#He normally wears them as pants but has been seen with it as a crown and chest plate- what would THAT look like? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reinerispretty · 4 years

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almost kings. atla fantasy!AU. (mako x f!reader)

hi everyone!! here is my new baby. it’s a oneshot so pls enjoy :)

SUMMARY: (y/n’s) not quite ready to take on the responsibility of ruling an entire kingdom. perhaps two brothers will be her saving grace.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to argue, but closed it. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She couldn’t just shove the kingdom into the hands of random people. She had to make sure they were worthy somehow.

“You never think things through,” Korra sighed, and (Y/N) scoffed.

“As if you’re any better!” She snatched the paper back from Korra. “I’m going into town to find them regardless. I just have to see.”

Korra pursed her lips, then nodded. “Fine, but I’m coming with you.”

“Absolutely not, you’ll ruin everything.”

“You wound me, Princess. Someone has to make sure these ruffians don’t kidnap you and I'm the only one I trust.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. There would be no arguing with Korra. She was as stubborn as a mule. “Shouldn’t that say something about your ability to train your men?”

“It says nothing about my ability, and everything about the fact that they are men.”

The castle felt the weight of the king’s passing in every crook, cranny, and crevice. The lanterns had lost their luster. The air felt heavier. Every member of the royal palace from top to bottom had become more solemn in the days after. But still, life continued as best as it could. There was a kingdom to run, after all.

It had been two months since the funeral service and the princess still remained in black, shrouding her face from view with a veil. The mourning process normally lasted a month at most, but to the public, Princess (Y/N) was taking her father’s death the hardest. She was rarely seen outside the castle walls anymore, nor did she explore the palace as she used to. “Poor girl,” they would whisper, over their cups of tea and mugs of beer. “Losing her father and her mother. Wonder if she’ll ever be ready to serve the kingdom.”

Her mother had died from a plague that had ransacked the city. (Y/N) had only been six. Now, at the age of twenty-one, she had lost her father to a stupid battle in a senseless war. She was all alone.

Contrary to what the people might think, she did not spend her time locked in her room, sobbing into her pillow. Instead, she read every book that accounted the history of her family lineage. As soon as her mourning period was over, (Y/N) would be expected to take the throne. She would be the queen of her kingdom, ruling from the highest mountaintops in the east to the shining seas in the west, but (Y/N) could think of nothing more she wanted less than the crown.

It was her duty. She always knew it would be, but part of her had hoped that somewhere along the line her father would birth a male heir and take the responsibility off of her shoulders. (Y/N) did not believe herself fit to lead troops into battle, nor to discuss diplomatic matters with visiting dukes and duchesses. She could barely get through one ball without wanting to chuck her heel at some handsy prince’s head. So, she read. Somewhere along the line, there had to be someone else who could take the position from her. Someone who would be a great fit for king.

She finally found her answer late one night, as her eyes were so tired that they had difficulty focusing on the page. There, in a depiction of their family tree, to the left of (Y/N’s) king and great lineage, was a chance. Mako and Bolin, the handwritten letters read. Two brothers who were just about her age, from a line that would have indisputable claim to the throne if (Y/N) rejected it.

She jumped up from her bed, body thrumming with a newfound energy. She threw open her bedroom door, startling the sleeping guards that stood outside of it. With a bright smile on her face, she said, “Have my carriage ready by morning. We’re going into town!” She shut the door before either could question her.

(Y/N) exchanged her mourning clothes for her regular ones, choosing a cloth periwinkle dress with an ivory cloak on top, clasped with a broach that was the insignia of her family. Handmaidens pulled her hair back into a ponytail as Y/N informed them that she would be skipping breakfast. She was much too eager to get to town.

“The Captain of the Royal Guard is here to see you, your highness,” announced the guard at the door. (Y/N) batted the handmaidens away from her head, walking over to the door to open it herself. Captain Korra stood before her, wearing leather pants and a white tunic, with her sword sheathed at her side.

“It's nice to see you smile again,” Korra said as a greeting. “But what’s got you so overjoyed?” she strode into (Y/N’s) room nonchalantly, no doubt bristling some of the more traditional handmaidens. (Y/N) dismissed them quickly. She and Korra had been friends since they were children. She was instrumental in making her father see Korra’s value as a knight. But although it was Korra's dream to go off and fight for the sake of their kingdom, (Y/N) had been selfishly unwilling to let her go. She could not imagine losing korra as well.

“I have a plan,” (Y/N) said excitedly, gathering some of the things she would need today. She tore out the page from the book that depicted Mako and Bolin’s claim to the throne, shoving it into the very bottom of her satchel for safe keeping.

“A plan for what?” (Y/N’s) eyes glanced around the room. Quietly, she began to tell Korra her secret.

“I don’t want to rule the kingdom, so I’m finding someone who will.”

Korra choked on her own spit. “You’re not being serious, are you?”

“I'm afraid I'm deadly serious.”

“B-but you’re the princess. No one else can rule but you!”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Where father was wrong, where everyone was! I’ve been doing research, and there are two boys: Mako and Bolin.” She pulled out the piece of paper to show Korra, who scrutinized it heavily. “They’re the only ones who can take my place if I secede the throne. Which I will.”

“And if they’re dead?” Korra questioned. “Or they’re horrible people who will hoard all the wealth for themselves and leave the innocent peasants with nothing?”

“You never think things through,” Korra sighed, and (Y/N) scoffed.

“As if you’re any better!” She snatched the paper back from Korra. “I’m going into town to find them regardless. I just have to see.”

Korra pursed her lips, then nodded. “Fine, but I’m coming with you.”

“Absolutely not, you’ll ruin everything.”

“You wound me, Princess. Someone has to make sure these ruffians don’t kidnap you and I'm the only one I trust.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. There would be no arguing with Korra. She was as stubborn as a mule. “Shouldn’t that say something about your ability to train your men?”

“It says nothing about my ability, and everything about the fact that they are men.”

The carriage ride to the town was short, lengthened only by the throngs of people that gathered outside to gape at her presence. They shouted blessings as she passed by, some throwing flowers and others hurling curses. It was another aspect of being royalty that (Y/N) loathed. the attention was too much sometimes, and while she didn’t expect everyone in the kingdom to be fond of her family, she had difficulty not taking their words to heart.

She ordered the driver to stop inside the town square. He parked their carriage in front of the fountain and people already started to flock towards them out of curiosity. (Y/N) made a move to step out, but Korra grabbed her by the arm and shook her head. Korra stepped out first, looking both beautiful and formidable as she ordered the people to make way for the princess.

After a few moments, (Y/N) inhaled a deep breath, and stepped out into the bright sun. It was the first time she had been outside the castle walls in over two months. The sunlight seeped into her bones, warMing every part of her being. She squinted her eyes as they adjusted.

“Your majesty!” The people gasped, bowing and curtsying. (Y/N) smiled gratefully at them.

“It’s so lovely to see all of you,” (Y/N) told them, and she had meant it. There were a few familiar faces among the crowd and she waved at them, calling out their names to show that she remembered. That she cared.

Korra stood by her side, pulling her through the crowd. “I hope you’ve come up with a cover for why you’re in town. I don’t think the people will be very excited to hear that you’re giving up the crown.”

“Some might,” (y/n) noted, and Korra narrowed her eyes. “We’ll say that I’m…buying you a new sword.”

“I don’t need a new sword.”

“A dagger, then? Everyone loves a dagger.” She grabbed Korra by the hand and pulled her forward. (Y/N) had visited the town many times since she was little. Her mother had loved to read to the children in the town square, a tradition that had unfortunately fallen out of practice after the queen’s demise. (Y/N) had always meant to pick it back up again, but there was something stopping her.

She led Korra to the blacksmith, reasoning that if there was anyone who knew everyone in town, it would be them. They stepped through the door, a little bell tingling at their arrival, and were instantly hit with a blast of heat.

The blacksmith stepped through a curtain from the back, lifting their mask and revealing a beautiful girl with soft green eyes and an even softer smile. She looked far too mild to be a blacksmith, but if (Y/N) had learned anything from being friends with Korra, it was that one should never underestimate someone based on their appearance.

“Your Majesty,” The blacksmith said as she curtsied, removing her heavy gloves. “It’s an honor to have you in my shop. What brings you here?”

“My Captain of the Royal Guard is looking for a new dagger,” (Y/N) said, glancing up at Korra. The girl’s bright blue eyes were trained on the blacksmith and hadn’t left since they entered the shop. She looked stunned, her face just a shade pinker. “Isn’t that right, Korra?”

At the sound of her name, Korra snapped back to reality. “Right! Yes. dagger for captain. I’m the captain. Hi, I'm korra.” (Y/N) had to physically stop herself from wincing at her friend’s rambling.

“Nice to meet you,” the blacksmith said. “I’m Asami. What kind of dagger are you in the market for?”

(Y/N) knew absolutely nothing about weapons, so she looked at Korra, who seemed to be scrambling her brain for words. “Uh, sharp?” Korra offered.

Asami furrowed her brows and nodded. “Something sharp, then.”

“Maybe bronze?” (Y/N) questioned. “It will match the rest of your armor wonderfully.”

“I think I have a bronze dagger in the back, actually,” Asami said, and with another curtsy, she left them.

(Y/N) smacked Korra’s arm. “What is wrong with you!” she hissed.

Korra looked from where Asami had just been standing to (Y/N). “Did you see her? She’s the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen!”

“You’re acting so suspicious right now.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are!” Asami entered the room again, and both (Y/N) and Korra paused their argument to smile at her.

“One bronze dagger,” she said, leaning over the counter to show it to them. It was truly a beautiful work of art, with a tip so sharp it would certainly be deadly. The handle was worked into the intricate design of dragons breathing fire.

“You made this?” Korra questioned, her voice full of wonder. “It’s beautiful.” Her eyes locked with Asami’s and (Y/N) noticed both girls blush.

“I did, thank you. My father taught me everything i know.”

“You’re the best blacksmith I’ve ever met,” (Y/N) agreed. If the circumstances were different, she might invite Asami to become court blacksmith. But she would hate to invite the girl to the castle only to abandon her. “Do you like it, Korra?”

“Yeah, I like her,” Korra said, but her eyes were still trained on Asami. “The dagger,” she tried to recover.

“We’ll take it.” Asami smiled gratefully, pulling out her record book to record the sale. “I actually have a question for you, Asami, if you don’t mind humoring me.”

“Anything for you, your highness,” Asami replied brightly.

“Is there anyone in town by the names Mako or Bolin?”

Asami thought for a moment as she took the satchel of gold from (Y/N).

“I think...oh! the baker’s boys. The baker down the street has two apprentices, I think those are their names.”

(Y/N) grinned wildly, turning to Korra. Bingo.

As they left the blacksmith, Korra couldn’t stop turning the dagger over and over in her hands. She hadn’t thanked (Y/N) for her purchase, but she didn’t need to. Their friendship went beyond those kinds of formalities.

“Shall I up your pay so you can come back to town and visit the pretty blacksmith?” (Y/N) smirked. Korra had rarely had a crush throughout their lives. There was another knight she had once admired, but (Y/N) hadn’t been sure if Korra had wanted to kiss him or beat him in a fight. Or both.

“I certainly wouldn’t complain,” Korra snorted.

“I think she liked you too.”

“You’re making fun of me and it’s not nice.”

“I’m being serious! You were too dumbfounded to notice. It was like,” (Y/N) made explosion noises with her mouth and gestures with her hands. “Instant sparks.”

Korra remained silent for a few moments as they walked. “Asami is a pretty name, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) smiled as she pushed through the door to the bakery. “Absolutely.”

The smell of baked goods sent their mouths watering. Both girls had skipped breakfast, meaning their stomachs were rumbling excessively. They looked at the display cases, where an assortment of all kinds of goodies were laid out before them.

“Welcome to Bender Bakery!” said a cheerful voice at the counter. It was a boy, but his back was turned to them. “Care for a free sample?” He turned around and smiled, carrying a tray of mini croissants, but it clattered to the floor as soon as he laid eyes on them. “Oh!” he exclaimed, his green eyes wide. “Your majesty! I’m so sorry, I— should I bow? Should I pick these up? Pema’s going to absolutely throttle me.”

“It’s alright!” (Y/N) felt horrible for surprising the boy. “How about I pay you for those? And for two raspberry tarts?”

“Four,” Korra said, her voice low and her arms crossed as she eyed the boy. (Y/N) watched him gulp.

With a sigh, (Y/N) pulled out more coins. “Four raspberry tarts, please?”

His gaze returned to the princess and he smiled widely, the dazzle reaching his emerald green eyes. Although he was covered in a mess of flour, he was beautiful, with full cheeks and a rounded nose. His stature was broad, and (Y/N) tried to imagine a crown atop his curly black hair.

“I’m (Y/N),” she said as he swept the mini croissants up. “What is your name?”

He looked up at her, a faint blush on his cheeks. “I’m Bolin! Nice to meet you, your highness.” (Y/N) smiled widely. She had done it.

“Likewise. This is my Captain of the Royal Guard, Korra.” Korra said nothing, despite (Y/N’s) elbow digging into her side. “Tell me, Bolin, do you have a brother?”

Bolin’s thick eyebrows drew together curiously. “Yes, yeah I do. Mako. He’s probably out back.”

“Could you bring him here, please?” Bolin nodded and darted out of the room.

“What’s your plan?” Korra questioned as soon as he left. “You still have to make sure they’re not going to be insane.”

“I don’t think they will. I got a good feeling from Bolin.”

“Feelings don’t make kings.” (Y/N) tsked, rolling her eyes at Korra.

“Must you always be so negative?”

“I’m not negative, I’m realistic. A trait that you would do well to have.”

A loud clatter out front startled them, and the two girls turned around to see the two boys darting down the street, knocking over whatever was in their path.

(Y/N) and Korra had been friends for so long that it seemed like they shared one mind. Both ran out the door, their polished leather boots stomping against the muddied ground. Unlike the boys, they wove through the crowd of people. If anyone recognized that it was the princess running past them, they gave no indication. Stranger things had happened in their little town.

“I’m going to cut them off!” (Y/N) shouted to Korra. She skidded to a stop. The boys were headed toward an alleyway that (Y/N) knew well. If she let them get to the end, they would disappear into the sewers and she’d lose them forever.

She set her foot into the bricks that protruded from the building and started to climb. She had spent many years scaling the side of the castle when it all felt like too much. Lifting herself onto the roof of the building, she darted across and jumped down into the alley, her skirts billowing up into the air as she landed on her feet.

Bolin let out a surprised shout at (Y/N’s) arrival, just as her ankles were reverberating with the shock of the drop. Past the two boys, Korra stood at the end of the alley, her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of her sword.

“Why did you run?” (Y/N) demanded, chest heaving from exerting herself. Both boys turned to her now, and (Y/N) laid eyes on the taller one, who must be Mako. Where Bolin was more broad, Mako was slender, his features sharper. His eyes locked on (Y/N’s), his brows furrowing in a mixture of anger and confusion, while (Y/N) felt a gasp escape her lips. His eyes were a brilliant shade of gold, a color that was rare for her people.

“Well,” Bolin started, trying to catch his own breath. “When you come in with your captain of the royal guard, it kind of feels like you’re here to arrest us.”

“Why would I arrest you?”

“(Y/N), they’re criminals,” Korra snapped, and (Y/N) felt her face heat up from embarrassment.

“You would be too if you lived in a town like this,” Mako said, his glare fixating on Korra. She unsheathed her sword.

“Wait!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Of course you wouldn’t know. You’re up there in your castle chugging wine and bathing in gold,” Mako snarled.

“Think of the queen bathing often?” Korra pressed, both of her hands on the hilt of her sword now.

(Y/N) let out an exasperated sigh. This was not how today was supposed to go. she clenched her fists at her side. She was used to things going perfectly, things going her way. She should give up on these two.

But Mako’s words were sticking to her uncomfortably, like her dresses did after she applied lotion. Were the people in her town really suffering? Why didn’t she know? Why wasn’t anyone telling her?

“I didn’t come to arrest you,” The last bit of diplomacy had left (Y/N). She did not feel regal. She was tired and impatient. “I came to talk to you.”

“What would you want with us?” Bolin asked, his figure noticeably relaxing.

(Y/N) glanced past them, past Korra and into the street. People’s eyes were glancing inside the alley. There was too much attention here. “It’s...a lot to explain. Come back to the palace with us. I’ll tell you everything there.”

“As your prisoners?” (Y/N) was growing tired of Mako’s attitude.

“As guests! by the lion turtle, you’d think you two would’ve gotten that through your thick heads by now. I don’t want to have you arrested regardless of the crimes you’ve committed.”

“She might not, but I do.”

“Korra!” (Y/N’s) eyes flashed with anger, and her friend deflated, sheathing her sword. (Y/N) inhaled a deep sigh and closed her eyes. “Come back to the palace with me. I’ll explain everything once we’re there.”

Mako and Bolin looked at each other, weighing their options.

“Alright,” Bolin agreed, seeming a lot more excited than his brother. “Alright, we’ll go with you.”

The carriage was far more cramped with the four of them inside. (Y/N) and Korra sat with their shoulders pressed together. Korra held her sword between her knees, her blue eyes flitting between both brothers. While Bolin looked out the window with wonder, Mako sat slumped, his arms crossed and his eyes downcast.

“Are you hungry?” (Y/N) asked no one in particular. “I can have the kitchens make something. What’s your favorite?”

“Do you have rabbit soup?” Bolin asked, but he continued before (Y/N) could answer. “I heard you had a labyrinth in your garden, is that true? Do you have horses? Is the crown you wear really heavy?”

“Yes, yes, yes, and yes, but your neck gets used to it.” She smiled pleasantly. “You should see my father’s crown, though. That thing is a monstrosity.”

Korra tensed at (Y/N’s) side. It was the first time she had mentioned her father to anyone else after his passing. (Y/N) was sure that Korra expected her to fall apart, but she had spent the past two months piecing herself back together.

They walked through the front doors of the palace and a servant immediately took (Y/N’s) cloak and Korra’s jacket. They stared awkwardly at the two boys behind them. (Y/N) dismissed them quickly.

“Would you like to freshen up a bit before we talk?” Bolin opened his mouth to say something, but Mako cut him off.

“we came here to talk.”

(Y/N’s) smile dropped from her face. “Alright then. Follow me.”

She led them to her study, which previously belonged to her father. A giant painting of him, her mother, and a young (Y/N) was hung over the roaring fireplace. (Y/N) leaned against the desk as Korra shut the door behind them, leaning herself against the hardwood to prevent any escape attempts.

“I know it’s not every day the princess drops on you unannounced,” (Y/N) said. Her nerves shaky, she kept moving her fingers. “But after my father’s death, I spent a lot of time researching my family’s lineage.” She pulled the piece of paper from her bag and unfolded it. She double checked to make sure their names were still there, as if they would magically disappear on her. “You both are from a distant royal branch, completely unrelated to my own.”

She handed the piece of paper to them, and both boys pored over the paper with their brows drawn together. Mako looked up at her. “So what does this mean?”

“We’re royalty?” Bolin asked.

“Yes. Next in line to the throne, actually. After myself.”

“Oh god,” Bolin paled. “Did you bring us here to kill us so we wouldn’t challenge your claim to the throne?”

“Does everyone in the kingdom think I’m a monster?” She held up a hand to silence Mako before he could respond. “No, I didn’t bring you here to kill you. I brought you to the palace to...give you both the life that is rightfully yours. Somewhere, many generations ago, your connection to the royal family was severed. I want to restore it.”

“Why would you want that?” Mako asked, and it was the first thing he said that had no trace of anger.

“I want to help,” (Y/N) admitted. “I came to town because I wanted to help you two, and then you mentioned that if we lived there, we would be criminals as well. If my people are suffering, I want to do everything in my power to fix it.”

The brothers still looked wary, so she continued. “You could both stay at the palace, if you wanted. Wherever you worked would be compensated for your absence. You can live here and you’ll be treated well. I’ll let you have most anything you want, within reason.” She stared at them both hopefully. “Of course, if you don’t want that, I understand. A carriage will bring you back to town.”

She locked eyes with Korra. If this went poorly, it could be the downfall of the kingdom. but (Y/N) needed to risk it.

“Alright,” Mako said. He seemed to be the one that made the decisions. “We’ll stay, for now.”

(Y/N) grinned, feeling absolutely elated. All that was left to do now was prove that they were worthy of the throne.

She left Mako and Bolin to their own devices at first. She instructed Korra and any other servants to report back with how they were doing. So far, there was no suspicious activity, much to Korra’s disappointment.

“I’m just itching for a reason to kick that Mako in the teeth,” Korra told (Y/N) as they walked to her next meeting. (Y/N) couldn’t hold back her laugh. “Seriously! he needs a huge attitude adjustment.”

“I’m sure they had it rough, Korra, we need to be patient with them.”

“I don’t know why you’re fighting for them so much. They’re criminals, they said it themselves.”

“Maybe they had to be.” Korra rolled her eyes.

“You’ve got your head in the clouds.”

At the end of the hall, (Y/N) noticed Mako walking toward them. His dirty clothing had been exchanged for a nice red tunic and dark fitted pants. The servants had scrubbed his face clean and combed back his hair, but (Y/N) had heard that Mako ruffled it as soon as they were done styling it.

“Good morning, Mako,” (Y/N) called out to him. He paused, his expression still serious as he nodded at them. “Would you like to join Korra and I for this meeting?”

“You can’t be serious,” Korra hissed, but (Y/N) paid her no mind.

“We’re discussing funding today. I’d love to hear your input about where it should go.” She looked at him expectantly, willing him to say yes. She stared directly into his amber eyes. (Y/N) found that people had a hard time saying no to her if she looked at them directly.

“Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat. “Alright.”

They entered the meeting room together, (Y/N) taking her place at the elaborate chair at the head of the table. Korra stood at her side, arms behind her back. Mako looked at the seats, anxiously trying to figure out where to go. The men at the table stared at him warily, frowns on their faces.

“Sit here,” (Y/N) offered, gesturing to the seat to her left. Tenzin, her treasurer, cleared his throat.

“Your majesty, forgive me for interrupting, but that is Lord Tahno’s seat.”

(Y/N) smiled and nodded. “Seeing how lord Tahno is late, I would like Mako to take his seat.” Korra tried to stifle her laughter, but failed miserably. She might not like Mako, but she loathed Tahno. (Y/N) guessed that Korra was eager to see the expression on his face when he finally walked in. (Y/N) was eager to see it as well. She and Korra would have a hearty laugh about it later.

“Now,” (Y/N) continued. “I’m sure you’re all wondering about our guest. Mako is one of my representatives from town, so I invited him here today to discuss how the budget should be allocated to the people.”

“Your highness,” said Tarrlok, another one of (Y/N’s) advisors. “I can assure you that the people are doing well. Just the other day, I was walking through the town. Children were laughing and playing, it was wonderful.”

“Just because children are being children doesn’t mean they aren’t suffering,” (Y/N) said. She tried hard not to lose her temper with these people. They were used to certain lives, certain expectations. She didn’t need them to understand, she just needed them to follow her orders. “Take half of the money from my coronation and put it toward the people.”

Mako raised an eyebrow at her, while the rest of her advisors began talking amongst themselves. “With all due respect, your majesty,” said Raiko. “Your coronation is of the utmost importance.”

“How much money should it really require?” (Y/N) questioned. “All you have to do is say a few words and put a crown on my head.”

The door opened then, revealing Tahno and the smug expression on his face. it immediately fell as soon as he saw that his seat was occupied. He recovered as soon as he saw (Y/N). “Your highness,” he drawled, approaching her chair. “My apologies for being late. There was a young injured fox on my way to the castle. I had to stop to assist it.”

“Liar,” Korra coughed into her palm, pounding against her chest. “Woo, sorry. allergies, y’know?” Even Mako broke a smile.

“Sit, Tahno.” Frowning, he sat a few chairs down from the princess, glaring at Mako. (Y/N) was grateful to have Tahno so far away. As soon as she had her first meeting, he had claimed the spot right beside her, trying his best to flirt. (Y/N) was in the middle of the appropriate marrying ages and Tahno made it very clear that he had plans to have her hand.

“Mako,” (Y/N) said, turning to him. “Is there anywhere in town you could think of that needs funding immediately?”

“Where do I start?” Mako joked, before he remembered exactly where he was. “Uh, the orphanage, your highness. Or the schools. Or maybe putting the money into the roads or some bath houses?”

(Y/N) nodded as he listed off each of his ideas. She then turned to her advisors. “Did you get all of that?”

They all scrambled to write down what the young commoner had been saying. “Let’s put the majority of the funding into the orphanages and the schools. We’ll start there, then work our way to everything else.”

“I don’t see why we should be helping the peasants if they’re no longer providing anything for the castle.” Tahno leaned back into his seat.

“It’s winter,” Korra deadpanned.

“Regardless if they contribute anything to the castle or not, taking care of them is still our responsibility,” (Y/N) told him.

“I’m just saying—“

“Keep thinking like that and you’ll have a revolt on your hands,” Mako interrupted Tahno. “The people know how you all live here. They don’t expect their own fancy castles, but they notice when they’re starving and you’re all throwing feasts.”

“Tell me,” Tahno said, narrowing his eyes. “What’s your title? Why are you here?”

“All things you’d know if you arrived to the meeting on time,” (Y/N) snapped. “The orphanages and the schools,” (Y/N) repeated to Tenzin. He nodded at her orders. “I think that’s enough for today. You may all leave.” She didn’t like this, didn’t like the arguments and how people tried to challenge her. She might see their point of view if she was some sort of tyrant that needed to be held back. But all she wanted to do was help people, and sometimes she felt like the best thing she could do for the kingdom was to not be queen.

As everyone else filtered out of the room, (Y/N)) stood and went to the window. In the cloudy horizon sat their little town, the one that her family had been entrusted to care for.

“Your majesty, may I have a word with you?” (Y/N) sighed and turned around. Tahno stood just a few feet away from her, blocked by Korra. Mako had remained in his seat. “In private?”

“I’m actually feeling unwell today,” (Y/N) said softly. “You can request an audience another time. Korra, please escort Lord Tahno out.”

“Gladly,” Korra said with a smile. Tahno stared at the princess for a few more moments before turning around, Korra following him.

(Y/N) collapsed back in her seat, slumping down. She glanced over at Mako. “Thank you for coming today. And what you said. Sometimes it feels like they don’t believe anything I say unless it’s coming from a man’s mouth.”

“It seemed to me like they didn’t want to believe anything I said unless it was coming from a lord’s.” (Y/N) smiled.

“They’re not so bad. Just a little...traditional.”

“And you aren’t?” (Y/N) shook her head.

“There's so much I would change about everything.”

“Like what?” (Y/N) was surprised at Mako’s sudden interest. His hands were slotted together and folded against his stomach as he leaned back.

“Well, I don't think the coronation should be that big of a deal. It seems like a party for the rich people, and they have parties all the time. So I'd make it something smaller. Private, maybe. And I’d invite the whole town into the palace for feasts on holidays, so that everyone could get a hot meal. Maybe if people wanted, they could come to the castle if they ever needed a meal. Tahno would say that they’d eat me out of house and home, but I don’t think I’d mind, as long as people were happy.”

“Tahno seems like a jerk.”

“He is, but I can't say that or else his family would wage war on mine.” (Y/N) blew hair out of her face. “Everyone expects me to marry him.”

“Well i don’t see why you wouldn’t want to,” Mako said sarcastically. (Y/N) grinned.

“I’d also put an end to this horrid war.”

“You want to end the war?” Mako raised an eyebrow. It stung a little bit, thinking that he would be surprised at her statement.

“It’s not my war anymore,” She said quietly, glancing at the portrait of her father that said over the fireplace. He looked grand, a ring of shining light painted around his head. “It wasn’t even his. It was started a long time ago by men whose problems are nowhere near mine.” She turned to Mako, the corner of her mouth twitching up sadly. “At this point, I don’t think anyone knows what they’re fighting for anymore. All it does is hurt people.”

They both knew what she was referring to. Just a few months ago, her father had been wounded on the battlefield for that very war. His death had been slow and painful, and as his only child, (Y/N) had to sit and watch.

“I think those are great ideas, by the way.” Mako’s voice broke the silence and the sadness that had started to overcome (Y/N).

