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mid-weast · 3 years

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Will you keep it down? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You and Jungkook attend the same university and have been neighbors for 3 months now. It drives you crazy that he plays loud music at 2AM, and it drives him crazy that you barely acknowledge his presence.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader; Black!Reader

Words: 2.6K

Genre: enemies to lovers, student!jungkook, student!reader, fluff, mention of smut, angst? (in the form of bickering back and forth).

Authors note: Hi hi! This is the first fic I’ve ever written so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also it is unedited so if there's grammar / spelling mistakes I'm sorry again! Also this is catered toward the reader being Black but I hope it can be enjoyed by everyone. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated ok love u bye!

“Y/N? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!? Open this door RIGHT NOW!”

Even though you were studying in your room, his knocks were so loud you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had expected a reaction, but not a full-on explosion.

You and Jungkook have been apartment neighbors for about three months now, and a constant problem is that he blares his music hella loud late at night. Of course he’s a music major so he listens to music a lot, but at this point you don’t care. It doesn’t even seem like he’s working on composition homework anyway, just being an asshole with no regard for his neighbors peace. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you're not just some uptight bitch who complains about everything. Well, you do have several pet peeves but over the years of going to school in Korea you’ve picked and chosen your battles very wisely. In most cases you let things slide. You wouldn’t care at all about someone playing the music loudly, but it is 2 AM, and while you’re up studying you know a lot of your other neighbors are trying to sleep.

You tiptoe toward your front door and twist the knob slowly. You only open the door wide enough to be able to see his face. It’s not that you’re scared that you’re in danger or anything, and you rarely back down from people giving you a hard time. But you were tired, wearing a big ass t- shirt and short shorts (your regular sleep attire), and it was late at night. So if anything was going to pop off you felt pretty vulnerable. Even though you’re the same age, he towers over you and you find his size kinda intimidating.

As usual, you have to crane your neck to see his face, and your view of him is limited by the narrowness in which

you opened the door.

“Can I help you, lil boy?”

From what you can see of him, right away you can tell that he is pissed. Dawning his usual attire of a black sweatshirt with the hood up, black sweats, and stomp a hoe boots, he stood extremely close to your apartment door with his arms crossed. His usually wide, puppy dog eyes are now pressed in narrow slits. His normally pouty lips are formed in a hard line, and his jaw is so clenched you could carve an ice sculpture with his jawline.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You called the cops on me? Are you INSANE???" Jungkook shouts.

Obviously he's mad, and despite the amount of times you've gone back and forth he's never raised your voice at you. The old you would have screamed back at him, but over time you've tried to respond to anger with calmness. Also, you were a little scared because this mf is kind of big.

"I already told you if you keep blaring your music at 2AM, I was going to do something about it!" You respond in a hushed whisper, slightly concerned that your elderly neighbors will be even more disturbed by the noise. "I've told you this a million times, and you barely do anything about it. If anything, it's gotten worse like you're doing it on purpose. People are trying to sleep and I'm trying to study, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sucks his teeth. "You're such a little snitch. And I've already told YOU that YOU can't tell me what to do."

"I know I can't...but they can," you nod toward the exit, referring to the police officers that most likely just left out that way with a tiny smirk growing on your face.

If it was possible, he clenched his jaw even harder and you think that he's going to pop a blood vessel. He pushes his way into your apartment, which sends you stumbling back and you grab the door handle to regain your balance. This causes you to close the door shut.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're-"

He steps right up to you and leans down into your face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, seriously??? Why are you such an annoying little brat? Just because you're a nerd with no friends who gets no play doesn't mean you can take your bitterness out on me.”

You have to laugh in his face at this point because hello??? First of all, who is he talking to? Second of all, you have told him a BUNCH of times to turn his music down late at night. You didn't think that was too much to ask. As far as you were concerned, being aware of your noise level when you live in an apartment is the universal bare minimum for being a human being.

"ME? Who do you think YOU are? Actually let me tell you. You're an entitled little rich boy who thinks he runs the world. I don't give a fuck about how popular you are on campus, how many people fall at your feet to be around you, and how many hoes you have, you cant talk to ME like that. And how are you going to try and tell me about myself when it's too much of a task for you to be a decent neighbor? I've never done anything to blatantly bother you, so why can you just.." You started to panic because usually when you raise your voice out of anger, your voice cracks and tears threaten to pool out of your eyes, but you tried to get a grip and not back down..."why can you just be nice to me so we can live in peace? Is that too hard for you???"

He looked kind of taken aback by your question. Being nice to you? It never crossed his mind. Also, you kind of had a point. When the semester started and you both moved in on the same day, you would shoot him a small, friendly smile in passing but you never seemed interested in getting to know him. He always wondered why that was. It's not that he had a problem talking with girls, since all he had to do was breathe and girls would come flocking around him, but you would flat out ignore him. Even at all the major parties at the beginning of the year and on Thursday nights when students take over the clubs in the city, you'd barely even acknowledge him. He KNEW that you had seen him too, since you would make eye contact, but you acted like he was just another guy at the club.

And he'd be lying if he said you weren't fine. You had thick thighs, a beautiful face, nice curves, and always wore outfits that hugged you in the right places. He always wondered what it would feel like to wrap his arms around your body and press it against his own. He would constantly sneak peaks of you throughout the night at the club, but something stirred in him when he saw that you were chatting up other guys. Was he...jealous? Jealous that you were so eager to pay attention to these dudes who, in his opinion, were decent looking but they were nowhere near his level, and you never even gave him a second thought? One night he even saw you leaving with a man he knew through mutual friends, and he had to physically stop himself from breaking the glass he was holding, because that guy, while objectively handsome, was nothing compared to him. Jungkook wasn't blatantly cocky, but he let his talent, charm, and looks speak for themselves. He was THEE Jeon Jungkook, and nothing ever really bothered him....except you.

Was he....interested in you? Nah, that can't be it. You were some random chick who happened to be his neighbor, who also is one of the only girls he's met that doesn't give two fucks about even having small talk with him, and that infuriated him for some reason. So the first time you came knocking on his door in an adorable pink satin pajama set with a matching bonnet complaining about his loud music, he knew the game he had to play.

He's still standing over you, centimeters away from you face, but you notice that his eyes soften a little and so does his jaw. He unclenches the fists he was holding crossed against his chest

You continue, “I don't care what you do, and I'm DEFINITELY trying to run your messy ass life. Believe me," you scoff, "you don't have enough money to pay me to do that. But when your dickhole behavior fucks with MY life is when it's a problem. And it's BEEN a problem."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, little girl, maybe I should call you little mouse now, since now I know that you'll go squeaking to the cops now, don't fuck with me or my music again.”

Without moving your head you look him up and down with a confused expression. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? No seriously, you look like you cry during Disney movies while wearing footie pajamas, and now here you are throwing a fit because I forced you to stop bothering the entire wing with your music?"

Girl...what are you saying??? This man just barged into YOUR place, is in your face, and is strong enough to pick you up and throw you, and you’re insulting him? But you figured if he's going to be rude, you'll throw it right back because you're tired of his bullshit.

Whatever softness he was feeling for a fleeting moment immediately left, and annoyance once again washed over. He straightens up a bit and puts on that annoying confident smirk he wears when he thinks he's won arguments between you two.

"You should be nicer to me, all it will take is for me to tweet one thing about you, and you'll be the most hated person on campus."

At this point, any suspicions that you had about him annoying you on purpose were confirmed. You've concluded that this mf is a bully and you, small and shy but not one to take mess, will put him in his place to-motherfucking-night.

You take a step toward him, now crossing your arms tightly against your chest, but he doesn't even move a hair backwards.

"Clearly you need a rude awakening so here it is. I don't know what type of people you've dealt with all your life, always saying yes to you, letting you boss them around and taking whatever bullshit you dish out, but let me tell you I am not the one. Never have been and never will be. Unlike the other fools around here who cream their pants at the mention of your name, I don't care about who you are. You'll respect ME and MY peace as long as we're neighbors, you get me?"

Now y/n, you have never so boldly stood up to someone, where did that come from, babes? You've tried to not let this entitled little boy get to you this whole time, but with him standing in front of you in the middle of your apartment with that extremely annoying, yet handsome, smirk on his face, and after all the crap he's said tonight, he had you all the way fucked up.

After you said that, he just laughed and looked away. Now you’re standing there fuming and confused...was there a joke you missed? You were being dead serious!

"Something funny?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.

"Nothing, just thinking about how I want to face fuck that annoying little mouth of yours so you finally shut up.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. You've never had a guy say something so blatantly rude and vulgar literally inches away from your face. But again, you weren't going to back down.

"Oh really?" Scoffing and tilting your head to the side a bit while narrowing your eyes even more, "I'd very much like to do the same. Maybe then you'll learn your place."

"Oh please, princess, you probably blanch when someone around you even mentions the word sex." He chuckles and leans down close toward your face again and cocks his head to the side, scrunching his nose and in a pouty voice said, "you're fooling no one, but keep trying, maybe you'll get there.”

You're even more annoyed than you were before, if that was even possible. But if he wanted to play this game, you might as well go there with him. It's true, you were a bit more prudent than more, but it pissed you off that he could tell. Regardless, you do know some things to say that could have him leaving with his tail between his legs.

You pouted your lips and in a babying tone said, “Aww sweetheart you have no idea. You think you're big and bad but like I said, you probably cry watching Disney movies. The same way you'd be crying, begging me to let you cum down my throat as I mercilessly toy with your cock for hours.”

Now it's his turn to go pale. Y/n, his stuck up neighbor who has barely even spared him five seconds of her time just threatened to edge him into submission? He has to pinch himself because he must be dreaming....

“Well I-“

“But I don't even think we’d make it that far, hun” you continue, “because in order to humble your egotistical, disrespectful ass, I'm gonna have to ride your face until you suffocate. And when the paramedics come and I have to explain how you died, I won't even hesitate to tell them that you were a punk ass loser who LITERALLY drowned in my pussy!”

You don’t know who this person speaking is, but it is not you. All of the pent up hostility you’ve held towards him just flooded out of you and you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. To be honest you shocked yourself, but you still stood there with your arms crossed and your face unfaltering, just waiting for him to say something smart back.

He stared at you silently, eyes wider than you’ve seen before and his mouth hung slightly open. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with so much fire, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the image you painted came true. His brain said fuck it, and his lips crashed down onto yours. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, and you swore you heard him quietly whimper.

When he feels you starting to kiss back, he smirks into the kiss. Your lips are moving against each other in tandem, and all thoughts about how much you despise the prick fades away. As you uncrossed your arms and placed them on his chest, you could feel his heart beating wildly. Was he as nervous as you were this whole time? You wonder. You knew he was a player, so he was experienced. But the thought that you made him nervous gave you a tiny confidence boost. His hands slowly slide up the sides of your body to sneak behind your back, to pull you further into his chest. As much as your brain was telling you to resist him and push him away, you couldn't help but fall victim to how soft his lips felt against yours. Suddenly you feel airborne as he swiftly reaches down behind your thighs and picks you up. You instinctively gasp but he doesn’t miss a beat, simply biting your lower lip and locking your lips together again.

“Maybe we should test that scenario of yours, and if it comes true, that wouldn’t be the worst way for me to go” he says, doing that annoying but soul-crushingly handsome smirk he likes to wear as he carries you off to your bedroom.

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 24 part two

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Arguing

After enjoying a tense afternoon with Lan Xichen, Wei Wuxian comes home to enjoy a tense evening with Jiang Cheng. He pauses in the doorway as he takes in Jiang Cheng’s mood and decides which metaphorical mask he will put on to interact with his shidi. As someone who grew up with explosive people, I find this routine very familiar.

Wei Wuxian is always carefully playing a role as he interacts with the people in his life. Clearly he has read the classic sociology text The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life and is using it as a how-to guide. We see him do this same calculation over and over, in which he reacts internally to a situation, comes to a decision about what persona to inhabit, and then dons that persona. It’s a typical abuse survival tactic and...it is exhausting.

This is why I think his leaving to be alone for a while in Episode 50 is a good thing. Being alone isn’t better than being with someone else, usually, but for Wei Wuxian, who is (by Episode 50) assured of love but not sure where he belongs in his own life, being by himself for a while is going to be the best thing for him. He can learn how to just be a person, instead of constantly trying to mold himself to fit everyone around him.

For the current tense situation, Jiang Cheng is polishing his sword, which, incidentally, is slang (in English, not necessarily in Chinese) for masturbating. Which makes their conversation about how frequently it needs doing kind of a hoot. “One time a month should do,” per Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng yells at Wei Wuxian--fairly, really--for being drunk all the time and not working on clan tasks. Then he responds to a hug attempt by shoving Wei Wuxian and knocking him down. JC asks WW if he’s too drunk to manage his spiritual power. Now, we know that he doesn’t have any spiritual power to manage, and that’s the main point of this interaction. But it also shows us something else about their dynamic.

This was just a quick hit, and when it takes WWX out, JC asks why he isn’t responding with spiritual power. Which means that apparently *every* time Jiang Cheng gives Wei Wuxian a shove or a shoulder check, or strikes him--like he’s been doing constantly since Episode 3--he’s putting spiritual power behind it. That’s...really harsh.

Jiang Cheng wants Wei Wuxian to fight back, and Wei Wuxian can’t; this is a big part of why their relationship breaks down. Casual blows loaded with spiritual power are part of their vocabulary, and Wei Wuxian can’t speak that language any more, even for basic defense. He’s literally not safe having simple interactions with Jiang Cheng now, because he’s secretly disabled, and Jiang Cheng is casually injuring him whenever he gets too close.

(more after the cut!)

This time Wei Wuxian has had enough, and raises Chenqing to Jiang Cheng, who immediately backs off. Jiang Cheng has seen that thing in action, not just on the battlefield, but in a small room full of whatever remained of Wen Chao when they were done with him. He takes this as a serious threat, and backs off, disturbed and puzzled and hurt.

Jiang Cheng thinks the change in Wei Wuxian is coming from apathy, not from disability, and so he misunderstands it over and over. Think of a friend saying “whatever, I’m sick of arguing with you, do what you want.” Jiang Cheng is very ready to feel rejected, and not at all ready to look at Wei Wuxian’s behavior and try to actually understand it.

Crying Over You

Wei Wuxian bails and goes to see Jiang Yanli in the ancestral hall, where she is polishing a name plaque. I turned the gamma way up to see whose it is and...I dunno. This character might be 江 (Jiang), I guess?

Jiang Yanli is the only one of the trio who knows how to mourn properly, in that she is taking some time to sit and be sad. Mourning the dead--both ritually and just in the emotional sense--is as important a part of reclaiming Lotus Pier as the training of disciples and having good times on the lake.

She asks him about his fight with Jiang Cheng and he says he’s used to fighting with him. Jiang Yanli asks him if he’s tired of living there, and Wei Wuxian deflects and deflects, saying “it’s my home, where else would I go?” and that if Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted him he would still be begging in the streets. He says “no matter what happens, I won’t leave Lotus Pier,” which is not an answer to her question.

It’s also not true. Like so many of his promises, it’s an expression of his wishes, with no space for the surprises real life is made of. He promises her that he won’t be reckless again, and asks her not to be mad at him. She says she can’t be mad at him, and then they share a flashback about Jiang Fengmian finding him on the street. This is a story, not a memory; Wei Wuxian can’t remember but he remembers her telling him about it. Jiang Yanli wasn’t there, in the moment. So this is her telling the story as it was told to her, probably by Jiang Fengmian.

Flashback Time

In the flashback, picky salad-hating Wei Ying is out on the street, looking for food in a cartload of pretty okay scraps. I mean, yeah, skip the tomatoes, but most of the greens look fine.

He’s found and fed by Jiang Fengmian, who recognizes him and decides to take him in.

Within a couple of episodes, we will see Wei Wuxian paying this favor forward, saving someone he finds starving on the street. Just like Jiang Fengmian, he's going to upset and disrupt his family in order to help someone for whom he feels a deep connection.

During this flashback we get a look at Jiang Fengmian’s sword, and it is a beauty.

What is Love

As the flashback ends, Wei Wuxian is smiling, hearing Jiang Yanli tell this touching story of starvation and orphanhood. She tells him he was born with a smiling face, and that he never minds much about sorrowful things; no matter how bad the situation is, he is always happy. Way to reinforce that metaphorical mask he’s wearing over his deep, deep despair, sis!

They talk a bit about Jiang Cheng’s bad temper. Then Jiang Yanli says now that her parents are gone, they three are the closest in the world, and he responds by putting his head down on her knee and theatrically saying he’s hungry. But he’s crying for real, and so is she.

Then he decides to ask her why people fall in love, basically, and claims that he does not have anyone in his heart. He says there’s no need to like a person that much, that it’s like “haltering your own neck,” according to Netflix. Let’s have a look at that figurative language for a second, and what’s missing from the Neflix translation.

What he says is (as near as my qhanzi.com skills can make out) “這不就是自己給自己脖子上套犁拴韁吗” which Google tells me means "Isn't this just putting a plow on my neck with a rein?" The part of the image that’s missing from Netflix subs is the plow, and the hard labor and animal servitude involved in pulling a plow. This isn’t a pro-romance image.

He’s clearly thinking about Lan Wangji when he lies about having no-one in his heart, but right now the yoke that he wants to escape has nothing to do with Lan Wangji. The person he’s harnessed to in a team, the person who he labors with, the person he wants to escape, is Jiang Cheng. What’s chafing his neck is the promise he made, to stay and serve as one half of a pair, when he can no longer pull his weight.

Busted

Speaking of Jiang Cheng, he is hanging around outside the shrine, listening to the conversation. Wei Wuxian busts him, pointing out not that eavesdropping is bad, but that it’s bad for grownups. Jiang Cheng points out that he’s the master of Lotus Pier so he’s allowed to go anywhere he wants.

(I love how he looks framed by this giant lotus behind him)

We Wuxian has another of those moments where he assesses the best approach to Jiang Cheng before responding.

Then he picks a fake fight with him about soup. Yanli comes out and tells them both to grow up, saying that JC is losing his demeanor as clan leader. He jokingly fixes his already-perfect robe ad they all have a chuckle.

Then Jiang Cheng reminds Wei Wuxian of his promise for the millionth time, and Jiang Yanli goes to make soup for the millionth time. As soon as the boys see that she’s gone, the smiles drop right off of their faces. They’re both performing their typical relationship dynamic for Jiang Yanli.

Being Reasonable

The brothers repair to the main hall, and stand behind the lotus throne looking out of this complicated wall/doorway thingy, while they talk about Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan.

Jiang Cheng is being mature and sensible here, trying to give Jiang Yanli what she wants and also explaining very, very basic political stuff to Wei Wuxian, who is too caught up in his hate boner for JZX to want to think about the bigger picture. He also thinks that Jin Guangyao is a nicer person, but Jiang Cheng says that nice doesn’t matter.

Wei Wuxian is getting a full head of steam going about what a jerk JZX is, when Jiang Cheng makes him actually stop and think, by pointing out that it’s not for them to forgive or not forgive Jin Zixuan’s past behavior; it’s up to Yanli.

Wei Wuxian sees the reasoning in this, and starts to say he can’t understand why Yanli chose to like this person, but then he stops himself and goes through a rapid series of thoughtful, uncomfortable expressions.

Perhaps he’s realizing that he himself has chosen to like an infamously stuck-up, fancy cultivator, albeit one with no soup-related character deficits.

Library Time

The stuck-up cultivator in question is currently in the Cloud Recesses library, where he has snuck into the forbidden books room, against his uncle’s express command, for the purpose of helping Wei Wuxian. The forbidden books room is an entire basement floor of the library; it probably has more books than the not-forbidden part of the library, since the main floor needs space for the restrooms, circulation desk, and copy machines.

(Did OP photoshop the Wangxian-in-the-Library porn picture onto Lan Wangjis’ book? She did.)

A couple of other Lans come along and see the main door unlocked. The lock is a big fish that probably uses magic for locking; it definitely doesn’t use a key. One of them steps in the doorway, glances back and forth without walking through, and does not check the secret door to the forbidden vault. Gosh, how did Su She and/or Jin Guangyao ever manage to steal secrets from this highly secure location, wow.

Lan Wangji hears the Lan disciple on guard duty say “don’t tell Hanguang Jun about this!’ and has a series of microexpressions that might indicate some kind of feeling about simultaneously being a rule breaker and a rule enforcer.

Boat Time

We end with an idyllic scene on the lake in Lotus pier, where a new batch of disciples is harvesting lotuses and learning the opposite of boat safety.

Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian are having a good time, and seem utterly carefree; both of them are good at living in the moment, or faking it.

Wei Wuxian thinks, in voiceover, that it seems that it’s not so hard to go back to the old days. Uh...ok.

Except he’s hiding a massive secret and these replacement kids are not the same juniors he used to hang out with, and he can’t actually teach them cultivation, since he has no socially-acceptable magic power, and everything is about to go to shit in the next episode. But you gotta take your joy where you can, I guess.

Note: There are a lot of questionable effects in The Untamed, but there are also beautiful scenes like this one, which looks like a Maxfield Parrish painting. Compare with the BTS below and you can see what a good job the VFX team did in bringing this lake to life.

#the untamed #cql #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #the untamed gifs #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

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Meant To Be - Loki x Fem! Reader

Summary: Much to your displeasure, your parents have promised you away to the God of Mischief of all people.

Tags: Arranged Marriage AU, Light Elf! Reader

Warnings: Aside from Loki hating himself, nothing.

Words: 2878

I Masterlist I

A/N: Some good old-fashioned, ‘redeemed after The Avengers and the other movies didn’t happen’ Loki. Like, really cheesy, self-indulgent 2012 stuff. I just want to ignore all misery that happens in the series okay?

“Ew! Stop it!”

You were eight at the time when you and Loki first met, by means of negotiation between both your parents.

If only you knew that this encounter should be the first impression of what should be your husband in the near future...

Frigga and Odin could only plead for their son to be on his best behavior - but well, it’s the God of Mischief we’re talking about. Must be hard to inherit such a title from your very birth.

Just when you put the little bonquet of flowers he had picked up for you towards your face to admire it, several little spiders emerged from the blossoms.

“You’re no fun.” The raven-haired boy stood a safe distance away from you, arms crossed as his gleeful laughter turned into a broad sulk. "And your ears are weird.”

“I hate you!” you screeched in your childish rage, throwing the flowers to the ground and trampling onto them. “Where’s your brother? Thor is way nicer than you!”

“Well, why don’t you marry him then?!” he mocked to cover up his hurt pride, picking up a handful of dirt and throwing it in your direction.

“I don’t need any friends anyway...” the little boy whispered to himself, running away from the scene with tears filling the corner of his eyes.

“I don’t need anyone. I’m way better than all of them!”

Not even Frigga was fast enough to catch up with him, while Odin uttered some fake apologies to your parents, promising them that everything will go as planned.

You on the other hand were running towards your mother, tightly grabbing onto her dress. “He’s mean! I wanna go home!”

As Queen of the Light Elves, your mother was a being full of grace and composure - and you were hoping to one day become such a formidable person as well.

She bowed down to your height, petting your hair as you rubbed the mixture of tears and dirt from your cheeks. Just her bright smile alone would sometimes be enough to make you forget about your worries - but not today.

“My sweet child” she cooed, cradling you in her arms. “One day you’ll understand.”

However, this would be the last time you paid Asgard a visit - at least until now. Because no matter how deeply you wished to never meet him again, the words your mother spoke on that day haunted you all those years:

“For this is your duty as a princess.”

[Present Day - Asgard]

It felt so unreal when you stuck your head outside of the wooden carriage, the wind playing with your hair as your glare wandered over the rainbow bridge you were crossing.

Silence strained the air, your parents unable to do even so much as look into your eyes. Hel, how you wished this was only a dream.

Behind you was a whole company of Light Elves, transporting all of your belongings to what should be your homecountry from now on.

Now there was no way back, that much was sure.

You were supposed to meet your soon-to-be husband on that very same day, one day before your wedding to be precize.

One could only guess why you weren’t allowed to visit Asgard again for all those years, even though you were practically born just for this reason - for this person.

To become Loki’s bride was your involuntary purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be truly free.

Maybe your parents thought the God of Mischief to have a bad influence on their growing daughter, pulling you into his harmless yet dishonorable schemes. Or they simply feared you to refuse marrying said man if you got to know him better, finding out just what kind of person you were promised to.

Not that your parents were pleased either...everyone in the Nine Realms knew the stories.

To Odin, there was no point in hiding the disgrace his adoptive son had brought over Asgard. Not only was he responsible for an attack on Midgard, sacrificing thousands of lives for his own sake, drunken by greed for power.

But all of you were shocked to hear that Loki Odinson - or rather Laufeyson - was never Asgardian to begin with.

A Frost Giant.

Among your kind, they were known to be one of the most terrible abominations in the nine realms, and murderer of countless of your kind - and this should be the father to your future children?

