#reader gets forced into an arranged marriage with Yo who turns out to be a very kind and understanding man

[inzenial]

marriage - regulus black

TW: I do not condone or promote forced marriage or any form of abuse or mistreatment in relationships.

This text may contain triggering content for some readers, including references to emotional abuse and coercion.

         ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

I woke up and glanced at Regulus sleeping next to me. I had always known that I would marry a pureblood wizard. My mother had drilled it into me from a young age that marrying well was the most important thing I could do. So when I was told that I would be marrying Regulus Black, I was not surprised. In fact, I was almost relieved that I would not have to go through the process of finding a suitable husband myself.

However, I was not blind to the fact that Regulus did not want to marry me. I could see the disdain in his eyes every time we were forced to be in each other's company. It hurt me that he could not even try to get to know me, but I understood that he had been forced into this marriage just as I had.

But it seemed that nothing I did could change his opinion of me. I tried to be kind to him, but he rebuffed me at every turn. It was clear that he did not want to be married to me, and I could not help but feel hurt by his rejection.

Despite my disappointment, I knew that I had to make the best of the situation. I was determined to be a good wife to Regulus, even if he did not want me. I hoped that one day he would see that I was not the enemy and that we could find some common ground. But for now, I would have to be content with being the wife of a man who hated me.

Regulus was on the other side of the bed just staring at the ceiling as if he hadn't a care in the world. He was silent for a moment before he spoke. "You know this marriage was completely unnecessary, right?"

"But what was the point in them arranging this? You know I hate you, right?" He kept staring at the ceiling.

"Yes, I do. For what reason, the world may never know," you respond, mumbling the last part as you go up to go to the shared bathroom in your bedroom.

"Probably to spite me." He said before slowly getting up and heading into the bathroom as well. He leaned against the wall as he looked at you in the mirror. He stared right through your eyes but it was clear by his expression that there was nothing but hatred towards you.

"What do you want?"

"For you to go away." His voice was a soft but cold as his eyes narrowed at you. You'd never seen him like this before.

"Well, I'm not going away, not for a long time, so maybe stop being so tiresome and just get used to this marriage because, whether you like it or not, you're married to me," you say, on the verge of yelling as you had about enough of him.

Regulus seemed to grow even taller as he stared down at you. 

"I'm the Head of House Black, my family's reputation is everything." Regulus paused before he took another step closer.

"You're telling me to get used to this?"

"Exactly. Good job of getting the point into your thick skull." You responded, still mad at him for complaining and blaming everything on you.

Regulus stared at you before rolling his eyes. "You know why we're married?" He asked.

"To ensure that I continue the Black family line." He was still staring at you. Your breath hitched just slightly as a cold wave washed over you. 

"So?"

"Do you know how children are made?" Regulus' tone changed as he looked down at you. He said as he took a step closer.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm only doing my duty." Regulus answered as he took another step towards you.

"No"

Regulus was silent for a moment. He seemed confused at your answer. "No?" He looked deep into your eyes.

"You understand this is our duty, right?" 

"Yes, I realise that, but I'm not doing it just to please our parents or for me to get pregnant. I'm also not going to do it with someone who hates me." You say this as you place both hands on his chest and push him back slightly.

Regulus took a step back, then let out a sigh. He ran his hand through his hair before looking back at you. He said nothing for a moment, but his eyes seemed to burn you.

"Our family needs a child, do you know what happens if they don't get one?" 

"We'll just tell them that we're trying and that it's taking longer than expected, but until you get over your hatred for me, I'm not doing anything with you." You say this as you move downstairs to make a cup of tea.

"And how do you think they'll respond to that when the time passes and you're still not pregnant." Regulus followed you into the kitchen. It was clear he was angry with you now which almost caught you by surprise.

"Well then, get over your hatred faster," you say with your back to him as you watch the kettle.

Regulus leaned against the wall once again and took a breath before talking. "Have you ever thought of why I hate you?" His tone shifted again.

"Yes, I have, and I cannot come up with a single reason why you do."  You turn to face him.

Regulus seemed to struggle to find the words to say. "I hate you because.. you remind me of my parents." Regulus said after a moment as he looked away from you.

His tone seemed softer now; he seemed sad—not angry, not cold, just sad. When he looked back at you, he almost looked ashamed.

"Our parents forced me into this marriage I did not want, just like how they forced me into everything else." Regulus was silent for a moment.

"Regulus,  I am not your parents; in fact, I'd like to think I'm the complete opposite, and I know you don't like that we're married, but we have to make it work." You say, softly.

He just stood there for a moment before he took a step forward and wrapped you in a hug.

"I'm sorry." He said as he tightened his grip on you. Regulus seemed more like a scared little boy than the man you had previously known.

You sighed and pulled away from him as you heard the screeching noise from the kettle.

"Let me make us some tea." Regulus said as he slowly went to the cupboard and took out two matching tea cups.

"You just sit down." He kept his back facing you while he prepared the tea.

"Thank you," you replied as you took the steaming mug from him.

Regulus took his own mug and sat down across from you.

He looked down at the table in silence for a moment before looking up at you. He took a sip of his drink and waited for you to do the same.

You start to take a sip from your mug, but it's too hot, and you burn your tongue slightly. 

"Fuck," you hiss.

Regulus smiled when you cursed and he couldn't help but chuckle slightly.

"Always wait for the tea to cool first." He warned you.

"Yeah, a bit too late for that." You smiled.

"You know, this is one of the first times I've seen you smile" Regulus took another sip of his tea before his eyes met yours once again.

He stayed silent for a moment before he said, "Do you think we could ever get along?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Can I ask you something?" Regulus' tone was serious as he looked at you.

"Yes?"

"Why did you accept our parent's proposition to marry me?" Regulus' tone was soft once more.

"Because you seemed nicer than the other options my mother presented me."

Regulus was silent for a moment before he sighed. He placed his tea cup down on the table and looked at you properly for the first time.

"Did you know I was going to be so... cold to you?" Regulus seemed to want to ask more questions. He looked almost nervous now.

"No, I didn't, but I got used to it, I guess."

"Why would you get used to it?" Regulus seemed confused. "I've been awful to you this entire time and you're okay with that?"

"Well, I wasn't okay with it, but nothing I said or did would change your mind, so I grew to sort of ignore the words that came out of your mouth."

"I'm sorry that I acted that way towards you, I'm a complete and utter arse." He spoke quickly. Regulus seemed to know full well that he was in the wrong. He had always blamed everyone but himself.

"No one is deserving of the treatment I've given you." Regulus didn't look away from you as he spoke.

"I'm not sure if I could forgive you right away, but this is good progress."

"I don't expect forgiveness. After how I treated you, you owe me nothing." Regulus took another sip of his tea.

In this moment, he didn't seem like a Head of House, he just seemed like a tired and overworked young man.

"I'm getting a bit tired; I think I might go take a nap."

Regulus looked tired as well. His expression seemed almost sad as he looked at you.

"You probably should." He stood up from his seat and picked up his mug.

"I'll get the dishes and then I think I should sleep as well." Regulus said in a more tired tone than you'd ever heard from him.

"Leave the dishes; we'll do them in the morning. You need to sleep too."

Regulus paused for a moment before he slowly nodded.

"Okay, thank you." He placed his mug into the sink then left the kitchen to head upstairs. You could hear him start walking up the steps.

You followed him upstairs to your bedroom. You went to the bathroom to quickly do your skincare routine and found him lying in bed under the covers.

When you walked into the bedroom you realised something. Regulus was in bed, half-covered by the sheets but he didn't appear to be tired, in fact, he was wide awake.

Regulus turned over to look at you and his eyes seemed to sparkle slightly in the dim glow. He stared at you for a moment before asking, "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?" You replied as you laid down next to him.

"Would you hold my hand?" Regulus asked. You could hear the tiredness in his voice.

He wanted you to hold his hand. It was a simple request, but it made something inside your heart flutter just a little.

"Yes, Regulus"  You responded, taking in his hand as you laid down and tried to sleep.

His hand was warm and you were glad to be able to hold it. It made you feel safe in a way you hadn't felt in a long time.

Regulus was silent for a moment before he spoke once again. "Thank you." He turned over towards you so he was facing you while still laying in bed.

Regulus' eyes seemed to close when you took his hand and began to lay down beside him. In only moments, he was fast asleep. It wasn't long before he fell into a dreamless sleep. His grip was slightly tight on your hand.

You lay in bed awake for a few minutes before you slowly fell asleep as well. Regulus was still holding your hand.

A/N : This isn't what I usually write but I went along with it. If you have any requests, send me a message.

-zoe  ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[genshin-impacted]

Exchange of Rings

(Alhaitham x Reader - 6/?) 

You meet the Sumeru crew. Everyone assumes Alhaitham is in love with you. (They're not that off.) OR shampoo + congratulations + fiancé

Word Count: ~5.0k

Notes: afab!reader, second person pov “you”, gn!reader, switches pov with Alhaitham, modern au, arranged marriage, fall first/fall harder, slow burn, ft. everyone in Sumeru (except Nahida) and Cyno's dad jokes

[Previous - Next]

.

.

.

When you got engaged to Alhaitham, you shared the news with your immediate family and closest friends. It makes sense on your part because you hold your loved ones close to your heart, and they had a role in your decision to try an arranged marriage. On Alhaitham's side, his parents and grandmother know– and that's about everyone who does.

It has nothing to do with shame and everything to do with not making a commotion. Alhaitham finds no need to inform his coworkers that he may be a married man at the end of the year, knowing full well they would make a big deal out of it. 

(In their defense, engagements are big deals. Alhaitham being engaged is an even bigger deal. Unfortunately for everyone, Alhaitham understands this well and deliberately does not speak a word unless they ask. Or, alternatively, if you ever ask.

To his knowledge, people often associate public announcements to be a sign of commitment, and the lack of one would indicate otherwise, which is not true for him. To avoid this possible miscommunication down the line, Alhaitham asks you directly whether you care that only his family knows, to which you blink and shrug. 

“Why count the chickens before they’re hatched?” You tell him, patting your face with moisturizer. “This period is a trial run for us anyways, so I get it if you don’t. By the way, I’m going to go buy some more shampoo soon. You want me to get you anything at the shops tomorrow?”)

If possible, Alhaitham would prefer to only do one announcement via invitations to the wedding. Though now that he thinks more about it, even if you are fine with his choice to keep his engagement private, he thinks you’d be happy if he did announce it, if not to the world than at least to people closest to him. As a result, Alhaitham has vaguely thought of telling his friends with a passing comment and leaving it at that. It could work, if he came up with a proper plan– Friday evening where he can avoid any additional questions after his sudden declaration, drop the fact that he has a fiancé. 

It may not be the grand public announcement that many people, possibly including you, would have wanted, but it would be a compromise between not saying a word of his betrothal to you at all.  

Before Alhaitham could enact his plan a few days from now, Dehya forces his hand. 

"Yo, Alhaitham,” Dehya says, sniffing, “did you change your shampoo or something?"

His coworkers are gathered around the communal table with their morning coffee and donuts, courtesy of the cafe downstairs having a crush on Nilou. Alhaitham only passes by the group when everyone turns toward him (and Dehya) quizzically.

“Dehya,” Cyno begins to say, “are you, by any chance, Dracula’s dog?”

Alhaitham turns away to continue his intended route to the office kitchen to grab coffee. Just his luck, the pot is empty, so he has to boil a new one. He starts the coffee machine when he hears Dehya’s confusion. “What are you talking about, Cyno?”

“Because you’re a bloodhound. Do you get it? Because bloodhounds are known for their acute sense of smell and Dracula is a vampire– a mythical creature known to seek out victims for blood-” 

“Ah, Dehya does have a pretty good sense of smell,” Alhaitham hears Nilou pipe up the same Tighnari tells Cyno to stop talking. Alhaitham sets out a cup as the coffee machine churns out its dark liquid slowly. He’s thinking it would behoove him to purchase the office another coffee maker if it would let him leave the communal space faster. Or even purchase a coffee maker just for his office so he never has to come out here. 

Ah, but then if it’s a better machine then everyone would just keep asking him to make the coffee for them (read: Kaveh), so he’d better scratch that idea. 

“Hey, I’m no bloodhound, alright?” Dehya snorts. “I don’t go around sniffing everyone all the time, just to make that clear. I just happened to notice it because it smelled like the same type of shampoo I use.”

“It’s my fiancé's,” Alhaitham says. He takes a sip of the dark roast coffee in his cup, and he does not need to turn around to know that everyone in the room is looking at him in stunned silence. Actually– Alhaitham turns around just to see their reactions: it will be his only source of reprieve before the deluge of questions. 

Tighnari is the first to recover, as expected of him. “I’m sorry, did you say fiancé?” He asks, “We’re using the same definition of fiancé, right?” 

“There’s only one definition for that word,” Alhaitham replies. He starts walking toward the door only to be stopped by Dehya who’s beginning to grin ear to ear. 

“Whoa, whoa, you can’t just drop that type of information on us without any explanation and just leave!” She says, patting Alhaitham on the shoulder. 

“How long have you been hiding this from us, Alhaitham,” Cyno says, clasping his hands at his chin. “A few weeks? Months? Regardless, I believe some details are overdue.”

“Well, first off, congratulations, Alhaitham!” Nilou says, clapping joyfully. “I’m so happy for you!”

“True, it is a cause for celebration,” Tighnari says thoughtfully. “My apologies for not starting with that. Congratulations, Alhaitham. Now, do we know them or…?”

“If I give you ten minutes to answer your questions," Alhaitham says, "will you stop bothering me about it?” 

Alhaitham is sat at the round table with a small audience as he briefly summarizes his situation. No, they don't know who you are. Yes, he’s living together with you. No, he didn’t meet you on a dating app– it was through a matchmaking service. No, it wasn't his idea, but yes, he's planning to see it through. 

This comment pulls an 'aww' from the girls, which he can’t seem to wrap his head around the reason why. Tighnari is quick to explain, eyes thoughtfully watching Alhaitham. "You can't blame them for feeling this way, Alhaitham." Tighnari says with a hint of laughter, "Coming from you, that's as close as we can get from a full-blown confession of love."

"And to share the same hygiene products…" Cyno nods. "Another damning piece of evidence."

"Hey, 'damning' is a bit too harsh for something as joyful as this, isn't it?" Alhaitham hears Tighnari reply with exasperation.

He thinks about telling them that using your shampoo was out of convenience when his own hair products ran out. You had not minded when he asked. In fact, you seemed a little happy when he used it. Now that they've mentioned it, perhaps it's because for the past few days, he's been smelling the same as you. 

Smell is a powerful sense, after all. Alhaitham thinks he might think of you from the scent of citrus alone. 

"I don't see why I wouldn't go through with this, at this point in time," Alhaitham says. "The whole purpose of this is to find someone whose lifestyle is compatible with mine, and it has simply gone according to plan."

"How long have you been living together?" Nilou asks cheerfully, bulldozing through Dehya’s eyeroll at how ‘unromantic’ he was being and the shared look between Tighnari and Cyno.

Alhaitham counts the days left till the end of the contract. "Almost half a year," he says. He hears Cyno mutter under his breath about how Kaveh should have been here, and Alhaitham thinks it was best he wasn't. He would be the most persistent in his questions, not to mention the bemoaning of the unfairness that Alhaitham, of all people, got to end his bachelor life. And then proceed to demand that Alhaitham treat his spouse right (as if he wasn't already doing that).

"Too bad for Kaveh, huh?" Dehya teases, the grin not leaving her face once during this entire exchange. "Finally decided to take a vacation and missed out this bombshell of a conversation. And- oh! I should let Candace know." Dehya says, pulling out her phone, "She'll be so excited for you."

"And I'll text Kaveh," Tighnari says. "Unless you want to do it, Alhaitham?"

"I'd rather you not do it at all," he says blandly.

Tighnari shrugs. "Yeah, I knew you'd say that so I just sent it."

Alhaitham lets out a sigh and stands from the table. He considers getting another coffee but thinks otherwise lest they ask more questions. "Well, if anyone needs me… don't. I'll be in my office-"

A phone rings. All their heads turn to Tighnari. 

"Ah, speak of the devil," Tighnari says, too innocently for Alhaitham's taste. "It's Kaveh."

He doesn't even have a chance to tell Tighnari to not pick up when Kaveh's voice is blaring on speakerphone, loud enough for the whole office to hear. "What do you mean Alhaitham got engaged? For how long?! And he never told us? What the f-"

Cyno quickly presses the speaker button again before looking up at Alhaitham. He doesn't like the gleam in everyone's eyes since he's spoken about you. "Guess the cat's out of the bag." Cyno says somberly, "Now all of Sumeru Co. knows you're married."*

"Engaged," Alhaitham says flatly. "And we still have another six months-"

Nilou clasps her hands together and gasps. "Wait, Alhaitham, you'll invite us to the wedding, won't you?"

"Oh, you better," Dehya says. "I want an in-person invitation."

Alhaitham hears Kaveh's voice going off even off speaker phone with Tighnari filling in the details. Cyno goads him with his knowing look as Nilou gushes about the possible wedding plans and 'oh, please let us meet your fiancé, Alhaitham!'

"By the way, Candace says 'congratulations,'" Dehya tells him. "And she wants to throw a party for you. When did you want to do it?"

Alhaitham wants to take his PTO, effective immediately. 

.

The news spreads like wildfire. Alhaitham’s gotten used to muting all his notifications during work, reachable only through his email. Even then he cannot escape it when Candace sends him a cordial email to say her congratulations and to ask him to "update his emergency contacts and addresses as soon as possible! ^^"

Alhaitham anticipated the gossip, but he did not predict how badly his coworkers (“Friends!” you would correct him cheerily) would want to meet you. Luckily enough, he does spend the majority of a workday in his own office, so he only has to suffer through the pleading when he goes to get coffee. He’s never been more tempted to buy a coffee maker for his own office. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him one night before dinner. The question is asked with concern, but there is a hint of amusement in your tone as you watch him dice the onions with a death stare. “Did something happen at work?” 

Alhaitham pauses in his cutting. “I’ve told my coworkers about you,” he says, glancing at you the moment your eyes widen in pleasant surprise. “They’re quite insistent on getting to meet you.” 

Your amusement is palpable now. “And that’s… bad?”

“Their insistence is tedious,” Alhaitham says dryly. He places the steak on the grill as it sizzles. You inhale the intoxicating smell of seared onions and garlic with a smile that he finds himself almost mirroring. “I offered the opportunity to meet you when the wedding happens, but they seem inclined to think the sooner the better.” 

(‘When,’ you repeat in your head, affection bubbling in your chest. Not ‘if’ the wedding happens, but ‘when’ as though it is already set in stone.) 

When you don’t respond, Alhaitham turns his attention from the stove to you, only to see you smiling widely at him. You tell him cheerily, “Then why don’t I just drop by your work one of these days? If they meet me, they can stop pestering you about it, right?” 

“It’s inconvenient.” Before you can say anything further, he elaborates, “My workplace is at least a twenty-minute drive away, forty minutes round trip. If the purpose is to just stop by and introduce yourself, then the commute is definitely not worth it.” 

"Aww, I can do it!" You say pouting. "It'll be fun!"

"No need."

"It's no trouble, really!"

"It is an immense amount of trouble, actually. Gas prices aren't lowering, you know." Alhaitham plates the food with a thoughtful frown. "You're unusually persistent about this. Something tells me there’s something else.”

You shift your weight. "Well, I’ve always wanted to meet your friends!” Ah, that's why, he thinks. As though you read his mind, you cross your arms and huff. "And we can carpool! Besides, I like driving you around, so it really isn't inconvenient for me at all!"

Alhaitham rolls his eyes, much to your indignance. When you stubbornly block his way from setting the dinner onto the table, he sighs, folding easily into your hands. "I know you don't mind driving me, but we'd have to align our schedules when you're not working and I am."

Your face immediately brightens at his words, though it dims just as quickly. "Do you mind," you start to say, uncharacteristically quiet, "that I meet your friends? It's not weird for you, is it?"

A sudden moment of insecurity from you. It takes him by surprise, but Alhaitham nips this thought in the bud before it can think of growing. "No," he says steadily. Because in the end, when it comes to you– "I don't mind at all." When you look up at him with your smile's brightness turned up to a hundred, he avoids getting blinded by swiftly walking around you to set down the steaks he prepared. "In fact, perhaps it's the best plan to have them stop trying to pull me into their conversations during lunch."

Jokingly, you salute him with an ‘aye-aye, sir!’ and he rolls his eyes good-naturedly as the two of you settle down to dinner. 

.

As though speaking it into existence manifested its occurrence, you have the opportunity to meet his coworkers when his car fails to turn on and you, gleefully, suggest calling a mechanic to look at it after you drive him to work. 

(Things tend to work out for you, though you feel as though Alhaitham is the one that makes it happen one way or another. There is no one that has easily indulged you as much as Alhaitham.)

Neither you nor Alhaitahm are morning people, but for this morning, you are up bright and early, humming as you brew coffee and cook breakfast for the two of them. Knowing how late you ended up sleeping last night (habits are hard to break, after all), Alhaitham watches you, mildly bewildered at how much energy you have at seven in the morning. 

"You seem inordinately excited to meet my coworkers,” Alhaitham says, sipping his coffee as you turn on the car. 

You snort in laughter at his tone of voice. "I just want to meet the people you care about,” you say. Alhaitham cannot find it in himself to make a wry comment about it; your genuine warmth has ways of keeping his scathing words at bay, purposefully or not. You continue to speak as you drive, “So you told them we met through a matchmaker? Just checking that we’re matching stories.”

Alhaitham stares at you, knowing full well you can see him in your periphery. “...You’ve been watching too many dramas,” he says, making you laugh. He barely avoids the hand that swats at him.

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure!” You tell him, huffing. Alhaitham pulls out the book from the car storage cabinet and begins to read as you get onto the freeway. “I don’t know how close you are to your workplace and how much you wanted to tell them…” Alhaitham can’t help a small smile as hears you mumble, “Wouldn’t it be weird if we said different things? Though, it’s not like you’d ever lie about it…” 

The commute is far from quiet, but Alhaitham finds that he does not mind. 

It’s only when he gets to work that he finds that he minds quite a bit when your arrival reminds him of why he’s been avoiding the inevitable meeting between his friends and you. He knows there is no escaping the noise when the first person he sees upon entering the doors of his office is Kaveh. 

“Oh, you’re early for once, Alhaitham,” Kaveh greets him. He looks past Alhaitham at you. “Wait, who’s this?” 

Alhaitham takes a quick glance at you looking ready as ever before saying simply, “My fiancé.” 

You wave cheerily at his coworkers (and friends) as they all stop to stare before the dam breaks. Alhaitham clicks his tongue and goes to clock in as you take meeting his coworkers (and friends) in stride. He doesn’t worry about you; you are more than capable of handling yourself. 

You are not hard to love, after all.

.

.

.

You can tell your fiancé wants nothing more than to put his headphones on and escape to his office, so you pat his shoulder to allow him to walk away unscathed, though he doesn’t leave right away. You would have been fine meeting his friends alone, but you admit that his presence at your side is comforting, even if he hasn’t spoken a single word besides introducing you. He probably finds you more suited to dealing with these questions and you find that you don’t mind at all. 

Apparently, you’ve chosen a good day to visit because you get to meet the entire Sumeru Corporations cast. 

Kaveh must be the pretty blond that has Alhaitham actually speaking, even if it’s to snark at something he’s said. You haven’t heard as many stories about him as you think Kaveh may deserve, mainly because he has been absent from work for a period of time for an extended project and then a much-needed vacation. You think they’re pretty close, despite Alhaitham and Kaveh’s constant bantering. You can see a hint of a smile beneath Alhaitham’s sarcasm.

Knowing Alhaitham’s zero-tolerance policy for people he truly cannot stand, including Kaveh in his stories about work and as a character in his comparisons (though admittedly they all beret Kaveh’s poor decision making) means Alhaitham likes Kaveh. Enough to be his close friend, if not best friend, if you can say so yourself. 

Tighnari is the one to first congratulate you on your engagement. You don’t mean to be taken aback by the warm wishes, but you’re unused to it. Having an arranged marriage the way you did with Alhaitham takes the surprise out of the engagement that any congratulations you expected were to be at the wedding itself. Hearing it from someone, Alhaitham’s friends in particular, has your cheeks warm with pleasant surprise. Fiancé feels like a foreign word on your lips, but the reality settles in that you are Alhaitham’s fiancé, and you are his. It makes you the slightest bit giddy, the wedding a more tangible reality than ever.

