#[ i do thank everyone for support n holds so gently respectfully....

[pirateborn-a]

     19..........

[bittersweetmorality]

— chuuya boyfriend headcannons (sfw & nsfw)+ drabble

☾ genre: SFW and NSFW Headcannons (NSFW section is marked-- 18+)

☾ pairing: Nakahara Chuuya x GN!reader (reader is given the name ‘mommy’ in the drabble)

☾ warnings: none for the SFW– general smut for the NSFW ??

☾ w/c: 1,978 words

☾ a/n: hey lol :D as a certified chuuya fucker, i just had to.  i literally have like three other chuuya drafts that i’m currently working on.  hopefully they turn out like i want and i can post them bc :| the chuuya tag is starving.  anyway i hope i can populate it just a tad.  thanks for reading bugs !

— SFW 

lemme start off by saying that he will treat yo ass RIGHT.  ON MY MOMMA.

not to bring his trauma into this already but :| my man has major abandonment issues.  he will not do anything to jeopardize your relationship, and he honestly just values your happiness above anything else

you just know how much he cares about the fellow members of the mafia– even though they don’t requite the same amount of love that he gives them, he still loves them wholeheartedly

even dazai

little shit

his love language is definitely touch and gift-giving.  no i don’t accept criticism because i’m right

you’re telling me he wouldn’t absolutely spoil you with expensive gifts ?? mans is a mafia executive– he’s making hella bank, and he is spending it all on you

he’s also definitely a pretty clingy significant other, but good luck trying to get him to admit that :|

his life is… well… yaknow

there’s always a lot going on there..... he’s stresst

he wants nothing more than to just hold you in his arms after a long day-- especially if he just came back from a hard day at work

times like this are when he’s most clingy-- he feels like he almost lost you, and now he never wants to let you go

many, many times he’s fallen asleep like this; you’re basically suffocating in his grip as his eyelids flutter closed, either on the couch or your bed

but of course you’re not going to complain

and he’s so glad you don’t

he’s also the type to almost never explicitly say that he loves you at first, it’s simply not something that comes naturally to him

instead he indulges in his love languages profusely, and he just hopes you get the message

he’s also afraid that you’ll leave him if he says something like that, so for a long time he doesn’t :(

so when you come home to a bottle of expensive wine wrapped in an exquisite red ribbon, you know he just wants to tell you how much he loves you

eventually, of course he’s comfortable with you enough to say it, and it comes completely natural

and since he’s such a romantic, he says it every morning when you wake up, and before you go to bed without fail

he’s definitely the type to show you off too

like, as he’s having a conversation with someone, he’ll suddenly get really loud when talking about you so everyone within a three-mile radius can hear

“well, you see i would go out drinking with you tonight, but i actually have a date.  with my partner.  you know them, right?  here’s a picture i took of them a few days ago, just look a-”

also: biggest hype man

you could open a jar of jam and he’d be like “holy shit, you go babe”

nakahara chuuya kiss me rn challenge

anyway, basically he’ll love and support you no matter what

like truly you’re like a walking ray of sunshine to him

anyway !!!! DATES !!!!!!!

dates with chuuya are planned.  always.

like i SAID he’s a hopeless ROMANTIC MY GOD

he absolutely loves picking you up at your doorstep and taking you for a ride around town on his motorcycle

speaking of which, your arms wrapping around his middle and squeezing him tight as he drives the bike is literally his favorite thing in the world.  oh my god you’re going to make him melt

and i know for a fact your first kiss with him was after he dropped you off at your door when your first date was at its end

it was almost completely perfect honestly, except when your faces were just mere inches from one another, his hat bumped into your forehead and fell to the ground

baby was so embarrassed-- he went bright red and picked up his hat, basically shielding his face

he just wanted the date to be completely perfect– and it was!! until that happened

but obviously you just let out a light giggle and pulled him against you, and he quickly closed the gap between your lips

also, chuuya sleeps in

he sleeps a lot <33

that being said he loves lazy mornings

it’s well past 11, but you’re still laying in his arms– who is he to get up?? and disturb the peace??????

he will not.

also!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i can’t even emphasize this enough, but please comb your fingers through his hair

there’s a chance he might melt into a puddle on the spot and never recover but still

on the rare occasion where he’s the little spoon--

(which, speaking of which, @dazai-centric​ has a headcannon that chuuya always insists on being the big spoon no matter what, but on rare occasions he lets himself be wrapped up in your arms and THEY’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT.)

anyway, so on this rare occasion

where his head is basically buried in the junction between your shoulder and your neck, and you just rake your fingers through his hair softly

he dead.  dead as hell.

and ERRRRM.  kisses with him are just……… wow…………

naturally, he always wants to be the best at everything-- it’s just his personality

and kisses are no exception

he has to be the BEST

and he is

so, kisses are always so passionate and rough

okay hold on maybe this should go under the NSFW category 😐

ANYWAY!!!! 19472946/10 boyfriend

— NSFW

so rough sex is very common for y’all 😁

he likes to take his frustrations out from the day like this, and honestly you don’t complain

he definitely has a high sex drive so 😁

obviously you have an established safe-word and talk about everything before anything transpires because the LAST thing he wants is to hurt you in any way

but if you ask him to spank you he is definitely not gunna say no <3 chuuya said spanking kink

speaking of kinks

bondage xoxo

this goes both ways— he likes to tie your wrists to the headboard with rope and tie your legs down if you’re okay with it

for him, he likes his wrists cuffed to the bed

but he definitely doesn’t like all of his power stripped away by having him completely tied up

also he loves eye contact

that’s why missionary and mating press are his favorite positions <3

he likes to grab you by the jaw and make you look at him when he’s fucking you

“hey, hey, princess what did we say? if you want to cum, look me in the eyes when i fuck you, yeah?”

he loves praise and degradation equally

but if you’re degrading him don’t go too far :((

degrade slightly him while he’s on the bottom and he’s putty in your hands

now, if you praise him while he’s on top, get ready to not be able to walk for the next 3-5 business days because that’ll feed his ego a LOOOT

and he’ll just get lost in the moment because he loves you....... so much

he degrades you slightly, but only during foreplay

he calls you his little slut, or his whore

“aw, so wet for me and we’re barely getting started, doll.  such a little whore, aren’t you?”

when you actually get into it, it’s all praise from him

he wants you to know how important you are to him, how good you feel and just everything on his mind

he loses his filter in the moment awn god

“so fucking perfect, i only want you.  you’re mine.  god, you feel so fucking good.”

he loves to hear you too-- it really feeds his ego

but sometimes if he’s really had a rough day, he’ll make you gag on his finger or wrap his hand around your neck

he doesn’t squeeze too hard nor genuinely make you gag, he just likes the way your eyes are barely able to meet his because he’s making you feel so good

but ANYWAY pet names are a MUST with him

he calls you doll, sweetheart, princess, baby, dove, doll

basically every sweet name under the sun during sex

he likes you to call him sir 😁

this man has no shame when it comes to noise

like absolutely none

since he’s possessive, he wants people to know he’s fucking you, and how good he feels because of you

no one else can make him feel that way and he wants everyone to know

so he’s LOOOUUUDD,,,, especially in your ear

he likes leaning down and moaning in your ear, just to get a reaction out of you

he makes fun of you for it later on, and you have his full permission to smack that smug little smirk off his face

but the amount of times you had to stop mid-way because y’all got knocks on your door from your neighbours 😐 they’re so sick of y’all

on average, you have sex at least 4 times a week

that’s not including quickies tho

did i mention that chuuya loves quickies <3

especially when it’s in his office and he fucks you on his desk

and because he doesn’t care who hears him-- you bet your ass the entire Port Mafia has heard you

he likes to go down on you for quickies more than actual sex, and he will respectfully never decline a blowjob

because he’s a gentleman

anyway

sorry to any of y’all who have a breeding kink,,, but chuuya definitely does not

he’s so afraid of having kids

moving on

onto sub!chuuya

did somebody say SWITCH 🤨☝️

chuuya did <3

now for a long time he doesn’t really let his submissive side out because,,, it’s a really vulnerable part of him yaknow?

but after a while, and after he’s completely trusted you to take care of him like that

oh boy

bottom bitch <3

still loud as HELL

except it’s less of moaning and more of whining

he’s such a whiner

and a brat

mommy kink mommy kink mommy kink mommy kink mo

also i don’t really know how else to describe it but-- if you force him to look you in the eyes and use a stern tone

..........dead.  dead as hell.

now take this drabble as a tribute to sub!chuuya

“and why should i listen to you?  what are you gunna do?” chuuya furrowed his brows at you, as if he was challenging you.

“aw, baby,” you leaned down from your position of straddling him, caging his head between your arms.  “you still have so much to say even though your hands are handcuffed to the bed.  so bold, aren’t you?” you stroked his lower lip gently, and he whimpered lowly in response.

suddenly, you sat up, getting into a position to prepare to get up off of him completely, “but, you’re right.  what am i going to do?  i guess i’ll just leave you here for the rest of the night.  go-”

“WAIT!! NO- I-” he bit his lip to stop any more words from escaping him.

“’wait’?  is there something you wanna say, baby?” your legs trapped his once again.

“... please.”

he averted your gaze, and you reached down to grip his jaw sternly, moving his head to face you completely.

“please what?”

no answer.

“you know i can’t read your mind, baby.  you’re going to have to use your w-”

“please fuck me.” the words tumbled out of his mouth, almost too quickly to even be audible, still, your lips shifted into a gentle smile.

but you weren’t completely content with him yet.

“and what’s my name?”

“...mommy.”

“and you want mommy to fuck you, is that right?”

“...yes.  please...”

you planted a passionate kiss onto his lips, and upon breaking it, you shifted closer to his ear.

“well, i can’t say no since you asked so nicely, now can i?”

masterlist

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and angst word count: 3.7k WARNINGS: hospital setting, mentions of surgery/operation, blood, violence

a/n: so, this is it guys. the final part of ifliys :( i would like to extend my sincere thank yous to each and everyone who have read, liked, commented and shared this series. this is the very first fanfic i was able to finish/complete because of the support, love and motivation you all gave as i wrote this. don’t worry! there is an epilogue and i will announce what i have in store for them in the near future. in the meantime, this is part ten. thank you very much!

ten: moonlight | masterlist

The Queen is talkative. That’s one of the many quirks she has that you noticed when you were growing up. It’s not the uncomfortable or annoying kind of talkative. You really don’t know how to exactly put it, but she’s talkative in an elegant and easy-going way. One time, she decided to take a walk on a particularly busy street with only one member of the security detail assigned to tail her a few meters behind. She told you the whole story, excitedly. She was casually strolling and asking typical questions like what time is it to some vendors, passersby and the like. She even held a conversation about olive oil that lasted a good twenty minutes until the stranger she was talking to recognized who she was. You can tell that she had a blast as she laughed all through the evening. 

Spending time with her gradually dwindled because of your job paired with your official duties as the Crowned Princess. But when opportunity arises, you make sure to make it worth the wait. Conversations are easy with her because she’s trustworthy and most importantly, she’s your mother. She usually asks you random, yet unexpectedly relevant questions whenever the two of you share a cup of coffee or tea or when you go shopping and even now is no different, as you’re about to choose the right fabric for your wedding dress. 

“Describe the person that brings the best out of you.”

Ah, here we go. Your mother is surely not distracting you but her intent stares as she props her arm against the armrest of the white couch she’s sitting on is definitely pulling you away from the matter at hand. The look on your eyes is telling her really? and she fires back with an expecting one telling you a silent, “well? Come on. Tell me.”

You snort and shake your head, bringing your attention back to the table. You’re not denying your mother an answer because you know who to describe. It’s not that hard to figure out and you know she’s smart enough to know.

Jeon Wonwoo.

“How do you want me to describe? Personality or physical features?” You ask back and humor her as you fiddle with one lace material. 

“Both,” she challenges with a mischievous grin and you’re not one to back down. 

“Well, the person is quite tall and sharp in terms of physical features,” you start, doing your best to describe him implicitly. “Has a way with words, but they are all genuine and honest.”

Unbeknownst to you, your mother’s fond smile confirms your assumption that she is smart and that she knows who you’re talking about. But she presses on, loving how you describe this mysterious person. 

“What about those features then? How do they help you?”

You thought for a moment and when the right words came to mind, you didn’t hesitate to say, “They inspire me to do and be better not only for myself but for everyone else. Mostly it’s their genuineness and honesty that inspires me.”

You and your mother laugh together at your last sentence. 

It’s true though. After witnessing Wonwoo in the light of his Kingdom, something tugged at your heartstrings. You don’t exactly remember when, maybe it was around high school, but you remember adamantly telling your friends that you would want to be with someone that will bring the best out in you. Someone that can fuel your desire to be of service for the greater good. It sounds awfully used too often and you’re sure you’re not the only one who thinks this way, but as you have already said, it’s the truth.

Despite the circumstances, you found that someone. You found Wonwoo.

A few seconds later, Jeongyeon comes in with a knock and announces, “Your Majesty, Prince Wonwoo has arrived.”

Your eyes spring up at the name, distracted once again. And when you see the “tall” and “sharp” Prince, you’re quick to your feet and run towards him. He stumbles a little when you jump at him in a tight hug, arms clinging around his neck. Nonetheless, he smiles and welcomes your enthusiastic embrace with a soft smooch on the side of your head. 

“Wait,” you abruptly pull away. “You’re not supposed to be here, though.”

Wonwoo acts dumb, tilting his head to the side. “What do you mean? Her Majesty invited me to be here.”

“Calm down, Y/N,” you hear the culprit say behind your back as she stands up to greet her future son-in-law. “There’s no dress yet. It’s okay for him to be here.”

You subtly roll your eyes. You’re not one to be superficial but if there were a dress already, she’d take her words back. You return your arms back to Wonwoo’s waist and lean your chin against his chest, your lips pulling into a pout. He leans down to meet your lips with a quick peck but your mother was quicker to push you aside and to take her turn in giving him a hug. 

Your jaw drops and your pout is exchanged with a scowl. 

Wonwoo tries his best to hold his laughter but to no avail, fails as he formally greets the Queen. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.” 

“Always good to see you, my Prince,” the Queen replies and gently pats his cheek. “And now that you’re here, I can finally take my leave.”

“Leave? We haven’t even picked a fabric yet,” you remind her and stand in between them. 

“Honey, you have been going back and forth since nine in the morning,” she retaliates and walks back to the couch to pick her bag up. “Let’s schedule for another day. Unless you want Wonwoo to leave and we continue.”

Your stance immediately takes a hundred eighty degree turn. “You know what, you’re right. Let’s clear Saturday next week and we’ll take it from there.”

“I thought so.”

With a knowing wink, the Queen takes off.

That memory was from about three weeks ago after your visit and vacation at Wonwoo’s Kingdom. Wedding planning was back and the two of you went your separate ways for the time being to prepare your respective attire and accessories. Wonwoo didn’t know you had that conversation with the Queen not until she told him here at the hospital where you lie unconscious and fighting for your life.

The Royal Hospital was once again swarmed with a plethora of men in black suits because the Crowned Princess of the Kingdom has been shot twice, one on her shoulder and another on her left leg. It was a failed attempt in assassinating the King but Kim Mingyu took the opportunity to target your vulnerability and let his men shoot you instead as if it was his plan b. Kim Mingyu, whom he never desires to meet, is finally in police custody. He didn’t try to elude his impending arrest. In fact, he knew he would get arrested. He just wanted to toy with people until he couldn’t anymore. 

Wonwoo has no words to spare to describe him and seeing his face and hearing his name everywhere and everytime is just making his blood boil. 

The Queen has never left the hospital from the moment she arrived while you were undergoing operation up to being placed in a private room. She was calm when Wonwoo stood up from the bench to respectfully address her. She just nodded her head when he couldn’t say a word without his lips trembling and enveloped him in a warm hug as he cried on her shoulder. 

She told him that the two of you haven’t spoken since your father’s arrest and it has been unbearably painful and challenging. She acknowledges how terrible and neglecting she has been as a mother when she knows how absolutely difficult this is for you. It’s even more heartbreaking because you never once complained. Instead you respected her silence and distance. She regrets her absence and seeing you lying on a bed, looking so cold and fragile is making her world completely fall apart.

“Wonwoo, I’m so sorry that this happened,” the Queen solemnly says and holds his hand tightly. “The Kingdom promises that everyone involved will be held accountable.”

Wonwoo nods. “I understand, Your Majesty. Our Kingdom will do so as well.”

“I also want you to know that Y/N never wanted to end the engagement,” she adds. “She was just afraid that someone like her doesn’t deserve to receive your love.”

Wonwoo didn’t know that you looked up to him. If anyone should be admired, it should be you because you were ready to drop everything just to uphold justice. It’s been three days after the operation and you still haven’t opened your eyes. The operation was successful. No artery nor major organs were damaged, but you did lose a lot of blood. Just like the Queen, Wonwoo has been by your side, patiently waiting. Right now despite your stable condition, he still feels like dying. 

The love of his life almost died before his eyes. 

Wonwoo rests his head on the small space beside your arm, similar to the first time he took care of you a few months back. He gazes at your peaceful face, silently begging for you to wake up. He wants to kiss, hear and hug you again. He wants to be with you again. 

“Wonwoo.”

He sits up straight at the sound of his name and finds the Queen sadly smiling at him.

“How about you go back to your apartment for today?” She suggests, taking the seat on your other side. “Take a long shower and have some shut eye? Hmmm?”

Wonwoo bites his bottom lip, hesitant to leave and not have his eyes on you. He badly wants to stay and be here when you finally wake up. But the Queen is right. You’re safe now so he has nothing to worry about anymore. 

Slowly, he stands up from the chair he’s been sitting on for who knows how long. He clasps his one hand around yours while the other sweeps the hair that’s covering your forehead and lands a gentle kiss there. You’re starting to warm up and that’s a relief. 

He talks to you every single day, hoping you’d hear his voice. For now, he’ll keep it to himself.

I love you.

Later in the evening, you find your mother quietly dozing off, her head swaying from left to right and vice versa as she remains upright on the couch placed near the wall. You blink your eyes and adapt to the sudden brightness greeting your senses. You try to move your head and take in your surroundings and after a few minutes of contemplating, you recognize where you’re at and remember everything. 

Dad.

Your violent gasp immediately roused your mother from her sleep and seeing you struggling to sit made her jolt up and hurry beside you. 

“Darling,” she calls and holds your thrashing arms down, worried that you’d worsen your wounds. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Dad,” you voice out against the dryness of your throat. “Mom, where’s dad?”

“He’s okay too.” You can see the tears welling up on her eyes as she caresses your hair and gently pulls you in a hug. “He’s safe.”

Together, you shed the tears of anguish that you have been holding back for so long.

The King couldn’t be here because the court didn’t allow his appeal to accompany nor visit you even just for a day. He couldn’t even carry his daughter’s body to the ambulance because he was handcuffed and heavily guarded. He couldn’t even protect his daughter from the harmful consequences of his mistakes. Your mother told you that he desperately wants to be by your side and you do know that. You’re way past his inability to be here and that’s none of your concern anymore. As long as he is safe, you’re more than content. 

The trial has been rescheduled for next week and your father has to be detained until then. You’ll try to visit him again once you’re discharged and together with that, you’d also find the strength to accompany him at his trial. 

Your mother was firm on staying and insisting that she’s fine when you tried to urge her to go home, but you can clearly tell how tired she is from the lack of sleep so you didn’t let her win. It’s already late in the night when she finally gave in. Your mother kisses your cheek one last time after the doctor assessed your condition. Jeongyeon would stick around for the evening in her stead. Poor girl cried so much the moment she saw you widely awake.

Once it’s only the two of you left, Jeongyeon helped you sit on a wheelchair and wheeled you next to the window before she left to grab some extra bottled water. You can’t stand properly yet because of the wound on your leg so a wheelchair is necessary if you want to be mobile. You’re starting to feel the back pain after lying down for so long, you need to move. The doctor was a bit apprehensive about allowing you to leave your bed, but gave in when you promised to stay inside the room. 

The moon, shining in all its glory, up in the dark sky looked so enticing, you had to take a closer look. The three days went by so fast and running through all that ensued leaves a sickening sensation down to your stomach. You shake your head, not wanting to relive the frightening memories.

Your attention goes back to the moon and one person comes to mind. 

It makes you selfishly wonder if he ever visited once or asked and worried about you as you bring your hand up to your neck. When you don’t feel the lifebuoy pendant, your heart skips a beat. You then looked down to your hand, your engagement ring is also not on your finger. You frown, growing upset. They could have removed it, but it should be back to you by now. You looked around the room, hoping to find your precious gems within reach. Just in time before you could wheel yourself around to search for them, you hear the door open.

“Hey Jeongyeon, have you seen my necklace and ring?” You ask to the void as you tilt your head back to the moon.

When you don’t hear any answer other than the sound of heavy breathing, you remove your gaze from the window to see who came in if it’s not your assistant. To your surprise it’s no other than,

“Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo didn’t keep count of the exact times, but he knows how long and how much he begged just to hear your voice call his name once again. He didn’t even have the chance to change from his sweatpants and sleeveless shirt when he received the call from Soonyoung (whom Jeongyeon told to). Honestly? He didn’t bother at all because he just wanted to be right here at this moment. 

To be with you. 

He takes slow steps as he calms his breathing. Meanwhile, you remained seated and let him come to you. You’d run to him just like you did back then, but your leg wouldn’t appreciate that. 

It felt like forever for Wonwoo to get to you. But when he finally drops on the floor and lightly rests his head on your lap, there’s no reason for him to complain anymore. 

Your tears fall again for the nth time tonight. You caress his wet locks, probably from the mixture of his shower and sweat. He cries too because you can feel it seeping against the pants you’re wearing. He wraps his arms around your lap, careful from crashing his weight. You, on the other hand, bend your head down to kiss the crown of his head.

Both of your hearts are shouting, finally. 

The beautiful moonlight shines on the two of you as you both silently settle down there for a moment, not giving a care in the world because this is just what you’ve been yearning for and you’re not allowing anyone nor anything to steal this away ever again.

Your long face doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo and he knows why you’re pulling it against him. But no, he is not falling for it. Instead he ignores your silent plea and continues tucking you back on the bed. You glance up at him and try to win him again with your attempt at puppy dog eyes and when he doesn’t, you give up.

“You know that this bed is too small to fit two bodies, Y/N,” he states the obvious and drags a chair to sit on. “I know you’re smart enough to see that.”

You huff and pull the covers closer to your chin. If it wasn’t for the wound on your shoulder, you’d turn your back against him. 

Wonwoo just rolls his eyes at your antics and holds your hand under the warm blanket. 

After your short reunion, Wonwoo decided to get you back to your bed because it was nearing one o’clock in the morning. You haven’t brought up what happened and it’s alright because you still have another chance to do so. Hopefully.

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo,” you whisper under your breath but his ears can hear your words. 

He nods and kisses the back of your hand. “I know, baby. It’s not your fault.”

Baby.

You never use pet names or terms of endearment and hearing him say it for the first time almost made you faint. It’s an exaggeration but you’re weak at the moment and anything that flusters your heart can potentially weaken your whole body. 

Wonwoo then brings something out from his pockets and your eyes brighten at the sight of the necklace he gave you. He chuckles when he sees your excited expression and stands up. His fingers tenderly graze the skin of your neck when he puts it back to where it rightfully belongs. 

“I thought I lost it,” you say, holding the pendant between your fingers.

He sits back down and what he mutters next makes you feel a twinge of guilt. 

“I thought I lost you.”

You sigh and coax him to you, grasping the hand enclosed to yours. “Come here.” 

This time you let him take the small space on your bed. You sit up as well so that you can reach his height. He helps you and once you’re comfortably situated, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest. 

Wonwoo smiles at your affection and lets his hand smooth against your hair. You have always been brave when it comes to touching him and he’ll never forget how you kissed him on the lips first. He’s so glad and relieved you’re finally awake. He doesn’t think he can go on for another day without you. And now that you’re holding each other like this, he wishes for this night to never end. 

“I’ll probably not inherit the throne,” you say against his shirt. “I don’t think your family would want you to marry an abolished monarch.”

Wonwoo’s hand drops and he breathes out a disappointed sigh. He is not having this conversation with you right now. Why must you ruin the moment? 

When you don’t feel his hand against you anymore, you look up and steal a kiss under his chin. However, that doesn’t suffice because he’s still upset and it’s evident on the frown adorning his handsome face.

“But I realized I love you, so if it means I have to beg all the way to their Majesties for your hand then—”

Wonwoo doesn’t let you continue and shuts you up with a searing kiss. He softly squeezes your cheeks with one of his hands, almost as if commanding you to pucker your lips. Your eyes widened in surprise but when he put his other hand at the side of your neck, you surrendered. 

It’s no secret that you and Wonwoo kiss. Oftentimes they’re just quick brushes, but sometimes they get a little bit more intense, deeper. You won’t get into detail though, because that’s a story to tell for some other time. 

For now, you eagerly meet Wonwoo’s passion as he lays you back down on the bed, of course with caution. He doesn’t fully drop his weight on top of you, one arm carrying his upper body while the other gingerly cupping one side of your face. 

His chest is firm and his shoulder broad as you grip your hands on them and continue kissing him. You should be asleep by now because you are still recovering. But Wonwoo is a doctor himself, right? So if he took the initiative to kiss you until sunrise, then it must be alright. 

Okay, maybe it’s wrong to mock his profession like that. But, you’re just grateful to kiss him like this again. Because the last time you shared one, tears were streaming down your face and you two were on the verge of breaking up. 

“I should really put you to sleep now,” Wonwoo whispers against your lips, breathless. 

You hold your laughter, still basking in his taste. When you open your eyes, Wonwoo is already hoisting himself back up. Your lips draw into a pout again and the cause of it just rolls his eyes.

“I promise there will be more, but for now rest, okay?” He pinches your cheek lightly and sits back on the chair. 

“You can take the couch,” you tell him.

“Sleep, Y/N.”

You no longer defy and close your eyes. 

You remember the first time he commanded you those words and looking back, they are all fond memories of your then developing relationship. There were many questions when you and Wonwoo got along so well and so fast. There were many doubts and insecurities. The two of you shared those in silence, which could have endangered your hearts. However, even though your relationship was shaken and tested, the two of you persevered. 

For you, Wonwoo persevered and words and actions are not enough to thank him. You couldn’t have overcome this without his support and patience. So from now on, against all odds, you’ll do exactly the same.

[justnerdthings]

Frigid Heart Ch. 6

F!Reader x Bi-Han

Bi-Han finally gives you a name! Also, drama!

@poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @whitelotusfighter @icy-spicy @crazytxgradstudent @d-taslim @bihansthot @legends-of-apex @lilliannmac @missroro @shang-hung

Bi-Han’s eyes slowly opened. Vision blurred again. But this time he recognized his surroundings and the ceiling he stared at. Stone masonry. He was in the Lin Kuei palace.

And he could breathe. Air, real air, felt so good. And his heart… he could feel it beating in his chest. It must have been a dream. It had to have been. He drew in a deep breath--as deep as he could before a sharp pain stung his side.

