#like sorry king but it’s absolutely not happening today i’m barely going to make it through my scheduled shift as is

[steviescrystals]

somebody has to be playing a prank on me today like this is not real!

[skymaiden32]

Mariana Trench

Fandom: Stingray

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to be alerted when I update or write new stories)

>:3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2: Tragedy of Lemoy | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

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The Island of Lemoy had a reputation of being dingy, damp and cold. Today was no different. Rain buffeted against the windows of the submarine as it lead the other WASP and World Navy vessels that were ready in case anything happened. This was supposed to be a day of peace, but although everyone hoped Titan wouldn’t try anything, they were also realists. They wanted some way to fight back, if need be. 

Phones shot his friend in the seat next to him a worried look. Troy looked awful. He hadn’t slept a wink last night, and had spent practically the entire morning before setting off trying to change Commander Shore’s mind. He came close a few times, but Shore was as stubborn as they came. So here they were… 

Troy sighed in resignation as they made their final approach onto the island’s shores, where a group of Aquaphibians stood shoulder to shoulder. President Younger and Commander Shore were already on their way out of the sub when Phones grabbed a fistful of his best friend’s uniform, causing the Captain to look back. “You sure you don’t want me there with you?”

Despite the tiredness and anxiety that Troy radiated, he offered Phones a small smile. “Don’t you worry about me. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Phones.” Troy warned. “Don’t make me order you to stay behind. If anything happens, I want you to grab the President and Commander, and get yourselves out.” Phones gave him a pleading look. “Promise?”

The Lieutenant hesitated, but ultimately nodded. “Promise… What about you, though? Should we wait for you?”

“Absolutely not.” Troy shook his head. “One way or another, Titan’s campaign against the land will end today…” His gaze darkened, and Phones’ eyes fell on Troy’s left boot, where he always kept a small pistol just in case. Commander Shore had ordered all weapons be left behind. This was the first time Phones could recall Troy outright disobeying a direct order from their commanding officer, and he shuddered inwardly, outwardly keeping a straight face. “I’ll catch up…”

“And… What if you don’t, Troy?” Phones didn’t want to think about what would happen in that scenario…

“Then…” It was clear that Troy didn’t want to either. “Then you follow the protocol. Tell the others that I’m sorry. Tell Atlanta I love her, and give her the biggest hug for me. And…” Phones was surprised when Troy pulled him into a hug. He returned the embrace tentatively. “Make sure you kick Titan into the Sun.”

Phones chuckled. “You betcha, skipper…”

“Tempest! Sheridan!” Shore’s voice echoed through the submarine. “Quit your yapping! It’s time to go!”

The two friends separated and headed out of the cockpit, where the Commander was waiting for them. Phones watched as they left the safety of Stingray from the deck, barely hiding a grimace when the wall of Aquaphibians slid aside, revealing their ruler. Titan stepped forward, and Phones sighed as he listened to the somewhat awkward exchange between the King and the Captain.

“President Younger, Commander Shore, Captain Tempest.” Titan nodded cordially enough to each of them, but his eyes were narrowed. Troy was certain he was planning something.

“King Titan…” Troy returned the greeting, deadpanning despite the chills he was feeling all over his body.

President Younger cleared his throat. “Shall we?” The three other men nodded, making their way to where they would be signing the treaty. Troy frowned. The further away they got from Stingray, the less confident he felt about this, not that he felt great about it to begin with…

Titan hummed. “King Aphony and Princess Marina aren’t coming?” 

Troy bristled at Titan’s mention of the Pacifican Royal Family, but managed to keep his biting remark to himself when Shore gave him a stern look, instead replying with a neutral tone. “No, they aren’t. Marina has valid reservations, as does Aphony.”

“Oh?” Titan gave him a sly grin, before nodding, seemingly understanding. “I wasn’t expecting them to agree. Their concerns are valid after everything that’s happened between our kingdoms. But I’m sure that one day, they’ll change their minds…”

“I’m sure…” Commander Shore spoke. He seemed to have as many concerns about this as Troy did now, his highly attuned sixth sense picking up on something, but there was no going back anymore…

They finally arrived at the podium where the Treaty would be waiting for them. Troy wasn’t surprised when they realised there was no such paper on the stand. The Captain whipped round to where Titan stood, only to find the tyrant was right in his face. Titan tutted. “Tempest, Tempest, Tempest… You of all people should know better than to believe I would give up…”

Troy scoffed, subtly reaching for the pistol he’d hidden in his boot. “You really think I didn’t know you had a trick up your sleeve?” The pistol was out of the footwear and in his hand in a second, pointed right at Titan’s chest.

Titan raised his eyebrow, unphased. Dozens of Aquaphibian guards surrounded the two enemies, cutting the Commander and the President off from reaching them. “And you didn’t think I’d be able to counter whatever petty resistance you’d try to put up?” The King snapped his fingers, and before Troy could react, his gun was knocked out his hand and he was grabbed and subdued from behind.

“Troy!” Commander Shore’s voice was the last thing he heard before everything went dark.

Titan stepped ahead of the guards to face the Commander. Shore’s face was full of thunder, and could burn through the strongest metal in the world. “Let me give you a word of advice, Commander.” President Younger didn’t miss the way Titan spat out his companion’s title. “Run. Call off your troops.” If at all possible, Shore’s frown deepened. “Because I have plans for Captain Tempest here, and it would be such a shame to change those plans just because you refused to admit defeat…”

Shore growled, but ultimately turned around in defeat, realising the underlying threat to Troy’s life if he didn’t comply, and began to make his way back to Stingray. Younger trailed behind, unable to comprehend what had happened just yet. Before they were out of earshot, however, Shore looked behind at Titan, who stood smugly in front of his troops. Troy’s unconcious body dangled from Agent X20’s shoulder, who was struggling to keep a hold of the Captain. “WASP will strike back, you miserable excuse of a fish! We will get him back! That’s a promise!”

“I’d like to see you try…” Titan smirked. After he was sure the two men had gotten far enough away, he pointed at them, and spoke in a low tone to his men. “After them. Make sure they don’t follow us.” Aquaphibians sped past their King, more than ready to kill the two humans if given the order.

------

Phones had watched on in horror from the relative safety of Stingray’s deck as the Aquaphibians surrounded and knocked out his friend. Now, he was running to meet his Commander and the President, who looked both furious and haunted. Phones grimaced. “We can’t just leave Troy to those… those sharks! We have to get him back! Now!” He skidded to a halt in front of them. Shore gave him a look.

“I know.” He sighed. “But we may not have a choice Lieutenant…”

“Wha-” Phones couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Shore couldn’t be leaving Troy. He just couldn’t! “What do you mean?!”

“Titan said he has plans for Troy.” Shore explained, realising he was on thin ice with Stingray’s Lieutenant. “If we don’t leave now, he said he’d have to,” Shore hesitated, “change those plans…”

“You mean, he’d kill Troy if we pursue?” Phones’ blood froze.

“I’d say that’s a guarantee…” Shore grimaced.

 “So…” The President spoke up. “If we leave, your Captain would at least be alive? Regardless of what Titan has planned?”

The Commander sighed. “That’s what I’m hoping. He hasn’t exactly proven himself honest today…” They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, spinning to see the Aquaphibians gaining on them. “But we don’t have any other choice than to trust Troy won’t be killed…”

The trio raced back to Stingray. Shore frowned when he saw how many WASP operatives were out of their subs, wanting so badly to fight back and help their captured colleague. Shore’s heart broke as he gave the order to retreat, and the submarine fleet headed home in disgrace, everyone feeling hopeless to rescue one of their own…

[ace-of-zaun]

The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time: pt. 3

Silco x f!reader - SFW

CW: threat/injury detail, swears, rude customers, ANGST, trust issues, self-doubt/ruminating, fluff, soft things and feelings?? in my ‘just for fun’ fic??

6.1k words

Summary: After your reluctant departure from The Last Drop, you’re delighted to gain a new regular at your market stall. But you might have bitten off more than you can chew when you find yourself getting inexplicably closer to the Eye of Zaun.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

A/N: oh no. I’m back again. And this fic is getting dafter by the minute. Also, I am sorry to this man for making him such a reader simp. But, it’s true, he would be absolutely crazy about you. Okay, much love to you all, -elsie x

-

The second time you met the King of the Undercity, you were working your job at the market stall. Well, working may have been an overstatement. You were actually seeing how many blueberries you could successfully chuck into your boss’ open mouth, as he snored loudly from the other end of the table.

It had been a slow work day to say the least, and your boss had been asleep for the majority of it, so you didn’t feel bad about terrorising him for your own entertainment. Although, you should feel bad, considering he’d been kind enough to give you your job back after going AWOL for three days straight.

Of course, you didn’t tell him what had really happened to you. No-one was going to believe that you’d been wrongly kidnapped and bound to a chair by two idiotic gang members. I mean, come on, we’ve all used that excuse before, it’s the oldest trick in the book. And only a fool would believe you’d then been carried to safety by none other than the King of Zaun, and been allowed to take shelter in his home whilst he dealt with the threat.

Instead, you’d told your boss that you were sick and miraculously, he’d believed you. Just like that. No questions asked. …You felt like a god.

Whatever medicine Silco’s doctor had given you after you’d passed out in the warehouse had worked a treat because you’d barely felt any pain from it since (except of course from your initial headache after waking up). You wondered if you could get a hold of some of it to keep in your cupboard at home, for when you inevitably stub your toe on the doorframe for the umpteenth time this month.

You’d just thrown another blueberry, that had missed your boss’ mouth but had rather amusingly fallen down into his shirt, no doubt creating a sticky mess against his skin, when you heard someone clear their throat from behind you. As you turn, it takes mere seconds for you to put on your ‘customer service face’ which consisted of the most sickly-sweet smile you could conjure up, paired with a gaze that could only be described as ‘dead-behind-the-eyes’.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” you begin, the phrase you’ve said so many times at this point, you’re certain it’ll be etched onto your gravestone, alongside a drawing of you wearing your work apron and a clown wig.

You almost do a full-on comedy sitcom double take when you see him.

Silco. The Silco. At your market stall. …The heck?

He’s stood on the other side of the table wearing his signature ensemble (that fits him so damn well), his hair is slicked back in its usual style, and his arms are folded behind him. And those sharp, bewitching eyes, that you were much too enticed by to ever be truly afraid of, are looking directly at you. Honestly, the nerve of this man. How dare he look this good on a Wednesday afternoon??

You fight the urge to say: ‘well, if it isn’t Old Silky himself’ and instead gape at him wide-eyed, as if you were one of the fish on the market stall opposite yours.

“Good afternoon, my dear. I’m wondering if you could assist me with a purchase today,” he informs you smoothly, a playful smirk dancing on his scarred lips.

Ah. So this is the game you were playing. Truth be told, you’d missed this. It had been less than a week since you’d left him at The Last Drop, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t spent most of that time trying to figure out a reasonable way back to him. Seems like he’d solved your problem for you.

Your face morphs into a wide grin and you put on the most exaggerated voice you can muster in your new character of ‘employee of the month’.

“Of course, are you looking for anything in particular today, sir?”

You make a point to coyly emphasise the last word of that sentence, as you recall the time he’d specifically told you not to call it him, when you’d awoken at The Last Drop.  

His amused eyes scan across the items and a part of you wonders whether he’s ever set foot in a kitchen before, let alone used one of the utensils laid out neatly in front of him. For the life of you, you can’t picture the man cooking, although you do note with a tiny amount of shame that you would very much like to see him in an apron.

Silco picks up a pizza wheel and meets your gaze, his eyes shining as he awaits your reaction.

“You might struggle to kill someone with that,” you tell him coquettishly, and his smirk widens even more.

“I’ll find a way,” he replies in that low, low drawl that has you taking in a shallow breath.

You bite your tongue once more, as the self-destructive part of you itches to respond with: ‘ooh, now sir, don’t threaten me with a good time’, but you hold it in. Just.

“If it’s a weapon you’re after, might I suggest these measuring spoons?”

“And how, pray tell, could I use those to incapacitate my enemies?”

“Well, they are the perfect size to gouge somebody’s eye out,” you inform him demurely, your lips pouting and head tilting as you hold his gaze.

His chuckle is dark, and quite frankly, delicious. You want him to do it again.

“I’ll take them both.”

“Of course, sir.”

You can’t help but grin as he hands you the money and you carefully place the measuring spoons in his hand, alongside the pizza wheel already in his palm.

“Thank you, have a good day!”

“Oh, I will.”

His lips are still twisted in that sinful smirk, which only makes you certain he can hear the goosebumps beginning to dot the skin on the back of your neck.

With one last sweeping gaze over you, he leaves, and you watch him walk down the street, the pizza wheel and measuring spoons disappearing into his coat pocket as he heads back towards The Last Drop. Everyone else in the market is focusing on how he parts the crowd, like his aura is forcibly pushing away anyone who comes close to him. Of course, ever the odd one out, you’re focusing on the way his hips move as he saunters. That’s right, swish those hips, skinny boy.

Once he’s too far away to see anymore, you feel a strange urge to begin loudly singing about how you’re decidedly not in love, while some marble statues come to life and join in as your backing vocalists.

-

You think it’s going to be a while before you see him again, but you’re overjoyed to be proved wrong when Silco shows up a few days later. Only this time, it’s an extremely busy day at the stall and you’re battling to serve as many customers as possible, all while trying to avoid losing your mind and smacking the nearest person with a frying pan. There must be a kitchen utensil festival happening soon, you reason. It’s the only plausible explanation for it to be this busy.

It's clear that he’s arrived when the bustling crowd suddenly begins to funnel away, until you’re left with just one smug-looking customer stood across the table from you. You cross your arms and sigh deeply, a grin spreading across your face as you do.

“Do you have to be so intimidating? You’re scaring off all my customers.”

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s my whole business model.”

“Hmm, I bet,” you mumble, “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m looking for a present for Jinx,” he tells you, lifting his chin in the air to look down his nose at you.

“I didn’t realise she liked kitchen utensils.”

“She loves them.”

He doesn’t miss a beat in responding to your facetious comment. You snort.

“Does she really?”

“Yes, she uses them to work on her projects.”

“Ah, I see, that makes sense,” you nod amusedly, his own entertained expression trained carefully on yours.

You chat with him for much longer this time, and you can feel your boss’ eyes burning into you in horror, as the conversation turns from the stall’s new merchandise to how Jinx is doing, to how he is, and finally, to how you are. It’s almost scary how easily you can settle into conversation with the crime lord. What’s scarier is, you know you’re going to have to somehow appease your boss when Silco’s gone, since you’re sure no-one else has ever gotten away with being so openly casual and flirtatious with the Eye of Zaun.

You can picture your denial now. The what of Zaun? Never heard of her.

And to your absolute delight, he’s back again the very next day, this time holding two food containers in his long, lithe hands. Fuck, this obsession with his hands is not healthy.

He peers down at you as you perch on the stool behind the counter, and you wonder if this is what ice-cream feels like when its being ogled at under the glass counter of the ice-cream parlour. This time, your boss has left you in charge of the stall as he picks up a new shipment of stock, a task that shouldn’t take all day, but curiously enough always does. So, you’re left to fend for yourself against the man you’re falling for at a concerningly swift rate.

You can’t help but smile at Silco, whose eyes are indescribably soft as they inspect you.

“Is that lunch?”, you gesture to the containers he’s holding.

“It is.”

“What a co-inky-dink, I was just about to have my lunch break! You wanna join?”

“I’d be delighted,” Silco drawls, immediately making his way around the counter.

It’s bizarre to see him move so quickly, (almost as if he’s eager, you muse), but it’s even more bizarre to see him on this side of the stall. You feel heat begin to creep through your body as he gets closer to you and you’re so distracted, you almost miss him holding out one of the food containers towards you.

You stare at it dumbly and he raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Oh. You bought that for me?”

“No, I stole it for you.”

You finally meet his gaze and his smile mirrors your own. You feel like screaming. He bought you lunch?? Is he trying to seduce you? Because, if so, it’s working.

“Thank you,” you tell him sincerely (maybe a little too sincerely), and you’re pretty sure you’ve thrown him for one too, if the slight widening of his pupils is anything to go by.

It takes Silco a moment to recover from your villainous stunt of being grateful, before he begins to look around for somewhere to sit. Unfortunately for him, the only other place available behind the counter is the tiny little stool that is usually reserved for you. 

Right now, you feel extremely privileged to be sitting on the big stool. Granted, you’re still cautious around the abhorrent little things, but you’re less offended by these ones, because it’s much more difficult to be unwillingly tied to them compared to a regular ch**r.

Silco is looking very fixedly at you now as he realises the situation you’re both in. You stare back innocently.

You’re not moving. It’s a matter of principle. You never get to sit on the big stool and you’re not about to give it up just because he’s the leader of the Undercity or whatever.

Your little staring contest comes to an end when he huffs a deep exhale and slowly sinks down onto the tiny stool, his face painfully neutral. 

You feel like you’re in a fever dream. You begin to think you couldn’t possibly see anything more hilarious than the sight before you, until he carefully lifts and places both feet onto the little bars joining the legs of the stool together.

Then, he hunches forward and begins to eat from the container.

…He literally looks like a fucking rat.

An adorable one, mind you, but a rat nonetheless.

And by all means, it would be blatantly criminal not to take this golden opportunity to poke fun, so you do just that.

“How’s the weather down there?”

“Alright that’s enough, get up.”

“Awww,” you whine, as he stands up abruptly and closes the gap between you, until he’s stood inches away from you. The movement is so decisive, and his expression is so commanding, you feel your body automatically obeying his words.

Before you know what’s really happened, you’re suddenly down on the tiny stool and he’s towering above you on the big stool, looking like the cat who just ate the canary. You glare at him menacingly. You really ought to learn how to be unaffected by that trick of his before it’s too late.

It’s not long until you’re back into your rhythm of pleasant chit chat, mixed in with some good old-fashioned joshing. It’s nice. And is beginning to feel entirely too natural. The box in your mind where you’re keeping all your troublesome thoughts about him is starting to overflow, and you worry that once it does, you’ll never get the lid back on it. So, you just add that particular worry to the pile and resolve to deal with it later. …Or never.

Now that Silco has hijacked the superior seat, he’s mostly hidden from the customers’ view, meaning he can eat his lunch in peace while you have to continue to deal with the occasional market-goer. He watches with great interest as you serve the odd customer who appears at the stall during your lunch break.

Silco appears to be awfully impressed when you convince one man to buy an egg slicer, pestle and mortar, a ladle, a garlic press, and a whole set of new chopping boards, when he only came to get a wooden spoon. And the best bit was, he’d openly admitted to not needing a cheese grater since he was lactose intolerant, but still toddled away with it under his arm, alongside the rest of the items you’d lured him into buying.

You were just starting to feel cherished under Silco’s fascinated approval when another customer makes his presence known by repeatedly clicking his fingers at you.

“Oi, do you actually work here or are you just paid to sit there looking ugly?”

Oh. So, he’s that kind of customer. (A prick)

You stand up and turn on the ‘customer service smile’, but your eyes are filled with pure fire, straight from the pits of hell. Luckily, your cheerful tone hides the hatred you feel radiating inside you.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“I need some aftershave.”

He does.

“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t sell aftershave,” you tell him politely, looking down at the items on the table that anyone with a single brain cell could identify as kitchen utensils and not aftershave.

“Why not?”

“We only sell kitchen utensils.”

“That’s stupid.”

You kind of agree. It was a bit stupid. But you weren’t about to tell him that. In your humble view, the customer was never right. It didn’t matter anyway, because he continued his little rant, as if you actually cared about what he thought.

“What a waste of a market stall. Who’s idea was that? Yours? You look stupid enough to think a stall with nothing but kitchen utensils would make any money,” the man insults you and you’re disappointed by his lack of creativity in trying to offend you. I mean, come on, if he was really trying to upset you, he was doing a miserable job.

You’re about to point him in the opposite direction to the one stall you know sells aftershave, when you feel Silco standing up and taking his place directly next to you. His arm brushes against yours and you feel like every neuron in that arm has been fired at once. Looking up at him in surprise, you see his thunderous expression, as he all but snarls at the man.

“Unless you wish to know what it feels like to have every bone in your body broken at once, I suggest you vacate this market immediately.”

It’s with great delight that you observe the rude customer begin to shake as he recognises it’s the Eye of Zaun who is threatening him, and you almost cheer when he runs away from you, stumbling into other shoppers as he makes his hasty escape.

You think you might be in shock. No-one has ever stood up for you like that before. Much less physically threatened them in such a gorgeous display of dominance. Oh no. You’re a goner now.

You must be in a daze as you stare after the man because Silco places a hand on your shoulder, causing the rapidly weakening self-control, that’s keeping you from JUST KISSING HIS GODAMN MOUTH ALREADY, to become a thousand times weaker.

“Are you alright?” he asks, clearly concerned.

No. You’re not alright. You’re far from alright. But telling him that would only ruin all the delicious banter you’ve been enjoying with him over the past week. So, as you finally meet his gaze, you raise a hand over your brow and dramatically pretend to swoon.

“My hero.”

He rolls his eyes and moves to sit back down, an action you follow.

“Seriously though, thank you for sticking up for me,” you tell him genuinely, “Although, I have had customers much worse than him. One time someone threw a sieve at my head because I told them we didn’t offer gift cards for the stall. I mean, come on, who wants a gift card for kitchen utensils?”

“Hmm,” was his response, clearly thinking deeply about something.

After some time, he breaks the comfortable silence with a remark that squeezes your heart in a way that really shouldn’t, considering how unromantic it actually was.

“You’re not ugly. Or stupid.”

“…What?”

“That imbecile called you ugly. You are not.”

“Cheers, you’re not too bad on the eyes either,” you smirk at him, favouring a cheeky response as opposed to a serious one that might have put you in dangerous waters.

He ignores the back-handed compliment.

“Jinx has been asking about you; she misses you.”

“I miss her too,” you tell him honestly. You’d missed him as well, but considering you’d only seen him the day before, that admission was just a bit too embarrassing to be voiced.

“You’re always welcome to visit us at The Drop. When you’re not working, of course.”

“Mondays are my day off.”

“I’ll look forward to your visit this Monday, then,” Silco informs you, a demand, not request, but a light-hearted one all the same.

You nod with a knowing smile. And you’d be damned if the lanky boy didn’t look almost excited at the prospect of you being back in his home once more. What in Janna’s name had you gotten yourself into?

-

Returning to The Last Drop feels, well… right. Jinx is over the moon when you walk through the front doors and rushes to throw her arms around your waist. She wastes no time in pulling you over to the bar, where she has set up her new projects in a row across the counter top, all ready to be shown to you. Only a few minutes pass before Silco appears at the top of the staircase, clipboard and pen in hand as he makes his way down towards you. Your body is radiating with nervous energy at the mere sight of him, so you resort to your tried and true 5 G’s method, reserved for when you feel yourself going off the rails at something ridiculous. Good gods girl, get a grip.

For the next few weeks, your Monday visits becomes a permanent fixture in your schedule, to your unabashed delight. You alternate between playing games and talking with Jinx whilst Silco works, and chatting to Silco when Jinx is sat on his lap, quietly doodling all over the back of his paperwork. The peaceful domesticity is something you never thought you’d be so enthralled by, but you absolutely adore it. It begins to feel like home.

On one particularly memorable visit, Jinx seems to be overflowing with energy, so the only reasonable option is to hold 8 spoons between the gaps of your fingers, and chase her around the bar in a game you’ve now dubbed as ‘Edward Spoonhands’. Silco tries to keep his face neutral, but the slight upward tick of his lips gives him away. It’s not there for long because Jinx soon squeals in delight and recklessly throws herself onto his lap, trying to hide from you as you charge at her full speed across the floor of the bar. She’s so overexcited, it takes Silco a ridiculous amount of time to finally calm her down. Admittedly, you would feel bad about making his day that much more difficult, but you barely have time to, given how out of breath you are from running about for so long.

Another time, you’re just on your way into the bar, pushing the front door open only to immediately trip and fall face-first onto the ground. You’re not physically hurt, but you’re pretty sure your pride is irreparably damaged from the humiliating stunt. Instead of getting up straight away like a normal person would, you roll onto your back and stare crossly at the ceiling, your hand placed atop the other on your stomach. You hope that by acting like an unmoving chameleon, the ground will swallow you up and transport you to a place where nobody can recognise your brainless mug.

As you’re lying there, a recognisable face comes into view above you, a conceited smirk adorning his scarred lips as he peers down at you. Silco keeps his arms behind his back and you note with some offense that he doesn’t offer to help you up and doesn’t even ask if you’re alright. What a bastard.

“Who put that there?” you ask defiantly.

“The doorstep?”

“Yes, I’d like to make a complaint with the owner,” you grumble.

“I’m afraid he’s rather busy at the moment. But do feel free to leave your comment in the suggestion box,” Silco replies smoothly, his arm lifting to point at something across the room.

He has a suggestion box?? Leaning on your hands as you sit up and follow the line of his outstretched arm and finger, you spot exactly what he’s gesturing to. It’s the bin.

You roll your eyes. This bitch.

“You need some more training in customer service skills,” you tell him emphatically.

“You should consider yourself lucky; I’m usually inclined to kill those who complain about my business.”

You have to agree with him. You do consider yourself to be pretty damn lucky.

-

A few weeks later, you find yourself inexplicably excited for your next Monday visit because you’d spent a ridiculous amount of your Sunday evening painstakingly gathering ingredients, baking, and decorating some cupcakes for Jinx and Silco. Despite how tired you were after adding on the extra hours to your already long work day, you resolved that it was worth it, just to see the looks on their faces when you presented your gift.

Entering The Last Drop around lunchtime, you make sure to avoid tripping on the doorstep, since the last thing you wanted was to unceremoniously send the cupcakes sprawling across the floor. You find Silco and Jinx sat at the bar working on their respective projects and you can’t help but greet them cheerfully from across the room.

“Asuh my dudes!” earns you a blank look from them both, which only serves to pull your grin even wider.

Making your way over to the bar, you decide to stand behind it so you’re facing them both. You want to be able to see their reactions when they try the sugary goodness you’ve lovingly crafted for them. The old man might even smile, if you’d done your job right.

“I made you some cupcakes because you both work far too hard and I decided you deserve a treat.”

You hold out the open tin towards them both, offering them first choice like the polite young lady you are. Jinx leans forward and looks nothing short of ecstatic as she reaches to pick one up, but she’s interrupted by Silco, who barks out his command in a way that if you didn’t know any better, you’d think was laced with panic.

“Wait!”

You all freeze. Slowly, your eyes meet his and you see the unmistakeable look of apprehension painting his face. Oh. You understand now. He’s worried the cupcakes might be poisoned.

He doesn’t trust you.

You can’t help the way your stomach feels like its falling through your body, like a rollercoaster that has just dropped from its highest point. Does he really think you’re capable of poisoning them? Or that you’d even dream of hurting them in the first place? After everything you’ve been through?

Keeping your gaze locked onto his, you slowly reach for one of the cupcakes and bring it to your mouth, taking a bite and swallowing purposefully. Silco visibly relaxes at the gesture. But you don’t. Despite the growing nausea swirling through your belly, you finish off the cupcake and shove the wrapper in your pocket.

You want to hurl the tin at the wall, but instead you shakily fumble to put the lid back on, drawing it close to your chest.

“You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to, I just thought-” you begin, your voice trembling as you scrabble to fill the heavy silence.

Silco stands, leans over the counter, and gently prises the tin from your hands. Watching him dumbfoundedly, you observe him taking the lid off once more, lifting out one of the cupcakes, and nibbling the tiniest bit out of it.

“Lovely; do try one, Jinx.”

But it doesn’t make you feel better. How could it? He’d basically just implied that there was a chance you might have been trying to kill them.

Jinx wolfs her cupcake down at an alarming rate and wastes no time in climbing onto the bar and throwing herself at you in a hug, until you’re awkwardly carrying her as she’s wrapped around you from your front. She jumps down and pulls you over to one of the booths across the room, loudly babbling about a new idea she has that she wants your opinion on.

