#the woman makes me sick whenever I write her because she’s so pitiful in her repulsiveness.

[sincerely-sofie]

Ruby anon again! I’m glad that I haven’t been interrupting your creative process or intervening at all. I can’t wait to see what you do with Ruby and her siblings!

The siblings, btw, were a piece of work for me to write and develop until I decided to peace out on really doing anything with them. The only two things I remember about them really are:

• They’re bounty hunters and their parents did the same thing to them that they’re doing with Ruby. They’re repeating behavior taught to them and they legitimately think they’re helping Ruby. I scrapped that idea quickly because I felt like that could push out the problematic “the abused become abusers” message and that it could possibly make the siblings sympathetic, and I did not want to make them sympathetic in even the slightest way. Anything I had involving the backstory of Ruby’s siblings and/or what happened to their parents was just tossed out after that.

• I thought about the siblings having opposite personalities and looks: one is more loud and aggressive and the other is more quiet and passive aggressive. One is shiny while the other is not. One is the physical abuser while the other is the emotional abuser. Despite their personalities contrasting, they get along well with each other. I wanted it to symbolize that abuse can look different, but it’s still abuse and can often come with other forms of it. I was still on the fence about that idea because I wasn’t sure if I liked it.

I hope you can write the siblings better than I ever could. I can’t wait to see more of your work! It’s amazing! I hope you have a good night. ^^

OHHHHH MY WORD I CAN’T BEGIN TO TELL YOU HOW AMAZING THESE NOTES ARE AND HOW EXCITED I AM TO INCORPORATE THEM

I love the idea of the siblings embodying different forms of abuse and the significance of how their differences ultimately play off each other in a way that they get along swimmingly. That’s a brilliantly layered piece of storytelling, you’re a genius! And thank you for the compliment, you’re super sweet :>

Real quick, an important thing to note about the possible problematic message that “the abused become abusers”— it’s a heartbreaking fact that many cases of abuse are generational in origin. The documented fact that domestic abusers are frequently victims of corporal punishment is one of the most devastating examples of this. To write a couple of characters who reflect this fact doesn’t automatically push out the idea that the abused become abusers— heck, it could be written as an important insight into the devastating effects of abuse and how it impacts its victims, and how breaking the chain of abuse is even more significant than its already seen.

Just because you write a reason for a character to be a horrible person doesn’t mean they’re automatically sympathetic, or even that they’re sympathetic in a bad way. Villains people can relate to are very powerful from a writing perspective because they make the reader stop, stare into the abyss, and see it staring back at them. A sympathetic or “understandable” villain who is still clearly villainous is terrifying compared to one that’s cartoonish pure evil. I can’t think of anyone who wants to blow up the universe, but I can think of a good few people who are xenophobic to the point of dehumanizing even themselves through their hatred. An origin story isn’t always an excuse. Sometimes it’s nothing more than an explanation— a cautionary tale that says “this could be you, so watch yourself.”

The fact that this is a possible backstory for Ruby and her older siblings is very relevant to Twig’s character in particular. I haven’t talked about Twig’s aunt Rue or mother Rowan’s backstories very much, but Rue was very similar to Twig while growing up— and Twig resembles Rue as a child more than she does her own mother. In a piece I haven’t finished yet, there’s a flashback that reveals the lighter that featured so heavily in the abuse Twig suffered is printed with her grandfather’s initials. Ruby and Twig could talk for hours, I think, about the torrential emotions that come from knowing your tormentor was a victim as well.

[nicolesainz]

You belong with me (MM7)

Mason Mount x f!reader

Author’s note: I am in the middle of a Charles Leclerc fic and studying for exams and yet at 11 at night all I am willing to do is write a fic about Mase. So here you go! It’s a very simple plot from Mason’s POV.

Summary: You indeed belong with him, you just haven’t realized it yet. Mason has been trying everything and when the perfect opportunity arises, he is willing to take it up and make you his.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, minor violence, soft in the end!

She is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. There is no one else in this world that I would want to make and call ‘mine’. If I had a lamp with a genie inside, my only wish would be to let me love her unconditionally.

It’s a pity she won’t let me love her. She’s in search for the love of a man that doesn’t even want her. Even worse, can’t provide her the love I can and am willing to give. I feel sick to my stomach knowing her heart has been engraved with his name instead of mine.

Y/N and I have been best friends before we could even talk. As babies our eyes and childish giggles would do the trick. As we were growing up, our relationship became stronger and we were attacked to the hip. She’d beg her mother to stay over at my house and I would beg my mom to stay over at her house.

We would never sleep. We would talk endless hours about what we want to do in life. What we want to succeed in. What our lives would be in 20 years time.

“I will be playing for Chelsea one day and I will win the Champions League. I promise you.” I said as a young boy, hopping on my bed, with a dream and passion to motivate me.

“You will be a superstar one day, Masey. And I will always be by your side to cheer for you.” Y/n replied, looking up to me, with a massive smile plastered on her face and her bubbly eyes admiring me.

Y/n did keep her word. She’s been present to all of my games. Whether those were in London, in Holland or other parts of the world, she has been truly my biggest fan. At winning games and losing games, she’s stood by me like no one else has or will ever do so.

Every goal I scored was dedicated to her. My celebrations would vary but a small heart would always be included. If I ever forgot the heart celebration, I would go up to the camera and mouth an ‘I love you’ to the screen so she would see it.

A lot of people in high school believed that we were dating. I would’ve loved to confirm those rumors, although y/n’a undying love for the nerd, tall boy in our class would ruin everything I wished for. He was expressionless and would simply smile like an idiot to her whenever they had a small conversation.

The moment we stopped sitting next to each other my blood would boil every time I caught him looking at her. I would send her small paper notes to keep her distracted from his presence. At times, I wasn’t able to go to class because of games or practice so for the entirely of the time, she would occupy my thoughts and I would ask her other friends if anything happened.

Till this very day, the only person that truly knows how deeply in love I am with y/n, is Declan. And I think he’s kind of sick hearing me blabber about how I would gift her the world, the planets and the night sky full of stars just to be with her.

“I know you love her mate but you’re clearly not what she wants.” One day Declan hit me with the realization that I may not be the boy she loves. And it was partially true. I wasn’t. Not until the perfect chance popped up.

It was Valentine’s Day and coincidentally Y/n birthday as well. Everyone in our class knew so her nickname in high school was Mrs. Cupid. They said that she could have whoever she desired. And yet this never happened. The idiot she loved was a scared man who couldn’t handle the portions of love she was showering him with.

It was our class reunion after almost 10 years. Me and y/n knew about the whereabouts of some old classmates so seeing them again would be like a casual hang out. Other hand lost touch so we would be seeing them again after years. Y/n would also be faced with the asshole she had been pinning about.

“How do I look Mase?” She appeared in front of me with a golden sparkly top and a black skirt that was perfectly showing off her figure. Her hair was let down in soft summery curls with lips more red than Manchester’s color. My heart started thumping so fast, I could run a marathon and come back without a hint of sweat. She’s so majestic.

“You’re beautiful darling.” Was all I said with a soft smile on my lips, even though I hid all my true thoughts for her appearance.

“Oh why thank you Mr. Mount. You are very handsome yourself.” I blush at her sweet words. She has an effect on me which I do not try to hide. Unfortunately I know that the reason why she is so insanely beautifully dressed is because he will be there. She would love to have another try. Maybe a final one.

"Shall we get going? You will start getting annoyed with your heels very soon so better be sat than sorry." I point out trying to clear my head from all the intrusive thoughts.

"Oh yes, plus you've got a game tomorrow. We have to come back early." She grabs her purse and we make our way out of her house. I drove all the way to London with my clothes for the party and for the game tomorrow after training so I could be with her from the moment we enter the club.

"You can stay in the party if you like, I will come and pick you up whenever you want me to." I suggest her by letting her get closer to what she desires but instead letting my desire fly away.

"No influence in the world has a priority against you. We will come back home when you call so. I won't risk your sleeping schedule for my silliness." Y/n takes my free hand into hers and caresses it softly. She keeps making it very difficult for me not to maneuver back the car, lock her in her room and shower her with kisses and tell her how much I love her.

"For now let's go have some fun. It will be nice seeing all the faces of our old classmates."

Most of them still live in London. It was me and three other people who lives far away in different cities. Once we arrived at the bar that we had booked, y/n held my arm nervously and I kissed her forehead, wanting to calm her down. She had no reason to worry. Everyone who knew her loved her. It was only him who couldn't love her like she wished.

When I opened the door and our old classmates noticed us, they all ran towards y/n, giving her hugs and compliments about how beautiful she looked. Some of the boys came up to me and greeted me with a few shakes and congratulations for the transfer to Manchester.

As we reached the barline, he was there talking to some of his old friends and y/n eyes immediately widened from worrying. He looked the same to me, I hadn't noticed anything different. I decided to go up to him and chat a bit, given that for y/n to ease there must be a familiar face in presence.

"Look at that, Mason Mount. How are you dude?"

He suddenly got all arrogant or what? He was a quiet, forgettable and tall boy in high school, what changed all of a sudden?

"Good, good. Settling the in the new life in Manchester. How about you?" I try not to sound as pissed as I may look. I eye him up and down once more trying to understand what difference there is.

"Travelling the world every other weekend, I am exhausted. You get the feeling? Home and away games?" Oh he gained soo much confidence over the years that he got annoying as well.

"Definitely, I agree. So what do you do that requires so much traveling?" Last time I remember he wanted to become a driver but god knows if that could get him anywhere at the age he was.

"I work for Mercedes, as their development driver for Formula 1." I almost chocked on my drink. So he did make it as a driver, almost.

"That's amazing. Good for you mate." That's what gave him all the confidence he has I suppose.

"So what about you and y/n, finally got together? I saw her holding your arm, I assumed you're dating." A smirk formed above his eyes, which made my eyes twitch a tad.

"She's my best friend. So no, we are not dating." I so would have loved to say otherwise even if that meant I had to lie, but I couldn't. It would be wrong for y/n.

"Damn, still haven't given up Mount? I admire your determination. If she was as hot as she is now back in the day, I would have made my move." If he utters another word he will die on the hill and I will be arrested but for the sake of y/n I wouldn't care.

"She's always been extremely beautiful. You were just trying to figure out whether you have a dick or not so your focus was on something else." I got a lot of pats on the back and a lot of 'fuck dude' echos in the background.