Hushed voices were all around him. The lanterns were low. What time was it? He moved to sit up, but immediately regretted it as pain shot through his chest. He grunted and let himself back down.

You had been sleeping only a few feet away, curled up on the bare stone floor when a gruff noise woke you. Your tired eyes opened to see your Master stirring. Your heart skipped a beat and you quickly sat up and moved to his side. “Master?”

His eyes opened again and shifted to your face. His brows knotted. You were there… Good. Then it really must have been a dream. He lifted a hand, surprised how much effort it actually took, and was secretly grateful when you took hold of it, allowing him to relax his arm. You frowned at him, at how weak he was. But he was alive. He would recover. You squeezed his hand gently. “You’re alright, Master,” you told him softly, watching his eyes close again. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. They said you’ll recover.” You lifted your free hand to brush it against his cheek gently… He was soaked in sweat and you wondered if that was normal for him. You hadn’t seen him sweat since you’d met him. Did cryomancers sweat? He didn’t even feel all that cold… Did… Did he have a fever? You frowned.

“Where is Kuai?” He rasped. His throat was so dry.

Your brows knotted. “Kuai?”

He was silent for a moment before sighing. Right, you didn’t know Tundra’s real name. Bi-Han was sure that you hadn't even known his own name. “Tundra,” he answered slowly.

Tundra. His real name was Kuai? You nodded, storing that bit of information deep in your memory. “He’s gone to help the others repair the village. He’s safe.”

Bi-Han seemed to relax further at the news, as if relieved. You watched him quietly before letting go of his hand. Eyes were on you. Servants and assassins were watching you. You felt your face grow hot.

Bi-Han's eyes had opened and shifted to your red face. A small grin tugged his lips. It only made your face redder and he chuckled weakly. "Interesting," he whispered, which made your brows knot in confusion. "For someone who runs so boldly into battle, you are quite timid."

Your jaw hardened. "This… I am not used to this, Master."

He grunted and shifted uncomfortably. "Stop calling me that."

You opened your mouth to protest, but decided against it. "What should I call you?"

"Anything else," he answered.

You frowned. That was unbelievably vague. Anything else? That could be… anything.

"Everyone calls you Sub-Zero," you said.

He nodded weakly. "My name is Bi-Han," he whispered.

You smiled. Somehow learning his name seemed a privilege. You bowed your head respectfully.

"What was your name in the Snow Ninja clan?" He asked.

You lifted your head to look at him curiously. "Y/N," you answered.

His eyes shifted from your face as he stared at the ceiling. "Do you like that name?" He asked.

Your brows knotted. That was an odd question. Did you like your name? How could you answer that? It was your name. It was the only name you've had. "I don't understand," you told him.

"Do you want to keep that name, or would you like a new one?" He asked, looking back to your face.

Oh… You had assumed he would just give you one. But here he was, asking if you wanted one…

“What would you have named me?” you asked curiously. If you liked it better than your name, you’d probably take it.

Bi-Han closed his eyes as he pondered for a moment. “Bao-Zhong,” He’d finally decided.

Your cheeks turned red at the name. You supposed the last bit was accurate… But that first part? Did he really feel that way?

His eyes had opened and looked to you. He grew amused at your red cheeks again. “Do you not like it?”

“Oh,” You straightened, then bowed your head again to him. “Yes, Master—” You stopped yourself. “Bi-Han,” you corrected yourself. “I do.”

“Will you take it?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nodded. “Thank you.”

He gave another tired nod and a sigh left him as he relaxed. It suddenly hit you that the Grandmaster had wanted to know when Bi-Han woke. Your eyes widened. You’d nearly forgotten.

You signaled for a palace guard. He’d made his way over to you curiously. His arrival had caught Bi-Han’s attention.

“The Grandmaster wished to be notified when Sub-Zero woke,” you told the guard.

The guard nodded and looked to Sub-Zero. Bi-Han simply closed his eyes again as he rested. The guard looked back to you. “I will send word to The Grandmaster.”

“Thank you,” you said gratefully with a small bow. The guard returned the gesture with a bow of his head and took his leave.

You sat with content at Bi-Han’s side as you waited for the Grandmaster. You watched Bi-Han’s chest rise and fall slowly with each breath he took. He looked so peaceful as he rested there. You wondered if he had fallen asleep again. What did he dream about? Were his dreams full of glorious battles? Or were they uneventful and mediocre? Did he dream about you? Is that why he thought you were valuable?

It wasn’t a long wait. The Grandmaster came and acknowledged you with a smile. You bowed your head to him. Lily hadn’t come along and you were grateful. You breathed in relief.

“Sub-Zero has woken?” He asked.

Before you could answer, his attention had shifted to Bi-Han, who had opened his eyes weakly.

“Ah. Good,” The Grandmaster nodded and stepped closer.

You moved to give them space, but Bi-Han’s hand reached for you. Your brows knotted, but you obeyed. You sat there with your head bowed as the Grandmaster looked between the two of you. A small smirk pulled at his lips, but he didn’t bring attention to you or Bi-Han’s seemingly growing feelings for you. He only turned his attention back to Bi-Han.

“Once again, Sub-Zero, your will to survive surprises me. How many close calls has it been now?” The Grandmaster said with a playful tone.

“Too many,” Bi-Han breathed, before succumbing to a small coughing fit. The Grandmaster didn’t seem concerned with it.

“As I understand, it seems your servant here was the one to save you this time.”

Bi-Han’s brows knotted as he looked over to you. You were glancing at him out the corner of your eye, but quickly looked away as you noticed his gaze shift to you.

“Ah, a modest one. How refreshing,” the Grandmaster said. “Do you not remember, Sub-Zero?”

“I do not… the last thing I remember—” He paused. Bi-Han couldn’t remember much of anything other than that dream. He frowned in his own defeat.

“I’m sure it will come back to you,” The Grandmaster assured him. “Your house has been repaired. Though, I understand your dinner has been ruined.” The Grandmaster looked back to you. “I will send a replacement when you are ready.”

Your cheeks flushed as you nodded and bowed gratefully.

“Can you walk?” The Grandmaster asked, looking back to Bi-Han.

Bi-Han sighed, as if dreading the thought of it, but began to push himself to sit up. His face showed his discomfort. You could see just how much he was struggling. You thought of offering to help him, but something told you not to. As if to save Bi-Han some face, you averted your eyes as he grunted through his pain as he finally managed to sit up. A shallow breath escaped him. He was already exhausted.

You peeked back to him. His eyes were on you as he tried not to take too deep a breath. You could see now, as the sheet covering him had fallen from his chest, that he was wrapped tight in bandages. Glancing back to his eyes, he nodded towards the clean robe which had been dropped off earlier. You quickly grabbed it and carefully helped him slip into the long robe.

The Grandmaster watched, hiding his amusement behind a stone face. Sub-Zero had always been a fighter. He’d fight death itself it seemed. That was precisely why The Grandmaster was so concerned with him. Sub-Zero reminded him so much of himself.

Despite his stubbornness, Bi-Han knew he wasn’t going to be able to get up on his own. He sighed in his defeat. He looked back to you. He didn’t have to ask, the look on his face was enough. Shifting behind him, you gently wrapped your arms under his. After making sure you weren’t hurting him, you gave him a small count off before pushing yourself up with your legs, doing your best to support Bi-Han’s weight as well as you pulled him up with you. Once about half-way up, Bi-Han managed to get his feet under him and help take most of his weight off you.

Once he was up, you kept your eyes averted as he put a hand on your shoulder to steady himself and straighten out. You caught glance of the Grandmaster, smirking at you, before he looked back to Bi-Han. “Do you require a walking stick?” The Grandmaster offered, but even you could hear the teasing that lurked in his tone.

Bi-Han let go of your shoulder with a grunt and made to take a step. You felt your heart skip a beat as he stumbled, but managed to catch himself. The scowl on Bi-Han’s face made the Grandmaster chuckle and nod. The Grandmaster gestured for the door with an outstretched arm. Bi-Han looked in the direction.

The door was on the other side of the large room. And before you could offer to help him, Bi-Han had started to shuffle his way towards it, refusing any more help. That didn’t stop you from staying close behind him. You watched him carefully. Your body was tense, heart pounding in anticipation of him misstepping and falling.

But he didn’t. He’d made it to the door. A guard had opened it for the both of you. You gave the guard a bow of your head. Once in the hall, and the door shut behind you, you heard a heavy breath escape from Bi-han before he put a hand on the stone wall and leaned against it.

You moved to his side. “Don’t push yourself,” you said just loud enough for him to hear.

He shook his head. “I can’t let him see me weak.”

“You almost died,” you reasoned. “I’m sure he—” You stopped when you caught his stern eyes. You straightened. You gave him a single nod. “Take your time,” you said then, and he seemed to relax with your words.

After a few moments, he began walking again, using the wall for support. You didn’t leave his side.

Outside however, Bi-Han was without a wall to support himself. He put a hand on your shoulder again. You let him use you to support himself as you both made your way back to his house. You didn’t notice anything new about it, the repairs had been seamless. The Lin Kuei must have had some remarkable builders.

Helping Bi-Han inside, he let go of your shoulder to use the walls again. Once you shut the door and locked it, you followed him as he made his way to his room. You helped him lower himself to his bed.

“Thank you,” He said, barely above a whisper. Your eyes shifted up to his. You weren’t sure he’d ever said those words before, they sounded so strange coming from his mouth. But you didn’t mention it. You just nodded to him.

“Rest for now,” You told him. You helped him lay back and pull over his covers. You sat on the edge of his bed. He didn’t protest in the least and closed his eyes.

It didn’t take long for Bi-Han to drift back to sleep. You had sat on the edge of his bed for a moment longer before moving to the kitchen. There was black markings all over the place. Apparently a fire had broken out in the chaos. Thankfully, it didn’t spread to the rest of the house. You sighed at the mess however. This would take hours to clean.

A knock had pulled your attention. You looked up from scrubbing the floor. Who could that possibly be at this hour? You could have sworn most of the assassins had turned in for the night and would get back to work in the morning. You pushed yourself up and wiped your hands on a towel. Knocks came again before you could get to the door. Hopefully they weren’t loud enough to wake Bi-Han.

You opened the door a crack and peeked out. The dirt covered face of Kuai stared back at you. Your brows bunched as you opened the door for him. He stepped in, covered from head to toe in dirt. “What have you been doing…” You mused as you shut the door behind him.

“Where is he?” Kuai asked, voice rough.

“Resting. Do not disturb him,” You told him.

Kuai’s brows rose. “Are you ordering me?”

You gave him a stern look. He grinned and headed for the kitchen, trailing dirt through the house. You sighed. More cleaning. You followed him.

“Why are you here?” You asked Kuai as he sat at the table, taking note of the burned marks. “Don’t lean on that. It’s unstable,” you warned him.

“I was burying our dead,” he answered. Your brows knotted again. “Did you not ask what I was doing?” He asked. Oh, right. You nodded with a sigh. “My house had burned down,” he’d then added, answering your other question. “I would have stayed in the palace, but I never liked staying there… Too many eyes.”

You nodded and moved to the sink. A basin of clean water was in it. You took a clean cloth and wet it. You moved to Kuai and offered it to him. He took it and wiped his hands clean. “Should I set out a couple bed rolls for you and Snowflake?” You offered.

Kuai shook his head. “Just one,” he said and used the rag to wipe the dirt from his face. You looked to him with confusion, but as he looked back to you, you suddenly understood… One bed roll… all the dirt… ‘burying our dead…’ You frowned and bowed your head respectfully.

“My condolences,” you said gently.

Kuai sucked in a breath. “Do not concern yourself with her. There’s nothing you can do.”

But guilt had already taken hold of you. Maybe if you had just stayed at the bath house, you would have been able to save Snowflake. Maybe the others? You hadn’t seen any of them since that morning. “If I had stayed at the bath house—”

“If you had stayed at the bath house, then my brother may have perished instead.”

You fell silent. You supposed he was right. You sighed heavily in your defeat.

“How did you command the beast?” Kuai asked, looking into your eyes, as if trying to find some secret. You’d turned your head away and he reached out to grip your arm tightly, almost threateningly. “What did you do?!” He demanded.

You gasped and tried to pull away from him, but his entire hand was big enough to completely close around your arm and he wasn’t letting go. “Please, Tundra… Let me go,” you plead as fear began pumping through your veins.

“What did you do?” He demanded again and easily yanked you back towards him.

“I didn’t!-- Please!”

Kuai wasn’t having it. He knew you had done something. He didn’t know what, but he’d been suspicious the moment you’d stood up to that ice beast and didn’t have so much as a scratch from the encounter. How had you gotten out without being harmed? How had everyone else gotten harmed or killed. But not you?

“Kuai!”

Kuai’s eye shifted up to look beyond you. You turned your head to look back. Bi-Han was leaning against the wall, pain covering his face under the glare he was giving his brother. Kuai looked to you, then practically threw your arm back at you. You quickly backed away from him, well out of his reach.

“She did something,” Kuai said, looking back to his brother.

Bi-Han kept his eyes on Kuai, but spoke to you. “Did you do something, Bao-Zhong?”

Kuai shifted uncomfortably hearing your new name, he looked back to you.

You shook your head, “No… I… I just spoke to it.”

Kuai scoffed. “You commanded it!”

“No--I…” You frowned and caught Bi-Han’s curious eyes now locked on you. “I… I just told it to stop…”

“And it listened,” Kuai added.

Bi-Han was looking back and forth between you two. He knew what Kuai was accusing you of.

“I’ve never known Ice Beasts to be that violent,” you told them.

“So you communicate with them regularly?” Kuai interrogated.

You were panicking. Now you were catching on to the accusation. “I didn’t do this. I swear!”

“You’re the only one unscathed!” Kuai shouted.

“No! No! That’s not true! It was attacking me too!” You plead.

“And yet there is not a scratch on you!” Kuai countered.

“I just…” Tears were starting to roll down your cheeks now. “I didn’t cause this!”

“What happened?” Bi-Han asked, trying to keep his voice clear and calm. “Why would an Ice Beast listen to you?”

“Do… Do they not listen to you?” You asked them, but they just gave you bewildered expressions. “They… We…” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “In the Snow Ninja clan, they help us. We have them do the work that would take several of us to do… They protect us…”

“You enslaved them?” Kuai asked in disbelief.

“They made life easier…”

“Like horses?” Bi-Han asked.

“Yes.”

Bi-Han and Kuai exchanged looks before looking back at you. “Did you know the one who attacked us?” Kuai asked.

You shook your head.

“And you did not command these Ice Beasts to attack the village?”

“No.”

“Then why did they attack?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I thought the Lin Kuei had killed all the Ice Beasts in my old village. The one that attacked us… There was something in its eyes… Something unnatural… Like it wasn’t in control.”

“What are you saying?” Bi-Han asked.

“It was as if… it was under a spell,” you answered.

“A spell?” Kuai said, looking back to his brother. Bi-Han looked just as confused. “Who would put a spell on an Ice Beast to destroy our village?”

“We have no shortage of enemies, Kuai,” Bi-Han reminded him.

“Please. Believe me. I did not bring them here,” You plead again.

Kuai had side-eyed you, not entirely convinced.

“I do believe you,” Bi-Han reassured you. Kuai stared back to his brother in disbelief. “You would not have saved me if you had sent them to destroy us. You would have ran in the chaos,” Bi-Han reasoned.

The tension that was building in your shoulders had melted away. Bi-Han believed you. And he had been right. If you had gotten the Ice Beasts to attack the village, you certainly would have run. And you certainly wouldn’t have saved Bi-Han or Kuai.

[mindninjax]

Iron and Wine (4)

Chapter 4- Two Blue Eyes

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Erwin Smith x fem!reader (Royalty AU)

Warnings: They/them pronouns used for Hange, Miche literally almost charming the panties off of you, some minor character death, I'm not gonna ruin the surprise just know some of you will be disgusted with me and others will be thrilled lololol

WC: 5.1K

a/n: I'm sorry this took so long to get out. I changed so much shit around in this chapter because this is where it gets REAL. I think I've finally got what I want to happen from this point on locked and loaded though. Writing it may be a different story because this month is gonna get a lil busy for me. s/o to @lazyezstudy and @charlotteplsdosth for being sweet little darlings. 💖I'll dedicate this chapter to you.😘

Erwin’s eyes scan the horizon once more as the fluttering wings of the raven in the rookery rustles his hair. It’s been two weeks and there’s been no word from Abel or Keiji. They’ve never gone this long without sending word back which can only mean trouble. Erwin chews his lip nervously, creasing his brow as he racks his brain. What should he do? Send more men to find the two he lost? That would be a wise decision, if he had men to send. A raven flutters down next to him and he pets the head with one finger, gently.

What could have hindered Abel and Keiji from checking in? A tingle in his gut hints at the answer, but he doesn’t dare give voice to it. It’s a bad omen and he’d rather spend energy preparing than worrying. He continues scribbling the messages onto the slip of parchment and ties it to the raven sitting next to him before releasing it toward the North. He lifts a finger to beckon two more birds down to him, attaches the other messages, and lets one free toward the South and the other toward the West.

There’s still the issue of the agreement or lack thereof with you. Perhaps he shouldn’t have pushed you last night. Though he will admit it was entertaining.

The sound of shuffling feet breaks him from his concentrated stupor and he turns to see Miche and Hange approaching. Miche’s large broad shoulders block the doorway to the stairwell as he fills the entryway and blocks Hange from sight. He bows respectfully before reporting.

“Sire, the war council has gathered in the war room. They are awaiting your presence.” Erwin watches the flapping wings of the raven he just released silently. He doesn’t turn around when he speaks.

“Miche, you’ve been in the presence of my special guest. How do you like her?” he asks as if asking about the clouds donning the skies. Miche gulps and blinks quickly in confusion.

“You’re asking me if I like her?” he repeats, trying to be sure.

“Yes. It’s no secret she is a beauty. Even Levi seems to have noticed. So tell me, what has your nose told you about her?” Erwin says simply. He turns to look into his comrade’s large honest eyes.

“Erm, well she smells of fresh grass and wood, moss and clear spring water with a hint of some sweet flower I’ve been having trouble identifying. I’ve only smelled it once or twice in my life, but it was so lovely I never forgot it. But…” Miche trails off as he watches Erwin raise an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?”

“It’s fading… that scent is fading from her the longer she’s here,” Miche finishes quickly. He sets his face in a confident smooth expression and looks into the king’s eyes.

Erwin matches his serious and confident expression, “Are you suggesting I let her go?” he asks slowly, enunciating each word.

“No, your majesty,” he drops his eyes, regretful. Erwin sighs and places a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t. Forgive me, I am just at a loss of what to do. It’s obvious the lioness doesn’t trust me and no matter what I give her she won’t change her mind. There is still no word from Abel and Keiji. I've sent ravens to Pixis in the North and Shadis in the South. War will be on our shores in months and I don’t have the support of my people, and decreasing numbers of soldiers thanks to famine and this petty war with the forest savages my father started,” he cards his fingers through his hair and runs a hand over his face. Miche can tell the stress of the situation is getting to him. A

“Erwin, perhaps you’re going about this agreement with the woman in the wrong way,” Hange speaks up then, pushing past Miche and clapping Erwin on the shoulder.

“Well you’re part of my damn counsel, so counsel me,” Erwin replies, giving a tired chuckle.

“You plucked a wild woman who’s people you just referred to as ‘forest savages’—it’s probably wise not to say that in front of her— from her home in the forest and put her in a castle expecting her to be enthralled with all the riches,” Hange explains holding out their hands in an animated expression as if the rest of the point is clear before them. When Erwin stares blankly at them and they sigh as if he’s hopeless and continues.

“It’s clear she’s not impressed by it, so why not show her something she will be impressed with? Something she’ll actually enjoy but can’t find in her forest village. If you can show her that you’re actually paying attention, she may be more inclined to join us. Moblit mentioned she was quite pleasant to him and she seems to have taken to Historia quickly.”

Erwin ponders their words for a moment and Hange knocks a fist against their own head as they try to think of something here in the castle that might impress you. Miche’s green eyes look between the two of them before he sighs deeply and grunts in a deep voice, “The private gardens.”

“Great idea big guy!” Hange says, clapping their hands together.

Erwin smiles at both of them, then takes a deep breath. He turns to look out at the horizon again, hoping to catch a glance of a raven. When he doesn't, he turns back to Miche and says, “OK then, I’m entrusting the lioness to you, Miche. Show her the gardens, make sure she actually enjoys it. Hange, you’ll join me in the war room. It seems we’ll have some things to discuss.”

“I’ve been sent to escort you to the king’s private gardens, my lady.”

A large blonde man whom Historia whispers and informs you is named Miche Zachariaus, bows before you as you swing open the door. You recognize him instantly. He’s the strong one who carried you away after your first talk with Erwin. You take a moment to scrutinize him before responding. Everything about him is large. His chest is broad, his shoulders wide and strong, he could probably fit 10 bundles of wood on his back and carry them with ease. He is handsome as well, no doubt part of Erwin’s plan. As if you’d be swayed by a man’s looks, though you do quietly and begrudgingly thank him for the nice view. He’s not wearing his armor which you find alarming. He either doesn’t see you as a threat or his skills are far beyond any you’ve known or witnessed and that also puts you on edge. You decide to be polite.

“I humbly decline,” you say in a small voice. As you’re about to close the door, his large hand stops it and pushes it back open. He looks almost desperate and you furrow your brows in confusion as you look back up to him.

“Please, my lady. I implore you to reconsider. I’m aware most of the luxuries have not been to your liking but this I'm sure you will enjoy,” Miche says, holding out a hand for you to grab. Your eyes shift back and forth from his outstretched hand and up to his gentle green eyes. He looks hopeful, like he really hopes you’ll take his hand. You hear Historia’s soft footsteps behind you.

“I’ve never seen the king’s personal garden. You should go, it’ll be beautiful. Ser Miche won’t hurt you. He’s very gentle and kind,” she whispers to you.

You give her a teasing smirk as you whisper over your shoulder back to her, “You’ve said that about everyone here.”

“Well I haven’t been wrong, have I?” she huffs and pokes out her lip in a cute pout.

“Only once,” you say, remembering the night Erwin came to your room. Miche clears his throat to remind you of his presence and you smile back up at him. “Would she be permitted to come with me?” you ask, nodding your head in Historia’s direction.

“You can invite anyone you’d like, my lady,” Miche responds and Historia’s eyes light up in excitement. You try to hide the smile tickling the edges of your lips and swallow the excitement at the thought of seeing the gardens.

“Very well then,” you say, grasping his hand.

The garden is breathtakingly beautiful. It’s as if it’s located in another world. It smells wonderful, not at all like the moldy castle corridors or the stench of burning fire and metal that drifts in your window from the castle town below. The sun rays kiss the green leaves of each plant and the array of colors each flower offers is more beautiful than any you've ever witnessed in your village.

When Miche opens the heavy iron gates, you’re at a loss for words. There’s a cobblestone path that leads to a grand white marble fountain in the middle of the garden. Multiple paths break off in different directions showcasing different plants. Vines climb up the walls and cover the stone, butterflies and bees frequent the flowers, and it surprises you how much this one little place reminds you of home.

There’s no stopping the bright smile that bursts onto your face and stays there while you gaze around in fascination. Historia is next to you, matching your bewildered expression and when the two of you meet each other's eyes you both laugh in amusement and happiness. Your laughter echoes through the garden and mixes with the babbling water of the fountain, a glorious little melody. Miche is watching you with a warm-hearted smile and you catch him ogling you from the entrance. You try to pull yourself together as you watch HIstoria wander off and Miche closes the gate behind him and comes to stand next to you.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Would you like a tour?” he suggests and you look at him in shock.

“There’s more?” you breathe and he chuckles a deep rumbling noise before holding out his arm. You hesitate again looking at his outstretched hand with suspicion. He doesn’t take it personally, a man as large and strong as him doesn’t have much to worry about, but he does give you a reassuring smile.

“Yes, my lady there is more. I thought you’d like to see all the gardens have to offer,” he replies, gesturing to the entirety of the courtyard. You blink in astonishment.

“This was your idea? How did you know I’d-”

“Your scent is strong. You smell like the trees and a sweet flower. I've been trying to figure out the name since you’ve arrived,” he says matter of factly. He turns to you then and reaches out slowly to grab the braid sitting on your shoulder. You surprise yourself when you don’t move away from him, but the fact that this was his idea, that he mentioned your scent, makes you feel more at ease around him.

“May I?” he says, green eyes drifting to yours. His long lashes brush against his cheeks and his deep voice rumbles through his body when he speaks.

“You wish to...smell my hair?”

“Yes, if you would permit me to do so,” he says politely. Again you look at him with suspicion, but nod to let him know it is ok to move closer to you.

Your eyes stay glued to him as he crouches and brings the long braid up to his nose and inhales deeply. He drags it up and down your hair, inhaling and exhaling with a deep pleasurable sigh after each breath. His eyes are closed as he focuses on the scent, mumbling words to himself.

“Pine...a hint of lemongrass...cedar wood...ugh the perfume overpowers the natural scent… and there that flower again...what is it?” He switches back and forth from sniffing your hair and sniffing the sweet air of the gardens. He’s quite amusing to watch and you smile to yourself as his shaggy hair falls over his eyes when he bends down to sniff you again.

Suddenly his eyes shoot open and he turns to face a path leading away from the fountain. He grabs your hand slowly, his large fingers wrapping around yours and swallowing it completely and strolls down the path looking back and forth between the colorful petals. He momentarily stops to sniff the air again before taking turns in the maze of plants until he comes across a hedge of thick green bushes and vines.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” You ask him, gesturing to the huge hedge in front of you sarcastically. He doesn’t respond, only bends down on one knee and reaches into the hedge. You try to pull him back, the hedge houses many thorns definitely as a means to keep people out of that area.

“No, don't! You’ll hurt your–“

He pulls his hand from the wall of thorns, bloody and pin pricked but holding the loveliest flower you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s pure white and unphased by the thorns or by Miche pulling it from its hiding place. You’re stunned by its beauty and it’s perfect white petals. He hands it to you and smiles a big joyous grin.

“How did you–“

“I’ve always had a good nose. I knew I’d smelled this plant before. Once near the edges of the forest. And then again when you were brought before Erwin. There were hints of it here, but it doesn’t seem to belong here. I figure it’s only natural to give it to you considering…” He doesn’t finish this sentence, not wanting to rub dirt in the wound of you being forced from your home. The flower make tears well in your eyes and you quickly swipe them away before he can see them.

You take the flower from him and bring it to your nose, the scent immediately reminding you of home and the huge field that has many of these swaying in the breeze. “It’s a moon blossom. They bloom at night or in dark places under the moon. It’s a symbol of growth in dark times,” you explain to him.

He nods in understanding. “I’d like to think…” he starts grabbing the flower from you again and moving to place it gently into your hair, “that it represents you, thriving and standing beautifully despite being so far from home.” His finger skims across your cheek as he fixes your hair. He’s definitely a charmer and he flashes you a cute boyish grin that you can’t help but return. His charm is genuine and you snicker as he steps back to look you over.