You don’t look at Silco again. You can’t. Not when he’d shown such an open display of distrust like that. You’re glad that Jinx has pulled you away from the situation and you’re even more relieved when it turns out you’re able to sit with your back facing him. It takes all your strength, but you put on a careful mask, making sure Jinx doesn’t realise just how upset you are. Truthfully, you’re glad for the distraction she provides, if only to distance yourself from the confusing mixture of shock and heartache and anger you’re feeling.

Some time later, you inform Jinx that you need the bathroom, and find yourself spending much longer than is really necessary to wash your hands. You want to feel okay again, to act like it never happened, but you just can’t. Honestly, it hurt. How could he think of you like that?

When you exit the bathroom, you’re surprised to find Silco hovering in the corridor, evidently waiting for you, since there was nothing else of note in this particular hallway. His gaze snaps up to your crushed expression, which you quickly replace with one of impassivity, taking a page from the kingpin’s book. 

The closed off look isn’t the only guard you put up, your sarcastic tone matching it nicely, as you reach into a place that you feel much more comfortable with.

“Do you make a habit of hanging around outside the ladies’ bathroom?”

He scoffs, and opens his mouth as if he is about to retort with an equally sarcastic response, when he snaps it shut again and takes a deep breath in and out.  

“It was not my intention to offend you,” he says softly.

You stare at him, trying to read his thoughts.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you finally mumble, not yet feeling emotionally ready for such a serious conversation.

Silco begins to speak again when you hear a crash from the bar. The uncomfortable discussion is forgotten as you both dash towards the noise and find Jinx sat on the floor next to a broken chair.

“I was only trying to build a den!” she protests, as Silco marches over to her to check for any injuries.

Luckily, she isn’t hurt, but that doesn’t stop you from giving the stupid fucking chair a kick like it deserves. Bloody things are more trouble than they’re worth. …Okay, maybe you’re projecting.

Once everyone has calmed down from Jinx’s little mishap, you only stick around for another half hour before the tension becomes entirely too suffocating. You make a pathetic attempt at excusing yourself, muttering something about needing to clean all the kitchen utensils for tomorrow’s work day, before gathering your belongings to leave.

You can’t help but stare at the abandoned tin of cupcakes left on the counter. Part of you wants to snatch them up and take back your gift, if only out of spite for the way he’d made you feel horrible after trying to do something nice for him. But that line of thought is deserted the moment you glance at Silco’s face.

If you were one for dramatics (which you most definitely are), you’d almost say he looks heartbroken, as he gazes at you wistfully. It’s enough to have you mumbling out a short goodbye to them both, before exiting the bar with a heavy feeling sweeping through your chest.  

-

That night, as you’re lying in bed staring blankly at the ceiling, you can’t help but run through the events of the day over and over again, until it makes you want to scream. Part of you doesn’t blame him. In the grand scheme of things, he hadn’t known you for long at all, and in the Undercity, it wasn’t wise to place your full trust in anybody, let alone someone you’d only just met.

And the fact that he was the King of Zaun wouldn’t have helped matters either. I mean, he was probably inundated with rivals and wannabe-kingpins trying to hurt him and Jinx. And not to mention the rumours you’d heard of his troubled past. It made sense that he’d struggle to trust people with all those factors working against him.

But it didn’t stop it from hurting. You thought it had been different between the two of you. That there was something special going on. Perhaps you’d been wrong.

Using your work as a distraction, you focused on keeping yourself busy. And when you were lying to yourself as readily as you’d lied to your boss about when you’d been kidnapped, you could almost believe that you didn’t feel as disappointed as you truly did.

But, the watery illusion you’d found yourself drowning in is pulled down the plug, leaving you mentally gasping for air, when Silco arrives at your stall a few days later. In all honesty, you weren’t expecting to see him so soon after your little misunderstanding, so you feel positively bewildered and entirely unprepared for the encounter.

You’re sat on the tiny little stool, even though the big stool is empty, as your boss has deserted you to fetch some lunch from another stall. Rather awkwardly, there’s a good few moments where Silco just stares down at you and you stare back up at him, trying to figure out just what he’s thinking.

He looks, dare you say… nervous? It’s fairly similar to the way he’d looked when you had left him in his office all that time ago, but there’s something different about it. More hesitant. You bite the bullet and speak first (yet again).

“Hello.” 

It’s a quiet sound, one that has him pursing his lips and nodding at you, which you assume is his greeting, as he places down a thin box on the counter in front of you. A quick, confused glance is all you afford him, before you slowly lift off the top to reveal an intricately designed knife. It’s beautiful.

“What’s this?” you ask breathlessly.

You half expect him to say ‘a knife’, like the sarcastic twat he is, but his sincere response tugs at your heart strings.

“An apology.”

The knife itself is sharp, clearly forged by hand, and immaculately polished, if the sharp glint in the neon lights of the market is anything to go by. The hilt is sleek black, detailed with thin, burgundy stripes. His colours.

You feel tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes at the weight of this expensive gift and the sincerity of his words. You thought that him defending you from rude customers was too good to be true, but this was on a whole new level. It made you want to wrap your arms around him and show him just how much you appreciate the grand gesture, to kiss him until he can’t mistake your forgiveness.

But you knew it’d be too much, especially in front of the whole market. So you tease him instead, if only to stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks.

“Thank you, I needed a new bread knife.”

He rolls his eyes and sighs deeply as you manage to meet his gaze once again.

“Your lack of familiarity with knives is concerning, given how many you sell on a daily basis.”

You’re about to tell him that the average shopper doesn’t visit your stall looking for weapons, unlike him in his endearingly crime lord-y manner, when he reaches across the table and gently takes one of your hands into his own.

You think you might have stopped breathing. Is he trying to kill you?

A tender squeeze of your hand brings your focus back to his eyes, creating a moment that is eerily reminiscent of the way he’d squeezed your arms, just before you’d collapsed onto him in the warehouse. You almost feel just as dizzy this time, even without the head trauma.

“I’d like to make it up to you. Let me take you out,” Silco tells you, his soft tone matching the unbearably soft look on his face.

There’s nothing to make up for. Nothing to forgive. You want to tell him he’s already proved just how sorry he is. But that doesn’t stop you from blurting out your ridiculous question instead.

“What, like a date? Or take me out as in murder?” you ask, not knowing which one you’d prefer. Probably the date. …Probably.  

Silco rolls his eyes again and you worry that if he keeps doing it so dramatically like that, they might just fall out one day. That’d be a shame. What would they call him then? The Long-Nose of Zaun?

“No.”

“Okay then, I’ll just wear my dusty, old work apron if it’s not a date or an execution,” you respond demurely, shrugging one shoulder.

“You’d look lovely in anything, my dear,” he murmurs, as he strokes his thumb across your hand.

Fuck. WHAT IS HE DOING THAT FOR, NOW??

He must be able to feel the way your pulse begins to raise because his demeanour melts from one of worry to its usual cheeky manner, that appeared to be reserved solely for you.

“So?” he prompts, an eyebrow raising at your obvious sensitivity to his touch.

It takes a few moments of really staring at him before you can give your answer. You had to make sure there was nothing hidden in those captivating eyes of his. Nothing that might suggest he had any ulterior motives that might convince you this was a bad idea. But to your relief, all you saw was longing. Longing to spend more time with you.

“…alright, go on then. I’ll go on a date with you.”

His smile makes you feel like you’re going to burst with joy.

When you’d first realised that it was Silco tied to the chair behind yours, you thought your life was over. Never in a million years would you have expected it to lead to you feeling like your life was just beginning. 

But here you were. Holding hands with the King of Zaun as he leant across the market stall, his sleeve getting caught slightly on a whisk that you were in the process of cleaning before he’d shown up. And if that wasn’t the most romantic thing you could think of, you didn’t know what was.

PART 4

-

A/N: this is now a fast burn bc apparently I believe in love at first sight??? who’d have thunk?? Not me, that’s for sure

Also, I hope this is better than part 2 which I worried wasn’t as good. I hope I didn’t disappoint anybody :( I’m still getting used to writing prose, I’m normally a screenwriter (not professionally tho… I wish)

Tag list: @htmlbitxh

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Limp Noodle ~ S.H.

A/n: I have never once been good at making choices so I’ll be doing both OOF! This request is dirt old but whatever. I’m actually writing requests now look at me go!

Request: “...prompt 20 or 21 Steve Harrington x clumsy male reader” by anon

#20 (here): “I can’t do this without you”

#21: “Guess who broke their nose! Me. It’s me. I broke my nose.”

Word Count: 2000+

MASTERLIST

“Are you SURE that this is a good idea?” The words came from Y/n as Steve parked the car, waving through the windshield window at Jonatan, Nancy, Robin and a new friend, Bianca. They’d all decided on a triple date and like idiots they’d let Steve, Bianca, and Nancy decide so they were now all headed on a hike. Robin was the least athletic of all of them and hated exercise of any kind. Jonathan was the one in the group who hated being outside in the sun and much preferred being inside cuddled on the could other swaddled in bed. Y/n... well Y/n was the single most clumsy person you’ve ever met.

Now, take whatever image that popped in your head when I said that and then make it ten times worse. Then take THAT mental image and multiply by it by ten AGAIN. Y/n was worse. He was absolutely sure he was going to thrip and fall over the side of some steep hill and fully die. He would be lucky to make it out of this trip without a stick going through his eye. Y/n and the outdoors didn’t mix. They never had. He could barely walk, let alone when it was uphill and outside and humid and hard to breathe and everyone was so beautiful and distracting.

Steve didn’t agree with that analysis.

“This is a great idea actually,” Steve decided with complete confidence. “Don’t worry about it okay? You’ll be fine.”

“Incorrect,” Y/n Aries immediately. “We started dating because I tripped seven times and you caught me every single one. I tripped seven times in three days Steve - and that was just the, what, one hour a day you’re with me? In THREE HOURS I TRIPPED SEVEN TIMES!” He was whisper yelling, getting rather heated. “I’m going to knock my head into a tree and bleed out.”

Steve laughed. He reached over, taking his boyfriend’s hands. “Do you trust me?”

Y/n’s shoulders sagged. “That is a cheap trick, Harrington.”

In response Steve only raised his eyebrows. When Y/n refused to answer, Steve sighed. “Y/n. Do you trust me?”

Closing his eyes a second, Y/n held in a sigh. When he opened them again, he managed a small smile. “Yeah. I trust you.” Steve went to get out of the car and Y/n caught his wrist. “Just promise you’re going to stay with me okay? I can’t do this without you. I’m serious.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on Drama King.” They both got out and made their way over to the other four.

“Hey guys!” Nancy greeted warmly. She had calmed a lot since Y/n had first met her. Darkened. But she was still pleasant enough, and Y/n tolerated her for Steve. He didn’t know why they were all friends after Nancy’s brutal ripping up Steve’s heart but... he expected it was that trauma bonding things that Steve and Robin refused to ever talk about with Y/n in the room.

“Hey bestie.” Robin winked at Y/n and he felt himself relax. Around her he always felt more comfortable. She got him on a much deeper level than Steve did. She had actually been the one to set them up after failure after failure of Steve’s attempts on girls who came to the ice cream shop they met at originally. It had gone up in flames recently, but they’d snagged a job at a movie store so they still worked together. Y/n was pretty sure neither of them would have it any other way, even if they sometimes pretended to hate each other.

“Hey loser,” Y/n joked back. Robin shoved him and he laughed, accidentally ramming into Jonathan as his feet almost came out underneath him. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbled.

Robin scoffed in amusement. “I always forget you have two backward feet.” This was something she said often, in reference to the popular statement of ‘two left feet’. One day Robin had proclaimed that Y/n was something worse than two left feet, and then being backward had kicked off as an inside joke.

“I’d you have that problem standing still, how do you think you’re going to do on a hike?” It seemed Bianca was trying to get in on the joking, but it hit a hard cord with Y/n.

He wasn’t in the mood to joke. “What can I say? Great day to die.” He put on the fakest smile ever. “Come on everyone!” Then he began to surge ahead, onto the trail, and the others scrambled to catch up.

It didn’t tale long for Nancy and Bianca to hit the head of the trail. Steve dutifully stayed by Y/n, but he watched the girls head with a sort of forlorness. Because Y/n was so slow and Jonathan and Robin lagged even behind him, the two girls in front were racing up and down the steep sides of the path they were on, jumping over logs and hopping up on stumps to make the path harder. They were laughing hard and having a great time. Y/n knew that Steve desperately wanted to join them.

What kind of a boyfriend would Y/n be to stop him? “Go on,” Y/n sighed, nudging Steve forward encouragingly.

Steve looked at Y/n with an expression that tried far too hard at innocence to succeed. It was so obvious he was full of crap that Y/n was rolling his eyes before the brunette even spoke. “What? What do you mean? I’m having a great time with my boyfriend which was the point of this whole thing. Have I bored you already?”

“No, but I’ve bored you. Go and do parkour with the bad ass chicks up there. Go on.” Steve hesitated, but when Y/n shot him a look, he finally did speed ahead to catch up and join in the unnecessary shenanigans that gave Y/n extreme anxiety just imagining himself doing. He sighed watching Nancy and Steve. He knew that things were WAY over between them, but Y/n found a little jealousy in the way they worked together so fluidly. They were perfect for each other - even as friends. She just kept up with him and challenged him in a way that Y/n never could, and Steve thrived.

Slowing down in his moment of annoyance, Robin and Jonathan caught up to him. “Welcome to the world of those who have to sit back and wonder why they’re not still dating,” Jonathan sighed. His voice was as laced with bitterness as Y/n’s thoughts were.

“They’re so complimentary,” Y/n complained.

“You could argue that you guys are the same,” Robin pointed out. “You both hate doing anything outside or away from home. You both love reading and photography. I mean Y/n’s incredible view of the world allows him to be a great writer, but it also connects you two. Writing and photography aren’t far from each other and you prod that every day. Nancy can’t slow down enough to appreciate things like Jonathan does, and we all know Steve is no reader.” She chuckled. “And we’ll never know how awkward and snappy got buff and pretty.”

Jonathan and Y/n smiled at that. “Imagine another world where Nancy and Steve stayed together. Then maybe you and me would have-“ suddenly he lost his words as he tripped, and Jonathan reached out to catch him. The two boys busted up laughing. “That’s the second I have to say both sorry and thank you for your reflexes Mr. Byers.”

“Ah anytime. That’s what friends do. Share interests and talk about alternative world where they’re dating and catch each other when they almost die.”

That made Y/n laugh harder.

Suddenly there was a very unpleasant thump and a scream. The three in the back snapped their attention to the three ahead and saw Nancy and Bianca freeze and look back at Steve, who had landed on the ground. His hands had risen to cover his face, and he slowly turned on his side, curling in on himself. It seemed like he’d misstepped at some point and tripped and fallen.

Perhaps Y/n shouldn’t have been the one they worried about on this trip...

-

When they finally got Steve to the hospital, it was a mess. There had been blood everywhere, and Y/n’s weirdly good driving had saved the day in a pinch once again. They’d gotten there quickly and in one piece without getting pulled over.

Only an hour later they were given news. Steve came out with the skin around his nose already bruised and puffy. “Guess Who broke their nose,” he mocked in a song songey voice.

“Me?” Y/n joked.

“Me!” Steve agreed, pointing at himself. “It’s me. I broke my nose.” He slung an arm over Y/n’s shoulders and the other four covered their mouths to hide laughs. People wouldn’t be forgiving in public if it got out that the two men were dating, so they were trying to be lowkey.

The Doctor came over behind Steve. “He’ll be fine. I’ve given him direction son how to ice it and even given him some pain killers to help with the next few hours. But it is just a broken nose, so nothing too severe.”

“Thanks,” Y/n told the Doctor. They left then, everyone heading home. Y/n designated himself in charge of caring for Steve, and called his parents to let them know that Steve ‘got tired’ after the hike and totally knocked out. They didn’t mind, liking that Steve was actually spending time with other kids again, so it went without too much problem.

As Y/n was tucking Steve into bed, Steve caught his hand to still him. “I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. They hadn’t said that yet but... well, if hypotheticals with Jonathan had taught anything today, it was that Y/n was glad he was in this version of things, even if it was a little more complicated this way. So he meant it when he replied, “I love you too Stevie.”

Steve glared. “Not Jonathan?”

“Jon-“ Y/n’s deep confusion cleared as he realized what had been happening right when Steve had tripped. Jonathan and Y/n had been close. Laughing. Talking. Touching. “Oh my god Harrington did you break your nose because you were being a jealous idiot?”

“Maybe,” Steve grumbled, looking away.

Y/n laughed, gently tugging on his chin so their eyes met again. “Please sweetheart, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Me and my two backward feet are going to plague you for the rest of our lives.”

Steve’s eyes got very soft. “Do you really mean that?”

Getting sincere, Y/n leaned down and kissed Steve’s forehead. “Stephen Harrington, I’ve never meant anything more. I know we can’t get married or anything, or even date publicly, but... I don’t care. And maybe that’s some really forward thinking and we haven’t been dating that long, but I fell... a LOT of times in my life. It only made sense that the first time someone ever caught me, it was you. And it made me realize that I was gifted with my two backward feet so that one day I’d fall for you.”

Steve groaned. “That was painfully cheesy.”

“Okay, okay,” Y/n dismissed, rolling his eyes. The sweet moment was completely ruined.

“No seriously I would break my nose again before hearing that-“

Y/n reached over, turning the light off before climbing into bed with Steve. “Shut up Harrington, or I WILL break your nose again.”

Steve laughed before pulling Y/n close so they could fall asleep curled up with each other. “My cheesy, dumb, clumsy boy,” Steve mused quietly.

That made Y/n scoff. “If either of ya is the dumb in this relationship it’s YOU, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve whispered. It was quiet a while before he finally followed up with, “I’d like that future with you too.”

To hide his smile, Y/n mumbled, “Good night Stevie.”

After a second, Steve replied, “Good night, Y/n.” And for now, that was the end of it.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.19

The True Heir

03/09/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,781

Warnings: angst, depression, pregnancy, marital troubles, pining

A/N: There is very little editing. Forgive me. I’m sleepy. I’ve been up writing all night. I’ve also been hurting, but it’s all good! I’m so happy to get this chapter out. *insert evil laugh* If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! it truly means so much, more than you know. xoxo

Sunday

Today you do nothing.

You’d opened up your laptop last night and attempted to scribble a few lines for your next book, but all you could think about was Thor, Jane, the babies to come, and where exactly you fit amongst all of it.

After typing Thor’s name along with a few other random words for the tenth time, you gave up and shut the laptop. You’d crawled into bed, bundled up under your fluffy comforter, and bid goodbye to the world as you caved in to unconsciousness.

The fact that morning is here, you find that your hope for today to be better than  yesterday was silly. How can anything ever be good again?

You place your hands on your lower tummy, caressing what feels like a very slight swell. It’s just barely harder than the rest of your stomach. Firm. Despite the happiness that your baby brings you, you stare across the room at your computer and can’t find it in you to get up and work.

Instead you roll over onto your other side and pull Thor’s--that is to say, the one he’d used while he was here--pillow over to cling to.

Thor’s texts are also still fresh in your mind.

Sleep didn’t dull their effect on you or the confusion they raised.

Did they mean that he wouldn’t get an annulment? That’s sorta what you were getting from them. His declarations that he couldn’t live without you and that he would die for you and that he missed you so much at his side sounded like he was also telling himself how he felt. As if he were, not so much convincing, but reaffirming what he already knew.

You reach over and switch your phone on, clicking through to your messages to find that Thor must have stolen his phone back from Loki at some point.

Thor: Good morning, my cherub. I hope you slept well.

Thor: I could hardly sleep with you absent beside me.

Thor: Our bed is too big without you in it.

Thor: Have you seen the doctor yet? You’ll text me as soon as you get a diagnosis, won’t you? I’ll be waiting.

Thor: Loki insists that I give you some distance to rest but being apart from you is torture.

Thor: Would you be very angry with me if I came to see you?

Thor: I have some things I must deal with here before I can go though. Loki is right. I should allow you rest and fix things here before I come to you.

Thor: Are you still sleeping, cherub? I’m sorry if my messages are disturbing you. I haven’t gone this long without talking to you since...I wish I’d met you years ago. When things weren’t so complicated.

Thor: Would you have let me court you even though I am the God of Thunder? Future King of Asgard? Would you have married me when I came back with my people to live here on Earth?

Thor: I think if I had to choose all over again, you’re still the only woman equal to the task of being my Queen.

Thor: And the love that has grown between us is...I will never take it for granted…

As you read that last message, you assume he wants to say he won’t take it for granted again. He’s already let it slip through his fingers, although he doesn’t know it yet.

Thor: Perhaps this can be that break you were talking of. For our baby? Maybe we do need a little bit of relaxation to let our bodies recover?

Thor: And yet, I can’t wait to start a family with you, cherub.

You’re bawling all over again, your eyes flooding with tears as you bury your face into his pillow and sob loudly.

He’d said that he missed your body next to his. You can relate. You want to feel the heavy fall of his chest, the deep breaths that fill his lungs and escape through his lips in a quiet little snore that always makes you cuddle into his side.

Normally, he’d respond by turning to face you and holding you right up against his chest.

The comfort that simple thing would give you right now when your heart is aching so painfully is what you so desperately need. But...you’re so angry too. You don’t want him near you.

The images that flood your mind are torture. Mixtures of pleasant, happy moments now marred by the betrayal and anger that has taken hold of your heart.

You bury your face into the pillow and scream until your throat really does go hoarse. Frustration at the force of change you’ve had to make in the past twenty-four hours.

You’re startled back to the present when your phone rings. You make a small attempt  to clear your throat then answer and the absolute gravel voice you use settles any wondering as to whether your illness is real.

“Hello?” you whisper, clearing your throat to no avail.

“Oh, cherub, you sound terrible.”

Your heart panics. How are you supposed to talk to him?

You don’t want to talk to him.

“I can’t really talk,” you say weakly hoping he’ll take the hint.

“Did the doctor see you already?” Thor asks, his worry evident in the quiet tone of his voice.

“Yes, he gave me some medicine and told me to try not to talk,” you lie, surprisingly easy right now since you don’t want to talk.

For your emotional sanity, you need to hang up soon.

“I’m so sorry, love. I wish I could take this illness from you. Where’s David? I’d like to talk to him.”

You panic again, floundering as you cough and clear your throat to buy some time.

“He’s not here. He went to the store to get some groceries,” you hope he buys it.

“I’ll call him a little later then. If you need anything, let me know. I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks, Thor,” you mumble, suddenly not wanting to hang up.

How can one person give you so much ease and worry all at once? How can he be your source of agony and comfort at the same time? It’s not fair.

“I have so much to tell you, but...now is not the right time. You need to get better first.”

Nevermind! Fuck this guy. Your heart sinks.

“I have to go,” you tell him, hoping he’ll just hang up and leave you be now.

“Very well. I love you, cherub.”

How do you answer him without giving anything away just yet?

“Me too,” you choose. And it’s true.

Even if he’s torn your heart into pieces, he’s still the father of your baby and you still love him.

Whatever madness overcame him when he’d suggested to Loki getting an annulment was the best course of action seems to have passed. Loki must be right about him.

“Bye, Thor,” you whimper.

“Bye, Y/N,” he says your name, making your heart quake a bit.

You hang up and quickly dial up David.

He answers after two rings.

“Hello? How is my favorite girl in the whole wide world?”

He sounds amused by something, or just happy. It’s such a difference to how you feel at the moment that it breaks you and you sob again, renewing your tears.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” David demands, clearly now beginning to fret over the way you sound.

You tell him everything. Somehow you manage to get it all out minus one important detail and when you’re done recounting the most horrible night of your life, David sighs heavily and you can almost picture him settling into a deep armchair with massive worry weighing on his shoulders.

“Well, the good thing is, if he goes through with an annulment, you’re to be given a monthly allowance for the rest of your life. It was a condition in your contract, should Thor change his mind about marrying you. But he didn’t so it was moot, until now. You will be a very rich woman. More so than the small fortune you originally inherited.

“I know that money is hardly a consolation for the man that you love-” David sighs again. “Perhaps he said it in madness? He must have been very upset. Caught by surprise?” David offers.

“Even if he doesn’t mean it or doesn’t go through with it, I know that for you the point is the thought was there.

“However, I do think we must make allowances for Thor. I’m sorry to say. He is a king and he’s responsible for his entire people. A baby would give them security. Stability. A legitimate heir would tie them to Earth forever.

“We musn’t make light of his choices. This isn’t a common situation to find one’s self in. For either of you.”

“David, I’m pregnant.” You finally explain, knowing that it will maybe just show him a little bit more of what you’re facing. “I went to tell Thor and that’s when I overheard them.”

For a moment he’s speechless. When he speaks again, his voice is heightened.

“Congratulations! I-I knew it would happen eventually. The timing is a little-”

“I haven’t told him yet, clearly.”

Silence again. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I was so happy when I went to tell him and then I heard their conversation and I-I just can’t find the strength to do it right now. Not until I know whether he wants the annulment.”

David breathes in deeply and then exhales slowly into the phone. His breath is light and soft.

“You’re afraid that he will only stay with you because of the child,” a statement.

David knows you better than anyone else in your life. It’s not surprising that he’d make the leap so quickly.

“He’s willing to leave me and marry Jane because of her baby. It’s possible that he’ll stay by my side only because of our baby and I’d rather he do what’s best for our people than to stay with me because of a sense of obligation.”

“It could be that Jane will not want him. She might keep her child away from the Asgardian royal court. Didn’t she refuse to marry him because she didn’t want to be Queen?” David’s voice is pensive. “This might all feel much larger than it is. I suggest you take some time to really think through your actions before making any decisions.”

“I’m not going to never tell him, David. He’s the father of my child. He has to know that he has two and not just the one. I don’t think I could do that to him. I could never keep him from his children.

“Either of them.”

“You are magnanimous, Y/N. More than even I thought you were capable of.”

“Bullshit. I ran away and am refusing to see him until I get my week of space,” you nod firmly. “But David-?”

“Tell me,” he urges you, recognizing your tone of anguish.

“I-I know that I accepted this marriage hesitantly. It wasn’t like I asked for it and you know how I felt before Thor asked me to marry him. You know how s-scared I was about marrying someone who was in love with someone else, and now...now he’s-”

“He’s married to you, Y/N. Not Ms. Foster. And from what I have been able to see, he does love you. Not Jane. This is a temporary setback. If you’re angry at him, be angry at him. Don’t pretend you aren’t. If you’re hurt, show it. Wear your heart on your sleeve.

“Loving someone is one of life’s greatest blessings. Sometimes that love doesn’t last, sometimes it takes a beating. But you must choose whether your love is worth fighting for.

“You’ve also got obligations that you cannot escape from. Duties to your people as their Queen.”

“Assuming Thor doesn’t leave me and take my crown,” you scoff.

“I’m with your brother-in-law. I don’t think it will come to that. I think Thor was a little shocked and thrown by Ms. Foster’s news. Now that he has had some time to think, I believe he’ll do right by you and when you tell him, your child.”

“I won’t tell him until he makes up his mind,” you insist.

“That is your prerogative. Do what you need to. What can I do to help? What do you need from me?”

“Just be prepared for any eventuality. I’m not sure what’s going to happen at the end of this week. Oh, and if Thor calls you--just make something up and tell me what you say. He thinks you drove me from the airport and have been staying with me.”

“Using me as your alibi so that your husband won’t come looking for you,” David clicks his tongue. “How much detail shall I give him?”

“You’ve got a job too, just tell him you’re coming and going. Tony had his staff install some security on the house after the honeymoon. I’m safe here. He’ll believe that I’m safe if that’s all you say.

“Anyway, I need to go. I have two more calls to make before I can relax and enjoy my break from the throne.”

“If you need anything, you know how to reach me. Anything, Y/N. I mean it.”

“Thanks, David. I can always count on you,” you smile.

Just a tiny one. A very subtle curve at the corners of your lips.

“Well, you do pay me,” he jokes, which actually pulls a small laugh from you.

“Right. Bye, David.”

“Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

You take only a minute to think about your conversation with David before you make the most important calls of your week in solitude.

