#( it’s all well and good to treat marriage like a business or political arrangement in your world )

[blossomhcir]

// violently shaking g.rrm while demanding to know more about how dowries and widow’s income works

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 2 ✿:+ White Mare

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Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: slow burn, MDNI, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, alcohol consumption, mention of parent(s) death, mention of arranged marriage, mention of prostitution, mention of NSFW themes

Word Count: 3037

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Ever since that day in the stable you filled your days with reading, sewing, mindless activities to keep yourself busy. Anything to relieve your mind of the horrors of Kings Landing and your shameful thoughts of the giant who roamed the halls. Loras and you grew distant since you rejected his hand in marriage, in turn you spent your time with the Starks. It was hard at first to be without your only friend but you were determined to get your cousin out of this city. But it wasn’t hard when Sansa clung to you like a scared beaten dog. You were treated no better of course. But at least you knew how to handle such cruelty with a stepmother like Lysa. 

“Don’t let them see you cry,” You’d repeat holding her face “Don’t let it show. Don’t you see how much pleasure he derives from seeing you like this?” 

 Arya would teach you small things she learned during her sword training, and in all honesty it was the most fun you’d had in years. You found yourself becoming more and more invested in those little girls' well being. 

It seemed as soon as Nedd arrived in Kings Landing his time ended. 

That day seemed like a dream. You were summoned by Cersei to her Chambers.

“Has Lord Stark mentioned anything to you about the nature of your fathers death?” Cersei questioned you calmly as she poured wine into her gablet.  

“My fathers?” You asked genuinely confused, she nodded as she sipped her wine “No, your grace.”  

“Good. It would be cruel of him to spark paranoia in the mind of a grieving daughter.” She said as she paced the room with her goblet of wine in hand. 

“Paranoia?” If you weren’t before you would be now. 

Cersei interrupted you once more “Lord Stark will be arrested for treason today. Somewhat unrelated but it would seem that Lord Stark’s head is filled with paranoid thoughts.” 

You didn’t understand why your uncle was on trial for such a crime. You were just a girl to these men, they didn’t speak of such things with you, that is yet. “Little bird, you are a clever and strong girl. I know you are loyal, loyal to the Starks, they are your family. But it is important to be loyal to your allies just the same. Sometimes family will only drag us down, allies however can make us stronger.” Cersei not so subtly threatened you.

You nodded politely, as soon as you could leave you tried to find your little cousins. 

You found Arya by the stables. You noticed the men lying dead on the ground with the Stark girls baggage. You saw Arya holding her bloodied sword after pulling it out of the stable boy.

She was horrified, you approached her slowly and quietly.

“Arya” You spoke gently but that didn’t stop Arya from jumping and pointing needle at you. “Arya, you need to run.” You said softly, almost a whisper. 

She ran to you dropping needle, she wrapped her arms around you. You held her close but kneeled to her height. 

You held her face with both your hands and your eyes bore into hers. “Your family is not safe here. You are not safe here.” Your grasp on her head did not waver. “You have to find a way out, get to the city, find a way out of the city, get to the north.” 

“I can’t!” She began to whine as she cried 

“You can!” you stroked her hair trying to keep her attention “You killed those men?” 

“Just the stable boy” she cried softly

“You killed a man. That's more than most women will ever kill.” You pulled her face closer trying to make sure your words reached her  “Listen to me those men will come and they will kill you. Don’t trust anyone, never tell them your name, never tell them your house. Lie, and get good at it. Kill if you need to.” You said as you grabbed needle and put it in her hand, “Now go.” You say as you let go of her and she runs off. 

‘Good’ you thought as you watched her run away. As you watched you didn’t notice the tears that had fallen from your eyes. 

Soon enough you were summoned by Cersei to witness Nedd’s verdict. 

She didn’t anticipate what came next, and neither did you, watching the death of your uncle. 

You held Sansa through it. As she screamed and cried, you tried your best to conceal her eyes. 

Your eyes however dodged from your uncle to The Hound behind him. You hoped he would do something to stop it, but he didn’t 

And so, it happened. 

The second hand of the king died.

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He thought of it every night. 

The moment he touched you, your skin, the moment his rough hands caressed your throat. 

He rolled the thought over in his mind millions of times. Gods’, it tortured him to no end. He tried to bury himself in his duty, bury himself in any woman who looked the slightest bit like you on the Streets of Silk, even taking himself in his hand at the thought of your scent…. More than once.

The thought of you sparked resentment and anger in his chest. He was Kingsguard now, he had no use for a woman, had no use for these emotions he felt. 

He hated you for it. Hated you for the way he wanted to rip Loras’s head off anytime he saw you and him in the garden. Hated you for the way he thought of your eyes everytime he closed his eyes. Hated you for the way his mind would wonder at you at any turn even on duty. Hated you for the way his chest tightened anytime he caught even a glimpse of you around Kings Landing.  And he hated you for the way your eyes caught his. Each time it was like a deadlock, those eyes, they were a bow and arrow and they shot through him each time. 

He grumbled under his breath anytime you were near. Purposefully look away from you as if you didn’t exist. You pretended not to care, but you fought hard just to catch a single glimpse of his face. The burns that draped across the right side of his face like the sheer lace curtains you had in your room in the Eyrie that distort your view from the window. 

Neither of you had much time to think about these emotions during the following days. You were spending your time mothering Sana as she grieved her fathers death. The Hound was now King Joffrey’s personal bodyguard now that Robert was gone. A terrible task truly. 

Even worse one when your stubborn and rebellious tongue didn’t obey your better judgment around the new king. The Hound tried to convince himself he hated it, but it turned him on even if he didn’t want to admit it. He tried to keep you safe, as safe as he could. Whenever you shot an annoyed glance, a cleverly concealed insult Joffrey's way, the Hound would simply divert Joffrey’s attention to something else. But if you ever got on Joffrey's bad side he couldn’t do much, far be it from him to question a king. On Joffrey’s name day you tested his patience. Joffrey had you and his lady Sansa accompany his side during his Name Day celebration. However you felt a slight sting of joy knowing you’d be so close to him once again. But more so your stomach turned in on itself. Joffrey no doubt invited you for the explicit challenge of trying to elicit some kind of reaction from you in some way. This became clear once he continuously asked for your input on the celebratory fighting. You’d had a small fascination with combat at first. It was like a dance but with blood and swords. but soon you’d grow bored of it. 

As The Hound had beaten a man to a whimpering submissive pulp the fight was over. Joffrey clapped and cheered as The Hound removed his dog helmet.  

Still you were stunned by him. You wanted to hate him for not helping your uncle. You tried to hate him but in all honesty you knew he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He’d no real power, no real way of stopping it.

“Well struck, Dog!” Joffrey shouted, and snapped you out of your trance.

Joffrey turned to you and Sansa “Did you like that?” he asked, taunting you and her. 

“It was well struck, your Grace.” Sansa replied, stoic. 

“I just said that.” Joffrey said, his eyes narrowed, his tone deepened. 

Ser Meryn looked over in Sansa’s direction. You knew what that meant, 

“I found it boring.” You chimed in, your eyes just as narrow as his. 

“You did?” He asked with the same threatening tone 

“Mm” you nodded 

“And what man did your house bring to fight?” 

“Brought no man.” You shook your head 

The Hound returned to his station by the Kings side. He pretended not to listen but he was, intensely. 

“You brought no man to my name day tournament?” He questioned further, you knew he would have taunted you further. To state it was for lack of good men or perhaps your dead father’s power died with him, that your house was to die with it.

“Not one.” Your head whipped towards Joffrey, gaze sharpening. “Not one man wished to celebrate your name day it would seem.”

“Ser Meryn.” Joffrey commanded. 

You noticed the Hound's head tilt in your direction as Ser Meryn walked towards you and slapped you across your face, cutting your lip with the armor of his glove. As Ser Meryn walked away you turned your head back towards Joffrey. 

“You are a pretty girl, a little more plump than I would like, but still a pretty girl.” Joffrey said “You should be more agreeable in tone, or you might find you won't be so pretty.” He smiled as he threatened you. 

“Hm?” He waited for your response as you wiped the blood from your lip. 

As you looked up, “Do you wish for me to cry, your Grace?” you asked almost mocking. 

Joffrey began to dryly chuckle at your remark, probably about to order another hit for you as Ser Dontos Hollard stumbled onto the tournament drunkenly. The Hound cleared his throat, getting Joffrey to shift his attention towards him and not you. With his attention shifted you were safe once more.

Your eyes stayed on the Hound however. You knew what he had done for you, however subtle it was, you noticed. 

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You found yourself spending more and more time near your mare. The moon shined on her just right for her coat to shine almost like metal, and your candle light shined on her just perfectly for her to glow like the sun. Lika, she was the only thing left you had from your home. You’d begin to yearn for the times you’d be furious with your fathers decisions and his useless attempts at comforting you. Because at least if he’d seen you were struck the way you had been, he’d have taken you home. He’d have helped you. But for now, you had Lika. 

As you sat in front of Lika’s stable, you read some book you’d stolen from Tyrion at some point. It was hardly interesting, infact you’d almost fallen asleep but Lika nuzzled her snout into your neck and sniffed you deeply, jolting you awake before you smiled and wrapped your arm around her head. You began to stroke the side of her head as you heard a low and deep voice beckon from the entrance of the stables. 

“Fuck are you doin’ girl.” 

Your head snapped towards him, relief befell you once you saw it was him, the Hound.

You looked back towards your book, “Reading, or I was anyway.” You replied softly

“Read in your room,” He said gruffly as his large hand opened the doors to the stable wider. He was so tall he ducked into the doorway as he walked inside. 

“I’ll decide where I read.” you said defiant as always. 

With a dry chuckle he began to walk towards you, “Words like that are the reason you got that cut on your lip.” 

“You don’t have to remind me of it.” You thought to yourself how this is exactly how you must sound to Sansa.

“Fuck-” He hissed under his breathe “You don’t want my help? Suit yourself.” He huffed “But don’t scream for me when you need it.” 

“I won’t want it.” You say softly “Anyways, you can’t help me.-” You began as he cut you off

“I helped that Tyrell you love.” He said with venom in his voice and a softness in his gaze. 

You furrowed your brows, stood up and faced him head on “And I have thanked you for it.” 

“I know you helped that Stark girl escape.” He said matter of fact

You huffed “What do you want from me?” you asked pained

“I want you to stay away from me.” 

“You seem to forget you came to me.” 

“You should run from me, you should tell me to go.”

“I don’t run.”

“That’s the fucking problem with you, girl. If you’d any sense you’d think of yourself. Change that tone of yours. Change those eyes, the way you look at people… like you want to gut them.” 

“I do want to.” 

“Stubborn” he chuckled darkly “Stubborn will get you beaten.” 

“Why did you come for me?” 

“I saw the light-“

“No. If it were anyone else you’d’ve gone on your way by now.” 

“Fuck does it matter?” 

“Sandor-”

“Don’t call me that.”  He hissed

“Tell me,” You say, raising a hand to his scarred cheek. He flinched and backed away quickly. His scowl deepened. He moved away from you, he turned to face outside the stables. “You wrapped your hand round my throat, and you won't let me touch your cheek?” 

“It’s different, you’re not ruined.” He said whilst he stared into the nothingness outside the stable doors. 

“Am I not?” You asked, your words felt sharp. 

“No, no you are not.” His words felt gentler. 

“I’ve no one, I’ve only this cage I sit in.” 

“You’ve got someone,” He scoffed over his shoulder at me, my eyes looking up at him widening against my will. “You’ve got that Tyrell,” You huffed, “That stark child that follows you like a bloody shadow.” He looked back into the night, “I’ve got no one,” 

“You do,” You say without noticing how bold it was until he turned to you, “Or you would, if you’d let them.” 

“My brother.” he mumbled, his head hung low as he walked closer to you. “Pressed my cheek to the fire.” He finished, unwilling to give anything else. “I know you’ve heard the story, Baelish, that cocksucking rat, no doubt told you.” 

“Course he did.” You didn’t lie, you never could to him. “But I asked you.”

He smirked slightly, his head still slightly turned away from you not wanting you to see. 

Your hand rose to caress his cheek, you did it slowly. He flinched his head away slightly and in turn you pulled your hand back slightly. As his head came back, moving closer towards you. You moved your hand to his cheek once more, slowly. He grabbed your wrist before it could make contact with his face.  

“Look at me,” He hissed “I’m a killer, the things I’ve done-” He thought back on those things “You don’t want this girl.” His grip on your wrist did not loosen, as if he was genuinely trying to protect you. “You’ll wed some lord, you’ll have his sons, and you’ll be far and gone from this shit city.” 

“I don’t want to wed a lord.” Your eyes now are not so hateful but sad. 

“World, doesn’t give a fuck what you want.” His hand reached out, slightly cupped the back of your head, hardly touching. He ran his hand down the length of your hair. Once he reached the end of it he held a lock of it in his hand to examine the color in the candle light. His deep, rich brown eyes reached yours once more. He could swear yours sparkled in any light. 

“I’ll walk you to your chamber.” He said gruffly, peeling his eyes away with yours. He grabbed the book in your hand and walked towards the doors of the stables. 

You let out a staged huff as you followed him. 

As he led you through the halls you realized that you were doing just that, following him. He knew where your chambers were and knew how to get there swiftly. 

The thought lit a fire in your chest. 

As he arrived at your door he stopped, as you opened it you turned to look at him. 

“You stole this from the imp.” He grumbled as he held up the book you did in fact steal. 

Your eyes went from the book to him, “Are you going to report me to the Queen.” You said, you smiled slightly with your eyes. Testing him and his loyalties. He growled under his breath and walked off.

The way you tested his patience stirred something in him. 

He’d definitely be taking himself in his hand that night again.

Is love the death of duty.  Or is duty the death of love?

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:2.9k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 |

Chapter 2: Presence

"I suppose it's important, Prince." You say softly, straightening his epaulette, while Leon looked at himself in the mirror.

Today he was preparing for another of those tiresome meetings between royalty and merchants. One more of the king's deals had gone through.

He nods, giving you his attention, "Yes, indeed. My father wants me to learn about these businesses before I become king."

You didn't know if you'd heard too much or something, but he seemed genuinely overwhelmed and fatigued by it all.

"If it's any consolation, I'm cheering you on." You say in a sweet smile, giving it one last adjust on his epaulette, leaving it suitably refined.

The sun lit up the room, the gentle light brightening every corner of the room. Just as it illuminated your gentle, sweet features, the way you smiled at him. Or even the way you made a point of checking if he needed help with anything else.

So he looked at you with those sparkling blue eyes, giving you the attention you'd been waiting for for a few minutes.

"Thank you for your words, princess." Despite the cordiality, you felt that there was still a distance, which was a shame.

Even though you had already been in the castle for a few days, the formalities still continued: 'Prince', 'Princess', or even 'Your Highness'. Never by your first names, or by any other name. It might sound silly, but it was a reminder that this treatment would continue for a long time.

He was still so formal and serious with you, even though you had already been living together for a few days. And there was no sign of him changing, but maybe it was too soon, maybe you had to wait.

Or maybe you were just daydreaming.

Taking a final look at himself, and then taking the opportunity to look you up and down. He couldn't deny the way you were always well dressed. You were always so kind to him, always treated him well even when he was distant from you.

He'd be lying if he didn't say that was an admirable quality in you.

So elegant, charming even. As much as he tried not to care, he loved the smell of your cologne. Something soft that reminded him of wild roses.

He was so captivated by looking at the ornaments that adorned your neck that he couldn't help but inhale your fragrance once more, letting the soft scent that surrounded you enter his nostrils, making him feel the sweetness once more.

"You look elegant, prince." You encouraged him, wrapping your arm around his as he began to take small steps towards the door.

He gives you a simple smile, leading you through the bustling corridors with the various workers. Everyone was looking at the two of you, and whispers could be heard here and there.

You knew that in this meeting your presence was only decorative, just like all the other spouses of the other seniors who would be there. Not that it bothered you, since it could be considered a relief if you spent more time around Leon. Even if it was an obligation.

The walk was as silent as ever, only polite smiles were exchanged between you and Leon, nothing too intimate. Leon was completely uncompromising with you, if you were being sincere he barely noticed you when you were that close.

He would only do so if he was in a good mood, which wasn't very often since he was always grumpy. And being close to you often made his mood worse.

However, you could see that he was trying, but the eyes don't lie. It wasn't hard to disguise the fact that he wasn't so much fond of you. Maybe it was just an annoyance and that would change with time, at least that's what you hoped.

It only took a few minutes for the two of you to reach the main hall, where you were greeted by all kinds of important guests. Even some you hadn't even seen in person.

Nothing more than the usual courtesies, pleasantries about the upcoming wedding and the union of the kingdoms, which was in fact the most important thing. In other words, what had made the whole situation happen.

After the proper introductions, you and Leon, along with the other guests, went to the room where the meeting was to take place, a spacious place that had been properly prepared for the occasion.

Soon the meeting began, with nothing but the usual fallacies and promises of the Kingdom's future prosperity.

Nothing you and Leon hadn't heard before, but you both knew that this was nothing more than a reinforcement of the future marriage.

That's because Leon's father always looked at him as he spoke, always made a point of leaving the word to his son every chance he got. He wanted to show his son's honor and pride

He needed to show all this to everyone present.

And even though Leon didn't like being the center of attention, he couldn't say no to his father, because unfortunately he was still following his father's orders.

After a few incessant hours, the meeting ended, with a certain exhaustion on the part of those present. After the farewells, which also seemed never-ending, you two headed down the corridors, approaching the stairs to go to your chambers.

As you walked slowly, you noticed the tired look on Leon's face, as he appeared to be completely drained.

"You did well, prince." You said in a sweet whisper, giving him an approving smile.

And then that was enough for him to look at you, giving you a brief smile, but one that never failed to make your heart flutter.

"Your presence was important, Your Highness." These could have been simple words, but you felt your knees weaken with them.

You chuckled, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.

Just as you were about to go upstairs, Leon's father called out to him from a distance, apparently wanting to talk to him about something personal.

You only heard a sigh come from Leon's lips, who then left you on the stairs to go on your way.

"I'll see you at dinner time." He says calmly, as he takes your covered hand and kisses the back of it. This time letting his lips linger there a little longer.

You get giddy every time he does that, your mind gets all messed up just feeling his lips like that.

With a charming smile, he bids you a courteous farewell and heads off in the direction of his father.

As soon as you walked the long stairs, you went straight to your bedroom, ready for a warm, comfortable bath before dinner.

But before you entered your room, something caught your eye. One of the maids was carrying a bouquet of flowers to Leon's room, and if you were being honest, the maid was in quite a hurry to carry the flowers.

From the way she was trying to sneak into Leon's room to put the flowers there, you could tell it was suspicious at best.

So you decided to go after the girl, to ask what she was doing. Slowly you approached, taking care not to alarm the woman or even make a fuss about it.

But even so, the young woman seemed to notice you, and unconsciously hid the bouquet behind her back in a clumsy way, as if to prevent you from seeing anything.

"Your Highness…" She stammered, trying to keep her composure and not get so nervous. Which failed if you were being honest.

You could see the apprehension in her wide eyes, just as her hands were shaking. What was so special about those flowers?

You nod, looking at her gently, "I imagine you're quite busy. You're in such a hurry."

You speak softly, just to level the waters, and even to appear unpretentious. She stuttered, only affirming with her head that she was in a hurry, not even trying to get into Leon's room.

"I… I was just passing by. I need to take these." She says, holding the flowers tightly, still in the same failed attempt to hide them from you.

You were about to ask one more question, but your eyes focused on a small piece of paper that had fallen to the floor, and looking at it you could tell it was a letter.

It wasn't long before you bent down and picked it up, holding it between your fingers. You didn't dare read it yet, because you already knew what it was about.

"Your Highness, this,—" You interrupt her discreetly, straightening your posture.

"I'm your highness, I don't suppose you have to hide anything from me," you then whispered, moving closer and standing in a spot where only you and she could hear each other, "Unless you're doing something wrong."

You didn't want to sound authoritative, but you just wanted to show a little sovereignty. You weren't going to let it go, under your nose was already too much.

"No, no princess." She says dimly, starting to get even more freaked out.

You didn't say much longer, your anxiety to read what was written on that letter was slowly eating away at you, and you had an overwhelming desire to find out what was there.

"Allow me." You whisper, gently taking the flowers from her hand. Carrying the bouquet in your arms.

Fresh lilies, just picked. They were kind of purplish in color, and smelled amazing. They were definitely beautiful.

The maid even tried to protest, but you dismissed her with a wave of your hand, heading for Leon's chambers. You soon entered the room, which was honestly not new to you, and you quickly closed the door behind you.

Once the silence hung in the air, you took a deep breath, looking at the flowers and the letter in your hand. And so you decided to look for a vase to put the delicate lilies in, and it wasn't hard to find, given the variety of things in Leon's room.

As soon as you placed the vase with the flowers next to Leon's bed, you decided it was time to read the letter in your hands.

The paper was all decorated, with beautiful calligraphy, as well as a few little hearts here and there. Certainly the kind of letter that lovers would exchange.

'Your favorites, handpicked. To the sweet prince, Leon. -A

You knew that this was supposed to be something intimate and that you shouldn't even be reading it, but even though it was such a subtle message, it still showed how close these two were.

Your lips trembled as you felt your vision blur. How complicated were things getting?

You even tried to push these thoughts away, thinking that maybe you were just thinking too much. But how could you do that?

How were you supposed to act as his second choice, even though you were the woman he was going to marry?

You froze once all your thoughts stopped and focused on the voice that called out to you from across the room.

"Your Highness? What are you doing here?" Leon's tone was low, as if he was completely serious and sharp with you.

You turned around, taking a deep breath and controlling your emotions, giving the sweetest, most polite smile you could manage at that moment.

"They're for you, prince." You say with a smile, as if you weren't aware of anything. The flowers weren't the first thing he focused on.

At the same moment you saw the color fade from his face, it became pale, almost the color of paper. For a split second you saw an expression of fear and surprise come over him.

His eyes widened and he took a small step towards you, but stopped at the same moment. You could even see his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed dryly, his body stiffening.

Did he really think he was hiding this secret well? How innocent it would be to think so. If the rest of the kingdom knew, why shouldn't you?

He wasn't very good at disguising it, in fact. What was he supposed to say? Wasn't it too obvious? Surely you wouldn't miss it, at least you already knew what it was about.

You moved closer to the flowers that you yourself had put in a vase, bringing your nose closer so that you could smell the lilies.

"They smell good, whoever sent it, they have great taste." You say calmly, arranging the flowers in the vase once again.

You could feel your hands starting to shake slightly, something about what you were doing didn't feel right.

But what else could you do? Maybe it was daring, but you couldn't help yourself.

Nobody liked being cheated on.

He opened his mouth for a few seconds, thinking of anything he could say.

But all that came out was a weak, 'Oh'. Before he approached you and took a look at the flowers that were there.

His fingertip brushed lightly against one of the flowers, looking at them with a certain tenderness. He obviously knew who it was from, or rather, who had sent him these flowers.

It was clearer than day.

"My mother probably sent one of the maids to buy these fresh flowers." He manages to stutter after a while, unable to face you fully.

His mother? What a lame excuse, you think.

You take a few more steps across the room, the sound of your heels echoing through the large room. You didn't even make a point of hiding the suspicious expression forming on your face.

You were quick to grab the small letter before he saw it, before he had even arrived in the room. You already knew, and you also knew that he wouldn't admit it.

However, you had proof in your hands, certainly an affair outside of the marriage relationship would not go down well with royalty, even more so coming from a renowned prince like him.

You simply had the perfect weapon in your hands, ready to be used any time you needed it. Not that you were going to do it now, you didn't even want to have to do it at some point.

However, you did have something useful in case you needed it. You didn't want to take any rash action that you might regret.

"I'll have those flowers put somewhere else,—" You interrupted him, looking at him with a gentle, sweet smile, as if you weren't tearing up inside.

"No need, I think it looks nice here." You murmured, taking the opportunity to smell the sweet scent of the flowers once again

The tension was palpable, the heavy atmosphere that soon formed in that room. Every gesture showed the unease that had formed, your lips trembled and you pressed them tightly together so as not to let anything show

But he noticed, he noticed the way your fists were clenched and that you were trembling slightly, as well as the drop of water forming in the corner of your eyes.

He knew that you might have suspected something, but what could he do? There was nothing he could say or do that would comfort you in any way.

It was as cruel for you as it was for him.

You exchanged silent but strangely meaningful glances, as if you were playing a game of chess.

The flowers and the letter became symbols of a game of appearances, where every gesture hid secrets that could dismantle the façade of a royal marriage.

And you both knew it, after all it was a game that only two could play, and you were both learning and understanding how this game would work.

It was certainly even worse in practice, but there was nothing you could do about it. Even more so, Leon was looking at the flowers in a somewhat puzzled way, but at the same time there was a certain gleam in his eye.

He couldn't hide that body language. Not even if he tried.

"If you wish, the flowers stay." He broke the silence, staring at you with that cold, penetrating gaze that was so mesmerizing.

You nodded, making a point of putting the flowers on the shelf next to his bed, acting as if you weren't interested or uncommitted to the whole thing.

God, you felt yourself breaking every time you looked at the petals, at the smell that wafted through the room.

"If the prince will excuse me, I'll go to my chambers." You said with the same sweet smile, bowing to him and leaving his room.

All you had in your ears was the sound of your heels clacking against the floor as you moved lightly to your own room.

Leon didn't say a word, he didn't even walk you to your usual bedroom door. You didn't know if it was anger or surprise, perhaps because he hadn't imagined that you would act so calmly.

Even though he could sense that you were hurt.

In the end, appearances would be kept up, even if the night had been stormy. One step at a time, day after day.

There was no such thing as a sad day in royalty, so you could already prepare your smile for the next day.

[dinogoofy]

Guys I'm having too many good ideas...!

So, Bi-han arranged marriage! Let's say that he and his wife don't get along well. She is stubborn, but very kind and loyal to her family, while Bi-han is a bit of an asshole and doesn't like her because she has her own beliefs and won't budge from them. She hates how the Lin kuei have been treating businesses and how scummy some of their practices are, and He hates that she's "so righteous" and above the work that they do.

They really don't get along, and then one day she gets kidnapped by someone who is enemies with the Lin Kuei.

She is hurt and tortured, but again, she's stubborn as hell. She doesn't break. The Lin kuei are made aware that the grandmaster's wife has been kidnapped, but Bi-han doesn't have much of a reaction besides sending someone to go find her. Besides, it's not like they'd get much use from her. She stays out of their dirty affairs so she'll be fine.

She goes through some shit, because even though she doesn't know anything, she knows that won't stop them from trying to get any information out of her. She stays dead silent the entire time she is kidnapped, furious the whole time. Part of her wants to hold out hope that her husband will come get her, but the majority of her believes that he'd let her rot.

Finally, someone finds her. But it's not her husband. (Smoke or kuai maybe?) She's severely hurt, but still stubborn enough to be furious that he couldn't be bother to come save his own Wife. They make it back to the Lin Kuei, and she spends her time avoiding Bi-han the first few days. Then, some of the clan elders start to get into Bi-hans head. She certainly broke. She leaked their location or joined the enemy. Look at her, she's weak and she doesn't support what our clan does. She must have broken.

So, Bi-han, enraged by the idea that she betrayed him, storms off to go find her.

When he does find her, she's getting ready to change. She's not letting her pain or soreness show through in front of a man she hates, and he scoffs, thinking that she was fine. That they probably went easy on her as she was so pitiful.

Bi-han is aggressive while asking if she broke. She rolls her eyes.

"It's been three weeks, and the first think you care about is if I broke." She huffs. Bi-han narrows his eyes. She shakes her head. "-and no. For your information. I didn't. You of all people should know I'm stubborn. As much as I don't like how you run this clan, I don't endanger my family."

Part of him doesn't want to believe her, but she starts to change, not caring if he's in the room, and something ugly inside him formes when he sees her deep bruises and cuts. Wounds on every part of her body.

At first he was angry at her, and now he's engulfed in rage at what they had done to HIS wife. A small, quiet part if his conscious is angry that he left her there, and he wasn't the one to find her and slaughter every man that laid a hand on her. He knew he could've found her much sooner than whoever he sent, but he didn't care. And this is what happened.

But he had learned to ignore his consciousness long ago.

Before the incident, She would have tried to speak to him when he could. Simply trying to be cordial and polite. She would ask him what he wanted to eat that night, or ask him if he was okay after a particularly rough mission. Just because she didn't really like him or what he does, doesn't mean she wasn't willing to try.

After she was kidnapped however, that stopped.

She stoped speaking to him. She avoided him whenever she could. She couldn't care less when he left or when he came back. He abandoned her with torchurers. Why would she?

This starts to irk Bi-han. One day, he comes home and she's still avoiding him. He gets fed up with it and confronts her. She basically rolls her eyes and tries to avoid him, but he grabs her by the arms, careful not to press into her bruises, and gets into her space. She's taken aback by the closeness, but her expression hardens.

"Why should I care about you, when you left me to die." She snarls. Bi-han is enraged.

"You think that your kidnapping didn't effect me?! You don't even know how the sight of your bruises enrage me! I have slaughtered every man who laid a hand on you. Do you understand that?!" Bi-han is acting like a wild animal. He's breathing hard, his eyes narrowed and filled with rage. All she can do is stare. Her face has softened. She doesn't knownwhat to say. Bi-han's face morphs when he realises how close he is to her, and he lets her go and steps back aggressively. He stalks off without another word, leaving her confused, unable to cone to terms with the fact that the ever-cold Bi-han would ever be this emotional over someone he doesn't even like.

Right...?

