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shreddedparchment · 3 years

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A Wife for Thor Pt.24

What She’s Done

05/19/2021

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

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

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

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

REBLOGS are always welcome!

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

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

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

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

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

Inside, two more regular guards stand at attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t answer him. You simply stare.

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

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

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

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

“Right. Seven and four.”

“Your Majesty…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gods, he’s huge.

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

“Blew me off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you happy, my cherub?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Kay,” you smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Didn’t think I was really pregnant?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, for understanding,” you shrug.

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

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

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

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

“Loki!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Most of your plants have been well taken care of.

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

His consideration brings a smile to your lips.

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

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

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

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

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

“Your Majesty?” Estrid hurries forward.

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

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

“Shall I fetch the doctors?”

“No, really. I’m fine, Estrid.”

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

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

“Your Majesty!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~~~~

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

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

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

No movement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did something happen?

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

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

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

“What is it, Estrid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“-can’t help it. I love you. I-”

The absolute fury that engulfs you is indescribable.

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

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

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

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

“Jane?”

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

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

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

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

“We don’t want you here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Loki?”

He turns to you, waiting.

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

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

“I-” Thor begins.

“Don’t!”

He shuts his mouth.

“Not here.”

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

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

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

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

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

You get up and point at the large doors.

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

“Cherub-”

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

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

“Y/N, please, I-”

“GET OUT!”

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

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

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

This is why you can only depend on yourself.

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

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

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expectingtofly · 3 years

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finally free, they drive

day 1 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: diners/roadtrip

Twenty-four years ago in Mankato, Minnesota, Dean killed a wendigo with a bottle of Jack and a lighter. He told Cas this, how the flames lit the inside of the cave and his dad had to drag him out because he suddenly couldn’t move, how he stayed silent for a week even though his dad begged him to speak.

Seventeen years ago, in Monte Vista, Colorado, Dean burned the bones of a malevolent spirit that sliced a gash through his chest before he could swing an iron crowbar through her foggy figure. As he and Cas passed by the cemetery where he and his dad had dug up her remains, he could almost picture himself standing between the tombstones, his dad tossing him the lighter. Do the honors.

In Evanston, Wyoming, he and Cas stopped to eat at a diner that looked vaguely familiar. As they sat down at a booth in the back, waitress handing them their menus, it hit him.

“Pretty sure Sam and I went through here before.” He couldn’t remember what they'd been hunting. “Years ago. After dad. You know. Passed.”

And Cas was silent a moment before replying, "I wish I’d known you then."

Then he declared he wanted the French onion soup from the specials of the day, like he hadn’t just spoken Dean's thoughts aloud in his uncanny way of knowing exactly what Dean wished for before Dean knew it himself.

Sometimes, while passing semi-trailer trucks on the freeway, when the setting sun glinted off the metal partition between west and east-headed traffic, he wondered what life would’ve been like if he knew Cas when he was twenty-six. When he was so lonely, his chest felt like a vise at night, and he slipped out of mildewed motel rooms to gasp in chilly night air. When he sought out crowded bars because accidental nudges and jostles were substitutes for caresses.

What might’ve changed if he'd known Cas when he was twenty-two, when Sam left for college and Dad left with a cutting, Don't look for me. If, confronted with an angel then, he would’ve been able to believe in good things, if he would've kissed him to not feel so alone.

The radio played Dolly Parton at a diner in Des Moines, a young couple sat at the counter, Cas stacked small containers of strawberry jelly and orange marmalade into a tower, and Dean imagined sitting across from him when he was nineteen. But then Cas looked up at him triumphantly over perfectly balanced preserves, and the what-if's dissolved in a growing warmth in his chest. Cas had been right after all. Good things did happen.

They drove without a destination now that they didn’t need one, changing course frequently, turning off exits to follow signs for roadside attractions, homestyle meals, and scenic overlooks.

Prairie and forest, coast and desert. He'd traveled these roads before, but he was paying attention now. Everything looked different with Cas sitting by his side, when every glance to his right revealed Cas already looking at him.

Re-heated diner leftovers and slices of pie for breakfast, crumbs on the bed, brown bags in the backseat, lunch breaks at rest stops, sitting on the hood to unwrap grease-stained burger wrappers, kept warm from the sun coming through the car’s windows.

Baby had been his home for years. He'd learned her nooks, her curves, how best to settle on the benchseat and tuck his jacket against the door to wake without a crick in his neck.

Moving into the bunker, he'd claimed a room, made a space for every item he owned: a hook for every weapon, a box for every photo, a hanger for every jacket. The concrete walls and sterile bathrooms meant order, control.

He used to be afraid that if he let one item fall out of place, he'd lose his grip on the delicate thread which held him together.

Crackling radio in Omaha, searching for a station. Cassette-tapes pulled out of a box that he hadn’t rifled through since a time when angels were still a myth, god didn’t exist, and death was always close, but not someone they knew by name. Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica. Then, out of Cas' pocket, his own “Top 13 Zepp Traxxs,” which he was surprised to learn Cas still kept, the words on the label faded.

“It was a gift,” Cas said, tucking the cassette into the deck and turning up the volume.

Busy diners where their food took ages to come to their table and Dean doodled on napkins to pass the time. Stuffed them into his pocket and forgot until he pulled them out while looking for change to pay for gas. A tiny Impala, a sun with dashes for rays, sigils, tiny flowers which Cas had added to the corners.

An argument on I-70 and sixty-two miles of tense silence. "If you don't speak to me, I can't understand," Cas said, voice quiet under the whir of tires on the road.

Dean changed lanes, watched a tarp flap over the bed of a pick-up truck. "I don't know how," he admitted.

Cas let out a breath that sounded like relief. "We'll learn."

He learned Cas liked brightly colored shirts labeled with the names of locations they visited, oversized because tight sleeves made him itch. He learned that the strangely named items on diner menus had backstories that owners behind counters were all too eager to share when Cas prompted them. He learned Cas hovered in doorways as if he was waiting to be invited inside, learned Cas knew every upbeat song playing over the radio in gas stations, had nightmares too, could stay silent for seventy miles then speak a thought aloud that left Dean stunned for seventy more.

He taught Cas how to pass the time on roads that stretched to the horizon. Name a movie for every letter of the alphabet. Name three items you'd take to a deserted island. Name everyone we've lost along the way—he didn't mean to begin talking about them, but they seemed closer than ever before on the open road, under a vast, cloudless sky. The wind whisked their names from their mouths, and Dean liked the idea of them still existing, here, around them.

A map open on his lap, Cas circled every town they stopped at, traced their route with a red pen. Folded and unfolded the page until the creases made the snaking lines nearly illegible. "I want to remember," he told Dean, and Dean traced the creases to feel their route under his finger. The steering wheel was warm under his palms, the diner floors sticky under his boots, the motel sheets stiff when he pulled them back from the headboard, and he told Cas, "Pinch me," in the dark of an eighty-dollar-a-night room. Cas touched his face and kissed him instead.

The rocky coast off of Oregon delighted Cas. He rolled up his pant legs, clutched Dean's hand as they walked unsteadily over the slippery rocks to step into the Pacific Ocean. The wind whipped his hair over his face and he pushed back the strands, grinning back at Dean. Sometimes at night, when Cas slept curled into him, Dean looked at the photo he'd taken of him and wished he had a place of their own to frame it.

Long phone calls to family and friends who told them to take their time, do not disturb signs hung on motel doorknobs, winding backroads and detours. He grew out his hair and told Cas he needed a cut. Cas twisted his fingers through the strands, and mused, "I like it." Dean kept it and noticed the strands curled at the ends.

A sign on the highway in Ohio read, "Hell is Real." He still had nightmares. As cornfields passed, Cas recounted seeing his soul for the first time, and sometimes Dean imagined he remembered the safety of Cas' wings as he pulled him out of the depths of Hades.

Cas got sick in Idaho, complained, voice echoing in the toilet bowl, "I told you that diner was not sanitary." Dean rubbed his back and told him he'd write a scathing review. In West Virginia, over a pile of spilled salt and stale fries that were probably nuked behind the counter, Cas told him he loved him. It wasn't for the first time, but his breath still caught in his throat.

They ate fried okra in Oklahoma City, beignets in New Orleans, and Dean requested Earth Angel on a jukebox in a vinyl and chrome diner in Wisconsin. Slid into the booth to press against Cas' side and watch him fill out postcards. Did you know dinosaurs once roamed where the Rockies now stand? Don't know when we'll be back. We bought new cassettes to add to the collection and I convinced Dean to let me choose the music. Still so much we haven't seen.

The magic fingers bed at the King's Court Motel cost four quarters for fifteen minutes—three more than when he was younger, he griped to Cas. The vibrating massage didn't seem quite as relaxing as he remembered, but maybe he was just used to more magical fingers—this he accompanied with an exaggerated wink which made Cas roll his eyes.

The Impala broke down on Route 66, and the asphalt radiated heat as he ducked under the hood. Cas hovered at his side and he realized he didn't have the tools to fix her.

They ate lunch at a mom-and-pop’s restaurant as they waited for the mechanic to finish, and Cas gave him the pickle from his sandwich. "I'm sorry I never asked you to stay," Dean told him and wished he'd said it earlier. "I never wanted you to leave."

Cas gave him a sad smile. "It's in the past." He tapped his foot against Dean's under the table, and Dean hooked his ankle with his foot.

Cas parted the curtains in every motel they slept in, tilted his face to the sun beaming through the windshield, urged Dean to stop for a cardboard sign reading Fresh Strawberries $2. Reruns of The Three Stooges made Dean laugh until he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, had to catch his breath. This happiness didn't seem so fragile, this time. When they turned on the TV tomorrow night three hundred miles away, The Three Stooges would play into the morning, and when he told Cas he loved him, Cas would say it back.

Crossing over rippling water or curving through wooded land, he and Cas spoke a cabin in the woods, a house on the coast, a home. Dean's head filled with the future instead of the past. Every mile that passed under their tires brought them closer to this dream—or so he thought, until he stopped at a red light, and Cas took his hand, and he realized home sat beside him now.

In a diner in Arkansas, Cas read from a menu, plastic corners curling, and commented, "No matter where we go, every place serves an iceberg wedge salad."

Dean replied, "I think I'm ready to stop driving."

He didn't know where they'd park the Impala for good, but he pictured somewhere with windows, patches of sunlight on the floor. The details didn't matter so much, though, not so long as he had Cas.

"For you to me are the only one," he sang over Robert Plant, glancing at Cas as he turned up the radio, wind whistling through the open windows, road humming under their feet. Happiness, no more be sad, happiness, I'm glad.

#j&kcreatorfest #rambleoncas #shelikestv #user-brooke #userdori #userstarry #tearsofgrace #destiel fic #just some fluff #bc i love the idea of dean and cas taking a long roadtrip after s15 #to bond and work thru stuff #<3 #established dean/cas #expectingtofly writes

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Wrong Bitch

Pairing: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Based on this imagine

Warnings: Petty Angel & reader, smut

Gif credit: @angels-reyes

“Didn’t I tell you that last time?”

“Nope, wrong bitch. Must’ve been one of your other girlfriends.” You lied, knowing full well Angel just told you last week he didn’t like you hanging out with Nestor or Miguel.

Angel inhaled a deep breath and clutched his fists. Ever since you left the bar you have been trying him and he didn’t know how long he could last. Your mouth kept running a mile a minute like he wouldn’t spank your ass raw.

“I don’t have time for this, Y/N. Just stay the fuck away from them!” Angel demanded as if he were king.

“Well, I have time today. You can’t tell me shit, I’m a grown ass woman. I do what I want whenever I want. So, if I wanna dance with my friend then damn it that’s what I’m gonna do.” Now you were in Angel’s space, your face close to his.

“Is that so?” Angel asked, leaning in closer to you.

“Yup.” You confidently said, crossing your arms and staring down at your annoyed boyfriend.

Excitement thrummed through you when you saw the flash of anger on Angel’s face. He was about to fuck you up and you were gonna enjoy every minute of it.

“Aight,” Angel simply said, going into the kitchen to get a beer.

“Aight?” You repeated, following him. That reaction was completely unexpected. You thought you would be bent over already.

Angel had to keep his smirk hidden, taking a sip of his beer. Maintaining his patience paid off and now you weren’t getting your way. A win-win situation.

“That’s all you got to say?”

Angel walked passed you in the doorway, his body close to yours that you could smell the beer on his lips. “Yeah. Remember you do whatever you want whenever you want, mami.”

Leaving you in shock, Angel went to go sit on the couch and watch tv. He pretended to laugh at the tv when he heard you grumbling and then plopping down on the far side of the couch.

Every so often Angel’s eyes would cut to you and he saw the same thing every time. Your arms, knees tucked into yourself, the same pout while you cuss him out under your breath. If it wasn’t so funny, he would’ve been fixed your attitude.

Missing touching you, Angel grabbed your ankle to massage your foot and scoot you closer to him, but you were resistant to it. “No, Angel. Leave me alone.”

“C’mon, you love my massages.” Angel pulled your ankle once again.

This time you kicked your foot to break his hold, but instead you accidentally kicked him in the face prompting you to double over in laughter.

Angel was gonna blow it over, but then you had to just go ahead and laugh. Too busy with crying your eyes out, you didn’t notice Angel get up until you felt a sharp pain at the back of your head, and you were on your knees.

“You think that’s funny?” Angel was unbuckling his belt with one hand while the other still had a firm grip in your hair. He pulled his magnificent dick out, but you didn’t have time to adore it because he pushed your head to his crotch, forcing you to take him all in.

It all took you by surprise, but once you were able to calm down you could breathe normally and enjoy the heavy feel of Angel in your mouth.

Gentleness was not in the plans for tonight. Angel kept his hands tight on your head making sure you went nowhere as he repeatedly shoved his dick down your throat.

“I should’ve done this earlier. Only way to keep your mouth shut is some dick in it.”

Angel tilted your head slightly for you to look at him and just like that you came. Your boyfriend was sex on legs. He tilted his own head back, rolled his eyes, and licked his lips.

When Angel finally looked down he saw you squirming around. He pulled away from you with a trail of saliva still connecting the two of you. “Did you just fucking cum?”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Angel dragged you to the couch and ordered you to stay put while he went into the room. When he returned he had the wand in his hand. You were getting giddy, because when the wand comes out, multiple orgasms are promised.

Before coming back to the couch, Angel turned on the DVD player, putting on one of your many sex tapes you made together.

“Siéntate.” Angel patted his lap. He took your pants and panties off before you sat in his lap.

Leaning over your shoulder, Angel admired your glistening wetness. He couldn’t help himself and had to give it a couple of smacks. “Fucking juicy ass pussy and it’s all mines. It’s mine right, querida?” Angel lowered his voice, tucking his head in the crook of your neck to nip at your chin.

“It’s all yours,” you declared.

“Damn right.” He growled right before he set the wand against your clit. The combination of the sex tape playing and the vibration of the wand had you writhing in pleasurable torture. It was becoming too much, you had to close your eyes.

“Nah, keep your fucking eyes open. Watch how good I fucked you. Don’t you want to be fucked like that again? All cock drunk and willing to do whatever I say.” Angel was on a roll. You knew he didn’t want you to answer, so you kept your mouth closed. “Oh, I love it when you’re like that, mami. All fucking needy and willing, and most importantly so fucking obedient for daddy. Where’s that girl at, baby? Where’s daddy’s good girl, hm?”

If it wasn’t for Angel’s quick hands, you would’ve fell off his lap after the intense orgasm washed over you. If necessary, this man could get you off with his voice alone but add in the erotic video and that damn wand, and you turn into a waterfall.

You thought you would get a reprieve, but Angel put the toy back on your weeping core. “Angel, no more.” You begged, trying to run away, but there was nowhere to go.

“Don’t you wanna be a good girl?” Angel was teasing you now, it was all in his voice. He wanted you over the edge, begging, coming to him because you knew he was the only one able to grant you that release.

You weren’t gonna let him get the best of you. Clinging to your last bit of defiance, you shot back at him. “Angel, if you don’t shut up and fuck me then get the fuck off me and let me find someone to finish the job.”

That little jab got your boyfriend to flip the switch. His features darkened as he laid you down and slammed into you. His hand automatically went around your throat, instinctively making you squeeze around him.

“You always got to pop off at the mouth. Keep it up and I’ll fuck one of those other putas you’ve been talking about.” Angel teased, knowing you were just as possessive as him. He enjoyed the fury on your face and the frustration when you couldn’t do anything but take everything he was giving you.

Angel noticed you trying to wrap your legs around him, but he needed them wide for him to hit the angle he was reaching for. “Keep them legs open.” But he felt so good, you couldn’t comply, so Angel had to pin down your legs to keep them how he wanted them.

“I must be fucking the wrong bitch, because my girl is a grown ass woman and wouldn’t run from the dick.” Angel commented when he saw you trying to push him away.

“Fuck you, Angel.” You spat back which lack the venom you wanted, because of how good Angel was drilling into you. The mayan darkly chuckled as he digged your pussy out, claiming it as his.

This continued on forever until you were a weeping mess from the back to back orgasms Angel generously gave out. He was making sure you knew who own your body.

“Awww, look at my baby. The dick so good, I got you crying?” Angel mocked then leaned down to kiss your tears away.

At this point you threw your pride out the window. You begged Angel to stop, that you couldn’t take anymore, but he insisted that he knew you had one more in you and fortunately, he was right. In no time, Angel pulled out the most explosive orgasm of the night that you almost passed out, but Angel wasn’t having that, he needed you awake.

Angel hovered over you, proud of the number he did on you. “Now, next time I tell you not to do something, you’re gonna listen, right?”

“Nah, you got the wrong bitch.” You smiled weakly.

It looked like Angel needed to teach you another lesson.

Tags: @marvelmaree @chaneajoyyy @sadeyesgf @starrynite7114 @angrythingstarlight @woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sparklemichele @thickemadame @ifoundmyhappythought @dearsamcrobae @titty-teetee

#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #angel x reader #angel x black!reader #black!reader #mayans mc #mayans mc fandom #mayans fandom #mayans #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes fanfic #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #frizzlewrites

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oxhaven · 4 years

Text

Kawaakari : Last Light On The River

➹ description - sequel to kawaakari | samurai!yongguk comes back to your lonely town but it seems he has his mind on other things. You’re distraught on what to do and how to feel but it still remains, who will you serve?

➹ pairing - samurai!yongguk x reader as oc(yeji)

➹ rated - M for mature | 18+ | NSFW

➹ genre - NSFW | smut | angst | edo period japan | samurai!au

➹ word count - 5k

You could see the mirage of sweltering heat lining the orange dirt path. People lined up in front of their stores and even customers and passerby's stayed towards the side to keep the path open for the royal carriages coming forward in the distance. Their loud gossip turned into hushed whispers as the carriages came closer, seeing samurai in full armor leading the extravagant royal display that was pulled by finely dressed servants.

You scoffed to yourself, folding your arms over your kimono as you watched the applause and cheers begin for the presence of the king in your humble town. He had returned from meeting with some diplomats on the other part of the district, and purposely rode through town to flaunt his power over the people. You were proven to be correct, the gold rimmed door swinging open with the sight of a black covered leg kicking out before the sun gave light to the recognizable grace of the King himself.

Bodies crowded together just to get a glimpse of the King make his way down the dirt path in the gold court carriage that two servant men pulled from the front. His fine gold and black robes hung from his pale body loosely, leading up to the small flawless face except for the single scar over his eye. His joyous laugh roared over the cheers of people pushing amongst themselves to wave at the King. You recognized the red tint in his cheeks and half closed eyes, his body staggering in the entrance of the carriage as his hand grabbed hold of his falling crown, the hanging beads crashing against each other.

Ah, he’s already drunk. And in a good mood.

You had served the King with feminie company a few unfortunate times during past summers where he called upon your sisters. Head mistress never passed up the opportunity to offer the King her services, making you and the rest of your sisters dress your best and head to the castle to dine with the Emperor. It was uncomfortable and stomach churning, the deadly rumors about the King refusing to leave your head. King Yoongi was known as a tyrant, torturer, and sick bastard who took pleasure in every form of pain. You were proven right with the suffocating tension when you all settled into the dining room, the men keeping their hands off the ladies until King Yoongi flicked his wrist; permission granted to enjoy the feast and wine. The mood only lightened when your sisters got enough wine in him, a more comfortable expression on his face that was able to make you loosen up as well.

You remembered the many parties you attended like that for the King, making sure to keep a safe distance away from him as he served his men that he granted to join his events. You managed to avoid the many summonses this summer to serve the King, passing the responsibility onto your sisters as you settled for laundry duty. Serving the King meant more money; ten chickens, five pigs and a goat you could send back home for your sickly mother but you couldn’t handle that much murderous tension in a room, it was too much on your heart. You took on basic work back at the oiran with the other men that frequented the shop but you mainly helped out with errands such as these. Trying to gather fruit in the market that now was bombarded with attention to the King rolling through. You sighed out in annoyance though you kept a safe distance hidden away in the crowd, taking in the sight of the foolish King about to fall out of his carriage. You noticed the many samurai surrounding him, raising an eyebrow to their armor cladded bodies and stone faces as they led the way towards the castle. They definitely garnered attention to themselves, making you wonder what entailed during the meeting with the noble diplomats.

You watched the carriage continue to move forward, the many townspeople following the gold display in hopes that he would drop some gold coins for them. You shook your head, wondering if you should pack some extra unpaid fruit in your bag since no one was planning to do their jobs today. You moved to head back to the stalls but quickly stopped in your tracks with eyes going wide.

There were still more men coming, but you recognized this attire on instant. They didn’t wear bulky armor like the samurai in front, but you knew these guys were the real deal with their black robes and glimpses of the familiar crest on their bodies. The group of them followed behind with a significant distance between the carriage, greeting the people as they came by.

Your eyes scanned the group of men, searching out the person that you begged your mind to remember. Remember the appearance, the distinct features, call back on the love you once shared.

It was as if time had slowed, the glimpse of the black hair being pushed back with a tan hand, long fingers getting lost in the black locks before they moved to the back of his neck to massage the tense muscles. You recognized his thick eyebrows, above those dark eyes you could get lost in if you stared for too long. You recognized the nose, pink full lips and the peek of the assorted tattoos along his body right underneath his neck being hidden by his black robe. You recognized it all, drinking him in as quickly as possible before you dared to utter his name.

Yongguk.

Your mouth didn’t even fall all the way open before you were roughly pushed aside, screaming women mingling in the group to convince the samurai to take a chance on them. If it wasn’t for your eyes frantically searching for Yongguk again you would have knocked this heavy basket of fruits on each of their hands and started a brawl.

You managed to find him again in the larger crowd, only for your face to fall with the sight of the many women between his arms. A tiny hope of him acting a bit humble, pushing them aside and focusing on his own task at hand. Instead he welcomed the attention, heated bodies against his own as his mouth moved saying something to rile the girls up in a fit of giggles.

You didn’t notice the way your body quivered or the tears stinging your eyes making them grow red. The basket of fruit that you carried suddenly grew too heavy on your arm, intense wave of emotions filling your chest as you watched his head tilt downward, red painted lips beside his ear as a girl whispered something you assumed to be words of desire, a slight smirk on his face before his eyes darted up to catch yours.

A breath hitched in your throat as you rapidly blinked, feeling hot streams of liquid burning a path down your cheeks. You staggered back as you swallowed a building lump in your throat, unable to read the look in his eyes as he continued to look at you. You finally found your footing to quickly turn around in the direction back to the oiran.

“Yeji-ah, you can’t stay like this forever.”

You muffled your sobs into the satin pillow you buried your face in, your body shaking with the cries you let out as you laid on the fluffy futon underneath you. Your friend sighed in the mirror, carefully drawing a winged line over her eyelid as she painted her face with the make-up on the table.

“Crying all night isn’t going to do you any good.” she tutted, not sparing your form a glance as she continued her work in the mirror.

The night air that came in through the open windows was cool on your hot skin from a very long soak in the bath that you spent crying in there too. You still had more sobs in you to get out, believing that this broken heart was never to be healed.

“I will cry for many more then.” you drawled, moving your smushed face to the side and finally breathing in some fresh air.

“You can’t do that~, you have work to do.”

You raised up your heavy body on your arms, pushing yourself up into a sitting position with legs crossing over. You wiped your nose with the back of your hand and pulled the snot back in with a sniff, hearing your friend make a small noise of disgust.

“I waited and waited for him to return back to me. I worked so hard even though I missed him so much.” You whined with another sniff, your numb heart being hit with another wave of sadness mingled with jealousy as the memory of the woman whispering in his ear flashed in your head again. “He’s a sleazy bastard. I should have listened to him the first time he said not to pursue him. I hope the gods give him what he deserves and-”

A hard smack against the table made you keep quiet, peeking up at your co-worker who was finally looking at you with a kind smile and freshly painted face. “This is not the Yeji I know.”

You made a noise of surprise when she hopped out of the chair and toppled over you, wrapping her arms around your form in a tight hug making you groan. Her hands clasped your face, mushing your cheeks together as she made you turn your attention on her.

“I’m not going to sit here and say I told you so because I already did but you can’t keep ruining this beautiful face with tears for a man.” You blinked at her, your smushed face making pout as your eyebrows knitted close together. Her mouth turned into a brilliant smile, playful eyes sparking with mischief.

“I heard the yamazaki is dining in a bar near the castle, and it’s going to be a very fun party.”

Your head began to shake with denial but her tight clasp kept you still as she continued, “How about we go stir it up a bit more, and I’ll give you a makeover that’ll make every man drop to their knees before you get through the door.”

You blinked at her, your voice coming out muffled, “But Yongguk will be there.”

“That’s precisely why you’re going my love.”

“I don’t want to see women on his arm.”

“And he probably doesn’t want to see his men drooling all over you. But that’s what’s going to happen. And you will take back your pride and ego and show him the power of a courtesan that can kill men and women with her appeal.”

There was a long pause between the two of you, her words settling in before her eyes smiled at you and she smacked a kiss on your lips. She released her hold on you and moved to return back to her seat, giving you the option to let her help you or not. You didn’t really like the idea of going out to a party, much less know that Yongguk was going to be there giving other women attention. Your emotions were unstable; the idea of having to let go of a lost love you’ve waited so long for that you changed your whole demeanor to that of a young girl being married off to a fine prince. Thus, this fine prince ended up being a sordid asshole who had no morals. Though, you couldn’t hold back the excitement in your heart, a little piece of yourself coming back. The look on his face when he saw you in all your glory and unfazed attitude proving two could play this game. And you wanted the last laugh.

That’s what it means to work in Oiran.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, mixed in with the couple cups of wine you downed to get you going. You took extra care in getting ready as fast as you could before the night wasn’t young anymore. You dressed in the finest gowns you could borrow, a kiss to your forehead from the headmistress as she prompted you to bring back customers since you weren’t making any money. Her nose wrinkled in disappointment but she let you and your sister go, holding hands as your laughter filled the night along with whistles of approval from men passing by. There were more people frequenting the district up near the castle, probably due to the King throwing another extravagant party to himself. But you made sure not to go too close, recognizing the famous bar you and your friend were headed towards that was lit up with joyous noise.

