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streets-in-paradise · 2 years

Text

No Space for Loneliness

Troy (2004) Reader Insert Fanfiction - Part 19

Masterlist

Word Count +17 K

Characters (Most Mentioned): Hector, Paris, Mycenaean Princess!Reader, Odysseus, Penelope, Ereny (OC),Telemachus, Melantho.

Relationships: Platonical - Hector and Paris being siblings, various kinds of friendships among different characters.

Romantical - Odysseus x Penelope, Achilles x Mycenaean Princess!Reader ( mentioned or implied.)

Warnings: None. (this is one is pretty chill.)

Summary: As the formal welcome of the trojans takes place on the ithacan palace, the clueless mycenaeans seem themselves forced to develop a processing strategy. While their princess tries to figure them out, Hector and Paris intend to do the same with her for completely opposite reasons. The eldest prince wants to decipher the contradictory messages that her attitude towards him implies, but his brother seems completely fixated on the task of getting her attention. On the context of their first day together, surprises began to emerge on both sides.

Notes: In this i included a story inspired in a headcanon I have explaining the blue outfits seen in the film. I get the impression that the style in those costumes fits much better as something Paris would wear, and this was the startpoint for those headcanons.

Tags: @yerevasunclair @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @spideyanakin-interacts @spideyanakin @awakenedevildays @alaysha-of-middleearth

The walk to the palace was quite tense and the mycenaeans tried to be less talkative, but it was impossible because Paris was walking in the middle of them and constantly bringing up things for conversation. The princess wanted to hear what Odysseus and Hector were saying but she only managed to catch fragments of their conversation because the younger trojan was being a very tenacious and effective distraction.

For the little she heard, she guessed that they were already discussing politics. Hector was quite angry and his way of showing it was going ríght to the point he cared the most. However, he wasn't accomplishing much because Telemachus impeded him for quite a while. His interventions worked as a softening agent because watching him trying to keep up with the grown ups was distractive for his mood. The little boy was trying to get a “prince to prince talk” with him and it was hard to keep a serious stance near him, which worked indirectly for the benefit of Odysseus. She heard him laugh once at his infantile occurrences while trying to avoid deviants in the topic.

She wanted so badly to make her contribution on it, especially after catching Hector mentioning something about attacks on ships of the trojans and allied kingdoms. What at first seemed like a taxing issue could be potentially more complex and she wanted to get involved, but Paris wouldn't let her simply because he wouldn't stop creating a separated conversation among the three of them.

She guessed that he was trying to entertain them, but it didn't make it less annoying. Only when he asked about Odysseus and his uses with the arrival of foreigners as an attempt to understand the mock he pulled on him did the talk make any sense to her at least.

" Being the smartest person in the room sometimes can become his favorite game, but I can't complain because it is a flaw we share. " She briefly explained to him.

Ereny was providing the most compelling replies because she didn't mind being truly involved in a casual interaction with him. She didn't have any immediate need to worry about politics.

" It was a nice revival of our childhood games. We grew up together and back then we used to pretend to be sisters to confuse visitors who never saw us before. You wouldn't believe how many people we have fooled with that."

" It still works, I'm very impressed." He easily admitted. " For two girls who aren't sisters, you pretty much feel as such in every act, I wouldn't have suspected otherwise.”.

" I'm her handmaid. My name is Ereny."

He looked adorably surprised.

" Thanks for revealing yourself to me, I wouldn't have guessed it so easily even when you have already affirmed to be a servant. "

" I don't see why not." She hesitantly replicated.

" Look at yourself, Ereny. We are in Ithaca... Who can afford you here??"

He made her laugh and he had to insist.

" Seriously, you are splendid and whoever decided to give you responsibility over your lady's beauty took an excellent choice. "

She didn't mind the relatively innocent flattery, but her friend wasn't going to tolerate it easily.

" Don't mess with Eny. " She cutted him in a menacing tone. " You can't do it, never. She is completely off limits for you. "

Paris noticed how quickly he got her full attention back and couldn't resist pointing it out.

" Don't worry, princess. I just want to be my nicest with your friend. "

" Is that your answer? Are you going to assume that I'm a princess now?"

" It's my nickname for you until I can figure out how to call you. " Paris clarified, unaware of how close he was to the truth. " Your game is exciting. My brother isn't interested, but i want to play with you. "

She didn’t want it to sound as such, but his tone made the last sentence feel like a tease. The spice in his attempts of teasing was starting to escalate and she had no idea of how to properly react to that. Normally, no man other than Achilles would dare to be so shameless with her. When being in public with him she would limitate to silently enjoy it and pretend otherwise, but that wasn't the case then because she wasn't looking for the attention of Paris. She tried to rush her mind into remembering any of the evasive strategies she saw Helen using for unwanted interactions with men, but in the hurry she couldn't think of anything useful.

She opted for being herself and hushing him in her way, acting like the protective friend she has always been.

" Keep bothering me, I don't care, but stay away from her. As soon as you make her uncomfortable, we are done. "

" Don't worry, Paris. I will let you know if you cross the line." Ereny warned him kindly. " I'm not afraid of doing it, you seem very easy to talk to. "

" I see, talking is no problem with him. " Her friend added in a subtle mock, directing her words back at him later. " Let's keep with the game. Do you have any more questions for me?"

The prince chose his words carefully.

" What does a man have to do if he wants to be interesting to you?"

She should have seen it coming, but didn't.

" Really?? Everything you asked before, i could answer. I'm not going to tell you that. "

" The rules don't specify any limits on the asking. "

" How is that going to tell you anything about who i am?"

" You have me so confused, I want to figure out which one of the two girls we knew today is the real you: the one who gave that anti heroism speech to Hector or the protagonist of that tavern tale about a hero, that I sincerely hope to be a lie. "

Her priority was protecting herself from the consequences of the verbal accidents that Telemachus caused. She couldn't prevent him from making that comment, but now she had to make sure to leave no suspects.

" I'm both of those girls and also neither of them. "

Answering in a riddle was vague enough, a way to be honest without exposure.

" Please, no more riddles! " He playfully complained. " You know exactly what I meant. "

His disconcert was quite cute and she decided to give him a bit more information in order to calm him.

" He is a friend of Odysseus who barely acknowledges my existence. " A blatant lie of reply. " His name is intimidating and part of the scheme was intimidating you, that's why Telemachus included that reference. He must have thought that it was a good idea because Achilles is the last person you want to know about when you are getting threatened. Any greek knows that. "

It was enough, a satisfying half lie for him.

" Of course, he is the attack beast of the mycenaeans. The country's worst fear, I guess. "

Instead of making her angrily defensive, the offensive take provided her with an excellent motivation. In a completely accidental way, Paris inspired her into a change of focus. A great idea crossed her mind, making her see that her initial inability to think coldly made her face the issue from the wrong perspective.

Instead of worrying about Hector's fame among the greeks as the most qualified hero in the competition for the spot of Achilles, she was going to work on the myrmidon warrior's fame among the trojans. The excitement about all the possibilities changed her attitude as she started thinking about all the tasks she had ahead, the first one being getting to know and analyze the trojan perspective on him.

The goal wouldn't be that time about getting people to like him, it was about making him be better known by the foreigners. His name getting more mentions, the tales of his feats being shared overseas once the crew would take her tellings with them to Troy. They would be talking about him. It wouldn't matter if they would do it out of fear, disbelief or real curiosity.

" Is that a personal opinion or is that how you all see him in Troy? Achilles can be accused of many things, being mindlessly loyal to Agamemnon isn't one of those. " She pointed out to the prince, keeping the needed distance in the affirmation. " I will have so much fun fixing all your misconceptions about Greece."

Paris kept deviating the point of the talk, making it about her taste as he was trying to figure out his chances with her.

" You are a smart woman, I guessed that your taste would be more refined. I don't see you seeking the company of brute soldiers and, apparently, I was ríght."

" I do like men who are willing to stick to their words and defend what they say with actions. "

It was the most polite way that occurred to her to explain that she wasn't into him.

" That was hurtful, but fair. '' Paris quickly striked back. " What you saw wasn't me at my best... I still have time to surprise you.``

She didn't bother trying to not seem careless about the warning, proceeding to ignore him in favor of making her desired entrance on the improvised political talk.

" Greeks shouldn't be a problem to you after what you did to the spartans. " She casually commented to Hector, a controversial stance giving some push to the discussion.

" I'm trying to explain to him that, if my father were a pirate king, my mother would have already noticed it and she wouldn't be happy about it. " Telemachus replied instead. " My parents never argue, so he must be wrong. "

His simplistic interpretation was quite cute. Still, he managed to understand that Odysseus wanted to incentivize the conversation between the mycenaean and the trojan.

Following his father's directives, he stopped distracting them and allowed the adult talk to flow better.

" Go ahead, dear. Don't be shy. " The Ithacan king encouraged the young princess. " Speak your mind, delight us with your guesses. "

With the given permission to speak freely, the girl let herself go.

" You trojans may be insanely rich, but it doesn't justify it. Those men have to be blinded by greed or just extremely stupid to actively come for you. Let me remind you, Hector, that you accomplished what was once impossible: expelling the spartans and breaking their king's will to keep trying more incursions. " She calmly explained. " In these conditions, the only greeks fearless enough to consider looking for troubles with you are the myrmidons, but I wouldn't bother in making them suspects. The kind of attack you described isn't their style. They are brave to a point that looks crazy and their strikes are always frontal. Who you are looking for are greedy cowards taking it on the little cities in the shadow of your greatness. "

The precise amount of detail in her advice was astonishing.

" How can you assure all of this?" Hector asked, slightly surprised.

" Femenine intuition... and an accurate knowledge of how things work around here. " She joked, keeping the mystery just to mess with him.

" I want to make it stop without having to result in the loss of lifes. "

" In that we agree, but I have to say that your conclusions are a bit insulting. Are you here looking for answers because you think the Ithacans are the thieves? Under which proofs? Don't bother using old times reputation as evidence, i want facts. "

" Ithaca is involved in clandestine commerce and I wouldn't be surprised if they found a way to avoid us and Agamemnon with the same efficiency. I'm not blaming them for those particular crimes, but this is a great place to start asking the ríght questions. "

Against any predictions on his behavior, Paris intervened to strengthen the point of his brother.

" We aren't here to blame anyone, but because we know of Odysseus's consulting role in greek politics. Since he took the lead on inviting us first, asking for some wise advice and information can't do any harm.”

The two circumstantial sides of the argument, the lady and his brother, found themselves surprised at the same time. In her case it was with the warning still fresh in her mind while in his,it was because he started wondering if they may have found a way to make him focus on what needed to be done.

On his part, Odysseus was sure of having everyone exactly where he wanted them to be.

" If I accept this proposal, would you be willing to discuss your tax policy? The honest merchants of my island are struggling because of your taxes. You count Greece as one single homogeneous territory while the truth of living here is drastically different. "

With the talk deviated to the main point they wanted to make, the princess made her part and collaborated with further argumentation.

" Stop punishing them and everyone else for Mycenae and Sparta.The situation in insular Greece ain't like theirs. " She simplified. " By taxing every greek ship with your enemies as reference all you accomplish is winning more enemies. Keep ruining places like this and the moment Agamemnon decides that he has had enough with Troy, he will find supporters. "

The king couldn't help smiling to himself, satisfied with her words.

Hector was starting to get suspicious in the ríght direction. In the heat of the discussion, her way of speaking about Ithaca changed. As if she was trying to defend the point of a king who wasn't hers, talking of the ithacans with certain distance.

Still, what truly triggered it for him was her last sentence.

" Do I have to take that as a threat?"

" No, it's some of the advice your brother says you are asking for. It didn't come from Odysseus, but I would use it if I were you."

" This is wonderful, dear. I love to see you so committed. Are you willing to help me out with this? " The king asked, playing the fool like it wasn't his plan all along " You don't have to if you don't want to. After all, you are here just to see family."

It was her time to pretend a shocked agreement of his proposal, but she decided to take advantage of the situation.

" Allow me to attend one council meeting and I'm in. "

It was too much, but she had the guts of asking it anyways.

" You know I can't do that."

" If he finds out, I will be the one who would have to stand his anger for the longest time. Even if you have the courage to face him with me, you will go and I will have to stay and deal with him. Make the punishments that he will surely apply on me feel worthy by giving me a chance to be part of something I would love to do."

Once more, they ended up in a short altercation.

" It's against the law either with him or here." Odysseus was trying to explain to her. " Even if I could, he would kill me for doing It. "

" If you can evade taxes, you can also make this for me. You broke the law once. What's wrong with breaking it twice?"

" It's tradition.I can't fight it."

" If you want my help, risk something. "

Listening carefully to them, Paris thought that it was his time to shine. It occurred to him that he could indulge the request to impress her.

" Give it for granted, princess. If he doesn't, we will take you. "

The little ray of hope Hector thought he had was extinguished and he had to stop him before he could do something extremely foolish.

" Paris, even in Troy it would be forbidden. " He added. " Getting in serious trouble for supporting her will accomplish nothing. Either for her or us, it's pointless. "

The mere idea of how much he almost risked without noticing it was surreal to her.

" I have to say I'm impressed. " She commented ríght back at the young trojan. " Risking breaking the organizational core of law for a woman you don't know at all just because you are attracted to her? I know you have spent some time on the sea, but i didn't imagine you were that desperate. "

The clever joke almost managed to make Hector laugh, but he restrained himself for the sake of Paris and his honor.

" I want to do something nice for the real you. " The lad excused himself.

" And I could be manipulating you into making me get what I want, but I choose not to. Instead i'm showing you how dumb you would be if you do that while representing your country. " She líed, knowing well that on another occasion she would have done it. Paris seemed to be so politically naive that she simply couldn't do that to him.

Of course, he insisted.

" I can take the personal blame because it was my idea. Whoever wants to complain can do it individually."

Odysseus intervened again to avoid bursting into laughter after imagining how that could possibly go.

" Are you serious,lad? " He asked in a mischievous tone, making the girls feel that he was close to hinting at the last reveal.

" Of course I am!" Was the prince's determining reply.

"... Would you personally and individually present yourself in front of the mycenaean king to tell him that you encouraged his daughter to break a fundamental law in a country you don't rule? How do you think that he would react while witnessing a son of Priam disrespecting his authority as greek King of Kings and father of this girl?"

Paris was shocked and disconcerted, but in awe of the surprise while Hector was horrified. Not by her, because he only saw his worst suspects confirmed with the clarification. He was thinking back on his brother's reactions during their encounters and the danger within his every action.

" Don't say a word." He ordered him

The princess smiled innocently at both, who wouldn't stop staring at her.

" Welcome to Greece, your majesties!" She improvised as an entrance speech. " I'm a bit shier than what i look like when i'm playing to be someone else, but i'm pleased to meet you as this sort of unofficial mycenaean representative i think I have become. Until today I had no idea that you were on your way here and Agamemnon isn't here to ruin it. Fortunately for you, it's only me. "

" She is my wife's second cousin, we haven't seen her in a long time. " Odysseus commented. " You don't know how hard it was to bring her here. He only trusts her to his brother in Sparta. My Penelope asked me to plead to Agamemnon for her and get a visit, I couldn't say no to her.

" Everyone loves her, not even him could say no. " She completed his tale, knowing that it was most likely for Penelope to have been on board with her husband's plan the whole time. " The arrangements for your invitations and mine were handled separately at different times, he forgot to tell me because i'm not a political visit... and because father wouldn't have allowed me to travel alone if he knew of two foreign princes wandering around at the same time. "

Paris couldn't resist the temptation of doing his kind of commentary, even knowing it would piss off Hector.

"... Are we being spoiled with a free glimpse of the most precious jewel in Agamemnon's treasure? Odysseus, what a welcome! Your hospitality is the weirdest, but it rewards you for it. "

" In fact, Paris, your affirmation is correct in at least one aspect. '' She replied, looking for words that could neutralize the tone. " Despite that I don't like it, seeing me alone is a privilege because i'm not usually allowed to travel without him or my uncle."

" This has been a very strange day... '' Hector limited himself to comment. " Everything was unexpected, but this goes beyond any possible or imaginable expectation."

" I can't agree more and I'm glad to be myself again. "

" ... At least I can see now the reasons for that disdain... Understandable. "

She owed him an explanation for her horrible behavior and the specific targeting she made of him. Since she couldn't tell him the truth, she faced it from a different angle.

" Do you think that I hate you because the men in my family told me to? The Atreides only nurture their hatred into masculine descendants who can keep the circle with actions of impact. They don't bother with doing it to me because I'm useless. "

" You spoke of my leading in the last battles against the spartans. " Hector reminded her. " As the niece of their king, I can expect some hate coming from you. "

" Please don't! I can't let you assume that. " She felt obliged to correct. " Your role there doesn't bother me in the slightest. Menelaus got what he deserved with you beating his men so easily. Sure, it cost spartan lifes... but think how many could have been lost if he wouldn't feel reluctant to come back for more like he did before? He will think twice before making another try and let me tell you that this is a great achievement. My uncle is stupidly stubborn, he never thinks anything twice."

Her words got the approval of the prince, who wasn't expecting a reasonable answer.

Odysseus chose to see it as a small sign of success.

They reached their destination and found Penelope already waiting for them at the entrance of the palace for the receival. A slave girl slightly older than Telemachus was acting as her company, since the queen intended to use the oportunity to train her in the discretional management of special ocassions like that one. The kid was fascinated and excited in equal amounts, but they were supposed to work on how to control those emotions for an appropriate formal receivement of the special guests.

A quick glance from afar as they were reaching them was enough to put Penelope’s remarkable capacity for discretion at risk because of the amusement that she got from that very first sight. In awareness of her husband’s intentions and some manifested preferences of her young cousin, that first look was hilariously ironic to her. Both mycenaean girls saw it in her eyes right away; she noticed the same detail they did before in the dressing style of the trojans. They were wearing matching blue outfits that looked like the princess herself could have picked for them, as if they would have accidentally dressed up for her. A subtle sharing of glances between the three women made her participate in the joke that Ereny came up with earlier that day and, probably later, of her challenge.

That was the sign for their game to begin. Taking the needed distance that the new introductions required, Ereny and her lady used that space to observe and make their preliminary judgments.

Neither of the Ithacan royals behaved with the extreme protocol caution that could have been expected of them. Telemachus abandoned all pretensions of demureness as soon as he saw his mother, running towards her with a happy face. This caused the unfortunate unleashing of the little slave’s regular ways and she started chuckling,what made him stop inmediately and right he could give the yearned salute.

“ Why are you laughing now?” He complained directly to the amused slave.

“ You look like a baby. Can’t you wait until you are out of sight to look for the love of mommy?” She mocked him. “ The princes of Troy aren’t going to pay their respects to you if you keep embarrassing yourself like that. “

“ I’m braver than Paris.” Telemachus announced with full pride. “ Atta says I’m doing great and the girls think I’m too smart for my age.”

“ Of course they will say all of that! People are always nice to babies.”

Seeing the frustration in her boy’s semblance, Penelope procured to fix the issue intervening directly in it.

“ Melantho, that is enough! “ She reprimanded her. “ There is a line between friendly mockery and harsh insults. Right now, you are at the edge of it.”

“ She always is.” Her son observed, intending to mock her as well. “ We should tell the trojans to beware of her snake tongue.”

Telemachus was speaking from his anger. The right thing to do in order to calm down both was to go in the opposite direction.

“ It stops being a joke when the people you are joking with don't find it funny anymore.” Penelope patiently concluded in her explanation to Melantho. Softly but severely, a consistent way to make her see the mistake. . “ You must apologize right now. “

Telemachus smiled at his mother, wishing to show himself stronger in her eyes.

“ Don’t worry, I don’t need it.” He calmed her. “ I know that Melantho is jealous because I didn’t invite her to my beach walk today. She wants to get to know the girls, but you always send her away when they stay with you. “

Her talks with her second cousin weren’t meant for the ears of any servant, not even her most beloved. Penelope wasn’t able to properly explain to Melantho why she saw herself forced to exclude her, so she tried to comfort her.

“ Our guest prefers privacy, that’s why I do it. She is not used to living among strangers on foreign courts, we are the first kingdom that she is touring alone. “ She excused herself.” … She likes your father’s work in the gardens, perhaps we can invite her to spend an afternoon there with us, like Telemachus did when he took her with Eumaeus. “

The proposal satisfied her and she was all smiles again, but Odysseus didn’t need to hear what happened to make a correct approximation and comment about it.

“ You are the land’s peacemaker, my love.” He told Penelope. “ I don’t know what would be of us without you.”

The queen was bright with joy, but would still want to play with him.

“ What took you so long? Did you have to mess around with those poor young men? Playing tricks on everyone is not a good way to make friends.”

He gifted her a little cackle and followed her lead.

“ It works for me, we just had a very interesting talk. They wouldn’t have opened to me so easily if i wouldn’t have tested the limits of Hector’s legendary patience.”

She couldn’t help laughing while picturing in her mind what he could have possibly done to them.

“ Well, boys. I ran out of tricks for now. “ He told the princes as he headed in the direction of her, setting the space for the introductions. “ This beautiful smiling woman is the one who stole my heart.”

The mycenaeans observed them in great amazement. They looked more in love than any other married couple they could remember. Odysseus took both of Penelope’s hands, tangling them lovefully with his to resist the indecorous impulse of kissing her right there.

Paris made a silly joke that could have ruined the ambience, but fortunately didn’t.

“ It’s nice to meet her. What do we tell your wife?” He inopportunely commented, knowing the obvious answer but still choosing to mock them just because they looked cute. “ It’s her, I know it and that kind of attitude doesn’t represent me in the slightest.”

The princess was imagining the opposite.

“ He is trying to emulate your clever takes, that’s all.” Hector clarified. “... Everytime you notice this, assume that he wants to be nice.”

“ I’m taking the mental note on that, thank you. “ Penelope replied, showing to not be disturbed.

Odysseus concluded the presentation without wasting time in further teasing; the lad had enough with the prank he pulled on him and was probably nervous.

“ It’s fine, París.. and you are right. She is Penelope. My wife, the mother of my son, queen of this land and the love of my life.” He pridefully explained. “ A very busy woman, there are many roles for her to fill.”

The young prince felt teased by the fact that the king’s joke was actually funny. To some extent, his quick mind started to impress him.

It was very hard to tell, but the detailed observation that was meant to make the game help the princess to notice something odd about Hector's reactions to the royal couple. Unlike Paris, who was all about bad joking and cute cheering, there were glimpses of deep introspectiveness in him. His mood improved and there was a warm sparkle in his intensely brown eyes. She thought that it had to be a feeling on the long scale from situational admiration to wishfulness. Odysseus' advice on not hearing rumors was backlashing on her. She started wondering if the prince felt nostalgic over a woman he left at home or if his expression showed his craving for someone he didn't have then.

His rather severe expression seemed slightly dulcified, probably while unaware of being catched in those sweet thoughts.That Hector, she thought, was a bit more interesting that the struggling leader that she met at the port. Ereny was spying on her examination, waiting for her to admit that the eldest son of Priam was better looking than what they expected him to be. It was true, but it wasn't saying much. Hector was handsome in the way of a royal, better looking than many greek princes she had met. His kind of beauty was slightly more appealing to her taste than his brother's and he was closer to what greeks would imagine a prince should look like. Quite nice compared with her suitors, not the worst choice for an awkward enforced date. Besides,the blue clothes were giving him a plus of attractiveness.

To make things fair, she tried to base her judgment thinking on the first sight of Achilles that she got during their meeting in Sparta, trying to evoke some preliminary judgments on both. The trojan prince was fine, but just by looking at him he wasn’t making her feel the same weakness that she felt ríght away with the myrmidon warrior.

Her opening verdict on Hector was merely daring to admit that he had his own amount of attractiveness. He was more objectively handsome than what she imagined him to be, but that was all.

The princes were introducing themselves to Penelope, Hector taking the lead to stop Paris from messing it up. Things were going good, but his brother could not be stopped from being himself.

" You are extremely lucky, she is a beauty." He commented to Odysseus. " What kind of low trickery did you pull off to marry this woman?"

" I can give political advice, but I don't share my seduction secrets. " He mocked back. " ... The truth is that I don't even know what I did. She fell for me and it all happened so fast that i can't think of what i did ríght."

" At least he is aware that you are too cute for him. '' Paris joked with Penelope, his careless freedom for it making her laugh more than the joke. " I'm honored to be your guest, Penelope... and to meet you and your splendid cousin. You two are the living proof that beauty can run in the blood of a family indefinitely."

" Thank you, Paris. I'm glad to see that your meeting turned out fine. I was worried because i know it is not easy, but my husband handled it appropriately for what I understand from you."

" His methods are not conventional, but I see the point now. " Hector added. " A good warning scare to get him ready for what was coming... Not enough, unfortunately."

" Neither King Odysseus or Agamemnon are being disrespected by my comments. They are related by a nearly invisible string of beautiful women, that is a surprising fact that i can't ignore because i'm an admirer of femenine beauty. "

Penelope tried to stop a possible altercate derivative of Hector' attempts to control the tongue of Paris.

" The end of the string is in Sparta, Helen is my youngest first cousin. Not many people think about it, but we are family and most would agree in considering her the most excellent exponent of your theory." She added, closing Paris' conclusion." She is not with us today, I plan to visit her by myself soon. Convincing Agamemnon to let this girl come to see me was very hard already, asking Menelaus to let me see his wife at the same time is nearly impossible."

" It's a distant bond, we are only related through the girls. '' Odysseus helped her conclusions. " I agreed with the choice. One at the time is good, the two of them would be chaos. They are well behaved ladies until one crosses the path of the other. "

The mycenaean lady answered the claim with a shy smile, playing the fool and refusing to directly confirm or deny anything.

Paris knew the intentionality of that gesture, he would often use it when he wanted to hide something. He answered with a very dissimulated smirk that would let her know of his awareness.

" I'm familiar with that feeling. " Hector answered for him to Odysseus. " I would never want to make anyone else deal on purpose with the mess that Paris and Briseis can create"

The young prince admitted his guilt and provided context for the small teasing.

" She is our cousin. We are very different but we get along amazingly. "

" Everytime the stars align and they agree on something they teamwork into whatever they would be up to." Hector followed his trail of tellings.

" She is the mind, I'm the instigator. '' Paris pridefully added, apparently confirming a long date suspect of his brother.

" I would never bring them anywhere together, one at the time is good. "

The joke was a clever way to express the emulation of feeling, managing to make the king and queen laugh spontaneously.

Penelope spoke first after ending the chuckles.

" Please, come in. All your well needed comforts are being prepared. "

" We can't accept your excellent offerings yet, kind queen. '' Hector politely declined, which didn't seem to be in the taste of Paris. " We can't allow ourselves to rest while our men are still waiting at the beach. Your husband caught us while doing the primary exploration of the territory. "

" Safety reasons, my brother is insanely cautious. " Paris pointed out. " We also have to get back for the sacrifices. I hate having to leave, but our father would be very upset if he finds out that we neglected the honors of the gods who brought us here in safety."

" Those are being performed by our priests as we speak." Penelope informed, which was a nice surprise for both. " I was told of the particularly dedicated importance that religious rituals have in your culture. Those are very important to us as well, of course, but someone once told me that the strength of trojan religiousness makes the greek look like superstition. That's why I thought on making it part of the hospitality arrangements. Apollo and Poseidon, right? Your patron gods, for what I heard. "

" If it is all wrong, you can correct my source, she is ríght there. " The king clarified, speaking of the mycenaean princess.

The stares of the princes were back on her again and she wished that her friend would stop including her.

" No need to do it, you can consider that correct.” Hector stated. " Although that is a very specific comparative observation for what I can't object yet. I don't know the characteristics of greek religiousness. "

" It's a literal claim I heard her saying, perhaps she can explain it to you later. " Odysseus insisted. " She speaks about you all the time, you wouldn't imagine how. Don't let that sudden shyness deceive you. From all of us, she must be the most excited with your visit. It was an accidental coincidence, but it became a bit of a special surprise for her. "

Hector wasn't sure of how to correctly interpret his words. Odysseus was being purposely ambiguous and the persistent staring that he noticed on her part was starting to confuse him. Despite a while after she seemed to hate him, he was fearing that the hostile attitude could have been a hiding tactic for something worse. It wouldn't be the first time that would happen to him, but it wasn't a good occasion for that sort of problem. He knew how to kindly reject the interest of ladies enraptured by the image of him they would get to know, but having to disappoint the daughter of Agamemnon was too much of a dangerous task.

The worries over the possibility, wondering how he was supposed to handle the heartbreak of a mycenaean princess, inspired him to be more open in his answers.

He replied with a critical said. Something that he would have saved for later if he would have had intentions of being liked, but that he had no need to shut.

" She ownes a trojan woman, i'm aware of that. I wouldn't be proud of the source for knowledge in that condition."

Even when that comment was meant for the lady, Ereny felt personally attacked by the implications.

" Hesione is our mother." She claimed in a challenging tone, not realizing immediately of the full meaning of the phrase due to the anger. " ... Well, not literally speaking because we weren't born from her "

The princess wouldn't have wished to keep talking, but he forced her to.