"If you are so desperate to try and get into her pants why haven't you flashed at her the trophies and the money? Easier path than trying to sway her with your undying love confessions." I couldn't control myself when he said those disgusting things so my only response was to punch him in the face and throw my drink on him as well.

"You don't deserve an ounce of the love she has for you. You don't deserve the charming smiles you would have woken up next to. You don't deserve anything good, fucking piece of shit." He got up immediately and punched me in the gut with all his strength. I stopped breathing with how my lungs were pressed and all his friends were trying to block him from punching me again.

"Who told you I wanted her to like me in the first place? There's a reason why I never asked her out. You can have all her pathetic emotions for yourself. She still begs for someone she liked since high school. You're a goddamn footballer, why are you so obsessed with her?"

When I finally got up on my feet again and gained my senses, I grabbed his collar before anyone could hold me back from going up to him and gave him a deadly look, as if this would be the last time he was breathing and not coughing blood.

"I loved and will continue to love her no matter what. I do not want anyone else and I am willing to compromise for the sake of her happiness. I was tired of watching her chase your pathetic ass when I could have given her all the love she desires. You can have anyone you like but your time with her is over." As I realised that I said that out loud in public, I turned around to see a fully crying y/n, trying to control her sobs and clear her vision.

Her lower lip was quivering and her eyes were on my hands as I was still holding his shirt very violently. I looked deep into her eyes, although she refused to give me even a single glimpse. I had fucked it up majorly.

"Let him go Mason." Her voice has no emotion in it. More blunt than ever. There was no 'Masey' or 'Mase'. It was stern cold. I did as I was told and turned back to face her full blown red cheeks and lips with smeared lipstick. What had I done?

"I am so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have had, but I..." I couldn't finish my sentence as she walked away from the scene and I immediately run after her. No way in hell I was going to stay back.

"I didn't mean to hit him. He was literally asking for it. If you could hear what he said about you, it was horrible. I couldn't just stand there and let him talk so disrespectfully about you." I never let anyone talk in a mean manner about my girl. Even Conor who once called her 'hot' I almost kicked his leg on purpose in practice.

"Did you mean what you said at the bar? Or was this just a show?" I couldn't believe my ears when she said that she believed that this was just a show. Was that what she thought of me?

"Ask anyone I know on this planet. Ask them about you. Ask them what I have said about you. Ask them how much I love you. Ask them how I would take a bullet for you, how I would put my career on the line if it meant to prioritise you. You have no idea how much I cried the night before I left for Manchester. I called Lewis at 3 am in the morning crying, asking him to help me cancel my contract so I could stay in London. Even if that meant trying to force my way back into Chelsea or another club. Do you really think I would punch a guy for any other girl besides you? Because yes y/n, I love you. I truly am madly in love with you. I love you so much it started to pain me. It was heartbreaking seeing you try to be loved by someone who wasn't deserving of your love when I was there, waiting to give you all the love of the world. If you still think this is all a show, then I am deeply sorry. I just want the best for you."

There was so much more to confess and to explain, although it would take me an eternity to prove to her how much she meant to me. Since day one I knew that if someone would be my endgame, it had to be her.

"You are my best friend, you will always be. We share everything with each other. Why did you never say anything about this? What stopped you from telling me how you were feeling? " She came closer to me and cupped my cheeks softly, caressing my rough skin.

"If I lost you because of my feelings, I would have never forgiven myself. God knows how many nights we spend sleeping in each other's embrace and I whispered in your ear how much I was in love with you. I just hoped one day you listened and wake up realising we should be together. But forcing you to love me, wouldn't be right. That is why I never told anything." This could either break my heart or bring me back to life, there's no way back now.

"Mason, I was in love with you before I ever was with him. He was just my reason to bury all the love I had for you. I was scared of admitting anything because your career kept growing and growing and the thought of being in love with you whilst you were playing in another country with a girlfriend I probably wouldn't even like, would keep me up late at night crying."

Her words broke my heart into a million pieces. My y/n was in love with me as well? The girl of my dreams could have been mine for so long and we wouldn't have had to go through this mess? Y/n loved me, oh my god.

"If you allow me, I will love you for the rest of our lives. Whoever you want to end up with, just tell me, will you allow me to give you all the unconditional love I have for you? All that matters to me is that you are happy. As long as you smile, I know I can smile as well." I lowered my head and our foreheads touched, feeling her breath hit on my lips, which were about to capture hers but I held back for a moment.

"I don't want to be loved by anyone else but you, Mason Tony Mount. If I want to be with someone, I want that person to be you. I want to share my life and love I have with you. We could have been happy now if we both weren't so scared to admit our feelings." I can feel her tears running down my hands as I was trying to bring her face closer to mine.

"Better late than never, am I right?" I took the chance and captured her lips in a full of years of emotions kiss, softer than the touch of clouds but with more love than cupid's arrows. My heart has finally found the pace it will beat when I am with her. It will beat faster than a thousand hearts combined and will be full of happiness.

[lokisprettygirl]

Hi ok um I am honestly really insecure and such myself and Loki is my comfort character too so I am super glad I found a page that feels similar. I also really love your writing! I am so excited to continue reading your stuff! On to the request…

I was wondering if you could do a Loki x Reader where the reader is really like insecure about if she is enough for Loki. Loki knows that she gets insecure sometimes and though he keeps reassuring her she still doesn’t feel like she’s enough so Loki decides to show her physically in their bedroom. Possible praise kink please? If it’s not too much to ask. Thanks! ☺️

Awhhh I relate with this :( Loki would never let his partner feel awful about them 💚🤧

Warning : 18+ , Smut, unprotected sex, praise kink, dirty talk, Self pity, insecurities.

On one of your bad days, the days when you didn't feel enough, the days when you felt unworthy of him, the days when your own inner thoughts would hit self esteem you'd look at him and wonder why he'd even be with you. Those thoughts started infiltrating your relationship with him right from the beginning of your relationship. .

You would watch a model flirt with him at one of the avengers parties and get insecure, you'd start comparing yourself to her. How tall she is, how smooth her skin is, how pretty her hair is. You felt awful being so cruel to yourself and also the woman you compared yourself to. But you could never stop, you'd read some comments about yourself from his admirers and it would instantly push you right into that hole of self pity.

The worst part was he never got tired of reassuring you, he'd always assure you but sometimes it made you wonder if he was starting to get sick of it. Sick of telling you that he was yours, that he belonged to you but he never complained or at least pretended to not do so. You couldn't help but wait for the impending doom, you feared that one day he'd wake up and realize that he could do so much better. And the thought scared you because if he leaves you, like people did before, it would just prove your point that you are not Enough for him or anybody else.

Loki knew you had trouble accepting the fact that he wanted you, that he was absolutely besotted by you, that he craved you and needed you in his life. His life took a turn for the good when he met you, your love pulled him out of the solidarity that he so abhorred living in. He didn't think anyone would want to be with him for real, he didn't think anyone would want him more than just a night of warm sex and random hookups as midgardians calls it. But then he met you and it all changed.

He would always know whenever you'd start to feel as if you were not enough for him, feel as if you were not the best thing that has happened to him. You often withdrew yourself from him whenever your mind wasn't being so kind to you, he'd watch you walk around with sad little look on your face and it always did hurt him to see it. He loved watching you laughing, hearing your giggles, he lived for you little quirks that you often talked bad about. He didn't have any problem in reassuring you, he'd do it all his life if he had to but when you felt this way you'd try to act as if everything was fine but he could always tell and he'd always make you open up to him.

"Sweet love are you ready?" you heard his voice and looked at him. What were you thinking when getting this bodycon dress for Stark's birthday? You scrutinized every inch of yourself as you gazed at your reflection in the mirror. All of a sudden you could find flaws you didn't think existed before, he was a god, a prince, an avenger, you'd never be enough for him.

Your eyes teared and he got behind you quickly, he wrapped his arms around you, his chin went down on your right shoulder. He pecked your cheeks softly and as soon as your tears touched your cheeks he wiped them away.

"Now now, are you going to be my darling girl and talk to me about it?" He whispered softly, his thumb rubbed against the side of your waist in a caressing manner.

"It's nothing..I just don't feel well, you should go alone" he pressed his palm on your forehead to check your temperature and it felt normal.

"Is it your tummy, are you bleeding my love?" He asked just to be sure, your date was close, and he didn't want to assume even though deep down he knew you were feeling insecure but he wanted you to open up to him.

"No I ..I just" a soft sob escaped your lips so you turned around and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around your waist quickly.

"Shhh it's okay, let it out princess it's okay, I am here, I am always here my love" he whispered sweet words in your ears, just hoping that you'd hear him.

"I'm sorry I always get like this ..I'm so sorry" his eyes teared up at how broken your voice sounded in his ears, it hurt him to the core to hear his princess apologizing for feeling like that. It wasn't your fault.

"You never have to apologize to me darling okay? I'm always here to clear whatever doubts or uncertainties you may have in your pretty head. I'm always here to assure you that those nagging thoughts are nothing but lies so talk to me okay? What's bothering you my love?" He spoke so gently as if you'd break if he was any harsher. He could relate to the feeling of not being able to feel enough.

"I uhh..I just..I don't feel like I'm enough for you, why are you with me Loki?" The question broke his heart, it did but he also knew that it was your fear speaking in the moment. He held you tightly and rocked you slowly from side to side.

"Why? Because I love you, because you're the only good thing in my life. Why? Because whenever I see you, everything that's wrong in my life starts to seem better. Everytime I am upset, your smile makes me realize that I'm here with you. The knowledge that I have someone to call my own now soothes me and I know whatever troubling obstacles I may come across I'll conquer them all with you by my side. That's why" you pulled away and looked at him as he whispered sweet words in your ears.

"I'm sorry I'm so difficult to be with sometimes" he cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead before he smiled.

"You're not difficult, you're only human darling. May I know what triggered you today please?" You looked down at the dress you wore and he understood. The moment he saw you in the dress he wanted to rip it off you and spend the whole night tangled up with you in the bed. To hell with Stark's party, knowing that this dress is what made you feel insecure today hurt him.

"Oh love you really don't see yourself the way I do" he wiped the residue of tears from your cheeks and you felt his fingers running over the seam of your zipper as he lowered them down slowly.