[the-king-andthe-lionheart]

This fanon notion that Ned was a bad father to Sansa is absolutely ridiculous and not remotely based in canon. Like Sansa stans are just mad that Ned didn’t mistreat Arya because Sansa stans hate Arya and want everyone to treat Arya like shit

Exactly @daenerysthevampireslayerr

They can't stand that Arya is one of the Key Five and is important to the story. They also can't stand that she's in GRRM's top 3 favorite characters. And because Sansa isn't among these groupings, they are ridiculously jealous and believe that Arya deserves to be punished. It's also why whenever a character shows love or loyalty towards Arya, treats her like a human being, or a plot is about her, or she does something good and heroic or political, they erase her. Jon deserts the NW and dies for Arya? Erased. LSH and the BWB+Gendry are glaringly obviously looking for Arya? Erased. Brienne's quest about finding Sansa leads her on a journey following Arya's path and learning more about Arya's fate after her escape from KL? Erased. The Northerner's rising up in Ned's and Arya's names? Erased. Arya successfully pulling off a coup in Harrenhal that wins the castle for Robb? Erased. Arya hearing Ned's voice (not Bran's voice) through the weirwood at Harrenhal that gives her the strength to try to escape? Erased. Arya saving 4 people from a burning barn, including a toddler she later cares for? Erased. Arya being the second most powerful skinchanger after Bran? Erased. Arya learning all the same skills as Varys? Erased.

The fandom just loves erasing Arya's importance, her themes, her actual arc, her intelligence, the political skills she is learning, and the context in which she does things, just so they can prop other characters like Sansa up. But it's so pervasive that they've convinced so many other fans of this too, and it didn't help that we have misogynistic dudebros and incels in this fandom who overly criticize Arya for things that they applaud in the male characters. Like seriously, Arya has done nothing worse than what Ned has done, but which one in the fandom is deemed "good" and "honorable"? Ned.

But what's funny about these people is how they clearly can't read. The reason why Ned kept talking to Arya, is because he was blaming her for the fights with Sansa, and thought that Arya was the problem when it came to Septa Mordane. He was admonishing her. The reason why he got Arya water dancing lessons was to keep her busy, and he obviously knew it would be a good outlet that would teach Arya to focus her anger, and gain more discipline and patience. He never intended on the lessons to go far. He thought it was a phase she would grow out of before conforming into a southern lady. The reason why he said Syrio could come to Winterfell with them, but that Sansa couldn't say good-bye to Joffrey, is because Syrio wasn't a freaking Lannister, and the point of them leaving secretly had to do with the Lannister's being dangerous. But apparently that's favoritism and it means he didn't love Sansa? Even if Arya was his favorite, he clearly loved Sansa enough to think Sansa was well-behaved enough that she would never dare be the instigator towards Arya.

They want Arya severely punished in this story, but it's not even just Ned they want to punish her. Lately I've even been seeing disturbing things about them wanting Gendry to rape her. Imagine wanting a 12 year old to be raped or sexually assaulted, even a fictional one. It's disgusting and it's unhinged. They want Arya to suffer unimaginable torments but as soon as someone mentions an ending for Sansa that doesn't include Sansa being queen and having a Disney fairy tale ending they shriek and cry and send death threats. And I'm not even talking about people theorizing that Sansa will go dark or die by the end. I'm talking about people getting ulcers from the mere suggestion of Sansa ending the series in an arranged marriage and that she might have to seek love outside of her marriage considering GRRM loves tragic romances. But no, Arya and Dany are the special punching bags in this fandom, who deserve horrible things done to them, for... *checks notes*: "Doing the exact same things the male characters are doing and being praised for".

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Cinderella Snapped (Before Finding a Prince)

Hamish x MC

Will this hold up when Fusebox introduces him? Probably hell no. But it’s for @rebelrayne so here we go 😂

Her father had been so convinced it was a good deal.

She had been raised to be well groomed, university educated- a proper lady.

Her appearance was always tailored, never a hair out of place, make up never smudged.

Her friends required her father’s approval to be seen in public together, restrictions meant to prevent unsavory rumors spreading.

And it was all meant to ensure this business deal- this political marriage- was the best move for both families.

But her… fiancé had other plans.

Georgina’s father blamed her as the tabloids ran rampant with the story- Jasper Ramsden had run away with his mistress.

Georgina didn’t consider Allegra to fit the title she was given- the two of them had fallen in love, something she didn’t share with him.

What poisoned her feeling of friendship- camaraderie- that she shared with Jasper, was the fact that the day before he ran away with Allgre, he accused Georgie of being high maintenance. Claimed she was expecting him to be the Prince Charming to her Cinderella.

She had snapped, feeling disregarded and unseen.

So the engagement had fallen apart.

Her father had tried to play it off- push out the idea that the engagement had never been and that there was only meant to be business dealings between the family businesses. He still tried to find her another ‘suitable’ match- only to be shut down by the prominent families he approached. Jasper’s family had tried to reach out again, make a new arrangement when Allegra abandoned him at the altar to run off with the wedding planner, but he refused to allow him a second chance to embarrass them.

And it left her feeling like a dirt speck in his otherwise perfect reputation.

Tom was her best mate, their families had also been close. He was never an option for her father’s candidates list- not since he met Summer- but Tom was still there for her. One of her few approved friends.

“The guy was no good for you anyway,” Summer was blunt in her comfort, but it was refreshing for Georgina to have someone like that when everyone treated her with politeness or kid gloves. “It isn’t your fault the guy was a slimeball that couldn’t have the decency to tell you to your face he wasn’t going to follow through with it. And to come at you like he wasn’t getting more of the deal than he was? It’s bullshit.”

Tom rubbed her shoulder, calming the annoyed tirade, “Georgie isn’t upset he left her-“

“She’s embarrassed!”

“-they weren’t together in any romantic sense.”

“Guys,” Georgina cut in, “You know I’m still here, right?” She raised an eyebrow, half hanging off the stupidly large canopy bed in her room to look at where they sat on her unbelievably uncomfortable sofa across the annoyingly marble floor. She always hated that the plush carpets and normal furniture were off limits because her father deemed them for ‘commoners’. “I don’t care that he wanted someone else- I don’t care that the engagement fell apart. I care that my father blames me- that all he sees is a failure of a daughter. It’s not my fault I can’t control someone’s whims! Is it really not enough to be top of my class every year since primary school? To graduate from uni with honors and Suma Cum Laude??”

Tom hummed, “You’ve essentially been running the company for him anyway, bringing in more clients than he had in years.”

“Exactly! I’m a goddamn CEO!” She huffed, slumping further on the bed until her head was almost resting on the annoyingly marble floor. “Why am I just not good enough?”

Summer stood up, her heels clicking harshly at the floor, “That’s it, let’s go.”

“Go where?” Georgina questioned, finally shifting upright- her eyes swimming in stars as the blood she’d pooled in her head rushed back to the proper parts of her body.

“A club. A friend of mine always assured me the owner is a stand up gent- no worries about tabloids or paps getting any unsavory pictures.” She grabbed hold of Georgina’s arm, heaving her up and onto her feet, “To your… honestly, I’m jealous of it, but- to your stupidly large walk in closet!” Tom chuckled as they disappeared through the door, knowing how much his best mate hated growing up surrounded by luxury. She gave more money away than she spent, invested in helping people that couldn’t afford simple things.

How Jasper ever thought she was high maintenance he didn’t understand.

The club was bustling when they arrived, the bouncer greeted Summer by name, letting the three of them in with relatively no fuss- excluding the surprised few seconds after he recognized Tom and Georgina- and the owner was waiting to greet them inside.

“Ciaran!” Summer gave him a brief hug, “Tommy, you remember Ciaran. No fada on the A. Ciaran, this is Georgie.”

“Pleasure to meet ya,” the red headed man greeted, “James is tendin’ the bar tonight, he’ll take care of ya. Any issues, feel free to find me.”

He was gone as quickly as he appeared in front of them, greeting new guests as Summer dragged them over to the bar and ordered drinks.

It wasn’t long before they were finally enjoying themselves, Georgie broke away from them on the dance floor to get another drink- only to stumble in her heels and run into someone as she made her way to the bar. “Oh! I’m so sorry, did I spill anything on you?”

“No worries, lass,” the man in question offered his arm, helping her regain her balance.

Holy shit, he was handsome.

“Can I buy you a drink or something?” When did she gets this bold? “As an apology, of course.”

His smile was warm, like they were longtime friends instead of strangers on a night out, and his brown eyes held nothing but sincerity, “I believe I should be buying a lady as lovely as you one. Do me the honor of joining me for a drink, and I will accept your apology.”

Georgie laughed, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was how familiar he felt, but she never felt like she could really laugh around anyone but Tom and Summer before. “Yeah, okay. Might I ask your name?”

“Hamish.” He offered easily, “Yours?”

“You can call me Georgie.”

Waking up the next morning, she was kind she hand let Summer talk her into going even more overboard. Her head felt like someone was trying to give her a lobotomy, but she still remembered everything- from the drink to dancing with a stranger all night. He moved surprisingly gracefully for someone in the club scene, leading her more through fast paced slow dancing or swing dance type moves than the customary body grind. It ended when he kissed her hand and bud her fair well at the end of the night.

A heavy knock on her door made her groan silently, “Yes?”

“Georgina, please come downstairs. I’ve finally found you a new fiancé. His family returned my call this morning, he will be here within the hour.”

Oh, god, she groaned quietly again.

She had actually managed to forget about that last night.

Just imagine her surprise when, after downing her lovable cook’s hangover special and fitting into her socially accepted attire, she found herself seated next to her father and across from her new fiancé.

A certain Hamish Ross.

The wedding was scheduled right away, a year from their ‘meeting’ date, and Georgie had been curious as the months went on as to why Hamish agreed.

He was attractive, there was no denying that she had been interested in him when they met. He was well off. He was polite and kind.

There was no reason he shouldn’t have found someone before her.

He told her a story, something about meeting a rich girl as his parents dragged him to their company. She had been playing with kids from a neighborhood, they clearly didn’t know her but she didn’t care. Even as her father yelled at her that they were beneath, all she wanted was to be a kid. To be friendly.

Something about the story stuck with her, like it was familiar but not.

But as the months went on, she got something from him she hadn’t expected.

Love.

So the day of their wedding, she was nervous. It wasn’t cold feet, she didn’t want to run away.

She was afraid she’d end up hurt if she allowed herself to believe this was more than it was.

But he made her want to, with the way he looked at her as she walked toward him.

The softness in his eyes, the tears that filled his lash line with the affection that radiated through his smile.

She was too caught up in the whirlwind of her own emotions to listen to the minister.

Until…

“If anyone has any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Yeah, I object!”

Her jaw dropped open, staring in horror as Jasper confidently sauntered his way through the pews and up the aisle, “You have no say here!” She snapped at him, “You’ve made your feelings clear.”

He just smirked, “Doesn’t matter. See, I have this contract, signed by you, agreeing to be my wife in exchange for our companies working together.”

She almost saw red, almost tore him apart in front of their guests, but Hamish stepped between them, “Ah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Jasper rolled his eyes, “I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to my fiancé.”

Hamish tsked, shaking his head, “Except she isn’t your fiancé.” He waved to a gentleman sitting just a few rows back, who stepped and reached into his briefcase, handing her groom a set of documents, “This contract- the one you both signed- well, my firm has torn it apart. Usually we work on slumlord cases pro bono for the tenants, or other types of things where people just need help. But I took special interest in this. Nowhere in there does it say she actually needs to perform the marriage. It’s entirely about the joining of your companies. Which you voided with your infidelity.”

Jasper’s eyes widened, hands flying to flip through the pages in his hands. He worked finance, he didn’t understand all the legal jargon. “No- that’s- you must be mistaken.”

“I am not.” Hamish gave him a genial smile, “I have a lot of year trying to find the friendly little girl that left an imprint on my heart, made me want to be there for people that needed me rather than wanted me. And I’m not going to let you take her away.” He waved his hands, two bodyguards emerging from the back of the church and hauling Jasper away in disgrace, but Georgie was focused on Hamish.

“That story… that was-“

“You.” He shrugged, giving her the same smile that had been making her heart melt for months. “It was why I agreed to your father’s proposal. I had also been looking for you.”

She didn’t care that it wasn’t time yet.

The bride kissed the groom.

[queenshelby]

The Maid – Part One of Three

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Virgin!Reader

Words: 5095

Warning: Smut

Summary: It was Sunday Evening and you working at a nightclub in London. This was your first job and today you were to meet an interesting man who would make you a job offer that you couldn’t refuse. When you took up the job with him, you got so much more than you bargained for.

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal  @chrisevanshoeee  @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse  @captivatedbycillianmurphy  @fookingshelby  @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  

--------

Meeting a Stranger

‘Good Evening Sir, may I get you a drink?’ you asked as you looked up into his deep blue eyes.

‘Whiskey. Irish please’ the man said without looking at you as he lit himself a cigarette.

It was unusual for men in this establishment not to make eye contact. It was almost like he was disinterested in his surroundings.

When he lifted up his whiskey glass, you noticed his wedding band. Of course, he was married and here to cheat on his wife.

She probably no longer satisfied his needs. But what did you know? Being 19 years old and rather shy, you had never been with a man.

It wasn’t long until the mistress arrived at the bar which also was unusual. He must be a special guest if the mistress herself was taking the time to talk to him.

‘Mr Shelby, I apologise, but Laura is absent tonight. Clara might be of interest’ the mistress said.

‘Not Clara. Someone new’ he responded.

‘Of course. I will make arrangements’ the mistress said before excusing herself.

Just as the mistress had left, the man ordered a second glass of whiskey.

‘Your name is Shelby?’ you asked surprised as you served him. ‘Are you related to Thomas Shelby by any chance?’ you added.

Without a response, he finally looked up at you. His eyes widened and his facial expression changed, almost like he had seen a ghost.

‘Is everything alright?’ you asked as you didn’t receive a response to your question.

‘You remind me of someone I used to know’ he responded. ‘You just look like her’ he added.

‘So I’ve been told. It’s a shame I never got to meet her’ you said, knowing exactly that he was talking about your half sister Greta Jurossi.

Greta and her mother passed away of consumption before you were born. Your father became very upset by their passing and found comfort in your mother who he fathered two children with. You were the oldest.

Your half-sister Kitty Jurossi spoke about Thomas Shelby quite frequently as the love of Greta’s life. They had been together since they were 16 and you know that he left for France shortly after Greta passed at the age of 19.

Just as Tommy introduced himself to you and began asking you questions, the mistress returned and advised Tommy that arrangements had been made.

‘I changed my mind’ Tommy said. ‘Although, I would like Miss Jerossi to accompany me. I will cover her wages for the night’ Tommy said, causing your heart to skip a beat.

‘Mr Shelby, I am afraid to inform you that she has no experience. She is not one of our working girls. She is simply a barmaid. Although, if you insist and this is something you wish to explore further, we could perhaps come to some to an arrangement’ the mistress said.

You were speechless and felt like you were auctioned off to the highest bidder.

‘I am not intending to fuck her. I would simply like to continue our conversation, eh’ Tommy said sheepishly, catching the mistress by surprise.

‘This should be enough for her time and for you to put another barmaid on for the evening’ he added as he handed her 10 pounds.

‘Of course, Mr Shelby, thank you’ the mistress said before telling you to get your coat.

You grabbed your coat and met Tommy at the front of the club. Just as you arrived, he had lid himself a cigarette.

‘Common’ he said before you followed him to his car.

‘Where are we going?’ you asked. You were still slightly uncomfortable about the situation unfolding right in front of you.

‘A place I know’ he said as he drove off and, within ten minutes, you pulled up in front of a nightclub of a different kind. It was full of artists, a band was playing in the background and everyone enjoyed champaign and cocaine.

‘Common, have a seat’ Tommy said as he sat down with you in a somewhat private area.

He ordered you a drink and began to talk about Greta, his long-lost love. You were still unsure why you were there, with him. Whilst he asked you several questions about your life and your circumstances, it was mostly him who was doing the talking.

After several hours of talking, on the stroke of midnight, Tommy made you a proposal which was too good to refuse.

He offered you a job in Birmingham, as a maid. Apparently, his household was short-staffed and his wife needed more assistance. He was of the view that working in an up-market brothel as a barmaid was no job for a woman like you. Somehow, he didn’t know you, but he cared. He was concerned that, the longer you work there, the more likely it will become that you be asked to do more than just serve drinks.

His offer was kind and you accepted it with caveat that you had no experience as a maid.

He assured you that you will learn all you need to know on the job.

New Life

A week after your encounter with Thomas Shelby, your new life began.

You were introduced to the household and tried the best you could to settle in.

Most days, you were on your own with the other maids, Elizabeth Shelby, who was Tommy’s wife and Tommy’s two children.

Tommy’s wife Lizzie disliked you for obvious reasons. She insisted on older and experienced maids and it was evident to her why Tommy had hired you.

For a while you tried very hard to make Lizzie like you, but nothing took away the apprehension she had in respect of you.

Whilst you could understand her concerns, Tommy had never made any advances towards you. After all, you were much younger than him.

But, over the next few weeks, you learned why Lizzie was so apprehensive. Her marriage to Tommy was on the verge of breaking.

According to Sarah, one of the maids, Tommy and Lizzie were no longer sleeping in the same bedroom and she overheard Lizzie speaking to a solicitor in London to ascertain what her options were if she was to divorce him.

Sarah was of the view that there is no love between Tommy and Lizzie. There never has been.

Lizzie enjoyed the life and the money. Apparently, she used to be a working girl in Birmingham and this is how she met Tommy.

They used to sleep together, quite frequently, until one day she fell pregnant. When Tommy became a member of parliament, he married her. Clearly, he had to appear to be doing the right thing in a position like that.

Sarah herself had her eyes on Tommy and was the only other young maid who managed to stay. For some reason not apparent to you, Lizzie tolerated her. Perhaps she knew too much. After all, one of the reasons maids stayed at the Shelby household was because they were paid well, much better than in other households. Sarah was one of the few maids who had access to Thomas Shelby’s office and it was likely that she had to put a blind eye on the illegal activities Thomas Shelby engaged in.

Every Thursday Evening at 8 o’clock, Sarah would go to Tommy’s office and she would be there for an hour exactly. You timed it, right to the second, every week.

One week, you managed to quietly pass by the office on a Thursday evening at half past eight and you could hear them being intimate.

To your surprise, despite their weekly encounters, Tommy was cold towards her. He didn’t treat her differently to any of the other maids. It appeared to you that the sex they have was no more than another business transaction for Tommy.

Whilst Tommy wasn’t around much, when he was, he was different with you. He was kind and warm in his own way. You were the youngest maid in the household and even Francis said that you get away with mistakes that aren’t usually tolerated because Mr Shelby seems to have soft spot for you. Sometimes, he would even smile at you and you began to like him more than you should have liked a man his age. Sometimes, you even imagined what it would be like if it was you in Tommy’s office with him instead of Sarah.

To your surprise, after a month of you being at the Shelby house, Tommy started to call you into his office as well. You recalled the first time. It was a Tuesday evening, 8 o’clock and you were nervous.

Whilst you could imagine yourself sleeping with him, you had never been with a man before.

But, intimacy and sex was not what Tommy was after. He simply enjoyed your company and you would talk for hours, about horses, racing and politics.

Like a real gentleman, he kept his distance, offering you a drink and a cigarette while you talked and talking was all you ever did.

Sarah noticed reasonably quickly that your Tuesday night encounters with Tommy became a habit and once she even overheard you referring to him as Tommy as opposed to Mr Shelby.

Tommy insisted that you call him Tommy when you talked in private. It was not part of your work and he said that he felt old every time you called him ‘Mr Shelby’.

As another four weeks had passed, you could see the man within him who your step sister fell in love with and Kitty had spoken so highly about. He appeared to you every Tuesday evening at 8 o’clock, a different man.

Mistakes Happen

To Lizzie’s and Francis’s annoyance, you made many mistakes. Burnt toast was just one of them. But none of that bothered Tommy.

As it has happened, one day you even managed to break an incredibly expensive vase as you paid more attention to Tommy getting dressed through the crack of his bedroom door. It was a sheer accident which probably wouldn’t have happened if you paid more attention to what you were doing at the time rather than Tommy’s naked chest.

‘I am so sorry Mr Shelby, I didn’t mean to drop this’ you said, totally embarrassed and flustered as the vase dropped to the floor and, hearing the shatter, Tommy emerged from his bedroom.

‘It’s alright Y/N, seriously. It’s just a vase, eh’ Tommy said with a smile on his face as he bent over, helping you to collect the pieces.

‘Please Mr Shelby, I can do this’ you said with some embarrassment. Your cheeks were flushed by the sight of him, wearing nothing but his suit pants.

Tommy’s eyes gazed over to you as he picked up the pieces and it was clear to you that he noticed your flushed cheeks.

‘Tommy, what are you doing?’ Lizzie said as she observed him collecting pieces of broken porcelain with you from the floor.

‘What does it look like Lizzie?’ Tommy asked. It was clear to you that they were fighting, again. They always fought. Sometimes you wondered why they were married at all.

The constant arguing between Tommy and Lizzie was exhausting. It exhausted everyone, even the maids.

‘I’ve got it Mr Shelby, please’ you said as you put more pieces of the broken vase into a bucket.

‘See, she’s got it Tommy, now would you please see Arthur. He is downstairs yelling and Charles has started to pick up the swear words’ Lizzie said.

‘Alright Lizzie, fuck’ he said as he got up and left you to it. As you were cleaning up the last of the broken pieces, you overheard Lizzie talk to Ada about you.

‘I really don’t know why Thomas had to employ her instead of someone more experienced’ she said.

‘She looks exactly like Greta, his first ever love, that’s why Lizzie’ Ada responded.

‘Well then he should have left her at the whorehouse and visit her there’ Lizzie said frustrated before walking off.

Lizzie’s comment made you rather upset and you were beginning to feel even more uncomfortable at the house with every day that went by.

Lizzie had begun to notice Tommy’s favouritism towards you and it was clear to you that she did not want you around.

After another two weeks, you couldn’t bare it any longer and decided to resign. The tension between you and Lizzie had become too much to tolerate.

You handed your written resignation to Tommy at noon on a Monday and, just as he read it, he walked to his office door and closed it behind him.

‘Sit down Y/N, have a drink’ Tommy said, causing you to flush.

‘Common’ Tommy said as he poured yourself a glass of whiskey, neat, before sitting down on one of the arm chairs.

You sat down across from him as he handed you the glass of whiskey.

‘I cannot accept this’ he said as he took a sip from his glass.

‘Tommy, I cannot continue to work for you. I am not suited for this job and I am fairly sure that neither your wife nor Francis like me very much’ you explained.

‘That might be right but, in the end of the day, I make the decisions, eh’ Tommy said. ‘And I would like you to stay’ he added.

‘Why? You can easily find a better maid’ you laughed.

‘Because you are smart Y/N and I enjoy your company. Please’ Tommy said.

‘Alright, I will give it another month and then reconsider’ you said.

‘Good’ Tommy smiled. ‘I see you tomorrow at the usual time?’ he asked, causing you to nod with a smile.

It was difficult for you to deny Tommy especially since your attraction towards him was growing, becoming almost unhealthy in a way. Why would you feel like this around a man who was twice your age? You wanted him and stayed around in the hope that he would offer you more than employment.

And just like this, with Thomas Shelby in the back of your mind, you went on with your work.

It’s Fucking Tuesday

Tuesday evening approached quickly and you couldn’t wait to see Tommy.

At 8 o’clock, you sneaked into his office as usual, barefoot and without knocking so that no one would notice.

Little did you know that, that evening, you would reveal a lot more to Tommy than you had initially anticipated.

As such, after two glasses of whiskey and a couple of cigarettes, you spoke honestly about your political views. You too were in support of communism and felt as though Tommy had lost his way in his political campaigns for the Labour Party.

‘The good old cause, eh’ Tommy laughed after you outlined to him where the Labour Party went wrong in your opinion. ‘You know Y/N, you remind me of someone, someone who was just as idealistic and passionate about changing the world as you are’ he added.

‘I’ve been told that before, by my father. He used to get rather frustrated with us both’ you said.

‘Kitty said that you were idealistic and in favour of an armed revolution once yourself. But then she told me that all of this changed after the war. The same Tommy never came back from France. You had changed. But I am not sure if I am willing to believe that’ you added.

‘No one came back Y/N’ Tommy said. ‘The war changed everyone’ he added.

‘That is true but, I think that the Tommy she spoke so highly about many years ago is still in there somewhere. I’ve seen it. You are still a man with ideals and a man who cares, even if you don’t want to admit it. If you didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here’ you said as you walked over in front of where Tommy was sitting in order to fill up your glass of whisky.

For a moment, you placed your empty glass on to the desk besides him and kneeled down in front of him.

‘You are a good man, Tommy. A good man who does bad things sometimes where necessary and the world needs more men just like you’ you said before you leaned in and pressed your lips onto his.

Without the two glasses of whiskey, you would never have been able to build up the courage to do this, but there you were, kissing Thomas Shelby.

Tommy gave into the kiss for a moment, his lips dancing with yours but his hands not leaving his chair.

‘This is wrong Y/N’ Tommy said as your lips drifted apart.

‘Yes’ you said before pressing your lips back onto his for a short moment. ‘Yes, it is’ you added and, just in that moment, Tommy leaned forward caressing your face and returning the kiss.  

This is what you wanted for so long, his lips on yours and your tongues exploring each other.

After about a minute, Tommy pulled away, looking into your dark eyes.

‘This is a bad idea Y/N’ Tommy said again, still cupping your face.

‘Well, then tell me that you don’t want me and I will leave right now’ you said.

‘I want you alright, but you are half my age’ Tommy said.

‘So what? You are Thomas Shelby, you can have whoever you want’ you said and, just like that, your hands reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it slowly.

You could hear Tommy inhale deeply and knew exactly that he likes to be pleasured this way. You had never done any of this, but the working girls at the brothel spoke about it frequently. Sometimes, you saw them do it, in a quite corner of the club or the lavatories if the men liked to be watched.

‘Have you ever done this before?’ Tommy asked, looking down at you, his hand tangled in your hair. He could tell that you were nervous and completely out of your comfort zone.

You shook your head shyly and, as much as Tommy wanted to feel your mouth on his cock, he wanted you to feel entirely comfortable with what you were doing.

‘Come up’ he said, taking your hands and guiding you up towards him before pressing his lips onto yours for a passionate kiss.

‘You don’t want me to?’ you asked as you broke the kiss and Tommy buckled up his belt.

‘Trust me, I want you to’ Tommy smirked, cupping your face again.

‘But not like this’ Tommy said before giving you another kiss.

Just after your lips drifted apart, your eyes wandered downwards where could see Tommy’s erection pushing against his pants. He clearly was ready and you wondered why he stopped you.

‘Tomorrow, after 10 o’clock, in your room. If you want me to come, you leave your bedside lamp on. I will see the light through the bottom of the door. If you don’t want me to come then turn it off and I won’t, alright?’ Tommy said.

Tommy wanted you to be sure about this. Not influenced by whiskey and not in the heat of the moment.

You agreed to his suggestion and, after a few more kisses, you left his office.

A Night to Remember

The next evening, after you finished work for the day and had dinner, you made your way to your room. You had a bath, washed your hair and got dressed in some lingerie.

The fire was lid and, just as instructed, you left on the bedside lamp. It was only 9 o’clock and you had to wait another hour before Tommy would meet you. You tried to kill the time by reading a book, but you couldn’t think about anything but Tommy and what was about to happen.

You wondered what it would be like to be with a man, especially a man like him. He was clearly experienced. Nonetheless, you were worried that it would be painful.

Five minutes to ten, you put the book that you weren’t really reading aside and put on some perfume. You wanted to smell nice for him.

You positioned yourself on the bed, seductively. Your black lace underwear was highlighted by the light of the bedside lamp. Your hair was open, your curls running over your shoulders. Your porcelain pale skinned was complimented by the dark red lipstick you had borrowed from one of the maids.

Waiting impatiently, just as the clock stroke ten, you could hear the door opening.

‘You look beautiful’ Tommy smirked.

‘Just for you’ you said shyly, taking in a deep breath as Tommy walked over towards you.

He was wearing nothing but underpants and you couldn’t help but stare at his perfect body.

It wasn’t long until he climbed onto the bed with you and his lips met yours for a passionate kiss.

The kiss was urgent and his lips tasted like sweet whiskey. He took his time, his hands roaming over your body while his tongue was dancing with yours.

It wasn’t long until he found the clip of your bra and he opened it with ease.

‘If I would have known that it would come off so quickly, I wouldn’t have spent half my weekly wage on it’ you giggled.

‘Just an unnecessary piece of fabric’ Tommy chuckled as his fingers began to trace the lines of your body, curving around your now naked breasts, stroking and teasing your nipples.

His lips soon moved from your mouth down to your neck and then all the way to your breasts.

‘Mmhm’ you moaned as he began to bite your nipples gently while his hands roamed downwards to your stomach and then your lace panties.

Tommy hooked his thumbs in your panties and slowly drew them down your legs, leaving you totally exposed.

While kissing over your breasts gently, one of his hands moved directly in between your legs and his index finger traced through your wet slit, dipping into slightly.

You inhaled sharply and tensed up suddenly and unintentionally. Tommy could feel your body become stiff and your legs closing around his hand.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ Tommy asked as he moved upwards slightly, worried that this was too much too soon for you.

‘No Tommy, I want you’ you said desperately before pressing your lips back onto his.

‘Please’ you then said again as your lips drifted apart.

‘Alright. I will take it slow and you will tell me if I hurt you or if you want me to stop. Agreed?’ he said, causing you to nod.

And just like that, his lips met your again before he started to trail kisses down your body.