" She raised us, we love her in the way daughters are supposed to love a mother." She corrected him, following the rude explanation of her friend. " The excitement is not about you, prince. It's about her and everything she has taught to us, how happy we are for getting more contact with the culture that she clandestinely inculcated in us all our lives. Hiding her cultural legacy would be like denying the spot she has in my life, i will not do that just to make you feel better with the choices that your father took before you. I have to live with the blame that Agamemnon will never take. I think you must accept the convenient political abandonment that Priam had to do of her cause and let us be. "

" Darling, that is no way to speak to my guest.'' Odysseus sweetly corrected her. " Leave the controversies for later."

" His father will never risk going to war for the fate of one woman and that is understandable, but in that palace we have to live with the consequences everyday. I don't want to be judged for something I can't truly be blamed for, her captivity was a reality since before my birth."

Her responses were tranquilizing and polemical for drastically different reasons. Hector found relief in having no reasons to fear about being a secret crush of hers or anything close to that, but his rush of open honesty cleared the way for an uncomfortable discussion.

" It's good to hear that, at least by you, she is treated fairly. "

A relatively innocent thing to say in such a context, but it anyways contributed to her exasperation.

" Queen Clytemnestra, my own birth mother, fought alongside Hesione to her last breath. You must know that she was your father's main supporter when he went to Mycenae intending to rescue her, but that's nothing. You know nothing. " She grimly replicated. " It's not simply ' fair treatment', I love that woman. If I would have found a way to send her home where she could have a full life, I would have done it years ago."

She was angry and it made her ignore that it was impossible for Hector to have the complete dimension of her reasons. Her love for Hesione was part of who she was and she hated to hear him questioning it.

Feeling guilty for such alteration in her state, he tried to help her calm.

" I would like to keep this conversation in a more propitious moment, if that doesn't bother you. The subject deserves the best of us and I think we are not at our best ríght now. It has been a strange day, we were all affected by that. "

Paris was absolutely amazed to witness the short argument.

" My brother is the best spokesman I know and he is retiring from a verbal altercation because of your answer ... You have to teach me how to do that. "

" I did nothing more than stand up for my truth."

" Excuse me for being fascinated by the way in which you did it. "

Knowing of Hector and his rational worries, Odysseus opted for joking with him.

" He will be well surveilled, my men will do the job for you. There are also some mycenaeans doing nothing around the palace, that has to be enough. "

" Clearly, you don't know my brother. "

Melantho laughed in strong chuckles that brought the attention to her. Self identification, she had heard many times similar comments about her.

Telemachus copied the same strategy of Hector and rushed to the presentations.

" She is the daughter of Dolios, our gardener. Her name is Melantho. Sometimes she can be mean, but we are used because that's who she is and we appreciate her despite that. "

The kindness in the choice of ignoring the pettiness of their fight to say something nice was the pride of his parents. They were both very happy at everytime they would get to see signs showing that they were managing to raise a compassive boy.

Paris noticed that Melantho wasn't laughing particularly at him.

" Let's hope that she will be less mean to me than you were. " He joked with Telemachus before switching the direction of his speech to her. " What do you say, Melantho? Do I have better chances to get along with you? He is completely on Hector's side, but that is normal. I bond better with girls, it happened to me all my life.

The slave girl answered with a shy giggle and everyone, Odysseus included, were shocked by it. Paris, of all people, saved himself from her mordacious tongue.

The perks of being a pretty boy, Telemachus thought.

" We love her, but Melantho is one of the reasons why I'm relieved of never getting visits of Agamemnon. " The king began to explain the collective mood of the family. " She mocks everyone, no one escapes her... Not even myself. You have no idea of how lucky you are, Paris. “

The young prince seemed pleased to hear that and he thanked her for her kindness with a friendly smile.

Penelope intervened before she could make a mess out of herself.

" Let's not demorate them any longer, my love. We would be terrible hosts. " She advised her husband. " Why don't you take a chariot and accompany them? Hector uses the same method you do when you are the strange man in distant lands. It's a good way for them to meet you and by your return everything would be ready."

" Don't you love her already? She is in every detail. " Her husband praised her in front of the guests and later approached his son for a question about the last thing he had to do.

" Would you mind staying with the girls for a while? We will be back quick."

The mischievous little kid had an outstanding replication ready.

" Let Paris stay behind, if he wants it so badly. " Was his comeback. " I will go with you, mom can handle him alone. "

" Are you offering to do the work for me? That would be amazing, I'm exhausted. " Paris shamelessly claimed, joking with him. " After all,is the least you can do to compensate me for that trick you pulled on me. Very thoughtful solution, Telemachus. I forgive you. "

The little prince was up to take it as a truce.

" Try not to get punched until we get back, the mycenaeans look very strong. They must punch hard."

Paris was warned, it was up to him to decide if he was going to take the risk.

The princes took the proposed paths, one with the king and the other following the queen. Paris was comfortable as a fish under water among the femenine group, what was a bit atypical for them in the context of the interactions. Penelope, Melantho and the mycenaeans were more or less wondering the same thing. How could he be so relaxed about staying with them while the men were gathering somewhere else? Wouldn't he be shamed for it later? Did he care for shame... at all? A prince who preferred to observe and engage with the simple mundanity of femenine domesticity before joining the actions of the men was a rarity. It wasn't only about winning more time to spend with the princess, he was feeling genuinely good with all of them. Paris seemed absolutely careless for his masculine honor and that was hard to understand at times.

The truth was that, despite his quirks, he was a likable man who would take personal pride on being a pleasing company. Penelope found it surprising while Melantho was completely charmed by him. She was acting as a girl would do when crushing on some famous person and it was probably the case, an innocent childhood crush in development.

The mycenaean girls examined him with the strange reminder in mind about how he was once considered by the princess as a marriage choice to escape her father. Thinking that the man in front of her could have been her husband was odd, particularly because she didn't have a clear mental image of him being made before. All she knew was about his physical beauty and the charming sweetness and frivolous irresponsibility that characterized his behavior. She never thought about him for real, he was part of a bargain plan and the strategies imagined were more contextual. Getting to meet him was a strange experience and his ways with her weren't helping to change that. Her imagined scenario of how the political marriage could have been pacted between them was completely different from how their actual meeting ended up developing. Paris wasn't supposed to find her attractive, she never expected him to flirt with her like he was.

His interest wasn't serious and it was easy for her to see that. Knowing that there would be no hurted feelings was the only bright side of the situation, but she still would have prefered to go unnoticed. The irony was killing her: a man she once selected as her safe candidate for a cold wedding transaction turned out to be wanting her for his commitment-free entertainment. In the polar opposite of her imagined use for him, what Paris wanted was a warm spot on her bed.

She sensed it in the undertones of some of his comments; there was something else beneath the praise. It made her think of the mockfull warnings that Achilles made her... Maybe he wasn't the only one who noticed her and saw beauty. Perhaps, despite all the efforts, she wasn't absolutely invisible to the unwanted eyes of other men. The personal disgrace of Helen came to her mind. Through his playful flirting, Paris was making her experience a more innocent glimpse of her everyday struggle and it didn't feel as good as people would like it to be. She was flattered, maybe, but not pleased. Thinking about how her aunt had to stand thousands of similar situations, sometimes with very despicable men like the very same she was forced to marry, helped to put things in perspective.

At least the trojan prince was likable, funny and handsome, probably not the worst option for a man giving her the Helen treatment. In honor of her disgraced aunt, she had to stand him with dignity. If Helen was able to do it all the time with worse men than Paris, she had to be able to deal with him. Eventually, she would find the way to make him stop. Until then, all she had to do was come up with ingeniously sarcastic comebacks for his comments.

Even when receiving him was an obligation of her cousin, she agreed to make her company on the task and so did Ereny. After his first tour around the palace, Paris chose to start with the most elemental requests in order to wait for the arrival of his companions: a comfortable place to sit, a fresh drink and some more time with all of them to have entertaining conversations.

Her two confidants found a way to make the asks that they all wanted to be solved. Penelope praised Paris's clothes in what looked like a way to make small talk. It was a deliberate attempt of making him talk, knowing that her young cousin would never ask about it herself. Ereny joined forces with her to start a conversation about fashion that could explain the incredible coincidence between his dressing and the princess' taste.

They gave him the craved chance to talk about himself beyond the implications of being a trojan prince. He told them that the indiscrete blue outfit was a dressing choice that he imposed on Hector. His brother would have prefered to be seen for the first time wearing his armor, but it wasn't the first impression that Paris wanted to give. One of his conditions to join the crew was that they both would be wearing clothes of his own design. He shamelessly confessed to enjoying being the model of his own creations, enlightening his servants with the vision of the exact sort of garment that he wanted to be made for him in each occasion. That odd fact brought him some positive attention from the princess, who was more than willing to understand the use of fashion as self expression.

Hector was the main víctim of his creative impulse. Paris tended to order new clothes to be made for him very often, but he sometimes gifted him matching versions of his clothing. The designs were a delight for the sight of the women in Troy, but tended to not fit with his preferred style. After a few failed tries of encouraging him to wear his gifts, Paris realized that the only way would be making small modifications. The result had to feel more like him, reinterpretations of his concepts could be made to fit better with his brother.

He got carried away with his explanations as he pointed out multiple small differences in those very same matching outfits they saw them wearing that day. Ereny ended up encouraging her friend into talking about their experiences going through the full process of clothing creation. The princess tried to avoid entering into great descriptions of her own self made items, but Paris would keep insisting on his wish to hear more. He showed admiration for her craft because he never learned to sew. His clothes were made for him with precise indications but he wasn't part of the confection process. Her tellings made him curious and he couldn't wait to see if there would be any chances for him to watch her wearing at least one garment of her finest wearing.

Fearing that the very pleasant talk could be deviated into flirtatious territory, she continued telling him about things that wouldn't be made for herself. Ereny mentioned her strong belief about how one of Agamemnon's favorite clothes was something they made for him. He would never admit it, doing it would be encouraging his daughter in a way that wasn't part of his parenting style, but the slave girl affirmed to be almost sure that the king actually appreciated this quality of her.

She never thought about it, but it would make sense. The few artworks made by her that were officially gifted were some tapestries destined to Menelaus and Nestor, only the two persons whose opinions he cared about the most. Perhaps, Agamemnon considered that only his closest relatives and friends were worthy of a gift made with the skill of her hands.

Thinking about that made her feel even better about her impulsive choice of gifting Achilles the tapestry that she made using him as inspiration. .

At his return, Hector had to hear some unexpected and inconvenient news. The fashion talk concluded with a deal being made between his brother and the queen. He promised her design assistance on her work for a new garment meant for Odysseus and he wasn't going to leave until she would have finished it.

It happened too fast. The loose boundaries of the ambient that the prince created around him impulsed Penelope to talk about her most recent work in progress, an attitude that she would have never imagined to have adopted in front of a man. Paris was commenting on his bravely seductive sense of style and she couldn't help to admit that it was the precise kind of masculine perspective that she wanted for that work. He understood immediately the intentions behind her concept, but didn't make it a big deal so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable. Instead, he offered himself as a consultant designer, claiming it as a fair pay for the political consulting of Odysseus. A trade offer, his husband's help to Hector in exchange for the help he could be giving to her. Paris was so excited while doing the proposition that he made it sound reasonable and Penelope agreed, in disbelief with herself for doing it.

In a matter of moments during their interaction, the charming young trojan managed to make a hidden side of her come out so subtly that she didn't realize her mistake until it was too late. He spoke to her as a woman, not as the queen of the land he was visiting. Instead of talking trivialities about life in the island, Paris incentivated her into telling him about her self indulgent work inspired by the desire for her husband. Even more unbelievable than that was his avid interest in helping her despite understanding the subtle implications. It was evident that the concept of femenine desire was no mystery to him, but Paris seemed to be oddly celebrative of it even when he wasn't involved in the results. It was an attitude that made the three women listening to him weirdly curious, enough for the two mycenaeans to forget presenting objections to her agreement of the deal. They were too busy to complain with logic, trying to understand the prince and his incredible affinity with femenine sensibilities.

The trojans were disappointingly shocked because their prince's recklessness would force them into what could become an indefinite stay. Hector was inclined to think that it was a trick of Paris to buy himself more time with the mycenaean, an absurd delay created to serve his selfish interest of seducing her. In any case, the damage was done. Breaking a promise made to Penelope was not an option, it would be rude and a great mistake because she had a good amount of influence on Odysseus. They had no choice but to follow his brother's whim, something that was very disappointing for someone who intended to get out fast from the assumed compromise with the king of Ithaca. With the whole crew gathered in the palace, at least he could find comfort in the relaxing receivement that was prepared for them. Warm baths, great food and the arrangements for their good rest were the beginning of itacan hospitality.

The host king had a drastically different opinion on the weird news. Things were going even better than what his plans established; the unexpected delay would buy him time. Enough to deal with his primary objectives without having to simultaneously worry about the secondaries. Thanks to it, he would be able to be a politician first and a friend later. He won more time to dedícate into solving the political issues, but it will also be more time that mycenaeans and trojans would spend together among his people.

The great coincidence playing on his favor made him suspicious of his wife, guessing it to be a strategy developed by her to help him out. Imagining that it would be easy for a clever woman like her to come up with a way of manipulating Paris, he was up to praise her for the move.

" What a strange lad is that Paris, don't you think?" He casually commented to her once the foreigners wouldn't be able to hear them. " Offering help in domestic labor? Nice, but not quite proper for a prince. What or who may have inspired him the deal? I know that he has no shame and would do anything for time with the girls, but I doubt that he came up with that idea on his own. "

Penelope smirked, amused by the unusual innocence in her husband's assumptions. The communicative aspects of the deal didn't include any descriptions of what was being made. Until then, she didn't find a calm moment to share with him her full first impression of the visitor.

" Don't underestimate him, he may not be the idiot you believe him to be. There has to be something lying beneath the cowardice and vanity, i wouldn't judge him harmless so quickly. "

He started wondering what made her change an assumption that they initially seemed to share. What happened during the short time the prince was left alone in the palace?

" What did I miss? Is he bothering you as well? Do I have to protect all my dearest women from his unstoppable flirtatious spirit? " He lovefully teased her.

The guess seemed to amuse her even more.

" He has one clear target and it isn't me, but we all felt safe in his company despite that. What we discovered, I mean us because I think the girls catched it with me, is that Paris can be very ingenious for absolutely hedonistic reasons."

He understood the direction that her advice was taking.

" Hidden resources that he could be keeping for his own means. " He summarized. " He acts like a fool in front of me, but he would use his whole arsenal for a determined hedonistic emprise crossing his mind... Let's say, sleeping with a beautiful princess. "

" Precisely. It is an unexpected complication that your strategy has to consider. Your target may get eclipsed by his brother, he will not let them time to be alone. Paris wants her to get closer, i don't think he cares for who she is. On the other side, Hector does and that is a double obstacle for you. "

“ Repel one and attract the other towards her. “ He concluded with her. “ I can work on two fronts, something will occur to me. "

" I was going to suggest that you could for once make use of those protectiveness inducing feelings. Instead of thinking about the ranting speech that you are going to give to Achilles the next time you will see him, focus on keeping an eye on Paris. "

The recommendation was alarming, but he tried to take it lightly.

" He may not be trustable, but I trust her. She would not allow a man like Paris inside her bedroom. "

The amount of tenderness that his way of speaking caused her was unbelievable.

" In that you are ríght. He is not her type. '' Penelope joked, keeping the route of the chat while sweetly messing with him. " But Paris doesn't know that yet and perhaps knowing it wouldn't make any difference. High difficulties could be his stimulation, finding out who she is didn’t stop him. The invocations to Agamemnon’s name don’t mean much to him, but he may get a vague sense of danger that could be exciting. After all, she has a reputation as an unattainable woman given her highest royalty origins and assumed virtuous behavior.”

There was some truth in her advice, but she was also trying to see how far he was willing to let the worries escalate.

The fast mind of Odysseus was fabricating a detailed scene for the situation.

" ... Why didn't I think of this before?? That bastard wants to bed her for bragging!! His brother is a war hero, he has nothing to bring any positive attention to himself. " He exclaimed, acting as if he would have received a crucial revelation from the insight of his wife.

Penelope limited herself to listening to his assumptions.

“ He thinks that he will come back to Troy victorious to tell his friends about her ruined virtue and claim the authorship for this criminal feat. He would not get glory for it, but the closest equivalent feeling without having to step on a battlefield while believing himself to have accomplished something impossible. ´Hector may have expelled the spartans with the strength of his arms, but with his charm he deflowered the princess of the mycenaeans ' That’s what he is up to.... How could I have almost let this pass?"

Penelope couldn't hold her chuckles anymore.

" He doesn't know who he is messing with! I will accomplish my purpose and he will be in the front líne witnessing his brother's wedding. "

" Whatever you say, my love. "

Her reaction made him realize the main point in her playing: taking things to an extreme so he could gain awareness.

" I'm worrying again, the controlled environment that I hoped for my intervention isn't what we got and the political tensions are worse than what I expected."

She knew him well, losing the sense of control over the multiple situations was the aspect affecting him.

" How much worse?"

" It's not only about angered merchants, the consequences of their heavy taxing are escalating. For now, it started to manifest into deliberate pirate attacks on their trade ships, but who knows when they could start landing to attack towns. Hector answered my call for him so diligently because of this, they suspect greek islanders. It is unclear if they think I know something or if they just came for advice, but they want me to solve this with them."

She was always up to show him a bright side.

" It's the perfect opportunity to elevate complaints to their king with a justified cause. " She reminded him. " They are bringing it on themselves, they must be aware that any applied policy brings unwanted downsides."

" They want me to find the guilty ones, or at least give them any clues of where to head in order to find them."

" A punctual punishment wouldn't be enough, more will keep coming."

" I know, but they may be hoping to turn this into an example for all the rest." He shared his guesses with her. " I wanted to discuss policies, not to solve some mystery that they can't on their own."

" We can do both, nothing stops us from serving our interests while they expose theirs." The queen contributed. " This is good.The trojans could have seeked for the help of Crete, the biggest islander realm in Greece, but they came to us: to you. The fame of your resourcefulness will slowly reach the asians."

" I'm Odysseus, not Achilles." He mocked her despite knowing that the intention of the comment wasn't to insufflate pride.

" It's not about winning glory and gratitude among the trojans. If we do good diplomatic work, it would set a good precedent for future interactions into the eradication of tensions. Isn't that the final goal of your crazy plan to bond their crown with the mycenaean?"

" It's one implied goal among many driving my will. " He clarified. " Peace is my goal as king. My goal as a friend is finding a good, caring and responsible husband for that girl that would count with her father's approval. "

" Things will follow the intended course of fate. Nothing will stop you if your goddess inspired you,in some alliance with the son of Aphrodite, to intervene in the setting of an union that is meant to be. If she didn't put that in your mind and it's just your will to manipulate destiny into what you consider as the best outcome, you are settled for failure and there isn't much you can do about it. "

" Wait until you witness more of their talks and tell me later if i'm settled for failure. " He insisted, with visible excitement. " It wasn't needed, but she jumped into our defense as soon as Hector mentioned the remote possibility of attributing any blame to this kingdom. In less than what I expected they were building theories together, she was helping him to eliminate suspects and sharing her insights with him."

" ... Like she would do with anyone willing to listen to her. " Penelope cutted him off. " She craves to be heard and Hector respected her opinions. As a singular episode, it means nothing. "

" She has shaken his expectations, I can feel it. At some point I heard them talk of the spartan wars, a tense topic to bring up so early. Hector thought that she was going to defend her uncle's point but, Instead, she praised his role in the last one. We got him when she rambled about the preservation of lifes that his conclusion of the war cycles brought. He liked that, I bet he didn't see it coming. "

" You would need more than a good impression if you think you can make them fall in love. You can't do the work of the winged bowman, or undo his preexistent labor."

" I have to push them in the ríght direction, help to awake the interest of Hector and let him find his way to her on his own. "

She began to play with his hair, a loveful and relaxing gesture as she tried to realistically shake his worries away.

" Love isn't predictable and counting with his interest is not enough. " She remarked before bringing on her own experience. " I remember to have recognized genuine interest in a few of my suitors back in the day, but that didn't stop me from picking you in what I consider the best choice of my life. "

He couldn't help smiling.

" I waited, I left myself to be chosen by you, but I always knew that you were the one for me. "

" We didn't know ríght away that things were going to end well. We had obstacles, doubts and fears, but we overcame all of that together. "

He understood the path that her thoughts were taking and intended to object.

" It's not the same, you can't compare us with them. I may not be the man that your parents wanted, but i knew from the start that I wanted to make you my wife " Odysseus began his not so objective rambling. " She would be ruining her life or risking to get killed for a man who doesn't dream with a home and a loving wife. There is nothing indicating that he would be willing to do the right thing for her. Take, for example, the fact that Achilles is a kingdomless prince with a mercenary lifestyle, affording the modest comforts that what he obtains from war spoilings allows him to. It's a good life for a single man, but not comfortable for a marriage. He is not planning to get married any soon and I can't encourage her romantical illusions."

" Be honest with yourself... Would you have given up just because my father used to say that you were going to ruin my life? Were you ready to let me go?"

He hushed, silence speaking for him.

" What makes you think then that Achilles will do it?" She wisely remarked. " He may not have been looking for love, but he could have found it accidentally. What stops you from believing that he could be in love with her? If you think that Hector, who is a total stranger to us, can be driven into developing feelings for her… Why not your friend?”

" I'm committed to protect her. Who else is going to do it? We know that it will not be Agamemnon. Should I trust then in Menelaus's judgment, after what he did to Helen? I don't care if he is her direct family, I can't! " His ranting showed more of his caring love than worry. " Hector has the pragmatic potential to be a good husband and Troy is far away. She would be safe and time would help her to forget. "

Penelope stopped what she was doing to grab his face with both hands, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look at her in the eye.

" No amount of time would make me forget you. Never, regardless of the circumstances. " She stated, her stare loaded with love as she spoke from the bottom of her heart. " I wouldn't have been able to stand the pain if my father had given me away to someone else."

The issue wasn't closed, but he couldn't think of one single clever argument to replicate.

In the meantime, the mycenaeans were collectively processing the changes that happened during the course of one single day. The men in the crew accompanying the princess were deliberating over how to proceed with their own cluelessness. They guessed that their king wasn't warned of the scheduled trojan visit or otherwise, they would have been instructed about it. The mere thought of operating against Agamemnon's wishes terrified them and they were considering returning to Mycenae on the next morning. The lady was moderating the discussion, a role that she claimed for herself under the excuse of being the cause of the issue.

The state of alarm incentivized a strengthening of the security near her, a spontaneous measure that they took to face a situation that they weren't prepared for. With the full arrival of the trojans to the palace the sense of threat intensified among them and she was escorted away after a brief formal introduction between crews.

Then, they were trying to decide what to do about it.

At first, the most accepted option was the return, but it wasn't a viable option of her liking. She disencourage it by claiming that it would make them all look like cowards, not regarding the disobeyance to their king, but in front of the trojans themselves. In what was half an attempt to read ahead the mind of her father and partially a manipulation tactic, she convinced them of thinking that Agamemnon would prefer to risk her before giving Hector the impression of being afraid of him. They had to stay to prove that Mycenae wasn't afraid of Troy.

Leaving Odysseus with an empty setting for his trick would have been fun, but she didn't want to leave. There was nothing that she wouldn't stand to be away from her father and she was loving her time in Ithaca. She loved to be living among the royal family In such a beautiful place as that quiet island was. To make her wish to leave it would require something worse than Paris and his flirty approaches, an inconvenience that she was feeling capable of dealing with. Besides, knowing of Odysseus' intentions didn't extinguish her respectful curiosity about the trojans. She craved for years for a chance like that one, literally impossible to have in her palace. She would be living among a big group of Trojan people in an ambiance that assured her freedom to ask anything she would wish to.

It was obvious that the Itacan king wouldn't be accomplishing his plan for her. Before the visit would be over, Hector would be sick of her constant questioning.

Escaping the situation would leave an open space for speculation that her friend could use indefinitely; she had to stay and prove him wrong. Her approach shouldn't be about avoiding the prince. Instead, she had to bond with Hector and show Odysseus that they were able to get along in a meaningless way. No more hatefulness, she was going to be the nicer version of herself with him and show that, despite that, nothing would be going on between them.

The shifting of meaning on the new thought strategy was about bonding from the side of her who was somewhat amazed to be meeting him, his little brother and their men. Being with them and for them the sweet girl that Hesione raised, not the daughter of Agamemnon. With that attitude as core, she could still find ways to be the secret helper of Achilles subtly working for his interests and his enamored woman secretly proving her feelings against the disbelief of the Itacan king.

Before they would all go to sleep without arriving at one clear path of solution, the princess made them accompany her to present herself in the section of the palace destined for the trojans.

The goal was reducing the threatening feelings of her men while putting the best of her into a relatively integral understanding. She showed up to wish them good night and apologize for the odd circumstances of their initial meeting, setting a space for a different encounter where she would put some effort into making everyone else feel comfortable with her presence.

Paris, as expected, made it harder than what it needed to be.

" My lovely, you came back to me once more!" He cheered to the mere sight of her, confusing the mycenaean guard. " I missed you, I almost got to think that you would be forced to hide from us by some command of your tyrannical father. "

The princess had to put in a big effort to stop herself from giving a mean reply.

" Paris, I was away for a few hours allowing all of you to settle comfortably. " She replicated. " My men are doing their duty, it's understandable that they will not trust more alone interactions between us untill comproving that it's safe for me. We were unprepared, atta sent me under a request of Penelope... Remember?"

" I believe you. '' Hector concluded for his brother. '' Agamemnon wouldn't lose an opportunity to brag and threaten us. Now that I'm sure that he isn't with you, I know that you were saying the truth. "

" You forgot to say that he wouldn't send a woman to do his work, he only humiliates himself when he is not aware of doing it. " She playfully completed his guess. " Getting to see those shame shows are the best part of being his subject... The worst is actually being ruled by him. "

They witnessed how her men laughed at the joke in relaxed freedom, as if it was born from some common sense shared by everyone. Hector was disconcerted by that. Paris, amazed at how similar her humor was to Odysseus'.

" Did you come to wish me goodnight?" He sweetly asked her. " That is so sweet of you, darling. Would you stay up late to sing me some lullabies?"

Confusion reigned among the mycenaeans. Was the youngest prince making jokes or was he really trying to flirt with their princess in their presence?

It had to be a cultural thing or he was mocking them for being worried, no one would be that foolish.

" I want us all to meet without making Ithaca pay the price. If we are going to argue, it will not be on Odysseus' table. " She simply explained, ignoring his teasing. " Tomorrow it's most likely that there will be a welcome party in your honor, let's try not to ruin it. Our issues as confronted nations don't have to impact our hosts. "

Once more, Hector was surprised to be agreeing with her.

" It's an excellent idea, your highness. What do you propose?"

" Mutual accountability, spot the sources of conflict before they could explode unexpectedly. We can later choose which ones to avoid and which ones could be approached maturely. "

Paris rushed into making the opening asks.

" I will go first, I don't want to disappoint the greek expert in conflict management. " He mocked her with certain praise. " My doubt is very simple... Is this how it is going to be between us for now on? I had so much fun talking to you before those gentlemen arrived to pull you out. "

" Don't blame them for doing their work. '' Hector replicated. " The lady is here to see her family, not us. We just have to find a way to coexist peacefully and you are also part of that. Facilitate their work and they will not be hostile towards you. "

Paris didn't answer him, he went straight to her.

" Am I doomed to see you only through a wall of vigilant men who hide you from me like if you were a treasure I could steal? " He complained. " I can't shake myself out of the pure amazement that causes meeting you, princess. Does that make me a criminal?"

" Give yourself some time to adjust and you will make it. " She kindly advised him. " Don't beg me to convince them for you, they are ríght there. Prove them that you aren't an obstacle for their labor."

As they all awaited expectantly to see how it would turn out, she directed a mischievous glance towards Hector. Both were equally interested in examining his reaction.

Paris tried to get some sense of complicity out of them.

" I know how this works, my cousin is one of the prettiest girls in Troy and I have seen men humiliating themselves for her in this position. " He commented to them. " You are no different from the palace guards who custody her whenever it's necessary and I'm aware that your job is to crush the hopes of men like me, but let me ask you something. Don't you get entranced by the beauty of your own princess? Who among you wouldn’t like to get the attention of a woman like her?”

The questions made everyone uncomfortable. The mycenaean men were equally amused and doubtful, not wanting to risk giving any answer.

" We can't answer that." One was brave enough to excuse all of them. " It would be very improper. "

" Ignore your duty for once, we are all men. " The young prince insisted. " I bet many of you would melt to a sweet smile of hers, or a warm furtive glance. She is gorgeous... Are you going to tell me that she isn't the city's crush?"

She answered to avoid laughing. .

" I'm nobody's crush. In normal circumstances wise men are afraid of talking to me. Any interest shown to me coming from a man that my father has no regards for is considered an insolence. Even the manservant who pours wine for him gets nervous if i simply smile at him and i can feel that he is fearing of losing his head. "

The grim, comedic tale wasn't scaring him.

" You are exaggerating, like with all those lies you said before to help the king pull a trick on us. "

" I'm not, Agamemnon is crazy." She simply stated with no one daring to contradict her. " You seem like a sweet man, Paris. For your own good, stay away. It's what most men do and it works well for me and them."

It was a useful warning, but Hector couldn't help to find it a bit sad.

