#hm i could have sworn his name was green...

[pelipper]

Blue out here catching strays 😭

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

The Good Queen (Part 3)

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I won’t apologize for everyone being gay for each other)

Tag: hotd the good queen

Warning: Fluff. Angst. Time-skip. Happy ending. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Blood & Gore. Grusome death.

Word Count: 7,011

Taglist: @gruffle1​ 

Summary: A look into Queen Y/n Hightower’s life is busy and full of love and family. But something else lingers in the dark, waiting for her.

Author’s Note: Laena still dies but under different circumstances and Aemond claims Vhagar honorably. Rhaena and Baela do not exist so everyone is proud of Aemond by his accomplishment and he doesn’t steal the right to Vhagar from anyone.

Part One - Part Two

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

130 AC

So much to do with so little time to enjoy the beautiful day, Queen Y/n Hightower makes her rounds about the castle after breaking her fast. As usual, she walks gracefully down the long hallways and winding staircases, entering the throne room to extend her greetings to her husband before starting her day. She climbs the stairs to the Iron Throne and leaves a kiss on Viserys lips before briefly exchanging their morning agendas. As usual, they speak mostly of their children. The Queen speaks of the planned events for Helaena's upcoming name day while the King mentions the many lords who have reached out to him to ask for Helaena's hand. Y/n appeared hesitant but further asked her husband to send these letters up to her chambers when he has the chance so she might look into these suitors as well.

"They may try to woo her during the celebration," he warns her lightheartedly, "Best to warn her so she is not overwhelmed."

"I shall," Y/n stands from her seat on Viserys' knee, cupping his face in her hand before she makes her departure, "I'll see you at supper."

"Hm. I'm afraid I have to take supper in the Small Council meeting tonight," the King smiles apologetically, "But you are welcome to join. I could use your sharp eyes on the matter of the meeting."

"Not tonight," Y/n sighs at the idea of another council meeting. They appear to be more crucial than naught these days, "If it would please you, my love, allow me to rummage through all the letters of liege lords addressing Helaena's hand. I'll invite Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Alicent for supper tonight in my apartments and use their opinions to narrow down the pool of suitors."

"Excellent idea," Viserys beamed, quickly grasping her hand and kissing her knuckles before she could turn away, "I wish you luck."

She descends the Iron Throne and exits the throne room, nodding to her ladies-in-waiting when she found them still in the spot where she had left them. They dutifully follow her as she expertly navigates through the long hallways of the castle, bowing her head and smiling whenever someone stopped and bowed to her in greeting. She stops in the training yard before all else and immediately spots Ser Criston Cole overseeing a training session between Aegon the Elder and his cousin, Jacaerys Strong. She glides down the steps and makes her way to the sworn shield, "What shall they be learning today, Ser Criston?"

"Mostly defensive maneuvers, Your Grace," Cole bows, but is unable to draw his eyes away from the fight in case he missed something, "Aegon has improved since his return from Oldtown. Do give your lord father my compliments. Whoever he had training the boy during his stay must have been quite exceptional."

"I shall," she finds herself repeating a second time, to her inner amusement. Her shoulders began to feel tight with the reminder of Otto Hightower.

When he first started writing letters to his eldest daughter, it was to reach out and learn about his grandchildren. Y/n should have felt relief to learn that her father was wanting to mend their relationship. Instead, she only felt this cold dread in her heart when she learned that he had only written to her and not to Alicent, who was also his daughter and had given him an equal number of grandchildren. Y/n tried to be courteous and kind to her father in any returning letter she sent, and yet each one he replied with felt more like a stone crushing her against the sea bed, despite feeling the light weight of the paper in her hands. Eventually, Lord Otto requested to host his oldest grandchild, Aegon, in Oldtown. His reasoning was for personal reasons only; to make up for lost time and congratulate Aegon on becoming a man. Otto also stated that perhaps it would be good for both Aegon and Daeron to reunite again as brothers. Y/n had hesitated before finally agreeing, despite the memories she had of her father when Aegon was first born. She remembered Lord Otto trying to force her hand, telling her how to raise her sweet, innocent son into becoming a king.

She gave her father the benefit of the doubt. That had been years ago and she agreed that Aegon deserved to see his little brother again, her own ache to see Daeron the deciding factor on this arrangement. She sent Aegon to Oldtown, promising him that it would only be for the season. Her inner demons wished to demand her eldest child to steal Daeron away as well, but forced the words down and bury them as she hugged Aegon tightly. Now Aegon has finally returned -and not with Daeron- just before Helaena's name day. The Queen watched her son easily defend himself against Lord Jacaerys' advances, feeling proud and yet in turmoil over how mature he's become. Her children really were growing up before her eyes.

She nods to Ser Criston, "I'm sure he would be proud to hear you say that, ser knight. Excuse me."

"Your Grace."

Next, she makes her way to the gardens, taking a moment to stand in the warm sunlight with the soft breeze brushing through her hair like a loving touch. The Queen takes her time winding through the maze of flowers and trimmed hedges until she comes across the gazebo stationed at the center of all the plants. Her sister, Lady Alicent Strong, is seated under the shade of the gazebo, Little Aegon in her lap while Little Viserys crawls around at her feet, her hand gently grazing the woman sitting beside her.

Princess Rhaenyra, heavily pregnant with her third child, is the first to notice Y/n when she neared the gazebo, and smiles at her stepmother, "Good morning, Your Grace."

Alicent looks up and immediately finds Y/n, only pulling her hand away from Rhaenyra when she noticed the Queen's handmaidens trailing behind her. Y/n nods as she approached the two women, "It certainly is, Princess," her fingers briefly push a strand of Alicent's hair out of her face before leaning down and kissing her cheek in greeting, "Ali. Jacaerys is faring well in his training, I see."

"If only he was doing well in his studies," Alicent quips with a gentle smile as she stares up at her elder sister, who takes Aegon from her arms and rests him on her hip, "What brings you here?"

"I am here to invite the two of you to a private supper tonight," Y/n tickles Aegon the Younger under his chin, smiling as he squealed with laughter, though it doesn't reach her eyes as she spoke of her troubles, "I have letters from various lords of the realm who wish to wed Helaena and I could use your help reading through them all, as well as getting a second and third opinion."

"Of course," Alicent beams, although Rhaenyra doesn't seem as thrilled.

"Helaena is still too young to be thinking about marriage," she immediately replies, a frown cutting through her beautiful Valyrian features. She is distracted by her thoughts, however, when Little Viserys pulls himself up onto his chubby feet using her skirts. Her hand brushes his silver hair back, the toddler cooing under her attention.

"She's near one-and-twenty, Rhaenyra," Y/n appeared downcast, even as she smiled down at her stepdaughter and squeezed her shoulder in comfort, "You were even younger. We all were. We've been holding this back for long enough. We can't keep her forever."

The Queen knelt down to the princess' round stomach, peering up at Rhaenyra with an encouraging twinkle in her eye, "Besides, pretty soon you'll have a daughter of your own to fret over."

Rhaenyra faintly smiled, running a hand over her stomach even as clouds formed in her eyes. She had always wanted a sister and finally got what she wanted when her father married Y/n and they bore Helaena. Rhaenyra was always so protective of her little half-sister, even more so than the brothers, "You speak in confidence. And yet Alicent believes I'm having a boy."

"You look no different than when you carried Little Aegon and Viserys," Alicent comments in defense of her opinion when Y/n glanced over to her.

"We'll make wages tonight then, at dinner," Y/n smirked at her sister, briefly glancing back at Rhaenyra and winking. The Queen sets Aegon down next to his brother and stands up straight again, nodding to the other two, "Until then, my sweets."

"Good day, Your Grace," Rhaenyra chimes while Y/n disappears from the gazebo, her ladies keeping their heads low as they follow her.

She trails through the gardens with her usual company in tow, wishing to waste a little time if it meant she could enjoy the lovely, quiet day. That is until the peace is suddenly interrupted by the loud, high-pitched laughter of a small child. Looking around, Her Grace tried pinpointing the laughter, which now followed shouts of disapproval, until she discovers Little Joffrey Strong, the small boy running through the gardens while being chased by his septa, dark curls bouncing as he sprinted. Y/n laughs under her breath and decides not to intervene, knowing that not even she could save her little nephew from his strict teacher. The Queen shushes her handmaids when they all began to giggle at the sight, and with a smile, directs them to exit the gardens quietly until they are out of sight of the poor, winded, septa. The ladies all bow to their queen and go on about their day, leaving Y/n alone to her thoughts as she walks back into the castle.

The library is the next stop on her to-do list, allowing the guards to open the heavy doors for her before entering the grand room, full of books from top to ceiling. However, she didn't find herself alone as she originally thought. At the nearest table were none other than her son, Aemond and Lucerys Strong, playing a competitive game of cyvasse. Both young men look up at the sound of the library doors opening and stand to greet her when they recognized her face.

"Mother," Aemond thinly smiles, his eye lowering in respect.

"Who is winning?" She smirks as she glides across the floor to join them, her fingers pinching the sleeve of Aemond's tunic as she practically stood in the shadow of his tall form.

"Currently me, Your Grace," Luke's eyes sparkle mischievously, his smile only broadening when Aemond directs a small glare at him.

Y/n rolls her lips to try to retain the growing smile of amusement before crossing over to the board game, peering over either side of the divider so she can see both sides of their placements. Turning and walking away, she calls over her shoulder, "Careful, nephew. If he's smart, Aemond can defeat you in two moves."

She hears scuffling and squawks of surprise from behind her as she disappeared beyond the bookcases, smiling to herself. She travels through the small aisles between shelves until she finds what she's looking for, picking up a book to her liking and dusting off the worn cover. Tucking the leather book under her arm, she makes her way back through the maze of books until she stumbles across her son and nephew again. Y/n ruffles Luke's hair, earning another squawk of indignant from him and causing Aemond to hum in amusement under his breath, much similar to his mother. Y/n beams and walks out of the library and onto her next destination.

Walking back up the winding stairs to reach the floor of her daughter's chambers was an easy feat, having gone the same way for years since Helaena's birth. Today, however, Y/n's feet felt heavy as she inched closer to the princess' room. Her steps felt like lead by the time she reached her daughter's door, knocking and announcing herself before entering.

"My heart?" Y/n called into the room as she shut the door behind her.

Helaena had her knees up to her chest, lounging over her couch by the window, heavily focused on the embroidery in her hands. Y/n walked closer and recognized the pattern to be a dragonfly. The mother smiled as she goes to sit in the open space of her daughter's couch, relaxing her regal posture as she leaned back against the cushions, sighing in exhaustion as she watches Helaena work.

Their days together are often spent like this, in silence but in comfort. Helaena isn't fond of loud noises, touches, or even conversation, so Y/n respects her boundaries and tends not to force her daughter into such situations unless absolutely necessary. This is why guilt and shame settled uncomfortably in the Queen's gut, the weight of letters regarding a future husband for her lovely daughter heavy before Y/n could even read them herself. Even though she had not seen the letters in person yet, they still lingered in the back of her mind, dreading the conversation that will have to happen, and the celebrations of her name day that Helaena will have to attend.

"Has your uncle stopped by for your lessons?" Y/n suddenly asked, realizing that she had not seen Daemon at all this morning.

Helaena paused in her ministrations but continues to stare at her embroidery as she answered, "He left early. Kostōba vali emagon kostōba ondos." [Strong men have strong hands]

Though the Queen herself was not fluent in High Valyrian, she has spent enough time in the company of Daemon and Rhaenyra to catch a few words. Y/n tilts her head, suspicious, "Does 'kostōba' mean 'strong?'"

Helaena only nods as she continues her work, unaware of the playful roll of her eyes her mother presents. Y/n sinks further into the lounge chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. One of these days, she'll have to reprimand her brother-in-law for leaving his niece and depriving her of Valyrian lessons only so he could sneak off with Ser "Breakbones" Strong.

"My daughter's mother tongue should be more important than the need to stick your tongue down Ser Harwin's throat," Y/n could already hear her own lecture in her head, to which she can imagine Daemon's sly smirk gleaming down at her in response.

"Have you seen Ser Harwin's throat, dear sister?"

Y/n scoffs out loud and had the decency to appear bashful when she realized that Helaena had heard her. She flashed her daughter an apologetic smile when the princess looked up, but it slowly faded once Helaena looked back down, the Queen was sorely reminded of the main topic of today's events. Sighing, Y/n reached a hand out to Helaena, "My dear, may I touch you?"

Helaena immediately went stiff as a board, to which Y/n retracted her hand, "Okay, I'm sorry," she whispered, guilt now evident in her eyes, not that Helaena had noticed as she continues with her embroidery. It only made her mother feel worse, the woman who once loved her innocence but now felt saddened by it. Helaena is a woman grown now, and it was still hard for Y/n to wrap her head around. How can something so pure grow up so fast? Just trying to picture her daughter in the care of a man whom she has never met frightened her; haunted her even. Y/n, as Queen, understands that this is the way of things and no matter how hard she tried, there are just some things far beyond her control, like her daughter's impending marriage. It will happen eventually, whether Y/n Hightower likes it or not.

Originally, she came to Helaena to talk about these matters but decided she wanted her child to remain innocent just a little bit longer. Instead, Y/n set the book from the library down on the table across from the couch and slid it over to Helaena, "This was a book that I read years ago... before I married your father. It's about these rare butterflies native to the islands of Naath. They carry a disease that is deadly to anyone who isn't born and bred from their natural habitats," Y/n huffs in mirth, mostly to herself, "I remember that imagery kept me awake at night, but I thought this would be more to your liking."

Helaena had paused her embroidery upon her mother's explanation. The princess peers over to the book with faint interest and reaches out to caress the symbol of the butterfly engraved into the front cover, "Thank you, Mother."

Y/n beams, feeling her heart skip a beat at the sound of her most proud title. Even as her children grow into adults, she still feels her heart melt every time they call her by her true name. Aegon says it as if he mocks it, but in a playful way. Aemond says it with respect and admiration and with a hint of a smile. Helaena says it softly, like a butterfly's wing. And Daeron...

The Queen quickly shuts her thoughts down and rises from the couch, patting the cushion closest to Helaena's foot, "I'll leave you to it then. If you miss dinner, I'll make sure a meal is sent up to you."

She moves around the furniture and heads toward the door.

"Mother."

Y/n looks back, smiling patiently as she waits for Helaena to continue.

The young princess doesn't look up from her new book, speaking in riddles as she often does. But today, her riddle felt haunting, almost like a warning, "A sire wishes to breathe fire. Fire burns to skin, and his eldest breeds it."

Puzzled as she often is by Helaena's riddles, Y/n tries not to let it bother her. Over the years, she had learned to stop asking Helaena what she means and has stopped trying to understand her. Sometimes, even Helaena appears confused by what her own words mean. When she started saying these riddles, Viserys took it as a sign that she was a dragon dreamer, much like himself. Daemon had rolled his eyes and had started an argument with his brother for the sake of an argument, so Y/n never try to investigate further what her husband meant.  

Instead of asking her to reiterate, Y/n only nods to Helaena before leaving the room, taking a longer route toward her own apartments so that she might have a little more to walk and think alone. The time it takes for her to get to her chambers is peaceful and the hallways are empty except for the occasional maid walking in or out of rooms to fetch or retrieve clothes or food. Ser Harrold Westerling is waiting outside of Y/n's room when she arrives, and after he opens the door for her, the Queen turns back to him, "You may leave, Ser Harrold. Please see to it that no one bothers the Princess Helaena while she reads."

"At once, Your Grace," Harrold bows and marches down the hall, and Y/n closes the door behind her.

A late afternoon nap was in order, but Y/n knew better than to try when she still had so much to do. Looking around, she found the stacks of letters she had asked the King for and crossed the room to the table. She picks up one of the letters, inspected the contents, and made out the name Prince Qoren Martell.

"Absolutely not," Y/n found herself talking out loud, laughing at the gall of House Martell. She decided that all suitors she didn't approve of will have their letters burned immediately so her husband would not see them, lest he tried to marry their daughter off without her knowledge. She sauntered over to the hearth and watched the letter burn in the small flames, still amused but faintly disgusted at the idea of Helaena being sent to Dorne. The embers of the hearth appeared to mock her, the andirons; the two tall bracket spikes supporting the logs from falling into the room were shaped suspiciously like a Sunspeare. Y/n doesn't try to think about how her andirons were probably forged in Dorne and instead focused on watching the letter burn.

She hears rustling behind her and turned to face the maid she expected to find. Instead, a knife is pressed into her neck, and a hand grips tightly onto her arm. Y/n lets out a squeak of shock, reflexes kicking in as her free hand tries to push the knife away from her. The attacker is male, close to her own height, and reeked of filth. He doesn't demand or restrain her, instead, he speaks in grunts and growls as he fights with every intention of killing her.

"HELP! GUARDS!" Y/n screams at the top of her lungs once her brain had caught up with her body, still trying to push the dagger out of the way. He pushed back with equal strength and determination, with Y/n's own adrenaline turning quickly into fear and causing her arms to tremble. Her breaths quicken as she can feel herself slowly go into shock, limbs heavy and slowly giving into the weight of the knife. At one point, she tried to pull away and run when her legs began to feel like jelly, but her attacker had a hold of one of her arms, so she had no choice but to continue to fight for her life. As they both spun in this twisted dance, Y/n quickly realized that the hearth now stood directly behind her attacker. Sucking in a deep breath with every bit of strength she had left, she shoved the man hard, even trying to place her foot behind his to trip him for added measure.

The man falls, knife sliding like butter down Y/n's forearm in the descent. Before the assassin could place his hands behind him to stop his fall, his head hits the mantle above the hearth and he crumbles in pain, forgetting to fight against gravity as his body drops into the hearth. His neck, unfortunately, lands right on top of one of the andiron spikes, spearing through flesh and bone. He spits out blood, gurgling, choking on the red liquid as he slowly realizes he was trapped with his head sticking directly into the flames. As he spat out blood, his whole body convulsed and writhed in response to his entire head beginning to catch fire, unable to escape with his neck completely skewered onto the spike. His eyebrows turned to ash, and his skin began to blister and melt, his body twitched and kicked for freedom, even as the heat of the flames forced his skin to sizzle and pop like a boar on a spit. The smell was unbearable as Y/n quickly steps away, only to fall to her knees on the floor when she found no strength left, tears uncontrollably rolling down her face. All she could do was cling to her injured arm and watch, horrified, as her attacker's body slowly stopped fighting, going limp as the fire somehow burned brighter. The Queen tried gasping for air, her entire body shaking out of fear and pain just as the doors burst open to reveal the Kingsguard.

"My Queen!" Harrold Westerling had returned, immediately running to Y/n's side while his men inspect the scene before them. Ser Harrold guides her to the nearest furniture and inspects Her Majesty's injuries while a maester was called forward. Between the bustling of the guards and the shouting involved, other residents of the castle began to stir with all this commotion.

The first to arrive was Alicent, with Rhaenyra slowly following her in her condition. Alicent looked around the room, horrified by the man lying dead in the fireplace before she scanned the apartments and quickly found her sister, "Y/n!"

She rushed over to the Queen, gathering her up in her arms as they both wept in fright and relief. Rhaenyra excused Ser Harrold from attending Y/n so that she may sit on the other side of her stepmother and hold her close. The Grand Maester finally arrived and quickly made good, efficient work on the Queen's arm as Daemon marched into the room, sneering at the scene of the crime. He looked as though he wished to spit onto the dead body before releasing his anger elsewhere.

"Who was meant to be on watch here?! Who failed to protect the Queen?!"

"It was me, Prince Daemon," Ser Harrold bowed his head in shame.

Daemon only takes two steps towards the knight before Y/n finally found her words, even as she stumbles over them, "N-No, Daemon! It was not his fault! I... I... I ordered him to go tend to Helaena. I made him leave his station."

Her brother-in-law relents after a while of the two of them staring down one another, stepping away from Ser Harrold and moving to stand behind the three women on the couch, "Has my brother been informed? Is someone with him?"

"Ser Criston is guarding the King, my prince. He's on his way."

"Mother?" Aegon calls out from the doorway, only walking into the room when the sea of knights part for him to see the Queen alive and well. Jace also walks in with him, leading his father, Ser Harwin, to inspect the scene for himself.

"I did not realize I was hosting in my chambers," Y/n muttered under her breath, wincing when the maester added yet another stitch to the cut. However, her irritation melts away when her eldest son approached her, reaching out to him with her free hand, "I'm alright, my sweet. Have you seen your brother and sister?"

"Your daughter is safe in her room, Your Grace," Ser Harrold cut in, "I left a guard with her."

"And Aemond? Last I saw, he was in the library with Lucerys."

"I'll go get them," Harwin volunteered after a pleading gaze from his lady-wife Alicent. He quickly heads towards the door only to stop short and bow as Viserys finally enters, his cane trembling in support of him.

"What is the meaning of this?" The King demands as everyone bows in his presence, all except his family members sitting on or surrounding the couch. Viserys turns to his family, inspecting each of their expressions before settling on his queen, "And why is my wife bleeding?"

"There was an assassination attempt, Your Grace," Ser Harrold quickly reports with a ramrod back. Ser Harwin finally leaves the room after nodding to his father and Ser Criston when they entered the Queen's chambers. Hand of the King, Lord Lyonel Strong, steps up to stand beside the King, appalled and worried.

"An assassin? How is this possible?" He questions.

"I did not recognize his face," Y/n answers, her voice now stronger with her family surrounding her. Her back straightens and she now looks onto Lord Lyonel with the fierceness of a queen once more, "I pride myself in knowing every staff member in my employment, and I have never seen that man before in my life."

"It will be hard to identify him now, Your Grace," Ser Harrold continues to address Viserys while also moving aside to show the King the horrifying sight of the death. Viserys' eyes widen at the body stuck in the hearth from the neck up. He looks at his wife and then back to the body, affronted and speechless. In this time of the King taking it all in, Ser Harwin returns with Prince Aemond and Lord Lucerys, both young men striding across the room to join their respective family members. Aemond stands beside his older brother, standing over their mother as he inspects her appearance with only his single eye. He didn't speak a word, and yet confessed he was afraid by looks alone.

Alicent felt the need to stand and pace, and by doing so, caught a glimpse of the dead body and noticed, to her horror, his attire, "He wears our house colors," turning back to her older sister, Alicent recognized the equal shock spreading over Y/n's face, "Could this man be from Oldtown?"

Y/n's shoulders fall, a faint look of acceptance written in her sad eyes, "If so... then there could only be one prime suspect who resides there."

The room is filled with mutters of both surprise and indifference, depending on who you talk to. Some, like the Kingsguard, are appalled by this revelation, some, like Daemon, know it to be true and their eyes darken. Others, like Lord Lyonel and Lady Alicent, are in a state of disbelief.

Alicent even voices her disbelief as she shakes her head, "Father would never do something like this. Why would he want you dead if you're married to the King?"

"Because Father's wish wasn't for me to marry the King, it was for his blood to one day sit on the Iron Throne," Y/n stated boldly, loudly, to make sure everyone in the room heard it and accept it, "When I pledged my loyalty to Rhaenyra's right as Viserys' heir, Father's plans were ruined."

Rhaenyra squeezed Y/n's knee in comfort and the room stirred with this bit of information. Viserys grinds his teeth while glaring at the floor, enraged by the gall of his former Hand.

"A sire wishes to breathe fire. Fire burns to skin, and his eldest breeds it."

All eyes turn to the door of the room, where Princess Helaena now stood, half hiding away as all eyes turn to her. Y/n's worries all float away as her face softens at the sight of her daughter, smiling in encouragement, "Yes... that's what you meant, my heart. You tried to warn me."

"If Father is responsible for this attack, then he risks himself becoming a traitor to the crown," Alicent interrupts, her voice low in anger, "He should be punished immediately."

Viserys huffs out a large, enraged sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Maester. Once you are done attending to the Queen, please inspect the body. I will have the Kingsguard bring the corpse down to the dungeons and you may meet them there."

"Of course, Your Grace."

"Ser Harrold," Viserys broadens his voice, the man in question straightening to attention at the power of it, "I demand the arrest of Lord Otto Hightower. Send out a regiment to Oldtown to obtain him and bring him back to King's Landing."

"Your Grace," Ser Harrold bows and vacates the room.

"Ser Criston," Viserys turns to the younger knight, "Remain outside the Queen's room tonight."

"At once, Your Grace."

"Half of you bring the body down to the dungeons," the old man orders the remaining Kingsguard, "The rest of you follow me. I will summon the court and address the crime at hand."

"You mean to warn them of your interrogation into their treachery?" Daemon questions with a sly glare, appalled.

"Treachery?" Viserys appeared affronted at his younger brother, scoffing in disbelief.

"Someone inside the castle must have helped, my love," Y/n decided to cut in before another spat between brothers could begin within her chambers, "I do not believe my father acted alone in this attack. I believe he had help from someone on the inside. Only someone with the proper knowledge of the castle and my whereabouts could have instructed the assassin on where to go and when to strike. No doubt whoever this traitor is had hired the attacker using Lord Otto's coin."

The maester had finished Y/n's stitches and stood to instruct the Kingsguard on how to remove the body without tampering with it. Roughly five Kingsguard managed to lift the corpse off the sharp andiron and pull it out of the fire without distressing the skull from its shoulders. The Queen keeps her eyes fixed on her husband, refusing to even glimpse at the body of her attacker. Viserys former dismissal relents, his shoulders slouching as he nods in agreement. The body is removed from Y/n's chambers and with it follows a parade of Kingsguard along with the Grand Maester. Viserys waited for them all to leave before also exiting with Lord Lyonel, mentioning under his breath of a secret council meeting.

The room grows silent, the rest of the royal family sitting uncomfortably, unnerved by the situation. Y/n's mind is buzzing, her thoughts running from her attacker... to Oldtown, to her father, and then to Daeron. Dread freezes in her chest, worry for her youngest child taking place.

"Daemon," Y/n stands up, feeling the strength of her legs again as she rounds the couch in a flurry of skirts, stepping up to her good brother. She makes sure to stare directly up into his eyes, unwavering, as she carefully spoke her next words, "I wonder if you would be so kind as to take your dragon to Oldtown and bring me back my son?"

Mischief sparkled dimly in Daemon's war-aged eyes, a corner of his lips slowly turned up as he feigns innocence with the tilt of his head, "Not by horse, Your Grace? Surely, you wouldn't want your lord father to feel insulted by the mere threat of a dragon."

A playful taunt that she would normally meet, but the Queen's mind remains fixed on her baby boy. Her words are blunt and powerful compared to the stutter she had possessed earlier, "Perhaps I would like him to feel insulted by the mere presence of your company."

She leans into her brother-in-law's space, taking both of her hands and gripping onto one of his forearms. She lowers her voice so that only he could hear the rest, "Go. I don't care what you do, or how you do it, just bring me back my son alive."