"Lo..baby" you mumbled in a quiet hushed tone and he pulled you closer, you placed your hands on his shoulder as he did.

"Shhhh now, you're my good girl aren't you?" You closed your eyes as you felt him pulling the straps down from your shoulders until they reached your midsection, in a second the dress was pooled around your legs leaving you in just your bra and panties.

"Ooh baby..I ..the party" you whined again but he pressed his index finger inside your warm mouth, your first instinct was to suck on it mindlessly so that's what you did. The sight made him hard in a jiff.

"Just take whatever I'm giving you darling girl, always ready for me aren't you, you're so beautiful norns..look at you" he looked in the mirror and he quickly pulled his finger out of your mouth, then he turned you around, you closed your eyes as soon you watched your half naked reflection.

You placed your head down on his shoulders as you felt his fingers rubbing over your clothed heat. A soft moan escaped your lips.

"Open your beautiful eyes my love"

"Lokiii"

"Open them for me" he told you strictly this time and you opened your eyes and pulled your head up. Your face contracted with every flick of his fingers, your mouth opened as you couldn't hold back the filthy little moans that emerged because of his skilled ministrations.

"You see that sweet girl? That's what I see everytime I'm doing this to you, and it's the prettiest sight to behold, watch how pretty you look as I touch your most intimate and luscious parts" he snaked his hand inside your now drenched panties and that made you gasp.

"Hear yourself love, the noises you make are the sexiest sounds I have ever heard. You want to know why?"

You nodded and bit on your lips, you were in shape to answer him anymore, you could only moan and whine as he built you up.

"Because they belong to you, my precious precious love and you're all mine darling and I swear on my life I'm all yours" his fingers flicked over your swollen nub while his other hand took your bra off with expertise.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror darling, look how perfect those tits are, fuck just looking at them makes me want to spend hours with my mouth latched onto them. I wouldn't leave unless I have marked them all blue with my name darling" A string of curses escaped your lips as his filthy words reached your ears. He took his hand out of your panties and then you watched him lick on his fingers obscenely.

"You always taste so sweet for me, so good for me, I love feeding on you but unfortunately I need to show you one more thing" he bent down to take your panties off, leaving you completely bare In front of the mirror while he was all dressed up in a fancy black suit. You felt so exposed, so displayed and you have never felt any sexier. In a matter of a few seconds, you heard the sound of his zip opening and you felt his hard cock enter you so swiftly. He groaned in your ears as he felt your tight quim wrapping around him

"Fuck..tight as ever, look how well you take me love.. look at us while i fuck you until you're ridden of all these foolish thoughts" he placed both of his hands in front of you and you interwined your hands with his. Then he wrapped his arms along with yours on your front as he thrusted in and out of you.

"Watch us, can't even tell us apart hmm? You're the only girl I would ever dream of fucking like this even when you leave me someday, this is what would keep me up at night, my cock belongs to you, I belong to you" you placed your head down on his shoulder as he fucked you slowly, then he'd go hard and fast and then slow down again..

"Imm..never..ever doing that.. please believe me" you whispered in his ear, his eyes watched you both in the mirror and it's truly the most erotic scenary he has ever witnessed.

"Only if you believe me..so good darling, you make me feel so good..you're my everything" the sounds of your moans mixed together as he fucked you until your both reached your peak

"Gonna cum inside you and take you to the party like this, they'd smell me on you and they'd know that I'm owned by the prettiest girl in the whole nine realms, inside out, just the prettiest" the praise intoxicated you, it made you weak in your knees, it made you melt into a puddle, and you knew you were dripping down all around him.

"Fuckkk cum darling, soak me love" he made you watch as you shattered around him, made you watch each n every movement as he exploded inside your warmth. He kept moving slowly as he came inside you, he didn't stop even as you both rode your highs together. You felt his warm breath as he panted heavily behind you. You weren't any better but you'd be lying if you said that you didn't feel better.

After he cleaned you up, he put your bra on, then he brought a fresh pair of panties and pulled it up your legs. Then he zipped your dress up, you looked at him all teary eyed as he drowned you in immense love and care.

"Thank you for everything loki..I love you so much" you wrapped your arms around his neck and he smiled then he kissed you softly.

"Thank you for being mine, I'm blessed my love and I'll always be here, I love you the most"

You felt amazing in that moment, he was the man of your dreams undoubtedly and even though you knew that you may feel conscious again you also knew that he would never let you sit with those intrusive and destructive thoughts. You knew that he'd make you feel better and he'd always be there for you whenever you'd need him.

As he walked you to the party, hand in hand and stayed by your side throughout the party you felt enough. And you knew that with his love in your life, someday you'd win over your insecurities too.

[sukirichi]

happy little accidents

— Life is a series of unfortunate events, but sometimes, there are happy little accidents.

REQUEST. (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight smut, slight exhibitionism (I think? there’s a CCTV lmao) just daddy megumi uwu

NOTES. hi anon, thank you for requesting and joining the event! I have to admit...I don’t really know how to write this and I just had to ask my mother about her experiences in pregnancy LMAO. I apologize in advance if this sucks, I’m pretty good at fluff but domestic and cute stuff with children isn’t my expertise asggkhl I’m awkward around babies and kids so anyways, I hope you like it! OH AND ALSO I HAVE A CAMEO LMAO

Megumi’s hands runs up under your shirt, bringing about a shiver forward when his cold fingers come into with your warm skin. You feel him smile onto the kiss, his grip nothing but teasing before he brushes the underside of your breast, prompting you to grip closer to his hoodie. You and him were childhood friends; having always liked one another until playing house was no longer a game a but dream, but his family was too strict and controlling – they’ve made it clear long ago this relationship could never and would never happen.

His Uncle Naoya made sure of it.

But that didn’t stop the both of you. All the way from highschool until now in your university days, you and Megumi are still stuck together by the hip, occasionally fucking whenever time allowed. Weekdays are spent staring longingly at each other in the hallways, the weekends flourishing into finally’s and hushed kisses under the sheets, completely unaware of the world you both trudged in.

Today was one of those days, and you’re nothing less of passionate as you swipe your tongue out to taste his lips, smiling when you realize he’s also grown used to wearing your mint flavoured lip balm. “Mhm, Megumi, I missed you,” you placed your legs beside his arms, a contented sigh entering his mouth as he closed his eyes.

“You miss me? I’m always around you,” he reminds you, pulling away momentarily to tug your shirt to the side where he leaves a soft patch of kisses. “Never gonna leave your side, baby.”

“You better not. I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

Megumi nods wholeheartedly in agreement, not wasting time before he pulls you closer to him. You’re almost weightless as you crash on top of him, hands tangled into the other’s hair and his large palm squeezing your breast. It produces a breathy moan from you, a thread of saliva connecting your lips when it comes again – that hellish bitter and sour bile that flows up to your throat. You push yourself off him and run to the bathroom, the content of your stomachs poured while your groans echo around the room.

He’s beside you in an instant, crouching beside you to pull your hair up and pat your back. Once you’ve finished throwing up, you clutch at the indistinguishable bloating of your stomach, leaning back into his touch while you slowly regain your composure.

Your head is throbbing uncomfortably again, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you press your thumbs against it.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Are you sick or something?”

You chuckle a bit from the way he frets over you, hands tilting your cheeks side to side while he pales, a sheen of worry visible on his hairline. He’s always been such a worrywart. You look behind him and see the box of condoms in your half-open medicine cabinet, the sight making your heart drop in your chest.

“Megs...when was the last time we had sex?”

“Well,” he scratches the back of his head, “We’ve both been busy from uni, so...last month, I guess? It’s been a long time.”

You swallowed audibly. You’ve recently gotten that box of condoms because if you remember correctly, last time you both skipped straight to the deed after realizing you ran out of it. Eyes flicking over his confused ones, your throat ran dry and itchy from the throw up session, your voice low as you say, “I’m three weeks late on my period, Megs.”

He looks just as shocked as you are, but he doesn’t give you the time to recover before he rushes out into your apartment. For a moment, you’re left heartbroken at the cold bathroom tiles, thinking that he left, but Megumi comes back a few minutes later, a pregnancy test kit and some chocolates inside a plastic bag. Your eyes widen when he gently ushers you to sit on the toilet, his feet tapping impatiently on the floor while you both wait for the result.

And there it is.

The timer on his phone goes off. Megumi rushes beside you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he blinks at the test kit. He turns to you and blinks in question, wondering what the hell it meant.

“’Gumi...it’s positive,” you cry out, sending him into a stagger backwards when you jump at him. Thankfully, he’s carried you too many times to count that he’s natural at hoisting you into his arms, still rendered speechless as you announce, “You’re going to be a dad!”

It’s been five whole months since you and Megumi turned into being stable fuck buddies, intent on hiding your relationship from both your families, into homeless and young parents whose fear over life and the future only increased tenfold now with the growing baby inside you.

You still remember that dreadful moment when both of you are kicked out into your family estate, Megumi’s Uncle Naoya especially enraged over the news. He doesn’t even give his nephew a chance to pack his bags before he signals the bodyguards to escort you out, then takes away all Megumi’s privileges and former luxury of being part of the Zenin Clan. You assume he’d want to strangle his pitiful Uncle for the never ending mistreatment, but your now boyfriend is nothing but happy, relieved that he’s been freed from the tight reins that always got in both your way.

Unbeknownst to the controlling Zenin Clan head, his wife is much more cunning than he is. He knows his wife always had some sorts of tricks hidden up in her sleeve, but even you were surprised when Megumi’s Aunt Suki shows up in your college dorm one day, throwing a set of keys your way with a wink before driving off back to become Naoya’s beloved trophy wife.

She lent you one of her high-estate apartments and even a humble car, silently wiring fees into your bank account since Megumi’s was already shut down.

Truly, if it wasn’t for her, you and Megumi wouldn’t be able to live this comfortably no matter how much both of you worked your ass off.

Now, none of you had to worry about not getting to make ends meet, no more worrying about putting your health at risk by working two jobs a day along with university – you and Megumi agreed to take advantage of her kindness just until the baby was born, opting to live quietly and comfortably in your shared home that would soon be filled with more memories. Well, as comfortably as you both could anyway, since pregnancy – although a beautiful experience – wasn’t always rainbows and unicorns.