" I think you will not find space for loneliness here, there are just too many of us. " He joked, slipping a subtle hint of comfort in the mock. " You may start craving for it later, when our presence would tire you and overwhelm you. "

He had no obligations to do it, but he still chose to be sweetly welcoming with her. The gesture impressed her and she started to feel very bad with herself for being so awfully mean with him on their first meeting.

" I can get used to it. '' She said as a way to show how much she enjoyed that sign of acceptance. " I can't wait to properly meet everyone. I'm good at remembering names, but not so much with faces. However, I would like to be able to personally address every single one of you at least once during our time here. It's my way to go with everyone I know, regardless of rank. "

" I guess I can allow it as long as it wouldn't bother anyone. " He agreed. " Are there any reasons behind such specifical task that you are setting on yourself?"

" Everyone likes to be treated as people: being called by their names, told to have a nice day, asked about themselves and allowed to ramble about whatever they feel passionate about. They notice,even when it looks like they don't. "

Her kindness was unusual. The collective mood of the crew was to feel, at best, disconcerted and, at worst, impressed. Of all of them, Lysander was the one who kept the longest talking with her. The girl was easy to talk to and her demeanor was inviting, words flowed without worries because she allowed it. Paris watched the interactions happen and knew that he wouldn't be supported by his companions, but he was one step closer into being understood.

There was something adorably charming in her and most would have agreed to blame it on the contrast created between her kind ways and the horrible reputation of her family. No one there was fully capable of understanding how that sweet girl could be the daughter and niece of the Atreides, Troy's cruelest adversaries. The respect, her willingness to listen and to be questioned was the opposite of mycenaean policy.

Feeling stimulated by the open communication that she initiated, Hector saved for himself a very special question to ask her. It was on the mind of most of his men, but none dared to do it directly.

" I have only one doubt about you that I would want to ask without compromising Odysseus. It's a matter that has the potential to make us argue, so I prefer to deal with it now. " He politely introduced it to her. " ... What does Troy mean to you, princess?"

She knew precisely what he meant and was very excited to answer.

" I was wondering how long it was going to take for any of you to ask that. It doesn't offend me, it's a fair thing to question me about. I know where i come from: my father has seeked to destroy you for decades, my uncle has been his main helper. " She introduced her reply.

At that moment, it was hard to tell for the listeners if her words started to flow under self thought inspiration or if there was something or someone else driving her into a wonderful speech.

" If you are asking me and not them, Troy is an ancient living emblem of resistance that doesn't cease to amaze me. Enemies come and go, but your walls always stand strong as the last hope for everyone who dreams with a different world than the one my family wants to build. A leading power accomplished in the peace of trade by a nation that has the military power to crush anyone on it's way, but still chooses to use it only to protect what it has built. Do you have any idea of how unique that sounds for a greek woman, a mycenaean like me? The countless years of my life that I have spent under the care of my beloved Hesione may have induced me to idealize Troy, but I think that what you have is worth keeping. I'm not your enemy.. Or you can think I am and, from all your enemies, i'm the only one who wishes you well because i choose to remain in awe with the culture of your country. I love my city and respect the legacy of its history as any other mycenaean would, but I'm convinced that ours doesn't have to be the only way. As a nation that believes itself in ríght to rule the world because it's king convinced it of that, we could be doing so much better and there you are...May your walls stand high forever, keep challenging us to do better! Mycenae needs an opposed power for the sake of it's own improvement, a contrary force pushing our development and pointing at our flaws. For the wellbeing of Greece, my father needs to be reminded of his own mortality. "

Even her own men were amazed as if they would be hearing her speak for the first time. They weren't used to seeing that side of her. Despite the many glimpses of her hidden self that they got to discover during the journey, she never got political on their talkings or announced any speeches for them. It was a privilege, the mycenaeans realized what the trojans wouldn't.

Hector felt obliged to reply, but it was hard given the flawlessness of her words. He opted to speak frankly and give her his sincere impression.

" I never would have expected for a greek to speak in those terms about my country, even less that those praiseful words would come from a mycenaean. The image of us that you have pictured isn't faithful to our entire history, but it describes incredibly well the goals of my father's rulership. "

The route of the talk incentivised her curiosity and she found herself asking him her first question.

" Well, there are a ton of things that I always wanted to know about you... Historically speaking, was Laomedon that greedy or is that a greek invention? Hesione says that everyone was after his magical horses, but Agamemnon claims that he refused to pay the builders for their work. We all argued about that once, it was fun to see him losing his mind over the narration of a trojan tale. "

Lysander answered for the prince, being a bit amused himself while imagining the described situation.

" Both claims are true, but not mutually exclusive. " He kindly explained to her. " The builders wanted to be paid with his most beloved possession and King Laomedon refused. "

" Would you give to anyone a gift that you got from the Gods?'' Paris interrupted him and decided to follow the narration into his favorite part. " His family, our family, got those horses from Zeus thanks to my favorite ancestor: Ganymede. Have you heard about him?"

" The trojan equivalent of Europa. He had a better fate, being the replacement of Hebe on Olympus when she got married. "

" A young man of irresistible beauty, Zeus made him his only male consort. Ganymede reached immortality and left for us the gift of those magnificent horses. He was the prettiest man of his time and my inspiration in life. I like to think that I inherited the power of his beauty."

" Be careful. I have seen beauty appearing to be a blessing while hiding a terrible curse." The mycenaean girl warned him, thinking of Helen because he happened to remind her of her in a very strange way. He seemed to be unapologetically admitting that he dreamed of being her male counterpart.

Her words didn't affect him.

" Not to me, I'm a worshiper of Aphrodite."

His answer indicated how convinced he was of embracing his beauty as an identity that he built for himself following the tracks of his ancestry. She found it creative, but disconcerting. Paris was capable of finding freedom in the very same cause of Helen's imprisonment.

For as weird as it sounded, the fact intrigued her. She would have liked to keep a meaningful conversation with him about it where he could explain her the roots of his philosophy, but that wasn't the time for that.

" I don't want to brag, but It's most likely that I will be the prettiest man you will ever see. My ancestry and divine affinities confirm it. "

She rolled her eyes and the men bursted into laughter.

Since he was putting them in a good mood with his strange attitude, they decided to mix their mockery with some well intentioned words for him.

" Give up, trojan. Even if we would leave you all alone, you will never make it. '' Aphareus honestly advised him.

" Do you really know who you are talking with?" One of his companions followed him. " From all the greek ladies you could bother, you picked the only one who would never care to pay you any attention."

Eurybates provided the last punch.

" Not even Achilles got anything from her... What makes you think that you will?"

To his shocked face, she gave a briefly invented explanation.

" Knowing that I rejected a man who is your complete opposite shouldn't encourage you, that's why I didn't want you to find out about that story. "

" if there was a tale about him after all and it ended in his disappointment, I have to hear it." Paris requested and she knew that he was thinking it as a confirmation for all his wrong assumptions about her and his chances of success.'' Dealing with that barbarian must have been exhausting, give yourself the merit. "

" It would be rude to be pushing the telling of my insignificant acts before you two could get any chances to tell me of your remarkable feats. " She pointed out, wishing to deviate from the point quickly. " When we will have time and a comfortable setting to talk for hours , after Hector and your mutual friends would have started to narrate to me anecdotes of the war against the spartans, I may share with you the details of that single act everyone keeps praising me for. "

" But I'm intrigued now. " Paris childishly complained. " Can you do it for me??"

He was making that adorable expression again, his soft features looking even softer as he tried to convince her of staying and telling him the omitted story.

She smiled at him, but remained inflexible.

" Goodnight, Paris. See you tomorrow. "

His exaggerated sad frustration inspired him to make a middle ground offer.

" Can I at least get a kiss on the forehead to bless my rest ?"

Hector was the one rolling eyes then, pretending to not be hearing the nonsense of his brother because trying to stop him had proven to be pointless.

The princess turned back at her men, who were still evidently amused.

" What do you say? Can I do it or is it against the rules?" She joked with them. " We have to improvise some choices. It's not like Atta has an instituted code to deal with this. "

Some of the trojans also laughed with her then. Guessing that all the ideas on the greek side would be mocks to the prince, she continued.

" It's fine, I will solve it myself. "

Gesturally asking for space to head ríght at the expectant man, she seemed in willingness to fulfill the request.

" May Morpheus concede you a good night of sleep, young trojan lord. '' She said kindly and formally, but didn’t immediately pose her lips over the top of his forehead. " Sweet dreams. "

The look of frustrated child that he had inspired her to salute him as such, her kiss resembled the ones given to children at bedtime.

He was so dramatic that she couldn't help feeling a bit flattered. Having that effect on a man, with it being unwanted and not expected, was too strange for her. Still, unlike in their other flirtatious interactions, she felt something powerful in the way things played out. The room was full of men, but she was the one who took control of the situation and her farewell to the prince wasn't different from the one she gave to Telemachus before he went to bed. It felt like a powerful move, the main difference making her feel great afterwards.

The strong rush of confidence was nice, but she still had to think of a way to put a stop on the situation because she didn't want his attention. Joking a bit was alright, but Paris had to learn to stay away from her.

" Of course, I also wish to all of you a satisfactory rest to heal the marks that the exhausting journey left on your strengths. To get here I had to make my first sea voyage in a really long time and I arrived very tired. I had not boarded a ship in years and I never do long trips, so I can’t imagine how tired you must be now. " She said her general goodbyes to the crew and smiled afterwards. Most of the men in front smiled back at her.

Before doing her reverence for the exit, she made one last simple petition to the trojan leader.

“ Would you mind going outside with me? I will make it quick. There is something else we need to talk about and I fear it can’t wait, but it has to be in private.”

Hector guessed the topic and agreed anyway, following her out on the walk with her escorts until she gave them orders to give them space for their talking. A few of her men stayed in close proximity so that they could not hear them, but still keep an eye on her.

The lady spoke first, since both remained silent until she felt safe to do it.

“ Should I be worried about this? I want your personal opinion. Tell me your truth as the brother of Paris, I don’t want to hear the Prince of Troy.”

He tried to be honest and sound tranquilizing, but both goals were hard to handle on the same level.

“ He claims to have fallen in love with a different woman every week, what he calls love is definitely something else. He doesn’t mean bad, but hasn’t learned yet to differentiate love from passion. “

“ I don’t want to get involved with him in anything passionate. He has no idea of the implications in his attitude, the blissful ignorance warms my heart.” She confessed to him before proceeding to do a sad warning.” You know as well as me that Agamemnon wouldn’t tolerate it. It really doesn't matter if he is here or not, if he would see it with his own eyes or if it would be told to him … He would go crazy anyways, he has killed for less. I need to know that Paris will stop acting like this, for the sake of all of us. Please, you are the only one who can help me.”

Her good sense was good news for him. She seemed to be a wise woman, aware of the dangers that his brother wouldn’t care to spot. Even if he wouldn’t succeed in exhorting him to give up, she was willing to resist him as long as it would take.

“ Paris is persistent, but he accepts negatives. His problem is that he is pretty unused to getting one, so you will have to be consistent and patient until he will realize that you truly mean that. It’s most likely that he will wait until running out of seduction tactics.”

“ He must be used to getting anything he wants, I may have shaken him with the surprise of finding out that he can’t ask for the same treatment everywhere.”

The comment brought a short chuckle out of him, subtly letting her know of how right she was.

“ I need to be efficient at repelling him while watching over my manners. Do you know how hard is that to sustain? It’s too much pressure and you don’t deserve to stand my rudeness only because I don’t want your brother to think I’m into him. It’s just who I am! I like to be nice whenever I can, the world is already full of rudeness.”

" You can also be very rude at times. " The prince teased her, referring to her immediate reaction to him and waiting to see if she was going to finally give him a straight answer.

" Only when I'm mad... and I was mad with Odysseus because he didn't tell me that you were coming. " She confessed, opening a bit of her reasoning with him. Not much, but enough to be understood in at least one aspect. " He didn't have to tell Agamemnon, he just had to tell me!!"

The comment weirded him, it didn’t seem reasonable. Why would the king of Ithaca obviate Agamemnon and reveal crucial information directly to her ?

" Do you have that kind of relationship? Would he tell you things that he wouldn't tell him?"

" He knows plenty of things about me that I wouldn't tell him. " She gave a short explanation. " But he wouldn't risk his anger just so I could send Hesione back to her home. He knew that I would have tried it and he didn't wish to take chances. "

" A very noble feeling... but how is that less reckless than what Paris intends to do?"

" Because I know the consequences and I have guts to face them. " She replicated. " We have a very special bond that is hard to understand, I would do anything for her happiness. "

" Were you thinking about her during your speech? I couldn't help noticing that there was something very heartfelt in your way to speak about Troy. It's hard to understand how someone who has never visited my country can speak like that. "

" Nobody understands it. They have spent my whole life trying to get it and failed. " She playfully admitted. " Agamemnon thinks that it is a rebellious whim and Menelaus only understands the surface of it. He curses himself for being the one who brought her to Greece, you can think that she found her vengeance in the woman that I grew up to become. "

" The rumors that reach my gates don't mention anything of this." He confirmed it for her. " My father says that she was made your nurse, but I never believed it. To be honest, I thought that it was a tranquilizing lie that he told everyone when he came back from that failed rescue because he could do nothing more about it."

" I know what you are thinking, it wouldn't offend me to hear it because it is true. That version didn't fit for you because it doesn't fit their style. " She cut him off. " Menelaus wanted her to be a plaything for his brother, but I got in the way of their wishes. My mother chose her for me and it is the only of her orders that remained respected because we fought to not be separated."

" You must have fought too hard, because that sounds unbelievable. How could the mycenaean king have been convinced of letting his daughter be raised by a trojan slave? "

" He wasn't convinced, he never wanted that for me but when he had the opportunity to change that, it was too late. He tried to separate us, but i resisted and he didn't have the patience or interest to deal with me so he resigned to let us be. It's true that everything I love about Troy comes from her, but keeping her in any way was more important to him than the risk of my cultural corruption. She is everything he accomplished to steal from you. "

" This means that in your opinion, he only keeps her as a political message. " He summarized, gathering his conclusions with hers.

" ... It's also the personal punishment that he chose to inflict on her because he never got to touch her when she was young and desirable for him. "

He sensed the shame she was feeling while saying the last sentence. She couldn't even look his way, repulsed with herself for having to admit in front of him that her father was a rapist.

Hector showed once more his great capacity for empathy.

" If you helped in any way to stop that from happening, you don't have reasons for sorrow."

" She leads the domestic slaves now, its the best i could do for her once i became old enough to stop needing nursing. I couldn't give her freedom because that's not a choice he would let me take, but i make sure that she gets the respect that she deserves. My uncle is terrified of her. I think that she creeps him out and I love her for it, but he pretends to be fine because it doesn't look good."

"... Like when he pretended that i really didn't win the last of the spartan wars and he just retired because he was tired of fighting and wanted a break to get married? "

His joke relieved a bit of the inner tension that she was feeling. It was a non invasive way of showing kindness.

" Exactly like that. " She confirmed, feeling a bit at ease and reflecting it on her tone. " You know, I have a few ideas learnt from her that may work with your brother. Do I have your permission to give him a good scare?"

It was a surprising proposal. He would have never imagined himself joining forces with a mycenaean princess on the task of instructing Paris into less destructive choices.

" Do you think that you can make it better than Odysseus?"

" Nobody ever sees it coming. They see me choosing niceness and they think I can't be rude. " She snarked back. " You have seen me at both, so i guess i don't have to hide from you. "

Hector gave her a smile of approval.

" There is one last thing I need to get clear. It must be obvious to you by now that Paris doesn't have the same limits for fear of Menelaus. If you get an idea for a trick that could be potentially scary for your uncle, don't try it on him. Measure yourself, please. He is still my little brother. "

She nodded in agreement, giving him a sweet smile that was nothing more than her spontaneous reaction to his caring commentary. Shortly afterwards she saluted him with a respectful bow of the head and wished him goodnight, the act that closed the conversation and made both part ways.

The balance of the interaction was positive, it was good to know that he would be helping her to keep things in order during their stays. She also got the impression of reaching a basic point of mutual understanding with him.

The good feeling ran out to the sound of intruder chuckles. Melantho was the source, she was still awake and spying on her but didn't mind coming out from her hiding to take the credit for her mischief.

" Odysseus thinks that he is going to be your husband." She playfully commented about Hector. " He doesn't know what I know, but I hear many things here and there. "

The princess was horrified and fascinated in equal amounts.

" What are you doing here?"

" Eny asked me to be part of her explorative research on the new ones. " The slave girl claimed innocently. " ... Well, we stumbled across each other in our own separated ones."

" Let me guess, you were investigating Paris. "

" More or less. " She vaguely admitted before stepping into completely improper territory. " Are you excited for the party? Who are you looking forward to dancing with tomorrow: Hector or Paris?"

" Neither of them. I may be a grown up, but i'm too busy for boys."

" Bussy with what? It's not like they let you do much back in Mycenae. " Melantho teased her carelessly. " Too bad that you wouldn't answer, I know things you may find interesting. Stuff that Telemachus would never find out for you and, even if he would, you would never get to hear from him."

She smiled out of pure joy while hearing the news, despite that it came from a certain attempt of blackmail from Penelope’s favorite that also implied some degree of jealousy that said girl felt regarding her son.

That girl wasn’t a completely trustable source, but she was desperate for information that could help her to be one step ahead of her friend for once. It was clear to her that Melantho wanted her attention and found on that a way of getting it.

" Do you have any insight on Odysseus' plans? I could use some clues. "

Melantho bited her lips to hide the excitement and restrained herself to turn the gesture into a devilish smirk.

" Make me a good offer and we can start a negotiation."

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animeomegas · 3 years

Text

Omega!Narutoverse Future Family Headcanons

This is a compilation of my headcanons about future families for my favourite Naruto boys (excluding Kakashi who is childfree in my headcanons.)

This is very long, so I’ve put most of it under a cut <3 Enjoy~

Naruto: : 4 children – Son (omega), adopted daughter (alpha), twin sons (betas).

Has his son about four years before he becomes Hokage.

His son is a huge daddy’s boy type and clings to Naruto every chance that he gets.

Naruto never lets his role as Hokage take him away from his son any more than absolutely necessary. Does he take his son into his office? Absolutely. He puts down a little play pen on the floor while he works :’).

His son loves cuddles so much and he is so gentle.

He doesn’t like pranks though which makes Naruto a little sad but he would never do anything to make his little one sad.

Male omegas can be identified from birth, so you both knew he was, but even if you didn’t it’s very obvious. He makes his own little nest next to Naruto’s but ends up crawling into Naruto’s for cuddles every time.

As he gets older, he attends the academy, but he hates it so much. He reminds me a little of a young Itachi, a pacifist to the core. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone! He begs you and Naruto to let him attend the civilian school, and of course you let him.

Naruto gets a lot of shit for allowing this from some parties *cough* the council *cough*. The Hokage’s children should be powerful ninjas according to them, but Naruto will always prioritise his children’s happiness. Naruto shields his son from the hate as much as possible, but some slips through.

The transition is easier if you are a civilian, your son feels a little more secure if that’s the case, and he would consider following your footsteps depending on what you do. If you run a little business, he would definitely want to work with you. If you’re also a ninja he can feel left out and unsure, but he grows into such a quietly confident person, who starts a little business.

Not being a ninja also means he can be there for his younger siblings. He is a dedicated older brother who is always there for them. He has a room for each other them at his house and loads of medical supplies for when they come back from missions injured and won’t go to the hospital. He always patches them up.

All his younger siblings respect him so much. He is a very reliable person, and his siblings get so offended if they hear any anti-civilian talk from the ninjas they work with.

When Naruto is about a year into working as Hokage, he goes to visit the orphanage, a place that he reformed hugely as soon as he could. It’s so much nicer than it was and he’s so happy.

But there is one girl that he sees there, and she’s being bullied by some of the other kids. At only three years old, Naruto’s heart breaks for her. Turns out that she’s being teased for being a female alpha. Times have changed a lot, but there are still some horrible stereotypes about male omegas and female alphas, even if those aren’t the norm anymore.

He intervenes and wipes away her tears, uncomfortably reminded of his own stay at the orphanage when he was her age. He wraps up the visit and leaves, but he just can’t get here out of his head.

He’s been wanting another child, but he’s still in a vulnerable position so early into being Hokage that he can’t afford the time off for maternity leave.

Hesitantly, he brings up the idea of adoption to you, when you respond positively, he’s like great 😊, I have one picked already.

It’s only about a fortnight later that you’re picking her up and bringing her home. At first, she is very shy and reserved but when she gets comfortable, you learn that she is the opposite.

She’s very forthright and opinionated, she always says what she feels and stands up for injustice.

Her favourite thing is to come home and tell you and Naruto about her day. She never leaves out any detail and has been known to demand to go and see Naruto while he’s working so that she can tell him about something that happened at school.

Naruto ends up unwillingly up to date with all the academy drama.

She’s quite serious and likes to have grown up conversations and sit at the grown ups table.

She ends up attending the academy and she just thrives on all the history and politics lessons! She great at negotiating and learning about people.

She makes strong friends and has a tight knit friendship group that she keeps all the way to adulthood.

She ends up making Chunin pretty quickly but waits a long while before taking the Jounin exam. She ends up specialising in international relations.

She works as an ambassador for Konoha and gets to travel around all the countries. She adores her job, but she does sometimes miss her family. Naruto gets sad when he sends her for long missions, knowing that he can’t come and see her for that time, but there’s no one he would trust more to act on behalf on Konoha and she always brings back souvenirs for everyone.

The twins are quite a bit younger than the other two. Six years younger than their older sister, and eight years younger than their older brother.

In a better position now, Naruto wants to try for one final child.

Of course, you get twins.

It takes a bit of re-planning, but Naruto is overjoyed at the fact that he’s pregnant with twins! He gives birth to identical twin boys. You can’t tell from birth whether a baby is a male alpha or male beta, and they end up showing signs of being betas when they’re about 12.

These boys are little troublemakers, and Naruto rejoices and finally having some of his children who likes pranks like he does!

They excel at strategy and trap making when they join the academy but the oldest struggles a little with the more academic side.

Naruto is so patient in helping him because he knows what it’s like to be a physical learner in an academic environment.

They are the babies of the family and they get away with everything haha.

When they end up graduating, they are put on the same genin team and they continue to work together for their entire careers. They are similar to Izumo and Kotestu. They know each other so well and both have complimentary skills, so they make a formidable duo on the battlefield.

Naruto hates sending them on dangerous missions though. If they ever didn’t come back, I don’t think Naruto would recover, knowing that he sent them to the place that they died.

These two also definitely take on a genin team when they first get promoted to jounin, and they’re great teachers! I can’t decide if they would have one together, or if they would have one each and compete in ridiculous challenges like whose genin team can get the most d ranks done in one day.

They remind people of Kakashi and Gai in a lot of ways.

Sasuke: 1 child – daughter (beta).

Sasuke has a daughter in his late twenties, after he’s had some time to deal with his trauma.

He’s undeniably in a better place but he struggles badly with PPD, making the first year very difficult on your family.

Eventually things get better though, and you work together to raise your daughter.

She is wicked smart, very much into scholarly things, but she also loves weapons, particularly any sort of blade. Sasuke teaches her how to use a sword and they bond a lot over it.

She’s pretty quiet and withdrawn, preferring to read a book or practice with her weapons than socialise. Sasuke tries to get her to make more friends but she calls him out on being a hypocrite and he’s so offended that he drops the issue.

She does well in the academy but she lowkey hates going. She likes going more if either you or Sasuke are there to pick her up and walk home with her, she doesn’t like walking home alone because the Uchiha compound is so damn far away and isolated.

When she awakens her sharigan when she’s a chunin, Sasuke has a pretty bad reaction. The sharigan isn’t associated with anything good in his mind, so he freaks out when his daughter activates it. You need to give him some time and support and he’ll come around. He’s the only one who can train her after all.

Sasuke is so proud of his daughter when she makes Jounin, which of course, she does. I could see her taking on a powerful advisory role for the Hokage as a jounin.

She is someone who believes that there is a lot to learn from history, and is a great advisory asset in helping to avoid past mistakes.

Itachi: Canon = none / Non-massacre Au = 2 children. Son (omega), daughter (beta).

Has a son shortly after you get married.

Itachi is a family man through and through and can’t wait to retire from being a ninja (which he hates) to being able to raise his children full time.

The day Itachi gets moved from the active list to the reserves list after he becomes pregnant is one of the happiest days of his life.

His son is very responsible and serious.

He likes to follow Itachi around and help him clean and cook and run errands. He always tidies up his toys and keeps his room clean, and he almost always behaves respectfully and sensibly.

Itachi never forces him to do too much though, he wants his son to have a fun childhood like he never had.

Itachi is over the moon when his son shows an interest in calligraphy, happy that his son is picking up a healthy hobby.

He buys him all the supplies and gets him a teacher if he wants one. It warms Itachi’s heart to see his son interested in something other than chores for once.

Despite the pressure from the clan for his children to attend the academy, Itachi puts his foot down for one of the first times in his life, saying that his children will only become ninja if they want to.

His son does in fact want to attend the academy.

Itachi kind of wishes he didn’t.

Itachi’s son shows a huge proficiency for fuinjutsu, his calligraphy skills coming in handy. Seeing as the skill is so rare, he becomes one of the leading experts in Konoha.

Itachi is very supportive and lowkey glad that his son is so powerful and can defend himself. Itachi is also very glad that his son can continue with his fuuinjustsu passion long after he retires from being an active ninja.

Itachi hopes that safety net (producing seals for other ninjas and continuing to earn money from his hobby) will mean his son can retire whenever he wants and not have to worry. Rather than becoming stuck in the shinobi lifestyle.

Itachi’s daughter is born five years after his son, an age gap that was larger than he would have liked, but he had a pretty traumatic birth the first time around and he needed to give his body some time to recover.

Itachi puts a lot of emphasis on a loving relationship between his children, and his daughter adores her older brother so much! She follows him around and tries to copy him all the time, and he help her with homework and plays with her.

It makes Itachi very, very happy to see them bond.

Itachi’s daughter is a beta and has everyone wrapped around her finger from the moment she is born.

She’s charming, well spoken, and polite but with a very sarcastic personality.

She has a very similar sense of humour to Itachi actually. A sort of under the breath commentary style. Goodness help anyone who finds themselves opposing Itachi and his daughter.

Academy teachers get put in their place so fast when they join forces, the teachers don’t even know what happened.

As Itachi’s daughter joins the academy, she follows after her uncle and develops fangirls and fanboys… She’s very popular. Very popular.

And she loves it.

Itachi is not as fond.

He is not above staring coldly at children for badgering his beloved daughter.

When she grows up, she works as a ninja, favouring a more jack of all trades kind of style. She likes to learn a little bit of everything.

She’s the same way with relationships too. She never gets married or mated, preferring casual relationships and has no interest in children, she lives her life doing whatever she wants with whoever she wants.

Itachi is very proud of her, and secretly very amused when his clan constantly tries and fails to control her.

Shikamaru: 1 child – daughter (alpha)

Shikamaru has a child at about 25, and he knew from the get-go that he was a one and done kind of guy.

He’s not a fan at all of the infant stage and does not want to do it more than once.

The Nara clan have a very high proportion of alphas, so Shikamaru kinda expected his child to be one. And lo and behold she was.

His daughter is the spitting image of him in every way. She is the most mellow alpha ever. So much so that most people assume she’s a beta, and she doesn’t really care enough to correct them about it.

She is also very close to her grandparents, who dote on her and spoil her as much as they can.

She excels at school in the same way her father did before her, retaining average marks despite being miles ahead of most of her peers.

Shikamaru teaches her how to play shogi and all about the beauty of napping. She takes to them both like a duck to water. She is so much like Shikamaru that everyone comments on it constantly.

Although, while she loves a good cloud gazing session with her father, she actually takes to creative writing as her favourite hobby. She uses a pseudonym to avoid attention, but she ends up writing a series of books that becomes one of the most popular book series in the shinobi nations.

Shikamaru is so insanely proud that his daughter can have both a successful ninja career and a successful hobby/side career. He brags to anyone who knows her pseudonym constantly, including you and his parents.

He also keeps a set of first edition, signed copies of all her books. He reads them when she’s away on long missions sometimes, as a way of feeling closer to her.

Shikamaru and his daughter remain incredibly close all their lives.

Shino: 1 child – daughter (omega)

Shino had a child slightly later than most of his friends, at around 34.

Shino’s daughter is a very curious child! She’s quiet and withdrawn around strangers but very talkative with her family and close friends.

Her favourite place to be is on Shino’s lap. And when around strangers, she always hides behind him, or buries her face into his shoulder.

Shino loves to spend time with his daughter outside. He teaches her all about insects and plants, leading her around the woods after when she can still barely walk.

Shibi does the same with her, and those two are very close.

Shino is fiercely protective of his daughter, and never forces her into doing things she isn’t comfortable with. He defends her right to be quiet and clingy, and it takes some convincing to get him to understand that she needs to make friends outside of her immediate family.

When she cries for anything, Shino gives in straight away, as long as she isn’t wanting to do anything extremely dangerous. Because of this, she develops quite the sweet tooth, having had as many cookies as she wanted as a child.

Shino’s daughter ends up teaching at the academy as a career chunin, because despite being shy around adults, she is fantastic with children, very patient and understanding.