He schooled his features, emotions neutral while firmly nodding once down to her, "Yes, Your Grace."

Daemon breaks from her hold on him and cross to the door before Aemond began to follow him, "I'll accompany you, Uncle."

Y/n quickly steps towards her second son, reaching for him, "I do not wish that, Aemond--

"It's alright, dear sister," she turns to Daemon's voice, "Vhagar and Caraxes will definitely be a sight your father will remember for the rest of his miserable years... or whatever time he has left."

The grave promise in his tone may have felt intimidating to some, but it was strangely a comfort to the Queen. Aemond grasps her elbow in comfort, forcing her to look up at him. Glancing between her son and Daemon, she eventually surrenders with a stern expression as she narrows her gaze onto Aemond, "Fine. But you do what Daemon says and you do not fight. Promise me."

"I promise, Mother," Aemond whispers gently to her, "I'll bring Daeron home for you."

He pulls out of his mother's grip and saunters over to join his uncle at the door. Daemon nods to Rhaenyra before exiting from her sight. Aemond takes one look back at his family, narrowing his sight onto his older brother. He tilts his head in question and Aegon only shakes his head in rejection. He will not join the hunt. Aemond nods with understanding, a silent conversation only two brothers can share, before he, too, leaves. Aegon turns back to his mother, dutifully placing himself at her side, "What would you have me do, Mother?"

"Stay with Helaena in her chambers tonight," she instructs him with a warm smile, cupping his face in her hands, meeting his eyes as they stood the same height, "I would feel comforted knowing neither of you would be left alone for the time being."

"We can all stay together, Aunt," Jace mentions with a smile of reassurance, "All the children. We'll have the wet nurses bring Little Aegon and Viserys to Princess Helaena's room and we can keep each other company until we know everything is safe again."

"I'll go find Joffrey," Luke volunteers, springing up and disappearing from the room.

"Very well," Y/n laughs under her breath, amused by Luke's lack of courtesy before gently patting the side of Aegon's face, "Will that please you, my dear? Will you and Jace watch over your siblings and cousins until we apprehend the people involved in this attack?"

"We'll make it a celebration, Mother," Aegon comforts her, "As to not worry the smaller ones."

"Thank you, my sweet child," Y/n whispers, feeling lighter when she watches the remainder of the children leave, though it was getting harder and harder to recognize them as children when the older ones are nearly fully grown and so responsible.

The room remains occupied by Y/n, Alicent, Rhaenyra, and Ser Harwin, the latter noticing the way the Queen chewed on her bottom lip while in thought as she began pacing the room, "What is it?"

"I wish to know who among our court would want me dead, and if their intentions have any motive behind hiring my attacker."

"If the assassin had lived, we could have questioned him," Harwin had commented.

"Not likely," Queen Y/n shook her head, "The maester may confirm this, but I believe the attacker's tongue might have been cut out prior to assaulting me. I remember he never spoke a word, only making pained noises and grunting. Whoever helped him into the castle was more careful than my father. Whoever they are, they covered their tracks."

~~~~~~~~~

It was well into the next day and yet none of them left Y/n's side. They had all stayed up the entire night, debating on what to do next as the Queen anxiously waited for news from Oldtown. To try and distract her, both Alicent and Rhaenyra offered to assist in looking through the letters asking for Helaena's hand in marriage. The three women had done so until morning, with Harwin standing guard inside the room and Ser Criston guarding outside of it.

Ser Criston had yet to be informed of Daemon and Aemond's return when they all heard the familiar roars of Caraxes and Vhagar flying overhead, even shaking the floor of Y/n's chambers. The Queen abruptly stood from her chair, running to her balcony to spot the two dragons for herself. However, they had flown directly to the Dragonpit and they were now too far for Y/n to see who sat on top of their mounts. Anxious to see the riders with her own two eyes, the Queen sprinted out of her chambers, barely acknowledging the others shouting her name behind her. She knew for a fact that Ser Harwin and Criston were running after her, but Alicent and Rhaenyra's voices faded away, not following Y/n, most likely because of the princess' round stomach.

Y/n paid no mind to courtesy or manners as she ran through the halls of the castle, not even nodding her head whenever a servant or lord stopped to bow in greeting her. She even kicked off her shoes, grace be damned, so that she may pick up her skirts and take two steps at a time down the winding staircases.

By the time she ordered guards to open the doors of the Red Keep, the front gates were slowly rising. Y/n bounded down the steps of the courtyard, finally stopping to catch her breath as she anxiously waits for whoever to come through. Daemon entered first, followed by his nephew. Aemond, however, was occupied with another silver-haired individual, the older brother playfully shoving a younger boy forward.

Although upon looking at him, Y/n could hardly describe him as a boy. Daeron, and the age of six and ten, was technically a man grown, though he could never possibly reach the same height as Aemond or Daemon. He always kept his traditional Targaryen hair short, at least to his shoulders, and Y/n's eyes briefly squinted at the green-colored apparel her youngest son wore before quickly forgetting about it, her smile uncomfortably stretching as her eyesight began to blur.

Daeron had kept his gaze on the Queen, even as the front gates closed behind them. The courtyard was still until the young prince stepped forward, his own smile smaller than Y/n's but it was one of relief and shyness, "Hello, Mother."

She broke after that, huffs of laughter under her breath as joyful tears ran down her face. Y/n opened up her arms and Daeron dutifully fell into them, hiding into her shoulder as his mother hugged him tightly, shaking with relief.

~~~~~~~~~

"Has Daeron comfortably moved back in?" Viserys asked his wife that following night, both of them sitting at the corner of the Small Council table, alone.

"Yes. Although I wouldn't be surprised if we found him in one of his sibling's rooms the next morning," Y/n smiled fondly behind the lip of her wine glass, "Aemond said that he was thrilled to be coming home. Apparently, he hated Oldtown."

"And your father? What has become of him?"

Y/n's smile falls, immediately avoiding her husband's gaze as she carefully swirls the wine in her goblet, watching the small whirlpool instead of the King's reaction, "I don't know. I didn't bother to ask."

Viserys sighed, all too well acquainted with Daemon's temper and his opinion of Lord Otto, "Well, my men will be there in a few days and they will make do with what is left of Otto Hightower."

The Queen sets her goblet on the table and leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers against the arms, "Perhaps Daemon chose mercy. Perhaps he wished to surprise us and soon the Kingsguard will bring my father back alive and whole."

It was a comforting thought, but Viserys only huffed in amusement, "Knowing my brother, I wouldn't get your hopes up, my dear."

They both laugh from their chests, even if there wasn't much mirth behind it. They settle back into a comfortable silence again, while a thought comes to Viserys' mind. It pleases him, and he outwardly shows with the broad, toothless smile he gifts his wife, "You know... even though you're kind and caring, you're also fierce and harsh. Those are tremendous qualities, my love, that not many can possess. Did you know what the smallfolk call you? The Good Queen. My grandmother, Queen Alysanne, was also nicknamed the Good Queen."

Her curious expression slowly melts into a fond smile, allowing Viserys to continue as he sets down his own wine goblet, "It's an honorable title, perhaps more honorable than just being a King or Queen. It goes to show that you are well-loved and you are good at what you do... I often wonder what would happen to this kingdom and this family without you, especially after nearly losing you last night."

Y/n's heart squeezes in her chest, touched by her husband's words. Eyebrows furrowed and lips turned up, the Queen looked over at Viserys with sympathy as she reached her hand over to grasp his, holding it tight, "Best not to dwell on it, my King."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: It took me an embarrassing long time to realize I was spelling ‘Jacaerys’ wrong. I blame Rhaenyra for giving her son such a difficult name.

I hope you’ve enjoyed! This will likely be the last part of ‘The Good Queen’ since I don’t think it really needs to be a series. It’s bad enough that I have three other series that need updating. Please leave a request in my pm or ask box!

Inspiration for this chapter HERE

[adidastain]

only time will tell

90s matt stone x fem reader (grace)

warnings: none

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 1881

—

“Hey.”

I heard a low voice whisper. I felt a small nudge on my shoulder.

All I saw was red until I opened my eyes. The soft pattering of the rain against the car I was in, paired with my physical exhaustion must have lulled me to sleep.

I looked at Matt, next to me in the driver’s seat. He looked pretty tired too, but remained nonetheless focused on the road in front of him as the stoplight switched to green.

“How long was I asleep?” I mumbled, adjusting my position.

“Five minutes maybe,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you up, but we’re almost to your place.”

I hummed in response. It seemed like he had more to say, but he barely even blinked. I stared at his side profile for a moment, taking in how the red brake lights in front of us lit up his face.

“This is the long way to my place,” I stated, sitting up. I was wide awake now. My hand absentmindedly moved to turn on the radio.

“I know,” Matt said, sighing slightly.

“You just wanna hang out with me more. That’s why you woke me up with all of ten minutes left of the drive,” I snickered. The idea of him secretly wanting to spend more time with me made me feel slightly giddy.

I always thought Matt was pretty cool and funny. We’d talked once after meeting at a party a few weeks ago, and we met up at a bunch more parties since. This time, though, he offered to drive me home, both of us knowing that we don’t live close to each other at all.

“Well, you’re chill. Plus I only ever see you at parties. I feel like I barely get to talk to you,” Matt laughed.

“I thought I gave you my number?” I argued. “Call me once in a while, hm?”

“It’s not like you really call me either,” He said.

“That’s because I don’t have your number, nimrod. I could have sworn I gave you mine. Do you have a pen?”

“Yeah. In the glovebox,” He sighed.

Dramatically, I opened the glovebox and grabbed the pen. The box was full of napkins and paperwork and the like. I knew he had a bunch of crap in his trunk, but so did I. I wasn’t one to judge.

My hand grabbed his wrist, prying it from the steering wheel and turning it over. He was wearing a gray T-shirt and as I leaned in, I could smell his cologne. I had to ignore it so I could scrawl my phone number onto his skin three times over.

“Get that tattooed so you don’t lose it,” I huffed, leaning back in my seat.

“I won’t,” he laughed sheepishly. “Lose it, I mean.”

I hummed, smirking. I stared at the road for a while, listening to the radio. One of my favorite songs came on. Only Time Will Tell by Asia.

“I like the keyboard,” Matt said. For some reason, it felt… awkward. We were about 3 minutes away from my place now, and I was starting to feel sleepy again. I wondered what was on his mind that kept him so quiet.

“I do too,” I agreed. “It’s like a war declaration. This song is very triumphant.”

“It reminds me of The Final Countdown,” He said, smiling slightly.

I laughed. The other iconic keyboard-driven tune from the other one-hit-wonder band named after another continent. “Definitely,” I affirmed.

I started to feel slightly overheated. Being with Matt in his car in the rain gave me a warm feeling. That and the fact that he’d given me his zip-up at the party a few hours prior. It was the most comfortable thing I’d ever worn. And it smelled like him.

“Hey, don’t let me forget to give this back to you,” I told him, pulling on the sleeves. He glanced towards me, responding with nothing other than a nod of understanding.

Through the duration of the last two minutes of the drive, I spent about half of the time stealing glances at his hands, face, and neck, and half the time daydreaming.

“Get out,” Matt ordered jokingly as he pulled into my townhome driveway. I lived in a small, but vertically favored townhouse with two stories, packed in between several other nearly identical homes like a sardine.

“Ugh. Bye,” I rolled my eyes, grabbing my bag and whatnot.

“Lemme walk you to your door,” He told me, getting out of the driver’s seat. He left the car running as he joined me at my side to walk the treacherous ten feet to my doorstep. What would I have done without him.

Matt had his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders and arms tensed. I assumed he was cold. The rain wasn’t as heavy now, but mist still fell from the sky and chilled the air.

I tried to unlock my door, moving my hair out of my face. It fell in front of my eyes again, and after tucking it back a second time, only for it to fall again, Matt took the liberty of helping me out.

I turned my head towards him as his hand touched my face, but he was quick to let go as soon as my eyes met his. I raised my eyebrows in a playful manner, poking fun at him. He lowered his head, smiling.

My door finally opened, and I stepped inside, setting my stuff down before meeting Matt in the doorway once more.

“Don’t forget to call me,” I told him. “If you don’t call me when you get home, I’m gonna tell every person I know that you’re dead.”

Matt snorted in a laugh. “They don’t know who I am,” He snickered, grinning.

“They will once they hear the news,” I warned. “Call me!”

“I will, I will,” He said, pausing. Matt looked down at his feet for a moment, biting his lip. “‘Night, Grace.”

“‘Night,” I replied, closing the door as he turned to walk away.

I huffed, turning the light on in the kitchen as I became truly aware of how physically exhausted I was. It was also then that I realized I was still wearing his zip-up.

My brain dragged me to the door faster than my feet could move, swinging it open with haste and calling his name. “Matt!”

He was only six feet away, turning to face me as he heard his name. I stepped outside again, tucking my hair behind my ears as I approached him.

“You forgot to take this back,” I stated, unzipping the sweatshirt and taking it off. I felt the cold, wet air on my skin as I did so, having only been wearing a tanktop underneath.

“You can keep it, I don’t care,” Matt grinned. “It’s old anyway. Not that I want you to have old stuff, but you know what I mean.”

“You’re not sentimental about it? At all?” I asked.

“Not really.”

He was full of shit.

“Are you sure I can have this?” I asked, wanting to know what he was really thinking.

“Not if you don’t want it,” he said, smiling. I loved his smile.

“I do want it. Do you want me to have it?”

“Sure.”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes, I want you to have it,” Matt laughed. I’d been holding the hoodie bunched up in my hands. He gently pushed it towards me, before pocketing his hands again. “I have, like, 80 more.”

I stared at him, hoping to make him crack and tell me that it was his favorite hoodie and that he wanted me to have it in case I ever missed him, but he didn’t. Instead he shooed me away.

“Go get some sleep,” He ordered, touching my shoulder and pointing to the door. The contact and proximity made me veer my eyes away from his.

“Okay,” I huffed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he laughed softly, turning to walk away. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Matt?” I squeaked.

“Grace,” he responded quickly, sounding slightly exasperated. I worried he was getting annoyed with me.

His face was patient, however. I stared at him, studying every detail. The slope of his shoulders and the way his shirt hung from them. His messy, curly hair, which was somewhat damp from the rain. The dorkiness of his glasses and stature as a whole.

“If you’re gonna ask me about the hoodie again…” He laughed nervously, biting his lip as I stepped closer to him. One of his hands left his pocket to reach behind his head and mess with the back of his neck and his hair.

I stopped about a foot away from him to put the sweatshirt back on, leaving my shoulders uncovered. I noticed his throat shift as he swallowed, lowering his head.

I gently grabbed his hand - the one attached to the wrist I wrote my number on - and turned it so the inside of his wrist was facing up.

“Don’t forget it,” I whispered. “Or else.”

I stared into his eyes, his face only a few inches away from mine. It took a moment for him to make eye contact with me, but once he did, he gained that infamous lifeless-eyed look in his face. His shoulders relaxed and he swallowed again.

I, however, was holding my breath. It took me a solid few seconds to psych myself up into sliding my hand gently up his arm, leaning closer as I did so. Matt was quick to hold my jaw in place with the fingertips of his other hand, but hesitated again, staring at my lips.

Then, I felt his nose brush mine, his hand slightly nudging my face upward. I barely felt his fingers at all as they were ghosting my cheek, unsteady.

I could feel his breath now, shaky as I could tell he was shivering and/or nervous. My free hand reached up to touch his chin, guiding his face closer to mine as I broke the space between us and kissed him.

It was gentle and almost hesitant. He seemed to be holding something in, but as soon as I kissed him again, he kissed me back.

It didn’t take long for me to lose my breath, despite how slow our kiss was. I felt weak in the knees and on the verge of fainting. Something about his lips and the way he carried the kiss was so intoxicating.

Naturally, we pulled away, our hands lingering on each other’s faces as we caught our breath.

“I couldn’t help myself,” I mumbled, grinning.

Matt laughed, letting his hands fall from my neck. It seemed like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

I yawned, my body reminding me of its exhaustion. Matt’s hands ghosted my waist as I reached up to kiss him one more time.

“You better call me,” I ordered. “G’night Mr. Sandman.”

“‘Night mamacita,” He said, teasing. I laughed, flipping him the bird as I stepped back inside once again.

The zip-up still smelled like him. I pulled the zipper all the way up and pulled the strings of the hood as tight as I could, trudging to my bedroom to lay down and await his call.

[george228732]

Fylass in Wonderland -Chapter Four- Domains of the Diamond. (TW - SLIGHT GORE AND CIGARETTE MENTIONS)

Fylass was still, trying to process what just happened, and it seemed that things would only get weirder from here, they could’ve sworn they saw Singularity one of those days, although, they weren’t so sure of that, but they knew perfectly that these two didn’t met or talked to each other before, so, why do they know about their name? Do they know more things about them? Is this something that they should be more worried about?

Dolly could see the penguin’s concern for the whole situation, and decided to try and cheer them up. "Don’t worry, best friend! If those rabbits ever decide to annoy you, Dolly will punch them in the face!" It was clear that Dolly didn’t have much idea on what was Fylass’ concern, but at least she lightened the mood a bit. "...Haha, thank you, Dolly…" Fylass said with a weak smile.

"We should get going though, an exit might be nearby, or not, and we must find it." 

"Oh! Right! Dolly will help as much as she can, best friend!" Dolly said, going towards the path, yet again. Fylass followed her closely; the area was peaceful - they could hear some birds chirping, and the sunlight started to leak towards the tree leaves, and on the ground, Cherry Blossoms were around, becoming more frequent as both the penguin and doll took more and more steps. Fylass felt peaceful when being here, and it could be a perfect place to live in… maybe there’s someone actually living here. 

"Best friend, Dolly found someone!" In fact, Dolly did find someone, a little Waddle Dee with Cherry Blossoms over her head - she was so small that even Dolly was taller than her. "...Blossom Dee?!" The Waddle Dee seemed surprised and excited when hearing that name, for some reason, and went towards a small tunnel, trying to convince both Fylass and Dolly to go with her; she was seemingly mute, so it was hard, until she entered towards it.

"...Is Blossom trying to lead us into that hole?"

"Maybe! Either way, if something happens, Dolly will protect you!" 

"...Sure, haha…" Fylass said as they crawled towards the hole, and Dolly did so as well. 

The area was odd, it was like being inside of a giant, hollow bush, with blue lights coming out of the small crevices that would let someone see the ephemeral light out of them; the ares was filled with Cherry Blossoms in left, right and center, whether be in flowers, or trees, those were around, and at the center, a throne made of what was seemingly, a stump, was there as well.

"...Wow… this is pretty!" Dolly claimed.

"...It sure is, but, where’s Blossom-..." Fylass suddenly noticed that there was someone sitting on the throne. They ran towards it to see who they were, since it was hard to see from a distance. "Hey! Wait for Dolly!" Dolly said as she tried to pick up the pace. When Fylass came closer and closer to the throne, they suddenly noticed who they were, and their shocked face quickly came across.

"...I see you are finally here." The person said.

The one on the throne had a cape resembling a cocoon, with faint green butterfly wings from behind, a mask similar to a caterpillar’s face was above them, which contrasted with the purple pupils shaped like diamonds, and a face that was nothing, but familiar…

"...Sir Pleiades…?" Fylass said, as Dolly finally catched up with them. "Phew! You surely run fast, best friend-... Oh, hi Wise Caterpillar!"

"Nice to see you two, Dolly, and Club… Could you tell me your name? It would be disrespectful for me to call you Club, when that surely is not your name." Ades said.

Fylass was surprised, but also disappointed - It seems that nobody remembered Fylass, or atleast, not enough for them to not even remember their name. "...Fylass." 

"Hm, an interesting name, I must admit, and you already seem like you know my name… somehow, although that probably doesn’t concern me." Pleiades said. "Uh… you know where Blossom is? I saw her running towards here but I can’t see her in here…" 

"Oh, Blossom Dee? You know about her as well, it seems. She is just trying to comfort the other "caterpillar" in this place; sadly, it’s not working…" 

"Another caterpillar?" Fylass was confused, but also curious. Right after saying this though, a weak groan was heard. "Blossom, please leave me alone, I am not in the mood to greet the Club or whatever…" Dolly and Fylass looked to the direction they heard that, and sure enough, they saw Blossom Dee, trying to drag someone. They had headphones, a lab coat, their feet inside of a… sock? And a big cigarette on their left hand. "...Mikuto?"

"Oh… so you know my name as well? It’s not that it matters really… I guess I should say hi and ask for your name?"

"Yes, you should, for its formality." Pleiades demanded to Mikuto. 

"...Well, what’s your name, kiddo…?" 

"Er… the name is Fylass?" "Oh, hi to you too, Mikuto!" Dolly said to him. Mikuto seemed sad, depressed even, what happened to him? Fylass seemed to ask the same questions, and Pleiades noticed. "Don’t worry about him, he is just sad that he can’t see his girlfriend again…"

"...Huh? You mean Kurabe? Something happened to her?"

"...You surely know about everyone in this place, huh." Pleiades said. "Yes, sadly, The Queen was feeling petty that day, and doomed her, along with some others to participate in an endless tea party for eternity."

"...Eh? How? And why?" 

"...It is something I don’t understand either, if I am completely honest."

"...Can you not please talk about her, please…? You’re just making things worse for me…" Mikuto said with an even more depressed voice.

"...The Queen is ruthless when someone defies her, so she feels the need to punish people when she doesn’t always get her way… I know that perfectly… I tried to stop her a while ago, but that ended up in wounds, and my jewel almost shattered…" Pleiades said, pointing at one of his hands, which had a diamond shaped jewel embedded in it. The jewel had slight cracks, but nothing too bad.

"The Queen surely knows how to put up a fight…"

Fylass was surprised. Pleiades has a gem too! But something about the statement of the gem shattering made Fylass uneasy…

"...I have that too, but it’s a Club instead… What happens if it shatters?"

"...Then you shatter as well…"

Fylass backed down, with the uneasiness not easing at all, tripped and fell onto the ground. "Best friend!" Dolly said with concern. "Are you okay?!"

"U-Uh… I am okay… I think. H-How do I take this off?!"

"Sadly, you are forever fused to it, and trying to take it off will lead to you shattering anyways… I wouldn’t recommend you to do that…" Ades said.

"...Well… thank you, I am not feeling any happier…" Mikuto said in a boring tone.

"...How can I get home then!? Maybe some of my friends out there could help me with this!" Fylass demanded.

"...Perhaps, although, if you want to look for that, you must get to the Card Castle. From there, you should be able to figure it out…"

"...But that’s where The Queen is at, right…?" Fylass asked.

"Indeed, but I got the feeling you will be able to outsmart her, and who knows, maybe even return Mikuto’s girlfriend back to him." When he said this, Mikuto seemed less sadder, seeing the opportunity that Fylass could actually bring her back.

"...Let me search for the way out to the castle." Mikuto said.

"So, now you are actually helping. Good for you, Mikuto."

"If the Club is actually able to bring her back, I’ll obviously help! Who will you take me for?!"

"...Their name is Fylass." Pleiades said. "Their name is Fylass!" Dolly claimed with a bit of annoyance.

"Sure, sure, whatever, just let me find the way out for this kid."

Mikuto left with Blossom to get to the exit that could get Fylass closer to the Card Castle. 

"Sir, are you really sure I can do this?! I lost my powers, and my wings as well! How could I defeat someone that defeated someone like you?!"

"...It’s not about defeating, more about outsmarting, and yet, I couldn’t think about that in time. I am sure you will find a way to outsmart her, for I am sure you are someone smart. I know that in my mind, and also my heart if we’re at it."

"...That was odd advice, but… thank you for saying those words." Fylass said.

"My pleasure."

"Guys, there, I opened the exit for you, and I think you might find this useful as well." Mikuto came back with Blossom, and the latter seemed to have a bag with some cupcakes and drinks with the words "EAT ME" written on all of the cupcakes with glace, and "DRINK ME" on the bottles. "These can make you bigger and smaller, depending on the situation you’re in. I wouldn’t recommend you to eat those fast though, they cause headaches and such…

"Oh! Free food!" Dolly said, trying to grab one cupcake, but Fylass stopped her fast enough. "Aw…fine."

"...Well, thanks for the advice, but we’ll get going." Fylass said.

"No worry. Good luck on your endeavor, Penguin of Clubs." Pleiades said, as Fylass came towards the exit with Dolly.

"...Oh! And remember to bring Kurabe back when you’re done" Mikuto said.

@ilikesillythingswooo

@kachikirby

@loaflovesdoodling (CREATOR OF THE DRAWINGS, THEY LOOK SO GOOD)

@wyverewings (I mentioned Singularity, so...)

[oh-myluckystars]

4KOTA Week

Day One: Pining/Coffee Shop ☕️ [Trisolde Flavored]

“One espresso.”

The customer was about Isolde’s age, she might describe him as tall but when you’re as tall as Isolde is it’s a little hard to tell. He had long silver hair with bangs that covered his eyes a little so it was hard to tell but she could make out blue and green under there.

“Alright,” Isolde said, grabbing an espresso cup and uncapping her pen. “Can I get a name for that order?”

“Tristan.”

She wrote down his name and the order, then passed the cup off to Chion to be filled.

“That’ll be three pounds.”

Tristan paid without saying another word, silently sliding the money across the counter to Isolde. Chion handed Tristan his coffee and he took it from him, making a swift exit from the café.

“What a weirdo.” Jade said.

Isolde looked dazed.

“Hm?” She asked. “You think so? He was actually pretty handsome, don’t you think? I hope he comes back.”

“Are you serious?”

—

Tristan closed the door behind him with a sigh. He leaned back, watching cars pass him by.

Why do I have to be so awkward around girls? Especially the cute ones…

Tristan took a sip of his coffee and made a disgusted face before swallowing slowly.

And why did I order this? I don’t even like coffee!

What a waste. Well at least—

Tristan slipped a hand in his empty pocket— Wait, empty?

My wallet, it’s gone! No, I must’ve dropped it in the coffee shop! But I can’t go back inside now…

Oh, I know! I’ll just—

“Excuse me, sir- er, Tristan,” Isolde tapped his shoulder.

Tristan jumped. “Y-Yes?”

“Here, you dropped your wallet in the cafe.” Isolde handed him his wallet.

“Thank you very much.” Tristan said.

“It was no trouble at all.” Isolde smiled at him. Anything for an excuse to talk to Tristan. “Enjoy the coffee!”

Isolde dashed toward the door, returning inside. She was gone for a second and back in the blink of an eye.

“I forgot to give you your receipt, sorry!” Isolde apologized. Before Tristan could thank her, she ran back inside.

But that wasn’t the strange part. The strange part was that he could’ve sworn that Isolde had given him his receipt inside the café.

