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fourcornerstar · 2 years

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Warm Welcome

@paper-lilypie inspired by your runaway bride AU, I just had to get this out. Also working on a comic, but my lineart sucks and I think this is less of an eyesore. I really hope you enjoy because this au has absolutely stolen my heart!!!

TW Swearing TW Cheating

The clock above the oven was slow, two minutes behind, to be precise. It stalled at 4:57 am. The room was shrouded in soft light from the hall. A faint yellow glow to keep you from stubbing your toe on the kitchen island. You read in the paper that the sunrise would be around 6:45. Fairly typical of late autumn. The tiles in the kitchen were cold, like a sheet of ice was laid over the floor. The entire house felt frigid and dead. You leaned at the counter next to the stove, watching the hot plate grow redder and redder. A white percolator was starting to steam. The silk robe wrapped around your shoulders did nothing to wick away the chill nipping at your thighs and ankles.

Deeper in the house, you heard the jiggle of a doorknob and someone shuffling into the living room. Your fiancé, William Afton, yawned, rubbing at his eyes as he strolled into the kitchen. A blue felt robe was tied loosely at his hips, his chest bare but a pair of striped pajama bottoms saved his dignity. William flinched at first, but relaxed, recognizing you in the dim light.

"A bit early to put on coffee." He mumbled, scratching at his stubbled jaw. But, he didn't complain, sidestepping you to get to the upper cabinet and grab a mug. You said nothing. You didn't even spare him a glance. Disgust stirred in your chest as you were reminded of where you found him yesterday morning. Wrapped up in your sheets, comfortable with another lover.

His bare feet tapped against the floor as he walked behind you. He set the empty mug on the counter, wrapped his arms around your waist, and kissed your cheek. The wiry 5'oclock shadow scratching your face. You barged your way out of his hold, pushing him aside.

"What the hell was that?" He barked in surprise.

He shut up when he saw your face, narrowed into a venomous glare. Your arms crossed as you leaned against the refrigerator door.

William sighed, his hand at his temple.

"Is this about Johannes?" His voice was tired and bored. He could care less as he helped himself to the fresh pot of coffee.

"How long?" You were surprised you could even speak about his disgusting display. Of course, William decided to play stupid.

"How long, what, dear?"

"How long have you been fucking each other in our bed." The words came out like jagged glass, trying to elicit any sort of remorse from the man in front of you. He shrugged.

"Just once. I prefer the hotel down by the bistro. Keeps the public eye away. "

A scoff caught in your throat.

"What? I'm just being honest-"

Your voice broke as everything hit your heart at once. You looked at William dead in the eyes through the angry tears starting to prick at the corners of your own. "How could you do this to me? To us... Our wedding is in three weeks, and you’d toss it in the bin for one of your assistants." a bitter laugh cut off your own words. You couldn't believe what came out of your own mouth, your own naivety. You were warned he was a wanderer- hell, he's already been divorced! How could you be so stupid! Stupid-stupid-stupid!

William rolled his eyes, swirling the mug of coffee like a glass of red wine.

"Oh, would you stop with the theatrics? I still love you. We're still going to tie the knot. I already spent a fortune on the venue and that damned dress. No matter what you think, I'm not throwing "us" away."

"Do I even get a say in this?" Your hands were now on your hips.

William's gaze narrowed, "You gave me your answer. What, you want to break up over a small infidelity? Seems to me like you want to toss the relationship in the bin."

"You go behind my back sleeping around the town and expect me to be okay with becoming your spouse?!"

"You are so dramatic. All I was doing was fulfilling my needs. Something you've been denying me."

"Your needs- your fucking needs!" Your hand clamped over your mouth as you fought back the urge to scream. You could feel your heart rate spike. But, you refused to raise your voice. Your eyes glanced back to the hall where your sibling’s room was.

"You can't possibly expect a man like me to be satisfied with just this! It's not in our DNA- there are studies about this- hell, it's even in the word of God! You don't need to take it so personally."

You heard enough. You brushed past William through the kitchen and out the front door without another word. William's yells echoed past the closed door and the threshold of your yard for you to come back.

Outside it was much colder. Patches of frost in the grass glistened like diamonds in the moonlight. Your bare feet treading on the concrete into town. You needed to clear your head. You didn't have a destination in mind, but anywhere would bring welcome peace.

The sidewalk narrowed. A few cars parked here and there as you strolled into the small strip of civilization of Hurricane. Many shops were still closed, inky black reflecting you in the window glass. It couldn't be any later than 6 am, but strangely enough, you smelled fresh bread.

It was warm and enticing, wafting from a little bakery across the street. There was no traffic stopping you from j-walking. You came up to the window, your breath fogging the glass as you peered in. The back lights were on, but no one was at the register. The local bakers must just be getting their stock ready for the day. You walked

Your hand traced the wooden sill alongside the window before it caught on the door seam. It was unlocked. The little sign said, "Open 6:30 am Every Day."

It would be warmer than the street, surely. You pushed the door, a gentle bell ringing to alert the front desk of a new customer. The smell of fresh baked goods intensified as you strolled through the doors. You sighed a breath of relief, letting the warmth calm your worries, even if it was only for the moment. Deeper in the kitchen, you could hear two voices bouncing around the walls in hastened conversation. Suddenly, something- er- someone popped their head out of the kitchen door. You squeaked in surprise at the... It was 6 and a half heads- no 7. It had to be 7 feet tall. A robot, bright yellow with a half moon on its faceplate and glowing eyes. Yellow sun rays were poking from its head like a halo. A robot running a bakery. 'Well, I'll be damned.' You've heard of robots gaining more and more influence around the country. 1961. It's a new industrial age. There's more and more and more innovation coming from wise minds, setting artificial intelligence on the street. You read this all on the news. Even your current fiancé, William Afton, works as the CEO of Faztech. But you haven't ever seen a sentient robot in person until today.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry to be catching you this early, the door was open, and it smelled so good-" you fumbled for excuses, cheeks starting to burn from embarrassment. Where were your manners? Even if the shop was unlocked, it didn't give you the right to barge in and trespass between hours.

"Oh! Moon, we have guests!" 'He' called back into the kitchen and stepped into the waiting area with you. A baggy apron was tied around his waist, dotted with flour. A chef's coat buttoned to his collar, and bright red chef pants at his heels. You could hear the soft whir of fans coming from him.

"Oh, it's quite alright, doll. We weren't expecting customers so early. Most like to stop by later in the morning." He brushed his hands clean on his apron. They were mixed between chromatic metal and yellow paint. Most likely, the color was chipping off between the joints due to his work. His faceplate shifted into a bright smile, one that was warm and welcoming. You felt your shoulders drop and relax.

"Feel free to look around. We're not stocked up just yet, but we have fresh cinnamon rolls that will be ready soon." You hummed, rocking on your feet.

"I haven't seen this place before. Have you been open long?" You asked, hands gently clasped behind your back as you glanced around the shop. The walls were painted a soft sage green, with rich dark wood accents. The floors were matching wood as well, waxed and clean. Two shelves ran along the walls, with little signs in the place of the goods. 'Baguettes,' 'Rolls,' 'Brioche,' in neat wax paper bags, ready to be sold.

"We actually opened a few months ago. Decided it was time to set our sights on our passions."

"We?" you leaned closer, lending an eager ear to the robot's story.

"Moon and I have been working together for as long as I can remember." The robot reminisced, his finger thoughtfully tapping where his chin would be.

"We used to be entertainers, touring around like a circus. Oh, what was it called." With a couple snaps of his fingers, his eyes lit up as he remembered. "Freddy's ring! We used to be acrobats, you know... But, it was time for a change of pace."

Your own lightbulb went off. 'Sun and Moon Bakery-'

"So you're sun?" He nodded, chest puffed out with pride. "The one and only!"

You giggled, "It's nice to meet you, Sun. I hope I'm not being a bother this early."

Sun gave a thoughtful pause, his voice shifting to concern.

"Dear, I don't mean to pry, but are you okay?" His voice echoed against the empty walls of the shop.

"Me? Oh, of course, I'm fine. Really, I just like to take walks..." You glanced out the window, eyes downcast. Sun cocked his head, his 'mouth' drawn into a concerned pout.

"In your pajamas? Not that they're not lovely, I'd say you have a pretty snazzy sense of style. Trendsetting!" He waved it off with a hand, still trying to avert his gaze back to the empty glass display case to save your dignity.

Were you in your pajamas? Oh crap. The sudden reality hit you that you were only wearing your robe and a pair of floral babydoll pj's. Your cheeks burned bright red, the heat nipping at the tips of your ears. You brought the robe tighter around your waist, praying its length saved you some modesty. You cleared your throat.

"I guess I lost track of that little detail... I needed- I needed to get some fresh air- and clear my mind. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. Here," The robot pulled up a chair at the window and motioned for you to sit down. You hesitantly followed Sun's instructions. When your back was to him, you could feel the warmth running off the robot- like a flesh and bones human was right behind you. He gave your shoulder a gentle pat.

"I'll grab you a cup of homemade cocoa, best in town."

"Um, sir, I'm sorry, but I didn't bring any money..." You called after him before he could disappear back into the kitchen. As if this couldn't get any more awkward, you didn't have a cent on you.

"On the house, dear, please don't worry," Sun said with a flippant hand wave. The kitchen door flapping closed, bouncing open a little behind him.

He was out of the kitchen in no more than five minutes with a steaming cup of hot chocolate. He even added marshmallows. A smile broke on your lips as you accepted the cup into your cold hands.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. It's been a rough two days." You said with a sigh, glancing out the window. The sky had now shifted into a soft peach color as the world woke up.

"Anytime. The best part of our work is seeing smiles on our customers' faces." Sun said, hands on his hips, watching the sunrise at your side.

The sunrise began to cast dappled light into the shop windows. People outside were starting to rise and walk the streets. The mug of fresh cocoa in your hands kissed your lips. It was sweet and rich. For the first time since that horrible morning, when your entire world was flipped on its head... You felt that everything would turn out okay.

#Sun and moon #william afton #@paper-lilypie #runaway bride au #Sun and Moon x reader #cw cheating #cw swearing #hot cocoa makes everything better #fnaf #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf au #drabble #does this count as a Drabble?#let me know if I should post this on my AO3 #NOT MY AU

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formulavilla7 · 3 years

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Always the Bridesmaid, never the bride (A Timo Werner imagine)

This is my first fanfiction so I apologise if it’s not great, I’d love to improve. I’m quite nervous to post this haha. Hope you enjoy nevertheless though and I’d appreciate any feedback. Thanks!

It was the same old story for Y/N. An invitation to a wedding and a request that she’d be a bridesmaid and thus she had a lot of responsibility. This was nothing new however, it was actually the opposite, for Y/N this was the third wedding that she’d be attending as a bridesmaid and whilst she was honoured that her friends wanted her to have such an influential role in their special day, she couldn’t help but be jealous, longing to be in their place, shrouded in white. She longed for the moment where she’d commit to the man she’d love for the rest of her life.

Unfortunately for Y/N, she hadn’t found Mr Right yet and she hadn’t exactly been actively looking. Her love life was pretty much non existent and had been for a while, it had all dried up and there was a drought in her heart that she was waiting for that special person to fill.

After being run off her feet for hours supporting the bride, her dear friend Katie and making sure that her groom (a certain Chelsea left back by the name of Ben Chilwell) wasn’t tempted to peek, Y/N got ready herself in a royal blue dress, chosen by the bride to reflect her groom’s team and then joined the ceremony. It was beautiful and she had to be careful not to shed a tear or two, not wanting to spoil her makeup. Only then did the reception party begin.

Following the first dance of the newly wedded and blissfully happy couple, the party kicked off in full flow with music and dancing and drinks flowing from the bar. Y/N smiled to herself, quietly observing with her drink in the corner, sipping at it occasionally and humming to some of the songs. Unbeknownst to her though, she had an admirer. Timo Werner. The blond haired German was quietly observing her from across the room, taking in how happy and relaxed she looked. He watched her for a short time, trying to work up the courage to talk to her but doubting himself every time. ‘What if she doesn’t want to be disturbed?’, he asked himself. ‘What if you embarrass yourself?’ His train of thought was interrupted by both the groom and his fellow German, Kai Havertz both of whom had noticed him staring, utterly transfixed by the mystery woman. He was startled when they appeared next to him, heart rate spiking in fear and a rush of breath leaving him as he almost jumped out of his skin. They laughed between themselves at his terror,finding it rather amusing and began to tease him. ‘You know Timo’ Kai started, struggling to hide his smile ‘staring is usually considered to be quite rude’

Ben chimed in ‘You should probably go and introduce yourself and try and make conversation like a normal person. You don’t want to give off the wrong impression. Oh and don’t even try and deny it Timo’ he said seeing the faux confusion in Timo’s eyes

‘Alright you got me, I was looking at her but I can’t just go over. What would I say? Hi I’m Timo and I’m the guy who’s been staring at you for the past 5 minutes?’ He blushed, embarrassed to have been caught. He felt to shy to go over, he didn’t have the guts and was worried that she’d think he was strange and that he wouldn’t have a chance with her. She was beautiful and he was sure there was more to her than what met the eye and he felt certain that she would have already have found someone. He felt jealous of that person and hoped that they felt lucky to have her.

‘Well maybe don’t admit to staring at her for 5 minutes’ Ben laughed at his friend ‘but introduce yourself. Talk to her, you never know what might happen. Katie speaks really highly of her’

Timo sighed, he knew his friend was right. There was only one way of finding out and that was to gain some confidence and go over to her so he took a deep breath and went over before he could talk himself out of it, Ben and Kai clapping him on the back in support.

The sound of his dress shoes reverberated against the floor, alerting Y/N to his approach. She looked up slightly, sending Timo a soft, shy smile. She had also been secretly checking him out, admiring his sharp features.

Finally he stood in front of her and was able to see her beauty close up, including the stunning smile she sent him. ‘Hi, I’m Timo’ he said nervously ‘I don’t think we’ve met’

‘You’re right, I don’t think we have. I’m Y/N’ she smiled, reaching out her hand which he shook. She too felt apprehensive, unused to being the centre of attention especially by a man and an attractive one at that. She blushed at the thought, cheeks blooming into a soft pink.

‘Nice to meet you. You were a bridesmaid right?’

‘I was, it’s my third time being one. I think you could say that ‘always the bridesmaid never the bride’ would be an accurate phrase to sum me up’ she laughed awkwardly, cursing herself for admitting that. Great she thought, now he thinks that no one wants you.

Timo just smiled however and made no comment on that. ‘I can’t dance very well but I noticed you looking at the dance floor earlier and I wondered, would you like to dance with me?’ He held out his hand shyly, hope gleaming in his brown eyes. She took his hand, smiling and nodded. She wanted to get to know the German and she felt butterflies in her stomach when he offered to dance with her. She found him endearing, with everything from his strong accent and English to his gentle eyes, warm and comforting.

As they danced albeit a little clumsily with Timo’s footwork not being quite as good as it would be if he had a ball at his feet, they both felt oddly content despite being relative strangers as they conversed gradually learning more about each other. Timo told her what it was like playing football for a club like Chelsea and how it wasn’t always easy, he told her about his hometown Stuttgart and about Leipzig as she listened intently, offering him a comforting ear when he admitted his struggles with Chelsea (he felt oddly at ease telling her despite it being their first meeting) and she reacted with a keen interest when he told her about Germany, having never been herself and in return she told him about her life in England where she’d been born and raised, how she’d become friends with Katie and her job working as a florist, where she’d created the beautiful centrepieces and the bride’s stunning bouquet. She’d thought carefully about the flowers included and the meanings they had and Timo admired her as she told him about her love for the flowers she included and how thoughtful she appeared to be, taking care so that everything would be perfect for her friend.

By the end of the night they’d swapped numbers with a promise to meet up in the week with Timo bucking up the courage to ask her on a date. They left each other reluctantly, both of them excited to see where this would go and Timo couldn’t help but to internally thank Ben and Kai because without them he wouldn’t have had this opportunity. Only time would tell if Y/N would finally be able to call herself the bride one day and neither of them could wait.

#footballer imagine #timo werner #timo werner imagine #football imagine

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onyxiana-is-obsessed · 4 years

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To Fall for the King | Izuku Midoriya x Reader

AN: Hello! This is another discord prompt! This month was a Royal AU and I had so much fun writing this! This is MY LONGEST FIC! I’m proud! Also, I got inspiration from the otome game Midnight Cinderella from Louis’ after story route and Byron’s main story. There are no spoilers through!

Length: 10.2k

Summary: You are first born royal of (k/n) and king Izuku from Toral has proposed to you. The marriage is simply to unite your two kingdoms but not long after, you find yourself falling for the stoic king.

Warning??? Izuku is OOC BUT based on the story it would be normal! Enjoy!!

“With this marriage, we have united both (k/n) and Toral!” At the words of your father, the crowd burst into a loud cheer, which was almost deafening. It was enough to bury your sorrow deep down as you looked upon the loyal citizens of your kingdoms. Your eyes glanced at the man next to you- your husband- but he was looking straight ahead with a fake smile, waving at everyone.

Izuku Midoriya was the current king of Toral and had been since his father passed away and his mother stepped down. Before the passing of the late king, they had approached (k/n) with a proposal, one you didn’t like from the beginning. They wanted a marriage to create an alliance between your kingdoms. Your parents were on board but hadn’t confirmed anything without asking you.

You didn’t want to marry Izuku, you’d barely known him and your parents were all for it… except you had no one else. Being a (princess/prince) who would succeed the throne kept you busy, you were learning the ins and outs of becoming (queen/king). Busy enough that you never had a chance to fall in love on your own.

Toral was a very powerful kingdom, with a strong army and an amazing, thriving economy. You hated the idea of marrying Izuku for the sole purposes of uniting kingdoms… but it’s not like you had anyone else waiting for you. In fact, you were getting older and hadn’t had the opportunity to fall in love. Toral would’ve made a great ally and that was your reasoning for what you did. You accepted the proposal, ready to marry Izuku for your kingdom. For your people.

The thing was, he was just as busy as you. Your families had set up a date for you… but sadly king Hisashi passed away before you could. Toral had to grieve and move on extremely quickly, meaning Izuku had to take the throne. Queen Inko kept her throne up until the marriage. One day prior to it, Izuku was crowned king of Toral and queen Inko stepped down, making room for you.

Here you stood, minutes after your wedding, looking down at all people from both kingdoms. They looked so happy and you wished you could feel even an ounce of that happiness. Tears threatened to fall from your beautiful (e/c) eyes, tears that could easily be mistaken for tears of joy. Like Izuku, you forced a smile on your face and waved to the adorning crowd. One stray tear slid down, however, no matter how hard you wished to keep it in.

***

You sat on the bed, looking down at your hands in your lap as the tears dripped down your cheeks. You were currently in your new bedroom in your temporary home. Your parents still reigned over your country, which made you move away with Izuku to his, since he was king there. In a few weeks, you’d be crowned (king/queen) and your kingdoms would unite with a new castle being created in the middle of both territories. That would be your permanent home.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. You were supposed to be jumping for joy… yet here you sat in your wedding (dress/suit) crying your eyes out as the sorrowful atmosphere got thicker. From the day you were born, you were taught this was normal. This WAS the norm for royalty, often to unite kingdoms. But that didn’t mean you were happy about it. After all that happened today, you could no longer keep up the facade.

Right now was your honeymoon night and thankfully, Izuku was called away for business. Which both of you were happy for. Izuku was… hard to read. He was quiet, he didn’t look at you often, and he didn’t really express many emotions either. This was the curse of royalty, something your parents steered you away from. Becoming a stone statue, giving up your wants for the needs of your people.

You’d heard rumors that Izuku had fallen in love with a beautiful princess- some say she was a commoner- however, because of (k/n), he was forced to abandon her. The thought made your heart ache. You couldn’t imagine the pain he must’ve gone through, assuming the rumors were true. Of course, the only way to confirm the rumors was to ask him, but you just… couldn’t. You barely talked, even in a professional setting. How could you ask such a sensitive question?

You stood from your spot on the bed and walked towards the balcony. You opened the doors and stepped out, the cool breeze helped your hot face. Your eyes looked up at the sea of stars before looking down at the kingdom. You could see the beautiful lights and if you paid attention, you could hear the celebration of the united kingdoms.

You had 3 days to get acquainted with the castle before you were going to start on your duties to become (king/queen). Currently, your title was still (princess/prince) but once you’d learned the adequate knowledge about Toral, as Izuku would about (k/n), you would be able to become (king/queen). A proud ruler next to Izuku.

Who was Izuku? You… didn’t know. Toral wasn’t a kingdom that was shrouded in mystery like some others were, but it’s royal family was. Not much was known about the Midoriya’s, however, there weren’t many negative rumors, which was a good sign. Your predicament remained, you were now married to a man you knew nothing about. Even though he wasn’t a tyrant, you didn’t feel safe.

How were you supposed to rule a kingdom with someone you don’t know? How were you supposed to wake up next to someone you don’t know? How were… how was this marriage supposed to work?

You didn’t even have your parents to rely on and it hurt. You were completely alone in this new kingdom and you only had three days to adjust to all of this. Three short days.

You could see your own kingdom in the distance. Well… you could see the lights, but that was it. You missed it and wished you could just… run away. Jump down from the balcony and run home, just like in the story books. This was reality, though, and something like that would never happen.

You jumped, almost letting out a scream when you felt something fall onto your shoulders. You quickly grabbed it and sighed in relief when you saw it was just a blanket. You looked to the side to see Izuku leaning against the balcony, looking ahead at his kingdom.

“Wh-what-“

“You’ll catch a cold if you stand out here without one.” He answered curtly, without even looking at you.

“Oh, thank you.” You said, pulling the blanket around your shoulders some more. You hadn't even noticed you were cold. A silence fell between you two, and it was one you didn’t like. He didn’t really bother to make much conversation and he wasn’t even looking at you.