The first one is simple. Just a reminder of doctor-patient confidentiality. He understands what you’re saying even if he doesn’t practice by that mentality.

Dr. Wilson’s phone call is more difficult. She wants an explanation. She wants to know why she’s not allowed to tell your husband, the King of New Asgard, that he’s finally got what you and he have been wanting.

An heir!

It’s painful to talk about but you tell her what’s happened. You tell her that Thor doesn’t know that you know about Jane’s baby.

She’s very quiet as you talk. She assumes things and you can hear her anger when she starts to ask for what she can tell Thor.

“He didn’t cheat on me, Dr. Wilson,” you explain, hoping that this will ease her anger.

You’re angry at Thor because of the annulment, not because he and Jane have created a life from their love. You’re hurt because he’s willing or was willing--you’re not sure yet--to leave you to be with Jane, even if not for love but for the baby growing within her.

You’re hurt because the man you love was choosing his duty over his feelings for you.

Even though you know that he’s right to do it. Even though you know that you should understand because he’s King and you also took an oath to put the people of New Asgard first.

It’s your duty to put their well-being before your own. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

In Thor’s mind, his only duty is to his child. Jane’s child. He doesn’t know you’re carrying one of your own yet. Even though that would probably make sure that he stays with you because of the baby, you don’t want that to be the reason he stays.

Proud fool.

“Thor slept with Jane the same night he proposed to me. This was before we loved each other, when leaving Jane was the hardest thing he’d had to do. I don’t hold that against him.”

You don’t tell her about the annulment. She doesn’t need to know how messy this all is.

“He’ll probably call for you and Dr. Alric soon. Loki suggested they get Jane checked so act surprised? But please don’t tell him I’m pregnant. Not yet. He’s coming to see me at the end of the week and I’ll tell him myself then. Please?” And it really is a genuine plea.

“I’ll do whatever you need, Your Majesty. I would like to come and check on you. You don’t sound well.”

She’s very sweet and her concern is touching.

“Thor will probably send you to me eventually. He’s worried but he’s clearly got other things on his mind.”

“I’ll make arrangements to head over there tomorrow. Oh, can you hold for one minute Your Majesty? I’m so sorry.”

“Of course.”

There’s silence on the phone for a few minutes before she comes back.

“It was His Majesty. He’s told me about Jane but she’s not available for an examination until later in the week. So, he’s asked me to come to you first. I’ll be there tonight.”

For some reason, the idea of having her with you eases some of the stress you’ve been carrying with you since yesterday.

“I’ll call and have a car sent for you.”

“Actually, His Majesty has promised to bring me straight to you via bifrost.”

“Wait, what?” You sit up in bed, clutching your blanket to your chest as your nerves suddenly fray and panic begins to build up within you.

“Should I come by plane?” She asks, worried by the sound of your voice.

You can’t see Thor. No. You can’t.

“No. I’ll just be going out later tonight to pick up a few things that I need here at the house. Toilet paper, napkins, laundry soap. I just didn’t want you to get here when I was out, but I’ll text you the passcode to get in.”

You’ll just have to make sure that you’re not at home when they come. That’s what you’ll do. This is a perfect excuse to be out since you need to get the stuff you listed anyway.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t just like me to come by plane?”

“No, really. The sooner you get here, the better. The car ride is so long from the airport. I’ll see you tonight, Dr. Wilson.”

“Bye, Your Majesty.”

Even though you know that you have hours upon hours until Thor brings Dr. Wilson here, you force yourself out of bed and abandon your plans to wallow in your feelings so that you can shower, get dressed, and leave the house.

If Thor’s coming, you’re going to be as far away from your house as you can be. You’re not ready to see him again just yet. You only have small errands to run but you’re gonna stay out all damn day if it’s the last thing you do.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday

Thor is at a loss. Completely and utterly lost without you.

If he was ever in doubt as to how he really felt about you--which he never has been because he knows himself well enough to know better--he knows now that you are the light of his new life here on Earth.

His reign would mean significantly less without you at his side.

Even though the time you’ve spent together has been a short few months, they have been the best months of his life.

If he’d had one of those other women he’d interviewed become his Queen, this life he’s chosen to lead would have felt empty and tedious. Instead of watching his Queen spend her time with his people leading the way in progress.

You’re so eager to be part of the Asgardian populace. They’ve embraced you so fully.

With a sigh, Thor leans forward and buries his face into his hands as he mentally trashes himself for the absolute fool that he’s been about this entire situation.

The fact that he’d even entertained the thought of leaving you.

He wants to cry and tear his hair out in frustration.

Should he tell you that the thought was weighed along with many others at Jane’s news?

And Jane.

Thor groans.

She’s been avoiding him since she told him. He can’t exactly blame her for it. He hadn’t exactly taken the news well.

He had no reason to expect her to be receptive to him after he’d basically accused her of being confused about it. She knew her own body. If she said she was pregnant, what reason would he have to doubt her?

He’s messed everything up so much and he’s terrified to tell you about Jane.

What if you have the same idea he did? What if you decide to leave him in some foolish attempt to have him marry her and legitimize his future child?

It’s something you would do. Sacrifice yourself so that he could do the right thing.

The thought of living this life of rule without you at his side is unbearable.

With another frustrated groan, he gets up and moves to pace the length of the room, ignoring the large pile of paperwork on his desk as his mind moves in circles.

It always comes back to you.

And then you’d been out when he’d gone to drop off Dr. Wilson. He hadn’t expected you to be gone. He’d wanted to see you. To hold you. Touch you. Hear your voice after so much turmoil.

You are his only solace.

Going so close to you and not seeing you has left him with a terrible pain in his chest.

His phone rings.

Thor dives for his phone and fumbles with it as he grabs it off the bed. He almost loses it over the opposite edge.

He literally throws himself towards it and lands with a grunt onto the bed as he catches it.

He presses the button on the screen without looking to see who it is because he only wants it to be you.

“Cherub?” he gasps, his voice an octave higher than normal with the little bit of exertion he just underwent.

“Oh, no. Sorry, Your Majesty, it’s Dr. Wilson. I was just calling to give you your daily report on Her Majesty’s health.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry. I just haven’t heard from-” He clears his throat, sits up, and slides to the edge of the bed. “No matter. How is my Queen, doctor?”

“She was asleep. But just woke up. She’s very tired. Her throat is better, but she’s had a fever every morning since Sunday.”

Thor sits up straighter, hand clenched into a fist around the edge of the bed as his heart starts to thrum loudly.

“Is she seriously ill?”

“No, of course not, Your Majesty. But she really does need rest. She has been under severe stress and I’m sorry to say that your constant messages are not letting her rest.”

Thor’s heart drops and buries itself into a hole at the bottom of his stomach. He feels numb suddenly, fearful of what he might be doing to you. The guilt of what he knows he must tell you soon also weighs down on him.

“Are you saying that I should leave her be until she is recovered?” Thor checks, just in case he’s not understanding correctly.

“I’m saying that if you want her to get well quickly, you must give her what she asked you for. She needs rest.”

Thor hates that he can’t be there to check on you. He wants to feel you close. He wants to see you. What if you’re deathly ill and you’re telling Dr. Wilson to lie for you?

You abhor lies and cherish honesty , but he can see you lying in order to spare him pain. Just as he is lying to spare you the worry of all this uncertainty with Jane.

Although he knows that he can never lose you now and even with a child coming with Jane, you are his wife and he can’t leave you. He was stupid to think he could even try. The thought was a sin and he’ll never forgive himself for thinking it.

Loki was so angry with him.

Rightfully so.

The good thing is that you’ll never know how bleak things looked. At least he has found his sanity again.

“Will you keep me informed? I’ll stop contacting her if you will promise to tell me how she fares. If she gets worse, I want to know.” Thor insists, his voice passionate and begging.

“You have my word, Your Majesty. Have you heard anything from Ms. Foster? Do we know exactly when we’ll be running her tests?”

“She’s very busy. As of now, it’s looking more and more likely that we won’t be able to find the time until the week’s end. After we confirm her pregnancy, I’ll tell Y/N. I’m sorry that I’ve asked you to collude in this business.”

There’s a long pause and for a moment Thor thinks that maybe the phone has disconnected but then Dr. Wilson sighs, “I cannot wait for this week to be over. Will you come back for me then? When she’s ready?”

“Yes. I’ll pick you up in the same spot that I left you. My wife wasn’t too upset about her lawn, was she? Only, Stark seems to get irritated with me every time I land on his.”

“No,” Dr. Wilson chuckles once. “She was not upset. Again, there’s little more than her throat, head, and fever on her mind. I’ve gotta go. She’s gone out into the garden for some fresh air but I need to get her back into bed.”

“Please take good care of her, doctor. She’s...well, she’s my wife,” Thor finishes heavily.