You squeezed the hand in yours a little tighter, your friend sparing you a glance as you held your head a bit higher, moving along the path towards the entrance of the bar. You heard the catcalls and whistles, men already falling to their knees to capture your attention like withered flowers. A naughty smile played on your lips, the fire lit lights from the windows shining on your face as you stepped in, your presence being made known by the men who were fascinated with your beauty. Donned in silk red and white robes, shoulders and neck exposed the cool summer air as your hair was pinned up in a messy bun with fringes of your hair coming down to tickle your exposed skin.

You glanced around, already gaining company as paid drinks were offered to you before you could even find a seat. Your friend and you loved to play a game of hard-to-get, only showing each other attention as men tried to get in between. Your eyes scanned the bar in search of the bastard you had your mind on all this time, biting down on your glossed bottom lip as your brown eyes searched through the yamazaki men.

Indeed you found him in the hazy smoked corner of the bar, giggling women at his feet and pouring him drink after drink, even feeding him a chicken teriyaki. He seemed to have noticed you first, dark eyes boring into yours as a red tint washed over your body. You cleared your throat and looked back at your drink in hand, throwing your head back as you let the burning liquid course down your throat.

A few more men sat at the table with you and your co-worker, compliments and words of desire already spewing from their mouths as you turned your work switch on. As a maiden who pleases men this was the same exact scenario, but instead of money you were earning Yongguk’s attention.

“What’s your name, pretty girl?”

This one had caught your eye, among the others that your co-worker was keeping entertained he had his dark eyes on you. You scanned him over, being surprisingly reminded of Yongguk as you took his features in. Tan skin, thick eyebrows, short black hair and an adorable smile that made his eyes smaller. He was much more giggly, his body leaning towards yours as you rested a hand against his chest to steady him. “Yeji.”

He chuckled foolishly, “Nice to meet you, pretty girl. Name’s Himchan.”

You chuckled to yourself, laughing at his drunken actions as you watched him take a bottle of liquor out of the hand of his companion beside him, not even sparing him a glance at his flustered face. He poured the liquid into your cup, up to the very rim before he did the same with his own.

You could feel heat against the nape of your neck as you took your cup into your hands again, carefully bringing the rim to your plush lips and drinking down the alcohol. Your face scrunched over as the strong alcohol filled your senses, making your body shiver. Himchan watched your actions closely, all the while letting his hand creep up your leg. The rough hand trailing up your thigh exposed more of your skin, his face leaning in as his tongue wet his pink lips ready to press against-

You watched his face fly onto the table, his hand torn away from your body as you held back a sudden scream. Himchan was out cold before he could even put up a fight, his body slumped against the table. Your head spun to the side, seeing Yongguk stand tall over you with a hand rubbing over the knuckles of his fist.

Both of your attention was turned to the loud roar of one of his men, seeing the rest of the bar had taken notice of what went down. The large man staggered before dragging a bottle of one of the wooden tables, swinging it back over his shoulder before throwing it towards Yongguk. He dodged expertly, the wasted booze splattering over the wall as the rest of the bar went into an uproar. Yongguk had spurred on a drunken brawl, the yamazaki men beginning to fight amongst themselves.

Fists were flying in each other’s faces as women screamed and moved to get away. You stumbled back, pushing away the heavy bodies that threatened to collide into you as you searched out for your friend. Your search was short-lived, a familiar rough hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling you out.

A rush of fresh air hit your heated face as you welcomed the outside, gathering your loose robes with your other free hand. You stared at the back of the man pulling you away from the bar, an ocean of mixed emotions washing over your body as you searched for your voice.

“Guk!”

He didn’t even spare you a glance, continuing to drag you along to wherever he was going.

“Stop!” you let out again with a shaky voice, attempting to pull your arm back but his grip proved stronger.

“My fucking arm, stop!!”

You collided into his body abruptly, his familiar scent filling your senses as you instinctively grabbed his body. You didn’t have time to gather your bearings, your head being tilted back with a possessive hand in the back of your hair and pulling it down. Soft lips met your own and it took every muscle to tighten over for you not to melt. His lips were firm but needy, kissing you just like you imagined you would when the two of you were granted to meet again.

You heard a growl rip from his throat the same time his other free hand clutched around the fabric on your chest. Your heart skipped at the thought of him ripping your garments off of you when you were still outside, but he controlled himself as he released it and let his hand trail up your heart skin to wrap gently around your neck.

He pulled away from your lips much to your disappointment, the hand on your neck keeping you in place as your eyes fluttered open.

“Gukkie..”

He looked just as completely entranced as you probably looked to him, holding each other’s stares as your breaths mingled together in the short distance. He dragged his hand down from your neck, stepping back with his hand now in yours before leading you off again to a nearby ryokan. The both of you hurried in, ignoring the judging eyes of the innkeeper who recognized the face of the yamazaki. Yongguk led you down to a room, guiding you in and shutting the door behind the two of you.

You brought him into your arms, leaning up to kiss him like you did before with more desire as you fought with robes on your body. He pushed you down, falling onto the floor and silently thanking that there was already a soft futon set up underneath you. He didn’t stray too far from your body, kissing you hungrily before dragging his lips down your neck.

You had played this out in your head a trillion times, thinking of all the different ways this could go. But now here you were, unable to do anything with your hands as they scratched and pulled on his body trying to anchor yourself with the pleasure and emotions your body was experiencing.

He managed to suck a few red patches over your neck and chest, already putting claim on you as his lips trailed down further. Your silk robes were no match for his steady hands putting shame to the hard time you were having earlier. You couldn’t decide if his kisses were hot against your skin or if your body was so hot that his kisses were cooling you down. Either way he had reached down to a region that needed him the most, your thighs spreading on instinct for him.

A finger dipped into your pool, swirling about before he pulled it up to the light revealing a sheen of wetness on his digit. His dark eyes caught yours in a heated gaze, making sure you watched him take his middle finger into his mouth, sucking it clean. You moaned wantonly at the sight, quickly biting it back with a whine in fear of your loudness.

He watched his head dive in, feeling his tongue against your slick folds as he licked up hungrily. You covered your mouth in silent scream, feeling his tongue quickly work into rhythm that circled around your folds and lapped up to flick your clit.

You pressed your hand against your mouth tighter, the noise in your throat finding its way out as your lips mouthed curses into your palm. Your free hand found it way into his hair, but he quickly pulled your grasp into his own hand and held on securely. His tongue dipped into your hole, pushing it in as far as it would go making your walls sputter in desire for more length, more girth, and more heat. Your legs were a quivering mess as he lapped you up, altering with his tongue going inside you in a mocking gesture of what was soon to come.

You had needed this. Badly.

Your robes were beginning to stick to your body though you were quite exposed to the air that began to fill with sex. You almost couldn’t take it when his mouth wrapped around your rosebud, sucking into his mouth and letting his tongue swirl around making you scream into your hand. You began to buck into his mouth, wanting even more of the pleasure you didn’t know what to do with.

He swirled his tongue over your pussy a few more times, a squelching noise filling the room shamefully as you whined to mask over the sound. Disappointment washed over you when he moved away, only to clench your walls at the sight of him sitting on the back of his heels, loosening the tie around his yukata.

Your eyes darted down as his robe opened up gracing you with the sight of his tan skin, toned body that was donning fresh new battle scars since the last you’ve seen of him. Nothing caught your eyes more than the hard meat standing at attention. You didn’t notice your legs were quivering in anticipation until his hands were underneath your thighs, pushing them back to fold over your torso. The concept of time had escaped from you not knowing if Yongguk was moving too fast or too slow as your eyes strained to watch him the pitch of darkness. You realized you didn’t need to when you could feel it, feel the head of his cock at your entrance coating itself in your wetness all the more making that same shameful sound.

He was pushing himself in before you knew it, making a lustful noise tear from your throat as you stared up at him with eyes losing focus. You heard hiss out a curse, something about the tightness as he permitted his dick to go in deeper.

Claim you.

He held the back of your knees firmly, letting them shake in his hold as he guided his cock to go inside of you. He was so large, too thick for you to take in all at once. He knew this, which is why he pulled back to push in more slowly earning another fucked out whine from your throat. The two of you continued on like that until he was satisfied with what length you could take, pulling his hips back and experimentally snapping back in. Your body took the move well, coating his dick in a sheen of wetness as he built up a steady, slow rhythm. Even though your body was taking it well the pleasure was too much for you to handle. It had been so long since the last time for you never dared to have sex with another man if it wasn’t Yongguk. No amount of fantasizing and masturbating prepared you for this as you held onto his wrists so you wouldn’t lose yourself to the pleasure.

Yongguk watched his dick slip inside you, picking up speed as you took more of his length. Your wells sputtered over his girth, the tightness coaxing him to spill himself so early in the act. He chased the temptation away, snapping his hips into your own until his trance broke with your noise breaking into a high pitch. He whispered a soft apology, before returning to a bearable pace and letting his eyes scan over your body. You were a mess that was all his, in a shameful position that opened up just for him. You couldn’t hold himself back from picking up speed again, wanting to hear more of the noises spilling from your mouth. You were calling upon the gods, not bothering to hold back your wanton sounds as you spurred Yongguk on. You ignored the soreness in your legs as he pushed them back further, letting his body hover over you as he slammed his cock into your squelching pussy. Your eyes rolled back as you begged for it, making sure to tighten your walls over him everytime he came down.

He cursed aloud before falling back onto his knees, halting his movements as he gained a tighter grip on the back of your knees. His dick slipped in and out of you, a slower pace than before though you weren’t complaining. The oncoming feeling of heat building in your lower stomach made you whine, as you reached out uselessly for Yongguk.

He stared down at your pleading expression, messy hair sticking to the sides of your face, lustful eyes begging out, “Make it last...please, make it last.”

You whispered the words over and over, listening to the growl that tore from his throat as he disciplined himself to keep a steady pace as he felt your walls squeeze over his cock. Your orgasm washed over in waves, a gurtled moan of his name as your eyes rolled back and curses spewed from your shameful mouth. You choked on a whine when he picked up speed, your sore legs falling to his sides as he released them and his hands fell between you. You listened to his mingled grunts and moans as he fucked you like he wanted. You wrapped your heavy arms around him, letting your mouth trail kisses along his neck and whispered dirty nothings into the air just for him to hear. He cursed loudly, quickly pulling out and emptying himself on the lower part of your stomach. You felt the hot spurts of liquid on your skin, the act of it almost turning you on again.

He fell over you again, welcoming his body in open arms as a tired smile played on your face. The both of you were spent and sleep was calling to you but the excitement of being with Yongguk after so long kept you up. You traced pictures into his back, your mind racing with the things you wanted to say to him.

You felt the weight on your body raise off of you, a look of surprise donning your features as you watched him gather his robe to cover him again and move away from your body. You quickly sat up, pulling your own silk to cover your body as you silently watched his back turn to you.

“So we have sex and that’s it? No I’ve missed you or this is where I’ve been this whole time?”

He was silent to your shaky questions, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “You’ll be safe here tonight. Go home in the morning.”

You scoffed in disbelief, a familiar twinge in your heart as you blurted, “You’re a sleazy bastard. You take all the women you want and throw them away after one night. If I didn’t show up tonight it would probably be another woman in here with you wouldn’t there?”

“Stop it.” his deep voice gently commanded, his back still turned to you as anger welled up inside.

“I’ve waited all this time for you and the first thing you do when you get back is play with some prostitutes and ignore me? When were you going to make time for me!?” Your voice was much louder, enough to wake up other possible guests in the inn. Your mouth pressed closed when he turned around with a harsh stare until you realized what was being held in them. Your jaw trembled as you felt your eyes burn, hoping to get the rest of it out in a clear voice.

“Did you forget about everything between us?”

You stared each other down for a long while, refusing to break eye contact in fear that if you did it meant he no longer carried those feelings for you. You blinked when he moved towards you, a hand on the back of your neck pulling you to the lips that placed a soft kiss on your head.

“Keep your feelings close to your heart. Don’t let anyone else see what’s inside.”

You gasped when you felt the tight tension on your neck make a snap, your consciousness quickly going out and sleep welcoming you home.

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themurphyzone · 4 years

Text

PatB Oneshot: Every Rose Has Thorns and Petals

Summary: Brain’s plan is simple: create a Valentine card with a message that the world should adore him as their new ruler. But he needs extra help in coming up with a catchy message to rein in the consumers for the outer cover. And who better to help than the expert of all things amour?

AN: I decided to see if I could write a good Suavo. Enjoy! Warning for terribly cheesy flirting. I don’t typically write this genre XD

This borrows from the HC that Pinky can still do the Suavo persona.

Written for Valentine's Day/Suavo Sunday. I regret everything.

AO3 Link

At last, a new plan came to fruition! With Valentine’s Day looming upon them with its chocolate-coated fangs and sickly sweet aroma, people would be flocking to grocery stores everywhere to purchase giant teddy bears they could barely carry around and heart-shaped boxes of gourmet chocolate. But most lucrative of all, they would buy Valentine cards with the most obnoxious lovestruck messages that were far cheesier than Pinky’s cheesecake.

Everything clicked into place. The slightly larger than average dimensions of a Valentine’s card. Various red and pink hues for the envelopes. Colorful images with hearts, roses, and Pinky on the front cover (for Pinky met all of the scientific criteria that triggered one’s protective instincts). And on the inside, an image of Brain standing on the world in royal regalia with a message declaring that all the world shall adore him as their new leader.

But there was a single, glaring flaw to his otherwise brilliant plan.

He could not come up with a ridiculous phrase for the outside cover. It had to be eye-catching, humorous, or corny enough to grab a customer’s attention. He stared at the smiling picture of Pinky for several minutes, then gave in.

Pinky was the expert in all things ridiculous after all.

“Life is the road I wanna keep going! Love is a river and I wanna keep going ooonnnn!” Pinky sang along to his playlist, leading a Barbie doll in a tender waltz.

And it was best to interrupt before Pinky’s playlist reached My Heart Will Go On. That sappy 90s love ballad was on there. He was not striking the King of the World pose until he was actually king of the world, but that assertion hadn’t gotten through Pinky’s cotton-stuffed head yet.

Brain grabbed the prototype card and pencil, marching up to the windowsill where Pinky and Barbie danced under the evening sky. The sun lowered, the moon rose, and the first twinkling stars poked out, signifying the beginning of another night.

The phone was propped against a wall, and Brain smacked the image of Anastasia and Dmitri dancing to stop the song as he passed by. Pinky continued to hum, dipping Barbie low enough that her blonde hair touched the windowsill. His eyes were half-lidded, tail swishing to an invisible beat. Though there was no music, his rhythm was steady and his feet never missed a step.

It was mesmerizing. Pinky danced with all the grace of a professional ballerina.

He pricked his finger on a sharp point of the prototype card, and the poke brought Brain back to reality. Right. No distractions.

“Hiya, Brain! Zort!”

Dear Archimedes there were otherworldly blue eyes right in front of his face.

Startled, Brain leapt back and swung his pencil defensively. There was a muffled narf as the eraser end went into Pinky’s mouth. Once the initial shock passed, Pinky giggled and nibbled on the eraser, several rubbery shavings poking out between his teeth.

Brain took a deep breath, trying to calm his too-fast heartbeat.

“Quit slobbering on my erasers, Pinky,” Brain snapped. He removed his pencil from Pinky’s mouth, wrinkling his nose at the saliva-coated eraser. He tossed it aside, and the pencil skittered across the counter and onto the floor.

“But they taste so good!” Pinky licked his lips. “Especially with a pinch of dryer lint. That way you get fluff and chewiness in one single fantastic bite!”

Sometimes he truly worried for the state of Pinky’s digestive tract. For now, it was best to change the topic entirely. “As much as I’d love to debate the intricacies of your exotic cuisine, I require some of your eccentric expertise for my latest plan,” Brain said, setting the prototype card on the counter.

Pinky’s tail and ears perked up. A predictable reaction, but reliable all the same.

While Pinky put Barbie away, Brain retrieved a new pencil. There were few writing utensils that weren’t chewed up by a bored employee or Pinky for fun, and it wouldn’t be long before Brain would have to acquire more.

“I gotta help Brain now, Barbie. Thanks for sharing a dance with me! Those ballroom dance classes are really paying off!” Pinky chirped, waving to the inanimate Barbie, who now sat in a pink plastic convertible next to a shirtless Ken doll. He peeked inside the card and clasped his hands together, holding them against his cheek dreamily. “Awww, Brain! This is gonna be so romantic!”

“The very atmosphere I intend to create with these mass-produced cards, Pinky,” Brain replied. “However, while I have all the elements of your typical Valentine card alongside an additional message that will aid us in our conquest, I haven’t worked out one essential component yet.”

He closed the card and tapped the empty speech bubble next to Pinky’s image.

Pinky tilted his head. “You haven’t figured out how to make single people buy your cards yet?”

Drat. He hadn’t considered those outliers.

“Then we’ll just have to infiltrate the postal service,” Brain said, mentally congratulating himself on correcting that error quickly. “But before we implement the plan, I need a Valentine phrase for this speech bubble. A saying that will entice the average infatuated consumer and hook them into purchasing my cards alone. And since you lean heavily toward the sentimental and saccharine…well, this is where I require your assistance.”

“The sentimental and the saccharine?” Pinky echoed. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that soap opera, Brain. What channel is it on?”

Brain opened his notebook and found an empty page, poised to jot down Pinky’s suggestions. “The real life channel. Don’t be concerned about missing it, Pinky. It’s on 24/7 all year long. But I digress. The sooner I find a phrase, the sooner we’ll have the world!”

Pinky tapped his foot in thought, the tip of his tongue poking out like he truly believed protruding tongues had the power to magically grant ideas. For all Brain knew, Pinky probably believed that.

Then Pinky snapped his fingers. “I got it! How ‘bout ‘be mine, valentine’?”

“Too cliché,” Brain muttered. A million Valentine cards would already have similar phrasing. They didn’t have time to seize control of a greeting card factory. “Not unique enough.”

Although the valentine bit wasn’t particularly directed toward him, his grip on the pencil slackened, the tip leaving a graphite smudge along the margins. He quickly turned the pencil around and erased it, hoping Pinky didn’t catch onto his brief moment of inattention.

Fortunately, Pinky didn’t notice. “Alrighty then. Hmmm…you’re the sour cream to my cheese-slathered potato?”

“…I’ll save it for a last resort.”

Well, he asked for unique. But sour cream didn’t particularly invoke strong Valentine feelings. Idioms that involved sweet foods with enough sugar to induce diabetes in an elephant would be better, and he made a quick note to the side.

“I turtle-y adore you?” Pinky suggested, his blue eyes sparkling accordingly.

Brain felt a light blush settling over his cheeks, and he rubbed his fur to rid himself of the mortifying feeling. “Doesn’t match your picture. And no animal puns unless they involve mice.”

Pinky rubbed his chin, not one to be easily deterred. “There’s gotta be some good ones on the Internet.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Pinky,” Brain sighed. He sat cross-legged on the counter, massaging his forehead to intercept any headaches before they began. “Figured we should’ve gone with the photobooth plan. It’s your fault for influencing my subconscious with your caterwauling over The Princess Bride’s movie adaptation.”

“Troz! I’ll have you know Princess Buttercup and Westley have great chemistry!” Pinky pouted.

Brain rolled his eyes. “Please. They’re about as compatible as two noble gases.”

Pinky went quiet after that. Whether he’d gone off into the imaginary world of talking cheeses or taken unusually great offense on the lead couple’s behalf, Brain wasn’t sure. But the silence obliged, and Brain took the opportunity to ponder their next course of action.

Take a risk and use one of Pinky’s earlier suggestions? Scrap the plan entirely and pull one from storage? Seek a second opinion?

Then Pinky gasped, his tail pointing high in the air like an inverted exclamation point.

“Brain, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” Pinky asked, gripping Brain’s shoulders in excitement.

Brain leaned back, supporting himself on the palms of his hands. “We break out the Feldman disguises and ask Mr. Sultana for his opinion on what a hypothetical Valentine card should say?”

“I’m sure he’s got a bunch of good ones, but that’s not it,” Pinky said. “Actually, I oughta slip into something more…in-character. I’ll be right back!”

Pinky skipped away, humming as he went over to his dress-up box in the corner of their cage. He pulled a divider around himself so that all Brain could see was a shadowy silhouette rummaging through clothing and accessories.

Brain continued to ponder, though no feasible ideas were coming to him. He closed his eyes, shutting out all visual forms of distraction. He listened to Pinky dressing in the cage, but it was more white noise than a true hindrance.

Five minutes later, he still had nothing. But there was something…different.

A tantalizing scent. Not overly sharp, though just light enough that he couldn’t identify it with confidence. And he wanted to know more.

It wasn’t fruit or soap. Nor was it vanilla, like the scented candles Pinky loved so much.

Something smooth snaked its way under his nose, brushing the fur above his lips. The scent was closer now. His nose twitched.

“ACHOO!”

Startled by the force of his sudden sneeze, Brain’s eyes flew open. He rubbed his nose to wipe off the lingering sensation, staring down at Pinky’s long tail, which sat unassumingly in his lap. The tip was wrapped around the stem of a small red rose.

The tail lifted, rubbing against the fur under Brain’s chin. Brain felt his cheeks heat up again, and he quickly batted the offending appendage away.

“Pinky, you’re not helping my state of-“ Brain began, ready to launch into a verbal tirade on how he needed to think and if Pinky wasn’t going to help then he could make like a mitotic cell and split…and then he saw a very familiar, perhaps all too-familiar, lavender tuxedo with an overstuffed dark purple…something underneath.

He couldn’t tell if it was a shirt, vest, or pincushion. A gold button glinted in the middle of Pinky’s chest.

Gulping, Brain knew the mysterious article of clothing was the least of his concerns. He forced himself to look up, gaze raking past the slender neck and toward half-lidded, coy blue eyes. A sophisticated mustache poked out from each side of Pinky’s muzzle. And he was genteel, charismatic…

Suave.

Pinky’s ability to play a character to perfection never ceased to astound him. He still remembered? Brain had long destroyed the Personalitron and its blueprints, deeming them unnecessary and cumbersome.

“Pardonnez-moi, you with the giant head and marshmallow body are seeking the passionate advice of I, the great Pinky…Suavvvo-“ he drawled every syllable with that odd French accent, r’s rolling off his tongue like smooth butter “-for your…ah, Saint Valentine card, no?”

Fu—choose your words wisely—I mean, dear name of a historical contributor to the scientific or mathematical field who I can’t identify properly at this time.

“I fail to see how playing dress-up is going to help with this conundrum, Pinky Suavo.” Brain stood up and crossed his arms. He wasn’t about to let the Suavo persona sway him. He was the Brain, and he bowed to no one.

Exert control over the situation. Yes. That’s what he needed.

Suavo plucked the rose from his tail between two practiced fingers, inhaling its scent deeply. Where did he even get that rose from? The lab wasn’t growing flora for any reason, nor did any scientist have the green thumb to care for anything so fragile.

“Oh, but love is always…how did you say, a conundrum, is it not?” he purred, and Brain scowled. But Suavo was unperturbed. “One may pluck the petals from a pretty flower and ask if one loves or loves not, yet how will one know if they ask the flower and not the lover? Oh, I do not know.”

His voice dipped into a lower, softer register, and a strange sensation traveled up Brain’s spine. Though the riddle seemed directed at him, he wasn’t in the mood to unravel any cryptic meanings.

Just like before, Suavo’s magnetism was…hypnotizing. Like he had no choice but to do what Pinky Suavo said. And wasn’t that ironic? He, the Brain, as the hapless follower instead of the commanding leader.

Suavo appeared oblivious to Brain’s internal dilemma. He simply set the rose back into his tail and twirled one curled end of the mustache around his finger, humming a dreamy, sentimental song to himself. He was waiting on Brain in the most irritating fashion possible.

But if he wanted this plan to work, he’d just have to tolerate Pinky’s attempt at resolving his predicament.

“Pinky Suavo,” Brain sighed, forcing all his pride back. Suavo turned to him, his eyes still in that odd half-lidded position. “Is that overstuffed pincushion actually giving you ideas for the card?”

“Of course, mon ami.” Suavo slicked his ears and fur tuft back with a smooth, graceful stroke of his hand. “For it is he, who is I, who is the connoisseur of…ammooooouuuur.”

Brain grabbed his notepad and pencil, his stomach doing odd backflips like butterflies had somehow burrowed their way into his flesh and laid eggs there. He was not paying attention to Suavo’s hand movements. No, the eye was just naturally drawn to movement. That’s how it worked.

Besides, he was looking at the same being who once managed to get all his fingers and tail tangled up in a complicated cat’s cradle.

Suavo clicked his tongue, deftly plucking the items out of Brain’s grip. “No, no, you silly mouse. You cannot experience amour through pen and paper alone. You must feel it, see it, hear it. For it is everywhere and anywhere you search…if only you would use those big ears of yours.”

Brain gritted his teeth and jumped for his supplies, but Suavo simply held them out of reach with one long arm. All Brain could manage was a tiny hop. It wasn’t getting him anywhere.

So he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

“I’m listening, Pinky Suavo,” Brain said, hoping he sounded at least a little cordial. “I believe the colloquial is, I’m all ears?”

A pleased smile flitted across Suavo’s face, his arm lowering.

Perfect.

Then Brain threw himself forward, digging his hands and feet into Suavo’s clothing and hauling himself towards the notepad and pencil. Fortunately, it wasn’t hard to grip. Suavo stumbled a bit, but he refused to yield. Brain grabbed a fabric fold on Suavo’s right shoulder. He was so close-

-and a red nose pushed into his own. Warm, mint-scented breath tickled the fur on his face.

“You know, it is more, ah, polite to take a mouse to dinner before you begin climbing him, is it not?” Suavo crooned.

Brain’s ears flopped against his back, a warm sensation sweeping through his body. His clammy paws lost their grip on Suavo’s clothing, and he would’ve fallen entirely if Suavo’s free arm hadn’t wrapped around his waist and secured him with a strong yet gentle grip.

In hindsight, perhaps his attempt at reclaiming his belongings was ill-thought out.

Perhaps it was for the best that the arm was covered by fabric, but at the same time, some irrational thought of wanting Pinky’s fur against his own wormed its way into his mind.

Suavo set the notepad and pen down with care, dipping Brain in the process. Brain clutched the fabric tightly, but it was unnecessary. Suavo’s embrace was strong enough to prevent him from landing on his head. Then Suavo straightened up, once again plucking the rose from his tail and holding it next to Brain.

“Oh, now this is…magnifique,” Suavo murmured, his eyes darting from the rose to Brain’s face. Though Brain tried to maintain eye contact to make his displeasure known, his resolve was quickly crumbling away. Surely it was the close proximity, the thumb stroking his fur, that was picking apart all rational thought and leaving some hormone-driven creature behind?

“What?” Brain asked, and he inwardly cringed. His voice wasn’t working properly. He’d meant to sound more demanding than that pathetic excuse of a question.

“Your eyes, mon ami, are just a few shades lighter this rose,” Suavo said. Brain stared at him in disbelief. Comparing eyes to flowers, or worse, gemstones, was just ridiculous.

And your comparison of Pinky’s aesthetically pleasing eyes to the wild blue yonder above isn’t?