You snuck a glance at him, taking in his features. He had a boyish face, with dark green hair that almost looked blue under the moonlight. His green eyes seemed to hold something you couldn’t decipher in them, but they were beautiful. He was… handsome, you had to admit. That was one good thing about this, at least your husband was attractive.

“Um…” you started, unsure of what to say. Izuku finally looked over at you, his eyes meeting yours. “What do you think about this? The m-marriage, I mean.”

“It’s an alliance.” He responded, before looking away again. That’s all? That’s all he could give you?

“I mean how do you feel about this?”

“There’s nothing to feel. We’re married so our kingdoms could live in harmony and thrive together. The marriage is nothing else.” Ok, that hurt. You could feel the dread building up in your chest as you swallowed the lump in your throat. His cold response only made you want to cry even more. You held strong and nodded, unsure if he even saw it or not. You didn’t want him to see your tears, you didn’t want him to see you as someone weak.

As much as it hurt, he was right. Your marriage was nothing but a treaty, and there were no emotions attached to it. It was an ugly truth you had to come to terms with if you wanted to be able to move forward. You so desperately wanted to ask about that rumor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Before you knew it, Izuku was retreating back into your bedroom.

“It’s late and I’m tired. I’ll head to bed first.” Without waiting for your answer, he was gone. You only sighed as you looked up at the sky, the glittering stars that seemed so far away.

“Take me away from here…” you whispered, silently begging for a happier end.

***

When you woke up in the morning, Izuku wasn’t there. You’d heard from your personal butler that he was busy and had been woken up earlier than usual. You didn’t have any complaints, sleeping next to him was already hard enough.

The maid, Yana, offered to show you around the castle, which you graciously accepted. She showed you all the important rooms and locations. You’d even walked past Izuku’s study where you saw him busy with some documents and chose not to bother him.

“If I may,” Yana started, looking at you, “You don’t seem very happy for a person who just got married yesterday.” Unsure if you could trust her, you chose to lie this time, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Oh I am! I’m just still getting used to everything! It’s a really big change.” It was clear Yana didn’t buy it, but she didn’t press further on the subject. The last thing she wanted to do was offend the future ruler.

After showing you around, she led you back to your bedroom and went to go prepare some tea. You sat down on the couch in your room and sighed, looking around.

You only saw Izuku once all morning and you weren’t even able to talk to him. Was this going to be your marriage? Were you just going to talk to your husband in professional settings? Would you ever even be friends with him? That thought hurt, you weren’t even on friendly terms with the man you were sharing a bed with. You shook your head and tried to think about something else, your new position for example.

After these three days, you’d have classes for two weeks in which you’d learn everything you could about Toral. Their economy, their farmlands, their trades, and about other kingdoms they were allied with. Similarly, Izuku would learn everything he could about (k/n). Because of this, you would barely see Izuku for two weeks.

You frowned at your own thoughts. You seemed so obsessed with the king, it made you wonder if he thought about you. Did he often wonder what you were thinking? Did he often think about you? Last night, when he brought out the blanket for you, was he worried? Was there a chance for anything to form between you two? Or would this loveless marriage last for the rest of your life?

***

You were alone all day, except for the company of your attendant. You neither saw Izuku nor heard from him. You spent a couple hours on the balcony once again at night hoping for a change in your life before ultimately giving up and heading to bed.

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you’d caught a glimpse of Izuku laying down next to you before you’d gone back to sleep. Of course, when you woke up the next day, he was gone. Again. This continued on til the third and final day.

While you were getting ready for the day, you wondered if there was anything you could do to break the wall that stood between you and your husband.

“Hey Yana?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Are you bringing that tea to King Izuku?”

“I am, why?”

“Can I take it to him instead?” She immediately shook her head, her eyes widening.

“Oh no! I couldn’t trouble you! I’ll take it to h-“

“Please. I insist. I… don’t know any other way to interact with him…” you frowned, falling silent. What were you doing? You looked up at her, before speaking again. “Wh-what’s he like?” Yana smiled a little and sat next to you.

“King Izuku’s not all that bad, you know. He’s very kind and gentle. Unfortunately, because of his life as a prince, he’s been… forced to push personal matters down to focus on what’s best for his kingdom. He is very… quiet. He doesn’t talk much and he doesn’t seem very nice either, but I promise you. It’s only a matter of time before you see it. It’ll be hard not to fall in love.” You almost laughed at her words, looking away.

“Fall in love, huh? Seems… impossible.”

“You’re not wrong to think so. When the idea of marriage was brought up, I was there. His highness didn’t seem to even blink at the fact that he would be in a loveless marriage. But I know, deep down, he must’ve felt something. He just couldn’t say it.” You knew that feeling. You had the freedom to reject Toral, but chose to accept them instead. Izuku had done the same. You were more alike than you thought.

“He seems pretty cold-hearted.” Though you were afraid to offend Yana, you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking. Thankfully, Yana didn’t take it personally.

“He’s just shy. His shyness plus him pushing down his emotions makes him seem like that, but he’s not. He’s always believed in justice. He’s always wanted to be the reason people smiled. He’s definitely ready to be king, I’m sure overtime, he’ll be able to open up again. At least, I hope he does.”

Is that so? Izuku… wanted people to keep smiling? Seemed a little bit… odd given your interaction with him a couple of nights ago. Maybe there was more to him you had yet to see. As much as you disliked being in this marriage, you wanted it to work. You wanted to fall in love with him and you wanted to rule beside a man that you at least LIKED.

Taking a deep breath, you made an oath to yourself. You would do everything in your power to meet Izuku halfway.

***

“Come in.” A deep voice said, making you push the door open and walk in. Izuku was staring at some papers on his desk, looking back and forth between the ones in his hands as well. “Yana can you- oh.” He paused when he saw you, his emerald eyes widening a little.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to bring you your tea, myself.” You said, placing the tray on the desk, away from the documents.

“That’s alright, but why wouldn’t you want the maid to do it?” He inquired, placing the documents aside. You blinked at his question, expecting it but not having a definitive answer for it.

“I uh… um…” you sat down on the chair in front of the desk and tried to come up with a proper response. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“What?” Yeah… your mind said the same thing. What the hell were you talking about? Taking a deep breath, you tried to put your thoughts into discernible sentences.

“We… haven’t really talked, in general. Every time we’re together, it feels like an awkward silence. The only time we’ve had a lengthy conversation was when we were exchanging our vows.” You could see a frown forming on the king’s face as he looked down for a moment. However, he quickly reverted to his emotionless state.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I just assumed you wouldn’t want to talk to me.” That was news to you, but you didn’t even have to ask why he said that. It was his family that brought up the arranged marriage. He could always see that you didn’t like it, whether it was him or the situation, but your reluctance was as clear as day. You, yourself, didn’t bother to hide it.

Now it was your turn to frown, not realizing that Izuku was just trying to comfort you in anyway he could. To him, he’d practically held a sword to your throat and demanded a wedding, but that wasn’t true.

“That’s not it,” you clarified, meeting his bright green eyes. “I had the ability to reject the proposal but I chose to accept instead. All of my own accord.” Izuku really didn’t have an answer, but you saw something cross his eyes. Was that… sadness? Why would he be sad? You tried to tell him his assumptions weren’t true.

“I see…” was all he could say. You tried to keep your disappointment down as you poured him, and yourself, a cup of tea. After a moment of silence, you spoke up.

“What are you working on?”

“I wanted to build a bride over the Toral river. The river makes it harder for merchants to cross it. I thought it would make life easier for everyone who lives on the other side.” Well that was a rather noble cause. However, he looked overly stressed about this, even though it seemed like it was something simple. He’s the king, all he needs to do is demand the bridge be built, right?

“Why do you look so stressed though?” He looked up at you again, before writing something down on the document in hand

“That part of the land is owned by another noble. Unfortunately, he’s neither using it nor permitting us to build the bridge. I know for a fact life’s easier for him without the bridge, that’s why he keeps saying no.”

“What would he get out of not having the bridge?”

“He’s really just a greedy and selfish noble. Besides, the location where we want to build the bridge is pretty far off from his estate, so he doesn’t have that excuse.” However, after saying those words, Izuku froze. He fell deep into thought, his brows furrowing.

“Is everything ok?” You asked, slowly, not wanting to break his train of thought. He was silent for another moment, before he looked up at you.

“(Princess/Prince), if you had a land where your leading monarch wanted to build a bridge… Why would you say no? Even if you weren’t using the land.”

“Hmm… well I would only say no if I was using it. Maybe if I was doing something I didn’t want you to know about.” You nonchalantly responded, before your own eyes widened. “Do you think he’s doing something illegal on those lands?”

“He would. Why else would he be so adamant on keeping lands he doesn’t use. According to him, it’s land passed down for generations. If he truly isn’t doing anything on it, then wouldn’t his lack of activity be an insult?”

“I would think so. If he cares so much, he’d always do something on it. At least, take care of it.” For the first time, Izuku smiled at you. A real, genuine smile. He promptly stood up and grabbed some documents.

“I’m sorry for cutting this short, but I have an idea of what to do. However, to thank you for helping me through this, would you go on a date with me, later this evening? I believe it’s your last day to rest before you start work? And you have yet to see our city.” Your heart leapt in your chest as a smile came over your lips.

“I would love to, King Izuku.” The monarch smiled once again before leaving the room. You looked down at the cup of tea in front of you as you felt your cheeks warm up. A date, later today, with your husband. You didn’t hate the idea, you didn’t dread waiting, and in fact, you didn’t want to wait.

The entire day was spent hoping the time would come for when Izuku took you out on your little date.

***

“You look wonderful, (Princess/Prince).” Yana commented, her eyes looking over your form. You were wearing (a simple dress/jeans with a silk shirt). You’d changed out of the formal wear you had to wear around the castle into something more comfortable, while still showing off your noble status.

“Thank you,” you smiled, looking at yourself in the mirror. You could see the giddiness in your eyes, and you didn’t want to hide it. For the first time in years, especially since you got married, you were extremely happy. It felt so odd, but so good.

There was a knock at your door, pulling you from your thoughts. Yana quickly walked over and opened the door. You saw a smiling Hiro on the other side. He was an apprentice butler at the castle and he was doing a great job. He and Yana were good friends of yours, already.

“Ready, your highness?” You nodded as Yana waved to you before you followed Hiro downstairs to the foyer, where you saw Izuku waiting. He was talking to Noel, the Royal Guard Captain about something, before they both looked over and saw you. Both of them gave you a smile, which you returned.

“Are you ready?” Izuku asked, making you nod as you took his hand. He led you out to the carriage that awaited you two, helping you climb in first before getting inside, himself. You saw Noel get on his horse next to your carriage and all the way to the city, he followed beside you two.

“You look happy,” Izuku commented, looking at you. Your cheeks flushed red and you heard him chuckle as he looked out the window beside him. “Cute…” he muttered.

“Thank you so much for doing this, I hope it’s not too much.” You said, making him look back at you. You noted his gaze was much more gentle than before, which added to the hope building up in your chest.

“You’re my spouse, I was more than happy to do this. Besides, I needed a break from all that paperwork.” His words prompted a question you’d had for a while and this seemed like the perfect time to ask.

“You’ve been king since 18, correct?” Izuku nodded at your words before slightly leaning back to be a bit comfortable.

“Officially, yes. However, I have been helping my mother since I was 15. When my father fell ill, I often helped my mother with his portion of work. Of course, I myself, couldn’t sign off of anything since I was still a young child, but I helped her with all the documents. I would read them for her and give her a summary for it all, along with what I thought would be the proper decision. Sometimes, she took my views under consideration and sometimes she would trust my judgement.” Wow, he’s been working since he was a kid. He really was ready to be a king. He… never really had a childhood, but then again, you didn’t either.

You weren’t making decisions, but ever since you were young, you’d been training to take over the throne. After the age of ten, you were an extremely busy child and hopefully all that work would pay off. Tomorrow, you’d be learning everything you could about Toral so you could be (queen/king).

“That… must’ve been hard.” You said, barely above a whisper. His emerald eyes found yours and you saw something that broke your heart. You could see the loneliness.

“It’s… our job.” He responded, looking away from you and back out into the window. You’d seen Izuku before becoming a little acquainted with him and he never showed off his emotions. So, he must’ve willingly let you see what he felt and it made your heart sink.

***

“Wow, it’s beautiful out here.” You said as Izuku led you through the city. Toral’s cities were known for their vibrancy and beauty, and the stories were no lies.

“Thank you. As you know, we pride ourselves on our country’s natural beauty.” Izuku commented as he continued forward. You were currently holding onto his arm as the two of you walked, making you feel warm inside. You actually felt like you were a couple on a date. Your eyes traveled to the sky which was a mix of red, orange, and yellow. It was getting late, which meant you’d have to head back soon and that thought made you a little sad. You were having so much fun.

“Oh, King Izuku, what’s that?” You asked, gesturing to a dessert stand in the distance. He looked over, seeing the item you were talking about and smiled a little.

“Those are dragon cakes.” He said, making you look at him with wide eyes. He almost chuckled in amusement when he saw the excited expression you sent him.

“Dragon cakes? I’ve never heard of them!”

“They’re a Toral specialty. Don’t worry, no dragons were harmed in the creation of said dessert.” He said matter-of-factly, making you giggle as the two of you walked closer to the stand. The owner looked towards you and smiled brightly.

“King Izuku! (Prince/Princess) (f/n)! Welcome!”

“We’d like the dragon cakes please.” The man nodded, happily packing two boxes of the cakes as Izuku dropped a few silver coins onto the table as the man placed two spoons onto the top of your boxes.

“Thank you! Please come again!” As you two walked ahead, you looked back and smiled when you saw Noel and his men buying a couple of cakes too. How cute.

The two of you found a nice seat in front of a beautiful garden as you ate your cake. You eagerly opened the box and smiled at the beautiful mix of colors on the dessert. Quickly picking up a small piece, you placed it into your mouth and smiled at the taste. It was extremely sweet, the flavor bursting in your mouth.

“Like it?” Izuku asked with a smile, making you turn and quickly nod.

“I love it! It’s delicious!” He chuckled and turned to you as you took another bite. The wind ruffled his hair a little and the golden glow from the sun made him look like an angel.

“Does (k/n) have a special dessert?” He inquired, making you fall into thought for a moment. You hadn’t really left your country, so you weren’t too sure about what everyone else had, but you did have a very famous dessert.

“We have (dessert)! I’m not sure if other countries have it, but it’s very popular! Almost like a celebratory dessert, people often buy it on special occasions.”

“I’ve never had it before, so I’ll definitely have to try it.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice a little. “Do not tell Noel or Matsuo, they limit the amount of sweets I can have.” His childish tone made you burst out laughing and he feigned offense. “I’m being serious! Stop laughing!”

“I c-can’t help it! That’s so cute!” You said, leaning closer to him. The back of your hand, which held your spoon, pressed against your lips as you tried to stop laughing to no avail. Matsuo was his advisor and had been the previous king’s advisor. He was a rather strict man, but he was also kind and understanding.

“Keep that up and I’ll be using you as a means of distraction in my nightly escapades to the kitchen.” No way… you looked at Izuku with wide eyes and a big smile. He didn’t even bother to deny it!

“You steal candy from your own house?!” Your laughter increased and soon Izuku joined in. He couldn’t help it, your laugh was lovely and contagious. Just thinking about a cute little Izuku sneaking down to the kitchen to steal candy from his own house was just hilarious and so adorable. Especially as an adult, a king no less.

You looked over at the king, who’d almost seemed heartless the first night you spent together. He was… beautiful. His face and personality. Yana was right, he really wasn’t as cold as he acted. In fact, it didn’t seem like it was hard for Izuku to show his emotions. Life of nobility often brought situations where it wasn’t appropriate to show emotions, he probably just didn’t realize it was ok to turn that off when he was with you. As you watched his cheeks turn red from the laughter and the golden glow around him increase, you wished this moment would last an eternity.

How could you hide such a beautiful sight from the world? You thought as his musical laughter echoed around you.

***

Alas, your date had come to an end. The two of you returned home together, however, you went to your bedroom alone. Izuku had some work to do, but he promised to join you in an hour or so.

You had changed into your nightwear and sat down on the bed, when your eyes glanced outside of the window. Tonight was a full moon, yes?

You stood and walked to the balcony doors and opened them, stepping out into the cold night. You walked forward and stared out towards the city. Once again, the lights were shining bright and even now, the city looked so alive.

Your eyes moved up to see the gleaming stars winking at you and the bright moon smiling down. Tonight was different, though.

The first night you were here, all you could think about was someone stealing you away from this fate you’d chosen and regretted. Now… all you wished was to be with Izuku. Today was the first time you two had experienced each other in a natural setting. Izuku opened up about himself and you finally saw past the King. You finally saw the man named Izuku.

You wanted more of these nights. You wanted more dates where you could spend time getting to know Izuku or nights where you could just talk to him.

You smiled at the moon, the stars, and the city in the distance. You opened your mouth, speaking to no one in particular.

“I think… I’d like to stay here.” Your cheeks turned red when you thought about your husband and happiness flooded your chest when you thought back to his angelic laughter.

You liked Izuku, didn’t you? That was great news, you’d hoped he felt the same. If this kept up with you two, then you’d surely fall in love soon enough.

As your mind went on thinking about other date scenarios, you failed to notice a figure behind you. Just as before, something fell around your shoulders and you jumped, only to realize it was a blanket. You held the blanket closer and smiled to yourself.

“Don’t wanna catch a cold now, your majesty.” Your blood ran cold and you froze, the smile disappearing in an instant.

That wasn’t Izuku.

You turned frantically and saw a man with black hair and bright blue eyes, smiling at you.

“Wh-who are you?” Your voice was shaky and any attempt to make yourself sound confident failed miserably.

“Oh? I am no one you should worry your pretty little head over, my dear. How… is your relationship going with the king?” The bright moonlight reflected on something that sat on his waist… a sword? No… a gun.

“I-it’s great…” you answered as the man approached you, making you back up until you hit the rail behind you. He smelled… nice, actually. His scent was a mixture of a cologne with something floral, almost like roses but not quite.

“Has he brought up his old love, yet?” Oh… no, you hadn’t been able to bring up such a sensitive question up to him. Not yet.

“N-no…”

“Worry not, your majesty, I will inform you on the subject.” He said with a smile, which sent shivers down your spine. “King Izuku had met a lovely dame in the city once. It was a day off, something that’s rare for him, when he decided to visit the lovely town. He had managed to escape from Noel and the other guards when he ran into a woman. She was carrying flowers in a basket. The collision caused the two to fall to the ground, her over him. It was a rather romantic scene where the woman quickly apologized but the king only laughed. Love at first sight, would you believe it?

Eventually, the two couldn’t stay apart. Izuku visited her as much as he could, even going so far as to sneak out of the castle. The two would meet for over two years like this before they finally confessed. That’s when the king bedded the innocent maiden, both of them promising each other their hearts and bodies. They would belong to each other no matter the outcome of their lives.” His blue eyes met yours again, and he smiled brightly at the anguish he saw on your face.

“I-it's all j-just a rumor…” you whispered, as the tears started to well up in your eyes. The man leaned down and whispered into your ear.

“Is it, your highness?” Your gaze fell to the floor as the tears slowly rolled down your cheeks.

“... No…” He laughed a little, pulling away and taking your face in his hands. You wanted to slap his hands away. You wanted to shove him off of you. You wanted to get away. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to even think properly, your legs were frozen, your hands were shaking, so you just let him do as he pleased.

His warm fingers wiped away your oncoming tears and he put on a frown, but you could see the amusement in his eyes.

“Your majesty, I can take you away from all of this. You need only ask.” Before you could say anything, your bedroom door burst open and you saw an extremely furious Izuku.

“(F/N)! YOU GET AWAY FROM HER!” The man made a displeased face and shoved you forward as a distraction before jumping off the balcony. Izuku caught you before you hit the ground, holding you close to him protectively as he glared in the direction the man had gone.

“King Izuku?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, as you looked up at him.

“Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?” You shook your head, making his glare soften. He sighed as he wiped away the tears that were still sliding down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I was late.” You buried your face in his chest and clung to his shirt as he gently ran his hands through your hair to calm you down.

***

Noel and the other guards searched the castle grounds numerous times but weren’t able to find anything. One good piece of news was that they knew of the man, everyone did, especially Izuku. His name was Dabi and he was a well-known thief and bounty hunter. It was odd that Dabi would come to you, you neither had a bounty on your head nor were you really of value, yet. Dabi refused to steal anything that wasn’t worth any value.

Izuku stayed with you all night, trying to help you sleep but failed. You were too scared and your tears wouldn’t stop. Of course, Izuku thought it was because you were scared, but that wasn’t necessarily true. Yes, you were terrified, but you were hurt. This woman… and Izuku promised their hearts and bodies to each other, no matter the outcome? Meaning… Even now when Izuku was technically married to you, he wasn’t yours nor did it seem like he planned on becoming yours.

Why did that hurt so much? You barely knew each other and just earlier today you were saying it was impossible to fall in love with him. Yet here you were, heartbroken? Were you starting to fall for him? Even so, with such little time, why were you so hurt? Sure, even if you had a crush… it shouldn’t feel like this.

Izuku laid next to you, running his hand through your hair, trying his best to soothe you. He even had some tissues nearby to wipe your tears. Hiro had brought you both some tea earlier, to help you calm down and sleep. However, it didn’t help. You weren’t able to drink much and all you could think about was the words Dabi had said to you.

“Will you let me hold you, (princess/prince)?” Izuku inquired softly. You both had kept a good distance from each other in bed and even now, he’d reached across to your side to pat your head. Your eyes met and all you could see was what Dabi told you, yet your body moved all on its own. You nodded and scooted closer, to which he opened his arms and pulled you into him.