The phone goes dead and Thor sits there staring at his phone until he can find the strength to get to his feet and go off in search of Jane. They really need to talk.

~~~~~~~~~~

Friday

Thor is upset.

He’s beyond frustrated by now.

He’s irritated.

It’s a week tomorrow since he’s seen you and he can’t stand the distance anymore.

Dr. Wilson snuck him a photo but you’d been sitting on your sofa, looking weak and withdrawn.

He’s not sure what exactly is making you sick, but he knows that he can’t go another day without seeing you.

He needs to get Dr. Wilson back here and he needs to get confirmation so that he can have something to tell you once he sees you.

He won’t lose you over this.

It was one last time. One final goodbye with Jane and he’d thought she was on her birth control but apparently she hadn’t been so he hadn’t bothered to protect himself from the possibility of getting her pregnant.

Why hadn’t she said anything?! Why hadn’t she told him that she wasn’t on her pill?

He knows it’s wrong to blame her. It took both of them to make this baby, but being away from you for so long is wearing thin and he’s losing all semblance of patience.

It takes some very careful maneuvering. Heimdall is sent first, then Hilde, then Loki.

None of them know why they’re going in to corner Jane in the tower except for Loki. Well, Heimdall knows, but there’s no hiding much from Heimdall. He pretends not to know and that’s good enough for Thor.

Loki is just stepping out of the tower when he turns to look at Thor with a grave almost exhausted expression.

“She’s up there,” he assures Thor, frowning as he shuts the heavy door. “When will this end, Thor? Are you going to keep the Queen away forever?”

Thor says nothing, he’s too upset to speak. He pulls the door open roughly and stomps his way up the steps taking them two at a time until he’s standing on the top floor landing.

He can see Jane biting her lip, pacing the length of the room until she turns and finally sees him.

“Thor…” she gasps, not expecting to see him.

“We have to talk, Jane.”

She looks away, turning her back on him then moves towards her laptop which she carefully closes. She puts her hand up to her throat and turns to face him.

“I will have Dr. Wilson brought in and Dr. Alric to give you the same tests they have been giving Y/N. They will be confirming your pregnancy and once we have that, then we can all sit down and figure out-”

“I’m not pregnant,” Jane gasps, her voice filling the room despite the quiet breath that escapes her pink lips.

Thor’s stomach twists. It’s agony.

On the one hand, the words she’s just spoken are...they’re a celebration. They’re simplicity. They’re peace and a return back to normal where in his life there is only you.

On the other hand, he’s just lost a baby he never had. An heir that he’d been expecting and now can never get back.

He’d made plans for this child. He’s pictured his life with them, the happiness and joy that their birth would bring to the people of New Asgard. The assurance that they would always belong to Earth.

He’d picked names for boys and girls. He’d begun to make a list of nursery items they would need even as he lamented that the baby was not yours but Jane’s.

This baby would have, and had already begun to change his life.

And now this?!

“What?” he very nearly spits.

Jane is so flustered she’s wringing her hands hard, welting them red.

“I’m...I didn’t expect to come here and see you with her and see how fast you just-” she waves her hand as if shooing away some animal. “-moved on. It’s like you were never with me.

“You were both so happy and talking about the future and I just lost it for a little bit,” she shrugs. “I have no excuses, Thor. I’m sorry if what I said hurt you. It was selfish of me and I just loved you for so long. You were mine, you know? And now you’re married, planning to have kids, and your wife is so nice and considerate and even though she has every reason to hate me, she was polite and so damn perfect…

“I’m not afraid to say that it made me hate her. I’m ashamed of it, but not enough to take it back.”

The silence is thick. The air suddenly grows charged and Thor’s eyes shine a bright sparkling blue.

His hands crackle and his eye spits as if full of blue fire.

The sky overhead thunders and the world shakes with the boom. The lightning strikes sharp and fast, shaking the tower so that for a moment, Thor can see how Jane thinks it might topple.

His anger gives way to betrayal and his lightning fizzles out as he takes a step towards her, his brow furrowed, eye full of pain as he stares at her, searching for the joke that this must be.

There is no way that this is really happening.

“You lied to me?” Thor accuses.

Jane blanches, her lips going pale as she takes a step towards him.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie, I just-I didn’t want to see you with her anymore and I wasn’t thinking straight so I just said it before I could stop myself. I know that it was wrong and I didn’t think it would go on for so long. I wanted to tell you almost as soon as I said it that it wasn’t true, but then you just took off and then the Queen left and I wasn’t sure if you told her and maybe that’s why she wasn’t here.”

Thor shakes his head, turning away from her as he paces towards the stairs but then turns back, his anger returning but full of pain now.

“I defended you. When Loki insisted I have you tested I asked him if he doubted you and I assured him that you would not lie about something this important. What reason would you have to lie?” he demands, almost of himself instead of Jane.

“Thor,” Jane begins.

“How long were you going to let me think you were carrying my child? How long were you planning to con me?” he accuses and his words seem to hurt Jane.

Thor can’t find it in him to care too much.

“I wasn’t-that’s not what I meant to do, Thor. Please, you have to believe me. I just didn’t know how much seeing you with her would-”

“You have no right to be upset!” he booms, his voice loud and it startles Jane quiet.

She’s never heard him angry like this. She’s never heard his voice raised.

“I gave you every opportunity to be with me, to marry me, to build a life here with me and be my Queen. You didn’t want it! You flat-out refused to be tied down by me and this Kingdom but now that you see me and my wife happy, you change your mind?

“You have the audacity to raise obstacles between us because you have regrets?”

“Thor,” she tries again, but Thor won’t let her speak.

“Get out,” he says sternly, turning to move towards the stairs.

“What?!”

“I said, get out. You are no longer welcome in my home. Pray no one ever finds out of your treachery. And should you have the urge to return for any reason, don’t.”

Thor storms down the steps, so angry that each step shakes the tower.

He’s breathing heavily as he slams the door shut behind him.

The storm air helps to calm him a bit. It clears his mind at least and the past week zooms by him like an unpleasant movie.

All of that worry and the plotting and planning. The agony that he felt wondering if you’d leave him when you found out about his child with Jane was the most unbearable.

Your face flashes before his eyes and he knows that there’s only one place he can be right now.

He throws his hand out and a metallic whistling rushes closer before his fist closes around his hammer.

He swings it firmly and throws it up into the air as he makes for your home.

Now that he has nothing to keep him here, he’s eager to get back to you. He’ll tell you everything and hope that you can forgive him for lying to you about Jane.

Even though it was a lie by omission, it was still a lie.

“I’m coming, my cherub,” he whispers, so eager to have you in his arms again.

Nothing will ever tear him from you again. He is certain. Nothing. Not a false heir, or a former love, no doubts exist within him anymore. You are the one.

The only one.

[melo-yello]

📚School Struggles📚 w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku💥🪨 HeadCanons

Pairings: KiriBaku X Black!Reader

Summary: College AU! Reader falls behind in course work, and won’t tell anybody. But Kirishima and Bakugou find out.

A/n: I’m an adult who went most of my life with undiagnosed learning disabilities so this would just be comforting to me. Lil angst! Lots of fluff. Implied ADHD and Dyslexia.

📕🖊 First tests are handed back in four of your eight classes.You’ve failed all but one which you barely passed. You are asked stay back as yet another professor suggests you find a tutor

📕🖊You’re lowkey offended. You’ve never needed a tutor before. Up until recently your performance in other areas compensated for your less than stellar academics. You were in gifted courses all your life. You would just hafta try harder

📕🖊 Kiri and Baku are saving a spot in line for you by the time you meet them at the cafe when you shove the thoughts of failure out of your brain and perk up to your usual self

📕🖊 Kiri’s face lights up as soon as he spots you. “Over here, Babe!” He beams flagging you down. Like it was hard to make out the giant red head in a crowd. Especially with the large lean, continuously pissed blonde scowling at everyone right by his side.

📕🖊 “Hey,Dumbass.” Baku smiles slightly and pulls a hand from his pocket to offer you a hug and a kiss on the temple

📕🖊 Kiri pulls you by your waist into his torso kissing your forehead “What took you so long?” He asks letting you free from the vice grip he had on your curvy hips

📕🖊 “I got a lil turned around again.” You lie pulling Bakugou’s free hand into yours then lean into his shoulder. There’s something very comforting about how warm he is all the time. You wanted to snuggle into his back but PDA really isn’t his thing and you are already pushing it

📕🖊 “It’s a big campus, Teddy, you just have to get used to it. You just transferred. Me and Eiji can take turns walking you from class to class until you get the hang of it, you know?” Baku says trying to read your eyes. He could just feel something is off. Your box braids and the angle itself saves you from any further scrutiny.

📕🖊“You guys, gotta be pretty sprung to do that for me, ya know.” You quip smirking up at him then over to Kiri. “Fuck you too, Teddy Bear.” Baku huffs smirking *maybe he was wrong, unlikely* “Yea basically, Pebs. Liking who you date is super manly.” Kirishima laughs grabbing his tray.

📕🖊 You three finally sit in a small wrap around booth. Bakugou taking the middle spot today. You do your best to not zone out and hyper fixate on your test scores by making sure to laugh at Kiri’s jokes and nod along with Baku’s venting

📕🖊 You slide your fork in and out of your picked over food as you strategize how to fix your current problem without alerting your boyfriends. Before you knew it your table is quiet with two crimson gazes fixed on you

📕🖊 “You’re quiet today, L/n.” Bakugou says fixing you with a deeply fierce gaze which was his way of looking concerned. Sharpness of your actual name drew you from your thoughts in a instant. “Hmmm I think Kats has a point, L/n Y/n.” Kirishima says in between slurps of his smoothie. His red eyes practically dripping with curious concern

📕🖊 You make a quick split decision between the truth and charm. “Wow, my government. I must be in real big trouble.” You pout trying to flirt your way out of a more serious conversation. You poke out your plush bottom at Kiri while slipping a hand onto Baku’s inner thigh and gently squeezing before hitting him with the same seductive pout

📕🖊 Big Mistake!😳 Bakugou’s vermillion eyes widen before becoming instantly stern as he grips your wrist tight enough to hurt. “The fuck are you doing?!! I was being serious, Y/n! And in public?!! You’re fucking priceless!” The ash blonde hisses with angry pink cheeks. Guilt washes over you when you snatch your wrist back. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to...talk about it.” You mumble. “Then use your fucking words!” 😤 Bakugou kisses his teeth and stands so Kiri lets him out. “He’s just a little embarrassed, Pebble. I needa talk him down. You can find your next class right?” He sighs watching Baku storm out

📕🖊 “Yea. I’m sorry. Tell him, Kiri. Please.” You squeak sheepishly grabbing your stuff. “He knows but I will. He’s mad about other stuff.” He nods following after Bakugou

📕🖊 It’s intimidating to compete with their history at times. You couldn’t bring yourself to just dump all your issues on them

📕🖊 You’ve only been dating since summer and Kiri and Baku have been dating since their senior year in high school year. You guys are starting your junior year and are still learning each other.

📕🖊 You get lost a couple times before finding the right building. The noise in your head going nearly at light speed to wrap all the problems you’re having. The professor passes the test you’d spent majority of last night and early morning studying for. You felt confident until it was in your hands.

📕🖊 You chew the pen top trying to finish up the last 7 short answer questions when then alarm for 5 minutes left is given. You panic not even having started the true false section on the last page. You scribble down answers just as time up is announced across the classroom

📕🖊 Defeat washes over while you shuffle out the door. You reach in your pocket to dig out the card for Student Accomidation Services your World Civ professor gave you. Maybe this was something simple as a “processing problem” as she had explained when you visited her during office hours

📕🖊 A throat clearing pulls you from your thoughts. You jump stuffing both hands into your jeans card and all. Bakugou stood unreadable propped up on a wall only a few steps away from you. “Eiji, thinks we need to talk about the cafe. Plus he doesn’t get out of lab til 3:45, so you’re kinda stuck with me.” Bakugou mumbles offering his palm as an olive branch.

📕🖊 “He’s probably right. I don’t mind just you, Tuff Guy. I really am sorry though, Katsuki.” You sigh interlocking your fingers with his. “I know, Teddy. I wasn’t really mad about that anyways.” Baku concedes as you two stroll down the hall. “I didn’t hurt your wrist earlier, did I?” Baku asks softly opening the door and meeting your eyes with gentle concern. “Nah, You didn’t, King Explosion Murder.” You laugh giving his hand a firm squeeze before kissing it

📕🖊 The walk to your dorm is quiet and peaceful. He lets you settle your school bag before speaking again “I just feel like you’re still trying to hide parts of yourself from us, especially me,” He says looking into your eyes now, “Like you’ve been pulling back. Eijirou thinks I’m looking too deep, but I doubt it. I know I can be a little rough and mean sometimes...well a lot of the times. I’m not easy to get along with. But you know you can talk to us when you’re upset or if something bothering you... if I’m bothering you. I don’t like you feeling like you have to pretend to be ok if you’re not.” Baku finishes crossing his arms tightly across your chest.

📕🖊 You dig your nails into your palms mercilessly. You open your mouth to reply and reassure him but the words won’t come. Baku notices what you’re doing to your hands and steps closer to take them into his. He rubs slow circles into the backs of them. Hot tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you try to find your voice. “Kats, I’m...I didn’t me...I...Of course you’re not what’s bothering me.” you croak out just as tears roll down your face and Baku pulls you to his chest.

📕🖊 Your breathing hitches and you just let yourself be disappointed, confused, frustrated, and upset about the last month and a half of struggling and wondering why you couldn’t tell anybody and why no one was even noticing. But He did. Baku had noticed. He rocks gently as you tremble in his arms rubbing firm circles in your lower back.

📕🖊 You two stay like that for what seems forever. Once your breathing evens out Baku’s hold relaxes. He kisses both your temples.You reluctantly let go , so you can pull wrinkled failing test pages from your backpack. “Please don’t laugh at me, Suki.” You peep placing the cause of your meltdown in his hands not attempting to have your puffy eyes met his red ones. Lifting your chin so you’re looking him in the eyes. “Come on, Teddy Bear. I wouldn’t dare.” He nods with the most serious face

📕🖊 Bakugou is quiet for a while as he leafs through the exam papers. “Why didn’t finish any of them?” He asks “Time. I’m a slow reader.” You mutter back. “I’ve seen you doing homework for two of these courses and passing those, what’s happening?” Baku says staring in disbelief at the scores at the top of each exam.

📕🖊 You swallow the lingering fear of judgement. You place a hand at your temple to remind yourself of Baku’s earlier tenderness. “I get anxious. It gets so much harder to read when I’m that worked up, and I can barely focus once I start forgetting answers...I know it’s just a test. I guess...That sounds dumb, doesn’t it?” You sigh shrug off your own explanation.

📕🖊 “Nope. Not dumb at all. Sounds like test anxiety to me. I struggled with that in high school . I didn’t know you were a slow reader, Teddy.” Baku says pulling your hand before you can dig your nails into it. “Yea. One of my professors thinks I have dyslexia and ADHD...but I’m not stupid sooo.” You hum rocking on your heels “That is not what either of those words mean, and I know you know that, L/n.” Bakugou growls he absolutely hates when you or Kirishima talk down on yourselves. “Yea but it feels like it though.” You sigh biting your lips

📕🖊 Before Baku can say a word, Kiri swings the door open. “Babes! Have you two hotties missed me?” The red head shouts coming through the door way smiling until he sees your puffy eyes and tense posture. “Bakugou Katsuki, I know you fucking didn’t?!!” Kiri questions suspiciously leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder and wrapping a protective hold around your waist.

📕🖊 “The Absolute fuc-” Baku’s defensive rant is cut short as you kiss the hand holding yours to quiet him as you answer Kiri “No Eiji, he didn’t. I’m flunking like half my classes.” You huff meeting his eyes with quivering lips trying your best not to cry all over again

📕🖊 Kiri is stunted into complete silence. The only thing he can think to say is an apology to his boyfriend for jumping to conclusions. Last time he checked your GPA’s a lot more impressive that his. “How the fuck is that even possible? You transferred into the honor courses.” Kiri says completely baffled moving to where he could see your face.

📕🖊 You explain to your boyfriends all the things that have been tripping you up and confusing you. You detail how hard studying has been as far as staying focused and actually understanding lengthy test questions

📕🖊 Kiri has a million questions at first but stops half way through after Baku grabs your overnight bag and leads you out the door. “You’re gonna freak her out all over again, Shitty Hair, if you keep going at her like that.” He could tell you were getting overwhelmed, and might cry again “My bad, Pebs.” Kiri says kissing your cheek as he follows behind

📕🖊 Once you get back to their apartment and Baku askes for your help making dinner. He has you read the directions and ingredients to him. You stumble through most of it, but that doesn’t stop him from praising you as soon as you finish. He has since learned you and Kiri do best when told how well you’re doing vs his typical shouting method

📕🖊 The three of you set an assessment time with the Student Disability Services on campus that doesn’t conflict with the Boys’ schedules, because they insisted that they’d both be there to support their baby and wouldn’t take your bullshit excuses for an actual reason to miss it

📕🖊 Kiri helps you make flash cards for your next test. If he remembers nothing else from Baku’s tutoring sessions the importance of repetition is drilled into him...among other things. Each time you ask him how that went he’ll just shudder. “It was the most intensely terrifying experience of my high school career, and we fought villains pretty regularly.” Kiri deadpans before grinning like the Cheshire Cat and covering his head. “You’re full of fucking shit, Shark Week! I’m the best tutor you assholes could hope for.” Baku yells pushing Kiri’s face into his pages of notes.

📕🖊 The night before your disability assessment you find yourself tossing and turning at like 4:45 in the morning. Kiri repositions pinning you in place so you face Baku’s back. You trace soft shapes into him just before he flips meeting your eyes. “Lil early isn’t it, Babygirl?” He whispers brushing away a few stray box braids covering your face. You don’t bother answering and instead offer him your palm and he takes it without hesitation interlocking your fingers with his. “Nervous?” He hums when he feels the steady trembling of your hand.

📕🖊 “Katsuki, what if there’s nothing wrong with me? What if it’s just me? What if I’m just...” you trail off not sure if you want him to hear how much this subject shakes your confidence. Bakugou moves close enough for your foreheads to touch. “If you’re just not smart? Not even possible. Whatever it is me and Kiri will help you go beyond. I know this is scary, but every first usually is.” Bakugou smiles softly

📕🖊 “Bbbbbuuut maybe I’m just du-” You attempt to argue until a sharp nip on the side of your neck where Kiri was peacefully nuzzled quiets you. “Nope. Not a chance. Pebble, don’t talk shit about my girlfriend again.” He mumbles in a gravelly half sleep voice. He settles again and snakes an arm around hips as he tugs Baku into you with the other. You open mouth your more to defend yourself but KatSuki just bops your nose as he closes his eyes, “You heard, the sexy ass red mountain. You’re fucking smart. Go back to sleep, Kay?”

📕🖊 “Kay.” You sigh digging your face into the crook of Baku’s neck. You lay there out argued but feeling overwhelming loved, so you chose to let them win the debate. The boys hardly agree on most things so they were totally probably right about this one anyways.

📕🖊 You are on a very very short list of people who Bakugou Katsuki repeats himself for. Like boy lets you “huh?” the fuck out of him. He will often cup your face or hold your hands if he needs tell you something important b/c he understands you’re a tactical learner

📕🖊 Best believe that all your future successes in classes big and small will be celebrated you getting taken out for icecream and if it’s a graded paper they’ll put on the fridge like you’re in grade school. You find it a little embarrassing but it really makes you feel like you’re making progress

📕🖊 Kiri brings your favorite snacks for study sessions so he can reward you for right answers and staying on task. You call it “childish” at first until he shrugs “Oh my bad we can try something els-” about to put them away. “Noooooo no those are my favorites.” You nearly jump over the table. Kiri has a shit eating grin the rest of the study session

📕🖊 When giving directions from the passenger seat both Kiri and Baku typically do a good job of remembering you need them to point left and right

📕🖊 If you’ve had long day in tutoring and homework and you guys are watching anime Bakugou will read the subs to you. Sometimes if he’s in a particularly good mood he might even imitate a voice or two

📕🖊 Kiri would politely let you ramble about one of your niche interests and will help you get back to your point when you get lost in a tangent

📕🖊 Don’t let these two hear you call yourself “dumb” or “stupid” Kiri will just act like he can’t comprehend what you’re saying like deadass “Pebs, speak English please. Nope not catching that, Babygirl. Did you say you were a smarticle particle? An intelligent ass motherfucker?! Oh, of course you are!” While Baku is more like “Sorry what was that? I thought I heard a very accomplished and creative thinking ass bitch say something? A incredibly capable ass bitch say something?A smart ass bitch say something?” Your only response is yes and then you get a forehead kiss

[hchollym]

If Rheagar was such a bad guy then why does most of westeros still think about him positively after the Rebellion?

This ended up being a long response, so I'm going to put a lot of it under the cut for length.

First of all, even if most of Westeros thought that Rhaegar was fantastic, that still wouldn’t mean that he actually was fantastic. Perception plays a huge role in politics, which is obvious from Sansa’s observation about Margaery and the Tyrells:

The smallfolk cheered them as well.

The same smallfolk who pulled me from my horse and would have killed me, if not for the Hound. Sansa had done nothing to make the commons hate her, no more than Margaery Tyrell had done to win their love.

Reality does not always equal perception, especially where the rich and powerful are concerned.

Second, there’s absolutely no evidence that most of Westeros thinks about Rhaegar positively. In fact, quite the opposite. The story that has been told across Westeros ever since Robert’s Rebellion is that Rhaegar kidnapped and raped Lyanna; that’s the story that Robert (as the new king) spreads, and it’s what most people believe, including children like Bran:

“Robert was betrothed to marry her, but Prince Rhaegar carried her off and raped her,” Bran explained. “Robert fought a war to win her back. He killed Rhaegar on the Trident with his hammer, but Lyanna died and he never got her back at all.”

That doesn’t sound too positive to me.

Third, it may seem like Rhaegar is viewed as mostly positive because of the POV trap. We only really get a few people’s outright opinions about Rhaegar (instead of vague or implied ones): Daenerys, Jorah, Ned, Bran, Barristan, Cersei, Jaime, Robert, and Jon Connington.

Of those, 2 of them (Bran and Robert) see Rhaegar negatively, 2 of them (Ned and Jaime) see him almost indifferently (I’ll talk about that later), and 5 of them (Daenerys, Jorah, Barristan, Cersei, and Jon Connington) see him positively. That seems like there is more good than bad, but you have to look at the context.

Daenerys certainly isn’t going to view her brother (that she never met but has heard tales about from Viserys) as a villain when she’s been told a very different story, and even if Jorah and Barristan didn't like Rhaegar, they would never tell Daenerys that. It’s also worth noting that Jorah traded slaves and Barristan was part of a Kingsguard which has seriously questionable morals, so I can’t say that I hold either of their opinions in high regards.

Jon Connington thinks of Rhaegar in a positive light because he was in love with him, but ironically enough, he barely knew him. That's obvious from the fact that he was more jealous of Elia’s relationship with Rhaegar than Lyanna’s, which would make no sense if he truly knew what transpired and what Rhaegar was thinking.

Cersei thinks of Rhaegar positively because Rhaegar is to her what Lyanna is to Robert – a fantasy of what could have been that serves as an escape from the awful reality. Robert has abused Cersei countless times, and she’s understandably unhappy with him. She didn’t even know Rhaegar, but she deludes herself into thinking that her life would have been better if she had married him:

If she had only married Rhaegar as the gods intended, he would never have looked twice at the wolf girl. Rhaegar would be our king today and I would be his queen, the mother of his sons.

This is just like the way Robert deludes himself into thinking that he would be happy if he married Lyanna. Neither of these ideas are based in reality.

There’s also an unrealistic perception of royalty that comes into play. Look at what happens to Cersei:

Cersei was soiled goods now, her power at an end. Every baker's boy and beggar in the city had seen her in her shame and every tart and tanner from Flea Bottom to Pisswater Bend had gazed upon her nakedness, their eager eyes crawling over her breasts and belly and woman's parts. No queen could expect to rule again after that. In gold and silk and emeralds Cersei had been a queen, the next thing to a goddess; naked, she was only human, an aging woman with stretch marks on her belly and teats that had begun to sag … as the shrews in the crowds had been glad to point out to their husbands and lovers.

The perception (as opposed to the reality) is what really sets the royal family apart, and Rhaegar certainly had an advantage in that regard: he was a handsome and intelligent prince and a talented jouster and swordsman. On paper, that sounds great, so for people who didn’t really know him (like Cersei and Jon), what’s not to love?

Also, compare that to Aerys (who was growing increasingly paranoid and delusional and even looked like he was going mad by refusing to cut his hair or nails) & Robert (who was an abusive, angry drunk). To people like Barristan, Rhaegar seemed like the lesser of all evils (though the bar is certainly set very low).

Now think about the two people who view Rhaegar almost indifferently: Jaime and Ned. With Jaime, I say it’s indifferent because his memories and thoughts about Rhaegar aren’t really based on his opinion about him; they are more about his guilt at failing to protect Rhaegar’s children, which I think he realistically would have felt regardless of how he felt about the prince. It’s no secret that Jaime hates Robert, but he doesn’t seem to particularly love Rhaegar either. He mostly just gives facts about him that are tainted by his youth and his guilt.

Ned’s opinion is what people usually point to as an excuse for Rhaegar “not being so bad” because if Ned doesn’t hate him, then surely he must not have been so awful 🙄 The irony of that is that Ned had a much greater opinion of Robert than he deserved (at first), but that certainly doesn’t mean that Robert was a saint. And he mostly just remembers facts about Rhaegar; the only “positive” thing he thinks is this:

There was no answer Ned Stark could give to that but a frown. For the first time in years, he found himself remembering Rhaegar Targaryen. He wondered if Rhaegar had frequented brothels; somehow he thought not.

If not frequenting brothels is the standard for being a great person, then his expectations are far too low.

I also think this is rooted in Ned’s misogyny. Even though Ned doesn’t think poorly of Lyanna (which he shouldn’t), he knows that she went with Rhaegar willingly, and because of that, he doesn’t seem to fault Rhaegar for the power imbalance as much as he should.

Since he doesn't think of Rhaegar as a rapist, that implies that he seems to just accept that this was a bad decision that Rhaegar and Lyanna made together that had domino effects. It's not as bad as some characters thinking that Lyanna “seduced” Rhaegar, but it still doesn't put the blame fully where it belongs (by acknowledging that Lyanna was still a child who Rhaegar took advantage of).

Ned clearly still loved Lyanna dearly, but I do think he didn’t understand her decision to run away with Rhaegar in the first place, and part of that is because his views about Robert didn't match up with hers (which was obvious when he assured her that Robert was a good man who was true and would love her with all his heart). Even though he told Robert that he didn’t see the iron underneath Lyanna’s beauty, he still somehow thinks that Robert loved her truly:

Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart. Robert had loved her even more. She was to have been his bride.

That’s one of the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read, and yet somehow Ned believes that. By the time he starts thinking about Rhaegar again, he’s finally seeing Robert more clearly, and because of that, he’s finally beginning to think about/understand why Lyanna made the decision that she did. So I personally think that Ned's thoughts about Rhaegar (above) have more to do with Lyanna than the prince.

This became way longer than I intended, and I feel like I went off on a few tangents (sorry), but to sum it up: Not everyone views Rhaegar positively, and even if they did, it doesn’t make him a good person. He left his wife and children to kidnap a girl that was still a child, locked said girl in a tower without access to her family while she was pregnant, and set into motion a war that killed so many innocent people. I don’t care how many people “liked” him in the books; Rhaegar was still a jerk.

[mmvalentine]

What Cardan Knows | Jurdan

Canon compliant I suppose, just more post-QoN nonsense. Smut aplenty.

Cardan knows a secret about Jude.

Knows she likes to be kissed right between the shoulder blades.

Knows that if you move your lips on the vertebra that sticks out at the base of her neck, she melts like chocolate in the summer sun.

Jude has spent today, like many days, sitting on her throne like she was born there. There is something so natural in the way that she rules the fae that never came quite so easy to Cardan. He feels more comfortable next to her now than he ever thought he would. Still. He does not think he relishes the power like Jude does.

And of course Jude looks spectacular while she does it. Cardan reclines in his own throne, throwing one leg over an armrest and letting his head fall back against the back. He watches Jude, straight backed and imperious, as she hands down stern judgement for a faerie who stole a human child. She had outlawed changelings since she has been Queen, and although the folk do not like it, they abide by her word.

Cardan finds it sexy that the court is still a little afraid of Jude. Cardan finds it sexy that this sharp and unyielding ruler is his alone to unravel. Later.

Jude does not like anyone to know that she can be tender. Even now, years after she’s gained the loyalty of her court, she avoids being vulnerable. Puts on her armour every morning to meet her subjects, her advisors, and even her sisters. Oak might be an exception. And Cardan, when he knows where to fit his myriad keys.

These are not things Jude has ever told him out loud. Not even to her husband would she confess the chinks in her armour aloud. But Cardan knows anyway. Knows the secret places she keeps her softness, and delights in uncovering them when they are alone in the safety of the dark of their bedroom. Only when she is sure no one is looking does she bare her underbelly to him and let him press toothy kisses there. Cardan loves when Jude is ruthless. Cardan loves when Jude is soft.

Now Jude is sending the faerie away and the fae dislike her changing the rules. But she hands out cruelty like treats in the throne room and so they still adore her. A good public punishing is as good as trading babies. There is a hard glint in Jude’s eye as she watches him go, and then she flicks her wrist and the revelry begins once again. It’s all so simple. She looks out at the crowd with a cold boredom on her face, but Cardan knows she’s riding a high from watching her own orders executed. He also knows it turns her on like nothing else.

And so Cardan pushes himself up off his bramble throne, leans over to his wife with his back to the court, and murmurs, “take your leave my Queen, for I have business with you elsewhere.”

Jude’s lip curls when she answers, and her voice trickles like ice water over his skin. “I do not attend your bidding my Lord, I would stay to see the end of the revel.”

“Nevertheless,” Cardan says, and his fingers slide down her wrist to read her telltale pulse. “I have business with you elsewhere.”

And although Jude does delight in denying her husband, she rarely denies herself. So she rises smoothly while Cardan watches with one eyebrow raised, and allows him to take her hand and lead her into the alcove behind the throne room.

Cardan shuts the door and the noise outside suddenly chokes off. He turns and Jude is staring at him with her chin up in her regal golden gown, and she is resplendent.

“Well?” She demands. “What is it you wish to discuss so urgently?”

“First,” Cardan purrs, “I mean this to be an informal meeting, since you and I are wed and need not stand on ceremony. Let me remove your formal attire.” He walks behind her and Jude’s head turns, but she doesn’t otherwise move. Cardan’s movements are careful as he removes the heavy crown from Jude’s head; he has had his fingers bitten for this before.

But Jude does not react, so he goes for the heavy collar of gold plates she wears, unhooking the clasp and lifting it carefully from her shoulders. Next is the fastening in the back of her bodice, and even as she is undressed Jude’s spine remains as straight as the sword at her hip.

There have been times where she fucks him just like that. With steel in her eyes and Cardan’s throat between her fingers, when she holds him down with her thighs and draws his rapture from his lips like she can summon his very soul.

But today Cardan wants to pull at Jude’s threads and unspool her at his feet. So he stands behind her, and kisses her like feathers in that secret spot of hers. In between her scapulae. Traveling up toward the bones of her neck. And infinitesimally, Jude’s shoulders loosen beneath his touch.

Cardan smiles against her skin as his fingers skim the outside edge of her bare arms, and she leans her head back toward him so his lips can better reach her throat. When her eyes slide closed, Cardan pulls the tie of her skirt and it pools around her feet. He lifts her out of it and by the time her weight is in his arms, Jude is pliant against his chest.

Cardan lays Jude down on the low couch, and in the moment between kisses where his tongue lifts off her skin and his teeth touch down elsewhere, he whispers honeyed pet-names to her. "Ruthless," he calls her sweetly. He moves down her belly. "Unscrupulous. Uncompromising. Without mercy. Immovable."

At the last, he curls his tongue in the apex of her thighs, and Jude lifts her hips to his mouth with a soft cry. She is not immovable, and he knows it. His tail wraps around her ankle as her leg tries to jerk upward, and holds it in place. Cardan moves lazily, breathes steadily against the Queen and relishes in her slow undoing.

"Cardan," she whispers, and he hums with his lips on her pussy.

In fact, the real secret that Cardan knows is that Jude is not any of the things he calls her, and despite the way fae crave wickedness like opium, it is the very heart of Jude that he loves the most.

"Will you punish me, too?" Cardan asks her. His face moves up her body but one of his fingers replace his tongue inside her and Jude is not able to answer him. "If I confess my sins to you will you hand down my own judgement?"

"Did you steal any children away?" Jude manages to ask him, but her breathing is coming in short pants and her voice is strained.

"No," Cardan laments. "Although I think I would enjoy having a pet."

Jude's eyes flash, but Cardan makes one finger two and her words don't make it out.

"My sins," Cardan tells her, and then leans close to admit it in her ear while his hand speeds up between her legs. "are so numerous as to be unforgivable." He even sounds a little sad, and Jude's eyes open.