Only thinking about this cruel twist of fate made you want to vomit...

So why did you agree to proceed with the preparations as if nothing had happened? How in Alfheim’s name could you reject their offer to wed you to Thor instead of that lunatic?

Was it that through your upbringing and royal duties, you had lost your own free will? Or simply fear of stepping aside the path that everyone had prepared for you?

It was probably the fact that you didn’t want to get into true love’s way...you and Thor stayed in brief contact through Heimdall, and you just knew how much that human girl meant to him.

You were kinda jealous, though...the concept of being in love was foreign to you, having a vague idea of it from novels only. But real life just wasn’t meant to be that was, was it?

You couldn’t escape your fate, that was what it was - for this treaty would unite both kingdoms, bringing peace and wealth for all of their inhabitants.

No way you could be so selfish as to decline...even if it meant you had to suffer for the rest of your life.

“My Ladyship, we have arrived!” a guard spoke as he knocked on the carriage door, with your parents hinting that you needed to step out first.

The very same guard now yelled from the pit of his lungs, making you feel the whole Kingdom of Asgard could hear. “Now arriving: Lady Y/N Y/L/N, eldest Princess of Alfheim and heir to the throne.”

You heared the people whispering as you took your first, insecure steps, blinded by the bright daylight.

“She’s so pale, like ice” or “Why are her ears like that?” were rather nice comments compared to others plainly calling you ugly, scary or a ‘disgrace’.

Of course your Kingdoms had been in a war for several decades, but this was long in the past - before your very birth, even. So what’s the reason you should bear with such hostility in the place everyone expected you to call ‘home’ from now on?

One thing was clear from the very beginning: You would never belong here.

“May I?” a dark, husky voice interrupted your self-pitying. You blinked heavily, still trying to adjust to all those golden surroundings, until your blurry vision finally cleared up.

“C’mon.” The voice belonged to the man in front of you, looking gravely nervous with sweat dripping from his forehead. He was reaching out a hand for you to take, and you gladly accepted since you didn’t want to embarass yourself further by falling out of the carriage.

And still, you managed to somehow miss a step and fall right into his arms. “Oh my, so clumsy” the man snickered as he catched you, clearing his throat as you grabbed onto his chest to regain balance. "Not very graceful for someone of your status.”

“And you are-” The words got stuck in your throat when you stared back into those eyes, their emerald green awaking memories you’d rather forgotten entirely. “L-Loki!”

“Exactly, my dear. The one and only.” Smooth and calm, he pecked a kiss on the back of your hand, andyou couldn’t help but admire just how well he had aged: His wild locks were combed back, sharp features complimenting his face as he tried his best to give you his most innocent smile.

Yet you kept your guard up, always expecting him to somehow embarass you just for the fun of it. “When it comes to him, always expect the unexpected” Thor once warned you, and you won’t forget about it that easily.

“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you” was your firm declaration, only to be rewarded with a scoff. “You are speaking to the God of Lies, Lady Y/N - there is no use in trying to deceive me” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver in unpleasant anticipation.

“Carry her belongings to my rooms” he dismissed the servants with a simple gesture of his hand, offering his other arm for you to cling on as he escorted you through the palace.

The giant halls were almost empty, nothing like back on Alfheim where you and your brethren would enjoy each other’s company in midst of nature. A sole tear escaped your eye when you thought back to those carefree days, which are now over.

“Are you alright, m’lady?” Much to your surprise, your fiancé sounded honestly concerned about your well-being. “If you are tired, we can postpone our tour of the palace until you’ve rested.”

“May I speak from the heart?” You gulped after finishing that sentence, scaring yourself with all the stories you’ve heared about this mad troublemaker.

Somehow you had the feeling that if you were to overstep your boundaries with that brute, it would have consequences beyond your imagination. He might seem generous and polite right this moment, but what would someone like him do if you enrage him? Countless images were circling in your head, one worse than the other.

Loki furrowed his brows, exhalinge deeply. For him, your expression was an open book to what you were thinking right now.

“Y/N, my dear Lady, if you want it or not: Starting tomorrow, we share a bond. I am deeply sorry that a veritable flower as you are had to end up with someone like me, but I promise to treat you as well as possible.”

Turning around so you’d not detect how it hurt him to speak from the heart, he added with a shaky voice “Yet there is no reason for you to hold back your hatred for me. No harm will come your way, I swear upon the little honor I have left.”

Even though his words made you feel a deep sympathy with the god, you weren’t quite sure if you could decipher truth or deceit in them. Maybe he just wanted to lure you into saying what you truly thought of him?

He’s right - you will have to spend the rest of your life with him, so don’t mess this up from the very start!

“I-I don’t hate you!” was the first thing you blurted out, grabbing onto his cloak. Loki turned around, rising his eyebrow as he scanned your face for any hint of a lie.

Althrough it was the truth, at least to a certain extend. You’ve seen each other only once, when you were still little. The rest is all tales and rumours, but you personally don’t have a reason to despise him.

There was no way you could promise to accept his past or heritage, let alone forgive him - yet as long as he’d treat you with respect, you’d return the favour.

“T-There’s just a question on my mind this whole time...aren’t you mad? I-I mean someone like- well...like you...” you gestured around awkardly, almost making him crack a smile. “I mean...I thought you wouldn’t let your parents dictate your life.”

Another deep sigh escaping his mouth, this times with his eyes closed. “This isn’t about Asgard or my adoptive parents. I choose my own path.”

Suddenly, Loki wrapped one arm around you, flicking his fingers with the free one.

“Hold onto me” he ordered indifferent as he casted his spell, teleporting both of you away before you could even comprehend, let alone ask him what he was doing.

It happened in the fraction of a second, yet felt like hovering through an empty space for an eternity.

“Now open your eyes.” You hadn’t even realized that you squeezed them shut during the shift, slowly opening them while Loki lifted your chin with his index finger.

The environment was magnificent. Had you ever seen something this beautiful in your whole life?

Obviously you had no clue where you were, but this was the first time seeing so much untouched nature on Asgard. There were flowers blooming in all colours imagineable, clear rivers crossing the lands in between grassy hills, and animals nearby a small forrest.

“It’s not like I didn’t educate myself about the Light Elves and their way of living” Loki stammered, unconsciously intertwining your fingers with yours as he watched you admiring the view. “So I could make you comfortable here, I mean.”

He plummeted down on the grass, still a little wet from the morning dew, and gestured for you to do the same. It was weird, actually, but also somehow adorable - how the infamous ‘Silver Tongue’ had lost his ability with words. “I’ve done very little right in my life full of wrongs. Hurt a lot of people.”

“Mmmhh” you hummed approvingly, not knowing what else to say - yet for some reason, you didn’t let go off of his hand, squeezing it ever so slightly.

“And even though I can’t possibly redeem myself, I wish to change for the better.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “I just never knew how to start.”

Loki Odinson really was full of surprises. He was nothing like the child you’ve met long ago, and the complete opposite of what you imagined the ‘God of Mischief’ to be.

You had expected a power-hungry, selfish and cruel man to wed you - and yet there he was: Insecure and broken, only a shell of the person he once was.

Just what had you missed all those years? What things happened to break someone’s will like this?

And was he truly beyond repair?

“Those past weeks, I have visited Alfheim more times than you could comprehend” he giggled nervously, avoiding your eyes. “Concealed, of course.”

Well, that sounded kind of weird, but you knew better than to talk someone down who was just opening up to you. So your sole answer was “What for?”

“There was no way a criminal like me would still be seemed fit for this ceremony - and yet I was given this chance anyway. My mother told me that it was you who insisted on carrying on the arrangement, so...I just wanted to know what person would be willingly ruin their life.”

Something different was shining through the god’s orbs, and you couldn’t quite decipher it. Was it hope? Hope, that if you had given him a chance, his life could lead into a different direction? To change himself from the burden that was his birth title?

“I-I guess I don’t want to mess this up like I always do” he whimpered barely audible, before staring at you in shock and embarassment. Until now, he hadn’t realized just how vulnerable he made himself.

Just what the hell would you think about him now? You probably had lost any respect, or thought himself to be crazy. How weak...

So he was quick to put on the confident facade again, wearing his smug grin as if that all was just part of a big joke only he’d understand. But even though you barely knew him, he couldn’t fool you.

“Sometimes it’s enough just to try.” Your head turned from the sight of nature to your fiancé and back several times, before you brought up the courage and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering “So you can’t really mess this up.”

“Gladly you don’t seem to know yet just how much misery I cause.” He kept that thought to himself, to not scare you away.

“I am aware that you could never love someone like me, Y/N. But I can provide for you, dedicate myself to making you content with being my wife. My newfound purpose.”

The purpose of a war criminal - that sure put yourself under a lot of pressure. And still, it made you somewhat proud, and grateful as well. Because it was the first time someone valued you as a person, and not the princess of Alfheim.

Unaware of how much time had passed, both of you would get used to each other’s presence in silence, enjoying the nature while you processed this eventful day.

Exhausted from the long travel and all that rollercoaster of emotion, you soon found yourself dazzling into sleep onto Loki’s shoulder. If only you could see him adore you, staring in awe that someone could actually feel so safe in his presence.

Carefully, the god picked you up, gently lifting you on his arms to make your way back to the palace, where everyone was frantically searching for both of you. Well, Loki was used to trouble - but right now, it was worth it.

May it be right or wrong, and even though you couldn’t explain this sentiment, you had a good feeling when it came to the things that were just about to come.

“You won’t regret your decision, Y/N Y/L/N. On my side, I assure you a bright future.”

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Loki/Reader #Loki/You #Self Insert #Fanfiction #Arranged Marriage #Writing #Marvel #Asgard

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animereaderinsertwriter · 3 years

Text

Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part III

Part I

Part II

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

After that night, it became increasingly hard for (Y/N) to leave, and for Eren to let her do so.

Something between them had changed. There were moments— when Eren would press feather-light kisses against her forehead, when he would casually leave a cup of her favorite tea where she would find it— where (Y/N) felt as though her heart might burst. It was all the little things that baffled her, all the ways in which he seemed to understand exactly how she felt; it was as though he knew her more than she knew herself. On the mornings that she would wake in his bed, sleepy and sticky and wholly content, (Y/N) wondered what it would be like to have this life forever.

Other days— on days like today— she was reminded exactly why that could never be, and it broke her heart.

Today, they had planned a romantic dinner in the park, an evening under the stars. It was supposed to be something special, a little getaway just for the two of them; they had wanted to leave as soon as (Y/N) was relieved from her patrol, so Eren had moved her things to his place, hoping that they could leave together from there for their evening alone.

In and of itself, that was fine… but when (Y/N) came in, covered head-to-toe in viscous Creature blood, Eren was furious.

“And you call me a monster,” he growled, looking her up and down with hate in his eyes. “I can’t believe you.”

He stood from his seat on the sofa, and (Y/N) began to back away, still wary from the fight she had narrowly escaped from unscathed. Her every instinct told her that she should run, fire a round of silver bullets into his chest, but she steeled herself, doing neither.

“It’s not my fault— they were attacking a civilian,” she told him as he stalked towards her, his face twisted into a horrific scowl. “I tried to stop them— tried to find out what was going on— but then they came at me with their claws, and I was left with no choice.”

“There is always a choice,” he snarled, and it was then that anger filled (Y/N) from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. "They were probably terrified of you— how could you possibly blame them for lashing out?"

(Y/N) grit her teeth.

“This, from the man who thought genocide was his only option to the same problem?”

Eren made a low, warning sound in the back of his throat, but (Y/N) pressed on.

“You would rather me have died?” she demanded, stepping into his space. “Would it have pleased you more for my body to bleed out on the pavement, ripped to shreds by an aggressive werewolf? Would you even care, or would you just find the next blood bag and move on with your life?”

“Maybe so,” he shot back, “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your insufferable mouth.”

That stung— but if there was one thing (Y/N) knew how to do, it was to strike back twice as hard as she had been struck.

“Fine then,” she said, turning on her heel. “I won’t bother you any longer. I’ll go out and find someone who actually wants my company, someone who’ll fuck me good and proper over the counter at some hole-in-the-wall bar over on Easy Street, someone younger, with a nicer cock and less fucking baggage— ”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence, or even walk a single step further— Eren grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to him, his fist painfully tight against her scalp.

“Wanna say that again, to my face?” he asked, tilting her head back.

“I’ll go find someone else to fuck me,” she spat, struggling in vain against him. “I’ll spread my legs for the next available schmuck in the closest bar I can find, so you can hear me scream his name and not yours.”

It was a low blow, to threaten a vampire’s claim on something they had previously assumed had belonged to them, but (Y/N) didn’t care. She had almost died today, and she’d be damned if she was going to take shit from anyone about what she had to do to survive. If Eren wanted a fight, she would damn sure give him one.

“Like hell you will,” he told her, pulling her head back so that she had to strain to remain standing. “You’re mine. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood— you are my Companion.”

"I belong to no one!"

Those words ripped from her throat and echoed throughout the empty house, and it was then that Eren stopped, looking at her with calculation in his gaze.

"You're right," he said, releasing her hair. "No mortal can serve two masters, lest they love one and despise the other; an archaic religious concept, but an accurate one nonetheless. You've made it abundantly clear where your loyalty lies. I was a fool for thinking otherwise."

(Y/N) began to tremble. "Eren, what are you saying?"

"I release you from our pact," he replied coldly, his eyes so dull and lifeless that it sent a chill down her spine. "No longer are you bound to be my wine-press— I free you from me."

"Eren—"

"Go," he commanded, and (Y/N) felt terribly, horribly empty.

Once, he would have told her to come freely, go safely, and leave something of the happiness she brought him; now, he gave her a cold dismissal, and it frightened her more than she was willing to admit. Still, she went, feeling hollow and used, and she didn't bother to shut the door behind her as she turned to walk home, weary from the day and sick from fighting.

***

Armin had lived for a very long time, but even so, he had yet to meet anyone so foul of temper as Eren when the Hunger was on him.

"Eren, you have to feed."

The vampire, as ill in health as in temper, glared weakly at him. "I'm not hungry."

"But you are Hungry, and don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. Look, if this is about that girl—"

"I told you not to speak of her!"

Ah, so it was about her. By the looks of him, it had been two weeks since Eren had fed; Armin would bet that he hadn't seen her in the same amount of time.

"If I need to, I'll drag her here to make up with you myself," said Armin testily, "I refuse to watch my best friend starve himself because he refuses to feed on anyone else."

"You will not touch her."

Armin rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything further. He just patted Eren's arm in farewell and set about finding the little lady who was the root cause of his current consternation.

It took longer than Armin had anticipated to find the young woman who had, for all intents and purposes, completely unraveled Eren's composure; her scent, while thick and memorable in Eren's apartment, was hard to track otherwise. Armin spent two hours just wandering the city while trying to catch a breath of it here or there, and when he finally did manage to catch a whiff of her scent and follow it to her, he understood exactly why it had been so hard to track her down.

The girl was a Hunter, of all things.

When Armin found her, she was knee-deep in sewage, her knife embedded to the hilt in the skull of what appeared to be some species of winged reptile. Armin, having been a tad desperate and not actually having been expecting to find anything when he lifted the lid to the man-hole on 32nd and Main, was surprised to say the least— and when (Y/N) ripped her knife free and readjusted her stance into a defensive one directed at him, his surprise turned to intrigue.

“Er, hello there,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t suppose you’ll take my word for it that I just want to chat, will you?”

Curiously, the words gave the woman pause. She relaxed her stance ever-so-slightly, and then her eyes lit up with recognition.

“Armin Arlert?” she queried, craning her neck up to see him. “Is that you?”

This one grows curiouser and curiouser, he thought, but responded affirmatively.

“Can you give me a bit, then?” she asked, kicking the corpse of the Creature she’d just killed. “I’m not exactly fit for company. Perhaps we could meet later for a discussion over tea?”

“I’m afraid it’s urgent,” he said as she knelt to decapitate her prey— likely for proof of victory. “I think you know why I’m here, so you understand that time is of the essence.”

She didn’t look up at him as she replied.

“If this is about Eren, then I don’t have time to talk.”

Her tone was hard, bitter, and matter-of-fact, and it reminded Armin so much of Jean that it hurt… but just like Jean, Armin would bet that she could be won over by appealing to her inherent sense of human decency

“He’s suffering (Y/N),” he said, awkwardly crouching above the manhole so that she could better see the truth written in his eyes. “He won’t feed.”

“That’s hardly my problem.”

And oh, how well Armin knew that state of mind. If there was one thing Eren Jaeger knew how to do, it was push away the people who loved him most. Armin had dealt with that particularly lovely quirk of his for centuries, and it never got easier to deal with no matter how much time passed. If anything, it got more difficult the older they both got.

“When you’re the solution to a problem, you become a part of it whether you like it or not,” Armin replied, patient and understanding. “He cares for you.”

(Y/N) looked up at him then, fury in her eyes.

“He hurt me.”

Armin shrugged. “He hurts everyone he cares about. It’s just who he is. Nothing comes for free— least of all the love and loyalty of someone as old and as powerful as Eren.”

“Your heart may be toughened to his meanness,” she told him, the head of the creature she’d slain in her hands, “But mine is not, and I don’t like him well enough to willfully remain for him to use as an emotional punching bag.”

At that, Armin couldn’t help but let loose a wry grin.

“No,” he said, “I should think not; but I do think you love him well enough to make sure he doesn’t starve himself to death because he can’t have you.”

(Y/N) was silent for a long moment, then she crossed her arms.

“I won’t come crawling to him. He’s going to have to come to me.”

Armin grimaced. He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

“Is that at all negotiable?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

Well, there was nothing for it.

“And you will let him feed if he comes to you?”

(Y/N) thought, then nodded. “If he proves himself deserving.”

Armin couldn't help himself; he laughed. Eren might have met his match in this one.

"Very well. I'll work my magic, and you work yours."

She nodded and bade him farewell, but before Armin left, he paused.

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

With that, he left her, ready to take Eren by the ear and throw him at her if he had to.

***

(Y/N)'s heart was racing as she opened the door, knowing good and well who would be behind it.

After her little talk with Armin— and the near heart attack he had given her in the process— she had called in to Zeke and told him she needed to go home to deal with an emergency. A replacement for her patrols had been sent, and she had come home to wash the grim from her skin, making herself as presentable as possible with the time she had. (Y/N) was worried, so worried, that the filth she had been wading in earlier would have left a lingering stench, or even that it had affected the taste of her; she had scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was raw, hoping to erase every last remnant of her day from her skin…but as it turned out, she needn't have bothered.

Two, three, four hours later, and Eren hadn't shown— it was only now, right at the six hour mark, that he had decided to come to her.

Needless to say, (Y/N) was… less than pleased, but when she opened the door to find Eren pale and drawn, with dark circles beneath his eyes, her heart softened ever-so-slightly. It seemed that Armin was right; he had been suffering.

"You look like shit," she told him quietly, opening her door widely to let him in.

"I assure you, I feel worse," Eren grumbled, but stepped in as she closed the door behind him.

For a long, awkward moment, they just looked at each other, silent and unsure. It was unsettling how unlike himself Eren seemed; he was almost soft when he looked at her, and (Y/N) didn't know how to feel about it. Eventually, though, like two opposite ends of a magnet, they were drawn together, and Eren brushed a piece of hair back from her face.

"Hi," he said, his voice low and rough. (Y/N) caught his hand in hers before it could fall from her hair, and she pressed it against her chest, keeping it trapped there, touching the skin above her beating heart.

"Hey."

They watched each other a moment more before the dam broke between them, and they both spoke at once.

"I'm sorry."

A shared grin, a shy laugh— and then (Y/N) said what they both were thinking.

"You need to feed first, and talk later," she told him, her hand still clasped in his. "You're not off the hook, but I doubt we can have any real conversation with you like this."

Eren nodded gratefully, tugging at her wrist— his usual biting spot— but (Y/N) shook her head, indicating her neck. The thickest, richest blood, she knew, would come from there; and if there was ever a time to be generous with the placement of Eren's bite, she figured that it would be now.

The worst of it was over quickly. There was a brief sting at the intrusion of razor-sharp fangs, and then the vaguely uncomfortable feeling of having something poking down into places that decidedly should not be poked at all, but then (Y/N) quickly eased into the rhythm of the act, focusing wholly on the way Eren's lips felt against her skin. In a few moments, she would become pleasantly light-headed, and then Eren would pull away and look at her like she'd hung the stars. Oh, how she'd missed that look! (Y/N) found herself longing for it even before she quite realized it.

And then, without warning, a vision came, and (Y/N) was swept into another world entirely.

The evening sky rolled endlessly out towards the horizon; it seemed to go on forever, sparkling with more stars than (Y/N) had ever seen before. The full moon was so bright that it cast the whole world in what seemed like silver sunlight, and (Y/N) wondered how anyone could sleep on a night such as this. It was far too beautiful an experience to miss.

Alongside her— alongside Eren, through whose eyes she saw the world— strode Armin and two older-looking cadets who she recognized from previous memories as Reiner and Berthold. Eren was feeling anxious over something, and Reiner and Berthold were… well, they were kind. Reiner especially seemed to be like an older brother, and Eren admired him.

"You'll do just fine tomorrow," said Reiner, placing a large, warm hand on Eren's shoulder. "I'm certain of it."

The memory ended, and (Y/N) came back to herself as Eren's tongue laved over the wounds his fangs had left in her neck, sealing them.

"See anything?" he asked, his breath warm against her skin, and (Y/N) nodded.

"You loved them, too," she said softly, remembering the fondness Eren had felt as though it had been her own. "You loved the Hunters that tried to take everything from you, and— and I think they loved you, too."

Eren pulled away from her, and it was then that she saw the tears shining in his eyes.

"Yes," he replied, his voice broken. "We were children. How could we not love each other as God intended? Hate was never in our nature; it was an inheritance that we couldn't escape."

He paused for a moment, then spoke again.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he told her, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I lost my temper. I forget— I forget that you're not them."

And (Y/N) understood. She understood that no matter how many centuries passed, there would be wounds that just wouldn't heal for Eren. He would lash out at things that wouldn't make sense to anyone who hadn't experienced the horrors of war as he had. Suddenly, she felt petty for having lashed out as she had, and guilt threatened to rise up and choke her.

"You're forgiven," she replied, leaning into his touch. "It takes two to tango— I shouldn't have baited you like I did. I knew how badly that would hurt you, and that's exactly why I said it."

At that, Eren cracked a grin.

"I expect nothing less from a Kirschtein. Your grandfather would have punched me square in the jaw— and as big as that bastard got when we were older, he probably would have put me on my ass."

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh, and Eren joined her, their combined joy swelling until there was nothing else in the world but their happiness.

How they started kissing, neither one of them would be able to say afterwards, but in the grand scheme of things, it hardly mattered. Their love was too large to contain, too much to hold back— and it was love, (Y/N) realized, though she hadn't quite put words to it yet. She loved Eren Jaeger, a Creature, a monster, as much as her grandfather before her had and more. She loved him with a desperation that felt like being knocked over by an ocean wave and plunged into depths where her feet no longer touched the sand. She loved him more than she had ever loved anyone before.

And, as he placed her gently on her bed that was barely big enough for two, divesting himself of his shirt above her, (Y/N) thought that maybe she didn't mind it so much as long as he loved her in return.

"I missed you," said Eren, dropping kisses by her ear as he unhooked her bra. "I missed this."

"Me too," she gasped as his mouth wandered to her nipple, her hands fisting in his hair. "Oh, God, I missed you too."

The time for words was soon gone, however; Eren's sinful, sinful mouth traveled lower and lower until he was kissing at the insides of her thighs, parting them to access what lay between, and (Y/N) threw her head back as he spread her open with his hands and sucked brazenly at her clit.

How long he spent there, worshipping her sex, (Y/N) had no idea; all she knew was that she came once from his mouth on her and a second time from his fingers inside her, and when he finally, mercifully withdrew, she was broken down to the simplest parts of herself; there was nothing left but an affection so deep that it threatened to overtake her if she didn't let it out, and she did the only thing she knew to do to release the overwhelming pressure that was building in her chest as Eren pushed his big, veiny cock into her.

She told him what she should have said a long time ago.

"Oh, Eren," she gasped as his cockhead shoved deep inside her. "I love you."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Eren went unnaturally still. He looked at her with pupils blown wide inside emerald eyes, and his fangs slightly distended; in any other situation, (Y/N) might have laughed at how surprised he seemed, but it seemed as though she were frozen in time, unable to do anything but stare earnestly up at them, hoping he understood how much she cared for him.

"You… what?"

"I love you," she repeated, her body moving without her permission to roll her hips up into him, moving his cock even further inside her. "Please, Eren, I need—"

He cut her off with a forceful, bruising kiss, and his hips started making slow, deep thrusts inside her, her legs hiked up over his shoulders.

"Again," he said against her lips."Say it again."

"I love you."

Another thrust or two, a hand circling her wounded throat.

"Again."

"I love you, Eren."