He was so warm and just the sensation of his arms around you was enough to drive your tears away. Dabi’s words returned to your mind for the umpteenth time, but… you didn’t care. Not this time. You closed your eyes as you leaned into him, letting him take away all your worries. So what if Izuku promised his heart and body to someone else? Yours belonged to him, regardless.

***

The next morning Matsuo suggested you take another day off to recover from the fright the previous night, but you refused, saying you preferred to start your lessons instead. Yana, Hiro, and even Izuku opposed your idea, but you’d made up your mind.

Your lessons weren’t very hard, it was just a matter of memorization. Toral had a rather rich history and for the most part, you loved to hear all about it. Your teacher was a bureaucrat named Mirio Togata that worked closely with King Izuku at times. With the insight your instructor provided, you were able to understand how Toral came to be such a powerful kingdom with it’s flourishing economy and numerous allied countries.

It was nothing less than impressive. Thanks to Mirio, you were also able to learn more about Izuku and the Midoriya family, including where your place would be. One of the things you learned, which couldn’t have made you happier, was that you weren’t expected to provide an heir. Toral’s nobility had a history of adopting and you were no exception. However, you would need someone to succeed the throne at some point, which you were ok with.

The entire day was exhausting and all you did was spend it with Mirio as he taught you everything you needed to know. Around 8 pm, your lessons came to an end for the day. You were in your room with Hiro, who, of course, made you some tea and even had snacks ready for you. Ever since the incident, you weren’t allowed to be alone. For the most part, Hiro accompanied you everywhere, but Noel also carried that duty. Whenever you left the castle, even if you were just walking around the gardens, Noel followed you. Every time you moved about the castle, there was a knight or two nearby.

Everyone, especially Izuku, was on high alert. You weren’t allowed to be alone, not even for a second. Unfortunately, since Dabi was able to sneak into the castle, the castle wasn’t the safest place. Both Hiro and Yana had plenty of combat experience to guard you, and since you were friends, that made the bothersome experience tolerable.

“Are you ok, your highness?” You blinked and looked over at a worried Hiro, quickly giving him a smile.

“Yes, I’m ok. Just thinking.” You answered as you picked up your cup and sipped the tea. Hiro nodded, not wanting to press further.

“King Izuku should be here in about an hour. He prefers to be around you when it’s late. I hope you don’t mind.” You shook your head and smiled.

“Not at all, I appreciate it.” Of course, the entire day all you could think about was this “innocent maiden” that the king had fallen in love with. Who was she? What was she like? Was she pretty? Strong? Talented? Was she better than you?

Thoughts of her made focusing on what Mirio said extremely difficult. You did your best to push down any insecurities but how could you? Why couldn’t you? You barely knew Izuku but here you were, ridiculously messed up.

From the story, it was clear that King Izuku couldn’t be with her, so were you just a replacement? Maybe that’s why he accepted the proposal, he didn’t want anyone but her but he couldn’t have her. The thought brought an intense ache in your heart. Were you… just a replacement? Why? Sure, he may have loved that woman but… he could love you too, right?

You could feel the pain spread to your chest and you looked down as the tears returned. God, you were so weak. You really couldn’t get a hold of yourself, could you?

“Y-Your highness!” Hiro exclaimed, rushing to you when he saw your tears. He knelt in front of you and frowned. “Why are you crying?” Your eyes met his bright blue ones and you mulled over your thoughts. Could you tell him? Could Hiro be trusted with this information?

“Hiro. Tell me about the rumors about the king falling in love with another woman.” He looked taken aback, but nodded, regardless. It wasn’t like he could refuse someone crying the way you were.

“Even we haven’t been able to confirm whether the rumors are true,” Hiro said, swallowing hard, “the rumor is that King Izuku met the woman in town on his day off. They collided into one another and fell in love at first sight. King Izuku would sneak out to meet her and when he wanted to marry her, he was rejected. Both Queen Inko and King Hisashi we’re against it, so they weren’t able to get married.

Other rumors say she was a criminal. The woman, that’s why they couldn’t be together. I’ve known King Hisashi and Queen Inko since I was a child and I know they wouldn’t reject someone King Izuku loved, no matter her status. Which is why the first story is also not very plausible.

The third rumor is that she was a princess and she was already meant to marry someone else. In the two years they spent together, they fell deeply in love but in the end, they had to part. She wouldn’t let go, saying she couldn’t live with her heart and body belonging to a man she didn’t love. So, to do the only thing he could, king Izuku claimed her body and heart, saying that now they were with someone she did love.” Hiro fell silent after the story, indicating he was done talking. You were silent as well, thinking about what he said. Ok… so that was romantic, even though you hated it

The last rumor matched what Dabi has said with one difference. The commoner was a princess already engaged to someone else. Your (e/c) eyes met Hiro’s and you opened your mouth to speak.

“Do you think there’s any truth to the rumors?” He looked down with a clouded expression, clearly not wanting to upset you. However, at the same time, he also didn’t want to lie to you.

“I… I’m not sure. But I do know there was a period of two years where King Izuku would regularly sneak out of the castle. He always returned home with a single flower. Usually a rose.”

“How do you know?”

“I would help him. I would make excuses for him so he wouldn’t get caught. Thankfully, neither did I.” So, it was true. As you fell deeper in thought, Hiro’s voice pulled you out again. “You know, (prince/princess), it’s best if you ask him, yourself. All of these stories are rumors, they could have no truth to them whatsoever.”

He had a point. Dabi could’ve been lying, telling you one of the more popular rumors. The rumors were so widespread, even you’d heard of them in your country. But Hiro was right, they could’ve been false, yet you were here getting so worked up over them.

You sighed and placed your cup of tea down as you munched on one of the snacks Hiro had brought. Was it ok to ask king Izuku such a sensitive question? I mean, even if it was such a personal question, he wouldn’t mind answering knowing how much it bothered you, right?

But at the same thing, asking him felt so… embarrassing and scary. What if he got angry or what if he confirmed the rumors true? What then? At least right now, it was all speculation. You could pretend they were all just fake stories, but once he’d confirm the truth, what would be left to deny? Was it better to stay in the dark?

You were pulled from your thoughts and your head snapped to the door when it opened. You saw King Izuku enter and look at you with a tired smile. Immediately, your heart began to race and you became restless.

“Hello.” He greeted you two as Hiro bowed, before silently leaving. “How are you?” Izuku joined you on the couch, sitting right next to you. He reached out and took a small cookie from the plate in front of you.

“I’m fine.” Although you didn’t stutter, your voice was strained and you were sure he heard it too.

“Please don’t push yourself.” He said and took your hand. “I don’t want you to overdo it.” You nodded, letting him hold your hand. Even if he was already someone else’s, the warmth you felt from his hand eased your burdens.

“I won’t.”

***

It had been about a week since the Dabi incident and he was nowhere to be found. Of course, naturally, the security wasn’t as strict and you were finally able to breathe and have some time alone. Constantly being followed was more exhausting than you thought it would be. However, now you were able to rest easy.

It didn’t last long, however. As you sat in your bedroom eating the snacks Hiro had brought, you saw a figure on the balcony. No way…

Dabi looked back at you and smiled, making you gulp nervously as you slowly approached the doors. He knew about this other girl. Maybe he could tell you more. Hopefully curiosity wasn’t about to kill this cat.

“It’s you,” you said, making his smile widen, “you’re Dabi.”

“So you remember me, doll. It’s an honor.” You were hesitant, but you pushed the words out anyway.

“Tell me more about the woman King Izuku fell in love with.”

“Of course, your majesty. Anything for our future ruler.” You invited Dabi inside, not wanting him to get caught before he finished the story. Even though he’d attacked you last time, your curiosity was too strong to call for help. You wanted to know more about this woman and you couldn’t bring it up to Izuku, no matter how much you tried. So, he was your best option.

“She’s said to hail from your kingdom,” Dabi started, making your eyes widen a little. “The commoner. The current rumor is that King Izuku married you in hopes to search your kingdom for her.” Ouch.

“What does he hope to do when he finds her?” You asked, your voice cracking with anxiety.

“What else? A king can have his harem or even a concubine. If anything, he could declare her his mistress and you’d be powerless to do anything.” Ok, sure king Izuku COULD do that, be he wouldn’t. He… he wasn’t like that. You hadn’t known king Izuku that long, but this just seemed so uncharacteristic. However, what would king Izuku do once he found her? This innocent maiden he fell for.

“I…” you had tried to say something, but were unable to. What could you say? This rumor was worse than the others. Was your husband truly using you to find a woman he was so madly in love with? What would he do once he found her? Tears welled up in your eyes again. You didn’t even bother holding them back as they slid down your cheeks. Dabi smiled as he leaned closer.

“Give it time, your highness. When he breaks your heart, I’ll come and steal you away.” You looked up, meeting his sapphire eyes. The pain in your heart just increased at his words and you found yourself speaking before you could stop to think.

“Promise?” You choked, making him reach out and wipe a stray tear. More followed in its wake, however.

“Of course. You’ll be of value then.” Right, he only stole things of value, and by then you’d no doubt be (king/queen). You only nodded as Dabi stole a biscuit and walked towards the balcony. “See you later, doll.” With that, he disappeared into the night, leaving you alone to wallow in your thoughts.

***

It had been a little over a week since your talk with Dabi. You hadn’t seen or heard from him again and from the way everyone was acting, it was obvious they hadn’t seen him.

The time was getting closer for you to be crowned (king/queen) next to king Izuku and you hated it. You hated it more than you did the first day you found out about this wedding. Recently, your husband had been extra busy in (k/n). You weren’t sure and he didn’t tell you much, but you could assume why. It must’ve been her.

You were back to sleeping on your own and you felt that wall between yourself and Izuku standing tall. You were too busy with your lessons to properly sit your husband down to ask about why he was going to your country so much.

“Are you alright, your highness?” You blinked and saw Mirio’s face peering down at you with concern.

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry.” He smiled, sympathetically.

“How about a break then? I think you’ve been working extremely hard, recently and you need to take it easy.” He smiled, as he poured some tea for you. You graciously took it and sipped at it.

“Mirio, do you know what king Izuku’s doing in (k/n)?”

“Word is he’s searching for something.” You had to keep yourself from sighing. So it was true after all. He really is looking for his innocent maiden. You couldn’t compete, there was just no way. “Why do you look so sad, your highness?” You looked up at Mirio, trying to think of the words. It took a moment but you found them.

“I want something and I can’t have it. So I’m sad.” He frowned at your words and looked down at his cup of tea. A (king/queen)-to-be wanted something they couldn’t have? Seemed impossible.

***

You sighed as you fell back on your bed, your eyes glued onto the beautiful ceiling. The days were so beautiful but you weren’t able to enjoy them. You missed the one date you had with king Izuku. You missed the happiness you felt because recently, all you felt was loneliness and dread.

Just when you thought you were getting closer to the man you married, it turns out you were wrong. You thought that wall had fallen, but it never did. You were merely too far away to even see it. Izuku could never love you the way you’d come to love him. That was the harsh reality you needed to accept.

The door opened, making you jump a little and you saw your husband. He was finally back? From the looks of it, he didn’t find her.

If you were going to be married to him for the rest of your life, assuming Dabi stealing you away would fail, you at least wanted to know the truth. You’d finally felt you had enough courage to ask and you no longer cared if the time was right or not.

While you sat there thinking, Izuku quickly changed out of his suit and returned to you.

“You’re still up? It’s late, you should rest. I’ve heard from everyone you’ve been so busy I don’t want you-“

“Why have you been going into (k/n)?” You asked, interrupting him. He was clearly taken aback but shrugged it off. You hadn’t meant to sound so harsh and uncaring, but you couldn’t change it now.

“I’ve been looking for something, why?” Alright, so he WAS looking for something.

“King Izuku… I want you to tell me about those rumors. About you falling in love with someone.” He nodded without hesitation.

“Of course. Tell me all you’ve heard.” You inhaled before explaining everything you’d been told, making sure to leave out the names of your sources. Izuku quietly listened to every last word and could see your frustration building up. He found it almost too adorable. However, that feeling went away when he saw the tears.

“If… you’re looking for her, I’d like to know.” You felt as if you’d been rather harsh, but who could blame you?

“Well, (prince/princess), there is no truth to any of those rumors.” You froze, staring at him. Was he lying?

“Well what about sneaking out regularly for 2 years? Coming back with flowers?” He smiled a little and shook his head.

“I did sneak out often but that was because I loved going to the city. I was always busy so whenever I could, I would sneak out of the house. The flowers were from a nice old lady who figured out I was the prince. She was such a sweetheart and always gave me candy with a rose.” Oh. “If anything, your highness, the “maiden” in the story is you.”

“What?” He chuckled at your obvious confusion. Ok now you looked even more adorable than before.

“It was nothing as serious as the rumors claim. I was visiting your country and it happened to be your 18th birthday. I saw you on the balcony with your parents. The entire kingdom was celebrating. I didn’t fall in love at first sight, but I thought you were absolutely beautiful and I couldn’t take my eyes off of you for a second. After that day, I couldn’t get your face out of my head. I was actually pretty desperate to meet you,” he admitted with a chuckle as your face turned shades off red. “That’s why when I was told I could marry you, I wanted to.

I didn’t expect it to work, actually. We barely knew each other. I just thought I’d at least be able to meet you and talk to you. Maybe it would put my heart to ease, a little. And to answer your previous question, I’ve been looking for a well known jeweler. There is a ring I wanted her to make, and I wanted to give you that ring instead.”

“A-another ring?” He nodded with a bright smile and took your left hand, his finger brushing against the ring.

“When I gave this to you, it symbolized unity between our countries. That’s all… but the one I was planning on having made will be a symbol of my love for you.”

“L-love!?” Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed red at his words. He only nodded, lifting your hand to his lips and kissing them.

“Yes. I love you. It didn’t take very long… but I’m in love with you, (prince/princess) (f/n).”

To say you felt like an idiot would be an understatement. You’d been stressing over a story that wasn’t even real! If anything, it was about you! Your cheeks burned red at the thought of Izuku loving you and only you.

“Oh? Are you blushing?” He asked, leaning in close. Your cheeks only got redder as your embarrassment surfaced.

“St-stop teasing, king Izuku.”

“I should’ve mentioned this before but we’re married now, you don’t have to use formalities.” He smiled, as his hand found its way to your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into the warmth before you felt something soft on your lips.

This was your second kiss with him and it was definitely better than the first. You could feel the passion he poured into the kiss and it made your heart race.

You immediately melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulled you onto his lap, deepening the kiss. A small sigh left your lips, making his arms tighten around your waist. He pulled away and looked up at you a little.

“Oh, if you keep that up, your highness, I won’t be able to hold back.” He whispered, his lips meeting yours again. The kiss was much more heated, but you responded with just as much fervor. Slowly, his soft lips trailed down your neck. You closed your eyes and let the warmth spread through your body, as the excitement caused tingles.

Your hands raked through his fluffy green tuft and as his lips kissed your neck. You felt a pinch for a second before he moved his way down to your chest. He dropped you down onto the bed, crawling over you and staring down at your flustered form.

The look in his eyes drove you up a wall. So far you’d only seen Izuku as emotionless and adorable… but you’d never seen THAT look in his eyes.

“(F/n). Will you give me your heart and body?” You nodded without hesitation, as he leaned down and claimed your lips before he’d claim all of you.

***

“I present to you… (KING/QUEEN) (F/N)!” The kingdom roared with applause, causing you to smile brightly. Ever since Izuku cleared up the rumors, you’d never felt happier. In a sense, the rumors were true. You had been the innocent “maiden” he’d fallen in love with and had claimed your body and heart, while giving you his own.

You smiled as you stood next to your husband, waving to everyone. You saw your parents and Inko standing to the side, waving back. Your parents would step down as rulers of (k/n) so you and Izuku could take their place and they couldn’t have been happier. The ring on your finger was a reminder of the love you both shared. Something you wouldn’t give up for the world.

***

“Still need to be stolen, (king/queen) (f/n)?” You smiled as you turned around and saw Dabi standing behind you with a smirk. The celebration had ended and you were by yourself, once again, at your balcony.

“I’ll be disappointing you tonight, Dabi.” He only smiled as he stood next to you and leaned against the railing.

“I think I’m ok with that, this time.” He mumbled, looking ahead at the large city. You were smiling before your brows furrowed and you turned to him.

“You lied to me about the rumors.” He chuckled and looked at you, his bright blue eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Hey, I never said they were true.” You scoffed and shook your head, glaring at him a little.

“I was so upset, Dabi!” He smirked and little and leaned in close to you, his fingers pushing a lock of your hair away from your face. You froze a little, not expecting something like this to happen. His cold, slender fingers slid down to your neck, brushing up against it. You shivered at the sensation, looking away a little.

“Oh? Keep that up, your majesty and I might just steal you for myself.”

“Dabi…” you mumbled, looking back at him.

“Oh right, you’re already taken. This mark proves it.” Your eyes widened and your face flushed a deep red, making Dabi throw his head back and laugh. You had a hickey this whole time?!! Who all saw it?!

“D-Dabi!” You exclaimed, smacking his arm. But you couldn’t deny the smile that made its way to your face. Yeah, you belonged to Izuku and that mark proved it.

“You know what, (king/queen) (f/n), call me whenever you need me. I’ll work for you and ONLY you.” You tilted your head, a curious expression on your face. Dabi was a thief… why would he say that?

“Why? I haven’t done anything.” He shook his head at your words.

“You make me laugh. You’re amusing and I like being around you. Call me whenever you need me. Whether it be stealing a relic or stealing you away from this kingdom.” He gave you a wink before hopping off the balcony and disappearing into the night. What an oddball.

With a smile, you looked up at the sea of stars. Deja vu. You giggled and closed your eyes, whispering to yourself.

“Please let me stay here… please let me be with him.” You felt something fall around your shoulders, and your eyes shot open.

“You’ll catch a cold if you stand out here without one.” Izuku said, with a smile. You giggled and leaned into his arms as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I love you, Izuku.” You said, leaning your head on his chest as you stared out at the city in the distance.

“I love you too, (f/n).”

#mha #mha imagines #mha deku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bnha izuku #izuku x reader #midoirya izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha midoriya #bnha #bnha deku #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fantasy au

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self-shipyard · 3 years

Text

"I Will (Pt. 4): The Ceremony" - A Self-Ship Wedding Fic

SYNOPSIS: The final part of a special, four-part fic in which, after what felt like forever, the ceremony finally begins.

Word Count: 1770

CW: Wedding Fluff, Emotional Bursts, Crying

Tag List: @guthound, @danieladimitrescu, @puppyships, @ava-ships, @awesomedanganronpaconfessions, @sinners-call-me-baby, @reigenhusband, @that-autistic-team-skull-grunt, @noellojello, @somethingscarlet13, @spookymasonjar, @vanityloves, @valor-selfships

Note: I left an extra something at the bottom of this work. I will likely post it separately later on, but for now, I hope you enjoy the final leg of the journey. And thank you for coming along with us. ❤

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Everyone in the chapel watched quietly as Pesci skipped a little down the aisle and scattered white rose petals along the aisle, being careful not to step on any of them on his way over.

Ghiaccio watched him too, with all the intensity of a hawk.

It wasn't something he could help; Pesci's presence meant for certain that Lumaca could walk in at any minute now, and that made his heart somehow race even faster.

Any minute now, the love of his life will be marrying him.

Any minute now…

Pesci passed by the front of the altar, making sure to give the groom a smile and a thumbs-up gesture before taking his place, which was next to Risotto, who was sure to give him a little pat on the back for a job well done, and behind Melone, who quickly noticed how even tenser Ghiaccio had become.

“Take some breaths, Ghiaccio,” he whispered to him. “We don’t need you passing out right in front of God and everyone, alright?”

Ghiaccio turned and gritted his teeth at his attempt at humor.

“I’m not going to pass out,” he whisper-shouted back. “I’m not just going to forget how to breathe because of my nerves, damn it.”

“Well see… Just keep your breath steady, alright?”

“I…” he gulped in an attempt to steady his emotions. “I’ll try… But-.”

“All rise for the entrance of the bride,” the pastor’s voice suddenly filled the chapel.

Ghiaccio’s head instantly whipped around to face the door, eyes widened and beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

The brief moment of silence that followed as everyone focused on the entryway did nothing to ease his nerves. What was in turn a few seconds felt like long hours to him. It dawned on him that his entire world really was about to change, and it couldn’t seem to happen fast enough.

At long last, the doors drifted opened.

In the doorway stood Lumaca, her right arm linked into Prosciutto’s left, and her left-hand clutching onto the bouquet of white roses. Her dress just barely touched the floor and her veil shrouded her face, though it wasn’t hard to see that her eyes were on the ground, as though she were bracing herself.

Everyone in the room felt a sense of awe upon seeing the bride, but none so more than the groom did. In that moment, he even forgot how to breathe.

As she made her way down the aisle, she looked up to meet his gaze from across the room, and time held its breath for them.

If gazes could speak, theirs would tell the whole world of how in love with each other they felt. Theirs would tell those memories they held so fondly. Theirs would tell how their souls had been craving this even before they met.

They held that gaze up until she was in arms reach of him. This was when he stretched out his hand to her and she took it into her own hand, releasing herself from the arm of her father figure at the same time.

There they stood facing the altar, hand in loving hand.

The pastor walked to his place in front of them, the ceremonial script in his hands. As soon as everyone had taken their seats once again, he opened the script book and began to read from it

“Dearly beloved,” he began. “Friends, family, fellow man… We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two spirits. Today, two hearts will become one in the act of matrimony…”

The words faded into the background for the bride and the groom.

They were too lost in each other’s eyes to really notice what was being said. In comparison to the pastor’s voice, the love that they felt between them was loud and joyous even though there was only a calm, understanding quietness between them. It was even so loud that it deafened Prosciutto’s voice as he read through the ceremony reading, though they could hear each word within their hearts.

