#I wrote most of this in the morning oops

[unholyhelbig]

part 4 mob boss mommy *i mean natty oops*

Title: The Oversight [Part 4/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 4325

Warnings: Gun imagery, heights, unecessary tension, horrible grammar, and funnel cake

[A/n: Heads up, I wrote this while I had the flu & a pretty bad fever, so it's not my greatest work. Thank you all for the postive feedback!]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

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“Hit me.” Natasha’s words were growled, a low rumble compared to the warm spring breeze that produced nothing but a balmy environment. Sweat glossed her collarbone, moved against expanses of skin that you had let yourself imagine, but had never seen. She was a distraction, despite being your instructor.

Her wrapped fist made contact with your jaw, a metallic taste coating your tongue. You let out a grunt of protest, fingers quickly working against the area to ease the throbbing pain. “That wasn’t fair,”

“You think they’re going to play fair? Focus up. Hit me.”

There was something about being this close to Natasha that formed a pit in your stomach. You were meant to have skin on skin contact, though most of your mornings for the past two weeks had been spent at the gun range, she had deemed you ready enough to learn how to fight. It was an art, you figured, not just something you could blindly go into.

For the first fifteen minutes of your day, you had watched Natasha and Kate spar. Yelena was standing next to you, a borderline predatory gaze on her face. You’d realized that it was one of the only emotions she harbored, and that Clint was rightful in his fear. Still, her attention was not focused on you, and that was good enough for the time being.

Instead, it was homed in on Kate. “I have been teaching her for nearly a year now.”

“She’s good.”

“You do not have to lie, y/n. She’s sloppy, reckless. Look how calculated Natalia is.”

Those emerald eyes were tracking every move the taller girl made. She’d initiated contact with Kate’s ribs, with her knees, and her shoulders. She’d fallen to the grass more times than you could count, but she still got up. That’s what seemed to count around here. Even as green a brown stained her workout gear, and as purple blotches of dead blood rose to the surface of her skin.

“It pays to learn fighting styles. That is something the Danver’s family does not understand. They hire whoever they can. Bodies over skill, it can work in some situations, but not all.”

“When did this… war start?”

“Mm, the power struggle has been raging for decades. Our parents, and their parents, and their parents before them. Both of us were trained to take over the family business. Men, they fight with their hearts and not their heads. When Carol and Natalia took up the mantel, things only got worse.”

You felt silly, growing up on these city blocks, and not realizing that a fight bigger than yourself was raging just within the shadows. You supposed that was a good thing. If you knew, you’d have taken Ronnie out of here in a second.

Kate hit the ground for a fourth time, the air knocked out of her lungs. She still had enough left to groan and prop herself up on her elbows. Natasha chuckled, the sound bubbling past her lips. This was much too fun for her.

“She is fragile.” Yelena nudged you with her arm. You frowned. Kate accepted the outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She looked dazed. “Do not tell her I said so, but she was looking for a project. You have to give it your all. For both of your sakes.”

You drew in a breath to respond, but Yelena clapped a hand on your back before taking a step toward the dueling duo. “Alright Nat! I think you’ve tortured Kate Bishop enough. Do not break her.”

Kate was bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet, her fists raised in a defensive position. Her lip was split, rusty crimson against the corner of her mouth. “I can do this all day.”

“You do not have to.” Yelena’s nose scrunched up “You stink. Go take a shower.”

The blonde shoved Kate playfully towards the house, trailing behind her and murmuring things in Russian. She’d left you alone with Natasha, something you had become quite accustomed to. In your workout gear, you felt more than a little exposed, her stare raking up and down your form before her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink than they already were.

The two of you had sat on the lawn chairs as she wrapped your knuckles, had you punch the palm of her hand to see how much blowback it would cause. You were holding back, and you both knew it. Her last command had been non-negotiable.

When you swung your right hand towards her jaw, Natasha wrapped her fingers around your wrist. She had flipped you onto the ground with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. You’d flailed in panic instead of going limp like Kate had.

You’d dragged Natasha down on top of you. Her body weight was warm from the beating sun, her elbows on either side of your head. Natasha’s knee was between yours, pressing into your core. You let out a small gasp at the sensation, pulling in her musky scent of sweat and clove.

Stray strands of russet hair framed Natasha’s face as she peered down at you, her chest heaving, each breath pushing her closer to you. Her nose was brushed against yours. The two of you were impossibly close, soul-crushingly so. You were certain that she could feel your heartbeat through your shirt.

She made a quite noise “Pet, if you wanted to get me on top of you, all you had to do was ask.”

Your gaze had given you away, and Natasha suddenly had a shit-eating grin against her lips. You hooked your legs against hers an arm wrapping around her waist. In a smooth move, you had her flipped against the grass, eyes reflecting the blue of the cloudless sky. She nearly seemed impressed, and you preened at the stare.

That was before her knee came up and knocked the wind out of you for the second time. You grunted, rolling off her. The two of you stared up at the sky for a few moments before she hoisted herself up and offered you a hand. You batted it away out of habit, rising on your own.

“When you fall, you fall with grace.” Natasha said, her voice stoney, right back to her serious self. “That way you don’t end up like we just were.”

“And if they ask?” you lifted an eyebrow at her, a hint of malice in her voice. She took a step closer to you, and that ever-intoxicating scent filled your lungs once more. Your ribs still ached from her kick, fingers massaging the sore spot. However, all of your movement halted.

Her voice was murmured and rusty. “I don’t want anyone else on top of you.”

“Okay,” You whispered, throat suddenly tight. “Then show me how.”

Veronica had the excited reflection of light in her eyes. They scanned the traveling fair that had been set up in the park bordering the harbor and a square city block. Each year, tents with local vendors would go up, rides and carnival games in their stead.

The scent of kettle corn filled your lungs, a mix of sweet and salty that reminded you of your own childhood spent here. It was the one constant that every foster family took part in. Sometimes you’d be given a stack of tickets, others, you’d get enough for a large cup of the best lemonade you had ever tasted.

Her hand tightened around yours, squeezing in excitement. Despite your current situation, you couldn’t help but smile. The soft sound of music and the light breeze was enough to make your forget about your aching muscles, and the light sweater that you had thrown on to hide the bruising against your shoulders, your arms, and collarbone. Natasha had really done a number on you.

“Jimmy is a nice guy, he really is, but the whole magic thing is driving me nuts.” Darcy used her forefingers to pinch off a bit of blue cotton candy, shoving it into her mouth. She talked around the melting sugar. “Seriously, he spilled my coffee all over my lap attempting a card trick and then attempted to mop it up with a never-ending handkerchief.”

You snickered at that, earning a look cut from glass. “What? I’m sorry about your drycleaning, but it is kind of funny.”

“Yeah, whatever. I just have to grow a backbone. He doesn’t try to pull that shit with Monica. No one tries to pull that shit with her.” She knelt in front of Ronnie, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “You’re not going to tolerate stupid magic tricks, are you?”

She was met with a silent, but amused stare, her eyebrow lifted. You’d been leveled with that look more than once yourself. It dissolved you into more laughter. “Alright, alright. No magic for the kid. Does the Ferris Wheel count as magic?”

“Well sure, but only at the worlds fair.”

You rolled your eyes but effectively tugged them both into the line. It had always been one of your favorites. It gave you a good look at the city you called home. Of course, your view of that city had been stunted lately. It never truly changed the beauty of the lights and the way they reflected off the water.

Your shoulder came in contact with chilled leather, your attention having been trained on fishing through your pockets for the small red tickets. Your eyes shot up, ready to rush out an apology until the words stopped in your throat.

Seeing Natasha outside of her manor was jarring. She looked nearly the same, a tight-fitting black T-shirt and a leather jacket draped over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, unlike it was at training earlier in the day, cascading down her shoulders. Her make-up was light, her unripe stare pouring into yours. That bewilderment melted into her cool exterior as if it were never there in the first place.

“Natasha,” the word poured from your lips before you could stop it, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I can take a hit” She stated matter-of-factly. You were well aware of the fact, and you had to stifle a shiver as it worked its way down your spine. Hours before she had been nestled so perfectly on top of you.

Your cheeks heated up and you glanced sparingly at your friend, her own eyes going back and forth between the both of you. It was then that you noticed Clint, towering over Natasha with his arms crossed over his chest. He gave you a finger wave, and you lifted your chin in return.

“I’m Darcy, you are?” She was beyond forward, and it made you internally cringe. She reached her hand out to the very woman that ran the city. It was like sticking your hand in the lions enclosure covered in steak sauce.

“Natasha,” her words dripped with a subtle hint of her accent “This is Clint.”

“Howdy,” he knelt then, Veronica was clinging tightly to your leg, peeking around tentatively. She hugged you closer as he spoke. “You must be Veronica.”

The woman in front of you softened as you had never seen before. Her eyes grew brighter, though you could pin that on the circulating lights of the Ferris Wheel. There was a genuine smile on her lips as she looked at the girl who hugged you ever close.

“She doesn’t talk much, I’m afraid.” Your hand moved comfortingly to her shoulder. Ronnie seemed comfortable, if not excited about the rides that were teeming around them.  

Nat smiled at you “Oh, I’m sure she’ll speak when she has something to say.”

Ronnie’s death-grip on your leg seemed to loosen a bit as Clint straightened up. Darcy continued to scrutinize you and Natasha, something mischievous in her stare that you didn’t exactly care for. She rocked back and forth on her feet and directed her attention to Clint.

“How good are you at skeeball?”

“An absolute beast.” Clint replied.

“What do you say to a challenge? I bet I can kick your ass with the power of science. Winner springs for funnel cake.”

You picked up on the subtle look Clint gave Natasha and the even more subtle wave that she responded with. She blew an amused breath. Darcy stretched her hand towards Ronnie and wiggled her finger. “Kid, you staying or going?”

This time, Ronnie looked up at you for confirmation and you gave her a small, encouraging nod. She dislodged herself and wrapped her hand around Darcy’s. The promise of flaky and sweet funnel cake topped with powdered sugar was too tantalizing.

Admittedly, you were used to being left alone with Natasha at this point. Though it had mostly been in a business capacity. She seemed almost shy now, the line for the Ferris Wheel inching ever so closer.

“We can still go on, if you want.” She suggested.

“Yeah, yes. Of course.” You replied, “that would be lovely.”

“Your friend is very persistent.”

“She’s harmless, really.”

“And your daughter. She’s beautiful.” Natasha shoved her hands into her pockets, the two of you inching closer in line. “Just like her mother.”

Once again, you could feel the breath lodge in your throat, your cheeks flushing with fire. She was so bold at moments, and you remained silent in your conquest. There was no telling what was overstepping, though she blinked at you expectantly.

You fumbled dumbly with the tickets in your pockets, presenting them to the attendant. You both ended up in a cherry red car lined with nice leather cushions. Natasha’s thigh was warm against yours, her thick scent coating your lungs. Her arm was around the back of the cart, and a familiar sense of safety settled within you.

“You worry about her,” Natasha said to fill the silence as they loaded each cart. It lurched forward and back, making your stomach turn. “I didn’t start speaking until I was nine years old. My mother, she was so concerned that she rushed to be every specialist that money could buy. Whole days spent driving to different counties, just for them to say that same thing. Nothing is wrong, and I’ll talk when I’m ready.”

“What was that moment? The one where you were ready?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “The thing about being quiet, is that people tend not to notice when you’re in the room. My father protected Yelena and I from his world for as long as he could, but eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves, and others. I watched him give a man his last drink before shooting him between the eyes.”

“Fuck, Natasha.” You murmured.

“He doesn’t know I saw that. I ran as quietly as I could back to my room and hid under the duvet like a child. Something snapped in me that day and I no longer wanted to be silent. I suppose the fear of displeasing either of them ebbed the words from me.”

She was being vulnerable in front of you, a side that you had never seen. There were always her subtle touches, and her purred words that would hit the pit of your stomach. You’d watch as she gave unwavering commands to Clint, to Yelena and Kate. But this was different. This was her.

The city sparkled around you. Tricolored lights reflected off the blackness of the causeways that lapped listlessly at the harbor. If you squinted, you could almost make out the mansion where you spent most of your time.

The carnival buzzed below. Her scent was overwhelming, so warm and welcoming despite her danger. And dangerous she was. It was alluring, exciting. You looked at her, eyes pouring with emotion. Not so much pity, as she would snap your wrist at the fact. But a simple understanding.

Tentatively, you reached up and cupped her cheek. You both were too far above the ground to be realized and the simple gesture was one of good faith. Surprisingly, she leaned into your touch, making a quiet, relieved noise.

Your voice was whispered, “You didn’t deserve that. You were just a kid.”

She had closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of your contact. Her features were so soft, so broken in this moment that you resisted the urge to kiss her frown away. Before you could contemplate it, the Ferris Wheel lurched and she gently took her fingers and wrapped them around your wrist, lowering both of your hands into her lap.

“She’ll talk,” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze “give her time.”

Natasha cleared her throat as the cart neared the end of its journey. She pulled away entirely, her arm still along the back of the seat. When she leaned closer, you could feel the weight of the gun in the inside pocket of her jacket. Seriousness had lidded over her eyes once more.

“We have a job tonight, and I want you to come along.” She said, breath hot on your collarbone.

You were suddenly snapped back to reality. Natasha was in fact the head of a crime ring that you had unwittingly stumbled into. Up until now, aside from the brutal beating, it had almost felt like child’s play. She’d relearned you how to shoot, and you knew the very basics of fighting. But, you were far from her Winter Soldier stand in. You weren’t even a toy soldier.

She sensed your hesitancy. “I have a meeting at a restaurant downtown. It’s not going to go south, but if it does, I need you there. You won’t be alone.”

“Clint?” You asked.

She shook her head “guys got a family of his own, he must spend some time with them outside of work hours. Kate.”

You fought back the noise that threatened to escape your throat. You didn’t doubt Kate, but you certainly doubted yourself. You didn’t have your own weapon, and the threat of leaving a restaurant with a bullet lodged between your ribs became very real, very quickly.

She chuckled at that, “I trust her. I trust you. Just stand there and follow her lead. Look hot and intimidating.”

“Is hot really a requirement?”

“Not really, but you pull it off.” There was a switch in her again, one that had been flipped effortlessly as she grabbed the collar of your sweater and pulled you impossibly close. You were nearly sitting in her lap. “Don’t fail me on this, y/n. It’s imperative that you do as you’re told.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You swallowed thickly as her hands wandered your side expertly. It took you a moment to realize that she had pulled the gun from her own coat and silently transferred it to yours before she released her hold on you. You had admit that you missed the touch instantly.

She stood from the cart when the attendant unlocked the door, reaching her hand out to you. You took it was ease, letting her help you onto the metal dismount. There were no words exchanged as you readjusted the weapon as slyly as you could muster, hands shoved into your pockets a moment later.

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.” You could hear Darcy’s voice from within the crowds. It was easy to spot them, and you swore you saw the ghost of a smile on Natasha’s face. “The kid kicked both of our asses. Split the difference and pay up.”

“Yeah, fine.” Clint fished out his wallet and placed a couple of bills in Darcy’s waiting palm. “The price of carnival food these days is outrageous.”

Kate had presented you with a leather holster that fit snuggly around your chest and abdomen. She’d tightened the straps, your arms halfway raised. It felt a bit like a dressing room at the mall, her breath hot on your cheek as she tugged the center strap to make sure it was secure.

“Natasha likes us to be presentable.” She handed you a dark jacket to throw over the contraption. “Inconspicuous and deadly. But still presentable.”

You followed Kate’s lead. Natasha was to drive to the restaurant, and the two of you were to follow in a separate car. It was important to stay quiet unless you were spoken to directly by Natasha. Kate seemed at ease on the ride over, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel to an incoherent pop song.

The holster pinched you uncomfortably, but you were so deep into your own fear, your own reluctance, to pay much attention. Kate shot you a look, hard in her nature, and then softer when she glanced at you a second time.

“You’re much too tense” she flicked off the radio, delving you into a comfortable silence. “Lower your shoulders and relax. It’ll be an uneventful night.”

“Right,” you let out a shaky breath “uneventful.”

“Look, I can’t imagine how jarring this is for you. I would have shut down by now, changed my name and gone into witness protection if I was thrown into this life the way you are. Without a choice. But, we can make the best of it and do what we can to protect Natasha.”

“It seems like she can handle herself,”

Kate chuckled “Oh, she can. But she doesn’t keep us around just for protection. It’s a big city, she wants people she trusts. She wants a family. And I know it might not seem like it, but her welcoming you into her inner circle… it’s a blessing. Just like we’d go to bat for her, she’d do the same for us.”

You swallowed the dryness in your throat as Natasha pulled her car to the curb in front of a russet brick building. Kate did the same expertly, shutting off the engine. She clapped you on the shoulder, giving you one more encouraging smile. “One night at a time, y/n. Follow my lead.”

Kate opened the door for Natasha, and you had to keep your jaw from dropping on the ground at the sight of her. Her long leg stretched onto the sidewalk, her hand squeezing Kate’s in return as she helped her from the vehicle.

She wore a maroon dress, one that had a slit down the leg that left little to the imagination. The color matched the shirt Kate had given you earlier, everything orchestrated to a tee. The woman looked at you approvingly before she took striding steps towards the front of the building. Out of habit, you held the door open for you, another look sparkling in her dark eyes.

It was a restaurant that you had never set foot in. There was a sour, yet pleasant, scent of vinegar and cabbage masked with that of freshly baked bread and beef. The walls were painted deep green, black and white photos of rolling hills placed above empty tables.

It was clear what table you were to be led to. There was one in the center of the restaurant that was set up with a bottle of wine, and water. A candle burned in the middle, shading the woman who occupied it with shadows that stretched her delicate features. She wasn’t alone.

The woman had cropped blonde hair at the shoulders. Her hazel eyes were calculating, clocking Kate and yourself immediately. Kate pulled Natasha’s chair back, allowing her to sit before she took a step back. You flanked her sides, arms behind your back and stare trained straight ahead like a sentinel.

“Two,” the woman smiled devilishly, hiding it behind a glass of deep red wine. “Are you compensating for something, or someone?”

The woman who stood much like you did behind her boss was not masking her contempt towards you. She was familiar in an irking way that you paid no mind to. It was in passing, you were sure, but it was one of those itches that would worsen until you could scratch it with your whole hand.

“Not at all,” Natasha replied cooly, “I believe there was something you wanted to discuss?”

“Mm, there was. You know the Maroni property on the west side.” She leaned forward, placing her glass down. Her lips were stained in a dark red that matched Natasha’s dress. “I want it.”

“That’s a horrible way to say please.”

“Natasha, we both know it doesn’t serve you in it’s current position.” She put emphasis on the name.

“I fail to see how that matters. Just giving you the property is out of the question. That’s not how this works, but I do admire your gumption.”

“Then how exactly does, this work?” She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. Both you and Kate tensed. The vaguely-familiar woman behind Carol shifted on her feet in the slightest movement. “You kill one of my men and offer nothing in return?”

Natasha lifted her eyebrows “Exactly. This isn’t a bartering system, and it never has been. If I give you this building, it will change everything and I’m not much in the mood for a power struggle. What do you need it for?”

She seemed to falter “I don’t have to answer that. I’m offering to buy the property from you.”

“It’s not for sale.”

There was finality in her voice that rocked the room into silence. She hadn’t touched her wine, nor her water, and you figured she wouldn’t. Carol glowered at her, clearly not used to having her endeavors squashed with such ferocity.  

Natasha took a steadying breath. “Is that all? It’s late and I’m tired of your graveling.”

She let out a sigh and crossed her legs, drumming her ringed fingers on the cloth-laid table. The flames in the candle seemed to react to her impatience. Kate’s jaw clenched and unclenched as she leveled the woman behind Carol with a fierce stare.

“I suppose. I want you to remember this moment, Natasha. I offered you a deal.” She stood and dramatically sighed once more. “This could have been easy.”

Kate always kept her eyes on Carol, on the woman who followed behind her with her hands shoved into her pockets. The darkness of a previous scar littered her collarbone. She had the same stare that Bucky had, that same determined anger that came with years of meetings with higher stakes than this.

“Oh, and Nat.” She stopped just short of the door, turning to face the three of you.

Kate reached for her weapon, and out of a blind trust, so had you. It was warm from its housed place against your side. In that moment, you knew that anyone else in the room would be a quicker shot than you. Still, your heart was beating quickly in your throat.

“I don’t know where your Winter Soldier is, but this is a sorry excuse for a replacement.” She laughed, a mean sound. “A kid and a burn-out… you should’ve taken the deal.”

She left without another word, leaving you in a chilling silence. For a few long moments, Natasha stared at the table, at her reflection in the syrupy red wine. Her fingers brushed against the glass, frowning.

“I’m twenty-three.” Kate let out in a single breath, eyes drifting from you.

“Don’t look at me,” You whispered back, “I am a burn-out.”

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#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #natasha romanov #natasha romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Marvel #Marvel Au #Kate Bishop #Mafia Au #request

[residenthughes]

slow sundays - mat barzal

pairing: mat barzal x gender neutral reader

word count: 1k

tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, no mention of y/n

summary: any day spent with barzal is always good, especially sundays.

notes: a little something i wrote when i should have been sleeping, oops! may write a longer version, may not but i'll definitely write up something else longer for barzy, as well as some other fics that i've started and am very excited to share, hehe! as always, hope this finds u well and that you enjoy this small ball of fluff. much love! <3

oh! forgot to mention, this post is inspired by this post by @novelbear! they spoil tumblr rotten with such adorable prompts! :)

Sundays are your favourite days of the week. The normal anxieties that creep in from a long lived weekend cease to exist in your timeline, a day defined by slow sweetness and sacred serenity. This year you’ve really lucked out with said day, most of Mat’s games scheduled another time and on the off chance he has practice, it’s before you can even pry yourself from the comfort of your cloud-like mattress. This is one of those Sundays, where you’re tucked away in citrus scented sheets, fast asleep as Mat presses a tender kiss on the bridge of your nose before he goes off to do what he does best, leaving you to emerge from your cocoon whenever you please.

You decide shortly after Mat departs to desert the covers, arranging them neatly with a sleepy pout set onto your puffy lips before starting your share of morning chores. Amidst the array of bits and bobs you cater to around your cosy home, you cook up a breakfast built for two - piping hot and ready to eat by the time Mat’s car pulls up the driveway. 

You drape your arms lazily around his nape, beaming a lovesick grin as you peck your long-time lover. “Good practice?”

“Great practice,” he breathes against you, minty fresh with the faint waft of his accompanying cologne. His strong arms pull you impossibly closer, your body snug in his embrace. “But I’ve got better things waiting for me right here.”

His large hands cup a handful of your butt, giving it a cheeky squeeze that involuntarily makes you jump against him, your cheeks crimsoning. “And to think, that’s the thanks I get for making us breakfast.”

Mat releases his grip as you back away, disbelief washing all over his sculpted features as he gives you a cocked eyebrow and a petty laugh. “Says the one who-”

Your hand comes up, an index finger raised. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Wordlessly, Mat holds his hands up in surrender, brazen-faced as you send him an eye-roll with crossed arms. Despite the circumstances, your hands find the top of his zipper, opening up his coat before you hang it up near the door in perfect routine. The selfless action still warrants one of your favourite kisses from your boyfriend, kisses from side-to-side - a kiss on the cheek, nose and cheek again. A simple action but one that robs you of all oxygen, a lightness in your limbs and a tingle down your spine. You soon turn around with Mat trailing not far behind as you venture back to your spacious kitchen, settling at the quaint table for two - a single vase rose separating your plates packed with all your breakfast favourites.

Before you have the chance to take your seat at your baby blue painted table, Mat comes up from behind you, cradling you in his sugary embrace as he plants a delicate kiss against your temple, your heart overflowing with the magic of your slow Sundays together. “How’d I get so lucky?”

You hum blissfully, a hand delicate against his stubble-ridden cheek as you simply exist together, limbs tangled as you savour the moment like sand slipping through your fingertips. A quick kiss against Mat’s prickly cheek puts a pause on the moment, your grin giddy as your hand takes Mat’s as you direct him to sit, which he does - no questions asked, fuschia dusted upon the apples of his cheeks.

You fall into perfect routine, your brunch a show that consists of all your favourites: Mat’s cutlery glimmering in the soft rays pouring into the windowed kitchen as he cuts his food, ceremoniously offering you the first bite of his food with the same smitten closed mouth smile that he had the first day he met you. Happily, you accept his generous offer and take a bite, beaming with full rosy cheeks as he swipes the crumbs with such an earnest shimmer in his eyes that it makes your heart squeeze with joy.

Your brunch continues in similar fashion, two enamoured partners basking in the company of another as you bond over a hearty plate of food, time lost in endless dialogues and timeless ‘I love you’s. When there’s nothing but crumbs speckled across your ceramic plates, Mat shoos you away before you can get a protest in, you resorting to sulking on the edge of couch as the sounds of plates clinking together competes with the noise coming from the TV. 

When everything’s said and done, the washing up dried and packed away, Mat shuffles into the lounge, falling into the couch with a grunt as he positions himself as close to you as possible. You can never bring yourself to mind, head falling to his broad shoulder once he’s propped his feet against the hickory coffee table with his arm circling your shoulders. Another kiss atop your head tells you he’s settled and you melt into his side, no objections sounding from your long-time boyfriend as reruns of 'The Bachelor' blare from the TV. If anything, Mat immerses just as much as you. Well, as much as the slightly fatigue man can as his fingers absently fiddle with locks of your hair, the gesture a lullaby that aids your sudden drowsiness that links hands with the warmth emitting from Mat’s body that always fits against yours like a puzzle piece.

Before you’re able to drift away into a shallow slumber, a slumber you both shall share prior to your simple plans for the day, Mat’s sleep-laced voice calls out to you. 

“Waking up next to you is the best part of my day.”

And you chuckle softly because of the simple fact you know this to be true - evidenced in the way affirmations of love fall so easily from his lips, in the way he never allows you to walk near any busy roads and buys you flowers just because. And, best of all, when your precious Sunday comes and goes, your Monday view consists of your beautiful boyfriend as you reverse out of your driveway, a sleepy smile mellowed into his features as he sees you off, hollering one and the same line wishing you a great day at work, which is nothing but granted if you’ve got him by your side. 

#mb13 #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x you #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #new york islanders #ny isles #ny islanders #residenthughes

[turtletaubwrites]

My Needy Girl ~ Part 4

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,707

This is part 4 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Series Link

Summary: You’re starting to question how safe your arrangement with your crewmate is. Zoro really wants to be the world’s greatest ‘swordsman.’ Someone on the crew might have heard you last night. Zoro might be taking it badly.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Mildly Dubious Consent, Reader-Insert, Smut, Flirting, Accidental Exhibitionism, Mention of Masturbation, Rough Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cock Warming, Dom Zoro, Swearing, lil angst, Casual Sex, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Hair-Pulling, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Condoms, Shameless Smut, Friends with Benefits, Crewmates with Benefits, Relationship Discussions, Zoro's a straight to the point kinda guy, and we love that, but now he needs to figure out what he wants

A/N: Oops, I accidentally wrote way too much again. Some character stuff, more crew interactions, lil angst?, and some build up to future installments. But there is smut at the end, I swear! I hope you enjoy, I'm excited for what's up next! 😊⚔

Somehow you’d managed to stay awake while Zoro slept easily, resting his head on your lap. You would have left on your own, but you couldn’t leave without waking the sleepy swordsman. He carried you, and he would brook no arguments.

All that time sitting there had driven you a bit crazy. Your body was still sore from the mind blowing abuse, the orgasms he’d ripped from you. But your mind was still reeling from your brief discussion of boundaries, followed immediately by the most possessive sex you’d ever had.

That’s just sex. He told you he wanted to stay casual, you agreed you could see other people.

Not that you wanted to. He was right. You couldn’t imagine going to anyone else when he’d be here, waiting to tear you apart like that again. 

This is dangerous.

What if I fall for him? What if he actually is that possessive, and it causes problems? What if I get hurt? What if I have to leave the crew because we can’t keep our shit together?

These fears had kept dancing in your mind, taking turns with your shivering memories of his rough hands on your skin.

You didn’t want to have these worries. You wanted to trust that he was honest with you and himself, and that you both could keep this strictly casual.

You wanted to keep space between you. 

How can I be sure he can keep his own distance? Keep that possessive nature just during sex?

You’d managed to fall asleep at some point, til Nami stuck her head into your room.

“Come on, sleepy head. You’ve gotta get breakfast before Luffy eats everything.”

Groaning, you looked in the mirror. Surprisingly, you only looked half dead. You did what you could quickly, then traipsed to the galley. 

Sitting yourself on the end of the table next to Luffy, you gratefully poured coffee into the mug that was waiting for you. Luffy scooted over to give you room before leaning over the table, and speaking with his mouth full. 

“Hey Zoro, have you been exercising in your room lately? You’ve been extra noisy.”

Nami narrowed her eyes at Zoro while you took a sip of your coffee, pretending you hadn’t heard Luffy’s hilarious question.

“Yeah, actually, I’ve uh, been working on some extra core strengthening exercises lately.”

Usopp chimed in after chugging some tangerine juice.

“Mind not doing them in the middle of the night, green guy? Some of us can’t nap seven times a day like you do.”

You joined the group in laughing, and kept your eyes away from Zoro’s.

Sanji appeared next to you, setting a plate down, the delicious scent making you sigh as your eyes fluttered closed. Having Sanji as the ship’s cook made you feel spoiled.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I made some cinnamon syrup for your pancakes, I know how much you enjoy it.”

“Oh, um, thank you Sanji.”

His smile deepened, and you looked away from his bright eyes.

Then the whole group went quiet as Sanji sat at the table next to you.

Normally, Sanji didn’t eat until the rest of the crew was finished. He’d never sat beside you during a meal that he'd cooked before. 

He reached across you to grab the coffee pot. The whole length of his thigh pressed against yours while he poured himself a drink. 

“Can I have some cinnamon syrup, Sanji? 

“You already ate 12 pancakes Luffy. I’ll make you cinnamon syrup tomorrow.”

You looked down at your tantalizing breakfast, body tingling from the heat of Sanji's firm leg still pressed against yours. You risked glancing up at Zoro, but he was too busy scowling at Sanji to notice. 

You spent the day cataloging the seeds and dried herbs on the ship. There were a few that you’d had to argue with Sanji about, agreeing to split whatever you found for kitchen use.

Thoughts of the cook this morning made your cheeks flush, and you shook your head. Sanji’s just being Sanji. 

You avoided the kitchen for lunch, enjoying a few snacks and tangerines on deck with Nami.

“Do the boys seem extra obnoxious lately, or is it just me?”

Your eyes widened at Nami’s words. You wanted to tell her everything, but didn’t want to risk her judgement. 

“It’s hard to tell, aren’t they always?”

“I guess.”

Nami picked at her nails before eyeing you again.

“Find any cool plants on the last island?”

Feeling a soft smile hit your lips, you leaned toward her, and shook your head.

“Nope, just picked up some rosemary and chamomile. We’re always running out.”

“Ohh, did you make more of that rosemary hair stuff?”

Chuckling, you nodded. 

“I have enough, I’ll make you some tomorrow. Chopper uses it too.”

“I can tell! He’s like a walking air freshener when he washes all that fur.”

Still giggling with Nami, your laugh got cut short when Zoro came out on deck with rage in his eyes.

“Someone didn’t get their beauty sleep.”

Nami had given a stage whisper, and Zoro scowled at her before starting his training routine. 

You had to go inside, otherwise you would have been drooling on deck while you watched him. 

Your work always had you bouncing between studying with Chopper, and making salves and tinctures in the kitchen. You chose Chopper today. 

“Hi Chopper!”

“Oh, hi, Y/N! What are you working on today?”

“I was going to ask you. Are we stocked up on salves?” I’ve got more aloe for burns if we need it.”

“We’re all set! I’m so glad we have you on board, it really helps me focus on learning more with you helping me make such good supplies!”

You grinned at Chopper, his cute, sweet face had been planted into medical books when you interrupted.

You decided against spending the rest of the day in the kitchen. They can wait on their rosemary oil for another day.

By the time dinner came around, you were feeling more yourself. Until you walked in and saw both Zoro and Sanji look at you. Rushing to your seat, you knocked over your glass while reaching for the carafe of water. Luckily Robin’s many hands caught it. You thanked her, but she just tilted her head at you inquisitively.

There’s no way we can keep this secret for long. 

You fought again not to glance at Zoro, afraid that one look would make everyone see what you’d been doing together. 

Sanji appeared next to you again, and you startled.

“Apologies, beautiful. I was just checking that what you have is enough to satisfy you. If not, I’m sure I can provide something more to your liking.”

It sounded like normal Sanji banter, but your pulse raced when you met his eyes. They’d dilated a bit, making them dark, and you realized you hadn’t responded.

Sanji winked at you, and now you were sure he seemed a little more forward than even he normally was. Nami interrupted, saving you from your stunned silence.

“Ew, gross, Sanji. Quit making Y/N uncomfortable, and go bring us dessert”

Sanji kept his smirking eyes on yours for another moment before bowing, and excusing himself to the pantry.