Shino is very happy with her choices, because he was a little worried that she would end up scarred from a shinobi career, and he hates any situation in which he can’t protect her.

She has her own children pretty young, and Shino is just a good a grandfather as he is a father.

Neji: 2 children – adopted daughter (beta), adopted son (alpha)

Neji is about 30 when he decides he wants to try to have a baby.

And he’s 32 when he finally comes to terms with the fact that he isn’t going to be able to conceive naturally because of the suppressant abuse he endured as a child.

Then, tragically, one of the branch members of his clan dies giving birth. Her mate can’t handle the stress and dies shortly afterwards, leaving their two-year-old daughter and newborn son behind.

Dying after a mate dies is not super uncommon but is much rarer in the cases where children are involved, so this exact situation doesn’t happen very often.

His heart breaks for them and he is close to begging you to adopt them with him.

And soon enough you have two children, siblings, and both Hyuugas like Neji.

You would never forget Neji’s face when he held his children for the first time. He would never let them be branded with the seal that has impacted his life so much. He would sooner run away from the clan forever.

Neji’s daughter takes a little while to adjust to her new parents, still distraught and grieving over the loss of her previous parents.

Neji understands and gets her a therapist, but he finds it difficult to watch his child suffer.

The first time she crawled into bed with you and Neji after a nightmare, Neji cried because she was finally starting to trust you both.

Neji’s daughter is a beta and when she recovers from her childhood trauma, she shows her true colours as a limelight lover!

She loves acting and dancing and singing whenever and wherever she can. She plans little plays for you and Neji, sitting you down to perform them for you every weekend. Neji is very proud!

But he doesn’t really know what to do when his daughter says she doesn’t want to be a ninja.

He loves and supports her, of course, but he’s thrown off, not really expecting it.

Eventually, he agrees to send her to a civilian school, and she immediately flourishes there, making so many friends, even starting a little after school performance style club.

Neji is so incredibly proud when she makes it as a famous actress. He lowkey brags constantly to his friends.

“Oh, your child just got promoted to chunin? How lovely. My daughter made more money this year than any chunin will see in their life…” Sips tea.

Neji’s daughter is so glamourous and outgoing and famous, but she never forgets her family, and loves to spoil you, Neji and her younger brother with her money.

Neji’s son doesn’t remember his biological parents and fits into your family seamlessly from day one. As far as he’s concerned, you and Neji are his only parents.

Just like his older sister, this boy is very extroverted, but rather than singing all the time, he talks. He’s the chattiest person you could ever meet.

Introverted Neji isn’t 100% sure about how to parent such extroverted children, he just doesn’t understand that they don’t enjoy too much solitary activity time.

He’s feels a lot better if you’re an extrovert, that way, he can have some alone time to recharge while you handle the children.

If you’re also an introvert… well, let’s hope Hinata was serious about her babysitting offer.

Neji’s son talks to everyone as I already mentioned, and adults think he is the cutest thing ever.

As he grows up, he always helps old people carry their shopping, he helps lost children find their parents, he is basically the alpha every parent dreams of their omega child bringing home.

He’s very charming and Neji is a lot less surprised when his son says he doesn’t want to be a ninja.

Eventually ends up working in the orphanage.

The children adore him so, so much, and he loves his job dearly.

Neji brags about him too.

“Wow, your child got top marks in the academy? My child was hand-making birthday gifts for some children at the orphanage when he was 11. He decided to do it all by himself…” sips more tea.

Whenever she’s in Konoha, his older sister turns up and gives all the kids at the orphanage gifts. She’s like a fun, rich aunt for all of them.

Neither of Neji’s children have children of their own, as they find their respective careers to be the most fulfilling thing for them.

Neji is a very proud father and is happy when his children are happy.

Iruka: None, or 2 children (he’s happy with either) – adopted son (omega), adopted daughter (omega)

Iruka would be happy with no children because he’s so dedicated to his work and his students, but he also adores children and wouldn’t mind having some of his own. This is an au in which he decides to have children.

He adopts his son at age 27, pretty soon after the war, choosing to adopt an older child who has less of a chance of being adopted.

A six-year-old omega with a bright smile and loud laugh, Iruka is immediately taken with him. The war had left many orphans, and it was hard on Iruka to walk around the orphanage, knowing he couldn’t adopt them all.

Iruka throws as much love as he can as his new son, taking time off work to bond with him properly, making sure to scent him loads and get him used to his new family environment.

Iruka is thrilled when his son shows a knack for pranks.

He plays the disapproving parent in public, but honestly, he loves it, as long as things don’t go too far.

Iruka’s son is a very kind-hearted person, if a little rambunctious, and he also has a huge nesting instinct.

You knew he was an omega when you adopted him, but it was very clear, nonetheless. He has a permanent nest in his room that he likes to chill in with his friends when they come over (he’s very popular with the other kids in his class.).

When he gets a little older, he goes to the academy, walking to and from every day with Iruka, and develops a passion for medicine when he’s a genin.

He has great chakra control and eventually ends up working full time at the hospital as an adult.

He chose a similar path to Iruka, in that he works as a ninja but is primarily based in the village, rarely leaving on missions.

He makes sure to come home for dinner at least once a week after he’s moved out, no matter how busy the hospital gets.

Iruka is so proud that his son is so talented and selfless, that sometimes it makes him tear up.

Iruka knows that he doesn’t want just one child.

When his parents died, he was all alone and it was horrible for him, so he knows he wants to have two children, so that when you and him die, they’re not alone.

Iruka is very ready to adopt again about two years after he adopted his son.

Iruka found the adoption process so rewarding that he wants to do it again over having a biological child.

He adopts a little girl this time, five years old and also an omega. When Iruka was meeting the children, this girl brought him a paper flower that she had folded as a gift and his heart just melted right then and there.

She fits in perfectly to your family, your son adored her immediately!

With three omegas living in your house now, you were very much outnumbered. It was a common occurrence to find yourself missing all your warm clothes, them having been borrowed and buried inside one of the three nests (minimum) nests in your house.

Iruka’s daughter is a gentle soul, but she is also strong. She appears like an easy target because she is soft spoken and reserved but she has a strong sense of justice and always stands up for herself and others.

When she’s young, she likes the idea of going into medicine like her older brother as she admires and looks up to him, but she doesn’t like the realities of the job very much.

She’s great at chakra control, but the idea of wrangling disobedient, injured shinobi doesn’t appeal to her.

Until one day, on her way home from a friend’s house, she finds an injured stray dog. She brings it home and begs you and Iruka to keep him. So, your family of four turns into a family of five, and she becomes obsessed with veterinary medicine.

As an adult, she ends up working at the veterinary clinic in the Inuzuka compound. She is committed to helping as many animals as she can, with a particular soft spot for dogs.

She also joins the rest of her family for dinners at least once a week. Iruka is so overwhelmingly proud that he has two medic children, because he knows how talented you have to be to do that.

He is also very happy that both his children stay mostly within the village. The war made Iruka a little paranoid, and he doesn’t worry so much when his children are safe within the village walls.

Gaara: 2 children – daughter (alpha), son (alpha)

Gaara has his children the youngest out of everyone his age that he knows. He had his daughter when he had just turned 21, and his son five years later when he was 26.

His daughter is Gaara’s sweetheart.

He adores her so much and spends as much time as he can with her. He is so gentle with her and loving all the time.

Gaara’s daughter is very energetic and playful, but also quite sensitive.

She loves positive attention, loves to play with everyone who will engage with her.

She’s a very family-oriented person and loves spending time with Kankuro and Temari when you and Gaara are busy.

However, because you, Gaara, Temari and Kankuro always treated her so gently, she was quite sensitive to people being angry or shouting at her.

Once, her teacher at school shouted at her for talking in class and she ran straight to the Kazekage’s office crying. Gaara was furious. He hates when his children cry, so much. He let her stay with him for the rest of the day to calm her down, sending you a message to let you know he was looking after her.

Gaara’s daughter visited him constantly, often bringing little lunchboxes of food for him, learning to new recipes constantly.

Trying to surprise him, she develops a great skill in cooking.

She decides, in the end, not to follow the shinobi route. She opens her own restaurant in Suna, charming customers with her amazing hostess skills and phenomenal cooking.

She allows all her family to eat for free, but they all pay anyway, because they love to support her. Gaara, especially, always leaves a huge tip for her and her staff.

Gaara’s son is born five years after his daughter, another alpha, leaving Gaara very outnumbered, with both his siblings, his mate and his children all being alphas.

Gaara’s son is very quiet and tactile.

He loves cuddles and hugs but doesn’t speak very much.

He enjoys spending time with Gaara in Gaara’s nest, despite not having nesting instincts of his own.

Gaara’s son is very close to you and Gaara. He always tells you when something is bothering him, and although he doesn’t speak much, he chooses his words carefully and they always mean something.

He actually excels at shinobi school, both in academics and in sparring, and moves up the ranks quickly. He spends a lot of time training with Kankuro and gets into puppetry.

Even when he becomes a jounin, he spends time with Gaara in his nest, still loving physical affection.

Gaara enjoys hosting family gatherings for everyone, his daughter cooks loads of dishes for it, his son makes sure to take time off missions to attend, and sometimes Temari drags Shikamaru to Suna as well to join them all.

Gaara smiles more often than not now, feeling so proud of the life he crafted for himself, and the family he worked hard to create.

(Phew! That was a lot! I hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thought and send me your own headcanons!!! <3)

580 notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

the guy at the rock show

she/they reader x Spencer Reid

request for @boba-king-iroh ♥︎

summary: Y/N lost their parents when they were 17, finding a new home and solace in Penelope Garcia and taking the Garcia name. They're the top forensic specialist in D.C, in a band and they drive a motorcycle... not to mention they are madly in love with the cute doctor who works with their sister.

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions, friends to lovers, idiots in love, PDA, secret relationships

word count: 5666

a/n: there will be a smutty part 2 eventually because I can't not do that

THE PLAYLIST THAT GOES WITH THEIR SETLIST IF YOU WANT TO LISTEN WHILE YOU READ

Read on Ao3 here!

Taking Garcia’s last name wasn’t something they had to think hard about, Penelope basically raised them; she was like a sister, a best friend and a mother, even a bit of a fairy godmother to Y/N.

They met when Y/N was 17, they were sitting at a support group for dead parents in D.C. Right beside the lovely, overly cheerful, always helpful, Penelope Garcia. At first, Y/N couldn’t stand her, wondering how a person like that could be running a group for mourning people, it made her sick.

It wasn’t until she heard Penelope’s story for the first time, knowing how similar it sounded to her own and how, actually, you can take your grief and turn it into something beautiful. After the meeting, they pulled Penelope aside and gave her a big hug and a thank you.

It was the start of a lovely friendship, one Y/N didn’t know they needed until they were smothered in all the love you could possibly imagine.

The age gap between them wasn’t too big, Penelope was 10 years older than them which meant she was always one step ahead of Y/N and full of advice. Be it fashion, boys, girls and everything in between. They bonded in a way that was unbreakable, they were each other's family.

Penelope even helped her get into med school before she eventually switched to forensic science. Taking on the FBI academy, unlike Penelope, and joining the bureau officially. Penelope was there for her every single step of the way, making her career possible. She loved her dearly and wanted Y/N to succeed more than anyone in the world.

Getting to introduce herself to people as Agent Y/N Garcia, not to be confused with technical analyst Garcia, was one of the best feelings in the world.

Not many people ever mistook them, however, for whatever Penelope was, Y/N was the exact opposite.

Y/N preferred all black everything, she didn’t enjoy partying or close contact or the in-your-face-ness of Penelope’s way of life, she loved her band and motorcycle and being alone. They were quote-unquote edgy, not just for effect, but because it was how they felt the most comfortable, it was who they were and they liked it that way.

They were possibly the best Forensic Specialist the FBI had, keeping her in DC for all the most important cases. Helping her avoid Penelope and the BAU team as much as possible. They were great people, she didn’t hate them at all, it was just a lot of energy that they didn’t have to give to 7 other people all day long.

Spencer was the only one she could tolerate. Rather, he was the one she wanted to spend the most time with, even more than Penelope. He understood Y/N in a way others didn’t.

He was also quiet, like them, he didn’t pick on them or call them mini Garcia, baby-baby girl, or infant as some of them started to call her more recently.

He called them Y/N, he talked to them about star trek whenever he was visiting Penny, and he respected their pronouns. Using both she and they interchangeably, when he spoke of them, unlike most people who only used she and her because it made more sense in their small brains.

However, she wasn’t the only one who got teased. Spencer did as well, almost more because he was around the BAU team constantly. She hated hearing them bully him, he didn’t even count it as bullying but it’s basically what it was sometimes.

They put him down, they didn’t clue him in on things, they called out his stims and didn’t let him finish his sentences, especially when it had to do with his hyper-fixations. He was the brightest light in the room and they just picked his brain till he wasn’t useful anymore, before trying to turn out the light. It made Y/N furious.

They got called Mr and misses genius when they were on a scene together, remembering the first time she ever had a case with the BAU which was also the first time she snapped at someone for being mean to Spencer.

Someone asked Spencer a serious question, to which he did his fucking job and answered. Giving as much detail as humanly possible, being the absolute genius he is and should be praised for, only to have Emily poke him in the cheek and say; “wow, he’s so life-like?”

“Well yeah, cause he’s a fucking human who deserves respect from the people who use his brain all day,” Y/N cursed under their breath from the crime scene, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Leaving the sweetest man on earth to find them later and give them a hug. Thanking them for all that they do, and appreciating what he has to offer. That’s when she realized she liked him, more than just the guy who sometimes sleeps on her couch because he’s friends with her sister.

It was difficult being surrounded by men unlike Spencer, specifically the older men in her field who didn’t understand anything outside of money, guns, and violence. The worst part of the job being the politics in the background; the hierarchy and ass-kissing all because she worked in the nation's capital.

They were sure it was probably better in a smaller facility, a local police station where no one knew her and they could finally have some peace and quiet.

But she’d miss Penelope, and Spencer too for that matter.

At first, they’d hide in their room when Penelope brought him over for movie nights or when he crashed on the couch after bringing her home drunk from the bar. In the early days, she worried that he was going to be her new boyfriend, taking all of Penelope’s free time and leaving Y/N with nothing.

But then he started coming over all the time just to hang out, sitting on the couch with nothing to say, being the third wheel while Y/N and Penelope spent time together. For the last 7 years.

Over that time they had many conversations alone, she learned that he was really smart, he was a lot younger than most of the team because he blew through high school by the time he was 13, and he was genuinely the sweetest man in the whole entire world.

One time, Penelope was running late when Spencer showed up at the door with chips and candy, ready to watch his weekly movie with his friend. Only she wasn’t going to make it home in time, and Y/N didn’t want him to have to go back to his apartment all alone.

“You can come in and watch it with me if you wanted to?” She offered, smiling softly. “What was it you picked for tonight?”

“It was Penelope’s night to choose, so you can pick instead if you want?” Spencer offered right back, walking in like he owned the place.

He was more confident now than he was in the beginning, but that was probably because he was 23 and she was 18.

Back then he’d barely look at her and sometimes he’d shake when they made eye contact or when she got drunk and hugged him goodbye after a long night with Penelope. He was like that with Penny in the early days of their friendship too, apparently, so she didn’t feel too bad about it.

He warmed up eventually, making her wait 7 years for him to do something about the growing feelings they both shared.

“You like Marvel movies right?” She bit the inside of her lip as she waited for his answer. Watching him walk around the kitchen for a bowl that he could put his snacks in.

“Yeah they’re great, I haven’t watched past the second Thor, I think the next one is another Captain America?” he’s all smiles as he joins her on the couch, closer than normal, as close as he’d sit with Penelope, but then again she was a cuddler and Y/N wasn’t.

Sometimes Y/N would come out of her room to find Spencer’s head on Penelope’s lap, resting on a pillow as she ran her fingers through his hair to soothe his perfect mind after a long day. A few times she’s walked in on him crying or even sound asleep in her arms. They had a friendship Y/N admired, they were each other's person.

They comforted each other in the exact way they needed it; Penelope giving him the physical touch he craved and he would often compliment her. He was always telling her she was the best and buying her gifts to show his appreciation, calling her the most beautiful and smartest person he knew. He knew that she needed to hear it, needed the reassurance that she was still a good person and he made her believe it.

It made Y/N love him more seeing how much he cared for her sister.

“The winter soldier is the best!” She gushed, sitting close so they could share the chips as she waited for the movie to load up.

He was very quiet when he watched movies, smiling and laughing at the right parts but typically he paid so much attention it was like he was a statue. Y/N spent more time glancing at him than the actual movie.

“Is there something on my face?” Spencer asked, nervous when he noticed her glance at him for the 100th time that night.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she panicked lightly, swallowing quickly before looking away.

“What?”

“I don’t know, I just think you’re fascinating,” she whispered because then she didn’t really say it, and it didn’t really count.

“Oh,” he smiled softly, leaving it at that and forcing his attention back on the movie.

After a while, Spencer started to get even closer. He put the bowl on the coffee table and sat back almost on top of her, reaching an arm behind the couch so that Y/N was right against his side. He had done it with Penelope before, confident in this little living room, almost forgetting it was Y/N beside him.

Y/N rested her hand on his knee, rubbing her thumb over his jeans in a soft little circle as she pretended to watch the movie. More concerned with Spencer’s breathing and the feeling of his hand inching towards their shoulder than anything else.

Then they heard keys at the front door. Pulling away from each other quickly to curl up on opposite sides of the couch and pretend they weren’t just cuddling.

“Hey, you still came!” Penelope cheered, a little drunk from whatever she was doing before.

“I’d never miss a night with the Garcia’s,” Spencer smiled at her, looking calm and collected as ever while Y/N turned bright pink.

“Oh, I love Bucky! Oh my god let me go change and I’ll come watch too!”

That was just the first time they ended up cuddling, certainly not the last.

—

It wasn’t often that Penelope was too busy to spend time with Y/N, rather the contrary. Sometimes Y/N had to beg her to leave her be at certain events. Like when their band was playing at any of the local bars and Penny started inviting everyone she knew to come and watch her sister play.

It was embarrassing, to say the least, but Y/N loved her support.

When Y/N peaked her head out to see the crowd before a show, normally Penelope was sitting in the front with a drink and at least 4 friends, cheering and chanting their name, ready to rock out to their covers.

Tonight she didn’t see Penelope at all, she knew she wouldn’t, Penelope was in London visiting Emily with Derek for the second time in the past year, leaving no one to come to the monthly show Y/N’s band put on, or so she thought.

Spencer came all by himself.

He was sitting in the front, at a table with a bowl of pretzels and a ginger ale, not interested in the drinking or the socializing, just there to support Y/N. It made her feel giddy, like a schoolchild seeing their crush at recess.

It was so nice of him that it gave her butterflies, and normally that didn’t happen. They could go on and play a show in front of ten thousand people and feel nothing, but the second Spencer Reid was there to cheer them on, they were a mess.

“What song are we doing first again?” Y/N asked Evie, their lead singer and best friend outside of work.

“Who are they?”

Y/N was taken aback, “What?”

“You’ve never been nervous, who came to see you?” Evie clarified her question.

“No one, for fuck sake, I thought we left all the profilers at home tonight?” she sighed, shaking the nerves out of their body as they jumped up and down lightly.

They paced back and forth for a few minutes to wear down the nerves but only managing to make herself sweat to death and discard the leather jacket she always wore on stage. She walked in a circle aimlessly, remembering the setlist in their mind and how the spotlights typically made it so they couldn’t see the crowd anyway so it’s not like she could fuck up by making eye contact with him.

And it’s not like it was the first time he had seen her play, Spencer comes every month with Penelope, he liked a lot of the music they covered from when he was an emo teen in university. They’ve bonded over it before sharing albums and records back and forth, but she was still scared shitless at the prospect of him caring about her enough to come alone.

Especially when he hated being in situations like this in the first place.

It was their turn to go on, the manager of the bar gathering them and telling them to go on and so Y/N started walking towards the stage door, only to be pulled back harshly by Evie’s cold hands.

“Don’t forget your sticks, god who do you wanna fuck so bad it makes you this stupid?” She placed the drumsticks in Y/N’s hands, “get it together.”

“Sorry, it’s the guy in the sweater vest, front row,” they whispered in response, putting their head down and heading to the stage before she could tease them about it.

“The Forensic Lyricists are here once again folks!” The Manager introduced them to the crown, “get ready for them to dig up some classics!” Always the same dumb joke before every show.

Opening with crushcrushcrush by Paramore, thank god she remembered, it was an easy song to play as they warmed up and pushed the nerves away. They could play it in their sleep, with their eyes closed, and so that's what they did.

Eyes closed, mouthing the words as the adrenaline of the night took over the anxiety and made them go insane, like most nights. They didn’t need drinks or drugs to feel hyped at most shows, all she needed was a smile from penny and a good luck text from Spencer.

Playing by memory until she felt more confident and then getting into it. “They taped over your mouth, Scribbled out the truth with their lies, your little spies…”

“Crush, crush, crush, crush crush two, three, four!!” Y/N sung backup for each chorus, finally getting into it.

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again.”

They tried their hardest to push the images of that night on the couch with Spencer out of their mind as they sang along, trying to harmonize and cover the backup for Evie as best as she could.

“Let’s be more than this now!”

She always took the bridge, as the drummer and the most passionate one, it only made sense. Y/N always got the crowd on their feet, roaring along as they jumped to the beat.

“Rock and roll, baby, Don't you know that we're all alone now? I need something to sing about. Rock and roll, hey! Don't you know, baby, we're all alone now? I need something to sing about! Rock and roll, hey! Don't you know, baby, we're all alone now? Give me something to sing about!”

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again, let’s be more than, noOoo!”

She had a crush on Spencer fucking Reid and one now noticed as they tried their hardest to focus on the words when all that came to mind right now was his body heat and how good he smelled and how nice it was that he came to support them.

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again, Let’s be more than this, more than thiiiiiis, oooooooh, mmmmmmhmmm,” she sang the ending of the song along with Evie, their harmony sounding more perfect than any performance before.

Critics always said the performance is better when you mean the words you’re singing. With that, they accepted their crush on Doctor Spencer Reid after 7 long years of knowing him. They pushed through nerves so that they could go and see him after and do something about it, now that Penelope wasn’t home to tease her for it.

Leading right into Dear Maria, Count Me In. Their bass player, Kat taking the lead for her favourite song. Being an all ‘girl’ punk band was her idea, and now they all enjoyed taking turns singing their favourite songs in front of mostly strangers, once a month.

Every single song made her think of Spencer in some way as she remembered the rest of the set, it had 5 songs in total and each one included at least one reference to something she knew about Spencer.

It was hard to not think about him while he stood at the edge of the stage with everyone and bopped his head along to the beat, a smile growing on his face as he also noticed the little references to them in the songs.

The Rock Show by Blink182 was going to hit a little too close to home as she sang the words all but to him, making eye contact with him as he moved to the best spot to see them play, much like Penelope would do every time.

She didn’t realize how much this song actually represented her life before tonight, starting to sing her song alone while Spencer watched. Deciding on the spot to dedicate it to him in the most fucking obvious way possible, taking her chances because he must have come for a reason.

“Hanging out behind the club on the weekends. Acting stupid, getting drunk with my best friends, I couldn't wait for the summer and the Warped Tour, I remember that it's the first time that I saw him there!”

Spencer was smiling then, noticing the lyric change as they made eye contact, nodding along as he watched. Genuinely enjoying himself and the show, it was lovely to see. She couldn’t help but smile against the mic as she sang and played. Wondering how his face will change with the next verse she watched him from the corner of her eye.

Her bandmates turning to see her as they played their guitars, nodding in agreement at the lyric change, they knew what she was up to. It wasn’t the first time they used the stage to bring someone home with them.

“He's getting kicked out of school cause he's failing. I’m kinda nervous, cause I’m sure all his friends hate me! He’s the one, he'll always be there, I took his hand and I’ll make it I swear,

“Because I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town, I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!”

Spencer’s smile was priceless, it made them even more confident to sing all the words, wanting him with zero shame, it’s not like anyone who knew him would know about this.

“When we said we were gonna move to Vegas I remember the look your mother gave us 17 without a purpose or direction We don't owe anyone a fuckin’ explanation”

“Black and white picture of him on my wall, I waited for his call, he always kept me waiting, and if I ever got another chance I'd still ask him to dance, because he kept me waiting!”

“I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town,”

“I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!” She had never been this passionate while playing this song in all the years they had played it together.

Her bandmates taking the lead singing, “with the guy at the rock show!”

“I’ll never forget you,” she sang in the middle of their chants, “I’ll never forget you, I’ll never forget you, I’ll never forget tonight, I’ll never forget tonight…”

She shot a wink at him before turning back in her seat to face the drum set the best way. The last two songs were Evie’s and Kat’s, she covered the backup vocals, making the occasional glance towards Spence as she thought of him.

Counting down the minutes till she could go see him.

Come a little closer by cage the elephant, an obvious title with lyrics that would clearly bring every memory of brushed hands against lower backs as they slipped past each other in crowded rooms, lingering as long as possible before they were gone again. Goodnight hugs when Penelope was already asleep and he could hold her a big longer and tighter, resting his head on her shoulder while she rubbed his back and breathed him in. And that night on the couch, not to mention all the mornings she walked in on him sleeping peacefully, brushing the hair out of his face, softly, in the hopes he didn’t wake up.

“Come a little closer, then you'll see, Come on, come on, come on, Things aren't always what they seem to be… Do you understand the things you been seein' Come on, come on, come on! Do you understand the things that you've been dreaming… Come a little closer, then you'll see! Come a little closer, then you'll see!”

And even when he did she had a coffee ready for him when he sat up and smiled, giving them a few hours alone before Penelope would wake up. Talking all morning about star trek and dr. Who, smacking his knee as he made jokes that genuinely made them laugh while trying to keep her voice down so they didn’t wake Penelope.

Not many people made her feel like that in her life.

“Come a little closer, then you'll see! Come a little closer, then you'll see!” Staring at him, enticing him to do it the next time they had the chance.

The intro to I’d Do Anything by simple plan was one of her favourites to play, smiling wide as she began to drum as her best friends sang the words.

Waiting for the chorus to sing the words at Spencer, really sending the message, he wasn’t dumb, not in the slightest, he would get it. He had to, she had already been so obvious there was no turning back now.

“This could be the one last chance to make you understand,”

Her arms were starting to hurt as she played along with the most energy she has had in years, playing like a teenager whose parents just died and she needed to hit something, once again. It was freeing, playing with what she could only imagine was love in her chest instead of anger. It’s how she was supposed to play.

"I’d do anything Just to hold you in my arms To try to make you laugh Cuz somehow I can’t put you in the past I’d do anything Just to fall asleep with you Will you remember me? Cuz I know I won’t forget you,"

Focusing on the drumming and ignoring the lyrics as her bandmates covered the lyrics, letting her go hog fucking wild on the drum set, almost kicking the chair out from under herself as they kept going. Joining for the chorus again before beating the shit out of her drum set.

I close my eyes And all I see is you I close my eyes I try to sleep I can't forget you Na na na And I'd do anything for you Na na na Naaaaaaa

“I’d do anything!” She closed her eyes as she pushes the words past her vocal cords, again and again, passionately playing the drums as her hair flew all over the place, worried she might break the sticks as she played.

“Cause I know I won't forget yoooou!” She plays the end of the song, snapping the left drumstick in half before throwing the right one into the crowd, right into Spencer’s hand, sending him a wink before saying goodbye to the crowd.

Sweaty as hell from playing the drums, they brushed their long black hair back behind their ears and in a low ponytail so it would fit under her motorcycle helmet on the way home. Putting their leather jacket back on and heading into the main bar to find Spencer.

“Hey,” he smiled as she walked towards him, the drumstick now resting in his pocket as he approached her.

“I can’t believe you came here all by yourself?” Y/N laughed slightly before pulling him into a thank-you hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it, I’ve been coming for a year now, it’s always a great time,” his smile was perfect, his teeth were so white and straight and she wondered how they’d feel against her neck.

“It’s been that long?” She pretended that she didn’t notice, biting their lip as he ran the calculations in his mind.

He nodded with a soft, pressed-lipped smile, the Spencer classic. “Yep, it’s been exactly 14 months straight now.”

“I know you don’t like bars and loud noises and people you don’t know, or germs which makes this like a nightmare of yours I guess because of the close proximity of people and the germs being spread as everyone screams in a crowd,” she ranted before he was pulling her into another hug, “so this means a lot to me,” she finished her thought beside his ear for only him to hear.

“Anytime,” he whispered as he held her, his arm on her back and chin resting on her shoulder.

“Did you need a ride home?” She offered, thinking about how nice it would be for him to wrap his arms around their body as he sat behind her on Patsy, her motorcycle.

“Yeah, unless you wanted to go to your place and watch another movie? I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting,” he spoke just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Yeah, I’d love that, it’s been lonely while Penny’s gone,” a smile erupting on her face as she got the reference, “come on then.”

She took his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers and dragging him backstage towards her locker. She had a space to keep her things for practice and other shows she did during the week, keeping an extra helmet and jacket in the locker for nights like this, however, normally it was a cute stranger. Not the man she’s been crushing on since she was a teenager.

“Oh, you brought Patsy,” Spencer’s face went white.