When he looked closer at the receipt, he realized that it wasn’t even his receipt. He thought about returning it but when he flipped the paper over he saw numbers scribbled on it with a message.

‘You’re cute, call me sometime’

Tristan blushed, staring at the receipt in disbelief.

He took another sip of his coffee. It still tasted bad but he could bear it if he got to see Isolde.

Maybe coffee wasn’t so bad after all.

—

Tristan came back to the coffee shop the following day.

Today he was determined. He would order something he actually liked, maybe flirt a little, and if he was lucky he could get a date.

He was not lucky.

Yesterday, Tristan couldn’t even get out a word when Isolde greeted him yesterday. Her beauty just stunned him into silence. But today would be different, he swore it.

But today the one waiting for him at the cashier wasn’t Isolde but Chion.

“Hey cous,” Tristan chirped, leaning against the counter. “Working hard or hardly working?”

“Here to see Isolde?” Chion asked.

How did he know? “No, no, of course not. I came to see my favorite cousin!”

Chion raised a brow at him.

Tristan leaned forward, speaking in a whisper. “But just out of curiosity… Isolde wouldn’t happen to be working today, would she?”

“Nope, I’m all alone at the register today. Even Jade ditched me.” Chion wiped away a non-existent tear from his eye.

Tristan stared at Chion blankly.

“Well? You gonna order something or what?

—

Tristan picked up his spoon, stirring the tea slowly while in thought. The hard part was over now that he had Isolde’s number. Now came the harder part, getting her to fall for him.

He and Isolde had texted each other practically all night long. It felt a lot easier texting her instead of talking face to face. Mostly because he couldn’t get distracted by her beautiful face.

But that didn’t change the fact that he was disappointed he couldn’t see her today. After all that time he spent talking with Isolde over the phone, he had been excited to see her in person.

But then Chion had to go and crush his dreams like that.

Man, I really wish Isolde was here today…

“Tristan, you came!” Isolde seemingly appeared out of thin air behind him, towering over his shoulder.

She smiled at him. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yeah, of course. Go ahead.”

Tristan picked up his cup of tea, blowing on it gently. “I’m a little surprised to see you. Chion said you weren’t working today.”

“Hm?” Isolde put her down her drink. “No, I was here, just in the kitchen, baking. I’m not usually on the register but the café was pretty busy yesterday so my boss made me get on.”

“You bake? I have to admit I’m a little jealous,” Tristan said, leaning his face against the palm of his hand. “I can’t cook to save my life, much less bake. I think it runs in the family.”

Isolde sat up straight, folding her hands against the table. “Tristan, let me let you in on a little secret. Anyone can cook, in fact it is quite easy. All you need to do is follow the recipe to the tea.”

Isolde cringed at the unintentional pun at the end of her speech but she hoped that her message went through to Tristan. And it looked like it did. Tristan stared back at Isolde, speechless.

Maybe I went a little too far there…

But Isolde didn’t stop there.

“Here, try one of my scones. It’s an Isolde Original Recipe.” Isolde said, passing Tristan the bag of pastries.

Tristan plucked a scone out of the bag and took a bite. Isolde watched him intently, trying to read his facial expression as he chewed on the pastry.

“Wow, it’s delicious!” Tristan said.

Isolde smiled, relieved. Now she could proceed.

“You know, when I said that it was on Isolde Original Recipe that was actually a lie,” Tristan gasped. Isolde nodded, looking at him with a serious expression. This was in fact a very serious matter. “But it’s good, right? You don’t need to do anything fancy to make a good pastry. All you need to do is follow the recipe.”

Tristan nodded in agreement, too busy enjoying ths scone to form a response.

“And I think what you need is a good teacher. Luckily for you, you’re talking to the best baker in Liones.” Isolde said proudly, gesturing to her name tag.

“Really? You’ll teach me?”

Isolde picked up a scone for herself. “Of course I will! I must correct this injustice, Tristan.”

Tristan chuckled. “Alright, if you insist. But I will warn you right now that it won’t be easy.”

“You are going to eat your words, Tristan,” It came out sounding like a threat so she added, “And delicious pastries.”

“How’s Sunday?” Tristan asked.

“It’s a date.”

—

Over the next couple of days, Tristan returned to the coffee shop everyday to see Isolde. They sat and talked about what they oils be doing on their date and she even got him a cook book. Tristan spent an entire day studying it in preparation for their date.

The result was something resembling scones.

“…They look edible.” Tristan said, optimistically.

This was their 5th attempt and if they failed again, they wouldn’t be able to make a 6th batch. She could only hope Tristan’s was right.

“Only one way to find out.” Isolde fanned the scones off with a hand.

Isolde picked one up, examining it from every angle. She hesitantly took a bite, fearing what it would taste like.

“It’s good!” Isolde said, surprised.

“Really? Can I try?” Tristan asked.

Tristan closed his eyes and opened his mouth. Isolde blushed, guiding the pastry toward his lips. He took a bite and and opened his eyes. He gasped, holding a hand over his mouth.

“It’s good, right?” Isolde laughed.

“Really good. I can’t believe I made that.” Tristan was surprised with himself.

“See? I told you, anyone can cook.” Isolde took a bite out of the scone.

“What should we make next?” Tristan asked.

“I think we better save that for another time.” Isolde really needed to go grocery shopping after all they had been through that night. It would be a load off her paycheck, that was for sure. “…Assuming that you’d like to do this again.”

“I’d like that very much.”

[eryiss]

The Demon's In The Detail

Summary: Ivan Dreyar needed to die, and Laxus was going to make it happen, even if he needed to sell his soul to an annoyingly charming demon to do it.

Notes: Hi all. Yet again, this was written for the @fuckyeahfraxus Fraxus Week. This subgenre is Occult romance, and as such it gets a little dark. There's a brief description of a death, and a lot of murder plotting. nothing too graphic, but be warned.

Links: Ao3, FFN

The Demon's in The Detail

"I tear through dimensions for cruelty to harness. I summon the presence of the demon named Darkness."

A tepid silence filled the dusty attic. The pentagram, drawn in oil on the uneven floorboards, sat stagnant and waiting. Five candles burned at each point of the pentagram, the wax rolling down in silent globules slow and meandering. The mirror, large and imposing in the dimness of the room, seemed to loom over Laxus, who was kneeling with a bowed head on the other side of the pattern. His throat was hoarse from reading a six stanza poem and sweat from the heat was sliding down his face as a simmering burn coursed through his veins.

Seconds passed, and then there was pain. Laxus roared with the sudden boiling of his blood, but he clenched his fists against the floorboards and kept his eyes down and his head bowed. Five seconds, he needed to endure five seconds of the pain and it would work.

"Hm," A voice, distorted and hollow, rang through the attic. He kept his head bowed.

"Absolute Darkness," Laxus said, voice wavering slightly as he tried to remember what he needed to say. "I offer you sanctuary within my heart for the purposes of negotiation. I wish to offer a part of myself for the services of a demon."

"Hm," The distorted voice made the same sound again. "I accept your offer of sanctuary."

A foreign feeling burst inside of Laxus, it was burning without the pain. Laxus found himself panting heavily, eyes clenched shut as adrenaline exploded in every part of his body. He felt like he could run a marathon without training. Like he was completed by a missing part he hadn't known he was searching for. It was intoxicating, like the perfect combination of a high and an orgasm. His whole body was on edge, but it felt so damn good.

The feeling didn't disappear, but it settled into something comfortable. Phantom touches licked at him, like something sharp dragging down his spine. It was a struggle to keep his eyes trained on the floor, but he just managed it. He felt surrounded, even if he knew he was alone.

Well, physically anyway.

"You may observe me," The voice hissed, a reptilian sound that made Laxus squirm. "Look up, Laxus Dreyar."

The sound of his name from such a demonic voice had Laxus' head snapping up, ice chilling him. The mirror was reflecting a figure that wasn't there, a figure that loomed over Laxus, standing behind him and looking down. The figure was broad and tall, a humanoid form covered in scales and feathers. Warped horns were hooked out of its head, crowing a shock of green hair that was raised unnaturally. Its skin was cracked and shattered around its left eye. Wings made of pure energy were fluttering in steel like strands behind its back. Laxus' throat went dry, and he was flooded with regret at what he had done, but it was too late to regret it now. He had done it.

He had summoned a demon.

"You know my name," Laxus said, and regretted it immediately. He was going off the script, he shouldn't have done that.

"I know everything about you, Laxus Dreyar," The demon purred, and it was smiling with a nasty smile. "The moment you began my prayer, you opened your mind to me. I know your dreams, your nightmares, your hopes, your regrets. Everything you've ever done and ever wish to do. Even the parts you would never admit out loud," In the mirror, the demon leered down at Laxus, and whispered into his ears.

Laxus would have sworn he felt breath on his neck. "Those parts were my favourite. So many things to be ashamed of."

Laxus wanted to run; he wasn't scared to admit that. But he couldn't, not when he had already gotten this far. He couldn't get scared now, not when he was so close to the end.

"If you know all of that, then you know what I need from you."

"Need?" The demon tilted his head and looked down at Laxus condescendingly. "You don't need anything from me. No human has ever needed anything from a demon. I don't accept that you need anything at all. You contacted me because you want something from me. What did you want, Laxus Dreyar?"

He was being toyed with. He was offering a deal to a literal devil, he wanted something awful, and the only way he could get it was this demon. He shouldn't feel shame - he should have abandoned that with his morality - but he still did.

"I'm waiting, Laxus Dreyar."

"Kill my father," Laxus blurted it out, hands clenched in his knees. "I want you to kill my fucking father. I want it to be brutal and public and permanent."

The demon looked down at him. "Why?"

"If you know me then you know why he needs to die," Laxus grunted, standing up despite being told not to by the occultist who had instructed him. There had been stories about demons expecting total respect and slaughtering people who didn't kneel. This demon seemed more fascinated than angry. He just kept watching. Waiting. "He needs to die because of what he did. You must know what he's like, what he's done. The second he gets out, he's going to hurt people again. He'll be worse, he won't stop unless someone stops him."

"You want to make a deal with me for the greater good?" The demon hummed. "Demonic deals and moralistic hopes. They don't often overlap."

"Can you do it, or not?"

"I'll consider it, when you start being honest," The demon had an amused expression, watching with snake like eyes. "Answer three questions truthfully, and your father will be a lamb to the slaughter. Question one: what specifically is the reason you want your father to die?"

Laxus needed to say it. He needed to.

"I'm scared," Laxus swallowed slightly, looking at the floor. "Ever since he got locked up, he's been sending me these letters saying what he's going to do when he gets out. How he's gonna hurt me, gonna kill me. I thought it was all bullshit - he had a death sentence for fucks sake - but now he's getting out. I don't know how the hell he's done it but if he can get off death row then he can get to me and fuck that. He's the one who should die, not me."

"Hm, much more selfish," The demon taunted. "Exactly what I wanted."

"I thought you wanted honesty," Laxus stated.

"Selfishness and honesty are often the same thing," The demon laughed, and it was a chaotic, warped sound. It should have been revolting. It wasn't. "Question two: you said you wanted his death to be brutal, public and permanent. Do you mean that? Because if you're throwing a tantrum and you end up regretting your words, I'm going to be disappointed in you. I haven't been brutal in quite some time."

"Do your worst," Laxus crossed his arms.

"Hm, you're fun," The demon laughed again. "Question three: do you know what it means to sell your soul? You say you're scared of death. You'll live longer if you do this, but once you're dead you'll be at my mercy. I can cause a lot more hurt than your father could think of."

"I'd rather go through hell than let him win," Laxus snarled, and the demon matched his expression.

"Then we have a deal, Laxus Dreyar," The demon sounded delighted through his echoing. "My name is Freed Albion Justine, I assume you know how to proceed."

Laxus nodded, and the knowledge of a demon's true name sat heavy in his heart. He returned to his kneeling position at the foot of the pentagram, mirror behind him. The demon - Freed - walked behind him, still only visible in the reflection of the mirror. Laxus bowed his head again, and in the mirror Freed's claws were wrapped tightly around Laxus' head. It was like he could feel it, even though the demon has yet to come into the real world.

"I Laxus Dreyar, offer my soul to the demon named Freed Albion Justine," Laxus spoke loud and clearly. The candles flickered and the air hummed. "For an eternity, he will dictate my afterlife. In return, I request the brutal, public and permanent murder of my father: Ivan Dreyar. Are these terms acceptable?"

"Your deal," The voice was fully warped now. It echoed like in a church but slurred like a drunkard. "Is accepted."

A cracking exploded in the silence, glass shattering inwards as the flames on the candles burst into black light. The oil of the pentagram began to lift from the floorboards, swirling and floating. It clung together, coagulating into a featureless figure that floated lifelessly in the air. It rotated and Laxus watched as the shards of the mirror cut into the oil figure, which burned with the black flames. The oil burned away, revealing a man who landed elegantly on the floor.

He wasn't as tall as the demon, nor as Laxus, but was by no means short. His finessed strength was covered by a red and black cloth that hung limply around his body. The green hair which, as a demon, had stood on end now hung loosely against his back. The scaled eye was covered by bangs, and his horns were represented by two little cowlicks. He was… handsome?

Laxus should not find a demon's human form handsome.

A hand, far too soft, cupped his chin with sharp nails. Laxus was forced to look up at the face of his personal demon. He was transfixed by the man's single visible eye and his heart hammered in his chest.

"Come now, Laxus Dreyar," Freed said, voice mellifluous yet with a hint of an edge. "I think it's time we kill your father, don't you?"

He dropped Laxus' chin without waiting for an answer and walked to the door to the attic. Laxus watched as he raised his right hand and clicked his fingers with a resounding snap. The cloth burned to a crisp and was replaced by a flaming red suit and dress shoes. The reality of what Laxus had just done filled him, and he was vomiting before he could stop it.

----

Laxus stepped through the metal scanner, trying not to fidget as he waited for his possessions to be returned to him. He watched as Freed strode confidently through the scanner himself, oddly transfixed by the demon. He had the essence of a man without a care in the world, and perhaps he was. A demon among humans did have a certain advantage. No doubt killing a man for Freed was as common as getting groceries for Laxus. That didn't make things any easier.

They were in the courthouse, and Laxus was going to see his father face to face for the first time since Ivan's trial. He didn't want to do it, but Freed had told him he needed skin to skin contact with him to complete his half of the bargain. Laxus had wanted to question why that was but thought better of it.

Demon… The man was a demon.

Laxus had made a deal with a demon.

He didn't feel guilty about what was going to happen to his father, Ivan deserved death. But he had no idea what was going to happen to him. He expected eternal torment, and that didn't exactly scar him because he had known that would happen the second the spell had worked. What he hadn't expected was how Freed just… stayed. Laxus thought he would make the deal, sell his soul, and Freed would disappear and that would be the end of it. He didn't know he would be involved.

Hell, Laxus had driven them both to the courthouse for god's sake. A literal, actual demon had sat in his beat up pickup truck, complained about his music, and then told an anecdote about how one of Laxus' favourite musicians once got so high he saw an angel and the entirety of heaven went into a full blown panic. He said it as if it were a regular work story.

And then there was the magic. The abilities. Whatever they were called.

Freed had seen the vomit staining Laxus' shirt once he left the attic, and then simply got rid of it with a wave of his hand and a small tut. When they got stuck in traffic, his eyes had closed and then all the cars in front of them suddenly pulled off at the next exit and they had open roads for the rest of the trip. Even now, blatantly in front of the security guards who were watching him, he picked up a bottle of water and turned it into a glass of rum without a second's hesitation. Nobody cared, and Laxus could only guess that he had some influence over the guards that made them ignore his actions.

Everything about Freed exuded power, and Laxus couldn't help but think he was a berserker in a tux. One wrong move and all of that power would explode, killing everyone and everything in sight.

They walked into the elevator side by side, and Freed pushed the right button. Once the doors were closed, Freed whirled on his feet. He walked into Laxus' space, far too close, and pushed him up against the wall with a single finger. He had a ferocious glare on his face as he pinned Laxus in place.

"You're not scared of me. Why?" Freed demanded. "And be honest. I'll break a bone if you're not."

Fear rushed into Laxus, more from the threat than the man giving it though. He swallowed and spoke as firmly as he could. "The second I figured out how to summon you, I knew I was a dead man walking. Hard to feel scared of something when you know you're going to hell no matter what happens."

"You're a nihilist," He said the word like it was a slur.

"That a problem?" Laxus asked.

"Of course it is. It's practically a plague where I come from," He huffed, removing his finger from Laxus' chest and stepping back. "We'll have to deal with that before you die. An optimistic soul is much more fun to play with."

The doors to the elevator opened, and Freed walked out of them as if he hadn't said anything at all. Laxus lagged behind, and the doors almost closed before he left. He jogged to keep up with Freed, who was walking through the halls of the courthouse as if he knew them well. Laxus felt a kind of itchiness as he got deeper and deeper into the building. Freed was insistent on them doing this, but Laxus wanted to back out.

Someone in a uniform opened a door for them both, and they walked into a room filled with tables and chairs. Freed sat at one in the middle and motioned for Laxus to sit beside him. Laxus did, playing with the side of the table.

"I don't get why I have to be here."

"Because I demanded it of you, and you're a lot more susceptible to a firm hand than you think," Freed said it jovially, as if his complete knowledge of Laxus' mind was something to poke fun with.

"Can I go or not?"

"You could, but I'd hate for you to miss this," Freed tapped his sharp fingernails on the table, a nasty grin etched across his face. "This is your victory, Laxus. Your lap of honour. This is the moment he understands what you've done. You'll see how he realises the inevitability of what's going to happen. The moment he knows he won't see the end of the day."

"You're gonna kill him here?" Laxus asked, looking around.

"Of course not, I promised you something public. Cameras don't count," Freed seemed offended at the very idea. Before Laxus could think too much about that, Freed was speaking again. "How did your father avoid his death sentence verdict? Do you know?"

"A retrial. New evidence."

"Yes, and I assume it didn't escape your mind how unusual that was. A random man found a random picture that exonerated your father of a crime you know for a fact he committed," Freed said, and Laxus looked at him with furrowed brows. Laxus hadn't been able to stop thinking about that. "Well, let's say your father and you have something in common."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning you're not the only Dreyar who's been talking to the undead," Freed chuckled, and Laxus gaped at him. "How he managed to carry off the spell in his cell I still don't know, but he also made a deal with a demon."

"Can we still do this then?" Laxus said in a panic, the absurdity of the claim pushed to the side for the moment. "Wouldn't that be a… a breach of his contract? We're not gonna have to deal with a pissed off demon, are we."

"Of course not. And if we did, I doubt it would matter. Jackal, the demon your father dealt with, is a kitten compared to me," Freed grinned a feral grin, and again Laxus wondered what was hiding behind the calm facade of the man. "But it won't come to that. Your father thinks he's smart; so, he asked for miraculous luck. Anything that would help him, luck would bring it to him. In a lot of ways, it's a smart trade; he could live an idyllic life without lifting a finger. But Jackal has done his part, Ivan has to fend for himself now, which is good for us."

"It doesn't sound good," Laxus growled. "Can't he fucking… luck his way out of it?"

"No. We made a deal, we had a verbal contract on your soul. I follow those deals to the letter," Freed leant back, looking towards the door. "After all, what is a contract but a rejection of luck."

That was… comforting. He shouldn't feel comforted by a demon.

Whatever comfort Freed's words had given him died the moment the door opened. Ivan walked through it, in a suit and handcuffs. He felt as though he was frozen, and all the memories of what Ivan had done to him over his childhood flooded back to him. Years of pain and fear were paralysing him, and the sneer on his father's face made him feel like a terrified ten year old all over again. He wanted to flee, or attack Ivan and kill him himself, but a firm hand placed itself on his thigh and he looked back to Freed. Freed was… smiling at him.

Ivan walked towards them both, and his sneer turned to a nasty jubilation. If Freed had been right about Ivan's deal, and how he had been blessed with aggressive luck, then maybe he thought this was good for him. A way to hurt Laxus another time. Laxus felt sick all over again.

"So," Ivan's voice was hoarse, but smug. "You've shown your face at last," His eyes flickered to Freed. "What is this?"

"I'm his boyfriend," Freed answered for Laxus, and Laxus shot a look at him. Ivan narrowed his gaze, as he always had whenever the topic of Laxus' sexuality had arisen. "I'm so glad to meet you, Ivan."

Freed was on his feet a moment later, and he took Ivan's hands in his own. It looked like he was shaking them out of politeness, but Laxus didn't miss the way his eyes burned a scorched purple. He felt the heat rising through his body just like he had when he had summoned Freed, and each time it happened it was warmer and gentler than the time before. It was almost sweet at this point.

Ivan staggered back a few steps, and the guard who was watching him put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Freed let his hands fall away, the nasty smile on his face a stark contrast to Ivan's genuine fear. Ivan was scared. Laxus had never seen that before.

It was transcendent. Euphoria.

He understood exactly what Freed had meant when he said Laxus shouldn't miss this. Because he could see the fear, the anger, the failure to accept what was happening. It was all flashing across his face, which was getting whiter and more sickly by the minute. He looked ready to run, and to cry, and Laxus relished it.

And then Freed, the beautiful demon, drove the knife in with a simple sentence.

"I can't wait to see how the day goes for you."

----

Ivan's sentence had been overturned, just like Laxus had expected. The courts had said this was a good day for justice and acted like Ivan deserved a world of apologised from everyone involved in the justice system. The sycophantic apologising from the judge had made Laxus squirm from the viewing areas, and he had wanted to scream and demand what the hell was wrong with them.

Freed's hand had landed on his thigh again, and he whispered for Laxus to calm down and look at Ivan. Ivan was trying to look normal, trying to look happy and like he felt a weight had been lifted. He still looked sick, and it had bolstered Laxus' resolve to stay quiet.

"How long do I have to wait until you kill him?" Laxus had whispered, and Freed chuckled beside him.

"Not long now, dear human," He purred. "You wanted it to be public. I would say being surrounded by a crowd of people while also being broadcast live across the country is as public as you could hope for, wouldn't you agree?"

Laxus had grinned at that. Yeah, that was pretty damn public.

Guided by Freed, Laxus walked into the lobby of the courthouse's second floor. There was a large window overlooking the front steps to the building, where the gathered press of the nation along with random members of the public were gathered. A plinth had been set up with a collection of microphones affixed to it. From where they were standing, they could see the back of Ivan's head as he approached the podium.

"When's it gonna happen?" Laxus asked.

"Soon," Freed assured him. "His speech ends with him claiming to look forward to what happens next in life. I thought it was funny to have that be his final words."

Laxus nodded and wondered if he should feel bad for how happy he was with what was happening. Rather than feeling any semblance of guilt, however, he found himself asking: "He made a deal with this Jackal demon, right? That means after he dies, his soul goes to Jackal?"

"Correct," Freed nodded. "And don't worry, Jackal is one of the most sadistic beings I've ever met. Your father will get what's coming to him,"

"You called him a kitten," Laxus mumbled.

"I called him a kitten when compared to me," Freed corrected, placing a hand on the small of Laxus' back. "That's true of a lot of demons."

"Great," Laxus said sarcastically.

"Oh, don't get scared of me now, Laxus. Your lack of fear is your best quality," Freed hummed, looking down through the window again. It looked like Ivan was winding down, and Laxus felt a surge of pleasure when he noticed just how tight Ivan's shoulders were. "I should warn you, I did adapt your request just a little. He'll still die, with the same brutality and permanence that you request. I simply added a further way to describe it. Farcical. I gave him a death that, while people might not admit it, they thought was funny. Just a little bit. Just enough to make his soul angry."

Laxus let out a small laugh. Freed really understood what Laxus wanted from him.

"Three," Freed's voice was quiet, and they both stepped forward. "Two. One."

Freed was right, Ivan's death was totally farcical.

First, as he walked away from the podium, he stumbled a little over a microphone wire. He struggled to regain his balance but managed it and tried to keep his cool. He was looking around as if scared, looking for Laxus.

Next, a seagull that flew by cawed. Ivan flinched at the sound of it, turning just in time for the bird to strike him straight in the face. He let out an indignant sound, and his feet fell from under him as he staggered towards the stairs.

As he fell down the stone steps, nobody moved to help him. The way his body slammed against the marble might have made a lesser man wince, but both Laxus and Freed watched impassively.

Still, Ivan survived. He pushed up from the ground and stood up. That was when it became less farcical, and much more deadly.

A truck, driving fast and unwieldy, struck him from the side and splayed him across the road. It didn't stop, and from where Laxus stood he could see his father being crushed under the tires of the impressive machine. There was no way anyone could survive that, and Laxus watched blankly as his view of his father was covered up by the truck and the people rushing to help him.

"Public, brutal and permanent," Freed repeated Laxus' words. "Did that fit the brief?"

"Yeah," Laxus nodded. He felt content. He probably shouldn't.

"For the sake of honesty, I should tell you that I had to make a deal with the angels to do this," Freed continued. "This could have some… negative impacts on the people that saw it. The only way I was allowed to make such a spectacle was if I allowed the angels to numb the minds of everyone who saw it. They simply won't be bothered by it; it will be as important as someone simply tripping to the floor by the time the day is over. Is that okay?"

"So, nobody's gonna care that he died?" Laxus asked, then smiled. "That's exactly what he deserves. It's perfect."

"Good," Freed purred, placing a hand on Laxus' shoulder. "Now that I've done my side of the bargain, I think it's time to give you a taste of what's to come~"

With a surge of fire, Laxus and Freed vanished.

----

They were in a throne room, surrounded by black stones and red and black tapestries. Laxus felt lighter than he had in years, and warmer too. He looked around to see, sitting on the throne, was Freed in his demonic body again. Realisation hit him, and the implication of Freed's words terrified him. He was in hell. He was in actual, literal hell.

"Not what you expected, I assume," Freed said, tapping his claws on the throne. "Less fire? Less screaming? Less burning people alive and torturing them?"

"Let's just get it over with," Laxus said, voice firm as he looked down. "I assume you want me kneeling, right? You did when I summoned you."

"Hm, what an offer," Freed laughed. "Yes, that seems appropriate."

Laxus moved with rigidity, dropping to his knees and letting his head fall. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching him, but just like he had when he was summoning Freed, he made sure not to look up. Freed's shadow was cast over him, and Laxus winced in anticipation as to what was going to happen. He was going to experience a pain that he'd never imagined before, and he had to calm himself with the knowledge that Ivan was suffering in exactly the same way.

A claw - no, a fingernail - grazed the bottom of his chin and tipped his head up. Freed was in his human body again, wearing that same cloths he had worn before. Yet again, a tiny part of his mind thought he looked damn good dressed like that.

"You seem to think I'm going to hurt you, Laxus," Freed said, a smile on his face. "The selling of one's soul does not equate to an eternity of suffering, you know."

"But-" Laxus spluttered, "You said."