Megumi comes home one day, the food you’ve always been craving from the Chinese restaurant from the other town present inside his bag. He’s tired from uni, even more so that he shares your burden of becoming new parents, but every time he comes home to you, all his exhaustion is wiped away, especially with the evident growth of your belly.

Your boyfriend runs up to you after placing the food on the counter, his arms wide open to get a hug – he’s gotten extremely touchy ever since the pregnancy – when you reel away from him, face turning green.

Your fingers come to pitch at your nose, eyes narrowed at his confused pout. “Ugh, Megumi, your deodorant stinks.”

“You were the one who got this for me, though,” his brows furrow as he lifts his sleeve up to sniff himself. He doesn’t smell bad... “You said you liked it on me,” he mumbles more to himself than you, staying still in his spot when he sees how colourless you’ve become. “Why are you looking at me like that? I showered today.”

“I can’t stand the smell of you, I can’t, gosh,” pushing past him, you rush to the toilets, the morning sickness well present all the way until sundown as you throw up. Megumi stands at the doorway, hands extended in front of him as he’s unsure whether he could help you or not. You firmly shake your head at him, lips turned into a sneer. “No, don’t get near me or I will honestly whack you with my purse, Megumi. Get rid of that deodorant and find a scent free one or something.”

Megumi is left with a slack jaw when you hop into bed afterwards, too tired and irritated to finish your papers. Seeing that he should probably do the same and pamper you instead, Megumi is silent as he crawls under the covers, only to be kicked out with a harsh kick to his thigh and a fiery, “Get out!”

“Nobara,” he whines into the phone, too fearful to even look at the bedroom at the thought that you’d feel his gaze and get even angrier. Your instincts and senses sharpens with each passing day; he won’t risk it. “My girlfriend hates me!”

“I could see why.”

Megumi groans at his friend’s flippant tone, the sound of a nail file grazing acrylics mixed with lo-fi music playing from the other line. “I’m serious – she doesn’t even want me a foot near her! When I tried to join her on the bed, she literally woke up just to hit me with a pillow. Right in the face!”

“Let me guess, you’re banned from the bedroom and staying on the couch?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sulks on the couch, “I don’t know why she hates me. I can’t imagine what I did wrong.”

“You don’t have to do anything wrong for a pregnant woman to hate you, Fushiguro. It’s not your fault your face is just really annoying,” Megumi makes a sound of protest before slapping a hand over his lips, nervous gaze darting at your door again. He relaxes into the seat; you’ve probably fallen asleep. “But on a more serious note, I think it’s the hormones. She’s erratic right now and you can’t blame her, she’s literally growing a child inside of her, dude, are you crying?”

“She might divorce me because of my deodorant.”

“Idiot, you two aren’t even married!” Nobara bellows loud enough that Megumi pulls the phone away from his ear, waiting until she’s calmed down and continues speaking like she didn’t just burst his ear drums. “Listen, just be extra sweet and careful around her, okay? Don’t open your mouth as well unless you want to die. Now get a notepad or something, we’re going to devise the best Baby Mama Seduction Plan that is guaranteed to win her heart.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Nobara!”

“Hmph, you owe me tickets to that fashion show though. Get your rich ass uncle to pull some connections or something.”

“Nobara, you know I can’t—”

“Oh shit, is that your girl about to kick you in the face?” Megumi yelps as his body flips at the direction of your room, both hands raised in surrender with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He sighs – the door is still closed – he should be safe for now. Meanwhile, Nobara snickers cockily, almost as if she could see everything. As always, Nobara was triumphant. “That’s right, we both don’t want that to happen, so stick to your end of the deal man.”

Megumi stays up the whole night to execute Nobara’s plan. It’s tiring to run back and forth in the open convenience stores just to fill the fridge up with all your favourite food, but Megumi is determined to have you accept him again, even if he knows you’re not actually rejecting him.

By the time you’ve woken up, all beautiful and glowing as you pad out your room, Megumi stands up straight to conceal his body ridden with exhaustion. He just wants to make you happy.

“What’s all this?”

“You’ve been working hard,” he starts off unsurely, a hand scratching the back of his head as he gauges for your reaction. You plop down on the dining table and don’t scowl as you take a whiff of the food, blinking for a few seconds before you dig in. It’s enough for him to take as a go-signal, and he walks beside you carefully, his voice wavering and soft. “I just wanted to surprise you – show you how much I love and admire you...all that.”

“That’s suspicious,” you mouth through a mouthful of dumpling, but smile anyways with your arms extended. “Come here, give me a kiss.”

Megumi is beyond elated as he buries himself in the warmth of your arms again, sighing when you kiss his cheeks and jaw. “Are we good?”

“Did you replace your deodorant?”

“Yes...”

“Good boy,” you kiss him on the lips this time. Megumi has the audacity to blush as if he didn’t just fuck a baby into you, making you laugh before you slap his ass, last night’s irration now replaced with a reminder that this was Megumi – your first love and everything more. There was no way you wouldn’t be ‘good’ with him; you’d go to heavens and back for him, but maybe once you’re done birthing his child. “Yeah, we’re good. Get the mint choco ice cream pint for me?” Megumi sprints to perform your commands, and you reward him by pulling him in for a deeper kiss the time, his lips so sweet and minty. You can’t help but sigh, falling for him over and over again. “You’re such a sweetheart, Megs. This is why I’m head over heels for you.”

“You didn’t want me sleeping beside you for a week straight though.”

Your nose scrunches at the memory – that slight change in your expression making Megumi step back – as you wave a spoon at him, glaring at him in warning. “Like I said, you stank.”

But...pregnancy wasn’t all that bad for the both of you. There were times you’re unable to keep your hands off him. Although unexpected and mostly occurring in the most inconvenient situations, Megumi can’t say he’s complaining, especially not when you push him towards the wall just as the elevator doors closed.

“Daddy,” you moan, guiding his hands into your already soaking wet panties. Megumi breathes sharply as he cups your drenching core, wondering how you’ve gotten this aroused without him doing anything sexual in particular.

The nickname spilling past your lips is unforeseen though, as is his growing kink for it when he hardens immediately.  

“Please, please, please, I need you so much – make me feel good, will you?”

Megumi has to pin your needy, trailing hands all over his chest down to your sides, his pupils blown wide as the elevator ascends from one floor to the other. His eyes dart to the blinking red light from the cameras, his Adam’s apple bobbing when you don’t stop in the slighthest, only leaning forward to tug and nip at the skin of his neck. Megumi groans at your ministrations; you know very well that was his sensitive spot. “Y/N, we’re literally in the elevator, just wait until we get back home—”

When Megumi tries to push you away to stop your hands from palming his boner, you growl, eyes fierce and heated as you turn to him. “Do you want me to chop your dick off and prevent you from having a second child?”

“N-no.”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

“Fuck, okay, don’t blame me if I make you sore, though.”

You roll your eyes at him, your hands moving expertly as you bunch your skirt up to your waist to show him that your bud was already swollen just for him. “Megumi, my boobs are already are its most sore point, I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Megumi makes quick work of shoving his pants down just to his knees, gentle yet needy as he pushes your chest flat on the walls, round and perky ass puckered for him to take you already. He could cum just from the sight of you bending over for him like this, your arousal already dripping down your thighs as you wiggle your hips at him, breathless in the desire to be taken once more.

There were still fifteen floors to go before you reached your destination. Megumi’s brows pinch together in anxiety that anyone could press for the lift, but you’re also submissively bent over for him, moaning and gasping his name even when it’s only the tip of his cock sliding into you.

He sees the way your fingers hover over the buttons, clearly more prepared to shut the doors and deny others entry than he was, and he thinks fuck it to himself before he buries himself deep into you, head thrown back at the heavenly and salacious feeling of fucking you raw. You’re somehow warmer and tighter, wetter with puffier lips during your second trimester. Just as he blanches at the thought he could hurt you, he remembers the doctor’s encouragement of more sex. Being the good boyfriend he is, Megumi fucks hard into you, groaning and panting when your walls clamp down on him.

He only wants to help you.

Days of rubbing your feet and singing to your belly were gone – now replaced with laughter pouring into your house and switching from listening to Mother Mother into actually enjoying nursery rhymes playing from the stereo.

It feels just like yesterday when he rushes you to the emergency room, your hand nearly crushing his during your contractions before you gave birth to his child.

Megumi has never really been much of an emotional person, preferring to be calm and stoic unless you’re around; the rare times he actually lets his walls down. Surrounded by a group of doctors, though, Megumi stops caring about saving face when they hand him his daughter. He isn’t the least bit embarrassed when he sobs upon seeing the tiny bundle of joy in his arms, so small and vulnerable that promised there and then – he’d do everything he can to protect his child and give them the best future.

Fushiguro Megumi is a hands-down helicopter dad. The moment you’re able to take your daughter back home, he’s already had the whole house baby proofed. Along with studying for his exams, he’s also switching back and forth to parenting guide books.

You can tell he’s taking his job as a dad very seriously. Megumi doesn’t hesitate to shoot out of the bed in the middle of the night whenever he hears his daughter cry, racing you to her crib while he rocks her back and forth and you prepare her milk. You’re both utterly tired and sleep deprived, your head resting on his shoulder as your baby calms down in his arms. Faintly, you feel him kiss the top of your head, encouraging you to go back to sleep with the assurance he can handle it.

But of course, you’re the stubborn parent, and you drag your boyfriend and daughter back to bed, making sure there was enough space to make her comfortable before falling asleep.

Being a parent – especially with the love of your life – has never felt any more magical.

Of course, it was hard and definitely not a walk in the park, but it was worth it. Every time you came home from school, Megumi would already be there, his daughter babbling nonsensically in his arms while he prepared her meals. At the sounds of the door opening, both of them would run to you, showering you with kisses while you did the same.

Both your families have still refused to accept you back – not that you both minded – but it was getting shameful to keep relying on his relative to provide for your family. Eventually, you and Megumi decided that the other stays to take care of your baby while you work after class.

You’re staggering inside your home like a zombie after a long day, muscles aching from too much work and brain barely functioning due to the lack of sleep. With a long, drawn out sigh, you plop on the couch next to your boyfriend who jolts back awake, still careful not to let his drooling daughter wake up in his arms. Upon seeing it’s just you, Megumi leans over to kiss you on the nose, smelling sweetly of floral detergent powder and baby cologne.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs at your skin, your eyes already fluttering close at the comfort and warmth of home. “Scarlet is fast asleep. She couldn’t wait for you to kiss her goodnight anymore.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Mommy will always come home to the two most precious people in the world,” Now, it’s your turn to kiss Megumi to remind him he’s also doing a great job. You know he’s working just as hard you are, and you honestly don’t think you could do this without him. “Megumi,” you begin, tracing soft circles into his wrist to feel his lulling heartbeat.