Brain ignored the contemptuous voice. That was completely different. The sky was neither a flower nor a gemstone, and therefore it wasn’t off-limits. Besides, it was a thought for him and him alone. It’s not like anyone else was going to hear it.

“You are but a deer mouse in the headlights. Yet there is no need to hide under a thorny layer,” Suavo hummed, tilting his head curiously. Deliberately. How strange. Even the slightest movement was mesmerizing. His fingers traveled up the flower stem, until his hand rested underneath the petals, supporting the tiny rose in the palm of his hand. “A rosebush may scratch and prick, yet the great Pinky Suavo cannot be swayed. For there’s a pretty bloom hidden in the darkness, and he is who moi shall…shall…NARF!”

Shocked by the return of the nonsensical exclamation, Brain lost his hold on Pinky Suavo’s clothing. He fell onto the counter surface with a pained groan. The hard material wasn’t doing wonders for the bends in his tail.

Something fluttered against his nose, causing Brain to sneeze again. He removed the offending object, and found himself staring down at the rose he’d been teased with. If he ignored the heavy-handed rose imagery Suavo kept spouting, it was rather adequate for a specimen.

“Narf! Zort! Poit! Egad!” Pinky laughed uncontrollably between his usual tics, uttering them at such a fast rate that they started to blend together like a tongue twister. “Ooh, I haven’t—troz! Haven’t said narf in a long time! But it’s poit—it’s okay cause you needed my help!”

Idiot.

Brain sighed and pushed himself to a standing position, then placed the rose on his notepad so Pinky could reclaim it later.

Now that he thought about it, Pinky hadn’t said any of his favorite syllables in his Suavo persona. Of course, they’d been replaced by stupid love poetry and gratuitous French, but the narfs and poits and zorts were rather refreshing.

Odd. He never thought he’d actually miss Pinky’s…unique diction.

“Pinky, were you actively suppressing your usual speech patterns in your strange form of assistance?” Brain asked. He couldn’t help his curiosity.

“Zort! Oh Brain, I’m not nearly as good as suppressing things like you are!” Pinky’s chortles continued as Brain grabbed his wrist and led him straight to the water bottle in their cage. “Besides—narf! Besides, I had to stay in character!”

“Remind me to never have you play a villain for any future plans revolving around cinema,” Brain grumbled.

Pinky’s tail happily flicked against Brain’s own. Though the imbecile was just swishing it around mindlessly, the brief physical contact suddenly brought back that very odd, warm sensation.

Curse this heightened sensitivity! It’s only a principle of thermodynamics and heat transfer!

“Brain, are you okay? Poit,” Pinky asked as Brain made him sit down in front of the water bottle. “You’re all woozy and whirlywindy. And white and red all over like a newspaper!”

“I’m f-fine,” Brain said. He was absolutely not relying on Pinky for balance. “Just drink, Pinky. And take off those silly clothes when you’re done.”

Pinky stared, not comprehending anything Brain said, but that was normal for him. Then he started to laugh, and only then did Brain realize he needed to watch his word choice, especially around a certain someone, because of course his fluff-filled mind would misconstrue it.

“Not like that!” Brain spat.

Pinky tipped onto his back, legs kicking upwards as his high-pitched laughter continued to assault Brain’s ears.

For the sake of his own sanity, he left Pinky to his own devices and stormed over to the nearest sink. He pushed on the tap for cold water until he’d created his own miniature waterfall, then hopped right in. He welcomed the cascade over his body.

As long as it pushed his homeostasis in the opposite direction, he was fine with resembling a drowned rat for now.

o-o-o-o-o

The plan failed before it ever took off. Brain had been so distracted that he’d failed to notice the lab was completely out of colored ink, rendering the copy machines completely useless.

He’d gone with the ‘you’re the sour cream to my potatoes’ message for the front cover, formatting it into the speech bubble in an elegant cursive font. Though it wasn’t conventional by any means, he simply considered it again since no other suggestions were forthcoming.

But at the same time, part of him wasn’t keen on allowing the masses to lay eyes on the Valentine card.

It seemed special. Unexplainably so.

“Brain?” Pinky called. His verbal tics had long gone back to their normal frequency. “Aren’t we taking over the world tonight?”

Brain shook his head, relieved that he finally had control over his body again. “Not tonight, Pinky. I’m afraid I’ve been prematurely thwarted by the lack of inventory in this lab.”

“Oh, you don’t have to be afraid, Brain,” Pinky said. Gone were Suavo’s clothing and mustache, and Pinky’s lean, muscular arms were on full display as he folded them across his chest. “I’ll protect you from Tory.”

It was an unnecessary gesture, but Brain couldn’t help but be touched by the admission all the same. Brain made a show of carefully placing the card into storage, just so he could distract himself momentarily.

When he finished his task, he found Pinky holding an elegant paper rose, crafted meticulously with purple tissue paper. A light blush settled over Brain’s cheeks as he accepted the gift from Pinky, whose blue eyes shone brightly as Brain ran his fingers over the soft petals.

“Thank you, Pinky,” Brain said gratefully, and he resisted the urge to rush off immediately and place the paper rose with his globe keychain, another gift from his dearest friend.

“You’re welcome!” Pinky smiled, and Brain’s heart beat faster. Then Pinky’s gaze flicked to the TV screen, and Brain figured he was about to be roped into watching a cheesy love story unfold. “Brain, can we watch Beauty and the Beast please? With those special Valentine M&M’s and chocolate-coated popcorn? I saw a whole bunch in the kitchen! Narf!”

Well…he could’ve suggested worse. At least this one was tolerable.

And it’s been a while since they’d watched a movie together.

“Get everything set up, Pinky,” Brain ordered. “I’ll join you when I’m finished with my own tasks.”

Pinky saluted and scampered into the kitchen, grabbing the rose he’d held in his Suavo persona along the way. He sang at the top of his lungs, though he’d forgotten most of the actual words and replaced them with a series of narfs and portmanteaus. Once Pinky was sufficiently distracted, Brain moved his notepad and pen over to the TV, then laid the paper rose over it.

He heard the crinkle of a bag followed by the sound of M&M’s being poured into a bowl. Pinky would be back any minute.

Brain knocked his head against the side of a wall.

Calm yourself. Pinky believes pebbles are precious gifts. You’ll be fine. Probably.

Slowly, he approached the drawer where he’d kept his hidden present. Sifting through several sheets of paper covered with complex formulas he’d deliberately placed in there to ward off Pinky, he found the sunflower pen he’d carefully hidden towards the back.

It wasn’t exactly…traditional for a Valentine’s gift. Simple blue ink with a green body and tipped with a bright yellow sunflower.

But it was bright. And colorful. Like Pinky.

More importantly, it was practical.

Brain’s ears twitched, and he heard the whirring of the VCR as Pinky popped in the movie. Brain debated leaving the pen and presenting it after the movie, but he didn’t want to procrastinate either. Otherwise it would be impossible to enjoy their activity.

Well, he could just drop it in Pinky’s lap. And snatch up some popcorn so his actions wouldn’t be too conspicuous. He climbed out of the drawer, holding the pen behind his back.

A preview for The Little Mermaid began to play. Pinky was enraptured by the animated marine animals. He seemed so happy.

Maybe he should reconsider. Valentine items would be discounted next week. He could just hold off and give a belated…what was he thinking? Valentine’s was just another day to turn profit!

The paper rose was sitting right there. No…Valentine’s meant something to Pinky. Like Christmas.

“Goody, you’re back, Brain!” Pinky cheered, stuffing two pink M&M’s into his mouth. The large bowl beside him was overflowing with chocolate. “It’s not raining inside, but I love your parasol! Where’d you buy it?”

A parasol?

He glanced up at the sunflower. Oh. So there was a resemblance to a parasol, he supposed. If one viewed it at a certain angle, that is.

“It’s a pen. Not a parasol. Take it,” Brain said, holding out the sunflower pen.

Pinky didn’t take it.

Instead, he made a joyful noise and crushed Brain with a flying embrace. Brain dropped the pen in surprise as Pinky’s entire body curled around him, feet off the ground. Brain had to support all his weight, Pinky’s warm fur brushing against his own.

“I love it! Loveitloveitloveit! Thanks, Brain!” Pinky squealed, happy tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“You’re welcome, Pinky,” Brain murmured as Pinky nuzzled his cheek. “Now get off. I require my lungs. And heart. And my digestive system.”

Pinky didn’t get off until the Disney fanfare to herald the beginning of the movie began to play. Then he quieted down immediately, rolling the sunflower pen so that it rested across his lap.

“…happy Valentine’s Day,” Brain whispered, nibbling on a red M&M.

Pinky smiled back, teeth flecked with bits of chocolate. He shushed Brain, not wanting him to interrupt the opening narration.

As the enchanted rose appeared onscreen, Brain stroked the soft tissue paper of Pinky’s beautiful creation. Then he set it aside and reached for some popcorn.

His world was here. And there was nothing more he wanted.

Fun fact: the original name for this fic was going to be Suavo Valentino, but the current title was a last minute change cause somehow I just wrote a lot about roses.

Another change: The Princess Bride bit was originally a dig at High School Musical and how Disney Channel has bad romance in general, but since that was mid 2000s I changed it so this story could reasonably fit in the 90s.

Suavo’s lines...were interesting. I couldn’t stop laughing at how dumb some of them were though.

Brain’s got it bad here. Save him.

Are the roses corny? Yes. Do I care? Not really. Maybe. Possibly.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #pinky suavo #suavo sunday

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contrabandhothead · 4 years

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Hi! I have a request for Band of Brothers. How Easy company would treat the reader when this person is sick. I hope this works! I love everything you have written, thank you!

in sickness and health - band of brothers

- [ BUCK COMPTON ]

PANICS

this man smothers you with attention

he’s waiting on you hand and foot every single second of the day, and he does not care if he gets sick

he’s literally so sweet, even though he still tries to kiss you

like Buck, no, it’s probably contagious

holds your hand while you wait for the medic

tells the medic all of your symptoms for you while you sleep on his shoulder

he actually learned how to cook just so he could make you some food when you got the flu once

he tells you he needs you to get better so he can take you out on dates and spoil you Buck, we’re in the middle of a war

he acts like he doesn’t spoil you already

- [ CHUCK GRANT ]

will beat your ass if you’re not in bed

don’t even try to resist him taking care of you, he will not be having it

actually super soft as long as you don’t fight him about taking some time off the line

chews people out for being too loud while you’re trying to sleep

brings all of your meals to your room and eats with you, making sure you finish every part of your meal

LOTS OF CUDDLES

he’s quite careful not to get sick though

don’t ever try and deny that you’re sick, seriously

“fine? FINE? baby, i just saw you throw up.”

constantly checks your forehead to make sure you’re not burning up

- [ BILL GUARNERE ]

he has a lot of siblings, he knows what he’s doing

i feel like he’s less aggressive about it than some of the other men, but he’s gonna tell you you’re dumb for getting sick at least 2 times

he genuinely tries to be super sweet when you’re not feeling well, so give him a break

cooks you lots of his mom’s family recipes (how’d he find the ingredients?? we don’t know how, but he did)

you’re gonna eat every meal he makes you or you’re gonna get force-fed

carries you everywhere, even if you don’t ask him to

SO MUCH HAIR STROKING

he loves to pet your head until you fall asleep

expect lots of sleepy cuddles

definitely contracts whatever you had, so expect to get a whiny Bill that wants you to take care of him

- [ BABE HEFFRON ]

PANICS LIKE BUCK BUT EVEN WORSE

constantly has Roe checking on you, making sure that you’re getting better

will indeed rub your back while you throw up, and even hold your hair back if necessary

he’s constantly moping because he wants cuddles and kisses, but he knows he can’t have any until you’re not sick anymore

he’s surprisingly calm on the outside, but on the inside he’s panicking because he’s so worried

brings you tonssss of extra blankets that he collected from the other replacements

this man brings in the whole battalion to help you get better, he’s out here begging everyone for supplies

even though you’re sick, he’s still gonna hold your hand

sorry, but he needs at least a little affection

get ready to be absolutely smothered when you’re no longer sick

- [ JOE LIEBGOTT ]

he’s not as aggressive about it as he would be if you got hurt, but expect lots of teasing

he’s gonna call you a dumbass at least once, okay?

will NOT leave you alone for a single SECOND

he’s worried that you’re gonna start throwing up when he leaves the room and then choke to death on your own vomit

gives you all of his food, even if you don’t want it

don’t try and act like you’re not sick, he will yell at you (he’s not playing around)

gets so frustrated with you when you won’t take your medicine, so he has to have Roe give it to you

he doesn’t like being super soft in front of the guys, but if you have the chills, he will not hesitate to cuddle you

he’ll literally let you get away with ANYTHING if you’re sick

like i’m not even joking, he’d literally let you use his shirt as a tissue if you needed to

- [ CARWOOD LIPTON ]

SO SOFT

yells at the guys to be quiet so that you can get more sleep

if a trooper isn’t whispering while you’re trying to sleep, no one will ever find that man’s body

LOTSSS of forehead kisses

will not let you do anything

not even if you bring up the time that he got a pneumonia (he just glares at you until you yield)

he makes sure that everyone treats you with extra caution, especially if it’s hard for you to walk

he gets soooo worried if you have a coughing fit

he just panics whenever it happens while rubbing your back and offering you water

lets you burrow into his chest while you rest

- [ GEORGE LUZ ]

tries to make jokes so that he can help you feel better

i feel like George has absolutely no idea what the hell he’s doing

asks Roe a million questions about what he should do to help you

if this isn’t your first time being sick around him, then he’s already gonna have a set plan on how to help you get better

steals a lot of extra food for you, especially hershey bars

whines that he doesn’t get any kisses now that you’re sick

he thinks it’s his job to take care of you, so he feels really bad that there’s not much he can do

he does get supplies from replacements, but unlike Babe, he steals them

will kiss you regardless of if you’re contagious or not

now you have to take care of him while he whines and complains about how stuffy his nose is

- [ DONALD MALARKEY ]

so SOFT UGHHHHH

he takes over your duties as well as his own just so that you get enough time to recover

brings lots of blankets, the softest ones he could find in the whole entire town

holds your hand a lotttt

he spoons you (which is rare because Don Malarkey = little spoon) when your sleep schedules match up, and he buries his head between your shoulders

omg if you have something bad like a pneumonia he’s literally so scared that you might die

like you wake up to him sobbing into your back, and when you turn around he just tells you to go back to sleep

but you just pull his face close, and tell him you aren’t going anywhere and that you’ll never leave him

he feels a lot better after that, and he does his best when taking care of you

he’s literally so happy once you’ve fully recovered that he picks you up and twirls you around

- [ JOHNNY MARTIN ]

acts like he’s annoyed that you got sick, but he’s secretly very concerned

he makes some very passive aggressive comments at first, but once he realizes how awful you look, he feels really bad

starts treating you like a princess after that

he keeps you slightly isolated from the rest of the men, as he doesn’t want you to accidentally give them whatever you have

brings you anything you could ever need, you’ll never have to take a step out of bed

checking to make sure your fever is gone

he restrains himself from PDA during this time, so expect absolutely no kisses until you get better

he tells you that it’s your “punishment” for getting sick

if you tell him you’re sore or something aches, expect a massage

give him a kiss for all his efforts afterwards, you’ll see a rare smile cross his face

- [ SKIP MUCK ]

like George, he tells you jokes to help you get better

unlike George, however, he tells you shitty ones so that you’ll get better faster because absolutely no one wants to listen to them

not gonna lie to you, this little bastard is not very helpful

Malarkey and Penkala tell Roe about it once Skip finally realizes how bad your illness is getting

he feels really awful later on because he realizes if he told Eugene sooner then you wouldn’t be lying in bed, coughing your lungs out

spoils you after that because of how bad he feels

he won’t give you his own food, but he will steal extra meals for you

honestly he’s more mad that you’re sick than you are, he wants you to get better IMMEDIATELY

tells you about his day immediately after you’ve woken up from your nap

expect cuddles, kisses, hugs, and other physical affection he should not be giving you while you’re ill

- [ LEWIS NIXON ]

literally offers you alcohol at the beginning of your sickness

the man can’t even take care of himself, how the hell is he gonna take care of you

asks Winters a lot of questions, to the point where it’s basically Richard taking care of you

it’s fine, they come as a pair

lets you sleep in his office while he does whatever he has to do

gives you his most expensive blanket to keep warm

is actually very worried even though he puts on quite the humorous facade

he just wants you to be okay

he eventually calms down though, he knows a virus wont take you away from him

not even a war or an entire ocean could, so what’s the flu gonna do?

- [ FRANK PERCONTE ]

he probably thinks you’re sick because you forgot to brush your teeth ONE TIME after you were drunk

germaphobe to the MAX

sorry, but you’re not gonna see this man until you are in 100% healthy condition

he feels bad about it, but he doesn’t want whatever you have

he doesn’t believe Doc when he says it’s not contagious, which is stupid because Roe is literally a MEDIC-

i’m not even joking, this man will literally have Luz deliver you the hershey bars he wanted to give you

he’s basically quarantined you and there’s nothing you can do about it

everyone’s like: .... bruh... isn’t this a little too far???

but he’s just like: i have no idea what you’re talking about

it’s fine, he makes it up to you by literally smothering you once you’re all better

- [ SHIFTY POWERS ]

KING OF CODDLING

practically waits on you hand and foot for an entire week

blows on your soup to cool it down before feeding it to you

he’s scared you’re gonna burn your tongue, then you’ll be sick AND have a burnt tongue

lets you clutch on to his hand when your chills get worse

probably thinks you’re dying, which just makes him FREAK OUT

brushes your hair off your face when your fever is running high

always has a wet washcloth to place on your forehead

lets you burrow into his coat after your fever goes away

he rests his head on top of yours when you’re bundled up in his coat

- [ EUGENE ROE ]

HOVERS LIKE A GODDAMN MOTHER HEN

constantly taking your temperature, giving you more blankets, feeding you, making sure you stay hydrated, etc.

OH AND YOU BETTER STAY HYDRATED

throws a hissy fit that you got sick because he needs you to take better care of yourself

not extremely touchy because he doesn’t want to catch whatever you have, which is like actually painful for him

constantly giving you tea & other hot beverages to drink

spoon feeds you because he doesn’t want you to lift a single finger

will tie you to the bed to make sure that you rest

don’t test him, he’s serious about your speedy recovery

“mon amour, you need to rest or else i won’t be able to give you kisses”

- [ BULL RANDLEMAN ]

gentle giant

makes sure you’re eating lots of healthy food (or the healthiest you can get) & staying hydrated

does tasks like cleaning your bayonet and your gun so you can go to bed earlier

lots of forehead kisses when you wake up from sick naps

instructs all of the replacements on how to take care of you while he’s away

they’re actually very helpful and you treat them all like your kids

when Bull comes back and sees this, he thinks it’s adorable

but then he realizes that you’re sick and they might catch the same thing you have if they get to close

spends a lot of time shooing people out of your room

rubs your knuckles to lull you to sleep

- [ RONALD SPEIRS ]

oh god, he tries to act like it’s all good but he’s falling apart because you just look so fucking tired

SUPER SOFT with you

carries you to bed, even though you try to tell him you’re fine

steals a tonnnn of supplies for you, especially the finest quality cough drops he could find

whispers to you how much he cares about you when he thinks you’re asleep

spoiler alert: you’re not, but the stuff he says makes you feel so warm and fuzzy inside that you don’t want him to stop

thinks he has a superior immune system and that he won’t get sick, so it doesn’t matter if he kisses you or not

oh and he DEMANDS kisses even though you’re sick, he just can’t live without ‘em

he didn’t get sick, and you’re still bitter about it

he’s so doting, it’s the only time you’ll ever see him this soft

- [ FLOYD TALBERT ]

he’s so smug that you’re sick and he’s not

it’s genuinely annoying, but you get back at him by revoking his kisses because you’re sick

he is super bitter and will not talk to you for the first few days

around the third day, he’ll start to cave in, and he’ll be spending every waking moment at your side

it’s mostly him whining that you won’t give him any smooches, but he’s actually quite helpful when you ask him to get you things

finds only the BEST materials for his baby to get better

he will settle for nothing less

he has Trigger stay with you when he’s gone, just so that he knows you’re safe

when you’re finally better, he will not stop kissing you on the lips

the other men keep telling you two to get a room, but he genuinely does not care... he just tells them they’re all jealous

- [ JOE TOYE ]

the most surprisingly doting out of all the men

constantly asking you “are you okay? can i get you anything?”

will beat up anyone that tries to take your extra food or blankets

very wholesome, spoons you when you sleep

lots of neck and shoulder kisses because he cannot kiss you on the lips

constantly making sure you’re comfortable

not at all opposed to giving you piggyback rides so that you can get to places faster

plus, it’s a good opportunity for him to show off his muscles and strength to you

gives you all of his chocolate

kisses your nose because it’s red

- [ RICHARD WINTERS ]

tucks your blanket around you so that you are all cozy when you sleep

tries to dote on you as much as possible, but it’s very hard with his busy schedule sometimes

also lets you sleep in his office, you just have a big pile of blankets and pillows

no one else comes in there anyways so like... who cares?

does basic things that you don’t feel like doing (ex: brushing your hair) for you

assigns a paratrooper to look over you when he’s gone

it’s usually Tab, but sometimes it’s someone else

the only person he doesn’t assign is Nix, and that’s because Nix is a human train wreck

anyways, he wants lots of snuggles in your pile of blankets

i hate the way this turned out, but i’m not gonna beat myself up over it because i tried. i hope you liked this at least, sorry i’m a little slow with my requests right now. there’s a lot going on, but i’m trying my best. i should be posting a lot more in the next couple days! thank you for your patience and for your request 💕

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masseurrsvp · 10 months

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imnotevenhere9 · 3 years

Note

If you're still doing Matchups, could I please get one for Lotr and The Hobbit please? Thanks so much!

🌱 She/They Nonbinary // Bisexual // Autistic and Chronically Ill with a bonus Anxiety Disorder // 18 years old at the moment

🌱 I know a lot of Home Remedies and Superstitions for like no reason. For instance, did you know that Raspberry Tea helps with Menstrual Pain, or that knocking on wood invokes the protection of the tree spirit and that’s why it’s said to give you luck? I don’t know why I know that, but I do.

🌱 Winning a fight is on my bucket list, but it has to be for a good reason. I’m not one to just pick fights for the sake of fighting, and I’m actually pretty conflict-averse, so I need to actually have a solid reason for throwing hands. But I’ve always wanted to do it for some reason.

🌱 I often get the inexplicable urge to bake something, so my loved ones just kinda end up with surprise brownies and zucchini bread at random. This habit has only worsened over Quarantine, of course.

🌱 I really like studying Witchcraft for some reason. The first spell I ever performed was a Healing Spell to help my friend who was sick with Crohn's Disease. Thirty minutes after performing the ritual, I got a text saying he felt a lot better and he was released from the hospital a couple days later, so I guess it must’ve worked. 😁

🌱 My love language is definitely gift giving. I’m pretty cheap, but I’m also an artist, so when push comes to shove I’ll just make something for someone when I like them. I pay very close attention to what people like because it gives me more ideas on how to interact with them. I’m essentially a large, flightless Crow. You were nice, so you get something shiny. But though I like giving gifts to others, I’m not very materialistic at all. I prefer to be practical when it comes to things, and I get very nervous when spending money.

🌱 I LOVE going outside and getting messy. Playing in the mud, getting soaked in the rain, I’m the type to go outside and come back home covered in dirt and twigs. It’s just really fun to me.

🌱My Dad’s a really good cook and I seem to have inherited that gene. He actually has me make dinner whenever we’re having eggs because I always cook them better than he does.

🌱 I’ve always wanted to be a really good gardener. My dream house is just covered in flowers and plants and such. I want to live in a Greenhouse, basically.

🌱 I have a habit of giggling to myself just by remembering something funny that happened, even if it was a couple years ago. I also laugh when I do something stupid, because I find my flaws and shortcomings funny for the most part. I love to laugh with people, but never at them.

🌱 You know the sort of “Girl Next Door” trope? That’s my type. Like the guy in the dorm just down the hall, or the girl in my neighborhood who I casually flirt with. I’m a sucker for cute little interactions like that, so it’s not too much of a surprise that I always fall for people like that. I never forget people I meet on the road, and often find myself hoping to meet up with them again someday.

🌱 I know way too much about Spirits and Fae. My favorite book is called ‘The Encyclopedia of Spirits’ and it shows you how to contact and interact with a ton of different deities and spirits, and I’m addicted to reading it. It’s the best.

🌱 I’m basically like a tiny, less-impressive Aragorn. I love travelling on foot, getting messy outside, I was kind of a Horse Girl as a kid ngl, I’ve always wanted to be a knight or king of some sort, chances are that I haven’t bathed in awhile, and I too would pine for a hot elf girl for literal years on end.

🌱 I always have to have some sort of weight on me to feel comfortable, because of my Autism. That usually takes the form of a large backpack stuffed with books and snacks, or a big jacket. However, my muscles are always pretty stiff and achy, so that does kinda backfire too.

🌱My closest friends say I give off “Dwobbit” vibes. That’s a ½ Dwarf and ½ Hobbit btw. I’m around 4’ 10” tall, I don’t shave, I love crafting and art, I live in the Mountains, I’m tomboyish but I also love gardening and can be a bit of a homebody, I love going barefoot, etc.

🌱 I really love History, Folklore, Mythology and Fairy Tales. My favorite is the Irish myth of Oisín in Tir Na Nog. Look it up if you don’t know it, it’s a fantastic story. But I also appreciate myths from all sorts of different cultures, like the myth of Annapurna in India or the tale of Princess Kaguya in Japan. Did you know that in Mesopotamian Mythology, Nonbinary People were said to be given the gift of prophecy and magic by the goddess Ishtar? And that a recurring figure in Slavic Folklore is the Snake King, who’s just a big ol’ snake with a doofy looking crown? I love it.

🌱 I’m an Aquarius, INFP and 4w5 if that means anything. For reference, characters who are also 4w5 INFPs include Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice), Wirt (Otgw), Frankenstein’s Monster, Luna Lovegood (HP), Napstablook (Undertale), The Phantom of the Opera, and Celeste from Animal Crossing. That kinda tells you a lot about me, doesn’t it?

🌱 I’ve been growing my hair out, so it’s getting pretty long too. It’s always messy, and I both use a lot of conditioner and it naturally curls when wet, so I basically end up having a very fluffy mane with a lot of stray hairs and weird curls. Also, fun fact, I never learned how to braid because I’ve only really made friends with boys and I have very poor hand-eye coordination when it comes to such things. And my hair is so thin and fluffy that it’s impossible to tame anyways, so the best I can do is put it in a ponytail, since I’m basically incapable of doing anything fancier than that. When worst comes to worse, I have plenty of hats though.

🌱 I have really pale skin that’s always covered in moles, freckles (especially on my arms) and lots of scabs. It’s also getting warmer out, so chances are that I have a farmer’s tan. I have blue eyes and glasses.

🌱 I have a habit of seeing shadows move out of the corners of my eyes, frequently mistaking them for people or animals, but when I turn to look there’s nothing there. I’ve gotten my eyesight checked multiple times, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary, so it’s either a lack of sleep, or the Fae are getting antsy with me. Probably the former of course, but part of me would like to believe the

Oof, sorry that description was so long! I really hope you don't mind. Thanks so much in advance!!