"Again."

This time, it was only a whisper.

"I love you," she said, and Eren began fucking her in earnest.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he told her as he thrust hard and deep inside her. "You're every man's dream, a nirvana the damned such as myself were never meant to reach. (Y/N), you are everything, and I—"

He seemed to choke on the words, and (Y/N) kissed him as he tried to regain his composure.

"I don't deserve you," he said, shaking with the force of their passion. "I don't deserve your love."

It's not about deserving, she wanted to say, It never was, but then she was coming again, her climax contracting her walls around her lover, and it was all she could do to remain conscious as Eren fucked her relentlessly through it all, chasing his own high.

It was only later, after a shower and something to eat that they finally spoke again. They were back in bed, and Eren's arm was wrapped around her, as though he were afraid to let her go for even a moment; truthfully, (Y/N) thought he was asleep, but then his breath tickled her ear as he said,

"I love you, angel."

And that, (Y/N) thought, had been worth it all, in the end.

#aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot #aot fanfiction #eren x reader #vampire!eren jaeger #aot smut

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years

Note

A very happy birthday month to you! I’m a fan of your Stony fics. If you’re still taking prompts, could you do one with a Las Vegas backdrop? Maybe Steve’s first time there with Tony for some reason? I was supposed to have my first trip there ever but Covid cancelled it. Maybe at least they can have a happy ending there. 🙂

Thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying the Stony fics!

So sorry your Las Vegas trip was cancelled, that’s really awful. I sort of went to Vegas once (it was a layover in the airport). The only thing I remember about the whole thing was the 5 bajillion slot machines in the airport terminals

Since I know so little about Vegas, I ended up going with the getting married in Vegas trope instead of something about the casinos. I also hope you don’t mind that I used this for my bingo square, but I saw the happy ending part in your ask and got inspired for my happily ever after square (details below the cut)

Here’s to Las Vegas

The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him.

Most days, Steve wakes up the second his alarm goes off, alert and ready for his run. This day, however, he drifts into wakefulness slowly, comfortably lying on his back. He’s warm and there’s a heavy weight on his stomach and chest, pressing him down into sheets that feel so much nicer on his bare skin than the ones he has at home. That’s the second thing he notices: he’s not wearing any clothes, not even the boxer-briefs he normally wears in lieu of pajamas. And the third thing he notices is that there’s something soft tickling his chin.

He slowly blinks his eyes open. He’s somewhere with high vaulted ceilings and an expensive-looking chandelier, which means it’s not Tony’s place (he thinks chandeliers are tacky) and it’s definitely not Steve’s (he can’t afford a chandelier). Whatever it is on his chest shifts and Steve looks down. Tony is draped across him, the top of his head tucked under Steve’s chin, their arms and legs tangled together. He’s breathing deep and even, still asleep even though sunlight is pouring through the window.

Steve smiles at the sight and raises his head enough to kiss Tony’s curls. He doesn’t often get to wake up with Tony. Steve lives in Brooklyn and Tony lives in Manhattan and they’re both so busy—Tony with SI’s R&D and Steve with his teaching—that they decided early on in their relationship that spending every single night together was a bad idea because one of them would always end up late to work. So this makes for a nice change.

Tony stirs, inhaling deeply. Steve brings his hand up to stroke over Tony’s hair, the way he likes it when they both have a rare day when neither of them have to be anywhere so they can spend the night. That’s when he sees it.

The ring.

The one that’s sitting on the ring finger of his left hand, exactly where it should be—except he’s not supposed to be wearing it for another week.

In the sleepy haze of waking up, he’d forgotten what they’d done last night but the memories are filtering in. Flashes of Tony excitedly talking him into finding a chapel and wrangling a couple witnesses from off the street and filing the marriage license a whole week early because both of them were more than tired of the wedding planning, the swell of emotions he’d felt at hearing Tony declared his husband and sweeping Tony off his feet and back to their hotel, kissing the whole way and probably scandalizing their Uber driver.

He groans and tips his head back against the pillows. Tony makes a low sound and yawns widely before slowly opening his eyes. He looks a little like an adorable kitten and Steve can’t resist kissing the top of his head again.

“Wuzzgoinon?” Tony mumbles sleepily.

“What’s going on,” Steve says, “is that your mother is going to kill us. No, she’s going to kill me, because you’re her darling angel who can do no wrong and she’s never once thought I’m good enough for you.”

“No, you’re better,” Tony says around another yawn. “Why is my mama going to kill you?”

Steve picks up Tony’s left hand and waves it in front of his face. Tony goes cross-eyed trying to make out what’s different about his hand. “Oh,” he says eventually and lays his head back down on Steve’s chest.

“Oh?” Steve asks. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“If Mama didn’t want us to elope, she shouldn’t have sent us to Vegas by ourselves to pick up the rings,” Tony says, as though he’s pointing out something reasonable, even though this is the most absurd thing that’s ever happened in Steve’s entire life—and his best friends are Bucky and Sam. Those two are the very definition of absurd. “Everyone knows what happens in Vegas.”

“This is your fault,” Steve informs him. “If you hadn’t insisted on this particular jeweler—”

“Hmm maybe I was planning this,” Tony hums, closing his eyes again.

And that’s… that’s actually entirely possible. Ever since they got engaged, Tony has been complaining about the big white wedding Mrs. Stark wants them to have and threatening to steal Steve away to the courthouse to elope. Steve had thought he’d calmed down about the whole affair after Mrs. Stark’s tearful outburst about her just wanting her baby to have the perfect wedding (Tony is nothing if not his mama’s boy), but maybe he’d been planning on this instead. He had thought it odd when Tony had insisted on a small-name jeweler in Las Vegas who wouldn’t ship to New York, thereby forcing them to travel to pick up the rings, but if Tony had been planning this all along…

“Did you?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Tony stares up at him for a long moment, blinking. Then he dryly says, “Yes, Steve. I, who has never made a decision that wasn’t impulsive even once in my entire life, somehow managed to both plan out a trip to Vegas to get married and keep it a secret from the love of my life who knows everything I’m thinking before even I know it.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Steve says, grinning at him. What they’ve just done hits him and he laughs giddily. He sits up, pulling Tony up with him to give him a closed-mouthed good morning kiss. “We’re married.”

Tony smiles happily and kisses him again. “Yeah, we are. Good morning, Mr. Stark-Rogers.”

He likes the sound of that. He really likes the sound of that. Another kiss. “What are we going to tell everyone?” he asks.

“Hmm. How about we got so caught up in the thrill of picking up the rings that we abandoned all reason and got married here? It’s not like the big white wedding my mama wants even really matters in the grand scheme of things. It’s the marriage license that counts.”

“She’s still going to want it.”

“Undoubtedly. And we’ll give it to her. But this is nice, isn’t it?” Tony peers up at him anxiously. “No fuss, no caterers with ten different meal plans for all the restrictions, no Great-Auntie Mildred who shouts for the minister to speak louder. No stress at all.”

Steve leans back against the headboard, thinking about it. Tony’s right. They dealt with a lot less stress by getting married this way. But it isn’t just Great-Auntie Mildred that they left behind, it’s their friends too. It’s hard to know how he feels about that.

But then he starts thinking about the wedding picture the photographer had handed them before they left the chapel last night. Steve had tucked it into his wallet for safekeeping, and he reaches over to the bedside table to grab it, pulling the photo out so he can look at it. It’s a picture of their kiss. They’re holding onto each other so tight he’s not sure a piece of paper would fit between them, smiling so broadly that it’s barely a kiss at all. And he thinks about the engagement pictures Mrs. Stark had sent out in the announcement and wedding invitations: poised and perfect and not a smile to be seen anywhere.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, pulling Tony against his chest. Tony snuggles in, warm and beautiful and all Steve’s. “This was pretty damn perfect.”

Tony sighs contentedly and presses a kiss right over Steve’s heart. “Good.”

“But your mother’s still going to kill me.”

“We just won’t tell her,” Tony replies dismissively. “We’ll get married again and we won’t have to worry about the wedding because we’ll know we’re already married.”

“She’s going to notice the rings.”

“Not if we spend the whole week here.”

Steve stills. He hadn’t thought of that. It would solve a lot of problems, not least that Mrs. Stark would finally have free reign to do whatever she wanted with the wedding without any input from either of them. She was doing anyway, but at least now, they don’t have to hear about how their small family affair has turned into the society event of the year.

Tony continues in a wheedling voice, “Call out all our friends, treat it like an extended bachelor party—or our first honeymoon, take your pick.”

Steve stops him right there with another kiss, lingering this time. “And what are we going to do on our first honeymoon?”

“Blow all our money on slot machines. Count cards at the poker table. Go see some really truly ridiculous shows,” Tony says with a shrug. “What everyone does when they’re in Vegas.”

“Hmm somehow I don’t think counting cards is what everyone does.”

“I suppose everyone didn’t grow up with Ana Jarvis,” Tony muses. Steve laughs because it’s true. Howard might think that Tony is a troublemaker all on his own, but everyone knows that Tony learned it from the best.

He’s distracted out of his thoughts by Tony picking up his hand and gently kissing his wedding ring. “It’s the first day of the rest of our lives, darling,” Tony murmurs. “We can do whatever we want.”

Details for @tonystarkbingo

Title of Fill: Here's to Las Vegas Collaborator: iam93percentstardust Card Number: 4012 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676711 Square Filled: A3 - Free Square Ship/Main Pairing: Stevetony Rating: T Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Established Relationship, Fluff, Marriage Summary: The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him. Word Count: 1558

#alle writes #alle answers #stevetony #if you like please consider reblogging #mistyendings #tsbmiv

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eirikaanemo · 3 years

Text

Heavy Is The Crown

Warnings: None

Venti x GN!Minstrel!Reader

3.1k Words

Venti's a servant boy at the palace that you fall in love with... right?

You’re the apprentice of the renowned Minstrel Chapman of the Riverside Performers Company. And recently your company was invited to go perform at the palace for the royal family of Mondstadt. It’s understandable really, they probably need some joy and relaxation in their lives considering the difficult war that is waging on. Of course, you’re one of the few to see it that way.

“People are dying on the battlefield every day, and the King and Queen want to make merry?” Archibald scoffed. “Peace, Archibald,” Grisela soothed. “This war is difficult for them as well.” Archibald scoffed again but chose not to respond further. These sorts of discussions were common now-a-days, and a gap of misunderstanding and hurt is starting to grow between the rulers and their people.

This really concerned you because you’d once known the son of a Baron and he had explained these sorts of difficulties to you. Your goal was to try and help bridge the gap. Since Master Chapman has charged you to write a song yourself for the royal performance, you have decided to write a song that could help with that. But the problem is that you have no idea what to write! And you’re running out of time.

When your company reaches the palace the next day, you are no closer to having written the song than you were before. Thankfully you all had arrived at the palace a couple days early, so you still had some time to come up with your song. However, you were feeling so nervous that you couldn’t even focus on trying to compose it at all.

So you decided to take a break and wander around the palace grounds, as you and your company had been invited to do when you arrived. As you did so, admiring the beautiful flowers and bushes of the garden, you ended up running into someone. Literally as in one moment you were standing up, and the next you were sitting on the ground clutching your head.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry,” someone apologized to you. “I should’ve been better about looking where I was going. Are you okay?” Peeking up, you see a servant boy with black hair in braids with teal tips and a flower tucked behind his ear. “Yes, I’m fine,” you assure him. “A little stunned, but I’ll be alright in a minute.”

“Are you sure?” He asks worriedly. When you nod he breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear, Head Maid Maribel would have my head if I hurt a guest.” You smile and laugh a little. “Well we can’t have that,” you tease. “I’m sure you look much nicer when you have your head on your shoulders.” He stills for a moment from his fiddling from a moment before, a blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

Spluttering some, he manages to squeak out, “Oh, um, thanks?” You look at him oddly. “Don’t tell me no one’s ever teased you like that before,” you say. “I, um, won’t tell you then.” He jokes, calming down some. You smile some and give him a wink, “Well, I’m honored to be the first then.”

“Oh!” He exclaims. “I need to be pruning some bushes right now.” Your smile drops a bit, you’d been hoping to spend some more time with him. Noticing that, he adds on, “Would you like to come along? We could talk more while I prune.” You easily agree, “I’d like that very much, thank you.”

More confident now that he had something to focus on, he continued to make small talk with you. You introduce yourself and the two of you get to know each other better; he is ecstatic to know that you’re a minstrel and play the lyre. “I’m learning to play the lyre too!” He declares. “Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.” You smile at him, happy to know that you have that in common.

“I would like that! But,” you admit, “unfortunately, I’m afraid I don’t have the time right now. My master has told me to write a song and I’m struggling to get it out. With the war going on, I want to write a song to help bridge the gap between the royals and the commoners. From my experiences with the son of a Baron I knew, this war is just as hard for them as it is for us.”

He pauses from snipping away at the bush he’s working on. “You know, I’m glad you see it that way,” he tells you with an oddly grateful look in his eyes. “My p- Their majesties have really been struggling recently, especially with the loss of support from the people. For all the life of nobility looks wonderful, it comes at a cost. You lose freedom, always have to put others before yourself, can’t show any weakness, and bear the weight of every death on your shoulders.”

The odd phrasing and sudden correction go straight over your head as your muse suddenly rears its head. “I think I’ve got it now,” you blurt out. He blinks and tilts his head, confused. “Well I’m not sure what I did or said to help,” he replies, “but I’m glad I could help.”

You give him a big hug. “Really, you helped a lot,” you admit. “I need to go get started composing! But, uh, do you think I could see you again later?” He returns the hug. “Sure thing,” he murmurs in your ear. “I should be out here for the rest of today and all of tomorrow, but you’ll need to find me.”

“I think I can do that,” you murmur back and pull away from the hug. “See you tomorrow,” you call out to him as you start heading back to your Company. He watches you until you’re out of sight, before he goes back to pruning. “Well, that was fun,” he cheerfully tells himself. “I hope they do come back tomorrow. It’s not everyday I get to talk to someone like that.”

Composing the song was child’s play once you pick your lyre back up and get to work. The boy’s words repeat over and over in your head as you plan out lyrics and try different tunes. Master Chapman was thrilled when you played your song for him and assured you that the royals would love it. “It’s a wonderful tribute to all they do for us. And it helps us understand them and makes them more relatable to us,” he confirms. “I’m sure it will help you achieve your goal of helping bridge the gap between commoners and royals.”

When you find the boy the next day, you’re nearly vibrating in excitement. “Hey you,” you call. “Guess what?” His head turns to see you mid-snip and the branch lands on his head. You run over to make sure he’s okay. “Are you alright?” You ask him. “Yeah,” he responds sheepishly. “I guess this time it’s you who has to worry about getting me hurt.”

“Well that’s good,” you state, pouting at his teasing. “Oh! I realized yesterday that I don’t know your name!” He rubs the back of his head, embarrassed. “Ehe, sorry, I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Venti, it’s nice to officially meet you!”

“That’s a wonderful name,” you reply. “I like it a lot.” He smiles wide, “Thanks!” As the day continues you continue to talk with each other. Eventually he ropes you in to helping him with his chores. Thanks to that he gets done early and, after reporting back about finishing, he’s able to just spend the rest of the day with you.

After a certain point you’re able to admit to yourself that you’re falling for him. He’s cute, free-spirited, and makes you laugh. And maybe it’s just your imagination, but he seems to enjoy your time together too. The days left leading up to the performance are spent practicing and spending time with him. He’s tried to get you to play the song for him, but you insist that he wait for the performance to see.

The day of the performance comes very quickly, too quickly in your opinion. For all the compliments everyone who has heard your song gives you, and all the minds it has changed, you’re still incredibly nervous to perform it. What if they don’t like it? Will they find it presumptuous for you to write such a thing? When the time comes, will you mess up?

But the moment it’s your turn you take a deep breath, remind yourself that this is what you’re training for, and take your place on stage. Looking at the audience, you see the King and Queen, but, oddly enough, Prince Barbatos did not seem to be present. You strum your lyre and introduce yourself and your song. The audience seems intrigued that you would write such a song, so you take courage and start singing.

The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,

They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.

I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,

Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.

Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,

The true royal knows their people fed, before they sit to feast.

The good royal knows their people safe, before they takes their rest,

Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before they make request.

These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears a royal can't shed,

The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my soldiers dead.

Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—

And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!

(See: The Cost of the Crown by Mercedes Lackey, Debra F. Sanders)

As the last note fades the crowd stands with roaring applause. You feel a warmth spread across your cheeks as you bow deeply and return to your place standing with your company. Those standing around you congratulate you quietly as the next member steps up to perform.

Soon the performance is over and your Company is preparing to leave. Surprisingly many members of the Company had changed their minds about royals and the Company Head, Ferdinand, approached you to pass on the gratitude and appreciation from the King and Queen themselves. Venti showed up one last time, and Master Chapman allowed you to go speak with him as a treat for a job well done.

“That was amazing!” Venti shouts. “Did I really help you write that? I was hiding behind some curtains to listen and it was so amazing that I cried.” He grins so bright that you almost have to close your eyes. “I’m glad you liked it!” You say as you smile back. His happiness was contagious, and it didn’t help that you were completely smitten with him at this point. But alas, it was not meant to be.

Master Chapman called your name, letting you know that the Company would be leaving soon and that you’d have to come back within the next minute or two if you didn’t want to be left behind. Venti’s smile dims. “Are you sure you can’t stay?” He inquires. “Yes,” you sigh. “But who knows? Maybe I’ll see you again some day. But until then…” You trail off. He looks at you curiously, tilting his head again. Quickly, so as to not chicken out, you peck his check and run back to the Company.

“Until then!” You call out to him. The Company leaves as soon as you get there, so you’re not able to look back to see him. But if you could have, you would have seen him blushing as red as a rose, with a hand on his cheek where you kissed him. “Until then,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll make sure I’ll see you again.”

---

Years pass, and your apprenticeship ends. You make quite the name for yourself, and your song has worked wonders to heal the relationship between the people and their rules. Of course you write many more songs, but your first is always your favorite. Because he helped you write it. Many people have asked to court you, but you have turned them all down. Even after all these years, Venti the servant boy still holds your heart.

One day a messenger comes to speak with Ferdinand, bringing both good and bad news. Ferdinand calls the whole company together to share it. “Good friends, I’m sad to say that the King has passed away.” He announces, and the Company breaks into whispers and conversation. You think you may have even seen Gwenivere crying. “However, we have been invited to perform at Prince Barbatos’ coronation!”

This was wonderful news! Perhaps you could take this chance to see Venti again! You’d missed him dearly. But the more you thought about it, the more worried you became. Maybe he’d moved on and married someone else already. Would he still remember you? Will he want anything to do with you now? What if you didn’t like you and is upset about the kiss you gave him before you left?

You shake those thoughts out of your head and take a deep breath to calm yourself. Then you feel a hand clamp down on your shoulder and you must’ve jumped several feet in the air in your surprise because the person behind you burst into laughter. Embarrassed, you turn around to see Ferdinand, now laughing so hard that he was having trouble standing up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble at him, good naturedly. “I’m sure startling me was very funny.” Finally calming down, Ferdinand gave you a great big smile. “It most certainly was,” he assured you. “But I didn’t come to you with the intention to startle you.” You raise an eyebrow as you continues. “I wanted to let you know that you were actually mentioned by name, so you may want to prepare something special.

Your jaw dropped. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for someone to be specifically named, but this was from the Prince himself! Still stunned, you nodded. “I’ll write the best song I can,” you promised him. “I’m sure you will,” he replied confidently. He didn’t stay long after that, just letting you know the basics of when the Company would be leaving and how soon the coronation would be.

As you travel you do your best to compose a song. However, you soon find yourself stuck. Your muse is gone again, just like it was the last time you went to the palace. Oh well, perhaps Venti could help you again. It would be wonderful to spend more time with him anyway, so you don’t worry too much about it.

The Company reaches the palace after a week of travel. You look for Venti in the gardens all day, but can’t find him anywhere. ‘Perhaps he got moved to working in the castle?’ You wonder to yourself. But either way, that meant he wouldn’t be able to help you write your song. So you sat down that night and did your best to compose.

It wasn’t really working, but you did your best. The next morning was chaotic, as the Company had been informed that the Prince himself would be coming out to welcome you all. You hurriedly joined in making the company camp look presentable and changed into your best clothing before going out to stand with everyone else.

The Prince was announced before the palace doors opened to reveal… Venti. Your eyes went wide and your jaw must have dropped to the ground. Those who were in the company before very carefully didn’t turn to look at you, though the newbies couldn’t help but look at you, confused. You quickly composed yourself as he scanned the crowd, though the smiles of some of his guards told you that your reaction did not go unnoticed.

It was very much him. The same dark hair with teal tipped braids. His eyes brightened as they met yours. He strode forward and the crowd parted before him. You were about to move as well until he stopped before you, fell to one knee, took one of your hands, and gently kissed it. Your face warmed again in a way that it hadn’t since you last saw him.

His eyes sparkled with mirth as he saw the look on your face. “Hello again,” he said gently. “Hi,” you squeaked. “It’s, uh, it’s good to see you again?” He laughed, “It’s good to see you again too. I know I kept my status a secret before, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth then, but could I ask you a question?”

“O-of course,” you respond. He smiles charmingly. “Will you marry me?” That’s it. You must’ve died and gone to heaven. Or maybe someone had put something in your breakfast. Or maybe he had the wrong person. You looked side to side to see if there was anyone else he could be talking to before you point to yourself. “M-me?” You ask, hesitantly. “You,” he says confidently. “I fell in love with you all those years ago, and I could never imagine myself with someone else.

“Though I would understand if you’re with someone else. It’s been so long and you’re so wonderful that you must have received many invitations to courtship.” A shy smile spreads across your face. “I have received many offers,” you admit, and his face falls a bit. “But I’ve turned them all down. My heart was taken years ago by my dear Venti the servant boy.”

You get down on your knees and kiss the hand that is holding yours. “I would love to marry you, if you’ll have me.” He smiles brighter than the sun. “Nothing would make me happier,” he declares, and he pulls you in for a kiss. You pull away for air and nuzzle your nose against his. “I do have one request though,” you continue. “Anything, my love,” he swears. “Court me properly first, please,” you request.

“I can do that,” he laughs as he pulls you in for a hug. “How about we start with having lunch together,” he whispers in your ear. “That sounds like a great plan,” you agree. He gives you another quick kiss before standing up, pulling you to your feet, and leading you back to the palace.

You ignore the whistles and applause of your Company as you follow him, grateful for their support but wanting to give your suitor all your attention. This was the first day of the rest of your life, and you wanted to appreciate every minute of it. And every minute was just as wonderful as you’d ever imagined.

As queen, you were able to bring the kingdom together and closer than ever before. The people loved their rulers because they knew their rulers dedicated themselves to them. And the rulers responded in kind. The war ended, peace prevailed, and you got your perfect happily ever after.

#eirika writes #venti #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin impact x reader #royalty au

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lloydskywalkers · 4 years

Text

heirloom

first things first, this is entirely the product of the lovely @ninjawhoa‘s artwork, which you can find here (if you haven’t seen it already please give go give them love it’s sO good!!) so full credit to that piece for the inspiration :’D

second things i have a lot of feeling about lloyd. as always. happy birthday green boy i promise this is not entirely angst T-T

Forgotten

Lloyd is six years old and a child, and he cries more than all the other boys at Darkley’s put together.

He cries the first time he skins his knee, the first time he breaks his wrist, the first time the older boys crush the little frogs that live in the pond, the first time someone tells him he’s been forgotten by his family and every time after.

And that’d be okay, maybe. Like Brad putting fire ants in his bed the first night, it was only that first time. Lloyd learned to expect pranks after that and everything was fine. He learned how to act like a Darkley’s boy and eventually everyone forgot about it. It’s lame that Lloyd cried the first time, but at least it’s just the first time. If he learns to stop after that, then eventually, everyone will forget about it.

But Lloyd, six years old and brimming with his own ocean, doesn’t stop.

“What’s wrong, Garmadon? Gonna cry again?”

Lloyd stares at the frog, its eyes bulging just where its head sticks out from beneath Finn’s shoe. His lip stings, too-sharp teeth biting too tight. Lloyd hates his teeth. They always hurt, like all the times everyone tells him he’s nothing like his father.

“You should’a killed it slower,” another boy chimes in. “He always cries when they start croaking.”

Lloyd’s nails bite into his palms. He likes the frogs’ croaking, usually. It’s why he ended up over by the pond today, ‘cause they’re small and green and he likes how soft they are when they climb all over his hands.

His eyes burn, and one of Lloyd’s sharper teeth breaks through the skin of his lip. He shouldn’t’ve gone to see the frogs today. He shouldn’t’ve ever gone in the first place. If he hadn’t, the other boys wouldn’t’ve come over, and the poor frog wouldn’t be under Finn’s shoe right now. All Lloyd ever does to nice things like frogs is get them killed.