“Hmm?”

“Have I ever told you I loved you?”

“I think I know that already,” he smiles romantically at you – even after years, you’re still very much smitten with that smile, and the sight of him and your daughter alone has you relaxing back in your seat.

“Yes, but you need to hear it again,” you tell him, cupping his face into your palms. Megumi sighs as he leans closer into your warmth, his hands patting your daughter’s back to soothe her in her slumber. “You’re such a natural at this – being a father. I’m really lucky I had a family with you. It’s all I ever wanted,” Burying yourself closer into his arms and collecting the both of them into an embrace, you smile into his shoulder, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. “I don’t think life is gonna get better than this, Megs. I’m so happy right now I feel like I could die.”

“Don’t say the d-word around her,” he jokes, the two of you sharing tired and dry laughter. Once the amusement subsides, Megumi’s other hand shifts to squeeze your thigh to get your attention. “Y/N...do you ever think about...making us official?”

“What do you mean?” you mumble sleepily, “How else official could we get? We live together and we have a baby. Soon, we’re going to be employed too and then we can provide better for her and stop relying on Aunt Suki so much,” Megumi nods above you, but his lack of response is worrying that you look up to him, frowning as you see that his face is pulled deep into thought. “We’re already a family, Megs. What’s on your mind?”

“I want to marry you,” he blurts out, “I want to make you mine and mine only – I see a future and a forever with you,” Megumi looks you straight in the eye the whole time. “Marry me, Y/N. Please.”

You’re rendered speechless.

You love him so much, you really do, and nothing about that will change. After spending a lifetime with you, Megumi knows just by looking at your face that there’s a but coming afterward and he clenches his jaw, sadness swirling in his eyes that you have to stop him before his thoughts run off again. “I want that too, Megumi, believe me,” you reassure, brushing his hair back with your fingers; a gesture that always pulled him back to you. “I just don’t want to rush things, you know? We can still barely stand on our own and we have Scarlet to worry about. I think we should focus more on her future than ours.”

Megumi nods, albeit disappointed, though this doesn’t stop him from kissing you straight on the lips before he mutters, “I understand but...think about it, at least?”

“You already know my answer would be yes.”

“Scarlet! I wonder where my little princess is hiding,” Megumi announces from outside your room, your toddler giggling beside you as you both hide behind the closet hand-in-hand. Four years later, you and Megumi are married, and life’s gotten a lot easier – in addition to it being a whole lot more domestic since Megumi takes his husband title just as seriously as being a father. Right now, he’s crawling outside, his voice lowered in an attempt to be scary. “If I find her, she’s going to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Tickle monster!” Scarlet gasps beside you, turning to you with wide eyes. “Mummy, I don’t want tickles!”

“Then we better be quiet so Daddy doesn’t find us!”

With your voice intentionally louder than a whisper, it doesn’t take long before Megumi opens the closet doors, carrying you both effortlessly before dropping you all down onto the bed. “I found you!” You all tickle each other and laugh, your daughter falling into panicked squeals while you chortle at the side. Megumi then hoists Scarlet up before the both of you kiss both sides of her cheeks, sending the giggling child into an utter ticklish mess.

While the two are busy tickling one another, you feign a gasp, clutching at your husband’s bicep.  “Megumi!” your eyes widen, pointing deftly at the kitchen with trembling lips for effect. “Can you please check the oven – I think I left something in there and it might be burning!”

“I don’t smell anything,” is all he says, but runs there anyway. Megumi stands in front of in confusion, Scarlet safely bundled in his arms while her father opens the oven, frowning as he takes the object out and inspects it. “Mittens? But Scarlet is already—” Just then, Megumi’s jaw drops, his grin stretched wide while Scarlet keeps poking at the mittens, trying to make them fit into her slightly larger hands. “No way. Another one?”

“Another candy?”

You laugh at Megumi’s beaming face that matches his daughter’s – the two looking too much alike – but for completely opposite reasons. “We’ll get you all the candies you want, sweetheart,” you swipe a candy from the counter and hand it to your daughter’s grabby hands, pecking Megumi’s cheeks who is still beyond flustered at the announcement. “But yeah we have another one – and it’s a boy!”

[8bitscarlet]

Witchcraft

Summary: You've found yourself falling deeper into a certain witch's spell. But no matter how strong the magic is, it seems that the two of you just keep missing each other.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Angst/Fluff (minor cussing)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is a fic for @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest writing exchange. This one is for @mrsromanoff and the prompt: "I can't keep kissing strangers and thinking they're you." Hope you like it!

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours.*

________________

You never thought your three month assignment with the Avengers would've extended as long as it has. Missions went by with minimal injuries and maximum wins. You found yourself settling well into the chaos of the compound; the echoing boasts of Thor, the competitive edge of Danvers and the snark between Romanoff and Stark. When your three months were up, it wasn't a surprise to anyone that you immediately signed the contract from Stark, an official placement on the team.

Despite all of the alien blasters, Hydra experiments and Tony's benefit parties, nothing could've prepared you for a single person to rock your world. It started innocently enough; stolen glances at meals and ensuring you two were on the same mission team. As time continued, things turned less innocent; sneaking off during charity balls to suck face in the broom closet, you could recall a few times you were nearly caught in the back of the Quinjet. There was something about this woman. The way her fingers slithered through your hair, how those green eyes made your heart say yes, she stripped you bare.

You had convinced yourself it was witchcraft. It had to be.

Sitting with your cheek pressed against your fist, you find yourself doodling as Steve drones on in the background. Someone nudges you and as you turn, Wanda raises her brows when your eyes connect. With a groan, you raise the pen in your hand. Steve notices, stopping his spiel to look at you with a clenched jaw.

"With all due respect, Cap, we all got in at four this morning. Do we need a recap of the mission right now?"

Steve sighs, glancing at everyone and seeing them agreeing with you. You all had barely had time to unpack, let alone write your after action reports.

"Alright, Y/N. We'll go over how your pants tore mid-fight on Monday."

You point your pen at him, warning him as you watch his stupid smile fill his face. Bucky slaps your shoulders in gratitude, picking up Alpine onto his shoulders as he strides out to find Sam. Wanda's fingers gently brush yours as you walk side by side, sending an electric charge through your body.

"You know, when someone says 'with all due respect,' they really mean, 'kiss my ass'." Wanda glances at you with a sly smile.

Walking backwards towards the couch, you outstretch your arms with a grin, "Because that's what I meant, darling."

Chuckling, you roll over the back of the couch and plop down onto the cushions, your head landing perfectly on a pillow. Wanda lets out a scoff, knowing how many times it's taken you to actually land on the cushion and not the floor.

Flipping through the pages of her book, you watch her through half-closed eyes. A year ago you'd be asking what she was reading. A year ago, she'd curl up with you and explain it all. A year ago, you didn't have guilt eating at you.

Things a year ago were more than good between you. There might have even been a chance beyond friends with benefits. You knew you wanted that. Every time you looked at her, you couldn't stop your pounding heart or the warmth that grew in your stomach.

But you were stupid.

Chickening out every chance you had to ask her on an actual date rather than sneaking around to make her moan. You both had set ground rules, no strings attached. If it got too messy, you both had to call it quits. So, you convinced yourself it was better to quietly love her and keep her, than to tell the truth and lose her.

That was before the year long mission with Carol and Bucky. Before you realized how big of a mistake it was two months in. Before every day texts and video chats diminished to every other week, then every other month. Before you got back to the compound and saw her kissing up on some random benefactor at the Welcome Home Party. It was definitely before she started dating that walking toaster, Vision.

Luckily, he hadn't been around much the past month so watching them kiss and stare into each other's eyes was doable, mostly because you turned whenever you saw that stupid spark plug.

Four months since coming home, you've tried to fill the void the witch had created in your body, your soul. You went out with Carol and Bucky, prowling the town and the bar. Matching shot for shot some nights, waking up in random apartments other nights. Eventually Bucky did what you never did.

He asked Sam on a date and that left you and Carol. Until she started hooking up with Maria and dragged her along so you wouldn't be hitting the bars alone. You had made yourself a pity case.

"Do you need something?" Wanda cocks a brow at you, making a face at your prolonged staring.

You clear your throat, feeling the heat rush through your face, "You look a little sunburnt."

With a shrug and a chuckle, Wanda bookmarks her page as she places it down on the coffee table. Standing, she sits down on the couch, your body automatically scooting over to accommodate her. Holding out her red and glowing hand, you watch her pull off her rings, displaying the radiating tan lines running up and down her fingers. A laugh escapes you as you feel her hand slap against your chest.

"I didn't have anyone to put sunscreen on me!" She groans, "It burns!"

You guide your finger gently down her exposed arm, pressing in slightly to her warm skin. As you lift, you see the true color of her skin before it's bombarded with the glowing red of her burn. Glancing up, her green eyes watch you carefully, both of you not acknowledging the weight of her hand still on your chest.

"An aloe vera massage would do wonders," You whisper, "And I'm all out."

With a roll of her eyes, she leans back into your legs, "You really are a pain in my ass, y'know? When I tell people about you, that's the first thing I say."

Watching her float the remote to her awaiting hand, you grin, "Oho, so you're telling people about me, huh?"

"Please, check the ego there."

For the next moment, the two of you sit peacefully in each other's silence. Wanda was one who clung to those she trusted. When you came back, it was like she had superglued herself to you any time you walked into the room. It didn't help that you were still madly in love and she was taken.

Right now though, you watch her delicate fingers play with yours. Her eyes squinting with laughter as she watches her sitcoms, glancing to see if you're laughing as well.

A commercial echoes through the living room and Wanda lets out a sigh for attention, patting your thigh as she drops your hand. You don't move it as it lands atop her thigh, only gently stroke your thumb against the silky skin you wish could press against yours. Letting out a noise that you're both awake and paying attention to her, she glances over at you.

"Since you got Captain America to actually give us a free weekend, what's your plan tonight, casanova?"

You shrug, "I have early training with Bucky and-."

