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valleyof-goldenlilies · 9 months

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Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 6: The Secrets of The Red Keep (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 6: The Secrets of The Red Keep

In the Red Keep, it’s not just the rats that creep, but secrets too. And in the game of thrones, secrets kill as much as rats carrying plague do.

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

Warnings: Lots of stuff happening, Viserys being an L as always, Y/N being kind of an ass, slow burnnnnnnnnnn

Word Count: 7.7k words (so. much. is. happening.)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: Here it is, you guys! I’m so sorry it came later than expected 😭 and that it is much longer than expected too. But I snuck in a Daemon cameo at the end so 😁 I hope you guys enjoy!

lovely dividers courtesy of @firefly-graphics !

It was drawing nigh six months since Prince Daemon’s disinheritance and subsequent departure to Dragonstone. All across the realm, winter had reached its end, and flecks of green have begun dotting the bare trees once more. The smallfolk’s chatter and laughter grew gradually in abundance, as with spring always comes the promise of new beginnings.

The nobles too, harboured the hope for new beginnings. Gowns and coats of fur were swapped out for attire of lighter fabrics, and the misery caused by the chill of winter were replaced with eager ambition to propel themselves into the centre of power. And no one seemed to exemplify that more than the Lady Y/N Tyrell.

Gone was the devoted, yet somewhat prickly and brash lady-in-waiting of the late Queen. In its place, was someone much changed. Where in the past she had served Queen Aemma, these days, she was akin to a second shadow to the Princess Rhaenyra, heir to the Iron Throne, even moreso than her usual companion, the Lady Alicent. The kinder whispers expressed gladness that the Lady Y/N had taken pity on the Princess, who had lost her mother at such a young age, and had stepped up as a maternal figure in an act of benevolence. The more vicious gossips, however, sniggered that mayhaps Lady Y/N had been possessed by the spirit of a particularly determined leech. “The rose sinks its thorns into another dragon after one passes,” they mocked.

All these whispers you heard, but you simply did not possess the means to care. ‘Words are wind,’ you scoffed to yourself. Although…Tis’ true you were leveraging on your close connections with the Princess…but it was for self preservation. With Aemma and Daemon gone, you had gotten close to Rhaenyra, becoming something akin of a mother figure to her, which made your influence at court grow exponentially. Having the favour of the heir to the throne was a powerful thing, and you intended to use it to serve your own means. However, you couldn’t shake off your feeling of guilt for using Rhaenyra this way. You oft wondered if Aemma would approve of you doing so if she was still alive. But if she were…then there would have been no need for you to do this. You swallowed down the painful lump in your throat. It doesn’t matter now, you told yourself sternly. The dead are the dead, as Daemon said, and as long as you were alive, you would do whatever it takes to make sure you stayed at the Red Keep.

You arrived at the castle sept, where Rhaenyra was standing to the side while Alicent was kneeling in the midst of prayer. You curtsied to Rhaenyra, whose face lit up as soon as she saw you, though it did little to lighten the visible gloom on her face.

“Your Grace,” you greeted softly. “I told you so many times that you should call me by my name, Y/N,” Rhaenyra chided softly. You smiled apologetically, “Apologies, it is a force of habit.” Rhaenyra smiled wistfully, “You always called me by my name when Mother was…” her voice trailed off and her head drooped. You tilted your head in Alicent’s direction, “You’re not praying?” Rhaenyra hesitated, “I must confess that I’ve never really prayed before..”

You smiled, guiding her to where Alicent was kneeling. “Well, no time to begin like the present, then.” You took notice of the figure she was praying to: The Mother. How fitting.

Kneeling down next to Alicent, you felt Rhaenyra tentatively do so next to you. Alicent offered the both of you candles, and you showed Rhaenyra how to light them. The three of you knelt there in silence for a while, minds occupied with your own vastly different thoughts. “I find…” Alicent spoke gingerly, “That this is a way to be with my mother. Here in the quiet of the sept.” She hesitates, looking back at the statue of the Mother. “Does it sound foolish?”

“I don’t think it sounds foolish,” Rhaenyra piped up next to you.

Alicent smiled at that, before turning to you, observing how your eyes were watching the figure of the Mother pensively. “Do you pray often, Y/N?” You smiled wistfully, “Piety was never one of my stronger suits, I’m afraid. But I remember…when I lost my lady mother, I prayed day and night that I wouldn’t be sent back to Highgarden.”

“You disliked your home?” Rhaenyra asked softly. You pondered over her question, before shaking your head slightly. “To me, Highgarden never really felt like home. Perhaps it was because I had been born and raised in the Red Keep for most of my days, but I consider King’s Landing to be my only home.” You didn’t tell her that it was the looming threat of your duties as the sole daughter of House Tyrell that kept you from recognising Highgarden as your home. Rhaenyra nodded sagely.

“I’m…I’m afraid I’m not quite sure what to pray to the Mother for,” Rhaenyra hesitantly says, “Should I pray for anything specific?” You smiled wistfully, “You only need to follow your heart. The Gods will listen to you if your sincerity can be felt.” Alicent nodded in agreement, and the three of you lapsed into silence once more, praying on your own. You closed your eyes, and Aemma flashed into your memories. She was always smiling at you then, and your heart ached deeply whenever you remembered her.

“...the day of the tourney,” Alicent and Rhaenyra turned to you inquisitively, as you took a deep breath, letting the scent of the smoke sooth you, “I told you I was never religious, but that day…I prayed to the Mother fervently. For your mother, for Aemma to have a smooth labour.” You smiled bitterly, “But it seemed, the gods had a different plan for your mother.”

Rhaenyra sniffled softly. “It feels refreshing to hear you talk about my mother,” she admits after a pause. “No one, not even Father, seems to want to talk about her. They always change the subject. It’s like her memory is something unpleasant. Something to be avoided..”

You took her hand, feeling as though you might cry yourself. “The subject is painful,” she continues, “But I don’t want to forget. I don’t want anyone to forget. I cannot bear for my mother to only be spoken about in riddles and hushed tones. I want to remember her…I just don’t understand why Father doesn’t seem to want to.”

Alicent glanced at the both of you, biting her lip softly. “When my mother died…my father and brother wanted to forget about her too. And admittedly, I did too.” You put your other hand on Alicent’s, and she smiled ruefully at you. “I hid my grief, trying to continue with my life with the same bravery my father and brother had…but I found myself unable to. So the sept is my refuge. It’s where I can express my grief without feeling like it’s something to be ashamed of.”

“Grieving is nothing to be ashamed of,” you told her gently, “Grief is what keeps the memory of a person alive, even if they’ve long passed. To remember what kind of person they were to you, and to honour how they made you who you were now. Grief does a service to our loved ones who have passed.”

Rhaenyra smiled bitterly, “I think Father needs to hear that.” You smiled at that, patting her hand softly, “Everyone grieves in their way, Rhaenyra. You might not see it, but I’m sure your father mourns your mother too, though it may be in a way different to yours.”

Rhaenyra pondered on that, turning her gaze back to the candles. “...mayhaps you’re right.” You squeezed her hand, and she squeezed it back. You turned to look at Alicent, and she grasped your hand tightly in hers, her expression warm. Though getting close to both of them was naught but a political machination initially…you found yourself growing to care more and more for these two girls everyday. So different we all are, you thought to yourself, yet so similar we are too. You turned back to the Mother, as you said one last prayer to her, “I hope…that the three of us can always be like this. That no matter what, when the world seems bleak…we can all be truthful with one another, and depend on each other.”

It has been six months, but you find that you are still unable to school your features into absolute indifference as you watch Viserys digging into his meal with a notable lack of enthusiasm.

Pursing your lips, you focused your attention back onto cutting into the veal on your plate. Ever since Aemma’s death, you had been hesitant in seeking out Viserys’ company voluntarily, despite Daemon having advised you to take the opportunity to get close to Viserys for protection. Out of all of Daemon’s advice you had reluctantly heeded, this one unsettled you the most. But as it turned out, you had not needed to make the first move. Viserys had (quite unfortunately) taken to summoning you to his apartments more oft than not in the past six months for meals, or even just for idle conversation. And the usual topic of conversation? The late wife that Viserys had cut open. You would find it funny if the topic itself did not constantly make you want to hurl something at Viserys. Viserys seemed determined to cling onto the vestiges of Aemma’s memory through you, Aemma’s cherished companion. Although after today’s conversation at the sept, you found it strange that Viserys seemed reluctant to broach the topic of Aemma with Rhaenyra, but with you, it was different. Why exactly was it so, you did not know, but…as long as it kept you at the Red Keep, then you would stomach as many conversations as Viserys wanted to have about Aemma.

Which was why you nearly dropped your fork when Viserys asked you if you knew about Daemon’s current occupation of Dragonstone. Clearing your throat, you deliberated on the reason for the sudden change of topic, but quickly answered, “It would be a miracle if someone had not heard about that.” Viserys chuckles, a rare deviation from his usual melancholic mood during your dinners. “As always, you are unfettered in your nature of speaking. I only wished more people would be like you.”

You were unsure on how to respond to that. Viserys sighed, “It would not be such a bother if it had been only Daemon on the island, but he had to take nearly half the City Watch with him as well. Does he truly desire to wage war against me, his own brother? With that meagre army of his?” You recalled Daemon’s words that fateful night, and bit your lip. So this was what he meant. You knew that with Daemon’s abscondence along the City Watch, King’s Landing had became more susceptible to looting, raping and other violent crimes. The Small Council was oft engaged in heavy debate as of late on how to tackle this problem, and that must have been Daemon’s plan all along. To sow chaos in King’s Landing. You sighed, cutting into your veal. Daemon…he may not look it, but there is always a certain calculative edge to his seemingly impulsive actions. The promise to make a point.

“I’ve half a mind to go to Dragonstone and confront him myself,” you snapped back to reality when you heard Viserys bang down his cutlery frustratedly. “If the Small Council had not dissuaded me otherwise, I would’ve done so.” You grimace, “Viserys, that would be unwise. You and I both know more than anyone of Daemon’s nature. He means to continue throwing this…tantrum so that he may garner your attention. You shouldn’t pay heed to his antics. Mayhaps he will come to his senses sooner or late.”

“Mayhaps is a strange word for never,” Viserys muttered, picking up his fork and knife again. You stifled a laugh by lifting another spoonful of soup to your lips. “Regardless, it would not be fitting for you to go to Dragonstone. What would the realm say, seeing their king having to go and plead with his brother to curb his foolishness? The dissenters will see it as weakness, as they did with Aenys and Maegor. You should listen to your advisors’ counsel, Viserys.” Viserys sighed, leaning back against his seat. “I suppose you’re right. However; this leaves me at a bind on what to do with him. Lord Corlys has been singing this wretched tune for nigh six months, and he will continue to do so if I do not act soon to put Daemon in his place.”

The two of you lapsed into silence. You picked at the remaining veal on your plate anxiously. “And other than the mounting pressure to deal with Daemon, the Small Council, in particular Lord Corlys, has also been pushing me on the subject of remarriage.” You froze. “...remarriage?” Your heart was pounding furiously, having not expected this sudden turn of events. You knew it would be expected of Viserys to do so, to secure the line of succession, but he always seemed so catatonic in grief over Aemma that you thought he would never take a second wife. Moreover, should his new wife sire him sons, Rhaenyra’s claim would surely be disputed by the lords of the realm. Viserys nodded wearily, “Lord Corlys has even nominated a candidate, his own daughter, Lady Laena.”

You wrinkled your nose, “Isn’t she naught but a girl of 12?” Viserys sighed, “Indeed. Much too young…though it seems not for Lord Corlys’ ambition.” You felt your appetite slip away at that. “And what do you think of this match?” Viserys smiles ruefully, “I was actually looking to hear your opinions. You always speak with unbridled truth, and it would do me good to hear from an unbiased perspective.”

You purse your lips, surprised. He was asking for your opinion an awful lot these days. “If you’re seeking counsel on the qualities of Lady Laena, I must confess I do not have a clearly formed opinion. But speaking from a political perspective…it would be an advantageous match for both houses. It would join both of your houses of Valyrian blood in one once more.” Viserys lets out a soft snort, “Advantageous? Lord Corlys and my cousin only proposed this match to put their own blood on the throne. They care not for the unity of our houses. Lord Corlys only wishes to see a king of Velaryon blood on the Iron Throne, and to correct the slight that Rhaenys faced at the Great Council.”

“Be that as it may,” you interjected, “You cannot deny it is a brilliant match. Is it not better to join the blood of the dragon in one single line again? This will prevent any more dragonriders from emerging from House Velaryon, and consolidate the power of House Targaryen in a single bloodline once more.” You were startled when Viserys suddenly let out a bark of laughter, “You know, you sound exactly like Daemon. With how the both of you are constantly stressing about the importance of retaining the power of House Targaryen.” You froze, feeling offended, but then the indignation fades away. It wasn’t entirely a bad thing, after all, Daemon was the person who had opened your eyes to the naivety that blinded you from seeing reason in your grief. Instead of feeling insulted, you felt like you should feel…proud? You shuddered, the thought of being proud thanks to sharing qualities with Daemon fucking Targaryen of all people being too much to bear.

Viserys lets out a slow exhale, looking regretful. “All this talk of remarriage sickens me,” Viserys mutters. “Because despite all this quibbling, nothing will ever come close to Aemma. I do not wish to replace her. I imagine she will be deeply upset at the thought of it.”

You frowned, holding back the urge to shout at Viserys why he had chosen to cut Aemma open if that were the case. But alas, the truth oft can never be expressed freely. You took several deep breaths, formulating a response in your head, as you spoke gently, “Remarriage may seem daunting, Viserys, but it is inevitable. It is your duty to the realm, and I’m sure Aemma will understand that.” Viserys sighs before laughing softly, “I suppose you’re right, Y/N. Duty is inescapable, especially when you’re a king. Very well, I shall arrange to see Lady Laena to discuss a possible betrothal as soon as possible.”

You did not know what to feel about that, happy? Aggrieved? Angry? “That reminds me,” Viserys spoke up, getting out of his seat and walking to you. You watched him curiously as he fumbled in his pockets to draw something out. “I…think that you should have this.” Your eyes widened when you saw that he was holding the ruby falcon necklace that Rhaenyra had gotten Aemma. “The Silent Sisters retrieved this from Aemma. I’ve held onto it for the past six months but,” Viserys smiled bitterly, “I felt like it would only be right for you to have this. Aemma was as dear to you as much as she was to me, and with my remarriage…I do not think it is right for me to hold on to it anymore.” You took the necklace gingerly and cradled it in your hands, feeling torn. Viserys put a hand on your shoulder gently, “Let this serve as not just a token of remembrance for Aemma…but also as one of gratitude. From me towards you for your counsel, steadfast loyalty, and friendship. I want you to know that despite how bereft I am over Aemma’s passing, I am thankful that you have continued to stay by my side.” Conflict consumed you as you looked up at your old friend. You thought you hated him for doing what he did to Aemma, but it seems your old friendship prevents you from detesting him completely. It was so difficult to completely hate someone who you've known your entire life, and has only looked out for you, despite his position of power.

You rested your hand atop his and smiled tentatively, “Thank you, Viserys. This gesture means a lot to me…and I want you to know that I am grateful for you too. I will always be by your side, no matter what” Viserys flashed you a genuine smile for what seemed like the first time in months, “Thank you, Y/N. Truly.”

Two weeks later, you were striding towards Viserys’ solar, a book in your hands, a smile on your face. Viserys and you had been discussing about the structure of a temple of a Valyrian deity for the past few days, and you were delighted when you found a book that contained descriptions of how temples of that particular deity were constructed in the empire of Yi Ti and the Old Empire of Ghis, immediately setting off to Viserys’ chambers to share it with him. You also remembered that today was the day that Viserys was due to walk with the Lady Laena to discuss the marriage pact between their houses. You had no doubt he would be feeling discouraged after that, and you hoped the book would lift his spirits.

You nodded at Ser Steffon Darklyn, who was standing guard outside the King’s solar, and bustled into the room like you did many times before. What you did not notice however, was the man’s panicked look as he remembered the King was busy with another visitor when you entered.

You swept into Viserys’ solar, a grin on your face, “Viserys, I found something of interest-'' But you nearly dropped the tome as you came to a dead halt, staring at the dismayed figures of both King Viserys and Lady Alicent - who were far too close together for your liking - in shock. A dead silence blanketed the room, before Viserys began appealing to you, “Y/N, this is not what it looks like-”

Suddenly, Ser Steffon’s voice came from the door, “Your Grace, the Hand is requesting for an audience.” Viserys sighed, looking between the door and your accusatory expression. “Let him in, Ser Steffon.”

The Hand entered the room, bowing to the King. He didn’t seem surprised to see Alicent here, you realised with growing indignation. Otto Hightower, that cunt, looked a little taken aback at your presence, however it was quickly smoothed over by his grim expression.

“Your Grace, I’ve called the Small Council to an emergency session. An incident has-”

“Can the matter wait?” Viserys demanded, walking over to you, but you backed away, unable to look him in the eye as you tightened your grip on the ancient tome. “I’m afraid not, Your Grace. There has been a problem,” Otto paused, eyeing you and Alicent, clearly unsure whether he should say it in front of the both of you. “At Dragonstone.”

Daemon, your heart thudded in your chest. What did he do now?

“Gods be good,” Viserys muttered. “I understand. I will be there shortly. I have a pressing matter at hand.” With that, Viserys turned to you, his expression becoming sombre as he murmured, “I think I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t,” you whisper, a betrayed look on your face. “You owe one to Lady Laena. To Rhaenyra. To Aemma.”

Viserys sighed, suddenly looking like he aged five years in an instant. You were aware of the Hand’s heavy gaze upon you and Viserys, as well as Alicent’s anxious one. “I swear to the Seven that it is not what it looks like, Y/N.”

“Then pray tell, whatever good reason can there be for this…gathering?” you whispered harshly. “This does not seem like a one-off incident, am I right?”

“It is true this was not…a first occurrence,” Viserys looked nervously at Alicent, who was picking at her fingernails again. He placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch. A sadness dawned in his eyes at your reaction, “I…I will explain it all to you later. But I need you to swear to me that you will not tell Rhaenyra. I’m afraid she will misunderstand-”

“Your Grace,” Otto speaks up, causing the both of you to turn your gazes to him. You felt queasy when you saw the intrigued look in his eyes. “I’m afraid your conversation will have to wait. This matter is truly urgent.” Viserys sighed, looking at you pleadingly, “Please, Y/N. I promise, I will tell you everything later. Just…help me keep this secret, just once, alright?” You couldn’t do anything but press your lips into a thin line. Seeing there was no use begging you anymore, Viserys only lowered his head shamefully, patting your shoulder before leaving the room. Otto gave you and Alicent one last look, one that you returned with a glare, before he inclined his head and turned to follow the King.

As the door closed, you and Alicent stood there, an uncomfortable silence blanketing the room. You were the first to break it, “How long has this been going on?”

Alicent cast her eyes downward, “Nigh six months, my lady.” Her voice was quiet, timid. You crossed over the room to her, arms crossed in disapproval. “Your father ordered you to do so, didn’t he?” “...yes,” Alicent whispered tearfully. Your heart twists. As angry as you were, it was not directed to Alicent, but to Viserys, and the Hand. For once, you finally understood Daemon’s intense dislike of the Hand, and how appropriate it had been when he called him a leech. ‘Yet again, Daemon is proven correct,’ the bittersweet thought caused your lips to quirk upward. ‘Who knew he was such a patron of wisdom.’ You were silent as you let your thoughts deliberate the information you just learnt, before you spoke up once more.

“Speak truthfully with me,,” your voice was firm, demanding, “Does the King intend to take you as a bride, instead of Lady Laena?” Alicent was silent for a moment, before she spoke in a trembling whisper, “It would appear so.”

You massaged your temples. Gods be good. “And is that what you desire?” Alicent hesitates, looking torn. “It would be a great honour,” she murmurs, although her voice was lacking in conviction. “It would mean I would be Queen. There is no greater way to bring honour to House Hightower.” You waved your hand in the air dismissively, “Aside from honour, I’m asking you if this is what you want. And do not tell me that it is, just because your father or your House wills it. What I want to hear is if you, Alicent Hightower, want this marriage.” You lowered your voice, demand turning into solemnity, “The path of marriage…it is no easy one, Alicent. And you are still young, there is much of life you have not yet experienced.” You took a deep breath, voice shaking slightly, “You saw…what happened to the late Queen. The pressure to produce an heir…and eventually, she gave her life for it. Is this the sort of life you want to resign yourself to?”

Alicent bit her lip, a tear trickling down her face. “I do not have a choice, do I?” You were aghast, “Of course, you have a choice. Everybody can dictate their life the way they choose. You need not resign yourself to the will of others. That is no way to live, Alicent.”

Alicent gives you a bitter smile, still not meeting your eyes. “It is fortunate that you have the liberty to think so, my lady. But it is a concept I am unfamiliar with, and one that I can never grow to fully experience.” You wanted to protest, but you kept silence as you watched Alicent blink back tears, “I’ve learnt from a young age…the inevitability of duty. Run as you may, in the end, this freedom you speak of…it can never be ours. Everyone has a role to play in life, and the women are expected to play it exceptionally well. Noblewomen especially. We were born in this life to serve our fathers, our lords, our husbands, our houses. The thought of freedom is wonderful yes, but you soon realise, it slips through your fingers slowly, until all that is left is duty. Since duty is inescapable, no matter how reluctant I may be, I have learnt that accepting it earlier will cause me less hurt, instead of thinking foolish thoughts.” She finally meets your gaze, eyes filled with solemn determination. “Thank you for your concern, my lady. But this is a choice I have made. You would not change my mind, and I suspect I will not change yours. However, I hope you will respect my opinions on the matter.”

You face was impassive, but your eyes were filled with sorrow. How wise she was for a girl so young. And how crushing the weight of knowledge can be. You continued to say nothing, instead gently prying apart Alicent’s clenched fingers, examining the wounds on her fingernails. “Come, let me help you put some ointment on them. I got some from the Maesters after the tourney.”

Your mind was in a haze as you departed the King’s solar. Alicent’s words struck a deep chord in you. You always assumed that everyone would want the choice to pursue the life their heart desires, regardless of their sex, but you never stopped to consider the people who didn’t have the chance to. You had flouted the idea of duty for years, despising it, but seeing Alicent, who willingly embraced the burden of it…it made you feel ashamed.

Consumed with your thoughts, you didn’t notice a hurried figure approaching until you both collided, nearly knocking each other to the ground. The other person grabbed you to steady you before you fell. Your eyes widened with shock at the guilty figure in front of you. “Rhaenyra?” The princess shushed you, pulling you to a dark corner. “What are you doing?” you whisper furiously, upon noticing her dressed in her dragonriding gear. “Are you sneaking out? At this hour?”

Rhaenyra was bouncing on her heels impatiently, looking like she might take flight herself at any moment. “To Dragonstone. Daemon has stolen my brother’s egg, he intends to gift it to his mistress’ bastard child.” You were startled, and outraged at that. He would go to such great lengths just to get his brother’s attention? Sometimes you wonder if being a cunt was just in Daemon’s nature. “Please help me keep it a secret, Y/N,” Rhaenyra implored. If it weren’t for you gripping onto Rhaenyra’s forearms, you suspect she would have fled a long time ago. “Father shot me down when I suggested I fly there to retrieve the egg, and sent the Hand instead, but I have to go get it. It was my brother’s egg, I picked it out personally, Daemon has no right-” she struggled to find the words amidst her anger.

“I understand, go. I won’t tell a soul.” Rhaenyra looked at you with wide eyes. “Are you…serious?” You nodded, letting go of her. “I think you will be able to get through to Daemon. I believe in you. Now go, before your uncle decides to take the Hand’s head off with a sword and cause a war between House Hightower and House Targaryen.” Rhaenyra laughs, before unexpectedly pulling you into a hug. “Y/N…thank you. It feels nice to know that you have faith in me” You were startled, but you hugged her back, and patted her hair soothingly, a gesture you’ve seen Aemma do with Rhaenyra. “You’re more capable than you think, Rhaenyra. Now go,” you pulled away, eyes fixed with hers. “And make Aemma proud, Rhaenyra.” Rhaenyra nodded, a fierce look coming into her eyes. She shot you a brief smile before looking around furtively to make sure that no prying eyes were here to witness her escape, before sprinting away to the stables. You watched her go, biting your lip. Your conversation with Viserys and Alicent crossed your mind, and you felt a little regretful that you didn’t manage to tell Rhaenyra. But Viserys had begged you, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to say anything. You turned away, walking to the godswood, intent for some air. You had a feeling in your gut that sooner or late, all these secrets would culminate in an unpleasant ending.

Your words were proven true enough a few days later. You were reading a book in your chambers, when Rhaenyra burst into your room, nearly giving you a heart attack. You were ready to reprimand her, but one look at her furious, betrayed face, and you already knew. “He-” Rhaenyra bit out, “My father just announced he’s taking a new bride. Alicent.”

You leaned back in your seat, your heart sinking. So Viserys had gone with it after all. You felt disappointment dawning on you, as well as guilt as you watched Rhaenyra pace around the room frustratedly. “I just don’t understand, how? He was going to marry Lady Laena, he swore it to me yesterday, when did he even get acquainted with Alicent?” Rhaenyra swung back to face you again, but she froze when she caught sight of your guilty expression. “Seven hells,” she breathed out, “You knew?” You closed your book, standing up, “I did, but I didn’t expect-” Rhaenyra let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Save it, Y/N. I do not wish to hear it now. I thought I could trust you.” “Rhaenyra-” you beseeched, but she had already turned her heel and left, slamming the chamber door shut behind her. You sunk back down in your seat, your heart pounding. By the gods, what a mess.

Your chamber was once more the recipient of another visitor, though it might not have been the one you hoped for. “Rhaenyra?” you called out hopefully, only to be surprised when the timid form of Alicent appeared instead. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and you noticed fresh wounds on her nails once again. “Alicent…” you walked towards her, taking her hands in yours. Alicent began to cry then, and you drew her into your embrace, closing your eyes as you felt Alicent’s tears staining the front of your gown.

A while later, you had seated Alicent on your bed, observing her as she cradled in her hand the cup of tea a servant had fetched for her. “I thought I knew how heavy this burden was,” she spoke, her voice barely a whisper as she looked despondently into her cup. “But I wasn’t expecting it to feel so painful.” You chewed your lip, as you focused on applying the ointment to the fresh wounds on her left hand. “I thought I was prepared, but I did not realise this would mean I would lose Rhaenyra.”

Your heart was pounding as well, though not for the same reasons as Alicent. Rhaenyra’s backlash towards this announcement didn’t just signal an end to her ties with Alicent, but also with you. You remembered vividly how betrayed she had looked when she came to realise that you had known, and you had not told her. There was no coming back from that. Apart from your guilt however, you also felt a steady sense of despair building up in you. You had spent the past six months relying on the favour of Rhaenyra to prevent your expulsion from court and back home, how was that to go about now?

“Oftentimes, life changes in ways we cannot anticipate,” you began quietly, trying to think of your next steps. “But it is best not to dwell on it, to move on and adapt.” Alicent looked distraught at that, but she kept silent, save for the tear trailing down her cheek. You finished applying the ointment to Alicent’s left hand, moving onto her right hand. Suddenly, an idea struck you. “Alicent, I know this is a bit sudden,” you said gingerly, “But if I may…I would like to request to serve you as your lady-in-waiting.” Alicent looked surprised, though there was no anger in her expression, much to your relief. You were worried that you might have overstepped, but Alicent only put down her cup of tea and squeezed your hand, “I would be honoured to have you as my lady-in-waiting, Y/N.”