“Huh,” Finn squints at Lloyd, flinty eyes narrowing. “Maybe if I…”

His shoe comes down hard, squashing the frog flat with an ugly squelching sound. There’s a horrible echo of silence, and Lloyd hiccups.

“There we go,” Finn grins. He doesn’t have sharp teeth like Lloyd, but they always look so much crueler than his own ever have when he smiles like that. “Crybaby Garmadon. Can’t believe you’re still at school with us, all you ever do is blubber. What kinda villain are you, anyways?”

Lloyd wants to snap back. There’s not just tears in him, there’s fire too, and he’s the son of the Dark Lord. His blood boils, and for a second he thinks of vengeance—

Then it’s gone, lost in Lloyd’s overflowing ocean, and hot tears streak down his cheeks.

And that’s how it always goes. It’s awful, because Lloyd doesn’t even like crying. It doesn’t make him feel better, and it certainly doesn’t help anything. All it does is get him made fun of — son of the Dark Lord and grandson of the First Spinjitzu Master, and the best Lloyd can be is an embarrassment, crybaby Garmadon with no real friends.

He tries, of course. He tries, he tries so hard, but Lloyd can’t learn to stop. He bruises and breaks inside and out, bleeding but never scarring over. The scrapes on his knees heal up faster than any other boy’s, but inside Lloyd never toughens. He learns to spit fire and venom and pull up a mask, but his skin heals soft and Lloyd’s heart never gets any harder.

Even after he’s left the gates of Darkley’s, anger burning in his gut like a disease, he never stops welling up and running over, spilling out like an unending fountain of misery.

Chosen One

It’s the first time in Lloyd’s life he can remember wearing a color other than black, and he should be happy. He should be excited, ‘cause green’s always been one of his favorite colors and now he gets to wear it all the time, and ninja gi’s are so much more comfy than the stuffy Darkley’s uniforms.

Instead, he just wants to cry.

And he’d though the weapons lighting up were pretty, at first.

The first thing Lloyd does, once the others are distracted enough and there aren’t anymore eyes on him, is bolt. It takes longer than he’d thought, and his eyes nearly burst from pressure, but he probably should’ve expected that. He’s the Green Ninja now, after all.

Lloyd sinks his teeth into his lip, trying desperately not to let the burn in his eyes overflow. He can’t cry now. He’s the Green Ninja, he’s got a destiny, and people with destinies like that don’t cry. The ninja have been talking about the Green Ninja for weeks, Lloyd knows what they expect. They expect a hero, a savior, and now they’re stuck with Lloyd. It’s the least he can do not to cry.

Well, not in front of them, at least.

Lloyd squeezes himself between the pipes in the engine room, crawling into one of the corners as he sniffs thickly. If no one knows he’s crying, then it doesn’t really count, right? If none of the ninja, or Nya, or Uncle Wu, or his dad — if they don’t see him cry, then it doesn’t count. They never have to know. Lloyd will just — he’ll just make sure to be extra quiet, and no one will have to know that the Green Ninja’s a stupid crybaby.

Something hot trickles down his right cheek, and Lloyd bites his lip furiously. He goes to wipe angrily at it, then freezes. The sleeves of the gi he’s wearing are a deep green, soft but sturdy and nicer than anything Lloyd’s ever owned in his whole life. He’s immediately horrified with himself. This is the green gi, everything everybody’s ever wanted, apparently, and Lloyd’s gonna go wiping his tears all over it?

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Lloyd scolds himself, sniffing wetly again. He’s only been the Green Ninja for a day and he’s already ruining it.

The pipes creak loudly as someone’s footsteps echo from above, and Lloyd sucks in a breath, drawing his knees up to his chest. He feels a little sick to his stomach, and his heart feels like it decided to start running laps in his chest.

Green Ninja. He’s supposed to save Ninjago. Lloyd can’t even save one tiny frog. How in the world is he supposed to save everyone from his own dad?

The sick feeling grows worse, and Lloyd’s eyes grow blurry. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, refusing to let them well over. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t—

“Hey, Lloyd, you in here?”

Lloyd’s eyes snap open, and gasps out a sharp breath of surprise. He immediately claps a hand over his mouth, cursing himself, but it’s too late. Kai’s already tracked him down, squinting at him through the mess of pipes.

“Seriously, you pick here to hide?” Kai frowns. “I could’ve sworn you were claustrophobic.”

Lloyd has no idea what that means, but he wasn’t planning on saying anything back anyways. He buries his face in his arms instead, before Kai gets any ideas about what Lloyd’s doing down here.

“Hey, you uh — you wanna come out, so we can talk about it?”

Lloyd pulls his arms around his head tighter, and doesn’t look up.

Kai groans, sounding defeated. “Fine, I’ll do it your way. Just — gimme a sec.”

Despite himself, Lloyd peeks over his arms, watching as Kai gingerly squeezes himself around the pipes.

“How did you — ow — even get yourself in here — ow, son of — in the first place?”

Lloyd stares with wide eyes as Kai wrenches himself through the last of the pipes, scowling as he brushes his hair back into place. He shakes his head, then sits next to Lloyd with a huff, clearly uncomfortable in the cramped space.

“So, um. You want to. You want to, uh, talk about it? The whole ninja thing?”

Kai winces the moment he finishes speaking, but Lloyd’s too busy biting his lip to care much. Why did Kai have to come now? He’s just starting to think Kai might like having him around, and now he’s gonna see Lloyd crying, and he’s gonna — he’s gonna—

Kai’s eyes widen as he meets Lloyd’s own. “Or, uh, you don’t have to talk. We can just sit here, if you want, but—” He blows his breath out, messing with his hair again. “You’re not alone, okay? And it’s okay to be scared, but you’ve got us, so…maybe you can be…a little less scared.”

Oh. Kai looks pained as he trails off into silence. Lloyd swallows. He can feel the familiar slip of tears down his cheek, but he doesn’t sob. He doesn’t buckle over, or hiccup, he just gives a shuddery little breath and blinks away the blurriness. Kai’s eyes go even wider, and Lloyd watches him scramble for his pockets.

“Aw, kid — um, hold on, I think I’ve got a — wait, no, Zane’s the only one who ever has tissues, um—”

Clearly at a war with himself, Kai finally tugs the edge of his gi sleeve over his hand, and gingerly dabs at Lloyd’s cheek. Lloyd sits frozen, eyes still wet. Despite the awkward way Kai cringes, he’s still gentle as he wipes the tears away. He doesn’t laugh at Lloyd, or call him crybaby, or an embarrassment. He doesn’t even mention the Green Ninja.

Lloyd’s eyes still overflow, but he can’t help but think that maybe — maybe Kai is the kind of person he’d trust with the little frogs. He seems like the kind of person who could get it, maybe.

Leader

Lloyd’s been figuring he’d learn how to stop crying when he gets older. He hadn’t been figuring it’d be so soon.

He grows up, just…much quicker than he thought he would. He also gets taller, and his voice gets deeper, and his legs are too long and his arms are too strong and everyone treats him like he’s the most grown-up kid in the whole entire world.

Well, except for the times the guys and Nya treat him like he’s five, but — those are getting less irritating, the further he gets. But Lloyd’s undeniably older, and he could be alright with that. He’s the Green Ninja, and he is alright with that.

He just wishes he’d gotten used to being the Green Ninja a little longer, before the Golden Ninja got added on top of everything else too.

“You’ve inherited the power of your grandfather,” Uncle Wu — Sensei, when in training, and around important people — tells him, his eyes shining. “It’s an incredible gift, Lloyd. The power of the Ultimate Spinjitzu Master — few have even dreamed of possessing such a thing.”

Well Lloyd’s definitely not one of those few. He’d known about the First Spinjitzu Master, but everything he knows about the Ultimate Spinjitzu Master is a lot more…hand-wavy.

“Hand-wavy is hardly the way to talk about it,” his mother scolds, even as she frowns at his ankle. Things had finally calmed down enough for the others to drag him off to a doctor for it, even though Lloyd had argued it was fine. And it should’ve been — the golden power’s gotta be good for something, and if it can’t even fix the ankle you snapped fighting to get it in the first place then what’s the point?

His mother finishes tying the wrapping off, and Lloyd flinches as his ankle throbs, the thick bandages pulling tight. The reminder of how it had first cracked on the Dark Island still makes him nauseous, but it’s not nearly as bad now. He swallows it back easily, just like he did back when he first woke up with it. This is nothing, compared to climbing the tower. And even then, he barely noticed.

At least broken bones are easier when you’re older, he thinks, dully listening to his uncle and mom argue about the golden power again. He slips out of the room as quietly as he can, hurrying back to where he last saw the others. It’s not like he’s ever really involved in the conversation, anyways. Lloyd gets the golden power whether Lloyd likes the golden power or not, end of discussion. It might’ve been nice to be part of the discussion, but he’s…he’s okay with it. Most of the time.

Lloyd swallows, then shakes his head, trying to smile instead. It’s not that he’s ungrateful, and he doesn’t understand how he’s still so selfish — he’s got a family now, more than he’d ever dreamed of having. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and a few more titles should be easy price to pay.

They just — they feel so heavy, sometimes, all piling on top of each other. Lloyd’s barely began figuring out how he’s supposed to be the Green Ninja, and now he’s got all these other titles to figure out, too?

He kicks dully at the ground. He thought things were supposed to make sense, when you got older.

They don’t, though, and it drives him crazy because they never do. He’s the Golden Ninja then he’s not the Golden Ninja, he’s the Green Ninja but also the elemental master of what’s-it-called, and now Uncle Wu’s calling him leader during training, and Lloyd nearly breaks his neck tripping over his own feet.

It’s not a pretty look, judging by the concerned expressions the others are wearing. Lloyd passes it off as exhaustion, and begs off training for the day instead. There might be a look of concern that passes across Uncle — Sensei Wu’s face, but Lloyd misses it if there is. He’s too busy reeling, spiraling in a dizzying loop as his footsteps take him aimlessly away from the training grounds.

It’s okay, he tells himself. He’s come this far. He’s got so many titles already, what’s one more? And really, compared to Golden Ninja, leader is—

Lloyd’s stomachs turns, and he bites his lip. Well, maybe he’s more frightened than he’d like to admit.

He sucks a breath in, steadying himself. Leader. It can’t be such a scary word forever, right? He can make it work. This is Kai, and Cole, and Jay, and Zane. They’re his family. If he can’t lead them, he may as well hang up the green gi now.

And that’s obviously not an option.

Lloyd takes another steadying breath, and blinks. His eyes sting, but it’s not with any kind of tears. It’s an odd, tinging kind of sting, like the kind that pulses through his fingertips, that sings through his veins. He’d say it’s strength, but it feels more complex than that. Either way, he takes strength from it. Lloyd blinks again, looking back up to the monastery, and his eyes are dry.

He’s older now. He doesn’t cry anymore. His heart might refuse to harden, and he doesn’t doubt it’ll ever stop breaking, but Lloyd’s ocean, overflowing and bleeding over, has finally run out.

Or that’s what he likes to think, at least.

Hero

At this point, Lloyd doesn’t think he’ll be surprised by anything. There’s a benefit in growing his hair and having his voice finally change, other than the obvious — it’s a lot easier to just despair internally now, and hopefully still look like he’s cool and composed.

Not that anything about what Harumi and his father’s done to him is cool, but…Lloyd is better at resigning himself to these things. At least he’s old enough to start the conversations himself, now.

Lloyd still doesn’t know how old he is. He supposes it doesn’t matter as much, now that he knows what’s running through his blood. The days he used to fear it was venom are long-gone and laughable — is the blood of an Oni worse? The blood of a dragon, surely, has to mean something good, but Lloyd is made up of so many pieces he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be now.

He could be bitter, maybe, that he’s gone his whole life not knowing what he is, but bitterness is something that’s never rested long in Lloyd’s heart. Even before the city’s stopped burning and his father’s locked away, it’s hard to hold onto it. He’s never quite been able to shake that. He’s got more scars than he can count now, but his heart still heals soft. Anger isn’t something he can hold onto for very long, and resentment doesn’t work that well when you’re the one that ends up feeling bad.

He doesn’t cry anymore, though. Not after the sky tram. Not when his bones break, not when his father spits in his face, not when Zane freezes the better part of him with hateful eyes. Harumi and her downfall may have scarred him, but part of Lloyd can’t help but be grateful that she’s finally done what Darkley’s never could.

Lloyd’s scarred over, his skin finally toughened.

And yet—

Lloyd hurries away from the streets, sparing the car that’s honked at him a dirty look before tucking his hands against his rain jacket, sheltering his cupped palms from the misting rain. It’s not a bad storm, but it’s enough to turn the sky a silvery gray as he climbs the steps to the monastery, his pace quicker than usual as he cuts a path to the ponds.

He skids a few feet on the wet grass as he goes, biting back a curse as his shoes slip wildly before he catches his balance again, hands still held close to his chest. He breathes a quick sigh of relief, before picking his way over to the nearest of the small ponds that dot the monastery gardens.

“Here you go, little guy,” he murmurs, finally pulling his hands from his jacket, revealing the tiny frog cradled gently in his palms. The poor thing trembles in his hold, still shaking from the near-miss when Lloyd fished him from the worst of Ninjago City’s rush hour traffic. He might’ve missed it himself, had it not been for the slight flash of green along the worn grey pavement.

He lowers himself carefully near the pond, dipping his hands in the shallows of the water. The frog doesn’t move at first, it’s eyes wide and buggy as it shelters in Lloyd’s palms.

“It’s alright,” Lloyd assures it quietly. “It’s safe, here. Promise.”

The frog considers the pond before it, big eyes blinking. Then, in two short hops, it splashes into the water, swimming a few feet before nestling at the edge of a water lily. It lets out a single, happy croak.

Lloyd watches it for a moment longer, his hands still half in the water, raindrops splattering over his jacket sleeves. Finally satisfied that the frog is content, he stands, shaking the water from his hands before remembering he’s soaked from the rain anyways. Sighing, he spares the frog one last glance, his lips curving into a smile as he turns away, wiping rainwater from where it drips down into his eyes.

Lloyd is older than he’d thought he’d get to be and still a child, and he doesn’t cry at all.

Then again, he’s gotten better at finding the bright sides, these days.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #bc i cannot write one fic where he doesn't sneak his way in #also slight animal cruelty tw the darkley's kids aren't nice :((#but only that tiny bit the rest is lloyd being lloyd #nwuh ily #my fic

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princess-of-riviaa · 4 years

Text

My Captain

Pairing: Captain Walter Syverson x Reader

Summary: You are the only one by his side to heal him after Captain Syverson gets attacked in the field. As an army medic, you do your best to stay professional, but Syverson makes it a bit of a challenge.

Warning(s): gore, injury, mentions of suicide, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism

Word Count: 3,930

A/N: Apologies for no gif, i couldn’t find any that fit this scene and I didn’t want to settle for a random one of Sy, so I put nothing:(

The door to the bathroom slams open as you half-limp to the bathtub, your captain struggling to remain conscious. Syverson is a big guy, even for military standards, but your thorough army training allows you to help keep him on his feet, though you struggle to do much more than that. You place him in the bathtub but accidentally lose your grip at the last second. He falls with a cringeworthy thud that is sure to leave a deep bruise on his glute.

“Shit, I’m sorry--I lost my grip,” you get out as you hurry back through the captain’s main room--damn, his quarters are way nicer than yours; he’s living like a king in comparison to your shared dorm--and find his emergency aid kit. There’s enough gauze and stitches in it to cover his wounds. You rush back to the bathroom and turn on the faucet. Hot water comes pouring out, instantly filling the room with steam.

Syverson’s eyelids droop. That’s a worrying sign, especially since the skin around his mouth is still blue.

You reach for your swiss knife on your belt--the last clean weapon you have--and slice open the captain’s bloodied shirt. He isn’t much help in getting his clothing over his shoulders and down his legs, but after a minute or two of awkward struggling you toss the ruined clothes in the corner to deal with later.

By now the tub is halfway full, sloshing around Syverson’s legs as you maneuver around his body, trying to clean out the wounds on his arms before stitching them shut with half-shaking hands. You’ve dealt with wounded soldiers in the field before, too many times to count, but this is different. This is your captain, your leader, the person you and the rest of your unit turn to for guidance on anything and everything, and he’s bleeding out right in front of you--while simultaneously suffering from hypothermia.

Syverson mumbles something, but he speaks too softly for you to understand him. Still, the sound of his voice gets your attention and you look up to see his eyes closed. You tap his cheek three times to get him to wake up again.

“...fucking hurts,” you hear him mumble.

You nod. “I know, but it’s almost over. You just gotta hold on, okay? Keep your eyes on me, okay?”

You turn your attention back to his bicep, pulling the thread through your last stitch to his bullet wound. You sigh in relief just as you see the water begin to stir. One glance down at Syverson’s body tells you that his legs are shaking--he’s shivering.

“I shouldn’t be… shiverin’ … in hot water, right?” He struggles to get out through waves of fatigue and pain and cold.

“It’s good,” you assure him. “Shivering means your body is warming up again. You were too cold to shiver before. The blood loss wasn’t helping either, but your wounds are closed now, so that should help.”

Silence passes between you. He makes an obvious effort to keep his eyes open and not let his teeth chatter. You watch as the color in his face returns to normal, a lively red filling his cheeks and lips again.

You begin to rise to your feet. “Okay, I’ll wait in the room--”

He grabs your hand before you can move. You stare down at it, your brain trying to process the sight in front of you. He didn’t just grab your hand. He laced his fingers through your own. He holds your hand with a desperate grip, a terrified grip. Syverson has never let himself look like anything other than a god of war in front of his men. But right now is different. Your captain is in enough pain to make him scared; ten minutes ago he was giving death a stare-down, so you can’t entirely blame him. It’s just… alarming. You’ve never seen him look like this before. He’s never seemed so… human.

Just one more thing to add to the neverending list of things that makes Syverson hot as fucking hell.

“S-stay,” he whimpers out. His voice is so weak that you suddenly feel bad for ogling over him, even if it was only for a few seconds.

“I won’t go anywhere,” you promise him and move to sit beside the tub.

The water fills with blood and dirt and grime quickly. You have to drain the tub and refill it twice before the water is anything close to clean. By that point Syverson is back to his senses and refuses to tell you how bad the pain is, no matter how many times you remind him that you’re the medic and it’s crucial that he be honest with you.

I ain’t dying, so quit acting like I am, is all he says.

Now that the mood in the room has settled, you can no longer ignore the fact that your captain is completely naked in front of you. You force yourself to keep your gaze on his wounds, refusing to look anywhere south of his chest, but the temptation is still there. A taut warmth makes its home in the pit of your stomach. It takes everything in you to not focus on the… particular body parts you can sneak into your peripheral vision.

Stay professional, you scold yourself.

“I’m dirty as all hell,” Syverson says suddenly, breaking the tense silence. He nods towards the sink. “There’s a sponge under the sink. Hand me it, will ya?”

You find it easily, though hold back from laughing at the fact that Captain Walter Syverson owns a pink shower puff.

“Don’t you dare.” He scowls as he takes it from you and begins to scrub his arms clean of dirt, careful to avoid his fresh stitches.

You hold your hands up innocently. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You were thinking it.” Syverson struggles to reach his shoulders and winces as he stretches to scrub his back.

You move to sit behind him and tell him you can do it. He offers you the shower puff and you slowly, gently begin to clean his back, mesmerized by the artpiece between his shoulder blades. You’ve never seen Syverson completely shirtless before, so this is your first time seeing the tattoo. It’s two rows of dates written in thick Roman numerals: 08.12.1980 - 09.11.2001. You’ve seen these kinds of tattoos before. They’re in remembrance of someone you’ve lost, usually their birthday to their death date. You get the urge to ask Syverson who died, who he lost, but you know him well enough to know that he’d be grateful if you didn’t pry. So you stay silent, instead continuing to scrub his back and the parts of his arms he missed.

Once his back is clean you move back to his side and start to clean his legs, starting at his ankles and working your way up. You’re so focused on the water and soap in your hands, in every scar and fresh cut your hands rub against as you clean him, that you hardly hear him speak.

“It was my brother,” Syverson says.

You look up at him, not knowing what he’s referring to. “What was?”

“The tatt,” he confesses. “I know you saw it.”

You’re quiet, resisting the urge to voice every question you’re thinking right now. You never knew Syverson had siblings, let alone a brother that he’d lost.

“Thank you,” Syverson says as you make your way to his knees, your heart racing faster the further up his leg you move.

You pause. “Why are you thanking me?”

“You didn’t ask about it,” he explains. “Most people are too curious to be respectful and shut their mouths. And you didn’t look at me with pity when I told you it was my brother. Everyone does. I fucking hate it.”

You shrug. “It’s your story. You shouldn’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“You’ve lost someone,” he realizes.

You’re quiet. It’s hard to grow up in a military family and not have lost a few people. Of course you’ve lost someone. Doesn’t mean you ever want to say the words out loud. But Syverson told you, and it’s only fair. “My cousin. He, um… he killed himself.”

Syverson doesn’t say anything, just nods, but the look in his eyes when he holds your gaze… you feel seen. You feel like he’s heard everything you didn’t say. It’s a weird feeling. Not bad, but not exactly good either. But it helps.

You return to cleaning his legs. You move as slow as you can, making sure to clean over every inch of skin twice, but it’s only a matter of time before you make it past his thighs and have nothing left to clean but his navel.

“Um…” Shit, your breathing is unsteady. He can no doubt hear the nerves in your voice. You avoid his gaze as you ask, “Do you want me to…?” Do you want me to clean your navel? I’ll happily clean your cock too, just say the word.

Instead of answering he grabs your wrist and draws your hand and the shower puff towards the pit of his stomach. Your heart skips a beat. Two. Fuck, you can feel how wet you are suddenly. For the first time you let your gaze drop to his manhood. He’s blessed with a good eight inches and thick girth, so thick you have to wonder how the hell he can get inside a woman without splitting her in two. Dark hairs curl above the base of his shaft, and his balls look heavy and smooth. Heat rushes to your face as you feel your mouth begin to water. What the hell is wrong with you? You have no doubt that Syverson is aware of exactly which part of him you’re staring at, and you can practically feel him gloating. Still, you can’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away from him.

“Sy--”

“I want you,” he confesses.

You swallow, unable to meet his gaze. He’s delirious from the blood loss, or maybe the heat in the room is getting to you and you’re hallucinating--

“I’ve wanted you since that night you walked in on me and Captain Gonzalez,” Syverson continues, and his words bring back a flood of memories that, until now, you’ve managed to suppress.

You’d been wandering to the captain’s quarters--you were bringing something to him, but now you can’t remember what it was--and stopped to knock on his door when you heard the sound of someone moaning in what you thought had been pain. So you’d opened the door, your mind switching from Sergeant to Medic in less than a second, and froze when you saw what was actually happening.

Captain Gonzalez, one of the three captains on base, was on her hands and knees. Her black hair--normally combed back into a perfect low bun--was knotted and sticking to her face with thick droplets of sweat. Her eyes were closed in what could only be described as pleasure so intense it’s borderline painful. She gripped the bedsheets in front of her like they were a lifeline while Captain Syverson fucked into her from behind like a dog in heat. The muscles in his stomach and arms flexed with each thrust, and the way his brow furrowed in concentration on top of the animalistic grunts he made with each movement made you gasp. Luckily, Gonzalez didn’t hear and therefore didn’t open her eyes amidst her blissful orgasm, but Syverson heard. Syverson looked from his lover to you. His pace didn’t stop, merely slowed as he held your gaze. And then, when he realized you couldn’t seem to look away, he sped up his movements, pounding into the other women with such strength and intensity that the headboard banged against the wall. He was putting on a show for you. A predator toying with his prey, making you completely aware of every ounce of power inside his body. Making you aware of everything he was capable of, the pain and pleasure he was able to make someone drown in. For several seconds you stood frozen, unable to walk away from this side of him. He was the pure embodiment of strength and dominance--though there was nothing pure about it. You raced out of the room as soon as your brain figured out how to work again. You didn’t dare look back.

You thought he’d forgotten about it. You thought you’d imagined him catching you. You thought the entire encounter had been a dream.

But Syverson’s words make your worst nightmare come true.

You pull your hand away, dropping the shower puff and letting it bounce on the surface of the water. “I’m so sorry, I never meant to walk in on you--”

“But you were glad you did,” he says. “I can see it all over your face. You haven’t been the same around me since that night. You barely look me in the eyes anymore. Because you liked it, right? Because you liked watching your captain fuck someone, liked knowing I can make a woman scream so easily, huh? Tell me, did you touch yourself to the thought of me when you went back to your dorm that night?”

“Syverson--” you begin.

“Would it make you feel better if you knew I jerked off to the thought of you, too? The way you looked at me, that cute little blush on your cheeks and your eyes glued to my body--fuck, it left me unsatisfied even after Gonzalez had had her fill.” He lifts his hand from the water and grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He searches your face for something. “I want you, and I know you want me.”