"I enjoy toying with people, you can hardly forsake me for that," Freed shrugged, then offered Laxus a hand to take. "Demons have a strong sense of morality, more so than any other creature. What we do with a soul under our possession is up to us entirely. We can, and oftentimes do, torture the souls we own. Most of the time the people willing to sell their souls deserve the hell they think is real. You though…"

"What about me?" Laxus asked but took Freed's hand and stood up.

"You interest me. You thought I'd torture you for the rest of time, and you were never scared," Freed tilted his head in though, before deflating. "I'm old, Laxus. Older than time, if you're interested. I have spent millennia after millennia, and the only humans I have ever spoken to were people offering me their souls. You were the first person who wasn't scared."

"What does that mean?"

"It means from the start of time, I've been looking for company, and you're the first man I think has been worth it," Freed looked Laxus up and down, smiling. "I've never met a man I'd want to spend eternity with before, and yet here you are. So, rather than skinning you alive or having you eaten by hellhounds, what if I simply allow you to exist in my personal dimension. We can just live side by side. An eternity of being together."

"You- what?"

"Ah, of course. You humans take so long on decisions like this," Freed tutted. "A proposition then. Once a year - let's say every Halloween - I take you back here. I get the rest of your life to make you mine. On the off chance you want rid of me when you die, I'll forfeit your soul to the heavens. If not, you become my prince. Call it a courtship, if you like."

"You wanna date me?" Laxus asked. Was he going mad? That was- what the hell was happening?

"Technically I want to bond our souls together, but your kind prefers to take the magic out of it," Freed smiled and placed a hand on Laxus' cheek, looking almost lovelorn. "You're a fascinating and beautiful man, and one I think I could happily waste the rest of time with. I think a lifetime will be enough to make you feel the same way about me."

"You're not… not gonna torture me?" Laxus asked, because he truly had no idea what to say.

"No, Laxus, I'm not going to torture you," Freed said gently. "If you agree to stay with me, I won't promise that my demonic side won't take over from time to time. But I've always been more mischievous than evil, I think. I'd much rather enforce a rule of strict nudity for a millennia than to hurt you in any way," He seemed to consider that. "Yes, enforced nudity will be common, I think. And I'll keep your body like this whenever you're here. You're just so… Greek. I love it."

Laxus ignored the flirting - oh God a demon was flirting with him - and instead focused on the offer Freed had made. "You're telling me, instead of hurting me, you're offering me courtship. And if I don't return the feelings you think you have, then you'll just give up my soul to heaven? That's what you're offering."

"Yes," Freed nodded. "And don't doubt my feelings. I've lived long enough to know what my soul is telling me."

"But, that's it, huh? No trick? No trap?"

"That's it," Freed nodded, smiling. "So, are these terms acceptable to you, Laxus Dreyar?"

Laxus, for the first time in his life, felt free. In hell, he was free. His father was dead and bring tortured, the world was rid of a monster and Laxus had been left with the consequences. But now those consequences had been taken away, and instead an offer of courtship and freedom had been given to him. He was free. He was himself.

"Oh, fuck yeah they are," Laxus panted, a giddy little grin forming on his face.

Throwing away the last scrap of common sense, Laxus wrapped his arms around the demon's waist and kissed him to hell and back.

[dark9896]

A Few of My Favorite Things [Klaus x Reader]

This adorable little fic was requested by anonymous 😍

You were wondering through the green room in the house. You could have sworn you heard Klaus talking, but to who?

Turning a corner, there was no phone, no other person. Nothing, technically, for Klaus to be talking to. And yet he seemed to be unable to stop himself from, whatever monologue he thought up.

"I truly have had the most luck in finding these Daylily bulbs." He wasn't paying you the least bit of attention even as you stopped hiding behind the potted Bird of paradise, "Once they flower this season, the green house will have such color. Perhaps I'll spread a few extra planting boxes to the rest of the house. Surely [Name] would like the array of colors."

You kept quiet all the same, hanging back a few feet. You've never heard Klaus talk out loud about his plants before. It was really adorable.

"Hm, I believe it would be best to move these Yucca closer to the window. They've been rather wilted looking. Perhaps I should invest in larger pots for them as well. Though if I remove the Aloe Vera from the box by the heater..."

Klaus turned suddenly, but still didn't register you there. Of course you moved, but you were certain he would have caught the movement.

"Then again, the Yucca are more adapted to desert climates. I should simply give them a couple days without water and see if that helps." Klaus stopped by the potted trellis, "Oh, yes. I was going to attempt to grow some Morning Glories this year. I should get the seeds, or maybe a small sapling before the month is out."

Oh this was precious! Klaus just lost in his own little world. Yet, his train of thought seemed to leave the plants behind.

"I don't think I've played much Prosfair as of late. Perhaps a quick game before bed tonight?" Klaus picked up a watering can, "That or several rounds of chess. The computer AI is fairly sophisticated at least. Would make for a decent challenge."

You felt your phone buzz, since you didn't ever remember to raise the volume from work, and you found it really distracting going off from random spam calls and texts throughout the day.

But this was from Steven.

"I should have said something sooner, that's my bad. Klaus was hit with a blabbing spell earlier today. He won't be able to tell that he's talking out loud. I didn't think it would be a problem, but I still should have told you sooner."

You sent a quick text back.

"That explains why he's talking to himself right now. Thanks Stevie."

"Please stop with the 'Stevie' stuff?"

"Nope, sorry Stevie"

You would probably annoy Steven to death with that, but that's what he gets for being the third Steven you knew. Klaus however had gone on to his tiny roped off nursery of single potted plants. Where he kept small cacti and flowers that bloomed best in tiny clusters. And you stayed just outside his line of sight as he kept talking.

"Hm, there's a small holiday coming up. Maybe I should ask if [Name] would like to make a day of it?" Klaus stopped and shook his head, "No, there shouldn't need to be a reason to spend a day together. Though I should ask if they'd at least sit in the kitchen with me while I bake some pastries. But what kind? A strudel sounds nice. Or maybe small fruit filled tarts."

You were no good in the kitchen, but if Klaus did act on this thought pattern, you'd be happy to oblige. But you could never admit to listening in on Klaus like this. Instead sneaking away, back to what you were doing before. Leave Klaus to his spoken thoughts.

[crushng-a]

this is not the captain. OR IS IT? they're certainly wearing that familiar coat, adorned with all of its finery. ( showoff. ) that shimmering blue crystal upon their wrist is missing, but you swear you can see a glint of something phosphorescent in their eyes when their head turns to just the right angle. the curl at the corner of their mouth is not fond, reminding you more of the snarl of a cornered beast.

the captain's shoulders sway as they come to a stop in front of you, pale green eyes ( those are new! ) appraising you from head to toe. they may not know what you are, not entirely, but they do not seem afraid. not like the other delicate little rabbits you've found peering at you from the darkness. their fingers flex at their hip. they do not lift. a voice, an honest to god voice, cuts through the crackle of whatever energy it is that they carry on their person:

" SO WHAT ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE? "

this is definitely not the captain. probably. no, this is the captain alright, but — not the captain he knew way back when! after all this time! WAITING! SEARCHING! SCREAMING YOUR NAME INTO THE VOID! and you have the gall to show up looking like this?

well. looking like this. wow. mm. those eyes, they sure do be looking. green? or — hm. could have sworn.

gin really just stares for a second. there’s so many things he’s had planned to say. (scripts! they had scripts! plural! scripts worth of passionate and well-thought points to pull from!) a lot of that’s blown completely out of the water by the strong, confident voice that comes out of the tiny, frail little frame. where’s the orphan waif? where’s the ghostly, wafting hair? sickly, victorian, washed-out, paper-thin? porcelain doll? LOOK AT YOU! you! you! roses in your cheeks, golden sheen to your hair, green! green eyes! you’re so beautiful. so goddamn handsome.

they do try to speak before too long. manage a gasp and a sort of cough. “captain.”

IT’S YOU. captain, did we make it? don’t let go! captain, please, no! left or right? no, wait, where are you going?! buddy! pal! amigo! captain! IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU.

( captain? )

“so you’re the captain!” captain in the way gin’s the engineer. you’re the captain of your fate! “oh, i can’t even be mad. just, just look at you!”

AND LOOK AT ME! gin laughs! sheer glee! utmost joy! you and your sour faces. you and your carefully kept distance. you and your hands, your perfect, delicate hands, wait, where’s the crystal. where’s? — my baby, my darling ship, the soul of her, where did you put it? did you fucking eat my warp crystal?

… i might be impressed. i’m not sure yet.

gin flings his arms out to the sides. “I’M SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR DOOM! but i don’t even think i have to be! look, look, look at you! you gorgeous thing, you! you made it out! i’m so fucking proud of you right now. darling, perfect thing. you’re wonderful. you’re amazing. YOU’RE A DREAM!”

AND I’M A NIGHTMARE!

(so we’re perfect for each other.) (hey, how’d you do that anyway?) (warp crystal. warp crystal. warp crystal. something important about the warp crystal.) (fancy a date?) (you’re moving too fast! woo them!) (oh, i adore you. love me. love me. love me. love me.)

starshine eyes, bright beaming face resolving into skin — a hungry void in engineer’s clothes. aren’t i ｄａｚｚｌｉｎｇ? aren’t i lovely?

“it’s me! you recognize me now, don’t you, captain? your loyal little pet, the head engineer?” you know, your friend? your pal? your sidekick? your slave? you remember that, don’tcha?

NO HARD FEELINGS. REALLY.

[yenn-atreides]

A warm welcome (a Witcher story)

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

Genre: fluff, just pure fluff

Warnings: slight swearing (2 x ‘fuck’)

Summary: after being shunned in your village, Geralt finds an unexpected friend. Or maybe more?

Let me know if you’d be interested in a second part

You had often seen him in your village, he passed there every few months: the white-haired Witcher. Everyone rushed inside when he arrived and prefered to stay there until he was on his way again. But not you, if anything, he had always intrigued you. His broad and tall posture, his silver hair, the golden gaze, and his always broody looking face. It seemed like you were the only one who wasn’t scared to look him in the eyes.

One time you were at the bar of a tavern, a couple of men were sitting there too. The witcher entered and the chatter died down immediately, making room for whispers and gasps. The men, normally so tough and strong, moved away quickly as he took place near them. You didn’t, you didn’t mind him there. He looked at you, and you could have sworn he had a slight smile playing on his lips.

You had just bought ingredients for your dinner at the market and were headed towards your little cottage near the village. You lived there alone, but you enjoyed it since you had a small herb garden and a horse whom you considered your closest friend. And that’s when you saw him again.

He was walking next to his chestnut mare, a wonderful animal with a white blaze on her head. People started pointing at him and you heard the words ‘mutant’ and ‘bastard’ muttered all around you. You looked at him, his hood covered a part of his face but you could still see his bright eyes. After making brief eye contact you dropped your gaze to the ground.

Just when you passed him you felt that your basket was tugged away. You looked behind and saw that his horse had grabbed the carrot greens that were hanging from it, and was now munching on the vegetables. You couldn’t help but snort at that, you found it rather amusing. ‘Fuck!’ you heard and looked at the witcher. ‘Sorry about that…’ he grunted, ‘No Roach!’. The mare wanted to take an apple as well, but he pulled her away from your basket just in time. ‘Oh that’s quite all right!’ you chuckled and gave her the biggest apple you had. ‘So your name is Roach?’ you asked and rubbed her nose.

The man was curiously looking at you now. ‘And what’s your name?’ you asked, he seemed confused and he furrowed his brow as if he had never heard that question before. You concentrated on Roach again because you weren’t really expecting him to answer you. ‘Geralt.’ he said after a moment. You smiled at him, and were amazed when he asked your name, ‘Y/N.’ you said. ‘Well, Y/N, I think Roach just made a new friend.’. You laughed and said: ‘Well we all need a friend from time to time, don’t we?’ while you kept stroking Roach’s mane. ‘Hm.’ Geralt grunted.

‘So, are you here for the kikimora?’ you asked, he nodded. ‘It’s a vicious one, attacks everyone who dares to come near it.’. After thinking for a bit he said: ‘I’ve seen you before. You’re the one who doesn’t run off when she sees me…’. You shrugged and said: ‘Yes, you don’t scare me.’ which made him snort. ‘Then why not join me for some ale?’ he asked. ‘What?’ you muttered, he looked at you with a slight grin. ‘Don’t worry.’ he said, ‘Thank you for sharing with Roach.’ before walking away.

‘Fuck…’ you muttered and thought for a moment before going after him, he was already yards and yards away. ‘Geralt, wait!’ you yelled with a quavering voice, he turned around and flashed you a crooked smile. You had a meal in a tavern where you talked for a couple of hours. You were tremendously interested in his stories about creatures, monsters, and Roach. But most of all you wanted to hear about the witcher himself. After some time he said his goodbyes, but before leaving he bent over and whispered something in your ear. ‘Thank you for this, I’m looking forward to the next time.’, he shortly put his hand on your shoulder before departing. You blushed and felt your heart flutter.

[dreamerstreamer]

Devil-May-Care

Pairing: demon!Dream / Clay x demon hunter!gn!reader

Summary: [Demon Hunter!AU] When you went in search of the most powerful demon known to mankind, you didn’t expect him to be so charming.

Warnings: a little horror + some violence + tw// weapons (crossbow, gun)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this was requested by a passionate anon! i fell in love with the request at first sight and had loads of fun writing this, although i did take some creative liberty with it. i hope you all enjoy :)

You huffed as you pushed past the branch hanging in your face, wrinkling your nose as you trudged onward. The forest was almost eerily silent around you, the pitch black night doing nothing to ease the tension that had gathered in your shoulders. Above you, the moon and stars twinkled soundlessly, peering down at you with wide, watching eyes.

Where could he possibly be hiding? you thought to yourself with a grimace. Is he even in this forest?

Your mentor had told you that this forest was the last place he’d ever been seen, and that it would be your best bet. But she also told you not to get your hopes too high, since he was known to be a trickster who never stayed in one spot for too long.

You sighed as you stepped over a fallen log, making sure not to trip. Despite how young the night was, you were already getting tired. Tracking was arguably the hardest part of your job, and easily your least favourite part of it.

Then again, no one said being a demon hunter was easy.

With a slight grumble, you squinted through the darkness while walking past another tree. So far, all you’d seen was tree after after tree, and you were getting fed up. Heck, you could have sworn there was a clearing just ahead of you here.

It was at that moment that the trees suddenly parted before you, and you found yourself standing in the middle of a clearing. The soft grass rustled beneath your feet as you took a tentative step forward, your ears perking up for any noise or movement. When nothing came, the muscles in your legs tensed.

This was the first clearing you had found in hours, and something about it just felt off.

“What are you looking for, little hunter?”

You whirled at the sound of the low, curling voice, your gaze frantically darting around the darkness for its source. You kept your lips pursed as your head whipped this way and that, nothing but silence filling the forest air. Even with the light of the moon, all you could make out between the shadows were the silhouettes of trees and their taunting branches looming over you.

There was no way it was who you thought it was... right?

“Not gonna say anything? Hm. Perhaps that’s just because you can’t see me. Here.”

You heard the snap of a finger, and the clearing around you suddenly lit up in a faint, greenish hue. Your eyes widened as the earth you stood upon began to glow, your fingers twitching at your side. Turning again, you quickly searched your surroundings once more for the voice’s owner. Everything seemed to be exactly how it appeared when you first arrived—the trees were just trees and the grass was just grass, even if they were both admittedly glowing.

Just then, there came a whistle from above you.

You lifted your head, and your gaze fell upon a figure sitting atop a tree branch a few feet away. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight.

Piercing, emerald eyes. A green fitted shirt to match. Dark, golden hair. A smattering of freckles. A cold, wicked grin.

The man smiled at you, swinging his legs leisurely as he tilted his head. “Hello there, pet.”

You didn’t wait another second before your arms were reaching up behind you, pulling your crossbow off your back. You slotted the arrow into the flight groove in near record time before aiming it up at him, aiming for but a split second before you pulled the trigger. In a flash, the arrow went flying through the night sky, pointed directly at his face. You could have sworn you caught his eyes turn red before he suddenly vanished, your arrow passing through empty space before pinning itself into the tree trunk he had been leaning against just seconds prior.

You panted, quickly pulling another arrow out of your quiver and reloading your crossbow as you turned in a circle, not a single detail going unnoticed by your watchful eyes. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you tried to focus on the rustling leaves around you. Your fingers curled around the stock of your bow a fraction tighter, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Where is he? Where did he go?

A smooth voice curled around the back of your neck.

“Is this how you greet everyone you meet, or am I just special?”

Whipping around again, you pulled the trigger without even an ounce of hesitation. A twang of satisfaction shot through you as you heard the distinct sound of flesh being pierced, followed by a tumble to the ground. You rushed over at the sight of the man—or demon, as you should be calling him—lying sprawled on the ground, his arms casually tucked under his head as if he hadn’t just been shot.

“Ooh,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around the arrow sticking out of his chest, “your arrows are made of dreamshade.” He grinned at you. “Smart one, aren’t you?”

Before you could even react, he ripped the arrow out, watching with amusement as crimson slowly dripped onto the front of his shirt. You stared at the hole in his chest, left behind by your arrow, a glimmer of glee expanding in your chest. Yes! you thought, your lips quirking as your hand floated toward the pistol hanging at your side. Now’s my cha—

All of a sudden, you watched in horror as the skin began to reform, the sinew and muscle stitching themselves back together to fill the gap. In an instant, his chest was whole again, the hole having disappeared entirely with nothing to even hint at its existence, were it not for the tear in his shirt.

“Unfortunately for you,” he said, tossing the arrow behind his head with a flick of his fingers, “I’m tougher than most demons out there.”

In a flash, you were standing over him, one foot digging into his chest. You didn’t even give him the chance to blink before you were pointing your crossbow at him once more, this time just barely allowing the arrow tip to hover above his neck. You tried to calm your breaths, pushing back the sick sense of joy you could feel starting to boil over inside you. You were so, so close to just killing hi—

“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to attack me without even asking for my name?” he calmly drawled, looking bored out of his mind.

You blinked in surprise, your thoughts faltering for a moment before your expression hardened once more. “I know who you are.”

He cocked his head at you, something like delight swimming in his viridian eyes. “Do you, now?”

You gulped, hesitating only for a moment before you began to speak. “Y-You’re Dream. Lord of chaos. Progenitor of destruction. Harbinger of nightmares.” You nearly choked on your own words.

“The world’s most powerful demon.”

He grinned at you, clapping his hands together above his head as he let out a small hoot. “Aw, you know all my titles?” He winked. “That’s cute.”

Cute, your brain repeated dumbly, a fuzzy feeling forming in your chest, but you quickly shook the thought from your head with a scowl. You should not be happy that one of the most powerful demon’s known to mankind called you cute.

(Okay, well. Maybe you were a little happy. Not that you would ever admit it.)

With a stony look, your finger wrapped around the crossbow trigger, the cool metal sending a shiver down you spine. “I’m here to kill you, Dream.”

He didn’t look fazed. “Oh? Even though we only just met?”

A snarl ripped itself out of your throat, fury slowly beginning to claw up your insides. Why did he sound so calm? Didn’t he understand that he was about to die to your hand?

“That doesn’t matter,” you said bluntly, trying to ignore your heart ramming away at your ribcage. “You’re a monster that needs to be disposed of.”

He hummed, absentmindedly picking at his nail. “That’s bold of you to say.” His tone was dull and interested, and his eyes seemed to shine even brighter thanks the green glow surrounding his head. “I can’t remember the last time a demon hunter has ever been so upfront with me.”

The string tying your restraint together snapped. That was it. How could he be so nonchalant? So apathetic? Didn’t he care?

“You’ve killed so many people,” you spat, “taken so many innocent lives, and for what?” You narrowed your eyes, nothing but pure disgust running through your veins as you dug the tip of your crossbow into the soft flesh of his neck. “What reason do I have to stop myself from ending your life right here, right now?”

Below you, Dream only stared blankly at you, his eyebrows raised. Then, he let out a sigh, wrapping a hand around the stock of your crossbow. Panic shot through you as he pulled it away from his throat with ease, his fingers curling around the polished wood. “First of all,” he said lowly, “that little thing isn’t going to do anything.”

In a blink of an eye, you heard the snapping of metal and wood, your gaze going wide. He shot you a cocky grin. “Not anymore.”

You leapt back, gritting you teeth and tossing your now useless crossbow onto the earth beside you. Your hand moved in a blur as you reached down and pulled out your pistol from its holster, pointing it toward him. “Each and every one of these bullets is soaked in holy water,” you shouted, your hand cocking back the safety. “Don’t think I won’t shoot.”

Dream rolled over onto his stomach, his grin widening as he rested his chin on his hand. “Tell me,” he drawled, tilting his head, “do you really think you scare me?”

You ignored the shaking of your fingers. “I—I can and will shoot you.”

He laughed, an uncomfortable warmth wrapping around your gut. “Please, darling—I’ve been alive for longer than you can even fathom. As if you’d be the first to pin me down, let alone try to shoot me.” His eyes flashed crimson, and you felt your stomach drop. “I know all your hunter tricks and tactics, and believe me when I say they won’t work.”

Suddenly, he floated up off the ground, not changing his position whatsoever. In only a matter of seconds, he was hovering above you, blinking down at your shocked expression with mirth glimmering in his scarlet gaze. 

Of course he could levitate—what were you expecting?

“Second,” he said, “I did a lot of those things a long time ago, especially in human years. How long has it been?” He tapped his chin. “Probably centuries by now, which is like forever for you guys.”

You scowled at him, your pistol still pointed at him. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t caused any chaos recently.”

“That’s true!” he chirped, snapping his fingers. “But my more recent activities have been much more... tame in comparison to my golden years, don’t you think?”

As much as you wanted to shoot him right here and now, you also wanted to punch him in the face before you did. “Lives are lives, Dream!” you shouted. “Any more or less lost doesn’t make you any more redeemable.”

A chuckle slipped from his lips, flipping onto his back as he continued to hover in the cool, night air. “Oh, you humans and your morality. How entertaining you all are.”

There was only one word running through your mind as you glared at him, your jaw clenching tight as your rage only multiplied inside you. Monster, monster, monster.

His eyelids fluttered shut as he allowed himself to drift a fraction lower toward you. “Well, I do believe I should ask—who’s to say that I was the one who killed those people, anyways?”

Your heart stopped in your chest. “...what are you talking about?”

He peeked an eye open at you. “It’s not like I flew down from the sky and shot them all with a rifle, and it’s not like I just snapped my fingers and everyone dropped dead.” He hummed at the thought. “Just what kind of person do you take me for?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your toes curling in your boots. “Stop distracting me—you’re dodging the question.”

“On the contrary,” he shot back without missing a beat, “I’d argue that you’re dodging mine, pet.” You could hear the laughter threatening to bubble up his throat as he spoke. “Do you really think I was the one purely responsible for all that destruction?”

You tried to ignore the slight tremble of your hands. “A-Aren’t you?” you stammered out. “You’ve started wars, detonated massive bombs, pushed people to their absolute limits. That stuff’s all your fault.” You gulped. “...isn’t it?”

For a second, he simply stared at you. Then, he burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh, how naïve you are, pet. Just what were you taught?” As he clutched his chest, he sunk a little lower toward you. “I didn’t fight on those battlefields. I didn’t press the red button. I didn’t kick men and women to the ground, pointing guns in their faces. But do you know who did?”

The cogs in your head began to turn as you wracked your mind over his words. Then, a wave of understanding slammed into you, and you lowered your pistol, your arm going limp at your side.

He couldn’t possibly mean...

“Ding, ding, ding! You guessed it.” His lips curled up into a delighted smirk. “Humanity did.”

Your eyes widened in horror. Oh, no.

The manic look in his eyes only grew. “Oh, yes.” He cackled at the look on your face, pointing at you. “I didn’t even have to lift a finger for you to all walk straight into your own demise! How pathetic is that?”

You took a shaky step back, your pistol dropping to the ground. “B-B—”

“B-B-B-But what?” he said mockingly, mimicking you in a high-pitched tone. “Did they tell you that I’m the big, bad wolf and that humanity is Little Red? Because they lied, pet. They lied to you.” He pointed his fingers together to form an X, tilting his head at you. “I’ll have you know that I’m not a liar. A trickster, perhaps. But a liar?” He narrowed his eyes. “Never.”

He bent down where he hovered in the air, waggling a finger in your face. “The truth is, darling, is that I didn’t do anything. I just stood in the room and watched. I might have pointed out that that one little duke was in perfect view, or that that one city only had so many people living in it, but I never took any lives myself.” He lightly tapped your nose, and you shrunk back as he crooned, “Humanity did all that, pet. They’re the real monsters to blame here.”

You wanted to sink to your knees and melt into a puddle on the ground. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Your mentor told you that Dream killed all those people—that he was the one to stab the knife in and twist it while pulling it out. She wouldn’t lie to you, never in a million years.

You wanted to believe him, you really did. But there was something about the freckles scattered across Dream’s face and the way the moonlight bounced off his eyes that made you realize.

He was telling the truth.

A few moments passed in silence as you stared long and hard down at your feet. You could feel Dream’s gaze boring into your figure, eyeing you up and down as you struggled to steady the beating of your heart. You half-expected him to mock you even more, but to your surprise, he didn’t. Maybe he was more human than you thought.

“Why?” you finally whispered after god knows how long.

When you were met with silence, you raised your eyes to meet his once more. “Why did you do it?” you said, louder this time. “Why did you interact with us at all if you wouldn’t even get your own hands dirty? If you knew it would only end like this?”

His eyes flashed, the tiniest hint of carmine swirling in their murky depths. “Isn’t the answer obvious, pet?” He flashed you a wicked grin. “I was bored.”

You blinked, realization slowly setting in. “Bored? Bored?” You were about to lose it, now. “You did all that just because you were bored?”

He shrugged. “Sure did. Chaos makes the world so much more interesting, don’t you think? If only good things happened, you would be bored, too.”

Your stomach churned with disgust. “You’re twisted.”

His smile only widened. “At least I’m having fun.”

All you could do was stare at him in defeat. This wasn’t right. There were more ways to have fun than to toy with humanity’s psyche and drive them to end people’s lives, even for a demon like him. There had to be something you could do. For some inexplicable reason you couldn’t bring yourself to name, a part of you almost wanted to help him.

I must be losing my mind, you thought. What person in their right mind would try to save a demon, let alone the most powerful one of them all?

You, apparently.

The cogs in your head began to churn, your mind bustling as it tried to come up with some alternative, no matter how silly. There had to be something he could do that wasn’t just this.

That was when it hit you.

“Why,” you started slowly, your voice coming out shaky and unsure, “don’t you have fun in a way that doesn’t destroy things... but creates them?”

He blinked lazily at you. “Hm?”