Just as he reached your stomach, he stopped and lowered himself further, right in between your legs.

Tommy hooked one of your calves around his shoulder and then started kissing up your ankle, your calf, your knee.

You had no idea what he was doing until he got closer and closer to your already soaking wet mound.

‘Tommy, what are you doing?’ you asked nervously. His face was so close to your most intimate parts that you flushed from embarrassment.

‘You’ll see’ he smirked just before, all of a sudden, he dipped his tongue to meet your sex.

‘Oh god’ you cried out, partly from pleasure and partly from the exhilaration of a sensation entirely foreign to your body.

He drew lazy circles around your clit, making your legs twitch of their own volition. Your hand nestled in Tommy’s hair, stroking it as you moaned.

Tommy adapted quickly, gauging your moans and learning your sweet spots.

While his tongue circled over your client, he carefully and slowly pushed a finger into you.

You tensed, but relaxed quickly as you couldn’t feel any pain.

He began to thrust it in and out in time with the rhythm of his tongue.

You felt dizzy, quivering with anticipation as heat pooled deep in your belly.

You whimpered, whispering "please" over and over again as you felt yourself on the verge of exploding. No orgasm you had ever given yourself had been like this—it felt electric.

Tommy could soon feel your walls tightening around his finger and increased the speed of his thrusts.

You clapped a hand over your mouth and screamed as you came, your back arching, legs shaking, hips grinding against him. Even after you were past your highest peak, you felt the energy tingling, jolting through you, inspiring little sighs.

When you opened your eyes, you saw him grin, wiping your nectar from his face with the back of his hand.

‘I think you are ready now eh’ he smirked before taking off his underpants.

He was large, larger than you had imagined.

You took in a deep breath, knowing exactly what was to come next.

Tommy could see the nervousness and concern on your face.

‘Don’t worry, I will go slow and we can stop at any time, alright’ he said as he positioned himself in between your legs.

‘Tommy, are you sure it will fit, I mean…’ you said nervously and, before you could finish your sentence, Tommy interrupted you with a mild chuckle.

‘It will fit Love’ he said before his lips met yours again for passionate kiss.

As he was kissing you gently, he positioned his cock at your entrance and began to press just the head into you.

It felt warm and moist.

Tommy’s normally-cool countenance was wide-eyed and intense as he began pushing into you.

Your breath hissed out in tandem as he began to stretch you open and you couldn’t help it but hold onto his upper arms tightly.

Pushing into you inch by inch, you groaned when he finally met the resistance of your hymen.

‘Tommy, please’ you moaned as you squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself for what was coming.

Tommy leaned forward, slowly pushing through the resistance.

You both struggled to contain your yelps of pain and pleasure as he tore through you.

Your eyes welled up with tears as your recovered from the white-hot sharpness, but before long it was replaced by a feeling of blissful fullness. You fluttered open my eyes and gave him a lazy smile.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked, holding still, allowing you to adjust to his size. His voice was throaty and intense.

‘Yes’. I feel so... fucking... full’ you giggled and, just like that, he began to push deeper, then rocked his hips back out.

He thrusted in a slow, deliberate rhythm, working his cock into you inch by inch.

Every new thrust stretched you out beyond what you thought you could handle.

He looked down in a moment of surprise as your hips began to grind against him, trying to work his cock in and out of you. He chuckled, re-positioning himself for leverage, and began to fuck you.

He began with slower, shallower strokes, finding his rhythm and stretching you out. You could tell that he wanted to go faster, but your walls were gripping too tight for him to pound you just yet without hurting you.

You could see the hunger in Tommy’s features, feel it as his hand tangled in your hair and gave it a sharp tug.

The tug distracted you and gave him the opportunity he needed to thrust hard and deep into you.

You cried out, and the lingering pain in your body was suddenly replaced by explosive pleasure. You threw your arms around his neck and he drew his hips back before pounding you with another powerful thrust, and another, and another.

The sensations—the sound of your bodies slapping together, the smell of sex, the feeling of his body pounding into you—collided suddenly in a violent eruption, and you couldn't contain your cries of pleasure as you came for the second time.

Your pleasure and the feel of your walls spasming around him sent Tommy into overdrive.

He pounded you harder and harder, before tensing and releasing his seed inside you with a shuddering roar.

You both gasped for breath, covered in sweat, hearts racing from the heat of your encounter. His lips met yours in a deep kiss, and you tasted yourself again on his tongue.

‘You are so fucking beautiful’ Tommy said in between kisses before he finally pulled out of you, causing some of his cum mixed with some of your mildly blood-stained juices leak on the sheet.

‘Will you stay with me for the night?’ you asked as you pressed your cheek onto Tommy’s warm chest.

‘You know I can’t’ Tommy said as he ran his hand through your hair.  ‘But I’ll stay until you fall asleep eh’ he added before pressing his lips onto to yours yet again.

And so he did, he stayed with you until you drifted off to sleep.

The Aftermath

The next morning, you woke up early. Somewhat sore but full of energy.

Tommy didn’t have to tell you that, what happened last night, had to remain a secret.

Nonetheless, you hoped that you would have an encounter like this with him again soon.

To your surprise, when you got dressed, you noticed the stains on the white sheets.

You pulled them off quickly and decided to get them into the wash before the other maids had to use the laundry facilities.

As you walked into the laundry room with your sheets, you saw Sarah.

‘You are up early?’ you asked surprised.

‘Charles was sick last night and I have to clean his sheets. I think he doesn’t tolerate cows’ milk to be honest’ she said.

‘What about you?’ she asked.

‘Washing my sheets before it gets too busy’ you said shyly.

‘Didn’t you just wash your sheets?’ Sarah asked, taking them off your hands.

‘Sarah, please, let me’ you said. ‘It’s this time of the month’ you said nervously, lying of course, but trying to justify the somewhat small but obvious stains on your sheets.

‘Don’t worry, if I can clean up vomit, I can clean up anything. Despite, you don’t know how to use the new machine’ Sarah chuckled.

With reluctance and embarrassment, you agreed but, just as Sarah placed the stained sheets into the basin, she noticed a familiar scent. Tommy’s aftershave.

‘You know Y/N, you might want to see a doctor’ she said.

‘Why is that?’ you asked.

‘You said that it’s the time of the month for you. You had your menses ten days ago. That’s not normal don’t you think? Unless there is something else you have to hide Y/N?’ Sarah said sharply.

[wri0thesley]

hi! please do not talk to me! i am just as disappointed in myself as you are!

arrangement - naoya x fem!reader (3.7k)

warnings: naoya is just an asshole lmao, misogyny, arranged marriage mentions, degradation, humiliation, spitting, unhealthy ‘relationship’. afab reader, fem pronouns

despite your clan elders’ best intentions, you are clearly not a good match for someone as well placed in the world as naoya. still. that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun with you. 

You should have known that it was a fruitless endeavour.

No matter how nicely your hair might be set and your clothes might be chosen, how intricately and carefully your makeup applied – how pretty your manners might be . . . This was never going to go anywhere. Oh, your elders might have thought this was a good idea, and sure it would be – if it were possible. If your clan wasn’t hanging on by the skin of its teeth already. If you’d been blessed – if that was the right way to put it – with more cursed energy than you had been.

But you were not. It had been clear to you the moment you had been – cordially, politely – introduced to him. You hadn’t looked him in the eye – you’d been briefed on what he was like enough to know that – but you’d still sensed the flickering of his gaze over your form. You’d still seen the curve of his mouth into a cruel sneer.

“What a pity,” he’d said, tone not belying an ounce of the pity he mentioned. “I’m far too busy for acts of charity.”

You should have left it at that. You should have accepted it was not to be and went back to your own clan with your tail between your legs, just another failure – or perhaps, you should have looked up into his eyes and spat at him and insisted you were worth more than that. If you had been braver, if you had talked back--

But you do not. Inside, you are meek and quiet. You are cowed by what you know is the power that is at his fingertips, not just physically but also in the sheer luck of having been born as he was born. You duck your head. You feel your cheeks warm. Something about the sneer on his face, the mocking tone . . . sends a curl of heat right to the centre of your belly that you desperately try to ignore.

Tripping over your words, you apologise to him.

For wasting his time.

And it’s that which sets these particular events in motion.

Naoya sees how easily you bend under just his words and the weight of his gaze on you – and though, of course, you are not fit to be his wife the way that your clan elders clearly wanted you to be . . . he likes the idea of your eyes, downturned on the floor. He likes the idea of you on your knees before him. He likes the idea of being able to throw you around, and you, deferential as you take it.

No, even though you would walk three steps behind him and be behest to his whims, you lack the impressive lineage and the splendour of a great union that Naoya is looking for in a wife. But that does not mean, he thinks, as he watches you leave, his eyes following the suggestive curve of your body beneath the layers of fabric, that he cannot have a little fun with you first.

You come to his rooms without an ounce of hesitation. You must know, surely – after the way he treated you at your introduction – that he has no pure intentions. Certainly, the servants milling about his estate know as you’re shown to where he wants you.

Good. Your eager acquiescence just cements the fact to him that he has made the right decision; you will be weak-willed and desperate to please, and though he has no intentions of honour when it comes to what he’s going to do to you, he knows you will do it anyway.

“You came,” he says to you, as you stand across the room, where he’s lounging, entirely at ease, against the pillows on his bed. Your entire body fizzes. You know you should not be here.

(There is something about him that your body cannot deny.)

“I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a whore.” You flinch at the word, though that strange curl of heat returns to your middle. You fight it off as best you can. He sees how you swallow, the way you respond to the name – and he is smirking again, rising from the pillows, walking over to you with all of the grace of a predator. His fingertips reach out, tracing the line of your chin (your skin is pleasingly soft beneath them). “That’s what you are, right? Your clan elders sent you here to see if that’s what you’d be for me.”

He tips up your face. It’s the first time that your eyes have been anywhere near his, and he’s delighted to see the flair of panic and confusion in your gaze. Cute.

“That’s not—” You say, your voice very dry. You struggle with the words, knowing despite yourself that part of him must be right – if you were not, surely it wouldn’t have been as simple as him summoning you and you going there--

“You can’t honestly think you’d have made me a wife, hmm?” He lowers his head, too close to you – your entire body feels like it’s thrumming with energy, buzzing with unrestrained tension. “You’re pathetic.” The word is practically a purr, and your body responds in kind – Naoya, seeing how your eyes cloud over, how you have to stop yourself biting your lip, is delighted.

“I-I’m sorry,” you say, desperate, miserable. You don’t understand why your thighs feel slick and your legs feel shaky, or why your head seems to have clouded over with thoughts that refuse to take proper shape.

“Aww.” His thumb slides across your lip – and you find yourself opening your mouth without meaning to, letting him slide the tip of his thumb in and press down on your tongue. “That’s right. You’re cuter when you don’t talk.”

You don’t say anything. You’re not sure you could, anyway – not with how dry your throat feels. Naoya clicks his tongue.

“Suck it, then,” he tells you, with the air of an impatient man giving orders to a puppy dog. You suppose that’s what you are, really – because you do close your lips, and you do lathe your tongue across the pad of his thumb. He’s still smirking at you, damnably attractive if only for the air of self-assured cockiness. “You’ll want to get used to having something in your mouth.”

His other hand comes up and pushes the kimono you’re wearing (too formal of a kind, really – but your clan elders had wanted to show deference to the Zenins, and they had hoped that perhaps you would be meeting your future husband, and everybody knew that Naoya would prefer a traditional young bride--) to one side, exposing too much of your collarbone and chest.

“Not bad,” he tells you. “Not good enough for me, of course but . . . you’ll do for this.”

You hate that you know what ‘this’ is. You hate that you have no protest to give as he pulls his thumb out of your mouth and turns his back on you.

“Take them off,” he tells you. “Be quick about it. I don’t have all day. Women can be so slow.”

Your hands are shaking as you go to untie your obi. Your self-preservation instinct is telling you to run. Naoya stops where he is and turns his head, his lips still tilted as he sees you’re doing as he asked. Oh, but you’re fun – he feels like a cat playing with a mouse.

“Hurry. Up.” It’s a snap, all pretence – he’s rather enjoying the shaking and the trembling. He can’t help but look at you hungrily as the fabric pools about your ankles in your clumsy undressing. “Before I change my mind, and send you back out into the estate like that.”

Why are you still doing what he asks? You finish undressing and shiver in the cool air, standing there, waiting for whatever he’s going to tell you to do next.

He reaches the bed and turns, sitting on it. He’s entirely casual about the whole thing, his elbows resting on his knees as he steeples his hands together and just looks at you. You burn under his gaze.

“Yes,” he repeats. “You’ll do. Come here--”

You take a step forward, only to stop as he holds up his hand. He takes the patient tone of a man talking to an animal once more.

“Not like that. Think about it, come on. Your head is above mine. That’s not very respectful of you, is it?”

He swathes the words in velvet, making them sound like a question – but you can hear the steel inside of them. The order. He doesn’t need to tell you twice, before you’re sinking onto your knees with your throat dry. Your thighs press together, slick friction making you shiver as you crawl towards Naoya. He tips his head to one side and smiles coldly as if his smile is a reward.

(He watches the way your ass moves as you crawl. He can hear your laboured breathing in the quiet room. In the low glint of the light, he can see the hint of wetness between your thighs.)

You’re so eager to please, even knowing that Naoya is going to use you and discard you. Just as you should be. You feel lucky he’s giving you the briefest time of day.

“Stop,” he says, and you jump to his command as if it’s law. Perfect. He takes a handful of your hair and drags it, pulling you forward so that your face is close to the stiffness that you probably can’t tell he’s sporting through the loose fit of his hakama. He jerks your face so that it rubs against his thigh through the fabric. “Well?”

The bob of your throat as you swallow. You look up at him with your eyes filled with confusion.

“As much as the position suits you,” he says, tone clipped, “are you so stupid you don’t know what I want you to do?”

Oh. Oh.

You are still on your hands and knees. You go to bring one of your hands towards the ties and are stopped with a ‘tch’ of impatience, Naoya kicking at it and trapping it beneath his foot on the floor, with little care about how you wince. He doesn’t hold back his strength.

“You’re going to touch me with that after it’s been all over the filthy floor?” He asks, arching one thin eyebrow. “I don’t think so. If you’re going to be as gormless as an animal, you may as well act like one. Your cheek.”

Heat floods your cheeks once more as you realise what he wants. By now, the strange feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making you wet has become all encompassing, not at all helped by the friction of your thighs or the way that Naoya is talking down to you. You should not be turned on by it. You should be disgusted by him, glad he doesn’t want you as a wife--

So why do you let out a soft whimper as you lean your cheek forward like a docile animal. It presses against something hot and hard, obvious even through the fabric. You don’t let yourself look at him, embarrassed by how easily you let him tell you what to do – if you were looking, perhaps you’d have seen the brief way his teeth dug into bottom lip, seen the softest exhale of his breath. (It’s better you didn’t. He does not like to show weakness.)

He lets you nuzzle against his cock for a few moments, enjoying the sight of you on your knees, your head bowed – but it is not enough for him. Not when he knows you’ll let him do whatever you want.

The hand still in your hair drags you back unfeelingly, letting go of you on the back swing. You almost overbalance – but you have been well-trained in the art of grace. That would have been something he’d have looked for in a wife, if you had been better placed.

Almost a pity, really.

“I’d ask you to undo it,” he says, as he goes to untie his own complicated knots. “But you’re shaking. Are you that eager to suck my cock? Slut.”

He’s right, you are and you are and you are--

There. There’s no going back for you now, as Naoya lets the hakama drop and then rests back on his hands, unconcerned, as if this kind of thing happens for him every day. Hell, for him, maybe it does – surely you’re not the first poor young woman who has been sent by people more powerful than her to try and please the Zenin clan. For some reason, the thought that you’re not the first, that you’re not special, makes another ricochet of heat twist low between your thighs.

“Well?” He asks, mockingly. “It’s not going to suck itself.”

You’re shaking as you approach it, opening your mouth.

“Not too much teeth, now,” he says lightly. “You don’t want to see me get angry.”

(Maybe you do? But you want to please him just as much, so you open your mouth wider, try and let your lips relax--)

He lets out a sigh as your mouth engulfs the head. He tastes salty and musky – you do not have anything to compare it to, but it’s not exactly unpleasant. You experimentally lick across the head of his cock, where the slit is leaking pre-come – and for that, you win a fluid hiss of pleasure. The idea that you’re pleasing him makes you squeeze your thighs together in search of stimulation and friction, a dull jolt of pleasant warmth spreading through your sex. Oh, you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life.

“More of your tongue,” he says to you, and you do your level best to accommodate – your tongue lapping at the veins of his shaft, travelling along the underside. Your jaw feels stretched wide, and you know you are drooling a little. You shift on your knees without being asked to, taking him further down your throat – you sense a twitch in his cock, the slight relaxing of the muscles in his thighs, and a shiver of pleasure runs through you at the idea that he is enjoying what you’re doing.

Pleasing Naoya suddenly seems the most important thing in the world to you – and certainly it feels the most important thing in the world to that emptiness inside you that you feel sure would be filled perfectly by Naoya’s cock. You take him further and further. You hum low in the back of your throat and Naoya’s fist on the bed flexes – you delight in it.

Every time you do something that makes his body respond in even the smallest of ways, you feel a full body thrill run through you that starts in your cheeks and makes it’s way to the junction between your legs, soaking you, making you vibrate and twitch with need. You have never felt so hungry for anything as you do the idea of Naoya touching you--

The crown of his cock bumps against the back of your throat, making you gurgle wetly – tears springing to your eyes at just how much of him is stuffed in your mouth. It’s this that finally spurs Naoya himself to action, once more returning to grabbing at your hair.

His hips begin to piston, thrusting his cock in and out.

“You’re . . .” He breathes, in between great pumps of his hips. “Almost good at that.”

(It’s the closest he’s come to praise so far and the sound of his voice, thick with hunger and lust, is locked away inside some secret part of your mind – you know you will not be able to touch yourself without his voice, the hitch of his groans, coming back to you in a cadence finer than any music you’ve ever heard).

He uses your mouth like he’d use his own fist, pumping fast and hard, his cock kissing the back of your throat with every glide. His breath begins to get shorter, and as you feel the flesh of the shaft twitch beneath your tongue, pulsating, you ready yourself for the salty rush of his release coating your mouth. You’ll swallow everything he gives you, maybe he will call you a good girl for your troubles--

He doesn’t. The hand wrapped around your hair (so neatly arranged, when you’d arrived at the estate – now, a mass of tangles, nothing more than a handle for Naoya to grab onto) jerks.

You cough at the sudden tug. You know he was close, you felt it – so why had he pulled you off of him? The noise that escapes you is half wounded-animal, half confusion – Naoya is sneering down at you, his hand around the base of his cock.

“Open your mouth,” he tells you – and you obey. You want him to come in your mouth! You want to be good for him, you want to swallow down every drop. “Do you really think you deserve to taste my seed? When you’re so . . . inferior, in every way? So . . . inadequate?”

“Please,” you whimper, through the haze of neediness and the ache in your jaw. “Please, I want to, I’ll be good--”

“You’d take anything I gave you, wouldn’t you? You really are pathetic.” You nod, frantically – if you agree with him, maybe he’ll do something about this all, you’re too far gone to have anything close to rational thought. He laughs at you, a sound like a bark – and then, he’s spitting directly onto your mouth, the mess landing on your tongue. “Swallow it.”

Disgusting, you’re disgusting, why isn’t the way he’s acting doing a thing to dampen your desire? You swallow.

The curl of his lip is unfairly attractive. You think he’ll pull you even closer to him, make you open your mouth again and come directly down your throat until you’re coughing all over the floor – but he doesn’t. He moves his hand, pumping his cock – and then, he’s coming, his shaft twitching in his own grip--

And his come spurting across your face, painting your cheeks. You close one of your eyes to stop it getting in there, but it’s a feeble task – you feel it on your face, dripping down your nose, you know some of it has gotten into your hair. Through the one eye still open, you see Naoya’s smug face.

“Did you really think I’d come in your mouth?” He asks, all cruelty. “You don’t deserve to have my seed inside you. In fact . . . Hmm.” He relaxes, looking at you where you’re a mess on the floor. Your kimono and all the ephemera of what you were wearing lies in a discarded pile across the room where you’d taken them off. “You can put on your clothes, I suppose. But . . . don’t clean yourself up. Not even with your sleeve. You should be proud a nothing like you gets to wear it.”

He flaps his hand at you, clearly dismissing you.

“I—I--”

Your voice sounds cracked and strained and small in the room. Pathetic. Just like you. But more pathetic is the heat that seems to cling to every inch of your skin that you know will not go away until you’re touched.

“You . . . you . . . you what?” He mocks you. Your face, all heat, your big blown out eyes darkened by lust . . . He narrows his eyes and smiles, but it’s a smile that’s utterly mirthless, cold as dawn frost. “I’m not going to lower myself to touching you.”

(You think you were expecting it; but still, your sex clenches around emptiness, practically pulsating as he derides you again. Perhaps you are a glutton for punishment.)

You bow your head. You know, if you stand up, Naoya will say something about your head being above his again – so you stay on your knees, crawling towards the pile of clothes. Naoya is drawn once more to the way the slick is dripping down your thighs, the inviting slit of your sex--

“You’re so wet I can see it from here,” he jeers. “Disgusting. You really are a slut, huh?”

Your fingers fumble with the fine fabrics. If your clan elders knew how you had left your formalwear here, on the floor of his room--

You tie the knots. You cannot do anything about the mess on your face, drying too quickly, sticky and uncomfortable – but part of you wants to wear it like a badge of honour.

You finally let yourself stand up, stopped only by a mocking little sing-song of your name, the mocking inflection of the cute honorific at the end that he shouldn’t be using for you--

You turn to him for the final time, too embarrassed, too wet, too hot and aching to meet his eyes. You concentrate on his mouth instead (you know that mouth will haunt your daydreams, blanket quiet night-times when your hands delve between your legs and you have to bite your lip to stifle your sounds.)

“Perhaps,” he says, with the air of a man bestowing a great honour, “perhaps your clan elders need not know I’ve rejected you yet.” A brief flare of hope in your chest, that he sees and takes a fierce, primal kind of pleasure in snuffing out. “Oh, don’t get me wrong – I’ve no intention of lowering myself to marrying you. But . . .”

That grin, barbaric, cruel, cold, heartless.

“It’s only proper for a man of my stature to have a mistress,” he tells you. The idea should disgust you. Why doesn’t it? You need to find a quiet place to hide in the Zenin estate, where you will not be interrupted – where you can press your fingers inside of yourself and imagine they are his. He takes great pleasure in adding; “And I like a woman who knows her place.”

One more flap of his hand – this time, a final dismissal.

“I’ll see you again,” he says, as you slip out of the door--

It sounds like a threat.

[recurring-polynya]

For the ask meme:

💓 💘 👨‍👩‍👦 🖌 for Soujun, please?

(If this isn't too much)

Headcanons for a character that had a total of two illustrations and a one-sentence description in a databook, sure why not? 😭

💓 -  What are some signs they’ve fallen for someone? How do they show their affection?

I don’t think Soujun is the type of person who falls in love, I think he’s the kind that grows in love. I’m pretty hard on the idea that his marriage was arranged and chosen for the good of the clan, and that was something he accepted from the start.

I’ve always pictured Soujun who was very friendly and cared a great deal for his friends. He was a Kuchiki and no fool, but I think he approached his noble connections with an open mind and looking for opportunities to connect with people (unlike, say Ginrei, who spent most of his life trying to play 4-dimensional chess with people at garden parties). Soujun was well-respected within Squad 6 as a great swordsman, a fair vice-captain, and a compassionate listener and problem-solver. He considered all of the other vice-captains his friends, and often invited them to the manor to socialize, or organized outings. For no other reason, aside from “I decided it”, I think that he and Hachi were besties.

 I have a good friend who often says that they are a little bit in love with all of their friends, and I think Soujun was the same way. The primary way he shows his affection is by paying attention. Despite how busy he is with his noble obligations, he’ll always make time to help out a friend, or to be a listening ear. He actually listens to the things that people say, and thinks deeply about how his friends tick, and what is the best way to treat them so that they feel loved. When he’s with a friend, he gives them 100% of his attention. He’s proactive about solving problems, and has a lot of resources at his disposal for helping people out, but he also has a good sense of when to step back and just be there. 

Aside:

I honestly cannot answer romantic relationship questions in the generic-- those Character x Reader things are absolutely incomprehensible to me because a relationship is a heart built between two people. 

Up until now, I have actively resisted trying to think about Byakuya’s mother, who doesn’t even have the benefit of a name or a single sentence blurb (I *think* it’s official that she died when he was a baby, possibly in chidlbirth, but I’m not even sure about that), but you people have worn me down, so I made up a mom for B while I was in the shower, so I could answer the other half of this question and the next one.

Based on fanfic I have written in the past, I felt like I had already established that B inherited his artsy side and appreciation for beauty from his father and maternal grandmother, and his stubbornness from his grandfather, so I decided I liked the idea of him inherited his more analytical side (and possibly also the autism) from his mom.

I said earlier that I think Soujun’s marriage was arranged, and I think his own mother, Sonoyo, did most of the legwork in picking out a wife for him. Sonoyo wanted someone who would complement Soujun and make a strong partner for him in running the clan. Chihaya (千羽矢, thousand, wing, arrow) was the daughter from another high ranking family (don’t ask me which one, be happy she got a first name), who was both elegant and refined and exceptionally brilliant. She was skilled in the running of a large household and insightful in the sphere of inter-family politics. She had attended Seireitei University where she had particularly thrived in the topics of military strategy and history, and theoretical mathematics. She was regarded by many as a calculating and cunning woman, which, to be honest, makes for an excellent Kuchiki matriarch. The thing is, though, she wasn’t actually, it’s just that she was very socially awkward, and approaching the noble social scene armed for battle is all she knew how to do (even if it was surprisingly effective). Sonoyo recognized this, and encouraged Soujun to be his usual friendly and welcoming self in their early meetings, and he charmed her with his sweetness and the fact that he wanted to dig a little deeper and get to know her as a person instead of just for her skills as a potential Lady Kuchiki.

Chihaya had always been told she was a prickly and "difficult” person, which is how she thought of herself, and one of the primary ways that Soujun showed his affection to her was by simply refusing to believe this. He noticed that she got irritated by too much ambient noises, and would take the initiative to suggest they leave a party, or ask a servant to close the outside shutters himself, rather than to put the onus on her. He didn’t take it personally when she would dive deep into something interesting she was researching and not want to be disturbed for hours-- he would just slide in very quietly to personally deliver a snack and a glass of water, check that she was okay, give her a kiss on the forehead, and slide out again. He made sure she got a chance to meet all of his friends that he thought she would like the most in one-on-one meetings, because he knew that was a more comfortable conversational setting for her. He was a very good husband, imo. 

💘 -  What do they find attractive about their partner(s)?

First, let’s be abundantly clear: Soujun was absolutely a wifeguy. He thought his wife was the most brilliant person he’d ever met, and would tell anyone who would listen. Soujun was very good at reading people, but he would sometimes get caught up in personalities. Chihaya was much better at seeing straight through a charming smile, and tying together a person’s behavior with their potential motivations, and discerning subtle intrigues in the making. Soujun loved doing postmortems with her on various social gatherings, trying to figure out what people were up to and predicting what they might do next. 

Chihaya a very dry and offbeat sense of humor (hmmm...where have I heard that before?), but Soujun thought she was hilarious. She had previously often relied on a certain degree of cuttingness in her quips, because those landed best with other nobles, but Soujun really liked her ability to associate unexpected things, and her sense of the absurd. “I just love the way your mind works!” is a thing he would often say, and mean it wholeheartedly.

Finally, despite her cool exterior, deep down, Chihaya was actually a very loving person who had a lot of anxiety about showing her true self to the world. Soujun loved the fact that she was willing to be vulnerable with him. He thought she was such a wonderful and precious person, and felt like it was such a gift to be let into her shell. 

 👨‍👩‍👦 -  What’s their relationship with their parents like?

Oh, good, one I’ve actually thought about!

I think Soujun had an absolutely wonderful relationship with his mother. They were two of a kind, and both had the kind of personalities that favored flexibility, compromise, and making sure everyone was happy. They both valued appreciation of beauty and the small joys of life.

Soujun actually got along with his father decently well, all things considered. I think the nature of Soujun’s health problems was that he had a severe illness as a child that nearly killed him. He lived, but was a frail child. As an adult, he had occasional bouts of poor health, and winters were particularly rough on him. Ginrei, who was deeply affected by nearly losing his firstborn, and was not nearly as demanding of him as he otherwise would have been. Later on, he would often question whether he was wrong in this-- if he had driven Soujun to excellence, maybe the young man would have become stronger, maybe he would have overcome his health problems. For his part, Soujun wanted very badly to be a credit to his family. He applied himself to his books and to his swordwork. He was an obedient and filial son, trying to make up what he lacked in physical strength with loyalty. In other words, a lot of the reason they had a good relationship was because it was conducted nearly wholly on Ginrei’s terms.

Things changed a lot with Byakuya’s arrival, or more specifically at the point in Byakuya’s childhood when his potential became clear. Ginrei became focused on Byakuya as the hope of the clan’s future. On one hand, Soujun also wanted great things for Byakuya and for the Kuchiki generally, but he was also determined that Byakuya know he was loved unconditionally, whether he ever made bankai or not. Ginrei found this to be unnecessary coddling, but it was the one thing that Soujun was willing to stand up to his father about. Sonoyo also passed away around this time, which did the situation absolutely no good whatsoever.

🖌 -  Do they have any hobbies?

As I said earlier, I think Soujun was a social butterfly, and spending time with his friends was one of his favorite pastimes. 

