#fears about me you’d say nothing about until you got the chance to punish me for | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Know Your Place

Pairing: Naoya x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Misogyny, Abuse, Rape/Non-Con, Humiliation, Degradation, Feet Stepping

Summary: You should have known better than to believe that Toji could protect you from the Zenin forever. Once a Zenin woman, always a Zenin woman and Naoya intends to make sure you fully understand that.

Growing up as a female in the Zenin clan means you’re always expected to serve, to look beautiful. Never speak unless requested to. Never look any of the men in the eyes. Obey. Be submissive and demure.

There are thousands of rules and dozens of leering eyes ready to punish you for a single minor infraction. So as much as you hate the life you’ve been born into, you know better than to act out and bring attention to yourself, knowing full well especially now as an adult woman that the price of transgressions are too high to pay.

You’d be incredibly fortunate for the usual heavy backhands Naobito and Ogi Zenin would grace your face with when you were still a minor, for the cruel condescending words Naoya would sneer at you. Those were child’s play compared to what’s in store for you now and you shudder when you remember the images of fellow female servants who had attempted to escape only to be easily captured, clothes stripped and body laid bare for the entire clan to see. You remember the fear that would make you tremble as the men howled in laughter and jeers as they took turns smacking their victim’s ass, pawing and groping her body. You remember sobbing when you were forced to watch as fists, cocks, objects that you thought were far too large were shoved between flailing legs.

But nothing keeps you in line more than the cold dread you’d feel heavy in your chest when you’d be forced to clean out the room of one of your ex-maids, preparing the room for the next poor soul born into a never ending life of servitude. As much as you hate this life, it’s still better than being tied up and forced to be nothing more than a Zenin sex doll, used by every man in the clan until there’s nothing left but an empty husk of skin.

So you keep your head down, ignoring the cruel words and predatory gazes that follow you. You enjoy the few moments you have in the servant quarters alone with your fellow maids, giggling and whispering to each other, pretending that you’re just normal women. Those friendships you form warm your heart and you take solace in the sympathetic glances and warm brief squeezes of hands when a Zenin man is particularly harsh in their treatment of you.

Maybe that’s why you can’t keep your body still when the woman who shares the same room as you accidentally spills hot tea all over Zenin Toji. And despite how terrified you are of Toji’s hulking figure and blood-stained reputation, you throw your body in between him and your friend, creating a feeble physical shield for her from his wrath.

A part of you is together enough to vaguely acknowledge how strange it is that Toji hasn’t roared a single word yet, hasn’t laid a hand on you. But you’re not foolish enough to think this is over and you throw yourself to the floor in a degrading groveling bow, begging him to forgive your friend, to have mercy on the both of you.

You know exactly who Zenin Toji is and you prepare yourself for the feeling of his infamous sword slicing through your neck. What you aren’t prepared for is the way he lets out a boisterous laugh, green eyes glimmering in amusement when he sees the bewildered look on your face as you tentatively peek up at him.

“You’ve got guts. Tell you what. I’ll forgive you and your clumsy friend if you become my personal maid. Deal?”

It’s a rhetorical question and you stiffly nod your head, tears forming in your eyes as you imagine the rest of your life chained to Toji’s bed, stuck in the lair of a beast.

Except your life isn’t anything like you had imagined and you’re stunned when Toji barks at you to go retire to your own room and get some rest so you’re ready to keep up with tomorrow.

Life is...surprisingly normal. Well as normal as it can be in the household of one of the top Jujutsu sorcerer clans in the world. You scowl at Toji as he teasingly throws a pile of sweat stained clothes and towels on top of your head as he walks out of the bath.

“You’re getting a little stronger, little lady. I almost even felt the punch you threw at me in training today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the slight quirk of your lips and swell of pride at his backhanded compliment.

Toji isn’t anything like the rest of his clan and it goes deeper than just his lack of cursed energy or his supernatural strength. He’s kind. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but you genuinely believe he has a good heart. Not once has he ever spoken maliciously to you. Not once has he ever laid a hand even borderline inappropriate or suggestive on you. And sure, you don’t necessarily enjoy doing his dirty laundry, cleaning his room, and making his bed every day and night, but he makes it easy to forget that you’re just a lowly maid.

He talks to you as if you’re his equal, carefully listening to you, acknowledging your points (even if he mocks you when you do say something silly or that he disagrees with). He invites you to eat meals with him. He trains you deeming you too wimpy to last long without at least some basic defense skills. Your time with Toji is one of the few moments of happiness you know and you greedily indulge.

But unknown to you, your new proximity to the black wolf of the Zenin clan has more than one eye looking at you in interest and above all, Zenin Naoya can’t stop fixating on you.

Naoya has always had a strange mix of respect, disdain, and jealousy towards the older man and he can’t help himself from wanting what Toji has, especially when the both of you look so irritatingly happy chattering away with each other as if you have no cares in the world. How dare a lowly Zenin servant look so carefree. How dare curse-less Toji make a mockery of the rest of the clan by living a shame-free life despite how hard they try to humiliate him for it.

Has Naoya ever been happy? Ever been relaxed?

He can’t remember ever laughing as hard as Toji is now in response to something you’ve said or done. He can’t remember smiling so freely like you are as you playfully slap Toji and try to get him to stop teasing you. A green eyed monster slithers inside of him and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s making his way towards the both of you.

“Aren’t you two as unseemly as usual. I know you don’t care for our clan’s reputation or rules, but really? Parading your slut around so shamelessly? That’s a new low even for you.”

It’s adorable how you scurry away, cowering behind Toji’s broad figure, fear written all over your face. And although Naoya had done this to get under Toji’s skin, he can’t help but wish the older man would storm off and leave you behind in his clutches. He wonders if you’d be this scared and docile underneath him, wonders how tight you’d be while you tremble in fear while he sinks inside of you…

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted as Toji snorts, slinging a muscular arm over your shoulder and dragging you off with him, subtly tucking you safely into his side and away from Naoya’s hungry gaze.

Usually being ignored and dismissed would rile him up more, but as he watches the two of you amble away and sees your innocent and confused face, unsure what had just happened and what’s causing Toji’s strangely touchy behavior, his appetite is whetted and you’re what he’s craving.

What he hadn’t accounted for is how protective Toji is of you. So strange for a man who doesn’t seem to care about anyone except himself. But Naoya supposes that’s just a testament for how good you must be in bed. He can’t think of any other reason why Toji would waste his time and efforts on an insignificant woman like you.

You’re never left alone long enough for him to corner. Just when he sees you by yourself and swoops in to shove you in a spare room, Toji suddenly looms beside you, green eyes sternly pinning Naoya down with a warning. And as much as Naoya would love to rise to the challenge, he knows that he doesn’t stand a chance against Toji, so he slinks away in defeat, again and again.

It only makes him want you more and he grits his teeth as he slams into one of the whores in his bed who vaguely reminded him of you if he squints in just the right way.

He supposes he should be more remorseful as the news of Toji’s death spreads like wildfire through the Zenin household. But all he can see is a light at the end of the tunnel. It takes every last bit of restraint in him not to immediately hunt you down and devour you, but he bides his time. After all the teasing and taunting you’ve put him through just one taste isn’t going to satisfy him anymore.

No, he won’t just ruin you and throw you away after a single night. He plans on dragging this out, using you, tasting you until it fully sinks in that this is all you’re good for, that he owns every part of you inside and out.

His cock twitches at your swollen face covered in salty tear streaks. You look so pathetic, so scared when he takes his time strolling into your room, kicking your roommate out and locking the door behind him. It’s just the two of you and he feels the rush of power thrumming through his veins at how you tremble and cower before him. If only you were naked and not in those dreary mourning clothes…

But he has ample time for that and he wants to enjoy corrupting you, take his time watching your downfall.

“You’re my maid starting now.”

You mutely nod, but make no move and Naoya scoffs.

“I know Toji was soft with you, but let me set expectations straight. I’m nothing like him. Now get moving.”

“But this is my room-”

You yelp in fright as Naoya’s hand grips the front of your shirt and hauls your body until you’re forced to press against his body, feeling his breath against your face as he sneers at you.

“Sluts don’t get the luxury of their own room or bed. Toji spoiled you. Now move your stuff to my quarters. The only place you’ll be sleeping from now on is my floor or my bed. Understood?”

It’s a rhetorical question and all you can do is crumple to the ground when he lets go, staring unseeingly at Naoya’s retreating back as he exits your room, the weight of your new reality crashing down on you.

Sleeping on the floor is humiliating and uncomfortable. Naoya makes it a point to “accidentally” step on you when he gets on and off the bed, rudely nudging you awake with his feet, resting his soles on your face until you’re flailing around to breathe. But it isn’t as bad as wondering when the worst is to come.

At least you’re clothed. At least your innocence is still intact. So as much as you feel like nothing more than a dog, you take it. After all, your new life isn’t so different from your life before Toji aside from your new sleeping arrangements and the headache of being in close proximity to Zenin Naoya.

It’s entertaining enough in the beginning, watching you curl up on the floor like an obedient puppy, admiring how you never talk or lash out when he literally walks all over you. He even buys you a pretty new collar with his name engraved on it linked to a leash he holds in his hand or leaves tied to his bed.

But unlike a real pet you never warm up to him, always looking at him warily, body tense and nervous in his presence. Not once do you look at him with even the slightest hint of affection or fondness you used to stare at Toji with. He supposes that can’t be helped and he doesn’t care for anything disgusting like your love. But you don’t even seem remotely attracted to him as a man and that’s something his ego won’t allow for.

He knows women can’t stand his attitude. But he also knows that at their base, all women are sluts easily swayed by his good looks. He can’t even count the number of women who’ve insulted him to his face only to end up in his bed, moaning and screaming his name and their love for his cock.

You were supposed to be no different. But your continued disinterest in him infuriates him to the point where petty humiliation isn’t enough to sate his hurt pride.

“Strip and get in bed.”

You’re frozen stiff and he sneers at you while you’re on the verge of terrified tears.

“What? I’m not good enough for you? Don’t act like you aren’t used to this. I’m sure your old master had you warming his bed all the time-”

“Toji would never!”

Even he’s stunned by the weight of his backhand hit as it makes contact with your face, by the venom in his voice as he spits out his next words.

“Don’t you ever say that name in my presence again.”

He takes a few seconds to calm his breath, the crimson of the blood trickling from your nose grounding him as he finds his center once more. But then a thought crosses his mind as that red river finds its way to your lips.

“As punishment, let’s make sure you know what your mouth’s purpose is from now on. Words are wasted on a dumb whore like you anyway. Kneel and open wide.”

It’s oddly arousing watching your tears and blood stream down your face as you choke on his cock. Your efforts are half-hearted at best, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the instinctual way your throat flutters around him as he roughly thrusts his hips into your tight mouth suffices. He can see why Toji kept you around and he groans as his hand slips behind your head and pushes you until your face is squished against his abdomen.

Your mouth feels amazing and your muffled screams for air only add to the vibrations around his shaft. It’s enough to have him spilling down your throat and he keeps you tightly pressed against him, forcing you to drink every last drop he gifts you with. And only when your throat finally stops its forced swallowing does he release you, leering down at your pitiful form heaving for breath.

The bitter taste of his seed is all you can taste, all you can focus on as you greedily inhale much needed oxygen. You pray that he’s done, but you whimper when a strong hand easily pulls you up and begins to pull off your clothing. Instinctively you try to push the invasive appendages away from you, but you freeze at Naoya’s growled threat.

“Don’t make me hurt you any more than I have to.”

You know it’s not an empty threat. You’ve seen the quite literally broken bodies of women who had resisted too much against the Zenin men, against Naoya specifically. So you limply drop your arms to your side and stay still as he humiliatingly gropes and examines you like merchandise.

All you can do is clench your eyes shut as Naoya’s hands grab your breasts, kneading and weighing them in his hands, cruelly prodding and pinching your nipples to see your reactions. All you can do is bite back a muffled yelp when he forces you onto your knees and forearms on the bed, squeezing and smacking your ass, spreading apart your cheeks to closely look at your fluttering holes. All you can do is cry into the sheets as he fingers you open, breaching both untouched openings, his thick digits stretching your tight walls apart and taking their time to thoroughly defile you, using your own slick to loosen your ass.

You try to disassociate, try to imagine that this is just a medical examination. But your fantasies are shattered when something hard and thick slaps against your inner thigh as Naoya rearranges himself behind you, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against your dripping entrance, coating his shaft with your juices.

“Naoya! Sir, please. I’ve never...You can’t-”

Your pleas are cut short as his hand painfully strikes your ass.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re ruining the mood with your sniveling voice. Remember what I taught you? Sluts don’t get to speak freely. They only get to moan and thank their masters.”

You don’t even know if you can speak even if you wanted to, not when his cock is forced into you in one go, the thick and lengthy shaft ruthlessly tearing you apart. It fills you, stuffing you full, and you don’t think there’s even room left in your body for words. The only thing you can release is a strangled scream, eyes and mouth blown wide open, fingers clawing at the sheets as you try to remotely ground yourself as the foreign sensation overwhelms you.

But Naoya has never been a patient man and there’s a certain sense of entertainment from watching you struggle and writhe underneath him. He begins a relentless pace before you can adjust to the feeling of him inside of you, hips slamming in and out of you, heavy balls bouncing against you.

You’re so tight, so hot, so wet and he can feel a rush of power from the confusion he begins to see setting on your face as forced pleasure begins to mix in with your fear and pain. Moans and high-pitched keens are finding their way in between distressed cries and he smirks at the way your eyes begin to roll back in your head, the way your hips begin to meet him halfway, greedily pushing back against him when he teasingly slows down his pace.

He laughs at the humiliation and embarrassment running rampant on your face when you whine as he abruptly stops

“Wow you really are a slut. You fucking love my cock, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes as you adamantly shake your head in denial, bored by your playing hard to get act. But as he admires the way your pussy lips obscenely envelop his cock, your pretty puckered hole beckons to him.

“You’re fucking filthy, clamping down on me like a bitch in heat from just a thumb in your ass. You like that? Like having all your holes filled? Maybe when I break you in, I’ll share you with the rest of the clan. Bet you’d love that. Love having cocks in every hole, using every inch of you.”

Your orgasm takes the both of you by surprise in its speed and intensity and Naoya howls in laughter as he resumes fucking you, chasing his own high with his thumb still lodged in your ass, groaning in pleasure at how he can feel the tremors of your orgasm, the way your body convulses in the aftershocks of pleasure and onset of overstimulation.

You’re breathtaking like this, fucked silly, delirious, just a warm body and toy for him to do with as he pleases and it doesn’t take long for him to join you over the edge and add to the sticky mess already inside of you.

With a lewd pop he retracts his thumb from your now lewdly fluttering hole, shoving it into your mouth for you to clean and he smiles at how mindlessly obedient you are as you suck and lick the digit clean like it's your favorite lollipop.

You grimace when he finally pulls out, already feeling his cum beginning to leak out of you and you try and find the strength in your trembling and used body to push yourself off the bed. It’s time to retreat with your tail between your legs and you want nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening in the shower, harshly scrubbing every evidence of your utter defeat and conquest under boiling hot water.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You open your mouth to speak, only to quickly clamp it back shut, remembering how your words only seemed to dig you deeper and deeper into trouble.

“You’re going to wash me and yourself and once we’re clean, you’re going to remain naked and in my bed until I’m ready to use you again. Think of it as a promotion. No more worrying your stupid little head about cleaning and laundry anymore. You’re being upgraded to my personal sex slave and bed warmer. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You wonder if this is what it feels like to walk the plank, to approach your own death sentence as you robotically trail after Naoya’s figure towards his lavish bathroom. And as you lay in his bed that night, pristine and bare like a glorified sex doll, his broad arm possessively slung around your waist and forcing your bodies to mold together, you bid farewell to your past life, dreading what the future has in store for you.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #naoya x reader #naoya smut #yandere naoya #tw: noncon #tw: abuse

1K notes · View notes

purple-babygirl · 3 years

Note

Oh oh what about Bucky's little staying over at Steve's for the weekend cause Bucky is busy. She's being a brat but whenever Steve calls Bucky to show him she's a Angel. So Bucky sneaks by unexpected & sees her being a brat

Word Count: 2,901 (i tried to cut it short, i tried, but i'm hopeless when it comes to soft stuff)

Warnings: ddlg dynamics, and angst i think? the rest is fluff

A/N: Nonnie, thank you so much for sending this and sharing your idea with me. i hope i didn't take too long and i hope i didn't disappoint?:" please enjoy xx.

Alternative ending

bratty angel

“Give her the phone, would you? I missed her,” Bucky requested, desperate to hear the little one's voice.

“Quick question while I still have you though,” Steve scratched the back of his head, not sure if he should tell Bucky.

“Yeah?”

“What do you usually do with her if she's being a little.. troublesome?” Steve didn't want to get her punished; he just wanted a way to deal with her behavior.

Steve obviously knew he could punish her the small punishments, like no screen time for a day or a timeout, but he didn't want to. She already seemed to dislike him enough, he wasn't about to make it worse. He didn't want to punish her but he also couldn't take all the brattiness and backtalk.

He was a kind uncle and he actually enjoyed being around her. But her behavior has been driving him crazy this time and it needed to stop. He knew she didn't want Bucky to leave this time and was most likely punishing Steve for telling him he could take care of her while he was gone. She probably thought Bucky would've stayed if there was no one to tend to her during his absence, and she had Steve to blame for it.

“Being what? What did she do?” Bucky's angry voice asked from the other side of the phone, and Steve could picture him narrowing his eyes.

“It's nothing major, Buck-”

“What did she do, Steve?”

“Well, uh, for starters she says no to almost everything even if she's eventually gonna do it anyway. She knocks stuff over when I don't do what she wants and pretends it was an accident,” Steve stopped and sighed, “she's giving me a hard time and it all goes away when you call!” Steve almost whined.

He sighed again when Bucky went silent, knowing she'd really get it now but she didn't exactly leave him much of a choice.

“I'm gonna handle it. I'm sorry, Steve,” Bucky said, sounding pissed.

“Hey, it's all good. Hold on, I'll give her the phone.”

“Yeah, please do.” Bucky wasn't as excited to talk to her anymore.

He could hear Steve softly calling out for her to come talk to Daddy and her feet hitting the wooden floor as she came to the phone. What he didn't hear though was a thank you to Steve.

“Dada!” Her happy voice spoke and Bucky couldn't help but smile a little.

“Hey, doll! How've you been?”

“Been good, dada. Missed you,” she sighed, pouting.

“I missed you too, baby. Are you behaving for Uncle Steve?”

“Yes, daddy,” she lied all too quickly and Bucky clenched his jaw.

“Good girl.”

“Sweetheart, please get in your skirt,” Steve sighed again, holding the item of clothing low for her to step into.

“No.” Her naked leg kicked the mini skirt from Steve's hands before she crossed her legs and leaned on her bed.

“Don't make this hard now!” Steve rubbed his face in frustration.

“I'll do what I want. You're not my daddy,” she said stubbornly before snatching the skirt off the floor and slipping it up her legs to her waist. If she looked messy, she didn't care.

When she turned around to leave the unorganized room, Bucky was standing there with the biggest scowl on his face. Her heart stopped and her world froze. How come they didn't know he was arriving today? How come they didn't hear him come in?

“Dada,” she whispered in mixed fear and shame, making Steve look up, a look of utter relief washing over him when he saw his best friend.

Everything was about to get better now that Bucky was here, including her temper.

“Is that what I taught you, little one?” Bucky's tone dripped of disappointment.

“Dada.” Tears quickly came to her eyes as she saw the letdown look in Bucky's.

“And here I was thinking you were my good girl, returning home early to see you.” Bucky shook his head at her.

“Dada, I am your good girl. I am,” she begged, walking closer to him, but Bucky didn't reciprocate.

“Dada, I missed you.” She went to hug Bucky but he stepped away. She tried to hold his hand and he slipped his fingers out of her grab.

“You don't get to welcome daddy home after you've disrespected Uncle Steve like that, little girl,” Bucky told her, his frown not disappearing, only deepening.

“Dada, I'm sorry.” Her lower lip trembled.

She’s missed Bucky so much. She was touch-starved because she hadn't given Steve a chance to come anywhere near her all weekend. She refused to let him hug her, kiss her, or carry her. She was distant and bratty and rude. She needed Bucky's warm touch but he was far too mad at her.

“I'm not the one you should be apologizing to.” Bucky crossed his arms, looking at Steve behind her.

“Uncle Steve, I'm s-sorry,” she mumbled quickly, without even looking at the blond man, moving to hug Bucky again but he still wouldn't let her.

“Dada,” she called, tears leaving her eyes.

“You have to mean it, little one.”

“Daddy, I mean it,” she whined. It frustrated her little heart that Bucky kept calling her little one. He only did that when he was mad at her; too angry to use a pet name.

“Enough lying already!” Bucky raised his voice and she flinched.

“I'm not going to talk to you or touch you until you've made it up to Uncle Steve. Until then I'm gonna pretend I haven't come home and saw what I just saw.” Bucky left her room, walking over to his and slamming the door behind him.

He didn't normally choose to be hard on her; she was his baby doll, but what she did with Steve was just unacceptable. Bucky couldn't let her get away with disrespecting anyone, especially Steve, not after witnessing it all himself.

He'd thought it over on his way home. If he spanked her or took her favourite things away, she'd dislike Steve even more, if not hate him. Bucky couldn't give her more things to blame Steve for or more reasons to refuse him.

“Sweetheart,” Steve called, feeling bad after Bucky left and she stood by the door frame and started crying.

He didn't really want Bucky to punish her; he just wanted to know how to deal with her bratty behavior. He just wanted a way to communicate better. Steve never intended on making her cry. Bucky surprised him with that punishment.

“'S all because of you. I hate you!” She cried harder, throwing herself on her bed to hide her face in the mattress as she sobbed.

Her words broke Steve's heart to tiny pieces and he felt even worse now that Bucky was here. His mouth opened but no words came to him so he closed it again. He gathered her clothes from the floor and hung them back in her closet before leaving her to cry it out, giving her some time.

“I'm so sorry, Steve.” Bucky shook his head, embarrassed by her behavior towards his best friend.

“Hey, it's alright. I know she's a good girl; she just missed you.”

“You know I missed her too but she can't just get away with such stuff,” Bucky sighed, taking another sip from his beer.

“I know.”

“Dada.” She entered the room after a good crying session, rubbing her puffy eyes.

True to his previous words, Bucky didn't answer her, swallowing the lump in his throat with his beer. He couldn't give in.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Steve responded instead, not wanting to leave her hanging, which made her pout in annoyance.

Like him and Bucky had agreed, if she wanted anything she'd have to go to Uncle Steve for it and relearn to use her manners.

“Dada,” she called again and got the same reaction. Bucky pretended he wasn't there.

Tears gathered in her eyes again and she hid her face in her hands and began crying. The sound shook Bucky's heart and he almost broke and forgave her.

“Hey, hey, no, it's alright,” Steve cooed, immediately coming to her side.

He hated this. Once he got her to stop crying he was going to talk to Bucky about calling it off. He didn't care if she was bratty or bad-mannered, he just wanted her happy again.

Steve led her back to her room and sat down on the bed beside her.

“Daddy's never gonna speak to me again!” She sobbed and Steve's heart ached for her.

“Sweetheart, please don't cry.” He gently patted her back.

“Can't you just tell him I said sorry and I mean it?” A pair of teary eyes implored Steve's blue ones.

“I will, but no more tears, okay?” Steve quickly agreed, wanting her to calm down.

“You will?” She wiped at her cheeks and Steve nodded with half a smile, his thumb catching her new tears.

“You'd lie to daddy for me?” Her red eyes widened.

“I'd do lots of stuff for you.” Steve chuckled.

“Like what?” She mumbled, sniffing and wiping her nose before Steve grabbed her a tissue off the bedside table.

“Like let you pour your milk on me and pretend it was an accident.” Steve smiled fondly, dabbing the tissue on her wet cheeks and under her nose.

In that moment as she looked up at the man with tear-filled eyes, her little mind seemed to recall all the ways she'd tortured him all week. She'd disobeyed nearly everything he'd told her and he still didn't hurt her or even raise his voice at her. She'd 'accidently' dumped all the salt in the salt shaker on his dinner. She'd dropped his phone on the kitchen counter multiple times after talking to Bucky, adding to the cracks on its screen. She'd wet him and got soap in his eyes during shower time. She'd constantly knocked stuff out of his hands whenever he held them out for her. She's been a real demon. If it was Bucky he would've punished her in every way in the book. But Steve didn't. He didn't make her pay for any of it and he was ready to lie to Bucky to save her bratty, ungrateful ass from having to endure his silent treatment.

“And then you leave?” She wondered.

She saw Steve's face fall at her question. She really did hate him, didn't she?

“And then I leave.” He still nodded with a kind smile.

“But could you not though?” She whispered, playing with the ends of her mini skirt.

“What?” Steve looked at her in surprise; he must've heard her wrong.

“Don't leave,” she told him, clearer this time, awkwardly extending her hand to touch his.

“Sweetheart-”

“I'm sorry, Uncle Steve,” she started tearing up again in regret, “I didn't mean to be so bad.” She shook her head and cried.

“Aw, sweetheart, it's okay.” Steve hugged her to his side, smoothing a hand on her head.

That was all he needed to hear.

“You know I like you, right?” She asked, sniffing in his shirt and Steve chuckled.

“Yeah?” He asked cheekily and she nodded, silently crying.

“Yeah, you make the best cookies, but don't tell daddy,” she said and Steve chuckled, “I'm sorry.” She cried more.

“I like you too, darling. Don't cry now, we're good.” He assured her, holding her closer to him and gently patting her back.

“So you’ll stay?”

“If that's what you want.” Steve's thumb wiped her tears away as she nodded again.

She wanted to make things up to Uncle Steve like Daddy wanted and Uncle Steve deserved. She wanted to show him she truly was a good girl.

“On one condition though,” Steve said playfully, slipping her hair behind her ear.

She looked up at him, waiting for his next words.

“You let me take care of you like I was supposed to.” Steve's face was serious. It was all he wanted all weekend.

“Okay.” She nodded, smiling tearfully.

How kind was Uncle Steve and how blind was she to not see it!

Steve kissed her forehead and smiled down at her, wiping the rest of her tears away. He adjusted her skirt before they walked back out hand in hand and he sat her down on the couch beside Bucky, who on his turn pretended she wasn't there.

Was Bucky curious about what happened in there? Yeah, he was. But he wasn't about to ask her. He was just glad Steve has got her to stop crying because nothing hurt more than seeing her pretty face all sad and teary.

Steve prepared her snack and came back. He lifted her on his lap and handed her the plate before grabbing the remote to turn on her favourite afternoon show.

“Thank you, Uncle Steve,” she whispered shyly, kissing the man's cheek.

Steve smiled and kissed her temple, rubbing her back as he encouraged her to eat, even feeding her a couple of times and she let him, thanking him every time.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at the scene unfolding beside him but still held back from interfering or interacting with her. He was still mad and she needed to prove herself good again. He bit back a smile, pressing the beer bottle to his lips instead.

As the day came to an end and Steve put her to bed, she was keeping her 'please' and 'thank you's up, using her manners just right and Bucky would secretly, proudly grin every time she did.

“Would you please tell daddy I said goodnight?” She asked Steve, trying not to cry again before bed. She'd wished he'd forgive her by bedtime but he clearly didn't.

“I will, sweetheart. And I'm sure he wishes you a good night too,” Steve pecked her forehead and she smiled.

“Goodnight, Uncle Steve.” She pecked his cheek before resting back, pulling the covers to her chin.

If Bucky was listening, he made no effort to let any of them know.

The next morning Bucky was the same, still giving her a taste of her own medicine. She wanted to cry again but didn't, focusing on fixing things with Uncle Steve, whom she'd been awful to.

“Uncle Steve, please come with me?” She held onto Steve's wrist while he stood with Bucky in the kitchen.

Steve mumbled a 'sure', tilting his head in confusion as he followed the shorter girl.

She sat him on her bed and stood on her tiptoes till she reached her pink piggy bank on the upper shelf on her wall.

She walked to Steve and put the small safe in his lap, “I thought all morning long,”

“What's this, sweetheart?” Steve eyed the object before looking at her.

She smiled sheepishly before shaking the safe left and right in his lap, “to fix Uncle Steve's phone.”

Steve's heart soared in his chest and he remained speechless. She waited for him to take the money but he didn't.

“'S a lot of money. Dada gave me some to keep with piggy every day,” she assured Steve, taking his big hands and wrapping them around the pink safe, wanting him to accept it.

“Sweetheart,” Steve mumbled, setting the piggy bank on the bed before holding her to his chest.

She let herself be squished in his embrace as she stood between his legs, not really understanding what was happening, but at least he wasn't mad at her.

“You don't have to do that.” Steve shook his head before kissing her head.

“But I wanna make it up to you, Uncle Steve. I can't take away the salt in your food or the soap in your eyes or the milk on your pants-” She stopped and pulled back and her smaller hand cupped Steve's cheek, “do you wamme to wash your pants?”

Oh, how precious! She spent her morning thinking about ways to fix what she'd done to him. And she wanted to give him all of her savings to fix his phone. She was even ready to try and clean his pants. She was such a kind little one.

He’d done it. She finally likes him. Steve was beside himself at the progress. This kind of connection with her was all he ever wanted and it made him forget about whatever evil things she'd done during that weekend.

And on the other side of the wall stood a very pleased Bucky.

When they walked back out to the living room, Steve was beaming as he helped her up on his lap. Her body was facing Bucky’s as she leaned onto Steve’s chest. She looked at Bucky and when he looked back she cast her eyes down in shame.

“Come here, doll.” Bucky beckoned, opening his arms for her.

She grinned happily, jumping into them as he lifted her to straddle him. She wrapped her arms around Bucky's neck, burying her face in his shoulders and smelling his scent. Steve smiled, satisfied with their reunion.

Bucky wrapped her up tightly in his arms, pressing a longing kiss to the side of her head, “I missed you too, doll. I missed you so bad.”

“I’m sorry, dada,” she sniffled, clutching Bucky’s shirt.

“I know, doll.” Bucky pressed his lips to her forehead and let the kiss linger there.

In each others' arms, now both, her and Bucky, were really home.

1K notes · View notes

jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 3 years

Text

Our little love - mafia/soft Yandere au OT7 Drabble

So I might’ve started this with a little angst and really soft hints of yandere behaviour however I think I might do a part two for this with a little bit more yandere and jealousy vibes (I got ideas okay, just needed a starting point)

“Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your head little love?” Even with the gun pressed firmly against your head, the cold of the barrel threatening to do as he said, you know Yoongi won’t do it, even if you deserved it.

All seven of them stand around you, no matter which way you face you’re met with the disappointment and the consequence of your betrayal in their eyes, but you refuse to look down in shame, you deserved to feel the guilt that pumped in your veins.

“He asked you a question Y/n,” Jin doesn’t have the smile he reserves for you on his face, all their demenor’s are cold, and you are the reason why.

“You love me,” you whisper, looking Yoongi dead in the face with no fear.

“I thought you loved us too,” Namjoon steps forward, breaking the circle around you, coming close to stand next to Yoongi. He has his hands in the pockets of his black blazer, silver hair pushed back.

“Was it all a lie?” if a voice could break you it would always be Jungkook’s, he was the one it took the longest to become close to, and when you had you could see the softness in his eyes despite his career. Of course he would sound the most hurt, he trusted you the most.

Yoongi, with his unfaltering gun, was the other member of their team that took you almost as long as Jungkook to get close to. While Jungkook was just shy, Yoongi didn’t trust anyone, he pushed people away, hurt them to keep them far, you learnt that the hard way. While his eyes looked like they held no emotion in this moment, you knew better, he had shown you his soul, you could see behind the barrier of his expression.

You took his wrist into your hand and pressed the gun harder against you.

“You should shoot me,” it would be better to be dead than live without them, they would never forgive you for what you’d done. The betrayal cut too deep, these wounds wouldn’t heal.

Yoongi scoffs, but you don’t let his wrist go.

“I told you all she shouldn’t be trusted,” he says to the others. “Why would a girl like her fall for men like us?”

You can feel the pain in his words, because above all else, no matter what he says, Yoongi just wants to be loved. They all do, that’s why it was almost too easy.

“Well now we know, don’t we babe?”

“That wasn’t my intention,” you swallow the sob that threatens to rise in your throat, you hate seeing him like this, you hate that you’re the reason why they’re hurt. Every time they came home with a bullet, or a cut or wound, it would kill you inside and you realised then you were compromised.

“No your intention was to infiltrate our defenses and rat us out,” Jimin’s the one to chime in, standing next to Tae who looks at you like you’re dead to him.

“Detective L/n, did you really think we’d never find out?”

You look to your side to make sure Jimin could see the honesty in your eyes.

“It wasn’t my intention to fall for you,” you sound like you’re choking with the way you’re holding back tears, but you don’t want to cry in front of them, it would feel like giving up.

You were assigned to go undercover to infiltrate the uprising gang called BTS, they climbed the heirarchy of organised crime too quickly, too dangerously, something had to be done. You went in with every intention set to take them down until you got to know them, love them, and you knew then you couldn’t do your job. The internal battle to do what was right but felt wrong and what was wrong but felt so right was causing all your morals to be questioned.

Tae scoffs at you now, not believing a word from your mouth.

“I don’t think we should kill her Hyung,” he says to Yoongi, “she needs to feel her betrayal, it would be too easy to escape us with death.”

Namjoon hums in agreement. The cold of the gun leaves your skin and you almost feel unsteady without it. Yoongi doesn’t look at you anymore now that it’s not there, instead he takes your wrist as you previously had, and they walk you to the car. You don’t fight, or talk, or argue, or ask what they wanted to do to you.

The boys had trusted you infinitely, while others had agendas and seeked their downfall they knew you were the only one that wouldn’t betray them, how wrong they were. For your safety they kept an eye on you, when you went out one of them would follow to ensure their little love didnt get into trouble or worse, get hurt. Imagine their surprise when you walked into the police station.

You didn’t tell them you went in to hand in your notice, unable to continue with this lie, it didn’t matter, the damage was done, anything you said would be meaningless.

Your sat inbetween Jungkook and Hoseok, who still hadn’t uttered a word to you, but you could see him restraining his hurt and anger. Jin was in the drivers seat with Yoongi beside him. The others must’ve taken the other car, you don’t really acknowledge it you’re too deep in your own thoughts.

You don’t come up for air until you feel a hand soft on yours in your lap, Jungkook doesn’t look at you, just at how he’s stroking the back of your hand with his thumb comfortingly. You don’t mean for your heart to swell in your chest, pushing the tears up and out.

Jin and Yoongi don’t miss the way your bottom lip trembles in the rear view mirror, the small sniffles or the tears glistening down your face that you wipe away quickly with your other hand. Hobi puts his arm around you, still looking out the window as if you’re not there, but his actions show what they all know in their hearts; they still loved you.

“Why are you crying baby girl you’re not the one with the knife in your back,” Hobi mumbles. They think you’re scared of what they’re going to do with you now they know, but that couldn’t be further from your mind. They want to reassure you, but the words are stuck in their throats.

“You need to be punished darling, otherwise you won’t learn,” Jin can see you nodding to his words in the mirror in acceptance.

“I know.”

——————————————————————————

You expected them to put you in the cellar where they tortured their enemies, you don’t even realise you’re in the living room until you’re placed on the couch. You don’t look up until Namjoon is standing in front of you.

He traces his finger from the edge of your jaw to your chin, your eyes big on him from his soft touch. The calm should scare you, but the only anxiety you have is over whether you should hope for another chance or whether they’ll throw you onto the street when they’re done.

When a tear hits Namjoon’s hands he frowns, they didn’t expect this from you when they confronted you with what they uncovered. They expected you to reveal another face, the true colours beneath the girl they all fell hard for, kick and scream and throw insults their way over the life they had, how awful they were, how they didn’t deserve to be loved. But you kept quiet, eerily quiet, and they didn’t know what to think anymore.

Letting you leave was out of the question, whether you wanted to stay or not. Not because they were concerned that you had seen too much, they didn’t care, they couldn’t imagine their lives without you anymore. The trust might’ve faded, but their love for you was real. Yoongi might’ve created a farce with the gun to your head but it was done to see your reaction, the truth behind the last 6 months of your relationship.

They expected you to beg for your life like every other person at their mercy, but you always defied their expectations.

“You’re so quiet my love,” Namjoon says to you. “Nothing you want to say to defend yourself?”

You shake your head, no there was nothing you want to say or explain.

“Then you take your punishment without complaint?”

You nod without hesitation.

Namjoon releases a deep breath, building the nerve to do what they knew would reveal whether your feelings for then were real or a lie you fabricated for your job. But he wasn’t one to easily be vulnerable, especially not after the blow that they faced today.

Jimin can sense it, the words on their leader’s lip, and he decides to take over. Namjoon steps aside as Jimin kneels on the floor in front of you. He takes your hands that are fidgeting on your lap and place them by your side on the seat, resting the weight of his head there instead.

He hugs your lap with so much love you can’t mistake it for an illusion, he rubs his head into you as much as he can.

“Stay with us,” if his actions weren’t a shock to your system enough, his words pushed you over the edge. You look into each of their eyes and the vulnerability you had learned to recognise was there begging you to want to stay.

“But I...” you don’t know what you want to say, the beating of your own heart was overwhelming in your chest. “I- I hurt you all so much.”

Yoongi hums in agreement, stepping forward to stroke your hair back, the hurt was still there they couldn’t lie to you, but losing you would be worse.

“Do you love us?” Jungkook asks taking a seat beside you, Taehyung sits by your other side. Jimin rubs little circles into your thigh while they wait for your answer.

“So much,” you confess. “I couldn’t do it, I- I”

Your words break off in a sob, as Tae takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to the back of it, a weight lifted off his chest. Jungkook pulls you into him, arms wraps around you as you let out your cries and the man in your lap places little kisses on the expanse of your thighs. You feel overwhelmed with the love theyre displaying when you were expecting their hate.

“But I dont understand,” you cry, “why aren’t you all angry, why aren’t you yelling at me?”

“We love you too,” Jin smiles the way he only reserves for you, and you feel thankful for it.

“It doesn’t matter how you got to us dove,” Hobi comes to kneel beside Jimin, wanting to be close to you too. “If it weren’t for your job you wouldn’t have met us.”

“I don’t know about that Hobi,” Namjoon chuckles. “You were meant for us my love, we would have found you one way or another.”

“We forgive you,” Jungkook kisses your hair. “Just don’t leave us.”

“We wouldn’t let you go even if you tried,” Tae voice rumbles in, leaning his face against your neck while the youngest holds you, still latched to your hand.

“You’re ours,” Jimin’s muffled voice comes from your lap, he’s pressed his face into you.

They would never let you go, and you don’t want them to. You thought all they wanted was love, but now you think you’ve reflected your own desire into them, they just wanted you.

2K notes · View notes

lilxberry · 3 years

Text

Cap Doesn’t Like Bullies - Steve Rogers

Synopsis;

Your daughter meets her biggest hero to which you’re completely oblivious to the fact during the entire encounter. Her confidence certainly didn’t waver like you had expected it would of a child meeting someone such as Captain America.

Bruh I’m in love with him. LOOK AT HIS FACE!

Warnings: FLUFF! Rude ass stranger. A lil bit o’ language. A sassy child.

Words: 3,305

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader (female reader) (single mom!reader)

(A/N: I named the daughter Kira but you can happily change it. It’s just a name I can easily associate with a child for some reason lmao.)

(A/N 2: I fixed as many mistakes I could find and hopefully, it’ll be more bearable to read lmao.)

Chapter 2 >

_______________

“Mommy,” Kira, your little girl whined.

“Yes baby?” You swung your conjoined hands widely causing her to giggle which in turn, made you smile.

“Can we go to the park today?” Her Captain America backpack bounced on her shoulders with each step. The mostly blue bag clashed yet also complimented the very pink, puffy coat that she wore.

You looked down at her with a raised eyebrow as you watched her for a reaction. “Really? In this weather?”

Kira threw her head back and groaned before exasperatingly replying as if it were the most obvious thing she could have ever spoken. “YES! If we’re at the park, I’ll want to run around and running around will keep me warm. It’s always cold at home but you won’t let me run around.”

A smart little drama queen.

You desperately tried to hide your amusement because you know if she senses that you hadn’t taken her seriously, even more dramatics would be added. “That’s because we can’t run around inside. We might-“

“We might break something. I KNOW! Ugh…” Her feet drag slightly as she walks. She huffs and lowers her head, watching her feet as you move along the sidewalk. You smirk ever so slightly as you watch the top of her head which adorned a woolly hat in an attempt to keep her warm in the season of winter.

“We can go to the park-“ She perked up instantly with a gasp, looking up at you with wide, hopeful eyes. “ONLY, and only, if we can get burgers, too.”

She pauses her steps and looks up at you with a stern, serious expression as she thrusts her hand forward, prompting you to take a hold of it. “You’ve got yourself a deal!” Kira shook your hand firmly and rapidly before she began to pull you along in the direction of the park that was honestly too cold to be sat in.

You huffed a chuckle as you allowed your 6 year old to pull you along the pavements and closer to the large open space of the park.