“A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we’re pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we’re safe in our own paradise…”

After letting the last word echo throughout the room, Prosciutto gave a short bow and returned to the bride’s side of the altar with the bridesmen. Lumaca briefly came out of her lovesick trance to give him a little smile that he was quick to return.

Sorbet held out his hand so he could hold on to her bouquet for the next part.

“Thank you,” the pastor said. “Will the bride and the groom face one another for the pledge of intent?”

Now it was Ghiaccio’s turn to come out of his trance. When he heard those words, he blinked and made a low, started noise before quickly facing his bride with his hands enveloping hers.

She faced him too, eyes locked onto his and fingers stroking at his palm as an act of reassurance.

The pastor looked down at his script, pausing for a second to read the names of the couple. Their real names were there, though according to the notes, they had requested to be called “Lumaca” and “Ghiaccio” for the verbal parts of the ceremony. Confused, but not deterred, he continued.

“Ghiaccio ,” he addressed the groom. “Do you take Lumaca to be your lawfully wedded wife, to share your life openly, standing with her in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, in hardships and in ease, to cherish and love forever more? If so, say I will.”

Without any hesitation, he responded, “I will.”

“Lumaca ,” the pastor turned to the bride next. “Do you take Ghiaccio to be your lawfully wedded husband, to share your life openly, standing with him in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, in hardships and in ease, to cherish and love forever more? If so, say I will.”

She was also quick to respond with “I will.”

With a subtle hand motion, the pastor gestured for Sorbet and Melone to present the rings to the pair, who both turned to their respective person to take hold of their spouse’s beautifully crafted piece of silver.

“Now,” he announced. “The bride and the groom will present their vows and rings to one another.”

Taking that as his cue, Ghiaccio held out his left hand to her with the ring cradled in his right. As soon as she slipped her left hand into it, he looked into her eyes. She could feel his hand tremble and could see his eyes had become misty.

He took a deep breath and began to recite his vows.

“I will always spend every moment with you, because every second lives in my heart. I will always nurse you back to health, because I live to see you thrive. I will always celebrate your victories, because you are my greatest pride. I will always give you my shoulder to cry on, because I want to be your rock. I will always try to make you smile, because it lights up my whole world. I will always cherish you as my…”

He paused, his breath hitching softly.

“I will always cherish you as my… wife, because… Because-!”

Suddenly, Ghiaccio’s body hunched over and his forehead pressed against her knuckles.

She froze as a worried pang clenched at her heart. This worry was shared with the observing crowd, causing small gasps and murmurs. However, before she could say or do anything, the room fell silent as his voice let out a choked sob. She felt his tears landing against her hand.

It made the tears she had been trying to hold back for so long started to roll down her cheeks.

After a quiet moment of sobbing, he lifted his head back up to look at her. His lips trembled and his face had turned red. Tears still streamed down his face, but he swallowed down his sobs and gave her a soft smile.

“Because you are the one who completes me…”

She covered her mouth with the back of her right hand, letting it get wet with her tears as she used it to quiet her sobs and hold his ring at the same time. That’s all she could do as he carefully slipped the ring onto her left hand.

Hesitantly, she pulled her left hand away and turned it over for him to place his own left hand on top of, which he did while the rest of his tears fell.

Now it was her turn to say her vows. Never once taking her eyes off of him, she took a breath and started to say them.

“Your love is like a lighthouse; it protects me and guides me through the dark. So, I promise to be your keeper; I will always care for you and keep your light shining. Your heart is like fire; burning wildly and spreading your flames into mine. So, I promise to be your water; I will always ease your heart's flame when it gets too high. Your soul is like the ocean waves; you hold many beautiful wonders to show me. So, I promise to be your boat; I will always belong to you and bring your beauty to the light."

She closed her eyes for a brief second, sniffling and letting more tears fall from her eyes. Her voice broke as she finished her vows.

"You are my muse and my motivation… you inspire me even when my hope is lost. So, I… I promise to be your wife; I will always love you and treasure you."

He watched her, eyes wide and filled with tears. He bit down on his lip to stop himself from weeping, which he almost broke down to do the second he felt her slip the silver ring onto his left finger.

Their hands enveloped into each other, their palms feeling the rings on each other’s finger.

“By the power vested in me,” the pastor announced. “And by those in witness of their union, I pronounce you as man and wife.”

Warm smiles spread across their lips and their eyes shone with joyful tears.

At last...

“Congratulations. You may kiss.”

...

#❄soft snow (lumaghia)❄#⛵sal's writing #❄soft snow wedding❄#self ship #self shipping #self shipping content #self shipping community #romantic f/o #self ship wedding

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hysterialevi · 3 years

Text

Hjarta | Chapter 18

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

THE NEXT MORNING

SIGURD’S CHAMBERS

Eivor pried his eyes open to a slit, immediately squinting in the sunlight that hit his face.

His fingers twitched with movement as his body returned to a state of consciousness, and his dreams vacated the stage that once sat in his mind. A subtle itch tickled the surface of his skin due to the strands of hair that dangled in front of his nose, and out of the corner of his eye, Eivor could see lingering smoke trailing from the dead embers of a torch once set aflame.

It was a calm morning, despite the mournful nature of the clan. A light breeze traveled swiftly throughout the empty halls of the longhouse, and distant chatter could be heard from the villagers who had already risen. It was the start of an ordinary day, and yet, Eivor had no motivation to see it through.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about Thora and Ulfar.

Even though he managed to distract himself for a while with Sigurd’s company, the pain was inevitably sinking back in, and it felt as if a boulder had planted itself on top of his chest.

There was no way to fill the new absence stalking his every move; no way he could ever see Thora or Ulfar again. Both of them were gone, and he had been left behind. He was stuck in this realm with nothing but the memories of those he had lost, and the only thing that could help him was the hope of putting Kjotve down for good.

Thankfully, Eivor wasn’t completely alone just yet.

Resting gently over his hip, the young man felt the weight of Sigurd’s arm pressing down on him like a protective shield, holding him close in a world that was constantly trying to separate them. His breath kissed the back of Eivor’s neck at a steady pace, and a soothing warmth surrounded their bodies due to the blankets barricading them from the cold.

It was surprising to see that Sigurd hadn’t taken his leave, Eivor thought. Part of him had been expecting the prince to vanish like he did on the day of the wedding, and yet, he was here, keeping him company without any worry of judgement. His mind remained buried under dreams of war and mayhem, and his eyelids fluttered with the vivid images that flashed in his head.

He looked to be at peace, despite the turmoil brewing inside him. His expression was devoid of any usual disturbances, and Eivor’s comforting presence only helped to bring him more solace.

In addition to the relief Eivor felt upon seeing Sigurd however, the young man also couldn’t ignore the guilt he carried for taking the prince away from Randvi.

Gods only knew what that woman was going through right now. In a single day, she had lost both her blood-sister and father figure -- and unlike Eivor -- she had to deal with the pain alone.

She didn’t have anyone in her chambers to provide her with company or a shoulder to lean on, and Eivor began to wonder if he should’ve been ashamed of himself for robbing her of that.

Perhaps it was a mistake to stay with Sigurd for the night. Perhaps he should’ve simply gone to the temple like he planned, and left the prince to his own devices. Maybe then, Randvi wouldn’t be forced to endure all this grief alone. Eivor may have cherished every moment he spent with Sigurd, but he didn’t wish to do it at the expense of his sister’s well-being.

It was Randvi that Sigurd was supposed to be with, after all. And Eivor couldn’t help but question the morality of what he was doing.

“...Eivor...?” The older man suddenly murmured, causing the Wolf-Kissed to glance over his shoulder.

He came face-to-face with a pair of heavy-lidded eyes, and smiled faintly upon hearing the man’s words.

“Good morning, love.” Eivor said, rolling onto his side. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Sigurd chuckled, though it came out more like a grunt due to the sleep that still fogged his mind.

“...You didn’t wake me up. Truth is, I barely slept. My dreams were plagued with nothing but nightmares. I hope you had a better night.”

“I’d be lying if I said I did. All I could think about was Thora and Ulfar. About how they died.”

“I know what you mean. I can’t stop thinking about Dag either. It’s been hours since he first went silent, and yet... his final words refuse to leave me. It’s like he’s still here, berating me for everything I’ve done. Every time I close my eyes, my dreams take me back to the Tears of Ymir. Part of me feels as if I never left.”

Eivor snuggled up in Sigurd’s embrace, bringing himself closer to the other man.

“...We will get through this, love.” He reassured. “I know it wasn’t easy, but you gave us a chance at victory when you slew the traitor. Now, Kjotve has no allies within our walls. He’s completely by himself. And we have his son as a prisoner. We still have hope of winning this war... and it’s thanks to you.”

Sigurd raised a hand to Eivor’s cheek, gently caressing it with the back of his knuckles.

“I hope you’re right. The last thing I want is for all our sacrifices to be in vain. We can’t accept defeat now. Not when we’re so close.” The prince sat up from the bed, causing his hair to slip from his shoulders. “But for now, let’s simply focus on honoring our dead. There are many farewells that need to be said before we take things further with Gorm, and I’d like to see Dag off on his journey to Hel. He may have been a traitor, but even he doesn’t deserve abandonment in death.”

Eivor’s mood soured at the mention of Dag’s name. In spite of his agreement to granting the man a place at the funeral, he couldn’t help but feel contempt for him after everything he and Gorm did to Thora.

“Do you think Dag would’ve done the same for you?” Eivor questioned.

Sigurd hesitated, not failing to notice the sharpness in his tone.

“I... I honestly don’t know. Did he even love me in the end? Or did he view me as an enemy? A foe that he needed to eliminate?” The prince combed a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “I’d like to believe that he would stand by my grave in death, but in reality, I suspect he would’ve been the one to send me there.”

Sigurd rose from the bed and reached for his shirt, shaking his head in sorrow. “Gods... how did things go so wrong...?”

He pulled the piece of clothing over his torso, preparing to take his leave.

“Anyway, I’ll let you get dressed. I imagine my father will be awake by now, and I’d like to have a few words with him before we depart. Meet me outside when you’re ready to go. We can walk to the funeral together.”

The younger man followed suit and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, dreading the near-future. He didn’t want to attend the ceremony alone, but he also worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure in the presence of Thora and Ulfar.

“...Alright.” He said plainly. “I’ll find you when I’m ready, Sigurd.”

The prince leaned down and placed a kiss on Eivor’s forehead, bidding him farewell.

“Take care, Eivor. I’ll see you soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~

ONE HOUR LATER

THE DOCKS

Walking along the edge of the ship, Ingrida’s boots quietly thudded against the wooden floor as she tended to the pyres, preparing them for their final departure. She scattered a mixture of herbs and petals at the base of the structures, whispering a series of prayers under her breath.

Her heart ached beyond words to see three of her beloved clan members sharing a ship to the gates of the afterlife. Thora, Ulfar, and Eirik all lay side-by-side in the center of the vessel, decorated with an abundance of gifts that the villagers had left for them. They had axes, shields, food, riches, armor -- every possible boon they could use in the next realm. Their bodies had also been adorned with a handful of sweet-scented flowers, and their hands had been arranged to hold the swords in their grip.

Meanwhile, Dag rested alone in a separate ship docked on the other end of the harbor. His boat had been left barren of any gifts or offerings, and the only attention he received was from scornful villagers who were irked to see his presence at the funeral. His pyre looked about as empty as the frozen sea before them, and it appeared just as cold.

Luckily, despite the animosity the clan held for Dag, Ingrida hadn’t yet forbade herself from saying a prayer for the man. Even though he was directly linked to the death of her son, she still saw it fitting to bless him with one last prayer, as well as the dignity of being sent on a proper vessel. She carried less than no love for the dishonorable traitor, but did not wish to defile his grave, lest she cause Sigurd even more pain.

“Wherever the bridge may guide you,” Ingrida whispered, walking up to Thora, “whatever obstacles you may face, know that your memory has been marked in our clan, sister. Your words, your thoughts, your actions -- they will all continue to live among us even though you have returned to the gods. Your spirit will become as natural as the trees around us, and your name will be shrouded in the honor that was robbed of you in death. May you find peace under Hel’s gaze, and may your axe never thirst for battle. You are free now.”

The woman brought her attention to Eirik, crumbling at the sight of her son.

“Oh, my son...” she murmured, “forgive me. I never thought it would end like this. I never thought it would be me who tended to your pyre. I wanted to watch you grow old. I wanted you to enjoy the life I had given you. I wanted better for--” Ingrida’s voice faltered, causing her to pause briefly, “--you deserved... better than this. You deserved happiness. I only pray that the gods will grant it to you someday, and that we will meet again when death takes us both.” She slid a hand down Eirik’s cheek. “Rest well, my son. Your struggles will not be everlasting.”

Turning to Ulfar, Ingrida cleared her throat and took a deep breath, regaining her composure for one final farewell.

“And my dear friend, Wulfgar,” she said. “I know you were fueled by hatred for many years before you came to us. I know you carried an abundance of regrets. But as the Valkyries guide you to the Hall of Valor, I hope you can find forgiveness for yourself. Even though you were not exempt of flaws, you were one of the best men I had ever the pleasure of meeting. You were a venerable husband to Linnea, and a loving father to many of the children here.”

She sighed, placing a delicate hand over the hilt of Ulfar’s sword. “I do not know whether you will meet the Christian god or be accepted into the Allfather’s arms, but either way, remember that redemption walks with you, drengr. Your faults have been amended, and your shackles have been broken. May your freedom guide you home.”

Stepping away from the pyres, Ingrida said the last of her prayers and decided to leave the bodies alone for now, admittedly somewhat overwhelmed by the grief that was starting to sink in. For days, she had been focusing on the preparations for this funeral, and yet, nothing could’ve fully braced her for the severity of their losses.

The old völva had overseen multiple burials in the past, but she had never attended one with so many familiar faces. Thora, Ulfar, Eirik -- they were all vital people in her life. She watched them grow, she watched them cry, she watched them change. A part of her soul was attached to the three of them, and now... she had to watch them leave.

It was the hardest farewell she ever had the burden of bidding, and she hoped it would be the last.

“Ingrida?”

The seeress whirled around at the sudden greeting, not realizing that she had company.

“Oh, Eivor,” she said upon seeing her guest’s face. “I didn’t notice you were there.”

The young man approached her, keeping his hands linked in a respectful manner.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” he explained. “I saw that you were saying a prayer for them.”

Ingrida glanced back at the fallen warriors’ bodies, nodding morosely.

“...Indeed. I just finished saying goodbye to Wulfgar.”

Eivor cocked a brow at that. “Wulfgar? You mean... Ulfar?”

Ironically, his question only seemed to garner more confusion from the old woman.

“He never told you?” She asked, clearly surprised.

“Told me what?”

A look of understanding spread across Ingrida’s face. “Forgive me, young cub. I assumed you knew of this already. The two of you were like father and son, so I simply thought...” she shook her head, returning to the topic. “Anyway. Tell me, did Ulfar ever reveal that he originally came from a Saxon family?”

“Yes,” Eivor recalled. “He mentioned that before.”

“Well, his name was Wulfgar before he was adopted by the Norse. He always asked me to refer to him as that in private. It may seem like an odd request, but I think it helped him preserve some semblance of who he once was.”

“I... I never knew that. Ulfar didn’t tell any of us.”

Ingrida gazed at the raider’s lifeless face, tilting her head out of empathy.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He had a dark history before he married Linnea and joined our clan. He probably didn’t want to frighten you.”

Eivor’s curiosity got the best of him. “Can you tell me what he did, exactly?”

The seeress fell silent due to hesitance. “I... don’t think I should, Eivor. I don’t believe it would be my place. If Ulfar felt the need to keep it hidden from you, then perhaps that’s because he meant to take the secret to his grave.”

A hint of disappointment sank into Eivor’s mood, but he respected the secrecy nonetheless.

“...I understand.”

Ingrida offered another possible answer. “If your curiosity is truly piqued though, I’d recommend asking your father. Arngeir is also aware of Ulfar’s past, and he was much closer to him than I. I think he would be more suited to tell the story -- if you are willing to hear it.”

“I am. I’ll ask him about it later. Thank you.”

The woman crossed her arms and took a moment to examine Eivor, suddenly switching the subject when she noticed that he was alone.

“But enough about that. Where is Sigurd?” Ingrida questioned. “I expected him to come here with you.”

The inquisitive spark in Eivor’s eyes dimmed at the observation, and he took a slow glance at the nearby longship.

“He’s paying his respects to Dag.” He said, gesturing to the traitor’s pyre. Ingrida followed his gaze, watching as Sigurd said his goodbyes.

The downhearted prince was currently kneeling in front of the wooden tomb with his head hanging low, and a hand over Dag’s wrist. His face was hidden from the world due to his crouched position, and at the moment, all Ingrida could see was a slight quiver shaking the stillness of his shoulders.

“...His eyes burned bright with the heat of Muspelheim itself...” Ingrida whispered in revelation. “Oh, that poor man. I now understand what my vision meant. I understand what it was trying to say.”

Eivor gave the woman a puzzled look, intrigued by her train of thought.

“What do you mean?”

Ingrida brought her focus back to the young man and closed the distance between them.

“The night before Sigurd arrived, the gods sent me a dream about him. Do you remember? It was just before Freya’s statue fell at the temple.”

Eivor nodded. “Yes, I remember.”

A hint of caution took hold of her tone. “...Dag’s death will only fuel the fire already raging in your prince, Wolf-Kissed. I know I advised you to stay away from Sigurd in the past, but now, I suspect you’ll be the only one capable of pulling him back from the edge. Do not allow him to get lost in the dark. He’ll be leading us into battle not too long from now. Please, do what you can to ensure that his mind stays whole.”

“Of course, Ingrida. I--” he stuttered for a second, hesitant to be completely open, “...you know how I feel about him. I’ll try my best to help him.”

That seemed to bring relief to the seeress. “Thank you, Eivor. We need both of you if we’re going to win this war. Take care of yourselves in the storm to come. We’re almost through the brunt of it.”

Bringing their conversation to an end, Ingrida placed a soft hand on Eivor’s arm and guided him away from the pyres, stepping back onto the docks as the clan gathered for the final farewell. A line of archers had already taken their position at the front of the shoreline and set their arrows aflame, preparing for the upcoming ceremony.

“Come, young cub. It’s time to say goodbye.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Standing just beyond the tide’s reach, Eivor and Sigurd watched the funeral from afar as gusts of icy wind danced throughout the village, causing their capes to billow in the breeze. Specks of snow fluttered from the muted sky hanging above them, and in the distance, Eivor could see a number of dockhands pushing the ships away from the piers.

It almost would’ve been beautiful, if it weren’t for the morbidity of their gathering. The ships glided across the glassy surface like swans in a lake, and their hulls split the sheets of ice blocking their course. Ravens soared alongside the majestic sails as if Odin himself were guiding their departure from Midgard, and within moments, the archers had already prepared their first volley of arrows.

“Aim!” One of the warriors commanded, his voice thundering across the beach. A chain of flames immediately rose into the air, pointing directly towards the clouds.

The ships ventured a bit deeper into the ocean, causing waves of white foam to spurt around them.

“Loose!”

Releasing their grip on the bows, the archers sent a storm of arrows flying into the sky as their fiery tips set the heavens aflame, painting the atmosphere with what looked like a thousand suns. Their reflections bolted across the sea like streaks of ember, and soon after, the ships were engulfed in a cloak of fire.

Little by little, the sparks spread throughout the vessels’ entire structure, igniting everything they could touch. They easily latched onto the fallen warriors who occupied the pyres, and consumed their hollow shells like webs of frost crawling across the ocean.

It was a display fit for the gods themselves. The ships wandered like a pair of beacons shattering the dark, and Eivor could only hope that the divines would accept their new arrivals with open arms. These souls had officially traveled beyond the mortal realm, and now, their threads in the tapestry of fate had been cut.

It was finally time for Eivor to let them go. The very same war that had taken these people in the first place still burned with an unbridled fury, and it wouldn’t be long before they had to confront it once and for all.

The only thing they had to do now was get Gorm to talk. His forked tongue hid behind a guise of feigned ignorance, but Eivor knew better than to believe his twisted claims.

That man knew where Kjotve was, and he knew how to lure him out of the shadows. His information was the key to winning this war, and neither the Wolf-Kissed nor the Raven Prince would back down until they got what they wanted.