You had to refrain from sighing with relief, pleased that your gamble had worked out. You were banking on your close ties with Alicent now, and a queen’s power was surely more reliable than a princess’. At least, good enough to keep you at the Red Keep. Once again, you felt guilty for using Alicent this way, but it was not out of malicious intent either: you truly did care for Alicent like a daughter, much like you had with Rhaenyra. Besides…you realised that Alicent’s current predicament was much like that of your worst nightmares. The realisation left a bitter taste on your tongue. Alicent was everything you vowed you would never end up being, and watching all this unfold in front of you while you were powerless to stop it - it felt gut-wrenching.

“Y/N,” Alicent’s soft voice snapped you out of your reality. You looked at her questioningly, seeing hesitation in her eyes. “If I may ask…why did the King never choose to marry you?” You felt an initial urge to cringe, but then you realised it was a valid question, and a good one at that. “The King clearly cares for you, and values you greatly. And not to mention, you are the sole heir to Highgarden,” Alicent looked unsure, “It would be a prudent decision to marry you, a brilliant match, even. Far eclipsing the advantages of a union with the daughter of the Hand of the King. Why has the King never considered that?”

You fell silent, deep in thought. The points she made were excellent, and even though you felt discomfited by it, you were curious to know as well. In the end, you could only reply, “I do not know, Alicent.”

“Your Grace,” you greeted stiffly, curtsying to Viserys, much to his distress. He reached out to you, trying to help you up, but you only stepped away. The hurt on his face almost made you feel guilty for your coldness, but you couldn’t stand to look at him right now. If it hadn’t been for him summoning you to his solar, you would’ve continued giving him the cold shoulder.

Viserys sighed, giving up as he turned towards his model of the Old Valyria. His next question made you raise your eyebrows incredulously. “How is Rhaenyra coping with the news?” Unease grew in you, “Shouldn’t you be asking about Alicent instead, Your Grace?” Viserys grimaced at your use of formalities. “Alicent seems perfectly content, does she not? It is Rhaenyra whom I should be concerned about now.”

You frowned, “It is quite the opposite, actually. Rhaenyra is angry, but I’m sure she will calm down sooner or late.” Viserys seems assuaged by that, retreating to take a seat at the armchairs before the fireplace. “I am thankful to hear that.” You took a seat next to him, levelling a hard glare at him. “And what of Alicent?” Viserys looked surprised, “What of her?” “She seems distraught over this match.” Viserys furrowed his brows, “This union brings her more benefit than it does me, what does she have to be distraught about? She will be Queen.” You finally exploded, “And so?” you demanded, rising up from your seat. “It is clear that she is unhappy with this match. She came to me crying today, Viserys. She’s frightened by the prospect of this marriage. And it is clear that she is being used as a political pawn in her father’s games. How can you say she will not be distraught by this?” You half expected Viserys to get up and order you to leave, but he only sighed and washed a hand over his face. “Y/N,” he began slowly, gesturing for you to sit down. You refused, staring at him with defiant eyes. He sighed, sometimes you reminded him so much of Daemon that it was a wonder you were not a Targaryen yourself. That stubborn persistence and fiery temper…

“Alicent may be unhappy now, but I did not force her into this match.” He sighed again at your disbelieving expression, “Think of it this way, if she had vehemently opposed this match, she wouldn't have willingly visited my chambers every night without fail for the past six months. It was a scheme engineered by Otto, that I can see, but even so, Alicent wanted this. If she had been unwilling, she wouldn’t have taken the initiative to get closer to me, to indulge me in my interests.”

You were still frowning, but you slowly lowered yourself back into your seat. You didn’t want to believe in Viserys’ words, but he had no reason to lie. “Ambition is a fickle thing, Y/N,” Viserys turned his gaze to the fire. “Some men choose to deny it, to preserve the illusion of their humility. But the truth is, every man is akin to a starving man when he sees a banquet when it comes to power. Do not underestimate the temptation of power, Y/N. Many men claim they do not desire it, but no one can resist it. Alicent is no different. She may feel uncomfortable with this match at first, but there is a small sliver of her that covets this position, and the power she can wield with it.”

You chose to say nothing, but you tightened your grip on your armrests as Viserys spoke. Viserys sighed, turning his gaze back to you. “I have to be frank with you…my ideal match when I first heard the topic of remarriage being brought up, was you, Y/N.” You finally met his gaze again, mouth agape. “What?”

Viserys nodded wearily, “It would’ve seemed natural. After all, we grew up together, and you are one of the people I hold dearest to my heart. I would have been happy to take you as my wife.” Your stomach began to churn. “But, I knew…with your temperament, you would never be happy in this marriage with me.” Viserys smiled ruefully at you, “I knew Aemma would have never wanted me to trap you in an unhappy marriage, and I don’t either.”

“But you’re alright with trapping Alicent in an unhappy marriage instead?” you snapped. Viserys looked resigned, recognising that he would not be able to get through to you. “Alicent’s…distress over this match would fade sooner or late. Furthermore, I genuinely do care for Alicent’s wellbeing, and I will see to it she lacks for nothing as my queen.” “Material possessions do not equate to happiness, Viserys,” you said angrily. Viserys finally slams down his hand on his armrest, shocking you into silence. It was in rare moments like this where you are reminded that Viserys was still of the blood of the dragon, and that he was still your king. You grimaced, realising you might have spoken too carelessly.

“What would you have me do then, Y/N?” Viserys blustered angrily, “Do you think getting remarried brings me joy? Every time I think about it, the thought sends me into a spiral of despair. That I would have to take a new wife, sire new heirs, with someone whom I might not love. Alicent may not be Aemma, but I care for her a great deal, and I will not have you deny it.” Viserys sinks back into his seat, his rage slowly turning back into that resigned, mournful look you’ve seen him wear so much lately. His voice cracked a little as he spoke, “I’m just…so tired, Y/N. You are my closest confidant, and even you can’t seem to understand how I feel, what I’m going through. After Aemma, I find myself losing the will to go through my days more and more with each passing day. It feels like my life has been drained out of me. I never liked partaking in the intrigues of court either, and without Aemma, it has only grown harder to bear. Alicent lessened the burden of grief on my shoulders. When I was with her, it felt like I could just…be. No kingly duties, no responsibilities, no Small Council on my back, nitpicking my every move, scheming to consolidate power. She made me feel like I was just Viserys, a feeling I only experienced with you, Aemma, and Daemon.”

“...you really do care for her then?” you asked quietly. Viserys nods, looking earnest. “I do. Trust me, Y/N, I would not do anything to cause her unhappiness. And I believe as time passes, I will grow to feel love for her.” You played with your fingers uncomfortably, not knowing what to make of this conversation. Your insight into Viserys’ thoughts only sowed more conflict into your already torn feelings towards him, and you didn’t know what the right thing was to do anymore. The two of you stared into the roaring fire, as the solar was enveloped in a thick blanket of tense, pensive silence.

On Driftmark, there was silence as well. But this silence felt more taut, more dangerous, like a provoked beast who was readying to strike.

At least that’s what Daemon Targaryen thought as he took a swig of Arbor Gold from his goblet, taking in his surroundings. The Velaryons had a strange taste for decor, which he assumed was an acquired taste.

Lord Corlys sat from across him, a surly expression on his face as he spoke. Daemon couldn’t find it in him to pay attention to the man’s incessant complaints. His mind kept wandering back, much to his frustration, to his conversation with Mysaria a few days ago. Her words, her caution, her fear…so unlike a certain someone he knew.

His mind couldn’t help but chase thoughts of her wellbeing. Had she heeded his advice? Had he gotten through to her, even with her stubborn insistence? Surely she must know that he only wished for the best for her. She was like family to him after all.

Lord Corlys clears his throat, and Daemon slid his focus back to him, a bored look on his face. “You are aware the King has taken Alicent Hightower to wed?” Lord Corlys asks, a shifty look that Daemon couldn’t quite place filling his eyes. Daemon shot him an irate look. It was hard not to know, particularly since this matter was what led him to be sitting in this exact chair, listening to Lord Corlys blather about angrily.

“I heard that the Hightower girl has announced Lady Y/N as her chief lady-in-waiting.” This snapped Daemon back to attention. He took another sip of his wine to hide his smirk, ‘So she is cleverer than I gave her credit for.’

“I don’t see how that relates to why you asked me here, Lord Corlys,” Daemon’s voice was annoyed. Lord Corlys’ expression turned sly, “In all honesty, I had expected that the King might have taken Lady Y/N to be his bride instead. He gave off the impression he might.” Daemon’s eyebrows shot to his forehead, and he nearly choked on his wine. “I can assure you, Lady Y/N would never let that happen,” Daemon told Lord Corlys, voice dripping with amusement. “But he is the King. It is quite impossible to refuse an order from the King. And besides,” Lord Corlys’ lips quirked upwards, “I have heard that Lady Y/N is rather fond of your brother herself. She has been dining with him each night since Queen Aemma’s passing.”

Daemon tried to keep his expression impassive, but his grip on his goblet tightened. The thought of his brother taking Y/N to wed…it sent an odd, visceral feeling through him. Something that was akin to possessiveness and…jealousy? Mayhaps he was drunk. There was simply no way. No way at all.

Lord Corlys smirked, the Prince’s dark expression told him that he had been successful in inciting some anger in the Prince against the King. Which was exactly all he needed. And soon enough, it was official: Daemon Targaryen had just agreed to wage war on the Stepstones.

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish @urmomsgirlfriend1 @thelittleswanao3 @animelover18 @llovinjoonie @gracielikegrapes @salembridger @itszzmoon @kmmg98 @travelingmypassion @zae5 @norestfortheshelbywicked @soleilgrec @anehkael

Daemon General Taglist: @aiyaiy @kmmg98 @norestfortheshelbywicked

those who are bolded are those who couldn’t be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form!

A/N: so if you made this far, bless you. This was a very long chapter, so hats off to you for finishing it 💗 the next chapter will be much shorter, I promise, although it might take longer because i’m going on a short trip. hopefully i can get it done by next wednesday!

as always, if you loved this chapter, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you for your support 💗

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the-storytellers-seer · 9 months

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Fickle Muse

What was that, Lassie? Did Lirael fall into a well? No? She fell into a vat of radioactive goo and became a superhero? None of those things? She just somehow pissed off her muse and was unable to write anything even moderately decent?

Yeah so...hiiiii. I'm still here, trying to write.

I'm stuck trying to write Sarea and Teldryn's battle through Miraak's Temple with Frea. And there's a part of me that's wants to gloss over the whole nonsense, but another part of me that doesn't because I can't gloss over all the battles just because I don't enjoy writing them. Blarg.

In other news, I'm also working on a one-shot prompt. Again, set in the same timeline as Sarea's story. This time with everyone's favorite grumpy werewolf. Wherein introvert werewolf escorts extrovert alchemist girl to Windhelm and they solve a murder together.

It's totally a one-shot...even though it feels like it might be a really short three-chapter thing...

Anyway, here's a blurb:

The Imperial girl was back. Ostensibly, he knew she arrived every Morndas a few hours after sunrise, but her presence was something of a shock to his senses every week. So much so, that Vilkas preferred to stay far away from the hall when she arrived to deliver her packages to Tilma. It wasn’t just her voice—loud and excessively bright like a pealing bell, or her wide smile that she foolishly greeted everyone with like annoyingly insistent beam of sunshine after a night of carousing. No, it was her scent. The combination of lemons and lilacs--like the girl herself--was annoying bright and tooth-rottingly sweet. He'd made the mistake of lingering over his morning meal to speak with Skjor about the previous day's dragon attack—and the woman who’d devoured the beast’s soul—when his nose filled with the cloying scent of her…mere moments before her overly loud voice rang through the hall. “Good morning, Companions!” she crowed.

A few hullos echoed back to her. Vilkas gritted his teeth and stood, with barely a nod toward Skjor as he stepped away from the bench. The entirely wrong move as her sun-bright-on-the-snow smile aimed toward him. “Good morning…um…I’m sorry I have a hard time telling you and your twin apart, are you Farkas?”

Vilkas’ felt his teeth grind together and he took a breath through his nose in a vain attempt to calm himself. She was an idiot, he decided. A migraine-inducing idiot with less sense than a rabbit. His eyes slid shut briefly as he fought against the urge to tell her so. He was not some brash youth with more anger than sense anymore. He was a man grown and fully capable of calmly distancing himself—his calming inhalations had the unintended effect of drawing in more of the scent. The sweet, clean scent bringing to mind freshly washed linens drying in the mountain air, tangling up his thoughts for the briefest of moments. It caused him to step closer, his finely tuned senses detecting the increase in her heart rate, but not the scent of fear. When his eyes slid open, he was much closer to her than he’d intended. Her small face tilted upwards at an almost comical angle given the fact that the top of her head barely came up to his sternum. Her eyes were a deep greenish brown like a mossy forest floor. They stared up at him with expectation and a surprising lack of intimidation given the way he was looming over her. “No, sorry, you’re Vilkas, aren’t you? Sheesh, that was rude of me! Have you seen Tilma I’m here to drop off the alchemy order.”

He was saved from having to answer—or even after to find his tongue at all—by the aforementioned woman. “Ah Luci! Sorry I was delayed in the kitchens!”

Just like that, the woman flitted away and Vilkas found himself able to move and think again. The opportunity was used to sneer at the ground before he hurried out into the training yards without giving into the urge to glance back.

#tes v skyrim #ao3 fanfic #writing #tesblr #writing prompt #vilkas #didja catch the Sarea easter egg?

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hwaflms · 2 years

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uno! ★ [k.ys]

{ ✉ } 1 new message from yeo <3 : tell that dumbass to move his hand before i move it for him.

[☆] pairing. jealous!yeosang x f!reader

[☆] genre. smut + angst + fluff | established relationship, pwp if we're being honest

[☆] wc. 6.8k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), hard dom!yeosang, bratty sub!reader (sort of), fingering, expilicit language, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it besties), use of words like 'slut', pussy slapping (like once), degradation, slight dumbification, spanking, choking (kind of), spit play, oral (mainly f receiving), rough/jealous sex, slight manhandling, dirty talk, yeosang is a lil mean, edging, orgasm control, creampie, slight overstim if you squint, i think that's it– sorry if i missed any!!

[☆] notes. naur cuz why did tumblr ruin the quality of my header :/ anyways, longest fic yet mfs !!! im pretty sure this is going to change in like a day, but i think i kinda actually like this one D: pls pls pls give me feedback in the comments/through asks/tags or reblog it, i would rlly appreciate it >:(

"shut up, i know you have like 7 cards up your ass right now!", shouts san at a poor mingi who sat cross-legged on the floor, having just innocently yelled out an enthusiastic "uno!" and was now being accused of foul play. you laugh along with them at mingi's expense, their rather brash sense of humour being something you're very used to.

"up yours, san", mingi flips him off in return, completely unaware of a sneaky jongho who had just taken a peak at his last card and was now spreading the information regarding the colour of it to those sitting around him.

your boyfriend, who was sat directly across you in the small circle the nine of you had created, gives you a look, one you knew all too well– he was getting tired of the game. in all fairness, you had been playing for a very long time now and you would have been done a while ago if not for san and wooyoung making up sixty different rules, all targeted towards the downfall of mingi who had to pick up what seemed like seventy cards but had now somehow managed to play all of them but one, much to their dismay.

when you and yeosang had first began dating, you had only met a couple of his friends, and even that was just the casual introduction and the odd, occasional wave as you saw each other when you came to visit yeosang in their dorm.

honestly speaking, you were initially glad that you didn't see much of his friends. you knew that the longer you were with yeosang, the more of them you'd have to meet, and this was a thought that made you nervous.

your apprehension didn't stem from a wrongdoing of theirs, no, it came from a insecure place in your mind that told you that your boyfriend's best friends would hate you. it was a rather irrational fear, because what reason would they really have to hate you? nevertheless, you were slowly introduced to all seven of them over the course of time, and your fears quickly dissipated when you saw his friends for what they really were– a bunch of crazy but loveable guys.

you managed to get along very well with all of them eventually, and now you were basically an "accepted member" of their group. that would explain why you were sat in their dorm for more than two hours playing a card game with the eight of them, instead of spending time alone with your boyfriend like you had originally intended to. the second you walked through the door, you were bombarded with greetings and hugs, and then forced into this highly competitive game of uno that was taking way longer to end than necessary.

the only real problem was wooyoung. at least, to yeosang that was the only problem. for some weird and very irritating reason, wooyoung was acting extra flirty with you today. it was not entirely strange because he tended to be a more touchy and affectionate person, that was his way of showing his love for someone, platonic or not. usually, that was fine, but yeosang wasn't liking exactly how much love wooyoung seemed to be showing for you on this day. in reality, wooyoung was probably just being friendly, maybe just in a slightly over-the-top way, but yeosang really didn't see it like that.

"okay, mingi's card is yellow, don't let him win", wooyoung cheekily whispers into your ear, making you turn to face him but then flinch back at the close proximity in which his face was to you. from the corner of your eye, you can see yeosang narrow his eyes at wooyoung but you smile nonetheless, nodding in agreement before adding your "change the colour" card to the pile and deciding on blue, to which mingi lets out a frustrated groan and leans over to pick up a card.

the raven-haired boy sitting next to you seemed very impressed by this, tilting his head back and basically roaring with laughter before slinging his arm around you in a friendly, celebratory manner and pulling you in for a short side hug. "i knew i could count on you." yeosang doesn't view the action in the completely platonic way that you do because he knows his face was a little too close to yours for it to be entirely friendly, yet he lets it slide when the boy lets go of you, but not before glowering at him, possibly trying to catch his eye but he never does.

"it's all fun and games until she gets to beat you", hongjoong calls out to wooyoung after playing his turn, inclining his head pointedly towards you. "and she probably will, seeing as she just eyeballed your cards when you hugged her." wooyoung turns to glare at you with an exaggerated look of betrayal on his face, placing his hand over his chest with a sputter.

"i thought...i thought we were a team", he utters indignantly, shielding his cards from your view by clutching them closer to his body so as to make a point. "we aren't a team, this is a competition", you announce with a mischievous smile, playing your reverse card and smirking at him, now knowing exactly what to do if you wanted him out.

"okay y/n, i see how it is", he mutters, holding his cards with one hand and bringing the other one to poke at your side multiple times, causing giggles to erupt from you at the feeling. you smacked at his hands, trying to get away from them but ever the persistent, he continues his torture on you. well, that was until yeosang decided to finally speak up.

"okay, that's enough, stop playing with my girlfriend and play your card instead", he remarks in an annoyed voice, which mind you, did not entirely deter wooyoung as his hands paused and returned to the game but not without mouthing "this isn't over" to you with a playful scowl. he seemed blissfully oblivious to the menacing glare he was receiving from yeosang, who's eyes turned a little softer when his gaze landed upon you. "sorry", you mouth to him with a wince, to which he shakes his head with a small smile.

the game continues on until seonghwa thrusts his fist in the air in triumph as he all but throws his last card on the pile and wins the game, to which yeosang lets out a very long and very excessive sigh, stretching his arms in the air as he goes to put his cards down since he believed the game finally came to an end, most of the others following suit.

"woah woah, where are you guys going?", san protests, raising his arms in a confused motion. "um, seonghwa won, the game is over?", you reply unsurely, stretching your own sore muscles. you see most people nod their heads in agreement, except san and wooyoung, and jongho, who grimaces with a shrug.

"the game isn't over yet, we have to play until there's only one person left", wooyoung argues with a pout. "c'mon, you can't leave now."

"what? we've been playing for so long, shut up", yeosang objects, standing up in protest. jongho shakes his head and makes an apologetic face as he motions for everyone to sit back down. "we always play until there's a last person. it's how the game works", he states, rolling his head and cracking his knuckles.

"are you fucking serious...", yeosang starts but trails off when he sees everyone else getting back into their previous positions, giving in and following them with a sigh. "okay, who's turn was it?", yunho asks wearily and the game begins once again.

you smile secretly, because you know yeosang just wants to go to his room and watch a show, maybe take a nap, not sit on the floor and play an unbearably long card game with his rowdy friends. he spent all day with them- hell, he lived with them for goodness sake, he really just wanted to cuddle in bed with you for an hour or two. shame, he'd have to wait a little longer.

two more rounds were completed, and you were starting to really feel bad for mingi, who had no hope of winning. every time he forgot to shout 'uno!' at a moderately loud volume, he was made to pick up 10 cards, and now he had so many that he wasn't even bothered to hide his cards from everyone's view, instead laying them out on the floor in front of him so he could sort them out.

"i vote we skip mingi's turn every time from now on", wooyoung quipped when he was taking a little too long to find the card he wanted to play, ignoring the aforementioned boy's shouts of disapproval, teasingly signaling towards san to play his turn.

"don't be mean, woo", you laughed, helping mingi pick a card to play out of his wide spread of options by pointing at one, making him smile brightly in gratitude.

"i'm not mean, just practical", he countered with a grin, sending a wink in mingi's direction, to which he received his second middle finger of the day in return, then turning to pat your knee while he talks. he unconsciously leaves his hand there, continuing the game without batting an eye. yeosang's watchful eyes manage to zero in on this miniscule action, softly scoffing at the audacity his friend had to be so touchy with his girlfriend in front of him.

first, he had to sit uncomfortably on the floor for hours playing a simple card game when he was supposed to be spending time with you. second, he now had to watch his friend, unknowingly or knowingly, he didn't know and frankly, didn't care, sit and flirt with you.

wooyoung, still clueless as ever, was soon baited into going off on a tangent about the authenticity of the rules of the game when hongjoong tried to help mingi by questioning some of them (some of the so-called "rules" were a little fishy sounding, because you couldn't remember ever needing to pick up cards until you got a green one if you played two sevens in a row). caught up his vivid citations of the rules of the card game, his hand remained on your knee, fingers unknowingly tapping your bare skin and playing with the thread hanging from the tear in your ripped jeans.

in the midst of laughing at the situation, you feel a sudden vibration against your thigh, then realizing it was your phone buzzing in your pocket so you fish it out, the screen lighting up in order to show you the new message.

yeo <3: tell that dumbass to move his hand before i move it for him.

you look up from your phone screen immediately to make eye contact with yeosang, who's eyes were trained angrily on wooyoung's finger that was innocently circling the skin of your knee, then flicking to yours. with a slightly sarcastic smile, you give him a look as if to say "really?", before sighing and moving to pick wooyoung's hand up and off of your leg.

you clasped his hand in yours, placing it onto his own thigh, but to no avail as wooyoung only absentmindedly intertwined your hands and continued to rant about the necessity of his severe punishments to mingi, blissfully unaware of the literal death glare he was receiving from yeosang.

"okay, that's it", he mutters angrily but it's loud enough for everyone to stop what they were doing and look at him, and he shoots up from his spot and makes his way to you. he scoops you up in his arms with ease and throws you over his shoulder while you let out a squeal, effectively ripping your hand from wooyoung's loose grasp. ignoring the gasps and protests from his friends, he simply grips you a little tighter and walks out of the room, navigating his way to a very specific bedroom.

"yeo", you exclaimed breathlessly, still a little surprised by the way he so effortlessly picked you up and carried you like you were a little rag doll, tapping at his back to get his attention. "w-where are you going? your bedroom's that way–"

you don't get to finish your sentence because yeosang delivers a sharp smack to your ass, eliciting a tiny cry from you. "i know where my bedroom is", he snaps, placing his hand back on your ass and splaying his fingers, rubbing at the stinging area soothingly. "no, we're going somewhere else", with a smirk plastered on his face, he enters wooyoung's bedroom, all but tossing you on the bed.

you let out a small "oof" when you land on the unfamiliar mattress, yeosang standing by the foot of the bed with his hands perched on the frame while he looks at you so primitively, almost like he wants to devour you. you wouldn't be surprised or bothered if he does– quite the contrary, in fact.

maybe a second or two pass of you and your boyfriend just surveying each other, your lips parted and chest heaving while he looks more calm and collected, but his eyes are a dead giveaway; while he may look composed, you know the very distinct look in his eye, it's one that contains not-so-hidden desire and want.

he crawls towards you, sitting up on his knees when he reaches you so that he towers over your leaning figure, tucking his finger under your chin and jerking your head up to look at him in the eye. you let a sultry smile grace your features, feeling your insides twist and turn in all sort of ways at the thought of yeosang fucking you in wooyoung's room to prove a point.

typically, yeosang was not an overly jealous boyfriend. he actually liked the fact that you got along with his friends, he liked seeing you chat and laugh with them, the sight so natural that it let yeosang feel like you would be a constant in his life.

maybe it was the insufferably long card game– card games were not exactly his cup of tea, and it was possible that the uncomfortable position he had to sit in and endure for so long led to him being a little cranky.

maybe it was because he barely got to spend any time with you today– your attention was occupied by his flatmates the second you entered his dorm, and then you were whisked away into playing a stupid game with them before you could so much as give him a kiss.

yeosang didn't know for sure, but maybe it was a combination of all these things that led to the emerging of the rarely active green monster. seeing you laugh at wooyoung's lame jokes and watching him place his hand on your knee, hug you and then fucking going so far as to hold you hand like it was nothing– it was too much.

"what's got you all riled up?", you mumble, stroking his chest with your finger innocently while you continue to smirk up at him.

"i don't know, maybe it was sitting across from you and watching my friend be all over you when i could do nothing about it", he pipes sarcastically, pushing you down by your shoulders so that you were now lying directly under him while he hovers over you.

"he was hardly all over me", you reply with a brief eye roll, the playful glint in your eye making the corner of his mouth want to curl upwards. "oh yeah? then what was happening?", he scoffs, bringing his hand to your waist to trail it lightly up and down your side, causing you to shiver slightly. with an almost indifferent sounding sigh, you throw both your legs up and around his waist, successfully managing to pull his crotch into yours, grinding against it in a slow manner.

"ugh, i'm bored of this, can we just cut the shit so you can fuck me already?", you remark, trailing your hands up and over his shoulders, linking them around his neck while yeosang keeps his expression neutral, allowing you to continue your ministrations for the time being.

"well, now you know how i felt. did you try and appease my boredom?", he questions, hands griping your hips and holding them down forcefully, inclining his head towards you.

you could just admit that you knew yeosang thought wooyoung was flirting with you and even with this knowledge, you allowed it, because that would be the truth. you were also aware that yeosang wasn't actually mad about it, at least, he wouldn't be after he finished rearranging your insides, because you knew you boyfriend didn't get jealous much and that he was bored as fuck out there and this was the perfect opportunity to opt out of it. the added hint of jealousy he had felt at the time acted as some form of drive to fuck you better, harder.

or, you could be a little mean and continue to tease your boyfriend, playing dumb and purposefully saying things that would piss him off. after all, he did fuck better when he had something to fuck you about, remembering that the last time he got jealous and fucked you over it, you couldn't walk properly for days. weighing the two options in your head, you just had to go with the second one because, where was the fun in the first?

you knew what you were about to say would push his jealousy over the finish line, but that was exactly what you wanted.

"you know, if you're not going to fuck me, i can just go and ask wooyoung to do it instead."

"what the fuck did you just say?"

the growl he let out was almost animalistic, securing his fingers around your throat, applying pressure as he crashed his lips on to yours. the kiss was a searing hot one, full of messy tongues and clashing teeth, his soft lips pressing firmly into yours. his tongue slips into your mouth and as your mouth wraps itself onto it, he grips on to your neck, using it to control and help your lips move along the length of his tongue.

you let out a soft mewl against his mouth and his hand busies itself trying to undo your pants, tugging them down along with your underwear, wasting no time in toying with your clit. "of course you're already wet", he scorns you with a chuckle. he pulls away from your mouth and trails kisses along your jawline, harshy attaching his lips to your skin in random places, nipping and sucking at the area. you cry out at a particularly rough bite, knowing for sure that it would leave a prominent mark, but you suppose that was the entire point.

he tugs at your shirt and you comply, raising your arms so he can remove it. gazing at your covered breasts, he leans in to litter kisses all over the tops of them, sinking his teeth into the plump surface and you groan a little and let your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging tightly at the feeling, seeing the red spot bloom when his lips are removed.

he doesn't even bother undoing your bra, he just pulls your boobs out of the cups and attaches his lips to your nipple, the force in which he sucked on it making you arch your back against his warm mouth.