_______________

The inside of the small Brooklyn burger joint was certainly warmer than the harsh weather that lashed at your face and every inch of exposed skin at the park. Your daughters face matched her coat in colour by the time you reached the building.

Waiting in line, your daughter wormed her hands out of the sparkly knitted gloves, stuffing them in her coat pocket before tearing her hat off of her head and stuffing that in the other available pocket. You chuckled as she tried to brush the mess of locks down with her hands and the cheesy grin she flashed you only made your laugh more.

The missing baby tooth at the forefront of her mouth adding a funny effect to the adorable face you had the tendency to squish between your hands tenderly.

The person in front of the two of you had just finished ordering and just as you were about to step forward with your daughter at your side, someone had rudely pushed in front of you, effectively cutting you off.

You scoffed at the sheer audacity this man had in believing he could cut the line, but it was your daughter who spoke up. Sometimes you cursed yourself for teaching her to stand up for herself in situations as these. You forget your daughter has a vote of confidence like no other and will speak her mind, even if the person is nearly 4 times her height.

Of course, these lessons were meant for her to deal with people her size and age, fellow students who bully her or others, seeing as she’s only 6, not for grown ass adult males.

“Cutting is rude. You should wait in line like everybody else mister.” You heard the pissed tone she spoke with and couldn’t decide whether to find it adorable, humorous, or concerning.

You heard the man scoff and honestly, your blood began to boil. He turned towards the two of you and looked you up and down as if scrutinising you before peering down at your daughter with disinterest.

“I’m ordering for one, you’re ordering for two. I haven’t got time to wait for mama bear to order with her equally scruffy little cub.” He rolled his eyes and looked towards the employee who honestly, looked just about as pissed as you did.

You clenched your fist and took a deep breath in the hopes of calming down. Honestly, it hadn’t worked well. “If you’d asked nicely, we would have happily let you order before us. There isn’t any need to be rude, especially to my kid.”

He heaved a deep sigh before turning to look at the two of you once more. He opened his mouth to no doubt retort back with yet another rude remark but someone elses’ voice swiftly cut him off. “I believe you should listen to the young lady and wait your turn like everybody else.”

The stranger, mighty handsome stranger you might add, with beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair smiled down at your daughter and sent her a discreet wink. She beamed up at the tall stranger as he turned to look towards the man who had rudely cut you off in line, his features hardening.

“You should apologise and move yourself to the back of the line. What you’ve said was unacceptable and certainly no way to speak to a woman and her child.” He folded his arms over his chest, his muscles, even though hidden behind the material of his long sleeves, bulged with incredible size.

The man that had cut the line looked up at your saviour and gulped but relatively kept his features schooled. “No chance. I only said what’s true. Why should I be punished because of that?”

The stranger chuckled humourlessly as he stepped forward, the incredibly rude man taking a step back out of fear. “Whether what you said was true or false, which was absolutely false, doesn’t matter. You disrespected another in not only speaking to them as if they’re below you, but by simply cutting in line in the first place.”

“Yeah. You’re just a bully. Bullies are rude and always cut in line,” your daughter chirped with pride. The stranger smiled down at your daughter and nodded his head.

“That’s right, sweetie.”

The man scoffed before turning towards the employee stood behind the counter. “Are you really going to let him speak to a paying customer like that?” he asked incredulously.

The employee had a smirk cross her lips and she popped her hip out before folding her arms in front of her. “You haven’t paid for anything. Now, please leave before I get my manager to call the cops to have you removed.”

The man huffed indignantly before grumbling and stomping pass the handsome stranger, shoulder checking him on the way. The stranger rolled his eyes before catching a hold of the mans’ arm and pulling him back slightly. “You still haven’t apologised.”

“Sorry.” His tone was fake and nothing but sarcastic but nonetheless, the stranger released him, probably knowing that was the best apology they should expect from him.

The small interior of the place slowly bustled back to its quiet chatter of the few customers inside. The stranger smiled down towards the two of you and you couldn’t help but be enraptured with how perfect his smile was.

“Are you ladies alright?”

Your daughter rapidly nodded her head, grinning widely once more. “Sure are mister. Thank you!”

You cleared your throat, shaking yourself out of your reverie and smiling up at him. ‘Stop gawking at him, idiot!’

“Uh, yes. Thank you.”

His smile seemed to widen, and he looked quite bashful and oh god, your stomach did flips when looking at him. “It’s nothing, ma’am. I don’t tolerate bullies, I suppose.”

Kira gasped and her eyes lit up. “Like Captain America! The Cap doesn’t like bullies, either!”

The stranger chuckled and lowered himself to your daughters’ height. “Yep, like Captain America.” Honestly, he seemed almost pleased at the connection, but you couldn’t place why. Although, if you were say compared to someone like Black Widow, you certainly would feel chuffed yourself, so you couldn’t blame him.

You failed to realise you were staring at the stranger, again, until you felt a small tug on your arm. You snapped yourself out of small daydream to look down at your daughter. “Ask him if he wants to join us,” she whispered although by the huff of laughter that he tried, and failed, to supress, he clearly heard.

“Uh, yeah. Would you like to join us…?” You trailed off, hoping the stranger would give you his name. He seemed to pick up on his lack of introduction as he stood to his full height, once again towering over you.

He held his hand out before him for you to take, which you did. “Steve.”

“Well, would you like to join us, Steve? We’d like to thank you for standing up to that rude man and pay for your meal if you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Well, that’s a really nice offer…” Now it was his turn to trail off.

“Y/N!” your daughter exclaimed loudly. “And I’m Kira!”

He chuckled. “Y/N. And Kira. But I was actually going to offer to pay for your meals.”

“Oh, no. That’s oka-“

“Thank you, Steve!”

You looked down at your daughter with wide eyes as she cut you off and accepted the strangers’ offer. Steve chuckled and glanced down at Kira. “Very well. Should we order then?”

Kira grasped your hand in her smaller one and pulled you to the front of the counter, beckoning Steve to follow. You couldn’t help but shake your head, feeling only ever so slightly embarrassed by your daughters’ antics.

_______________

You daughter was enthralled with whatever came out of Steves’ mouth; completely enraptured with the stories he told. Though, you couldn’t really blame her.

Kira wasn’t one to shy away from conversation, but it had honestly shocked you how versed she became in conversation with the man the two of you had only met 45 minutes prior.

Yes. 45 minutes.

It seemed none of you really wanted to part ways; all enjoying yourselves with flowing conversation and shared smiles.

“So,” Steve started, his arms resting on top of the table that sat between him and you and Kira. “You mentioned Captain America earlier, and you have him on your backpack. Do you like him?”

“Yeah! He’s my favourite hero!” Gosh did she get excited over the topic of heroes.

He chuckled. “And why’s that?”

You rolled your eyes knowing what was coming yet couldn’t stop the fond smile growing on your face. “Well, he’s super cool. He’s brave, kind, strong and he doesn’t like bullies. I don’t like bullies either.” Then, a devilish smile broke out on her small, rounded face. “Mommy likes him too. She thinks he’s pretty. AND SHE HASN’T EVEN SEEN HIS FACE PROPERLY! She’s seen his butt though, looks at it a lot.”

Your eyes widened and the smile was promptly wiped from your face whilst Steve seemingly choked on his spit and laughed nervously. “I think she’s in love with him,” Kira whispered, further embarrassing you.

“OKAY! That’s enough, ha…”

Steve smiled, albeit sheepishly, towards the two of you. “Well, I believe Captain America would think your moms’ pretty, too.”

Kira shrug, shovelling a cold, left over fry from the basket into her mouth. “I know.”

You groaned softly and hid your face behind your hand, slumping in your seat. Your whole face felt hot. Trying to calm your racing heart, you peered at Kira. “Why don’t you tell him about your birthday sweetie?”

“OH YEAH! Mommies taking me to the Captain America display!” Kira bounced in her seat and if her eyes hadn’t already twinkled with excitement, they certainly did now after she’s formulated a plan quickly in her mind. “You should definitely come, mister.”

You and Steve both spluttered at her invitation.

“Oh honey, I don’t think Steve would-“

“W-well, it’s not up to me-“

Kira groaned and rolled her eyes overdramatically before looking at Steve. “Yep. It’s up to me.” She then turned towards you. “And, we can just ask Steve if he would like to.” To which she faced Steve once more, looking at him intently. “Would you like to come too?”

Steve looked extremely apprehensive to answer and looked towards you in the hopes of getting some guidance in what to say. If he were being honest, this past hour he’d felt nothing but calm and happy, forgetting his worries and has actually taken a break from all the responsibilities he’s been handed.

He very much liked both yourself and Kira, feeling content in both of your presences’ and would very much like if he continued to get to know both yourself and Kira more. He just certainly didn’t want to overstep.

He internally cheered for himself when you nodded your head discreetly. Your face told him that the young girl who looked extremely hopeful would certainly not cease until she succeeded in getting what she wanted in this moment.

“Uh…” He turned his gaze towards Kira once more gave her a small smile. “I would love to go to the Captain America display for your birthday.”

Kira cheered loudly and you shook your head with an adoring smile directed to the young girl sat beside you. “Great! You should give your number to my mommy so we can plan it properly.” She sipped on her half-drunken refill of milkshake after speaking so nonchalantly.

Both Steve and yourself felt and looked dumbfounded. Had she really just said that?

Steve chuckled before his eyes darted down towards your phone which was sat face down atop the table. “May I?”

“Oh, uh, yep.” You fumbled with picking your phone up, unlocking it and opening up a new contact before handing your phone over to Steve, face burning and a shy smile adorning your features. Your hands brushed against one another as he carefully took the phone from your hold and typed in his full name and phone number.

He was just about to hand it back to you when Kira swiftly took it and looked at the screen. She shook her head before looking up at Steve. “You gotta add a picture, silly.” She raised the phone after tapping the picture icon atop the contact, pointing it straight at Steve.

The poor man panicked and smiled quite awkwardly as your daughter snapped the photo. You slapped a hand over your mouth to try desperately hide your laugh, which hadn’t really been that successful.

Kira observed the picture on the screen before nodding; she clearly found the picture acceptable for use. Steve couldn’t help but also find it quite amusing and chuckled himself. Your daughter swiftly handed you your phone back but once in your hand, you had spotted the time and your eyes slightly widened.

“Oh wow, is it really that late?” you questioned yourself but prompted Steve to check the time himself by looking down at his watch. You looked up towards him with an apologetic smile and shrugged your shoulders. “Sorry, we really should get going. Kira has school in the morning.”

Steve shook his head and smiled, unbothered by your information. “No, no, it’s perfectly fine. I completely understand.”

“Thank you, and sorry again.” You looked sheepish as you stood and put your own jacket back on before beckoning Kira to stand herself. She pouted but did as she was told, allowing you to help her with her coat, to which she then put her hat back on top her head and gloves back on her small hands.

Steve stood and cleared his throat as he stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. You looked up away from Kira and sent him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen upon someone’s face and miraculously, he felt a lot let nervous.

“Thank you for the wonderful company and the meal,” you spoke with such sincerity that made his heart thump louder and harder than any life threating mission ever could.

“And for standing up to that bully for us,” Kira added.

You huffed laugh. “Yes, and that.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He nodded his head.

Kira stepped forward which prompted Steve to lower himself to her height just as he had done so earlier. “It was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too, ma’am.”

She beamed up at him before sticking her hand out and her expression was nothing but serious, one which Steve copied as he took her hand and shook it. “My mommy will text you later about my birthday.” She withdrew her hand before her big, bright smile reappeared. She grasped your hand in hers and waved as she began to pull you out of the burger joint.

“Bye Captain America!”

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets comically and you did nothing but splutter, opening and closing your mouth in the hopes that some words would pass out of you as your daughter pulled you out through the doors and in the direction of your small Brooklyn apartment.

Steve froze and watched wide eyed as you both left through the door, the bell atop jingling when it closed behind you. “Huh. Smart kid.” He shook his head before laughing and standing, collecting his jacket and leaving a tip on the table before slowly exiting the building himself, walking towards his bike ready to head back to the tower, completely dazed and the image of you ingrained into his mind.

Meanwhile, you finally snapped out of your shocked and flustered state halfway down the sidewalk. “YOU KNEW THAT WAS CAPTAIN AMERICA?!”

“Yep,” your daughter replied, popping the ‘P’ and acting completely nonchalant about the whole ordeal.

“AND YOU TOLD HIM I LIKE HIS BUTT?!”

“Yep.”

You narrowed your eyes at the small figure of your daughter. “You little monster.” You swept her up into your arms and began to blow raspberries against her chubby little cheek, causing her to burst into a fit of giggles and loud laughter.

You couldn’t help but laugh along with her and then Steves’ earlier comment came to the forefront of your mind. ‘Captain America thinks I’m pretty! HOLY SHIT!’

You’d dwell on that later though.

“MY MOMMY LIKES CAPTAIN AMERICAS’ BUTT!” Kira shouted as she continued to gasp out giggles and you couldn’t help but laugh and indulge in her silly behaviour.

“I LIKE CAPTAIN AMERICAS’ BUTT!”

Kira roared in laughter once more along with you, and you both continued to find an abundance of humour in the situation the entire walk home.

_______________

“Hey punk,” Bucky spoke as he entered the main, spacious shared living room and spotted Steve sat on the couch, staring at his phone and smiling widely as his eyes scan over the words you had texted him.

“What’s got you grinning like that?” Bucky playfully quipped, a small smirk across his lips.

“Uh, nothing.” It could have been convincing if Steve had looked away from his phone and his already large smile didn’t widen further.

“Sure. Nothing.” Bucky shakes his head and sits beside his friend. “She pretty?”

Usually, Steve would question what made his friend think it was a woman, but he was so dazed and giddy, he couldn’t find it in him to deny it. “She’s so beautiful Buck.”

“Gotta date?”

“Not yet.”

Bucky chuckled and slapped his friends’ shoulder in good nature as he shook his head. “Well, good luck, punk. I hope you get that date.” Bucky stood and huffed a laugh at Steve still grinning at his phone as he left to head towards the kitchen, missing Steves’ mumbled response.

“Me too.”

_______________

Gosh dang do I love this man

That is all

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual @iwazoomingouttahere @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

454 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

earned it [04]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. DARK CONTENT, graphic violence, mentions of blood, explicit murder, sexual violence, angst, tw dubcon, mentions of mass murder, death threats, cheating, implications of suicide, typical mafia business + very unedited (please PLEASE read at your own discretion! if you do not wish to proceed to read because of the aforementioned warnings but want to know what happened anyway, please drop into my asks and i’ll retell it in a much less graphic version!)

chapter song. never forget you (zara larsson, mnek)

series masterlist

Death.

The stench of it reeked everywhere. Blood pooled at the ends of your dress, the warm liquid dripping from your fingers. You couldn’t see what was in front of you, not when your vision had been obscured black, painted red with everyone’s lifeless eyes staring back emptily at you and carrying an ominous message behind words that never had the chance to be spoken.

Satoru was gone.

You ran through flights of stairs as you bunched your dress up, dried blood present on your cheek. The gray cemented walls of this unknown building began to close down on you, suffocating you, trapping you – and then there he was. Your lover, your world, your everything – he stood on top of a pile of bodies, his face as grim as the deaths he’s caused, but that wasn’t what stood out from the scene. It was the fact you couldn’t recognize him anymore; the man before you was nothing else but the devil incarnate himself. Then, just as you ran his way, fingers outstretched to grasp at his shirt, Satoru disappeared.

He was gone.

A scream ripped out your throat as you scrambled for the sheets, pulling them up in a haste to shield yourself. The images were now gone, but that fear kept drumming into you, gloops of blood making its way through your room’s white exterior.

It’s not real, it’s not real – Satoru’s arms snaked over to your side, his eyes droopy from being woken up. You would’ve apologized, knowing he never really got proper sleep, but you were already wrapping your arms around yourself, gaze repeatedly darting back to the walls – to check for bodies, for blood, for death, for him.

“Hey,” Satoru drew you close to him until your head fell on his chest. Out of instinct, you flattened your ear above where his heartbeat rested. Thump thump – he was real, he was safe, alive – he wouldn’t do that. Satoru wasn’t that kind of person. You clung to him like a koala and mumbled incoherently at the skin of his neck, clutching his shirt so tight it wrinkled horribly. Satoru merely littered kisses all over the crown of your head to soothe you, although he was not free to this fear you felt; he was just as nervous for an unknown reason. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

“You-you were leaving—”

“Shh, angel, I’m not, I’m here,” he wrapped you closer to his body, the sheets still warm and smelling like him as if to add reassurance to his words. “You’re alright. I’m here, angel, it’s okay.”

“I was going to die,” you quivered. It had only been a fleeting moment when you saw it, but you were there too. Dressed in white, arms covered in lace and a crown adorning your head; it seemed as if you were meant to be on top of the bodies, and Satoru sat upon it like a throne. It transitioned from being the witness to being the victim in a minute and your chest squeezed so hard you choked out, “I was dying, baby.”

“You’re not going to die. No one’s going to hurt you, you understand?” Satoru cupped your cheeks to force you to look him in the eye. “I’m going to keep you safe no matter what. Not leaving your side, angel, that’s a promise.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I would never do that,” he nodded before he raised your pinky. Satoru looped both your fingers and kissed the conjoined form, not once leaving your gaze the whole time. “I promise,” he whispered, foreheads touching and breaths mingling. Like one soul intertwined, you once mused, feeling yourself get lost in the depth of azure pools he harboured. “There’s nowhere to go without you anyway; you’re the greatest gift in my life. I’d do anything for you.”

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I won’t, angel. I never will.”

And you believed that. Like the fool you were, you really believed that.

The bank loomed over you, its mere presence impending and bringing about a wave of discomfort to you. Awkwardly, you stepped inside, hiding your face in your hair to conceal the nausea threatening to urge you to throw up. You couldn’t help but survey the entire area out of instant wariness, holding tighter to your phone.

Seeing as there was no line, you sat on the nearest open window. “Hi, uhm…I recently got transferred this money from…an old friend, you could say,” you informed with furrowed brows, fishing your phone out of your pocket as you logged into your account. The whole time, your hands turned sweaty and the phone nearly slipped from your grasp out of anxiety. The woman assisting you flashed you a sympathetic smile, patient and kind enough to listen to your small voice through the glass. “I lost contact with them so I can’t return it. I was wondering if maybe you could help me rewind the transaction?”

“Oh, we can definitely do that Ma’am, may I see?” Nodding, you handed her your phone. In an instant, the polite smile fell from her lips, altering into a nervous one the next. “Oh…” she blinked back at the digits, clearly overwhelmed from the amount of zeroes. Dropping her voice, she leaned closer to you, “Do you…do you know the account owner personally?”

“Yes,” you admitted, “Well, I used to.”

“And they wired you all this?”

“About two weeks ago, yeah.”

The employee sat there for a full minute, possibly contemplating how to go about this. It didn’t set well with you – that mysterious, almost suspicious smile she had – that you debated whether just asking for your phone back. “Excuse me for a moment. I think I should take this to the higher-ups,” she announced while scanning the bank with narrowed eyes, leaving before you could have a say in it.

The next minutes that passed had never felt more gruelling.

You sat there with a frantic heart, your jeans damp from the countless times you’ve wiped your hand on it. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. People came in for their own agendas, the hushed ‘inside voice’ as faint as ever, then they left. Repeat. End of conversation.

It was just another normal, boring day for everyone else – but not for you.

“Miss?” a voice pulled you away from your thoughts. A half-bald man was now standing before you, the previous employee you’d been talking to right behind him, her head ducked down. Manager, his tag read, which made sense. He gestured for you to come inside the back parts of the bank, and you gripped your purse tighter as you followed them.

The inside wasn’t that special or different from the outside. There were lesser chairs but bigger, brighter white walls. His office was located right in the middle where the female employee closed the glass doors behind you, silent and timid as she prepared you tea. Meanwhile, you sat there with your hands wrung in your lap, stomach already falling from the grim expression he wore. “About the funds, I’m afraid we can’t do anything about this transaction. While it had been transferred you, neither us nor the bank has the authorization to do anything about this. Whoever sent it to you is the only one that can either take it back or liquidize it,” he pushed his glasses back to his face, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “I’m afraid we can’t help you with this, Miss, we’re really sorry—”

“No!” you slammed your palms on the desk, “No, I don’t want the money, wire it back to him!”

“Miss, we already told you, it’s out of control—”

You shook your head. This wasn’t real – Satoru had to be joking! He couldn’t just give you this and disappear into thin air! In fact, you never even cared for the money; you were just hoping that maybe you’d find a way back to him if nothing but digits was the only thing left to prove he even existed. Desperation clawed its way through your throat as you fell on your knees, helpless tears streaming down your face. “Please, you have to do something, I don’t want the money, I just want him back, please! I just need to talk to him once more and he’s your client, right? Let me talk to him, I know you have contact with him, Sir, please, I’m begging you—”

“Security!” the manager hollered. The sounds of doors slamming open made you stand up straight, eyes wide at the incoming pairs of guards ready to escort you out. “It’s best you schedule a personal appointment with the account owner, Miss. We also suggest you remain on the down-low instead of causing a ruckus like this. You don’t know who’s going to be grabbing at every opportunity to take what was given to you.”

“Everything’s been taken away from me!” you argued back, walking around the desk to clasp the manager’s hand. He pulled away for a moment before you squeezed his hands, the tearing of your heart too painful to bear. You just wanted to see him. “Come on, please, I don’t care about the money, I just—”

They didn’t let you finish. Just like Satoru, just like everybody else, they discarded you to the side, treated you like you were a nobody who didn’t deserve a second chance.

“Escort her out, please.”

And just like that, your fate had been decided. No...perhaps it had been determined the moment he left, and now you walked blearily along the narrowed gaps between buildings, unable to find your way back home.

Where was home anyway? Your penthouse with Satoru? Your cramped dorm back at the university? Your empty flat that had once been a happy home with your parents before they too, left you behind with nothing but a family portrait as a memory? It was pathetic. You meant nothing. Obviously, no one valued you enough, not even Satoru who’d just given you enough to let you live comfortably for the rest of your life. But no matter how much he provided, it wasn’t what you wanted. It wouldn’t bring back the one thing you wanted most, and you fell on the rough pavement, too tired to care about the stinging of your palms.

You clutched at your heart in a debilitated attempt to soothe way your chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were literally in the middle of the nowhere, trapped between the walls that hid you in the darkness and muffled your cries.

He’d left – he really left.

He didn’t keep his promise, and your nightmare had now become reality. You had to bite down your shirt to keep the agony to yourself, nails dug so deep into your jeans it left a mark above your skin. Hours passed, maybe minutes – who knew?

The sun had gone down and the streets grew busier than before, the honking and lively bustling of the night city like background noise to you.

Your key back to the penthouse weighed heavily at your back pocket. There was still the option of just going back home, but what good would that do? Everywhere you went, you were reminded of him. There was no escaping the beautiful memories he left you with, there was no exit from his miserable dream you were forced to wake up into.

Nothing mattered anymore. You felt so lost, the motivation to find your way back depleted just like your energy. You only had your bodily instincts to thank for when your stomach grumbled, demanding to be fed and nurtured even in such a hopeless situation. It made you want to laugh – that even as your heart and soul gave up on you – your body was doing its best to keep you alive and get through the day. You heaved yourself away from the wall and wiped the dirt away from your palms, the rhythm of your feet one heavy clump next to the other.

There was a nice Chinese restaurant at the end of the street that glowed brightly, invitingly. If you could just have dinner, maybe you’d feel better.

But you never got three steps across.

A cold blade had been pressed to your neck, sinister laughter echoing from the darkness of the night. “Scream and you die, sweetheart,” a gruff voice crooned in your ear, followed by a more high-pitched, maniacal chuckles. There was two of them. Fear lit your nerves up and you scrambled to run, but this man was too strong. He didn’t even have to try too much into increasing pressure to your neck, slicing the first layers of your skin that was enough to prick both blood and tears from you. “Ah, ah, ah! Resisting won’t get you anywhere. We just want to talk, okay? No foul play needed.”

You shut your eyes in submission, too afraid to even swallow the bile rising in case the movement would push the knife further. You could only let out a weak, “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, what else?” said his accomplice, showing up in front of you with a creepy smile. He tipped his head side to the side, revealing the silver replacements of his teeth that glinted under the streetlights. “You got his hidden slush fund, didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t need to lie, we saw you leave that bank. Plus, everyone’s been talking about it!” cheered the guy behind you, pushing you forwards with his blade finally withdrawn. You stumbled on your feet as they pointed to the nearest ATM. For a moment, you contemplated making a run for it. The ATM was only a few kilometres away from the Chinese restaurant and you could be safe if you run fast enough, but you were too obvious, the deceit written all over your face. The first guy then pressed a gun against your head, a silent reminder that you were the weaker one here. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, “Now you’ll withdraw it little by little, okay? We just want a piece of it, a fraction of it is enough to last us a lifetime.”

Exhaling deeply, you raised your hands in surrender. “I can’t withdraw it.”

“The fuck did you say?”

“I said I can’t withdraw it! I don’t have access—”

“Bullshit, bitch, you’ve got so much of it, just give to us before we kill you,” he cocked his gun, his friend following suit and retrieving a pistol from his belt. Your lips quivered at the sight of two guns aimed at your way, but you remained firm in your spot, shaking your head at them. The man’s eyes darkened, displeased by your response. He narrowed his eyes at you before nodding to his friend.

“Fuck this man, she’s a selfish cunt. Take her phone and her belongings.”

“No, please, don’t—”

It was too late. They had pushed you on the ground, your bum throbbing from the fall. The second guy rummaged your pockets before pulling out your wallet, jaw dropping from the contents. “Fuck,” he exclaimed, flashing a Polaroid you had kept the whole time. “This you and Six Eyes?”

Your heart fell.

It was a photo of you and Satoru on your first anniversary where he’d whisked you off to a sky tower, arrogantly declaring that he’d make you experience the best date ever.

He wasn’t lying – his arrangement of fireworks and a romantic date in the sky really had been the best – and he’d snapped a picture of you then, sneakily landing a kiss on your cheek while you gasped at the display of fireworks before you.

Just seeing it felt like torture all over again, and the thief snickered at your tear stained face. “Oh, I see. You’re his whore, aren’t you? Everyone called it bullshit when word got around Six Eyes had a little angel hidden somewhere around here. I gotta say though, you are a pretty thing. Makes sense you got him pussy whipped.”

“Whoever Six eyes fucks – especially someone he liked enough to pay this much – that is fine meat, man,” the other muttered more to himself. His eyes then lit up with a thought, the smirk tugging at his lips screaming trouble. “It’d be a shame to not have a taste.”

You paled. Scrambling as much as you could with sore legs, you pushed their arms away from you. “Let go of me!” you cried out, kicking harder when they’ve discarded their guns and focused on carrying you instead. Everything muted that night except for the pounding of your heart as you struggled to get away from them, arms flailing the moment one of them yanked your shirt down to expose your bra. “Don’t fucking touch me, let go!”

It must be luck that your punch landed on his nose, a sickening crack resonating in the street. All of you remained still, with you flattening your back on the wall, arms protectively sheltering your chest and the pair staring at the other guy’s broken nose.

He winced at seeing blood on his fingers, “Oh, you’re just asking for it bitch,” he snarled, snapping his fingers to get his friend’s attention and pointing at you. “Grab her leg.”

Both of them made quick work. It all happened so fast you couldn’t tell which was who anymore. Your shirt had been ripped off; the straps of your bra tugged down to free a nipple while your arms had been knocked into the building behind you. One of them kept you immobile, their grips too strong and their bodies twice your size that you were easily overpowered. You never cried so hard in your life – not even when you realized Satoru had left – and your throat ached from how much you wept.

“Stop, no, let go of me!”

“Shut her the fuck up, bruh,” the man unzipping your jeans scowled, his fingers playing with the waistband of your underwear. You sobbed and screamed, fought hard as much as you could, but you were too weak. Too vulnerable. Too pathetic.

Maybe it was just better to let go.

Maybe it was just better to stop.

Your shoulders fell as they shimmied your jeans down your hips, each and every inch of your body no longer yours. Was this how you would die? Was this how you would finish? If so, you would’ve appreciated at least one last dinner.

You were about to close your eyes the moment you heard the sounds of a man’s belt unbuckling, too lost in your own horror that you failed to hear the screeching of tires, and neither did they. And then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, like an angel dropping from the heavens – gunshots rang through the air. Blood splattered to your cheek. Heavy bodies crunched against the ground.

He’d come back.

Except it wasn’t Satoru leaning in front of a car when you opened your eyes. The man stood a few inches shorter, blond shaggy hair falling just above his eyebrows, the ends dyed black. His body was tilted to the side, half of his weight shifted on a cane upon closer look, but you were mostly captivated in his eyes. He showed no malice intent; hell, he didn’t even spare a glance at the corpses with holes between their eyes, silently blowing the smoke away from his barrel like this was a common thing for him.

He had his eyes on you, uncaring of the fact you were half-naked before him since his attention remained on your face.

“So it’s true,” he mused, “I didn’t believe at first when they said Six Eyes really gave the notes to his girl. A commoner, no less,” he limped towards you, feline-eyes slanted to inspect you. “But nothing about you is common, is there? To get the demon to soften up…you really must be something else,” his gloved hands ran a finger down to your jaw, and you shut your eyes tight, leaning away from his touch. The man clicked his tongue at your reactions but withdrew his hand anyway, stepping a few feet away from you to give you space. “Don’t be so scared. You and I are not that different. We’re both just poor victims of facing the consequences of his actions,” he tapped his cane at your shoes, his face devoid of expression. “Stand up. You won’t get anywhere by crying. You need to learn how to fight.”

You swung the door open, ready to finally get the shoes you’ve been gushing to Naoya about for days. But you were met with nothing but a tuft of white hair, blood smattered on his cheeks, and lips crashing down onto yours. Satoru pinned you against the wall in the same manner he held you on that day he left, his kisses harsh and longing while you moaned into his mouth, legs turning into jelly.

“Angel,” he rasped into your mouth, grinding his boner to the thin material of your night gown. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

Satoru forced his tongue past your lips and kept you close to him, his intoxicating scent tempting you to give in and enjoy it already. For a split second, you faltered, kissing him back with the love you once harboured for him, but then you blanked.

This was Satoru.

You were married to Naoya.

He’d began to leave kisses at your jawline when you pulled back, landing a sharp elbow right at his head. Satoru fell on the floor and you panted above him as you tried to make yourself decent. Fuck, that hurt like a bitch. You had to roll your shoulders back to get rid of the tension as you made the mental note to train in combat harder, pinching the bridge of your noise before you summoned the servants.

Satoru was knocked out for a solid hour. You found it funny that the infamous omnipotent Six Eyes was now sprawled all over your couch, soft snores emitting from his lips. He’d been pretty unresponsive to you so ice far, not even a budge as you iced the bruise you’d left on his face.

You sighed. His shirt was stained with blood, the pads of his knuckles matted with wounds and bruises. You couldn’t help yourself from brushing his hair away from his eyes, humming a little until his eyes cracked open. Satoru stared at the ceiling before his eyes landed on you hovering before him, your touch gentle in paradox to the heat of your gaze. “What are you doing here, Satoru?” you sighed, gesturing to the mess he had on his shirt. “Where have you been?”

“In a fight.”

“No shit,” you rolled your eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

“I-I don’t know. I just…I lost it for a moment and—”

“Do I want to know why?”

“It’s stupid,” he mumbled to himself and faced the couch. Even after seven years, he was still very much the petty kid at heart. You could confidently bet he was pouting right now, and you crossed your leg over the other, hiding a small smile behind your palm. “I overheard one of my men making a sleazy comment that Naoya’s wife looked like a bitch who would jump at every alpha male,” Satoru grumbled, prying for your reaction by looking across his shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me after that.”

“Did you kill them?”

“Almost,” he scrunched his nose, “Then I pictured your face. Maybe you wouldn’t want me to do that.”

“So you care about what I want now?”

Satoru shut his eyes. Of course you’d never stop bringing that up – both to your demises – since you were both a sadist who didn’t mind receiving pain every now and then. Five years of marriage with Naoya taught you to be resilient to all types of pain, the experiences and horrors you’ve lived through practically making you immune to them now. Satoru, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be on the same boat as you. He sat up, his hips flushed next to your thighs, burying his hands on his head. “Angel, about everything... are we not going to talk about what happened before?”

“Is there anything to talk about?” you deadpanned, surprising the guy who widened his eyes at you. Surely, he must be expecting a different form of hatred coming from you, but you were indifferent – numb, empty. “The past is in the past, Satoru. You know better than anyone else it’s easier to just walk away.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” you faked a smile, placing your chin on your hands while blinking up at him under innocent eyes. Naoya once told you that your attitude of being unbothered bothered a lot more people, and it was a technique you’ve loved ever since. Seeing Satoru crumble before you...nothing felt more satisfying. “For barging in here or for kissing me? Maybe both?”

“For everything,” he answered brokenly, “For all the pain I’ve put you through.”

“Do you think apologies are going to suddenly eradicate that?”

“…No.”

“Then I don’t need it,” you taunted, patting his thigh as you stood up, tying the knots of your robe safer this time. You couldn’t be bothered to wear underwear beneath them; if Satoru tried laying his hands on you again, you wouldn’t hesitate to cut his fingers off, and the plain sight of a dagger now strapped in your thigh was enough of a reminder for him. He made sure to keep his distance.

“Come with me. I’ll show you what we’ve been working on,” Satoru’s footsteps were silent as you led him past the secret doors hidden behind Naoya’s study, the room leading into an even bigger part of the house that stored most of your possessions. Satoru let out an awed gasp behind you once the lights and slight whirs of the machine buzzed through the room, chemicals bubbling from one side and little pills being packaged on the other. Your face lit up in a smile from the sheer pride of your hard work, arms extended to the side to present everything. “This is mostly where we manufacture Xenet. All of this – it’s mine. My personal little laboratory, or as Naoya calls it, my playroom,” you grinned, “I feel at peace here.”

“Making drugs?”

“Being safe,” you corrected with a roll of your eyes, “Acting like I’m normal. That gives me peace.”

Satoru was hot on your heels all the way to the main laboratory, where you’d pestered him into wearing safety gloves before entering. You donned a white coat from the blast of AC that enraged goosebumps, leading him in front of a huge clear wall that formulated Xenet’s pure creation. Stacks of purple powder lined up on layers all kept inside a cooling room, and you stepped to the side, muttering to yourself while checking today’s inventory like it was totally normal to manufacture illegal drugs inside your home.

You would’ve looked domestic if Satoru wasn’t feeling the slightest bit dizzy from the drug-coated atmosphere; one that you’d gotten resistant from.

“What brought you here?” Satoru voiced out, shaking his head to himself. He looked terribly devastated, cheeks sunken and dark circles lining his eyes. “I never thought...”

“That I’d be like you?” you finished for him. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you smiled at Satoru and pushed past him to list down your observations for today. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not like Naoya; I’m not a mass murderer.”

“But you’re supporting him.”

“He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him,” you paused in your tracks, the spite evident in your tongue. “If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have to be like this. There are thousands of people after me because you named me after that account. Other than Naoya, there’s really no other reason I’m still alive and breathing,” Satoru was speechless from your confession, which was good, since you didn’t want him chatting too much in the first place. You ignored him as you continued typing notes on your monitor, acting unaffected, but the way you punched through the keys told a different story. “This is the least I could do for him. In exchange of protection, I’ll be sharing my intelligence and give him what he wants.”

“Doesn’t it sicken you that we’re like this? That we do all this – for money, power, control – without the slightest bit of conscience?” Satoru scoffed, “You’ve been married for him a long time. I know you’re not a stranger to the fact we even enjoy this.”

You stopped your task, turning to Satoru with flared nostrils. “You know, Satoru, painting yourself as a demon to look like a victim won’t make me sympathize,” you spat out, absolutely losing it. “I don’t care what you’ve been doing before you met me. I don’t care that you killed or hurt people. I’m not the slightest bit of the angel you claim me to be because if I was as pure as that, don’t you think I would’ve stopped loving you?”

Everything crumbled to dust.

Years of convincing yourself you didn’t care anymore, years of healing yourself, years of working hard to forget him – and all crumbled to dust.

“What are you—”

“I knew!” you cut him off, “I knew everything. I’m not dumb, Satoru. No matter how much you tried to hide it back then, I saw the blood stains. I could smell the alcohol. I know drugs when I see it,” Satoru took a step back in surprise, but you kept going. Now that you’ve started it, you might as well finish it, and your eyes pricked with tears before you could stop it. “But I never cared. I was selfish – blinded by love. Back then, I told myself I didn’t care who you were because I loved you unconditionally,” You were breathing hard from finally releasing that damn fucking weight off your shoulders, your resolve breaking as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand while Satoru remained frozen. “Every night, I cried myself to sleep. I always asked myself why did it have to be you? Why did you have to be that way? Why did you have to be a monster? It broke me to no end, Satoru, but every time I tried to think of you as awful, you would hold me so close that it felt like everything was a lie,” your voice faltered, “I loved you in spite of everything you’ve done. I’m just selfish like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried, “Many times...I turned a blind eye to it. I didn’t want to force something out of you because I knew you weren’t ready, but I was always waiting, Satoru,” gesturing to the both of you, Satoru watched your frantic movements. “Did you think I didn’t mean it when I said I would love you no matter what – no matter who you might be? I meant every word of it. You didn’t have to leave me because I would’ve still left everything behind if you asked me to go with you. I don’t care anymore, I never did. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Angel...” he trailed off, debating whether to hold you or just stay put. Satoru chose the latter and ran his hands over his hair, breathing hard as he, too, wavered. “I was scared. Each time I see your face, I-I can’t help but think about losing you. It haunts me every fucking night that what if I’m not strong enough? What if I couldn’t protect you?” his voice broke, “You were the only good thing in my life. I couldn’t handle losing you just because you got too close.”

You shoved him hard. “That’s no fucking excuse! You told me – y-you told me that I made you feel strong, that I gave you hope, that I made you feel like nothing could stand in your way – so don’t stand there and fucking tell me you were scared!”

Satoru kept taking a step back from the force of your hits, and he took them all with a brave face, but it seemed that he too had reached his limit as you leered, “Don’t be a fucking coward!”

“It’s because I loved you!” Satoru gripped your wrists and tugged you to him, effectively taking the ability to speak away from you. “My whole life, I got everything I wanted and things were easy for me! I don’t know what it’s like to lose something because I had control of everything except you! I didn’t want you stuck and burdened with my sins all for the sake of something as greed!” he bellowed, his forehead connected with yours and the warmth of his body more than welcoming. “I am a greedy man, angel, I would take everything I want with no hesitation but I couldn’t do it with you. It was easier to let you go,” he mumbled, “Than to regret making you unhappy by revealing my true self. Because the way you looked at me – you loved me so much I don’t think I’m worthy of it,” Satoru trudged closer to you, almost rubbing his skin over your soft ones just to say, “I don’t deserve you.”

You pulled away from him.

You’d tore open every chance of reconciliation. And if you were to be honest? You didn’t regret it.

“You’re right,” you snickered sarcastically, “You really don’t deserve me. Here I thought maybe Naoya would be the weaker of the two of you, but he’s more of a man than you are, Satoru. Naoya never gave an excuse for anything – it didn’t matter whether he was capable of something or not – he always tried to the best of his ability. He’s not the type to give up before he’s even tried it,” You knew you were just pushing his buttons, this was much clear from how Satoru was holding himself back, but you couldn’t stop. You were unstoppable, harsh as you challenged your once lost lover who had now wound up before you once more.

“If you truly loved me and felt you didn’t deserve me, then don’t you think you should’ve tried harder?”

You wanted him to regret it. You wanted him to feel your pain a thousand times more. You wanted him to realize what he’d done wrong. But most of all, you wanted him to try harder, to redeem himself, to be worthy of a second chance.

But just like how he’d broken your heart before, Satoru did it again.

Because even after every fucking thing, the only thing he was capable of saying was: “I’m sorry, Angel.”

You’d grown too tired of apologies. But because it was him, because you loved him, then you’d fucking hear it all over again. Just try, you wanted to beg, try for me, Satoru.

“Your plans will continue to fail, Satoru,” you agonized, “You never protected me. The moment you left, my life turned to hell and I almost died way too many times for me to count. This time is no different. We’re all just pawns in the Zen’in’s game, so if you really want both of us to live, you should do your part,” Sighing, you turned away from him, just about ready to call it a night. You were too tired. “Give back the money to Naoya, and he’ll keep me safe until the end of it all. You can just go back to where you came from.”

“Naoya won’t stand a chance against Toji. It’s not his money anyway, he should give it back to his cousin—”

“And neither is it yours!”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, you see the flaw of his plans too!” Satoru gestured to your lab, to everything that you proudly claimed an effort of your hard work. “Even if I gave back everything to Naoya, it won’t stop Toji from anything! He might not kill you anymore, but he’ll definitely kill your husband and take over the mafia, or his kid, then where will you go?”

“Follow him into death like the good wife I am.”