It was their only chance of survival at this point, and the last obstacle blocking their way.

~~~~~~~~~~

LATER THAT DAY

THE DUNGEON

Shoving the barred door open with a firm push, Sigurd ducked under the low frame and slipped into the room, lighting the way with a torch as Eivor followed him from behind. The weathered hinges of the door squeaked sharply in the looming silence, and a soft rattle bounced off the walls as their prisoner struggled in his chains.

Gorm was completely alone down here. Not only had he been deprived of any human contact, but the tight bricks of the dungeon had also sealed out any intruding sunlight. His hands and feet had been tied down by harsh shackles, and a rough cloth had been wrapped securely around his eyes.

Despite Gorm’s recent arrival though, it looked like someone had already visited him. In the flickering glow that radiated from Sigurd’s torch, the prince spotted fresh cuts and bruises littering the prisoner’s skin. Tiny droplets of blood stained the collar of his shirt, and by now, a slick sheen of sweat had formed on the man’s bony chest.

It wouldn’t be difficult to interrogate this man, but that didn’t mean Sigurd would go easy on him.

“Heh,” he said with a chuckle, holding the torch closer to Gorm’s wounds, “looks like someone had a talk with you already. You been having company lately, Kjotvesson? Or were our men just a bit too rough when they dragged you off the longship?”

The prisoner groaned in irritation, recognizing his captor’s voice. “...Gods above. As if my first conversation wasn’t bad enough. Now you’re here too? I’m not going to talk, Sigurd. The jarl couldn’t beat it out of me, and you won’t either.”

“Ah, so it was Arngeir who did this. I should’ve guessed.” The prince paused briefly. “...You’re lucky, you know. Not many people in this world have the same level of patience as our jarl. If it was my daughter you had killed, I would have flayed you alive.”

Gorm scoffed, shifting in his seat. “You? Everyone knows you’re soft, Styrbjornson. You couldn’t even save the jarl’s daughter from being killed. What makes you think you can get me to talk? Just throw your punches and leave me alone. You won’t get anything from me.”

Sigurd knelt down, leaning towards to the man as he spoke. “...We are one step away from winning this fucking war against your father after decades of suffering because of it. This is the closest we’ve ever been to victory in years, and the only thing blocking our path right now... is you. If you think I’m going to walk away after everything we’ve sacrificed, you are sorely mistaken.”

The prince stood up from the floor. “You can either tell me Kjotve’s location, or I can make you scream it. Either way, we’re not leaving this room until you give us what we need.”

Gorm picked up on that. “We?”

Eivor stepped forward, joining Sigurd’s side. “I’m here too, Gorm.”

“Ah, the Raven Prince’s whore. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here. I know you follow Sigurd around like a lost pup, always pining for his attention. Word spreads quickly, you see--”

Sigurd threw a quick jab at Gorm’s cheek, silencing the man in an instant.

“Well you won’t hear anymore about us from now on. Your ally is dead, Gorm. We found him.”

That seemed to instill a sense of alarm in the prisoner. “...Ally?”

“Yes. Dag.” Sigurd clarified. “I know he was aiding you. I know he told you about the assault on your father’s fortress. But he’s dead now. You no longer have any friends here, Kjotvesson. There’s no one who can rescue you.”

The pace of Gorm’s breath quickened at the news, and his jaw clenched in fear.

“...So. What is it you want, exactly?”

“Have you not been listening to a word I’ve said? Tell me where Kjotve is, and all this comes to an end. It’s that simple.”

Sigurd reached down, ripping Gorm’s blindfold off with a harsh tug.

“We’re running out of time...! I’m giving you one last chance to tell us the information we need, but after that--” he yanked out his axe, “--I start hacking.”

Still, the prisoner resisted. “...Y-You wouldn’t. You don’t have the stones.”

The prince smirked. “Don’t I? Let me tell you something, Gorm.” Sigurd raised the axe to the other man’s face, positioning it right underneath his chin. “Just yesterday, this axe was buried in the heart of my brother. I put it there... after he confessed his treachery.”

It didn’t take long for Gorm to put the pieces together. “...Dag was your brother?”

Sigurd nodded slowly. “Not by blood, but that didn’t mean anything to us. We were still family. We still shared a bond. In the end though... he proved to be a danger to our clan, and so, I cut him down in one strike.” His eyes narrowed in rage. “...I was willing to execute a man I had known for all my life, purely for the sake of protecting this clan. He meant the world to me, and yet, I still killed him with my own two hands. What makes you think you stand a chance?”

Gorm scooted back in his seat, plastering himself against the back of the chair in an attempt to get away from the redheaded viking.

“You’re out of your mind, Sigurd.”

“All the more reason for you to give me what I want.”

The prisoner was quiet in response, leading Sigurd to shrug in a casual manner.

“Fine. If that’s how you wish to do things...”

The prince brought the torch’s flame to his axe, heating up the edge until it was red hot.

“W-w-wait!” Gorm exclaimed. “Wait!”

“Having second thoughts, Kjotvesson?”

“I-- look, I can’t tell you!”

Sigurd removed the axe from the fire and grinned, brandishing its scorching blade to the man.

“What’ll your father do? Kill you?”

Eivor laughed lightly, undeniably amused by Gorm’s squirming. “He’ll be lucky if he’s still alive by then.” His tone hardened. “Maybe we should string him up and leave him outside. Give him the same treatment he gave to my sister.”

Gorm shot him a glare. “Oh, you’ll join her soon enough, Wolf-Kissed. Don’t think this is over. Just because you’ve survived this long doesn’t mean--”

Sigurd pressed the axe down on his arm, causing the man to let out an anguished shout.

“Shit!” Gorm yelled, jolting violently in his restraints. The prince removed the blade after a moment and stepped back, leaving a prominent burn on the surface of his skin.

“If you’re done barking, I’d like to hear what we came for.”

“...You’ve lost your mind, Sigurd...!” The prisoner panted out, still dazed from the pain. “I’ll kill you for this. You and your whole clan!”

The redheaded man grabbed him by the collar, yanking him closer to his face.

“Tell me where Kjotve is! Now. Unless you want me to start slicing.”

Gorm turned away from Sigurd, doing his best to avoid eye contact with him.

“I... can’t!”

“Well, you will. I don’t care what kind of threats your father has made. You will tell us what we need to know, one way or another.”

The prisoner hesitated. “But why should I? You’ll kill me anyway! I’m as good as dead no matter what I do. I may as well keep silent.”

“Because your fate has yet to be determined. Cooperate with us, and perhaps I can grant you a faster death. But if you resist, I’ll have no choice but to keep this going. So save us both the trouble, and just tell me where Kjotve is.”

Gorm trailed off into silence once again, reconsidering his approach. He still appeared reluctant to comply with Sigurd’s demands, but his eyes flicked around the room in a way that made it clear he was slowly changing his mind.

“You... you promise you’ll give me a swift death if I tell you how to find my father? Is that what you’re saying?”

Sigurd looked directly into Gorm’s gaze, taking on a more sincere tone.

“...You have my word.”

The prisoner took the answer to heart and cursed quietly under his breath, frustrated at the dilemma that had been presented to him. He knew he was dead regardless of how the future unfolded, but he wondered if there was a chance he could find mercy in the hands of a proper executioner.

“...Damn it all.” Gorm finally said. “Fine. I’ll... I’ll tell you what you want to know. But you must keep your word.”

Sigurd waited patiently for a response. “Well? Where is he?”

The other man’s head drooped in shame. “...My father is sailing west. To England.”

That took the prince by surprise. “England? What in Hel’s name is Kjotve doing all the way out there?”

“He has allies in that country,” Gorm explained. “And they’re more than just simple raiders. His allies in England are part of something far bigger than you could ever anticipate. They will destroy you if he manages to rally them in time.”

Eivor crossed his arms in thought, suddenly feeling less confident. “...Shit. He must be miles ahead of us by now.”

“Actually, he could still be within your reach. I don’t think my father has officially embarked just yet. He mentioned stopping by an island along the way; to gather food and supplies before making the journey. You could still catch him.”

Sigurd stepped away from Gorm. “Then we need to leave immediately. We can’t allow Kjotve to sail into Saxon waters. If he makes it there, we’ll have lost him for good. There’s no way we could hunt him down in English territory without sparking another war.”

Eivor brought up another subject, slowing the prince down before he could get too far ahead of himself.

“Wait, what do we do about him?” He asked, gesturing to Gorm with a jerk of the head.

Sigurd eyed the prisoner up and down, contemplating how to dispose of the man. When he first set foot in the dungeon, he had originally planned to finish Gorm off with an axe to the chest -- similar to the method he used for Dag -- but now, he was having second thoughts.

“...We’ll let my father decide.” He settled with.

Eivor had to admit, he wasn’t expecting that. “Your father?”

Sigurd took a calming breath, thinking back to his conversation with his lover earlier that day. “He’s right about me, Eivor. I’m too impulsive. If I’m going to inherit the crown someday, I must learn to wield more restraint. Gorm murdered someone from our kingdom, so my father will determine his fate in a trial. Seems only fitting, seeing as how he’s the king.”

The younger man was pleased to see that the prince had taken his advice so seriously.

“A wise choice. We should inform Styrbjorn right away, then. We have no time to lose.”

Gorm jumped back in. “Wait! What if the king doesn’t allow me a quick death like we agreed?”

“I’ll explain to him the deal we made,” Sigurd assured. “My father is a man of honor, despite some of the things he does. He will understand.” He brought his attention back to Eivor, continuing their conversation. “Anyway, could you speak to Arngeir while I find my father? If we’re going to catch Kjotve on time, we’ll need everyone to be prepared. Everyone.”

“Of course. I’ll let him know of the plan.”

“Thank you.” Sigurd walked past the Wolf-Kissed, halting in his tracks to whisper something in the man’s ear. “Meet me on the hill outside the longhouse when you’re finished. There’s something I want to show you.”

Eivor nodded, whispering back to him. “I’ll be there.”

“Then I’ll see you soon, my love. But for now, let’s just focus on preparing for the upcoming battle. This war isn’t going to get any easier in the next few days, but if we’re lucky, it’ll end soon. Kjotve is hiding just beyond the horizon. We can’t let him escape.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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starring-movies · 3 years

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The Haunting of Bly Manor: Episode Analysis

*SPOILERS*

Episode 4 - The Way It Came

Episode 4 of The Haunting of Bly Manor has two timelines, like the majority of the prior episodes, with the present one continuing the current story and the past one focusing around Dani’s backstory and mainly how she ended up working at the manor.

We immediately find out, at Dani and Eddie’s engagement party, that they have gone “from childhood sweethearts to happily ever after”. From this it’s made clear that Dani has known Eddie from childhood, and has most likely been in a romantic relationship with him for a very long time. As a result of this, we can see how she got swept up with what everyone else wanted for her life and how it became “just what we [Eddie and Dani] were doing”, as she “didn’t want to hurt you [Eddie], or your mom, or your family”.

It’s also notable that Eddie, Eddie’s mother and Dani’s mother all call Dani, “Danielle”, rather than Dani. Knowing that these people in Dani’s past all used to call her Danielle, shows us another way in which Dani was trying separate herself from her past and escape what happened, by choosing herself to go by the name Dani rather than the name that she was called throughout her childhood.

Between Dani and Danielle, Danielle is also the more feminine version of the name. It’s apparent from all the flashback scenes of Dani, that she also used to dress much more femininely when she was with Eddie - in lots of dresses and feminine colours. Whereas in the present, she dresses mostly in jeans and t-shirts, and in more darker colours. Although she still dresses quite femininely, she doesn’t dress in nearly as much of a stereotypically ‘girly’ way as she used to. And so in a similar vein, it makes sense that she would choose to be known by the less feminine version of her name, as she becomes more of the person that she wants to be and caring less of how she thinks that she ought to appear.

During the dancing at the engagement party, ‘Higher Love’ by Steve Winwood is playing, and we hear the lyrics “bring me a higher love” repeated. Through the song lyrics we can see Dani’s own internal thoughts and wishes reflected. She does love Eddie, as she tells him later on in the episode that “I love you, so much, even still”. In spite of this, we can see from her expression throughout the party that she still feels like there is something missing between them, which is stopping her from feeling a “higher love” and is something that she wants to have.

We also get a very subtle hint that there was more than likely some homophobia amongst those that Dani knew in her adolescence. At the party Eddie’s mother brings out an old dress of hers to give to Dani and tells her that she doesn’t “think this would suit any of them. Well, maybe Carson”. Although this comment isn’t necessarily directly malicious, there is still the underlying tone that Eddie’s mother has the opinion that her son Carson would be the only one to suit her dress because he is a bit effeminate - despite it being a passing comment of Eddie’s mother’s, there is still a negative and unaccepting air to what she says. In some ways, these sorts of little comments would have been even more impactful towards Dani feeding her desire to repress herself, as although it isn’t being said aggressively, there is still a constant disapproval below the surface.

Back in the present, Jamie returns from Owen’s mother’s funeral. Dani catches herself staring at Jamie as she is taking off her earrings, and so she quickly looks down and turns away to the kitchen sink. Here we see Eddie’s spectre actually make physical contact with Dani as his hand touches her waist. Just as in Episode 3, the increasingly frightening and aggressive visions of Eddie’s spectre shows us that Dani’s feelings for Jamie are becoming much stronger.

After Owen returns from the funeral himself, they all have dinner and Flora says to him that when her parents died “I thought I was going to die too. I was sure of it, but then I thought what if I was already dead but nobody else knew, and I was walking around dead. But everybody could see and hear me, that was dreadful”. Just as Flora starts to say this, we get a shot of Hannah as she listens. This is another detail that is easily missed on a first viewing but was actually another clue that Hannah is dead, as Flora being concerned that she “was already dead but nobody else knew” is what is currently happening to Hannah.

After Miles causes a scene at dinner by asking for some wine, Dani sends the children up to bed. Dani looks into Flora’s dollhouse and we can see that Rebecca is in the room with her and Flora, as Rebecca’s doll is in the equivalent spot in the dollhouse. But we can also see that Peter’s doll is right next to Miles’ in the dollhouse, which is another clue that Peter had just been in possession of Miles’ body and so this is why he acted up at dinner.

Back in the past we see the evening that Dani broke off her engagement to Eddie. They’re having a meal at a restaurant, to separate themselves from the stress of wedding planning, and Eddie tells Dani to stop biting her fingernails because he says “you’re gonna hurt yourself”. Similarly, earlier in the episode, Eddie’s mother tells Dani “you always spot the kids that need you the most. You’d better take care of yourself as well, you know. Save them all if you can, but put your own oxygen mask on first”, and Dani tells her that “Edmund says the same thing, all the time”.

Although Eddie is trying to be caring towards Dani, by telling her to stop biting her nails and to look after herself before her students, he’s not really taking into consideration what Dani wants to do, and in a way he’s smothering her instead. Dani told Henry in Episode 1 that she wants to try to “make real difference” by helping her students, and so we know that her job is very fulfilling for her. However, Eddie trying to protect Dani by telling her to concentrate more on herself before the children, which tells us that although he might have good intentions, he isn’t really understanding or considerate of the importance that she believes that her work does for others.

In the present, while Jamie, Dani, Hannah and Owen are all sitting by the fire, Jamie says that in the “really old days” people used to use bonfires to “toss in offerings to drive away evil spirits, old bones mostly”. Jamie continues to say that you have to “build a pile of old bones and burn away the shadows. Because from here on in, the shadows get deeper, the nights get longer. We’re heading into the dark and we have to hang onto each other, so we can only carry so much”.

Jamie saying this, is where Dani gets the idea to burn Eddie’s glasses at the end of the episode. Dani has been keeping Eddie’s old glasses, which are like his “old bones”; but after hearing Jamie say this, she knows that she has to rid herself of the guilt because she can’t keep “heading into the dark”. So when Dani’s finally had enough of his spectre preventing her from advancing her relationship with Jamie, she decides to burn the glasses to “drive away [his] evil spirits”.

It’s also noticeable that Jamie says you have to burn the “old bones” to “burn away the shadows”, as most of the times when Eddie’s spectre appears to Dani, he looks like her shadow. Except for the end of Episode 3 and the end of this episode, Eddie’s spectre always appears to Dani shrouded in darkness and looming behind her, just like an inescapable shadow.

Another significant thing is Dani’s covering of the mirrors to stop herself from seeing Eddie. Eddie’s spectre appearing in the mirror is not just showing us a reflection of Dani’s own guilt, as when she looks at her reflection she doesn’t just see herself but she also sees the guilt of what she’s done as well. The connection between mirrors and death actually dates at least as far back as ancient Roman and Greek times. It’s believed in many cultures that souls of the dead can linger in mirrors, that the dead can harm the living through mirrors and just general ideas that mirrors or reflective surfaces were sorts of portals between the realms of the living and the dead.

Some old Irish beliefs even say that if you look in a mirror for long enough, you will see the devil behind your shoulder - which is exactly the type of thing that is happening to Dani, when she looks in a mirror she sees Eddie behind her shoulder. This link between mirrors and the dead means that it’s traditionally customary that mirrors are covered after a death, to prevent any souls entering or other bad things relate to death occurring. So Dani covering the mirror, either when Eddie appears or as a preventative measure, doesn’t just stop her from seeing him but it might also be a way of her trying to stop him crossing over or getting closer to her (which he does start to do when he stands in front of her in Episode 3).

During the bonfire, Dani and Jamie separate themselves from Hannah and Owen, and they go to sit in the greenhouse. Dani tells Jamie about seeing Eddie’s spectre and afterwards she says that “I’ve never told anybody that”. Dani choosing to confide in Jamie like this shows us how much she trusts Jamie, to make herself vulnerable and tell her something so deeply personal that she’s “never told anybody”.

However, more importantly, we see how Jamie has earnt and is deserving of the trust that Dani puts in her. Dani asks Jamie, “think I’m crazy?” - something that she might think she is herself sometimes - and through this question she gives Jamie the perfect opportunity to judge her, and make her feel ashamed or embarrassed for what she’s just said. But just like the way in which Jamie dealt with Dani’s panic attack in Episode 2, she doesn’t pass any judgment at all and instead even downplays what Dani says by telling her “I think you’re surprisingly sane, considering”.

It’s this complete acceptance that Dani gets from Jamie, after Dani reveals her one vulnerability that she thinks would make Jamie think she’s crazy and push her away, which prompts Dani to finally act on her feelings and kiss her - Dani has finally found someone, probably the first person ever, who knows her completely (both the good and the bad) but still accepts her and cares for her for who she is.

Finally at the end of the episode, Dani takes Eddie’s glasses out to the bonfire and burns them. Eddie’s spectre appears before her, just like at the end of Episode 3 and she screamed in terror at seeing him. However, unlike in the last episode, this time Dani isn’t afraid, but instead she stares at Eddie face to face as she confronts him. Rather than being constantly pursued the guilt, and the spectre that follows along with that guilt, she stops running and instead comes to a sort of acceptance of what happened to Eddie. Since she is ready to let go, accept what happened in her past, and move on, Dani is never haunted by Eddie’s spectre after this night.

You can read my previous The Haunting of Bly Manor posts here:-

Episode 1 - The Great Good Place

Episode 2 - The Pupil

Episode 3 - The Two Faces, Part One

Episode 5 - The Altar of the Dead

Episode 6 - The Jolly Corner

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hearteyes-candyskies · 4 years

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Odysseus

yandere shouto x reader, background shinsou x reader

summary; im a lil too obsessed with greek myth and purple prose and shouto’s too obsessed with u. peep the title if u still dont know what this is abt

tw; blood, death

word count; 2.6k

the cast

of course, we have our brave and guileful hero, Todoroki Shouto, as Odysseus himself, Nobody, King of Ithaca, and Son of Laertes. you play the role of sweet Penelope, Helen’s pretty mortal cousin. brash Antinous is portrayed by Yoarashi Inasa. and Shinsou Hitoshi is our silver-tongued Eurymachus

the first glance

Shouto first comes for the hand of your demi-god cousin, Helen, who is said to rival Aphrodite in beauty. you don’t like this farce your uncle puts on, summoning men from all over Greece to compete for Helen’s hand in marriage; she is still a child, only 16, and with no say in her future. still, you think, rather guiltily, better her than you. you do your best to avoid the suitors who come in hope of Helen’s hand, lest the see you and decide that they would like a consolation prize. downward gazes, veiled hair, and thick, draping robes all help to deflect attention, and you mange to pass unnoticed for the first couple weeks. all of this changes when he arrives. it’s said that nothing escapes his watchful gaze, and when his icy eyes sweep over you, you can feel yourself freeze as you pull your shawl just a little closer. he pauses for a fraction of a second, and yet you are unimaginably relieved when he moves on to inspect the crowd of nobles gathered in the corner

the pursuit

that night, you appear only as needed for the festivities before hurrying off to your rooms to weave. you’re rushing through one of the more abandoned hallways, preferring to walk a little extra rather than run into a drunk man, and when you turn the corner, room in view, Shouto stops you. maybe stop is too vague of a word; rather, he cages you in, not only with a casual hand against the wall, but also societal niceties. you desperately want to push him away, run for the refuge of your room, but to do so would be to slight all of Ithaca and bring his wrath down on your father. Shouto knows this, too. he tries to woo you first, honeyed words and a silver tongue, but you’re the daughter of a king. you’re used to gold. he tells you that the minute he saw you hiding away in the corners of shadows that his heart would beat for no other, and that he had to have you no matter what it took.

‘such a delicate thing, whose humble beauty is overshadowed by your cousin’s,’ he says. it doesn’t escape your notice how docile he makes you out to be, and while you were raised to be demure and refined lady, if Shouto really thinks you’re going to sit back and let him take you away, he’s wrong. he seems to sense the little fire of rebellion deep within you, but rather than putting him off, it only stokes his desire. lust flares in his eyes, and from that moment onward you know that you’ve trapped yourself in an obsessive relationship

the snare

Shouto leaves Tyndareus’ house with an alliance of the Greek city states and your hand in marriage. his quick wit and silver tongue allows him to secure the visiting nobles into a united agreement; Tyndareus will choose a husband for Helen, and all other men must leave without quarrel, and come when called upon. in return, Tyndareus will support Shouto in his pursuit of you. you know who the man is before your uncle even speaks, for in your agreement to marry Shouto, you asked that he might provide a kind and worthy man as Helen’s spouse. once again Helen lords over your life, but you cannot find it within yourself to hate her for it. after all, she is but a mere child, still too young to understand that her beauty is not really hers, that her life will always be in the hands of other men. still, one could argue that you are but a child, too. the ceremony is beautiful; you wear a dress of the finest fabric, a material softer and finer and lighter than any sort of linen you have ever encountered but one that Shouto assures you is worth it’s weight in gold. if he thinks to buy your love with material goods, you’ll allow yourself to be spoiled but you will never part with your affection willingly. at least, that’s what you think. Shouto has other plans