You open your mouth but he beats you to it.

“Am I wrong?”

You hesitate before shaking your head, admitting what you always swore you would keep secret. “But you’re my captain.”

“I don’t care about rank,” he insists. “Not in here. Not right now.”

You swallow, unable to walk away from him. You want this--god, do you want this with him. You didn’t realize how much until that night you walked in on him, but it was undeniable after that. And you’ve spent too many nights since then getting yourself off to the thought of him fucking you just like that, doing your best to muffle your moans into your pillow so as not to wake your roommate. You’re tired of just using your own hand to find your release; you want to know what it would feel like with his fingers between your folds instead.

“I want you to touch me,” Syverson says. “But I won’t force you. You’ll only do this if you let yourself.”

You hesitate. You don’t even know where to start. “H-how?”

“The way you’ve thought about doing since that night.” His voice is barely more than a whisper, but it sends shivers down your spine and steals the breath from your lungs.

Before you can talk yourself out of it you lower your hand into the water and wrap your hand around the base of his shaft. He’s long enough that his tip breaks the water’s surface. You can see how red it is, and you can’t tell if it’s bath water or precum making his tip shine, but you want to taste it nonetheless.

“Fuck, you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to see this,” Syverson curses. “How long I’ve wanted to feel your hand wrapped around my cock. Go ahead, baby, move your hand up and down.”

You’re hesitant at first. Even once you begin to move, your hand is shaky and unsure. Syverson wraps his hand around your own--fuck, he makes your hand look so tiny, it’s almost laughable--and guides you up and down his cock at a pace and grip that he prefers. He closes his eyes in pleasure. The sight of him like this--open and vulnerable and lustful and godlike--makes your thighs clench together. You almost lose yourself in the sight of the blissed-out expression on his face before remembering that you have a task to do and you turn your attention back to his shaft. He drops his hand back to his side and lets you continue. You take pride in the fact that you know how to do it now, and when he releases his first “fuck!” and a deep moan quickly after, you’re practically glowing with pride. Or you would be, if the sight of him and the sounds he’s making only for you weren’t so arousing. You speed up your ministrations and even add a second hand to the water to begin massaging his balls. You’re not entirely sure what you’re doing--you’ve never actually been physical with a guy before--but you’ve watched enough porn to know the basics. Syverson’s breathing speeds up and he throws his head back. You watch with lustful adoration as his abs clench and unclench with every breath he struggles to take.

“Does this feel good?” you dare to ask, your voice breaking through the quiet in the room.

“Shit, baby, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up,” he growls.

The way he says baby with that Texan accent of his makes you swoon. How can he make such a simple word sound so dirty?

Your hand moves up and down his shaft twice, three more times before he squeezes your wrist to make you stop. You freeze, thinking you’ve done something wrong. When you look up at him, his blue-eyed gaze is on you.

“I ain’t wasting my seed in this bathwater,” he says. “The only way I’m coming is if it’s inside of you.”

Your eyes pop. The alarm must be written all over your face because he’s quick to explain himself.

“Your mouth, baby,” Syverson says. “I wanna cum in your mouth.”

His candor leaves you speechless. Your entire face is burning with an intense blush and your mouth is dry. You know you won’t be able to answer him verbally. So instead you turn towards the drain and pull it up. Syverson’s gaze is so intense that it burns a hole in the side of your face, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. He’s turned you into shaking putty, but you’re not complaining. The way he makes you feel wanted more than any other woman with just his words, the way he makes you feel sexy and powerful with the way he looks at you… it’s definitely startling, but it’s addicting too.

“When I’m healed,” Syverson begins, “and I can actually move without it feeling like every bone in my body is breaking, I’m going to fuck you.”

He’s not asking for permission. He’s telling you. There’s something so dominant about that. It makes your toes curl.

“I need to be inside of you, darlin’,” he continues. “I need to know what you feel like when I enter you, need to know the sounds you make when I fuck you to your fifth orgasm. You got that?”

You finally bring your eyes to his and nod. Somehow your body is burning up yet covered in goosebumps. Have you ever wanted someone with the intensity that you want your captain?

The last of the water finally drains out of the tub and you hop inside. Syverson is large enough that it’s a tight fit with the both of you, but you manage to fit between his legs. You move to your hands and knees, staring at his cock just inches from your face.

“Put me in your mouth baby,” he moans.

And you do. The salt of his precum hits your tastebuds instantly, but it’s not a completely horrible taste. You manage to fit the majority of him inside of your mouth, something he’s clearly surprised about.

“Fuck baby, have you done this before? Let other soldiers fuck that perfect little mouth of yours?”

You don’t answer, instead just focus on not gagging too much around his shaft. You don’t succeed for long. By the time you pull back and take in a deep gasp of air, spit is running down your chin and your eyes are watering.

“You’ve no idea how fuckin’ hot you look right now,” Syverson says, sounding like he’s under a trance.

His filthy words spur you on and you put him back in your mouth. You begin to bob your head up and down and move your hand along the base of him, which you still can’t manage to fit inside your mouth. He only lasts a few seconds with you in control. You jump when you feel his good hand move to the back of your hand.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” he asks.

You moan in response, and you hope he knows that means yes.

He knots his fingers in your hair and begins to move your head along his shaft at a much faster pace. You can’t breathe through your mouth anymore and instead focus on getting air through your nose as your eyes water again. Syverson makes a sound you’ve never heard from him before--a sound of someone tumbling over an edge, a sound of losing control and loving every second of it--and a second later your mouth is filled with the warm, salty taste of his cum. You swallow every warm drop that falls against your tongue.

It’s only when you finally pull away from him that you realize the gravity of what you’ve just done. You just gave your boss a blowjob. You just bathed him while he was completely naked. You just admitted that you have a crush on him, even if you didn’t use as many words.

“Shit,” you breathe out.

“What is it?” Syverson asks, still fighting through his haze of pleasure.

“I can’t believe we just did this,” you admit. “I can’t believe I just…” You can’t even say it out loud. What had you been thinking?! You hadn’t been thinking, that much is clear.

“No one has to know,” he assures you. It doesn’t make you feel any better. So he adds, “And if someone does find out, which I’m sure as hell won’t happen, I’ll tell them the truth.”

You frown. “The truth?”

“That I came onto you,” he says. “And with me being your superior, you didn’t want to say no.”

“Syverson, that’s not true--”

“No one needs to know that,” he assures you. “I ain’t gonna let you get in trouble for this, alright? You gotta trust me.”

Well… he’s never let you down before. He’s kept his promises. He’s a good, trustworthy leader. You have no reason to not believe him. But still… “I can’t let you take the fall for this.”

He shrugs, then winces, instantly regretting the nonchalant movement. “The worst that’ll happen is I get probation. I won’t be able to go out to the field with y’all for a month. You’ll probably be under Gonzalez’s jurisdiction for a bit. That’s all.”

“That sounds serious,” you say.

He just brings his good hand to the side of your face and brushes his thumb across your cheek. “I knew the stakes when you carried me in here, Sergeant. I took the risk anyway. I’m gonna be the one who takes the fall for it. But trust me when I say it’ll be okay. I ain’t letting anything happen to you.”

And with the way his blue eyes shine with sincerity, you can’t help but believe him.

***

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teeztheflag · 3 years

Text

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S i e b e n S i n n e (Seven Senses) II

⋆ pairing: catking!san x reader (x human!woo young)

⋆ genre: yandere au, fantasy au, suggestive

⋆ trigger warnings ⚠️ strong language, yanderish behaviour, possessiveness, violence

⋆ words: 6,800

a/n: second part! I hope you like it :) gimme feedback you lovely people <3

part I part II part III

⋆ „You’re a cat now. Did you already forget?“

─────────────────────

You were shaking heavily. Thoughts running a mile per hour you could just think of the boy that helped you earlier to find the way out of the kingdom.

He said he would torture him... It wasn’t his fault. You brought him into the situation.

You stand up and make your way to the door trying to open it without success. Your banging and yelling doesn’t seem to bug someone because no one comes and no one openes it or talks to you. You slide down the door your head between your palms feeling the soft fur of your ears.

This is a bad dream. A very bad dream.

You try to control your breathing but can’t stop the tears that roll down your reddened cheeks. Everything was too much for you. You were confused and feare the worst... What if San would hurt you, too? The look in his eyes was wild and feral when he left you about half an hour ago. Your fingers find their way to the cold material of your necklace. It suddenly feels much more heavy than yesterday.

You want to rip it off your hand already a strong grip on it but you understand that it would probably only anger him more if he saw it. After a few minutes you stand up and look around the chambers of San. Everything seemed very neat and the room also led to a huge bathroom and a dressing room that owned the probably most expensive fabrics you’ve ever seen.

There was a mirror inside the en-suite and you watch your appearance in awe. Your tail doesn’t move around much and your ears seem to hang down a little bit representing your sorrowful mood all along.

Suddenly you hear a thud and a light call for your voice indicating that San had to be back. You turn around and leave the dressing room to see him standing in the room with slight wet hair, ears and tail and new clothes.

His eyes immediately turn soft seeing you and with a shaky sigh he gets down on his knees in front of you dismissing your hurtful glare.

„I am sorry. I shouldn’t have left you in this state.“

You look down on him bewildered at his choice of words but are quick to do the only logical thing - play by his game.

„My king. I am the one to be sorry. I think it won’t bring us anywhere if I lie to you. I tried to leave you but ... I have a good reason to try so.“

San looks up an interested glint on his face and his lips parting a few times before he speaks up. „And what is your reason then, my love?“ With that he stands up and tilts his head a little bit ears twitching probably in annoyance.

You speak rather unsure. „My life. My human life outside this world. My family and friends. My school and my town and my goals for the future. I am not a cat, my king... I don’t want to be a cat...“

San‘s orbs turn into such a dark color you flinch naturally when he grimaces at your words and holds his hand up. You close your eyes anticipating the slap that might follow after your brave words but you feel goosebumps forming on your skin when instead your face is met with the tip of warm fingers.

You hear a little chuckle leaving him and open your eyes to see the king smirking at you heartily with his fangs showing which earns him a frown of you. „You will adjust. I and all people of this kingdom will help you to.“

With the feeling of failure evident on your face and how you move away from his touch the tears are immediately streaming again. „You don’t want to understand me, right?“

While San is busy holding himself back to do something he would regret you keep on stepping backwards until you meet the wall. He‘s so close now you can feel his breath on your lips and the temperature in the room seems to rise rapidly at his close proximity. Your gaze slides over the sharp features of his rather beautiful face when he presses his opened palm hard against the surface of the wall next to your head.

„My king...“ Your voice trembles so much you’re afraid you might faint any second.

„San. My name is San. Let me get something clear, (y/n). You are mine now - my soon to be wife and queen. I fell in love with you at first sight and as I said, a cat only falls in love one time in their lives. Do you think I would let you go? Never. Will I destroy everyone who tries to take you away from me? Yes.“

You’re stunned at his tone and gulp trying to process everything he just said. „He’s alive, right?“

San smiles at you. „He is. You don’t know that your little stunt literally helped me a lot to finally take this scum and give him what he deserves. But that shouldn’t interest you any further.“

Something in yourself suddenly lightens up understanding that he doesn’t only seem to be merciless but is much worse in reality. „You’re a monster, San - and I hate you.“

An impressive look adorns his features at your response and he scoffs. „Only to the ones who try to take you away from me.“

„Little possessive there, don’t you think?“ You counter.

„Oh, you don’t want to test me even more darling.“

You shake your head lost in your thoughts. „I won’t submit to you.“

He leans back and eyes you from the bottom to the top. „We will see.“ San responses and turns around and indicates for you to follow him which you do - promising yourself only because there’s probably going to be dinner and you are way to exhausted after this day to argue with him any longer.

You’re still thinking of the boy... god, how sorry you are for everything you caused. You should try to help him no matter what. Luckily San let you sleep in your own chambers this night - if it was an act of sympathy you didn’t even want to know. More intriguing was the fact that after the incident he acted like nothing happened at all and also the whole castle treated you like the queen you would soon be.

The next morning the maids enter your chambers again with the prettiest smiles on their faces preparing you for the day. You’re fitted into a loose but elegant old white dress after they got your hair and make up ready.

The look in the mirror is promising and you still have to get used to the ears on your head. Joy pleads with you to wait in the chambers until someone comes to pick you up but you’re quick to take your leave and run so fast they lose you because of the various turns and hallways the castle provides.

You’re laughing and breathing out when you check if you actually lost them and decide to roam around on your own. Some guards greet you don’t knowing about the fact you’re not supposed to walk around on your own right now. Only when you enter a big foyer and descend a huge staircase you hold in to listen to a voice you once heard before.

„Prince Jong Ho!“ You try to find the source of the voice quickly and shriek back when you open a slight closed door seeing the bare back of the prince.

„Woah!“ The prince shields himself with the fabric he just wanted to put on when he hears your scream. „(y/n)?“ A smile grows on his young features and he looks around the corner to find you holding your hands in front of your eyes.

„I am sorry.“

„Oh, don’t be! I will be with you in a minute!“ You wait in front of his chambers when he comes out dressed pretty a moment later and engulfs you into his arms. Surprisingly you hug him back equally feeling like the prince was much nicer and trustworthy than his older brother.

„Oh, but what brings you to me? I thought you would be eating breakfast with my brother. Or did you get lost again?“ He winks at you not meaning any harm but his statement just made you realize he might not be a big help...

You stand awkwardly in front of him and fidget with the hem of your dress before you decide to reach out. „Please, prince Jong Ho. You have to help me to get out of here! Your brother is - “

„Oh no, (y/n)... San already told me about yesterday and he said this might would happen because you’re still a little bit confused and nervous because of the wedding. I promise you I will be there for you and love you like a sister! You don’t have to be afraid of anything!“ He cheers up to lighten the mood but it only comes to your deaf ears understanding you won’t be able to convince the young but naive prince.

With careful steps you put some space between the two of you leading to a frown on Jong Ho‘s face. When he tries to reach out you put up your hands in defence perplexing the prince.

„Please, talk to me (y/n). You don’t seem to feel really good right now maybe I should bring you to San and - “

„No!“ With a strong push Jong Ho trembles back and the moment you turn around to run you collide with a firm chest and immediately feel a tail engaging your waist to hold you firm.

„Jong Ho, I am sorry but (y/n) seems to be a bit disoriented this morning... I will take her with me.“ With a huge smile on his face he takes you with him away from his brother who waves at the two of you relieved.

You groan out annoyed which earns yourself a giggle from the cat king. „Your ears look pretty this morning.“

Scoffing you whistle out. „Is this how you are flirting in cat style?“

„Maybe.“ His tail strengthens it‘s hold on you and you can feel a slight tingling sensation in your stomach because of this.

San doesn’t bring the incident up again and prepared a breakfast in the big garden on the green grass for you. The sight is really pretty to take in and you wonder how bipolar his actions come off...

After finishing you’re closing your eyes enjoying the sun on your skin and freeze when the king leans into your comfort zone to place a chaste kiss on your exposed collarbone.

„You smell amazing... also take a last look on the garden and the town. You aren’t allowed to leave the castle until our wedding.“

A bubble of anger ignites inside you and you turn to him not stopping your hand that reaches out to place a firm slap on his cheek. San‘s face moved in the process and he huffs out tasting blood because of his fangs colliding with his bottom lip.

„You little mischievous kitten.“

Rage is written on your face but instead of getting the impact San faces straight ahead and sighs in content. „You won’t get anywhere with this. I like your feisty side.“

You slump back and groan out crossing your arms in the process. „You’re so annoying San!“

„And you’re finally calling me San. We’re getting here anywhere I see.“ He smiles triumphally at you from the side whereas you won’t worth a look at him.

The day went by pretty unspectacular with San leaving you after the breakfast tending to kingdom duties and you being captured in the castle followed by gazes of the guards - whose number increased noticeable after San‘s threat.

How should you get out of here? And how was the boy doing?

The next day - again without having to sleep with the king - you find yourself in the kitchen seeing servants pacing around like ants preparing many delicacies.

„What is going on her if I might ask?“

A young man greats you immediately with a bow coming to your side to guide you around. „This is all for your wedding, Miss.“

„But isn’t the wedding only in a few days?“

The man chuckles and leans down to whisper in your ear. „King San wants to test everything before to make sure what meals we‘re going to present on the actual event.“

You roll with your eyes and cross your arms. „Isn’t this a little bit too much.“ You mutter out and look at the servant questioningly.

„Oh, our king is a perfectionist!“

„Mh, if you say so... I am just sorry you have to work so hard... what is your name by the way?“

„It’s nothing! We love to put a smile on his and your face! My name is Jeong Yun Ho, Miss.“ His tail wiggles excitedly at your interest in his person and you can‘t suppress the smile at his behavior. „Nice to meet you, Yun Ho.“

You look around before you lean down into his side a little bit more making him confused. „If I might ask you, Yun Ho... Do you know how the captured boy in the dungeon is doing?“

Yun Ho looks frantically around being clearly irritated on how to answer. „Yes, but unfortunately I don’t think that I am allowed to tell you.“

Welp, was everyone in this godforsaken kingdom in love with San?

„Oh, I mean, I am going to be your future queen, right? I want nothing to stand between me and our diligent and hard working people...“

„Mh, okay... You’re right! I trust you, Miss. As our future queen I want to fulfill every wish of yours!“ You smile to yourself and listen intently. „So he’s doing alright I guess. He got what he deserved for what he did to you but... it’s still sad.“

„Why? Who is he?“

„Kang Yeo Sang once was a great advisor of King San and they were good friends, too. It ended bitterly when he betrayed the king and us by wanting to turn into a human to live in the human world.“

What the hell?

„How did he do that? What was his plan?“

Yun Ho looks around again and lowers his voice in advance. „I am afraid I am not really sure. Rumors say he fell in love with a human girl and went to seek help of someone called the ‚mask seller‘ but no ones even sure if someone like this exists and how he could help him with turning into a human...“

„Do you know someone who knows more about this?“

He thinks and shrugs. „I don’t know. I would probably ask the traitor himself if I wanted to know but, Miss, why do you want to know all of this?“ A huge smile adorns your face and you chuckle. „Just get other thoughts because I am so nervous because of the wedding.“

Yun Ho nods and excuses himself to continue with his work leaving you finally with a goal ahead.

You have to talk to Kang Yeo Sang.

Another day went by with you only seeing the king at meals. You wouldn’t bring up the subject of him wanting you to sleep in his chambers. Because - you were very thankful he seemed to forget about it.

You layed down in your bed between the silk cushions and played with your tail. You were able to control it better now after the first moments of it swinging around tickling others or stepping on it and falling down.

Oh gosh four guards saw this and you bet it took everything in them to not laugh...

How long have you been even here now? It wasn’t like you didn’t do anything intelligent all day, no. You visited the big library of the castle and read about the kingdom and the history of cats. You also tried to get to know the servants of the castle more and have some conversation. And of course you already found the location of the dungeon but much to your dismay it was guarded by two guards nonstop.

There had to be a way to lure them away but how...

When you try to yawn just a deep meow escapes which makes you laugh out afterwards but also remembers you that all of this isn’t funny at all... You might look like a cat but you’re still a human at heart. That’s why tomorrow you should find a way to get to Yeo Sang and talk with him about the mask seller.

If this mysterious person had something to do with turning people into humans maybe he could help you, too?

You fall asleep soon after and your thoughts vanish into an inappropriate dream.

„San I - I this feel so good!“ San‘s tail is tangled around your waist and you can feel his juices mixing with yours inside your throbbing walls. He feels huge and is filling you to a point where you see stars. His rhythm increases it‘s pace when you embrace his waist with your arms to push him further into your body.

A smirk plays on his lips and he decides to fully taste the moan that just wanted to escape you with a deep and longing kiss. He grunts and moans out at the feeling of your skin on his.

„You needy little - “

You wake up with sweat on your body and quick breaths.

„Did this just really happen... oh god no! I am not fantasizing about him. This is so wrong I don’t like him I like - “

There was a boy you liked. What was his name again?

You munched on your cereal for half an hour when San poked you with the tip of his tail to get your attention. He tilted his head and smiled. „What are you thinking about?“

The sex scene comes back into your mind but you quickly try to shove it away when you can feel your cheeks heating up at the thought. Getting back to your original concern... you forgot about someone. Someone who was really important to you.

„It’s nothing.“ You sadly look down again while San supports the weigh of his head with his hand and arm placed on the table. His gaze is still trained on you interested in what you are hiding from him.

He pokes you again making you groan out and you lean back into your chair to frown at him. He won’t let you out of this... „The longer I am here the more I feel like forgetting about my world... and the persons in it.“

„Mh, this is your world now. My concierge told me about the boy you met before they took you home.“

„The boy before you took me here.. Woo Young! That’s his name!“ Surprised at remembering him again you stand up and smile happily. Much to the dismay of the cat king. He rolls with his eyes and indicates for you to sit down again.

„You cannot see him again. He wouldn’t recognize you anyway.“

„Why are you saying this! Why wouldn’t he recognize me?“ San chuckles and pops a grape into his mouth one of his black cat ears twitching because of your high pitched voice.

„You’re a cat now. Did you already forget?“

Tears are threatening to form when you look away to keep out of San‘s eyesight.

„My beautiful (y/n), please don’t be sad. I didn’t want to make you unhappy this morning... but it cannot be helped. Most of the humans don’t like us. They treat us like we’re dumb and my fellow sorrowful friends being encaged in their small homes are... well, let’s not talk any further about it. Today is a good day! You’re having the fitting for your wedding dress.“

You shrug him off and stand up to leave the dining room for your chambers feeling like it doesn’t matter what you say San would always win an argument.

Indeed later on the maids found you in the play room to take you with them to a part of the castle you haven’t been before. Ye Ri was on your left sight and entangled your arms to whisper into your ear. „We’ve chosen a room with a huge distance to the king‘s working place. Knowing him he would try to take a look at his beautiful queen.“ She and the other maids giggle at this and you put on a fake smile not wanting to crash their spirit.

A man and a woman were already prepared to show you their dresses while a small siamese cat waited patiently on an armchair. One after one you’re getting into dresses being not happy with little details. The maids on the other hand are teary and complimenting you nonstop saying after every dress ‚this is the one!‘. Only after two hours you get into the 54th dress that knocks the breath out of your lungs.

„Beautiful...“

„Is this the one, Miss?“ You turn around to look at the maids that watch you knowingly and after a carful nod they scream and open a bottle of champagne.

The siamese cat is the designer of the dress and with a little puff it suddenly transforms into a person. A beautiful woman is standing in front of you bowing to you. „Thank you for taking one of my creations, Miss.“

„Oh, you’re welcome! I love it.“ You swing around a little bit giggling when your tail swings happily, too.

After a few hours you ask one of the guards where the king is and if he is busy. „I am sorry, Miss. King Choi is currently out of the castle in another town but he will be back in an hour. Should I tell him about your need to see him when he’s back?“

„Oh no, please! I will see him this evening at dinner anyways. Thank you for your help though.“

This was your chance. Making your way to the door that leads to the dungeon you hide behind a corner and see the two guards patrolling around. Your plan? Probably not the best but earlier you decided to sneak some matches out of the library where a fireplace is located.

You have to set up the fire somewhere they can see it quickly so maybe just the curtains of the one of the big windows in the hallway? Well, better than nothing. After a few attempts you manage to lighten the curtains taking a step back at how fast the fabric starts to burn.

Smoke is developing and you quickly hide back to wait for the guards to recognize the fire. Only a few minutes after nearly all the curtains are in flames and the guards run up to yell for help. They’re already shielding their eyes and are coughing out the smoke that enters their lungs.

As fast as you can you run and hope they didn’t see you while they try to bring down the curtains and put the fire out with their feet. You open the door and run down a dark corridor until you are met with a staircase that leads to nothing but blackness.

You don’t know how much time you would have so you practically rush and hope there are no other guards down here. The dungeons are cold and wet and you can hear some whimpers and meows from cats that are here for who knows how long.

With a small voice you try to find the one you’re looking for. „Yeo Sang? Kang Yeo Sang?“ After a few more attempts there’s a jingle and a hiss and you decided to go into the direction it came from.

„Yeo Sang?“

„Could you please shut your mouth I am trying to sleep here.“

You rush to the grid and your fingers enclose around the cold material breathing hard in excitement.

Yeo Sang carefully stands up from his poorly made bed and nears the door to see you standing there. „You!“

„Yes, it’s me... and before you say anything I am so sorry you’re in here. It’s my fault but please believe me I will try everything to get you out of here!“ You speak in desperation and Yeo Sang‘s frown slowly vanishs of his face.

„It’s not your fault... sooner or later he would have found a reason to imprison me.“

„I already know about your story with the king... I am sorry this happened to you.“

„You know about it? Well, I mean I believe everyone knows about it by now.“ Hurt takes over his features and you give him an apologetic look.