"you think wooyoung can fuck this little pussy as well as me?", he all but spits the name against your boob, tongue coming out to flick rapidly against your hard nipple and delivering a rough slap to your pussy, causing you to gasp in both pain and pleasure.

"i don't know, why don't i go ask him?", you bite back, looking yeosang square in the eye with a grin until he suddenly stops playing with your cunt, lips pausing their abuse on your neck as you feel him smile against your skin.

you weren't usually so bratty, no, but you were having so much fun teasing and taunting your boyfriend that you might just start acting up more. he pulls away from your body completely despite your objections, looming over you with a dead serious expression etched on his features. "turn around. ass up", his voice was cold and demanding as he spoke his commands, urging you to do exactly what he told you to do.

he must have thought you were taking too long to place yourself in the position he wanted you to be in, because he does it for you, sighing boredly and pushing your face into the bed, gripping your hips and yanking them upwards so that you lay with your face down and ass up in the air, all for his viewing pleasure. "do you know how to count to thirty?", he asks condescendingly, rubbing his hand along the expanse of your exposed ass. you scoff and mutter a "yes" and his grips your ass, fingers digging into the flesh harshly. you hiss at the pain, trying to swat at his hands but he simply grabs both of them, holding them together behind your back with one hand, the other sliding up and down the skin of your back almost soothingly. "good to see you're not as stupid as you look. count each one."

his hand glides back down to your ass, pausing at one spot before pulling away then bringing it down sharply on to the skin, the sound of the first spank filling up the otherwise silent room. you yelp and struggle a little against his hold, but he only tightens his grasp on. "i thought i told you to count", he snaps, grabbing a fistful of your ass and squeezing the red skin, bringing a gasp out of you. "o-one", you try to say in an even voice, hoping your face remained neutral and unaffected.

he brings his hand down a second time, angling it so that his fingers slap against your ass to provide more of a sting than pain, to which you hiss but mutter a "two", knowing that this was only the beginning.

he keeps this up until you whimper out a "t-twelve", voice trembling significantly more than before, so he scoots a little further down the bed, face-to-face with your ass. he delivers a spank at the same time he licks a stripe up from your clit to your leaking hole, your face contorting and crying out from both pleasure and pain. "enough, p-please", you plead at fourteen, face and ass both a striking red hue, the latter decorated with hand marks. he tuts and places small kisses against your burning skin, delicately blowing cool air at your tender flesh. "enough? already? but we've just started", he laughs sadistically, teeth sinking into the flesh of your ass hard, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to bring tears to your eyes and to show clear marks.

you lose count along the way but yeosang doesn't really care, switching between slapping your ass to eating your pussy like a man starved, now finding amusement in driving his fingers in and out of your hole at a fast pace, enjoying the sounds of your mixed pain and pleasure. your pussy is a leaking mess, and your skin feels as if it was on fire thanks to your boyfriend's harsh punishment, one that he was loving.

"what number are we on?", he asks even though he is aware that you don't know, wanting to further push you over the edge.

"d-dont know, please– need to", you blubber incoherently, wooyoung's pillowcase soaked with your tears and spit, yeosang's hand still pushing your further into the bed with every slap.

"need to what?", he chuckles, fingering your hole while his thumb slides along your slit and toys with your abused, throbbing clit. "are you so fucked out already that you can't even talk properly?"

you whimper pathetically, making him scoff but pick up the pace of his fingers, the sounds of his fingers and your wetness so loud and dirty. you can feel your high approaching, your moans increasing in volume and pussy clenching around his fingers, alerting him of your upcoming orgasm. "gonna cum–", you gasp but you don't get to finish the sentence because you are soon wailing, the knot in your stomach tightening but you achieve no climax, yeosang pulling his fingers out of you before you can do so.

you let out a loud sob against the pillow, rolling on to your side just in time to see yeosang stick his wet fingers into his own mouth, moaning at the taste of you and sucking them dry. "aww, did the poor baby not get to cum?", he pouts in a faux sympathetic voice, the corners of his mouth pulling down into a frown. "that's because dirty little girls don't get to cum. no, my baby's been such a brat today, hasn't she?"

you shake your head weakly, hips bucking up into nothing as tears stream down your face in rivulets. "no? you haven't been a bad girl?", he questions, palming himself through his pants. you shake your head 'no' once again, eyeing the evident tent formed in his pants. "well, i disagree."

he spreads your legs apart, diving right back into your pussy, tongue swirling around your clit, pulling away just to spit right into your hole, adding to the wet mess. your clit is already highly sensitive, and when his teeth graze it lightly, you all but scream out, bucking into his mouth.

he withdraws from your sopping cunt for a bit to speak, mouth and chin glistening with your arousal. "yeah, fucking scream. let everyone know who's making you feel this good", you know who the supposed 'everyone' is, aware that it was really only directed at one singular person and at any other time you would have rolled your eyes, but given the current state you were in, all you could do was moan out into the room in response.

just like what happened a while ago, you sense your high nearing once again, this time you felt it even stronger than before, the lack of release previously making this one bound to be even more delicious. it seemed that yeosang knew your body like the back of his hand, instantly picking up on the signs indicating your approaching finish. "you wanna cum, sweetheart?", he enquires, giving out small kitten licks to your cunt, holding your somewhat spasming hips down. you nod frantically, bringing a hand down to tangle in his hair, an action he ignores for time being.

he returns to his administrations on your hypersensitive pussy, this time, enclosing his lips around your clit and sucking it into his mouth but then pulling away right before you could cum, leaving you high and dry again. the cry you let out is weak and tired, throwing an arm across you face as you sobbed into it, yeosang holding on to it and moving it away to reveal your face.

"god, look at you", he breathes in awe, taking in your appearance. "you look so fucking pretty when you cry." he marvels at your red, puffy face, taking it in between his hands and wiping away the tears with his thumbs gently, the action feeling very ironic because he was the one who got you in the state to begin with. you peer up at him, all weapy and pouty and he thinks you look so fucking perfect.

looking past you and at the pillow you head rested on, his lips quirk into a smirk. "look what you've done to his pillow", he mumbles more to himself than anything, a proud look in his eye, eyes travelling over the various wet spots on his pillow and then further on the bed. "gonna fuck you from behind so that you can drool on to it."

you're past words at this point, so deprived of an orgasm and so needy that you'll take literally anything he gives you. "think i should fuck your little cunt yet? hm? think you can take it?"

you lift your head up and nod it as vehemently as you could manage, arms stretching out towards him, without the intention of actually grabbing anything. "words, baby", he orders, taking ahold of one of your hands and placing kisses on your knuckles, the feat a stark contrast to what he really wanted to do to you. the whine you release is pitiful really. you're so needy and desperate and tired that you can barely manage to move your head, and now he wants to try and piece together intelligible words?

you pull through eventually, much to his surprise. " i c-can take it, yeo. 'm a big girl", you blabber with your teary eyes ogling at him innocently, and he smiled and he caresses the side of your face with his knuckles. he trails his fingers down to your your mouth and toys and prods at your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes widening slightly when you open your mouth to suck on his thumb without him even asking you to do so, mouth engulfing it as the actions only serves to make blood rush to his cock. "yeah, you're gonna take it."

he pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a 'pop!', chuckling at the string of saliva that connected to your mouth. he breaks the string by collecting some more of your spit in his fingers and rubbing it all over your face. as if the two of you hadn't defaced the premise of wooyoung's bed enough, you feel more of your juices leak out of your tormented cunt and on to his sheets because of this, much to yeosang's delight.

he withdraws from your naked body, and you only then realise that he is still fully clothed. something about this fact makes more warmth pool in your stomach, the power dynamic proven more obvious because he's fully clothed and you're the complete opposite, entirely at his mercy. pulling his shirt off and tugging his pants and underwear down in one go, yeosang is finally on the same level as you physically.

he stands by the edge of the bed, holding the base of his cock, stroking it near your face. he's already impossibly hard and the sight of you doesn't help his case in anyways. noticing yeosang's cock out of the corner of your eye in your nearly brainless condition, you open you mouth wide for him out of habit, making him coo half adoringly and half mockingly. "would you look at that? haven't even said a word and your opening your mouth for me like the cock-hungry slut you are."

he scoffs, slapping his cock against your lips then moving it away, eyes following the way your mouth chases after him. "a little while you go you had a lot to say. what happened now? have i fucked you dumb without even having fucked you yet?"

you don't even respond, wrapping your lips around the head of his dick and reaching out to grab and what you couldn't fit in your mouth, and yeosang laughs at you. it's a mean, condescending laugh and you shouldn't like the way it sounds as much as you do, yet it's music to your ears. "as much as i love fucking your mouth, i think we'll save that for another time. i think you're ready for my cock now. you think so?"

you've learnt by now that yeosang appreciates your verbal affirmations, and that he probably won't give you what you want unless you tell him you want it, so that's what you do. "wanna feel you in me, sang, please fuck me", you mumble drowsily, your eyes droopy but still so filled with desire.

that was more than enough for him, raising an eyebrow with a cocky smirk. "i'm going to wreck you." a promise he most definitely kept.

he picks you up easily, flipping you over once again, holding your somewhat shaky body in place now that you were on all fours with your ass facing him. he observes your figure, eyes lingering on your ass for a little while longer with the intentions of spanking it one more time just for the hell of it, but changes his mind, deciding you've had enough of that for one day. what he can't do, however, is stop himself from sliding his tongue into your pussy to lap up your juices again, causing you to jolt forward to which he places a kiss on your inner thigh, whispering a small "pretty baby".

lining his cock with your entrance, he spreads your wetness around with the head of his cock, slowly pushing the tip in. you hold back a groan, awaiting the feeling of being stuffed full of him, but it never comes since he teasingly removes it, slapping the top of his cock against your pussy. you're so far gone already that you just whine, tears filling your eyes to the brim and yeosang takes pity on you, or maybe he doesn't, because he rams his cock into you at full speed, thrusting into you roughly without waiting for you to adjust.

you hiss and cry out at the initial stretch, but the feeling of your cunt being taken by yeosang's dick is so intoxicating that you can't seem to find it in you to care. yeosang fucks into you with every ounce of energy he has left in him, digging his fingers into the skin of your hips and throwing his head back with a hearty moan. "fuck, you feel so good angel. this dirty little cunt takes me so well", he grits his teeth and drawls, voice thick with arousal, your pussy clenching around him as your body is already so accustomed to the feeling of him.

he pulls out of you once again, and you are more than ready to complain because you are sensitive, on edge and you really need to just cum, but there is no need for that as yeosang slams his cock right back in to you, repeating the action several times.

yeosang pistons into you, faster than he ever has before and the sounds of skin on skin and his hips meeting your ass ricochets off the wall of wooyoung's room. "look at what we're doing. fucking this pussy in my best friend's room", he chuckles in a sadistic manner, and you know he's enjoying the location way more than he should.

contradictory to his prior wishes, he does land his hand on your flesh once again, making sure to rub the sore spot right after. you wish you could see him right now. you can only imagine how beautiful he must look, covered in sweat which makes it look like he's glowing, head thrown back with the most mesmerising sounds slipping from his lips.

right on cue, he lets out a soft moan as his hips snap into you, grinding and rotating his hips a little to heighten the immense pleasure you were feeling. you vocalise your wishes to him, and he's more than happy to oblige. you lay yourself back down in the previous position you were in, on your back and him hovering over you. he hooks his fingers under your knees, scooting closer on the bed and wrapping your legs around his defined waist.

he slides his hands up and down your thighs gently as he positions himself again, sliding into you with ease due to all your wetness. he picks up where he left off, this time lifting up one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder, fucking into you in this new angle.

in doing so, you let out your loudest moan yet and he knows he's found you sweet spot, so he continues to thrust into you in the same spot, bringing a hand down to rub furiously at your clit. "oh, right here?", he teases, slowing his thrusts marginally, gyrating his hips with a grin. a couple curses and other incoherent words are all you can get out, feeling like you were on cloud nine with the way ueosang was treating you.

"fuck, louder, baby. let everyone know what's happening to you in this room."

it wouldn't take a genius to figure out what was happening behind the closed door, but you couldn't stop yourself from groaning out loud if you wanted to. you knew he was close, but you were closer.

his thrusts are getting more sloppy, and his grunts are increasingly frequent, letting you know of his stance. "are you close, angel? gonna cum all over my cock?", his words sound strained and he seems have to lost his meaness from before, but you were still so spaced out that all you could do was incline your head the slightest fraction, but he understands and lets out a small laugh. "good. i want you to scream my name as you cum."

the hand that was playing with your pussy speeds up along with his thrusts, circling your clit, pinching it and rubbing it between his fingers. with the combination of his cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot and with the heightened sensitivity and pleasure you were receiving from his fingers, you knew you were about to comply with his demand. it's his last words that do it for you.

"next time, i'm going to bring wooyoung in here and make him watch while i fuck into oblivion."

you feel your entire body go limp as you cry out his name and cum, yeosang thrusting into you shallowly to help your ride out your orgasm, letting you come down from your high. you notice that he hasn't cum yet and you are about to question it before you see the sinister looking grin etched on to his mouth, mumbling a "my turn", before he pulls out and then rams into you again, mercilessly thrusting.

you quite literally scream, every part of you so sensitive having just achieved orgasm, but you can't deny that the pain feels good. his hand reaches down to squeeze your boob, tweaking the nipple with his fingers. your face is streaming with tears again like before, yeosang cooing as his thrusts become more sporadic. "there, there, baby. fuck, you look so pretty, all for me."

when he finally cums, he stills his hips completely, letting his cum fill you to the brim, holding a continuous groan until he finished. he pulls out and you can feel some of his cum drip out of you, yeosang's eyes trained on the sight of your glistening cunt that was pumped full of his seed and he pushes some of it back in with two of his fingers.

you squirm in discomfort a little and yeosang hushes you, leaning down to pet your hair softly. "did so well for me, angel."

he smooths your hair down and off your face, wiping your tears away as your breathing becomes more steady. "my perfect baby", he praises, taking one of your hands in his and bringing the fingertips up to his mouth to press kisses against. your preen at the praise, corners of your mouth curving up into a dopey smile, mumbling small a "thank you", feeling your eyelids starting to droop.

he flops down in the space next you with a tired sigh, both of your chests heaving and eyes wanting to shut. he turns his head to the side to look at you, a soft expression taking over his face as his lips curve into a smile. your eyes are closed but you feel his knuckles caress your cheek tenderly and you lean into his touch, whining a little. "we should probably get you cleaned up and out of wooyoung's room", he mumbles with a weary chuckle, laying on his side and slipping an arm around you, pulling you into him.

just as he moves to press his lips against yours sweetly, the two of you hear hushed whispers coming from the other side of the door.

"do you think they're done yet?"

"why are they so loud?"

"shut up, they can probably hear you!"

"okay but, do you think my fucking bed is still intact?" "why'd they have to go fuck in my room."

judging by the tone of voice and the words, you can only presume that the last person to speak was wooyoung, and you almost feel bad about corrupting his poor bed, but you know yeosang doesn't because of the proud smirk plastered on his mouth, and you slightly smack his chest with a laugh.

someone from outside knocks on the door. "what?", yeosang calls out, sounding sleepy and spent. wooyoung sheepishly tells you of his plans, voice growing fainter, which tells you he is walking away.

"uh, you guys can like, keep my room for tonight. i don't think i want to sleep there knowing what just happened."

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donutloverxo · 3 years

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NO BUT LIKE CONCEPT: SMUT HC where mob!steve comes back from a rough night that leaves him very much outta it and ur the only one who can help him ... in more ways than one

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

I'm making this a drabble cause I can't work with HCs. Thank you❤ Warmings -explicit sexual content, dom Steve, daddy kink, spanking, blood and wounds, bullets. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

You put some distance between your poor ear and your phone upon hearing your friends loud screech, excited since she saw your Instagram post of your new engagement ring.

"It is so beautiful! And so unconventional and unique too!"

"Mm-hm," you hummed, applying a second coat of your fiery red nail paint, to make it more intense, you just knew it'd look amazing against Steve's pale skin, he absolutely loved it when you scratched him and were a bit rough with him.

You never gave him any pointers on what kind of engagement ring you'd like, only thing that was a bit too obvious - which you never actually needed to say - was that you loved shiny things. So he has gotten you a ring with a huge sapphire ruby and tiny sparkly diamonds adorning the band. It was everything you needed and more.

"Makes sense because our relationship is anything but conventional." Where he had never directly said that his job involved a few things that were kind of, sort of, illegal but you weren't an idiot, it didn't take you long to figure out.

You knew he was important and rich when he asked you out, not just because he wore fancy clothes, but the way he carried himself, tall and proud and an aura that dominated any room he was in, two bodyguards always around him, and when you both started getting serious he assigned Peter, who was sort of an intern or newbie from what you gathered, to always escort you places and take care of you.

Maybe it wasn't exactly the most rational thing to do - marrying someone who was as feared as he was respected - but all you knew was that he was a good man and you had faith in him, so you stayed away from that part of his life.

"You must be planning the wedding now," she beamed over the phone.

You scoffed, blowing on your fingers, "No, he's always at work these days. It's so annoying, if it doesn't change then I'm leaving and taking the ring with me."

You looked at it sparkling on your finger, it was too beautiful to part with. Besides it became yours as soon as he gave it to you.

"You're late, but there's nothing new about that," you puffed out your cheeks, hands crosses under your chest, as he loosened his tie and worked on taking off his shoes. He had been coming home past midnight for the last month, enough was enough!

"Doll," he groaned, looking at you and ready to tell you off and ask for some space, but then he saw you. In a satin babydoll that barely covered you, with lace trimmings that did nothing to hide your soft nipples, your toes and nails painted just the color he liked, and you were wearing those ridiculous fluffy slippers with bunny ears that he had grown to love.

His mouth opened and then shut like a damn goldfish, forgetting what he was about to tell you.

"Steven," you furrowed your brows.

He knew he was in trouble as soon as you called out his full name. "Yeah?"

"When are we going to discuss the wedding?"

"I'm sorry, doll, work has been hectic these days. But soon."

"Soon? Soon doesn't do it for me," jutting your hip and leaning against the door to your walk in closet, "I need an exact date."

"I can't give it to you right now, puppy," his jaw clenching as you rolled your eyes, "Watch yourself, sweetheart. I had a long day, you don't wanna get on my bad side today."

"You shouldn't have put a rock on it if you didn't intend on marrying me," rolling your eyes extra hard just to get on his nerves.

"I do want to marry you. But right now... you're sort of making me have second thoughts."

He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. Because you looked about ready to smack him.

"Fine then. I guess I'll leave and go live with my mother from now on. She would be happy for sure, she isn't too thrilled about our engage - " you stopped your rant as soon as you noticed crimson seeping through his crisp white undershirt as he took off his coat.

Your eyes as wide as saucers, your heart beating fast and hard in your chest and you could feel your eyes getting watery. You weren't handing out empty threats, you were definitely serious about leaving. Just to remind Steve of just how much he loves you.

It wouldn't be the first time. You had done it once before, when you went back to live at your apartment because he yelled at you for going out with your girlfriends without Peter. You didn't need a babysitter, especially not one who was several years younger than you. You had gathered up your things from Steve's penthouse and went home with a heavy heart. You loved him with all your heart, but there was no way you could make it work with someone who was that controlling and mean to you.

But he came to you, literally got on his knees to apologize and to beg for you to take him back. He even made you give up your apartment and got you a bigger house for you both to live in. Just so you couldn't take off ever again.

"Steve... your bleeding..." you said as you held back a sob. Any anger you had towards him was now gone.

"Oh, shit," he looked down to his side, "Must've ruptured the stitch or something..."

You walked over to him, holding onto his waist and looking up at him, trying not to look at his wound. You weren't that squimish around blood, it rarely ever bothered you, but this was your Stevie, and he was hurt. "What happened?"

"Its... It's nothing, doll. It was an accident."

"Yeah, I guess you slipped and fell on a bullet," you huffed.

"No, the bullet barely grazed me. And you know I don't like talking about those things with you."

"Why? I'm not stupid or weak, I have a right to know."

"Of course, not, puppy. You're my sweet, strong, smart girl," he cooed, bending a bit to peck your lips and then groaning. "Gotta, be careful with this," he said as your fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

"If I'm so strong and smart then tell me what happened," you asked as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders. You didn't stop to marvel at his huge and perfect body like you always do, you looked at the fresh batch on stitches right over his hips.

"No, puppy. You're too good for that world, too good for me," he groaned as he sat down on the little pink couch he had put in the closet for you. Since you spent hours trying to pick outfits, he didn't want you standing too long and hurting your feet.

"Fine then don't tell me," you whimpered, rubbing your tears off with the back of your hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm right here, not going anywhere," he tried to pull you into his lap, usually he wouldn't even have to ask for you sit on it, but right now you were pulling away and refusing for some reason, "C'mere, doll," he almost whined. Not used to being told no by you anymore than you were by him.

"No, I don't wanna hurt you," you hiccuped, as your sobs started to calm down.

"You wouldn't. You could never hurt me. C'mere I wanna cuddle you and make you feel better," he tried to pull you into him again but you just shook your head.

"I should be the one making you better. Not the other way around. But I don't know how to..." you swayed from side to side, suddenly ashamed of your brash behavior from earlier. "I'm sorry, I was being such a brat earlier."

"It's okay, puppy. I forgive you. You were right, we need to fix a date and find a venue and get you a pretty dress. I wanna see you in one of those poffy gowns, like a princess."

"That's called a ballgown," you said proudly, having done your research now. You knew all about the styles of the gowns, sleeves, necklines, colors and everything. "And you're not going to be involved in dress shopping process. Grooms aren't supposed to see the dress before the wedding it's bad luck."

He hummed at that, a bit disappointed but he would eventually see it, and then take it off, so it wasn't a huge loss. "Yes, you're right. But, let's not forget, you were a bad girl."

You gasped incredulously, "Well, you were being a bad fiance!" Which earned you a swift smack to your backside, making you yelp and fall forward, holding onto his shoulders for support.

"I didn't mind you calling me out for that. I want you to be honest with me and tell me everything. But you threatened to leave me, again."

You pouted. Offended for being called out so blatantly. Yeah you always made empty threats, packed up your bags just for show, whenever you didn't get your way. Never considering his feelings when yours were hurt.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

"I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. But I'll have to teach you your lesson. Just so you know better next time."

You nodded your head, which made him spank you once more, "Yes, daddy!"

"Good. How many do you think you deserve?"

"Um... Fifteen. Ten for threatening to leave, and five for giving you attitude."

"See, you're so smart. I'll punish you tomorrow though. I'm tired right now," he groaned as he sat back against the couch, squeezing your hips and admiring your figure, showing through the thin material of your nightie.

"Um, daddy?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Is there anyway I can make you feel better right now?"

"Yeah, you can give me a kiss. You didn't give me one this morning when I left, or when I came back."

"Okay, I'll kiss you. But I also wanted to do more..." you murmured, your face burned hot as you realised that Steve was going to make you say what you wanted to do.

"Like what?"

"Like, take your cock down my throat. Would that make you feel better? I'll try and be careful about your stitches." Truth be told you missed being intimate with him, you needed it as much as he did.

"It definitely would make me feel better. But I want to have you close to me," he stroked the inside of your thighs, hands dangerously close to your cunt, "Why don't you, come ride my cock. Just like I taught you, hm?"

"But - what if I hurt you..." you whined. But he wasn't having any of it, rolling your panties down your legs.

"You wouldn't, puppy, come on we'll be careful. Be quick."

You gave him a meek nod, unzipping him with shaky fingers, giving his glorious cock a couple of pumps before straddling his lap. You made sure to not put any pressure on his lap. Lining his cock up to your pussy with your hands wrapped around his neck, you slowly sanked down on him.

First giving him a nice and thorough kiss to make him for not kissing him goodbye or welcome home like you always do. "I feel so full," you say against his lips.

He hummed, squeezing your ass, "I was made for you, angel. As you were for me." He slid the straps of your nightie down your arms, exposing your breasts to him. He made sure to shower them with all his lips, sucking, kissing and biting and pulling with his mouth. You were making the sweetest of noises, trying to keep your moans in as he helped you bounce on his cock by holding onto your hips.

"You're doing so good. Being such a good girl for me. My sweet, best girl," he cooed, kissing your forehead, he knew how you were still vulnerable to be on top.

"Am I making you feel better, daddy?" you sniffled, his cock hiting you in all the right places, making it impossible for you to keep going and hold off your climax.

"I'm all better already, thanks to you, puppy."

#berry answers #steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #steve x reader

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

Text

masquerade. [ diluc x reader ]

prompt: you’ve never liked people who stick their noses where they don’t belong. but, then again, you’re a hypocrite, for you fell in love with diluc ragnvindr. well, that and the fact that you’re just trying to figure out how he’s alive when you buried him three years ago. (”you’re adorable” for my 2.5k follower event) pairing: anti-hero/villain(?)!diluc / knight of favonius!f!reader warnings: mentions of death, alcohol word count: 2.2k words

a/n: stepping a bit out of my comfort zone for this one, but god, this was fun to write. my diluc favoritism shines once more fjdskfd. this feels like it should be the start of a long fic, but tbh,,, hmm ?? idk !!! would y’all be interested in that?

it was only a matter of time until you saw diluc again. surely, you hadn’t expected it to take three years, but seeing your supposedly-dead lover at a masquerade party? such theatrics were only ingrained into his bloodline. the darknight hero loved to be in the spotlight, as long as nobody knew the person behind his actions. of course, it was only in diluc ragnvindr’s nature to make his reappearance into society at one of teyvat’s biggest yearly events: fontaine’s very own moonlit masquerade, a ball intended for the likes of government officials and greedy socialites.

under normal circumstances, diluc would have been extended a proper invite, much like you had been gifted one. you, captain of a battalion of mondstadt’s finest soldiers, were high both within the ranks of teyvat’s political and social sphere. what elevated you to your highest status, however, was your former affiliation with diluc himself. you were the former fiancée of the ragnvindr heir, only having had your title severed through his rather untimely death alongside his father.

as diluc’s almost widow, you had both inherited his estate and the responsibility of burying him. which is why, of course, you nearly dropped your flute of champagne that had once rested comfortably between your fingers as an oh-so-familiar voice leaned in behind you and murmured softly into your ear.

“would you care for a dance?”

you whirled around, the golden beverage sloshing onto the ground from the sudden movement, and came face-to-face (or rather, mask-to-mask) with eyes that you had longed to see every day for the last three years. if this is some sick joke, you thought, if this karma for how i failed to protect him, then let barbatos strike me down now.

yet, no flash of green anemo energy came. rather, you were greeted by the parting of his lips to reveal a familiar set of brilliantly white teeth as the corners of his lips upturned into a devilish grin. it was unbecoming to see such a serpentine expression painting your lover’s face and it only served to form a pit in your stomach. despite the mask, you knew beyond all certainty that this was diluc ragnvindr.

but, you also knew it wasn’t your diluc ragnvindr. that diluc had died the day you buried him, even if diluc himself was standing in front of you at this very moment. rather than respond, you press your lips into a firm line as a multitude of emotions pass over you. even if you wanted to respond, you weren’t sure if you could wrack your brain for anything coherent to say. you stare silently into the eyes of diluc ragnvindr, which were once vibrant like unpicked cherries glistening in the summer sun. now, they were no warmer than the chilled wine he had once derived his fortune from.

you look at the eyes of your lover. another man stares back. as the two of you dance with the silence between you, rather than each other, diluc’s smile inevitably drops before he clears his throat.