You swallowed, raising your chin. “You—you can have chaos, but it doesn’t need to be destructive.”

He raised his brows. “It doesn’t?”

Your gaze hardened. “Not at all.”

Just then, a flash of memory shot through your skull, and you gasped. “Say, Dream,” you began, “do you—do you know how the Greeks thought the universe came to be?”

You didn’t wait for him to answer. “First,” you said, “there was chaos. And from chaos, life was born. Gods and goddesses, plants and animals.”

“And humans,” he added.

You nodded. “And humans—like me.” You pressed a hand to your chest. “See? Chaos can create things. It doesn’t have to be so full of death and terror.”

While his expression was bemused, there was something sad about it that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “You do realize that that’s just a story that you human made up?” he hummed. “How the universe came to be is far more different.”

You blinked. “You were alive for that?”

He sent you a blank smile, the look in his eyes betraying nothing. “Maybe, maybe not.” Waving his hand, he flipped over onto his back, floating a fraction higher than before. “Point is, that kind of chaos probably doesn’t exist.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your side. “But it could,” you whispered.

He paused, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “What?”

You dug your heel into the ground, raising your voice. “It could! You don’t know that it doesn’t.” You took a step toward him, throwing your arms out. “Isn’t that fun? Isn’t that exciting? That there’s a whole other form of chaos you’ve never discovered before?!”

Your shout rang out into the quiet forest as Dream stared at you, his lips parted the tiniest bit. Rather than looking amused or arrogant, he almost looked... raw. Real. This might just the most vulnerable look you’d gotten of him all night.

Then, he burst into laughter.

Lowering your arms, you huffed at him, trying and failing to ignore the warmth blossoming between your lungs as you took in his wheezing face. “W-What?”

“Oh,” he gasped between peals of laughter, “what a treat you are, pet.”

Heat flashed across your cheeks as he wiped away a tear from his eye, his chuckles slowly dying down. His laugh should not sound as attractive as it was—he should not be as attractive as he was.

“Tell you what,” he said as he caught his breath once more, sending you a devilish grin. “If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you my real one.”

You stared at him for a moment, then your jaw dropped. “What?”

He stared at you, his emerald eyes glowing in the dim light. “You heard me.”

For a few seconds, you simply gaped, your brain still struggling to process his words. “But... but why?” you finally blurted. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

He hummed at you, flipping upside down. “What about it doesn’t make sense? It seems like a fair trade to me.”

Sputtering, you threw your hands into the air. “A demon’s true name is the source of their power! By handing it over to me, you’re basically putting your life in my hands—in a demon hunter’s hands.” Your face blanched at the mere thought. “A human name and demon name aren’t even remotely comparable.”

He blinked at you, slow and lazy. “I know.”

You didn’t understand—you couldn’t understand. “Then why are you doing this?”

He dipped his down toward you, his face hovering mere inches away from yours. “Isn’t it obvious?” he murmured. “You’re interesting. And rather cute, I suppose.”

You back-pedaled, your eyes wide as you stammered, “I-I could kill you if you told me your real name.”

He hummed, tucking his hand under his chin. “Perhaps, I suppose.” His lips curled upward. “But you won’t.”

Your hand squeezed around nothing. “You don’t know that.”

He chuckled again, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Oh, yes I do, pet. Don’t act as though I can’t see right through you. I know you’re too wishy-washy to kill me off just like that.”

He tilted his head at you, his gaze brimming with mischief.  “That’s the thing about humans—you’re all so greedy. You all want something you don’t have, something that fuels you to acquire more. It might be power, or fame, or fortune, or love. It’s quite pathetic, really. But curiosity?”

Lowering himself, he pushed himself up until he was standing flat on the ground again, his hands sliding into his pockets. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and your mouth went dry. “Why, curiosity is your greatest flaw of all. You humans always want to know more, and I know that you want to know what I do next, whether you’re aware of it or not.”

You felt like your blood was going to tear right out of your veins. You hated how right he was, how well he seemed to know you. “You’re insane,” you said.

His smile was lazy and wide as he took a single step toward you. “Probably. But I’ve been alive for ages now, and you might be the most fun thing I’ve seen in millennia. I want to know your name, pet.”

This was crazy in every sense of the word. Any other demon wouldn’t even dare utter their true name aloud, even to themselves, yet here Dream was, bargaining his for yours.

You’d be an idiot not to tell him your name, now.

Swallowing, you didn’t dare look away from his piercing eyes. “It—my name is [Y/N].”

His lips parted in awe, and he stepped toward you once more. “[Y/N],” he repeated, slowly. Carefully, like a wolf stalking its prey. “Fascinating name. Haven’t met too many of those in my lifetime, shocking as it may be.” He paused for a moment, and you could have sworn his smile looked different. “It’s pretty.”

A rush of heat went shooting down your spine, your stomach doing a flip. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glared at him. “Well, stop dawdling! What’s your real name, Dream?”

For a long, excruciatingly slow minute, he only stared at you, scanning every inch of your face. You could feel anxiety begin to crawl up your throat as he did nothing more than watch the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

All of a sudden, he was standing in front of you, his hand tucked underneath your chin and lifting it upward. You barely had the chance to gasp before you felt a soft warmth pressing against your lips, light as a feather and tasting like ash and smoke.

Before you could even register what had just happened, he was gone.

You whirled, your face growing astronomically hot. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears again, but for an entirely different reason this time. You raised your hand to touch your lips while your cheeks burned furiously.

Did he just... kiss me?

Just then, a whisper ran along the shell of your ear, so soft that you almost missed it.

“My name is Clay.”

[minshookie]

Invasion of Privacy.

Pairing | mafia!yandere!Joon x Reader

Genre | smut, angst, gore, yandere.

Summary | “while Joon is at work unwanted company comes to visit, opening your eyes to unwanted secrets.”

!warnings! | 18+ mature language , mentioned sexual acts, smut (just a little bit), violence, background character death, naive reader insert, dumbification, caretaker Joon.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [closed for request] words: 2k.

A/N | I struggled LOL But it’s finally here! I hope you enjoy. Forgive my mistakes please 💜

“Ready for breakfast hm?” Joon Spoke softly head resting in the crook of your neck, blanketing you with his warm damp body. “Yeah I guess.” Butterflies still fluttering in your tummy from the activities you both just enjoyed. “Mm well I’m not trying for waffles today kitten I have to go to work, so think of something quick.” He yawned before taking the tender skin of your neck between his supple lips again, sucking you in nibbling playfully. “Joonie when will Mary be back, I like her breakfast.” Almost whining. He chucked against you, “I told you Mary will be back after she’s had her baby.”

Feeling pouty you huff no motivation to eat knowing he’ll be leaving you soon. yawing you simply shrugged away the idea of this mornings breakfast. “Cereal again hm? If you insist.” He groaned pulling his self up on his forearms, gazing down at your connected bodies, he glided out with ease sighing in pleasure. Leaving you feeling empty yet warmly stuffed full. “I’ll be back, you stay put.” He began to walk towards the closet, watching silently in admiration. “Wait!” Stopping he turned. “Panties?” You request, fully knowing he’d get them for you. “Panties...of course.” He swiftly turned pulling some from the drawer. You reached for them, softly swatting your hand he went to your legs. “Up.” Complying, you let him dress your bottom half. “Being needy this morning i see,need a shirt too?” You nodded, letting him dress you again. “Alright cereal coming right up babybug.” He gave you a sweet Eskimo kiss before leaving.

His heavy steps thumped the hardwood stars, getting softer and softer before they disappeared. Never could you have imagined a simple round of dates would land you here, wrapped in Eucalyptus sheets, in the middle of a giant bed, upstairs of a Manson. Getting loved daily by a man with millions to his name. Your face began to grow warmer of subtle humiliation as you felt your heat drip of him. This whole situation felt like a long, long fairytale dream and you were loving every minute of it. Your reminiscing was cut short by the thudding of Joon’s feet coming up the stairs, finally he renters a smile on his face dimples prominent. Obviously proud of his limited culinary skills.

“A sugary cereal for the sweetest person I know, and a fruit cup too.” He walked slowly with he bed table careful not to spill. “c’mon get up and eat.” You sat up wide eyed ready for the meal he set before you. “What do you say greedy girl?” He held you back from the simple breakfast. “Thank you Joonie.” He nodded in approval letting go. “Remember, drink your milk, clean up your mess...eat all your fruit.”

He walked to the bathroom letting you eat in peace. You obliged his orders enjoying your modest breakfast quickly. Soon though, you started swaying the rose gold spoon around in the matching bowl watching the bland cereal chase each other. You’d finished all the marshmallows, you knew Joon would protest. Finishing the milk you began to pluck your favorites from the small fruit bowl, growing bored rather quickly.

“Joonie!” You beckoned, cheek full of berries. “yeah!” He yelled over the heavy patter of the shower. “Can I watch TV?” Tightly you closed your eyes in wishful thinking. “No Princess, it’s too early you know that, don’t you?!” You huffed, swallowing your fruit. “Yes!” He didn’t respond expecting you to eat the rest if your breakfast, in your true fashion you ignored the kiwi and bland cereals uneaten in protest of no early morning TV.

Annoyingly you shifted uncomfortably along the plush mattress once again. The once comforting fullness you felt now just starting to make an unpleasant mess...“Joonie!” “Y/n!” He yelled back while exiting the bathroom, his body glistening the scent of his masculine body wash and cologne engulfing the room. “I need to shower, I’m making a mess.” You stated shyly, making him smile in laughter.

“A mess huh, why don’t you take care of it?” He asked knowingly making you pout, he walked closer picking up the clear bowl, kiwi left behind. “Ah, eat this.” He held the green fruit between his fingers. “Eat one at least.” He rubbed it along your parted lips, you obliged his glare making you feel small. “Do I have to start giving you my cereal seems your tummy is getting full on sweets before you make it to the real breakfast?” Teasing he took it upon himself to finish the cereals.

“What do you say?” “Sorry for not finishing.” no way could you disobey him. “Good,Tell me about this mess though.” He inquired placing a kiwi slice in his mouth, walking to his suit closet letting his towel fall, he was already clad in his briefs. “You know!” He chuckled “I do? Oh is it my cum baby?” He stated lewdly while pulling out a dark suit. “Joon c’mon!” You whined, moving the the table. “Well Y/n if you wanted my help you should’ve joined me in the shower, you spoiled little brat.” He began to get dressed, “go wipe, go shower, and I’ll have someone clean the sheets yeah?” You rolled from the warm bed, a breeze catching your wet spot. “Yeah.” He smoothed the suit out over him , choosing a belt. “C’mon, I’m going to work big girl panties y/n go clean up please.” You took your time to walk past him , secretly wanting him to stay. You hoped he’d feel bad if you played hurt, or incapable of washing up maybe he’d stay late to help.

With a sigh of disapproval he turned from watching you walk begrudgingly in the mirror, giving your bottom a firm tap. “Now please so I can see you before I go okay?” Nodding you did as told, your scheme unsuccessful you resorted to complying. Striping and folding your clothes before throwing them in the hamper. Pulling the body wash, hand picked by Joon you lathered and showered as throughly and quickly as you could. Examining the dark areas he’d left behind, your neck,legs, and stomach, even scattering some along your pelvic area. Namjoon was extremely through when putting his claim over you, not like he had any competition. “All day kitten?” He knocked lightly on the door. The time spent Wandering in your thoughts taking a little longer than Joon’s liking you followed routine rinsing and turning off the water, drying you left with the plush towel around you.

He sat on the edge of the bed, an outfit laid over his thigh. “All dry?” You nodded catching a slight shiver, “you sure?” He called you over with a finger, tenderly he unwrapped you taking it upon himself to make sure you were dried, helping dress you as well. “When do you have to go Joon?” “Now.” Sighing you fell into his chest for a hug. “Yeah yeah, c’mon I gotta go love.” He kissed your cheek. “Kiss me before I go.” You pulled out of the crook of his neck latching onto his lips. Grabbing your neck he took the lead invading your mouth lustfully with his own. “Still taste sweet hm, remember to brush your teeth, lunch at twelve,have a snack around four, I’ll be home for dinner...and do not open the door.” You nodded your hands still in his. “I have a friend downstairs okay anything you can’t take care of...and I don’t mean the little things...ask him okay?” “Okay.” You crawled into bed avoiding the soiled area.

He got up smoothing his suit over again. “Uhm Joonie-” “I know I know.” He threw the remote to you before leaving. “See you later my pretty girl, remember I’ll know if you’re naughty. ” You smile turning on the TV. “See you later.”

After tedious hours of watching, and flipping through channels you enviably you became extremely bored with the flashing pictures playing before you. The nap you’d gifted yourself earlier began to wear off, you were sure it’s already been two hours, nobody’s came for the sheets. Strange of the morning staff to forget that. Rolling your eyes, you brushed off their neglect sitting up from the bed striping the stained sheets.

As bored as you were, you didn’t mind the walk down to the wash room. Once you gained balance of the heavy load, the trek began, only able to peak over the large bundle the stairs were a challenge. Once conquered you repositioned the bundle in your arms beginning to weigh on you. “Hey I brought the sheets for you!” Too lazy to complete the mission at hand, you tossed the sheets on the nearest couch, throwing yourself in the seat next to them. “Hello?!” Nobody seemed to call back as you voice deflected off of the walls. No way would they leave you all alone.

You stood from your seat, leaving the laundry behind as curiosity got the best of you. Where had everyone gone? You could’ve sworn you heard Joon conversing with them before he left. Roaming past the kitchen, Joon’s left his cutting board and knife out fruit juice displayed across the marble surface. Nobodies been on their job, and to think of it you haven’t seen or heard Joon’s friend he’d left for you yet.

You hated being alone, and Joon knew that. He wouldn’t leave you that way. Meandering down the elongated hall, which located staff bedrooms leaving a firm knock on the door....nothing. Fear draped over you the silence becoming too loud, taking panicked strides leaving the hall. Wandering the house looking for any other life form. Until you met face to face with a forbidden room. Joon’s office. Throwing rules away you griped the stubborn knob. Locked damn. “Help.” Whimpering like a kicked puppy you kept searching. “Joonie.” Wandering around, like you were lost in your own house, you skipped down the small flight of stairs, the washroom maybe they’re in there ...a dumb thought but this is the only room you haven’t rampaged.

Swinging the fragile door, a pungent rusting scent crashed into you. “And who the fuck are you?” Frozen in the door frame your brain fell blank. A group of men you’d never met covered in drying blood. The staff and who seemed to be Jungkook, sat lifelessly bound by their legs and arms in chairs in a perfect line. “Where’d come from?” Unable to speak you stared into the glossed eyes of people you once called friends. “Where’d you fucking come from!” Your mouth dried nervously, unsure what to answer...“Bed-bedroom ups-stairs.” They shared a look with each other, the only visible feature being their eyes. “Well you see these dunces doll...they lied...you won’t do that huh?” You shook your head, “Jungkook...he doesn’t lie.” They all laughed in frenzy. “No but he sure does fight back, don’t do that either...c’mon over here princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” You stepped only one step closer, in fear of getting near the corpses. “Alright, heard...who are you?” Fiddling with your shirt you looked to your toes. “C’mon baby answer honestly or I’ll have to...sit you down.” You looked up, hot tears piercing your eyes begging to fall. “I’m y/n...Joon’s girlfriend.” Nodding in approval, someone in the back butted in. “He fuck you good?”You sniffled, looking back and forth between the few of them. “Don’t answer that, we don’t give a fuck about that....here’s the real test, where’s Namjoon hiding hmm?”

Oh, that’s easy, “Joon...he’s at work.” Scoffing in disbelief he reached behind him into his back pocket. “One more time cutie, where’s your little boyfriend.” Wide eyed your mouth quivered with no words. “I told you he’s at work.” He turned to his darkly dressed men “get a fucking chair, you y/n go sit in it.” You turned to run, a gun shot landed above you dry wall crumbling. “Sit your tight ass in that chair, or the next bullet will be buried in your chest.” Frozen in your tracks, you knew siting would land you right where Jungkook was. “Kim Namjoon is at work you won’t find him here!” Shaken you peered over your shoulder.

“Okay...okay, where does he work huh?” You turned back towards the stairs. “Uhm...I-I I’m not sure...big business I think, he has suits and a home office and people p-people follow him-” your rambling in cold sweat was cut short by the sound of bullets ricocheting along the cement walls. “Get out of the fucking way you dense bitch!” Unable to see your hero you rushed past him bolting away as quick as you could, blinded by tears. Eventually you fumbled into someone. “Hey hey y/n you hurt?” “JOONIE!” You climbed him his voice mesmerizing you. “Joonie it was disgusting, joonie please help.” The commotion still echoing in the wash room, Joon took his large hands over your ears guiding you upstairs into your shared room.

Finally silence to comfort you a wave of anger rushed over you as you processed your situation. Your ears pulsating. “Y/n...I’m so sorry princess.” All you could do was fall back onto the bare mattress. “Please do- who are they?” He sighed rubbing the back of his neck. “Business rivals.” He leans a leg on the maters caressing your thigh. “Joon don’t fucking lie I almost died.” He swatted your exposed tummy. “Hey don’t talk to me like that y/n.” Tears of anger replacing fear, “is this a game to you am I a damn toy to you...Joon I know you’re not telling me the truth and it hurts.”

He sat on the bed with an aggravated groan, you laid back staring at the smooth ceiling. “Y/n it’s best if you don’t know.” “Joon I’ll leave. Tonight i almost got my brai-” he darkly chuckled cutting you off “and to where, c’mon where?” You breathed deeply with anger. “I’ll- uhm...” “I’m the best thing that ever happened to you, face it you’d be fucked over without me.” You rolled over, you could scream your figure shook in frustration. “I’ve pulled you in and treated you like a queen and you want to leave because you had to dodge a bullet?” “Please stop, Joon I’m leaving.” You sat up only to be pushed down, “you’ll die without me bitch, there are eyes on you, you take one step out of my house your just as good bounty as me.” What bullshit has this motherfucker pulled you into.

“Plus I’ve had you here, dumbed you down so much you can’t even shower right, let alone live alone, I feed your ass, wipe your ass, clean your disgusting ass, dress you, protect you, service waiting on you every damn hour of the day...fuck you how you please never how I please and yet you wanna go?!” Tears spilled from you, he straddled you peering maliciously, never has Joon spoken to you this way.

In surprise the door swung open, making your stomach drop, Yoongi’s face speckled red. “Joon it’s Guk he’s dead.” “Get out.” His voice flat no emotion present Yoongi obliged slamming the door on his way. “You even got one of my men-” “no.” You earned a slap like no other for cutting him off “I’ve trained you so much better, so much better than to cut me off and to snitch on me...I was at work huh...they wouldn’t find me here huh?” You couldn’t respond, the left side of your face throbbing from the assault. “Once I caught word of the invasion I check the cameras for you and low and behold your mouth never fucking shut...saving yourself? Fucking cunt.” You looked away from his accusing gaze.

“No words? Just how I like you...now be a good girl, apologize.” “I love-e you joo-nie I’m sorry.” You recite from memory. “I love you too, don’t ever disobey me again, and don’t you dare try to leave if you do, I’ll blow the little brains you have let by myself.” Tears pooled your face causing him to smirk. “Remember I own you, everything you are, everything you want, everything you believe, is mine to keep.”

Not my image

[hepaidattention]

pipe cleaner

where Lydia and Stiles live six hours away from each other their first year in college and hate it and also Scott needs help with the pack, but they make it work - they always do. oh also its their meetaversary. 

warning: occasional cursing because I can’t believe impulsive Stiles Stilinski didn’t use fuck on a regular basis

Lydia lied across her bed, head rested on her pillow, ankles crossed, and hands folded and placed perfectly on her stomach. She was waiting, patiently she might add. She let out a long sigh as she observed her ceiling. She wished it was those god ugly popcorn ceilings just for the entertainment of deciding shapes out of the little bumps - she used to do that in Stiles' room, all those times they’d say they were studying but it always turned into his long rants about his next hunch or scheme. Sometimes, when he got too stressed, she would pull him on the bed with her and tell him to tell her the first shape he saw. It was almost always something silly, or sarcastic, but it grounded him - it helped him when he was on the verge of a panic attack as well. One time she asked him what they looked like to her and he laughed a little. She asked him what it was and he said, "They kinda remind me of all the moles taking over my face."

She looked at him, getting a perfect view of the most prominent ones. She loved his freckles and moles, they made his face so unique. Then he said, "One of these suckers will be the death of me, just you wait. I'll spend years surviving werewolves and werecoyotes and murder spree sacrifices and nogistune possessions, all to die from mole cancer at the sour age of 60."

"Don't say that," Lydia felt a twinge in her chest from the thought. 

"What, why?" He turned his head to face hers, laughing still about it. 

"Because I don't want to think of a world like that," she bit her bottom lip, then twisted her neck back to face the ceiling. "A world where you're dead." is what she wanted to say, but instead she finished with, “I can’t handle anymore death.”

Stiles’ mouth was gaped open - he was looking at her like he’d just seen the sun for the first time. She recognized it as ‘Lydia actually cares about me’ face, because he made it a lot when she ever said anything nice to him. He closed his mouth, finally, then he grabbed her hand, giving it a light squeeze before letting go. With that he whispered, "Well thankfully you don't have to. Can't get rid of me that easily, now can you?"

Lydia found tears running down the side of her face and into her perfectly curled hair. They were bittersweet tears - loving the memories of the happy past, but missing them so severely it brought a deep pain in her chest. She wiped the tears from the memory and looked at her phone. 8:35. She sighed again, her fingers now tapping less patiently and more impatiently on her abdomen. 5 minutes late was on time for Stiles, but it didn't keep her from worrying. 

God she missed him. She thought back to the first day she actually acknowledged Stiles Stilinski. She was on her bed at home, not here in this dorm, and yes she always knew who he was - it was almost impossible not to know the sheriff's son. The Stilinski the teachers always yelled at, the trouble maker goofball all the lacrosse players made fun of behind his back. She met Stiles in 3rd grade, with his over worn Power Rangers shirt as he stared at her across class all day. However, in her room was the first day she learned his name. Like really learned it; at least cared to remember it. She was high on whatever drugs she took for her anxiety and all she remembered was a sweet Stiles coming to check on her. He was the only one who ever checked on her. The only one (other than Allison obviously) out of the entire school to come and make sure she was okay. 

Now she was lying on her bed, waiting for him to call her on the phone, wishing she could just see his mole-covered face in person for the first time in these excruciating months. She wanted to hug him; kiss him; hold his hand. 

She let out a loud sigh and picked up her phone, checking the time again. 8 minutes late. It was 8 minutes Lydia, calm down. Stiles hardly ever even remembered what day it was, his concept of time was always off. She laid it back down on the bed and stared back at the ceiling. 2 more minutes passed and she sat up, bringing her phone with her. Maybe she should just call him. It was his turn tonight, but he could've fallen asleep. His sleep schedule had been ridiculous lately, his internship keeping him up at strange hours of the day and night. 

She pulled up his contact and started to press the green little phone button when Incoming Call appeared on her screen. It was an unknown number. She answered anyway, falling back into the bed as she said, "Hello?" She said it with mystery, wondering if assuming it was Stiles was too hopeful.

"Uh yes hi," Stiles said on the other side of the phone. He sounded weird, like he was trying to make his voice deeper. "I'd like to order a pizza,"

She smiled to herself, deciding to play along, "Sorry sir, you have the wrong number. This is a supernatural crisis hotline, are you experiencing anything supernaturally distressing at the present?"

She could hear him chuckle to himself, practically hear the smile curving up mouth: "That depends on what you define as supernaturally distressing."

"Hm, well," she flipped on her side, her arm propping up her head, "Are you being haunted?"

"Mmm, by hunger, yes,"

She shook her head, even though he couldn't see her. "Sorry, hunger doesn't qualify as a supernatural occurrence. Have you been bitten by a supernatural being or perhaps burst into flames without explanation?"

"God no," he paused, then, "but I might do that exploding thing if I can't order a pizza."

She might explode if she can't see him. "Well, if that happens then feel free to give us a call back." She missed his face. She wished he had facetimed her. "Why did you call me anyway? You usually FaceTime,"

"God, pizza places say the weirdest things sometimes. If you wanted to ask me out then all you had to do was ask." 

"Stiles, I'm serious," she whined, "what happened to your phone?"

He sighed, but it wasn't an aggravated kind, it was just his normal restless sigh that said "no one ever enjoys fun like I do." "I…." He hung on the "I" like he was thinking of a lie, "left it at home after leaving in a rush,"

She glanced at the clock and frowned. "Where were you going in such a rush? It's almost 9 at night?"

"Well I had to catch an early train so I could pick up my pizza," before Lydia could figure out what that meant he said, "then I changed my mind on the train - you know there's just something about train stations that give me the heebie jeebies. Can't quite put my finger on it."

"Hm, maybe it's the 3 months of purgatory imprisonment thing," she was smirking to herself now, wondering why she ever went along with his ridiculous jokes. "Erased from existence can really put a number on a person." 

"Nah, that's not it," she knew he was smiling. There was something about how his voice got higher when he was smiling, when he was truly, wholly happy. "I mean 3 months? 3 months is nothing."

She could tell he was walking now. It sounded like he was entering a building of some sort, she could hear every breath he walked like it was an incline. "Is that so?"

"Yeah I mean, now a year? A year is a long time. Even longer would be something like, you know, 10 years or so.. That's something to really put a number on a person...or say, a banshee."

She bit her bottom lip, hoping he'd remembered. "A banshee huh? Sounds kinda supernatural to me, maybe you should try this hotline I know about."

"Depends on your definition of what a hotline is." He took a big step, almost like a leap. 

"Well, there's a phone line,"

"Right, yeah, implied by the line part, right."

"And the person on the other end of that line is really hot."

"Hm," another leap. What was he doing? "Sounds dirty." Then she could have sworn she heard an elevator door ding open. 

Her brows furrowed, "Stiles, you never told me who's phone this is,"

"Oh, this? It's the pizza guys."

Lydia sat up then, her expression purely puzzled now. "The pizza guys?"

"Well yeah, how else was I supposed to call you?"

Stiles Stilinski had officially lost his mind, she decided. "Stiles, you could have just waited to call me until you got back home. You didn't need to steal some guy's phone,"

He cracked up laughing, "Who said anything about stealing? You hear that? She thought I stole your phone haha …. Dude I'm gonna give it back relax, okay? Geesh, just take a deep breath or something buddy," She heard some voice on the other end, it was muffled but she assumed it was the pizza guy. 

"Stiles…" She dragged out his name just like she always did when he had a huge scheme cooked up but was still in the works of sharing it. "What are you up to?" 

"Why would you think I'm up to something?”

She huffed, irritated, "Because you're always up to something."