„Listen Yeo Sang, you have to tell me everything about this mask seller so we can get out of the kingdom and - “

„No! Don’t even dare to get into contact with him!“

„But why? I mean he could help us to turn into humans and we could flee.“

„This cat is a bad person, believe me. He won’t help us without wanting something in return.“

„But why? What could he want?“

Yeo Sang sighs troubled at your interest but what else chance would he get? If you wanted to test your luck...

„For me it was a hard decision to make. I had to give him my cat life.“

„But you’re still a cat, right?“

„Yes. Because just like you I was stopped before leaving the kingdom which didn’t fulfill our contract so I stayed as a cat.“

„If we find him he could make another contract, right?“

„I guess. The problem is I didn’t see him for over three years. It’s just like he vanished out of this world to lure humans into his trap. You know why so many people are afraid of him? Because once you make a contact with him there’s no turning back. He will take your human or cat soul and eat it up to stay young.“

„That sounds terrible... but for me I want to have my human body back. I wouldn’t regret it all. I wasn’t born as a cat neither identify as one. I just want to go home and - “

„Be with the ones you love...“ Yeo Sang ends your sentence feeling the equal desperation.

„Yeo Sang, there has to be a reason the mask seller came to you. Do you remember something you did or anything else?“

„I was desperate and crying in the garden when no one was around... he just appeared in front of me.“

„I have to get out of the castle... I don’t know how to find him but I am sure he won’t come if am trappend inside.“

„I’ve heard that you’re not allowed to go out anymore.“

„You know the king, right? Maybe an idea how I could convince him?“ The young boy laughs out and thinks deeply before answering. „San is very intelligent and manipulative. He likes the things to go his way so you will probably have no chance in tricking him.“

„That doesn’t help me at all...“

„Listen, if I would know how to charm this fucker I wouldn’t be in the dungeons right now. But with you... he was my friend but you will be his future queen. Maybe use your female charm?“

You raise one of your eyebrows at his suggestion and groan. Suddenly there’s noise to which you and and the cat flinch.

„You have to go! Hide until the guard passed you and - “

„I will do everything to get you out of here as soon as possible!“ With a quick nod he ushers you away and indeed you manage to get out of the dungeon unrecognized.

Back in your chambers you close the door and shriek when you can see San leaning against the wall looking outside. „Where have you been my love?“

With a shaky voice and controlled steps you reach the king. „I have been in the library.“

His gaze drifts to your form and he sees your tail swaying uncontrolled back and forth. „Sure. I am just happy to see you’re unharmed. There has been a fire, y‘know.“ He folds his arms in front of his chest and squints his eyes at you.

„I - I didn’t know.“

San makes a move to rub some dust off your chin and you facepalm yourself in your thoughts. „Should we eat dinner?“

You’re more than convinced he knows everything so him pretending not to confuses you really.

Remembering your goal you have to work on it immediately so after some seconds you decided to make the first move. You take a step forward until you’re directly standing in front of him. Catching his gaze with your own you place your palms flat against his chest to which the kings takes a sharp breath. „Can’t we go eat outside? Like in the town?“

„In the town? Did you forget about your house arrest?“

„No but... I feel like going crazy inside here. You said humans are bad for imprison their cats and technically you’re doing the same to me.“ At this San stars to smirk his fangs showing.

„You’re pretty intelligent. Always showing me I made the right decision. Well, then let’s go.“ He takes your hand with excitement but stops in his tracks immediately after.

„Oh, you should wash your face before we go my love. I will wait outside for you.“

Your heartbeat seems to stop when the words escape his mouth so casually. „I will. Thank you for reminding me.“

After eating in one of the probably much more expansive restaurants of the town you were able to recognize everything a little bit more and also discovered something that could be interesting. On the way home you play with your thoughts and come to the conclusion: the mask seller, that guy a sells things. Wouldn’t there be a possability to find him on the market? Probably not but the idea was so silly it was worth a try because like you and Yeo Sang already emphasized - your chances were low.

Back in the castle you do something that you would probably regret later on. In the dim light of one of the living rooms you decide to watch a movie with the cat king and cuddle yourself into his sight. You’re getting sleepy with any minute and freeze up when a purr leaves your body after San starts to stroke your hair and ears.

„Oh my god. That’s feels... unusual?“ San laughs out and pecks your cheek to which you purr again.

„Stop! I am already purring like a cat oh no!“

„Your purring is like music to my ears.“

With his tail he pushes you back into his arms and until midnight you turn into a purring mess. You don’t feel like stopping him at all because something inside of you yearns for touches and strokes.

„Should we go to bed, (y/n)?“

„Mhh...“ With half opened eyes San makes a move to lift you up and makes his way to his chambers to lay you softly into the cheets. You fall asleep immediately and don’t notice the king getting ready for bed, too, to join you.

How many days since you were brought here?

You slurp on the tea a maid prepared for you and watch the town in the distance. It was a nice day and the castle was in full action to prepare for the wedding. You push yourself from the ground and enter the big hall where your wedding seems to soon take place.

Many servants and people greet you and you stop in your tracks when you can see Hong Joong who is busying with telling others what to do.

„Miss? I didn’t see you for so long! Are you excited? Do you like the decorations?“ His face lights up immediately and you send him a reassuring smile to all his questions.

He‘s San‘s concierge so maybe he could help you to get out of the castle today? „Ehm, Mr. Kim. Do you know where I can find the king right now? I want to talk with him about something...“

„Mh, of course! Follow me.“ Turning hallways and passing by chambers the concierge doesn’t stop talking about many things.

„I mean he’s busy right now but he already told me that there’s always time for you! How a good husband and father he will make... always time for his family as well.“ You suppress the need to roll with your eyes when Hong Joong stops in front of a door and knocks two times.

San stands up instantly to reach you and hug you to him. „What brings you here? Do you need anything?“

„No, I mean. I wanted to ask you something.“ You smile up at him sickeningly sweet and start to caress his face with your fingers to which the king straightens up and tries to control himself.

„Anything for you.“

„I want to go to the market today.“ Immediately his face falls and you are quick to continue with your words. „I saw some shops when we were eating out and I... I wanted to prepare something.“

„Prepare what?“

„Something for you. It is a surprise don’t ask so much!“

„You don’t have to go to the market on your own just write down what you need and I will get someone to buy it for you.“ He challenges you with a tilt of his head and you could slap this fucking smile out of his face in this moment. He’s always so smart.

Come up with something.

You look sadly to the ground and your arms fall to your side. „I knew you wouldn’t say yes. I don’t think anyone should buy something like this for me. It is just too embarrassing.“

Hong Joong, who pretends to not listen to your conversation, awkwardly caughs and starts to whistle.

San frowns and suddenly opens his eyes wide at the thoughts that are running in his mind. „Oh, I mean, if you mean that... and you found something you really want... it will be an exception! And Hong Joong is coming with you!“

You fall into his arms and place a chaste kiss on his lips surprising the two of you. With a last glance San winks at you and let’s you go to get to the market - a bewildered Hong Joong quick in your steps.

Hong Joong really likes to make conversation so you don’t stop him when he gets into his own world talking about the things he likes and is interested in. Maybe like this it would be easier to find what you’re searching for.

„Oh, look! There’s a shop for artists! Oh and there!“

„You can go to the store if you want. Here’s the lingerie shop.“ You smile at him but the concierge frowns and debates with himself. He shouldn’t leave you alone any second but the shops were literally located across from eachother.

„Thirty minutes and we meet here again?“ You shake his hand and say ‚deal‘ watching the enthusiastic cat rushing over the street. You wait until he’s inside the shop to run down the street and get more to the place where merchants would be. It was a whole chaos and too many people to even get a good look on all the sales booths.

You wander around trying to take a glimpse on everything they sell on the street and after fifteen minutes you plump down on a bench sighing exaggerated.

„I guess this was a dumb idea.“

Air is whistling through the flowers and lamps when you feel a shudder down your spine looking down into your lap to examine your fingers.

„The cat life suits you very well...“ You look up immediately feeling like time stopped when you see a the fabric of a hanbok and round eyes examining your body.

„Who are you?“

The man takes a step to your form and takes something from behind his back to show you. Your eyes widen and your hand immediately shoots out to reach for what the man holds in front of you but he’s quick to make it disappear and smiles at you mischievously.

You’re upset and stand up to point at the man. „You’re the mask seller! Oh my god I found you!“

He raises one of his eyebrows and licks his lips in excitement. „I also know a lot about you, dear (y/n). Oh, I mean... in a few days I have to call you my queen.“

You grit your teeth at his words. „If you’re here you know that this is not gonna happen. You want a soul, right mask seller? You can have Kang Yeo Sang‘s and my cat soul!“

He laughs out loud and waves with his hands in front of him to stop your excitement. „Wait a second there. Yeo Sang is kept in the dungeons and the king won’t let you get near the portal again. What makes you think I would make a contract with you?“

„I - can’t you help us to flee? I promise our souls will be yours!“

He shrugs with his shoulders and stars to circle your form his tail caressing your body in the process. His actions make you shudder and you suddenly feel very small in front of the man.

„I mean I can help you but the king is also my king. Why do you want to be human again? Isn’t it much more fun to have a tail and ears like us?“

You have problems to find the right words but look up confidently to Seong Hwa. „I have people I love and I want to get back to them. This isn’t my home and I didn’t have a say in anything that happens to me here, so... yes. I definitely don’t want to stay here as a cat.“

He tilts his head in interest. „If you think so.“ Suddenly like magic a paper appears in his hand and he makes a move with his index so it is flying in the air next to him. While you watch in awe he pulls out something like an ink cushion and looks at you promising.

„You have to sign as a cat with your paw.“

„Oh, I didn’t turn into a fully cat yet... I mean I don’t know how to.“

He smiles at you and gives you a little push so that you make a little roll. The ground moves closer in an instant and suddenly you look up to a much larger Seong Hwa now. You feel the wind caressing your fur and you scrunch your nose in awe letting out a little meow.

„That was easier than I thought.“

„Well, it’s the easiest way. Here.“ You push your little paw into the ink he holds down for you and place your imprint on the contract.

„Well done, little (y/n).“

„Wait, what about Yeo Sang and when will you get us out of here?“

„Yeo Sang already made a contract and about your escape... we will have to wait until the marriage day when there’s a lot of hustle and bustle in the kingdom.“

„Can you be more accurate?“

„Meet me here after the marriage ceremony when the party is in full swing. I will get Yeo Sang and then you can get out of the kingdom of cats.“

„Alright. I hope your plan is going to work out!“

„I promise you I will get you to the portal without someone stopping you and Yeo Sang will be there with you. Oh, you should get going now... I think the concierge noticed your absence.“

„Oh shit. Then I will see you soon and - thank you for helping us.“ He grins at you and waves goodbye.

„I almost forgot! Once you signed the contract and get back to the human world there’s no turning back! Also vice versa when with a human soul...”

In the distance you don’t hear him shouting his last words anymore but if it was on purpose only the mask seller knows.

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#ateez writing #ateez au #ateez yandere #ateez fanfiction #ateez fiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #choi san x reader #ateez san fic #ateez yandere au #ateez fantasy

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secret-rendezvous1d · 3 years

Note

I just have this idea in my head of Spencer realizing he likes you but isn’t sure if you like him. So he’s not being too forward but definitely is flirting with you but you 100% aren’t picking up on it (maybe because you guys are close anyways) so he gets tired and a little sad about flirting and not really getting anywhere so he shows up at your doorstep looking soft as hell and is like “do you not realize that I’m in love with you?” or something like that

He’s tried.

He’s really tried.

But how can he go any further with doing his best when he’s worn out all of his options and gotten no where closer to calling her his own? How can he carry on when he hits a dead end every time he tries to get somewhere further with her? How can he find enjoyment in a chase where he’s the only one running?

He sits across from her on the jet but he can’t seem to find a reason to talk to her. All she’s done is ignore his best attempts at flirting with her, laughing them off as jokes, ignoring them because they failed to make her see how he felt and failed to make her see that she felt the same way. He was far from his comfort zone. He had never flirted with a woman before, let alone asked a woman out on a date or asked one to be his girlfriend, so he was far from in his depth on knowing what he should do, knowing how good he was and knowing just how to woo someone off their feet.

He can’t go home when he had unfinished business to tend to.

He tried to walk through the front door of his apartment building but he can’t - how could he sleep when he was so overwhelmed in his feelings that nothing else clouded his mind? When all he could think about was her? When the cogs in his head wouldn’t turn off because he needed her?

She’s stunned when she hears a knock at her door, midway through cooking a microwave meal for her dinner because it was quick and easy and she’d really been craving macaroni and cheese since the moment she stepped foot on the jet for the ride back home, and she catches a look at the clock on her kitchen wall to check the time. One-thirty in the morning.

“Spencer-”

“Do you not like me?”

There’s no hello, there’s no sweet greeting, no hug that acts as his hello when she opens the door to him. There isn’t an inch of a smile on his face, his eyes bore into her face with such a heat behind the golden-brown that she could feel holes burning into her cheeks, and he looked so upset. A hint of anger showing from his clenched jawline and with the way he was picking at his nails; a tic of his that came when he was trying to conceal an emotion he didn’t want to show in front of anyone.

“What?”

There’s confusion written all over her face; she’d been at the BAU for over five and a half months now and she had no reason to believe she was anything but friendly to him over the course of her starting there. Heck, she thought she was being a little overbearing with the bond she had with him and she thought she couldn’t be any nicer towards him whenever she had the chance.

It had her thinking; she did say something to him before they climbed aboard the jet which he may have taken offence and upset to... something about how he could have bored any woman to sleep with the facts he had to share... but she never meant for him to get hurt by her comment... that was the last thing she wanted when she performed a little banter with him.

“If it’s what I said on the jet then I’m sorry,” she says softly and even though she didn’t invite him in, he couldn’t stop his feet from entering her premises through the open door, “Spencer, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s not that,” he interrupts with a brash tone to his voice, turning on his heels as she closes the door behind him and lets it close with a click. He hears her take a deep breath, a little shaky and filled with nerves, before looking at him with worried eyes, “that didn’t hurt me as much as how you’ve been making me feel these last few days, YN.”

If she hadn’t wanted to cry before, she wanted to cry then.

She really stood there with nothing running through her mind. She couldn’t even think about anything else because upsetting hm and making him feel hurt was an intention she never had and it was something she never wanted him to feel because of her. Her eyes stung with the build up of tears that threatened to spill and her knees turn into jelly.

“Spencer, I-”

“No, you don’t get to speak right now,” and the first tear slid down her cheek that she instantly wiped away with the back of her hand. She expected him to soften and to apologise for upsetting her, expecting him to relax his shoulders so he didn’t look so intimidating before her because it wasn’t something she liked on him, “you’ve hurt me.”

“I don’t know how,” she croaks, her eyes looking down at the socks on her feet. The beeping of the microwave signifies her dinner was cooked but she didn’t want to bother with that right now; she couldn’t eat anything until this had come to a conclusion that the both of them were happy with. Whatever this was. “Just tell me, please? Tell me-”

“Do you not realise that I like you? That I love you? I’m in love with you, YN. I’ve been trying my best to flirt with you these last few days, to make you see that I like you, to try and see if you felt the same way but you laughed at my attempts and you pushed them to the side and that hurt,” he states, his leather bag fell from his shoulder and dropped the floor as it slipped off his arm and hit the floor with a thud. His eyes were glassy but there was still a darkness behind them that made her see he wasn’t quite finished shovelling the weight from pushing on his shoulders. “That hurt, YN. It really hurt me. I tried my hardest, I went out of my comfort zone, and you laughed at me.”

“Spencer-”

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on his fringe and staring at anything he could find that caught his interest because he really couldn’t look at her just yet.

“Spencer, I never meant to hurt you. In all honesty, I didn’t think you liked me in the way,” she speaks so delicately and so softly and there’s hurt in her voice and part of him breaks at the sight of the streaks rolling down her cheeks and his heart yearns to comfort her but the other side wants to be angrier with her; she shouldn’t feel hurt because she hurt him. “I didn’t think I was the right girl for you. That you even thought of me in that way. We have such a good bond as friends-”

“I don’t want to be just friends,” he hisses, his feet leading him towards her and he takes a hold of her hands in his and forces her to look at him, “I want you to be mine. I want you to be mine, YN. Mine. As in my girlfriend. You’ve made me feel surprised with myself because you’ve made me feel things I’ve never felt before. Good things. Great things,” he claims, his thumbs running in soft lines as he strokes her knuckles with the course pads, “you made me realise I can have a girlfriend, too, after years of believing there wasn’t anyone out there for me.”

That’s why it hurt the most for him.

He had spent years growing up surrounded by people getting into relationships and that’s all he wanted in life. To find someone who made him laugh, smile, cry and filled his stomach with butterflies everytime he looked at them. When his friends found girlfriends and boyfriends and when his colleagues invited him to their weddings or house parties where they could bring a plus one, he felt so out of place... his loved ones telling him that he was going to find his soulmate soon but his mind telling him that no one would love him because he was just Spencer. Someone who read books for a hobby and had no social life that was spent living a life he should be living at his age.

“Spence-”

“Please,” he whispers, “please, YN, prove them wrong.”

“Prove who wrong?”

“Everyone who told me I wasn’t worthy enough of ever finding someone to love,” and every inch of anger, that she had seen upon his arrival, had almost dissipated into the air. The hurt that he felt was no longer masked by the feign of anger he used to cover up his true emotions because showing defeat was worse. “I’m worthy enough.”

And, god, YN felt awful for laughing at his attempts of flirting. She had assumed they were jokes because she had never seen nor heard of any proof of Spencer ever flirting with someone he felt attracted to; she hadn’t ever heard of stories from their friends about Spencer ever falling for a girl so she was left in the dark on his way of showing his affection.

When she looked back, she could see how hard he tried.

“Spence,” she hums, freeing her hands from his hold so she could hold his face in her palms and wipe the rogue tears that escaped his eyes, “Spence, you’re worthy enough for everything in the world.”

“Then why-”

She interrupts him with a kiss that was soft and a little timid. She didn’t expect him to kiss her back but he did and she encourages herself to kiss him a little deeper, her palms still cupping his cheeks and his hands sliding down from her waist to her hips, an eagerness to his mouth as he pulls her closer and tries to deepen the feelings.

“I love you, you dummy,” she whispers against his lips, smiles on both ends as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her tightly to his chest, “I love you.” xx

#spencer reid chats #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #matthew gray gubler imagines

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enviedear · 4 years

Text

dreams → draco malfoy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which draco tries to make amends with his old bestfriend he pushed away. the girl who saw the best in him, and still might.

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.6k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you knew what was to come before it actually came. you could tell from the way he acted. instead of confiding in you, he would ignore you. instead of listening to you, he would find an excuse to leave the conversation.

your best friend was not your best friend anymore. but you were a hopeful third year then, and the thought of a diminishing friendship seemed ridiculous.

it was a horribly cold day when it all happened. you were sat near the frozen black lake, watching snowfall when you had heard the familiar call of your name.

when you turned around you had seen your best friend, draco.

“i’ve missed you! come sit beside me and catch up,” you exclaimed.

“i can’t do that, y/n.” he had said, simply.

you still remember the way you looked at him. your eyes were full of innocent confusion.

“draco what are you talking about? are you scared of getting your ass wet from the snow?” you had teased.

“no. i just can’t be around you anymore.” his eyes were colder than the air around you.

you didn’t say anything, just continued looking at him. none of it had felt real. sure draco wasn’t the nicest boy in your year, but he was your best friend. this all had to be some joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.

“i can’t hang about some ditzy hufflepuff. if i want to keep my friends i can’t be seen with you. and if i want to date pansy i can’t have some lovestruck girl around me all the time, can i?” he had hissed.

lovestruck? no. not at the time, in third year you only wanted a friend.

“oh. okay, i’m sorry for bothering you then.” you had mumbled.

and that was that. nothing else was said between the two of you. you had quickly abandoned the notion of watching the snowfall, and instead, slipped into your empty dorm room.

you had made your way to your bed, closed the curtains, and laid there for hours. the thoughts in your head keeping you awake. you’d missed dinner, and your dorm mates had brought you some without a word. that night, it rained. it was a terrible thunderstorm.

but the thunder seemed to match your pain, and it comforted you a little. and after that night, you started enjoying every thunderstorm.

you were now in your sixth year, and many things had changed. mainly, your feelings toward a certain blonde slytherin.

“if i were parkinson i’d feel so embarrassed for myself.” your best friend, ruth giggles.

the two of you were at dinner, and ruth had a perfect view of draco and pansy.

“why? what’s happening?” you ask.

“well, she’s trying to hold his hand but he’s much too focused on his turkey leg to take notice of her. poor girl, you’d think she’d figure out the bloke doesn’t like her.” ruth sighs.

you roll your eyes, “pansy would put up with anything for malfoy. she’s so dependent.”

it was a horribly rude thing to say of course, but it was true. you were sure everyone knew that parkinson would do anything to get into a relationship with malfoy.

“well, i’m all done. want to head to the library with me before it closes?” ruth asks.

you nod your head and grab your bag.

the walk to the library after dinner had become part of your daily routine, and if it weren’t for ruth you know you’d probably forget to study most days.

the two of you find a table to sit at, and take out your books. it’s only november, so the workload isn’t too heinous yet. you choose to review your potions notes and begin to study ahead for the upcoming lesson.

you’re in the middle of reading a section about the elixir of euphoria when ruth tells you she’s going to head to bed.

“okay, goodnight. i’m going to finish this and then i’ll be down there.” you smile at her.

she bids you goodnight, and then you’re left alone. by the time you finish, it’s well past bedtime. but lucky enough, you’re a prefect. the fact always comes in handy for you.

you pack away your books and begin heading for the hufflepuff common room. you’re just outside the library when you see someone pass by the adjoining corridor.

the dim light makes it impossible for you to determine who it is, so you follow after them.

“excuse me! no one is to be out of bed right now. i’m going to have to give you detention..” you trail off, making eye contact with the familiar grey eyes of your childhood.

“y/l/n.” he says, almost surprised.

you don’t say anything, you simply pull out a detention slip and hand it to him.

“get to your common room, malfoy.” you mutter, turning around.

“are you still mad at me?” you hear him ask, his tone light and careful.

“whatever are you talking about?” you glare, turning to face him once more.

“you know what i’m talking about, y/l/n. i think you’re giving me this bloody detention because you’re still upset i didn’t want to be your friend in third year.” he spits.

you feel your ears grow hot before you reply, “we’re not kids anymore. i’ve moved on and so should you. leave me alone, malfoy.” and with that, you leave the boy standing alone.

the next day is much the same as usual. you start the day with charms, struggle your way through advanced transfiguration, and go to herbology. after lunch, it’s time for your free period.

most days, ruth accompanies you outside near the black lake to sit and relax. with everything going on in the world these past few years, you’re glad to have a friend you can confide in. today, however, she’s stuck retaking a charms test. so you’re all alone this evening.

the cold november air casts goosebumps on your skin, but you’re too focused on your thoughts to care. all day, you’ve found yourself reliving last night with draco. you’ve played the situation out so many times you’re convinced that at this point, you’ve come up with every single way the conversation could have gone.

maybe you could have be nicer to him? maybe you shouldn’t have spoken at all? maybe you should have put him in his place more?

all of these thoughts bombard you, and make you feel just like you did back in third year. weak, confused, and hurt. you didn’t even know why you were thinking of draco so much in the first place.

well, maybe you did know. even though you weren’t friends anymore, you still looked out for him. there were plenty of times people would speak badly of him for things he couldn’t change, and you’d be quick to defend him.

you also always listened in to any conversation where his name was brought up. at this point, you were sure it was instinct.

you didn’t like draco anymore, but you still loved him. granted, not the way you loved him as a child. no, now you have a love for him that rivals any love poem, song, or illustration.

and you hate it. you don’t know why you love him, and it doesn’t stop you from loathing the person he is now. though, you’ve often let your mind slip into a different scenario. one where draco never stops being your friend. he doesn’t care for what others have to say. and after school the two of you fall in love and live in a cottage in italy.

but the only cottage you can possibly see in your near future is hagrids’. so you always stop the thought before you can become too invested. all your wishes for a different life with draco can never come to fruition anyway.

you check your watch and see it’s time to head inside for dinner. you’ve almost reached the greenhouses before you’re violently pulled backward, causing you to fall straight on your ass.

you look up and are greeted with the very face you told to leave you alone.

“great, it’s you. have you come to hex me for your little detention?” you remark, getting to your feet.

“you’re such a brash person to be in hufflepuff, has anyone ever told you that.” draco spits, before lighting his tone, “sorry i didn’t mean— i just need to speak with you.”

“so you flung me on my ass?”

“i didn’t mean to!”

you narrow your eyes at him, “i don’t want to speak with you. for the last time, leave me alone.”

“y/n you don’t understand i don’t have anyone else to talk to!” he shouts.

“oh so now you want to talk to me! just because your other friends are too busy now. what is it they’re busy with draco, helping the dark lord?” you seethe.

he huffs and looks down, not saying a word.