“might we talk elsewhere?” his voice is less sultry and less playful. like a professional wine taster, you knew how to read the hints of emotion within diluc’s tone. even after years apart, you still knew how to discern the flavors that carefully interwove themselves into each syllable that fell from his lips. in this moment, the bittersweet aftertaste of vulnerability shines through.

and with that, your steely resolve breaks as you spoke your following words.

“upstairs. down the hall and to the left, there should be an empty meeting room. no nation has claimed it as their space for the evening, so it should be devoid of any people. go there, i’ll meet you there in ten minutes,” you instruct and the dumb, arrogant smile appears on diluc’s face once more as he nods at you before quietly slipping away.

you briefly consider slapping it off before he can go, but just like before, you let him slip through your fingers once more.

precisely ten minutes later, you walk into the designated meeting room, having excused yourself from an enlightening conversation with one of sumeru’s top scholars. despite the short discussion, your talking partner had been rather intriguing, but you had bigger problems to deal with. letting out a sigh before entering the room, you take note of the way diluc, who leaned against one of the walls, stands straight up upon your entrance.

at least he had that respect.

you close the door behind you and, for good measure, you lock it. as the lock clicks shut, you hear the noise of diluc unclipping his mask. you flutter your eyes shut and inhale before turning to see what you had longed to see the most over the past three years: the face of your dead fiancé. a scar mars his cheek. it is faint, but the sight of it grounds your thoughts, for you know that he is not a ghost, nor is he the man he used to be.

he has changed.

your heart leaps at the sight of the man you once loved, the only man you thought you could ever love, the man whose last name you had taken on out of honor after his death, even if the wedding plans had been cut short. but your brain scowls at the sight, wanting nothing to do with him. it screams within you, demanding attention over the way your heart beats rapidly and urges you to rush forward into your lover’s arms and hold him close.

diluc takes a step forward, but he seemingly senses your trepidation as a brief flash of uncertainty crosses over his face. he makes no move to close the distance between the two of you. neither do you. diluc parts his lips to speak, but you hold up a hand for him to stop.

“no.” you say, voice resolute. “i talk first.”

diluc visibly swallows as you unclip your mask, only to be met with your irate expression.

“three years. it has been three years. where were you?” your voice is steely and you smooth over any shakiness in your words with your anger, filling in the cracks with bitterness.

“(y/n), i’m sorry, but i-” he begins, but you take a step forward, your scowl worsening.

“cut the bullshit and answer the question i asked you, diluc.” you snap and diluc’s eyes widen, as if he’s somehow just registering that a simple apology wouldn’t be enough to immediately woo you back to his side.

“i was hiding in the inazuman countryside and i only did so becau-” he begins, but you cut him off once more.

“thank you.” you say dismissively, waving off any additional words he has to say. the corner of his lips twitch with amusement, but you elect to ignore such a thing, for the sake of your own temper. “i only have one more question. why did you come back?”

hurt mars diluc’s expression as he registers the embittered tone of your words, but, much like you, quickly smooths his own expression over to one of indifference. yet, the affection he holds for you still shines bright in his eyes. you hate it. most of all, you hate the way your stomach does backflips at the sight.

“i came back for you.” diluc confesses, finally realizing that any longer of a statement and you would have cut him off. a sharp bark of a laugh exits your lips as you stare at him.

“it’s been three years. you could have come back at any time. and yet, you waited three years. pardon me if i don’t necessarily believe you.” you scoff, turning your body slightly away from him.

“it’s always been you. i had to do this to protect you. my father and i, we discovered things that we shouldn’t and he got killed because of it. i was next. if they didn’t get me, they would have come after you first.” diluc explains. you listen to his explanation wordlessly, before glaring at him.

“who is they and what makes you think i couldn’t handle them?” you snap and diluc’s expression contorts as if he expects his next words to cause you pain.

“ordo favonius,” diluc says, voice quiet. much to his surprise, you laugh. it was the laugh he had fallen in love with, yet it is different. a shell of what it used to be. he wonders if this is what his absence did to you -- or if it is the result of his return. he’s not sure which answer is worse.

“really? really? that’s the best bullshit lie you can come up with?” you say, folding your arms over your chest as you look at him incredulously. “the knights of favonius don’t want to kill you nor your father, nor me or anyone else you might know. they’re harmless.”

“no, they’re not. they’re wolves in sheep’s clothing, you have to believe me.” there’s an unfamiliar desperation in his tone that pulls at your heartstrings, but despite his earnestness, his words still play the wrong notes. you aren’t convinced. your eyebrows scrunch in thought before you turn to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“diluc,” you begin, words cautious. “are you the one who attempted to assassinate grand master varka?”

the acting grand master had returned to mondstadt from his expedition last month. not even a week later, an assassination attempt had been made on his life. much to everyone’s surprise, the organization, especially varka himself, refused to release details about the attacker. if diluc was the attacker, then the knights were seemingly scared of revealing that he was. but... why?

doubt finally plants its seeds in your stomach, but you know you can’t make any brash decisions tonight. not now, not when you know there are good people within the organization. jean, the dandelion knight, the one whom you had cried to after diluc’s death. albedo, the calm and collected alchemist and his younger sister klee, the knights’ resident spark knight. kaeya, diluc’s own estranged brother, whom had not contested your inheritance of the ragnvindr fortune and had gone so far as to decline any amount of money you offered him as his rightful share. they were all good people. they wouldn’t stand for such corruption. would they?

no. you think. they wouldn’t. they’re not safe either.

diluc is lying. he has to be. he wouldn’t have stood idly by for the last three years if such good people were all in danger. he wouldn’t have stood by for the last three years if you were in danger. would he?

your former lover notices the way your expression alters with each new thought that passes through your mind, so he closes the distance between the two of you and places a hand on your shoulder.

“come with me, darling,” diluc pleads. you refuse to meet his eyes, knowing you’ll break if you do so. “please. i can keep us safe.”

“i can defend myself,” you snap, but your words sound hollow, as if you’re trying to convince yourself. his hand doesn’t leave your shoulder, but you make no move to shrug it off. his refusal to answer your question gives you the answer you need. “why did you try to kill him?”

“he is not the root of the problem, but he is one of the main pieces of it. i cannot explain here, but if you come with me, i can. i promise, i swear to you that i can. just... please. we don’t have much time, they’ll notice your absence from the party soon.”

hadn’t he also promised to love you? love does not mean abandoning me for three years, you think bitterly, yet your heart urges you to listen to your lover. you take a step back and diluc’s hand falls to his side. you finally meet his eyes with your own cold gaze. the warmth of his pyro vision that courses through him does nothing to soften their iciness. diluc’s expression is no longer stoic. he looks tired and utterly devastated by your rejection.

“you are as beautiful as you were the day we met,” diluc begins and you tear your gaze from him, unable to keep your eyes fixated on him any longer. “archons, even when you are angry with me, you are adorable. i lov-”

“don’t.” you murmur, finally turning away from him. “don’t say that.”

you walk over to the door, hand hovering over the handle. you stand there for a few moments and the silence between diluc and you is nearly suffocating. tears brim at the corners of your eyes, yet you reapply your masquerade mask to hide them from any partygoers. you let out a soft sigh.

“five days. meet me in mondstadt in five days. as to whether or not i’ll go with you, i’ll give you my answer then,” you murmur, before slamming your hand down on the handle and exiting the room at a brisk pace, head held high. five days of mourning was all you had been given in the first place. it is only fitting that you give him the same time period.

#not beta read btw just giving y'all a heads up #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc #genshin impact

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pa-panda-heroes · 4 years

Note

heya! how about a scenario where shiggy accidentally hurts the reader with his quirk and like, freak tf out? angsts with lots and lots of fluff, please! ty! ♥︎

Okokok imma do my best for my first angst!! Also I added Dabi because I got a request for him a while back and I’ve wanted to write him for a bit, now <3 hope that’s okay!

I think this was a bit longer for a scenario but... I enjoyed writing it so :>

Warnings: language, mentions of violence(? Eh...)

Tomura/Dabi accidentally hurt reader with their quirks!

Tomura:

It happened accidentally. You knew that. Right? It wasn’t his fault, but his damn quirk’s fault, the one that he never asked for and the one that never allowed anyone to get close. Rather, he never let anyone get close because of it. He’ll admit he was always proud of its destructive capability as a villain, but now that it had hurt you, he wish he’d never boasted to a soul.

Twenty-three times. He had called you twenty-three times. And twenty-three times you didn’t answer. What was he to do, now? There was no stopping the decay borne from his fingertips once it had set in, and considering you wouldn’t answer your phone... it didn’t look good. Kurogiri had whisked you away before Tomura could even utter an apology, which looked to him as though Kurogiri did so in order for him not to witness your death. Kurogiri told him something about a doctor, but Tomura figured him a liar.

He couldn’t breathe. You shouldn’t have been hurt. Literally. Tomura hadn’t so much as touched you with a single finger; if anything, he was trying to protect you from the stranger grabbing you. It happened so fast, all he remembered was his quirk activating and the stranger vanishing before he heard your cry of pain and saw the skin of your arm drying out, much like he had done to that hero at U.S.J. He couldn’t tell, but it somewhat looked as though the decay was limited to just your bicep. That could’ve been hopeful thinking, of course, and he knew it.

So he sat there, all alone and hunched over on the couch in the bar, with misery and dread coursing his veins, accelerating his blood pressure to concerning levels. He had nothing to look at but his shaking palms and red shoes as he tried to even out his breathing - to no avail. Then, he felt the weight of someone sitting next to him, and instantly recognized how far the cushion next to him sunk in. And yet, he couldn’t look at you.

“Thanks for that back there,” you say quietly, afraid to startle him, but you recieve no response. “Y’know, I’m not sure what would’ve happened if my knight in shining armor hadn’t showed up!” You knew he felt guilty. Why wouldn’t he? But he shouldn’t. You wanted to convince him of that.

“Didn’t go far, huh,” you hear him mumble, nodding his head to your bandaged left arm next to him. There was no life to his voice and before you can say anything, he speaks again. “It won’t happen again. You’re not coming around anymore.”

“Hey, wait! That’s not your-“

“I’m the leader, and I say so! You can stay in the League, but you can’t... be close to me. You’ll get hurt.”

You stand up in defiance and put your hands on your hips in defense. “I’m not leaving you! First of all, I can take care of myself. Second, look at the League. We have a bloodthirsty serial killer and a cynical pyromaniac constantly lounging about, and you’re worried about some one-in-a-million freak accident happening again?” Patience was key with Tomura, and you knew that, but he could be stubborn and unreasonable, and when it came to you, stubbornly, unreasonably protective. “Besides, with the world as it is, I could get hurt doing something as mundane as taking out the trash, like I was when I was attacked!”

He finally looked at you, the look of a whipped pup on his face and while you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, you felt guilty for raising your voice at him. You sigh quietly and sit back down next to him, reaching for his hand and settling for his knee when he yanked it away. You snuck your arm around his shoulders and plopped your cheek on his shoulder, knowing all too well he would welcome it despite his standoffishness - and he did. Tomura didn’t pull away or push you off. But he hid his face. Your fingers on his left shoulder rubbed at it, his clavicle prominent enough you almost cringed at how thin he was. Your other hand on his leg idly toyed with the seam of his jeans, not having anything better to do.

“I’m sorry.” It was unclear as to whether he was apologizing for hurting you, or for demanding you keep your distance from him. Either way, it was undoubtedly genuine and soft.

You sat up straight and hugged your leader and lover from the side, gliding your fingers through his hair as you gently guided it to you. He hesitated slightly before burying his head into your chest and latching onto your ribcage for dear life, muttering the weakest “Don’t go, please,” anyone has ever heard. The desperation and vulnerability in his voice elicited your arms to wrap around him in a tight, warm embrace, your chin digging into his hair when you peck it, again and again and again. You stifled a giggle at how soft and ticklish his hair felt, electing to gently shush him.

“I just told you, didn’t I? I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to. I love you, silly.”

Dabi:

Dabi let out every curse known to mankind - and then some - as he rushed over to you, the bastard thugs the two of you had been after now burning alive and falling to the street. He would have sworn on his life you were not within range of his flames, and yet here you were, on the ground clutching your burnt leg and cringing away the searing tears of pain. Maybe you didn’t see him readying the attack and charged in? Maybe one of those thugs diverted his attack? He wasn’t sure.

“Y/n-“

What little color he had in his face drains completely, and his fingertips are already trembling.

“Dabi, I’m fine,” you tried to assure him. “It’s not that bad! I’ll just need a little first aid.” It hurt like hell, a white-hot, pulsating pain, you couldn’t lie. You just weren’t going to tell him that. It stretched from just below your knee to a hand’s length above your ankle and covered only the side of your leg, thankfully. The affected area was an awfully dark pink and honestly, it was hard to look at.

He practically scoffed at you. “Y/n, you’re fucking burnt. Don’t tell me that shit.” From the look on his face, it seemed bad.

That was the most cross he’d ever been with you, despite his brash and vulgar nature, and you couldn’t help but retreat a little as he knelt down to you and pulled his phone out of his pocket to make a call. “Y/n’s hurt, get us to the bar or something.” He grabbed your leg - surprisingly gently - and seemed to examine it. He paused as if to listen to the other end. “She’s burnt, does it matter? Just get us the hell out of here.” He must’ve called Kurogiri, as the next thing you know there’s a warp tunnel summoned next to you.

You tried standing on your own to leave, but the burn decided it didn’t want you to do so, and so you dropped back to the ground and bit your lip at the shockwaves of pain crawling up your leg. Dabi said nothing and helped you up himself, grabbing your arm and side to help you walk through the warp. Once through, he set you down on the couch, still eerily quiet, and left you there. The pain was so bad at this point, you began to think you’d faint, your head feeling fuzzy as tears run down your cheeks.

The stapeled villain returns with a bucket of ice water, towels, and what looks to be a first aid kit. But he stops for a second when he sees you hunched over with a death grip on your knee and the seat beneath you, and it takes all he has to hold it the fuck together. He’s unreasonably angry, and he’s not sure why. He wants to tell and scream, maybe at you, maybe not, he’s not sure. His quirk’s only quality was destructiveness. It was damaging not only to his enemies but also to his own body - and now, you.

He hurt you. Accident or not, he hurt you. The lump in his throat was suffocating.

Dabi knelt down and soaked a towel in the cold water before wringing it wordlessly, then gently tapping it to your leg and pulling back when you hiss. He seemed to notice it but didn’t outwardly acknowledge it and contintued to use the cold towel on your burn. As more time passed, the more convinced he became that it was a second-degree burn, meaning the second layer of your skin, the dermis, was badly burnt. He had no doubt it would scar, and at the thought the breath was pulled from his lungs. Dabi muttered a curse and suddenly rested his forehead against your knee, his right hand holding the cool towel to your leg.

“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, fuck.” His voice was low, and if you looked hard enough, you could hear that it was forced out through a tense throat. He was nearly in tears, wasn’t he? He wasn’t an overly emotional person by any means, but the fact that his quirk hurt you, with its history, it hurt worse than if you would’ve left him for a hero. He hated himself. His quirk didn’t have a single redeeming quality, and he began to think the same of himself.

“Dabi, don’t, okay? I’ll be fine, really.” You can’t help how weak your voice sounds, being in so much pain, but you nonetheless plant a hand in his hair and rub his scalp.

Dabi lifts his head to look at you, and the look in his eyes isn’t something you’ve seen before. His free hand comes up to rest on your thigh, and you can feel it shaking. “It might scar, y/n. Don’t you get that?”

You huff. “So? If it does, I’d be pretty cool with that, all puns intended,” you try to giggle at your own pun and can practically feel him rolling his eyes, “Besides, I’d kinda match you, wouldn’t I? It’ll be like a couple’s tattoo sort of thing!”

He rests his chin atop your knee and a look that only be described as a pout crosses his features, but he says nothing and you can only smile. Dabi deadpans when you say nothing, forcing yourself to beam at him with bright eyes and a smile. “You’re a weird one, ya know that?” he muttered.

“You’re even weird for falling in love with me,” you teased after he began to work on your leg again.

“Pfft.”

#mha #mha scenarios #mha x reader #shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki tomura #dabi #scenarios #angst #comfort / fluff #at the end!#hope you enjoy <3 #i did my best!#edited because tumblr desktop is a silly bean and wont do color text for me

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kuroyukihime · 3 years

Text

Bakugo x Reader: Choose Me [Pt. 1]

[LOTS OF ERROR; TO BE REVISED]

“HEADLINE: PRO HERO – DYNAMIGHT ANNOUNCES HIS MARRIAGE”

It was fucking news to everyone, heck even the No.1 Pro Hero busted through his office doors demanding an explanation. It was so out of the blue as the picture of him together with another girl at a restaurant, with him reaching out touching the woman’s cheek spread like wildfire all over the internet. No one knew he had been dating, no one even knew he was interested in others. Literally everyone thought… Bakugo Katsuki was after you. You who had been there for him since high school, never in his personal space but always was with him, never failing him and was always doing your best to be there for him whether he needed you or not. You always did your best not to let your feelings get known specifically to him, so when others noticed him warming up to you and then inviting you to his agency (which he was just planning on having and building) right after fucking graduation and then the event where the villain almost had you and he literally went full murder mode just to retrieve you, everyone thought for sure you guys were going to end up together. So—

“Kacchan!” Slamming his palm on Midoriya’s face, Bakugo gritted his teeth “You’re way too close, you damn nerd!”

“Bakugo-kun! What is this? Is this true?” Uraraka asked, showing him the article on her phone

“Ha? What part of it do you not understand, Round cheeks? It’s exactly what’s written there!” He growled

“But… Not even we know you were going out, you’re always at work!” Kirishima reasoned

“AH! SO ANNOYING! GET OUT OF MY CASE YOU IDIOTS! IT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT MEANS! NOW FUCK OFF!” He snapped, gritting his teeth in frustration

“Katsuki!” A voice called out to him from behind, everyone’s attention turned to you as you simply smiled, holding your phone close to your chest. The way you were gripping it tight didn’t go unnoticed by many, especially Bakugo

“Congratulations!” You grinned and Bakugo just stared at you for a second before scoffing and looking to the side

“Yeah… Whatever…”

The silence that followed was thick but no one knew what to say. Still true to your role however, you were still his sidekick, and his second in command of the agency. You still had work to do.

“Ah that’s right minna! It’s still noon, you shouldn’t be flooding here unless you have businesses to attend to! Back to your agencies you go!” You ushered them out

Please. No more gazes of pity. Please get out. Or else… I won’t make it through…

“(Name)-san…” Midoriya looked at you with concern in his eyes as you slowly closed the door of Bakugo’s office. Standing there in front of everyone, you took a deep breath and hardened your smile. You needed to make it. Just until the end of the day… please

“We can talk later… For now, you guys have work” You bid them all goodbye “I’ll see you later”

Without even giving them a chance to reply, you retreated back to Bakugo’s office, unintentionally slamming the door harder than expected

“Oi”

You visibly flinched when he called out to you. You really weren’t in the mood to talk to him, more or less stand to be in the same room as him. You could feel yourself starting to break little by little

“Whoops sorry, didn’t mean to slam that harder than intended. Oh by the way, you haven’t done your patrol yet, right?” You laughed, going over to your desk and rearranging the papers “I can take over the shift for you, I need some fresh air anyways” You said and by the time you finished talking you were already out the door

Bakugo glanced at the huge open windows lined up in his office room, literally placed right behind where his office desk stood parallel to

“Fresh air my ass” He grumbled

EARLIER THAT DAY…

“HA?! AIN’T NO WAY I’M DOING THAT SHIT! GO DIE!”

“B-but Dynamight! The aristocrat’s daughter is in danger! The only way we can catch the villain that has been stalking her is if we announce a public wedding!” The higher ups tried to reason with him

“THEN FIND ANOTHER RICH ASSHOLE FOR THIS SHIT OR BETTER YET SET CCTVs OR HERO AND BODYGUARDS ON STAND-BY TO GUARD THE BITCH! FUCKING THINK!”

“A-ah, we’ve already set those up, but we need a pro hero on her side since the initiation will surely happen at the wedding and the daughter specifically requested you to guard her!”

He honestly feels disgusted by that information

Keh! Bitch is a fan, fucking great

Then again, this was a huge group of villains they’re talking about. Sighing in annoyance, he eventually agreed. Now, how was he going to explain this—

“Ah by the way, Dynamight, you can’t speak a word about this to anyone. The villains have a member that can camouflage and has another that has intense hearing from miles away. Strictly not a word until the mission is done”

BACK TO PRESENT…

A ring coming from his phone brought him back to reality. He fished his phone out from his pocket and looked at who had texted him.

“Father said we should meet up at X Restaurant, see you there <3”

Staring at the door where he last saw your retreating figure, Bakugo took a deep breath and shouted in frustration

“FUCKING SHIT!”

At your part, jumping from roof to roof, you tried your best to do the patrol as diligent as possible. You needed to clear your mind as well. This ugly, painful feeling stirring up a storm inside of you made you clench your fist in frustration. It’s your fault for expecting so much, your fault for reading the signs wrong and it was your fault for loving a person who promised you nothing. Letting the tears finally drop, you silently cried at the rooftop alone. You had no idea how long you were crying however, even this time of wallowing wasn’t given to you by fate because after a few minutes, you heard distant crying and screams and as the sun was setting, you squinted your eyes, noticing something from the distance before the villain charged straight at you.

You seethed through the pain of your body hitting the floor of the rooftop with such force as the villain loomed down on you. Ah fuck, those were going to leave bruises. Summoning your weapon, you roughly grabbed the Villain’s foot and shoved him out of the way.

“I’m kinda in a bad mood… Sorry” You muttered, charging straight after the villain

As usual, the news were already on your tail. The villain provided quite a bit of a fight, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Plus, with the negative emotion fuelling you, it wasn’t long before the villain finally gave himself up in exchange for his life. When the news reporter asked for an interview, you simply turned and ignored them. You can’t have cameras up in your face this time, everyone will notice the puffy eyes. However, your cold actions startled everyone. You were known as the kind one between your duo, while the Pro Hero Dynamight was as brash as he can be, you were always the one the media counted to speak in his behalf. Always smilling, always having such a warm aura. The usual welcoming hero-type.

Returning back to the agency, you honestly didn’t even think about getting your wounds treated first. Honestly speaking, you didn’t even notice you had small wounds. Though they were only scratches, it still needed to be disinfected. It was only when Kirishima stated it with slight panic in his voice that you noticed.

“Ah! (Name)! Why didn’t you go to the hospital to get that treated?”

You smiled, as hard as it was, you tried your best “There’s really nothing to worry about, I can just treat this with First Aid”

You retreated to the locker rooms and got the first aid, silently mending your wounds alone until a loud knock came from outside

“Oi”

Taking a deep breath, you stood up, the bandage still wrapped loosely on your forearms and answered the door. Putting on another fake smile, you grinned

“Yo!”

“Don’t fucking Yo me, get out here, look how shitty those bandages are wrapped around you. You wanna get infected?” Bakugo nagged

“Ah! No it’s fine—“

His glares made you shut up and simply comply with his request. He dragged you towards inside the office and made you sit on his chair

“Wh—“

“Tch stop fucking complaining and seat, dammit”

The way he handled your wounds with utmost care, like you were such a fragile being, made you want to cry again. Soon, another woman will experience this. You weren’t special to him. Maybe you were, but not in the sense you wanted. Much like Kirishima and the others, you were simply a dear friend to him.

Just a friend

His phone suddenly started ringing, you wouldn’t notice it but Bakugo felt his blood turn cold. He knew exactly who was calling. He immediately snatched his phone before you could take a peek who the Caller ID was.

Sighing loudly, Bakugo answered the call

“What? I told you never to call me unless it’s an emergency, right?” He snarled

“You’re mean Katsuki-n, I’m already at the restaurant! Where are you?”

You dreaded to hear that overly sweet voice, it made you want to throw up, further more apparently Bakugo had a date, what the heck was he doing taking his time with you then? Slowly standing up from the office chair, Bakugo’s other hand slammed on the sidearm of it, trapping you. His glare was on-point again. You wondered what was he so pissed off about? Pouting slightly, you sunk back to the chair

“I’m still doing shit, who told you be there so damn early?! Also I told you not to call me by my first name! WE'RE NOT FUCKING CLOSE”

Your eyes widened a bit, a little bit of pride welling up inside you as you remembered how in their meet ups, Bakugo would always be there earlier than you and how he had no problem whatsoever when one day the way you called him suddenly changed from Bakugo to Katsuki

“Eh? More important than me?”

Unconsciously, Bakugo licked the upper part of his lips as his gaze went to you, staring at the reports on his desk completely unaware of his eyes. He smirked

“Damn right bitch, a lot more important than you”

Your eyes widened, eyes immediately meeting his. You were about to retort but his hands were quick on your mouth

“Anyways, I’ll fucking be there in an hour, don’t be fucking annoying”

With that, Bakugo hung up, not even waiting for the girl to reply. He removed his hand from your mouth.

“Don’t fucking talk, I’m gonna be found out”

You looked to the side, unable to meet his gaze, the blush spreading like wildfire on your face.

“You have no delicacy, Katsuki” You commented and Bakugo couldn’t help but chuckle

“What the heck did you expect from me?” He paused for a bit “Work comes first”

And just like that, your new budding hope was crushed. Of course… Even you were considered a load to him.

“There, done, next time I’m coming with you on patrols” He said, standing up and walking away from you, carrying the first aid with him “Go home”

You felt despair. This bitter feeling was becoming too much now. You stood up and hurried out, going straight for the locker room and changing out of your hero clothes. You wanted to go home as soon as you can. Everything was piling up and it was becoming too much for her to handle.

Next time I’m coming with you on patrols

You gritted your teeth. First the marriage, then he suddenly doubts your strength to do things alone. Slowly… everything you’d ever done to build a good relationship with Bakugo was slowly crumbling. Grabbing your bag, you ran out of the building, ignoring Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari’s shout of concern.

On the other locker room, Bakugo was cherishing the feel of your lips on his hand, bringing it close to his mouth, he tried to feel as much as he can from the past sensation. He heard the others calling out your name so he went outside to see what the commotion was, only to find the entrance door sliding to close

“What’re you idiots yelling at?”

“Ah, (Name) suddenly ran outside, she seemed like in a real hurry, I mean she didn’t even bid goodbye to us like she always does” Sero explained and Bakugo just stood there before staring at his hand and clenching it.

You didn’t even bother waiting for him like you always do

Hell finish this mission as fast as he can before he loses you.

At the train, on the walk home, you kept your head hung low until you’ve reached your apartment. Closing the door, your body slid down on the door as you finally, finally let everything out. So much had happened in one day that it was too much for you.

Bakugo Katsuki was going to get married… not to you

Another woman will be on the receiving end of his affections… not yo

He’s beginning to doubt your skills… that’s on you

You cried and cried, not caring about anything else in the world. You kept at it until your body gave up and eventually you fell asleep on the entrance. You had a short unpleasant dream however, it was a dream where Bakugo kept walking forward and no matter how much you ran, how much you yell out his name, he didn’t stop, he didn’t even look at you, it was like you weren’t even there, but when another woman was right behind you, unable to walk by herself, Bakugo turned around and past by you, carrying the girl in his arms, laughing and smiling without a care in the world as he left you behind once more.

You woke up from then on, feeling your entire body cold as a result of sleeping at the entrance. You didn’t bother standing up yet though. Your mind was too busy rethinking the dream. You clenched your hands near your chest and gritted your teeth as another wave of tears threatened to spill.

You’ve decided.