“Are you attempting to woo me?” you ask playfully.

“No. If I were, my lady, I’d tell you that there’s not a flower in this garden that compares to the beauty you possess. And that the dullest of days would shine brighter, for the sun would be envious of your presence and beauty.”

He finishes his sentence with a bow and a soft but pointed kiss on the palm of your hand. You can feel the prickle of his moustache in your hand and paired with his soft lips and warm breath, it sends a shiver up your spine.

The moment his lips leave your palm, your heart is thumping. You can still feel the warmth of the kiss on your skin and it radiates all over your body, culminating at the apples of your cheeks. You watch as his smile turns smug much to your chagrin, you turn away to hide the smile creeping at the edges of your lips.

“Alright then, I see now why the king sent you to escort me,” you say, clearing your throat. He chuckles in a deep baritone and holds his arm out to continue escorting you through the gardens.

“He’s very interested in you,” Miche replies, looking down at you as the two of you stroll.

You roll your eyes, “I bet he is,” you say remembering the way Erwin pinned you to the wall, his lips on your neck and jaw.

“Truly my lady, In all the years of knowing him, I’ve never seen him so entranced before,” he replies, watching as you let go of his arm to sniff a large drooping pink flower. Entranced, a pretty way of saying “kidnapping”, but something else he says catches your attention.

“How long have you known him?” you ask, curiosity painting your features.

“Since we were boys. I was a stablehand in the town right outside the castle walls. Erwin wasn’t king then but he snuck out of the castle to spend time with me. He taught me to read, taught me how to use a sword, and helped me become a knight under his father’s rule. He took care of my family when the food supply started running out, gave them jobs in the castle when he became King.”

He looks ahead as if he’s picturing all the events unfolding in front of him. You shrug your shoulders. Of course his best man would speak great things about him. Erwin is the King, it’s treason to speak ill about him. Though you will admit, this isn’t the first time you’ve heard of him helping out one of the people in the castle. You remember Historia telling you he found her in her village.

“What about Historia? She mentioned he found her in her village. Did he steal her too? She is a beauty,” you challenge, raising your eyebrow.

“Ahh the little lady, very sad story. The King happened upon her village after it had been raided by barbarians. There didn’t seem to be any survivors, the houses were burnt down, blood and carnage all over. He was returning from battle and stopped the entire army to search for survivors. She was the only one. Erwin brought her back to the castle, dressed her wounds and let her stay,” he explains.

You’re shocked but try to keep it hidden. You don’t think Miche is lying to you, it would be foolish. You could just ask Historia and if the story matched you’d know it was true. But there’s something about the way Miche speaks with admiration, loyalty, and genuine respect for Erwin when he tells the story that cements the truth.

It confuses you, the wolf king’s actions. The battles between your people and his to keep him out of the forest and away from the precious metals you know he’s after, the way he neglected his people despite them dying in the streets from famine while he sits in his castle and gorges himself on delicacies, it makes no sense. If he were as compassionate as Miche is suggesting he would never do these things. But there must be some truth to it, the Mother protects him. What does she see?

You're left to the many questions in your head as another guard approaches you and Miche and whispers something quickly in his ear. He nods once then turns to you and bows.

“My apologies my lady, but I’m needed elsewhere. Gelgar will escort you and Historia back to your chambers,” he says, grasping your hand and giving it a final kiss before departing.

You thank him and watch him turn a corner out of the garden maze as Gelgar gestures to have you walk in front of him and inform you that Historia is waiting back at the fountain. You nod and walk past him.

You suppose it’s time to stop being stubborn and finally read the documents Erwin left for you. If it means you’ll get out of here sooner, you’ll oblige. Perhaps more answers about the type of man Erwin truly is will be shown to you after you’ve read them.

The ravens reach Shadis and Pyxis in a matter of days and when they return it is not with good news. The number of men is less than what he expected to hear and more continue to drop from starvation as they speak. It has become increasingly more difficult to keep control over the North and South as the people grow weary and delirious with starvation. Pyxis and Shadis both report the same instances, talk of the lioness coming to bring them food and prosperity and good fortune as she did in Castle Town.

Lord Pyxis, ever the wise and kind old man and one of Erwin’s father's old friends, writes of the hope it instills in the people. He hopes that someone will come soon to help with this famine and the people are greatly appreciative of his faith. Shadis on the other hand is cold and views the whispers in the streets as a betrayal, a rise of another rebellion. He forbids any talk of you or the “nonsense” you would inflict upon his people.

Erwin scans the words on the notes from the two lords as Hange sits next to him, hands intertwined underneath their chin.

“Well it’s nice to know the people are of one mind. But Erwin, if we can’t get the lioness to agree we have no hope in helping anyone,” they say in a slurry of words. Erwin can tell their mind is working, filtering through the different possibilities.

“I have faith in Miche. She wants to help the people in this kingdom and she wants to keep her home safe and from invaders,” Erwin says, shuffling through many pieces of parchment on the table. He picks up a stained crumpled piece and glares at it. “And this will surely be a driving factor in her decis--”

The door to the war room bursts open as you stomp into the room, parchment gripped tightly in your hand. The lavender dress flows dramatically behind you as you drift into the room, drawing the attention of everyone present. Miche is behind you, desperately trying to keep up with your quickened pace as he flashes an apologetic frown and slight bow of the head to Erwin. You’re shaking with rage, head held high as you walk into the room with purpose. Your eyes are fixed on Erwin at the head of the table and you can hear the commanders whisper to themselves about your disrespect.

Erwin does not look bothered, rather amused as you come to stand before him and slam the parchment down on the big table in front of him. The goblets and war figurines tremble and topple over.

“What is the meaning of this?” You scream.

“Ahh my lady, I see you’ve read the document sent to the Beast across the sea.”

“This spews lies and deceit, we are not one kingdom, we do not fight as one. And I am not going to negotiate to share any of the fruits of my labor with you or this beast from the west!”

Erwin stands wordlessly and the others in the room immediately stand with him. He walks slowly around the table to grab pieces of parchment that sit in front of Hange. His face is no longer pleasant, but serious with a dark glint behind his glare. The pieces of parchment are wrinkled and stained with what you assume is blood. He holds them in his fist and hands them to you, nodding his head to encourage you to take them from him.

You do so, snatching them in a huff and uncrinkling them to read the neat scrawled handwriting. Your eyes scan through the first few words before Erwin’s voice rings out into the war room and demands “Read it aloud.”

You glare again at him before clearing your throat and reading the message aloud:

Greetings King Erwin, Wolf of the East. I am sure you and your war counsel have heard of me as they are tasked with keeping tabs on your enemies. I am not sure how much information your comrades Abel and Keiji gave you before I captured them but I can only assume they’ve completed their tasks remarkably. I can only imagine how thorough and intelligent you are King Erwin, as I've done my research on you as well.

I’ve received your letter, your partner sounds lovely but I have no interest in arrangements or agreements. I will simply take what I want: your lands, your resources, your people as that is what a conqueror would do. As I’m sure you already know, it is well within my power to do so. We will meet you in battle and crush you. I hope you will not take offense as you must be familiar with the rules of war. How many kingdoms have you crushed under your golden boot?

You drop the parchment, thinking it silly to continue with the self assured words of this foreign enemy. “You’re afraid of a cocky self assured bastard from across the sea? And I thought you to be a King.”

“Keep reading.”

“Why? It’s just nonse-”

“I said, keep reading.” Erwin’s voice is dangerous now, anger swelling inside him and you'd never admit aloud but it kind of frightens you.

You are probably wondering what has become of your loyal men, why they haven’t reported back in weeks? You're probably wondering what to tell their families, their wives and children if they have them. Well you’ll be happy to know I am a gracious war chief. I’d want to know what happened to my men as well. So I will tell you every detail of how your men suffered, until they took their last breath so you may explain to their wives and children as they wail in sorrow. And you may have what’s left of them, to bury or burn or whatever it is you do with your unfortunate dead. Their heads will stay here with me though, as my trophies. The details of their deaths are included in the lovely gifts I’ve sent you.

Best regards your majesty, and I look forward to seeing you when I land upon your shores.”

The note is signed with one name, “Zeke” in neat penmanship. Below that is what looks like a recipe, numbered steps and as you scan through them quietly you realize it is a step-by-step process of how the two men were killed. It is gruesome, horrific, unnecessarily cruel and you don’t have the stomach to finish reading it to yourself let alone aloud. You slam the parchment down on the table and look away. The other pages scatter and Erwin glowers at them.

“Did you see the diagrams, my lady? The diagrams of how he butchered my men? Or was the step by step process too much for you?”

“I don’t underst-”

“This letter came back attached to a bloody sack that held the maniac slaughtered remains of my men. This was a message my lady, a show of power. This… was Zeke’s way of telling me he will slaughter all who are in his path and he will not lose sleep over it,” his voice grows in volume and anger and soon it’s booming and echoing through the entire room.

“So you see, my lady I am no longer interested in the petty qualms of the past between our people. I no longer care about the hate your parents held for my father or the hate you have for me. What I care about is making sure this beast pays for what he’s done. And that he will never get his hands on any of the precious resources this land has to offer. So correct me if I'm wrong in assuming that we have the same goal.”

There is silence as Erwin stands before you now, scowling at you. He’s so close that your heaving breasts hit his chiseled abs as you stand there challenging him with your shoulders squared and your chin held high.

The silence stretches out into an awkward staring competition that you refuse to lose. The tension in the room could be sliced with a knife but your eyes never leave his crystal glare. For the first time, you can see past his brave mask. He’s confused, hurt, frustrated, and vulnerable and your hard icy stare warms the longer you look at him. You almost forget who he is and reach out to caress and comfort him but you lock your jaw and keep your hands clasped in a fist at your side.

“It’s different when it’s your men being slaughtered by a foreign enemy, isn't it?”

That catches him off guard and the anger slowly releases from him as you look around the room, looking at each of the advisors standing slack jawed at the exchange between the two of you. You look back to Erwin, determination on your face now.

“Seems we have a lot to discuss. When will the beast be here?”

Erwin sighs in relief, loud enough for everyone to hear and Levi scoffs under his breath and rolls his eyes at the show of weakness. “Nanaba estimates three months.”

“Perfect, that will be plenty of time.”

“Plenty of time for what? I need your decision, we need to start preparing,” Erwin says watching you look at the little figurines on the war table. You scan the map past the forest to the west where the blue coloring indicates the sea.

“This isn’t a decision for me to make alone.”

“What are you talking about? You’re their leader, are you not?” Erwin looks confused and slightly annoyed but no one in the room dares to speak up while the two of you converse.

You turn to look at him now, head held high. Your voice is strong and serious, like you’re stating the law of the land for all to hear. “Everyone has a voice and it should be heard. If you wish to have a decision, we will take this before my people and they will decide. Before you do, you will partake in living with us, learn our ways, drink with us, eat with us, celebrate and worship with us. And should they decide to accept your request, we shall solidify the deal underneath the full moon. It is in three days.”

You chuckle to yourself and though Erwin is still frustrated he can feel it slowly leaving him with every soft sound escaping you.

“What is it?” he asks, moving closer and looking into your eyes again.

“I suppose now you’ll be my house guest and I promise to be a better host than you.”

--

Tagging: @forlancasterrr @starstruckkittensweets @lazyezstudy @neptvnia @laceylaceyy @unadulteratedtreecrusade @gixxie @jeanbeaux @throughthethorns @casspea @charlotteplsdosth @melyannathemaia @saturnalya @ixwrites @mythical-goth

[7wanderingpaws]

Captain Bucheon 01

(gif is not mine)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader (Lee Nari)

Genre: policeman AU; enemies to lovers AU 

Warnings:  langauge

A/N: First chapter! Yay! Super excited! Also, the feedback I got for the prologue - THANK YOU SO MUCH. Im super excited and happy and grateful. Hope you will enjoy this one! ^^

story masterlist masterlist

: prologue

>>>First<<<

Loud screeching was what woke you up. Thundering of footsteps down the corridor made you groan and turn in bed because for god's sake, it was Saturday morning and they just had to be loud at 10am!

Your roommate, lying in the bed just four feet next to yours, stirred awake too, though considering her eyes were fully open, she must have been up for a while now. “I’m glad it’s them waking you up and not me.”

You sighed and managed to smile but you were tired. Life in dormitories sucked, but yours even more so since you were assigned probably the worst dorms in the campus. Having to share bathroom and shower rooms made you leave your comfort zone. But finding toilets in the terrible state you did just purely horrified you. Why weren’t some girls flushing the toilets?!

“You know very well I won’t kill you if you wake me up, Yuyeon-ah,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse. Having Yuyeon as your roommate was the only positive aspect of the dorm life. Some would argue it’s the most important one but you were selfish and you wished you had a private bathroom like the other, more advanced, dorms had. There wasn’t even a kitchen where you could cook your ramyeon deliciously!

“Doubtful,” muttered Yuyeon, amused, and she moved to sit up and start her morning routine while you decided to lie around for just a little bit longer.

Working tirelessly many evenings made you tired and the exhaustion always caught up with you during weekends, where, frankly, you didn't have work. Also, it being the beginning of your second semester, the tension and stress were on but you decided you wouldn't let it affect you too much. You have had enough stress in your entire life and you swore you would become your usual cheerful self.

And you had been, indeed, working on it. But that meant getting over, and hopefully, forgetting everything that happened almost one year ago. Your brother was still in prison and your family, terribly disappointed and in pure shock at what had become of your brother (plus your underage drinking fiasco), you all decided it would be better for you to move to the dorms for the time being. Another story was forgetting about the person who was behind the entire turn-over of your life.

Byun Baekhyun.

You never saw him after that one time he came to your high school. In that moment, you were numb, paralyzed and it hurt to see him. He dared to act like he cared. But over the time, you grew hate towards him. A hate that was weirdly combined with some emotions you really didn't want to pay too much attention to, because they were all based on a fake relationship. A relationship, that was something so beautiful, just for it to end up becoming a complete nightmare. A trauma. A terrible trust issue that you might never be able to get rid of.

It was safe to say that you, Lee Nari, would rather spit at Byun Baekhyun than ever start a conversation with him let alone acknowledge his presence were you to meet him. Not that you were expecting to meet him. After all, you had been incredibly careful - especially around Oh Sehun - in avoiding him by never-ever-ever-ever even coming as much as close to the street where the main Bucheon Police Station was located (but too bad for you; it was literally in downtown Bucheon) and even if you had to cross it, you whined and had to be dragged by your wrist (by Yuyeon). On the good side, there was never a chance for you to cross his apartment building as he lived in a different neighborhood. So that was, thankfully, out of the possible trouble inducing locations’s list.

But still, you couldn't help feeling anxious about spotting him somewhere. The first few months, you might have been looking around with too much hope, wanting to see his real self instead of the ogling at the few photos you had together stored in your phone. Just one glance of his eyes, nose, lips was what you wanted; it was maddening.

Then the flashes of that day came back, ruining every sweet memory, every sweet touch of his engraved into your skin, every stroke of his lips - it all vanished, instead morphing into his stern, burning gaze of which you were on the receiving side. The way he blamed you, the way he wanted to arrest you, and then the way he wouldn't let even your own mother hit you yet he gave you the harshest of punches… The moment of you overhearing his conversation with his tall colleague (you already forgot his name) until your entire world crashed on you. He lied. He never liked you. He never wanted a real relationship with you. He used you to get to you. Byun Baekhyun wanted to arrest you and then he arrested your brother and smashed your heart into tiny pieces. How could you ever recover?

“What, you're not getting up?” shrieked Yuyeon when she came back from the bathrooms, towel hanging around her neck. “The results of the votes are today so you better get up and prepare. You're the school's star, missy,” she grumbled and went over to her table, continuing her complex skin-care routine.

Right.

The way to get over Byun Baekhyun was to live and you could do that thanks to your friends.

Pfft, you had places to be. Forget about Byun Baekhyun.

><

Because of your communications major, you somehow ended up in the university’s student council. You were representing your school year but it was still unclear how the hell you managed to win over more than half of your classmates when all you ever did was hide or be with Yuyeon.

You entered Bucheon University with pretty damaged self-esteem, your cheerful self still recovering from the scandal. However, despite always doing something mischievous with Yuyeon neither of you had a huge circle of friends. It was only natural that the two of you did everything together. Even now, it was mostly you and her, plus Sehun and some other friends.  Unfortunately to you, many males voted because of the nature of your chest. The quiet girl with huuuge boobs, they were saying with hushed voices.

“Don’t pay attention to them, it’s you winning at the end of the day,” advised Yuyeon at the time.

So when the both of you waltzed into the seminar room with a round table in the middle and took seats (Yuyeon was there for your moral support), you could only glare at one senior who was sitting opposite you, his eyebrows wiggling as he  shamelessly drunk in your chest which was, as per usual, hidden under an L-sized hoodie. It seemed you could never escape.

When the president of the student council, Chul, appeared you all stood up and bowed to him respectfully even though he was a student just like you. He was the oldest though.

To your surprise, he walked straight over to your chair, throwing a charming smile at Yuyeon, who let out a quiet scoff in return, before leaning down to whisper in your ear, not forgetting to touch your shoulder gently: “May I have a chat with you? It’s rather private.”

When he leaned away, you blinked twice but nodded and followed him outside for a moment. You could hear whispers erupting after you left though you paid no attention to them.

“What is it, Chul?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Chul was one of the very few who never got distracted by it and you were thankful. He helped you a lot in your first semester, like finding you a job and teaching you how to drive a scooter so that you could easily do the deliveries while introducing you to some other interesting people on the campus.

“So about the spring festival - I have two things,” he started, his gaze set on your eyes, always making sure he reciprocated the eye contact. “First, you are taking part in the relay running for our team with representatives. Second, you have been requested as the MC-“

Before he could finish, you sighed holding out your hand to stop him, feeling the nerves kick in, not even paying attention to the first news. “Those votes aren’t even valid. They are all mocking me, Chul. Besides, I don’t wanna do it.”

Chul let you finish, patiently nodding. “Well, hence me stealing you from the meeting.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been requested,” he repeated, emphasizing the last word, “by our main star.”

“I thought we haven’t heard back from the agencies yet?” you asked. You’d written countless emails to various agencies, asking for special famous idols of theirs. To your utter distaste, it also included Siamsa but you couldn’t tell anyone you knew what an annoying, fake bitch she was.

He shrugged. “Well, we heard back from a couple. Siamsa agreed to be the main star of the festival under one condition,” he murmured, lowering his voice. He pointed his index finger at you. “If you’ll do the MCing for her.”

That left you speechless. That delusional woman wanted what now?! “I don’t want to, Chul,” you shook your head, frowning.

It made you wonder why you were getting nervous in the first place. Was it because of her status and having to stand in front of your entire school or was it because of the connection you both shared and that was Byun Baekhyun? Just the idea of having to face her and having to be reminded that she dated your ex made you weirdly sick in your stomach.

He sighed, scratching his neck. “I’m sorry, Nari, but I’m afraid I’m gonna want you to accept it. She is the hottest idol out there and everyone wants her the most. Imagine the attention our university - and especially us, the school council, could bring in. Don’t let us down,” he added gently, though you could sense authority in his voice. Chul was always fair, you had to admit. He never asked you to do anything that made you uncomfortable, never asked you the reason for your reluctance in the past but now he insisted and it showed in his intense gaze.

“I’ll help you with the preparations,” he added, smiling encouragingly. “You’re much more outspoken and talented than you give yourself credit for, so I’m sure you’ll be a star just like Siamsa.”

Well, he really didn’t have to say that last sentence. If there was someone you wanted to be like, it was your good old self. Of course you had more talent, after all you were the big-mouthed one.

Chul patiently waited, seeing that you were mulling over the options. When you looked up at him, you slowly nodded while hating yourself. “Fine. I’ll do it. But-” you stopped him from smiling widely, “what happened with the original voting? Who won?”

“Obviously, you.”

You shook your head quickly. “But I mean who is the actual winner?”

“Not important,” he muttered, brushing past you. “Let's head back inside. Not everyone has the time to sit around waiting on a Saturday.”

><

Once the meeting was over, you couldn't wait to spill the news to Yuyeon but needed to wait until lunch time, when you would meet Oh Sehun. You had sent him a text earlier asking if he was still grabbing lunch with you and Yuyeon (secretly you were writing these messages for obvious reasons - you couldn't risk he would be with Baekhyun). Since he had agreed, you and Yuyeon were speed-walking to the cafeteria, both of you hungry.

Once sat down and joined by the tall friend, you looked around varily just to make sure he really came alone. 

Sehun sighed, tired with your dramatics. “I'm alone, Nari,” he rolled his eyes as he was mixing his tuna bibimbap. “And now spill. The both of you have been acting like rabbits on energy drinks.”

Shooting him a frown, you still rambled away for ten minutes, telling them what had happened. Yuyeon knew about Siamsa and your past experience with her and Sehun also knew the vital triangle connection of Siamsa, Baekhyun and you. He still seemed shocked and even uncomfortable when he heard your entire story.

“What made her request you?” he asked after he swallowed a big chunk of food. “I mean - does she even know your name? Your university?”

“And you literally met her a year ago,” added fervently Yuyeon, deep frown wrinkling her forehead.

Just like your friends, you also had many questions but no answers. Mulling over various possibilities, Sehun finally spoke up: “Should I ask Baek-”

“No.” Your answer was abrupt, but cold, empty and harsh to which Sehun winced the slightest bit. Even hearing his name made your heart race fast and hence the sudden cold behavior. Sehun knew you as a cheerful, kind girl so seeing you being affected by his friend to this extent made him quite perplexed but nothing he wasn’t used to by now. It was his fault; he should have known better than to bring him up.

Yuyeon shot you an unsure look but this time, you ignored it, focusing on shoving around the rice in the steel bowl with the spoon.

“You should have declined,” tried Yuyeon.

“I did decline,” you answered eagerly. “I feel like that bitch might have something up her sleeve. If she does, I should be ready.”

Sehun was flicking his gaze between you and Yuyeon, thinking over your words. Surely, things you didn't know about could hardly hurt you, right?

After lunch, Sehun bid his goodbyes to you.

“Where are you off to?” you pouted, looking up at him with puppy eyes. “It’s Saturday, let’s do something fun!”

“I’m going to the running tracks today with my friend,” answered Sehun and ruffled your hair in amusement to which you pulled back and away from his sneaky hand. “Maybe later, hm? I bet you’re gonna do something with the student council anyway.”

“You and your running, aish!” grumbled Yuyeon. “Go, go, we don’t need you anyway.”

“Don’t get into trouble!” Shouted Sehun as he turned to walk towards the gymnasium and the track field. He waved one more time before he had his broad back on you.

You scoffed and grabbed Yuyeon’s hand, yanking her towards the dorms. “Well, making trouble has been more challenging since we are old enough to do trouble,” you exclaimed, jumping a few times to make Yuyeon walk faster. She whined and tried to pull away but your grip tightened and you snickered. “But that doesn’t mean we still can’t go and have fun tonight!”

><

“Let’s do one more round.”

“Hyung,” groaned Sehun tiredly, feeling the sweat dripping down the sides of his face. “Enough.”

“One more.” Byun Baekhyun shook his head once before he took off for another round. “Losers will keep losing!” he shouted with a cheeky, handsome smile, running backwards for a bit to check on Sehun and when he saw the tall male run after him in challenge, he snickered and turned back, dashing off into a sprint.

It’d been like this for almost a year. Baekhyun was always a gym buddy with Sehun but in the past eleven months, Sehun became a small, indirect punching back. Whether it was because he suddenly became a mutual friend with a certain someone or whether it was a punishment for being there that night with her, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

One thing he surely did know was that running helped him ease his mind and relax, maybe make him feel a little bit more numb like he so wished to be.

Getting rid of any intruding thoughts of Lee Nari was difficult. He felt sorry for her, the victim of his job. Fooling around with a young girl was not his plan but he knew he did it for the better good. He tried to persuade himself that he did it for the better good while pushing back the need to search for her and make sure she was doing alright. 

As he was nearing the finish line, Sehun caught up with him and they both jogged towards their bags nearby the tracks to freshen up. Sehun was heaving like a parched horse which made Baekhyun chuckle as he reached for two bottles, throwing one to his friend.

“Cheers,” exhaled Sehun harshly and quickly opened the bottle, gulping down the needed liquid.

Baekhyun hummed in reply and waited for his heartbeat to calm down before he would have a sip. “How’s everything?” he decided to ask. “The new semester just started.”

Sehun swallowed and closed the bottle. “It’s just the first week. You know the drill - introductions and boring stuff.”

“Nothing interesting happened then?” Baekhyun was very subtle in hints. Sehun was, thankfully, quick-witted.

“We will have the university festival in May,” he replied with the slightest of smirks on his face. “Siamsa is confirmed to perform.”

Baekhyun wasn’t looking at Sehun and even the information he just heard wasn’t worthy enough to make him pay attention. “Cool. She is an artist after all.” He noticed some girls approaching the track and he felt a small tinge of dissatisfaction. He really liked when the track was only his.

“One of my friends will be the MC. Actually, guess what! Siamsa made a special request. Funny, right? In what universe does a singer of her caliber ask for a mere first year student?”

Baekhyun snapped his head to Sehun. “Why?”

Sehun shrugged. “We don’t know why she wanted her out of everyone... though-“ Sehun pulled a thinking face. “It might have something to do with you.”

Baekhyun sighed, already feeling tired. “I don’t like that one bit. Siamsa is sneaky.”

Sehun nodded. “She didn’t want to do it but her senior kind of ordered her. So I guess she doesn’t have another choice.”

“What kind of senior is that if he makes her do stuff against her will?” huffed Baekhyun, his hands on his hips. “Isn’t he supposed to be there to support her?”

“Well, yeah. He did a lot for her so she feels like she has to do it.” Sehun decided to not share any more than that despite sensing Baekhyun’s questioning stare. He knew Baekhyun wanted to know what that “a lot” meant.

When Baekhyun knew he wouldn’t be getting more out of Sehun, he sighed and tapped his shoulder. “Thanks for telling me.” He moved to grab his bag from the floor when Sehun stopped him.

“Hyung.”

Baekhyun raised his eyebrows in question, waiting.

Sehun opened his mouth but then ended up closing it. Baekhyun was a tough nut to crack. It was obvious he was always interested in Nari’s well-being but him pretending not to do so was frustrating.

“I think-“ he re-started, remembering Nari’s emotionless face when he mentioned Baekhyun earlier that day. He opened his mouth to talk but Baekhyun was faster:

“I think it is better to leave everything up to her, Sehun. She is a smart young woman. If anyone can do well, it is Lee Nari. After all, she is finally able to do everything she was pretending to be doing.”

Sehun snorted a laugh, mockingly rolling his eyes. “And since when did you become so-ugh, respectful about that? Nari is stubborn and doesn't know anything about life.”

“It is none of my concern, Sehun,” replied quietly Baekhyun, looking somewhere off in the distance. “But I know she is stronger than you give her credit for.”

“She might hate you and she might not be over what happened between you two-”

“I locked up her brother,” gritted Baekhyun, “and before that, I wanted to lock her up. What makes you think there is any way for both of us to function normally even if we do meet?”