He was also a great music lover. He owned a number of musical instruments which he would occasionally play, poorly, mostly notably a flute. (Chihaya played the biwa at a near professional level and he was strictly forbidden from trying to accompany her, although she was otherwise very tolerant of his musical attempts) He loved to go to the orchestra and had numerous musician friends.

Someone where on the intersection between work and hobbies, I think Soujun was an exceptional kidou user, and probably would have gone into the Kidou Corps if he wasn’t the Kuchiki Heir. He had a great fascination with the underlying mechanics of kidou at an academic level, which is how he ended up making friends with Hachi, and was the basis of a lot of their conversations.  

(original ask meme)

[jishyucks]

The L Word ‣ hjs

‣ genre: angst with a fluffy ending, arranged marriage, sort of modern royalty (rich kid!au), female reader

‣ wc: 2.1k

‣ summary: “Tell me, Han. Has she ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”; in which Jisung's afraid that Y/N's going to leave him in rising of rumors but learns he shouldn't judge a situation from the words of others

‣ warnings?: The Hwang 'sibs' are mean in this (just a bit), lowkey rushed, jisung runs off because of overthinking

Looking at the ballroom’s appearance, Jisung feels as though he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. Like some puzzle piece placed in the wrong box. The people attending the party lived lavish lifestyles, knowing the difference between the different forks placed at the tables. Etiquette was more important to them than the basics a middle-class person would even care about.

Though Jisung had good ideas of such subjects, it wasn't forced onto him like those around him. The only reason why he was able to attend the party was because of a marriage arrangement your father and his father had made as some kind of sick ‘contract’ regarding business. Though he wasn’t complaining, feelings for you developed through the years of knowing you since childhood, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about a handful of things.

For one, you guys were engaged through the arrangement. It’s been three years since the announcement, and even if Jisung believed you were fine with it, even if you ensured to Jisung that you were happy with the engagement, intrusive thoughts started keeping him up at night.

He knew you. You hated speaking out your feelings, whether it led to consequences or not. What if you actually weren’t fine with it? What if you were somehow threatened by your father and the contract to actually speak out about the engagement? He didn’t want you to feel forced to marry him.

Then there was his family’s reputation. His family was deemed drastically poorer than yours by the other associated families and businesses. He was afraid of tainting your family’s reputation or seeming like one of those leeches found at the bottom of murky ponds. Though it was an arranged marriage, Jisung had genuine feelings for you. It was his father that was in it for the money and Jisung was nothing like his father.

“Hey, scrounger!” Jisung turned to find Hyunjin and his sister Yeji approaching him from the opposite corner of the room. They both were dressed in clothes that were probably a lot more expensive than his own, his clothes being hand-me-downs from his father.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Yeji smirked, “You don’t even have business here.” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, eyeing down the boy.

Jisung didn’t cower under their gaze, instead of straightening his back, “I’m here because I was invited. My father was invited as well.” Don’t show fear, he told himself, That’s what they want.

“Ahh~,” Hyunjin chuckled, “Good way to disguise 'because of Y/N.' Tell me, Han. Has Y/N ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”

Yeji butted in, laughing, “I think love is too strong of a word… how ‘bout like? Has she ever told you that she liked you? Cause rumor has it she’s planning on breaking your engagement.”

Jisung gulped, “S-she has… and gossip is bullshit.” He lied. When the arrangement was created, there was some kind of unspoken assumption that you both liked each other. As a result of this, no confessions were made from you both. Sure it was stupid, but in Jisung’s eyes, actions spoke louder than words, and just by how he treated you and you treated him, you both cared very much for each other. Of course, other people never paid attention to actions and relied on direct statements.

“We don’t gossip, Han,” Hyunjin scoffs, “Who would pass up the opportunity to marry Bang Chan when he’s the son of the top businessman in all of Korea?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung’s heart skipped a beat, eyed widening slightly at the mention of Bang Chan’s name.

“His father apparently wanted to create a deal with her father that was a lot better than his deal with yours,” Hyunjin explained, “Isn’t your engagement part of that poorer deal?”

Jisung chose not to reply, biting his tongue. Instead, he shoots Hyunjin a narrowed glare, not up for defending himself or arguing. With the lack of response from their target, the siblings simply rolled their eyes and walked away, taking a seat at their designated table.

When the attention was diverted away from him, Jisung couldn’t help but let his shoulders fall. He feels his heart beating quicker than at rest, thoughts running through his mind like crazy. You wouldn’t leave him just like that right? You wouldn’t.

Then his mind wanders back to Hyunjin and Yeji’s question. Yes, he did think that actions were undoubtedly stronger than words, but now that a spotlight was shone on the hidden yet obvious fact that you both hadn’t said anything about each others’ feelings, he couldn’t help but believe that you could possibly be leaving him. But then again, he has never said anything to you and his feelings existed.

He felt the sudden urge to look for you, who had been busy accompanying your father with the guests. Maybe he will actually confess how he truly felt, just in case you were actually thinking about breaking the engagement. Maybe he could save it somehow, just in case your father was willing to make the deal with Mr. Bang.

Chewing the bottom of his lip, he scanned the room, looking for the lavender dress you were wearing. But with the clumps of people, his line of sight was constantly stopped abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled politely, making his way through the crowd, “Excuse me.” He ignored the looks some people gave him, still slithering his way between the socializing people. Though his hair was parted in a way that exposed part of his forehead, he felt the need to hide under his bangs, keeping his head low as he did.

The familiar sound of your father’s laugh drove Jisung to stop and look around his area. If he was close, you’d be close. Scanning his surroundings completely, he finally spots your father, with you standing close beside him. He feels a smile rise on his lips as he begins to make his way towards you both, heartbeat racing just as his thoughts were.

Opening his mouth to call out for you, he quickly stops himself when he realizes that you and your father were holding a conversation with Bang Chan and his own father. His feet abruptly stop, allowing him to overhear the exchange of banter.

“Well, it was a pleasure having this conversation with you,” Mr. Bang chuckled, “I will see you on Monday for the papers?” He held a hand out for a handshake, a smile filled with pride appearing on his lips.

Your father nodded, “Likewise. I’m looking forward to it.” He completes the handshake, which then queues for Chan to lean in for a hug.

Shit, Jisung gulps, feeling his heart drop to his stomach, What the hell just happened?

You take a step forward and hug Chan back for a brief second before pulling back, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here, Chan.”

Chan’s dimples appeared as he smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Jisung was frozen on the spot, unsure whether or not he should say anything. The notes that he had mentally jotted down in his head were suddenly ripped into pieces and he was practically speechless.

Obliviously, you turn to follow your father, who was already ready to move on to another conversation. Mid-turn, the boy dressed in a striped, navy suit had caught your attention, giving him a double-take, “Oh! Jisung!” The corners of your mouth rise higher, eyes lighting up at the sight of the familiar boy. A wave of comfort washed over you. It was refreshing to see him after interacting with so many strangers and acquaintances.

When you go to approach him, Jisung panics and begins to back into the people behind him. It was then you noticed the look of distraught on his face, causing you to speed up. At this, he turns and runs, causing commotion around him as dodges those who got in his way.

“Jisung!” You called out, turning the heads of those people around you. The music had drowned your voice out from those further away from you, “Jisung!?” You begin making your way through the crowd of people, going as fast as you could in heels so that you wouldn’t lose Jisung. A million assumptions were running through your head, worry lining each and every one of them.

Swinging the door open, Jisung finds himself stumbling out into the empty corridor of the hotel. With the choice of left and right, Jisung stops and impulsively runs in one direction, not minding where he would end up if kept running.

So you were going to break the engagement… without warning? How were you going to break the news to him? How was he supposed to react once you told him about it all? Happy? Sad? Excited?

You finally reached the door of the ballroom, slipping out rather roughly into the corridor. Your head whips left and right, seeing Jisung’s trailing feet to the right of the hallway, turning the corner. You let out a heavy breath before kicking off your heels, booking it in that direction.

Your mind wanders to why Jisung was running. What did he hear? Was he okay? Could it be what other people were saying again? But Jisung was never usually one to let words get to him.

Jisung lets himself rest once he gets to a secluded room. Judging by its content, he realized that he managed to slip into the coatroom, but he didn’t care. He needed time alone to think. He just needed to process this entire situation.

“Jisung?” He hears you call out. Jisung sinks down at the corner of the room, resting his head against the wall. He stays quiet, resting his forehead against his knees.

The door to the coat room opens, revealing your disheveled figure, “Jisung…” You pause and try to catch your breath, “There… there you are.”

Jisung doesn’t lift his head, afraid that if he did face you, he would burst into tears. He could sense you approaching him, though, settling down beside him. He could feel your dress up against him. Soon he feels your hand take his, holding it tightly.

“What’s wrong?”

When Jisung doesn’t answer, you don’t say anything to push out an explanation. You let the question simmer, resting your head against his shoulder.

At this point, Jisung’s mind was projecting none of his thoughts but static. He didn’t know where to start and what to bring up. How was he supposed to confront you about the engagement?

“I’m happy for you two,” Jisung blurted out quietly, avoiding eye contact, “I really am.” Your ears perked up, confused at what Jisung was going on about.

“I think people will like you both together more than us,” Jisung continued, “Just know that I lo–“

You interrupt him, turning to completely face him, “Jisung, what are you talking about?” You turned your body towards him, completely facing the cowered boy. Though your body language was practically begging for eye contact, Jisung still avoided it, playing with his rings to keep him from losing control over his emotions.

Building up his confidence, Jisung let himself look at you before whispering, “Y/N?” He sniffled quietly.

“Yeah, Sung?”

Jisung gulped and asked, “Do you like me?”

You’re taken aback by the question, not expecting it out of all the questions Jisung could have asked. Is this why he was crying?

“Of course I do, Jisung, what makes you thin–“

“I mean genuinely like me. Do you have feelings for me?” Words were spewing out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying. He could feel his emotions taking control of himself, which often is never a good thing.

“Jisung, I love you, okay? Why do you think otherwise?” The beat of your heart sped up with worry. Your eyebrows knitted together in concern as Jisung’s lips quivered slightly.

“The Hwang's told me you were planning on breaking our engagement because Bang Chan’s father offered a better deal than my father,” he explained quietly. He felt as though that if he spoke any louder, he would break out into tears, “I told them I didn’t believe them… t-then they asked me if you’ve ever told me if you did have feelings for me. I just didn’t know what to think when… when I saw your father accept Mr. Bang’s deal. I was afraid you were actually going to leave me.”

You gently slapped his shoulder in shock, “Han Jisung, are you serious?” Jisung responded wordlessly, though a puzzled look replaced his previous emotion.

“My father approached me beforehand about it. He wanted to break our engagement because of the deal, telling me that it was no longer necessary,” you say, “But I told him I wanted to marry you because I love you, Sung. And if he did threaten to forcibly break our engagement, I would’ve fought for us.”

Jisung wanted to laugh at himself at how much he had overreacted. Overthinking was a bitch and this situation was real-life proof, “Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sung?”

“I would fight for us too.”

[azucanela]

Hi! i’d like to request a Zuko x Reader oneshot please and it takes place a few years after he’s crowned as the Fire Lord: Zuko is entering suitable age for marriage and yet he has no one that he likes enough to take as his queen, what if Uncle Iroh hired the reader whom is a famous matchmaker that usually arranges the courting & marriage between nobles, but instead of all these ladies that she threw at him he ended up falling for her instead but he’s just so awkward and inexperienced Thank u

INAMORATA | ZUKO X READER

SUMMARY: after a few years of being Fire Lord, Zuko still hasn’t found a companion. so naturally, when Iroh comes upon a matchmaker, he does what he does best and helps Zuko out by hiring her to help him find someone. and inadvertently... iroh ends up playing matchmaker himself. 

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

WARNINGS: mentions of death, death threats, kissing, pining, very mild innuendos, blood, injuries, crying

A/N: this is literally art omg i feel kinda honored to be seeing this ngl and i ended up researching matchmaking and they’re basically therapists that help you find love?? kinda. the profile thing is something that some matchmakers do and idk i have fun analyzing zuko so

in·am·o·ra·ta/iˌnaməˈrädə/

noun

a woman with whom one is in love or has intimate relations.

ATTEMPT ZERO

After years of being the Fire Lord, Zuko had come to realize the job was pretty basic if you thought about it long enough. There were just a few major things to deal with. First, there’s the internal relations, like the civil wars and uprising he deal with at the start of his reign because people disliked his ways. Then there’s the external relations, Zuko worked alongside Aang to repair those, helping the Southern Water Tribe rebuild itself from the ground up, and hosting meetings between the nations, friendly and work related. Those are the more diplomatic aspects of the job, and sadly, even as a ruler who sought to end a war, there was still violence in the world. 

When Aang and the rest of Team Avatar ended the One Hundred Year War, that only exposed a variety of other problems within the world, problems that the team seeked to end. There were people out there who disliked this line of thinking, and similarly wanted it to end, but ending the lives of Team Avatar.

Zuko was used to the death threats, and the assassination attempts. He’d had a security detail in place to ensure he lived to rule his nation, this was especially necessary since he lacked an heir and the only other people eligible for the throne were an old man who ran a tea shop and a psychopathic teenage girl in a mental institution. This is where the social aspect of the job came in, the part that Zuko had never been good at. The Galas and the girls who threw themselves at him, the nobility of all nations that approached him offering their children’s hand in marriage. Zuko was an enigma, a young and powerful bachelor, and now all the nobles with children were lining up for a minute alone with him to try and sell their own kids.

It disgusted him. The way they treated their children like cattle reminded Zuko of his own father, how willing he was to get rid of Zuko since he had a replacement on standby. Though, Zuko sincerely doubted he ever would’ve gotten the throne if Ozai had a choice, even if he hadn’t been banished. 

Alas, even Zuko could recognize the urgency of it, the death threats weren’t letting up, and the assassination attempts were only getting more and more elaborate, leaving Zuko wondering when they’d no longer be attempts. He needed and heir, or at least a wife who could rule alongside him and take over entirely in the event of his death.

The problem was, he didn’t want this.

He was in a unique position, where the person he married would have an immense effect on society, on politics. If it was an Earth Kingdom girl, then maybe the years of violence against their people could be mended sooner, and they could begin working together to combat a variety of issues. If he ends up with a Fire Nation girl, it could be viewed as strengthening the traditional ideals of Fire Nation independence and sovereignty because the Fire Nation is “supreme.”

Dating was political now and he hated it. It wasn’t like Zuko wanted to be alone, it’s just that now everything mattered far more than it used to. Of course, even as a prince it had been the same, but now that he was the Fire Lord, things seemed to be ten times worse. Perhaps it was excessive but Zuko couldn’t help but feel paranoid whenever a new person entered his life, he couldn’t help but assume that they were just using him for some other agenda.

Of course, his friends had tried to assure him this wasn’t always the case, and they’d even made attempts to set him up with girls. All of which had failed. Zuko knew he wasn’t an easy person, much less an easy person to date. As Fire Lord, a lot of his time was taken up by meetings, and diplomatic missions, and not-so-diplomatic missions alongside Team Avatar. That and he was rather awkward when it came down to most social interactions, though he’d improved over time, especially as the ruler of a nation, his speeches were elegant and so was the way he negotiated with other kingdoms. 

And yet he struggled to talk to strangers.

Iroh seemed to be tired of this as well, he’d sent Zuko several letters in regards to his lack of romance, insisting that he was a “handsome young man” that had “lots of potential” and he was “wasting” his prime with so much work. Zuko didn’t consider managing a country as a waste, though he understood where Iroh was coming from, Zuko probably should’ve been spending time with friends, going to clubs. Not saving the world.

Regardless, there wasn’t much he could do about, he didn’t have time for dating, and Zuko wasn’t willing to compromise his morals and beliefs just for an heir in the event that he got brutally murdered. He refused to raise a child just for that purpose. He learnt the hard way that you should only have kids if you intend to cherish them. And the idea of marrying someone just to strengthen his nation felt wrong, though he could see the benefits.

God, he hated being Fire Lord sometimes.

On the other hand, Y/N L/N liked her job. Amongst the nobility of the Earth Kingdom, she was a rather famous woman, Y/N had brought together some of the most powerful couples in the country. A lot of people owed her favors, and the money that came with the job was more than satisfactory. If Y/N had to guess, she was one of the richest people in the kingdom, considering how much people were willing to pay to fine “the one.” Her business had been rather successful since she’d gotten renowned in the inner ring of the city, and now, Y/N was considering expansion, to the Fire Nation. The borders had long since reopened, when the new Fire Lord came into power.

A whole new set of nobles for her to profit from. 

She’d decided to head to a high end tea shop in celebration of her choice to expand her business. Y/N had heard it was only for the best, since the tea shop served the best. One of her clients had insisted that someone of her esteem try the tea there, given that she was the best in her own profession.

So, here she was. It was a nice place, she wouldn’t deny, and Y/N had heard of the shop before. The Jasmine Dragon, run by some old guy who’d appeared in Ba Sing Se just before the war ended with some major talent when it came to brewing tea. The interior was fancy, but not excessive, several people were already seated within. Y/N even recognized one of the couples there, who waved at her enthusiastically, “hello! Lady L/N, how lovely to see you!” One of them called out.

Y/N smiled at them, “how are you two?”

The other beamed at her as she responded, “oh we’re just lovely! Preparing our wedding invitations and one of them has your name on it.” This wasn’t abnormal, most of the couples she’d brought together attributed their love to her. In actuality, Y/N found that if you found two people with compatible personalities, then they’d work things out on their own. All she did was introduce them. 

“I’m excited!” Y/N assured, moving past their table, “now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to try this famous tea. But, I’m looking forward to the invite.” 

The pair nodded, before returning their attention the friends seated across from them, and Y/N made her way to the front of the shop, bag of coins in hand. An older man stood behind the counter, a smile on his face as he brought his attention to her, “what can I get you today Miss...”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.” She replied, small smile on her face as she looked at the menu, “what’s your name?” Y/N asked, meeting his eyes to see the flicker of recognition within them before returning her gaze to the menu.

He nods slowly, “I’m Iroh, and you’re a matchmaker, no?” He’d recognized the name, her business had begun gaining traction amongst the nobility of the Earth Kingdom shortly after the war, and she was one of the most sought after matchmakers in the nation. Iroh himself had looked into her business, seeing as his nephew was yet to find love in his chaotic lifetstyle. 

Y/N smiled at him as she nodded, “indeed.” She placed the menu down, “any suggestions?”

“Perhaps, Jasmine tea?” He suggested.

Y/N nodded, “sounds good.” She places extends a hand with coins, dropping them into his palm, “so are you looking for love?” Though she was certainly famous for her skills, Y/N tended to work behind the scenes, and she was surprised to find this man recognized her.

A small laughed escaped him at her words as he shook his head, “no. I believe it is a little too late for that.” He was working on her tea beyond the counter, and Y/N began to wonder how he was steaming the tea pot when she noticed there was no stove beside him.

“Don’t say that! You seem like a fine man that anyone woman would want.” Y/N assured, though she now wondered why exactly this man knew who she was in the first place. It was rare for those outside of nobility to know who she was.

Turning around, his hand pressed to the pot that Y/N was positive had to have been burning his hand in some way, “oh, you’re too kind.” He replies, a small smile on his face as he poured a bit into a cup, “I was looking to help my nephew find love actually.” 

“Really, now?” Firebending, that was the only explanation for the way this man was handling the tea. “I was looking to expand my business to the Fire Nation, perhaps I could help him out.” He didn’t hold himself the way most Earth Kingdom citizens did, and coupled with the possible Firebending, he was likely from the Fire Nation.

Iroh raises a brow at this, “what gave me away?” He stirs the tea a few times, before placing it on the counter for her to take. 

Y/N shrugs, “it’s my job to know people well enough that I can find them a match.” Taking a sip of her tea, she smiles, “so this nephew of yours. He wouldn’t happen to nobility, would he?”

He laughs at this, pouring himself a cup of tea as well as he sighs, “actually, he is nobility. In a way.”

Now Y/N did not expect the nobility Iroh spoke of the be the nobility. As in the Fire Lord, the actual ruler of the entire nation, though this would certainly be great for business. Once the world hears of how Y/N found the Fire Lord, someone who had been notably difficult to woo apparently, a match, her business will be set. 

“Isn’t this exciting, guys?” Y/N exclaimed, looking to her assistants, they were both on the younger side, Marcella and Evelyn. She’d brought them along since this would definitely be a valuable learning experience, and Y/N figured she’d need a lot of help if the Fire Lord was as difficult as they made him out to be. That and Y/N didn’t want to leave them alone in the Earth Kingdom, both of them had been orphaned at a young age. Y/N couldn’t help but relate to them, so when she’d come upon her newfound wealth, brought about by her job as a matchmaker, she’d taken the pair under her wing. 

With a bag thrown over her shoulder, Evelyn simply nodded while Marcella exclaimed, “yes! I’ve always wanted to see the Fire Nation. Do you think we could find a client in one of the Water Tribes next?” 

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the young girl’s excitement, “if this goes well? We’ll be able to find clients anywhere.” She wasn’t wrong, Y/N had never had the opportunity to work with the actual Earth King, the true ruler of the nation. Now she was working with the ruler of a nation she’d never stepped foot in, entirely new customs and traditions to research, a new social structure, new everything.

What a fun challenge.

With a smile on her face, Y/N followed closely behind Iroh, the palace was stunning, she couldn’t deny it. And compared to the crumbling infrastructure of the lower rings of cities like Ba Sing Se, Fire Nation cities were prospering Fire Lord Zuko’s rule. From what she’d heard, things weren’t always this way.

“Y/N and I are going to wait here,” he gestured to the open space before them, dozens of paintings within it, “these two will take you to your rooms.” He explained to the pair of young girls, nodding to the servants beside them, who began to guide the young girls away.

Y/N’s eyes found their way to the paintings, the newest one being of the current Fire Lord, Zuko himself. She wondered how accurate the painting was, and seeing as she would be meeting him soon, Y/N figured she’d find out as she sighed, turning to Iroh, “so how does the original heir to the throne become the owner of an infamous tea shop?” 

Iroh smiles to himself at her words, “age brings wisdom. And tea is a nice substitute for alcohol.” He jokes, though Y/N can see the pain in his eyes, along with admiration as he stares at Zuko’s portrait alongside her.

“Uncle!” A voice exclaimed, joy clear in his voice as he called out. Y/N watched as Iroh spun around, a broad smile on his face as he moved forwards to embrace the person.

He looked better in person, Y/N quickly decided, though the portrait did its job just as well. She wouldn’t deny he was attractive, but she already knew looks weren’t the issue. Iroh had informed her of the situation, Zuko’s constant rejection of any and every single person that approached him, and the stress he experienced because of the politics of it all.

“Nephew, it is good to see you,” Iroh said, releasing him from the hug, “how are you?” Initially he seemed fairly comfortable at the sight of just his Uncle, but as the Fire Lord’s body seemed to stiffen, Y/N realized she’d been spotted.

So, he wasn’t comfortable with strangers, “I’m alright Uncle... who is this?” He asked. There was an edge to his voice as he spoke, sizing Y/N up, not in the way you did for someone you were attracted to, but for an enemy.

Uncomfortable with new people, clear trust issues, and his mind was always alert. She’d have to write these things down and take them into consideration prior to finding him a potential partner. Though it was starting to look like he was completely unaware of her purpose there as she extended her hand out to him, “Y/N L/N. Professional matchmaker.” She explained with a bright smile, though, based off his personality, that would likely ward him off more.

He was polite though, shaking her hand despite his clear suspicions of her, “Zuko.” Y/N couldn’t help but raise a brow at this, he hadn’t mentioned his title in his introduction. Zuko turned to his Uncle, brows furrowing as he said, “you hired a professional matchmaker?”

With a shrug Iroh responded, “we met by chance! So, it must be destiny.”

Zuko gives him a tight lipped smile, nodding slowly before returning his attention to Y/N who stood away from the pair, examining the decor of the palace. It was minimalistic, truly basic if she was honest, despite the clear amount of riches they possessed, it lacked evidence of them. Bringing her eyes back to him, he spoke, “you don’t need to be here. You can receive your pay, but I personally see no purpose for a matchmaker.”

Iroh frowned at his words, “Zuko, you need to give it a chance! Unlike all those ladies who keep throwing themselves at you. Besides, she seems rather good at her job.” His gaze was on his nephew as he sighed, giving Y/N an apologetic look that she simply waved off.

“Oh, it’s fine. It just won’t be for long.” Zuko raised a brow at her words, and Y/N watched his feet shifted, “no need to prepare for a fight, your majesty.” She hummed, rolling her neck, in the corner of her eye she could see shock flash in his own. “You see, as a matchmaker I do several things, including developing a little... profile of my clients. Now we just met but I can already tell you a variety of things about you that’s making your love life rather trivial.” Even before she had to develop the profiles professionally, in the lower rings of Ba Sing Se, being capable of reading others was a necessary skill.

Zuko’s eyes narrowed at her, “and what have you determined, in the very short time we’ve known each other.”

A small laugh escaped her as she extended her arms and cracked her knuckles, “well. You have major trust issues, which is why you are desperately trying to keep me at arms length. That’s one reason why you have yet to find someone.” Turning her attention to the decor of the large room, Y/N closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Given the lack of interior design, I would say you’re struggling with social aspects of your job, and you need a partner. One that I can help you find.” 

“See! I told you she’s good at what she does.” Iroh exclaimed, moving forward to clap a hand onto Y/N’s shoulder, much to Zuko’s dismay. 

Y/N gave the older man a small smile before looking back to Zuko, who eyed her wearily, “you keep avoiding the portrait of your father. But you can’t bring yourself to take it down.” She said, and Y/N could practically feel the tension building with each word. “He’s one of the reasons you’ve yet to find a lover-”

“Because he gave me the scar?” 

Y/N paused, brows furrowing at his words, her eyes found his, “I’m sorry, was that a joke?” She asked, and Iroh stared between the two, amused. “You’re actually rather attractive, which is why I know this is a personality thing. Probably tired of the whole fancy court thing they have going on here, which I’m going to need to research...” Y/N pursed her lips, failing to notice the clear shock on Zuko’s face at her comment, and red flushing his cheeks. Waving off her thoughts, she looked back to him, “anyways. My assistants should’ve already cleared out about an hour in your schedule each day for our sessions. I’m going to be asking you some very personal questions. So, be ready!” 

And with that, Y/N waved to the two, bowing rather questionably shortly after, before heading off in the direction she’d seen Marcella and Evelyn go in. Effectively leaving behind a baffled Zuko, and a rather satisfied Iroh, who began to laugh at Zuko’s reaction. “I really like her, quite the character she has.” 

“Yeah, quite the character.” He brought a hand to his temple, “is this really necessary, Uncle?” 

Iroh simply sighed, looking to his nephew, “whether you want to admit it or not, she was right. Ruling a nation is difficult, and ruling it alone is even harder.” A small huff of laughter escaped Iroh, “and she figured that out by your lack of interior design!” 

Exhaling deeply, Zuko reminded himself that this was all part of the job, the job that consumed his entire life. The life that this girl had analyzed in a matter of moments. 

Yeah, he wasn’t looking forward to their meetings.

Though his morals and his disagreement with practically selling your own child were a major factor in his lack of a love life. There was also the simple fact that there was no love in many of the interactions he had with potential suitors, much less genuine interest. They all wanted the power he could give them should they get married.

There was also the fact that Zuko had very little relationship experience, a fact he was trying to ignore. At the end of the day, he couldn’t bring himself to approach anyone, and if he did, he wouldn’t know what to do. Zuko also doubted that people would act... genuine around him, especially if they knew who he was. And all he really wanted was something real, considering his entire day was surrounded by fake smiles that belonged to both him and others.

It seemed that Y/N wasn’t prepared to ignore this piece of information though, since the following morning she’d seated him down and begun to speak of it, “so. You’ve been in two relationships.”

His brows furrowed, “one actually.” He and Mai had broken up about six months into his work as Fire Lord, “Mai.”

Raising a brow at him, she leaned back in the seat. Zuko couldn’t help but wonder how she managed to decorate the place in such a short period of time, as he could’ve sworn there hadn’t been a desk here the previous day. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d toured his own palace. “Well, I’ve heard rumors of you and a Southern Water Tribe member, but I’m not sure which one so I just-”

“Okay! That’s enough.” His cheeks were flushed red as he looked away.

Y/N grinned at him, leaning forwards, “then let’s discuss Mai. You two were pretty on and off, right?” 

Zuko grimaced at the thought, they were. He wouldn’t deny that he’d gone back to her a few times during his time as Fire Lord, “yeah.” 

Y/N began to write into her notebook, “tell me about her.”

“I don’t see why that’s important.” Came his response, looking at her quizzically as he frowned.

Tilting her head at him, Y/N gave Zuko a look, “come on. Let me do my job, I need to know about her to gauge what types of personalities you like while also determining why the two of you broke it off entirely.” She placed the book down, and Zuko could very clearly see the words ‘commitment issues’ underlined. “The goal isn’t just to find you a suitable wife that can help you rule, but someone you can be happy with.”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes on Y/N, her words seem honest. And this was her job, “she was blunt. Honest. Kind of mean at times, but she could be sweet as well. Pretty stoic, expressing her emotions was always... difficult for her.” 

Y/N nodded slowly, scribbling a few more things down, “okay. And what’s your favorite color?” 

“What type of question is that?” Zuko asked, brows furrowing in confusion. 

Crossing her arms, Y/N shrugged, “well. Favorite colors can tell you a lot about a person.” Came her response, “mine is green. Maybe that’s because I associate green with the Earth Kingdom, where I lived. Or maybe it’s because I happen to like nature quite a bit.” Looking around, Zuko could see that she’d already gotten a variety of plants native to the Fire Nation, most were succulents due to the almost year round heat.