For the first time, you were going to kill these feelings and stand by his side as one of his best friends. You’ll take what you can. You’ll kill it over and over again, no matter how many times if it means you’ll be with him longer. It pains to admit it, but you feel like you can’t continue working under him if you let your one-sided feelings continue and you can’t have that. You can’t bear it, thinking of living a life without Bakugo in it, atleast as a friend and a sidekick, you will still be there at his side. You just need to be there by his side… Be satisfied with that…

“…Atleast… let me be selfish one last time… before I kill off this feelings” You muttered, feeling sleep overcome you

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #mha #bnha #dynamight #mutual pining #bakusquad and dekusquad are greatwingmans #misunderstandings #bakugo will not give you up #explosive boi

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Inukag Royalty Au

A month had gone by since that moment in the library and it appeared that Kagome’s worries regarding the Inu royal family were unfounded. No one treated her differently so far, if everyone even knew the full circumstances, but even Inuyasha’s father didn’t hold her responsible for his son’s decision. Frankly, the man hadn’t been all that surprised Inuyasha had fallen in love with Kagome stating that it would take someone like her to reign him in. The Inutaisho counseled them about the obvious discretion that needed to be maintained, but at least with one less worry out of the way she could breathe again. Kagome returned to her duties tutoring Rin with a reinvigorated attitude and left the rest in fates hands.

The morning started out normal, with nothing special planned and just the daily routines to follow. Kagome and Rin were in the library during the morning tutoring session when a palace guard unexpectedly came looking for her. “Ms. Tanaka, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there is a woman at the gate calling herself Sango who purports to know you.”

‘Sango?!’ “Oh! Yes!” ‘What is she doing here?!’ Kagome internally panicked but kept her cool. “She’s an old family friend of mine.”

“Very well,” the guard bowed. “I shall have her escorted to your room.”

“Thank you,” Kagome nodded. “I’ll be there shortly.”

Once Rin was settled into her studies with instructions, Kagome rushed to her bedroom to find out why Sango had come looking for her. Part of her was frustrated for having revealed her location, but she knew the woman enough to know she wouldn’t have come unless it was important. Immediately upon entering the room, Kagome’s instincts were right. Sango looked rushed and worried as she paced back and forth. She hugged her friend. “Is something wrong?”

The woman nodded as they separated. “I’m sorry Princess, but it was a matter of urgency I come. I was informed that the betrothed King has changed the marriage arrangement and demanded that the wedding be held immediately, or he will invade our kingdom.” Sango dropped her head, “so when I realized the gravity of the situation, I knew I had to tell them the truth to protect the kingdom. Your parents tried to hold things off…”

“What?! But when I overheard them talking about this prince, they said he was a good guy. Now he’s threatening an invasion?!” Kagome slumped on her bed and stared at the floor. “I never would have thought— I mean I guess I hoped he would just drop this if I wasn’t available anymore… wait a King?” Catching her confusion, she looked up. “I swear they said a prince?”

“I’m very sorry Princess, I don’t know all the details, but I fear for the King and Queen. From what I’ve learned this King can be ruthless.”

“Did they tell you a name?”

Sango nodded. “King Naraku.”

“Wait, I know that name! He was here not long ago visiting the Inutaisho. Inuyasha didn’t trust him either.” Kagome shuddered, “he was so creepy.”

“Well, whoever this guy really is, he sounds serious.” Sango pulled a crown from her satchel and handed it to Kagome. “We must leave immediately Princess.”

Kagome took the crown from her attendant with a sigh. “I… I-I’ll need to tell Inuyasha. I can’t just disappear, and to leave Rin that would— I can’t…” Kagome’s shaking head dropped into her hands. “Oh, I don’t know what to do.”

“If you must tell him, then tell him, but Princess, we really must leave as soon as possible.”

“I know… I know…” Kagome stood up slowly as she affixed the crown to her head. She’d never wanted to wear the piece again, but she had no choice. “Follow me. I believe he’s in the training hall.”

They could hear the echoes of clanging steel and sounds of gruff words being thrown around the closer they got to the training hall. It was a special building on the opposite side of the castle near the stables where the prince would often train with his guard Miroku to pass the time. Kagome tried to ponder on the right words, but is there a right way to say anything like this? It was all a lie… I’m sorry you fell in love with me and broke an arrangement because of me… I love you too, but I must marry this other guy… Tears were already trickling down her face as she opened the door. The men stopped mid-swing when they heard the door open, turning to see who’d come in. Kagome’s breathing hitched at the site of the glistening hanyo, sweat beading down his bared chest. Oh, heaven’s if it were under any other circumstances then this one, but the sight only broke her emotions wide open.

“Kagome?” Inuyasha lowered his sword, but instantly sheathed it and rushed over when he saw the tears. Miroku followed the prince as well but kept his weapon out. “What’s going on?! And who is this?! And what—” he touched her crown before clasping her cheeks between his hands. “Kagome, what the hell is going on?!”

“Inuyasha…” Kagome’s tears broke down into a full-blown hysterical sob. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know how to tell you this…” her body went limp under the weight of the pain. She didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t want to leave Rin. She didn’t want to leave the palace and the Inu’s who’d she come to adore… It all hurt so damn much that she was even in this situation!

Inuyasha caught Kagome and they both slid to the floor onto their knees. He cradled her to his chest as her tears fell and she gripped to his vest. “Tell me what? Please! What is going on?!”

“I’ve been lying… about who I really am,” Kagome’s shaky voice choked out the words. “My true identity is Princess Kagome Higurashi of the Higurashi kingdom…”

“You— wait, so all this time…” Inuyasha glanced at the other woman. “And who is this?”

“Sango is my friend and Lady in Waiting.”

“But why now?” He gripped Kagome’s shoulders and forced her to face him, “I want the truth Kagome!”

Kagome faced him but kept her eyes averted to the ground. “I ran away because of an arranged marriage, but now that suitor is threatening my kingdom if the wedding doesn’t take place. Sango came to warn me—” Turning her pleading eyes to him. “Inuyasha, I don’t want to leave! But she said this King is a ruthless man threatening to invade and I can’t just let him hurt my people! I can’t…” her voice quieted, broken and defeated. “I know I shouldn’t have run, and I swear I never intended for any of this… but I have to go.”

Inuyasha’s grip tightened in restraint and his voice lowered almost into a growl. “Do you really think I’d just let you walk out of here!”

“But Inuyasha—”

“WHO IS THIS KING?!” He shook her hard in his anger. “Tell me!”

Her eyes flashed wide with fear. “Naraku! King Naraku!” Kagome spit out.

Inuyasha suddenly let Kagome go and looked up at Miroku. “So that’s why that bastard was staring at Kagome! He recognized her!” He jumped to his feet. “Fucking bastard! I won’t let him get away with this! I’ll track him down and kill him!”

Miroku stepped forward and grabbed Inuyasha’s arm. “We can’t do anything brash, your highness. You need to speak to your father and apprise him of the situation.”

“Then go find him and we’ll meet in his war room,” Inuyasha instructed Miroku. He then turned to the women, helping Kagome to her feet. “You two follow me.”

On the way to the war room, Inuyasha pressed the women for more information. He wanted to be upset with Kagome for hiding her identity from him, but under the circumstances had no time to let it affect him and besides, was he any better? He’d refused to accept a marriage arrangement too, so who was he to judge her for wanting out— especially to a guy like Naraku. According to Kagome she didn’t even know until that day King Naraku had been the intended betrothed. Regardless of his own emotions, Inuyasha was a man on a mission with a Princess to save.

The Inutaisho sat down on a chair and listened silently as Kagome first came clean about her true identity. She told him everything from start to finish, from the running away and why, up until meeting him in the palace, baring her soul to the man. Then she, Inuyasha, and Sango provided all the information they knew of the situation with Naraku, including Inuyasha’s suspicious from the last visit. Inuyasha implored his father to do something because King Naraku shouldn’t be allowed to do what he did. All through the conversation, Kagome couldn’t tell what the king was thinking as they told their story, because he showed little to no emotion, simply sitting there listening intently. Once they finished, the man sat back and pinched his brow.

“This is such a mess…” Inutaisho sighed.

“Is that all you have to say?!” Inuyasha snapped. “Did I not make it clear? He needs to be stopped!”

“Oh, I heard you loud and clear,” Inutaisho stood up. “And this is a giant mess!”

Kagome dropped to her knees in a low bow. “Your majesty, please forgive me for causing all these problems. I never intended to cause anything trouble.”

“No, my dear,” he kneeled and placed his hand on her shoulder, coaxing her to rise. “I fear your parents and I are partially to blame.”

“Huh?” The four young people uttered at the same time in confusion.

“What do you mean?” Kagome and Inuyasha asked simultaneously.

Inutaisho dropped back onto his chair. “The reason neither of you were told who you were marrying is because we’d feared if you found out, you would object. We figured we’d wait until just before the wedding to reveal the information… and I realize now that was a big mistake.”

He turned first to Kagome. “You ran away. But your parents never informed me of that information. I can only assume they hoped it would all work out, but now I know why they easily accepted the new agreement I offered after Inuyasha objected.”

“And you son,” he turned to Inuyasha. “At first you accepted the arrangement, but after meeting Kagome decided to rebel.”

“I’d only met with your parents,” Inutaisho addressed Kagome, “so I didn’t know you were their daughter when you came here. I suspected because of your scent and your behavior but assumed you may have been a distant relative.”

Kagome turned to Inuyasha. “Wait so that means…”

“You and I… we’re supposed to be married,” he finished her sentence.

“Wow, what a small world,” Sango chuckled. But when she received a swift glare from Kagome, she apologized. “You have to admit it’s amusing, Princess.”

“Fate is working overtime,” Miroku added. “You two should be thrilled. But, your majesty,” he directed his question to the king. “Then how did Naraku end up in a pact with the Higurashi’s?”

“I can only assume as Inuyasha surmised, that he recognized Kagome during the visit.”

“But he still wouldn’t have known she was available,” Sango chimed in with a genuine confused question. “I don’t understand how he would have known.”

“Spies…” Inuyasha growled under his breath. “I wouldn’t put it past him to pay off a palace servant to report on information.”

“That may all be very true, but for now we’ll need to figure out how to undo this debacle…” Inutaisho lowered his voice. “And quietly, just in case there are spies under this roof.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Inuyasha questioned his father.

Inutaisho smiled. “I think I have an idea, as long as the Higurashi’s agree to it.”

#inukag #inuyasha #Kagome higurashi #inukag fan fic #inukag fan fiction #inukag au #royalty au #arranged marriage with a twist #ch 6 #the irony of fate #petri808

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fanficflaneuse · 4 years

Text

Hardly A Date

Index

A/N: Hello lovelies! I’m sorry this took me so long. This has been a very awkward week. I was sad and I tried to dump my feelings into writing, but sometimes it’s not that easy...ugh I’m sorry. I hope you like this one. It was requested a while ago. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes. Also, I gave reader the physical characteristics of Lily Potters for (insert some good reasons). So, I am sorry if it’s not as immersive as it could have been.

Dearest anon requester, I’m sorry this took me so long. Let me know if you read it and like it (I really wish you do).

Draco x Potter! Reader (she/her) Word count: 2735 Summary: Draco has a crush on Harry’s twin sister, who resembles Lily Potter.

Enjoy!

Harry sulked all the way to potions class. It was the first day of fifth year and his twin sister, (Y/N), was getting too much attention for his liking. He had always thought his sister was beautiful, but now every boy in school seemed to have realized it as well. Over the summer, she had grown taller and curvier. Her red hair had darkened a bit more. She wore it long, which framed her face delightfully. The resemblances to their mother was such that not even aunt Petunia could deny it. It made her harsher towards (Y/N), but not even that dampened the girl’s spirits.

(Y/N) felt confident as she walked by her brother. Since they set foot on Hogwarts, she had been the more popular twin thanks to her kindness and vivaciousness. She paid no mind to the looks and laughed at her brother’s overprotectiveness. As the Fab Four sat at the very front, as per Hermione’s request, (Y/N) felt something hit her in the head. Her hands searched the back of her hair and grabbed the paper crane that landed on her head. She turned around to find the one and only Draco Malfoy staring at her wide-eyed. He had sent the bird as a taunt to her twin brother and in no way had intended for it to hit her. The thought of her seeing the cruel drawing inside the bird made his stomach churn.

Draco was transfixed. It was the first time he saw her since last year and her striking green eyes were doing wicked tricks to his heart. Since year one, he had a crush on her. He thought those who didn’t acknowledge her beauty should be burned at the stake. A year before, the blond had simmered in jealousy when he saw her at the Yule Ball with her brother, but that image paled in comparison to seeing her now. He cringed as she turned around, opening the paper crane.

Just as she did, Snape came in to the classroom. He was not in a good mood and it only got worse when he saw (Y/N) Potter sitting on the front row. She was scribbling something on a piece of parchment. She was the spitting image of Lily Evans during her schooldays, back when they were still friends and he clang to the sliver of hope that she’d love him like he did. It was almost painful to see his student. Her presence soured his mood even more, so he decided he was not putting up with it.

“Eva– I mean, Potter,” he said, motioning to (Y/N), “change places with Goyle.”

(Y/N)’s gaze went back, once again, to the back of the room, where the Slytherins sat. Gregory Goyle was sitting just besides Draco. She stood up silently and put her things in her bag. Harry groaned lowly.

“I’m definitely failing now,” he murmured.

(Y/N) gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s going to be alright, Harry. You’re good at this.”

“Never as good as you, sis,” he countered, “And if that prick does something to you I am going to kill him.”

She rolled her eyes in response and dramatically bid her brother goodbye. She walked all the way to the back of the room, where a very embarrassed Draco Malfoy waited for her. She greeted him cordially as she took her place. Draco and (Y/N) hadn’t crossed more than ten words at a time. She was not a hothead like Harry, so she hardly gave in to the taunting. At times, when he said something particularly nasty, she’d snap. Her comebacks were intelligent and sharp and often than not he’d be to flustered to answer. So, they were not on good terms, but not on a “I want to burn you alive and dance over your ashes” basis.

“I believe this is yours, Malfoy,” she said coolly after handing him the paper crane.

The Slytherin swallowed hard and took the bird from her hands without saying a word. He listened intently as Snape gave the instructions. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her flipping through the pages in her book until she settled on the one with the recipe for the draught of peace.

They brewed the potion in silence. Draco was enamoured by (Y/N)’s gentleness and the way she’d handle everything with the utmost care. She was also unnaturally kind, as she didn’t seem bitter at him for the paper crane or anything, really. It was a relief.

“Are you sure we have to powder the unicorn horn?” He didn’t intend for it to come out as mean, but it sure sounded like that.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, as if challenging him, and theatrically put more pressure on her mortar. Her lips turned into a mischievous smirk and Draco had to stop what himself from putting too much powdered moonstone into the cauldron.

“I recall you saw me read the instructions,” she answered matter-of-factly.

Draco scratched the back of his neck. He took a deep breath and nodded at her sheepishly. “Just checking,” he murmured.

“You should check your hands before adding the ingredients,” she teased as she pointed at the moonstone.

He smiled and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Are you suggesting that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“I suggest nothing, Malfoy. I affirm.”

Draco was about to answer, finding the playful banter amusing, when Snape scolded them from his desk. Assuming they had been bickering, Harry turned around, shooting daggers at the blond and giving her sister encouragement she didn’t need. (Y/N) shrugged and, after her twin turned around, smiled kindly at Draco. After that, they worked mechanically. As their potion turned into the desired turquoise blue colour, (Y/N) even concluded that they were a good team.

As Snape approached to their desk, (Y/N) noticed how he didn’t even spare her a glance. He talked to Draco and asked him questions about the process. And when he gave them their well-deserved O, it was Draco he congratulated. (Y/N) said nothing of it, but found it frustrating. When he walked away, she released the breath she always held when he graded her and started packing.

Before she left, she flashed her classmate yet another impish grin. “I exhort you to open that paper crane.”

Once she was gone, the Slytherin opened the folded bird to find her intervention to his work. He had drawn Harry being hit by a thunder and falling off his broom. She had altered it for it to be him, falling and hitting the ground wrapped in a cloud of dust. It was so well done, Draco couldn’t be offended.

…

For the next two months, (Y/N) and Draco worked together in potions. Every time, they’d engage in small talk and friendly banter. He marvelled at her wittiness and her sense of humour. He loved it when she got dramatic and made theatrical gestures or used aristocratic language just because. Draco was falling hard and fast for the redhaired Potter.

It actually made him wonder over the nature of his hatred for her twin brother. He found her funny and charming. He felt so at peace when they spent time together. And then there was Harry Potter, who he found utterly irritating, brash and self-righteous. He didn’t understand how they could possibly be related. She was amazing in absolutely every way he was faulty.

Maybe he didn’t particularly hate Harry? And why didn’t he ‘hate’ (Y/N) anyways? She was just as self-righteous as her brother. They were practically joined at the hip and she was always involved in the same shenanigans as Harry was. They had the same eyes. Why hate them in one and love them in the other? What was the real reason for him to go out of his way to torment (Y/N)’s twin and friends?

Deep down he knew.

These thoughts consumed him as he did his rounds for the inquisitorial squad. At first, he had joined Umbridge’s team because he wanted the authority and for a while he enjoyed it. Then, (Y/N) and Harry got punished by their sadistic teacher and he no longer wore his badge with pride. He knew they were up to something, but seeing (Y/N)’s swollen hand during their next potion class was enough to feel ashamed of his position.

Draco was just about to go to his common room, when somebody collided with him. He was too deep in his thoughts to feel the rush of getting someone in trouble. And then noticed the deep red hair and the scared green eyes. His heart started beating hard on his chest.

(Y/N) was absolutely terrified. She hadn’t realized it was Draco at first; she was running as fast as she could from the room of requirement. Usually, she left D.A. meetings with Harry, but today he was playing Don Juan with Cho Chang and everyone else was gone. She was good at sneaking around. She was halfway there when she saw Peeves and decided to make a run for it before he saw her and woke the whole castle.

That’s how she had ended practically in Draco’s arms. She was sweaty and out of breath and now she had to deal with the Slytherin prince. He was nice to her in potions, but she wasn’t sure that was enough to get her off the hook. (Y/N) imagined herself getting another detention with Umbridge and it made her want to cry.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said as he grabbed her face tenderly.

For a second there, she thought she was hallucinating. She looked at him, eyes still teary, but also full of confusion. He smiled awkwardly, suddenly self-conscious of their position.

“A-Are you alright?”

“Just a bit agitated.” She tried to be as casual as possible.

“Let me walk you to your common room. That way nobody else will get you in trouble,” he said, offering her arm to her.

Draco knew that she was up to something. If he wanted to, he could’ve gotten all the dirt on their little secret society. She would’ve been in a lot of trouble and he’d be the hero of the school. He said nothing, though, especially because she was holding onto his arm for dear life. They walked peacefully towards the Gryffindor common room and with every step he could only think about the idea that had been brewing in his mind for a while.

(Y/N) thought she was in the most ridiculous situation. She was a member of Dumbledore’s Army and he was Umbridge’s minion. He could’ve gotten her, her brother and friends in trouble, which was what he had wanted to do since their first day in Hogwarts. And here they were, arms linked as he escorted her to safety.

Suddenly, they stood in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait. (Y/N) looked at Draco with gratitude. He nodded and offered her a smile. With trembling fingers, he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Draco noticed (Y/N) blushing a little.

“(Y/N)…there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, the sudden rush of confidence making him lightheaded.

“Yes?”

“Would you go to the next Hogsmeade trip with me? On a date?”

(Y/N) was speechless. She didn’t know Draco thought of her that way, but suddenly the fact that he didn’t rat her out made sense. Of course, he wouldn’t be as lenient had he found Harry or Hermione. She thought about it for a second and smiled when she noticed him getting uncomfortable.

“Let’s make a deal, Draco. The next Hogsmeade trip is a week from tomorrow. If you don’t bully anybody during the week, I’ll go out with you,” she proposed.

She noticed his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?” he groaned.

(Y/N) crossed her arms, amusedly. “Why would I want to go out with somebody that messes with my brother and my friends?”

He considered her for a while and then sighed in defeat.

…

“Is it true that you agreed to go out on a date with Malfoy?” Ron asked in alarm the next morning.

“I didn’t agree,” (Y/N) shot back as she put food on her plate.

Harry was looking at her disapprovingly and she was doing her best to avoid his gaze.

“You agreed to go out with him if he went a week without bullying us,” Hermione interjected with a reproving tone.

“That I did.”

“(Y/N)!” Harry roared.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to not be bullied for a change?” she asked him innocently.

“If the cost is that git snogging my sister then no, it wouldn’t be nice.”

(Y/N) gave him a stern look.

“What? That is what happens on dates, (Y/N).”

“Then you should hurry up and ask Cho Chang to one as well.”

She tried to be humorous, but it clearly didn’t work, so she tried to reason with him instead.

“Come on, Harry. It would hardly be a date,” she said while holding her twin’s hands, “besides, I know Draco can be a nice person if he tries. He has been to me in potions. Why not give him a second chance?”

Harry scoffed. “Why would I ever give that tosser a second chance? He has been messing with us since our first day here!”

They looked at each other and for a moment they had one of their silent conversations. Hermione and Ron stared as Harry failed to be stern and (Y/N) conveyed compassion in her eyes. As always, Harry gave in.

“You’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” he sighed, “and I mean it this time, if that prick does something to you I am going to kill him.”

…

“Which one’s better, ‘Mione?” (Y/N) asked as she held one dress in each hand.

Hermione helped her best friend get ready for her date. As much as she disliked Draco, the week events had made her realize he truly wanted to go out with (Y/N). Throughout the week, Harry and Ron taunted the Slytherin in hopes that he snapped at them, thus ruining the date before it even took place. Hermione had frowned upon their Machiavellian plan, but had not intervened nor rat them out. As the days went by, though, she noticed how hard he was trying to be good. He looked the other way as the Gryffindor boys laughed and teased. He avoided making snarky remarks in class. Once, he even helped Hermione when she tripped and fell.

It had been a very hard week, but he had succeeded. Now he waited awkwardly by the portrait for (Y/N), who arrived a few minutes later. She looked as beautiful as ever with a pretty floral dress. They smiled at each other and walked out of the castle, this time with the regulatory distance according to Umbridge’s decree.

As they made their way to Hogsmeade, (Y/N) thought this could possibly be the most awkward date of her life. It didn’t help that it would probably her first real date ever. What could they have in common apart from their shared space in potions? What would they talk about? Then, she noticed how Draco was fidgeting with his fingers. She found that cute and it made her instantly relax.

As they sat at the Three Broomsticks, all of their collective fears of a bad date were soon proved wrong. They had a great time together. They talked about their favourite candies, their favourite pastimes, quidditch. Draco asked about her life as a muggle with genuine curiosity. She was actually very blunt about her situation at home, something that both marvelled and unsettled him. They laughed and made jokes and got theatrical together.

They walked back to the castle hand in hand. Once they reached the school, Draco dragged (Y/N) through some less frequented corridors. Engrossed in their conversation as they were, they failed to notice the Gryffindor trio following them. Harry and Ron were absolutely enraged as they saw the couple stop behind a column. Hermione had to restrain them when Draco put his hand on (Y/N)’s cheek. She squeezed their arms as the blond boy leaned in and gave (Y/N) a kiss she happily corresponded.

Harry was livid. His baby sister had her arms around that slimy git’s neck. He wanted to rip his head off.

“Hardly a date my arse,” he muttered under his breath.

tags: @cleopatera @okaydraco @naomi02hook @the--queen-of-hell @honeymarvel @the-hufflefluffwriter

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iceshard1011 · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders Characters: Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Additional Tags: pre janus' photoshoot, he had no right looking that gorgeous okay, yeah literally got inspired by the fact that janus and roman wore the same lipstick, could be romantic or platonic, Insecurity, Self Confidence Issues, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, who is only mentioned once, Making Up, (kind of), Hopeful Ending, Guilt, Makeover, In which i call myself a multishipper and then continuously go nuts over roceit, Ro goes from confused himbo to romance expert way too fast, and that's bias for you, Listen just because janus is self preservation doesn't mean he's got good self esteem, Janus ‘self care’ sanders: what is makeup, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship Summary:

Janus needs to get ready for his turn for that stupid photoshoot idea Thomas offered him. He’s not exactly looking for help, but he gets it anyway.

And… maybe something more.

2k word fic under the cut :)

The mindscape hadn’t seen much of it’s self-proclaimed prince lately. It was painfully noticeable, given the halls weren’t being deafened by singing, and no one was as challengeable or as willing to bicker as much anymore. Patton’s smile was just this side of strained at breakfast. Logan would look up, eyes sparkling and eyebrow half-raised, the beginnings of something on his tongue before he would remember there was no one to say it to. Virgil kept sneaking sideways glances towards the staircase, as if no one could see him.

Not that Janus was bothered, of course. He had always preferred peace and quiet over chaos. He had just… become slightly acclimated to it during his years with Remus.

Except… it did make things exceptionally difficult when Janus needed something.

Even more so when he didn’t know exactly what it was he wanted.

Janus tried not to curl his lip too much as he stared at his reflection. Stupid sides and stupid Thomas and his followers and his own stupid thoughts. This looked wrong and felt wrong and Janus was a few seconds away from burning this damn —

An opening door. It creaked slightly, not enough that it was Virgil’s, but certainly not Logan’s. It was opened hesitantly, not something that Patton would have much reason for. Perfect.

Janus stuck to the shadows as he slunk down the hallway. It was unnecessary, as had been prefaced many times by the others — even Virgil had caught him at one point, in the middle of slithering silently into the kitchen for something to drink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Virgil had said. “You’re allowed to get something to eat.” (Janus had not pointed out that his throat had been parched and itching for water from a dying scream after flashing images had raped his sleeping mind.) “Plus, you look ridiculous skulking behind furniture like that, anyway.” Janus had flicked his tongue at him and left to get his water.

Roman hesitated at the top of the stairs before slowly making his way down. Janus didn’t know what he was looking for, but it didn’t seem to deter him. Once he was out of sight, Janus shot into his room, the door still creaking open.

What did he need? What was he going to need to put on? What were the requirements of this stupid activity?

He didn’t even know what he wanted. What would help? What would cover up enough that he fit the unspoken, stupid critera for these damn photos? What did foundation do? Would it dry his skin out? He was not in the mood to deal with brittle scales.

Lipstick. Roman had used lipstick in his photoshoot.

Janus shot forward and grabbed the first one of the display rack.

“Stealing now, are you?”

Janus whirled around, thankfully crushing the rather embarrassing squeak before it could escape.

“Oh, absolutely,” he purred, but the not-lie was immediately evident the moment Roman’s angry eyes trailed down to the lipstick clenched in his fist.

“You sly little —” The prince marched forward, face twisted dangerously, and despite himself, Janus found himself stepping backwards.

Roman wasn’t violent. He was brash, and impulsive, and when he pulled his sword on whatever startled him, but he had never, not once, used physical aggression to prove a point.

Janus found it hard to believe he would start now, but… Roman had never been driven to such a point before now.

And Janus was the reason.

It was when he had stalked close enough that their height differences were clear enough that under normal circumstances, Janus would be rather annoyed (now, however, he was only focusing on keeping his breath calm and his gaze level), that Roman seemed to notice the way Janus was dressed.

“What are you wearing?” he uttered, suddenly sounding far more confused than mad.

“Something that was certainly all my idea,” Janus hissed, waiting for the disbelieving eyebrow raise, for the look that said You? Really? Waiting, as tense as he had ever been, for more laughing.

Roman did nothing except manage to look even more lost. “Oh.”

Janus wasn’t sure if he felt irritated or guilty at the prince’s crestfallen look.

Irritated, apparently, as his thoughts began to hiss.

Oh, terribly sorry that I’ve been accepted like the rest of you. My apologies that I aim to help Thomas just like everyone else in this damn place. I am so sorry that for whatever godforsaken reason they asked me to put on these ridiculous —

“Well, hurry up and finish the look,” Roman said, as if resigning himself to a fate that no one asked him to.

Janus blinked at him.

Roman summoned a hand-held mirror and held it out towards him.