"Valid point - oh oh right here right here, yeah yeah yeah," she listened carefully, hoping to be given any clue of where the hell her boyfriend was. Then Stiles abruptly said. "Gotta go Lyds, I have a pizza to deliver,"

She was so so so so confused. "To who? Stiles Stilinski, what are you up to?"

"Okay love you bye!"

He hung up on her. She didn't even get to say it back. He knew how much she hated it when he hung up before she could say it back. She was angry now. She silently screamed and was seconds from throwing her phone on the pillow when a knock resonated through her dorm door. Lydia checked the clock again. It was minutes from 9, why was anyone at her door?

Lydia angrily got up from her seat, the fact that Stiles didn't even really mention their anniversary was making her fume. She marched to the door and slung it open, fully ready to see one of the annoying freshmen from down the hall ask for toilet paper again (as if their RA couldn’t help with that).. 

However, it wasn't some freshman. Instead, it was a pizza delivery man. He looked so annoyed, and his expression had nothing on it but disdain. Lydia poked her head out the door, looking both ways to see if Stiles was anywhere - but he was nowhere to be seen. The pizza guy opened the box and it was her favorite kind of dessert pizza - a chocolate drizzle spelling out "happy meetaversary - love Stiles"

She was still annoyed, but touched. The guy handed her the pizza, mumbled something about already being paid, and walked away. She noticed his cell phone in his back pocket - she was truly so confused. She closed the door, staring at the pizza in her hand - what was he up to? His couldn't just be it - it was Stiles. He loved to go out of his way to-

"You're gonna share that right?" 

Lydia about leaped out of her body and ascended into the heavens. It was a miracle the pizza was still in her hands as she fell back into the door, her heart pounding hard, and her eyes staring straight at Stiles lying across her bed. His ankles were crossed, (shoes off because he was smart), his arms were folded behind his head as if he'd been there all day. 

"Stiles," she was holding her chest, her heart racing. "What. The. Hell." She looked at his goofy grin and his stupid plaid shirt and dear god, she realized just how much she missed him. He got up from the bed, looking apologetic. However, instead of apologizing, he said sheepishly, "I couldn't wait for Christmas break?" He was scratching the back of his neck and his smile was crooked and without another thought she sat the pizza down on her desk and dove straight in to kiss him. 

He pulled back after a minute to talk, because that was something he could never stop doing: “I’m guessing pizza was better than flowers? I almost got flowers but I just didn’t feel like flowers was the way to go, you know? Flowers are safe, predictable, but pizza-”

“Stiles,”

He clamped his lips closed, a smile sneaking behind his adorable lips, “Shut up?”

“No, actually,” she laughed, brushing the side of his cheek with her thumb. She had missed every single part of this man. “I was just going to say thank you.”

“Yeah?” his voice almost squeaked. It was one of her favorite things, when his voice went up just slightly as if she still made him nervous. “‘Cause I just spent six hours in a car hoping to god you would actually like this kind of surprise.”

She just hugged him then, so tight she wouldn’t be surprised if air was hard for him. Through his shirt she mumbled, “The only kind of surprise I would ever be okay with is you.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys,” he teased her, hugging her back almost just as tight. “Happy meetaversary, Lyds.”

She didn’t let go. Letting go might mean he’d have to go back home, one day, somewhere down the road. “Happy meetaversary, Stiles. I can’t believe I’ve known you for eleven years.”

He kissed the top of her head, not wanting to let go either: “I guess we can say that my ten year plan was fool proof.”

She looked up then, her lips pursed as she looked up at her goofy smiling boyfriend, “Are you saying you started your 10 year plan in the 3rd grade?”

“Well, I mean then it was like a week's worth of a plan,” he stretched out his mouth, making that expression that showed all his teeth like he was in distress. It always made her smile. He always made her smile. “It was revised to a more realistic game plan.”

“Well,” she pulled back just slightly, her hands resting on his hips, “What’s the game plan now?”

“Uhhh,” Stiles ran a hand over his face and stretched an eyebrow, “well I mean, I … I’m already dating you, so ... nothing?”

Lydia rolled her eyes at him, wagging her head as she said, “No you dummy, the game plan for the weekend?”

“Oh! Right, of course, game plan for the weekend,” he pulled away from her, making her arms feel suddenly cold without his embrace. He grabbed the pizza and came back in front of her, his eyebrows wiggling up and down his forehead. “That is a surprise. For right now, desert.”

She hated surprises, she really did, but she really meant it when she said that if Stiles was involved - she could love absolutely anything. She tiptoed up and pecked a kiss on his cheek, her face beaming as she said, “You’re the best,”

He shook his head, standing his ground, “Nope, I’m not gonna tell you - not this time.”

She grabbed the pizza from him and shrugged, “Okay,” she opened the pizza box as Stiles looked at her like she was a different person entirely. “As long as the day’s with you, I don’t care what we do.”

He raised one brow up his forehead, “Not one care?”

“Nope,”

“Not even the slightest flicker of concern? Not even a tingle of wanting control?”

“Stiles,” she pulled out the piece that said “love Stiles” on it, readying herself to eat, “you planned out a ten year scheme to date me as a 3rd grader and succeeded. Clearly, I have no room to doubt your superior game planning abilities.”

“Right,” he stood there, watching her closely. She smiled at him and sat down at her bed so she could eat. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “Right.”

“You wanna tell me don’t you?”

He landed beside her on the bed, making her bounce up a little as he said, “Please can I tell you? You’re gonna love it and I can’t wait to see your face when I tell you how mind-blowingly perfect this game plan really is-”

“Stiles,”

“Hm?” he licked his top lip, his leg propping up his arm as he looked at her with the utmost attention. “Oh right, shut up -” he gave her a thumbs up, “you got it.”

“If I wanted you to shut up I would do this,” she kissed him firmly on the lips, then pulled back quicker than either would have liked. She was making a point right now though, they could do more kissing after she ate her food. 

“Then what -” he blinked like he was trying to drag himself back to earth, “what were you gonna say?”

“I just missed you,” she combed a gentle hand through his once gelled hair, her fingers tracing his freckles shaped like constellations - her own, made up, better than the original ones. 

Stiles gave her that look that just made her knees weak every time. It was the same look he gave her when she first kissed him that day in the locker room. The same look he gave her when he saved her from Eichen House. The same look he gave her on homecoming, or in the hospital later that week, or every single time she was in the hospital and he came to see her before anyone else. The same look he gave her every single day - it was this look of pure bewilderment - as if he didn’t know how he deserved this - that rooted from sincere, unwavering love. He whispered, “I just missed you too,” so sweetly, so softly, and then kissed her again. And again. And again. 

Sooner or later they ate their pizza, and they watched a movie, and Lydia just had to remind herself over and over and over again that the distance wasn’t forever. He was here with her now, and that’s what mattered. Besides, she’d graduate in a year (perks of coming in as a junior) - there’s no telling where life would take her then. Preferably, it would be much closer to Stiles, who still had a few more years in school and training before he could officially join the FBI force. She wouldn’t mind living in Washington, DC - there were some good mathematician positions available through government jobs she could easily get while working on her Masters. 

A loud bang hit the wall and both Stiles and Lydia jumped, the sound of guys cheering following quickly after it. He shook his head as he pulled her closer in, “I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you choose to stay in the dorms,” 

Lydia smiled and shrugged into him, “There’s something about the loud chaos of it all… I don’t know, it reminds me of home.”

He scoffed, then said, “Speaking of home…” he sighed, Lydia afraid to know where that was going. “Scott called me.”

“What’d he say?” The love interests were fighting on screen now, Lydia half paying attention as she waited for Stiles to answer. 

“He was inviting us all over for Christmas dinner.” 

Lydia sat up a little to look at him, “Why do you make that sound like it’s the next apocalypse?”

“Uh, hello, Lydia ... have you had Scott’s mom’s food? It tastes like a werewolf’s regurgitated food, okay? Like the food the mom bird gives to it’s little chicks, but the very last bit that has a little stomach bile attached to it.”

Lydia scrunched up her face and stuck out a tongue, “Okay, okay, I get the picture,” the relief in her overcame her muscles, her joints again. She didn’t even realize how tense just the name Scott makes her sometimes. Not in a bad way, but just out of worry for her friends. Scott chose to stay close to Beacon Hills, which resulted in him being there more often than not with his newbee werewolves. He traveled a lot, however, his current werewolf adventures brought him all the way to Florida a couple months back. She was always worried for him - she may be across the country right now, but he was still her alpha, her pack leader, her friend. “We’ll just make sure to bring our own food, too, then.” Stiles was quiet, staring at the sheets, so she said, “And what else did he say?”

“Hm?” he snapped out of his daze, “What’d you mean?”

Lydia turned herself around in his arms so she could look up at him, his sleepy face blinking. She said, “You’re acting weird, he had to have said something else.”

“I- I don’t know, not really, it was just…” he sighed, unconsciously starting to rub circles on her back. “I could just tell in his voice, you know? It's Scott, I can always tell when something’s not right … and something wasn’t right.”

Lydia frowned, “Do you think he’s in trouble?”

“Not imminent trouble no,” he huffed out a short breath, “but I think there’s a lot more going on Scott’s plate than just Christmas plans. I don’t know … I asked him about it but he just shrugged it off, said it was a new pack member drama or some kind of bullshit like that. I know he’s been having trouble with hunters again.” 

“He’ll be okay, Stiles,” she wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed, “It’s Scott. He’s always okay. If he needs us, he'll let us know."

"Your banshee senses aren't tingling or anything right? No feeling of impending doom or scary dreams about supernatural werewolf deaths?"

She rocked her head no as her chin rested on his chest, "If they were you'd be the first to know." Stiles seemed to ease up at that, his body relaxing under her, his eyes softening as he gazed down. Then she said, "You have to learn to relax, Stiles. You can't keep living in DC terrified that all your friends are dying - we're not in Beacon Hills anymore,"

His brows furrowed, "I don't do that...do I?" 

"Stiles. You called me three times last week while I was in class just to make sure I made it to class okay,"

He bit into his top lip and sucked in, "Okay, you make a good point. But can you really blame me? Lyds, we lived in constant fear for our lives for so long ... sometimes I wake up terrified no one remembers me anymore - or that I've forgotten someone very important and I'll never know who it was - or that one day I'll just forget you and -"

"Stiles," she gently placed a hand on his cheek, giving him a smile that told him everything was going to be okay, "you're not gonna forget me. No ones going to forget anyone, okay? The riders tried that on us and they failed, because no one could ever forget Stiles Stilinski."

He gave her a half smile, tears pricking his eyes, "My mom did."

It was silent. Lydia wasn't sure how to respond to that. She searched for the right words to assure him that his mom never really forgot him, when Lydia's phone started ringing. She pulled it from her nightstand and felt a short moment of panic. The name on the screen was Scott. He never called her out of the blue, especially not on a Friday night at 11pm. 

She tried to look neutral as she said, "Hey Scott," Stiles sat up at the name, his muscle tensing all over again. She listened, then said, "Yeah he's right here. He forgot his phone back at home." Lydia smiled at Stiles and said to him, "Scott’s been trying to call you. He got worried that something happened."

He laughed, the coincidence uncanny. He fell back into the bed and put out a hand for the phone. Lydia handed it to him and he said, "Hey mom, sorry I didn't text you,"

"Stiles oh my god, how are you even with Lydia? Don't guys live like six hours away from each other?"

"I have a three day weekend, mom, it wasn't that big of a deal. I promise I'll get my homework done."

He heard him sigh, "If I had thought you'd be with Lydia I would have called her hours ago. I was afraid to call or text her and get her all worried if you were just the dumb ass that didn't charge his phone."

"No, I'm just the dumbass who left my phone six hours away. What's up? You sound freaked,"

He was silent for a minute, causing both Lydia and Stiles stress, then he said, "I'm in Massachusetts,"

Stiles rose up from his lounging position to give Lydia a look. He turned the phone on speaker and said, "You're here? What the hell are you doing across the country? Is the national Werewolf Con here or something?" 

"That's a long story, but these hunters, man, they never stop, they …” his breath rattled in his chest. Stiles was pretty sure he heard Peter’s voice in the background, another unrecognizable one farther away. “I need you guys' help."

Lydia nodded, not even questioning it. Stiles responded, "Anything you need buddy, we'll be there." 

Scott took a moment to respond, then, "I'll text Lydia the location. Meet us there in an hour." Without even a goodbye, Scott hung up. 

Lydia took back her phone and looked at Stiles with wide eyes. "Told you he'd call us if he needed us," she sighed, “I wasn't expecting that to happen so soon, but what can I say - I am psychic after all,”

Stiles didn’t hear her. He was sitting there, staring at the bed in trance-like thought. Lydia was afraid what he was letting his mind wander to, but then he looked up and gave her a genuine smile. He was ready to jump off the bed when he said, “I’m sure it’ll be a long ride there - I’ll drive.”

She grabbed his hand, just to get him to look back at her. He did, and she asked, “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” he gave a little shrug to readjust his flannel on his shoulders, “I get to see my best friend. I mean c’mon, I haven’t seen Scott in months.” She gave him a look that screamed ‘I’m not an idiot’ and so he said, “Dire circumstances aside, I’d call it a win.”

She could sense the fear he was carrying and she felt a rush of deja vu - all the times in Beacon Hills, Stiles at her side, panicking on the inside but always jokes on the outside. Maybe it was being a banshee, maybe it was the emotional tether that was only strengthened when Stiles had to go under for his dad - but she always knew how he was feeling. She could sense it, practically feel it herself. When Stiles was possessed by the nogitsune - that was the most emotionally painful experience she had dealt with in a very long time. She could feel every bit of his pain, every bit of his fear, his panic, his sadness. However, it was Stiles, and he liked to pretend his problems didn’t exist. She nodded, accepting he wasn’t going to break, and said, “Okay, let’s go then.”

He had his keys in his hands already, spinning them around his index finger and catching it in his palm. He started to say something when he gasped, looking at the pizza box. “Wait,” he put out a hand to stop her, as if she was moving (which she wasn’t). “Oh my god, I completely forgot,”

Lydia looked at the empty pizza box and said, “Forgot what?”

He was digging his pants pocket, his tongue sticking out in the corner of his mouth when he said, “This,” He pulled out a faded pink pipe cleaner in the shape of a ring and a plastic rhinestone sloppily glued to the stem; it looked over 10 years old. Stiles had a goofy grin on his face as he said, “Happy meetaversary.”

Lydia took the small little arts and craft in her hands. It looked so familiar, but she had no idea how. “What… where did you get this?”

“When I moved out from my room I went through an old keepsake box. My dad made me keep one every school year, but I never went through them until moving out. In my 3rd grade keepsake box I found this - I made it for you in arts and crafts one day, probably one of the first days we really met. I remember I brought it to you and asked you to be my girlfriend,” he scratched the back of his neck and chuckled, “you laughed in my face and I guess I kept it in hopes that one day you’d accept it.”

Lydia was looking at the ring with teary eyes, “Stiles,” she looked up at him, “thank you.”

He gave her a silly wink, then shrugged it off by saying, “It’s not like I spent any money on it, Lyds, I just found it in an old box-”

Lydia pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him. He was shocked at first, but quickly melted into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist, Lydia raveling her arms around his neck. After a long moment she pulled back for breath, her forehead pressed against his. “I meant thank you for never giving up. You never gave up on us, even after years of me rejecting you and treating you so horribly - you never gave up.”

“How could I ever give up on Lydia Martin?” he shrugged bashfully, “I knew you were my soulmate the day I met you. Nothing else compares to that.”

She pecked another kiss on his mouth and said, “I love you, Stiles Stilinski.”

He grinned, those very words from Lydia always putting a smile to his face. “I love you back, Lydia Martin - always will.”

She dove in for a hug then, squeezing him like he might disappear again if she let go. Stiles was holding her tight, too, face in her hair, when he glanced at the clock on her nightstand;  “Ah fuck,” he reluctantly pulled back, “we gotta go,”

She nodded, looking at the time herself. She went to grab her jacket as she asked, “You think this will become a regular thing now that all of this hunter stuff is resurfacing? Scott calling us in when he needs us at late hours of the night?” 

Stiles, hands on his hips, flannel flipped back behind his hands, said, “I wouldn’t expect it any other way.”

She kissed him on the cheek and grabbed his hand, “Well, c’mon then, we have an alpha to save.” He grabbed his jacket from the bed as Lydia dragged him out of the dorm room, door closing behind them. 

And Stiles drove them to the location Scott shared, and they parked his jeep out at the park, and they got out simultaneously to see Scott and Peter bloody and battered with two other presumably werewolves with fear in their eyes - and Stiles and Lydia knew, this was a first of many late nights with the pack. 

[spicywarl0ck]

Hey, happy Friday.

For DADWC, how about “If I can’t call you honey, what pet names can I call you?” for your Solavellan OCs? Thank you!

Thank you for the prompt for @dadrunkwriting tonight <3 I loved it very much. Also, @rusted-pipe-of-wisdom asked for the same prompt, so I am going to answer this with a Solas/Yara Lavellan Fake dating prompt

“So, what about honey?”

It was hard for him to shrug off the irritation he felt, his hands trying to busy themselves as they held on to the edges of his desk. That was not even close to an appropriate nickname for him, especially not one that she could possibly drop in front of his family. Solas probably had made the wrong choice after all, and he indeed asked himself if he wouldn’t prefer the endless pestering of Mythal when it came to his love life.

But then again, it was a rather long life for someone immortal.

“Not good, huh?” From his expression alone, Yara guessed her bright green eyes aimed at him. She looked far too comfortable sitting on his sofa, clad in one of his shirts and her panties only.

And yet, the sight held something soothing as well. He was not alone for once, brooding over his books while ceasing all contact with others. She was… what could be called refreshing in a way.

Still, he threw her a pointed look before he took a glance at the book in front of him again in preparation for his lecture tomorrow. No good came from discussing this matter now, and he indeed was not ready for any ‘pet names’ she could come up with.

But she seemed to think otherwise.

“Okay, but… if I can’t call you honey, what pet names can I call you?” The question was sincere while she took a sip from the hot cocoa he made her, the cream lingering behind on her lips, causing her to look so enticing.

He wondered if she did this on purpose.

“There are no pet names needed, Lethallan.” he pressed back, his eyes sharp when he looked at her. “You may just call me Solas.”

“But that’s boring,” she exclaimed with a huff, slightly leaning forward to give him a stern look. Yara might have been young, but she obviously held a strong will.

“Also, you want to convince your family that this is real, right? This isn’t going to work without pet names. How are we even supposed to convince them we are a couple?” Yara added, the hot chocolate abandoned as she simply leaned against his desk, keeping him off his work on purpose.

“Whether you like it or not, but I am your girlfriend now, you know?” A cheeky smile spread on her face when she let herself drop down on his lap, slender fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“And I doubt you want them to watch us, doing… things to get them on the right track,” she added with a smirk, a surprised gasp escaping her when he leaned in to kiss her.

Her lips tasted like sweet cream and cocoa, and her skin was so incredibly soft when he stretched his fingers over her bare thighs. He could’ve even sworn that he heard an enticing mewl break out of her lips until he claimed her mouth with his tongue.

The kiss was demanding and devouring, taking away her breath as he kept going on, his fingers digging into her skin. He felt the heat rising up within her when he pressed on, felt how her whole body trembled, so eager to be touched.

“Why don’t we discuss the terms of our… endearment’s at a later point?” Solas answered back. “The family dinner isn’t held until next week. We surely can come up with something in that time,” he added while his lips trailed over the soft skin of her neck.

“Hm… and what do we do now?” Yara asked, another whimper breaking loose as she arched her neck. Though, he could tell that she knew exactly what the rest of the evening would entail from the way her eyes glinted.

“I have some things in mind.” His lips twitched into a smirk while he held her down, his hands shoving the shirt she wore just a few inched upwards to feel the smooth skin of her body. And, she seemed so eager to let her fall into his embrace, her hips rocking against him in a quiet answer.

“What are you waiting for then?” she asked breathlessly. Yara nibbled on his ear softly, coaxing a hitched breath out of him when she pressed herself closer against him in want. “Take me, Hah’ren.” The Dalish added in a tease, a pleased moan slipping past her lips when he bit down on her neck.

It wasn’t firm enough to hurt her but more than enough to pleasure her and cause her to throw her head back in excitement. She wanted this just as much as he did, and he might have complied… if it wouldn��t have been for the doorbell that announced the arrival of their food order.

“Maybe later then,” Solas answered as he let her slip off his lap, the desire in his eyes still lingering, though.

[sassyhobbits]

everything i wanted (ONS oneshot)

here it is! the promised celebratory One Night Standards oneshot! I hope you all enjoy this. I know I had a fun time writing it! thank you all for the love and support for this story, also with your patience since i havent been able to get out as much writing as i would like like recently! <3