You flicked your eyes toward Zoro, and caught him staring after Sanji like he was about to pull out his swords in the kitchen.

You made a face at your tea, and Luffy poked you with a stretched finger on the forehead.

“You okay, Y/N? Your face has been red a lot lately. Do you have a fever?”

You held in a laugh as Usopp scooched away from your potential illness, while Robin sent hands across the table to touch your forehead.

“Y/N’s fine, you boys just need to stop bothering her. Nami, why don’t you raise their interest if they don’t?”

You laughed at their outrage while Nami grinned at you. 

Glancing at Zoro, you saw that his jaw was still clenched as he watched for Sanji’s return. 

As the group stretched, some yawning and heading to bed, Sanji cleared his throat behind you. 

“Y/N, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind helping me. I’d like to stock up on some infused oils so I don’t have to make them daily. Would you give me the honor of assisting me?”

You felt Robins calculating eyes, and Zoro’s penetrating gaze, but couldn’t think of a reason why you shouldn’t help out.

Sanji beamed when you agreed, and you busied yourself grabbing the tools, avoiding everyone’s eye contact as they left.

Zoro seemed to be acting possessive, but you couldn’t tell if it was just his general dislike of the cook, or if he would be this possessive around anyone you get close to. Or if he would want more from you.

You didn’t like the thought of testing it out. 

I need to stop this now if he can’t handle being casual. I can’t risk that.

Sanji’s warm presence beside you was so calming. You worked together, talking softly, laughing at jokes, and grinning at his praise. He’d always been too much, and the way he hits on every woman in sight made your eyes roll. But he really is good company.

Finishing up, you carefully labeled each bottle with the date and ingredients while he started on the clean up. You joined him at the counter to dry the dishes, shivering when his fingers would touch yours for too long.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Can I make you some tea?”

You returned to the table, watching him work after you agreed.

Sanji sat across from you, and the air seemed hot, not just from the steam of the tea. 

“Y/N, I need to be honest with you.”

“About what, Sanji?”

He pulled back, looking ashamed.

“I, um. I heard your conversation here last night.”

Your mouth fell open as you remembered. Trying to get Zoro to talk about boundaries. Zoro rubbing your hand along his cock before dragging you out of your seat to go fuck in his quarters.

“Wh-Why did you listen?”

You felt very still, not sure what emotion to feel.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was coming back to prep for the morning meal. I should have interrupted or left. But I heard, and I had to make sure you were okay. I didn’t like the way he spoke to you.”

You watched the muscles in Sanji’s jaw clench.

“Are you going to tell anyone?”

Sanji’s eyes went wide, leaning forward.

“I would never, Y/N! But I will kill him if he hurts you.”

You stared, realizing that he was completely serious.

“Thank you, he’s not hurting me, Sanji. We just have an arrangement.”

Sanji scoffed, and you raised your brows.

“I’m sure that Mosshead is perfectly happy with his arrangement. Happy to take and take.”

Sanji set his hand on the table next to yours, a few fingers trailing along the edges of yours. Chills ran up your body as you looked back into his darkened eyes.

“You deserve someone who will give and give to you. Someone who values your pleasure more than their own.”

“How would you- You listened to that too, didn’t you?”

He pulled his hand back, and ran it through his hair. He sat back from you, lighting a cigarette. I’m actually starting to enjoy that smell. Fuck.

“I know, it was wrong. But he was so rough with you in the kitchen. I was worried he would hurt you too much.”

Your breathing got heavy at the thought of Sanji listening in while Zoro fucked you into oblivion. Of him listening to your muffled moans and screams, hearing you beg for Zoro’s cock. 

You met Sanji’s eyes again, feeling heat pooling between your legs. His eyes were trained on your parted lips, your breathing hot. Your brain seemed to shut off as other parts of you took the wheel.

“Did you touch yourself while you listened to me?”

“N-No, Y/N, I...”

His eyes looked panicked, and you watched his tongue push forward slightly to wet his lips.

“Please don’t lie.”

Your words came out strained, and Sanji glanced at your breasts as they heaved with your breathing.

“I-I’m sorry. It was so wrong. I just… the sounds you made…”

Your eyes flew back in your head, a small moan escaped your lips. You felt the table shift, as if Sanji had thrust toward you at your sound. 

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth hanging open, but he pulled himself together.

“Let me show you, beautiful. Let me give you what you need. Let me take care of you.”

Sanji’s pleading made your skin hot, and you felt wetness seeping through your clothes at the thought of him taking you right now on the kitchen table. 

But you managed to keep your head enough, trying to keep a fucking handle on something. 

“I-I can’t. Not yet.”

Sanji stared, waiting. The word ‘yet’ seemed to hook him.

“I made an arrangement. I have to make sure that’s okay first. Then we can talk.”

You traced one finger along his hand, pulling it away before you pulled him toward you. 

Sanji looked like part of him wanted to be angry when you mentioned the arrangement, but the rest of him seemed to be practically drooling.

I wonder if he’ll listen in again.

That thought sent you shivering as you went to find the swordsman.

You didn’t have to go far.

Zoro was waiting for you in the hall. Your breath felt trapped in your throat at his expression. He nodded toward his quarters and you started moving, his body radiating heat behind you. 

When you made it inside, he closed the door quietly, then shoved you against the wall. 

“Zoro, I- Zoro!”

You cried out as Zoro shoved his hand down the front of your pants, fingers slipping into your folds from how wet Sanji’s confession had made you. 

Zoro pulled his fingers from you, and you slumped against the wall as he shoved them into his mouth. 

“Zoro…”

“It’s all good, Needy. Go fuck the cook if you want to. I know he won’t be enough for your tasty, needy little cunt.”

You moaned, but tried to pull yourself together. Your voice came out high and breathy.

“I don’t want what we’re doing together to cause issues. Tell me if you’re not okay with this.”

“I’m okay, Needy. You can fuck everyone on the ship if you want. I know who you’ll be begging for.”

You moaned again as Zoro started trailing his hand down your stomach, crawling back down to your center.

“But Zoro, why? Why are you claiming me? We shouldn’t be doing this if it’s already causing prob- unf…”

Zoro had shoved two fingers inside of you, and was curling them right against that needy spot. 

“You want me to stop, Y/N? You want me to stop giving you what you need?”

His fingers went faster, and you were panting, hanging onto the wall. 

“Tell me you want me to stop making you feel good.”

You moaned, your body so close to the brink already.

“Well, what do you need me to do?”

“D-Don’t stop, Zoro, pleease.”

Your desperate whine made him groan, thrusting against your thigh while his fingers kept going.

With his free hand he dug through his pocket, and shoved a condom at you, before pulling himself out of his pants.

“Put this on my dick now, before I take you without it.”

He groaned again at the feeling of your pussy clenching his fingers at that threat. 

“You’d fucking like that wouldn’t you?”

You scrambled to open the wrapper, crying out as you touched him, smoothing the condom down his length. 

Gasping as Zoro withdrew his fingers from you, you whined pathetically, begging for him. 

“There she is. My Needy girl. Come here.”

Zoro tore your pants off, then sat with you straddling him on his chair. 

He made you lift up, gasping as you hovered over him. Smirking, he pulled your panties aside, and forced you to slam onto his swollen cock. 

You felt tears stinging your eyes as you fought your scream. 

“So good at staying quiet, huh, Y/N. Just a hungry little kitten, crying for some attention.”

You were lost, the feeling of his long cock hilted within you, but not moving, was making you feel feral. You tried to move your hips, to fuck him, but Zoro laughed and held your hips in place. 

“Nuh uh. You’ve gotta earn it now. Just sit still, and keep my cock warm, Needy.”

You slumped against his shoulder, twitching with every slight movement. He was so long and it almost hurt, but you knew if he just moved a little it would take you there. You continued struggling for friction, but he just gripped you in place and chuckled at your distress.

“Wh-What do you want Zo-Zoro?”

Digging your nails into his arms to stay steady, you watched his smug face. 

“I just want you to remember how it feels to have my cock inside you. I want you to think about it, all day everyday.”

You couldn’t help your whimpers as he leaned forward to breathe the next words along your neck.

“I want you to crave my cock, even when he’s fucking you. I want you to remember that no one can fuck you like I can. The cook will just warm you up for me.”

He laughed then, and bit your ear.

“Maybe I should thank him. He’ll get you ready for me. All warmed up, your hungry cunt dripping wet, so I can fuck you even harder than I have been. How does that sound, Needy?”

Zoro had thrust up into you to emphasize your nickname, and you were a desperate mess. 

All you could do was drag your drooling lips along his neck and shoulder, scratching uselessly at his arms while you begged, practically sobbing.

“Please, Zoro. Yes please, fuck. I need you, pleeease.”

His hand gripped into your hair, and you stopped breathing as he stared down at you. 

“That’s right, Y/N. I’m the one who can give you what you need.”

If you’d known how to respond, you couldn’t. Zoro used the fingers in your hair, and the hand at your waist as leverage to start shoving you onto his cock, over and over. You came so quickly, and he growled, invading your mouth with his tongue. Tears kept streaming down your face as he kept thrusting up into you through your orgasm. His rough hands and mouth kept you trapped on his cock, his tongue muffling your screams.

He pulled away from your lips, leaving you gasping. 

“Tell me you need my cock, baby.”

You moaned for him, your body almost taking you there again for him. 

“Finger yourself, and tell me how much you need my fucking dick.”

The demand in his words made your eyes roll back. You reached for your clit, slippery with your overwhelming pleasure. 

“I love your cock Zoro. I-I need to feel your cock in me everyday, it’s so fucking good!”

Zoro groaned, his eyes clamping shut as his thrusts slowed, erratic. You could feel him start to pulse inside you, it sent you screaming while you came again. Zoro managed to cover your mouth with a hand while he fucked into you through his own orgasm and yours, until he collapsed against the back of the chair, your body slumped onto his. 

Thoughts were out of reach as you convulsed in his arms. 

Then you gasped as his warm palm started smoothing along your spine, then rubbed in gentle circles. 

He kept twitching inside you, and you kept clenching around him, so he stood with a grunt, lifting you and settling you into his hammock. He cleaned himself up while you closed your eyes, still not back to reality. 

Then Zoro was leaning toward you, running a hand lightly along your arms. 

“I’m sorry I keep interrupting you when you want to talk.”

You choked out a laugh, and had to clear your throat a few times before replying.

“I have enjoyed the interruptions.”

His satisfied smirk made you grin. 

“But we’ve got to be clear on this. As much as I love what you’re doing to me-”

Zoro bit his lip, eyes filling with heat again.

“-we can’t keep this up if it’s going to affect how we act as part of the crew.”

He furrowed his brows, taking a breath. You pushed through, trying to say everything before he distracted you again. 

“I don’t think starting a romantic relationship would be smart. It could end very badly for everyone. I think a casual arrangement to fulfill our needs could be perfect, but only if we don’t let our feelings get in the way.”

He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. 

“You just want to fuck the cook.”

You choked again, wanting to laugh, but not sure if he was joking or not. 

“I want us to be very clear about what is and isn’t okay. What do we do if one of us wants to fuck someone else, or starts falling for someone else? How do we handle that, talk about it? What  if one of us starts feeling serious about each other?”

Your face felt hot, but you kept going. 

“I can’t risk losing my place on this crew. Even if it means I don’t get to enjoy our time together again. I need you to seriously think about what you want and need, and what your boundaries are.”

Zoro looked serious, almost sad.

"Zoro, I want to know if how you treat me when we, uh- I need to know how you feel about me, and us right now. Before we get in too deep."

Struggling to get yourself off the hammock, his rough hands helped you steady yourself. 

You pulled your pants on, still wobbling a bit, before you placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him. 

“Let me know when you figure it out. I can wait.”

You left Zoro’s quarters, and didn’t look for eavesdroppers as you snuck to your room. 

Thank you for reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

Part 5

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#zoro smut #zoro x reader #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #My writing #mine #One Piece smut #Opla smut #opla zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro fanfic #zoro fanfiction #x reader #turtletaub fics

[yurislotusgarden]

Just you and me

ʚїɞ Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Edogawa Ranpo x reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ Word count: 556

ʚїɞ Short hc's for Valentines! Was meant to post something else but won't be done with it today so have this small thing I wrote rq! <3

He almost always wakes up before you, and most of the time it's a quiet time that he uses to admire your pretty face

Lil soft kisses on your face <3

But it's Dazai so he added a small amount of tickling to help with waking you up

Don't blame him, he just loves hearing your laughter

He for once didn't try to fuck up in the kitchen on purpose and tried his best

He got you a necklace that looked like it costed a lot, but when you asked he said he saved up money to buy it (You knew it was a lie, but didn't know that he stole money from Kunikida AND Chuuya’s bank accounts <33)

It was a surprise to no one that he didn't show up at the agency that day, but not even Kunikida had any big problems with it

Listen, don't question why he's paying for everything was that Kunikida’s credit card? Who's black card was that?

Don't worry he did pay for some things with his own money, he did save up something

Stayed out to look at the night sky, and you could swear that the stars were just a bit more brighter than usual

You thought he spoiled you before? Get ready bcs he WON'T miss a day where he can get away with it

Normally he would listen to you saying he doesn't have to spend so much money on you (in one day bcs we all know he will never stop) but not on occasions like this

Will wake you up so softly ugh :(

Soft kisses all over your face, gentle hand on your cheek, waist or hip

He will have breakfast ready so that you don't need to leave the bed too early

Won't leave you alone nor stop with compliments, but it's not like you're complaining

He will use any excuse to get you something

Got one of the days off to be on the valentines so he can take you out for the whole day

Ignore how he's staring at you with a small smile and soft eyes the whole day, he won't stop no matter what you say

Looked at something longer than 2 seconds? Oops it's suddenly in a bag in your hands

“Chuu, I don't need this.”

“I want you to have it though.”

Walking along the water side to look at the sunset <3

Ranpo

I swear he was more annoying in the morning than usual on purpose

Was surprisgly quiet while you were making breakfast tho

He told you he had a case and that you should go with him as per usual

You went to the place just for Ranpo to reveal that there's no actual case and it was just a lie to get you out into the city

He actually did save up some money to buy you something nice unlike certain someone

A lot of it went into sweets anyway, but he did share more than usual so, you didn't really complain

You both ignored calls from Kunikida and he just gave up at one point

You had to go back pretty early because you didn't wanna risk losing this man child after dark😭

Still looked at the stars from the rooftop of the agency dorms while laying on a blanket <3

#gonna edit later bcs i don't have ranpos banner on my phone LMAO #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #x reader #bungo stray dogs #dazai x reader #bsd chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #ranpo x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #ranpo x you #ranpo x y/n

[thegoodwitchglinda]

First Meet

malleus draconia x reader

reader is not yuu and is placed in pomefiore

summary: you’re a new student at NRC who caught the attention of malleus draconia, and he makes it his mission to recruit you for his club and get to know you.

p.s this is a repost of an older fic I wrote and then deleted, in case it seems familiar to anyone. The structuring may be different, though.

—————————————

The hustle and bustle in and around the hallways of NRC was something you’d have to grow used to, being a new student here was exciting, and also the cause of a little nervousness. It was reminiscent of your first day at school. It was of little surprise to you when you were initially placed in pomefiore, despite it seeming that many of the students there were carbon copies of each other and that you didn’t perfectly fit the mould, you appreciated beauty and perfection.

No longer feeling like a deer in headlights, now that your first couple of days had past, you felt it necessary to go for a wander, and explore the school you were destined to spend the next four years in. It was a spectacle to behold, the school was made in resemblance of the finest castles and littered with intricacies despite its large size. At certain points and corners of the school, you could even observe many different gargoyles and grotesques and even though you may not have not known a lot about them or the differences, they caught the interest of your artistic eye.

After nightfall, you headed out with a canvas in tow. Partly (mostly) because you didn’t want to appear strange by painting a picture behind the school, during the middle of the day, but there was also a nice serenity that accompanied the quiet of the night and the dark, enthralling sky, lit with stars.

Malleus was out on one his daily, late-night escapades, and this time saw an unfamiliar person en route. Usually, this would be something to ignore, but this time it was a little different. They were quite studiously examining a gargoyle, and eloquently relaying it’s features onto a canvas.

Perhaps clouded in a moment of hope, the fae forewent any thoughts that the person may not have any personal interest in gargoyles, but rather just the art that they were to produce, instead, he set his sights on recruiting them as a member of his club.

After roughly an hour and a half had passed since you’d initially went out, you decided it was time to pack up and go back to pomefiore. You opened the door to your room quietly, careful not to wake any of your other roommates up, and went to sleep - completely unaware of who you’ve recently intrigued.

Morning arrived, and the sunlight seeped through the windows, letting you know it was time to wake. After letting your eyes adjust to the light, you got up and readied yourself for the day. There was of course still a hint of mysticism that accompanied attending NRC, but there was also a newly found comfort in the normalcy you’d just attained.

Having finished a fair share of your classes for the day without any major difficulty, your next stop was to the cafeteria for lunch. There were always a surprising amount of options available, and you were in the middle of deciding which one to pick, when something - or rather someone would happen to snap your newfound normalcy right in half.

Wait, what was happening right now? THE Malleus Draconia had waltzed up to you and started talking out of nowhere? Well, this was unexpected. You looked around to make sure he was definitely talking to you, but with how he was staring right at you and how everyone else was occupied with their own business, he was definitely talking to you.

“And I do believe that you would make a good member of the Gargoyle Study Club, if you would like to join.”

Oh, oops. You hadn’t really listened to most of what he’d said, but why was he wanting you to join a study club for gargoyles? Was that even a thing? You looked up at him, only to notice the seriousness on his face. It seemed that this was something he truly cares about, and honestly despite the randomness of it all, you couldn’t help but find it a little cute. Not wanting the situation to turn awkward and not knowing what else to say, you plastered a dorky smile on your face and said “Sure, I can do that!”

His eyes started to sparkle like a child on Christmas at your response, before he nodded and walked away again. This was actually a pretty good thing, in all honesty! With how exclusive and secluded this school is, you didn’t have any previous connections or friendships with anyone around, and joining a club would be a great way to solve the issue.

There was one small problem though, you couldn’t recall Malleus giving any details about when or where the club was. You’d just have to find out on your own, after you’ve eaten your lunch, that was.

The day had ended and ultimately you’d obtained no new information about said club, it seemed like most people didn’t even know that there was a gargoyle study club. Could this have just been an annoying prank?

Maybe, but he did seem quite serious… it was a good thing you’d made a mental note of the green band around his arm when he’d originally started talking to you. He was a diasomnia student, and tomorrow was a Saturday. That was your mind made up, you’d just have to ask Malleus for details about the club yourself.

Once again, daytime struck and you got ready, this time heading for diasomnia, instead of the main building of NRC. When you arrived, you noticed that their dormitory was also quite fantastical, it was however quite different from the interior of pomefiore.

Now that you were here, you felt like a fish out of water, and you also couldn’t be sure if malleus would even be here or where he would be, but it’s not like you’d be here for long anyways. Your eyes landed on a tall boy, that stood out due to his light green hair that was slicked back. Might as well ask him, right?

Hesitantly you walked up to him and greeted him to catch his attention. As if he could immediately tell you weren’t a student of his dorm, he gazed at you with a look of scrutiny. …aha, that was off-putting but you’d already started talking to him, might as well finish it, right? “Hi, do you know where I can find malleus, or if he’s even here?” Seemingly upon hearing the fae’s name, the green-haired boy went off on a tangent. Switching between droning on about how perfect malleus is and how a ‘mere human’ shouldn’t even think of interacting with him. It was as if he was having an argument with himself, and if his boisterous shouting wasn’t directed towards you, would’ve been quite funny.

Upon hearing the commotion, another boy you hadn’t seen before decided to make an appearance. He asked you why you were looking for their dorm leader, but not before scolding the other boy for making a commotion before even hearing you out. You explained that you were looking for him to ask for details about the club he’d invited to you, much to the surprise of the two infront of you.

The second boy simply let out a chuckle, “I think our Malleus is finally making friends! You’ll be able to find him in the library.” You nodded and thanked the boy before leaving, diasomnia having certainly left a unique impression on you. After arriving at the library, it didn’t take long to find the man you’d been looking for. He was sitting in the library, focused on reading a cook-book. He looked quite elegant and paired with his focus and not wanting to disrupt his reading, you were slightly apprehensive about approaching him.

Luckily or unluckily, you didn’t have to, because he picked up on your absentminded staring, and approached you himself. “Did you need something, Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s about that club you mentioned, I wasn’t too sure about when or where it was, or even if I needed to officially sign up, I was wondering if you could tell me about it?”

Malleus looked contemplative for a second before speaking, “Yes, it seems that I’ve neglected to properly inform you.” Malleus continued, giving you the details on the club, and to your surprise it seemed that the club was in fact, a real thing. Solving the mystery of the gargoyle club let you enjoy the rest of your weekend, all the way up until Monday.

Once again, it was lunch, and this time you were going to spend it with malleus whilst studying gargoyles. You walked out to the front of the school, spotted malleus, and said hello. You were however, wondering where everyone else was. When you asked, malleus kept up a neutral facade, but felt slightly defeated in having to say, “regrettably we are the only two current members”

Oh, well I guess that explains why barely anyone knew about the club. It seemed kind of sad though, being the only one fascinated enough with gargoyles and running a club all by himself, wasn’t he lonely?

No matter, the two of you would just have to make the most of it! Malleus showed you many different gargoyles around the school, it was nice for you, getting to discover a little more of NRC, though Malleus was also a little surprised by how inquisitive you were - his assumption that you were also a gargoyle enthusiast seems to have been incorrect.

Regardless, he enjoyed it, your lack of knowledge surrounding the subject allowed him to discuss and explain his passion to another person who was willing to listen. To you, it was quite endearing how someone regarded as a person to be scared of was also at heart just another normal person, getting incredibly excited and focused about an unusual topic.

These meetings, as a club activity were weekly, but it didn’t take very long for you and malleus to genuinely become friends, every now and then you’d wave to each other in the halls - and your weekly meet-ups were no longer strictly about gargoyles. The two of you would take the time to talk about your day or anything new catching either of your interests.

A couple of months into your friendship, you’d realised you hadn’t even exchanged numbers with malleus, so you asked him about it. Instead of getting his phone number though, you found that he was truly quite… hopeless with technology. This was unexpected for someone like malleus, considering how knowledgeable and apt he was with just about everything. One thing it wasn’t though, was an issue.

It was your turn to take the dragon man by surprise when you’d sent a carrier pigeon to his window, with a letter clutched between its claws. Not having many friends here aside from his dorm-mates, who could freely speak to him in person, had him questioning who the letter was from, could it have been someone from Briar Valley? No, it was just you, his first friend.

The letter was penned in purple ink, and with no specific subject matter, simply talking about random things and asking questions about his well-being. Malleus smiled, holding the letter in his hands, it felt nice having someone care for him instead of being scared of him. But recently he may have started thinking that it’s also nice to care about another person.

He tucked the letter away into a drawer, but it would take him a little longer to tuck it away in his thoughts, as he started penning back his response. And again, just like your Monday meetings, penning letters back and forth quickly became the normal between the two of you.

Despite the familiarity he now associated with you, there was a strange unfamiliarity to the whole situation. Never in malleus’s life did he thing he’d be snuggling into the crook of a human’s neck, whilst listening to them read, studying with someone else, being friends and being vulnerable with someone else. It felt like he’d experienced a lot of firsts with you, and that was something he wanted to continue doing.

Yes, that was right. He’d have to come to terms with it. He cherished you, the way you could make him feel special, how you’d accepted his quirks with open arms and befriended him regardless of your weird, first meet, the way you took an interest in him - exactly how he’d taken an interest in you. That’s why he had to come to terms with it when he cupped your hand in his and said ever-so-gently that he loved you.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus #twst x reader #dtw

[yongislong]

back scratching + dreamies.

genre: fluff AAAAGH, suggestive? i can never tell lmao nonidol!dreamies

note: no cws just tooth rotting fluff, tysm for requesting anon! i hope you enjoy this... word vomit pfft. not proofread im studying GAHH

mark... adores it when you scratch his back. never knows how to ask for it though HAHA. melts every time you do it. especially likes it when you do it to him before bed or as a way to let him know that the sun has risen. its one of the moments in your relationship that is most intimate if that makes sense? he finds comfort in sitting in silence with you after a long day, as the scratching noises break through the silence in your shared room :")

renjun... is so ticklish. honestly prefers to do it to you but he cant help but curl into your side whenever you scratch his back even if he's practically convulsing under you from how much it tickles. will flat out ask you to do it, but he always needs to be in a specific mood since it doesn't happen often! usually asks for it on days where he's been hunched over his computer for a long time and his back is in more pain than usual

jeno... human cat fr. LOVES it when you do it especially if you have longer nails. he feels recharged and it always helps him fall asleep so fast. if you wear fake nails OH MY GOSH he will never ever stop asking you to rub his back, its become a nightly routine after the first time. he will do it to you sometimes but he always falls asleep so quickly that it bothers you pft, his dead weight lands on your back when its only been 10 minutes. likes it when you scratch his abdomen too. just likes feeling your nails rake over his soft skin

haechan... makes it a game LOL. has you write words on his back and he takes his turns trying to guess the phrase you wrote or guess the letters you're tracing. gets SO excited when he guesses right and pulls you in closer. asks for it without words. will always rest his body on your lap and you know that's your cue to get to scratching. the biggest content smile is plastered on his face, even in his sleep! likes it when you scratch closer towards the small of his back since thats where most of his pain is, or so he says lol

jaemin... so so so kind my babygirl. it kinda just happens. he's resting his head on your chest and his big broad shoulders are in perfect view, its kinda hard not to scratch his back esp when he sleeps with no shirt on. so tempting. his skin is so soft and he MELTSS. also likes to play games with you, especially one night when you traced a heart on his back and his pulse SOARED. makes it a point to grab your wrist and tuck your hand under his shirt or drape it along his bare shoulders whenever he wants it from you. also falls asleep really fast. ticklish around the waist OOP

chenle... wake him up with back scratches PLEASE. i feel like he ends up facing away from you during his sleep so in the morning, raking your fingers up and down his spine softly jolts him awake and its so cute. always acts like its his first time on earth when he wakes up btw LMAO. enjoys it so much. prefers if you use your finger tips because he gets itchy whenever you use your nails HAHA. he's so domestic though. he acts like an old man who's been with you for years. grumbles about how nice your fingers feel until his rant is cut short by his snoring

jisung... god he is so. that boy is a Child. truly the most genuinely nice and pure soul. if you were to ever scratch his back, i think you would feel how he would physically sink into the mattress or couch. has never had a partner before so is pretty timid about asking for back scratches but he really really enjoys them. always insists that he return the favor though! clings to you like a koala. makes it a point to make this a ritual since he finds such fun in it. helps him calm down on nights where his anxiety or nightmares are bad. can't help but get flustered every time you dip your palm under the collar of his shirt

#nct fluff #nct blurb #nct reactions #nct soft blurbs #nct soft hours #nct college au #nct icons #nct 127 fluff #nct dream headcanons #nct dream fluff #renjun fluff #jeno fluff #mark lee fluff #mark fluff #jaemin fluff #haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #jisung fluff #chenle fluff #7dream #nct headcannons #nct dream reactions #nct reader insert #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #7dream fluff #nct dream comfort #nct dream college au #nct dream fic

[fictitiousmagines]

You've Already Got Me Wrapped Around Your Finger Part 4

You couldn't imagine my delight, when you invited me to a mid-day picnic after you poured your heart out to me in the stacks at Mooney's. I'd wanted to kiss you, so desperately, but heroes wait for their moment.

And you are a vision here in this bustling park, the pale blue sun dress and the same ole tote that you sling over your shoulder. You are a vision. You're effortless, in a way that people try to emulate but never quite measure up to.

You blush and babble as you unpack a spread of cheese, crackers and fruit. As you unpack, your most prized possession tumbles from the depths of your tote: your journal. You've mentioned in passing, that you draw and write in there and its the only time you feel like you can be yourself. I am Captain Ahab and your journal is my white whale.

"Oops," Y/N says while quickly stuffing it back in. Its a deep green with tattered corners but she touches it with such tenderness.

I hope you can be yourself with me, Y/N. I hope you can tell that I'm here to save you. I'm here to take care of you.

It was an absolutely perfect day: the picnic, the train back to our little part of New York City, the leisurely ride home, kissing you on your porch.

Your lips were so soft, Y/N. They're almost a drug. The way I got lost in the moment and buried my hands into your soft hair. Pulling away, you looked up at me with a look that only can be described as vulnerable. Beautiful. I wanted to take you right there. But instead I stroked your cheek with my thumb and reassured you that I had a wonderful time. That I couldn't wait to see you again.

When you texted me later that night, you pulled me out of my reading. But you are always a welcome distraction.

"Thanks again for the beautiful day together. Wanna grab a drink later this week? PS. I lost my journal, maybe on the train? I'm bummed! Does Mooney's sell blank journals?"

I don't answer because I immediately plan on buying you one and bringing it to you in the morning. A nice one. And each time you pour your soul into its pages, you'll think of me.

It was irresistible grabbing it out of your bag on the train. Your attention was on the loud commotion to your right. In an instant, it went from your bag, to my backpack. Hidden under the picnic blanket.

Maybe I'll buy you a new bag, one with a zipper. I don't want anyone pickpocketing you. Anyone could grab your wallet and get your personal information. I just wanna keep you safe. Not everyone is going to have your best intentions at heart. But I do.

I've been worried about you, Y/N. This is just my way of checking on you. I'm sure you're worried about overloading me. About having too much baggage, but you could never be too much for me. The more I read, the more fascinated I became.

I learned from your journal, new things but also things I only suspected. Like, that your dads care overwhelms you sometimes. Even though you love your dad dearly. That you worry that it might be time to put him in a home, even though your heart couldn't bear it. That your brother resists helping you, even though you work round the clock. That you miss your mother. And rereading The Outsiders makes you feel more connected to her.

Your art is always so gestural. So much feeling.

My heart stopped when I saw that you even wrote about me.

You wrote about meeting me at the shop. Our coffee together. And even about eating bodega sandwiches in the stacks of Mooney's. How I made you feel safe at that moment.

"I don't want to get ahead of myself, but I think I like this guy Joe."

#joe goldberg x you #joe goldberg fanfic #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg imagine #joe goldberg imagines #joe goldberg #You imagine #you imagines #penn badgley x reader #penn badgley imagine #penn badgley

[nolita-fairytale]

hi gen! hope this finds you well!!!! and hope i’m not late to the party… but i’ve been thinking about luca having a long distance relationship. and since most of the time chefs have cooking as an act of care, could you think of hc for luca in this situation?

@translatemunson thanks for sending this one in.

dating chef luca long distance: a headcanon

dating chef luca long distance would look like:

while luca works early most mornings, the two of you make sure to keep in touch. texts, voice memos, phone calls and facetimes when you can because he wants to connect with you as often as possible.

luca is always sending you tiktoks/instagram reels once he's off work -- things he thinks you might enjoy. you love to send pics back and forth: things you're doing, a great meal you had, a selfie when you have something funny to tell him or just when you miss him.

luca does not have read receipts and neither do you because truly, read receipts are unhinged and just make everyone involved anxious. (not me coming for read receipts, oops)

you try to physically see each other every 1 - 3 months, depending on where you're located, at least until your make it to your long distance end date. hear me out: i think that luca is going to move to you. "there will always be work for me as a chef, babe. and i want to be with you."

the week before a scheduled trip, it feels like time can't move any faster. you normally don't have too much trouble with distance, aside from missing him, but that week leading up to always feels agonous.

speaking of, leading up to a trip, luca busies himself with planning out menus, things he wants to make you, places he wants to take you, knowing that food is such a strong love language for the both of you.

the moment you reunite is always so sweet. in some ways, you don't mind the distance because it always feels so exciting when you see him for the first time after a few weeks to months apart. and can we talk about the reunion sex?! it is hot, hot, hot and it's the first thing the both of you want to do when you're reunited. (fully projecting here because i once had a long distance relationship and that ways always the first thing we did).

when you're not together... i don't think you and luca are big sexters... per say... but the man will indulge in phone sex when the mood strikes. just picture it. that deep voice over the phone telling you to touch yourself?! asking you how it feels? moaning with the phone on speaker while you tell him how much you need him?! how you can't wait to be together, jfc.

every day with him feels special, whether it be luca making you breakfast in bed or the two of you just doing nothing together, watching movies, cooking something together. he makes the most mundane of things feel like magic because the man has your heart.

somedays are harder than others, and you feel like you're missing out -- when his hair is longer, when he finds a new cafe that's become routine for him but is something you're only just finding out about -- and it makes your heart ache for the day that you get to live in the same city together.

long distance is hard, but you and luca make it as easy as possible by being kickass communicators and by meeting each other halfway. on the days it feels harder than others, you hold space for each other, recognizing that, while normally you feel good about it... you really fucking miss each other.

i know i wrote this in burn your life down but i stand by it: luca is a letter writer. perhaps after a particular tough day where you're missing the hell out of him, luca decides to surprise you by sending you some snail mail. you receive it a few days to a week later (depending on where you are in the world) and the care and love he poured into this surprise reminds you that it's all worth it.

this song and these lyrics make me think of dating luca long distance, so i will leave us on this note:

"so, can we strip down to our vitals? i'm obsessed with your design and I've missed your soul forever" -- superbloodmoon, holly humberstone & d4vid

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #nolita fairytale's follower celebration #nolita fairytale’s follower celebration

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

‘just kill me and be done with it’

Based off an ask by @rochyu ‘where y/n was Aemonds wife (daemon and rhaenyra daughter) was attacked by some guards who had been sent to assassinate him. She was pregnant’ 

Warnings below the cut~

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist  

Warnings: threat of noncon, murder, gore, blood

A/N: I got inspired and wrote this basically in two days, but I am not super happy with it oops. I changed the request a bit because it initially included noncon but I don’t really wanna write that, so changed it slightly, hope that’s ok requester!