the early years

even from the beginning Shouto’s love is overbearing and extreme, but he’s a powerful king who treats you well and kept your cousin safe so there’s not much you can complain about. you’re just barely out of childhood, children who have been burdened with great power and yet the love and devotion he looks at you with is unparalleled. you have a feeling that he would fight even the gods to keep you. he’s kind and considerate; for the first two years of marriage he neither beds you nor tries do, despite the pressure he must feel to produce an heir and the weight of your family’s expectations. these gifts, these personal liberties he allows you to have, the way he lets you roam the island at your own leisure, this is why you fall in love with him. it’s odd; you never thought you would love the stoic king of Ithaca, but it seems that Aphrodite has other plans for you. on your twentieth birthday, you welcome him into your bed for the first time, and less than a month later, you discover that you are with child. it’s the next turning point in your marriage

the worse years

after the birth of Telemachus, Shouto’s love changes once again. once forgiving and relaxed about your interactions with others, he seeks to hide you away for only himself to see. the worst is when men approach you. it does not matter what their intentions are, nor their age nor stature nor standing; Shouto claims that his heart beats only for you, and thus yours should beat only for him. his demands to know where you’ve been and who you’ve talked to become more and more intense, until the island loses it’s queen. you are a prisoner in your own home, with Shouto smothering you in love, spending the whole of his day just lounging with you while he addresses kingly matters. bitterly, you think how you have never had any power to your name, not the way that men do and not the way that Shouto does. your rooms are nothing but a gilded cage, and you are almost glad when he is summoned for war. almost. after all, you do love the soft, kind boy that he once was

the war

throughout the war, you hear of your husband’s exploits. his bravery, his cunning, his skill. whenever you do not hear about him, your heart aches in fear, though you do not know if you wish him alive or dead. a year after the way has ended, when Helen has been reunited with Menelaus again, when Agamemnon is dead and Cassandra gone, when Aeneas has set sail for New Iliium, not yet Rome, the suitors come trickling in. at first, you do not know what to do, for festivities and mean both ceased to exist within the palace walls after the birth of your son. two catch your eye, bold Antinous, known as Inasa, sweet beyond his brash exterior, and sly Eurymachus, whose wit you see in your husband and whose charm is only his own. by the end of the second year after the fall of Troy, it is obvious who your heart beats for. the sight of purple sets your heart alight, and his small smiles are as sweet as the finest honey. you wonder if this is how Odysseus felt when he first saw you.

‘call me Hitoshi’, he says, and the way it rolls off your tongue is a sign that this love was meant to be. he asks for your hand in marriage three times. each time a flash of red and white causes your throat clog with fear, and though you know that you deny him out of protection, it makes the tears no less painful. even the loss of your husband cannot set you free

the reprieve

after Hitoshi’s third proposal, you set about weaving a shroud for your vanished lover. each day you weave ten rows, and each night you unravel five more. the sun-drenched days you spend with your violet-haired lover only fuel a blazing passion within you, but when he is gone, when you are alone in a cold room meant for two, the icy gaze of your husband haunts you, and you cannot help but delay the inevitable once more. you will bury your love, one day. you just cannot find the courage now. in the end of the fifth year after the fall of Troy, you finish the shroud.

Hitoshi is too respectful to rejoice, but you can see the relief in his eyes that you have finally put the memory of your husband to rest. plans are made, friends contacted, and suitors long vacated return to your halls in preparation of a beautiful wedding. the palace swells with life once more, the boisterous laughter of the men filling the halls and driving away the cold of the night. when night falls, you rest your head against Hitoshi’s chest, his arm slung carelessly across your shoulders, and you listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat, and rejoice in the constancy of his love.

where Shouto is the sun, bright and brilliant and life giving, but prone to flares of temper and burning those his affections focus on, Hitoshi is the moon; silver-tongued and soft, reflecting the radiance of others and giving the world a gentle glow. yet, despite your happiness, despite the love and life that is promised, you cannot help but feel a pit of worry in your gut

the unraveling

not more than a week after the former suitors’ arrival, your anxieties are confirmed in the form of a beggar. he is naught but an old man, merely claiming to know of the great king Odysseus, yet you cannot help but lean away from Hitoshi, your lover, and sit as if unhappy with the festivities. something about your mysterious visitor doesn’t sit right with you, and when he proclaims that Odysseus has escaped death, you know why. Inasa laughs, the scent of wine and honey heavy on his breath, and declares Odysseus dead.

‘his wife has burned the shroud she wove, not more than a month ago. dead men do not return five years after their fall.’ you want nothing more than to silence him, fear brewing in your stomach, and you are too busy giving panicked glances to your dear friend to notice how the stranger’s eyes train on you alone. a curt nod affirms Inasa’s statement, and your voice is steady when you answer.

‘less than a moon ago I laid the memory of my husband to rest. it has been ten long years, five years too long for a living man to return.’ you say this, and yet, you cannot wonder if this is a test . who is this man who claims to know of your husband, whose eyes burn like ice against your skin? you have to know, and perhaps it is your curiosity that causes your downfall

the slaughter

when the guests wake the next day, you propose a challenge. it’s selfish of you, borne out of a need for reassurance, a need to know that your husband truly is dead and that your love lives and will remain living. the great bow of Odysseus, only to be strung and shot by the man himself, is brought out, and forty axes are planted in the great hall.

‘this bow was my husbands, may his soul rest in Hades, and it was said that only he could wield it. who among you will try?’ man after man step up, failing good naturedly and patting Hitoshi on the back when he too does the same. you don’t mind his inability to wield the bow; in fact, it comforts you that your husband has been laid to rest, that his memory will not live on even in his weapons. then, the beggar from last night comes forward, and though you know that the decrepit body of his will be unable to sustain the force needed to even string the bow, fear runs thick in your blood. it is like you have been struck by Zeus, watching as the stranger strings the bow with ease, before launching an arrow straight through the great axes in the hall. your husband stands, and shakes off the illusion like a fur coat.

‘my love’ is all he says, and before you can react there’s an arrow buried in Agelaus’ heart and an expression of horror burned into his face. he orders you to the bedroom, your shared bedroom, but you stand still in shock, unable to move as he slaughters the men you have called friends in the very place you once called a prison. soon, far too quickly, there is none left save for brave Inasa and your lover Hitoshi. the look of disgust on your husband’s face as he rounds on Inasa, sword drawn, is unimaginable.

‘you come into my house, flaunt the rules of xenia, court my wife, and desire mercy? you will have no justice except for the bite of my blade.’ Inasa dies inelegantly, loud voice lost in a fountain of blood pouring from his throat. as Shouto stalks towards Hitoshi, it as all you can do to throw yourself around your lover, despite your please, Hitoshi steps out from behind you, hands placating and silver tongue spilling words of peace and goodwill. you want to tell him that silver tongues fail against tongues of gold, but it is too late and in the end all you can do is hold your love as the life bleeds from his eyes, forgiving and gentle to the very end

the ruins

the hem of your fine silk dress is soaked in blood when Shouto pulls you into his embrace, and you call brokenly for the servants to keep your son from seeing the carnage. he should never have to know the monster that his father is. as you look into his face, worn by the horrors of war and lined by time, you cannot help but hope that this is not your husband who has just perpetuated such a crime, that the soft red and white haired boy you once knew is dead, and a god holds you in their arms instead.

it’s a desperate, last ditch attempt to save the face of a man who once brought the life of Ithaca to you, and when you ask him to prove that he is Odysseus, that he is Shouto, your husband, you hope that he cannot speak anything but lies and half truths. he asks what you would want to hear from him, and you tell him that you have tired of sleeping alone and would like him to move to the bed in your bridal chamber, as only Odysseus himself would be able to lift it.

Shouto smiles, the years slipping off his face, and for a second you’re staring into the eyes of a man who helped your cousin, a man who waited two years to even touch you because he wanted to respect your decision to love him at your own pace, the man who gave you your greatest joy, Telemachus. he strokes your hair, love clouding his beautiful eyes, and tells you that it cannot be done, for he built the bed himself around a living olive tree. your heart sinks in disappointment, and you know that no divinity stands before you, only a god of a man. as you fall into his arms and sob, he holds you close, arms just a little too tight as he whispers soft comforts in your ear.

‘I am home, my love, and you have been here, waiting faithfully for me’

#yandere shouto x reader #yandere #tw: blood #tw: death

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muchadoaboutbucky · 4 years

Text

Baby, Just Say Yes

Bucky keeps asking you to marry him… but you want him to do something before you say yes.

PAIRING: Bucky x Native American!Reader

WARNINGS: fluff, implied smut

NOTE: Edited by @crispychrissy. Do not save or repost my work without my consent. My prompt was: “I want to do something for her… but what?” / “Well, there’s the usual things: flowers, chocolates, promises you don’t intend to keep…” -Beast and Cogsworth, Beauty and the Beast

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Bucky has no idea how he’s gone two years without marrying you. It’s been sweet and charming, being able to wake up next to you every morning, nestled in soft, warm sheets and dot each other’s cheeks and lips with sticky kisses. And then to make love in the same bed hours later and fall asleep entangled in each other’s arms. It’s been two years of that, living as lovers destined to never grow apart, and you’ve been happy.

But Bucky wants more. He wants rings, a white chiffon dress, a black tux, a pretty bouquet of flowers, a three-tier cake, the words “I do...”

No matter how many times he jokingly hints that he wants to marry you, it always gets brushed aside. He understands why—weddings are expensive and anything could throw a wrench in your plans. Missions, injuries, the nightmares of moving too fast, babymaking, baby raising… ugh, fuck.

He’s been trying for a while, playing with the little jokes: “you know, if we got married we could…” and “the Bahamas look like a good honeymoon destination.” Each time you play along, working into his fantasies only to push them away for the right time.

After six months of playing around proposals, too scared to go for some huge romantic gesture that might pressure you into saying “yes,” Bucky’s stuck. He has no idea what he has to do to get you to marry him, and it’s driving him nuts.

He finds you in the library, curled up on one of the large couches with a cup of coffee and a heavy astronomy book Thor had brought from Asgard that you’ve been infatuated with for weeks. With you being one of the few non-Asgardians able to read the text, Bucky makes sure to praise your intelligence every opportunity he gets, taking pride in being able to get in on the who-has-the-better-girl thing that Thor and Tony always have going on.

“Hey, smarty-pants.” He plops down next to you, leans in to give you a smooch on the cheek, and takes a peek at the symbols etched on delicate paper. “What’s going on?”

“Reading some deep-space astronomy facts.” You turn to face him, smiling wearily. “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Bucky slings his arm across the couch behind you. “I was thinking, if we got married we could have our cake made with all these little symbols on it.”

“That would be so tacky,” you giggle, “they’re pretty, but they don’t belong on a cake, babe.”

Bucky groans and drops his head on your shoulder. “You could design the cake, then?”

“What if I want pie?”

“Who has pie at their wedding?”

You lean forward to set the book on the coffee table. “My aunt did.”

“Blegh.” Bucky buries his face in the crook of your neck and kisses the sensitive spot that always makes you squirm. “Nothin’s better than cake. This bakery in Brooklyn used to make this vanilla spice cake with buttercream. I bet you’d never taste anything better.”

You laugh as he leans forward, pressing you down into the couch and sitting himself on top of you, hips lazily slotted between your thighs. “I don’t know, the cupcakes Wanda made the other night were pretty top notch.”

“Maybe she could make our cake.” Bucky kisses you, long and deep, not stopping until your palms press against his chest. “What do you think?” he continues, “chocolate or vanilla?”

“Why do you want cake so bad?” You giggle when his fingers creep under the hem of your sweater. “I think there’s still some cupcakes left.”

Bucky grumbles. “I want wedding cake. Probably as much as I want you to marry me.”

“Babe—”

“What do I have to do to get you to marry me, honey?” Bucky gazes down at you, pulling the best puppy-eyed expression he can muster. “Please, just tell me.”

You cock an eyebrow, gazing up at him with the mysterious, wicked gleam in your eyes that he loves so much. “I think you’re smart enough to come up with something.”

Bucky frowns. “What?”

“I trust your imagination.” You rub your foot along the side of his thigh.

He lowers his head to bury his lips against the side of your neck. “You’re playing with me.”

You giggle in his ear. “I’m not.”

Lifting his head, Bucky rakes his eyes over your face. There’s the playful tease there, of course, it always is, but there’s something else… desperation, maybe?

“Hmm.” He kisses you again and pulls away. “What kind of surprise d’ya want?”

“Any kind.” You reach for your book and flip back to the page he’d interrupted. “Pizza for dinner tonight okay?”

He nods. “Definitely. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

***

He finds Tony an hour later, busy in the lab with a new piece of technology for Pepper’s suit. Tony barely glances up as Bucky enters, but sets down the tools in his hands.

“Your arm need fixing, again?” Tony casts a quick glance at the black and gold glint of Bucky’s left arm.

“Not this time,” Bucky replies. “I, uh, I need your help.”

Tony reaches out in front of him, swiping through the suspended display hovering over his work table. “Y/N giving you trouble again?”

“A little,” Bucky replies with a nervous chuckle, “I need to get Y/N to marry me.”

Tony chuckles. “She hasn’t said yes yet? You’ve only been asking her for the last… how long has it been?”

“Six months.” Bucky tucks his hands into his pockets. “All I did was ask her what I have to do to get her to marry me, she said to surprise her, so… I want to do something for her… but what?”

Tony pulls a heavy leather glove off his right hand and rummages in a half-finished bag of trail mix. “Well, there’s the usual things. Flowers, chocolates, promises you don’t intend to keep…”

Bucky sighs, shaking his head, and braces his hands on the worktable. “I don’t know what she could want. Not a car, we have one that we barely use… maybe a vacation?”

“Well, the Bahamas are nice,” Tony suggests. “You can always use the jet.”

Bucky bows his head, racking his brain for all the little hints you could have made. Sure, you’ve made hints about wanting a vacation someplace nice, or mentioned staying abroad the next time you went on an international mission… maybe you’re tired of being around people almost twenty-four seven. Maybe you want a place to call your own, where you and Bucky can be as messy and loud and as free as possible…

“A house.” He steps back, flexing his fingers by his sides. “I should build her a house.”

“Then build her a house,” Tony finishes. “Lemme finish this thing for Pepper, then we can talk. I got some old blueprints for safehouses I never finished.”

“Got it.” Bucky steps back as Tony picks up his tools to resume work on the piece of armor in front of him. “D’you mind not telling her? I wanna keep this a surprise.”

“No problem.” Tony waves him off. “See you ‘round, Barnes.”

***

It takes almost two weeks to get everything organized. After a long night of indecisiveness, Bucky settles on plans for a two-bedroom cabin and starts flipping through catalogues of furniture. It becomes a little easier to spread things out and organize when you and Natasha head off on a weekend getaway to the city.

By the time you return, Bucky’s got everything settled. Steve and Sam jump on the bandwagon to help get the place built just a little faster, and Tony works on constructing a false month-long mission, just as an excuse to keep you and the others unaware.

As usual, you wake Bucky early the day he’s supposed to head out, kissing him long and slow as he slowly flickers into consciousness, one hand working on his morning erection until he flips you over and settles inside with long, slow strokes that have your toes curling. After the third alarm goes off, you finally stumble out of bed and into the shower, where you spend more time kissing and touching than actually showering.

“I don’t want you to be gone a whole month.” You perch on the edge of the bed, hair wrapped in a towel, one of Bucky’s henleys shrouding your torso. “Not fair that Tony didn’t ask me to come along.”

Bucky smiles, bending down to kiss your forehead. “Just think ‘bout how much fun we can have when it’s over?”

“You’re only making it worse.”

“Mmm.” Bucky hikes his jeans up around his waist. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

***

It takes the better part of their given month, but the moment the final stone on the front steps is laid into place, Bucky’s heart soars. The house had come along much better and faster than they’d expected it to, and the construction crew had been more than happy to have the help of two superhumans to move heavier materials into place.

With the crew finally cleaned and gone, it’s down to the four men to set up the furniture. It takes the better part of the day, but eventually the empty house is left full of brand new furniture, the greatest piece (in Bucky’s opinion, at least) being the massive bed perched in the bedroom. Tony had graciously contributed a plush foam mattress as a housewarming gift, complete with soft linen sheets and pillows large enough to serve as backrests for the couch.

They head back to the tower after proclaiming the house fit to live in, and Bucky pockets the key to the front door with a smile on his face.

You spring into his arms the minute he steps off the Quinjet, peppering his cheeks with kisses as he cradles you against his body.

“How was your mission?” You cup his face, stroking the growing beard on his cheeks. “You haven’t shaved.”

“Mmm.” Bucky leans in to press a scruffy kiss to your lips. “Lemme take a shower and I’ll tell ya all about it.”

***

The following day is spent mostly in bed. Bucky doesn’t have a care for anything in the world other than reconnecting, and you only leave the privacy of your bedroom to grab snacks from the kitchen. Bucky admires the way your nightshirt falls to cover the tops of your thighs, but he can’t wait for you to not have to dress at all.

When the sun begins to set, Bucky swipes the keys to his personal car from the hanger by the door and slips the little black velvet box into his back pocket. He finds you in the kitchen, bickering with Sam and Steve over the best way to prepare the sauce for spaghetti night.

“Babe.” He winds an arm around your waist and presses his lips to your temple. “Get your shoes on.”

“Why?” You turn in his arms, watching him give Steve and Sam pointed looks. “These guys don’t know how to prep sauce, I’m trying to teach ‘em.”

“I wanna go for a drive.” He pats his metal hand against your ass. “Let’s go.”

You grumble and step into a pair of flip flops, following him obediently down to the garage. The Mercedes Bucky had bought the year before sits in the furthest stall, holding three months’ worth of dust on the silver paint and tinted windows.

“Where are we going?” you ask, sliding into the passenger seat. “You hate driving in the city, are you sure you don’t want me to—”

“Nope.” Bucky lowers himself into the driver’s side and slides the key into the ignition before rummaging in his jacket pocket and handing you the sleep mask he’d snagged from your bedside drawer. “Put this on.”

You giggle, accepting the blindfold and slipping the band over your head. “I wanna know where we’re going.”

“It’s a surprise.” Bucky leans across the console to kiss you and tugs the blindfold the rest of the way down.

“Well, how long do I have to keep this thing on?”

Bucky glances down at the ETA on his phone. “An hour. I’ll let you know when to take it off.”

He waits for the garage door to open and watches traffic almost instantly come to a stop behind the automatic red lights Tony had build in front of the tower. The city’s still wildly lit, and he clenches his fingers on the steering wheel as he turns down the road, heading to the closest highway onramp.

***

He pulls onto the newly paved driveway just over an hour later, heart pounding hard in his chest. The lights in the house are off, and he parks far enough away for you to not hear the sound of the front door opening.

“Stay right here,” he directs, “and no peeking. Got it?”

“Got it.” You duck your head down, overcompensating for the no-peeking rule, and Bucky climbs out of the car, jogs up onto the porch, and unlocks the front door as quietly as he can. The lights flicker on in each room, and he makes his rounds to check for cleanliness before coming back out. You’re still hunched over in the passenger seat, and he opens your door, reaching in to help you out.

“I smell grass,” you remark, “don’t tell me you’re gonna kill me and bury my body out in some field. I deserve my own mausoleum.”

“I would never.” Bucky pecks your cheek and pulls you back, standing far enough away from the house to get a full view. “There we go… on three, you can take your blindfold off.”

You giggle and bounce excitedly. “I’m beyond ready, get to counting.”

“Okay.” Bucky wraps his arms around your waist and presses a kiss to the shell of your ear. “One… two… three.”

Lifting the mask off, you blink several times to let your eyes adjust, and then you let out a little squeak and cover your mouth.

“Is this…” you gasp, fanning your face excitedly, “holy shit, Bucky, is this….”

“Our new house?” He hums and lets you turn in his arms. “Definitely. You really think we went on a month-long mission?”

Tears bloom in your eyes, and you cup his face, stretching up to kiss him. “I can’t believe you built a house, babe.”

“Well, I did,” he replies proudly, reaching into his back pocket. “Laid each stone on that porch myself. And since I got that out of the way…”

You let out a sniffle as he drops to one knee, flipping a little box open to reveal the small silver band nestled inside. “Oh, Bucky…”

“I’ve loved you for the last two years of my life,” he says, “I wanna spend every minute I have left with you as my wife. Will you marry me?”

You nod, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief, slipping the ring onto your finger and discarding the box on the ground as he rises to scoop you into his arms. “I love you so goddamn much, honey,” he murmurs as you bury your face in his shoulder, your body trembling with sobs. “Wanna go inside?”

You nod excitedly and squeal when Bucky hoists you up, carrying you bridal style up the stairs and over the threshold. He turns, gives one last look at the darkened sky, and kicks the door shut, sealing you alone in a brand new chapter of your perfect little life.

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gingerwritess · 5 years

Note

Loki owns every single ounce of soul and my body radiates an overwhelming amount of uwu energy every time I see him it’s unhealthy. In other words, i wanna marry him oeriodt

good news babe, now you can ;)

here it is folks, the wedding of you and Loki.

it’s just the ceremony, i might do something about a reception later and will definitely be doing some honeymoon stuff !! but for now…here’s a very long piece about your wedding! ENJOY.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Loki Laufeyson is not a simple man.

Hell, he’s barely a man.

Everything concerning Loki is complicated; his past, his present, his future, his heritage, his family, his species, his abilities, his ambitions, his reasoning…

The list goes on.

You knew this. You know this, and yet here you are, stepping out from behind an oak tree, giggling and barefoot and arm in arm with your best friend, coming to greet him at the alter.

Nothing has ever been simple. Not when you met him and you each tried your respective times to kill each other, not when he spent a couple years convincing himself he hated you and that’s why you were in his head all the time, not when he had to somehow win your trust.

It’s been complicated. Complicated fights, complicated dates, complicated forgiveness.

A complicated wedding, too, which is why you’d agreed to just have a tiny little wedding in an Asgardian forest, miles out from the border, with barely ten people invited to attend.