masterlist

~~~

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius had never known that joy could come in the form of a person until she welcomed her daughter into the world.

Eliora was a new bright light in both Aelin and Rowan’s life, who brought them new levels of happiness with each passing day. Aelin couldn’t have been more blessed with her daughter. Eliora was a jubilant child, with wide, curious eyes that matched her mother’s and a sweet, gummy smile she flashed from time to time that made both of her parents positively melt.

Most importantly, Eliora was healthy. Although Aelin’s pregnancy had been rather easy, the birth was less so. It was something Aelin had prepared herself for, knowing her own mother had a difficult time giving birth as well. So, when Eliora was born perfectly healthy and Aelin healed from the tumultuous birthing process, both she and Rowan knew that some of the gods had been looking out for them.

That had been four months ago. Four months of raising their daughter, of getting used to being parents, no matter how exhausting it could be. Aelin wouldn’t change it for the world.

Aelin smiled down at her daughter as she wiggled on the bed below her, sticking a tiny fist into her mouth. She was getting her changed into a pale-blue dress that Lysandra had found and insisted it would look wonderful on Eliora. Aelin wasn’t even surprised that her friend had taken to styling her baby as well as the princess.

“Don’t you look so beautiful?” Aelin cooed, pinching Eliora’s little feet, making her flash a wide, toothless smile. Aelin laughed before grabbing a bow that matched her daughter’s dress, slipping in over her silvery-blonde hair that was getting thicker by the day. She looked positively adorable, perfect for the day.

The day of Lorcan and Elide’s wedding.

Aelin was so incredibly happy for Elide, that she had found love. Although Aelin and Lorcan had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start, once Aelin realized how much he truly cared for Elide, things had gotten easier between them.

And now they would be married.

Aelin had already prepared herself for the day, wearing a silky, pale-pink midi-dress that Lysandra had sent her way and a pair of sensible, strappy heels. She didn’t bother to do much with her hair, knowing the Eliora often managed to grab handfuls of it whenever it was in reach. Any efforts would have been quickly undone.

“Are you two nearly ready?” Rowan called from the conjoining sitting room, a good-natured sort of exasperation in his tone.

“Having a hot wife takes time, Rowan,” Aelin hollered back. “I wouldn’t be complaining if I was you.”

Although she couldn’t see him, Aelin could picture him scoffing out a tiny laugh and shaking his head. He wouldn’t want to be amused, but he would be anyway.

She heard footfalls coming her way, and soon enough Rowan walked through the threshold. Instantly, a bright smile lit his face, as it always did when he saw the two of them together.

“You look beautiful, Fireheart,” he said, coming to her side and pressing a quick kiss to her temple, a broad hand resting on the dip of her waist. He looked down at Eliora, and his face softened even further. “You both look beautiful.”

“I can’t get over how perfect she is,” Aelin commented, squeezing her daughter’s chubby thighs. “Every day, it just blows me away.”

“Me too.”

They stood there for a few moments, gazing down at their daughter as she looked wide-eyed up at the two of them. Aelin felt as though she could watch her for hours. But, she didn’t have the time for that today.

“I suppose we should get going,” Rowan sighed. “I think it would be bad form if we were late.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Rowan leaned down and scooped Eliora into his arms. Aelin always loved the sight of her massive husband holding their tiny daughter. The first time he had held her, she had promptly broken into tears. Even now, seeing her family, always had her on the verge of crying once again.

But, she controlled herself. She didn’t want to ruin her makeup before the wedding.

The ceremony was being held at the palace out in the gardens. It was a perfect day for an outdoor wedding. The mid-spring air was warm and pleasant, the sky a brilliant blue with a few fat clouds floating across lethargically. The air smelled heavily of the sweet flowers blooming from every corner of the palace’s expansive gardens.

The wedding wasn’t a huge affair, kept mostly to friends and family. There were a few rows of white seats lined up before the altar that was situated beneath an arc of white roses. Some of the seats were already filled up. Aelin said hello to Elide’s parents. Her mother, Marion, apparently hadn’t been able to stop crying all day. Elide’s father, Cal, had been doing his best to console her throughout the morning, though Aelin could tell he was getting a little misty-eyed as well.

She and Rowan went towards their seats near the front, finding some of their companions already there. Lysandra’s face lit up in a comically large grin once she laid eyes on Eliora in Rowan’s arms, immediately standing and reaching out to take her. Lysandra’s own baby bump was just beginning to show, nothing more than a tiny swell under her green dress. Lysandra and Aedion had taken to commandeering Eliora from time to time, saying they wanted to give Rowan and Aelin some alone time. Aelin knew her cousin and his wife honestly just wanted some extra practice with babies before their own came.

“How are you, sweet girl?” Lysandra cooed, taking Eliora from Rowan and bouncing her on her hip. “Don’t you look so beautiful in the dress Auntie Lys got you?”

“She is the cutest baby in the world, isn’t she?” Aelin agreed, leaning into Rowan’s side.

“For now, at least.” Aedion shrugged before kissing the top of Eliora’s silver head and placing a hand on Lysandra’s stomach.  “At least until my kid gets her.”

Aelin gaped at her cousin. “Shut your traitorous mouth!”

Fenrys then arrived, clapping Rowan’s shoulder in greeting. He looked as if he were about to strike up a conversation before he laid eyes on Eliora being bounced in Lysandra’s arms. His attention was then instantly diverted. Aelin’s daughter was always quite popular when she was in a crowd.

Rowan’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. Aelin’s heart was full as she watched her friends and her daughters, took in their laughs and their smiles. What a wonderful family she had amassed in these years.

“What are you thinking about, Fireheart?” Rowan murmured.

“Just… how lucky we are to have all of this. How much I love them all… and love you.”

He smiled before leaning down and pressing a long, lingering kiss to her lips, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I love you too.”

Aelin would have liked to linger in the moment a bit longer, but they were interrupted by Fenrys’ obnoxiously loud laughter. He had managed to steal Eliora from Lysandra and slip his sunglasses on to her tiny face.

“Check out how cool she looks!” Fenrys announced with a bright laugh.

“Oh, no,” Aelin muttered, shaking her head. She quickly strode towards Fenrys, taking the sunglasses off of Eliora’s head and shoving them back over the lord’s eyes. “Get those tacky things off my daughter’s perfect face!” The princess took Eliora back firmly into her arms, the toddler releasing a stream of nonsense baby-babble, to which Aelin nodded seriously. “You’re right, sweet girl. Those frames are so last season.”

Fenrys gawked in offence, head swiveling towards those around them. “They are not last season! Rowan, tell her they’re not last season!”

Rowan didn’t even bother to respond, looking towards his friend dryly. Once Fenrys realized he wouldn’t be getting any support from the prince, he looked towards Lysandra and Aedion for backup. But, Lysandra could only shrug apologetically.

“Sorry, Fen. They are last season.”

Fenrys continued to sputter in protest while everyone else began to drift to their seats, the beginning of the ceremony nearing.

Aelin took a seat between Rowan and Lysandra, holding Eliora, who was taking in the sights around her, on her lap. The band settled into their position, taking their instruments from their cases. Aelin was more than excited to see Elide. She and Lysandra had helped her pick out her gown, but the effect of seeing her now, with her hair and make-up and veil, was sure to make Aelin cry.

“I can’t believe they’re getting married,” Aelin remarked.

Lysandra snorted softly. “I can’t believe Lorcan is taking Elide’s last name.”

“Hm… Lord Lorcan Lochan. It had a nice ring to it, right?”

They giggled amongst themselves, but their laughter faded once a towering figure appeared on the altar, followed by a heavily robed priestess. Aelin had to admit that Lorcan Salvaterre cleaned up well. His tux was cut to him perfectly, long, black hair shining as it fell down his back. The most striking difference was the lack of the scowl on his face.

“Did I look this nervous on our wedding day?” Rowan murmured into Aelin’s ear.

“Which one?” she asked absentmindedly, straightening the bow on Eliora’s head. “Our first one, worse. I could have sworn you were about to piss yourself.”

“And whose fault was that?”

“Your meddling cousins that didn’t give me time to respond after you decided to confess your love out of the blue on the night before the wedding.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

Eventually, Eliora appeared to grow tired of the view from Aelin’s lap, reaching out towards Rowan. Aelin handed her daughter to Rowan, who was very content to be held up against his chest. She was a true daddy’s girl and had Rowan wrapped around her little finger.

A few more minutes passed before a hush fell over the crowd and the musicians began to play. It was a serene, lilting song, and old Terrasenian lullaby. Aelin’s mother had sung it to her in her youth and now she sang it to her own daughter.

The crowd rose to their feet, looking down the aisle. Aelin already had a too-wide grin on her face, throat clogged up with tears she was trying to keep at bay. Rowan, ever the observant one, noticed and shifted Eliora into his left arm, freeing his other hand to hold Aelin’s tightly. She dared a glance at the altar, finding a surprising amount of emotion displayed on Lorcan’s face. He looked so, so happy, and so very in love. Aelin couldn’t imagine a better person for Elide. She knew Lorcan would love her until his last breath, would use every day in his life to make sure that Elide was happy and content.

Aelin looked back down the aisle just in time to catch the first glimpse of Elide.

She was a breathtaking bride. Elide wore a stunning gown with flowing, gossamer skirts and a bodice covered in delicate, lace flowers. The sleeves were long and gauzy, drooping from her pale shoulders and swaying in the spring breeze. Her hair was twisted up in an elegant coronet, white flowers tangled within her dark locks. Her veil drifted behind her, trailing her by a few feet. The tears sprung from Aelin’s eyes not long after that.

Elide's dark eyes, gleaming with unshed tears, were pinned on Lorcan. Aelin knew the grin she wore was solely for the man waiting for her at the altar.

Elide stepped closer to where Rowan and Aelin stood. The bride took her attention off her future husband for one moment to look towards her princess. Aelin only beamed through her tears, mouthing I love you.

Elide mouthed it back before her gaze caught on Eliora is Rowan’s arms, sending the baby a wide smile. Eliora took a break from sticking her tiny fist in her mouth to send a little smile of her own back.

Elide looked back down the aisle, back towards Lorcan and her future, and she did not falter.

The crowd all lowered themselves into their seats as Elide came to a stop before Lorcan.

Aelin rested her head against Rowan’s shoulder as the priestess began to speak, uttering ancient words that had been tying people together in Terrasen for centuries. She simply couldn’t get over how happy, how deeply in love, Lorcan and Elide were. Aelin was fairly certain the two were barely listening to the priestess, too absorbed in one another to be bothered with the rest of the world at the moment.

The time came for them to read their vows. They reached out, taking one another’s hands firmly. Elide went first. Even from where Aelin sat, she could see her friend swallow hard, no doubt trying to stop herself from crying.

“Lorcan,” Elide began, voice a bit wobbly with emotion. “I’ve never known how happy I could be until I met you. Everyday, you manage to show me new levels of bliss. Marrying you is a blessing I once hadn’t even known I needed. Now, I know I wouldn’t give you up, what we have, for the world. I love you with everything I am, Lorcan Salvaterre.”

Aelin swiped at the tears dribbling down her cheeks, Rowan wrapping his arm over her shoulder and tugging her closer to his body.

It seemed Lorcan needed a few moments to compose himself after Elide’s speech, chin tucked to his chest. He sucked down one more deep breath before facing the woman before him once more, dark brown eyes glimmering.

“Elide Lochan, you’re the love of my life,” he began. Aelin could tell how hard he was working to control his voice. “I truly don’t know what I did to deserve you. You are the brightest light in my life, the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me. I thank whatever god took pity on my miserable ass and let me walk into your life. I promise to do everything in my power to make you the happiest woman on the planet, to love and cherish you for the rest of my life. You… gods, I love you so much Elide.”

Aelin’s heart melted as she listened to Lorcan’s vows, eyes flickering up to Rowan. Even her normally stoic husband had misty eyes.

The priestess looked back and forth from Elide to Lorcan, a serene smile on her wrinkled face. She finished the ceremony, speaking the same words that had bound Rowan and Aelin three years ago.

“I’m honored to announce,” the priestess said grandly, “that under the eyes of the gods and of Terrasen, this man and woman are now wed!”

With that, Lorcan took Elide’s face into his hands and kissed her soundly. The cheers and applause erupted from the crowd, everyone rising to their feet once more for the newly-weds. Lorcan seemed reluctant to stop kissing his new wife, but he eventually pulled back and they faced their audience.

Aelin couldn’t be more excited to see where life would take the both of them.

…

The celebration following was still held in the gardens, no one wanting to put such a beautiful day to waste. They ate and drank and were happy, celebrating all the love that was in everyones’ lives.

As the day wore on, some people left, leaving only the closest of Aelin’s friends and family behind. They were scattered around a few tables, finishing off drinks and snacks as the sun began to set below the horizon.

Aelin was enjoying some girl time, finally finding some time alone with Elide and Lysandra. The boys were all sitting around together, drinking beers and entertaining Eliora.

Lysandra leaned back in her seat, absent-mindedly stroking the swell of her stomach. “I can’t believe we’re all married now.”

“All of us except for Fenrys,” Elide pointed out.

Aelin shrugged. “He’ll be hitched soon enough. He and Ress have been dating for like, four months now. They really like each other.” It was true. Everyone could tell they were already ridiculously in love with one another. Aelin was ecstatic to see two of her friends so happy with one another. They were so cute it was sickening. “I can’t believe we’re going to have another baby around here soon!”

Lysandra hummed and looked fondly at the little life growing inside of her. “It’s going to be hectic, but I’m so excited. I don’t know what all these boys are going to do with two babies to spoil.”

As one, all three of them looked towards where the boys were. Eliora has been passed from Aedion to Lorcan. He held the babe at his eye level, his normally grumpiness nowhere in sight, even as Eliora dragged her sticky hands down his face. He could only smile.

“Oh, gods,” Elide squeaked, face quickly screwing up as she began to cry.

“Elide, honey, what is it?” Lysandra asked, placing a hand on Elide’s thigh. “I know it’s so cute to see the boys with babies, and I certainly cried the first time Aedion held Eliora, but you’ve seen her and Lorcan together plenty of times and have never cried.”

“Oh, it’s just these damned hormones,” Elide sighed.

Aelin blinked, looking at her friend quizzically. She slowly raised a brow. “Hormones?”

Elide’s eyes flickered back and forth between Aelin and Lysandra, nibbling at her bottom lip for a few moments before she conceded. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?!”

“Sh!” Elide hissed, casting a quick glance towards the boys, but none of them had noted the outburst. “I haven’t told anyone yet.”

“How long have you known?”

Elide smiled sheepishly. “Two days.”

“Oh, Ellie, you couldn’t have waited until today to find out?” Aelin asked melodramatically. “Now this was a shotgun wedding!”

The girls burst out in laughter, Elide’s wiping away the tears that had escaped from her eyes. She looked towards Lorcan once more.

“I just don’t know how to tell him!”

“There is no how,” Lysandra said. “Just tell him! Gods, go right now!”

“Really?”

“Yes!” cried Aelin and Lysandra in unison, making Elide laugh some more.

Elide sucked down a deep breath, but on a brave face, and pushed to her feet, eyes locked on her new husband. She gave a firm nod. “Alright. I’m going to tell him.”

Aelin and Lysandra clapped and cheered quietly as Elide strode purposefully over to Lorcan. She placed a soft hand on her husband's arm, muttering something to him that Aelin couldn’t hear from where she was sitting. Lorcan nodded, handing Eliora back over to Rowan, whose head immediately whipped towards Aelin as if to say, What did you two do?

Aelin only held her hands up in defense. Not my fault.

Aelin and Lysandra waited until Elide and led Lorcan a respectful distance away before making their way over to their husbands. They looked towards them in question.

“What’s happening?” Aedion asked.

“Elide’s telling Lorcan she's pregnant.”

“Elide’s pregnant?!” Fenrys gasped. “Shotgun wedding!”

"That's what I said!"

"Shh! You're being too loud!"

They quieted down, watching as Elide and Lorcan conversed. They saw Elide take Lorcan’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze before she rested it over the bodice of her gown, on her stomach. Lorcan blinked once, and Aelin saw him mouth, Pregnant? To which Elide nodded.

Lorcan beamed, sweeping Elide up in his arms and twirling her around. Everyone heard her bright laughter and she threw her arms over Lorcan’s shoulders and kissed him deeply.

Aelin joined with their other friends in clapping and cheering for the couple once again. Lorcan eventually put Elide back down on her feet, the pair looking towards the crowd with too-wide grins on their faces. Instantly, some of them headed over towards where the newlyweds stood to congratulate them properly, but Aelin hung back with Rowan.

“Three babies in the palace at once…” Rowan breathed heavily. “We’ll certainly never be bored.”

“Certainly not,” Aelin agreed, looking at Eliora in her husband’s arms, who released a mighty yawn. It seemed the day had thoroughly worn her out. Aelin stood on her toes, pressing a kiss to Rowan’s lips before doing the same to Eliora’s forehead. Her daughter looked to her with wide, sleepy eyes. “You're going to have so many new friends soon!”

Aelin looked over to her companions, watching as they all laughed and smiled and embraced. There was a warm fondness in her heart as she took in the sight.

Aelin took Eliora into her own arms, holding her against her chest. She kissed her daughter’s cheek again, simply because she could, before smiling. “You’re going to have such a wonderful family, too.”

[angelsxbelle]

inch by inch.

part 1??? if i get more requests idk

request: soulmate sugawara with reader that’s nishinoya’s cousin

parings: sugawara x reader, nishinoya x reader (cousins)

warnings: nishinoya, swearing, fluff

synopsis: in which y/n l/n runs into a certain handsome gray haired boy at her cousin’s volleyball practice and just can’t seem to get him out of their head for whatever reason

yuu was your classic crackhead cousin, the one that sat at the kids table at dinner despite being a whole ass 17 year old, the one that stuck his face in his birthday cake when it was put in front of him, the one that rode his bike down a hill at top speed while screaming his lungs out

what you didn’t expect him to do, however, was almost accidentally make the best decision of your entire life happen

you both went to karasuno, you were in the same year as he was a few months older than you and you lived relatively near each other, so you saw him ever day at school

you were well aware of his volleyball team, as he was always eager to play and you had met his best friend tanaka a few times when he had come over to yuu’s house when you were visiting with family

tanaka was fun, but you had never been interested in him in a romantic way, despite the enormous blush that appeared on his face whenever you walked into the room and the stupid grin that came over him

you had just assumed all of his other teammates would be the same way

normally you didn’t have too many interactions with yuu at school since you were in different classes and didn’t really have any of the same interests, but you still always made sure to say hi regularly

he was more into sports while you had other hobbies, but your paths still intersected fairly frequently

one day, as you were getting ready to go to school your mother called out to you from another room, saying that she had made a special treat to give your cousin since it was his birthday, and she wanted you to give it to him at school since you would be seeing him there

begrudgingly you agreed, since you would have to stop by his morning practice to drop off the sweets before your first class

you made your way to school like normal, carefully carrying the basket under your arm as you walked toward your destination

looking around, you spotted the boy’s gym quickly and walked over to where you knew your cousin would be practicing with his teammates, hoping you wouldn’t cause too much of a disruption

you creaked open the door apprehensively, trying to keep a low profile and direct a minimal amount of attention towards you

you were just about to make it to the side of the gym when you heard a loud, “OIIIII!! Y/N!!!!” from across the room

you winced, looking over at the bouncing ball of energy that was nishinoya yuu, otherwise known as your nutcase of a cousin

“h- hi  yuu, i brought you these sweets from home since it’s your birthday today’, you squeaked out

“ ahHH, thanks!!!”, he yelled, making everyone turn around to look at you

“well, i better be going”, you say, as you look away from your cousin’s face your eyes pan around the room, scanning the faces of the other boys in the room, seeing a particular one with gray hair staring right into your soul, eyes as wide as saucers

you gulp, and then awkwardly make your way out of the gym, too embarrassed to say anything else, not thinking too much of what you had just seen, shutting the doors behind you and making your way to your first class

*sugawara’s point of view*

he had never seen anything like it, at least not in his three years of being at karasuno high school, not ever with anyone else he had ever met. 

sugawara koushi watched as you gracefully walked by him, despite how on edge you appeared, your hair swishing past, eyes bright and sparkling even though you weren’t looking at him.

he had gone so out of focus that he hadn’t even been hearing the words coming out of your mouth, although he could have sworn he heard the words “nishinoya” and “cousin”, thinking thank god to himself you weren’t there for anyone else.

 his thoughts twisted and turned back and forth, not able to figure out why it felt like he couldn’t breathe, or why he couldn’t stop thinking about that beautiful girl that had just walked by him.

after he was sure you were long gone, sugawara walked slowly over towards your cousin, stopping just before him, not even realizing the words about to tumble freely out of his mouth.

“h-hey noya- san, who was that?”, he said, in an almost muffled tone.

“just my absolute favorite cousin of all time!!”, yuu yelled enthusiastically.

“what’s her name? is she in your year?”

“it’s y/n, she’s a second year like me although she’s pretty mature, almost a buzzkill if i’m being honest”, he mused.

“h-huh, okay, i see”, sugawara said, almost speaking to himself as he started to walk back to where he was standing before, ready to resume the passing drills they had been doing before you had stopped by. interesting, he thought.

“ you aren’t into her or anything eh suga- san? hah!!”, nishinoya yelled from where he was in the gym over to sugawara, jokingly.

“n-no!”

shit. that was probably the most unconvincing thing he had ever said, not to mention he had just developed a fat instant crush for his kohai’s cousin out of the blue during volleyball practice. this was going to be a long ride.

the entire practice sugawara couldn’t focus, his body was moving in the routine way it did every day, but his mind was elsewhere. the moment you walked past him kept replaying over and over again in his head, like a reel from an old movie. he had never seen your face before, but it felt like he had been waiting for you for years. 

the real question though, was what next.

after practice had ended, he walked over to nishinoya once more, his body moving before his brain could.

“noya- san, what kinds of things does your cousin like’? 

“huh???? so you do like her after all do you eh?” 

“yeah, i do”

“well i’m just going to ignore the fact that you’re trying to hit on my cousin and focus on the fact that you’re asking me for girl advice, so HERE WE GO:)!!! she really likes stuff that’s more calming, and i know she’s not a huge fan of small talk and she likes to get to know people for who they are deep inside, you know intellectual stuff like that.”

“hm, i guess i can figure something out, but i think that’s really interesting, she’s not like you at all noya- san”, he laughed.

“yeah!! i think she’ll really like you though, she seems like your type!! as long as you talk to her a little bit before i’m sure she’ll be into you.”

“well, thanks for the advice noya- san, i should go to class now but thanks for your help!”

“no problem, good luck suga- san!!”, he yelled.

that morning, sugawara koushi walked away with an extra spring in his step.

not wanting to ever make you feel uncomfortable or rushing you, he took his time with getting to know you, starting with little interactions in the hallways, offering to help you with your homework, the small things that mattered.

 he couldn’t help but feel completely captivated every time you looked up at him, the butterflies in his stomach never really going away.

sugawara took his time getting to know you, waiting for the right moments to speak to you, remembering the little things that made you happy, noticing you seemed just as happy to see him as he was to see you as time passed. 

being your friend was already amazing, even he could be satisfied with just that but he just couldn’t keep his eyes off you. not for a second that you were near him, he always had no trouble listening to what you had to say, watching every word flow out of your mouth like water.

slowly but surely, you were falling for sugawara koushi as much as he had fallen for you. 

sugawara knew he was finally ready to ask you out, after weeks of finding out just how much he really did like you after dozens of conversations where he could tell you felt the same way for him too.

it was after one of your afternoon classes had just finished, when you spotted a certain gray- haired boy walking towards you that you happened to be very fond of. you let a huge smile cover your face, ready to hear whatever he had to say to you before your next class.

“hi y/n!”

“hey koushi, what’s up?”

“o- oh! not much actually, you see... uhm... i was actually wondering if you would want to go on a date with me sometime with me this weekend? it’s totally okay if you don’t though!”

“no, it’s okay koushi... i’d really like that actually... what did you have in mind?”

“r- really? i was actually wondering if this weekend on friday night we could go stargazing together, i talked to nishinoya about it and i thought it might be something you’d like to do.”

“yeah! that sounds like something i’d really enjoy, how about i meet you at your house and we walk together?”

“that sounds perfect, i guess i’ll se you then, and... thank you so much for saying yes to me!”

“no problem- i... i really like you koushi.”

“i really like you too y/n.”

and so, that weekend, y/n l/n found herself getting ready to go stargazing with sugawara koushi. you wanted to make sure you looked good, so you were careful to keep your hair neat and wear a nice outfit, one comfy enough to lay down on the grass for two hours but that would also catch his eye.

you put on your shoes, ready to walk out the door and make your way to sugawara’s house, nervousness and anticipation fluttering in your stomach as you prepared yourself to see him.

as you got to his front door and met him on his steps, you couldn’t help but notice how he looked awestruck at your appearance, his eyes as wide as saucers as he looked you up and down once, and then twice. after normal hellos, you made your way to the spot you had designated for your viewing.

as you approached your destination, you couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as you saw the hilly fields of grass outstretched in front of you, with a warm breeze slowly whipping through the long dark green strands as faint clouds shifted above you, revealing a bright blanket of scattered stars adorning the sky. 

you looked over at sugawara, his soft eyes and gray hair glistening in the moonlight, looking almost as perfect as the scene in front of you. 

he took your hand in his as you moved forward up the biggest hill in front of you, stopping at the top of it to look out onto the small town you had called home your whole life, the lights inside looking absolutely tiny as you looked over the onstretch of scenery below you, the hem of your dress slowly fluttering with the wind flowing by you.

“koushi... this is beautiful”

“not as beautiful as you.”

you laid down on the grass together, careful to keep the hem of your dress from sliding above the top of your thighs as you stretched out comfortably on your back next to him, the midnight blue sky in perfect view above you.

“y/n... i just wanted to say i think you’re really amazing and i hope after this we can go on more dates together.”

“i’d love that koushi.”

you looked up, your hand brushing alongside his, bodies close, you could hear him breathing and feel his chest moving up and down, watching the bright orbs in front of your eyes dance along next to the fluffy clouds mingling alongside them.

you turned back to your side, looking over at sugawara, just as he turned to look over at you. you stared deep into his soft brown eyes, and you could feel his staring right back into yours. 

you had never felt a connection like this with anyone else, not in high school, not in middle school. he was the one person you had ever been able to look at and tell instantly how much they cared for you.

you slid in closer, inch by inch, just a little bit closer, as you watched him do the same, his fingers reaching underneath your jaw, gently pushing your hair out of the way as he pulled you closer.

and then your lips met.

his lips were soft, warm, it felt like a hug and a warm cup of coffee from a long lost acquaintance, like security and reckless excitement at the same time. 

you felt like you could stay like this forever.

and then he pulled away slowly, looking deep into your eyes as you looked deep into your eyes as he brushed his fingers along your cheek.

you buried your face into his neck, taking in his scent as you never wanted to leave this position. you felt like being close to him was the only place you could truly rest, the only place you wanted to rest.

you talked for hours that night, about anything from books and movies you both happened to enjoy to sharing deep vulnerabilities, you had no trouble letting each other in as you felt completely in tune with him, until you looked at his watch and realized it was 3am already.

groggily, you both managed to stand up and slowly make your way back home, with him dropping you off at your house since he didn’t want you to walk alone so late at night.

you barely managed to tuck yourself into bed and put on pajamas before you passed out cold from the day you had had, as you got ready to slip into your cool bedsheets you replayed the night you had had over and over in your head, not wanting it to end.

you were sure, at koushi’s house, he was doing the same.

in the weeks that followed after that, he had asked you to be his girlfriend and you had gladly accepted, the looks on the faces of his teammates, specifically your cousin’s, was all the reason you needed despite there being so, so much more.

what started as a basket of sweets for your cousin and a painfully awkward interaction turned into the best thing that had happened to you in your entire life, your sweet boyfriend that never ceased to astound you. 

sugawara koushi got what he had wanted most, and you got what you ended up needing the most.

each other.

[pies-writes-and-more]

Dinner and a Show

Word Count: 6, 638

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: a cheating son of a bitch, a very real realization that fancy restaurants charge so much for food, Bucky stealing the show of this fic, and Steve being an impulsive dumb shit lol

A/N: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANY SITES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! (Reblogs are totally okay!) I know I’ve been MIA, so sorry! This is for @anika-ann​‘s 500 followers celebration challenge! Congratulations darling, you totally deserve it and more! Anyways, I hope you guys like this fic, I had a blast writing it! 

PROMPT: “This is one of those moments when I tell you something isn’t a good idea and you ignore me, isn’t it?”

(Not my gif, creds to the original creator!)

It wasn’t like Y/N hadn’t gone on dates before. Sure, it had been a while since the last guy (…Braydon? Brandon?… Steve’s forehead was riddled with wrinkles as he tried to remember the loser’s name), but Y/N had gone on dates before and Steve had been totally fine with those guys. He hadn’t spent any time sulking around on the couch and complaining about couples or romance, nothing like that. (Even if Bucky had insisted that he had). He was perfectly fine with Y/N dating, why wouldn’t he be?? Besides, it wasn’t about Y/N going on a date, it was about who she was going on a date with. There was something about this guy in particular that Steve was just not okay with. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself (and Bucky) for the last few hours.

“You need to get over it, punk,” Bucky shrugged away Steve’s tense shoulders and furrowed brow, too busy fiddling with his long brown locks to note the annoyed twitch that Steve’s face gave in response. Bucky fingers pulled on the section of hair he’d been working on for the last few minutes, tugging it away from his head enough so he could examine it properly in the mirror, only to realize that he hated it and quickly ran his fingers through a very messy looking braid. “Stupid fucking Sam. Why did he have to volunteer the only evening that I’ve actually needed him?,” the winter soldier grumbled, mumbling out some more choice words before letting out a breath and trying to separate the section of hair into threes once again.