It was an abnormally quiet evening in the Keep. You adored moments like these in such a busy environment, after all the hatred and war that had developed between your families. You sat in your usual large armchair, a dress laid in your lap that you were fixing various holes in, eyes squinting to focus on the tiny, fine detailing. 

A small laughter filled the air and you looked ahead to the two little people sat before the fire, the flames illuminating their silver-gold heads. You smile softly at Helaena’s twins, oh how you doted on the two innocent little souls. It was rare that you enjoyed moments like this on twin-watching duty as Helaena was very rarely out of the Keep. But all three of Alicent’s children had gone to retrieve their fourth sibling, Daeron, from Oldtown to join in the war, Alicent having gone with them. Leaving you in the safety of the servants and some of the Kingsguard to protect you.

You and Aemond had been married many years and at the time, it had been to mend the rift between the two sides of your family caused by Luke slicing Aemond’s eye on that fateful night at Driftmark. Back then, you had been used by your parents Rhaenyra and Daemon as a tool to bring the family closer together, as Viserys was alive then, it was paramount to keep up appearances. When you turned ten and seven, the wedding came and when Aemond had cloaked you to bring you under his protection that day, you felt afraid. You did not know what this Aemond was like.

But on that wedding night he insisted on treating you with great care and delicacy, taking every fear you had to heart and promising to fix whatever was broken. The memories of that night, even years later, were the most happy ones you had and all the days and months that came after sought to rival it. For such a man with a reputation even in the Keep, he was sensitive, delicate, caring and most of all loving to his Princess.

Even though you had yet to be blessed with children, it was not for lack of trying, but now as the years passed you began to believe it may be an issue that lies with you. And for this, you felt like you were not a worthy wife. A fact which Aemond denied endlessly. 

He seemed the only person in your life that attempted to lift your spirits, at such a tumultuous time like this. Your parents, of whom you would love unconditionally, were now on the other side of the war and had not attempted to contact you since waging the war for Rhaenyra’s throne. Daemon, on the other hand, would not be so forgiving. Even going as far to refuse the marriage at the time of your betrothal, he was doubly angered that you were married even now. For now, you belonged to the greens and he felt as if he had lost his daughter to them.

Despite Aemond only having left this morning, you felt the ache of loneliness in your heart and sighed out loud. But your quiet evening was interrupted when you jumped out of skin at the doors opening with a mighty slam. Your wide eyes met the door, the twins even looking over in shock. Two men, both the most different in stature, stood at the doorway. Your wide eyes noted their weapons, the larger, burly man carried a sword that you swore was almost the length of you and the other smaller, lanky man carried a dagger. 

You ushered the twins behind you as you stood to attention, swallowing heavily as your eyes met the slumped up body of a Kingsguard on the other side of the door. His body hung across the threshold, eyes wide and blood pooling beneath his body. And at the sight of this, you felt the hairs on your arms stand entirely on end. But the men approached slowly, the larger one with a smile wide on his face.

“There you are” the larger man said, twirling his large sword in his hand. The twins gripped at your dress, whimpering in fear, “We’ve been looking for you”

“Who are you, tell me at once” you ordered, trying to stabilise your voice to get the fear out of your tone. But it simply served to make the larger man laugh once more. The other’s eyes were on the children the entire time, like a vulture trying to sneak a peck at a corpse. 

“Who would have thought our dear Queen had such a sharp tongue”

Queen? You stood confused. And you wracked your brain for a moment. And then it hit. They thought you were Helaena with her twins. You shared the hair and the eyes and Helaena was indeed not here. But with fear deep set in your bones, you were rendered speechless and felt entirely powerless.

Whether it was Helaena or her children they sought to harm, you swore to her you would protect them. All these thoughts buzzing around your fearful mind, you sought to open the secret doorway you and Aemond would often use in the early days of your marriage, a door that could luckily be locked from the inside. 

Running with the twins to the corner of the room, you opened and shoved them inside, using your hurried words, “Dear ones, for the love of your mother, lock this door and do not open it, do you understand me?” you ask them, tears hot behind your eyes as you notice their frightened little faces, begging to cry, begging to be held.

“Please don’t leave us” Jahaera whined, reaching out. You looked behind you to see the two men approach, hastier this time.

“Lock this door and do not come out” 

You slam the door and feel a pang at your chest in relief as you hear them lock it from the inside almost instantly. Your chest heaved with fear and one single tear ran down your cheek as you turned, only to find the larger man had appeared so close to you. With a hand grasped at your throat, tightening more and more he slammed you against the stone wall. Your eyes widened at the force of it, hands coming to attempt to pry his large hand from your neck to no avail, mouth open to say something, but with no air to supply it.

He held you there, a grin on his face, “Sneaky whore”

Your fingers tried to wrap around his, wanting desperately for at least some air to pass into your lungs. The other man spoke,

“Can’t get this damned door open!” he shouted, kicking at it. You closed your eyes, hoping and praying the twins had escaped to another place in the secret doorways, so they didn’t have to hear all this. The man before you grunted in displeasure and without a second thought had released his hold on your throat to deliver a firm, back-handed slap to the face. 

A small yelp escaped you as you fall to the ground. The room span and your vision blurred, but holding your face you looked up to see his sheer perverse glare.

“If we cannot have his first son, we shall have his wife”

The words were supposed to be laced with fear, but at his sheer stupidity to mistake you for Helaena the only thing you could do was smirk and let out a weak laugh. Propping yourself up on an elbow, you spit out,

“Since you’ve fucked up our original plan, tell me this” he spat out, “Where is the Prince Aemond”

“You fools”

His expression instantly changed, and not one for a damaged ego you yelp out again as his hand clamps around your arm to drag you across the room. The familiar prick of fear hits your spine as you realise he’s thrown you to the bed, pinning one of your arms to the mattress below you. He only laughs loudly at your expression and your futile attempt to hit him with the other. But one of his large hands was big enough to capture both of your small ones and you writhed about, wanting to be free from underneath him.

The mention of his name had your face pale, and you begin to tear up with the realisation that he may well find you dead in the morning having been sullied and murdered by these two intruders. If such a thing were to happen, he would be heartbroken. And by the Gods, you would not like to see Aemond when he is driven by revenge and nothing else.  

“Where is the kinslayer, whore” he commands it this time by shouting in your face, you wince at his sudden volume before opening your eyes once more. The silence is palpable and you must know he isn’t a patient man. So you say nothing for a moment, until his hand is in the air, ready to hit you once more.

“Just kill me and be done with it” your words are heavy with hatred.

He merely chuckles and pushes you further up the bed, so your head is below the pillows. He pulls a dagger from his belt and holds it forcefully to your throat, and it is so sharp that you yelp as he leads the point from your chest to your neck as if cutting through butter, the blood spills from the empty cuts down your body and stains your dress.

“Oh we will kill you. But we’d like a bit of fun, first. Since you’re here all on your own, we can make you scream”

You gasped loudly as the man begins to rip your dress, tearing the skirt into a thousand tiny pieces. And you do go to cry out, but feel that familiar sharp pain against your throat and instead choose to stay quiet, attempting to instead use your legs to kick against him as much as you could. Even at this, he is too big to care of your tiny pleas and instead laughs loudly, so much so that his head rolls back.

“Fight all you like”

You screw your eyes shut. If this was actually happening, you did not want to see it.

He rips a sleeve off the dress, exposing your shoulder and he laughs sardonically, releasing your hands for a moment to pull up the skirts of your dress so they are over your hips. You whimper out, bracing yourself until your eyes snap open. That’s it, you thought. Aemond always kept his dagger under his pillow. And with the man above you so focussed on ripping apart your luckily many layers of dress, your hand wanders to the pillow. Silently praying he had not taken it with him.

As the man is about to rip apart your smallclothes, laughing to himself as he did so, your small hand clamps around the handle of the dagger Aemond had left behind and without a second thought, you plunge it to the hilt into his throat. For a moment, you wondered if you had done anything as he just stayed completely still. Pulling the dagger from him, blood spurts from the new wound and all over your dress, completely drenching you from the neck down in his blood.

If you weren’t so hellbent on getting him off you might have gagged at the thought of such a despicable man’s blood being all over you, but right now, you could not have cared less as you pushed his heavy, now lifeless form off you and onto the ground. Standing over him, his blood stained the floor and his eyes vacantly looked over to you, wide-eyed at the prospect of dying. There was a sick sense of pleasure to see such a horrible man die.

Clutching the dagger tightly in your hand still, you moan out in pain as the other, lanky man turned upon you, angered at the death of his friend. Before you could swipe the dagger, he pulled you into a headlock, his own dagger-wielding hand high and intent to push into you. Your hand went out to his arm, stopping his hand. And you knelt there in his tight headlock, hand shaking and pushing his own weapon away from your face. 

Eventually the lack of air began to affect your head and you felt light-headed, vision blurry and the strength put against his hand beginning to falter. Without really thinking, you took the dagger in your other hand and aimed it behind you, hearing a squelch as it was drawn into his stomach. Desperately, you twist it further into him, satisfied it has at least done something. 

Your suspicions are correct when his strength weakens around your neck and behind his hand and confident that he is beginning to falter, you pull the dagger from him and drive in again, and again, and again, until he is barely fighting back. 

His body falls away from you to the ground, but you barely look at him and slump back against the wall, looking ahead at the floor as if dissociated. Blood is dripping across every part of your body, down your neck, against your shoulders, down your legs and it has invaded every particle of your otherwise cream dress, the other parts of it are scattered about the end of the bed. Proof that he had tried to sully you.

And there you sat, hoping and praying that at least the twins were safe somewhere. Your breathing eventually evens out, but the hazy feeling doesn’t leave you and that feeling of searing danger is still there in your bones, even though the two men lay dead on the ground. Still and lifeless. 

You do not hear a member of the Kingsguard arrive and make their may over to you, their hurried speaking of concern all but muffled to you. It is only when they place a hand on your bare shoulder that you wail out, screaming for them to get their hands off you. The tears that were held back the entire time now spilling from your eyes, leaving clear trails against the blood on your neck and chest in fat lines. You felt completely powerless.

“Get away from me!” you screamed, not wanting the touch of anyone, you backed yourself up against the wall further, ordering for him to leave. For a moment, he watched, concerned and wide-eyed before obeying. 

As he left, the doors were left open and servants scurried about as well as Kingsguard, frantically searching for more intruders but finding none. But you simply sat there, staring ahead and letting the tears fall down your face silently. The truths of the last hour hitting you like a train. You could have died. The twins could have died. And Aemond…if he were here…

The thought of Aemond sent a new wave of tears down your face. Would he want you after this?...

The sun had long descended by now and the servants had attempted to approach you, even the female ones, but every single one was chased away by your outbursts, simply wanting to be left alone.

In the dead of night, perhaps even early the next morning, the Green family hastily returned. All three of Alicent’s children escaped the carriage as soon as it arrived. Aegon and Helaena afraid for the safety of their children and Aemond for the safety of his beloved wife. He could feel his heart beating furiously out of his chest and he had wanted to vomit the entire trip home once his mother received a raven on the trip. It was a letter addressed to her only, 

A son for a son.

Lock or no lock, the Queen will be a son short by morning.

Of course, the family had turned around straight away and hurriedly returned home, albeit several hours after the intrusion had actually taken place. The Keep looked as if it had been turned upside down and the worried voices of the three children and Alicent rang out in echoes, halfway between cries and shouting.

A Kingsguard collared Aemond in one hallway, leading him to the entrance of the room where you were still sitting, shaking. And once Aemond saw you at the other side of the room, his heart stilled in his chest with fear and despair. He could see the large, dark colours of blood that stuck to the ground as well as your body, though you were far from his grasp.

As if approaching a terrified animal, his steps were light and he swallowed heavily, crossing the room with such quietness. The bodies had not been taken away, for the fear of upsetting you within the room and Aemond observed them. His heart ached. They were larger men than you, much larger. And how you had been able to put up a fight with them at all was a surprise to everyone.

“Y/n?...” he said quietly, but you did not move. And if not for your laboured breathing and widened eyes, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you were conscious.

He wanted so desperately to reach out and hold you, but the Kingsguard told him you were in a delicate condition and allowed nobody to touch you.

He was so close now, he could see every line of tears that you had made against the dark, crimson blood. His hand reached out to your wrist, barely touching it and you pulled back and screwed your eyes shut.

“No! Please…get away!...” you screamed, immediately shaking with fear, dagger in the other hand raised to strike if needed. 

Aemond held his hands in the air, heart shattering at his wife’s words. 

“Okay…okay…” he cooed soothingly, “...I’m going to stay here, okay?”

No response but a whimper came from you. His eyes raked over you and he felt the desire to clench his fists. Your dress was completely ruined and he noted that your smallclothes had been ripped and discarded to the ground. At this, rage began to boil inside of him.

“Y/n…it’s me…” he started, his voice low and calm, “...Aemond”

Your lids flinched slightly and he had some hope that he was getting through to you. You whimpered again, hand tightening around his dagger.

“I will not come any closer…until you want me to, okay?” he said, “can you open your eyes for me, my love?...”

You took a scattered breath in at the pet name, as if drawing you back to the surface from drowning, eyes opened and looked ahead at him. But mostly in shock and relief. Your mouth was open as if to say something, but you simply sat there, shivering in fright.

“It’s me, my love…your husband…”

Aemond sees the recognition in your eyes and you want to laugh with glee, but all you manage is a smile that is laced with relief but also fear. 

“A-Aemond…” you inhale a breath to let out a cry, “I’m sorry…”

He is on his knees, slowly inching towards you. “Shh..it’s okay…you are safe, okay?” 

You only give him a short and silent nod.

“Now…I’m going to need you to do something for me” he starts, inching a little closer, “...I’m going to need you to drop the dagger, okay?”

Your breath hitches, the fear slowly beginning to ebb away at the sight of your husband.

Your weapon-wielded hand reaches out to your side, watching Aemond the entire time and he seems to let a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding loose when the dagger lands with a rattle against the stone floor. He slowly reached out to take it from near you, placing it in its rightful place at his side now. 

“Now, the maesters need to come in to see y-”

“They didn’t do it” 

Your interruption stops Aemond in his tracks and he kneels to listen to you as you tearfully relay, finally, what had happened.

“They didn’t…” you say, hesitant to say the word, “...they didn’t manage to…”

You can see the relief on Aemond’s face as he understands what you mean, his eye closes, not tightly. 

“I had to keep them safe…” you say, referring to the twins.

Aemond nods, a ghost of a smile on his face, “Yes…yes, you did brilliantly, my love. The twins are safe…”

Almost too quickly, you are launching yourself into Aemond’s awaiting arms, head firmly against his chest. There are no more tears left in you, so you simply revel in his warm arms around you, hugging you tightly. He felt the hot tears prick at his eye at your sudden change of mood for the better and he himself sank into this feeling, not caring of the blood that was getting all over him.

“Aemond…I s-swear…they didn’t…” you looked up at him, your sobs making your voice waver, fearing your reputation if anything else.

He cradled your face with one large hand, wiping the tears away, “Shh…my love, I believe you…”

He stroked your hair lovingly and you seemed to calm down.

“The maesters would like to take a look at you…you do not have to do anything more than necessary-”

“No” you shook your head, knowing that the maesters would want to inspect intimately. But, you thought, it was best to quell any rumours right away, “I will…” you answer, voice still wavered but more sure now.

Aemond had been with you the entire time, holding your hand tightly as the maesters performed their examinations. Some were trivial and easy, others more intimate in the face of the near tragedy that had occurred. And while one maester began to clean the wound on your throat, the other approached Aemond, as your husband, to deliver his diagnosis.

“There is no trauma to her intimately, you will be happy to know” the maester began. Aemond nodded and looked over at you as the other cleaned your wounds and the blood from you. Of course, he had known that already. He believed the truth that you had told him.

“She will have some scars, but it will be difficult to tell how the experience has affected the baby for some time”

Aemond nodded, but hesitated at the word ‘baby’, a spark sent through him. Almost at the same time, you whipped your head up and looked toward the other maester in confusion.

“Baby…?” you ask quietly. The maester turns to you, nodding.

“Of course, Princess. When was the last you bled?”

Your eyes met the floor in thought, “But I bled two moons ag-oh” the realisation dawned on you. And your eyes met Aemond’s, but he was just as shocked as you.

“For certain?” you ask.

“Oh yes” the maester responded, as if it were obvious.

Rather uncharacteristically, Aemond rushed to you and pulled you into his arms, one hand stroking your hair while the other stroked your back. You melted into his embrace, for the first time in hours, feeling as if some luck had been bestowed onto you. Had the gods determined you a worthy wife? Finally.

“Oh my little fighter…” Aemond murmured into you. He shuts his eye forcefully to blink away a tear, with the knowledge he has now that he could very well have lost more than just his wife this night.

For the first time in hours, you cried with happiness, tightening your arms around your husband as the tears fell down your face.

But the fear lingered and you had remembered how fragile life itself had been in the last day, so when Aemond pulls away and sees your face, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ears and leans down, “What is it, my love?”

You look up at him, the emotions fighting in your head, “Aemond…” your mouth is open trying to find the words, “I am happy…of course…but I am also afraid”

He cups your face lovingly, “I know my love…I know” 

As he brings you in for another embrace, he knows that no words right now can quell that fear you have after the traumatic experience you just went through. You felt vulnerable, like prey and Aemond promised himself he would do whatever it takes to make you feel safe. Even if it meant staying by your side for as long as you needed him. 

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #Aemond the Kinslayer #Aemond x Reader #aemond angst #aemond fluff #aemond #prince aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon fandom #hotd angst #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you

[shadowynn]

| in love and lore | six |

pairing: ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: violence, death, yandere behavior, prejudice against mc. (things are a bit darker towards the end of this chapter)

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

wordcount: 14.6k

| five | six | seven |

a/n: so, I knew this chapter was going to be long when i first wrote it, but it still ended up much longer than anticipated. oops. but this really is one of my favorites so far (though i have come to learn editing long chapters can be a pain) and hope you all enjoy this too! as always, all feedback is appreciated and loved. even if i don't reply, i read each and every comment and they always make me smile. :) the support for the series so far has been so sweet and i appreciate you all so, so much.

~

You had expected someone to wake you up the following morning, but found it was nearly midday when you rolled out of bed. The sun had long since reached its peak in the sky when you stepped outside, stretching out the kinks in your muscles. Just like Mingi had said, another Black General sat at the table near the entrance. He was scanning over a stack of papers, taking notes every so often in the margins, but looked up when he heard the tent rustling upon your exit.

You shuffled under his gaze, hovering near the entrance. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”

“Don’t worry about.” He waved your concern away, offering a smile in an attempt to ease your discomfort. “You’ve had a rough past few days and I’m sure the extra sleep was needed. If we had need of you, we would have woken you earlier.” Not only was he as attractive like the ones before, with streaks of red in his hair, but he was tall too. His figure towered over yours when he stood up to pull out the chair next to him and motioned for you to come over when he noticed you holding back. “But, please, come eat. We can head over to the infirmary when you’re ready.”

You were hesitant to take the seat, finding the act of someone pulling your seat out for you strange and foreign. Sure, Hyunwoo had done it for you a time or two, but only on special occasions such as your birthday, and even then it had been done in a half-teasing manner. But there was no hint of mockery in his stance, and he simply smiled at you once more.

He was gentle as you took the seat, pushing you forward and moving the full plate of food left on the table in front of you before returning to his seat. “I’m Yunho, by the way. It’s nice to meet you, angel.”

He stayed with you for the next few hours, leading you throughout the grounds just as Mingi had done the day before. He was less talkative than Mingi had been, and even more so whenever you tried to press him for answers, giving the same stupid excuses as all the others. You would just have to wait until you met with Hongjoong. When this meeting would actually take place, however, no one would say for sure. The only answer they gave was soon. You just had to be patient.

When the sun began to set, Yunho guided you back to the tent to eat and retire for the night, but it wasn’t just food that awaited you upon your return. Several daemons hung around the table when you approached behind Yunho, and you were quick to notice the black horns on each of them. Wooyoung and Seonghwa had made a return, as well as two others you had yet to meet, but were quickly introduced as San and Jongho.

Their presence was overwhelming. The aura of just one of them was intimidating as it was; the raw power each them held was nothing like anyone you had met before, and it all combined was nearly suffocating. But as oppressive as it felt, there was an inkling of contentment hidden beneath. The hollowness that had plagued you since Seonghwa had placed the mark on you had almost been filled, as though the part of you that had burned away had come back. For the first time in a while, you almost felt whole.

You grew accustomed to them quicker than you liked, no longer quite so tense every second you were forced to spend with them. You didn’t like them, and you hardly trusted them, but the nerves that had plagued you in the beginning began to dissipate with each day. You didn’t know what was to become of you, but the kindness they treated you with and the warmth that bloomed in your chest each time you saw one of them made you all the more confused and gave you all the more reason to keep your guard up.

Your time with them was vastly different than back in the city. You were under constant supervision by at least one of the Seven at all times, but they were much more lax with your work. No one ever woke you in the morning, allowing you to sleep as late as you wish and start work on your own time. And when you did work, no one dared to raise their voice or insult you. Your identity of being the Black Angel had become well known, and though discovering you were a half-daemon was a shock to them, it didn’t bother them as much as you had expected. Whether this was because they were actually grateful for what you had done, your constant guard, or both, it was hard to tell.

Hongjoong was oddly missing during the time you spent with them. While his generals were always more than happy to accompany you anywhere and everywhere - as long as it was inside their camp, that is - you had yet to even sneak a peek at their golden king. Despite the orders he gave towards you through them, he had remained out of sight for the time being. And though a part of you was itching to ask them when you would finally get to meet him and get the answers you desperately wanted, it was a different matter altogether to actually ask. Not when you weren’t even certain that he even was their king.

Yeosang was also gone more often than not, spending the majority of the time with Hongjoong in the city while you were left at camp. You had seen him once or twice, and the sight of his gleaming black horns had made your stomach twist. A painful reminder of the lies he had told you and the act he had committed in your name. He approached you once on your second morning, but was quick to pick up on your frustration in his attempt to strike up a conversation and kept his distance after that. The look he had given you as he went, so similar to that as a wounded puppy, had made your stomach twist once more. As though the fact he had hurt you had wounded him just as badly.

They had claimed you would stay with them until they had no further use of you. You had assumed this usefulness was in your healing abilities, but Mingi’s statements upon your arrival the first day had worried you. Leaving you with the fear your use to them was more than your ability, a thought that clung closer to you each day you remained here. Despite having attended to the remainder of their soldiers in the evening of your third day there, there was no inclination of sending you back from from Yunho when you arose the following morning.

And with no work at the moment, you were left with little else to do besides amuse yourself with your current guard. You had just finished lunch and was doodling on the back of one of the papers Yunho had been reading over when you had asked him for one. Though the two of you had settled into a relatively comfortable silence, you saw the way his eyes darted in your direction every so often to look at the random sketches you had done, especially the rough sketch you had done of him from your boredom in the top corner.

Your eyes glanced up when you felt the presence of another general, but it was the person who was with him that caught your eyes and had your breath hitching.

The pencil dropped from your hands and before Yunho could ask what was wrong, you were up from your seat and sprinting in their direction.

“Hyunwoo!” You called out your brother’s name and his head was quick to turn in your direction with just enough time to recognize you before you barreled straight into him. He caught you easily, arms wrapping around your body with the same force you had captured him with. “I was so worried about you. They said you were okay, but I still couldn’t help but wonder, you know? They didn’t lie, right? You’re not hurt?” The words came out in a single breath, rushing to voice the worry you had felt towards his and Soomin’s wellbeing in your absence. “And what about Minnie? Is she safe too?”

“We’re fine.” He pushed back the hands that had been running across his figure to check for wounds, brining your eyes back up to his face when you were satisfied he spoke the truth. “But what about you? Are you okay? Soomin and I were so worried when Suho informed us you had been taken.”

“I’m fine. I’ve just been sent here to heal their wounded for them.” You waved back his concern, knowing it was well placed with where you had been the past few days, but more worried about what had happened to him and your sister since you had last seen them. “What about you two? What happened to you?”

“We were ordered back to the house after the ceasefire was called. We’ve been there ever since, though I was called out for a task in the forge this morning before being brought here.”

His eyes flickered to Jongho, who you had yet to process was standing there next to you until that moment, his expression unreadable as he observed the exchange between the two of you.

You didn’t know how you felt about Jongho. While you had waved away Wooyoung’s and Seonghwa’s teasing comments about him the first night, you had quickly realized there had been some truth in them. He was quieter than the others. Almost bashful when it came to you, but a welcome relief to the way some of the others acted. You knew it very well could have just been an act to get you to drop your guard even more than you already had, but you still preferred his company more than the others, appreciating the silence that surrounded the two of you when you were alone.

“But you are okay, right, y/n? They haven’t done anything to you, have they?”

You shook your head, suddenly self-conscious under Jongho’s inquisitive gaze, wondering what thoughts might have been running through his mind at the moment. “No, I’ve been treated quite kindly since my arrival.”

“Don’t worry, your sister is safe here with us.” Jongho broke the silence, a hint of a smile breaking through as he added to your words.

“Woo, this is Jongho.” You pulled away from your brother, conscious of the way his and Jongho’s eyes kept glancing between each other. “Jongho, this is my brother Hyunwoo.” You knew there was a good chance the two had already become acquainted, but you felt the need to break the silence that had settled between you and it was the first thing you could come up with. “Is there a reason he’s here?”

Now that you were over your excitement of seeing your brother, the anxiety of what he was doing here began to settle inside you and whether or not you were the cause behind it. Jongho had been your guard the day before and had been curious about the dagger you had been using in the infirmary. He had asked to see it that night at dinner, testing out the design for himself. He had praised the workmanship of it, asking if it had also been your brother who had designed the arrowhead that had wounded Seonghwa when you had explained your brother had created it. You had been hesitant to answer his question, but you hadn’t sensed any hostility in his tone. Now, you wondered if you had made a mistake in telling him the truth and that your foolishness had gotten your brother in trouble.

“Hongjoong sent for him. He had a task for your brother earlier this morning and though you might enjoy having your brother accompany you back to your house to get ready for the ball this-“

“Wait, wait, wait,” you interrupted. Any relief you might have felt towards knowing Hyunwoo was was safe for the time being and you would finally get to go home immediately masked by the statement he had made towards your attendance of the masquerade. “I’m attending?”

You had first heard about the event at dinner when you had returned with Yunho that second night with them. It had been San who had first mentioned it, having given up his seat at the table for you to sit, and the first to inform Yunho of what he had missed in the peace talks that day. He had explained it was an event meant to try and lessen the tension built up from the war, but the knowing looks he had exchanged with the others, and the smirk Wooyoung had been unable to hide, had you doubting their words.

The only other mentions of it had been in passing; one general asking another if the proper preparations had been completed or not. While you held some curiosity towards the event, you never bothered questioning them on it. Your attendance was something you never considered, so you never had a reason to question them. The guest list had been reserved to a higher class, much higher than your own, and even if it hadn’t been, no one had extended an invitation your way. And you hadn’t cared. You had absolutely no desire to spend an entire evening surrounded by a crowd of people who would just serve to make your life as miserable as possible.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Yunho must have not trusted you when you had run off without a word and followed you over, his sudden response to your question making you jump. You hadn’t heard him approach. “It wouldn’t be a party without you, angel.”

“Oh, well, um, thank you for the offer, but I don’t really think me going is a good idea.”

Your head tilted, shuffling as a new form of panic bloomed inside you. They expected you to attend? It wasn’t because you hated social events, but rather just events filled with people who hated you. The thought of it sounded more like hell than a party in your mind, and you could only imagine what sort of hell would actually be raised when the humans realized you were there. Did they not realize that you would get kicked out faster than you could explain you had actually been invited. And that was only if you actually got in.

“Ah, but you see-“ Yunho’s reply was cut off short, and while you had found it strange the first few times it had happened to him and the others, you had quickly come to realize it was Hongjoong who was doing it. Apparently you weren’t the only one who he had taken control of before and was now acutely aware he was observing the scene between the four of you and Yunho had been about to say something he wasn’t supposed to. “We’re aware of how some humans might respond to your presence, but you don’t have to worry about them. We’ll make sure nothing happens to you while you’re there. You’re safe with us, remember?”

You just barely caught the tail end of his eyes fading back to black as you turned your head, another sign you had quickly come to discover meant it wasn't actually Yunho who you had just been speaking to. And like always, you had a hard time fighting the urge to glare up at him, hoping Hongjoong would see your frustration. He was more than perfectly content communicating with you through the others, but remained steadfast in staying away from you at the moment. If it wasn't for the fact he was the only one allowed to give you answers, you wouldn't have cared. And though meeting with him still terrified you, you were antsy for that time to come. The unsurety of you fate was starting to drive you crazy.

"Yes, you've all stated that several times now." Your arms crossed, unable to hide the frustration that came with the phrase they had been repeating over and over again the past few days. "But I still don't think it's a good idea. And even if it was, It's not like I have anything to wear." You really couldn't have cared less about what you did wear, but knew the few items in your wardrobe would pale in comparison to anything else the other attendees would be wearing, causing you to stick out even more than your normal presence would have already.

"Don't worry. We've already thought of that and you'll find clothes for you and your siblings were delivered to your house this morning."

"Why?" Once again the question that had plagued your life the past few weeks popped out, more than thoroughly confused as to why your attendance seemed so important to them.

"To thank you for everything you've done, angel."

"And we've been over this a million times. I didn't save Seonghwa and the others because I wanted some sort of payment. I didn't ask for you to repay me. I don't need you to repay me."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair at the lies they continued to tell you. After all, if they truly wanted to thank you for what you had done, they would let you sit this one out. But they weren't. And if Yunho's earlier statement hadn't been proof enough for there being some hidden agenda - what had he been going to say? - then their insistence of you attending was. What that agenda might have been, you hadn't a clue, but there had to be one. This wasn't them showing you gratitude for saving Seonghwa's life, you knew that, but until Hongjoong decided he would talk with you, you had no choice but to play their game. Your very life might depend on it.

"And I'm not saying this because I'm not thankful for what you've done for me. I am, truly. But you've already thanked me enough. You don't have to keep doing this. You've done more than enough to return the favor and then some. Just let it go, let me go, and we can all move along with out lives."

"I know this has all been confusing for you, y/n, but will you let us do this one last thing?" Yunho's gaze had softened, unfazed by your ranting as he raised a hand to the side of your face. "I promise things will start to make a lot more sense after tonight. Just hold on for us a bit longer, will you, angel?"

You wanted to disagree, but one look was all it took for you to know nothing you did or said would change either his or Jongho's mind on the matter. You could try all you wanted in convincing them to let you be, but nothing you said or did would change the end result. It would just be wasted time and breath.

"Sure, whatever." It's not like I have a choice.

You had to bite your tongue to keep the last statement from coming out. While you had some leniency when it came to them - you sure as hell didn't see anyone else talk to them in the same manner you just had - you didn't want to take the chance at possibly putting yourself in a worse position than you already were because you couldn't hold your tongue.

"What the hell is going on, n/n?" Hyunwoo asked when the two generals finally let you leave with your brother. "Angel? Really?"

"Welcome to my life for the past few weeks," you grumbled, arms crossing as you did your best to hide the blush his callout of one of the nicknames they had all given you had created. You hadn't put too much thought into it though. It was nothing more than a playful reference they made to your previous hidden identity. "I keep trying to figure out what's going on and what they're planning to do with me, but they won't answer any of my damn questions. It's all just 'Hongjoong will explain everything to you later,' but Hongjoong seems to have a keep interest in avoiding me at the moment."

You briefly wondered if you should be more careful with what you said about him, just in case he was still spying on you, but you brushed the concern off as soon as it came. Perhaps if you made him angry enough, he would finally come talk to you.

"He has no problem spying on me and telling the others, 'Oh, y/n is exhausted so let her sleep,' or 'y/n's not supposed to hear that yet, so talk about something else.' It's all been Hongjoong this and Hongjoong that, but oh, no. You just need to have some patience. He doesn't want to talk to you right now. And why's that, huh? Because it would be a crime for the daemon king to be seen with a fucking mutt?"