Sehun sighed. It was difficult to communicate with the both of them. Yes, they were both hurt but goddamn it. Anyone could know they cared for each other.

Baekhyun sensed Sehun's dilemma and so he stepped to the taller male and gave him a curt smile. “Don't push it, Sehun. She will be fine.”

><

Sweat was gradually collecting around your hairline until it turned into one huge tear drop travelling down the side of your face. The text message was as clear as the night sky.

Unknown number

drop it at the 1047 unit

top floor

“It's impossible,” you muttered, feeling yourself becoming nervous. You were standing in front of 1047 and it was definitely not the top floor. It was the first floor, just like the first  number indicated. 

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you raked your head about possible connections you could contact when you couldn't deliver the boxes as you were supposed to. There was never a responsible person, only an unknown number sending you messages with the quest and a requirement to always be careful (you supposed the carefulness was concerning the boxes). You would receive a confirmation message when the box was in safe hands. That was it. No unnecessary contracts; just you and the job at hand.

You tried calling Chul, you senior. After all, he was the one who fetched you the job but even he wasn't available at that moment.

When you were just about to lose your mind, your phone rang making you almost drop the box. Thank god for your reflexes. “H-hello? Chul?”

“Hey, what's up?” he chirped.

You told him quickly your problem but you weren't expecting his light voice to become more serious. “You can't find the place? Are you sure you are in the right building- shit, the time is almost up. I'll be there right now:”

Heaving out a breath, you checked your wrist watch. The box was supposed to be delivered within fifteen minutes. How would Chul make it in time for you, you weren't sure but you soon found out when you heard his rushing steps, his phone's screen lit up with the exact information you were provided with.

“Hey,” he breathed, taking in your worried gaze as you gave him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for the fuss.”

He shook his head once, muttering a single “no need” before he took the box out of your arms and put it down in front of the door. Grabbing your hand he started pulling you downstairs. “We gotta get out of here.”

“Huh?” you looked back at the box helplessly, before you couldn't look anymore, instead watching out for your step on the stairs. “Wait - Chul, I need to fulfill the task.”

He shushed you and before you knew it, you were outside in the chilly air. Dragging you a few more metres, he heard an approaching car's engine and he was fast to push you into a small alley that was barely lit by any street lamps.

“Chul-” you started, frowning. You didn't like him manhandling you like that.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered as he made you press your back against the wall.

“Yeah,” you breathed, eager to hear any information he could provide you with to explain what the hell was going on.

To your utter horror, a police car drove by, but you weren't terrified about why the police car was there. You were terrified about a certain someone sitting in that car and you possibly having to face that certain someone. Just the thought of having to see his shocked or disappointed face yet again made you inwardly whimper.

When the car was far enough, Chul turned to you. “You are doing a great job, you really are. But you mustn't, by any means, get caught by the police while doing deliveries. Got it?”

Feeling your heart thumping loudly from the adrenaline, you nodded. “What about the box then?”

Chul cursed when he looked at his phone. “Three minutes left. Go in and check the box. If it's still there, take it to the top floor as per request. Sometimes they give misleading information to you in case your phone gets stolen. Next time, make sure to double-check all the information they give you, okay?”

You were nodding eagerly and already started walking back to the small apartment building.

“I have to go but write to me if the mission is successful. Now go, quickly,” he said and without waiting, took off into the opposite direction.

Due to the stress, you didn't even stop to think about the weirdness of the situation. Rushing back in, you went to the first floor where you left the box. You were rendered motionless when the box was no longer there.

Someone took it.

Feeling fear creeping into your system, you took out your phone to call Chul just when you received a confirmation message.

Unknown number

the box has been successfully delivered

[bubbletimestories]

could you do a sebastian fic where sebby is dating his s/o only to get information out of them but they know he's manipulating them ? and then at one point he starts developing feelings for them but they were planning on breaking up with him :(

So....do you know the story of the girl who wanted to answer a quick prompt but finished with 5 pages ? 😅

I hope you’ll like it (I tried to write as gender neutral as possible) and thank you for the request, it’s highly appreciated  💞 💞 

The lies on your lips 

The sun illuminates the white facades of the mansion and gives the flowers in the gardens hues almost too rich for a painter's brush. The end of summer is still mild and the atmosphere is charged with the sweet scents of cupcakes and lemonade that we love to enjoy in the shade. However, not everyone takes advantage of summer idleness to relax under a tree while reading a novel. Two figures move by whirling in the courtyard, raising with each step a small cloud of dust which whitens their legs. Of the two duettists, only one is out of breath and, as usual, it's you. Your legs are stiff with fatigue, your chest heaves far too quickly but your hand does not shake, you refuse to give up. A few steps away, your fencing master does not even seem to be sweating and is patiently waiting for you to catch your breath, as he always does. His amused gaze could be infuriating if you didn't also perceive a touch of lust in it, as if the shock of your blades were only a preliminary before a more intimate and sensual melee.

“Your movement is good, Milord/Milady, but you are still resting too much on your left side. A Lisbon boot would disarm you in no time."

 Comfortably installed in an armchair stretched with white and blue fabric, your mother observes you from a distance, waving her fan of feathers. She absolutely does not believe that her child, with such an unathletic physique, can do much with a foil, but she readily acknowledges your progress since the arrival of the new teacher. If your father weren't on a trip to the wilderness of Scotland (a grim business of murder, alas, mixed up with occult), he'd probably be very surprised to see you so quick and determined.

With a discreet movement of the wrist, your teacher invites you to take a break but you don't want to, you want to draw on your last strength to carry a few more assaults before your limbs become soft like those of a puppet. Without reaching, you put yourself back on guard and attack with even greater vigor and speed, hoping deep down that you could pull even a grimace from the man in black. Your blades clash with a loud bang, you continue to waltz, gauging each other like two predators until at last you see a rift in your opponent's guard. Exhausted and excited, you rush into it and realize too late that this is a trap. The next moment you are lying on the ground, your foil a few feet from your hand.

 "Looks like you've lost again but your last streak, albeit a bit rushed, almost cost me the win. Hope you didn't hurt yourself while falling. "

 Gloved hands glide over your limbs to make sure you've got nothing, and you suppress a delicious thrill as you cross the eyes of an exquisite red. As expected since he won, you will have to resist the urge to scream while he satisfies you tonight, while his hands will hold your delicate wrists, his mouth will give you a thousand tortures without you being able to let your passion escape. One day it’s him who will lose his head, his body sweaty and your name on his lips. The delicious flavor of the forbidden only makes this relationship all the more incredible, those moments stolen from the time when the owl howls, just a few steps from the mother's bedroom. You get up with his help, dusting your dust-covered outfit while your mother congratulates the fencing master.

 - Well done, Mr Michaelis, you really are an outstanding fencer.

- It’s too much honor, Milady, I’m just one hell of a teacher.

Sebastian bowed respectfully, always so modest under all circumstances, so detached. His calm sometimes makes you think of a snake, a magnificent black viper that ripples in the grass, but that would be forgetting the burning heat of his body against yours, his kisses sometimes tender sometimes disarming at the most incongruous moments. Breathing still choppy, you take time off to go to your room and clean yourself up properly, removing the thick gray layer that covers your limbs, stuck with sweat. The bath prepared by the maid does you a lot of good and you let her clean your hair and nails, anxious to appear to your advantage. Then you ask to be left alone to get dressed, pacing the room, naked. Every corner of the room seems to you to be inhabited by the presence of the fencing master, in one place he devoured your lips, in another he healed your swollen ankle although it was not his role. You who had always refused the suitors around you, it didn't take long for you to succumb to the charm of the man in black, his soft voice, his elegance. Your affair has lasted for several weeks and no one suspects anything thanks to the young man's discretion. Your fingers stroke the glove you managed to steal from him after a night of love, you bring it to your lips, feel the grain of the fabric against your mouth. Then your smile subsides.

 Liar

 Such a perfect being, so mysterious, could not but arouse your curiosity but also your suspicions. When you have a father who investigates the cults of Britain, you learn to beware of what sounds too good to be true. And then there's this young boy you sometimes see, puny, a long lock in front of his eye. His almost ghostly allure has stuck on your retina and if you don't know exactly what to think, one thing is certain in your mind: Sebastian is lying to you, he is manipulating you like a vulgar doll. Deep down, it doesn't shock you, he wouldn't be the first to want to make an obedient toy out of you, but it's the first time you've let someone pull your strings. In the mirror, you meet a frozen gaze, filled with anger even if you don't really know which of him or of you deserves your hatred the most. Your hands angrily take the clothes on the bed, the satin slides over your flesh like an icy wave, so different from the softness of gloved hands. No need to lie to yourself, you realized a long time ago that Mr. Michaelis had wrapped his chains all around you, not just around your body but also around your heart. You want him, you love him and you hate him. However, you are aware that crying scandal would be pointless. The beautiful man is too meticulous, too well-liked to arouse any suspicion. And then, in this affair, who has the most to lose? That’s why you keep quiet, you don’t intend to chase him away or prevent him from carrying out his plans. No doubt he will achieve his ends and disappear without leaving a trace. But that doesn't mean you have to remain his puppet. Tonight you will end your relationship.

 ***

The moon is high in the sky as you leave the mansion to enter the gardens under the pretext of wanting to enjoy the starry night. The knots of your outfit flutter gently in the light breeze and you walk between the thickets to get away from the lights, the music, the rest of the world. No need to watch for a rustle, crackle or noise, you know Sebastian will arrive as quietly as a feather in the wind, as if he were emerging from the darkness. With a few glances, a purely aristocratic authoritarian chin movement which he adores, you have made a date with your lover in the secret gardens. Strangely, you don't feel any pain at the thought of breaking your bond, only a great void and a certain weariness. He gave you what you didn't think you wanted: the feeling of being desirable and lovable, and for that you are grateful to him. But it has to stop and quickly, before it gets too hard.

 "Did I tell you how much that color highlights your mouth, Y/N? Tonight you looked like you could devour the world with just one bite, with the movement of your lips."

 In the half-light, his pupils shine with a glow more reminiscent of amethyst than ruby, you have learned to recognize this change as a sign of interest, when his excitement is strong. Unless it's just a comedy, a subtle acting game. This is not the first time he compliments your mouth rather than your eyes like everyone else does, he says he loves the way you talk, curl your lips, consume like a voracious and greedy animal. Behind the delicate and elegant facade, he alone knows your insatiable appetites, the violence of your desires. You smile before picking up one of the swords you took care to take tonight. The bare blade captures the moon's rays and makes it shine with a silvery sheen.

 “We're going to play a game, Mr. Michaelis. We will face each other now, in the stillness of the night, until one of us bleeds. During this time, you will have to answer my questions honestly, without lying."

 Your vibrant voice informs the young man about your intentions, it is not a parade of seduction but a declaration of war. Regardless, both situations will bring him equal pleasure and he stares at you with a smirk, picking up the other sword without taking his eyes off you.

- This is a dangerous game, my love, what will I gain from it?

- You never refused a good fight seems to me.

 To support your point, you raise your sword with an innocent smile, knowing in advance that the pleasure of the game will outweigh anything else in the fencing master. You see it in the crease of his mouth, in the movement of his eyebrow, you've caught his attention. With feline grace, Sebastian begins to circle around the yard as before, shedding his jacket and exposing his thin muscles under the snowy fabric of his shirt. He can feel all the anger pulsing through your veins, you must have discovered something incriminating him, but that's okay. His mission is coming to an end and he will soon have to return to his little master, even if the prospect does not enchant him too much. He loves your company, your light shoulder movement when you concentrate, the tension in your muscles when you hold back from sighing, the twinkle of your eyes revealing the fire that burns under the fine varnish of appearances.

 - Let's start with something easy: is Sebastian Michaelis your real name?

- That’s the name I have agreed to bear on this earth.

 Your blades cross, you study each other with your eyes as you vainly search his face for signs of deception. You have never detected one before, you will not pierce his mask tonight. Fighting in your evening clothes is much more complex than in your fencing ones, the fabric stretches and hinders you in your movements but it only reinforces your rage. And then you have this strange thought that wounds will look better on pretty fabric than on dull cotton. As for Sebastian, he ditched the black of his suit tonight to let blood show with every scratch.

 - Did you come here to spy or to gather information ?

- Yes.

 His answer is simple, spoken in a clear voice without any emotion, shame, regret or even mockery. Would you have liked him to be more cruel? At least that confirms your suspicions even though you now feel a thousand questions on your tongue ready to pop out. You have to stay focused, parrying an attack to respond better. You feel stronger, faster than ever before, it's an exhilarating feeling but one that you can't appreciate because what's at stake in this fight is your heart.

 - Did you seduce me on purpose?

- Yes.

 Once again, he responds calmly as if you asked him if the weather would be nice tomorrow. The detachment with which he says "yes", while continuing to parry your attacks effortlessly ... it's almost painful. Sebastian executes a movement as fast as an arrow, his sword biting the fabric of your sleeve but not cutting into your skin. You're sure he did it on purpose, he doesn't want the game to end and you know full well he's too good to be hurt. His speed and agility are almost… inhuman. In a flash, you think back to the ghost you saw, to certain stories circulating about the queen's hound ...

 - Would you have kill me on the orders of your master?

- Yes.

 The attacks are faster, you waltz at a frantic pace, moving forward, backward, constantly avoiding to better face each other again and you feel the anger rising more and more at the risk of blind you and getting lost your concentration. Still, the young man does not seem to be trying to take advantage of it, just pushing your boots aside without trying anything further. On the contrary, he slows down the movement gradually, detailing your rapid breathing, the sweat that pearls on your forehead, the red of your cheeks. You are exhausted and even if you are enduring, you maintain an aristocratic health, you have to be careful. That's why he lets himself be disarmed, your sword under his chin while looking at you intently without even trying to wipe the thin scarlet line that crosses his cheekbone, signaling the end of the fight.

 "Do I have the right to add one last truth before we go our separate ways? "

 You should say no, you would like to refuse, tell him to disappear from your sight, that you never want to hear his voice again, his sweet but empty words, his exquisite and bewitching lies. But you nod your head without lowering your blade, in anticipation. Perhaps he will explain more precisely why he used you. After all, he's only telling the truth tonight, cruel as it is. Sebastian plunges his shifting eyes deep inside yours, running his tongue over his lips before speaking the most shocking, infamous truth a demon can ever articulate.

 " I love you."

[jasmine2042003]

Beware the Spirits of the Vengeful ~ pt 4

Once again, thank you all for the love you’ve shown to this series, in this chapter, I will finally reveal what you, the reader, are. This series is going to follow the story line of the series vaguely, this chapter is based off of episode three, season two. 

Top Supporters!!!

    @originalwitchsworld        @deanslittlebitch          @loonati0n

                      @buggaroox                 

And a special tag for @cece-lives-here! Here you go! You finally find out what (y/n) is!!!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / 

_____________________________________

3rd Person pov

Once again, the cemetery had been overrun with police and shocked onlookers. The (l/n) family mausoleum, that was once rubble on the ground, was now completely rebuilt and even more majestic than before. Yellow police tape surrounded the cemetery and Sheriff Stilinski had his hands full with the most recent discovery of the small body of young (y/n) (l/n).

‘The little girl’s body was perfectly preserved, as if she passed in the last week or so,’ The Sheriff thought, ‘Which of course is impossible, she should be Stiles’ age by now.’ The thought that the same thing could have happened to his son made the Sheriff’s heart ache. 

Speaking of whom, Stiles was running towards the crime scene, desperate to see what had been going on. “Stiles!” The Sheriff called, watching as his son swiftly turned around to face him. “No,” The man continued quietly, watching his son deflate and turn around to go home. The Sheriff shook his head and walked over to the forensics team. “What have you got?” He asked, already frightened of the results.

The lead forensic scientist sighed and looked at the Sheriff, “The DNA we found in the rubble confirms that (y/n) was under the rubble when the mausoleum was destroyed.” He told the Sheriff. Once again, the man sighed, it seemed that was all he did these days. 

‘Well, that is a case almost closed, but who killed her?’ Sheriff Stilinski thought to himself. Now the case moved from an open abduction to an open murder case. ‘Who just leaves a child in a mausoleum, she must have been dead beforehand, poor thing. Now to tell Melissa...’

Time Skip~

Stiles ran through the McCall house and up the stairs to Scott’s room, almost tripping over himself as he entered. “Scott!” He whisper-shouted, causing his friend to look at him in confusion. 

“What? Why are you whispering, we’re the only ones here.” He told Stiles, who was closing the blinds and the door and motioning for Scott to keep quiet. “Okay, I heard new stuff on (y/n) (l/n).” Stiles whispered, his eyes widening, “Is your mom home?” He asked, to which Scott nodded.

“Yeah, you probably ran passed her.” He told his hyperactive friend, the boy continuing to secure the room so he can tell Scott what happened. “Okay, so the mausoleum is completely rebuilt and (y/n)’s body was found in it.” Stiles started, watching Scott’s eyes widen.

“So there is no way the new girl is her, because she’s... well...” Scott didn’t need to finish his sentence, both boys went silent, almost respectfully. Stiles nodded but had a look in his eye. “We can’t rule that out for sure Scott.” He muttered, causing Scott to scoff.

“What do you mean we can’t rule that out?” He asked, but was interrupted by the door being knocked. Scott and Stiles opened the bedroom door gently, just enough that they could hear but weren’t seen. “Evening Melissa,” A voice came from below, Stile’s dad, the Sheriff.

Stiles’ eyes widened and backed away from the door slightly. “Evening Noah, if you’re looking for Stiles-” Melissa McCall began only to be disrupted. “Actually, I am here to talk to you, its about (y/n).” He said, the boy’s could hear Scott’s mom gasp and let him in.

They moved into the kitchen and Stiles could no longer hear what they were saying, relying solely on his Lycan friend. 

“We found her- her body Melissa.” The Sheriff told Scott’s mom grimly. Scott could hear her begin to cry, trying to keep calm and breathe. “My poor (y/n),” She wailed, even Stiles could hear her at this point, Scott felt so bad just listening, opening the door and hurtling down the stairs to comfort his mom. Despite Stiles’ disagreements. 

“Mom?” He asked, walking into the kitchen, gently grabbing her elbow, feeling her turn and hug him tightly. He acted confused, worried about his mom, but he knew what was going on. Although, he was still very confused. 

Why didn’t he remember her? 

3rd Person pov

(y/n) and Isaac stood next to each other in gym class, him quietly asking questions about the supernatural world, her quietly responding with a small smile. To anyone else, it would seem like two teenagers were exchanging silent moments or even flirting a little, something that made other students incredibly jealous.

The two supernaturals only looked up from their conversation when they heard Scott hitting the ground. “McCall, I don’t know why, but your pain gives me a special kind of joy.” The coach said, followed by a couple of chuckles from the others. “Alright, next two. Stilinski, Erica, let’s go.” He said. 

Immediately worrying (y/n) at the back, causing her to push her way to the front of the crowd, watching Stiles ascend the rope at a quick, agile pace. Erica was slowly dragging herself up, until eventually, she stopped moving, pinning herself to the wall. (y/n) muttered underneath her breath, a small spell just to help her along. 

“I’m fine!” She called to the coach, who was wondering if she was dizzy or was having vertigo. “Coach,” (y/n) spoke to him in a gentle but strained voice, “She’s not suffering from vertigo, she has epilepsy.” She told him, watching his eyes change from boredom to slight worry.

“She does? Why the hell doesn’t anyone tell me these things? Erica, you’re good. Push off and we’ll ease you down.” He said, but Erica still wasn’t moving.

(y/n) pov

Closing my eyes, I looked into Erica’s head, “Erica,” I whispered under my breath, knowing she could hear me, “Let go.” I took hold of her body and forced her to release her grip on the wall slowly, lowering her down to the ground once again. Everyone stared at her with pity, a few of the meaner kids snickering at her.

“Oh, shut it!” I growled, glaring at the crowd and smiling a bit at their look of shock and slight fear. Grabbing Erica by the hand, I led her to the back of the gym, sitting with her and stroking her hair gently. 

“How did you do that?” Erica asked quietly, still not feeling too great. I smiled gently at her. “I know the feeling of being angry at people, wanting them to feel the same way you felt, let’s just say we have a bit of a connection.” I told her with a pained look on my face. 

She smiled back at me and we spent the rest of the period chatting, or mostly me listening to Erica talk almost maliciously about the experiences she’s had with her epilepsy and people making fun of her for it. At the end of the period I turned in to the changing rooms, not noticing when a certain blonde didn’t follow me. 

I had nearly finished changing, wearing now a pair of ripped jeans, a tank top and a pair of heeled ankle boots. I was getting ready to put on my hoodie to cover my scars when I felt my eyes glowing cerulean once again. ‘Erica.’ I thought, rushing to the gym to see Erica almost at the top of the wall, her body beginning to convulse. 

“Scott!” I called, watching as he was there in seconds, ready to catch her as she fell. I would have been able to catch her in my other form but I would be risking revealing myself to too many people. I felt my heart racing at the thought of Erica getting hurt. I knelt next to her and Scott, “Get her on her side,” I told him, helping him turn her.

Erica clutched onto my hand, squeezing whenever she had a convulsion. I looked at Scott, “Thank you,” I told him, not noticing his shock as he looked at me. 

‘Her eyes... were they always that glowing blue?’ He thought.

I wound up accompanying Erica to the emergency room, using a bit of magic manipulation on the teachers and EMTs. A bright light was shining down, Erica was wearing a hospital gown, blinking at none other than my childhood babysitter, Melissa McCall.

I had to stop myself from running to the woman and hugging her, deciding instead to clutch my arms and look down at the floor. “It’s been a while since we saw you, Erica. You were being so good about your medication,” I could tell she hadn’t taken it when I was in her body. It was completely flushed of any meds. 

“Are you going to tell my mom?” She asked, slightly scared, the tone of her voice caused the supernatural in me to look up and look at her in concern. Melissa sighed and spoke up, “I swear I don’t want to. But there’s this team of lawyers in the back who would break my legs and I don’t know if you’ve seen my legs, but for a girl my age they’re still pretty hot.”

I smiled, as did Erica, Melissa smoothed back the girl’s unkempt hair, “The doctor will be over in a few, okay?” Erica laid back on the bed, her hand reaching out to grab my own, I smiled and held her hand gently. “I think that this is a weird start to a great friendship,” I told her, listening to her laugh.

Erica closed her eyes and I almost didn’t realise the hand grasping the gurney, the other attaching itself to the small of my back, pushing me along. “Lie still.” A deep gruff voice said to Erica, and she did so, watching as the gurney was pushed through two double doors. 

I knew at this point that it was indeed the Alpha, leaning back, I caused my body to go completely intangible. I passed through Derek’s hand, not wanting to see this, but slightly looking forward to her change. I knew he would be looking for more Betas, the more Betas, the more powerful the Alpha. It seemed his next Beta was going to be Erica.

Time Skip~

Erica looked and seemed to feel great! I was so proud of her, as long as I could keep her safe, I had no problem with her taking her vengeance this way. Speaking of vengeance. I was going to start Phase Two: Descent into Madness.

I stood outside the house, my old home. I knew he was still there, I knew he still lived there, I was slightly curious as to whether or not he kept my old room. Once again becoming intangible and casting a quick glamour so nobody would see me, I walked through the front door and up the stairs to what was my dad’s old office.

Nothing had changed in there, I could still see paintings that were there when I was little, but there was also a locked box in one of the drawers. Becoming once again tangible, I reached for the box, more specifically, the lock on the box. I closed my eyes and felt myself changing from my human form.

I could feel my wings rip through, yet another, hoodie, my clothes began to change as tears of blood began to flow freely down my cheeks. A feathered bralette covered my chest, feathers also spread around my pelvis to cover me modestly. 

My eyes opened and I knew they were a glowing blue. A small smile flittered onto my face, I felt much more comfortable this way, anyway. I felt the strength coursing through my veins, running towards my fingers, now with long, sharp black talons. The lock that was still in my grasp, began to creak and crack with the sudden force it was being put under, I had hardly flexed my fingers when the lock almost shattered.

I opened the box and looked into it, feeling my eyes tearing up, red covering my vision. I calmed myself down, looking at pictures of my mother and myself, both have been dearly departed. This was all part of my plan.

~~~~~~~~~~

It had been about half an hour, I had made multiple copies of the same image, a picture of my mother and myself, smiling up at my father who was taking the picture, I had placed them everywhere.

Floating outside the window, my wings were enjoying the freedom I rarely gave them and were flapping slowly to keep me in the air. I decided to watch my dear old dad and his reaction to my little message, I felt an evil smirk once again forming on my red painted lips.

3rd Person pov

(f/n) walked up the stairs of his home, his wife and sons were out and he thought he would have some free time before they came home to get some work done. Walking into his office, his face lost all colour, his eyes were devoid of any emotion but shock. His eyes filled with tears as he looked at the smiling faces of his now dead daughter and wife.

He quickly became angry, who knew? He had a feeling someone would eventually find out about what he did, the mausoleum had been destroyed and, even though he had always meant to, he never went back to check that (y/n) had even died. 

Growling angrily, the man began to tear away layer upon layer of photos and images, the same image. The image of the perfect family that had been destroyed, that he had destroyed. He finally began to see the wall of his office again, seeing the wedding photo that he had taken with his new wife merely two years after (y/n)’s death.

He saw red appearing on the wall the more he took down the photos, following the red and continuing to frantically tear at the happy mother and daughter coating his walls in a vicious attack. He felt the red substance on the wall, it was sticky. 

His eyes widened when he finally revealed the message under the wave of evil nostalgia.

“I know what you did, you will get what you deserve.”

(y/n) smirked from outside the window, watching her murderer rub his eyes in fear and confusion. She snapped her fingers and watched the room. (f/n) opened his eyes again, only for the images, scraps of photographs and the bloody writing on the wall to have disappeared...

Time Skip~

(y/n) sat waiting for the Alpha and his Betas in the underground station, still in her more powerful form, her wings were wrapping around her shoulders, concealing her scars from any watchful eye.

The scars came by accident, when she was reborn, she destroyed the mausoleum from the massive influx of energy, the rubble and debris cut up her young self and the rebirthing process was a bit particular about how it made teenage (y/n).

Any cuts or bruises were identical on the ‘new’ (y/n), so when her young body was cut up, (y/n) maintained the same cuts, using her healing to fix it but was left with a severe amount of scarring. Anyway, the strong scent of the Alpha invaded her senses and she looked up, blood still streaming from her eyes.

Derek could smell her intoxicating sweet smell instantly and, even though he was wary and stood in a fighting stance as he saw her, he couldn’t help but be completely entranced by the odd creature with glowing blue eyes. She was hauntingly beautiful.

“Alpha.” (y/n) acknowledged, him nodding in return, still stood to attention. Isaac stepped around his Alpha, an innocent and curious look across his face, “(y/n)?” He asked, causing the strange but gorgeous creature to smile and nod. “What-” He was cut off by Erica pushing by him to hug her best friend, gently stroking her feathered wings in awe.

“I figured now would be a good time to tell you what I was.” She said to the Alpha and his Betas. Looking at one in particular, she walked over to him gracefully and leaned to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m (y/n),” The boy replied saying his name was Boyd. She smiled and nodded, then walked to the Alpha and hit him upside the head.

“What is wrong with you!? Why would you make them fight for you!? In public nonetheless!” She yelled, Derek felt slightly intimidated. “Uh, (y/n)” She heard a bashful Isaac from behind her and turned to face him with a smile, “You said you would tell us, um... What you are?” He said.

(y/n) smiled a devilish but enticing grin, “I’m what’s called an Arae. A female spirit of curses, more specifically curses of revenge made by the dead and sometimes the living for those who wronged them in the past.” She told them, looking at Erica as realisation washed over her.

“You said we had a connection...” She mumbled. The Arae nodded with a pained smile, “I could feel the anger you felt towards the students who hurt you, I felt the same anger towards my father.” She told them, her voice taking a dark turn.

“Ten years ago, my mother passed away, she was killed by... something, I’m not sure what. My father was human, she was a banshee, he didn’t know anything about the supernatural world and I’m sure that if I grew up, I would have been something similar to my mother.” She started her story to be interrupted.

“What do you mean, if you grew up?” Isaac asked.

(y/n) sighed and continued. “When my mother died, my father could hardly stand to look at me, eventually it became too much, he took me to the family mausoleum and locked the door behind me, leaving me to die.” She finished, a wistful look on her face.

Erica gasped and the boys looked horrified. Derek looked up at the Arae with a look on his face and opened his mouth to ask her. “No.” She immediately said. “I refuse to join any pack, I will happily protect you and your Betas, but I am also going to protect Scott and Stiles.”

Feeling herself begin to grow tired, she released her hold on her Spirit Form, feeling her eyes return to their natural (e/c), her wings fading into her back and her feathered clothes disappearing, leaving her naked as she blacked out.

___________________________

I know it has been a while! I am so sorry! I made this chapter slightly longer to atone and you finally know what you are. An Arae! I do have an image of what was described as an Arae, I think it is supposed to be more artistic but I fell in love with it so let me know if you want to see it!

Once again, I love you guys!!! Xxx

[whattodowithkpop]

When The Clock Strikes 12 (Minghao)

A HUGE thanks to @woozisnoots​ for making the banner!! She did an awesome job!