“Thank you. If only I had the time to implement them.”

“Don’t you have a whole lifetime as queen?”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to speak, but clasped it tightly shut. She couldn’t tell him about her plan. Not yet.

“There’s just a lot of hoops to jump through.” She stood and glanced at the door. “Walk with me to lunch?”

It wasn’t often that (Y/N) was summoned places. As princess, she did the majority of the summoning. But Tenzin had called her to the great hall for some undisclosed reason and (Y/N) was horribly curious, so she humored him.

He bowed as she entered the room. “Your majesty. Thank you for making yourself available on such short notice.”

The door opened behind her once more, revealing a very confused looking Mako and Bolin. Tenzin cleared his throat. “Considering that her royal highness brought you both here, I have taken it upon myself to properly train you as members of the royal court.”

(Y/N) gasped excitedly, whirling around on the two boys, the large skirt of her dress flowing behind her. Bolin looked at her. “What does that mean?”

“it means,” (Y/N) said, clasping her hands together. “That you’re getting royalty lessons.”

“I'm good,” Mako said, moving to walk back out of the room. Tenzin raised his eyebrows at (Y/N), who gave him a confused look in return before she realized what he was trying to convey.

“Oh! Right. I’m in charge here. Mako, you cannot leave. If you two are to remain in the palace, you have to have some sort of formal training. There are certain expectations that other members of the Court will have. People have started wars over minor offenses. It’s all stupid, but necessary.” Tenzin gasped.

“The customs of our people are far from stupid!”

Mako looked horribly displeased, but the glimmer in Bolin’s eyes told her that at least he was excited. (Y/N) turned to Tenzin, a grin on her face. “Of course. Take good care of them, Tenzin.”

“Actually, your majesty, I was thinking that you could also partake in these lessons. A little refresher is never a bad thing. I’ve noticed your elbows have begun making their way onto the table.”

(Y/N) frowned deeply as bolin and mako snickered behind her. “I think my elbows should do whatever they damn well please.”

Tenzin sputtered. “Language, your majesty!” And while she was the princess and could certainly refuse, the hopeful and pleading look on Tenzin’s face made her concede. He had been her father’s best friend. With a sigh, she nodded.

That was how the three of them had ended up with stacks of books on their heads. It had taken (Y/N) a few tries to get the hang of it once more and just as she was feeling confident, Tenzin would add another book. Mako and Bolin, however, were struggling greatly.

“I think my hair is making the book fall,” Bolin told Tenzin, who rolled his eyes.

“The purpose is to glide, not walk, across the floor.”

“What the hell is gliding?” Mako questioned.

“And watch your tongue!” tenzin insisted. Mako huffed, and (Y/N) giggled as she glided over to him.

“Just humor him,” she whispered as she walked around Mako. She pulled his shoulders back to straighten them, and with a single finger lifted his chin so that he had to peer down his nose at her. “Try it now.”

Mako took a few wary steps forward, but the book didn’t fall, not until he turned back around to smile at (Y/N). It slid off his head, knocking into hers before tumbling to the floor.

“Ow,” (Y/N) grumbled, rubbing her hand against her forehead. Mako stared at her with wide eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized, but his shocked expression soon faded as he saw the smile playing at her lips. He had to admit, it was rather funny.

“Uh, (Y/N)?” bolin asked, and then received a swat on the head from Tenzin.

“You will refer to her as your majesty, your grace, or your highness!”

“Your grace (Y/N)?” bolin tried to correct, avoiding another swipe from Tenzin. “How’d you get Mako to do that book thing?”

“Oh! It’s easy, let me help,” and she walked over to Bolin, moving him the same way she had moved Mako just moments before. Bolin took his own steps forward, looking similarly to a baby lamb walking on its legs for the first time.

“I’m doing it!” He cheered as he walked around the room. “I'm royalty!”

After their walking lessons was a pretend lunch in which they learned what utensils to use when. (Y/N) was rather disappointed at the lack of food before them. She found herself growing hungry.

“Now, say you had a soup dish before you. What utensil would you use, your highness?”

(Y/N) looked down at the array of forks, spoons, and knives, all in a range of different sizes. She pursed her lips as she thought. “Do I go from the outside in?” She wondered aloud, searching Mako and Bolin’s faces for answers. They both gave her a shrug: they were just as lost. “Or do i go from the inside out? You know, tenzin, I’m curious why it matters at all what utensil we use when. As long as the food gets in our mouths, I don’t see an issue.”

Tenzin sniffed. “I see you’ve been spending time with Korra.”

“Really, I think different types of utensils should be banned. All we need are forks, knives, and spoons. Perhaps I'll propose it at our next meeting.”

“I second that,” Mako said as he stared at a big fork and a small fork.

“Can i vote, too?” Bolin questioned. “Because while I think it’s a great idea, (Y/N) your highness, I think we should keep this little baby fork. It’s quite adorable.”

(Y/N) hummed, banging the handle of her knife on the table as if it were a gavel. “It’s settled. No different types of utensils, unless it’s a baby fork.”

Bolin cheered as Tenzin groaned.

“For your last lesson,” Tenzin began as they left the dining room. “We shall work on dancing.”

“That’s my cue to leave,” (Y/N) said quickly, gathering the skirts of her dress and darting away. Mako and Bolin exchanged a quick look before darting after her, leaving Tenzin all by himself.

“I expect to see you all at the same time tomorrow!”

(Y/N) was surprised as she was walking the grounds to find Bolin wrestling with members of the knighthood. She left her handmaidens and ran over to them immediately, thinking the worst. Maybe one of them had made a comment about Bolin’s upbringing. Maybe Bolin had offended the knight in some way.

“What is the meaning of this?” (Y/N) demanded, her voice projecting over the cheers of the knights. they died out, falling to one knee and bowing their heads. The two remained wriggling on the ground. “Bolin!” (Y/N) shouted to gain his attention.

The fighting halted, and her knight, Sir Tonraq, looked up at her and smiled. He was Korra's father and one of their kingdom’s greatest generals. He rose slowly to his feet and bowed at the waist. “Your majesty,” he said calmly. “Bolin asked that I show him a few moves. It was all in good fun, I can assure you.”

(Y/N) glanced down at Bolin, who was panting but otherwise looked unharmed. He remained on the ground, his face upside down as he grinned up at (Y/N). “Afternoon, princess! lovely day, isn’t it?”

“You asked Sir Tonraq to wrestle you?”

“Well uh,” Bolin rose to his feet. “Not in so many words, but I guess. He and the others were training and it looked really cool! Do you think I could get a sword?” He looked between (Y/N) and Tonraq.

“Why don’t you walk with me for a bit, Bolin?” He nodded and joined her, leaving Tonraq and the rest to return to their training. “I'll be frank: is being a knight something that interests you?”

Bolin nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah, it always has! Ever since I was little, I wanted to be a knight. pops used to tell us his grandfather was a knight and I thought it was the coolest thing ever, but then Mako said that it was all just a story pops made up to get us to go to sleep. But hey, now I’m starting to think Mako was wrong!” He flashed another smile at (Y/N).

“If you’re a knight, you can’t be a king,” (Y/N) said, her voice very solemn. Bolin raised an eyebrow.

“Well you’re queen, so—“

“I'm not the queen,” (Y/N) interrupted. “Not until my coronation.”

“Either way, it’s still you and mako before I can even think about becoming a king. I think I'd make a great knight, though! saving damsels, slaying dragons.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Dragons have been extinct for years.”

“Someone never heard the fairytale of the dragon prince!”

“You'll have to tell me sometime.” They walked past the lakes, where turtle ducks swam and splashed in the water. “If you really want to be a knight, Bolin, we can arrange it. It’s a lot of intense training, but if you think you’re ready—“

“I know i’m ready!”

“Alright,” (Y/N) laughed. “I’ll call for the town blacksmith and you guys can meet and discuss what you want your sword to look like.”

“Doesn’t the castle have a blacksmith?”

(Y/N) smirked. “We do, but I've got a plan, dear Bolin.”

Korra was going to kill her.

The clanging of metal on metal alerted the two of them to some other sort of commotion. (Y/N) and Bolin walked to the source of the noise, located at the armory. At first, (Y/N) could not discern who was inside, but she soon heard Korra’s familiar grunts and shouts.

They walked through the armory, passing different swords, daggers, shields, and pieces of armor as they made their way back to the practice area. There, on the sandy ground, stood Korra and Mako.

(Y/N) hadn’t expected Mako to be a very good swordsman. He had grown up as an orphan, after all, so she looked up at Bolin with one eyebrow raised. The brother smiled brightly as he watched the two fight. “Mako once stole a sword from some rich kid in town. He got pretty good at fighting until the sword got stolen from him.”

“Hopefully he doesn’t best my Captain of the Royal Guard,” (Y/N) said in a loud voice as she walked over to the railing. “Or else I might need to start holding interviews!”

“Shut up!” Korra shouted back at her. The distraction gave Mako just enough time to swipe Korra’s feet out from beneath her. Korra was quick, however, and rolled out of the way before he could hold the point of his sword to her chest. She jumped back up to her feet and attacked with such ferocity that it intimidated even (Y/N).

Korra, like (Y/N), had spent much of her life being underestimated by the men of their kingdom. Where (Y/N) would rather use that to her advantage, it bothered Korra to no end. She spent years training harder than any other knight in their Royal Guard, any other knight in their entire army, until she could best them all. If (Y/N) was Mako, she would be terrified.

Their swords collided in air, and Korra circled her weapon, wrenching Mako’s from his hand. She caught it by the blade in her other hand, an exhausted smile coming to her face before she thrust the handle of her sword at him. “You’re not horrible.”

“You’re amazing!” Bolin exclaimed, eyes wide as he stared at Korra. “You were good too, Mako, just not as good as her.” “Gee, thanks, Bo,” Mako said as he wiped sweat from his brow.

Korra narrowed her eyes at (Y/N). “You were trying to distract me for him.”

“You’re so dramatic,” (Y/N) said as she rolled her eyes. Korra smiled, her eyes moving between Mako to (Y/N).

“Bet he couldn’t take you,” Korra said. She always liked to initiate challenges.

Mako raised an eyebrow at the princess. “You can swordfight?”

(Y/N) scoffed. “Who do you think was Korra’s practice dummy?”

“I thought princesses weren’t supposed to learn how to fight,” Bolin wondered aloud. “Wouldn’t Tenzin say it’s unbecoming?”

(Y/N) nodded. “He certainly would, and he did. Many times.”

Korra waved a hand. “That old coot wouldn’t know what fun was if it smacked him in the ass.” She offered her sword to (Y/N). “Go on. Fight him.”

A grin settled on (Y/N’s) lips, her expectant eyes landing as Mako. She hopped over the railing. The skirt of her dress was large, making it a bit difficult, but she had been doing it for years. “What do you say?”

Mako furrowed his brows. “I don’t want to fight you.”

“Come on, Mako, I’m in a dress. It should be easy for you to beat me.” (Y/N) tossed the blade between both hands. Mako looked from the princess to Korra and Bolin. Bolin seemed nervous, but Korra leaned against the wooden post of the building with a smile.

“We shouldn’t,” Mako said, shaking his head.

(Y/N) lifted her chin and smirked, pointing her blade at Mako. “I order you to.”

His eyebrow quirked up as his face flushed, the corner of his mouth tilting up just slightly. “As you wish, your majesty,” And (Y/N) felt a shudder travel down her back.

(Y/N) swung first, knowing that Mako would be too scared to initiate the first move. He blocked, spinning around in an attempt to disarm her. (Y/N) noticed that all of the movements he was making were attempts to knock the sword from her friends, but she held onto it. Her dress made moving quickly difficult, but she could tell that he was restraining himself.

“If you keep holding back,” (Y/N) said as their swords collided. “I’ll make you spend a night in the cellars.”

Mako let out a laugh, but his fighting style started to completely change. He was quick and pressing, trying his best to push her into a corner. Their swords hit midair once more and Mako shoved forward.

(Y/N) lost her balance and fell, landing on her side as she cried out. Mako dropped his sword and ran to her side, kneeling down to his knees as his brows knit together in worry. “Are you alright?” He questioned, searching to see what was hurting her.

In an instant, (Y/N) lunged and tackled Mako onto his back. She hovered over to him for a split second, their faces only inches away as she smiled down at him. She scrambled back up to her feet, setting one foot on his chest as the tip of her sword pointed at his neck.

“That’s my girl!” Korra cheered from the sidelines.

Mako stared up at her, eyes still wide with surprise. Her hair had fallen from its bun, wisps of sweaty locks sticking to her temples and neck. Her chest heaved as they caught her breath, and her eyes sparkled with a wild twinkle that Mako hadn’t seen before.

“You fight dirty,” Mako said.

(Y/N) shrugged. “Have to do what you must to win.” She stepped off of his chest and let her sword trail down his stomach before tossing it to the ground. She linked arms with Korra and walked out of the armory, muttering something about desperately needing a bath.

Mako remained on the ground as he caught his breath. Bolin hopped over to the railing and joined his brother, his eyes widening as he noticed the state he was in. Bolin directed his green eyes elsewhere. “Um, Mako? Do you have a--”

“Shut up, Bolin.”

“You—!” Korra said as she burst into the dining room. (Y/N) had a mouthful of bread stuffed in her cheeks. “You wicked woman!”

Mako and Bolin glanced from Korra to (Y/N). They weren’t sure if Korra’s anger was genuine. On a normal day, if anyone spoke to (Y/N) that way, Korra would have them thrown out. Was there anyone that could throw Korra out?

(Y/N) swallowed and smiled, buttering another piece of bread. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Korra crossed her arms and poured her lips, tapping her foot against the marble floor. “You invited the blacksmith here on purpose!”

“Yes, that purpose was so that she could make Bolin a sword.”

“And that has nothing to do with how I made a fool of myself the last time we saw her?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Then you should be thrilled that I invited her so you could make a good second impression.”

“Am I missing something here?” Bolin asked.

“No!” Korra snapped, just as (Y/N) whirled on him with a devious grin.

“Korra’s got a crush on the town blacksmith.”

“I hate you,” Korra seethed. (Y/N) paid her no mind. If she had a gold piece for every time Korra told her that, she’d be the richest person in the entire world.

“She’s supposed to be arriving soon. Should we call her into the dining room?”

“No!” Korra and Mako spoke at the same time. (Y/N) had been expecting that reaction from Korra, but from Mako?

her playful demeanor dissipated as she saw the troubled expression on mako’s face. “Very well,” she said quietly. “When she arrives, you’ll meet her in the smithy.” Bolin nodded.

Korra had left to take out her anger on some unsuspecting recruit. The rest of the meal was consumed in silence.

An uncomfortable feeling settled in (Y/N’s) stomach, like she had done something wrong. She had expected korra to react that way. When it came to her, Korra was all bark and no bite. She would get over it in a few hours, and would undoubtedly be excited at seeing Asami. But the look that had appeared on Mako’s face had startled her. It was like she had hurt him in a way, and she didn’t know how.

(Y/N) retired to her bedroom, dismissing her handmaidens. She wanted to be completely alone.

Her room was large, but it was not the biggest bedroom in the castle. That was her father’s, which had remained untouched since he passed away. After her coronation, (Y/N) would be expected to move into it. And she wasn’t sure that she could handle being in a room that reminded her of her father so fully.

But (Y/N) liked her room. It had grand windows, with a stained glass one at the very center, depicting a colorful image of the two founders of her family line. As the sun shined through, it cast colors all throughout the room. Her bed was large and soft, with four posts and a lovely canopy surrounding it. Books were now scattered across the floor from her research and she had many wardrobes all along the wall, filled to the brim with dresses and gowns. They ranged from poofy and elegant to plain and simple.

She flopped onto her bed, staring up at the high ceilings. What would happen to her once she was no longer royalty? Perhaps she would take her savings and buy a cottage on the side of a hill. She knew very little about fending for herself, but she would learn. She could buy animals. Or maybe she would settle in a cottage by the sea and fish for herself. She had read a book once that detailed how to make sea salt from the ocean.

(Y/N) closed her eyes, envisioning the peace that would overcome her once the crown was off of her head.

She wasn’t sure how long she had slept, but when she awoke her stomach was growling, indicating that she had missed dinner. She sat up, her body feeling stiff from sleeping in her corset. She moved her arms around her back, her fingers trying to pull at the ties that bound her. It was no use without a handmaiden.

A knock sounded at her door and (Y/N) jumped up, feeling a little dizzy from having just awoken. She went to the door and pulled it open, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Where she had expected to see a handmaiden, She was surprised to see Mako standing in front of her. “Oh,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Do you need something?”

“You weren’t at dinner,” he explained. “Did I upset you?” (Y/N) liked how straightforward Mako was. He saw things simply.

“Not at all! I just fell asleep.” She craned her neck to the side to stretch it.

“Oh. Well, alright.” He seemed to be deciding whether he should leave or say something more.

“I'm sorry for inviting the blacksmith girl unannounced. If I had realized you had a past with her—“

“Who said I had a past with her?”

(Y/N) snorted. “Well, it was pretty obvious, considering you almost pissed your pants at the idea of seeing her.”

Mako rolled his eyes. “You can invite whoever you want to invite, you’re the queen.”

“I’m not,” (Y/N) insisted. “Not until my coronation.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you keep putting that off? You’d think that anyone would jump at the opportunity to rule a kingdom.”

(Y/N) pressed her lips into a line. “I like to take my time.”

“Seems to me that you enjoy rash decisions.”

“And you know me so well?”

Mako shrugged. “I’ve been here almost a month. I like to think that I know a little about you. Jury's still out on the golden baths, though.”

(Y/N) scrunched her nose. “I don’t care for chugging wine, either.”

Mako laughed, and (Y/N) realized it was the first time she had actually heard the sound. It was pleasant. Warm.

“I was with the blacksmith, for a period of time. It didn’t end very well.”

“for you or for her?”

“for either of us.” (y/n) nodded, leaning against the door frame.

“Korra’s smitten with her.”

“Who wouldn’t be? She’s beautiful.” His eyes glistened with a flash of realization that she couldn’t understand, and then he shut his mouth.

“If Asami wasn’t good for Korra, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

mako nodded, his face very serious. “Of course.”

“She’s my best friend,” (Y/N) said quietly, studying mako’s face. “She’s all I have.”

“That can’t be true.”

“It is.” (Y/N) gritted her teeth. The thought of someone hurting Korra made a rage bubble in her belly. “I’ve lost both of my parents. Korra is the only thing keeping me here.”

“The only thing?”

(Y/N) felt her face grow hot. she looked down at her feet. “I’m tired of standing. Do you want to come inside?”

“Inside...your room?”

“Yes, my room.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and stepped aside so Mako could enter. He looked around at her space as she moved to her wardrobe and pulled out a comfier dress.

“This entire room is bigger than the house I grew up in.”

“I’m sorry for that.” (Y/N) moved behind her screen, trying to tug once more at her ties now that she was more awake.

“It’s not your fault. It was still a nice home.” (Y/N) let out an exasperated sigh. Her arms couldn’t contort in the way she needed them to. “Everything alright back there?”

(Y/N) poked her head from behind the screen. Mako sat at the edge of her bed. “I need a small favor.”

“I suppose I can’t refuse the princess.”

(Y/N) walked over to him and turned around, pulling her hair to the front. “Could you untie these for me? I'd do it by myself, but I can't reach.”

“Where are your handmaidens?”

“Obviously not present at the moment so please, mako, if you don’t mind.”

He stood, and with nimble fingers he untied the silk ribbon of her corset. (Y/N) breathed in deeply and exhaled. she could finally breathe properly. She held the corset to her chest with her arms and turned around. “Thank you,” she told him, before she moved back behind her screen to get changed. “One more thing I'd do as queen is banish uncomfortable dresses.”

Mako chuckled. “The people would throw a festival in your honor.”

She moved out from the screen once more, this time wearing only her nightgown and a silk robe to cover it. She had pulled the pins from her hair, allowing it to move freely. “Tell me about your parents,” She said. It was rare she got a moment alone with Mako. She wanted to learn as much about him as she could.

“There’s not much to tell. They were killed by a mugger when we were out walking one night.”

“‘We?’” (Y/N) repeated. “You were with them?” Mako nodded. “Oh, Mako, i’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” Mako said as he swallowed. “But it’s why Bolin and I had to learn to steal. it was the only way we could survive.”

“The orphanage—“

“We went, for a while. A couple wanted to adopt Bolin. I couldn’t let them separate us, so we ran.” Mako shook his head. “You probably think me selfish, for keeping my brother from a chance at a better life.”

(Y/N) sat beside him on her bed. “When Korra was eighteen, she became a knight. I was happy when she did, it was all that she wanted her entire life. But then I thought about how knights go to war and sometimes they don’t return. So I asked my father to do something to keep Korra here. He assigned her to the royal guard. I know it’s not her dream, but it’s all I could do to keep her safe.” she looked at mako. “What I’m trying to say is, no, I don’t think you’re selfish. I would’ve done the same thing.”

“If korra’s the only thing keeping you here, why do you want to leave so badly?”

(Y/N) stiffened, furrowing her brows. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s plain to see. Refusing your coronation, not even batting an eye at marriage proposals. bringing bolin and I here. I knew you wanted to leave as soon as you brought us here, but I couldn't figure out why.”

(Y/N) swallowed. “I’m not fit to rule a kingdom.”

Mako scoffed. “I’d beg to differ. you boss everyone around better than anyone i’ve ever met.” He was trying to joke, but (Y/N) was not in the mood.

“I don't like meetings or the people I have to spend my time around. You saw it for yourself, some of them are insufferable. I can’t lead an army into battle, but I can’t sit back and watch innocent people die for my sake. I just...my parents were such good people. My mother knew how to ease everyone’s worries. My father knew when to be strong for others. I don't have either of those qualities. I've had Korra to protect me my whole life. The kingdom would be better off if someone else ruled it.”

She turned to mako. “Which is why I found you and Bolin and brought you back to the palace. I had to make sure you both would be good kings, and you are. I can’t think of anyone more reasonable, or kind and just, or strong as the two of you. I want you to take my throne, Mako. You would be such a great king. You’re in touch with the people.”

She swallowed, nervous from his silence. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But I truly do believe you’d be wonderful.”

“And if I say no?”

(Y/N) furrowed her brows, shocked. “I'll ask bolin.”

“And if he says no? Will you stay?” (Y/N) was at a loss for words. “Because I know that if I say yes, you will leave. So why would I when it’s the only way you’ll stay?”

She stared at mako. His golden eyes bore down into hers. She tried to read his expression, but there were too many thoughts bouncing around in her head. “I can't, Mako. Losing both of my parents nearly destroyed me. If something else happened…” She closed her eyes tight. “I know I wouldn’t be a good ruler.”

“You do not know yourself.” Mako squeezed her hand.

(Y/N) sniffled. “We could talk circles around each other all night. We won’t change the other’s mind.”

“I—“ Mako huffed, closing his eyes. “I want to be selfish with you, (Y/N).” He released her hand and stood, walking out of her room without looking back.

(Y/N) crawled beneath her covers. her stomach rumbled in protest, but she felt too sick to even think about eating. She closed her eyes and fought for sleep.

When (Y/N) opened her eyes, she was only a little alarmed to see someone sleeping beside her. As her mind came back to life, she recalled Korra coming to check on her. She must have seen the worry etched onto (Y/N’s) face because she had taken off her boots and crawled into (Y/N’s) bed like they used to when they were little.

(Y/N) turned over and stared at Korra, silently willing her to wake up. Her stomach rose and fell as she breathed easily, but (Y/N) caught the quick upturn of her lips. She moved closer to her friend.

“You’re so weird for staring at people when they sleep,” Korra said quietly, her voice gravelly from sleep.

“You’re grumpy in the morning,” (Y/N) replied back. She laid down on her pillow. “Mako visited me last night.”

“I know. I saw him leaving your room. Part of me thought that maybe you guys had—“

“We didn’t, but if you’d like the conversation to go in that direction I’d love to hear how you spent your time with Asami.”

“I didn’t spend any time with her.” (Y/N) groaned.

“So now I have to invite her back to the palace just so you can make a move. You’re despicable. Next time I need to be there to make sure you actually do something.”

Korra chuckled, then opened her eyes and turned over to face (y/n). Her expression was softer. “What happened with Mako?”

“I told him that I wanted him to be king. and he said no, because it would mean that I left.”

“Swoon,” Korra sighed.

“Not swoon. What am I supposed to do now?”

“You could stay.” Korra's blue eyes locked on hers. “I don’t understand why you’re so eager to leave. You have a good life here, (Y/N).”

“I know that, but it doesn’t feel like my life. I feel like an imposter whenever I do anything even remotely royal. I was never supposed to be—“

“Enough about you not meant to be the heir. Yes, your mother was pregnant when she passed away, but that doesn’t mean she would have had a boy.”

“The doctors said—“

“The doctors are wrong about things all the time. They said you’d be taller than me, and look where we are now.” (Y/N’s) face formed a pout. “You are meant to be the heir, because you’re here.”

(Y/N) shoved her face into her pillow and screamed. Korra patted her on the back. “Look. If what you really want is to run away and never be heard from again, then I’ll support you. I don’t like it, but I’ll support you.”

(Y/N) felt a stinging pain in her chest. Korra was a much better person than she was. Braver, stronger, selfless. (Y/N) turned her head to look at her once more.

“I asked my father to keep you here,” (Y/N) said. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you going out into battle. A monarch shouldn’t behave so selfishly.”

“(Y/N),” Korra sighed, wrapping her arms around her friend and pulling her into her chest. “I asked your father to keep me here, with you. You’d end up falling down the stairs if it weren’t for me.”

(Y/N) gave Korra a light punch in the stomach, but smiled and hugged her friend back. “I don’t want to do royal things today.”

“You don’t have to. Tis the blessing of being the one in charge, hm?”

“But I have meetings.”

“Hm, yes.”

“And Tenzin wanted to talk about my birthday celebration.”

“Oof, that’ll be a fun conversation.”

“But maybe if I had a really fantastic friend who knew me very well and would be able to make decisions based on what I would want, then I’d be able to stay in my room all day…”

“It’s a shame you don’t have one of those.” Korra laughed. “Alright, I’ll be queen for a day. But first I need to make sure you eat. Your stomach was so loud last night, I wanted to kick you.”

So the princess sat in her bed, munching on fruit. She wasn’t sure what she would do on her day off, so she sat in contemplative thought. She could read, but she always read. Would Korra be upset with her for going outside? She wondered what excuse Korra might have made on her behalf.

(Y/N) stood and decided to at least get dressed for the day. She chose a simple white tunic and trousers, securing the middle of her shirt with a belt. She slipped on her boots and took a look at herself in the mirror. Sometimes it was nice to not look like a princess.

A knock at her door made her jump. She opened it, surprised to find bolin standing before her. “Korra said you weren’t feeling well,” Bolin said. his face glistened with sweat. “So I asked Tonraq if I could check on you for a few minutes.”

(Y/N) smiled. “That’s very kind of you, Bolin, but I’m quite alright. I just needed a day off. Being a princess isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”

“What’re you gonna do?” (Y/N) shrugged.

“I haven’t figured it out yet. What has everyone else been up to?”

“Well, Korra and Mako have been going to all of your meetings.”

“Mako? Why would he—?”

“He didn’t tell you? Mako decided that he’ll take your throne if you plan on giving it up. Huge weight off my shoulders, honestly. I don't think I'd be a very good king.”

(Y/N) felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. What had changed his mind?

She and Bolin parted ways and (Y/N) sneaked through the castle, hoping to not be seen by any of her advisors or servants. Mako’s advisors and servants. Her brain was muddled. Bolin's news came as a shock to her, considering how Mako had behaved the night before. She tried to press it to the back of her mind.

Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She ran into the nearest room, a storage room with dusty boxes, but with a window big enough for her to fit through. She threw it open, inhaling the cool afternoon air. She lifted herself over the ledge and secured her foot to a protruding brick. Slowly, she shimmied down the side of the castle.

“What are you doing!” a voice shouted, startling (Y/N) so much that she nearly lost her hold on the side of the building. She looked down, glaring at the perpetrator. Mako. He stared up at her, his face etched in worry and concern.