At the mention of colors, his mind immediately went back to his first experience with the dragons, when their fire encircled him and Aang. “I.. don’t know how to describe the color- colors?” Zuko’s brows drew together in thought, and Y/N looked at him.

“How would I not understand a color?” The confusion is clear in her voice as she looks at him. Y/N can practically see the nostalgia in his eyes as he looks to the balcony.

Sighing, Zuko shifted in his seat, “these dragons I met ended up making a circle of fire around me and there were just... so many colors. But together it was just,” he paused, searching for the right word, “beautiful.”

Y/N’s mouth gaped open for a moment, “you met dragons?” She exclaimed, nearly throwing her notebook aside. Y/N had never seen such creatures, in fact, the general consensus was that they were still extinct

Zuko seemed to forget about this fact as he straightened himself, eyes meeting hers, “you can’t tell anyone about them!” He exclaimed, “they were hunted to extinction, though I intend to outlaw such things it’s just...” 

She nodded in understanding, “people break laws.” Y/N leaned back into her seat once more, “you owe me a dragon story.” She said, before crossing her legs in her seat and continuing, “favorite food?”

“Well, Aang took me to Avatar Day, and they had these weird Avatar shaped dough things.” He explained, recalling the time he’d gone with Aang and the others. Apparently they used to burn his statue, but now they worship him for some reason.

Y/N brought a hand under her chin, “I have no idea what that is.” She began to scribble something down on her notepad, “but okay.”

“What about you?”

Y/N hummed in response, “what do you mean?” 

Zuko felt his cheeks warm, “this just feels like an interview.”

“Probably because it is an interview.” Y/N said, gesturing for him to elaborate.

Looking away, Zuko frowned, “it’s weird.” Sighing, he spoke once more, “so, what’s your favorite food?” 

Y/N was silent for a moment, staring at Zuko, who was trying his hardest to avoid her gaze. This was a rare occurrence, seeing as most nobles were rather self-centered and liked talking about themselves. She’d never had a client who felt uncomfortable with this portion because it was basically a one-sided conversation. “Jennamite is a good rock candy.”

Zuko turns back to her, a small laugh escaping him, “my friends were nearly killed in Jennamite by the King of Omashu once.” 

“I’m sorry, what?”

ATTEMPT ONE

Y/N wouldn’t deny how odd it was, to be sharing as much information as she was learning about Zuko. She’d never really considered just how personal some of the questions were until she found herself answering them. But, after about a month, she had assembled a pretty good array of potential suitors for Zuko. Along with a few of her own clients, Y/N had found some girls that from the Fire Nation that seemed pretty acceptable.

That’s what she had thought at least.

“What do you mean, you already rejected her?” 

Turns out, Zuko had met half the women, and rejected them. The other half were either from the Earth Kingdom, or yet to attend one of few Galas that Zuko hosted. Seeing as he handed off most of that work to his advisors, it was rare for him to remain at Galas for an extended period of time. 

He grimaced at Y/N’s words nonetheless, his Uncle had informed her of his situation, but clearly not the extent of it. “She was more interested in her guard than me. It was a power grab her parents likely forced her into.” He remembered the girl, she’d been kind to him, but she clearly didn’t want him as much as her parents did.

His words brought about a new level of understanding for Y/N, who nodded slowly, of course it was the parents that Zuko had a problem with. It wasn’t uncommon for nobles to practically throw their children at potential suitors as though they’re a bag of coins. It was something that disgusted her as well, her job found people companions that they liked while these people simply wished for an addition to their power.

Zuko was the ultimate power grab. Y/N could only imagine how many times this had happened to him, random people he’d never met approaching him, offering their child’s hand in marriage. 

Bringing a hand to her temple, Y/N sighed, “but the rest are fine?” 

He nodded slowly, flipping through the pages he had yet to remove, Zuko skimmed what Y/N had written. Taking note of her handwriting, he wondered if she’d written his profile like this. “Yeah...” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, and Zuko sighed, removing a few more pages from the binder she’d presented him with. 

Exhaling deeply, Y/N brought a hand to Zuko’s shoulder, “be honest with me. I’m not gonna yell at you for removing them Zuko, this is for you.”

Sometimes he forgot it was her job to be nice to him. 

“Right.” He mumbled, trying to shake off the feeling he got as she removed her hand. “That’s still... a lot of people. Some of which aren’t even in this nation.” Zuko pointed out, a queasy feeling within him as he looked at her.

Y/N plopped down onto the couch in the common room they’d met in, sprawling her body across it, “you’re right, there is a lot. But,” She twisted her body so that she could see him, wiggling her brows suggestively, “it’s been a while since you hosted a Gala.” 

Zuko’s face dropped at her words, in his years of being Fire Lord, he’d had about three total, and hated every single one. But given how rare the Galas were, people got pretty excited when he threw them. “I hate planning those, it’s a waste of time and-” 

A small smile was on her face as she interrupted him, “and you suck at planning them? I can tell by the decor of your palace.” Glaring at her, Zuko watched as she shifted so that her head hung off the couch upside down, “well. This will be the best Gala yet, you’ll impress all the ladies that you can’t meet in the immediate future in about...” Y/N looked to the watch on her wrist, brows furrowing, “eight months. And I’ll help you plan it, since you desperately need help-”

“Alright, I get it, I’m horrible.” He grumbled, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his seat across from her after placing the binder on the coffee table between them. “Eight months isn’t a lot of time,” traditionally, Gala’s took at least a year’s worth of planning and preparation, especially since Zuko was so busy he barely had the time to assist in the process. Eight months was no where near enough.

Y/N was still frowning at his words, “no self-deprecation.” She ordered, taking Zuko by surprise, before continuing, “regardless. I’ve planned Gala in less time with less resources. It’ll be fine.” Pursing her lips Y/N sighed, “now we need to discuss your inability to talk to people in general due to your immense trust issues and constant battle field mentality.” 

Zuko’s mouth gaped open at her words, “excuse me?”

Bringing her hands to rest on her stomach as she laid upside down, Y/N spoke, “when we first met you looked like you contemplated attacking me. And when you met Marcella and Evelyn, I’ve never seen someone so awkward.” Zuko is silent and looks away, only proving her point as Y/N continued, “so we need to practice your people skills, and flirting for future reference, seeing as your first date is in about a week-”

Almost immediately, Zuko straightened his posture, sitting up and looking to her as though she’d thrown a bucket of ice cold water onto him. “A week?” He winced at the way his voice cracked.

“Yeah, I spoke with one of the girls, not her parents, and asked her to meet with you later in the week.” Y/N explained, “her name is Elara, she’s in there.”

Frowning, Zuko reached for the binder and began to flip through the pages, “how’d you know I wasn’t going to get rid of her page?” Only to find the girl’s page, details on her personality, skills, hobbies and more on them.

A smirk spread across Y/N’s face, “she was one of few I was sure you’d keep.” With a sigh, Zuko looked back to Y/N, who still sat upside down, “now. You need to practice your romance skills, so come on.” She twisted her body, her legs falling to the side of the couch, and then moving onto the floor, Y/N stood. As the blood rushed to her head, a wave of dizziness came over her, and Y/N found herself stumbling slightly.

A hand came to her back and forearm, steadying her, “you need to practice walking.” Zuko laughed slightly, a nervous edge in his voice as he eyed her. 

Y/N brought a hand to her head as she laughed as well, “oh my...” Y/N blinked several times as the wave of dizziness passed, her hand gripping Zuko’s arm as she grounded herself. Looking up to him, she quickly realized how close they were and cleared her throat, releasing his arm.

He followed suit, removing his hands from her, “sorry-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Zuko.” 

The look her gives her almost hurts. Because Y/N can see the shock within his eyes as he nods slowly in response. She wonders what he’s thinking of as he she gives him a tight lipped smile, clapping her hands together as she turns back to him, “practice.” She repeated, mostly for herself.

And maybe offering to be the person he practiced on was her first mistake. 

ATTEMPT FIVE

Y/N had learnt a lot about Zuko in the past four dates he’d been on. One of these things being the fact that Zuko was a wild card when it came to dates, and they seemed to either go very well with the girls contacting Y/N to let her know they wished for a second date, only for Zuko to reject the possibility. Or, they went very bad. And Zuko returned with some sort of drink splattered onto his clothing.

So, Y/N decided that the best course of action was to discover what exactly Zuko wasn’t mentioning, and to follow him with a disguise. Evelyn had suggested it, Iroh supported the idea full-heartedly, though Marcella had believed it would be a huge invasion of privacy, Y/N didn’t really care, seeing as it was her job to be involved in Zuko’s love life. She was getting paid to ensure he found love. 

And she was curious.

That’s how Y/N ended up dressed in some very suspicious Fire Nation clothing alongside her assistants and the apparent Dragon of the West, famous tea shop owner, and member of the royal family. 

What a wonderful assortment of people.

Marcella and Evelyn had separated from Iroh and Y/N, sitting in another booth across from them, it was a feeble attempt to keep them from sticking out. The girl had chosen a rather upscale restaurant, so dressing appropriately while also maintaining a look that prevented Zuko from recognizing them. 

Y/N pulled her hat further down on her face as she looked to Iroh, who was browsing the menu. She wouldn’t be shocked if he entered the kitchen just to make himself a ‘decent’ cup of tea. He’d been rather helpful during the whole process, anything she didn’t find out from Zuko, Y/N had learnt from Iroh. “See anything you like, Iroh?”

He smiled at her, nodding slowly, “I think I’ll just take some tea.” 

Looking to Marcella and Evelyn, Y/N smiles, the two are speaking with one another like they aren’t supposed to be spying on the Fire Lord. But Y/N doesn’t mind, this was more of a recreational activity anyways, and she was glad they were having fun. Since they’d gotten to the Fire Nation two months ago there had been an... adjustment period to put it simply.

Y/N nodded at Iroh’s statement, and her eyes fell back onto Zuko and his newest date, Amaya, she was a simple girl. She’d possessed organizational skills that Zuko lacked, planned dozens of events, had the expressive qualities that Zuko yearned for in a partner. Amaya was one of few that Y/N was sure Zuko would take a liking to. Especially since she also had training in a variety of fighting styles, and was quite the Firebender. She’d been a little skeptical when she first contacted Amaya, the girl seemed hesitant, but she agreed.

And from the looks of it, he had. The pair was laughing along with each other, but Y/N could see the way Zuko stiffened at any physical contact, in general he’d yet to relax. If Y/N was honest, it was basically like any first date, awkward.

Zuko didn’t really know how to feel about Amaya, she was what he should be looking for in a girl, everything he needed if he was honest. She had an interest in the art, something Zuko had never taken to and the main reason his palace looked, ‘dull’ as Y/N had put it. And she was expressive, the main issue he’d had with Mai was her lack of expression. But, for some reason, Zuko just couldn’t see her as anything more than a good friend. There was something... off about her.

“When that Earth Kingdom girl approached me, I was skeptical.” Amaya explained, taking a sip from her glass, “you know how most Earth Kingdom folk are...” She gave him a look as Zuko listened in confusion. “The Fire Nation citizens simply have more class.” Amaya settled for with a shrug.

Oh.

Zuko laughed nervously, “I’m not sure I understand. I find Earth Kingdom citizens pretty pleasant actually, and Y/N, the one you met, she’s actually very resourceful and kind.” His mind went to Toph as well, who had invented an entirely new type of bending. She was an impressive young woman from the Earth Kingdom, and Y/N was as well, she’d started her own business at a young age and turned it into something incredible.

“Really? She didn’t seem too smart when I met her, but who can say no to a meeting with the Fire Lord?” 

Zuko was pretty sure her words were meant to be taken as a joke. But Amaya wasn’t the first person Zuko had encountered with this mindset, she was just more subtle about it. The supremacy of the Fire Nation was still an idea that ran rampant in some people’s minds, though Zuko had dealt with most disputes regarding his peaceful relations with other nations. Many still missed the time when the Fire Nation practically owned the world, where Fire Nation citizens could treat the people who had their homes taken from them however they pleased.

It was a dark time in his nation’s history, nonetheless, several people missed it. This was something rather prevalent amongst Nobles though, they were the ones who lost an immense amount of land when the war had ended. Many of them were bitter about what had happened. 

If Zuko was honest, she’d probably had these ideas drilled into her since birth, and simply hadn’t grown out of them, which was a shame. But as the ruler of a nation, he couldn’t rule beside someone who looked down on others simply because they weren’t from the Fire Nation.

Zuko shook his head, “Y/N built her business from the ground up. And now she’s helping the Fire Lord get dates.” He knows he sounds defensive, as though he’s prepared to fight her, something his Uncle would likely scold him for, but he doesn’t care at the moment.

“All she does is set you up with people.” 

Zuko’s brows furrowed at this comment, and he raised a hand to get the attention of the waiter, “excuse me, could I get the check please?” The young man nodded, heading off to get the check, and Amaya looked at him incredulously. 

Y/N had done far more than set him up with people, she’d helped him begin planning a Gala, she’d tried her best to find a good assortment of people that would fit both Zuko’s needs and the Fire Nation’s, and that list was probably very difficult to narrow down. Zuko had seen the work she put in for formulating profiles of the potential suitors, and throughout all of it she had done nothing but support him. 

“What are you doing?” Amaya asked, shifting in her seat as she stared at Zuko quizzically.

The waiter came over and handed Zuko the check, and Zuko placed a pouch of money on the table, “thanks. Keep the change.” He explained, nodding to the boy, who’s mouth gaped open in surprise as he took the pouch of money, bowing to Zuko repetitively, though Zuko wasn’t paying much attention to him as he spoke to Amaya. “I don’t think this is going to work out, I’m sorry.”

Amaya is still seated in shock as Zuko rises from his table, and Y/N can’t help it when her mouth gapes open at the sight of him simply abandoning his date. She makes eye contact with Iroh, who raises a brow, and they both sit up. She moves to follow Zuko, only to bump into someone. 

“I’m so sorry!” Y/N exclaims, moving down to help them pick up their hat, that had fallen when they collided.

“No, that was my fault entirely!” He responds, shaking his head as they both leaned town to pick it up.

“Aang, come on! He’s leaving.” The woman behind him exclaims.

Y/N’s brows furrow in recognition as she looks up to see a blue arrow tattooed on the man’s head, and her eyes widen in realization. Zuko had described Aang several times during their conversations, he and the rest of his friends came up often. But Y/N did not expect the first time she met the Avatar and his friends to be when they were both following Zuko on his date.

ATTEMPT FOURTEEN

Y/N simply sighs as she opens her door to see Zuko, in the outfit she’d helped him pick out. “What was it this time?” He’d been on thirteen dates thus far, and Y/N was slowly realizing that Zuko was likely one of her most difficult clients. This was purely because he’d yet to get a second date, though there had been offers, Zuko had declined all of them. 

“She was just-” His hands gestured rather broadly, he was practically throwing them into the air, “she was so rude to the waiter.” This had always been a dealbreaker for him, since he’d worked as a waiter in two different tea shops, Zuko had come to understand the importance of treating a waiter with kindness and how difficult the work could be. 

His eyes dart between Y/N and her door, she’s rubbing her eyes due to the exhaustion and Zuko can’t help the guilt that floods him. Nonetheless, she opens the door wider, heading inside her room and signaling for him to close it as she falls back onto her bed. “You were a waiter once, yeah?” He’d told her a fair share about his life in the Earth Kingdom, she’d inquired quite a bit about that part of his life. 

He asked about her life in the Earth Kingdom too, and she’d told him how poor life could be the in the outer rings, something he’d experienced for himself. Zuko listened as she describe living after her parents had died, working for a matchmaker only to discover she was actually good at the job, making a name for herself in the outer rings and then making her way inwards until she was one of the most sought after matchmakers in the kingdom. Y/N spoke of how she’d met Marcella and Evelyn, and how she’d taken them in when she’d discovered they were both orphans, living on the streets as pickpockets.

Zuko wouldn’t help but laugh at this, he could imagine Evelyn as a pickpocket, but Marcella? She was a sweet girl, he couldn’t imagine her in a life of crime. Of course, desperation made people do questionable things. Zuko knew that much from experience. 

“Yeah, I was.” Came his response, taking a seat in the chair by her desk. 

Y/N sat up in her bed, bracing herself with her elbows as she raised a brow at him, “what are you doing?”

Zuko frowned, shifting in the chair, “sitting...?” He moved to get up but Y/N waved him off.

“Just lay with me, idiot.” She allowed her head to fall back onto the bed, patting the spot beside her. Clearly, her suggestion wasn’t bothering her, but Zuko felt his face flush at the possibility.

If he’s honest, he’s not even trying anymore when it comes to dates and women and love. There were three reasons for this, one of which was the fact that he simply wasn’t connecting with any of the women he had met thus far. Sure they were nice, and they probably would be his type has it not been for reason two. The fact that Zuko had realized he had feelings for Y/N, what feelings? He wasn’t sure, but they sure as hell weren’t platonic, if they were he would not be blushing this much. He wouldn’t get that weird feeling in his stomach whenever he spoke to her.

Then there was was reason three, if Zuko succeeded in finding love, then Y/N would leave. It was selfish, but he already knew he wouldn’t find anyone considering he pretty sure he loved someone else already. So now, Zuko was basically procrastinating letting Y/N know that this just wasn’t going to work out, mostly because he didn’t have a plan.

He was debating just firing her, but that likely wouldn’t go over well, and he wanted to see her business succeed. If you get fired by the Fire Lord, that just looks bad. Now Zuko wondered what the best way to go about this was, since there was no point in working for him, even if she was getting paid. He was a waste of time. 

He couldn’t help the smile graced his lips as his own thoughts reminded him of the time she’d scolded him, telling him to quit being self-deprecating. 

Zuko sat up from the chair, making his way over to her bed, Zuko found himself simply plopping down onto it face first, earning a laugh from Y/N.

He rolled over onto his back, turning to look at Y/N, only to find her eyes were already on him, bringing a blush to his cheeks as he mumbled, “what?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why you haven’t gotten a second date yet.” Came her response, propping herself up on her forearm. “You have a nice personality, you’re attractive, I’m sure at least one of the girls caught your eye.” Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair as she began to wonder if she’d incidentally allowed her own feelings to get in the way of her work. Maybe that’s why this was going so badly.

This was a problem. 

Zuko simply shook his head, his face on fire as he listened to her words, though he couldn’t help the hand he brought to the scar on his face. Y/N had pointed out before that he was allowing his Father to control his actions even now that he was imprisoned, and Zuko was beginning to see what she meant. 

Removing his hand from his face, Zuko sighed. Though he didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts as her hand hesitantly came to his face, placing a hand on his cheek and allowing her thumb to brush against the scar. Zuko jumped at the sudden contact, and Y/N moved to withdraw her hand almost instantly, but Zuko’s hand came to hers and held it there. Looking to her, he couldn’t read the look in her eyes as she gazed at him, and suddenly he wished he was as good at reading people as she was. 

“No self-deprecating thoughts.” Y/N mumbled, “bad Zuko.” She removed her hand from his to flick his head, causing his brows to furrow.

He pouted, and Y/N let out a laugh as he spoke, “how come you haven’t found someone?” Zuko looked to her, “you’re beautiful, and smart, and just... perfect.” He didn’t notice when her cheeks warmed, “you’re a literal matchmaker, surely you’ve considered who your perfect person is.” 

Y/N fell onto her back, running her hands over her face as she shook her head, “how have you not gotten a second date?” A sigh escaped her, “I haven’t had time for love before, and I just haven’t found that,” looking to him, she pursed her lips, “perfect person.” Growing up in the lower rings, she didn’t have time for an actual relationship, and her business as a matchmaker grew incredibly quickly. At the end of the day, long term just didn’t work out, Y/N barely had for herself, much less another person.

“I guess we both suck at love.” Zuko said, his tone was serious and Y/N couldn’t help but burst out into laughter as she swatted at his chest.

Too bad they couldn’t suck at love together. 

ATTEMPT SEVENTEEN THROUGH TWENTY EIGHT

Smoothing over her green dress, a sign of her citizenship in the Earth Kingdom, Y/N moved to answer the knock on her bedroom door. Given how long she’d been in the Fire Nation, Y/N wondered if the Earth Kingdom would still feel like home when she returned. The idea of going back felt odd, and though that time likely wasn’t soon unless Zuko met the love of his life tonight, it was inevitable.

And it horrified her. 

Holding the edge of the dress slightly to make it easier to walk, Y/N sighed and opened the door, seeing Zuko. A small smile on her face as she eyed his Fire Nation robes, “you look nice.” She complimented, tilting her head at him as she allowed her eyes to travel over his figure.

Zuko nodded, a blush coming over her cheeks, his mouth gaping open as he looked at Y/N. “You look beautiful.” She did, the dress looked amazing on her, her hair styled just right, and bracelets adorning her wrists.

“Thank you, Fire Lord Zuko.” His nose crinkled at the use of his title, coming from her it felt even weirder, wrong almost. But she continued, “mind helping me out?” She asked, moving back to her desk and taking a necklace in hand. Y/N had been struggling to put it on for the past few minutes, and now she had someone to do it for her.

He nodded, closing the door behind him, he took the necklace from her hand, and when Y/N ensured her hair was out of his way, Zuko brought the necklace around her neck. He secured the clasp, hands lingering as he adjusted it to the center of her neck. Zuko couldn’t help but notice a small scar on her shoulder, hand brushing over it.

Y/N looked over her shoulder and to him, brow raised, “how’d you get this?” He asked, brows drawn together. His hand traced the raised skin gently, Y/n could feel her cheeks warming at his touch, inhaling deeply. 

She grimaced, “a knife fight I almost lost my life to.” Was her explanation. Y/N didn’t like to think back to the days when she’d resorted to several... questionable actions to stay alive. But she pushed those thoughts away as she turned to face him. “You ready?” Y/N asked, they had to get to the Gala soon, considering the fact that Zuko was the host, Y/N was shocked he’d even stopped by her room in the first place.

Zuko was silent, simply nodding as he extended his arm for her to take. And Y/N did, looping her arm around his as she smiled, “you are gonna woo so many Earth Kingdom women tonight!” Y/N exclaimed, more confidence in her voice than Zuko had.

Shame the only Earth Kingdom girl he wanted to ‘woo’ was her.

When they’d arrived at the Gala, descending the stairs together, they were greeted with the claps of the other guests. Zuko would feel the anxiety flood him, but he paid it no mind. Though Y/N could feel the way he stiffened as he ended his speech to the diplomats of all nations, “let this be a peaceful, and joyous night!” 

They all burst out into cheers before the party continued, the music starting once more, and everyone returning to feasting upon the buffet, dancing along the ballroom floor or speaking with one another. All while Y/N led Zuko down the stairs, dragging him by the hand, “come on. Enjoy your own party, meet some girls.” She winked, and Zuko swore his face heated up even more than it already had. 

Y/N wasn’t a fool, she knew that if she’d stuck by his side the entire night, she would serve as a repellant of any potential suitors. So naturally, much to Zuko and Y/N’s dismay, she removed herself from him, playfully shoving him towards a group of Earth Kingdom girls she’d mentioned earlier. Though there were several other clusters in the ballroom.

Zuko simply sighed, giving Y/N a small smile before making his way to the group of girls. If he was honest, he would rather be spending the Gala by her side, but he had to put in some effort. He owed Y/N that much. Besides, this was an entirely new group of girls, maybe he would find someone tonight. 

“Hi there.” Zuko greeted, waving awkwardly at the girls. 

This action earned him a few laughs, and he was unsure if they actually found it funny or felt the need to laugh since he was the Fire Lord. Shortly after they began introducing themselves, speaking like there was no tomorrow. 

If Zuko was honest, the number of women here was overwhelming. So, as he excused himself from the conversation, much to their chagrin, he placed his cup down on the platter of one of many waiters. Making his way outside, Zuko couldn’t help but feel relieved at the fresh air that hit him on the balcony. Though he contemplated heading back inside when he noticed another girl was already there, eyes shut as she faced the sky, she turned to see him, eyes widening a fraction. “I’m sorry, I can go-”

“No!” She exclaimed, cheeks flushing in embarrassment due to her outburst, “no... it’s fine.” She turned back to look at the sky, hand clasped together, fidgeting.

Zuko stepped forward, finding himself situated across from her, leaning against the railing, “so why are you out here?”

A small laugh escaped the girl, and she ran a hand through her hair, “it’s rather stress relieving. You have a lovely view in your palace.” 

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he realized she recognized him, though Zuko nodded along, “what’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking?” It was a stupid question, and Zuko nearly facepalmed as he pursed his lips.

“Aileen.” Came her response, and Zuko realized he recognized her name as well. She was the child of one of the more well known members of Fire Nation nobility, her parents had approached him in the past in hopes of arranging a marriage between the two of them. He had declined almost immediately. And now that Aileen turned to him, he had a feeling he made the right decision, “you’re Zuko, right?” 

He exhaled deeply, nodding, “that’s me.” Sometimes, Zuko wondered what his life would’ve been like if he wasn’t Zuko, perhaps things would’ve been simpler. No, things definitely would’ve been simpler. There would be no diplomatic meetings, no wars, no idiots trying to hurt other people, no more assassination attempts, no more fake smiles and no more Galas. Of course, if he wasn’t Zuko, he never would’ve met Y/N.

“I heard you’re looking for a partner in crime.” Aileen prompted, “why aren’t you in there finding that future love of your life?” 

Shrugging, Zuko looked up at the sky, “I found her. She just doesn’t want me.”

He can feel Aileen stare at him, she’s silent for a moment, and Zuko wonders what she’s thinking. Though he doesn’t need to wait long to find out as she responds, “I understand.” Aileen focuses her gaze on the glass she’d placed on the thick railing of the balcony, “the person I love probably doesn’t love me back. And even if they did, my parents disapprove.”

“Did you ask?” He felt hypocritical, Zuko himself had never spoken with Y/N in regards to his feelings, and he likely never would, but he wanted to know. “If they love you?”

Aileen laughs slightly, shaking her head, “I couldn’t bring myself to. I’m scared.” She replied, looking back to him curiously, “did you?”

“No.” He responded lamely, tapping his fingers against the railing with a sigh.

Aileen laughed at this, “I guess we are both cowards then.” She pursed her lips, “I didn’t ask because I was scared, why didn’t you?”

And then the words come spilling out, “whoever I end up with will greatly impact the whole world, whether I want to acknowledge it or not. And she doesn’t deserve that burden, nobody does.” He laughs bitterly as he continues, “she’s also the person that was hired to help me find love in the first place.” Zuko pauses, looking away from Aileen, “and I guess I’m scared too.”

“Ironic.” Aileen mumbles, bringing her eyes back to the sky, “let’s make a deal, Your Majesty.” 

Zuko cringes at the use of that title, almost asking her to simply refer to him by his name, though he simply responds, “what deal?”

“We both confess. And if it goes horribly wrong, we can get married.” 

Y/N can’t see the shock on Zuko’s face, but she can see how comfortable he feels with this girl, Y/N hadn’t seen her before, but she was just happy Zuko was connecting with someone. Except she also wasn’t, a bitter feeling enveloping her as she turned away, looking for something else to focus her attention on, something that didn’t hurt. 

She turned to see Marcella and Evelyn in the distance, speaking with each other. Y/N supposed if she wouldn’t be finding love tonight, then at least they would. She was no fool, she saw the way they looked at each other, the glances when the other wasn’t looking. Maybe it was dumb, but Y/N found herself feeling jealous as she moved over to the buffet with a sigh. Food solved everything in her experience, after a client had a particularly bad day, food made things better.

“Perhaps some tea?” Iroh stood beside her, a kettle in his hand, he had insisted he serve tea at the Gala, though Zuko had assured him it would be just as easy to find someone else to do the job.

Y/N smiled at him, nodding as she took a cup from the array of them within the buffet, allowing Iroh to pour her some tea. “Thank you, Iroh.” Her voice is quieter than normal, and it’s clear that Iroh can tell something is wrong.

“You know, you deserve to be happy to Y/N.” His words catch her by surprise, though she doesn’t have much time to consider their meaning before flames lighting the room begin to move erratically, causing her brows to furrow.

Something was wrong. 

Iroh nods to her, placing the tea kettle down as his brow furrow and she nods back, Iroh disappearing into the crowd of people. Y/N’s eyes fall back to Marcella and Evelyn, and she quickly moves to their side of the room, ignoring the hush that had fallen over the room, panicked gasps amongst them. Her hands fall onto both girl’s arms as she nods to them, “Y/N, whats going-”

Y/N is already dragging them in the direction of the exit, “get out of here, find the guards. I’m going to find Zuko.” The girls didn’t have much time to argue, as Y/N was already working her way through the panicked crowd, back to the balcony where she’d last seen Zuko. But, people were already pushing against her movements, making it difficult. Raising her head above the crowd in an attempt to see what’s going on, Y/N realizes whats happening. 

Firebenders were trying to force them together, and Y/N couldn’t help but panic as she wondered if Marcella and Evelyn managed to escape and find the guards. 

This was an ambush.

No, this was an assassination attempt. Zuko already knew as he watched the atmosphere of the party begin to shift, that and the person who stood before him in all black, brandishing several weapons. Alongside four others who stood by her side. 

“You know, it wasn’t until I met you that I realized how bad it had gotten.” Aileen stood beside Zuko, eyes meeting his in horror as they exchanged looks. Zuko simply hoped the nod he gave her provided some semblance of comfort as he returned his attention to the person before him. “I mean, defending some lowly Earth Kingdom matchmaker? What type of career even is that?” 