~~~~~

Pairing: Minghao X Reader

Genre: No Romance

Word Count: 2.8K Words

A/N- I used the title: When the Clock Strikes 12 and the AU Assassin + Masquerade. 

I quickly smooth out my black dress, feeling exposed due to its tightness and my unfamiliarity in these types of outfits. I adjust my black, sparkly mask that sat over my eyes, concealing my identity to a point as it shone in the moonlight. I finally reach the double doors that were adorned in gold, towering over any other building in the city. If I wasn’t so focused on my task at hand I would’ve gawked more at the fine details, but I had no such time.

The guards that stood firmly at the door greeted me with a bow to which I returned. One held out his hand, silently asking me for my entry pass. I retrieve the invite from my small clutch, seeing the gold detailing decorating the smooth, thick paper. The guards inspect my invite, nodding as they hand it back to me, stepping back to let me enter the palace.

I enter the palace, all of my senses immediately being bombarded from every angle. The smell of Lilacs flood into my nose, a sense of calm falling over me. The sound of loud chatter and laughter reach my ears, giving my brain some discomfort due to the shrill noises. The rush of cool air reaches my skin, goosebumps rising over my exposed skin that the dress seemed to show a lot of. I see the giant entryway, filled to the brim with marble statues and expensive paintings, each priced over the worth of the palace itself. Even in the dimly lit room I can see the marble floors stretch out across the whole room, even reaching out into the other rooms from what I could see of them. The gold detailing that furnished the door continued their way into the entryway and on the staircase that lead to the upper levels. I knew that the Xu family was rich, but seeing these things with my own eyes really puts their wealth into perspective. I take notes of all these things, filing them to memory as I make my towards the room where all the commotion was coming from. The lights continue to brighten as I make my way through the heavily decorated halls, scanning the areas for anything I needed to remember. I reach the ballroom, my senses being overloaded once again. The crystal chandlers light up the whole room, leaving no dark places in the giant room. Many people were on the ballroom floor, dancing to the soft music that could barley be heard of the laughter from the lords and ladies. Each person’s identity covered by their masks, making it impossible to distinguish who was of royalty and who was not. I suddenly became hyper aware of how much I didn’t fit in with these noble entities that occupied the room. I let out a shaky breath, refocusing on my job. I pull an envelope from my clutch, opening it gently across the seam. A small note was nested at the bottom. I open it gently, reading the cursive handwriting that flowed across the paper.

‘When the clock strikes 12…’

I raise my head, finding the massive clock the hung on the far wall. The diamond hands showing the time to be ‘10:30’. I nod tin acknowledgment, tucking the note back into the envelope and then back into my clutch. I adjust my back, feeling the cold steel press against my skin under my dress. I survey the area spotting a crow’s nest in the rafters, picking that as my spot.

I begin my descent down the staircase, using the railing as support as I walk down the steps carefully in my heels that I wasn't used to. They clicked against the floor, making my approach evident. I reach the floor, trying my best to walk gracefully against the expanse of the room, reaching the platform where the royal family did all of their speeches and announcements. It stood below the large clock, having it’s own diamond accents to match the hands.

As I was running my fingers along the diamond features, a soft voice catches my attention.

“It’s intricate.” The voice states calmly as I twist my body to face him.

A young man stood before me with his hands behind his back as he took in the details of my appearance. His black suit was blacker than any suit I had ever seen, his tie matching the dark suit. His white button down shirt was a crisp white, contrasting against the black nicely and making it enjoyable to look at. In his pocket sat a red and gold pocket square, giving his outfit a pop of color that it didn’t really need but just added to the whole concept. His mask matched his pocket square, the gold mask lay over his eyes being embellished by ruby jewels that were tastefully placed across the mask, disguising his identity effectively. His dark hair was styled nicely, seeming professional but still having fluff to it.

“Indeed it is.” I agree with the man as he steps forward, standing next to me.

“I feel so sorry for the prince.” He mentions suddenly as he looks at the podium.

The prince was being installed upon the throne tonight. His family had suffered tragedy and he is all that’s left of the royal bloodline. He is quite young to become king, having just turned 18 this year he would be the youngest king to rule this kingdom.

“I feel he may not have such a hard time.” I comment, being vague in my response, but having full confidence that my plan would destroy the royal bloodline tonight.

“Why do you say so?” The masked man asks, his body turned towards me.

“I think the prince will take a much needed rest.” I reply, watching the seconds tick away on the clock.

“You’re quite intriguing.” The man notes, facing forward again.

We stand in silence, both of us watching the clock in comfort.

“When will the prince appear?” I ask suddenly, curiosity getting the better of me.

“He is supposed to make an announcement at midnight.” The man tells me. “Are you perhaps looking to court the young royal?”

I laugh obnoxiously, my head falling back at the force of my laughter. “As tempting as that offer is I will pass this time.”

The man smiles at my response, nodding in acknowledgment before facing the clock once more.

The music’s demeanor takes a change, it’s fast paced rhythm slowing to a calm. Everyone begins to pair up, entering the dance floor for the slow dance.

The man looks over to me, his movement catching my attention. He smiles through his mask, out stretching his hand towards me.

“Would you like to dance?”

I stare at his hand for a moment, debating whether or not to accept his offer. After weighing the pros and cons, I decided it would be good to participate in some party activities so as not to draw attention to myself.

“I would.” I smile at him, reaching my hand out to touch his which he grabs mine gently as he leads me to the middle of the room.

He wraps his arm around my waist respectfully, not making me uncomfortable by his touch. His hand keeps a firm grip over mine as I reach my other hand to rest on his shoulder. He smiles down at me as he makes his first movements, moving us gracefully across the floor.

I smile brightly, basking in the feeling of being whisked around across the floor, genuinely enjoying the dance. It felt as if we were being watched by the guests of the party, but my curiosity over this matter was drowned out by the music that was playing softly through the room.

The song comes to an end, our swaying ending with it. The man and I detach ourselves from each other, giving a quick bow to each other.

“I must say, you’re an interesting woman.” He states with a half smile gracing his lips.

“Likewise.” I smile at him mischievously, rather enjoying his company.

I hear the toll of the clock alerting the guests of the part that it was now 11:00. My eyes widen, realizing I didnt have much time left.

“I must get going.” I tell them man quickly, bowing in farewell.

“Take care, my lady.” He bows back.

I past him quickly,  towards the stairs that lead back up towards the entryway. I reach the top just as a microphone’s feedback screeches through the room, alerting the room of the man that stood behind the podium that sat atop the large platform.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” The man greets, prompting everyone to rush to the platform to crowd around the man as close as they could. I blow out a breath of air, feeling relief that no eyes would be on me fore awhile. I quickly exit the room, hugging the wall as I travel through the halls towards the entryway. I could still hear the man’s voice travel through the rooms.

“Thank you all so much for coming tonight.” The man continues. “As you know, tonight is a special night for me as I know take over the title of King.” Cheer and claps erupt from the masses at The Prince’s words.

“The circumstances under which I am receiving this title so early are not pleasant as we all know.” He voice continues as I reach the entryway, saying in the shadows as I ascend up the staircase in the middle of the entryway. “But, as my father before me ran this kingdom with compassion, I vow to do the same.” More cheers erupt, some whistles carrying through the house as well.

I reach the top of the stairs, a long dark hallway greets me there, which at the end, holds my destination.

“At 12 the ceremony will begin, until then, please help yourself to more wine and enjoy the company of one another.” The crowds clap, cheering more at the mention of wine. I continue my path, walking straight to the end of the hall where a window sat. The moon was bright overhead, illuminating the small corner of the hallway I stood in. I walk up to the window, reaching my hands out to open the locks, pushing the window doors outward, letting the cool breeze reach inside the palace. I sigh at the feeling of the cold air against my skin, appreciating the fresh air after being in the suffocating presence of the royals just a floor below me.

I quickly take off my shoes, knowing they would hinder my performance because of their discomfort. I also grab my dress, ripping it at the slit to give me more mobility, the slit now reaching just below indecency. I leave my shoes behind the vase that sat on a table next to the door at the end of the hallway. I knew it wasn’t smart leaving evidence behind, but by the time they realize what has happened and find the shoes, I will be halfway across the world living out my days in hiding.

I kick my leg over the ledge of the window, reaching into my clutch to pull out my hand held grappling hook. It wasn’t the most ideal hook, but in this tight situation, it is going to have to do. I shoot the hook towards the window above, effectively grasping the ledge. I pull it a couple times to check it’s support before I completely push away from the window, my bare feet touching the cold stone that made up the outside of the palace. I gently slide down the side, approaching the window below feeling blinded by the chandeliers brights illumination. I peak through the window, seeing all the previous guests drinking and being merry. I look right below the window, seeing the crow’s nest I had seen from the floor, making me smile at my serendipitous. I wrap the rope around my hand tightly, supporting a majority of my weight on that arm, the rest of it on my leg that had a small grip on the tiny ledge that rested just outside the window. I pull the clip from my hair, twisting and bending it to use it as a pick to break into the lock. I hear the satisfying click, making me smile. I clip the wrecked pin back into my hair, keeping it just in case. I swing my body to the window, carefully balancing on the ledge as I open the window, jumping into the crow’s nest. I sigh out heavily, feeling relief I had made it. I look to the giant clock on the wall, reading the time to be 11:47, making me panic at how long it took me to get to my spot. I reach behind me, grasping the aluminum that was tucked into my dress as I unsheathe the sniper rifle I had, miraculously, hid in my tight dress. I breathe out as I hold the piece in my hands, feeling comfortable with my weapon in my hands after so many hours of discomfort. I take my masquerade mask off my face, the skin around my eyes feeling the cool air begin to dry the sweat that had accumulated over the hours I had worn it. I open my clutch, swapping my mask for the silencer that had waited all night to be revealed. I twist it onto the tip of the gun just before beginning to set up the aim.

I anxiously wait for the final minutes to tick away, for 12 to finally strike so I could take my shot. I watch the Prince emerge from the crowd, stepping up to the podium as the clock reads ’11:58’. The grip on my trigger tightens, my breathing controlled so I could line up the perfect shot.

’11:59’

My finger presses aging the trigger, only needing one small push to send the bullet through the barrel.

“You do stick out like a sore thumb.” A voice startles me just as the clock tolls, announcing 12:00.

I jerk my head towards the voice, seeing the man I had danced with towering over me. I growl in frustration, going back to my scope quickly, trying to get the bullet out of the chamber. The man kicks the gun away, forcing the scope to hit my eye, making me cry out in pain.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong target.” The man speaks again.

I stand quickly, getting defensive just in case.

The man reaches for his his gold mask, his fingers gripping the edges gently as he pulls it from his face, revealing his whole identity to me. My eyes widen as I look into his brown eyes that were barley seen through the light from the moon. I recognized his face immediately.

“You’re the Prince.” I whisper, watching as his lips turn into a smile.

“Please, call me Minghao.” He asks before gesturing to the man who was on stage at this very moment, giving a speech on how thrilled he was to become king. “He is not your target.”

“How?” I ask him, glaring at him, realizing my plan had been foiled before I entered the palace.

“It’s not on you at all.” Minghao tells me, watching my movements closely. “Your “employer” has some dishonest men amongst him.”

“Of course, leaving me to go to jail for it.” I roll my eyes, crossing my arms as I stare at the prince. “You knew when I entered the room.”

Minghao chuckles, his voice bringing comfort in this high stress situation. “I had suspicions.” He takes a step closer to me, his body heat radiating onto mine from his proximity. “Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the sniper under your dress?”

I glare at him, anger seething through me as I watched amusement dance in his eyes. “You think you’ve won, but I will kill you next time.”

“There won’t be a need.” He comments. “Your employer will be jailed for his hit request, there’s no money in it for you anymore.”

“But there’s redemption.” I snarl at him, pushing him with both of my hands as I sweep my leg, effectively causing him to stumble back from me. I jump from the window, grabbing the rope and sliding down it quickly, my hands being burned by friction. I reach the bottom, pulling the hook off the ledge as it falls into my hand. I see Prince Minghao lean over the edge of the window, watching me as I made my exit. I only stare for a moment before running towards the city, traveling through the darkness to hide from any eyes. This was not the last time Minghao and I would meet and I promised to myself that our next meeting, would end with his death.

SEVENTEEN MASTERLIST

[birdwonder]

Could you do a little scenario of the bucci gang where the fem! s/o dies, but then come back as a vampire? ( Can you also make it like a narancia x reader? ) Thank you so much in advance❤

|| call me Bobo the clown because i think i strayed from what you wanted dhjsdj. i dont think i’ve ever written angst properly before so i REALLY winged this but i hope the ending makes up for it! if u wanted smth a lil different feel free to ask again. also i may have made this more Naranacia heavier than Bucci Gang orientated, if that’s ok!

tw : angst but im not good at it ! also death

Narancia Ghirga | I missed you. 

It wasn’t fair.  This wasn’t fair. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. Why did everything bad have to happen to him?! Why was it always him that bad thinks had to happen to?

First his mother, and now you. Narancia couldn’t take it anymore; his heart couldn’t take it anymore. He had thought that he found someone to finally fill that empty place in his heart that was waiting for endless amounts of love and affection, and he did. It was you. 

You did everything and anything to make Narancia happy; laughed at his jokes, danced with him, listened to his interests and horribly rapped along with his favourite songs. All the little things to keep a smile on his face that were the world’s biggest things ever for him. Words alone couldn’t tell you how much he appreciated you - no. Loved you. God, he loved you so much and everyone knew it.

Bucciarati, Fugo, Mista… Even Abbacchio who never cared for romantic things.

Too many hours were spent between Fugo and Narancia over the raven haired male ranting about how wonderful you were, and how when he was old enough and smart enough, he wanted to marry you and treat you everyday as though you were a queen. The blond had seriously had enough at one point, finding the fact the two of you were constantly tiptoeing around your feelings for each other to be almost insufferable - his breaking point being when drawings of you and Narancia standing on top of an enlarged Aerosmith replaced where equation answers should be.

After an hour of pressuring from his younger friend and the Ghirga refusing to even attempt asking you out had passed, he finally caved and decided to try his luck. It was you after all. The best thing that’s ever happened to him, aside from joining the Passione, you could never break his heart!

But you did - and it was his fault, not your’s.

He was so stupid to get attached to you. The two of you were in the mafia, you were gangstars, not two teenagers in a romantic story. It was expected that lives would be lost but Narancia’s naïvety convinced him that the two of you were somehow immortal. That was until you were killed.

You were taken out in cold blood and left just that, the same thing that stained the young gangster’s hands that held your body as he screamed at the sky and God for letting this happen. Why? Why you? Someone, anyone, just tell him why.

It wasn’t just him who mourned either. Fugo held you close to his heart as he did Narancia, seeing the both of you as his two idiots, grateful that you were around to help encourage your mutual friend to try hard in his studies. The moment he found you lying on the ground, lifeless and sprawled out as a pathetic display, hot tears ran down his face as he proceeded to punch a brick wall with enough force to roughen and tear his skin. “I could have helped her! I should have been here!” Fugo yelled to himself, though it was drowned out by Narancia’s blood curdling cries for you to wake up and that he was sorry for not finding you sooner.

Fugo only stopped punching the wall when Bucciarati gently took hold of his wrist, the Capo holding back a look of pain to help support those who he thought needed it more. Inside however, he saw himself as a poor excuse of a leader. You were the helpful kind and always tried to support Bucciarati when the weight of being in charge got to him, and how did he repay you? By letting you be killed.

No one was in high spirits in that moment.

Giorno could only stand a far distance away, silently apologising to your spirit for not being able to have set his goal sooner to stop you from having to meet this fate. Next to him was Trish, who had known for you a far shorter time than anyone else though knew that the two of you could have had a close future while pitying everyone else’s loss. Abbachio failed to even look at you. He was a mixture of pissed and distraught yet failed to show either emotion, keeping his back to you instead. He didn’t have the will to look at his fallen friend.

Unlike everyone else, Mista played a foreign role. He sucked up what he was feeling and consoled Narancia instead. 

He was the one who pulled away the kicking and screaming teen that yelled that you had to be alive. The one that held him close and let his sweater be stained with enough tears to revive a drought ridden river. It hurt but he knew it hurt Narancia more. 

After the shock had subsided, your body was respectfully moved somewhere safe and in the open so you could be found. Time was of the essence and with other Passione members coming after Trish, there was no time for a proper burial that they could attend. 

Everyone had stayed strong after that but there was still a sunken feeling in their hearts; Narancia’s worst of all. 

__

“How… How can you be here?”

The words were quiet and airy when Narancia spoke, his eyes wide and jaw almost dropped when he saw what was in front of him. Specifically, who. 

Free flowing hair whipped in the night’s wind, the shine of moonlight illuminating the figure of someone that the stand user knew too well. You were there, right in front of him in the open as though you had never been murdered in the first place. 

A smile made it’s way onto your lips as you fixed the loose strands, parted lips revealing two prominent fangs that required a double take and a rub of the eyes to be officially accepted. Taking a step forward, you crouched down to caress the cheek of the love of your life who had dropped to his knees from the shock of seeing his deceased crush stand before him.

“No, you’re dead. I saw your corpse, [F/N]! You can’t be here!” Narancia tried to argue though it was truly between himself opposed to him trying to reason to the dead girl walking in front of him. His tears ran down his cheeks, thinking that this was a cruel trick being played on him or an enemy stand trying to get to him. 

“Nari, it’s me, baby,” you assure him, talking to him gently in the same tone you always used for him when he was upset or angry. It was like a child hearing a mother’s lullaby for Narancia. Therapeutic and loving. “I’m back and I’m so, so sorry I left you.”

It was you - it had to be. 

No one could talk to him let that and make him want to leap into their arms, not a single soul would even try to use such an affectionate nickname either or place their hands on him like you would. It really was his [F/N].

Hiccuping from his tears, he let out a wail before throwing himself towards you, arms wide and trying to cover every inch of your cold, paler body, his strength almost making you wheeze. Who could blame him though? He felt as though as soon as he let you go, you’d be gone again. “[N- N/N]! Tesoro! My [F/N]! I, I missed you sooo much!”

Narancia’s gross sobbing only worsened and you laughed a little, rubbing his back slowly in circular motions while your own watery beads started to form, threatening to spill at any second. “Not as much as I have, Nari! You won’t believe what happened for me to get here - I woke up as a vampire! It was all thanks to-”

“I don’t care!” He cut you off. His head lifted to look up a you, a smile and teary eyes meeting your own. “It doesn’t matter how you’re here, I’m just glad you are! I needed you so much and now you’re back so- so, we can go back to doing what we used to! And I can finally tell you, I love you [F/N!]”

The quick paced ramble was a lot to take in for you yet you managed to understand it in no time, your first reaction to lovingly hug Narancia with all your returned might and kiss his forehead. “I love you too, baby, I won’t ever leave you again.” 

[doctorgerth]

May I ask for a scenario/imagine where Cracker meets his (a lot younger and sliiightly shy) girlfriend's parents for the first time but they confuse him for her boyfriend's father and are a bit skeptical of him lol xD? Hope that's okay^^

Cracker is such an interesting character, I love how infatuated you are with him! I know this was supposed to be more humorous, but I went a little sweet towards the end? Hope you like it! x

Cracker Meeting Female S/O’s Parents

Scenario

“Come on, darling. It will be fine.” (Name) reassured her boyfriend for the millionth time today. He was growing impatient, anxious, why did he have to commit to such an insipid arrangement? She acted as if meeting her parents was such a milestone, when in fact he could care less. They were going to marry and she was going to become a Big Mom Pirate anyhow, so why was it so pertinent that he meet them? It’s not like they would become part of the family.

Cracker rolled his eyes at his girlfriend’s reassurances, eyeing her as she grasped onto his arm and offered him her biggest and cutest puppy dog eyes, “Please do this. For me?”

He groaned rather loudly, “Don’t look at me with such needy eyes. You know I fall for them every single time, you little witch.” He offered her a smile finally, pecking her gently among her endearing, pouty lips.

“They’re gonna love you!”

“Of course they’re going to love me. I am only the greatest suitor of them all.”

“Be careful! The other suitors might hear you.” She responded playfully, egging Cracker on to squeeze her tight as punishment.

The travel to (Name)’s home village was hardly long at all, making the trip much easier for the two as Cracker was begging for it to be over with. He would never dare tell her but he was actually quite terrified of meeting her parents. He could easily put on a confident front, but he could only facade the pure anxiety for so long. The age difference between the two was rather questionable, so it was fair to worry about her parents not giving them their blessing. What if they didn’t accept him? She would be devastated and given her rather obedient nature, surely she would try to break it off with him, and he couldn’t have that.

So, once arriving finally at her parent’s door, he decided to put on the utmost mature, solemn, and honorable front he could produce. Surely if he demonstrated how mature he was, they would easily accept him and continue to support their relationship. Parents want their daughter to be with mature men, right?

The door opened and Cracker’s heart was on the verge of explosion. He was sweating buckets in the nice button down (Name) had picked out for him.

“Mom, Dad!” (Name) exclaimed, instantly wrapping her arms around her parents in a great big bear hug.

Cracker stood awkwardly, merely observing the reuniting exchange. The family laughed together and loved on each other for a few more minutes until Cracker intentionally cleared his throat, wanting to get this meeting over as soon as possible.

“Oh, come on in! We’re so happy to have such wonderful guests in our home today.” Her mother smiled, reaching to close the door allowing Cracker to make his way in, “Thank you for coming, Mr. Charlotte.”

“Thank you for allowing me into your home, Mrs. (L/N).” Cracker bowed respectfully, dismissing her formality. Surely he had misheard her while passing through. Nevertheless, the parents seemed so open and inviting? It wasn’t what he had expected but he’d roll with it as long as he could.

“Well, it’s not to meet you sir! Mighty tall!” Mr. (L/N) chuckled while shaking Cracker’s hand, “Wonder if it runs in the family.” He laughed, nudging at Mrs. (L/N). Cracker didn’t like this, he was beginning to feel uneasy, though his girlfriend offered a thumbs up in the background.

“Make yourselves at home! We’ll be in here finishing up dinner.”

(Name) and Cracker made way to the living room, (Name) wrapping him in a loving embrace.

“See? They love you! Just like I thought they would.” She beamed up at him, her arms still secure around him. Cracker was growing increasingly warm, feeling embarrassed having her parents in just the other room, and the way they have been talking to him…

“(Name), I think something is wrong here.”

“Oh, you’re just nervous. Come here, I’ll give you a kiss to make you feel better!”

He rolled his eyes, huffing at her cuteness. For such a shy girl, she really loved to tease him. Nevertheless, he knelt down a little while she reached up on her tippy toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

The sound of a bowl crashing on the floor made the pair jump from each other instantly, eyes averting to the terrified mother standing in the living room.

”(F/N) (M/N) (L/N) what are you doing to that poor man!“ She screeched in horror, causing her father to jump into the disaster.

"What do you think you’re doing to my daughter?!” Mr. (L/N) bellowed. His face was beet red, angrily lashing out at Cracker.

“Dad! Stop, what are you doing?!” (Name) cried, trying to push her dad away from Cracker who was desperately trying to remain calm though his worst fears were unraveling in front him.

“What would your boyfriend think?!” Mrs. (L/N) was cleaning up the mess on the floor while her eyes were shooting daggers at the pair.

“He is my boyfriend!”

Silence.

Everyone just looked at each other. The glare on (Name)’s face, the stunned look in Mrs. (L/N)’s eyes, the rejection in Mr. (L/N)’s eyes, and the pure I-knew-we-shouldn’t-have come look on Cracker’s face made for a really tense atmosphere.

Dinner was quiet, strained. Cracker could hardly eat while being glared at across the table from (Name)’s dad. (Name) picked at her food, discreetly holding onto Cracker’s hand underneath the table for comfort and reassurance.

“So, Mr. Charlotte is your…boyfriend?” Mrs. (L/N) questioned, breaking the silence.

“It’s Cracker, mom. And yes, he is. What else were you thinking?”

“Well given how much older and mature he seems, we assumed he was your boyfriend’s father.” She admitted shyly.

The ‘act mature’ plan really backfired, what a stupid idea! Cracker thought to himself, choosing to remain silent.

“His father? Why on earth would I bring my boyfriend’s father here?!”

“Why on earth would you bring a man three times your age here?” Her father retorted harshly.

“Dad, I-”

Cracker’s hand squeezing hers tight caused her to stop her sentence, looking over at him curiously.

“Mr. (L/N), I admit that there is quite a bit of a gap between our ages, but I assure you, I have no ill intentions with your daughter. I love her and whether you like it or not, she loves me.” Cracker replied, staring stoically at her father who gripped tightly at his cup in rage and defeat, “We took the time to travel this way to achieve your blessing and I plan to leave successful. Allow me to prove myself worthy of your daughter, I will do whatever it takes. I’m strong, capable, and hard-working, all the traits your daughter deserves in a partner. I want to protect her with my life, please allow me to do so.”