Satoru was stunned by the lack of hesitance in your answer. “You’re serious about this,” he echoed, blinking back to process the gravity of your devotion to your husband. “Even if Toji somehow dies, it doesn’t change the fact Naoya will still proceed with plans to manipulate Japan to his will. He’s going to drug everyone until he’s at the top of the food chain. Your husband doesn’t want to be a businessman; he wants to be a god. Plus, he doesn’t care about you, he’s only using you!”

“Like I said,” you smiled weakly, “He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him. Once he gets everything he wants, it’s game over.”

“No...” Satoru gritted his teeth, “No, I won’t let it happen. You’re not going anywhere; you’re not going to die!”

“So then protect me!” you shouted at his face, “Do what it is you never got to do before and protect me! I’m disposable, don’t you see? No matter what I do, no matter where I go, no matter how loyal I am to him, I am nothing! Each step I take forwards is just a step closer to my prolonged death!” you spewed word for word with so much venom Satoru felt like he was choking, but it was nothing in comparison as you fell on the floor, weeping with your fists pressed against your eyes. “If you hadn’t left me...I wouldn’t have to live fearing for my life every second. So protect me, Satoru. If you really want me to forgive you, at least save me this once.”

“I will, angel,” he promised – and how many more promises had he made, only to break them? You couldn’t be blamed for not believing him, for finding wariness in his words, for flinching a little bit as he crouched before you, cupping your cheek the same way he did before. “I promise you that. I’m never leaving, never gonna leave your side ever again.”

“You better not,” you chuckled darkly, eventually giving in from his touch.

Yes, he’d left you...yes, he’d hurt you – but until now it felt like home, even if it also conflicted with the fact this was wrong.

“My only wish is that when I die, I want to die without hating you,” you muttered with your lips hovering his, your breaths tangling and his hands finding its way to your hair. “So don’t make me hate you anymore, Satoru. Grant me peace before I leave.”

“You’re not going to die,” he closed his eyes and took the first leap of faith by grazing his lips with yours, a faint glimmer of the sweetness he once had the pleasure of savouring with each waking moment of his life. But he was stupid back then – he’d be even more stupid to not learn his lesson this time around.

“I won’t let that happen, you understand?” Satoru breathed out, “You will be safe. You will live.”

He had said it so confidently, so surely, that for a moment, you believed it. You believed maybe you’d really win this round and come out unscathed, to live, to survive – even if the chances were slim to none to begin with. For now, you didn’t want to be a mafia leader’s wife, nor did you want to be another’s broken lover. You just wanted to be someone who didn’t want to die, to find comfort in the empty promises from the same man who kept breaking and breaking them, and maybe for now, that was enough.

Without another thought, not even the image of Naoya’s smile, you let it go.

You pulled Satoru close to you and kissed him hard and deep, swallowing his surprised moan with that exact same greediness, that desperation to live. You knew the moment Naoya came back or Toji found you, everything would be game over. So for now, this was enough.

A/N. SOOOOO? THOUGHTS? THEORIESSSSS? DO WE HAVE A TEAM NAOYA HERE OR IS IT JUST ME HAHAHAHAHA

taglist OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @greysoulthings @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap | bolded users cannot be tagged ://

605 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 3 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.24

What She’s Done

05/19/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,590

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, Loki being the best bro, pregnancy problems

A/N: I’m sorry this is so late. I’m not going to explain too much as I want the focus to be on the chapter but I’m feeling better. Hope you all enjoy this one and I hope you can forgive me. haha As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my work on any other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The sound of the fanfare outside is muted. The heavy doors of the main room are shut.

Thor sits on his large steel, silver, and wooden throne. Normally, your own throne would have been moved into the room so that you could sit beside him. Today however, he wants you standing.

Loki stands on Thor’s left, his hands moving across his tablet at godly speeds. He’s busy. Always busy. While Thor has the final say, Loki sets everything up for him and comes to him with the choices that must be made.

He’s indispensable and both you and Thor know it. So, when the large doors are thrown open and Thor takes his hand off of your lower waist where he’d been massaging the knots away, as Ambassador Coates walks forward, you glare right at him and his judging distrustful look at the sight of Asgard’s Prince.

The music outside, large horns that sound more like a call to battle, slowly die and are completely cut off when the doors are shut. Just outside you know two Valkyrie are standing guard.

Inside, two more regular guards stand at attention.

“Ambassador Coates, I’m glad you saw fit to accept my invitation,” Thor says casually.

One wouldn’t know that Thor is angry. He sounds so welcoming. The charm he’s exuding is one you’ve never seen him use before but Loki doesn’t seem surprised by it. Instead, Loki’s lips seem to curve upwards a little in the teeniest smirk.

The Ambassador does as he’s expected and once he’s near the foot of the raised wooden floor where Thor’s throne sits, he gives a quick bow meeting first Thor’s singular eye and then your own blank gaze.

Keeping your anger in check is easy. You’re able to wipe your face of all emotion and it’s a skill now that you’re glad you learned in the orphanage you’d grown up in. Never letting anyone know how sad or hurt you are was key to your survival.

“Your Majesties,” the ambassador states, the irritation in his voice loud and clear for all of you to hear.

It looks like Thor’s plan to roll out the red carpet as if the ambassador were visiting royalty got his message across clearly.

“I hope I find you in good health? Are you faring well with the pregnancy?”

You don’t answer him. You simply stare.

“We’re well enough,” Thor begins. “Forgive me in my haste to get to the point, Ambassador Coates but as I hear it from my brother, you have been making it very difficult for Her Majesty the Queen of Asgard to meet with you, despite her warnings that what she had to share was imperative to the safety of Earth and human-kind.”

The ambassador blinks. He doesn’t attempt to speak or react in any other way than to show that he’s processing Thor’s words. All signs of irritation at his welcome gone.

“Would you say that is a fair statement for her having sent, what was it? Four emails and three phone calls?” Thor asks Loki.

“Seven emails and four phone calls,” he corrects.

“Right. Seven and four.”

“Your Majesty…”

“I think you have been under the impression that my marriage to my wife has been one in name only. She’s Queen but not really? Right? She has no power or authority? Is that what you think?”

Ambassador Coates swallows hard, sweat beading along his temples. He’s not a stout man. In fact, most women would think him good looking. Nothing to Thor or Loki, but for a human he’s handsome. His sweating in this climate makes no sense unless he’s suddenly stressed.

Maybe you shouldn’t feel bad but you do just a bit. You can’t imagine what he must feel being scrutinized by Thor, yourself, and Loki. Clearly he did something wrong and now he knows it.

“Your Majesties, I-I meant no offense. Unfortunately this is a busy time for myself and my colleagues and-”

“We have no time for your excuses,” Thor sits up straighter and draws his legs a little closer together before he licks his lips and holds his hand out towards you.

Taking it, you watch him get up and then he helps you sit before checking on you, “Better, cherub?”

You nod, looking up at him as he caresses the side of your head.

“The only reason you hold the job that you currently do is because my people and I chose to settle on Earth. You might say you owe it to us. Perhaps you’d still have been employed should we not have come here but from what I understand, your salary is considerably more than what it would have been were you in some other position.

“You are married and have children, too. Don’t you?” Thor asks.

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty.”

“So, it’s important to keep your job. Isn’t it?”

He says nothing, this time simply looking down at Thor’s feet.

“My wife is not just Queen in name but she has been exemplary in her devotion of ruling the people of Asgard at my side with honor and grace. The people love her. I’m not sure what made you think you could slight an Asgardian Queen but let me be clear. If our people should find out that there was such disrespect, believe me when I tell you that the loss of your job would be the last thing you’d have to worry about.”

“And just to be clear,” Loki cuts in as Thor’s taking a breath. “My brother is not threatening you. This is a statement of fact. We Asgardians are fiercely loyal and easily offended.”

You like that Ambassador Coates isn’t glaring at Loki anymore. The fear in his eyes is worrying, but you also know that your husband and brother would do nothing to actually hurt this idiot. They’re just making sure he knows where he stands.

Thor crosses his large arms across his wide chest. Though you don’t think he means it to be intimidating, you can see from the ambassador’s gulp that Thor’s minor flex has great impact.

Gods, he’s huge.

“As it just so happens, aside from being a Queen without fault to this kingdom, the Queen of Asgard has seen fit to continue to perform in her duties as the bridge between our two peoples. She refuses to let us make decisions for the human race and was attempting to contact you to warn you of impending dangers. And you, what was the phrase, love?”

“Blew me off.”

“That’s right, you blew her off. And yet we welcome you with respect and grace.”

“Your Majesties,” the ambassador begins, but Thor holds up his hand and he stops.

“Let this be a lesson in humility for you. I love Earth and for that reason alone, in addition to the fact that this is my wife’s home and now mine, we will forgive this lapse of judgement on your part,” you’ve never heard Thor sound more like a King than in this moment.

It’s also one of those moments where you really want to drag him back to the room and get him naked. He’s never been this attractive.

The ambassador bows his head, taking his punishment with dignity.

“Forgive me, your Majesties,” he begins to say something, but then stops himself.

“Speak your mind, Ambassador Coates,” Loki urges, seeing something you and Thor don’t.

“I merely wish to apologize for my lack of forethought. I was not the only one dismissing Her Majesty the Queen of Asgard but will be sure to rectify the behavior with my colleagues when I return.”

Loki smiles, turning his gentle gaze on you as he realizes that you were right. It wasn’t misogyny. Not on Ambassador Coates’s part. That might not be the case for everyone though.

“Perhaps I should schedule meetings with your colleagues so that we might have a quick talk about the expectations we have for our relationship going forward?”

Loki’s threat is veiled heavily, but Ambassador Coates still picks up on it and his face goes a little pale.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Your Highness. I will pass along the sentiments, if you will let me.”

There’s a burning satisfaction in your chest. Something about watching Ambassador Coates finally show not just you but Loki the respect he deserves makes you so happy.

“My Queen?” Loki prompts you, looking to you to wait for your reply.

“I think we can give him a chance to express our disappointment for us. He is our ambassador. Isn’t that right Ambassador Coates?”

Coates looks relieved, pressing his hand to his chest as he bows his head to you again.

It’s a strange sensation to see the gratitude on his face and his posture relaxes as a result. You literally just did that. You gave him some forgiveness and it really does make all the difference.

“I will support you and the Asgardian throne with more fervor from here on out, Your Majesty.”

“Cool,” you shrug, reaching to place your hand on the back of Thor’s neck, absolutely beaming at him.

He chuckles and puts his hand back on your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze and shake.

“Are you happy, my cherub?”

You nod, unable to contain the smile that stretches across your lips and you lean into him.

“Good. My job here is done then. Now, I have some things to do,” Thor rises and moves around until he’s facing you and pulls you up into a chaste but loving kiss.

With a caress to your belly, he looks at Loki and nods.

“I’ll leave the rest to you and my Queen, brother.”

“Sif will meet you by the docks,” Loki nods.

“Wonderful. I’ll see you later, love. If you need me, just tell Loki and I will come running.”

“‘Kay,” you smile.

Thor turns back to your guest and moves towards him, clapping his shoulder as he passes, “Do better, Ambassador Coates. Do better.”

All three of you watch Thor strut for the large front doors. The guard opens it for him and when he’s out of sight, the doors shutting behind him, you move to take your seat on the throne. Loki scoots a little closer to your side but stands with his tablet ready.

“Now, I think we should get down to the reason I wanted to meet with you,” you start and Ambassador Coates stands a little straighter. “But...I don’t know about you but this whole towering over you sitting on a throne thing is not really my style and feels a little forced. Let’s go to my sitting room.”

Loki smirks as Ambassador Coates relaxes a little more and even smiles, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

As the three of you walk up the steps to the right of the throne room to climb up to the small sitting room that had been set aside for you and your private entertaining, you steal a few glances at Ambassador Coates.

He still looks a little rattled and you stroke your stomach, the long silk dress you’re wearing, ruffled skirt and loose waist giving it a soft flowing quality is still noticeable and Ambassador Coates steals a few glances.

“Didn’t think I was really pregnant?”

He blanches, “What? N-No, Your Majesty! I had no reason to doubt you.”

“It’s okay. A lot of people didn’t believe it until I came back from my little vacation. I just wanted to make sure that it would take. We’re all so dependent on this little one and a lot is riding on my having Thor’s heir quickly.”

“No one who has seen you rule since your marriage would doubt your commitment to this union, Y/N,” Loki assures you gently.

He’s your number one supporter and you’re so damn grateful for him.

All three of you fall into silence but with your heavy belly and your slow walk, it stretches on.

“I’m sorry about Thor’s enthusiasm to put you in your place,” you give Coates a small apologetic smile but he quickly shakes his head. “He can be a little passionate.”

“No, Your Majesty, the mistake was mine. I should have paid you the respect you deserved. It’s-You work in an environment for too long and you begin to adopt certain behaviors that you should know aren’t acceptable but when everyone is doing it and-I was wrong. I can’t blame Thor for setting me straight.”

“Thank you, for understanding,” you shrug.

“Thank you for not holding it against me and letting me do better.”

It takes only another few minutes to reach the sitting room and you make a beeline for the small loveseat before dropping into it and leaning back against the soft plush cushions.

“Whew, I probably should have done my research on how pregnancy would affect all aspects of my life before agreeing to it,” a joke and Coates gets it because he looks respectfully amused.

Loki scoffs, “With Thor, I doubt you’d have had much choice in the matter. He is also believed to be a God of fertility, you know?”

“Loki!”

The small shock on your face really makes Coates laugh this time and your neck, ears, and cheeks burn.

Not wanting to drag this meeting out for a long time you clear your throat and Loki sits down on the armchair beside you opposite Coates’s own seat.

“I should really be more formal, but I’m not kidding when I tell you that this pregnancy is taking a toll on me.”

“Think nothing of it, Your Majesty,” Coates assures you.

“I’m not sure what you’ll be able to do with this information and maybe it’ll be best if, with your help, you can get a meeting in front of both the United Nations and NATO scheduled for me to speak to them directly.

“Thor and Loki would be there with me, of course, but it was my idea to even bring this to your attention.”

“I will be of any assistance that I can be,” Coates nods, face serious and attentive.

“We wanted to wait until we had more concrete information to give Earth’s leaders but our Queen is adamant that an early warning is better than detailed information,” Loki explains.

“Is the Earth in danger?” Coates asks, worried now.

“Sort of,” you nod. “Truth is, we don’t know. What we do know is that there’s an energy signature that we’ve been monitoring for months. Almost my entire first year of marriage. What we do know is that the energy signal was strong enough to bring Doctor Foster here to look for an explanation and my brother-in-law has kept his eye on it too. It’s familiar to him and not unthreatening so we’ve been preparing watch stations across the globe. We have one in North and South America, Australia, almost every continent so that we won’t miss any kind of danger that comes falling from the sky.

“We don’t want a repeat of New York,” you look at Loki and Coates looks at him too but neither of you have any kind of judgement in your expressions.

Maybe a little for Coates, but he quickly turns his gaze back on you.

“I wanted to give the people of Earth time to prepare for that kind of attack. The Avengers are already on the case and have been helping build up a defense but they can only do so much. Their focus is going to be on the bigger fight if it comes to that. I want to give us a fighting chance on the ground where regular people are often the ones to get hurt and suffer from big threats like this.

“I don’t want the casualties to look like they have in the past when something or someone threatens us. So, I just want to give world leaders a briefing on what we’ve found, what we’ve built in defense, and give them the resources to keep track of what we’re keeping track of.

“We’re at a unique advantage with not only Asgard’s knowledge, technology, and resources. We’re still a growing nation and what we do have is lots of strength. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and while the Valkyrie have to stay here to protect my family, we have a sizable guard that can be split into a few regiments to send out to the places that will need it most and still have enough forces to protect New Asgard.”

Coates is thinking hard, then his hand dives into his pocket and he pulls out his phone, “I’ll start making calls and can probably have something set up the day after tomorrow. If the threat is serious enough to make you worry about us humans this much, I think the sooner the better.”

“It is serious enough,” Loki assures him. “Even if it turns into nothing, we would all rather have done everything we could to minimize damage to both the humans of Earth and New Asgard.”

“Then I’ll get started. Is there any kind of data that I should see in order to convince my bosses?”

You look to Loki and reach out, placing your hand on his arm, “Loki, take Ambassador Coates down to the dungeon and let him get a look at anything we’ve gathered in the monitoring station. You’ll forgive me for not coming with you, Ambassador Coates? I really can’t stand walking around much longer today.”

“Of course, please do not mind me,” he assures you, giving you a small bow.

“Shall I have your lunch brought in here?” Loki asks.

“Please?”

He nods and with a gesture at Ambassador Coates, leads the way to the door.

“When you’ve made any significant progress, I will be in here. Can you come and let me know?”

Coates nods, the phone now pressed to his ear, “As soon as I know something, Your Majesty.”

They leave you in an appropriate rush and you relax against the cushions of your sofa feeling like a small burden’s been lifting off your shoulders.

You’ve done your part now. You’ve warned your Ambassador, now it’s his job to convince his higher-ups and hopefully they listen.

Estrid does eventually come with your lunch and you eat slowly, thinking through your options for Coates and the rest of the governments of the world. Splitting the Asgardian army up isn’t ideal, but they pack a punch. Even just a handful of soldiers in a city would make a difference.

You finish eating and you finish your tea. You get up to walk a little around the sitting room but as the afternoon wears on, you start to feel suffocated inside and Estrid happily goes with you down to your gardens.

Most of your plants have been well taken care of.

“His Majesty made sure that we kept all of your plants healthy for you,” Estrid informs you, moving to walk a few steps behind you as you walk around with a small watering can.

His consideration brings a smile to your lips.

Thor really can be so sweet. So loving. You hate that some of the time from your first year was stolen by what happened with Jane, but it couldn’t be helped. He had to discover what it would mean to lose you and you had to learn that depending on yourself is still just as important married as it was when you had no one.

Maybe it’s even more important now? You can get lost in your relationship with Thor and while that’s super tempting, to have your world start and end with Thor and your married life together, you are still your own person.

You have goals for your career and shared dreams with him too. You’ve got your hobbies and Thor has his. Both of you needed the distance.

Despite that, even though you know that the space was good for both of you, even if it hurt like hell to get it the way you two did, you’re actually really happy to be back home.

As you reach over to water one of your taller butterfly bushes, you gasp and pull your arm back against your body as a small sharp pain rocks your senses and blinds your vision for a split second.

“Your Majesty?” Estrid hurries forward.

“I’m fine, Estrid,” you assure her, waiting another second to see if the pain will come back.

Reaching down you rub the spot on your tummy where you’d felt it and wonder if maybe the baby is just kicking especially hard today.

“Shall I fetch the doctors?”

“No, really. I’m fine, Estrid.”

You move to the next plant and water a few more as you head towards the small greenhouse with the Asgardian plants you’re still trying to perfect the care for but as you reach for the door, you double over as a shooting pain stretches across the same side as before then moves down onto the base of your belly.

The watering can falls from your hand as you reach out to brace yourself against the door and hits the floor with a clunk as the water goes all over your flats, soaking your feet.

“Your Majesty!”

Estrid races to you, hands placed on your back and arm to support you as she looks to steal a glance at your face.

With your eyes shut tight, you groan and whimper as the pain just gets sharper.

“Estrid…” it takes a moment to catch your breath. “Get the doctors.”

“Guard!” Estrid calls, forcing you to let go of the door so that she can lead you to a bench. “Guard, send for the doctor!”

“Thor,” you whimper, sitting slowly and gasping as the pain intensifies. “Get Thor.”

“I’ll send for him, my Queen,” Estrid assures you and now that you’re seated, she leaves you to run and hurry the guard.

“What’s wrong?”

“Loki?” you call breathlessly, searching for his face for the comfort you know it’ll give you to have him close.

“Here,” he calls out for you and hurries around the corner. “I’m here. What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

He hovers over you, leaning over, his hands carefully pressed to your cheek and the other on your stomach.

“It hurts,” you sob without tears, “Loki…”

“It’s alright,” he promises. “You and my nephew will be fine. Come on, put your arm around my neck.”

His certainty does help and you get your arm around him. With ease he squats down and lifts you into his arms and with you moves back into the palace.

~~~~~~~~~~

It feels like a long time when you open your eyes again. You’re dizzy a little and weak. Your body feels heavy and it’s a struggle to sit up.

Looking around, you realize you’re in your bedroom alone. The sky outside is dark and the room is dim with only the fireplace lit to cast a warm orange glow around the dark room.

“Loki?” you try, remembering him carrying you when he found you in the garden.

No movement.

“Thor? Estrid?” You’d sent her to get the doctors and to get Thor. Had the doctors come?

Thor’s favorite armchair is placed by your bed, angled towards you so he must have been in here sitting by you waiting for you to wake up.

With a heavy sigh, you realize that he must have been out of his mind with worry when he heard what happened. Is the baby okay?

You put your hands on your tummy and wait for movement. He does wiggle around a little. Normal for you and him and that makes you feel better about the pain that had come out of nowhere.

It takes you too long to get up and out of bed. You’re in your nightgown, a long simple piece with modern touches but it’s also very similar to some of the long flowing white ones you remember seeing in history books.

Taking extra time to stretch up onto your feet just in case the pain comes back, you breathe a sigh of relief when you take your first step and find that you’re okay.

“Oh, baby,” you reach down and rub the sides of your bump. “You scared me, rascal.”

You know that you should probably stay still. Staying in bed is probably what your Doctors suggested but the empty chair has you worried about Thor and what state he might be in.

So instead of staying where you should, you open your bedroom door and step out into the hallway.

The spots to either side where there’s usually a guard are empty.

You look up towards the other end of the hall and see that the two soldiers have moved to stand at the center of the hall, shoulders tense and obviously distracted. Further down, at what you think they must be staring at is a grouping of palace staff. People you recognize. Estrid stands among them, frowning at the small crack in the door through which pours a line of bright white light from the sitting room you share with Thor.

Did something happen?

As you pass the two guards the jump and hurry back to the sides of your bedroom door where they belong. Their flurry of movement must have drawn the attention of the others standing by the door. They also seem to jump, look shamed and worried, before they move away from the door and head in all different directions to get back to work.

One of the maids that passes you curtsies before she scurries off stealing a look of regret at you.

Estrid stands rigid, hands clasped to her front before she steps back a bit to give you room.

“What is it, Estrid?”

She doesn’t say anything. She looks upset, her lips fixed into a severe line, eyes full of anger as she shakes her head.

“Where’s Loki? Thor?” you check, stopping by her and she only looks at the door.

You can hear muted voices from inside and your heart begins to pound.

Is it the doctors? Are Thor and Loki getting bad news? The baby was just moving though!

Your baby has to be okay. Healthy even. Nothing was wrong before you came back home.

Clinging to your bump, you move towards the crack in the door and with the breath leaving your lungs in fear of what you’ll overhear you just go ahead and push the door open because eavesdropping hasn’t served you well in the past.

If something needs to be said, you want to hear it without hiding.

Of course, what you aren’t expecting to find is Loki facing you by the long sofa where Thor usually lounges, resting his head on your lap. Behind Loki, what must have given him that frustrated look on his face is Thor, Jane clinging to his arm as she finishes speaking the thought you just interrupted as they all turn to look at you.

“-can’t help it. I love you. I-”

The absolute fury that engulfs you is indescribable.

For one year-long second, you inhale and a million thoughts cross your mind. The one you grasp onto, in favor of the ones involving murder and hurt and violence, is the one of your baby.

This kind of anger is bad for him. You can’t let it consume you. Not when you need to stay good for him.

Loki looks down at his feet, disappointment and shame overcoming his pale, handsome features.

Thor quickly jerks his hand out of Jane’s grip and moves towards you but stops when you speak only a few feet away.

“Jane?”

She swallows hard, then frowns, “I only came to warn Thor that the readings have gotten stronger. I-”

“I don’t care why you’re here. I only care that you are here. You aren’t welcome in my house, near my husband, or on any piece of land in this Kingdom,” you take a step towards them and stop as you stroke your belly to remind you to keep calm. “I want you gone. Out of my home, away from my people, and if you trespass here again, I’ll have you thrown in jail. You aren’t welcome in New Asgard.”

“You can’t ban me from an entire Kingdom,” she argues, moving forward towards you.

“Try me,” you warn. “Out of respect for what you meant to Thor in the past, I’ve kept your name clean. I haven’t told anyone what you tried to do here, but here you are trying again. Now either you want me to trash you, or you seriously can’t take a hint.

“We don’t want you here.”

“Thor invited me himself, if he didn’t want me here, why would he do that?”

You grind your teeth, again stroking your tummy, “You’re right. I don’t know why my husband would invite you here when I have made it very clear that you aren’t welcome. Whatever the reason, he and I will discuss it together, because we’re married. Husband and wife. Until the day I die, at least, since he’ll outlive me by two thousand years.

“And whatever you two had in the past is gone. So, get out or I’ll have you thrown out.”

She opens her mouth to argue and you take two steps towards her, “I might be pregnant, but I can still do plenty of damage in the minute that it’ll take Thor and Loki to pull me off of you. Please, say something. Please, please I beg you. Give me an excuse. I have a really bad temper and I am dying to express myself. Please.”

Jane turns towards Thor, waiting for some kind of rebuttal from him but he’s got his eyes trained on you and you alone. The shame on his face, the agony of what you finding them all here might mean is not lost on him.

When he doesn’t say anything, Loki clears his throat, “I think it’s time to go, Jane.”

His urging helps and with a look of hurt and disbelief, she tears her eyes off of Thor and stomps out past you.

You watch her go, Estrid scurrying after her to lead her out the back instead of the front where she might be spotted.

“Loki?”

He turns to you, waiting.

“I don’t want anyone to know she was here. Anyone other than the group of palace staff that was standing by the door fucking listening to what was being said in here. Can you get Heimdall and send her home that way?”

“I’m on it,” he assures you and hurries past you, disappearing into the palace.

“I-” Thor begins.

“Don’t!”

He shuts his mouth.

“Not here.”

Turning, you lead the way back to the bedroom and the guard opens the door for you, Thor following closely behind.

As the door shuts you don’t stop until you’re sitting on your bed, hands stroking your belly as you shut your eyes and try to calm yourself.

“I asked you for one thing. One thing, Thor. I asked you not to make a fool of me. Seven people from our staff were listening to you and Jane. Seven! By tomorrow that’ll be twenty and by the weekend the tabloids will have picked up on the story.”

“I’m sorry,” he starts but you growl in frustration.

“I stood in front of our people and told them that Jane Foster was not welcome in our Kingdom and you walked her right in! I-I can’t do this. I can’t do this right now.”

You get up and point at the large doors.

“I need you to get out. I need space and I don’t care why you let her in. I don’t care why you’d make me look like such a stupid fucking joke I only know that you did and I’m done. I need you out. Don’t come looking for me. When I’m ready, if I’m ever ready to talk to you again, I’ll find you. Until then, leave me alone.”

“Cherub-”

“NO! You don’t get to do this shit, Thor-You don’t get to undermine me and bring that woman back into our lives and still get to explain yourself after she lied to you about being pregnant, and making a mockery of our marriage. You don’t get a say. You get out of my room, you keep away from me, you wait until I’m ready to hear you. Until I’m not angry anymore. Until I’m not hurting anymore.

“I don’t understand what it is about this woman that you just-can’t you see what she is? What she’s done? Don’t you understand why she can’t be here? Don’t you get-You know what? Just get out. I don’t care. I don’t care if you get it or not. Get out.”

“Y/N, please, I-”

“GET OUT!”

The silence that follows your outburst is interrupted only by the crackling of the fire. In the dim light, Thor’s face is grave and broken. You can’t feel bad for him though.

As much as you love him, as much as you wish this hadn’t just happened, as much as you hate to see him hurt, you can’t ignore the pain in your own chest, drowning you again in betrayal.

This is why you’d wanted to keep your distance. This agony is why you’d wanted to keep him at arm’s length.

This is why you can only depend on yourself.

Eventually, Thor bows his head and with heavy feet, he leaves your room shutting the door behind him leaving you to sob and throw pillows in anger.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #thor x you #a wife for thor pt24

499 notes · View notes

ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

Note

Omg I have an angsty request that I’m sure is going to rip my heart out and light it on fire. It’s a super long and specific request so sorry if I get carried away:

Okay so reader had an unspoken thing in the glade with Gally but then he “died” so over the course of the events of scorch trials she got closer with newt and they start their own unspoken thing. But then in the death cure, newt (realizing he has the flare) starts encouraging her to reconcile with gally because he knows that he’s gonna die and gally will take care of her? But she’s confused on who she loves but kinda clings to what she has with newt because he needs her. And she’s just heart b r o k e n over newt dying but gally helps put her pieces back together in the safe haven and eventually they have their fluffy first time together?

Thanks!

*Fanfare* *Triumphant Music* I finally finished this one! Sorry it took a while, I really wanted this to be perfect. But I think I'm quite happy with how this one turned out! I hope you like it too, sweet Anon. Btw, I know you wanted smut, but I just didn't think it would fit with this one. Sorry, maybe on the next one!

Over 5.2k words, so strap in for a long one y'all

Possible Trigger Warning: Self Harm

~~~~~~~~~~

During your time in the Glade, you were practically attached at the hip with Gally.

He was your best friend, your first go to whenever you had any issues, and you were the same to him.

After his supposed death, you felt a void in your soul. You took on a nihilistic attitude, nothing in life making sense anymore. You didn't care about what happened to you or around you, you wished you had died with Gally, the idea of it being welcomed with open arms.

The thought of dying brought no anxiety, no dread. Even the thought of dying painfully didn't scare you, you wanted it. Everyday you thought about that spear going through Gally's chest, wanting to feel what he must've felt. You wanted to feel the same pain and fear, you wanted to feel like you were dying too.

No rational side of you could explain why you felt this way. Perhaps, if you felt the same pain he felt, maybe it would give some sort of closure. Maybe it would make you feel like you were still close to him, even in death.

It wasn't too long before you decided to act on those feelings. You had been only a knife to your chest, right where your heart was, hyping yourself up to push the blade into your skin.

You didn't want to kill yourself, no. You wanted your death to be natural, not forced. You'd suffer your own existence until your time eventually came like it did for everyone else. But Newt didn't know this when he happened upon you that night, just a couple centimeters of a blade shredding its way into your skin.

Newt panicked, immediately stopping your from hurting yourself, his heart racing at the thought of being too late. But thankfully, he wasn't.

You tried to seem somewhat normal, but the laughter bubbling from your chest couldn't be withheld, making Newt fear that you had lost your mind. He wasn't too far off...

He knew how much Gally's death impacted you, he knew you were in pain every second of every day, but he never thought you'd go so far as hurting yourself. He just silently patched you up, fearing anything he would say from a good place would only upset you further.

Eventually, you explained why you had done what you did. It obviously didn't sit right with Newt. He wasn't particularly close with Gally back in the Glade, but he knew well enough that he wouldn't want you to be living with this mindset.

After a while in the Scorch, you stuck by Newt the most and you started to get better. You felt so empty after Gally's death, leaving a hole in your heart. Newt helped lead you out of that void, trying his best to fit that empty space. But you knew nobody could replace Gally, not even Newt. You knew that space could never be filled, but just seeing Newt try to be that person for you, it was too endearing not to pull at what heartstrings you had left.

Then the complications happened, so much time spent believing that Gally was dead came crashing down as he stood in front of you all, very much not dead.

You thought it had to be a dream, could he really be here?

It was strange. You thought you'd run to him, leap into his arms and kiss all over his face, but you didn't. You stood next to your friends awkwardly as he took off his gas mask. To think you'd be more outwardly happy that someone you cared about was still alive. But you couldn't help the guilt that you felt when Gally said that they left him to die. Sure, it might've not been specifically directed to you, but you felt the sharp sting of his words resonate through you. It almost felt like a strong invisible force hit your funny bone, the volt of uncomfortable aching pain spreading throughout your entire body and leaving you in a breathless agony.

For Gally, he was overjoyed to see you alive and well. He so badly wanted to go to you, feel you in his arms again. But he knew he couldn't, how could he after how he treated everyone back in the Glade?

He didn't remember a lot, but he knew he killed Chuck. The blurry memories of that day, he saw it every night in his dreams. He remembered the sound of the gunshot, the sudden pain in his chest and not being able to breathe. He saw Chuck laying beside him, his expressionless eyes trained on the ceiling, unmoving. His chest wasn't rising and falling like it should've been, blood seeping through his layers of clothing. The most purest soul Gally ever met was dead, and it was his fault.

Gally couldn't even bring himself to look in your direction, he was too disgusted with himself.

Thomas punching Gally wasn't a big shock, he knew he deserved it. But Newt quickly came to his rescue, stopping Thomas from acting out irrationally. But a part of Gally didn't want the Greenie to be stopped. Being punched wasn't something he enjoyed, but Gally would willingly endure whatever punishment that would be inflicted and he'd accept that he deserved it. But nothing he could do or say would bring Chuck back...

When Gally did finally force himself to look at you, he wish he hadn't. You looked indifferent, which never happened with you. He instantly thought that you hated him as much as Thomas did, but then again, he deserved it.

It was really tough for Gally to keep a conversation with everyone while he took them to see Lawrence, especially when he noticed how close you stuck by Newt. But, he supposed it was only natural to find another person to be close to when you've lost someone else, he still couldn't help the feeling of jealousy that bubbled up in his chest. He hated how good you and Newt looked together, you seemed...happy.

At the moment, you weren't even close to happy; you were confused, and angry.

It sounded terrible, but a part of you was angry that Gally was actually still alive. You had to go through the mourning process, and you hadn't even finished it and now all of a sudden, he was alive all this time. It put your emotions on haywire, the most you felt was confusion, and if someone would've told you what you were experiencing was some sort of a twisted dream, you would believe them. But your feet were too sore and sunburn too irritating for this all to be a dream.

You sensed Newt's eyes trained on you, you knew he was probably worried, but you couldn't decide what for. Was he worried that you'd go back to Gally? Was he worried you'd replace him now that he was still alive? Knowing Newt, he probably just wanted to talk to you, but even then, you would have no idea what to say. What do people feel or say in situations like this? You were certain not everyone has to go through the loss of a loved one just to find out that they weren't gone, right?

It was late, and you were exhausted, as was everyone else; but you stayed awake, attempting to sleep only causing you to toss and turn, and eventually giving up. But someone else was awake, you were shocked to see that it was Newt. "What're doing awake?" He asked, taking a seat next to you.

"Could ask you the same thing." You replied, only getting a look from Newt in response. "Couldn't sleep." You sighed, caving in to his concerned expression.

"I know it's not my place," Newt started, wringing his hands together nervously, "but, you haven't said a word to Gally." You knew he was going to bring that up, you had that feeling as soon as he saw you were still awake. "I know it was a shock, to all of us. But I thought it'd effect you the most, to be quite honest. You two were pretty close..."

You shrugged weakly, shaking your head. "I don't know what to tell you. Was I supposed to react a certain way? Was I supposed to drop to my knees and burst into tears or something?"

Newt grimaced. "No...of course you're not supposed to act a certain way. It's just a bit strange to me that you haven't tried to speak to him at all."

"I don't even know what I'd say to him." You chuckled bitterly.

"I know you and Gally had something, something special. That sort of thing doesn't just go away. You were absolutely gutted after what happened, this is a chance to reconnect. You care about him, a lot."

"Hey, that doesn't change the way I feel about you. I care about you a lot too."

Newt smiled weakly. "I know, but I really think you should go and talk to him."

You could tell he was being sincere, but you couldn't understand why. You two had grown close over the past several months, so why would he want you to reconnect with someone you used to be even closer with? You weren't really given the time to think over it more before Newt was quickly encouraging you to speak with Gally, telling you where his room was, somehow knowing this conversation would happen and finding out beforehand.

Just a few moments later, you found yourself outside of Gally's door, fist extended out to hover over the worn wood, but you couldn't bring yourself to knock. Thinking back to how hard you tried to avoid Gally when he came back, what if he thought you hated him? What if he didn't want to talk to you?

But before you could chicken out, you forced yourself to knock on Gally's door without thinking, soon hearing the thud of footsteps nearing. With bated breath, you waited for the door to open, anxiety gripping your mind so intensely that it almost triggered your fight or flight response. But Gally's almost hopeful and shocked expression when he saw you waiting relaxed you a little bit. "...hi." Gally voiced, the nervous and confused tone to his voice not going unnoticed by you.

"Hi." You replied, your voice probably just as shaky and nervous as his.

"Uh, come in." He said quickly, moving out of the doorframe, his hands slightly shaking when he motioned you to enter his room.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, so fast and hard that you were worried Gally would be able to hear it. Your hands were shaking, as well as your legs as you walked into his room, it was a miracle you didn't collapse right then and there. You tried not to jump as you heard the click of his door closing, you tried to take deep calming breaths before Gally turned to face you, the two of you almost on complete opposite sides of the room just standing awkwardly.

You stared at Gally, your gaze running up and down his body but ultimately stopping to stare at his chest. Tears quickly came to your eyes as you saw how healthy he looked, like a spear wasn't embedded in his chest months ago. You couldn't stop the flow of whimpers that came from your throat, putting your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment. You felt your face start to burn as you felt Gally's arms wrap around you as soon as you started to cry, but his warmth comforting you only caused you to let out more tears.

You never thought you'd be in his arms again.

Gally stood there silently, holding you and just trying to soothe you as best he could. In the back of his mind, he was astonished that you even let him come near you, you had avoided him altogether up until this moment. But the whimpers he heard coming from you, seeing the tears spilling from your eyes, he instinctively went to hug you. He also couldn't ignore the guilt he felt, thinking that you were crying because of him. He hated it. But you hugged him back tightly, burying your face in his chest and trying to stifle your sobs.

"You're here..." You cried softly, "you're really here..."

Gally's lip trembled, tears of his own brimming his eyes at how much pain you must've been in thinking he was dead all this time, your voice giving away your feelings. He exhaled shakily, "I am here." He placed a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm here."

For a few minutes, you and Gally just held each other silently. You both needed this, understanding how badly you missed one another. Soon, you were able to calm yourself, but you still didn't pull away. Gally only pulled away slightly so he could see your face, frowning when he saw your eyes were puffy and tearstained. "I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. "What happened wasn't your fault, Gally." You said genuinely. No matter how much pain and anger you felt about what happened to Chuck, you never once blamed him. You knew W.C.K.D. killed him, and every other Glader who died. But Gally's frown told you everything you needed to know; he still blamed himself.

"I should've gone with you." He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. "How can you even stand the sight of me?"

"Because I know you never would've killed anyone if you weren't stung, especially Chuck."

Hearing Chuck's name out loud made tears brim Gally's eyes once more, tightening his fists in anger at himself. "Chuck deserved so much better...he wasn't supposed to die..." He cried, causing you to pull him back into your embrace, rubbing his back while trying to not to cry again.

"None of us deserved to get experimented on."

Eventually, you lead Gally to sit next to you on his bed, holding his hand. It felt so right to be sitting there with Gally, you missed him so much that you despised ever feeling even the slightest bit of anger when you first saw that Gally was alive. But one emotion did not go away, you still felt confused.

While sitting there with Gally, you couldn't help but think about Newt. He was so adamant about you reconciling with Gally, was he hoping that something would happen between you two? You truly cared a lot about Newt, and you knew he felt the same way, so you couldn't understand why he was acting this way.

You sighed softly when you started to feel sleepy, standing up slowly. "I should probably head back."

Gally quickly stood up with you. "Uh, you could stay here if you want?" He stammered, causing you to smile a little.

"That's okay. I already had a sleeping bag set up for me downstairs, so..."

Gally tried to hide his disappointed frown, choosing to walk up to you until you two were face to face. Maybe it was too soon, but ever since he saw you, Gally had the strongest urge to place his lips on yours. He missed your soft lips that he only had the privilege of feeling a few times back in the Glade before everything happened. He gently grabbed hold of your jaw, tilting your face up and leaning forward slowly.

You wanted him, you wanted him so bad. But before his lips could connect, Newt's face popped up in your mind and you couldn't, you forced yourself to turn away.

You tried not to look at Gally's face, knowing that he'd probably look like a kicked puppy. You couldn't, it would be too painful. "It's Newt." Gally frowned, taking a step back.

Your eyes widened, finally taking a glance over to him to indeed see that his expression was one of disappointment and sadness. "I never said-"

"You didn't have to." Gally interrupted. "I see the way you look at him...it's how you used to look at me." You stayed silent, a feeling of guilt washing over you. "I don't blame you, Y/n, for finding someone else. I'd never expect you to grieve over me forever, that's too selfish."

Hearing this, you had a terrifying thought that you needed to voice out loud. "Did you ever find someone else?" You asked nervously, afraid of his answer.

"No..." He smiled weakly, "No one that could ever compare to you."

You hated that you felt relieved, you were the one who seemed to be selfish. But, you couldn't just drop what you had with Newt now that Gally's still alive. You couldn't say anything else, what could you say to that?

"You should get some sleep." Gally said, opening his door and motioning you to get out.

"Gally..." You whispered.

"Please. Just...we have a busy day tomorrow."

You sighed. You couldn't argue with him.

Newt watched you walk back downstairs, getting into your sleeping bag with a very prominent frown. Doesn't seem like it went well, he thought. He felt relieved and frustrated at the same time. Newt really cared for you, he could even go as far as saying he loved you, but he needed you and Gally to get back together, or become friends again at least.