“that’s exactly what it is, isn’t it? keep me out of it, malfoy. i don’t want to be a part of your pathetic ideology.” you jeer.

he keeps his gaze on the ground when he mutters, “i don’t want to be a part of it either. that’s why i wanted to speak to you,” he looks up and stares right into your eyes. “i need help.”

your mind goes a mile a minute. you can’t stop looking at him. you don’t know if this is real or not but you reply before you properly think it out.

“what do you need from me?”

you see him relax a little. his eyebrows lower, he slouches a bit, and his eyes become softer. he looks more like the draco you knew. the thought makes your stomach drop and your mind race.

“can i take you somewhere?” he asks.

you nod your head and begin to follow the tall boy. he leads you into the castle, and up to the seventh floor. he looks at you before telling you to stand where you are and walks up and down the corridor three times.

you look at him confused and are about to suggest that maybe someone hit him with a confundus charm when suddenly a door appears in front of you.

“the room of requirement?” you ask, amazed.

draco doesn’t say anything as he pulls you into the room with him.

the room in question amazes you. there are millions of things that capture your gaze. it makes you feel extremely small.

“what are we doing here, draco?” you quiz.

“i’m going to show you something but you have to promise not to judge too quickly,” he stresses.

“i can’t just promise you—“ you stop yourself, taking away your defenses, “i won’t judge you draco. just get it over with.”

he lets out a deep sigh before lifting up his sleeve on his left arm, and you know what it is before he shows you.

a dark mark.

“draco, that’s kind of hard not to judge,” you affirm.

“i know. y/n, but i didn’t want it. he— he made me. my bloody father ruined everything. now i have to play as the dark lords' pawn. he’s asked me to do the unthinkable...” draco falters.

“what do you mean? what’s the unthinkable?”

the boy in front of you begins to look even more broken and hurt as he no doubt begins to think about whatever is troubling him.

“dumbledore. i have to kill him.” he says, tears pooling out of his grey eyes.

the confession causes you to step closer to the boy. you search his face for a lie, but come up empty-handed.

“you don’t have to, draco! you can go into hiding with me. we can go into the muggle world. do not do this, draco.” you plead.

“y/n you don’t understand. the dark lord will kill my mother if i don’t. she’s doesn’t deserve to die because of father’s mistakes or my cowardice. i have to do this. i just need one person to know that i never wanted to do it.” he tells you, desperately trying to wipe away his tears.

you can’t bring yourself to say anything, so instead, you wrap your arms around him. he’s still cold from the breeze outside and he shakes a little still from his confession. but you hold onto him and rub his back.

“i’m so sorry for everything. for third year, for this. i’m sorry y/n. i know you told me that i shouldn’t be worried about something that happened when we were kids, but i can’t help it. i never forgave myself.” he whispers into your ear.

“i know you’re sorry, draco.” you whisper back.

he pulls away from you and puts a hand on your cheek, “i was scared. you made me a good person and it scared me. and i loved you. salazar, did i love you.”

you furrow your eyebrows, “you loved me? back in third year?”

“so much. i never stopped really. i thought about telling you so many times over the past few years, but i could never work up the courage. then this happened and—” he sighs looking down at his mark, “well i thought i should tell you before everything happens.”

“i love you too. i hated not having you in my life.” you confess.

“i’ll never leave you again. i know it’s a lot to ask of you. i want you to tell me if you don’t want to be a part of this. you don’t have to put up with my fucked up life.” he expresses.

“i know you’re good, draco. i’ll make sure that after all of this is over, you’re not seen as something you’re not. when harry kills him and ends it all, i’ll be here. i want to be here for you, and i will.”

his eyes take in your words, watching your lips. the two of you are so close you can smell the deep and musky fragrance of his cologne. you feel the beat of his heart. his eyes bounce around from your mouth to you eyes, looking more asking each glance.

finally, you begin asking him the same question without the use of words. he doesn’t hesitate and connects his lips to yours. there’s electricity to the kiss. the motion causes your world to become brighter. you feel as though you’re opening up a part of your soul that hasn’t been touched in years, making you lean in deeper. the two of you are exploring parts of yourselves and each other, and before you can figure one thing out the kiss takes you to a new revelation.

the kiss starts to become even more hungry and intense. draco slips his free hand to the back of your neck, and you bring your hands to his soft hair desperately trying to pull him even closer. you feel your face get hotter and your stomach flutters more. draco’s lips are like the violent thunder you’d grown so accustomed to loving over the years. it makes you yearn for more, even though you know you have everything. you have every single fiber of the blonde boy. his soul is yours, and yours is his.

when the two of you pull away, nothing is said. you both silently come to the same conclusion, what you two share now makes up for what was lost.

“i’m so glad i never moved on from you.” he professes.

you smile a little at his wording, thinking back to the previous night. looking back in it now, you don’t understand why you’d ever lie to him.

“i never really wanted you to.” you say.

even though nothing is perfect and your situation had too many issues to write down, you and draco feel comfort and ease the both of you haven’t felt in a long time.

this time, you won’t let it escape you.

#—myfics !#draco x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco one shot #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x y/n #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #hufflepuff!reader #stephs200challenge

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Text

jean kirstein | supportive

so this was completely self indulgent. i also wrote this because i’m tired of reading really unrealistic writings of what having a depressed lover is like and how you should take care of them. i’ve been diagnosed with MDD, so i’m just getting tired of seeing misrepresentation for it. i tried to make the reader as neutral as i could, i apologize if i couldn’t. also i don’t feel like using capital letters, i apologize. also sorry the spacing is weird, i originally wrote this when i was half asleep on my notes and just copied and pasted. i have a lot to apologize for.

notes/warnings: depressed reader, mentions of s3lf harm, cursing, reader & jean are 18, slight angst, pure fluff

“(name)... (name).... babe? c’mon, i need ya to wake up for me,” a voice you recognize says as they knock on your bedroom door.

you stumble over the clothes in your room and over to your bedroom door, struggling to open it. despite said struggles, you do manage to open the door. and you end up scurrying back to your messy, and comfortable bed.

jean walks in, one hand holding onto the strap of his backpack and the other holding onto a plastic bag with stuff that smells like snacks. he’s got a soft smile that instantly shifts into shock, disgust, and then into a frown.

your room was a mess. you hadn’t cleaned it since the start of your depressive episode, the same for yourself. you left the trash of fast food bags, unfinished sodas, and crumbled up bags of cheese-it’s. the fact you had been farting in your room and wouldn’t leave the door open to air it out made the smell worse.

he opens his arms, giving you the decision of if you wanted a hug or not, to which you accept. you’re cuddling your face into his chest, and you’re absolutely positive that you rank of BO and greasy hair. he doesn’t joke about anything yet though, he knows not to.

“you okay,” he’s so quiet, you barely hear him.

you respond with a shaky mumble, “no. sorry if i worried you.”

he pulls away and shakes his head at the claim you’ve just made.

“you didn’t mean to. it’s okay,” he kisses your forehead.

“have you eaten today?”

you think a little before you answer, “not much... haven’t eaten since lunch.”

“okay, i got us some snacks if you feel up to it. do you want to start cleaning your room before or after you eat,” he kicks off his shoes—he always waits until he’s in your room since he spends most of his time there.

“after, my stomach might feel fucked if i eat before. even though i’m not really the one cleaning,” you groan, going back under your covers.

“wanna talk about why you’re upset before or after we eat?” he’s tugging the covers off of your body, he knows you’ll try going back to bed.

“before. i’ll get hungry after crying.”

“okay,” it goes silent for a moment, and then, “i love you.”

“i love you too. thank you, and... sorry if i don’t seem appreciative of this, i don’t know what to say other than thank you.”

“i know you appreciate it. anyways, i’m gonna start picking up some of your clothes and maybe some of the sodas. wanna get in the shower while i do that?”

“yea. if you need to air out my room, open the window. close the door while you clean, don’t like my mom knowing you’re cleaning for me,” you sigh, getting out of bed and walking to your dresser to get underwear, a shirt, and shorts.

“okay. don’t miss me too much,” he’s suddenly hugging you from behind, and it makes you think he’s the one who will miss you. his stubble is tickling you a little as he rests his head on your shoulder, he just started growing it out.

you turn your head a little to look at him, taking notice of how long his hair was starting to get. he’d be turning 19 next year and would soon be getting an apartment with you.

and dear god, you were so ready for that to happen. you hate living with your mother.

“i love you,” you whisper to him once again, and for once your mind feels at peace for just a moment.

“i love you more,” he kisses your clothed shoulder and smiles.

“let me go shower so i can stop smelling like shit,” you chortle a little, grabbing a ‘Queen’ shirt—which used to be jean’s but you’ve stolen it—and some shorts.

he rolls his eyes, but obliges and lets you walk out of your room into the bathroom. you try avoiding the mirror as you get naked but it proves to be pointless when you catch a glimpse of a pimple. you almost want to kill jean for not pointing it out, but you know it would only hurt your feelings. you’ll take care of that after you shower.

he’s putting your clothes in the laundry hamper when you’re coming back into the room with the ones you just had on. he takes them from you and you started putting on deodorant and do your hair routine. you’ve taken care of your skin in the bathroom.

jean’s turning on your TV and pulls out a can of cold (favorite soda), placing it next to your hand on your—now—clear vanity.

“thank you,” you smile a little, wanting to laugh at how he’s standing behind you and watching intently.

“‘m almost done, jean.”

“did you brush your teeth? i don’t want to be in a comfortable snuggle position only for you to get up to brush your teeth,” he ignores the comment you’ve made.

“oh shit, no. thanks for reminding me. i haven’t brushed them in a couple days,” you sigh, scurrying off to the bathroom again and jean decides to pull out the vacuum he knows you keep in your closet.

he plugs it in and started vacuuming the best he can, and as he does so his mind shifts to levi. ‘i hang out with him too much...,’ he thinks to himself as he turns the vacuum off to see if the filter is clean.

you walk back in, “what the hell are you doing?”

“vacuuming,” he says nonchalantly, squatting a little to see if he got the floor under your vanity.

you laugh again, “i’m sorry. you don’t gotta do that.”

“i know. just wanted to,” he shrugs, unplugging it from the outlet and wrapping it back up.

you jump onto your bed, which now has clean sheets because of jean, and scoot toward the wall. jean closes your window and grabs your drink and scoots in behind you. he puts your drink onto the nightstand—his is already on it—and shuffles awkwardly to lay behind you.

“you wanna talk about it,” he asks, leaning on an elbow and looking at you.

“yeah...”

“whenever you’re ready, babe,” he takes ahold of your hand and kisses it.

“so, like, other than the shit about my mom i told you about, i don’t know. i don’t know what’s wrong, and i had that urge to just hurt myself. it scared me so bad. and what scares me is that i almost acted on it. like, am i okay? what the fuck is going on with me?? a-and i just kept pretending to be sick to my mom so i didn’t have to go to fucking school,” you start off slowly and start to cry as you think about what caused jean to come here, which was the abrupt disappearance of your presence at school.

“you’re okay. and i am so incredibly proud of you for not giving into the urge to harm yourself and for messaging me. unfortunately, you can’t avoid school until may. i need your dumbass to graduate,” you both giggle a little.

“i just.... i feel so bad about worrying everyone at school. like i didn’t mean to, but i fucking did. eren’s so fucking pissed at me right now, i just fucking know he is. god, i just want to be happy,” you sob and jean rubs your arm with his thumb to help soothe you a little.

“eren’s just pissed because he’s worried, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to be an ass towards you. you’ll be happy, my love, i know you will. you’ve just got to wait—let me finish—and i know you’ve been waiting for a long time, but it won’t just happen overnight y’know,” he smiles with an eyebrow raised at the end, nudging you with his elbow a little.

“maybe start being nicer to yourself, huh? you’re absolutely gorgeous, and i love you just the way you are, but my opinion shouldn’t matter. the only opinion on yourself that should matter is your own. and try speaking up more when floch and ymir hurt your feelings on accident,” jean tells you while he draws patterns into your skin with his fingers.

“it doesn’t feel like that, y’know? and like—i don’t want to be selfish or hurt anyone else or worry anyone else, cause what if that hurts them?”

he shakes his head, “babe, when it comes your own happiness, you’ve gotta be selfish sometimes. and calling floch and ymir out won’t hurt their feelings, sure, they’ll be a little pissy about it for a second but then apologize. it’s not like you’re telling them they’re cunts and to go fuck themselves. also, everyone will understand you being selfish in order to be happy. it might hurt or piss someone off in the moment when you make an action that’s selfish but in the long run, they’ll understand. and if they don’t, they’re a fucking doucher. answer this one question i’ve got for you.”

“okay...?”

“at the end of the day, who’re you gonna have?”

“myself...?”

jean starts nodding rapidly, reaching over to wipe snot off your face, “you’re going to have yourself at the end of the day. preferably, i’d like to say myself, but there are going to be times where i hurt your feelings unintentionally or where you’re pissed at me, and that’s okay. you’ve gotta start being selfish and i know it’s hard, but i promise you it’ll be so rewarding in the end.”

you sniffle a little and nod while you listen.

“and about being sad in general without provocation. it happens. it’s okay to be sad sometimes babe, it’s a normal human emotion and it just means you’re living correctly. but if you’re sad because of nothing for weeks on end, then maybe it’s time to try to do something. it’s okay to ask for help. maybe talk to your mom about increasing the dosage of your anti-depressants and going back to therapy?”

“i don’t know how.”

“you could write her a letter and tape it somewhere you know she’ll look. if you can’t talk about it face-to-face, write that in the letter,” you nod again at him, quietly asking for a hug.

he responds by just giving it, and hums happily.

“i love you so much,” he whispers, squeezing you tighter.

“i love you too,” you laugh and whisper at the same time.

jean knows this isn’t going to immediately make you happy, but sometimes what you need is to just be reminded that it’s okay to feel this way and that in the end it’ll all be okay. and for right now, that’s all you really need.

#jean kirstein #jean kirstein x you #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin manga #shingeki no kyojin

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rafecameron · 3 years

Text

dancing on my own

request: Angst with no happy ending? How abt *insert actor/character* getting married and their ex (the reader) kinda 'forcing herself' to go to the wedding bc she really wants to see their mutual friends again but like doesn't wanna see the wedding. And reader just watching the love of their live get married and be happy with someone else and their heart silently being ripped apart? Too cruel?

pairing: ex!luke patterson x reader

word count: 2.1K

warnings: heartbreak, no happy ending

a/n: here you go cruel anon. turns out im not that great at heartbreak but hopefully this makes your heart crack a little bit. (also idk if people read authors notes but my requests are currently closed!)

Y/N thought back on all the times she could have turned around. When she was getting into her car. When she reached the airport. When she queued to board the plane. When she checked into her hotel. When she began to get ready. Now she was facing the very last time she could turn around. Stood outside the venue, all dressed up with no one to walk her inside. But just like the times before, she didn’t turn around, she pushed on. Her heart breaking a little more with each step, she knew that surely by the end of the night there would be nothing left but crumbs. She had promised herself two things before this trip. Number one; she would not speak to him. Number two; she would not cry. She wasn’t entirely sure she would be able to keep either of the promises to herself, but repeating them in her head made her feel that little bit calmer.

She situated herself beside a table lined with drinks, helping herself to a flute of champagne. She was anxious for the doors to be opened so she could find a seat, somewhere in a corner at the back would suit her just fine. Out of sight of anyone who would surely recognise her, she had no intentions of engaging in conversation until the reception. But seeing as what was happening today she should have known it would be her unlucky day.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a voice speaks beside her and she turns, landing eyes on someone she had not seen for far too long. His suit was tailored perfectly to his body, his long hair tied in a bun at the back of his head. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He pulls her into a hug.

“I wasn’t sure I would either,” she admits as she pulls away, “I wasn’t going to, but I wanted to see everyone...most people.”

Willie laughs softly, “I’m glad you’re here, sit beside me?” He asks, motioning with his head towards the doors that were being pulled open.

“Oh, I was just gonna sit in the back,” she stumbles over her words as Willie takes ahold of her hand, “Aren’t you going to sit with Alex?”

“He’s preoccupied.” Willie states simply, ignoring her protests as he pulls her towards the front of the room to take a seat in the front row.

She sighs as she sits down beside him. The sick feeling in her stomach growing as the room slowly became more and more full, people lining up on the benches and getting ready to watch the ceremony.

Willie reaches down and takes ahold of her hand again, giving it a light squeeze and offering a comforting smile, “You don’t have to stay.” He whispers.

“I do.” She nods, “I want to see everyone, I won’t stay all day but I need to at least say hello now I’m here.”

Willie nods his head, squeezing her hand one last time and patting her knees before turning back to face forward, the ceremony would be starting any minute and she found that her eyes were glued to the pattern on the floor.

For the entirety of the ceremony she didn’t look up. She didn’t want to risk meeting his eyes, didn’t want to see her friends sympathetic looks and definitely didn’t want to see the bride looking beautiful in her white dress. She tried her best not to listen, she couldn’t stomach hearing the vows and knew if she heard the words I do in his voice she’d cry. So she thought about anything else but what was happening in front of her.

She finally looked up when the couple was safely past her line of sight, eyes instantly meeting that of an old blonde friend. He gave her a wave, she was sure the smile was supposed to make her feel better but she just felt more pathetic. Why was she even here? She’s sure the invite was out of politeness and not an actual invitation to come. And if her friends were going to be tiptoeing around her and treating her like a porcelain doll she wasn’t sure she could cope. The nicer people were to her about this the more likely it was she would break down.

She didn’t want to think about it, about him, sure she was at his wedding but that didn’t mean this day had to be about him. She wanted to have a catch up with her friends, avoid her ex the whole night and then go back home, cry with a bottle of wine and forget this whole thing ever happened.

“I’m glad you came.” Alex says as he reaches her, pulling her into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too.” She responds truthfully, “Can we go to the reception? I think I need a drink already.”

Alex laughs, taking Willies hand in his own and leading the way towards the after party. The amount of people that were there she was sure she would be able to avoid the groom for the night. She found herself situated on a table with her friends, helping herself to a glass of wine and making sure the bottle was kept close to her.

No matter how excited she was to see her friends she found that now she was here she was finding it hard to hold a conversation. The group around her were still familiar with each other, still seeing each other and having things to talk about, she felt a little like a spare part. But still she smiled along and listened to their conversation. Something about a recent party they had attended where Reggie had drank a little too much, she laughed along with them unsure of what else to do. The more they spoke and tried to involve her in the conversation the more she realised she didn’t really know the people around her anymore. Sure she had good memories with them and she would always consider them her friends, but she didn’t really know them.

The best thing about weddings it that you can be invisible if you wanted to be. The bride and groom were always busy, everyone wanting to talk to them and congratulate them, and the drunker the guests got the easier it was to slip away from conversations and merely watch the scenes unfold. Which is exactly what she did. She watched her friends get drunk and progressively louder, not noticing anymore if she wasn’t joining in their conversation. If the night continued this way she was certain she would make it out in one piece.

She thought she was doing a pretty good job of avoiding the one person she feared seeing the most. But halfway through the night a hand landed on her shoulder and a familiar scent filled her nose. She felt her skin ignite where his fingers touched and she begged the butterflies in her stomach to go away, to fly away and disappear forever.

Turning in her seat she finally meets his eyes for the first time that night, forcing a smile onto her face as she stands up and allows him to pull her into a hug. Her heart hammers in her chest and she uses every ounce of will power within her to not shed any tears, she felt the epitome of pathetic. Wanting to cry at a wedding like she was in a bad romcom movie. Only if this were a movie she’d get the guy, or a second guy would come sweep her off her feet and make her forget the first one was ever there. She didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

“Thanks for coming.” Luke smiles, “You look great, that colour really suits you.”

She returns his smile with a tight lipped one of her own, “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.” She attempts a light hearted laugh.

She looked away, she couldn’t stand looking into his eyes any longer, his gaze intense and stirring way too many different emotions inside of her. She wanted him to be horrible to her, to tell her to leave and never come back, not to tell her she looks great. How was she ever supposed to get over him when he was nothing but nice to her all the time. She wished he had done something at the end to allow her to hate him. Cheat on her maybe, or tell her he never loved her, then maybe she’d stand a tiny chance of getting over him and moving on with her life. Instead he was selfish and kept her at arms length because he knew he always could and that should have been enough for her to stay away, but she just couldn’t.

“Congratulations,” she looks back at him, eyes settling just above his to avoid his gaze, “You seem really happy, I wish you all the best.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and it’s genuine, something which breaks her heart a little more.

Of course she wants him to be happy, but a bigger part of her wants him to be happy with her and not anyone else. She knows that’s selfish, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to wish it into existence no matter how futile she knows it is.

“Have you met Jess?” He asks, placing a hand on her shoulder as though about to lead her somewhere.

“Oh, no I haven’t but she looks busy,” she quickly shrugs his hand off, the bride she could see from the corner of her eye, laughing at something another guest had said, “I’ll introduce myself later.” She lies.

The only thing she could think that would be worse than this wedding was having to actually meet the bride. To meet her replacement, the better version. The one who had stolen his heart and been worth enough to keep it forever. She forces a smile and excuses herself to the bathroom.

As she reaches the bathroom she can feel her eyes stinging, shutting herself in a cubicle she fans her face, determined not to let a single tear fall. She had made a promise to herself and the least she could do was keep it. She leant her head back against the door, letting out a shaky breath to compose herself.

Once she was sure she wouldn’t cry she exited the bathroom again, thankful to see that he was no longer at the table she had just ran from. She took her seat and no one asked where she had been or if she was okay, she was glad for that at least.

As the night wore on she thought she was doing okay, one little hiccup but no tears since, she’d even found herself genuinely laughing at a couple points. He’d spoken to her and she hadn’t thrown up on his shoes, he had no reason to try and speak to her again.

But then it was time for the first dance and she felt her chest tightening. Her calm composure being over taken by a sinking feeling of dread. She watched for a minute, watched him hold her close and smile. Watched him lean in to kiss her gently before spinning her under his arm and pulling her back in. She wished more than anything that it was her in his arms, her who he still looked at like the world shone behind her eyes. But it would never be her again, and his bride she was sure was far more beautiful than she could ever hope to be.

She watched as more dancers joined the floor, her friends among them. She tried to smile, but the sight was too much for her. Her friends laughing and dancing with their loved ones while she sat on the side lines and watched feeling like a stranger. The slow music a melancholy soundtrack to her emotions, reminding her of something she could never have.

She stands from the table, dragging her eyes over each person she knew, lingering on Luke for a moment longer before she turned and walked out of the room. She knew that this would be the last time she ever saw him, because she knew seeing him happy with someone else would be a slow form of torture. So she walked away, from him, from her friends forever, leaving whatever little pieces were left of her heart behind. By the time she exited the building she felt nothing more than a hollow shell and she finally let the tears fall.

tags: @lovesanimals @makebank @chrlsgillespie @crybabyddl @marinettepotterandplagg @caitsymichelle13 @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @alexpjoyner @meangirlsx

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke patterson imagine #jatp fic #my writing

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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years

Text

Oh my heart part three

-Summary: Lin never expected to have a soulmate, in a world where your mark appears whenever your soulmate is born she grew up completely blank. So when she’s thirty and it finally etches itself around her arm, she vows to never be with the one meant only for her.

A/N: soooo I’ve never written a kiss before, please give me constructive criticism on it so I can better my writing. This is the last part and I’m really happy with the ending, please let me know which part of this whole series was your favorite!

Word count: 6k

When Lin wakes up, all she feels is the mind splitting pain from her blow, flashes of what happen play in her mind, the last thing she remembers is hearing you scream her name. You, Lin, forces her eyes open which is a task an of itself, and tries to sit up, her muscles spasm and give out, causing her to fall back down onto where she is laying, wherever she is its moving; Tenzin comes into her eyesight, he leans over her as he checks her pupils and her pulse. “Thank spirits you're all right, I was worried for a minu-”

“You just left my sister?!” Lin hears Korra scream from somewhere nearby. No, no she can’t have heard her correctly, Lin tries to sit up once more but Tenzin tries to push her back down.

“Get off of me” she growls out, sitting up so she can finally see the group in front of her. It’s Korra with her fists clenched and her face all pinched and red, she looks like she may very well kill everyone on board, yes, Lin realizes now that they are on the police force blimp. “We couldn’t find her and tanks were shooting at us, we didn’t ha-”

“Where’s y/n?” Lin asks, all heads turn to Lin and Korra points at Bolin and Mako, spitting out “ask them, they just left her behind! Amon probably has her now!” Korra storms off, hitting the wall with her firebending on the way out.