“Are you trying to make me fall?” She called down to him, taking another step.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“Just shut up, will you? You’re gonna draw attention to me!”

“As if scaling down the side of the castle isn’t doing that already.”

(Y/N) continued climbing down until she was just a few feet off the ground. She landed on her feet, perfectly unharmed. “See?” She gestured to Mako, spreading her arms wide and rotating. “I’m fine.”

Mako crossed his arms. “Korra said you weren’t feeling well. Something about you throwing up everywhere.”

(Y/N) should have known better than to trust Korra with creating an excuse. She crossed her own arms. “I needed a day off. Shouldn’t you be in a meeting or something? Bolin said you’d been going to them all morning.”

“You spoke with bolin?”

“Why did you change your mind?” she questioned, her eyes narrowing. “You seemed very adamant about not taking the position last night.”

Mako pressed his lips into a thin line. “I guess you could say I had a change of heart.”

“Well.” (Y/N) swallowed, casting her eyes to the ground. “Thank you, really. The kingdom will be better off.”

Mako said nothing for a moment before changing the subject. “Tenzin wanted us to tell you that your birthday celebration will be at the end of the week.” (Y/N) groaned. “What, you hate your birthday now too?”

“I don’t hate my birthday. They just make a whole ordeal of it. Fancy dresses and customary dances and absolute asses begging for my hand in marriage while also insulting me. It’s a mess.”

“Sounds like a fun time to me,” Mako said with a smile. (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“It’ll be easy for you. You’ll have women falling in front of your feet to get a chance with you.”

Mako raised an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

(Y/N’s) face flushed hot. “It’s the title,” she said quickly. “The title is what they’re all after, normally.” She looked up at the cloudy sky. “Well, I must be off to do my day off things.”

“Care for some company?”

“But your meetings?” Mako shrugged.

“Korra can handle it.” (Y/N) broke out into a grin.

“She’s going to hate us.”

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what she wanted to do, so she had to think on her feet. She’d like to go into town, but was far too tired for the social energy that required. So, she decided to take Mako to the ruins.

The ruins were a forgotten part of their kingdom, ignored by all except (Y/N). She had discovered them once on one of her long walks along the castle grounds. They were the remnants of a great castle, probably even greater than the one she lived in, just a few miles away. She had scoured every book in their library, hoping to have some clue to who the ruins had once belonged, but had no luck.

“I’ve only told Korra about this place, but she doesn’t like coming here. Says if she wanted to be surrounded by old dusty things, she’d spend time with Tenzin.” Mako let out a laugh at that.

She led him up the entrance steps and through the threshold. They stood in the foyer, light pouring in through the absent ceiling. Before them stood a great staircase, leading up into each level of the castle that had once been there. “I think it’s beautiful,” (Y/N) continued. “It's like a whole world people forgot about. I used to make up stories about what happened here when I was little. I'm sure they’re still tucked somewhere beneath my bed.”

“You’ll have to read them to me one day,” Mako said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants. (Y/N) smiled sadly.

“Let me show you the best part.”

She led him up to the tower, the only remaining fully stable part of the castle. Ivy vines curled up the base of the tower, having grown so much that they now started to cover the inside as well. Instead of windows, the tower had complete openings in the brick. It made it very cold, but it held a better view of the kingdom than (Y/N’s) own castle. In the distance were the mountains, the entire town nestled in a little pocket beneath them. Closer was the castle, its entire structure and grounds in complete view. (Y/N) glanced up at Mako, but his eyes were trained on the view before them. she smiled.

“I hadn’t been expecting to come here,” (Y/N) said, wrapping her arms around herself. “Or else I would've brought a jacket.”

“It really is exceptional,” Mako agreed. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “You should know what’s in your kingdom. You’re going to be King Mako, after all.” She smiled brightly up at him.

Mako’s cheeks flushed a pale pink. (Y/N) couldn’t tell if it was from the wind or from something else.

She returned to her room, surprised to see Korra sitting on her bed and twiddling with her bronze dagger. “I thought you were going to stay in your room all day.”

“I got bored, went to the ruins. How was your day?”

“For the most part, boring. I’m never doing your job ever again. Although you should’ve seen Tahno and Mako today. It was like two starving dogs fighting over a piece of meat.”

“Really? And what was the meat?”

“You.” (Y/N) nearly choked on her own air. “Tahno kept insisting that he come to your chambers to make sure you were alright. I would’ve punched him in the face, but Mako was all, ‘I forbid you,’ and Tahno said, ‘Who are you to forbid me?’ And Mako said ‘Your new king.’ It was very dramatic, I wish you could’ve been there. Although now I think everyone is under the impression that you’re going to marry Mako.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. She would have paid thousands in coins to be able to see that conversation. “I’ve decided I’m leaving after my birthday celebration. One last hurrah, you know?”

Korra sat up quickly, a frown on her face. “Where will you go?”

“Somewhere,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Not far away from you, of course. Someone has to keep you in line.”

“You won’t be my princess anymore. I won’t have to listen to you.” (Y/N) laughed.

“As if you ever listened to me anyway.”

(Y/N) had struck a bargain with Tenzin for her birthday celebration. She would go all out, as he wished, as long as the people in town were invited. She wanted to make sure that her last act of being royalty would be good and that it would help people. Begrudgingly, Tenzin agreed.

A birthday such as this one called for something more than the dresses that were in her closet. She could have paid to have one made, but a better idea had taken root in her head and wouldn’t leave. For the first time in years, (Y/N) walked into her mother’s chambers.

The room had been well taken care of, as per her father’s orders. No dust shined in the sunlight. It was cleaned every day, each element inspected to ensure that there had been no damage to her mother’s memory. Carefully, (Y/N) stepped through the doorway and to her mother’s wardrobe.

There had been one dress that her mother had worn that was always her favorite. She found it in the middle of the wardrobe, sticking out just a little more than the others as if it were calling to her. It was a beautiful sage green dress, made of the finest satin. It’s neckline came just below her collarbone, exposing the smooth skin of her shoulders. It’s sleeves reached her elbows, widening out into a bell shape. The dress’s design was simple, but (Y/N) felt that something this beautiful did not need extra frills.

Once the handmaidens had helped her dress, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her mother stared back at her. “You look just like her,” said Katara, the oldest of the handmaidens. She had been with (Y/N’s) mother since she was a baby, and had been with (Y/N) for nearly the same amount of time. (Y/N) smiled down at her.

“Thank you.” Katara moved over to the glass cabinet that contained her mother’s jewels. Inside sat the queen’s crown, each diamond polished to the utmost brilliance. (Y/N) bent down so the small woman could place it on her head.

Korra met (y/n) at the top of the steps, dressed in her royal guard uniform. “You look beautiful,” Korra said, her eyes glistening with tears. This would be the last night the two friends would see each other.

“So do you,” (Y/N) said with a smile. “You clean up well.”

“Hush,” Korra said, elbowing (Y/N) in the ribs. (Y/N) giggled before looping her arm through hers.

“I may or may not have extended a personal invitation to Asami,” (Y/N) said as they walked down the grand staircase. They could hear the voices coming from the ballroom.

“I know,” Korra said with a smirk. “I may or may not have hand delivered said invitation.” (Y/N’s) eyes widened with excitement. She’d have to try her best to keep her eye on Korra throughout the night.

Bolin and Mako waited at the bottom of the steps, too engaged in their conversation with each other to notice the girls approaching. Korra cleared her throat as soon as they were right behind them. The brothers turned around.

Bolin spoke first, a bright smile coming to his face. “Hey! You guys look great!” Bolin wore a deep green suit, paired with a gold cravat.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” (Y/N) beamed down at him. She turned to Mako, whose eyes were trained on her.

(Y/N) had never held much reverence for the boys that surrounded her as she grew up. They were all stuck up or arrogant, eager to impress the princess so they would have a chance at being king. She ignored them as best as she could. Her life was too busy to focus on anything other than her duties. Whenever she had gotten a free moment, she preferred to spend it with Korra.

But as she stared at Mako, with his quick eyes and permanent smirk in a deep red suit, she felt something she had never experienced before. A pulling at her chest, deep and fierce at the bottom of her heart, that made her breath catch as soon as he smiled at her.

(Y/N) had always felt out of place in her royal life, like she was constantly keeping up an act. It made sense, then, that she would have fallen for the boy whose life was completely opposite to hers.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly, just loud enough for her to hear. (Y/N) felt her face grow hot. He offered her his hand. “May i?”

(Y/N) looked back at Korra, who gave her a wink and disappeared into the crowd with bolin. She turned toward mako and nodded, placing her hand in his.

The first few dances of the night were group dances, the kind where the pairs swapped partners throughout. (Y/N) would be lying if she said she hadn’t completely ignored all of her partners as they tried to talk to her, instead searching the crowd as she spun around until her eyes landed on Mako. Sometimes, it seemed like he had been looking for her too.

After Tenzin announced her birthday and the crowd erupted into cheers, the music slowed and quieted, playing softly as the guests mingled amongst themselves. It was then that (Y/N) found Mako standing at the edge of the crowd.

“Where’d you learn to dance like that?” (Y/N) asked as she approached him. Mako smirked.

“Commoners have parties too, you know.” (Y/N) grinned.

“I'll have to go to one sometime.” Mako shifted on his feet. He seemed nervous.

“I didn’t get the chance earlier, but happy birthday (Y/N).” She smiled again.

“Thank you, Mako.”

“Could you walk with me? I hate to take you away from your guests, but…”

“It’s really alright. I told you, I'm not the biggest fan of these sorts of things.” She took Mako’s hand in hers and let him lead the way.

He took her through the hallways of the castle and to his room, a simple guest bedroom on the floor below hers. “Wait here,” he said, before disappearing inside and shutting the door behind him. (Y/N) raised her eyebrows, confused. whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t this.

After a few moments, Mako opened the door, one of his hands behind his back. “Alright, you can come in.”

Slowly, (Y/N) entered his room. It was simple, but there were elements of it that were so Mako. It was hard to explain why it made (Y/N) feel giddy being in there, or why butterflies had nestled themselves in her stomach.

“I got you a present,” Mako said.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” (Y/N) chided.

“I know, I wanted to.” He placed a small box on the wooden table between them. (Y/N) reached for it. “Before you open it, I want to say something. I sincerely thank you for bringing my brother and I into your home. for giving us the means to lead a better life. And while I’ve accepted your offer of taking the throne, I just wanted to say…” He paused, chewing on his bottom lip. “I wanted to ask if maybe you would change your mind.”

“I'm not changing my mind about this, Mako. I don’t want the throne.”

“Not that, I couldn't care less about the throne. I wanted to ask if you would change your mind about leaving.”

(Y/N) blinked at him, unsure of what to say.

“I didn’t accept your offer because I want to be king.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because if I don't, if I force you to stay here, I could be preventing you from doing what is best for you. So I agreed to be king because I didn't want you to be trapped here. Which is why I’m begging you now, please stay.”

“Mako…”

“You can’t tell me there isn’t a part of you that isn’t unsure about leaving. I saw it that night in your room. You might not want the crown, but you’re not certain that you want to leave.”

“If I give up the crown, there’s no reason for me to stay. I can’t just live in the palace as a commoner. I'd have to leave, it’s the only thing to do.”

“I want you to lead the life you want. I know your plan is to leave the kingdom tonight. If leaving is what you think is best, I understand.”

(Y/N) stared up at him. She was unsure what would be best. She had no plan, no idea what she wanted to do once she had walked through the castle gates. She anticipated that things would figure themselves out.

But the man in front of her was throwing a wrench into her plans. He stared at her so honestly that (Y/N) thought he might be staring into her soul. Was leaving what she really wanted? She would leave behind everyone she had ever known. Tenzin, Korra, Bolin. And Mako.

“If leaving is what you truly want,” Mako continued. “After tonight I will send you away with everything you need. I won’t bother you again. But before you leave, you have to know. I need you to know. That I love you, (Y/N). You are reckless and brave. You once called me kind and selfless, but those are the qualities I see in you. You asked me to take the throne and I did. I’d take on the weight of the world for you if you requested. If you leave, you’ll be taking a piece of me with you.”

(Y/N) looked up at him, searching his face for a smirk or a trick, but Mako remained serious. Genuine.

“If you don’t feel the same, I understand. I just needed to tell you before it was too late.”

(Y/N) swiftly crossed the distance between the two of them, fisting her hands into his dress shirt and pulling him down toward her. Her lips collided with his. In the fairytales she used to read, it always took someone a moment to get used to being kissed by the other, but Mako was quick. His arms wrapped around her frame, pulling her so tightly to him that she felt like she might burst.

They pulled away a few moments later, Mako leaning his head against hers as they caught their breath. He separated first, reaching back toward the small box that had sat forgotten on the table. mako’s nimble fingers untied the box, guiding one of her hands to it.

She opened it, revealing a ring. Its band was gold, with a large diamond set in the middle and two smaller diamonds surrounding it. It was simple, but it was the most beautiful ring (Y/N) had ever seen.

“It was my mother’s,” Mako said quietly. “Even if you leave, I want you to take it with you.”

Tears streamed down her face. “What’s wrong?” Mako questioned, lifting his hands to her face to wipe away her tears. “Did I upset you?”

(Y/N) shook her head fiercely, trying to gather her voice. “You’d give me something so precious to you, even if I decided to leave?”

“You are precious to me,” Mako insisted. “I want you to be happy. No matter what you choose, (Y/N), I won’t hate you.”

She looked up at him through watery eyes and stood on her toes, kissing him once more. When she pulled away, she laughed. “I tried to convince myself that I didn’t have feelings for you. I thought it would make leaving easier. But every moment I spent with you made me sad, because it meant that I was one step closer to the last.” She lifted her hand to touch his cheek, her thumb stroking his cheekbone. “I never expected for you to have my heart, but it’s yours.”

Mako breathed a sigh of relief, a bright smile coming to his face as he drew (Y/N) into his arms. He spun her around the room, both laughing before he set her back down again.

He took her right hand and slid the ring on her middle finger. They exchanged a knowing look. Not yet.

Once (y/n) had composed herself and Mako had sneaked his fair share of kisses, the two left his bedroom and returned to the ball, filtering back into the crowd completely unnoticed.

A tap on her shoulder startled her, and (Y/N) turned around to find Korra smirking down at her. “Where have you been? Tahno hijacked the ball for a bit. Said he wouldn’t let anyone leave until you accepted his proposal.”

“Did he?” (Y/N) questioned, her grip on Mako’s arm tightening. “I must’ve been distracted. I trust you took care of it, then?”

“Duh,” Korra smiled. “I enjoyed throwing him through the palace doors.”

(Y/N) squinted at Korra's face before reaching up and rubbing at the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Lipstick, in a shade strikingly similar to Asami’s.

“I can explain that,” Korra said quickly, wiping at her face with her sleeve. (Y/N) laughed.

“You can tell me all about it in the morning.”

“In the morning?” Korra repeated, her blue eyes going wide. She glanced at Mako, who looked absently elsewhere, but the corners of his lips were turned up just slightly into a smile.

“See you tomorrow, Captain Korra. Feel free to arrive a bit late.” (Y/N) gave her a wink before pulling Mako further into the crowd to dance.

---

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#mako x reader #bolin x reader #korra x reader #asami x reader #lok #legend of korra #avatar #the last airbender #atla #writing #fanfiction #hehe if ur looking at these tags there might be more fantasy aus coming

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dawn-cafe · 3 years

Text

Modern AU meet-cute series

A/N: I didn't have to include a moodboard with this but I felt like being extra. Also... this was meant to be just a headcanon list but here's a whole ficlet, I guess! Can’t decide if I’m gonna finish Childe’s or Diluc’s after this, so inputs are welcome. Requests are open, rules are here! -Hal

Prompt: meet-cute

Content includes: Part 1 of Modern AU meet-cute series. model!kaeya, semi-ooc kaeya i think, florist!reader

Pairing: kaeya x gn!reader

Kaeya: he's a model who's escaping the paparazzi and you're closing up your flower shop

Kaeya's a pretty big-name model in Mondstadt.

He's been featured in Fontaine Fashion Week for the past 2 years and has modeled for every season for Favonius & Co.'s works.

With such popularity, you'd think he'd have some sort of body guard to keep him away from the prying eyes of Teyvat Pop News.

But no, he's a pretty stubborn guy and Jean, his manager, never fails to give him a piece of her mind every time.

He finds himself escaping from a few paparazzi as he's walking home from the mall, so he detours and tries to find a place to rest after he think he's lost them.

Kaeya then spots the lights on inside a little flower shop and thinks, "Oh, thank god."

You're closing up your little flower shop, sweeping the floor of any fallen leaves and flower petals you've cut up for the day. Normally, you'd keep the shop running til evening, but something felt off and you couldn't place what it was. So it's only late afternoon, yet the shop sign has been flipped to 'CLOSED' and you're packing up hours before closing time. There's faint music coming from the back room and you're humming along to the tune when the serenity gets cut off by something knocking on glass. You jump in surprise, looking behind you to see someone by the porch. By the looks of it, they were out of breath from running.

Setting aside your cleaning equipment, you walk up to the door to see a blue-haired guy, dressed in similar-colored clothing, hands on his knees as he pants. He looks up at you with starry blue eyes and blows his bangs away. You think he looks familiar, and that he's breathtaking even when he looks frazzled.

The chimes ring as you open the door a crack. "Hey, sorry..." you start, "but we're closed for the day." you tell him halfheartedly.

Kaeya stands up and you see he's taller than you expected. He leans back and looks to the side past the road, and blue eyes meet yours in desperation. "Sorry, I'm trying to get away from... a few people." His head tilts to the side, puts on the best puppy-dog eyes he can muster, and clasps his hands together. "Can I come in and stay for a while?" he pleads.

It's bizarre, you think, that someone could look so innocently cute yet dangerously handsome at the same time. At first, your instinct is to open your mouth and agree to help him. Of course, if this was a bad situation and you're the only refuge he could find, who were you to deny him? Though there's also the possibility that this could be a really bad scheme, and he'll rob you as soon as you let him in. He looks too dashing to do such a thing, but you can never be too sure... but also do robbers even wear designer clothes like he does?

He senses the hesitation in the way you don't immediately respond. "I-It's nothing dangerous, I swear!" Kaeya's slim hands are held up in front of him in defense before he runs it through his deep blue locks. The cool afternoon breeze sweeps his cologne to your direction. He smells of mint, of fresh summer air and freedom. "The paparazzi won't get off my back and I could really use the help," He explains briefly.

At the mention of paparazzi, it makes so much more sense. You still don't remember where you've seen him, but he sure fits the role of some celebrity by the way he dresses and carries himself. That... and his face looks really attractive. He's still smiling at you with just the tiniest bit of desperation creeping in his voice when he talks. All caution goes out the window as you open the door wider. There's still no one behind him, but you usher him inside your little shop. "Alright, but if they start bombarding my business, that's on you." you warn him playfully.

The breath he's holding escapes as he exhales in relief. "You're an angel," He beams at you with the brightest of smiles.

The door closes and is locked once again, and you go around the shop to close the blinds just a little. Kaeya breathes in. He's not the first stranger to walk in your shop, but it sure feels a little awkward as if you're being judged. "Do all flower shops smell this good, or is it just yours?" he asks coyly, taking in the array of flowers and plants on display. The playful roll of your eyes and your retort of "Do you ask this to all florists, or is it just me?" make him laugh, with his eyes crinkling at the corners and a hand over his chest.

He follows you around, assisting you in closing up, and you don't miss the way he wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead most likely due to his escapade. "It's better this way," you say, pulling a string to close a set of blinds, "at least they won't see you." With the last of the blinds shut, you turn to your pseudo-customer and ask, "Would you like some water?"

"Please." the embarrassment shows on his face.

You disappear in the back room for a bit, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. When you emerge to the front of the shop, you find Kaeya seated on a barstool next to the counter, idly thumbing the calla lilies on display next to the cash register. The beginning of the day's sunset peeks through the slats of the blinds, capturing him like a painting. It's peaceful, ethereal, and you almost want to pull out your phone and take a quick photo to immortalize what you see. It doesn't help that some love song starts playing on the shop's speakers. The spell is broken when he catches you looking, and he looks at you with an easygoing smile.

Clearing your throat, you step forwards and place the bottle of water in front of him. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, and if he notices you were staring, he doesn't comment on it. "Here." You place the bottle in front of him and he takes it eagerly. "Thank you." Kaeya bows his head graciously.

Picking up where you left off, you hold the broomstick and dustpan and start cleaning the floors again. "So um... you're gonna have to forgive me," you sheepishly smile at him, "but why are you being chased by the paps?"

As fate would have it, the magazine rack next to the counter has several magazines including a copy of last month's Mondstadt Fashion. And he recognizes himself on the cover, wearing a few of Favonius & Co.'s Spring Collection pieces. Kaeya picks up the magazine and places it on the counter, which you peer at curiously. The double-take you do makes him laugh again, watching you look at the cover, then to him in front of you, and back at the cover.

"Oh," you murmur as the realization dawns on you. "you're a model."

You don't dwell much on celebrity gossip so you don't really recognize most of them at first glance. But no wonder he seemed familiar, you'd seen him in a couple of magazines both in your store and in news sites. If paparazzi were chasing him, he must be a huge hit with the general public.

For Kaeya, however, he shrugs like it's no big deal. "Specifically, Teyvat's hottest model and top bachelor of 2021." he says as he closes the water bottle cap. "According to Mond Fashion." he adds with a cheeky wink. You scrunch up your nose impishly. "Still though, having paparazzi invade your privacy and all." you shake your head to the floor mostly, still occupied with cleaning the remaining dirt. "Glad I could be of use somewhat." you tell him.

“Kaeya.” he holds out his hand in a formal handshake.

You give him your name and grasp his hand; it’s soft, like the smile that never leaves his face

Kaeya offers to help around with your closing routine, but you stop him before he could pick up the broom again. It feels wrong having someone else do your tasks even though it's offered in good faith (and after all, he wanted to repay you for taking him in past your closing time). So you settle with having him arrange your excess daisies in a basket for tomorrow's bouquet orders. It's pretty easy work that he couldn't mess up, so you leave him at it while you clean out your floral buckets. Still, you try to speed through your routine and leisurely chat with him, thinking he must be bored with his task.

What hobbies do celebrities even have?, you wonder. Surely it can't be chatting up some florist and counting flowers.

"Do I look pretty?" he asks abruptly. And when your eyes land on him, your breath gets caught in your throat.

Kaeya looks different. In fashion magazines he's featured in, he's always prim and proper, composed. It's not to say he's stiff, because he definitely carries that confidence wherever he goes. But to be dressed and told to act, smile, and pose a certain way; it can look... artificial. But here, sitting on a barstool with a few daisies in his hair; here with his blue jacket draped across his lap, a loose white shirt and hands full of flowers. Here, where instead of studio lights, it's just the soft lights overhead on your small store. And here, where instead of cameras taking shots upon shots of his face, it's just you in your apron that he focuses on.

"Breathtakingly so." You smile.

By the end of the day, he has a whole flower crown on his head and you wonder why blue's related to sadness when it's brought you joy when you least expect it.

#i swear i only meant to make this a headcanon list #somehow i ended up with over 1.6k words on kaeya alone so that's that #i know nothing about flower shops im sorry #and i haven't written in ages #just hal things #genshin impact #genshin impact moodboard #genshin moodboard #genshin impact fanfic #genshin fanfic #genshin kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya #kaeya fanfic #kaeya x reader #kaeya moodboard #moodboard #fic

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hermits-that-craft · 3 years

Text

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Two - Can You Hear The Bumblebees Swarm?

Ao3 in the comments

Jimmy’s late. He doesn’t mean to be late to the meeting, and he knows that he won't be the latest to the meeting - he just prefers to be slightly early so that there's no chance for him to be late.

Landing roughly in The Overgrown, Jimmy dusts off his pants before walking inside Katherine’s meeting hall. Katherine smiles brightly at him, and Lizzie sits with Pearl, laughing.

“Early again, Codfather?” Katherine teases, and Lizzie turns her head.

“I honestly thought I was late, Lizzie told me you changed the time?”

“Lizzie!” Katherine gasps, scandalised. “Why would you do that?”

“I remember growing up with him, it would take centuries to get him out of bed.” Lizzie smiles lightly, and Jimmy’s thankful for his mask, hiding the flush of his face.

“And it took longer to get you away from your window when Joel was pegging rocks at it.” Jimmy says lightly.

“Sleep well, Codfather?” Pearl asks, weaving herself a new sunflower crown.

“I could fall asleep for a while, but afterwards it was fine.” Jimmy lies easily, and Lizzie glares at him suspiciously.

“Oh! Any dreams?” Katherine asks. “We could try and work out if you’re an oracle.”

“Nothing important, just a dance in a flower field.” Jimmy pointedly ignores Lizzie as the other rulers slowly walk into the hall.

LDShadowLady whispers to you: Why didn’t you tell me? You whisper to LDShadowLady: Didn’t want to wake you, it wasn’t a nightmare anyways. LDShadowLady whispers to you: You promised me that you would. You whisper to LDShadowLady: I’m going to talk to Gem about it. I’m sick of being tired all the time LDShadowLady whispers to you: Thank goodness. I don’t want to have to worry about you anymore. You whisper to LDShadowLady: You won't anymore, I promise.

“Great, now that everyone’s here, let's start the meeting!” Katherine says. “Does anyone have any news to share?”

“Did you really call a meeting without any news to share?” Shubble asks, standing on her chair in order to see over the table. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, its just that we’ve all got empires to run and we’re kind of busy-”

“No, I do have news. I just wanted to open discussion to the table. If anyone else has anything to say.” Katherine smiles, and Jimmy watches Sausage and Fwip from the corner of his eyes. They seem off, smiling to themselves as though they have something to say, though their mouths are firmly closed.

“Well, Rivendell’s alchemists are working on a way to reverse the corruption,” Scott says, and Jimmy looks at the elven king. He’s tall, with soft blue hair and sapphire blue eyes and Jimmy has to tear his eyes away before he’s drowning in them. “If you all would allow it, I would like to send my alchemists to your kingdoms to observe and take samples of the corruption.”

“That sounds wonderful, I’d like to take you up on that offer.” Jimmy surprises the whole room, including himself, as he accepts Scott’s proposal. The aid will be necessary in order to protect his kingdom, and Joel did say that Scott might want to be allies.

He should find Scott after the meeting.

“I will also take you up on that offer.” Katherine agrees, giving Fwip and Sausage a warning look. “Is there any other topic to be brought up?”

“I don’t believe so.” Fwip says, and Jimmy winces under his mask. The steady voice, even and unsettling. Jimmy’s overthinking.

An even voice, carefully calculating, offering them an alliance, knowing full well that his husband will end up on the altar, to be sacrificed. Burning the banner, loosing his love before dying himself-

“-A ball, in honour of House Blossom’s continued strong alliances!” Katherine’s words shake Jimmy out of him stupor. “I would like to invite some of you to help in the building of a public hall so that we can all attend in luxury.”

“I can help.” Pearl agrees immediately.

“I’d love to help as well.” Gem agrees. “The Crystal Cliffs can offer some amethyst for the roof!”

“I’ll follow your instructions, if you’ll have me.” Jimmy offers with a polite smile, not believing that Katherine will take him up on the offer.

“Oh Jimmy, that’ll be such a great help!” Katherine accepts his offer, pointedly ignoring Fwip’s snort with a large smile.

Oh no, Jimmy smiles. “No problem, Katherine. Anything for an ally.”

This was a horrid idea.

“Is there anything else we need to discuss?” Sausage asks. “My advisors are getting cross at my absence.”

“No, nothing.” Katherine says. “You’re all free to go.”

“Oh!” Jimmy says, as people begin to leave. “Gem, could I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” The wizard says, walking besides him as they head out of the meeting hall, “What can I help you with?”

“I was wondering what dreams mean?” Jimmy says.

“I’m sorry?”

And Jimmy spills. He tells her everything, the recurring nightmares, the screaming, the glowing, the shadow husband and the war and the dying in a way thats permanent, the green-yellow-red lives.

“I had one last night. But it was different this time. It wasn’t a nightmare, but it was the same place. Like something that happened only a few days before.” Jimmy says, wringing his hands.