A/n: I made it really wholesome (at least in my eyes), so I hope you like it! ^_^

Masterlist • Prompts • S/o match ups • Taglist

S/o from The Hobbit: Kili!

will take your hands and kiss all the moles and freckles when you two are alone

listens to you talking about Fairy Tales while hugging you from behind and plays with your hair

likes to fall asleep with you on his chest, so he can plent small kisses on your head

loves everything you bake, it doesn’t matter if he heard of it or not, he always gets so excited to try what you baked

gives the best massages. He will prepare a bubble bath, help you stretch, whatever makes your achy muscles hurt less

small peaks behind your shoulder when you're

S/o from LOTR: Arwen!

adores your hair. Like literally. She loves to braid them, brush them, run her fingers through them, basically everything you can think of

please share everything you know and learnes about Home Remedies and Superstitions. She loves listening to you talk, it doesn't matter if she already knows all of it, she just wants to listen to you talk about it

your random giggles? In her eyes the cutest thing ever. Just hearing you giggling brightens her day so much

will probably go outside and get messy with you, because she loves to see you happy

gets shy when you give her gifts, she loves them all so much tho

will get you different books about Witchcraft, so you can learn and practice more!

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seasonsofeverlark · 4 years

Text

Menorah Lights, Blessing of Life

Author: @alliswell21

Prompt: I would LOVE to see some Everlark Hanukkah fluff there’s way to little out there right now. [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: T - for non-explicit: adult situations, childbirth description, and breastfeeding.

Canon typical violence. Vague reference to a war zone/conflict.

This work contains religious and cultural imagery and traditions. There’s also some use of the Yiddish language, as well as some Hebrew. There will be a glossary and more in-depth commentary at the end of the fic, when this piece gets cross posted to AO3 in a few days. Peeta makes a quick reference to 1 Samuel 1:27 towards the end part of the fic.

Author’s Note: Thank you, Anon, for this prompt. I have to be honest, and disclose I’ve never witnessed a Hanukkah celebration personally, and most of the events depicted in this story concerning the festival is a product of hours of research. I apologize for any inaccuracies or if I’ve inadvertently misrepresented any cultural or religious aspect of the holiday.

Extensive thanks to @rosefyrefyre, who was kind enough to beta read, spell check my Hebrew, direct me to some great sites to aid my research, and serve as the best resource for Judaism accuracy I could’ve asked for! Rose, I always learn something from my interactions with you. I’m grateful for your willingness to share your knowledge.

***Hannah: Hebrew origin. Means: ‘grace’/‘favor’; attributed meaning: ‘He (God) has favoured me with a child’.***

Happy Hanukkah to those celebrating the holiday!

————-

The house is reverently quiet, despite being crammed to the gills with all our family and friends.

Peeta checks his watch nervously for the fifth time in ten minutes. He’s so rigid, I know his leg will bother him so much tonight, he’ll take hours to fall asleep.

I smile at him, making a mental note to warm some lavender infused oils to massage the stump of his leg. It’s the least I can do for my husband.

Peeta lost his lower leg protecting me from shrapnel during an attack while deployed to the Middle East some 16 years ago. I was rendered deaf in my left ear on the same attack…we are a perfect match, my husband and I; he has to wear a prosthetic leg to get around, I have to wear a hearing aid, and that doesn’t even begin to cover the burn marks and other scars we sustained in the service.

“I think we should…” he says quietly, motioning to the small table we placed by the window earlier.

I turn to my cousin, Johanna, and nod.

Jo winks at Peeta and shuts the lights off, while I pull back the curtains from the windows and tie them up, revealing a waning sunset over the rooftops of our neighborhood.

Peeta stands a pace behind me, transfixed by the slim line of flaming orange in the horizon being swallowed by deep purples and indigos of the falling night. It’s Peeta’s favorite color.

“Almost time, Katniss!” he whispers, giddy, placing a match box on the table at the foot of the menorah.

There’s a soft buzz behind us, which means everybody is shuffling closer to the window. Outside, the world is busy with cars driving by, splashing the dirty slosh of melted snow accumulated on the ground from days ago; a dog barks somewhere in the distance, and a couple of people hustle home; but the thing that really catches my eyes, is that in a few houses down the street, candlelights start to flicker to life on windows and front porches, announcing the start of Hanukkah.

“Should—should we do it?” Peeta asks leaning closer to the window pane, clearly seeing the other houses already lighting their candles.

“There’s still a sliver of sun. They just can’t see it because they’re facing our way, against it.” I mutter back.

This is Peeta’s first Hanukkah as a host, so he’s a little eager. In fact, my beautiful husband was beside himself when everything fell into place for us to host tonight’s celebration. If he could’ve gotten his way, we’d have everyone over to light the menorah the whole eight days of the festival. But, we are expecting the arrival of our very own little miracle any day now, so hosting the first day was a very generous compromise with our family.

The thought warms me inside, and I caress my protruding stomach absentmindedly, staring at the darkening sky.

The sun finally sinks. “Now!” I grin at my other half.

Peeta grins back, handing me the candles. Two of them, to be precise; long and blue. If my Tatte —my father— were here, he would’ve insisted we used olive oil and wicks instead, but it’s only Peeta’s first Hanukkah leading, and he’s so nervous about the whole thing already…candles are perfectly acceptable.

First, I place the shamash— “Shamash means helper candle, Katniss,” Tatte would explain— in the middle peg of our menorah, so it sits higher than the rest. Then, I place the one other candle in the rightmost holder, to signify today is the first night of the Festival of Lights.

Peeta passes me the matches, and I light the shamash. I smile at him, encouragingly, and mouth the words: “Your turn,”

He takes a deep breath, wiggling his fingers at his sides, and then starts reciting the first blessing: “Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam, Asher kid-shanu bi-mitzvo-tav vi-tzee-vanu, Li-had-leek ner shel Chanukah.”

His Hebrew isn’t perfect, but he recites the whole prayer exactly as we practiced.

My mother, who’s standing with Peeta’s family, translates quietly, to not disrupt too much, “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to kindle the Chanukah light.”

Peeta waits a moment, and then recites the second prayer: “Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam, Shi-asa nee-seem la-avo-teinu, Ba-ya-meem ha-haim baz-man ha-zeh.”

Again, my mother translates, “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who performed miracles for our forefathers in those days, at this time.”

Peeta’s blue eyes shine joyfully in the dim of night.

“Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam, Sheh-he-che-yanu vi-kee-yimanu vi-hee-gee-yanu laz-man ha-zeh.”

He finishes the third blessing, which we only say on the first night, with utmost reverence, and holds my gaze for only a second.

My mother translates this prayer as well, “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has granted us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this occasion.” She explains this one we only say once, during the first day, but the first two, we recite every night.

I take the shamash from its holder and tip the flame into the wick of today’s candle, so it starts the mitzvah of the night. After the light has been kindled, we —the ones in attendance who speak Hebrew— sing Ha-nerot Halalu together.

When we finish, my sister, Primrose, starts singing Maoz Tzur, and Peeta turns puppy-dog eyes on me, because he loves my singing.

I chuckle ruefully before opening my mouth and letting the lyrics spill like second nature. The rest of the attendees join in singing, and suddenly everyone is participating in some way. When the song ends, another one starts, and the atmosphere grows animated and joyful the longer it goes. As it should!

Peeta’s brothers came with their families, so he goes to them to chat. My mother has been sitting with them, explaining the proceedings, since it’s the first time they’ve joined us for Hanukkah.

The candlelight flickers from the menorah, the only light in the room, just as we finish another song, and then Uncle Haymitch staggers into the middle of the floor, shoving his hands into his pockets. The children peer up with interest, because most of them have known Haymitch long enough to guess what’s to come.

Haymitch moves his arms just a fraction, and all the kids slip out of their seats like an exhale, and then, the paunchy, ol’ grump is throwing small, shiny, gold disks up towards the ceiling, crowing: “Gelt! Gelt! Gelt for everyone!”

“I think he believes he’s some kinda middle-aged, Jewish Oprah!” Blight, Johanna’s husband, cackles somewhere behind me, as the children descend like locusts on the chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil scattered all over the room.

Peeta encourages his younger nephews to get in on the fun.

Between all three of our siblings, Peeta and I have seven nephews— two of them are teenagers— and one niece.

The adults shake their heads and smile from the sidelines, watching the children in merriment.

When all the gelt has been collected from the floor, Peeta asks the children if they would rather: eat, play dreidel, or hear a story. Since the oldest child in attendance is 8½, the kids settle on a story pretty quick.

I sink into the cushions of our plushest chair to watch my husband corral the little ones onto the rug for their story; one of my hands rests lazily on my heavily pregnant belly, while I hold a half eaten sugar cookie in the other one.

“So…who can tell me what we’re celebrating for the next eight days?” Peeta starts.

There’s a soft chorus of kiddy voices calling “Hanukkah!”

“That is right!” Peeta agrees, his eyes are wide, excited, merry, “and Hanukkah is a very important party, because it reminds us of the Miracle of Lights and the victory of the Sons of Israel over the mean ol’ gentiles—“

“Mamme says gentiles aren’t ‘all’ bad!” cries out Bekka, Johanna and Blight’s little girl, who looks like a carbon copy of her mother, except with long, wavy hair.

“Um…you’re right, I should’ve said ‘Greek invaders’ instead of gentiles…my bad—”

“Uncle Peeta…” one of our nephews— on Peeta’s side— blinks owlishly at him, “What’s a gentile?”

“Non-Jewish people,” says Asher, one of Prim’s twins.

“Oh…like Muggles are non-magic folk?” asks another of the Mellark boys.

“I guess so,” answers the other twin, Aspen.

“I don’t think we are Jewish,” comments one of Peeta’s nephews, turning inquisitive blue eyes to my husband and then to his own parents, “Are we?”

“No, buddy, you aren’t a Jew—“

“Uncle Haymitch says gentiles are helpless,” interrupts Aspen, shaking his head sadly, “He says the goyish thing gentiles do is putting mayo in their pastrami sammiches! So, if neither of you don’t put mayo in your pastrami, then you’re alright. You’re mishpachah, Bran!”

“Um…what does that mean?” asks Bran.

“We’re your mishpachah, right, Mamme?” inquires Asher.

“It means ‘family’,” explains Prim, making the Mellark boys look relieved, and even proud.

“Are you a gentile too, Uncle Peeta?” asks Asher, “Uncle Haymitch says you used to be his favorite Shabbos Goy of all times before you married Auntie Katniss.”

I almost choke on my cookie.

Peeta wheezes out a tiny chuckle, but is interrupted by my enraged sister.

“Boys!” Prim rushes from her chair, her daughter half asleep in her lap; she dumps the toddler into her husband’s arms to stand in front of the twins with her hands on her hips. “That is not nice! What have I said about repeating all the mishegas Uncle Haymitch says?”

“Not to…” the twins mumble contritely.

“Oy! I’m sitting right here, Sunshine!” Haymitch calls out. “Plus, kinder wisdom,” he pronounces it the Yiddish way, like the start of kindergarten, “it’s still wisdom!”

The twins are 7, but they can be a menace and clever to boot.

Haymitch continues, “Everybody knows the Boy used to be pretty helpful back in the day. I was almost sad when Sweetheart finally snatched him up, despite it being the smartest thing she’s ever done,”

“Haymitch…” I ground a low warning.

It’s a well known fact I kept digging my heels in against Peeta’s subtle advances for years, despite having feelings for him myself; I’m grateful my beautiful husband persevered though, because looking at him now, I can confidently say that our marriage, our family, would’ve happened anyway, despite my deep seated fears, the physical and mental toll being in a war zone took on us both, and all the heartbreak in between…

Unlike my mother, Peeta did not convert to Judaism in order to marry me. He did that on his own, way before I agreed to make our odd relationship official. I tried to persuade him from converting though— he does love Christmas and bacon— but again, he was committed to our faith with an iron will only the grave can quell.

“Eh!” Haymitch waves me off, “Nobody can win with you girls. Not even kvelling about one of your husbands!”

I sink deeper into my chair, sufficiently mollified. The old man can gush all about Peeta all he wants, as long as he doesn’t comment on me.

But Haymitch has a big mouth; he used to give me a hard time for my apparent ‘prickly personality’, often telling me I was so surly, I was practically gornisht helfn—beyond help—and once, he even said, I was as charming as a slug. I retorted he was probably looking at a mirror, and that was the end of that.

When Peeta started hinting at wanting more out of the casual arrangement we’ve had since the Army, and to my chagrin, two more suitors sprung out of nowhere, Haymitch had the gall to tell me that before Peeta, I was as romantic as dirt. Peeta gave him an earful for that one, though. It was glorious seeing Haymitch properly chastised by his favorite Shabbos Goy.

I giggle at the memory.

I finally relented a couple of years ago, letting my fears go. Haymitch was the first to congratulate me when I announced I was dating Peeta, like a normal couple. My uncle fixed me with a stare that said he expected me to really try, because this boy was a true catch, or as he called him then, “a mensch if he ever saw one.”

I happen to agree.

I sigh, massaging my ribs where the baby is digging its tuchis in.

Haymitch gets away with a great deal of things on the simple account that he was the only person who actually accepted, and welcomed our mother into our family, when she married our father. Everyone else called her an opinionated shiksa behind my parents’ backs, probably thanks to my Bubbe…dear old Grandma really disliked the idea of my father marrying a gentile girl, despite being clear as day how much they loved each other.

My sister glares at Haymitch too, then turns to her sons, “It’s the first day of Chanukah, nu?” The boys nod in affirmative, “Then be good, so Uncle Peeta can finish the story—“

“But, Mamme…we know the story!”

Prim gives them The Look and shuts them up right away. “Bannock, Graham, and Bran don’t know the story. They’re our guests, and we are called to be hospitable to everyone, right?”

I stare at Prim with mild amusement. She’s such a MOM!

“Yes, Mamme.”

I wonder if I’ll be able to master ‘the stare’ as well as my baby sister has?

Prim told me once, that everything she knows about mothering, she learned from the years in which I took care of her, after our father died, and our mother fell into a debilitating depression that almost killed us all from starvation and hebetude.

I have mixed feelings about that assessment, first, because: At first I was just trying to keep our situation hidden from others, so I made sure Prim and I were clean and presentable for school, that all homework was made on time, that we studied our Torah lessons, and that we attended Hebrew school without missing a class. I made sure Prim ate at least once a day, even if that meant I went without.

There were things I couldn’t provide for my sister, simply because I didn’t know how, and when the pantry was empty, I started secretly raiding the trash containers behind the stores in our neighborhood.

I was 11 then.

That’s when the first and only interaction with Peeta— or as I knew him then: the baker’s son— occurred before the Army.

Peeta had been watching me steadily lose weight and figured something wasn’t right. Then he saw how I dove out of his folks’ bakery’s garbage container and emerged empty handed, because trash had already been collected.

Instead of sneering, bullying me or calling the police, Peeta gave me two, fresh loaves of bread— the chiefest of foods in our culture— and thanks to his generosity, I figured out how to keep Prim, mother and myself fed when money was tight, hunting squirrels and little birds, long enough for my mother to find the strength to get the help she needed to get better.

Secondly, in my adult life, I’ve learned to appreciate our mother’s position. She had a really hard time with life in general. Her family turned their back on her when she converted to Judaism, yet people in our community mistrusted her because of my grandma’s own prejudice, the fact that my mother was a nurse and every now and then her hospital wouldn’t (or couldn’t) honor her religious freedom to observe the Shabbat didn’t help her case. People started trusting her after they saw her care for the sick in the community, often paying from her own pocket for their treatments.

Peeta never struggled fitting in with my family. Then again, he’s so sweet and friendly with anyone, always so happy and ready to lend a hand…why everyone in our community loves him, and welcomed him with open arms as one of us. Sometimes it’s almost impossible to picture my loving, sweet husband as a seasoned Army veteran, who’s seen his share of destruction and death…then again, maybe it is because he’s seen humanity at its worst that he makes the extra effort to stay a pacifist and he chooses to show The Lord’s love unto others.

“Sorry, Peeta, please continue with the story. You’re doing a lovely job!” says my sister.

I chance a glance at my husband, and see the mirth in his bright, blue eyes.

“Thank you Prim,” he says, turning back to the boys, with wonder in his voice. “But, I was thinking, and this might be the best idea I ever had! What if we let the boys tell the story of Hanukkah tonight, since it’s true, they know it better than I do? They are incredibly smart young men!”

“Avadeh!” exclaims Haymitch from his spot.

The twins wiggle with excitement, and both of them turn eager, hazel eyes to their mother, seeking approval.

Prim takes a deep breath and nods.

Both boys turn their bronze haired heads back to Peeta, enthusiastically.

“Alright, go on then, tells us what happened!” Peeta encourages.

Asher starts, “The brave heroes, called the Maccabees, kicked out the Greek gentiles that wanted to make the people of Israel pray to their gentile gods! Then the priests came to ‘re-medicate’ the Holy Temple—“

“Rededicate!” Thom, Prim’s husband, corrects from the back of the room, but the boys are on a roll now.

“‘Redadecate’ the Holy Temple, by lighting the menorah. So, they looked all over the place, but found only one jar of ‘puridified’ oil—“

“Purified!”

“Yes, what Tatte said! They only found enough of the good oil, to light the menorah for one day!”

Asher pauses for effect, while all the adults react to the suspense accordingly, gasping and murmuring.

Aspen continues the narration after a second.

“At first, the priests thought: oh no! We don’t want to light the menorah for only one day, it needs to burn all the time to clean all the filth the Greeks left behind, so we can praise Adonai again!”

Hushed voices comment their approval.

The other twin picks up the story. “But they decided, that even one day, was better than none at all, so they used that little bit of oil, and fired up the lamp, and the lights burned for eight times straight!”

“Eight days…” corrects Thom.

“Eight days straight!”

“It was a miracle!”

Everyone claps, excitedly.

“The priests had time to…” Asher cranes his neck, seeking his father in the crowded living room, and then smiles, enunciating his word with precision, “‘purify’ more olive oil, to add to the menorah from then on!”

“That’s why we celebrate Hanukkah every year! To remember how our people defended their freedom,”

“And won back the Holy Temple,”

“And The Lord accepted their effort with a miracle of lights!”

The whole room erupts in cheers and song. Everybody hugs each other in celebration.

After a moment, our auntie Effie calls out, “Oh what wonderful storytelling, Tattelles!” She rushes over to the twins and smacks loud, wet kisses, on both of the boys’ cheeks, leaving red lipstick all over their wincing faces.

The twins wipe their cheeks with the backs of their hands, and Prim just sighs, hugging her sons to her chest. “Well done, Asher. Well done, Aspen.”

Peeta pats them both on the head, and ever the attentive host, directs everyone to help themselves to the many treats he made.

“Is everything fried?” asks one of Peeta’s sisters-in-law.

“For the most part,” I hear my mother say, fondly. “To commemorate the miracle of the oil, traditionally, Hanukkah food is fried.” She explains, patiently. “Everything is delicious, and Peeta and Katniss made quite the spread.”

My mother busies herself, setting up a stack of napkins on the table where we placed all the food; she then serves latkes to the Mellarks.

Haymitch grabs her hand and pulls her to sit by me. “Come rest, sit with your daughter, enjoy the lights. I’ll shmooze the bakers now, nu!”

My mother comes to sit next to me. She smiles tiredly, “How are you feeling, zeeskeit?”

I grin, she’s using the same term of endearment Tatte used to call us. It means ‘sweetheart’.

“I’m alright. Just a little tired. My back is killing me and I think I have gas, ‘cause my belly keeps rumbling and tensing up.”

My mother arches a dark blonde eyebrow, “Maybe the baby is on the way?”

“I suppose that could be a possibility,” I shrug. I’m 6 days shy of my due date, but the doctor says I’m healthy, and he expects no complications, whatsoever, plus first time mothers can be early.

Thom brings out a dreidel to play with the children.

My toddler niece rubs her eyes grumpily— she’s got gray eyes, like my father did. Like mine. Mother and Prim are blonde and blue eyed, but I favored my father in appearance…I wonder who my child will like? I hope it’s a little of both Peeta and I— the girl clings to her father’s arm, watching her brothers and cousins spin the top, suspiciously. Once she realizes gelt is involved in the game, she perks up a little, and tries to spin the dreidel to mixed results.

Everyone sits around the children, eating latkes dipped in applesauce or sour cream; Peeta decided not to serve any meat tonight, so we could eat dairy products. Effie is dipping hers in salsa…what an odd woman!

Johanna is eating an entire block of cheese, noshing on it like a mouse.

Peeta brings me and my mother sufganiyot; he smiles sheepishly. “These were a hit.” He says, “they’ve already disappeared from the tray.”

I stare at him with wide eyes. “Why does that surprise you, babe? Your cooking is amazing!”

Peeta rubs the back of his head, bashful. “Eh, it would be embarrassing if the baker couldn’t handle jelly filled donuts, nu?” he whispers, kneeling in front of my chair.

“Nonsense,” I say equally quietly, “you are the most talented person I know.” I kiss him on the forehead, after pushing back the ashy waves of hair falling into his eyes.

I hope our child has wavy hair like Peeta does! Mine is boring…not so much the dark as ink color, but the way it’s so thick and straight, the only way to keep it up is in braid.

Peeta gazes at me with so much love, my heart skips a beat.

“Have I told you recently, just how grateful I am to have you as my wife, lover and partner in life?” He reaches up to caress my face, and suddenly the hubbub of the party fades, leaving us in a bubble of our own.

“I’m grateful too!” I say, curling my sugar coated fingers around his, cupping my cheek.

It’s a veritable miracle that Peeta and I are here today, married and with a child on the way.

We grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same schools, and frequented the same places; yet, despite crossing each other’s paths often, and outside the lone time with the bread when we were eleven, we never truly interacted with each other until we found ourselves deployed to the same base overseas.

Peeta enlisted in the Army fresh out of high school. I enlisted much later, when it became glaringly obvious that if I was going to pursue any higher education, it would have to be paid for by the military, since every penny Mother and I made, went straight into Prim’s Med school fund.

Prim took a couple of breaks from school while building her family, but she’s a pediatrician now, beloved by her patients and their parents.

Thom is in the field as well, as a Physical Therapist. He was Peeta’s PT for a while; that’s how him and my sister met. They married years before we did.

Call it chance or providence, Peeta and I had no idea we were in the same camp, until our names got chosen for some grunt duty I can no longer remember. We recognized one another instantly, and became very close friends while in the service. Close enough to share cots and knock boots when the itch was too unbearable to ignore. We discovered we had more in common than just our hometown, and then…the worst day of our lives happened, cementing our dependence on the other, like only tragedy can.

While on a mission, our unit got attacked. Our Commander, a burly man named Boggs, called for extraction while we ran for cover from a volley of bullets raining on us. In the confusion, Boggs stepped on a landmine that blew off both his feet.

I rushed to him, pulling him back to safety. I didn’t think of the shrapnel flying everywhere, but Peeta— who had located me a second earlier— did. He made it to me somehow, and shielded my body with his own, earning a mangled leg full of lead for his troubles.

Boggs was beyond medical help; the poor man bled to death in my arms in the transport back to base. Peeta was badly hurt, losing blood quicker than anyone in the transport could stomach. I tried to help him as best I could, wishing I had my mother’s touch or Prim’s cleverness; I placed a tourniquet on Peeta’s thigh. It saved his life, but cost him his leg.

It wasn’t until we arrived back in camp, and the adrenaline and terror left my body, that I was able to feel my own wounds. I had second degree burns in several places of my body; the fire and heat miraculously spared my face. Then, I noticed the ringing in my left ear wouldn’t go away, and when it did, no other sounds came in.

I was honorably discharged for my damaged ear, but I requested to stay close to my buddy, Peeta Mellark, until he was stable enough to go back home. When questioned about this, I simply replied, “We protect each other. Is what we do.”

Peeta was discharged too shortly after. We got shipped back home to America together, which is how we’ve been ever since.

Peeta and I survived against the odds.

It took us months and lots of counseling to be able to sleep through the night without waking up screaming.

It took him years to convince me it was okay to let my guard down around my heart. I was always so scared I’d lose him to some unseen danger, and like my mother, fall into such a deep depression I could harm any potential children we had together, because in my heart of hearts I knew Peeta was it for me.

It took us five, ten, fifteen years to be where we are at, and that in itself is a miracle I’m grateful for.

“Peeta, darling, the candles are almost out,” says Effie, who apparently is eager to turn the lights back on.

“Alright, let’s see…” I stand up to check just how consumed those candles really are, and as soon as I do, my incompetent bladder releases all the pee I have in my body, and then some. “Feh!”

My mother gasps and pushes Peeta back, who was still kneeling close by. “Katniss, your water just broke!”

“What?! Already? Whatdowedo?!” Peeta is frantic, practically jogging in place, hands hovering uselessly around my belly.

Effie screeches in a very uncharacteristic fashion. “Oh! What a big, big, big day this is, darlings! Katniss, doll, you might get to hold your very own bundle of joy in your arms on the first day of Hanukkah! What a blessing!”

“Well, first things first,” says my mother, going into nurse mode. “Everyone, calm down! This child is not about to drop just yet. Second, Katniss needs to get out of these clothes and into clean ones. Then we need to get you packed and ready to go to the hospital. Peeta, dear, you need to call the doctor, and let them know your wife’s water broke, and you’re heading to the hospital soon.”

“Okay! Yeah…on it!” says Peeta chewing nervously on his lower lip.

He reluctantly steps aside to make the call. By then, my sister is moving people around to get me through the room.

Delly, Peeta’s sister-in-law, comes from who-knows-where with an armful of towels to mop up the floor.

“Thank you,” I offer embarrassedly.

Delly waves me off, “Oh no, honey, don’t you worry about it. I know how these things go. You have more important stuff to think of right now. We will clean this place up, and probably call on grandma and grandpa Mellark, to let them know.”

I give her a hug, because she’s the nicest person I know, and barely hold back an ugly sob.

Peeta comes back from calling the doctor just as my mother is helping me into a pair of baggy sweatpants. Prim’s going through my bag triple checking what I packed, despite my protests that both Peeta and I have been checking on it every day for the last week.

“Everything is ready, Katniss. The doctor is on the way to the hospital. There’s a triage nurse already waiting for you, our paperwork is being processed as we speak, so all we have to do is sign it when we arrive, and Effie and Haymitch are taking over hosting duties from us.”

“Oh great!” I sigh, “you can say goodbye to all the wine in the house if those two are in charge,”

“Is that sarcasm I detect? That means the contractions aren’t even painful yet…” says Prim dryly. Then she and my mother giggle.

I glare at them, rubbing the back of my hips, my bones back there kind of burn.

Peeta seems confused and wisely keeps his mouth shut. He grabs the hospital bag I packed for me and the baby, a week ago, and shoulders a backpack for himself, he packed almost a month ago.

My mother rides with us to the hospital, and since everyone knows her and my sister there, I get extra pampered by the nursing staff.

My obstetrician, Dr. Aurelius, checks on me as soon as I’m put in the hospital gown; he’s a little concerned about my blood pressure, so the nurses keep an even closer eye on me. At 32 I’m not at any greater risk of things going wrong than any other mother-to-be, but this is my first child, so I endure their over prodding gratefully.