“Did you not want to ride her? Come on, everyone wants to ride her at least once,” Y/N teased him as she put the helmet in his free hand.

Her bandmates staring at her with proud smiles as she took the guy from the rock show home; the one in the sweater vest from the front, the one who was the most into the whole show, they both gave Y/N a wave and a smile as they slipped out the backstage door.

They walked out to the parking lot, still hand in hand with their helmets in the other. Stopping at her dark purple Suzuki GS650 GT, it was her most prized possession because it used to belong to her parents.

She put her hair in the right spot before putting the helmet on, sitting down and starting the engine, revving it for everyone in the lot to see as Spencer put his helmet on and threw a leg over the seat, nervous as ever.

He fit behind her perfectly, just enough room on the seat for his chest to press against her back as he placed his hands gingerly on her hips. It made her laugh.

“You’re going to want to hold on better than that pretty boy,” she teased him before revving the engine once more, kicking the kickstand up and speeding out of the parking lot.

Spencer gripped her tightly as she took off down the street, taking the longest route possible to her home. She didn’t hit a single red light for at least 5 blocks, zooming through traffic as Spencer squeezed the life out of her.

He felt amazing, his hands were so big as he fully wrapped around her, reaching around completely so his right hand was on her left hip and vice versa. He was so close she could feel his heartbeat against her back.

He was nervous, he flinched every time she turned and held on even tighter somehow.

So she did another lap of the block, around the park’s bend so she could lean the bike as far as possible as Spencer’s fingers dug into her hips fiercely. Breathing deep enough that she could hear him over the engine, but he wanted her to keep going. Not ready to let go of her yet, this is the closest they had ever been to each other.

When she finally pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, they bumped over the curb and his hand grazed Y/N’s boob, he pulled back so fast it was barely there, she just shook her head and laughed. Parking the bike and putting the kickstand back down.

Spencer let out a sigh, relaxing against her as he rested his chin on her shoulder again.

“Have fun?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” he laughed, his voice deep and dry from breathing with his mouth open, it was cute.

He got off first when his legs were finally able to work again, still vibrating from the rev of the engine he walked like Ariel when she got her legs. It was priceless, no one has reacted like that after getting a ride from them, not even Penelope.

She took her helmet off while still on the bike, shaking her hair out of the ponytail as provocatively as possible before getting off. Spencer’s jaw fell open once more as he watched, breathlessly, just as she expected.

Either he liked them before and never told them, or he was going to start now.

Either way, it excited Y/N to their core, taking his hand once more and leading him inside, this time they could be as close as they wanted to and no one was going to walk in on it. She stopped at her locked apartment door, looking at Spencer as softly as possible so he’d know her feelings were real.

“I know this will cause the teasing we already get to skyrocket, so if you wanted to keep it between us, I fully understand,” she whispered.

“Is that what you want?”

He was so sweet it made her heartache, never before had anyone made her feel like this; like she wasn’t in control of her body or mind, like an override in the system her brain and heart chose Spencer and there was no stopping them.

“I just told a whole bar of people that I’m in love with the guy at the rock show before taking you home in front of everyone,” she laughed, “I don’t care if people know, I just hate when they tease us, they belittle everything we do like we’re 17 forever, it’s not fun for me.”

“I hate it too,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly once more, “I’d like to keep you to myself for a while.”

She cupped his face in her hands and pulled in, pressing her lips against his as they both tried to repress their tightlipped smiles. Finally, finally kissing after all those years staring at each other's lips while they explained something, passionately as ever with the most attentive ears.

“Exactly, me too,” she smiled wider as she pulled back from him, unlocking the front door and pulling him inside for that movie he mentioned.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 (dm me if you want me to remove you)

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!!

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread.

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing.

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly.

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed.

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds.

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way.

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night?

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark.

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan.

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer.

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty.

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.”

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.”

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.”

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down.

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.”

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting.

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit.

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?”

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.”

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?”

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.”

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.”

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?”

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.”

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips.

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.”

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second.

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?”

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.”

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?”

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.”

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.”

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.”

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t.

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone.

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways.

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.”

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place.

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more.

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.”

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.”

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me.

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches.

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.”

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.”

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.”

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.”

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.”

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.”

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him.

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact.

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.”

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not.

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…”

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?”

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.”

“More than I should?”

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.”

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?”

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.”

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.”

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?”

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.”

“I don’t understand.”

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?”

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.”

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--”

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.”

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.”

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.”

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.”

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh.

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.”

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown.

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.”

“Kirigan--”

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.”

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear.

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it.

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before.

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.”

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine.

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.”

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip.

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.”

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly.

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more.

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.”

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.”

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise.

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.”

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived.

“I have to go.”

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.”

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--”

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.”

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?”

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.”

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible.

He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is.

“Soon,” he promises again.

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

One Of The Boys

Lanternfamily x Lantern!Reader

Word Count: 940 Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: This is pretty much based on most of my friend groups when I was a child before I became a bitter old hag who never talks unless I know people well enough. Some of you might relate. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

The newest human in the ranks of the Green Lantern was a weird woman. And that wasn’t just the case to the aliens of the ranks, but to the human Green Lanterns too. She was bubbly and bright and was always grinning like the sun was shining out of everyone’s ass. And she talked—all the goddamn time. Which was good on long patrols when they needed to fill the space, but God forbid they get stuck in a room with her and then there was no ending to the conversation—and surprisingly, no matter how many times someone told her to be quiet, she didn’t seem discouraged or hurt. She just smiled and said “Okay! We’ll talk later!”

Everyone avoided her unless they had to be in her presence, which would’ve been a good thing, but she seemed overly fond of the Four Corpsmen and was always around when they were on Oa. Even Kyle got tired of the overt cheerfulness and that was coming from the man who tried to make conversation with everything and be their friend.

But damned if she wasn’t a helluva fantastic Green Lantern. The only thing that annoyed everyone about her (besides her overall nature) was her uniform. IT WAS PINK. A pink suit with green jewelry and sparkles. Multiple people had told her that the corps was the “Green Lantern Corps” not the “Star Sapphires”—she merely giggled and said she couldn’t help it, pink made her feel pretty and prim.

Of course, like all good things, the guys just needed time to come around on her, and she did try to make herself more approachable to them. She studied up on architecture to make conversation with John, learned about jets and everything Air Force to talk with Hal, drank beer with Guy (well, she tried), and Kyle? She simply watched Kyle when he’d draw and compliment him on his works. Everything did change though when they invited her (begrudgingly) to one of the cookouts they threw with their friends.

Hal was glad to see that she and Barry were getting along, the only other person that talked a mile in a minute was Barry and those two didn’t seem like they were going to stop being goofy together any time soon.

As she wandered over to where Hal and the other corpsmen were standing around the grill, she greeted them with a chirp. “Hi boys!” they all smiled those polite smiles at her, and she grabbed another one of the sodas from the non-alcoholic container. “Thank you for inviting me today. I know I can be an airhead a lot,” she giggled. “But I do love to be included in things, especially cookouts.”

“Yeah well, you’re one of us,” Hal replied, handing her a jalapeño popper, watching as she popped it into her mouth with a big grin.

She chewed and swallowed. “Not really. I’m more of moral support when it comes to wielding the ring. You guys are the real heroes.” Still, that smile never deviated from her face and she glanced at Kyle. “Oh, your beer’s running low. Want me to get you another?”

“Please,” he requested, and she wandered to the beer cooler, pulling one out and popping the top. She walked back over and handed it to him; he glanced at her. “Have you picked a song yet?”

“A song?” she blinked and shook her head. “No? What’s that?”

John pointed to the phone sitting on a speaker. “Everyone gets to pick a couple songs to play. Only rule is that it can’t be explicit.” He tipped his head to the teens running around. “Kids are present.”

And just like that, her face lit up and she was practically bouncing on her heels, eyes going to Hal’s as she silently begged to go, and he sighed. “Go.”

With a squeal, she was hurrying over to the speaker, fiddling with the phone; Guy grunted. “Nice going, Jordan. She’s probably going to play some type of pop shit next.”

“C’mon, Guy,” he sighed. “We’ve been driving her hard these past few weeks to keep her head on better. At least let her play some pop.”

They all plastered smiles as she walked back over and said, “I picked three, if you don’t mind. I was going for two but then I saw my favorite song and just couldn’t help it. It’ll play after this.”

Guy snorted. “Is it Justin Bieber?”

Before she could say anything, a familiar drum beat and guitar riff echoed from the speakers and all their faces morphed in surprise as Kyle asked, “Is this the Little River Band?”

A grin pulled her lips and she answered confidently, “Man On Your Mind from their album, Time Exposure, nineteen-eighty-one.” Her expression turned bashful, and she murmured, “My mom and dad were really into the classics, so I grew up with all this music.”

Guy was practically tripping over himself. “Do you like Aerosmith?”

“I love Aerosmith!” she chirped cheerfully. “And AC/DC, and The Guess Who, and Jim Croce, and Golden Earring, and Sam Cooke, and—” she giggled. “You get the point. I love classic rock.”

“Kenny Loggins?” Hal questioned with a serious look, and she smiled.

“I love Top Gun, Hal.”

He smiled and curled an arm around her neck. “Yeah. You’re alright, sweetheart.”

Her smile was like a star, and she nuzzled into his bomber, giggling, “I’m glad to have everyone’s approval.”

So yeah, she could be a bit of a bumbling air-head, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t accepted by her peers. In fact, she fit in with the Four Corpsmen just fine.

#lanternfamily x reader imagine #lanternfamily x reader imagines #lanternfamily x reader #lanternfamily imagines #lanternfamily imagine #lanternfamily #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc comics #dc #hal jordan #john stewart #guy gardner #kyle rayner #green lanterns #green lantern #green lantern corps #the four corpsmen #four corpsmen

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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Text

here lads have an angsty supercorp soulmate story

It starts exactly 24 hours after Kara’s departure.

It’s subtle at first. It actually reminds Lena of the first few days after they met.

The slow but steady build-up of pain manifesting itself into little things; shaky hands, dizzy spells, chest pains. The pills help, of course. She’s already ingested 5 pills in the span of 3 hours and she’s contemplating taking more. Just to keep the pain—threatening to overtake her—at bay. But what good would she be if Alex finds her passed out on the floor? Veins chock-full of narcotics?

So, she wills her hands to stop shaking and pushes on. She sends a text to Jess to send a shipment of pills to her home address; tells her to be discreet.

She can do it. She’s done it before. She can fucking do it again. And she will bring Kara home.

Because every moment that passes with them apart, means a step closer to Lena’s death.

You might think she’s exaggerating, but really she isn’t. See, Kara’s her soul mate, not just in the figure of speech wax-poetic sense but literally Kara’s her soul mate.

But her being a Luthor of course, soul mates wouldn’t come easy. None of it had ever been easy. Why would this one be an exception? It wasn’t unheard of, no, there were a few rare cases of it being recorded. Of course, Lena would be one of those people. Why wouldn’t the universe add shitty soul mate luck into the long list of misfortunes in Lena’s life? What’s one more curse, right?

See, Kara’s her soul mate but...Lena isn’t Kara’s.

“You look like shit, Luthor. You’re allowed to take a break you know?”

It’s Alex who breaks her out of her reverie. She prays to God that Alex doesn't notice her shaking hands. She’s well aware she looks like shit. She feels like shit, she doesn’t need Alex of all people to point that one out. But now, Lena notices that the whole place is empty, she didn’t even notice J’onn slip out. She didn’t even notice Alex coming in too, really.

Brainy had long passed-out in one of the beds in the MedBay in the 2nd level of The Tower, Nia taking up the opposite bed. There was a brief moment when she walked in that made her feel tempted to occupy the third bed and take a break. But then, her chest tightened and a flare of pain lit up her whole insides, it was reason enough to keep her feet moving and back unto the computers trying to pinpoint Kara’s location.

“I know,” she replies, “But it’s really not necessary, Alex. I’ll rest after.”

She doesn’t need rest, what she needs is Kara to be here.

She refuses to look at Alex, fingers flying across the screen. Alex shifts closer to her, lays a hand on her right arm prompting her to stop. Her eyes land on Alex's hand and continue up to Alex’s eyes.

“We’ll find her, Lena. But you have to rest. I’m serious, Luthor. Come on,” Alex persists, wrapping her hand more firmly and tugging at Lena to follow her.

She doesn’t say that rest will do her more harm than good. She doesn’t say that if she closes her eyes all she would see is Kara’s body floating all alone in space and the pain would start anew.

First, her chest and then travelling up the rest of her body until all there is is pain.

She doesn’t say that she needs to work in order to distract her from the pain.

Instead, she holds her tongue, lets Alex bring her to the 2nd level and tries to have the most fitful sleep of her life.

***

It gets worse on the 5th day of the second week. It really isn’t a surprise considering this is the longest she’s had to go without Kara around.

She’s taken mega-doses of painkillers in anticipation for today. Last night was a nightmare, she had to bite down on a hand towel as waves of pain assaulted her, again and again and again.

When morning came, it slowly subsided. Once feeling had returned to her legs she ran into the kitchen and swallowed 3 pills immediately.

It doesn’t matter if she’s taken 3 or 4 or a whole bottle today, because it will just get worse and worse the longer Kara isn’t by her side.

And so, she drags herself into The Tower again, because she needs to finally find a way to bring her back.

She tries to ignore the tightening of her chest even though she’s really having a hard time breathing now. Not to mention the pain behind her eyes that is bit by bit making it difficult for her to coordinate with Brainy’s computations.

She’s taken to keeping a bottle of pills on her person now. Opting to take them dry as if they were mint candies to keep her tongue moving while programming lines of codes.

She thinks she’s still being subtle.

Well, she is.

Until she isn’t.

She crumples to the floor in front of everyone and a guttural scream of pain breaks free from her lips.

***

When she wakes it’s to Alex sitting by her bedside.

She lets out a groan in response to the sore feeling of her entire body. It’s like the time they were forced to do team building exercises all day in Mt. Helena and Lena nearly passed out.

Alex hands her a bottle of water. She sips greedily before handing it back and wiping her mouth.

“Hey? How you feeling?”

“Like I wanna die.”

Alex sighs and Lena intentionally avoids her eyes.

“It’s Kara isn’t it?” Alex says and Lena doesn’t bother with lying anymore.

“It is.”

“How you survived almost two weeks away from her, I wouldn’t know. Two days away from Kelly—” Alex breaks off, inhales deeply and then sighs again, “That’s already torture for me.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” She retorts flatly, hands fiddling with the rough edges of the blanket. Alex looks like she wants to say something about that but Lena beats her there.

“How?” She asks, gesturing to the IV drip. How am I not feeling pain right now? How am I still breathing? How am I still alive?

“The DEO created a special fluid for agents,” Alex reveals, “They distribute it to agents on field assignments. That way, them and their partners don’t die from pain. Good thing, J’onn had a stash hidden here, well, we always thought it would be for me and Kelly. Never expected you, Luthor.”

Lena takes that in for a moment. So, the DEO had a special formula of Dextrose to stave off the pain of soulmate separation and apparently she’s using up all the remaining bags of it.

And it’s not even supposed to be for her.

“Don’t worry about it. Brainy can replicate the formula.”

Worry must’ve shown on her face. So, she works on schooling her features again, she knows that Alex is itching to ask her questions but is trying to be polite.

There’s really no use hiding anything now though.

“K-Kara’s my soulmate,” she finally says out loud, and she’s always thought that it’s supposed to feel cathartic and freeing but instead it just feels heavy.

“But I’m not hers,” she quickly finishes, better to rip the band-aid off. She briefly looks at Alex, whose face doesn’t give her anything; mouth a tight line and eyes shining with curiosity.

She doesn’t know if Alex had ever had a conversation with Kara about soul mates before. Had they talked about it? Had Kara ever mentioned Lena acting too clingy whenever they don’t see each other for a short period of time? Had Kara ever told Alex if she would want a soul mate of her own?

But the look and silence from Alex’s side makes Lena refrain from asking.

Instead, she starts to tell her how it had hit her the instant Kara walked in her office. How there was a zing! and her brain had immediately screamed HER. That’s the one. She’s the one.

How when they met eyes and Kara had told her her name it felt like Lena’s soul finally found her home.

“I asked for her name and I kind of thought she’d wait for me to get out of the office,” Lena trails off and Alex takes it for what it is.

Their first meeting was all sparks for Lena but then, the conversation kept going and going and Clark had tried interrogating her and Kara didn’t do anything.

Didn’t approach her afterwards, didn’t show any reaction that might’ve given Lena a clue that she felt the way Lena did.

A conclusion was easily reached.

Kara was hers but she wasn’t Kara’s.

After the initial shock settled in, Lena set to work. Because that was what she did best. Work out a solution to everything and anything that poses a problem.

How many people have dreamed about meeting their soul mate? How many years had Lena sat there hoping that tomorrow maybe, maybe she’ll finally meet them? She never expected this, never expected her soul to find a home that isn’t hers.

Staying away from Kara was a non-starter, it’s only been a day since they parted but Lena can already feel the beginnings of pain. Slow but sharp shots of throbbing from behind her eyes then came the shaky hands then the dizziness and then—

They became friends and Lena made sure Kara didn’t know anything about her growing need to be close to her; didn't let Kara know about the fact that the universe made Lena its most epic punchline yet.

She agreed to scheduled game nights and movie nights and lunch dates. She never knew the pain of soulmate separation during those early days. Kara was always around; bringing her a salad, covering an L-Corp gala, crashing on Lena’s couch.

“It was easy, you know? Kara was always there. What are friends for?” Lena mimics Kara and then repeats somberly, “It was easy, Alex.”

Or at least, Lena kept telling herself it was easy. She had it easy. She didn’t have to think about painkiller pills or cutting her business trips short—because the pain becomes unbearable too soon—like so many of her board members do.

She had it easy with Kara, she can just call and she’ll be there.

Until, Kara started going MIA. And for three days pain overtook her entire life. The pain made her unable to think clearly, the pills kicking in at the last minute.

“You haven't been around. Supergirl's been there for me. Person who judges me on the very premise of my last name, but my best friend hasn't,” she accuses because Goddamnit Kara has no idea what kind of shit Lena had to endure with her going away with no warning.

Logically, Lena knows it’s partly her fault.

She knows that if she only just told Kara that she needs her to live, Kara would stay. But she doesn’t want anything to change.

Of course, Kara would stay, it was the kind of thing a person like her would do.

Kara would take care of her, whatever Lena needed she would give.

But Lena didn’t want things that way.

She wants Kara to want her the same way she wants her.

But no, Lena’s not going to tell her that. She is never going to know. She will find an alternative. So, she injects as much venom as she can into that accusation, “B-but maybe it’s better if I leave.”

She makes Kara leave.

She just got her cure back and immediately Lena had pushed her away. The moment Kara stepped out of the door, a dull throb already kicked in her chest; as if telling Lena she was making a big mistake.

She regretted that night so much, Jess had to drag her drunken body out of her office.

Then it became normal again and Lena went back to not worrying about body pains again.

Because a different kind of pain is trying to make itself known.

A gaping hole in her heart that is entirely unrelated to the biological consequences of being separated from your soul mate.

She was falling in love.

She was falling in love and she wasn’t prepared for how it would hurt to have Kara not love her back. She can endure the physical pain, there are pills for that.

But there wasn’t any type of medication to see your other half everyday and not have them see you as theirs.

When Lex told her Kara’s secret. Something broke inside of her. Which was saying something, considering she was getting her heart broken every single day that Kara wouldn’t look her way.

But to know how stupid she’s been? To realize that the flutter of her heart whenever Supergirl was near was her brain telling her it was Kara?

There was no word for that.

“I think, I kept rejecting the idea of Supergirl being Kara you know?” Lena huffs out, laughs drily, “Imagine how fucking painful it would be, Alex, if Supergirl was my soul mate. This person who didn’t trust me wholly, who lies behind my back, imagine if she was my soul mate? It would have felt humiliating. My body knew better, though,” she admitted sadly.

“When Lex told me, all the little painful outbursts every time Supergirl flew away? It made sense. Everything made sense, but at the same time? Everything hurt too.”

She tried hurting her back. Created Hope. Experimented with Q-waves. Foolishly used Myriad. Teamed up with Lex.

But even through all of those? The separation pain never knocked her out.

Even when they were fighting, Kara was still always around. Even when the world—the fucking multiverse got reset. The pain wasn’t enough to knock her out. Not like today.

Because Kara was always lingering around convincing her not to join Lex, crossing paths in CatCo, flying into her home even if it was to call her a villain.

All of those interactions were still sustenance for Lena.

But this? This separation? This knowledge that Kara was somewhere out there, unreachable. That she could be lightyears away in space and it has been two weeks since Lena had last saw her, it has her every molecule shouting to go find Kara.

“It’s never been like this before,” Lena confesses, “I thought I could do it without-”

“Help?” Alex supplies and Lena finally turns to her and she feels a hand squeeze her.

“Yeah.” She mutters back softly.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Luthor. You’re part of the team now whether you like it or not. We are going to help you, we’re going to find a temporary solution for that pain and then we’ll get back to work and we’ll find Kara.”

#im thinking if i'll continue this after the 2nd ep but hmm we'll see #anyways hope u liked that little blurb #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts #supercorp fic #soul mate au #supercorp #rcklss writes

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jamilelucato · 3 years

Text

About him [Fred Weasley]

Pairing: Fred Weasleyx reader (Slytherin but brief mention)

Summary: [y/n] and Fred have always been friends because of their similarities, but after focusing on their differences they ended up missing each other a lot.

A/N: really slow burn except for the fact that I speed it up lol (gif is very much the ice cream shop scene)

Warnings: brief mention of p*rn but it's just for a joke really; and sadness at the very end, much much sadness

harry potter masterlist!

[y/n] and Fred Weasley were classmates, and, even though they were from different houses (she was a Slytherin, he was a Gryffindor), they generally ended up in the same circles because they had a lot of friends and common and were purebloods.

They had lots of things in common, but they never really thought much of it or talked about it. Their pureblood families were seen with wicked eyes by the others because they were friendly towards muggles and muggles-borns, and curiously [y/n]'s mother worked in the same department as Fred's dad.

Fred silently understood [y/n], and she sympathized with him as well. But that was as far as their friendship went. They joked with each other and worked well together when assigned — except they were never alone or were clingy towards one another.

Therefore, it was no surprise (nor new) that Fred sat next to her, at the almost end of a party at Ravenclaw. Both had a drink in hand and were laughing at their friends' jokes. Suddenly, the big group divided itself into pairs that were talking together, and [y/n] saw herself in a position to make conversation with Fred.

"Where's George?" she politely asked him while sipping her cup.

He looked down at her — even sitting, it was clear he was taller.

"Honestly," his eyes were smiling, "I have no idea."

She half-smiled, half laughed, which was her usual reaction when speaking to Fred. He had a humorous way of expressing himself even when it was not funny.

"Aren't you worried?"

"With George? No," Fred chocked; with a raised brow. "He'll manage. Wherever he is."

"Probably with a girl," [y/n] said with a calm tone that surprised Fred.

He knew he and his twin had a reputation (perhaps even Dumbledore did), but he didn't expect little miss [y/n] to mention that with such naturality. He didn't know why it bothered him; was it because he hoped to preserve his image of a good boy or because it was her?

"Wait, what about you?" she asked, realizing he didn't say anything about George. "Where's your girlfriend?"

"Ex-girlfriend," corrected Fred in a huff. "We broke up last week."

[y/n] took a long while to stare at him, analyzing his features — the more she looked, the more concerned Fred got.

She didn't know about the news regarding Fred and Angelina, but she was nowhere near worried.

"Well, by the end of next week, you two will be together again," she shrugged, looking back at her drink.

"Not at all," Fred denied, moving his face.

"Come on, Fred," [y/n] lowered her hands, "you guys never last too much apart; at this point, it's almost annoying."

He stared at her, more shocked than before.

"You guys are always breaking up," she pointed out, this time with a sweeter tone, scared she was offending him.

"True," granted Fred, "but this time is for real."

"You said that last time," remembered [y/n], unable to hold her smile at the end of her sentence and making Fred smile too.

There was a pause before Fred decided to defend his point.

"I don't..." he swallowed. "Angie and I... we both know the relationship isn't going anywhere."

"Wow," [y/n] was surprised. They always talked about Fred's break-ups but never before had he said something like that. "You're serious."

Fred ignored her comment.

"George and I want to do something big, you know? And I need to be real about it, so might as well be serious about everything else."

[y/n] considered his comment. She knew it was his dream to open the joke shop. She also knew his parents were not very okay with that.

Another thing they had in common, she supposed. Her parents didn't support her dream of being an actress either. They were okay with her pursuing a career in the muggle world, but they did not want it to be acting.

"It's a good plan, you know, " she said, finally. "Just... don't lose your charm."

"Don't lose my charm, you say?" Fred smirked, getting closer to her, their legs touching each other in the small blue sofa of Ravenclaw.

"Not that charm," she said through her teeth, shoving him with her shoulder. But even when she hated him using his smirk with her, she ended up smiling. "I meant your drollery."

"Oh," he leaned back, the smirk fading. "I suppose that if Snape wasn't able to erase my joy, nothing can."

He was right, of course.

"And you, huh?" Fred asked, noticing that if he remained in silence, the conversation would die. "How's the porn acting career going?"

She pushed him again with her free hand this time, and he laughed it off. She was sure it hurt, though, because he remained to brush up and down his arm.

"I don't want to be a porn star, you creep," [y/n] hissed, but she wasn't that angry with his comment as she was leading him into thinking. "And I suppose it's going as slow as it can go when you are only sixteen and lives in your school."

"And have unsupporting parents," added Fred, tilting his head, feeling very clever with his suggestion. Until he looked at her and saw she was frozen. "Sorry, I didn't m...."

"You're right," she sighed, gulping her drink until she drank it all. Then, startling Fred, she started laughing, but it was nowhere near a desperate laugh as he expected. "Gosh, I just want to be over with school."

"Shocking enough, me too," agreed Fred, entering her cheerful mood with a smile of himself.

Two Years Later...

She avoided going to the Diagon Alley for various reasons, but the most important was to dodge encountering old classmates. But the Wizarding World was at the brink of war, and [y/n]'s mom insisted that her daughter should go out and buy everything they could need in case they had to go into hiding.

After hours of shopping, she left her parents at one of the stores and walked all by herself to the ice cream place, where she hoped to have a minute to sit down and breathe.

She was contemplating the busy streets, filled with workers and other wizards, all with the same desperate look her mom had on her face. She had noticed when Fred and George walked in the shop, but she hoped her well-placed table would be enough to hide her.

It wasn't.

"Oh, [y/n]!" shouted Fred, after taking the ice cream he chose with the attendant. He stepped in her direction, the expression in his face pure joy.

They had bumped into each other after school, but they always had other places to go and be, which left them with a chance only to say hi. But, seeing her, calmly, sitting with her ice cream, Fred thought it was the perfect chance to catch up with his long time friend.

"How are you?" he asked, smiling.

Noticing she had no escape, she pointed to the remaining empty chair at her table for him to sit and finally answered.

"Oh, you know," she shrugged. "Every day's crazier than the one before, and we never know how tomorrow is gonna be, so..." she dredged. "But I heard your shop is outstanding itself — congrats, Fred."

Fred only blushed because he didn't have time to comment on her praise since George appeared next to them, with his ice cream in his hands.

"Hi, [y/n]," he smiled, but his expression and tone were nowhere near the joy in Fred's.

"How are you, George?" she asked politely, noticing that she was braver to do small talk with George than Fred.

"Fine as one can be knowing Voldy's out there," answered the twin, his voice tone so standardized, it showed how many times had he answered that. "You do believe in his return, right?" he asked; suddenly, he remembered she used to be a Slytherin.

[y/n] pretended not to care when George suggested so easily otherwise, even though Fred, in front of her, seemed close to slapping his twin. She was used to other people's prejudice.

"Oh, I do," she said. "I'm with parents buying supplies, really but, right now, I just ran away from them."

"They're getting on your nerves?" asked Fred, quickly remembering their time in school when [y/n]'s mom used to send her letters almost every day.

[y/n] took in Fred's friendly and joking smile. She didn't realize she missed the twins. Missed Fred.

"My mom knows how to stress someone," [y/n] let out.

"Probably learned with ours," commented George, sighing playfully. Then he turned to his twin, "Fred, we gotta go; we can't leave Verity alone for too long."

Fred pressed his eyes shut with enormous force — he knew his twin was correct, but he didn't want to leave.

"Go ahead, George, I'll catch up," Fred said finally, avoiding [y/n]'s eyes, scared it would reveal that she did not want him there.

They were friends or at least used to be, and after school, they just lost touch. [y/n] pushed herself away from all her friends on purpose, and Fred didn't think he could be an exception. Besides, she spent most of her time in the muggle world, pursuing her career — which was no secret to the gossip of wizardly London that she was failing. She had yet to get any parts in any movies or plays, and the most prestigious families were saying all horrible things about her.

His own mother was one of the gossipers spreading rumours, but every time she said anything near Fred, he would jump at her, shutting her up.

"So..." she started saying and scratched her throat. "How's your family?" she asked finally. "I bet your mom doesn't complain about the joke shop anymore."

He smiled. It could be awkward between them sometimes, but it was pretty easy to fall into a comfortable flow.