“Oh my.” Gem says, concern lacing her expression. “I haven’t really experienced anything like this before, I’ll have to research it for you. Tell me if you have one again.”

“You sound like Lizzie.” Jimmy jokes. “But I will. Let me know what you discover?”

“Of course, it’s your health.” Gem says. “I have to get going, but I hope you sleep well tonight.”

“Thanks Gem.” Jimmy waves to her before she flies away.

He needs to get home, and pen a letter to Scott about their alliance.

----

Lizzie and Joel laugh as they sit in Joel’s dinning room, eating lunch and joking about snotty old advisors. The room is quiet, a cool breeze coming through the windows, high ceilings trapping the hot air above them, making the palace livable.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, your highnesses,” a soldier says, her voice slightly panicked. “But the King of Rivendell is here to speak with you both.”

Lizzie and Joel exchange nervous looks. She knows that Scott is allied with Sausage and Fwip, is this a declaration of war? Or perhaps a warning, since those two always were cowards? But he seems to be courting Jimmy, could it be an ask to marry her brother? After only a day?

Lizzie, admittedly, doesn’t know much about life on land, much less about elven culture.

“Of course, we’ll see him in the parlor.” Joel says, standing slowly. The young guard nods, rushing out of the room with an air of panic to her steps. “Are you alright, love?”

“If he’s here for war-”

“He wouldn’t be. You saw how he looked at Jimmy during Katherine’s meeting.” Joel says. “He’s probably just going to ask to court him.”

“That’s worse. You understand how thats worse, right?”

“Why is it worse?”

“Because Scott is allied with our enemies, with Jimmy’s enemies.”

“It's not official.” Joel reminder her quietly. “Rivendell remains firmly neutral in all conflicts, allying itself with only those closest for trade, Lizzie. Not for aid in war.”

“But-”

“Let’s hear him out.” Joel says. “And in the end, it’s Jimmy's decision.”

“Okay, fair enough.” Lizzie grumbles, playfully hitting her husband.

“Abuse! Abuse! Oh, how the love of my life wounds me.” Joel dramatisies as they walk to the parlor.

They enter the room, watching as Scott stops nervously pacing. His wings twitch and puff out, which confuses Lizzie to no end. He looks either aggressive or scared - she could never tell the difference, since seagulls are only arrogant.

“Hello, your highnesses.” Scott bows.

“King Scott.” Lizzie says, bowing back to the man.

“Why do we earn the pleasure of having you here?” Joel asks, sitting down at a soft recliner, the one that Lizzie claims normally - how dare he?

“I would like to court Jimmy.” Scott says, as though he were announcing the end of the world. “And I have come to seek Lizzie’s permission specifically, as his elder sister.”

Joel and Lizzie exchange a look, both wearing the same ‘I told you so’ expression. However, this only seems to make Scott more nervous. He’ll need to adapt to their silent conversations if he wants to court Jimmy, Lizzie thinks quietly.

“I’m an excellent builder, having completely rebuilt Rivendell. My people can attest that I am both a wise and kind ruler, and I can provide Jimmy and the cod empire with years of prosperity.” Scott rambles, tugging nervously at his cape. “I’ll aid him in wars, and I’ll never raise a hand against him, no matter the circumstances.”

“Is this what you felt like when you asked my parents to court me?” Lizzie mumbles to Joel, and Scott continues on.

“Honestly, asking Jimmy was harder.” Joel replies. “He interrogated me when I asked him if I could marry you.”

“All bark, no bite my brother is.” Lizzie rolls her eyes. “Scott, how long have you been seeing Jimmy for?”

“I beg your pardon?” Scott says, blinking feverishly.

“How long have you and Jimmy been dating?” Lizzie asks again. “I’m not going to be mad.”

“We haven’t seen each other..” Scott says. “That’s immoral, I couldn’t ask him out without your permission.”

“Is that an elf thing?” Lizzie asks Joel, semi loudly. “Or a land thing?”

“I believe it’s an elven culture.” Joel says, “Correct, Scott?”

“How do your people court?” Scott asks, eyebrows frowning ever so slightly.

“Well,” Lizzie begins, “We see each other for a while, then ask the others family to begin courting. Most civilians date for a few months, then begin courting, but us royals have to take it slowly.”

“Oh.” Scott winces.

“How do elves court?” Lizzie asks, cocking her head to the side.

“We ask a potential suitor’s family if we could begin courting, and then we court for a few months before we begin dating properly.” Scott says slowly.

“Well, I have a few questions for you.” Lizzie says. “Before I can pass judgement on your potential relationship!”

“Lizzie, be nice.” Joel warns, before turning to a book he had left on the coffee table.

“I will, now, does Jimmy know that you like him?”

“No, thats why we court for a few months first.” Scott says. “To prove to our potential suitor that we are worthy of spending the rest of our life with them.”

“Interesting.” Lizzie nods, frowning at the window. “And you promise to stop if you make him uncomfortable?”

“The second he tells me to, I will stop all advances.” Scott promises.

“And you swear that you will never lay a hand on him?” Lizzie asks.

“I swear it.” Scott says. “I swear it on Aoer.”

“Final question.” Lizzie smiles at Scott. “Why do you like Jimmy?”

“He’s like the sun.” Scott says. “It’s like the world is in an eternal night without him around, even when he’s fighting my allies and he believes that I’m going to join them. Just standing near him is like seeing a sunset for the first time.”

“Damn, you have it bad for him.” Joel says, ignoring Lizzie as she slaps his arm. “Darling, I think you have to let him try his luck with Jimmy.”

“You are unreasonably in love with Jimmy.” Lizzie says, smiling softly. “You should court him, Scott. Don’t you dare hurt him, but may I be honest with you?”

“Thank you,” Scott gasps, flushed red with slight embarrassment. “And sure, what would you like to tell me?”

“I think you aren’t physically able to hurt Jimmy.” Lizzie says. “I think you’re too in love to even look him in the eye. Good luck, land boy.”

And Scott leaves the room, Joel openly laughing as he hears Scott whoop for joy as he flies off. It’s a lovely day, and the married couple can’t help but think that they secured Jimmy someone who would go to war for him. Perfect husband material.

They don’t notice the red eyes watching from the servants corridors. Why would they? Lizzie’s allowed Scott to try and win Jimmy’s heart.

#imd(wyrm)#in my dreams (will you remember me)#empires smp #empires jimmy #empires scott #empires smp fic

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nicka-nell · 4 years

Note

If you’re alright with it, I’d like to request something with Aizawa! Maybe the reader is normally a very confident person but when they’re intimate for the first time she gets really nervous and insecure about her body to the point of ‘ruining the moment’ or something?

Hi Yes sure! I’m alright with it! I love Aizawa *u* This sounds so sweet! ♥ I hope I understand it right and that you like it!

I wish you a wonderful day and stay healthy and safe. :)

Insecurity - ruining the moment

Character: Aizawa Shouta x reader Warning: none

Even though you’ve only been together for half a year, you feel like you’ve been with Aizawa for ages.

At first, Aizawa was sceptical about your self-confident appearance, not knowing if there were only empty words behind it. But when he got to know you, he quickly learned that behind all that self-confidence, there really is a tough and wonderful woman.

It was a slow process, but before he knew it, he was in love with you. Lucky for him, you were in love with him too. Also, you were the one who asked him to become a couple and gave him a kiss for the first time.

He loves that you are so strong, so independent, and that you stand up for what is important to you.

Humming, you stand in the kitchen, unpacking the groceries as two wide hands wrap around your hip, and Aizawa’s prickly beard tickles your shoulder.

“Do you need help, kitten?” Kisses his rough, yet gentle voice your ear.

You’re about to tell him it’s not much, but Aizawa already has the bag with the purchases in his hand and is clearing them out. Piece by piece, things end up in your closets as his questioning voice catches your attention.

“Did you buy new towels?” He raises his arm, holds a piece of black cloth in his hand and wants to unfold it just as you pull it out of his hand.

“This is a surprise! You know what? You keep clearing out the groceries. I’ll be right back!” You grin and leave him alone in the kitchen.

Quickly you slip into the bedroom, unfold the black fabric and take off the price tag before holding it in front of your body and looking into the mirror. A short black dress, not too tight to show everything of your body, but also not too loose to hide everything.

You can feel the soft texture on your skin as you shove it over your body. It flatters your shape as if it was cut just for you. Probably that’s why you bought the dress. That, and to please Aizawa.

Your heart beats fast as you walk out of the bedroom and sneak into the kitchen on tiptoes, where Aizawa clears the last things from the shopping bag into the closets. He has not yet noticed that you are back, but when your warm hands lie around his eyes and block his vision, he becomes attentive.

“Surprise!” He hears your tender voice that makes him happy every time.

“Surprise? But I see nothing, kitten,” as soon as he has spoken his words, the view becomes brighter before his eyes, and you scurry into his picture.

Aizawa’s eyes grow big, and he is also sure that his cheeks have gained a touch of color. Amazed, he looks at you as you spin with a lively grin to present him the dress. He can’t remember the last time you wore a dress, or if you had one at all. But this one looks so incredibly sexy on you. Your bare legs, the fabric on your beautiful curves, your collarbone that blinks out slightly through the straps and especially your proud, yet playful look as you bite your lower lip.

“Do you like it?” You ask with a mischievous grin as Aizawa pulls you at your waist in his direction.

“If I like it? You always look good. But yes, I really like that.”

“Really? Then show me how much you like it, Shouta.” You breath and hope for a little ‘I love you’ or some loving kisses. But what you get instead, you didn’t expect.

His expression is a mixture of lust and pure darkness as he chuckles and brushes his disheveled hair out of his face before reducing the final distance between you and pressing your body to his chest, his lips firmly on yours.

You feel like your heart’s about to explode. Aizawa is warm, his kisses almost too hot for your soul. Slowly, his fingertips stroll along your shape, down to your bare thighs, before he grabs you by these and pulls you up.

“Wah Shouta!” You squeal as he smiles at you lovingly and puts you on the countertop. Just when you want to ask him what he’s up to, his lips cut off your words and seek the warmth of yours. Yet, you don’t know how long you can withstand these increasingly wild and intimate kisses.

Aizawa’s hands, which have been exploring your covered body the whole time, now find their way under your dress, pull it from your thighs up to your waist and before you know it, you are only sitting in your underwear in front of him.

For a moment, your kiss dissolves, and he examines you with reddened cheeks. His breath is fast, his eyes are slow as they try to study every inch of your body.

Only now do you realize you are hardly wearing anything, and he can see all of your body. All the ugly things that bother you. Unconsciously you put your hands around your upper body, looking ashamed over at the light switch.

Although you always sleep next to each other, and you had seen Aizawa naked before, because he does not mind only in underwear or even without this, from the bathroom after a shower, to come to the bedroom and dress there, you feel insecure. Because you always wear your pyjamas. He hadn’t seen you naked.

He won’t find you beautiful with all the marks you have, you think. You want to reach for the dress in Aizawa’s hands, but he pulls it away from you, looks you in the eyes with a wrinkled forehead.

“What’s the matter, Y/n? Why are you trying to hide from me?” Aizawa’s voice is serious, as is his expression as he wraps your face with his free hand and draws your gaze back to his.

“I- I don’t know, don’t look at me like that… I… don’t want you to… see me like this… I-” Sighing, he lets go of your face and you are sure that you have scared him away, but instead he puts the dress between his belt and pants and pulls you into his arms.

Instinctively, you place your hands around his neck to avoid falling when he leaves the kitchen with you in his arms and goes to the bedroom. In front of the big mirror in which you were looking at yourself with your dress just a few minutes ago.

Carefully he sets you down, stands behind you and asks you to look into the mirror. You still feel insecure, holding your hands back in front of your body, but he grabs your wrists and pulls your arms to the sides of your form.

“Look at you Y/n. What are you ashamed of? Your skin is so soft, so warm that I can’t help but touch it,” he lets go of your hands, pats every curve of your body.

“Your breasts, your beautiful belly, your waist, your butt, your legs, everything is perfect on you. But your eyes are most beautiful when they shine at me as before, your charming smile, which takes my breath away. I know I rarely say this, but I love you Y/n. Everything about you. Do you really think a grain too much or too little will change that? That scars, stretch marks, pimples, cellulite or anything else disfigure a person who is perfect? Y/n for me, you are perfect and not just because of your appearance. Everything about you is just right for me. You’re beautiful, from the outside and from the inside.”

At his last words, he interrupts your eye contact, instead giving you a kiss on the crown before his hands settle on your shoulders.

“I wish you could see yourself with my eyes so you could understand how wonderful you are,” Aizawa whispers to you, as he gives you a gentle kiss on the crook of your neck. Just a second after, he reaches for the dress and presses it into your hands.

“Get dressed, my love. I’ll make us something to eat.” With a barely visible smile, he looks at you through the mirror one last time before leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him gently to let you think about his words in peace.

About Aizawa’s words that you’re perfect for him.

#aizawa x reader #shouta x reader #eraserhead x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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akiraink-no · 3 years

Text

Empires SMP-Spirts/Fae AU

Hey! So I was watching Shubble’s stream(right after her first episode and as she was playing, I got some ideas for the Empires SMP! Note: I haven’t watched everyone’s episodes on Empires, but I highly suggest that you check them all out. Pearl and Gem’s videos on Empires are some of my favorites, but I also love Shubble, Scott, fWhip, and Pixlriffs.

Initial World-building: I like to think that the Empires SMP is a story of spirits/fae/royal courts. For example some of the players would be spirits or fae creatures. (Think Scott, Shubble, Jimmy?? And maybe Pixl), and the rest would be normal, human players that are royals. (Again, fWhip, Mythical, Pearl, Katherine, Joey, Gem, etc…) I’ll start with the fae creatures first and if I’m up to it, I’ll post my ideas for the others.

Scott Smajor: Ice/Wind

So in my head, I like to think that Scott is a fae creature from the court of ice and wind. (Mostly because ice powers are cool and because he’s in a mountain). He has explicitly stated that he’s building in an elven sort of style, which can still match with him being from a fae court.

Personality:

I would like to say he’s cold, calculating, and even ruthless or cruel at times (He murdered Gem after she died, guys, come on). He sees the people around him as assets that can help him, but he doesn’t form a real connection with any of them just yet. Everything is very strict and formal around him

I like to think that because wind spirits are pretty mischievous and free spirited, he has a softer side to him as well. He likes to pull pranks, but doesn’t know when too far is too far. His pranks can border on cruel and sometimes insensitive, but it’s because wind/ice spirits are probably the most detached from the other spirits

Appearance:

As for his appearance, I’m taking his skin as part of my inspiration. I like the idea of him in whites, blues, golds, and silvers. He has a crown of diamond shards that mimic ice and is held together with silver and gold that mimic branches. His robes are mostly white(representing snow) and there would be a trim of blue for the skies above his lands. He might have either arm bands, bracelets, or rings that are made of silver or gold(representing the times when the sun or moon hits the snow).

Powers(?)

Because Scott is an ice/wind spirit, I think it would be cool if parts of him would reflect that. Maybe his skin is super pale and cold to the touch. Maybe he doesn’t wear furry coats because he doesn’t get cold.

The air around him gets colder when he’s angry or stressed, and if he gets really pissed, he could make it start to snow around him. When he’s sad, ice starts to freeze the ground under his feet or plants around him. Maybe it gets windy when he’s happy or dies down when something shocks him

I also think it’d be cool if he had like… frost walker(?) on his feet. Like the water freezes should he get too close and he doesn’t even realize it until someone points it out. It makes travel easy for him, but also an annoyance when he is doing a build or getting a bucket of water

Shubble: Nature/Decay

So Shubble’s kingdom/empire is called the Undergrowth. When I think of that, I think of mushrooms, soil, roots, and trees. It’s pretty close to what she’s planning right now. Her style of building gives me very cottage core vibes that’s very overgrown. I like to think that she’s a nature spirit because she has said that nature provides and that just seems like a very spirit thing to say.

So I know I said decay, but when it comes to decay, it has an interesting look to everyone. Sometimes it’s bleached bones and withered grass, sometimes it’s spongy soil and mushrooms. I like to think that Shubble is the kinder side to decay(That’s saved for someone else). Something that must happen for the cycle of life to continue, she isn’t ruthless or cruel, she’s just trying to help the earth along.

Personality:

Shubble would be very kind, sweet, and overall very trusting. That doesn’t mean she’s stupid or naive, it just means she’s willing to be kind to people first and give them chances to show their kindness. (I spent a long time in her chat during her streams and… yeah, wholesome energy).

She doesn’t see the people around her as assets and rather hopes to make friends rather than enemies. I won’t say she forms connections quickly(mostly because I haven’t seen her interact with others just yet). But she is very trusting. (remember fWhips potatoes and Pearl’s shovel). During her stream after her first episode aired, she talked about hoping to be friends with Katherine from House Blossom and is aiming to stay as peaceful as possible during the time of the server.

Appearance:

So I haven’t seen her skin yet(mostly because this is coming out before we see it.) But she’s using a lot of browns, yellows, greens, and reds. I would like to say that her outfit would sort of reflect that. Instead of a crown of precious gems and metals, it’s maybe a crown of twigs, branches, leaves, and maybe some smaller mushrooms. (Antlers would be cool, so… )

I don’t think a dress would work, since she does a lot of work around her base. (Her stream was having her working with trees, leaves, and mining), so I think maybe a pair of overalls (maybe a brown?), a yellow/red undershirt and maybe a dark green jacket. Her outfit would be perfect for her to get on her hands and knees and dig into the earth(Gardener! Shubble).

Powers:

I feel like because Shubble has this overall sweet and kind energy, I think mushrooms would grow from around her feet. Maybe she can sense when things are about to pass on and tries to make them as comfortable as possible. She can communicate with the earth below her(again, nature provides), and can speak with the animals to some degree

I would like to see spore blossoms react to her. Since spores are also the seeds for mushrooms, it’d just make sense in my head. Maybe she can coax plants to bloom or grow slightly faster around her if she’s happy. Maybe when she’s sad, things start to wilt or shrivel up. Her anger makes things die or age rapidly around her. Her touch can either harm or heal. Knitting the body’s wounds or it could tear into them, causing them agony.

Jimmy: Ghosts/Decay

I like to think that maybe Jimmy started out human. Or maybe he’s half human. Like one of his parents was human and the other was a fae. (It would certainly explain his skin)

Personality:

So I haven’t watched a lot of Jimmy, but I wanted to get this off my chest because it’s been in my head for a while now. I think Jimmy, like Shubble, is trusting. Not as much as Shubble, but he does aim for friendship first and then enemy second. So, maybe he’s an opportunist instead.

Another thing that he might be is petty or spiteful(see his and Sausage’s argument over a music disc). Another ruler might negotiate or bargain their way to what they want, but I think that either Jimmy is pretty young(for fae standards) or his mixed bloodline makes it hard for him to act with a clearer head. It’s pretty clear that he wants others to take him seriously, but at the same time, he can act very impulsive and rashly(See all of 3rd life).

Appearance:

It’s pretty clear that Jimmy has that green tinge to his skin. But I think he would have colours such as green(for obvious reasons), browns, and maybe some greys(for clay in the swamp). He wouldn’t have a crown, instead, he’d have a set of gills on each side of his neck. Since I like to think that he swims around in the swamp to talk to the cod in his kingdom.

For more formal events, he might have a brown cloak and pants with a rich green tunic. He doesn’t look the most royal, but maybe that’s okay because he doesn’t want to be seen as super royal to the rest of his kingdom. Maybe he feels like if he appears to be too royal, the people of his kingdom wouldn’t approach him.

Powers:

So Jimmy’s was pretty difficult. Swamps aren’t like ice and wind or nature. But he is a spirit of decay. A less kind version of decay, but not overall cruel. Maybe his decay strikes faster than Shubbles. Where she is understanding and aims to help those along, Jimmy is buried with memories, sunken bodies, and ghostly apparitions.

So maybe he can see the dead, ghosts who haven’t passed on and simply wander his empire. His eyes glow a faint green whenever he talks to them and tries to aid them to move on to the afterlife.When he’s happy, he shines in the dark backdrop of the swamp, drawing more of the dead, eager to pass on.

Maybe his anger results in ghostly wails or being dragged into the soft earth around his home. His sadness draws more of the dead to his area, even if they didn’t die there. His pain and grief is like a blackhole, pulling souls in and forcing them to stick around, stuck in his orbit. Maybe a certain few stayed because he was the first one who spoke to them, who reached out to them, who made an effort.

Pixlriffs:Time/Death

So Pixlriffs has said that he wants to watch over the others deaths with his vigil and he lives in a desert, so I thought they would work with each other. When you think of time, you think of hourglasses, they have sand so that’s the connection I made.

Personality:

So Pix has shown an unhinged side to his overall calm and collected composure.(Example, Episode Ten, I think?) His: I sent five people to their deaths and they granted me wings(paraphrased) line is both chilling and is also perfect for a spirit of time/death.

He, like Scott, is a bit disconnected from the others. Not by accident or nature, but by choice. As a spirit of time and death, he sees the clocks above everyone’s heads, knowing when their last breaths will be taken and when those clocks finally stop.

It’s not that he’s apathetic to his fellow kings and queens, but rather he is scared. He doesn’t want to form connections only to see them disappear like a drop of sand in a desert. He wishes to honour the people who have weaseled their way into his heart. So he keeps the vigil to count their deaths and remind them that they will not be forgotten. Pixl is a watcher, an overseer that is afraid of the day his friends will pass on and leave him alone.

Appearance:

The man calls himself the copper king, so I have to have those shades of copper in his outfits somewhere. Teal, brown(for bronze), and those shades between (for copper)are very good(both in builds and on clothes). I also think that pale yellow(representing the sand) is also a nice touch and green for his lush gardens is also a wonderful tone.

He has a cape that is mostly teal(I’m thinking the shift between the third to final stage) with a bronze belt. The pale yellow would be his shirt and his pants would be a darker brown. Matching his boots.

I think he would have a crown with pale yellow crystals(yellow zircon or topaz) with bronze wires making up the rest of the crown. Maybe there are pieces of turquoise or aquamarine, that would be cool too.

Powers:

The man is basically a watcher. He has wings and can see through time. Like I said before, he can see the clocks ticking above the other players’ heads. Seeing how long they have until their last breath. Pixl is equal parts chaotic and calm. So I think he has a good control over his emotions.

When he’s stressed things start to wilt under his feet(another reason he lives in a desert), in his anger, he can cause death. Maybe he’s just an omen or something that draws in death. (See his end raiding attempts one and two). I like to think that maybe he has the ability to hold flames or make small ones(just for his candles), he isn’t violent or uses them to hurt others. He simply just uses them to light his candles.

He’s more than capable with his other abilities.

This is all I have for now. If I decide to do the others, I’ll add a link to this post. I’d appreciate some information or ideas for the other players since I haven’t had the chance to touch down on all of them. If you have any ideas, feel free to send them to me too!

#empires smp #scott smajor #shubbleyt #solidaritygaming #pixlriffs #minecraft

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natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

11 - Van Halen...

Hi there one and all.

Can I first start by saying farewell to Cozy. I've known him for about fifteen years and would not say he was a close friend or anything, but whenever we caught up with each other there was always time for a beer and chat. He was an A1 guy and will be greatly missed as a person and as a brilliant drummer. When John Bonham died he left the crown for the best rock drummer to Cozy, and I can't think of anyone worthy enough to take over. When Bonzo died we were doing a show at Madison Square Gardens, and as they were going into Champions Fred said, "This one's for John Bonham." The place erupted. If that's Bonzo's song, then I think Cozy should inherit We Will Rock You, because he was THE best rock drummer.

My social life has been quite hectic again. Caught up with Status Quo when they played here recently, they're always good fun to chat with, and they still put on a decent show. Next Sunday I'm gonna see Matchbox 20. Have a listen to their album, it's really good. Last night was the all new Van Halen, and thanks to my mate Nick I had one of those wonderful VIP passes hanging round my neck. I, along with the rest of the world was curious to know what Gary Cherone was going to be like. Brilliant. This has to be the best VH line up yet. The show was being filmed by MTV, so if you see it and the camera pans around to the sound desk, just look for the best looking guy in the building and that'll be me, standing next to him.

Anyway, back to VH. They are still a great rock band, a great live act and great musicians, and I still hate drum solo's. But back to Mr Cherone. We all know what he did at the Tribute, and we all know he's a huge Queen fan, and he's the closest singer to Freddie I've ever seen. His outfit, black satin shirt and flared black satin pants. I seem to remember FM wearing that around 75/76. His mic stand is the FM 'wand', except it's a lot longer. His movements are very theatrical, and dare I say camp at times, with lots of twists and turns, very Freddie. Don't get me wrong here, I'm not knocking him at all, he is an amazing showman and doesn't stop all night, even jumping into the crowd and running up the steps to the top of the arena, and then tumbling down like a stuntman. It's good rock 'n roll, so try and check them out, I don't think you'll regret it. (I've become concert reviewer all of a sudden) At times he even sounds like another singer, but I won't keep on, I'll leave it to somebody else. On the rock station, Triple M, one of the jocks this afternoon said, "He's been watching to many videos of our dear departed friend Freddie Mercury. His movements were exactly like his."

The first time I ever saw Van Halen was at a place called the Circus Krona(!) in good old Munich. I went along to see them with the curly one, and when we got there I had to instantly phone the studio and try and get Rog to come along because it was the biggest PA system I had ever seen in a place that size. When they started the intro tape it was so loud I thought my chest was gonna cave in, the bass just pinned you to your seat. Needless to say Brian was like a pig in shit. Before I tell you my little Queen story, I have to tell you about what I consider to be the best onstage patter I think I've ever heard. David Lee Roth was talking to the crowd between numbers and somebody in the crowd chucked a paper cup or something at him, he stopped talking, looked round in the general direction and said, "Hey man, you can throw what you like at me. Because tonight I'm going to f**k your chick." 20,000 people loved it, and so did I cause I still remember him saying it.

OK. We were touring the States, probably around 81/82, and we were flying to Portland. The band entourage were traveling on a wonderful private plane, and as the crew would have been in the bus for about 24 hrs we took as many as we could with us. The date was Sept.1, I remember because thats my birthday, and when we boarded the plane there was a huge cake with 'Happy Birthday Crystal' on it, and even more booze than we normally had. (Somebody must have expected something) One of the nice things about private planes is that you can make detours and the pilot flew around Mt St Helens a few times so we could see right into the crater, and it was still steaming, an amazing sight. Back to my birthday and a few of us needed some privacy, so Jim 'Mary' Devenney, Jimmy ' Idiot Boy' Barnett, Peter 'Feebie' Freestone, Roger '*******' Taylor and myself stocked up with a couple of drinks and retired to the Master Bedroom for a discussion on world politics. When the plane landed we were still a few thousand feet up in the air, legless is the best way to describe us. Hey, it was my birthday after all. We fell into the limo's and headed to the hotel, and the crew went on to theirs.

On arrival I found out that Van Halen were staying there, and they were playing that night, so I secured a few million passes and went looking for somebody to go partying with. After all it was 4pm and if I went to sleep I'd wake up feeling awful so I had to continue. RT said he was gonna crash, but Feebie and Terry were ready to go, so we said we would go to the first bar we came to. As it turned out it was a topless joint, and needless to say I was shocked and stunned, but a deals a deal. We were drinking shots of peppermint schnapps with vodka and orange chasers, very intelligent. At about 8pm we all shot off to watch VH, and they were great. After the show both bands arrange to meet in the bar at the hotel, but the bar is one of those stupid ones in the middle of the lobby. So there we are, the four Queenies, Feebie, Wally, Tunbrige, Terry and me, and the four Van Halens, all sitting around having a slurp, and VH's minders running around like headless chickens in the CIA. Outside the main doors were hundreds of fans, with a VH gorilla keeping them out, even to the point of stopping Ratty coming in. I had to argue with this moron to let one of our crew in, and he said, "If he goes anywhere near David or Eddie I'll throw him out." I could only answer with that wonderful two worded phrase starting and ending in F. Because it was like being in a fish bowl we decided to leave the bar, and everyone wandered off to various rooms to continue, the biggest bash being in Rogers suite.