It wasn't too long ago that Newt found out he had the Flare. He saw the black and purple veins slowly travelling up his arm, and the pain, the pain was the worst part. You had already gotten close to him, so he was heartbroken to know that you'd just lose another person you cared for. After Gally, he knew you wouldn't be able to handle another loss. So when Gally showed up out of the blue, it was like a miracle, Newt's prayers had been answered.

Newt felt jealousy, of course, he wanted to stay with you. He didn't want Gally to take you from him, but what use would he be when he was dead or a Crank? He tried not to be angry with you, it wasn't your fault how you were feeling, but he needed to know you'd be okay when he was gone.

Newt did try talking to you about it, but you always changed the subject or simply didn't answer him. Before you all knew it, it was time to start planning Minho's rescue mission. Thomas didn't want to use Teresa, and hearing that only made Newt's anger bubble to the surface.

It wasn't like Newt to lash out like that, he was always so calm and relaxed. Maybe the stress finally got to him, maybe it was something else...

You immediately followed after Newt when he stormed out after yelling at Thomas, not knowing that Gally's sad eyes were following you. You couldn't think of anything else, you just had to know that Newt was okay.

You found Newt on the roof, sitting on the ledge. "Newt?" You asked, concerned. "Are you okay...?" You stepped closer captiously, finally taking a seat next to him.

Newt only smiled bitterly. "No...no, not really."

You sighed, looking out to the horizon, trying to find the right words to say. "We all thought Teresa was our friend...it's okay to be angry."

Newt shook his head. "It's not that."

You furrowed your brows. "Then, why did you lash out at Thomas?"

Newt bit his lip to keep it from trembling. He never wanted you to find out this way. He didn't even want you to know. But after that scene he made, he knew there was no point in hiding it anymore.

Tears came to your eyes as Newt lifted up his jacket sleeve, revealing his discolored arm. You knew what it was immediately, seeing it on every Crank you came across. "No..." You whispered. "No."

"I know I probably shouldn't have kept it from you, but I was scared. I still am."

"We'll fix it!" You quickly said, it sounding more like a plead. "We'll find another cure!"

Newt only gave you a weak smile. "I don't think that's a possibility right now, love. Besides, Minho needs us."

"No, you're not allowed to give up like that, Newt. We'll find something to help you. If Brenda was cured, so can you. Teresa might-"

"Please, Y/n." Newt voiced sharply. "Please...just stop. I don't need false hope."

Before you could say anything else, you heard the roof access door open, Thomas walking up to the two of you. "Y/n, can I, uh, talk to Newt? Alone?"

You looked to Newt, who nodded, signaling for you to leave. You stood up, speed walking inside and down the stairs. The tears kept falling, blurring your vision, and you had no idea what to do. Newt was dying, and there was nothing that you could do about it, and it didn't seem like he was too eager to try and find a cure. You hoped Thomas could talk some sense into him. But in that moment, your feet subconsciously took you to Gally's little apartment. You stood in front of the door in tears, wishing that you didn't feel the urge to find comfort in him when Newt was sick. But, you knocked on the door, quickly placing yourself in Gally's arms as soon as he was in front of you.

Gally didn't know what was wrong, he barely got a good look at your face before you threw yourself at him. But the way you were shaking and whimpering, he knew you were crying, and he didn't have the heart to pull away from you. He walked backwards and shut his door, leading you to sit down on his bed with him. He just held you as you cried, leaning his head down on top of yours until you calmed down. He finally spoke when your cries were just quiet sniffles. "What happened?"

You exhaled a shaky breath, lifting your head to look at Gally. "Newt has the Flare..."

"W-What...?" Had Gally heard that right? Could his mind be playing tricks on him? He just assumed everyone that was in the Glade was immune, that's why they were there, right? But you repeated what you had said, confirming what Gally thought he heard. "I...I'm so sorry..." That's all Gally could say. He wasn't very well spoken in these types of situations, all he could do was bring you back into another hug.

You finally understood why Newt was pushing you to get close to Gally again; he wanted you to be close to someone when he died.

Yet another situation that had you confused. You knew you loved Gally, you always had, he was your best friend. But now you had Newt, he helped you through everything while in the Scorch, helped you try to overcome your grieve and probably saved your life multiple times. How could you possibly make a decision like this?

You and Gally never put a label on what you had in the Glade, and nobody asked either, not even Alby. You both just knew that you cared for one another, that you'd do anything for the other. But as time went on, you felt guilty knowing what you'd ultimately choose. It was always going to be a lose lose for you.

Newt needed you, and you couldn't leave him when he needed you the most.

Gally, deep down, knew what your decision was going to be. You had a big heart. You never would leave anyone behind, even if they were infected. Back in the Glade, Gally wouldn't have hesitated in sacrificing the few to save the many, but you were never like that. You cared about everyone, especially the people who were closest to you. You never were going to give up on Newt, you couldn't now. You would spend as much time with him as possible, what little time he might've had left. And you did, until he took his final breath.

You felt like you were a glass vase that had been shattered, and every time you tried to pick up the pieces, the glass would just cut deeper and deeper into your skin. It felt like life didn't want you to be put back together. Nothing felt real. Everything that happened in the Last City felt like a fever dream. You hoped that one day you'd wake up and you'd be back in the Glade, everyone was still alive. Maybe if you could go back in time, maybe you could save everyone, maybe you could've convinced Gally to listen to Thomas, maybe you could've held off Newt a bit longer in time for Brenda to give him the cure.

A lot of maybe's, a lot of hopes and prayers, never answered.

Now in the Safe Haven, you felt anything but safe.

You didn't talk to anyone for awhile, not even Gally. You had nothing to say, and you were afraid of breaking down in front of everyone. So, you isolated yourself. And then a couple weeks later, you finally felt everything bubble to the surface.

Sitting down somewhere along the coastline, not too close to the water, but close enough that you could feel the salty breeze of the waves hit you gently as the evening cooled when the sun started to go set.

You tucked yourself up into a ball, your knees as close as you could get them to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them. And, you cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. The ugly kind of crying. Your tears weren't coming out one eye at a time in a perfectly straight line down your face like in the movies, you weren't making quiet sniffles or whimpers, you were full on sobbing. Tears came out of your eyes so fast that you could barely make out the sun on the horizon, your shirt sleeves were most definitely covered in snot and whatever salty tears it had the chance to catch. Your throat felt like it was being torn apart by how intense your sobs were. The sobs sounded more like you were having a coughing fit, one of those phlegmy hacking coughs that made you feel like you were going to vomit.

You knew you most likely weren't far enough away from the camp to quiet your weeping, and you knew you were just embarrassing yourself, arranging for yourself to be completely humiliated the next morning when you had to face everybody. But in the moment, you couldn't care less. You loss someone so important to you, it felt like losing Gally all over again. But you knew this time, it was final. No surprise resurrections this time. You felt completely, and utterly, alone.

But you never were.

You felt so dissociated and detached from yourself, the wails of grief too much for your body to handle. You couldn't feel anything around you, not the warmth of the sand, not the slight chill breeze, not even Gally's arms wrapped around you tightly. You didn't realize until you passed out from exhaustion, waking up the next morning in a bed that wasn't yours, and a hut that wasn't yours.

Your vision was still a little bit blurry, all the tears from the night previous crusting to the creases around your eyes, making it a bit of a challenge opening them all the way. But, your other sense were intact enough to tell you that bacon and eggs were next to you on a bedside table. You hadn't eaten the day before, so it was mostly a primal reaction to quickly take the plate and gobble up the food.

You still had to rely on context clues to figure out where you were in the camp. As much as your eyes irritated you, they could now finally work once you were wide awake. You probably should've known immediately who's hut it was, but seeing that familiar grey knitted hoodie settled ungracefully over the backrest of a chair, you knew it was Gally's.

You blushed quickly after that realization. How did he know where you were, and how much did he see? The thought of him seeing you in such a state made you cringe. But what was more horrifying was that Gally was right outside the room, waiting for you to wake up. "Hey..." He voiced, his eyebrows knitted in concern, eyes full of sadness.

You had to look away, the heat rushing to your face making you feel like you were going to pass out again. "Hi." You croaked, your vocal cords still sore and raw.

Gally shifted his weight nervously, taking a step closer to you. "I'm sorry, for bringing you here...I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself." You snapped you gaze back to him in confusion, him quickly blushing, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, Newt told me about what you did to yourself after...after the Maze."

You self-consciously rubbed the spot on your chest where a big scar still remained. "I wasn't trying to...you know, kill myself or anything."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." He said softly, taking a seat on the bed next to you.

You sighed, crossing your arms. "I just...I didn't know what I was thinking."

Gally gently grabbed ahold of your hand, making you uncross your arms, letting his warm hand take yours. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. Newt should be here with the rest of us. He was a good person."

You nodded as tears came to your eyes again, burning enough to make you whimper, and you leaned your head against Gally's shoulder. "I miss him so much." You cried.

Eventually, you and Gally became close again. He was always there for you. Whenever you had nightmares, whenever you were lonely, whenever you needed anything, Gally would always be there. You started to feel your relationship had almost gotten back to the point where it was in the Glade, it had been almost a year, but you still felt it was too early to be moving on. A part of you didn't want to move on, but you knew that's not what Newt wanted either.

You didn't read the note Newt wrote to you when Thomas first gave it to you. The grief was still too near, and you didn't know if you could handle it. But a couple months after your breakdown, you finally read it. Newt loved you, he had always loved you. And he wanted you to be happy, he didn't want you to be sad that he was gone, even though he knew it would be impossible. But he knew you would be okay, he knew Gally would protect you no matter what. Reading his note was part of the reason you knew it would be okay to be with Gally, it just took you some time.

One day, you and Gally were taking a break from working, just sitting near the forest tree line, and you did it; you kissed him, and you couldn't stop, you didn't want to stop. And you didn't, and neither did Gally.

After that, it was almost impossible to spend any time away from each other.

You never thought you'd smile again, but Gally always found a way. He made you so happy, and it made you cry one night when you finally realized that you were happy, and you knew somewhere out there, it made Newt happy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Cries in Español

#the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #newt x reader #newt imagine #tmr newt #tmr gally #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally

245 notes · View notes

sunshineseung · 3 years

Text

You Tried // Minho

🍄 | genre: smut ☁️ | pairing: Lee Minho x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 1.9k 🌸 | includes: hard dom!minho, sub!fake dom!reader, consensual sleep play, mentions of safe word (color system), restraints via handcuffs, slight dd/lg because “daddy”, slight pet play because “kitten”, teasing, grinding, degradation, strong!minho lol, angry sex, dumbification, brat taming, unprotected PIV, spanking, doggy style, choking, possessive!minho, lots of dirty talk omg minho is loud, creampie, aftercare, affirmations :), cuddly ending

☀️ | synopsis: When you tie down Minho while he was sleeping, he’s absolutely furious, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You’re the one in control now... right?

Minho yawns loudly, stretching his arms out to find that they’re already stretched to the frame of the bed. He pries his eyes open, unable to fully comprehend why he can’t move his limbs. There’s a cold metal sensation on his wrists, and that’s when it clicks. Looking down, he sees you resting your head on his thighs, staring up at him with eyes glowing with innocence.

“Did you do this, little one?” Minho sounds calm despite his rage slowly boiling in him. You know he always wants to be in charge, his body controlling you, but ever since you had the okay to play with him in his sleep and vice versa, you’ve been wanting to test him a little. “Did you cuff me up while I was sleeping?”

“Maybe…” your voice was as sweet as sugar despite your intentions, “but I just want to play with you, daddy. Is that okay?”

“We can play when my wrists aren’t stuck to the bed, kitten.” He struggles against the restraints. “Until then, you better not try anything with me.”

“Try anything? You mean like this?” You run your hand over the bulge in his underwear, effectively making him semi-hard easier than expected. You continue to run your hand over his length as he hisses and curses under his breath. “Color?”

Minho takes a deep breath in, mentally weighing his options. Either stop now and rail you or see where this goes. As much as he wants to be unchained, he also wants to see just how far you’re willing to take this. “Green.”

“I knew you’d like this!” Your smile was so damn cute, Minho couldn’t help but giggle. You were so eager, beginning to restart your hand motions on his cock. He grunts from his chest as you expertly work his length from over his boxers. “Can I take your cock out?”

“Yeah, suck me off, kitten.” Minho bit his lip while watching you pull his underwear down his legs, revealing his hardened cock. You salivate at the sight of his hot, red tip. It was practically begging to be in your mouth. “It’s rude to stare.”

“But your cock is so pretty, daddy.” You whine as you take his cock into your hand, stroking him slowly to get him as worked up as possible. Your mouth hovers an inch from his member, your breath blowing down onto him. You look so enamored by his cock despite it being inside you countless times.

You kiss his cock before running your tongue along the shaft from his balls to the tip. Keeping eye contact with Minho, you take him into your mouth, taking him about halfway down your throat before gagging and pulling back.

“Aw, I know my kitty can take me all the way.” Minho raises his hips as you suck on the head of his cock, precum dripping onto your tongue. You lower your head back down his dick, and you finally take him fully down your throat. His tip hits the back of your throat as you hold the position for a few seconds, pulling back up to get air. The amount of drool coating his cock was absurd, but seeing his dick glistening with your spit was truly a godly view. “Alright, princess, untie me. It’s your turn.”

“What if I don’t?” You raise your head away from his hips, your hand still stroking his cock. He raises an eyebrow at your disobedience, anger filling his brain again. “I don’t want to uncuff you. You’re my toy today, got it?”

“Don’t play with me. Get these fucking cuffs off my wrists right now.” You shug, speeding up your pace on his cock. Minho twitches in your hand, biting harshly on his lip as he threatens to lose it. “Little girl…”

“Make me.” You smile, taking your hand off his cock so you can take off your underwear set, finally getting fully naked to show off to Minho what he’s missing. You spread your legs over him, leaning back and giving him a full view of your pussy. “Maybe I just want to watch my daddy suffer.”

“This is your last chance. Uncuff me or else, you fucking brat,” Minho growls through gritted teeth. He was really trying his best to keep his cool despite the rage bubbling inside him.

“Or else what? You’ll punish me?” You laugh, moving yourself to straddle him. His cock lays hard against his body while you grind against him, dragging your folds along his length. “I’m not scared of you, Minho.”

“Let these restraints off of me, bitch!” Minho’s voice is deep and serious, his eyebrows furrowed in anger. His arms would be swinging violently if they weren’t held back by handcuffs. You look down at his spasming body and laugh, pressing yourself down even more onto his cock. “You’re so in trouble!”

“Aw, but daddy, you’re not saying the safe word, are you?” Your voice is calm and high-pitched, talking down to him as if you’ve ever been in charge. “Judging by how hard you are, I think you like being tied down by your little girl.”

Minho has had it. Officially. He pulls the cuffs from the bed frame, unable to get proper leverage to get freed. You raise your hips over him, raising his dick with your hand to line him up with your sopping entrance. While he struggles, you lower yourself down onto him, gently riding his cock at a pace of your liking.

“You’re so hard inside me. You must really like this.” You tease Minho, one hand playing with your clit and the other going to his chest to flick his nipples. His groans grow louder as your cunt tightens around him. “You’re such a good daddy for your little kitten.”

“G-gonna cum inside you, fill you with my cum.” Minho throws his head back, moaning curse words loud enough for anyone in neighboring rooms to hear. You speed up the pace, the stimulation from your cunt and your clit quickly becoming overwhelming.

You remove your hand from your clit to play with both of Minho’s nipples, something he never will admit that he likes. He starts twitching inside you, his wrists pulling against the handcuffs harder than ever. He feels his orgasm right on the edge until you stop.

You just stop. Instead of lowering back onto him, you pull yourself off of his cock and lay back, resting on your elbows as you wait for him to react. He bucks his hips in the air at nothing, cock still twitching. Sweat runs down his forehead as he whines from his ruined orgasm.

“Oh, I’m gonna ruin you.” He pulls one last time against the cuffs, one chain breaking and the other cuff swinging open on the side connected to the bed frame. You gasp in fear, scared he’ll be too angry to even look at you. “You’re in for it now, kitten.”

He pounces onto you, pinning you down to the bed so your feet are on the pillows. You know you can’t fight him off at this point. He turns you around so your face is pressed against the bed, but he ruthlessly grabs your hair and pulls your head to the side, forcing you to look back at him. His expression can only be described as lustful anger, the darkness in his eyes combining with the snarl on his face to create a terrifying sight.

And yet, despite the horrific situation, you’re absolutely dripping.

“If you want to act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.” He spanks your ass with his bare hand, creating a handprint on your skin. The mewls coming from your mouth are absolutely pathetic, and Minho is living for it. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you dumb.”

With your body flat against the bed, he pushes into your pussy, stretching you out in a matter of seconds. His thrusts are merciless, pounding into you from behind while his hands grip your hips. Drool drips from your mouth to the bed with every motion of his, and you can’t moan anything other than a hoarse “daddy~”

An arm swings around your waist, pulling you up against Minho’s chest. While his arm holds you up, his other hand comes around your neck, the pads of his fingers pressing into the sides of your neck. You feel lightheaded from all the pressure, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Color, baby?” Minho grunts into your ear, clearly nearing his climax in no time again. “Cmon, baby. How are you feeling?”

“G-green, daddy. So green.” Your tongue hangs out of your mouth as you moan exactly what Minho wanted to hear. “Feel g-good.”

“Yeah, that’s my good girl.” He chokes you harder, his thrusts becoming deeper and faster. You start to tighten around him as his cock rams into your g-spot with ease. As your vision begins to blur, all you can think about is Lee Minho. “Cum on my cock, kitten. Cum for daddy.”

For the first time this morning, you listen to his orders. The walls of your cunt spasm around his cock, locking him in with your wetness as you coat his dick in the juices from your orgasm. He groans against your neck, sucking a quick hickey on the side where his hand isn’t covering.

Coming down from your high, his thrusts start to get sloppy. The familiar twitching feeling of his cock shoots through you, the overstimulation taking hold of your aching pussy. Your whines go from pleasureful to painful, his cock tearing your pussy apart.

“Now I’m gonna fill you with my cum and you’re not gonna stop me, alright?” He spanks your ass again with the arm that was holding you up, your body falling limp onto the bed with your ass still in the air. As your body falls, his hand around your neck jumps to your hips. He pulls you closer to him by your lips, his cock hitting deeper inside you than before. “Your body is mine, princess.”

“My body is yours, daddy!” He lets out a string of curses and pet names as he shoots his load into you, filling you with his hot cum just like he said he would. You’re too braindead to feel anything other than fullness. His twitching cock holds still against your walls, fully bottomed out as he releases. Minho spanks you one more time before pulling out of you, watching his cum drip out of you before he pushes it back in with his finger, two of his digits thrusting shallowly inside you.

Minho catches his breath and falls back against the pillows. He pulls on your leg in an attempt to get you to get up and go cuddle with him, which you obviously do. His arms wrap around you as he kisses your forehead, holding you as close to him as possible. Your cheeks heat up as you feel his cum continue to drip out of you.

“I’m not actually mad at you, sweetheart. Please remember that.” His kisses continue from your forehead to your nose to your cheeks. “You did so well for me. You always take me so well.”

“Thank you, daddy.” You lift your head up to kiss his lips for the first time that morning. “Can we shower now?”

“You go in before me. I’ll join you in a minute.” You raise your body off of him before realizing that your legs are still jelly. Falling back onto his chest, you both laugh, his arms wrapping around you again. “Alright, I guess not.”

“That just gives us more time to cuddle, right?”

“Of course, baby. More time to cuddle.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #lee minho smut #minho smut #lee know smut

591 notes · View notes

atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Illuminated, pt.2

Summary: Seeing an old friend isn’t always a happy occasion, but it can direct you to someone who undoubtedly makes your heart beat faster.

Warnings: talk of war and death, book spoilers

Part 1

=================================

It felt strange to be walking the same halls she once revered. Y/N had barely grown at all since her time at Little Palace, if anything she'd claim she got shorter, but the walls didn't seem as intimidating as they used to.

Back then, she was just a clueless girl with dreams that turned into nightmares. The war had left deep wounds everywhere in Ravka and for that, Y/N would curse Alina Starkov's name until her dying breath.

Ravka trusted Alina to rescue them from the darkness, but she only expanded it. She fled from her responsibility and responded with force when General Kirigan asked for accountability.

Y/N was considered too young to be allowed in battle, sent away by the Darkling with children who have not yet mastered their particular branch of small science. Grisha a year older than her were given the chance to protect Ravka, something she wished she could have done.

If it were up to her, she'd have stood by him instead of hiding.

Y/N had always been quite capable of controlling her power. Whether it be fire, wind or water, she held a firm grasp over all three elements with an iron fist and a terrifyingly sharp mind. She had developed attacks no one else is capable of, the kind that made other Grisha wary of her ferocity.

Naturally, she assumed that was why General Kirigan had called on her. The last thing she expected was to have the General, her King, admire the abominable blue flames she wields.

"Y/N?" A breathless reminder of a voice she once knew had stopped her in her tracks.

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N's lips break into a wide smile at the sight of her old friend and confidant.

She didn't waste time, running toward the girl who had fiery hair Y/N always wanted to have too. Colliding with Genya, Y/N couldn't stop a laugh that escaped her as she wrapped her arms around her much taller friend.

“I. Can’t. Breathe!” Genya manages to say between shallow, strained breaths.

Chuckling, Y/N releases her from the death grip she calls a hug. She’s never been subtle in showing affection, or hate.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” Y/N exclaims, her attempt to quiet down failing before she even tries.

With a surprised smile set on her lips, Genya nods. “I didn’t realize you’d be at Little Palace.”

Faltering, Y/N licks her lips as her smile is erased. “You don’t seem too happy about that.”

“Little Palace isn’t exactly the safest place in Ravka anymore”, Genya musses.

Scoffing, Y/N furrows her eyebrows. “Alina made it unsafe.” Lifting her chin, Y/N continues, “The Darkling will protect us.”

Pursing her lips, Genya looks around carefully to ensure they’re alone. “That’s the problem. While he’s here, no one is safe.” Taking Y/N by the elbow, she pulls her aside toward the open window to help disguise their voices from any curious listeners. “Alina was our only hope of killing him.”

Ripping her arm away from Genya’s hold, Y/N narrows her eyes at the friend she once trusted more than anyone else in this world. When there was no hope, Genya put a smile on her face. Even when Y/N was losing herself, she had Genya to remind her of who she is.

She never doubted her friend, never questioned her loyalty or sanity. Until now.

“Genya, who did you fight alongside with?” Y/N asks sharply, her lips forming a thin line.

“You don’t know the entire story”, Genya tries but Y/N steps away as if she’d been burned.

The war had made warriors from children for no matter how they tried to protect their innocence, war leaves no one untouched. When Alina Starkov decided to turn her back on Grisha, Y/N and many others have been forced to grow up far too quickly. No silly crushes or petty arguments mattered for the blood had reached them once Alina slaughtered Botkin in front of them. It was the only taste of war Y/N had for she had killed for the first time on that day.

Alina is the reason she has blood on her hands.

“The story I do know is enough for me”, Y/N huffs as she shakes her head at Genya. “The fact our General did not kill you is proof of his generosity. Perhaps you should learn to appreciate him. Your precious Alina never showed such mercy.”

Turning her back on Genya, Y/N headed back. She didn’t want to explore the old corridors anymore, but to bathe and sleep. From tomorrow on, she’ll be working with Kirigan on her new ability and she didn’t want to display any reasons for him to distrust her.

She pauses as Genya speaks up.

“I wonder what will get you killed faster – your loyalty or stubbornness?”

Turning her head to the left, Y/N could see her old friend in her peripheral vision. “At least I’ll die for something I believe in. I’ll die for Ravka. Can you say the same?”

Fuming, Y/N tossed and turned in her bed. She turned the pillow to the colder side, she even tried turning her head on the opposite side of the headboard, but nothing could calm her mind or the itching to use her powers to blow off some steam.

The one part of herself she truly did connect with the Inferni was the temper she often got in trouble for. When Nina Zenik called her stupid, she burned off her eyebrows and Botkin forced her to wake up at the crack of dawn and do sprints for the next month as punishment. It’s probably the only time in her life she was truly in good form.

Grunting, she raised her legs and slammed them back on the mattress in frustration. Tossing the blanket off, she grabbed her blue kefta and left the room.

Her footsteps echo the halls as she all but runs out, straight into the foggy morning air outside. The cold pinches her skin, her lips trembling for a moment before she sinks her front teeth into her bottom lip. Her breaths come in visible puffs of air as she wraps her arms around her middle while securing her hands under her armpits to stop herself from using her power that’s calling to her like the siren song calls sailors to their certain death.

Y/N always had the misfortune of wearing her heart on her sleeve with those she cares for. She also has a nasty tendency to either feel nothing or everything at once and when someone she loves turns out to be different than what she believed, it causes an uncontrollable explosion of emotion deep within.

“Is there a particular reason you’re outside at this ungodly hour?” A deep voice makes her gasp as she turns to look at the very person she most admires.

Raising her eyebrows, she nearly laughed as she realized the Darkling wore not his kefta, but the clothes he sleeps in. It’s loose clothing, black as his kefta and horse and yet it gives off a softness she did not realize a man as powerful as him could ever possess.

“I’d ask you the same, General”, she retorts with her eyebrows still raised as if she’s challenging him to come closer and make her stop ogling him.

For a moment, she thought he might turn away and leave as he stood there calmly. It feels as if he’s studying her, taking in every inch of her and committing it to memory. If it were any other man, Y/N would have spoken up or acted out to prevent the uncomfortable feeling of being watched so intimately, yet she didn’t want Kirigan to ever stop looking at her. If not for her fear of being too forward, she’d invite him closer.

As if he read her mind, Kirigan takes a step closer….and then another one. She can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.

What does he see when he looks at her?

How does she look in his eyes, because the way he’s looking at her now is taking her breath away?

He looks at her as if there is something worth looking at.

“Sometimes my mind turns on me”, he admits in a low, quiet tone that Y/N has to strain to hear him properly. “I’ve lived a long life and a longer one awaits me. My mind is full of ghosts that want retribution for what I did to them.”

Swallowing thickly, she straightens her back as she comes closer – close enough to feel his breath as it fans the hair at the top of her head.

“What did you do to them?”

The left corner of his lips twitches. “You’d think ill of me if I told you.”

Averting her gaze to his bare chest revealed by the wind as it pulled the fabric of his shirt, Y/N licks her lips. She argues with herself on her next move, wondering if it would be improper to touch the man who had been considered untouchable by everyone she ever met. Her fingers years to feel his skin under their tips, to slowly trail the jawline she wants to press her lips against.

Frowning softly, she bites her lower lip as she locks her eyes on his dark ones. Unlike many before her, she does not crumble under the weight of his heavy gaze. Her heart trembles as she reaches out and places her palm on his chest.

He didn’t expect her to touch him, tensing up. It’s surprising how warm her hand is, more so how inviting the warmth is. He’s hyper-aware of every breath he takes as his chest expands under her touch, hoping this incredibly brazen Grisha does not feel the way his heart jumps with the sudden surge of her bravery.

When he notices her lips move, he holds his breath as if the simple act of breathing could muffle her voice and make it harder for him to soak up the blind loyalty and love she holds for him.

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things. You’re not evil for choosing to protect yourself and your country. I could never think badly of you, General.”

It’s been a long time since he found someone so incredibly devoted to him and his cause, exhilarating him to the core. Alina had never truly believed in him for she always considered him wicked, but Y/N couldn’t be more different. Perhaps he’s right and this time it will work.

With someone trusting as Y/N is, he can’t possibly fail again.

Letting her hand fall, Y/N looks away as she realizes she crossed the line and his silence is the easiest way for him to inform her of it. Truth be told, she wondered who was the last woman who got to lay her hand on his chest.

Was it Alina?

There were rumors of the relationship Kirigan and Alina supposedly had and Y/N always felt a pang of jealousy upon hearing the girls talk. She never knew him, she never truly had him and she never will, but the idea someone else does brought her pain.

Perhaps her overthinking or the increasingly awkward silence prompted her temper to speak instead of her brain.

"Did you love her?" Y/N blurts out.

Her eyes widen as she realizes her thoughts have become vocal and in the presence of the very man she should be watching her mouth around.

"I apologize. It must be a difficult time to reminisce about." Maybe Nina was right – she is stupid!

"It is quite alright.” Darkling lets out an audibly heavy breath. “I did not love her, I trusted her. I trusted her enough to put all my hope for a better Ravka on her shoulders and she betrayed our country."

"No", she reaches out slowly, her hand finding its way to his as it gingerly grasps his fingers. "She betrayed you."

Smiling reluctantly, Kirigan finds himself wondering if he should embrace the fact Y/N seems to be a very touchy person or if he should set some boundaries. Despite the shiver that runs down his spine, he allows her hand to fully take his as he closes his fingers around hers.

"I should have seen it coming. I'm far too used to betrayal."

"I'd never do that", she pauses. "I'd never betray you. I'd never break your trust."

Her responses are quick, so innocent and naïve that he can’t help but feel guilty about every moment he spends near her. No one should send a doe eyed beauty into the clutches of a beast so easily, yet he has no desire to force her to leave.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Smiling, her entire face lights up. It’s a true delight to witness so early in the morning after a long night of nightmares he faced.

“Do not worry, General. I have every intention on proving myself to you.”

Glancing at their hands, her smile widens. She spent years wishing for this and now that it’s happening she can’t seem to believe it’s real.

“The sun will come up soon”, he changes the topic.

Y/N fears he might leave and her hand would be back at her side as she watches his retreating figure, but when he speaks again her heart dances in her chest.

“Would you like to watch the sunrise with me?”

Inhaling sharply, she nods. “Very much so.”

Unfortunately for them, someone else couldn’t sleep that night and they had seen just enough for a terrible plan to be born.

=================================

A/N - So, I’m definitely going to play with the books here and twist some things to fit the storyline I have in mind. There might be some spoilers, so read with caution. I debated on making more than a one shot for this and taking on some ideas I have for Darkling but also Nikolai, so I’m not sure how long this will be just yet.

Tags: @deceivedeer�� @evyiione @measshaw

Part 3

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #aleksander kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander kirigan #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #shadown and bone

196 notes · View notes

fific7 · 3 years

Text

Ticket to Ride - Part 1

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance. Billy gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕀'𝕞 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕕, 𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕥𝕠𝕕𝕒𝕪, 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕪

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were grabbing armfuls of clothes out of the wardrobe and dumping them into the three massive suitcases you’d laid open on the floor. If any of your friends had seen you at that point, they’d have said you looked like a woman possessed.

Finally, the wardrobe was empty of your clothes, and you moved on to the chest of drawers and then the bathroom. The contents were shovelled into a couple of large backpacks, as were various other bits and bobs from bedside table drawers and shelving units. In a surprisingly short space of time, you’d packed up everything that belonged to you in this damned apartment.

That left you just two very quick things to do, and you could then somehow get all this luggage downstairs into the lobby and get the hell out of Dodge.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The receptionist at the airport hotel you were booking into looked at the amount of luggage you had with you, and studied your face again carefully. No doubt she was wondering if you were a celebrity. Obviously deciding that there was an outside chance that you were but she just hadn’t recognised you, you were given an upgrade on the room without even asking for one.

Plopping down onto the bed once you’d got into your room, you rummaged around in one of the backpacks until you found your laptop, connecting it to the hotel WiFi. Opening one of the major airlines’ websites, you began scrolling through the destinations offered from JFK.

So many to choose from!

Now to plan your getaway.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy Russo got back home really late. He was going to be in trouble, no doubt about it... he hadn’t even texted because he hadn’t wanted to face any questions about what he was doing and when he’d be home.

Opening the apartment door, he was surprised to find it in darkness. Oh... had she gone to bed already? That wasn’t a good sign. He switched on the lights and immediately noticed a sheet of paper and a photo frame lying prominently on the kitchen island.

Walking over, he didn’t even have to pick up the note to read it. There was only one word, printed large.

“Goodbye.”

His stomach knotted and then he looked at the photo frame lying next to it. The photo was the one which was usually on the bedside table, a favourite of his.... she was sitting on a bar stool and he was behind her, his arms right around her. Both laughing into the lens as the photo was taken.

The photo was still in the frame, but it was torn in two.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Finally, by the next morning you’d decided on London. You’d never been, and quite honestly wanted to lose yourself in another big city. Flight booked, an AirBnB apartment booked for two weeks and you didn’t need a visa, so you were all set.

Now just one more thing to do. You opened up the box containing your new mobile phone and fitted the SIM card into it. After about twenty minutes of entering contact details and various apps onto it, you took your original phone and called Karen.

Her bored voice answered so you knew she was already at work, but she perked up when she heard your voice.

“Hi honey! How’re things? Wanna meet up for lunch today? I’m bored and I need a good gossip.”

You were a freelance copy writer and so you were your own boss. There were one or two assignments you were currently working on, but you could work from anywhere you could get a WiFi connection, so that wasn’t a problem.

“Uhhh, sadly not darling, I’m flying to London this afternoon.” You could hear her intake of breath, then she squealed, “Oh you lucky woman, how’d you manage to land an assignment like that?”

You gave a bitter little laugh, “I’ve left Billy.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy had sat on his sofa for a long time after he’d seen the note and photo. At first he’d just had to sit down, overwhelmed, as he had the most horrible feeling that his world was crashing down around his ears.

She was the one person who made him feel safe and loved. But he knew only too well that he’d been walking the line recently what with the situation at Anvil and having to keep Madani sweet. He hadn’t actually crossed the line, but he’d had to make sure she thought that he would, and soon at that. Would he have crossed it? He’d need to get back to himself on that question.

Of course he’d mentioned none of this to his girl. But obviously - somehow - he mustn’t have done a very good job at being discreet because she’d guessed something was up. And left him.

He’d poured himself a large whisky and downed it in one, before going over to the window and looking out forlornly at the city lights. Then he called Frank.

When he heard the gruff growl on the other end of the line, he said, “She’s left me, Frankie,” and realised how hoarse his voice sounded.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“What?!” screeched Karen. You hadn’t divulged your recent secret fears to her, hoping against hope that you were wrong when you’d started noticing little things over the past few weeks. But now you gave her a full rundown of it all.

More and more claims of ‘working late’ and ‘being very busy at work’.

Alcohol on his breath after he’d been on these ‘working late’ evenings.

A distinct smell of CK’s Eternity from a jumper he’d left crumpled up in a corner on the bedroom floor when he’d been out extra late one evening.

The final straw? You almost laughed when you thought about it, as it was such a cliché. A smear of dark red lipstick on the inside collar on one of his otherwise pristine white shirts. And another unmistakable whiff of Eternity.

You’d never be able to wear that damn perfume again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frankie had been suitably sympathetic to start with, but had then begun to berate Billy for being ‘a stupid asshole’ once he’d explained what he’d been up to with Madani. “I didn’t sleep with her!” Billy grumbled, “....just messin’ around. You know we need to know what she knows.”

“Yeah, but women ain’t stupid, Russo! Were you goin’ home reeking of booze and another woman’s perfume?” Billy said nothing at first, just grunted but then said, “Maybe. Yeah.. probably.” “See!” said Frank, “...you’re a stupid asshole!” “I mean, she didn’t even challenge me on it!” Frank started laughing, “So that makes it her fault, huh!? You’re a piece of work, Russo.” “No, no.... I just meant, aren’t you supposed to have arguments about that kinda stuff first? She just up and left me!”

“I don’t blame her,” said Frank, “...and you know she’s not the type to take any BS from you, Bill. She probably thought it wasn’t worth her time listenin’ to you tryna give excuses for the inexcusable.”

Billy was reminded by this that one of Frank’s pet peeves was infidelity. “But I didn’t cheat!” said Billy forcefully. “Whaddya do, kiss her?” “Yeah.” “Feel her up a bit?” “Mmhuh.” “That’s cheatin’ in my book, Russo.” Billy realised he was hanging his head in shame, and quickly looked up and out of the window again.

“I dunno what to do, Frankie.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d given Karen your new number and told her on pain of death not to pass it on to anyone, even Frank and especially not to Billy. She’d assured you she wouldn’t, and neither would she tell them where you were headed.

She’d been fuming at Billy, and you wouldn’t like to be in his shoes the next time she happened to meet up with him. Her rage had been quite spectacular and she was really, really pissed that Billy hadn’t even tried to contact you. You didn’t say anything to her, but secretly you wondered if he’d actually spent the night with his side piece on this occasion and hadn’t even seen your note yet. Jealousy and anger began to take over and you stood up abruptly, determined that thoughts of that douchebag weren’t going to invade your brain.

You took the SIM card out of the phone, shut it down and tucked it away in one of your bags. Gathering all your stuff together, you began to get ready to leave the room..

Can’t wait to get on that plane, you thought.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frankie rang Billy back a couple of hours later. “Micro tracked her phone,” he said without preamble. “Where is she? At Karen’s?” Billy asked anxiously. There was a pause, then, “Nah, Bill. She’s at JFK. And her phone’s switched off now.”

Billy, standing next to the window again, yelled, “Fuck!” before leaning his head against the cold glass. “Can Micro find out which flight’s she’s booked on, Frankie?” “He can try, but it’ll involve some hacking so it might take a little longer.” He paused again, before continuing, “And avoid Karen. She’s out for your blood.”

Billy sighed, “She’s spoken to her?” “Yeah, course she has, Bill. She knows more than she’s tellin’ me of course, but I’m not even gonna try askin’ her. Waste of time.” “It’s okay, I get it, Frankie. I wouldn’t ask you to. But if she does say anythin’.....” “I’ll let you know,” Frank finished the sentence for him and hung up.

Billy looked out of the window and then up into the sky. She wanted to get away from him so badly, she’d got a plane ticket and was about to fly.

He just prayed he’d be able to find her before she took off.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

London

#billy russo #ben barnes #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine #the punisher 💀

186 notes · View notes

uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Importunity

a lot of people wanted a Shalnark fic so here ya go~

💕Happy Valentine’s Day💕

Warnings: kidnapping, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of death, threats of violence

You'd gotten out.

Your brain was a little too high on the adrenaline of a successful escape for you to think over how exactly you had managed it, but you'd gotten out. The months of living with the man named Shalnark had been slowly wearing you down, exhausting you and at times you considered giving in to him. To 'let him love you', as he put it. Things would've been easier if you could just resign yourself to him and try to live that sweet lie that this relationship was normal and also one that you were still willingly part of.

But resilience held strong, and after many, many attempts at escape, you finally managed to make it to the outside while he was away.

Of course, you were only done with the first part of this plan.

For the second half, you needed to get out of the area before Shalnark came back. And so you were speed-walking through the busy streets of the city, keeping your head down for fear of Shalnark coming back and spotting you. You had never gotten this far before; if he caught you, whatever punishment you would receive for this attempt would be much worse than what he'd done to you previously. And whatever he did to you, he would have that same sickeningly-sweet smile on his face the entire time.

How could a person look so cheerful while they hurt someone else?

At one point you did like Shalnark. You would have gone as far as to say that you loved him. He was nice, if a little bit odd, but after your bad breakup with your ex, Shalnark felt like a breath of fresh air. He was happy to give you attention and eager to go out with you. When the two of you were together, his focus was 100% on you. And the sex was actually good. Shalnark was everything your ex wasn't, and you were happy that you had met such a man.

But after a little while of dating, once the exhilarating feeling of entering a new relationship had died down, red flags started popping up. Like how obsessive Shalnark was when it came to you. How he'd regularly go through your phone to delete contacts of yours, or how he had downloaded weird apps to your phone and computer so he could “keep an eye on you”. The phone made a little bit of sense, maybe, but the computer? You'd questioned him and tried to get him to uninstall those apps off your devices, but he refused.

“Shalnark, do you not trust me?”

At the time, you assumed that this behavior came from a fear that you would cheat on him, and that hurt you more than you had anticipated.

He sensed that as well, as it was one of the few times his cheerful expression vanished, watching you as tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought that he believed you to be a cheater.

Shalnark grabbed you then, holding you against his chest.

“It isn't that at all,” he assured you, stroking your hair.

“I really do want to make sure that you're safe. This is all just in case of a worst-case scenario. If something bad happens and I need to find you immediately.”

He pulled away from you slightly, cupping your face with both hands as he smiled at you again.

“So don't cry, okay?”

“.... What are you worried about exactly?” you asked.

“Lots of things.”

He didn't give you any answers beyond that.

You tried overlooking it. Tried to keep your mind on the positives, but more red flags kept popping up. How he would leave for long periods of time with no explanation, how when he came back, he was sometimes covered in cuts and bruises, and how he would always brush away your concerns and cheerfully refuse to tell you anything. Whenever he was back, he wouldn't let you be around any of your friends, insisting on taking up every second of free time that you had. But when it came to his private life he was willing to drop everything and leave you without explanation.

You felt like you were being used. And you reached your breaking point when he had tried to insist that you not spend any time with your friends when he was out of town.

“I can't do this anymore,” you said, head in your hands as the two of you stood in the kitchen.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to break up.”

Seconds passed by, and Shalnark said nothing. When you moved your hands aside to look at him, he was still smiling at you.

“I see,” he said.

He didn't sound angry, and for a second you wondered if he had been treating you badly to make you break up with him.