"There is always mercy," she breathes.

"Then forgive me, my saint," Cardan says, and then twists his fingers and presses down on her clit at the same time, so Jude climaxes suddenly and unexpectedly. Her lovely brown eyes widen in surprise and her lips part in bliss, and before she has come all the way down Cardan removes his fingers and slides his cock into her even as she shudders and spasms.

Cardan barely moves before Jude is coming again, and the waves of it around him are exquisitely divine. He moans his pleasure as he sinks into her again and again, and revels in the Queen laid bare. His hips kiss hers and it is in this space he finds his absolution daily. For as hard and uncaring as Jude is not, so is Cardan secretly not so unaffected or shameless as he makes out to be.

And as Jude wraps her legs around his waist, and her hands around the back of his neck pull his forehead down to hers, he wonders if this is what Jude knows, too.

Cardan moves his lips against Jude's neck and the increasingly irregular rhythm of his hips matches the erratic beating of his heart, and when Jude's teeth bite into his throat as if to suckle at his lifeblood, he comes hard buried deep inside her.

Minutes later, the King and Queen of Elfhame are still tangled together on the couch. Jude's head is on Cardan's chest and he has the sharp claw tip of a fingernail circling against her shoulder. A faint bruise is blooming on his throat, and the tip of his tail is brushing against her elbow.

"Shall we return you to the revel, my love?" Cardan asks her. Jude looks at him, then stands fluidly and holds her chin up and her arms out.

"Dress me, husband," she commands, and Cardan picks up her clothes off the floor and puts everything back on. Piece by piece, layer by layer, fingers meticulous. Pinning her hair and fastening the scabbard by her waist. Jude is still like a mannequin, and when he is done she lowers her arms and sweeps out of the room without a backward glance.

Cardan straightens his own clothes, plonks his crown back on his head and then saunters back out to the thrown room. Jude is already being offered a selection of the fattest, sweetest grapes and she spears them with a fine dagger before she puts them to her kiss-swollen lips. And when she drags the knife point back out of her mouth, he doesn't know whether he'd rather be the blade or the fruit.

Either way, he is more than content to spend the rest of the night watching Jude rule the fae with an iron fist, as his kisses fade on her skin.

****

Sorry that was so curly! When I started writing Jurdan I just thought I would write these snarly, snappy creatures but it turns out I'm just a sucker for them shedding their skins when they're alone. Also, I planned on writing hardcore smut and all that came out was... intense feels? What is happening?

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish

*NOTE* I have two entirely separate masterlists/ taglists for my feysand and jurdan stuff!! Hope this makes it all easy to navigate!

[fightxxmexxshiggy]

I don't know if you write for Aizawa but I could use some good Aizawa smut. He doesn't often have good smut🖤🙏🏽💛

So sorry this took so long this went from a headcanon to a full fic before I knew what happened.

The beast tames a brat

You decide to get revenge on your boyfriend only for it to backfire.

Shota aizawa x female reader

TW: degradation, OVERSTIMULATION, slight PREDATOR KINK, fucked stupid.

Word count 1477.

You were definitely in a mood today. You had been restless and horny all morning and when you texted your boyfriend to ask when he'd be home he had given you a one word response of "eventually". This was not a good idea on his part as you immediately started planning your retaliation. After a quick shower you started your plan. You took pictures in your towel, took pictures of you slowly slipping it off frame by frame but never letting the full sight of your breasts or pussy be in the shots. You put on makeup and pulled out some of your favorite lingerie. 3 absolutely mouth watering peices that had never failed to have shota pushing you against the nearest hard surface. It took about an hour but you completed the most sexy solo photo shoot that you had ever done. You made sure to include a variety of toys and positions that would have shota losing his damn mind.

Once it was around the time the school broke for lunch you started sending your pictures to his phone. The first one received no response, just the icon showing he had seen it. So you sent the next one, each picture was sent 20 minutes after the last as you tried to give him time to respond. He never did so when you ran out of the sexy yet tame pictures you sent one of the most naughty ones you had taken. Within 5 minutes he was calling you. You let it go to voice mail before sending another picture even more naughty than the first. He called again and this time you picked up. You didn't even get a chance to say hello before his deep, frustrated voice came through the speaker.

"Princess when I get home you better be ready for your punishment. If you wanna act like a slutty bitch then I'm going to treat you like one. Your gonna remember not to fuck with me even if I have to spend all night reminding you why."

He hung up the phone while you were still in a daze. You were definitely gonna get the raw fuck you were craving tonight. You thought for a moment and smiled, you still had some more pictures including the one you had take with your ass spread showing the plug in your and the dildo stuffing your pussy. So being the brat you were you sent it giggling at how shota was definitely going to get you for that. You ended up not having to wait very long for him to get you as an hour later he came home. Shota stalked through the apartment like a beast, throwing off his clothes as he went. You looked up at him as he came into the bedroom more than a little shocked to see him so early. The corners of his mouth turned up in a cruel almost sadistic manner that you really didn't want to call a smile.

"What's the matter princess? Afraid of the consequences for teasing your man?"

He launched himself on the bed grabbing your ankle as you made to scramble off the bed. Pulling you back towards him with one hand he caught the front of the black lace lingerie set you had yet to change out of, using only two fingers he tore it right down the middle leaving you bare except for the tattered scraps. Keeping his hold on your ankle he rubbed his thumb against the pulse point he found there before trailing slow kisses down your leg. When he reached your inner thigh he paused staring up at you until you locked eye's. Once he knew you wouldn't look away he kissed your thigh gently, slowly sucking on your dampening skin. Then he grinned and bit down making you whimper and buck at the slight pain. You whined his name as he moved on to your pussy,kissing all around your lips without ever touching where you really needed him. Reaching down you grabbed his hair as you begged him to touch you properly. Relief swept through you as he made to do just that. It was short lived though as shota took that chance to begin mercilessly fucking your needy hole with his tongue. The pleasure was intense enough to have you panting and pulling on his hair, but it wasn't enough to make you cum. Over the next hour no matter how much you begged, pleaded, and threatened him he just continued to keep you on the edge of release.

" I told you baby your gonna remember why you shouldn't fuck with me. I already called your boss on my way over your not working tomorrow. Not that you could with the jelly legs I'm going to give you."

Whimpering you desperately tried to wiggle out of his grasp more than a little regretful of your bratty actions from the afternoon. Shota decided to give you a little taste of what the rest of the night would be like when he locked both his arms around your thighs and sucked your clit into his mouth. You didn't even last a full minute before you were coming against his lips. But he didn't stop, he kept sucking your clit. Shota had latched on to your clit, sucking hard until he got what he was working for. You came for a second time in less than five minutes squirting all over his face with a squeal. He drank and licked your squirt, making sure to get his fill. Sitting up shota flipped you to your back while you still panted and twitched form the overstimulation. Kneeling behind you he pulled your hips back to rest on his thighs. Adjusting his grip on your hips shota chuckled darkly.

" I hope your ready princess because your kings about to give you everything you were begging for. I'm going to fuck the brat right out of this slutty little cunt."

With precision that no man should have he began ramming his cock inside your still twitching hole. His every thrust was angled to hit your gspot, he continued to hammer it as he fucked you with only six or so inches of his thick cock. You were so fucked out already that all you could do was lay there moaning and mumbling gibberish. Shota continued his pace relentlessly his mind sinking into a feral place where his only thought was to pull as many orgasms from you as he could. Growling as his release came closer shota finally gave up on his torturous game to instead fuck you like the beast he truly was at his core. Griping your thighs tighter he pounded all his ten and a half inches of cock into your already over stretched pussy. Your back was arched as you sobbed out your pleasure, shota's heavy thrusts keeping you in a constant state of orgasm with no end insight. This was what you had been wanting, what you had been needing. To be taken animalisticly by your man, your king, your unchained beast. Seconds turned to minutes as shota finally let himself go, shoving his cock head flush with your already bruised cervix he let out a primal shout as he came. At his core the man who called himself your king was cunning beast, but one that loved and lusted after you unconditionally. The sound set something off inside of you that made you want to find a way to submit to him even more than you already had. The heat of his cum set you of into your final orgasm. You screamed, your eyes rolling back in your head while your pussy milked his cock for every drop almost as if it was trying to suck his seed into your womb. Pulling out of you shota grabbed your phone off the bedside table and turned on the camera, recording a few seconds of your hole gapping open, grasping at nothing before his cum slowly started to leak from it. He let a little drip out , catching on your clit before pushing it back inside of you.

" you did so good for me baby. I know your gonna do even better on our next round. I need that tight little hole milking me again already."

You sighed as he placed sweet kisses down your back. The little part of your brain that was still functioning knew what you were doing when you sent those pictures for sure but from the looks of it you might need to be a little more patient and less brash the next time you teasing your beastly king. But for now you were gonna nap while he kissed and massaged your spent body. You had more rounds of fucking coming and you really did wanna be good for your king tonight.

[side-writes-fanfics]

Late-night talks || One-shot

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader

Word count: ≈2000

Genre: it was supposed to be angst but it's really just fluff

Tw: Sukuna is kinda ooc, ngl

Summary: usually, you'd talk to Yuuji during the nights you felt restless but today, it was very much different. One night started a habit that definitely shouldn't have started.

Feel free to leave a or two or more request in my asks!

Masterpost | Asks/Requests

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

(Y/N) walked down the long dormitory halls, her insomniac brain refused to allow her to rest after the hard day she’d had. On one hand, it was fantastic, filled with thrill and learning opportunities! On the other, however, the girl had gone through so much intense training and failure that she wanted nothing more than a good night's sleep. And yet, the thoughts in her head flew and a high speed and there was no way in hell that they would stop any time soon. So, as any sane person would do, instead of reading a book or being productive and taking the time to practise some techniques that wouldn’t blow the entire room up, (Y/N) decided to knock on Itadori’s room door and mess his sleep up as well.

Her hands made contact with the wood once. Then quickly twice. Then three times before the door opened to reveal the figure she had been anticipating. Only something seemed a little off. While she wasn’t thinking Itadori would be wearing a shirt as it is the middle of the damn night, the markings on his entire body suggested that it wasn’t Itadori who stood in front of her. Rather, Sukuna had taken over his body for the night and wasn’t planning on leaving the boy alone.

��You really want him to be dead tomorrow, huh?” (Y/N) whispered to the curse, chuckling at the thought of Yuuji not being able to hold his eyes open for long enough to get out of bed, let alone all the “fun” activities Gojo said he had planned for us. Now, you might be wondering why the absolute fuck were you not shaking in your boots at that very moment? I mean, you’re talking to the King of Curses, the man himself. This guy could probably snap you in half with one movement if he wanted to. Well, for one, you had no boots to shake in as you were walking in the stupidest pair of slippers money could buy. Secondly, Sukuna was well aware that if he hurt you, or any of the students of Jujutsu High for that matter, his life would be cut much shorter by the president of the school without any hesitation. Even Gojo couldn’t do anything about it because he cared for you just as much as Itadori. He cared for all of the students the same, no matter how much others thought Yuuji was the only one who got his love. (Y/N), of course, knew this and took advantage of it as much as she could, without pushing the limits and getting herself into danger.

“You’re the one talking, pipsqueak,” Sukuna said, shooting the girl an unamused glare. “Coming in the middle of the night to wake up this brat isn’t much better than what I’m doing.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, walking past the curse and into Itadori’s room. Sukuna stared at her confused but before he could continue further, (Y/N) cut him off.

“Get in the room and close the door. If Gojo catches me out of my room at this ungodly hour of the night, I’m gonna be dead and if you get caught with me, it isn’t going to be taken lightly by the higher-ups.” The girl made her way over to the bed, making herself comfortable while Sukuna listened to her orders, even though he didn’t want to.

“That sounds like you’re the one who causes all the trouble here and not me.”

(Y/N) smirked, letting out a little chuckle. “And yet, I don’t care about that much.” She propped herself up, now in a sitting position. Sukuna rolled his eyes at her, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

The two stared at each other in silence. What were you even expecting? Neither of them was used to being in each other’s presence. They barely interacted due to reasons outside of their control. (Y/N) went on missions a lot, barely spending any time in the presence of Itadori. When she did have time to hang out, Sukuna never actually spoke or came out and showed his presence. Sukuna didn’t want to talk because he did enjoy the company and anything he wanted to say at first would have just made her leave. (Y/N) didn’t want to speak up because of her poor social skills. Everything she knew about socialisation, which wasn’t that much, had been thrown out the window by the lack of contact she had with other people. To be frank, even if they sat in silence (Y/N) would have sat there until the moment she was tired. It was better than being alone in her room staring at the ceiling.

“Why’d you even come here in the middle of the night?” Sukuna spoke up, not wanting to leave the room silent. Unlike (Y/N), he hated the silence. He could not take it. When the curse was on his own, whether it be in the form of Itadori or inside of his domain, Sukuna didn’t mind it. He was left alone to his own devices and was able to do as he pleased, but being around another person in complete silence drove him crazy.

“Uh… I couldn’t sleep.” her body positioned herself in a sitting fetal position, resting her head on the top of her knees. “Yuuji lets me come to his room when that happens and we just chat about random things until I feel tired.” Both of them stared at each other, waiting for who was going to speak next. It was hard to keep the conversation going as of now, both of the participants carefully thought about their words as to not upset the other. Still, (Y/N) said something to fill the silence: “What about you? Why are you in control of Yuuji’s body?”

“I felt like it.”

(Y/N) blinked at him, not believing her ears. “That’s… that’s it?” she said in disbelief.

“Are you not satisfied with that answer, pipsqueak?” The man crossed his arms and lifted a brow. The girl crossed her arms as well, pushing her back against the wall behind her. She contemplated once more all the choices she could make at this moment, though, to an outside view, (Y/N) looked as if she was scared to say anything at all. Sukuna’s chuckle broke her out of her contemplative daze. “It’s boring inside of where I am for days upon days upon days. Sometimes I need to feel alive, even if it’s just switching with this brat and walking around his room.”

The girl let out a ‘hm’ sound, nodding to indicate she understood his reasons. Slowly, the two began having normal...ish conversations without the awkward pauses between topic and sentences. They began to slow as if they’ve been long term friends with natural progression. And as all natural progression goes, this became a regular thing. (Y/N) couldn’t sleep more often, Sukuna wanted to walk around the world more often, them talking happened more often. Though, these little meetings in the middle of the night that consisted of senseless trains of thought being put into words stayed secret between just the two of them. Not even Itadori knew that (Y/N) snuck into his room as often as she did. Yuuji knew and welcomed her coming to his room to speak to him when she needed company. There were times where she snuck in and Itadori was in his own body. The girl hated to admit it but she felt sad when she couldn’t speak to the curse inside his body. Indeed, she should have felt ashamed but something just didn’t let her. (Y/N) liked Sukuna’s company. Even with the… talks about not so good things he’s done that were bound to come up at some points in time.

There came a day where (Y/N) realised it. Realised that she, as a jujutsu sorcerer, shouldn’t feel the way she feels about him. He's done so much wrong. Why does it not bother her that much? She stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts haunted her throughout the day, not letting a moment pass without her thinking about it. It was obvious she wasn’t going to sleep tonight. Leaving to go talk to the curse, however, seemed to be a tiny bit paradoxical. Her worries were caused by him. She didn’t want to end the friendship they had built. Then again, was this really for the best? Were the talks really a smart idea? Was continuing to see him and forming an emotional bond going to bring anything but pain and sorrow?

Knock, knock, knock.

‘Who could be knocking on her door at 3 in the bloody morning?’ the girl thought to herself, getting up to answer the door. As soon as she opened it, she mentally slapped herself for being stupid. I mean who else could have it been other than the curse himself.

“I see you’re awake,” he said, “though, you decided not to come and talk to me.” A brow lifted on (Y/N)’s face.

“And you decided to come to me instead, huh?” she smirked at the man, moving to give him space to enter the room. “Have you started caring about me? Have you softened up to little old me?” she poked and teased him, trying to forget what she’d been thinking about moments before. Sukuna entered, only to stop in the middle of the room.

“I need to talk to you about something…” her heart stopped. ‘Shit shit shit and shit.’ her thoughts became quicker and her heart raced as if it were running a marathon she was not ready for. Why would she have said what she said? Was it that she got too comfortable around him. “What you said… about me caring about you…” he paused, trying to find the words to say. (Y/N) looked at him turned away from her, anticipating his next words. “It’s true… I am softer towards you than anyone else. In these past two months you... You’ve made your way to my heart. You make me feel. You make me feel,” he said quietly, fiercely, making (Y/N)’s heart skip a beat or two. He turned towards her, his face more serious than you’d want it to be in this moment. “and I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

(Y/N) blinked. Absolutely taken aback at his words. “I’m sorry, what?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He confessed that he cared about her. That she made him feel a certain way. And yet somehow he’s rejecting her? Nothing makes sense. She didn’t even confess to him and she feels hurt. “I… don’t-”

“Why do I feel like this?” Sukuna cut her off and stared at her, hoping she would solve the problem with a few simple words.

“I- I don’t know why you feel like you do!” she squeaked out, still unsure what was happening, “I mean I don’t even know how you feel.”

“I don’t know either.” (Y/N) paused, lifting her hand towards his. Her eyes flicked towards his, silently asking permission to hold his hand. He squinted at her. For a man who claims to be a genius and has years and years of life experience, his social skills seemed to be lacking when we’re talking about kindness. The girl kept quiet, putting her hand closer. It gently touched his, sending a clearer message of what it was she wanted. Sukuna let out a slight ‘oh’, before embracing her hand into his. Her heart skipped a beat again. She cursed herself silently, understanding that she was feeling the same way as he was.

“What are we going to do, pipsqueak?” Sukuna asked her, confused out of his mind. It was rare that anyone saw him as bewildered as he was right now.

“We’ll… figure it out I guess…” a smile tugged at (Y/N)’s lips. It was terrifying, there’s a lot in their way and a lot of things they have to set straight, but for now, this seemed to be the most they could do.

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

[yaneyanedaze]

Our Goddess In Love and War

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Yandere! Royal! Pillarmen x Reader

Summary: Reader-Darling is a girl that lives in a village close to the kingdom ruled by the three kings: Esidisi, Whamuu and Kars. She doesn’t see what everyone else sees in them, and keeps away, but one day, she’ll catch their eyes, and they won’t ever leave her.

Warnings: smut later on in this chapter, yandere behavior, obsession, possessiveness, death, mentions of torture, jealously, Kars puts his foot down with disrespectful maids, reader-chan tries to leave because of threats.

A/n: I apologize for how long this took, But i’m glad to be back writing my big series! I hope you guys enjoy this long awaited chapter update!

(Unrelated but i was listening to Montero by Lil Nas X while writing this, and It was giving me Mad Kars vibes lol but I’m gonna put my playlist for this story at the bottom)

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I sighed and plopped down onto my comfy bed and slipped out of the dress and heels, I didn’t care about my hair, I’d just get up and wash in the morning. I snuggled into my pillow, at first I didn’t want to do any of this, but now I can’t help but feel  some type of attraction to the male. I mean he’s going to officially be my husband in a few days, but I still couldn’t shake this feeling that something was wrong..

….And something bad was gonna happen….

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(First Pov)

I was nervous.

I was dressed in a wonderful purple dress, a slit along the side, matching golden heels on my feet. Several maids were running around my room, preparing everything for me. My hair was styled and had many pieces of golden jewelry dangling off my body, I smiled at myself in the mirror. 

“I can’t believe this is happening…” 

A few giggles were heard around me, one maid with blonde hair and baby blue eyes smiled at me. Her name is Liza, she was the maid in charge of making sure that I was perfect for events like this. She was the only other person in charge of my dress besides Stella. Liza speaks up as she places the finishing touches on me,

“Oh Believe it My Queen, We can tell how much his majesty loves you, so we are happy!” She says, giving me a twirl as the other maids clapped. I nod smiling along with the women before a rapid knock was heard at the door. All of us turned towards the door and let out a sigh as it was only Stella at the door. Stella gives a sheepish smile as she walks in.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but his majesty is asking for his Queen.” She says. Liza and the other maids nod, picking up the end of my dress, I began walking out the door with the girls following close behind me.

As we walked down the hallways, they were decorated with (f/c) flowers, gold and various other precious metals aligned the hall we walked down. I could hear the hustle and bustle of the people outside, nervousness creeping right back up on me. I took a deep breath as two guards opened the door revealing me to the outside world. 

Many cheers were heard, so many people were screaming and yelling. I winced at the bright light, a deep chuckle came from behind me, arms wrapping around my waist. I tensed up a bit, only earning a laugh. “My love there is no need to be afraid, it is just me..” 

I sigh and relax a bit, Kars felt strangely warm and comfortable, i felt his hands move down to my hips as he moves us both forward.

We stood on top of the stairs, both of us waving to the crowd, I giggle at some of the kids that I met in the village yelling to me and holding up signs that said. ‘We are best friends with the Queen’. Kars stepped away from me slightly, and I let out a soft whine before I knew it, I blushed, quite embarrassed but Kars just chuckled again.

“Save your whines for tonight my love, Because I’ll have you saying and thinking nothing but my name.” He whispered in my ear before stepping away to get the crown.

My face went completely red as I tried to regain my composure, I walked down the stairs to greet some of the townspeople. Smiling as a group of kids handed me a pretty bouquet of flowers, “Why thank you all.”

 “Your welcome Miss (y/n)!”  “Will we be able to visit you in the castle?” “Is the king nice?” “Are you gonna have kids of your own?” I laughed at the many questions they asked before getting taken away and scolded lightly by their parents.

“(y/n)!!” “Oh my baby you look wonderful!”

I looked up and had a half smile, My mother and sister walked up to me, both of them with tears in their eyes. I rolled my eyes but took both of them into my arms, allowing some tears down my face. Though I still held some anger towards my mom for just giving me up, but I couldn’t help myself, I was glad to have her in my arms.

“My love, Please come up here, It is time.”

I stand up and turn to walk back up, seeing Kars with the same beautiful crown that I saw when I first arrives, the jewel dangling beautifully from it. A smile graced my lips as I stood right infront Kars, I felt a feeling of Joy in my body, the fear that I had when I first came was slowly going away. Kars returned the look as he turned to face the crowd.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, We are gathered here today to celebrate the arrival of my Beautiful, Wonderful and Lovely Queen.” Kars started, I nod along, watching his every movement, He was beautiful, an absolute masterpiece. I still wondered what he would want with a half baked potato like me. I was pulled out of my trance by a weight on my head, realizing he had placed the crown on top of my head. He looked down at me with a look that I’ve never seen before on him, Care, Love, like he genuinely loved me. He then turned back to the crowd pulling me close to him.

“I do hope that you all will continue to watch over us, and grow alongside us.” He spoke before placing a hand underneath my chin. He lifts it slightly before leaning down to capture my lips in a soft, loving kiss, I was shocked, but only for a bit. I soon wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. This must’ve surprised him because he pulled away slightly and whispered. “Oh you little minx~ Just wait until we get behind closed doors..” He placed another quick kiss on my lips before backing away and waving to the cheering crowd. He placed a hand on my lower back as I raised my hand to wave as well, seeing many of the crowd was moved to tears.

I guess seeing one of their own go from literally rags to riches is enough to get anyone crying.

Kars led me back inside, humming to himself softly, his hand firmly placed on my hip. “Kars..may I ask a question?” I ask, making the male let out a soft laugh. “My love, You just did.. But go ahead” He teased, making me puff out my cheeks in tiny annoyance. I sighed and went ahead with asking my question. “Um..Is it okay if my Mom and Sister come and live with us?”

Kars stopped walking, I thought it was because of what I said, but sighed with relief when he was just opening his room, well our room door. He ushered me inside and closed the door behind him. “Of course they can, My Darling…” He started, locking the door, pulling it to make sure it was secured. “But that’s not what I’m worried about right now.” He purrs, a sultry undertone in his voice. I could feel another blush coming on, I went to sit on the bed and just flopped on my back. I let out a groan of satisfaction as to how soft his bed was, making Kars let out a low growl, one that sent shivers down my spine.

“You do not know how hard it was for me to not take you where we stood.”

I let out a squeak as the male was now on top of me, I didn’t notice that he had moved from his place by the door. He placed his face in the crook of my neck as he kept me pinned down, strong hands holding mine against the bed. He let out another low growl as he continued. “It took everything in me to not take you in front of the crowd, Letting them all know that you belong to me now.” He finished, placing kisses on the side of my neck. I could only let out a sigh of content as his kisses moved lower. I watched as he hovered over my chest, which was still covered by the fabric of the dress. He sat up and smirked, I looked at him confused before in one movement he ripped the dress. Going up from the slit until it reached my chest, he then removed the torn fabric from my body, chuckling at my reaction to the coldness of the room.

“I’ll buy you another one, my love, but right now, I need you more than ever.” He said, he then lifted my legs up onto his shoulder, earning another noise of shock from me. He let out another groan of annoyance before ripping my panties from my body. I shuddered at the new cold, but before I could comment, I let out a loud moan. Kars smirked before giving another long teasing lick “Don’t worry about me tonight. It’s all about you Darling, but after tonight, I will not hold back.” He says before he started to tongue fuck me. A completely new feeling that already having me seeing stars and it did not help that Kars was unrelenting either.

He pulled back a bit licking the slick that was left on his lips off before rubbing two fingers against my folds. He looked at me as if asking for permission, and when I gave him a soft nod he smirked once more, slowly pushing two of his fingers into me. He groaned at the sounds that I was making, he picked up the pace quickly, barely giving me anytime to adjust.

“K-kars..” I moaned out, my hands gripping the smooth silk sheets below me. He hummed in response, glancing back over to me. “Hmm? What is it, my love?” He asked teasingly as he increased the speed of his digits, I squirmed underneath him as I struggled to find the words to say. “D-don’t..” I managed to moan, feeling a knot building up, I was close and he seemed to know it. “Say it my love, I know you are enjoying this so much, the way you are clenching around just my fingers. It makes me wonder how you’ll take my cock~” My body automatically reacted to his teasing words, my hips bucking against his fingers, his pace brutal now. “D-don’t hold back..” I couldn’t even believe what I was saying just now. I’ve only had sex once before and it was clumsly to say the least, so for me to practically beg the King not to hold back was surprising.

He must’ve been surprised too because began chuckling before full on laughing, he removed his fingers causing me to let out a whine. 

“My Darling woman, are you sure?” He asked as he stood up off of the bed. I nodded, my head cloudy, still whining from feeling empty. Kars quietly removed his bottoms, kicking them somewhere off to the side of the room, he pull me by my legs to the end of the bed.

I looked at his face, and a different expression was there. Lust. Eyes clouded over as he looked over my body. He teasingly pressed himself up against my folds and I gasped. Looking down this man was probably 9.5 inches with about a 1.5 girth, ‘How in the hell is that supposed to fit in me?!’ I thought.

Kars chuckled at the expression on my face. “I know, i know my love, I’m going to take my time so you can get adjusted.” He says, slowly guiding himself inside me. Just from his head, I already felt like he wouldn’t fit, but as he slowly inched more and more inside, he stretched me out wonderfully. Once he was fully inside of me, he gave a slow experimental thrust, pulling almost all the way out before snapping his hips back. I cried out in pain and pleasure, he set a slow pace, everytime, he snapped his hips in just the right way to hit that spot. The pain was fading fast, and I wanted more than this slow pace he had.

“Kars..Please just fuck me…”

My words must’ve made him snap, soon after those words left my lips he began thrusting at a more violent and fast pace, making me cry out in pleasure. His name was falling off my lips like a mantra, He was hitting just the right spot everytime. I managed to look up at him, his eyes were half open, jaw locked as he let some groans and grunts. One thrust had me seeing stars, I did not care how loud i was being at this point and I’m pretty sure any servant that walked by could hear.

One of Kars hands slowly snaked its was up to my neck and gave it a slight squeeze. “Tell me who’s fucking you this good, Tell me darling.” He growled out. I moaned out his name loud, practically screaming it at this point. He smirked “Louder. I want them to know who you belong to (y/n)”

“You Kars!”

 “Louder!”

 “KARS!” 

I cried out feeling that familiar knot unraveling, I could feel myself clenching around his cock, making him curse and growl.

 “That’s it..That’s it..You’re mine, No one else's..”

 He moans out, feeling his thrust start to get sloppy until that came to a complete halt and he was spilling his seed into me. He stayed in place until he finished before slowly pulling out. He moved to lay beside me and pull me into his chest. I turned to give him a kiss but he just held me in place. “Shh..My Love, You’re tired..Let's just rest, Tomorrow you can relax all day and I’ll have someone come check in on you.” He mumbled, running his hand through my hair, I hummed in response, feeling sleep starting to creep up on me.

“I love you Kars..” I mutter, feeling my eyes getting heavy, I hear him chuckle and place a kiss on my forehead. 

“I love you too My Darling~...”

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When I awoke,it was still dark outside.

I was dressed in a nightgown and Kars was gone, I yawned softly and got up out of bed. I nearly fell because the feeling in my legs was barely there, I blushed remembering the activities. I slowly made my way to the door only to have someone else open the door. 

“Ah Good Hello Stell-”

“Don’t you Hello me you whore.”

I was taken back by her words and angry expression. “Excuse me?” I was confused. She let out a yell of frustration. “It’s your fault! You are the reason I am not Queen! A common bitch like you!” She barked. I was hurt, I thought of Stella as a nice woman, but now she’s showing a totally different side of herself. I moved to push past her and head out the door but her words made me stop.

“Hell You’re just gonna be like the other girl before you!”

I stopped and turned to face her. “Say what?” She laughed at me before crossing her arms. “You thought you were picked out because they thought you were interesting? No, It’s because you look like Kar’s previous wife. He killed her. He only wants someone who is powerful enough to use the stone thats on the crown.” She saunters her way over to my crown and holds it in her hands. “You’re just going to be another dead body.”

I stood horrified, Mom told me that the previous Queen had died of illness, not that she was killed by Kars. “No..No He wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me.” Stella lets out another loud laugh before looking at me with a deadpan look. “He told me that too. He told me he loves me and that I’m special. I was going to be queen if it wasn’t for you.” She growled, marching forward, “So why don’t you do me a favor and run away. Run far from here..So that My King, no my Husband would have to dirty his hand with more blood” She said.

 I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and I ran out of the room, hearing her evil cackles from the room.

I went up to several maids and butlers to ask where Kars and the other kings were, but even they would not talk to me. I could feel even more tears run down my face as I ran through the halls, I burst open a door feeling the coldness of the outside and run down the stairs.

 At the bottom of the stairs stood Kars himself talking to a guard. I turned to take another way around the castle, an exit that I saw earlier when I first arrived. It was cold,I was freezing, but I couldn’t not bring myself to look Kars in the face anymore. What if I was just another body? What if he’ll ditch me and get another woman? Hell, if Stella said was true, was he just using me?

So many thoughts were running through my head, I didn’t even notice that I had bumped into someone. “I’m s-sorry..”

“My Queen, what are you doing out?” It was Esidisi, I gasped and began crying even more as I dropped to my knees. “He doesn’t love me Esi! He..He is..Just using me..” I cried out, my cries loud and echoing off the outside walls. Multiple footsteps could be heard running up to us.”My Darling?” I hear Kars call out, I continue to cry, I should have known that royalty like him wouldn’t love a commoner like me. I might as well give up the crown and just go home.