Nilou is not far from Tighnari from giving you congratulations. Her joy is infectious, and you find it hard not to match her energy. Just from her tone of voice and the way she carries herself, you can tell that she’s sweet. You secretly hope that she and Alhaitham work together often; you think the dynamic between the two of them would work quite well. That and you think it’s funny to imagine your stoic fiancé with the ever-cheery Nilou. 

Cyno introduces himself with a firm handshake and the most dad-joke you’ve ever heard in your life. Something about his dry delivery and its unexpectedness takes you by surprise, and you laugh, much to the bewilderment of the entire room. You see in your peripheral vision the resigned expression on Alhaitham’s face and feel pleased to know that he knows that these jokes are definitely in your wheelhouse, much to his chagrin. You must be one of the only people in the office who has found Cyno’s jokes funny because Cyno looks at Tighnari with an ‘I told you so’ look that Tighnari refuses to acknowledge. 

(Tighnari also gives you a glance mixed between disbelief and dawning realization, because he supposes if there is anyone that can have Alhaitham fall in love with, it would be someone like you.) 

“They’re a great person,” Cyno says to Alhaitham seriously. “You chose well.” 

“I certainly did not have the ability to laugh at your jokes as part of my criteria for a spouse,” Alhaitham replies dryly, ignoring the smug look that Dehya keeps trying to throw at him.   

“I’m so glad I happened to visit the office today,” Candace says, clasping her hands. Both her and Dehya were equally excited to meet you, and it does not take long until you are pulled into a conversation with her as the others hound Alhaitham, teasing him. You watch with a fond smile as Alhaitham is (unwillingly) surrounded by his closest friends. For a moment the two of you meet eyes ,and you can see a small smile peek through his exasperation that was meant for only you to see. 

You’re smitten. 

“I’m glad,” Candace tells you, a kind smile on her face. “The two of you look happy together. May your marriage be ever lasting and peaceful.” 

“Thank you,” you say. You take another look at Alhaitham and feel your heart squeeze with unbridled affection. “I hope that comes true too.” 

Eventually Alhaitham tells his coworkers that you have work to go to (a lie) and that you have better things to do than entertain them (another lie). Expectedly, they are quick to call him out, though you suppose you didn’t help his case, glancing back at him forlornly like a lost puppy that has him shooting you an exasperated look. 

“Share your fiancé a little, why don’t you?” Dehya complains, putting her hands onto your shoulders and pulling you further from the door. Alhaitham narrows his eyes at your betrayal when you only shrug innocently. “You get to have them all to yourself all the time, what’s fifteen minutes gonna do?” 

“I was thinking we were supposed to be working for the past fifteen minutes,” Alhaitham says.

“Since when were you such an exemplary worker?”

“When has excellence been defined by overtime? I finish what is needed by the time my shift is over.” 

“Since you’re here,” Candace pipes up, ignoring the two's back and forth. She brings a set of files under her arm she got from her office– you wonder when she had left to do so. “I was wondering if you could update Alhaitham’s demographics. I’m sure there are some things that have changed like his address, emergency contact…” You are not mistaken when you hear the twinge of slyness in her voice, and you feel yourself fluster when she giggles. 

Emergency contact, huh? One of his parents must be his current emergency contact, or even his grandmother. You know it is common to have the spouse as the emergency contact, but well, you’re neither Alhaitham’s spouse (yet) nor bothered to concern yourself with what is ‘normal’ or ‘common’ when it comes to your unconventional fiancé. When you open your mouth to say you’re only going to change the address, Alhaitham tells you, “You only need to put your cell number. A work number isn’t necessary.”

“It is very much recommended if you can, but I understand if you can’t!” Candace provides helpfully, though you are still reeling at the permission given to add yourself onto the emergency contacts. You feel as though most would not make such a big deal out of it, but you are embarrassingly pleased at how Alhaitham expects you to be his emergency contact– the first one to be called when he needs it most. 

You write down your number with a sense of great importance. 

“Let me walk you to the entrance,” Alhaitham says once you finish filling out the form, much to your amusement. 

“Hold up, so soon?” Dehya says, grinning. “We didn’t even get to ask your fiancé if you’ve been good to them yet.”

At this, Kaveh scoffs. “That’s for sure. Speaking from experience, Alhaitham was never the best roommate out there.”

“The same could be said with you,” Alhaitham shoots back. “Have you outgrown the habit of doing DIY projects until dawn or have your neighbors finally grown tired of filing noise complaints?” 

“You-! At least I don’t leave a mess everywhere I go!” 

“Do you mean his books?” You ask, and you try not to fidget when they all turn to you. “He used to leave them in a lot of places, but he’s been really good at putting them in his bookshelves when he’s done.” You laugh. “I think he’s just afraid I’ll spill some food onto it.” 

At this, Kaveh gives Alhaitham a long look that Alhaitham returns equally. “I guess even marriage changes people like Alhaitham, huh?” He comments with a hint of amusement. 

“I have a question!” Nilou says, raising her hand. You can’t help but smile at the gesture. “Are those baubles in Alhaitham’s office gifts from you?”

You blink. “The what?”

“Oh, you mean the drinking bird and Newton's Cradle?” Tighnari asks. “They appeared suddenly one day, and I’ve been wondering if he purchased it himself, but now that I think about it, of course he didn’t.” 

You remember buying those gifts for Alhaitham, but when you didn’t see them at home, you assumed he stored them away; out of sight, out of mind, after all. Whatever Alhaitham wanted to do with your gifts is to his discretion, but the fact he brought them to work to decorate his (most likely) minimalist desk makes you a little happy. 

“Wasn’t there a small dish with a few marbles in them too?” Cyno comments. When he shares a look with Tighnari, his smile grows. “I remember them showing up the same time as the other two…” 

“I got those for him too,” you say. “I thought they looked like the color of his eyes.” You vaguely hear Nilou and Candace coo at your words, but you only have eyes for Alhaitham. “I didn’t know you had them here,” you say, warmth seeping into your voice. 

For a moment, Alhaitham opens his mouth without saying a single word. It is only a momentary lapse, but you grin up at him when it happens, spotting the hint of color on his cheeks. “If I had thrown them away, you would have noticed them in the trash,” Alhaitham says, and you have to admit the man has an impressive recovery rate.

“Oh yeah,” you say lightly, and you can see the dawning realization on Alhaitham’s face as he sees what you intend to say next. “Like that inflatable boyfriend I got you-”

Kaveh laughs suddenly as though it was surprised out of him. “What-?” He wheezes. “Are you talking about those-”

“I ended his misery before he could come to full fruition,” Alhaitham says flatly, and you can’t help but laugh with the rest of his friends. “I was merciful. He should be grateful to me, actually.”

(What happened to never needing thanks from anyone? Kaveh thinks, his shoulder shaking from the residual laughter as Alhaitham finally successfully wrangles you from the office’s grasp and toward the exit. Kaveh watches as the two of you talk to each other easily, your smile never leaving your face as you look up at Alhaitham and Alhaitham’s hand not once letting go of yours as he guides you.

He is gentle with you, Kaveh notes, and he wonders if you realize how you are possibly one of the only people in the world to have been allowed to see this side of him. 

Kaveh was joking earlier, but he was a little serious too, that marriage has changed Alhaitham just the tiniest bit. Or not marriage specifically, he thinks. Love is a more powerful motivator, and he knows full well that Alhaitham is as susceptible to emotion as anyone else, even if he pretends not to be.

He wonders if he’ll be allowed to have a say in the wedding decorations.)

.

.

.

For both your sake and his (though mainly his), Alhaitham prevents you from getting held back by his friends and walks you out as far as it’s allowed without leaving the building. He realizes that this is one of the few times that he has held your hand, and he knows you don’t mind when you squeeze his hand as the two of you walk past the receptionist. It feels as equally novel as it is natural, and Alhaitham knows immediately this is something that the two of you will get used to doing very quickly. 

Alhaitham hears you laugh to yourself again and he huffs in amusement. “You seem happy,” he says. When you nod in agreement, he continues, “I’m sure you probably have a lot of reasons, but can I ask why anyways?”

You smile up at him, beautiful as always. Alhaitham feels his chest tighten for a moment, and it is gone as fast as it came. “You told them I was your fiancé,” you tell him with a hint of bashfulness.

“Yes,” he says, “because you are.” 

At this, you just shrug, the smile never leaving your face. “It’s just nice to hear, is all.” He feels you squeeze his hand again before letting go. “Alright, well, I’ll see you later tonight when I pick you up?” 

Alhaitham opens his mouth to speak but finds that it takes him a moment to say something, distracted by how his heart picked up its pace for seemingly no reason at all. “Yes, I get off at exactly five, so whenever you can come around that time would be fine.” 

“Okay,” you say. The two of you stand face-to-face and for a moment it looks as though you had tip-toed to do something but changed your mind. Your lips press together into a complicated smile before you shake your head. “See you then!” You tell him before he can understand what you meant to do. 

Alhaitham watches as you walk to your car. When you turn back to look at him (somehow, he knew that you would) and wave, he feels his heartbeat loudly in his ears.

.

.

*Mulan reference: "Now all of China knows you're here."

.

.

taglist:

@crowbird @thetwinkims @jaguarthecat @kibbly-bibbly @tanspostsblog @dxstopiaa @theprinceofkhaos @homeinhobii @nagisuterus @sleep-deprivedracoon @scentedcandlesandcookies @secretlyrexlapis @yoimyas @teapartyspilled @herbal-tea-and-manga @quintessentialdreaming @detectivesparrow @certaindreampost @kazuharem @pixelsocs @nekogakuro @escapeis @loki-zos-galvus

[readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure]

Congratulations to (almost) 500 followers! 🥳 Let the fun begin. I'm curious about L & 12 for the precious Darkling. Maybe the darkling never admit his feelings for the reader and now it seems like it is to late for any confessions... Thank you for the opportunity for this special prompt game. 🥰

Thank you. And thanks for all the support you have given me over the past few months. 🥰

I had my outline for this one almost finished before I realised you probably wanted one where the reader is arranged to marry someone else, making the Darkling think it's too late to be with her. But unfortunately my brain had already gone down a different road, and this plot bunny had already made residence with no hope of getting rid of it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end result, even if it is different from what you were expecting. As you say, let the fun begin!

---

L. Arranged marriage 12. ‘I’m trying to help you, dammit!’

Kirigan watched as you hopelessly tried to clasp the necklace behind your neck. It was a fiddly little thing, and you had been trying to put it on for the last five minutes to no avail. He had offered to take care of it for you, but you had just about bitten his head off when he so much as stepped close to you.

Not what he had ever envisioned married life to be like, but then again, yours wasn’t a normal marriage.

Two months ago, the King had announced to Kirigan his plans to marry off his niece to a suitor of his own choosing. One month after that, the two of you had been married.

The worst part was that Kirigan genuinely loved you. He had done for ages. Your position in the Grand Palace meant that the two of you had met frequently, and you had developed a mutual respect. Some would even call it a friendship. And you were just so… kind. And cheerful and beautiful and smart and a million other things that made falling in love with you impossible to resist.

He had never admitted his feelings, however. You were not Grisha and he would lose you in the end, so he had preemptively shielded himself from that pain.

And now it was too late to change his mind. He doubted you would ever love him now that you had been forced to his side. You wouldn’t even let him put a damn necklace on you.

‘Please, milaya,’ he said. ‘Just let me do it for you.’

‘I told you not to call me that!’ you snapped as you once again failed to loop the chain into the clasp. ‘I don’t need you.’

‘I’m trying to help you, dammit!’ he snapped back. He regretted it immediately, but there was only so much of your stubbornness he could take. ‘Why must you fight me on every little thing?’

You put down the necklace and then turned to face him, eyes narrowed and full of righteous anger. ‘What did you expect?’ you seethed. ‘For me to be an obedient little wife? Someone who is happy to be nothing more than a pawn in some political chess match. Well, tough. I am neither of those things and I will continue to make sure you don’t forget it.’

‘I am not responsible for this,’ said Kirigan through gritted teeth. ‘The marriage was your uncle’s idea. Not mine.’

‘But you still accepted,’ you said, surprising him. He hadn’t realised you had known about that part. ‘My uncle gave you the choice. You could have said no to the whole thing. But you didn’t.’

‘Because then he would have given you to someone else!’

That, you hadn’t known about, judging by your shocked expression.

At your fearful look, he sighed and lowered his voice. ‘The King had a whole list of possible suitors for you. I was just at the top of it. He would have let them do what they would with you as long as he got an advantage out of it. I know I am not who you would have chosen for a husband, but I couldn’t let something like that happen to you.’

You may have shared a bed, but Kirigan had never touched you. And he never would, not without your consent.

He doubted the other men on the list would have had the same reservations.

‘Why not?’ you asked in a small voice. Kirigan wasn’t sure if he was saddened or insulted.

You must have realised how your question had sounded, because you soon rephrased it. ‘I mean, why do you care so much that you would make such a sacrifice for me?’

He would have liked to have been able to say that it was for completely selfless reasons, but that would have been lying. You weren’t totally unjustified in your anger towards him. He did have completely selfless reasons… but he also couldn’t stand the thought of you being someone else’s wife.

‘How could I not?’ he asked instead. When you didn’t answer, he held his hand out. ‘Please, milaya. Let me be a proper husband for you. Let me help. That’s all I want.’

You stared at his hand for a moment before you picked your necklace back up and carefully placed it in his palm. You turned around, baring the back of your neck to him.

He fought the temptation to bend down and kiss it.

Instead, he draped the necklace around your throat; no more and no less than what he had offered to do.

‘I would have chosen you,’ you said suddenly, making him fumble with the clasp.

He got it secure on the second try, but he didn’t step back, frozen in place by your words. He met your eyes in the mirror in front of you and saw the same longing that was in his own.

How had he ever missed it?

You turned, bringing you both chest to chest, so close that you were sharing the same air. ‘If I had known you cared so much, my uncle would not have had to put you on a list.’

His response to that was to crash his lips to yours, pouring all his hope, longing, and fears into the kiss. It was only a second before you were returning it with equal passion.

Maybe it wasn’t too late after all.

[robynlilyblack]

How to hijack a wedding

Sirius Black and fem! reader

[Requested – see request here]

Summary: Y/n and Sirius bonded over their similar family history and disownment over being sorted into Gryffindor, but when Y/n parents force her to marry regulus out of spite they come up with a plan

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

A/n: 1k words, this is completely ridiculous and I love it so much x

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist 

You wrapped your arms around Sirius neck from behind, pressing kisses to his neck and hearing him let out a pleased sigh, leaning into your touch

“Hello darling” he greets you, one hand moving up to cup yours while the other continues to sort through your mail

You smile into his neck “Missed you” you mumble into him, placing a lingering kiss

“Missed you too” he squeezes your hand

Pushing your nose into his skin, you look at what he’s doing “Anything good”

He bobs his head “Define good” he holds up a letter with your families seal

You remove yourself from him and take it, hopping onto the table “One of two things is in this” you break the seal but don’t open it fully just yet “Either they’ve seen the error of their ways and are apologising, or they’ve died” you say simply

Sirius chuckles moving in front of you as you begin reading, hands running up and down your thighs

When you finish reading you bite back a laugh “They die?” Sirius jokes semi seriously

You shake your head “They’ve arranged my marriage” you can’t hold back the giggles any longer

He looks at you amused “Who’s the lucky fellow?” he asks

Both of you knew this could happen, contracts for marriages where drawn up the day you were born, it made sense they would try to make you go through with it

“Guess” you raise your eyebrows

He looks in thought for a second before he hears the floo network followed his brother stepping out of it, didn’t take him long to put it together “Well hello my girlfriends’ husband” he greets

Regulus laughs “See you already met my future wife” he continues along with the joke as do you

“Hello husband this is my toyboy” you gesture to your boyfriend

Sirius barks a laugh “Hell yeah I’m her toyboy…actually darling that doesn’t work if I’m older than you”

“Roleplay?” you suggest with a shrug

“You’ve ruined it now” Regulus fake gags “Imma be sick then we can come up with a plan on how to get out of this”

"Oh we aren't gonna do that"

The day of the wedding came quickly. Sirius of course was invited and made Regulus’ best man, while your other friends were all banned, none attending…or so your parents thought

Regulus turned to Sirius at the music started, both giving each other a look before turning to door. You entered with your father, smiling at Regulus but your focus was on Sirius, seeing his look of pure adoration and the smile edging on his face, eyes glassy

Your eyes flicked to the mister briefly who was smiling at you before you turn to your father as he gives you away “Don’t fuck this up” he hisses at you with a forced smile then moves to take a seat beside your mother and Sirius’ parents

You could have laughed there and then but you kept a straight face continuing with the wedding, everything going the way it was supposed to until the crucial moment

“If anyone knew why the couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace”

Silence

It surprised your parents that Sirius didn't speak but then they just smirked, their cruel plan to make all of their children suffer was working 

Sirius met your eyes giving you a little wink before the mister continued “Do you Regulus taken Y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?” 

“I do”

“And do you Y/n take…” the minister coughs “Forgive me” he apologises “Do you Y/n take…” another cough “One second I don’t feel so well” the minister turns away and continues coughing

You glance at your parents, they look less than impressed making you, Regulus and Sirius smirk

“Phew thought I was a goner there” the man says, Regulus stepping a little closer to you, blocking the man from your parents view “Let’s take this from the top then…do you Y/n take Reggie the cutest man in existence to be your husband?”

Regulus cheeks heat up, while Sirius chuckles “Hello no” you announce, but there is are only four gasps

“Y/n!” your father screeches trying to stand up but he can’t “Why can’t I…what did you do?”

Walburga looks furious as she and Orion can’t stand either, your mother growing angry and trying to shout but nothing comes out

“That’s better” Bellatrix stands but her face slowly morphs into Marlene shaking her head “Merlin that lady has a lot of hair”

“You’re telling me” Narcissa stands up, face morphing into Dorca “I think you should stay the blonde my love”

The guests slowly morphed into all of your friends, who knew something as simple as Polyjuice could cause such a riot. The real guests were currently sitting in an empty venue, after someone put the wrong address on their invitations…how unfortunate right?

You turn back to James “Well now that’s over let’s get to the real wedding, shall we?” he looks between you and Sirius

Sirius exchanges places with his brother “Ready?” he asks warmly 

“Ready” you nod with the brightest smile “Quick version” you remind James

He laughs “Of course future sister” he grins, as does Regulus, he then looks at your parents “Does anyone object to this marriage?” he mocks them 

Your parents look in a mix of horror and shock while the rest of you giggle

“Now, do you Sirius, take Y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife”

“I do” he says without hesitation, looking in your eyes

James does a little dance in excitement, Regulus holding out his hand to keep him calm enough to finish “Do you Y/n, take Sirius to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do” you say with tears of joy in your eyes

“Then by the power invested in me by the…ugh muggle people on that computer Lils showed us…I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride”

You and Sirius waste no time engaging in a barely safe for work kiss and all of your friends cheer, while yours and his parents watch in complete misery, still unable to move nor speak

“You know Remus also got ordained” James whispers to Regulus

Regulus pecks his cheek “We aren’t there yet…” James pouts at him fluttering his eyelashes “…oh fuck it lets really piss them off…Remus!”

Thanks for reading 💛

[teakookssi]

Before I Leave You [Eren/Levi x Reader FF]

[ curated playlist ][ full story can be found here or here ]

[Overview & prologue]

➺ pairing: levi ackerman/eren jeager x fem!reader

➺ status: continuous

➺content: mafia au, crime, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, angst, lol so much angst

➺warnings: SHIT. IS. DARK. YO. violence, blood, strong language, guns/weapons, and illegal activities are all mentioned but hey, that’s attack on titan for you, so if you can handle that, you can handle this (:

Chapter 1: what a young girl should not know

They say some memories never leave you. That if you carry them with you long enough, they become a part of you forever, haunting you until you can no longer remember who you were before them — if you were ever you at all.

As you draw your eyes open and feel the faint traces of your memories from that day still lingering through your mind like a dream refusing to fade, you entertain the element of truth behind such words.

You try to blink away your sleep, but fragmented images of that day continue to flash through your head. A blue, cloudless sky overlooking your eight year old self, purple bellflowers dancing against the breeze as you pick them out of your family garden’s estate, armed men with police badges raiding your home, your mother’s face morphed in horror as she runs to protect you, and her blood, splattered across the bellflowers in your garden as her unmoving body lands with a sickening thud at your feet.

Your memories of that day harbor only pain and heartache, yet you refuse to let them go.

As a child, they tormented your dreams. You’d wake up screaming, with tears in your eyes, calling for a mother who would never come.

But your father was quick to take care of that, refusing to let his first and only child succumb to such crippling behavior.

By the age of ten, he had taken all those tears of yours and turned them into rage. He had rid you of all your soft edges and forged you into a weapon, replacing your grief and sorrow with a hungry need for vengeance.

He’d armed you with purpose.

Your half-lidded eyes slide over to your gun waiting patiently for you on your bedside table, along with your knife and blades. All weapons he had gifted you over the years.

Throwing your covers aside, you move to get up, noticing how strong the sun’s rays are already peeking behind the emerald green curtain from your window. You make it as far as the side of your bed before you are forced to hunch over with a groan.

“Fuck,” you hiss as you press a hand against your head, the morning hangover finally settling in.

In honor of Sasha’s birthday the day before, you’d treated her and the rest of your team and bought out one of the most luxurious restaurants in town for the night, where you’d divulged in more than your fair share of drinks with them in celebration.

You knew your cadre were still mourning for Marco, but this life didn’t allow you time to grieve. You either carried on with it or you let it consume you. And your team was damaged enough as it is so neither were acceptable choices for them. So you offered them an outlet to help drown their sorrows, ordering bottles and bottles of rum, whiskey, bourbon, vodka; and by joining along with them, they could not refuse.

You sit on your bed for a moment with your elbows resting on your knees and your head in the palm of your hands, waiting for the throbbing headache to subside.

For a brief moment, you feel the weight of exhaustion lie heavily over your shoulders. The temptation to rest against it, alluring and sweet like poison.

But that image of your mother’s blood spread out all over the flowers in your garden still burns vividly in your mind and you raise your head. A steely look of determination visible in your eyes as you stand and reach for your gun.

You pop the barrel open and give it a spin as you check your bullets before locking it back in place with a satisfying click. You tuck it into the holster under your arm and move on to your blades, placing them discreetly throughout your person.

Every morning you revisit that day in your memories, sharpening them as you would your blades so they don’t dull and fade. All the pain, and fear, and suffering they wake inside you, you latch onto like an anchor. You let it fuel you. Serving you as a reminder of what was done to you all those years ago. Never letting you forget that there would be no rest for you until you made every last one of those men responsible for your mother’s death suffer the way you suffered.

This is how you carry your mother’s memory of that day.

This is how you survive.

For ten long years you’ve let them feed your vengeance, keeping your seething rage burning and alive. But there are days — more frequently now than you care to admit — where you wish you could just wake up and not feel anything at all.

—

By the time you make it out your room, your headache still hasn’t ceased, and that’s as far as you’re willing to put up with it.

Had Levi been home he would have made you one of his special tea’s he prepares for you for mornings such as these, always leaving it at your bedside table for you to drink when you wake up. But seeing as how there was nothing there for you this morning is enough to tell you he isn't here.

So you go in search of the next best thing.

Making your way down the stairs, you remain grateful for the dark wood paneled walls and dimly lit hallways this place provides. Though it’s nowhere near as grand as your family estate in the countryside, it’s spacious enough to room Levi, his two most trusted guards, your cadre and you.

Originally, your father had gifted the place to you and your fiancée as an early wedding present. And, given the townhouses from Trost Lane were one of your father’s many owned properties across town, he’d provided the house next door to Levi’s men and yours as a means for them to keep a close eye on you both, while still granting you with a fair amount of privacy at home.

But with you and Levi always out conducting different business meetings for your father, you hardly ever see your fiancée. You spend more time with your cadre over the course of the day that they’re the ones practically living here instead.

As you reach the bottom of the wooden stairs and pass the foyer, you overhear Sasha and Connie arguing from the main dining room table over the last piece of leftover cake from the night before.

Their bickering abruptly stops the second you step into the room, but when you pay them no attention they resume their squabbling.

Albeit, under more hushed tones.

Jean and Historia sit at the far end of the table, talking amongst themselves with — based on the overwhelming smell coming from the kitchen — a freshly brewed coffee in hand.

Jean notices the way your hand presses against your head and grins.