(Name) couldn’t fight the tears that brimmed her eyes at Cracker’s sweet words. He wasn’t an overly romantic person, so she wasn’t used to hearing such kind endearments from him. She could tell he was really trying for her sake, and she loved him for that.

Mr. (L/N) looked over to his wife curiously, them exchanging concerned glances, unsure of just what to do or say, “Hurt my daughter, and I’ll have your head.”

I’d like to see you try he thought, “There won’t be any need. I’ll make sure she is happy and content for the rest of her days.”

The rest of the evening and the following morning with her parents was still anxious, but the pair managed to miraculously survive the visit. They loaded the boat with their things, waving off to her parents as what Cracker hoped was a final goodbye.

“That was truly disastrous. Promise me you’ll never put me through anything horrific like that ever again.”

(Name) smiled sweetly up at him, wrapping her arm around his, “I promise. Now, tell me again how happy you’re gonna make me for the rest of my life.”

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Pink + White

anonymous said: Hey lovie, I was wondering if i could get a Ben Imagine where the reader and him are early into their relationship and she has some narly scars on her thigh from some bad teen years and she sreally self conscious about it so she always keeps her legs covered but one day she forgets and Ben sees and asks her about it and is just really sweet and understanding and comforting, please and thank you xxx

TRIGGER WARNING: ALLUSIONS TO SELF HARM

(a/n: not writing smutty ben is... wild to me. anyways pls ignore layout i'm having to do this completely on mobile and it SUCKS. a short, sweet sunday instead of sinful sunday srry hehe)

Your flat smelled of bacon and pancakes, aromatic and purely early-morning scented as you cleaned up your mess from breakfast. It was a Sunday, and you planned on going over to your boyfriend’s to surprise him once you’d gotten a chance to shower and get dressed – after all, it was your one month anniversary today. But, you were craving pancakes and bacon, so of course you had to make yourself some first. If you showed up to Ben’s and hadn’t eaten, he’d probably go full mother mode and try to make you a four course breakfast.

He was such a doting boy, so concerned with your well-being, and he was always constantly checking in on you and making sure you were feeling healthy, loved, and appreciated. Maybe it was in his nature, or maybe he was just making the extra effort to be a good boyfriend, but in any circumstance, you appreciated it through and through.

Sitting the last of your dishes in the drying rack to the left of your sink, you wiped your hands off on the dishtowel before stretching and resolving to head to the shower now. As you were headed down the short hallway to the bathroom, however, your doorbell rang.

“Who in the hell?” you murmured, tugging down your pajama shorts so they covered more leg subconsciously as you walked to the door. When you swung it open, you were greeted by a slightly sleepy, but very smiley Ben. He was holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and you couldn’t help but smile widely and blush at the sight of him. “Ben, I didn’t know you were on your way over!“

“Happy one month!” he replied cheerily, holding out the flowers as he stepped over the threshold into your flat, kissing you respectfully on the corner of the lips before shutting the door behind him. “Sorry I just showed up out of the blue, I got antsy and couldn’t wait any longer.” You took the bouquet from him as he spoke, admiring them before smiling up at him and nearly falling over from the look of excitement on his face. “Do you like them?”

“Love them, Ben,” you replied, going up on your tiptoes to give him a quick, affectionate kiss, then turning to head to the kitchen to get a jar to set them in while you were out today. As Ben leaned against the doorway and watched, you filled the jar with water and hummed happily to yourself, so pleasantly surprised that you completely forgot you were still in pajama shorts.

Since you and Ben hadn’t really gone that far yet – although there had been some makeout sessions that had teetered dangerously on the edge – Ben hadn’t seen you in anything shorter than a knee length skirt. So, when you turned around to bring the vase back over to the kitchen table, Ben was stunned to see the irregularity of the skin on your thighs. He wasn’t appalled, per se, but he was mildly concerned as he ran his eyes over the scars that littered the area.

When you sat the jar on the table, Ben’s eyes snapped back up to yours, and he was relieved to find that you were blissfully unaware of the fact that he’d been staring. Sending you a soft and convincing smile, he held his arms out for you and you giggled as you walked right into them, letting him pull you into a tight hug.

“So what d’you want to do today?” you asked, resting your head on his chest as he swayed back and forth with you, despite the absence of music. Resting your hands on his back delicately, you kissed his chest as you did so, then closed your eyes and nuzzled your face right into where you’d just kissed.

“I was thinking that we could just be lazy for a while, then go out for lunch?” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “M’kind of tired, honestly.”

You grinned at the slightly embarrassed tone he took on as he admitted that, but you decided that a few hours of resting and being turds on a log wouldn’t hurt. After all, it was spent with him, so it was no time wasted. “Your wish is my command.”

“Isn’t that was guys are supposed to say, stereotypically, of course?” he joked in a dimwitted tone, and you rolled your eyes playfully as you pulled away from the hug, tugging him out to the couch.

“Don’t force your gender roles on me.” Ben threw his head back and laughed as you plopped down on the couch, tugging him down with you.

“I’m just joking. It actually physically pained me to say that,” he chuckled, laying down on his side and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close so you were face to face with him. Your leg was propped up around his hip in a non-sexual way as you two began to talk, just rambling on and on about anything under the moon and not really getting much rest at all, despite your initial intentions. But suddenly, when you were talking about some fun high school memories, the conversation took a quick turn into something that made your stomach turn in seconds.

“I mean, I tried to be nice, but I think she really genuinely hated me. I’ve never had a teacher kick me out of class more,” he laughed, his hand resting on your hip and fingertips tracing circles into your skin as you listened, smiling softly.

“I’m sure she was just trying to make a better student out of you,” you countered, and Ben rolled his eyes as he laughed, shaking his head.

“If sending me to the hall for dropping a paper and picking it up makes me a better student, I should have been valedictorian.” A small giggle left your lips, and Ben’s lips curled into a grin as he slid his hand down your thigh. When his thumb grazed over one of the scars on your upper thigh, you could feel your blood run cold, and the look on your face must have said it all, because Ben’s smile disappeared from his face in an instant, his eyes dropping to his hand. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking back up at you after a moment. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“S’ok,” you mumbled, your stomach doing flips as you tried not to cry in front of Ben. Even if it had been years, you were still ashamed of the scars that served as constant reminders you of who you were. You weren’t that same person anymore, but you still had issues seeing past the scars when they were right there, broadcasting to yourself and everyone that you hadn’t exactly had the best teen years. “You didn’t know.”

“I mean, if it isn’t too much to ask,” he replied softly, returning his hand to your hip as he watched you carefully, gauging your reaction, “I’d like to know. But I don’t have to, it’s up to you.”

As his hesitant, curious eyes scanned your face, you were quiet. This was a subject you didn’t know how to breach with him, and it took a lot of courage for you to clear your throat and reach down, taking his hand in yours. “I won’t go into specifics right now, because it’s a lot, but let’s just say I was a different person as a teen. I didn’t have the support I have now, and I didn’t have a wonderful boyfriend who cares about me more than I’d ever deserve.”

“You deserve even more than I can give you, silly,” he gently admonished, kissing your knuckles as you watched him. A sweet, mild smile came back on to his lips, and he squeezed your hand before leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “And I respect that. You can tell me whenever you’re ready. No hurry. Could be today, could be in 50 years, and I’d still adore you.”

“God, why are you so sweet? This is so unfair,” you murmured, laughing once before burying your face in his neck to hide the blush that was on your cheeks, as well as the tears that were threatening to make an appearance. But you managed to hold back the tears, instead pressing a soft kiss to his jaw before nuzzling his cheek. “What factory did they make you in? You’re one of those perfect boyfriend robots. I’ve been set up.”

Ben’s chest rumbled with a laugh as he pulled back to look at you, a fond look in his eyes as he scanned your face once again. “Nope, sorry, no factory or robot. You’re just stuck with regular, plain ol’ human Ben.”

“Stuck with? That’s a load of shit if I’ve ever heard one.” The tone of your voice was almost incredulous as you replied, making Ben laugh again before he squeezed your hand, then let go of it so he could crawl up off the couch and help you up.

“Let’s go get some lunch, yeah? Then you can see again how messy of an eater I am so you’ll believe I wasn’t factory-made.”

Taking his hand when he offered it, he pulled you up to your feet, then let go of your hand as he nodded over to the tiny outcrop just outside a sliding door in your living room that passed as a balcony. You took that as a sign that he was going to take a smoke break, and you nodded before heading down the hallway, but he stopped you after a second.

“Can I pick out your outfit?” he asked, sounding genuinely embarrassed to be asking such a question, but you only grinned, nodding quickly before heading off to the bathroom again.

When you were done with the shower, you wrapped your towel around your head, also wrapping one around yourself before tiptoeing into the bedroom. Ben was crouched down over two different outfits, still pondering when you came in, and the look on his face was almost hopeless as he tried to decide.

“So which one am I wearing, Mr. Fashion Designer?” you asked, looking between the two and marveling at his impressive ability to coordinate. The only catch was that the two pieces he’d picked out for the bottoms were both skirts, and you didn’t recognize one of them. The other, you knew went down to your knees, so it was no problem, but the other one looked like it had probably been gathering dust in the back of your closet for years – it made you wonder if you even fit into it anymore.

“I’ll let you choose, I’m stumped,” he grumbled, seeming upset at his inability to decide, and he stood up to step back and let you take a look at the two.

The skirt that you recognized was a plain black one, and he’d paired it with a striped red tee that had the sleeves rolled up. With it, he’d put a black beret that you barely wore, but it blended well with the theme, and you nodded in appreciation.

The second one was a shorter skirt, and it was a light pink tennis type, probably from years ago. He’d paired it with a simple white button up tee, and as you looked over it, he brought over a pair of white Converse that he’d dragged out of your shoebox. Looking up at him, you smiled softly and took the shoes from him, holding them to your chest as you nodded to the pink skirt. “I’ll wear that one.”

He looked beyond ecstatic that you picked the tennis skirt, and you knew why. As covert as he was trying to be, you knew the tennis skirt was definitely an attempt by him to take a step towards becoming comfortable with what you’d just discussed. It wasn’t too short, like the pajama shorts you’d just been wearing, but it was just long enough to barely reveal anything. So, it wasn’t making you go through baptism by fire. It was a baby step, and you felt your heart do a few flips at the thoughtfulness as Ben picked up the other outfit, putting it back where he’d found it before leaving you in your bedroom to get ready.

The faint smell of smoke left with him, and you stared down at the outfit, taking a deep breath. “Well,” you breathed out softly, picking it up and moving it to your bed as you started to get ready. “Here goes nothing.”

When you finally walked out to meet Ben in your lounge, the look on his face wasn’t anything less than the mushiest affection you’d ever seen. “Ready?” he asked, standing up from where he’d been watching videos on his phone. Nodding, you took one last glance at the flowers on the table, a knowing smile playing at the corners of your lips as you realized they matched the pink of your skirt.

“Ready.”

taglist - @crosmopolitan @just-ladyme @rogerfxckingtaylor @fourmisfitz @shae-is-not-ok @moreinfinite @fruityfreddie @poachedhazontoast @strawberryfields-forever @imladrs @psychoticobsession @ladylannisterxo @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @wanderingsami @stardvstial @iminlovewith-rogers-car @glowungeyes @mercurys-bike @mazzelloplots @beaaatle @sunshine112 @wonderless-screwup

message me/reply to this to be added to the permanent taglist! REQUESTS CLOSED

[hookedonapirate]

The Princess and Her Sultan

Summary: Crown princess Emma of Misthaven is second in line to the throne, her brother Leopold ll being the first, but her parents see her with a future as a great ruler. King Rumpelstiltskin of neighboring land, strikes a deal with King David, promising to uphold the peace between the kingdoms if Emma marries Prince Baelfire. With the promise of his daughter becoming future queen of the Dark Kingdom, David accepts reluctantly.

Before her wedding day, the princess is kidnapped and taken overseas. She is sold as a slave to a palace where Crown Prince Killian of Neverland ascends his father’s throne and is sworn in as Sultan. Meanwhile, Killian’s mother pressures him to sire a prince and presents him with gifts for his birthday, one of them including a blonde princess from Misthaven. Dazzled by Emma’s charm, intelligence and beauty, he summons her to his bedchambers every night and eventually finds himself casting aside his harem and centuries of tradition.  

A/N: Alright, so here’s the deal, the next chapter is finished, so if you lovelies want, I can post it possibly tomorrow? But then I am going to pause this story to work on the next chapter of AHH, so would you want me to post chapter 8 sooner rather than later? I have so much more to cover with this fic so it’s probably a quarter of the way done if that, but I will definitely be continuing this, I just miss AHH and I know some of you have been waiting so patiently for an update. 

Thank you @gingerchangeling for your wonderful suggestions and ideas for this story, and also @ilovemesomekillianjones for gifting me with your wonderful editing skills at. I also want to give a shout out to @onceuponaprincessworld for being my sounding board, constant cheerleader and good friend, thank you, darling! This story wouldn’t be the same without these lovely ladies!

And all of you have been so supportive and awesome, thank you all for following along and for your feedback!

Rated: Explicit

AO3 l FF.N I Prologue l Ch 1 l Ch 2 l Ch 3 l Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6

Chapter 7

Emma awakes the next morning to the sun shining clear and bright through the windows. For a few moments, she has to remember where she is and how she’d gotten there. After rubbing the tiredness from her eyes and allowing her mind to clear from the heavy haze of sleep until it slowly wanes, she remembers the Sultan had rescued her from the dungeon and had taken care of her. He had returned after a while and had stayed with her past the wee hours of the night before he'd left to sleep elsewhere. A smile crawls across her lips. She will not forget how tender, sweet and protective he was with her.

Emma looks around the room, taking in the luxurious surroundings. Though she had been in the Sultan’s bed since the prior night, she had not been feeling well enough or cared enough to take the time to get a good look at her Master’s bedroom. It’s a large room with rich accessories, yet spartan in its furnishings, with high walls, made of blue, orange and viridian mosaic tiles, and multiple windows overlooking the Sultan’s garden and the vast waters surrounding the palace. The center of the room hosts a low table surrounded by multi-colored cushions, and there’s a fireplace shaped like a copper pyramid with a fire glowing softly, a velvet gold divan across the room and a large wooden chest banded in gilded leather near the terrace doors. The square bed where Emma lays rests on a cream colored dais hung with a canopy of gold and red silk brocade curtains, and supported by columns of fluted silver. The quilts and cushions are of rich crimson velvet, each one laced with pearl.

The bedding is warm and soft, and though she wishes to remain wrapped up in the cocoon of blankets and pillows, she also does not want to overstay her welcome, so she pushes herself out from underneath the covers, the bottoms of her bare feet reaching a soft rug. She stands and slowly stretches her limbs before making her way across the room. She had been bathed and her clothes had been changed, so she’s now wearing a long, ivory colored, silk nightgown. There’s a pale pink robe sprawled over the edge of the bed she assumes is for her, but she decides she will wait to be offered the clothing. She will no longer test the limits of her place in the palace. If she is to rise through the ranks of the harem hierarchy, she will obey the rules and she will wait to be invited and offered things rather than behave and act how she pleases. She knows it will be difficult, but it’s something she must do.

Before Emma can reach the double doors to knock, they spring open, and Mother Superior enters with a large tray of food, the wonderful smells wafting into the room.

“I see you are up,” the petite woman says with a small smile. “Are you feeling better, my child?”

Emma nods and offers a smile in return. “Yes, I am, thank you.”

The Kalfa places the tray on the low table as Emma's eyes widen at the array of food. “Who is this for?” she asks as Mother Superior offers her the robe. Emma inserts her arms in the sleeves, and the other woman drapes it over her shoulders.

“Why it’s for you of course. The Sultan wants you to eat well.”

Emma reverently kisses the back of her hand and presses her forehead to the same spot. “Thank you.”

“You mustn't speak of this to the concubines of the harem,” Mother Superior chides gently, but even a scowl on her face looks soft, showing the kindness underneath her stern facade. “If they heard you were having breakfast in the Sultan's bedchamber, they would lose their minds. We’ve already had to sweep word under the rug that you were sent to the dungeon for sneaking off from the harem. If everyone knew, they would all want to break the rules of the harem with the hopes of the Sultan taking care of them.” Her voice is firm, yet her eyes hold a twinkle of amusement.

Emma bows her head. “I am sorry, Mother Superior, it will not happen again.”

“Say no more, my child, and eat so you can get healthy and strong again.”

Emma obliges and sits on one of the cushions at the table, starting to eat her breakfast, but her eyes are much bigger than her stomach. Nevertheless, she savors the taste of the food, devouring each morsel she can afford in her belly.

When she decides she cannot possibly eat another bite, the doors open and the Sultan passes through the threshold. Emma quickly rises and bows her head.

“How are you feeling, my swan?” he asks in a gentle voice.

“Much better, thanks to you, My Sultan.”

He strides over to her, gently lifts her chin and plants a kiss to her forehead. Emma’s skin tingles and warms at the soft touch of his lips. He draws out a long sigh of relief, his quivering breath fanning her forehead. “I’m glad,” he whispers softly.

“But, I’m occupying your space. I shall leave, Your Majesty.” Emma curtsies and waits for him to excuse her, but he gently takes her arm in his hand to keep her from leaving.

“Wait, love, don't leave yet,” he pleads, his voice cracked. “We must finish something, first.”

Emma cocks a brow at him. “And what would that be, My Sultan?”

Killian grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he extends his hand to her. “Follow me.”

Emma eyes him warily, and slides her hand into his, allowing him to lead her to the adjacent room, which is his study. It dawns on her what he wants to finish, he wants her to finish her turn.

“It would be bad form not to finish the game, love.”

She lets a small laugh spill from her lips and takes a seat while Killian takes the chair across from her.

Before, Emma had to think about where to go next, but now it's clear as day. She moves her queen but does not take his king.

Killian’s brows wrinkle in confusion. “I have allowed you the path to my king, why do you not take it?” he asks softly.

Emma answers easily. “Even as a princess, I never took what was not mine. The same rings true with chess. I will not accept a win I have not rightfully earned.”

Killian nods. “Very well then, my swan.” He follows his statement by placing his hand on the white king and lays it down gently on its side. “I shall resign respectfully then,” he says with a smirk.

Emma's eyes widen at this. How could a Sultan of all people give up his position so easily, even if it is just a game? “You surrender your king to me, My Sultan? But why?”

“Because, my swan, if I had not, we would be dancing around each other for hours to come, and I'm afraid my imperial duties will not allow it.”

Emma has to hold back a laugh at his logic. “Fine, I win this time, but there shall be a rematch another time, of course, if My Sultan allows it.”

Killian nods, a warm smile gracing his lips. “I shall. For now, I will let you get back to your quarters.” Emma rises from the chair, and Killian gently places a hand on her shoulder. “Just promise me one thing, love...”

“Anything you wish, my Master,” she says loyally, staring into his cerulean eyes. She can see the warm gaze he offers her but she also detects the storm brewing within those stunning blue depths, his features clouding with worry. But even with a grave expression, he is still the most handsome man she's ever seen.

“Take care of yourself in the harem. I don’t wish any harm to you, but despite my position in the palace, not everything is under my control.”

Emma nods in understanding, his words crystal clear to her. He fears anyone he loves will receive the same fate Milah did. She bows her head. “I promise, Your Majesty, I will not leave the harem unless you request it so.”

Killian lifts her chin again. “What have I said about bowing your head to me?” he asks in a gentle voice.

A small smile tugs at her lips. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”

The Sultan grins playfully, his cheeks coloring with rosy red. “You are forgiven. Now return to your quarters until I summon you.”

Emma’s green eyes widen in surprise, her mouth slightly falling agape.

Killian's grin only stretches wider across his face, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, my swan. I made a promise to you and I plan on keeping it.” He lifts her hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

Emma flushes, gracing him with a coquettish smile. “I shall wait for you patiently, My Sultan.” With that, she curtsies once more and leaves him.

She hurries to the harem, where she is greeted exuberantly by her waiting friends.

“Oh, Emma, I am so glad you are okay!” Elsa cries out, drawing Emma into a hug. “We were so worried.”

Anna and Merida take turns hugging her as well, and they sit on the couch to chat.

“Can you keep a secret?” Emma asks them, making sure there is no one within hearing distance. Mother Superior had warned her, but Emma knows she can trust her three friends.

The three girls nod. “Of course.”

Emma speaks quietly. “They kept me in prison for leaving the harem, but I am fine now,” she assures them. “The Sultan rescued me and brought me to his bed to take care of me.”

Elsa's eyes widen. “Oh my, we were told you were ill, but the dungeon sounds worse.”

“Were you afraid?” Anna asks in concern.

“No, and if I were, Mistahavians do not show their fear.”

“Did you really get to sleep in the Sultan’s bed?” Elsa asks.

Emma laughs. “Yes, but he did not join me. It was not exactly the ideal circumstance.”

“Still, the Sultan himself took care of you, that is something,” Elsa gushes. “He must have been very impressed by your chess skills,” she says sarcastically, but at the same time, she’s donning a smile. “I knew you had seen him before, the pool must have been great, but only a man could put a smile on a woman’s face, like the one you wore that day.”

Emma blushes and offers an apologetic smile. “I really wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know if I should.”

“It’s okay, Emma, I’m not mad, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“So, the Sultan took care of you, tell us what it was like?” Anna urges, her eyes buzzing with curiosity.

Merida, on the other hand, rolls her eyes. “Who cares? The Sultan does not impress me. I will never want to trade places with you, Emma.”

Elsa gasps at the redhead. “What have I told you about saying such things about our master?”

Merida’s eyes widen at Elsa. “You, the would-be queen of Arendelle addressing a man as your master, you should be ashamed of yourself! You all should be. Just because he is handsome, does not make him a good man.”

“But he is,” Emma snaps defensively. “I have spoken with him in person. He is like no other Sultan we have ever heard of. He is kind and gentle, you must not speak of him as a lesser man. You should be proud to be his gedikli.”

Merida scoffs. “The three of you have already been cast under the Sultan’s spell. He will take all of us one by one and then turn us against one another.”

“We made a promise to always be friends,” Elsa reminds her. “Besides, I have no interest in the Sultan. He is handsome and kind, yes, but I am content with sitting and watching from the sidelines and experiencing the Sultan through Emma. And as for Anna, another man already has her heart, Kristoff, right sister?”

Anna nods, her face growing solemn. “Yes. Though I will never see him again, he will always have my heart.”

Emma sighs in relief. “Oh, I am so glad, I feared you all would hate me for catching the Sultan’s eye first.”

“Of course we don’t, Emma,” Anna assures her. “We love you no matter what, and we have no intention of betraying our promise to one another.”

Elsa nods in agreement. “Please, do not be afraid. If you adore the Sultan, do not be deterred. You deserve to be happy.”

“As do the three of you,” Emma says, though she cannot tell them how she wishes them to be happy. As much as she wants to, she cannot tell them that in the future they will be freed as slaves and sent back home; if word gets out that Emma is planning to rule the empire and make changes, then anyone with any seniority in the palace would turn against her.

“We are just glad to see you well and happy,” Elsa says, and Emma can feel her eyes prick with tears.

Emma hugs them again, including a reluctant Merida, who is still holding on to the resentment Emma had felt in the beginning, but the redhead also wants Emma to be happy, so she agrees to hold her tongue for Emma’s sake. When Emma turns her head away from her friends, she can't help but notice a blonde woman she’s never seen before, shooting her a death glare from across the courtyard. “Who is she?” Emma asks her friends quietly.

Elsa turns her head to see who Emma’s referring to. The silver blonde frowns. “Oh, don’t mind her, she took your place for the ceremony, but the Sultan frowned in disappointment when he saw her,” Elsa laughs, remembering vividly the expression on his face when Bellina's identity was uncovered.

Emma has to suppress a smile at that. “Really?”

“Yes, I don't think he meant for anyone to see, but he was definitely frowning, and at the time we did not know it, but he was disappointed because she was not you.”

This makes Emma’s heart sing with joy. And here she had spent that entire time in her cell worried he would find another maiden, but instead he had charged out of the Imperial Hall enraged because she was not there to dance for him.

Before Emma can comment, the double doors fly open and Nemo appears, clapping his hands together. The chatter stops and they all stand as the Chief Eunuch approaches Emma. “Gather your belongings, my lady,” he says with a small smile. “Our Majesty has named you as his favorite and has requested you be moved out of the dormitory and to your own apartment.”

Emma gasps in shock. Though she knows he will summon her, she can’t believe the Sultan has made the decision to make her his favorite already. She has been to his bed, yes, but she has not yet given her maidenhead to the Sultan yet. She decides not to question it any further though.

Instead, she rejoices with her friends, and they chatter in excitement as a few attendants move Emma’s things upstairs to her own room. As Emma ascends the stairs to the Apartment of Favorites, she can’t help but notice the blonde woman glaring at her in disgust and walking away. Panic ripples through her. If word gets out about the actual circumstances that had led to the Sultan naming Emma as his favorite, she knows the blonde and the other concubines will start gossiping about how she had gained the Sultan’s favor by breaking the rules. She still doesn't know how the Valide Sultan found out about that. But Emma is confident she would’ve gained his favor no matter what.

She shakes off the negative thoughts and explores her new quarters. There is a large sleeping couch hung with green, silk curtains, a fireplace glowing with small flames on the other side of the room and a pair of double doors which lead to a private terrace where pretty birds chirp in their cedar cages, and the balcony overlooks the sea, She even has use of her own bath with a cascading fountain of scented rosewater, and is allowed her own gedikli as her maid. She chooses Elsa, whom Emma knows will be more than delighted to take the position. Excited about these turn of events, Emma dances blithely around her private apartment, laughing and twirling around like she is five years old again.

“I take it you are feeling much better?”

Emma stops suddenly, feeling dizzy as the room stills. Her eyes widen as they land on Kira, who appears with an attendant, carrying some folded red fabrics. Emma immediately folds her hands together, bowing her head.

“Yes, I am, thank you for asking, My Sultana.”

“Very well. My son has requested your presence this evening. You have two hours to prepare.”

Emma lifts her head, her eyes wide. She’s not surprised he has called upon her, but she’s surprised his mother has come to deliver the message personally, after throwing her in the dungeon.

Kira extends her hand offering a silk, red handkerchief to Emma. “He has asked me to give this to you as a symbol of his affection.”

Emma accepts it, her eyes still wide with disbelief. She takes the Sultana's hand, kissing the back of it before pressing her forehead to the same spot as a gesture of respect. “Thank you so much, My Sultana.”

“I did not decide this, my son did,” she mutters resentfully. “All I ask is that you present yourself as a Neverland lady should and do not do anything to displease my son. Your manners must be flawless.”

Emma nods. “Of course.”

Kira reminds her of a few more details for when Emma enters his chamber. “Custom demands you show your obeisance by prostrating yourself upon entering the room and touching your forehead to the rug, is that understood?”

Emma knows very well of these things already. Nemo has taught her and the gediklis well. “Understood, My Sultana.”

“Very well.” For the first time since Emma's been to the palace, she can detect a hint of a smile curving Kira's lips, pleased to hear Emma's compliance.