I could feel someone pick me up and hold me bridal style in their arms. “Esidisi. What is she doing out here?” “I don’t know, She ran into me crying about how you do not truly love her and you are using her.” I heard Kars suck in breath and hold me even tighter. “Who said this to you?” He asked me. I shook my head and kept crying, he shushed me and carried me back inside.

He holds me in his arms continuously telling me how much he loved me and to not listen to those rumors. When he entered the main ballroom where most maids were cleaning. “Excuse me. Who in the world told my Queen that I don’t love her?” he barked. I wiped my eyes, watching as each and everyone of the servants who gave me the cold shoulder. Kars sucked his teeth before moving to carry me like i was a child so he could have a free hand. He gripped one maid by her hair, making her let out an ear piercing scream. “I said tell me.”

“AH One of the Head maids your majesty!! She started spreading rumors, but Stella tried to stop her but she kept going.” I rolled my eyes knowing this fully to be a lie. Kars threw her across the room with his brute strength. “Oh you’ll receive a proper punishment soon. But now I have to deal with my Queen.” He said coldly, moving back to holding me with two arms. I lay my head comfortable on Kars shoulder, my cheeks stained with tears as I ended up falling back asleep in his arms.

“My Queen, don’t you worry..I will find out who did this to you..who lied on my name and made you feel unworthy of my love.”

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To say he was pissed was an understatement. Kars had laid (y/n) back in their shared bed, he then charged in the servant quarters scaring all of them.

Those servants wished that they would have spoken up, or comforted the queen in that moment, they suffered severe beatings, threats and some of them were even sent to the dungeon. 

All while Stella Listened and laughed.

“One step closer...Just one step closer.”

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I hope you enjoyed this chapter! 

My playlist for this entire story is 

Montero By Lil Nas X

Alejandro and Bad Romance by Lady Gaga

Streets By Doja Cat

Paparazzi: Kim Dracula

What songs does this story make you think of?

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[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Like mother, like daughter

Word count: 1568

Genre: Angst but happy end

Pairing: Agatha x (adoptive) daughter!reader

Warnings: Cursing (let me know if I need to add any)

Request: I have a request for an Agatha Harkness x daughter!reader if that's okay? Basically Agatha is trying to help Reader with her magic, but something goes wrong and Agatha gets mad about it. Reader gets emotional and runs away. Agatha realizes her mistake, and how similar her actions had been to her own mothers, and goes to find Reader, maybe at the local park, possibly finding her asleep. Agatha then takes reader home and she swears not to be anything like her mother when it came to raising reader. As she fears it can lead her to possibly losing them.

Summary: Agatha loses her temper at you so you run off for alone time while she realizes how badly she messed up.

A/n: Thanks anon for this request, it was really cool! I wrote most of this late at night though so hopefully it doesn’t have too many mistakes and isn’t too bad. Okay I hope you all enjoy!

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?” Agatha screams at you, dragging you inside the house by your arm.

“It was an accident!” you tell her, trying not to cry.

“An accident that can not happen!” she yells. “What is wrong with you, I taught you better than this.”

A sob breaks free from your lips. “Please, Agatha, mum, please I’m sorry.”

“Don’t call me that right now.” she says sharply.

“Mum?” you ask, softly, not sure that’s what she meant.

“Not right now, I can’t handle that.”

“I’m sorry, it will never happen again!” you promise, tears starting to run down your face.

“I don’t care about that,” she tells you, “you’ve already messed up and almost completely blew our cover here in Westview. Do you understand how big of a deal that is? You should be able to control your powers by now, you are not a child.”

“I know, I’m-”

“If I hear you say sorry one more time I’m going to make sure you can’t speak for the rest of the week.” she interrupts. “Go to your room, I need time to fix your mistake.”

“But-”

“Go to your room Y/n.”

You nod meekly and turn to leave the room. You’ve never seen her so angry before, never directed at you at least. You know you messed up and lost control of your magic but it was an accident, you thought she would be annoyed for sure but you assumed that she would try to help you, not yell. Evidently you were wrong though.

As soon as you get to your room you throw yourself on the bed and curl into a ball, wrapping your arms around your body as tightly as you can. Everything she said hurts but her not allowing you to call her mum is the one that hurts the most. Because you can sort of understand why she’s mad because you did mess up but you didn’t think that calling her mum was conditional. She had always been there for you, ever since your birth parents had died when you were barely old enough to remember and you consider her your mum, even if it isn’t anything official.

You sob at the thought of her hating you now. The entire house seems to suffocate you with her magic, unnoticeable to a regular human but unbearable to you. It reeks of disappointment and you watch from the widow as she swirls her magic around, cleaning up the mess you made and keeping the citizens of the town far away. You don’t understand why protecting this town is so important to her but she’s made it clear that whatever the reason it may be, it is more important to her than you.

You watch as the mess disappears, the fences fixed and the magic swirling in the air gone. Slowly the people unpause like nothing happened and things resume to normal. She comes back inside and you think about what to say if she comes to talk to you. You don’t know how to act, she’s never been this mad at you before, although you haven’t messed up your magic this much before so you have nothing to compare it to.

You don’t think you can stand to see her that angry and disappointed again and you don’t want to talk to her. As silently as you can you move across your room and open the window, cringing as it makes a loud squeaking noise. You slide one leg out and then the other so you’re sitting on the ledge awkwardly before looking to make sure no one is coming. Once you’re absolutely sure the coast is clear (you do not need to be in even more trouble for accidentally revealing magic to someone in the town) you slowly float down until you land softly one the lawn.

The park is only a few minutes walk away so it doesn’t take long to run there. In the back there is a group of trees that will help hide you from view so you immediately go there, leaning up against one of them, your knees pulled up to your chest, thinking about everything.

You don’t know what you would do without Agatha. She’s the only parental figure you know and it’s not like you have any friends to turn to. Being a witch isn’t exactly a great way to fit in and you move around far too much to get attached to anyone anyways. You can only hope that she continues teaching you magic and control and doesn’t decide that you’re not good enough for it anymore.

---

She waits a few seconds after she knocks on your door only to hear no response.

“Y/n?” she calls, waiting a few seconds again. There’s still no response. Slowly she pushes the door open, only to find you gone and the window wide open. She rushes to the edge but it’s no use, you aren’t within sight to her.

She thinks about why you would have done that and ashamedly realizes it’s entirely her fault. You have always been a great daughter who listens and tries hard. If she hadn’t yelled at you then you would be here and happy but instead she had to mess everything up. Your mistake wasn’t that bad, and even if it was she shouldn’t have yelled. Her silent promise to herself had always been to be a better mother than hers ever was and she had failed, badly.

“You have failed me once again.”

“I am sorry mother.”

“You apologies are worthless without change.”

“I will change mother, give me time.”

“You have one more chance. Disappoint me again and you will not like the consequences.”

Agatha remembers with great clarity the exact words said between her and her own mother, the moment she vowed to never do the same. Perhaps she has more in common with her mother than she once thought. She knows that although she probably has already acted like her mother a lot, the one thing she can do is try to right her wrongs and apologize. With that in mind, she floats out of the window, determined to find you as soon as possible.

It’s not hard. The town isn’t very big and you love nature, find it calming, so it was easy to narrow down her search to the park before spotting you by the trees. She approaches you slowly, feeling surprisingly nervous, less like a mother and more like a child who accidentally scribbled all over the walls.

“Y/n?” she asks softly and you spin to face her, your eyes wide and unsure. She feels her heart break a little, knowing her actions caused your slight distrust.

“Agatha.” you greet, trying to keep your voice level. Once again she feels a tug at her heart. You’ve almost only called her mum for years so using Agatha is a deliberate choice because she told you not to call her mum.

“Sweetheart, will you come home so we can talk?” she asks.

“I’d prefer to talk here if that’s okay.” you respond. At least in public she can’t yell at you.

“Of course,” she says, “whatever makes you comfortable.”

You give her a tiny smile. She doesn’t seem mad like before. You want to protect your heart but you can’t help but hope that she’s not mad at all anymore.

“I came here to apologize for the way I treated you. It wasn’t okay and I shouldn’t have yelled, it was a simple mistake, an accident and it wasn’t your fault.” she tells you and you smile a little bit more, still hesitant. “You shouldn’t have to be afraid of making mistakes around me, I know what it’s like from my own mother and I never want our relationship to be the same as mine was with her.”

“Can I still call you mum?” you ask and she nods. You still look so small and hesitant, like you can’t believe she’s being nice to you again so she moves closer and gently wraps her arms around you. Even during normal times she isn’t usually affectionate so at the feeling of her hug small tears slip out of your eyes until it builds and you’re sobbing in relief.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, so sorry.” she whispers into your ear. “I love you and even if I’m upset I will always be your mum and I will always do my best to protect you too.”

“I love you too mum.” you tell her. “And for the record I think that you are nothing like your mother.”

She feels a warm feeling in her chest, one of happiness. She may not be perfect but she was trying and you were here and you were her daughter. She knows that she’ll probably still have a lot to do to get you to fully trust her again, to feel one hundred percent safe, but for now it is enough to simply comfort you, and to comfort herself. Today was the closest she’d come to losing you and the scariest, she saw a part of herself she wishes didn’t exist and everything was nearly her fault. She hugs you tighter, making sure that it was real and you were here.

“Can we go home now?” you ask.

She smiles at your use of the word home. “Of course.”

---

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[spiltscribbles]

Oooo it’s my birthday today and I neeeeeed my sweet boys, is it too greedy if I ask for you to write something absolutely adores like you always do. I can wait there’s no rush. It would really make my day a whole lot better

~Notes: HI HI BABY!!! I’m so so fucking sorry this is like two days late 😭😭😭 I am a piece of shit and I had an idea and then I scrapped it and then I came up with this crack shit! But I included singling like you wanted!! And ILU endlessly!!! I hope your birthday was at least filled with sunlight and friends and all the adoration you deserve🎉🎉🎂🥳🎈🎈🎈🎊🎊🥳🎁. And I hope this isn’t a shitty gift!😭😭

.-

Send Me A Prompt<3  |  A Reblog is like a hug!!!!

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The 4 Times People Suspected About Remus and Sirius, and The One Time They Called It By Name

.-

~I~

Peter notices it first.

He doesn’t know quite what it is, or what it means— Peter doesn’t understand what it entails when he’s watching the way Sirius gently thumbs at a high patch on Remus’s cheek while he’s sleeping on the hospital bed after the first full moon of fourth year, a fraught look in his stormy eyes. Or how Remus’s gaze always search Sirius out first after he’s made a wry comment in the expense of the Slytherins, going alight with the other boy’s laughter. Peter doesn’t comprehend the way it sometimes seems like he’s caught in some sort of static— a negative space that makes him feel out of bounds— when he’s alone with only the pair of them. When they’re all huddled around the common area or their dormitory while James is probably skulking in search of Lily Evans or cajoling the other chasers to have another lap around the court. With Remus lounging on his fourposter, or the sofa, reading one of the infinite books he’s got tucked away in his trunk, and Sirius is quietly  sat by his feet, toying with a non-magical contraption he’s found in Muggle London after sneaking out from his ancestral home while his folks were having a row. And Peter is ordinarily just fiddling with a scroll he has to finish for one of the tougher courses from a bit away, intermittently  glancing at them side long, just waiting for an excuse to leave the suffocating ambiance that feels like it’s been fitted for just the pair of them and not another soul.

But the most peculiar part about all of this is that Peter is accustomed to feeling like the spare, the cast off who’s clinging to the glimmering forms that are James and Sirius, and their ravenous appetite for any and all attention that’s given over because that’s the sort of boys they are— affluent and prominent and radiating with a sort of spark that’s all there own— the sort of boys that others find doubtless that they are something miraculous. But when Peter’s around just the pair of them, in the corner of the galaxy that the marauders have carved for them to rule like kings— It never feels quite so stilted, so weighty. Sirius and James have a gift of making everyone in the room feel like they’re in on the joke, that they could be showered with that same granger just as long as they play in the tableau. Remus and Sirius together feels the contrary of that, like there’s something pregnant lying between them, waiting to pounce. Like there’s an understanding that no one else gets to glimpse at, and no one else should try. An understanding  that’s personal and private and crackling with an energy that is far beyond anything between mere friends, beyond anything Peter could fathom with all his fifteen years.

Idly, over supper after an entire two hours being stuck between that strange tension simmering beneath the surface of Remus and Sirius, Peter wonders for the umpteenth time on whether he should ask James about this development in their small brotherhood, should ask him if he’s detected the difference there. And if he has, Peter will listen to James’s plan to ensure this doesn’t ruin anything. How whatever is brewing under the surface won’t absolutely ruin them.

But then, from the corner of his eye, Peter sees Sirius— none to gently— piling Remus’s plate with an abundance of the potatoes that Moony likes best, dipping down to whisper something in his ear— something surely lecherous— before tousling his curls in that brash, bombastic way of his that he does with Peter and James too, even if he ends it by gingerly cupping the nape of Remus’s neck with a surreptitious squeeze that ends just as quickly as it began, falling back into conversation with James and Marlene about the Wasps’s chances against the Harpies this Friday night as if it was just an innate action, even if it’s one Peter’s only ever witnessed him doing to Remus.

And even though there’s another full in two days, and even though Remus looks like a walking inferi— pale faced and exhausted posture and circles the color of midnight smudged beneath his eyes— Peter watches the ends of his lips quirk up into the best approximation of a smile Peter’s ever seen on him so close to the wolf breaking through the surface of his body that’s all skin and bones, and he isn’t sure if it’s a trick of the light or not, but Remus actually looks like he might be glowing over the strange attention that Sirius’s only ever paid to him.

So no… No, Peter doesn’t think he’ll ask James quite yet, reckons that if anything can help his moon plagued friend, that it must be something good, something that shouldn’t be tempered with.

They can figure out how the strange string pulling Remus and Sirius together will alter their brotherhood later on, there’s still time. There’ still a possibility that it won’t devastate everything.

~II~

Lily’s suspected for a while.

The thing is that she’s known about Remus since the end of third year, when he rebuffed the advances of an eager Heleen  Abed, and Lily found him on the ledge of the largest window in the vacant common room— the same one that they regularly commandeer with Mary McDonald to discuss the finer points of Muggle politics and current events, separate from the melting pot of their Gryffindor class that’s composed of either pure bloods or those with their closest Muggle relative being a long dead grandparent. And it was definitely a dangerous, knife’s edge she was playing at, but Lily had sat besides the boy who she’s cultivated a real and true friendship with— one beyond pleasant platitudes and fodder about their course work— and she told him about her cousin Joey with green spiked hair and a mischievous smile adorned with a sparkling stud and how she and Petunia had caught him holding hands with one of his friends from sixth-form in the garden of her Aunt’s cottage, and how even the sneer on her older sisters lips hadn’t deterred Lily from thinking anything but mild indifference about the situation. Only wanting her cousin to always live in that easy effervescence she’s always known when it came to him.

And nothing else was exchanged between them, but Remus had grinned in that barely perceptible way of his, and Lily had nudged his shoulder with her own and then fished out her final handful of chocolate frogs for them to share while they revise their notes for the transfiguration exam coming up. 

Two summers have past since then—they’re in the midst  of their final term of fifth year now— and she thinks that they’ve become even closer, that the frequent late nights in the library for their impending OWLs and their countless prefect rounds has helped forge a real and true bond— especially that whole snag earlier in the year when they had realized they were both snogging Leon Bennett on alternating nights behind greenhouse three. But all of that withstanding, Lily knows that there are still secrets Remus keeps tight to his chest, ones that Lily’s analytical mind— the mind of a potions expert and future healer— has suspected to do with the thin, silvery scars running down his strong hands that are all tapered fingers and slender wrists, and another across his right bicep that she saw when he had changed his robes for a jumper in front of her, and the one cutting down from the bottom of his ear and nearly across the entire length of his neck, ending at the corner of his sharp collarbone. But Lily suspects he’ll tell her about that soon enough, what she isn’t so confident about is him admitting that particularly dazed look he gets when around Black, of all people. The way he stammers his words occasionally and the way he worries on his bottom lip while averting his glance when Sirius is chatting up a very pleased looking girl, and the way he flushes when Lily is ribbing about him in particular. And Lily knows that the foursome of Gryffindor boys had a falling out of sorts before winter hols, that there’s a hairline fracture between them and Remus now— one that she’s sure no one else can pick up on after the way they had seemingly come back together in late January, right before her birthday funnily enough. But Lily’s always been the analytical  sort— the sort to absorb the barebones of a situation so she could conjure a hypothesis that she could prove after careful study.

So Lily knows that it’s something deeper, and she can see  how Remus is reticent around them in ways she’s actually worried won’t be shaken off anytime soon— which is all levels of bazaar considering she’s been telling Remus for years that he needs to shrug off his rowdy mates like a snake shedding an old coat. But before, when she’d barb as much he’d only stick out his tongue and tell her what happens to busybodies, and how she doesn’t really know them at all. But now days, he just looks particularly hurt, and more than a bit put out, and Lily catches him flickering over to wherever Sirius was holding court, longing in a way she couldn’t possibly articulate out loud.

Honestly Lily thinks it’s really quite gracious of her to have dropped the subject completely, rather, she takes up the mantel of his friend that can distract him from all those sorts of woes, biting her tongue over his lingering feelings for Sirius that are more than likely far beyond a passing fancy. And she thinks that maybe that’s a good call, maybe it’s good for Remus to beat down those sorts of emotions  that he’s harboring for the wanker. She knows Remus, and she knows he wouldn’t hold a grudge— even such a quiet one— for no reason at all. Besides, she doesn’t really think it’s her place to tell him how when he’s glancing away, Sirius is holding vigil to him with that same sort of fervor. That Sirius is the one who collects the notes for all his classes on those conspicuous absences of his when Remus is feeling poorly in the infirmary. That Sirius occasionally looks so very gutted when Remus is wilting away from them, when he seeks Lily’s company instead.

She has a heavy suspicion that Remus might already know all of those things— that maybe they’ve already discussed it at length, that maybe the falling out in December has caused a full stop of anything that could’ve potentially blossomed between them. And she just wishes she knew the entire story so she could decide on whether she should be jinxing Black’s face to a putrid orange color, or pushing Remus to actually give him a chance.

Lily just wishes she could read Black as easily as she can Remus, maybe that would help in this experiment she’s testing, because for now she’s just confused as all hell over what exactly Black feels towards him. Well that is until it’s a fortnight before Remus’s birthday, and she’s being bodily dragged into a closet on her way to charms.

“Oi— What the bloody—“

“Language, Evans,” the annoyingly familiar baritone of Sirius Black tsks, lighting up the cupboard with his wand and smirking in that jagged way she’s heard countless girls tittering over, and the one that makes her want to pop him one right against his ridiculously smug face.

“Black,” she says, caustic as all get out with her fists clenched against her sides and her brows making a really resilient effort to meet in the middle. “You’ve got thirty seconds before I hex your bollocks off.”

“Pff, and Jamie thinks you’re some sort of saint.”

“Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven. Twenty-six.”

Sirius pulls a face at her, but must understand the credence in the words, because it’s not another moment more before he pulls out a bedraggled looking slip of paper from his robe’s pocket, and thrusts it at her face. So with an indignant huff, Lily opens it up and begins scanning the words— becoming all the more confused when she sees measurements and things like coco powder and melted butter, instead of whatever the hell else she was preparing herself to read.

“I’m being pranked, aren’t I? You’re trying to distract me so you and Potter can do something horrid to the Slytherin’s common room.”

“We’ve actually already done that today,” Sirius jeers, raising up his hands in concession with a cluck of the tongue at her scowling face. “’s from Moony’s mum, all right. I asked her to send me the recipe of this chocolate cake she use to make him for his birthdays before Hogwarts— I just thought… It might be nice is all, and you can sod right off if you look at me like that, Evans, with the soft eyes and all that rot. Are you going to help me or not?”

Lily resolutely ignores the pang to her heart, because God, this really is such a sweet gesture. “And what? you thought I could help you because I’m a bird?” She asks in the most scolding inflection she could muster in the face of this incredibly soppy gift he wants to give Remus.

“None of that, blimey, Evans.” Sirius snarls, obviously diffident, and combined with the faint flush to his cheeks, Lily suddenly realizes why he’s considered one of the best looking blokes in the entirety of their school. “There’s a whole load of Muggle mumbo jumbo, so it was between asking you, or McDonald, and I adore Mary and all, but  she has got such a mouth on her.”

“You should know,” Lily counters with a leer. “She couldn’t stop going on about your date back in October.”

Sirius’s brows hike, and he actually smiles at her— one that’s vacant from all his bravado from his upbringing in his pretentious, pure blood home, and one that isn’t trying to show off. And Lily can’t help but favoringly liken him to an excited pug. “Oh you’re wicked, Evans!” He shrills delightedly. “Oh this is great, you’re just as depraved as Remus, are all prefects like this?”

Lily snorts, shaking her head at him, indulgent. “Never mind that, Black. Most of this stuff can be found in the kitchens below, I’m sure the house elves won’t mind us borrowing anything.”

“And the ingredients that won’t be down their?” He asks worriedly.

“Well, good on you planning this so far ahead of time, we’ll just have to experiment.”

Sirius groans in retort, muttering things about Muggle potions and James thinking he’s getting off with his future wife and other ridiculous things that Lily doesn’t bother to stay and listen to. Though, when Remus’s birthday does roll around, and she sees his countenance go a thousand shades brighter as he bites into the pudding, and Sirius’s grin stretch just that much more across his face in response— their eyes meeting across the room and past the crowds— Well Lily suspects Sirius never really minded any of the things he was whinging on about, not at all, not as long as the result was a beaming Remus.

~III~

Regulus hears about it in the halls.

He’s not much for gossip or that sort of dribble, doesn’t have much patience for anyone outside his house if he’s being at all frank— and even then, it’s not as if he doesn’t frequently find himself escaping to his fourposter for a moment’s quiet. It seems that everyone in this bloody castle are just dimwitted, daft idiots, and Regulus’s never been the sort to offer allowances for that kind of behavior. He’s been raised in the home of a family as close to royalty as Wizards permit, a prince among men. And he was told that he should have patience for the dull folks beneath him, just as long as they have the correct ideals, but sometimes he can’t help but wish they would all just let him be, sometimes feels like he’s being carted around Hogwarts as the perfect pure blood,  like he was nine years old again and being shown off in the parlor of  his home when guests came to call, watching from the sidelines while his mother rave about how splendid of an heir Sirius is turning out to be. How his tutor calls him a genius for any age, and how darling he looks in Slytherin green, and how he’s already mastered three romance languages to help in his spell work. 

And Regulus can’t help but scoff at those contemplations now, thinking of the past summer when his dramatic and brash brother had made a whole production of leaving behind the values that gave him everything he has. How he escaped to that Potter git’s home the way he’s been doing for nearly every holiday since his second year, how he offered Regulus to come along as if he’s a trader just like him. What a risible excuse for an heir.

But Regulus won’t commit such follies, he’ll make his parents proud— even if his father is nearly never paying much mind and his mother goes from raving to sickly in a blink of an eye. It doesn’t matter, because he’ll carry on the Black legacy, something that his oh so perfect brother never could’ve done. Regulus is only a fifth year, will be turning sixteen in only two months after Sirius’s coming of age, and sure, this might mean he’s still young enough that the Death Eaters don’t find him adequate to fight on the line of fire, but he’ll do it eventually, feels the weight of the letter from Bellatrix praising him for as much resting heavy in his pocket. And if Regulus finds them all a bit too vicious or a bit too excitable and completely lacking a deft hand to make the changes they’re searching for, he shrugs it off. He knows what he must do, and as he stares at his brother from across the valley cusping the lake, he’s only that much more steadfast in the conviction of the fact.

Sirius is sitting and laughing with a group of his Gryffindor mates, the mudbloods, and blood traders that had warped him from the brother he knew to the stranger he is now. And there’s a dark skinned Ravenclaw bird— Meadowes if he remembers correctly from his prefect meetings— and she’s telling some sort of long winded tail with hand gestures and loud cackling coming from the group as she goes on. And Sirius is tossing around a quaffle with Potter— the glint of a handsome, silver watch on his wrist catching in the dying sunlight. And Regulus wonders who had gifted him such a personal passage to adulthood, but is soon distracted by spotting the way Sirius nearly gets smacked in the face with the ball because he was too busy gawking over  at Lupin in such a stripped down, cautious way that it makes Regulus squirm.

He doesn’t know much about the elder Prefect, only that his name had come up nearly as much as Potters during that first year when Sirius would send him correspondence on a frequent basis because he knew how lonely Regulus would get while stuck in Grimmauld all by himself. And then when he began attending Hogwarts, Regulus never could get a good reading on him. He knew Potter because of how his family is infamous for their liberal views and nouveau riche attitudes, and Pettigrews family owns a hokey herb shop in Diagon. All he’s found out about the Lupins is that his father is the son of half-bloods and his mother is a Muggle, and that this mudblood is a reserved, carefully aloof bugger, and that somehow he’s seemingly captured all of Sirius’s attentions that he’s not giving Potter or the clinger ons who follow him around like mindless fools. Beyond that, Lupin and Regulus have only traded a hand full of words whenever their roles of prefects would force them to intermingle, and it’s always been punctuated by Lupin giving Regulus a witheringly cold look anytime they were in close proximity, which is admittedly impressive considering that half the time the sickly bastard looks like he’s about ready to keel over.

So no, Regulus doesn’t know much about him, but he’s heard the rumors. He knows that it’s basically an open secret between the Gryffindor class and selected friends. The fact that  his brother is probably shagging the mudblood, convincing Regulus that Sirius really has never given a toss about the decorum and standards befalling them as the only two Black males of their generation. And he hates his brother  so scathingly right then, hates his little munblood lover probably even more. 

And when he watches Lupin straying his gaze from the novel he was reading while that red haired Muggle born was resting her head in his lap, and Regulus saw the way both of their expressions went a peculiar sort of tender— well that’s the last straw, so he stands up in a huff— so unlike himself— and he cuts the story Mulciber was crowing on about, and he tells them he needs to complete a scroll for Slughorn.

And while he prowls away from the sight of his brother continuing to ruin everything, Regulus plunges a hand into his pocket, and crunches Bellatrix’s letter in his grasp, promises himself to write her back soon, and ignores the ache in his chest that’s only been growing larger since Sirius had left permanently.

~IV~

James’s always known.

Perhaps that’s an over reach, but it’s true enough. He’s known for years, on some level, that the thing between Sirius and Remus is something completely foreign to him. Something completely separate from how Sirius licks his face when James is over sleeping and he wants to be a general nuisance. Separate from how he and Remus have begun discussing anything and everything in the wee hours of the morning, with a spot of tea between them and a blanket on their legs, because Remus can’t sleep from the moon and James has never been able to sleep through the whole night without feeling guilty over it. He thinks it stemmed from when he was younger, when his parents were feeling sickly, and before they were gifted a house elf by a family friend who recognized that the elderly Potters needed just a bit more assistance. 

James never knew whether it was obvious to him because he’s always considered Sirius as his bastard brother since Christmas of first year, and that he’s always trying to make sure that Remus is all right after finding out just how impressively the bloke can keep secrets once Sirius figured out his furry little problem. So he’s not sure what others know, or even what Remus and Sirius  know of what’s happening between them, honestly, there have been so many almosts that James has picked up on over the years. And he still shutters thinking about the near total break that happened with the prank, still isn’t quite sure what had past between them to get Sirius and Remus  speaking with each other once more, but he does know that Remus staying with James, Sirius, and  Peter the past summer after Sirius escaping the twisted place he was suppose to call a home, is what helped indefinitely. And now, a year separate from the prank, things finally feel normal between them.

Well— Erm, not normal per se. Those idiots are still blustering and bumbling and bashfully avoiding one another when anything close to romantic comes up in a discussion or when their hands touch over the Great Hall table or whenever James makes a pointed remark when he catches one of them staring a bit too slack jawed at the other in the midst of something totally bloody innocuous in the eyes of a normal person— EG: Sirius gathering his hair— that’s nearly to the bottom of his neck now a days— into a small knot on the back of his head, or Remus sucking idly on a sugar quill while he’s revising. And sure, James has to deal with the kicks at his ankles, or a spare jinx if one of them is especially pissy, but Lily’s come to join him in the ribbing, so it kind of makes everything all right. Especially when she levels her beautiful, forrest green eyes with his own brown ones, and she actually looks sort of endeared.

Yeah— that’s a fucking amazing feeling all right, and it’s probably the memory of that happening only a few hours ago that has got James all jittery now, far past midnight. So with a tired sigh, he slides open the drapes of his fourposter, is ready to go downstairs for a kitchen raid if Remus isn’t awake— Though once he sets his glasses on, and blinks a few times over to get acclimated with the dark, he’s only a bit stunned to find the shapes of Remus and Sirius crowded on the former’s bed— and they’re really not much more than suggestions beneath the shadows, but it’s enough for James to see Sirius’s head bent low, resting it against the crook of  Moony’s neck and shoulder, while the shorter boy has got his arms wrapped around Sirius’s torso. And it’s nothing obscene, not really— it’s not like they’re nude or anything— but Sirius is shirtless, and Remus does have this blissed out expression painted over his features, that James would bet good money is the same one Sirius has got on if most of his face wasn’t covered by his hair.

And in another breath, Remus’s honey colored eyes flap open, widening exponentially when he catches sight of James, and wiggling around as if he wants to move away from Sirius completely, which is of course stunted when Sirius makes a low noise under his breath, and presses closer so that his mouth is quite literally right against Remus’s neck, and his arms tug him closer.

And James is definitely convinced that he’s the best mate any bloke could ask for when instead of chuckling at the obvious show of territorialism, he just shakes his head indulgently at them, mouthing an “About time plonker,” to Remus, who replies in kind with a hefty, two fingered salute.

This time James has to bite down to prevent his chuckle from spilling out.

“And here I was, about to offer you a snack from our dear house elves.” He whispers, hopefully quiet enough so that only Remus could hear.

“Oh, just bugger off,” Remus retorts, smiling with such mirth that James can’t even feign to be affronted over it, only follows the playful command and tries figuring out just how to give the ‘If you hurt him I’ll hurt you’ talk to the pair of them without it coming across insincerely. 

~+I~

Millie was bored until she saw them.

The only reason why Millie got this boring job in this beyond posh restaurant is because her folks reckon that she needs to learn some form of responsibility before university, and she hates it. The pay is absolute shite, and most of her coworkers are all levels of boring, and the patrons are not nearly entertaining enough to try and make up some secret back story of tumultuous affairs or secret agents from the MI6, or a royal from some country on the continent meeting their star-crossed lover.

It’s all just painfully ordinary, and she’s cursing her parents while she chomps on her gum, reading some stupid note by an ugly old fart who left her his number on the receipt. 

Scoffing while she bins it, Millie glances over to the newly occupied table in her section, heart immediately leaping once she gets a good look at the pair of blokes sitting down. 