Labor itself goes quickly, only a couple of hours from the water breaking to the crowning. Peeta holds my hand through it all; he tends to me lovingly, feeding me ice chips, blotting sweat from my face and neck, whispering sweet nothings and encouragement into my ear, and when he’s not talking to me or the medical staff, he prays.

After surviving a war zone, second degree burns and a few broken bones, I think that giving birth is perhaps the least painful experience of all. Not in the literal sense of course— giving birth physically hurts like a mother!— but in the psychological-emotional sense. I’m going through this trial for love, with the expectation of meeting someone amazing in the end.

But when it’s time to push, a fear older than time itself chokes me up. “I can’t do this! Let the baby stay in my belly…I can keep the child safe here, please!”

“Sweetheart, look at me,” says Peeta cupping my face in his hands, “You are the bravest, most selfless person I know. I’m not denying how scary this is, bringing an innocent into the world, but you’re not alone…we have each other, and we will face this fear like we’ve faced any other fear, and we’ll beat it into dust!”

“Together?” My voice wavers.

“Together!” he vows.

“Katniss…the baby’s crowning,” says Dr. Aurelius, “This is it! On your next contraction, I need you to push real hard, alright?”

I nod, exhausted; Peeta squeezes my hand in his, and I squeeze right back.

“Here it comes!” I bear down with all my might and growl all the breath out of my lungs, and suddenly, the best sound in the world fills the delivery room: the meowling of my newborn reaches my ears.

“It’s a girl!” calls the doctor from between the stirrups holding my legs up.

The man holds the screeching child up, so we can see her, and my whole world shrinks to her tiny shape.

Peeta is crying.

I’m crying too!

My mother is somewhere in the background singing something I can’t quite catch, and everyone around is bustling to get my brand new baby girl cleaned up and measured. Then finally she’s placed on my chest, and my husband and I can’t stop staring and caressing her.

“Shalom, sheifale,” I sigh in contentment, kissing my baby’s forehead.

“Welcome, little one!” Peeta murmurs. Our daughter wraps her whole hand around her father’s index finger and holds fast to it.

Again, it feels like we are in this hermetic bubble, where only Peeta, myself, and now our newborn, exist. Meanwhile the doctor and nurses are still working on me, but that doesn’t matter. My family is finally whole, and that too is a miracle full of light!

“Mazel Tov, my dears!” says my mother, smiling at Peeta and me. “I’ll go tell the people in the waiting room the good news…do you have a name picked out already?” she asks tentatively, her face lit with happiness and relief.

“Hannah!” says Peeta right away. “For I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted my plea.” Peeta’s eyes widen, then he looks down at me sheepishly, “unless, you have something else in mind?”

“No!” I laugh, “Hannah is perfect!” I hold the babe higher on my bosom, and tilt her head towards my mother, “Hannah, say hello to Bubbie Lily, she’s my Mamme, and I am yours!”

My mother giggles, “Happy birthday, Hannah Mellark, and happy Hanukkah, zeeskeit.” My mother leans closer, and gives Hannah’s head a peck. “Next time I see you, there will be others with me…your mishpachah, who are eager to meet you, sheifale!”

“We’re almost done here, and you can see some of your family. But be mindful of visiting hours!” says Dr. Aurelius, pushing back from the instrument table.

We all say our thanks to the staff, and my mother goes to talk to our family in the waiting room. Peeta’s led to the nursery, to give Hannah her first bath. Once the baby is dressed and swaddled into a hospital blanket, Peeta snaps a couple of pictures of her with his smart phone and sends it to everyone one we know. The caption reads: “Hannah Mellark, because G-d favored us with a child!”

The nurse helping Peeta, takes two of those thin hats they give all the newborns, and fashions it into a single hat with a big bow on the front. Our daughter’s head will be warm and stylish.

Back in the room, Hannah latches onto my breast easily enough, and to our surprise opens her eyes, to show deep blue peepers, like her father’s!

“Look, Daddy, she’s got your eyes!“ I exclaim.

“Can she call me Tatte?” Peeta asks quietly, as if asking permission.

I nod, “Hannah, your Tatte gives the best hugs in the world!”

The visitors file in. My mother-in-law falls in love with Hannah, her first and only granddaughter. Peeta’s father tears up a little bit, and hugs his son, kissing his temple. I’ve never seen the Mellarks so happy and moved. A baby would do that, I guess.

After our siblings come to visit, Effie and Haymitch make a quick appearance. Haymitch holds Hannah the longest; he sings her a song in Hebrew, then says a blessing over her.

Effie pulls Peeta aside, “What we discussed…” she says demurely, smiling softly, and hands him a bag.

Since she already gave us practically half of Buy Buy Baby at our shower, I have no idea what else she could’ve gotten, but my husband’s entire demeanor lights up like fireworks when he peeks in the bag. He hugs Effie and thanks her profusely.

I fall asleep after a while.

When I wake up again, the room’s mostly dark, except for a soft, flickering light.

Hannah is not in her bassinet, so I sit up with a start, only to find the most wonderful scene in front of me: Peeta’s holding the babe by the window looking down the road. The blinds are open, and on the sill sits a child size menorah. The shamash is lit, but the day one candle is not.

“Peeta?” I call softly.

My husband turns, smiling, “You’re awake! We didn’t want to disturb you. You had a hard, busy day, but…” he shrugs, “It’s Hannah’s first Hanukkah, and I figured you wouldn’t wanna miss it,”

No, I wouldn’t.

I get up, gingerly, and shuffle towards my family.

I cock my head and study the candelabra, which looks suspiciously like the kind business owners put in their offices along their Christmas trees and other wintry decor to show how inclusive they are. This one is smaller than regular menorahs, made of plastic, with a cord sticking from the side which is plugged into the wall besides the window. The flickering light I thought at first to be a real flame, is just a small bulb with a candlelight effect.

“Where did you get an electric menorah?” I ask skeptically.

“Effie,” my husband blushes. “She said it was okay, as long as we lit a kosher menorah, which we did at home,” he says a little defensively, with a lot of pleading generously sprinkled in between.

My father would’ve frowned at the decidedly un-kosher menorah.

Reading my expression, my sneaky husband harrumps, “This is a hospital, Katniss. I don’t think they’ll be thrilled to find there’s an open flame in a room housing a newborn, no matter what holiday you’re celebrating.”

I sigh. He’s right. Safety protocols should be observed, and we did light a traditional menorah already; plus, this one is practically a toy for the baby…technically a Hanukkah gift.

I relax my stance. I wasn’t aware that my shoulders were so tense during that exchange.

“Fine,” I acquiesce, “show me how does the thing work?”

Peeta grins, looking at ease holding our daughter in one arm like a pro. No wonder he’s always our nephews’ and niece’s favorite uncle.

He pulls a couple of bulbs from his pants pocket, and holds them on his palm for me to peruse. “All you do is screw these in the small sockets, just like placing the candles in a regular menorah. Then, you press this button, and it lights up!” He points at a small button at the base of the toy.

I nod, accepting his explanation.

Hannah wiggles a bit in her father’s arm, then makes an aggravated noise. Peeta adjusts the child against his chest, and looks at me, expectantly.

“Hannah’s waiting, and she’s probably getting hungry. I should know, I’m her Tatte!”

I snort a reluctant laugh. The man can drive me crazy, in an endearing sort of way. How can I deny my family anything?!

We say the blessings together, then Peeta whispers all the ceremonial rules on lighting the candles to our baby.

Hannah has her fist wrapped around his finger again, so he picks up the pretend shamash with the same hand, and touches the tip of the bulb into the opening, so— according to him— Hannah is lighting the day one candle herself…symbolically.

He screws the bulbs in their right places, and switches the candlelight on.

I must admit, it’s not as tacky as I feared it would be. I make a mental note to let Peeta know I’m glad he thought of this, later…probably tomorrow.

We sing quietly, not to disturb anyone else on our floor. After the ceremony of the candles is done, we hold onto each other, watching the flickering lights, while Peeta narrates the story of the Maccabees to Hannah.

Everything is quiet after that; Hannah fusses once, so I take her into my arms, and sing a lullaby.

Peeta has been staring at me all night like I hung the moon in the sky. He gazes at our daughter like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen, and I’m sure my eyes reflect the same feelings as his.

“I wish I could freeze this moment, right now, and live in it forever.”

I smile up at him, who in turn is gazing at our daughter and me with adoration; my heart fills to bursting!

“I do too!” I stand on tiptoes, and kiss his cheek. “Happy Hanukkah, Peeta. Happy Hanukkah, Hannah.”

“Same to you too, sweetheart, and thank you Lord, for blessing our family with the miracle of life.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #winter #winter 2020 #alliswell21 #submission #prompt

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chaseatinydream · 4 years

Text

pirate king (76) || atz

Tortuga is not happy to have you back.

“You were the man who took our town leader hostage! You cannot simply just stride back onto port and walk here as if you have not just committed the gravest of sins!” A portly man dressed in velvet and gold waves so furiously that his expensive silk cravat has become stained with sweat. “You, hooligans, don’t ever come back to this town!”

Wooyoung simply shrugs and makes to pick his ear with his pinky, entirely without a care in the world. You kick him in the shin and he yelps, shying away.

“Say you’re sorry!”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” He protests, and Yeosang tilts his head back slightly in the middle of negotiations to fix Wooyoung with a glare so menacing you can practically see the darkness rolling off him. Wooyoung must feel the same sensation - of death stepping across his grave - because he shivers and rubs the back of his neck. “Okay, maybe I might have done a thing or two-”

“This man… utterly unbelievable!” The official continues to rant, and even the soldiers lined up behind him are starting to wince from how piercing his voice is. He jabs a finger at Wooyoung ferociously. “I respect you, Pirate King, but the disrespect this man has shown us! Breaking into the officials’ town headquarters! Knocking out the guards! Dragging the head of this town out of his chambers in his… in his sleepwear! Preposterous, I tell you!”

Hongjoong raises his hands, a calm smile on his face to placate the official. “I deeply apologise for my crew member’s behavior. It must have been a terrible experience, but I can assure you my crew regrets his actions and is extremely repentant about his behavior.”

You look dubiously at the supposedly repentant man.

“He sleeps naked.” Wooyoung whispers loudly into your ear, a cheeky smile decorating his face. You stare at him, and then shake your head. He’s incorrigible.

“However, I ask you to understand that the situation at hand was dire, and that we had no other choice in order to go after our captain. As thanks for letting this matter slide, we’ll compensate the town head appropriately.” Yeosang’s angelic smile is at full power, and for a second you’re almost blinded by the halo settling above his head. The bag of gold coins in his hand (polished by Wooyoung for the whole of last night as punishment) somehow seem dull in comparison. “I’m sure you won’t regret it.”

The official’s eyes are like magnets, drawn to the gold. You can almost see him licking his lips. “... compensate?”

“Very handsomely.” Yeosang shakes the bag once. The sound is more alluring than any symphony or sirens’ song to your ears. Apparently, that must be the how the official feels too, because his hand reaches out to touch it, before he jerks it back to his chest, coughing lightly. “Well then, I suppose it couldn’t hurt just to let it go just this once...”

A soldier behind the official rolls his eyes to heaven in exasperation.

“However! That man is not allowed to step foot into the town, and must stay on the ship at all times. This in nonnegotiable. Also,” Yeosang hands over the bag of gold, and the official beckons Hongjoong closer. “There have been... ah... rumors... among the townspeople... Royal Navy... searching for a woman.... bounty... alive... five thousand...”

You glance over at Wooyoung, who’s sulking miserably. “You kind of deserve it. Although... thanks for doing it, to get captain and I back.”

At your words, Wooyoung instantly brightens. “No problem! It was the most fun I had in weeks anyway!” You send him a flat look, intent on chiding him, but then your captain calls your name.

To your surprise, his lips are drawn into a thin line, and there is a furrow to his brow that definitely wasn’t there before. “Chin Hae, do you... remember ever encountering the Royal Navy before meeting us?”

Frowning, you shake your head. There’s tension would tight into his face, and you feel something in your stomach sinking. “No. Why?”

Hongjoong opens his mouth to answer, but then closes it with a sigh before he can say another word. He wears a fond smile as he ruffles your hair gently, lithe fingers carding through the strands. “No matter, this isn’t the place for it. Will you come see me in the captain’s cabin tonight? We have some pressing matters to discuss.”

When he walks away, the smile melts into a grim, worried look on his face.

>>>

“Your legs are starting to hurt?”

San’s expression is filled with concern as he crouches in front of you, gentle fingers kneading and massaging your calves with practiced movements. You nod quietly, watching him as he works. “Yeah. Honestly... the same thing that happened with my hand might be happening to my legs, master.”

His fingers still, and when he looks at them, they come away white. San rubs at his temples, his face drawn taut with worry and something bordering dismay. He stares at your legs as if they could give him an answer to this question. “But this isn’t supposed to happen. Nothing happened to them, you didn’t get hurt, or stabbed, or-”

Your heart warms at the desperate concern burning in his eyes, and you reach out your hand to take his into yours, gripping it gently. When his pained gaze meets yours, you do your best to put on a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, master. I have no intention of dying. You’ll help me out, won’t you?”

San looks at you for a moment with his mouth parted, as if surprised, before it draws into a sharp, determined line. He squeezes your hand back tightly. “Of course I will. As if I’d let anything happen to you!” He rises to his feet, gestures over to the multitude of books and scrolls haphazardly piled and stuffed into every nook and cranny of the sickbay. “There’s got to be something here somewhere similar to your condition, and even if there isn’t, it’ll be somewhere in Tortuga. If it exists on this earth, I’ll definitely find it.”

Something hot stings behind your eyes, but you blink it away, gripping San’s hand tighter. “Hey, master... I... really want to live, you know? I want to keep sailing with the crew... and I want to be with all of you forever. You know that, right?”

It’s fear.

The ugly, twisting feeling coiling deep in your belly is fear. Fear that you’ll never feel the warm sunlight on your face again. Fear that you can never talk and laugh and cry with the crew again. Fear that everything might be coming to an end; an end that you simply cannot come to terms with.

You’d do anything. Anything to stay with the crew, and keep on living.

“Silly apprentice.” San rests a tender hand on your head, looking at you with so much affection you could cry. “Of course I know, because that’s exactly what I feel as well. If there’s any way, I’d take it in a heartbeat! Even if it means getting rid of captain!” He jokes, and you snort, swatting him on the arm.

“Don’t be silly, master, both you and I know that you’d never do that.”

San grins, a large cat-like smile spreading across his face, and rises to his feet, striding over to his workbench.

“Hey, we’re going to cure you. This is your master you’re talking about! You know,” he turns back to give you a little wink, “back in my home village, they called me something of a medical prodigy.”

You rise to your feet, heart so full you can barely feel the pain in your legs and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Then, master... I’ll be counting on you. I’d help you out, but first, there’s something I need to do.”

“Something you need to do?” San peeks over, curiosity brimming in his eyes as you fish out a red fox fur coat from beneath your pillow. A sly smile turns up one corner of his mouth. “Oho. Is that a gift for a certain someone?”

You poke at his side playfully. “He lost his jacket, so I thought I’d make him something to thank him. Why, unhappy you’re not getting one as well?”

San pouts and turns away, arms crossed. “As if! Now get going, I need some silence to concentrate, so shoo!” Under his breath, he mutters, “stupid captain stealing my apprentice... stealing her first handmade gift... maybe it’s really time to get rid of him...”

Giggling lightly, you step around him and out of the room, the fox fur gathered in your arms. It’s soft and warm and light, perfect for a sea voyage and comfortable to wear. You only hope your captain will overlook the some of the stray threads sticking out here and there; your sewing still isn’t perfect, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

As you step out onto the deck, empty save for loose coils of rope and a pair of wooden cleats lying on the floor, you glance down at the fox fur in your arms.

You’re going to be giving him a gift... that you made with your own hands.

What if he doesn’t like it? The thought pops into your mind and you groan, burying your face in your hands. Your cheeks feel hot, and you step over to the side of the ship to cool off and calm down. Beneath you, the ocean is like a mirror of glass, stretching out as far as the eye can see.

Calm down, Chin Hae, it’s just a jacket. And even if he doesn’t like it, so what? You could just give it to someone else!

With that thought in mind, you clench your fist, ready to get it done and over with. But before you can go, there’s a strange sound from beneath you, and you glance down in surprise as the water.

To your shock, the surface of the sea begins to ripple and swirl, disrupted by whatever’s beneath it. You can feel something rising, coming up to the surface, and its intent focused solely on you and you alone. Something in your mind screams for you to run, but your feet only stay rooted to the spot, your hands trembling and cold sweat running down your neck.

What is this?

And out of the depths emerges...

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w;ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

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maliby · 4 years

Note

hey, could you write a yoongi smut and make it angsty (but with a happy ending)? please. i love your stories, thanks

↬ Pairing: Yoongi x Fem. Reader (ft. Namjoon and Hoseok) ↬ Story Genre: Medieval!au, ANGST, fluff and smut ↬ Warnings: explicit language, explicit sex scenes, minor character death ↬ Word count: 11.7K ↬ Summary: You father, The King, wanted to marry you off to someone you didn’t know but you wanted to find love so you decided to run away. You became a wanderer and luck would have it that you’d wander right into what you were looking for.

A/N: I usually don’t do requests (partially because I don’t get any lmao), but I was feeling so inspired that I decided to do it. Hope this is what you were craving anon, and thank you for loving my stories <3

“Y/N! Y/N! Wake up!” A distant cute voice you recognized as your younger sister, Miri, came through the door to your chambers.

“Mmm…” You turned around and covered your head with one of your pillows, trying to block out the noise. You never enjoyed waking up early.

“Y/N come on! The man with the pretty horsies has arrived and mommy said I could only play with them if you came along!” You felt your mattress slightly dip on your right and suddenly her cute small hands were tugging at the pillow on your head.

“Ugh, why me? Ask cousin Yuri.” You said in a whiny tone.

“Because it’s your birthday, and you should always play with horsies on your birthday!”

Your heart melted at the cute way your little sister said that. How could you say no to her? You couldn’t. She was the most precious thing to you in this world.

“Fine, I’ll go, but only if you survive this tickle attack!” You jumped out from underneath the covers and grabbed her tiny body to lay her on the bed and mercilessly tickle her.

You woke up with tears running down your face. You’d just had another nightmare about the last time you were truly happy. Another nightmare to remind you of the moments before everything changed and your parents, The King and Queen, decided to send you away to marry an unknown man. Another nightmare of the day you left everything behind and ran away.

“Having trouble sleeping again?” The man laying right next to you asked, startling you.

“I see that I’m not the only one,” you said right after wiping the tears off of your face with your sleeve and turning around to face him.

“The problem with sleeping out on the floor of the forest, Wanderer, is that you risk losing out on a good night of sleep.”

This had been your life since you’d run away from home: travelling around with a group of three guys, going from town to town selling anything from stolen goods, to food and craftwork. Sometimes that meant having to camp out in the forest, while others (provided you made good money) meant that you could sleep at an inn.

“Well, we could be sleeping at an inn if someone hadn’t been too distracted by a pretty girl to let himself get robbed.” You sent dirty looks to the snoring tall man by the name of Namjoon that was right to your left. His left foot was dangerously close to the fire you had made to keep the group warm but you weren’t really worried, he’d move away if it burned.

The man with the black hair chuckled, his gummy smile calming your still racing heart from your nightmare. “I kind of like sleeping outside.”

“Really? Don’t you prefer the comfort of a bed?”

“Well, in those regards of course I do, but where can you have such a beautiful view at an inn? You just open your eyes, look up, and a sea of stars are twinkling down, just begging to be observed.” He looked up to the sky and you couldn’t help but follow his gaze, seeing what he had just mentioned.

“I didn’t take you for a romantic, Suga.” You looked back at him and lightly pushed his shoulder in a teasing matter.

Suga had joined the gang just a few days before you. You didn’t know his real name and story, but that’s why you liked to hang out with him so much - he wouldn’t ask questions about your life.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Wanderer.”

Suga was the one to give you your new name - Wanderer - ever since, on a night just like this one, you were wandering in the forest, right after running away from your castle, and tripped on a sleeping Namjoon, falling right on Suga’s arms.

“I think it suits you,” you turned your eyes away from him and focused on the starry sky, being fully aware of the way Suga fixated his gaze on you.

Suga and the other guys - Namjoon and Hoseok - quickly accepted you in their little group, seeing as you had some crafting skills you had learned in the Castle, and you got along great with all of them. You would be lying though if you said you didn’t favour Suga over the others.

You didn’t know what it was, but there definitely was this heat between you two. Maybe it was because he was so handsome, or maybe it was because you both had mysterious lives, but he definitely had the ability to cross your mind several times a day and stay there.

“Thanks,” his volume was so low that you could barely hear him.

“Now go back to sleep, Wanderer. We have to get up early for the Narymya Market.” His tone was now back to his normal volume.

“Mhm,” you hummed, looking right back at him, “you too! You don’t want Hoseok to punch you again for not getting up.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said as he massaged his jaw, probably reliving the pain of Hoseok’s punch.

“Good night Suga,” you got back in your sleeping position, this time facing him, and gave him one last smile before closing your eyes.

“Good night, Wanderer.”

“Come in! Come in! The best rabbits in town! You can’t get a better product than this!” Hoseok usually had a very loud voice, but when he was in the markets trying to get everyone’s attention he cranked it up to the maximum. Your ears wanted you to complain (seeing as you were right next to him), but you knew that this way he would get the attention of potential clients much easier.

“Hoseok! Buyers won’t come if you make them deaf!” You teased him. You and Hoseok had a very push and pull kind of relationship. You bickered so much that people either thought you were brothers or in love.

“You know nothing about selling my dear, learn with the pros.” He waved his finger around like he was making fun of you and turned to the clients.

You marched towards him with your hands on your hips, not giving a damn about the people around you. “Oh yeah? I bet I can sell more than you by today.”

“That’s cute.” He laughed at your proposal and you knew that his overconfidence and arrogance would make you enjoy your victory so much more. “You think you’re gonna sell more makeup products than I’m gonna sell food? We live in a time of hunger.”

“Alright then, if I win you have to pay for my next meal.”

“Fine,” he agreed after brief consideration, “but if I win you have to give me a kiss.”

“What?” You took a step back. You were thinking maybe he would ask you for the same thing but a kiss was something that never once crossed your mind.

“Are you scared? Come on, I’ve been told I’m an excellent kisser.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down and you felt the immense need to slap his smirk right off of his face.

“Deal,” you shook his hand in agreement, wanting nothing more than to show him who’s the boss.

“Perfect, can’t wait to kiss those pretty lips, Wanderer,” Hoseok teased once again.

“What? You’re gonna kiss him?” Suga’s voice sounded right behind you, making your heart jump.

“Guess I’m gonna beat you to it, Suga.” Hoseok winked at the male standing right next to you.

“It’s nothing like that,” you responded as you saw Suga’s conflicted face, “we just made a bet to see who can sell more-”

“And when she loses she’s gonna have to kiss me,” Hoseok interrupted you making you snap.

“I’m not going to lose! At the end of the day, you’re still going to have to kiss your pillow like you do every night. You’ll see!!” You turned away and stormed off back to your table.

“That was harsh,” Suga joked as he made his way to his table, which was right next to yours. “You should have seen his shocked face.”

“Well then he shouldn’t have come up with such stupid prizes- Hello pretty lady, may I interest you in this wonderful rose water?” You interrupted your conversation with Suga as a young lady passed by your table.

“No thanks, I don’t need such things,” she barely even looked at you and walked right past, giving you no attention at all.

“Yes, because not even rose water could fix that ugly face.” You mumbled through your teeth as soon as she left.

“If you want I can buy you the products,” Suga offered, making you feel grateful.

“Don’t worry Suga, I can do it, I just have to turn it up a notch.”

You noticed another young woman approaching your area, so you cleared up your throat and went to her. “Oh dear, he was right!”

“What? Who was right?” The woman asked, feeling worried.

“You see that man over there?” You pointed at the most popular seller in the markets, a man so handsome that he had a line of women ready to empty out his table every day.

“Yes, I just came from there.”

“He told me,” you paused a little for dramatic effect, “in secret, that he liked you and that you were really pretty.”

“Really?!” She seemed so excited that you felt bad for deceiving her, but you needed to win this bet no matter what.

”Yes, but he also told me that, as you can imagine, he has a lot of women interested in him.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to get his attention,” she put her head down, clearly remembering all the times she tried to catch his attention but failed.

“I wish there was something we could do, you seem like such a nice girl...Oh, I know!” You shamelessly turned around and pointed at your products. “I have a tonne of products that could help you stand out from the other girls.”

“Really?” She opened her eyes wide open and looked towards your table, making you feel optimistic.

“Yes! Here I have this rose water mixed with dried roses, clove, nutmeg, watercress and galangal. All you have to do is dip your comb in this and run it through your hair and it will smell so nice that he’s never going to want to leave your side!” You handed her one of your bottles for her to smell.

“Oh my, that smells divine! What else do you have?”

“This is a new product I have, it’s wine boiled with bilberry leaves, you just dip a cloth in it and apply it under your arms and they won’t stink. This is perfect for when you get a bit nervous, maybe when you’re gonna talk to him. You’ll be so fresh!”

“Oh, that sounds amazing!”

“I also have this mixture, all you have to do is put it in the fire and when it’s lukewarm, smear it on your face, but don’t let it touch your eyebrows. Leave it for an hour until it becomes cold and then remove it. Your skin will be so refined and beautiful! Plus you can use it in other parts of the body to remove unwanted hairs and clear any blemish. You just know a man like that likes his women smooth-”

“Okay, I’ve heard enough, give me all you have!” She picked up her pouch full of coins and gave it to you. You turned around to look at Suga, who was staring at you with a surprised look on his face, and gave him a wink as you handed everything you possessed to that woman.

“You really have no shame,” Suga said as soon as the girl left.

“Listen to that,” you put your little pouch full of coins near his face and shook it so he could hear them clashing against each other, “that’s the sound of success, my dear friend. I’ll offer you a glass of wine at dinner, it’s on Hoseok.” You winked and made your way to Hoseok’s table to announce his defeat, unaware of Suga’s affectionate eyes staring at you.

“To Wanderer!” Namjoon toasted as he clinked his cup with the rest of the group’s cups.

“To Wanderer!” Suga and Hoseok repeated (the latter less enthusiastically) before all of you poured the wine in the cups down your mouths.

“Don’t be so sad Hoseok, you also did a good job! Thanks to our little bet we can sleep and dine at a good inn tonight!” You gave him a warm smile and placed a kiss on his cheek, feeling a wave of sympathy that may be attributed to the combination of your victory and wine.

“Yes, my back really thanks your stupid bet,” Suga mumbled as he drank more wine, his mood suddenly becoming more grumpy.

“He’s just sad he didn’t get to kiss Wand- OUCH!” Namjoon revealed before he got stepped on underneath the table, presumably by Hoseok.

“So that’s why you’re like this?” You turned to the man with the black hair, your heartwarming up at the thought of him being jealous. “Here.” You reached over the table and gently placed a kiss on his cheek. He looked so shy at that moment that you couldn’t help but feel giggly, and this time it wasn’t because of the wine.