Janus didn’t quite say ‘what the hell’ — but it was close.

Roman seemed smart enough to read the baffled look on his face. “You can apply it here so I can be assured you will hand it back when you are done. I can’t trust someone like you to return it otherwise.”

“I’m sure you can replace a single stick,” Janus said, just slightly scathingly.

Roman didn’t seem discouraged. He expectantly held the mirror out further.

Janus’ stomach was writhing uncomfortably. He kept his face carefully blank, loath to betray how distasteful he found this, and glared at the mirror. He ignored the bemused look Roman gave him when he struggled with uncapping the lid, and fought against the slight tremors in his hand.

He didn’t get very far before Roman, looking absolutely scandalized, reared back like a startled horse. Janus paused when his mirror was yanked away and glared up at the prince.

“I would appreciate a limited amount of interruptions,” he began but Roman had already dumped the mirror and darted forward to snatch the lipstick from his hand. “Hey!”

“Why did you try applying it like that?” he cried. Janus shuffled, bewildered.

“I know exactly what you’re —”

“No, no,” Roman interrupted, waving his hands. “No. Stop. Come here.”

Janus bared his teeth. “Why?”

“You look like you’ve never applied makeup a day in your life,” Roman said, and suddenly Janus didn’t have any quips to reply with. Roman squinted. “You’ve never used makeup?”

“Because I have always had a reason to,” Janus snapped. Roman raised his hands, which surprised him.

“Right.” The prince beckoned again, but Janus remained rooted. What on earth was the moron trying to achieve?

Roman seemed to pick up on his hesitance, and leaned forward, quietly scrutinizing. Janus bit back on a snarl.

“When’s the shoot?” Roman asked.

“What?” Janus said, slightly more harsh than he intended.

“The photoshoot,” Roman clarified.

“Whenever I want,” Janus snapped.

Roman, rather than retorting, or recoiling, lit up. “Perfect!”

Janus slunk backwards. “What are you playing at, White Knight?”

A flash of confusion danced in Roman’s eyes for a split second before he lost himself in his excitement once more.

“Your makeup, Phantom of the Opera!” he shrilled, bouncing over to his vanity and pulling out the chair. “I’ll do it for the photoshoot! Come, sit, sit!” Janus narrowed his eyes. He didn’t move. Roman faltered. “Or… or not. I don’t —”

“Why?” Janus interjected.

“You can’t get dressed up without a little makeup,” Roman said with a smile.

“The others did,” Janus pointed out, but Roman waved him off.

“It’s imperative to feel good when you should be looking good!” He began to dig around in his draws, pulling out a variety of brushes and different coloured palettes. Janus didn’t know what any of them were for.

“What are you implying?” he asked slowly.

Roman paused long enough to level him with a skeptical look. “You, who came in here for makeup and got caught red handed… are trying to ask what I am getting at?”

Janus glared at him.

Roman gestured to the chair once more. “Sit.”

Sulking, Janus sat.

Roman studied him carefully for a moment before beginning to sort through his ridiculously large assortments of strange… makeup… things.

The prince started slowly, using an odd, coloured sponge, but Janus still flinched when the first cold sensation started to plaster his face.

Roman pulled back as well. “Sorry. Here, this is primer. It’s kind of like moisturiser.”

Janus’s tongue flicked in and out for a moment in consideration. Coming to a decision, he forced himself to sit still and allow Roman to start again. He must have realised Janus was still not entirely comfortable with this setting, so he began to offer what each tool was and what it did as he applied it to Janus’ face.

Primer, foundation, ‘concealer,’ whatever the hell that was…

It was quiet for a few minutes while Janus let Roman work before he finally had to speak.

“You’re… not doing my other side.”

Roman didn’t pause, moving to pick a different brush and palette. “Your scales?” he asked, focusing on where he was working. Janus found the lack of eye contact oddly comforting.

“Why aren’t you covering them up?” Janus asked.

Roman did halt, then, and lowered the brush. He frowned slightly. “Why would I want to?”

The earnest in his voice made Janus falter. The prince’s genuine confusion made his chest feel impossibly wide and too warm. Roman had already resumed his work, completely clueless to what he’d done.

You fucking himbo, Janus thought.

“Close your eyes for me,” Roman instructed. Janus frowned at him. Roman didn’t seem to understand that kind of action required an amount of trust that Janus certainly did not have for him yet. He elaborated with a beseeching, “Please?”

Janus’ eyes closed.

He could tell Roman was pleased when he got back to work. “Keep your eyes relaxed, but don’t open them, unless you want a bunch of brush bristles where they should not be.”

“Pleasant,” Janus remarked.

“Very,” Roman agreed sagely. Janus bit down the smirk.

It was quiet again, apart from Roman beginning to hum the beginnings of a song. Janus didn’t recognise it, and he wasn’t even sure Roman knew he was doing it. But it wasn’t unpleasant, so Janus let it be. The lack of silence was comforting against any awkwardness that could have remained.

Eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara.

Eventually, Roman leaned back, and beamed. “There.” He held up another — how many did he have? — handheld mirror. “Look!”

Janus looked.

Roman’s smile softened as he glanced between Janus’ face and his reflection. “You like it.” It wasn’t a question.

“How do you know?” Janus asked.

“I didn’t push any blush on your cheeks.”

Janus didn’t point out that Roman had moved his hand to Janus’ knee and it was burning through the skirt, but sure. Janus could agree that he didn’t hate the look Roman had given him.

Roman’s eyes scanned over Janus’ face once more, and this time Janus matched his gaze unwaveringly. A smile twitched at Roman’s lips, and the prince jumped.

“Oh! Almost forgot the whole reason this happened!” He twisted around and turned back, jabbing the lipstick at Janus’ face. It was jolting, and Janus jerked backwards against his own will. “Sorry, sorry.” Roman held a hand. “Come here, come back. I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Janus remained still as Roman lined his lips with the paint. The fingers pressed to the edge of his jawline rendered him rather useless against his instincts, anyway.

Roman’s eyebrows twitched downward for a second. He must have made a mistake, because he moved to carefully swipe a finger at the edge of Janus’ lips.

Goddamn it, this was such a mistake.

Janus swallowed.

Finally, after way too long how slow do you apply lipstick, Roman pulled back, seeming satisfied.

“Now you're ready for a photoshoot,” he decided.

Janus glanced back to his reflection. He still had some of his own details to add, but… yes. Janus could almost agree.

Roman went back to sorting through his various makeup supplies. Janus felt a little transfixed with the deft movements of the prince, how certain he moved, how he knew where everything needed to be. A confidence Janus had failed to see in… a very, very long time.

A sharp laugh, vicious and hurtful, the lie doing nothing to soften the blow —

Janus stood abruptly, the chair wobbling against the carpet. Roman glanced up. He seemed to remember where they had been before Janus’ makeover, and for a moment his eyes darkened. Janus braced himself for another argument.

Then Roman’s shoulders relaxed and he tilted his head. “Have fun,” he said. Then, after a moment, added, “You’ll kill it.”

Janus halted at the doorway before he could flee, taken off guard. He glanced down at the prince, who gifted him a small smile.

Janus didn’t smile back. He turned to study the doorway framework. “It would certainly be rather… dismal if you came down for dinner at some point tonight. Presumably, at the same time as everyone else.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, truly?” he said. His voice was warm.

Janus sighed theatrically. “Oh, I don’t know. I couldn't argue if you were to try to prove me wrong.”

Roman tossed his head. “Watch it, Noodles. You don’t want to defy a knight.”

“Perhaps not,” Janus mused, regarding a chip in the doorway’s wood. “But a hero never backs down from a challenge.”

He didn’t wait to see Roman’s expression. He wisped away down the hallway without looking back, without seeing what he could have just done.

Like a coward.

He may have just made things worse. He could have reversed everything that odd makeup session had built. He was well aware of the fact that if that was the case he should have kept his mouth shut.

But oddly, Roman’s silence hadn’t seemed heavy. He hadn’t tensed. He hadn’t shouted, or scowled, or slammed the door in Janus’ face.

Granted, Janus hadn’t given him a chance to, but…

As he slid into his room and quietly closed the door behind him, he didn’t feel horrible. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Now. He set his gaze on his closet, still open and waiting. Where was his hat?

#sanders sides #roceit #janus sanders #roman sanders #long post #cross posted on ao3 #inspired by twitter #sanders sides fic #angst #janus is a sad boy #fluff #hopeful ending #literally someone has probably already done this #so. those skirt pics huh.#janus is unfairly pretty

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mazikomo · 3 years

Text

Little something about how Ezio learned of a rather blatant part of Andrea’s past. The boy was truly unobservant back then.

(Tw for mentioned attempted sexual assault, specifically the scene in the first Cristina memory from Brotherhood) Image credit, OP has deactivated

Sorry I Asked

Venice, 1482

It had become routine for Ezio and Andrea. They’d get a bottle of wine, more often than not swiped from Antonio’s stash, and find a rooftop free of guards where they could sit and enjoy each other’s company. On this particular night, the topic of conversation had become romances and conquests as Rosa had given Ezio a particularly flirtatious smirk as they were leaving the thieves guild.

“Alright, I have to know,” Ezio asked as they settled down onto the roof tiles, “was my brother actually as good in bed as he claimed to be?” Andrea took the first swig from the bottle before wiping her mouth on her sleeve and passing it to Ezio.

“Well, I only have Vieri to compare against but—“ She was interrupted by Ezio spitting out his drink.

“VIERI?? As in Vieri de’ Pazzi??”

“Uh, yes? How many other Vieri’s do you kn—“

“You slept with Vieri de’ Pazzi???” he yelled, voice cracking towards the end. A look of horror then came across his face as he remembered Vieri’s actions towards Cristina before he had stepped in. “He... he didn’t force you or anything, did he?” he asked hesitantly.

“What? Of course not! He knew better than to even think about trying anything like that with me. The Vieri you are thinking of is very different from the one I knew then.” Andrea explained.

Ezio let out the breath he was holding. “Bene, otherwise I would have to figure out a way to beat up someone in the afterlife. But why Vieri of all people?” he asked in disgust, “How did that even happen?”

Andrea raised a confused eyebrow at him before a look of realization dawned across her face. “Ohhh, you do not know do you?” and then more to herself, “I assumed it was obvious with the duel and everything.”

“What was obvious?” he asked, lifting the bottle for a drink in an attempt to fix the croaks in his voice.

“Ezio, I was supposed to marry Vieri. He was my intended.”

This time, Ezio choked on his drink and Andrea had to roughly pat his back a few times as he coughed the liquid out of his throat. When he finally got himself under control he spoke, “Okay, let me make sure I have this correct. Not only did you sleep with Vieri, which brings an appalling image to my head by the way, you were supposed to marry him?”

“Ezio, think about it,” she spoke in a practical tone, “I was the daughter of a Templar, he was the son of a Templar, it made perfect sense. Our fathers made the arrangement shortly after I was born. I was just unaware that was the reason for the union.”

“But, I thought you and Federico were to be married?”

“We were planning on it yes. I loved Federico more than anything, I still do,” her voice tapered off for a moment, “but before he came into my life there was Vieri and, as was his right, he was determined to have his promised claim on me made official. Thus the duel between him and your brother.”

“Wait, so that means—“

“For all intents and purposes, Federico was the one meddling in civil matters that did not concern him, yes.” She confirmed, “Vieri and I grew up together as children and, to both of our surprises, actually began a romantic relationship before our planned marriage. As you can tell that relationship did not last but that is a story for another time.” she waved off, “The brash, hot-headed Vieri you knew was not the one I knew. Yes, he could be an absolute cazzo at times, but he did care for me and dare I say was even more protective of me than your brother.”

“I… I never would have guessed that.” Ezio spoke softly as he sat back, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

“Ezio, it is not exactly like you were the most perceptive person back then either. You were focused on yourself more than anything.” He opened his mouth to retort before shrugging in agreement. “As they say,” Andrea continued, reaching for the bottle out of Ezio’s hands and bringing it to her lips, “ignorance is bliss—and we certainly lived in ignorance of many things back then.”

Ezio nodded solemnly in agreement. A soft silence settled between them as their minds travelled back to distant, carefree days.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Andrea spoke, “it certainly shocked Federico when he found out. He must have spluttered for ten minutes before he was able to form actual words again.” She laughed, the memory bringing a smile her face. “But to answer your question, Federico was an fantastic lover. Mind-blowing orgasms, never failed to reduce me to a pile of exhausted limbs after.” Ezio felt heat rising to his cheeks at her unabashed language. “For your sake let us hope that is a trait all the Auditore men have.” She finished with a smirk and a wink, taking another drink from the bottle.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” Ezio cried indignantly.

Andrea shrugged and moved to bring the bottle up for another drink only for Ezio to swipe it back for himself and take a deep gulp.

“Someone has to tease you and keep your ego in check.” she patronized, “Consider it a way of honoring Federico’s memory.”

Ezio rolled his eyes.

#my writing #andrea #assassin's creed oc

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jbbarnesnnoble · 3 years

Text

Chaos

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are not friends. You’re partners who put up with each other, whose styles on the field clash constantly. One mission leads to a moment of vulnerability

Features: Angst; Brief mentions of violence, mentions of past human experimentation and unknown medical issues

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Notes: This is my late submission for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan‘s Hamifilm Lyric challenge. Time got away from me, between my dissertation and starting a new job. I’m not entirely happy with how this turned out, but it still ended up running away from me.

My prompt was chaos and bloodshed are not a solution

Word Count: 2984

You were itching for a change. You had been cooped up in the compound for far too long after your last mission. You had broken your wrist on your last outing and had gotten shot. You had only just been cleared. It hadn’t been your fault, but Barnes would argue otherwise.You and Bucky Barnes didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t friends. You worked well together in the field, all things considered. It was why the two of you were constantly paired together.

He had been livid after your last mission. The silence on the way back to the compound had spoken volumes. The two of you had brought Peter Parker out into the field for what was supposed to be a training mission, a low level one that was supposed to have minimal danger. The key words there were supposed to. Things had gone south the second the three of you entered the building.

Your wrist had ended up broken after you pushed Peter to the ground when you dove in front of him. The lone operative you had yet to find had taken aim at the teenager. You took the shot for him and Barnes took out the operative. Unlike Barnes and Peter, you didn’t have a healing factor. The shot had been dangerously close to striking something vital, but hadn’t. Barnes had been able to stitch you up on the quinjet and gave you the silent treatment all the while.

It hadn’t been until later that night that the two of you got into it. Words had flown recklessly, and you were both dangerously close to crossing the point of no return with them. Steve had had to intervene to get the two of you to calm down.

You found yourself sitting by the window, watching the snow fall outside. You had made yourself a cup of hot chocolate, fully intending to enjoy the day off from training. Even with your injury, you had still been responsible to train, doing what you could without agitating your wrist. You had finally been cleared to return to full active duty that morning, six weeks after the mission that had ended in disaster.

You groaned when FRIDAY told you your presence was required in one of the conference rooms. So much for a relaxing Saturday morning.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The mission briefing devolved quickly into an argument between you and Barnes. The two of you were put as the point people on the mission, and you had different views on how to handle it. You preferred the guns blazing approach. Loud and brash was your style when dealing with the kind of people the mission involved. You had read enough of the brief to know what you were dealing with. You never cared for the nitty gritty details, something that annoyed Barnes to no end.

“All I’m saying is we storm the place, take out the bad guys and call it a day. Intelligence says there’s only about a dozen or so in the building. It’s a cake walk,” you said, tossing the folder down on the table. Bucky’s expression hardened as he glared at you. You refused to back down.

“Chaos and bloodshed are not a solution. Not every plan has to end with blood on your hands,” Bucky snapped, his hands hitting the table. You recoiled. You had never seen him have this reaction before. He’d been annoyed before, sometimes a little angry, but he never looked as angry as he did in that moment. You knew he was right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give an inch of ground.

“Then what do you propose, oh Great One. You’ve never been one to be a pacifist before,” you replied. He glared at you. You refused to shrink back under the intensity of his gaze.

“Did you even read the mission brief fully, Agent? There are children there. No older than Parker. Do you really want that on your hands?” he challenged. He knew you hadn’t read the full brief. You snatched the folder off the table, feeling the blood rush from your face as you saw what you had missed. A sick feeling made itself at home in the pit of your stomach.

“Okay. We nix the guns blazing approach. But that doesn’t guarantee they won’t hurt them, or worse, use them as human shields against us,” you replied, sitting down in an empty chair, shoulders slumped. You saw his expression soften but ignored it. Now was not the time to get distracted by Barnes. You couldn’t believe you missed that detail. A sick feeling settled in your stomach.

“We have to do this carefully. If we use the tech to our advantage, we can infiltrate without arousing suspicion,” Natasha offered. You nodded. You ran a hand over your face in frustration before you collected your thoughts, your mind moving a mile a minute as you looked over the maps FRIDAY was projecting.

“We don’t have many options. Scott, how do you feel about some recon?” you asked. Scott was your best option. You didn’t want to risk anything going wrong. Not now that you knew there were children involved. Scott was good at moving around undetected.

“I can do that,” he said. You glanced around the room. It was only you, Natasha, Bucky, and Scott in the room. Peter was missing. A frown settled on your face. Parker was supposed to be there. He had been there when you walked in but was no longer there. The four of you and Peter were the only ones at the compound. The others were on other missions and this one had come in urgently. You knew it had been on the radar for a while, but something had changed in the situation that triggered an immediate need for action.

“Wait...where is Parker?” you asked. It dawned on the others that the teen was no longer in the room. You got your answer when seconds later he all but crashed through the door.

“Sorry, sorry, Ned called. He’s stuck in Metuchen,” Peter said. Something was off about his tone. All eyes were on him, waiting for some sort of explanation.

“Where?” Scott asked, confused. You knew where that was. Your mind was racing to put the pieces together as you took in Peter’s tense body language, the nervousness he held. You glanced at the map in front of you, the pieces coming together, before you asked the question you already knew the answer to.

“Is he in Jersey?” you asked, brow furrowed. You knew in your gut that the kid had done something he shouldn’t have. Metuchen was where the building was you were looking to infiltrate.You saw the moment Bucky realized what you had already pieced together.

“Peter...why is Ned in Jersey?” Bucky asked. Peter went wide eyed.

“I...well...you see...I have some new prototypes and well...you have to be in close proximity to operate them,” Peter said.

“Peter, please tell me Ned isn’t near that building,” Natasha said.

“I could tell you that...but it’d be a lie,” Peter said, his voice trailing off. You took a deep breath before meeting Bucky’s eyes. The two of you shared a look, only breaking eye contact when Bucky spoke.

“Wheels up in five. There’s a landing zone we can use not far from where they are,” Bucky said. No one made a move.

“Let’s go people. We don’t have all day. Scott, you’re first in, get us a visual on the kids and Ned if you can,” you said.

“I didn’t say they caught him,” Peter said. You stared him down. Even if he wasn’t still nervous, a by-product of his age and his experience in the field, you knew his tells. Aside from Tony, you were one of his primary mentors. Whether it was fighting tactics or help with his history homework, Peter came to you for a lot of things. He had become your little brother in a way.

“They caught Ned but they didn’t take his phone,” Peter admitted. A tense silence gripped the room. There was a new sense of urgency.

“At least it seems like they’re incompetant,” Scott replied, trying to bring some levity to the situation.

“Or they want to draw us in. We need to be cautious,” Natasha said. You knew that Natasha had a point. As sloppy as they had been, there was always the risk that it was a trap.

“We don’t know what they have. They could still figure it out, still disable any tech we use somehow. We need to be prepared for anything,” Bucky replied, glancing over at you. Everyone stood, ready to head to the jet.

“FRIDAY, get a location on Ned’s phone. Peter, you need to tell us everything you know,” you said as you began walking out of the room and toward the hangar.

It didn’t take long for the five of you to reach the landing zone you had designated. It wasn’t a far walk. Peter’s newest invention was a miniaturized drone. You had reviewed the footage with Bucky and Natasha en route to the landing zone. You had to admit, you had an advantage going in with the footage.

“What are you thinking?” Natasha asked.

“We still send Scott in first. Before Ned was taken, seems like the perimeter was insecure. It doesn’t seem like they were waiting for us, and it seems like they were surprised to find Ned,” you said.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not a trap. Comms stay open. There’s a drainage pipe that leads right into the grounds. We use that as our entry point. Chaos and Parker will use their abilities to get in. Scott, you’re flying,” Bucky said.

“Wait for your call?” you asked.

“As soon as I call it you go,” Bucky replied. Your powers allowed you to phase through objects. You likened it to Danny Phantom. You had a heightened healing factor and super strength that came with it. Your other main power involved controlling the elements around you. There was a reason they called you Chaos.

“Catch you on the other side,” you said as you and Peter split off. It was another ten minutes before Bucky and Natasha reached the entry point from the drainage pipe. Scott had made his way deep into the facility. You were headed right for the children and Ned. You knew there were others spread throughout the building but your priority was getting the innocent ones to safety. Natasha and Bucky would handle taking out others on their way to meet you and Peter.

“Howdy gentlemen,” you said as you curled your hand, focusing on the task at hand. You and Peter made quick work of taking down those in your way without alerting them to your presence. It was a key to succeeding. You had read more of the file than Bucky gave you credit for. While you had missed the information on the children being held currently, you knew they were brutal when they thought someone was on to them.

“I have eyes on Ned. I don’t think they figured out he was surveilling them,” Scott’s voice came. You and Peter had entered another room, ensuring it was cleared. You saw a stack of folders and nodded your head toward them.

“What’s this say?” Peter asked.

“It says they’re dead men walking. I thought the last of them were wiped off the earth,” you said your voice low.

“Who are they, Chaos?” he asked.

“The reason I am the way I am. Hydra weren’t the only ones interested in recreating the serum that made Captain America. They thought children were the key. I should have known it wouldn’t be the end,” you said. It was personal, now. You tore your way through the building as your comms buzzed in your ear. By the time you reached the room where the captives were being held, you could feel the energy crackling around you. You and Peter breached the door. He made quick work of webbing the two men standing guard inside the room as you checked on the children and Ned. You broke the lock on a cabinet, finding a stash of blankets, enough for each of them, if they shared.

“What happened?” Natasha asked as she and Bucky rounded the corner and entered the room.

“We’ll talk at the debrief. I’ve already gotten in contact with the compound. Dr. Cho is waiting for us with the entire medical staff on standby. FRIDAY will run facial recognition when we get to the jet. There’s a team enroute to secure the rest of the building and take anything we may be interested in,” you said. You were on autopilot.

It wasn’t until late that night that the five of you gathered in the meeting room to debrief. You were still on edge.

“What the hell happened there? I thought we agreed to limit the bloodshed as much as possible. You want to tell me why Abrams is telling me there was a trail of destruction in your wake?” Bucky asked.

“Because it’s the same organization that did this to me. The same organization that stole my childhood to try to re-create Steve. I’ll admit, I lost control. But you would have too, Barnes,” you said.

“I didn’t realize,” he started to say before you cut him off.

“Neither did I. I thought we wiped them out years ago. Turns out we were wrong. We just drove them deeper underground instead,” you said. The rest of the debrief was uneventful. Your reports were due in forty-eight hours, though you knew yours would be done by morning. You hated dwelling on things.

You found yourself making a cup of hot chocolate, extra marshmallows and whipped cream, before heading to the balcony that was just off of the Avengers living area. It was a post mission routine, one that helped you get out of the headspace that came with missions. The night had a slight chill to it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You heard the door slide open a short time later. You could tell by the footsteps who it was.

“Thought I’d find you out here. You did good today,” Bucky said, sitting down in the seat beside you.

“I thought you said chaos and bloodshed were not a solution?” you asked, lowering your voice to mimic him. He cracked a smile before laughing with you joining in.

“It wasn’t. Not for entering the building. Chaos and bloodshed have a time and a place,” he replied. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you sipped on your hot chocolate, looking up at the sky. You were scanning the night sky for any constellations you could identify.

“What’s on your mind?” Bucky asked. You glanced over at him.

“You ever think about how in the grand scheme of things, we’re just specks of dust floating through space? There’s worlds out there we know nothing about. And in a second, that can just disappear and the universe just moves on,” you said.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked. You sighed.

“How much do you know about how I came to join the team?” you asked him. You weren’t sure you had ever talked to him about it. The relationship between the two of you was frosty, sometimes cordial, sometimes filled with angst and anger. You couldn’t recall ever having a heart to heart with him.

“I know this group we took out today had a role in you becoming who you are,” he said.

“They told my parents they could fix me. I was sick when I was a kid...not sick, more of a medical mystery. The doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong. MRIs, x-rays, blood tests. They ran the gamut of tests and nothing came of it. Until Dr. Westerly. Dr. Westerly came a long, had this test she could run. She told my parents the condition I had had no name but I was a perfect candidate for a clinical trial. They were desperate. It took my parents a month to realize something was wrong. I was injected with something that gave me powers. When Westerly caught on that they were suspecting something, she took me and fled. Six months. She had me for six months, running tests. SHIELD found me and brought me home. More specifically, Fury,” you explained.

“How known was this to SHIELD?” he asked.

“Not very. My father and Fury are old friends. Fury trusted very few with my rescue. Clint was on the team that got me out. Fury oversaw my training covertly because the man has never been trusting, not really. You have to earn it, it’s not just given,” you replied.

You didn’t want to get into the details and Bucky wasn’t about to pry. You didn’t jump when his hand covered yours. Soon enough you moved closer to him, his arm moving to be around your shoulder.

“There’s Orion,” Bucky said, gesturing toward the sky.

“That’s always been one of my favorites,” you replied. The two of you sat comfortably for a while, pointing out constellations and other stars. You couldn’t recall every sitting and just talking to him. Under the moonlight, he looked almost ethereal. You’d be lying if you said you never found him attractive. You didn’t see him giving you the same look when you’d look away.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but you drifted off beside him, cuddled into his side. You woke up, still outside beside him, with a thick blanket strewn across the two of you, a note attached by your hand in Natasha’s writing. You smiled as you read it, before nestling back into Bucky’s side. You’d address the elephant in the room later, content to sleep beside him as the sun rose over the horizon.

#bucky barnes #star’s hamilfilm lyric challenge #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #winter soldier fanfic #winter soldier

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torialeysha · 3 years

Text

Cold feet - Part 16

Bakers redemption

A/N: I’m on a roll guys! Your love, patience and support for this story fuels my fire for writing, a fire I thought I had lost and for that I am eternally grateful. Thank you all <3

Songs: Carry me home - Jorja Smith ft Maverick Sabre

Can’t buy happiness - Tash Sultana

Fortunately the awkwardness of the journey home was lost on you as all you could do was think about Alfie. You questioned the sincerity of his visit and wondered why it had taken him so long to realise you had lied about the ridiculous possibility of him not being the father of your unborn baby? He had asked you for forgiveness. A shot at redemption. Could you give it to him? Could you allow him another chance when he had already let you down not once but twice? Were you foolish enough to give him the opportunity to do it again? Would he do it again? He said that he had seen the error of his ways and that he really did want the baby. Did he mean it? Could you believe him even if he did? He said he could prove it to you and you were curious to see how. Silently you pondered, driving yourself insane with question after question that regrettably you didn’t have the answers to.

After a tedious battle with the London traffic the car finally pulled up outside the opulent townhouse Charles was renting. The atmosphere still frosty and tense as you crossed it’s threshold. You were in the process of removing your coat when one of the butlers collared Charles.

“There’s a Mr Changretta waiting for you in the lounge, sir.” He announced casually as he took your coat. Your hair immediately stood on end.

“Ok. I’ll be right there. Meanwhile, could you please fetch Ms Y/L/N something to eat.” Charles hands his coat to the butler then turns to you. “I won’t be long. Feel free to start without me.” He told you coldly. But you were no longer worried about food and more concerned about the fact that Luca Changretta was in the next room.