The bigger ceremony can happen later. Right now, with the setting sun glowing off Loki’s pale skin, all that matters is making him yours.

It’s surprisingly simple, actually. Loki’s surprised. A couple chairs were set up in a little clearing of trees, shrouded by the oak branches with only a few rays of evening sunlight seeping through, and a walkway of smooth stones had been laid as a kind of alter.

No giant centrepieces to decide on, no music to choose, no kingdoms you have to invite so they don’t get offended, no sacrificial goat to find. Tonight, all you have to worry about is that Thor doesn’t cry too much while he officiates, thus setting the wedding back an hour.

And that you don’t completely lose your shit.

He looks so good.

You’ve never seen Loki looking so…so relaxed, so casual, so sure of himself. He looks confident, for once, genuinely confident in what he’s doing—or about to do.

On the inside, though, he’s a wreck. A nervous, giddy wreck, positive that you’re going to turn on your heel and run away, going to look once at him and find him disgusting, just as you should have since the moment he fell for you, just as you did the moment you met.

His hands shake and he shoves them in his pockets, swallowing hard when you step out from behind the tree.

Your friend insisted on that—“you still need a grand entrance, I wanna see if he cries”—and since there’s only an archway of tree branches tied together with fairy lights for you to walk through, the tree trunk will have to do as a cover.

You’re just as nervous as Loki, if you’re being completely honest. Just…marrying him.

This is kind of a big deal.

A little bit life changing, really, and when you think back to all that had to happen to get you to this point, the nervousness just multiples.

But, the smile that paints your face is in every way childish. Ridden by giggles, a nervous, anxious, excited mess of emotions and then you see him, waiting for you, and the space between you seems infinite and nonexistent at the same time.

Loki’s breath catches.

A sniffle is heard from the make-shift alter—not from the groom. Thor rubs his eyes and stands up straighter, trying his absolute hardest not to pull his brother into a bone-crushing hug.

Loki looks different.

Different than when you first met him. His hair is different, a little longer, cleaner, not so messy and untamed, tied half-up with a couple braids hidden in his almost curls. The thin gold cuffs at the ends of each braid glint in the sun when he moves.

He’s not covered in blood and rubble like he was when you met him, either. He’s not so pale, not so thin, so gaunt, and his eyes are much closer to green than blue when you meet his gaze and give him an excited, scrunched-up little smile.

Loki smiles back and that’s when it hits him: his eyes are swimming in seconds and he chews his lip, casting his gaze to the trees above and praying the tears don’t fall.

Things like this…don’t happen to Loki Laufeyson.

He doesn’t get the girl, doesn’t get to have a beautiful wife. An intimate, beautiful wedding is just something he dreamt of as a child, something that helped him fall asleep, just like that immature dream of having someone to hold close every night, lured to sleep by their warmth.

A few steps closer, he has to swipe a hurried hand over his cheek, and you bite back another excited laugh—there. You got him to cry.

You never thought you’d be the person to make someone cry tears of joy on their wedding day, much less someone who cries so beautifully.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen Loki cry, but it’s definitely your favourite.

Your hands meet before you’ve even noticed covering the distance. The coldness of his skin is normal now, for whatever the reason you’ve stopped caring, and you wind your fingers through his and grin at his teary face before turning to Thor.

“Hey,” Thor chokes out with a smile, “are you two ready?”

You nod, Loki wonders if no is even an option.

He’s not ready at all, because as soon as this starts, it’ll be over, and this beautiful little ceremony is an end he doesn’t want to face. He’s not done marvelling at you, his soon-to-be wife, he hasn’t fully memorised what you look like this evening, he isn’t ready to let it end and lose this dreamlike trance where no past can intrude.

But Thor starts talking anyways, interrupted by an occasional sniff, and Loki’s left grasping at the moment.

He hasn’t even gotten to look at you, to truly ingrain your image in his mind, so as Thor begins to recite the service he’s read over time after time again, Loki’s gaze turns to you and everything else seems to fall silent.

Blue.

He’d expected green, to be completely honest, you know what you do to him when you wear his colour, but you’d surprised him with the pale blue dress.

A wonderful decision he could never thank you enough for.

You’re…a dream. You could be a light elf, with the way the setting sun beams down on you, but no, actually, no light elf could even come close to comparing with your beauty.

The dress floats over you, thin straps keeping it secured over your shoulders, that pale blue fabric softer than silk when his hand slips helplessly to the small of your back.

You’re real, solid flesh and bone under his hand. Breathing, living, a bouquet of white roses and sparse, leafy twigs in one hand, the other finding its way to his back and rubbing soothing little circles.

He’s staring and doesn’t plan on stopping. You catch his eye and send him a comforting wink.

It’s a simple dress, nothing to distract from the wearer. His gaze travels the length of it, from your bare feet to the thin gold chains around your ankles, to the smile dusting your lips, to the crown of olive branches and tiny white flowers his brother just placed on your head.

You nudge him in the side.

“Hm?”

Your crown, you mouth, nodding at Thor. You okay?

Shaking himself out of his daze, Loki blinks and looks back at Thor.

“…sorry. Where are we?”

“I’m crowning you,” Thor whispers, holding up the other crown of olive leaves and flowers, the connecting satin ribbon tugging on yours as he does. “Remember? ‘With these crowns, your power becomes shared, and with these crowns, your rule becomes one, to grow only in unity and to prosper as—’”

“Alright, yes, yes, I remember.”

You bite back a laugh as Loki runs an exasperated hand over his face, then bows his head to allow Thor to place the other crown over his head.

“Hey, sunshine,” you whisper when you duck your head as well, taking his hand between the two of you. “Are you okay?”

“Never better.” He squeezes your hand, a sideways smile flashing your way. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you,” you laugh quietly. “Now shush, this is important.”

“No, it’s not.” He knows he’s not necessarily supposed to touch you more than just holding your hand, but he strokes the backs of his fingers along your cheek anyways, smiling softly at you. “It’s not.”

“Shh.”

With a teasing roll of his eyes he turns his gaze back to the ground, hand dropping from your cheek back to hold your hand tightly between the two of you.

You do look beautiful in blue. Absolutely breathtaking, jaw dropping, stunning.

The longer he stands there, slowly forgetting who he is and focusing on who he’s going to become for you, the more he wishes he had told you his only secret.

Half of him thinks you might already know about his true heritage—the blue dress, the fact that you don’t ask why he’s so cold anymore. But…if you knew, you wouldn’t be standing next to him today, marrying him.

He wishes he had told you from the beginning.

“No good marriages begin with secrets.”

Frigga was an absolute hypocrite for telling him that, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

He’ll tell you soon. He knows he will, or, honestly, he might just bury that monstrous part of himself so deep that you never have to know. It wouldn’t be living a lie if he forgets it’s part of his truth, right?

“I will.”

Damn it, he missed it.

“Wait—no, can you repeat that part?” He quickly blinks back to reality, cursing himself for being so consumed in his thoughts that he’s missing his actual wedding. “Sorry, sorry.”

Thor gives a knowing smile. “Of course. Will you have this man to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold, to cherish and honour, to treasure and love until death do you part?”

“I will,” you repeat, the grin evident in your voice. “I will.”

Loki swallows thickly, eyes burning. You accepted him again. To have him, to keep him, to love him and allow him to be your husband.

People don’t…want him, Loki knows that.

Not his birth parents, not even his adoptive parents, not your world nor his own, everywhere he’s gone has rejected him. No one wants Loki.

You, though, seemed to have skipped right over wanting him and decided to love him.

Husband.

He likes the title more than he ever liked prince, and much more than he ever liked king.

“And will you, Loki, have this woman to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold, to cherish and honour, to treasure and love until death do you part?”

A couple birds chirp overhead.

“Loki?”

His eyes have glazed over, dewy skin glowing in the rays of sunlight, a strand of hair fluttering over his face every time the wind blows.

“Loki.” You nudge him in the arm, an amused smile playing at your lips. “Can you answer him? I’d really like to kiss you already.”

He chokes out a laugh at that, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, sheepishly trying to get a hold of himself. “Of course I will,” he laughs, looking up at the trees and letting out a long breath. “I will.”

Beaming at him, you give his hand another reassuring squeeze and nudge him again.

“I will,” he whispers once more, staring at you. “For all eternity.”

Ohhhh goodness.

Why does his softness make your heart ache like this, how did he become so gentle??

“Hurry up and finish,” you laugh to Thor, heart pounding. “I’m not gonna last much longer, he’s…god, he’s just…hurry.”

Loki’s heart sinks a little, he can’t help it. This is nice, standing here with you, his brother bringing you together, your closest friends and family sharing the moment. It’s nice and warm, and Loki feels surrounded by a strange sense of home, for once.

Don’t hurry. He closes his eyes to focus in on the feeling of your hand in his. Don’t hurry, don’t end this moment.

Warm skin, soft skin, gentle fingers. Only one ring on your ring finger so far, bringing him back to reality right as Thor hands him the small box holding the rings.

He lets out a shaky breath and you turn to him—this time, it’s your breath that catches.

You hadn’t quite fully taken in all of…him.

Loki smiles, turning to face you and holding out the rings in an open palm. “Shall we?”

“Wait,” you breathe, clutching his ring in a tight fist. “Give me a second, I-I need to memorise how…perfect my life is right now.”

His heart twists as you look around, an uncontrollable smile growing over your face as you take in the little clearing amidst the trees, the sun rays cutting through their canopies, the couple people watching, until your gaze lands back on Loki.

Your eyes burn as you look at him, your husband, with his anxious little shrug of did I do alright? in his navy trousers and loose white shirt, top buttons undone and sleeves rolled to his elbows; a perfectly informal ensemble to hoist a middle finger to the attire the other wedding wanted him to wear.

He looks comfortable here. A little nervous, maybe, a little anxious and kind of like he’s worried you’ll run away any second, but it’s an endearing, comfortable look.

“Perfect,” you whisper again, smile damp with tears, and you grab his left hand. “Perfect, okay, let’s finish this, I can’t wait anymore…”

The ring slips easily onto his ring finger, somehow still warm against his skin, the gold band glinting in the remaining sunlight as he looks at it.

There. He grins, that little gold ring changing everything.

He’s yours.

Loki Laufeyson belongs to someone.

Someone who actually wants him, someone who loves him.

Taking your left hand in his, his eyes flit up to meet your grin as he brings it to his lips; a royal gesture for the only queen he’ll ever know. He guides the wedding ring onto your finger, caressing your hand with a gentleness you remember knowing he didn’t possess when you met.

His slender fingers close around your hand, cool as always and promising to never let you go.

Breathe.

Once he moves his hand, you look at the ring, shining against your skin—oh god…now you belong to someone, too.

And it’s someone who wants you, and—

“No,” Loki whispers, shaking you out of your thoughts, “I love you.”

Damn, you were doing so good with not crying.

Your husband—yeah, let’s say that again, your husband—starts chuckling, that beautiful rolling laughter cutting right over Thor’s recitations and prayers.

Hand in hand under the trees, Loki laughs, you try to stop the tears rolling down your grinning cheeks, and Thor skips over a few lines, his own laughter starting to cut through the recitations.

He’s speeding up the ceremony, clearly, mumbling through probably important prayers and vows, but you figure that’s probably best—if it lasts any longer, you’re going to combust.

Your husband’s lips seem to be in need of a good kissing.

Finally, finally, after what felt like an eternity of not being able to wrap your husband in your arms, Thor closes his giant old ceremonial book with a snap.

You glance at Loki, then to Thor.

The two arguably strongest men you know, and both of them have tears pooling in their beautiful eyes.

“Thank you,” Thor whispers, laying his hand over you and Loki’s entwined hands and giving them both a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you for letting me be a part of this, brother.”

Loki just nods, bottom lip disappearing between his teeth in an attempt to keep the tears from falling.

“Never doubt—” his voice cracks. “—th-that I love you.”

“I won’t.”

You can’t help but grin at them, the two brothers in their rare moments of softness, when all the warrior-guises, murky bloodlines, and pressures over a throne have worn away.

It’s…refreshing.

And to Loki, more than he ever could have hoped for.

“Alright,” Thor laughs, rubbing his damp eyes with two fingers. “Enough of that. You have a wife to tend to, brother, I’ve made you wait long enough.”

Loki’s hand tightens around yours and he catches your eye, an inevitable smile spreading over his face at the sight of you.

“I pronounce you husband and wife,” Thor announces, smiling broadly. “Now get on with it and kiss.”

It takes barely a single second before you’re dipped backwards, Loki’s arm around your waist as the other trails up to cradle your cheek, kissing you with the fervour of a man starved.

Kissing you like it’s the last thing in his life that he’ll ever, ever do, kissing you as if he just got to make you his and his alone.

Like he’s yours.

People have warned you about Loki’s “possessiveness.”

But right here, right now, with your fingers tangled in his hair, gently tugging to keep him from completely frenching you in front of his brother and your couple friends and family, you know you were right; he was never really a possessive lover.

He’s terrified, and you know this. Not possessive, just scared. And if any possession is playing a part in your relationship—no, marriage…

It’ll be the fact that Loki gets to consider himself officially, undeniably, forever yours.

See, Loki never needed a second chance.

You weren’t his redemption story, weren’t the kind one who “gave him a chance.”

You just…love the right parts of him.

It’s a beautiful thing, really.

To see someone grow from a pure, innocent child into a tortured soul who’s been beaten by the universe, convinced they have no place in this life, then to transform into the person of your dreams?

It’s simple.

Just find the bit of love that everyone holds somewhere in them, no matter how deeply buried it might be, and love that part of them until someday, they can love it, too.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys @highfuncti0ningfangirl @epicfallenismine

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki requests #loki x reader fluff #husband!loki #loki's wedding #romantic loki #boyfriend!loki #loki fluff #loki drabbles #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki slowburn #loki series #loki

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prettycutebunny · 4 years

Text

Stockholm syndrome

The white kimono hugged your body like a glove. You can hear a frantic scream of your soon to be your mother in law at the people doing your hair and make up. You were marrying a zoldyck. A bride of Someone from such a highly status can be nothing but perfect. The silky white dress filled so much like a Shroud. In a way it was, after today you will forever be dead in the eyes of everyone you’ve ever known. You stopped existing the moment you were taken here. Any objections or attempt of escape were met with a harsh punishment that led you to the blink of insanity. You felt the extreme need to cry, but you’ve lost the right to. Any sign of weakness meant a harsh punishment. You wanted to leave do bad but you simple couldn’t. The mere thought of it made your head hurt and your body paralyzed. You heard his voice in a chant

“Mine”

“You can’t leave”

“You need me”

Who's that shadow holding me hostage?

I've been here for days

Who's this whisper telling me that I'm never gonna get away?

You’ve always been a good person, helping others in need and trying to be as kind as possible. You’ve never regretted your actions, not until it lead you to him. You were helping in a fundraiser. It was for the people who lost their homes to a recent hurricane. You’ve been on your feet since the morning and you couldn’t help but head to the only table with empty seats in it. There’s only one guy sitting in it. The fundraiser was open to anyone who’d donate 100,000 Jenny and more so it had all kinds of people in it , But you didn’t except his type. A strange man with purple batch of hair and needles all over his face. Everyone else was keeping a 5 meter space around him. You never were one to judge so you simply smiled at him and sat in silence. You felt him look at you with the corner of his eyes and you looked and smiled brighter.

“This is one hell of a party ! Thank you for your donation.”

He didn’t respond but stared. You kept talking to at least make the atmosphere less awkward? But you were met with silence.You tried you hardest to stop the shiver and kept talking. He seemed to be watching you intently so he was listening right ? When the host knocked on his glass you looked up. It was time for the toast and you were excited ! Then it happened, he just fell dead to the ground. Everyone was dumbstruck for a moment before the screams echoed through. You turned to the guy next to you to find him simply gone. You felt a splitting headache. Every single corner of your skull ached. Your body gave in as you tried to stand up. What happened to you ?

know they'll be coming to find me soon

But I feel I'm getting used to

Being held by you

The headache continued and so was the sighting of the stranger. He looked nothing like he did in the party but you just knew it was him. He was everywhere you looked. Your mind was screwing with you. His blank stare judging and assessing you as you gone about your date. This creepy unsettling feeling wouldn’t go away. Somehow all your debts were cleared, you’ve been offered a scholarship out of nowhere, and your job decided you should work as an accountant in a desk instead of bartending and dealing with drunken men. You knew it was too good to be true. You just knew it. You’re a semester away from graduation so why not enjoy it ? The only draw back to it all was your unsettling feeling of being watched and the sighting of strange people. It wasn’t like the dead eyed stranger who came as a hallucination, they were real people. The only common thing they all had was their clothes. A nice black pant suit. Most of them looked normal enough and always kept their distance when you actually saw them. It was on the day you graduated it all changed.

Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

Oh, baby, look what you've done now

Oh, baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way, oh o-oh

Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

Oh, baby, you've got me tied down

Oh, baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way, oh o-oh

He was waiting for you in your apartment. Every fiber of your being wanted to scream, yet you couldn’t. He stood looking at you just as intensely as he did when you first met him.

“I’ve been waiting for you until you finish your degree”

He said so blankly like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You seem confused ? I’ve been waiting for you and now you’re ready. You don’t have any unfinished business right ?”

You wanted to laugh and cry. What did he think you were ? A ghost ? He took you to his home. Just like that? You’ve lost your freedoms. He took you to another world. World of every luxury you could ever dream of. You can never forget the way he simply introduced you as his future bride to his family. His mom was the one who showed any signs of emotions while the other treated it like it was like he told them about the weather. No one cares about what you thought or wanted. They were family of a assassins and you now you’re become part of them.

“Your actions are restricted because of my needle. If you behave, I’ll remove it okay ?”

Needle ? Assassins ? Mind control ? What type of fantasy game were you thrown into ? You’re ashamed to admit it but you were getting used to this life. The life of comfort and luxury.

Who's this person that's holding your hand

And talking about your eyes?

Used to sing about being free but now they’ve changed their mind

The wedding ceremony was brief and formal. You’re now a zoldyck. Just like that you’re part of the deadliest family in the world. He escorted you to your shared room and you felt yourself crying on the inside. You weren’t looking foreword your wedding night at all. You were so scared. You’ve barely spent any time with him and now you have to share a bed. Once he opened the door you felt your tears falling as your breathing quickened. You don’t want this. He stopped looking at you confused.

“Why are you leaking crying ?”

“Please , I cant do this. I don’t even know you”

He titled his head.

“This is troublesome.”

“Why me ? You can have anyone else !”

He looked at you with what seemed like fondness in his eyes.

“You were the first person to smile at me.”

You blinked. Wait what ? That can’t be it ! That doesn’t make any sense? First ? Why ? You felt him approaching in light yet dominating steps. He was like a hunter approaching it prey. His hands wrapped around you in possibly the most awkward embrace ever existed.

“Mom said hugs would make up closer”

He said in a matter of a fact voice as he leaned in.

“I saw you and I wanted you. That’s all”

You sniffed and as you felt yourself laughing. That’s it ? His awkwardness and robot like motion were ..... cute ? What is the matter with you ? His hand stroked your hair roughly like a robot trying to mimic the action of humans comforting each other as you started laughing quietly. What is the matter of you seriously? He looked down at you and you swore you saw his lips raise a little

“You’re not crying anymore. Good.”

know they'll be coming to find me soon

But my Stockholm syndrome is in your room

Yeah, I fell for you

The first few days of your marriage was spent in the most awkward touches in the planet. The way he touched your face , hair , back. The way he put you on his lap or hugged you. It was so robotic it always made you laugh. He didn’t mind, he seemed to like your laugh. You couldn’t help feeling some fondness for him. As crazy as it sounds, he wasn’t bad. Compared to other people who would grow up in his environment with parents like his, he wasn’t bad at all. He didn’t force himself at you, yell, or used physical force. He let you leave the room and befriend the butlers. It was unspoken rule. You can do whatever you wanted as long as you didn’t leave or betray him. You didn’t want to anymore. What would you do outside anyway ? Work your ass off to afford decent living as you try your hardest to find a guy who wants to settle down and not waste your time. You’ve got all the money you want and an online ordered husband. Yes he wasn’t like the typical store bought one but it did the trick, and now you’re laughing alone like an idiot. Your husband wanted children, your in laws wanted grandchildren, and you can feel the butlers treating you like glass to protect the imaginary child inside you. Everyone wanted you to have a kid. You never thought of it before but would you ? It would seal your fate forever inside this family. More than you already did anyway.

All my life I've been on my own

I use a light to guide me home

But now together we're alone

And there's no other place I'd ever wanna go

Baby, look what you've done

(Look what you've done to me)

You laid next to your husband who simply hold you as he laid like a statue. He never slept next to you, but for some reason he’d lay next to you everyday as you drifted to sleep. Your mother in law idea no doubt. You felt the blush creeps in as you laid next to him and whispering.

“Illumi?”

“Hmm”

“Let’s have a baby”

You said in the tiniest shyest voice you’d ever master. The way his body shot up meant he heard you. His soulless eyes looking straight into your soul as you blushed harder and pulled the covers over your head. His cold hand stopping you in your track. He leaned down next to your ear with heavy breathing.

“What did you say ?”

“I want us to be a family”

You’ve went through your life alone. No matter how many friends you’ve had or how close to your family you’ve been you’ve felt alone. Inside his arms you’ve felt safe. Was it the needle ? You didn’t care. You were happy. You have everything. What good did your outside friends did to you anyway ?

“I love you”

You whispered satisfied as you’ve both laid down after consummating your marriage. He didnt replay, but you’ve felt him tighten his embrace.

Baby, look what you've done to me

Baby, look what you've done now

Baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way

Baby, look what you've done to me

Baby, you got me tied down

Baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way

#illumi zoldyck #illumi zoldyck x reader #hunterxhunter #hxh #hxh illumi #bunny writes #Stockholm syndrome

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sad-sweet-cowboah · 4 years

Note