Without another word, he pulled out a strange looking needle.

You didn't remember anything after that.

All you knew was when you awoke next, you were in a completely different room in a completely different apartment with Shalnark standing over you.

“I guess I should have seen it coming,” he said to you, “it seems I pushed you a little too hard. But that's all right. We can start over now.”

You were at a loss for words for a few moments as you struggled to understand the situation.

“Start over?” you finally asked.

“Yep.”

“Shalnark, no. I broke up with you.”

“I don't care. I'm keeping you here,” he answered.

“No. I-I don't want to be here,” you said, shaking your head.

“Please Shalnark. Let me go home.”

He grinned, sitting down on the bed with you and grabbing you when you tried to pull away, leaning in until your foreheads were touching.

“Not a chance,” he whispered.

From there the nightmare worsened. You couldn't leave the apartment, and any time you tried, he would catch you and hurt you. Every time, he told you that he didn't want to do it. That it was your fault because you kept misbehaving.

“Things would be easier if you stopped lying to yourself. I know you still have feelings for me.”

You refused to think about that fact. Even though the way he had been treating you before the kidnapping had hurt you, part of you did still care about him. One part of your stupid brain still cared about this incredibly callous man even after everything he had done had you wanting to give in, and you hated yourself for it. It had to have been an act, right? The way he had been when you first met, and how he claimed that he loved you. There was no way he was capable of it. He just wanted to hurt you for his own sick pleasure, and you vowed to never give in to him. You would get away from him and tell the whole world just how much of a sick fuck he was.

You told him that. In the heat of the moment, you had said it right to his face.

He just smiled, and you blacked out again.

The next morning you had awoken to your whole body aching; your muscles were sore and you could barely move your arms and legs. When you stumbled into the bathroom to inspect yourself you found that there were also several cuts and bruises over your entire body.

“Something the matter?”

Shalnark was standing in the doorway, looking pleased with himself as he looked you over.

“.... Shalnark, what did you do?”

He ignored the question, giving you a closed-eyed smile and asking if you wanted breakfast.

You shook those thoughts from your head. Right now, you needed to concentrate on getting away. Once you were safe and had made certain that Shalnark wouldn't be able to touch you again, you'd find a therapist who could help you deal with your trauma and hopefully then you'd be able to go back to being a regular member of society. But right now, you needed to leave before Shalnark came back from his errand and found you missing.

You followed signs pointing in the direction of the subway, which was most likely the fastest way out and the only form of fast transportation that you could really afford, as the meager pile of change you had managed to collect behind his back was all that you had in terms of cash. Just enough to get you to a station on the outskirts of the city and then you'd figure it out from there. You just needed to get as much distance from him as you possibly could.

The streets were fairly crowded, and you needed to dip and weave your way through several groups of people that were walking far too slow and hindering your escape. You'd bumped into a few people, all of who were asking what your problem was as you hurried away. With all of the time that had passed since you were taken, you were certain that you'd been listed as a missing person, but being recognized as that right now wouldn't do you any good.

You spotted the steps that lead down to the underground subway, and against your better judgment, you felt a wave of relief wash over you as you cut through the crowded street to make it down those steps. Things could still go wrong. You knew that. But you were so close and if you could just get onto that train you'd finally be able to get help.

When you were just a few feet away from the top step, a hand grabbed you by the upper arm.

Your mind instantly told you that it was Shalnark, but when you looked to your side, you found an older man with graying hair holding you in place. You didn't recognize him, but he was yelling at you in a language you didn't understand. What you did to earn this reaction, you weren't sure, but it was costing you time and drawing attention as people around you turned to look at the commotion.

“I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're saying,” you said, trying to pull your arm away from him. Instead his grip became tighter and he grew red in the face, virtually screaming at you.

You didn't need this. And you needed to go now.

“Please let me go,” you tried, but it got you nowhere. The old man was still screaming and the crowd around you had stepped back, creating a circle around the two of you. There were murmurings all around you that slowly grew louder, and at one point you swore you heard someone say your name, but all you could really focus on was the old man and the way your heart was beating in your ears as your panic grew at a rapid pace. This was already a scene and with how unstable the man was acting, it could easily become violent.

You were scared. Scared that this man would hurt you, but more so you were scared that Shalnark would somehow manage to catch wind of this and track you down.

No one helped you as you tried to pull away again, the old man responding by jerking your arm harder, making you cry out. Why was no one helping you?

You kicked him in the groin. Hard.

The old man's screaming finally stopped as he stumbled backwards, releasing his grip on you.

You sprinted away, pushing past the people who had gathered in front of the subway stairs.

Someone grabbed you by the wrist, and you were spun around as you yanked your hand back.

You didn't actually see how close you were to the top step, but the momentum of pulling your wrist away sent you flying back.

You were aware of how your heel slipped over the edge of the top step.

And then you were falling.

Down into the darkened space of the subway station, and away from the crowd of people that stared at you, making no move to stop your fall.

Why was no one helping?

Your head hit the bottom of the stairs.

You probably hit a few other places on your body before you reached the bottom, but it was impossible to tell once you'd hit your head. You were too disoriented to tell what else was hurting; you could only focus on the pain in the back of your skull.

God, it hurt.

The world around you began to blur and you could only make out shapes and colors. At a certain point everything began spinning and you needed to close your eyes to keep from throwing up. You threw up anyway. At least, you thought you did. Trying to move was a mistake, and you were forced to keep still while you heard people talking around you. Hands that were grabbing you, hoisting you up at one point.

When you heard sirens you cracked your eyes open slightly and you were immediately punished by bright white lights above you that forced you to shut your eyes again.

A hand grabbed your face and pulled it to the side, making the pain in your skull shoot through you. Someone was prodding at spot where your head had hit the ground, brushing your hair aside to look at the injury. They weren't being gentle, either.

You were pretty sure you threw up again.

Time passed in bits and pieces.

A lot of talking, though you couldn't make out what was said.

A lot of faces you didn't recognize, looking down at you. They didn't seem happy, and you wondered why.

A lot of different machines, that you were either put into or were placed around you. Needles, tubes and fresh white sheets.

You tried talking a few times. You weren't always sure if there was anyone around when you did, but you always tried when you felt like you had the strength.

It'd be nice to know why you couldn't smell anything.

If you were able to get out any coherent sentences, no one ever answered you.

A sterile white ceiling greeted you when you opened your eyes next. There were noises, too. A dull chatter of voices from beyond the room and a constant beeping that sounded from the machines next to you. The amount of time it took you to realize that the plain white room was a hospital room was embarrassing, really. It should have been the medical equipment that tipped you off, but it was only when you got a look at the plastic barriers around the bed that you were able to deduce where you were.

Your head was still aching. How far had you fallen? Would there be permanent damage? In your haziness you managed to remember that most hospital rooms had a button to call for a nurse. Best to find that and try to get some answers.

But when you tried moving your arm, you found that your wrist was stuck on something.

Looking down, you saw that your wrists and ankles had been strapped to the bed and you were barely able to move them a few inches.

They only strapped people down when they were acting violent, right? Why would they do this to you? You couldn't remember a lot, so maybe you had acted out at one point before you got here? What other reason would they have to tie you down?

Shalnark.

In the midst of your confusion over your current situation, you remembered the man you were trying to get away from. The fact that you were in a situation where you were tied down and completely vulnerable sent a rush of adrenaline through you and you struggled at your restraints. He'd be coming for you, and you did not want to still be here once he found this hospital.

One of the machines next to you began to beep rapidly, signifying your increased heart rate and echoing in the small room.

You hadn't made any progress on freeing yourself when the door burst open, a woman in a white nurse's dress standing in the doorway. She took only a second to assess the situation before she came at you with a needle in hand.

“Please, I can't stay here. He'll find me!” you begged her.

She didn't acknowledge you and only held one of your arms as she injected whatever substance was in the needle into your veins. Whatever it was, it worked fast as you felt yourself beginning to drift back off into sleep.

“He'll hurt me,” you whispered.

The nurse above you scoffed.

“If only.”

Days passed by, and you felt like you were getting better. Not completely better, but your bouts of slipping back into unconsciousness seemed to stop after a point, and the ache in your skull had dulled a bit.

The treatment from the few that were around you didn't get any better. As you slowly recovered from your fall, you were able to see the way in which the nurses regarded you: disgust, mostly, and a fair amount of resentment whenever they needed to come in to take care of you. The one you saw most often was the nurse you had seen when you had first woken up. She was an older woman, and refused to give you any painkillers.

“I knew Regina's mother,” she hissed at you one morning, “what you did to those people was monstrous.”

“.... Who's Regina?”

Your question had earned you a harsh slap to the face, and your evening meal that day came later than usual and tasted worse than the regular hospital meal.

Detectives came in sometimes. Strangely enough they would ask you questions about your relationship with your ex and the last time you had seen him, but they left pretty fast whenever you tried bringing up the fact that you'd been kidnapped. You would only ever get as far as telling them Shalnark's name before they were heading back out the door.

“We'll get the truth when you're well enough to be brought in to the station,” they had said on their last visit.

Based off how you had been doing, it probably wouldn't be long before you were moved to a more secure location.

With no tv or books to occupy your time and the fact that you remained with your hands and legs tied down, there was little else you could do during your time in that room besides think. No one was telling you anything, and you were left to try and figure things out on your own. You had been blamed for something, that was certain, and based off of the reactions of those around you and the fact that you had seen various cops sitting outside your door whenever a nurse came in, it was something serious.

It was Shalnark's doing. It had to have been. Had he framed you for a crime?

Those blackouts you would occasionally have came to mind, along with that morning you had awoken to your entire body feeling sore and overworked. It had been reasonable to suspect that he had done something to you during those times, but you had assumed he was fucking you in your sleep or something. It had never occurred to you that he was using you to do something more.

But aside from that, it was strange he was taking so long to come and get you.

Moving fast was the only way you potentially had any chance of getting away from him, and for you to have not seen him once since your very public apprehending didn't feel right. Once he had figured out where you were, surely he would have been fast in taking you back. It would have been easier than ever if he had come immediately after your fall. The fact that you had remained her for so long could only mean that he was planning something.

You remembered the detectives' words, on how they would be moving you to the police station once you got better. If Shalnark wasn't planning on coming into the hospital to get you, was he waiting for your relocation in order to make his move?

You needed to get out of the hospital before it came to that, you decided.

A frenzied escape attempt with no thought put into it was bound to get you caught. You had learned that much during your time trapped with Shalnark. You needed to keep calm and not draw any attention to yourself. If you freaked out too much and made too much noise, that nurse would come back in, inject you with those drugs and you would lose valuable hours that you needed to get away.

Slowly, and with a great deal of effort, you wiggled the wrist of your dominant hand around in an attempt to get it out of the restraint. Though the straps were made of fabric, it was a stiffer material, and after a fair amount of wiggling, the skin around your wrist was raw and bloody as you tried to loosen it while making your hand as small as possible.

Somehow, after hours of pulling as hard as you could, you finally freed your hand, gasping out a sigh of relief as you took a moment to rest. Luckily, no one had come to check on you yet, but it would be impossible to hide the fact that your hand was no longer tied down if they came too close. At least the remaining restraints were easier to get off, but now you were faced with your next problem: getting out of the room.

It was getting close to evening, around the time when someone would come in to feed you. Whoever came in always came with the sedatives, but you had noticed that most of the staff had been growing somewhat lax during your time here, and you would use that to your advantage.

When the next nurse came in, you were back in your usual spot on the bed, having arranged the sheets in a way so she couldn't see that you weren't tied down. She was a younger, quieter woman who avoided looking at you if she could. And as expected, a needle full of sedatives were on the tray she brought in with your meal.

When she set the tray down, you told her “someone slipped something under the door earlier.”

“What?”

You motioned with your head.

“Earlier, somebody slipped something under the door. I'm not sure what it was, but it looked like paper?”

“I don't see anything.”

“I think it went flying when you opened the door,” you explained.

She sighed, turning away from you to look at the area around the door. When she began to walk forward, you jumped off the bed as quietly as you could and reached for the needle.

“I still don't see anythi-”

Your hand covered her mouth as you stuck the needle into her neck, pushing its contents into her. She struggled briefly and went as far as to bite your hand, but within moments she was out, falling out of your grasp and onto the floor.

You felt terrible as you dragged the nurse across the floor and hid her behind the bed. There was no way you had the strength to lift her up and place her in the bed; you hadn't moved for weeks now and your muscles felt strained just from dragging her. Her neck was bleeding a bit, and you sincerely hoped you had just knocked her out and hadn't managed to do anything that would damage her permanently. If only it had been the nurse who had slapped you that you had come across, then at least you wouldn't have felt as bad.

You felt even worse when you forced yourself to remove her clothing. She was a bit wider than you were and her clothes didn't fit all that well, but it would hopefully work as a disguise so you could get out of the building. At least the long-sleeved sweater she had been wearing would cover the wound around your wrist. In an effort to give her some sort of apology, you placed a blanket over her.

“Everything all right in there?” a voice from outside suddenly called.

…. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You'd forgotten about the officer outside the room.

“Yeah, everything's fine,” you answered, trying to imitate the nurse's voice as best you could.

“Okay,” was the answer. You didn't think that you sounded much like her, but evidently it was good enough.

“Do you mind waiting in there for a little bit?” the officer asked through the door, “I need to use the restroom.”

“Y-yeah, go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

At least there was a little bit of luck on your side, it seemed. You couldn't believe that you'd managed to forget that there was someone on the outside watching over you, but that problem seemed to have taken care of itself. Best not to try and rely on getting so lucky every time, though.

After a few moments, you peeked your head outside the door, and when you found the coast to be clear, you began to hurry down the hallway.

There weren't many people in the halls, and the ones that were there didn't seem to notice you in your slightly over-sized clothes and shoes. Still, you kept your head down and moved as fast as you could, not willing to risk someone recognizing you again. A staff-only stairway caught your attention, and you pushed on the heavy door and entered the dimly-lit stairwell.

You traveled down several flights of stairs to get to the ground floor. It would probably be a bad idea to try to leave through the front entrance. Finding some kind of side or back door would be best; something like that shouldn't be too hard to find.

A directory caught your attention, and you noted the arrow that pointed the way to a loading bay. It wouldn't be an area that would be open to visitors or regular patients, but there was the chance that hospital workers could be in there. But you didn't know how much time you had left before that nurse was discovered and you were found to be missing, and you didn't want to waste time wandering the halls trying to find an exit. Right now you needed to hope you would just be lucky.

Your luck held as you made it to the loading bay, as the others roaming the hospital halls were too absorbed in their own tasks to pay attention to you. And to your delight, no one was in the loading area either. This was perfect. Just a few more steps and you'd be free. You stumbled a bit down the steps of the platform before you decided to cast off the ill-fitting shoes. It was dumb to run around a city barefoot, but hopefully you could find a change of clothes somewhere and get rid of the whole nurse getup completely.

The cement was cold against your feet as you ran across it. You'd be out of here and then you could focus on getting out of this goddamned city.

As you came up to a pillar, a figure jumped out in front of you. You were too slow to react, and you ran right into it.

“Found you~”

It was a voice that you knew well, and you found that you recognized the shirt that your face was currently pressed up against. Not a lot of men wore purple pastel.

Shalnark was beaming down at you as he wrapped his arms around your back and kept you pressed against him.

“I missed you so much!” he continued, “Really, words can't describe how miserable I was without you around.”

“L-let me go!” you cried, trying to get out of his grasp. He only pulled you in closer.

“But we just found each other again. How could I let you go after we've been apart for so long?” Shalnark said.

You continued to struggle, trying to slip out of his arms that held you in whatever way you could. Shalnark seemed content to watch you writhe in his grasp, but he seemed to tire of it as he let out a quiet sigh and released you. You immediately pushed off from him and ran back to the stairs.

“Who's going to help you in there?”

You had only reached the foot of the stairs when he asked that, and you stopped in your tracks. He had a point. Everyone hated you, to put it lightly. It was unlikely that anyone would come to help you even if you begged them to. Turning back to Shalnark, you found him holding his phone out. He had pulled something up on the screen but it was too far away for you to read.

“Don't you want to know what's going on?” he asked, “come back over and you can find out.”

You shook your head.

“Oh? I thought you would have had questions. You sure you don't want to know?”

“I do,” you admitted, “but I also don't want to be anywhere near you. You'll make me black out again.”

“I won't do that,” he said, “there'd be no point in doing that right now. I promise, I won't do anything. Just come back to me.”

Your hand gripped the railing of the stairs and you looked back to the hospital's back entrance. Every fiber of your being wanted to run back inside, even if you would just be restrained and knocked out again.

“C'mon,” Shalnark tried again, “I'm literally holding all of the answers. All you need to do is walk back over.”

This was some kind of trick. It had to be. Shalnark wasn't forthcoming in anything and his promises meant nothing. All this was some sort of way to entrap you.

But if that was the case, then you were trapped anyway. You had no chance of being able to outrun or outsmart him. Once he caught sight of you, you were caught even before he had held you in his arms. He was letting you move around for now. If you made another break for the door, you'd be knocked out again.

Your hand released itself from the railing, and you slowly walked back to him, every step hesitant as you waited for him to pull something.

For once, Shalnark stayed true to his word as he didn't move when you got closer. He even tossed the phone over to you when you got close enough. You caught it with shaking hands, looking back up at him while he held his hands up in mock surrender.

“See? Nothing bad. I just want you to read it.”

There was no way that was all he wanted, and though it was a stupid idea to take your eyes off of him, with how insistent he was being on this you complied with his demands and looking at the article he had pulled up on his phone.

You had guessed at what he had made you do. In your time stuck in that room, running through in your head the ways that people had treated you, how they had reacted to just seeing you, and you knew that he had made you do something horrific.

But it was still hard to read those words that proclaimed you to be a murderer.

Your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend, a woman you'd never met named Regina, had been found outside of his car, beaten to death. That same night, the house where Regina's family lived had been set on fire, her mother, father and siblings having all been trapped upstairs and succumbing to the smoke and flames. DNA evidence at both crime scenes pointed to you.

There was a photo, too. Grainy and probably taken from a surveillance camera, but the details were clear enough: you, walking outside, stone-faced and covered in blood.

“Shalnark,” you said slowly, “what did you do?”

“Me? I didn't do anything,” he said, laughing, “it's pretty clear that you're the one who killed your ex and his girlfriend in a jealous rage.”

“No,” you protested, “I-I didn't. It was you. You controlled me. Made me do it.”

“Yeah,” Shalnark admitted. He stepped towards you to take the phone back, adding “but how are you going to prove something like that in court?”

“.... Why?”

The answer to that question was obvious, but you couldn't think of anything else to say.

“Because of that thing you said: that you'd expose me to the world or something. After all we've been through, it made me really sad that you still feel like that,” he explained, “I felt like I wasn't getting anywhere with you. So I decided that some drastic measures were in order.

“You've been really desperate to get away from me, but I wondered: would you still be like that if you knew there was no chance of going back to the way things were?”

“.... What are you saying?” you asked.

“I'll let you choose,” Shalnark answered, “if you really don't want to be with me, I'll let you go. But with all of the evidence there is against you, you'll probably be looking at a life sentence in prison.”

He hummed, hand on his chin as he thought to himself.

“I don't see you doing too well in a prison, personally. And with how bad your crimes were, you'd be sent to the worst one they can find.”

“A-and if I go back with you?” you asked after a moment.

“Then we'll go back to normal!” he said cheerfully, “you'll keep living with me and loving me, and I'll keep you safe. Doesn't that sound nicer than being locked up in some prison?”

“I.....” you began, trailing off. Shalnark waited patiently for you to continue.

“I-I could run away. Go to Meteor City....?”

The sentence came out more like a question.

“You could,” said Shalnark, “but Meteor City won't take you. In fact, if you were to step one foot inside you'd be dead in an instant.”

All of this was becoming too much, and you began to hyperventilate at the thought of what he had made you do to cut off an escape to Meteor City.

“Oh, don't worry. It wasn't nearly as dramatic as the other murders; you just stabbed a guy,” Shalnark explained, “but Meteor City doesn't like it when one of theirs is killed for no reason, so if they find you, they'll retaliate in kind. You're pretty lucky the police here kept your location under wraps; I can't imagine how many attempts on your life there would have been if they'd managed to find out.

“But more importantly, what's your decision? Am I taking you back with me or are you going to reject me one final time?”

Seconds turned into minutes as the two of you stood in in that loading bay, Shalnark waiting for your answer while your brain scrambled to figure out what to do. You couldn't go back with Shalnark. Not after all he had done and all you had tried to get away from him. But he was right that you wouldn't survive in a prison. Not that you would have very long to live if you did go to one, as someone from Meteor City would be fast to find and kill you for the man you murdered.

Oh god, what were your parents going through? To have your name be blasted on the headlines as a serial killer. How many friends had they lost? How were they handling the inevitable ostracization they were going through? How many people were trying to hurt them because they couldn't get to you? And did your parents believe you had done all those things? Did they hate you? Was it the same case for your friends and other family? Or would they be able to distance themselves enough that the court of public opinion wouldn't judge them? All of that didn't even go into what you would go through if you were brought to trial. Your entire character would be picked apart and you would go down in the records as a crazed ex-girlfriend who couldn't stand the thought of the guy she liked being with another woman. And that would last until Meteor City came for you.

A potentially longer life stuck with Shalnark, or one that would definitely be much shorter as you were tried for crimes you didn't commit?

It had started to rain as the two of you stood there, and the cold rainwater ran down the slanted entrance of the loading bay and past your bare feet, making you shiver.

Then you heard police sirens in the distance.

“I think they've found out that you escaped,” said Shalnark, “it's now or never.”

You stood still, staring at him dumbly.

He hummed to himself.

“I see,” he said. Then Shalnark turned, and began to walk away.

True panic hit you at the sight of him leaving you behind. Without Shalnark, you would be at the mercy of the police. You'd be at the mercy of a whole world that thought you were a murderer and wouldn't care if you died. Shalnark at least cared a bit, in his own selfish way that didn't regard your feelings in the slightest.

If you didn't go with Shalnark, you would die.

That thought forced your legs to move you forward, and you reached out to grasp the back of his shirt in a desperate bid to keep him from leaving.

He stopped, and for a moment, the two of you stayed there like that.

Shalnark spun around suddenly, grabbing your shoulders to pull you into a kiss.

It was hard to not resist, and after a few seconds, you pushed forward to make yourself kiss him back.

He was grinning ear to ear when he pulled away.

“I knew you'd make the right choice. I knew you couldn't hate me so much to choose death over me.”

He pulled you into a hug, stroking your back as he told you “don't worry; I wouldn't have actually let you go. There's nothing in this world that could ever make me abandon you.”

You weren't sure if you should believe him or not.

“We'd better get out of here. This place'll be infested with cops pretty soon.”

You wordlessly accepted the hand he held out to you after he pulled away, and you let him lead you out into the rain and the street beyond. He immediately walked you to an awaiting taxi cab, ushering you into the back before he slid in behind you. The taxi driver didn't acknowledge when the two of you entered, and when you looked over to him, you saw a familiar-looking bat shaped needle sticking in his arm.

The car drove off with the two of you inside after Shalnark typed in a few commands on his phone, and he set it aside to focus on you.

“I didn't mention it earlier, but I actually really like that nurse look,” he said, leaning forward to pull down the sweater so he could get a better look at the nurse's dress you had stolen.

“Hmm. It's a little big on you, though,” he commented as he pulled at the fabric a bit to prove his point, “if I buy you one that fits, will you wear it for me?”

You nodded.

Shalnark, grinned, bringing you into another hug.

You wanted to push him away like you had done before, but things were different now. You had chosen to stay with him. Now you needed to accept his advances. Even though he had said that he would never abandon you, how much could you really trust him?

Shalnark speaking your name brought you out of your thoughts, and he whispered to you “if you try to escape again after this, I'll cut off your legs.”

You couldn't see his expression, but his voice was serious, and you jumped when he pulled away once more.

That smile was back on his face, and he cheerfully said “just kidding.”

#yandere #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #shalnark #yandere shalnark #shalnark x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert

614 notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 3 years

Text

Powerful Ch. 1

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU* Quirkless as well

Warnings: Arranged (sort of) marriage, brief mention of champagne, mentions of violence (nothing too specific). In later chapters: Probably smut

Word Count: 3.4 k

Author’s Note: ALRIGHTY here we go. I just had a fixation on Mafia AUs and, of course, it’s Shouta. What else did you expect? I’m a sucker for arranged relationships. Also he’s a little ooc in here, more confident, more ‘I want it I got it’. Hey, he’s the most powerful man in Japan, might as well have him act like it right? Anywho, I have no clue how many chapters this’ll end up being. Let’s just say this is ongoing for now.

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Enjoy~

25 years old and you haven’t been married off yet. This was strategic on your father’s part. As a rather low-ranking clan he’d purposely saved you, his eldest daughter, for marrying into a higher ranked clan. You’d bring immense honor to the family name. If only you’d known what you were getting into, maybe you could have been better prepared for your world to flip on its head.

The black velvet gown you wear is tailored perfectly to your form, accentuating every curve and dip on your body. The skirt fanned out around you gracefully and a short train trailed behind you as you stepped through the grand doors of the massive mansion. Tonight is the annual celebratory ball, held to celebrate successful unions and achievements. This one was particularly special, you just didn’t quite know it yet.

Since the event wasn’t mandatory, you were told to go in alone as a representative of your clan, while Mother and Father attended to more important matters. Before you even stepped in you fixed your posture and schooled your expression, keeping your form humbled. Heavens know what could happen should you irk the wrong clan.

Inside you were met with an onslaught of mixed everything, mixed drinks and colors and styles. Some wore traditional Japanese kimono, others more modern versions of the garment and others, like you, wearing more extravagant european or western style clothing. Though a rather interesting mix, nothing quite clashed which you were slightly grateful for, since there was no possible way you could make it through the night without a headache if there was an unpleasant mix of visuals.

You strode through and instantly met several lower clan heads that you respectfully bowed to and engaged in pleasant small talk with, moving from person to person, couple to couple and paying respects to all of them. You kept a small smile, a pleasant facade as you waltzed over the hardwood flooring. It took almost two hours of endless conversation before you managed to catch a break in the madness, snatching a small flute of champagne from a waiter and leaning up against a wall for a breath.

You still hadn’t noticed the pair of dark eyes that studied you from the moment you arrived.

____

You struck him as intriguing at first. From the moment you walked over the threshold his eyes drank you in, studying you, observing and judging just as he had with many other women before you. No one here knows it, but the man is looking for a bride. Someone who could stand by his side,improve and uphold his image, help him wield the power that is the Yakuza. Yes, rank is important, but Shouta is too picky to care about rank. He is looking for a specific type of woman, one that can hold untold depths of power without crumbling under the pressure or getting swept up in the rush of it all.

A woman, he decides, like you.

You held yourself with grace, pride and humility. You seemed to understand your position, your probable low rank, while also not undermining your importance nor worth. A woman like you is hard to come by in this world, most just as power hungry and ruthless and greedy as their husbands, all while putting up a cotton candy sweet mask and using it to disguise their conniving ways.

But in truth, that’s what it took to live this kind of life, isn’t it?

It was clear you knew that, while still managing to feel genuine in everything you did, even with an action as simple as sipping champagne. At the same time he can’t deny you are quite beautiful, soft lips and softer eyes, fingers gently grasping your glass with unmatched elegance and an unwavering strength in your posture. You’d bowed before many this evening, and yet you stood taller than even the highest ranking clan heads without challenging a single one of them. Bamboo in this forest of tall, unyielding trees. Capable of wielding so much power.

For a split second his mind wandered to other things, filthy moments shared in the privacy of his chambers, shared breaths and shimmering sweaty skin. He wondered what you would be like underneath him, if you would be a brat or willingly submit yourself to him. He hopes it to be the latter, but wouldn’t completely deny the chance to tame someone difficult. How would you look pinned under his weight, completely helpless to his hands that have killed and tortured? Would you claw at his shoulders or grip the sheets instead? What would you sound like? Your image plagued his mind even if only for a moment.

He’d studied many women over the few hours since the event started, none of them giving him a good enough first impression for him to continue watching further than a minute. There was no question in his mind now. You’d be returning home with him tonight.

____

You had just finished your drink and set the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray when suddenly the ballroom fell extremely silent. All heads turned, eyes focused on the man that began his descent from the balcony overlooking the floor. He’s gorgeous, long black hair pulled into a low bun and exposing the light scruff on his chin and impossibly sharp jaw, a deep scar curved under his right eye. The full black satin suit is fitted to his form, strong shoulders and rolling muscle evident even under the thick materials. Ink peeked over the collar, a hint at what was definitely intricate sleeves and detailed artwork. His steps were measured, calculated and purposeful as he made his way down and across the floor, the entire room bowing down at his presence.

You know who he is, as does every person here. Top rung of the ladder, Oyabun of the most powerful clan in Japan, his name widely known through the entire organization and yet almost never spoken. Shouta Aizawa, a name both respected and feared, holding unknown power and strength. His reputation is enough to make anyone feel small in his presence, known for his cold demeanor and the violence he’d committed, many losing their fingers, loved ones, and their own lives for misdeeds against him. He’d done most of that himself, marking him as a very dangerous man to be involved with, and an ally everyone wanted backing them.

You bowed down respectfully just as everyone else did, waiting patiently for a release, whether it was from the man himself or a collective understanding that it was alright to rise once again. The former was the first to come to fruition, though you didn’t expect him to be so close to you as he said it. Your eyes met with sharp onyx as you fixed yourself upright. It made you freeze in place, not quite tense, not quite relaxed, your expression hopefully not showing the utter shock you were feeling.

“What is your name?” You blinked only once before your mind caught up, and you willed your voice steady as you responded. What had you done to piss him off? What punishment awaited you for what you didn’t know you’d done? Despite fearing what may come, you don’t dare speak out of turn, even to beg for your life. His next words were addressed to the entire ballroom, you included, his smooth, deep voice booming out and yet somehow not loud at all.

“Any transgression against this woman is a transgression against me. As my future wife she is untouchable, and will remain that way until I explicitly state otherwise.” A collective hushed gasp sounded through the massive hall, your own eyes growing wide and your heart damn near stopping as your brain dissected the information. He just made you his fiance, with no warning, no hesitation, and full confidence. You are now engaged to the most powerful man in Japan, and you have exactly zero say in the matter. Really though, you never expected to be able to voice any opinions considering the patriarchy of the organization, so that bit of shock was quickly overlooked.

“It’s time to retire, little one.” His hand was held out to you, waiting for your own. You blinked, deciding it was best that you saved your shock for later you focused on the here and now and what to do in this moment. Taking a breath, you schooled your face into a pleasant smile and placed your hand in his waiting palm, allowing him to tuck you into his side as you both walked out the front doors and climbed into a black limouzine.

You didn’t allow yourself to relax, sitting silently next to the man as trees and telephone poles whizzed by the vehicle. It was tense, to say the least, his hand possessively sat on your knee as his eyes remained fixed in front of him and yours did the same. Neither of you talked, you slightly out of fear, of respect, and slightly out of sheer shock, your mind just barely able to keep itself together. He remained silent for a purpose. He would talk when you were alone, or when he felt like talking. Which isn’t right now.

You let your mind whirl a bit, worrying about what this meant for you. Worrying about how this powerful man would treat you, how he acted behind closed doors and if he even cared about you or what you might have to say. It’s nerve-wracking, suddenly bound to a power such as him, not knowing what could happen next, not knowing what to do next. There was nothing that could have prepared you for this.

The car slowed as it pulled up to the gate of the enormous estate, shaking you out of your thoughts, and once it opened the drive to the main house took nearly five minutes on its own. It’s a modern home, several stories tall with the top clearly penthouse-style with a full glass wall that overlooks the landscape, the rest of the huge inner home hidden behind crisp walls.

At a full stop, a man opens the door for you, the Oyabun having already exited and held a hand out for you to grab once again, strong muscles pulling you up with ease and leading you through the building and into an elevator. The silence is stifling as you wait for the machine to come to a stop, the soft chime indicating you’ve landed.

Now you’re completely alone with him.

He leads you in and stops in the center of the large main room, stepping away and turning his scrutinizing gaze onto you. You do your best not to tense in front of him, not to show fear, partially for his comfort though you’re sure he’s used to it. His shoes clack softly, rhythmically on the polished wood floor as he begins to circle you, like a predator eyeing its prey, eyes burning paths up and down your form. You barely keep from squirming under his intense gaze, managing to keep still from sheer willpower. He stops suddenly behind you and you feel his warmth as he leans in close before a hand presses into your mid back and another gently grasps your shoulder, gently making you straighten even more, stand even taller.

Once he’s satisfied with your posture he rounds you and tilts your chin just a tad higher with a hooked finger. He’s silent as he shapes you, adjusting your body to his liking. You let him tenderly push and tug, grab and knead and trail those deadly fingers over you until he stops before you, studying you once again.

“You’re my fiance now. You will hold yourself as such, radiate power as I do and command the attention of a room with only a glance.” The reminder of just what was happening made your breath stutter a little, and his hand came up to grasp your chin, making you look up into his dark eyes.

“You will learn, little one, to be the powerful woman I see.” He was so close, the heat from his body rolling over your skin and his breaths fanning over your face. Then he was walking away, motioning for you to follow as he led you to his chambers and bathroom to get cleaned up. You’d be sleeping with him from now on, he said, handing you a robe to change into after you’ve bathed and guiding you into the bathroom before closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts as you set to cleaning yourself.

Given you don’t screw things up, you are going to be the most powerful woman in Japan, solely because of a sudden arranged marriage dropped seemingly from out of nowhere. But the longer you think about it, it isn’t really out of nowhere is it? The Oyabun is 30 now, and until tonight hadn’t named a wife, nor any love interests, and therefore no possible heirs. If the man were to die for any reason, those chances only increasing the older he gets, the power vacuum his absence would create would be absolute madness. You’re part of a strategy, just as before. Just as always.

Yet there was no denying he’d struck something inside you. Of all the women in that hall he approached you, a woman he didn’t know from a low ranked clan, for reasons you could only barely begin to guess. He’d called you powerful earlier, the sincerity in his voice making your mind spin. Did he really see you as powerful? And the name he’d used for you felt far too tender on the tongue of such a dangerous man, though you understood the nod toward your previous rank.

Father and Mother must be either confused, shocked, or overflowing with joy right about now. Confused as to why you haven’t returned, shocked, happy, or both at the news had they learned it. With your mind processing everything, your body finally begins to feel fatigued.

You shut off the water before drying yourself, patting your hair in the towel before pulling on the fluffy robe. It was clearly meant for him, the fuzzy black garment large around the shoulders and sleeves engulfing your hands, the garment nearly touching the floor where it’s meant to hang several inches from it on his frame. Despite swimming in the robe, you couldn’t help but feel a bit vulnerable. You’re bare beneath it, not having planned to not return home. Still, it’s late, and the Oyabun needs to shower as well. With a steadying breath, you step out into the room.

He’s standing near the bed, the top half of his clothing discarded and bare skin exposed, along with the heavy tattooing and scars along his body. Dragon scales decorated his skin, along with delicate swirls heavily resembling smoke and clouds that followed the curves of his corded muscles. He is undoubtedly a beautiful man. You don’t realize you’re staring until a miniscule smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Enjoying the view, little one?” You blink away your daze and shift your eyes to the side, feeling the slight burn in your face at being caught. Instead of answering the cheeky question you choose to change the subject.

“I’m finished with my shower, Oyabun.” He hums, a low sound you can feel in your chest.

“I can see that, little one. And you call me Shouta.” You take a quiet, sharp inhale and nod.

“Yes, of course...Shouta.” His name feels heavy on your tongue, a name that people didn’t normally dare speak. He’s silent as he gathers his things and moves toward the bathroom, stopping momentarily by your side. You’re confused a moment before his calloused fingers gently grip your jaw and turn your head, his lips pressing softly against your temple for a split second before he’s disappearing into the bathroom.

You stand in shock, the tender touch unexpected. Shaking your head, you decide it’s best to lay down. Hopefully you’d fall asleep by the time he finishes bathing, but you doubted it. You’re proven right when, in the midst of mulling over your own thoughts, he emerges in nothing but sweatpants, dark hair still damp as it fell around his shoulders. You managed to avert your eyes before he could catch you staring for a second time tonight, and it wasn’t long before he slipped under the blankets next to you.

There wasn’t a single word shared between you as he flicked off the lights with a remote and settled into the plush mattress. There was no movement from the man as you lay with your back to him. You aren’t entirely sure if the lack of movement unsettles you more than if he were to be shuffling around. It felt like hours had passed in the darkness, your eyes had adjusted and you couldn’t sleep despite how exhausted you felt.

Your mind raced with questions. What happens now? What happens with your clan and parents? Would you have clothes soon? How would he treat you? How were you supposed to act around him? When is the wedding? Is the engagement already official? What if you disappoint him and fuck everything over? The entire situation makes you anxious, for more than something as trivial as your own safety. You shift onto your back and listen to Shouta’s soft snores, signaling his sleep. As silently and gently as you can, you slip out of bed.

You have no clue what you were going to do or where you were going to do it, but you had to get away from him if only for a moment, to let yourself breathe and think. Almost mindlessly, you find yourself staring out of the glass wall and out into the night. This far out, you can see the stars in the night sky clear and bright, and it was a sight you missed having lived in the city most of your life. Right here you have room to think, space to spread your thoughts and calm your mind to keep from jumbling everything in your brain and stressing over it more.

From what you can tell there is a very small chance Shouta would treat you maliciously, so for now you don’t have to worry about that. Considering his power and status, you won’t be without clothing for long. The thought was silly in the first place, but stress tended to make you question even the most ridiculous. As for how you’re meant to act, well that would have to be tested. He’d already told you how to appear to the public, so that shouldn’t be too hard, but being alone with the man was driving you insane.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts. You spin around, suddenly very much on guard, before Shouta’s voice broke through the darkness, his figure slowly approaching.

“What are you doing up, little one?” You bite your lip and turn to gaze outside again, hugging your arms tight.

“Just thinking. I apologize for waking you, Oya-… Shouta.” His warmth hit you before his skin did, chest pressed into your back and large rough hands gripping your shoulders firm but gentle. His breath is hot on your ear and neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Such an intimate action from him only hours after he’d made you his fiance was quite the shock in and of itself, only enhanced by the fact that this man is known for his cold nature.

“Thinking about what?” His hands smoothed down your arms, following them around your waist and encompassing your hands in his, tugging you into him further. Unnatural as it may seem, it feels good, his warmth. In the arms of such a dangerous and powerful man you should feel small and scared, but you don’t. You aren’t entirely sure what it is you feel. Truthfully, you don’t have the energy to answer his question properly.

“About a lot of things. Too many things.” Right now, the only thing you want to do is melt into the man’s arms. His presence is suddenly comforting, instead of worrying, and you feel safe in his embrace. You sigh and lean into him, fatigue finally beginning to tug at your body and mind. Strong arms scoop you up like nothing, and suddenly you’re being placed down on the bed before he climbs in and pulls you onto him. An arm circles your waist while the other cradles your head, a tender kiss placed at your hairline.

“Sleep, little one.” His fingers thread through your hair, massaging your scalp lightly. It’s a soothing action, especially after nearly giving yourself a headache from stress. It isn’t long before you’re nodding off, relaxing into his body and letting his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep.

#shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa #mafia au bnha #mafia au mha #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader

317 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Note

Can u pls write something like dark!reader x steve rogers high school AU , where R is rich spoil brat & she always had a crush on steve but she always bully him by calling him skinny and all and Then yrs later, time changes her family discarded her from will and she becomes poor and need job, got hired for PA by dark ceo!steve rogers who she bullied her all school lifee😈😈

okay this is a lot for a headcanon but I don’t have time to do a whole oneshot BUT I also really like it so we’re gonna just make a longass headcanon here we gooooo

warnings for heavy dub con, choking, slapping, degradation (by steve), bullying (by the reader), abortion mention, brief mention of/implied assault.

“heyo pipsqueak” you called out to get steve’s attention, laughing when he frowned. “looks like you grew a whole inch over summer, be sure to have your mom draw a line in pencil on the doorframe.”

he just rolled his eyes and got back to chatting with his friend. not friends, friend, cause he only had one: bucky, who snarled at you as well.

“pick on someone your own size, if you can find somebody with as big a head as you,” bucky shot back, making you scoff.

“you know, it’s a shame you hang out with this deformed freak, you could’ve been popular. you’ve got the looks for it.”

“I’d rather keep my brains, thanks,” bucky explained as you walked away with your posse of fellow popular kids.

you didn’t used to be so mean to steve. it was sort of a comedy of errors, really. you two had been friends in elementary school-- you, him, and bucky were the rambunctious trio up until middle school.

things change for boys and girls in middle school. guys just get along with each other and don’t think about it much. girls, though... girls need to be sharp. it’s eat or be eaten. and you wanted to eat.

you were lucky that you developed early. it meant that girls respected you and boys feared you-- not just for your attractive features but for the fact that you loomed a foot over most of them.

you started to take advantage of it. and by the time you realized you had feelings for your best friend steve, it was already too late-- he was at the bottom of the food chain and you were at the top.

you told your new girl friends that you wanted to take steve to the sadie hawkins. they laughed at you. for a moment, you felt what it was like to be outcast and you never wanted to feel it again. so, you told steve and bucky that you’d grown apart. and you were happy to just be former friends...

it was steve that started it. he called you out. he told you that you were nothing like who he used to know-- you had become vapid and cold and narcissistic.