Fraught, you staggered to the dining room and began to pace, anxiously wondering what the occupants next door were discussing. You manoeuvred towards the wall that separated the lounge from the dining room and placed your ear against it, hoping that the divide was thin enough to be able to hear their conversation. Their muffled voices vibrated through the wall. You edged closer to the crack of the locked double doors that connected the two rooms and the voices got slightly clearer.

“...And you really trust this broad? You’re sure she isn’t the problem?” It was Luca’s voice.

“Of course I trust her! I wouldn’t have involved her if I didn’t.”

“How much does she know?”

“Hardly anything. She asked me some questions about the club. Why I bought it for her and why I insisted I put it in her name and not mine, but her curiosity is only natural, Luca.”

Your stomach rolled realising they were talking about you.

“What did you tell her?”

“I fed her some bullshit about wanting to give her the world.”

“Nice. So she doesn’t know anything about the money coming in from New York?”

“No, I take care of the books and I keep them locked in my safe.”

“Good.”

There was a brief silence before Luca spoke again.

“Tell me, Cuz, what are your feelings for this broad? You still intend on marrying her when this is all over?”

Cuz? Why would Luca call Charles that?

“Yes. I love her.”

Charles’ confession made you feel sick.

There’s another long pause before Luca speaks again.

“Then you have my blessing. But I’m warning ya, I don’t know if my dear Aunt will be as accepting. You know how she only wants the best for her son.”

Cousin? Aunt? Son? You felt the colour drain from your face as realisation dawned on you.

“Y/N is best for me. Now can we please stop discussing my personal life and get back to business.”

“Of course. I hear what you’re saying about the Jew but we need him alive for now. I think he’ll be able to help us deal with Thomas Shelby.”

“Solomon’s is tight with Shelby. There’s no way he’d sell him out.”

“Oh, he will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse... Don’t look so worried, Chuck, all will be revealed soon. You just carry on doing what you’re doing and remember that we’re doing this per la famiglia. Luca’s foreign tongue made you shudder. “Once Solomon’s, Shelby and Sabini are dealt with. London will be ours for the taking.”

You pulled away from the door just as Charles was asking about Sabini. You had heard enough.

It was worse than you or Tommy had anticipated. Charles and Luca wasn’t just business relations, they were blood relations. His money was their money. Your time and efforts had been in vain. Any hope of sabotaging their connection was gone. Replaced with an overwhelming sense of alarming trepidation. You had to leave. There was no way you could stay now knowing what you know.

The main door of the dining room swung open, startling you.

“I’m terribly sorry miss. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The flustered housemaid apologised as she shuffled in with your supper.

“Please don’t apologise.” You told her shakily.

“You’re white as a sheet! I must’ve given you a proper fright. Poor thing. Sit ya self down and I’ll fetch you something to drink.”

“No, no. I’m fine. It’s just-I’ve received word today that my friend isn’t well and it’s come as quite a shock. I would like to check on her to see if she’s feeling better. Could you let Mr Fenton know that I’m going to visit her and I won’t be back until later.”

“Of course, Miss, but what about your tea?” She signals to the silver tray she’s carrying.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. I’ll eat it when I return.”

“Ok, Miss. I’ll put it by for later.” She took off with the tray of food and without a second thought you made for the door without even stopping for your coat or purse.

In a daze you wandered down the street, feeling hopelessly lost in a city that had been your home for 20 odd years. You headed north, knowing that regardless of your current uncertainty towards Alfie you would have to warn him and get word to Tommy. Without your purse you had no money to jump on a bus or the underground. Your only option was to trudge the busy late afternoon streets to your destination. It would take roughly an hour to get from Central to Camden, probably the same amount of time it would take Charles to suspect something was amiss. It was a distressing thought that caused you to pick up pace. To make up time you decided to take a shortcut that lead you along the river and down the canals. It was a risky move as the muddy banks of the canals were refuge to some unsavoury characters - mainly drunkards - desperate men that would find easy prey on a young woman trekking the waterways on her own.

The sun was slowly sinking into twilight by the time you had reached Camden lock. Despite your exhaustion you were relieved to have made it in one piece but you shouldn’t have spoke too soon. In the distance you could see a group of what looked like 3 men huddled together along the path which you needed to pass to get across to the bakery. Your blistered feet slowed but it was too late, they had already spotted you. You quickly tried to think of an alternative route. The only other way was to swim across but jumping in and braving the grim green water that was frothing with rubbish and other questionable substances wasn’t tempting to say the least. There was nothing you could do now except carry on walking with your chin held high as if their shady presence didn’t intimidate you. You argued with yourself as you approached that maybe you had jumped to a brash assumption and that they were in fact a harmless trio who would just let you pass without a second glance. As you got closer they rose from their makeshift perches and swayed towards you. It was then you knew that your brash assumption had been correct.

“Evening treacle.” One slurred. “What brings you down ‘ere then?” He smiled, revealing a row of yellow teeth that were gradually rotting a browny black. You ignored him and tried to pass but he obstructed you.

“Let me pass!” You ordered him.

“Now then, that’s not nice. You could at least ask nicely. Say please.” He slurred.

“Please let me pass.” You said through gritted teeth.

The other two came to stand beside him. Panicking, you tried hard to conceal the trembling of your body.

“Beg.” He tells you through a snarl.

“I love it when they beg.” One of the other men chimed in, earning a chortle from his soapy comrades.

You laugh as if joining in with their sadistic merriment. Then quick as a whippet you tried to barge through their burly blockade, effectively knocking one of the men into the drink. The middle one grabbed you. You turned as he did so, kneeing him between the legs. He dropped to the floor and you made to escape but was grabbed again by the last remaining man. His filthy hand covered your mouth, cutting you off mid scream. You thrashed in his arms. Your eyes widening as the man on the floor rose slowly.

“We’ve got a feisty one ‘ere, Del.”

“Let’s see how feisty she is once I’ve finished with ‘er.” The man you knocked to the floor was now fully upright, stalking towards you.

You closed your eyes, helplessly awaiting your fate.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off ‘er!”

Your eyes shot open at the unmistakable voice coming from behind you.

The man turned suddenly with you still in his arms. Your eyes landed on Alfie and Ollie and you wanted to cry out in relief.

“Mr Solomon’s - I was only helping the poor Lass. She was lost, ya see.” He muttered a sheepish reply. His arms loosening around you. You pushed away from him stricken and lurched into Alfie’s arms.

“Are you ok, Yahalom?” He asked, pushing away the hair from your face and checking you over for any sign of injury.

You noded, clinging to him.

“Run!” One of the men shouted and they both fled in opposite directions. The one who had hold of you tried to leg-it past Alfie who with a flick of his cane tripped him before he could get any further. Alfie pushed you to Ollie, and pounced on top of the fallen man. Savagely he landed a shocking set of bone crunching blows upon the sputtering and sobbing man on the floor.

You started to shake uncontrollably. Your chest heaving to draw in breaths.

“Alfie, stop now. You’re scaring ‘er!” Ollie yelled at Alfie who stopped immediately.

“Get ‘er out of ‘ere!” He shouted.

You felt Ollie tug on your arm.

“No-I c-can’t go-I need t-to talk to A-alfie.” You chattered numbly.

“It’s ok, Y/N. Let’s wait for him inside and you can talk to him then, yeah?” Ollie asked you soothingly. You stopped resisting, allowing him to guide you over the bridge of the canal and inside the huge double door entrance of the bakery. He set you down on a crate.

“Are you ok?” Ollie asked. Kneeling in front of you.

You shook your head from side to side, unable to speak through the loud chattering of your teeth.

“We were just leaving. You’re lucky we spotted you, ya know.”

You didn’t answer him. Instead you reached out and gave his hand a grateful squeeze.

Alfie exploded through the doors, making you and Ollie jump. His blood splattered face was a fit of pure rage.

“How many fucking times have I told you not to walk the canals on your own? If me and him would have left ‘ere half hour ago like we were supposed to, what would have happened then, ay?” His eyes flickered as he tortured himself pointlessly with the sickening possibilities.

“Alright, Alfie. Calm down, ay? We left at the right time and luckily Y/N weren’t hurt-“ Ollie started calmly before Alfie interrupted him.

“- You sure they didn’t hurt you?” Alfie asked.

“I’m sure.”

“The fuck was you thinking, Pet?” His stern voice was slightly softer now.

“I-I wasn’t-“

“-Where’s your coat?” He asked suddenly. “Them cunts take it?”

“No, I left it behind-there was n-no time- I had t-to get out of there fast-I left my coat behind along with my p-purse-I’ve had to walk from Central-thats why I t-took the sh-shortcut.” You stuttered senselessly, barely pausing to take a breath. Alfie took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. You pulled it tightly around yourself. His musky scent clung to the heavy wool material that was still warm with the heat of his body. You inhaled deeply, feeling instantly calmer. “I couldn’t stay there, Alfie. I had to leave, I had to get out of there!”

“Calm down, Yahalom, and tell me exactly what’s happened?” He ordered, his eyes wild.

“It’s Charles. He and Lu-ca Changretta are related. They’re cousins. I-I overheard them talking. They said something about money coming in from New York and taking over London. They’re going to take down everyone in their way - you, Tommy, even Sabini. Everything Tommy said is true and there’s nothing I can do about it. We have to warn Thomas.”

Alfie exchanged a look with Ollie.

“Did he know you were listening in on his conversation?” Ollie asked.

“No. But he’ll know I’m missing by now and maybe he’ll put two and two together. I told the housemaid to tell him I was visiting an ill friend but I’m not sure he’ll believe that.”

“Right then. Well, first things first.” Alfie put his arms around your shoulders and lifted you gently from where you rested. “I need to get you out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay here and help sort this.” You told him wilfully.

“You’ve done all you can, pet. Let me and Tommy deal with this now.”

“So all of this was for nothing? Me staying with Charles, weeks of misery and sneaking around. That was all for nothing?”

“This isn’t your fight, Y/N. It never was your fight.” Alfie sighed.

“They’re planning on killing you, Alfie - the father of my unborn baby. Tell me how that isn’t my fight?” You sobbed angrily.

He grabbed your shoulders, shaking you lightly.

“Look at me.” He said firmly. Your wide eyes rose to his. “I can handle it, right. What I can’t handle is the worry of anything happening to you. Which is why I’m getting you out of ‘ere, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. I’m taking you and that unborn baby of mine to safety. You ‘ear me? That’s our priority now, yeah?”

“...Yeah.” You whispered, knowing he was right.

“Come on.”

You held on to him as you walked, your weary feet stinging with every faltered step you took.

“You need me to carry you?” He asked.

You shook your head weakly.

The sun had now almost set but the brightness outside was still blinding as you emerged from the darkness of the distillery.

“Get in the car.” Alfie ordered.

You did as he said, sliding into the front passenger seat and trying to avoid looking across the canal where your attacker still lay, a lifeless crumpled, mess on the floor. You blocked it out and focused on Alfie through the windscreen instead. He was leant into Ollie, telling him something. Ollie gave him a contrite nod and handed him what looked like a set of keys. With a pat on the back, Alfie left him to climb in to the drivers seat. He started the engine.

“Isn’t Ollie coming with us?”

“Na. He’s got to sort a few things out for me.” He replied, shoving the shift stick into gear and pulling off. You watched him intently. An unsolicited heat crept over you as he manoeuvred the machine with a confident ease that you couldn’t help but find alluring.

“Where are we going?” You asked croakily.

“Let me worry about that, right. You look exhausted. Rest your head and I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Too weak to argue you did just that. Leaning your head against the window which was slick with condensation. The soft purr of the cars engine lulled you rapidly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

You were roused from your confined slumber by Alfie as he lifted you from the passenger seat into his arms. Your neck throbbed where you had laid awkwardly propped up against the window for God knows how long. You let the aching heaviness of your head rest against Alfies chest as he carried you. A whooshing noise echoed familiarly in the blustery background, intertwined with what sounded like crunching gravel beneath Alfie’s feet as he walked. Curiously your sluggish eyes peered at your surroundings. You could just about make out the silhouette of a building and an unusual looking tree against the dark blue of the night sky.

Exhausted, your head fell back onto Alfie’s chest and you buried your face in the crook of his neck to shield it from the tenacious chill of the night air. He came to a stop holding you tightly with one arm as the other searched his trouser pocket. A jingling of keys and the sound of the lock turning, then you were finally inside and out of the cold.

The smell of fresh paint and varnish filled your nostrils as he carried you over the foreign residence. After kicking the door closed with his foot, you felt him ascend a set of stairs in the darkness, effortlessly, as if he was already well acquainted with the steps. A door creaked open and then shortly after you were being lowered. You unfolded from him as he placed you on the soft cushioning of a mattress. Your head sunk into the fluffy pillows, your arms stretching across the width of the spacious bed. Your eyes opened when you realised Alfie wasn’t joining you.

“Don’t leave me.” You begged.

“Sssh.” He soothed softly. His heavy hand brushing back your hair from your face. “You’re safe now, Yahalom.”

Your eyes closed, his reassuring tone and tender touch settling you back to sleep.

You awoke with a start. Looking around the huge room that was now highlighted by an orange hue emanating from the fire that crackled and danced in the fireplace adjacent to the bed. The ceaseless whooshing you heard earlier broke in from a set of french doors to your left and you raised from the bed to investigate. Pulling back the floor length curtains that decorated them, you were shocked to see the mosaicked balcony and the beach landscape that it overlooked. At a glance it appeared that Alfie had stolen you away from the perilous situation in London and brought you to Margate - your safe haven. But what was this place? It wasn’t a B&B or a hotel because you remembered that Alfie had entered with a key - you assumed the same key Ollie had handed him before you left. You glanced around the room once more, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings causing you great unease. And it was quiet, too quiet. Where was Alfie?

You poked your nose out of the bedroom door and peeked down the length of the darkened hallway. A sliver of warm light shone from a partially open door of one of the rooms and cautiously you ambled towards it. You lingered outside, your nerves settling when you heard Alfie’s hushed tone beyond the wood.

“Did you get hold of the rabbi?”

There was a long pause before Alfie spoke again.

“I don’t care what fucking time it is just keep trying. I want him up ‘ere by the end of the week, before the fight... Yeah? Well make-fucking-sure.” You heard a crashing bang which you guessed was the receiver of the telephone being put down on whoever Alfie was talking to.

“Are you gonna stand out there all fucking night or you gonna come in?” He shouted out to you, causing you to smile.

You entered slowly, stalling in the doorway.

Alfie was sat at a desk, a much neater, more fancier desk than the one he usually occupied at the bakery.

“You alright?” He asked, watching you intently as you came to sit in front of him.

You nodded absentmindedly, too busy taking in the plush interior of the room.

“Did you speak to Tommy?” You asked eagerly, your eyes finally meeting his. He waited a moment before answering you.

“Na, I ain’t been able to get hold of him. I’ll try again in the morning...You sure you’re alright?”

“Where are we?” You queried, ignoring his question.

“Margate.”

“No, I mean here.” You pointed to where you were sat. “Whose house is this?”

“This is our house.” He said casually.

You look at him stunned. Your mouth agape.

“Our house?”

He nodded simply.

“W-when? How?” You stuttered, dumbfounded.

“I bought it a while back, after I saw you again at the Eden. It was in a bit of a two an’ eight when I bought it. Taken me an’ the boys a little while to do up.”

“I’m confused.” You shook your head. “You’ve bought a house in Margate? But we’re so far away from London, from your businesses. What about the bakery?”

“I’m retiring, Yahalom. I’ve sold up all the properties I own and I’ve handed the bakery down to Ollie. This was my plan all along. The only way I knew I could keep you safe.”

It took you a moment to process everything and still you were stunned speechless.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I thought this was what you wanted?” He cites.

“It was-“

Alfie narrowed his eyes at your use of past tense.

“-I mean is.” You corrected swiftly before carrying on “It’s just come as a bit of a shock is all.”

“Hmm.” He let out a suspicious grunt. “It’s not the best timing after the day you’ve had, I get that. But that was out of my control wern’it?”

You nodded solemnly. Still trying to wrap your head around everything.

“I thought you’d be happy, Yahalom?”

“I am.” You frowned.

“At least show it then. Crack a smile or summin. You’ve got a face like a slapped arse at the minute.” You heard a frustrated annoyance creep into the grimmess of his voice.

“I don’t know how I feel about it, if I’m being honest. The last few months have been a whirlwind for me. I haven’t slept properly in days, weeks even. Weary to the bone. Wracked with guilt and worry. I honestly don’t know wether I’m coming or going. And now you’re telling me that you’re selling up. Leaving behind everything you’ve worked so hard to build and for what?”

“For us!” He barked. “For us to be together without the worry of someone hurting you to hurt me. And yeah, I’ve worked hard, I’ve earn’t my money, however, it’s time for me to rest now and enjoy the fruits of my labour.”

“I’m not sure, Alf...” You hummed uneasily.

“What’s there to be unsure of?”

“I still ain’t sure this is what you really want!” You snapped frustratedly. “A quiet life by the sea, a child you never wanted...I just can’t see it.” You admitted sadly.

He exhaled harshly, rising from his desk and stepping round to extend a hand to you.

“Come with me. I wanna show you something.”

Reluctantly you took his offered hand and let him guide you back out into the hallway and along to a room that was situated next to the one you had been resting in earlier.

He opened the door and moved aside for you to enter.

The waxing moon shon brightly through the bare windows, lighting up the room with it’s spectacular lunar glow. You stepped through noticing immediately the cot that lay new and empty against the far wall, next to it was a matching chest of drawers and a rocking horse that looked like it had been plucked from a fairground carousel.

Your eyes shot to Alfie whose bear like frame was leant in the doorway studying your reaction.

“When did you do this?”

“A couple of days ago. The room needs a lick of paint but I thought you might wanna choose the colour.” He came to join you in the centre of the room.

“So you did all this before you come to see me? Before you were even certain that the baby yours?...Why?”

He was silent for a moment, deep in thought.

He shrugged. “I s’pose deep down I knew you were lying and that the baby was mine... or maybe I didn’t fucking care, I dunno... doing this...it just felt right.”

“But you said-“

“-I know what I said but saying don’t mean fuck all does it. Actions speak louder than words.” He motions to the room. “And this speaks fucking volumes, dunnit. I mean if this doesn’t prove to you that this is what I really want then I don’t know what will.”

Reassurance drifted over you as you looked once again around the unfinished nursery.

“Say something.” He requested quietly.

Wordlessly you rushed to him and threw your arms around his broad shoulders.

“You like it then? You’re happy?” He confirmed uncertainly.

“I do. I am. It’s...wonderful! Thank you!” You choked a reply, your voice struggling past the forming lump in your throat.

He pulled you closer, his shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been lifted off them.

“You want me to show you round the rest of the house?” He whispered gruffly into your hair.

“Not tonight. Show me tomorrow in the daylight so I can properly take in the beauty of it all.”

“Alright. Well, what shall we do now then?” You were sure you heard a seductive undertone in his question and took full advantage.

“Take me to our bed.”

“You ain’t gotta ask me twice.” He said. His eyes lighting up at your words.

You squealed when he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the next room.

“Cor blimey. You’ve got heavier already.” He huffs.

“Oh give over, I ain’t even showing properly yet. You’re just getting weaker with age, old man.” You teased him.

“Oi! I’ll have you know that there’s nothing wrong with my stamina and I will gladly prove that to you in a minute.” He threatened hotly. Sending your pulse racing. “There’s just one more thing I’ve got to do first.”

He set you down carefully on your own two feet.

“Can’t it wait?” You whined as he stepped away from you and headed towards the door.

“It won’t take me a minute.” He assured you.

You stood in the middle of the once unfamiliar room that you now knew was yours and Alfies. Sighing happily, you glided to the french doors and tried the handle. They opened willingly under your touch. The chill of the night air was refreshing as you stepped out on to the balcony. Leaning on the stone balaustrade, you observed the unrelenting waves that stretched the distance, relishing in the peacefulness of their crashing melody. Nothing could ruin this moment, not even the ugliness of the Changretta situation. All that mattered right now was your future with Alfie, a future that this morning never even existed.

“Yahalom?” Alfie called, having returned.

You spun to look at him. He marched skittishly towards you, his hands behind his back, as he joined you on the balcony.

“I know I’ve asked you this before but as you so poignantly pointed out to me the other day, it’s a proposal that has since expired. So, I’m gonna ask you again... Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?” He asked gruffly, his eyes so intense you thought they could set you on fire. You gasped unexpectedly. Although it was the second time he had asked you, it was the first time you had heard him say those words aloud.

“Oh, Alfie. Of course I’ll marry you.”

“Thank fuck for that. Here then.” He produced a ring that was hidden in his clenched fist behind his back. Grabbing your hand he slipped it on your finger. You stared down at it in awe. A ruby once again burned brightly on your finger but it wasn’t the one you were used to. You frowned down at the foreignness of the rings delicate beauty and the circle of winking diamonds that surrounded the red gem like a halo.

“I searched high and low for the other one in the bakery but couldn’t find it. So I bought you another one. D’you like it?”

“It’s beautiful... I was just expecting to see the old one.” You replied, your heart sinking at the thought of your first engagement ring being lost forever. It was only supposed to be a temporary ring, taken from Alfie’s pinky finger until he had gotten you a proper one. There wasn’t much to it just a thick gold band with a faceted ruby so red it was hypnotising. Back then you had persuaded Alfie not to buy a replacement, that you wanted to keep his one as every time you looked at it it reminded you of him. Now, thanks to yourself you’ll never see it again.

“That’s old hat now that one though, innit? a token of who we used to be. We’ve been through a lot of shit, right, shit I wanna leave in the past. I want us to have a fresh start, a clean slate, and this house and this ring is where it begins.”

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Tag list: @storm-bjorn @alsheyra @lililolli @jaegers-and-kaijus @lightwoodt @stars-trash-18 @anrm1 @innerpaperexpertcloud @alitheamateur @hardygal69

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #by order of the peaky blinders

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prettywordsyouleft · 3 years

Text

To Be Continued - Part 3

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

Word count: 2288

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

“I know it seems ridiculous,” you stated as you led the constable to your home office, pointing at your desk where both the pen and message waited for him to inspect. “However, I didn’t hear a thing and yet this is all here.”

Sungjin quietly investigated the space, looking to the window and then went over to jiggle the catch. He stepped all around the room, searching for clues, his hand rising to his mouth to cover it as he processed his thoughts.

And then he turned to you. “I don’t really know what to say. This makes no sense.”

“I feel like I’m going insane!” you admitted emotionally, dropping to a crouch and holding onto your legs. “How could someone get in and out without my knowledge whilst everything is still locked?!”

When you glanced up at Sungjin, who came to your side, you noticed the look of scepticism within his eyes. There was nothing factual aside from the second fingerprints, which in your mind, was enough to convince you that someone else had been here. For a moment, the trained professional looked at you and assessed something before smiling gently. You realised then Sungjin was questioning your well-being.

Standing up suddenly, you took a step back from his proximity and looked out the window. “I might have proclaimed just now about feeling as if I’m going insane, but I can assure you, Constable Park, that I’m not already insane.”

“I know,” he answered, trying to catch your attention. When he gained it, he nodded genuinely. “I’m sorry, my brief thought was too brash.”

“I can understand why,” you breathed out with a sigh, shaking your head. “It would be easy enough to plant such evidence, right? I’ve watched enough spy movies and read enough novels to know that it’s relatively simple enough to obtain someone’s fingerprint.”

“Yes, but I believe you haven’t done this on purpose either, Y/N.”

There was comfort in the way he spoke your name and you nodded softly, tears spilling down your cheeks. Sungjin stepped into your space again, patting your shoulder gently. “What do I do?”

“We need to catch the person in the act,” Sungjin suggested and you stared at him curiously. “Have you tried messaging the person back?”

“No… I mean, how does that work? It’s not a social app they’re writing on but Microsoft Word. Even with a cloud sharing system, it would show me that another user is signed in.”

Sungjin shrugged. “Still. Worth a shot, don’t you think?”

“Do I try it now?” you asked and Sungjin shook his head.

“Nothing will happen with me here,” he guessed and you sighed, defeated. You kind of liked that nothing would happen with Sungjin here. But he had a job to do and you did want to solve this issue too.

If it was simply a fan, you would thank them for nursing you back to health that night and ask them to stop this. That seemed simple enough to request. Surely, if they cared that much about you, they would comply.

You didn’t want to consider that their fan status was anything more than just that. Once again, movies and books you had perused with obsessive stalkers cropped up and you shuddered.

Sungjin noticed and rubbed at your shoulders to relax you. “You’re going to be okay. You have my number and I’ll make sure to check in on your regularly too. Let me know if anything happens with the messages, okay?”

“I will.” Leading the constable back out to the front door, he turned and rubbed at his wrist.

“Did you need a lift to get your groceries?”

“Is that allowed in a police vehicle?” you wondered and Sungjin grinned.

“I could write it off as protection services.”

“I’m touched, really,” you responded, trying to rein in the smile you knew was splitting your lips all too obviously.

Sungjin nodded and chuckled back. “Knowing you would take the offer if my car wasn’t government-funded is all I need, Y/N.”

“You best get back to patrolling the streets for proper crime,” you suggested and he nodded. You then laughed. “And I have a date with the fruit and vegetable section to help improve my immunity after dealing with this cold.”

“Take it easy. First dates can be hard to deal with.”

You grinned. “I will. And if I’m in trouble from it, I’ll know who to ring.”

You could tell Sungjin wasn’t usually one for this type of banter, and despite his ears turning red, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Which was no doubt why he was reluctant to step off your front porch right now.

However, he finally did so with another wave and you stepped back inside, locking the door before going to write out your list. It felt weird to use the pen that reappeared so you put it away before reaching for another and jotted down the groceries you needed.

“Have you tried messaging the person back?”

Sungjin’s suggestion lingered in your mind as you prepared to stand and fetch your bag. Relenting, you looked at the screen and inhaled a deep breath before you began to type.

Thank you for returning the pen. And for helping me with my illness.

It felt odd to type anything more and you shook your head to loosen off the feeling, getting to your feet and taking the list out with you.

The words you had written then disappeared without your knowledge, reaching the person they were intended for.

You had almost forgotten all about the incident that led to the constable ending up in your house again today, but the interaction by your front door had replayed so much in your mind that you were too giddy to focus on anything else. As you put away your groceries, you contemplated what Sungjin was like to go grocery shopping with.

It was juvenile. You felt like you were back in high school crushing on a student you liked. You entertained the idea, all the same, slipping further into more domestic actions, swooning over your hypothetical relationship with the man.

You were destined to be a writer. You were far too much of a dreamer for any other profession.

By the time you had eaten a late lunch, you had already jotted down on your phone’s notes app more information to add to your police officer document once back at your desk. You did some house chores before stepping back in there, and before you could even sit down, there was a knock at your door.

It wasn’t Sungjin, however, but your mother, armed with an arsenal to help your illness improve.

You grinned even though you whined out loud. “Mum, I’m basically over it now.”

“You had me worried sick about you. Especially when you mentioned someone broke in!”

Taking what she held and helping the woman inside, you shook your head. “Well, there’s no evidence that’s solid enough to say someone broke in.”

“Should I stay with you tonight?”

“Why tonight when I was more frightened last night?” you asked with a teasing tone and the older woman swatted at you in distaste.

“I’m your mother! I’m allowed to be worried.”

“I’ll be fine! I’ll have the doors all locked, and my favourite police officer’s number saved into my phone. Besides, I’ll no doubt spend my night writing and-”

“Forget I’m even here. Yes, I know how you get when you step out of reality, Y/N.”

You grinned again at her understanding and then were gathered up in a hug. “At least let me cook you dinner. I’ll leave before it gets too late for your creative juices to start rolling out.”

“You’re the best, you know that?”

“Of course I do. I have to be the best to be your Mum!”