"She doesn't, you're right," he laughed with his nose, pausing to take his ice cream. "And Ron is always asking us for money now."

"As he would," [y/n] smiled, remembering tenderly of the lovely Weasley family.

"And you? How's the career going?" he almost joked as he used to do, mentioning she was a porn star, but now that the rumours said she basically had no career, he was scared she had run to that option as her last resort. And who was he to judge?

"You mean acting?" she asked and puffed, playing with her ice cream. "I've given up on it not so long after I left Hogwarts."

"You're kidding."

"Nope," she sighed. "I tried, sure, 'cause I'm not that coward, but.. it was clear it wouldn't turn out to be anything. I'm always the weirdo at auditions, always saying something wrong... I thought watching tons of muggle movies would leave me as a great performer of the muggles' grimaces, but it sure didn't. Or simply just wasn't enough."

"I can't believe you quit," he said. "You craved it so much back at school."

"That's cause I didn't know what it really was like back at school," she sighed again. "They don't want me not even backstage."

"That can't be true!" Fred looked — and it probably was the first time [y/n] had seen him like that — a mix of angry and exasperation.

"Don't let it get over your head, Fred," she avoided his eyes. "I don't."

He stared at her, for a moment just the two of them and the silence.

"Besides, I'm working with my dad at his muggle bookshop," she shrugged. "You should stop by anytime. if there's someone that can make you read a book, and like it, it's my dad."

Fred still wanted to talk about [y/n]'s acting career but he understood the subject could still be sensitive to her.

"I doubt that," Fred let himself smile again.

They spent more minutes talking, picking up in all the subjects they could and then reliving old memories until Fred remembered he had to go back to work.

He got up, saying his goodbyes, while [y/n] stood there, her ice cream already eaten.

"See you, Fred," she said, her tone clear of her sadness.

Fred only took two steps before turning back at her. He pressed his hands in his pants pockets — a million feelings going to his head, most of them telling him to give up.

But he remembered how much he wanted to do that since Hogwarts, and with her, and only with her, he simply never gathered enough courage.

And that wasn't fair.

[y/n] deserved a chance with him as much as any girl. He deserved a chance with her as much as any guy.

"[y/n]," he swallowed, nervous as her eyes met his, "would you by any chance like to go out with me?"

"I'd love to!" she said, not even remembering she ever wanted to go out with him, but now feeling like that was all she ever craved.

Two Days Later...

The night had been exciting. Spending hours before a mirror, hoping for the best look had paid off, [y/n] noticed because Fred Weasley couldn't stop staring at her with big eyes.

They managed to talk a bit about everything, always having something new to add to their conversation. Even when they remained in silence, it wasn't bad. It was anxious but great.

And then he insisted on dropping her off, which only made her more nervous. She wanted to kiss him and she hoped so badly he enjoyed his night as much as she had so he would want to kiss her too.

At Hogwarts, she could not deny it, it had occurred to her kissing Fred. However, it was always when she was too drunk to manage a congruent thought or when her friends asked who of their friends she could kiss. But the fact is: they never did.

A corner of her mind wondered if she ever really did have a window with him back then, but school memories were all a blur in her mind. It seemed obvious now that she and Fred could match, but back then, not so much.

Fred was thinking the same. He liked her. He always did.

They knew each other before Hogwarts, and even if at first (she being a Slytherin and all) they were apart, their friendship rose so easily on their second year and managed to stay firm until the very end.

He remembered wanting to kiss her but it was never as bad as he wanted now, when he had her hand in his, and she was blushing simply because they were standing side to side.

And when he finally did, finally allowed his lips to touch hers — heavens — he could have died right then. It felt right. It felt good.

Fred had kissed many times before, but none felt as close to perfection as this time.

He pulled her in softly by her cheek, letting his lips simply brush against hers and she gasped, opening her mouth, desperate for more.

Then his hands were everywhere, and [y/n] was not reserved herself. She pulled forward, holding grasp of his hair, and it was unclear to determine who would let go first.

Perhaps never let go was a good solution. They both thought so.

One Year Later...

Fred Weasley lied before her, forever moveless.

She could not believe it.

She reached for his cold hands and squeezed, hoping her touch would be enough to reverse what was irreversible.

On both of her sides, there was a Weasley crying, desperate as much as her.

But the only one feeling as hollow as her, the only one that could compete as her sadness was George. No words were able to comfort.

Not right there, not at the burial ceremony, not at her empty apartment above the joke shop.

Everything reminded her of him.

They had been together for only a year, but he was her best friend before that. Somehow, when she played different scenarios in her head, she felt like she could have suffered more if they had stayed just as friends.

It was the latest memories the ones that hurt the most. She knew they were in danger when the war began, but both were not going anywhere, and Fred had hope.

Every night in hiding he would hold her against his bare chest and whisper that they were going to be okay. Sometimes he even joked she would get out of it with a movie deal about the Wizarding War.

[y/n] and George helped each other out of their worst moments, creating a friendship tighter than they had before. But, eventually, she knew that without Fred she did not belong in the joke shop building.

At Fleur's and Bill's wedding, Fred had made her promise she would try the film industry once again.

"You know," he said, whispering in her year while they slow danced, "your dad says you like to write. Perhaps you should write a script."

"Perhaps," she smiled. "But about what should the movie script be?"

"About me, of course," he joked.

How she wished he was there with her.

Walking in to deliver her first script.

About them.

About her.

About him.

#fred weasley #fred and george #fred weasley x reader #fred and goerge weasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader #james phelps #weasley twins #draco malfoy

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mrsgiovanna · 3 years

Text

The Beguiling (Hades! Don Giorno x Persephone! Fem! Reader)

This concept has been on my mind for the longest time. This is loosely based off the lore of Hades and Persephone, set in a modern mafia AU, with Giorno as Hades and the reader as Persephone. 🥺💖🐞

TW: Kidnapping, yandere themes, manipulative behaviour, disordered relationship dynamics

Word count : 6.3k

“The truth of the matter I believe to be this. There is, as I stated at first, no absolute right or wrong in love, but everything depends upon the circumstances, to yield to a bad man in a bad way is wrong, but to yield to a worthy man in a right way is right.”

- Plato, Symposium

Being the Don of a mafia is a difficult task, being so far removed from everyone and everything else. Some would even say, its like being part of an entirely different realm…

Extremely beautiful but entirely unapproachable, Giorno didn’t appear in public very often, the burden of running the organization had brought many threats to his safety. Granted, he was able to thwart any plan to even remotely harm him, but one doesn’t have time for such annoyances when you wield as much power as he did. Taking over something so big at such a young age changes a person, and Giorno was no different, he was always seen as aloof and calculating, but there were other dimensions to his character that he was painfully aware of, but would not reveal to anyone else… yet.

“Don Giovanna, are you ready to go? The driver is ready for us,” his consigliere spoke in an even, respectful tone while addressing his don.

“Yes, we can leave, have you informed Fugo of the change in our plans?” Giorno’s voice was monotonous, soft and polite, but conveyed no emotion. The task at hand today was not a pleasant one… he hated having to deal with defectors and had avoided it up until this point. This case was different… the defector in question was your brother. You had always held a special place in his heart ever since he encountered you upon taking over Passione. You were always kind towards him, and all your conversations had brought about a sense of peace within himself. Nonetheless, he dismissed it as a simple juvenile crush, and continued with his mammoth task of remolding the diseased organization, excising the ‘tumors’ to allow for a healthier, better, stronger Passione to emerge. Sacrificing his youth, his personal life and precious friends in order to attain his dream, he was not going to let anyone destroy everything he had worked so hard to create.

As the years went on, there were many times that your path had unwittingly crossed with the young don’s which only intensified his feelings for you, but given the nature of his lifestyle, he tried to convince himself that loving you from afar would be good enough, but Giorno’s resolve- unshakeable in every other scenario- was quickly waning in this regard.

Meeting with your father was painful, his demeanor reminding Giorno of a shadowed figure from his past who had changed his life forever.

“He’ll have to be dealt with, you understand this, correct?”

“I’m aware of this, Don Giovanna. I… I’m willing to take any punishment you see fit… please keep my daughter out of this… I can stake my life on her innocence in all of this,” your father spoke emphatically, desperate to protect you, appealing to the don’s humanity. Giorno furrowed his eyebrows, surely your father knew he wouldn’t harm you in any way- was it normal for people to be this terrified of him? The sharp slam of a door and a greeting from a honeyed voice snapped Giorno from his thoughts.

“I’m home, I hope you’re hungry, I’m making octopus salad, squid ink risotto and I’ve got chocolate fondants for dessert… oh goodness! Don Giovanna- I’m sorry… I, um…” you stuttered embarrassingly as your gaze landed on the blonde’s handsome face and shifted to the ground immediately. Before Giorno could answer you to try and quell your discomfort, your father interjected, sending you away from the room. The young don was completely awestruck by your ethereal beauty, as if you had been crafted by the gods themselves, descended to create joy in an otherwise dull world. He made a silent promise to himself- he had to have you as his own.

“(Y/n), please give us a moment piccolina, I’ll come to you as soon as we have concluded our meeting,”

“Of course, please pardon my interruption,” with a small nod of your head, you took your leave, wanting to start making the dishes you had just rattled off. As you busied yourself with your preparations, your mind kept returning to Giorno, he was always calm and pleasant, but you hadn’t seen him with that kind of expression before. The fact that you hadn’t seen your brother in days didn’t bode well with today’s events… you hoped he was okay, but you experienced first-hand how aggressive he could be, something, you were told, he had shared with your mother. You didn’t have much of a relationship with her as her job had taken her away from the family a bit too much. You understood now that you were a young adult, but your emotions still vacillated between acceptance and resentment when you observed the families of your friends.

“You know… because of the difference in our ages, you’ve always told me that you cared for me as a father would care for a son, as a result, our relationship has always been cordial… its allowed us to speak frankly as we have always done in the past,”

“Yes, Don Giovanna… this is true.”

“Please, I’ve told you many times before, call me Giorno…”

“Alright… Giorno,”

“Good, good, see? That sounds better already. As I was saying before, if your affections for me run that deep… accept me as a son-in-law and allow me to marry (y/n) and you will never have to worry about her safety again. Nobody would ever think to harm her if they have to contend with me first,”

“What? Are you asking for permission to marry my daughter? I don’t think she has even considered something like that… you’ve barely spoken to each other…” your father was battling to make sense of Giorno’s request, if one could even call it a request.

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in… your son has singlehandedly created a colossal mess; we’d be in the middle of a turf war if it wasn’t for the quick thinking of my consigliere. That’s not to say other people wouldn’t want to exact their own personal brand of justice. I can guarantee you though, if she’s under my care, none of those things will ever reach her.” Just as the consigliere was about to speak, perhaps, an attempt to rationalize with the don, a sharp sideward glance from the latter had left all suggestions unspoken. The silence in the room was palpable… uncomfortable, until it was broken by Giorno.

“I’ve loved (y/n) for as long as I’ve known her, the best place for her would be with me, my strength is unparalleled… this is probably a lot to take in right now, I’ll allow you some time to come around to the idea, I’d hate to have to take her by force, but, if that’s what it will take…”

“Are you threatening me Don Giovanna?” asked your father with a restrained bite to his voice.

“Of course not, I’m merely making my intentions clear, my reach spans well beyond anything you could ever imagine… well, I’ve said all I need to in this instance. I’ll be back for her in three days, I trust you’ll be able comply with my suggestion. I’ll be taking my leave now.” With a flourish of his cerulean blue coat, Giorno and his consigliere left your home. Your father cursed his position, but there was little he could do about it. Finding you blissfully tinkering in the kitchen, his heart broke, knowing already that this was one of the last times he would be seeing you like this… or at all.

“You don’t agree with what I’m doing, do you, Lorenzo? You know I’m good at reading people, although you’re not even trying to mask your disdain,” asked Giorno, breaking the silence on the drive home.

“Well, if I’m allowed to speak freely, I don’t think you’re going about this in the right manner. She’s going to be terrified and resentful because you’re effectively abducting her, so in brief, I don’t agree with this at all,”

“Fair enough, and for the record, obviously I’m aware that she’s going to hate me… at first anyway, but she’ll come to understand eventually. Anyway, what’s done is done, in three days, I’ll be bringing home my goddess.” Giorno turned his attention to his phone and with that Lorenzo had backed off, knowing from years of serving Giorno that there was no talking to him when he resolved to do something.

“Father, you’re so quiet… did something happen?” you asked, part of you not wanting to know the answer to that question.

“It’s a mess, but don’t worry about that, I’ll handle it. There is something that I have to speak to you about though… it’s about Don Giovanna, he would like to see you in a few days, nothing serious, just be sure to keep your schedule open for the day,” your father explained, only divulging half the truth of your situation.

“He wants to see me? Do you know why? Have I done something wrong?” you were curious as to what Giorno could possible want with you.

“Of course not dolcezza, he just wants to have a chat with you, I think he’s just making sure that you’re alright… that’s part of why he was here today.

“Oh, alright, I’ll be available. Anyway, dinner’s ready, once you get washed up, we can eat,” you glanced up at your father to see his face contorted in grief. “What’s the matter? I know you don’t like talking about things that have to do with your occupation, but you’ve been like this ever since Don Giovanna left,”

Being too much for him to bear, he pulled you into a vicelike embrace, almost as if you would disappear if he let you go, which was not entirely false. “Aww, it’s okay dad, everything will be fine, come on, the food’s getting cold, you need to eat,” with that, you both ate in a comfortable silence as you always did, before you both retired for the evening.

While you tried to prepare yourself for your “meeting”, your soon to be captor was busy creating your sanctuary, or rather, overseeing the creation of your sanctuary- there was no reason why your surroundings couldn’t be as beautiful as you were, his aim after all was to get you to fall in love with him. Large, glittering mirrors with gilded frames adorned the walls of the hallways that lead to your room. Inside, was everything one could ever hope to have; an extensive closet filled with things that were made especially for you, various trinkets and baubles carefully selected for you, state of the art electronic devices, albeit with restrictions on the amount of things you could access… just for the time being though. If you were to start off as a bird in a cage, it should be a bejeweled cage worthy of a rarity like you.

As it got closer to the time you’d be seeing Giorno, your nerves started increasing exponentially, you knew that under normal circumstances, having to meet with someone like him without knowing what the subject matter would be was intimidating, but this feeling was something else altogether. As if something in your gut was telling you to cancel- to run- but you dismissed those feelings, and prepared yourself for the engagement.

“Buonasera cara, you look especially charming this evening…” he greeted you with a velvety voice that masked the true nature of him being there.

“Buonasera Don Giovanna, thank you for the compliment,”

“Shall we leave, (y/n)?”

“Um, okay… I just need to fetch my things and let my father know that I’m leaving…”

“Alright, perfect, actually, would you mind if I followed you? I’d like a quick word with him before we leave,” his expression was so charismatic, you felt guilty for not inviting him inside immediately.

“Of course, I’m sorry, please do come in.” you say as you stepped aside to make room for Giorno to enter. You lead him to the study and went to fetch your coat and purse to go, giving yourself a onceover in the mirror to make sure you were presentable and with that you kissed your father on the cheek and left.

The restaurant that you and Giorno went to was completely empty except for a single table set up for you both and the staff that were going to serve you, you found it odd, but dismissed it as one of the nuances of leading a mafia, privacy was of utmost importance. Ever the gentleman, the young don pulled out your chair for you and seated himself across from you.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me (y/n), I appreciate you taking the time to do so,”

“Of course, although I have to admit, I’m a little confused as to why I’m here,” you say with a nervous titter. The waiter brought a bottle of wine to the table, probably preapproved by Giorno already, and with a small nod, it is poured out into the awaiting glasses for the two of you.

“You will understand soon enough cara, come, lets toast to something… ah! To new beginnings…” he suggested with a sardonic smile.

“New beginnings? Okay… to new beginnings, salute!” with a confused smile and a delicate clink of your glasses you both took a sip of your wine. As the night went on, you were having a wonderful time, however, it seemed like your alcohol was getting to you faster than usual.

“Are you alright, cara, you look a bit out of sorts, come, I’ll take you home,”

“Thanks Don, I… I’m sorry I don’t know-” before completing the rest of your sentence, your consciousness faded and you fell into a strong pair of arms. Giorno sat you back down and made a quick call to his driver before picking you up again and placing you in the awaiting car to take you to your new home. As he gazed lovingly upon your face, he knew that the road is going to be a tedious one, but you would love him one day.

Your head pounded incessantly as you tried to open your eyes. The sensations on your skin were unfamiliar- soft, silken, so inviting, lulling you back into the deep slumber you were trying to break. Was this a dream? Your eyes finally opened to an unfamiliar room, you gathered the courage to sit up in bed, still unsure if you were in a dream or not and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Looking around the room, feeling a sense of panic enveloping your very existence, you ran towards the large, ornately carved door to try and leave the room, but it was locked. The windows, it seemed, were crafted from reinforced glass as they would not break regardless of what was thrown at them. Left with only one option, you began to cry out for help, surely someone would be there, it was too well kept to be an abandoned building.

Listening to the commotion from outside the room were the guards and servants tasked with making sure your requests were fulfilled, but more importantly, they needed to ensure you were safe and didn’t escape. Giorno had a way with people, a charisma that both scared and enchanted those around him. Disobedience was not even a fleeting option for those who served him, partly out of fear, but mostly out of devotion to the young don. Giving each other a knowing glance, your guard decided to call his boss to come and subdue you before you had hurt yourself.

Your throat felt raw from the shouting and hyperventilating, your skin shimmered, veiled in a thin layer of sweat and your eyes shifted this way and that, trying to spot something you could exploit to leave the room while your captor was away. It dawned on you that as terrifying as it was to be in that place, it would be even worse if you had to face whoever was holding you there, choosing rather to contend with the fear of the unknown, than putting a face to your jailor. As if even thinking of something willed it into existence, your worst nightmare materialized as you heard the door being unlocked.

“Tesoro… please stop, you’re hurting yourself,” your eyes widened when you heard the velvety voice addressing you with such tenderness.

“Don… Giovanna? Where am I? What are you doing here? Please, I need to go home, I don’t know who brought me here…” you could barely articulate yourself with your shaky voice.

“I know that you’re extremely scared and confused… there’s so much I need to explain to you… but please, first, let me look at your hands, you are hurt, I can take care of that,” it was only after he spoke that you saw the bruises blooming on the delicate skin of your hands and arms. You still stayed rooted to where you were, but Giorno inched closer, materializing GE to heal your injuries. His heart stung when you silently grimaced at the pain of his ability rejoining the blood vessels that had broken, but he hated seeing your beautiful skin being marred like that.

“Don…”

“Please, call me Giorno…”

“Okay… Giorno… can we go now? I need to go home, if we stay any longer the people who put me here might come back or send others, I…”

“Tesoro… this is your home now… the person who brought you here was me… what is the last thing you remember from yesterday?” The young don circled around you and sat you down next to him at the foot of the bed.

“Why? Why did you bring me here? Are you insane? I can’t stay here, I… don’t understand what the hell is going on! I need to call my father,” seeing you start to get agitated again, Giorno pulled out his phone and motioned for you to take it.

“Here, call him, he has already agreed to this arrangement. You’re not safe my love, I’m sure you know about the recent transgressions courtesy of your cretin of a brother. People are angry and want revenge, and unfortunately you’re in the direct line of fire. So it was decided that you would come and live with me, you’ll find all your belongings here already, mixed with things that I believe you would like. I will give you anything your heart desires, lavish you with all the love and attention I can. All you need to do is stay here… near me… nobody can challenge me…”

You heard the words, but nothing was making sense to you. You decided to take up your captor’s offer to speak to your father, who confirmed his entire story. Feeling dejected, empty and completely alone, you sank to the floor as violent sobs wracked your body. Seeing you in this state filled Giorno with dread as he lifted you off the lushly carpeted floor, but he knew he would be able to get you to love him eventually. This was this the initial shock; he was willing to wait for you to acclimate to your surroundings.

Thus began your life of isolation… your routine, if you could even call it that, consisted of waking up in your palatial room, begrudgingly having breakfast with your green-eyed abductor and sulking around for the rest of the day. Giorno put a lot of effort into making sure that you were comfortable and tried to interact with you as much as his schedule would allow him to. Initially, all of his attempts to speak to you were ignored, you wondered if the awkward silence even bothered him at all, but he always had a peaceful expression on his face. If nothing else, he was very patient with you, and at times you tested his patience on purpose, goading him to anger, in those times though, he simply left you alone in your room, not allowing you to leave for a few days, instructing your handlers to confiscate your electronics, not even offering you a sliver of human contact… you needed to think about why you were in that position after all, so there could be no distractions whatsoever. Those isolation periods would thankfully not last long enough to tip you over the edge though, and like a ray of sunshine after a storm, he’d come to unlock your doors and add color back into your world. You always were more affectionate towards him after a few days on your own, which, you reasoned, was due to the lack of any interaction at all as opposed to having any genuine feelings towards him. Giorno wasn’t picky though, he accepted your gentle touches and embraces all the same, one day… soon… you would undertake those gestures solely on your desire to do so.

Surely enough, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you had warmed up to him, settling into an oddly satisfying domestic life with the don. The more of yourself you gave to him, the wider your world had gotten, until you eventually had free reign over the entire estate. You soon had come to realize that if you had just played your part, and listened to him, complied with his simple requests, his kindness towards you was limitless. Giorno had remained as attentive as ever, picking up on every little change on you from the subtle change in the color of your blush to the miniscule changes in the length of your hair after its trimmed, nothing escaped his well trained eye. He beamed when you started to wear the clothes and jewels he bought for you, seeing it as a sign that you were slowly starting to accept him. The truth of the situation was that you had, against your better judgement, fallen in love with this living deity.

“Giorno… the weather’s warming up quite beautifully, why don’t we train outdoors from now on instead of working out inside?” you suggested while you kneeled on the bed behind a seated Giorno as you undid his elaborate hairstyle and brushed out the product from his hair before he took a shower.

“Hmmm… alright bella, I suppose we could do that, I’m sure the fresh air would do us both some good,” as he got up, he bent down to place a chaste kiss on your forehead before heading into the shower. For a fleeting moment, you thought about your old life, you had earned back the liberty to speak to your family, well, your father, and some friends, but the fractured relationships weren’t the same. Pushing those negative feelings to the back of your mind, you waited for Giorno so that you could both go to sleep, but your heavy eyelids fell shut. His patience with you was never more evident than in these moments, never once overstepping your boundaries or initiating intimacy that would make you feel uncomfortable. Emerging to see your sleeping form, he pulled up the covers around you and climbed into the other side of the bed, facing you, he clutched your hands in his, allowing himself to close his eyes as well.

“We’ve managed to locate her… you aren’t going to like this though,”

“Just tell me where my daughter is, I’ll decide the rest,” your mother spoke bluntly to her partner.

“She’s living with some mafia boss; I think he’s her boyfriend or something. You never see her out on her own, she’s always with him. I’ve got people watching your husband’s house, she’s only been there once, with the cocky bastard in tow. The security at his place is insane, worst of all, we think he’s a stand user,”

“Stand user? Don’t make me laugh, that means nothing, we’re stand users too, every ability has a weakness that can be exploited,” your mother lit a cigarette and took a long drag, musing on what her first move should be. After a moment of contemplation, she had her sights set on her old marital home, deciding that your father would be able to provide the most complete description of what is going on. She portrayed a nonchalant exterior, but your mother was very worried for your safety. She had a powerful stand of her own, in fact all the members of your family were powerful stand users- except you. Your mother worked closely with a foreign organization dedicated to studying supernatural phenomena as such, most of her time was divided between her travels on behalf of the organization and work that she would need to do onsite at their headquarters in Washington. Over her lifetime, she’s found herself in many precarious positions, so she decided it would be safer if she stayed away from the family in an attempt to keep everyone safe… upon hindsight, that was a fatal miscalculation. To describe her mood after speaking to your father as livid, would be an understatement.

Not wasting a moment, your mother called her associate and made her way to the don’s villa, hell-bent on taking you back from his dark clutches.

“Bella, are you ready to go?” Giorno called to you as he pulled on his coat while you put on your last accessory. You never turned down an opportunity to go out, even though your outings became slightly more frequent, you were completely captivated by discovering the different facets to Giorno’s personality. As much as he was fervently observing you and curating an ideal world tailored to you, you were learning a lot about him and the circumstances that fashioned him in this manner.

“Yes tesoro, sorry for keeping you waiting… what is it?” you were met by a wide-eyed Giorno, and it hit you… Tesoro… the name trickled so effortlessly off your lips, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t really thinking…”

“Don’t apologize amore, as long as it’s you, I don’t mind…” he softly replied, as he stroked your cheek with the back of his forefinger. You heard a faint clatter accompanied by the ring of Giorno’s phone, informing him that there had been a security breach. The soft expression on his face was gone, as he gripped you with a protective arm.

Before you had time to ask him what was going on, you heard your name being called out by a voice you barely remembered, one you didn’t think you’d hear again.

“Mother?” your voice was a whisper. Your mother looked at you, disdain skewing her features before turning her attention to Giorno, whose grip continued to tighten around you.

“(y/n), I’ve come to take you away from here, it’s obvious leaving you in the care of your father was a mistake. And you, step away from her this instant, you will regret it if you don’t,”

You hadn’t noticed the swarm of black suits that had surrounded you all, ready to pounce at Giorno’s command. His intense gaze had not left your face while your mother spoke, searching for the slightest tell indicating you might have known about this, but you were just as perplexed as he was… the guilt of him doubting you twisting his features even further.

“It’s alright, stand down men… while you really have a nerve of breaking into my property, I feel that this can be solved amicably, I’d hate for (y/n) to have to contend with any discord between us,” he spoke with a calm, even voice but that didn’t match the fury brewing in his eyes.

“Amicable? You take my daughter away from her home and you still feel like this is something that can be talked out of? You really are a piece of work!”

“Better to be the overbearing lover than the neglectful mother…” Giorno’s tone was dripping with cynicism as he handed you to one of your awaiting guards.

“You sick bastard!” your mother cried out. As if being pushed back by a glowing force that you couldn’t quite discern, the young don was thrown backwards. You hated feeling so powerless. Giorno sat up and smiled mockingly, before launching into an attack of his own you assumed, as you saw a similar golden glow envelop his body, and the bodies of the security personnel backing him up.

“Please, stop it! All of you!” you wanted to run out between them but you were restrained by your guard. It didn’t take long for Giorno and his men to restrain your mother and her associate, taking care to leave them largely unharmed while you were still present. Giorno had made one fatal error though… blame it on overconfidence or his need to constantly check on you, he had turned away and left himself wide open for a last ditch attack from your mother as she broke free. At that very moment, your body moved itself before you could even think, and faster than you ever thought possible, pushing him out of the way with only a second to spare, as the attack hit the very spot he had stood on just a moment before, shattering the marble flooring on contact. The room was enveloped in silence, Giorno motioned for his guards to leave the room, as did your mother to her partner.

“(y/n) … tesoro mio… are you okay? You… you saved me…” he said as he kneeled next to your shaking, winged form, combing his hands through your hair as he tried to get a look at your face. You looked up to see Giorno with a wide eyed golden figure hovering over him, approaching you was your mother, with a luminescent humanoid woman matching her footsteps.

“Tesoro, it seems you’re a stand user after all,” mentioned Giorno, still gazing at you, this time with an expression you hadn’t seen from him before. Completely overwhelmed by the recent events, you sat for a moment, trying to regulate your breathing with the exercises Giorno practiced with you when your anxiety overwhelmed you.

“So these are what stands are… they look terrifying…” you say, finally managing to normalize your breathing and take command of your senses once again. “where is my stand then? I presume these two figures belong to you and mother.”

“Yours is different amore… are you able to walk? Come with me…” Giorno lead you to one of the mirrors so you could see how your stand manifested; you had large wings that had sprouted from your back, your eyes glowed colorlessly, and you had luminescent geometric patterns running down your face and body, akin to the patterns you would find on a circuit board. “You have what is known as a phenomenon stand, this means that it changes your body rather than manifesting a separate entity,”

“I see…”

“We can figure out the extent of your abilities another time, for now I need to see those injuries,”

“Excuse me? You’re not doing anything further with her, I’m still serious about taking back (y/n),” interjected your mother sarcastically.

“Are you trying to anger me on purpose? I loathe having to repeat myself. Do not mistake my unwillingness to kill you this very instant on anything other than respect for (y/n),”

“Likewise…”

“You’re both so selfish!” surprised to hear you raise your voice that much, both parties were stunned to silence.

“I’m a person with my own will, I have feelings, thoughts, desires, dreams… but neither of you bother to consider any of that… Giorno, you essentially abducted me, under the ruse of protecting me, I’m sure you would have found a way to keep me safe while I lived my own life, if it was that important to you, but you weren’t interested in that… if you had just approached me like a normal person, I’d still have fallen for you… well I guess now we’ll never know … And you… mother- I use that term liberally- abandoned me… abandoned us, I don’t care what the reasons were, you left me to grow up without a mother, and now you come here and ridicule me with this dramatic display of affection,” your voice began to crack but you wouldn’t let them see you cry, not so soon after finally finding your voice, so you left them there and went off to your special spot in the far corner of the estate. You knew that Giorno created that little piece of heaven for you strategically, as it was visible from his study, but it served as your safe place, and it was what you needed right now.