“you’re so busy worrying about what other people think, you never take the time to think for yourself.” that was what he said. and it fucking hurt.

“saw you talking to your boyfriend steve the dweeb,” your friend tanya announced at lunch just a few minutes after that conversation. and you were angry, and hurt, and truly friendless despite being surrounded by other popular girls. so you said some things you could never take back.

“steve? as if. did you know he still sleeps with a security blanket? and he has his friend bucky fight for him every week cause if he took a punch he’d crumble to dust?”

and so, mortal enemies were formed. it only got worse in high school, as you fought to secure your title at the top while steve and bucky’s presence filled your heart with guilt and your gut with anger.

if only you’d known how quickly you could fall from your high horse.

it started when you dated tanya’s ex, brock. she was made so she spread a rumor that you would fuck any guy on the football team, even all of them at once.

apparently, a lot of people believed it since tanya had been your sidekick since 6th grade.

two football players believed it. and when you wouldn’t follow through on it, you got yourself a black eye.

that meant you missed school for a week because you couldn’t possibly show up looking like that. tanya told everyone it was because you got grounded and sent away to church camp after your parents caught you in bed with one of the neighbors. so now your reputation was ‘sleeps with football players and old men.’

only brock had been there for you.... but it turned out he had motives of his own. you had originally planned to wait until college, but brock was clearly wanting something in return for putting up with dating pariah #1... so you let him take your virginity.

the condom broke. when you dashed to the trash can to hurl in the middle of history class, you knew something was wrong. (and lost that many more social points in the process.)

brock dumped you the second he found out you were pregnant. didn’t even help you pay for the abortion. he got back together with tanya and told her the real reason for your ‘medical absence’. and that was the last straw for the former homecoming queen.

the humiliation drove you to some.... poor choices, for the next few years. you tried not to think about them now, but it was hard not to when their consequences were staring you right in the face: no money, no job, nearly homeless, and desperate.

over a hundred job applications later, only one had called you back and scheduled an interview. and you only needed one.

so there you were, waiting in the chilly lobby area while the receptionist typed away and chomped her gum, tapping your toes and glancing out the window occasionally.

you were surprised when you had been told your interview would be on the 51st floor. you sort of assumed it would just be some random manager interviewing you, not somebody important enough to have a waiting room like this, or a view like this.

when a man stepped out from the nearby hallway, your eyes went wide. he was tall, and handsome, and obviously muscular underneath the exquisite suit. you suddenly felt underdressed in your hand-me-down business clothes.

then he called your name. and you realized he was going to interview you.

you stood up and nodded. “you can follow me to my office,” he instructed with a smile, leading you down the hall to the corner office. you were in awe of the grandiosity of it all. you were dumbfounded when you saw CEO on the door.

“there must have been a mistake,” you explained as he shut the door behind you. “I... I’m just interviewing for an entry-level position.”

“no, there’s no mistake,” he shook his head, “I have you exactly where I want you. take a seat.”

he circled his desk and sat on the other side of it, resting his elbows on the desk and giving you an oddly smug smile. an awkward silence was finally broken when he realized, “you must not remember me.”

“I... have we met?”

“I don’t blame you, I look pretty different,” he shrugged. “I must’ve grown a whole inch this summer.”

you gave him a confused look before realization dawned on you, along with shame, and fear.

“oh... oh my god, Steve?!” you squawked. he just grinned. “you look... you look...”

“taller?”

sexy.

“you look great!” you said aloud instead.

“yeah,” he agreed, “wish I could say the same for you.”

you swallowed dryly. “so that’s what you want,” you sighed, “to get back at me. I understand. I deserve it...”

“I don’t want revenge,” he denied. “I’m just sorry to see you haven’t been... thriving, since high school. your job history--” he scanned your resume briefly-- “well, you don’t have one. have you been slumming it all this time?”

“without my parents’ money? yeah,” you admitted.

“surprised you applied here, instead of turning tricks on 5th and Columbus.”

your back straightened and your eyes went wide at that comment.

“I mean, you’re already dressed for it,” he smirked.

you stood up and crossed your arms. “if you’re just going to insult me, then I’ll leave now. I’m sorry for everything I did to you, steve,” you announced, voice shaky with oncoming tears.

“can you really afford to leave?” he pressed. “if you have a chance at a job?”

that, unfortunately, got your attention. “you... you might actually offer me something?”

“I will offer you something,” he corrected, “if you just sit down and listen.”

you relented, returning to your seat. you could stand a lot more insults if there was money on the line.

“to be honest, there’s no way I can hire you for the position you applied for,” he sighed. “you’re just underqualified. but I think I can create a position for you.”

you liked the sound of that. “what kind of position?”

“well, that’s tricky, seeing as you don’t have any skills,” he frowned, “except one. so that’s the one I plan on using.”

the look in his eyes made it all too clear what he was referring to, but as you shrunk into the leather chair he went ahead and clarified.

“I’ll pay you whatever salary you saw in the ad. but you won’t be doing data analysis or office management or anything like that. all you’ll be doing is spreading your legs for me whenever I fucking want.”

fear shot up your spine; his eyes were devouring you, pinning you to the chair, and you tried to process that. “I--”

“before you say anything,” he interrupted immediately, “let’s just be perfectly clear that this might be your only shot at a real job. what I’m offering has better pay than stripping, and better benefits than hooking. and unless you have any education or experience I don’t know about, you’re totally fucked.”

“seems like I’m fucked either way,” you mumbled, making him laugh.

“see, you’ve still got that sharp tongue,” he grinned. “can’t wait to put it to better use.”

maybe it was just desperation for cash. maybe it was because he was good-looking and you could do a lot worse. maybe it was because, on some level, you felt like you deserved his punishment after how horribly you’d treated him.

“I’ll do it,” you sighed. “when do I start?”

he stood up and reached across the desk to grab your neck, glaring at you. “right now.”

his free hand was already fumbling with his belt, the one on your throat guiding you downwards. “on your knees,” he instructed, and you slipped out of the chair and onto the floor.

he let go of your neck and you figured he was going to come to you, but instead he stood still and demanded: “crawl.”

debasing as it was, you crawled on your knees to his side of the desk, and he laughed at you bitterly. when you reached his feet and popped back up, you gasped at the sight of his hard cock right in front of your face. it was bigger than your face. and it was dripping precum.

“don’t get so bug-eyed, you can handle it,” he grinned. “if your mouth’s as big as I remember...”

you didn’t want to hear any more. you just wanted to get this over with, so you quickly took his head between your lips and started to suck. you were shocked when he slapped you, hard enough to knock his length from your mouth and to make you reach up and clutch your stinging cheek.

“fucking whore,” he grimaced, “did I say you could put it in your mouth? god, you’re so fucking desperate. just open your fucking mouth and I’ll show you what I want, okay?”

you nodded and stammered an apology, looking up at him with watery eyes and an open mouth. he swiped the latest drop of precum on your tongue before gliding his cock over it, grabbing your hair to keep you steady as he pushed himself to the back of your throat.

“fuck, that’s better,” he sighed. “so much better when you just do what you’re told. I remember how you used to be so cruel with this mouth. now you’re being so welcoming...”

you just sat there and let him use your mouth, trying not to gag when he hit your throat.

“look up at me,” he instructed, “yeah, that’s it. can’t have you forgetting who’s doing this to you, now can we?”

that went on for a bit longer until mascara-stained tears streaked your face, which he seemed rather proud of.

“damn, wouldn’t mind having you swallow my come right now,” he admitted, “but I have bigger plans. get up, bend over my desk.”

you coughed briefly when he pulled out, but did as you were told. he instantly yanked your skirt up over your ass and spanked you several times roughly, making you sob and whine.

“wanna see this ass all bruised up in the shape of my hand,” he explained. “so we can both remember how hard I fucked you.”

he tore your panties like they were paper, chuckling when he found you already wet.

“dripping already, just from choking on my cock? poor baby...”

you spread your legs slightly, though you were sure nothing was going to adequately prepare you for his size.

“you figured out how to use birth control since graduating, right?” he asked, and you nodded quickly. “good. cause I’m not using a condom,” he continued as he let his cock glide over your folds, groaning slightly, “and there’s no way in hell I’m pulling out.”

he pushed forward in one brutal stroke, making you cry out loudly. you really hoped these rooms were mostly soundproof.

“shit, you’re tight,” he hissed, already pulling back and thrusting back in. “clearly you recovered from your years of slutting it up in high school.”

“that-- that wasn’t true,” you defended.

“oh, just shut up,” he growled.

he fucked you fast and deep, his hips pushing yours into the edge of his desk with each thrust. his hands pinned you down at your shoulders, another reminder that you were entirely at his mercy.

“fuck, this is just what you needed... somebody to put you in your place. makes sense that it should be me, since you hated me so much.”

“I didn’t h-hate you,” you hiccuped.

“yeah, you wanted me, didn’t you?”

“always,” you admitted.

“wanted my fat fuckin’ cock to tear up your pussy? is that it?”

“yes,” you moaned, “yes, steve, wanted to be yours.”

“even when I was skinny and short?”

“even when you hated me,” you added.

he growled slightly and you felt your walls tighten around him suddenly. he chuckled, clearly aware that you were enjoying this.

“you want more, baby? want me to fuck you harder?”

“whatever you want,” you answered instead. “just use me however you want.”

he moaned and leaned down to cage your body in with his. “fuck, baby... you’re taking this better than I thought you would. such a good girl for me, huh? such a good little slut. want me to use you, baby? take all my anger out on you?”

“yes,” you whispered, sobbing when he began to fuck you more brutally than you thought possible. but it felt good. so good that your legs were shaking, so good that you felt even better when he tugged your hair.

“yeah, gonna come on my cock, aren’t you?”

you nodded and bit your lip.

“m’ close too,” he admitted, “you’re gonna be so full of my come, it’s gonna be dripping down your legs when you walk out of here...”

your orgasm made your body shake and your eyes roll back.

“fuck, I can feel you coming,” he groaned, “fuck, just like that-- fuck!”

you felt his warmth fill you as his cock flexed against your walls. you were busy trying to catch your breath when he slumped down on top of you and pushed the air from your lungs.

“damn... didn’t think I was gonna come that fast,” he sighed. “see what you do to me? fuck, I knew this was a good idea.”

sure, it felt good, but you were sure he was only going to get rougher and meaner the longer this went on. you couldn’t imagine how you were going to get out of here without somebody noticing your wrinkled clothes, messed-up hair and, as he’d pointed out himself, come all over your thighs.

“guess I’ll see you at 8am tomorrow, huh?” he chuckled, giving you an unexpected peck on the cheek. you couldn’t answer, though, interrupted by the phone on his desk ringing. “oh, sorry, gotta get this.”

he reached for the phone and picked it up, bringing to his ear all without pulling out of you or even lifting his body from on top of yours.

“bucky, hey,” steve grinned as he spoke into the phone, looking down at you and stroking your hair, “you’re not gonna believe who I ran into today...”

#dark!steve rogers x reader #ceo!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers hc #dark!steve rogers smut #Anonymous

644 notes · View notes

mehbzz · 3 years

Text

Soft Whitney. Nothing in my head but soft Whitney. So a little Degrees of Lewdity fanfic drabble, no smut. abusive relationships, abusive parents and mc suffering from trauma and probably more than a little Stockholm syndrome. mentions previous sexual assault. I guess a more ooc Whitney.

not proofread just rambled.

You’re not sure why Whitney had wanted you along. He’d grabbed you as you were leaving school and dragged you into town with his friends but they’d all been pretty much ignoring you for the past half an hour as they smoked and joked and harassed the people passing by.

Not that you minded being ignored, you had been nervous and on edge around Whitney for the past week and you wondered if he’d finally noticed. Every movement and gesture he made towards you had been making you anxious. You were still not sure what you had done to deserve the punishment of being tied up and left to be gangraped by the sailors, but every since you’d been making yourself almost ill in effort to be as well behaved and as submissive as you could be. You didn’t want to go through that again. You didn’t think you could survive going through that again. You didn’t realise you’d zoned out completely until you notice Whitney in front of you, saying your name as he reaches for you, and you flinch violently backwards.

He pauses, surprise, anger and something else flicking across his face before he loops his arm around your shoulders and turns back to his friends.

“Got my slut to entertain me today, don't need you guys.” He leads you away, the mixed jeers and cheers from his friends fading as he walks you in silence towards to the beach. The panic reignites in your gut, the feeling of the rope around your wrists and the jeers of the sailors springing painfully to the front of your mind at the sounds of the waves. Before the panic can ignite into a full blown attack Whitney steers you to the left, disappearing into the very edge of the park, through a brambled mess of branches and into a well hidden secluded little glade. He lets you look around for a second. It’s a tiny clearing, a large tree in the middle, its branches causing shafts of sunlight to ripple across the ground. It’s quiet too; the distant sound of the sea and the gentle sound of birdsong is all you can really hear. He shoves you forward, ending your appraisal of the area and you stumble, only just catching yourself from going face first into the trunk of tree.

He winces as he sits down, and you feel flair of sympathy but know better than to mention it. You've only ever seen Whitney’s father from a distance but you know he shares Bailey's fondness for physical reprimands. The one time you'd tried to talk to Whitney about it he'd lashed out immediately, shoving his cock so roughly down your throat, you’d been in pain for days and you'd ended up going to see Dr Harper worried he'd actually injured you.

Whitney sits still, head tilted back to rest against the tree and his eyes closed. He looks handsome, blonde hair a scruffy mess and you stand there awkwardly still a little shaky from the panicked adrenaline, torn between sitting with him and trying to run. You're not sure which would earn you the bigger punishment.

"Sit."

He opens one eye as you cautiously sit down next to him, shoulders not quite touching, and smirks at you. "good puppy." It's patronising, teasing, but the paltry praise still sends a warm little frisson through you that you try to ignore.

Whitney closes his eyes again, an unlit cigarette rolling between his long slender fingers. It’s beauiful here, peaceful, but you're still anxious. Why did he bring you here? You had been expecting to get fucked in all honesty, but this area felt way too secluded for Whitney’s exhibitionist streak.

The click of his tongue piercing against his teeth let's you know he's getting frustrated, probably annoyed, and you tense, bracing yourself for whatever pain was going to come your way.

“Just fucking relax,” he sounds angry, and more than a little uncertain, the click of the silver ball increasing in frequency. "I usually come here when I need a break from all the bullshit."

You are glad he's not looking at you, as the shock written across your face at his vulnerable admission would have undoubtedly earned you a rough punishment. In fact you think he's doing his hardest not to look at you, face tilted to the side and eyes tightly closed. You don’t know how to respond. This is his safe place? And he’s sharing it with you? “It's nice here.” It’s a pathetic response but you don’t know what else to say. He doesn't acknowledge you and you shift a little closer until your shoulders are touching. You feel him relax at the small touch and he finally places the cigarette in his mouth, shifting till he finds his lighter and lights it with a small satisfied hum. If he is closer to you after his shifting around, his leg and thigh touching yours, you don't mention it. The pair of you sit silently for a few minutes, the warm sunshine starting to make you feel drowsy.

"Don't leave. I won't do it again." It's mumbled quietly under his breath, he even stutters slightly and for the second time in the space of 10 minutes you feel stunned by his behaviour. Whitney’s moods often gave you whiplash but this was something new.

"OK." You practically whisper back but again you're not sure what else to say. "Thank you." You probably shouldn’t have to be thanking your boyfriend for not selling you off to a bunch of sailors, but he sounds so vulnerable, so unsure, so unlike himself that your mind is too shocked to offer you any other response.

The clicking of his tongue stud continues. It's the biggest giveaway to his real mood that you'll ever have. Running it along his teeth is something he does when he's genuinely stressed or frustrated. You don't think he's aware he does it and you've never brought it up in case it takes away the only indicator you have to his true feelings.

You’re hit with the desperate need to reassure him, but you know any words you offer will immediately be thrown back in your face, so you opt for a more subtle approach. You let your hands relax on your thighs and rest your head on his shoulder. He freezes for a split second at the contact but soon relaxes again, and thankfully he doesn't shove you off. The clicking sound stops as well.

"Tell anyone and I'll think of something worse than a gang of lonely sailors."

It’s a cruel but half hearted threat, a instinctive reaction to protect himself against appearing weak or soft so you don't reply and just nod, not wanting to ruin the fragile moment. You have no doubt insecurity and embarrassment will change his mood in a while, probably forcing you into some public sexual act in an attempt to reassure himself of his dominance over you and you want to enjoy the peace while you can. He switches the cigarette to his other hand and hesitantly wraps his pinky loosely around yours. You desperately want to link your fingers together but you know when you’re pushing your luck, so you sit quiet, content to let him push himself outside of his comfort zone without fear of reprimand or acknowledgement. It’s an odd talent you’d found yourself developing, the ability to comfort and encourage him without him realising you are doing either of those things. At least not yet.

He finishes his cigarette slowly, giving you the chance to doze off on his shoulder. "You better not have drooled on me." The confidence is back in his voice and you feel an odd mix of disappointed and content as he shoves you off him, still surprisingly gentle.

He dusts his hands off on your jeans and you pretend to ignore the pained noise he makes as he rises, looking away as he presses a hand to his ribs. “Get up then,” There's a pink tinge to his cheeks as you look up at him, and he's definitely avoiding eye contact with you as he holds out a hand to help you up. You take his hand but push yourself up, you don’t want to cause him anymore discomfort. You stand there holding his hand and you think for a split second that he’s going to kiss you, but you realise that’s too much gentleness for Whitney in too little amount of time as he smirks, and flicks your forehead hard instead. "c’mon slut, let's go to the pub."

#degrees of lewdity #dol #degrees of lewdity whitney #whitney #fanfiction

100 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

earned it [07]

cw. explicit smut, pool sex, slight angst, i miss naoya :(, mafia business, mentions of blood, lots of drama, mentions of death and murder

note. IDEK ANYMORE. lmao anyways do you guys want faster updates or do you guys want to wait? i can finish the series next week and then we can move on to white lies 😈

series masterlist

The three of you were seated back at your tables, where the whole dancing fiasco had thankfully ended. Satoru noticed nothing of your behavior – either he was really clueless, or you were a damn good actor – the guy was much too invested with the files Nanami was currently showing.

For a moment, you let yourself loosen as you took a deep breath. The account was much more important than whatever Nanami was scheming.

“I think I may have found where the real money is, or treasure, we should say, since none of us can really figure out what the Zen’ins might be hiding. And from the looks of it, considering Naoya had no idea about what his family kept prior to his death, this is something only his elders wanted to know about,” Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding a photo of an unsuspecting white manor that you hadn’t seen in a long time. “And it’s been right under our nose the whole time.”

“That’s one of our islands,” you replied with a furrowed brow, “Are you saying you traced the source back there? But that’s impossible, we haven’t used that island for years and even Naoya told me he was going to sell it because it was of no use to us. It’s not on commercial waters and there’s no local people around either. That island is in the middle of nowhere.”

“This is exactly why it’s the best place to hide things – because no one would ever suspect this seemingly harmless middle of nowhere could contain their assets.”

Satoru, who’d kept silent the whole time, inched closer to you. His cologne wafting off to you eased you for a moment – purely because it was familiar – and even though you despised saying it, you were thankful he was here. Currently, the blond man posed a bigger threat, the difference being that Nanami actually had leverage against you while you had more control over Satoru.

You sighed. If Naoya was here, things would’ve been so much better. He never lost his composure in figuring things out on his own. But now that he was gone, now that he’d never be coming back, you had be responsible for his sake, but mostly for yours.

“Take a look at this. The nearest land is a small, uncharted city from Brazil’s outskirts. I’ve been illegally transporting weaponry and firearms somewhere near there since our family started the business – it’s the easiest place to sneak in things without getting caught. All you need to do is pay a few fishermen and they’ll easily transport our load from one place to another, no questions asked,” Satoru announced, seemingly deep in thought as he rubbed his chin. “It would make sense if the Zen’in clan elders found this place useful too. It’s basically a hot site for criminals.”

“But we don’t operate this way. The Zen’in elders are too prideful to handle transactions like this. They would’ve chosen a more…discreet yet formal way of handling things.”

“How does an underwater passage sound?” Nanami pushed the other photo aside to reveal a blurry snap of what seemed like a tunnel under the sea. On the surface, it looked just like an abandoned rig, but it stretched too long, the exterior already covered in mold and seaweed. “About 80 years ago, the Zen’in Clan leader at that time was often heavily targeted by their enemies in business that they preferred to travel under the sea. If my theory is correct, right under that island would be another base of some sort that allows the clan leaders move from one country to another while remaining undetected.”

“So that’s how they easily sent their own shit overseas…”

“It would be a very sound conclusion to assume so,” Nanami crossed his arms at Satoru’s musings, “However, that’s all I know. All I can tell you is where I last got the signal for the source – which is about seven years ago, and a few months right after Toji Zen’in was disowned by his family when Naobito took over. It would also be near around the time he met his wife and had his child, which would increase the possibilities that he may have stored something in this island for his son’s future. Again, it could be money, gold – we don’t really know,” he nodded your way, a sense of finality behind those blue eyes that had now looked so menacing when once it brought you comfort – reassurance. “How you get there is all up to you.”

Something didn’t feel right.

“If the elders really wanted to hide this place, they wouldn’t have passed the rights of the island into my inheritance when Naoya died. They surely wouldn’t have wanted me to find out about this.”

“I could think of two things,” Satoru proposed, “It’s either they trust your potential enough as the clan leader to replace Naoya, or they didn’t think you’d care anyway.”

You let his words sink in. The clan elders have never bothered much with you. They were too prideful about “saving face” and “keeping up images” that they couldn’t even let a word of insult slip past their lips under the belief they were above that. But you weren’t stupid; they had never approved of your marriage to Naoya. An outsider like you, suddenly becoming a part of their family when they could’ve had your husband marry a family friend?

They may have kept silent about their dislike to you, but one way or another, they were going to take action for it.

Knowing the Zen’ins, being a Zen’in, you knew there was one thing they hated the most: not being in control.

“Neither,” you finally concluded while mumbling down at your lap. The theory was hazy, incomplete, based only on mere emotions but slowly, you were coming together to piece it. You felt Satoru turn your way, his large hand caressing your knee as if coaxing the words out of you. “It’s neither. Naoya’s elders…they never liked me. It’s been made pretty clear to me that I’m dispensable without my husband, and I will never be a Zen’in in their eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked me to give up all my inheritance from Naoya because I’m not related to them by blood.”

The silence in the table stretched.

No matter how grandiose the hotel restaurant may be, you felt suffocated in that seat. How didn’t you realize it sooner? You were in a land that stretched past your territory, with both men accompanying you people you couldn’t wholeheartedly trust, while your husband rotted away back at home – probably covered in dust and not even given a proper burial like he deserved.

There was only one way out of this, to put an end to everything. It would prove to be a daunting task, but you didn’t have a choice. No, in fact, this was your only choice if you wanted to survive.

Satoru’s voice softened upon seeing the grimness of how you turned mum. “I’ll follow you wherever you go. I promise to help you in finding out whatever is in there,” he met your eyes; yours filled with contempt, with fear, with desperation, and his filled with regret. “It’s the least I could do…after everything I’ve done to you.”

You took a deep breath.

You couldn’t lie to yourself. There was no way you could trust him with his empty promises. He’d shown enough times that he wasn’t a man of his word, and you’d be a fool to fall for it again. However, Nanami’s glance was curious and suspecting, hiding his true colors with an innocent gesture of sipping his wine. He may seem unbothered and only here to ‘help’, but this man was cunning, possibly more so than Naoya could ever be, and one wrong move would be similar to stepping on a land mine.

Satoru received no response from you, and soon the three of you were standing outside the hotel’s lobby to escort Nanami back where he came from. The dinner was tense, so much so that you’d unknowingly been clutching Satoru’s bicep the whole time.

He tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to life as he gestured to his phone. “Sorry, it’s Geto.”

“Oh,” you muttered and stepped away from him, feeling your heart sink in your chest as you watched him retreat behind the glass doors. Beside you, Nanami snickered.

“Made up your mind, agent?” he taunted, “This is your final chance to prove yourself. Gather enough intel for us to intrude whatever that mighty clan is hiding underneath that island, surrender Gojo to us, and we’ll give you everything as promised.”

You faced him with fiery eyes, prepared for whatever he’d throw your way when he showed you that cursed red coin again. Realizing its power, the true meaning it held, you immediately shut your lips. It must’ve satisfied to know he was the one in charge here, and how could he not be when your life was literally at the palm of his hands, your days growing more numbered if you didn’t follow everything he asked for?

If you had just…if you had just done everything the Organization had asked you for, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have felt this torn.

Nanami flipped the coin before tucking it into his pocket, sending one last salute your way. He hailed a cab and disappeared afterwards, leaving you alone to ponder over the consequences of your actions, your emotions. For the first time in his life, Naoya had lied to you.

He wasn’t correct when he said you were strong.

Because after all this time, you still held onto something that you should’ve let go of a long time ago, and you had nothing but your weak, sensitive, hopeless heart to blame for. Said hurdle appeared not long afterwards, his touch warm on your shoulder as he gazed at the empty spot beside you.

“Oh, Nanami left,” he noted, turning your shoulders to him until you were completely exposed. There was no more hiding from him, or more like you didn’t have enough energy to. You felt dull, tiredness lining your eyes and lips pressed into a flat line. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Ten days. That was how much you’ve wasted your time here in Milan, and you weren’t even remotely close to figuring things out. Your resources were much more limited the farther you were from the Zen’in Estate, and your lawyer was a family one, meaning they held more loyalty to the actual Zen’ins instead of law-affiliated people like you were.

Simply put, you were all alone to solve this by yourself.

Satoru promised to help, but he kept disappearing in the morning along with Geto. You never asked where they went or what they did; it simply didn’t matter anymore.

You would only spend hours locked in your room as you researched everything you could on your private island near Brazil. Just like Satoru said, it seemed like the perfect place to hide things for the spot seemed remote enough to offer privacy for the family’s getaway. You could somewhat recall Naoya proposing once to take you there for your honeymoon, but business got in the way, and it wasn’t like you truly trusted him then to spend such an intimate with him that you said no.

Sighing, you put all the papers away. Not even a single clue led you to what could be possibly be there, but there was an underwater passage. The fact the Zen’ins was capable of building that made you wonder just what the extent of their powers and influence stretched to, and you contemplated for a bit if you could hold that same ability now that you had his name.

Whatever was there, you would look for it.

Your mission was clear – the success of it would determine the fate of your life. Find out what they’re hiding, surrender Satoru Gojo to the Organization, and then everything would be over.

It sounded simple, yet your heart knew it wasn’t. Naoya died with the confidence of his trust over you, the trust you worked so hard to earn. But wasn’t that point? You needed him to trust you for you to be able to pull this mission off, but things happened, emotions and conscience got in the way, and you banged your knuckles on the table until your ring throbbed on your finger.

You just wanted it all to end. You never meant to hurt Naoya, never meant to betray anyone, but it fucking pissed you off that Naoya wasn’t the real problem. He wasn’t the one holding you back.

With not much thought to your next actions, you slipped past the guards and into the pool that had long been closed since 10PM. Being at your room’s tub reminded you of memories you’d rather forget, and you slowly undid your robe and stepped out of your underwear before dipping in the cold, freezing water.

It felt good. It may have been temporary, but the numbing bite of the water helped you feel more placated. Even for a little while, it was nice to not worry about anything. There were no titles, no mafia drama, no anything, just you and the water that you would’ve easily fooled yourself to be simply enjoying your little trip in Milan until –

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You had me worried sick,” You sighed. Of course. Opening your eyes, you raised a brow as Satoru towered over you, a standard hotel towel in his arms. He’d change out of his suit and into cotton shorts and a shirt this time around, possibly on his way to sleep when he realized the room was empty. With no energy to deal with him, you swam away from the man, earning a groan in response. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting weird ever since Nanami came. Listen, if this is about that island, you don’t have to worry too much about anything. I have enough people and resources to help you in every step of the way.”

You ignored him. After everything that happened, what was there to talk about anymore? Even if you told him everything, he might not understand.

So you swam in the middle of the pool, thankful that it was dark enough from the maintenance shutting the lights off that Satoru struggled to find you. However, you’d underestimated him because soon you heard the splashing of the water, and you were harshly tugged by the wrist before Satoru cornered you at the edge of the pool.

He was breathing hard; both of you were, and tried to push past his chest, only to be met with a solid plane of muscle that wouldn’t budge. You sighed and turned away from him, covering your exposed chest with your arms.

“Whatever Naoya is looking for…you’ll find it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious,” the scorn in his tone had been so biting you turned back to him, about to hit him with something, scold him for something, but your words died down in your throat before you even had the chance to.

Satoru hadn’t been demanding. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, made his azure eyes twinkle like stardust exploding. Once in your life, you found so much comfort into staring at such beauty, but that was when everything was still a perfect lie. Funny how the truth ruined everything for its darkness, and you could only look back at him weakly, throat running dry from all the emotions that threatened to pour out of you.

Regret and desperation was written all over his face.

“Please,” he rested his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he mumbled, “You’re not alone in this. I don’t want to ask for much because I know I don’t deserve it, but please at least understand you don’t have to solve everything on your own. You’re not…you’re not alone. I’m here now.”

“When you left me,” your voice cracked, “It’s because you thought I wouldn’t love you anymore if I found out your true nature,” Satoru opened his eyes, anxiety swimming in those eyes that had once been so sweet. Perhaps he still held that sweetness now, albeit it was less tender and more cautious as he waited for you to continue. “If I told you about every sin I’ve committed, the name of each person I killed and everything I’ve done, would you stay with me? Or would you leave me again, only this time it’s because you think I’m no longer someone you could love?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” was all you said before you felt a tear prick the back of your eyes. You didn’t want him to see, god, you wanted to disappear in that moment you couldn’t think of anything else. Crashing your lips to his, you brought him down by the back of his neck to hide the tears freely falling from your face.

He froze for a split second before he eagerly pushed back, clenching the pool edges with his hands so hard his knuckles turned white. You were panting, moaning in his mouth as he pressed you harder against the edge, skin to skin, breath to breath, soul to soul.

Threading your hands to his hair, you grinded down on his shorts where he was already beginning to grow hard. Satoru groaned inside your mouth from your teasing but made no move to stop to – after all, why would he want to stop? It had been years, seven fucking years, and even you wouldn’t want to stop. It was wrong, it was dirty, it was immoral – but you needed this. You needed this more than ever.

Satoru’s hands tickled your waist as he squeezed them harsher than he intended, his calloused fingers travelling until he was kneading your breasts. You pulled away from him, head thrown back to rest on the edge.

And it was romantic.

The moon had never been so big, sprinkles of star shining in the vast darkness, the scene just perfect for two lovers in a getaway from the harshness of life. You knew it wasn’t real and the spell would break sooner than later, but did it matter? He rolled your beaded nipples into his fingers before he ducked down, lips suctioned to suck heavy bruises on the sensitive patch of skin on your neck that had you twitching in his hold.

Along with your moans, you cried harder. From heartbreak, from regret, from guilt; there was no turning back from this.

“Satoru, please, please, please. Make me feel better, make me feel good, I just want to forget everything.”

He nodded eagerly against your neck, letting your eager hands help him push his shorts down before his cock sprang free. His length grazed your lower abdomen for a moment, though he didn’t waste any time in entering your hole. You gritted your teeth at the intrusion, nails dug so hard in his shoulders that he bled.

The both of you had your foreheads connected, noses brushing and breaths mixing as you moaned and he sighed, eyes shut tight from finally being engulfed in your warmth.

“Right there, ‘Toru, oh fuck.”

“F-fuck,” he hitched one of your legs to wrap around his waist, “You’re still so tight after all this time,” Satoru praised, molding his lips with yours once again. He picked up his pace and watched as you desperately clung from one surface to another – his shoulders, his hair, the edge of the pool, flailing your arms each time his deep thrusts knocked the wind out of you – breasts bouncing as he bounced you on his cock.

“You look so fucking beautiful – my sweet, sweet angel. I missed you, missed you so fucking much.”

You didn’t say anything. No words were needed to be exchanged; actions spoke louder than words. At least right now, you could promise you wouldn’t lie.

Pulling him down for another kiss, you bit down on his bottom lip to muffle your moans, too speechless at each movement of his dick grazing past your walls. Fuck, he still felt so good, still knew your body way too well and your pussy hugged him so tight like you didn’t ever want to let go.

But you knew you had to, even as he came inside you and brought you back to your room, uncaring of the dripping mess you’ve both made before he locked the door.

You forgot how many hours you spent underneath him writhing in his bed. He took you each way he wanted – knees folded beside your head, on your side where he whispered all the filthy things he’d been wanting to do to you while he took you from behind, or your head squished on the pillow as he repeatedly smacked your ass, pulling your ass cheeks apart to praise you on how you took him so well. Satoru didn’t stop; you knew what you were getting into the moment you pulled him into you, that his sex drive was insane and he’d take long to tire himself out.

By the time the first shy fingertips of the sunlight extending across the horizon arrived, you were emptily staring at the window, Satoru fast asleep beside you.

It was time.

Silently, you pulled his arm away from you and quickly got dressed. He seemed to still be deep in slumber, and you carried the only bag previously packed with everything you might need. You were on the process of wearing your stilettos when he stirred awake, sleepily eyeing you from the bed you both devoted yourselves to in pleasuring one another.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” you answered, tight-lipped. “From you.”

“Why?”

“Because…I lied,” you inhaled sharply, gloved hands frozen on the golden knobs.

Just open it, you screamed at yourself, walk away before it’s too late.

But you couldn’t move, pathetic that even after everything Naoya had worked so hard for, you still remained a slave to your past.

“No matter how much I hate everything you’ve done to me, I can’t bring myself to forget I once loved you. Maybe I still do – I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” you cried, losing grip on the bag before it fell. You watched emptily as all the contents poured out – your money, your clothes, your phone, your ring – it all served as a reminder of who you were, of who you’d forgotten to be, of who you were supposed to be.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I don’t have enough strength to kill you.”

“Hey, angel,” he cooed, reaching you in three long strides before he caged you in his arms. Satoru was so warm, so strong, and the safety he provided you with only made you cry harder. You wanted to hate him, wanted to keep lying yourself since you’d been doing a great job at doing that for the past seven years, but it wasn’t that easy. Deep down…you still harbored the most miniscule affection, and that enough was capable of destroying you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you whispered brokenly as you banged a weak fist to his chest, “Everything is wrong.”

Finavice Pharmaceuticals didn’t disappoint.

You were beyond impressed the moment you stepped through the door, a horde of eager chemists guiding you through the upper floors. Finavice was one of the biggest – if not the biggest – companies that were known for harboring the rarest or hard to get elements that not even you and Naoya could get your hands on.

Not by yourselves, anyway, so you took it upon yourself to strike a sponsorship to their research program in developing a cure to cancer under the guise of being an advocate to the improvement of the medical field.

Truthfully, you just wanted to please Naoya, show him you were useful and that he didn’t need to kill you. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and there you were, your prettiest smile plastered on as you scanned the towering buildings with unmasked interest.

“Here is the laboratory for the Finavice Pharmaceuticals where we test…”

“Mrs. Zen’in?”

The entire team stopped as a tall man, cloaked in a beige suit instead of a lab coat appearhed out of nowhere. Judging by how everyone had ducked their heads down and turned silent, you could only guess he must be the boss. Flashing your most charming smile, you hitched your bag higher up your arm. “Yes?”

“May I have a word with you?”

You fought the urge to sigh. His question was spoken much more of a statement that you weren’t really given a room to decline, and the young chemists gazed at you curiously under their lashes.

Not wanting to create a commotion that would lead into unwanted attention, you nodded, following the man through a set of double doors, guarded by two heavily armed men from the outside.

The man, who was Kento Nanami, the founder of Finavice himself leaned back into his seat as he made himself comfortable. “So you signed a contract with us two weeks ago to partner on our latest medicine, am I right? I’ve read over your proposals and I must say, they are rather interesting and innovative. I didn’t expect that a businessman’s wife would be a chemist who is interested in expanding to the pharmaceuticals as well. The Zen’ins has never been much invested in that.”

Gladly accepting the tea he’d slid your way, you made sure to clink the teaspoon against the porcelain as you played along. “People change, Mr. Kento. My husband and I’s goals are rather different from their former, traditional ones. Surely, steel exchange couldn’t support us for the rest of our lives.”

“I can’t say no to that. Kudos to you and your husband for your rather…ambitious shared goals then.”

Your hand froze on the utensil, and you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. “Are you implying we should not have trusted you with this, Mr. Kento?”

“No, I am merely letting you know that your act won’t fool me,” he chuckled, leaning forwards to rest his chin on his clasped knuckles, his blue eyes growing dark and serious. “I know what you and your husband’s family does. The Organization knows a lot more about your actions than you think you know we do. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re only here because we’re the only company who has access to an element you need for your drug, isn’t that the case, Mrs. Zen’in?”

Well…this was certainly unexpected. You’ve been effortlessly deceiving countless businessmen, government leaders and officials even, that this took you by your surprise. Two could play at this game.

Even if he saw through you long ago, it wouldn’t take much to grab his letter opener that was right beside you and puncture it through a jugular vein. If his guards came, you could easily take them down too. Today was one of those few moments you were thankful for Naoya’s hellish training.

But you didn’t want him to feel satisfied, so you leaned back into your seat and crossed your leg over the other.

“If you knew this whole time, why didn’t you kill me already? A lot of people wouldn’t miss the chance to do so.”

Nanami chuckled. “It’s because like you, I’m not just a pioneer. I, too, have my goals and loyalty laid out for someone else. Most specifically, the Organization, an international collaborative effort of stopping and reducing mafia movement for the safety of our people. Obviously, I’ve been assigned in the Yakuza Division, and it’s no coincidence I read through your file. You are, after all, one of our precious targets.”

You stared at him boredly. Why couldn’t he just get straight to the point?

“Is this a threat? I’m not sure it’s working.”

“Oh, no, I’m not threatening you,” he snatched your tea and took a long sip from it, and it was the first time you learned of his habit of concealing his curious gaze through drinking; a perfect act to seem inconspicuous.

“I am offering you a path to redemption. You may fool everyone, but I know an unhappy woman when I see one, Mrs. Zen’in, and I can tell you find no pleasure in the life you live – running errands for your criminal husband, constantly fearing for your life, wishing you’d just been a regular person like everyone else…” At the lack of response, he took it a gesture for him to continue, and he set the cup down, pushing his glasses right back up his nose. “The Organization has labeled you a target, but I think you’re more of a victim caught in a series of unfortunate events. I merely wish to save you from it.”

You guffawed in laughter at his last statement.

“You men really are ridiculous!” you slapped your palm on his table, losing every bit of that elegant composure to be perfected by a Zen’in wife. “Always preaching about saving me and protecting me – what actually are you pathetic losers even capable of?”

Much to your dismay, Nanami didn’t seem the least bit affected by your mockery.

“Please, don’t group me in with your husband and your former lover. Unlike them, I harbor no interest in you as a woman, I only want to fulfill my duty as an Agent and save you not because you’re a damsel in distress, but rather because…I could kill two birds with one stone,” his eyes shone in mischief, and you swallowed in discomfort as he gazed you up and down.

You’ve had enough experience with being seen as a meal, but this was different. Nanami was viewing you like you were a secret weapon he intended on using as much as he could to achieve his goals.

“You are a very convenient woman, Mrs. Zen’in. Similar to how your husband adores your abilities, I would like to take advantage of your connections. The only difference between me and them is that I can actually give you something money can’t even buy.”

“Such as?”

“A second chance at a normal life.”

“What makes you think I’ll accept your offer? I’m the wife of a mafia leader – my loyalty resides in him.”

“Only because you fear for your life,” he flashed you a red coin, crescents of a Latin quote scripted inside. Mori quam foedari – death before dishonor.

“Join the Organization, Y/N. With your connections, we could easily take down these families and protect the country. Hand over Satoru Gojo and Naoya Zen’in to us, and I promise the Organization will do everything in its power to give you the life you always wanted. A safe, normal one. No more worrying about being killed as you ride your car, no more beating yourself up as you make drugs to promise your usefulness to your husband and no more pretending you are someone who you’re not,” he flipped the coin between his fingers, and tantalized, you couldn’t keep your eyes off it. “Don’t you want that? You’d be able to live freely if you cooperate with us.”

You could hear the gears in your head turning. Part of you would’ve assumed this was a trap had you not known better, but Naoya taught you that if something was a trap, it would sound too easy, too good.

None of this was easy. It would require facing a demon from your past and handling things differently than what Naoya had planned, but that wasn’t the worst.

It was the fact that if you accepted, you’d have to come home tonight and lie in the face of your husband who could easily read through you. He smelled lies and treachery before you could realize you were even thinking of doing something, and knowing Naoya, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes the instant he felt something was off.