“Morning, sunshine,” he teases.

You flip him off and walk past them to cut through to the adjacent room where your mini bar is located and where Mikasa stands on the lookout by the window.

“I need a drink,” you grumble. “Where’s Levi?”

“With your father,” Mikasa informs you, leaving her position to report to you. “His meeting with the suppliers from Marley was this morning.”

You hum under your breath as you faintly remember Levi mentioning something similar a few days ago, and of course, as CFO of Ymir & Co, his presence was mandatory.

You’re about to take a step towards the bar when Historia appears from the other room carrying a cup of coffee in hand.

She offers it to you with a warm, shy smile. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”

You wrinkle your nose at the smell, and wave it away with a flick of your hand. The strong roasted smell of it upsets your stomach, but Historia hasn’t been with you long enough to know that coffee is the last thing you’d ever drink to get over a hangover.

Turning back to the mini bar, you start rummaging through your collection of scotch, whiskey, and bourbon.

Only to find them all empty.

You slam the doors to the shelves shut with such force you’re surprised they don’t fall off their hinges.

“Stupid brat had one job!” you exclaim in frustration.

You had told Sasha to find a kid adequate enough to keep tabs on your stash of alcohol and make sure it never ran low. Clearly that was too much to ask of them both.

“I better not see that kid’s face here again, Sasha!” you shout over your shoulder, knowing full well that with Sasha’s impeccable hearing, she knew exactly what you were talking about.

The clashing of kitchenware goes quiet at the dining table with a soft whimper at your warning.

“No, Miss!” comes her muffled voice from the other room, no doubt from the amount of food stuffed in her mouth.

Surely enough, seconds later, you hear Connie scolding her and patting her on the back as she starts choking. “Oi! Sasha! Chew your damn food first!”

Historia and Mikasa run to go check on them and you let out an exasperated sigh.

You don’t have the energy to deal with them like this so early in the morning with the state you’re in so you strut for the front door just as Jean walks into the room to join you.

“Where are you going?” he asks as you walk right past him.

“To get a bloody drink!” you exclaim, snatching your coat lying on a chair on your way out.

He follows you to the door. “It’s nine thirty in the morning. Don’t you think you had more than enough to drink last night?”

You ignore him and slide into your coat as you open the door to step out. You’re about to shut it behind you when you meet resistance.

You turn with a frown and see Jean’s hand holding back the door, preventing you from closing it.

You glare at him before releasing the doorknob. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

The pub you and your cadre like to frequent, Red Rose, is literally just around the corner. Everyone in town knows this, which is why many people steer clear of it, so as to avoid stirring any kind of trouble with you.

But Jean simply shrugs and gives you a grin. “Need to stretch my legs.”

You notice his tone is chipper, but the light in his eyes is still not quite there, and you know, the grief he carries for his fallen friend, he’ll carry forever.

Over his shoulder you see Mikasa silently adjusting her coat and closing the door behind her.

You roll your eyes in annoyance but know better than to waste your breath on them. The two of them were going to follow you anyway.

So you walk off with a huff, hating how since the moment you woke up this morning, things have not been going your way.

It serves as a great indication; today is not going to be a good day.

—

“I still think you should have brought along the rest of them,” Mikasa sulks behind you as you lead the way down the street in the direction of the pub.

You bark out a laugh, gesturing to the way the townsfolk are quick to clear a path for you at just the mere sight of you. “And tarnish my reputation as their beloved Reaper?”

Mikasa frowns at your flippancy, but you don’t drop the smug grin from your face, because not even she can deny the strong reaction you elicit out of people.

You have a naturally piercing, siren-like gaze that evokes fear and intimidation with ease, but it is not the main reason the townsfolk cower at your presence.

People do not lay a finger on you because they fear what your father, the most dangerous crime boss in the underworld, would do to them.

They fear what you would do to them.

And given all the various nicknames the people of this town have coined you over the years — Dark Reaper, Angel of Death, Death’s Messenger — and the rumors that preceded you, it was more than understandable.

The amount of times you’ve heard people whisper your name as you pass them by, wiping the blood of your enemies clean from your hands, saying you sold your soul away so you can’t be killed... Or that you serve as Death’s messenger, bringing death and destruction wherever you tread, with your guns, your blades, your bare hands.

They say you fear no one. That Death fears you.

As the daughter of a power-hungry and vicious man, who has trained you amongst the most lethal and ruthless of killers since you were a child, they’re not too far off.

Unfortunately, Mikasa is immune to your threatening charm. Just as you’re about to turn the corner, she steps in your way, forcing you to come to a halt.

You roll your tongue against the side of your cheek in open annoyance. People were really testing your patience today.

“Oi, Mikasa,” Jean chides, tensing at her abrupt behavior and trying to pull her away, but she resists and holds her ground.

She uses her two inch height difference to her advantage, forcing you to drag your steely eyes to meet her unflinching gaze.

“You just declared war on two crime gangs less than forty eight hours ago,” she reminds you under her breath, eyeing the people walking by suspiciously. “Not to mention the long list of enemies you already had before. You can’t keep strolling across town out in the open like this.”

You rest a hand on your hip impatiently, scratching your brow idly with the other. “Mikasa,” you caution carefully, “you really don’t want to be standing in front of me right now.”

As much as you understand why she’s on edge, you don’t want the townsfolk to notice things are tense amongst the crime bosses of Paradis. The people here treat your family like royalty because they know there are worse people out there, and it’s your family—not the Crown and its police force—willing to protect them from these dangerous outsiders. And the support of the people, as your father had once said, was imperative to his growing power and influence amongst the privileged and elite.

It’s why you’d made such a show of the dealing with Bertholdt the other day. You wanted the people of this town to see that House Ymir remained as strong and untouchable as ever. That if anyone dared oppose you and your family, they would be punished accordingly and without mercy.

But either Mikasa does not hear the measured sound of your voice or she chooses to ignore it. “Everyone knows you favor this pub,” she presses on. “At least go to Hart Sina for today while we assess any potential threats around town. There’s more of your father’s men stationed in that area who can—”

You take a menacing step towards her.

“If you think I will cower away and hide from my enemies,” you say with narrowed eyes, “than you don’t know me at all.”

You move to step past her.

“Anya—”

“Enough, Mikasa,” Jean cuts her off in warning. “Stand down.”

But the desperation in her voice makes you pause.

You turn to glimpse at her over your shoulder. “Every day I wake up with Death looming over my shoulder,” you say in reminder. “Today is no different.”

The amount of frustration radiating off Mikasa would have any sane person running, but you don’t acknowledge her further and continue forward. You’re in a foul mood as it is. You don’t need her testing your patience with all her incessant worrying.

You hear her follow after you reluctantly a moment later and when you arrive in front of the pub, she eyes the rooftops above.

“I’ll scout the area,” she announces curtly before turning to Jean. Don’t leave her side, her eyes seem to tell him before parting.

He nods in understanding and joins you close behind as you enter the Red Rose.

The buzzing ambience of the bar goes momentarily quiet at your arrival. It isn’t until you make your way to the counter for a drink that conversations resume as the men drinking at their tables nod respectfully to you as you pass.

You hardly notice them, though. Your attention is elsewhere.

A young man, not much older than you, with short brown hair and bright green eyes stands behind the counter. He appears overly smitten by you, following your every move like a love-struck school boy with his mouth partly open as you take a calculated seat in front of him.

He’s a face you don’t recognize. And neither does Jean, based on the way his body goes on alert the second he spots him. But it's the look beneath that infatuated gaze of his that unsettles you the most.

He’s looking at you in a way you have never been looked at before. So tender and pure… like you can do no wrong. A look without fear or hatred. And it hits you harder than it should. The realization that he doesn’t know who you are.

“A bottle of whiskey,” you tell him as you look around for the owner of the pub. “Where’s Hannes?”

When the bartender doesn’t move or speak, your sharp gaze cuts to him dangerously. You’ve waited this long for a drink. Just how much more did you have to bloody wait?

Your piercing eyes are enough to snap him out of his daze, but he grows deeply flustered, most likely embarrassed that you have caught him staring at you so openly.

“Oh! Uh, sorry,” he stumbles out. He fidgets with the cup of glass he had been holding, as if unsure what to do with it. “Um…”

You and Jean exchange dubious glances as you both watch him nearly drop it a couple times and then turn to run his eyes over the many bottles behind him.

You curse under your breath and rest your elbow on the counter to massage your temple, feeling the throbbing ache in your head return the longer you go without a numbing drink in your system.

“Whiskey, mate,” Jean grits out impatiently. “She asked for whiskey.”

“Whiskey, yes,” the bartender repeats, reaching for the bottle you requested. He places the empty glass in front of you and pours the drink for you, though you don’t miss the way his hand shakes nervously in front of you as he holds the bottle.

He sees you noticing. “I’m fairly new,” he admits sheepishly. “This is my first week.”

“You don’t say,” Jean comments dryly.

You down the drink in one go, feeling the burn run down your throat and letting it overpower the headache.

You gesture for the bartender to hand you the bottle, not at all satisfied yet, and you pour yourself another shot. You feel his eyes on you as you drink, completely mesmerized by your presence, before you catch him flickering his gaze over to Jean standing beside you, who has turned away to scan the crowd.

“Is your boyfriend —” the bartender begins gingerly, trying to identify your relationship with your male companion.

But at the word boyfriend, Jean turns to him with a frown and the bartender clears his throat, diverting his question.

“Can I get you anything?” he asks Jean instead.

Your guard scoffs and turns away, already annoyed with him. It's obvious this new bartender fancies you so Jean knows where this is going, and would much rather have you do the honors of putting this hopelessly love-sick boy in his place.

But there’s enough alcohol in your system now. The agitation has worn off. You’re all but mellowed out.

You trace a finger around the rim of your glass mindlessly, feeling playful.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you tell the pretty green-eyed boy in front of you, watching as his shoulders sigh in relief at the news.

Beside you, Jean studies you curiously from the corner of his eye, but makes no comment about your behavior.

You don’t usually entertain a man’s interest in you, mostly because many are too afraid of you to even try. Or because they know you are already spoken for—Levi is as dangerous and intimidating as you, after all. But there’s something about this boy that refuses to let you walk away just yet.

“What’s your name?” you ask him.

His lips break out into a bright smile that lights up his whole damn face. It almost makes you falter as you fight back a flinch.

“Eren,” he tells you. “Eren Yeager.”

“Eren Yeager,” you repeat, mulling over his name.

You serve yourself another glass, wanting to wash away the inexplicable amount of pain his wholesome presence is doing to you.

“Tell me, Eren Yeager, have you ever killed anyone?”

The smile on his face immediately fades, taken aback by your question. He wants to think you’re joking so he lets out a nervous chuckle. But your face remains blank and a tense silence follows soon after.

You almost lament the moment it happens as he begins to realize there is something off about you as he glances over at Jean and finally notices the gun peaking out of his coat.

His wide eyes flicker back to you, noticing you’re waiting for a response. He swallows.

“No…” he answers you warily.

“You an outlaw, then?”

Eren slowly shakes his head.

“A thief?”

He lets out another nervous chuckle, as if still wanting to believe you’re just messing with him for some reason.

“No.”

“Perhaps he pissed off someone he shouldn’t have?” Jean offers.

You shake your head ruefully and answer in Eren’s stead. “No,” you say as you take another swing at your drink, his answers only depressing you even more despite you having already predicted them. “No, he didn’t.”

Eren’s eyes dart from you to Jean with apparent confusion. “I’m sorry? I don’t —”

Just then a man with short blond hair and deeply defined lines across his forehead appears from the backroom. His eyes widen at the sight of you and quickly shoos Eren away, sending him off to clean some tables on the other side of the room.

Eren leaves, but not without stealing a glance back at you with a warm, charming smile.

“Anya!” the man greets you over-enthusiastically. “You’re um—you’re here early.”

Your expression is calm, but your voice is strained as you revert your attention back to the owner of the pub. “Who is he, Hannes?”

Hannes grimaces. “Was hoping you wouldn’t notice him.”

You give him a pointed look. Eren stuck out amongst the crowd like a lone hare inside a den of wolves. ”He has no business working here.”

Hannes scratches his head nervously. “I know, but I felt bad for the kid. He just moved into town and needed a job. No one else will hire him ‘cus he doesn’t really look like he’s gonna last them very long—so I figured it wouldn’t be so bad. I can keep an eye on him until then.”

You play with your empty glass absentmindedly.

Hannes had been a close friend of your mother’s growing up, and when she died, he’d looked after you when your father was away on business and you were too young to join him. To repay him for his trouble, your father had gifted him with this tavern a few years back. Hannes had declined at first, but when your father told him he wanted to name it after your mother, well, there was no going back for him then. He likes to tell you he only accepted because he wished to live his life comfortably. But the man had grown overly attached to you over the years, always telling you you reminded him a lot of your mother, and considering you were as deeply rooted in this line of work as your father, he knew this was the only way he could remain close to you.

It frustrated you sometimes. How soft-hearted he was.

“So now you’re just hiring all the helpless strays that come your way?” you ask, beginning to take out a handful of bills to pay for your drink.

“No, no,” Hannes protests quickly, shaking his hands in front of you to put the money away. “It’s on the house.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. Establishments like the Red Rose and other shop owners around town are grateful for your business because they know that as long as they abide by your rules and remain loyal to your family, they remain under your protection. And under a country with such an unstable future, protection from strong and powerful people like that of House Ymir is a way for them to keep their businesses from falling into ruin. Thus, many of them tend to express their gratitude by not charging you and your company for their services.

But no matter where you go, or for however brief a service, you always pay your share.

Jean suddenly leans forward to whisper in your ear, his voice tight. “We should go. Something’s not right. Mikasa doesn’t usually take this long,” he points out, looking around for her. “She should have been back by now.”

You obey without protest and stand up to go and grab the bottle of whiskey—which is still more than half full—for your empty stash back home.

You raise the bottle to Hannes to show him it’s coming with you and leave a roll of bills on the counter that count for more than what your drink is worth.

“Get rid of him,” you order Hannes with finality before heading out.

But dismay runs through his face and he quickly tries to dissuade. “But I can’t just—The kid’s got nowhere to go. What am I supposed to say to him?”

You throw him a warning look and point in the newbie’s direction. “Get rid of him.” You point to Hannes. “Or I get rid of you.”

Hannes shuts up after that and you let Jean, who is looking rather tense and on high alert beside you, take the lead.

From the corner of your eye you catch movement and see Eren making his way towards you.

“Wait!” he calls after you. “I didn’t—”

But Jean quickly steps in before he can reach you and keeps him a safe distance away so he can’t get any closer.

“I didn’t catch your name…” Eren finishes faintly, taken aback by Jean’s abrupt stance.

For a moment, Jean’s shoulders relax as he rolls his eyes in exasperation at the same time you hear Hannes slap his hand to his face behind you.

Only you are capable of keeping your face free of emotion despite the strange wave of sadness gnawing at your chest as Eren looks to you brightly, wearing his whole heart on his sleeve.

You can’t remember the last time you ever saw someone like that, so full of hope and with that much light in his eyes, as if life hadn't quite broken him yet.

If he stays here any longer, that will most likely change, and the reality of it is more than you are willing to bare.

Your next words come out cold and cruel.

“You don’t belong here,” you say to him before turning away. “Leave this town while you still have the chance.”

What happens next is a blur. Partially blaming the alcohol in your system for dulling your senses. And partially the pretty bartender for holding your attention longer than you should have allowed.

One second you’re turning in the direction of the door, ready to follow after Jean, and the next you’re being pulled to the ground by Eren from behind as the glass window to your right shatters, and the sound of gunshots firing in the distance is heard in retaliation.

Broken glass falls around you, and you raise your hand to shield your face, but small shards of glass make it past and cut the side of your cheek and eyebrow facing the window. You’re disoriented for a split second, but one look in Jean’s direction as he hovers nearby with his gun out, pointing and shouting to all the armed men at the pub to follow and pursue, and you quickly deduce with mild irritation: you were just the target of an attempted hit.

You glance beside you where the boy who just saved your life is staring at you with a pale face and eyes wide in shock.

Staring, not at you. But at your arm. The one you raised to shield your face from the broken glass.

Your sleeve has lifted, revealing the tattoo of the centipede, your family emblem, across your forearm. And you know. As soon as he locks eyes with you, you know he’s figured out who you are.

But before he can say or do anything else, Jean stands over him and yanks Eren by his collar before knocking him out with the side of his gun.

You groan and lay your head on the floor, closing your eyes and covering them with your arm.

Curse this wretched day.

[lilyundertaker]

April bullies day 14 - My little housewife

Pairing: bully!Toji Fushiguro x reader;

Genre: college AU, smut, one-shot;

Warnings: 18+, bullying, non-con/dub-con, none consensual blowjob, cumeating, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, homophobic themes;

Synopsis: you destroy playboy Toji's life at highschool prom, making it look like he's gay, thus he gets sent to some institution for gay people by the Zenin clan. Unfortunately, he comes back to haunt you at college, now with a single intention in his head - to destroy your future.

Note: in rl I fully support LGBTQ+ gang, and the homophobic stuff is purely for the plot here.

The high school prom was a BLAST! The memories of it were still lingering at the back of your mind, but the best thing that came out of it – it was the last time you’d ever see Toji Fushiguro, or at least you’d only see him after years. The reason why you hated the guy so much was due to his infamous school-playboy reputation, one of his conquests being your own best friend, who went to a therapist after the whole thing got exposed. The prom night was a perfect day to put your revenge at motion.

Toji must’ve been surprised out of his mind when you accepted his invitation to prom as well as to spend the night at a near-by hotel room. So far you had been the final name missing from his list of conquest and he was way too happy to finish it before moving on to his next domain, that he never caught even a whisp of your true intentions.

Let’s just say that after all the fun n dancin’ you excused yourself to your room, saying that you needed 20 minutes to prepare yourself, whilst he pumped himself up with drinks of all sorts of colors. When he finally came staggering to the hotel room, he was so happy to see a beautiful body outline hidden under the blanket, so he rid himself from most of his clothing. But as soon as he pushed himself under the covers, you stepped out of the bathroom, pulled the covers off and took a picture of Toji kissing your gay friend.

The shock on everyone’s faces of the revelation that Toji was gay, has been printed in your memory. What’s more, his prestigious family made a whole family drama for him, as they were well know for their arranged marriage breeding program (basically those people are very pressing over the importance of producing offspring), so you could only imagine how Toji got himself beat up for something that wasn’t really his fault. But as the saying goes – revenge is best served cold, and you sure as hell went by the book.

The thing was, you didn’t feel the least bit sorry for him, as he had broken your best friend’s heart and caused you lots of trouble and drama during your school years, just because you refused to sleep with him. The worst thing he had done to you was putting hot glue in your hair which caused some burns at the back of your neck, plus you were forced to shave a bit of your hair for better treatment. And all that just because you wouldn’t jump in bed with him.

Currently you were studying at the Metropolitan Technical college and in short it was all you had imagined – amazing teachers, huge libraries, loads of juicy information and the best thing of all was definitely your new classmates, who were all of mature character. There had been one classmate, who would be learning remotely for the first month, due to his or her other duties, that included family business.

By the end of your first month, you received a group assignment, where there would be four people per group. You got paired of with Kento Nanami and Satoru Gojo and the mystery fourth person, who would appear at school somewhere during next week. You had pretty much forgotten about the phantom 4th member as you were considering a potential thesis at the library with Nanami and Gojo.

You were so nose-deep in books that you didn’t notice how Nanami and Gojo had quieted down and were greeting the last member of the group, who turned out to be none other than Toji Fushiguro of the Zenin clan. You felt as if all air had been sucked out of your lungs as he smiled politely at you. “Do you guys know each other?” “No!” you quickly shouted out not even paying attention to who asked the question. Instead, you quickly grabbed your things and left in a hurry to the dormitory, making things even more awkward.

The entirety of the next month would be spent by partially attending lectures and partially working on the assigned project. Your current situation felt like walking on eggshells, fearing that at any moment Toji may snap and repay you in kind for the embarrassment you had caused him, but surprisingly he did nothing. Toji would interact with you only whilst your team were working on the project, but otherwise he’d let you be and wouldn’t even talk to you. Considering his past behavior, you were 50% convinced he might’ve actually grown more mature, since he was calm and quiet, spending nearly all of his time on academics, whilst the rest was divided by eating and sleeping.

So, when it was nearly time of the presentation you all had to divide the parts that you’d be speaking in front of the class. Nanami would start with the introduction, whilst you’d be explaining the body of your work. Gojo took on the part of arguments, leaving the conclusion and affirmation of thesis to Toji, but, since you had worked that out mostly by yourself, you all agreed that two days before presenting Toji would discuss his part with you.

That day you were as clueless as Toji had been on the prom night. The only difference was that Toji got drunk on cocktails, while you were currently drunk on studies, doing your absolute best to get excellent grades. When he came to your room at midday, you politely invited him in and offered him a drink, to which he responded by shutting your doors loudly and turning the key to lock the door. Once you looked back to him an angry scowl decorated his face.

You were surprised by his sudden change of attitude, but still thought it might be because the group left him the last bite at the project, and you were ready to bargain with him. All such thoughts perished once he backed you up against the bed and fell on it with you crushed underneath him. That is when you finally realized that something was wrong it wasn’t about the project.

“Ya actually had the gall to imagine I’d forget what you did to me that night?” He was fuming. His brute strength, which you hadn’t really noticed before all of a sudden became frightening to you and currently all you wished for was to get as far away from him as possible.

“I was forced to stay four moths at some straightening program, just because my family thought I was a bloody homosexual.” He discarded you of your shirt and leggings with one arm, while holding both of your arms in a tight grip with the other one.

“All that lecture about how important it is to produce children, the need to beat up all of those other guys, just so they’d stop flinging their cocks in front of my face destroyed my perception of the world, so…” you looked in his eyes trembling as he took off his own shirt and tied your arms with his belt. “…I think it’s only fair that I destroy your future in return.” He tightened it around your wrists, making you wince, and rolled you over so that you were laying on your belly and your ass was up against his clothed crotch. You knew full well what would follow.

“Hold your horses! Listen! This-, I…” you didn’t even know what to say to him and how to get out of this situation. “How is this gonna destroy my future huh? Really think Imma stop my study’s just because you finished your goddamn list?” That was a clear challenge for Toji and he was happy to answer. He leaned down so that his breath brushed against your ear. “You’ll find out once I’m finished inside of you.”

You used your body’s advantage and slipped out of Toji’s grip. You bolted right for the bathroom, hands still bound, but you couldn’t make it in time as Toji had grabbed you by the hair and pulled you back in room.

“M’gonna teach you how to behave, so that you’ll be good to me, my little wife.” You had hoped you heard wrong, or perhaps he was confused, or he said the wrong word. Once you looked up to him again, he was fully naked, and his cock was rock hard n full of blood.

“But first, before we can get to the main course, you gotta take care of my hard on.” You had no time to react when his cock was already in your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Your arms were pushing against his thick thighs, “Yeah baby, use them claws on me!” he grunted out and bobbed your head faster, making you choke. A mixture of saliva and his pre was leaking from the corners of your mouth and he, being a gentleman, wiped the corners for you.

It was troublesome to breathe through your nose whilst your mouth was stuffed full of Toji’s cock, but as he soothingly cooed that’s rights and good girls at you, you somehow relaxed and were able to finish the deed easier. Or more accurately, he was the one to finish the deed in your mouth.

You were coughing and inhaling sharp breaths as his seed dripped out of your mouth onto the cold floor. “That’s a good start into making a lil housewife outta you.” He praised and pulled you again by the hair to face you. “I guess I should reward you, but I’m in a bit of a rush, so let’s cancel it to some other time.”

It wasn’t exactly clear for you to why he was rushing things all of a sudden, but then again it would be weird if he’d walked out of the all-girl’s floor after such a long time, as it was a taboo for students to wonder on the floors assigned for the opposite gender at the dormitory. All meetings were supposed to be carried out at study areas to lessen the numbers of young mothers and fathers.

Finally, he got off the belt, allowing your blood flow return to it’s natural rhythm. Toji kissed you all of a sudden, but you came to learn that it was merely a diversion to mask the fact that his cock entered you in a sharp, piercing thrust, making you scream in his mouth.

“Chill out wifey, m’not gonna move until it’s all better for you, kay?!” he assured, giving some comfort to your aching soul. You held a tight grip on his shoulders as a way to force out the frustration of the pain you felt in your beating cunt. Some blood came sticky out of your vagina, but you mistook it for your own juices and finally allowed Toji to move. And boy did he move. Your tits were bouncing like crazy from the precise and dominant thrusts he was punching your way.