"Are you sure you should be talking about him in that manner?" Hyunwoo's voice had lowered, eyes sweeping the general area to check and see if you had been overheard.

"Oh, trust me. He would have heard me if he wanted to. Did I forget to mention that he's in my fucking head?" You groaned, half regretting what you had just said, but also half hoping he had actually heard it. All of it. "They won't go into any specifics with it, but I'm pretty sure he already knows exactly how frustrated I am with all of this. He has access to my brain whenever he wants, after all."

"He can read your thoughts?"

"According to them, it's a little more complicated than that, but who's to say they're just not telling me the truth to keep me from freaking out more than I am already." You shrugged, letting out another exhausted sigh. It felt nice to finally be able to get your emotions out. To finally release all your frustrations after keeping them in for so long. "To be honest, I'm starting to think this is just some sort of game they're playing. That this nice exterior they've shown me is just a front for something more sinister. Now that they've gotten use of my ability, they'll embarrass me in front of everyone tonight for being stupid enough to believe someone like me could actually be something more in life. Why else would they be doing all of this?"

"I don't know." Hyunwoo's words were still soft as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, doing his best to calm you down for the time being. "As crazy as it seems, I don't think their motive is anything sinister. I spent quite a bit of time with Jongho this morning, and I didn't get any ulterior motives from him. He just seemed genuinely curious about how my ability worked and even asked if he could see some of my previous work. And when he mentioned you, there was genuine warmth there. If you ask me, I think they really are grateful for what you've done for them, they just have a bad way of showing it."

"Maybe, but does it even matter?" You weren't sure how Hyunwoo's words made you feel. Unsure if them actually being grateful for you like they said was a better outcome than your own demise. "I don't know what they plan on doing with me, but the only good outcome that can come out of this is them finally letting me go. And based on what I've heard, I have a hard time believing that will happen." You sighed once more, wishing you had listened to your sister all those years ago and put your own wellbeing before people you didn't even know. "And now I've got you and Soomin wrapped into this as well. Minnie told me countless times to be careful and of how dangerous it was for me to be going out, but I just always thought the worst thing that would happen would be me dying. I never imagined something like this would happen. I just wanted to help people, but I only ended up managing to hurt the people I care about instead."

"It'll be okay, n/n. We'll get through this together." Hyunwoo's grip tightened, pulling you closer to him. "They offered you answers tonight, right? So we just have to make it through this silly party and then maybe you'll finally figure out what they plan on doing with you."

"I swear, Woo, if we somehow all make it out of this one alive, the next time you or Soomin warn me against doing something incredibly stupid, I'll listen. No ifs or buts."

Despite the situation, Hyunwoo laughed, the sound of it slowly easing the tension and fear that had been eating you up the past few days. "Well, if that's the case, you'll have to tell her that yourself. I'm sure Minnie would love to hear it."

"So she can hold it against me forever? Yeah, no thanks." You couldn't stop the giggle that came at his reply, playfully shoving him to the side, a sense of normalcy settling on you once more. For just a short moment, you were able to forget about the war and the daemons. For just a minute you could fool yourself into thinking it had all been one long dream.

But it all came crashing back down the moment you saw the dress the daemons had given you for the night's event.

If you didn’t think you were going to die beforehand, you sure as hell did now. Whether it would be at the hands of the humans, the daemons, or simply sheer embarrassment, you didn’t know. But you did know you wouldn’t be making it through the night unscathed. That was a given.

When Yunho had mentioned the clothes they had gotten you and your siblings for the ball that night, you had expected something similar to the dress presented to your sister. Something of high quality and beautiful, but simple enough to fit in with the rest of the crowd and not drive any unwarranted attention your way. You hadn’t expected something that would cause you to stand out more than if you had just been forced to wear one of the few dresses in your closet.

While Soomin’s was a deep maroon, yours was a bright, dazzling gold. The top was fitted, with a high neckline that crossed just below your collarbone in the front and let a small second of skin between your breasts bare alongside the entirety of your back. The skirt billowed out beneath your waist, and though loose and light with a slit that reached your upper thigh, still gave you enough cause for concern on what to do if you needed to run.

If the attention the style and color of the dress would bring didn’t make you uncomfortable already, the slit at your chest did. It wasn’t just because it showed more skin than you were used to showing - hell, you hardly even wore dresses, let alone something form fitting - but that it left the top half of the king’s sigil on your chest bared and exposed for anyone to see.

Soomin had attempted to alleviate some of your discomfort by reminding you it was a masquerade, but any relief the mask might have brought left as quickly as it came when you unwrapped the mask that had come with the dress. It was pure gold, melded and worked into an intricate design though extremely beautiful, did little to hide any of your discerning features. When Hyunwoo stopped behind you, you were quick to realize this was the task he had been requested for earlier that morning. You could see your brother’s gentle touch in the shape, and realized now why Jongho had been so curious about his ability.

But as beautiful as the piece was and as proud as it made you that even the daemons saw and appreciated your brother’s skill, you still regretted having to wear a mask that did nothing to hide your identity. If you weren’t certain of the daemon’s hidden agenda before, you were now. With a dress that screamed for attention all on its own and a mask that did little to hide your identity, they had to have something planned for you tonight. They wouldn’t have just dressed you up in something like this to simply thank you.

If it wasn’t for the fact Soomin and Hyunwoo would be at your side, you didn’t think you would have the courage to go. You had already tried to talk them out of making you go, begging for them to excuse your absence with being sick - the nerves bundled in your stomach definitely made you feel sick. But you knew it was pointless. Even if you did convince everyone to stay home, you knew it would be next to impossible. If they didn’t simply send someone to fetch you, Hongjoong could force you there on his own. And if it came to that, you weren’t sure how they might retaliate, afraid you would only risk your own life as well as your siblings.

Soomin did your hair, pulling and twisting it in a way that left the majority up and out of your face while leaving enough down to cover the tips of your ears. While this might have been enough for her to appear human in public, your luck of inheriting your father’s daemon eyes prevented you from easily blending in the way she could. And though she commented how pretty you looked, you couldn’t wish more than ever your eyes would suddenly appear human when she handed you the mirror. It didn’t matter how pretty you might have looked, all anyone had ever seen, or would ever see, were your slit pupils.

The trouble began before you even got inside the palace. Your cloak, once again mended and whole thanks to Soomin, was wrapped tightly against your body. Partially to keep out the brisk, autumn air and partially to keep the dress and mark hidden from view as long as possible. It did nothing to hide your identity, as an invitation with your names had come alongside the clothes given to you. The moment you walked up to the entrance and handed over the card, the guard eyed each of you with disdain.

It didn’t matter that he knew you were the people listed on the card and the guest list in his hands, the fact you were half-daemons had him convinced you were attempting to sneak inside and cause mayhem. For why would the council or the daemon king ever see fit to invite a bunch of mutts to an event that was meant to reign peace between them.

Though his actions struck a nerve with you, you were relieved all the same, hoping the commotion would be enough to send you all back to your house and avoid any further incidents. But just as you opened your mouth to convince the others to drop it and return home, a daemon guard approached your small group.

The human’s face blanched as the guard addressed you and your siblings in a cordial manner before quickly reprimanding him for offending the king’s personal guests. You didn’t know what part of the interaction made your stomach knot tighter. What might happen to the guard due to his mistake or the way the daemon spoke to you as he motioned you inside. The casualness of how he mentioned the king and his generals ‘eagerly awaited your appearance inside’ had you clutching the cloak all the more tightly around your body.

Unfortunately, you only had the safety of your cloak for a few moments longer. The moment you made it inside, a servant was asking to take it for you. And if you weren’t so terrified of revealing what laid beneath, you might have taken the time to note how strange it was to be treated like someone of a higher class for once in your life. You attempted to keep the cloak, shying away from their hands. The thought of taking it off and revealing the dress underneath made you terribly self-conscious, but when Soomin pointed out it might only attract more trouble, you hesitantly shrugged it off, shivering as the breeze from outside hit your skin.

You could already feel the eyes of the surrounding servants and guests milling around the antechamber as the golden dress was exposed. Your arms immediately wrapped around your chest and you hovered behind Hyunwoo is in shadow as the doors to the main hall were opened and you were ushered all the way inside.

You had been inside the castle of Maehwa before, often being asked to make personal calls to attend to any aches and pains of the council members and their families, but you were still left in awe at the scene before you. They had held balls and parties numerous times in the main hall of the castle, but they had never been anything but a fantasy for someone like you. Never before had you dared to so much as peek into one of these events, let alone actually be invited to one. And despite the events that had led up to this occasion, you couldn’t help but let a small smile sneak it’s way out as you took in the scene before you.

The main chandelier had been kept unlit, leaving the ones along the side as the only source of light besides the lanterns scattered amongst the room. It gave the scene a slightly eerie appearance from the way the shadows of the attendees danced along the way, but held a sense of enchantment all the same. Music filled the air from a small orchestra playing in a corner of the lower floor, while tables for food and drinks had been set up on the opposite end. And though the center of the main floor had been cleared for dancing, not many people occupied the space.

You strayed at the top of the staircase next to your siblings, taking in the sight of something that felt right out of a fantasy for you. And yet, here you were, dressed for the occasion in an outfit that was worth more than your own life. The gold glittered in the firelight, sending scattered beads of light dancing across the floors and walls it reflected off of. You might have been able to blend in well enough if you had been dressed in something more conservative. But the dramatic cut of the dress stuck out just as much as the color, influenced by the daemon’s style of clothing. There was no hiding in it, and already you could feel the gaze of the crowd around you, certain they were talking about you in hushed whispers amongst themselves.

You did your best to ignore them, fingers grasping for Hyunwoo’s forearm as you peeled past his shoulder to the scene below. A group was gathered at the base of the opposite staircase, set apart from the rest of the crowd that killed around. It didn’t take long to realize this was where the daemons had set up, recognizing the faces of the Seven behind their black masks. While you had always seen them handsome in their own way - something you would have never admitted out loud - it was even more evident tonight in the way they had cleaned up. Loose fitting shirts and leathers had been replaced with black formal attire, and the hair you always fought the urge to straighten out was slick and combed back.

An odd weight settled inside your chest as you observed them from across the room, tugging at you to go and free them. While the emptiness you had felt since the mark had been placed had nearly disappeared in your time with them the past few days, it had come back worse than ever when you had left with Hyunwoo. You had taken the tightness as nerves for the night’s events, but if that was the case, it should have worsened upon finally seeing them, not filled you with a bubbling sense of warmth and relief.

Whatever you thought of it though, disappeared when you took notice of the new face amongst the group. Even if it wasn’t for the way the lights glittered off the golden horns and crown that adorned his hair, you would have known who he was. Despite never seeing him before, you knew without a doubt this was Hongjoong. This was the daemon king.

He was breathtaking. Not that you had imagined him to be anything else. Not with the way each of his generals looked, but the sight of him still made your heart skip alongside a sharp intake of breath. Even with the distance and the golden mask - it’s twisted, metal shape that oddly seemed to mimic your own making you distinctly aware that this had been the other mask Hyunwoo had created - that hid his face, you knew he was just as attractive as the others. The way he was laughing at something Seonghwa had whispered to him making your stomach flip. Whether this was in awe, fear, or a mixture of both, you weren’t sure.

As though he knew you were looking at him - which very well could have been the case for all you knew - his head tilted up to the top of the staircase where you stood, eyes immediately locking onto your figure hiding behind your brother.

Hello, angel.

There was a hint of playfulness in his tone and you swore you could see a smirk cross his lips as the words echoed inside your head. If it weren’t for the fact he was actually there across the room, you might have felt some frustration over the fact this was the moment he finally decided to break his silence with you. Instead, it merely made your nerves spike and your heart skip another beat, each causing you to swiftly hide your face behind Hyunwoo’s back as a wave of heat flooded your body.

“I think I might go out to the balcony and get some air.”

Your words came out breathless, face hot and chest heavy as the situation you were in came rushing back. The awe of the scene that had killed you began to fade as those golden eyes seemed to pierce into your very being in that split second you had caught onto them. The words which had followed only confirmed it had been you he had looked at.

Now that you were finally seeing him, you wondered why you had ever dared to utter your frustrations towards him earlier. You might have wanted to meet him over the past few days, eager for just a hint of what was truly going on, but one look was all it took to make you weak. One look and you were ready to turn and run. The thought of having to get any closer than you already were nearly shook you to your core.

“But, y/n, you’ll freeze out there,” Hyunwoo replied, both he and Soomin oblivious to what had just happened. “Why don’t I just fetch us some drinks and we can find some dark corner to hide in for the rest of the night.”

“That sounds great, Woo. We’ll be over there,” Soomin voiced her agreement before you could voice any complaint you might have had, and dragged you over to an empty spot against the railing obscured by shadows.

“I don’t think I can do this, Min.” You leaned against the nearby pillar, trying your best to calm your anxiety as you purposefully positioned yourself so you weren’t facing him or the others anymore. “Everyone’s looking and I just know they’re talking. I can feel their judgement on the back of my neck.

“I know, but it’s just a few hours.” Soomin’s hand grabbed yours, squeezing it softly. “They did promise you answers if you came tonight, didn’t they?”

“That’s what Yunho said, but how do I know he wasn’t just lying to get me here tonight? What if it’s all just some scheme to pull me in and slit my throat?”

You gulped, unable to stop every worst case scenario from flooding your mind. Now that you were here, none of the options for how you saw this night going seemed very favorable. And even if you did succeed in getting the answers you yearned for, who’s to say they would even be anything you wanted to hear? And then, you would have to get close to Hongjoong to get them, a feat you didn’t know was possible or not.

“Did you see him, Min? He was so…” you paused, struggling to find the right word to describe how exactly he felt, “intense.”

“He’s something, that’s for sure.” Soomin nodded, observing him from across the room. “I can feel all of their auras from across the room. It’s…” she shivered, turning her gaze away, “uncomfortable.”

“Like you’re caught in a trap with no way out.” You struggled to suppress your own shiver, fully aware of what she was talking about. You may have grown used to their presence after the past few days, but the intensity had grown with the king in attendance.

Soomin nodded. “Though, it seems to do little to suppress Hayoon and the twins from fawning over him and the others.” Her lip twitched as she propped her elbows against the railing, a hint of a smile appearing as she watched them. “I wonder if they’re doing it on their own accord or if their parents put them up to it.”

Her statement caught you off guard and you turned back around to peek past the pillar to look for yourself. Sure enough, Hayoon and the twins, Sunhee and Yunhee, had crept as close to the daemons as possible. None of them so much as trying to hide their intentions as they did their best to catch the attention of one of the daemons beside them and wriggle their way inside.

You had very few interactions with the three girls over the years, but the few you had, had never been pleasant, making the scene with the woman at the infirmary a week ago nearly pale in comparison. The fact each girl had seemed to have suddenly put aside their dislike towards anything daemon because of a few pretty faces had you more frustrated than you had been when Wooyoung had first mentioned their attempt.

“I heard the council is trying to convince the daemons into a marriage union,” you replied, fighting the frustration that rose back up at the scene. “Funny how they don’t seem to mind daemon’s so much when they’re not the ones with the power. Do you think they realize what sort of children they’ll bear or do they magically think they’ll come out human?”

“And what are we talking about over here?” Hyunwoo had returned with the drinks, handing a glass to the both of you as his eyes attempted to follow your line of sight.

“Hayoon and the twins,” Soomin replied, pointing over towards them. “Apparently the humans are trying to secure a marriage alliance with the daemons, so there they are. Making an utter fool of themselves. I only wish I could hear what they’re actually saying.”

“Probably something about how hard it is to be the daughter of someone so high and respectable,” you huff, lips tilting upwards a smidge at the thought. They could try all they wanted to get the daemons’ attention, but you had heard enough over the past few days to know the marriage alliance was never happening.

“Or how difficult it is to find a respectable man in these times and day. All these men only seem to want to marry them for their money and stays. No one truly cares about who they are or how they feel. I mean, really? Who would ever do such a thing?”

You couldn’t hold back the giggle that popped out as Soomin followed your lead, quickly masking it with a hand to your mouth. The fact each girl was failing miserably at catching their attention only added to your amusement. And while the past few days had been strange and unnerving, you couldn’t help but wonder what sort of reaction you could pull out of them if they had known you had spent the past four days accompanied by them and each of them knew you by name.

“Oh, did they finally get a catch?” Hyunwoo asked, leaning over the railing to get a better look as one of the Seven, who you thought might have been San, whispered something into the king’s ear before breaking free from their group.

This immediately caught the attention of the three girls nearby, but any joy they might have felt fell when he passed them by without so much as a glance in their direction. You had little time to relish the disappointment that crossed their faces as San climbed the stairs behind them and began making his way in what appeared to be your direction.

You had no time to hide other than to attempt to obscure yourself in Hyunwoo’s shadows once more, turning your back towards him and hoping he would simply pass you by as he had done with them. Your attempts were in vain, however, as mere seconds later he drew close to your group and called you out by that ridiculous nickname they had given you.

You couldn’t stop the curse that slipped out from under your breath, nearly spitting out the sip of wine you had just taken and doing your best to compose yourself before he got too close.

“What are you doing up here hiding in a corner, pretty?” He peered around Hyunwoo’s shoulder, his smile playful as he caught your eyes. They didn’t stay long, straying for only a second or two before trailing downwards to fully take in your figure.

“Exactly what it looks like. I’m trying to stay inconspicuous.” You fidgeted under his gaze, arms crossing against your chest as you noticed the sets of eyes that had followed San’s movements to this point. Even Hayoon and the others had given up their antics for the time being to see what he was up to and who he might have been conversing with. “Which you’re not helping with by the way.”

“These must be your siblings.” San ignored your attempt at sending him away, turning to your siblings standing beside you. “Soomin and Hyunwoo, was it? It’s lovely to meet you both.”

“Likewise,” Soomin murmured, eyes glancing towards you as he smiled at her.

“Do you need something?” Your words pulled his attention back towards you, nearly shivering at the way his gaze shifted. You didn’t like that he was here meeting them. It felt strange, as though two different sides of your life was converging. As though he was wriggling his way into your private life.

“I happen to love dancing, angel, and am in search of the perfect partner.”

The inflection in his tone made you nervous and you swiftly shook your head, eyes widening. “No.”

“C’mon, pretty. You can’t just hide up here the whole time. Who will dance with me if you do?” He pouted, but his eyes were still teasing. “Please?”

“San, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You do realize that us just being here is akin to a taboo, don’t you? I can’t imagine what sort of hell you’ll raise if someone like you dances with me.” Your words were hushed, trying not to draw any more attention your way than there already was. The only reason you had yet to have anyone approach you was most likely due to the fact you had yet to be properly identified. Because the last person anyone would expect to be the girl dressed in gold was you. “If you want to make friends with the humans, you have to leave me alone. Go dance with Hayoon. I’m sure she would be dying to based on the way she’s been flaunting herself over there.”

“But I don’t want to dance with her, I want to dance with you.” He pouted, tilting his head, but his eyes were still playful. “And if that’s the best excuse you have, then, well, I’d say this place could use a little hell.” He grabbed the drink from your hand and took a sip of his own before placing it on a nearby table and grabbing hold of your wrist. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be borrowing your lovely sister here for a few moments.” He bowed his head in their direction and dragged you away before either of them could object.

“San!” you whined, trying to pull him back as the panic began to build inside the pit of your stomach once more. “I don’t even know how to dance. I’ll only embarrass you.”

“Don’t worry, angel, I’m a great teacher.” He looked back, a smug smile set on his face and completely unfazed by your second attempt to get him to stop. “Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine. I promise.”

You were left with no choice but to follow after him, bunching up your skirt in your free hand as he led you down the stairs towards the dance floor. If you didn’t have the entire room’s attention on you beforehand, you sure as hell did now. Everyone was bound to be wondering just who had drawn one of the Seven out onto the dance floor.

But as much as the humans’ curiosity unnerved you, it was nothing compared to the gaze of the other daemons. You made the mistake of glancing in their direction just once as San guided you to the center of the floor and immediately regretted it. Now that you were closer to them than before, you were acutely aware of the way their eyes had latched onto your figure next to San. Another wave of heat ran through your body as your eyes ran past each of them and you wondered just how exactly you were going to get out of this night alive, let alone in one piece.

“San, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Your hands were shaking as he guided the left onto his shoulder. It was bad enough this was your first time dancing, let alone with someone else, but the eyes that watched you made it all the worse. You didn’t care what San had said, this was only going to lead to embarrassment on your part.

“Nonsense, just relax, will you, sweetheart?” His other hand wrapped around your waist, and you couldn’t suppress the gasp he elicited from you when he used his grip on you to pull you in close. “I’ll be doing all the hard work here. Just take a deep breath, relax, and let me lead you, angel.”

That was much easier said than done, but his grip on you was secure. Though you stumbled a few times in the beginning, he always pulled you into the next movement without skipping a beat. And while the ease of his movements did lessen your panic, the attention the action pulled was enough to keep you on edge. You didn’t know where to look. San’s face was completely out of the question with the smug smirk that was plastered there, but the onlookers, especially the daemons, weren’t any better. Eventually, you settled on his jawline, trying hard to not accidentally step on his toes, a feat you had somehow managed to avoid for the time being.

“See, it’s not so bad is it?” His voice was a breath against your ear.

“Everyone’s staring,” you mumbled back, risking a glance behind him and regretting it immediately. If you weren’t so terrified of San or the reaction it would pull from him, you would have just biting your head into the crook of his neck to avoid seeing all of them.

“That’s because of you, angel. Everyone’s wondering just who the pretty girl in the golden dress is.” He chuckled at the way his statement made your cheeks tint, but he didn’t stop there, continuing before you had the chance to rebuke him. “Which you look absolutely ravishing in, by the way. I knew you would when I saw the dress, but damn.” He sighed, fingers tightening against your waist and pulling you flush against him.

If it wasn’t for the music filling the hall, you were afraid he would have heard how fast your heart was now beating. And given the position you were in, you did bury your face into his neck this time, not wanting him to see the effect his words had on you. At the chuckle that reverberated through his chest, however, you knew your actions had hidden absolutely nothing.

“You’re doing great, angel. I think it’s time for you to try a spin.”

“No.” You pulled your head back out, shaking it quickly as a new wave of desperation filled you. You were barely hanging on as it was. Complicating things more than they already were was only a guarantee you would mess up. “Don’t do it, San, I swear-“ But your words were cut off when he ignored your pleas once more and did it anyways.

His grip on your hand was secure, keeping you from stumbling as he spun you around, the motion of your movement causing the fabric of your skirt to swirl around you, casting the nearby area in a sparkle of lights.

“Please, don’t do that again.” You tightened your hold on him when he pulled you back in, breathless by the act. It wasn’t quite as terrifying as you had expected, especially because you had managed it successfully, but you felt much more secure with both of his hands on you.

He laughed, pulling you back into him, a move you could only hope meant he would oblige to your request this time around.

It felt like an eternity, but the song eventually fell to a close and San seemed content with one dance for the time being. You were quick to excuse yourself before he could think to take you over to the others, claiming you needed the bathroom when in actuality you headed outside to one of the upper balconies in front a desperate need for some air.

Grabbing another glass of wine on the way, you were relieved to find an empty spot near the opposite end of the room overlooking the courtyard down below. With winter fast approaching, the majority of the attendees remained inside, but the cool air felt refreshing against the heat the dance had built up inside you, and you leaned against the nearby ledge with a sigh.

What were you doing here? You didn’t belong here.

You had been promised answers tonight, but the dance with San had only served to create even more, unsure of what insanity had driven him to do it. He had said the party could use a little hell tonight, but what had that meant? Was it because their intentions were true, and they truly didn’t care if your were a half-daemon like Wooyoung had insisted upon that first night, or were they simply using you as a pawn? Did they simply want to thank you with a night you had only ever dreamed of before, or was their invitation merely a way to rile up the humans?

And then there was the way San had complimented you. It was different than before. The others, including Hongjoong, had all complimented you before, but those were nothing more than teasing nicknames and playful remarks. Angel was only a reference to your time as the Black Angel, and pretty, was well… just something they said to amuse themselves with the reaction it could pull from you. Tonight, however, San’s words had been different. It had been in the shift of his tone. And in the way his fingers had tightened their grip, as though he was afraid you would slip right through.

You shook the thoughts away, fighting the blush that crept back on your face as your mind ran through the scene once more, hating how easily you had melted at the words. He wasn’t being serious. He couldn’t have been serious. He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he had said it, clouded by the image before him to remember exactly who you were. To remember exactly what you were.

The answers to everything were back in the ballroom, but how were you going to get them? We’re you just supposed to wait until one of them approached you or were you expected to come to them, yourself? Without knowing exactly where you stood with any of them, it was impossible to tell. They had seemed lenient enough with you back in the camp, but it was a different world here. A world where you were reminded just who they were and not the man who stood guard over you. They were the eight most important daemons and you were, well, you. Would they simply react the way they always did if you were to approach or would they punish you for daring to approach without permission?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard rustling behind you. Turning around, you expected to find one or both of your siblings, or perhaps even San when he realized you had lied to him. What you hadn’t expected to see was Hayoon and the twins in tow.

“You’re fucking kidding me. It was you?” Hayoon’s eyes hardened as she recognized you, lips puckering as she took in your appearance with a newfound disgust. “He picked the fucking mutt over me? What the hell are you even doing here?”

“I-”

“So that’s what she’s been doing since she got sent over to them,” one of the twins - you had never took the time to get to know them well enough to tell them apart - was quick to add as they approached you. “Fucking them in order to get some kind of favor, huh? Tell me, which one did you do it with to get this dress?”

“I can’t believe this. What the hell got in your head to think it would be okay for you to show up tonight, let alone in that thing.” Hayoon’s eyes raked over the dress, jealousy evident in her gaze. “My father said marriage was in the talks and that I should be sure to get his attention to secure it, but I can’t get him, let alone any of his stupid generals to even look in my direction thanks to you.”

“Well, well, well, would you look at this.” The other twin broke Hayoon’s ranting, finger pointing towards the golden mark gleaming in the moonlight. “She was the traitor after all. She was the one who killed that lady. She had to be. Daddy said they requested her by name, after all, so she must have been in league with them for some time now.”

“What did you even hope to gain from it, you stupid whore?” Her sister asked, head cocking. “I mean, you do know what they do to mutts like you, right?” She tan a nail against her neck, mimicking the act of them slitting it. “Did you think helping them would get you into their good graces? Did you think fucking them would keep them from killing you?”

“You do realize you’re nothing more than a pawn to them?” Hayoon was close enough for you to smell the alcohol on her breath, but her eyes were sharp. “That the only reason they’ve been entertaining you this whole time is to you use you against us? My father said marriage was in the works, but I’m not an idiot. I know the daemons would never dare to mix their blood with the likes of us. They’re too prideful for that. They’re just using you as a toy to mock us. Dangling you in front of us as a way to degrade us.” Her finger trailed against the fabric wrapped around your upper arm. “So, just what are we to do with this pretty, little plaything of theirs, girls?”

She grabbed hold of the fabric, tugging hard. The sound of it ripping left you gasping, making you wonder what was going to happen to you when they realized the dress had been ruined. You didn’t have the means or money to fix it.

“Hayoon, are you sure we should be doing this?” The twin on the left asked, more hesitant now that Hayoon seemed willing to act on her frustrations. Her eyes glanced back at the entrance to the balcony, as though worried of getting caught.

“Relax, Sunnie, they’re going to kill her once they’re done with her. We’ll just be doing them a favor when we beat them to it. After all, she is a traitor, so we’re only doing the right thing by turning her in once we have our fun with her.” She took the wine glass from your hand and tilted the rest of the contents onto the front of it, staining it beyond repair. “Oops, my hand slipped.”

You knew you should do something to defend yourself, either by words or actions, but you found yourself shutting down at the haughty expression Hayoon wore. After all, what if she was right? What if this really was nothing but a game for the daemons? And you were just a pawn to get back at the humans? That they would kill you once they were done with you.

Was this why they had brought you here tonight despite your insistence it was a bad idea? Did they dress you up and pull you out into the dance floor to attract trouble your way? To ensure something like this would happen to you? To ensure the humans would punish you, so they could use your death as an excuse to exterminate them all? And that they had only marked you as a means to see the war through to the end?

“What’s going on here, angel?”

Between the voice that spoke directly in your left ear to the arm that was suddenly snaking it’s way across your waist, you couldn’t keep from jumping. You weren’t they only one surprised by their sudden presence, and Hayoon stumbled backwards, eyes wide and blinking as she took in the figure who had just materialized behind you.

You didn’t have to look behind you to know who it was. Even if you hadn’t recognized the voice, you knew it was Seonghwa. While you had been confused by how quickly he had moved the night you had saved him, you had since come to learn his daemon ability had something to do with teleportation.

“Are they bothering you, pretty?”

You had a hard time deciphering the emotions running through you. You were relieved at his presence, grateful that he had come to your aid, but the venom that laced his voice kept you on edge. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was enraged. You could feel how tense his muscles were behind you, and you knew Hongjoong must have been observing you in your absence and had sent Seonghwa before things got out of hand. Whether this was because they were truly upset by the way the girls had spoken to you or because they were simply telling the truth behind the daemon’s behavior, you weren’t sure. Neither option ended with a positive outcome and the image of Hak Seongmin dead in the streets ran through your mind once more.

“No, I’m fine.” You tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp, growing more panicked as the situation began to escalate. If you didn’t do something quick, someone was going to end up in major trouble. “We were just talking.”

“Oh, are these friends of yours?” Despite your attempts at escaping, his grip on you was tight, fingers digging into your hip.

“Uh-huh, we’ve been friends forever.” Hayoon’s expression shifted at his response, eyes glittering dangerously as she took full advantage of his ‘mistake’. The innocent smile batted his way all but proving she was not aware of the danger in his stance. “I came out to compliment this beautiful dress of hers; it’s just a shame she spilled her wine. She’s always been a little clumsy.”

“Is that so?” Seonghwa twirled you around to face him, free hand roaming to the front of your dress that was no soaked. You couldn’t suppress the shiver his touch against your bare skin brought, the dark glint in his eyes lightening momentarily as his finger traced against the blade of the sword etched there. “It must have just slipped.” Oh, he knew. He definitely knew. “Why don’t we get you inside to warm back up, huh, pretty? The others have been eager to see you.”

“I… Mu dress, though. I should probably-“

“Invite your friends? What a wonderful idea, angel.” His hand raised to your face, cupping your cheek with a look that shook you to your core. “I’m sure the others would love to meet them.”

“Really?” Hayoon had a hard time holding back her surprise, but she recovered quickly, shooting a smug smirk in your direction when she thought Seonghwa wasn’t looking. The twins, however, seemed a lot less interested in Seonghwa’s offer, eyeing the two of you carefully as they whispered to each other behind Hayoon. “It would be an honor, sir.”

The last thing you wanted was to go with them. You knew something was up with Seonghwa. His grip was tight enough around your waist that you were afraid it would bruise, and the smile he sent your way was strained, not even remotely reaching his eyes. He was terrifying enough as it was when you had been with him before, but it was nothing compared to the scene now, and you couldn’t suppress a shiver from coursing through you when he dragged you along after him.

Hayoon, oblivious to the tension between you and Seonghwa, attempted to strike up a conversation with him as you went. She batted her eyes and hit him with the sweetest smiles she could manage, but Seonghwa didn’t even look in her direction. And once she realized her efforts were in vain, her smiles vanished altogether, exchanged for scowls directed towards the object of his fascination, you.

It would have unnerved you if your mind hadn’t already been elsewhere. Any fear you had felt towards Hayoon and her threats, and even Seonghwa, dissipated when the person he was taking you to finally hit you. Unless he decided to be mysteriously missing once more, you were finally going to meet Hongjoong. You were finally going to meet the daemon king.

“Seonghwa, I can’t do this.” Upon hearing you speak, he leaned his head towards you to better hear you, fingers drawing you all the closer towards him. A motion Hayoon was quick to pick on beside you. “My dress, it’s ruined. I can’t go in front of him or the others like this. Just let me go home, please? I want to go home.”

“It’ll be okay, angel. It’s our fault this happened. We told you we would keep you safe, that nothing would happen to you tonight, but we failed.” As you made it to the steps, his grip tightened once more to keep you steady. “The last thing any of us cares about right now is some stupid dress.”

“But-“

“Let’s just go see the others for a bit and then we can all go home, okay?” Seonghwa’s expression did soften this time when he looked down at you. “I promise.”

You wanted to tell him that defeated the whole point of your argument. As much as you did take relief in hearing you wouldn’t have to stay here for much longer, it did nothing to relieve the fears you had confessed earlier. It did nothing to get you away from having to see him. But any argument you might have been about to voice fell away as you took sight of the group you were approaching.

Despite the fear clawing it’s way through you, your eyes were quick to lock onto Hongjoong. He sat in the middle of the group, leg propped up as he lounged and looking every bit the king he was. His hair was multicolored, black on one side and white on the other, strange, but oddly fitting of his other features.