“Wanderer, I’m also sad I didn’t get a kiss!” Namjoon said, clearly trying to also get a kiss out of you.

“Shut up you idiot, she’s not kissing you,” Suga protested.

“Somebody’s jealous,” Namjoon teased in a half-singing voice. You felt like you were burning up, and placed your hands on your cheeks being sure they were tinted red.

“Just eat your food before it gets cold,” Suga snapped back, taking another sip of wine and picking up his chicken leg to take a bite out of it.

“Hey, boys,” a young beautiful woman approached your group, interrupting your conversation.

“Hello,” Hoseok promptly responded, getting over his loss to you and becoming instantly infatuated.

“Hey lovely,” Namjoon also answered.

“Do you boys need some company?”

She was clearly a prostitute looking to make some money tonight. You didn’t have anything against her until she ogled Suga up and down and decided to put her arm around his shoulders. Your body immediately stiffened. Suga was a single man, (or so you thought since, after all, you knew nothing about his personal life) so you couldn’t put it against him if he decided to go with her. The thing was you didn’t want him to and, to your likeness, it seemed like he also didn’t want to.

“We have company, or are you blind?” His stare was so deadly that you felt kind of bad for the girl. The tension instantly got so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“I- Sorry to bother you,” she removed her arm from around him, quickly apologized and left, Hoseok running after her.

“Wait! I don’t have company!”

“I’m not going to do it!” You screamed at both your parents as you left their presence and made your way to your chambers.

“Y/N get back here!” You heard your father yell. You could tell he was about to follow you, but your mother’s pleas to leave you alone made him stay put.

Miri was asleep on your bed, probably waiting for you to come and read her a bedtime story.

You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to leave her behind, but you had to. You couldn’t get married to someone you didn’t know. You had dreams. You dreamed of living your life as you saw fit. You dreamed of meeting a nice guy wherever and fall in love with him. You dreamed of starting a family someday. A family filled with love and trust, and not one built on convenience. You hoped someday Miri could think of her big sister and have the courage to also follow her dreams. That’s why you had to leave.

You took whatever you could carry, gave your sweet little sister a kiss on the forehead and made your way to the door, tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N?” her sweet little sleepy voice said. “You’re back, I was waiting for you to read me a story about the nice prince who fell in love with the princess.” You dried up your tears with the sleeves of your dress and turned around to look at her - she was getting out of bed to get near you.

“It’s late Miri, you need to go back to sleep,” you tried to control your voice so she wouldn’t realize you had been crying, but it was much too difficult.

“Okay…” she gave you a cute little pout that broke your heart, “but can you sleep with me?”

“Of course Miri.”

When Miri turned her back on you to get back to bed, you put your things near the door and lay next to her. You looked out the window and noticed that it started to rain, so you grabbed your blankets and tugged your sister in tightly.

You started to hum her favourite lullaby to her and as she looked adorably at you your heart sank. Her eyes started to gently close and that’s when you realized: she was probably never going to see you again.

You woke up with your heart racing and your cheeks wet. As you looked out the window of your room you started to doubt yourself and wonder if all of this was worth it. If you’ve made the right decision. Then you started to imagine what Miri would be doing now: she was probably sleeping with the little bunny toy you had sewed for her in one of your classes. Fortunately, someone interrupted your thoughts with a knock before you cried even further.

“Yes?”

“It’s me.” The voice of the man who made your heart race sounded from the other side of the door.

You dried up your tears with your sleeve and opened the door to the handsome man.

“Is everything alright?” You asked as you saw his worried expression.

“Well, I was awake because Namjoon was snoring and then I heard noise coming from your room so, I decided to come to see if you were alright.”

“I’m fine.” You tried to dismiss his thoughts but, by the way he was attentively looking at your face, you knew you weren’t going to be able to trick him.

“Then why were you crying?” You sighed in defeat and sat on your bed, Suga joining you right after closing the door of your room.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to..” He placed his hand on top of yours, letting you know that you could feel safe and comfortable with him.

“I was dreaming about the last time I saw my little sister.” Suga didn’t say anything, but he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, letting you know that it was okay for you to go on. “I- I had to run away from home and… I just miss her so much.” You took a deep breath, trying to contain the tears that once again threatened to spill but to no success.

“Hey, don’t cry Wanderer,” Suga’s warm palm touched your left cheek so it could turn your head in his direction. “Why did you run away?” His voice was soothing and low, something that, in combination with the calming circles he was drawing in your hand, managed to calm you down a bit.

“My parents wanted to marry me off to some guy I didn't even know…” You confessed as you avoided his gaze.

He chuckled, and the look on his face gave you the impression that he was amused somehow.

“Why are you laughing? You think I’m a spoiled little brat that threw a tantrum just because she didn’t get her way?” You took your hand from underneath his and removed his other hand from your cheek, feeling hurt that he might actually think that.

“No! It’s nothing like that, Wanderer. I swear.” He sounded so sorry that he had given you the wrong impression that you started to believe that you were the one with the wrong impression. “I was just thinking...What are the odds we both ran away from home?”

Your eyes shot wide open in surprise. “You also ran away from home?!”

This was the first time Suga had mentioned anything about his life to anyone. Even the other guys knew nothing about him, just that he showed up out of nowhere as you had. But the fact that he was confiding in you made you feel tingly all over.

“Yes,” he smiled. “And that’s why I know you are not stupid. You are the bravest woman I’ve ever met.” He placed his hand once more on your cheek, a gesture that, in combination with his adoring and warm smile, made you feel warm inside. The fact that he had gone through something similar and that he understood you made you feel like you were valid somehow, and that was the most precious thing he could have ever given you.

“You really think that?” You shyly looked at him and his expression turned from an endearing one to a very serious one.

“Not only that - you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

Everything stopped.

Suddenly your heartbeat rose to a million beats per minute and your eyes couldn’t stop staring at his lips. It was like they were calling out to you. Like something between you two was pulling you closer and closer until you (being the impatient woman you were) just threw every bit of self-control you had to the wind and kissed him.

No kiss you ever had before had felt like this. It felt like love and adoration were flowing through you both. It felt like you were connecting on all levels possible. It felt safe and real but hot and dream-like.

“I can’t tell you-” kiss “how many times” kiss “I’ve dreamed about these lips” kiss “and how it would feel to kiss them,” kiss kiss kiss.

“Why did you take so long?” You whined as he covered your neck with soft kisses.

“Because I’m a stupid man.”

His hands instinctively grazed up your thighs, sliding under your nightgown, but abruptly stopped when he reached your centre. He left your neck alone and looked you in the eyes with a very flustered expression.

“May I?” He asked, the red tint that emerged on his cheeks making him look adorable.

Now you were the one chuckling. How could he be this perfect? If you already were feeling hot, now you were flaming up.

You took his hand and guided it to your wet folds, immediately moaning as his fingers grazed your clit. “You may.”

Suga’s hand pressed on your shoulder so he could lay you down. Once your back reached the mattress you further spread your legs to give him better access, the gesture making you feel excited.

His fingers moved slowly, gliding through you with the help of your growing arousal. You felt good. So good that your mind kept having impure thoughts of the things you wanted him to do to you.

“More,” you moaned as he skilfully fingers toyed with your bud. He knew what he was doing, and he was doing it so well that you instinctively pulled him for a needy kiss.

He chuckled into your mouth, his middle finger immediately obeying to your request and sliding from your clit down to your little hole, slowly entering it.

“I want you so bad Wanderer,” his mouth moved away from yours and down to your neck. “You have no idea how many times I dreamed about having you.”

Suga inserted one more finger, making you cry out due to the stretch.

You were a virgin, as it was expected of a princess until her wedding night. You’d be lying if you said you had zero sexual experience - the time you sneaked to the stables at night with the son of the Minister of Coin as a teenager and dry-humped his crotch until the both of you came undone suddenly came to mind. That boy came dangerously close to “taint” you, and you’d say he would have succeeded if he hadn’t been promised to the daughter of a Duke and shipped off before he could do it. You were bummed at the time, being the rebellious teenager you were, but now you were glad he didn’t do it.

“Does it hurt?” he lifted his head so he could look you in the eyes, his lips starting to get swollen from all the kissing he was doing on your neck.

“No, it’s fine,” you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close, whispering against his mouth: “I want more.”

Your right hand released his collar and travelled down between your bodies, palming his erection over his clothes. Suga closed his eyes and hissed, his hand following your requesting and adding one more finger in.

“Fuck,” you cursed at the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Shhh Wanderer, you don’t want to wake up the people next door,” Suga said with a mischievous look as he started to pump his fingers faster into you.

“Well, I don’t care,” you dismissed him as you remembered the several times your ‘neighbours’ Namjoon and Hoseok didn’t let you sleep because of their snoring. “All I care about right now,” you added, moving your hand inside his pants and grabbing him raw, “is you.”

Suga ceased all movement and practically growled. He removed his fingers from inside of you and quickly disposed of all his clothes, you following him suit.

“Have I told you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world?” He questioned as he observed your naked body with an infatuated look on his face.

You blushed and giggled, “twice.”

“Well,” he lay on top of you, your skin touching his like they were one and the same, “I mean it.”

Suga reached down for a kiss and you swear you could feel yourself emotionally crumbling into pieces at his hands. His lips were quite literally taking your breath away and you were honestly getting scared at how fast you were falling for a man you knew barely anything about.

“Are you really sure about this?” His eyes were honest and kind, and you could tell he was really worried about you and not asking just because. “Losing your innocence to me-”

“I left home because I wanted to be the one to choose who I’m going to be with,” you interrupted him, already knowing what he was going to say. “I don’t plan on being sold to someone who cares more about my so-called ‘innocence’ than me. I want to be with someone who worries about me and calls me beautiful without second intentions. I want to be with someone who truly wants me. I-” you paused, feeling a bit insecure about your next words. “I want to be with you…”

Suga didn’t say anything. He simply stared at you with an unreadable expression on his face, leaving you completely terrified.

“If you’ll have me…” you added as you took in his expression, scared that you had screwed everything up.

Without warning Suga attacked your lips, passion overflowing between the two of you. “I want nothing but you, Wanderer,” he confessed to your lips.

You grabbed his hardness and placed it at your entrance. “Then have me.”

Suga grabbed his penis and slid it through your folds, collecting your slick, before he slowly entered you.

“Mmh,” you grunted, the stinging feeling being a bit overwhelming to you. Suga noticed your discomfort and placed gentle kisses on your skin while he delicately ran his fingers over your thighs to try and ease you.

“Tell me when it feels better,” his voice was caring and sweet and you swore you immediately felt better.

“You can go.”

Suga went slow at first, but as soon as he noticed your change of expression he started to pick up his place.

“God, you feel so perfect.”

His mouth was working on your chest, his tongue playing with your erect nipples, making you moan out his name and squeeze tighter around him. “Oh, Suga.”

“Fuck Wanderer,” he revolved his eyes in pleasure, his expression driving you wild. “Excuse my crudeness, but if you moan my name again and keep squeezing me tight like that I’m going to fuck you so hard that this bed is going to break in half and you’re not going to be able to walk straight tomorrow.”

“Mmh Suga,” you moaned in response, partly because you wanted to tease him but also because you were just so turned on.

Suga didn’t even say anything, he just nuzzled his face on your neck and started fucking you like crazy, the bed making squicky noises in return.

“Oh, fuck, I’m not going to last very long, you’re too much.” He grabbed one of your breasts and pinched your nipple, trying to get you closer to your release. “Touch yourself for me, beautiful.”

You had touched yourself before. It was something that, as a princess, people would frown upon if they ever found out but, then again, you weren’t like most princesses. Touching yourself in private was never a problem. Touching yourself in front of the man you liked on the other hand, was a completely different story. It felt dirtier, nastier and exposing. Something that even you, as out of the ordinary for a princess as you were, felt ashamed of, but you were so inebriated with pleasure that you didn’t even have to think about it, you simply reached down and started rubbing yourself for him.

“That’s it, rub yourself until you cum, Wanderer.”

He didn’t even have to say it because almost as soon as you started to pleasure yourself you could feel that sweet feeling building up in your core. It was only a matter of time before you came and when you did, you couldn’t help but scream.

“Mhm, oh Suga…” You didn’t care if the whole damn inn heard you at this point, all you cared about was that he heard you and that he knew just how good he was making you feel.

As soon as you came though, he removed himself from inside of you and pleasured himself until he released on his hand.

“Why didn’t you cum on my belly or something?” You asked as soon as his panting subsided.

“I didn’t want you to get dirty,” he picked up his shirt and cleaned his hand on it, quickly joining you in bed with a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t mind,” you kissed his lips and stared him straight in the eyes, getting entirely lost in them.

“I didn’t think you were this naughty,” he smirked.

“To be honest, neither did I. I guess you just brought it out of me.” You looked down, trying to hide the blush you were sure was present on your cheeks but Suga had other plans.

“Are you being shy now?” He placed a finger on your chin and turned your head back up.

“Shut up,” you lightly slapped him in his firm chest, making him laugh in return.

Suga wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in close, your head resting comfortably on his chest.

“You seemed to really know what you were doing…” You didn’t mind if he had had other girlfriends before, you just wanted to know a little bit more about his life.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve...done it before.” You could tell that your statement made him uncomfortable because his muscles quickly tensed up. “Sorry…”

“Why are you sorry?” You left the comfort of his chest and looked him straight in the eyes, his apology seeming completely ridiculous to you.

“Well, I was your first and you deserve your first time to be with someone who had you as his first.”

He was the sweetest. He was actually the sweetest. If there were any doubts that he was right for you then they were out the window.

“Suga...I don’t care,” you touched his cheek and ran your thumb over it. “You already know I ran away because I didn’t want an arranged marriage, so I’m not exactly a conventional girl. Plus,” you moved in closer and whispered in his ear, “this way my first time gets to be much better, don’t you think?”

Suga quickly flipped you around, so he was on top of you, and gave you a kiss. “You really are trouble, and I don’t think I can get enough.”

------------------------------------- 1 month later ------------------------------------------

The sound of someone knocking at the door woke you up from your sleep. You were pissed since you were having a nice dream about Suga and you rarely got nice dreams.

“Who is it?” Suga yelled. If you were pissed then he was more than pissed, he was not a morning person, and it was way too early to be getting up.

“Hoseok!”

You scoffed, leaving your boyfriend in bed and coming to open the door to your friend. “Do you even know what time it is? You know Suga, he might actually kill you for this.”

“I’m sorry, I know you had a...busy night,” he winked right before earning himself a kick in the shin. “Ouch!”

“What do you want, pervert?” You sighed, thinking he had woken you up for some stupid reason like so many other times. One time, when you were sleeping in the woods, he had the audacity to wake you up because he saw a shooting star. You loved shooting stars, it’s true, but you loved sleeping even more, and that action earned him some words that your royal family would definitely not approve.

“Arial just told me that the Guard is coming early to the inn for breakfast.”

“Fuck…” You realized that you had started to curse a lot more the more time you spent with these guys but, it was something you found liberating and, in this case, appropriate. The Guard was the big authority in the Kingdom you were currently at and you bet they would be very happy to find a bunch of casual criminals like you and your friends.

“Wait, who’s Arial?” You heard the sleepy voice of your boyfriend ask from behind you.

“The daughter of the innkeeper, the one I slept with last night.” He winked at Suga. He wore a mischievous look on his face, telling you he was probably remembering all the dirty stuff that poor girl let him do to her.

“You’re disgusting.” You noted, realizing you had a disapproving expression on your face.

“Hey! We don’t have time for this, you can call me disgusting all you want when we’re out of here.” Hoseok pointed out, making you realize he was right.

“Fine, you’re right.”

“Alright, I’ve already warned Namjoon. Meet you in the back in 10 minutes, Arial will let you through.”

You wanted to nag your friend for telling one of his conquests about your ways of living, but not only did you not have the time to do that you also didn’t want to admit it to him that his adventures with women were saving you. So, you just ignored it and moved on.

“Okay, see you.”

“Where the fuck is Namjoon?” Suga hated waiting for other people, it got him very grumpy, but you found his grumpy face adorable.

“I told him 10 minutes, not-”

“I’m here, I’m here!” Your tall friend announced just as he walked out of the inn in a rush. “I’m sorry, I- I went against the servant and made her spill everything and she made me help her clean it up…” He looked away, feeling embarrassed that once again his clumsiness was causing problems.

“It’s fine Namjoon, what matters is that you’re here and we can finally leave.” You patted him in the back, trying to make him feel better.

“How come you’re being so nice to him? I bet if it was me you’d be yelling!” Hoseok protested. You knew he was right but, honestly, you didn’t feel like bickering with him right now. You wanted to get out of there safely.

“Now is not the time Hoseok, we need to leave,” Suga came to your defence and you felt so grateful that he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

The group started walking to the (stolen) horses you had left in the back and when you were getting ready to place your belongings in the bag the horse carried you noticed something was missing. “Oh no…”

“What is it, Wanderer?” Suga asked.

“I forgot my pouch.”

“Really Wanderer?” Hoseok sighed, revolving his eyes.

You were feeling bad. Especially because Suga reminded you 3 times about the pouch and you just ended up forgetting it on your bed anyways.

“I’ll go get it, just wait here for me.”

You turned around to leave but your boyfriend had other plans and grabbed your arm. “No, it’s dangerous. I’ll go.”

“Suga, no. You know as well as I do that as a woman I have more chances to get away, especially when it comes to the guards.” It pained your boyfriend to admit it but he knew you were right.

“What if I ask Arial to go get it?” Hoseok’s idea wasn’t bad, the only problem was that you didn’t know Arial and so you didn’t trust her with this.

“No offence, but I’m not trusting all our money with some random girl. Just wait here and I’ll be back soon.”

“Be careful,” Suga said as he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I will,” you smiled back at him and turned around to leave, giving a quick run back to the inn. You couldn’t go back through the back door as it was already closed and locked, so you had no choice but to go in from the front. It was still early, so there was barely anyone walking around but it would soon be breakfast time and the Guard would be there, so you had to be quick and careful.

First, you needed to find Arial, as she had the key to the room. That was the easy task as she was in the kitchens preparing breakfast with the other servants, the smell of freshly baked bread filling up your nostrils.

“Hey, Arial,” you called as soon as you spotted her making fresh juice.

“Oh, hi,” she let go of the fruit and cleaned her hands on her apron, pulling you to a more secluded place. “Is something wrong? Is Hoseok alright?”

You were honestly surprised she was so worried and found it kind of sweet of her. Maybe you judged her too quickly, but you were still not going to leave her alone with your money.

“Everything’s alright, I just forgot something in the room and was wondering if you could give me the key so I can quickly go get it.”

“Oh, yeah sure,” she put her hand inside the big front pocket of her apron and took out the key to your’s and your boyfriend’s room. “Here.”

“Thank you so much, Arial.” You grabbed the key and gave her an appreciative smile.

“You can leave the key under the rug after you’re done, I’ll come and pick it up after.” You gave her a nod and turned to leave, but not before you heard her warning: “But be careful, the Guard should be here any minute.”

“Thank you!”

You left the busy kitchen and its wonderful smells and made your way to your room. There was no one in sight yet, so you decided to be as quick about it as you possibly could. You quickly ran up the stairs, unlocked your door and walked right in, immediately spotting the item you were missing. “There you are.”

After collecting your forgotten belongings, you placed the key under the big furry rug - as Arial had instructed you - and opened the door to leave but the voices down the stairs quickly made you run back inside.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. It was the Guard.

The Guard’s voices were loud and you wondered how someone could be so loud in the morning, but that also meant that you could hear when they were no longer in the way. Soon, their voices dissipated and you figured they must be in the dining room getting ready to eat. The good news was that you could finally go downstairs, the bad news was that if you wanted to leave you had to pass by them. Not knowing what to do, your eyes quickly scanned the room and caught something that gave you an idea.

This inn was the fanciest you had ever stayed on, your group deciding to enjoy the good amount of money you had been gaining (partially thanks to your healthy competitions with Hoseok). As a result of that, the decoration of the room was also, in itself, really fancy, having deep green velvety draping curtains, both on your bed frame and the windows - curtains that you could use to hide your identity. You reached under your skirt and grabbed the sharp knife Suga had given you and made sure you always had with you. You felt bad for ruining such pretty and surely expensive curtains but your life depended on it so, without hesitation, you grabbed one of the curtains and started to cut it. Once you were done, you left two silver coins on the table (in compensation for the damage), wrapped the fabric around your head (as a lot of ladies did) and made your way out of there.

As soon as you neared the dining room you spotted them. They were 4 in total, all on the same table, swords near their reach.

They weren’t in a corner of the room (as you wished). They were right in the middle, as if they did it on purpose to make your life that much more difficult. You could see the exit, you could almost imagine Suga waiting for you, but you had to go through them first, so, you took a deep breath and slowly entered the room, keeping your head down and adjusting your improvised scarf to cover part of your face.

They were practically the only people in the room, which wasn’t ideal for your situation because it would be much easier for them to pay attention to you, but lucky for you, they seemed to be entranced in conversation.

You entered the room and walked straight in their direction, as calmly as you could. Your whole body was on edge. Sweat was starting to form and you could hear your heart frantically beating in your ears. As you got closer, their conversation started to become clearer to you.

“We’ve looked for Princess Y/N everywhere but nothing.”

Everything stopped.

They knew who you were. Who you really were. And they were looking for you. If your heart was already racing, well now you felt like it was going to come out through your mouth.

Why would they know who you were? And why were they looking for you? You were reasonably far from your own Kingdom and they only roamed in here. Then you remembered that maybe there was some type of reward on the line. Part of you knew you had to get out of there as quickly as possible and you were almost there, you could practically smell the fresh air. The other part, on the other hand, was dying to know about your family, especially your little sister, Miri. The latter part won.

You stopped in the middle of the room, just near their table, and pretended to look for something in your pouch, when in reality you were just listening in.

“Yeah, I think it’s useless that we still look for her now. With the King’s death, I’m sure she’s bound to show up. Especially since I’m sure she doesn’t want little Princess Miri to be Queen and get married at such a young age.”

You wanted to throw up.

It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t. Your father couldn’t….no. No. Your father was...dead?

You fell on your knees crying, not even thinking about the guards. Not even thinking about where you were. Nothing mattered. You didn’t agree with a lot of your father’s decisions but he was still your father and you loved him. And now he died while you had run off and you were never going to see him again…

“Hey miss, are you alright?” One of the guards was on his knees trying to help you and he was that close to seeing your face and honestly, you were going to let him. You wanted him to take you home. You wanted to be there for your family. You needed to be there.

“Leave her be!”

Just as the guard was about to see your face, Suga's voice reached your ears. He punched the guard in the face, making him fall to the ground and pulled you up to run with you. “Wanderer we need to run!”

At that moment you ran. You ran for love. You ran for Suga.

You heard them yelling and coming after the two of you, but a loud noise seemed to make them stop. You turned your head and saw that Arial had run on to them (by the smile she was giving you, you presumed it was all on purpose) and caused a commotion, giving you time to get ahead and manage to escape.

As soon as you got to your horses it was over for the guards. They were left behind and you and your group rode into the forest.

The rest of the day you didn’t really say much. You had gone to a nearby city and tried to sell stuff at the market, but this was by far the worst day in sales for you. Understandably, your brain felt like complete mush, and you could tell that Suga noticed and was waiting for you two to be alone to ask you.

“Are you okay, Wanderer?” Suga asked into your ear as soon as you were both alone in your tent. Since the little run-in with the Guard that morning, and due to your poor sales, you decided that an inn was out of the option and opted instead to go deep into the forest.

“I’m fine Suga.” You lied.

“You don’t seem fine. You were weird all day.” He came closer to you and brushed a piece of hair out of your face, placing it right behind your ear.

The look on his face almost broke you. You were ready to just hug him and cry into his chest. You were ready to tell him everything, but you couldn’t.

Today you made an important decision. You were going to leave them all behind and go back. You were going to take over your father, become the Queen and marry to a King, and you were doing it all for your sister. All throughout the day you couldn’t stop thinking about her. How sad she must be. How scared. You couldn’t let everything fall down on her. You wouldn’t. Unfortunately for you...that meant leaving the man you loved behind.

“It’s nothing. It’s just the shock of almost being caught by the Guard. But, you saved me.” You put your arms around his neck and did your best to smile at him.

“I would never let anything bad happen to you.” Just like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to each other's lips. The kiss was sweet, tender, safe, loving - everything you ever wanted and everything you were going to lose.

“I love you.”

This was the first time you had said it to him. This was the first time you had said it to any boy. You didn’t expect him to say it back, you didn’t need him to say it back, you just wanted him to know it before you broke his heart.

“I love you too.” His lips were back on yours, but this time with much more emotion. “So fucking much.”

It hurt that you found everything you were looking for and had to give it up. It fucking hurt. You fulfilled your wishes, the entire reason you ran away, and now you had to go back and you couldn’t help but shed a tear, something that Suga noticed right away.

“Don’t cry my love,” he brushed your tears away and gently kissed the place they were at.

“I’m just so happy.” You lied once again.

“And you deserve it. You deserve everything.” He pecked your lips lovingly. “God, you make me the happiest man alive.”

You started to kiss him, your hands tugging at his shirt almost immediately.

You couldn’t have him forever, but you could have this night. How many people wished for a chance, one last chance to be with their loved ones and can’t? You knew this was your last time, and you planned to take in every single second of it.

As soon as his shirt was off you started to kiss his toned and firm chest. You didn’t want to miss one bit of skin, you wanted to taste it all, you wanted to have it all. You went further down his body until you reached his pants, which you skillfully untied and removed so you could have access to his penis.

He was already getting hard. He was always ready for you, and you were always ready for him.

You grabbed his penis and gave it a gentle lick, your eyes fixated on his every expression. You wanted to see it all. Every lip bite, every eye roll, every hiss, every moan, every burning gaze...you wouldn’t lose a thing. You would engrave it all in your mind and remember it until you took your last breath.

“Fuck love, you do that so good,” he moaned as you sucked him off with all the dedication in the world.

You didn’t answer him. You just sucked and sucked until he couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted to taste him one last time. You wanted for him to come undone in your mouth like he had so many times before, and you didn’t care if your jaw hurt or if you gagged as he thrust himself deeper into your mouth, entering your throat.

“Fuck, Wanderer stop. I don’t want to cum just yet.”

You didn’t listen to him. You simply used one hand to pump his base as you swirled and sucked the tip and another to massage his balls, having him spilling his sweet milk all over your mouth.

You loved watching him cum. His eyes closing, his brows frowning, his mouth opened in the perfect ‘o’ shape showing his sinful pink tongue... If you could, you would have a painter paint his beautiful face at that moment and hang it right on top of your bed.

“Shit Wanderer, that may have been the best fucking suck I’ve ever gotten in my life,” he confessed as soon as he regained his breath.

“Fuck,” he cursed as soon as he saw you swallow his semen, “I just came and I feel like I’m ready to cum again.”

Suga went into beast mode. He removed your clothes and lay you down on your mattress, kissing you all over your body until he reached your sex.

“Mhmm,” you moaned as he flicked his tongue on the most sensitive part of your body.