Her voice is almost maniacal, and Zuko can’t help but wince as he feels reminded of his sister. But he recognizes it nonetheless, Amaya. It had been months since he’d seen her, but he could still remember her voice. Her face was covered by a mask, and she wielded a sword, and if Zuko remembered correctly, she had been trained in dozens of fighting styles and was a talented bender herself. Alongside the four other men, Zuko couldn’t help but panic internally as he spoke, “Amaya, why don’t you put the swords down, and we talk about this.”

She laughs in response, ripping the mask that covered her face off and throwing it aside, “people have tried to talk to you about this. Your-” She grappled for the word, a hand yanking at her hair as she gestured to him with a sword, “your radical ideas!” 

Zuko didn’t find having morals radical, but he wasn’t going to say that, not while Aileen’s life was on the line. Zuko suddenly realized why having an heir was important as he shook his head, “Amaya, look. Why don’t you let Aileen here leave, and then you and I can talk.” 

Aileen looks like she’s going to protest, but Amaya glances at her red robes, a sign of her Fire Nation citizenship, and gestures for her to leave. “Get out. My problem isn’t with you.” 

When Aileen doesn’t move, Amaya quickly grows frustrated, calling out to one of the guards she’d brought along that lied inside, “take this fool away.” 

There’s no response, and Zuko can see panic flood Amaya’s face. And looking behind her, he quickly realizes that most of the guards have been subdued, Y/N holding one of them in her arms as she knocks them to the ground. Moving towards the balcony stealthily as Amaya’s hands begin to shake, fire sparking in her palms as she focused her attention onto Zuko. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to our nation.” 

But Zuko wasn’t looking at her as he shook his head, hoping Y/N would understand. There was no way she could overpower Amaya, not with her bending. Y/N didn’t even have a weapon.

Now, Y/N knew for a fact that no matter how talented Zuko was, he wouldn’t put the girl beside him in danger. His priority would be keeping her alive, and given the training Amaya had as a noble, in both Firebending and fighting, she might even be as good as Zuko in a fight.

Meaning she had to be taken out of the fight.

Everything happened pretty fast after that. Zuko was shielding body coming forward to shield Aileens as he extended his freehand to Firebend at the people who’d surrounded them, only for Amaya to move out of the way. The girl was practically screaming bloody murder as she lunged at him, now wielding her sword. 

Zuko didn’t have to figure out what to do next because Y/N moved faster than Amaya did, tackling the girl over the railing and down below as he began to scream. 

THE FINAL ATTEMPT

Zuko’s knee is bouncing rapidly as he sits beside Iroh, who knits a scarf of some sort despite the blistering heat of the Fire Nation. He’s insisted that when Y/N returned to the Earth Kingdom she’d need it, and Zuko didn’t have the heart to disagree. Iroh had started stress-knitting about four hours ago, when Y/N had entered the room they all sat before, anxiously awaiting news of her condition.

Marcella and Evelyn are to Zuko’s left, Marcella’s sobs had quieted down, but Zuko wouldn’t be shocked if he looked over and saw tears silently streaming down her face. The girl hadn’t taken it well. Evelyn remained composed, doing her best to comfort Marcella, but the wait was clearly getting to her as well as she fidgeted with Marcella’s hands.

Seeing as Y/N had fallen from several stories up off the balcony and into the water below, Zuko didn’t really think it was possible to take the news well. But he was trying. 

A pang sounded from inside the room, and Zuko practically shot up onto his feet, moving to knock on the door to discover was was wrong, only for Iroh to grab his wrist, shaking his head. Zuko exhaled deeply, beginning to pace across the hall. He found himself wishing that Katara hadn’t been busy with Water Tribe business, she was an excellent healer. Alas, Katara wasn’t there, and Zuko had to settle for one of the skilled Water Tribe diplomats instead, alongside a few others skilled in medicine. 

As he paced, Zuko could feel Evelyn’s eyes on him, and it became clear she was itching to speak and he sighed, “what’s wrong?” There were dozens of answers to this question, the main one being the fact that Y/N could die today, so he hoped she understood what he meant.

The girl is glaring at him, and Zuko can’t help but feel uneasy. Because maybe she blames him for this as much as he blames himself, and maybe she’s going to tell him off, blame him for everything. Because if Y/N dies, she and Marcella will have no one again. 

Not that Zuko would allow that. He’d grown attached to the girls as well, they were kind, and helpful. They’d help improve the interior decor of the palace, and if he was honest, it looked better than anything he ever could’ve done.

“You better tell her how you feel after this.”

Zuko’s mouth gapes open at the girl’s words, and he swears the breath leaves his longs, and its as though everything hits him then. 

He would never get to tell Y/N how he felt if she died. He’d never get to listen to her try and tell a story just to go off on dozens of tangents, he’d never get to watch as she attempted to cook again, and he’d never get to hold her in his arms once more. There would be no more late night talks, and he wouldn’t hear her laugh, she wouldn’t tease him anymore and they wouldn’t walk through the courtyard feeding turtleducks again.

She’d never know he loved her.

Zuko finds himself nodding to Evelyn’s words, frozen in place as he looks to her and asks, “was I that obvious?” His voice is hoarse, and its probably because he didn’t stop screaming, even when Y/N’s body hit the water. 

Marcella is laughing at his words, blowing her nose into a tissue that Evelyn hands her before she speaks, “painfully obvious.”

“For someone who’s job revolves around love, Y/N is one of the most oblivious people I’ve ever met.” Evelyn grumbles out, rubbing her eyes as she yawns.

It was late, Zuko knew that much, the guests of the party had gone to the infirmary in the palace, being tended to by doctors and any other available healers if injured. Otherwise, they’d all returned to their rooms to sleep, or more likely stay up in fear of another attack. Zuko surely would.

“Go to bed guys, it’s getting late.” 

Evelyn looks at him like he’s one of the dumbest people she’s met, and if Zuko was honest, he probably was. But he simply nodded to Marcella, who had started leaning her head against Evelyn’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. “Uncle, why don’t you take them back to their rooms?”

Considering the fact that Zuko’s guards were around the corner, he wasn’t scared for his safety, but their presence just made him want to remain awake. 

“Nephew, you should sleep as well.” His Uncle replied, though he rose from his seat, bringing the yarn and the start of the scarf under his arm. 

Zuko gave his Uncle a smile, “I will. But if anything happens before then, I’ll be sure to alert you all.” He assured, nodding to Evelyn, who eyed him wearily. But she relented, shaking Marcella gently before standing up alongside her and Iroh. 

When they were out of sight, Zuko plopped back down in the seat, his elbows resting on his knees as he brought his hands to his face.

And for the first time in the night he cried, his body racked with sobs as tears streamed down his face and he struggled to breathe. The pain of all that had happened felt almost unbearable. She had to live. Y/N had to live. Because Zuko was going to confess. 

His fear of losing her outweighed his fear of rejection.

Wiping his tears away, Zuko suddenly felt grateful that Evelyn had left the box of tissues as he blew his nose. He sighed, his eyes piercing the door, hoping that something would happen.

As though his stare had willed her to exit the room, the healer came out, a grimace on her face as she looked to Zuko, likely because of his bloodshot eyes. The woman simply sighed, the grimace becoming a more sympathetic look. “Miss L/N lost a lot of blood... several of her bones were broken when she hit the water, especially her ribs. Her internal organs were damaged as well and... well it wasn’t very likely for her to survive.”

She’s dead.

Y/N is dead.

Oh.

“Wow, you look like a mess.” 

Zuko’s head whips up, his eyes meeting Y/N’s, she’s leaning against a wooden crutch, grinning lazily at him. The healer beside her looks rather apologetic as she frantically explains, “she woke up far quicker than we anticipated and only agreed to rest if we participated in her rather cruel prank.”

So, she wasn’t a ghost.

Zuko launches himself up from the chair, nearly tackling Y/N, but the wooden crutch she uses for support serves as a reminder of her fragile state as he asks, “can I hug you?”

Her smile falters at the sound of his voice, hoarse and jagged, so she simply extends are free arm outward. Zuko takes this as an invitation for a hug, gently wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head in her neck, Y/N wrapped her free arm around his neck, hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. “Im s-”

“It’s not your fault Zuko. I swear if you say its your fault I will throw myself over the balcony again.” She threatened, hand tightening in his hair.

Zuko laughs quietly, inhaling deeply before he speaks again, “please never do that again.” 

“I make no promises.”

Sighing, Zuko releases her, “I hate you so much.” 

Y/N scoffed, “you love me.” She was limping over to the bed in the middle of the room, blood coating the surrounding area. Though the doctors in the room were moving across the room that they’d placed Y/N on, and dealt with her injuries on, Zuko couldn’t help but feel sick at the sight.

She could’ve died.

“Yeah, I do.”

Y/N pauses, turning to look back at him, her mouth gapes open. Zuko’s looking away, eyes on anything but her as he inhales deeply.

The healer simply sighs, “before we do this, I should inform the two of you that Miss Y/N cannot do any... strenuous activities for at least one month.”

Zuko’s cheeks are flushing red as he shakes his head rapidly, “ma’am-”

“We’ll be taking our leave. Have fun, but not too much fun. Please.” The woman closes the door behind her once the other doctors are out of the room, and Y/N can’t stop laughing at the mortified expression on Zuko’s face, despite the sharp pain she feels in her ribs.

Taking a seat on the fresh sheets of the bed, Y/N sighs, “so you love me?” She’s picking at the sheets, “as a friend?”

Zuko suddenly realizes just how right Evelyn was as he slowly shakes his head, “no. More than a friend. I think I inadvertently sabotaged half of the dates you sent me on because of it.”

Y/N laughs quietly, eyes falling on Zuko only to see he’s looking anywhere but her, she calls out to him quietly, “Zuko. Look at me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to bring his gaze to her, eyes meeting hers as he begins to fidget with his hand. Y/N simply reaches her hand out, and he takes it. “I love you too, idiot.” She mumbles, pulling him closer and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I just wish you had told me sooner so I didn’t waste so much time trying to set you up with other women.” 

A small laugh escapes him as he brings his hand to her hair, “how do I know you weren’t purposely giving me bad matches because you were in love with me?” 

Y/N removes her head from his stomach, looking up at him, her nose crinkles, “unlike you, I am a professional.” Zuko flicks her forehead, and Y/N pouts at him, hand coming up to his face, “can I kiss you?”

She can feel his face warm, but he nods rather enthusiastically nonetheless, and Y/N finds herself smiling at his as she uses her hands to pull his face downward towards her. His lips meet hers, and Zuko finds himself feeling complete, hands coming to Y/N’s face in an attempt to pull her closer while hers move to his ball up his robes that he’d yet to change.

 Zuko pulls away first, forehead resting on hers, “you need to sleep.” 

Y/N scoffed, eyes narrowing at him, “you need to sleep.” Looking to the bed, she raises a brow at him, “wanna lay with me?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I could accidentally injure you or-”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N yanks him onto the bed, making her way to the other side and getting comfortable, “I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, everything would be fine. Maybe not for the Fire Nation, seeing as Y/N would potentially help rule a nation but...

Everything would be fine.

in·am·o·ra·ta/iˌnaməˈrädə/

noun

a woman with whom one is in love or has intimate relations.

A/N: i hope this was good enough!!! i tried!!! and idk how it ended up over 12k... that’s crazy man um kjhdsajfhjkah omg i really liked this concept though i hope i did it justice

TAGLISTS [lmk if you want to be added or removed via askbox or replies]

ATLA: @bubblebars​ @jada-cleo​ @Art-flirt @the-deli-meat​ @wemissyou3000​ @ajediherowitchrunner​

ZUKO: @outerxorbit @shawkneecaps @lil-lex1 @boxofteenageideas @izzieserra @eridanuswave @bigbuckyenergy @celamoon @savemesteeb @shephard17895 @ijustwannabecanadian @duh-dobrik @anime-simp @lammello  

[imagineyouandharry]

Gypsophila (H.S)

Summary: Prince Harry has been under great pressure to find a wife, and he finds his Queen in a way far more unconventional than he could’ve imagined. 

Words: 5,730

Warnings: It’s a bit strange I guess? Idk lol.

A/N: Someone requested a Prince!Harry au forever ago, and then I didn’t really have an opportunity to write for a while, and then this idea sprung up on me and I’ve been lost in this little au for the past few days. It’s like a little twisted fairytale, taking inspiration from Snow White and Sleeping Beauty mostly. Part two is already a work in progress. If people are interested I’ll even put out a little sort of world building lore post with a map of the kingdom etc (I’ve been in DEEP). This part is a bit choppy and barely edited because I was just so eager to write it and get something out, but I would really appreciate any constructive criticism and editing notes! TYSM!! Long story short, enjoy!!!

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Harry Edward Styles did not believe in true love, in fact, he thought it was the most ridiculous idea ever. Harry’s certain he’s laid eyes upon every eligible young lady, from his kingdom and the ones surrounding, and he hadn’t felt a single thing when looking at any of them. He prayed every night that he would find his love the next day, and finally be able to put his parents out of their misery and ascend to the throne. At the age of 27, Harry’s the oldest person in his family to not be married, no one every waited this long in the royal family. He would’ve had an arranged marriage at 21, though when his parents suggested that he ran away on a sailing ship for two months. One thing was clear to him: though he may not have experienced love yet, he wasn’t going to ruin his chances at true by being forced into a loveless marriage. It wasn’t only Harry’s parents, but the entire kingdom that woke each day hoping to hear that their Prince had found his Queen. They referred to Harry as the Good Prince, his subjects adored him, and lived for his acts of charity and selflessness, and they only hoped he would find a Queen that would treat them the same.

Harry’s outlook on love changed however, after his most recent hunting trip. Sundays are for family and hunting, that’s what Harry was always told. No day was for Harry, he’d come to learn that. Living under a microscope meant for very little alone time, and almost no guilt-free alone time. He and his hunting party rode across the fields and out to the dense forest surrounding the kingdom, and over the two hour journey Harry found himself agitated with the topics of conversation going on around him. He wanted a break, tired of everyone only ever speaking about royal duties or politics. Harry had discovered a fresh water lake if he went off the trail, and when he realised they were edging closer to his favourite place he decided to excuse himself with the excuse of needing to fill his canteen.

The natural spring was a hidden treasure indeed. Harry’s entire kingdom was cut off from the rest of the world due to the thick forestland surrounding it. There was only one trail in, and one trail out, and even then only experienced riders were able to make the journey. The end of the trail, in the deep of the forest, was also often lined with thieves and outcasts making it not the safest journey. This spring wasn’t necessarily hard to find, however thick trees that lined the main trail hid the spring, the gorgeous wild flowers, and clearing of soft grass either side. Harry tied his horse to his usual tree, softly parting the bushes careful to not cause any permanent damage, and stepped his way through. His kingdom was full of hidden treasures like this, tucked away in places only to be found by those adventurous enough.

The sound of the running water was most prominent, however the closer he walked to the spring, the more he could hear a faint, delicate singing voice. Harry couldn’t recognise the song, but it was one he’d never forget now. It felt as though his heart dropped in his stomach, and he had to lightly scratch his arm on a branch to double check he hasn’t died and was hearing an angel of heaven sing to him. He walked closer, with quiet footsteps so not to disturb the singing. He knelt down to the edge of the spring and began to fill his canteen, looking around his eyes eventually focused on the source of his siren, standing in the clearing over the other side of the spring as she picked a bouquet of dainty flowers. Lavender, daisies, bellflowers, poppies. Her body was dressed in sage green, the simple dress showed she definitely was not from a wealthy family, but it was simple and beautiful in its own way. Perhaps she sewed it herself, it did look as if it were made for her. He could see her hair shine from here, and the features of her side profile were striking him even from a distance. She didn’t look real. The strange girl across the spring looked ethereal, like her beauty was too surreal for this planet. Had he hit his head? Was he seeing a forest fairy? He hadn’t even realised the staggering increase in his heart rate as he watched the girl, and listened.

He lost track of how long he had been watching her for, snapped out of his daydream when he heard a “Your Royal Highness! We must be getting on!” Harry heard shouting at him from a distance, most likely back where he had tied his horse. The girl had heard the faint noise and her eyes shot in Harry’s direction. His cheeks flushed with heat as their eyes met only for a brief second, before she ran away. The eye contact brought a slight curve to his lips, although she was leaving, at least he got another good look at her.

“Wait!” He called as he stood up, his hand and canteen dripping wet. His eyes softened as she simply left, looking back briefly in her stride, but he’d blown it. “God fucking damn it.” He cursed under his breath as he began to trudge back to his horse, his feet weighing heavy on the ground.

That was the most he’d ever felt, looking at the stranger across the lake singing as if it were for him, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d just lost his future Queen. Half of him wanted to wade through the water and run after her, but Harry wasn’t a often disobedient Prince, when one of his parents or advisors told him to jump, his usual response would be “how high?” It’s ironic how for someone who’s whole life depends on finding his future Queen is given so little time to actually explore a social life, or love life himself. He was always set up with suitors who his parents found best. In the rare times he’s able to sneak away he’d gotten around, and most definitely wasn’t a virgin, but he’d never found a girl who had made him feel the way he wanted to feel about his future queen. He only wanted to please his family, and his realm, but this was the one thing where he refused to compromise.

Y/N was as far away from a future queen as it could come, or at least that’s what her step-mother wanted everyone to think. The entire town hoped to marry their daughters off to the elusive Good Prince Harry, however her step-mother only wanted her biological daughters to have that chance. When Y/N’s father passed away her step-mother sent her out to live as a recluse in a tiny cottage in the woods, she had always feared that her beauty would distract future husbands away from her actual daughters, and didn’t want to ruin their chance of being married. Each Sunday she drops Y/N off the supplies she needs, but that was the only human contact she was given. It wasn’t too bad, she managed to keep herself busy with sewing, baking, or whatever other art or craft she could think of and had the materials for. It was lonely though, and she was ultimately alone.

Well, if you don’t count forest fairies. Y/N hated being outcast into the forest, and spent most of her early months in the cottage crying to whatever wild animal she could find that day that would stick around long enough. Eventually, these wild animals started bringing their fairy friends along with them. They would spend their days with Y/N tending to fruit and vegetable gardens, watering plants, having picnics, and making daisy chains. Her life was simple, and although not one she asked, it was one she was growing fond of. Male company was something she could only imagine and long for, or read about in story books. There were dozens of fairies living in the forest, but she’d become particularly close to a group of some of the female fairies.

Each Sunday before her step mother visits, Y/N will pick her step mother a bouquet of flowers in attempt to win her over, in hopes maybe one day her sweetness will earn her way back into town. Y/N had total obliviousness towards her step mother’s plan, and towards what was going on in the city. This year, any woman over the age of 21 was to present herself to the Prince. Y/N’s 21st birthday fell on the day she was scheduled to be presented to the Prince. The letter had been delivered shortly before she was sent away to the forest, Y/N never laid her eyes upon it though. The letter outlined the royal guard would be coming to collect anyone who failed to present themselves on the day, and to Y/N’s step mother that meant the only option was to make it so Y/N never turned 21, or made it to her birthday for that matter.

Seeing the Prince most definitely did spook Y/N during that day in the field, if her step mother ever found out she’d had contact with a male there was no chance she’d ever be allowed to move back home. She did all she could think to do. She ran. She ran so fast that the petals of the flowers she had picked were ruined in her haste, quickly shutting herself inside the cottage to gather herself before her routine afternoon visit from her step mother. Sure she knew of men to be dangerous and terrible, but she feared her step-mother’s wrath more than anything any man could put her through.

Like any other Sunday, she scrubbed the house and dressed herself in whatever new garment she had stitched herself this week. The fairies had been busy this week and she’d had a great deal of time to herself, embroidering colourful flowers into the soft white linen of the new dress she had made. Her step-mother would bring her fabric and thread to sew dresses for her step sisters. It was something to be proud of, but most likely would be over looked. Little was said upon her step-mother’s arrival, but her character seemed off. Her step-mother’s eyes darted around, checking windows as she insisted on making the two of them tea. Y/N sat down at the small dining table, recounting tales of her week, ensuring to leave out anything about fairies or a boy. She watched a small bunny outside the window, forgetting to speak as awe overwhelmed her whilst she watched its tiny nose twitch. Her daydream came to an end when the sound of the ceramic mug hit the hard wood of the coffee table. “Drink while it’s warm, my love.” Her step-mother told her, sitting down in the seat at the head of the table beside Y/N. It wasn’t long after that that Y/N hit the floor, and her step-mother was shrouding herself in a hooded coat and sneaking out of the tiny cabin.

Elsie, a fairy most close to Y/N, who specialises in healing, came to the conclusion that she was only out for about six hours before the fairies found her. They did all they could over the following weeks to bring her back to life, trying as many possible rituals, potions, and spells to give life to her body once more. Nothing was of use though, and instead they decided to preserve her in a glass case in the clearing amongst the wildflowers. She had professed to them that the clearing by the spring had been her favourite place, so they saw this fit. Preserving her in the glass case was simply because the idea of her beauty decaying away made any of the fairies shriek. Fairies never communicated with humans, however Y/N was different. Elsie had always theorised that Y/N had magic in her blood. Amongst the many spells and rituals they tried to bring Y/N back, they threw in a spell that would hopefully bring her back with true love’s kiss. It was like a safety net, or a ‘what if?’ But they eventually tired and wore out, preserving her was well enough for now. They kept her dressed in the new dress she had crafted for herself, it was so beautiful after all. They had placed tiny baby’s breath flowers throughout her hair, and made sure everything was perfect. They even went as far to adorn her in delicate gold jewellery, with beautiful crystals of all colours. Her body rested upon a large rectangular slab of rose quartz.

****

Harry was dreading sitting in the throne room, while all the eligible females from the town were presented to him like livestock. It made him sick, and left a terrible taste in his mouth. All he could think of was the girl from the clearing. Is she a sign? Is he his ticket out of here? Was seeing her fate? Questions like that simmered over his mind and kept him awake at night, he had been sleeping little and finding it hard to focus on his duties. His best friend Niall was he closest confidant, the only one he had told about the beautiful girl in the clearing that day. Niall cared more for Harry than anyone, really. He didn’t just care about his fame or power or wealth, Harry was his best friend and he hated seeing his best mate so down about his love life and the pressure to marry a woman he doesn’t love. He made it his mission to find the woman, and his detective work lead him down a path he didn’t expect at all. First he went to the clearing where Harry filled his water in the spring, that was where he first noticed something over the other side of the spring that he couldn’t quite make out. He followed the spring and found an area narrow enough to cross, making his way to the structure he’d seen earlier. He didn’t know what to make of this discover, a dead girl in a glass coffin. ‘Forever at rest, only to be woken by true love’s kiss’ read an inscription on a gold plaque. He really didn’t know what to make of this. He didn’t know what to tell Harry.

Sweat lingered Niall’s brow as he made his way back to the castle to find Harry, to tell him of his discovery. “Look… I just need you to come with me and tell me what you think when we’re there.” Niall tells him, his voice somewhat breathless. Niall himself was still in disbelief, shock, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “I just- I don’t know what to tell you. You need to see it for yourself.” He adds.

Harry nods. “I’ll come immediately.” Harry tells him, his trust for Niall outweighing anything else going on in his head. Together they rode to the forest, crossed the narrow part of the spring, and towards where Niall had discovered Y/N.

“Is this the girl you were talking about?” Niall asks, however when he looks from the girl to Harry, he knows the answer. Harry couldn’t help but fall to his knees, pressing his palms against the glass as he looked inside. He noticed how long her eyelashes looked, and the freckles on her nose. His nose was almost touching the glass as he leant here on his knees at the side of her, taking her in up close.

“What happened to you?” He whispers, his eyebrows knitting together. Niall gives him a moment before he decides to mention the plaque at the foot of the structure.

“It uh, says something weird about being awoken by true love’s kiss. I don’t know if it’s true, and it’s revolting to think you would kiss a dead body for nothing, but someone has put her here. Someone made this. My grandmother in her old age would mutter stories about forest fairies and their magic… It just makes you wonder, you know?” He ponders, his eyes wandering away. It felt silly to bring up magic, it was something very commonly dismissed.

“Help me get this off.” Harry said as he brought himself from the ground, the soft grass had left green stains on his tan riding pants. He pushed the sleeves of his white linen button down up past his elbows, and the two men carefully lift the heavy glass case up off of the rose quartz Y/N had been resting on. It wasn’t easy, and the glass at the bottom dug into Harry’s fingers before they set the glass piece of the structure down on to the grass. “Alright. Here we go.” Harry said, in attempt to psych himself up for kissing a dead girl. She didn’t look dead though, just sleeping, you could only tell she was dead due to the missing rising and fall in her chest with her breath. “I might start walking back to the horses, give you some privacy.” Niall said, giving him a slight smile. He also didn’t really want to witness someone kiss a dead person, if she didn’t end up waking up.

“Good luck. Take your time.” He adds, part of him had no doubt it was going to work though. The stories his grandmother would tell him of the forest fairies were something he’d always held on to, those stories were amongst his most treasured memories. He’d always had some hope.

Harry waited until he could no longer hear Niall’s footsteps before he leant down close to Y/N, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. He took a moment, if this never worked it was going to be the last time he’d ever see her. He couldn’t fathom coming back to this spot if this didn’t work. His heart began to ache at the thought, it made his chest feel tight, and gave him the urge to rub at the spot.

“I really hope you’re who I think you are.” He whispers as he looks down at her. “This might seem like absolute madness. I don’t even know your name, but if you wake up for me, I swear to you I will be yours forever.” He began, to Harry this almost did feel like a ritual, it felt special, and the words he was speaking were amongst the most genuine he’d ever given life to. “I promise, I will protect you. I will provide for you. I will love you. I will never, ever harm you. I will love you until my very last breath, I just need you to do this one thing for me.” His voice was barely a whisper now, and breaking as hot tears welled in his eyes. He very carefully leant down, pressing his warm, puffy lips against her cold, smooth ones. He didn’t know how long to wait, but it didn’t feel wrong. It was a sweet, tender kiss. His eyes closed, and he felt at peace. It felt more than at peace. The long grass, wildflowers, and tree branches that surrounded them began to stir with wind, petals floating up into the gusts that took them. This girl had a tendency to make him feel like he’s dead and in heaven. Her lips slowly began to warm, and skin began to glow with heat. It felt like they were floating, as if the universe was made up of just the two of them. The flowers beneath him began to grow taller and more dense, and it began to feel like his heart was pulling towards hers. It felt like a tether had been formed, connecting their energy, he could feel as her heart began to pump blood again, and her energy radiate from her skin. It felt too surreal.

Slowly, Harry removed his lips to allow Y/N to breathe. He let a hand lay gently resting on her cheek as he watched her gasp for her first new breath, eyes shooting open as she looked up at him. It wasn’t shock she was met with when her eyes met Harry’s, but peace. The luminous green eyes that were gazing down upon her were like lighthouses, guiding her towards safety. So many questions began to race her mind as she came to reality, unable to decide which one to ask first. As if based on intuition, Harry decided to speak. “I uh- I’m not too sure what happened to you but my friend found you here today and brought me to you. I believe I saw you a few weeks ago, in the same spot. I’m not sure how long you’ve been out here, but there was this little plaque at the end of this thing here, that said something about a kiss to wake you up… I’m sorry for kissing you without your consent, but I couldn’t risk not taking this chance.” He didn’t mean to ramble or to overwhelm her with his spiel, but he was overwhelmed himself with everything that had just gone on. True love’s kiss. His queen. His true love. The other half of his soul, in human form. Y/N’s lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. She closed them once more as she sat up and looked around, swinging her legs off the side of the marble before looking back up to Harry. Her movement had disconnected his hand from her face, and they both longed for each other’s touch once more already. Her eyes began to well with tears as she began to think about how she got here, her last memories.

“I can only assume how overwhelming this must all be for you… We can stay here as long as you need, it’s just us. When you feel ready for it, I can take you back to my home and we can get you showered and fed. I don’t mean you any harm.” Harry doesn’t even need to add that last sentence though, because she can feel it. She can feel his love for her, she could almost hear it if she listened closely enough, as if his heart was now beating a song for her.

Harry stood back, as if to give the doe eyed girl some space. She looked at him as if he was the most precious treasure on Earth, he’d never felt so overwhelmed with love. This was followed by her delicate hands reaching out, taking ahold of his as she brought herself to stand in front of him. “Is it alright if you hold me for a second?” She asked softly, needing time to process things.

It had been so long since she had been touched affectionately, she couldn’t really remember it. Her father was never affectionate, nor her step mother or step sisters or anyone else she’d met. She felt comfortable with the stranger in front of her though, and didn’t have the energy to resist the magnet like force pulling her towards him.

“Of course.” He responds, his voice soft as he wraps his arms gently around her frame, pulling her into his warm figure. Harry was like the perfect, giant teddy bear… but he wasn’t really that soft. Pressed against him she could feel how chiseled his features are. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she relaxed into him, cheek against the skin of his chest kindly revealed by the first few buttons of his shirt being undone. “What’s your name?” He asks, tangling his fingers in her hair to lightly rub his fingertips against the tender skin at the back of her neck.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Yours?” She asks, looking up to the tall, broad man.

“Harry.” He decides on leaving out his royal title or last name.

“Just Harry?” She asks, her eyebrows raising.

“For now. We have plenty of time to talk about me later.” He notes, removing the same rogue strand of hair as before from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. It was almost as if her hair had a life of its own, breathing, like the other flora growing in the forest. He had noticed the baby’s breath in her hair, though her hair moved, they remained in the same places, as if growing out of their place on the strand of hair. “What do you last remember?” He asks, needing to know if whatever put her in eternal sleep had been by accident, or as an act of malice. She looks back away from his face, resting her cheek once more against his chest.