At some unknown hour whilst I'm having a very pleasant conversation with a charming lady who called herself 'Naughty Nancy,' Jobby says to me, "I've been looking for you, Tunbridge wants you to call him now, it's urgent, Brians had an accident." Jobby was very drunk and I didn't know if he was serious or joking, so I phoned Tunbridges room and there was no reply. What do I do now? If Brians asleep and I wake him I'm in trouble, and if he has hurt himself and I don't call I'm still in trouble. What do I care? I'm drunk and fearless, so I phone and Tunbridge asks me to get there asap.

When I go in, Brians lying on the bed on his side, with the waste paper bin close at hand, and Tunbrige is grinning and mopping his brow with a damp cloth. Brian was mumbling stuff like "Don't let me die." (I'm sure most of us have been there at sometime or another) I probably shouldn't say this, but I had to grin, I thought it highly amusing. I got an explanation and told Tunbridge not to let him sleep on his back, and call me if there were anymore problems. I then returned to NN.

It turned out that when we all left the bar, Brian had gone to Eddie's room where they consumed huge quantities of Jack Daniels, and Brian not being a bourbon drinker, went to the toilet to worship the porcelain god, and threw up with such gusto he hit his head on the cistern, split his head open and nearly knocked himself out. The following night we played the same place VH did, and Mr May with band aid on head, played a blinder. A couple of years later, in the Rainbow in LA, I met Alex Van Halens estranged wife, and that, as they say, is another story all together.

Crystal

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #brian may #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

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teumeku · 3 years

Text

bang yedam x reader

yedam was born to love you

the first time you met, it was by the lake. an oddly heart-shaped lake with forget-me-not flowers nestled around it.

you stood by the lake, smiling happily as you felt a cool breeze lift your hair in a gentle wave. a small basket rested loosely on your arm, half full of the blue forget-me-nots that surrounded the lake. brushing your hair out of your face, you huffed, looking down at your basket helplessly.

your eyes flitted around the lake, all over the plants, to find one that you hadn't picked flowers from so that you didn't strip a plant of all of its flowers. your eyes wandered over to a couple of plants bunched together on the other side of the lake but your face fell when you noticed that a boy was already sitting there. (how you hadn't noticed him, you never figure out)

however, those were probably the only plants you hadn't picked flowers from and you huffed, mustering up the courage to walk over to him. "excuse me, do you mind if i picked some of these flowers too?" the boy looked up as you spoke and you, being shy, avoided his gaze.

he shook his head with a small smile, "of course not, go ahead."

you crouched down, a distance away from the boy, fingers carefully picking the first flower from this new plant. the two of you sat in silence for what seemed to be the next half-hour, simply plucking the little blue flowers until he got up, bidding you an awkward and quiet goodbye, which you returned shyly. (you might have caught him looking back at you a couple of times as he walked away, turning around quickly when you looked up but you couldn't blame him– you couldn't keep your eyes off him either)

the first time he told you he loved you was when you made him a flower crown.

"you made this? for me?" yedam stammered as you held out the little blue flower crown.

you nodded excitedly and he smiled shyly, taking the crown from your hands and placing it on his own head, "how do i look?"

"amazing! it looks amazing on you!" you exclaimed, adjusting the crown on his head so that it didn't fall off. he smiled happily, watching you fuss over him, straightening the crown, and brushing strands of his hair from his face and as he watched you, he felt his heart hammer against his chest, gathering the courage to say what he had long wanted to say.

he opened his mouth but closed it again, too scared to say anything. but as your gaze left the heart-shaped lake in front of you and wandered over to him, he knew that the grin on his face told you everything– he loved you.

the second time you met, it was in the palace. you, the admired royal, and yedam, the visiting, esteemed musician.

you looked curiously at the boy playing the violin– you'd never seen him before and, yet, it felt like you already knew him. he was wearing a blue suit, a delicate shade of forget-me-not blue that suited him perfectly, eyes closed as if he was lost in the music.

you turned to your mother, who was sitting next to you, also watching the orchestra at large and you nudged her gently– an action she had long since given up on telling you off for (it was not royal-like, she said). "mother, who's that?" you gestured towards the front and foremost violin player, the boy in blue.

"you've noticed him, have you? that's yedam, the violin player your father told you about last week. he's from another kingdom but he's visiting on our invitation– the king of his kingdom has told your father so much about yedam's musical talent and we couldn't resist inviting him," your mother explained, but you had stopped listening after she said his name.

yedam. you thought you'd heard his name before, but you didn't know where. and you certainly didn't know why you thought he'd look perfect with a flower crown. you couldn't get his name out of your head, wondering just why oh why a stranger seemed so familiar but you were snapped out of your haze when you felt as if someone was watching you.

you looked back at the orchestra, at yedam and you found that he was already looking at you, his face mirroring the same confused feeling you felt.

the second time he told you he loved you was when he left your kingdom, rolling away in a carriage, rolling away from you.

you smiled sadly at the boy in front of you, leaning back on the carriage that was meant to take him home, "i don't want you to go..."

over the past few months he'd been here, you'd grown more than fond of yedam, coming to enjoy his company much more than you'd ever enjoyed anyone else's. his hand tightened around yours, "i don't want to go either but i have to. it's only right that i honor the end of my invitation."

"will you ever come back? to the palace? to me?" you mumbled, feeling tears sting your eyes.

"i don't know... perhaps one day, i will be back. but until then, i cannot promise anything, i'm sorry," he whispered, fingers nimbly wiping away your tears.

he looked back at the carriage and you sighed, "it's okay, i didn't expect you to promise... you should, you know, go now. i expect your parents are waiting for you, go home to them."

he nodded sadly, climbing into the carriage and looking back at you, he said, "i'll miss you." you tried your best to give him a smile, "i'll miss you too."

the carriage began to move as you uttered the words and you watched his carriage roll over the hill. you saw him stick out his head, looking back at you, waving. he hesitated before he shouted back, "i love you!" and you, in your disoriented state, waved back until his carriage disappeared from your sight, to which you whispered quietly, "i love you too." and you never saw him again. (you think his face fell when you didn't say anything back and you couldn't help but feel guilty whenever you thought of it)

the third time you met, it was at a flower shop. it was his first day on the job and you just happened to wander along.

to say that it was a rainy day was an understatement. it was simply pouring outside and you, having not had the sense to check the weather before leaving your apartment, were now standing in a small flower shop, soaking wet and drenched in rainwater. you couldn't quite believe your luck, most shop owners or employees wouldn't want someone in their store dripping from head to toe in water but the boy now standing behind the counter was unbelievably nice.

having seen you trudge through the rain, he'd kindly stuck his head out of his flower shop door and offered you refuge in it. longing for some sort of warmth, you'd accepted his offer almost immediately after weighing your (minimal) options.

apologising profusely, you followed him into the flower shop attempting to dry yourself off before entering but as it was still raining, your efforts failed. looking back over his shoulder, though, he'd chuckled awkwardly and disappeared into a side room before appearing seconds later, handing you a dry towel, "i know the towel's not that big but..." his voice trailed off as you took the towel.

"no, no, it's fine. you helping me out of the rain was already good enough, thank you. and don't worry, i can help you mop up." you smiled at him, patting your hair with the towel to dry it.

he shrugged, "nah, don't worry about it, just keep warm." you looked at him, confusion written across your face, "but... won't the owner be mad? or– that's only if you're not the owner." you stopped yourself before you embarrassed yourself further.

he shook his head, laughing a little, "my mom's the owner, she won't mind."

"oh..." your voice trailed off as your eyes wandered around the shop, "do you mind if i, uhm, look around?"

"of course not, go ahead," he nodded, moving back to the counter awkwardly, "i'll just, uh, be here."

you looked around the little shop, eyes ranging over the many flower arrangements until they fell upon a certain blue bouquet. they looked familiar– not just the flowers, but the arrangement as well and you looked back at the boy, "what flowers are these?"

he looked up, "oh, those are forget-me-nots! they're my favorite flowers– have been since i was little."

"ah, i see," you paused for a fraction of a second as you surveyed the flowers and then you looked back at him once again. something fell into place in your mind and your heart leapt, for reasons unbeknownst to you. but it almost felt like your heart recognised the flowers, and recognised him.

the third time he told you he loved you was in his room, in the middle of the night, 5 months after your meeting in the flower shop.

you were panting, having raced to yedam's apartment at nearly midnight after he called you, frantically asking you to come over. the door opened and you half expected to see him in a state of dishevelment yet when you saw him, he was looking as normal as ever, wrapped up in a comfortable-looking hoodie. you opened your mouth to scold him for sending you into a state of panic but he spoke before you said anything, "i'm sorry for making you come over but i just finished a song and i wanted you to listen to it and... yeah."

you smiled incredulously, rolling your eyes playfully but you said nothing, just letting him lead you to his room. "here, put these on," he handed you his headphones, the ones you had seen him wear on multiple occasions whenever he was working on a new song.

you took them from him, putting them over your ears as yedam clicked the play button on his computer and the song started playing. it was a beautiful song– not only the music but his voice, as well. there was no way to explain how much you liked it and as it came to an end, you took off the headphones, looking at him, "yedam, that was... beautiful."

"is it?" he smiled sheepishly, "i guess it should be because, you know, i wrote it about... you."

you felt your cheeks heat up and you shyly avoided his gaze, even though you knew he was watching you, "what is it called?"

"born to love you."

the fourth time you met, it was at school. or, you didn't meet him. only saw him, and he only saw you. but that's good enough.

it was the first day of school, back in this familiar, old school with it's blue walls, a bright forget-me-not shade. but however familiar the school was to you, whatever hallway you were currently walking in was not. first period hadn't started yet, but you'd begun your trek to class early solely for the reason of... you don't know where your classroom even is.

finally, after having popped your head into multiple classrooms, asking teachers for directions to the class, you came to stand in front of classroom 057. you peered into the class, to scope it out– it was brighter than the hallway, which was dull, with its lights flickering miserably. the teacher wasn't in yet, or perhaps had left the classroom for a little bit, and the classroom was empty except for the boy sitting in a desk on the other side of the classroom.

he was hunched over a book and in any case seemed much too preoccupied to notice you but he looked up as you entered the class. he looked vaguely familiar as your eyes met but his gaze flickered back down to his book in an instant, his hair falling to cover the side of his face from your view.

you shrugged it off, picking a seat in the back of the classroom as the bell rang. yet, as the rest of the students filed into the classroom, you found your eyes flit back to the boy and for a quick second, you could have sworn you saw him look back at you as well.

today, yedam arrived at school earlier than normal, took a deep breath, and left a present for you on your desk.

you paused as you approached your desk, noticing a neat envelope laying on the surface of your familiar desk. you eyed it warily, not knowing who had left it yet you found yourself too curious to stop yourself from picking it up. you carefully opened it, peeling the flap up so you could see what was inside it.

you noticed the blue flower first and you gently took it out from the envelope. it was a fully bloomed forget-me-not flower. something stirred in your thoughts, a blurry image of a heart shaped lake taking over the front of your mind. you shook it off, not knowing what to think. instead, you peered into the envelope again. there was a letter inside and you slid it out, unfolding it as you did so. you began to read it, eyes moving quickly over the words in ink, barely breathing.

"dear (reader), you don't know me. i think. well, we met recently, on the first day of school but i don't know if you remember me– from before, i mean. in fact, i'm not even sure if writing this letter to you is a good idea. or maybe writing it is good, leaving it for you to read might not be. but if you're reading this now, i guess it's too late to take it back, right? i just hope you don't think i'm weird– though, if you do, i'd understand why. but, anyway, as you can see, i'm not sure of that many things in this world. i don't think i ever have been. but when i met you on the first day of school, i was finally sure of one thing. you see, i think i was born to love you. (p.s. i picked the forget-me-not from my garden, in hopes that it would remind you of me.)"

you let out a sigh that you didn't know you'd been holding in. you turned over the letter, in search of a signature from the writer but to no avail. instead, you gently picked up the blue flower, touching one of the soft petals and you felt something deep in your heart, eyes widening as you remembered everything. the heart shaped lake, the forget-me-not flowers, the palace, the shop. his smile, his face, his voice, his touch, him. you remembered yedam.

—

hihi (´• ω •`)ﾉ i’m back after like... a month with a longer scenario !! and it’s my first non bullet pointed scenario !! and if it was confusing, it's about ur past lives with yedam and ur current life with him. i don't know if it's weird though (╥﹏╥) obviously, this is based on... yedam’s song from t-map ep. 46 because it’s a masterpiece and i wanted to try and write a masterpiece... that part didn’t work out very well but it’s okay! i hope you like it !! [p.s. i don’t know anything about where forget-me-not flowers grow... pretend they can grow near a lake. and i don't know when guitars were invented so bare with me here].

#yedam scenarios #yedam fluff #bang yedam #treasure yg #treasure #treasure kpop #choi hyunsuk #park jihoon #kanemoto yoshinori #kim junkyu #takata mashiho #yoon jaehyuk #hamada asahi #kim doyoung #watanabe haruto #park jeongwoo #so junghwan #treasure fluff #treasure scenarios

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passable-talent · 4 years

Note

May I perhaps request a part 8 for the dai li series? I'm very very hype for what's to come for the finale!

should’ve figured this would happen within 20 min

ya boi returns after a week of classes with significantly better mental health! not enough to make me think I’ll be here more often than I have, but enough to give me the passion i need to f u c k i n g d e l i v e r

and now...

THE MOMENT YOUVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

The day of Sozin’s Comet.

The comet tore its way across the sky behind Appa, vaporizing clouds and turning the sky blood red, as though it knew the terror and destruction it was meant to bring. Seated in Appa’s saddle behind Katara and Zuko, you looked over his tail at it, its brightness in the sky that rivaled the sun. You wondered when it would behind to effect firebenders- you wondered if Zuko could already feel it.

“Zuko, don’t worry,” said Katara, catching the anxiety you had noticed slipping off of him like waves. “We can take Azula.”

“I’m not worried about her,” Zuko said, “I’m worried about Aang. What if he doesn’t have the guts to take out my father?” You made brief eye contact with Katara before moving forward, getting closer to the conversation.

“What if he loses?” Zuko’s voice was clear in its trepidation.

“Aang won’t lose,” Karata said, confidence in her tone. “He’s gonna come back. He has to.” You put your hand on her shoulder, settling down on your knees between the two of them.

“Of course he will,” you said, looking over your shoulder once again at the comet. “He wouldn’t let us face Ozai without him.” Zuko caught his reaction before it made its way to his face, controlling it. But all the same, he had to wonder- had he even told you his father’s name? And referring to him as ‘Ozai’, rather than ‘the Firelord’- a disrespect that even some of the others of the team hadn’t done.

None of the three of you wore armor. What would metal do against fire, anyway? You wore the uniform of a Dai Li student, or what had once been. Its long, loose sleeves had been ripped at your biceps and the baggy pants ripped just below your knees, so that all that was left to be recognized was the symbol of Ba Sing Se on your chest, and the gold trim as it hung at your waist. If you were going to win the war, today, you’d do it for your home city.

You didn’t wear shoes.

“There’s the palace,” Katara said, leaning forward to get as good a look at the courtyard as she could. “It’s almost empty.”

“Except for Azula,” you said, narrowing your eyes as though that would help you see. “And those guys.”

“Those are the Fire Sages. Everyone else is either with the fleet or at home, waiting for the victory,” Zuko said, his normal brand of anger yet nonchalance gracing his voice. Drawing closer, the words of the Fire Sages drifted up to where you could hear them, high on Appa’s back.

“By decree of Phoenix King Ozai, I now crown you Firelord-” he hands swung down to place the crown in Azula’s hair, but he paused, noticing Appa beside one of the towers. Appa bellowed as he approached, and Azula’s words were lost beneath the sound. Appa landed at the steps of the palace, and Zuko stood.

“Sorry, but you’re not going to become Firelord today.” He leapt down, leaving you and Katara on the saddle. “I am.” Azula’s laugh ground on your ears, shivering you to the bone. She looked... unkempt.

“You’re hilarious.” Katara approached Zuko’s side, and you flanked his other.

“And you’re going down,” she levied against Azula, and you couldn’t help but find a smile sliding to your face. Azula has had this coming, just like you said to Iroh only hours ago. You were happy that you got to be a part of the force that took her down, after all the pain she had brought into your life. She was a monster.

“Wait,” Azula said, stopping the head sage from placing the headpiece on her, “You want to be Firelord?” She stood, and walked toward the edge of the stairs. You didn’t like standing beneath her. “Fine. Let’s settle this. Just you and me, brother.” She spat the word with contempt that you wanted to wipe right off of her face. “The showdown that was always meant to be- Agni Kai!”

“You’re on,” Zuko growled before you could even react. You turned your head, noticing Katara had done the same.

“Zuko-” you said, concern in your voice. You’d come all this way to help, and Katara had too, and now he was going to take her on without you?

“What are you doing? She’s playing you,” Katara said, narrowing her eyes. “She knows she can’t take all three of us, so she’s trying to separate us.” You wanted to reach out and take his hand, as though to pull him toward reason, but something held you back. You stole a glance at Azula, and the sick, gloating smile on her face.

“I know,” Zuko said, and your eyes widened slightly, surprised that he knew the trap but still walked into it. “But I can take her this time.”

“But even you admitted to your uncle that you would need help facing Azula.”

“Zuko, that’s why we’re here for you,” you added, finally breaking your gaze from the princess.

“There’s something off about her,” he said, “I can’t explain it, but she’s slipping.” It was like you could feel her gaze on the side of your head as you looked at her brother, like you could feel her weighing her decisions, like she did back in Ba Sing Se, when she manipulated you and Zuko both. It made you shiver.

“And this way,” Zuko said, reaching out and taking your hand while he looked at Katara, “no one else has to get hurt.” You squeezed his hand, tightly, before letting go and circling him to Katara’s side. The courtyard before the steps of the palace were cleared, and the two siblings took up positions facing away from each other. You stood with Katara, not far from Zuko. It may have been against the rules, but still you wanted to stand by, in case you needed to interfere and help him. You were sure Katara felt the same way.

Slowly, the siblings stood, what felt like miles separating them.

“I’m sorry it has to end this way, brother,” Azula said in a near snarl, slicking her robe from her shoulders and discarding it to the ground. Zuko stood steadfast in his ready stance, calm.

“No you’re not.”

Azula took up her ready stance, and before you knew it, the battle had begun.

Until this moment, you hadn’t seen firebending under the influence of Sozin’s Comet. You understood the effect it was supposed to have had, but the pure size of the awful flames was something you could never have predicted, nor truly understood, if it weren’t for this moment, this amazing and intense shot of flame Azula conjured, her blue contrasting the sky and sun of dark red, and Zuko’s return, his bright yellows and oranges filling your vision and blocking Azula. The impact of the powers of the siblings created a wall that bisected the entirety of the palace grounds, and the heat and wind pushed your hair from your face.

From the fading wall burst Azula’s fire, four waves of flame accompanying her movements, and as Zuko split and deflected each one, you kept your eye on him. His footwork. His stance. He had learned from Aang, just a bit- don’t go straight to the attack. Weave with your partner. He had absolute control, but still your fists flexed, making the ground roll beneath your exposed toes. Your feet were firmly planted to the ground, so even when you blinked, you could follow the fight.

The two traded blows, their deflected flames launching up and out of the courtyard, coloring the clouds. Azula’s misfires tore through homes and set rooftops ablaze. Zuko’s blast toward her was matched, and as he adjusted his position it moved past him, a wall of cyan sliding past a wall of amber. Planting a foot to the floor, you rocked your fist up, a wall erupting from the stone floor to split Azula’s blaze in front of you and Katara. For the moment, you huddled together, watching as the fire circled you like a predator before disappearing. Quickly, you shot it down into its place, and once again took your eyes to the battle. The front of the palace was ablaze, and in a rage, Azula leapt toward Zuko, raining down on top of him what looked like a whip of fire. Planting his stance, he split it, a pathway opening straight from him to his sister. You recognized that move- Toph had taught it to you.

Azula was on one knee, collecting herself, and from far away it looked like she was breathing hard. Zuko, on the other hand, stood strong, and steady. He moved toward her two interwoven streams of flame that roared and grew as they moved, which she slid out from beside. You couldn’t look away, even as tears fought to moisten your eyes from their onslaught of heat. Azula gave him a sloppy attack, and so he did what you could only describe as ascending, rising on a pillar of fire until he could swing an arc at her as he fell back down, splitting her next offense.

She swung around him, weaving, and he stood his ground, protecting himself. But he sensed the weakness that you could not see- as long as she was sliding on her flames, as long as she wasn’t connected to the ground, he could break her root. He sent a wave of flame in all directions that broke up her fire, and sent her crashing to the ground.

She collected herself up, her hair fallen from its updo, fluttering around her and into her eyes. She had a madness in those eyes, a bloodthirst, but her stance was weak and her back hunched, like something was giving out beneath her.

“No lightning today?” You heard Zuko taunt. “What’s’a matter? Afraid I’ll redirect it?” He brought himself into an offensive stance, and, sensing danger, Katara ran closer. You followed, remembering your last run-in with Azula’s lightning. The night Aang died.

“Oh, I’ll show you lightning!” Azula snarled, and, following your instincts, you pushed Katara behind you. Rock would fare better against lightning than water.

With movements to her right, then her left, Azula collected her lightning, thunder echoing off of walls and mountainsides and clouds all around you. Through the earth you felt as Zuko took a deep breath, his heartbeat calm, but your eyes remained on the princess.

She gathered her two fingers to her chest, readying to fire. But then, you saw her eyes land on you.

Sometimes, a person sees a million moments pass in less than one.

You saw her stance pivot to you, and her arm extend toward you and Katara. But she wasn’t targeting Katara- she knew what you were, and what you had become. You had become a weakness, not in yourself, but in Zuko, and she had seen it in the way you looked at him in Ba Sing Se, and she had seen it in the way he had reached for your hand at the steps of the palace. You had endangered Katara, and so with the world moving by at the pace of a million moments in less than one, you launched forward to plant both feet, sweeping your arms from your sides and in, up, and from the tiles began to rise a wall.

And you saw, at a pace of a million moments in less than one, the way that Zuko ran between you and the lightning, the blue of it drowning out any other color. The strength in your arms faded, and the wall in front of you, meant to protect you and Katara, vaporized to sand, and crumbled back to the ground. Zuko absorbed the lightning, and shot it out above the walls of the volcano.

There he was left, then, trembling.

“Zuko!” you shouted, and Katara the same, both of you meaning to run toward him. But Azula reminded you that she was still a threat by slamming the ground in front of you with lightning, and you snapped your gaze to her.

Once, in a cavern deep beneath a palace in Ba Sing Se, Azula had come between you and Zuko. And that day, you’d been too scared- you were a kid who had never seen war. You weren’t ready to attack, and if you were, maybe that day would’ve changed how the war played out. Once, in a cavern deep beneath a palace in Ba Sing Se, you’d failed to keep Zuko from his sister.

It wouldn’t happen again.

You let out a scream and lifted a dozen boulders from the tiled ground, launching them at the princess, each in turn. Her laughter grated against your skin and you’d never moved with such rage in your bones before, the strain on your joints nothing compared to your heartbreak. Your hair and clothes whipped around you, put to the test by the speed with which you were moving. And yet, Azula alluded you.

“Y/N!” Katara called, and you wisened up for just long enough to realize that she was all too used to fighting off a rage-fueled attacker. You weren’t going to win this way, and now, winning was up to Katara and you. One more shot you pressed toward her, and using that as a distraction, you knocked her from her path with a stone launched from just beside her. It gave you enough time to slip with Katara from the battlefield into the awning-filled pavilions nearby.

You could barely keep your legs from turning you back to where Zuko still lay.

Azula brought her fire down from behind the pavilion where you and Katara had taken shelter, and so she chased you out, back toward the open yard. Katara made a break for Zuko, covering her hand in water so she could heal him, and as you ran, you threw your open hands down toward the ground, walls slicing up beside him, hopefully to keep him safe. But your path was interrupted by Azula’s flame, her laughter rocking your core as she conjured lightning, and so you shot back a boulder to divert her long enough for you and Katara to put just a bit more distance between you and her.

Still, her lightning caught up to you, and the explosion sent you both flying. Katara rolled, and you brought up a platform to land on properly. Azula landed on a nearby rooftop, giddy smiles on her face.

“I’d really rather our family physician look after little Zu-zu, if you don’t mind!” Her voice gave you pause, even as you launched to the side to avoid her lightning. What, really, was she doing, attacking her own brother? What had brought her to being the bloodthirsty murderer she was so prepared to become?

More flame chased Katara as she joined you behind a pillar, and you stomped your heel to the floor to raise even another wall between you and where Azula had just been.

“Zu-zu, you don’t look so good!” Azula snarled, and with her scream sent another bolt of lightning to Katara, the crack of thunder nearly deafening you as it split you from her, sending you in opposite directions.

After all that, though, when choosing who Azula would go after, who Azula would see as a threat, it wasn’t you. She went for Katara, and after a moment, you realized her goal- Katara was the only one, now, who could save Zuko’s life. And so you slipped to the side, running between columns, one eye on Azula and the other on Zuko. Katara froze both her and the princess in place, and immediately you knew who would come out the winner. You bolted to Zuko’s side, your feet carrying you shakily, until you crashed to your knees beside him. You lowered the walls you’d put up around him and rolled him to his back, finally laying eyes on the deep, raw wound on his stomach.

“Stay still,” you ordered him, extending one foot out to ground yourself, and you punched the tile in order to raise up a platform underneath him, where Katara could hope to work better. Shaking hands extended toward his face, and those tears that once tried to protect your eyes from the heat now tried to protect them from something far, far worse- the pain in Zuko’s expression.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you promised him, even as he flinched and groaned, even as your voice shook, even as you slowly cupped his face. The sound of a crash of water made you look over your shoulder, and the sight you found was relieving- Katara chaining Azula to the ground.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you promised again, your voice shaking even as this time, you knew you weren’t lying. Katara was there only a moment later, water already coating her hands, ready to press it down into his wound. It began to glow, and you watched as Zuko’s face first flexed with more pain, then relaxed. A tearful smile crossed your face and a small sob escaped your lungs, and he looked first to you, then to Katara.

“Thank you, Katara,” he said, taking a deep breath, and settling his muscles down onto the stone beneath him.

Azula had been defeated. Zuko was to be Firelord. For the moment, the world was triumphant, and you saw him smile. You’d waited a thousand moments for this one, right here, when everything was okay, and when he was safe.

You’d waited a thousand moments, but in this one, you couldn’t remember the ones where he’d hurt you, where you’d hated him. You couldn’t remember the ones filled with pain, and anger, the ones in which you walked away from him in anger, or threw up a wall between the two of you, or yelled at him. You couldn’t remember the ones in which he hadn’t done what you’d needed him to, or in which you had kept yourself at arms length.

All you could remember where the moments that truly brought you to this one, right here.

Finally, you leaned down, and you kissed him.

Your fingers slid into his hair at the back of his head, and cupped his head away from the hard stone beneath him. Your eyes closed, all you could do was feel, your instep pressed to the ground beneath you, your lips pressing against his. And you didn’t want him to move, to push himself, but he did cup your face, letting his fingertips feel into your scalp, as your hair fell down past your cheekbones.

When you parted, for a moment, you couldn’t do anything but stare.

“I love you,” you said, and a smile pulled at his lips.

“I love you, too.”

You brought your legs to your side to help him sit up, and then stand, one of your arms around his waist. Seemingly overwhelmed by her brother’s total victory, Azula truly fell, tears and screams leaving her while she flailed and spit fire. Finally, as you stood in front of her, in her truest, basest form, you recognized what you had never, any time you’d faced her.

She was never in control. She was just scared, and finally, she’d been beaten, just like she always feared.