God, you were going to miss this. You were going to miss the way he looked at you while his head was between your thighs. You were going to miss the way he could get you to Heaven and back just with his tongue. You were going to miss the way he clawed your skin as he sucked and licked your pussy and you were definitely going to miss his fingers - his long and rough fingers. You could try, but yours could never compare to his. He seemed to know you even better than yourself how, where and when to touch you. How to rub your clit in the right measure, how many fingers you needed, how hard he needed to go and how to make you cum so hard you’d be able to see stars.

You grabbed his black locks and pressed him harder against you as he ate all of you up and finger fucked you to fucking oblivion. You were pressing him so hard against you that you knew he probably couldn’t breathe but, by the way he just went harder and harder, you knew he liked it. That fact edged you out even more, so much so that you were screaming his name in no time, your body convulsing in the sheer ecstasy of your orgasm.

“Yes, Suga! Oh, Suga…”

“I love it when you moan my name like that.” He got out from between your legs and sucked the fingers that were soaked in your arousal. “Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Suga was now on top of you, his body pressing against yours and his lips kissing your jawline and neck as he whispered sweet nothings against your skin. He was busy slowing it down, adoring you, but you needed something else. You needed to forget everything. You needed to think about him and only him. You needed him to be inside of you and you needed it now, so you switched positions (putting yourself on top of him) and placed your dripping centre right on top of his erection, rubbing yourself against it.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking lucky,” he moaned as he gripped your thighs.

“You’re wrong. I’m the lucky one.” You lowered your torso and got your face as close to his as possible, your lips, though, were barely touching, just grazing one another and causing tingling sensations that made your heart race. “I ran away from home because I didn’t believe in arranged marriages. I ran because I wanted love, true love...and I found it.” Your boyfriend’s gaze was so intense that it made you go crazy. He was looking at you like you were the moon and the stars but little did he know that tonight, the stars would go out and the moon would be eclipsed by dark dark clouds. “You’re all I could ever wish for: gentle, sweet, loving, trustful...my safe haven.” You closed your eyes and filled the tiny little gap that existed between your lips, “I love you so much.”

“Love you…” you raised your hips a little bit, lined up his dick with your pussy and simply sank right in, involving all of him and making him moan the rest of his sentence “...too.”

As you rode him and looked him straight in the eyes, his hands gripping you harder out of pure lust, you felt like you would never feel this complete in your whole life. He fit you so well that there was no way God didn’t make you for each other.

“Suga…” you moaned, reaching down to kiss him hard. “You feel so good inside of me, I wish you could fuck me all day.”

“Maybe someday we could try it, I definitely wouldn’t oppose having you wrapped around my cock all the fucking day.” His hands moved from your thighs to your ass, a gesture that, in combination with the love bites he was leaving on your neck were making you so fucking horny that you picked up the speed.

Moans and the sound of skin slapping on skin were all you could hear and, for now, you were in pure bliss. You were so in trance by him that you weren’t even capable of thinking about other things. But suddenly, your own body couldn’t respond to your needs. You needed to go faster, you needed to reach that high, but your muscles were getting too tired. Noticing this, Suga flipped the both of you so you’d be on the bottom, locked your legs around him and started fucking you like an animal in heat.

“Oh fuck, I’m so close,” you moaned, your nails digging into his back.

“Cum for me Wanderer, show me those pretty little faces you make.”

Just like that, you were cumming around him, your walls clenching so tight around him that you thought he might cum too.

Part of you wished he’d cum inside of you this time because if you got pregnant at least you would have something of him. Something to remind you of him. Something real and physical, and not just memories. But as he left you empty to ejaculate on your breasts you realized it was probably for the best. You didn’t want Suga’s child to never meet his father and vice-versa. You could never do that to him, one heartbreak was enough.

As Suga cleaned up your breasts - after he had recuperated - you couldn’t help but look at him, and your heart started to hurt again.

“What?” He asked, noticing your emotional eyes.

“Nothing,” you fake smiled. “Come lay with me.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him in close, guiding him to lay right next to you.

Suga pulled you in closer, wrapping his arm around you and making you place your head on his chest. In this position, you could hear his heartbeat, something that managed to calm you down for some reason.

“Don’t ever leave me,” Suga said, making you freeze completely.

“W-why would you say that?” You asked, completely glad that he couldn’t look at your face right now because you’re absolutely sure that you wouldn’t be able to hide your emotions.

“Just...promise me.” He inhaled deeply and placed a gentle kiss on your hair, something that managed to break you even more.

Tears were starting to emerge. You wanted more than anything to not only promise him that and so much more but to also keep those promises. You wanted to give him everything, and it was killing you that you couldn’t give that to him.

“I promise.” A silent tear ran down your face and now you felt truly broken.

You waited for Suga to fall asleep. It usually wouldn’t take long. He once mentioned that he was normally a fast sleeper, but when he was with you he felt so at home that he would drift off even quicker.

As soon as you heard his heavy breathing you tested it out by calling his name, just in case, and when he didn’t respond you slowly got up. You got dressed, covered him with the blanket and placed a letter you had written that afternoon right next to him. In this letter, you explained everything to him. Who you really were, every little detail of why you left home (even though he already knew the general idea), what happened this morning and why you had to leave. But most importantly, you confessed your whole feelings for him and told him this was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

You looked at his serene face one more time and gave him a small kiss on the lips. “Goodbye Suga.” You were starting to cry very hard now and you felt that if you didn’t leave right now you were going to wake him with your sobbing. So, you opened up your tent, gave him one last look and left.

“Where are you taking me?” Suga had made you close your eyes and promise to only open them when he told you to. You were curious as to where he could be leading you in a forest in the middle of the night but you decided to not peek.

“Shhh, we’re almost there.”

Suddenly the ground felt a lot more earthy and less bushy and the sound of water running could be heard.

“Alright, you can open them.”

You opened your eyes and the sight completely blew your mind. In front of you was a beautiful lake with some rock formations and a small little waterfall. The water twinkled with the reflection of the moon and the stars shone in the open sky.

“Suga, this is so beautiful.” You turned around and kissed him as a thank you for showing you this beautiful place, his arms snaking around your form.

“There’s a reason I wanted to bring you here.”

“And what’s that?”

“When I look at the reflection of the moon on this water I can’t help but think how the moon and the water are eternal companions. Some nights the moon shines for the water and the water sees it and receives it, but sometimes the moon can’t be seen or it’s covered. That, though, doesn’t mean that the moon isn’t there. I want to be your moon. I want you to know that, even when dark clouds are around, I’m always going to be there for you. So…” Suga released his arms from around you and got down on one knee, pulling a ring from his pocket. “Will you let me be your moon, Wanderer?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Suga placed the ring on your finger and immediately got up on his feet to kiss you, as happy tears ran down your cheeks.

You woke up crying again.

It seemed like ever since you left home that was all you could do. The first time it was due to dreams about your family and the past and now, it was all because of dreams about Suga and the future you could have had.

It’s been a month since you left everything behind, once again, and returned to your broken family. Everyone was relieved to see you, which came as a surprise to you. You thought everybody would have resent for you and even hate you, but the hugs your mother and sister gave you proved you wrong. Your mother said she understood perfectly why you did what you did, and so did your father, but they had to do it. They were worried about you, but somehow they knew that you were too strong and smart to let anything bad happen to you. And your little sister...she was so happy to see you that she wanted to be near you at every second, being scared that you would disappear again - something that truly tore you apart.

Your father had died of a fever, your mother had told you. She also confessed to you your father’s last words: “Please tell Y/N I’m sorry and that I love her.”

It was really hard not to blame yourself for letting your father die with resentment, but your mother made sure to reassure you that you couldn’t have known and that no one blamed you.

Ever since his funeral you barely had any time to think, which you were kind of grateful for because you knew that if you’d start thinking, your mind would go down on a spiral. You had to take care of all the affairs of the Kingdom, plus your coronation and your marriage. The coronation and the affairs went down fairly smoothly, you had to adjust a bit to being the new Queen, but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t been prepared for your whole life. Your marriage though...was a whole nother story. You knew you needed a suitable King and heirs, your Kingdom needed it. But the idea of marrying a man that’s not Suga completely broke you and all you could do was to push it deep down inside of you and repress it. Your mind though made sure to manifest your true feelings in the form of dreams.

The choice for your husband was quite a simple one. Your parents had already approved of him - the whole reason you ran away from home - so you decided that there was no better choice than him - the prince of Slavynia. You heard he was good, kind, handsome and more than willing to marry you. You didn’t care if he was handsome or not - your heart already belonged to another - but the fact that he was portrayed as kind definitely eased your mind. You had enough problems as it was, you didn’t need an evil husband added to the list.

The wedding preparations went down smoothly. You let your mother take care of everything except for the dress. Your sister Miri begged you to choose your dress and you just couldn’t say no to her.

Right now, you were standing in your room all ready to go. Your wedding dress was made of a deep red velvety fabric - embroidered with golden flowers - and it had a golden corset, with golden details and encrusted rubies and emeralds. The skirt was huge and you felt like it must weigh as much as a bear, but it did make you feel beautiful. Your crown was also really heavy but beautiful, it’s big ruby crystals on the gold metal matching perfectly with your gown.

“Your Majesty, it’s time to go,” one of your handmaidens said as she came into your room.

“Give me just one minute.”

“Of course,” she bowed down to you and left the room, closing the door behind her.

You made your way to your bed and sat down on its edge looking at the top drawer of your bedside table. You opened the drawer and pulled out its only content - the knife Suga had given you. You caressed the handle and remembered his sweet smile. You thought about how he was doing. Was he alright? Had he moved on? Did he think of you? Did he...hate you? Or did he understand what you did?

Tears were threatening to spill and you didn’t want to ruin your makeup so you kissed the handle, placed the knife back in the drawer and closed it shut.

This was it. As you stood in front of the big white and gold doors of your ceremonial hall and looked at the excited look on your little sister’s face you couldn’t help but feel nervous. This didn’t get to be the wedding of your dreams, with the man of your dreams but you wanted it to work out. You wanted the future King to be good to you and your family. You wanted him to be good to your people and help your Kingdom prosper. You wanted everyone to be happy, even if that meant that you were sacrificing your own happiness.

“Her Majesty Queen Y/N!” The announcer said, the big white doors soon opening in front of you.

Your little sister went in first, with her tiny little crown and her cute red velvety dress that she picked out on purpose to match yours. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched her enter the room while she threw red petals on the floor you were about to walk in.

Now it was your time to go. You held your head up high, straightened your back, took a deep breath and off you went.

As soon as you entered you looked straight ahead at the altar, wanting to see what your groom looked like, but he weirdly had his back turned on you. Was he against this wedding? You were so caught up in your feelings that you didn’t even imagine that your suitor could have the exact same feelings. But then you remembered that people told you that he was more than willing to marry you. Then, why wasn’t he looking at you? Maybe he was just nervous.

You were getting closer and closer to him and each time you could observe more details. His black hair, his long fidgety fingers that he kept behind his back. Then, suddenly, he turned around and extended his hand to help you climb the stairs. It was then that your heart stopped.

“Suga?!” You almost fell to the ground, but thank God he had your hand.

“Hello, your Majesty,” he bowed to you, kissing the back of your hand in the process.

“W-what’s happening? What are you doing here? W-what about Prince Yoongi?” Your head was spinning and you truly felt like you could pass out at any minute.

“I am Prince Yoongi,” he got closer to your ear and whispered: “Wanderer.”

You wanted to say something. You had one million questions, but the truth was you were barely capable of breathing properly right now, much less speaking.

Suga saw your difficulty in talking and decided to explain everything.

“Remember I told you I also ran away from home? Well, my parents wanted to marry me off to some Princess I didn’t even know and that didn’t sit right with me. Sound familiar?”

You laughed. You laughed so loud that everyone in the hall was looking at you like you were crazy but, how could you do anything but laugh?

“So you mean to tell me that we both ran away from home because we didn’t want to marry each other and ended up doing just that?”

“Yes.” You both started laughing, this time not so loud.

“You can’t imagine how I felt when I read your letter…” he placed his hand on your cheek and you leaned into his touch. God, you missed him so much. “As soon as I figured out who you were I picked up everything and went back home, and…” he leaned in once more to whisper to you. “I took two idiots with me.” He nodded his head to the back of him where your friends Namjoon and Hoseok stood.

“Who’s that with Hoseok?” You asked, referring to the young blond he was holding hands with.

“Ugh, don’t even ask…” He rolled his eyes and you just couldn’t help but smile. You couldn’t wait to hear him brag about how he conquered her and what he and Namjoon have been up to.

“You’ll tell me later. For now, I can’t wait to get married to you,” you kissed him on the cheek.

“Let’s do it then, Wanderer.”

84 notes · View notes

noladyme · 4 years

Text

The Frog Princess. Chapter 2

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria. In stead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All soundtracked by a endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

The rank smell of rotten seaweed and fish woke me up.

“Ah. The lady awakes!”, Jaskier scowled at me from where he was standing at the railing. His face looked as I was feeling. Nauseous and miserable.

“You slept all morning”, he said, clutching a handkerchief; occasionally holding it to his mouth. “Are we there yet?”, he called to the fisherman. “It’ll be a few hours yet, good bard. Try singing a song; it might take your mind of your stomach”. Jaskier heaved a few times, before leaning over the railing, and parting with his breakfast.

I wrinkled my nose at the sight, and stood up; feeling stiff and uncomfortable. Walking towards the middle of the ship, I almost fell over. “Sea legs not strong?”, the witchers gravelly voice said. He was wiping down a long sword, that looked as if it was completely made out of silver.

“I’m a Skelliger. My sea legs are perfect. I’m just hung over”, I sneered. ”For a Skelliger, I don’t know which would be more embarrassing”, the witcher smirked. It was only the third time I’d seen him smile. It wasn’t unpleasant; but I couldn’t let it distract me.

“Why Attre?”, I asked. “Going through Cintra Capital would be faster. You wouldn’t have to drag me as far”. “Are you saying I will have to drag you?”, he asked. “You’re avoiding the question”, I retorted.

“The Capital would be the obvious move; and could possibly bring armies to the gates of the city”. He looked worried for a second.

“I suppose I wouldn’t want to bring that on Calanthe”, I said. He raised a brow at me. “You like her”, he said, more as a statement than a question. “I respect her”, I said. “I don’t agree with all her politics, but she’s strong, stubborn and intelligent; and she has her peoples best in mind”.

“What makes you so sure that she knows what is best?”, he asked, looking at me. “I’m not. But that’s not the point”. I pulled my cloak around me; shielding myself against the cold afternoon sea breeze. “Her people have roofs over their heads, full bellies and well stocked markets”. “And the elder folk?”, the witcher challenged.

“That is a subject she and I disagree on. But, wrong or right, she doesn’t take shit from any man. Not even my cousin can tame her. I think that’s why he loves her so much”. I smiled to myself. The witcher held back a laugh, and continued his task; leaving me to find something to soothe my upset stomach.

---

We made landfall – about 10 miles south of Attre – as the sun was setting; once again leaving us to ride through the dark. The witcher had declined Jaskiers plea to take a room at an inn for the night; making the bard sulk as we traipsed through the forest.

The witchers decision fit my plan well; as I didn’t think it would be good to have to sneak out of a crowded inn; leaving witnesses in my wake. I’d rather disappear quietly into the forest as the witcher slept. I hadn’t caught him resting yet, and I figured we’d soon need to stop for the night.

Reaching a small glade, the witcher built a fire, and we made to have supper – fried fish; from the catch the fisherman had been so kind as to let us have a small ration of.

The color having returned to Jaskiers face; his mood had also lifted. He was tuning his instrument, and struck a few chords, earning a groan from the witcher. “I forgive you”, the bard said. “What?”, I asked, confused. “For being rude… and making me steal Eists horse”.

I snickered. “I didn’t make you do anything”, I said. “I just told you a white lie, to get you to stop moaning like a child about having to walk”. Jaskier tightened his lips. “Well, I forgive you anyway”, he said, with an insincere smile. “It must be difficult to be taken from your home, and shuttled of into the arms of a man you don’t know”.

I wanted to punch him in his handsome face; but simply nodded. “Thank you very much. That is very kind of you”.

His eyes warmed. “I’ve actually been working on a little tune for you, my lady”. The witcher looked up at him; with his eyes willing him to shut up – to no avail.

The bard strung a major chord.

“Lady, my lady, your beauty is rare. Your eyes have the power, a man to ensnare. Princess, oh princess, with skin so smooth. Your beauty is great; though your mouth is uncouth”.

I chuckled.

“Foul mouthed lady, be kind onto me And I’ll be your thrall, I will never flee. Foul mouthed princess, have mercy, I plea And I shall be ever a servant of thee”.

I clapped my hands, laughing at his little ode. He was a fine singer, and seemed like a goodhearted man underneath his pretty boy exterior.

“That was… different”, I laughed. “Well it’s from the heart”, Jaskier smiled.

“Do you want to draw in the wolves?”, the witcher snarled at us. “Well, pardon me for trying to lighten the mood, Geralt. Would you rather have the young lady sulking the whole night?”, Jaskier said. “She can do whatever she wants, as long as she stays quiet; and finishes making dinner”.

“I’m not cooking”, I said, looking at the fish hanging from the stick he handed me. “If you want to eat; you are”, he said. “Shove it up your ass”, I snarled. “I’ll shove it up yours”, he answered; and probed the stick into my hand.

I was about to whack him over the head with it, when Jaskier stepped in, and grabbed the fish from me. “I’ll do it, princess”.

“Stop calling me a fucking princess!”, I shrieked; an owl fleeing from a nearby tree at the sound of my voice. Jaskier stifled a smile. “I can’t imagine why you haven’t been married yet”, he chuckled. “Can’t even cook…”, he mumbled, and walked towards the fire.

“I can cook just fine”, I said. “I can cook, bake, sow and milk a fucking cow with the best of them. I just won’t. I don’t like being told what to do…”, I said. “Because you’re spoiled”, the witcher said, voice bored. “You know nothing about me”, I answered.

I went to stand by the fire; warming my hands. Jaskier served us the fish a few moments later, and we ate quietly.

“You could let me go”, I said, breaking the silence. “No”, said the witcher. “You’re my contract”. “In that case all you need is a head. I saw a fresh grave a few miles back. Foltest doesn’t know what I look like; you could pop back and dig her up”. “Her?”. The witcher suddenly seemed interested.

“There was a plank with her name and age on it. It could work”, I jeered. His eyes met mine.

“Get some sleep”, he said; pulled out his sword, and laid it next to him, before he laid down himself, head resting on his folded-up cloak. “Jaskier, you take first watch”. The bard rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir. Would you like a foot massage while I’m at it?”. “Do what you want. Just don’t wake me up”.

He closed his eyes, and seemed to fall asleep instantly.

I laid down; trying to make myself comfortable. I’d slept on bare ground before, but the treetops were to close together for me to be able to see the stars; so, I wasn’t enjoying the experience as I’d done then.

Just wait, I thought, have patience. Let the bard get drowsy.

I heard a small snore from near the fire. Jaskier hadn’t been able to stay awake long. Now or never.

I crawled to my feet, and ran.

---

My skirts were catching on the thickets, and it was difficult to find my way. I knew I had to find a place where I could see the sky; and find the north star. I didn’t know why I would go north, but I needed a direction.

There was a crackle of twigs behind me; and I looked back to see a deer running in the opposite direction. Sighing in relief, I continued; lifting my skirts around me, to free my legs.

I felt a sudden pang of fear from the fact that I was running in a strange forest in a strange land; without direction or goal.

Where am I going?, I thought. I can’t run back to the harbor. A village? If I find a village, I can maybe pay my way onto a carriage, get to Cintra Capital, and find passage home… If they’ll take me back.

I heard a hoot, and the sound made me trip over my legs in surprise. You win this one, owl!, I thought. Getting back onto my feet, I noticed my dress was stuck on a branch. I desperately tried to get it lose without ripping it, and I heard running behind me. My heart climbed into my throat. With a hard yank, the skirt came lose, leaving a long tear on the side of it.

“Shit”, I whispered to myself; picked up my skirts again, and ran on.

Reaching a small stream, I searched franticly for a spot to cross it, that wouldn’t get me soaked. I saw a stone sticking up over the water a few yards further on, and ran towards it; jumping onto it tentatively. It didn’t sink. Looking at the opposite side of the water than from where I came, there was a tuft of grass that seemed dry. I held my breath, and jumped again.

One of my feet landed on dry land, the other sank into the mud. I couldn’t feel a bottom, and panicked, leg stuck from my thigh down.

“What are you doing, little frog?”.

The witcher was looking down at me. He had crossed the stream without as much as a drop of water touching his boots, and at that moment I hated him more than I had hated anyone before.

“Leave me alone!”, I yelled. “No”, he said, and sauntered up to me; grabbing my thigh, and pulling me free from the mud. “You are coming back with me”, he said, and took a hold of my arm.

I saw a broken branch on the ground, grabbed it; and swung it at him, narrowly missing his head, as he drew back with inhuman speed. His confusion gave me enough time to set of running again, and I made it about 10 seconds, before two strong hands gripped my waist, swung me around, and threw me to the ground.

The witcher was laying on top of me; holding both my wrists above my head, and pinning my legs with his own. “Stop struggling!”, he said; not allowing me to move my hands. “Let me go”, I yelled; and tried to make my knee meet his groin, unsuccessfully. He bared his teeth.

“You are not playing nice, little frog”, he said; getting up – and threw me over his shoulder, to carry me back. I kicked, hit him and screamed as loudly as I could. Reaching my hand around, and scratching him across his face; he finally put me down.

“That hurt”, he growled. “Good!”, I sneered back at him; and went for another hit. His hand caught my wrist; and holding on to it, he backed me up against a tree; pinning me to it, by putting his knee between my legs and lifting it, until my feet no longer touched the ground. “You might just be more hassle than you’re worth; but I made a deal, and I intend to honor it!”, he hissed; eyes ablaze.

My voice hitched, partly from fear – and partly from the sensation of his knee between my legs. “Are you going to punish me now, witcher?”, I said; a small part of me hoping for a yes.

His hand flew to my throat; holding it, and squeezing it lightly. “Don’t. Play. With. Fire”, he said as calmly as he could – which wasn’t very. His face so close to mine, I could feel his warm breath on my skin. I bit my lip; unable to control the smile that ghosted across my face. Then he let me go.

Landing with a bump on the ground, I felt a sharp pain in my knee. I had landed on a stone, that had cut open a gash about two inches wide.

“Fuck”, the witcher grumbled above me.

I struggled not to cry; but couldn’t hold back a whimper, when I touched the wound.

“Let’s go”, the witcher said; picked me up, and began walking back towards the camp, carrying me all the way.

“Where were you?”, Jaskier said, voice panicked; as we came back into the light of the fire. “You fell asleep”, the witcher grumbled; and set me down on the ground. He fetched a small pouch from his satchel, and kneeled down next to me, lifting my skirt above my knee to tend to it. “Well, it’s been a very trying day”, Jaskier retorted; and went to poke at the fire, making the embers light up.

“He’s sensitive”, the witcher said, and looked at my wound. “Am not!”, Jaskier said; hurt. “I’m just not accustomed to being left alone in the middle of the woods with nothing to protect myself but my lute”. “If someone came to rob you, you could always sing to them. Might make them turn around and leave”. Jaskier gasped. “Well!... I never!...”, he said, and puffed his chest out, before laying down; his back to us. “I’m going to sleep”.

The witcher poured some water onto a piece of cloth, and began rinsing the dirt and blood away from my knee. I hissed at the sting from his touch; and tried to pull my leg away from him. He grabbed my calf, and held it in place. “Sit still”. “I can clean my own wounds”, I said. “I’m sure you can. But you landed in some blood moss, and I don’t want it to fester”, he retorted; and pulled out a small flask. “This will sting. It wasn’t made for humans to use; but it’ll cauterize the wound”. He looked at me seriously. “Hold on to me”.

He put my wounded leg over his own; took a firm hold of my ankle; leaning, so that I couldn’t see what he was doing. I took a hold of his arm; and held my breath. A sudden excruciating burning sensation spread across my knee; making me scream from the pain. I threw my arms around his bicep, and pressed my forehead into his shoulder, sobbing. “Shh”, he said. “It’s done”. I felt his thumb stroke my calf; and the feeling made a warmth spread up my leg; towards my core – mixing pain with pleasure I didn’t know how to react to.

I lifted my head, and our eyes met. His shone in the light of the fire, at once shallow and bright; at the same time deep as an amber ocean, hiding secrets below. He was excavating my own, it seemed – drawing out my deepest desires, fears and insecurities. It was disconcerting and intriguing all at once.

Remembering himself, he looked down at my knee. “There”, he said, handing me a bandage. “You can wrap it up now”. Where the gash had been was now and angry red line covered in small blisters. It stung, but I could tell that it would probably heal well.

I was wrapping the bandage around my knee; when a hollow shriek broke the silence.

“Would you stop screaming, woman?”, Jaskier yelled, and sat up. “He already fixed your bloody wound…”.

“Shut up!”, the witcher hissed. He was standing alert, looking into the dark. “Ger…”, Jaskier began. “Sshh!”.

The witcher picked up his sword from the ground. “Stay by the fire!”. He drew a complex figure in the air, and a purplish haze rose around us.

From behind the trees a grey mist drew closer. “I told you we should have stayed at an inn”, Jaskier whimpered.

I drew my hidden knife, and stepped forward. “Stay back”, the witcher growled; not taking his eyes of the mist. “It’s a moonwraith!”. “Oh, gods”, Jaskier said, his face once again turning green. “I’d do what he says”.

From the mist floated a spectre; screaming and moaning. Its face was horrifying – a long tongue hanging out of a jawless mouth. Its eyes were two large holes, and tattered rags hung from its thin limbs, not leaving the creature with any modesty.

The witcher held his sword with both hands, and stepped forward to face it. My whole body was shaking; and I realized that it was because Jaskier was holding on to my arm; shivering in fear.

The witcher slashed at the figure; making it draw back with an anguished roar. It swept forward, and our protector rolled across the ground to avoid it. He got back on his feet gracefully, flanking the spectre; and gutting a gash into its side – gray fog streaming out where blood should have been.

The witcher sprang for his satchel; grabbing a small bottle, that looked like the one he had used for my knee. He poured the content over his sword quickly, before putting the bottle to his lips, taking a small sip. He groaned, and fell back a step.

I ran forward, slashing at the ghost with my knife. It shrieked, and swung at me. There was a hard hit to my side; and I flew across the ground; landing near the fire; inside the ward the witcher had put up for us.

He looked back at me; his amber eyes gone. They were now black, and his skin impossibly white and grey. He looked like he walked the thin line between life and death – death not taking him, but strengthening him instead. The sight was terrifying.

He roared, and jumped into the air; slashing his sword through the spectre, making it tumble in the air, and fall back. He lifted his hand, and a force – like a gush of hard wind – flowed from out from it; pushing the creature against a tree. The witcher made a different sign in the air; and the spectre became more corporeal in its appearance.

He lifted his sword a final time; and slashed downwards; splitting the creature in half. A final scream, making the ground shake – and there was only quiet.

My heart was beating so hard and fast that I thought I could see it through my chest.

The witcher turned around – his ghastly white face sprayed with black blood. He marched up to me with impossible speed, and grabbed my arm; drawing me in so close that our faces almost crashed together.