“My step-mother, Styephania came over, she made me tea. That’s all I can really remember.” She said, unable to stop the disappointed sigh from escaping her lips. Maybe she’d had a freak health accident, like a stroke. Just because she’d been mistreated by her step mother her whole life, didn’t mean she was capable of murder. She knew her step mother didn’t put her out here though, this was the work of fairies. They were looking on, hiding in the bushes as they stood witness to young love blossom in front of them, not wanting to disturb the two of them. “I look crazy, and it sounds crazier saying this, but I’m certain the forest fairies are responsible for looking after me and putting me here. The day she came over was the day I think you saw me here, and I’m not sure how I’m meant to feel but I don’t feel like I’ve been a dead body since then. I feel like no time has passed at all.” Harry avidly listened to her speak, her voice like caramel, seeping in his ears and warming his whole body. Harry wasn’t phased by her mentioning fairies, Niall had suspecting this being their work earlier. It was the only explanation Harry could think of. He couldn’t understand why her step mother would leave her here, why she wouldn’t find her help.

He didn’t want to worry his sweet girl now, he wanted to make sure she felt alright, safe, and cared for. His grip on her wasn’t too tight, but firm in a comforting way. “The plaque… It mentioned how you’d only be woken by true love’s kiss.” He figured the longer he waited to tell her the stranger it would be. His cheeks were red, as if embarrassed or ashamed to tell her about the plaque, how strange it all was. Her eyes met his, and the connection gave him whiplash. He couldn’t peel his eyes away, getting lost in the little pools. He wanted to know everything about her, what she liked, disliked, what she ate for breakfast, her favourite songs, flowers, secrets. Everything.

“I don’t know if I know what love feels like. The only men I’ve spoken to are all twice my age. I wasn’t really allowed to see boys. You’re definitely much, much more beautiful than I would’ve imagined a man to be, and I’m certain that my heart is literally beating for you now, since you woke me.” She tells him, the descriptions of heroes in stories she would read, or how she would imagine the older men to look when they were younger, were incomparable to Harry. The compliment made his cheeks flush. With each beat of her heart, it was as if it was pulling her closer to Harry, calling out for him, begging for him to love on her and soothe the ache in her chest.

“How has God made something so sweet?” He mumbles, he hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud at first. “You’re breath taking. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, and trust me when I say I’ve seen a lot of them. Even from far away, the first time I saw you… You make me nervous. You make my heart race, and my palms sweat, and I get butterflies in my stomach and nervous when I think about saying the wrong thing or not having you like me. It’s as if you’ve been carved by God himself, like he was showing off when he made you so beautiful. I wish I’d met you sooner.” Those last words burn his throat, how easier the last few years would have been if he had just been able to find her sooner.

*****

Harry sent Niall back to the castle first, having him instruct everyone to clear out the path that the Prince and his soon to be queen would take to his suite, he didn’t want to spook her with people around. The guards had to stay though, non-negotiable. He also had Niall ensure the doctor was on standby, just to check on Y/N and stay in the castle over the upcoming weeks in case anything else happened. Security was going to be increased, and tightened, and a warrant put out for her step mother.

The two hour horseback ride to the castle would give them well enough time to get to know each other, Harry and Niall had also switched horses, Niall’s being the slower of the two. “I don’t want to startle you when we get there. I also don’t know how to really tell you this. I’m in the royal family, so the guards and whatnot are something to just be ignored. They’re for your protection. I don’t know if you heard much of what I was telling Niall earlier, but you’re going to be very safe here, and we’ll find out what happened. I’ll look after you, I promise.” His eyes are ahead as he speaks, looking over the vast green fields ahead of them once they eventually emerged from the forest.

“Still just Harry, to me.” She reassured, sensing his nerves about revealing this information to her. His shoulders relaxed at her reaction, and a smile formed on his lips when his mind began to wander into what their future may be like. His queen.

“Hey, one day that’ll be King Harry to you.” He joked, thankful that it was received with a laugh. Her laughter was almost as sweet as her songs, and for the rest of the journey he made it his mission to mine as many possible laughs out of her as he could, like little nuggets of treasure. After making their way through the fields that lined the forest, they went down a long road that served as a divide between two of the castle’s towns, and at the end of that road just past a small valley of mountains was a sight far more glorious than Y/N had imagined. Her village was a small village that contained mostly candlemakers and dressmakers, and it sat further to the east, people only ever going out there to purchase fine candles and clothing. It was niche though, and not many could afford the fineries the master crafters in her village would create. Y/N hadn’t even really seen a home larger than a cottage, Harry’s castle looked large enough as if it could contain its own little world, a complete wilderness of towers surrounded by fine gardens, protected by a large moat with a standalone drawbridge. Harry didn’t even need to announce himself, the drawbridge was already in the process of being lowered for him.

“I had Niall clear our path, I don’t want to overwhelm you. I’ll introduce you to everyone when you’re ready.” Harry reassures her, she hadn’t even thought of anyone else though, too in awe of the sights around her. Flowers she’d never seen before laced these gardens, with fine marble sculptures and fountains protruding from them.

“I can’t believe this is your home.” Y/N whispers, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Your home too, if you’d like.” Harry replies, though his words immediately shrouded him with nerves about rushing Y/N into anything. It was stupid, they were each other’s true love’s, but it felt wrong being strangers, so Harry tried his best to conceal things. He’d never been in a conventional relationship before, never mind whatever this arrangement is or was going to be. He just knew he wasn’t meant to rush things, so he tried to refrain from expressing his feelings as best as he could. Her arms around his waist tightened, Y/N needing to feel as close to Harry as possible. He held the reins in one hand, the other arm resting over hers around his stomach, holding on to her arm to make sure she couldn’t let go.

“I’d like that.” Y/N reassures, gently rubbing his side to soothe him. Harry was too caught up in his own feelings to pay attention to how calm Y/N was. She could feel his anxiety though, and continued to try to soothe him as best she could. Y/N knew very little about Harry so far, but what she did know was that he was kind, caring, and had a lot of worries. She’d never been a worrisome person, and if anything would even refer to herself as naive, it was something she’d always been almost ashamed of but in this moment felt like maybe she’d been made to be by Harry’s side. Y/N liked the idea of spending her days being Harry’s rock, a voice of reason. She’d rather a man like this than one who had no emotions, that was for sure. It could’ve been whatever was now eternally bonding them, but she swears she was feeling his emotions, able to see his aura if she really studied hard enough. She sunk into him some more, her arms around his waist, cheek resting against his back. Harry made sure to take it extra slow, giving his love enough time to appreciate the flowers. She seemed to like flowers, and his mother took pride in this being the most beautiful garden amongst all of the kingdoms. He couldn’t wait to show her all the fineries that came with his life.

[xaphrin]

I am hoping to post this whole fic all at once, but I was so happy with this chapter that I wanted to share it. So, here. Have some "I wasn't supposed to fall in love with my wedding baker" AU.

- - -

When Damian opened the door to find Raven standing in the hallway, the expression on her face spoke volumes about her feelings of being here when most people were dead asleep.

She adjusted the large plastic container in her hands and shook a lock of hair out of her eyes. “You are aware that it’s two in the morning, right?”

Damian knew. Of course he did. A part of him almost felt apologetic for calling Raven and forcing her to come to his home in the middle of the night (especially over something as insignificant as lemon curd), but with the premium he was paying her for an off-hours house call, he didn’t allow that apology to take root. He’d been accused of being a “night owl” on more than one occasion, but the truth was that he suffered from occasional bouts of insomnia. And if he had to suffer through this ailment, then so should others - including the baker for his wedding.

“I’m paying you enough to make up for your interrupted sleep schedule.” Without any ceremony, he ushered her into his penthouse, closing the door behind her. Titus pushed past him and nudged Raven’s hip, begging for pets. Damian couldn’t help but notice that Titus paid Raven more attention than he paid his own fiance. “Sleep when you’re dead.”

Raven’s lips pulled to the side in a teasing half-smile, her eyes meeting his. “How chivalrous of you.” There was a small pause as she set the plastic container down on a small table by the door and bent down to scratch Titus behind the ears. “You know that your night time doorman seems to think I’m here for purposes other than cake. Why else would some strange woman be visiting you at an unreasonable hour?”

Damian didn’t care what his doorman thought, and he highly doubted Raven cared. She was just trying to get under his skin. He shrugged and turned away from her, motioning her to follow him deeper into his flat. “I hardly see how that is my problem. Besides, didn’t you say that you get up at four in the morning anyway?”

Her face fell. “That is entirely beside the point, and you know that, Mr. Wayne.”

“You can call me Damian.” He had reminded her of that fact at least half a dozen times now.

“Ha.” Her sarcastic laugh made him smirk. “No one calls a Wayne by their first name. It’s akin to social suicide. I’d be willing to bet that you even call your father Mr. Wayne.”

Damian walked her through the massive living room, heading towards the kitchen at the far end of his flat. “Only on holidays, and the occasional birthday.”

Raven snorted. “Ah. I see how deep the decorum runs.” As they walked into the kitchen, her face lit up with surprise, and she let go of a low whistle. Pushing past him, she inspected the appliances with blatant envy. “Do you even know what I would do to have this oven in my posession? I would commit war crimes to get this oven in my apartment.” She opened the oven doors and looked inside before standing up and turning to him, eyes narrowing. “Is this just for show? Do you even bake?”

“No.”

Raven closed the oven door and sighed. “Pity.”

“I cook.”

That seemed to pique her interest, and she leaned against the marble countertop, watching him with a sharp stare. There was a long stretch of silence, and it felt like her eyes were boring into him, stripping away everything that protected him until it felt like each flaw was exposed to her scrutiny. In any other situation, Damian would have slammed up some kind of barrier to keep her from looking too deep, but this time he found himself oddly comfortable with letting her investigate him. He didn’t mind showing her his weaknesses, and that thought should have scared him, but it didn’t. He kept his face blank and let her watch him.

“You know… I am having a hard time imagining you slaving over a stove in a hot kitchen.” Her head tilted to the side and she smirked. “Although I like the thought of you wearing a frilly apron. A soft pink one, with ruffles and bows.”

His face fell and he crossed his arms over his chest. Cheeky. “I am docking your home visit fee until you take that back.”

“Mm. Worth it.” She turned away from him, and reached for the plastic container on the counter, unsnapping the lid. In an instant, Titus was at her side and Damian watched her sneak him a treat she had obviously made for him. Raven seemed to make herself at home in his kitchen, as if she belonged there. He found himself smiling at her, and a strange kind of warmth filled his chest.

“So, tell me your fear with the lemon curd, and why it was so imperative that you force me out of bed at two o’clock in the morning to travel all the way across town with cake samples.”

Well, when she put it like that, it did make him sound like a typical, spoiled son of an eccentric billionaire. Damian ignored that small spot of guilt again and settled on a stool at the eat-in counter. “I think my fiance is allergic to lemons… or curd. I can’t remember, but it’s one of those.” He thought for a long moment, trying to remember what it was that she had said last time he had spoken to his fiance.

“You can’t remember?” Raven turned back around and looked at him, her expression incredulous. “Haven’t you two known each other for years? That's what all the tabloids say anyway.”

Oh, right. The tabloids were spinning the relationship into some falsehood of star-crossed lovers who used to be childhood best friends. The truth was far less interesting. “We have known of each other for years. We’ve crossed paths at various parties and events, and my father and hers have a mutual business relationship. But, knowing each other implies some kind of deep, long term relationship. Something more than casual friends.”

“Ah.” Raven rummaged through his cabinets for plates, setting them next to the plastic container containing cake samples. “And I take it that’s not what you have with the daughter of Queen Consolidated?”

Damian shrugged, knowing that talking about the arrangement was opening himself to all kinds of scrutiny from her. But, there was something about Raven that made it almost comfortable to open up to her. In all the times they had been together, she never seemed like the type to spill his secrets. In fact, she seemed to keep them closer than most people he knew. He actually liked talking to her - even with her cheeky attitude. “We’ve only been together in an official capacity for a few months.”

“Oh…”

Her tone seemed to waffle between pity and understanding, and Damian felt like he had to scramble for an explanation. It felt like he didn’t want her to think less of him as a person.

“The marriage is one of a business nature. Our families would be brought together with the marriage of children. It would strengthen the ties between us.” After saying it out loud, Damian realized how cynical that sounded. It was more than just a business move. For all intents and purposes, he liked Emiko, she was smart and polite and reasonably attractive. Marrying her was a good, sound move. He would be content though their marriage.

“I didn’t realize that was still a thing - marrying for business purposes.” Raven pulled out cake samples from the plastic box and placed them on the counter. “Sounds a little medieval, if you ask me.”

Damian shrugged, not feeling any particular way about her comments. “She’s a lovely woman.”

“Is she?” Raven scoffed. “My landlady is a lovely woman. The mail person is a lovely woman. The person who delivers my takeaway is a lovely woman." She gave him a flat stare, pursing her lips. "Lovely woman is not a term of endearment you use for someone you're madly in love with."

"I never said I was madly in love with her."

"Ah. I see. I must have misunderstood." She handed him a slice of cake, her eyes as sharp as a hawk’s as she watched him. "Raspberry and chocolate." She paused. "Is that the business agreement to the marriage then? You marry Emiko Queen, and in return both families have fingers in each other’s pots… so to speak.”

"Yes." Damian took a bite of the cake, and he tasted the sharp tartness of the raspberry at the forefront of the cake before melting away to luscious chocolate. Just like the first time he tasted her cakes, he barely kept himself from moaning in pleasure. She had to bake magic into her cakes for them to taste this damn good. He chewed slowly, letting himself wallow in the flavor.

"Does she love you?"

Damian swallowed and stared at her. The question caught him off guard. He knew for certain he didn’t love her, but he had never really thought about whether or not she loved him. "That's forward of you."

"Asking if your fiance loves you?" She snorted and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "You're right. How rude of me." Another slice of cake appeared. "Pistachio and cardamom."

He took a bite and tamped down a shiver. She was a magician, there was no other explanation. The flavor curled in his mouth like spiced smoke. "It'll be a fine arrangement."

"Mm. How romantic, an arrangement. Be still my fluttering heart."

Damian rolled his eyes and took another bite of cake. "I am amazed you manage to keep clients with the mouth on you."

She gave a one shouldered shrug. "I let my work speak for me." There was a pause and she leaned over the counter to look closer at him, trying to decipher his expression. “But you never answered my question. Does she love you?”

Damian blinked, letting her question settle in the pit of his stomach. Did his fiance love him? He doubted it, but then again, he never thought to ask. Emiko wasn’t frigid to him, but she wasn’t overly attached either. Indifferent seemed to be the best way to describe her feelings, as though she cared for him as nothing more than a distant friend. She seemed to view this arrangement the same way he did - a duty to her family and a business transaction. Nothing more.

“Your silence speaks volumes.” Raven’s head tilted to the side and she stared at him again, blatantly reading his face. He felt uncomfortable, letting her sharp eyes watch him. She seemed to see more than anyone else had. “I see hundreds of couples a year, and I’ve learned to pick out who truly cares for each other, and who really doesn't know what they want."

Damian took another bite of the pistachio cake, never looking away from her face. Even when she was picking him apart, she was beautiful. "And I take it that you believe I'm the latter?"

"I don't just believe, I know." She handed him another slice of cake. "Orange spice."

"I'm not particular about marrying for love. I've never subscribed to the idea." The orange spice was by far the best, and it immediately went on the short-list.

A pitying look crossed her face. "You don't believe in love?"

That question made him pause, and he looked back at her, his head filled with something akin to smoke. It was like he couldn’t think beyond her question. "I… don't know." He realized with some small amount of shock that he really didn't know. As he sat there, watching her, he realized that he never thought he would fall in love. He had crushes and minor relationships, but nothing that he would call love. Nothing that made him feel like the world was falling out from under his feet, and he was left clamoring for something that made him whole.

“You look surprised by your own answer.” Raven’s voice was soft, nearly swallowed up by the silence between them. “Did you honestly think you would never fall in love?”

“I suppose I did.” Damian took another bite of cake and shifted in his seat. “Love never seemed like something I gave much thought to. My duty has always been to my family, and as long as I am comfortable, I don’t see the need for much else.”

Raven pulled out another slice of cake. “Have you thought that maybe you haven’t met the right person?”

Damian’s face fell and he stared at her, taking the slice of cake from her. “That seems a trite response.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps. That’s vanilla and rose water.”

Damian’s face scrunched at the flavor and he pushed it away. “That rose water is abhorrent.”

A soft laugh escaped and Raven shook her head. “Rose water is very en vogue right now. I’m not fond of it, but some people like it.” She took the slice back and leaned against the counter. “So, tell me if you don’t mind, why are you putting all this effort into a wedding with someone you don't have feelings for?"

"It's meant to be a performance." He hummed softly, thinking. “Both of our families have a reputation to uphold, and if we don’t live up to that expected standard, the media will tear us apart. Emiko doesn’t need any poor publicity.”

“Mm. I understand to a point.” She paused and pulled out another slice of cake. “You’re very pragmatic about this.”

The way she said that didn’t sound like a compliment. Damian took the offered cake. “I don’t require your approval.”

“I never said you did. I’m only in this for the absolutely exorbitant fee you’re paying me.” She smirked. “But… I am curious, don’t you want to fall in love? Just once?”

“And who would I fall in love with?” He took a bite of cake and practically sighed. Chocolate and orange.

“You’re a Wayne. More than half the world would be willing to fall in love with you. Take your pick.”

“I don’t think you can force love.”

Raven shrugged. “Well, your upstanding camaraderie with your fiance doesn’t fit the bill either.”

He blinked and took another bite of the cake. This was the one. “I never intended to love her. Our partnership will be fine.”

Raven lifted an eyebrow. “So… what happens if you fall in love with someone before you get married?”

“I hardly think that will happen.” He scoffed and took a third bite of the cake. He doubted he would find anyone who could coax him to fall in love. That seemed like an impossible task. “And even if I did, it changes nothing.”

“You’re so committed to this marriage. It’s admirable.” Her smile widened. “I take it the orange and chocolate one is the winner? You’ve eaten half the slice already.”

“You’re talented at this.” He took another bite and met her stare. “What about you?”

“I think the chocolate orange will both make a statement and still be appropriately conservative.”

“That’s not what I asked.” His eyes searched hers, and he suddenly realized he had to know. He had to know if there was anyone in her life that meant more than just a friend. He wanted to know who her heart beat for. “Are you in love?”

Color crawled up her neck. “That’s a pretty personal question to ask your baker.”

Damian shrugged. “For what I’m paying you, humor me.”

She chewed on her lower lip and glanced away, and she shifted for a moment. “Currently? No. I was in love once, but… it faded.” She looked back into his eyes. “But that doesn’t make it any more special and important.”

"And you want to fall in love again?" He felt strange and a little invasive asking these questions, but some part of him wanted to know. He wanted to know not just about falling in love, but Raven falling in love specifically. Would she fall in love again? And with whom?

"Of course." Her voice was soft and gentle, and she gave him a small, almost sad smile. "I haven’t found the right person to fall for just yet. But it’ll come.”

Something in Damian’s chest twisted and he found himself reaching across the counter to rest his hand next to hers. It was as close as he dared to get to her. She met his stare for a long moment, and that feeling in his chest turned almost painful. He wanted to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, to feel her skin under his fingertips, but his hand stayed firmly pressed against the cool marble of the counter.

He swallowed slowly and nodded. “The chocolate orange.”

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc

genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff 

word count: 2.2k

WARNINGS: none (pls tell me if there’s anything i missed!)

a/n: THEIR LOVE STORY CONTINUES AND YOU WILL FIND OUT ON MY NEXT POST! i will say this over and over again, THANK YOU WITH ALL MY HEART! 

epilogue | masterlist

The trial of your father was not something you have ever imagined you would experience nor witness in this lifetime. Despite having the option to not go, you still attended. You weren’t present at the court itself though. Instead you waited at the parking lot with Jeongyeon everyday from the first day up to the last day. The judge’s verdict was obvious and irrevocable. Your father’s ancestry, title and reputation didn’t matter in the eyes of justice. At some point, you couldn’t accept it still but eventually you knew that every wrong must be corrected.

You can say that the wounds from this inevitable downfall burned the most than the wounds inflicted by the enemy.  

Wonwoo was at your apartment when you arrived after the long hours of waiting. He just finished showering, drying his hair with a clean towel when he greeted you. After getting discharged from the hospital, he didn’t fail to visit your place and most times, he would stay the night. That’s why it’s natural and comforting to see him lounge around as if he has been living with you from the get go. 

He already knows how the trial went because it was everywhere. He catches you with his arms once your bag is dropped on the couch and the tears you have been holding back start to fall. It’s not easy to cry every second, every minute and every hour. It’s not easy to accept that your tears are not enough. Not enough to help your father without damaging everything else further. 

Your face was buried on the crook of your lover’s neck as you finally let it all out. He holds you there for a while before he moves the two of you to the couch and keeps you close by letting you take a seat on his lap.

You love your father so much but it is only right and only just to let this Kingdom punish him for the crimes he committed against the people he swore honesty and protection to. 

The exhaustion made you fall asleep and Wonwoo left you be until he had to wake you because he doesn’t want you to skip your meal. After munching on a few bites, he led you to the bathroom for a warm bath, sitting on the cold tiled floor as he took care of you. And in the late evening, he held you close as you retired from the pain of the day.

Wonwoo is a gift and he makes every single day a little better.

You and Wonwoo decided to tie the knot three years later than what was initially arranged. It just felt right at the time to postpone the wedding and do what should be done. The Prince can tell that your heart and mind was not set on marriage yet because of what was currently happening. He was the one who brought it up, suggesting a postponement if you needed the time to think and of course, to wait. He didn’t mind because he’s one hundred percent sure that he is yours and it wasn’t necessary to immediately hold a wedding to seal the deal.

Three years of waiting wasn’t the timeline you intentionally planned on but if one were to count, that’s how long the two of you endured. The plan to have a grand wedding was scrapped and essentially, you two were back to zero. The venue, decorations, menu and even the custom made wedding dress and tuxedo were either auctioned or donated. It was a unanimous decision among you, him, your mother and his parents. It was for the better and taking things slow in your relationship was much needed anyway. 

On the subject of parents, Wonwoo’s, for a period of time, were uneasy with your relationship. It was not because of you and what your father did. Their Majesties were wise enough to not hold anything against you and who you are. What made them uneasy was the people and their talking. If some were still loyal and supported and rooted for you, some were the exact opposite. The tabloids were cruel as well and you didn’t miss them displayed in every newsstand. They still gossiped about your father and even talked about the most irrelevant nonsense. Like come on, who cares about you wearing an orange jacket on a normal Sunday?

But the major stumbling block for them was your recommendation to abolish the Royal Family of your Kingdom. 

You have pondered about it for quite a while and when you have made your decision, you discussed it with the rest of your relatives. As the times have changed, reigning as the sole power of the kingdom didn’t appeal to your family anymore. Some of your father’s siblings and cousins have discussed this already even before your father himself inherited the throne. It just so happened that the then cabinet members strongly opposed the idea. However this time, things will be different for and with you. 

By right, you are the Queen of the Kingdom and it won’t be for much longer.

It was a long and exhausting process. You had to meet with the Cabinet and the policy making body of the Kingdom. For a whole year, you were lobbying and arguing with a lot of individuals who have their own greedy political agendas. However, for the same whole year, the people were supportive of your decision and goal. That pushed you forward and motivated you to not give up. It paid off because in the end, you stepped down as the last Queen to ever reign in your family and ultimately, the Kingdom. 

Countless aspiring public servants stole the spotlight the following year as the campaign season started. Some still encouraged you to hold a position to which you declined immediately. It was a tight competition because every candidate had the potential. The people were smarter and at the same time stronger. They knew who they wanted and needed to lead the Kingdom. No flowery words could ever sway them. 

Power to the people indeed.

You were present to the formulation and enactment of the new laws that will hopefully make the Kingdom and its citizens flourish without the presence of abuse of power and dishonesty. Once you finally signed the last piece of document as the Queen, the Kingdom is not yours anymore and you have never felt so free. 

During the (unintentional) three year wait, you and Wonwoo made the most out of your time as boyfriend and girlfriend, fiancé and fiancée. Well, the engagement ring wasn’t returned to you so you’re quite unsure about the status of the latter. You didn’t lose it though. Wonwoo admitted on one of your dates that it’s with him and that he’ll eventually give it back. 

Wonwoo stayed and continued working at the Royal Hospital meanwhile you decided to leave your current law firm and establish a new one to serve the public. It was a busy year of transition and you felt bad that you dragged Wonwoo into it. Even though he promised that he didn’t mind, you still can’t help but feel terrible that he’s carrying a whole lot of baggage that isn’t his. 

He will just shush you with a kiss on the lips whenever you bring it up and you hate how he makes it work. 

For most of the time, you were awfully busy, you had to bring work back to your apartment. Wonwoo would always complain with his forehead on your shoulder as you worked away on your desk. He would complain that it’s already late and you should be snuggled to him by then and you would just scratch the back of his neck to placate him. To which, he didn’t like. He didn’t stop until you shut down your laptop and let him pull you to bed. 

Wonwoo diligently went back and forth to his hometown and here. He could go back and work at his Kingdom, but not without you. He made it clear that he has every intention of marrying you, so until then, he’d stay by your side. You love every single bit of time you spent with him and you’re beyond grateful. Although there was one instance you had to take care of him because he got sick, that didn’t make him stop. 

The two of you went to a lot of dates despite the busy and overlapping schedules. Most of your dates consisted of long drives far from the city. You frequent farms, beachsides and small hidden cafes with little to none customers. It was great and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

It’s Wonwoo, after all. 

Eventually, you had to visit his parents and introduce yourself in a whole new and different perspective. It was nerve wracking, but their Majesties never changed. In fact, almost everyone at their Kingdom still treated and served you like royalty to which you vehemently refused. Nonetheless, their Majesties still gave their utmost blessing and support to your relationship and if anything, they hope to see you get married soon. 

Wonwoo requested to meet your father at some point. At first, you were confused as to why but when he told you that he wanted to do things right, you couldn’t say no. 

You had to admit, you were embarrassed. However, you swallowed your pride because it’s pointless to keep concealing yourself from Wonwoo. He has accepted and loved you in every way and every form already, all you have to do is bare yourself to him. 

The meeting and conversation you shared with your father was short-lived because of the time limit. In spite of that, it was good to see him and you’re happy Wonwoo took the initiative to visit him. It has already been two years since he got imprisoned and even though you couldn’t visit him every day, your father never held it against you. He was ecstatic to see Wonwoo and the news of your wedding still on, made him burst into a joyful laughter. 

It still pained you to see him on the other side of the glass. It still pained you to not hug or touch his hand at least. But you keep yourself together and remember the purpose as to why your father had to go through this. 

Your father never failed to tell you his regrets and apologies, but most importantly, he never failed to tell you how proud he is and that he loves you very much so. 

You will never become a queen anymore, but Wonwoo vowed that you will be of his heart. He found it cringey himself, but he told you he had to say it in front of everyone present at your wedding. You just laughed it off because you know he’s not saying it out of spite. 

The wedding happened at his mother’s garden with only close family and friends invited. Your father couldn’t make it even if he wanted to, but it was alright because you promised you’ll send lots of pictures afterwards. Some of your relatives made it, Jeongyeon and Seungkwan were also there. Meanwhile, all of Wonwoo’s relatives made it and of course his best friends Soonyoung, Jihoon and Jun (whom you met along the way) were also present. 

It was a short ceremony that didn’t last more than three hours. It started late in the morning and ended early in the afternoon. The two of you, hand in hand and all smiles, did your best to mingle with every guest and thank them for their time and attendance after finally sealing everything with a long kiss and of course, legal documents.

There was no afterparty held after lunch was served, you and Wonwoo wanting the rest of the day to yourselves. A traditional program sounded lovely, but the two of you wanted to be simple. 

The wedding was three years long in the making and in between, it almost didn’t happen. The beginning was vague because it started off as an arranged union. You didn’t know him, he didn’t know you. The middle was everything you wanted, full of love and security. You were so sure and so ready, just waiting for the dress and everything was set. However before the happy ending, shortcomings and bad deeds needed to be resolved and by doing so, one of you almost had to sacrifice the middle that you were ready to have forever. 

But when Wonwoo buried his face in the space between your jaw and neck and his arms found its way around your waist, you realized that everything that had to happen was worth it. In the middle of the garden where the two of you stood alone, swaying from side to side, you realized and accepted that it was all worth it. 

Your fingers ran through the hairs of your husband’s hair and he hummed at the sensation. You smiled at the vibration and continued holding him. If you were to tell one of the sentiments that you and Wonwoo share when you’re together, it’s that you wish for everything to never end. And now that you’re married, it is not far-fetched. 

“I love you, Wonwoo,” you whispered and you’re not crying anymore. 

Wonwoo pulls away slightly to look at your face and when he sees your smile, he knows that he loves you too.

a/n 2: all my love, the drabble/oneshot series masterlist is up! 🧡

[dolliedarlin]

i m p l i c i t  ⏤katsuki b.

p a i r i n g : bakugou x f.reader 

s u m m a r y : ever since you were young, you were forced to meet with the person dubbed as your finance, Katsuki Bakugou, a Baron’s son who had quite the temper but peaks your interest in every way possible 

l e n g t h : 1.9k

g e n r e : olden days au ; fantasy au ; arranged marriage au ; Bakugou is a tsundere ; and we love him for it ; reader is an amazing bean that can keep up with him ; kirishima is your brother ; best brother ever ; rumours are toxic ; never base your opinions on someone solely on rumours ; you attract a stalker ; it’s not your fault ; he just as a twisted yandere mind ; Katsuki is your hero ; he makes your heart flutter ; and he makes your knees weak ; i really want someone to protect me and say what he said at the end of this 

w a r n i n g s : swearing from our lovable explosion murder king ; acts of stalker/yandere ; sword fighting

a / n : i didn’t plan on posting this but mother nature decided to pay me a visit today so i basically lazed around in my bed groaning in pain and half starving bc it was too painful to get out at times for food. instead i started writing this imagine again that i had began months ago. this is inspired by Ranma 1/2, which is an anime that i loved watching when i was much younger, it’s not well edited because i’m kinda dizzy rn but i hope you enjoy it! 