The best thing about this torture had to be the fact that Toji wouldn’t leave your mouth unattended and stucks his own tongue as for as it would go in your mouth, exploring every spot of your wet cavern. You could tell that his tongue was super-experienced, which was no surprise, considering how many of your former classmates he had split on his cock, whilst sticking his tongue down their throats.

Your eyes were closed shut as you released small moans and whimpers in Toji’s mouth, while he still drilled his hips in yours. You felt Toji’s pace speeding up as he was closing in on his release, before he parted from the kiss and grabbed you tightly, digging his cock as deep as he could to release his warm seed inside your pussy.

At that moment you felt as if you had been woken up from some kind of a spell, because you began banging on his chest and telling him to let go, going nuts over the fact that you might not get plan b in time. “Toji please, let…” “Shhhh, it’s all ok little wifey, you’re gonna look so pretty with you little baby bump, paddling around the house, cooking dinner for me.” For a moment you thought that he might be delirious, drunk on some distant fantasy, but then you remembered again. What he said. He told you he’d make a wife out of you. A fucking wife! You, a first-year college student, would be forced to leave your studies, just because your asshole of a classmate knocked you up out of spite and…revenge.

For a second you thought whether Toji was feeling as hopeless as you were now after you had made that whole gay shit charade. It didn’t matter though cause currently you were being impregnated by your enemy, his sperm probably already reach your egg so it would be only a question of time before Toji Fushiguro gives the Zenin clan a formal introduction of his little wife.

[heavensgxte]

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏

naoya zen’in x f!reader

wc- 3.5k

masterlist

tw:// yandere, noncon, forced marriage, breeding, coercion, black mail, pregnancy mentions

Somewhere on the Zen’in compound….

Naoya Zen’in, 27. Is taking a moment to himself for some self reflection. The next in line to become head of the clan after his dear father, he should have been planning accordingly. Finding a wife to produce an heir after him. So, why hasn’t he chosen someone yet? Well he knows the answer to that question, like most humans, he possesses the quality that he wants what he cannot have, you.

Originally in your guys’ youth, at one point there had been a meeting in place where there could be arrangements for the both of you to marry, and your clan almost accepted the offer, you almost belonged to him. But no, you wanted to become a jujutsu sorcerer instead, defying your clan at all costs until you got your way, like a spoiled brat. At first he had even agreed to your whims, as long as he still got to marry you after you had graduated but, no. That wasn’t enough for you. Your end had still broken the arranged marriage agreement.

Naoya almost breaks the glass in frustration, seething at this memory of you. Thinking on how instead of becoming his little housewife you went on your way to become a second grade sorcerer instead, what a waste. A beautiful body like yours and your perfect face was meant for looking pretty and carrying his seed, not doing a man’s job fighting curses. What a waste.

But no matter, Naoya doesn’t mind playing dirty to get what he wants. Unable to take his yearning anymore. It wouldn’t be the first time the higher ups have turned a blind eye to something he has done. Far from it. In fact, they’ve laid their own hands into the dish, just to remain good with one of the larger clans.

He has waited long enough. Too long if you ask him, he’s let you have your fun, but now it really is time you stop the act, for your own good of course. Possibly his own selfish desires, imagining you taking his cock between your lips, watching it disappear into your perfect little cun-

He needs to calm himself, he thinks as a groan slips past his lips as he palms himself through his trousers. The thought of fucking his own personal sleeve, becoming far too much for him. The one who thought she could get away from him, about to be in his hand.

He has a few phone calls to make.

All it was is a few.. Threats.. A little persuasion if you will, as long as you agree to his whims, nobody shall be harmed. Truly that is quite evil even for him but, does he care? Not really, his patience deserves to be rewarded. Rightfully, you belong to him.

So to no surprise, a few days later when the news reaches you, you waste no time in coming down to the Zen’in compound yourself.

A servant nervously approaches the man, “She’s here Master Naoya and she’s very...upset…” they nervously trail off, recalling the way you were seething as soon as you entered the place.

He can’t help the smug look that creeps across his face at the news. Relaxing back into his seat in satisfaction. “Good, good, she knows where to find me.” Waving a hand to dismiss the servant, now, he waits.

You thought he had given up, when you had backed out of the proposal to pursue your own dreams. Of course he was persistent for a few years after, but nonetheless you thought you were home free, you knew he was a misogynistic dick, but you never thought he’d pull the rug out from beneath your feet like this though. Stupid naive you for thinking he wouldn’t. You chide yourself, you should have thought this would happen, you gave him no choice and now you are stuck between a rock and a hard place. Given virtually no choice.

Your clan is much smaller, always has been, not very many of you left, and you let your guard down. You cannot afford to lose anymore members, you knew this, your elders knew this, so now the fate rests in your hands. You have to fix this, and now for your sake, and the rest of your family, you had everything ripped from you in a matter of a few days.

You know where he is, the familiar cursed energy is hard to miss as you angrily march to the room he’s currently residing in. Not even bothering to knock, opening the door and walking right up to the asshole who looks all too happy for his own good.

“Now now dear, fix your face, you’ll get wrinkles, a frown doesn’t suit you anyways.” The man tuts.

Taking a moment to will yourself, you collect your thoughts, knowing that the more upset you come off, the happier this will make him. “Why Naoya, why me? Why did you resort to something like that.”

“I’ve waited long enough haven’t I?” The man gets up from his chair, slowly sauntering towards you to come face to face with you. “Originally, you should have given me a few brats by now, more than likely waddling around with another on the way.” Naoya’s hand makes it’s way to your hip as he stands behind you, fear creeping up your spine.

“Originally” he hisses. “You were supposed to walk three steps behind me and warm my bed every night. A ring should already be on your left hand, and you should have been opening your legs for me every night.

You gave me no choice, I get what I want. And if you want your family safe, and sound. You’ll let the servants.” He looks you up and down. “Fix you up. Weddings in a week, I expect you back here in three days for preparations. I'm being kind enough to let you go back, get what you need and spread the good news. I’ve waited long enough.” Cold lips reach your ear lobe for a gentle kiss. “Now, run along little bunny, I will be seeing you soon, future wife.” A giggle filled with mirth escapes his lips before he turns you around, and smacks your ass harshly.

You try to fight the tears streaming down your face at the news, you wanted to give him a piece of your mind you really did, but like a coward you kept your mouth shut, you wanted to argue and fight for your own sake, but being in his presence you felt powerless, you stood no chance. Everything you worked hard for is gone, just like that. That was just how the jujutsu world worked, if you were a part of the bigger clans, it was quite often that higher ups would turn a blind eye to sketchy affairs such as this one.

Your head hangs low as you make it back to your compound, your family apprehensively waiting for your arrival. They hold you and cry with you as they see the state you are in, telling you that they can figure something out possibly, they can figure this out anything to not hand you away just like that, you know, they know, that your fate is sealed.

A week later.

The ceremony is beautiful, you admit. Everything about the wedding could be taken straight out of a novel, from your ring down to the scenery, the only out of place thing would be your now husband, and you know some of the clan also got their hands dirty as well. But you don’t blame the whole clan, some really do look at you with sympathy and pity in your eyes. A handful of them knowing just how Naoya can be.

As the servants helped you dress and did your hair, they were gentle and kind with you, but they too had that pity in their eyes. Some of your family and clan did attend, afterall it was your wedding day. Meeting eyes with them after everything was exchanged, was the first time today that you couldn’t stop a tear from rolling down your face. Which you quickly wipe away hoping they didn’t see. Hoping he didn’t see. Knowing he’d be all to happy that you already have had your spirits crushed.

Your now husband leans to your ear after the ceremony is over. “I hope you’re ready for tonight wife” he all but hisses, especially the last word. “I’m very pent up after all these years of waiting for you, I don’t plan on taking it easy on you.”

Another tear cascades down your face.

Later that night.

You had never planned on saving yourself for marriage. The whole concept seemed of no importance in your life. Naoya also knew this, he may or may not have been keeping tabs on you the last few years. Here and there.

It doesn’t matter who you’ve had in the past hes reasoned, all that matters is that you’re his now. His forever. God thinking of the possession he has now already has his at full staff. The very idea of full possession of you has excitement vibrating through his veins. Bending you over that bed and- No, no, he wants to see your face when he spears you on his cock. The look on your face will be all worth it.

You follow him trying to keep up with him as he leads through the compound where his, you mean both of your quarters are now. The reality is that you no longer have your own room, you will be expected to share a room and warm his bed every night.

Naoya opens his doors without haste, seemingly annoyed you were so far behind him on the way there, as you approach the door he smacks your ass harshly with an eyeroll as you quickly scurry in.

You stand there unsure really on where things will progress from here, knowing what couples do on the first night, you want to test him, see if he actually is serious about what he had mentioned earlier, who are you kidding, you know that he is, and his predatory stare from his cat-like eyes that are fixated on you tells you no different from your assumption.

Naoya admits, you look beautiful in your wedding kimono, such elegant wear truly does suit you, especially vs your uniform that you had worn as a sorcerer, but now at the prospect of being the one to shed you of your attire, as regal as you may currently look, he is thrumming with excitement at the prospect of how wrecked he can turn your image now.

“Undress me” he commands.

Ah, so it starts now, you reason. The tone he used leaving no room to get yourself out of this one, no doubt if you aren’t his compliant little housewife, he has no issue digging up threats once more.

Standing up from the seat on top of the luxurious bed you were on, you hesitantly make your way over to the pompous man. Beginning to carefully shed him of his own wedding kimono, and as you get to his undergarments, it is too much for you to look down. You will yourself to not look down, far too intimate to stare at his cock, which from the corner of your eye you can see that it is very erect, slapping along his abdomen. All seven inches, and a very thick girth.

The blond notices this and smirks. Knowing he is of impressive size. “Enough gawking at me little wife. I have waited years to see what you were hiding from me beneath those wretched outfits you choose to wear.” Naoya is surprisingly gentle as he strips you of your own kimono, careful with the beautiful fabric, taking his time to feel your breasts as he peels the cloth away. Feeling along the curve of your waist as each article is neatly thrown into a pile, until you stand bare before him.

You see his eyes flicker in approval, his predatory stare boring holes through you, you want to hide yourself from such a strong gaze as his, but you know that would be the wrong move. Instead Naoya slowly stalks circles around you, just as naked as you looking you up and down, until he is standing behind you. You feel his erection on your upper buttocks and lower back as he presses his body closer to you, feeling him envelop you.

“Now now, I really have made the right choice, a body such as yours is meant to be ravished by her husband, to carry children, not fight curses.” The man tuts, removing each hairpin from your wedding hair style. Shockingly also taking his time here. Kissing up and down along the side of your neck and jawline. Moving briefly to set each hair pin down onto the dresser. “Such perfect breasts.” The man quietly says as if he’s talking to himself when he approaches you, groping them between both of his calloused hands.

Grabbing your hips with his own hands, he spins you around, cat like eyes meeting yours that have you frozen in your place. Flickering to your lips until he crashes his against yours, years of yearning and passion behind this kiss as he pushes you towards the bed once more.

Restless hands cannot stop running down your body as if they have a mind of their own, pinching and groping across the expanse of your silky skin. Running along divots, stretch marks, and every scar they can get themselves into, he can’t stop, he won't stop. Nobody has ever taken this much time to truly feel all of you it's strange, it’s even, nice, in a way.

Using his hands he sits you on the bed standing above you, before you. You look up at him, not sure how to feel, this day has been a whirlwind, scratch that, this entire last week has been.

Naoya grabs you by your nape, forcing you to be face to face with his painfully hard cock. “Don’t you dare take your eyes off of me, or my cock, when I decide that I want to be intimate with you, do not disobey me.” The special grade sorcerer uses his other hand to wrap it around his own dick, moving it up and down right in front of your face as if to prove a point. Moving your face closer with the strong grip he has on you, Naoya slaps his cock on your right cheek, not very hard but a trail of pre glistens on your cheek. Moving his member across your other cheek and lips, it’s like he's marking you in such a primal way.

Letting go of his erection, the blond playfully taps your face. “Open” he commands. As if under a trance under his dominating presence, you obediently listen, of course Naoya notices and wastes no time ramming his own cock in your mouth. “Show me you’re worth all the trouble you’ve put me through, brat.” he grits, practically fucking your face, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Naoya has the audacity to laugh at the way drool leaks past your lips and that you gag around his girth.

The laughs slowly turn into his own groans as time goes on before he abruptly pulls out leaving you to cough up your own spit and his pre cum. “I got too close there” he chides to himself. “As if I would waste my precious seed in your mouth.” Deft fingers find their way to your pussy, his ring and middle finger rubbing the rim of your hole before Naoya roughly inserts the two, cooing “My cum belongs riiight here. Enough foreplay, you seem ready.” He reasons scissoring the two fingers into your sopping cunt.

When did you get so wet? Did getting face fucked really turn you on that much?

“Up the bed you go.” Pushing you further up the bed the blond slots himself on top of you looking down on you like you were his next meal and he hasn’t eaten all day. “Time to make you a mommy.” Using the most condescending tone he can, Naoya aligns himself with your cunt, leaving all self restraint behind, you can feel him thrum with excitement above of you. He’s practically vibrating.

At the intrusion you can’t help but moan and cling onto the man, at which as he may let you cling to his biceps, his starting pace is outright brutal, fucking you as if he’s possessed. Just to avoid separation from how hard Naoya is going, a bruising grip is placed onto your hips.

“So. Fucking. Good. Shit.” he groans using your body like a fuck sleeve. “Yes. Yes, yes you’ll do, you’re perfect. Don’t you ever think you’ll ever get away from me.”

You can’t even follow what he’s saying before he roughly manhandles you until your thighs are practically pinned to your chest. Listening to him ramble about how he’s gonna breed you over and over until it takes. Naoya's eyes not sure where to go, your fucked out face, your bouncing tits, or the way your greedy cunt swallows his cock, not wanting to let it go.

If heaven exists it’s the way his cock fits into your cunt, it’s the way you sound so angelic as he defiles you on your own wedding night that you were forced to participate in. Coercion be damned all he cares about is this moment, you beneath him, getting what he wants for the rest of his sorcerer life, all the wait has been worth it for this moment, for his future, and you, the woman who will open her legs for him nightly, follow behind him and carry his heir.

Thinking of you swollen with his child and your breasts swelled with milk, waddling behind him has him kicking into overdrive, he sees nothing but lust and pleasure clouding his vision as he leans down and locks his lips with yours, moaning and groaning shamelessly into your mouth, sharing your own angelic wails.

You feel yourself begin to reach your own peak as your own shroud of pleasure begins to settle into your mind. The way he hits your g spot over and over again. His lips on yours, that trail down your neck, putting a nipple into his greedy mouth. The vibrations of his own groans around the peaked bud.

It hits you out of nowhere before you clench impossibly tighter around him. A silent scream leaving your lips.

“Shit, shit can’t move, cant pull out too tight too tight.” Naoya rambles pleasure blinding him as his own orgasm punches him right in the lower gut. “Gonna breed, gonna fuck, take it, slut, slutty wife, take it!” Throwing his head back above you you feel the way it floods your entire lower body. But he doesn’t pull out just collapses ontop of you as he desperately tries to fuck his own cum deeper into your womb, he can’t think, just breed, that’s all that his one track mind is telling him.

Before he knows it he’s already at full staff, and he wastes no time fucking you once more, depleated energy stored into the back of his mind, and overstimulation at the front of yours as fat tears roll down your face, pain and pleasure mixing together.

Eventually it’s all too much, after you are surely stuffed to the brim, puffy cunt sore from the treatment, you think you pass out.

You wake up the next morning, covered in dry cum. You feel it’s presence still very much so stuffed into your cunt. You also feel a warm body draped over yours, looking over at the table you do see a glass of water. You also feel a flaccid cock you must have been warming all night long.

Did he really fuck you until he passed out? You reason he probably did. You look towards the window to find the sun just beginning to rise, not being able to stop the few tears that escape your eyes, a true moment to yourself, sort of. For the last week, the weight of your situation settles, is this really how you’re going to spend the rest of your life?

[writingwithcolor]

Being an Agender, 1st-Gen Indian-American

I’m a first-generation immigrant, with both my parents being Indian immigrants. My mom immigrated to Canada before she came to America (when she was in her late twenties), and is a Canadian citizen. She was born and raised in Ahmedabad, a city in Gujarat. My dad moved to India when he was in his early twenties. He moved from Ahmedabad to Mumbai in his fifth standard, and moved from a Gujarati-medium school to an English-medium one. 

My dad is more fluent in English than my mom, though they both are fluent and speak mostly without an accent. I speak Gujarati more-or-less fluently, since that’s what we spoke at home, but I can barely even write my name. I’m Hindu, as is my family, and a strict vegetarian. I’m agender, but I use she/her and they/them pronouns. 

Beauty Standards

One of the biggest issues in the Indian-American community is the issue of body hair. I’m AFAB, so I was expected to have smooth, hairless legs and arms. The reality was rather different. Since the age of ten, I had more body hair than the boys in my class. I was mocked and called by the name of a TV animal character, whose name was a mispronunciation of my own. No one ever did anything about it. I was eight. My mother, though she meant well, pushed me into waxing and threading and other forms of hair removal since the day I turned eleven. Even now, as a fully-grown adult with my own apartment and my own life, I can’t bring myself to wear shorts or capris without having spent hours making sure my legs are smooth. Body hair is a huge issue that needs to be addressed more, and not just as a few wisps of blonde hair in the armpit region.

Food

It’s complicated. Growing up, we had thaalis (with roti, rice, sweet dal, and shaak [which is a mix of vegetables and spices]) for dinner almost every night. When we didn’t, it was supplemented with foods like pasta, veggie burgers, and khichdi. We made different types of khichdi each time, based off of different familial recipes that were all named after the family member who introduced them. My mom had to make milder food for my sister, and while my sister loves spicy foods now, I’m still not a big fan. A side effect of growing up in a non-white, vegetarian family is that no one in my family has any idea of what white non-vegetarians eat. Like, at all. It’s kind of funny, to be honest. 

Holidays/Religion

My mom is a Vaishnav, and my dad is a Brahmin, so the way they both worship is very different. My dad’s family places a huge emphasis on chanting and prayer, as well as meditation. They mostly pray to capital-G G-d, as the metaphysical embodiment of Grace. My mom’s family, however, places emphasis on– I don’t want to say “idol worship" because of the negative connotations that has– but they worship to murtis, statues that represent our gods. My mom’s favored god to pray to is Krishna, and we have murtis in our home that she performs sevato every day.

We celebrate Janmashtmi, Holi, Diwali, Ganesha Puja, Lakshmi Puja– too many to count, really. We don’t always go all-out, especially on most of the smaller celebrations, but we do try and attend the temple lectures on those days, or host our own. We also celebrate Christmas and Easter secularly. I didn’t even know Christmas was a Christian holiday until I was in elementary school, and Easter until I was in high school.

Micro-Aggressions

Whooo, boy. Where do I start?

When my sister was in first grade, she had a friend. I’ll call her Mary. Mary, upon learning that my sister was not, in fact, Christian, brought an entire Bible to school and forced my sister to read it during recess, saying that otherwise, she wouldn’t be her friend anymore. Mary kept telling my sister that she would go to hell if she didn’t repent, and that our entire family was a group of “ugly sinners.” When my sister came to me for advice, I told her that Mary wasn’t her friend, that Mary wasn’t being nice, and that my sister wasn’t going to go to hell, and that we don’t even believe in hell. When my sister finally stood up to Mary and told her that she wasn’t going to listen to her anymore, Mary got angry and dumped a mini-carton of chocolate milk on her and told her that “now she looks like what she is– a dirty [the Roma slur term].” Not only was that inaccurate, it was extremely racist, and Mary was only reprimanded for the milk-spilling, not the racist remark that came with it. 

On top of that, since I have long hair, I’m always getting asked if so-and-so can touch it, or what I do to get it so long, or why I allow myself to be “shaped by such backwards ideals of women.” My name is never pronounced correctly, and I’ve been asked to give people my “American name” to be called by instead of my actual name. I’ve been called a terrorist, asked why I wasn’t wearing a hijab (by white people btw), and mocked for my food. I’ve been told that I wasn’t “really Indian” because I didn’t have a dot on my forehead. I’ve been told I wasn’t “really Hindu” because I had milk on my plate, by a white boy whose mom was a leader of a local choir.

I grew up in a town where only 4-5% of the population was South Asian, and there were a total of five South Asians in my grade level. The school administration consistently and intentionally placed us in different classes, and I never made a friend that was South Asian until 7th grade. When I came to the school, I was placed in ESOL without even being tested, while also being in the Advanced Readers class. The school didn’t even care to look at my school records before placing me into ESOL based on the color of my skin. 

Things I’d Like to See Less/More Of

I’d like to see less of the “nerd” stereotype, of the “weak, nonathletic” stereotype. I’d like to see less of the “prude” stereotype, of the “I hate my culture/feel I don’t belong” stereotype. I’d like to see less of the “rebellion” stereotype, of the “my parents are so strict and I hate them” stereotype. I never want to see the “unwanted arranged marriage” trope. Ever.

I want to see bulky, tall Indian characters. I’d like to see Indian characters confident in their sexuality, whether that’s not having sex (for LEGITIMATE reasons like risk of STDs, general awkwardness before and after The Deed, and wanting to wait, not “oh my parents said so and also I’m sheltered and innocent”), or having a new sexual partner every night.

I want Indian characters (especially children/teens!!!) proud of their culture and their heritage and their religion, whether that’s Islam, Hinduism, Sikhism, or anything else. I want to see supportive Indian parents, I want to see more than chiding Indian grandmothers and strict Indian fathers. I want to see healthy arranged marriages, or healthy mixed-marriages. I want to see mixed Indian-POC couples, I want to see queer Indian couples.

I want to see body hair on female-presenting characters, I want to see more of India that isn’t “bustling market with the scent of spices in the air” and “poor slums rampant with disease” and “Taj Mahal”. I want to see casual mentions of prayer and Hinduism and Indian culture (a short “My mom’s at the temple, she can’t come pick us up” or a “what is it? i’m in the middle of a holi fight! eep! ugh, gulaab in my mouth” over a phone call, or a “she won’t answer until 12– she’s in her Bharatnatyam class/Gurukul class/doing seva/at the temple” would suffice). I want to see more Indian languages represented than just Hindi. There’s Tamil, Gujarati, Marathi, Nepali, and Kashmiri, just off the top of my head. The language your character speaks depends on the place they come from in India, and they might not even speak Hindi! (I don’t!)

I hate that Indian culture is reduced to “oppressive, strict, and prudish” when it's so much more than that. I hate that Indians are stereotyped to the point where it is a norm, and the companies reinforcing these stereotypes don’t take responsibility for their actions and don’t change. I hate the appropriation of Indian culture (like yoga, pronounced “yogh”, not “yo-gaaa” fyi, the Om symbol, meditation, and Shri Ganapathidada) and how normalized it is in Western society. 

This ended up a lot longer than I had expected, but I hope it helps! Good luck with your writing :)

Read more POC profiles here

Submit your own 

[xsugarysweetsx]

hehe the way I smiled when I saw that your requests r open!!Thank you😗

May I request Cherry X Reader where they r in an arranged marriage. Like maybe the reader is from a traditional family and she agrees to it anyway since she loves her parents but is low-key scared of being his wife/a mother. They have a rocky start but end up falling in love. Maybe one day cherry takes her to S to see him race and meet the gang and she loves it. You can make it spicy at the end if you like 👀

idk why but I always think about this when I see him and also braiding his hair coz it's so much prettier than mine 😒💖

A/N:I don’t understand how a man can be so beautiful// much longer than I expected it to be....

Please enjoy~🍰

Warnings; Some mention of smut; Nothing too detailed, but it’s there

*******************************************************

“Come here your kimono isn’t tight enough“ your mother said as she went behind you to tighten it even more than before 

“Mom! I can’t breath if it’s this tight!“ you said almost wheezing for air.

“You have to make sure your waist looks small and appealing” she said, even though, looks are not everything in a relationship. As much as you didn’t want to, you had to look your best today, it was important. You were going to meet the man you were to marry. You were part of an important family in Japan, and of course your family was very traditional. This only meant you were already expecting an arranged marriage.  

 Today you were meeting with him for the first time. From what you heard, he was a successful calligrapher, and popular with women. You didn't quite know how to feel with that, but this was your future. Most people wouldn't agree with arranged marriages but, you love your parents and this is what they wanted.