Emma's facial expression is impassive, but she is grinning on the inside. She now knows the key to the top of the hierarchy is not only to please the Sultan, but to appease his mother as well.

Kira waves her head toward the fabrics. “My son has requested you wear these garments he has gifted you, and prepare to dance for him. When the time has come for my son to take you to bed, the Eunuch will divest you of your clothes and depart. Then you are to approach the edge of the bed, take the corner of the coverlet in your hand and first press it to your forehead and secondly to your lips. Only then are you allowed to enter his bed. Do so by climbing up from foot until you are on your knees and level with the Sultan.”

Emma has to suppress a smirk since she has already entered his bed, and instead she nods respectfully and listens to the Valide Sultan. Although, she hopes Killian does not actually make her humble herself in such a debasing way.

“Come now, I will escort you to your private bridal bath.”

Emma smiles and follows behind the Valide Sultan, admiring the handkerchief in her hands. According to Neverland culture, an ornate handkerchief is a high compliment, and the one her Sultan has gifted her is very elaborately decorated. It’s embroidered on all four sides with a thick border of gold thread, small seed pearls and intricate designs. She kisses the handkerchief and touches her forehead to the fabric reverently as Kira tells Emma to take good care of it, for it shall be a reminder of her and the Sultan’s first night together. She also tells Emma if she does everything Kira tells her, the Sultan will invite her to his bed again.

Emma has to smile, and not only because she knows this will be just one of a thousand nights she will spend with the Sultan, but she also smiles at the irony of it all. Kira is the one who had sent Emma to the dungeon so she would not be presented to the Sultan, and now Kira is escorting her from the Apartment of Favorite’s to her son’s bed while advising her how to please him. It will only be a matter of time before Emma is pulling the strings of the palace as the Sultan’s wife.

As the Valide Sultan babbles on, Emma’s sweet smile borders on malicious. She is confident knowing Kira will the rue the day she tossed Emma into the dungeon.

Tagging: @andiirivera @kingofmyheart14@courtorderedcake @teamhook @onceuponaprincessworld @nikkiemms @followbatb @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @snowbellewells @artistic-writer @ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @lovepurplepumpkins @kiwistreetswan @therooksshiningknight @deathbycaptainswan @tiganasummertree @superchocovian @emeraldwitches

[theflashfics]

First Time // Cisco Ramon

Pairing: Cisco Ramon x reader

Summary: Y/N and Cisco have their first time.

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 2095

Requests: Closed

You had never done it before. It being sex. Which was quite embarrassing for you, even if it shouldn’t be. Your boyfriend Cisco had been extremely patient with you: the furthest you’d gone was only making out heavily on your apartment couch. You felt bad. You knew everyone has their needs and you knew Cisco would never pressure you into satisfying his, but you felt it was time. So, one night in your apartment, you initiated it yourself. “Hey, babe,” you said, standing up abruptly from the couch. Cisco walked through the apartment door with his computer bag and kissed you on the cheek, placing his keys down on the kitchen bench. You took a deep breath in and wandered up to Cisco. He turned around and flinched, seeing you right in front of him. “Is everything ok, kitten?” He said, cocking his head. You stood on your tip toes and placed a sloppy kiss on his lips which he reciprocated appreciatively. “I-” You paused briefly, then continued with newfound confidence.

“I’m ready.” You said, looking up to Cisco with lust blown eyes. His own brown ones widened considerably. “Are you absolutely sure?” He said, his hands finding yours. You reached up again to press your lips to his. “Definitely,” you mumbled against him, dragging him to your bedroom. You pushed him down onto the bed and playfully climbed on top of him. He managed to get his shirt off and you threw it to the side, placing kisses on his jaw. “Someone’s eager,” he chuckled, then flipped you over so he was on top. His mouth found yours and he flicked his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You allowed, letting him explore your mouth and you doing the same. His hand snaked up your shirt, respectfully landing on your stomach. You giggled against his lips. His mouth began trailing down your neck, making love bites. They emitted small gasps from you and he made his way back up to your lips. You pressed kisses to the corners of his lips and felt a squeeze underneath your left breast which brought you to the realisation that you had never really done this before.

“Cisco, wait,” you protested, putting a hand on his chest. Cisco frowned and took his hand out from under your shirt, placing it beside you on the bed.  “Is this okay? I know we haven’t done this before and I want you to be as okay with this as possible but if you don’t want to do it now then it’s totally fine. Don’t even worry about it.” Cisco smiled fondly at you, but your expression still read worried. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and nibbled it nervously. What if he didn’t want to do it with you after you told him you hadn't done it before? “Hey, what’s up?” Cisco murmured, taking hold of your hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb on your knuckles. “I-” You hesitated, then took a deep breath and shook off your doubts. “I’ve never done this before, Cisco. I’m a virgin.” You sighed, shutting your eyes. When you reopened them, he stared at you breathlessly, his eyes glittering. “Y/N-“ “It’s okay, if you don’t want to do it with me anymore,” you said hastily, trying to sit up on the bed. “No, no, no,” he reassured you, placing his hand on your shoulder and gently pushed you back down onto the mattress, “I’m really glad I get to be your first. That is, if you want me to be.” 

You nodded, and squeezed his hand. Cisco grinned lovingly and dipped his head down to press his lips against yours. You reciprocated softly, taking his face in your hands. His lips trailed down your face, placing light kisses on your jawline, chin, neck. “So, exactly how far have you gone with anyone before,” he murmured against your neck. “Just as much as I’ve done with you,” you hummed. He gave you a playful bite and you squealed, tangling your fingers in his hair. You tugged gently on his dark locks and he moaned; the sound was like music to your ears. Quickly, you pushed him off you once more. “Second thoughts?” He asked, frowning. “I’d say the opposite,” you winked, reaching to the hem of your shirt and pulling it off. You attempted to be sexy and seductive, but the neck hole got caught on your ear and you ended up having a wrestling match with your vintage Metallica shirt. Though, Cisco didn’t seem to mind as he watched you throw the tee to the side and unclip your bra. It fell loosely and was discarded with your shirt. 

Cisco’s eyes raked your torso, making you feel hot under his brown doe eyes. Your arms went to your chest and you began blushing furiously. He laughed and pulled your arms off you gently. “You’re so, so gorgeous,” he breathed out, “Remember that.” “I- thanks,” you smiled. He stared at you. Thinking he wanted you to return the compliment, you gestured wildly at his bare torso. “And you are so handsome.” Cisco laughed and pushed you back down onto the mattress. “You're cute when you’re flustered.” “Well, if I’m flustered, you’re excited,” you said softly, glancing suggestively at the tent in his pants. Cisco looked down at himself and smirked. “You’re about to be a hell of a lot more flustered soon.” His lips returned to your neck and he pressed his body against yours. You were acutely aware of his bulge against your heat and you rolled your hips upward eagerly. “Excited, huh,” he smiled, making love bites on your collarbone. You didn’t reply, only once again taking your bottom lip between your teeth, and feeling yourself getting damp through your panties.

Cisco’s mouth kept getting lower. His lips ghosted your breast and he glanced up at you for consent. You nodded frantically, urging him on. “Please,” you whined and you intertwine your fingers in his hair again. Cisco took your actions as a good sign and was all of a sudden taking your breast in his mouth, sucking on the soft skin. His hand went up to your other breast and massaged it gently. He was taking it slow and glanced up every now and then, making sure you were okay with the whole ordeal; you moaned in affirmation. His hands held your hips as he took your other breast in his mouth. He rolled your nipple between his teeth and you gasped. Not long after that, his lips moved lower. Kisses were pressed down your stomach, on your delicate hip bones, the outside of your thighs, then to your inner thigh. He licked small circles where your thigh met your hip. You felt a finger tugging at the hem of your panties and you took a glimpse of Cisco who was looking up at you again for affirmation. “May I?” He teased, but still waited for your nod. “Yes, please,” you took his hand in yours and slipped it under the thin cloth.

“You’re so wet for me, kitten,” he bit his lip and ran his fingers up and down your folds, “I must be incredibly sexy for you to get like this.” “Beginners luck,” you said breathlessly. Cisco shook his head and grinned at you, then slid your drenched panties down your legs. You shimmied out of them and they were on the floor in a second. The brown-haired male’s eyes swept your full naked form in all its glory, his fingers rubbing circles on your inner thigh. “Like what you see?” You taunt lightly, but you could still feel goosebumps rising on your skin. You bit your lip and follow Cisco’s gaze as it trailed from your heat to your chest to land on your face. “You’re nervous,” he remarked softly. You nodded in response. “Don’t worry,” he smiled up to you, “I’m gonna treat you really well, kitten. You’re gonna feel reeeeaally good.” His gentle smile was replaced with a cocksure grin. “And also, yes. I love what I see.” With his eyes on you, his head dipped down and licked a long stripe from the bottom of your heat to your clit. Your head dropped back and you let out a breathy moan. 

This was the first time anyone had been near these private parts of your body. You’d fantasized, sure, but this was different. Better. Cisco’s brown eyes saw your response and licked once more, teasing. He waited a few moments and looked at your pleading eyes staring back at him. “Cisco,” you whined, your muscles tense. He placed a chaste kiss to your clit and you whimpered. Cisco saw your reaction and knew teasing wasn’t getting him anywhere. You needed this. You had been waiting for so long and you were all of a sudden impatient. “Please, Cisco. I need you now.” Cisco complied and buried his face between your legs, licking and sucking vigorously at your sensitive heat. Your hand flew to his head, gripping onto his hair and the other hand clutching the headboard for support. The feeling was euphoric. You could already feel your first climax building up inside your stomach. Cisco’s mouth suctioned on your clit and pushed you over the edge. “Cisco!” You let out a cry and rolled your hips upwards into his mouth, letting your orgasm wash over you.

Cisco lapped up your pleasure and came up to kiss you gently. You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. “You were so good,” you mumbled between kisses, “I feel so good.” Cisco flicked his tongue against your bottom lip and you giggled. “You’re wearing too many clothes for me to lose my virginity,” you teased lightly. Cisco jutted his chin out and peeled himself of you, then pushed his jeans down, his boxers coming down with them. His erection slapped up against his stomach. You took a sharp intake of breath at the girth of him and found yourself wondering if it would even fit. He noticed your wandering expression, and his eyes crinkled into a smile. “It’s okay if you’re having second thoughts,” he said sweetly. You shook your head. “I want this,” you said firmly, pulling at his hand. Cisco quickly rolled on a condom and climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself at your entrance. You bit your lip at the physical contact; you were already gone. 

“Kitten,” he rasped, “Are you ready?” You could feel his tip sliding up and down your dripping folds and you looked up to him. You pulled his face down to yours and pressed your lips to his in a meaningful kiss. “Yes, I’m ready,” you smiled at him. Cisco slowly entered himself into you. There was a dull, searing pain as he pushed himself into your core. Cisco distracted you by placing kisses to your neck and whispering in your ear: “It’s okay,” “I’m here,”. Slowly but surely he thrust into you, pausing when he was fully inside you. You let out a long breath and bit down onto his shoulder. “Do you want me to keep going,” Cisco said softly. You nodded frantically and gritted your teeth as he pulled out and thrust back into you. Soon the pain subsided and was replaced with pleasure. “Faster, please,” you moaned softly. Cisco complied, moving with a faster speed. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and groaned loudly. You could feel your second orgasm creeping up on you.

“Oh my god! I’m so close!” You threw your head back, Cisco consistently hitting your g-spot which you had just discovered you had. And it felt so good. “Yes, kitten,” he grunted, “Come with me.” You felt the knot tighten in your stomach and clutched the headboard behind you. “I’m coming!” You cried out, clamping your eyes shut. Cisco nodded frantically and felt your walls tighten around him. His thrusts began to become sloppy and his breaths heavy. You came together, his hot seed coming out into the condom and you gasping desperately, trying to control yourself. Cisco let you ride out your high, slowing his thrusts then pulling out of you. He slid off the condom and threw into a nearby trash can. He flopped down next to you on the bed, his panting breaths matching yours. “That was,” you said between breaths, “Incredible.” Cisco looked at you lovingly and left a lingering kiss on your lips. “I’m glad,” he mumbled.

[royal-writer]

But I love you

A bunch of ideas I stitched together into the fabric of one story. There ya go.

-

It was a different world. Larger, colder; it left her feeling small. Prey to the predators. Insignificant. Everyone standing around here was dripping with dignity and class; with enough esteem and reputation to line museums with stature. There was not enough of her to fill even the corner of the room. She was not enough.

In these halls, blood was power. Although Essätha’s held a different kind of power; simmering with the old dark magic of Shadowfell, it was not the same thing. The elite in these chambers were bred from blood of the wealthiest, the wisest, the most powerful and influential individuals in history. They were people who were born and raised to carry their voice, to weld a sword, to stand tall and firm. Their authority was without doubt. Most of them knew and accepted their place in history, and in the world.

This was no place for her kind. Not for her. Her posture was not quite right, her tongue not trained for these conversation. She came from nothing. She was nothing.

In the heavy blanket of her smothering unease, others tried to start the fire beneath her broken confidence, with little success.

“They’re just people like us,” Abernathy reminded her. “Their status doesn’t make them better.”

“Come have a glass of wine,” Adela offered. “It’ll help ease your worries.”

“I can stay with you,” Sul had offered.

“Don’t hold yourself back because of how you look,” Penimra scoffed, waving a gloved hand as he sighed, “No one here will openly mock you. They’re raised to hold their gossip to private parlors with friends, so you’re safe from public ridicule.”

Essie turned them away, one by one. The more they hovered, the more she could feel the wandering curious eyes draw towards a crowd. The very last place she wanted was to be in the center of anyone’s attention.

As her eyes trailed upon Ravamora fawning over someone’s gemstone-embed attire with a star-struck Pri’cha, the Yuan-Ti woman nibbled anxiously on her lip. She was the only one who looked out place here. Everyone else transitioned smoothly into the crowd, but not her. No matter how much makeup and expensive jewels and fine clothes you put her in, you couldn’t cover up the dirty, frightened, inadequate woman inside.

Relief would be the wrong word to use, when she caught sight of the dark eyes covering her. It was a dark shroud, and for only half a second, she’d all but forgotten the crowd. The charming, regal smile that went along with it made her produce a half-hearted reply. Her lips stretched into a shaky, thin returned smile as he approached, two flute glasses filled with bubbly liquid inside.

She dipped her head respectfully as he approached, murmuring, “M’lord.”

Amon’s grin grew almost giddy. “I thought you could use a refreshment.”

Offering a less than convincing ghostly smile, she accepted the beverage. Adela had been easy to turn down the few times she’d insisted on bringing over something. Although Essie could tell herself she was only accepting the nobleman’s out of respect for his stature and not wanting to draw him humiliation, her heart knew it was certainly more to do with disappointing him. It would be a shame to put a damper on such a soft, heavenly smile.

“It’s a fruity blended medley,” he explained. “Pomegranates, blackberries, apples, and pears. I thought you might prefer this, over the brandy they’re serving. Unless you’d rather-”

She placed a hand lightly upon Amon’s forearm to pause his strangely nervous rambling. He came to an abrupt halt, his gaze passing from where she touched him to her face with an impassive expression, as though he was hiding something.

“The mead is fine M’lord Amon, thank you,” Essätha whispered; adding on teasingly, “You know what I like.”

To her surprise, his face glowed pinkish as he relaxed his posture. He seemed to mull for a hesitant few seconds on what to say next, before finally exhaling brightly, “If you’re willing, Essie, there’s some people I’d like to introduce you too.”

Her grasp tightened upon the intoxicating sweet drink while she took a sip to buy time.

“Okay.”

Beaming from ear to ear, the nobleman offered out his arm to her. Not light could compare to how radiant he appeared; how picturesque and softly haloed his face was. Each strand of hair seemed to be highlighted from behind, and the angles of his face tilted enough to show the hills and valleys that peaked and rose around his cheeks that met the twinkle of his eyes.

Her hopes however, were dashed. She’d prayed he would bring this guest to her, but it seemed she would have to traverse the field of mines.

Delicately, Essätha rested her hand against Amon’s arm to allow him to lead her through the throng. She cursed her anxious grip, which tightened as the heat of bodies pressed close and smell of alcohol on lingering breathy laughter surrounded her. The intelligent part of her knew better, but a small part of her brain couldn’t help but feel they were laughing at her.

She turned her eyes up to the Illiad, and noticed the lingering way his gaze fell upon her, and then to the crowd in intervals to make sure they weren’t going to run into anyone.

Her heart stalled. How was it he always seemed to know what she needed, even when she didn’t voice it? Even when she didn’t know she needed it.

The reassurance of his eyes continued a looping path, back and forth a few times, until they were approaching two ladies and a gentleman chatting only a few degrees from the center of the room. The chandelier hanging overhead made this area particularly bright and unwelcoming. Essie had to resist squirming or latching further on to Amon like a leech for support and guidance.

“Lady Yaereena, Lady Sasha, Master Khrono,” Amon warmly interjected, offering a grand bow of his head. “My apologies for the interruption. This is the woman I wanted you all to meet.”

The trio turned their attention upon them.

“Oh, i’s no problem Master Ay’mon,” one of the women purred in a foreign accent. Her eyes flickered to Essie; a deep brown that countered her pale complexion. To contrast just how fair her skintone actually was, she wore a startling shade of raspberry red, with a lip stain to match, and allowed her dark hair to fall down her back.

She offered out a hand politely. “I am madam Sasha. Oi must be the misses Essätha Meduza the Bearmas’ah keeps going on about, no?”

Dizzily trying to hold her breath, Essie cast a sideways glance towards Amon. He’d been talking about her?

“That I am,” she awkwardly responded, taking the lady’s hand.

“Pleasure to meet ya, young lady,” the man piped up, extending his hand next. He had eyes so light blue they were nearly silver. His age was clearly beginning to catch up to him; as both the shadow of his thin beard and hair were beginning to have the same edges of silver and there was crepe areas and rough textures to his pale skin. He wore a sharp, pressed outfit of black and red attire, and had tiny points on his protruding ears.

Taking his hand, and then finally, the last Lady’s, Essie tried not to stare too hard at the woman. Lady Yaereena was enchanting; hair blonde and golden as the sun and dark hazel green eyes. Splashed across her face was a birthmark; varying in hues of a deep reddish-orange to brown. She had tired shadows beneath her eyes. She was physically more built than the other two, with very obvious elvish ears standing erect, and wore deep burgundy gown with a hint of brown to stand out against her olive skin.

“Lady Yaereena is quite shy, you’ll have to excuse her,” Khrono chuckled as the bashful woman’s cheeks flamed red.

Essätha offered a supportive smile, the best she could despite her own timidness. “It’s nice to meet you all,” she offered, automatically drawn to the timorous one. “I like your dress.”

“Thank you. Yours is n-nice too.”

Yaereena grew more flush from her stuttering. Essätha pitied the poor woman; edges of her own fear sanded down by her compulsive desire to bring an eased atmosphere to the area to calm her. Dipping her head respectfully, she murmured, “Thank you; the emerald color would look splendid on you too.”

“Oh, t-thank you,” Yaereena shyly replied. “I do have a j-jade at home I’m rather fond of…” She tried to self-consciously turn her face away, although no amount of concealment was going to add enough shadows to hide her birthmark.

“Oh! She is just dah’lin Ay’mon, oi were not lying! I could just devour her like a cupcake!”

Amon chuckled softly. “Careful who you mention sweets around.”

Swallowing nervously, Essie took an initiative to sip her mead.

“So, where are you from lass?” Khrono trailed on conversationally. “Not from Etheron, I’d surmised that much.”

“Vramahd, actually.”

The man let out a low, impressed whistle. “Quite the travel all the way across the continent here o’ yonder. Lots o’ wild out there still, I hear.”

“I… I suppose.”

“Oi like Etheron, no?”

She smiled faintly. “It’s been good to me.”

Sash raised her eyebrows slightly, glancing between her and Amon. “Yes, it seems it has.”

Ignoring the strange glance, Essie let out a nervous cough. “Do you three help rule a territory of Etheron?”

“Moi? Heavens no!”

Khrono simply laughed, shaking his head. “No, miss, ‘fraid I ain’t. Lady Yaereena here though, she’s late in line to uphold the mantle in her family, should anything happen to any of ‘em.”

The elf shivered nervously at the half-elf man’s words. “I am not fit to be a ruler. I’m f-far more content with my life, how it is.”

“There’s nothing wrong with either,” Essätha offered gently. “Not everyone has to be a leader. Just because you were born to the possible responsibility, doesn’t mean it owns you. You just have to lead your own life the best way possible. You carve your own path, my Lady. If you should ever change your mind, there is always open positions and ways you could grow your experience from.”

The blonde woman blinked with astonishment, looking at her full on. Her mouth opened a few times, and a rush of red coloring flushed her features. She dipped her head, offering a humble, squeaky mumble of thanks.

Sasha grabbed at Khrono’s arm. “Fan me, Khrono, I may swoon!”

The elderly man snorted his laughter. “You and your theatrics ‘nd drama, Sasha. ‘though I must say,” he turned his gaze to Essie, “You got a very valid word there, miss. You got a promisin’ future ahead of ya with that sorta level head.”

“I- it’s nothing,” Essätha muttered, fanning off their gushing. “There’s nothing wrong with choosing your own path. Just because you’re a leader doesn’t make you a follower, either. You can still tutor and guide through other means. The world doesn’t just need Lords and Ladies; it needs the farmers that plow the fields, the doctors that heal, blacksmiths, fishermen, cooks, undertakers, barkeeps…” she trailed off, offering a hand to Yaereena as she fidgeted. “The point is to be the very best you possible. If you’re happy with where you are, I’m happy for you; and I support your choice.”

With a look of absolute awe on her angelic face, Yaereena fiercely gripped her hand in return.

“You are truly as unique and artful as Master Amon said,” she thickly remarked; her stuttering disappearing in her whispering tone. “Thank you for your kind words, miss Essätha.”

Blushing herself, Essie stood a fraction taller beneath the praise. “M’lord exaggerates.”

“Oh dah’lin I ever don’t so,” Sasha snorted. “Oi are a fine specimen. Upholding others is a beautiful and honorable task. Keep women strong. The men will beg for your attention.”

“I don’t think she’s doin’ it for the young lads, lassy.”

“Perhaps not young men,” Sasha agreed with knowing.

Offering a vaguely amused half-grin, Essie took a drink from her glass, wrapping a self-conscious arm around herself. It felt a little easier to breathe, at least, for the moment.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Letting out a heavy sigh, Essätha stared vacantly at all the extravagant décor and finely dressed individual as they blindly passed her by. A face among faces; lost in the sea of glances as she watched others depart the party. Her own companions were still spread among those chatting; not yet willing to let the dream die. Sasha and Yaereena had left a short while ago, and Khrono had since gotten tangled in other conversation, leaving her feeling stranded.

A warm hand touched her own; fingers splayed against her digits.

She turned her face up to Amon, smiling painfully. “Thank you for introducing me to your acquaintances.”

He nodded. “They’re good friends.”

“… You thought Lady Yaereena could benefit, meeting me.”

The nobleman arched a single brow. “Anyone could benefit from knowing you, Essie; that is simply the warmth you bring forth to others,” he gently offered, “I… I just wanted to…”

“Pull me from my shell?” she offered, studying his expression. “Yank me from the staircase?”

His eyes were troubled. He frowned slightly, searching her face.

Exhaling deeply once more, she turned her eyes over the emptying room. It looked as she felt.

“… You are very thoughtful to think of me,” she said quietly, pulling her hand away. “But I do not belong here.”

As soon as her flats scuffed the floor in a single step, Amon’s hand took hold of hers, careful but firm.

“That’s not true, Essätha,” he rasped, holding her hand close. “You belong right here.”

Her gaze skirted from his hand, up the length of his arm, to the open invitation of his side. Up further, the pleading of his eyes stared longingly back at her. His pupils were blown out, and his breathing was shallow. Each breath was ragged; rough, struggling against an unexplained force.

She could feel the tightness constructing her throat. The tension in the air that was magic and yet was not. No matter how much she wanted to turn away, her eyes were held. She was stuck in the pull and it was taking her in, deeper and deeper, answering her questions, whispering to her the universes very secrets in a strange language she knew yet did not. Amon’s body language an open invitation; the doors to refuge and sanctuary wide open.

What was he fighting for? Why did it matter so much to him that she stay? Why was her comfort so important to him? Her happiness?

What am I to you?

She sucked in a breath. The words echoing in her head there were not her own. It was his words, and it was as fresh as the day he spoke them to her.

She knew the answer, but could not explain it. She could not identify it. She held back from admitting it, from letting the feeling flow freely. But she could not seem to hold it all back. How she unconsciously leaned in towards him; how her heartbeat picked up, the way she smiled when she truly smiled around him. Or even how, like now, she found it impossible to remove her eyes from him because looking at Amon made her chest light, made the world feel safe, and everything else in comparison just seemed so lackluster and uninteresting.

He was, in every way, her heart. Her sanctuary. Her fondest thought. Her Lord Amon.

But she could not give him the things he was warranted, what he deserved, what he wanted.

Essie smiled, even though it hurt, and mouthed softly, “There are… better women who should have that position.”

A quivering breath, shaky and uneasy as a boat on choppy waters, escaped him. His voice rose in the most broken whisper; soft, longing, and hopeless.

“… But I love you.”

She swallowed. “You…”

He turned so red she wondered if he’d forgotten how to breathe. A short, frightful nod, and he clutched to her hand with enough strength to make her fingers ache a little. He brought her hand closer, holding it against his chest. For comfort, for her to feel perhaps the sound of his heart trying to claw out of his ribcage desperately.

“There’s few things I’ve ever done right in my life,” Amon rasped; voice cracking in a rush. “Raising Marie. Joining the party. Keeping my word to you that I would stay.” He swallowed. “… Loving you, with all of my broken pieces.”

“Essie, I wanted you to meet them because I wanted them to meet you. You make a difference in others lives. I wanted them to see this beautiful, smart woman I can’t stop talking about and can’t get off my thoughts because I knew they couldn’t believe me and would never understand until they met you, just how wonderful you are. You are… extraordinary.”

She could hardly hear anything else past the exclamation. She didn’t need to hear anymore.

Maybe she wasn’t fit for this lifestyle. But she fit comfortably against Amon’s side.

“You’re not broken. You’ve been wounded, but you’re still one very solid, one very kind, one very reassuring and lovely man, m’lord Amon;” she retorted, smoothing her palm out against his chest. “… One man I admire, very deeply.”

Worry crept in. He began to falter; his joy deflating beneath defeat. “You make me feel alive and whole again,” the nobleman declared softly.

She scoffed, reaching to hold his cheek in her other hand. “If that’s true, why do you appear so blue right now, m’lord?”

He reached out to cup her cheek in his palm in response. She leaned into his touch, and the anxious smile grew more genuine as he stroked a line of warmth with the pad of his thumb along her cheek.

“I’m scared that I have made a very foolish decision in telling you, and that it will change how you are with me. That you will never be comfortable. That I will lose your trust.”