Wanda moves her whole body to face you, your hand slipping from her thigh as confusion spreads across her face. She lets out an unbelieving scoff,

"You're joking. You used to show up half drunk to training and still kick ass."

She's watching you carefully and you try to keep a neutral look on your face, she knows all of your quirks. Glancing up at her with a small grin, you pull your legs into you. Shifting yourself, you sit properly on the couch and run your hands through your hair.

"Just don't want to go out tonight. It's boring." You chuckle, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

Wanda rolls her eyes, "Why, no one catches your eye anymore?"

Another playful nudge and you sigh. All this playful teasing, these light touches. She has to know what she's doing.

Trying to keep a steady and nonchalant shrug, you shake your head,

"No one out there."

And you might've gotten away with it. Instead, you fell into the magnetic pull of those green eyes that cause you so much trouble. As your eyes land on hers, you can see the dilation within her pupils. Then the realization across her face. Her playful grin falls as she stares at you, blinking slowly.

"Y/N," She says slowly, "If you're doing what I think-."

You stand up quickly, your feet taking you to the other end of the coffee table. In two days you'll be gone and you'll be back in the place you hate being in right now. Placing your hands on your waist, you look up from your tapping foot.

"Wanda, I can't keep kissing strangers and thinking they're you."

Silence meets your face. You watch her as she slowly nods at you, "That's exactly what you're doing."

Groaning, she slides her fingers through her hair, pinning it from her face. Wanda lets out a careful breath before looking up at you, "What happened to no strings?"

Slapping your hands against your thighs in frustration, you let out a scornful chuckle, "Come on, Wanda. You know those rules were bullshit! No strings means not going on exclusive trips to museums and restaurants!" You watch her eyes flicker around the room, trying to find a way to disprove what you're saying. "It means not staying up all night when the other is sick!"

Wanda stands up quickly and you can see the look on her face, she knows what you're getting to. Waving her hand to get you to shut up, she tries to get to the stairs but your words blurt from your mouth,

"It means not falling in love!"

Her feet stop carrying her towards the stairs, her body frozen in the middle of the compound. Carefully, you step towards her, leaning ever so slightly to try and catch her eyes. They're glazed over from your confession, trying to understand the implications.

"I left. I..." You suck in a shaky breath, "I thought it would be easier if I wasn't here. You were so adamant about no strings, Wands. I broke the only rule, why would I stay?"

Her head jerks back at your words, her brows furrowing deeply down her face. Without another second to keep talking, Wanda's feet pivot as she shoots a finger into your face. You jerk away from her advance, seeing the growing mist within her eyes as she shouts,

"That's why you left?"

The crack in her voice sends one through your heart.

She turns quickly, her hands violently wiping at the tears that have broken free. You clench your brows. She's angry at you? You're the one who's had to watch her prance around with Vision, you just a memory of romance. Just before she can grab her bag and leave, you call out,

"Well, you seem to have fared better than me!"

As the words leave your lips, you bite down hard and shut your eyes. A surprised choke exits Wanda's throat as she throws her purse back onto the side table, knocking over the decorative bowl of rocks. They scatter across the ground but she doesn't notice, all of her rage is pointing at you. Her fingers run violently through her auburn hair, looking like she wants to rip it out.

"You are infuriating!" She jabs a fingers at you, "Why think that?! Because I'm dating Vision? He's filling a void, dumbass!"

Her words stab into you as her stomps draw nearer, you can feel the heat of her anger. She's not done, she's not letting you off easy.

"Every time he touches me, every time he kisses me. God, Y/N! All I can see is your dumb face."

Wanda's heavy breath washes over you as she finally stops her assault, so close you can see the blue in her green eyes. Her body radiates out to you and you have to force your hands into your pocket to not grab her and kiss her. Your eyes dip to her lips but you see sadness that has quickly replaced the facade of anger. Making a small fist, she slams it into your chest as her head bows. Her arm slides down your body, hanging limply at her side as she looks to you.

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

Wanda's fingers twitch forward, wanting to grab onto you. You sigh, taking your hands from your pockets and resting them on your waist. Your confession was supposed to be more romantic than this. Instead, you brought up issues you both were trying to ignore. You were angry now at yourself, taking it all out on the person you loved. You'd spent too long with all of this pent up emotion though, and it was all pouring out in waves.

"I have to finish my requisition forms. Get my gear ready."

You don't have to look up to know what face Wanda is making at you. It's the same face she had when you left the first time. The way her brows clenched together in disbelief, the pain behind her reddened eyes that threatened to spill more tears, how her chin trembled as she tried to breathe.

Her voice barely passes a whisper but standing so close, you hear every broken syllable, "You're leaving again."

You sigh, rubbing your throbbing temples as you feel your nose stuff up.

"You drop all of that on me and you're just going to turn around and leave?"

Shaking your head, you want this conversation to end. It's obvious where she is and it's not next to you.

"Don't you have a date or something?" You ask.

Wanda's been around you too long to not see exactly what you're doing. She lets out a chuckle, a lethal look in her eyes.

"No, you're right. And that date seems a hell of a lot better than this." Without another word, she snatches her purse from the table and starts to climb the stairs, leaving your feet frozen. Just as she reaches the middle of the staircase, she stops. You can feel her stare burning into you and as you look her way, you wish you hadn't.

"You're a coward."

Those words burn into your brain, rising through your ears and torture you for the rest of the day. The only thing you could think to do was slam your fists into the closest thing. The punching bags. People came and went, eyeing you try and punch away your frustrations to no avail. When the sun finally had sunk below the horizon, one Avenger had enough of your pity party.

"You know she's right." A voice comes from behind you.

You don't respond to them, just dodge the swaying bag. They walk into the room, stopping just inside of your peripheral.

"You're an idiot, you know."

With a chuckle, you sidestep the bag, "You need to be a little more specific."

"You're losing her again."

Another punch, "Uh huh."

Carol sighs next to you, "And you sent her away on her date."

"Yup."

She steps in front of the bag, stopping its movement and stares at you with determination in her eyes, "And you're not going after her?"

Avoiding her stare, you start to unwrap your hands, wiping at the sweat that pours down your face. Stopping, you can feel the cramp in your side and the throbbing of your knuckles. Chucking the wrap, you let out a shrug,

"Is there a point?"

Carol shoves the bag into you, grabbing your attention, "I am not going on another mission with you while you sulk. Do you know you talk in your sleep? Yeah. Guess what name I heard that whole year?"

You shake you head, licking your chapped lips as you search for water, "She didn't say it back."

You hear an exasperated chuckle from Carol, "Y'know Y/N, I'm going to go on a limb and say she wasn't expecting all of that to be thrown in her face."

Shooting her a glare, she keeps talking, "I'm saying this once. If you think this is going to be some cheesy Rom-Com where she bursts through those doors and confesses her love, you're more of an idiot than I thought." A finger jabs hard into your chest as you grimace, "You need to fix this."

Carol leaves you there with your head filled with more thoughts than before. Wanda was happy with Vision wasn't she? She hadn't talked about him much but you knew she had to be. Who were you to go and screw that up?

Night turned into morning and after staring up at your ceiling, you knew you weren't getting any sleep.

Sneaking down the stairs, you see everyone is still asleep. You take the opportunity to sit in more silence and wait for the coffee machine to finish steaming. The sun was just beginning to shine its red hues into the kitchen as you stood at the counter, twirling your empty mug. Lost in thought, you failed to hear the padding of feet coming down the stairs.

"I thought you had early training."

With a quiet chuckle, you lean into the counter, "You caught me."

In silence, you watch the witch pour in her coffee. The same amount of creamer and sugar every time, the same motions every morning since you've noticed her. Turning, she sees your mindless fingers twisting and turning your empty mug. Wanda raises her brows and holds out her hand,

"Refill?"

You hand over the mug and watch her work her magic on the black liquid, turning it into the caramel drink you love. Breathing in deeply, you watch the bubbles swirl around the liquid. You furrow your brows,

"I can never make mine taste-."

"We broke up."

Her words slam into you, your breath catching inside of your throat. Looking up, Wanda stands there in the middle of the kitchen, unsure if she had truly spoken or not. She looks up at you, her mouth closing as she realizes she doesn't know what she's doing.

"What? Wands, are you okay?" You start to stand to go and comfort her, you know they had a date yesterday. Did the son of a microwave hurt her?

Wanda's hand rises, stopping you in your tracks before she takes a quiet breath, "We broke up almost a month ago, Y/N."

Nodding at your obliviousness, you knock your knuckles against the counter as you press your lips into a thin line, "We're both liars then."

"Tell me you lied about the mission," She whispers, leaning into the counter. Her fingers laying gently across yours.

Your chest constricts as you sigh, "I didn't."

You watch her sullen nod, curling hair falling out of her messy bun as you gently graze your thumb across her knuckles. She quietly chuckles,

"We just missed each other."

Stopping your thumb, you clench your jaw. This isn't going to happen again.

"Wanda," You whisper, listening to the sad hum she gives you as she glances up with bloodshot eyes, "I'm sorry. I was scared and... I was an idiot."

Wanda pats your hand with a loud sniff, "I appreciate it, but-."

She doesn't continue. She doesn't want to believe that you're leaving. The love you feel wouldn't be strong enough to survive that time apart again. There's broken support beams and one thing will send it falling down. A far away mission isn't the nurturing this budding feeling needs.

Wanda tries her best to flash you a grin, "Let me teach you how to make coffee."

Before she can turn, you grab her hand quickly, "I'd prefer if you made it."

As you walk around the counter, you gently rest a hand on her waist, watching her carefully. Her handgrips your arm tightly, words stuttering from her lips as she tries to remind you that she's not going. You're leaving her again.

Without hesitation, you press your lips against hers, feeling her breath wash over you in a sigh. You pull her in tighter, leaning your head back to speak,

"Sam's going stir crazy. He can have it."

A smile tugs at your lips as you see her furrowed brows on her face, you place a kiss at the center of the wrinkles, pulling back to see the scrunching of her nose. A scrunch just for you.

"Wanda Maximoff. I love you. And I'm not losing you twice."

Without warning, her lips smash against your as she wraps her arms around your shoulders as you hoist her up. Wanda's legs wrap around you as both of you are smiling so wide that you can't kiss properly. Feeling her cold hands press gently against your face, you look into those green eyes that complete you life.