Katara looked away. You couldn’t bring yourself to.

~~~

As you took Zuko into the palace to rest, Katara traversed the palace city, putting out fires. It would take work, but the city would be inhabitable again, once Zuko took the throne. He had a lot of recovering to do, but by the time the world had gathered for his coronation, he was well enough to walk on his own, and to kneel to receive the crown. Still, though, he had trouble reaching behind himself to put on his robes.

Luckily, you were always there to help him.

“So I suppose, after all this, you’re going to go home,” he said as you lifted his clothing to his shoulders.

“Hmm?”

“Back to Ba Sing Se. I know you miss it.” A small smile graced your lips, but you shook your head as you smoothed the wrinkles across his shoulders.

“I do. I miss the city, but it hasn’t been my home. Not for a long time.” You circled around Zuko to take his hand just beside him, regarding him with a warm expression, warmth toward him that you could only match with a few moments before.

“I thought I made it clear that this- right here-” you lifted his hand, interlocked with yours, up to his sight. “-This is my home.” He brought your hand down so that he could lean into a kiss, and you could enjoy it only for a moment before you had to pull away.

“I’ve got to go,” you said, a bright smile on your face. “Toph saved my seat, and Aang is waiting for you!” You rushed to the door, a small exit that wouldn’t be noticed by the crowd gathered out front, but you paused. “Good luck,” you said, giving him an honest and traditional Fire Nation bow.

“Your Highness.”

-🦌 Roe

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lilyharvord · 3 years

Text

Until the End

Summary:

I've been thinking about the entire Harbor Bay arc in War Storm for weeks now, and decided that there absolutely was a missing scene. So here it is, exactly what I think comes after that little fade to black when Mare slips into the room and Evangeline drops her off like a parent leaving their child for kindergarten. :)))

Notes:

I feel terrible that it's taking me soooo damn long to get the next chapter of the chain done. So I pulled this out from my drafts folder since it was 99% finished and gifted it to you all. It's unedited because of that, but consider it a little something something to apologize for taking so long with chapter 14 of the Chain.

Also if you could give it a little love on AO3 too I’d appreciate it ((: Link

Choosing not to choose.

She almost laughs at the words. Only he would say something so evasive and politic. It’s his style to avoid the truth at all costs, pretend they are anyone other than who they are. As if choice is a luxury they are not privy to, as if he did not make a choice weeks ago that tore her heart from her chest.

Even now, the memory cuts her to the bone. The brush of his hand along her neck, and the trail of his fingers through her hair eases the ache, reminding her why she even followed Evangeline to this room in the first place. He never judged her, never held her own choices against her. It makes it easy to always fall back against him. He is always a safe harbor she can find refuge in, a means of hiding from the truth they both are dancing around in this moment.

In the light, he still looks pale and drawn. He doesn’t wear his exhaustion as aesthetically as Maven. His makes him rugged, cracking the façade he wears like the crown on his head. That monstrosity is nowhere to be seen now, and without it in the picture she can almost forget that he chose that over her. Over her brother’s life and everything Shade had stood for.

Even with all that mounted against him, the sight of him still burns a fire in her stomach, and turns her innards molten. Every brush of his fingers along her skin drives her a little closer to the brink. The rest of the armor needs to go, and so does the thin undershirt. After seeing his skin grey on the sand, she wants to tear every last barrier down, just so she can rest a hand above his heart and feel it’s reassuring beat. Whether or not he lets her is another matter.

Mare Barrow has always been a thief though, so when she claims his mouth with hers, it is a stolen moment, pickpocketed along with the breath he exhales.

He doesn’t stop her. His hands trail along her back until they find her hips, and with a decisive tug, he pulls her flush against his body. Be rough, she almost whispers, grab on until I bruise, bite my lip, bruise it, squeeze me into one piece so I can feel whole again. She knows he’s strong enough to do it, that when he really wants to, he can show her just how much he loves her.

Knotting a hand in his hair, she pulls to lift herself up an inch more, keeping the kiss as her teeth catch his lip. Underneath her palm she imagine his heart pounds as he finally grabs fistfuls of her shirt and digs his fingers into her skin.

Panting he grabs her face instead, and immediately her hair falls out of the messy braid she threw it in. It’s a battle as much as any they’ve fought before, and she is determined to be on top in the end.

“Tell me you want this.” He pants as he cups her face, lifting it so she drowns in his eyes. Burning ore, fire made flesh, his gaze could burn her alive, but it never does. It holds her steady, warms her core until all she wants is him, the smell of him, the feeling of his hips meeting hers. All of him, she wants all of him, even the parts she loathes.

“I want you.” Mare breaths, running her fingers through his hair, shorn a little shorter than normal to correct the haircut he’d given himself. What she wouldn’t give to have it be the length it had been at the Notch. What she wouldn’t give to go back to him being that person instead of this. Closing her eyes and standing on tip toe, she rests her forehead against his. “I want Cal.”

His eyes burn, and a fluttering uncertainty crosses those lovely irises before Mare slides back down, dragging her hands along his body. The armor is beautiful and cold, a testament to what he is supposed to be. He’s never been that though, even in the times when she believed he was.

Tracing the grooves and dents left from the siege, she follows her fingers with her eyes. If she were to look up now, she would kiss him again and drown in him. With gentle hands, she finger the buckles, twisting her lips at the unnecessary complexity. “Without all of this.”

His fingers find hers, brushing along the skin of her hands. Finally, she looks up, only to meet his eye. The fire in them darkens, and with a scrape of leather the buckles come undone. The space between their bodies is so tight, for a moment, Mare wonders how he will be able to remove the thing. But he’s taken it on and off so many times, it slides over his head with ease, leaving him vulnerable before her.

The heat from his skin washes over her, finally free from the dam holding it back. His inhale is ragged when she traces his ribs. Glancing up through her lashes, Mare tilts her head to the side a fraction. “Sore?”

“They were fractured.” He murmurs in reply before dropping his lips to kiss her temple. The barely there touch and his exhales make her flutter her eyes closed. He continued to explore her face with his lips while she gently helps the gauntlets off his wrists, and removes the belt with that useless sword. He never had need for the thing, it’s all ceremonial, but it’s a pomp and circumstance that she hates.

“Want me to make them feel better?” She whispers as the belt clatters to the floor with the sword. He steps beyond it, forcing her back a half step to give him room. She almost stumbles, but his arm around his waist keeps her upright and pulled tightly to him. He captures her lips again, and becomes the thief when he inhales her gasp.

When he breaks away, his eyes are dark, the pupils so dilated they almost swallow that lovely amber. “I want you.” He repeats her words from earlier, his fingers flexing in her shirt as if he wants to tear it to pieces and is only barely holding back.

“Then have me.” Her words are an exhale against his lips as she arches against him. The last of the tension in his body melts like candlewax as he shifts his hold to put her on her feet completely. His mouth claims hers once again, and he surges forward, laying claim to her just like they did with the city beyond the balcony doors. It’s part violent passion, part regretful tactics. Her fingers knot in his hair on instinct, and for a heartbeat she can taste the salt of he bay still on his lips.

“I hate you,” She whispers to him, and earns a panicked glance. Tracing his jaw with a finger, she observes the lines of his face, imagining what he might look like years from now if they even live that long. “But I love you all the same too.” He will only become more handsome as he ages, Mare decides. At least Evangeline will have something pretty to look at.

His face falls, and the next kiss he gives her is a half apology. It lingers, and he pours every emotion in it. She catches the after taste of his regret as he pulls away to cup her face and caress her cheeks with his thumbs. His eyes slide closed as he rests his forehead on hers. Maybe he thinks he can hold this moment forever, polish it like a coin to store for when she is long gone. If it wasn’t obvious already, when this is finished, she will vanish and be nothing more than a fever dream for him to wake gasping from some day. For a heartbeat, her own regret over saying anything at all mixes with his.

“I’m—”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off before he can say anything else. Cradling his hands with hers, she leans into his touch, closing her eyes. If she does that she can imagine they are back in Piedmont in his bunk room or in the glen. “We both know the truth.”

When she opens her eyes, his expression is neutral. But she’s known him long enough to see the emotions hidden behind the curtain. Dropping his forehead to rest it against hers, he exhales slowly.

“Then I won’t. But I never lied to you. I want you more than anything in this world… and I—I love you Mare.”

“Please don’t.” She pleads with him, treading a hand through his hair, and tugging so that he opens his eyes again. “Please.” She breathes the word this time, and he swallows. Her heart aches in her chest, even as it relaxes in his grip.

His hands fall from her face to her shoulders and then her hips. She turns her eyes to the ceiling painted like a sunset. Tears want to gather, tears of exhaustion after the battle, tears of relief over Kilorn, tears of regret that she’s here and not there with him, tears of anger that she still loves this man after what he did, and tears of true misery that he is the one that lit the match and burned the bridge between them.

His hands squeeze her hips, and she finally drops her chin only to watch him sink to his knees before her. He looks up at her reverently as his hands cup the back of her legs to keep her from running. Looking down at him, she can see the light cutting across his face differently. He’s still so young, and so is she. Can she really fault him for the decision he made? He’s only ever known one path for his life, and so has she. Can he fault her for hers? Can she really hate him for choosing what he knows and understands?

The words clog her throat, choking her. Yes, she can, and she can’t. He’s been brave before, even in the face of true fear. He could have trusted her, been brave enough to stay by her side and trust Farley and Dane. He made his choice, and right now they are dancing around that choice.

“I will only ever love you, for the rest of my life.” He whispers before resting his forehead against her stomach and pressing his lips to the tiny bit of skin he exposed on her hip. She stands frozen with the weight of his admission. The tension in her body is unmistakable, the hitch in her breath impossible to hide. But then she melts against him, and a single tear manages to escape as she closes her eyes. Knotting her fingers in his hair, she curls around him, lets him press delicate kisses against her skin; each one like a delicate flower blooming.

“Let’s—let’s pretend for a little bit. I want to pretend.” She hates her weakness, and that her knees buckle into his grip when he looks up at her again. His face falls when he sees the tears leaving trails down her cheeks. Reaching up, he wipes them away, barely brushing his skin against her own.

They remain in silence as they have always been: a future king on his knees before the Red girl that brought him to them numerous times before.

“What do you want to pretend?” He asks her.

“That there was never a choice made at all.” The words are coated in her tears, and they fall from his lips like shards of glass and honey at the same time. They burn her throat and she half regrets them.

The silence stretches, almost longer than she can stand. But then he rises slowly, bringing one of her hands up to kiss her palm and her fingers. “What choice?” He asks, playing the part and stepping into the game with her.

When she kisses him this time, it’s soft, gentler than any kiss they’ve had before. He slides a hand down and crouches just enough to lift her off the ground. Without breaking away from him, she wraps her legs around his waist, the salt of her tears mixing with their kiss.

He carries her to the bed like she weighs nothing, and with careful movements, he lays her down among the silk and sheets. With her eyes closed, Mare can pretend, she can imaging there was no choice, that they are simply two people in the world that found relief with each other. Squeezing his hips with her knees, she sighs as he slides on top of her, and rests his weight on her. His fingers grip her thigh and he squeezes as he rocks against her tentatively, testing the pace and the timing.

“Tell me you love me.” She breathes between kisses, and runs her fingers up along his sides, counting his ribs and sliding her knuckles into the contours of his back.

“I love you.” He whispers, pressing a kiss against her lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.” Another kiss against her collarbone.

“Again.”

“I love you.” His hand slides under her shirt and lifts it to her neck so he can kiss her sternum.

“Once more.”

“I love you.” She drops her arms above her head so he can remove her shirt effortlessly and slide down to press a kiss against her stomach. Slipping her hands underneath the collar of his shirt next, she trails her fingers along his burning skin there. His teeth nip at the skin of her hip, before he leaves a kiss behind as an apology. Her belt goes next, and without breaking contact with her skin, he slides her pants off. His lips trail her thigh, and pause to kiss the inside of her knee as he guides them both over his shoulders.

“I love you.” He breaths against the inside of her thigh, before dropping between her legs completely.

Mare exhales in a silent gasp, her nails digging into the skin behind his neck. His fingers curl around her hips as she bucks when his tongue finds the most sensitive spot she has. Holding her down, he continues, whispering those same words as he works.

By now, he’s a master of his craft with her, and she grabs his hair to pull him back up before she can finish. His eyes lock with hers, shinning in the dusk. Panting, she trails her fingers along his jaw, and then his lips, memorizing the feel of them.

His lips quirk up in the smallest of smiles before leaving one more kiss on the inside of her thigh. Resting his cheek there, he closes his eyes and says, “Say my name, just one more time.”

She’s almost spiteful, almost calls him that disgusting excuse for a name. It’s what he chose, but because it’s part of the game, and he is playing so well, she sits up and forces him to sit as well. Resting a hand against his chest, she slides onto her knees to stand above him once more. A warm breeze off the ocean cools the sweat on her back, and shifts her hair so that the strands whisper across his face. She drops a kiss between his brows, and he closes his eyes as she rests her lips there.

“Cal,” she breathes against his skin. She doesn’t even have to think about it, the name comes as natural as it always has. “Cal,” she says it again as she tilts his head up to meet her eye when he shivers at her gentle touch. He pulls her into his lap, his expression and composure crumbling.

“Mare.” He echoes her sentiment, craning to kiss her and pull her against him completely. His voice breaks on her name, like a wave on the shore. When she cups his face again, she feels the hot tears running in long trails down his face.

“Love me like you did in the glen.” She whispers against his temple. If she could go back there, she would trade anything. And in her heart of hearts, she hopes he feels the same way. Maybe he would, Evangeline seemed too confident that the events would tumble in this direction after she left Mare here. She must have seen or heard something, and if she had, there might be hope still. Smash that thought to pieces, Mare closes her eyes and banishes any other thoughts like it. Hope was a dangerous thing, her father warned her about it months ago. She understands it now. Before, she’d never had a chance to hope, now, she knows the sting of losing it.

His hands soften their grip on her hips and he shifts her to reach behind his head and pull his shirt off. Throwing it to the side, he remove the bracelets next, tossing them unceremoniously in the same direction. They clatters on the marble floor, but he ignores the sound, his eyes never leaving her face. “Thank my colors for the rain.” He says with a small smile before lifting up to his knees and kissing her again.

She laughs, the sound real and warm. It fills her chest and lights the space between them. Dropping her fingers to the buttons on his pants, she undoes them with ease, smiling against his lips the whole time. This is her last chance to turn back, to remember her vow to let them all kill each other. She made it for a reason. But in this moment, she can’t quite remember it.

“Will you love me like you did then?” He murmurs against her shoulder where he presses light kisses against the scars creeping toward her neck.

“Yes.” Her answer is immediate, dangerously so. He doesn’t’ comment though, just helps her remove his pants before lifting her up into his lap again. Straddling one of his thighs, she rolls his hips, feeling the exhale he releases along her jaw. Shifting to drag her legs open and completely straddle him, she settles against him, relaxing into his hands as they settle on her hips.

“I’m going to tell you a secret you will take to your grave.” She murmurs against his ear, and he shivers at the cadence of her voice at the same time that he nods in understanding. The truth had been bubbling up in her throat for the past few minutes. In this position, she can actually admit it without it feeling like stabbing a knife in everyone else’s backs.

Resting her lips against the curve of his ear, she exhales softly before whispering it to him. “I haven’t stopped loving you, and that is the hardest part of all of this.”

The breath he’d held released in a sharp exhale that pained even her heart. Shifting, she rolls her hips one more time, before guiding one of his hands to her chest. Immediately his thumb began to rub slow circles on her skin, tightening the radius until she groaned softly.

Without a word, he lifted her hips just enough to guide her. Even as she sank down, and whimpered his name, he didn’t reply to her words. They both knew there was nothing else to say, nothing could change what had happened. For a short while though, they could pretend, simply exist as whatever they wanted to be. They could have everything they wanted, walk two paths at the same time and still be within reach of the other.

This was so much gentler than any time before. The glen had been different, a frenzy of movement and passion spurred on by the storm raging over head. The bunk room had been different, with its tight quarters and stifling humid heat. Then they had felt like they were running out of time. This place though, this moment, existed somewhere else. It could last for eternity or it could last for a few minutes. And every movement, every touch cemented that fact.

His hands continues to trail along her skin, his fingers digging into the skin of her back at the same time that hers pressed into his shoulders. She squeezed her thighs around his hips when he found the right tempo and angle, her breath catching for a moment as she closes her eyes and lets her lips trail along his temple.

With a sigh, and a whisper of the silk sheets, he lays her down among the blankets again. She let him with relief, let him control the pace and the tempo of the gentle rocking. She didn’t dig her nails in like she used too, or rush him, or demand to be in control by flipping over to be on top. He practically worshiped her though, laying kisses all over her skin, and running his hands along every inch he could find.

“As long as we’re telling secrets,” he whispers against her jaw finally, never losing pace. “Let me tell you one.”

Panting weakly as her insides tighten and she begins to approach her climax, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back to expose her throat to him. He immediately rests a kiss against the spot where her pulse pounds. He dragged his lips up to her ear and squeezing one of her hips so tightly she half expects to bruise right that second, he whispers, “I regret it, every second I am apart from you. Every time I look at you, I want to take it back.”

Her back arches and she whines as he thrusts just a little deeper and tugs on her earlobe with his teeth. “I still want you. Every second of every day. I want you so badly it aches, Mare.” He pants against her temple, his jaw tightening so the words almost don’t escape.

She feels his muscles tighten in his shoulders as he shudders against her, at the same time that she gasps and finally digs her nails into his skin to anchor herself. They lay panting for a moment, and she took that eternally long moment to just listen and revel in his heartbeat. Tears burn down her cheeks again, painting her lips with salt. She almost lost him on that beach today. As she stood there praying and bargaining with whatever gods may still listen, she realized a horrible truth. She couldn’t lose him. Everything she had done, from demanding he be spared at the end, to rushing from New Town to Harbor Bay had been because of this indescribable truth. In a strange way, he completed her. Complimented her and matched her. She didn’t believe in soul mates, and she still didn’t. But this, this went beyond that, beyond the universe and everything it contained. She could not lose him, and that is why, she knows when the times comes to leave him completely, it will destroy her.

It’s a mutual, silent agreement when he pulls away and falls among the blankets. Without a thought, she rolls, putting her back to him at the same time that he bands his arm around her waist. His heart pounds against her shoulder blade, and she lets the most simple sound in the world lull her to sleep as his pulse slows.

“Stay with me, until the end?” He whispers against her shoulder, when the sun has finally kissed the horizon and the shadows have stretched over the bed. She slides her hand along his forearm to interlace their fingers. For a moment, she debates breaking the rules of their little game, ruining the mirage. Instead, she brings his hand up to kiss it.

“Until the very end.”

#red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #marecal #THE eternal ship #i've just been thinking about this moment alog #and I wrote this a while back #consider it an appetizer before the main course #((:#a little light angst and smut #my writing #my fanfics #enjoy everyone

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noladyme · 3 years

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La Cuervo - Chapter 3

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

Bishop was standing outside the clubhouse, smoking a cigarette, when they rolled in. Nina got off the bike, feeling strangely like a teenager caught breaking curfew. She nodded at the president, and was about to move towards the trailer, when Angel grabbed her hand, and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for… last night”, he said. “You too”, Nina said. He gave her a crooked smile, and was about to say something else, when Bishop called out for him. “Angel… Inside. We need to talk”. Angel nodded. “Daddy’s angry”, he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Yeah”, she replied, and Angel walked off.

“Yo, sweetheart!”, Bishop called after her, as she once again moved towards the trailer. Nina sighed, and turned to look at him. “I made a promise to Chibs. When you pull a stunt like this, you make it really fucking hard to keep that promise”. Angel halted behind his president, a confused look on his face. “I didn’t leave without a patch”, Nina replied. “Followed your rules”. Bishop narrowed his eyes at her. “His patch ain’t the one you should be worried about…”. Nina swallowed hard, and nodded; though slightly confused at his words. “Ok. Sorry”. Bishop’s expression softened. “Look, just… be careful, ok?”. Nina nodded, and he smirked slightly. “You know, you’re lucky I make him get tested every two weeks”. Angel frowned, and Nina chuckled; before finally turning around, and walking over to the trailer, letting herself inside.

She quickly got dressed in clean clothes. The heat hadn’t exactly waned, so Nina decided to switch jeans for shorts and a top. She reminded herself to ask someone about taking her to a laundromat; not having packed a lot. She’d been told to leave her small apartment at home in as normal a state as possible. In case someone did come looking for her, SAMCRO didn’t want to let them know she’d run. She picked up her jacket to hang it, and a shudder went through her body, as she fished her .38 out of the pocket. It felt heavier than it should, in spite of its smallness, and she felt bile rise in her throat. A hard knock on the door made her jolt, and she quickly hid the gun under her helmet; before she went over to open. EZ was standing outside, with a friendly smile on his face. “’Morning”, he said. “It is”, Nina replied. “I got breakfast-burritos in the clubhouse”, he offered. Nina shook her head with a smile. “You didn’t need to do that”. “I know what’s in my brother’s fridge. I doubt he fed you”, EZ grinned. “Come on”.

She followed the prospect back to the clubhouse, where EZ gestured for her to take a seat by a table. Nina noticed the ginger woman Coco had been spending time with the night before, was seated by the bar; legs crossed and tits pushed out, smiling at the biker, who was trying to ignore her, and focus on his game of pool with Gilly. EZ put a plate on the table in front of Nina, with a delicious smelling burrito. “Gabby… She’s a good cook”, he said, his voice adoring. Nina bit in to it, and couldn’t do anything but agree. “This is delicious. Tell her thanks”, she smiled.

The door to templo opened, and Bishop came out with Taza, Riz and Angel in tow. “She’s business, Angel. You treat her like any other business we have going on”, Bishop said, and walked over to the bar, accepting a beer from the girl behind it. “You wouldn’t shove your dick down the barrel of an mk47, would you?”, Taza asked. Angel stood with his back to Nina, not having noticed her. “It wouldn’t fit, anyway”, he shrugged. “Just, don’t complicate things”, Bishop said. “Bish, it ain’t like that”, Angel said. Bishop looked at him in disbelief. “We fucked, yeah; but…”. Taza noticed Nina watching them, and patted Angel’s shoulder. He turned around, and locked eyes with her; looking like a handsome deer caught in headlights.

Nina looked down, and chewed her lips. At least they were on the same page, she tried to convince herself. She didn’t know Angel from the next guy; all she did know, was that he was damn good in bed, and liked beers, babes and bikes. They’d had sex, that was it. Still, she couldn’t help but feel his words chafe a bit. There was a long moment of silence, before Nina decided to put Angel – and herself– out of their misery. “I was bored, and his shower has good pressure”, she said. Angel let out an embarrassed laugh, and shrugged, while his friends shook their heads, letting a roaring laughter fill the room.

Everyone went about their biker business, and Nina went back to her breakfast; having lost most of her appetite. She wrapped up the burrito, and pushed away the plate. A mug of coffee was set down in front of her, and she looked up to meet EZ’s apologetic eyes. “I’m… sorry, about that”, he muttered. “My brother… he’s a good guy, but…”. “I know how it is. Don’t worry about it”, she smiled in reply. “How is it, then?”, Angel asked, having walked over to them. EZ left them to it. “I got an itch scratched, and you got your dick wet. Life goes on”, Nina said. Angel made a labored sigh, and scratched his bearded chin. “Look, Nina. I’m…”. She got on her feet, and put a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Angel. We’re good”, she smiled, and got on her toes, to kiss his cheek; doing her best to avoid enjoying his scent. “We had fun”. He chewed his lip for a moment. “Yeah, we had fun…”. Taza called for him, and Angel took a step back. “I gotta go take care of something. See you around, Nina”. He went off to talk to the VP.

Nina took a few sips of her coffee, before walking over to get behind the bar. She smiled friendlily at the blonde girl standing there – the same girl, in fact, that Angel had turned down the night before – who looked at her indifferently, and handed her a rag to wipe down the counter. This was familiar territory, and she smiled to herself, as she handed a pair of cold ones to Gilly and Coco; who’d finished their game, and came over to the bar. The redhead immediately pressed up against Coco, who looked like he wanted to dig himself into a deep hole. “Can I get you anything else, baby?”, she asked, making clear her intentions. “Nah, I’m good. Let me talk to my brothers for a moment, yeah?”, he replied. “Sure… I’m just gonna go fix my lipstick”, the woman winked at him, and walked towards the bathroom. “When’s the wedding?”, Gilly asked. “Fuck you”, Coco snarled, before nodding at Letty, who’d just walked in the door – looking hungover. “I can’t get her to leave”. “Who?”, Letty asked, and accepted a coke from Nina. “Just some chick. I told her the deal, but it’s like she didn’t hear me”, Coco said.

Letty rolled her eyes, and gave the woman a once over, as she came back from the bathroom. When she was once again pressed against Coco – who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second – Letty took pity on him, and walked over to the pair; putting her head on Coco’s shoulder. “Are you my new mommy?”, she smiled innocently at the ginger; who froze in place. Suddenly, it was like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “Sorry, I gotta go”, she muttered, and scuttered of in haste. Coco smiled crookedly, and shook his head. “You’re crazy, mija”, he said. “Nah, I just don’t want a stepmom, who wears that shade of lipstick”, Letty said, and went back to her coke.

Bishop cleared his throat. “Well, if everyone’s got their dicks back in their pants, we got some business to tend to”, he said. The Mayans all scattered, and went to their respective jobs around the yard, and wherever else they went, when they did their business.

---

Nina spent the rest of the day getting her bearings around the scrap-yard, and its office. Chucky’s filing-system might have seemed chaotic to anyone else, but Nina knew it well, and was happy to be occupied with something other than thinking about a certain Mayan and his well-shaped body – especially how it looked naked. A gorgeous Latina girl showed up in the afternoon, carrying a fantastic smelling bag of Tupperware, and looking for EZ; and Nina was finally introduced to the person who had made her delicious breakfast. She immediately understood why EZ was smitten with Gabby, and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two of them dancing around each other like a pair of puppies in love. They took off after an hour or so, so EZ could drive Gabriella home. He returned with the largest smile she’d ever seen on anyone’s face, and went straight to work on a road king in the garage.