They told you that he was a gentleman, and very respectful. Well your hopes were up now, hopefully you’re not disappointed. Could you possibly end up in a good marriage? walking into the home you were greeted not by someone work there, but by a voice.

“Welcome, master Kaoru is waiting for you in the meeting room.“ for someone who is traditional he sure had a good AI system. Walking off to the right your father opens the sliding door and there he was. A young man with long pink hair and glasses, he wore traditional clothing and seemed very proper.

“Mr & Mrs Y/L/N, welcome please take a seat.” Not a hint of emotion on his face.

He was stoic but not cold. He poured you all some tea and your parents begin to discuss the marriage. Now that you say there and listened to everything, it really started sinking in. You were getting married to a complete stranger. You didn’t know the first thing about marriage! Or being a wife! Oh gods.....what if they expected children??

A million things were flooding your mind, you felt so lost. In all honesty, you were scared of what was to come..

“Y/N..” you were brought out of your thoughts by your mother gently shaking your shoulder “are you alright? You look sick”

“O-oh, yes I’m fine!“ you assure her swallowing the lump in your throat

“If you say so, we need you and Mr.Sakurayashiki to sign the papers as well. In 2 weeks time there will be a wedding ceremony but for now, we must fill out the papers.“ you watch Kaoru take the pen read the line and signs his name next was your turn.

He hands you the paper and pen, you bite your bottom lip as you read ‘spouse sign here’. You let out a shaky breath as the ink forms your name on the paper. After some more discussions on the wedding it was your time to leave. You all thanked him for tea and his time. Before you walked out the door he asked t speak with you for a moment, making your heart drop. You parents wait outside as you have a word with the pink haired man.

“Y/N, I just want you to relax, I noticed you were nervous before and you should know I won’t mistreat you and will try to be a proper spouse“ 

“Oh, uhm thank you Mr-“

He interrupts you “Please call me Kaoru“

<><><><>

Just as planned the wedding happened 2 weeks from then. You couldn’t stop blushing that day, from anxiety, to shyness, to even Kaoru. He looked very handsome that day, and he was just as much as gentleman. The ceremony was calm and heartfelt, friends and family gathered to witness your union. He saw you were very nervous that day so, instead of a general kiss he gave you a quick peck.

Only for you to duck you flustered face, he found it quite cute actually. He thought you looked beautiful that day in traditional wedding attire. He took mental note son how you were as a person. Although you seemed somewhat intimidated, you were considerate and kind. You helped people who needed it, and you put others before yourself. He just hoped this marriage will have a good outcome.

———

“We don’t have to do this” he simply said beginning to disrobe

“But-“ usually it was on the first night of the wedding when. It should happen

“If we get to that stage in our relationship, then you can tell me. You don’t have to force yourself. I can leave the room until you’re done getting changed” he left the room so that you can change. You take a moment to assess the situation, and you smile to yourself

“How considerate...“ you think to yourself. after changing, you both ordered room service and have dinner for the night. He was nice to talk to, it had some interesting topics to share with you. Even his calligraphy job seemed interesting. He offered to take a different room while you slept in this one's may be comfortable, but you said it was okay and you were fine with sharing a bed.

he's not like most men I hear about an arranged marriages. He's not forcing you to do anything, he's asking if I'm comfortable with everything. All the stories really kind of scared me into this, maybe it won't be so bad....maybe....

<><><><>

“Y/N, get dressed we’re going out tonight“ he says coming to you and kisses your cheek. It has been about 11 months, almost a year, since you married and it has been better than you thought. of course you had fears of Nami and expectations of a “good wife”. He made sure to tell you how much of a good job you were doing, even if you didn't do much. He thought you were perfect the way you are. He also believe that he could trust you enough to share secret with you--he was taking you to “S”

Usually you both go to events together, especially ones that associated with his work. But tonight was different he had different attire on. He wore his hair in a ponytail, no glasses and a mask covering the bottom portion of his face.

“Where are we going? A costume party?“ you joke 

“After seeing one person you mat think that“ he said but was still serious about you getting ready ““make sure you dress comfortably you don't need to wear kimono for this.” he gave you more detail “Now listen to me, where we are going you cannot speak of after. Not to me, nor to your parents or anyone else if they know about it.“

“Huh? Are we joining some secret society?“ you giggle coming back out in some jeans and a t shirt with a sweater. 

“In a way, let’s go.“ if you thought tonight was strange you only got stranger, you would expect a person like him to have a motorcycle. Or to be carrying a skateboard for that matter, just who was this person and was he really your husband. Holding on to him you take off into the dead of night. eventually make it to the gate where he showed an s-shaped sticker and was granted entry. There multiple women started to scream 

“Cherry!!”  “Master Cherry!!” Were they referring to Kaoru?

“Yo Cherry, ya made it- and you finally brought a girl with ya. It’s about time” a tall muscular man with green hair said patting Kaoru on the back roughly. Next came a man with dramatic makeup and a cape. Two boys who seemed to ebe in high school, one with red hair and the other with blue. Finally a much younger looking boy with a cat hoodie. Huh, interesting crowd...

“Get off me!“ he said kicking him in the ass��“This is Y/N, she’s my wife“ he said standing next to you and all their jaws drop

“Cherry is married?!“

“Huh, she’s pretty quiet compared to these girls...it’s kinda nice“

“Damn, and to think you could have gotten anyone but got married.“ Kaoru seemed very annoyed at this point 

“Yes I am married, she’s better than the screaming women here, and I will not toy with women like you do!!“ he answered all their questions in one go “Y/N, this is a place where skateboarders come to race, it’s called ‘S’, these are JOE, MIYA, Reki, Langa, and SHADOW“

“H-hello..“ you wave to the small group and they waved back 

“Y/N, do you mind stay here with Reki and Langa? I need to race and I’ll be back“ he asked laying hand to the top of your head and you nod. He leans down and places his covered lips to your forehead. He then picked up his board, it was black with some purple lining and goes to the start. 

There he and JOE get ready to race as a traffic light counts their start. After it turns green they were off like rockets. It was still a lot to swallow...how he kind of had a double life and you were just now finding out about it. It was a bit overwhelming when you really watched him go. The way he picked up speed and rounded corners, made you hold your breath and gasp with each trick he did. 

When they approach the finish line he had won and the crowd was chanting his name. They both made their way back bickering about who was the best skater, when they were both equally amazing. Crowds joined around them but you just stayed behind still processing everything. It wasn’t a bad thing, but you were just wondering so many thing. Cherry pushes his way through the crowd and to your side lifting your head without warning captures your lips in a kiss. 

This was the most intimate you had been with him, and in public! The crowd went quiet and some of the girls there complained or whined about not being in your place. After he pulls away he whispered to you

“Let’s go home...“ and you were on your way back to the comfort of your home. That night he had made love to you for the first time ever. It was passionate, and steamy, and full of love. He was your first ever so he made sure to go slow for you. Everything about it just felt so good, the way he held and kissed you. He handled you like glass but did not fail to meet your pleasure.

That night was when you opened up about your fears of being his wife

“..and seeing how amazing you were tonight only made me more aware of who you were. I just...hope I can live up to your standards as a wife, and don’t get me started on children. Imagine having a plain mother“ you vented to him as he held you close 

“Don’t say that,“ he snapped back “You’re an incredible wife and you’d be an even better mother one day. When I heard about the arrangement I was honestly nervous. And the day I saw you only raised my anxiety, I thought you were stunning, and your shyness only made you cuter“ he admits with a chuckle 

“I guess....we’re both nervous wrecks who married each other then?“ you giggle looking up at him as your head lays on his chest 

“You’re my nervous wreck“ he said poking your nose with his finger “...I have something else to tell you...“

“What’s that?“ you ask. He cranes his head down toward you 

“...I love you“ he whispered as he catches you lips in a kiss

*******************************************************

I hope this was okay!❤️

[vampiric-daydreams]

Revelation

Jasper x Reader

This is Part 5 of the Jasper miniseries. Here is Part 1.

Summary: Somewhere between the exhaustion of having your emotions literally toyed with and receiving some shocking news from Alice, you try to develop a deeper understanding of your situation. This leads to a shocking revelation about Jasper.

Word Count: 2,936

*

Something was definitely going on now, if it wasn’t already.

They sat at their table in the cafeteria, together but not interacting. Alice was looking anywhere but at Jasper, and Jasper seemed starved for her attention. He glanced at you, darting his eyes away when you noticed, almost as if he was ashamed. Alice’s gaze locked with your own mere seconds after, her gorgeous golden eyes pierced with pain. Even after spilling their secrets to you last night, they were still keeping something for themselves. You reflected on what Jasper told you before he left last night.

It’s important that you seek her when you’re ready to listen… You’ll like what she saw for you.

Jasper’s words, the distance between them both… Could it have something to do with that vision? Frowning at Alice, who was still staring back at you, you stood up and walked out of the cafeteria; knowing that she would follow behind you.

Minutes later, Alice met you by the drinking fountains outside a block of classrooms. Her hair, always styled to perfection, was slightly messy; but that in itself was enough to tell you that whatever had been going on last night had gotten worse. As she walked towards you, it was like she suffered more with every step.

“I’m sorry for freaking out last night, I-”

“Don’t apologise for that. It’s a lot to take in at once for anybody.” She forced a smile. You didn’t trust her.

“Well, I’m sorry. I’ve upset you and Jasper with my actions.” You paused. Was now the right time to ask for the rest of her vision? You took the plunge, anyway. “I hope it’s not an inconsiderate time to ask, but Jasper told me I needed to find out more of what you had to say? I shouldn’t have stormed off like that, and he made it sound like I missed something important back there.”

“(Y/N), only if you’re ready to listen, can we get away from here and go someplace a little more private?” For the first time, you noticed, Alice Cullen seemed human. No longer the paradigm of devastating perfection, Alice’s straight brows furrowed, and she toyed with her fingers. Giving her a nod in response, Alice led you away from the school and into the forest you had refused to follow Jasper into only yesterday. But this time, it was different. You knew the Cullens would not kill you, as much as they may want to. Something about Edward struck him as the hypocritical type who would campaign for your death to protect their secret, yet protect Bella at all costs in the same breath.

“He said I’d like what you saw for me. What does that mean?”

Alice halted in front of you, dwarfed by her surroundings of wide trunks and thick, mossy roots. The moist earth squelched beneath your shoes as you took your final steps before stopping behind her. She didn’t turn to face you. “I know about your arrangement with him last night—about how he’s using his gift to suppress your feelings—and (Y/N), it’s wrong.”

“It’s the only thing we can do. I can’t get over him. Even now that he’s out of range, I can feel the love seeping back into my heart.”

“It won’t work,” she spat. She turned around and glared at you. “Nothing either of you do will work and the rest of us have no choice but to accept it. Including me.”

“Alice, I-”

“I didn’t tell you about the rest of the vision I had—the one we’re living in right now.” You didn’t speak again, knowing it was probably easier for her to shoot everything at you at once. “I’ll skip how we were concerned about our secret being safe with you—I can’t afford for you to run off again. This is important. I saw you and Jasper together. I’ve done what I can to see if there’s a way around it, but it seems right. It’s like the universe keeps pushing you together in every alternate scenario,” her voice broke, “and he looked so happy with you.”

“I’m so sor-”

“I need you to hear this. It’s difficult for me to admit that Jasper and I might not be as perfect for each other as I hoped. When I first met him, I had already known we would be married and in love and with our coven. I had that vision twenty-eight years before I met him, and I shaped my entire life as a vampire around it. I practised vegetarianism long before I met him, I–” She cut herself off, almost sounding breathless. “I have to give you my blessing, because the Jasper I saw in that vision with you was a better version of himself, a happier version of himself. I thought I was meant to be with him, but I guess I was wrong.”

“It’s not like Jasper even wants to-”

“I’ve been distancing myself from him; trying to see if I might move on from him.  I had a vision and saw myself, perfectly content, with the two of you as a couple. He assumed the woman who changed him was his mate, but he was wrong. Perhaps I was wrong about him?”

“Alice! That can’t be right! He told me how long you’ve been married, there’s no way you wouldn’t have noticed sooner if that were the case!”

She gave you one last defeated expression before she left, and you were alone; your heavy heart threatening to drown you.

 *

 Two days had passed, and already your love for Jasper rising and falling like a Yo-Yo was exhausting. All of your energy had drained away. You flopped on your bed and laid there lifelessly; staring up at the ceiling you wondered why it had to be you. Why couldn’t you be a normal person with a normal crush on another normal person? You wondered if Bella ever felt that way.

We need to talk. You didn’t want your first text exchange with Jasper to be so blunt and cold, but you both needed to reassess the mood-control strategy; your body just wasn’t coping.

You went over Alice’s visions in your mind, playing them like a movie. Even through the guilt, your heart fluttered at the thought of a romance being a possibility. Had she seen you kissing?

A powerful sense of nausea hit you as your body threatened to vomit. You still wanted Jasper, and you were sure you always would—but what it was costing both of you was too much to bear. Stuck between the man you loved, who continued to discard you, and his wife who despite her own feelings was determined for you to take him from her. You were a mere human treading water in what felt like a vampire soap opera.

Lulling your head back against the soft pillows supporting you; you allowed yourself to drown, falling deeper and deeper into the sleep that consumed you. Tomorrow, you would get better answers—and you knew just where to get them. 

 *

 Bella Swan sat awkwardly beside you on the bleachers. She had gym class, but rolled her ankle; and you had a free period. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and she held an ice pack to her right foot.

You watched her as she lowered her chocolate gaze. “Can Edward read your mind, too? Is it weird dating someone who can do that?”

She still didn’t look at you. “No, I’m an exception… For some reason.”

“Bella, c-can—I mean—do you think Edward would speak with me? I know he hates me, but-”

Her eyes met yours. “He doesn’t hate you, he’s just concerned for Alice. But I’ll talk to him and see if I can get him to meet you if you don’t mind telling me what this is about?”

Had Edward even bothered to mention it? “Do you know about the Jasper and Alice thing?” The face she gave you said she did, and then her eyes hardened. “After what Alice told me earlier, and what Jasper said to me last night, I need better context. Edward can read minds so maybe he could tell me what Alice and Jasper both think about everything to help me decide what to do with myself?”

Bella fumbled with the ice pack as she readjusted it on her swollen ankle. “I don’t know…”

“Please, Bella. Jasper was so hot and cold with me the other night, and the way Alice keeps looking at me… I just feel awful. I’ve wanted to be with Jasper for so long, but I never thought it would be like this. I never knew I was wishing for decades-long marriage to end just so I could get what I wanted. Please, Bella. This is insane. All I did was have a crush on a cute boy at school and suddenly I’m the catalyst for vampire divorce.” She tensed at your use of the v-word in such a public place, but you ignored her. “I’m not asking to pry into their entire lives—just the stuff that’s related to me. How truthful was Alice being about giving me her blessing—even if that blessing gave me the right to swoop in on her husband? How is Alice seeing us being together, if Jasper is so worked up and telling me he’ll never love me? I don’t want to embarrass anybody or cause any more harm than I already have. I just want clarity. That’s all. Is that too much to ask?”

Bella hesitated, her top teeth sinking slightly into her plump bottom lip. She clenched the towel wrapped around the ice pack. “It’s reasonable. Look, I’ll talk to Edward later and see what I can do. It’s no fun for the rest of us either, right now.”

You reached over and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you so much, Bella.” She pushed away from you, clutching her ankle and wincing in pain. “Sorry…”

 *

 The Cullens hadn’t been at school that day, meaning a full day without Jasper’s interventions. It was the first time since the moment you struck your deal with him that you had energy to spare. You could catch up on homework and pay attention to a movie and simply be without wanting to pass out from exhaustion. But being the glutton for punishment this whole scenario was turning you into, you called Jasper. He didn’t pick up. You tried again.

“(Y/N), I told you-” he started, but you cut through his deep voice with your own.

“I want to alter our arrangement. Can you come over?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I’ll see you soon.” You hung up. The house was empty and silent, save for the sound of a leaky tap that still needed fixing. To distract yourself as you waited, you tidied up a bit. You washed the pile of dishes in the sink and wiped down the kitchen counters. You picked up the piles of clothes on the floor in your bedroom and actually put them away, folding each garment and telling yourself; he’ll be here after I fold this one. But you remained alone. You pulled your phone out from your pocket and dialled his number again, only to hear a message tone.

Tears pricked in your eyes as you understood he wasn’t coming—that he didn’t care about you or how his gift was affecting you. Surely Alice had been teasing you; dangling your hopes and dreams right in front of your face as payback for all the trouble you had caused her. She and Edward were probably laughing about it right now; laughing at the pathetic human who thought they had a chance. You took a shaky breath and grabbed your coat.

 *

 The inside of Bella’s house was cosy. You sat together in her lounge room with a cup of hot chocolate. Chief Swan wouldn’t be home for a few hours, and you couldn’t wait any longer.

“He said no, didn’t he?”

“Edward is… old-fashioned-”

You scoffed. “He thinks I’m immoral, then. I get it.” Your grip on the warm mug tightened. Bella’s sleeves were crunched up in her palms, and her inner debate about whether to continue speaking was clear on her face.

“But we’ve talked about what’s happening with you and he mentioned some things he heard.” She gave you a knowing look.

“Words… or thoughts?” Her lack of response gave you your answer. You put the mug on the coffee table and glanced around, your voice lowering into a whisper. “Is it safe to talk here? I appreciate what you’re doing, but I don’t want to ruin another relationship by involving myself.”

“They’re out hunting today. They’ll find out eventually, but nothing will happen. The Cullens are good, they don’t hurt people.” It wasn’t as though you thought Jasper was planning on killing you to protect his marriage. But you let her go on, dying to receive the intel you desperately needed. “We were driving home in my truck on the first day I transferred to your English class. I knew nothing at first, but when you started asking specific questions, I told Edward. He explained the situation to me—that by that point, you were on the path to discovery no matter what they did about it. I asked him if I could do anything to help, but he said it was useless. All of their energy had to be focused on making sure you accepted the truth instead of exposing them for what they are. Right as you figured it out, he told me Alice had a new vision that was split into two parts. While they were happy you wouldn’t do anything rash, the sight of you kissing Jasper-”

“Kissing-”

“-got them a little riled up at first.” She misread the look of astonishment on your face for one of fear. “Not at you, at him.”

“Jasper won’t have anything to do with me, though. How did we even get to that point?”

“Edward didn’t mention that, but said in passing how they both feel about it. Alice is devastated. Her entire world is crumbling, but she has enough grace and trust in her gift to let it be. She’s been thinking about leaving. There’s a ‘cousin coven’ in Alaska that she’s been contemplating staying with until things blow over. Jasper won’t let her go. No matter what she says to him, he refuses to leave her. He’s hell-bent on rejecting you -… sorry. But Edward said that when he suffocates your affection for him like you agreed, he isn’t happy. Jasper doesn’t enjoy doing it. Edward said that a part of Jasper likes that you like him.”

You couldn’t speak and only stared at Bella with an open mouth. Nothing he had done had showed that he liked your attention—even a tiny shred of it. Your blood boiled within your veins as you hardened your jaw and asked Bella through clenched teeth, “In what way?”

She looked at you, the alabaster skin on her forehead creasing with concern. “Edward didn’t elaborate. It could be reciprocation, but it could also be him just missing the attention? If I ask about it now, he’ll know what I’m doing so that’s all I can tell you at the moment.” She took a sip from her own hot chocolate, her long sleeves now wrinkled, and added, “It sounds like he’s conflicted.”

Your guilty heart skipped a beat as the words left Bella’s mouth. Images of Jasper Hale dipping you into a passionate kiss took over your mind, and you started feeling warmer. Perhaps you shouldn’t have doubted Alice’s gift right off the bat. What if it was going to happen? What if Jasper was only being harsh with you to stop himself from being too tender? You sculled your hot chocolate and slammed the mug back on the coffee table a little too hard; causing Bella to jump at your sudden action. You had to see Jasper again; and no matter how hard he tried to avoid you, you would make another meeting happen. You would ask him to tell you precisely what he was feeling, even if you needed to humiliate yourself once more to do it. 

So, you thanked Bella and rushed to your car. The sound of the roaring engine gave you a rush of adrenaline as you followed the roads of Forks—from memory—to the Cullens’ house. A thousand things were going through your mind, but you pushed them aside and pressed harder on the accelerator. As the lights and buildings morphed into a thick wall of trees, you could see the bright colours of the Cullens’ house peeking through the cedars. And waiting by the front of the property, arms crossed and fists clenched, was Jasper; whose eyes were burning holes through your skin.

*

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @eggmettcullen @scuzmunkie @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oi-itsemily @cacti-succulents-andlesbians @aw0kenangel @jelly-fishy-babie @kawaiikpoplover268 @awkwardnesshabitat @salsameter @dillybuggg @awesomebooklover17 @badgirlsdeaddreams @raindancer2004 @camillapad @champagnejoker @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @starrybumbles @bubblegumcat229 @boywivlove @mauvette268 @pleasantlycrazyworld @dissatisfactionbuthuman 

[ciggylungz]

Worship me- chapter.2

Worship me- Chapter 2

Warnings: abusive family, arranged marriage, talk of sexual abuse/ child marriage, talk about religion and other triggering themes. (lots of angst as well)

Word count: 2.6k

Last chapter recap: Her fingers gripped her phone tightly as she typed in his number, writing him a text

‘Harry, it’s Y/n are you awake?”

His response was quick, maybe 30 seconds after she’d sent hers

‘yea, what’s up? You alright? Feeling better?’

A fresh wave of tears were building in her eyes, shaky fingers typing out her next message

‘no, Harry please help me. I’m scared please.’

The word that best describes Harrys current state is : panic.

As soon as he read her response his heart started to race, hands itching to clench into fists and his stomach felt like it’s been punched by Mike Tyson. He didn’t understand why he felt this surge of emotion, he’s not used to experiencing empathy or concern for people other than himself. He was a cold, confident and described as a ‘tough guy’ so he really didn’t know how to handle the way he was feeling right now, especially over his classmate. Harry was the type of guy who fucks and dumps a girl, he didn’t really care much but with y/n for some reason it was different and he didn’t know if he likes it or not.

‘what? What’s wrong Y/n?’

He was gnawing on his lip waiting for her reply, his forehead breaking out into a cold sweat from the stress when she took over three minutes to reply.

‘my parents hurt me Harry, please help me’

Immediately he was on his feet, marching towards his mothers room since she took his car keys at night, trying to prevent him from sneaking out at least on school nights. He didn’t care it was midnight, someone asked him for help and he was going to try his fucking hardest to do so.

“Mum! Mum please open the door! I need my keys it’s an emergency” Harry felt a bit guilty about pounding on his sleeping mothers door at such a late hour, but he has to focus on something else right now. When a sleepy confused Anne cracked her door open, squinting at the hall lights he took his chance to barge in, “Harry, what are you doing? What happened baby?” the boy plucked his car keys from the little bowl on her dresser turning back to his confused mum. “I’m sorry, I’ll explain later but my friend needs help. It’s Y/n, you know the girl I did a project with? The sweet one? She needs help. I love ya’ mum I’ll be safe I swear.” As soon as he entered the room, he left slipping his shoes on as he slipped out the door to rush to his car, fumbling with his phone to send another text to her.

‘I’m on my way, what’s the plan? Are your parents asleep?’

He cursed to himself when his nervous hands dropped his keys under his seat while on their way to be shoved into the ignition. His ringtone sounding deafening to his ringing ears.

‘They are still awake. This was a bad idea, I’m sorry for bothering you. I shouldn’t of overreacted.’

Y/n was shaking, her parents had come knocking on her door just as Harry texted her about his whereabouts and she immediately knew she wouldn’t be getting out of there and she was stuck doing damage control through a text while trying to stuff her phone under her mattress so her parents didn’t break down her door. She somehow managed to do it all in 10 seconds, swinging her door open to reveal her mother. Y/n shivered from the look her mother was giving her. She knew what was going to happen and she wanted to vomit from it. Her parents would force her to do ‘purity checks’ whenever they thought she was disobeying god. It was a humiliating experience, painful and it made her feel sick every time. she felt stripped of all security and privacy when her mother did a gynecologist type exam on the young girl to make sure her hymen is still intact justifying it saying, ‘when you disrespect god, we have to make sure you aren’t doing it from lack of purity’ ‘no husband will want a dirty girl’ ‘it makes god happy’, but it didn’t make Y/n happy. It made her scared, it felt wrong but she knew she didn’t have a choice and she was royally fucked if Harry was still on his way there.