Mingi was bent over on his right, listening to something he was saying, but popped up as Seonghwa approached with you in tow. His dark eyes ran over your figure once before stepping away, allowing Hongjoong’s full attention to be on you as he disappeared to do whatever it was he had just been tasked with.

“Your majesty, I present to you Miss l/n y/n, the Black Angel.” Seonghwa’s grip released you as he bowed before stepping away to join the others and leaving you alone before him.

Unsure of what to do or how to act, you decided the best course of action was to follow Seonghwa’s lead and lifted your skirt to fall into a deep curtsy. You didn’t trust your voice enough to speak, so you remained silent. What would you have even said if you did find the courage? The proper etiquette for a situation such as this one was unknown and foreign to you. After all, never in your life did you think a moment like this one would ever come to you. Never in your life did you think you would be face to face with the daemon king.

He was silent at first, face unreadable as he took in your shaking figure. You didn’t dare look him in his eyes and stared at the floor instead, hoping he wouldn’t be upset by the fact the dress he had given you was now beyond repair.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, angel.” He rose from his seat to approach you, and after only ever hearing his voice inside your head before, it felt strange to hear him speak to you out loud. “As well as to finally thank you for everything you’ve done for us.” It took everything in you to not flinch when he reached for your hand, but it was impossible to control the shiver that overtook you when his lips brushed against your knuckles. “You’ve done a great service to your king and your kindness will not be left unrewarded for much longer.”

“Please, you’ve already done so much. Any service I might have done to aid you had been paid in full already. No further reward is needed.” If he really wished to reward you like he said, he could do so by answering the questions that had been haunting you for the past weeks, but you didn’t dare voice this in front of him.

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t change the fact I feel my gratitude has remained unmatched by your kindness and grace.”

His head tilted and you were acutely aware of the way your hand was still grasped firmly in his. As much as you wanted to pull it away and disappear from his intense gaze, you found yourself leaning into it all the same. His mere presence was awe-inspiring. You could feel the power rolling off of him, the intensity of it far surpassing any of his generals, and yet, as terrifying as it was, it was also… inviting. You felt bare and exposed beneath him, and yet there was still a warmth to it hidden beneath the surface, as though inviting you to let his aura fill your entire being and make you whole once more.

The trance was broken when someone cleared their throat behind you, grounding you back to reality. You were swiftly reminded of the three other girls standing behind you awaiting the introductions Seonghwa had promised them. Hongjoong also took note of it, golden eyes glancing behind your shoulder and smile faltering as he took them in.

“These are your friends, are they not?” He spit the word out, as though the mere thought of them being anything resembling it was sickening. “Go see Jongho for me, will you, angel? I’d very much like to talk to them.”

“C’mere, angel.” Jongho called out to you, extending a hand towards you. Hongjoong used the grip he still had on you to extend it in his direction without allowing you to decide for yourself if it was something you wanted. Jongho’s hand was gentle, but firm as he brought you over towards him. His eyes were darker than normal and body tense as he pulled you close to him, masking his usual bashful behavior around you.

“Your highness, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Hayoon approached first, the only one who still seemed interested in this meeting, and drew herself into a deep curtsy. “I am Ahn Hayoon. My father is the lead councilman of Maehwa.”

“My interest doesn’t lie in introductions tonight as I’m already well aware of who you are.” There was a shift in his tone, dark and commanding. Even Hayoon seemed to be taken back, not quite as smug as you expected her to be when he stated he already knew who she was. “I’m far more interested as to what happened out on the balcony earlier.”

“I apologize, but I don’t quite understand what you mean.” Her face fell, eyes flickering towards you, almost as if she was asking for your help. Asking you to back her claims up. “If you’re referring to the dress, her hand slipped.”

“Ah, yes. And please remind me, was this before or after you threatened her life?”

“What? No, I-“

“‘They’re going to kill her once they’re done with her. We’ll just be doing them a favor when we beat them to it.’ Isn’t that what you had said? That you’ll turn her over to the authorities once you’ve had your fun with her?” A smile had crossed his features, but it wasn’t the same smile he had shown you moments earlier. There was nothing kind about this one. "Tell me, just what sort of fun were you referring to?"

“What does it even matter? She’s just a mutt. You already plan on killing her once you’re done with her anyways.” Hayoon’s face was pale, but she didn’t back down, frustrated by the fact you had seemingly still been picked over her and fueled by the alcohol she had consumed. “Whatever it is that she’s done for you, she just did it to save her own skin. She’s-“

But whatever other insults she was going to throw your way was replaced by a low gurgling and her hands flew up to her neck. In a movement faster than you could properly comprehend, Hongjoong had slit her throat; the only sign he had done it was the blood now dripping off his extended claws.

“Oops, my hand slipped.” He laughed, running his tongue over one of the nails to taste the blood that now stained them. “How disappointing,” his face fell, “it’s terribly bitter.”

Your entire body froze, heart nearly stopping as you watched her body slink to the floor.

He had killed her. Just like that. No questions asked. And all for what? Because she had threatened your life? Because she had offended you?

“You fucking monster!” A few scattered screams rose up, alerting the rest of the crowd of the murder that had just taken place, but it was Hayoon's father who drew your attention. "That was my daughter!" The high councilman of Maehwa made his way across the room, collapsing to his knees next to her body with a strangled cry. He was too late though. Hayoon was nearly beyond saving now. "You!" His finger pointed straight to you, eyes glistening with tears and yet glaring at you like this was all your fault.

Was it? Was this your fault?

“Get over here and save her. That’s an order.”

You knew you needed to move. You knew you needed to listen to him and pull yourself back together and try something to save her. She was gone, you knew that, but you couldn't just stand there and do nothing either. But no matter how much you screamed at your legs to move, you were frozen in your spot, paralyzed by fear. Your eyes were glued to the blood dripping off Hongjoong's hand, wondering why you had ever let your guard down around him. Why had you ever let your guard down around any of them? They were killers. You knew that. You had seen it.

Oh, god. Was Hayoon right? Were you next?

"Oh, that's an order?" Hongjoong bent down to match the man's eye level, head tilting to the side as though them ordering you to do anything for them was ridiculous. He grabbed the councilman's chin with his hand, bloody claws still extended and digging into his skin. "And what will you do after she saves your daughter's life, hm? What gratitude will you show her? A noose, perhaps? For taking the precious attention you and your daughter so desperately craved? You pigs make me fucking sick."

While the majority of the crowd watched the scene unfold in horor, glued to their spots in a similar fashion as yourself, a few attendees had made an attempt to escape through one of the two doorways leading out. But despite them remaining open, something was blocking them from leaving. Something invisible. Something that left their pounding fists bouncing back off uselessly.

"This woman has saved thousands of your soldiers and citizens and what have you done to show your appreciation, huh? What have you done to thank her?" Hongjoong dropped the councilman's head in disgust, standing to address the crowd. "She risked her life countless times to ensure the soldiers you left for dead had a second chance at life. Stayed up countless nights to brew the potions you took to save your own and not a single ounce of gratitude was ever shown her way. You punished her for the smallest of crimes. Claimed she was poisoning you. called her every derogatory name you could think of, treated her like she was less than you. You would let her die without a second thought, and yet, despite it all, she still worked tirelessly to help you. But that all changes tonight. Tonight, you'll pay for your crimes."

"C'mon, angel. Let's get you out of here." Jongho began to pull you away, guiding you to the stairs behind you.

"Why? What's going to happen?" You struggled up the stairs after him, nearly tripping on your skirts at his quick strides. You legs still struggled to move, the scene of Hayoon grasping at her throat repeating over and over again. If it wasn't for his tight grip on your waist, you though you would very well collapse. "What are you going to do?"

Your eyes glanced behind you as you traversed the upper level to the main door, unable to hear anything else Hongjoong was saying over the panicked crowd around you.

You didn't like Hayoon. Hell, if you were truly being honest, you would even say you hated Hayoon. Hated her for the way she had treated you. Maybe you had even wished she would known what it felt like to be the one on the other side, to get a small taste of her medicine, if just a little, but that hadn't meant you had wanted her to die.

"Nothing that you need to worry about. All you need to know is that you're safe with us now. None of these pigs will ever harm you again."

Jongho weaved his way through the crowd effortlessly, and the invisible barrier that had kept them from leaving had no effect on you as he guided you through the doorway with ease.

Jongho closed the doors to the hall once you were through, shutting out the noise of the room behind you. He seemed to breathe easier now that you were both out and motioned for a nearby daemon guard to grab your cloak before the two of you stepped outside. His shoulders were still tense, but his grip on you had lightened, fingers no longer digging into your skin.

"What the hell is happening, Jongho?" You pulled away from him as you found your strength once more, eyes narrowing. You didn't know what madness they had planned, but you knew nothing good was about to go down on the other side of those doors. Whatever it was, it was something they didn't want you to see. Something they didn't want you to know about. "Where are you taking me?"

"Has it... has it really always been like that for you?" Despite your obvious frustration, his gaze softened as he took you in, no longer in a hurry now that he had gotten you out of the main hall.

"What are you talking about?" You tilted your head, slightly caught off guard by his sudden change in topic.

"That girl. She treated you so horribly, even in front of Hongjoong, And the others..." His words were soft as he tried to reach for you once more, but you stepped back from him before his hand could touch, causing it to just fall short. "I could hear what they were saying about you. What everyone was saying about you. You've saved so many of their lives, and yet, the only gratitude they seem to show you is to allow you to keep breathing."

"So? It's nothing new." Your arms crossed, attempting indifference. "I've been treated like that since I was born. That's the price you pay when you're someone like me. You should know that. It's not like the daemons have ever treated us any better. Or has the fact you just kill us when we're born blinded you to the way we're treated when we're allowed to live?

"This," you motioned to your figure as you continued, to the dress that still adorned your body and the castle you were still standing in. "This isn't me, Jongho. This dress, this party, the people. None of this is me. They never have been and they never will be. Not for someone of my status. It's just the way that it's always been. It's the way it will always be. Hayoon knew that and you killed her for it."

Oh, god, why had they killed her?

"She was going to have you killed, angel."

"That didn't mean you had to kill her!" Your arms wrapped tighter around your body, unable to suppress the shiver that racked your body as your mind replayed the scene once more. "I didn't want you to kill her."

"I'm sorry, angel, truly, but she resigned herself to her own fate. You're under our protection and anyone who threatens the lives of those under the golden crown are punished with death. Hongjoong had no choice but to-"

"Choice? There's always choice." You spit back. "The law said I should have just let Seonghwa die, and yet I chose not to. So don't tell me you didn't have a choice. The only one who doesn't have a choice here, is me." You were done playing the nice and safe act. You were done playing their game. "So, what the hell is going on? And don't give me the fucking Hongjoong excuse. I want answers. Now."

"And you'll get them, angel, I promise. Let's just get you home and out of that dress. You can take a bath to calm down and change into something more comfortable, okay? And then we can talk. How does that sound?"

You shook your head. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I know you're upset, y/n, and I can understand your frustrations, but will you please just come with me? I really don't want to have to force you back to camp."

You would have laughed at the irony of his words if it wasn't for the fact they had swiftly reminded you of the fact your siblings were still inside. In the midst of your panic, you had all but forgotten about Soomin and Hyunwoo, and your breath caught at the thought of them still being in there. Of something happening to them.

You scrambled back to the door, fingers prying at the handle to open it back up, but Jongho stopped your movements before just as it started moving.

"Let me go!" You struggled against his grasp, fighting to get back to the door. "My siblings are still in there!"

"y/n, please. You don't need to go back in there. Your siblings are fine. Mingi escorted them out a few minutes before we left. They'll be waiting for you back at camp when we return."

This made you stop. "They're at the camp?"

"Of course. We know how much they mean to you." Jongho smiled, taking advantage of your shocked state to let his fingers brush along your cheek, fully taking in your wide-eyed expression. "So, what do you say? Shall we head back and join them? The others will follow once they've finished taking care of a few things."

"If I agree, you'll answer my questions, right? You'll tell me what's going on?"

"You'll have to wait until Hongjoong returns, but yes. He promises to answer any and every question you might have for us." Jongho nodded, taking the cloak the guard had brought back and wrapping it around your body for you. "Is that okay, angel?"

You hated the sincerity he was showing you. How could he treat you with such softness after what had just happened? After everything they had done? Acting like he hadn't just willingly let his king murder someone and then following through with his orders without batting an eye. Acting like he was innocent in all this. Hongjoong may have killed Hayoon, but he was just as guilty for the role he had played.

Damn hypocrite.

Jongho flinched, making you half-wonder if he had just heard what you had called him in your head. Based on the frown that tugged at his lips, you assumed he had, but felt no ounce of guilt for it. After all, if he didn't want to hear how frustrated you were at him and the others right now, he shouldn't have gone digging through your mind.

"You already know the answer to that," you began your reply to his earlier statement, ignoring the pained expression that had crossed his face as you pushed past him to start the long walk back. "After all, we both know I don't have a choice."

~

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[padfootagain]

Just Fine

Hi everyone! Here I come with a new request for my Comeback Event! This is actually the last request!! I've completed the whole list! Thank you to all of you who participated in the event, and I hope you enjoyed the fics I wrote!

This was sent in by an anon: “hi!! I hope you are doing great 💕 can i request Sirius Black, soulmates au, wounded character leads to confession xx”

Thank you so much for your request, anon! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written for you!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: Violence, graphic depiction of torture, main character being severely wounded

Summary: You knew you should have never accepted this mission Dumbledore gave you. But someone had to go, and if risks were to be taken, you might as well be the one taking them. But when you are badly wounded, Sirius can’t help but confess one of his most precious secrets…

Word Count: 6270 ( a little long… oops?)

You never looked at the compass that adorned the skin of your left forearm.

A circle and an arrow engraved into your skin in black ink. Or well, what looked like black ink, but marks like these coloured the arms of babies since their birth. A compass to point every individual on the planet in the right direction. A compass to make sure that everyone on Earth would have a chance to find their other half, the person who would spend their entire life loving them, their soulmate…

True love. Follow the arrow on your skin. Follow it to the end of the world, if necessary. Find your soulmate. Find this other piece of your soul, this individual the Universe has appointed to you. Love them. Marry them. Be happy. Build your life around them, and if you’re lucky, you’ll leave this world with them too. Holding each other for your last shared breath. Eyes closing together for the last time.

Find them. Follow the arrow on our skin and be happy forever.

You looked at the bandage you cautiously wrapped on your forearm every day.

Bullshit. All of it.

Find your soulmate, be happy… no one was happy, these days. Finding your soulmate, that didn’t mean being happy these days, it meant being weak. A weakness… you couldn’t afford that king of things. You had a war to fight. A battle to win. Another risk to take…

You gathered some cold water into your palms and rinsed your face with it. Cold, invigorating…

As you looked up and caught your reflection in the mirror, you noticed the dark bags under your eyes. You still had a bruise colouring your jawline and a scratch across your cheekbone. Signs left by your latest mission…

And around your left forearm, a white bandage that you placed there every morning, making sure to not look at the compass engraved on the inside of your arm. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t want to know where your soulmate was, you didn’t want to know if they were close or not, you didn’t want to find them. What was the point? In a world at war, it would only bring you sorrow and fear. No… no, better not know about it. Ignorance was better than sadness.

Because, if you were to be honest with yourself, you were lying when you pretended that you didn’t want to find your soulmate to avoid worrying about them all the time. Actually, you worried about them already.

If your soulmate died, the arrow on your skin would disappear. If they were dying, the inky mark would slowly fade, till it would be gone for good. And you didn’t want to know. If they were gone already, if this crazy war had killed them before it could kill you, you didn’t want to know. You reckoned that you weren’t strong enough… You already had to take in the violence, the risks, the fears… you couldn’t carry on your shoulder the weight of losing all hopes of finding the person you would love most on this Earth too. It would be too painful. After all, if you took so many risks, if you accepted the most dangerous missions, if you were ready to die out there, it was mostly because of this stranger you loved already.

You had never met them. You didn’t know their name, their identity, their favourite colour or even if they were a wizard or a muggle. You didn’t care. You loved them already. And if you wanted to have a chance to taste this happy life this compass promised you, then you needed to make the world a better place first. To have a chance at a happy ending, you needed the world you lived in to allow such a thing.

You heaved a sigh, put on your shirt and walked out of the bathroom to grab a quick breakfast.

One day, you would take off this bandage and look for happiness. For now, you had a war to fight.

Sirius knew you were walking in the room before he turned towards the door and saw you. He knew it, because he always did. Whenever you were near, it was like a sixth sense… his heart skipped a beat.

He pulled on his sleeve to make sure the compass on his forearm was hidden. He knew you didn’t want to know who your soulmate was, so you couldn’t see that the arrow on his arm was pointing at you.

It took a while for Sirius to figure it all out. When he finally discovered the truth, once he was absolutely certain that it was you, that you were his soulmate, that the two of you were meant to be together… it was already too late. You were in your sixth year, and he was in his seventh, and you had already planned to join the fight against Voldemort. You had already decided that you didn’t want to know about your soulmate. You had already started to cover the mark on your skin with a bandage.

You didn’t want to know, and he understood why. Had he known what it would be like to fight in this war, Sirius would have probably taken the same decision. It was painful, really, to worry about you all the time.

So, he didn’t say anything. He kept his mouth shut and his compass hidden, and he fought every day, hoping you were safe, hoping you would both survive this crazy war, hoping he would have a chance to finally tell you that he loved you with all his heart already…

But for now, all he could do was to smile as you walked into the backroom of the Leaky Cauldron, barely a few minutes before the meeting of the Order would begin. You walked towards him with a matching smile on your lips.

You looked beautiful, even though it was obvious that you were exhausted. He wished he could hold you close, let you rest your head against his shoulder, cradle you until you would fall asleep…

“You look terrible,” was his only welcome.

“Thanks. Fighting three Death Eaters at once will do that to you.”

Your smile was amused now, it was reaching your eyes.

“You look pretty exhausted yourself, Black,” you added, your smile widening even more.

“Yeah well… What can I say? James’s snores are worse than Death Eaters at times.”

You chuckled, and butterflies flew across his stomach in response.

He wished he could kiss you…

“Do you know why Dumbledore made us all come here so quickly? Did something happen?”

Sirius shrugged.

“I have no idea. All I know is that he called for a meeting on short notice. But then again, I reckon that if he did so, it is because he must have learnt some bad news, indeed.”

You nodded, finally taking a seat next to him. The room was full, with chairs lined up in five rows, facing an empty seat that had been saved for Dumbledore. The air trembled under hurried whispers between the different members of the Order of the Phoenix.

You brushed your arm against his without noticing as you took a seat, and it sent shivers running down his spine…

He wondered sometimes if you felt the same, even if you didn’t know that you were destined for each other. Did you still feel bound to him? Did you feel attracted to him, even if you didn’t know that it was meant to last for a lifetime? He had found out about the two of you pretty quickly after you started being friendly towards one another, so it all came quite naturally to him. He wasn’t sure if he was already in love with you by the time he was certain that you were his soulmate. He didn’t really care though… you didn’t want to be in a relationship, not even a casual one. No strings attached. Wise decision, without a doubt.

“So, you’re still staying with the Potters for now?” you asked him, checking your watch.

The meeting was about to begin, but Dumbledore was still nowhere to be seen.

“Yep. It’s safest that way. James and Lily will soon have to go into hiding, and so will I. But for now, it’s better if we remain together. We can take turns at night to keep an eye on the door, you know?”

You nodded.

“Yeah… I’ll soon have to go into hiding too, I reckon.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… my last mission was rough. I know some Death Eaters have been looking for me. Actually… this might be one of my last missions out there, in the open.”

Sirius tried to hide how relieved he was by the news.

“If you’re chosen for this mission, that is,” he replied.

“Of course. But… you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know. Well, I hope we both have a chance to actually go into hiding,” he added with a grim look painted all over his face.

You looked at him for a moment. You looked for a few seconds at his long dark hair that he had tied in a low bun. You looked at his stormy eyes, the dark bags that coloured the skin right under them, the stubble that coloured his jaw and cheeks. You had noticed already that he had been losing some weight over the past few months, his cheeks were a bit more hollowed than they used to be. Your eyes lingered on the beauty spot under his right eye…

You hoped he would go into hiding. You hoped he would be safe. Somehow, you knew that it would break your entire life if anything happened to him…

“Let’s hope so,” were the only words you had the strength to speak out loud.

Finally, Dumbledore entered the room. He looked exhausted as well. In the tiny room filled with dust and ashes from the large hearth sitting against the left wall, there were about twenty people gathered. All looked tired, most were wounded already. You were all in a pretty bad shape these days…

“My friends, thank you all for coming so quickly,” Dumbledore welcomed his soldiers. “I am terribly sorry to force you to come here tonight, but there is a matter we must discuss that cannot be delayed.”

He settled in the empty chair, facing the group. In the dim light of the room, turned golden and red as it came mostly from the fire burning in the hearth, his little glasses were shining bright, even more so than his blue eyes.

“I have gathered some information about a weapon that could be used by Voldemort against us. It is a very ancient artefact, that is safely kept at the Ministry of Magic. Or at least, for now it is kept there. One of our spies has warned me that Voldemort intends to steal it. This artefact would give him an immense power. We cannot let him have it.”

“How do you propose we do that, then?” someone asked, and you recognized Arthur Weasley, sitting a couple of rows before you. “It will be hard to place people to protect the artefact 24/7.”

“We will not protect the artefact while it is inside the Ministry. We must steal it. Or to be more precise, we must steal it before Voldemort has a chance to do so himself.”

A heavy silence settled inside the room.

Stealing something from the Ministry… it sounded like madness.

Dumbledore turned to you, and you already knew what he was about to ask. You worked at the Ministry. You knew the place like the back of your hand, you had learned all of its secret passages and hidden corridors in case something like this would happen.

You were Dumbledore’s way in and out of the Ministry.

“Y/N Y/L/N works at the Ministry and has been memorizing all the details needed to enter or exit each room of the building. We have a way in and a way out thanks to her. And if you agree to take such a risky mission, I reckon that we don’t have much of a choice this time. We need your help.”

You gave him a reassuring smile, and you didn’t notice the way Sirius’s fists clenched beside you as the old wizard spoke.

This was madness… this was too dangerous… If you were caught by Voldemort’s spies in the Ministry, you would be killed. If you were caught by any other member of the Ministry, you would be arrested, and sent to Azkaban, without a doubt. No matter what this artefact was, it seemed powerful enough to be a threat. If you were caught trying to steal it, it would be a one-way ticket for you towards the wizarding prison…

“You can count on me,” you nodded, and Sirius was impressed by how well you could hide your fear. You seemed peaceful, confident, as you answered.

“Good. I would also like to ask Arthur Weasley to go for this mission. You work at the Ministry as well, Arthur. I reckon that Y/N could use your help.”

“Of course, I’ll go,” he nodded, and his wife held his hand in hers, a sad but resigned expression painted on her features.

“We need one more person for this mission. I am now asking for a volunteer. It is dangerous, desperately so. I know that I am asking a lot from all of you; and I completely understand if you refuse to volunteer. But we must take the risk, or we might lose the war this time.”

Dumbledore was about to speak again when Sirius stood up.

“I’ll go with them.”

His voice was determined, firm. When you looked up at him, he didn’t seem afraid.

Your heart shattered at the thought of Sirius taking such risks.

But then… what choice did he have? The woman he loved, his soulmate was about to head right into a suicidal mission. He didn’t have a choice. He needed to go with you.

You would either both get out of this alive, or you would both lose your lives. But he intended to protect you, no matter the cost…

You don’t know where Sirius is. Nor do you know anything about Arthur. At this point, all you are aware of are the sparks and flames and the debris flying across the corridor as curses crash into the wall next to your head.

You feel something on your cheek. It’s wet and warm, it rolls down the side of your face all the way to your jawline. When you pass a finger across your temple, it’s painful. You look at your fingertips and recognize the dark liquid staining your skin now. You’re bleeding.

“She’s over there!”

You start running again. This hiding spot of yours, at the corner of a corridor, it couldn’t last for long, anyway. It was temporary. Just enough to catch your breath again before running as fast as you can once more. You need to reach the second floor, but you don’t know how. The more you run, the more certain you become that you’re not going to make it. No way. There are too many of them…

Arthur has the artefact, Sirius is with him. Your job now is to buy them some time. They need to get out of the Ministry, to ensure that Voldemort doesn’t get his hands on this magical object. To ensure that Sirius lives, too…

You run faster than you’ve ever run. You can see the end of the corridor now. You pass a series of closed doors on your right, empty offices left unattended for the night. Because it is night, indeed. You can’t see them now, but outside, constellations are lighting up the heavens with their cold and distant brightness.

You’ve almost reached the door to the stairs when sparks and flashes come flying around you.

Green. Red. Red. White. Green…

A red spell hits you on the leg, and you fall as a jolt of pain springs through your right knee. Your hands are not enough to break your fall, and as you nose collides with the floor, you hear the loud crack of your bone breaking. Blood floods from your nostrils. It hurts like hell…

You reach for your wand, but it’s too late. The three cloaked figures have closed up on you already, and your wand flies across the corridor, landing several meters away. As you roll to lay on your back, one of them kicks you hard in the stomach, and all of a sudden you have no air left in your lungs and you’re choking, unable to breathe at all for long seconds.

“How many of your lot are here?”

You recognize the voice. It’s easy to do so. She has a madness in her tone that matches no other.

You glare up at the skull hiding Bellatrix’s face.

“No one,” you reply.

“I know it’s a lie. There are at least two of you. I saw my cousin running away, like the coward he is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just working late tonight…”

“Don’t try to play dumb.”

“Just matching your own IQ, really…”

Another kick in your stomach prevents you from answering, as you struggle for breath again.

The tall figure standing next to Bellatrix tilts their head, as if weighing their options.

“Should we kill her now?” asks a voice you can’t recognize, although it belongs clearly to a man. “Or do we have time to have a little fun with her first?”

Bellatrix and the stranger turn to the third Death Eater. He’s clearly the leader of this operation.

“Do as you please. But if you hurt her first, try to find out about her accomplices. We need the artefact.”

You recognize that voice though. Cold, slow, unbearably detached…

“Fuck you, Snivellus.”

You guess a smile in the sound of his voice when he replies to your insult.

“Looks like you’re not the one laughing anymore, are you Y/N?”

He turns to the others, giving orders in the same impersonal tone he always wears.

“I’ll go look for Black. You two try to make her talk. You have ten minutes. Then, whether or not she’s told you anything, kill her. Aurors will soon be here, we must leave before they arrive.”

He walks down the corridor again, leaving you alone with Bellatrix and her deadly friend.

She lets out a mad laugh, clapping her hands together in excitement.

“Finally! Finally, we can have some fun!” she cries in excitement.

“Tell us where your friends are,” the man asks, already pointing his wand towards you. “How many of you came here tonight?”

You try to move your legs again, but fail miserably. Your wand is too far for you to have any chance to reach it.

So… that’s how you’re going to die, huh?

You merely hope that Sirius makes it… At this moment, you can’t find a way to care about your mission, about the artefact, not even about Arthur, even though you genuinely like the guy. No, all you can think of is Sirius. You pray for him to be safe. You can’t say that you’ve ever really believed in God. How could you with all that you’ve seen of the cruelty of this world? Still, if there’s a God, any God, you beg Them now. You beg Them to save him…

If you could have had a soulmate, you wished they could have been Sirius…

But you don’t have any time left. It’s okay, as long as Sirius lives…

“Go fuck yourselves, you psychopathic piece of shit,” is your only answer, you spit the words with all the hatred your heart is physically able to create.

You don’t need to see their faces to know that they’re both grinning. They’re enjoying this. They’re enjoying the fact that your silence is synonym of an excuse for them to torture you as much as they want for the next ten minutes.

So be it then.

Red sparks form at the tip of the man’s wand before he even speaks the curse. You know what he’s going to say. You close your eyes, bracing yourself…

“Crucio!”

He doesn’t know where you are. That is the scariest part. He has no clue.

Arthur is gone, safely escaping with the artefact. He’s going to call for reinforcement. And Sirius was supposed to follow him as he Apparated, he was supposed to run away as well.

He can’t. How could he leave you behind?

He’s running. Running as fast as he can. He has never run so fast in his entire life. He pulls up his sleeve, staring at the arrow inked in his skin.

Right. He must turn on his right next.

He’s coming. He’s coming for you he simply hopes he’s not too late. Lungs burning, throat dry, panting. Everything hurts. He’s never been one to believe in God or a superior power, after all, he’s seen too much of the world for that. Still, now he’s begging. He’s begging, if there is a God out there, They must protect you. They must because… because he’s fucked in the head, and a real mess, and beyond saving, beyond repair, but he loves you so much it aches there in his heart, that feeling that gnaws at him at night. He loves you so much he can’t live without you. He can’t do it. He understands it now, how most soulmates simply die together, in their sleep, as if they had agreed on their body giving up together. He understands now all these widows and widowers dying right after their partners has passed away.

Because the mere thought of you leaving is unbearable. He can’t take it.

He reaches the end of the corridor, collides quite violently into the wall as he’s been running too fast to turn the corner. He glances down at his arm again.

Straight ahead.

Straight ahead, Sirius is running once more. He’s coming, you just have to hold on… just a little longer…

He hears it before he sees you.

He hears the ear-piercing shout you let out. His heart is already pounding because of this crazy race of his but it breaks now. It shatters, like crystal falling on the floor. He can’t go faster, he physically can’t and it’s killing him…

At last, he’s come close enough to see the red sparks leaving the Death Eater’s wand, red in the almost-complete darkness that covers every inch of the corridor. A flash of red, you’re screaming again…

They’re torturing you. The realization strikes him, and when he hurries towards you and the two Death Eaters, it is with the intention of killing them both that he forces his feet forward.

His steps echo through the corridor, and your tormentors hear him coming. No advantage bound to surprise. He doesn’t care. When Sirius throws a Reducto curse at the Death Eater on the left, and that the man flies across the corridor to crash into the wall, Sirius hopes he’s dead. He wants him to be. He’ll deal later with his guilt, with morality, with good and evil, for now you’re lying there, on the ground, he can hear you crying in the stillness of the dark corridor, and he doesn’t care about anything but you. He can lose his soul for all he cares. He can be sent to hell, he can be arrested, he can lose his humanity, he doesn’t give a damn. All he cares about is your form lying there, huddled up on yourself, softly crying, in pain… you must be in so much pain…

For how long have they been hurting you like this?

He dodges a murdering curse, the green flash missing his shoulder by only a few inches. The duel begins. He’s certain to know this voice.

It’s Bellatrix. He knows it’s her…

She’s mad, but she’s strong, and he struggles against her. After a couple of minutes, both of the fighters have to take a short break. Only a moment spent staring at each other, although all Sirius can see in the dim light is the vague appearance of a dead face…

He notices then that you’re silent. There is no noise left in the building but his breathing and Bellatrix’s. You’re not crying anymore.

Bellatrix lets out one of her mad laughs.

“Ha, there she goes. I reckon your little friend here has passed out. Or perhaps she’s dead? Possible, we had a lot of fun with her, after all…”

It’s back. The complete, pure hatred in his heart. He’s tired after duelling, perhaps that’s why his wrath had partly faded. Now it’s back.

Before she can add another word, Sirius summons all his strength, all the magic boiling inside of him to curse his opponent. Despite the shield she summons, Bellatrix is sent flying towards the wall as well, and lies there unconscious.

It leaves Sirius empty, exhausted…

He doesn’t care though. He summons some more light at the tip of his wand in a silent spell, and hurries to you. He falls on his knees by your side more than he consciously kneels down.

“Y/N…”

His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible, barely there at all. He bends down to rest his ear against your mouth, but he can hear you breathing and he feels the air brushing his skin. He heaves a relieved sigh, even if he notices how irregular and weak your breathing is.

He calls for you several times, gently shakes your shoulder, before you finally blink your eyes open.

“Sirius…” you call, only half-conscious.

Everything hurts. Everything hurts like never before. You can barely breathe at all, you notice how hard it is to force every intake of air into your lungs.

It hurts… you want it all to stop…

Sirius carefully brushes his knuckles across your cheek in a soothing gesture. You love the feeling of his skin against yours and you do find the tender touch reassuring.

“Y/N, you have to stay with me, okay? Arthur is gone to look for help. They’re on their way. You just have to hold on now, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Snape… he was here too…” you breath, your voice hoarse and shaky but this is important and you force the words out even if it hurts your chest and ribs and face to do so…

“Snape?”

“Yes… he went looking for you. They saw you when we separated.”

“Don’t worry about this git, he’s not important right now.”

“You could stop him…”

“Who cares about stopping this prick? I’m not leaving your side.”

You start coughing, it hurts too much to breathe, it’s too much effort…

When blood comes out of your mouth, Sirius’s eyes grow round.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t have a clue. He’s shaking by now.

You don’t seem able to calm down this coughing fit, so Sirius slowly, carefully, takes you in his arms and cradles you. It’s tender, the way he holds you against him. It’s loving, actually.

He strokes gently your hair to calm you down, and it works somehow.

He smiles.

“Calm down, it’s okay. I’m here, help is on its way. You’re going to be just fine.”