After watching two feel-good movies from your childhood and your mother had fed you your favourite dish for dinner before wrapping the night up with fussing over you sufficiently, she headed back home and left you to your own devices.

So it surprised you to finally sit back down after hours away from your laptop to find the screen still active.

Peering closely at it, you blinked slowly at your message or lack of it. Where had it gone? You knew you written the two sentences and pressed enter.

Just as you were about to close the document, your eyes rounded with shock as words began to appear on the screen before you.

“I’m going insane after all,” you said jarringly, reading the sentence as it was typed.

I hope you will stop fearing me and calling that police officer. I’m really not that scary. You know me.

Instead of reaching for your phone, you felt compelled to reply.

Do I?

Again words started to appear before you. Of course. You know me better than I probably do.

How?

You created me.

“Maybe I’ve had too much coffee,” you tried to rationalise but it didn’t make any sense. Looking around yourself to see if someone was remotely plugged in somehow to your laptop, you even searched the connection settings before coming up blank.

So you challenged the writer of the messages.

If I know you and created you – which sounds absolutely absurd by the way – why won’t you show yourself?

You laughed when there was no immediate response and hovered the mouse pointer over the exit button to Microsoft Word, intending to then power off the device. The screen flickered then and you looked back at to see new words forming.

Don’t turn off the laptop.

“What would that have anything to do with this?” you murmured, feeling exasperated from chatting with some strange person within a word document in the first place.

More words appeared. Because the world you created was made on this.

“Okay, it’s getting too late for me now. I’m going to save this document and-”

The screen went blank and you sat back in your chair then, watching it to see what would happen next. Nothing did and you hit the power button on and off, laughing at the predicament. “My battery must have died. Great.”

Searching on the desk for the power cord, you plugged it in and the machine brightened up instantly, blinding you a little with the sudden change.

And then it opened Captivated again.

You watched as the story scrolled down at an unbelievably fast rate, reaching the bottom of the manuscript where you had changed the words back to The End for the third time. They disappeared and were replaced with To Be Continued once more, infuriating you.

“Leave my work alone! This is an intrusion on my intellectual property! You have no right interfering with--”

You weren’t sure if you were hallucinating or not. You weren’t even sure how it happened. One moment, whilst you were ranting to whoever may be listening in about your rights, you were all alone.

The next, a man was leaning against your desktop beside you.

“What the… how did you get in here?!” you cried, not looking up at him properly, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone.

“I really don’t think you need to call for him. But if it makes you feel safer, by all means, ring your hero.”

His voice, although you had never heard it before, felt familiar, as if you had imagined that’s how someone would sound. You glanced at his hand resting on the table beside you, wondering why it looked as if you had written about this hand so often it almost felt intimate. Following your gaze up his arm, you ran your focus along his shoulder and up to his face, hearing your phone clatter to the floor beside you.

As you looked intensely into his warm brown eyes that watched you back, and then took in the sharp slant of his nose that was definitely a characteristic point, before finally moving to his lips, you knew exactly who you were staring back at.

Brian Kang.

He grinned, scrunching up his nose a little in the process and it made you gasp. This seemed to please the man. “Well, I guess it works on more than just Charli Evers, huh?”

“You’re… wait… how can you… I mean, this is exactly how I pictured you but… it’s impossible.”

Brian nodded, glancing back at your laptop and tapped on the screen. “I guess it would seem like that to you since my world is created from your imagination.”

“Sungjin’s right, I’ve gone mad.”

“Darling, you’ve been mad for some time but I wouldn’t go thinking this is a hallucination.”

“You’re not real.”

“Well, I guess I’m not meant to be real. I’m not really sure how I figured this all out either. I’m still learning about the outside world so forgive me for scaring you with all this.”

“The outside world?” you repeated incredulously, grasping your head as you felt faint. “Why am I talking to my imagination?! This is an all-time low for me; even I have to admit it.”

“Y/N,” Brian stated, capturing your attention once again. His expression was resolute. You knew without him saying anything else that he believed in what he was about to say wholly. “Whilst you are my maker, I do exist. I’m real.”

“I bet I can’t even touch--” A whimper left you then as he reached out to take a hold of your wrist with the same hand you had inspected. And then he slipped it down so he was holding yours, marvelling at the connection.

And like any normal, logical person who just met their creation in the flesh, you completely blacked out from the experience.

_________________

Part 4

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#kwritersworldnet #young k #young k fiction #young k fanfic #young k fluff #young k romance #young k au #day6 #day6 fiction #day6 fanfic #day6 fluff #day6 romance #day6 au #pwyl; to be continued #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop romance

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1doll-4u · 4 years

Text

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 — 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bakugou x fem! reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4,835

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: fluff

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: Hi! Love your writing! I was wondering if I could request a one shot about Bakugo and female reader? Where they’ve been dating for a while and they decide to tell the rest of the class (or someone finds them kissing?). *fluff* Thats all! You don’t have to of course.. I’ve never actually requested anything from anyone before <:3. Have a nice day (night?)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: bakugou and you have been dating for a few months but haven’t told the others. some of bakugou’s idiot, ‘friends’ finds the two of you at an amusement park and takes a few pictures to send to the group chat..

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cussing, a lot of fluff, horrible writing

𝐊𝐄𝐘:

꒰ 🌱 ꒱ - flashback

𝐀/𝐍: lowercase intended + this is so long- i was dying while writing this, the struggle do be real (´；ω；`)

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄 | 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈 | 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀 — 𝐌. 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“watch where you’re going, brat.” bakugou pulls you closer to him by the waist, narrowly bumping into a stranger.

“i’m sorry, it’s kind of difficult with this giant bear in my hands.” you emphasize your point by thrusting the teddy bear in bakugou’s face.

bakugou scoffs and pushes the oversized plushie back, “if you don’t like it then just get rid of it.”

internally bakugou doesn’t want you to throw it away. he won it for you by playing one of those dumb booth games. at first he was against playing it but seeing how much you wanted that black teddy bear, he gave in.

in the end it was worth it because he got to see that look of pure admiration from you. he would never admit it, but it made his ego swell.

the worker who ran the game booth wasn’t so happy that bakugou completely wrecked one of the character stands. out of compensation, bakugou paid for the damage. (you convinced him to after a bit of arguing).

“no, i do like it, it’s just hard to hold..” you struggle to lift the teddy bear that is practically your size, higher so it doesn’t touch the ground. bakugou looks on, amused by your little problem.

“then give it to me, i don’t want to hear you complaining for another hour,” bakugou grumbles, opening his arms for the teddy bear. you give it to him and he slings it over his back like a backpack.

“don’t be so rough with mr. snuffles,” you chide, giving bakugou a light smack in the forearm.

“mr. snuffles? that’s a stupid name.” bakugou comments, clearly unaffected by your weak blow.

you pout at his remark and look away playfully. in your relationship you like to mess with bakugou. acting like a brat and not giving him any attention can make him surrender to you in mostly any situation.

bakugou sees this and groans quietly, “are we really doing this now?” bakugou’s shoulders slump when you don’t respond or even look at him.

part of him finds your little grumpy face to be adorable. it reminds him of a little spoiled child. (which you basically are when you are with him). your brows are slightly furrowed and your puffed out cheeks are tinted with a natural blush. you look like a mildly irritated chipmunk.

bakugou stops himself from smiling at his own thought and looks away from you. he knows what he has to do to gain your attention again.

“i’m sorry..” bakugou mumbles out. you barely catch onto it through all the bustling from others around the both of you.

“hm? what was that?” you urge him on, still looking away.

“i’m sorry, okay? mr. snuffles..isn’t a stupid name,” bakugou repeats his apology. it was almost painful for him to say the last part.

you take a glance at him and hold back a giggle. he looks so cute with his usual grouchy looking face. his face has a faint pink hue, barely visible by all the neon lights surrounding the two of you, and his eyes are focused forward.

the contrast between his muscular build and the giant fluffy teddy bear is quite endearing in a way. you would never think someone like bakugou would have such a cutesy plushie.

“mr. snuffles and i will accept your apology, but..” you trail off and advert your eyes for a second to add a dramatic effect, “you need to take a picture with us to really receive it.”

bakugou lets out a sigh, not even hiding it at this point, “fine, but only one picture.”

it took you a moment to really process what he said. the bakugou katsuki just allowed you to take a picture of him without any protest. are you dreaming?

excited now, the both of you settle in a spot where it’s less crowded and take the picture- or well pictures. yes, bakugou did say only one but you couldn’t help it. you want to capture this moment and look back at the pictures.

this is one out of many dates you’ve had with bakugou in the two months that you’ve been together. it is hard for him to make some time for you but he always manages to do it.

sense he attends u.a. he can only meet up with you on the weekends. sometimes he visits you after a school day if he isn’t training or busy. you know his schedule is pretty pact so you never complain about not spending every second with him. he wants to become a strong hero which is something you respect.

his dedication to becoming a hero and being a good boyfriend are both very high. you don’t attend any hero school because you personally don’t think you are cut out for it. being in the spotlight and working under pressure is something you just aren’t comfortable with.

you plan on simply living a normal life, graduating high school, continuing to work at your family owned florist shop, and maybe even partaking in an art related career. drawing isn’t something you think you are particularly good at but you would still like to try it out.

your quirk isn’t anything special. any emotion you feel can be shared with others. a sort of, ‘aura’ surrounds your body and the color depends on your mood. if you’re sad, others around you will feel sad too.

it surprises you how far you’ve both grown from the first time you met up till now. bakugou met you in your little florist shop.

꒰ 🌱 ꒱

he walks into the shop, looking somewhat paranoid as he observes all the flowers.

you stand behind the counter and busy yourself by arranging flowers that don’t need to be arranged. when you first lay eyes on bakugou you find his presence to be..odd. he looks brash and rough, someone that wouldn’t be shopping for flowers.

then again there are different types of people. you shouldn’t judge their personality by their looks. he is good looking and looks about your age. you wonder if a girl broke his hard exterior and made that scowl turn into a sweet smile. that could be why he’s here. finding a beautiful bouquet just for a little lover.

bakugou continues to look around, it becoming apparent that he’s having a mini dilemma. he doesn’t want to ask you for advice but he honestly doesn’t know what flowers to choose. stalling for a few more minutes, he finally brings up the energy to walk up to you.

“may i help you?” you stop organizing the flower displays and fully turn your attention to the ash blonde.

“can you..help me choose,” bakugou asks, almost reluctantly. his voice is raspy and low but it suits him.

“of course, what is the occasion for? a lover perhaps?” you surmise, eyeing a cute gift bag in one of his hands. it was see through so you could make out a heart shaped package inside. maybe chocolates?

the blonde suppresses a gag at your words and the heat creeping up his cheeks. he roughly corrects you, “no, it’s for..something else.”

you don’t believe him but urge him to be more specific, “and what is this, ‘something else’ ?”

bakugou shifts in his spot, his face only growing warmer. he doesn’t want to admit why he’s here, in a damn flower shop but what else can he do? he shouldn’t have come in the first place..

“..it’s for my mother’s birthday.” bakugou finally spits out. instead of looking away like he wanted to, he stares straight at you with glaring red eyes, daring you to laugh at him.

you didn’t expect that answer. who knew someone like him would be a mommy’s boy? quit judging people (y/n), it’s not nice.

“what’s your mother’s favorite color? would she like a big bouquet or a small one?”

“how am i supposed to know that??”

now bakugou really wishes he hadn’t come to this stupid shop. he only came because he knew it was a small shop where he probably won’t be spotted by any of his crappy classmates from school. it had great reviews online and looked good enough of a place to come. he didn’t know he’d need to know stuff like his mother’s favorite color to pick simple flowers.

“aren’t you close with your mother? isn’t that why you are giving her a gift?”

the blonde silently fumes at your questions, irritated that you aren’t just suggesting some flowers that he can buy and get the hell out of the shop faster.

“that’s none of your business, now are you going to help or not??” bakugou’s voice increases in volume. he looks quite red in the face from his growing impatience.

“well, it would help if you knew some of her preferences,” you look away from him and lightly brush your fingers over some flower petals near you, “and to think i thought you were a momma’s boy.”

you know teasing costumers is highly inappropriate but you can’t help yourself. the boy just looks so cute when he’s mad.

“huh? what the hell did you call me??” bakugou’s voice booms in the small shop. his face a bright red after being riled up. who do you think you are calling him a momma’s boy?

you crack a smile at the angry boy and continue on talking, “maybe we should focus on meanings..what kind of message would you like to give through flowers?”

“how about, ‘you are annoying and should stop being a hag.’” bakugou sarcastically says, following up with a dry smile.

you give a disapproving look and tsk, “that isn’t very nice to say about your mother..but maybe pink lilies? they symbolize prosperity and abundance.” you point to the bouquets of lilies.

he takes a look but shakes his head, “no, they’re ugly.”

“how about snapdragons? they signify strength and graciousness.”

“no, those are ugly too.”

“then what flowers do you find not ugly? you aren’t exactly giving me any sort of information to help you.” you let some tone slip through to really show that you are serious. this boy truly is an enigma. first he gives you nothing to hang on to and now he’s being picky?

“something..that doesn’t make a lot of mess.” bakugou isn’t sure what he’s really looking for. he has no clue about flowers. the only reason he even decided to get them was because his mother would probably talk his ears off for not getting any for her.

“hmm, what is your mother like? like what is her personality? is she calm? kind?”

“she’s loud and irritating.”

“pink hydrangeas are out of the way because they could be messy..what do you think of pink tulips? they don’t have many petals and are very pretty. they express happiness and confidence. if she’s anything like you, this could be a good message.” you gesture to the flowers you mention.

“what do you mean, ‘if she’s anything like me?’” bakugou is taken aback by your backhanded..compliment? he isn’t even sure what that was. you have some bite in you for a girl that looks fairly nice on the outside.

“you have a very confident..aura, i’m not sure how to explain it. i think it’s part of my quirk but i’m not sure.”

now that piqued his interest a bit. what would your quirk be? and why is my face getting warm?? probably something weak sense you don’t seem like the type to attend a hero school. then again..deku didn’t seem like the type either. bakugou stops his train of thought from spiraling down further. he doesn’t need to know useless stuff like that. he’s only here for one thing and that’s shitty flowers.

he studies the flowers and makes his decision. “these are fine..”

you nod and prepare the bouquet slowly. to be honest, work has been going slow and it’s rare for a cute boy your age to come by. old people and young couples usually come by every few hours.

bakugou, although a little irritating, is enjoyable to be around. (and tease). you really don’t want him to go and let you suffer another few hours of loneliness.

once the bouquet is done you give it to him after he pays for it.

“it was really nice meeting you even if you did give me some trouble, momma’s boy. happy birthday to your mother,” you grin, teasing him once more.

“..stop calling me that, my name is bakugou, flower girl.” bakugou doesn’t know why your smile makes him feel strange or why he even told you his name but it doesn’t matter now. he won’t ever see you and your dumb face again.

꒰ 🌱 ꒱

for some reason bakugou just couldn’t get you out of his head after that.

when he returned home and thrusted his gifts in his mother’s face, his mother was surprised by the gesture and even started to tear up. it was awkward..especially the part where she trapped him in a death hug.

she placed the bouquet in a clear vase with some water in the living room. whenever bakugou walks passed it he remembers you. what’s so special about you? you don’t have a flashy quirk, you don’t look like you go to u.a. or any other hero school..

you’re pretty, have a nice voice, and a good sense of humor. (at least he thinks so from the short interaction). you don’t act like a total pushover and stood up when he was annoying you. wait, why am i thinking about this??

bakugou visited your flower shop two days after that. he made excuses to come by and bought flowers when he didn’t need to. his mother grew curious at bakugou’s sudden interest in flowers so she questioned him like any mother would.

that ended with his mother having a suspicion that her own son has a secret lover. she was thrilled by the possibility and urged her son to invite her over one day. (bakugou scoffed at the idea but on the inside his heart was pounding).

he did end up spending more time with you and going on official dates. the differences between the both of you are what keeps you two inseparable.

a few feet from the two of you stood three idiots.

“that is bakugou!”

“then who’s the girl??”

“it looks like his girlfriend.”

kaminari zooms in on bakugou and you with his phone, taking a few pictures when the two of you stop walking. he looks back at them with kirishima and sero.

“she’s pretty cute,” kaminari comments, looking at the pictures closer.

“dude, you shouldn’t say that! she’s bakugou’s,” kirishima scowls, hitting the blonde upside the head.

“ow! i’m sorry, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

“...”

“yeah.”

“to be honest, i would never expect bakugou to have a girlfriend, let alone a girl like that.” sero says, pointing at you in the picture to emphasis his point.

“yeah, she does look really soft, in a good way.” kirishima agrees.

“that sounds creepy..” the raven haired boy gives kirishima a disgusted face. kirishima’s eyes widen after registering his words.

“no! i-i didn’t mean it that way, i swear!” the red haired boy waves his hands frantically in front of him as if that could help ward off his odd words.

“we should tell the others in the group chat! they have to know about this!” kaminari swipes his phone from the other two and texts the group chat.

“wait! but isn’t bakugou going to get mad? i don’t think it’s a good idea..” kirishima tries to pull the phone away from kaminari but kaminari keeps dodging him.

“no, he won’t be if we just keep it a secret. everything will be fine.” kaminari waves him off and sends the pictures as proof.

“i don’t know about this..” sero rubs the back of his neck nervously, practically feeling all the bad things that will unfold from this.

the next day bakugou enters his homeroom and notices something is off. everyone quiets down and stares at him as if he’s some sort of alien. what the fuck?

he glares back at them and they back off, continuing their chatter from before but more hushed.

“hey, bakubro, do you wanna hangout after school? maybe we can practice training together again. it’s been awhile,” kirishima inquires subtly as he walks up to the blonde’s desk.

“no, i have shit to do. train by yourself, i’ll just keep beating your ass like before and you’ll barely improve.” bakugou brushes him off dismissively.

“aww! come onnn, bro. i’ll be sure to show more progress. i have gotten better at my blocks and reflexes.” the red head whines and places his hand on bakugou��s shoulder, leaning down to be eye level with bakugou’s sitting form.

bakugou jerks his body away from kirishima and lets out an annoyed growl. “can you shut up?? i said, i don’t want to. i have things to do.”

kirishima backs off, facing his palms forward in surrender, “alright, alright, i’m sorry man.”

test one, complete. bakugou usually is up to training with kirishima but nowadays he has been putting them off or not even mentioning training with him. kirishima never thought much of it until now. it would make sense if bakugou has been spending his time after school with his girl. then again, he could just be doing something else important after school..

hero basic training class comes around and everyone has to change in the locker room.

“do you guys smell that?” mineta looks around, sniffing the air.

“smell what? sweat?” sero continues to change into his uniform, paying the short boy little attention.

“no, no. it..smells like perfume, girl perfume.” he wanders around the locker room and starts to sniff things like a bloodhound. the others besides bakugou look on with judgement.

mineta walks up to bakugou and sniffs his uniform he’s still wearing without thinking, rubbing his nose on it once he takes a good whiff.

“what the fuck are you doing?? get the hell off of me, midget!” bakugou pushes the short boy away from him, seething with rage.

“that perfume..it’s, ‘midnight love’ miss midnight’s own perfume! you use it too bakugou?” mineta doesn’t bother trying to sit up, too dazed by the smell of his favorite perfume.

“i don’t wear that crap. some shitty girl sprayed it everywhere in the halls and it got on me, okay??” bakugou carries on with changing into his costume more aggressively, avoiding everyone.

this wasn’t one of the tests but it still works. the perfume on bakugou could be his girlfriend’s. he does seem more aggressive and defensive than usual too.

“you aren’t eating school lunch? that’s new,” kirishima comments, eyeing the black bento in front of bakugou.

bakugou ignores him and opens his bento, disregarding the lid next to him. just as he’s about to dig into his food, kaminari speaks.

“hey, what’s this?” the sparky blonde picks the lid up and turns it around so the inside faces him. there was a note taped on it and written in pink marker.

‘i hope you enjoy it ~╰(*´︶`*)╯♡’

“your mother is caring, making you delicious looking food for lunch.” kirishima observes bakugou’s reaction to his words closely.

the short tempered blonde takes the lid back and turns it so the note isn’t visible anymore. “don’t touch my stuff and can you guys let me eat for a fucking second??”

test number..two? three? successful. bakugou’s mom doesn’t seem like the type to make bakugou food, otherwise she would have done that at the beginning of the school year. this must be bakugou’s girl’s doing.

after spending some time with you, bakugou returns to the dorm. in his head he prays that he can hide in his room without anyone stopping him but luck is not on his side.

“hey, bakugou! you are finally- wait, is that a flower in your hair?” kaminari points at the flower with a slight smirk on his face.

“oohhh, does bakugou have a girlfriend or something?” mina gushes, smiling brightly.

“bakugou having a girlfriend? that doesn’t sound realistic.” tsuyu bluntly states.

“if bakugou does have a..girlfriend then she must be just as short tempered as him.” todoroki (surprisingly) adds.

bakugou pulls the flower from his hair and crushes it in his clenched fist. “can you guys shut the fuck up? what’s with you all? why are you guys fucking ganging up on me? you’ve all been acting so damn weird since the beginning of the day.” bakugou snaps, done with everyone’s relentless teasing.

everyone shuts up and flinches at bakugou’s scalding temper. kirishima slowly raises his hand, stopping himself from shrinking back when bakugou’s vermillion eyes focus on him.

“uh..explain. ‘ganging up’ ?”

bakugou lets out an animalistic snarl, ready to pounce on the red head.

“ah- okay..w-we, kaminari, sero, and i may have been at the amusement park yesterday and spotted you with a..girl.” kirishima quickly explains, holding his hands up in front of him to block any potential attacks his way.

“a-and you can’t deny it because we have pictures for proof..” kaminari pulls out his phone and clumsily shows bakugou the photos he took without consent.

“you guys took fucking pictures?? delete them, now.” the fuming blonde takes a step closer to kaminari, swiping his hand up to try and snatch the phone away.

kaminari lets out a girly shriek, squirming away from him and using sero’s lanky form as a shield.

“k-kacchan, please calm down, we are v-very sorry for-“

“shut your damn mouth, deku. don’t tell me to calm down. you guys were fucking nosy and took pictures of us. whether i have a girlfriend or not is none of your business.” bakugou yells, storming out of the living room afterwards.

as soon as bakugou enters his room he slams the door shut roughly and falls onto his bed face first.

“stupid fucking, extras..” the angered boy breathes out, still all riled up. he takes one of his pillows and presses it up to his face to stifle the screams he let out.

how dare they? taking fucking pictures of us..(y/n) isn’t going to be happy about this. fuck.

sitting up, he throws the pillow to the side and takes his phone out, scrolling through his contacts until he gets to yours. his thumb lingers above your name briefly before pressing it.

bakugou shifts on his bed so he can sit with his legs crossed, waiting anxiously as his phone rings. his face looks so red and his hair looks unkempt in the camera. he really does look like a mess.

the ringing stops, somehow making bakugou’s heart speed up faster.

“suki? are you okay? what’s wrong?”

hearing that familiar nickname you gave him soothes him significantly. just hearing your voice and seeing you again calms him. of course you’d know something is up just by a first glance.

“no..”

“come on, you look like you just fought with a bear. i know that face too, you can’t lie to me.”

“i don’t look that bad.” bakugou pushes his hair back from his eyes with one hand and huffs.

“sure, sweetie.” you give him a mock smile, soaking in his disheveled look. he still looks attractive even if his skin matches a tomato right now.

the corner of bakugou’s lips quirk but he quickly drops it at remembering the reason to why he even called you in the first place.

“i need to tell you something..”

“hm? what is it?”

“i..they know. i’m sorry.” bakugou murmurs.

“what do you mean?” you look at bakugou with concern. it’s rare for bakugou to ever apologize so this must be serious.

“my dumbass classmates saw us during our date yesterday and took pictures. now they all know and will probably bug me to meet you..” bakugou’s chest constricts with guilt when he can practically feel your growing anxiety through the screen.

you mull over his words before speaking, “..it’s okay, maybe i should meet them. we’ve been together for a few months now. it’s better if we just get this over with than wait for who knows how long until i think i’m ready.”

“are you sure? you don’t need to do shit if you still aren’t ready to meet them.” bakugou didn’t expect this. during your relationship bakugou learned that you have an aversion to socializing with big groups of people. so you two settled with an agreement that you don’t have to meet any of his friends until you were ready.

“i..think i’ll be okay. i’m sure.”

bakugou and you made up a plan on when you should meet them and the place. the both of you settled with meeting them tomorrow after school at a big mall.

“i’ll see you then, goodnight, suki, love you.” you pucker you’re lips at him, bakugou’s face flares up at your gesture and words.

“night, love you too, brat.”

bakugou stays in his room for a little while, his anger finally leaving his body. he sort of regrets organizing a meet up because he’s afraid that his classmates will scare you away. (how ironic..).

he leaves his room to walk towards the living area. he could hear the others arguing in not so hushed voices just behind the corner.

“this is all your fault kami, i told you it was a bad idea!”

“shut it! you still went along with poking him during the day!”

“i feel like bakugou wouldn’t have snapped if todoroki hadn’t said anything..”

“i didn’t say anything wrong though?”

“you guys are shitty at whispering.”

everyone stops talking at the sound of bakugou’s voice. it took only a second for them to unfreeze and apologize profusely to him. (besides some..).

“ahh, bakugou, we’re really sorry for invading your privacy! we won’t do it again, we promise!” kirishima kneels on the floor in front of bakugou, his hands forming a prayer.

“i deleted the photos, please don’t kill me in my sleep!” kaminari joins kirishima, crying comically large tears.

“please forgive us, i told kaminari it wasn’t a good idea but-“

“can you guys quit being fucking wimps??” bakugou hits kirishima and kaminari on the top of their heads, causing the two to groan in pain. “she would like to meet you all tomorrow after school. i’ll send the location on where we all are meeting up. you guys better not be fucking late.”

there is a variety of reactions. some are ecstatic, others are neutral, and a few are indifferent.

“wait, really?? i can’t wait to meet her!” mina cheers with toru, uraraka, and the other girls.

“this is surprising..but i’ll take it! i bet she’ll look even cuter up close!” kaminari exclaims, smiling nervously when bakugou glowers at him. “o-of course i won’t do anything! she’s all yours.”

“is she really a babe? now i really gotta see her in person!” mineta drools at the scenarios in his head, swooning.

“don’t even think about pulling anything you damn dwarf. before you guys meet her you all need to follow this one rule. don’t act like shit heads. i don’t want you all scaring her away with your stupidity.” bakugou warns them.

“we promise to not scare her away!”

“how do you feel?”

“i’m a little nervous..” you admit, fiddling with your poofy sleeves.

“i can tell, your aura is grey.” bakugou rubs your forearm and pulls you closer to him by the arm he has slung around your shoulders.

you look down at your hands and notice that he’s right. sometimes when you feel a strong emotion you can’t stop yourself from activating your quirk.

“we can ditch them if you still aren’t ready.” bakugou suggests, a despicable smile grows on his face.

you shake your head, denying the idea. “no, i still want to go through with this.”

the others arrive and act pretty rowdy. they seem intimidating..

“wow! so you’re bakugou’s girlfriend? you’re too pretty for him!” mina gushes over you, eyeing you up and down with bright eyes.

“i hope we can be friends, my name is uraraka ochako! what’s your name?”

“you have awesome style!”

“it’s so nice to meet you officially!”

“can you guys back off? do you all not remember the fucking rule i mentioned yesterday?” bakugou intercepts all the greetings when he notices your aura turning a dark black. he pulls you closer to him protectively and rubs your back lightly to hopefully calm you down.

“w-we’re so sorry! we didn’t mean to upset you!” uraraka apologizes, the others follow.

you eventually relax at their presence and gradually grew comfortable with them as you all decide to shop together. bakugou won’t admit it but he does feel satisfied knowing that the others know you are his now.

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