Her tongue was numb from how hard she had bitten down on it, silent tears puddling at the side of her face while her mother did her ‘check’ on her daughter. Y/n was mortified, felt entirely violated and was trying to resist the urge to vomit. Y/n has started to disassociate during stressful times like this. She forced her mind to go else ware so she wouldn’t completely break down. If she let her mind convince her she was on the beach, wrapped in a warm towel with the sunsetting it made the reality less loud to her.

Her lucid state vanished as her mother removed herself from between her legs, noting she was still ‘pure’ and ‘valuable for trade’. The dehumanizing way of speaking, truly and deeply made Y/n feel like nothing more than an object. A possession that’s meant to be bought and sold, rather then the young woman she was growing to be. Feeling worthless was something she was becoming accustomed too even when it made her feel like maybe, life wasn’t worth living anymore. She didn’t like feeling like this.

The tears didn’t seem to stop while she walked into her bathroom, dipping her head down to take a sip of water from the faucet to try to soothe her pounding head.

When she was sure everyone else was asleep, she felt grabbed her phone from under her mattress finding loads of messages from Harry.

‘what? Love, you’re scaring me what’s going on?’

‘I’m coming anyway, I don’t care.’

‘I’m outside, whenever you see this let me know because I’m not leaving I’m parked by the end of the block.’

‘Y/n please, please answer me. you’re not okay I know it’

y/n was conflicted. She felt trapped, her way out was so close yet felt so fucking far. She didn’t know what to do, her head felt like it was going to explode.

‘sorry, my mum came in and did a purity check. Had to hide my phone. I’m sorry I scared you I shouldn’t have said anything. You can go home I’m sorry Harry.’

Harry lifted his forehead off his steering wheel when he heard his phone go off, a frown etched deep on his face while he read it. What the fuck is a purity check? Why is she defending her parents? Why is she apologizing for asking for help? It didn’t sit right with him, not one bit. Harry had met y/n’s father once at a school event and he didn’t like the vibe he gave off in the slightest. He reminded him of how the handsy priests looked at the young girls at school, her father had cold eyes was basically emotionless and spoke about Y/n like she was a dog or an object. It made his skin crawl then, and now more than ever his alarm bells were going off. Harry was good at reading people and energy they gave off. He was associated with drug dealers, and other not so savory characters and he had a good reader on for when they were sketchy, or untrustworthy and her father definitely gave that vibe.

‘no, y/n I’ll break into your house if I have to. You either come with me willingly or I come in and get you. I’m not leaving without you.’

His response woke Y/n up a bit. She was reminded why she asked for help earlier, the feelings coming back completely. And so, she listened. When she heard the soft snores start to grow louder coming from her parents’ room, she started quietly gathering up a small bag with her phone, a charger, her school bag and a toothbrush. She was still dressed in her school uniform from earlier, she never had a chance to change. Her knuckles were swollen, bruised and aching while she zipped the bag tiptoeing down the steps and fleeing through the door in only her tight clad feet dashing towards Harry’s car.

 Harry jumped when he heard the sudden knocking on her car window, seeing Y/n he immediately unlocked the door breathing a sigh of relief when she hopped in the car. He felt better knowing she was with him now, she was safe for the time being, and as soon as he looked at her, she burst into tears. Big fat tears coming from her pretty eyes, rushing down her cheeks as choked sobs rattled through her throat. He felt a foreign pang in his chest seeing the usual sunny girl breaking down in front of him. “Here, hey c’mere.” He spoke softly to her, his hands moving to bring her over into his lap using his free one to pull a lever so the seat slides back to give them enough space for her to be held securely in the older boys embrace. “it’s okay, everything’s gonna be alright. You’re safe, I’m not going to hurt you. Not gonna let them hurt you either. Breathe Y/n breathe, god you’re shaking like a leaf darling.” He kept his tone level and soft while he spoke to her, stroking her back and hair trying to calm her down enough so he can drive them somewhere safer.

Y/n sat herself up a bit to wipe her eyes, only then did Harry see the damage on her poor hands. It looked horrible, how someone’s knuckles look after punching a concreate wall. He gently took her hands in his, looking over the injury sucking in a pained breath “Christ love, what did they do to you? Does it hurt? can you bend them?” she nodded and showed him how she could still ball her fists even with the bad pain, which showed him they weren’t broken.

“C-can we le-leave please? Y-you can drop m-me at the school and I’ll c-camp out there till we have class. I don’t have anywhere e-else to. I c-can go back home if yo-you want me to-“ she was rambling, she felt like a burden. Y/n really didn’t know where to go from here, where did she even have to go? Her sisters were hours away with their husbands, she didn’t have any friends and there was no where to go. “No no, you can come to my house. Not letting you sleep outside that shithole. Can come to my house, promise I won’t hurt ya’”

At this point she was too tired to fight, too upset to refuse so she simply nodded and let him place her back in her seat and make the drive towards his home.

“Here, drink some water. Do you want to change hon?” Harry had Y/n sit on the couch as they got into his home, handing her a bottle of water before sitting on the coffee table in front of her. “No, I don’t have any clothes. I’ll just keep this on since we have school in a few hours. I’ll just have to wait to get home before I can change.” Y/n wasn’t really understanding the situation at hand, she didn’t see the turmoil around her like Harry did. “No no, we’re taking the day off school and you’re not going back home till I know what the hell is going on there. you can wear some of my clothes. They’ll be big on you but it’s better than our shitty uniform.” He insisted, holding her chin to make her look at him. “Harry those are bad words, shouldn’t say that.” Her reply was soft, reminding him she still was y/n sweet and innocent. But right now, he needed to be the mature and brutally honest person for her because she was clueless.

With some gentle convincing Y/n finally agreed to change. He gave her privacy while she changed into the baggy sweat pants and hoodie that seemed to swallow her since they were so large. Harry thinks she’s never looked smaller, more fragile, or cuter. But right now wasn’t for crushes or cuteness, this was a time to take care of the girl. “Comfortable? Good, here finish the water and eat a few of these crackers. Can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the couch yea?”

She did as she was told, sipping the water till it was gone and munching on the saltines while she sat on his bed laying down when she was finished.

Harry took a blanket and pillow downstairs and started to situate himself on the couch, getting himself comfortable before a soft padding on the steps caught his attention and there was Y/n standing with misty eyes holding one of his blankets in her hand. “What’s wrong love?” “Scared…scared to be alone I’m sorry…c-can you stay with me please? Or i-I can sleep on the floor while you sleep on the couch so I’m not alone?” Harry took a few moments to think her words over, his mind slow from his tiredness but Y/n in her fragile state took this as a dismissal and so she nodded to herself and sniffled, “It’s okay, sorry for asking…sleep well Harry.” Before he could respond she had rushed back up the steps and into his room. She felt embarrassed, small and vulnerable. Her mind screaming, she was ‘stupid’ for even asking him that, she was convinced he only pitied her and that’s why she’s here. She couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone actually wanting her around or caring about how she feels. While in her current mental state with the loud thoughts banging on the inside of her skull, she started putting her things back in her bag, planning to leave so he could sleep without being bothered by her.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s voice seemed 10 times louder as he stood against his doorframe, rubbing his tired eyes while watching Y/n scramble to collect her belongings. Her movements halted instantly, nerves making her feel sick yet again. “W-was just gonna go home. I’m sorry I shouldn’t of come here, you did so much for me I just have to change and I’ll be gone, I’m sorry.” Her speech was frantic, fumbling her words a bit as she tried to rush it out. “What? Is this because of what you asked? Love I’m sleepy took me a minute to form coherent words. Relax put the bag down, lay down I’ll stay with you.”

When she didn’t react he took it upon himself to remove the bag from her shaky bruised hands, gently placing it on his desk and guiding her to lay in his bed moving in next to her before flipping the lights off.

“Harry?” her voice was mouse like, but he still heard it. “yea love?” his hand searched for hers in the dark, “Thank you for helping me…means a lot…i-I’m afraid Harry...” once he grabbed her hand he remembered it was injured, opting to wrap his arm around her shoulders instead. “Scared of what Y/n?” there was a few beats of silence before she timidly answered, “My parents…and God”

Harry took a deep breath before responding, “Well, you don’t need to be scared of God. You’ve done nothing wrong. Your parents are going to be punished by him, not you. And for your parents…can you please tell me what is going on?”

“what do you want to know?”

[cinanamon]

body & blood — pjm (m)

pairing | jimin x reader

genre | angst, smut, vampire!au, high society!au, mutual pining!au

word count | 5.5K

synopsis | Jimin has been in love with you for the past century, but ever since you’ve been betrothed, he can’t help but feel guilty.

warning | biting, blood, gore. smut: body worship, penetration, unsafe sex

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“What do you mean? It’s literally been decided for a couple decades now.”

Jimin groaned and dropped his head in his hands. Taehyung glanced around the dark walls of the stone gazebo for any prying eyes before clearing his throat.

“Jimin, look,” Taehyung paused as he caught sight of a few guests greeting each other by the decorative iron gate, cloaks hiding their figures from the waning dusk. He coaxed Jimin more into the shadows before continuing. “You guys don’t have to get along at first; it’s normal. You’re going to be stuck together for the next millennium so no one is going to expect you guys to love each other.”

“But that’s what I want, Taehyung!” Jimin lamented as he raised his head, “I’ve had a crush on her for the last century, and now that we’ve been arranged it’s like—I don’t want her to be stuck with me.”

Taehyung sighed but patted Jimin’s arm empathetically. “Well you have time on your side. She’ll have to get used to you at some point.”

Jimin wailed again as Taehyung heard sharp footfalls down the stone steps to their left before he saw Jungkook appear, his eyes glowing red as he leaned against a column.

“Are you guys ready? Your dad’s getting impatient, Jimin.” Jimin felt his cold blood freeze in his veins as he looked between his two lifelong friends.

“Why? The sun hasn’t even fully set yet!”

“Most of the guests are here already; who would miss the union of the two highest-standing vampires’ offspring?”

Jimin cried in his head that he wished everyone would have missed it, but he kept his mouth shut; instead, Jimin pressed his lips together anxiously. “How does she look?”

Jungkook chuckled, his fanged teeth shining in the pale light emitting from the lantern above. “She looks beautiful, as always; when you stop being a baby bat then you can catch a glimpse of her for yourself.”

Jimin scowled lightly but still didn’t move, simply crossing his arms and looking up at the large cathedral to their right. Taehyung looked down and sighed again. “Jimin, why do you think she hates you? You’re not a burden. Maybe you’ve been too shy to talk to her for the past decade because of your betrothal, but we still talk to her; she doesn’t hate you.”

“Well she will. We’re being married against our will. She’s probably disgusted at me and my family name.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and guffawed. “When has it ever seemed like she hated the idea?” Jimin opened his mouth to list times where you seemed even slightly irritated by him, but Jungkook interrupted him. “She never argued with her parents about the betrothal, and for Chris—“ he choked on the holy word and coughed, rephrasing, “for Dracula’s sake, she’s standing up there with your family waiting for you.”

Jimin warily eyed the peaks of the cross at the top of the church before meeting Jungkook’s eye, “she’s been ignoring me since.”

“Correction,” Taehyung butted in, his gaze pointed and brows raised, “you’ve been ignoring her since.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, “I have not been—“

“You’ve been staring at her love struck for the past hundred years, Jimin! You’re so afraid of rejection that you’ve been limiting contact with her; all she wants is to talk to you, and you refuse to open up!” Jungkook exasperatedly cried.

Jimin finally turned around in a flurry of motion, an expression of anguish and fear upon his face. “She doesn’t want to be with me! And even if she does now, she won’t after we’re married because she’ll see that I don’t live up to my family name or our pure blood—“

“Jimin, I have been hearing this for the past fifty years so if you don’t get up there now, I will make you.” Taehyung cut him off, but his voice was not affectionate and understanding like before; this one was curt and low like a growl, fitting to the warning he gave. Even Jungkook had stiffened; when Taehyung made a threat, he promised to keep it.

Jimin dropped his hands to his side and looked at his best friend helplessly. He had been friends with the boy since the bubonic plague. Their bond strengthened into the age of colonization until they finally reached the modern times of the 21st century—Jimin always thought the Victorian age had suited Taehyung best—but Jimin had learned one thing about Taehyung through all the growing pains; Taehyung always meant well.

Jimin sucked in his breath. If Taehyung thought this was good for him—that he was overthinking it all—then maybe he was, and maybe things would work out.

Jimin met Taehyung’s focused red eyes before drifting to Jungkook’s curious, waiting ones. Finally, he exhaled. “Okay. I’m ready.” Taehyung closed his eyes and sighed as he relaxed before he ushered Jimin down the gazebo steps.

Jungkook took the lead at Taehyung’s nod, who began to adjust Jimin’s suit and fix his black hair into a neat position as they ascended the steps. Jimin thought his undead heart might just start beating.

Since they were cursed by God, they couldn’t truly enter the church and hold a marriage service, so instead they had set up in the gardens just outside, so that the cathedral’s magnificence could act as a backdrop to the night’s ceremony.

“We’re behind schedule,” Jungkook warned over his shoulder as they reached the top of the steps. Instantly, all of the guests turned on their benches to focus on them with their haunting scarlet gazes. Jimin froze, but Jungkook and Taehyung patted his back roughly as they ducked to the side to take their spot by the pedestal.

Jimin forced himself to move his legs and advance towards the altar before his father could become angrier by his impunctuality and fear. He kept his gaze away from the front—away from you—and he held his breath as he took in each bench he passed.

Well, there were Taehyung’s parents; they owned a prosperous tobacco farm from when Jamestown had been established, and their family business was still going strong. And to his right were the Jungs, who had been gifted metalworkers who, during the medieval age, used to make armor and weaponry but now carved delicate and beautiful jewelry. He ticked off each powerful family in his head as he passed each row, and when he made it to the pedestal, he forced himself to step up.

Now, Jimin had to look up, and he was terrified. He swallowed harshly and lifted his gaze; first to his best men, but at Taehyung’s pointed glare, he switched his gaze to what was before him and his breath hitched in his throat.

You were waiting before the altar—or, moreso his father’s supposed resting place, but since his father was undead it was better suited as an altar—with the closest they had to a priest beside you. And the only thing coming to Jimin’s blank mind was that you were beautiful. You were wearing something akin to a wedding dress—white, even though no vampire was pure—but it appeared from the past century, old and lacy with long billowing sleeves and a long train. You peered at him with red eyes and a red lip behind a thin veil, your hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of your neck. With how many compliments Jimin received about his appearance, he still felt like he could never compare his beauty to your own.

Jimin nearly stumbled as he came to stand across from you, and although his limbs moved slowly, his mind raced a mile a minute.

You looked up at Jimin under your lashes and though your face was cold, you offered a soft simper that Jimin questioned was even real. The priestly man before the both of you cleared his throat; he could not hold a bible in his hands without being burned, so he seemed to speak from memory or from his own variation.

“We gather here today to witness the union of two children of the night; the two purest of our breed. They have been betrothed in order to strengthen the blood of our creation; it is this union that will mark the beginning of a new age.”

Jimin found it hard to swallow as he listened to the man’s words, but his eyes never strayed from you. He knew this marriage was not upon love—marriage between vampires, for how long they lasted, never did—but he couldn’t help but wish that maybe you saw this as more than a kind of business deal.

“Jimin, son of the Parks, one of the first of the pureblooded vampires: do you accept this woman to be your wife?”

You dropped your gaze from the preacher to meet his, and Jimin found your piercing gaze to be like knives that struck him to where he stood, rendering him useless; your gaze was not hostile, but they were deep, and that almost scared Jimin more. “I do.”

“And do you, matron of the night, accept this man to be your husband?”

And the vibrancy of your gaze sent chills down his spine. “I do.”

The preacher made a quick motion of his hand and Taehyung stepped up from the side to present a set of gold rings to the man. Jimin instantly recognized them as the family heirlooms of his family, the rings that had been passed down to each couple as they married for the last six eras. Jimin had little time to ponder what his parents wore now instead as the man handed the fuller band to you.

You gingerly lifted the ring so that the arriving moonlight could gaze upon it and reflect its beauty and shine before you lowered a hand to grasp Jimin’s. He jerked slightly in surprise, but you tightened your hold to raise his hand so it was between both of your chests. As you slipped the ring upon his third left finger, you fluttered your gaze to his, and Jimin felt as if he could die right then, if he weren’t undead, of course.

You kept a tight hold upon your conjoined hands, as the preacher handed Jimin the other gold ring with a beautiful diamond built into it. Jimin stared at it in a daze for a minute before he stretched out to find your free hand. You brought it up with ease, but within his palm it shook. You steadied it gently and Jimin’s eyes darted to yours. Again, they gave nothing away; you just looked upon him with a cool gaze of intrigue. Jimin took a deep breath before he let the ring glide around your own finger. Now, both of your hands were clasped between where your unbeating hearts lied.

The preacher made no cue, but now Jungkook stepped forward. From his belt he produced a thin, silver knife engraved in old Latin, with gemstones lining the hilt. Jimin knew this part.

The man accepted it and without a word, both you and Jimin opened your left hands so your palms faced upwards.

He did not hesitate and promptly sliced open the skin of both of your palms. Blood came to the surface instantly, and neither of you wasted time in clasping each other’s hands tightly, so that your blood mixed.

“Now their blood has been joined; in body and soul, these children have been wed. May they spend the rest of eternity together, till death do they part.” As if to mark the end of the ceremony, your bonded blood pooled within your hands and trailed along your skin before splattering upon the cobblestone in large, red specks.

Jimin let his eyes trace up your arm to the curve of your jaw till he let himself meet your eyes once more. They were entrancing; you already had your eyes set upon him, and he let his gaze linger as the guests began to mingle and leave the garden to retire back to his parents’ home for the banquet.

Jimin knew in regular human weddings, the ceremony was sealed with a kiss. Jimin wondered now what it would be like to kiss you, to feel your soft, red lips meld against his, to feel you whisper against his own. And even though you were now married, he felt like he didn’t have the right to do so.

He tore his hazy gaze away from your own and peeled his hand away as well; by now, the blood had begun to dry and was oddly sticky, as if unwilling to let you separate and end the wedding. Jimin winced as he looked upon his palm; the wound had already begun to heal, leaving behind a raised line where the blade had cut. Jimin closed his fist and offered you a tight smile.

You blinked at him, as if you yourself were also starting to realize the reality of your relationship and that his blood was now flowing within you. You delicately extended your hand outwards, and Jimin instinctively accepted it with his unmarked hand. He helped you step down from the pedestal, and the ground seemed to be unsteady beneath you now as you leaned into his side.

Jimin uneasily remembered his prior fears, so he subtly stepped away once you found your footing. He missed the way you looked at him wistfully as he guided you out of the garden and walked you to his family home, your new home. Would he never return the affection you held for him? Would he forever keep his distance, like he did for the past decade? You had never before desired so terribly the touch of another being.

The walk to his family’s home was silent, and not necessarily pleasant. You both snuck each other glances, but neither spoke a word of it; neither of you seemed to be so sure what they meant. Once you arrived, there were cheers of congratulations that greeted you and enveloped you in its pride. You sent back smiles of thanks, but once sat at the head table, both of your expressions were blank.

There was no true joy for either of you. The congratulations was mainly for both of your parents, for their tactful union of the purest blood. It wasn’t happiness based on love and emotion, simply strategy.

And so you sat in polite silence. You both drank the wine from your glasses and drank the blood from the lamb presented on your plates. Satisfied, you then carefully threw the meat to the bloodhounds that sat amongst your feet; the beasts greedily accepted the lamb and began to tear through the muscle, snapping the bones within with ease.

You took another sip of your wine and looked upon your new husband; Jimin refused to meet your gaze, instead studying the group of noble vampires who mingled before you. You placed down your glass with resolve; you could not live for eternity beside this man if it would be like this.

You stood and softly brushed your hand upon Jimin’s shoulder so he was forced to gaze upon you, but you only met his gaze mysteriously before ducking out of the banquet hall. No one seemed to notice the newlyweds’ absence as Jimin followed you in a hurried sense of curiosity.

You had begun to explore his family’s gothic home, and you chose not to respond to Jimin’s hushed call for you. With no response, Jimin was left to reluctantly follow and fall into step beside you. He must have realized that he would have to wait for when you were ready, and so he fell silent as he watched you study the paintings of his ancestors and the antiques.

It wasn’t until you were thoroughly lost and deeply satisfied with your search that you spoke, your voice soft, mellow.

“I’m glad it was you.”

Jimin’s eyes widened and he snapped his neck to look at you directly, but you had still not taken your gaze off of the wall. Your face began to glow a warm yellow as you approached another wall light at a leisurely pace, but Jimin felt as if you were glowing from within. After all, this was the first time you had directly talked to him for the last ten years. Whether that was his or your fault, he didn’t want to claim.

When he failed to respond to you, you finally turned your head so your eyes could meet his. Instantly, the closer half of your face fell into a blue shadow, and Jimin’s breath hitched at your narrowing gaze. “Did you not hear me or do you not reciprocate?”

“I—“ Jimin fumbled over his words; he couldn’t think straight around you. What were you thinking? What was appropriate? “I heard.”

Finally, you halted in the center of the hall. He couldn’t help but think that you seemed to replicate a picture of his great grandmother in her own wedding dress on the wall behind you, her expression stern and bouquet limp in her hands. Or maybe you were more akin to a ghost as your figure swayed in the luminosity of the moonlight, shining on your pale skin as if it were a pearl and rendering the lace of your gown transparent.

Jimin didn’t seem to have enough time to ponder as you frowned and your firm voice filtered through his ears again. “Did you not wish to be wed to me?”

He choked. Where did you get that idea? “Not at all!” He eyed you incredulously before he took in your appearance; you looked so bitter as you wrung your hands, as if you were sure he didn’t want to be with you. He couldn’t bear to see you as such, so anguished, and so he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. You didn’t interrupt him as he gathered his thoughts; you simply watched him with a guarded sense of hope.

Jimin, for once, let go of all his fears and doubts; if he had guessed wrong, then you could spend the rest of your marriage hating him. As long as he came clean, he could live with it.

He finally opened his eyes and let out a long, drawn out sigh. His eyes trailed to you and you seemed to accept the tired yet emotional intensity in their depths, as if he was too tired to keep anything from you anymore. Again he sighed; a soft, lovesick sigh as he let himself openly admire you as he admitted, “Truly, I’ve wished to be wed to you for as long as I’ve lived.”

You stiffened. Your hands clenched each other at the base of your torso and your lips were taut, but your eyes never left his own, searching for some kind of clue that he was being untrue. “You have not so much as dared look at me for the past ten years.”

“I have,” Jimin countered without missing a beat. Where was this confidence coming from? He took a cautious step closer to you and he bit his lip. “I’ve fancied you from afar for a century; it was the engagement that terrified me enough to pull away.”

“Why?” You breathed, and your voice cracked as you felt his hand slip into yours. “What would terrify you about our betrothal? Wouldn’t that make you happy?” Tears began to prick at your eyes.

“It would,” he carefully said, his eyes peeking up at yours as he drew closer. You could feel his breath fan across your face as he whispered, “but this betrothal wasn’t made between us. It wasn’t for us.”

You felt Jimin’s other hand gingerly wipe a stray tear from your cheek, but you never looked away from his red eyes as you understood, your lips parting. “Do you wish it was a marriage sealed with a kiss instead of blood?”

And Jimin inhaled sharply as he rested his hand upon your cheek to caress it. He tilted his head so your lips lingered an inch away from his. “Yes,” your hand tightened around his, “I do.” And then he pressed his lips to yours.

It was not hasty or rushed at your sudden confessions, but rather slow and gentle, simply relishing in the feeling of each other’s lips against your own. After all, you did have all the time in the world.

It was a strange change, for as long as you’ve lived, you have never indulged in such feelings with another vampire. It was common for vampires to fool around with humans as they came of age, but moreso because it was an easy way to get humans to let their guard down enough to drink their blood. But to kiss without ulterior motives, to kiss based on emotion, was foreign to your race. But it was a pleasant change, you now knew for certain as you felt Jimin’s plush lips slip against your own, his fangs gently nipping at your lower lip.

You raised your arms from your sides so you could glide them along his shoulders, where they then settled on either side of his neck to hold him close to you with gentle caresses. Jimin was still slow in his movements as he mimicked your sentiments to drape his own arms over your waist, his hands firmly planting themselves on the small of your back.