During dinner, feasting on Gabby’s delicious tamales with EZ, Nina asked about laundromats. “There’s one, but there’s only one functioning dryer, and it smells like feet”, EZ said. “I can wait a few days, but I still need to go at some point”, Nina said. “And I need to get a prescription filled. That’s kind of urgent”. Her inhaler was almost empty, she’d realized that morning. A roar of bikes came from outside, and Nina got on her feet, taking the plates to wash them behind the bar. EZ followed her, nodding at Bishop, Riz and Angel, as they entered the clubhouse. “Drug-stores round here are closed at this time of night, but I’ll ask Bishop if I can take you in the morning”, he said. Nina groaned, and looked out the corner of her eye at the president. “It’s like needing a fucking hall-pass if I even think about leaving this place”, she muttered. EZ chuckled, and wiped off the plates after she’d washed them. “Yeah, why is that? Are you on the run from the cops or something?”. Nina looked down at her hands, suddenly feeling the need to wash them thoroughly. Scrubbing them hard under the tap, she shrugged indifferently. “Chibs is just protective, I guess. And I hear this area is overrun by outlaw bikers”. “You know it!”, Riz exclaimed, having arrived at the counter with Angel. “Coffee, please; sweetheart. I’m gonna be spending the night prepping for the run tomorrow”. Nina poured Riz a mug, and looked at Angel. “Dos Equis”, he said, his demeanor cool. Nina served him the beer, avoiding eye-contact.

“Do you need me for the run tomorrow?”, EZ asked. “No. Why?”, Riz asked. “Nina needs to take care of some stuff in town, and I was gonna take her”. Angel took a sip of his beer, and looked between Nina and EZ. “What stuff?”, he said with an edge to his voice. EZ scoffed, and shook his head. “Bro, come on…”, he said. Riz raised his brows, and backed away from the counter; obviously uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. “The drug-store, Angel. And then we might go have an orgy; I haven’t decided yet”, Nina said sarcastically. Angel raised his hands in mock defeat. “Hey, Bish told us to look out for you. I’m just keeping my eyes on business here”. “Yeah… I’m gonna turn in. See you tomorrow, EZ”. The prospect looked at her apologetically. “I’ll talk to Bishop”, he said. Nina nodded, and walked towards the door.

A strong hand grabbed her lower arm before she could walk outside. Nina scowled up at Angel, who looked remorsefully at her. “I’m sorry, Nina. That was shitty of me”, he said. “Don’t worry about it. You should be sorrier about suggesting that your brother would cheat on his girlfriend”, she replied. Angel looked back at EZ, and nodded solemnly. “Yeah. I know”, he muttered. “Are we good, cuervo?”. “Of course”, Nina said. “Goodnight, Angel”. She pulled out of his grasp, and left the clubhouse.

---

The next day, Taza, Riz, Creeper, Angel and Coco got on their bikes, and in a van, to go north for the SAMCRO-delivery. “Say hi to Rat and Quinn for me, would you?”, Nina said from the porch, unable to hide the sadness in her voice. “Will do”, Taza promised, and started his bike. “Let’s not keep reaper waiting”. Angel sent Nina a slight smile, before Coco patted his shoulder to make him start the van.

EZ had managed to convince Bishop of the urgency of Nina’s drug-store run, and after helping out at the office for a few hours, she got on the back of his bike, to have him take her in to town. Angel had lied about his brother’s ability to ride with a passenger – a fact that didn’t surprise Nina, by the way – because he was probably the safest driver she’d ever ridden with. Overly safe, some might say. The prospect avoided every bump, and kept well bellow the speed-limit all the way.

After Nina had used her fake ID – No paper trail, luv, Filip had said – to get her new inhaler, EZ asked if she’d be ok with a short stop by his pap’s. Nina couldn’t say no to meeting the elder Reyes; curious to see what kind of man had sired two such different men. Seeing Gabriella behind the counter of Felipe Reyes’ butcher-shop, Nina understood the prospect’s real reason for wanting to visit his father; though there was no lack of love between him and Felipe, that much was evident by the way they looked at each other.

“She’s playing pop-music again, Ezekiel”, Felipe said, gesturing at a small stereo that was blaring the charts, as he came over to greet his son. “Amas mi musica”, Gabby grinned. “Hi, Nina”. “Hey, Gabby. Thanks for all the food!”, Nina replied with a smile. “You’re welcome”. After EZ had kissed his girlfriend’s cheek, he gestured towards Nina. “Pap, this is Nina. She’s new in town”. Felipe shook Nina’s hand. “Is my boy giving you a tour of the potholes?”, he asked. “No, he’s the most boring biker I’ve ever ridden with”, she replied with a smile, getting a guffawing laughter from the man. “See, EZ? I told you!”, Gabby grinned. “Hey!”, EZ laughed. “I’m just safe”. “Boring!”, Gabby said.

As EZ and Gabriella went to whisper sweet nothings behind the counter, Nina went to examine the bookcase Felipe had exhibited in his shop. “Looking for some light reading?”, Felipe asked. “Always… And, giving the lovebirds some space”, Nina replied, and looked towards the smiling pair behind the counter. She picked up a picture of two smiling boys, each on a bicycle; smiling proudly at the camera. For a second, she felt a sting in her heart. “That’s EZ”, Felipe said, and pointed at the smaller boy. “And the other one is my eldest”. “Angel”, Nina said. Felipe chuckled. “You’ve met him”, he said. “I’m staying at the scrapyard”, she replied. Felipe raised a brow at her. “You’re the one who has EZ sleeping on my couch”. Nina felt her cheeks beginning to burn, and put down the picture again. “Yeah, I’m… sorry”, she said. “Don’t be. It’s good to have him home at least some of the time. That… club, takes up a lot of his time”. Nina chewed her lips for a moment. “You don’t like the club”, she said. Felipe met her eyes for a second, looking tired suddenly. “Sorry, it’s not my place”, she muttered. “No… No, it’s alright”, he said, a smile forcing it’s way onto his face. “I suppose all parents have higher hopes for their children, than…”. “Riding around on motorbikes, and wearing leather in the 100 degrees desert sun?”, Nina said, returning his smile. “That too”, Felipe said. “Are you what they call a… hangaround?”. Nina’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. “Pap, that’s rude”, EZ said, having joined them by the bookcase. “I’m sorry, Nina. I’m not clear on the lingo”, Felipe said. Nina laughed heartily. “It’s fine. Really”, she said. “I guess I am. Sort of. It’s a long story”.

EZ put a hand on Nina’s shoulder. “Angel called. They’re on their way back. We should get back to the yard”. Nina nodded, and went to follow him to the door. “Come back some time if you need something to read”, Felipe said. “Or a steak”. “I might take you up on that”, Nina smiled, and followed EZ out to his bike.

They rode back to the yard; this time with EZ hitting a few bumps on the way there.

---

The Mayans that had gone on the run returned to the clubhouse shortly after Nina and EZ. She got right to work behind the bar. It was easy to fall in line as a club hangaround; Nina knew the deal. Serve the beer, keep out of the way, smile, and pretend like you don’t hear or see any of the illegal stuff going on. Her role also made it easier to avoid eye contact with Angel. She was, for lack of a better word, furniture. It hadn’t been completely the same in Charming, though. There, she’d been far from the regular hangaround, and her status as family made it near impossible for her to be a croweater – god knows, Juice had tried, in his day. The memory of the biker made her frown in sadness for a second, before she shook herself, and served a round of whiskey to a Riz, Creeper and Angel; accepting a shot herself.

“Oh yeah. That scrawny guy, Rat, brought something you forgot at their clubhouse”, Riz said. He handed her a leather-bound journal. Nina sighed when she took it from him. She hadn’t as much forgotten it, as left it behind; telling herself it was by accident. Opening it was always a strange mix of warm emotions and pain. “Thanks”, she muttered. “Is it a diary, or something?”, Creeper asked. “It’s… yeah, something like that”. “Yours? Like; dear diary. Today I drank too much tequila, and lost my panties…”, he jeered. Getting a little tired of Creepers attitude, she smirked at him. “More like; dear diary. Today, a stupid ass biker kept bringing up an embarrassing drunk-story; so, I shot him in the head…”. Her heart dropped as she said the final words, and she cleared her throat. Riz and Creeper laughed at what they found to be a great come-back, while Angel seemed less amused, as he examined her face. She gave them all a strained smile. “I’m gonna go get some air. Leave you gentlemen to it”, she said, grabbed the journal, a cigarette and a lighter, and hurried out of the clubhouse.

Once outside, she went over to the cage she’d been told the club settled their internal arguments in. It was cooler now, and the sky was full of stars. She went inside the cage, and sat down on the ground; lighting her cigarette, before opening the journal. For a long moment, she just sat there, looking at the picture fastened to the inside of it; of two young boys, smiling. The youngest one was sitting on the back of a pony, that the older one was holding the reins of.

“You want me to kick Creep’s ass for you?”. Nina looked up at Angel, who’d followed her outside. He stepped inside the cage, and leaned against the fence. “I’ll fuck him up. I don’t care if he is a brother”. “No, it’s fine. He was just joking around”, Nina replied. Angel sauntered towards her slowly. “He’s trying to get in your pants, querida”, he said. “Well, add enough tequila to the equation, maybe he’s got a shot”. She raised a brow at the tall biker. “Ouch… Moving on so soon, cuervo?”, Angel said with a slight smile. “Jealous?”, she teased. “Always”, he replied – exactly as she’d hoped – and sat down next to her.

For a long moment, all that could be heard was the sound of cicadas. Angel ran a finger over the picture of Abel and Thomas. “These your kids?”, he asked quietly. “No… But, they’re family. Sort of”, Nina replied. “You got kids?”. “I fucking hope not”, Angel grinned. “I’d just screw them up”. “You’re not so bad”, she said, and nudged him with her shoulder. “Mind telling my pap that?”. Nina raised a brow at him, not wanting to push him to talk about something he wasn’t comfortable with. He took the journal out of her hands, and looked at the two smiling boys in the picture. “Family, you know. Shit… My old man looks at EZ like he’s the sun and moon combined. Me… I’m the fuckup. Even more now, that I dragged his golden boy in to the club”. “EZ’s a big boy. He makes his own decisions… we all do, at the end of the day”, Nina said, and took back the journal. She took a few huffs of her cigarette. “You look at him that way too, you know”. “I do?”, Angel frowned. “Fuck, I hope he hasn’t noticed”. “It’s not wrong to be proud of someone worthy of it. And in spite of your… bad-boy demeanor, he seems to be proud of you as well”.

Angel pondered her words for a moment, before looking at her “Sorry, I was supposed to make you feel better. That’s why I came out here. I saw how you looked when Creeper was talking about that thing”, he said, and nodded towards the journal. “It’s ok”, Nina said, and closed it; hugging it against her chest. “I’m just protective of it, is all”. “Like with the helmet?”, he asked. Nina nodded. “You wanna tell me about it?”. “What?”, she whispered. “Those kids… Whoever you got that helmet from… Why we’re sitting on you here, like you’re under witness protection or something…?”. He nudged her shoulder like she had his, and smiled a little. His expression was warm, like he actually cared about what she had to say. The closeness between them felt dangerous, at the same time as it felt perfectly safe, and right.

Nina took a breath, and was about to shrug him of – give him some half story, about being friendly with SAMCRO – when she met Angel’s eyes. His gaze was earnest; trustworthy, even. “The helmet used to belong to my… someone I used to be really close to. Those are his kids in the picture…”, she said. “I’m holding on to this until they get older. He asked me to give it to them when they're old enough to read it”. “And he died?”, Angel said. “Crashed his bike into an oncoming truck…”, she said. “Shit… I’m sorry. Who was he to you?”. Nina sighed, and smiled softly. “The sun and moon combined”, she said. “Your brother?”, Angel asked confusedly. “Not biologically”, Nina chuckled. “But he took care of me. Treated me like a sister. After he died, the club still kept me close, like family”. “So, you have a whole club of family back in Charming. Why leave?”, Angel asked. Nina’s throat instantly went dry, and she looked at the ground. “A bad break-up”, she replied, her voice breaking. “I needed a fresh start”. Angel didn’t question her; merely seemed to accept her words for truth, and moved on.

They sat in silence for a moment longer, before he suddenly looked like he was beginning to put two and two together. “Your… brother. He was SAMCRO…”. She nodded. “And he crashed headfirst into a truck”. “Yeah…”, Nina whispered, the air thick with the truth being exposed. “Holy shit… I fucked Jackson Teller’s baby sis!”, Angel exclaimed. Nina felt her stomach churn at his words. “That’s like… royalty! I should get my dick silvered or something”. Nina stubbed out her cigarette. “If he was still around, he’d probably do it himself; while it was still attached to you”. Angel winced. “Shit, yeah. That man had a reputation. He was like the boogeyman to Mayan prospects in my day. I heard that one time, he shot a guy in both legs for pinching some hangaround chick’s ass”. “He didn’t shoot him, he just broke all his fingers”, Nina muttered. Angel’s eyes widened. “That was your ass, huh…”, he said, more as a statement, than a question. “It wasn’t Chucky, was it? Is that why he’s got those…”. He wiggled his fingers in the air. “No… That was something else…”, Nina replied. “Jax wasn’t just that, though. He was a good man”. Angel nodded. “Yeah, I heard that, too”. He studied her face for a long moment. “You loved him”, he said, finally. “Like, loved him”. Nina looked confusedly at him, before she caught his meaning. “What? No…! He was family. Just that”, she replied truthfully. Angel smiled crookedly. “Good. It ain’t easy fighting a ghost over a girl”, he said.

Nina felt a smile tug at her lips, but wasn’t ready to be sweet-talked by the guy who’d openly admitted she was a one-night stand, just the day before. “I thought we agreed what this was…”, she said. “Did we? I didn’t agree to anything”. He raised his brows at her, and smiled wryly. “What happened to consent?”. “That’s not how that works”, Nina laughed. “Let’s agree to disagree about that, ma'”, Angel said. Nina sighed deeply. “You told Bishop; we fucked, yeah. But… “. Angel looked taken aback. “Are you like my brother or something? Do you remember everything?”. “I remember that”, Nina said, a slight edge to her voice. Angel frowned at her. “You never considered maybe I was about to say; we fucked, yeah. But I like this girl? Or; this girl is different?”. “You were probably about to say; she gives good head”, Nina scoffed. “You don’t know me well enough to like me, or think I’m special”. “We could change that”, Angel said. “Spend some time together… I get that you’re just passing through, and that you kind of belong to another club, because of this thing with Teller, but…”.

Nina felt a sudden rage bubble through her. “I’m not a goddamn trophy!”, she hissed. “You don’t get to use me like some big fuck you to SAMCRO, for tapping one of their girls. Fuck that!” “That’s not what I’m saying", Angel said. Nina got to her feet and backed away from him. Her breath was catching, and she felt an oncoming asthma-attack. She often got them when got upset, but couldn’t find it in herself to calm down. “Don’t try to bullshit me. I know guys like you; measuring your pride in the amount of pussy you can get to climb on the back of your bike”. She didn’t realize the harshness of her words, before she saw Angel’s expression. He got on his feet himself, and looked at her with hard eyes. “You should be careful sitting out here, Nina" he said, and looked at the cage-fence surrounding them. “Someone might thing you’re gunning for a fight". While Nina stood frozen in place, he walked out of the cage, and got on his bike; driving out of the lot.

“Fuck!”, she growled at herself, and stumbled towards the trailer. Once inside, she scrambled to find her inhaler, and took a hit; feeling her lungs return to normal function. “Fuck…”, she repeated, and collapsed on the cot; clutching the journal in her arms.

---

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #ez reyes #coco cruz

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swiss-cheeze · 4 years

Text

Please || Matthew Gray Gubler

Requested, YES/NO: Can I please request a female reader where she is chubby and by about her appearance and she and Matthew are in a relationship but she is scared he is going to leave her for someone more pretty. So he gets into an argument about why she is acting weird and she confesses and basically it ends with him showing her how beautiful she is and smut and after care?

Gender: she/her, female.

Warnings: body worship, talk of food and weight gaining due to food (unhealthy mindset from the reader i guess?), reader calls themself a ‘troll’, self-abuse/hurtful words to oneself, sex.

-------

“You ready pumpkin?” Matthew asked as he walked into the shared bedroom; only to see you in your underwear squishing your stomach with a sad frown, “oh baby” Matthew pouted as he came up behind you, his arms wrapped around your stomach and pulled you into his back, “just not a good day?” you shrugged, it was hard to speak without crying, “we don't have to go out,” his voice was small as he peppered kisses down your neck while thumbing at your stomach. Your breath shuddered as you walked to your closet and picked out your comfort outfit and sniffled, “sweetie i promise we don't have to go” Matthew stood still in the middle of the room while you stood in front of the closet trying your hardest not to break down, “you can stay here, i'll go alone bubby”

“I'll be okay,” your voice was scratchy and barely a whisper but Matthew somehow heard it.

“I don't want you to go somewhere where you’re not comfortable,” Matthew retorted, god you loved this man.

“Please,” it was a whimper.

Please just drop it.

Please just let me do this.

Please hold me.

Please tell me if I'm enough.

Please don't touch me.

Please help me.

The thing that brought you back to earth was the kiss Matthew gave to the crown of your head before exiting the room; leaving you with the click of the door and the screams of your inner demons and voices. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of the voices before grabbing your comfort outfit and getting dressed; it was a red carpet event after all, you couldn't be late, or look bad.

-----

“Oh my god it's Jennifer Aniston!” Matthew whispered with a grin as said model and actor stepped out of her car and started making her way onto the carpet. Matthew hugged your sides - your chubby sides - and squeezed you into him as cameras flashed.

“Matthew over here!”

“Gubler this way!”

“Oi, look at me! Perfect!”

God it was so loud even in this open venue. You tried to keep your smile light and happy but anyone who was anyone could see exactly what was going on in your head; you were only brought back to earth for the second time today by the pull of Matthew. You're leaving! Finally! After a-

“Hello! I am here with Matthew Gray Gubler and girlfriend (Y/n) (L/n)!” a voice called.

Fuck.

Interview.

Smile and wave boys, just smile and wave.

“How are you enjoying the place so far Matthew?” the interviewer asked as you finally got a good look at her; long blonde hair, perfectly chiseled face, tight waist, small stomach, skin tight dress, long legs, perfect pedicure and manicure…

“(Y/n)?” Matthew jolted you slightly as you stared at the interviewer.

“Yes?” you questioned.

“How do you feel tonight? You've got many models and actors around you, is it a bit overwhelming being with an actor?” god even her voice was sexy.

“Um, no, no it's good!” you gave a fake small and jolted yourself to a fake happy, “it's great being around those i admire and watch in shows and movies; Chris Evans, Simon Pegg; i think even Ben Hardy and a few others i admire are here too” you gave a grin and looked around while talking to give the impression you were looking for the people you were talking about.

“Well that sounds good!” The interviewer gave a forced laugh, almost like she was bored, “are you wearing anything special or is this just the sunday look?” her giggle was what caught you on the insult.

“Excuse me?” Matthews hand on your waist tightened as you spoke.

“Darling-”

“Your outfit is a bit old…” the interviewer paused, “a bit outdated?” this made you go quiet; now your comfort outfit is ruined.

“Excuse us,” Matthew mumbled as he guided you away from the interviewer and into a quiet corner.

“What-”

“Did you want to go home?” Matthew cut you off, he was stern and to the point.

“What? No of course not-”

“Your comfort outfit has just been insulted, I know how much you love this outfit and I know how amazing it makes you look every single time you wear it,” Matthew waited a moment as he looked at you with all the love in the world.

“But what about-”

“It's just a party” Matthew reminded you, he always had a habit of making bad situations into good ones.

“No, no I promise I'm okay baby,” you gave the most convincing smile you could, Matthew was hesitant but eventually gave in as you continued the red carpet and did another 3 interviews...all while being surrounded by lovely size 6 women who have flat stomachs, nice legs and nice breasts. While you were on the heavier side of the spectrum you couldn't help but thank yourself for your breasts; they were not huge but they weren't small like some actresses were because their body was small in comparison. And Matthew adored your breasts; always held them and stuffed his face in them to make you laugh, always leaving marks and bruises in the perfect places that only you know about...so you just kept that same mentality through the rest of the night.

He loves me.

That's all I need.

He loves all of me.

He could go for better.

But he chose me.

God he could totally go for better.

Look there’s Aniston and her perfect body-

No stop!

God and now A.J., and Paget; even Kirsten looks better in any outfit than i do.

No matter how much you tried you just couldn't stop thinking how much better Matthew would be with someone smaller than you; someone who could give him lap dances and not have rolls, someone he could throw over his shoulder easy, someone he could pick up from behind, someone who could sit on his face and not crush him...this is gonna be a long night.

------

When you got home that night all you wanted to do was law down in bed and weep, but of course you had a boyfriend whom you lived with.

“Did you like the movie (Y/n)?” Matthew asked as he hung his coat, a big dopey grin plastered on his face. You shrugged.

“Was a movie,” was your only response before walking into the bedroom and striping to your underwear.

“Okay…” Matthew mumbled, he knew something was up but he didn't want to push it, “want to order in or something then?” he called through the house, “maccas? Thai? Ooo I could go for some good sushi or honey soy chicken; oh my god AND NOODLES!” he sounded too excited for what seemed to be a weight gaining meal. Matthew bounded into the bedroom with a grin before stopping short.

There you were.

Head in your hands.

Shoulders shaking.

Silently sobbing.

“Baby?”

“Please leave me alone,”

“Please tell me what's wrong...you’ve never been like this; you've always loved yourself,”

You sniffled before going silent for a moment.

“I've always been like this; i'm just good at hiding it from everyone,”

And it suddenly made sense.

When you get a smaller plate than you normally would in restaurants, a salad instead of a cupcake, a healthy shake rather than milkshake, exercising more, covering yourself with layers when you go out together.

“Oh sweetheart,”

Matthew sat down next to you, he was about to reach a hand out to touch you but cowered back when he realised you most likely wouldn't like it.

“You know you're...you’re a lot like Spencer Reid even if he's only fictional,” this seemed to make you smile as you thought of the times you got to spend on set with your second family, “you give great advice, you’re smart in places others aren't, you ramble...but then again you're so different: you’re warm, inviting, open hearted, head full, eccentric, extravagant-”

“Well i wouldn't say extravagant-”

“Well I do,” you finally looked at Matthew; his face faltered when he saw how tear stained and red splotched you where. But god you were still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I know i'm probably a troll by now-”

“No, no no baby; never,” Matthew raised his hands and cupped your jaw to keep you looking at him, “you’re always the most beautiful thing i ever had the pleasure of meeting,” you wanted to smile, and you did, but that was only your face.

“Yeah? Then what about the rest of me-”

“Dont” Matthew was quick to cut you off, “you are beautiful, all of you is beautiful,”

“But I've got, I've got rolls! A-and marks! Hair! I-i smell, I'm flabby, I jiggle…”

“I have rolls too and you love them,” your eyes darted to Spencers stomach where you knew his soft rolls where, “i have marks,” your eyes traveled to his hips were you knew some stretch marks looked like bolts of lightning from Zeus and Thor themselves, “i have hair,” you probably shouldn't have but you looked to his pant-covered crotch where you knew there was a recently trimmed patch of dark hair, “i smell,” you giggled at this as you both did kind of smell due to the day out in the hot movie theater, “im flabby and i jiggle,” he wasn't wrong, his arms sometimes jiggled when you moved them the same as his tummy whenever he danced weirdly.

“But youre skinny-”

“No buts,”

“I eat too much”

“So do I”

“You don't gain weight from it”

“Because i couldn't swallow for 26 days and have a fast metabolism”

“You have cheekbones”

“So do you”

“You cant see mine”

“I was a model; I had to bite the inside of my cheeks”

“Chiseled jaw,”

“Jaw exercises because i was a model; plus eating you o-”

“OKAY SHUSH,” you waved Matthew off with a laugh before standing up quickly.

“Can we please just go to bed? I just want this day to end,” you asked as your hands unconsciously covered your naked stomach; Matthew only now realised you had stripped from your dress before he came into the room. The look in his eyes when he scanned you from top to bottom included a range of emotions, from love and lust, to anger; anger being that you couldn't see what he sees and saw every day of his life.

“Can you at least let me show you how amazing your body is? And how much I adore you, your body and your mind?” a red flush went over your whole body as you realised what he was asking. Of course he asked. Consent is sexy.

That’s when it all fell into place; as soon as you nodded Matthew was all over you.

The plush bed moved under you as Matthew guided you down to the pillows and left feather-like kisses along your neck while muttering praises under his breath.

“Beautiful”

“Goddess”

“Princess”

“Elegant”

“One of a kind”

“Plush”

“Perfect”

“Impenetrable”

“Lovely”

“Divine”

“Angelic”

“Captivating”

“Foxy”

Each kiss left a word, each word left a purple bruise, each bruise lit a fire inside you you never knew you had. Nibbles trailed from your neck to your panty line before dispersing around your stomach in red and splotchy hickies and bites. Matthews hands went under you to unclasp your bra before leaving it somewhere on the bed or the floor; you couldn't really care less. His rough hands were the first to touch you and play with your nipples before his tongue, mouth and teeth followed; nipping and biting your nipples, pulling them slightly, twisting and licking. It felt like a dream.

“Sh-shit Matthew,” you let out a breathy whine while your body twitched under Matthews hands and mouth, one hand went down to your waist to hold you still while the other stayed playing with the plush flesh.

“Always loved these,” Matthew mumbled into your breast, he took a moment to plunge his face in your cleavage causing you to laugh, “just gimme a sec lovely,” Matthews voice came out muffled as he sat still; your arms coming up to play with his hair. His hands gripped both of your breasts softly before pushing them into the sides of his face, again, causing you to laugh.

“Is this your way of showing me how much you love me?” you questioned, Matthew stayed silent before a nod came from him, again, causing you to laugh harder before the man brought his face back to the real world with a harsh intake of breath.

“Couldn't breath,” Matthew said breathlessly, obviously. You both laughed for a moment before Matthew dove in for a kiss; heated, breathless, full of love and admiration for you. It honestly caught you off guard and made you forget what all of this was really for; until Matthews hands started pawing at your stomach.

“Gube-”

“Please”

And suddenly you were brought back to this morning; except this was different.

Please let me.

Please let me love you.

Please let me show you how amazing you are.

Please let me show you how beautiful you are.

Please let me show you how perfect you are.

Please allow me to be with you.

Please let me hold you.

Please.

And that was all it took.

“Okay,” you smiled a teary smile, as Matthew kissed your cheek and then trailed down to your stomach, peppering kisses, nibbles and licks all over your tummy.

“I love your stomach,” Matthew mumbled, “it holds your intestines together, it holds your food in, it keeps you together,” his nibbles soon went lower; leaving marks on the apex of your thighs as well as your inner thighs.

“Babe please…” your fingers threaded through Matthews hair as you tried to guide him to the place you really wanted but he stayed at your thighs.

“Darling just let me love you,” Matthew requested.

“Love me between my legs Gube” you whined while tugging at the mop on Matthews head until finally, finally! Matthew started to pull down your underwear before spreading your legs and...staring, “Gube…” you started to feel uncomfortable and closed your legs.

“Sunshine im sorry,” Matthew finally looked to you rather than your sex, “you’re just beautiful everywhere,”

“I know, i just haven't shaved and-”

“No, stop,” Matthew kissed your panty line, “this is about loving all of you; when have I ever cared if you’ve shaved or not?” the man gave you an unanswerable question, “answer me baby,”

“Never…”

“Never. Exactly,” he smiled before crawling back up to you and kissing your nose for a moment before going back down and licking a stripe up your slit causing you to moan from the suddenness, “god and you taste perfect,”

“Please don't say I taste like strawberry or something,” you giggled, Matthew laughed softly before shaking his head with his tongue on your clit; giving you pleasure while saying ‘no’. You tugged on his hair some more while the pleasure lasted. Matthew swiftly tore off his pants, boxers and shirt before lifting your legs and positioning himself at your entrance.

“You ready sweetheart?” Matthew mumbled, his hair was tousled with sex hair, his eyes bore into you with love, he was breathing heavily, a slight sheen of sweat was on his forehead he was like-

“A god,” you mumbled, hands finding Matthews cheeks and holding him softly.

“What…?”

“You’re like an actual god,” you spoke again, your voice was quiet as your eyes started to tear up.

“Oh darling,” Matthew mumbled, his hands coming up to wipe the tears away, “then you’re my goddess,” you nodded before bringing Matthew down for a kiss the same time he entered you; a low moan rumbling from the both of you as Matthew stilled, “you feel so good around me darling; wet and tight,” that's when he started thrusting; it felt like nothing you’d dot together before.

“H-holy shit,” your moans mixed together as Matthew held you tightly, his head buried itself in your neck and started sucking on the skin he could make contact with as his thrusts sped up; your legs encased Matthew as he hit that perfect spot in you.

“God you’re so beautiful,” Matthew mumbled softly through laboured breaths, “you’re so amazing; always there for me, helping me with everything, being perfect,”

“I love you so much,” you whimpered, Matthews hand snaked down between your thighs and started rubbing your clit expertly like he always did causing your moans to become louder as well as your approaching orgasm.