Mako rubs the back of his neck, he does look sorry and Bolin looks like he’s on the verge of tears. Asami is the one who speaks up “When we got down there they were loading your officers into some trucks, they must have already put y/n on there because she wasn’t with you three.” Lin’s heart stops, your gone and the last words she may have ever said to you was “don’t be a nuisance,” fuck. Lin’s head falls into her hands as she tries to keep her breathing even, she pushed you away like everyone else, and like everyone else you left even if it was against your will. All those silly daydreams that she had scolded herself for having, all those desires, she never even got to say how your laugh makes every little worry on her mind vanish.

Tenzin places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze “we’ll find your officers Lin.” Oh right, fuck, not only did she let y/n down but also her officers. How is she going to tell all their families? How will she face the citizens of republic city after failing to protect them like she swore she would? Tenzin tries to push Lin back into laying down and this time she relents, her mind is swirling with the possibilities of what's happening to you right now but none of them are good, even if you do come out alive your bending will be taken away.

“From the looks of it she put up a fight, there was water everywhere…” Asami murmurs out somewhere behind her, Lin squeezes her eyes shut, maybe if she tries hard enough you’ll magically appear, maybe if she promises the spirits she’ll be nicer to everyone, especially you, they’ll give you back to her.

Back, Lin never had you in the first place, she shut you out and squashed any chance there may have been, at the time it seemed smart but now she lays here wishing she had kissed you at least once. On the tram she almost did, when you stepped closer to her Lin's thoughts were engulfed in you, her senses were filled with you, the scent of your perfume, your voice, and even your touch. She’d wanted to pull you into a never-ending kiss right there in front of everyone, wanted to throw all caution to the wind and finally let herself be yours.

Instead, she’d snapped at you with some vicious reply that she doesn’t even remember all too well, just that she called you a nuisance and the devastating look on your face at her response. She had to turn away from you, she couldn’t look into your eyes or else she knew she’d have caved. She would have held your face in her hands and given a million sincere apologies in hopes of erasing that look from your face.

Lin uses the last of her strength to turn her back on the bickering group of teens and falls back to sleep, except this time all she dreams about is finding you dead in some ditch.

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Lin spent her time on bed rest with you and her officers on her mind. She was deeply ashamed of her failure, she even had nightmares about if she did find you. In them you were either dead or close to it, in one you even declined her help to get medical attention and told her you’d rather die than live your life with her as a soulmate. That one had truly shattered her. There's a radio beside her bed, for the most part, it played nonsensical talk shows with mind-numbing segments, the only reason she had it on was that sometimes a police report was given.

“We interrupt your regularly scheduled broadcast to bring you this special report. Late last night equalists attacked city hall subduing councilman Tarlock and capturing avatar Korra details are still coming in but-” Lin turns it off and forces herself out of bed, pain erupts in her right arm and she has to stop for a second to hold it and let the pain subdue, it doesn’t completely disappear but it’s enough to get her out of bed.

She lets out a pained groan and heads over to the closet that has her clothes inside, her uniform stares at her mockingly, reminding her that she’s no longer chief of police but right now isn’t time for a pity party, so she gets out of her pajamas and into her usual white tank top and pants then metal bends the armor on. Lin looks down at her breastplate and stares at her pin that marks as such and rips it off, tossing it onto her nightstand. She has to find Korra, you’d want her to find Korra.

Lin leaves the hospital with a coat over her armor to not so subtly hide what she's wearing underneath and storms off to retrieve Asami from her cell. She metal bends the door off and soon the two are off, Asami is walking next to her, trying to keep up with the pace “we’re gonna find them, I know we will” Asami says, Lin sighs and squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. She hope’s so.

She busts Bolin and Mako out next, reluctantly but she knows her best bet at finding everyone in time is with them by her side. Her next destination is Tenzin's office, once inside she finds him sitting at his desk on the telephone, he eyes them, a surprised look appearing on his face which causes Lin to roll her eyes. Did he expect her to pout until someone else fixed this mess?

“I… have to go,” he says to whoever is on the other end of the line. “Call me back the minute you hear anything-” he immediately ends the call, going to stand from his seat with his hands up in the air. “- Lin what... What are… what are you” he sputters out before his shoulders sag and he gives her an exasperated look. “You should be in the hospital! And you three-” he begins, pointing his fingers at the younger three of the group, “- should be in prison!”

“I figured you could use our help finding Korra” she replies, she wants to say find you, but she knows her best bet at finding you is through your sister, and if Lin found you first, you’d be enraged to find your little sister missing. They all theorize on how to start the search, Asami, Bolin, and Mako run off after Mako says he might know where to go. Lin looks up at Tenzin, letting out a deep sigh “wherever Amon is keeping Korra, I bet that's where y/n and my officers are too.”

Tenzin looks into Lin’s eyes and says with the utmost confidence “let's bring them all home Lin.” Everyone eventually boards Oogi and Mako directs Tenzin where to go. Besides his directions it's utterly quiet on the back of the sky bison, everyone is tense and buzzing with the hope that his hunch is correct. Eventually, they land in a city square and upon climbing down Mako immediately runs over to one of the streets “the truck that took Bolin went this way” he states, pointing at the winding road.

They walk down the street for at least two blocks before coming to an intersection, everyone slowly comes to a halt as Asami breaks the silence “which way?” Bolin strokes his chin as he steps closer to the street in front of them and replies “this way seems familiar.”

Lin, not wanting to go out on a hunch, especially one made by him, bends one of her shoes off and slams her foot down, she closes her eyes as she tries to see what's beneath the surface. A tunnel! It's to the left instead of straight and Lin bends her shoe back on, pointing left “there's a tunnel nearby!”

They break off into a sprint once more and come upon an unused storm drain that has a massive tunnel covered by a metal grate. Motorcycle tracks are leading into the tunnel, confirming their growing suspicions. “Korra has to be in there… somewhere,” Mako says as Lin bends the gate upwards with a bang.

They walk for at least fifteen minutes before they come to a grinding halt, in front of them are five separate tunnels splitting off into different directions. Mako is bending some fire in his hand to help illuminate their path. He doesn’t stop though, he points to a tunnel and tells them he thinks it's this way. With no other option, they all follow after him and continue their descent into the unknown. Soon they hear the revving of motorcycles behind them, Lin orders them all to hide and they all press themselves into a hidden nook. A secret door opens up for the cyclists and they speed inside without a single idea of what they’ve just done.

That pesky feeling of hope blooms in Lin’s chest once more, she runs over to the secret door that has since been shut and feels around before bending it open. It slams open and without a second to lose they race down this secret tunnel with abandon. There's a large room before them with equalists working inside, there are multiple vehicles inside and a tram system leading down three tunnels straight ahead.

One of the trams arrives and an equalist with a feminine voice walks up to the one holding a clipboard and says “everything was delivered to the prison, sir.” Both are fools, far too comfortable with the area because they walk away leaving the contraption unattended. “That’s where they must be keeping Korra” Tenzin whispers. And y/n, Lin thinks, she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, forcing herself to focus and says “we need to get down that tunnel.”

She waves at them, signaling them to follow her as she sneaks towards the tram. Once onboard, Asami drives it for them, going as fast as she can while Tenzin and Lin stand upfront, on guard for anything that may be lurking in the shadows. Once they see a light ahead seeping into the otherwise dark tunnel Lin orders them off and everyone presses their backs against the wall as the tram continues speeding down to the landing.

“It’s empty,” one idiotic officer says, and another reply in a snarky tone “yeah, I can see that.” Before either can investigate further, Lin shoots out her metal wires and yanks them into the darkness with them. She knocks them out, perhaps a bit too harshly but she’s beyond caring and ties them up so they can’t run off to warn anyone else. Using her aseismic senses, she’s able to locate her men… but not y/n.

“What about Korra?” Mako questions, his tone borderline irritable. Lin keeps a calm composure and replies “I don’t see her yet.” Mako and Tenzin follow Lin as she leads the way through the prison, all of the cells they pass are empty, strange. When they turn a corner two guards are waiting, as they ready themselves for a fight, Tenzin uses his bending to knock them out against the walls. Too easy.

When Lin finally finds their cell, all of them are sitting on their bunks with their heads down. Lin bends the bars apart but none of them seem to care as they stare up at her. “Chief Beifong?” officer Song asks, his voice is weak and Lin immediately knows that she’s failed her men.

“I’m too late, aren’t I? That monster already took your bending, didn’t he?” Song nods, his face solemn and Lin clenches her fists, having to look away from him or else she might just crack. “I’m so sorry... Come on, let's get you out of here” Lin turns her back on them and hears them follow after her, that means yours is gone too, wherever you are.

When Lin rounds the corner, she finds Mako holding one of the guards against the wall, one of his fists alight with fire. “I scanned the entire prison, Korra and y/n aren’t here.”

“Why would Tarlock make up a story about getting attacked?” Mako drops the guy and the guard falls to the floor, there's liquid on the floor beneath him that wasn’t there before, that wimp pissed himself. “Because he has Korra” she replies, Lin pushes past Mako and squats down to be eye level with the shaking guard, she wraps her hand around his neck but doesn’t put any pressure on him, it’s a threat and his eyes widen in fear as he realizes it. “W-We don’t have the avatar! I… I swea-”

“Where is y/n, she most likely came in on the same truck as my officers” Lin demands. The color drains from his face at her question, he begins stuttering out some kind of incoherent reply about how he doesn’t know but she can tell he’s lying through his teeth. Lin applies pressure and asks again. “Where. Is. She?”

“Sh-she killed her guards, they took her to a special place!” the guard has spit falling out of the side of his mouth, tears racing down his cheeks, she loosens her hold just a bit. Did you kill someone? It must have been before they took your bending away. “Where?!”

“It’s done below, you have to take an eleva-”

“Show me” she growls out, she yanks him up to his feet and pushes him away from the wall, he stumbles a bit but Tenzin catches his forearm, she can tell he’s not too pleased with her but she doesn’t care. Mako leads Lin's men back to the tram while Tenzin stays with her, keeping his hold on the blubbering guard. He leads them back down where the officers were held but keeps moving forward. There’s a locked door made of solid platinum, the guard pulls a switch out of his pocket and flicks it, causing the door to harshly slide open with a bang. He keeps leading them, his shoulders shaking.

They go down a twisting staircase and stop at an elevator stationed at the halfway point. He opens the metal sliding doors up and the three climb inside. There are a million buttons on the panel in front of them, if Lin came alone she’d have no clue where to start, but thankfully this wimp knows exactly what button to press.

“Oh man, Amons gonna kill me” he sobs out, snot drips into his mouth as he throws his head into his hands. Tenzin gives Lin a look of discomfort, neither are good at comforting people, both can’t be around someone whos crying without becoming incredibly uncomfortable. Tenzin lets out a sigh when he realizes Lin won’t give in.

“We’ll take you with us, so he can’t,” he says softly, the guards head flies up to look at Tenzin, the air bender takes a step back as snot and spit going flying, Lin scrunches her nose up in disgust. “Really?” he whispers, Tenzin nods and before he can even stop it, the guard flings his arms around him and squeezes him tight. Lin feels a chuckle bubbling up her throat at the sight of Tenzin's horrified gaze, he mouths ‘help me’ but Lin just turns her head to look at the door. The elevator dings and the doors creak open to reveal a dark hallway ahead of them. The guard pulls away from Tenzin and pats his shoulder, offering him a smile full of gratitude.

He leads them down the hall before they stop at another door, also made of platinum. Once again he pulls out his controller full of switches and flicks one, making the door slam open. Its pitch black inside, Lin takes a hesitant step inside. The sound of something scraping against the floor echoed through the room and Lin steps out of the way just seconds before you appear, holding up a metal chair, you swing it where she once was.

“Y/n,” Lin says, she sees your arms shaking as you drop the chair, you fall to your knees from exerting to much energy, “Lin?” your voice is hoarse, and when you lift your head to glance up at her, something inside of her cracks. Your hair is matted with dry blood, the side of your face is caked in it and there are bags under your eyes, your skin is so pale and despite only being locked up for a week you look so weak, your cheeks are hollowed out.

Lin finally knocks herself out of her thoughts when she hears you whimper and she scrambles down onto her knees to cup your face, she inspects you for any open wounds, or signs of illness, you bring one of your hands up to loosely grip her wrist and Lin gasps at the sight of your bloodied fingers.

“She… uh she was scratching a lot when we first put her in here,” he says hesitantly. Lin’s head swings over to him, suddenly the promise Tenzin made seems impossible, she wants to kill him and anyone else involved in your suffering.

“Why?” Lin spits out before he can answer her you reply softly “it was so dark.” Lin pulls you into her arms, burrowing her head into the crook of your neck, you fall into her arms, letting go of any tension within you as you become pliant to her will.

Someone clears their throat and Lin lifts her head to see Tenzin staring at her in confusion. “We should hurry,” he says, Lin nods and goes to stand but you grip onto her shoulders, she looks down and sees you try to stand, but your legs shake and you almost fall back down. She catches you and picks you up bridal style, you rest your head on her shoulder and close your eyes when you come out into the light. You hiss due to the pain and burrow your face into the fabric of her coat.

Something warm lights up her heart at the action but she smothers it, now's not the time. On the way back to the others Tenzin continues to stare at Lin oddly as the guard continues to lead them out.

You're sure this is a dream, you screamed for anyone down below, begged the spirits for a savior, and sobbed for mercy. But you gave up hope after a few days inside, it seemed you’d been left to rot, every few days someone would stop by with a small bowl of what can only be described as kitchen scraps and a sip of water. They were prolonging what felt like the inevitable, you felt so close to death, with your bending gone you had become weakened and you didn’t have any water to help strengthen you.

Halfway back to the others an ear-splitting siren went off as the lights in the prison repeatedly flashed red. Everyone broke into a sprint and ran down the stairs that reunited them with the others.

“Let's go, people!” Bolin calls out as everyone boards the tram, once inside Asami speeds off, behind them a set of headlights flashes as another tram picks up speed, Lin sees Bolin bend the tunnel into collapsing right on top of the second tram and if not for the situation she might have given him a pat on the back. Lin gives you to Tenzin who carefully holds you close as she shouts out “We got more company, hang on!” she shouts as she bends a metal vent to act as a ramp for them. Due to the speed of the tram, it keeps its momentum, she then bends away from the earth in front of them to allow them to enter another tunnel above.

The tram screeches as it's off its tracks and now on the stone before abruptly coming to a halt, everyone groans, the impact has caused them to either fly from their seats or in poor Asami’s case, bang her head into the metal wall in front of her. Tenzin had used his air bending to keep both of you seated, adding enough pressure that when everyone went flying, you both just experienced a jolt.

Lin opens up a hole above, letting the sun shed light on the otherwise dim tunnel. Tenzin gets everyone out with his air bending, including the officer that Lin is most definitely arresting and sentencing to life if she can have anything to do with it. Once up above, Lin goes to take you from his arms but Tenzin pulls back and stares her down.

“What was that about down there?” he questions. In another world Tenzin would have been the one fretting over you, he’d taken you both in and sworn to your parents that he’d protect you. Whilst Korra was a bit rough and hard to handle, you’d play with his children, you kept Jinora company when she felt left out, and helped feed the sky bison whenever you could.

You’d already talked to Pema about how you’d help with the delivery of their next child you’d briefly trained at a healing school in the southern tribe before you decided to follow Korra here and had helped many women deliver healthy babies into the world. You were like a daughter to him, so Lin's unusual display of affection almost unnerved him.

Before Lin can come up with some kind of retort, you turn your head, your eyes squinted as you try to adjust to the light. “Lin?” you say, you reach out for her and without thinking of Tenzin she steps closer and grabs your hand. “I need to take her to the hospital Tenzin and you need to deal with Tarlock.”

Tenzin scowls before carefully handing you to Lin, almost immediately you clutch her coat and snuggle in as close as you can. His brows knit together as the pieces of the puzzle finally snap into place. “But…” he begins, Lin stops him before he can bombard her with questions. “I need to get her to a doctor as soon as possible.” She knows later down the line she’ll have to have a long talk with him, explaining herself and… this thing between the two of you. She rushes off in the direction of the hospital, it’s four blocks away which isn’t too far but she’s filled with fear that somehow you’ll die in her arms if she doesn’t hurry. Once inside the waiting room, Lin calls out for help and two nurses rush forward with a wheelchair once they see you in her arms.

They whisk you away, or try to, one of the nurses tries to convince Lin to stay behind but she won’t be separated from you, not until she knows you're completely safe. “She’s my soulmate and I’ll arrest anyone who tries to keep me away from her right now.” That shuts her up. Lin’s never pulled that kind of card before, and honestly, she wouldn’t arrest someone unless they’d done something illegal but you're getting farther away and her heart is beating faster. The nurse blanches and Lin takes that as her queue to run after you.

The same doctor who looked after Lin, which he repeatedly tries to convince her to go back to her room and rest, to which she declines, looks you over for any injuries. The back of your head is healing, very slowly though and it doesn’t look like it’s been properly cleaned so he has one of the nurses do that as he checks the rest of your body.

“Does it hurt anywhere besides your head and your hands?” he asks, to which you can’t offer a proper reply. Everywhere hurts, you're sore and weak and you feel like if you close your eyes you may never open them again. The doctor sighs, “we need some bone broth and -” he starts listing off medicines to the nurses who scurry off and he orders two others to clean your fingers which elicits a pained groan out of you.

Lin kneels and stays there the whole time, once the nurse arrives with a warm bowl of broth Lin takes it from her and helps you sip it. She nudges her arm underneath your neck to prop your head up and gently brings the bowl up to your lips before tilting it slowly to allow only a little at a time. You happily drink it but can only get about halfway before you claim your too full to continue.

She frowns but relents, not wanting to push you. Eventually, the nurses move you to a proper bed, one like Lin’s, after they clean you up and tuck you underneath the blankets. You’ve long since fallen asleep and the sun is beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow throughout the room. You already look a bit better, one of the nurses gave Lin a warm, wet cloth when asked so she could gently wipe your face clean of all the dried up blood. It’s been roughly two hours since Lin entered the hospital and she already wants out, but not without you. This is a public place and therefore means it's easier to attack, if she lets her guard down Amon may very well try to steal you away once more.

Tenzin and the others, sans Korra, enters the hospital room as Lin finishes wiping up the dirt above your brow and when she hears them, she immediately sets the cloth onto the table, embarrassment floods through her at being caught and she knows she shouldn’t care but she does.

“Tarlock is a blood bender,” Bolin says, raising his hands in the air “and he has Korra!” Mako jabs Bolin in the stomach as everyone shushes him, you stir, letting out a groan before stilling once more, thankfully he didn’t wake you, or Lin definitely would have knocked some sense into him.

“We should all go to air temple island, we’ll be safer together-” Lin goes to speak up, she won’t leave you behind “- y/n will too. I spoke with a nurse outside who says she doesn’t have any serious injuries, just malnourished and therefore very weak. Food and rest will help.” He clears his throat and looks Lin in the eyes “I’d like to speak outside for a moment.”

She stands up, knowing that she needs to get this talk over with. Asami takes Lin's seat beside you as she walks out of the room and down the hall just enough so that they are out of earshot. “She’s my soulmate” Lin starts, her hand once more grazes the burnt mark that now fills her with so much regret. Tenzin looks away before letting out a deep sigh.

“How?” he questions. She lied to him for so long, he’s seen her body bare and knows that she doesn’t have a mark, anymore. His eyes follow her hand and a look of shock takes over his features “It wasn’t a work-related accident, was it?” His jaw clenches as he stares her down. She burnt it right before they went out for the first time, he’d claimed he would find the man responsible for her scar but she’d always shrugged it off. It makes sense.

“No… I was ashamed” she grits her teeth as she remembers sobbing over the burn, telling herself to get over it and that it was for the better. That she’d be happy with Tenzin and wouldn’t need some infantile immature young adult in her life. But you aren’t immature, you're so strong and courageous, she’s seen how you care for those around you and honestly, she doesn’t get how your friends with Bolin and Mako since they are both downright annoying whilst you are anything but.

“And now?” he questions, she knows he probably has a million little judgments he wants to spew out, most likely scold her for something that she can’t control and she’s grateful for him reigning it and trying to remain calm. She doesn’t think she can handle anything else that requires even an ounce of effort after how today has gone.

“I tried to push her away, I told her it wouldn’t work but…” Lin tries to find her next words but there's a lump forming in her throat and she will not cry, not in public, and definitely not in front of Tenzin.

“But she was captured” he finishes for her and she sharply nods, staring at some water stain on the wall up above his right shoulder. “I want you to be happy Lin, even if this does seem strange to me, if you both make each other happy then I’ll get over my preconceived judgments and support you both.”

Lin simply nods, tears are threatening to fall from her eyes so she mutters a “thank you” and heads to the bathroom to compose herself. Tenzin understands, he heads back to your hospital room as Lin barges into the thankfully empty bathroom and begins to cry. You're fine, you're safe and relatively healthy and you will be fine. All she can hope is that once you’ve recovered you’ll forgive her, Lin never apologizes or admits she's wrong but for you, she’ll do so in an instant. She’ll get on her knees for you, beg you even. She’ll be humiliated but it will have been worth it if you give her another shot, one that she’ll make sure she doesn’t screw up.

Tenzin’s approval means so much to her, he probably doesn’t realize it either. She might never be close to him again after what happened but she still sees him as her family, if he’d have shamed her Lin wouldn’t have been able to go on, which she’ll never let him know.

Lin wipes the tears out of her eyes and waits until the redness and puffiness die down before leaving the bathroom and heading back into your room. You're sitting up and are listening to Tenzin with a tired smile on your face as he talks to you about who knows what. Your hair is still caked in dried up blood with bags under your eyes but still, you take Lins breath away.

Tenzin ushers everyone out of the room to give the two of you privacy, Bolin puts up a bit of a fight but relents when Lin fixes him with a glare that has him racing on out of the room before anyone else. Tenzin places his hand on Lin’s shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze before shutting the door behind him on the way out.

“Lin” you begin and in an instant, she’s rushing over to your side, she stops herself just as she’s about to take your hand, worried about your reaction. You slowly reach your hand up and interlock your fingers, there’s this look on your face like you're waiting for Lin to pull away in disgust. Instead, Lin gives your hand a gentle squeeze and slowly sits on the stool beside her bed like before.

“I’m sorry,” she says earnestly before you can say whatever was on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes widen but you don’t respond, you're waiting for her to continue, to elaborate so you don’t end up getting hurt again.

“I..” Lin gulps, “I thought I’d be a burden to you, I’m old, practically married to my job, I definitely won’t be winning any awards for my personality-” you crack a smile at that, it warms her heart “-and I don’t want kids. I thought maybe you’d want someone like Bolin or Mako because they could give you those kinds of things I can’t, I like to be in bed by nine and I’ve never even set foot in a dance club before. I’m… I’m not young like you.”

“Are you done?” you ask, Lin furrows her brows but otherwise nods, your other hand, the one not holding Lin's hand comes up to rest on her scarred cheek. “Did you ever think that maybe I want everything you can give me? No matter how much or how little it may be. I don’t want kids, sure they're nice but they are messy and time-consuming, it’s a job for life with no weekends.” Lin laughs at that, spirits, she doesn’t know if she believes you, it seems too good to be true.

“I can’t take someone else leaving me” she states, a pained look settling on her features. Your eyes soften and you pull Lin closer to you, she’s leaning against the bed now, your noses almost touching. You rub your thumb soothingly across her cheek, you're trying to find the right words to say. You can’t mess this up.

“I can’t promise I’ll never get mad at you or I'll never irritate you. We’ll probably have a string of fights throughout our years together but… I’ll never leave you, Lin, you’re all I want out of this life.” Lin’s eyes widen as unshed tears brim at the corners of her eyes. She’s never been told something so heartfelt, so romantic before.

She leans up further until your lips are inches apart and waits for a breath, waits to see if you’ll pull away, and claim that this is all a joke. But instead, you close the gap and let go of her hand just so you can cup both sides of her face. Your lips are so soft and delicate as you pull her closer until your chest to chest like back on the tram. Lin deepens the kiss, her hands resting on your waist, she’s too scared of gripping you in fear of hurting you in your fragile state. You lick the bottom of her lip and she opens her mouth all too eagerly, her knee is now resting on the edge of the bed so she can wrap her arms around you, pulling you flush against her.

Too soon you pull away from her, panting against her mouth and when Lin opens her eyes she has to fight the urge to pull you back into another passionate kiss. Your pupils are blown, cheeks flushed a deep red with swollen lips. She tries to capture it within her mind for safekeeping

“I think I love you” you whisper, your voice is hoarse and you thread your fingers through her hair, lightly gripping it. Lin has to keep herself from moaning at said action. That cynical side of her brain shouts within her skull that you're lying but Lin ignores it, she pecks you on the lips which you eagerly try to deepen but she pulls away just a few inches so she can talk.

“I think I love you too,” Lin whispers, too scared of breaking this moment that almost feels sacred. A smile spreads across your lips as you pull her into a kiss once more. Lin happily kisses you, her heart blooms with a million budding roses, all for you as she finally lets go of all her fears, all her insecurities, and enjoys the feel of you against her. Finally, she thinks

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