Though your tears had dried, you still felt the pricking sensation at the corners of your eyes as you separated. You both kept your eyes closed as you breathed together, your noses brushing against each other. When your eyes did flutter open, you felt swallowed by the adoration in Jimin’s gaze. You mindlessly let your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, and his own grip tightened upon you as a cloud passed before the moon, casting you both in shadow and the minimal yellow glow of the wall lights.

In the darkness, Jimin’s red eyes seemed to shine even more radiantly, pulling you to him like a lighthouse pulled in ships at sea. And it was unspoken as you disentangled yourselves enough for him to grab your hand and guide you behind him, farther into the maze of the gothic home.

He escorted you into his bedroom, and the moon seemed to know what your plan was as it beamed upon the bed, the white sheets gleaming under its scrutiny. Jimin’s touch was gentle as he pulled you towards him so your fronts were flush against each other, and he caught both your wrists within his hold as he chased your lips.

This time, the kiss was a little firmer, proving that you were there and he was true. His hands seared their way down your forearms and under the billowing sleeves of your dress. It seemed to prove as another hindrance as Jimin dragged his lips below your jaw, but could not venture farther behind the turtleneck collar.

Jimin exhaled audibly through his nose, but he carefully turned you around. You complied and waited with bated breath as you heard the tight buttons down your spine begin to pop open, one by one. The prickling sensation of each was quickly replaced by his pillow-y lips, and he must have felt the shiver that traveled down your spine in the same direction his butterfly kisses were headed. His hands crawled up your shoulder blades as his lips explored, and they began to peel the dress off your shoulders. And as his lips met the curve at the base of your spine, the rest of your dress followed suit as it bunched you around your hips. You heard Jimin’s quiet chuckle but you were too focused for blood to rush to your cheeks. Jimin smoothly drew the dress the rest of the way down the expanse of your legs, and he knelt so it was easier for you to step out of it.

The second you were fully free of the gown, you found yourself gracefully sat upon the edge of the bed. Jimin’s eyes glimmered as he took you in, as if he still couldn’t believe that he was the one you chose to accept as not only your husband, but as your lover. To the both of you, that made all the difference.

Something seemed to burn within him suddenly, and he tore off his overcoat and hastily unbuttoned his dress shirt. You greedily took in the sight of his exposed and toned skin, and you couldn’t wait to let your hands explore it much the same as your eyes did. His chest rose up and down rapidly, as if gulping for air as he met your gaze heatedly again.

Though, you took note, he had not risen from his knelt position yet; instead, he moved closer to you and gently cupped your heel within his palm. Just like at the wedding, you simply studied him with a calm gaze of curiosity; you and Jimin were too sure of each other now to be ashamed.

Jimin kept his gaze trained upon yours as he lowered his lips to caress your ankle. He lowered his eyes as he brushed his lips upwards, under your calf and briefly mouthing at your knee before traveling along your inner thigh. Your hands found their place in his hair now, gently tugging his attention from your leg back to your face. His pupils were dilated and you were sure yours were blown just as wide, from lust and devotion. Your hand skimmed down over his cheek until you reached the lips he had just worshiped you with. You thumbed at the slowly reddening skin, softly pulling his bottom lip down until it slipped back into place.

Jimin let out a shaky breath before he began to stand up, pushing you down into the bed in the process till he loomed over you and between your legs. Again, it felt as if the wind had been knocked out of your lungs as you admired Jimin’s flushed cheeks and his undoing. You went to cup his cheeks in your hands, but Jimin’s will was stronger than your own as he grasped the hand over his mouth and pulled it outwards.

You were left to watch as his attention fell upon your conjoined hands, your palm upwards. His eyes studied the matching scar from the blade in silence with a sort of reverence as he stroked it softly. He then lowered his head and—just as he did to your leg—he pressed a light kiss upon it. He took the gentle, meaningful pecks down the extent of your arm, the hollow of your elbow, and up to your shoulder till his dark hair tickled your jaw.

You let him continue his ministrations in silence, for you trusted Jimin; Jimin had never been one to be dishonest or disreputable, for the hundreds of years you had known him. And now, he was your husband, even closer than so; Jimin was to be your other half, whether your kind realized that or not.

You closed your eyes as Jimin traveled from your collarbone to the curvature of your throat, where he had wanted to be before when your dress was in the way. He planted another loving kiss upon your neck before you felt his fangs prick your skin. Your eyes snapped open and widened as he bit you and began to drink a small amount of your blood.

You couldn’t recall a time when a vampire had bit another; there was no need. Blood was a food source, and was only substantial when taken from a living being. You were not alarmed for it was only Jimin, and the bite ended nearly as soon as he began, but it still left you perplexed.

As Jimin pulled away and dislodged his fangs, he let out a low groan in the quiet of the room, his hands subconsciously tightening around your forearms.

You kept your gaze trained on the ceiling instead of straining yourself to see him below your jaw, and you stretched your neck subtly, the muscles within flexing. “How was it?”

Jimin chuckled lightly, and it tickled your throat. “Your blood is delectable.”

You raised a brow and let out a quiet, airy laugh. “Truly? Better than the lamb’s at dinner? Better than a young mundane woman’s?”

Jimin lifted himself now, and the humor within you died at the seriousness and intimacy of his gaze as he leveled his face with yours. “Truly,” his bangs skimmed along your forehead as his eyes bore into yours, causing your throat to go dry. His eyes lidded as he lowered himself, his lips moving against yours as he whispered, “It is sweet.” And once more, the heavens graced you by having his lips against yours.

It was one thing to give your blood in union with a vampire, but it was another to give your body. Your own moved against his without either of you needing to consciously think about it, your bodies naturally in sync to reach an end goal of ecstasy. Jimin’s hands loosened around your arms to push your legs farther aside, and you took the chance to trace along his ribs, to caress where his abdomen and chest met.

Jimin separated from you with a gasp, and he hastily began to kiss down the length of your sternum and between the thin, lacey band of your bra. He pecked the top of your stomach before he pulled away fully, his chest heaving and skin just as sweaty as yours. He pulled your panties down the expanse of your legs before he undid his belt and pushed his trousers down to his knees to discard of them off the side of the bed.

Once there were no more barriers, Jimin lunged back over you with a new vigor to connect your lips harshly. The air of intimacy had shifted from soft and unbelieving to passionate and desperate; you didn’t have a true preference between either as he settled his elbows on either side of your head and entered you.

Your back arched and hands flew to his shoulder blades as you tried to stifle a low moan. Jimin hungrily accepted your sounds with his unforgiving kiss, and they seemed to act as encouragement for him to pick up a quick pace. Though it seemed merciless in action, you knew Jimin was ardent and tender; your pleasure was his goal in his bruising pace.

You kept your lips pressed together firmly for the duration of your race to finish, and your hands were frantic on each other, taking hold of whatever heated skin you could touch.

Your finally gasped and your legs tightened around Jimin’s middle, keeping him tight against your core. Your hands nearly choked Jimin by their strength around the back of his neck, and he managed to open his bleary eyes enough to witness your pleasure. He moaned at the sight and feeling of you pulling him in, and his own sounds grew higher in pitch and in frequency before he himself let go, his hands coming to seize your hair in his grasp as he scrunched his eyes tight.

You both stayed in place for a few moments to catch your breath, your eyes staring into each other’s depths as your chests pressed together with every heave. With a soft groan, Jimin separated himself from you enough to give you room. He searched around the vicinity of the bed for anything to clean you off with, but when it turned up futile, he reluctantly pulled up the sheets and dragged it across your inner thighs to wipe off any of his release mixed with your own; you were both too hot for the sheet anyways.

He settled back down beside you with a sighed huff, and you instantly curled into his side so your head was upon his chest; instinctively, his own arm found its way around you to keep you close.

You both stared out the window at the moon who, since you were married earlier that evening, regarded you with its silent approval. Neither of you spoke, and Jimin lowered his head enough to place a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“I’m glad it was you.”

Your shoulders stiffened slightly as you turned over them to meet his gaze again. It was easy to get lost in his glowing eyes, for they told of an overflowing amount of emotion for you that would scare any other vampire.

You chose not to reply with words, instead lidding your gaze and gently pressing your lips to his like you did in the hallway; soft, plush, slow—the simple feeling of each other together.

To the rest of your vampire clan, your wedding was only another successful union of blood.

But to you, you and Jimin knew that your wedding was only sealed by a kiss.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@minsprings​ said “vampires” and I lost it

[romantic-barnes]

unintended | part three

| part three - time has come to make things right |

Parings: king!bucky x princess!reader

Summary: The moment you have come of age, you are being ripped out of the place you call home and into the kingdom of Cydonia ruled by King James, your betrothed. Neither of you pleased with the situation, neither of you being honest. Between fights, snarky remarks and glaring, do you find time to breathe? Is it possible to reconcile or even love one another?

Warnings: arranged marriage, insulting, being mean on purpose, a bit of a slow burn, the reader has a twin!

A/N: this is the third part of my entry in @sillyqt​​​ 1k writing challenge. I apologize that this took so long but I just needed to get this right!

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers​​

With your parents visiting, a dinner and ball were organized with it. The tailor made you a brand-new dress, red velvet fabric, the skirt flowing out from your waist. Natasha smiled proudly admiring the what she called masterpiece. She was responsible for the design of the dress, advising the tailor on what to add and what to leave out.

You looked in the mirror one more time, checking to make sure everything fit nicely. You pulled down the wide, off-shoulder straps once more. Natasha brought out the gold crown adorned with rubies and you grimaced at the thought of having to wear the heavy crown all night long, rubbing your neck already feeling the ache.

With your crown seated on the top of your head and a nod of approval from Natasha, you went about your way. You walked fast through the corridors, down the marble stairs, a wide smile on your face that you couldn’t resist. Seeing your parents after such a long time was agonizing.

You practically ran to your parents as soon as the door to the Dining hall was opened, wrapping your arms around both Tony and Pepper.

The servant brought your plate, setting it down in front of you. A look down to the food, you tilted your head, already raising your hand to call over the servant. There was nothing but meat, a single baby carrot for décor, but that was it. “I’m sorry, but I don’t eat meat.” You said to him and he took the plate right with him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry darlin’ I’m sure we can find a bit of bread for you.” James placed his hand on top of yours, smiling. You knew what he was doing, but you came prepared.

You had informed the staff in the kitchen that you were vegetarian, that when anything unfortunate happens, they had something they could do for you.

The same servant came back with your meal more to your liking, no meat in sight. A smirk spread across your face. “My King, how nice of you!” You squeezed his hand, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “He takes such good care of me father, having a meal especially for me prepared.” You looked at James lovingly, but you wanted to laugh at his face.

His jaw slightly open and speechless. You took a sip of your wine in victory. 

Conversation and wine flowed easily, the two fitting together perfectly. With your parents here, you felt a lot more comfortable. You rested your elbows on the table, laughed with your whole body. You missed this right here. No pretending, no forced conversation. 

This felt like home right here right now. 

After dinner, everyone flowed through the doors to the ball room. Chandeliers lighting the room with candles, throwing shadows in shape of the guests on the walls. 

This was it, the moment everyone had been waiting for. The moment your engagement to King James would be announced. The king led you up the few steps, your hand in his raised high for everyone to see. The small tiara weighing you down. A crown doesn’t tend to do that, but you knew that after you were married to James, you would be crowned Queen of Cydonia.

And that terrified you.

You hadn’t payed any attention to what the King had said, but you knew as soon as the guests clapped and your parents looked up at you, proud smiles on their lips. It was official. You were now engaged to King James.

He walked you to the middle of the room, all the guests scattered around you. With a swift move, James wrapped his arm around your waist, while the other held tightly onto your hand. The music started playing softly and James led you, guiding you across the floor. 

A familiar heat rose to your cheeks, the stares all around you making you terribly nervous. You weren’t really used to this, being in the foreground, but now that you were the future Queen, they had a right to look. A Queen can’t hide behind a candle stick, running off into the corridors to the garden. A Queen needs to be seen.

The music picked up a little pace and so did James, but he noticed your absence, the distance in your eyes as you gazed off to the distance passt his shoulder. He could sense the tightness in your muscles, your wandering eyes and he knew you were nervous. Truth be told that James sadly knew what this was like.

He knew when their eyes bored into him, his arm, his scars that he tensed up, looking anywhere except where he was supposed to look. 

He couldn’t quite tell why he got sad for you, the woman who mocked him, threw him into a pond. James couldn’t fit the pieces together but the truth was that he felt a pang of sadness. 

His arm tightened around you, trying to catch your attention without catching the attention from the ones around him. The moment your eyes met his, he gave you a gentle smile. “Our mothers seem to be quite happy.” James said, pointing to your’s and his mother with his eyes. 

Your head turned to them, watching as they talked, their eyes on you and James. You knew that your mother was happy seeing you dance with the King and you remembered how important it was to see you happy. She wold never want for your to be miserable. But the question was if you are. Are you miserable in his arms? When he took your hand, led you to the floor, did you want to slap him away? When he wrapped his arm around you, did you want to push him away? 

You eyes met James’ and the smile he wore irritated you. How can he be so nonchalant about this? 

It’s a show. A show for everyone in the room. 

“Of course they are, they think we’re in love.” 

���Aren’t we though?” James said, catching off guard. You tilted your head and the smirk on his lips made you squint your eyes at him. “I mean the purest form of love is shoving someone in a pond.”

“Don’t forget pretending to get seriously injured.” You looked lovingly at him, caressing his cheek with your hand.

James lost focus for a second feeling your warm hand on his cheek. If he didn’t know better he would think you were serious. You were very convincing, the look on your face melting his hart, but he caught the melting drips quickly. It’s dangerous to let you into his heart considering he knew for a fact that you hated him. He knew that just the sound of his name might make you puke, so his brain told him to shut his heart away from her. 

“How could I forget?” James pulled you closer, his beard scratching your skin as he placed a kiss on your cheek and you scrunched up your face in fake disgust.

“Ew, James don’t do that. I don’t want your saliva anywhere near my body.” You wiped your skin dramatically, but a smile spread across your face.

“Oh my love, once we’re married we’ll be doing more than just kissing.” James winked at you and your smile disappeared at the images flashing through your mind. 

Images of James shirtless, panting, breathless. His lips anywhere, hands roaming your skin. The thought of him so close and so intimate pushed your blood to your cheeks. 

You stared up at him, eyes wide and flushing and James couldn’t like how cute you looked. He knew what you thought about and his brain screamed at him again in loud volume to stop looking at her like that. 

The music faded out slowly, you and James pulled apart, eyes still locked. An odd atmosphere formed in between the space you and James created. But it wasn’t hateful nor was it spiteful, a feeling of mutual understanding, a feeling of truce of some sort. But the problem was that neither you nor James wanted to admit or give into it. 

With the floor filling with partners dancing happily, you and James distanced yourselves. You turned to walk over to a servant grabbing a glass of wine from the tray, gulping the red wine down in three. 

“For two people who despise each other, that was a pretty intimate dace.” Sam stood next to you, watching the crowd twirl around the room. He took a glass as well. 

“The things you do to come off convincing, Sam.” 

“There’s not a day I don’t wonder what went wrong with the two of you. Bucky is not that unlikeable.” 

“Bucky?” You tilted your head in Sam’s direction at the name.

“Damn, no one except his mother and the servants call him James.”

“So he hasn’t offered for me to call him Bucky because I have the same status as a servants to him?” The smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth reassured Sam. 

“I think he’s just teasing you.” Sam winked at you before walking away to Lady Natasha. 

The evening wore on and you flt the impact of standing on your feet. You snuck to the walls of the room behind the guests who talked absently with each other, and yo leaned on the wall for support. A contend sigh at the small relieve. 

The women in front of you in a half circle, chatting, but you din’t pay them any mind until Bucky’s name fell from their lips. The moment you heard what they were talking about your brows furrowed. It was one thing for you to talk about his appearance, but for them to do the same? Absolutely not. 

The vile insults pushed you off the wall, furious at the sound of their sneering.

“I mean, his face is pretty.”

“But I heard his arm is so deformed it doesn’t look like an arm anymore.”

“I heard it reached his chest.”

“The poor princess, having to see that on top of her for the rest of her life.”

Their words shocked you, but not out of pity, because how dare they talk about the King like this. Your future husband. And on top of that feeling sorry for you. In these moments you wished you were Julia, holding your head high like her, brushing the words off, but that’s sadly not who you are. 

“Well, if you girls weren’t so judgemental maybe the creases on your foreheads wouldn’t resemble mountains, but I guess sharing once brain cell amongst yourselves does that to you.” Your voice cut through theirs, their heads turning towards you and you relished in the way the colour drained from their faces. 

With long strides you walked odd between them towards Bucky. You hooked your arm with his, missing the surprised look on his face as you continued to glare at the women. 

Bucky didn’t know why you were so keen all of a sudden to be so close to him. The words from Sam bouncing off of him, not even reaching his ears as he was busy looking down at you. 

[ part four ]

[xmalereader]

Knight Mandalorian X Prince Male Reader

-

1/2

|| Masterlist ||

-

Summary: Reader is a prince and soon to be future king but his father thinks that he should be arranged into marriage and have a bodyguard as they head to the next kingdom to meet his future wife, but what if the read falls in love with someone else? Perhaps a Mandalorian knight?

Warnings: Language, knights, kissing, making out, mentions of arranged marriages.

-

-

Why was he here? He shouldn’t be here and he knows that, but he has a job to complete. A few days back the mandalorians had received a letter from the king of Snivo, asking for one of them to be sent to the kingdom and become the princes knight for a short period of time and that they would be paid well if they were to take the job. The king needed someone that knew how to fight back and weal a weapon, he just needed someone to protect the prince since he was being send off to another kingdom and forced into an arranged marriage and the king wants to make sure that his son arrives safety without problems.

So of course they had to Dyn Jarren, he declined the offer many times to his leader saying that he was already busy with just taking care of his own kid. Being a single father wasnt easy but the other mandalorians helped him out with the kid when he would be out on missions. Dyn tried to convince his leader to not make him go but nothing seemed to work. Now here he is, stuck in a kingdom with nothing but wealthy people that he sometimes loathed.

Dyn has never met the prince and really wishes that he doesn’t, he’s heard rumors that the prince was sometimes a spoiled brat and only cared about himself. If he was going out deal with someone like that for the next two weeks of traveling then he might as well and kill the prince himself and tell the king that they were raided by hunters and wasnt able to save the prince. But he already knows that he can’t do that, he has a code that he must go with so for now he must deal with the princes needs.

—

The mandalorian stands up straight, his head held up high. He stands next to the king as the two wait for the princes arrival. Dyn had tried too and many times to picture how the prince looked like, hearing all the rumors about him only gave him a bad image of how he would look like. The mando was lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the sound of doors slamming open, “What the hell is this?!”

He turns his head towards the doors to see a young man, he expected to see him wear a crown and maybe a long cloak that covered up half of his body and a bratty attitude. Instead he got anyone man with short like dark hair, a sword by his side, and a pretty adorable glare that was plastered all over his face. He was dressed in normal civilian clothing and wore nothing fancy. The prince currently didn’t give off any prince vibes, he looked like one of the servants that worked in the kingdom.

“Father I’ve already said, I don’t want any part of this marriage and I currently don’t need a bodyguard.” The prince hissed out and points his blade that he had in his hand at the king. The king doesn’t flinch and only narrowed his eyes at his own son, using a finger to gently move the blade away from his face. “I arranged this for you and you will marry the princess of Druklok-“

“For what exactly!? We don’t have a quarrel with them and we currently don’t have a war coming up. I am being forced to marry a women that I don’t even know and wish to never know!” He exclaims to his father/ Looking away in anger as he crossed his arms and turns around to leave the great hall. “If you don’t do This then I won’t allow you to interact with the servants again and ban you from the village.”

The mandalorian noticed the prince freeze in place once his father mentioned the servants and the village that wasnt too far from Snivo. “You wouldn’t.” The princes fingers fidget to reach down for his own weapon again but was able to hold himself back. “You must do this, its for your own good.” The king says again, earning a scoff from the prince. “You don’t know what’s good for me, all you’ve done was use me for bets and wars, using me like a pawn to get away from your problems and now you think that getting married to some women that I don’t even know is good for me? Yo don’t know me.” With that the prince turns to leave the hall, slamming the doors behind him.

The mandalorian expected the king to do something harsh to his own son for disrespecting him but all he got was silence. He glanced over to the king and noticed how he slowly sighs and sits back down on his throne. “Please keep a close eye on the boy and make sure that he leaves tommorrow morning for Druklok and that he arrives their as well, don’t let him escape because believe me he will try.” He informs. The mando nods in response, “yes your highness.” He gave one last nod before leaving the great hall to search for the prince. He would walk around the halls and stop a few servants along the way to ask if they knew where the prince could be. He was able to get a few responses and they all said the same thing, the stables.

Mando finds his way around the kingdom until he finally arrives to the stables. He makes his way through the entrance and looks around for the prince. The place had a few horses and smaller animals, moving quietly he hears murmuring as he moved deeper into the stables.

“—Can you believe that old man?! Forcing me into marriage when I could be out their doing something else that could be useful for our kingdom!” The prince was cleaning one of the horses bin, stabbing the pitchfork into some dry grass and tossing it over a fence as he continued to grumble in anger to a horse. “He’s getting old anyways, soon hell die and the kingdom will be mine and ill fix it up! Ill make sure that the servants are treated with respect and should be sene as higher rankings and not lower. I’ll send carts full of supplies and food for the villagers since they seem to need the extra food more than us.” He continued one, not noticing that the mandalorian was listening to everything he was saying.

Dyn was a bit surpised by the princes conversation, like he said he expected the prince to be a spoiled brat and showing off his riches but he was the opposite. He sought the good in people and he didn’t care about rankings. He treated everyone with respect, now he knows why his own father threaten to keep him away from the servants. He must be really close to them, maybe closer than to his own father.

“You know I can see you bucket head.”

Dyn is pulled out of his thoughts, moving out of his hiding spot he leans agaisnt the wall of the stables. “Sorry your highness, didn’t mean to ease drop.”

“Drop the highness, hate it when others need to sound so formal towards me.” The prince quickly says, eyeing the mandalorian before he gets back to work. “Can’t believe my father hired a mandalorian, heard about your culture and people.” He grunts out, tossing some more dry grass into the bin. Setting down the pitchfork he approached his horse that was standing outside its bin and eating some apples that the prince had provided for it.

Dyn blinked in surprise, watching the prince work around the stables. “Is their a name that you prefer to be called?” He blurts out. The prince eyes glance over to the mandalorian before answering. “Y/n, just call me Y/n nothing else.” He pats the Horses side as he looks at the mandalorian up and down. “What about you?” He asks in return.

“Just mando.” Dyn says.

Y/n hums, “So bucket head then?”

Dyn’s going to kill him.

—

The two were able to get to know each other for the whole day before the next morning arrived, forcing y/n out of bed and into the outside world. Mounting his horse with a glare on his face, ignoring hsi fathers words as he simply wanted to get this over with. The mandalorian was used to waking up early since he had his own kid back at home who would wake him up with his crying needs. “Have everything?” The king asks his only son, who rolls his eyes. “Yes, father.” He turns to face the king, getting a look that the mandalorian knew too well. Y/n bites his lip in anger, “Yes, your highness.” He grumbled out through clenched teeth. Before his own father could continue on with talking the prince turns to see the gates opening, taking this as his chance to quickly escape.

Mando watched Y/n ride away without a second thought, the king did warn him about this and he did see it coming but he knows that he’ll catch up to the kid. The king sighs in defeat before waving a hand at the mandalorian, allowing him to go on after him. Dyn rides after Y/n, seeing the back of the princes black horse he catchs up in time to stop the prince. “you cant run away from this.” The mando says as he used his own horse to stop the other by standing in front of him.

Y/n pouts and looks away. “Worth a shot.”

Dyn can only shake his head before moving out of the way and allowing the prince to pass through. The first couple of hours were filled with silence, the only thing heard was the sound of hooves stomping against the muddy trails and the rustling of trees. “Do you ever take it off?” The mandalorian turns to his right to see the prince titling his head to the side as he asks his question. “He speaks.”

Y/n pouts again. “You didn’t answer my question; do you ever take off that helmet?” He asks again. The mandalorian looks ahead, “I do.” The princes brows rose in surpise, “Okay...what about in front of someone else?”