“I love you so much too doll,” Matthew whispered, “you gonna come sweetheart?”, you nodded while a large moan escaped you, “you’re beautiful in every way,” you nodded as your hips met Matthews; eyes scrunched and brows knitted you placed your forehead on Matthews as his hands encased your hips and sped up yet again. You’re sure bruises would be forming on your hips later tonight but that just made everything better; it just made you want to love yourself even more with every bruise, bump, lump, mark, scratch and roll. The image of Matthew kissing every inch of your body was what set you off. A silent moan left you as your mouth formed an ‘o’ and your tongue went dry due to the intakes of breath, you keened as Matthew thrusted for a first, second, third time and came with you. The warmth spread through you as Matthew held you close; encasing you with his arms as your legs wrapped around him.

It took a moment for the two of you to come back down to earth, but when you did it felt like everything was new. Matthew flopped beside you breathing heavily as a smile grew on both of your faces, a few moments passed before the lanky man himself stood up and walked to the bathroom before coming back with a washcloth and cleaning you up.

“Thank you,” you mumbled as Matthew finally cozzied back up to you under the covers, bringing you into his chest and kissing the top of your head.

“Anything for you,”

“Yeah? Anything?”

“Yeah,” Matthew looked at you with a smile, “anything,” and it was a promise.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #emily prentiss #jj #aaron hotchner #Penelope garcia #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x female!reader #Spencer reid x AFAB reader #Reid x reader #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader

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lavenderboneswrites · 3 years

Note

it’s me, kitty 🥺

👉🏻👈🏻 Shizuo and Izaya having a self care day?

they try face masks, watch movies, do their nails, eat junk food, anything that comes to your mind 🥰

Maybe they even have a bubble bath together 👀👀

I LOVE YOU BB YOURE THE BEST 💖💖💖💖💘💘💘🥰🥰🥰

Of course my beloved got her request in first <3 <3 I hope you enjoy it bb, I tried to fit as much as your fav tropes in as I possibly could. Thank you for always supporting me and letting me share my ideas with you <3 <3

I Feel it Coming

Words: 5352

Rating: Explicit

Tags: smut and fluff, shizaya, established relationship, self-care day, possessive Shizuo, light dom/sub (please check AO3 for a comprehensive list of tags)

AO3

When Shizuo gets home Izaya is nowhere to be seen.

It’s been a long day of chasing down debts and deadbeats. Shizuo sighs as he toes off his shoes at the entrance and loosens the clip on bowtie. Making a trail up the stairs and to his bedroom, Shizuo pulls off his vest off along the way. He takes care to hang it gingerly on the hanger behind the door, certain he can get a few more wears out of this one before it needed washing.

He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, loosened buttons showing off a white undershirt and the hint of defined pectorals. Most of the lights in the apartment were on, the bedroom lit by low lamplight. Izaya is obviously around, and yet he normally greets Shizuo boisterously; often from his desk because he’s forgotten to stop working.

Shizuo untucks his shirt, slipping out of his pants and letting white fabric slip below his thighs. He’s thinking he needs a shower, or maybe he’ll just fall straight into bed, but he follows the sound of running water to the en suite.

Izaya really has a ridiculous apartment. His bathroom is off his bedroom, and if you pass through it you’ll find yourself in a large walk-in wardrobe. For someone who only wears the same ugly coat everyday Izaya sure has a lot of clothes. Shizuo’s not complaining, when Izaya wears that cream oversized turtleneck it does things to him.

Shizuo follows the rush of water to the bathroom. Steam clouds the air, mixed with a pleasant floral smell. It’s dark in here, the only light an illumination of candles on the basin and other various other spots. Water is filling the bath, a mix of bubbles and rose petals on the surface. Heated tiles warm Shizuo’s feet and he can’t help but feel the tension of the day lifting slightly at the relaxing atmosphere.

Until he almost has a heart attack.

Standing in the entrance to the wardrobe is a man with a white mask over his face.

Shizuo stumbles back, heart racing a million miles an hour as the figure emerges from the dark.

“What the fuck!?”

Shizuo clutches his hand in his shirt as he tries to force his rabbiting heart to calm down.

“You look like a fucking serial killer!”

He’s still trying to calm down from the shock as the masked man attempts a grin.

“Welcome home to you too, Shizu-chan.”

Izaya’s dressed in a maroon bathrobe and on his face is one of those stupid beauty masks he loves so much. Though, the serial killer look is slightly dampened by the fluffy white headband with cat ears Izaya wears to keep his hair back.

Izaya slinks up to him, arms going to wrap around his neck and Shizuo’s hands automatically go to his waist. It’s almost like a pavlovian response at this point.

“I’m not kissing you when you look like this,” Shizuo grumbles out to which Izaya replies with only a chuckle.

It’s disconcerting. The mask has holes for his mouth and eyes, and a slit for his nostrils, but other than that he looks completely macabre.

Shizuo ignores his own words when he allows Izaya to place a small peck on his lips.

“What’s all this?” Shizuo asks, rubbing circles into Izaya’s hips absentmindedly.

“Mm?” Izaya makes his usual noncommittal noise. “I thought Shizu-chan would like some pampering after a long day at work.”

Honestly, that sounds absolutely wonderful to Shizuo right about now. He eyes the bath off, noticing two glasses of lemon and mint infused water on the hob next to it. No doubt one of Izaya’s own ‘self-care’ creations.

Izaya doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive and a sprinkling of manipulation, Shizuo thinks with his eyes narrowing back to his currently psychotic looking boyfriend.

“What’s the catch?”

“My, my … can’t I just be doing something nice for my boyfriend?”

“No,” Shizuo deadpans back to Izaya’s fake as shit voice.

He attempts to pout, but he can’t move his face muscles well without messing up the mask.

“Boo Shizu-chan, you’re no fun.”

“And you’re a pest,” Shizuo says as Izaya hangs off him like some sort of dramatic leach.

Izaya leans his head back, giving an over top groan as if Shizuo’s inability to react in the way he wants is his greatest annoyance.

“Come on,” Shizuo leans closer, mouth almost touching skin as he whispers low into his ear. “The sooner you tell me what you want the sooner you’ll get it, flea.”

Shizuo can feel the way the body in his arms tenses up momentarily, almost like a shiver going through him from the low tenor of Shizuo’s voice. Really, Izaya was pretty easy to handle once he learnt a few tricks.

One being that he was an incredibly horny fleabag.

Izaya is sliding his hands down Shizuo’s back, sweeping over the curve of his ass as he finds the hem of Shizuo’s shirt. He runs his fingers along the seam before sneaking under white fabric to press at his upper thigh.

“Hmm,” Shizuo pulls back to find copper eyes among a sea of white. Izaya’s hands on his skin are slightly distracting and just a little bit ticklish. “I want Shizuo to do a face-mask with me.”

“And?” Shizuo presses, digging the points of his thumbs into Izaya’s hips lightly.

“And have a bubble bath.”

Shizuo just pulls Izaya closer, pressing a swift kiss the crown of his head. “Alright louse, I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”

Shizuo has a quick rinse off in the shower, afterwards changing into the navy bathrobe Izaya had brought to match his. It feels good to wash away the remnants of a long day, water beating down on his shoulders almost like a massage. Izaya’s shower had out of this world water pressure, honestly Shizuo was in love.

One face-mask later and the bath has finished filling. Steam is coming off the water, and Shizuo knows it’s still way too hot for either of them to get in. Though Izaya will probably try to early like always. He really was like some cold-blooded reptile, always trying to soak up as much heat as possible … usually from Shizuo himself.

Shizuo lets Izaya put his mask on. It was the best choice, considering the wet paper like cloth needed delicate handling and Shizuo would no doubt rip it immediately with his ‘monster’s paws’, as Izaya had said. He made sure to smack at Izaya with his monster paws for that comment.

The mask isn’t horrible. It’s wet and his vision is kind of obscured, and he doesn’t think it fits properly cause one side keeps curling down at his temple. Izaya had given him his own kitty ear headband to hold his fringe back, and the louse pesters him to take a few selfies together. Shizuo can’t help but snort at how ridiculous they look, kind of like a mannequin had a baby with a hockey mask.

They sit on the edge of the bathtub next to each other, sipping their drinks the best they can with the masks in the way. Shizuo eventually gets fed up and rips the sliver of paper between his nostrils and upper lip and Izaya almost chokes on his stupid lemon water laughing.

It’s cute.

It’s nice to just sit and talk, to take stock of each other’s day and catch up. Izaya plays footsies with him the entire time, and at one point Shizuo almost falls backwards into the bath trying to capture the louse’s calf between his feet.

Izaya’s hand is also rubbing once again against his thigh, sliding up under the material of his bathrobe. He massages his fingers into the muscles, pressing with precision into the knots hard enough to make Shizuo groan.

Izaya has a thing for his thighs. Shizuo doesn’t know why, but something about them makes the little pest go feral. They are thick and muscular, almost double the width of Izaya’s own legs and even if Shizuo didn’t see the appeal himself he’s happy to let Izaya have his fun.

Watching Izaya fuck himself against only his bare thigh really was a sight to behold.

After about ten minutes the face masks come off. Shizuo never could keep them on as long as Izaya; after a while it started to get too annoying and almost itchy. Still, Shizuo would be lying if he said it didn’t feel completely satisfying pealing the paper away from his skin.

He scrunches the mask into a ball, using it to rub the excess moisture of his face. Izaya folds his own mask much more neatly, leaning towards the mirror to inspect his skin as he wipes away any remaining excess.

Like every inch of that skin wasn’t flawless to begin with.

Shizuo rubs at his cheek, taking in how soft the mask has left his skin. He wasn’t that into self-care like Izaya was, but even he couldn’t deny these masks were magical.

Better was Izaya skin, which normally soft to the touch, became like silk under Shizuo’s fingertips. He can’t stop himself from reaching out, from cupping the flea’s cheek and rubbing his thumb against ivory skin.

It’s nice to finally see his unobscured face.

“Hey,” Shizuo’s turning that his to meet lips like satin in a soft kiss.

Izaya lets Shizuo set the pace to something slow and unhurried. He parts his mouth, tongue licking at the seam of Izaya’s lips before the other is turning to let him deepen the kiss further.

Shizuo licks into that wicked mouth with a careful consideration, letting Izaya’s taste flood over his tongue. There’s a hand twisting into the back of his hair and another once more kneading the flesh of his thigh.

Shizuo breaks the kiss slowly, dazzlingly eyes of whiskey alight with muted heat blinking softly back up at him.

“I’m home, Izaya.”

Izaya grins at the domestic phrase, rubs his nose against Shizuo’s and the little kiss is so cute that Shizuo can feel the tips of his ears go red.

“Welcome home, Shizu-chan.”

Izaya breath is like a whisper over his lips and Shizuo can’t help but mirror his smirk with a grin of his own.

Shizuo slips into the bath by himself, letting out a groan as the heat immediately relaxes the muscles in his back. It’s still way too hot. So hot that he can’t help but shiver, heat skittering almost painfully over sensitive nerve endings. And yet it feels like heaven, all of the tension flooding out of his body after a long day. He closes his eyes, letting his head lie back on the hob as he just soaks in the moment.

The patter of feet signal Izaya’s return. Shizuo opens one eye to see him standing before him with those same kitty ears and nothing else.

Izaya’s body is stunning. He’s lean and long limbed, but there’s a subtle grace to the way he holds himself. Shizuo always thinks of him as some kind of jungle panther. Light-footed. Slinking around like a predator. His waist is slim, and yet there is slight definition around his muscles, and his ass-, shit, his ass is a gift from God. Chasing the flea all those years had definitely paid off for him; and Shizuo was happy to enjoy the spoils too.

Izaya places a hand to Shizuo’s bicep as he steadies himself and steps into the water. Shizuo’s arm comes up to the small of his back automatically, ready to catch him at the first sign of a slip, but knowing Izaya it wasn’t necessary.

The flea slips into the space between Shizuo’s parted legs and leans back against his muscled chest. He lets out a little sigh as he submerges himself into the water up to his shoulders, obviously enjoying the heat sinking deep into his body just as Shizuo had. The noise is nice, something breathless and almost non-existent, something Shizuo is so attuned to he thinks he can almost hear it in his head rather than any physical sound.

Izaya’s leans his head back against his shoulder and Shizuo can’t help but wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him tighter against his front.

Izaya body fits perfectly against his, and not for the first time Shizuo is certain that flea was made for him.

The candles flicker with steam, and Shizuo thinks he could fall asleep right here and now.

Fwua!

A loud slapping sound breaks through his peace and Shizuo can feel giggles vibrating through Izaya’s back.

Opening his eyes again, Shizuo is met with the sight of Izaya scooping bubbles into his hands. He smacks them together quickly, the bubbles exploding into the air with his delighted giggles.

It’s too fucking cute.

“What are you, four?”

Izaya answers by twisting his neck to look over at Shizuo, a hand of foam raised and Shizuo’s barely has time to raise an eyebrow before bubbles are being blown into his face.

“Oi,” Shizuo hacks a cough, swallowing a great deal more soap than he ever wanted to. His eye twitches at the cheeky look in Izaya’s eyes and his grouchy tone really doesn’t match his own fond smile.

“Do you want me to drown you in this tub?”

Izaya pouts, “Shizu-chan don’t be mean.”

The pout cracks as his lips twitch up at the corners. Water splashes, the flea suddenly turning around fully and scooping up more bubbles.

“Shizu-chan let’s make you a bubble beard.”

“Haaah?”

“Haaah?” Izaya mocks, “come on old man.”

“I’m younger than you,” Shizuo quips back, trying to grab skinny wrists that keep trying to slap foam to his chin.

Wasn’t this supposed to be relaxing!?

Izaya’s attempts don’t ease up and he giggles as a ball of bubbles land delicately on Shizuo’s nose.

He narrows his eyes at his nose, as if the bubbles have personally offended him, and before Izaya can even get a yelp out Shizuo is shoving his head underwater.

Water goes over the sides of the tub and Izaya’s arms splash comically as Shizuo’s entire palm covers the crown of his head. He only gives it a few seconds before he lets up.

Izaya pops back up, hair sopping and stuck to his forehead as his kitty headband hangs pathetically around his neck. He splutters and coughs, attempting to glare at Shizuo as he rubs at his eyes.

Shizuo only gives a cocky raise of one eyebrow, as if to say ‘you started it’.

“Did you just try to drown me?” Izaya asks, his outrage fake as shit.

“You wanna go back under?” Shizuo threatens, but the tone is ruined by his wide smile.

Izaya grins, one shoulder coming up in a half-hearted shrug. He pulls off the headband around his neck, pouting at the state it’s in before flinging it over the side of the tub to the floor.

A glint flashes in Izaya’s eyes. It’s the only warning Shizuo gets before two hands are pressing down onto his head.

Shizuo plants his feet firmly on the bottom of the tub to stop from sliding, and Izaya’s wicked looked turns disappointed as Shizuo doesn’t budge an inch.

“Oi.”

Izaya’s eyes narrow into a look of determination, and he even gets to his knees as he tries to add even more force to Shizuo’s head.

“Why, won’t, you, die?”

Shizuo answers by letting himself suddenly slip under the water. The sudden loss of purchase has Izaya floundering and Shizuo swears he can hear him yelp through water.

Shizuo almost swallows an obscene amount of bath water from laughing before he pops back up. Izaya has slumped atop of him, arms around his neck as he holds his own head above water as if to keep himself from completely submerging.

Shizuo likes that. The way Izaya will always grab onto him, cling to him, whenever he loses his footing.

“Shizu-chan is so mean. Jail for a thousand years!”

Shizuo just chuckles, pushing Izaya’s fringe away from his forehead as he looks at him. He’s doing the face Shizuo loves, the one where his nose scrunches up oh so cutely. Shizuo loves that face, he wants to hoard it all to himself and never let anyone else see it.

If it got out Izaya was this cute Shizuo’s sure he’d have to beat off interested parties with a sick.

Mine.

Shizuo sits himself up, shaking his head like a dog to get the water out of his hair. Izaya squirms in his arms, but he doesn’t let go. Instead he manhandles the flea back into the same position they started in, with his back pressed to Shizuo’s chest, sitting between his legs.

There, Shizuo thinks triumphantly, Izaya’s wriggling getting less and less by the minute. He squeezes his thighs around the flea’s hips, wrapping his legs over the top of Izaya’s until he’s practically in a joint lock.

He’s really no match for Shizuo’s superior strength when it comes down to it. Still, it didn’t stop Izaya from trying to wrestle him daily.

“Have you calmed down you damn water rat?”

“Hmm,” Izaya hums as if he has no idea what Shizuo’s talking about. “Shouldn’t I be a water flea? Shizu-chan don’t you know it’s bad to mix metaphors?”

Shizuo just snorts at such a bratty response.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Izaya relents and relaxes back into his body and Shizuo can’t help but rub his nose against the back of his neck.

“You’re ridiculous,” Shizuo snorts into his skin, and he doesn’t need to see to know that Izaya is smirking.

He lets his lips and hands do the rest of the talking. Soft kisses trailing from Izaya’s neck to his shoulder and back again. He rubs his hands at the flea’s sides, making a path up and down slowly as he maps out every inch of creamy skin.

Izaya makes that soundless noise again, lips parted slightly as closes his eyes, focusing on sensation of Shizuo’s hands and lips on him. Shizuo’s touch is light, almost ticklish as he brushes fingertips across Izaya’s ribs, the water turning his path slick and easy.

Shizuo kisses are barely a press of lips to skin, so soft that it’s only the feel of his breath blowing out that makes Izaya’s skin erupt into goosebumps. Shizuo watches fascinated as that alabaster skin reacts before his very eyes.

Izaya’s got the faintest of freckles splayed across his shoulders, almost impossible to see unless this close. Shizuo loves to pick out each individual mark, a constellation of stars for his mouth to trace and follow. To worship and pay tribute to.

Shizuo rubs his hands from Izaya’s sides down to his hips, thighs, and back up again to his waist. Every time he trails down he moves a little bit further. Inch by torturous inch he teases skin until Izaya starts to squirm a little.

Heh.

Shizuo’s grin is wicked as he presses it under Izaya’s ear. His lips move up to brush against his pulse point and Izaya lifts his chin to allow Shizuo greater access.

Shizuo’s chuckle spills over skin for real and shivers are erupting once more over Izaya’s skin.

“Mmm?” Shizuo whispers a questioning noise, hands dipping past the heated flesh at Izaya’s inner thigh. “You like that flea?”

Izaya does a little jerk of his head, eyes closed and it really is too cute.

“Does it feel good?”

Shizuo breath is hot at his ear before he gives a playful nip to the flesh. He can feel the way Izaya’s breath hitches, the motion going through his back and making Shizuo’s own chest thrum with something primal and satisfied.

Shizuo’s rubbing his foot against Izaya’s calf muscle, feeling the way he squirms at the touch.

“What’s wrong?” Shizuo cheeks actually hurt from how wide he’s smiling. “Do you not like it?”

Izaya’s head shakes, the action almost frantic, and Shizuo rewards him by sliding the flat of his tongue over the muscle where his neck and shoulder meet.

His skin tastes clean and fresh, and Shizuo feels his mouth salivating with the desire to bite into that milky flesh. To see it bruised dark with his claim. He holds off though, content with just feeling Izaya beneath his hands, feeling the way his breathing goes a little faster at every dip closer to that heat between his legs.

“Does it feel good when I touch here?” Shizuo brushes his fingertips over Izaya’s ribs, taking in every little shudder as he whispers into his lover’s ear. “What about when I touch here?”

Shizuo’s hands trail inwards, and Izaya’s lips are parting in a gasp as his knuckles brush against the side of his cock.

“Ah, is there someone you want me to touch you flea?”

Shizuo rubs his fingers between Izaya’s thighs just above his knees, so close and yet so far, if the little whimper that escapes his lips is any indication.

Shizuo feels like an addict. There is just something about having Izaya in his arms, squirming and desperate for his touch and just … taking his time with him.

Dragging it out nice and slow.

Shizuo continues licking and sucking at the flea’s neck. Izaya has his hand trapped between his legs in a vice grip, and yet Shizuo still continues his slow, sweet touches.

He lets his touches turn rougher, digs bruises into pale skin as he sucks harshly on that spot beneath Izaya’s ear; the spot that makes him moan open-mouthed.

“Shizuo.”

His name is like a prayer on Izaya’s lips. Breathless and needy. Shizuo doesn’t know whether he’s begging for him to stop or begging for him to keep going, either way the sound sinks deep into his gut.

“Shizuo please.”

Shizuo’s grin goes impossibly wide, mouth gaping like a predator’s with its prey in its grasp. His lips find Izaya’s earlobe. He pulls the flesh into his mouth and sucks harshly.

It’s a dizzying juxtaposition. Wrenching his hand from Izaya’s thigh-crush, Shizuo grazes the tips of fingers over the head of his cock, the softest, slowest touch all night and it makes Izaya jolt.

“Fuck.”

Shizuo sucks hard at the flea’s neck, finger tips trailing down his shaft and to his navel. He rubs at the soft flesh there, relishing in the annoyed whine that Izaya makes as he moves away from his reddened cock.

“Shizuo,” he can hear the pout in Izaya’s voice.

“Look at you,” Shizuo releases Izaya’s ear with a wet sound, “I haven’t even played with your tits yet and this worked up.”

That whine becomes louder, more painful if possible, as if Izaya’s gritting his teeth together.

“Shizuo you better fucking touch me or I’m going to destroy all your stupid bartender outfits.”

It’s astounding. Izaya’s gripping his wrist so tightly Shizuo’s sure there will be indents of his nails left behind. How is it possible for him to still sound like such a vicious little thing when he’s desperately trying to put Shizuo’s unbudging hand to his leaking cock?

“Oi,” Shizuo growls low and Izaya’s body shivers fully at the sound. “Do you want me to drown you again?”

“Heh,” Izaya lips are quirking up, eyes hooded as he speaks out like silk and satin, “if you drown me there won’t be anyone around to suck your cock.”

Shizuo should’ve expected this. Expected Izaya would try to play dirty.

He was the definition of little brat that needed to be put in their place. Still, the words make his own dick jump, and he can’t help but press his erection harder into the swell of Izaya’s ass in warning.

“Oh?” Shizuo lets his tenor lilt upwards, “you wanna suck my cock that bad flea?”

Izaya snorts, and Shizuo can’t help but rub his nose against his neck in an overly affectionate gesture.

“Hey Shizu-chan,” Izaya’s turning his face, lips meeting lips in a sweet brush as he releases his death grip on Shizuo’s wrist.

Shizuo stares into dark, deep eyes; lets himself drown as Izaya presses his forehead to his.

“Yeah flea?”

Izaya eyes close, his mouth turning soft as he gives one of those rare smiles reserved just for Shizuo.

Shizuo’s eyes slip close, Izaya in his arms and his breath spilling across his face in a steady rhythm. It’s like an abstract concept become physical, a peace that Shizuo can literally hold within his hands.

Izaya dips his head to Shizuo’s neck, lips against skin as he whispers.

“I want you to tell me how badly I want to suck your cock … while you touch me.”

Shizuo’s eyes blow wide. His smile is going predator-like before he can even realise it.

Izaya was absolutely perfect.

Shizuo pulls Izaya’s body back with his, getting comfortable as Izaya settles himself in against his hold, nuzzling into his neck. Shizuo can’t help but shower his back in soft kisses.

“You want me to talk you through it baby?” Shizuo asks, letting his voice go softer. He’s cock is aching as Izaya shivers at the pet name. He forces it to the back of his mind, focus zeroing in on the body in his arms. “You look so good right now.”

Izaya just sighs and Shizuo rewards him with a kiss to his lips. It’s chaste and sweet, with the promise of something hotter simmering just beneath the surface.

He lets his hands slide through the water and up that irresistible body once more. This time when snakes his hand downwards he palms at Izaya’s cock lightly.

“Aah,” Izaya’s lets out this little moan, relief and pleasure all in one. As if not being touched had been painful, had been torture.

“That feel good? Being touched here?” Shizuo whispers a sonnet against Izaya’s neck. His eyes are wide open, mesmerized as he palms his hand with more force against the flea’s cock.

His hot in his palm, positively boiling compared to the cooling temperate of the water surrounding them. Shizuo enjoys the feel of him in his hands. Hot and heavy. Izaya has a nice cock, it’s long, not as thick as Shizuo’s but it curves nicely and his mouth waters at the sight of it.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock … for such an ugly flea.”

Izaya actually chuckles at the underhanded compliment and Shizuo feels himself flush at the sound.

Izaya was anything but ugly.

Shizuo’s certain even the most wicked of devils would repent at the beauty of his flea.

Mine, mine, mine.

Shizuo lets his touch stay slow and steady, matching his earlier exploration of Izaya’s body. He closes his fist around the shaft experimentally, the water making his slow pull even rougher.

Izaya’s head is thrown fully back onto his shoulder now. Eyes closed as he pants open-mouthed. His hips are doing these cute little jerk, moving in time with Shizuo’s hand, and every brush of his ass against Shizuo’s cock makes him want to groan out loud.

“Look at you, I bet you’re imagining it aren’t you?” Shizuo fists the head of Izaya’s cock with the barest of pressure and the other is whimpering. “My cock in your mouth … the taste of me on your tongue.”

“Ah-ah.”

Shizuo’s pace is increasing, fist going tighter as his words climb higher.

“You look so good with your mouth stuffed with my cock, baby,” Shizuo’s whispers are turning harsh in his ears. “God you feel so good around me. So wet.”

Shizuo’s eyes are closing and he can feel it. That warm wet heat enveloping him, almost overwhelming in its sensation.

“You want it so badly don’t you? Tell me how badly you want my cock.”

“Y-yes!” Izaya’s voice comes out high pitched and desperate. “I-, I want your cock … I-I need it.”

Shizuo rubs his hard dick against the crack of Izaya’s ass, in time with the flea’s desperate thrust. His lips are wet and wide against Izaya’s neck, kisses turning careless as he sucks and bites with abandon. Izaya’s body is going taunt in his arms, toes curling against the tub, abdominals clenching so tight it almost looks painful. His body is on the edge of trembling, pulled so tight Shizuo can feel that tension almost about to snap.

“Fuck baby,” Shizuo lets his voice go rough, lets it go needy.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Shizuo gives a feral growl, Izaya’s squirming and splashing in his arms as he sets a relentless pace against his cock. Shizuo twists his fist as he pulls up, water sloshing over the sides at his frantic pace. He fists the head tightly, twisting in a way that makes Izaya keen out like he’s been kicked in the gut.

“N-need you, fuck I need you baby.”

“Ah-, ah-, Shizuo!”

Shizuo’s desperation sends Izaya over the edge. The body in his arms tenses, like an electric current is running through it and then he’s shaking apart, moaning long and loud as Shizuo strokes him through his orgasm, never letting up as his cock spurts white into water.

He keeps stroking him. Izaya’s breathing is ragged as he collapses boneless atop Shizuo.

Eventually he slows his motions, letting his hand come to a steady stop as he feels all the little aftershocks shivering through the body in his arms. Izaya’s eyes are closed and Shizuo thinks he might have fucked him stupid.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Oi,” Shizuo presses a kiss to Izaya’s temple. “Don’t fall asleep flea.”

Shizuo can’t keep the smile out his voice. He has literal perfection in his arms, had that same perfection coming and calling out his name. His heart feels fit to burst…

His cock definitely is.

“Mm, Shizu-chan is such a sadist,” Izaya finally mumbles a response. He sounds dazed, like he’s intoxicated and on the verge of blacking out.

“Guess it’s a good thing you’re such a masochist then, huh?” Shizuo says between kisses to the smattering of stars over Izaya’s shoulder.

“Hmm,” Izaya’s eyes are cracking open, staring unseeing at the ceiling as he brushes a hand through the water absentmindedly. “The bath is dirty now.”

Shizuo snorts, “and who made it dirty, louse?”

“Shizu-chan should take responsibility, after all, it’s all his fault,” Izaya quips back, turning to press a smirk into Shizuo’s neck.

“Youbetter take responsibility,” Shizuo grumbles, pressing his still raging erection against Izaya’s backside in case he’d somehow forgotten about it.

Unlikely.

“But I’m tired,” Izaya whines pathetically, and Shizuo half kind of wants to drown him again. “Shizu-chan’s torture was relentless!”

Shizuo chuckles at that, the deep sound vibrating through his chest and into Izaya’s back.

“Surprised you just didn’t slip it in mid torture,” Izaya lilts with his usually vulgarity and yeah Shizuo should definitely drown him.

“Too tired,” Shizuo deadpans, “you do some work flea.”

“Heh, be careful what you wish for Shizu-chan.”

They end up in bed, barely dry as Izaya’s swallows down Shizuo’s cock like a man starving. Shizuo’s exhausted, splayed out on the bed as he hovers blissfully between the edge of sleep and the pleasure of Izaya’s hot mouth wrapped around him.

It doesn’t take long for him to come. Not long until he’s body is shaking apart and he’s calling Izaya’s name. He trembles as Izaya sucks him dry of every, last, drop.

Shizuo feels hazy, his skin hypersensitive from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He’s drifting off to sleep, Izaya snuggling in beside him and pulling the blanket up.

“Shizu-chan has tomorrow off, right?” Izaya asks innocently, and Shizuo thinks he brushes his hand through the flea’s hair but he’s not quite sure in his half-awake daze.

“Yeah.”

“Will Shizu-chan make me breakfast?”

Shizuo’s eyes are slipping closed again, the sight of Izaya tucked under his arm and snuggling into his neck the last thing he sees.

“Yeah flea,” he’s mumbling in his sleep, “do … anything…”

#shizaya #orihara izaya #heiwajima shizuo #writing request #fanfic request #oneshot #drrr #durarara #orihara izaya x heiwajima shizuo #please read tags carefully #fluff #self-care day #this was so fun too write

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