But you know he’s lying. You know it because you can read it in his grey eyes. Stormy. The colour of a rainy afternoon.

You know you’re dying, you’re not stupid enough to believe in miracles. You’re happy these eyes are the last thing you’re going to see though.

A tear rolls down your cheek, and Sirius gently brushes it away before putting down his wand next to him, so he can caress your cheek properly.

You have one last regret though. Now that it’s time… you might as well admit it out loud.

“Sirius…”

“I’m here. Don’t speak, keep your strength. It’s okay…”

“I wish…”

You have a bitter smile as you glance down at the bandage that never leaves your forearm.

“Can you… can you take it off?”

Sirius frowns hard.

“I thought you didn’t want to know about your soulmate.”

“Yeah… that was… pretty stupid. I wish I knew them… I wish… I wish I could see them, at least once…”

Your eyes flutter shut, but Sirius sounds so distraught as he calls your name again that you have to force your eyelids to lift up again.

You give him a smile.

“You know… I wish… it’s gonna sound silly but… I wish it were you.”

Sirius lets out a chuckle, and you don’t understand why. Maybe it’s because it really is crazy… but then again, you’re dying. You’re not fully aware of what you’re saying.

“You idiot!” he lets out between gritted teeth. “You moron!”

You frown a little, the movement too painful for you to do it properly.

Sirius shakes his head at you, before pulling on your bandage to reveal the compass painted on your skin.

He lifts up your arm a little so you can see the arrow pointing towards him.

“It is me, you moron,” he breathes, and you notice then that he’s crying too. “I’m your soulmate, you bloody imbecile!”

He hears you gasping, but the sound is hoarse because of your wounds. He cups your face in his large, calloused hand, forcing you to look up at him. And as you lose yourself in his grey eyes, drowning in salty tears, you reckon you could never look away again… you don’t have that kind of strength…

“I’m your soulmate,” he repeats, cradling you closer in his arms. “You’re my soulmate, Y/N. I love you… so much. You have to stay alive, do you hear? Because if you die… I can’t take it. I can’t lose you. So please… I’m begging you, Y/N… hold on. Just a little longer, please. They’re coming to help you, but you need to hold on. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave…”

You’re going to speak, when Sirius looks up. He’s heard footsteps hurrying towards the two of you, down the corridor. He reaches for his wand, points it at the approaching sounds… he can hear that several people are approaching.

When he finally recognizes Arthur, along with James and Marlene and Moody, he heaves a relieved sigh, and lowers his wand again, a hopeful smile curving up his lips.

But then he looks at you once more, to find your eyes closed, your lips slightly parted.

And no matter how many times he calls for you, you don’t wake up.

When he looks at his compass again, the lines are fading. Slowly, they are disappearing, the dark lines becoming paler and paler… He stares with horrified eyes.

His compass is vanishing.

You’re dying…

You were lying on a bed. When you woke up, you were alone in a hospital room of St Mungo’s. Your body was aching but the pain had mostly subsided, it was bearable now. You could breathe easily once more. You were exhausted though.

You stared at the white ceiling for a while. It was stained with tiny cracks and defects in the paint. It felt cold, impersonal. Like everything in a hospital.

The first thought that came back to you was the Ministry. This corridor, Snape, Bellatrix and the unknown Death Eater. The pain, so much of it…

And then, Sirius.

You remembered Sirius holding you against him, you remembered his grey gaze drowning in his tears. You remembered the shakiness of his begging voice, you remembered the arrow on your arm pointing at him, you remembered his confession.

Sirius was your soulmate…

You were glad to be alone in this hospital room. Because it meant that you could play the scene over and over again in your head.

Your heart was pounding.

Sirius was your soulmate…

As realization finally formed in your mind, a smile appeared on your lips.

You wanted it to be him. You wanted Sirius for soulmate, and suddenly it was very clear why you longed for him this way. He was your soulmate. That was why you wanted him. Why you had always craved for him, hoped it would be him that the Universe had sent for you.

You lifted your arm, noticed it was still bandaged. You made a movement to take the clothe off, but the door of your room opened, and you were distracted, looking up at the newcomer.

Sirius gave you a crooked smile.

“So… how is our hero of the day doing?”

You grinned at him as he sat on the edge of your bed. He smelled of cigarettes and was holding a warm cup of coffee in his hand. You guessed he was coming back after a smoke.

Had he stayed with you while you were asleep?

“Have been better,” you admitted. “It’s a tough job to be heroic.”

“I can see that. You look terrible.”

“You look exhausted yourself.”

“Just trying to match your energy, really. Wouldn’t want you to feel too bad by looking my usual gorgeous self.”

You couldn’t refrain a chuckle, and the sound of it made him grin.

“Thank you for your sacrifice.”

“You’re welcome.”

Silence settled in the room for a moment, as you stared at each other, until Sirius would take a sip of his coffee, looking down as he reached for your hand.

“Do you remember what happened at the Ministry?”

You nodded.

“What happened to the Death Eaters?” you asked, not quite ready yet to talk about what Sirius meant to discuss.

“They ran away. I was too busy taking care of you, I didn’t notice anything. I let them get away.”

“Well, you did save my life, so… I reckon you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself.”

His thumb drew tiny patterns across the back of your hand, it made your heart jump and skips beats.

It felt soothing, reassuring… A simple gesture that meant the world to you.

“I wasn’t talking about the Death Eaters when I asked you if you remembered what happened, though,” insisted Sirius, his voice low, deep, warm and yet deadly serious.

You nodded again.

“I remember. Until I blacked out, I remember everything.”

You smiled.

“I reckon I won’t need to hide that compass anymore.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? Why?”

“You didn’t want to know who your soulmate was, and I told you.”

“I wanted to know. I wanted to know before dying. I’m not mad at all.”

You noticed that he was clenching his jaw, and he suddenly fled your stare, looking at your entwined hands instead of your eyes; enlaced fingers that were meant to hold onto each other this way...

“You must be disappointed,” he breathed, so quietly you could barely hear him.

You frowned hard.

“Disappointed? In what?”

“In me,” he answered simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He shrugged, a bitter smile adorning his lips now.

“I’m a mess,” he went on. “I’m… lost and… my childhood and everything… it’s still hard for me to deal with it all. I’m not… You could have much better than me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry your soulmate had to be someone like me.”

When you remained silent, he ended up looking at you again, because he couldn’t take the stillness that had settled around the two of you. It was too oppressive, too scary.

But when he met your eyes once more, you were smiling.

“You really are dumb sometimes, Sirius Black.”

He quirked an eyebrow. You gave his hand a tender squeeze before speaking again.

“I’m very happy it’s you, Sirius. I told you in this corridor that you were the one I wanted, and I was being honest. I’m so happy it’s you. I wanted it to be you.”

“Why?” he shook his head, frowning hard by now. “I’m… I’m a mess…”

“True. But then, I’m a mess too. And besides… you’re a kind, smart, reckless, loyal mess and… that’s all I want really. Doesn’t matter if you’re a mess, the world is a mess. I’m just happy you’re the one for me. Cause I love you… tremendously so.”

Finally, he grinned. You let him unfasten your bandage, unwrap the clothe to reveal the compass on your skin. He rested his forearm next to yours to show the two arrows pointing at each other.

“You gave me a hell of fright tonight, don’t do that again, please…” he whispered.

“What if we went into hiding together? Keep each other safe?”

He grinned again.

“Sounds like a good idea. Very responsible.”

“One of us has to be. And you’re reckless, it can’t be you.”

“You’re as reckless as I am!”

“Maybe… but I’m still smarter.”

You laughed together, but Sirius had to give it to you.

“Maybe. Or well… wiser, at the very least.”

“I’ll take it.”

You raised your hand to his cheek, fingers shaking slightly. He leaned into your soft touch, closing his eyes to bathe in the warmth of your palm.

“I’m terrified about this. About us,” you admitted. “Because now… I depend on you. I depend on you so much…”

“I know. I feel the same.”

“Sirius… are we going to be okay?”

But as he smiled, you couldn’t see any lies in his grey eyes. He seemed to speak the truth. And despite the war raging outside, despite the risks you had to take, despite what had happened during the night, despite your wounds, despite all logical thinking… when he answered you, you believed him.

“Of course, love. We’ll be okay. You’ll see. We’ll be just fine.”

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

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @hells-escapees

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[jimmypesto]

in honor of boblin week being two weeks away, I wrote this little oneshot about them! ❤️ this one’s rated mature so read at your own risk, and don’t forget to participate in boblin week may 27th-31st :)

As she dashes by Bob to get to the register, the hem of Linda’s dress brushes his thigh.

“Oops! Sorry.” She says.

Bob only grunts in response. Today has been one problem after another, between burning the toast at breakfast and a cluster headache that started at noon.

Linda, as usual, is immune to his foul moods. She’s been singing all morning, so now Bob has a made up tune about lettuce in his head. Seconds after her dress hits him, his brain catches up with the oddity.

“Wait. Lin.”

Stopping on his way to the kitchen, he turns to the register where she’s standing.

“Do you have plans today? You only wear dresses when you’re going out.”

Even then, Linda’s usual dresses don’t look like this one. They’re typically tight, accentuating her hips in a way that occasionally gets her free drinks. Today, the one she’s got on is light purple and flowy. It looks much comfier than the normal attire, granting room for her body to breathe.

It’s also short. Very short. If Bob was just her boss, and not also her husband, he’d probably have her change on the grounds that the dress isn’t workplace appropriate. As it stands, however, the risk of her flashing a glimpse of skin is too exciting a prospect to pass up.

“This old thing?” Linda asks. “It’s basically the only piece of clean clothing that still fits me! Everything good’s in the laundry. Blech.”

Bob nods. If he’d woken up on the right side of the bed this morning, it’s very possible that this would be of more interest to him. Today, he’s too grumpy to fully appreciate the way the fabric of Linda’s dress stops above her mid-thigh.

“I’m washing your lazy pants, too.” She adds. “And my good nightgown, so we’ll both be nice and cozy tonight!”

She leans over the counter, cheek resting in the palm of one hand, and smiles to herself about the comfy evening ahead of them. The pose is so typical for late afternoons in the restaurant that it almost goes unnoticed by Bob.

Almost. Most days, when Linda leans on the counter and sighs with boredom, her ass only serves as a minor distraction. It looks nice in jeans, great even, but she wears them so frequently that Bob’s become accustomed to it.

“Oh my God. Lin.” He says now, pure astonishment winning out over his bad mood.

Still bent forward, Linda only turns her head slightly. She’s reached a point in the day where a countdown begins in her head: one hour til the kids get home, three before dinner, and five before she finally gets to rest her eyes.

“Hm? What is it, Bobby?” She asks, exhausted.

He stares at her ass, surprised by just how much skin her dress is showing at this angle.

“Are you wearing a thong?” He wonders.

This makes Linda laugh. The sound is airy and exhausted, like she’s long since forgotten putting on anything sexy.

“I am, aren’t I?” She says wryly. “Yeah. Like I told you, Bob! Laundry day. All my regular underwear’s in the wash.”

All of Bob’s previous worries disappear, whizzing suddenly from his memory as though they never existed in the first place.

“Laundry day, right.”

He steps forward slightly, ready to grope her exposed skin. Something stops him at the last second, his heels falling back to the same place they started.

“Yup.” Linda says, words wrapped around a yawn. “You’d think more customers’d be comin’ on such a nice day! It’s all bright and sunny out.”

Bob just blinks. As the subject of her ass soars past him, he stands paralyzed staring at it. Somehow, eighteen years into marriage, Linda’s managing to fluster him without even trying.

“Bobby?” She asks, when a few seconds pass with no response. “I said it’s nice out, don’t you think? I’m surprised there aren’t more people around.”

Concerned by his silence, she stands up straight and turns to face him. With her dress hanging modestly again, Bob is able to produce a coherent sentence.

“Oh. The weather, yeah. It is nice. Uh…you know what else is nice?”

Slipping a hand beneath her dress, he gives her ass a squeeze. Linda laughs, finally catching on to the effect she’s having.

“Oh boy. Is that what’s got you all tongue-tied? It’s just underwear, Bobby!”

He squeezes again, a little in awe every time he touches her. Maybe he takes Linda for granted sometimes. Not about the big stuff, like parenting or being his business partner, but he’s been feeling sorry for himself all day and forgetting that the oldest pick-me-up in the book is right here at his fingertips.

“It’s not just underwear.” He argues, his thumb rubbing a circle on her ass. “It’s really…nice. Your ass looks like a big, juicy…sorry. I don’t know where I was going with that.”

As always, whatever charm he has crumbles in the face of Linda and her effortless hotness.

She crosses her arms, resting her back against the counter, and pokes a finger at Bob’s chest. The simple gesture flusters him enough that he draws his hand back.

“You feelin’ alright, Bobby?” She teases. “You’re lookin’ a little flushed there.”

When she points out the blush creeping up his neck, it only makes Bob go redder. He feels like he’s back in high school, hitting on a pretty cheerleader and getting rejected. Not that he ever actually did that, but it did cross his mind once or twice.

“I’m feeling good.” He says, injecting false confidence into his voice. “I’m so good. You think we should take a late lunch break? Close the restaurant for a while?”

As he speaks, he leans his face toward hers. Then, in a stroke of terrible timing, the bell above the entrance rings suddenly throughout the room. Bob startles.

Linda smirks, leaning in for a split second before ducking out of his way. Sidestepping him, she shrugs and walks backward in the direction of their customers.

“Welcome in!” She calls out, not breaking eye contact with Bob.

Then, in a whisper meant just for him, she tosses out one last teasing remark.

“Think I should pretend to drop my pen and bend over? Might get a big tip out of it.”

Bob’s mind goes completely blank. By the time he’s processed what Linda just said, she’s already halfway toward the group of men who have just come in.

Shooting one last smile at Bob, she flashes him a wink that says their conversation isn’t over yet.

#this premise came from my girlfriend #bobs burgers #boblin #boblinweek24 #boblinnsfw #bob’s burgers #boblin week

[stellamancer]

notes: uh. well. i considered writing this with todoroki and deku but. uh. i wrote bakugou instead. ahaha.... anyway, i’m not gonna say i endorse eating ice cream for breakfast but.... well no one stopped me today. :D  i’m sorry i’m always writing about food. but.... i can’t help it. i love food. also not proofread. oops

word count: 786

When you turn around and find Katsuki standing behind you in the kitchen, you nearly drop your breakfast— three healthy scoops of vanilla ice cream sitting in a small ceramic bowl decorated with bunnies. 

Maybe he won't notice, you think— you hope. You scurry past him, doing your best to seem nonchalant, like having ice cream at eight o'clock in the morning is the most natural thing in the world. 

"Oi!" he half-yells and you jump, knowing from the tone of his voice that you've been caught. "What the fuck is that?"

You whirl around and find him glaring at your bowl like it’s done something to offend. Actually, knowing Katsuki, it probably has. You smile sheepishly, "Breakfast?"

Katsuki's eyes flicker up to yours, then back down to your bowl. His mouth twists into a scowl as he says, "That's fucking ice cream."

"...and?" you ask, tempting fate itself with your question. 

"That's not fucking breakfast," he grounds out as if it should be obvious. 

At this moment, there are two choices left open to you: concede and probably put your ice cream back in the freezer to be enjoyed at a more Katsuki approved time or to defend your choice.

You choose the latter.

"Sure it is," you argue, your tone light in an attempt to make it seem like you're not picking a fight with Katsuki who is most definitely a fan of the traditional Japanese breakfast. "Whatever you eat first thing in the morning counts as breakfast, right?"

He growls and you really should have known that he wouldn't let you off the hook with that kind of explanation. "You know what I mean, brat!"

You frown and shoot back. "I wanted something sweet!"

"Then fuckin' make pancakes or something!"

"No! That's too much effort!" you argue. While you can agree that some American breakfast offerings would definitely satisfy your sweet tooth, all of them require way more effort than you're willing to put in on a weekday morning when you have work. 

Katsuki scowls and you wonder if maybe, just maybe he'll make you pancakes. If he makes you pancakes, that would be the best thing ever, actually. You wouldn't mind giving up your ice cream for a taste of Katsuki's amazingly fluffy and soft pancakes. You know he knows this too, with the way he grins menacingly at you. Were you in the right mind, and not thinking of Katsuki's delicious homemade pancakes, you would have realized the truth of what's about to happen, but you're not and Katsuki lifts the bowl from your hands and deposits it in the freezer. 

In your foolishness, you make your way to the table and wait, your mind filled with images of pancakes— stacks of warm pancakes slathered in slabs of melty butter and drenched in luscious rivers of maple syrup. You’re practically salivating at the thought.  A few moments later Katsuki deposits another bowl before you and…

It’s yogurt. 

A modest amount of creamy white yogurt in a bowl, topped with an arrangement of fresh berries topped with a glimmering drizzle of honey with a sprinkle of granola. Katsuki’s not the type to go all out on plating, so you know that he tried here, but…

“These aren’t pancakes,” you say flatly, betrayed. 

"Y'really think I've got time to make fucking pancakes?" Katsuki retorts, ready to dig into his own bowl of fruit and yogurt.

You glance at the clock and he's got to leave in the next hour and you know that Katsuki's homemade pancakes are at least a two hour affair. 

"...guess not," you grumble, pouting. You lift the spoon and thank him for the breakfast but before you take a bite, you decide to ask. "...what's the difference between this and ice cream anyway? Other than the toppings."

" 's healthier, you idiot!" he hisses. "Now shut up and eat or you'll be late!"

"...but Katsuki," you whimper pathetically. "I want pancakes now. Take responsibility for deceiving me with the promise of pancakes."

He shoots you a glare but you ignore it and give him your best puppy dog eyes. The two of you have a staring contest that lasts a couple minutes and finally, finally, he rips his gaze from yours with the annoyed click of his tongue and you know that that means he's lost.

"Fucking fine! I'll make you pancakes on our next day off!" he relents and you cheer. "But I better not fucking catch you trying to have ice cream for breakfast again!"

"Okay!" you agree cheerfully, finally digging into the yogurt bowl Katsuki’s made for you, pleased that there will be pancakes.

Even though it’s going to be a whole week until you get them.

#bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #nikuniku fics #i really want pancakes now omg #i don't have stuff to make them #alas #finally not an emotional support bakugou piece lmao

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

Fooled Around and Fell In Love

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ (minors dni)

Warnings: mostly done in Jack’s pov with one switch to reader’s for a short time, mentions of death and funeral setting briefly, bar setting, alcohol consumption, (y/n) mentioned once, heavy make out session, smutty good times, oral (female & male receiving), p in v sex, the fluff is ridiculous topped off with the cutest ending I’ve ever written

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s Notes: I honestly have had this fic sitting for weeks and completely forgot about it. Oops. This idea has been in my head for at least a year and I finally did it. This was also the first timeI wrote a lot in Jack’s pov which was a lot of fun. I’m probably not going to have anything else until kinktober 👀 Thank you as always to @clint-aww-no-barton and I hope you all enjoy! Also if you have never heard the song played in the fic go give it a listen!! Fooled Around and Fell In Love by Elvin Bishop

ao3 link

Jack Daniels had only been in love once in his life. She’d been his high school sweetheart. He never did figure out how he’d won her heart, but he had. They were going to get married and she’d been pregnant, a baby boy. Then it was all ripped away from him. He’d stood in the cemetery and watched them lower her into the ground along with his heart. Buried six feet under. He swore that day, when he turned his back to her grave, that he was also turning his back on love. He was done with the silly four letter word, that meant nothing but heartbreak. It was hard at first especially seeing his parents, knowing their story. It was a beautiful one, one people wrote books about but Jack just supposed that life wasn’t for him.

  He fooled around of course. He still found women ridiculously attractive, and sometimes it was just too hard not to try and charm his way in. He would flirt until he found the perfect girl, who just wanted a little fun for the night. By the morning he was long gone. It got lonely sometimes, but when it did Jack would imagine himself right back at that grave. It was a reminder to not get attached, not to fall in love. He couldn’t do that again. He wouldn’t live through it a second time.

  He sat now at a local, small town bar, which had pulled in a crowd not long after he’d arrived. He was nursing his second whiskey, turned around on his barstool watching the crowd as it grew. This was his usual Friday night routine, when he wasn’t working. He would come here and wait for the ideal woman and then make his move. Tonight was busier than usual which, Jack didn’t mind at all. The bit of sunlight remaining suddenly broke through the dim lighting, and Jack turned his head to see who was walking in. That’s when his eyes fell on you.

*Your POV*

  You couldn’t believe your best friend had dragged you here. Actually you could. She was strong willed, and didn’t take no for an answer much. You’d rather be sitting at home, binge watching a show and eating your weight in ice cream.

  “Oh come on. Let’s get you drunk and laid.” Your best friend looped her arm within yours.

  “I’m not the one getting over a dick of an ex. I’ll pass.”

  “You still need to get laid honey. You’re too cranky.”

  “I am not! I’m perfectly fine. Plus there’s not a single guy in here who would look twice at me.”

  “Tell that to Burt Reynolds sitting at the bar.”

  You glanced over and sure enough, a man who looked like a younger version of Bandit himself, had his brown eyes on you. You felt your face heat as you turned away.

  “He’s probably looking at you.”

  “Oh honey. He’s not looking at me. Come on, let’s get a booth and I’ll get our first round.”

  You rolled your eyes but let her drag you along to a booth. This was going to be a long night.

*Jack’s POV*

  Jack watched you, as your friend dragged you to a booth reluctantly. You were beautiful. Honestly one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. Something about the fact that you obviously didn’t want to be here, just piqued his interest even more. A little more liquid courage and he would go make his move. He watched your friend walk over, confidence so clear on her face. She leaned on the bar calling out to the bartender, placing her order. Two whiskey’s on the rocks. Then she turned to Jack.

  “Hey tell me, where you looking at me or my gorgeous friend over there when we walked in?”

  “No offense against you darlin’ but definitely your friend.”

  “Oh no offense taken. You’re definitely her type. I just wanted to prove that I was right.”

  She grabbed her drinks and Jack smirked.

  “I’ll add more to your case here in just a minute.”

  “You better be nice to her. I have a black belt and I’ll kick your ass.”

  “I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

  Jack chuckled at your friend’s protectiveness over you. It just made him wonder more about you. Jack realized then, that this was the first time he wanted to actually get to know a woman in a long time. He pushed it away, trying to focus on just getting you in bed, before he downed the rest of his drink and got up. He weaved through the crowd, keeping his eyes on you. Your friend said something to you and you turned, your eyes growing wide before you spun back around, your face turning red. Jack couldn’t help but to think it was cute. Luckily you had just finished your drink, and it gave him the perfect excuse to speak to you.

  “Can I buy you ladies another round?” He spoke as he leaned on the table.

  “You can buy her another round,” your friend spoke and Jack smirked as his eyes went from her to you.

  “Uh yeah. Yeah I’ll take another…”

  “Whiskey on the rocks?”

  “Um…yeah,” you spoke slowly your eyebrow knitting together in confusion.

  “I’ll be right back.” Jack smacked the table before turning away.

  He ordered two drinks for you and himself before making his way back over.

  “May I join you?”

  “By all means.” This time you spoke and slid over, making room for him.

  “Names Jack. I’ve seemed to have forgotten my manners.”

  “Oh (Y/N),” you spoke giving him a shy smile.

  Your friend introduced herself, and then her eyes darted to someone in the crowd and gave a flirty wave. She excused herself, your eyes burning a hole in her as she went. Jack moved to the other side so he was facing you.

  “I see you were dragged here against your will.” Jack spoke and you pinched your nose between two of your fingers.

  “What gave it away?” The way you looked at him was full of embarrassment, but a smile still pulled at your lips.

  “A guy just knows,” Jack smirked as he leaned back, his arm draping across the back of his seat. “Not your usual scene then?”

  “Not really. I went through a very small stage where it was, but it didn’t last long. It ended in heartbreak so I’m safer at home in front of my tv.”

  “Ah come on. You gotta have fun every once in awhile.”

  “I guess I’ve had all my fun.”

  Jack felt his stomach sink slightly but he’d dealt with this before.

  “Oh sugar I promise you haven’t.”

  “What makes you say that?” You raised a brow, challenge in your voice.

  “Because you haven’t been with me yet.”

  “You sure are confident,” you chuckled lightly.

  “That I am. I ain’t ashamed of it.”

  “Definitely nothing to be ashamed of. I wish I had an ounce of it.”

  “You should. You’re a beautiful woman.”

  You looked down at the table your face once again red.

  “Thank you.”

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “It’s just…I don’t have the best record so…” your voice trailed off and Jack felt his heart clench.

  He wanted to make you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. He wanted you to believe it. It was now a mission of his, and he never left a mission unsuccessful. Jack slid out of his seat, and he watch your face fall slightly.

  “May I pull you to the dance floor sugar?” He reached his hand out and he saw a smile pull at your lips.

  “Yes you may.” You grabbed his hand, and he pulled you out of the booth and out onto the dance floor.

  A fast pace song was playing at the moment, so Jack spun you around and the two of you joined in on a little line dancing, before the song shifted to something slower. Jack pulled you close, his hands on your hips and yours wrapped around his neck. He watched you look around the bar, and he knew you were trying not to meet his eyes. He reached up and his finger brushed at your chin, moving your head until your eyes met his. You looked over his face, your eyes stopping briefly at his lips. He quirked an eyebrow and you gave him a soft nod. Jack dipped his head and his lips met yours. The entire world disappeared. It was just you and Jack. He felt something shoot through him, and it only made him kiss you deeper. He felt your fingers lace in the hair at the nape of his neck. You kissed him back with equal fever, and it made Jack wonder if you had felt the same as him. He never wanted to stop kissing you. He could stand here until the day he died, attached to your lips. He had to get you out of here, now. He pulled away and looked down at you. You were panting and searching his eyes. He could tell you were having a battle with yourself. You pulled him down, your lips brushing at his ear and pulling a shiver through him.

  “Take me home Jack,” your words were intoxicating and Jack gulped before nodding.

  You pulled him along to tell your friend where you were going. He could only let out a soft chuckle at the high five the two of you shared, before you all but pulled him out the door. Jack took the initiative then, and pulled you to his car. He opened the door for you and you slid in. He was quick to round the front and climb in, buckling and driving off. There was a comfortable silence, full of the tension that hung between you and Jack, as he drove as fast as he could without breaking the law. Your knee bounced rapidly, and Jack knew you were probably feeling the same excitement he was.

  Jack noticed far too late that he’d pulled into his driveway. He hadn’t even thought to ask you where you lived. He’d just driven straight here. Another sign he was off his usual game. Deep down, he already knew why. He shook his head slightly trying to clear his thoughts, to focus. The two of you filed out of his car, and he was quick getting the front door open. As he shut it, he moved to cage you between him and it. You were both panting, and he smirked, before he was kissing you again. Damn your lips, your kiss could make him drunk like he had several bottles of whiskey. You moaned against his lips and he shuddered. Your hands traveled over his shirt, and soon he felt his jacket fall to the ground. He was quick to get rid of yours, before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. One hand stayed secured around you, flat against your back, while the other traveled down to your ass. He gave you a quick squeeze, and with a gasp against his lips, you jumped circling your legs around his waist.

  The two of you stayed there for several moments, never coming up for air, you pressed between the door and Jack. He let out a breath through his nose, and pulled away reluctantly. Your eyes fluttered opened and you panted. Jack’s breathing was rapid as well, and he gazed at you.

  “Please tell me you want to,” his voice betrayed him as it came out slightly hoarse.

  “More than anything,” you breathed, your voice not even going above a whisper.

  That was all Jack needed, before he pulled you back to his lips, his kiss hungrier than before, as he walked through his house and to his room. He kept you close still with one arm, as the other caught him as he laid you down on the bed and hovered over you. You kept your arms secured around him but your legs slowly fell away, spread wide for him to stay between. He kept himself propped slightly letting his other hand wonder. He his slipped under your shirt and then under the wire of your bra letting his thumb brush across your already hard nipple. It pulled a moan from Jack’s lips and he sat up slightly bringing you with him. His lips parted from yours as he quickly pulled your shirt over your head and discarding it somewhere in the room. Lips back on yours he soon tossed your bra away too. Then he finally let his lips drop and start to wander across your body. Your skin was soft and you smelled so good, that once again Jack could only think about how he never wanted to leave this moment. He kept his kisses feather light as he explored you, finding all the places that made you moan. He noted them carefully, before he finally moved to your breast. He pulled your left nipple between his fingers and pinched slightly. At the same time he pulled your right one between his lips and flicked the hard bud with his tongue. You let out a loud moan, your back arching into him and Jack smirked at himself. He flicked once more as he pulled and then was gone. He was quick to repeat the process on the opposite breast. You, once again, beautifully responding to him. He started to make his way down your stomach, until he came to the top of your jeans. He leaned up slightly, undoing your button and zipper slowly. He glanced up at you and you let out a whimper in a plea. Jack felt his cock twitch at the sight and sound.

  He pulled your jeans away, along with your underwear and let them fall to the floor. He stood then, still stationed between your legs and looked down at you fully bare for him now. You were beautiful, no that wasn’t even the right word. There wasn’t one that accurately described you. Jack knew he was in so much trouble. His eyes that had racked over your body, now met yours, that still had a plea held in them. Your pupils blown, your lips swollen. It was truly a sight. He kept his eyes on yours as he removed his shirt and didn’t bother with his jeans yet as he kelt between your legs. He wound his arms around your legs, flatting his hands on your thighs to keep your legs open. The sight before him made him lick his lips. You wiggled and let out another desperate whimper, that sent Jack reeling. He dove, his tongue licking up your slit, and you let out the most beautiful noise Jack had ever heard in his life. You tasted incredible and it sent Jack into overdrive. He kept going, sucking and licking at your clit. He felt his hat knock off from his head, and your fingers in his hair pulling slightly.

  “Jack,” you panted out, pulling slightly harder and he looked up at you still giving your clit little flicks with his tongue.

  “Please…I want to feel you…inside me,” you begged and Jack smirked.

  He reluctantly pulled his mouth away from you and stood. You sat up your feet hanging from the bed, as he watched you undo his pants. He helped you shove his jeans and underwear down, and before Jack could think to make a move you had his cock in your hand. You were quick to take him into your mouth, and it was so unexpected it took Jack a moment to catch up. His hand laced in your hair and he pulled ever so slightly, pulling a moan from you around his cock. He let out a hiss and closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in how good your mouth felt on him. He pushed his heavy lids open, looking down at you and it was such a beautiful sight, it was so hard for Jack to stop you. He pulled you up to him and kissed you deeply. The both of you seemed to moan in unison at tasting each other on your lips. He lightly pushed you back once again, and hovered over you. He pulled away, his forehead falling to yours as he glanced down and lined himself up with your dripping entrance, before he pushed in. He made himself go slow trying to take in how you felt as you opened for him. He buried his head in your neck as he finally filled you completely, and it was like the perfect puzzle pieces coming together.

  “Fuck,” you whined and that sent Jack into a frenzy.

  He pulled out and then snapped his hips forward, letting out a moan at the feeling. He did this a few more time, pulling moans and curses from you before he set a quicker pace. The room filled with the noises coming from the both of you. Jack tried so hard to be quiet, so he could hear ever last little sound you made. He wanted to hear them for the rest of his life. He wanted to spend every spare second he had pulling them from you. You felt so good around him and he swore he had never been with anyone that felt this perfect. It was making him climb his high, quickly.

  “I’m so close,” you suddenly whimpered out.

  “Let go for me sugar,” Jack spoke in a horse voice.

  You snapped and clutched at him like a vice. It was enough for him to follow you. He drilled deep inside of you, and you milked him. He let out a groan as he buried his face in your neck. Your fingers came up and ran lazily through his hair. The two of you stayed like that for awhile, until you’d come back down to earth. Jack pulled out of you and gently laid down next to you. You turned on your side and he did the same, the two of you looking at each other.

  “You were right,” you spoke after a few moments and Jack’s eyebrow quirked.

  “About what sugar?”

  “That was a lot of fun. The most fun I’ve had in awhile,” you smirked and Jack felt his heart jump slightly.

  “I must say it was the most fun I’ve had as well sugar. You’re breathtaking,” the last few words fell from his lips in a whisper as he reached out and brushed away hair that was stuck to your face.

  His fingers lingered as they softly brushed down your face, and he watched your eyes close and lean into his touch.

  “Let me clean you up and we can get some sleep. That is, if you want to stay?” Jack had sat up and he paused looking back at you.

  “Yeah I think I would like that,” you looked up at him and he smiled as did you.

  He cleaned you up gently, and the two of you settled into bed. Jack pulled you close and watched as you slipped to sleep before he soon followed.

  The sun pouring into the bedroom window pulled Jack from the most blissful sleep he could recall having. He turned his head to look at you, and my god how beautiful you were. You were still peacefully asleep. Your breathe was even and the sun danced over you. Jack watch you for awhile weighing these feelings that were creeping up on him. He knew deep down no matter how hard he tried not to, love was going to creep back up on him one day. Looking at you in his bed next to him he could feel it. He gently and slowly crawled out of bed, slipping on some pajama pants before padding to his kitchen. He turned on the radio and turned the volume low letting old classic rock and country music fill the silence. He started in on fixing you breakfast, silently praying that you would want to stay for it.