“I haven’t shown anyone my face since I was a kid, the only one who’s seen my face would probably be my own kid but he’s still young so he won’t remember my face once he gets older.” Dyn explains to the other, the two riding down the path that lead them to the other kingdom. Y/n’s atttention was focused on the mandalorian as he spoke, once he brought up his own kid he bites his lip. “Didn’t know that you had kids, let alone be married.”

“I’m not married and the kid isn’t my blood either I took him in.” The mando corrects the prince, noticing from the corner of his eye the princes mouth formed a small ‘o’ in surprise. “Wow, single father who’s suddenly being forced to take care of useless prince who is also being forced into a marriage that they don’t want. You’re just wasting your time.” Said y/n, letting a sigh escape his lips.

The mandalorian was a little curious as too why the prince didn’t want to get married, he knows that their wasn’t a specific reason from the king since he was just forced to do it but he wanted to know about the princes reasons. He adjusts himself on the horse and clears his throat. “Since I told you something about myself why don’t you answer my question,” Y/n perks up and smiles. “Shoot.” He simply responds.

“Why don’t you want to get married?”

Y/n groans. “You heard my father say why.”

“No,” he shake his head. “Why you don’t want too...”

The princes hands tighten around the reigns of the horse, looking anywhere else to avoid the mandalorian stare. His throat tightens as he thinks of his own reasons, he remembers his own mother telling him that he was allowed to love whoever he wanted before she passed away.

“Y/n promise me that you wont allow anyone or anything stop you from loving whoever you want.”

“I promise, mama...”

Y/n can still remember that night, the promise that he made for his own mother before she passed away. She wanted him to be happy and now that she’s gone his own father was taking that freedom away from him. He blinks away tears and sniffs, “I don’t want to get married because I still have a lot to learn...I want to be normal and not be forced to be someone I’m not...” his voice grows soft as he spoke. “Also she’s a women.” He added quietly, his face slowly turning a dark shade of red.

The mandalorian was confused for a few seconds before it finally made since, his eyes widening. “You mean—“

“Yes.”

The prince cuts in, biting his lip. “Thats why I dont want this marriage and you probably think I’m weird now.” He adds, nudging his horse to walk a little faster this time to avoid the mandalorian judgment.

Dyn does the same, riding next to Y/n’s side to answer him. “I’m not one to judge so I don’t think your strange, your normal like everyone else. My people, the mandalorians are all different as well.” He says trying to cheer up the prince, which did work a little since he noticed a small smile creep up on the princes face. Dyn couldn’t help but smile under his helmet.

—

The two were able to find a perfect spot to set up camp for the night, dyn was making sure that the horses were tied up well on the tree while Y/n was staring a fire and making them some food.

“A prince who can cook, that’s not something you see everyday.”

Y/n laughs at the mandalorians teasign tone, “I learned from a young age, actually learned from watching the cooks back at the kingdom.” He pours some soup into a bowl for the mando, handing him the bowl before he goes back to serving himself. Dyn hums. “You’re talented, learning from watching.”

“Yeah but that depends if you like the way I cook.” He shot back with a grin on his face, leaning back on a tree trunk. Eating his own soup. The mandalorian sets the bowl aside, not quiet hungry yet. “Tell me more about your kid.” Said Y/n, setting down his bowl onto the ground and crossed legs.

Dyn chuckled softly at the prince, he was thinking back to the first time that he found the kid. He had a bounty on his head and yet somehow he had the audacity to take the mission. Hunting down the poor kid who did nothing wrong to anyone. They only wanted him because he was special and once his eyes landed on the kid he just couldn’t turn him in.

“The kid is special too me, he keeps me sane and reminds me of who I am. He can be a bit of a trouble maker.” Dyn was suddenly telling the prince his life story. “Poor kid had a bounty on his head, took him in once I found him...couldn’t complete my mission. The others helped me raise him, it was difficult at first but once I got used to the kid things started to move a little easier.” Y/n smiles at the mandalorian, he’s heard stories of his people and how they were the toughest knights and that shouldn’t be messed with. And somehow here he is, listening to mando talk passionately about his own kid.

“He must be a really adorable kid, you make it sound like he’s the most precious thing in the world.” Y/n giggled out, finishing up his own food. He pulls his legs up, placing his hands on his knees. He stared into the fire as he began to explain his own story. “I wasnt always treated as a prince, my mother came from a middle class who married my father and soon had me. She didn’t treat me differently, she loved me like a normal son.” He chuckles. “We would both sneak around the kitchens, stealing bakes goods and run back to our room to eat them in secret...” he smiles at the memory of his own mother.

“What happened to her?”

Y/n’s smile fades away. “She got sick, the doctors couldn’t do anything to help. So I stayed next to her everyday and night. My father was never around he probably never loved my mom and only used her to get an heir for the throne.” His expression changed into hatred. “My mother passed away a couple of days later, I remember approaching my father to tell him the news about my mothers death...he didn’t mourn or phase he just remained the same old man that I remember until this day.” He was gripping his knees closer to himself.

The mandalorian didn’t know if he should feel bad for the other, he suffered just as much as anyone else. Watching his own mother die in front of him and having to deal with a father that didn’t care about his own wife and son. Dyn has heard of similar stories like this from the other mandalorians, before they became a mandalorian.

Dyn’s life was different before than it is now.

“Tommorrow we change route.” He suddenly says, catching the other by surpise.

“What do you mean change route? Do you know a faster way to Druklok?” The prince questions.

The mandalorian gets himself comfortable, leaning his head back. “I accepted this job for the money but I’m also the kind of person who likes to break the rules, so tomorrow morning we change routes that’ll take you far away from Druklok and Snivo.”

[innaminitus]

Desires #13

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary:  Vanaheim needs allies and since you are the eldest daughter of its king, you are a victim of arranged marriage with one of Odin’s sons - Loki.

Chapter warnings: the last chapter, smut and I can’t say anything more because I don’t want to spoil

Chapter word count: 2775

A/N: I am too emotional now, I will leave the proper note at the end. 

When you opened your eyes the bed was empty, but you could hear Marigold's silent giggling and Loki shushing her.

“Mommy's asleep, we have to be quiet.”

You turned on the bed and looked at them. Loki was dressing her up in a green dress, but got lost in all of the ribbons it had.

“Come here,” you said and sat up.

“Did we wake you?” Marigold asked and came over to you, tripping over the loose ribbons.

“No, snowflake.” You tied the black ribbons on her arms and back. “Will you tell me why is she dressed in our colours and this very expensive dress for another day on a spaceship?” You looked at Loki when Marigold run to the mirror to see how she looks. He watched you for a second with parted lips. “What?”

He smiled softly.

“You've never said these are our colours before.”

That was true... These were always his colours, but you've been wearing them for such a long time now.

“Is that bad? You don’t want me to say it?”

“I love it when you say it.” He smiled and reached a hand to Mari. She obediently came to him and he kneeled behind her. He summoned a brush and began to slowly stroke her hair.

You never realized how good he was as a father. Your own would never force himself to brush your hair, let alone kneel before you or be a tickling monster. You knew Odin was no better, at least when it came to Loki. And yet here he was, cherishing his little girl, loving her with his whole heart.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

He looked at you from the braid he was doing.

“Ah, yes. Thor says we are going to land on Midgard soon. I thought it would be good if we looked decent.”

You rolled your eyes.

"Just don't make her wear a crown with horns, please. The two of us is more than enough.”

"But I want horns!” Marigold stumped. “Mom! Please!”

Loki laughed.

“You will get a tiara, young lady, and it will have no horns,” you said with raised eyebrows. “And mind your temper.”

She crossed her arms and stumped again but didn't say anything else. Loki pinned the braids on her head and got up.

“Why don't you go to the bridge and look for Earth with your uncle, Marigold? Show him your pretty dress.”

“Maybe he'll borrow me his eyepatch!” She clapped her little hands and run outside.

You giggled and shook your head. Loki came closer to you and tugged a lost string of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright?” He asked. His own hair was brushed but not styled and it was the most perfect way he looked. Unbothered, relaxed, with delicate black curls around his face.

You stood on your toes and kissed him gently.

“It’s been worse.” You smiled in his lips. “Why don’t we get dressed and welcome Earth in our horny crowns?”

“Why don’t we undress?” He smirked and wrapped his arms around you.

You stretched your arms on his shoulders and let him kiss you.

“I don’t think that’s wise…” You murmured, but couldn’t get your lips off him. You kissed his cheek, jawline and neck, his hands squeezed your hips and pulled you even closer, so your chest was pressed against his.

“I think that’s very wise.”

His hands slipped down your body, rolled up your nightgown and caressed the delicate skin of your thighs before travelling further and squeezing your ass. With a silent squirm you captured his lips in a needy kiss, his tongue quickly found its way into your mouth. He gently pushed you and you had to take a few steps back until your back met the wall. Loki pressed his whole body onto yours, his hands flew to your face and he lifted it up, gaining an access to your neck. His teeth tugged the skin just below the jawline, his lips claimed you his in every way possible.

You quickly undid his belt and slid the leather trousers down his legs, freeing his already hard member. Your fingers wrapped around him and stroked softly, receiving a groan and a bite on your neck. He held your thighs tightly.

“Jump,” he gasped in your ear before biting it slightly. You did as he said and wrapped your legs around his waist, but he stopped you before you slid down his length. “Y/N… Maybe… I won’t use the contraception spell?”

“I can do it if you want.” You kissed him passionately and tried to move, but he once again stopped you.

“No… What I meant was… not to use it at all,” he said, his thumbs caressed your skin.

“But I would get pregnant.” You cocked your head to the side.

He parted his lips, and looked you in the eyes.

“Exactly.”

You had to blink a few times, suddenly you forgot that breathing was a necessary.

“You want another baby?” You stuttered.

He looked as if saying it out loud made him realize it even harder.

“Yes.”

“But… we already have one.” You bit your lower lip. The position you were in was uncomfortable enough on its own, you didn’t need to feel uncomfortable also psychically.

“I… You’re right.” He shook his head. “It was just a silly thought.”

You leaned and kissed him unsurely.

“Don’t say that…” You rubbed your nose onto his. “I think I might… consider that,” you said, but shook your head almost immediately when you realized something. “No… I want that. But not now. Not when we are in these uncertain times.” You kissed his forehead. “I want to have another baby with you, but when we create new Asgard. I want it to have a normal, calm life.”

He kissed you and lowered you, so his length finally slid inside of you. You gasped in his lips and dug your fingers in his shoulders.

“I love you,” he said, thrusting hard. “And I will love every child you give me. No matter when.”

You wrapped your arms around him and let yourself selfishly enjoy every move he made. He pumped you fiercely, just the way you always loved it, the angle let him reach the sweet spot inside of you, pure bliss swallowed you whole and it didn’t take you both long to reach your tops. He placed his head in the crook of your neck and sucked on the delicate skin making you moan and dive your fingers into his hair. You clenched your muscles around him when he gave you last few thrusts, ecstasy made you shiver and your legs tremble, you couldn’t held the moan back anymore and it escaped your lips only to be swallowed by his. He spilled himself inside of you with a groan and bit your lower lip. He slowly put you back on the ground, but you didn’t trust your legs, so you had to lean on him not to fall. His cum slowly flew down your thighs.

“Now we can get dressed.”

*

You slowly walked to the bridge, arm in arm, both in those ridiculous crowns, but this time you didn’t care. It was your husband, your colours and your crown. Your family.

“How are we doing?” You asked Thor when you reached your destiny.

“It shouldn’t take long now. Soon we will be ready for a jump.”

“We will be on Earth, mommy!” Marigold turned to you in a captain’s chair.

“I know, snowflake! Isn’t this fantastic?” You laughed when you saw her lightened face.

“Don’t you two look fancy?” Thor pointed a finger at you and smiled cheekily. “Everything fine now?” You just nodded, begging him in your head to stop talking. “See, Y/N? I told you there is no need for a divorce.”

Loki stiffened next to you.

“You told him?” He hissed.

“He’s my friend, of course I did.” You bent your fingers.

“The whole ship knew, to be honest, you both are loud-“

“What’s that?” Loki furrowed and came closer to the pane. “Is that another ship?”

“This is the Asgardian refugee vessel Statesman.” You heard someone saying to the microphone. You quickly walked to Mari and lifted her up from the chair. “Our crew is made up of Asgardian families, we have very few soldiers here. This is not a warcraft. I repeat, this is not a warcraft!”

Your heartbeat was crazy. You were so close to Earth. So close to your perfect life. Loki took your hand and held it tightly.

Seconds passed, the ship before you was coming closer.

It wasn’t as big as it looked just a moment before.

“Guardians of the Galaxy at your service, need any help?” The voice came through the speaker, it belonged to a man.

Everyone on the ship seemed to breathe with relief. This wasn’t a warship either.

The man with the mic looked at Thor who nodded at him.

“No need.”

“Understood.” The speaker cracked and turned off.

When they passed you, you could barely see the crew inside.

“Is that a rabbit?” Thor furrowed, but eventually shook his head.

“We are ready for the jump, sir.” The second captain turned to Thor.

“Earth it is.”

*

“So who are these… Avengers?” You asked when the entrance of the ship lowered itself on the ground.

Midgard was similar to Asgard and Vanaheim. You were glad. The shock would be much worse if it turned out they didn’t have trees there.

“They are friends of mine!” Thor said and was the first to walk down, and Banner followed him immediately.  

“But they are not your friends?” You turned to Loki who was holding Marigold. You asked her to turn to her Aesir form before.

“Indeed,” he sighed. “I just hope they would understand our situation.”

You landed near the facility Thor called Avengers’ compound. A few people were standing there to greet you. Or throw out.

You watched Thor and Banner as they spread their arms and hugged these people. They seemed to be happy to see each other and only a little concerned with the ship full of people. Your brother turned to you and waved at you both.

“I think this means we have to go there…” Loki sighed again and moved, but you held his hand and stopped him.

“Wait… What if they lock you again?” You stuttered, somehow suddenly really nervous.

He smiled softly at you.

“If they do I hope you will get me out.” He kissed your cheek. “Come, wife.”

You did as he said, raised your head like the princess you were and walked with your husband arm to arm.

“You obviously know Loki already,” Thor laughed when you stood before the people who were greeting you. Four man and two woman. “This is his wife, Y/N, and their child, Marigold.”

They all seemed so shocked. Their eyes were opened wide and their mouths were close to doing so as well. Why?

“Loki. Has a wife. And a kid.” A short man in odd glasses pointed finger at you, but it was the blonde woman who was first to act kind towards you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, her voice was slightly harsh, but pleasant.

“Likewise.” You eyed them all, suddenly not being able to say anything more.

“Any plans to conquer the Earth again?” The short man spoke again.

Loki smirked.

“Perhaps.”

“Daddy!” Marigold hissed at him and you tried not to giggle, but the woman who spoke before was not that subtle and laughed, just as Thor.

“Alright, none.” Loki rolled his eyes. “The little one is the boss now.” He wrinkled his nose at her and she giggled.

The people around you were once again in shock, but were more decent this time and shook it off.

“Please, come in,” said a blonde man and showed you the door. “Let’s talk about what we can do for your people.”

*

It was late evening and almost everyone went to sleep already, but not you. You just sat at the floor in the common room, your back resting against the couch and you watched the flames sparkle in the chimney. Marigold was sleeping in your arms, dressed in her pyjamas, back in her Jotun form. You couldn’t let her go somehow. You wanted to spend the whole night just watching her sleep.

You didn’t know where Loki was, he went somewhere with Thor shortly after you finished the talks about new Asgard which took you hours and hours. Tony Stark, the short man, said he would find a land big enough for you to create new Asgard there and invited your family to stay in the compound for as long as you needed. Of course you shouldn’t leave your people on the ship alone, but you felt better when you knew that Marigold would be finally comfortable. You wanted to place her in a bed, but… not yet.

“Do you need anything?” You heard a voice and tuned to the door. It was the blonde man, Steve Rogers. Captain America.

“No, thank you.” You shook your head.

He came closer.

“Do you mind if I sit?” He asked and you just shook your head again. He sat on the couch, close to where you were sitting on the floor. “You know, I fought with Loki when he was on Earth years ago.”

You raised your brows.

“I hope you’re going somewhere with it.”

He laughed silently.

“I am, don’t worry.” He looked at Marigold. “What I meant to say is that I would never think that this man could have a family like this. I just hope he’s changed and that he’s not hurting you both.”

He was worried? About you and Marigold, who he never met before?

“Why do you care?”

He shrugged.

“I think that’s just who I am. The guy who cares and always wants to help.”

You eyed him. He could be right. You didn’t feel anything bad from him, just pure will to be kind.

“It was hard at the beginning,” you said, not exactly knowing why you were so eager to talk about it. “It was an arranged marriage, you know. For the crimes he did on Earth. He said I was his punishment.” You shook your head at the memory of that. “We didn’t love each other. I still didn’t love him long after he confessed his love to me. Actually I don’t think I loved him when I got pregnant… Maybe when I gave birth. I realized it for sure when he pretended to be dead. I thought I lost him and it ripped me apart.”  

“It was a process,” he stated and nodded slowly.

“Exactly. It was a hard work for both of us, but eventually we came to this point. We are a real family. He changed so much for us… I never thought it was possible.” You looked down at your little daughter, sleeping in your arms. “He loves us both very much. And he is the best father in the universe.” You gently kissed her blue forehead. “So no. He is not hurting us. Not anymore. He’s different. I think when you experience so much love in your life, even the worst memory no longer hurts. He just needed someone to teach him unconditional love. I never wanted him to be king, to be powerful or rich. I just wanted us to be a family, I wanted him and no one else. That was all he ever needed.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” Steve said. “Love melts even the toughest hearts.”

“That’s true.” You heard your husband’s voice and turned to him with a soft smile.

He walked to the room and squatted next to you.

“Can we go to sleep now, my loves?” He asked and gently took Marigold from you.

You nodded and got up.

“Goodnight, Captain,” you said.

“Goodnight.”

Loki guided you to your bedroom and placed Marigold on a bed placed there just for her, then covered her with the sheets. You sat heavily on your bed and watched your husband. He saw you looking at him and slowly kneeled before you.

“Everything is fine now.”

Not the usual “how are you?” or “are you okay?”. Everything is fine now.

You smiled at him and took his face in your hands.

“We are safe. We are together,” you said with tears in your eyes. You didn’t remember when you last felt safe. Even the word cut on your thigh couldn’t change that feeling now.

“And it shall always stay this way.”

___

A/N: You’ve been Lokid a little with what I previously said about IW, I hope you won’t kill me. I want to thank you for bearing with me through this series that I loved writing and am actually really sad is over. Thank you for all the feedback and love messages, you guys are really the best, I love you all 3000. 

Would you be interested with me writing another series? I got a request for Marvel Hogwarts AU Loki x reader and I’d love if you’d let me know if you’re interested in that. 

I hate goodbyes. 

tag list: @3nmxnxt3r @arianna-17-11 @blue-sunset-oreo-lover@connor-of-detroit@darkprincessloki92@fuckythebuckybarnes@frommywindow10@ginnyweasleysscrunchie@i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night@jessiejunebug @just-another-loki-fangirl @kneel-before-queen-loki@lokislilslut @malanix @marvel-ous-fics@marvelrose @min-yoongi-my-love@myownviperroom@princerowanwhitethorngalathynius@renownedmeme@superdrysuperfry@terrainhead@vespirin @youare-mysonshine @stxcloudy @1800-fight-me@justasmisunderstoodasloki@inlovewithmrstark @itsmadness-97@i-think-i-am-adorable @curiousershipper @orchidjjg @captainstartights @bluestaratsunrise@been-falling-for-thirty-minutes @loki-poki-foki@freddies-fried-chicken@bluestaratsunrise@iamverity

[wonderswritings]

Tony Stark Drabble

@his-paradox Hey there! I wanted to put in a drabble request...I was thinking Tony Stark in an arranged marriage with prompts 41 and 8. It's totally fine if you can't but I thought I'd throw it out there. Love all your writing btw ❤❤❤ 41“Okay, judging by the look on your face, you either want to kill me or have sex with me.” 8 “There are at least seventeen different ways this could have gone better. Literally. Like I’m counting them right now, you moron.

Sumarray: Genius. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist. Arranged Marriage. How could your parents expect you to marry that? Pairings: Tony Stark x Reader Warnings: Arranged Marriage Writer: Alice

“No! You can’t just make me marry him! I’m a grown adult! This isn’t the freaking seventeen hundreds where you get to just marry your daughter off!” My father turned to face me, his face red with anger as he took a few steps forward.

“You will marry this boy! It has been set since you were both children! We will not go back on our promise!” “Exactly it is your promise, not mine! How can you just sell away my future? This won’t be a marriage of love, it won’t even be a real marriage!” “You’ll learn to love him! If not then that is your problem! But you will marry him or so help me-” I turned on my heel, stomping out of the room and down the hall to my room. My bag was already packed for me, laying on top of my bed. I threw it off, laying on my bed I was to meet my “betrothed” tomorrow, my parents coming in the next day where we’ll have the wedding.

*Time Skip cause I’m lazy* The car ride wasn’t as long as I thought it’d be, and it was like in a blink of an eye we were pulling into a garage. Someone named “Happy” met us, carrying my bag for me as I followed him. He was quiet, the only thing he said was to follow me. The elevator was taking us to the penthouse and I so badly wanted to ask why we were going there but I didn’t want to disturb the weird silence we had going on. The elevator doors opened, and Happy turned to face me. “He’s in there, I’ll take your things to your room.” “Uh, thank you, I guess?” He nodded, a tight smile on his face as I left. I turned, looking around the room. It was spacious, little nick nacks here and there, some expensive things in there when I heard footsteps. I looked up, my mouth falling open when I saw who it was. “Anthony Edward Stark! What the ever living hell?!” He held his hands up in front of him, taking a few steps towards me.

“Okay, judging by the look on your face, you either want to kill me or have sex with me.” “Tony!” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s been awhile hasn’t it?”

“It’s been awhile? Been awhile? Really?! That, that is not just something you say after all of this! Yo-Did you know? Did you know that my parents are forcing me to marry someone?” He chuckled, moving closer until he was standing right in front of me.

“I know. You’re marrying me.” “What?” “You’re marrying me. Remember when we were seven, and we both promised to marry each other when we got older?” “We were kids then Tony! Literally kids!”

He shrugged, grinning.

“I know, but I was serious. I know you were too.”

I sighed, shaking my head.

“Tones, there are at least seventeen different ways this could have gone better. Literally. Like I’m counting them right now, you moron.” He grinned, giving me a quick hug before he grabbed my hand and pulled me further into the room.

“See? This is why I’ve always liked you.” “You do remember senior year right? We tried this, this didn’t work.” “We can try. I’ve loved you for some time and I knew your parents would marry you off, so I put in the bigger deal.” “You’re crazy.” “Crazy in love.” I laughed, shaking my head.

“You took a chance, you know that?” “I know but was I wrong?” “Wrong about what?” He looked over at me, smirking his famous smirk.

“I love you-” “And?” He rolled his eyes, huffing.

“If you’d let me finish.” I grinned up at him, and he huffed, causing me to laugh.

“And what Tones?” “You love me.”

I pretended to think it over before I grinned, nodding.

“I do, I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids.” “Say it again.” I grinned, moving closer to him, running my hands up his arms to his chest, and then around his neck. I had to stand on my tippy toes as Tony placed his hands on my hips.

“I love you.” He leaned down, kissing me before he leaned back, his forehead on mine.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

Marvel Tags:

@sfreeborn  @patzammit  @capsofwinchesters  @smoothdogsgirl  @fir3flies-light-up-my-sky  @andiyholly  @emoryhemsworth  @embersofstardust  @bvbamygirl-blog  @toastmaster94  @5aftermidnight  @crystlblu  @sergeantwhitewolf  @tienna-laufeyson16  @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @hista-girl  @supernaturaldean67  @textbookbabe  @iwanttomeetnewpeople  @kurlyafro  @killsandchills  @andiyholly  @lucywinchester67  @wowza-2  @badsongwinchester  @agent-valkyrie-romanoff  @jedi-of-221bbakerst  @katykyll  @exodarkwolf16  @liberty01  @jdawgzzz  @his-paradox  @elwenia  @carrietoddrick  @quotemeow  @karanliginkizilovato @wipplog @thisismysecrethappyplace  @marvelgorls @lovemesomepietro   @the-sun-the-moon-the-truth24 @idkavengersgirl @peterfromtheavengers  @aloneanddesperate @broke-ass-potterhead  @sydthekid1518 @snail-gardens  @lovemesomepietro  @team-marvel13  @coffeebooksandfandom  @lovecountrymusic @patzammit