"I love you." Wanda whispers as her witchcraft wraps around you once more.

[floating-mid-air]

The Princess of all Saiyans

 -

 Masterlist

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Hey Everyone! It's been a while. My life's been kind of hectic the past couple of months. Long story short: I Graduated from Highschool this year, so I was busy with everything having to do with that. Then my summer job sadly prevented me from writing as well. And then I started College, which was a big change for me. For now, there are no more chapters in my life opening or closing. Now I'm finally in a place where I feel comfortable continuing this book again. I could've honestly been writing during all of this chaos. But I wouldn't have been pleased with the quality of my writing. I'm really excited to get back into the swing of things. I don't think this chapter panned out the way I originally planned, but I'm still happy with it. As always, I hope you enjoy it. And if you have any comments or concerns, feel free to let me know. My inbox is always open!

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Chapter 11

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You've been walking for quite some time now, and the experience has been excruciating. You haven't been in this much pain since you and Raditz were on planet Telia, ten-something years ago. Those damn underlings were able to get a good sneak attack on you. Though you can't say, you let them get away scot-free. You made sure to make their entire dreadful race pay for that injury. You and Raditz had covered up that incident, much like you're doing with your current injury.

"So---" You can hear Goku talking to Krillin from just slightly left of you. "Did you guys find the senzu beans?" Wow, Kakarot may be the least subtle creature you've ever encountered.

"Ya." Krillin chuckles. "All four of us were in pretty rough shape." Goku glances at you with a worried look on his face. You glare at him as Raditz eyes the two of you skeptically. He knows something's off between the two of you. Maybe something serious did happen while you and his brother were trapped together. 

A bit more time has passed, and you've been trying your best to keep up with the others. But it isn't as easy as you thought. You're now trailing behind the rest of them, with Raditz turning back to look at you every so often. The largest Saiyan slows down to catch up with your slower pace, now walking beside you.

He turns to you, whispering in a low tone. "Something's off." Raditz can no longer stay silent about his concerns. First, it was the strange vibes between you and Kakarot. And now it's your out-of-character demeanor making him uneasy.

"About what?"

"You. Typically you walk beside your brother, and when he doesn't let you, you make sure you're always only a few paces behind. But right now, you couldn't be more content to trail everyone. Plus, you're far too confident to not be in the very front." Raditz has been around far too long for your liking. Damn him. He knows you far too well, and you hate him for it.

You roll your eyes at him. "So this conclusion of yours is based on the way I'm walking? I'm tired. When I fought, Burter, that physically drained me. And then I got trapped in a ditch with your moronic brother, that mentally drained me. I'm exhausted, Raditz." 

"It's not just the way you're walking. It's your mannerisms as well." He points at your side. "Your hand hasn't moved from your side from the moment I first saw you."

"God, Raditz." You scoff. "Stop overanalyzing everything."

"Getting defensive now? That's your M.O whenever you're hiding something." He looks back and forth between your face and your hand that has remained glued to your side. The gears in the older Saiyan's head slowly but surely turning. " Y/N, are you hurt?" 

"No." You snap your eyes shut, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to suppress a wince of pain. "I'm fine."

He tilts his head at you. "Y/N, I know you claim otherwise, but I'm not stupid. I know you're in pain."

You chuckle softly in a self-pitying way. "Am I that easy to read?"

Raditz shakes his head, smiling to himself. "No, I've just known you for a long time now." He returns to his serious demeanor, his gaze returning to the area of your wound. "How bad is it?"

"I barely feel it at all. Though, climbing out of that ditch must have reopened the cut."

Raditz snickers. "You're a bad liar."

"That's strange. I've been told in the past that I'm quite good at lying."

A smirk spreads across Raditz's lips. "Well, you apparently aren't when I'm involved."

The larger Saiyan glances at the back of your brother's head. You respond with a glare, firmly pulling on a large chunk of his hair. You know what Raditz wants to do, and it's not happening. "Don't even think about it."

"I-I think we should tell him Y/N."

"No." You let go of his hair, tapping his chest with extreme force. "You're going to keep your big mouth shut. Vegeta will freak out. You know how irrational he gets."

Raditz decides to let you have your way--- for now. The man can't help but wonder why you're so stubborn, but then again, his nature isn't much different from yours.

With every minute that passes, your condition only seems to worsen. Your eyes even start to droop. "Y/N?" Raditz turns to you, his features beginning to fill with worry. He places one of his large hands on your forehead. You're burning up. "You have a fever. Your wound must be infected."

"No." You shake your head in disagreement, almost like a child. As your mental state becomes more and more delirious. 

"Vegeta!" Raditz shouts, gaining your brother's attention.

"Fuck you, Raditz! You're such a blabbermouth!" You shout at the larger Saiyan in front of you.

"What's wrong this time? Is my sister trying to pull you into another one of her elaborate schemes?"

"Y/N's hurt--- bad." Vegeta's eyes widen, and not even a millisecond later, he rushes to your side. "She has a fever. I think her cut is infected."

"Where is it?" He crosses his arms at you, noticing your hand placed firmly on your side. He moves your hand out of the way with ease, lifting your armor. "How did this happen?"

"Burter nicked me during our fight. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? It's infected, you stupid woman!" He turns his attention to Kakarot. "Did you know about this?"

You snicker. "Oh ya, Vegeta. I get hurt, and the first person I run to tell is Kakarot." Vegeta's fists clench at your sarcastic remark, turning his fit of rage back at you.

"You know, in certain situations, you're more prone to infections. And a planet like Namek checks all of the boxes! You know you need to be more careful. Damn our mother and her faulty genetics!" Sadly that's a trait you had inherited from your mother. On most planets, you'd be fine, and injuring yourself would be no big deal. But Namek has specific conditions that result in you being more vulnerable. 

"Raditz, pick her up." Raditz picks you up, giving you a piggyback ride. You wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself better balance. Vegeta glances up at you. He looks even madder than usual. "With the condition, you're in, you will not be fighting. You will stay away from Jeice, and you won't even enter the same proximity as Ginyu. Do you understand me?"

"But--"

"No!" His voice booms, gaining the attention of every creature for miles. "I'm not kidding around. Do you understand me?"

You bite your lip, tilting your head downwards, avoiding your brother's gaze like the plague. "Yes, Vegeta." Vegeta returns to the front of the group, his mood sourer than ever.

As Raditz begins to walk, he starts talking to you again. "Are you mad at me?" You don't verbally respond. Instead, you claw into his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. "Fuck. I'll take that as a yes."

"You're a tattletale."

Raditz chuckles. "No wonder why Vegeta babies you. You'll thank me for this later, you stubborn woman. And I've kept your secrets before, handfuls of them, actually. Like what happened on planet Telia----" Raditz realized the grave mistake he had just made, mentioning that incident in the presence of the very being you worked so hard to hide it from.

You slap the older Saiyan upside the head as Vegeta turns backward, a scowl plastered on his face. "What happened on plant Telia?" It was a rhetorical question, mocking both you and Raditz. "Oh, the three of us will be discussing this in length later. Because it sounds to me like you both lied to me on that initial report." You and Raditz gulp, you've heard that tone from your brother millions of times now, and it has never once become any less terrifying. 

"Oh, lighten up, Geta." You groan. "That was like, what? Around thirteen years ago?"

"The amount of time that has passed matters very little to me. As I said before, this is a discussion for later."

A few more hours have passed, which honestly feels like days at this point. And considering Namek's strange day cycle, it very well could've been. "How much farther?" Your question was clearly directed at Vegeta. And at this point, you're not even sure he has any idea where you're headed either.

"I don't know why you're the one complaining." Raditz huffs.  "You're not the one doing all of the walking! And if you ask him that one more time, I'm going to drop you." Ok so maybe, that wasn't the first time you've asked that question today. Or the second, or third, you're very bored. 

"Man Raditz." You roll your eyes, which are barely open at this point. "You sure complain--- a lot."

"You were just complaining." The long-haired Saiyan grumbles. 

"No, I simply asked Vegeta a question. There's a difference Raditz. I know it's hard for your feeble mind to understand." When you're sick, you tend to act, oh what's the word? Bitcher than normal. And that's saying a lot.

Raditz clenches his jaw. "Vegeta. I need a break from your sister."

"That's how I felt ninety percent of the time I was stuck in a room with you, Nappa, and Cado. And you didn't see me running to wine to Frieza about it."

Before Raditz can retort, your brother interjects. "That's enough! From both of you!"

Krillin, Gohan, and Goku have identical bewildered expressions on their faces. Krillin turns to Vegeta, lowering his voice to a whisper. He doesn't want to be the next victim of your wrath. "Do they always fight like this?" The human finds this perplexing. Back on Earth, the pair seemed inseparable. They appeared to be the Saiyan equivalent of what on Earth would be considered best friends.

Vegeta lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, but typically it's more playful in nature. When my sister is sick, she becomes even brattier than usual."

Vegeta's warning to both of you seems to have fallen on dead ears. Because your quarrel has not ceased, in fact, it has only elevated. "I will drop you, you royal brat!"

"I dare you to you second-class runt. I could still kick your ass even in my delirious state. I wouldn't even have to try very hard."

"I'm considering----"

Before Raditz can even get three words out, your bickering is once again interrupted, and not by the person you may think. "Enough!" Gohan shouts. You honestly forgot the others were here for a moment."If you two keep fighting like this, you're going to get all of us killed!" You and Raditz stare at the boy in shock. It's been a long time since the two of you have been yelled at by a child. The last time being when you were children yourselves. Vegeta hasn't changed much since childhood. He's been bossing you around and shouting at you since you were children, but I'm sure that's not very surprising. 

"Ya, and I can take Y/N---- if you need a break." Goku rubs the back of his neck, chuckling sheepishly. "Not that I want to hold Y/N or anything."

"No." You rapidly shake your head. "Raditz, I'm sorry. I'll be good now--- I promise."

A wicked grin spreads across Raditz's lips right before he grabs your hands with his larger ones. He loosens your grip around his neck, moving your body with ease, scooping you up into his arms. Every step Raditz takes toward Goku seems even more antagonizing slower than the last. Until he's standing directly in front of his younger brother. He elevates his arms slightly, dropping you right in front of an unsuspecting Goku.