But his offer… it was a risk you had to take. You wouldn’t ever get an opportunity like this again.

“Do you promise…that I’ll really go back to normal after this? That I won’t be involved in this mess anymore?”

“I can only promise that if you also promise to do your part. You see, I strongly believe you are the one that can put an end to this all. All you have to do is join us, and soon it’ll feel like this nightmare never happened at all. You’ll be free from Naoya Zen’in and Gojo Satoru before you realize it.”

You stared at his coin harder. Death before dishonor. This Organization he was a part of obviously didn’t fuck around, and it seemed scarier because they had their eyes on you for a while now. What were the odds they offered a deal instead of outright killing you, even going as far as to provide you a second chance at life, one that you genuinely wanted to enjoy? It would be a shame to say no, and even if the chances of this turning out well were low, you would damn well take it. A small chance was better than nothing.

“What do I have to do?”

Nanami grinned and pocketed his coin. “A very wise decision, Mrs. Zen’in,” he congratulated, “Please, meet me at my office tomorrow, eight on the dot. Oh, and remember, the Organization will now be watching you wherever you go. You’re one of us now.”

The next day, Nanami had cut your palm.

He spilled your blood into an empty metal casing with engraved letters, mori quam foedari, the phrase both comforting and ominous. Soon, you came home with your blood solidified into a coin to prove your membership and loyalty, that they quite owned you in more ways than one. Your blood meant your loyalty, and the coin felt heavy in your pocket with the implication it was also your blood they wouldn’t hesitate to spill should you betray them.

Mori quam foedari.

Death before dishonor.

Your life over Naoya’s, your future over Gojo’s.

The next few days had been tense. After telling Satoru everything down from the smallest detail, things had shifted between you. Quite frankly, you expected that maybe he’d kill you right then and there after explicitly stating that just because you couldn’t kill him, didn’t mean you wouldn’t turn him in.

“Angel,” he begged, “Will you never really give me the chance to do everything right this time around?”

However, you were too firm on your plans. You originally wanted to leave and go to the island yourself; it was easier to leave Satoru open and vulnerable for the Organization to attack him in your absence. He loved you, that was much clear, and if he looked for you, he’d make himself vulnerable to the Organization, but recent plans had to be altered now that he wasn’t willing to let go of you. Though no matter what he said, you valued your life and future more than you could ever love him.

It was an act of kindness to yourself.

“I don’t want this life anymore, Satoru. Either way, I don’t have a choice, not when I could die literally anytime before I could even say goodbye.”

It had been hours since ‘that’ talk and now you were on a plane back to Tokyo. You had to pull out some archives from Naoya’s files to know more about the island before you could visit it, and it was important for Satoru to know details such as security measures over there.

You’d long fallen asleep from exhaustion, bundled up in a fleece blanket while Geto glared at you.

“Are you sure about this, Sir? I think we should just keep her with us even if she doesn’t want to. The Gojo clan is powerful enough that no one would dare cross us. Not even this Organization she speaks of has ever done anything to us. Without her, they stand no chance against us,” he sat in front his boss and kept sending wary glances your way. “Letting her go like you did before wasn’t a good idea. She knows too much about everyone to live normally now. Do you really believe the Organization will protect her?”

“Knowing the strings the government could pull – and add on to the fact Nanami Kento, one of the richest men in this country works for them that it’s safe to assume each figure in them is a powerhouse – I don’t doubt their promise one bit.”

“But you’ll go to jail if you let her surrender you. Or worse, they’ll destroy the clan from the bottom up.”

“I know that, Geto.”

Geto groaned, brushing his hands through his hair from how indifferent his boss was being, drinking champagne as if he wasn’t willingly walking into his own death. “Then why aren’t you thinking more clearly about this? I understand you love her and you want to make it up to her, but we can’t let her do whatever she pleases! In order to keep herself safe, she’s going to sacrifice you! She’s dangerous, Sir, she’s been lying to her husband the whole time and who’s to say she isn’t capable of doing something worse to a stranger like you?”

“I told you already, Geto,” Satoru swirled the pink liquid in his flute, his face empty and unreadable. “I know.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t agree with your decision. The clan would fall without you and you don’t have siblings or an heir. No one is powerful to hold the clan together aside from you so if you leave – there’s no more hope for us,” he sighed when Satoru didn’t budge. “I at least want you to reconsider your actions. She’s just a woman, Sir. It’s either we kill her or we imprison her. You let her go before because you believed she would be your downfall, and quite frankly, it’s happening all over again.”

Satoru gazed out the window, bringing the flute to his lips with a dark glint in his eye that Geto recognized meant trouble, or worse, an actual solution to this hellish situation.

“Which is why we’re going to pay an old friend a visit, Geto. There’s only one person who could turn the tables around.”

ADDITIONAL NOTE: TOJI IS COMING SOON!!! what are your theories on what might be on that island and *drum roll* WHO IS GOJO’S OLD FRIEND?!

taglist open:

@tete027 @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant @mikiminaccch @riri-marley | bolded users cannot be tagged

375 notes · View notes

scxrlettwxtches · 4 years

Text

a throne of roses | hwang hyunjin

genre: royal au, fluff/angst, fem!reader

warnings: blood, violence, a little suggestive (hehe)

word count: 16.7k+

description: when the king that conquered your country, hwang hyunjin, arranged a marriage for the two of you, not once did you expect to feel any emotion except hatred and bitterness to blossom between you. will you stand to hate your enemy until the end, or will you realize that the cold-hearted ruler is not as cruel as he seemed?

a/n: im back!! im so sorry to have been gone so long. i suffered a huge writer’s block, and even now, im really not sure how this fic holds up despite being my longest story by a lonnnngggg shot. i really hope people like it ahhhh >.< i will get back to my kiss prompts now that i got this monster fic out of the way! as always, i love all of you guys and my ask box/dms are always open if anyone wants to be friends!! <3

prologue.

The city was burning.

Screams and sounds of roaring flame filled the air, the sky clouded from the smoke. You spurred your horse on at breakneck speed with the remnants of your battered army. A horrible deception, a betrayal of the worst kind, sent you to fight on the border while your enemy snuck in, attacking the capitol at its weakest moment.

You burst into the throne room just in time to see a figure standing above your mother and father. Their blood dripped down the marble staircases leading up to the throne, staining the pure white stone into a sickening red.

“No!” You let out a guttural scream as you flung yourself at the man, your wicked blade aimed at his vulnerable throat, ready to kill.

The man whirled to face you at the last second, raising his blade and intercepting your blow with a loud clang that echoed in the room, “Princess,” he smiled in greeting, holding you back as you continued to press your blade firmly against his.

“Hwang Hyunjin, you bastard!” you snarled, twisting out of the sword lock and parrying with his blade skillfully. Staring at the eyes of the wretched king, the ruler that had drove your kingdom into war, your fury was increased tenfold. You wanted nothing more than to slit his throat and throw his dead body out into the streets for what he did to your beloved country.

Hyunjin let out a noise you vaguely recognized as a laugh, “My apologies. I wasn’t expecting you to return so quickly, Your Highness,” he lashed out with a lethal strike, but you almost predicted it, blocking his attack with your blade. Still, Hyunjin didn’t seem the least bit fazed, and he continued to toy with you, enjoying a fight with someone so skilled, “The attack in the south mountain pass was supposed to delay you for more than two days.”

Your blood boiled at his mockery, because no matter if you’d controlled the winds to bring you back to the capitol, Hyunjin would’ve still had the advantage with his much stronger army.

“You know my father was considering your terms of surrender,” you spit out, ducking under his attack and striking at his open left side, but Hyunjin parried it, smirking as your anger grew.

“Well, he was taking a little too long, so I decided to speed up the process,” he replied, a wicked smile on his face as he finally caught an opening, and with a merciless slash of his sword, he nicked your right arm to the bone, cutting through the chainmail and drawing frightening amounts of blood.

There was no time to wallow in the pain. You dropped your sword, catching it with your left hand and continuing your attack, but you were tiring quickly. Fighting your parents’ war had worn you down, and you didn’t have the strength you had when you first started fighting.

Keeping a watchful eye, you felt a spark of hope as you caught an opening. You grabbed it without a second to waste, twisting your blade and aiming at his leg when you suddenly felt a blinding pain on your calf. You let out a cry, fallowing to your knees before the king who only smiled as his subordinates pinned you down, holding your arms back and pressing your face onto the marble floor.

“Do you have any last words, Princess?” Hyunjin cooed as your hair was yanked back, forcing you to look at the cruel man.

“I hope you burn in hell,” you smiled, spitting at the ground before him.

Hyunjin gripped your chin tightly, the smile on his face icy and controlled, “My, my, what a temper,” he chuckled before letting go of your face and backing away. The sun glinted through the windows, shining behind Hyunjin’s head like a halo. How ironic. The man was no angel, not at all.

The last thing you could see was the king’s conceited smile before you felt blinding pain on the back of your head, knocking you out instantly.

“Unlock the cell.”

Your head raised a fraction, your ears perking up at the mere sound of the familiar voice. After you were knocked out, you were dragged back to Hyunjin’s palace as a prisoner of war, chained in a dungeon cell with your hands hanging over your head, your armor having been stripped of you.

As you kept your eyes trained to the floor, Hyunjin’s footsteps padded towards you, stopping right in front of your battered form.

“Princess Y/N. The goddess of victory. A dazzling warrior on the battlefield, feared by her enemies and respected by her subordinates,” Hyunjin’s voice crooned with mock pity, “How does it feel to become the defeated princess, fallen from grace?”

You smirked, finally tilting your head up to glare at him with your cold eyes, “Better than being a coward that’s too scared to finish the job,” you snarled, and the restraints snapped tight as you pulled them with a violent tug.

“You’re really pushing all the wrong buttons, Princess,” Hyunjin sighed, kicking some of the dirt and gravel that had collected in the dungeon away from his foot, “With all the trouble you gave my army, you deserve the most slow and painful death imaginable.”

“Oh? And what else does the infamously sadistic prince of the north have in store for me? I must say, I’ve been rather bored hanging here,” you sneered, making a deliberate show of licking your lips.

For the first time, Hyunjin looked visibly annoyed, his jaw clenching as he hissed almost to himself, “I should have just killed you.”

“Don’t worry, Your Highness. You still have a chance,” you said pleasantly, smiling at the king as if you weren’t chained up in his prison cell.

“Unfortunately, I need you alive.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “How terrible for you. How might I be of service, Your Majesty” Your voice was mocking, your lips curled in a sneer as Hyunjin studied your face.

The king gave you a halfhearted glare, like he didn’t know whether to punish you for your loose mouth or just let it go because it wasn’t quite worth it. He gazed at you, skeptical intrigue clear in his eyes when he finally muttered, “Release the chains.”

You were not expecting such an order, and frankly, the guard was not expecting it either, “B-but, Your Majesty!”

“I’m not repeating myself a second time,” Hyunjin spoke simply, but his voice had an edge to it, as if daring the man to refuse his command. You could’ve sworn that the guard let out a squeak of fear as he nodded obediently, fumbling through his keys as he began to unlock the chains that cut into the soft skin of your wrist.

When you finally felt the cuffs free your hands, you lost the only support holding you up, and your weakened legs buckled under the weight of your body. Before you could hit the floor hard, a firm body held you up, intercepting your fall and cushioning you with their chest as an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Oh dear,” Hyunjin sighed, easily picking up your weakened and frail body, carrying you in his arms as he walked out of the cell, “What am I going to do with you?”

“You know you could really just kill me,” you mumble in response as your head lolled against his chest, your hand absently bunching up his clothing to find a crevice to hold onto.

“I know,” To your surprise, Hyunjin answered, and in your pain muddled state, he almost sounded gentle, “but I’d rather not do that if I can help it.”

Your tired, dazed eyes stared up at the king, only barely processing his words before sleep wrapped its comforting arms around you, lulling you with soothing words as your eyes finally fluttered closed and your head fell against Hyunjin’s chest.

“No one lays a finger on her. I don’t care if she’s an enemy commander, a foreign princess, or whatever other disgusting things you say,” Hyunjin spoke darkly after he’d tucked you in his bed, pulling the covers over your body. Letting go of his restraint for a moment, he allowed his expression to soften as he brushed a strand of your hair away from your face before his eyes turned ice cold once again.

“Do you hear me? I see one more scratch on her body, and your heads will roll,” Hyunjin’s voice held the undertone of a growl as he stepped away from the bed, “Alert me when she wakes. Immediately.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

ii.

The first thing you noticed about your new surroundings was how soft the mattress was. Your finger twitched as your hand began to feel at the satin bedsheets. The pillow your head rested on felt as fluffy as a cloud, a luxury that you didn’t even have back at your own palace. This wasn’t the dungeon...no...this was--

Your eyes flew open as you sat up, your brain hard-wired for danger as you looked around the room. They were surprisingly lavish lodgings for a prisoner of war, if you could say so yourself. From the red satin curtains on the bed to the intricate designs of the ceilings and the walls, you would even venture and say that this room was fit for a king.

“So, the princess has awoken,” A voice pulled you out of your curious thoughts and immediately replaced them with thoughts of murder and annoyance as Hyunjin strolled into the room, dressed as immaculately as always.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” you replied, keeping your eyes trained on the blankets that covered you as you began to massage your legs through the covers. After a couple days of hanging in the dungeon, your legs had lost their strength and you were practically aching bring them back to their original state.

Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin smiled at your snide comments, rather enjoying the dry banter, “I didn’t know it would be a pleasure to see me.”

“It isn’t. I was just trying to be polite,” you said without missing a beat, maintaining a deadpan expression as you commented, “You’re quite generous to provide such a lavish guest room to a prisoner that threatens your control over your newly claimed country.”

“This isn’t a guest room,” Hyunjin corrected you as he pulled a chair closer to your side of the bed, sitting down even as you distinctively refused to look at him, “It’s my bedroom.”

Your apathetic expression faltered for a moment, a true sign of just how much the revelation had flustered you, “Your bedroom?” you repeated, a tang of disgust in your tone that couldn’t be missed even if one tried to avoid it.

“Yes, Your Highness, I’m afraid it is,” Hyunjin had wanted you to sleep in comfort. He hadn’t wanted to keep you in the dungeon for so long, but he had gotten distracted with business with another neighboring kingdom, and he didn’t trust his men enough to let them deal with you. After all, you’d put up a difficult fight keeping them out of your kingdom, and many soldiers were bitter with the long war that was raged.

But all of that? He would never tell you.

Sputtering at his nonchalant expression, you finally looked up at him, a scowl on your face, “Are you truly an idiot? The only people allowed to stay in the king’s chambers are the king and--” you suddenly froze, and Hyunjin could see you putting the pieces together in your head as your eyes narrowed at him, and he had to physically hold back his nervous gulp.

“What are you planning, Your Majesty?” your expression was darker than the shadows of the deepest caves, and your knuckles were white from how hard you were gripping the bedsheets.

“Since I’m sure you’ve figured most of it out already, I won’t beat around the bush,” Hyunjin spoke nonchalantly, glancing at your hands for a split second before turning his gaze to your face.

“I want you to be my Queen.”

The silence that screamed between the two of you was shrill and long until you broke it with a choked voice of disbelief, “That’s not funny, Your Majesty.”

“I assure you, I don’t like to joke around,” Hyunjin replied, “I want to wed you and unite our two kingdoms with marriage instead of blood.”

“Well, you should’ve offered that first, don’t you think?!” you snarled, shifting to lash out at the man when you winced, grabbing at your leg that throbbed from your sudden movements, “How dare you say that to me now, after you burned our cities to the ground? After you killed so many of my people?”

Hyunjin was silent for a moment, and if you didn’t know him any better, you might’ve thought he was genuinely contemplating on how to respond. Finally, he sighed, slumping forward in his seat as he reached down and began to gently massage your legs over the covers.

“H-hey--” The protests died in your mouth as the relaxing sensations drove your body to loosen up even as your brain screamed for you to do something. But what could you do? Especially when the gentle ministrations of his hands felt oh so soothing to your worn out muscles.

“Princess, I truly do not want to force you into marriage,” your ears perked up at his curiously gentle tone. What was the man playing at? He sounded almost genuine as he appealed to you.

“Then, don’t,” you replied easily, merciless and without hesitation, “You have already taken over the capitol. I am sure the lords surrendered, they were always a spineless bunch,” you couldn’t hide the spite in your tone. The lack of support from the nobles of your kingdom was another reason you had suffered such a crushing defeat.

Hyunjin let out a chuckle, and his hands squeezed a little softer and with more gentle strokes as if trying to relax you, “Yes, the nobles of your kingdom were quite quick to accept any of my conditions as long as I kept their estates intact,” you scoffed at his words before he continued, “but unfortunately for me, the rest of your people are not as cowardly.”

Your eyes narrowed, “What do you mean?”

“Many riots and small scale rebellions have erupted around the land and in the capitol as well,” Hyunjin admitted, keeping his eyes focused on the blankets around your legs, “We...aren’t familiar with how the country is run, and they are not pleased with the sudden existence of foreign military force.”

“Did you really think they would be overjoyed to see you?” You asked, deadpan.

The king ignored your sarcastic comments, “Small rebellions have begun to emerge, especially in the capitol and in some of the neighboring towns,” he continued, studying your face and gauging your reactions, “They won’t rest until they have their rightful ruler back. Our marriage could solve that and calm the unrest.”

“Marriage can’t be the only option,” you protested, desperate to get out of this, “I can renounce my claim to the throne, and then you’d be the only ruler. You won’t have any need to marry me at all.”

“That can’t happen!” Hyunjin snapped, trying to hide the sudden burst of nervousness that fluttered in his heart, “Your people would never accept that you of all people would renounce your claim. They would just assume I forced you into it.”

“Oh, like the marriage isn’t forced either?” you retorted coldly, crossing your arms.

Hyunjin’s hands on your legs slowed to a stop, “Princess,” his voice was soft, “My men have not begun to enforce the brunt of the law on those riots, but they are growing anxious. The people who are sick of fighting are being targeted by those who call them traitors. Your people are killing each other--”

“And who’s fault is it?” you bared your teeth in a snarl, and if you had a weapon at that moment, you would’ve plunged it into Hyunjin’s shoulder in a fit of rage, “Who’s fault is it?”

The king’s expression grew a little darker, and his hands fell to his sides as he sensed your anger, “I understand your anger, your hatred. If the spots were switched, I would not be listening to a word you say either. But,” his eyes bore into yours, and in them, you found nothing but honest sincerity as he spoke, “you and I both know that I was not the one who started this war.”

You froze, your jaw going slack as Hyunjin’s words seeped into the depths of your heart. He was right; his kingdom did not start the war, yours did. Your parents, becoming greedy for the jewels that Hyunjin’s mountainous kingdom produced, had continued to aggravate and stir up tensions in the border until your army finally threw the first punch.

In the end, it was you who reaped what you sow, and you supposed that this was heaven’s way of getting back at you for your foolishness.

“I have conditions.”

Hyunjin perked up immediately at your words and he nodded, “Let’s hear them,” he said, his expression with its normal mask of impassiveness, but you were beginning to see through it, finding the genuine eagerness that he hid from the world.

“My people will not be treated like second class citizens,” you said, your voice hard. This was something you would never budge on, “They deserve the same rights and the same freedoms as your people.”

“Of course, you have my word,” Hyunjin nodded firmly, “Your people will be treated the same as mine.”

You couldn’t help the flash of approval that shone in your eyes before you cleared your throat, “I will also want to have a say in the new policy reforms you’ll instill on my kingdom.”

Hyunjin was quiet for a moment, but he didn’t seem surprised by your request in the slightest, “That is a given. After all, I don’t want a queen that doesn’t question my orders,” he chuckled as he studied your face, “Although, I am curious. I already gave you my word that I will treat your people well, why do you want to be involved with the policy making?”

“Because you are a conqueror, not a king,” you replied firmly, not ounce of doubt in your words, “at least to my people. You do not understand their temperament and their customs, just as I do not understand yours. If they sense that your new laws do not actively seek out what’s best for them, they will not follow them, marriage or not.”

For a moment, you feared that you had spoken too much, spoken out of turn for a mere prisoner of war, but Hyunjin gave a noise of understanding after considering your words, “I understand. You may be present for every council meeting.”

That surprised you, and you raised a suspicious eyebrow at the king. You had expected him to accept your advice, but you didn’t expect him to give you the permission to give your advice freely in front of his commanders. You didn’t know much about Hyunjin’s laws, but you studied your kingdom’s neighbors enough to know that this was quite unorthodox.

“What?” Hyunjin chuckled as he noticed your suspicious gaze, “You asked for it.”

“I just wasn’t sure your commanders would be very excited to see a woman tell them what to do,” you retorted dryly.

Hyunjin shrugged, looking not the least bit bothered, “If they aren’t, then they lose their post, that’s all,” before you could really acknowledge just how nonchalant he was about giving you power over his council, he looked at you expectantly, “Anything else?”

After pondering for a moment, your fingers fiddling with the sheets absently, you finally decided on the last condition.

“I will be your one and only.”

Hyunjin’s brow furrowed, and at first, you took it to mean discontent with your demand, but it was merely confusion, “What do you mean?”

Your cheeks grew a little hot as you were forced to elaborate on your rather embarrassing request, “You will not take another wife after you are done exploiting me to transition my kingdom into yours,” you spoke simply, not bothering to mince your words any further, “I won’t be arrogant enough to think that I can prevent you from finding a mistress--”

“I don’t want--” The king suddenly interrupted you, and his choked tone of voice was rather unexpected. Hyunjin looked at you as if he had something urgent to tell you, something that was close to bursting out of his mouth if he didn’t decide to say it himself. Yet, when he finally managed to speak, you knew it wasn’t the words he’d originally wanted to say.

“I don’t want a mistress. I have no intention of seeing anyone else romantically after you,” Hyunjin said firmly, his intense brown eyes staring deep into yours to convey his sincerity, “This condition, I can promise you easily.”

You nodded mutely, not wanting to admit how him treating your marriage with steadfast devotion made you feel. It was just purely for political purposes, after all.

“If you agree to uphold those three conditions,” you looked to Hyunjin as you spoke softly, your next words sealing your fate, “then I agree to your proposal.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, Hyunjin let a flash of excitement pass across his face for a moment, “You’ll marry me?” he asked, and if you blinked, you’d missed the eagerness in his tone, “I want you to say it, Princess.”

“Why? Is my word not enough for you, Your Majesty?” Your lips quirked up in a dry smile.

“Are you really so cold as to deny me this one request?” As you gazed at the young king, you noticed the guarded look in his expression, as if he was bracing for you to snap, to lash out at him coldly.

You refused to let it get to you, but you were grateful that he was so receptive to your demands. As a princess of a once flourishing kingdom, you were no stranger to kings, princes, lords, and anyone else of that sort. None of them would ever dream of giving you the courtesy that the man was giving you at the moment. Perhaps you could return the favor at least a little.

“I want to marry you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin’s genuinely stunned expression stayed in your brain as you went to sleep that night, comfortably swathed in the king’s lavish silk and satin sheets.

iii.

“Not that I’m not excited to return, but why exactly are we going back to my kingdom for the wedding?” You asked curiously as you rode your horse through the mountainous roads necessary to cross into your side of the border, “Isn’t it dangerous to send a captured princess back to her own territory?”

“Ah, but you see,” Hyunjin smiled, the sunlight hitting his face in a way that made him look almost ethereal, “you’re not a captured princess. You’re my fiancé, and it’s a long standing tradition to marry at the bride’s hometown, is it not?”

You rolled your eyes discreetly at his shameless words, giving your horse a light bump of your leg to spur it ahead of Hyunjin’s. Damn northerners and their thick blood, you cursed as you shivered again, still not accustomed to the icy temperatures of the mountains even during the spring.

“Here,” A sudden weight on your shoulders pulled you out of your thoughts, one that was warm and soft. Feeling it with your hands and tilting your head to glance at it, your eyes widened.

“Hyunjin, you absolute idiot, this--”

“Is a royal cape? Yes, I know,” Hyunjin answered nonchalantly, his horse galloping leisurely beside yours.

You sputtered incomprehensibly until you finally managed to put words together, “Only the king can wear this!”

Hyunjin tilted his head towards you inquisitively, “And?”

“It’s basically law!” You exclaimed, wondering if the king truly had some issues like the rumors had stated during your time in the war. Shaking your head, your hand grabbed the edge of the cape, ready to rip it off you when Hyunjin’s hand lashed out, grabbing your hand and stopping your motions.

“Don’t,” his voice was stern as he looked into your eyes, and you felt your blood boil at the light show of concern in his expression, “You’re cold, right? It’ll keep you warm.”

“Did you not hear a word I said?” You scoffed, trying to pull yourself away from Hyunjin, but the road was only so wide, and there wasn’t much room for you to maneuver, “It’s a royal cape. Only the king is allowed to wear it.”

Hyunjin blinked, “Well, I’m the king, so my word is law,” he answered, looking not the least bit bothered, “and I’d rather keep my fiancé healthy than abide by some stuffy tradition.”

You were so flustered by his blunt words that you stopped fighting against his grip. The moment he felt the resistance flow out of your body, Hyunjin flashed you a charming smile before spurring his horse to take a pace just a little faster than yours.

Oh, so that was how he wanted to play. Scowling, you gently kicked the side of your horse, causing them to gallop past Hyunjin as your lips quirked into a pleased smile.

“You know, if you go any faster, you’ll lose our entourage,” Hyunjin mused as he easily urged his horse forward, matching your pace and riding side my side with you, the procession of knights, maids and servants following behind.

Glancing back, you noticed that they were a slight distance away and with a huff of air, you tugged at the reigns, slowing your horse to appease him, “Now, is that really such a bad thing?” you asked, blinking innocently.

Hyunjin gave you a wry smile, one that had grown warmer through the week you’d stayed at his palace. It was a rather strange predicament you had found yourself falling into. Realizing that there was no way for you to avoid the marriage, you had decided to do the only other thing possible to prevent it.

That was to be totally obnoxious to the point where the king would have no choice but to turn his nose up in scorn and leave you to be.

Except, it didn’t quite work that way, and on the contrary, Hyunjin seemed to enjoy bantering with you. In fact, you had a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to pull it out of you, to push your buttons as much as you push his.

It wasn’t what you had hoped for, but it wasn’t there worst possible scenario.

“Hello? Y/N!” Hyunjin reached over, poking your cheek and pulling out a surprised squeak from you.

“What?” you snapped, blushing that you were caught so blatantly with your guard down.

The king gave you a strange glance, also noticing that you were unusually inattentive. His eyes studied your face with something akin to concern in his expression before he dropped the subject, “We’re here, the border.”

You looked around, immediately feeling the wave of nostalgia hit you in full force as you stood at the top of the mountain, gazing at the large expanse of your kingdom, or rather, what was once your kingdom. The lush green fields, the massive trees that looked like specs from where you were, and in the far distance, the capitol city. Your old home.

Suddenly, you felt a gentle nudge on your arm as Hyunjin looked at you, “Let’s scout ahead of the entourage.”

Despite your moment of weakness, you couldn’t help but smirk, sweetness dripping from your words, “Don’t you have scouts in your entourage, Your Majesty?”

“Very funny. You know what I mean,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, but his expression curled into a sly smile as if daring, goading you towards something, “Don’t you want to race and see who’s really the better rider?”

A predatory smile appeared on your lips, your natural response due to how utterly competitive you were, “Are you sure you want your whole court to witness your loss?”

“Oh, please. You might never want to go out and ride with me again after you experience your crushing defeat.”

The grin you were showing was wicked, not so different from smile that would flit across your face during the heat of a battle, “Don’t run away crying when you lose.”

“I would never run away from you, Princess.”

You only gave him a saccharine smile in return, and without another word, you flicked your wrist, sending your horse forward with a burst of speed. There was no need to look back; Hyunjin was hot on your heels.

The two of you descended down the mountainous path, going faster than normal but staying mindful of the potential dangers. Once you made it to the flat plains, your smile widened and the two of your tore down the road.

For the first time since you’d lost your kingdom, you felt truly free, your long hair and the silk of your dress billowing behind you, the wind blowing in your face as you tore past the plains and into the woods. In a moment of consciousness, you could hear Hyunjin’s laugh from behind you, but you could hardly bring yourself to care. Let him chase you. It only made things more exciting.

You finally pulled your horse to a full stop as you reached the edge of the hill. Breathing heavily, you gazed as the winding road that sloped down, lower and lower until it reached the capitol city. You were home. You stared at the falling sun, the quaint little houses below, and you could almost smell the fresh bread at the corner bakery you frequented back when you were young. sneaking out of the palace because you hated the posh, white bread they served.

Hyunjin pulled his horse to wait beside yours, catching the peaceful smile on your face. There was something alluring about you when you fought against him, but seeing what you looked like when you tasted true happiness, it made his heart soften just a little.

“It’s beautiful,” he commented, slowing his horse down beside yours.

“You should see it during the lantern festivals,” you smiled, looking down at the immense city from a distance, “The city lights up at night, and no one sleeps that entire week.”

“Maybe we should come back to experience it one day,” Hyunjin suggested, his voice casual, but his eyes shrouded with slight uncertainty, knowing that he was probing into untapped territory.

To his surprise, the relaxed smile on your face remained, “That’s not a bad idea,” you mused. Rolling your shoulders, you let out a sigh, looking out at the city below.

Then, reality hit you like a club to the gut as your eyes caught sight of the flag that waved at the front of the castle. Distant, barely discernible, but you knew at a glance. It was not your kingdom’s flag, and it was the cruelest reminder of the reason you were allowed to come home in the first place.

The king followed your line of sight, curious as to what caused such a sudden change in mood. When his eyes fell to the flag looming over the city, it clicked, “Y/N,” he started, swallowing as he considered his words carefully, “I have to establish rule at least for a little--”

“Don’t patronize me,” Your voice was colder than ice, and Hyunjin cursed at ill fate of your relationship. Always half a step forward, then three steps back, “I’m no stranger to conquering cities. Let’s get to the palace before dark,” you flicked the reigns, prepping your horse to begin moving.

“Wait--” Hyunjin’s hand reached over to grab your wrist before he was even fully conscious of his own actions. Surprised, your head whipped around to look at his face before looking down at where his large hand completely wrapped around your thin wrist.

“We have quite some time before the sky begins to darken at all,” Hyunjin reasoned with you calmly, and his thumb brushed against the soft skin of your arm in an instinctive attempt to appease your obvious anger, “And the rest of the court has not yet caught up to us.”

“Do you want us to lay down a cloth on the grass and chat over some afternoon tea?” You scoffed, trying to pull your hand away, but his grip tightened, squeezing his hand around your wrist as if he thought you would disappear right in front of him if he wasn’t touching you.

Hyunjin sighed, “I only want you to let me explain myself.”

If your anger had not boiled over before, it certainly did now. You rounded your horse to face him, your eyes burning with controlled fury, “Explain yourself? What exactly do you need to explain? Your kingdom conquered mine, lay siege to the capitol, burned down the cities in your path, and now you’re taking me as your trophy wife--”

“You’re not a trophy wife, Y/N,” Hyunjin finally interrupted you, his voice firm and steadfast. He looked you straight in the eye, his gaze never faltering as he spoke his mind, “I did not ask you to be my wife just to mutely sit by my side. I want your counsel, your advice, your opinion. You will be my Queen in both name and power.”

Taken aback by his words, your anger faltered and turned only into confusion, “Then,” you spoke, so flustered that you didn’t even notice Hyunjin’s hand had trailed down to hold your hand in his, “what was the point in conquering my country so completely, if you were planning to give me power in the first place?”

Hyunjin smiled, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You noticed that he smiled like that often; never quite looking fake but never truly happy either, “Your parents.”

Immediately, you stiffened, and just from your reaction, Hyunjin knew his explanation was partially complete, “I needed to remove them from the picture completely, and to do that, I needed a total victory.”

An uncomfortable feeling twisted in your gut. It was your mother and father that he was talking about! You should’ve been furious, spatting at the ground he walked on for his words to both of them, but in the end, you could only protest weakly, “Still, there was no need to--”

“You know they fed off the poor, right?” Hyunjin asked, his voice turning cold, “You know they corrupted the distribution of wealth and crops to fund their own gambling addiction, right?”

Your heart turned to ice as you stared at Hyunjin in absolute horror, “H-how did you--”

“Do you think your kingdom’s secrets stay inside the kingdom forever?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at your naivety, “Envoys talk, rumors spread. The king and queen of your kingdom were not fit to carry the weight of their people on their shoulders.”

Finally having enough of this pain, this scabs of your heart that Hyunjin was cruelly picking at, you snapped, turning your face away, “Then why marry me at all?! If you scorn at my parents’ corruption, why choose me? Is this just a twisted way of shoving their crimes into my face?”

“Because you’re not like them,” Hyunjin answered simply.

A bitter chuckle slipped past your lips, “You sound foolishly certain about that, Your Majesty.”

“I am,” The king did not mince his words. Why should he, when he knew it was true beyond a shadow of a doubt?

“I know you are nothing like them. You were their bandage, desperately trying to make up for their actions,” Hyunjin continued, “You compensated for their depletion of the bank with your own funds, you fed the poor from food storages hidden from the eyes of your parents.”

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes softened and he let warmth into his voice, “You fought me because of a war they started, and they intended you to be the only one who would pay the price for it.”

Your eyes felt uncomfortable tight as if you were about to cry, and under no circumstance were you going to let that happen in front of Hyunjin, “Why tell me all this now?” you asked, your voice uncharacteristically resigned as you kept your eyes trained at the distant palace, “You think I’m not fully aware of their cruelty? You think I haven’t spent my entire life trying to make up for my parents’ actions?”

Hyunjin didn’t speak for a moment, taking in the weight of your words, “If I may ask,” he started softly, “if you knew about it, why didn’t you overthrow them? You certainly had the resources and the support of your people.”

The question brought a dry smile to your face as you turned to look at Hyunjin, “You’re right,” you answered wryly, “why didn’t I? It would’ve been the most logical course of action, don’t you think?” Hyunjin had no answer, because he knew your question was merely a rhetorical one, and he wasn’t about to fall into another one of your honeytraps and let you dodge the question that has plagued his mind since he first crossed blades with you.

“There isn’t anything complicated to it, really,” you glanced at Hyunjin with a sort of resigned annoyance, “I just couldn’t bring it in me to betray my family.”

“Did they ever even give you anything?” Hyunjin asked incredulously, “Did they ever show you affection at all?”

The almost spiteful questions made you laugh bitterly, “No, not at all,” Turning to Hyunjin, you gave a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, “Foolish me, right?”

Hyunjin stared at you, the sly comeback on the tip of his tongue disappearing as soon as it appeared. Despite your cold expression, your eyes told the truth, and he could see that your heart pained at the notion of having covered for your parents since you were old enough to read, only for them to throw you to the wolves, betraying you for money.

“It isn’t foolish to love your parents,” Hyunjin answered softly, causing your eyes to widen in surprise, “It might be just an innate instinct to, even if they mistreat us.”

You let out a disbelieving chuckle, “Maybe you’re right.”

“You don’t have to feel guilt about what happened to them, you know,” Hyunjin turned to face the horizon where the sun was setting behind the palace.

“I don’t.”

“Don’t lie, it’s written all over your face,” Hyunjin said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, “It’s killing you inside that you didn’t save your parents in time, right?”

You looked down at your hands, your heart burning with festering guilt, “How can I not?”

“You shouldn’t,” Hyunjin said bluntly, “They betrayed you to me, hoping that it would save them, when it only sealed their fate. There was nothing you could do about it.”

“I could’ve stopped you if I was only a moment earlier,” you argued, the guilt that had been bottled up inside you finally bursting out due to his prodding, “If I was only a little faster, then I would’ve--”

“Princess,” Hyunjin’s soft voice cut into your thoughts, “They didn’t deserve your kindness.”

You refused to admit how much his words soothed your anxiety, and in the dead of night, how they’d repeat in your head, allowing sleep to finally defeat the trauma your parents had instilled into you.

iv.

“Your Highness, please come sit down so I can do your hair!”

The sound of your exasperated maids filled your bedroom chamber as you huffed, tying your new silk robe in place before plopping down on the chair in front of the vanity, “What’s the rush? We have four hours before the wedding.”

Chaeryeong clicked her tongue in obvious exasperation, “Spending all your time out on the battlefield since birth, do you even know how much time it takes to get ready? Plus, you’re the future Queen, Your Highness! What would your husband think if you didn’t look prim and proper for the biggest event of your lives?”

Ah yes, your current fiancé.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Hyunjin was doing his utmost to get on your good side. The moment the two of you arrived at your palace, Hyunjin lavished his wealth on you and your upcoming wedding. Every day you spent with him, he’d give you a gift, ranging from a simple rose to silk robes made by the finest tailors on the continent. You’d told him over and over that you didn’t need extravagance like this, but the king paid you no mind, and the boxes continued to be delivered to your bedroom every day.

If you were being honest, your heart had begun to feel a little warmer to him, his gentle actions chipping at your icy walls. It wasn’t just the gifts, it was his unabashed care for you that made you think that he was almost excited to be married to you, a rather outrageous idea in itself.

“Your Highness!” a voice interrupted your thoughts as Yuna scurried over to you, “His Majesty is outside.”

“Outside of this room?” you asked, turning to face her in surprise.

She nodded in confirmation, “He says he has something to give you.”

Hyunjin stood at the other side of your door, already dressed immaculately in his uniform, spotless and practically dripping with charm. He had walked over to your bedroom, eager to present you with his daily gift when Yuna had slipped out and promptly stopped him from going in.

“I just want to give her a gift!” Hyunjin had protested weakly, but with how stern she was being, he felt like a scolded child rather than an all powerful ruler.

“I’m very sorry, Your Majesty, but you cannot see the Princess until the wedding ceremony.”

Hyunjin was practically pouting at that point, fiddling with the velvet black box in his hands, “Can I at least talk to her?” he asked, “I’ll slip it through the door.”

The maid gave him a weary look before relenting, “Fine. Wait here, Your Majesty.”

“Hyunjin?” you called out hesitantly from the other side of the door, his name no longer feeling foreign to your lips.

“How are you feeling?” Hyunjin asked, feeling the waves of anxiety calm just from hearing your voice. You couldn’t help but smile; even in this moment, where a typical king would already be in celebration with his friends, almost always in some sort of brothel, he still came to make sure you were alright.

“Nervous, but who wouldn’t be?” You chuckled, playing with the doorknob, and a part of you yearned to open the door just to get a look at Hyunjin’s face. The two of you have spent practically most hours of the day together for the last couple weeks, either dealing with foreign envoys sending their congratulations or revising the laws for your kingdom; it almost felt strange to not see him at all for the whole day.

You could hear shuffling from the other side before Hyunjin spoke uncertainly, “Oh, I have a gift for you.”

“Again?” A breathless laugh left your lips, “Hyunjin, you’ve already spent an unseemly amount of money on me these last few days!”

“I know, I know, but this one is special!” Hyunjin argued before his hand slipped through the crack, holding a black velvet box. You took it gingerly, still shaking your head in mild amusement as you opened the present, your jaw dropping.

“Hyunjin, this is…” your voice refused to work as you stared at the diamond necklace, individual gems lacing the front part of the chain, worth more than any of the jewelry your mother ever had, and certainly more than the ones in your possession that you’d buy from local jewelers to support their business.

“Do you like it?” Even without seeing him, you could hear the genuine eagerness in Hyunjin’s voice, and it warmed your heart in a way you didn’t know was possible, as if he had wrapped you up in fluffy blankets on a cold winter day.

You smiled, your fingers delicately brushing the silver chain, “It’s beautiful,” you murmured, before speaking a little louder in case Hyunjin didn’t hear you (he did), “It’s really beautiful, Hyunjin. Thank you.”

There was a beat of silence before Hyunjin spoke again, his voice softer than before, which made you lean closer to the door just to hear him. You could guess his purpose, to say something to you before the wedding and to keep it out of the ears of the nosy maids that were currently standing at the corner of your room, giggling and gossiping amongst themselves.

“I-I know that you never wanted this marriage.” Was that a stutter you heard? It couldn’t be.

Hyunjin cleared his throat before continuing, “I know, in some way, I forced you into this, and I apologize. I’ll do my very best to be a husband that is worthy of standing by your side.”

For a moment, you genuinely thought you were dreaming, the king’s words repeating in your head over and over and yet making no sense at all. Him being worthy of standing next to you? Who was the king here? Why was he lowering himself to your status?

“Hyunjin--” your hand was at the door, instinctively moving to push the door open so you could speak to him in person, but his reflex was just as fast, pushing back with his own hand and keeping the door shut.

“Don’t come out! You know it’s bad luck!” Hyunjin scolded you, his voice sounding slightly panicked.

You let out a sigh, wondering why everyone embraced so many of these superstitions, even him, “You’re right, the door stays closed,” you reassured him gently.

Hyunjin didn’t speak for a moment, and you almost thought he had left without a word when he began softly, “I know you didn’t want this marriage, but if your heart could have some room for me,” he swallowed, “any room at all, wear the necklace when you walk down the aisle.”

When you returned to the vanity, a dazed expression on your face as the maids giggled and continued to apply your makeup, you looked at your own appearance in the mirror, your hand gently brushing over the simple necklace that currently adorned your neck.