— first of all, before either you or Katsuki were born, the arrangement for your marriage to each other was already settled by your parents, hence why you were immediately introduced when you were children 

— neither of you knew what marriage or engagement meant but you both associated it with seeing each other

— it wasn’t something Katsuki liked but you didn’t quite mind it, he always gave you really interesting reactions that you quickly came to like

— as the two of you grew up together, you always tried your best to get close to him but Katsuki was adamant at pushing you away and keeping you at arms length at all times

— despite all that, you wanted to catch his attention, which meant that you took interest in all the things that he found interesting too. that included: sword fighting, horse riding, duelling ; spicy foods ; battle tactics ; magic etc 

— Katsuki always tried to ignore you but secretly appreciated how skilled you had become over the years. you were still nothing compared to him but you were able to battle against a majority of qualified knights and still be the last one standing

— he only scoffed at you because your talents were wasted; you’re too kindhearted to ever use your honed skills properly - it irritates him that other women push you to conform to etiquette, tea parties and high society when you were better than that

— you’re better than shallow conversations about the latest fashion, or the art of sipping tea, calligraphy and painting because he knows how much you train and how much effort you put into your education outside of such insignificant things

— Katsuki knows that you can handle yourself better than any other nobleman he knows of, he’s seen you help your father with his business and vigorously train with your dukedom’s knights

— what’s the point of all that effort if you weren’t going to show anything for it?

— because of that Katsuki always acted like he hated having you as his fiancée despite your optimism about him, as well as your patience and understanding of his unique way of expressing himself

— because the two of you are forced to spend a lot of time together by your parents, you’ve has been able to understand Katsuki and his mannerisms better than anyone else as your mother has always taught you to be openminded - she’s never been like the other noble ladies of society, hence why your father married her

— now, you were following in her footsteps. there’s been much gossip about your unladylike behaviour but you didn’t care, all you needed were your parents’ love and the love of Katsuki. he still needed some more time to come around but you’re positive you’ll get to him soon enough

— you’re positive there’s a different gleam in his eyes whenever he looks towards you now. it had always been one of hatred when you were much younger but his expressions frequently soften around you nowadays. 

— no matter how subtle it may be, you always notice

— many rumours circulated about you the first time you had shown your skills openly amongst the knighthood. it had first started with your knights who praised you highly but, as soon as those whisperings reached outside the dukedom, many noble ladies started to gossip about your misdemeanour. 

— surprisingly, those rumours were shut down in under a week and you didn’t know why; usually such good gossip material stayed for months and only faded with the years so it was peculiar to have it die down so quickly 

— what was suspicious was that, as soon as your rumours died down, stories about Katsuki surged forward.

— when you conversed with other people, they would say how horrible they feel for you having to marry such an aggressive and dislikable fiancee. they would then over-exaggerate all the belligerent and misunderstood characteristics of Bakugou, even making up disgusting rumours that painted him to be more villainous than he actually was.

— “how shameful,” you spat with disgust, glowering down at the noble ladies frozen in their seats, “how dare you openly gossip about my fiancee right in front of me, the nerve! you should know better than to act like such children. if you have nothing better to do then i suggest you leave the kirishima estate immediately and never expect to be invited back,” 

— they tried to beg you for forgiveness, seeing as your father held such power in high society, being one of the four noble dukes of the kingdom serving directly under the king as they all had noble blood. 

— nobody expected your father to marry you to a Baron’s son. Katsuki didn’t have a higher title than you but your fathers had gone to war together and remained loyal friends ever since, Baron Bakugou went on to acquire his title of Braon after his service in the war but many people still looked down on him from his commoner origins. to think that such educated ladies of high society would use that as leverage to gossip however they wished. 

— word of your actions on behalf of Bakugou spread quickly and the two of you became a couple that shouldn’t be trifled with.   

— after that day, you always defend Katsuki and never miss the opportunity to express how much you admire him and care for him even if he doesn’t tend to reciprocate it

— you do this when Katsuki’s friends make an appearance, they consisted of your brother, Eijiro, Denki of house Kaminari (son of Marquis Kaminari) and Hanta of house Sero (son of Marquis Sero). 

— they usually don’t visit the estate but this time they decided to utilise the knights training grounds for extra duelling practice and happened to catch you just as you were walking out, having finished your own training

— as soon as introductions and polite greetings were exchanged, came the jokes and jives.

— “I wouldn’t blame you if you eloped with someone else on your wedding day, Lady (Y/N), knowing this guy’s attitude,” Denki snickers as he points his thumb at your fiancé, who growled lowly in return.

— “i wouldn’t dare do something like that because, even if this is an arranged marriage, Katsuki will be the only man for me” Katsuki didn’t expect you to be so forward and couldn’t help the blush that coated his cheeks from your response 

— Denki whistled in a mix of astonishment and amusement, “Katsuki’s a lucky guy!” 

— “he looks really happy to hear you say that too, sis,” Eijiro teased as Hanta grinned from beside him. 

— “shut up! we came here to train so let's train already, you dumbasses!”

— the days go by and life is good; the quicker your wedding day approaches the kinder and gentler Katsuki treats you. it wasn’t until the kindness you practiced with everyone you met, no matter their status, became something more in the twisted mind of an unknown individual that you encountered within city streets, while out shopping

— one act of kindness made the stranger crave for your touch and sought you out in the most deviant method. he sent constant letters multiple times a day and even mailed one with his most intimate item of clothing, not only that but he always stood at the gates of your estate, waiting for it to be opened just to slip in and try to meet you again

— of course, he didn’t get far because of the security brought on by your dukedom’s talented knights stopped him at every devious attempt. each incident was reported directly to your brother, who was training to inherit the duchy as soon as your father retired

— Eijiro was having none of it and devised the best plan of action he could, knowing that his image as the heir of the dukedom needed to be thought of so that his people wouldn’t be against him when he took over his capable father’s place. he resisted the urge for an immediate confrontation to plan with you, about how you wanted to defuse the situation 

— however, as soon as word got to Bakugou, he ran over on foot to confront the man at your estate, just as Eijiro came down with a squadron of knights and you at his side

— lost in his own world, your stalker immediately reached out for you the instant he caught sight of your figure. on his face, he had a twisted smile and manic eyes, his breathing became heavy as if to savour the same air you breathed not too far away from him. it was frighting and chilling to see such an unhinged man. he was so deranged, he didn’t mind the swords and pointed glares directed at him by all that were present and Katsuki, who was fast approaching from behind

— “Get. Away. From. Her!” Katsuki shouted in anger as he drew his sword and slashed at the young man, making you jump back with a gasp.

— “Bakugou!” Kirishima warned as he pulled you into his chest for protection from the clashing of swords

— “Katsuki, be careful!” you cried. confronting someone with such an unstable mind could go horribly wrong and no matter how skilled your fiancee was, you couldn’t help but worry

— Even though this was the first time Katsuki ever showed his feelings for you in such a dramatic gesture, the worry you had for him consumed your joy as his opponent drew out his own sword and started lashing out with worse coordination than your junior knights. 

— what he lacked with technique, however, he made up for in agility as well as his own unpredictability. it made it hard for Katsuki to predict the path of his opponent’s sword so for a time, he was constantly dodging his blade. it didn’t take long, however, for the game of endurance and stamina to come into play and slow down his opponent enough for him to fight back with more accuracy.

— “you revolting rat!” Katsuki growled swinging his sword with might only to grind his teeth when his sword is narrowly dodged. not one to give up, however, he goes in once again and finally lands a hit that forces your stalker to crumble to his knees, “you try and pull that shit with (Y/N) again and I’ll be doing more than just beating you to the ground,” it was an obvious win for the blonde. 

— “And what would that be?” your stalker still had fight in him that came off as more irritating than anything else Bakugou had ever encountered in his life of servitude as a royal knight and baron’s son.

— just to prove his point, whatever it may be, Katsuki goes to stand beside you and pull you into his chest with his large hand at your waist   

— “landing your ugly, disgusting ass in a fucking coffin!” the venom in his voice was evident and it made you shudder, curling up into his chest for comfort, not knowing that the next words he’d shout would have your knees weaker than any training could ever do, “(Y/N) is MY Fiancee! you touch her and I’ll kill you!”

n a v i . | bnha mlist 

[hxlyhead-harpies]

Ivy (R.L.)

Evermore

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: The reader is trapped in a loveless and neglectful arranged marriage. She hires her old school crush, Remus Lupin, to tutor her son

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of abuse, the reader is a mother, cheating, angst

Word Count: 4.9k

A/n: i am actually so so proud of this so um i hope you like it

Your life was nothing but a monotonous cycle of sameness, every day identical to the one before. Every day you awoke to a cold and empty bed, your silk sheets barren of who should be a loving husband. And every day you sat by your bay window with a cup of tea, leaving it unsipped until it became cold. You watched your son stumble around the manor, his tiny legs still clumsy like a newborn foal. You painted or read to bide your time, hoping to make the long hours go faster, but they never did. Nearly six years of this routine but no part of you longed to break free from it. 

You had been bred for this life since you had sprung into existence. You came from a prominent pureblood family and you were taught your place early on. You were to be silent and polite and you must not speak unless spoken to. It didn’t matter your intelligence or wit, you were nothing but a commodity with good posture and acceptable table manners. You were a pawn in your father’s chess game, something to be used for business deals and backdoor dealings. Your existence was for the purpose of your father’s advancement in pureblood society and nothing more. 

For a while you had wanted more, to be free and to have agency and choice. Back when you were in school you were exposed to ideas beyond blood supremacy and submission. You let yourself dream of a life away from your family and their ideals, where you could have your own free thought and you could love whom you chose, but the fantasy didn’t last much longer than your third year. 

When you had dared to voice your opinions one day during the summer holiday you were swiftly met with the back of your father’s hand. Your life quickly began to consist of long sleeve jumpers to conceal bruises and nights where your supper was withheld. You quickly resigned to the life you had always been told you’d have. 

You thought about running away and starting a new life away from the toxicity that oozed from the windows of your childhood home. But you were often reminded of what happened to daughters who disobeyed; you’d be subjected to a life of destitution.

So you did as you were told, obliging to the word of your father and keeping your head down. Of course, you still held your own ideas close to your heart; you didn’t believe in the sickening rhetoric that was blood supremacy, but you couldn’t tell anyone that for the sake of your safety. 

You were seventeen when you had gotten betrothed to Humphrey. It was your seventh year at Hogwarts and you had gotten a letter in mid-march informing you of your own engagement. He was your father’s business partner and eleven years your senior. He was cold and serious. Something about the way he had a perpetually raised brow and a scowl made your stomach drop. You had cried yourself to sleep that night, any remnants of your fantasy finally shattering in the clutches of your fiance. 

And now here you sat, six years later, your cup of tea cooling in your hands as your son asked questions you didn’t know the answer to. Every young wizard went through this phase, wondering why the lights would flicker when they were angry or why sometimes they could do things that they didn’t understand. Your son knew that he was a wizard, but his young mind couldn’t quite grasp what that meant. When you were his age, you had a governess who explained these things to you as well as taught you other things like basic arithmetic and history. You desperately wished that you could find someone, maybe a tutor, who could teach your son. 

Your child, Montgomery, was inquisitive and wild. He was named after his great uncle but detested the name, preferring to be playfully called Monty instead. He was born to be the picture of a perfect pureblood son, but he was wild and untamed no matter how hard you tried. You were afraid of how his father would treat him as he grew, and you were desperate to temper him.

That night at dinner you sat at the head of the table, Monty next to you, and your husband at the other end. It often felt as if there was an impossible distance between the two of you, a distance that could never be crossed. You rarely truly felt like his wife, usually only feeling like an employee in your own home. You poked at your meal for a while, chiding your son to eat his vegetables. In the darkness that shrouded your home, Monty was your only source of light. If you were to go on like this it would be for him. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to raise the question. 

“Would it be alright if we hired a tutor for Monty?” you asked, “I had one when I was his age and I just think that it would be the proper thing to do.” Humphrey sighed and placed down his spoon, it clanking harshly against the rim of his bowl.

“Montgomery,” he corrected harshly. You swallowed thickly and nodded, avoiding his gaze. “And I suppose it would be a good idea,” he said, “We want him to be top of his class when he arrives at Hogwarts.” You nodded quickly, knowing that agreeing with him was the fastest way to get what you wanted. Humphrey thought for a moment before resuming his dinner. 

“You can pick out his tutor, just inform me when his lessons have started,” he said before going back to ignoring your presence. A sense of pride filled you at his words; it was rare you ever had a say in any of the decisions made around the house and the prospect of having a voice sent a shock of happiness down your spine. This single act of agency was not real freedom, but you would revel in pretending that it was. 

You sifted through ads in the Prophet and inquired with other mothers. You were hesitant to call them your friends as they held the same ideals as your husband, but they were the women you’d be forced to have tea with during business meetings. None of the names that came up seemed quite right. As a last resort, you sent an owl to your old professor, Professor McGonagall. She had been your favorite teacher back at school and you still kept in touch occasionally. When you were a teenager McGonagall tried relentlessly to help you see your potential, but you just brushed her off, knowing that you’d never be allowed to have a career once you were married. 

McGonagall’s response was swift, an owl knocking on the library window only a few hours later. 

The letter opened with her usual greeting, her insistence that you call her Minerva and not Professor. She offered up a name that made you pause. 

Remus Lupin. You could understand why she would suggest this name. He had been top of your class in school and a prefect. He had even tutored you once and had proven himself to be quite the teacher. You knew he was more than capable but his name still caused you to pause.

You had been absolutely infatuated with Remus when you were an awkward sixteen year old. He was handsome and smart and he was nothing short of gentle when he spent late nights in the library trying to teach you astronomy. Something about his hazel eyes and boyish smile had made your heart pound in your ears and your palms sweaty. But you never let yourself dwell on your feelings too much; you knew you’d be married shortly after you graduated and your father would not take too kindly to you dating anyone, especially a halfblood. So you had pushed the feelings aside and forced yourself to forget. Yet here you were, years later, and the shape of his name still caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. 

You wanted so desperately to write back to Minerva and ask for his address, to send him a letter requesting his services, and to let him into your home. But you were afraid of what would happen if you did. You had spent so long trying to push away the stirrings in the back of your mind and ignore any inkling of restlessness. You feared that welcoming this man into your house would only ignite these feelings to a point where you couldn’t avoid them anymore.

But still, Monty needed a tutor and you knew that Remus Lupin was a damn good one. You sent an owl to Minerva asking how to contact him. 

The first day the Remus was meant to come to your house you were a ball of nerves. Monty was excited, yearning to learn and to meet this new person. But you were anxious about seeing him after all these years. You couldn’t be sure that he even remembered you. His time tutoring you had been brief, though you held that short time together close to your heart. 

You found yourself putting on your favorite clothes, feeling desperate to put up a good front, hoping the clothes would mask your unhappiness. The cream shirt and long navy shirt helped you play the role of a doting wife well, just old fashioned enough to make most believe that you agreed with this life. You tied back your hair with a silk ribbon before heading down to the front hall. You had nothing better to do than wait for him.

A heavy knock finally filled the empty halls of your home signaling you to his arrival. You called out for Monty before you walked to the door and opened it gently. 

You shyly looked around the edge of the door, meeting his eyes. It took everything in you to suppress some sort of physical reaction as you took in his appearance. The years had surely treated him well. His hair was longer now, curlier too, and his freckled skin adorned a few new scars. It was snowing lightly outside and snowflakes sat in his bronze curls. But his hazel eyes still shone at you warmly, and his small smile was familiar and dimpled. He looked older of course, slightly taller and with broader shoulders. He was wearing a beige shirt and a dark tie, a satchel slung over his shoulder, and a stack of books under his arm. 

You opened the door wider to allow him inside. “Hello, Mr. Lupin, I’m so glad you could make it,” you said softly, sticking out your hand. He quirked up an eyebrow and adjusted the books before reaching out his hand. His hands were cold and calloused as he placed his hand in yours, the contact sending a wave of warmth through your body. 

“You can call me Remus,” he said with an amused smile, “No need for the formality, it’s not like we haven’t met before.” You laughed softly at his comment, reluctantly pulling your hand away. 

“Of course, I wasn’t sure if you remembered,” you admitted, “May I take your coat?” Remus chuckled before shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. 

“How could I forget, charms was it?” he asked. You flushed at his comment but hid it by turning to place his coat in the closet on your right. 

“Astronomy,” you corrected. He hummed affirmatively before rocking back and forth on his heels. You composed yourself quickly before you turned back to him. “Let me show you the library,” you said finally. 

The two of you walked down the hall in silence as you made your way to the room you spent most of your time in. You heard him gasp as you pushed open the mahogany doors. The room was magnificent; books lining every wall from floor to ceiling. Your precious bay window let in natural light and the plush carpet muddled your steps as you walked in. There was a table by the window which you had designated for Remus’s lessons. You had placed some books, quills and parchment, and a globe on the surface. 

Remus’s mouth was wide as he took in the room. You shuffled awkwardly towards the table and his eyes finally landed on it. 

“I wasn’t sure what you needed so I just found a few things,” you said, gesturing to the makeshift desk. He gave you that lopsided smile again and your stomach erupted with butterflies. 

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he said. You felt yourself smile widely as you wrung your hands. Since you had gotten married it was rare that you received a compliment. Even as small and insignificant as his words were, you felt the warm caress of approval anyway.

Before you could say anything else Monty tumbled into the room. His shirt was rumpled and messy, half of it untucked. His hair was wild and his cheeks were red. It was clear that he had gotten into some sort of mischief before heading to the library. He barreled towards you and hugged your legs. 

“Hello dear,” you said affectionately, unable to contain the smile on your face as you smoothed down his hair. 

“Mum you will not believe what I found in the garden,” he said breathily, a gleam in his eye. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“You’ll have to tell me later, Mr. Lupin is here,” you said, nodding towards the man. Monty turned towards his tutor and smiled shyly, hiding behind your legs slightly. It was rare that he met new people as he spent most of his days cooped up at home. Remus didn’t seem phased by his shyness, only stepping closer and bending down slightly.

“Hi, Montgomery is it?” he asked softly, offering his hand for Monty to shake. He shook his head furiously before putting his tiny hand in Remus’s.

“My name is Monty,” he said proudly, giving Remus a firm handshake. Remus smiled brilliantly. 

“Okay Monty, you can call me Remus,” he replied. Monty slowly detached himself from your legs, heading towards the table with Remus. He smiled as he hopped up on his chair and spun the globe. You smiled as you watched them interact, Remus ever so gentle and warm. 

“Do you mind if I stay?” you asked suddenly. Remus looked up with raised eyebrows. “I’ll be quiet,” you promised, “I’ll just be reading.” You gestured towards the spot where you usually read. Remus smiled and nodded. You made yourself comfortable and opened your book. But you couldn’t quite focus on the words, your attention captivated only by Remus. 

That night you laid awake next to Humphrey, unable to sleep. Your mind was busy replaying every moment that Remus had been in your house. How enthusiastic he was about teaching and how tenderly he’d answer Monty’s questions. You thought of how he’d look over Monty’s head and give you a goofy smile when Monty would innocently ask a funny question and how he gave you a lingering handshake when he had left. 

Watching Remus teach became how you passed your hours away. You finally indulged yourself and wondered what it would be like if he felt the same as you. You often found yourself imagining a life where you ran away together, stealing Monty away from the virulent environment of your life. You imagined that you’d move to the city, somewhere near the friends he spoke of so fondly, or away to the countryside in a small cottage. Of course, the fantasy was dashed every time he left and you were once again left in your solitude, waiting for your husband to come home and ignore you as usual. You grieved for the relationship that could never be and the life you could never have.

You felt trapped, a feeling you had been trying to suppress for years. But you were married, a binding and final contract, so there was nothing for you to do. It was as if you were a Rapunzel, waiting in her tower. Only your prince never came to save you. Instead, he was your captor and key keeper. 

Your favorite part of your day soon became the stolen minutes before lessons began and the fleeting seconds after they ended. That was when you could be alone with Remus, learning more about him through menial questions in the name of small talk. He was just as sarcastic and full of wit as you remembered, though there was a certain level of softness that hadn’t been present before. 

Every day, as he left you, shook hands, a task that was most likely no longer necessary, but you loved the feeling of your hand in his. Every time your palms touched you wished that he was taking your hand because he wanted to, not just as a formality. 

Remus’s mere existence consumed you, leaving you yearning for every inch of his mind and soul. Your thoughts were full of his smile and his beautiful eyes. You dreamed of running your hands through his hair and resting your head on his chest. You felt yourself falling in love with him slowly and it terrified you. But there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was as if he had planted himself in your mind, the vines of his ivy covering you completely, overrunning your mind, body, and soul. 

About a month into his teaching you arranged a meeting to discuss Monty’s progress. Remus had readily agreed and he appeared at your doorstep promptly. Humphrey was supposed to attend the meeting but he had been pulled away on business. Or at least that was what he told you. Often times when he was away for work he’d come home smelling of another woman. 

You sat in your husband’s office, just you and Remus. The lighting was dim and your breath was quickly becoming bated because suddenly, you weren’t so sure if you had been imagining the tension between the two of you. He fidgeted in the seat across from you, staring at you with those alluring hazel eyes. They were the type of hazel right between green and brown, the perfect sweet spot that made them appear almost yellow. You looked away quickly and cleared your throat. 

“So how is Monty doing?” you asked, placing your hands neatly in your lap. Remus smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

“He’s doing wonderful,” Remus said proudly, “He’s quite inquisitive. He wants to know everything about everything.” You let out a breathy laugh and nodded.

“Yes, he used to bombard me with questions before you started teaching him,” you admitted, “I couldn’t answer half of them.” Remus laughed this time and shifted in his seat, leaning slightly further over the desk.

“I’m sure you had no problem answering. I was honestly surprised when you sent me the letter, I would have assumed that you were teaching him yourself,” he said, “You were always so smart back in school.” You flushed and shook your head. 

“Do you not remember how you had to save me from failing astronomy,” you answered teasingly, the banter between you flowing easily. Remus pulled back and raised an eyebrow at you. 

“If I remember correctly, it never seemed like you needed much help,” he said. You felt your face heat up. In all honesty, you hadn’t needed help with astronomy. You had just wanted to be close to Remus and that was the only way you had known how. 

“No, I needed the help,” you chided, “You just happened to be an excellent teacher.” Remus met your praise with that boyish smile you had fallen for. The two of you fell into easy conversation after that, forgetting your purpose for the meeting in the first place. You knew that you were entering dangerous territory but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

That night as he left you walked him to the door. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” you said softly, a hint of a joke behind your eyes. Remus nodded with a smile, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Of course,” he said softly, “Goodnight.” His eyes were rounded and earnest, sending the beating of your heart into overdrive. As he turned to leave you found yourself grabbing his sleeve and turning him around. You were unsure of what your intention was but suddenly he was standing so close, his eyes roaming your face and your breath mixing with his. The two of you stood like that for a moment, staring at each other. Finally, you pulled back slightly, diffusing the tension.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, your voice slightly hoarse. Remus swallowed thickly, before nodding and leaving quickly. 

The next time he came over for a session the two of you acted as if nothing happened. You hoped that this was because you were under the watchful eye of your husband and not because he didn’t return your affections. You worried the entire time that you observed the lesson, chewing at the inside of your cheek. He didn’t even spare you a glance the entire lesson.

Once he and Monty were done you walked him to the door, as usual, dread settling in your stomach. You worried that you had ruined everything. But when you reached the door and slipped your hand in his for your usual handshake, he surprised you by lifting your hand up and pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

Your life soon became waiting for stolen moments with Remus. Tentatively tangling fingers in a hallway before Monty rumbled down the stairs. There was so much you learned about him, but you could tell there was something he was holding back. There was an ever-present sadness in his eyes that made your heart break. He seemed cursed, as if there was something dark lurking underneath the surface. But he never shared too much with you. 

You scheduled your next meeting several weeks later and you waited for it impatiently, longing for moments alone with the man whom you loved. But unfortunately, luck was not on your side. Humphrey, who was supposed to be busy, had decided to join you. So he sat in the big chair while you stood behind him, your head down and your hands clasped behind your back. 

Remus sat uncomfortably in his chair, sneaking glances at you when your husband wasn’t looking. You were aware of how submissive and deferential you must have looked. You had never wanted Remus to see you like this, to see how truly trapped you were. You were afraid he’d pull away and realize that loving you was futile as you had no way to escape the shackles of your marriage. You longed to look into those hazel eyes and pretend that everything would be alright. But instead, your husband placed a rough hand on your arm and told you that it was time for the men to talk. 

You sat in the library and worried, afraid that Humphrey had somehow found out and was trying to confront Remus. But truly, what was there to find out? All there had been were lingering gazes and grazing touches of hands. You hadn’t dared to kiss him or even make it known how you felt. 

But when the meeting was over you watched Humphrey give Remus a cordial handshake and thank him for his services. Remus glanced at you for a split second, but his gaze quickly moved past you as if you weren’t even there. 

You feared that everything had been ruined. That he’d realize that you were too broken and too chained to be loved. But the next moment you had alone with him, he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, the most contact the two of you had ever shared.

“He can’t treat you like that,” he murmured into your hair. You let out a shaky breath, holding back tears, and pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. 

“He’s my husband, that’s how it’s supposed to be,” you replied. Remus pulled back and cupped your face. 

“No, it’s not. You deserve to be loved, not manhandled,” he said, his voice filled with a soft determination. You smiled sadly at him. 

“That’s how it’s supposed to be for women like me,” you said softly. Remus leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours.

“He’s not worthy of you,” he whispered. You closed your eyes and sighed. 

“I don’t have a choice. I never did,” you murmured. 

Tentatively, Remus pressed his lips against yours. The kiss started out soft, his chapped lips moving gently against yours. Your mind was spinning and your legs went weak, this moment feeling like a dream. The way his hand was in your hair, cradling your head, and the way your body was flushed against his felt like something out of a fantasy. But soon, the kiss became more heated and more desperate, Remus’s lips pressed harshly against your mouth. When he finally pulled away you were breathless and dizzy, wishing that you could grab him by the collar and pull him back down. 

“You always have a choice,” he said, his voice gravelly as he whispered in your ear. And with that, he detached himself from your embrace and entered the library. 

As winter slowly turned to spring you spent every waking moment thinking of Remus and how you wished you could be with him instead. Your secret meetings became more frequent, filled with desperate kisses and unspoken confessions. The words often burned at the back of your throat, begging to escape and profess your feelings. You desperately wanted to tell him that you were irrevocably in love with him and you longed to know if he felt the same. But you knew that once those words spilled from your lips you could never take them back and things could never stay the same. But suddenly, you wished that things would finally change. 

You were often kept up at night with the fear that Humphrey would find out. That he’d catch a quick kiss in a darkened hallway or finally notice how Remus’s eyes lingered on you. You knew that if he found out you’d be on the receiving end of some unspeakable punishment. But you feared not only for your safety but the safety of your love as well. Humphrey was a scary man when he was angry, and you dreaded what your husband would do to Remus. 

On a brisk spring night, you sat in the study with Remus, an open bottle of wine on the desk. Humphrey was away on business so you took it upon yourself to schedule another “meeting” with Remus. He now sat at the desk and you stood between his legs, a bright smile stretched across your face. You sipped from your glass, reveling in the taste. It was an expensive bottle that Humphrey had imported from France and you knew that you weren’t supposed to drink it. 

Remus’s hand was settled on your hip as you talked, your faces so close that your lips almost touched as you spoke. You longed for moments like these, where you could bask in his affections unashamedly, without fearing getting caught. 

He brushed a stray hand of hair from your face and you suddenly became more somber, desperately staring into his eyes, your lip trembling slightly. His eyes furrowed as he sensed your mood change. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. 

“Take me away from this place,” you pleaded, “Please.” Remus let out a trembling breath, his expression falling into one similar to yours. 

“You know that I can’t,” he whispered. You shook your head frantically, clutching the front of his shirt in your fists. 

“Yes, you can,” you said, “You, me, and Monty, we can all run away together.” Remus shook his head and looked away.

”No, we can’t,” he breathed. You felt tears pool in your eyes as you tried to convince him.

“Yes, we can! Monty adores you and I-” you took a deep breath, “and I love you.” You looked at him defiantly and unflinching, never surer of any statement in your life. Remus froze and stared at you, his mouth agape. 

“You don’t love me, you can’t,” he replied. 

“I do Remus,” you said softly, your grip on his clothes loosening. 

“You can’t. I’m poor and I’m-” he paused, seemingly trying to gather his words. “I’m ill,” he finally settled upon, “I can’t take care of you.” You cupped his cheek and shook your head. 

“I don’t care about any of that,” you whispered, “And you’d take far better care of me than he does. You already do.” Remus sighed before pressing a burning kiss to your lips. 

“When does Humphrey get back?” he asked as he pulled back. 

“Two days,” you answered. Remus closed his eyes, mulling something over. He finally leaned over, kissing your forehead lightly before speaking. 

“Go pack your bags,” he whispered. You smiled at him before turning to leave the room, ready to grab your and Monty’s essentials. But before you could leave he grabbed your sleeve, spinning you around to face him. Your faces were so close you could feel his breath fan across your face. 

“I love you,” he murmured softly. You simply smiled before grabbing your bags and gently waking Monty, preparing to break out of the tower that confined you. Ready to live the life you had always wanted with the man that you loved.

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