  “I must've been through about a million girls

  I'd love 'em and I'd leave 'em alone

  I didn't care how much they cried, no sir

  Their tears left me cold as a stone”

  The familiar lyrics of a song filled the air around Jack, and he found himself smiling to himself. He moved around the kitchen and then he caught you leaning against the doorframe, hair ruffled and nothing but his shirt hanging on your figure. He knew in that moment, one glance at you, eyes catching yours. Both of your faces breaking out into smiles. The lyrics of the song rang true. Jack Daniels had fooled around and fell in love.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @arcadianempress​ @discogrrl​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedro​ @scribbledghost​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @princess-and-pedro​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @littlevodka​ @all-hallows-evie​ @mack4676​ @perropascal​ @audreyshepbvrn​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @kaqua​ @novemberrain221​ @weasleywinchester​

#pedro pascal #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fic #jack whiskey daniels x reader #agent whiskey smut #Jack whiskey daniels fic #agent jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x female reader #jack whiskey daniels x female reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #jack whiskey daniels x f!reader #jack whiskey daniels smut

[tanith-rhea]

ello!!!! may I request some sort of coffee shop au with Miranda and female reader? Either we work there and she's the customer who always brightens our day, or we just continue to run into (not necessarily literally, but also what is some spilled coffee if we get Miranda in exchange?) each other all the time? It's really up to you, I'm just asking for some cozy coffee romance :) <3 tysmmm!

Coffee, tea, or could I offer you me?

Working at a coffee shop wasn’t nearly as quaint and romantic as the books you’d read while growing up described. However, instead of accepting the dull reality and focusing on working to pay for college, you decided to make a difference, and be the cupid of the establishment. If you couldn’t live your coffee shop romance, you would help other people do so. That was before you witnessed the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen get stood up by her date.

Word count: 7.1k (oops)

As the cupid of the Rainbow Roast Café, your life mission was to provide ordinary people with the ristretto-like love experience of their life. Or at least give clients a funny story to tell their grandchildren one day.

Your co-worker Maggy had even a bet going on that you would pair off at least one more duo or group of individuals until the end of the month, to which Dave — your other co-worker — betted against, saying you had already struck twice this month and it was virtually impossible for you to get another success in just ten days.

You didn’t see it as a competition though. It was the closest you thought you could get to experiencing a coffee shop romance. Patrons who flirted with you often acted like creeps and it was very rare for one of them to be a woman. So, you decided that giving other people the chance at a nice and soft meet cute and possible love story was your best shot.

At first, you thought it would be a horrible breach of boundaries to tell a client that you saw someone eyeing them from the other side of the café, so you kept your cool and inwardly itched watching people nurturing crushes and not telling the other person about it. Until the day of your breaking point.

There was this girl that always came at eight-twenty and ordered a white chocolate mocha. She had a favourite table by the windows to the side and near the back, and she sat there every day without fail to people-watch and write in a journal-like notebook. That was until a month in on your job, another person arrived at eight and ordered a simple iced and bee-lined to the very table.

When the girl got her order that morning, she was stuck for a bit, watching the intruder of her sacred spot. You thought she felt pestered at having to choose another seat, but over the next few days it kept happening, and the looks she shot at the brooding figure at her table started to appear more like pining than cursing.

You, being nosy and lacking several social filters, approached her on a slow day with the biggest double chocolate chip cookie you could find and tried to strike up a conversation. She turned out to be just as nice as you thought she was, and two days later you finally asked if she liked the mysterious customer at her former table. She timidly admitted to having a crush and asked you to keep quiet about it. The next day you wrote into their cup about the cute girl in a cardigan and how she thought they looked cool.

Lysa and Rae are still customers, but they sit at the same table for four months now.

The following ones were easier. You would write in a piece that customer x told you they liked customer y and see where things went. You always befriended the customer first and then offered to help, and when they said yes you felt over-the-roof-happy. You were always social, but you never thought you’d have such an enormous amount of friends, all of whom were dating while you were still painfully single. It was nice though.

Everything was going great that particular day at the café. Andre had paid a visit to get Mina her usual smoked latte before class and invited you to a movie night at the weekend in her dorm. You had bonded with Mina through your shared guilty pleasure of watching cheesy love triangle dramas when you were sad, and her taste in movies was as close to yours as that of a soul buddy. You wished you had attended uni with them, it would have been so much fun.

But, however good the day was, there was still time for that to change. An hour before the end of your shift, a stupefying figure entered the coffee shop. A woman, so tall she could reach the 8’3 door head if she raised her hand, walked in and settled at one of the front window seats. Judging by her slightly nervous aura, you assumed she was waiting for a date.

There wasn’t much movement that time in the afternoon. Most people were working and the few customers around already had their orders, so you decided to go ask the recent arrival if she wanted something while she waited.

Getting closer, you noticed her whitish-blond hair looked very soft, as did her milky skin and overall presence. If it wasn’t for her height, you could say she would look very plain or unremarkable. A white woman, with blond hair and average proportions. That was before you rounded a table and saw her closer from the front. She had a very remarkable face. It was a combination of gentle eyebrows, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline that somehow managed to not be threatening but disarmingly inviting.

“Excuse me,” you cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt, “Would you like to order?”

When she looked up from her phone, bright pools of arctic blue glued you to where you stood. If you walked, you were quite sure your legs would give out. She was nothing but exquisite, and suddenly you wished she was waiting for you, and that just this once you were the protagonist of the story.

“I’m sorry?” she prompted, and her voice, for everything that is good in the world, her voice sent chills through your skin even though it was an unusually hot autumn day.

“I just asked if you would like to order something.” You took out your notepad for something to look at other than the gorgeous stranger. “I can bring you something while you wait for…” it was quite shameless, but of course, you were fishing for information, “whatever you are waiting for,” you hoped she wouldn’t feel offended by your less-than-professional approach.

“I’m just waiting for a friend.” She gave you a small, timid smile, and gazed at the table, confirming she very much wasn’t waiting for a friend. “He won’t take long, so I’ll order when he arrives.”

You only nodded, instantaneously slaughtered of all hope and happiness at the kind dismissal. You returned to your place behind the counter and started cleaning already clean coffee machines and the spotless counter.

She was waiting for a he. Of course, that didn’t mean she was straight, and she was so beautiful you’d feel personally attacked if she was. Maggy noticed your state and tsked from the kitchen door.

“What is it? Someone didn’t want to chat?” you usually felt disappointed when some people gave you hints they wanted to be left alone. You wouldn’t annoy a customer for the life of you, but it did make you pout.

When she approached the counter to look at you, however, her eyebrow arched, and a smug smirk twisted her face.

“Ooh, am I seeing a rejected puppy?” her pretentious tone made your lips twitch. She was teasing you, but you wouldn't give her the satisfaction of making you laugh.

"Not rejected. You know I don't flirt with clients, it's creepy enough when they do it to me."

"Oh, so what would you call it then? Friendly banter?" you snorted ungracefully. It was true you were comfortable with teasing, flirting and sometimes even catcalling your friends. What could you say? You loved embarrassing and complimenting them, it was just the perfect means.

"Yes, friendly banter. Not everyone is smoking hot like you to be able to flirt and be taken seriously, you know," you arched an eyebrow and she threw a napkin at you.

"You're impossible!" she kissed you on the cheek before returning to the kitchen for more goods.

Half an hour had passed and the woman's date still hadn't arrived. You pondered going back there and offering something again, but you imagined she'd feel uncomfortable with you noticing she was possibly being stood up. Your bones hurt with the want to go strike up a conversation and distract her from the douchebag that was making her wait, but at the same time, your heart raced in panic at the thought of talking to her.

It was some time since you'd had a crush on a person. Even being a hopeless romantic, you didn't have many opportunities to find anyone attractive in your day-to-day life. You lived close to the campus, so taking the subway to work wasn't necessary. You spent your day at the coffee shop and it always felt like breaching an unspoken rule to fancy a client (even though you admitted some were very aesthetically pleasing), and all your friends were spoken for and their friends were usually on college so a few years younger and that didn't do it for you. So it was very curious to finally feel it again, and for a client to make matters worse.

"Ok, stop ogling her, you'll bore a hole on her neck like this" Maggy mused, bringing the rest of the pastries.

You let out a defeated breath. "You're right, I have work to do and no time for this kind of thing."

"Woah there, you seem to have thought a lot of things in the five minutes it took me to get back, huh?"

You did, and she might not have the knowledge of what went on in your head, but you knew she understood your conclusion. How did she come to know you so well was beyond you, but you guessed five months of friendship and almost uninterrupted proximity did that.

"You know it's not for me." You shrugged and noting she was about to object you excused yourself saying you'd get more excelsa beans.

When your shift was close to end, the woman was still there. She wasn't waiting anymore, you noticed. She was idly taking notes on a small pad and listening to music. She didn't look too affected by the guy not showing up. Maybe she suspected it would happen, or it wasn't the first time, you didn't know but her nonchalance about it made your chest tighten.

Before you could change your mind, you chose one of the biggest triple chocolate ganache palm-sized cookies from the display case and prepared an iced vanilla latte to go. You put the two in a paper tray and fake-power-walked to her, willing yourself to feel the smallest amount of confidence. You were the chatty one of the group, why was it so difficult to act normal with her too?

"Hey, hello..." great start, "Ahem, my shift is almost ending and since I couldn't help you earlier with your order I thought I would bring this to you." You smiled and were almost sure you did ok.

Until she looked up from her notepad with shimmery eyes, and your smile fell. She had not been so nonchalant then.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do I have to order to stay here?" she seemed confused while looking between you and the tray you placed in front of her.

"No! No, I just thought you'd like something sweet," you were nervous like you haven't been for a long time, "I don't know... you just seemed like the type..."

"That likes sweets?" her small voice made sent shivers through your arms, she sounded so fragile, looking at your offer with something akin to wonder.

"Yes. Sorry. When you work here for a while you pick up on these things. If you don't though, I can take it back-"

"No!" she interrupted you, briskly circling a hand to your pulse when you made it to take the tray away and looked at you with a bewildered expression. "Sorry! I do like sweets." She let you go as rapidly as she touched you, chest flaring red, she avoided your eyes and cleared her throat. "Thank you, it is very nice of you," with that, she smiled, almost beamed, and you could only nod and get the hell away from her as fast as you could.

While desperately changing into your own clothes, you jumped at the sound of Dave entering the locker room.

"Shit, sorry!" he exclaimed, looking at you from head to toe. He was a quieter friend, but very perceptive, "So Maggy wasn't joking," he smiled.

"Please, not you too."

He laughed, "I won't tease you for being human. Everyone has a crush from time to time."

"Shut up! I don't have a crush." You finished tying your shoe. "And even if I do, she's probably straight or has a boyfriend."

"So you thought about it."

"SHUT UP!" you couldn't help but laugh and as you closed the back door to the alley you heard him laughing too.

You didn't pay too much mind to your thoughts of the beautiful stranger in the following days. She would likely never go back to the shop and if she did it would take a while and your attraction would have died down.

When she came not three days after, you cursed and ran to the kitchen.

"What are you doing, we need you outside," Maggy furrowed her brow softly.

"Could you please go there for a few minutes? I can finish icing," you pleaded, already taking the bag from her hand; she gave you a strange look but said fine.

Not a moment after she entered the kitchen again with a pleased smile. "Y/n you insufferably adorable idiot, go back out there and serve your customer!" she pointed at the door, and you made a show of slumping your shoulders and pouting while you made your way out front.

The woman was at the counter, she had a light frown, as if a bit confused with something, and startled when you said, "Good morning, how may I serve you?" in your best impression of a customer-service-friendly tone.

"Oh! Hi," she beamed at you, "Nice seeing you again!" Fuck she was gorgeous, "I would like the drink you gave me the other time, I really liked it."

You didn't know if the swell of pride in your ribcage was for being such a kick-ass barista or because of the happiness on her face from your accurate assumption.

"Coming right up!" you started making her drink, pleased with yourself, "Will you want anything to eat, as well?"

"No, if I do my co-workers will want it too," she chuckled and you got a to-go cup. When you handed it to her, she looked puzzled. "How did you know...?"

"The time," you filled in when she didn't elaborate, "Lots of people come before work and the ones that stay are usually students."

She hummed, eyebrows going up with a soft smile, "What about elders?" she handed you payment, exact change with an extra A$2,00 coin. Hot and a good tipper? This woman has no shame.

"We have only one couple and they come a bit later in the day," you smiled, accepting the money.

"Well, thank you then," she awkwardly lifted the cup and gave you one last, sheepish smile, before leaving.

You were so very screwed.

She kept coming. Day after day, she came in at the same hour and asked for the same drink. You offered some variations a few times, but she always went back to the first you made her. You stopped pretending you weren't smug for getting it so right.

Today was raining softly, autumn was settling in finally and cold afternoons were now a guarantee rather than a wish. You heard the doorbell and looked up to see Mina skipping to the counter with a scarf-hidden smile. Her nose was rosy as well as her cheeks which turned her eyes into thin joyful lines.

"Hey, lover! I missed you this weekend." She fake-pouted and you began making her usual.

"Sorry, I worked Dave's shift on Saturday and forgot to let you know."

"It's fine, but only if you go to the next one. If you don't, I'll stop being your friend!" she joked, sitting on one of the stools to watch you make her drink.

"Ok, dear 8-year-old cousin," she laughed and you changed topics to what movies they watched and how you regretted losing Toni's shock-filled eyes at New Moon's 'hot vampire royalty' as Mina said he put it. For someone who said they hated Twilight, you were happy for their growth.

After some more gossip, Mina grabbed her coffee and fled to class with a kiss on your cheek.

It was past mid-afternoon; your shift was slowly nearing its end and you were grateful for bringing an umbrella. It would probably be still raining when you got out.

When she walked through the door half an hour later, though, you wished you had more time. Her hair was a bit damp, and she had a sports jacket on. Maybe she left work around that hour because it was close to the one, she came to the shop the first time.

Try not to be a stalker, you weirdo, you thought to yourself while she approached.

"Hello there," she had her usual easy smile on. So beautiful.

"Hey, what will it be?" you could almost act normal now, the result of prolonged exposure, you assumed.

"You know," she shrugged, leaning on the counter lazily.

You started preparing her drink with a small smile and Maggy shook her head at you, rolling her eyes dramatically before leaving for the kitchen. She had nothing to do in there anymore.

"Tough day at work?"

"Oh, the usual. Paperwork mostly, it's been a while since there's been any excitement." She shrugged, but soon fixed her posture and shook her head frowning. "Not that I want anything to happen. If paperwork is the price, it's fine by me."

Curious comment. You didn't know what she did, you realized you didn't even know her name. You fantasized about leaning over the counter and kissing her silly but could not say who she was. How could it be that through an entire week, you hadn't even caught her name; usually it took you one conversation and the next you would set her up with someone from the shop. Of course, you weren't inclined to do that with her particularly, because of reasons.... but it was rather odd.

"Sorry, I don't think I ever asked your name," you turned to place her order on the counter, not on a to-go cup this time.

"Oh my god, that's true! I only know yours from your tag, it never crossed my mind I didn't have mine on!"

So her work requires wearing tags... Fuck, I'm a creep.

"I'm Miranda." She extended her hand for you to shake, it was just as soft as it looked. You imagined what being caressed by it would feel like... or a massage... or other things.

Shaking your head, you leaned to kiss her hand, rather than shake it. Out of your control, really. You simply could not lose the opportunity.

She looked to the floor, biting her smile. You could not see the red in her chest this time, but her ears were blazing.

"I'll just-" she took the cup, looking at you and rapidly away again, "Thank you. I'll go sit now." You only nodded, amused and slightly euphoric but trying to keep it down, as you saw her go.

She sat on one of the front window tables, leaning on her elbow and pointedly looking at the rain.

Two days passed after that. It was almost the end of the month, and you didn't even find another potential couple to help. You were too busy daydreaming on the job to pay attention to the customers. Maggy would lose her bet, the poor baby.

It was the middle of your shift, so it took you by surprise when you saw the blond owner of your thoughts walking in.

“Hey!” Miranda approached the counter, her smile making quick work of warming your whole being. She was the best part of your day no matter what happened. You thought seeing her smile at you was worth more than winning the lottery. You could live without the money any day.

“Hello, there,” you smiled back, with your usual cheekiness. “Your usual, I presume?” You were almost beginning her latte when she interrupted you.

“No! No, today I’ll be having a cold brew and an espresso. Robin needs her caffeine.” At that, she pointed at a brunette walking slowly in. She looked waspish and you could easily believe she was one of those people who were very grumpy before their first cup of coffee. “I’m her partner,” she leant over the counter and whispered to you like it was an exciting secret. She looked so proud you felt nauseous.

So she had a partner; a week after being stood up. It was understandable, she was a smoke show, funny and adorable all at once. How could she not have a mile-long line of people waiting for a chance? It still disappointed you that you weren’t the choice.

“Do you want me to grind?” you asked, absentmindedly leaning down to search for the good beans. At the silence, you turned to see her. She was turning red very fast, then you realised what you said and almost dropped the bean’s package on the floor, “The beans! Do you want me to grind the beans? You know… so the shots are nice and fresh.” Jesus, good one.

“Yes…” she gazed at the floor for a second and shook her head before looking back at you. “Sorry, I was just distracted… by stuff…" she pressed her lips in a thin line and looked in any other direction than yours. “I’ll just- I’ll just sit there.”

And off she was.

“Could you be less of a flirt? Not everyone can pull girls like a magnet and it’s offensive,” your co-worker’s voice woke you from your trance. Maggy was coming with a tray of fresh cakes.

“Shut up… it was her.” You tried to recompose yourself, your week’s worth of daydreams turning sour as you saw her walk to the back table where her “partner” was. Miranda liked the front window, why did that woman seat in the only corner with no view of the street and the farthest possible from the door?

“Ooh, so you’re finally admitting it.” She began to arrange the sweets in flower-like patterns on the display case, still smiling to herself.

“You only listened to my screw-up. She has a girlfriend,” you didn’t mean to sound so snippy, but you felt angry tears forming in your eyes and couldn’t stop tapping your left foot faster and faster.

Maggy noticed it in your tense posture and tight face, and before you knew it she was shoving you into the kitchen and asking Dave to cover outside.

Incredible. Just magnificent. She had a girlfriend, because of course she did, and you foolishly invested time and hope planning to ask her out and imagining all the stupid little dates you wanted to take her to and all the stupid little things you would do to make her smile. Great.

“Hey, come here…” Mag’s voice was no more than a whisper, bringing you to her chest while you very pointedly didn’t cry.

Your chest was rising and falling erratically with your half-swallowed sobs and your face hurt from all the muscles you strained to keep from letting it all out.

Maggy knew you wouldn’t cry. You were too stubborn for that, too chagrined with yourself to allow release. After less than a minute, you pushed yourself out of her arms, face sullen and voice hoarse.

“They ordered a cold brew and an expresso. I feel suddenly sick, can I go home?” you didn’t feel sick, she knew it too, but she only said:

“Yeah… yeah, I’ll cover for you.”

You nodded, never meeting her eyes, perpetually looking at the ground as you walked to the staff changing rooms and then home.

While walking home that afternoon, you caught the rain. You’d seen the weather report, but you left in such a hurry that you forgot your umbrella and didn't feel like going back to get it.

You got actually sick. The next morning you woke up sweating, feeling every muscle in your body hurting. It was nine, so you were already late. You called your boss to tell him you had a fever and he said Mag had already told him you didn’t feel very well the day before. He gave you the weekend off and ended with a kind “get better soon”; he was a nice boss.

You spent said weekend in bed. When you felt less horrible you took a shower and changed the sheets, prepared some soup and ate on the sofa while watching the news.

Apparently, there was a gang targeting young girls from the university near the Rainbow. All the police could tell at the moment was that they were being abducted after hours when leaving the campus for a night out. What they did to them after was a mystery you felt like throwing up just thinking about. You texted Mina to know if the group was safe; they were, but also very scared.

“The police detective in charge of the case, Robin Griffin, couldn’t disclose any more information,” the anchor’s voice sounded while a picture of a sulking brunette appeared on your screen.

It was her: Miranda’s partner. A police detective of all things.

Of course, Miranda would date some mysterious, grumpy detective that fought for the innocent and had a secret soft side she never showed anyone except for Miranda. It was the perfect ray of sunshine/rainy cloud couple half of the young adult fantasies had.

You wondered what Miranda did for work. You shouldn't be thinking about her, but you couldn't help it. All you knew was that she used a tag, and that didn't reduce your options all that much. You had to get her out of your brain.

After finishing eating and taking another shower, you went to bed early to get some healthy twelve hours of sleep before returning to work. With any luck, Miranda wouldn't come so soon.

You weren't very lucky, as proven by the relationship status of the person you madly wanted.

Miranda came again the next morning, accompanied by her detective girlfriend, Robin Griffin.

"Morning!" she was cherry as all the other times she greeted you but now it caused you physical pain to see her smile and attribute her happiness to the sulking jackass at the back booth.

Maybe you were being too harsh if Miranda was dating the woman she had probably a reason but you chose to ignore it as an outlet for all your negative thoughts and feelings.

"Good morning, how may I serve you today?" you said in a practised monotone, customer smile on your face.

A little line formed between her eyebrows and your fingers itched to smooth it away.

"Hum, I'll accept a suggestion today." she observed herself drum her fingers on the counter, "And Robin wants a cold brew again."

You nodded, starting with a white chocolate mocha and ignoring the figure leaning her weight on the counter.

"You can grind-" you heard her start and stop for a few seconds, "the beans for Robin's, she never commented on coffee before but last time you made it she said it was really good."

"Last time I made it?" you cursed your curiosity, "Someone else made you two coffee?"

Technically, the only time you made coffee for them you only started the grinder and fled, so Maggy was the one to finish it.

"Yeah... we came on Saturday to straighten some things. I like the atmosphere here and Robin didn't mind coming again."

Straighten some things? Were they having fights? None of your business in any case but... were they? You only hummed in response.

You placed her drink on the counter and started the second. Noticing you wouldn't start talking again, Miranda cleared her throat and looked to the side. Why couldn't she look you in the face today? It was normal for her to blush and avert her eyes sometimes when you talked but she seemed incapable of keeping eye contact for five seconds today.

"I like your shirt," she commented, out of nowhere.

"It's my uniform? But thanks?" what in the seven hells?

You finished the second drink and thanked whoever listening for her silent departure. Her awkward nod still made your chest constrict though.

This time there was no Maggy to witness your suffering, instead, it was Dave who was bringing the new arrivals and decided to lean against the door and watch.

"Shut up," you breathed as soon as you saw his smirk.

"I didn't say anything."

"But you were thinking."

"Oh, come on, she was obviously flirting with you!" you hated that you agreed with him, it felt like flirting — hesitant and weird but flirting.

"Her girlfriend is sitting right there, she was not flirting with me just five meters away from her," if you said it out loud one more time maybe you could convince yourself.

"Well, or she's very clueless, or devilishly smart." He shrugged and started putting away some gourmet-looking packages underneath the counter.

Later that day you were still thinking of Miranda's strange behaviour. Dave wasn't one for gossip, but this time he opted to completely ignore that and conspire with Maggy about what were Miranda's intentions with you, quite loudly, just a few feet away. They were insufferable sometimes.

After a few hours of little giggles and middle school singsongs, you mistrusted the sudden silence. Dave, oddly enough, was cleaning the expresso machine serenely while Mag was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did Maggy go?" you asked, walking to the kitchen door and peering through the circle window. She was on her back having a phone call.

"Her boyfriend called, don't know what's about but she looked strange when she came in."

A few moments after, Maggy slowly opened the door and peeked from it, "Y/n, can I talk to you for a sec?" she asked, an uncertain tinge in her voice.

"Sure..." you followed her in.

Once inside, you heard her let out a long breath, "Ok, so I know I only covered for you days ago and that it sounds opportunistic as shit, but could you cover the end shift for me? Markus had an accident playing basketball and needs me to get him at the hospital" her tortured face was the cherry on top of your hellish day.

"Of course, I'll cover for you! What happened?"

"He fractured his ankle, that's why I need to get him; he probably won't be able to walk around the house very well too."

"You're fine, go get him. I don't have anything better to do anyway, bug." You kissed her cheek and rushed her into the staff rooms.

Closing wasn't so bad. Today was raining again but you had your umbrella and wouldn't forget it this time. After swiping the floor and checking the kitchen for stoves on and the like, you closed everything and went home.

Every day it got darker and darker around this time. You didn't notice before because you usually were at home, but now you wished you had charged your phone for some extra light. The rain was thick, and you couldn't even hear your steps. The umbrella didn't do much to shield your legs, which were drenched up to the knees.

After a few blocks, the streetlights got dimmer, the shops and public spaces being substituted by tall apartment buildings. You decided to hurry a bit and ignore the shiver on the back of your neck; soon you would reach home.

Well, not really. You felt before you saw the group of four people nearing you. When you thought of sprinting, one of them caught up to you and held you back with strong arms around your middle and one hand covering your mouth. You trashed, trying to free yourself, but they only shushed you sounding amused. The other three joined and they led you to one of the corridors between brick buildings. You couldn't see a thing, only feel rough fingers in your face and the prickly feeling of days-old facial hair on your ear as a hoarse voice breathed on your ear.

"Be a good girl and stay quiet. It'll be a lot less painful for you."

You felt overwhelmed by panic, gagging in bile and trembling like a baby dear. You didn't know where the strength came from, but you freed your face desperately and screamed your lungs out for help. You didn't know if anyone would listen with the rain, you could barely hear yourself, but it could have something to do with the buzzing on your ears muffling all sound around you.

You stepped on his feet, kicked him and bit his arm but he wouldn't budge. He managed to put his hand over your mouth again, but you bit it until you heard him scream and tasted iron in your mouth. However, that only made him hold you tighter, hurting your ribcage, and the rest of the group came to aid him.

What they did was each try to get you under control, which meant none had a full grip on you, and throwing yourself against one worked for you to start running for your life in the direction of the streetlights. You didn't know if your screams were intelligible of even if they were loud enough to be screams, you couldn't hear, had no frame of reference.

You thought you saw the lights of a car turning the corner, but you didn't have the time to see. The same guy who had you before was jumping at you, crashing you against the asphalt with his body weight. You felt your skin burn. Arms and face glued to the street with the impact. Your head was ringing, and you only saw spots of light and unfocused shouting and around you, a very loud noise was the last thing you heard before it was all black.

You woke up feeling warm. There were quiet noises of clicking porcelain and muffled conversation to your left.

The sterile smell was what hinted at where you were, opening your eyes to bright white ceilings and empty beds around you. You were the only one in the room apart from the three people around the door.

Miranda, her girlfriend and a nurse. Oddly enough, Miranda was dressed as a police officer. What she was doing there you had no idea, in fact, you didn't even know why you were there.

You tried to sit, and all three looked at you. The nurse came over quickly and fussed around you, helping you sit, and asking how you felt. You didn't feel too bad, but there were some friction burns on your elbows and forearms that you could do without. Mostly it was just your head buzzing faintly.

"She said you might have a concussion," Miranda joined in, timidly placing her hand over one of yours resting beside you in the bed. You turned it so she could hold it if she wanted. You felt a pang when she did.

"The detective asked if you would be willing to answer some questions. I told her you might not be feeling well enough right now, but if you do I can tell her so." The nurse didn't seem too pleased talking about 'the detective', which reminded you of the movie hospital staff and made you smile.

"I don't know how much use I'd be," your voice was croaky as you looked from the nurse to Miranda, "I don't really know why I'm here."

She understood the question you didn't make and asked the nurse if she could talk with you alone. She seemed only partially agreeable but left anyway.

"You were attacked last night near the university," she said immediately, even if trying to sound softer, and her hand tighten around yours. "Why were you even out at that time in the rain?"

"I don't know... I worked the end shift?" you remembered Maggy asking you to and remembered closing and going out in the rain. Not much more than that.

"You were so lucky we decided to patrol the area, Jesus Christ," she was talking faster than normal, and you furrowed your brows, "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"Why are you here? You aren't asking me any questions..." your head hurt too much to think at that moment. You just wanted some peace and not to have to stare at Miranda's face because your head and arms were enough things hurting.

"What? Because I care about you! Because I saw what those sick men were trying to do and I know how it'd end-" she choked in her hurried whisper. Was she about to cry? "You have no idea the terror I felt when I realized it was you the one on the floor. You weren't responding and all I could do was scream at Robin who somehow arrested three men on her own and still managed to call an ambulance."

Wow, there really was a reason Miranda dated her, then.

You felt exhausted all of a sudden. Emotionally and physically, you just needed some sleep and a hug and you leaned against Miranda for just that.

She took you in her arms, surprised but seemingly not against it. You sighed and swallowed the knot in your throat. It didn't help much. Why did you have to like her so much? Why was she so kind and caring even after knowing you for only two weeks? It was so unfair she was taken, the one person with whom you could envision making it work.

When you parted, Miranda still had her arms around you. She was searching for something on your face, staring earnestly into your eyes as if willing you to understand her. You could not for the life of you understand anything about that woman anymore. Here she was, holding you and comforting you after flirting with you at your place of work. Sending you all these mixed signals and expecting you not to fall for them.

She looked almost frustrated with your lack of understanding, then her eyes snapped to your lips for one second then looked back at you; brows furrowed and eyes pleading. Why did this have to be so complicated? You matched her look, gazing wantonly at her lips, just to torture yourself at not meeting them.

However, at your lack of action and obvious wish, Miranda made the decision and leaned in. You weren't expecting it, suddenly woke from your daydream to a very real pressure on your lips. She had strawberry lip balm on and tasted of tea. Hospital tea, the ones at the reception for people staying the night. She smelled of nothing other than her, no soap or sweat or anything, just her after a long night and possibly long morning of dealing with whatever resulted from the last night's occurrence. She felt like home, her arms around you bringing you close delicately, the pressing of her lips long and slow as if she was trying to convey this ineffable thing you couldn't understand when she looked at you. It was beautiful and sweet and so painful you had to stop.

"But what about Robin?" you whispered against her lips.

"What about Robin?"

"I'm so confused, aren't you dating Robin? Your detective 'partner'?" and as you said it, everything clicked together "Oh, no-" You hid your face in Miranda's chest, feeling silly for all the bitterness and jealousy you indulged for the last week, but also hating yourself for all the unnecessary heartache. "You and Robin are partners, as in you work together on cases, correct?"

"Yes... I thought that was rather obvious..." Her arms tightened around you and she made soothing circles between your shoulders. "I think we even discussed the case in the coffee shop. I thought you heard us."

"I might have misunderstood," your voice was muffled by your face pressed onto her uncomfortable, bumpy, vest. You heard her chuckle, and she took a step back, with her index under your chin prompting you to look at her. She had a mischievous grin and an arched brow.

"Did you think we were together?" you only nodded, "And were you jealous?" at that, her grin went from mischievous to an earnest, excited smile. She was too pure for this world.

You didn't respond, only looked to the side screwing your face up to avoid the relieved smile.

"No, c'mon, I want to hear it," her voice carried a note of amusement, but she only looked kind when tilting your face to look at her again.

"I might have..." she huffed a small laugh "No! Shut up! Listen-" you could not control your smile at her looking so delighted "It's your fault that you were so adorable that first day and accepted my coffee like it was the best thing ever! It was just coffee and a cookie, and you looked unreasonably happy! And after that you kept coming and coming more frequently to my god-blessed queer café and flirting and looking shy and beautiful, what did you expect me to feel? Are you kidding me? This was all your fault, you menace! So, of course, I was jealous when you appeared with a dark and mysterious stranger and sat in the most private corner possible to whisper to each other like teenagers thinking they’re being subtle!"

"Ok, I realize you are very passionate about this," she laughed softly, bringing you to a hug again. "But you forgot that you were flirting mercilessly with me and that I never asked you to stop." She had a point, but again there were people who liked being flirted with, even when they were in relationships. You didn't think Miranda was like that, though.

"I know, but I'm allowed to be a bit irrational about this..." your volume decreased as you finished the sentence.

"You're pouting," she whispered to match you, "Why?"

Taking a deep breath, you locked eyes with her. Here goes nothing. "Because you're my coffee shop romance," you said trying to sound confident. At her lack of response for more than five seconds, you backtracked, "That is if you'd like to be. I shouldn't have assumed, you-"

"Jesus, shut up-" she said and smashed your lips together.

The kiss wasn't too dextrous, both of you smiling too much and too eager for it to work properly, but it was the best thing in the world.

"Not Jesus, but I'll let it pass this time," you murmured against her lip when you slowed down. She was peppering chaste, slightly long kisses on your lips and face.

"Shut up," you heard her smile before feeling it in your skin.

"You'll have to make me," you breathed back.