In accordance to the traditions of your kingdom, if your father was not alive to present you to your husband, it was expected of you to wear a gift from them as a symbol of their claim over you. The plain necklace with a single pearl charm in the center of it was the only jewelry you’d ever received from your father, and if you were being blatantly honest with yourself, you despised it.

Unconsciously, your other hand moved to rest atop the black velvet box now sitting on your vanity. Where your father’s jewlery felt like unwanted possession, you thought back to Hyunjin’s words.

“I’ll do my very best to be a husband that is worthy of standing by your side.”

Why did those words send your heart into rapid beating? Why did those words feel so freeing, hearing your husband-to-be proclaim before his vows with such intimacy, only for your ears?

It didn’t take more than two minutes to come to a decision. You knew the path you had to take, the one that would allow you to break from the past and the constant obligation you’ve always felt.

“Yuna.”

“Yes, Your Highness?” Your maid smiles, immediately standing to attention as you open the black box. The other maids gasped at the sight of such a priceless artifact before them.

“Help me replace my current necklace, please.”

The wedding went without a hitch and you were officially the bride of the most powerful man on the continent. Even as the feast proceeded, your people utterly ecstatic that their beloved princess had been married off in such style, you found yourself playing with the ring that weighed down your fourth finger. It was just felt...foreign.

As the night came to a close, and even the most drunken partygoers were politely escorted out of the palace gates, you were ushered into your bedroom by your maids, who looked a little too eager to have anything good planned.

“What are you all giggling about?” you sighed as they gently combed out the flowers in your hair.

“It’s your first night with the king, Your Highness!” Yuna answered, massaging your hands gently, “We have to pretty you up!”

“Oh?” you raised your eyebrows at her in suspicion before lightly jabbing her side, “Are you saying that I’m not pretty already?”

Yuna fluttered her lashes innocently, “I didn’t say that, Your Highness,” Yeji and Ryujin hid their smiles and you only rolled your eyes, never finding it in you to be hard on any of them. The five maids have been by your side since you were young, and you were more than elated when Hyunjin had agreed to summon them back to the palace despite that they, more often than not, made you want to tear your hair out.

Like right now.

“I am not wearing that,” you shook your head, your voice dropping into a low growl. But one thing that always drove you a little insane, none of the girls were afraid of you.

Lia held up the lace sleepwear, smiling at you, “Hm? Why ever not?” She asked, as if the robe wasn’t practically sheer and leaving almost nothing to imagination.

“I’m dressing to go to bed!”

“Yes, going to bed with him, your new husband!” Chaeryeong laughed ushering you behind the divider, “Come on, you’re wearing that nightgown or we’ll tell His Majesty about the time you tried to climb the tower--”

“Fine! Demons, all of you,” you growled without any bite to it, and the only response were the laughter and giggles of your handmaidens.

Hyunjin walked towards the bedroom, still wearing his uniform from the ceremony. Every few steps, he’d glance at the ring on his fourth finger. It wasn’t anywhere near the most expensive piece of jewelry he owns, but you had chosen it for him. You, his newly wedded wife. It made him positively giddy just thinking about it, but he contained himself because he was a king, for goodness sakes.

The door to his bedroom opened as the maids excused themselves. He recognized them as your handmaidens, especially because you had personally went up to him to request--no, demand politely--that they be brought back to your side.

What was curious, though, was the way they were giggling amongst themselves, giggling that only grew when they spotted Hyunjin in the corridor. They gracefully curtsied at him before practically sprinting down the hall.

Hyunjin shook his head with a resigned smile as he opened the door to your now shared bedroom, “Your handmaidens were giggling nonstop as they walked out--”

The king’s voice completely failed to work for a solid minute as he gazed upon your figure, abashedly sitting on the edge of the bed. While he’d always thought you were beautiful, ever since the first, bloody meeting with your swords clashing, this was the first time he realized that you weren’t just beautiful, you were utterly divine.

Whatever self restraint he had, the secret affection he’d buried for so long, it burst out like a raging fire.

“Hyunjin--” your words were cut short as the man rushed forward, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips smashed against yours, taking the gasp of surprise right out of you.

It was unreal, the way you were being kissed, the way Hyunjin was kissing you. It was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, like a gust of wind was sweeping you off your feet. His lips were both gentle and insistent, tugging and giving to you in a way that gave you no choice but to let him in.

Your hands gripped at his uniform as Hyunjin hovered over you, his hands ghosting over your bare thighs as he gently guided you to lie down on the bed, never once pulling away from you. Hyunjin’s hands were roaming everywhere, cupping your face to touched the lace fabric on your waist.

His name fell out of your lips as he squeezed your thighs, his tongue coming to explore your mouth with a sort of urgency. It felt like the more you gave him, the more he took.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out as he finally pulled away for a moment to breathe, his lips inches away from yours. Glancing down, his hand trailed to your neck, leaving featherlight touches on the soft skin as he marveled at the way you looked all splayed out on the bed for him, “And that necklace, it looked stunning…” he trailed off as he began to work at your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin.

He was just so good. His hands knew exactly where to touch, where to be gentle. His lips knew when to be soft and when to be aggressive. As your hands instinctively moved to card through his soft black hair, a small part of you, a tiny speck of doubt in your mind festered. How many times has he done this to be so experienced? How many have been in the receiving end of his ceaseless praises and touches?

It was only a hint of doubt, and you tried to shove it within the depths of your mind. Hyunjin’s relationships before your marriage shouldn’t matter, and to be brutally honest, you didn’t hold yourself in high enough esteem to think that you’d be able to keep his interest for even more than a few days. As your mother had once said in scorn, you were more soldier than lady.

When Hyunjin’s lips trailed from your collarbones to just above your breasts, you began to squirm a little, the panic slowly seeking into your body. The king, enraptured by his actions, continued to travel lower and lower, and the anxiety in your chest only grew until it snapped as his hands slipped under your nightgown.

“H-Hyunjin—wait—stop, please stop—” you gasped out, frantically beginning to struggle and writhe beneath him. There wasn’t much of a fight, however, because the moment your panicked tone made it to Hyunjin’s ears, he backed away, completely getting off you and kneeling beside your breathless form, his eyes wide with an expression you’ve never seen on his face before.

Horror.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he choked out as his hands fluttered anxiously around you, debating whether or not to help you or not to touch you out all. In the end, his hands delicately rested on your shoulder as he helped you sit up. Stupid, why couldn’t he read the signs?

You shook your head as you began to shiver, the heated atmosphere from before now fading from your bones, “N-no, I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around your body as if to protect yourself. From him. It made him sick to his stomach.

“Don’t be sorry. It was my fault,” Hyunjin said firmly, and he grabbed one of his robes that were hanging somewhere in the bedroom, quickly returning to your side and throwing it over your shoulders, wrapping you up in clothing that actually covered you.

What had happened? Hyunjin knew you were enjoying it at the onset. He could feel you kissing back, getting swept away as your hands lightly tugged at his hair. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have went so far to the point where he lost control of his own desire. When did you start panicking?

“No, not at all, Your Majesty,” you spoke softly, tugging at the robe around your shoulders to wrap it tighter around your frame, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back a flinch as his title fell out of your lips. You were his wife, for god’s sake! You didn’t need to call him that.

“I’m just...I’m merely overreacting,” you continued, hugging your knees to your chest and looking smaller than he’d ever seen you, “I understand that it’s a queen’s duty to...produce an heir,” you dipped your head, avoiding his eyes, “And I know this is a rather outrageous request, but I don’t want this until there’s at least some sort of affection between us.”

Hyunjin took a moment to process your words before his eyes widened. Oh dear, you’ve got this all wrong. You truly didn’t know. You didn’t know how much thought he’d put into the gifts he sent you. You didn’t know the way he’d tossed and turned the night before the wedding, childishly giddy at the very thought of marrying you. You didn’t know and didn’t realize it at all.

But it was alright. He could tell from just one look at you that you weren’t ready. And that was alright. He would wait. He’d wait his whole lifetime for you.

“You aren’t overreacting,” Hyunjin said, his voice gentle as he moved to stroke your soft hair, “And you aren’t my queen just to produce an heir, you’re much more than that. I won’t ever push you until you’re ready.”

Your eyes widened at his words and your head whipped up to look at Hyunjin, who was now sitting on his legs on the bed in front of you, “B-but, what would people say?” you asked.

“We can pretend if it makes you uncomfortable, and if I hear any malicious rumors, I’ll put a stop to them,” Hyunjin answered, not an ounce of doubt in his words.

Despite your shaken state, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “How very terrifying, no wonder they call you the Ice King of the North,” this wasn’t the first time you’ve used that nickname on him, but it no longer held the malice it used to. Rather, there was a small playfulness to it, a gratitude for him being so understanding.

Hyunjin was happy to play along, anything to make you feel more at ease around him, “That’s a total farce,” he grumbled, “I never tortured soldiers for information, I just predicted their moves. I don’t need to stoop that low to win my battles.”

“Oh, you poor little one,” you said with mock pity, reaching up to pet his hair as if soothing a child.

“Little one?” Hyunjin’s lips curled into a smirk as he rounded on you like a predator stalking its prey, “Are you sure I’m the little one here?”

“Hyunjin,” you warned, although it was hard to fight the smile from appearing on your face as you scooted away from you, “Don’t you--Hyunjin!”

You let out a squeal as Hyunjin pounced on you, attacking mercilessly with tickles as you fought back with the same amount of vigor. It was no use, though; Hyunjin was broader and had more than a head over you in height.

Your hand managed to latch onto a pillow and you took it smacking the side of his face hard with the fluffy object. The tide was turned, and you managed to slither out from under him, hitting him as you laughed.

When you finally fell back on the bed, breathless and giggling, Hyunjin rolled over to you slowly. Cautiously, his hand wrapped around your waist, and to his utter surprise, you made no moves to push him away. Instead, you looked comfortable with the gesture, letting him pull you to his side gently.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

“What?” You looked up in surprise, feeling yourself snug against his chest as Hyunjin hummed, silently moving the covers up over your shoulders to keep you warm.

“I’m glad I married you,” Hyunjin murmured again, resting his head on yours.

You were silent for a long moment, his words ringing in his head. They were so gentle, so outrageously innocent for a man who you’d hated only a few weeks before. Slowly, your hand shifting, gently resting on his chest as you spoke softly, “I’m...glad it’s you, too.”

Hyunjin’s body tensed in surprise as if he wasn’t quite expecting you to parrot the words to him at all, and especially in that soft voice that only came out when you were showing your most vulnerable sides to him. His arm tightened around your waist as you closed your eyes, happily nestled in the embrace of your new husband.

interlude.

“Your Majesty. Your Majesty!” A servant waved his hand urgently as he rushed down the hallway.

Hyunjin stopped short in his conversation with one of his commanders, Minho, spinning on his heels to address the man, “Yes, what is it?”

“Here is the invitation list for Her Majesty’s coronation,” he said, handing Hyunjin a long piece of parchment paper. The king unrolls the document, scanning through the guest list quickly before rolling it back in place, “Do away with this list.”

The messenger gawked at his request, utterly dumbfounded, “Your Majesty?” He stammers, puzzled.

“This list only includes the most high ranking officials and lords of the kingdom,” Hyunjin handed the parchment back to the messenger, “I want the throne room opened to all.”

“All?” Hyunjin’s commander sputtered, finally interjecting into the conversation, “Your Majesty, that would be a huge risk to take regarding security! Anyone could potentially sneak in and--”

“My Queen is not the type to only care for the noblemen, but also the rest of our people. We’ve already discussed it in length. She wants the common people present at her coronation as well,” Hyunjin replied.

Minho bristled internally. It had only been a few weeks since the king had brought home his new bride. The fact that he had not consulted with any of his military and economic advisors was already outrageous, and what made it even worse was how obviously besotted with her he was.

Minho disliked her, along with the rest of the nobles. She was foreign blood and she was a technical prisoner of war. She also seemed to prioritize the commoners more than the people that actually paid for this monarchy. She threw a wrench in their plans, and they all hated her.

“Commander? Do you have anything to say in your defense?” The king’s icy tone broke into the man’s thoughts, Hyunjin’s eyebrow raised expectantly.

It was only too bad that the king protected the queen almost more than he did his own life.

“Nothing, Your Majesty. You are right, of course,” The experienced commander knew when to show his white flag, dipping his head in agreement. There was no point in angering his king over something as trivial as this.

Hyunjin obviously didn’t buy his saccharine sweetness, but he wasn’t petty enough to point it out either, “Speaking of the Queen,” he turned to the messenger, “would you happen to know where she is right now? She had wandered off to explore the palace after our military meeting adjourned.”

“Ah,” the poor boy blushed, feeling quite suddenly put on the spot as he answered, “I believe I saw her wandering into the garden, Your Majesty.”

The king could not hide a fond smile from flitting across his face in a brief moment of weakness, “I see, thank you,” he nodded at the boy, and the messenger was more than happy to excuse himself from Hyunjin’s presence. Finally left alone with the commander, Hyunjin turned to him smoothly, “Continuing our previous conversation, I will not enforce a toll between the borders of mine and the Queen’s kingdom. If you don’t have anything else to discuss, you are excused.”

Ah, it’s always the Queen, the Queen, the Queen. Minho thought it was nothing short of repulsive at how only the name of the woman would have his king turning over and showing his belly like an excited kitten. Gritting his teeth, he bowed, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

If this goes on any further, Minho might have to take matters into his own hands. But, for the moment, he didn’t need to get his hands dirty yet. A smile quirked up on his face as he mused about certain...possibilities. Maybe, with the coronation open to all, he wouldn’t even need to lift a finger.

vii.

To be honest, when Hyunjin was growing up, he had believed himself incapable of love. When his father had died early on in his life, he was raised by a mother that knew nothing but greed and a thirst for power. She controlled him like a puppet on strings, using her own son as a vessel for her own agendas. It had taken all of Hyunjin’s effort to finally break free from his mother’s clutches, and when he emerged into the world as a young king, he realized that he was well and truly destined to be alone.

But as he walked around the royal gardens, in search of his wife, his heart making a light skip at the mere prospect of seeing her, he wonder if this was what love was supposed to feel like. And as he stopped short, seeing the back of a familiar woman sitting on the bank of a small pond, her simple, yet elegant dress splayed out gracefully on the ground, he knew this was exactly what love was supposed to feel like.

Smiling to himself, the king walked over to you, shedding his uniform jacket and gently draping it over your small form, “Spending time with the bunnies again?”

You barely bat an eyelash as the familiar weight of Hyunjin’s coat fell upon your shoulders, holding onto it to keep warm as you smiled up at him, “Didn’t Commander Lee want to speak with you alone? What are you doing out here?”

“The conversation was more trivial than I’d expected, so I cut it short,” Hyunjin waved off your worries, sitting down on the grass beside you. Suddenly to his right, two small, cream colored bunnies jump out from the bushes, bounding over to you, already familiar with your presence since you’ve spent much of your free time here.

“Are you sure you should be making your displeasure so obvious? You know we rely on their military strength,” you spoke as you gently reached out to one of the bunnies, tickling its nose with your finger, a light frown on your face as you looked at Hyunjin.

“I’ve made it very clear what I expect from them, and yet they keep disobeying me,” Hyunjin muttered, angrily ripping at the grass to vent his obvious frustrations.

As you studied Hyunjin’s face, you couldn’t help but sense that there was more to his anger at his commanders than he was letting on, “There’s something else, isn’t there?” you approached him cautiously.

Hyunjin looked up at you, surprised, “What do you mean?” One of the bunnies hesitantly bounded over to him, and the king awkwardly pet them, trying his best to be gentle, especially after you’d given him a big scolding about being to aggressive with them a few weeks ago.

“You’re not just angry because they question your policies,” you explained, your eyebrows furrowed in gentle concern, “I mean, I question you all the time, and we’ve only been married for a few weeks.”

The king couldn’t help but chuckle at that, “But it’s different when it’s you.”

“Why? Because we’re married?” you laughed at the sheer cheesiness of the statement, giggling as Hyunjin nuzzled his face into your shoulder playfully.

“What else could it be, darling?” the name fell out of his lips so naturally, he almost had to do a double take with how close he was to saying it like he genuinely meant it, and not just as a lighthearted joke between the two of you.

Instead of pushing him away, you smiled, reaching to gently ruffle his hair, “Don’t avoid the question,” you murmured softly, “what’s got you all worked up?”

Hyunjin debated for a moment before sighing. He could never refuse you of anything, “I don’t like how they treat you,” he said, his voice flat, “I don’t like the way they glower at you when they think you don’t notice, the way they keep trying to subtly tell me to find another wife.”

There was a moment of silence as you stated at him, almost dumbfounded. Then, to Hyunjin’s utter surprise, your lips curled into an amused smile, “That's it?”

Oh, the utter nerve of you! Hyunjin would feel offended if it weren't for the fact that he was angry for your sake in the first place, “That's it?” He repeated in disbelief, “Aren't you annoyed at all? They dislike you for no reason other than the fact that you're not one of them. Doesn't that make you even a little angry?”

“Why should it?” You merely shrugged your shoulders, smiling down at the bunny that was burrowing into your stomach for warmth, “Their twisted thinking is not my responsibility to change. If they're determined to hate me, no amount of money, fear or kindness will change that.”

It was quite amazing, seeing you so nonchalant. Hyunjin had done his best to help you adjust to the new customs, the colder weather, everything that might potentially pull you out of your comfort zone, but you took everything with such grace, such an aura of indifference. It almost turned him on every time he saw you brush off Minho’s jagged comments about your appearance, your background, your parent's crimes with a simple quip in return that would turn the commander's face a shade of deep red.

“You’re unreal,” The words fell off of Hyunjin’s lips before he could even process them. You're unreal? Hwang Hyunjin, you're supposed to be a notoriously smooth talker, a true diplomat!

The look on your face showed your surprise at his sudden comment as you asked almost worriedly, “What’s going on with you today?”

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin cleared his throat, desperate to salvage this rather awkward conversation.

“Well, you seem more emotionally charged than normal,” you commented, “Did something happen?” A mischievous sparkle appeared in your eyes, “Someone catch your eye?”

“Of course. You.”

“Flattery won't make me go easy on you during our sparring practice,” you hummed absently, all of your attention devoted to the bunny in your lap as you tickled its nose with your gentle finger, cooing.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but pout as his advances were all being brushed away, and he felt a little like a shy prince courting a lady for the first time. He glanced at the bunny with an expression akin to mild disdain, “You seem to play favorites, My Queen.”

You chuckled, lifting the small creature into your hands as it curiously sniffed at you, “Well, Sungie enjoys my company, too, more so than the others.”

“Sungie?” Hyunjin repeated the name. He disliked it, mentally apologizing to whoever he’d meet in the future that had the unfortunate fate of being named Sungie.

His blood boiled in a way that a petulant child’s would as he watched you giggle, pressing a light kiss to the bunny’s nose. Wonderful. Not only was this Sungie stealing your attention, he was stealing your kisses, too. When was the last time you kissed him?

Far too long ago.

Hyunjin sighed, and he gave up on his attempts to steal your attention, opting to tell you the more important news, “Your coronation is confirmed for next week.”

Your entire body froze, and you placed Sungie back into your lap, “That’s early,” you responded, and Hyunjin didn’t miss the thin layer of tension in your voice, the only sign that becoming the queen of two kingdoms was more daunting to you than you like to show, “I thought you said the nobles would never agree to it.”

“I think they grew tired of opposing you, since it’s so goddamn hard,” Hyunjin said, and your lips quirked into a wry smile, unconsciously driving him to do the same, “The head of staff gave me the normal list of the same, boring rich military men, but I told him to change it according to what we’d discussed.”

You didn’t speak for a long moment, your eyes drifting off into the distance as if thinking very carefully until his name fell out of your lips, “Hyunjin.”

“Yes?” The king tilted his head towards you inquisitively.

“Aren’t you tired of me telling you what to do?” You asked, meeting his gaze with an unreadable expression on your face, “You married me, the princess of a defeated kingdom, and I prance around making my own rules and then now uprooting your traditions. Aren’t you annoyed at least?”

Hyunjin only shrugged, “I didn’t chose you out of all people to be my queen just for you to stay silent,” he answered before letting out a fond chuckle, “And besides, you never tell me what to do. You just come in with a strong suggestion and we either argue about it civilly or we duel it out. That’s called council, and it’s exactly what you’re supposed to be doing.”

For the first time, you stared at Hyunjin in a new light. Was it just because of his words, or was your heart fluttering because of him? Hyunjin didn’t seem to notice how much his words meant to you, beginning to click his tongue sweetly at one of the nearby bunnies, petting their soft fur. Strange, he didn’t seem this attractive the few times he’d done this before.

“Are you alright?” The man in your thoughts interrupted your daydreaming, “You’ve gone all quiet.”

You could only hope that the warmth on your cheeks didn’t show, “I’m alright,” you replied quickly, diverting your attention to Sungie, who had woken up, trying to burrow himself in your lap, “Just thinking about the coronation.”

“I see. Are you excited?”

“Excited?” You repeated with a chuckle, “I can’t say I’m dreading it, but would anyone be excited to carry the weight of two kingdoms on their shoulders?”

“Not everyone thinks about ruling in that way,” Hyunjin reasoned, reaching for one of the bunnies.

You shrugged, “Maybe, but I don’t want to treat my power like something I can carelessly wield--ah, not that aggressively!” Your eyes widened as you grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist when you noticed him reach for one of the bunnies without letting it come to him.

“Why? I was going slow!” Hyunjin spoke defensively, all of his senses heightened at the feeling of your small yet firm grip around his wrist. Cute, your hand didn’t even completely wrap around his.

“Wait for him to come to you,” you instructed him, guiding his hand forward in the right movements to beckon some of the bunnies over to him. All your attention was diverted to helping him, and yet, Hyunjin could not take his eyes off your face, your perfect features, the kindness in your eyes, and those perfectly kissable lips.

He couldn’t wait until the day that a golden crown would adorn your hair, and you would sit in the throne beside him, a spot that no one else but you were worthy of.

viii.

“Are you nervous?”

“Do you want me to lie to you and say that I’m not?” You replied from where you were standing in front of the full length mirror, Yeji and Ryujin putting on the last few accessories of your coronation dress. Per your request, the gown was bold, dark red chiffon falling to the ground with accents of gold plated metal on your shoulder plates. It was a statement, a statement that would tell Hyunjin’s kingdom that you were no prisoner, and a statement that would tell your own kingdom that you were still their princess in heart and soul.

Hyunjin leaned against the doorframe, watching you get ready and conversing with you. For a brief moment, you wondered if he’d sensed your nerves that morning, and had come to bother you only to get your mind off of the main event.

You stared at your own reflection, unwavering. But yet, the woman that stared back at you, the woman who was about to be crowned the queen of two powerful kingdoms, felt unfamiliar. This, this powerful woman, she didn’t feel like you. What good have you ever done with your power? What good will you ever do with your new power?

“Yeji, Ryujin, leave us,” Hyunjin suddenly spoke up, although not unkindly. The two handmaidens slipped their hands away from their work, having only to check the corset straps before they were done with you.

When they left the room, you watched silently in the mirror as Hyunjin pushed off from the doorframe and made his way towards you. The king didn’t seem to be in a rush to speak either, and he took the corset straps delicately in his hands before securing the corset.

“I’m not ready,” Hyunjin said softly as he concentrated on his task, “That was the only thought running through my head on the day of my coronation.”

You didn’t speak, taking in the weight of his words, “I remember,” you answered softly, and as you watched Hyunjin’s brow furrow in concentration as he checked your corset, you couldn’t help but notice how intimate the moment was. “You were only fifteen when the former king passed away.”

“I was groomed for this role all my life,” Hyunjin hummed, slipping his finger into a few of the corset layers to loosen it just a little so you could breathe easier, “Ever since I was born, every waking moment was spent preparing me to be king, and yet, when I stood up there, I never felt more like an imposter than at that moment.”

It was surprising, hearing that Hyunjin, such a cool, levelheaded monarch even at his young age didn’t feel like he belonged on that throne, even though he of all people deserved to sit in it. You didn’t think that he did before, but after seeing him, spending every day supporting him, you realized that, beneath his disarming smile, his heart was gentle and he cared oh so much.

“My Queen,” your eyes widened as you felt Hyunjin take your hands in his, and you turned to face him, admiring the beautiful features that adorned his face. You could count his eyelashes, gazing into the plethora of hazel brown shades in his soft eyes, his soft, plump lips looking so kissable.

Hyunjin held your hands delicately, rubbing his thumbs against the back of them in an effort to soothe your worries, “You will be the most beloved Queen that the kingdom has ever had,” he murmured, “It might not be immediate, and it might not be in the next week, but there’s no one else that is worthy of the title.”

“When will I feel that way?” You swallowed as you looked into his eyes, letting your vulnerability show, “When will I ever feel that I’m ready?”

The king smiled at the question, squeezing your hands, “You won’t,” he said, an almost bitter taste to his words, “You will never stop second guessing yourself, no matter how long you wear that crown,” Hyunjin didn’t mince his words, knowing that you didn’t need shallow reassurance right now. You needed the truth.

“But, you can’t stop just because you don’t believe you’re ready,” he continued, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “Just know, you’re enough. You will always be enough.”

Goddamnit, Hyunjin was making it very hard for you not to fall in love with him.

You took a deep breath, grounding yourself as you felt the tension leave your shoulders, “Feel better?” Hyunjin gave you an encouraging smile, seeing you that you looked more like your usual self.

“Much,” you smiled up at him, reaching a gentle hand up to brush a stray strand of hair away from his face.

An hour later, you knelt before Hyunjin on the velvet carpet your head dipped down as the king recited the vows, the vows in which you were taking as the new queen. The pews were filled to the brim with people of all kinds, merchants, farmers, blacksmiths, maids, everyone eagerly trying to get a glimpse of you, your dress, your appearance.

You repeated the vows, and with the dumb stroke of luck, your nerves refused to get the best of you, and you managed to go through the three-page long speech without any major slips. The crowd let out gasps of wonder as the crown, a marvelous artifact in itself with its gold base, its red rubies and diamond embellishments, was taken off its safe place on a red cushion. And with the gentlest of touches, Hyunjin slipped the crown atop your head as you looked down at the ground beneath his feet. As you lifted your head, you could’ve sworn Hyunjin had given you the most fleeting of winks, but you felt an ease flood through your jittery bones.

He stretched out his hand to you, gentle and inviting, and you slipped your hand in his, letting him help you up. Subconsciously, you held back the sudden urge to lean forward and press your lips against his. Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin was restraining himself from doing just that.

As the two of you turned to face the adoring crowd, Hyunjin called out in a booming voice, “Long live the Queen!”

The sentiment carried on and on, echoing in the halls as you held Hyunjin’s hand tightly. You could feel the glower on the faces on the nobles, glaring at you with constrained hatred, but you could care less. The people wanted you, accepted you as their queen, and that was more than enough for you.

Smiling up at Hyunjin, feeling relief flood through your bones, the two of you were filled with glee as the cup bearer came out with the two glasses of wine to complete the ceremony, the unification of the king and queen.

“Want to give them something to remember?” Hyunjin murmured in your ear, taking his own glass.

“And how do we do that?” You smiled, raising the glass of red wine to him gracefully.

The king’s eyes sparkled with a mischief that only appeared when he was truly happy, when he was utterly content, and one of his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you snug against him. The other, holding the wine glass in hand, looped around yours as the people began to clamor excitedly at the spectacle, “Like this, obviously.”

The close proximity made you blush, and you stared at Hyunjin, your heart pounding.

“What’s wrong?” He teased you, leaning closer, “Too shy?”

No, it wasn’t that, you thought as the two of you linked arms, getting ready to drink the wine together. All the moments your heart had fluttered, all the moments you felt as if time stood still whenever he held your hand, it all pieced together like a puzzle that was meant for only you to solve.

Ah, you really did love Hwang Hyunjin.

Tipping the glass upward, you caught sight of a small commotion in the pews behind Hyunjin. It sounded different from the excited squeals and gasps of the rest of the crowd at you and Hyunjin’s show of affection. It sounded almost like…

A man burst out from the seats, jumping over the rows as people screamed in terror and tried their best to get out of harms’ way. In that moment, you assumed he was here to attack you, especially with the manic look in his eyes and the razor sharp knife gripped in his hand. Hyunjin had warned you, after all, that not everyone in his kingdom was pleased that he’d married a princess from a foreign land they were at war with.

But he wasn’t aiming at you. He was aiming at Hyunjin.

Out of pure hatred and craze, he reached the two of you, slipping out of the guards’ grasp and advancing towards Hyunjin, his knife ready to sink into his heart. There wasn’t a moment left for hesitation, and in that split second, you lashed out, standing in front of Hyunjin and intercepted the knife with your hand.

Time stood still as your own life blood trickled down your arm, the horrified gasps of the crowd became irrelevant, and you finally got a good look of who was trying to kill your husband. Your eyes widened, and from the distant past, you recognized the man.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin’s voice broke you from your moment of epiphany, and you realized that the guards were already onto him, even as you gripped the knife harder, digging it further into your palm as the attacker struggled to pull it out.

“Wait,” you grit your teeth at the pain, glaring at the guards and tilting your head. Reluctantly, they pulled away from the man, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of watching this random person, this crazed attacker, hurt their newly crowned queen.

“Y/N--”

“I said, wait.”

Even Hyunjin froze at your tone, and the crowd died down, their earlier cries turning into conspiratorial whispers. What was the Queen doing? Has she gone mad? Is she ordering the King around?

Ignoring the commotion, the obvious stain that was now forming in your reputation, you looked the man straight in the eye and asked softly, “You’re...you’re one of my soldiers from the war, aren’t you?”

The man’s jaw went slack, utterly dumbfounded that his commander, and now his new queen had remembered him, a lowly foot soldier that lagged behind in the last regiments, “Your Majesty,” he stuttered over his own words. In his eyes, there was no anger left, only horror at what he had done, what he could’ve done, “I didn’t mean to--I only wanted some form of satisfaction.”

“I know,” you answered softly, loosening your grip on the knife as you noticed that his earlier resolve was crumbling. The man sank to his knees before you, and to the sheer horror of the noblemen in the crowd, you did the same for him, “I know. But this isn’t the way to achieve it.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y-your Majesty--” At last, the man dropped the knife and you let go, allowing the bloodied weapon to clatter to the floor. You ignored the rest of the world, you ignored the blood flowing freely from your wound, and you leaned forward, murmuring the words that you always uttered to your soldiers before every battle.

“Do you trust me?”

The man hesitated for a moment before answering softly, but without doubt, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

You smiled, “Then I will rebuild our kingdom in a way that will make you proud. I swear it.”

Knowing that your job was done, you backed away, and the man allowed the guards to take him away without any resistance. Then, from your right, you could hear Minho snicker under his breath, covering their mouths with mock politeness, and your face burned.

“Some queen she is.”

Despite the walls that you put up to hide your fears, your anxieties, you were only human, and you avoided the gaze of the crowd, knowing what they must think. A lowly queen that would bow before her own subjects, make promises to them rather than keeping her head high and mighty.

You didn’t regret what you did for a moment, but you knew how terrible this must look, and how awfully this might impact Hyunjin.

The sound of soft clapping made your ear twitch. Then, it grew louder, it grew into cheers, it grew into clamoring, until by the end, the hall was filled with the excited sounds of the people, drowning out the mocking laughter of the noblemen. You stared out into the crowd in dumbfounded awe as the roaring chant reverberated in your ears.

“Long live the Queen!”

ix.

“Ow!”

You let out a hiss of pain as you sat in your nightgown by the vanity, your injured hand outstretched so it could be treated properly.

Ryujin clicked her tongue in mild annoyance, “Hurts, right? Maybe you should remember that the next time you grab a blade with your bare hands!” She snapped as she dabbed at the cut with a purple salve that the doctor had given you.

Glancing at her, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “You get so mad when you’re worried.”

“Who says I’m worried?” Ryujin scoffed, but both of you knew she was playing a bluff. Of course she worried, she worried the most out of all of your handmaidens, only hiding it with her brash attitude.

A soft creak of the door alerted the both of you, and Ryujin was halfway out of her seat already to berate whoever was walking in without knocking when she froze, immediately dipping her head respectfully as Hyunjin stepped into the room.

You averted your eyes instantly, finding some very intricate patterns on the marbled floor as you refused to look at him. Hyunjin was the only person you haven’t spoken to since the coronation early that day, and there was no way he wouldn’t be angry.

Hyunjin raised a brow, noting your actions the moment he walked in. If there was one thing you always did, even since the first meeting, it was to look straight into his eyes. You were probably the first to do it with such vigor, staring back at him as if practically daring him to challenge you. It was hard not to notice when you suddenly began to look away.

“Ryujin, please fetch us some tea, if you will,” Hyunjin spoke lightly as he walked over to the vanity, standing beside the two of you.

Your maid glanced at you, and you gave her a weak smile, lifting your unharmed hand to rest on hers, “It’s alright. I can finish bandaging it, really.”

“Fine,” Ryujin stood up after a moment, brushing off her dress, “you better do it right. Don’t forget that time you refused to clean the cut on your leg after sword practice and the doctor threatened to chop your limb off when it got all gross and infected,” you could only stare at her back, utterly betrayed as she skipped off to do as the king commanded.

As the door shut behind her, you were hyper aware that it was only you and Hyunjin in the room, and the silence was more torturous than anything you’d ever experienced. Keeping your head down, you heard as Hyunjin took Ryujin’s earlier seat.

“Here,” you flinched a little as you saw his hand outstretched, his palm facing upwards.

“I’m...sorry…?”

“Your hand, please,” Hyunjin sighed, wanting more than anything to take your hand himself and bandage it as tightly as possible, but he’d wait. He’d always wait.

Hesitantly, you extended your hand, resting it on his with your palm facing up, giving him a clear view of the rather ghastly cut, which went deeper than he’d assumed earlier. With delicate fingers, he scooped up a dollop of the salve before gently applying it. You immediately recoiled at the sting, but Hyunjin gripped your hand tightly.

“Keep still,” he said firmly, focusing all his attention on treating your cut. You glanced at the way his fingers gently pressed against your palm, the way he handled you with such care, care that you’ve never experienced before, and slowly, the guilt the coiled in your stomach began to crawl up and out of your throat.

“Hyunjin, I’m--”

“Why did you do that?”

His voice was tight as he interrupted you, reaching over to the vanity table and grabbing the roll of gauze while he waited for your answer. You didn’t speak for a long moment because--if you were being completely honest--you weren’t sure what came over you at that moment.

“He was a soldier in my army during the war,” you explained cautiously as Hyunjin began to wrap the bandages around your hand, “He was obviously more desperate than malicious, and–”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hyunjin’s patience finally snapped as he tied the bandage tightly, causing you to let out a wince. You finally looked at his face out of confusion, and he gripped your wrist, holding up your injured hand.

“Why did you do this?” He clenched his jaw as everything that he'd bottled inside since the coronation spilled out of his lips, and he stared into your eyes with such an intensity, it felt as if you were being consumed by his desperation, “The blade could've been rusted, poisoned, anything! What if you ended up having to amputate your whole hand just because of this? What if you died? Did you even think about yourself for a moment?”

“I didn't,” you said softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you confessed, “I wasn't thinking about myself at all, alright?”

Hyunjin looked taken aback, “Then what were you thinking?” He asked, his voice still hard as he clutched your hand in his, “What on earth were you thinking about that could possibly make you risk your own life--”

“I was thinking about you!” You finally blurt out, looking down at your lap, too ashamed to even look him in the eye as your voice grew weak, “All I could think about was you, you getting hurt, and I realized that I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

A tense silence filled the room as you waited for Hyunjin to snap, to scoff at your weakness, to realize that you weren’t as strong as he once imagined you to be.

Your eyes widened when you felt gentle fingers tilt up your chin, guiding you to look up at Hyunjin. To your surprise, he looked almost pained as he shifted closer to you, his thumb brushing your cheek as he whispered, “Don’t say that.”

Confused, you let Hyunjin caress your soft cheeks, seeing that he looked almost desperate to touch you, “Say what?” You probed gently, reaching to rest your fingers on the back of his hand.

“That you don’t want to lose me. Don’t say things that m-make me think you love me,” Hyunjin’s voice sounded so utterly weak, and he studied your face as if you were the most previous jewel in the world. Did he always stare at you like that?

You swallowed nervously before asking softly, “What if I do love you?”

The reaction was instantaneous. Hyunjin closed the distance between your lips, smashing his against yours with so much emotion and desire that you were almost dizzy. He rested his hand on the nape of your neck, gently brushing your soft locks off of your shoulder as he deepened the kiss. This time, there wasn’t an ounce of resistance in your body. All you wanted to do was to let him in, let him sweep you off your feet and hold you close.

Hyunjin shifted, slipping an arm around your waist, and he easily lifted you in his arms, carrying you to the bed without once pulling away from the intoxicating feeling of your soft lips. Oh, how he missed them, how he’d dreamed of them for nights on end, not one dream as perfect as the reality.

“I love you,” he murmured as his lips trailed down from your cheeks to your jaw and all the way to the soft skin of your neck, “I loved you for so long.”

Even in your blissful state, you managed to grasp the meaning of his words and you choked out between his frantic kisses, “H-how long?”

“Since the wedding, I’ve known that you were going to my one and only, my one true love,” Hyunjin said softly before pulling away. He gazed down at your state, both of your hands on either side of your head, your hair fanned out on the pillow beneath you. You looked like a goddess, and he’d spend every night thanking the gods that you were his.

“I never thought--I never even imagined,” Hyunjin rambled on as he dived for your neck, sucking gently as you let out a soft noise at the sensation. It almost drove him mad, “I never even dreamed that you would say yes, much less accept me at all--”

“It’s true,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as your fingers reached up, carding gently through his hair, “It didn’t happen overnight, but now I realize. I love you.”

Hyunjin let out a groan at your words as they resonated in his heart, causing it to pound uncontrollably. He pulled away just for moment, his lips hovering over yours as his hands trailed down your sides cautiously, “I love you too, my Queen. So much,” he said, pecking your lips.

You couldn’t help but smile, chuckling softly as you looked up at him, “Your Queen,” you repeated the title, finding that you loved it very much.

“Well, you are,” Hyunjin smiled in return, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before leaning down again, pressing his lips again yours as he mumbled, “my beautiful queen. The love of my life.”

Blushing, you threaded your fingers through his hair as he deepened the kiss, sucking and nibbling at your lips, causing you to giggle. Nothing felt rushed, nothing felt like one side was trying quickly to quench their desperation. It was just love, contentment, the purest form of peace.

Eventually, Hyunjin’s hands made it down to your legs, ghosting over your skin as he slipped a hand under your nightgown, freezing as he made it to your upper thigh, “Tell me if you want to stop,” he whispered, pecking your cheek.

You stared up at him, full of love and adoration as you brushed his long black hair away from his face, “I don’t ever want you to stop,” you replied with a gentle smile, and Hyunjin never denied you of anything. He dipped down, his hands playing with the hem of your gown as the two of you finally surrendered to each other, letting the world slip away until the only thing that mattered to you was Hyunjin, and the only thing that mattered to Hyunjin was you. Always you.

Ryujin never came back with your tea, having decided to leave the two of you alone when she’d first turned into the corridor. A smug smile curled on her face, and she rushed off to tell the other handmaidens that they owe her ten gold coins.

epilogue.

You were awoken with gentle lips caressing your cheek, fingers lightly dancing over your bare waist. Mumbling softly, your eyes fluttered open and your gaze fell upon Hwang Hyunjin, who was resting on his elbow as he looked down at your previously sleeping figure with nothing but pure love in his expression.

“Morning,” you smiled sleepily, giggling as Hyunjin leaned down, nuzzling his face against your cheek.

“Sleep well?” He asked, his voice scratchy from just waking up. Even so, he couldn’t seem to get enough of you, running his hand up and down your side as his lips trailed from your own lips to your cheeks to your neck.

You hummed in response, playing lightly with his hair as you looked at the sunlight spilling into the window, signaling a new day, “I don’t think we did a lot of sleep, though,” you commented, smiling when Hyunjin pulled away, pouting at you.

“Can’t you let me be romantic just once?” He whined a little as he kissed down your body, kissing your shoulder, your collarbones, your chest, trailing down until he stopped at the soft skin of your tummy.

You giggled as he paused, squirming as he drew circles with his fingers on the skin before pressing a long, gentle kiss to it, “Mm...I hope you’re pregnant…”

“Hyunjin!”

“What?” Hyunjin laughed as he dodged your light swats of indignance, crawling back up to pull you into his chest, “We’d have our little heir, and it would get those good for nothing nobles off your back,” his voice held more bite as his jaw clenched.

You placed a hand on his chest, drawing soothing circles, “Don’t worry about them,” you murmured softly, looking up into Hyunjin’s eyes, “Just for today, just this once, let’s not worry about them at all.”

Hyunjin smiled, pulling you closer as his lips brushed yours.

“I don’t have a problem with that at all.”

fin.

a/n: a sincere thank you to anyone who made it this far ;;_;;

#inkidz #districtninewriters #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin blurbs #skz oneshots #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz blurbs #my fics #skz x reader #skz x y/n #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids x reader

1K notes · View notes