“You can not lose that which has always been yours,” Essie murmured, turning her head to kiss his palm. “My trust is as true as my heart, which loves you unconditionally.”

Amon gasped loudly. “You do?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “I do.”

Grinning wildly, he stepped closer, leaning down to rest his forehead against her own.

“That’s a relief,” he murmured, “I… I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you as a friend.”

She snickered faintly. “Sorry to say, you’re stuck with that title for life, M’lord.”

“It is one of my best titles,” he clarified. Releasing her other hand, he tentatively reached around her waist.

She stepped into his embrace without hesitation, allowing the warmth of his arms to steady her and wrap her in safety. A sigh parted her lips as she nuzzled against his shoulder. Amon rested his chin atop her head in turn, humming gratefully.

All the world was brighter, more colorful, and beautiful for it. Simply because he existed, because she was lucky to know him, and it made her world better for it. And as far as she was concerned, they held each other gently in this moment that she hoped could last a lifetime.

[artificialqueens]

Star Struck, Fuck! PT. 2 {Bidadore} Tonksie

A/N:  Soooooo I’m not dead. When I wrote part one I had basically always planned to continue it. However my world got really nuts and honestly like… I just didn’t ever finish it. So here you have part 2 for your pleasure. I can’t promise anything else. I will say I am working on another addition to my other Fic Daddy May I sleep with Danger and I’ve done some in that but if anything of mine ever gets done it might be a miracle! But either way I have this so I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone for the support sorry it’s a year late. But hey the ABCD Tour really got me going.

Summary:Danny Noriega’s dreams are shattered! He met his soulmate and doesn’t even remember who he is! Now he’s in a world of color and completely alone in it. His manager and mom try to cheer him up with some Tickets to a VERY special show.

‘Pop Sensation Says he needs to “Take a Step Back!”’ ‘American Idol Alum Danny Noriega Cancels plans for new tour!’

All the news papers were going crazy with this. Danny had a pile of newspapers and gossip rags in front of him in his Manager’s office. She looked at him with this long suffering look of patience that he was starting to get sick of. He fucking hated pity but it was all anyone seemed to have for him. That or frustration which wasn’t any better. No one really understood; no one even could. His mom tried and it was as close as anyone could get since she lost hers so fast and he’d avoided her so long, but it wasn’t exactly the same. Hers had wanted her he just fought it, his hadn’t even stuck around long enough to know.

“Sweetie you can’t hide away forever. You wanted to take some time, I get that, and we are. But this can’t keep going on.” his agent said tossing down a folder in her hands and running a hand in her hair. “How are we gonna get past this?” She asked gently sitting across from him.  Danny couldn’t look her in the eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip wishing he could just go home and wallow like he had been for the last few months. This was when pity hit a wall. It had been months. Months of him moping and sulking and crying. It was just hard to lose all those dreams.

“Why don’t we release it? Tell everyone I’m looking and if you were at the concert–” Danny tried again hoping that this time would be different. Until he was interrupted.

“You know we can’t do that. It’s no good for your image! You have to look available.” She insisted.

Danny shot up straight ready to fight again“You’ve organized public relationships for me! How is this–”

“Those were casual.” she pointed out trying to retain her calm when she seemed to want to strangle the popstar. “This would be much more serious. It would be a turn off to the fans. Especially if you can’t find him.

“If I put it out maybe–”

“Danny please.” She snapped finally losing her cool a little before taking a deep breath. “Beside, you and I both know that would bring forward a swarm of people. How would you know which one was the right one. There were several thousand people there Dan. And a couple hundred in the first rows not counting the ones your surfed through!” She pointed out. She hated when he crowd surfed.

He shrugged “I’ll just know! Everyone says it you know who it is.” He was pouting but he couldn’t help it. She had good points.

“It’s just not a good idea.” She huffed and walked to her desk changing the subject. “I thought a night of going out and having fun would help. Your mother and I talked and two of those Drag Queens you love is doing a show. We got you tickets. I’d appreciate it if you go.” She said holding out a ticket.

Danny looked down at the ticket and a small smile slipped onto his lips. Bianca del Rio and Courtney Act doing a show together. It wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted but the last time he had managed to sneak into one of her shows with his fake ID he had come out with an entire CD in a few days. It had been the most inspired he’d ever been as he sat in the back wondering if she would ever notice him. She was his favorite queen after all. Besides, maybe it would take his mind off of what he did want, a soulmate that wanted him.

“I.. Ok. Thanks.” He said genuinely feeling a little excited. He wasn’t sure if it would do any good but Bianca and the other Drag Race girls always made him feel better. He had loved watching them for weeks. He lived for all the drama and chaos. Plus, there was something so gratifying in watching someone excel the way Bianca had. Maybe it would help. But there was no way in hell he was going as Danny.

—

Roy wasn’t some whiny bitch that sat around in his pjs and crusty old makeup when he was upset. When things didn’t go his way he dealt with it and he moved on. That’s what he had been doing. In the past five months and fourteen days, not that he was counting, since ‘the incident’ he had thrown himself into every ounce of work he could find. He was producing so many dresses he was pretty sure he had filled every closet he had available to him with new wardrobe for everyone who would let him sew for them. He had new routines and had been working on jokes and shows. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t rest. He just kept going.

He couldn’t let himself stop, he couldn’t let himself think. If he stopped, if he thought, he wasn’t sure he would pick it back up again. Roy was moving from sheer force of will. The amazing thing was, when you got so busy the world almost went back to grey. He could almost pretend he wasn’t looking at colors as he moved from thing to thing barely sleeping and never resting. He didn’t think as much about Danny or the show or the colors.

Without fail something would, eventually, happen though. At first it had been daily, it wasn’t that anymore thank God, but it was still too often. There would be a bright flash of color, or a poster for his kid or there would be some crazy person running around with purple hair and he would remember. He would be thrown into the past and start wondering what would have happened if he had listened to Shane and gone to talk to Danny after the show.

Danny wasn’t looking for his Soulmate though. All the articles about pulling back had Roy curious, and worried not that he’d ever admit it. Nothing had come out about him seeing colors or looking for someone though. Nothing had been released to even make him think that Danny’s life had been affected by the night that had stopped him in his tracks. Danny wasn’t shaken. Danny wasn’t confused. Danny wasn’t affected. That was just Roy. So much for soulmates. Fucking universe would do something like this.

Roy sighed applying another layer of his white eyeliner trying to shut his brain up. Courtney burst through the door laughing and smiling. “Heeey!”

“Someone’s happy.” Roy smirked rolling his eyes. “Dipping into the power already bitch.” He mocked playfully making Courtney laugh and skip over sitting next to the queen still getting into Drag. Shane took the least amount of time to become Courtney so he was always fluttering around before shows.

“One of us has to have a life.” she shot back shrugging and filing her nail. “I took a look out there, just to see what we’re dealing with and you’re going to die!” Courtney said.

“Why is there a poster of your big ass face?” He teased smiling putting on the last touches. “That’s scary enough to give anyone a heart attack!”

“You would be so lucky! Nooo!” Courtney said with a smile having clearly gotten the joke but too pleased with herself. “There is one of the trashiest little baby queens I’ve ever seen. Red hair, huge lips, and a Budweiser tank and cut offs. You’re going to read her for filth!” Courtney squealed happily.

Roy laughed his ass off at that. “God do people look in the mirror before they leave the house?” He asked and quickly followed it up with an answer of “If the mirror breaks before you get a look CHANGE!” He mocked.

—

Adore Delano sat front row at the bar already a few drinks in. There was part of her that was surprised that the show was in a bar with how popular Bianca was but she supposed even with as popular as the show had gotten, drag was still considered counterculture.  Which was exactly why Danny wasn’t allowed to mention Adore.

Danny refused to let himself think about that right now though. Outright refused. Tonight he wasn’t allowed to sulk. Danny Noriega was a popstar who’s soulmate wasn’t interested and had run off. Adore Delano was a sexy “it girl” with everything going for her. It was going to be a Party!

She turned in her chair and scanned the room looking for someone cute. Cute guys always cheered her up. She could hit on them and they would flirt and have a fun night and pull her out of her funk.

Since losing her soulmate she hadn’t been in much of a mood for it, but Adore didn’t have a soulmate, Adore was her own person and she could sleep with anyone. Now Danny could too. He was just about to prove it and go for the cute guy at the bar when the show started.

The MC came out and greeted everyone, did a few jokes to warm the house, nothing as funny as Bianca but not bad, and then Courtney came on stage. She greeted everyone and started her set. The songs were great and Adore sang along getting lost in the music and the atmosphere and the voice. That caught Courtney’s eye a few times. Adore wasn’t totally sure why Courtney seemed to have her eyes on her but she was so excited she waved and interacted a little, totally respectfully. It was very exciting for the young queen.

—

Courtney went on and Bianca watched from the back through the curtains. It took two seconds to see the girl Courtney had mentioned. Instantly about twelve reads came to mind. She sifted it down to a few sure that more would be added depending on how the girl acted. She was so caught up in her head that she almost didn’t notice Courtney come off.

“Good luck following me.” The Aussie called walking by and Bianca rolled her eyes.

“Gassy again tonight?” Bianca called getting the finger from Courtney followed by a blown kiss. Bianca laughed and walked onto the stage waving and greeting everyone. “Hi everybody! Hello! Welcome. Thank you all for coming out. Especially to Raggedy Anne over here. I know it’s hard to get out of the toy box.” He aimed to Adore who laughed brightly.

“I thought I’d play one of the clowns.” She threw back without thinking referring to the ‘clown realness’ joke Bianca always used for herself.

“Oh she’s clever. My show get ya own mic.” Roy said laughing. “That was good though. Nice one.” He assured before getting on with his set. His eyes kept going back to the red hair. Something about the girl was familiar. Something about that face, her behavior and voice. He couldn’t figure it out but he also couldn’t quite pull his eyes away for too long.

Every time Bianca came back to the girl in the front with the red wig she always had a response. She was cute, ditsy, and clearly very different from first expected. Bianca had gotten her once though which had earned here an adorable blush and covered face with a finger aimed at her. She wasn’t mad, she had earned that finger. Besides it was cute to see the queen all flustered.

Adore was lapping up the attention from her favorite queen. Courtney had been amazing but Adore was so in love with Bianca it was unreal. He knew it was pathetic, a fan in love with another RPDR queen but hey what did she have to lose right? She didn’t have a soulmate.

All too soon, and in Adore’s mind it was way too fast, the show was over. Adore looked around not quite ready to leave. This was the most fun she’d had in a while. She looked around for that guy she’d seen when she heard a voice behind her. “You’re good. Except the style.” the raspy read caught her off guard and she turned trying not to squeal.

“Bianca?” He asked shocked. “Fuck you I look hot.” Adore insisted at a whine but her eyes went big and she gave a charming ditzy smile and her rapidfire batting eyelashes.

“Hot mess maybe.” Bianca shot back. “Want a drink?”

“Party!”

“Oh god.” Bianca rolled her eyes. “Come on bitch.” She said laughing at the charming baby queen. He couldn’t explain why he was doing this. He often bought drinks for good sports because it was nice. This one was a little different though, this time he was enjoying himself.

Bianca ordered his drink and told the bartender to add what the girl ordered to his tab. Adore ordered the frilliest thing on the menu making Bianca roll her eyes. “Really queen?” He judged quirking.

“Yeah! It’s fucking good. Try it!” She insisted offering the drink to the older queen.

“Fuck no I’m not gonna try it. That weak shit probably tastes like a diabetic’s asshole.” This girl did not need sugar. She was energetic and loud and charming and sounded like she was at a fucking concert.

“That’s why I like it so much.” She said in an airy flirty tone as she tried to seductively drink out of the straw making the older queen laugh with another  muttered ‘oh god.’

“Nice try but I already gave to charity this year.” she mocked sipping her wine.

“What if I said I was a superstar?” Adore flirted. She knew it was probably useless; but fucking Bianca Del Rio, or getting fucked by Bianca Del Rio, would be the highlight of her life. She had to  go for it. Even if, supposedly, Courtney was better in bed. He just loved Bianca, her style, her humor, her no nonsense mouth. Danny had always felt like he could learn something from her.

“Sure you are Queen. And I’m Mother Teresa.” Bianca rolled her eyes. The kid was cute but also very drunk and very messy. The style was so unpolished and unlike anything she’d ever experienced. This girl looked trashy but she looked like that on purpose and you could tell. You could tell she actually tried to look like a mess.

“I am though! You even went to my concert.” Adore said smiling and batting her eyes. She had a secret that Bianca didn’t know and she was going to enjoy getting attention by holding it over her.

“You singing along with Courtney isn’t your concert.” He teased. Adore looked shocked. “Yeah I saw you.” It was probably a mistake to admit he’d been watching the girl sing and dance to Courtney’s songs from backstage but he had. It had been a little enchanting too. Watching the way this queen moved. She was so free and caught up.

“No fuuuuck not here.” Adore whined smiling and laughing covering her face with her hands. “No I… I’m going to tell you a secret.” Adore said with a very loud stage whisper. “I’m Danny Noriega.”

There was a moment of stunned silence when he said that. “Bull Shit.” Bianca breathed looking the other queen over. It all added up though. The voice, it was very much the voice from the album. The hair would make sense if he didn’t know colors, that stung a little since Roy could see them bright as day because of the little queen in front of him. What truely should have given it away though was the eyes. They had been the first color he had seen, they had pretty much rocked and shattered his world.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it before. Those eyes were the exact color he had seen from the stage.They were seared into his brain and haunted him everywhere. They were  bright and vibrant and big with lips that had given him a lot of very wrong images for a man 14 years this kid’s senior, though the kid was his soulmate.

“No it’s true.” Danny insisted. “My Manager got me these tickets after my soulmate fucking dumped me.” he was pouting into his frilly pink drink now. If that face didn’t shatter Roy’s chilly little heart he didn’t know what would.

Bianca held back a poke at the red wig and instead went in for something a little closer to what had been on his mind the past months. “What do you mean he dumped you?” she asked.

“I mean I guess dump would imply I met him. I was at a concert, actually the one you were at. And like… so when I’m performing I get a little high. Not like on anything or shit like that. I just feel really high and everything is bright and … anyway when I got off stage I noticed that I could see colors… but when I went to look for my soulmate he hadn’t… stuck around. I guess he didn’t want me.” Adore admitted taking another big drink as tear started and she tried to dab them away. “Fuck I must look like such a Chillona right now.”

“Not really.” Roy assured looking around. “You wanna go to my dressing room we’ll have more space to talk there.” This was a bad idea. What was he gonna do tell Adore everything? Then what? There was no rainbows and sunshine in his life he didn’t get happy endings other than winning Drag Race and even then.

“Party.” Adore Sniffed.

“Oh God. Party! Aha I can see colors and still chose a bright red fucking wig. Cool.” Bianca teased which actually made Adore laugh. Adore was grateful for that. She hadn’t felt this light since that night. Right now she felt this weird sense of home, she figured it had something to do with how connected she’d always felt with the queen on the season, like she should have been there. She wondered if she had fans who felt like this.

Bianca led the girl to her dressing room and inside Courtney sat at the mirror. “Took you long enough. I was starting to think you got lost.” Courtney joked looking back to see Bianca then Adore walked in. “Oh you have a guest. Wow. Isn’t that my job?” Courtney joked with a smile.

“Hi I’m Adore.” She greeted with a bright smile. So that was her name. Other than Danny of course. Cute. It fit the sort of personality in a weird way. The charm was there it made her adorable for sure.

Courtney smiled charmingly “Hi Adore I’m Courtney. Nice to meet you.” she said looking curiously at Bianca.

“Yeah I’ve seen you. I loved your season.” She said brightly.

“Oh God. You watch RuPaul’s Drag Race?” Bianca asked way too amused by that discovery.

“Fuck yeah! It’s like my favorite show!” Adore enthused. “Like I love drama and shit!m You were fucking funny.” Adore explained.

“No! You have to stop. If you compliment Bianca her head will swell even more and explode!” Courtney overdramatically warned throwing up her hands.

“My head can’t get any bigger than yours. My ego is well earned.” Bianca said flatly and full of attitude. “Unlike you, I won!”

“See how mean she is to me.” Courtney jokingly wept throwing her arm over Adore’s shoulders.

“No, bitch you deserve that.” Adore said laughing but still pat Courtney’s back as she did. All of this felt so much like hanging out with her friends at home. They talked like this. Heck she would joke with her mom like this.

“Ha see! She’s on my side!” Bianca said. “And hands off this one’s mine get your own.” she added wrapping an arm around Adore who happily melted into the arm of the older woman. That was a nice feeling. Adore felt a rush of heat to her cheeks as Bianca claimed her.

“Fuck yeah! Three way!” Adore joked laughing making the other two pull faces before laughing as well.

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Courtney said. “Excuse me while I go find a man!” She brightly fluttered out and Bianca and Adore laughed at her antics.

Bianca looked at her soulmate and it really hit her for the first time. Roy wasn’t usually into queens but this one was cute even in drag. Danny was bright but grungy and sort of accented Bianca and her dark dry humor. Danny had fit easily into a conversation with Courtney and it felt so natural. It was really something to have someone slip so easily into a bond that the three RPDR queens had built up so thoroughly in the fires of the competition and had insisted no one would understand. They had always felt a little impenetrable.

Even on the show the three of them had made a close bond instantly and really tightened ranks. Sometimes they would talk to Jocelyn and Bianca had won because of her willingness to help Trinity, but no one had cracked their top three. Then here waltzed in this little queen with a bright smile, green eyes, and literally adding colors to Roy’s life and he fit right in.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Adore asked making Bianca realize that she had been quiet for a while. “I know I’m sexy.” Adore joked batting her eyes and tilting her head giving a weird smile with pouted out lips.

Bianca crackled loudly and threw her head back. “Oh sure girl.” She responded amused shaking her head. “I was just thinking about what you said in the bar. About your soulmate.” Bianca said bringing Adore down.

Adore pouted and sighed flopping down into a chair in front of one of the huge prep mirrors. Bianca gracefully sat herself in one across from it waiting. “I mean I don’t really wanna talk about it.” Adore whined. “This is like the first time since it happened I’ve had fun.” she explained.

“But why not just react when it happened? Why didn’t you call it out before going off stage?” Bianca asked hoping it sounded like a response to the story earlier and not just her on memories. When it had happened Roy’s mind had started rushing with so many things. Everything was swirling and crazy and he had been overwhelmed by the situation and Danny’s age and his lack of reaction. He had only been able to imagine one possible reason for why Danny hadn’t responded.

“It’s gonna sound crazy.” Adore blushed looking down.

Bianca smirked “Really? Cause the wig and the clothes didn’t tell me that.” she teased but her tone wasn’t harsh or biting like it usually was. It was welcoming even if the words weren’t.

“Fuck off. Look at your make up bitch.” She joked back laughing.

“I never said I was sane.” Bianca reasoned laughing and enjoying the moment. “So, what was it?”

Adore laughed and shook her head “Basically when I perform, the world– it…. I don’t know it’s just really fucking like bright and shit. So I feel like I can already see colors sometimes, or I did cause now I can. But like… I was flying high and I like honestly didn’t notice until I looked in the fucking mirror after the show.” She admitted.

That made a weird sort of sense. It explained why Bianca’s world had shattered at the realization and Danny’s hadn’t. “You really didn’t see it? Like nothing changed when your hand touched?” He asked trying not to be too obvious.

“No like not at all. Like…I’ve been waiting for that moment for like forever. I always wanted my soulmate. I had this image ya know? Like I knew like how good it would be. He would love me and we would be together and it would work out.” She admitted and looked up. “Fuck I’m sorry. I’m spilling my fucking heart out to Bianca Del Rio.” Adore whined loudly.

Bianca smirked “Don’t worry about it queen.”

“What’s your soulmate story? Like you noticed my hair so you obviously have one and I know you didn’t on the show so…. Like who’s the lucky guy?” Adore asked.

Bianca wasn’t sure what to say. How did she not just basically look up and say ‘you, idiot’? “That’s kind of a long story.” she admitted looking the girl over. Danny deserved to know. It was a mess but he couldn’t leave this beautiful person like this. He had no rights to Danny or his life but Danny deserved to know the truth. Bianca just wasn’t quite sure she was brave enough to say it out loud yet. That felt like it would make it way too real.

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” Adore smirked “Plus you listened to my whiny ass so fuck it right?” Adore smiled wondering if maybe her hero’s story was as sad as her own.

Bianca sighed “Well I was in a crowd and I happened to graze his hand. I noticed and he… didn’t.” Bianca said with a sort of airy shrug that he hoped made it seem like he didn’t care as much as he did. “So Courtney, Darienne, and I went out for drinks and that was that.” He admitted.

“Wait what?” Adore was stunned and confused and didn’t have any clue how to react.

“Well we know what you got on your SATs: Katchup.” Bianca joked trying to change the subject.

“Bitch please I didn’t take no SATs I went to continuation school.” She joked and shook her head refusing to get distracted even as she elicited a loud cackle from the other queen. “No like you didn’t like… run up and tell him or some shit?” Adore asked tilting her head.

“No, and I regret it.” He admitted “But to be fair I honestly thought he just didn’t have the same reaction.” He was being honest here. It was hard to admit but he just couldn’t see his life turning out like his childhood dreams of white picket fences. “It would be my luck that the fucking universe doesn’t give me a soulmate that wants me back. Like I would be that bitch that’s soul is bound to someone who is meant for someone else.” Bianca mused annoyed.

“Fuck no, no way. Like you’re way too good for that shit. Besides once there’s like a soul bond you’re just gonna keep meeting and meeting like even my mom. She met her soulmate and like he tried to keep her away because he was like dying and shit but they kept meeting and meeting. If he’d have just like fucking let it happen he might have been my dad instead of this other asshole.” Adore pointed out with a shrug.

Bianca looked the boy over and thought for a moment. It made sense. I mean how the hell else did you explain his soulmate popping up at a show in drag. Being front row and having a bright red wig and style he was going to read to filth. You couldn’t. “So what if your guy popped up out of the blue?” Bianca asked hesitant and serious, which was rare for her.

“I mean… I’d ask why he didn’t like–” Adore’s voice cracked again and the tears were coming back. She fucking hated this, especially in front of her superstar. This person in front of her always seemed so strong and here she was breaking down. “Why he didn’t stay around and why he didn’t want me.” She admitted swallowing. “Like what I did that made him not stay.” She tried. “I don’t know all the stupid questions that have been like all over my mind since that fucking concert.” She admitted.

Bianca took a deep breath and nodded. This wasn’t her forte. She didn’t know how to do feelings. She avoided those bitches like she was a fat kid and they were vegetables. It was also the first time since that night that she wished she’d listened to Courtney’s cheesy romantic ass and tried walking in and talking to Danny before running out the door.

Meeting Adore like this, and getting to see this person without the pressure of knowing some cosmic joke had you destined to be in each other’s lives forever, was kinda nice. She wondered how different her life would be if she’d met Adore before he knew Danny. What if she’d met Adore much earlier? How would her life have changed having this amazing little queen in it back on the show for instance. “Anyone who wouldn’t want you would be crazy ok.”

Adore looked up with a wet laugh and a smile as Bianca handed her a tissue and she dabbed at her eyes trying not to smudge the liner. “Thanks but… I mean I’m getting over it. Like clearly soul mates aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. They’re still fucking humans right?” Adore pointed out.

“Yeah and ya know your guy may be cracked, and broken but you deserve a lot of love.” Bianca swallowed trying to summon nerve “You’re pretty special and very talented and I regret not talking to you about it.” Bianca admitted. “Cause I should have.” She said hoping it was clever or possibly hoping that Adore wasn’t clever. She wasn’t entirely sure which.

“Wait what?” Adore asked looking up shocked.

“There’s that quick wit again.” Bianca said before she could stop herself, probably partially in a desperate attempt to break the tension she felt talking like this. She didn’t do honest like this either.

“Wait no I’m… I’m confused. Why would you I’m — fuck– what?” She muttered totally confused and lost.

Bianca huffed. She had to stand up. She needed to move. She started to pace taking off her wig, she needed some level of comfort for this shit. If she could she’d have popped her tuck too because she was gonna need her balls for this.

“The night I saw colors for the first time I was at your concert. Courtney and Darienne bought me tickets to your tour for my birthday.” She admitted “Shady bitches know your music is my guilty pleasure.”

Adore broke into a bright smile that still had hints of tears spoiling it. The tracks were running down her pretty face. “Party!” Adore said excited “That’s fucking cool you like my music?” She asked.

Bianca was gonna get whiplash with this back and forth. It was amazing how the girl could light up like a candle after crying and looking so broken only moments before. He laughed and shook his head walking over and pulling the crazy red wig off her damn head, gentle enough to be sure no bobby pins ripped hair out. “Yeah I do now let me finish my damn story.” He smirked “Anyway I reached up with the crowd like a dumbass and saw this huge pair of green eyes staring down at me and I was amazed.” He admitted “Because how in the hell could some baby pop star be my fucking soulmate. I’m old enough to be your grandmother.” he joked.

“I mean, she doesn’t age so that’s not really saying anything.” Danny joked looking up at Bianca out of the wig and smiled. Bianca ran a hand in the boy’s hair making goosebumps erupt on his skin. She gently tilted his head back running short nails over his scalp. “So you’re my soulmate then?” Danny finally asked letting it all sink in as he looked into, currently blue, contact covered eyes wishing they were their natural brown.

“I fucking hope so cause if not this is one sick ass joke.” Bianca said with a wry smirk. Before he even registered what was happening Adore had sprung up from her chair and into his arms and a pair of, very talented, lips were on his. He groaned kissing back hard and pulling the boy close pushing him against the table and feeling something poking into his thigh. Roy blinked and looked down to see a bulge. “Bitch you didn’t tuck?”

Adore laughed “Fuck no, I was hoping I’d need that later.” he flirted in the airy Adore voice pulling Bianca in again with a luscious moan that was way too sexual for a dressing room.

“Bianca I– Oh my GOD!” an Australian voice cried from the door as it opened and she was followed by some man.

“Bitch do you knock?!” Bianca shouted turning around annoyed at his blonde friend for interrupting.

“Never mind I was just… but… I’m … OH MY GOD! THAT’S DANNY!” Courtney said again.

“Danny Noriega! Oh man I love him.” A very dumb sounding man said behind Courtney and tried to sneak in and offered a hand. “Hi Danny I’m–”

Bianca cut in with a withering look. “You’re leaving.” He nearly threatened the intruding man who’s strong jaw line had a possessive streak rising in Bianca. “Queen, you got a man at home! Get out and let me have mine.” Bianca said pointedly to Courtney which made the random man confused.

Courtney nodded “Right sorry I’m just gonna…” Courtney kept talking but Bianca didn’t hear the end. Suddenly there was a chest against her back an a mouth at her ear.

“Why don’t we just go to my place instead?” Danny purred and that was all it took. Roy picked up the two wigs and his bag.

“Oh second thought have it.” Bianca said grabbing Danny’s hand. “You got anything else? No. Let’s roll.” Bianca said with a smirk that Danny returned in kind. This was going to be one long night.