The sandy haired one is definitely cute in that reserved way her best friend Claire would definitely be mad over— the guy who could read you poetry in French or Italian and then gently kisses the back of your hand. And that’s all and well, but Millie’s every attention is laser focussed on his mate, the one that looks like he can be bloody James Bond with those smoldering eyes and that ink black hair, and God, those cheekbones! Definitely one of those beautiful, Public school boys who’s born and bread by the patrician. And while she takes their orders, she tosses him her most flattering of grins and slips in her giggle that an ex boyfriend compared to silver bells, and is sure to flip her long, chestnut hair enough times so he’d notice, even if she’s pretty sure he’s either pissed or probably more than a bit stoned. (Truly, where the bloody hell would he come up with pumpkin juice? How horrid must that taste). 

Millie may or may not spend an unreasonable amount of time spying at them from where the cooks drop off the completed plates to be sent away. He’s just so bloody good looking, and she can’t believe this awful job has finally brought her such an amazing distraction, and the arse doesn’t even pay her much mind, leaving the ordering and the conversing to his fair haired friend.

Maybe he’s sensitive, she thinks to herself. Maybe he’s just a shy soul. And yes, that must be it! The poor, beautiful sod. She’s sure to make her intentions clear next time she thinks it’s appropriate to top off their waters, because she’s so very  gracious like that.

“Enjoying yourselves?” Millie asks in her most light hearted of cadences, filling up the shorter one’s glass but smiling fully and exclusively to the boy who looks like he should be starring in some sort of Brook’s Brothers advert.

“Ta,” the sandy haired boy says, sounding a bit amused at her dilemma, but it’s kind enough so Millie doesn’t feel brassed off over it. “Do you mind pointing me to the loo?”

“Oh of course!” She crows, suddenly ecstatic as she directs him, finally getting a chance to be alone with the model. Though when she turns her attention to him once the other one leaves to take a leak, she’s kind of confused how he’s staring after him with a glance she vividly remembers on the face of her ex whenever she’d peer back around to ensure he was watching her go— Though, if Millie’s being honest, the model somehow looks simultaneously eager to watch the back of him, but also already disheartened not to have him around in ways she doubts anyone she’s ever gone out with has ever exhibited. “He’s a nice chap,” she states, instead of marinating on the strangeness of this development.

The practical model starts, seems to have forgotten about her presence all together, but then he glances over towards her with those impossibly flattering, pale gray eyes, and he nods disinterestedly. And yeah, yikes. That is a total hit to Millie’s ego.

“Ahem,” she clears her throat, begins twisting her free hand into the material of her apron. “’S nice you guys came for dinner, you don’t see much friends considering how bloody expensive it is here, hah.”

Millie feels herself going absolutely scarlet at the impassive way he drags his gaze up and down her form before taking a swig of his Bellini. “He’s not my friend.”

“Oh,” Millie practically squeaks out, suddenly wonders if maybe he’s a tutor from his class or something? Maybe the model is just taking the cute one out to dinner as a thanks for helping him pass his A-levels? Maybe this is considered cheap in the circles that the model keeps.

“’S our one year anniversary actually,” he tells her, still in that methodical, blasé way of his. And oh. Oh wow! Suddenly everything is snapping into clarity.

The way the two boys had brushed the back of their hands before being seated, how model had trusted the other boy to order for him, how model never looked away from the cute one’s mouth or collarbones or hands as they spoke. How whenever she came around to ask if they needed anything else, it felt like she was intruding on more than just a couple of mates catching up.

Oh Jesus, she feels like such an idiot, and Millie tells the model just as much.

“I’m sorry, I’m an idiot! I didn’t even put it together.”

Remarkably, the model’s rigid posture goes a bit loose at her apology, and the corner of his thin lips quirk up into a grin. “’S fine, he didn’t want to make a fuss out of it, but yeah— Just feels good telling someone.”

Millie nods eagerly, she can’t understand exactly what he means, obviously not,  but she can definitely try to, and if it feels good for him to tell a random bird about something so important, then she’s more than happy to help. “Well the point stands, yeah? He seems like a good sort, you’re lucky to have found each other.”

The model’s grin goes elastic at that, and he looks actually approachable for the first time tonight. “I’m the luckiest bloke in the world that I get to be with him.”

Millie flushes at the intensity embedded into his statement, but thankfully doesn’t have to answer when she hears the sandy haired boy walking closer now, smiling so brightly that there’s a dimple popping up on the apple of his cheek that Millie’s only just noticed— The mirth is a good color on him, she reckons. Makes him look as gorgeous as those boys on the telly dramas her Mum is always gushing about, even his eyes turn more golden than light brown. “You pestering our waitress Padfoot?”

“You know I keep my devilish tongue for you and you alone Moonbeam,” the model—Padfoot cannot be his actual name for heaven’s sake— retorts.

“Lucky me,” the sandy haired boy says wryly as he takes a seat, and while Millie walks away— intending to get them a pudding that’s on the house to celebrate the milestone of their relationship— she peers back around only once and it’s enough to see the tips of their fingers kissing across the table, and their smiles looking like a secret language not meant for anyone else to read. 

.-

My Full Wolfstar FIC Masterlist💜

[toorusbaby]

end of the day

summary: after a very bad day, all you really want is for your boyfriend, kei tsukishima, to hold you in his arms. however, things don’t go the way you hoped they would.

warnings: self-angst, a very upset y/n, tsukki makes up for it <3

word count: 4,987

The loud jingling of your keys as you unlocked the door to your shared apartment weren’t enough to push the negative thoughts out of your mind. The sound of chirping crickets in the air weren’t capable of relaxing your nerves either. 

It had been a long day to say the least, more exhausting than others. If you were running on batteries, the last of your juice was used up hours ago. It was safe to say that you were burned out. 

You had left the apartment at seven in the morning, fifteen minutes later than usual because your phone decided to go missing. Since Kei was sound asleep after a long night at the museum, you were on the lookout on your own. In the end, your phone turned out to be on the kitchen counter, the battery half drained. By the time you reached the station, you barely missed the train by a millisecond, having to hail a taxi instead. If one thing went right today, you made it just on time to work. 

On the other hand, with the combination of being reprimanded by your boss for missing an important deadline that slipped your mind, a coworker spilling hot coffee on your new blouse, and your thoughts jumbled due to yet another argument you had over the phone with your traditional mother the night before, it was as if your world had come crashing down in the span of a few hours. 

It was eight in the evening when you finally left the office, arriving at your apartment’s front door thirty minutes later. The fact that you were starving only made you more antsy. All you wanted at that very moment was to be held by your longtime boyfriend, Kei Tsukishima, as you buried your face in his chest. You needed him more than ever. 

Twisting the doorknob, the familiar creak of the wooden door made its way to your ears when you entered your apartment. The living room lights were on, symbolizing that Tsukishima was home. Letting out a sigh of relief, you gently shut the door shut behind you, locking it in the process before your eyes made contact with plastic bags on the coffee table. 

Just as you were going to check what was inside, you stopped in your footsteps when you heard the voice of your favorite blond from the kitchen. 

“Y/N, is that you?” Tsukishima’s head popped out slightly from the kitchen entrance, his honey brown eyes meeting yours. A tired grin immediately made its way to your face at the sight of your boyfriend, who wore his favorite grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His hair was a bit damp, probably from his shower. Without missing a beat, you walked your way over to greet him with the usual peck on the lips, holding your arms out for a much needed hug. 

“Kei, I missed you—”

Suddenly, Tsukishima had brought his phone back up to his ear. Your heart dropped at the sight. 

“Is he serious?,” Tsukishima scoffed into the phone. “The exhibition isn’t supposed to open for another five weeks. How are we going to make it work in only two? Fucking ridiculous,”, He grumbled, turning his body away from you momentarily. 

If you thought the coffee that spilled onto your shirt spread fast, the pain in your chest expanded even faster. You understood that you weren’t the only busy person in the relationship; Tsukishima was both an employee at the Sendai museum and a volleyball player for the Sendai Frogs. Compared to him, you felt as if you had no right to complain about being tired. After all, you only had one job, which was working for a well-known design company. And after today’s fiasco, you weren’t sure you even knew how to do your job correctly. 

Kei doesn’t need me bothering him right now, you thought to yourself. He’s busy with work, which is understandable. 

The thought was bittersweet; how could you be so proud of your boyfriend yet feel so lonely? 

 Almost as if he remembered that you were standing before him, the tall volleyball player turned back to face you. Tsukishima pulled the phone away from his ear and placed his palm over the speaker, walking towards you. 

“Sorry about that, Y/N. I should be done soon—” You unintentionally cut your boyfriend off.

“Don’t apologize, Kei,” You spoke with the most enthusiasm you could muster. You hoped it was believable. “I know you’re busy with the upcoming dinosaur exhibition.” 

When you lifted your hands in front of you to wave his apology off, your navy blue blazer had spread open, revealing the brown coffee stain on your white blouse. Tsukishima made brief eye contact with it, immediately frowning to himself; he knew you had been waiting for it to arrive for weeks. 

The exhaustion of the day was catching up with you and you found yourself feeling much more sensitive than usual. Sadness flooded your chest, your heartbeat thudding in your ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with your boyfriend. If you did, you knew you would only end up crying; Tsukishima didn’t need to add you to his list of worries. 

Unbeknownst to you, the blond noticed your stiff posture and the way you refused to meet his gaze. Tsukishima opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. 

“I’m so proud of you, baby. Seriously. But if you’ll excuse me,” your voice slightly wavered. “I’m going to take a shower and call it a night. I’ll see you in a bit.” Flashing a small grin at Tsukishima, you made a beeline to your shared bedroom. 

Even if you had tried your absolute best to give him a proper smile, Tsukishima wasn’t stupid. He knew that you were faking it. It only hurt more to know that you were hiding your pain from him. 

༺♥༻

Stripping your clothes off, you mindlessly left them in a pile on the edge of your king sized bed. Taking one last glance at the coffee stain on your shirt, you clenched your jaw in frustration. You weren’t sure you could hold your emotions in any longer. 

Your feet padded across the room and into the bathroom, your hands moving on their own to open the see-through door of your shower, turning the knobs of the shower faucet. Finally, you stepped inside and shut the shower door. 

Although the steamy hot water cascading down your back helped relax you the majority of the time, that wasn’t exactly the case in this situation. Your posture was stiff, your jaw was still clenched, and the crease between your eyebrows only furrowed deeper. 

The only sound should have been the water falling onto the shower floor, tumbling down the drain. If that was the case, why could you hear the voice of your boss in your head?

‘I expected more from you, Y/N. A lot more. You’ve never let me down, not once. What happened this time? Do not miss a deadline as important as this again or there will be consequences. I hope you don’t make me regret promoting you.’ 

The disappointed voice of your respected boss morphed into your mother’s, the tone furious. Memories of her words from the other night played like a record on repeat in your mind.  

‘Do you really think that living with your boyfriend at this age is acceptable? You and Tsukishima are only twenty three. A man and woman should not live together unless they’re married. I don’t think you two will last for long anyways. Your father may have been more accepting about it, but I think you made the wrong choice. You’re lucky I’m hiding this from your grandmother. What do you think she’d have to say, knowing her granddaughter was so easy?’ 

You blinked once. Then you sniffled twice. 

You had finally reached your limit. Every hurtful word from your mother, every head shake from your boss, and even not being able to peck Tsukishima on the lips for a second, the way you usually did when you got home, echoed in your head. Before you knew it, hot tears leaked from your eyes and down your cheeks, small hiccups escaping your mouth. 

What’s wrong with me?, you clamped a hand over your mouth to silence yourself. That didn’t help much. Why am I such a fucking mess?

Wrapping your free arm around your torso as if to hug yourself, your knees buckled in a moment of weakness. Quiet sobs wracked through your body, annoyance filling you up to the brim when you couldn’t silence yourself. You really didn’t want Tsukishima to hear. Despite the heat of the water affecting your senses, you stood still, allowing the water to mix with your hot tears. 

Little did you know, Tsukishima had been standing silently outside your door the moment you had turned the shower on. As soon as he laid eyes on the bunched up clothing on your shared bed, the blond knew you were bottling your emotions. You were always tidy; you never left a mess behind unless you were out of it. You were more similar to Tsukishima than you thought. 

And because you were so similar, your boyfriend knew that you were trying to drown out the sounds of your crying as you stood under the shower head. Even if he hadn’t been able to hear your cries, Tsukishima knew you all too well, only because he was the same way. And he loved you far too much to let this continue. 

Two quiet knocks on the bathroom door startled you, your hands rushing to wipe your face before you blinked. Trying your best to quietly clear your throat, you sniffled once. 

“I-I’m in the shower, Tsukki!”, you called out. “Is everything okay?”

Tsukishima’s silky voice still managed to make your heart skip, even if he was on the other side of the door. 

“Not really,” you heard him say in his usual monotone voice. “Mind if I join you?” 

Your eyes widened and your heartbeat quickened out of nervousness. You did not want him to see your puffy eyes; you were sure you looked horrible. 

“Um, give me a second!” you called out. There was no use in hiding the fact that you were sobbing your eyes out; the reddened skin around them made it very apparent that you were bawling like a baby. The best you could do was rinse your face repeatedly until most of your sniffling went away. 

After a few seconds, you cleared your throat. “Y-You can come in, Kei!” 

When the door opened, revealing your tall boyfriend who placed one of his t-shirts on the counter, you bit the inside of your cheek. However, when he began to strip, you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks. His toned, fit physique made your heart race and your pulse quicken. Even if you and Tsukishima had been dating for six years, living with each other for two of those, you couldn’t help but still feel a bit shy. 

After all, Kei Tsukishima was your first everything. Your first crush, your first boyfriend, your first kiss. The first person to see your naked body, the person who gave you your first sexual experience, but most importantly, he was also your first love. You knew deep in your heart that the sharp tongued blond would also be your last. 

Silently, you watched as Tsukishima opened the shower door. You stepped to the side, allowing his tall frame to enter the shower which was larger than most apartments would have. When the honey brown orbs you loved so much met your own eyes, you gulped. 

“Kei,” you mumbled with a questioning tone. “Weren’t you busy with work? And didn’t you already take a—” He cut you off with his own questions. 

“I hung up the moment you left the kitchen,” he spoke. ”You’re my priority. What’s going on, Y/N? Why were you crying?” Tsukishima wondered, his tone a bit sharp. Although his tone may have seemed a little harsh to an outsider, you knew that the blond was only worried for you. When he sounded frustrated, it only meant he was concerned. As a result, you only felt worse. 

As Tsukishima reached behind you to lower the excessive heat of the water, you let your eyes wander everywhere but his face. This only made the volleyball player clench his jaw. Even though Tsukishima was known for his patience, he wouldn’t tolerate your avoidance of his question. 

“It’s nothing, baby. Just a bad day, that’s all. I’m okay. Just a little tired— Kei!” you shouted when the warm water suddenly cut off. The cool breeze entering the bathroom from the open window was sure to give you goosebumps. “Kei, stop messing around. Turn the water back on,” you humorlessly chuckled. You really didn’t find it funny.

You reached for the shower knobs, wanting to avoid any confrontation. Your tears were the last thing Tsukishima needed to worry about, especially because he had to focus on preparing for the new exhibition. Your feelings simply weren’t that important. 

As soon as your hand was about to reach the handle, Tsukishima grabbed onto your wrist, gently pushing your back against the shower wall. You let out a loud gasp at the sudden feeling of the cool wall tiles behind you. 

“T-Tsukki, what the hell! It’s cold!” You shouted, your back instinctively arching. Your eyes were wide, finally meeting his golden brown ones. 

About time, the blonde thought. He missed having your eyes on his. 

Suddenly, the boy pinned you against the wall. Tsukishima’s stare was so intense, you instinctively rested your back against the cold tile. His bare body against your own caused your cheeks to redden. When goosebumps formed on your arms, the blond used his free hand to rub them away in order to warm your skin. The action was loving, despite his serious gaze. 

“I’ll turn the water back on when you tell me what’s got you so upset, baby.” Tsukishima calmly spoke, his hand quickly moving to lift your chin up the very second you were about to look down. He knew you well; too well. “What is it that hurt you to the point where you’re hiding your tears from me?” 

When he asked the second question, you noticed that Tsukishima had used a softer tone, one that was gentle yet doting. The feeling of the pad of his thumb gently stroking your chin brought you back to reality. You loved Kei with your entire being. Despite your fear that you would stress him out, you couldn’t lie to him. 

After a moment’s pause, you were ready to open up. Your mouth felt dry, but you forced yourself to speak. “I-I just…” you trailed off. Your eyes wavered on his, your emotions threatening to take over once again. 

Tsukishima could see the glossy screen making its way over your eyes. He knew that you always tried to display your strong side, but he also understood your sensitivity. For you to cry alone, Tsukishima would never allow it. But for you to cry in front of him, in his protective arms, he wanted you to know that everything would be okay. Even if things didn’t seem like they were going to go well, Tsukishima would make sure everything worked out. For you. 

Everything he did, Kei Tsukishima did it for you. 

“Kei, I just…” your voice was uneven. You blinked rapidly. 

Tsukishima’s hand moved its way to cup your cheek in his palm. When he felt you trembling, the blond didn’t hesitate to turn the water back on to its hottest setting. Understanding that you couldn’t meet his gaze at that moment, the volleyball player used his free hand to lay your cheek against his chest. Then, he wrapped his other arm around your waist, pressing your body flush against his. 

You shut your eyes, your heart aching in your chest. Your hands instinctively reached out to hold onto his biceps. You felt like a burden. The moment you felt a kiss on the top of your head, you broke. 

“Kei, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whispered in a desperate voice. Your vision became cloudy with tears once again. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Why can’t I do anything right for once?” you whimpered. Your throat began to ache from holding in your cries. 

Tsukishima felt your shoulders trembling in his arms. In response, he held you tighter to his chest, his large hand reassuringly grazing up and down your bare back. A quiet sigh of relief left his lips when your body relaxed from his touch.  

“First, it was an argument with my mom. You know how she’s always been about us living together,” you mumbled. Your shoulders relaxed when you felt the low vibrations of your boyfriend’s chuckle in his chest. 

“Trust me,” the blond mused. “I know.” The memory of your mother throwing a temper tantrum the day you and him officially moved into your shared apartment was burned into his memory. 

Even though tears were dripping down your chin and your sniffling had returned, a small smile made its way to your face. Tsukishima didn’t have to use his words to make you feel understood. 

You cleared your throat, the smile slowly fading. “And then it was my boss. I-I understand why he was upset. I mean, it was my fault for forgetting about the deadline. But I just…” your grip on his biceps tightened and you sighed. “I hate knowing that I’ve let people down. I really don’t mean to.” Your voice cracked. 

Momentarily, your boyfriend pulled your face away from his chest. The sounds of your whimpering made his chest ache. Using the pads of his thumbs, he wordlessly wiped from under your eyes and gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead. Your eyes responded by welling up with a new batch of tears. 

“Kei,” you breathed out. “Kei, you’re gonna make me cry even more.” You whined and felt your bottom lip tremble. With his large palms now cupping your face, Tsukishima only smiled softly down at you. 

“So cry then. Let it all out, Y/N.” As soon as Tsukishima’s words registered in your head, golden brown eyes watched as tears leaked from your eyes that he loved so much. His thumbs held your head in place gently, his lips moving on their own to kiss both of your tear streaked cheeks, ignoring the salty taste on his lips. In that moment, Tsukishima only cared about making you feel better.

“It’s okay to cry. And it’s okay to have bad days. But it’s not okay to keep all of these emotions to yourself. Why do you think you have me, you dummy?,” the blond gently chided, his lips pursed together when you grinned. After a pause, he continued. 

“I know that I’ve been really busy with work and I’m sorry.”

“Tsukki, you don’t have to apologize—”

The pointed stare your boyfriend gave you halted your words. When you fell silent, Tsukishima gently grazed his knuckles on your cheek. His eyes never left yours. 

“But nothing is more important to me than you. Work can wait, you come first. You always will.” Tsukishima’s hands reached behind you to grab your strawberry scented shampoo. The two of you fell silent for a second, the only sound being your sniffling and the water tumbling down the drain. When your boyfriend poured some shampoo onto his palm, his fingers working to lather the substance into your hair, you swore your heart was going to burst. It was only the sound of Tsukishima clicking his tongue that brought you back to reality. 

“I know you well enough to know that you’ve been calling yourself a burden or some shit like that, so stop it.” Tsukishima watched as your cheeks reddened from the truth of his words. He let out a small sigh, amused at the fact that he was correct, but upset that you viewed yourself as one. The idea of you putting yourself down over inevitable events didn’t sit right with him. 

The feeling of his fingers lathered in shampoo against your scalp released the tension in your body, the scent of strawberry filling your nostrils and the silky sound of his voice filling up a void within you that had been empty just before. It was as if Tsukishima was picking up your broken pieces, placing them back together again. 

“But trust me. You’re far from being a burden. If anything...” the blond trailed off, gesturing for you to rinse the shampoo out of your hair. Leaning your head back, you let the water wash the shampoo off. Tsukishima already had conditioner in his palm, ready to loosen the tangles in your hair. 

“If anything,” he continued. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Tsukishima admitted. The blond could feel heat rise to his cheeks, but he didn’t care. His long, calloused fingers worked their magic on the tips of your hair first. 

“My favorite part of the day is waking up by your side in the morning.” Untangling your hair, then rinsing. “Every time you kiss me, I fall in love all over again like an idiot.” A peck on your forehead. “I love teasing the hell out of you, only because I know you secretly like it.” A smirk and a gentle spank on your butt. You pouted playfully. 

“But holding you as we fall asleep,” Tsukishima breathed out, his forehead against yours. “The feeling of having you in my arms every single night?” His voice was a drug and you couldn’t get enough.

Your attention was only on Tsukishima. You didn’t even feel that the water was slowly growing colder. You wouldn’t care even if you noticed. You had the love of your life keeping you warm and that’s all that mattered. 

“Knowing that you need me, just as much as I need you… You’re the only person I’d go soft for, but you’re also the best thing I could ever ask for, baby. Not even close to a burden.” You felt Tsukishima’s hand intertwine with yours, fingers locked together. 

“I love you so much, Y/N. This will never change.”

You’ve heard Tsukishima tell you that he loved you hundreds of times. The love confessions often paired with either his famous smug smile, the sad eyes Tsukishima only showed to you after a rough day, or the tired tone in bed after a heated argument, after the two of you would apologize; both of you never went to bed angry. 

Hearing Kei Tsukishima, the man with a sharp tongue who was known to conceal his true feelings, remind you of how much you meant to him and feeling him hold you so closely, your body moved before you could think. 

Grabbing hold of his neck from behind with your free hand, you pulled the blond into a deep kiss. Tsukishima didn’t hesitate to reciprocate, his hands running through your wet, now silky hair as he pulled you closer by the waist. You tilted your head to the side, feeling his nose  brush against yours as he deepened the kiss. 

You were on cloud nine. 

It was a long moment later when you pulled away, out of breath and cheeks ablaze. You quickly used your thumb to wipe away the small string of saliva on your bottom lip, embarrassed at how forward you had behaved. Tsukishima only had a smug smirk on his now swollen lips, his tongue poking out to lick at the corner of his mouth. He chuckled when you wordlessly buried your face in his chest. The blond immediately wrapped his arms around your smaller frame, resting his chin on top of your head. 

“I’d rather have you give me a sloppy kiss like that than see you crying, moron. Thank god you’re cute though, even if your eyes are puffy.” 

You groaned into his chest, spanking his butt out of spite. His sudden jolt made you smirk. 

“I love you Kei, but please shut up.”

“Mm, I don’t really feel like it.”

༺♥༻

What once was steamy hot water had soon turned cold by the time you and Tsukishima left the shower. Freshly clean and your tears completely washed away by the water and your boyfriend’s sweet kisses, you were now dry, wearing the blond’s large olive green t-shirt and a pair of black panties.

Tsukishima had gone to the living room to make sure the doors and windows were locked, telling you to get comfortable in bed. Only in his grey sweatpants, the blond didn’t feel like wearing his shirt. You definitely didn’t mind. 

On the edge of your bed, your pile of clothing from earlier was placed in a laundry basket, only to be replaced by the plastic bags you had seen on the coffee table the moment you entered your apartment. A very familiar scent was coming from whatever was inside and your stomach growled in anticipation.

No way, you wondered with wide eyes. Did he…?  

“Did you really think I’d let you go to bed hungry?” 

Your head swiveled back to face your favorite blond. There Tsukishima stood with plates in one hand, water bottles gathered in his other arm. Your excitement must have been evident on your face because your boyfriend gave you an authentic, loving smile, all signs of smugness gone. 

“Baby,” your fingers happily toyed with the plastic bag’s tied handle. “Did you get curry buns?”

Tsukishima made his way over to you, settling the plates down on the bed. Then, he lifted his hand to gently flick your forehead. “Why don’t you open the boxes and see for yourself, hm?”

༺♥༻

The humming sound of the fan in front of your bed blowing cool air into the room filled the air. Very faintly, you could still hear the crickets chirping outside when you lifted your head. Glancing at the nightstand, the clock beside Tsukishima’s glasses read that it was a bit past ten thirty. 

With a stomach full of curry buns along with other side dishes your boyfriend so lovingly spoiled you with, you sighed contentedly. In a sleepy daze, you laid your head onto Tsukishima’s warm, bare chest and closed your eyes. Listening to the sound of his heartbeat was one of your favorite things to do when the two of you cuddled; you found it endearing and intimate. Although he’d never admit it, Tsukishima felt the same way.

A protective arm wrapped its way around your waist, Tsukishima’s long legs tangled with your own. His free hand played with the ends of your hair, twirling it repeatedly with his fingers. You began to feel even sleepier, the food coma making an entrance. You slowly blinked, then turned your head to look up at your boyfriend who had a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“You know I love you, right Kei?”

“If you didn’t, I wouldn’t have bought you curry buns, Y/N.”

Before you could give a sassy response, Tsukishima tilted your head to face him. Then, he gently pecked your lips twice. 

“To make up for earlier. I’m sorry I missed it when you came home. Never again,” he mumbled, using his hand to move strands of hair away from your face. 

You giggled quietly, your face tickled by his blonde hair that loomed over you. You loved it when he was physically affectionate. “Thank you for loving me, Kei,” you whispered. Your eyes were fixated on his, his pupils dilated in the room’s soft yellow lighting. “I love you. So damn much.”

With a kiss to his nose, you readjusted yourself so you could snuggle into Tsukishima’s chest. The volleyball player leaned over to turn the night lamp off before placing the blanket over the two of you, the scent of your strawberry shampoo creating butterflies in his stomach. When he looked down at you for the last time that night, you were already sound asleep with your arm securely wrapped around his torso. 

Sure, the majority of your day consisted of mostly negatives. And yes, you had to say goodbye to your new blouse. Coffee stains on white were a done deal. But it wasn’t as if you couldn’t order a new one. Your boss would eventually get over your flaw at work; you’d compensate somehow and get back on track. And when was your mother not upset with you? It was hard, but it was worth it if that meant living with Tsukishima. Your mom would eventually come to terms with the fact that you were twenty three, almost twenty four. You were an adult after all; days like this were normal.

But at the end of the day, Tsukishima was always going to be there for you. Despite the difficulties you faced and the many downfalls that were yet to come, you knew that Kei was going to be there to hold you when you fell asleep. You’d do the same for him if it was the last thing you ever did. 

Your faint breathing and the whirring fan were the only audible sounds in the room. With his golden brown eyes threatening to flutter shut, Kei Tsukishima gave one last glance at his cabinet across the room. Inside the third drawer underneath his volleyball practice clothes, sat a black velvet box with a diamond ring waiting to be worn on your left ring finger. 

A smile formed on the blond’s lips when he leaned over to kiss the top of your sleeping head one last time before dozing off. He truly couldn’t wait to ask you to marry him when the time was just right. But for now, it was already the end of the day. Regardless, Kei Tsukishima was excited to share a new beginning with you.

[fic-for-fic-sake]

A Happy Accident

A/N: The other day I found out that Chris Evans may possibly have a sex dungeon? I don’t write real people fics but I knew I HAD to write a Steve Rogers fic about this because I mean...c’mon. Also the text conversation in the fic is indeed a real conversation between my friend and I. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub, flogging, being tied up, penetrative sex, honorifics, praise kink

Word Count: 5.4k

You knew there was trouble before you even reached the meeting room, it was like a palpable tension you could sense coming from the conference room. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever was to come as you walked in and took your usual spot next to Natasha. 

“Do you have any idea what this is about?” You questioned her, murmuring under your breath since nobody seemed keen to speak above a whisper for the time being. 

“Some kind of security breach, we don’t know how bad yet, we have to wait for Stark.” She explained, speaking in clipped tones. She seemed nervous, which was understandable given the circumstances. A security breach could mean a number of things, none of them good. Anything from weapons tech to secret identities could’ve been revealed in the breach. 

The tension seemed to come to a head when Tony and Steve walked into the room. Everyone erupted into a flurry of activity, peppering the two men with so many questions it was hard to make out what came from who. 

“What was taken?” Someone asked. 

“Was it anything serious?” Someone else wondered. 

“Do we need to scrap the new suit designs?” You asked, adding your voice to the babble. 

“Okay everyone settle down and give Tony some room to think.” Steve urged all of you, forming a one man barrier around Stark. Which you had to admit was rather effective. Once everyone reseated themselves and Steve gave Tony a nod, Tony cleared his throat. 

“By now you all have obviously heard that there’s been a security breach. We don’t know who is behind the breach but so far all that was leaked was text conversations of the following Avengers; Wanda, Sam, Bucky, and Y/N.” 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. You were a target in the security breach. But why? Why you specifically and why just your text conversations? It seemed rather harmless considering everything else they could’ve taken. 

“Luckily Wanda doesn’t really text anyone because everyone she knows is here. As far as Sam, Bucky, and Y/N are concerned they only leaked conversations from your work phones, meaning your personal phone security isn’t in question.” Tony reassured you all. Well, it reassured Sam and Bucky at least. 

“Um, what do you mean ‘work phone’?” You asked, looking around with a puzzled expression on your face. 

“You do have a burner phone for personal use, right?” Nat asked from beside you. Now your heart was located somewhere in your feet. 

“I didn’t know I needed one.” You whispered, barely contained horror edging its way into your voice. 

“Well, I mean what’s the worst that could be there?” Sam asked, trying to reassure you. Luckily, or unluckily enough, you didn’t have to answer that question because within the coming days they would all find out. 

After the meeting you tried to go about your normal routine and ignore the security breach as best as you could. That got considerably harder the following morning, when the hacker released your private conversations with your friends for all the world to see. They went something like this: 

Sarah: Do you think Steve Rogers is good in bed? 

You: Obviously, dumb question. 

Sarah: Do you think he’s kinky though? 

You: Oh 100%, no way he doesn’t have a secret sex dungeon or something. 

Sarah: Since you’re an Avenger now you should try to find out. 

You: HAHAHAHAHA that’s hilarious and something I’ll never do, in reality. But in theory PUT ME IN COACH! I bet he would probably make me sign an NDA and I would totally be down for that. 

Sarah: I’ll sign a DNR

You: HAA, I would sign the NDA but also have to tell you what’s happening and then I would make you sign an NDA. 

Sarah: Then you’re breaking the NDA??

You: Not if you don’t tell anyone goddamn be cool. 

Sarah: It’s the principle of the thing

You: ...I wonder what kind of dom he is

Sarah: Idk if he’s a daddy. He feels like a Sir or Master. I also think he doesn’t have soft limits, only hard limits. 

You: as much as I would like to think he’s a pleasure dom I don’t think that’s true

Sarah: I agree

You: Maybe a brat tamer? 

Sarah: That feels too tame for him. 

You: Okay so then just a no holds bard whipping dom. I would wait all day in his sex dungeon just to lick his boots when he came home. Does that make me depraved? Probably. 

Sarah: Possibly, I also think he’d degrade the shit out of you, like kinda pet play shit. I also think he has a spreader bar collection. Aaaand an overstimulation kink. 

You: Oh agreed, that and edging. I feel like he would edge you for hours and then leave to go on a mission or something and you’re not allowed to touch yourself and then he comes back hours later and you’re just aching for release. And then only after you’re BEGGING he would let you come. 