Hey love!! Can you do 3/32 With game reader x Dutch ( or Arthur) that’s fluff/smut? Maybe the reader’s first time? Thank you!!

Number 3 & 32:

For future reference, I am only currently comfortable with writing Arthur! Anyone else would be a minor role. In due time I may open up to someone else, we’ll see! WARNING: This one is looooong!

“Arthur, stop.”

Ahead of you, he signaled for his horse to slow down from a canter to a walk. Looking back at you with a quizzical expression, he asked. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“I’m exhausted,” you groaned, rolling your shoulders to release your aching muscles. “Can we stop for the night?”

He didn’t argue. “Sure, Strawberry ain’t too far ahead.”

You nodded gratefully, expelling a large yawn in response. Arthur took the lead again, though keeping himself at a close proximity to keep an eye on you.

The both of you had been riding for hours, traveling down from the bitter cold mountains back into fairer weather. The sun had set ages ago, and the night sky was dark and starless. The smell of rain tinged the air, threatening to fall upon you at any given moment.

Your heavy eyelids shot open when a cold drop landed on your nose. The sensation had woken you up enough to urge your horse into a faster pace. Arthur silently followed suit, riding side by side with you until the golden lights of Strawberry appeared in the darkness.

You’d stepped inside just as the downpour begun, splattering heavily against the roof and windowpanes. Arthur paid for a room, as well as a bath for you. He mentioned that you should warm yourself up, and that he’ll be in the room.

As you two parted ways, a small part of you wished you’d asked him to join you.

It wasn’t until your body sunk into the hot water that you realized just how cold and tired you were. You took your time, allowing the heat to soothe your overworked muscles.

As you worked the suds along your limbs, you closed your eyes and imagined Arthur washing you from head to toe. His body encompassing yours, holding you close as his gentle hands ran over your skin. You could nearly hear him whispering in your ear, small compliments that would make you giggle and blush.

You opened your eyes, sighing and leaning back against the tub. It was wishful thinking, even if it were nice to imagine. Arthur always seemed to be shy regarding intimacy, and you understood why. You never pushed it past his reasons, hoping he’d eventually be comfortable with you to go further.

Though you yourself were no better. Before Arthur, you’d only had one other relationship. Once betrothed to the son of a wealthy family, originally a compromise formed between your parents and his when your father owed his father money.

The boy was nice enough, a proper gentleman that would make any other woman swoon. Although it had been made clear early on that neither of you had any similar interests. Through a mutual understanding, the wedding had been called off and you ran away. You’d been on your own until coming across the Van der Linde gang.

You rinsed yourself off and re-dressed, making your way to the room. You opened the door, revealing the quaint atmosphere of the sight before you. Arthur was sitting on the bed, digging in his satchel for something. He looked up as you walked in, offering you a smile before standing up to face you. He was already halfway undressed, still wearing his pants with the union suit underneath. It was partially unbuttoned, exposing a gratuitous amount of his chest.

You walked up to him, reaching up to kiss him on the lips. He responded gently, placing his hand on your cheek, holding you to him. After a moment had passed, he released you, though kept his eyes on you.

“You ready for bed, sweetheart?” he asked.

Nodding, you stepped back to look at the bed. It was large enough for both of you, the comforter appearing soft and warm. Despite being together for a few months, this was the first time you would be sharing a bed with him. At camp, you still stayed in your respective tents. This new step somehow excited you, even if it just meant sleeping next to him for a night.

You began to unbutton your shirt, in which Arthur’s eyes automatically diverted away. This man wouldn’t blink twice at an evening woman in nothing but her bloomers out in the open, however he respectfully gave you your privacy.

“Arthur, you can look,” You said gently. “It’s alright.”

He kept his head down. “Don’t wanna be rude.”

You giggled softly at his response, reaching to place your fingers on his chin, prompting him to look at you. “We’re together now, right? I won’t mind if you look. You’ll be the only one who gets to see.”

He hummed in response, a light pink hue touching his cheeks. “Guess so.”

Smiling at him, you continued to undress until down to your undergarments. A sheer chemise and drawers, the cool air around you touched your skin. Arthur’s shy eyes were on you, shifting up up and down your body. He quickly turned away, making a small noise and removing his jeans. It was your turn to eye him, the union suit accentuating every curve and muscle of his thick torso.

An image flashed in your mind. A quick, vivid picture of you trapped underneath him on the bed. A rush of heat painted your face, biting your lip as the very thought stirred your core.

Arthur leaned over to pull the blankets back, only further adding to the risque thoughts in your mind. Letting out a huff and silently shaking the thought away, you walked to the other side. You were just here to sleep for the night.

You climbed underneath the covers, letting out a sigh of relief as you lay against the feather soft sheet. It’d been so long since you lay in a bed, the fatigue immediately returning as you settled. Arthur climbed in on his side, a deep groan of relaxation rumbled in his chest. He scooted closer to you, his arm hovering hesitantly over your waist.

“Uh, may I?” he asked quietly.

Reaching for his hand, you tugged it snugly around you before cuddling closer, folding in to the crook of his body. He felt so warm, so solid, so comfortable. “You may.” you granted, your eyes closing soon afterward.

—

Oh Arthur, you feel so good…

You blinked your eyes open, staring out into the darkness. Rain splattered against the roof in a rhythmic pattern. A heated pulsing made itself known between your legs, though ebbing away with the dream. Disappointment shrouded your mind when you realized it wasn’t real. You’ve yet to feel relations of that sort, though being with Arthur had you yearning for it.

He himself was still asleep, his arm still around your waist.

You made a small whine, shifting yourself slightly to become more comfortable. As you did so, you felt a nudge at your backside. Something protruding from Arthur’s figure. You were confused at first, carefully reaching between your bodies. The fabric of his suit had been stretched at his lower torso, coming to a point at the small of your back. As your fingers brushed along it, you heard Arthur’s breath hitch.

It was only then did you realize what it was. Your heart beat wildly, your stomach fluttering with excitement and nervousness. How was he still asleep? Surely he must be able feel that.

An idea blinked into your mind like a lightbulb, so bold that you nearly scolded yourself for even thinking it. But, you wanted to try…

You flexed your hips against him, slowly, experimentally. When he gave no indication of waking up, you tried again.

Pressing yourself a bit harder against him, using the curve of your ass to apply the slightest amount of friction along the warm line hidden beneath. Hard against your softness, you could have sworn you felt it twitch.

A small grunt escaped Arthur’s lips, his entire body twitching in reaction. A cheeky smile spread across your face as you continued, maneuvering with such little movement. The action itself was enough to ignite the pulsation within you once again.

His arm tightened around you, his fingers twitching against your stomach. You weren’t sure how awake he was at this point, or if he was still in a deep sleep. Either way, you intended on waking him up fully.

He muttered something incoherent, voice so low and rough. You weren’t sure if he’d woken up or was simply talking in his sleep. You listened, waiting for more.

His hips shuddered briefly, a movement so fine yet enough to push him flush with you. You uttered a soft sigh, lost in your enjoyment, increasing your movement, prodding him further.

“Whuh-what’re you doin’?”

You froze, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. Your intention and eagerness had drained instantly. What were you going to say? “Uh, j-just trying to get more comfortable.” you lied, fighting to keep your voice even.

He was silent for a full moment. He then muttered a swear under his breath, pulling himself away to roll over.

Alarm coursed through you, and you rolled to face him. “Arthur?”

No answer.

“Arthur, did I do something wrong?”

You could see his figure look over at you. “No, ‘course not, Y/N.”

“Then why did you seem angry?” you asked.

“I-” he paused for a moment. “I ain’t angry, jus’…tryin’ to get comfortable myself.”

You knew him well enough to know that was a lie. Did he know what your intention was? Did you overstep?

Or perhaps he was embarrassed? Do you dare to inquire? “Is it because of your…little problem?” you asked carefully.

Silence again. After a long moment, he let out a drawn out sigh before murmuring, “Yeah, it is.”

Relief flooded through you, thankful he wasn’t angry at you at all. “Is that all?”

In the gloom, you could see the faint outline of his face. It certainly wasn’t dark enough to hide his embarrassment. “Sorry, Y/N. Jus’ don’t wanna seem like a pervert to ya.”

“You’re far from one,” you answered, reaching over to cup his face. “I like it.”

An exasperated breath sounded. “What?”

You nodded, running your fingers through his hair. “Is it that hard to believe?”

He rolled again, this time to face you completely. “No one ever told me that before.” he said, his voice trembling with a light chuckle of disbelief.

“Well, first time for everything, right?” you giggled. “Were you dreaming about me?”

You could see him purse his lips, his head ducking once again. “Yeah, I was.” he admitted rather reluctantly.

You hadn’t expected him to say yes. You felt your cheeks flush once again. “Really?”

“Couldn’t help it,” he replied. “Seein’ you earlier…too pretty for words.”

A smile graced your lips so widely it could have brightened up the room. “Is that so?” you chimed, your voice light and coy. Would you dare go further? “Do you…wanna see more?”

A look of confusion formed. “What?”

“Do you wanna see more?” you repeated. “Surely it’d be better than a dream.”

“Uh…” he huffed, as if trying to contemplate your words. “You mean…”

“Yes, Arthur,” you whispered, running your hand on the exposed skin of his chest. “that’s exactly what I mean.”

“Why?”

“Because…” you hesitated, pursing your lips briefly. “I’ve never been with a man in that way before. I want to know how it feels. How you feel.”

“Really?” he responded in surprise. “And you want me to-” pausing as he tried to form the right words. “You sure?”

“As sure as I’ll ever be,” you said solemnly, reaching for his hand and placing it gently on your own chest. “Please.”

Arthur fell silent again, hesitant on what to do next, although his hand remained on your chest. Eventually his fingers twitched, running his fingertips along your sensitive skin. Goosebumps erupted in his wake, your nerves pleasantly tingling.

His touch left you briefly to rest his palm against your side, sliding your chemise up to touch you again. Your heart shot to your throat as he explored the curvature of your waist. Tracing patterns against you, he steadily roved over your stomach, and finally to your breasts.

He squeezed one gently in his palm, rubbing a calloused thumb over your nipple. Your body shivered from the sensation accompanying it, and you elicited a soft moan. You were so sensitive, your virgin essence so readily willing to accept his touch.

“You’re so soft.” he rumbled, rubbing you in a small massage.

You smiled, reaching for him once again. You toyed with his chest hair before slowly unbuttoning his union suit. Slowly, more of him was revealed to your eager senses. Your fingertips trickled from his chest to his stomach, him tensing in response. You briefly wondered if he was ticklish, though quickly abandoned the thought as you palmed his muscles. You knew how broad he was, how much he worked. How often you dreamed of seeing him without a shirt on, dreamed of wanting to touch him.

“You feel nice,” you complimented, scooting closer to him. “very nice.”

He chuckled softly. “Ain’t no one told me that before neither.”

His warmth radiated like a furnace. Your head tilted, placing a soft kiss along his pulse point. His heart pounded underneath his skin, strong against your lips. Pulling back just a fraction, you asked in a hushed whisper, “Kiss me.”

He did so without protest, using his free hand to take your chin, easily finding your mouth. Tender in the beginning, he slowly exuded a loving passion behind it. He parted your lips, allowing his tongue to bat against yours in a slow dance. He tasted dully of alcohol and cigarettes, though smelled of leather and rain. It aroused you all that much more.

You pulled yourself completely against him, very aware of what was now pressing against your belly. You were curious, sliding your hand between you to cautiously stroke him once through his suit. A soft groan emitted from his chest, and he parted his lips from yours.

“You really never been with anyone else?” he asked again, as if in disbelief. When you silently shook your head, he continued, “Then let me take care of ya first.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he softly gripped your leg, placing it over his waist. His eyes never left yours, while his hand ventured further. Sliding back up your leg, he tugged your drawers aside to enter. You tensed as his fingers parted your folds, soon finding your center with ease.

You’d gasped louder than you intended, covering your mouth immediately after. It was a leisurely sensation, one that he began to build with speed and pressure. Your tension released as your body squirmed, moaning behind your hand. You’d done this before to yourself, though it’d never felt this good.

It wasn’t until he’d slid a finger inside did you call out his name.

You tried to keep yourself contained, though reduced to a writhing mess in the palm of his hand as he worked you. You gripped his arm tightly, desperate for a hold on anything to keep you from turning into a puddle.

He leaned forward to kiss you again, trailing his lips across your jaw and down your neck. With tender care, his teeth grazed against your flesh. A fresh buzz cascaded down your body, enhancing the pleasure that echoed through your core.

“A-Arthur,” you stammered. “oh, Arthur…”

He continued his ministrations, playing you like a fiddle. He commented on how wet you were, sparking a fierce blush as you turned your head away in embarrassment. His hand grazed your cheek gently, his soft voice caressing your ears.

“C’mon, look at me.”

You did slowly, biting your lip as he was merciless down below. “S-sorry-”

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” he cooed.

You could only moan in response, digging your nails into the meat of his arm. He never flinched nor made a sound of pain, just kept his focus on you and you alone.

Somehow, your rise was flowing quick. A growing wave that bloomed from your center, nearly too fast for you to alert him. “Arthur-” you huffed. “Arthur, I’m gonna-”

Your orgasm washed over you in such a smooth, fluid motion. Both explosive and calming, another moan resonated from you as you shamelessly ground into his palm. As the last of it trickled out of your system, your body went slack, your breathing uneven.

Arthur kissed your forehead, brushing his lips with feather soft precision along your face. “How’d that feel?” he questioned.

“Amazing…” you said breathlessly, rolling your head back onto the pillow, letting your energy slowly seep in as you took a deep breath. You peered at him again. “Can I…do the same to you?”

“‘Course,” his voice was light. “Don’t gotta ask.”

Without waiting for your response, his arms wrapped around you tightly. You squeaked in surprise, suddenly feeling weightless as he shifted around you. In an instant, you were on top of him, straddling his legs.

The excitement once again set ablaze. It was your turn now to please him, although you weren’t very familiar with the concept other than word of mouth and writing. You’d hoped your performance wouldn’t be disappointing for him.

You slid your hand down yet again, reminding yourself of his perfect physique. As you ventured lower, you were nearly hesitant to unbutton him the rest of the way, easing yourself into it. Pushing the woolen fabric aside, you revealed him completely.

In the darkness, you could see his outline. He seemed large, at least to your limited experience. He waited silently, his eyes on you. You expected him to speak, to prod you on. Yet he hadn’t made a peep. You took a deep breath, tenderly wrapping your hand around his length. He was definitely thick; unable to wrap your fingers around him completely. Hard and hot, it twitched in your grasp as if impatient for your touch.

You pumped your hand once, listening to his gentle sigh. A steady rhythm began with your grip. His chest vibrated with a soft moan, uttering your name in such a lovely, vulnerable tone. You’d never heard him like that before, even during moments of emotion between the two of you, and you enjoyed it.

Your confidence began to grow as you quickened your pace, happily rewarded with a groan, louder than before. “Am I doing good?” you quietly asked, experimentally rubbing your thumb across the smooth tip.

“Doin’ great.” he exhaled, voice riddled with pleasure.

Elation bloomed in your chest as you continued, smiling to yourself. This big, burly man that towered over you was now underneath you, unable to even speak straight from your doing. He trembled as you toyed with the tip, and you couldn’t help but to giggle under your breath. You assumed this would be useful to you in the future.

As the last of your nerves melted away, you found pleasuring him was like playing with the best toy you’ve ever had. The way his groans and sighs graced your ears instilled excitement in you, once again igniting your own arousal.

You leaned forward, pulling him into a sweet kiss. He didn’t hesitate to hold you close, moaning into your mouth as your ministrations never ceased. His hands wandered down your back, gripping the edge of your chemise. Pulling back for a split second to allow him to undress you, you crashed your lips to his once again.

His touch became restless, finding your breasts to massage and squeeze as he’d done earlier. You shuddered on top of him, moving your hand against him harder in response. The kiss turned feverish, an urgency behind him as he overtook your mouth.

He didn’t let up, continuously ravaging you with his hands. He pinched your nipples, tweaking them and rolling them between his thumbs. You squeaked, surprised how absolutely good that felt.

Soon becoming lost to him, you hadn’t realized where he ventured next until you felt him playing between your legs once again. A fervent touch unlike before, he teasingly poked your entrance. You let out a whine, arching your body against his, breaking away from his lips.

And then, he stopped. Your sounds of pleasure had turned into protest. Though before you could speak, he’d managed to roll you onto your back with little effort, resting you against the soft pillows.

Pulling your bloomers off with one swift motion, he then shrugged the top half of his union suit off, exposing himself in full. Slowly, he trapped you between his arms. You stared up at him silently, your heart hammering knowing what was to come next.

He leaned down and kissed you once again, instilling the tenderness from before. He pulled back an inch to whisper to you, “You sure you want this?”

“Absolutely, Arthur.” you answered with solid certainty.

He took a deep breath. “I’ll admit…I ain’t done this in a long time. I’m sorry if it ain’t what you’re expectin’.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you assured him. “I just want to feel you.”

He didn’t speak, his eyes searching your face as if you had any doubt lurking underneath. Finally, he reached over to the nightstand, flicking the electric lamp on and flooding the room with light.

Seeing your look of confusion, he responded with tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “I wanna see your face clearly now.”

A shy smile crept across your face, fighting the urge to cover it with your hands. This was all so new, so thrilling and invigorating. Emotions twisted like a whirlwind inside you, excitement and impatience intertwining with one another. Your legs spread open invitingly.

He lined his hips with yours, pushing himself forward as the tip slid against your folds. He was hesitant, and you wrapped your arms around around his neck, tilting yourself up to him. You prompted him to go further as a silent reminder that you wanted this. You wanted him.

Keeping his gaze level with you, he eased his way into your entrance. You tensed up, caught off guard by how thick he was. It stretched your walls uncomfortably, tears springing to your eyes as you let out a choked whine.

He stopped immediately, caressing your face. “Easy, darlin’. I know it hurts, just relax. It’ll feel better soon.”

You nodded quietly, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself. He continued forward, watching your face for any discomfort. Slowly, he opened your inner walls as he buried himself to the hilt.

The immediate fullness was an unexpectedly different feeling than you’d imagined. Your body relaxed around him, the pain beginning to fade away as your muscles accommodated to him. You gave another nod for him to continue.

He began to move, thrusting gently into you with a careful steadiness. The sensation following was wonderful, radiating your core.

“Ya feel okay?” Arthur asked, his voice husky.

“Y-yes,” you sighed. “Keep going.”

He nodded, dropping his head as he emitted a guttural moan. His hips rolled lavishly against you. “Y-you’re so tight,” he growled. “Feels so good…”

Your legs lifted, wrapping them around his waist. His pace increased, driving himself a little deeper within you with this new angle. A swear passed his lips as his body trembled in your embrace. Sweet utterances were whispered in your ear, entwining with your moans and whines.

“Faster, please…” you gasped.

Arthur complied without a second of hesitation, dipping his head to rest on your shoulder. Your grip on him tightened, nails digging into his skin. He bucked forward in surprise, bringing forth an intense wave of pleasure for you. Your arms shook as the pure ecstasy traveled up you, dragging your nails down his strong back.

He hissed out your name, cursing out loud as he bucked again. His mouth latched onto your neck, groaning deeply, setting vibrations along your skin. He suckled and nipped gingerly, taking care to not to hurt you. Each sensation rolled through your body, arousing every nerve with a pleasant tingle.

“Arthur, oh Arthur!” You cried out, endlessly marking his back. You wanted more, needed more. You pushed your hips closer to him, the angle only enhancing your pleasure. He dragged against a sensitive area that caused you to nearly squeal, slapping your hand over your mouth to stifle it.

He brought his head up to look down at you, eyes glazed with lust. He tugged your hand away, positioning himself to achieve the same result. Your cry was muffled with a passionate kiss, drowning into his mouth. As you went quiet, he parted from your lips.

“You sound wonderful, darlin’.” he complimented, resting his forehead on yours without a pause.

Heat licked at your cheeks. A shy giggle escaping you, though quickly ended into a loud moan as he prodded the spot again. He didn’t let up, wringing out every noise from you as continued teasing it.

Words failed you, all coherent thought had flung out the window as pure ecstasy overtook you from head to toe. You threw your head back, singing out your pleasure as you felt another orgasm soon on the rise. A quick and powerful build that you could only alert with a wanton moan. As your climax hit, your entire body trembled from how it radiantly rolled through you. You clung to him, riding out the last waves as it ebbed away.

You attempted to catch your breath, focusing on him again as your senses cleared. A small smirk touched his lips as he peered down at you, sweetly whispering how good you looked like that.

Biting your lip, overcome with shyness again as you battled the urge to hide yourself. Arthur’s eyes stared deep into yours, reflecting the love he held for you. It almost made your breath hitch.

Arthur swore out loud, his face contorting. “Ah, I’m close.” He groaned. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to him. You could only gasp, clinging tightly as he chased after his own pleasure. Much faster than before, the sensation almost dizzying as it overtook you again.

Within seconds, his hips snapped away from you, rubbing himself against your folds as he unleashed a guttural moan. Hot trails of his seed painted your stomach, his hips shuddering shallowly against you as the last of his climax died out.

He panted heavily, his arms still tight around you. His head rested heavily on your shoulder, quiet for a moment as he caught his breath.

Silence encompassed you both, lost in the post copulation bliss. It seemed so surreal, having lost your innocence to a man that you once never thought you’d come to know so intimately. It was like living in the world’s best dream.

Arthur finally released you, and you felt his lips trail lazy kisses along your shoulder, forming a pathway up your neck and to your mouth. The kiss was soft, not hiding the fatigue that now took hold of you.

As the kiss parted, he moved to lay by your side. Meeting each other’s gazes, you noted the same look of love he’d given you before.

You smiled, returning his gaze by gently cupping his face. “Arthur?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You’re everything to me,” You sighed happily. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He murmured, gently taking your hand to kiss your palm. A wide yawn escaped him just after. Turning off the table lamp, he pulled you into his embrace.

—

Can you tell I really like setting up for smut scenarios?

Send me a prompt!

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x reader smut #prompt request

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