On any normal day, Steve probably would’ve found it oddly amusing how Bucky wanted to learn how to braid his hair. He could’ve sworn that the Barnes sister used to have braids in her hair often and wondered why Bucky hadn’t ever learned from her, though he wasn’t going to mention it to such a frustrated Bucky. Besides, this wasn’t a normal day and Steve had his own worries to pace around about.

“Just ask Nat to do it,” Steve suggested, and even whilst rolling his eyes, he could see Bucky huffing and puffing stubbornly.

“I did and then she told me, ‘James Barnes, if little girls the age of 4 can braid their hair using youtube videos, so can you’. But she didn’t tell which youtube video to look at! There’s so many! And none of the ones I do turn out like that time that Sam did it,” Bucky growled, scowling into the mirror he was sitting in front of. His hands were starting to grow tired of holding up his hair, and his fingers weren’t exactly trained to do these small plaits.

The corner of Steve’s lips turned up at the memory of Sam insisting that he would look damn nice in braid. He even pointed out that a bun might stay better in his hair with a braid laced in. “You look softer this way too,” Sam had pointed out with a smile, swatting at Bucky’s hands when he had tried to stop him from touching his hair. “Stop being a baby and let me show you.” He hadn’t been wrong. Bucky’s hair looked nice in both a braid behind his back and with a bun encircled by a braid.

“How do you know how to braid hair, Bird Brain?” Bucky had pouted, but sat still with his hands in his lap.

“This guy at the VA once brought his daughter because he was going through a rough time but it was his weekend to see her. I told him that I’d look after her while he went to his meeting so we sat and talked about the life of a 3rd grader. She gave me one of her dolls and showed me how to braid their hair. And honestly? She did them much nicer than I could dream of, but it’ll do,” Sam’s fingers had worked effortlessly even through Bucky’s slightly tangled hair.

Now here was poor Bucky on his own, trying to figure out how Sam did it. His fingers got all twisted in the locks and his mind played tricks on him when it came to which strand crossed over next. “I’m doomed,” he whined, finally giving up and throwing himself backward onto the floor.

“Buck?” Steve blinked, watching his rather dramatic friend close his eyes as his head thudded gently against the floor. His dark hair sprawled out around him as if he had just given up on living, and not just given up on how to properly do his hair.

“Hm?”

“Could we get back to my crisis?”

“What crisis?” One of Bucky’s eyes opened and noted Steve’s desperate expression before grinning. “Oh you mean how you’re impossibly in love with Y/N and only ever realize it when she’s going on a date, but you’ve never had the guts to tell her so you just sit and mope in your room while she’s getting ready? That crisis?”

There was a moment of silence in the room where Steve’s eyes glared a hole into Bucky’s rather amused looking grin.

“I hate you,” Steve huffed, going back to his pacing around his room. If there wasn’t such hard ground underneath the wood of his room, there would’ve definitely been a racetrack imprinted underneath him from how often he had traced his own steps round his room. “I’m not in love with Y/N, don’t be crazy. I just don’t understand why she agrees to go out with such… idiots. Like that guy? The one who was some lawyer? Roger? Rupert?”

“Richard,” Bucky interrupted, sitting back up to watch his best friend spiral. Steve spiralling about Y/N was both pathetically sad and entertainingly interesting to watch, he had learned.

“Him! With his stupid smile and cocky attitude. Like wow look at me. I’m a lawyer.” There was a snide undertone to Steve’s words, one he couldn’t really say he had ever heard coming out from his lips before. But he pressed onward with a tight frown, his mind outrightly confused about Y/N’s dating life.

“I thought Richard was actually kinda nice. I mean, he was a lawyer, but the only time he ever brought it up was when people asked what he did for a living,” Bucky shrugged, brushing his hair from his face before deciding to throw the strands into a half assed bun to flop against his neck. “What’s wrong with this guy again? The new guy?”

Steve scowled at the mere thought of

Kyle.

Steve wondered if he could strain his eyes from rolling so hard the 5 minutes that he had met Kyle. There was this air of privilege that just seeped off of him but Steve couldn’t point out exactly why it seemed that way. No one else had been around when he had dropped by with an insane amount of roses in his hand, proclaiming his utmost interest in Y/N.

“There’s just something about you, Y/N, babe. You aren’t like any other girl I’ve ever met,” Kyle’s words came off so smooth, so eloquent, and Steve felt himself actually gag a little. But Y/N, with her arms carrying the roses like a newborn babe, eyes shooting around the room like she did when she was embarrassed, didn’t seem to note that this guy was just too smooth. She seemed… to like it?

“So what? The girl likes to be complimented and swooned,” Bucky pointed out as Steve explained all this to him. “Why shouldn’t she? She’s an attractive girl and she doesn’t nearly get as much appreciation as she should.”

“I know she’s attractive,” Steve snapped, feet finally stopped in their pacing, arms folding across his chest. “It’s just the way he admires her. Like she’s a piece of meat on a hook.”

Bucky nodded slowly, somewhat understanding why Steve would be worried. Normally, he would be right behind Steve’s first impression of people since he had a gut feeling about crazy weirdos. But whenever it came to Y/N, Steve let the green-eyed monster step in for him. “So you’ve told her right? That you’re worried?”

Steve blinked at him in confusion, his frown tightening on his tense expression, “Why would I tell her?”

“Because if you’re worried about her for genuine reasons, she’d believe you. Any normal friend would,” Bucky explained, the smile on his lips turning into a smirk. “That is, unless, you also don’t like him for another reason. Maybe you don’t want her going on a date with someone… that isn’t… you?” Bucky teased and Steve rolled his eyes in response but his childhood best friend just laughed it off. “Come on, you two are practically made for each other. You’ve never had this hard time of admitting that you liked a gal before, so why Y/N? Why are you so afraid to admit your feelings for her?”

Steve hesitated for a moment, hoping he didn’t actually have to answer that question. Lucky for him, he didn’t. A knock came at the door and Steve gladly took it as an opportunity to dodge the situation.

“Hey! Do you mind if I use your mirror? You’ve got better lighting in here,” Y/N beamed, dressed head to toe in her finest outfit. The two boys shared a look before Steve nodded and moved out of the way for her to enter the room, Bucky scooting on the floor slightly so he could sit next to her on the floor in front of the mirror. “Thanks! You’re a lifesaver, Steve! I just don’t want to get there and realize that I put too much highlighter on because my lighting in my room is so different,” she explained, setting down her makeup on the floor next to her and patting down the products onto her skin as she examined her reflection.

Bucky looked over at Steve and jutted his chin out in her direction, eyes widening in their madness to try to get Steve to say something.

“Uh, excited for your date?” Steve asked, and Bucky noted the lack of enthusiasm in his tone. Y/N shot him a smile from the mirror and nodded eagerly.

“I told him I’d be okay with like tacos or something, cause I’ve been craving tacos lately, but he insisted he wanted our first real date to be a fancy restaurant downtown! He told me he wouldn’t tell me which one, just to dress nice and look my best.”

Steve’s lips parted to interject that she always looked her best, but held his tongue noting how excited she was. He could almost feel how his stomach dropped a little, how his insides were twisting in discomfort at just how happy she looked. She deserved to be happy, he reminded himself.

“So he’s picking you up then?” Bucky smiled, leaning against the nearby dresser as he watched her pat some powder into her under eye area.

Y/N shook her head and gave a sort of half smile, “I know, that’s what I thought too. Cause how am I supposed to get there if I have no clue where I’m going,” she laughed, and Steve noticed just how nervous it sounded. “But he’s sending a cab for me! Already arranged it to pick me up in a half hour and everything. He said he wanted to come get me but he had an evening meeting he couldn’t pry himself away from.”

A little whisper in Steve’s ear made him wonder was it really an evening meeting? Or did this guy just not want to drive all the way out of the city to pick Y/N up from the complex and bring her to dinner? If he didn’t want that, why wouldn’t he just pick something closer to the two of them? Steve’s jawline tensed as he thought about what he’d give to intimidate the shit out of this Kyle dude but quickly relaxed as Y/N’s eyes caught his.

“You alright, Steve? You look all strung up. Something going on?” Y/N turned away from the mirror to look at him and Steve had to catch his jaw from falling to the ground. He had watched her apply her makeup numerous times, tonight wasn’t anything different or anything, and she was wearing a dress that Steve had seen her in multiple times… but…. Steve felt his insides lurch a little, almost begging to be the person she was dining with, looking like the most gorgeous being in any existing universe.

“Yeah, Steve, why don’t you tell Y/N what’s bugging you,” Bucky egged on, his eyes clearly trying to send a signal to his slightly stupid and oblivious best friend. Y/N was busy facing Steve, watching his eyes and facial expressions so she didn’t see Bucky very aggressively mouthing out, “TELL. HER. HOW. YOU. FEEL!”

Steve’s lips twitched a little, chewing on the inside of his lip nervously, “It’s nothing, really-” he started, glaring at Bucky for even bringing it up.

“I think Y/N deserves to know how you feel. You know. About this date,” Bucky continued and Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she moved her gaze between them.

“My date? Is there something wrong?” Y/N asked, tilting her head slightly as she looked up at Steve with those gorgeous eyes of hers. Look at her, Steve thought to himself, she got all dressed up for this punk and he might not give two shits about her.

“Just… don’t want you to get hurt, doll,” Steve finally managed to get out and Bucky’s head tilted back in exasperation, while Y/N gave Steve a smile.

“You always look out for me, Steve, but I promise I can do this on my own. Besides, I kick alien ass along the rest of you. A mere civilian date can’t go too wrong,” Y/N pointed out with a twinkle in her eye. Steve simply nodded to her, trying to force a smile that said really no I’m happy for you.

He cleared his throat a little, quickly shifting the conversation to Bucky’s lack of braiding skills. Y/N laughed at the thought of Bucky Barnes trying to braid his own hair but her fingers moved quickly to pull his hair into a nice bun with a braid looping around it, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek afterwards.

“It’s perfect, Y/N, thank you!” Bucky grinned, smiling ever so innocently at Steve as if to rub it in his friend’s face that he got a kiss on his cheek. Steve wanted to roll his eyes again but Y/N stood up and he held an arm out to steady her as she slipped on her heels.

“Alright! I’m going to wait near the front for FRIDAY to let me know the taxi is here! Wish me luck, boys!” Y/N’s voice was so light and airy, something that Steve rarely heard when they were busy shooting down bad guys or tackling mission prep. He couldn’t help but just wish she would be that excited about seeing him too.

Bucky watched his best friend for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the look of puppy dog love on Steve’s face, “You do realize that she would be that excited and more to got out with you, right?” Bucky informed him, as if he was able to read his mind.

Steve blinked in surprise, glancing over at him, “How would I ever know that for sure?”

“Simple. Ask the girl out.”

It hadn’t been more than half an hour before Steve burst into Bucky’s room, where he had been skimming through some memes the Peter boy had sent him via the Insta-gram.

“Hey Steve, did you know there’s this new app called TikTok-” Bucky started, not at all phased by the bursting of his friend into his room.

“I’ve got a plan!”

There was a twinkle in his eyes, a sort of mischievous glint that told Bucky he wasn’t going to like this plan at all. “What is it?” He asked, almost regretting it as soon as he did.

“We have to protect her, Bucky, she’s too good for most men of this world. I can’t let this Kyle dude take her out when he’s not nearly good enough. So, we have to go there and make sure he doesn’t hurt her!”

“Mhm. Yeah. Except, we have no clue where she is. She didn’t even know, remember?” Bucky shrugged, hoping that this plan of Steve’s would crumble and he would end up sitting in his room sulking until he got the balls to go tell Y/N how he felt.

“FRIDAY can track her phone!” Steve proudly proclaimed and Bucky wondered if it took him all of the past 30 minutes to come up with this ingenious plan. “I’ll just get FRIDAY to track her phone, we’ll go and set up a reservation, try and get seated near them, and just wear disguises and make sure that he doesn’t try anything!”

Bucky blinked slowly, fingers rubbing his temple as he noticed just how rash and insane his best friend still was, as if they were still kids in the olden days, “You do realize how creepy that is right? You want to track her phone for her location, sit near her and just… watch her? I- You can see how that is creepy right?”

He didn’t.

“Hold up, and what do you mean we?” Bucky asked with a groan, knowing full well he wasn’t going to like the answer.

But Steve was already going through Bucky’s closet to find the most inconspicuous looking clothes that were still fancy enough for a fancy restaurant, too busy throwing clothes at Bucky’s bed to answer.

“This is one of those moments when I tell you something isn’t a good idea and you ignore me, isn’t it?” Bucky whined a little, throwing his head back onto his bed and closing his eyes, wondering how his best friend managed to lose all sense of rationale when it came to Y/N.

And that is how, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, dressed in suits matched with baseball hats and sunglasses (“this isn’t how you blend in, Steve, especially at some fancy restaurant,” Bucky had tried to warn him) ended up in line at  

L’ailment,

trying to pretend like they weren’t sticking out of the crowd like a sore thumb.

“Sir, I’m sorry, without a reservation, it’s almost impossible to be seated-” the front of house insisted but Steve pulled off his sunglasses, glancing around nervously.

“Any chance you could make an exception for two superheroes who are good friends with Tony Stark?” Steve begged, practically on his knees pleading to get in.

Turns out, she could.

The lady had another server lead them into the dining area, and Steve quickly asked if they could be seated in a booth that just so happened to be near a gorgeous black dress-wearing girl who was giggling as she sipped the liquid from a wine glass.

“-you have the most gorgeous laugh I have ever heard,” Kyle was saying and Steve had to keep himself from choking on his gag reflex. Y/N laughed some more, and there was a glow to her skin that Steve found himself wishing he had caused instead of… Kyle.

“Sir?” The waiter was tapping Steve’s shoulder and Bucky chuckled a bit, noting that Steve had just been standing there, staring at Y/N and Kyle longer than would be comfortable.

“Sorry, thank you,” Steve blushed, slipping onto his seat and kicking at Bucky’s leg as he continued to laugh at him.

“So much for not being obvious,” Bucky whispered to him, throwing his hat and sunglasses away, much to Steve’s annoyance. But before he could convince his best friend that these disguises were highly necessary on their mission, Bucky had become too concerned with how much the restaurant was charging for food, “How much???? For pasta???”

“Bucky!” Steve hissed with a glare, “Shut up, I’m trying to listen!”

“-looking for just someone to be my best friend,” Kyle was saying, swirling his wine around in its glass. “Here I was thinking that I didn’t want anything serious and then you walk into my life… and I can tell that if I don’t do this right, I’d be missing out on something amazing.”

Y/N’s giggle told Steve everything. That crazy line worked, Steve couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t she tell he was lying? Steve’s hands curled into fists against his thighs, tensing at just how fake the guy sounded to him.

“I mean, he seems pretty genuine. Sure it’s a bit cheesy, but he didn’t actively change the subject or anything and it’s not like he’s avoiding being seen in public with her,” Bucky pointed out much to Steve’s discontent. He waved him off, straining his hearing to hear the rest of the conversation over other people at nearby tables.

“Come on, you can’t tell me that you’re surrounded by good looking dudes who are superheroes all day and you haven’t gone to bed with any of them!” Kyle was laughing and Y/N joined in, but Steve watched as she shifted somewhat uncomfortably at what he was insinuating.

“They’re the closest things I have to family, sometimes I’ve thought about dating members of the team-” Y/N admitted and Steve’s heart fluttered a bit, wondering if she was talking about him… before it fell at the realization it could be someone else. “-don’t think they could be all that interested in me anyways. But enough about me, tell me more about what you do at your job, how was your meeting earlier?”

“Ah you know, late evening meetings, same old, same old,” Kyle smiled, brushing off the topic quickly and glancing at his phone that happened to be on the table. “Give me a second, won’t you, darling? It’s the office. If I don’t get it now, they’ll just keep calling.”

Y/N smiled at him and nodded, waving him off, “I get it. Work is busy, go ahead.” Kyle grinned in response and took off to the back, Y/N sipping on her wine some more as she was left alone at the table.

“Who the hell leaves a pretty girl at the dinner table by themselves to take a work call?” Steve grumbled with a huff, shifting in his seat.

“You would,” Bucky pointed out with a shrug, glancing at the drink menu. “If the Avengers called, you’re telling me you would finish dinner?”

“That’s different, Buck, we’re talking a violent threat versus some office call,” Steve rolled his eyes, glancing at the direction that Kyle had taken off at. “I’m going to the bathroom, hold on.”

He excused himself, Bucky eagerly whispering in his trail, “What do you want if the waiter comes?” He didn’t answer, leaving Bucky to grumble that he just wouldn’t order him anything. But food wasn’t exactly on Steve’s mind right now anyways.

Steve maneuvered himself around Y/N’s table, quickly hiding himself behind a few waiters and other guests so she wouldn’t recognize him, before swiftly walking to the back of the restaurant. He glanced around near the bathrooms, raising an eyebrow as he caught Kyle’s stature near one of the corners.

Half pretending to be looking at the art displayed on the wall and half pretending to be listening to something on the phone he put up to his ear, Steve managed to duck his face away from Kyle who seemed to be chuckling over something the person on the other end of his call said.

“-I know sweetie, I wish I could be home with you right now but I’ve got this meeting… I know I’m tired of last minute meetings too but I promise it’ll be worth it when I get this promotion,” Kyle was saying and Steve could feel something burning inside of him. “Love you too, dearest. Best wife ever, hm?” And with that, Kyle made a kissing sound to the phone and hung up, straightening out his jacket and smoothing out his hair.

Steve wasn’t sure what came over him but he couldn’t deny he saw red. Here this guy was, at dinner with one of the nicest, most honest, amazing human beings that Steve had ever met in his years of living, and this bonehead had a wife at home? Before he could think through the situation, Steve’s arm shot out, grabbing Kyle as he walked by and slamming him hard into the wall.

“What the fuck, man?” Kyle screeched, eyes widening when he realized who was under the baseball hat. “The hell? She brought her superhero boyfriend around?” He scoffed, wincing a little as Steve tightened his grip. “Damn she must be real good in bed for a guy like you to be all riled up about her,” Kyle chuckled, as if his joking manner would ease the tense situation.

But Steve’s eyes just got darker, “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that right?” Steve wished to god his glare could burn a hole into Kyle, his face going red with the boiling rage running through his body. “She got all excited for this date. She’s been talking about you non-stop and you’re going around two timing on her?”

The sound of Kyle’s body against the wall must’ve surprised some of the restaurant’s patrons, whispers growing louder around them. Steve didn’t need to look around for his peripheral to catch the workers coming closer.

“Sir, please, you’re causing a scene. I must ask that you bring this outside of our establishment,” someone was saying but Steve stood exactly where he was, firm in his anger.

“What’s going on here? Is everything okay?” This was the only voice that made Steve jump back slightly, his eyes immediately catching breathtaking ones that he had always admired. “Steve?” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked between the two of them, trying to decipher the situation. “Wh-What’re you… why the hell are you here?”

“Your coworker’s got some crazy anger issues here,” Kyle huffed, pulling himself together and brushing his shoulders off. “Grabbed me for no goddamn reason.”

Steve shot him a glare and almost prided himself on the fact that the boy in front of him winced a little, “No reason huh? You want to tell her who I heard you talking to?”

There was a flutter of fear and guilt in Kyle’s eyes, even though his chest puffed out in arrogance, “I have no clue what you’re talking about, I was talking to my work-”

“Bull shit.” Steve took a step closer to him and Kyle immediately took one back, his back hitting the wall again. Their gazes went unwavered, Steve challenging him to say one more lie.

“Steve, stop this,” Y/N insisted, pulling on his arm slightly. “The hell are you doing? What are you even doing here?”

But Steve ignored her questions, eyes still steady on Kyle, “Tell her. Or I will.” There was a pause and Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. Kyle couldn’t even man himself up to admit what was going on. “Fine. Your date here just got off the phone with a girl who’s waiting for him to come back home. His wife. He told her you were just a business meeting.” Steve turned to look at Y/N, who just looked hurt and confused. She pulled her hands away from the grip they had on Steve and he could see her swallowing down the embarrassment as people shuffled awkwardly to see what the outcome of the situation would be.

Steve felt a quick moment of pride, his ego boosting a little as he confirmed his own suspicions that this was the reason why he had had an issue with Y/N going out on a date tonight. Here this guy was, sleazy and clearly not a good enough guy for Y/N, and Steve had been absolutely right. But almost immediately after the small burst of celebration, Steve felt his heart sink slightly at the look in Y/N’s eyes.

Although her posture was still stiff, her jaw clenched as she looked at Kyle, as if waiting for him to explain that it was all a misunderstanding. That the woman at home was actually his mom or some relative and Steve had just heard the whole phone call wrong. But Kyle just puffed his chest out some more, acting as if nothing had happened. As if he had done nothing wrong. Her gaze then turned to Steve, confusion filling her eyes as she tried to understand why he was even here. Why had he followed her to this date? And for that matter, how had he followed her?

Embarrassment filled Y/N’s whole body and she could feel her nails digging into her palms as she tightened her hands into fists. “Fuck you, Kyle,” was all she said after a moment, turning around and walking quickly out of the restaurant. People gave her empathetic glances as she rushed away but her pace quickened all the more any time she caught their eyes.

“Y/N!” Steve called out to her, his shoulders slinking down slightly as he watched her disappear. People’s murmurs were growing, whispers and assumptions flying to his ears and making him feel smaller than how he was pre-serum. He even caught a few people trying to film the whole situation. A small piece of guilt started to grow in his stomach as he realized how much embarrassment he had just caused. He could’ve handled the whole situation better, he knew that in hindsight.

“How’d that go for you, punk?” Bucky asked slowly as Steve rushed past their table, hoping to following Y/N outside this now claustrophobic-feeling restaurant. Bucky got up from the table, whisking himself away to Steve’s side as the man frantically tried to chase after the girl,“I gotta say, I love a night filled with dinner and a show, but that was terrible entertainment.”

It was at this moment that Steve had not only wished that he hadn’t come in the first place, but he especially wished he hadn’t brought Bucky around. As soon as they had burst through the doors, Steve wasn’t sure if he was relieved or even more panicked to find Y/N standing there, tears falling from her face.

“Get the hell away from me, Rogers,” she warned with a shaky voice, her eyes shooting him a glare as she desperately tried to wipe her face.

“Y/N, please, let me explain,” Steve begged, walking towards her and reaching out to her but she flinched away, a stern look on her face even with sobs shakily leaving her lips.

“You ruined everything, Steve, why couldn’t you just leave me alone? You followed me to a fucking restaurant! I didn’t even know where I was going so how did you-” she paused as she thought about it and Steve’s eyes moved to the ground in shame. The anger built up in her quickly than he expected, her foot stomping on the ground in frustration, “You had FRIDAY track my fucking phone? God, Steve Rogers, you piece of shit, I can’t believe you!”

Steve opened his lips to insist that it was for a good reason but gave up, knowing there really wasn’t a good enough reason to explain, “I-I’m sorry, doll, I know I was an idiot. But I couldn’t let him take advantage of you! I knew there was something wrong with him!”

“Then why the hell didn’t you tell me beforehand? Did you just magically have this realization while I was already on my way here? Why didn’t you say something?” She demanded, arms crossed in front of her.

“I-I-” Steve stammered out, his mind suddenly drawing a blank of all those excuses that seemed like such good reasons earlier. “I’m sorry,” was all he could manage out.

Y/N huffed exasperatedly, shaking her head and pacing around on the sidewalk, ignoring all the glances of people passing nearby, “I cannot believe you, Steve. And then to top it all off, when you found out, you didn’t even just tell me privately. Ha! No, you had to show it off, dangle your new found knowledge in my face in front of everyone as if my dating life is any of their business! You had to go shove him into a wall like some macho alpha asshole!”

Steve’s shoulders shrunk as she yelled at him, knowing he deserved it with the way he ignored Bucky’s warnings (and his own conscience, for that matter), “I-… I know I fucked up, doll, and I’m sorry, and I’ll keep apologizing for however long you want. I just couldn’t let you go out with that asshole. You deserve so much better than all these guys you bring around, don’t you know that? You should be with a man who’s so much more than the others. Someone who wouldn’t treat you like a business dinner,” Steve told her, as if pleading for her to see that she was so many leagues better than the rest of the world.

Y/N hesitated, tears still sliding down her cheeks and ruining that perfect makeup she had put on only hours earlier. Her eyes watched him as he pleaded, eyebrows tensing as if in confusion, “Someone like you?” She asked quietly, almost in a mocking tone. Her words felt so harsh in the heat of the moment but she couldn’t take them back once they were gone.

But the scoff that she expected never came. The we’re just friends, Y/N never left his lips. The look in his eyes wasn’t a look of but you’re just like a little sister to me. There was a pause and even Bucky, who was standing a few feet away, was holding his breath as the two of them stood there.

“I-I dunno,” Steve grumbled out nervously, eyes quickly dropping from Y/N’s gaze, which was quickly becoming a look of confusion. Steve fidgeted under such a tense situation, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought about all those times he had just wanted to be around her. Just wanted to listen to her talk about that hobby of hers that she thought no one cared about. How he longed to lay next to her and just play with her hair, watch as she slowly dazed away. Steve could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he thought about her, thought about all the feelings he had pushed down so eagerly from the moment they met. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. I said someone better,” he pointed out shyly.

He wanted her to agree. He wanted her to scoff and laugh bitterly. He wanted that anger that was in her voice so long ago to drown him in his guilt, he wanted her to throw him away so he could confirm the fear that kept his feelings at bay for so long. She couldn’t ever want him, he was being foolish. Look at the guys she brought home, they were normal. Deliciously normal with 8 to 5 jobs and a retirement plan, and here he was. The only reason he was even able to breathe properly without wheezing is because of some serum running through his body. He wasn’t normal, he couldn’t give her normal.

There was a furrow in Y/N’s brow as she tried to piece together Steve’s behaviour and his half-confession. Her eyes moved to Bucky, who was watching with half a smile on his face. The two of them shared a silent conversation, her questions answered by a single nod of his head.

“Steve, did you come out here and follow me because…because you were jealous?” Y/N asked him, still confused. There was a little light humour to her voice because of course Steve was not jealous. Steve is Captain Fucking America. Why would the literal god of all things perfect be jealous of anything coming near her? No, it had to be that he wanted to protect her. It had to be that they were just friends because if they weren’t just friends, then everything that Nat, Wanda, Pepper, and even Tony had said was correct. That would mean that maybe Steve did brighten a little whenever she walked into a room, maybe he did start wearing that blue shirt more often because she had commented how much she liked it, maybe he had bought that way-too-expensive cologne because she enjoyed the scent… maybe all those longing glances across the room, the lingering touches of their hands… maybe it hadn’t all been in her head.

Steve felt his heart start crawling up his throat, clutching at the dryness and making him regret he hadn’t at least drank some water earlier. There was a part of him that wanted to deny it, to throw his heart away as far as he could and insist that no good could come from this. But the look on her face, what was that in her eyes- was that hope? Steve cleared his throat slightly, shifting his weight on his feet as he sheepishly looked up at her, “Would that be bad?” He asked her softly. “Me… Me being jealous, would that be a terrible thing?”

Y/N’s lips turned into a small smile, a gentleness touching her tearful eyes, “No, I don’t think it’d be terrible. Actually, it might be… a good thing.”

Steve’s posture straightened as she spoke, the lines smoothing on his forehead while his heart still beat aggressively into his chest, “R-Really?”

“But this doesn’t excuse your poor behaviour, Steven,” Y/N scolded him again quickly, wagging her finger in his face. “Feelings for me or not, you should’ve told me! You shouldn’t have followed me to the restaurant or embarrassed me publicly!” Steve’s head ducked again as he nodded along, knowing she was right and he really did fuck up a lot tonight. “But,” she smiled a bit, her heart fluttering a little at the mere thought that Steve fucking Rogers was jealous over her dating, “maybe if you keep apologizing and work on that irrational behaviour of yours, we can consider making sure this never happens again.”

Steve nodded quickly, smiling at her innocently, “I promise I won’t ever be this kind of idiot again. I can’t promise I won’t be another kind of idiot, but I promise I won’t have FRIDAY track your phone and follow you on another date every again.”

Y/N laughed at how puppy dog he seemed, eagerly begging for love so quickly after being scolded, “I mean, it would be pretty awkward if you didn’t come to my next few dates.”

Steve blinked at her in confusion, trying to follow her thought process, “S-Sorry?”

“Well if you’re going to take me out, you can’t just not come along,” Y/N pointed out with a small stifled giggle, Steve’s eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Thank fuck, that took so long,” Bucky yelped out from behind them, lazily wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulders and rubbing his knuckles into the blond’s head, who just groaned and tried to shove him off. “Honestly, next time at least feed me if you’re going to take this long. Can we go home now? I’m seriously hungry for some pasta that’s not going to cost me a second mortgage.”

“Do you even have a first mortgage?” Steve asked with confusion and Bucky swatted at his head quickly, insisting that that wasn’t the point.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two, biting down on her lip as Steve met her eyes and smiled that same heart-melting smile. After climbing into a cab that she had waved down, Bucky told the story of tonight’s events from his own perspective (exaggerating details, Y/N was sure of it). She knew one day she would laugh at how impulsive Steve’s thinking was, but for right now, she was just happy with the fact that he had taken her hand in his as they drove home.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** 

Hi hello, just a quick other author’s note to big a huge thank you to @wxstedhexrt​ (aka the love of my life). Thank you for always reading my fics and being excited about my writing, thank you for helping me when I’m stumped and for giving me the title of this fic. Thank you for being fucking amazing and the best human ever <3 I really don’t know if I would’ve put this out without you so thank you so much <3

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