Giorno’s mind was clouded and he felt an uncomfortable suffocating sensation in his chest. Glancing at your mother it was apparent that your emotional outpouring had affected her as well.

“I think its best if you leave,”

“Wait, Giorno… perhaps this approach wasn’t the best way to do this, I underestimated you…”

“For the sake of curiosity, what do you propose?”

“That’s going to depend on how you answer my next question…”

“For someone with as few options as you have, you’re incredibly brazen,” shot back Giorno, clearly becoming tired of the conversation.

“I spoke to her father before coming here… he told me about my son… is… is he dead?” speaking earnestly this time, your mother steeling herself for what the young don would say to her. He observed her intently, debating whether it would be safe to divulge any information to her.

“That’s classified information,” he said, knowing full well that the idiot was alive somewhere, unable to be a threat to anyone again, unfortunately he couldn’t divulge this information to anyone. If she was smart enough she would be able to figure it out for herself, any more than that he could not offer.

“I understand… Fine, I’ll back off, (y/n) can stay here… but I need to speak to her, to explain everything, when she’s ready though…”

Giorno contemplated for a moment, feeling oddly moved by the change in your mother’s demeanor, he found himself agreeing with her, “Fine… I’ll allow it, but I can’t have you here, never again, if you need to see her, we’ll come to you… if that’s all, I need to check on (y/n)” Your mother took her leave, thoughts of the bizarre events of the day dominating her thoughts.

You listlessly played with the water in the fountain you sat beside, eyeing the way the sunshine made the droplets that fell from your fingertips look like gems. Hearing the scrunching sound of grass being stepped on, you knew that Giorno was approaching you. Unwilling to turn around to face him, you continued to look at the water.

“May I sit with you?” his voice was tender and didn’t match his imposing figure. Looking up his striking face, framed by golden waves, you nodded wordlessly.

“Talk to me cara…”

“What do you want me to say?”

“What’s on your mind…”

You paused, thinking carefully before starting to speak. “There’s so much on my mind… I… I just can’t understand you. You bring me here under the most dubious circumstances, but treat me like I’m the center of your world. I want to hate you for taking me away from my world, but I’ve never felt as loved by anyone in that world as much as I do here with you. How can you look at me with eyes so gentle now, when those same eyes were ready to kill not even two hours ago? How am I supposed to make up my mind about you when your every action contradicts the next?”

“It’s simple bella… I love you… you’re above the rules I set for everyone else… my one weakness is you, I’m sorry, I just don’t know how else to be, it’s either everything or nothing. Perhaps, forget about what you think and focus on how you feel… You know, we aren’t that different, the two of us… so many parents between us and barely enough traits among them to make up one good guardian, having to basically raise ourselves, so much pressure from such a young age, being scared of what lurks in the dark, experiencing so much physical pain, you just become immune to it. I have to admit, I was jealous of that brave assault by your mother, I don’t know if anyone would do the same for me… except you of course… you almost died to get me out of harm’s way… and just when I thought I couldn’t love you any more than I do…”

The gentle way he cupped your chin, as if you were made of crystal, and the swirl of emotion in his eyes, compelled you to act on your impulses, kissing him passionately, releasing some of the pent up emotions and frustrations that have been building up for the longest time. His free hand curled itself around your waist, while your hands tangled themselves in his hair. Resting your forehead on his, you hear him murmuring affirmations of his love for you.

“I love you too, Gio,” the words just rolled off your tongue as if you were always meant to say them. Giorno, seemingly moved by your placid declaration, buried his face in your hair, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo that he loved so much. What you didn’t see was the sardonic smile blooming on his handsome face. He always was a master at deception… although, it couldn’t be classified as deception if most of what he said was true… could it? He didn’t want to play the sympathy card today, but it was the only way he could firmly cement your place with him for good. Pulling away for a moment, looking at the love-struck expression on your face as you softly move your hand from his hair to his chest, he could see that you were finally complete- entirely devoted to him… there was no room for guilt this time.

#giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #Hades!Giorno x Persephone! Reader #Hades x Persephone modern AU #yandere jjba prt 5 #yandere giogio #yandere giorno #giorno giovanna #giorno #yandere jjba x reader #kidnapping #manipulation

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minor-solemnity · 3 years

Text

Curiosity pt.6

“Are you implying that I’m not good enough to blackmail?” Which well, that maybe isn’t what you should be annoyed by.

A month passes. You don’t talk in class, just keep your head bowed low, eyes fixed firmly on the ground. You ignore Tom in the hallways and in the lessons you share. You suppose that you should probably revert to calling him Riddle, but referring to a man you’ve had sex with by their last name, even in the comfort of your own head, makes you feel dirty.

He tries to talk to you twice. He doesn’t try a third time.

You don’t tell Marie or Stephanie what’s transpired between you and Tom and eventually, they stop asking. You’re content to let them believe that whatever courtship or relationship they thought had been budding between the two of you had died. It’s easier to pretend that you’re just sad that you’ve missed your chance with Hogwarts’ most sought after bachelor. The truth is so much more complicated.

The last of the bitter Scottish winter gives way into Spring and with it comes blue skies, crisp winds, and luscious greenery. Stephanie’s attention is fixed firmly on the final quidditch matches of the school year and Marie begins her yearly fretting over exams. You’re left in blessed peace to ruminate on and stew in your own misery.

It’s far too early on a Saturday for you to be up, but the Great Hall is always empty until at least nine on the weekends and you’ve taken to avoiding large crowds lest you accidentally run into him. As expected, you’re alone save for the ghosts this morning. You’re stirring honey into your tea when a shadow falls over you. You don’t look up. The shadow coughs politely. You glower at your tea. The shadow sighs and there are footsteps and the sound of someone taking a seat opposite you. When you finally look up, Tom is watching you intently. Merlin, it’s so frustratingly easy to get distracted looking at him. The first thing you notice (and you hate that you do) is that he looks somewhat tense. His expression is a mask of polite indifference and his hands rest casually on the table in front of him but there is a tautness to his posture, as though he’s steeling himself for a fight.

You think that that should please you. At one point, it definitely would have done, but right now you’re still too raw from the events of a month ago to feel anything other than resigned fatigue at his appearance. “You’ve been ignoring me.” He says, and though his tone is placid you can detect a hint of something hard lacing his consonants.

“What good observational skills you have. Though that’s hardly a surprise, seeing as I’ve been on the receiving end of your interest for months at this point.” The anger at your own stupidity and his manipulation rears its head once more and you’re somewhat taken aback by how much venom has crept into your voice.

“Perhaps, if you’d let me explain-”

“No.” You cut him off, gathering your things and shoving them into your bag with more force than is strictly necessary. “No, I will not let you explain. I think you made yourself perfectly clear the last time. You have what you want, your curiosity is sated. You have your own blackmail material on me, should you ever feel the need to use it, and all it took was-” You can’t finish the sentence. All it took was a little flattery and his clever tongue touching and playing with you until you’d… Really, it had taken nothing at all. “I don’t know what else you could possibly need to explain to me. I understand what I am to you and what this entire thing was about. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you just leave me alone.” You don’t hang around to see understanding dawn on Tom’s face, nor do you hang around to see resolve settle firmly on his shoulders.

Fifteen minutes later you’re sat with your arms wrapped tightly around your knees underneath a yew tree by the lake, your bag thrown haphazardly a few feet away. You stare at the lake and determinedly blink back the tears that are threatening to spill down your cheeks. A horrible mix of embarrassment and anger is bubbling in your stomach and your hands shake as you reach down and tug blindly at strands of grass as if they are what your ire is directed at. Merlin, you’ve been stupid. Incredibly, horrendously stupid. You’d known that Riddle was bad news. You hadn’t trusted him from the moment he’d smiled down at you that evening in the dining hall. Almost every meeting between the both of you since had been a constant push and pull, neither of you willing to back down or give way… And now…

Now he has the information that he wanted and the game is up. You’ve lost. And all because somewhere along the line you had forgotten exactly why it was that he’d been interested in you in the first place. You’d let your imagination get the best of you and for a moment you’d let yourself believe that it wasn’t about Mr Larkins anymore. That he was there because of you. Just you and not the secrets that you had tried so hard to keep.

Merlin, what was he going to do with you now that he knew. Blackmailing a teacher (and you have to admit to yourself now that that was exactly what you had been doing) was a serious offence. Enough to get you expelled for sure. Muggles went to prison for blackmail, didn’t they? Would you be sent the Wizengamot? Or would Tom just hold it over your head for eternity? Surely not. He had no use for you now, after all; you can’t keep kidding yourself that he liked or wanted you. You can’t keep kidding yourself that that was part of why this was so painful.

Beyond the fear you feel for your future, rejection is a bitter pill lodged in the back of your throat.

“You might appreciate it if I left you alone, but I’d appreciate it if you stopped running away from me.” Tom’s voice is conversational, cheerful almost. You let out a strangled scream of annoyance. He hums a soft little laugh in response. He settles himself down beside you, long legs stretching out in from him, crossed over at the ankle. You notice he’s holding the folder. “You honestly think I’d blackmail you?” He asks, still in that conversational toned and you feel your hackles rise.

“Are you implying that I’m not good enough to blackmail?” Which well, that maybe isn’t what you should be annoyed by.

“You seem intent on misunderstanding everything I have to say, I see.” He says and, at last, something approaching annoyance enters his voice. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s frowning slightly. As in the Great Hall, his posture suggests he’s at ease, he’s taken his tie off and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone. But something is lurking beneath his relaxed exterior that suggests he’s nervous. “I have no intention of blackmailing you. At first, perhaps, but not any longer. And…” You drop the pretence of not looking at him entirely and turn full to face him. He doesn’t look at you and you get the impression that whatever he’s trying to say does not come easily. “I apologise if that’s the impression I gave you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise at the apology, which whilst stilted, appears genuine. Then, almost immediately after narrow in suspicion and indignation. “What other impression could you possibly have given me? Apart from, maybe, toying with me for your own amusement.” You ask acidly.

His jaw clenches and you notice dimly that he’s making hardly any effort to hide his emotions. He’s almost an open book. Which is… strange. You’re reminded of all the times that Tom’s treatment of you has left you feeling confused. Confused because he doesn’t act the same way around you as he does with the rest of your peers. He’ll put on a facade of politeness, sometimes, but it usually unravels within minutes. You’ve watched him charm and flatter the worst of your professors, that small careful smile never faltering until they’re putty in his hands.

He’s tried to intimidate, taunt, and seduce you but he’s never tried to charm you. The realisation hits you harder than you’d like. But so what that Tom doesn’t seem to think you’re worth the effort? Does it matter that he drops his perfect little persona around you? Yes, the quiet, treacherously hopeful voice in your mind whispers, yes it matters. Of course, it matters.

“That we were having fun, perhaps?” He says at last and he looks pained just saying it. As though telling you that some part of him had enjoyed your company and had assumed that you enjoyed his is physically uncomfortable to admit. Maybe it is. “That I believed you and I had some level of understanding regarding our relationship?”

You ask incredulously, “Has this been your way of flirting with me, Tom?” At the sound of his name on your lips, he turns to face you and you can practically see him come undone. His throat constricts around a swallow and you can’t stop yourself from tracing the column of his neck to where his collarbones, surprisingly delicate and sharp protrude from the collar of his open shirt with your eyes. He follows your gaze intently. “You never tried to charm me.” You murmur, finally bring your gaze to meet his.

“I’ve only ever been honest with you,” He replies, his voice equally soft. An admission that his persona is mostly a lie, used to trick and manipulate everyone else. Maybe that should put you off, make you turn away from him for good. It doesn’t. “You can’t blame me for wanting to know you when the few things I did know were so interesting. You can’t blame me for liking you more when I found out the rest.” It’s strange, knowing that the parts of you that usually stop people from liking or trusting you are what draws him to you. Then again, maybe it isn’t strange at all. You’re remarkably similar in so many ways, after all. “I thought, perhaps, that you regretted it.” Regretted me, is what he means. Is what he won’t say. Is what you hear nonetheless.

You’ll need to talk more later; you need to know what he intends to do with the knowledge of your blackmailing schemes but later. Right now… You lick your lower lip and you don’t miss the way he tracks the movement. “I don’t. Regret it.” He nods once, a short decisive shake of his head. You’ve made up your mind. “You should kiss me now.” And he does. He shifts and suddenly you’re being dragged to his side, one large hand curving around your waist and another cupping your jaw, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You feel like maybe, you’ve just won the best kind of game there is.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #minific

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Doll Me Up (P.5)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Five) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 3,059 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior Author’s Note: I’m not sure if this is the last part but I’m leaning towards it.

Part Four || Part Six || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Five and a half months ago…

Tony blinked against the sun as they left the news station. Y/N had facilitated a project, along with others, to bring seniors more fresh produce in their Meals on Wheels local program. She was excited about the project and Tony honestly could not give two shits about it but if it made her happy, he was happy to be there with her. He loved seeing the joyous smile on her face and her enthusiasm talking about it.

His hand was wrapped tightly around her waist as they walked out towards his car. And his smile only faltered when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd across the street. And a face he did not want to be seeing in public like this. And they were staring directly at him, like they had been waiting for him.

Tony turned to Y/N and whispered in her ear, “I need to go to the restroom.”

“We were just inside,” she jested. “Why didn’t you go then?”

“I didn’t have to go then. Here.” He opened the door for her, letting her get in. “I’ll be right back.”

To Happy, he whispered, “Fabian.”

“What do you want me to do?” Happy asked quietly, keeping his sights on Tony and not being obvious.

“Stay here with Y/N. I’ll be right back.”

“Boss—”

“He’s not going to lay a finger on me.” Tony said and Happy looked at him disbelieving. Tony was being overconfident about it and he knew it but he could not accept lowlifes trying to approach him in public like this. “Stay here with her. I’ll be back.”

Tony walked away from the car, moving back down the sidewalk. He spotted Fabian moving through it and he smirked to himself. He walked past the news station doors, and down the immediate alley.

He was waiting when Fabian entered the alley, standing dead center, hands in his pockets. If looks could smite, Fabian would have burned on the spot. “What makes you think you can come up to me in public?”

“You haven’t been returning my calls I’ve been leaving!”

“Yeah and for good reason. You’re unhinged!”

“That wasn’t my—"

Tony stepped closer, spitting, “You listen closely, Fabian, I am done with you and your bullshit! You are done. Do you get that? You had your chance and you fucked up. And I cannot be seen in public with you. You know that though. You squeal to anyone and you won’t just have me after you, you’ll have the whole city gunning for you with how many people are tied to it and you will. not. win. If you ever come up to me in public again – especially when I’m out with my wife – I will kill you on the spot.”

Tony straightened out his jacket before storming away from the man who was staring at him slack jacked. Tony did not give him a moment to respond before he was around him and striding back down the alley.

When he got into the car, Y/N was none the wiser.

She was immediately back into conversation, talking about what good this interview was going to do for the project and thanking him for coming along with her. Tony smiled sweetly, listening intently. His adoration for her wove deeply. He truly had recovered a true gem from the rabble.

<><><>

You stared at the door in bewilderment before touching it again. F.R.I.D.A.Y. repeated, “You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

“Excuse me?” you word vomited.

“Do you need me to repeat the message, Mrs. Stark?”

You hated how calm F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded.

“Override,” you tried.

“You do not have authorization to do that, Mrs. Stark.”

“Why can’t I go outside?”

“Mr. Stark blocked access at this door.”

You let out a frustrated noise before turning away from the door. You walked to the bedroom door, feeling the ache but you had to know. You walked down the stairs, taking them slowly. You went to the closest patio door, gripping the handle tightly.

“You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

Breathing heavily through your nose, trying to keep yourself calm, you turned your head eyeing the next patio door.

Her voice was becoming quickly annoying. “You’re not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

You took off around the mansion, trying all the doors leading to the outside but you got the same code when it read your fingerprint. You made your way to the front door, the door to the garage, out to the garden. It was all the same message. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, it sinking in that you were locked inside.

The thought of the kitchen door out to the pool came to you and you moved as quickly as you could there. You stalled seeing Happy standing in there, cutting an apple. He stilled seeing you and you did not miss the sly look he gave you as you moved through the kitchen, past the island where he was standing.

The same goddamn message.

You whipped around and stared at Happy.

“Let me out!” you demanded.

“I can’t override what the boss has inputted into the security system. You know that,” Happy said in passive tone, looking completely indifferent to how worked up you were.

“Where is he?”

“He left earlier.”

“Well, did he happen to mention to you why he was locking me inside?” you exasperated, throwing your hands out at your sides.

Happy sucked at his teeth, leveling you with a serious look. “Y/N, do you really need to be asking me that? Truly?”

You bit your cheeks to avoid shouting at him and forced yourself to turn on your heel and storm out of the room away from him. You made your way back up the stairs, going for your bedroom where your cell was waiting on the bedside table. Snatching it off the table, you pressed Tony’s name.

“Yes, kitten?” he answered calmly.

“Your stupid AI won’t let me out!” you exclaimed.

“Yeah, I programmed that this morning.”

“You…,” you started to argue but then your voice went up a notch, trying to whine. “Daddy, you can’t keep me locked in here!”

“Can’t or shouldn’t? Because it looks like I’m already doing it, so I apparently can,” Tony replied coolly.

“You shouldn’t then!” You added for good measure quickly, “Please!”

Tony’s tone was firm when he told you, “I think I very well should. You crossed a lot of lines and I am not fucking around when I tell you that they were lines that shouldn’t be crossed. You brought this on yourself, Y/N. Maybe if you spent less time throwing tantrums and more time listening to me, you wouldn’t have found yourself here. And hopefully you won’t again. I certainly hope you won’t again. I know you can do better.”

You were quiet, biting back tears. You thought you would be cuddling this morning, everything slowly falling back to normal.

He heard you sniffle and the sound of it elicited a soft sigh from him. “Princess, you can earn my trust back. I’m a reasonable man.”

“I said I was sorry,” you said tearfully.

“Oh, I know you did. And it was heartfelt. And you did so very well last night. I was impressed by you. Truly, baby. But I need to be sure you understand how serious I am that I don’t want you to repeat that. Ever.”

You asked weakly, “When are you coming back?”

“Tonight. I won’t leave you for long. And I’m going to bring you something. But you need to just sit tight. Be good for Happy.”

You did not answer because you were staring out the window, grinding your teeth.

“Princess?”

His voice snapped you back to reality and you got out, “I’ll be good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. By the way, I set up an appointment for you today, last minute. It’s a virtual meeting. Happy knows about it, he’ll help you. OB/GYN. F.R.I.D.A.Y will scan you, the baby, send it to her and she’ll correspond.”

“She’ll correspond with… F.R.I.D.A.Y?” you asked slowly.

“Just this one time. I promise we have a real appointment next week. I’ll be at every one after this and we will do it in person. Cross my heart.”

Your voice was small, “Okay.”

“I’ll see you later. Be good.”

“I will, daddy.”

He hung up and you pulled the phone away from your ear, staring down at it. He was acting weird. He acknowledged what had happened but moved so seamlessly into baby talk and appointments.

How were you going to relax knowing you were stuck in here?

<><><>

Five months ago…

The art show was boring and even more so for the afterpart of it. You had no desire to speak to anyone about it and they were all gathered in the large center room drinking wine and having finger foods. You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom and you removed your underwear, tossing them into the trash bin before leaving to find Tony,

Tony was speaking to someone, sitting on a set of small chairs. The sight of you caught his attention and you put your finger to your lips. He only spared you a second’s confused look before looking back at the man. But his gaze found you again quickly, curiosity getting the better of him. Over the man’s shoulder, hidden from the rest of the room by the large plant, you opened the slit in your dress, showing Tony you were not wearing any underwear. He began to smile and hid it by his hand came to his mouth, it balling into a fist as he stared daggers at you. You gave him a wide, tantalizing grin, beginning to walk backwards towards the doorway to the adjacent hallway.

You left him sitting on the couch, dropping your dress. The hallway was empty, and you walked slowly down it, taking in the art.

It did not take long for you to hear footsteps behind you, and you looked over your shoulder finding a very hot and bothered Tony coming down towards you. He wasted no time pushing you into the corner at the turn in the hall, his hands snaking up your dress. You turned your head, giving a throaty laugh.

“Listen here… if you wanna come, you better look at me,” Tony husked.

“There’s people—”

“You started it.”

You nipped at his nose and he buried his face into your neck in return. He resumed pressing you into the wall, his fingers slipping in to work you up.

<><><>

Three months ago…

People were outside in the pool, drunk in the summer sun. You though, you were inside, sitting against the wall, pouting. Some of your old escort friends had shown up per request for the guests attending and told you they were planning a trip to Vancouver to do some shopping and ‘go out on the town’ in a few weekends. You had been excited about the prospect, you had not been out like that for a long time. When you had left the group though and leaned over Tony’s shoulder at the poker game to tell him about it, he had waved you off.

“You’re not going,” had been his exact words.

Instead of going back to the girls, you had gone inside, not wanting to tell them the bad news. At the inside bar, you had taken a couple of shots and made sure Tony saw you walk by the window. You tossed him a glare as you passed. Him and his stupid open shirt over his dumb swim trunks – that you had specifically picked out earlier this week when you were shopping – could get fucked right now for all you cared.

It was not too long before Tony appeared in front of you, peering down at you, looking ever piqued. He was not happy you were sulking.

“You know, you’re really bringing down my mood, princess. Glaring at me like that because I had the audacity to deny you one thing out of millions.”

“Then stop looking at me,” you retorted, avoiding his eyes, still staring off out towards the pool party.

You heard him scoff and he said, “Don’t even try to throw a tantrum right now.”

“I’m not. I’m just sitting here.”

“Looking like I killed your fucking dog.”

You merely shrugged aggressively in response.

He gestured out towards the patio doors. “You know they’re only going to get in trouble up there. And I don’t want you to get wrapped up in it.”

“So, you don’t trust me to be faithful,” you said finally making eye contact with him.

Tony held up a finger to you and corrected firmly, “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s exactly what you’re saying!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands down beside you on the bench. “You don’t trust me!”

“Don’t try to make this into something that it’s not. I don’t trust them to keep you out of trouble,” Tony retorted. “You know how they are! You were – are – friends with them for fucks sake!” You opened your mouth to argue and he cut you off. “No, I’m done with this conversation. You know what I meant. I’m sorry that you are upset but there’s a reason I’m saying no to it. Now, either shape up and come back outside or go upstairs if you’re going to just glower at me.”

Clenching your jaw, you stood up angrily and stormed off away from him towards the upstairs.

You decided on a whim to leave, grabbing a swim suit cover and throwing some sandals on. Downstairs you ran into one of Tony’s guys and you stopped because of the way he was staring at you. You had wanted to leave without anyone noticing but seemed like that was not going to be the case.

His eyes ran over you, taking you in. “You alright?” he asked curiously, his eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, peachy. Have fun with your dumb poker game,” you spat at him before turning and walking to the front door.

You got into the car, turning it on angrily. You knew you should not be driving but you just did not want to be at home anymore. And Cassandra’s was not too far away, only twenty five minutes or so. You took off down the driveway, actually smirking of the look on his face when F.R.I.D.A.Y informed Tony you had left whenever he decided to check in on you. That should be awhile because he had been on a winning roll.

<><><>

He did not announce himself and you only realized he was home because F.R.I.D.A.Y came over the speaker in the living room informing you, “Dinner is ready in the kitchen.”

When you walked into the kitchen, he was a complete 180 from the night before. He walked up, giving you a kiss on the forehead, asking then sincerely, “How was your day?”

“Fine…” you said, trailing off, giving him a curious look at his nonchalant demeanor.

He brushed it off, grasping your hand and began to lead you to your plate he had set up on the island next to one for him. “That’s good, kitten. Here. I hope you’re hungry.” He immediately paused and said under his breath, “Fuck. Hold on.”

Tony walked off to the pantry and your eyes wandered to the counter. You looked down at the plate and saw it was the dish from your favorite date night restaurant. He did that on purpose, you thought immediately. To remind you he remembered things you liked. To get you something that you did like. It was like an apology, extending an olive branch. This is how he knew how to apologize, with gifts.

You waited patiently until he came back with a long lighter. He smiled at you, lighting the small candle on the counter in between your plates. “Just like at the restaurant.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the small touch.

“Sorry, it’s just sparkling cider,” he told you, gesturing at the glass in front of your plate. He held up his bourbon and took a swift drink.

“It’s fine, thanks,” you said, picking up your fork and taking a bite. You savored the taste, chewing slowly.

Silence fell over the table and the two of you ate, both staring down at your plates as you ate. There was something hanging in the air between you and you just wanted to know what.

You got your answer soon enough. Tony’s sigh was heavy as he dropped his fork to his plate. “You know… I do have to apologize.”

That caught your attention.

“I hate doing it. You know I do,” he said, giving a little nervous laugh. “Admitting I’m wrong. Goes against everything in my genes. But… I could—should have done better with aftercare. The bath was bare minimum. I know you need more. We talked about it. And I… I lost my temper. And that’s not fair of me when I’m in the position I am in.”

He had your rapt attention, you tracking his every word. What he said was not untrue – you two had had a conversation about aftercare, especially when it came to punishments. He seemed genuine in his apology.

Tony made eye contact with you, grasping your hand. “In the future, especially during your pregnancy—” He cut off. “And I looked at the report. Everything seems to be okay?” You nodded and he nodded in return, “Good. Good… I need to be more careful. I need to do better. So… I’m sorry.”

You chewed your lip, taking what he said in. He was waiting for you to respond, to say anything, his eyes desperately searching yours.

“I accept your apology,” you told him.

Tony was pleased, his frame relaxing immediately at your forgiveness. Your hand was brought to his lips for a quick kiss. “You’re good. So good.” He stepped closer, and his free hand came to the side of your face, looking into your eyes deeply. “So, after dinner… maybe I can lotion you down?”

“The raspberry shea?”

“Yes, of course. Whatever you want.”

Three words he always said but did not seem to follow through on.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls, @teenageregression, @mrsnegan25

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #dark marvel #marvel fic #my shit

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simoviacourt · 3 years

Text

Channel 6 studios, outskirts of Zonneminster, late August - roughly three months have passed

*NOTE: this is a VERY long and text-heavy post discussing the current Simovian political situation, consider yourself warned*

Arturo: Good evening to our viewers and of course to our amazing studio audience! Welcome to another evening with The Talk! Tonight we’re going to dive into all the latest news of the week and with me around the table I have our wonderful guests for the night...

Arturo: (continued) First, let me present to you Anne Kortehof, the controversial yet always impeccably stylish Queen of Simstagram!

Anne: Thank you Arturo, happy to be here tonight!

Arturo: We also have Simovia’s national pride and the newly minted captain of our national football team… Elmer De Marees! What do you think, will we bring home the world championship this year?

Elmer: We’ve got some tough opponents but the team and I will be giving it our best!

Arturo: Great to hear, it really has been too long! Then, I’m happy to introduce to you a woman I greatly admire - Iza Laan, the founder of the political think tank “Future Solutions” and the youngest woman to appear on the cover of Money Monthly! Welcome!

Iza: Thanks, Arturo, it’s a pleasure!

Arturo: And finally, my very good friend and a man whom we all adore - Nandu Talkar!

(huge applause from the audience)

Nandu: Thanks Ar, great to be here, as always!

Arturo: Now, a little bird told me that you might have some new songs to share with us later tonight…

Nandu: Only if you behave…

(audience laughs)

Arturo: I’m sure I have no idea what you mean! But, first, let’s dive into this week’s headlines...

Arturo: (continued) Well, now that the summer is over, our newly elected parliament is in session, with a new prime minister! On Monday Her Royal Majesty officially took Mr Caan’s pledge of fealty and opened the parliament for the year...

(booing from the audience)

Arturo: Ah, it would seem that not everyone has much love for the Prime Minister..

Anne: Or they don’t see why a man should have to kneel in front of a useless woman…

Nandu: Oh wow, are we even five minutes in?

Iza: Well, I think that’s the last time we will see that man kneeling in front of anyone.

Arturo: Not a fan of Mr Caan’s, Iza?

Iza: Not exactly, no, though I know Anne here adores the man.

Anne: Me and half the country.

Iza: Which still seems ludicrous to me. But, populists will always have their appeal, I suppose.

Anne: If by populist you mean that he isn’t afraid to go against the mainstream and say things as they are, then yeah, there’s definitely an appeal. Finally we have a prime minister who won’t play the same old political games that all the others have. Someone who will put Simovian interests first.

Iza: And what does that even mean? He’d close our borders and end all international collaboration...

Anne: Which brought us to war once already and how well did that work out for us.

(cheers from the audience)

Iza: International collaboration also has created thousands of new jobs and there are countless businesses that rely on the good relations that the Queen works hard to foster.

Anne: Ah yes, you’re one of those!

Iza: I beg your pardon?

Anne: Monarchists… you lot always --

Arturo: Hey hey loving the exchange of views but let’s keep it civil!

Elmer: This is exactly why I avoid these conversations.

Nandu: You and me both…

Iza: Easy for you both, with all respect. De Marees, doesn’t your grandfather sit in the House of Lords?

Elmer: Yes, but…

Anne: The elite couldn't care less about the dealings of this country as long as they’re comfortable.

Nandu: (laughs) Ha, that’s the first time someone has ever counted me among the elite!