Decided to put notes at the end. I posted this one here because of the ask, but I hope you liked it and that I lived up to your expectations! I had a lot of fun writing this one, so thank you so much and sorry for the long post 💛

#miranda hilmarson #miranda hilmarson x reader #fluff #coffee shops & cafés #coffee shop au #top of the lake #gwendoline christie

[obitohno]

pillow talk

hanma shuji x reader

synopsis ⤸

after vowing to loathe hanma for as long as you live, you somehow end up tangled in his bedsheets.

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption, one night stand, hate sex, sex with feelings, breeding kink, creampies, oral sex, doggy-style, cowgirl, rough sex, unrequited love, one sided love, angst (if you squint), hanma has feelings, mitsuya is your best friend

word count ⤸

7.2k (unedited)

a/n ⤸

so, when i posted a sample of this, some of you were kind enough to say that you liked it enough for me to continue the story. n so, i wrote more, n some more, n then, even more, n now it’s over 7k words, oops. it’s longer than i originally planned it to be, but it’s probably my new favourite out of all of the fics that i’ve written (so far), which may or may not be heavily influenced by the fact that it’s about hanma, hhh. it’s three am here, so i’m definitely not editing today, but i’ll get around to it one day. pls enjoy the full fic, n thank you to those who encouraged me to finish this ♡

reblogs are appreciated ~

there are many emotions that you can associate with each time the fates decide to test your misfortunate knack of bumping into hanma shuji, but happiness isn’t one of them. and unfortunately for you, today is yet another of those days.

you’ve never been able to pinpoint the exact reason why the mere sight of his face is enough to irate you, nor are you able to explain why just an utterance of his name influences the instinctive reflex to roll your eyes before you’re able to stop it from happening. most of the time, you like to think of yourself as the better person, but there comes a time when one must simply accept that they are not above disliking someone enough to sneak into the office kitchen to swap the salt with the sugar just to see their arch nemesis grimace into their morning cup of coffee during the weekly team meeting. and there must also come a time when one will be humbled, embarrassed, or suffer at the hands of karma, no matter how much it may sacrifice the reputation of your own ego. or his, for that matter. 

and today is that day. 

you don’t notice anything unusual when you first wake, refusing to open your eyes when you regain enough wit about yourself to recognise the heat of this morning’s sun burning into your right cheek. your left is pressed into the pillow beneath your head, your limbs splayed in all directions under the bedsheets. you can feel a tendril of hair tickling your forehead with each upward breath that is puffed from between your lips, which, with one flick of your tongue, feel dry due to lack of hydration. it is with this discomfort that your eyes finally blink open with great effort, lids drooping with exhaustion. for a long, blissful moment, you’re not conscious enough to recognise that this, in fact, is not your bed. nor is it your bedroom, either. 

that long, blissful moment continues as you move to stifle a yawn with the back of your hand, eyes blinking to regain some sort of coherency. only then, do you realise that your prone form is tangled in a mess of grey, silken bedsheets that do not belong to you. instantly, your spine stiffens, rigid with the brief flicker of anxiousness that has rendered you frozen. this pause stretches for far longer than what is probably deemed necessary, and before you take a proper look around you, you’re throwing the sheets back and stumbling from the ridiculously comfortable mattress, almost tripping over your own feet in your panic. there’s a bedside table that looks to be carved from an expensive oak—the sight of which makes your nose turn up—but nonetheless, it is what you reach out for when your ankle rolls painfully and you stifle a yelp by pushing your top row of teeth into the plush cushioning of your bottom lip. only, it seems that it’s unnecessary for you to catch your balance on the bedside table, but at that exact moment, the other occupant of the room reaches out and curls their fingers around your wrist in order to steady your balance. 

this time, you do scream; a stressed noise that even makes you wince, and you yank your wrist free whilst simultaneously losing said balance and landing hard on the ground. the impact forces a shocked grunt from your mouth, but you’re not focused on that, because you’ve now realised that you’ve awoken—as naked as the day you were born—in the bed of someone you do not know. 

except, the fates decide to prove you wrong, because the stranger breaks the silence, speaking in a low baritone that has served nothing but to aggravate you in every single possible way for the past decade. 

‘what you doin’ down there?’ 

and then, a shock of dark hair—mixed with bleached strands of golden-yellow—appears within your line of sight as he peers over the edge of the mattress to eye your sprawled form on the floor. heavily lidded eyes dance across your naked skin, but you’re too busy gawking at him in horror to recognise the flicker of arousal that passes over his features. when your jaw finally has the mind to stop hanging open, it snaps shut and your brows lower, pulling together as you glower up at him, thrusting an accusatory index finger in his face. 

‘you!’ 

and he, in typical hanma fashion, smirks. mockingly, he raises his own hand to point at his own bare chest, his other palm occupied by the weight of his head as he leans on it, appearing very comfortable with looking down at you. ‘me?’ he drawls, smirk widening when you finally recognise that you’re not wearing any clothes, and you rush to sit up, hands scrambling to grip the bedsheets and yank them from the bed in a desperate attempt to hide your nakedness from his greedy eyes. in doing so, though, you’d failed to think of the possibility that he’d be just as naked as you are, and your cheeks are lit aflame upon the sight of his cock, semi-hard against the crook of his thigh, nestled amongst a neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair. he isn’t nearly as embarrassed as you are—in fact, he only seems to be amused at your current predicament—and he simply lazes across the bare mattress, the corners of his eyes stretching slightly as he grins wide enough to bare his teeth at you. the sight makes your stomach twist with something that isn’t quite like disgust, but you promptly ignore it in favour of glaring at his stupid, smug face instead. 

‘y-you!’ you splutter again, recognising the burning feeling of anger quickly settling in the centre of your chest. your voice is shrill as you demand, ‘what the hell are you doing here!?’ 

he looks at you pointedly, a single, black eyebrow quirking up toward his hairline, ‘i live here?’

you have nothing to say to that, so instead, you redirect your anger toward the very obvious elephant in the room—how in the hells did you end up in his room? his bed? when you voice these questions aloud, you watch his eyebrows pinch together in what you can only describe as thinly veiled annoyance. 

‘what? you don’t remember?’ 

he sounds angrier than you’d expected, but it only fuels your own irritation, an emotion that isn’t foreign to you, especially when it concerns him. ‘obviously not,’ you snap at him, eyes wandering over the expanse of his thighs, all the way down to his ankles. you follow the lines and curves of his muscles as he pushes himself upright, eyes narrowing down at you. 

it’s no secret that the two of you don’t get along. you’d immediately taken to disliking him when you first met as teenagers, and it appeared that he’d felt the same. then, you’d graduated from university, and you had made the mistake of thinking that you had finally escaped from seeing his insufferable face every damned day, only to have the misfortune of accepting a secretarial role at one of the largest law firms in the country, and being introduced to the senior partner, hanma-fucking-shuji, on the very first day. and, much like in his teenage years, hanma had made sure to live up to his infuriating nickname—the reaper—and has continued to make your life a living hell ever since. 

and, of course, he hasn’t earned the role of senior partner for no reason. last night had been the celebration of yet another big win added to hanma’s ever growing repertoire, and this time, it had been the much awaited end to a very public murder trial that had stretched on for far too long, in your opinion. and despite the fact that you’d dramatically announced that you’d rather die than celebrate anything associated with the most insufferable man on the planet, it was kokonoi and mitsuya who had dragged you along anyway. you’d been tucked away in the corner, sitting on the plush velvet seat that had looked like it had cost more than your monthly rent, and when mitsuya had politely suggested that you at least fake a smile every once in a while, instead, you had grumbled every curse under the sun. 

after that, you don’t remember a thing. 

so, for reasons unimaginable to you—because, really, you had no idea as to why you would subject yourself any sort of company with him of all people—you’re now sat on hanma’s bedroom floor, wrapped in a thin, silken bedsheet that looks as obnoxious as his face does, absolutely mind boggled as to how you ended up in this situation. 

you must have really pissed someone off in a past life. 

begrudgingly, you meet hanma’s gaze, and in a voice so minute that he has to strain to hear you, you dare to ask, ‘uh…? did we—?’ you motion a hand between the two of you, and if possible, his frown deepens. 

he leans closer to the edge of the bed, golden orbs staring down at you, hard. ‘you really don���t remember?’ you shrug, nose crinkling into a grimace. he pauses, gaze distant as if he’s seeing right through you, and then he scoffs out a, ‘huh.’ then, instead of answering you, he rises from the bed and steps over you to make his way over to the built in wardrobe that dominates the opposing wall. he doesn’t answer your question, but with the alarming lack of clothing involved throughout this entire exchange, and with the familiar ache that is nestled deep into the muscles of your thighs when you shift your legs, you already know the answer. dread spreads across your entire chest, and you belatedly think to yourself: what the fuck have i done? 

hanma? of all people? hanma-fucking-shuji? how, and most importantly, why? why can’t you remember a thing from last night—surely you hadn’t drank that much? and why in the hells didn’t you go home with mitsuya, as you’d promised to earlier that night? at this thought, you frown, and you wonder if mitsuya even knows where you are. the thought of him panicking upon your disappearance makes your stomach fill with nauseating guilt, strands of hair gluing themselves to back of your neck that seems to get clammier and clammier with each passing second. your eyes skip across the vastly large room, searching for your handbag, which you hope that you’d had enough sense to bring with you, and your shoulders sag with relief when you spot it, dumped at the foot of the bed. however, before you’re able to make a beeline toward it, you’re distracted by hanma flinging one of the wardrobe doors open, and he looks at you from over the crook of his shoulder as if he hasn’t just flashed you an eyeful of his bollocks swinging between his legs, his expression touching upon an eerie shade of cold, ‘you should leave. wouldn’t want you to get caught with the reaper, now, would we?’ 

you don’t hesitate to do as he says. scrambling to find your clothes laying in a crumpled pile next to your handbag, you hurriedly pull the crinkled fabric of your work dress over your head, chucking your bra and stockings into the handbag and feet rushing you toward the bedroom door. you feel his eyes watching you from his spot by the wardrobe, your cheeks heating upon the realisation that he is yet to dress himself. 

pausing by the door with your handbag haphazardly thrown over your shoulder, you loiter, pointedly refusing to look at his naked form as you mumble a very hesitant thanks. you may be mortified that it was him, of all people, that you chose to have a one night stand with—albeit one that you cannot remember—but you also can’t deny that it was also him that made sure you had somewhere safe to stay for the night. he could’ve easily kicked you out after having his way with you, and yet, for a reason far beyond your capabilities to think about right now, he let you stay within the comfort of his bed, which, you are loathe to admit that it is, in fact, a very comfortable bed. 

in response, he echoes your thanks with a laugh that sounds anything but genuine. he jabs a thumb in the direction of the door, and orders, ‘i’ve got shit to do. fuck off.’ 

shame and irritation immediately boil your blood, and you have half a mind to give him the ear-thrashing that he has had coming for a long time, but right now, you’d love nothing more than to rid yourself of his presence, and so you turn away, yanking on the door handle and shuffling out into the hallway. you don’t look back to realise that he’s still staring after you. 

you find your heels thrown on the floor by the entrance door, and you ignore the churning of your stomach when you retrieve one of them from its place on top of his evidently expensive pair of brogues. said heels are shoved onto your feet and as fast as your newly forming headache will allow, you leave the apartment, door slamming shut behind you. 

once you’re waiting inside the elevator, you use the time to travel down six floors to straighten your clothes in a bid to make it look like that you’re not currently performing the walk of shame. and once you make it past a very awkward smile shared with the receptionist at the front desk, you’re out onto the street, one hand smoothing down the messy tendrils of hair that billow in the morning breeze, the other, dialling mitsuya’s phone number. the phone doesn’t even manage to ring twice when he picks up with an immediate urgency, and you are made aware that he’s been trying to call you all fucking night, where the hell have you been?! five minutes later and he’s still spewing on about how close he was to calling the police and reporting you missing, but as much as you love him for loving you enough to be this worried about you, you have far more pressing news to share. 

‘’suya,’ you interrupt his angry ramble, pressing the button at the traffic lights as you await the signal to cross. ‘you’ll never guess what’s just happened—’

and for the next twenty minutes, you inform him of the circumstances of your whereabouts. by the time you finish, you’re already halfway through your journey home. 

‘no fucking way,’ mitsuya blurts in a way that is very un-mitsuya-like.

he then proceeds to tell you that after sulking in the corner of the booth for majority of the party, you’d suffered an uncharacteristic bout of alcoholism, and had drank so much that both mitsuya and kokonoi had caught you—still somehow standing upright—sneaking off to the bathroom to vomit. however, after you’d fallen over for the third time, kokonoi had made the decision to send you home via taxi. you’d stepped outside to clear your head, and mitsuya, the gentleman that he is, had accompanied you as you’d sat on the curb with your head pressed between your knees. his role, surprisingly, had been replaced by none other than hanma-fucking-shuji, who had stepped out for a cigarette and had offered to watch you whilst mitsuya went back inside to say his goodbyes. but when he returned, neither you nor hanma were in sight. 

‘i really thought this was gonna be like one of those documentaries where i’d keeping waiting for you to come home, but instead, the police find you dead in some dude’s bin,’ he says quietly down the phone, and despite the need to tell him that his imagination couldn’t be any more far-fetched, you feel the familiar burn when your eyes prickle with fresh tears. you swallow down the lump that forms in the back of your throat, mumbling a soft apology into the microphone, which he laughs off, voice shaking as he says, ‘it’s about time, anyway.’ 

your lips part, ready to question what he means by that, the wind picks up and billows the skirt of your dress around your thighs, and because of this, the air blows into a place where you really shouldn’t be able to feel the wind. this is when you are suddenly hit with the horrifying realisation that in your earlier panic, there is one item that you had failed to retrieve from hanma’s apartment. 

your underwear. 

卍

it wouldn’t be until three weeks have passed before you next encounter hanma. 

for exactly sixteen days, and counting, you do your upmost to avoid bumping into the ‘absolute beanpole-freak of a man’ as baji had once summarised hanma’s stature when he’d decided to join in on your rant to kokonoi after overhearing you whilst passing by in the hallway. 

the entire office is aware of the mutual rivalry between the two of you, which explains why most of them are baffled as to why you’ve suddenly halted your efforts to slander hanma’s name at every given opportunity, and have instead resorted to either paling by a few shades or stammering a lame excuse—which usually consists of very little coherency—and making a swift exit from the conversation. it was only after chifuyu had reported to the group that you’d said that you had to leave early because your pet cat was having a tooth removed, that kokonoi had later called that evening to tell you to ‘get your shit together’. 

you don’t even own a pet cat, for fuck’s sake. 

if you’re being completely honest, you’re surprised that you’ve managed to avoid him for this long. usually, you arrive at the office long before it opens to the public, which, unfortunately for you, is also the exactly time that hanma likes to arrive, usually wasting most of his free time to annoy you by interfering with your daily routine. once, after a particularly bitter argument in front of the entire office body—caused by him ‘accidentally’ tripping over and spilling freshly brewed coffee all over your work tablet—he’d spent the remainder of the day sporting a very large, bright red sore after you’d retaliated by throwing the desktop mouse straight at his ‘stupid fucking face’.

he’d thrown in an empty threat (or two) to have charges pressed against you, before retracting it when your eyes had glistened an interesting shade of pink, all with a smug grin plastered to that stupid fucking face of his. 

but this week, you’ve resorted to travelling to work with baji and nahoya, who, by almost everyone’s standards, are late to work everyday. 

it’s far from ideal to arrive to work after the clock reads past nine am, but you’d rather be reprimanded for tardiness than to risk the alternative. 

but it seems that a few of your coworkers are becoming a tad concerned by your behaviour, as on the seventeenth day, you are called into your manager’s office. at first, you fear that you really are in trouble, but those anxieties are quickly quashed when he asks if you’re faring well. it is only after that you repeatedly insist that yes, you are fine, and thank you, but no, there’s no need for him to lighten your workload because you promise that you are not stressed, and yes, you’ll tell him if you need any assistance, and sorry, but you don’t know what’s on the lunch menu for wednesday, does he finally allow you to leave. after this, you do your best to act as normal as possible, but you clearly fail in doing so, because this only results in another call back to your manager’s office the very next day. 

in the end, you throw yourself into your work, hoping that it’ll serve as a much needed distraction. it works for the majority of days eighteen, nineteen and twenty, but when you breach the third week, that is when your luck runs out. 

you’ve stayed late to finish up some notes that haven’t yet been submitted, but when you need to use the printer, you are frustrated to find that it won’t switch on, despite checking all of the nearby plug socks, and pressing every damn button on the blasted machine. after fighting with the printer for a good fifteen minutes, eventually, you huff a curse under your breath and decide to leave to use the machine on the floor above you, but not without delivering a swift kick to the base on your way. 

this late in the evening, the building is quiet—too quiet—and it’s almost a little eerie as you click, clack your way over to the elevator. there are probably only a few other stragglers within the entire building, so it doesn’t take long before the doors are sliding open to allow you inside. you reach the upper floor within seconds, which you could’ve easily made on foot, but you’re feeling far too lazy for that. once you locate the printer, you set to work on making sure that everything is switched on correctly. you’re balancing on the tips of your heels to reach the plug socket when, suddenly, there’s a large tattooed hand brushing the the curve of your waist, before it tightens to hold you in place. the other hand closes over your mouth to muffle the shriek that gets stuck in the back of your throat. pulse  hammering, your spine stiffens when there’s a warm weight that presses to the round of your behind, trapping you against the printer. 

a pair of lips ghost over the shell of your ear, ‘you’re avoidin’ me.’ 

you’d never have thought that you’d ever be relieved to hear hanma’s voice, but the second that you recognise him to not be a random stranger breaking into the office to have their way with you, your spine relaxes for a short moment before your relief quickly morphs into the shape of anger. enraged by his audacity to not only sneak through the office to catch you off guard, but it’s multiplied by the fact that he’s also dared to put his hands on you in a way that would look compromising to anyone who may walk past. you also despise the fact that after three weeks of working hard to avoid him, it’s all been undone with just one whisper into your ear. 

you glance down and recognise the black inking of the kanji for ‘punishment’. how fitting. 

despite the fact that he can’t see the look on your face, your eyes roll and before he sees it coming, you bend your right arm and elbow him as hard as your strength will allow. he grunts, hand falling from your face, but to your surprise, he maintains his hold on your waist, long fingers biting through the fabric of your blouse. the hand that displays the kanji for ‘sin’ traces up the length of your throat before it curls, index finger stroking along the length of your jugular. ‘behave,’ he murmurs, hot breath fanning the curve of your cheek as his lips follow, huffing a short laugh when you attempt to elbow him again. this time, he’s prepared and he doesn’t even flinch when the sharp edge of your elbow collides with his rib cage. instead, his fingers twitch against your neck, and he hums happily, ‘so fuckin’ sexy.’ he emphasises the last word with a nudge of his groin against your backside, accompanied with a phantom of a moan that you’d’ve missed if not for the fact that his lips are now pressed to your temple. 

his words only fuel your irritation, which only just masks the fact that the position he has you in is starting to affect you. not that you’re ever going to admit it aloud—especially not to him. 

‘fuck you,’ you spit at him from over your shoulder. 

he sneers down at you, humming as he shifts his hips, and you hate the fact that when you feel the hardened shape of his length grinding into your thigh, it encourages the heat that is slowly beginning to burn between your legs. ‘fuck me?’ he repeats, sin now sliding over your skin to grip the back of your neck, roughly shoving you forward so that your chest presses into the hard surface of the machine below you. there, he easily holds you in place with one hand, and he towers over you from behind, hips pressed flushed to your backside. ‘you’ve fucked me before,’ he hisses, punishment trailing a long index finger down the length of your spine, which, to your horror, instinctively arches to encourage his touch. you almost hope think that he’s going to grab at your ass, but instead, he croons mockingly into the shell of your ear, ‘or don’t you remember?’ 

you freeze under him, recognising the barely concealed fury that is laced between each syllable that leaves his mouth. 

so that’s what this is about. 

you don’t get to dwell on the subject of his bruised ego, because he’s grabbing at you once again, spinning you around until you’re both stood chest-to-chest. you barely have a second to crane your neck to glare up at him before he’s gripping your jaw and angling your head so that your neck stretches towards him. your hands fly to shove at his chest, to no avail, because he’s built like a brick wall, apparently. 

instead, you resort to simply slapping his hand away, ‘don’t fucking touch me.’ 

he’s silent as he glowers down at you through the lenses of his glasses, regarding your expression for just a few, short seconds, before he steps back. you dare not acknowledge the disappointment you feel at the loss of his warmth. just when his stare starts to feel a tad uncomfortable, he smooths a hand through his hair, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. he’s frowning, lips parting as if he has something that he wishes to say, before he clearly thinks the better of it as his mouth closes again. he nods once, whether to you or to himself, you’re not sure. 

‘fine,’ he says shortly. 

and then before you’re able to respond, he’s turning on his heel and disappearing down the hall. you stare, long after he’s walked out of your line of sight. the heat that’s built deep within your gut eventually simmers, but it takes longer that you care for, and it takes even longer for you to remember what you were doing on this floor in the first place. twenty minutes later, you’ve finished your work for the night and you’re just locking the office door before you make your way home, when one thought repeatedly circles through your mind: 

you forgot to ask for your underwear back. 

卍

somehow, it happens again. 

this time, you wake to a finger stroking over the curve of your cheek and tickling the baby hairs back from your forehead. the sensation makes you stir, brows pulling together as your eyes slowly peel open. exhausted, your eyelids are heavy, and it takes a few blinks to recognise that, once again, you’ve awoken in a bed that doesn’t belong to you. 

this time, however, your foggy mind is able to put together the blurred memories from the previous night: 

you’d attended a dinner with your colleagues, who’d later suggested continuing the night at the club down the road. it’d taken some convincing, but you’d agreed, only to immediately regret it because during the short walk down the road, you’d bumped into another office party who, by chance, were also making their way over to the very same club. you hadn’t recognised any of these people, except for the one golden-eyed man who had glanced at you once, twice, before turning his cheek and pretending that you weren’t there. that had been fine with you; two of you could play that game. 

except, this game didn’t last for very long. 

once the newly-extended party had reached the club, it hadn’t taken all of one hour before the two of you had engaged in a heated argument outside of the club, and in one moment, you were yelling every insult under the sun and in the next, he was backing you against the wall and shoving his tongue down your throat. 

a warm puff of breath is fanned across your face and your nose crinkles. 

not again, you want to cry aloud, but your words die on the tip of your tongue when you blink up to see a familiar pair of golden-coloured eyes already focused on you, apprehension pinching his brows together. you’re unable to stop yourself from sighing, eyes drifting to where the bedsheets pool at his bare waist. you don’t have to look under the fabric to know that you’re also not wearing any clothes. you decide that you lack the energy to start an argument this early in the morning, so instead, you simply lay there with your eyes closed. 

lying this close to him, you can hear each draw of breath into his nostrils and you feel each exhale blowing gently across the side of your face. it’s peaceful, despite the fact that you’re a little unnerved by his uncharacteristic quietude. but, all too soon, he breaks the silence by shifting next to you, and the mattress first dips, then raises as it eases without his weight. you listen to the bedroom door opening and swinging shut, and only then do your eyes peel open. you’re alone in the bedroom, and for a reason unknown to you, your heart hammers away in your chest. just like the last time, there’s an ache set deep within the muscles of your thighs, and you can’t stop your mind from drifting to recall the night before. you’re so deeply immersed into your thoughts that you almost miss the sound of his footsteps approaching the room. when he enters, the door hasn’t even fully closed before he’s burying himself back under the covers, the full length of his body pressing as close to you as possible. you have half the mind to shove him away, but you are betrayed by your own body, which welcomes the arm that snakes under your neck and pulls you closer. your right cheek is smushed into his shoulder, the rough impact making your teeth knock together. 

‘’m tired,’ he grumbles, low voice even deeper when thick with sleep. the sound vibrates across his chest and dances down your eardrum, your own breath tickling its way across his collarbone. in response to him, you hum a noncommittal noise. 

the fact that you’re cuddling up to the one man who you had sworn to hate for the rest of your life is one that makes your gut churn with the niggling feeling that this isn’t how things work between the two of you. the majority of the past decade has been spent fighting, shouting and cursing each other to hell and back, and although your life would be much easier without the stress that is hanma shuji, you also can’t deny that since you’d awoken in his bed all those weeks ago, it’s all you’ve thought about. he’s insufferable, yes, and on more than one occasion, you’ve loved nothing more than to slap away the smug smile that is perpetually glued to his face. but even you must admit that something has changed between the two of you. what, exactly, you cannot be sure, but you aren’t given the chance to question it, because the pads of his fingers are bumping under your chin and when you blink at him through sleep-laden eyelids, his gentle expression is one that you’d never thought him capable of. 

‘tired,’ he repeats, his own eyelids drooping as his gaze lowers to your mouth, ‘don’t wanna fight.’ 

and that’s when you realise that you’re tired too. 

it must’ve shown on your face because something flickers within those golden orbs of his, and then he’s tilting his head so that his lips ghost over yours. there’s a soft brush, before they press to yours properly, his fingers firming against your chin as he holds you in place. to your surprise, he kisses you lazily, very much unlike how he’d kissed you last night, and as much as you’d enjoyed what you’d received the night before, this kiss makes your toes curl. his tongue probes to caress yours, and although you probably taste of day-old alcohol and the stale flavour of sleep, he breathes a moan when you return his efforts. 

your skin is enveloped with the smell of him, the taste of him, the warmth of him, and it isn’t long before you begin to feel your pulse throbbing between your legs. his hand moves from your chin to stroke his thumb to the length of your neck, and you press closer, legs shifting beneath the bedsheets. as if sensing your hesitation, he encourages your intentions by slipping one long leg between yours and suddenly, his arousal presses to the crook of your thigh, his length burning as hot as you are. your clit throbs harder, and you move so that you’re propped by your elbow, now leaning over him. this position allows you to kiss him deeper, your free hand reaching to push back the longer strands of hair from his face. 

his forehead feels feverish beneath your fingers, and soon, his kisses burn as hot as his skin does. 

a hand strokes your thigh and then tugs. ‘c’mere,’ he murmurs into your mouth. he positions your body over his own, your thighs straddling his hips. your cunt is pressed flush against his cock and he’s unable to muffle the groan that escapes him when his tip glides through your slick folds until the blunt edge bumps your clit. you whimper against his lips before his tongue languidly slides along yours. you lose yourself to his attentions and when his hips begin to slowly roll underneath yours, you pull your mouth from his to mewl quietly into the crook of his neck. 

the head of his cock repeatedly knocks your clit and one particularly harsh thrust has you crying out a tad louder than you’d expected. the sound has the corners of his mouth curling upward, and he doubles his efforts, hips canting harder with each thrust. you keen, eyes screwed shut tight as your fingers cling to his shoulders, and you moan his name, to which he responds with a low growl and a nip to your collarbone. your arousal coats his erection, which aids the one thrust that has him prodding at your hole. it clenches instinctively, and then, it’s stretching with the thickness of his girth as he fills you. 

once sheathed, his hips still, his hands stroking and tickling wherever that he can reach, which, with those long arms of his, is everywhere. your tongue is inside his mouth once more, your fingers clutching, tangling and pulling at his hair and he groans, girth twitching deep inside you. his hips jump once more, and then his length is caressing your inner walls, and each time he sheathes himself inside you, your clit drags along the texture of his pubic hair, the sensation clenching your walls tight around him. his breath stutters and he moans, ‘fuck, baby, just like that.’ his paces quickens, and his voice trembles with his efforts as he whispers filthy promises into your ear. ‘gonna fuckin’ fill you,’ he coos happily, ‘you gonna let me breed you, huh?’ you clench around him again, ‘f-fuck, baby, pretty little pussy’s gonna fuckin’ milk me dry.’ 

he pants heavily, and the power behind his thrusts makes your thighs shake in an effort to stay upright. the room is filled with the clapping of his pelvis colliding with your own, his balls slapping your ass as he plunges deep into you. you can do nothing more than desperately clutch at him as he drills into you, the heavy weight of his cock claiming the hot cavern of your cunt as its own. rapidly, you reach your peak and as you tip over the edge, you exclaim your pleasure around the syllables of his name. this apparently pleases him, and his biceps flex when his arms wrap around your middle, holding you right against him. he continues to rut into you, your cream staining a white ring around the base of his girth. 

he groans a long, drawn out noise that has you suspecting that he must be nearing his limit. 

you couldn’t be more wrong. 

just as you’re teetering on the edge of another rapidly building orgasm, it’s interrupted by the sudden schlick of his cock tugging free from your hole. your surprise comes in the form of a sharp yelp, only to morph into a squeak when he flips the both of you over and rises to sit on his haunches. 

‘get on your knees,’ he orders, and usually, when you aren’t drunk on arousal, you would’ve reprimanded him. but, this time, his bossiness only turns you on more, and you scramble to turn away from him to position you body so that your knees dig into the mattress. a large, warm hand presses to the small of your back, guiding you until it arches, your press pressing into a pillow. ‘baby, baby, baby,’ he moans, fingers dancing over the sensitive skin on the back of your thighs. you’ve never been one for pet names, but the way he praises you makes your clit tighten when it pulses. there’s a pause, and you feel your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of being watched, and for the first time, you feel self conscious. but, when you try to curl in on yourself, you’re stopped by the mattress shifting once more, and then he’s pressing the flat of his tongue over your slit, and sucking. a breath hitches in the back of your throat, and if not for the strong grip holding your legs apart, you would’ve snapped your thighs shut together. instead, his tongue encourages you to rock your hips, and his teeth graze your clit, throbbing an electrifying heat throughout your entire body. 

‘oh my god—shuji,’ his name slips from between your lips before you can stop it, and upon realising what you’ve just said, you freeze. the tongue delving between your folds, however, does not. he’s loud and messy as he sucks at your clit, and he hums, the vibrations making your toes curl. at some point, he gives your clit a break, and instead plunges his tongue into your hole as far as it’ll reach. this stretch feels a tad strange, but still just as good, and you cry out when he repeats the action, curling his tongue inside you. 

already, your second orgasm is building and you chant the words, ‘gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna—a-ah—!’ 

your entire body shudders, and the pillow muffles your scream before it is ripped away from under your head and you have no choice but to sob out into the open air.  

your pussy clenches around nothing, and hanma watches your essence creams out from your tight hole, dripping a puddle onto his bedsheets, his palming fisting at his cock as he does so. licking at his lips, he rises above you, and smiles when he grinds the blunt head of his cock past the opening of your cunt, and watches as you greedily suck him back in. he moans along with you as he fucks into you over and over again, cursing when your cream messily marks his cock as yours. 

fuck, he thinks he’s in love. 

his eyes bore into the centre of your back, and he’s momentarily distracted by the thought of just how long he’s dreamt of doing this with you. distracted by the memory of how fucking embarrassed and hurt he’d felt when he’d finally gotten you into his bed and you hadn’t remembered how you’d gotten there. distracted by the memory of the lonely nights that followed your avoidance of him, his hands no longer being good enough to placate the ache in his chest during those lonely nights, all because nothing—no-one—has ever made him cum like you do. ten years, it has taken to get you to want him like how he’s wanted you all this time. ten fucking years, he’s pathetically lusted and pined for you, and now that you’re finally letting him touch you in the way he’s wanted to touch you since you were both nineteen years old, he’s no longer willing to let you pretend that there’s nothing between you. 

a harsh thrust has your fingers curling into the sheets, back arching further as your hips start to rock in time with him. he breathes hard between his teeth, fingers bruising the soft skin of your hips as he pistons himself so deep inside you that you squeal, a shrill, elated noise that makes his balls tighten with the promise of his approaching orgasm. he doesn’t want it to end yet, so he slows in a attempt to last longer, but you shatter his plans when his birth name is panted from your kiss-swollen lips and with that, a yell of euphoria bursts from his mouth. his cock jerks and he breeds your cavern full of his seed, the thick, white ropes painting your inner walls white. you drain him for everything that he has, pussy repeatedly clenching and unclenching, milking every drop from him. he struggles to catch his breath for a long time afterwards, pulse drumming away in his ears. when his blood finally simmers, he slowly pulls from the addicting heat of you with a soft moan of protest. his cock is still half hard, weakly twitching with interest when a large glob of his seed breeches your hole and he watches, awed, as it slides between your cum soaked folds before it joins the mess that you made on the bed earlier. 

he licks his lips, and your taste still clings to the inside of his cheeks. eyelids drooping, he relishes in your flavour, and he’s tempted to have another taste. his prick encourages the idea with another jerk, the muscle jumping between his legs as it furiously engorges with blood. again. he waits until you regain the energy to move, before he tries to kiss you again with a hesitancy that makes your brows quirk upwards. he’s half expecting you to reject him, so he’s pleasantly surprised when you readily accept his mouth moulding to the shape of yours. the sliding of your fingers across his scalp coaxes a low hum from the back of his throat, and he easily pulls you onto his lap, arms tightening around your waist. 

he’s spent over a decade trying to get your attention, and now that he finally has it, he’s going to make sure you remember this time. 

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

#♡ jordy is writing ♡ #tr x reader #tr smut #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #hanma x reader #hanma x you #hanma smut #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji x you #hanma shuji smut