“I told you to stay by the fire!”, he roared at me; black eyes digging into to me. “You could have been killed, you stupid girl”.

“Geralt…”, Jaskier tried calmingly, his knees still shaking.

Grabbing me by the back of my neck; the witcher bared his teeth into a sneer. “I should have let her have you!”. He pushed me away harshly, letting me land on my bottom. I was frozen in place.

“Geralt”, Jaskier said again, stepping between us. “She didn’t know. She was trying to help”. “I don’t need help”, answered the witcher; and stomped away to clean up.

Jaskier crouched next to me. “Best leave him alone a little while”. He patted my shoulder.

I didn’t move for a long time. I couldn’t feel the heat from the fire, nor could I move to get closer to it. I just sat there, cold and strangely devastated by the situation. In the end, I simply laid down, crawling in to myself; and fell asleep.

---

Thanks for reading.

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list.

- no lady

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix #the witcher fic #the witcher #jaskier

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piperjistic · 3 years

Text

"Hey Bulb, whatcha doin?" He waves, glowing slightly brighter and turns back to the space abyss.

"Looking back at space, huh?" She strides over and sits down next to him, watching the gaseous sky twinkle rivers of colors and stars.

"Well, do you plans on doing anything else?" He looks over, emblem facing her. His fingers sign out: eye, touch, animal.

"Of course you would want to that. Last time we did that, we almost got trampled to death." Quickly, he waved his hands and signed out sorry. She sighs and grabs his hands with one of hers to silence him. "I know you're sorry, I know. It's alright, I enjoyed it, I'm not gonna lie."

Bulb symbolically sighs in relief with a forward head jolt. She cracks a grin, letting go of his metal fingers. "Do you have your journal ready?" He nods his head immediately, his bulb glowing brighter.

"Hmmm I don't know man, you don't seem to making any sound," She nudges at him playfully and smirks. "Maybe you should of had a bell installed so I can tell if you're actually excited or lying." His grew bright as he folded his arms and looked away from her, his imaginary chin & nose up and their bulb head tightly between his shoulders. "Awww you're trying to pouttttt~ So cuteeee~"

He shakes his head rapidly, light brightly flashing and messily signing out an angry message. Quickly, Fae shields her eyes & leans away before raising a open hand as a symbol of her surrender.

"Easy now- easy! Easy Bulb! You know I can't understand you like that- also you're blinding me!" He curtly nods, knowing very well of his effect and goes back to pouting, "looking" away from Fae.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. Now where did you want to go today?"

His light dampens to normal, allowing Fae to see again and let down her guard. When she does, he lifts his pointer finger up as he has an idea.

- _ - _ -

Quietly as possible, they crouch low to the ground as they duck walk pass the trunks & shrubbery. Fae frowning as she remarks to her lightheaded friend. "This is stupid idea Bulb, and the most painful."

His metallic finger is pressed against her mouth, Bulb's glow dampens. She, of course, removes them and blows hair strains out of her face. "You're hands are cold Bulb, and what's-"

He shoves a hand to her mouth and uses the other to drag her up to the view. She gasps and slowly pulls down his hand, taking in the view. She glances over to Bulb, seeing his imaginary wide eyes and smiles.

"Luffians, this world's most magical creatures... Heh... They glow just like you Bulb." He nods rapidly, before turning his sights back on the prancing creatures. He leans forward on the bush, taking in their anatomy and playful nature. Bushes of soft illuminating fur coated their heads and bodies & ankles, large joyful eyes of purity stared around with their light coral skin.

In his mind, he smiled. He reaches out subconsciously, -could their coats be as soft yet weightless as described in the books- and falls flat on his lightbulb; alerting the alluring creatures of them. Fae quickly grabs Bulb's arm and pivots to the opposite direction. "Oh shit-welp lets get going Bulb-!"

Bulb pulls away from her harshly, forcing them both to fall flat on the ground. Above them now stood a few luffians whom cocked their heads to the side and sniffed them. One sniffed the lightbulb and sneezed, flying back a few meters and giving Bulb a small shock. He touches where he was shocked and rubs it, his light flashing in amusement. Their nose buzzes as they rose up unbalanced and sneezed again, sending a bolt of electricity to the ground.

"Holy shit..." The luffians crowding the duo shift their focus to them.

"Uh-Uh we mean no harm..!" Bulb stands up, revealing his stature. The creatures stare at them, and some walk a few steps closer. "Bulb..! You don't know if they're deadly! Well to you anyways- but still!"

Nonsense, Bulb signs as he waves her off and walks in the middle of the luffian batch. They surround him as he sits down, crisscross applesauce. The initial luffian bounces over and snuggles into his side, rubbing itself all over his dress. Slowly, another approaches and sniffs his fingers. Bulb reaches above its head & lightly scratches it.

He beamed brighter than he had before (well with one exception), blinding Fae; who yelped as she fell back into the bush. He didn't notice as he was in bliss- it was truly true about the luffians coats. The luffian purred loudly, leaning into his hand completely.

Alluring, more came closer to him, some laid down to soak in the light, others continued to feed on the weeds & weed-fruits. His light flickered and piped down, however it didn't make much of a difference. A few piled on to him, snuggling him endearingly like he belonged. His robotic heart swelled; he hugged all that were in his lap. One stood up and rubbed its coat against Bulb's head, creating static electricity that shoot off into the sky when the creature sneezed. He pats them back down and scratches their neck & back, loud purring followed. Now that he got a better look at it, the hairs of the coat shimmered with a small barely visible electric-like current traveling through them. Hmmmm there was a study on them sometime ago about a theory- Hey!

He ripped his journal out of the glittering creature's mouth next to him. They baa at him and lays back down. Bulb shakes his head, opening it up to a new page, and takes out a pen from his sleeve.

-_-_-

Fae opens her eyes, massaging her temple. She mummurs as she sits up. "Thank Qwaud that headache passed..... Wait where's Bulb???"

Jumping on her feet, she looks in all directions ready to sprint, until seeing her friend have puffy creatures lay all over him; claiming him as theirs. She raises a brow, strolling over one foot at a time.

"I guess you're a king now Bulb, how do ya feel?" He simply shrugs, lightly scratching a snuggling luffian's coat while sketching the creatures in his journal. She takes a seat beside him, a luffian sits in her lap while another lays next to her. Unconsciously Fae scratches the creatures side, her eyes focused on Bulb.

"This really is your purpose... Creature hugger and nomad." Bulb nods, scribbling notes quicks before dragging his fingers down the page then shutting the book. Etched into the cover was a cross with a circle sitting near the end for each line that held another small circle; a symbol standing for 53 in hieroglyphs.

"I like the idea. One day, you'll take over the city and be it's king...! Hopefully I'll be your royal adviser right, hah!" He only nods, lying back into a luffian resting behind him. If he could smile, he would as his bulb shined brighter. The luffians near him shined brighter as well.

Fae sighs and lays back next to him. "Hmph, he's practically at home....." She grins, staring up at the stars. "Finally adjusted and all, I'm proud.”

She laughs to herself, Bulb glances over curiously. "I practically raised you like a child... Yet here you are as my best friend," She glances over. "Fun how that works?"

This time he didn't nod, he slowly reached over with his hand and booped her nose then retracts his hands behind his head; she snorts and chuckles. "You are so strange Bulb. A strange little tin man you are; I wouldn't have it any other way."

#writing #Bulb #characters #original character #robot #writeblr

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

Text

Fight or Flight - Chapter 3: Adjustments

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4300

Rating: PG-13 (brief language)

Summary: Two hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: Let’s see what’s happening at the palace, shall we? This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist, linked here.

Liam let out a heavy sigh as Drake’s phone once again went to voicemail. It’s not like he expected anything else at this point. But it still was disconcerting.

Across his office, Hana locked eyes with him, shaking her head slightly, one hand holding her phone to her ear as she tried Riley yet again, her other hand gently massaging Maxwell’s shoulders. Maxwell sat on one of the couches, clutching a glass of water in his hand. He’d barely strung a sentence together since Barthelemy had revealed his plans. Liam was sure it was a shock, watching his father act in such a way, particularly when Barthelemy had to have known his plans would put him in opposition to one, if not both, of his sons. Bertrand was talking to his father now, apparently, and Liam had no clue what the result of that conversation would be.

Unfortunately, Liam hadn’t been able to provide much comfort to Maxwell. There were too many other factors he needed to address at the moment, as much as he would have liked to be there for a dear friend. Thankfully, Hana seemed to clearly understand this, and had taken to not drifting far from Maxwell, initially guiding him to a chair and sitting beside him at the table as Liam and Barthelemy had debated the finer details of Conventus Nobilis, taking his hand and rubbing his back, and not straying from him much since that point.

Of course, that first discussion had not gotten either side anywhere. A new royal line could only be established through a reigning monarch’s decree, as he had done with Princess Bridget, or through a Conclave, which was tightly regulated as to how and when it could occur. Liam felt confident of that fact. And while the head of a high noble house could submit him or herself for consideration to become monarch during a Social Season, that didn’t mean that anyone could just assume the role of regent after a no confidence vote. After such a vote, the next-in-line for the throne should serve as regent until the next available window for a Conclave. At least, that was how Liam understood the bylaws.

The issue was that this left a 10 month old as queen-regent, so she would need an acting regent during her own regency. It was messy and unclear and probably significantly up for debate who should serve as regent for Queen-Regent Bridget. Hence, Liam and Barthelemy retreating with their camps to different areas of the palace and attempting to find legal scholars who would be able to argue their side’s case. This whole debacle would most certainly end up being adjudicated.

At least, Liam wanted to be discussing this all with a legal team. It’s where his focus at the moment should be. A High Court judge could be procured at any moment for an emergency hearing, and Liam needed to prepare with someone who could clearly articulate his interests. But instead, he was frantically trying to track down Drake, Riley, and Bridget.

It had taken maybe a half hour for Liam to realize that the three of them hadn’t ever returned to the hall. Hana had pointed it out as they had made their way to his office while Olivia went to brief the team of lawyers on call for palace interests, one arm wrapped around Maxwell, keeping her voice low. There were very few palace employees Liam felt he could trust entirely, so he’d only informed Stefan, his assistant for the past two years, that the palace needed to be searched for the Walker family. Stefan had been with him since his coronation and had always been discrete and loyal. Plus, he’d informed Liam that he intended to resign at the end of this Social Season to take a job in the private sector that would allow him more free time to spend with his aging mother, so Liam could see no possible motivation for him to be playing both sides.

The search of the palace undoubtedly would have gone faster with more people, but Liam suddenly found himself in a world where he trusted very few of those around him. He’d never seen himself as paranoid before, usually trusting the people he worked with and had hired. But much like when Riley had been targeted during the Tariq photo scandal, he wasn’t sure who or how many meant him and those closest to him harm at this point. It was unsettling, frustrating, and patience-testing.

At first, Liam had figured that Drake and Riley were upset at the implications of everything for their daughter and had stepped out for some privacy at the overwhelming news. But when Stefan had returned, stating that he had not been able to locate the Walker family, Liam feared the worse. Sure, it was possible they had decided to return to Valtoria to discuss their next steps as a family, but in that case it would have been wiser to stay and hear exactly what had unfolded. Liam had to consider the fact that part of Barthelemy’s coup might have involved capturing or threatening Drake and Riley. He just wanted to hear from them, learn they were alright. But both of their phones just rang and rang endlessly before going to voicemail. Clearly, they were either unable to reach their phones, or unwilling to talk with him or Hana.

In his heart, all Liam wanted to do was storm down to the room where Barthelemy, Adelaide, Landon, and Kiara were plotting and scheming and insist upon answers as to where his friends were, demand their safety. But he couldn’t do that. For one, he had no idea if Barthelemy had anything to do with their disappearance. Additionally, he didn’t want to give their lawyers ammunition if they hadn’t realized the Walkers were missing. Liam knew that the fact that he had no idea as to Bridget’s location would be used as further evidence of his incompetence as king. He was just going to have to find Drake and his family himself.

Letting out a sigh, Liam sank down into his desk chair, dropping his elbows to the surface and holding his head in his hands. He honestly wasn’t sure what steps to take next at this point. Should he keep frantically calling Drake, or did he need to acknowledge he was very much at a dead end there? Would sitting down with his legal team be a better use of time, or would he be too distracted by the whereabouts of his friends to focus appropriately? That didn’t even touch on the hurt that was sitting deep in his soul at the thought of losing the crown, a title for which he’d worked his entire life to be worthy, even before he thought he might ever hold that title.

“Liam?” Hana’s voice cut through his thoughts, causing him to jerk his head up and lock eyes with her, now sitting on the couch with Maxwell. “Could Riley, Drake, and Bridget be hiding out in your mother’s secret room?”

While Liam wasn’t convinced they were still at the palace, he saw the wisdom of her question. Perhaps they had decided to go gain some privacy in a room that nearly no one knew about. He nodded gently. “It’s certainly a possibility.”

“I could go look and see if they’re there. That way, you could return to focusing on the matters pertaining to… to your reign.”

“That would be wonderful, Hana. Thank you.”

Hana gave him a timid little smile and nod before she stood, but as she made her way to the door, Maxwell spoke for what had to be the first time in the past hour.

“I’ll go with you, Hana.”

“Oh, Maxwell. Thank you, but you don’t need to do anything,” Hana said, “I’m sure this is all stressful enough for you.”

Maxwell just shook his head, “We have no idea what happened to Drake, Riley, and Bridget. If someone is kidnapping Liam’s supporters, you shouldn’t be wandering around the palace alone.”

Hana’s eyes flew open wide. “You really think they were kidnapped?”

Maxwell glanced over at Liam, making eye contact briefly before giving a little shrug and shaking his head. “No really. But I think it’s a possibility.”

“What do you think happened to them, Maxwell?” Liam asked, glancing down at his phone to make sure he didn’t have any new notifications.

Maxwell was silent for a moment, but when he spoke, he sounded resigned. “I think they fled. Can’t say I blame them.”

Liam nodded slowly. It was a fear he’d had as well. He couldn’t picture Drake taking such steps on his own, but he was less certain about Riley. And it did feel possible that Riley could have convinced Drake it was the best course of action.

“So, if they fled the palace, where did they go?” asked Hana, her fingers playing with the ends of her hair nervously. “We took a limo here from Valtoria since it was the start of the Social Season, so it’s not like they had their car.”

“They’re in Lythikos.” Olivia’s voice surprised Liam. She apparently caught Maxwell and Hana off guard as well as their eyes were wide as they twisted to face the back door to Liam’s office. “Or rather, they will be soon, presuming Ray makes good time.”

“What are you talking about, Olivia?”

“Riley was flipping out completely,” she responded with a shrug as she strode into the room and sank down onto the couch opposite Maxwell, crossing her legs with a dramatic flourish, “She was planning to just make a run for it on foot, so I sent her to my driver and told her to head to my keep. Then I sent Drake after her. I figured we’ll all end up there to plan our next steps anyway.”

“So they’re all safe?” Hana asked.

“I have no reason to believe anything else.”

Liam scrambled to process everything Olivia had just revealed. It was reassuring that at least someone seemed to have an idea where they were, but something about the entire situation still bothered him. “If that’s the case, then why have they been ignoring our calls?”

Olivia’s eyebrows shot up at that, but it was Maxwell who responded, “Because they aren’t going to Lythikos.”

“Then where-”

“Oh, I have no idea where, but I am guessing they are trying to get out of Cordonia.”

“Why the hell-” Olivia started, but Liam held up a hand, stopping her rant before she could really get going.

“Why would you say that, Maxwell?”

“When those photos of Tariq and her surfaced, she wanted out of Cordonia. Like really badly. It took a lot of effort for Bertrand and me to convince her to stay.”

“But surely it’s different now,” Hana added, frowning, “She has a full life here. This is her home.”

The corner of Maxwell’s lips quirked up as he gave Hana a little half shrug. “All I’m saying is that Riley’s instinct was to run then, and it might be the same now. And Drake isn’t exactly great at saying no to her.”

A silence fell over the room, everyone processing Maxwell’s words and determining how likely they believed them to be true. It hurt, thinking that his best friend and his wife, someone Liam considered a friend as well, might have left him to fend for himself to deal with an attempted coup, but Liam couldn’t deny that Maxwell’s hypothesis felt like a very reasonable explanation for Drake’s absence and radio silence. But Liam couldn’t bring himself to verbally agree with Maxwell, to admit that the person he trusted most in the world had likely left him in the midst of a terrible predicament. After a few seconds of tense stillness, Olivia pulled her phone out, frantically scrolling down her screen.

“They haven’t answered for Liam or me,” Hana said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder, but Olivia shrugged her off quickly.

“They might be ignoring everyone, but Ray won’t fucking ignore me,” she growled out.

“Olivia, wait,” Liam said, trying to figure out his best approach as quickly as possible.

“Are you kidding me, Liam? They might be trying to leave the country!”

“I know. In fact, it seems increasingly likely that is the situation here. But we need to think this through fully before we dive into any course of action.”

Olivia stood up at that, stalking over to Liam’s desk and leaning over, placing her hands flat on the surface, her scowling face towering over him. “You realize what happens if they cross the border with her, right?” her tone was dry, harsh, and demanding.

“Yes, I do indeed comprehend what’s at stake here.”

“They’ll be guilty of kidnapping. The reigning monarch has legal custody of all direct heirs who are minors.”

“Correct.”

“Kidnapping the heir to the throne is fucking treason, Liam.”

“Yes.”

“On what planet is letting them get labeled enemies of the state in our best interest?”

Liam glanced past Olivia, to Maxwell, just sitting there with his eyes closed and his head bowed, and Hana, her jaw slack and her eyebrows so high they were completely hidden by her fringe. He let out a sigh before returning his eyes to Olivia’s. “In a scenario where Drake and Riley have different goals than we do.”

“Are you saying what I think you are, Liam?” The fire in her eyes was scorching, but Liam held his ground.

“Not exactly, but to a certain degree, yes. My priority needs to be on preventing Barthelemy from staging this coup. If Drake and Riley are focused on something else, perhaps we should let them do what they need to do at this point.”

“But, Liam-”

“No, Olivia. If you call your driver and get their location confirmed, I will have to act on that knowledge. If I know the details of a plan to kidnap Cordonia’s heir, I will have no choice but to charge them with treason and attempt to bring them into custody or risk lending credence to Barthelemy’s claims that I am an ineffectual king. My ignorance here is better for everyone involved.”

Olivia huffed, but she dropped down into one of the chairs on the other side of the desk, leaving her phone sitting on the surface and throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. I’ll wait, Your Majesty.”

The tension in the room was nearly unbearable, Olivia’s anger, Hana’s worry, and Maxwell’s dejection all nearly palpable. But Liam didn’t know what else to do. Confirmation that Drake and Riley were fleeing Cordonia was information that would only hurt his case. And honesty, the longer Drake and Riley had to get where they were going before someone was forced to take action was probably better for them as well.

“So…” started Hana, clearly trying to break the uncomfortable silence, “what do we do now?”

Liam swallowed, before he started sorting through some of the documents he’d gathered while they were waiting for Stefan to search the palace. “Now, I focus on the legal matter of protecting my title and discrediting Barthelemy’s claim. If you need to focus on other matters, I understand, but I ask that you leave my office if that is the case.” He hadn’t meant for his words to sound quite so harsh, but the truth was that at this point, he had no time or mental energy to devote to Drake and Riley and their family. It seemed likely they were safe. It just also seemed likely that he couldn’t count on them as allies anymore, a reality he didn’t feel quite ready to accept.

No one moved toward the door, but three sets of eyes stared at him, cautious and unsure. He let out a little breath and shook his head slightly, which seemed to calm Maxwell a bit, at least. Not able to afford wasting any additional time worrying about the conduct of two adults he had no control over, Liam glanced to Olivia to redirect the topic of conversation. “So, you spoke with the palace legal team?”

She paused for just a second, staring at him intently before she responded, “I did. They’ve gathered in my assigned quarters for the Social Season to start devising a strategy.”

“Were you able to pull Rashad aside and ask if he’ll lead the team?” Unwilling to announce everything that was unfolding to all the nobles gathered for the start of the Social Season, Liam had taken Olivia up on her offer to discreetly organize the palace lawyers on retainer and to find Rashad amongst the mingling crowds and inform him of the situation. It’s not that Liam didn’t trust his standard legal team, but he thought Rashad’s position as both a lawyer and a member of the nobility might give him some unique insights.

“I spoke to him, but he politely declined. He’s served as legal counsel for both you and House Beaumont before, so he thought this would be a dicey area when it comes to conflict of interest.”

“Fair enough. I suppose-”

A knock on the door cut off Liam’s reply. After a moment, Stefan stepped into the office. “Your Majesty, Duke Bertrand Beaumont was hoping to have a word.”

Liam nodded. “Just give us one minute, Stefan. Then you can send him in.” As soon as Stefan closed the door behind him, Liam addressed the three people still left in the room. The only three people at court he felt he could trust at the moment.

“Not a word of our suspicions regarding Drake, Riley, and Bridget to Bertrand. At least not yet. Maxwell, are you okay with that?”

Maxwell gave a small nod, but his face looked grim. “He’s not gonna side with our father, Liam. I hope you know that.”

“I have hope that will be the case as well, but I’ve already been caught completely off guard several times today, and quite frankly, even one time was too many. We play things close to the vest for the moment, alright?”

Maxwell nodded again, and after several tense moments, the door swung open again as Stefan allowed Bertrand into the office.

“Your Majesty, if I may apologize profusely for the conduct of House Beaumont.” The words were spilling from Bertrand before the door was even shut behind him. “I had no idea my father intended such traitorous actions when I allowed him more involvement in-”

Liam raised a hand, stopping Bertrand’s inevitably lengthy apology. “Thank you, Bertrand. I appreciate the sentiment, but I do not hold you accountable for your father’s crimes.”

A little sigh escaped Bertrand before he continued, “Thank you, Your Majesty. I wanted to offer my assistance in blocking my father’s attempted coup.”

“How so?”

“I believe that an argument can be made that he is not the proper or official head of House Beaumont. I formally and officially took over duties with his illness years ago, and even though he has resumed some of those duties over the past several months, he never reclaimed his title as Duke of Ramsford.”

Olivia’s eyes widened at that, tilting her head towards Liam. “That could work, couldn’t it? If Barthelemy never had the authority to call Conventus Nobilis-”

“Then any votes called by the body might not be legitimate. Bertrand, would you mind going to speak with my legal team? They will presumably want to clarify some information, but this could be very helpful.”

“Of course,” Bertrand said with a little nod. “Where would I find them?”

“They’re in my quarters,” said Olivia. Bertrand nodded and stiffly turned back toward the door he’d just come through. Before he left, Liam called out to him.”

“Thank you, Bertrand. We’ll be just a few minutes behind you. Would you mind sending Stefan in on your way out?”

Bertrand nodded in acknowledgement before opening the door. Within seconds, Stefan was entering the room.

“You require me for something else, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, I need you to start reviewing staff files on anyone who was hired to work at the palace over the past seven or so months, ever since Barthelemy Beaumont took a more active role in managing his family’s estate and lands.”

“Of course,” Stefan said with a curt nod, “Anything else?” Liam kept his focus on him, ignoring the blistering stare that was coming from Olivia.

“Prioritize the files of any employee who has any connections to Ramsford. You should use my private quarters for this research. Do not tell anyone what you are doing.”

Stefan exited the office, ready to take on his task. Liam stood from his desk, collecting his stack of documents he’d started reviewing regarding the last Conclave from several hundred years ago. “Alright, let’s all go join Bertrand.”

Hana and Maxwell both nodded and moved towards the door, but Olivia remained seated, grabbing Liam’s wrist and stopping him in his tracks.

“Are we not going to talk about your little mission you just gave your assistant?” she asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Olivia, I need to make sure I am not surrounded by snakes.”

“But Liam, don’t you think-”

Bzzzzrt… bzzzzrt

Olivia’s argument was cut off by Liam’s phone vibrating on his desk, the name “Drake” glowing at the top of the screen.

Everyone in the room just seemed to stare at the phone for a few seconds. Liam swiped to answer the call and quickly flipped the call to speakerphone, placing a finger to his lips as he did so. He was going to need to be very careful about the way he approached this conversation.

“Drake, are you alright? Are Riley and Bridget with you?” he asked, bracing his hands along the edge of his desk.

“They’re with me, and we’re all okay.” Drake’s words were a massive relief in some respects, a horrible confirmation in others. “What’s going on with you guys? Were you able to stop Barthelemy?”

“Not yet, we’re trying to find a judge to conduct an emergency hearing. Where are you? Are you in Lythikos yet?”

There was no immediate reply, Drake’s pause seeming to stretch on for a lifetime. His tone was clipped and gruffer than before when he finally broke the silence. “No, we aren’t in Lythikos.”

“Drake…”

“I’m so sorry, Liam. I really am. But we had to-”

“Stop!” cried out Olivia. Liam shot her an annoyed look, but she wasn’t paying him any attention, just staring at his phone.

“Olivia? Is that you?” Drake asked.

“Yes. I’m actually here with Liam. Now, we can’t talk long. We have to go meet with the lawyers, but before we do, I just thought I should confirm that you know that taking Bridget across the border would be seen as kidnapping, right? You don’t have legal custody over her, so to take her to another country would be treason. So, why don’t you think about that and I’ll give you a call back in a little bit and we can talk about this again, okay?”

There was another pause, shorter but somehow tenser this time, before Drake replied, “Okay.”

“And Drake,” Olivia said, her bright red thumbnail tapping rapidly against her chin, “if neither of you answer when I call back, I’ll have to call Ray and confirm that everything is going according to plan. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Good, we’ll talk soon.” And with that, Olivia reached across the desk and swiped to end the call.

“What was that, Olivia?”

“That was me preventing Drake from giving you information you’d have to act on,” she said as she crossed her arms across her chest. “You still know nothing of their whereabouts other than that I sent them to Lythikos and they haven’t arrived yet.”

“Olivia…”

“Is my statement inaccurate?”

Liam drew a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose as he slammed his eyes shut and let out a sigh. He was so sick of the constant scrambling and adjustments, everyone just frantically acting with their own agendas. “No,” he finally breathed out, “no, your statement is accurate.”

“Perfect. And that’s all you need to know. You said it yourself - your priority needs to be finding a legal angle to fight Barthelemy. You and Maxwell go take care of that; Hana and I will stay to talk with Drake and Riley, and we’ll tell you if there is anything you should know.”

Liam locked eyes with Olivia, very aware of her careful phrasing. It was a somewhat creative solution. If Olivia and Hana were the ones to get the information from Drake about the plan he had for his family, Liam had the ability to deny any further knowledge. And Olivia’s veiled threat to Drake would have been easy for him to comprehend - stay in Cordonia and head to Lythikos as planned, or face a treason charge. Even if they were already across the border, they could turn back now with no one knowing they had technically left. But the whole situation was dicey at best. It could all backfire so easily and dramatically.

“You’re playing with fire, Liv. You know that, right?”

She nodded solemnly. “I do. But someone needs to take care of this, and you need to focus on keeping your crown.”

Liam gave her a sharp nod, “Let’s both do what we need to do, then.” Grabbing his phone and his stack of documents, he joined Maxwell at the door. “Come on, Maxwell. We’ve got a coup to stop.”

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