Anne: Well you mingle with them often enough… aren’t you friends with the Queen?

Nandu: I’ve even never had the pleasure to meet Her Royal Majesty.

Anne: Well, Prince Andrew then?

Nandu: I have met His Royal Highness and attended events with him, yes… but whether we’re friends, hard to say. He’s a nice guy, though, excellent company. But that doesn’t make me one of this “elite” you keep mentioning on your socials. I’ve worked hard to get where I am today.

Iza: Yet your current position allows you to claim this apolitical stance.

Nandu: Just because I don’t like talking about politics doesn’t mean I don’t care or vote, for that matter. I’m not clueless. My family still can’t vote in this country and though I was born here and grew up here, I doubt Mr Caan and his party would consider me Simovian.

Anne: That’s not true, he has nothing against new Simovians.

Nandu: As opposed to what? The old Simovians? How many generations does it take to belong to that group?

Iza: And that’s just one of the reasons that I’m not a fan of Mr Caan, as you put it Arturo. His rhetoric is divisive at best and blatantly xenophobic at worst. And now he is the prime minister. I’m actually not a monarchist, there are so many things wrong with the institution but it’s times like these that I’m happy that we have a Queen who can push back on what he’d otherwise do to our country.

Anne: Have you ever actually talked to him or attended one of his seminars? He has great plans for Simovia! I know that the media loves to paint him as this xenophobic loudmouth but he’s actually a really lovely man. He’s well educated but he doesn’t hide in his ivory tower. He knows that the people want freedom and he’s willing to give it to them.

Iza: You can’t be serious… freedom to what? Starve and end up on the street with no healthcare? I’ve read through his plans, they’re now out there on the government’s website and what I see is...

Anne: He just wants to encourage people to make the best choices in their own lives. Being controlled by some big political machine won’t let people do that. If you just opened your eyes, I’m sure you could see that.

Iza: I… Arturo please can we move on? Seriously... I can’t believe that I’m forced to debate politics with someone who clearly has no understanding of how society functions.

Arturo: Now Iza, she does have a right to her opinion… but, it is about time we moved on. After the break, more engagement rumours between Her Royal Majesty the Queen and His Grace the Landgraaf van Hoensbroek...

#ts4 royal simblr #ts4 story #ts4 storytelling #simoviacourt #and we're back!#part one to get you up to speed #this post was originally twice as long but I've split it up for all our sakes

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lunnybunny12 · 3 years

Text

Sandor Clegane X reader (Rory)

MODERN AU

A/N: This is a modern AU based off of this headcanon.

Word count: 2036

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, mentions of death

Master List

As an Infantry Soldier, Sandor served in the field, working to defend his country against any threats on the ground. He'd capture, destroy, and deter enemy forces, assist in reconnaissance, and help mobilize troops and weaponry to support the mission as the ground combat force. He'd seen good people get murdered, shot, hanged, killed. People with families to get back to and friends who would miss them. Sandor had neither, and yet he was allowed to return.

He took a large gulp of his drink and looked at his surroundings. Sandor had been to the bar many times before and the familiar hum of other patrons as they'd pull frothing glasses of beer to their lips was there like always. He heard the occasional clicks from the back where the pool-tables were placed. The smell of alcohol, snow and pine-scented air freshener drifted through the air as you dragged a damp rag across the bar.

"Oi Barkeep. Beer." Sandor called, fiddling some change from his pocket.

"Keys first, Dogface. Then you can drink," You retorted, not moving from your place at the bar. (Dogface- A nick-name for Infantrymen because they sleep in "Pup-tents" and hide in "dugouts")

Sandor sighed in annoyance and paused to look at you. It hadn't been the first time you had told him this, he never understood why but he knew full well that you weren't joking with him.

"Again?"

"Yes, again. now hand them over."

He begrudgingly did as he was told and slid the car keys across the bar, avoiding your outstretched hand completely. You snatched them away and placed them in your pocket, with a fake glare.

"Good boy. They'll be in the same place when you come to pick them up tomorrow." You said popping of the cap of a beer and sliding it towards him and going back to cleaning the bar.

"You're lucky you're one of the few people I can stand in this town" He grumbled.

"Oh I feel so honoured" you joked and rolled your eyes.

Since there were other customers to attend to you couldn't talk long, but it's not like he'd say much to you anyway. The community he had found himself in was quite tight-knit. Everyone knew everyone and it was tricky to not run into someone who had something to talk about. Sandor however was a very quiet individual who often kept to himself making him stand out to many of the residents.

As the night continued and other staff started their shifts, Sandor found himself looking at you from time to time. He watched you collect glasses, chat to customers, tell jokes and take orders. He found himself doing it allot recently and he didn't understand why. At some points, he had even begun te eavesdrop on your conversations since he had nothing better to do.

"Ah (y/n) hows Rory? Heard the lad had an accident" A customer asked as you took their order.

Sandor's ears pricked up. He'd never heard of a Rory before at least not from you, and from what he knew there wasn't a Rory in the village.

"Yeah, the silly thing fell down the stairs and hurt his leg. He's upstairs having a lie-down. he should be up and about in a few days though," You chuckled.

You had changed so much since he was dragged off to the army. You weren't a crazy teenager anymore but a grown woman, with a proper paying job and a life outside of work. Yet you were still the same when it came to your personality: humerus, silly, carefree, cheerful and stupid... my god were you stupid, you had to have been to be his friend.

"Right, consider me.. clocked out" You smiled to yourself and looked at Sandor.

"Why do you need to clock out? You own the bloody place." Sandor said.

"Yes, but its this new fangled technology thing that Mr Ray insisted I use, and you know what he's like. 'His town his rules.' Plus it helps me keep tabs on whos working."

"At least you understand half of the tripe you just said." Sandor joked taking another sip of his drink.

You rolled your eyes and patted his shoulder as you headed towards the door. "Goodnight everyone!" You yelled earning a cheer of goodnights.

Everything was different when Sandor went away. One day he was there and the next he wasn't, no warning, just a letter that said that he had been accepted into the army and to not expect him back for a long time, that was if he came back at all.

When he did eventually return he had also changed. His personality remained the same, as you expected but he had changed physically. He was taller, broader and stronger and his hair had been cut making his burn a more prominent feature.

If it was up to you, you would've stayed away from him but since yours was the only bar in town, he would come for a drink. Out of politeness you talked to him and sent the occasional harmless jab his way and in return he was civil. You were still angry that he hadn't said goodbye but you still cared, you must have done to take his keys.

It was misty that morning. All mornings were misty since the Autumn season rolled around. You loved Autumn. You loved the feeling of the wind rushing past your face and how the leaves crunched beneath your boots. Your favourite place to walk was at the park and since Rory had stopped limping around your apartment, you thought the park was a good idea.

Rory was a large thing. The hound was easily half your height when stood on all fours and towered above you when on his hind. In his youth, he would have been jet black and full of energy but as he aged, the fur around his snout and paws had dimmed to a light grey and he had mellowed out.

As you walked along the wet grass a sudden yelp bit through the air.

"Someone get their fucking dog!"

You immediately ran to the voice to see Sandor, on the ground with your dog licking his face.

"Rory! come here. You silly thing" you laughed as you latched the lead onto the dog's collar and pulled him away from Sandor.

The man looked awful. His hair was a mess and he was covered in dirt. The shirt he wore was the same as the day prior and he seemed half asleep.

"Were you sleeping in the bush?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine thanks for asking" Sandor huffed as he pulled himself off of the grass.

He was in a mood and in all honesty, you would be too if you were sleeping in a bush.

"What kind of dog is that? Looks like a living mop"

"He's a wolfhound and I can guarantee he's cleaner than you."

"Well, you try and stay clean when you've been sleeping in the park for 5 days," Sandor growled, dusting off some leaves from his pants.

"5 days?" you asked. "You've been sleeping here for 5 DAYS! What happened to your apartment?"

"No money to pay for an apartment."

"What about your job?"

"Why do you care?" Sandor asked, bending down to grab the blanket that was hidden in the shrubbery. He was about to walk away until you stood in front of him with a serious look.

"I care because we were friends once and I'll be dumbed if I let my friend sleep in the cold. So I will ask again... What about your job?"

The look Sandor gave you wasn't out of shock or surprise. It was a look of familiarity. A look of relaxed friendliness that you hadn't seen since before he left.

Sandor sighed and scratched his neck. " My job fired me a few weeks ago. Said that 'I have talents that could be useful elsewhere.'"

"They fired you without reason?"

"I stacked boxes (Y/n) and that's all I did."

"Load of cunts," you sighed. "Right you're coming home with me, you're gonna get a shower and we can talk about a job later."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"No, but you're getting it anyway. Follow me Dogface."

A month had passed since then and things once again changed.

You gave Sandor a job at the bar more suited to his skillset and became the security. The town was a tourist hotspot in the summer months and you would get the occasional rowdy bunch that you nor the rest of the residents liked to deal with. In the other months, Sandor would just hang around, help with any shipments that required heavy lifting and occasionally cover for a staff member. Since you couldn't have him sleeping in his car or in a bush you gave him the spare room in your apartment and when he could afford it he insisted on paying rent and wouldnt take no for an answer.

One day when Sandor came back from his shift, he was met with you, laying on the couch with Rory draped over you with his head on your chest. Rory had done this more than once and you thought it was adorable, whether it was to protect you or because he was cold you didn't know but it was adorable just the same.

"You look comfortable," Sandor said slipping off his shoes at the door.

"Oh, I am. Very much so. I was in the mood for cuddles and since you weren't here Rory stepped up" you joked, petting the sleeping dog.

At the corner of your eye, you saw Sandor's demeanour change. He straightened his posture and took a sharp breath in.

"You alright?

"I'm fine. move your legs." Sandor said sitting on the couch beside you as he leaned to grab the tv remote.

He had been doing that a lot. Whenever you joked about ding something a couple would do, he would shy away or close himself off and to be honest you were only half-joking. It why you were so upset when he left without a word of warning. You liked him but if he liked you was a different story.

"You jealous?" You asked

"Jealous?" Sandor chuffed. "Of Rory? Nah. You wouldn't go for an old dog like him"

"I like old dogs. They have more charm and personality than the younger ones." You answered as you ran your fingers through Rory's fur and kissed him on the head.

Sandor sighed and continued to look at the TV. He looked so handsome to you, he always did. Sure he was rough around the edges but its what drew you to him in the first place.

"I like you too, you know."

"What?" Sandor laughed and looked a you. He thought you were joking like you usually did but by the look on your face, you weren't.

By that point Rory had jumped off of the couch to get some water, allowing you to sit properly.

"I like you, Dogface."

"In what way?"

"In a romantic way... since before you left" a second of silence cut between you when you started laughing at yourself. Like a real laugh. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, it's not like you feel the same anyways."

"How do you know I don't like ya?"

"Look at me, Sandor. The only men in my life are you, the customers and my dog, I'm not exactly a noble-born am I? Just a daft bar made"

You stood up and walked to the fridge to grab a few beers.

"I like a daft bar made. They're way more entertaining than the smart ones."

"Very funny" you said handing him a bottle and sitting back on the couch with a huff.

"I also like my bar made: brave, and strong, and funny. With... a nice dog and a home of her own. Look, I like you too. I like being around you. I...I like your face."

You laughed and shuffled closer to him and leant your head on his shoulder.

"Cute" you mumbled and leant up to kiss his cheek. " I like your face too"

#game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x you #sandor the hound clegane #sandor x reader #the hound x reader #the hound #sandor clegane deserves the world #house clegane

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bts-hyperfixation · 3 years

Text

Why Not Then? 18+

Here it is in all it s 4327 words.... This one kind of got away from me.

angst/fluff/smut

I hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex

pic found here

Tonight’s the night. At least that’s what you were telling yourself. Senior prom. It’s now or never. Tonight is the night you are going to tell Jungkook how you really feel about him. He has to feel the same way, you are inseparable. There is no doubt in your mind that the only obstacle in the way is fear, not wanting to ruin the friendship you had worked so hard to build. The doorbell sounds through your house and you take a deep breath. For the hundredth time that day you look in the mirror. Curls frame your face, makeup done to perfection, and the seafoam A-line dress you had chosen made you feel like a queen. Your mother calls you downstairs, you can hear your father making polite conversation with your date as they wait for you. Another reason you are so sure Jungkook feels the same, he is your date. He could’ve had any other girl in school, but he asked you.

The moment you descend from the top of the stairs is like a movie. His goofy little bunny smile lights up his face when he sees you. You try as elegantly as possible to parade down the stairs, using one hand to lift the hemline of your dress, as the other glides along the bannister. You take your time. Eyeing him up as you go, the tuxedo was such a stark difference to his usual gym shorts. He was stunning. His short dark hair quaffed and gelled. Everything was going to go as planned tonight. You could just feel it.

“You look beautiful as ever” he laughs taking your hand and spinning you. You can’t help giggling.

“Not too bad yourself.” You pull on the lapels of his jacket. He bats you away a straightens himself back up just as the flash goes off on your mother’s camera. She arranges the two of you in to ten different poses before letting you leave. Jungkook had driven his beat-up convertible to pick you up. To anyone else that car would be an eyesore, but he loved it, and so did you. So many nights spent just talking and looking up at the stars, cuddled up under an old picnic blanket. To you it was a pumpkin carriage.

He opens your door for you and helps to fold your skirt so it wouldn’t rip in the limited space. He runs to the other side and jumps over the door and into his seat. Your parents wave you off as you pull away. It’s a short drive to the school. 10 minutes at most. He parks like a pro, doing that thing that guys do when they reverse into a space. The twisting just so you can see more of their neck and watch how their arms flex around the back of your headrest. You start to climb out of the seat when suddenly he is in front of you, hand extended to help you. It’s hard not to laugh at how hard he is trying to be a proper gentleman tonight.

“Come on Y/N-ah, the night of our dreams awaits.” He quotes the prom theme. The unbelievably cringy and cliched ‘night of our dreams’. Walking through the doors, it was still blatantly obvious you were in the school gym, but the prom committee at least tried their best. Tacky streamers in blues and silvers, star themed props, a solar system themed photo booth. Its clear they had to use some of the previous year’s decorations, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The butterflies were building in your stomach. Anxious and excited about where your confession could take you.

All of your other friends are already here, dancing to the catchy pop music blaring over the sound system. The path to them is crowded with other sweating high-schoolers, so Jungkook decides just the two of you should go and take photos. He pulls you towards the photo booths, lining up with the other groups and couples waiting their turns. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he is still holding on to your hand. Tight.

“Don’t you want to go dance with the others?” you gesture towards those in the middle of the floor, laughing as one of the boys loses his balance mimicking a slut drop.

“No, I want to take some stupid pictures with my best friend and date for the evening.” He winks at you, a move that should come off as light -hearted and cringy. Instead it feels like he has shot you in the heart. The response you come back with shocks you.

“Just because you’re in love with me.” You accompany the remark by sticking your tongue out at him. He grabs your chin and makes you look him directly in the eyes. Your heart beats double time. It looks like he is going to kiss you. Before his face gets close enough to yours, he ruins it.

“You wish Y/N.” he laughs it off, but you see it as your chance. Now or never, tonight’s the night…

“Actually…” and then it’s your turn for pictures. You don’t get a chance to get the rest of the sentence out. Whether he heard or not you don’t know but now he is excitedly rummaging around a box of props. He pulls out a silver feather boa and oversized-blue sunglasses for you, finding a matching set for himself. It’s a strip of four photos. One smile, one where he jabs you in the ribs, one with silly faces, and one where you kiss him… only on the cheek. Not enough to throw yourself in the deep end, just enough to gauge his reaction.

His ears turn bright red and he stammers about going to find the others as you exit the booth. It has to be a good sign if you make him flustered, right? The next hour is spent ruining all the work that had gone into this evening. Hair stuck to sweaty foreheads, makeup creasing around the eyes, lipstick wiped on the backs of hands. When the live band comes onto play, you and your friends head outside for air. It’s nice feeling the wind, a slight chill in the late hour. Most of your friends can’t hack it for too long, choosing to return to the dance floor in time for the party tracks to come on. Eventually it leaves just you and him. You hear the opening chords of the cha cha slide start up inside and decide now is a good a time as ever, more than eager to avoid the choreographed dance portion of the evening.

“Can I talk to you?” you reach for his hand. He turns to look at you properly and sees the serious look on your face, his brows furrowing to match.

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing’s wrong, just come with me.” He lets you drag him away from the gym. You head toward the school greenhouse, no one is going to come looking for you there.

“This is weirdly private Y/N, are you sure everything is okay?” he feels your forehead as if he is worried you have suddenly fallen ill.

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for the longest time and I can’t not anymore, it’s time.” He opens his mouth to speak again, the confusion evident in his eyes. You raise a finger to his lip to stop him. “I’m in love with you.” The words escape more like vomit than a statement. It feels so freeing to get the words out. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. Finally admitting how you feel is an amazing feeling. Until you take in the way he is looking at you. You might as well have grown a second head. Your about to speak again when he turns on his heel and makes a run for it.

He walks briskly away from the concealed shed and back inside of the school. You don’t know if you should laugh or cry. Of all the responses you thought you’d get; abandonment was not one of them. It takes you a moment to snap out of the shock he had left you in. you follow the trail he took back into the main hall. Spotting him even through the crowd, people parted as he passed them. He beelines straight through the gym and though the doors into the main corridors. When you make it into the hallway, he is at the other end about to disappear around a corner.

“Stop running away from me!” you yell a little too loud, other lingering students stop and stare at you on their ways back from the bathroom. Unfortunately, you can’t bring yourself to care. Jungkook faulters for a moment before continuing. “Jeon Jungkook! I said stop.” You kick off your heels and run in the direction he disappeared. You nearly run full force into his chest as you turn the corner not expecting him to be there.

“Why?” his voice is small and harsh, not the usual bubbly tone he always has for you.

“Why what?” your more than a little annoyed that you had to chase him only for him to ask you a question.

“Why do you love me?” it’s not the question you thought he’d ask. Why now? How long? What’s your ring size? Those were the questions you had been prepared for. Not why do you love him. you thought that was obvious. “Seriously, why do you think your in love with me?” that stung ‘think’ he doesn’t believe you. Thinks its some silly girly crush you have.

“I love you because you’re you. You’re my best friend, you make me happy when no one else does, my heart hurts when I don’t see you for more than a day.” You reach for his hands, trying your best to convey your sincerity. He flinches in response. Pulls way back out of your reach.

“I don’t feel the same way.” Now it really does feel like someone has stabbed you. Run you straight through with a sword. Your stomach twists so hard you might throw up. This wasn’t an option. In all the ways you had imagine your prom night going, this hadn’t crossed your mind. You taste the tears at the corners of your lips before you realise your crying. “You can’t just spring something like this on someone Y/N! we were having such a great night, why did you have to do this.” He is not only rejecting you, he is blaming you for having feelings. It’s all too much.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. The lump in your throat makes it hard for you to speak at all. “I just thought…”

“You thought wrong.” His response is so fast, cutting off every chance you might’ve had to put a band aid over the situation. Maybe held it together until the night was over. Now there is no chance of that.

“I’m sorry.” You try again but he just rolls his eyes. Instead of making you sadder, this reaction makes you angry. How dare he. How dare he just dismiss you like you never meant anything to him. Like you weren’t even a friend.

“I should take you home.” He gestures towards a nearby exit. He doesn’t reach for your hand to guide you like he would’ve any other point in the night. You shake you head and walk back in the direction you came, picking up your shoes as you passed them. You walked straight out of the front gates and all the way home. That was the last conversation you’d have with Jungkook for a long time.

Graduation came and went. He tried to talk to you a few times in person, but you just walked away. Still seething at the way he reacted. He texted you constantly, left voicemails until you blocked his number. Your other friends never found out exactly what happened. They pieced bits together from what the two of you were able to talk about but never the full picture. When he started coming to your house to apologise you decided it was time to move on and headed to college early.

You were in town for a wedding. One of your high school friends had managed to meet the love of their life while away at college and asked you to come. It was a nice excuse to visit your parents. You didn’t come home as often as you would’ve liked. The town felt a little haunted after you finished school, so you tried hard to avoid it. Especially at times like this.

You were standing in your childhood bedroom, dressed to the nines once more. This time knowing that Jungkook was not going to be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. But he might be at the wedding. Getting over the boy you had never really been with was more of a challenge than you could’ve ever imagined. It took you almost the entire first year away to truly get some peace on the situation. You even started to understand his point of view. He was just an 18-year-old boy trying to enjoy one of the last nights he’d get with his friends. The you had gone and dumped a whole load of new information on him. It wasn’t fair of you, just as much as it wasn’t fair of him. Truthfully, a little part of you would always wonder what if. What if he had felt the same way, would people be coming home for your wedding instead? Or would it have fizzled out long distance?

You are pulled out of your thoughts by your phone signalling the arrival of your uber. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed you clutch and headed out, eerily reminiscent of that night.

Five years later.

The wedding is at a fancy hotel on the other side of town. You are escorted by the ushers into the main room. you quickly scan the area for him. You don’t even know if he is coming but you don’t want to be caught off guard. Coming up empty you thank the groom’s men and find a seat in the back of the bride’s section where you can survey the room.

It feels ridiculous being so on guard around the person that used to mean the world to you. Your eyes meet as soon as he walks through the door. He seems genuinely surprised to see you there. He tries a weak smile and lifts his hand to wave in your direction, but you put your head down, choosing to focus on the intricacies of the program instead. 4 hymns and a sermon. For a nonchurch wedding it sure seemed religious. You roll your eyes and settle in for a long one. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he skulks away. Sitting a few rows in front of you. You allow yourself the luxury of looking at him now that he can’t look back. His hair is a lot longer now. The suit he has chosen definitely fits a lot better than his prom tux. His shoulders are nicely outlined, strong and broad. It’s a nice visual.

The wedding seems to happen around you. Old friends come over to catch up. Vows are exchanged everyone is shuffled into a banquet hall. All the while you are watching Jungkook out of the corner of your eye. Seeing him go through the motions just as you are. Three tables away. Clearly your friend has been smart enough to think that through when creating two singles tables in her seating plan.

The night wore on. Speeches were made, drinks were spilt. More than one groom’s man ripped his trousers on the dance floor. You were getting some air in the gardens when he found you.

“You look beautiful as ever.” His voice is soft, but it still makes you jump, not expecting him to approach you at all.

“Thanks.” You move to brush passed him, eager to put some space between you. Very Much not wanting to exchange awkward pleasantries with the man that, after today, you were sure still owned your heart. He steps back into your path, and makes you meet his eyes. It hurts all over again. Every feeling you had that night rushes back, every bit of progress you’d made since then erased in a matter of seconds.

“Can we talk? Please?” he sounds almost as desperate to talk to you as you are to leave.

“Talk about what Jungkook? It’s been years, just let it lie.”

“Exactly it’s been years and I know how I feel about you now, know how I felt about you then… please just let me explain myself.” He pleads with you. You stand firm, half of you longing to hear him out, the other half wanting to run the way he had.

“Why should I let you talk now? You didn’t let me talk then.” You can hear the venom dripping in your tone but can’t bring yourself to adjust your voice.

“I was a kid back then Y/N, and I was scared I was going to lose you” he chuckles darkly “I guess I did that anyway.” He grabs for your hand, this time you get to pull away from him. None of this is fair, where was this person when you needed him five years ago? He sighs at your reaction. “Look I was terrified okay? I didn’t know how I felt about you. I just knew everything was changing and I didn’t want us to change. But I know who I am and what I want now, and that’s you.” He closes the distance you had put between you in one stride. His mouth heavy on yours trying to prove a point.

You can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Instead melting into his embrace. Letting yourself indulge in the boy that was all you ever wanted.

“Why now? Why not then?” you ask when he finally pulls away.

“Because you wouldn’t speak to me until now. I wanted to tell you the day after, but you wouldn’t talk to me. And you were right to do so. I was such an asshole to you about it. Let me make it up to you.” He peppers your face with kisses.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared too.” He holds you tight cradling you into his chest. You stand there for a while. Taking in everything about him that you’d missed. The smell of fresh cotton, the warmth he always radiated. All of it.

“I have a room upstairs if you want to go. Maybe we could watch a movie?” you pull away to look straight up at him. he must have realised what it sounded like then because his mouth formed an o and his eyes widened. “Wait no, I really did mean a movie.” He tries to backtrack.

“What if you didn’t mean a movie?” as soon as your meaning sinks in, he is sprinting away. This time with you in tow, struggling to keep up. Eventually he decides you are slowing him down. He lifts you bridal style into the nearest elevator. He refuses to put you down, even though you are forced into a standstill. As soon as the door dings, he is through them. Balancing you and opening the door isn’t even a challenge as he bursts through into the luxurious hotel room. He throws you unceremoniously on to the bed before discarding his jacket on the floor. You watch, propped up on your elbows, as he loosens his tie and kicks off his shoes before helping you with yours. He runs his hand up the back of your calf, rolling down the stockings you’d worn in an effort to avoid tights.

His hair falls into his eyes as he meets your gaze, and you can’t take the teasing anymore. Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him on top of you. Your lips finding his, unwilling to let go until your lungs hurt. He has one arm by your head, supporting some of his weight while the other trails down your waist. He drags his fingertips along your thigh as he moves your hemline. With your skirt out of the way his hand moves in between you bodies finding its way to your clothed pussy.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so long… can I?” he kisses down your neck as he asks, leaving you barely able to respond. You just about manage to squeak out your approval. He wastes no time, biting into the soft flesh of your thighs as he wraps his hands around your panties. They are disposed of quickly, likely ruined by the slick you can feel pooling between your legs. He licks along your slit, barely delving between your folds. The tip of his tongue flicking at your clit briefly before he goes back and starts the motion again. Each time he gets close to your clit he brushes it slightly, so you shiver with anticipation, but he waits until you are practically panting to go any further. His right hand joins his talented tongue. Two fingers slipping inside of you. The slight stretch burns so good. His mouth moves up, biting gingerly at the sensitive nub he had been teasing for so long. Your thighs clamp involuntarily around his head. He wraps his free arm around your leg, driving you apart to give him better access. His tongue comes back into play drawing little shapes on your clit as he sucks down. He curls his fingers in just the right way to have you coming undone underneath him. Biting your lips to keep yourself quiet. He swats at your thigh until your teeth let go, forcing your moans out into the open. When you stop writhing, he lets your leg go and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Sitting back on his feet he won’t stop looking at you weird. Its an expression you can’t ever remember him making before, and that worries you.

“What? Why are you looking at me? Were the noises too weird? I tried to keep them in…” he pulls you up to him by the wrists and kisses you before answering.

“I love you… please shut up. Your moans are the sexiest thing I think I have ever heard. Now I just really want to get you out of the rest of your clothes. He reaches around to unzip your dress, fumbling for a moment until you take pity and take it off yourself. His shirt is already unbuttoned by the time the fabric is over your head. You help him to push the sleeves off his arms, taking great pleasure in rubbing your hands across his toned arms. You marvel at the amount of muscle he has gained for a moment before he drags you back to him, falling onto his back so you straddle him.

You make quick work of the clothing on his lower half. Perhaps a little too keen to see what you were working with. He does not disappoint. His cock is above average in length, immediately evident as it slaps against his stomach when released from it’s confines. You shuffle back for a moment to admire the full image. His hair falls haphazardly around his head, lips swollen from the kisses. Perfectly chiselled abs leading into an arrow to what you can only describe as the motherlode. Everything about this moment was worth the wait. But you refused to wait any longer. You stroke your hand softly along his shaft, pumping a few times before moving to sit yourself on top. You sink down slowly at first, having to take extra precaution to not hurt yourself. His eyes pinch shut and his nose crinkles as a little whimper escapes his mouth. You slap his chest.

“If I’m not allowed to stay quiet, neither are you.” He nods enthusiastically and opens one eye just as you reach the base of his dick.

“Fuck.” His voice low and breathy. Sounds more like he just ran a marathon than had a girl sit on him. As you feel more comfortable, you start to wriggle your hips, not thrusting away, just enough friction to tease him like he did you. You don’t get away with it for quite as long though. His hands are on your hips and you are powerless to stop him as he makes you bounce, meeting each thrust with one of his own. Soon it’s not enough for him. Too worked up to relinquish any control. He flips you quickly, now on your knees. He barely gives you time to orientate yourself before driving into you from behind. Fast, sloppy thrusts used to reach his own end. He snakes one arm underneath you. Skilled fingers finding your clit, playing with you until you tighten around him. making it difficult for him to keep going.

Soon he spills over, cumming deep inside of you. Holding onto you with all he has. Instead of pulling out, he falls over with you in his arms. Cuddling into the back of you as he comes down. You wiggle experimentally on his softening cock, earning you a growl. You giggle at his oversensitivity and try to get free as painlessly as possible.

“Don’t go” he is whiny when he is tired, it’s so endearing. He makes a grabby hand at you as you clamber of the side of the bed

“I’m only going to the bathroom; I’ll be right back.” You kiss him on the cheek as you round the bed.

“Good because I never want to be without you, ever again.” he admits as you walk into the bathroom.

February request - open

Masterlist

#purplearmynet #bts fic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jjk smut #jungkook smut #jeongkook smut #jeongguk smut #feb 21 #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #kpop smut #kpop fic #jeon jungkook x y/n #100

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