Sarah: Oof. How much do you wanna bet his dungeon is like a sensory deprivation thing? Think about it, hours upon hours of not having any form of relief, after begging nonstop, no real form of your senses and then BAM normal orgasm but heightened to the absolute max. 

You: YEP! I bet he’s like the king of aftercare though, like 1000/10 so sweet. Like Steve Rogers is legit such a nice human being so I assume aftercare is the same. 

Sarah: AYO SIR LEMME BE YOUR SUB

You: GOD FORREAL!

Needless to say, you did not leave your room that day. The next day you tried to get away with not leaving your room again but Nat was having none of that. 

“Come on Y/N, I promise it’s not that bad, I’ve said much worse.” She assured you as she practically dragged you out of your room and into the elevator. 

You buried your head in your hands and let out a frustrated scream. “He’s a coworker, Nat, and I totally objectified him and basically said all the filthy things I wanted him to do to me.” 

“And I bet he’s real flattered about it! The man needs a good ego boost every now and then.” She replied with a laugh. To which you responded with another frustrated scream and a kick to the elevator doors as they opened. “I bet he didn’t even read it, I doubt anyone on the team did.” She said, sounding certain in her own thinking. She half convinced you until you walked into the training room and every pair of eyes turned to you, including Steve’s baby blues. Fuck. 

“Okay we’re working in a group today people, focusing on enhanced individuals with external powers. Wanda and Y/N against Sam, Bucky, and Steve.” Nat announced, opening the door to the special training facility. So you and Wanda wouldn’t trash too much of Stark’s equipment with your powers. 

“Hey Y/N, you been to any good sex dungeouns recently? I’m looking for one.” Sam quipped as you made your way to the starting point. Before you could even think about what you were doing the smell of ozone was ripe in the air and you sent a bolt of lightning hurtling towards Sam who was barely able to dodge it in time. 

“Sorry...hand slipped.” You mock apologized, making it clear that you would have another ‘hand slip’ if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. He got the point well enough but the damage was already done. The tension was worse now than when you first found out about the breach, everyone trying not to bring up the elephant in the room. 

Nat cleared her throat and started her countdown and then the training began in earnest. After an hour you were all panting and sweating, utterly spent from your session. Steve passed everyone a water bottle and you took it gratefully, chugging the cool liquid in earnest. It was then that another comment was made, this time by Bucky. 

“Thanks for the aftercare daddy.” He mocked as he opened his own water bottle. Once again the smell of ozone was in the air but you didn’t have a chance to meet your target before Steve had Bucky pressed against the wall, his forearm digging into the other man’s throat. 

“That’s enough.” He growled through his teeth. Everyone was silent for a minute and you almost felt sorry for the deer in the headlights look Bucky was now wearing on his face, almost. A shower of frustrated sparks extinguished all the lights in the room as you stormed from the room, embarrassment trailing after you. 

That had been four hours ago and you hadn’t left your room, despite Natasha banging on the other side of your door. You had asked FRIDAY not to open it for anyone unless given your express permission. It seemed even the AI knew what kind of a mess you had landed yourself into, as she was immediately understanding of such a request. You were in the process of ordering a burner phone off of Amazon when there was a knock at your door. 

“Nat, I don’t care how many books you offer to buy me, I’m NOT coming out of this room.” You yelled into the empty space of your room. 

“Noted, but uh, it’s Steve. Can we talk?” You were at the door before he finished his sentence. You opened it no more than a crack, not courageous enough to do more. 

“I don’t wanna talk to you, I’m mortified.” You mumbled, looking down at your feet instead of the imposing figure outside of your door. Steve gently pushed on the door with his hand and you let him open it the rest of the way. He brought gentle fingers to your chin and tilted your head back so you were looking into his eyes. 

“There’s nothing to be mortified about, sweetheart. I just wanna talk.” He replied beseechingly. And maybe it was the tone of his voice, or the way he looked at you, but you relented and let him in, closing the door softly behind you. 

“Listen, I’m really sorry for what I said. I obviously never thought it would see the light of day but that’s not an excuse and doesn’t make it okay. Fuck, Steve I’m so sorry. I can get reassigned if you want, have SHIELD put me somewhere else.” You rattled off apologies and half baked plans before you felt his hands gently clasp your shoulders and once again you were forced to look up into his eyes which had gone saucer wide. 

“Doll what are you talking about? You don’t need to be reassigned, it's not that big of a deal.” He said, in an attempt to comfort you. 

“Not a big deal? I practically accused you of having a sex dungeon and being a mega dom.” You blurted out, mortification making your voice rise half an octave. 

He let out a soft sigh before he sat down on the edge of your bed, “It’s not like you were completely in the wrong.” He replied, and that’s when your brain short circuited. 

“What? You have a sex dungeon?” 

“Well, it’s not a dungeon, it's just my bedroom, but yes I do, partake in those types of things you described.” He explained, his voice as even and calm as if he were discussing the weather. 

“Oh.” Was all you could really bring yourself to say. 

“Oh? That’s all? I have to say you were much more articulate in your texts.” He teased, his voice suddenly becoming deeper and taking on an air of authority that wasn’t there a second ago. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

And again, maybe it was because of his tone or because of the absurdity of the situation you found yourself in but you answered him honestly. “I’m thinking I’m absolutely mortified that my coworker found out how badly I want him to fuck me.” 

“What else?” He prompted. You couldn’t breathe properly, he was taking all the air from the room and the intensity in his gaze pinned you to the spot, like an unsuspecting doe finding itself at the barrel of a gun. 

“I’m wondering how correct my predictions were. What kind of a dom you are.” 

“Would you like to find out?” 

“Yes.” You answered before you could think better of it. The second the word left your mouth your eyes went wide at the confession. Because you did want to find out, God did you want to find out what kind of shit Steve Rogers, the golden boy, was into. 

“Then we have ourselves a deal. You want to find out what I’m into and I want to show you.” 

“Right now?” You asked, breathless. You could feel your core ache at the suggestion, the want plain as day. 

He chuckled before he moved to stand before you. “No pretty girl, not yet.” He whispered, bringing his right hand up to cup your cheek and stroke his thumb across the expanse of your lips. “First we have to talk about a few things.” 

“Like what?” You questioned, completely enraptured by this man, finding yourself willing to submit to whatever he wanted you to. You were terrified by how much the prospect excited you. 

“Like exactly what you want me to do to you. Your texts were very...explicit. But, that may have just been talk. I need to know specifics if this is going to work.” Steve explained, backing you up until you hit your dresser. Without a word he lifted you on top of it and stood between your legs, one of his hands tracing absent minded patterns on your thigh. 

It was hard to think with him in such close proximity but you tried to clear your mind because you really wanted this, your mouth went dry at the thought. “I want...I want to be tied up. And I want to be blindfolded. And whipped.” It felt weird to lay your desires out plain before you like this. It made you feel exposed, but it was also oddly empowering. 

Steve nodded his head at your requests. “You mentioned something to your friend about edging and orgasm denial, is that something you still wanted to try?” 

“Yes, but not, not yet. I’ve never um, I haven’t- I’ve never been kinky with a partner.” You explained to him, feeling an embarrassing heat creeping up your face. 

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, we all start somewhere.” Steve insisted, bringing his hands up to settle on your hips. “Anything else?” After you shook your head he gave you a nod in reassurance. “Okay, I’ll be in touch.” He said as he stepped away from you. 

That was three days ago and you hadn’t heard anything from him on the matter since. You had trained with him, went for a run with him, had the usual team meetings and exchanged the usual pleasantries but nothing out of the ordinary. You had even gone far enough in your wandering mind to think that maybe you imagined the whole interaction. 

On Friday, you were told that Steve had gone away on a mission and by that point the team was done teasing you about the leaked conversation, already having moved on to the next thing. You had made plans to go out with them that night to a community outreach thing in Manhattan. You had just gotten your jeans on when a piece of paper slid across your floor from the door. 

You walked over to it, thinking someone had just dropped their paper, when you saw what was written on the other side of it.

Text an excuse to Stark for the outreach and then come to my room. -SR 

Your heartbeat sped up to a gallop as you read the message through two more times, just to be certain. This was it, it was happening. With shaky fingers you texted Tony a flimsy excuse about draft reports you needed to finish before you put your phone back on your desk and calmly made your way to Steve’s room. 

You went to knock but found the door slightly ajar. Taking that as your cue you stepped into Steve Rogers room. While it wasn’t the first time you had been here, it was certainly a circumstance that you weren’t used to. Everything seemed...different somehow. The curtains were drawn and the only light came from dim overhead lighting. There was a faint scent of jasmine that you assumed came from a candle or incense burner you couldn’t see somewhere. On the bed, the sheets had been changed to something that looked like silk and resting on top was an eye mask and two long chords of rope. Which seemed innocuous enough, current circumstances notwithstanding. 

“Shut the door and lock it please.” A voice commanded from a shadow in the corner of the room. As soon as you locked the door Steve Rogers emerged from the shadows in an all black version of his Captain America suit. You had never seen him in such a suit before and the sight of him in it made your mouth water and your knees buckle. This was really happening. 

“I have to admit, when I read your text conversation I was surprised to say the least. I didn’t know how many dirty thoughts resided in that head of yours but you did not disappoint, did you sweetheart?” He questioned as he made his way over to where you stood, rooted to your spot by the door. He gently pressed against your shoulder and you followed his lead, letting him back you against the door, his strong hands landing on either side of your head, arms caging you in. “And then when we spoke, you were /very/ specific in what you wanted and I am nothing if not obliging, you’ll find.” He whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your mouth at the implication behind his words. 

“Are you ready to be my good girl? Hmm sweetheart?” 

“Yes Steve.” You whispered, your mind not being able to form anything other than those words. 

He made a slight tsking sound. “In here, don’t call me Steve. It’s Captain. Got it?” 

“Yes Captain.” You replied obediently. 

“Good girl, now get undressed for me.” He commanded, stepping back to give you room to complete his task. With nervous fingers you lifted your shirt above your head and undid the clasp on your bra. You watched as Steve’s eyes took in your exposed top half, he licked his lips which made you shiver in turn. Confidence growing by his visible excitement you unbuttoned your jeans and slipped them down your legs along with your panties, until you were gloriously naked before him. 

“God, you're so beautiful sweetheart. I’m already getting hard and all you’ve done is get undressed.” He praised you as he palmed himself through his tac pants. “Come here pretty girl.” He insisted as he picked up the blindfold. 

You walked over to him and turned around as he secured the blindfold against your eyes and tied it for you. “Now, we’re gonna use a color system, okay? Green means you’re okay to keep going, Yellow means to slow down, and Red means stop. Can you remember that doll?” 

“Yes Captain.” You murmured as you adjusted to not being able to see. You tuned into your other senses to rely on what was happening. You felt Steve take your hand and walk you over until you reached the side of the bed. He helped you up before asking you to lay down on your back. 

“Okay pretty girl I’m gonna tie you up now.” He told you as you felt both of his hands take your left arm and maneuver it above your head before securing your wrist in place with rope. He pressed a gentle kiss to the spot before repeating the process with your other arm. “How do you feel sweetheart?” 

“Good Captain, I feel good.” You told him as your heartbeat kicked up another notch. You felt him take your left leg with gentle fingers and tie your ankle to the baseboard of the bed. You gasped as he secured your right ankle, knowing you were now naked and spread bare before him. You felt the bed dip as he kneeled over you and brought his mouth down to whisper in your ear. 

“What’s your color baby?” 

“Green.” You replied. Almost immediately you felt his lips press against yours, desperate and hungry for you. You kissed back with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed. It was a strange sensation, kissing someone you couldn’t touch let alone see, but that didn’t make it unpleasant. You felt blissfully detached from your body and the need raced down to your pussy until you had the sudden urge to close your legs and hide your arousal. 

Steve chuckled against your mouth as his left hand snaked down to see what you were trying in vain to hide. “So eager for me and we’ve hardly started” He lazily swiped his fingers along your folds to feel the wetness that gathered there. He then brought the same hand up to your breast and worked your juices around your nipple, making you groan at the sheer wantonness of it all. Steve happily swallowed your groan with his mouth, his tongue taking the opportunity to pass your lips. 

You fervently kissed him back as his ministrations against your nipple continued. His lips left yours and left a trail of hot kisses down your throat and over to your neglected right nipple. You felt him blow cold air on it and your back bowed against the bed, your arms straining against the restraints. He scraped his teeth against your sensitive bud and you couldn’t help the noises that escaped your mouth. 

“Oh fuck, Captain.” You let out as he took your nipple into his mouth. You could feel his left hand leave your nipple and you let out a whine of protest. He only laughed against your skin before you heard the faint opening of a drawer. Your ears picked up the sound of him rummaging around for something but you couldn’t focus too much on that as the rest of your body was alight with fire as he continued to work on your nipple with his mouth. He finally found what he was looking for in the drawer and he released your nipple with a wet popping sound before you felt his weight shift and he removed himself from you. 

“You mentioned something about being whipped.” He teased, and you could hear that his own arousal had made his voice hoarse. Your cunt throbbed in response. “Do you know what a flogger is pretty girl?” 

“Yes Captain.” You replied from your position on the bed. Your mouth went dry at the mental image you had of Steve in his black tac suit with a flogger in hand. How would he use it on you? Would it hurt? Be pleasant? The anticipation was eating you up in the best of ways. 

“Good girl. We’re gonna do some counting. Since this is your first time we won’t do too many, just ten. But you have to count them pretty girl. If you forget, or lose count, we start over. Do you understand?” 

Oh fuck. “Yes Captain.” You heard him chuckle from somewhere above you before you heard the whoosh of the flogger and the sensation on your skin. You gasped as the leather straps came down hard against your left nipple. “One.” The second one came down against your right nipple and you found that your pussy clenched around nothing. “Two.” 

Numbers three, four, and five were placed on your nipples and your stomach.

“Halfway there pretty girl, you’re doing so well.” Steve’s voice came from somewhere around you. A thin layer of sweat had broken out over your skin and your arousal was through the roof. You found yourself panting in anticipation of the next strike. It came, the leather striking against your dripping center and you let out a gasp as your back arched off of the silk sheets. “Six” 

“Oh you liked that one didn’t you sweetheart?” Steve teased. 

“Yes Captain.” You replied breathlessly. Number seven came in the same spot and another lewd sound left your mouth as the flogger found its spot. Numbers eight and nine he placed on the sensitive insides of your thighs. 

“Last one pretty girl. You’ve taken it so well I’ll let you decide where this last one goes.” 

“Hit my pussy again, please, I want it so bad Captain.” You practically pleaded. Under any other circumstances you would’ve been ashamed at how pathetic you sounded but you didn’t care. Steve Rogers was doing depraved things to you and you couldn’t think straight. You just wanted him to keep doing what he was doing, to take all of you, every tiny nook and cranny of your being until he knew your pleasures like the back of his hand. 

“Such a needy girl, maybe after the flogger I’ll give you a reward.” He replied, sounding pleased with you, before he placed the tenth and final flog against your aching core. “God you look so sexy like this, blindfolded and tied to my bed, maybe I should leave you here as my own personal fucktoy, would you like that baby?” He asked as he inserted two fingers into your mouth. 

You mumbled your response against the digits, your pussy getting wetter at the thought of him using you like that. You were only half kidding when you had texted your friend about it but now, with your arousal so strong, it sounded more and more enticing. Steve removed his fingers from your mouth and brought them down to your sensitive center, rubbing them up and down your slit before inserting them into your slick heat. You gasped at the intrusion and felt your hips buck up in response to being filled. 

Your walls fluttered around his fingers as he began to pump them at a leisurely pace. You felt him make his way down your body to nestle himself between your spread legs and then his hot breath was fanning out over your cunt as his fingers continued to fuck you. “You look so good, pretty girl. Spread open for me like my own personal feast. God you’re so wet. I guess you like to be flogged.” He spoke, the filthy words that left his lips making you wetter than you already were. Without warning he brought his tongue to you and kitten licked your clit, sending a shockwave through your system. 

He took your clit in his mouth and sucked as he continued to work you with his fingers. You fruitlessly tugged against your restraints and bucked your hips in an attempt to get the friction you so desperately needed. 

“God sweetheart you taste better than I imagined.” Steve commented as his tongue lapped up your juices. “I bet I’ll be able to taste you on my tongue for a week.” 

“Fuck, Captain, please can I cum?” You begged, tears wetting the inside of your mask from the intensity of your session. 

“Come for me baby, let me feel you come on my fingers.” Steve commanded and that was your undoing. The knot that had been building inside of you was finally released and you came loudy around his fingers. You felt him lick you through the aftershocks. 

“Talk to me, pretty girl, how are you feeling?” Steve questioned, voice hot once again by your ear. His suit gently pressing against your overstimulated skin. “Give me a color.” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your jawline. 

“I’m good Captain, still Green.” You responded, coming down from your orgasm. 

“Such a good girl for your Captain. You’re doin’ so well pretty girl.” He said as he left the bed. You weren’t sure where he went until you felt his dexterous fingers undoing the ropes on your left leg. “I’m undoing the leg ropes first. And then I’m going to fuck you senseless like I’ve been wanting to do since I saw those damn text messages.” Your spent cunt clenched around nothing, as you eagerly waited for him to undo the other leg restraint. You could hear him undo the many zippers and clasps on his tac suit until the bed dipped and he was once again between your legs. 

This time skin met skin as you felt his upper thighs press between yours as he brought himself closer to you still. You felt the tip of his cock slide between your wet folds before slipping inside. The breath was stolen from your lungs at the feel of him sinking into your waiting cunt. A low moan left your mouth as you felt every perfect inch of him spreading you until he bottomed out and his hips nestled perfectly against your own. 

You felt his forehead press against your own. “Fuck you feel perfect, you know that pretty girl? My perfect little pussy.” He breathed against your mouth as he let you adjust to him. He retracted himself from you fully before swiftly filling you up again. Any noise you may have made was swallowed as he kissed you with a hunger you didn’t think was possible. What started as a slow rhythm quickly changed until he was snapping into you with a fervor akin to a madman. 

Your hips eagerly met his thrusts and soon your combined pants and skin slapping filled the room. Still blindfolded, you felt the moment his hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed just so. That had your walls flutter around him and your hips stuttered. 

“Oh you like that don’t you? You like when I choke you huh pretty girl?” He asked eagerly, his voice husky from moaning. 

“Yes, fuck, please Captain, fuck me.” You rasped out. You grunted as he brought his other hand down to press your hips into the mattress before he slammed into you at a relentless pace. Eventually, his hand left your throat to play with your bundle of nerves. 

“Come on pretty girl. Come for me.” He ordered and you were only too happy to comply. You came hard around him, enough that you saw stars behind the blindfold and Steve let out a string of curses and praises for you as he pulled out of you and you felt his cum paint your stomach. 

You had a moment to catch your breath as you heard Steve pad over to what you assumed was the bathroom. He came back and placed a warm washcloth against your skin, cleaning up the combined mess you both made. Then you felt his hands move up to untie the blindfold around your eyes. You squinted into the low light of the room and were shocked to see Steve bare chested and glistening with sweat before you. 

“Hi.” You murmured shyly, finding that some of your confidence had left you along with the blindfold. Seeing him like this, because of you, because of what you had done, somehow cemented this moment in reality. There was no turning back now. 

“Hi yourself, how do you feel?” He asked as he undid the ropes around your wrists. 

“I um wow, I feel great.” You said and realized it was true. In the afterglow of the scene you felt amazing. Sexy and empowered and utterly spent but undeniably amazing. 

“You did great.” Steve assured you as he took lotion into his hands and massaged the areas on your wrists and ankles where the ropes had been. He placed a gentle kiss on each palm when he was done and went to get you a glass of water. “Drink all of this.” 

You took the glass from his hands and drank deep. Appreciating the cool feeling of the water as it slid down the column of your throat, you didn’t realize how thirsty you had become. You finished the glass and handed it back to Steve, who placed it on one of his bedside tables. 

“Good girl.” He praised and you felt yourself blush in response. He noticed. “Do you like being praised, sweetheart?” 

“Yes Captain.” You nodded. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied as he helped you into one of his shirts and placed you underneath the covers. He rested beside you and wrapped you in his strong arms. “You did so well today for your first time. It wasn’t too much for you was it?” 

“No, I really liked it.” You reassured him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead with a promise to discuss it more after you slept some.

[nctsjiho]

King of Hearts

warnings: none

era: July 2021

❀ Lucas decides it’s time to take JiHo out for her first date

Leaned over the kitchen counter, rolling an orange from hand to hand, JiHo was deeply invested in the conversation she was having with her manager. Not Yebin, but her Esteem manager she was currently living with. The poor piece of fruit had suffered bruises from the few times the young girl had dropped it or tossed it too hard, but JiHo paid no mind as she listened to Sihyun – the manager – talk about the latest gossip in the model and acting industry. Yes, JiHo had the ‘privilege’, or whatever you wanted to call it, to get the insider-scoop about that industry before stuff got public, if it ever went public anyway.

Mid-conversation the two women heard the keypad of their front door beep, indicating that someone was trying to get inside. Usually this would concern the residents, definitely because they were the only ones living in the apartment, but Sihyun knew. She knew JiHo had practically given the password to their house to all her groupmates.

And even though Sihyun wasn’t initially comfortable with 23 men being able to walk inside her house at any given moment, she quickly came to terms with it when all the boys had been nothing but respectful of her privacy and 99% of the time would announce their arrival. The only times they did not announce it was during the early afternoon hours when they knew JiHo would be home alone, or on the occasional moment they would just forget. This time seemed like one of those moments.

“Hello princess!” A loud voice boomed through the apartment from the small corridor. Sihyun who stood on the other side of the counter had a clear visual of the surprise visitor and smiled watching his goofy stance. JiHo however didn’t need to take a look at him to know who the visitor was. “Took you long enough, how many days have you been in Korea already? And you hadn’t visited.” JiHo continued to play with the abused piece of fruit earning a scowl from Sihyun – she knew the girl wasn’t going to eat that orange afterwards and it would be headed straight for the bin.

Soon enough two long, strong arms slithered around the girl’s waist. “I’m sorry, but I’m here now.” JiHo felt her bar stool turn – it wasn’t even a swivel chair – until she was met with a bright smile. She couldn’t help herself but smile back, yet her smile quickly turned into a confused frown when she saw the bag in Lucas’ outstretched hand. “What’s this? A house warming gift? You know it’s a little late for that now.” Lucas just smiled as he shook his head. “We’re going on a date! Now go change.” He pushed the bag into JiHo’s lap.

The girl’s confused expression quickly turned into one of shock, while Sihyun just tried to contain her excited shrieks behind her hands. The 26 year old woman felt like she was watching some sort of K-drama and no one would blame her, since Lucas looked like a handsome main-lead with his hair styled back and wearing a nice pair of jeans along with a crisp looking white button up. Oh how Sihyun wished she could get him to agree to work under Esteem, but he was already successful enough getting modelling jobs without having to look for any. Every clothing brand and fashion magazine in Korea and China had their eyes on him already. Esteem had nothing more to offer to him.

“A date?” The boy – man might be a more appropriate title for him – nodded his head wildly, messing his hair up a bit in the meantime. “Why?” “Because I heard you’ve had a stressful time these past months and so I want you to relax. Plus! I missed you and I want to hang out.” JiHo’s face softened at the confession, but she couldn’t help but feel the nerves flutter in her stomach. “But we can hang out inside and just order some food or something-“ The feigned disappointed shake of Lucas’ head cut JiHo off mid-sentence. “Chenle told me you’ve been playing Valorant every day after your schedules, practise and recordings. It’s time for you to get your butt outside.” Before JiHo could protest a sigh from behind the kitchen counter caught their attention.

Sihyun’s eyes widened as she saw the two young idols look at her, but she quickly regained her composure. “I agree with Lucas. You seriously need to leave this house more.” “I have been! I literally went skateboarding all the time with Yangyang this month.” JiHo defended, yet Lucas faked a cough to grab her attention. “What?” “I’ve heard you haven’t went since that last time when you invited He-“ “Okay! I’ll get dressed, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” JiHo pushed herself of the chair and ran towards her room. Lucas and Sihyun both just smiled knowingly before engaging in a conversation together.

Dresses weren’t completely foreign territory for JiHo, she had worn a handful now for work and she was well aware that her taste in fashion had changed over the past few months. She now wasn’t completely opposed to wearing a dress casually, even though this had not yet happened so far. However, as she looked at the dress she felt her hands get a bit sweaty.

It wasn’t that the dress was ugly, or too revealing. Not at all. It was just that JiHo actually really liked it, she didn’t know how to react. Slipping the yellow fabric over her head, she noticed how the dress fit like a glove, as if it was made for her. It was a silly thought, but somehow JiHo felt like she was having her princess moment right now – which was fitting because this was all thanks to Lucas who liked to call her princess. For once JiHo felt super feminine in a comfortable way and she wouldn’t like to admit it, but she really loved the feeling.

JiHo quickly put on one of the necklaces Lucas had bought her months, maybe even years ago, did her makeup in record time – well the makeup really only consisted of mascara and a lip tint – and made sure her hair looked acceptable to go out. Once finished she walked back to Lucas who was still talking to Sihyun.

“Oh you look so cute!” Sihyun almost squealed causing JiHo to roll her eyes. “I’m ready to go.” The young girl said to catch Lucas attention. He turned his body so he could see JiHo standing beside him. It took a few seconds before Lucas could form the right words to say, taken aback by how different JiHo looked right then. “Wow~ You look even prettier right now.”

The bright smile and breathy words coming from Lucas didn’t fail to make JiHo flustered. She’d already gotten used to Lucas calling her ‘pretty’ and ‘beautiful’ a lot of times and she knew that he meant it every time, but right now the words just seemed to register differently and catch her off guard.

An open hand “harshly” made contact with Lucas’ arm to which he winced. “Let’s just go.” JiHo mumbled going to the corridor where her shoes and bags were located.

Lucas couldn’t stop himself from helping to choose a bag and a pair of shoes for JiHo which he thought would fit best with her outfit. “Where are we even going?” She asked curiously after slipping on a pair of low, cream, sandal-like heels. “It’s a surprise, but we’re definitely getting some food as well and we won’t have to walk too much. So don’t worry.” He teased, but JiHo couldn’t help but smile. “You know me too well.”

To say that JiHo needed this “date” was an understatement; with how she was beaming and laughing nonstop, Lucas could’ve sworn that if JiHo was locked up in her apartment one more day she would’ve completely lost it. He could visibly see how the tension in JiHo’s muscles melted away. The twinkle her eyes held looked so innocent and childlike, as if she was experiencing things for the first time. And as the duo now sat across each other at a table in one of the nicest rooftop restaurants in the area, Lucas couldn’t move his gaze from the everlasting smile on JiHo’s face boosting his pride.

“I didn’t know there was a butterfly garden in Seoul.” JiHo deeply exhaled, thinking back at how beautiful all the butterflies looked up close. “Did you like it?” Lucas asked, awaiting a positive answer. When JiHo’s eyes widened, Lucas started to get slightly worried, but the girl’s passionate answer quickly eased his nerves. “What do you think? I loved it! Every part. The butterfly garden, the café, and now this restaurant.” She then shoved the piece of steak that was on her fork into her mouth, not waiting until she had swallowed it she continued, “I think this is the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

A low chuckle left Lucas’ lips as he watched JiHo chew and swallow the rest of her food. “I should take you out more often then.” He smiled, mostly to himself, but JiHo perked up at his words. “Hm? Why?” Lucas looked up to meet JiHo’s eyes. “I mean, today was great, so yeah I’d definitely wouldn’t mind doing this again. But why would you want to?” “Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this beautifully before.”

At his words JiHo couldn’t help but blush, the comment completely catching her of guard. She wondered how after those years of compliments Lucas managed to make her blush like that, but somehow, today, Lucas had found a way so that any- and everything he said or did would make her feel like a young teenage girl going on a date with her crush.

“You always try to be so professional and even if you have fun and play around sometimes, it’s like you’re always on your toes. Seeing you let go and genuinely be happy, being able to forget about your worries, it looks absolutely stunning on you JiHo.” JiHo looked down at her now empty plate before mumbling, “Did China turn you into a cheesy heartthrob or what’s up with you?” It was barely a question and definitely a coping mechanism – JiHo didn’t know how to react to Lucas sincerity – but Lucas was all for it, laughing at how adorable JiHo looked.

“What? Are you falling in love with me princess?” JiHo looked up with a gasp. “Don’t call me that in public! If someone hears you and recognises us, dating rumours are definitely going to spread and SM won’t be happy.” JiHo scolded, but Lucas could only laugh. She was clearly just trying to avoid the question because she was already very aware that Lucas rented out the whole rooftop for the two of them, no one would be able to hear them. And even if she did forget, with just one glance it would’ve been obvious it was only the two of them there, besides the 2 waiters who were enjoying their own conversation at the bar.

Once the duo had finished their dinner and after they continued talking for about 2 hours afterwards, they headed back to JiHo’s apartment. Luckily all the boys’ dorms weren’t too far away from the apartment, so Lucas wasn’t rushing to get her home or to leave after she arrived safely.

“You really didn’t have to walk all the way up here. You’re acting like we’re in some teenage chick flick.” JiHo smiled as she pushed in the code into her door’s keylock. With that Lucas leaned against the wall next to her – in the most cliché way – while sending her a smile of his own. “Do you not like it?” The keylock dinged at the correct input and JiHo began to push open the door with one hand, the other hand pushing at Lucas’ chest. “Careful or I’ll tell Yuta oppa about this and I don’t think he’d be too happy.” For a second Lucas smile faded as he felt the tiniest bit of fear arise at the though of his hyung’s possible reaction, but his smile returned just as quickly. “I’m sure he won’t after he sees all the pretty pictures I took of you today.”

Again JiHo felt her cheeks flare up just the slightest, but this time purely out of embarrassment. “Don’t show those pictures to anyone.” “But you looked pretty today. And it’s not as if the boys haven’t see you wearing a dress before.” JiHo just shook her head and sent him a warning glare. “But I don’t mind being the only one who’s allowed to see you look this pretty- Ouch! What was that for?” The boy held his arm where he just got pinched.  “For being annoying.”

A pout formed on Lucas’ lips but it quickly got wiped away once JiHo pulled him into a quick hug, making sure the front door didn’t fall back into the lock with her foot keeping it open. “Thanks for today. Thanks for being my prince and taking me out on my first date.” Normally JiHo would cringe at her own words, but somehow every ounce of shame was thrown out of the window now that she was around Lucas. “It really was your first date huh?” He smirked, cocking one brow. “Yeah yeah, now don’t go ‘bragging’ about it to the others, okay?” However Lucas just smirked again as he began making his way to the elevator. “No promises princess!” JiHo hushed him, but he was already inside the elevator, doors closing behind him. “Oh God, Doyoung, Yuta and Kun are all going to kill him.” She mumbled to herself walking into her apartment.

Just as the door closed behind her she heard her phone vibrate. And then vibrate again. Until it just became one constant buzz. Looking at her phone she saw the notifications of the NCT group chat along with the words ‘Lucas and JiHo’ as well as ‘date’ and ‘princess’. Shaking her head in disbelief and deciding to ignore the messages until tomorrow, JiHo mumbled to herself again. “At least if I don’t get to him and kill him first.”

---

Side Note: The only reason that this writing is called ‘King of Hearts’ is for me to tell you that you should listen to that song. Winwin’s vocals 👌 Yangyang’s last verse 👌 Hendery during that live performance of this song in Bangkok (he’s so hot and talented, please stan him)👌 How this song was literally made for Lucas 👌 Yes I’ve listened to it 10+ times on repeat one day and I’d gladly do it again!

Also someone tell me to stop posting every other day, why am I doing this to myself also me feeling writing/creative withdrawal when I don’t post😅 

Have a nice day/evening/night loves 🤍💚🤍