Lucky for you, Goku has sharp reflexes. That allows the Saiyan to catch you easily. Raditz look's his brother dead in the eyes, his typical arrogant grin still on his lips. "She's your problem now, Kakarot." Raditz gazes downward to look at you. "Stop pouting. Maybe next time, you'll be nicer to good old Raditz."

A low growl echoes in the back of your throat as you glare daggers at the Saiyan standing before you. "Ya, or maybe next time, I'll rip out your tail and strangle you with it!" The only thing that's stopping you from lunging at Raditz is Goku's firm grip holding you in place.

Rather than arguing that the entire group has become accustomed to, the whole area has become dead silent. You're no longer pouting. Instead, you are glaring at the man who continues to carry you bridal style. You've never liked being held like this. It makes you feel weak like you have no control over your own body.

What makes you even more irritated, Is how Goku reacts to your death stare. He just grins at you. Does he just never get angry? What kind of Saiyan is he? It fills you with so much anger that someone as dopey as Kakarot has Saiyan blood flowing through his veins. 

You clench your fists. You just wanna punch Kakarot so badly. He just has such a punchable face. If you could take away his cheery personality, he'd actually be quite attractive. Wait--- what the hell are you thinking? Kakarot is stupid and way too friendly for you to ever think of him in that way.

 You move your fist up, finally giving in to your urges, attempting to punch the man holding you. Probably not your wisest moment, but your brain isn't functioning normally right now. Goku catches your hand with ease. His reflexes are unreal, or maybe this fever has you more sluggish than you believed. You'd prefer to think that it's the second option. He chuckles to himself. He's still not upset. What the hell is wrong with him? "Come on, Y/N. You gotta be quicker than that." He's challenging you. How Saiyan like of him. You seem to always be able to find specks of Saiyan nature in the cheerful man. And those are the aspects you actually like about him. 

Your eyes begin to once again feel heavy as your eyes droop shut, just before you fall asleep in the arms of your enemy. 

Twenty-Something Years Ago:

You're sitting on your bed, sitting crisscrossed, a book laying open on your lap. Since your father is currently off-planet, you can read all you want. You're enamored with your newest book. It's all about a topic referred to as diplomacy. It's fascinating and has many concepts that are entirely foreign to you, yet at the same time, some of these ideas are also familiar. 

As you read, your door slams open, but you pay the interruption almost no attention, not even bothering to look up from your book. Honestly, the unwelcome intrusion has you more angered than anything else. "God, Vegeta." You roll your eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Something's not right. When Vegeta usually bursts into your room, he's automatically shouting at you.

Out of pure curiosity, you look up from your book. However, standing at your door, you don't find Vegeta. A boy with a very similar appearance but with a much smaller stature stands in your door frame. He's out of breath, desperately huffing for air. "Tarble?" You furrow your brows at your brother, launching off your bed to get closer to him. "What's wrong?" You have this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your twin has never behaved in such a manner before. 

"Captain--- Captain Ginyu is here." Tarble is shaking, his eyes watering slightly.

You scowl ever so slightly. "But Ginyu's not scheduled to be on planet Vegeta any time soon." 

"It's--- It's a surprise visit. What do we do, Y/N?"

You contemplate for a moment before your features fill with alarm. "Tarble? Where's Vegeta?"

His lip quivers as he looks down at the floor. "He's with Captain Ginyu."

"Damn it." You mutter under your breath. Diplomacy is a skill you need right now. And Vegeta doesn't have a single quality that a diplomat possesses. Your elder brother is more likely to unnecessarily provoke the Captain, putting your entire race in hot water with the Frieza Force. 

You rush over to your bedside table, rummaging through the drawer. Once you have your scouter in your hand, you run back over to your brother. "Stay in here, and use this to channel our father. Let him know what's going on." You push past your twin, about to leave, before Tarble's voice calls out to you.

"Wait, Y/N!" You turn back to look at him. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go stop our older brother from doing something stupid. Everything will be fine, I promise. Just calm down and do as I said." And with that, you take off, praying that Vegeta hasn't already done something rash.

As you sprint down the halls of the palace, you run face-first into the torso of a large body. "Princess?"

You look up at the bald Saiyan, the one who's supposed to be at your brother's side at all times. Since the future king of planet Vegeta needs to be protected. "Nappa, Where is my brother?"

The imbecile scratches the back of his neck, contemplating much longer for your liking. "I'm not sure. I haven't seen the runt in quite some time. You should probably ask Vegeta." 

You scowl at the Saiyan. "Not Tarble, you fool! I'm asking you where Vegeta is!"

"Oh, Why didn't you just say so?" It's taking every ounce of restraint you have in your body to not viciously attack Nappa. "He's just outside of the palace." 

You run through Nappa, intentionally knocking the large Saiayn onto the floor. His stupidity lost you precious time. It was quite an amusing sight, though. A mere child, being able to take down one of your father's best warriors. 

You arrive outside of the palace, your eyes landing on your target. This is the first time you've ever seen Captain Ginyu. Sure, you've heard stories of the purple man. And much like your people, Ginyu is just as bloodthirsty and just as ruthless. Much to your surprise, the Captain doesn't have an army behind him. This was just before the Ginyu Force had formed. All Ginyu was at this point in time was a captain of one of Frieza's many armies. 

You walk over to them, now standing at your brother's side. "Captain Ginyu." You speak with your hands, an exaggerated smile appearing on your lips. "To what do we owe the honor?"

The man looks down at you, clearly analyzing you with his scouter. "Well, if this isn't a surprise. I think this is the first time I've had the pleasure of meeting you, Y/N." Ginyu extends his large hand out to you, causing Vegeta to feel a great deal of alarm. Your brother's body has gone tense with an apprehensive look on his face. But when your older brother looks over to you, there isn't even a glint of fear in your eyes. You're calm, almost as if one of Lord Frieza's deadliest warriors was not standing before you. You accept the Captain's hand, presenting him with a short but polite handshake. "Your father doesn't like showing you off much, does he?" 

You chuckle softly. "My father likes to hold his cards close to his chest. I'm sure a man like yourself is quite similar." Sucking up to Ginyu is not your favorite pastime, but it needs to be done. And every Saiyan on this planet knows your big brother is far too prideful to do it himself.

Ginyu looks between you and Vegeta carefully. For someone so highly regarded by Frieza, he sure isn't subtle. He's trying to read your facial expressions. Unfortunately for him, your father has raised you both much better than that. A poker face to you feels more natural than a genuine expression. "Speaking of your father, where is he right now?"

"He's of---"

You quickly cut Vegeta off. "He's in a meeting. That's why our father sent me out. He wanted you to know he sends his regards, but his hands are tied at the moment. He will be here at soon as possible. I hope my brother and I can suffice your needs in the meantime."

Captain Ginyu eyes you skeptically, tilting his head at you ever so slightly. "That sounds serious. I hope it's nothing too pressing."

"Of course not. It's nothing my father can't handle."

You're about to continue your schmoozing, but you're stopped by Vegeta aggressively yanking on your arm. "We need to talk-- in private."

You grimace at your brother's words. He just always has to make everything that much more difficult for you. You turn back to Ginyu, offering the man a cheerful smile. "Will you excuse us for a moment? We'll be right back."

Vegeta drags you around a corner, concealing you both from Ginyu's prying eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" He huffs at you in a whisper. "I had everything under control."

You snicker, crossing your arms. "You were just about to tell Ginyu that our father was off-planet. It sounds to me like I got here just in time to prevent you from making a grave mistake."

"I don't see why that matters."

"And that's the issue, Vegeta. Now we don't have time for this. Let's go." You turn back around, walking back over to Ginyu, Vegeta trailing not far behind. "I'd like to apologize for my brother's rudeness, Captain Ginyu." You shake your head but with a slight smirk across your lips. "All Saiyan men are the same, and my brother is no exception. They're incredibly thickheaded and quite savage. I'm convinced they don't even realize what brutes they are." You watch your brother ball his hands up into fists from beside you. It fills you with an immense feeling of joy knowing you're getting under Vegeta's skin for once. You turn back to Ginyu, plastering that disingenuous grin on your face. "Now, how about we give you a tour of our wonderful planet?"  

You and Vegeta have shown Ginyu around almost the entirety of your planet, and you must admit you're beginning to grow worried. Luckily you've managed to hold off any more questions about your father's whereabouts by charming him with various facts about planet Vegeta. But to be honest, you're not sure how much longer you can hold up this charade for. You've exhausted pretty much every idea that you've been able to come up with.

"Captain Ginyu!" Your father's brash voice invades your ears as you turn around to finally see the man you've been anxiously waiting for. You've never seen your father walk in such an urgent manner, and it's pretty funny watching your twin struggling to keep up with your father's pace. 

Your father places himself between you and Vegeta, ruffling your hair affectionately. You look up at him. "How'd your meeting go?"

Your father meets your gaze, catching onto your deception almost immediately. "It went very well. Thank you both for keeping Captain Ginyu company in my absence, but I think I can handle it from here." He directs his attention back onto Captain Ginyu. "Now, how about we discuss you're abrupt arrival somewhere more private."

The two men exit your field of view, leaving the three of you alone. Tarble, in his typical fashion, glues himself to your side. "What the hell was that?" Vegeta spits out with venom. "Where was your pride? You were basically groveling at his feet."

You furrow your brows at him. "I was doing what needed to be done. And if you think our father isn't currently doing the same thing, you're a bigger fool than I thought."

"I know our father is being more agreeable with him, but not at the cost of his pride."

"It's always about pride with you." You step closer to Vegeta, closing the distance between you. "Your pride today would have cost the loss of countless lives today, Vegeta."

"Then so be it. If there are Saiayn's that inadequate on our planet, we should probably just exterminate them now. It'll save us the hassle later on."

You snicker, shaking your head at Vegeta. "Some King you'll be." You turn to your twin. "Let's go, Tarble. I have no desire to be near our foolish brother right now."

The conversation between Captain Ginyu and your father was brief. It was a very anticlimactic ending to the naked eye. The briefness of this encounter only set off more alarm bells in King Vegeta's head. It was clear to the man that Ginyu's excuse for being on his planet was bullshit. He's just not quite sure what the captain's intentions were, but he sure as hell is going to find out.

As soon as Ginyu left planet Vegeta, he promptly set course for his next destination. He's headed straight to Lord Frieza to report his findings, and he's eager to do so.

 Ginyu arrives on the planet in record time, heading straight for the throne room. Ginyu kneels before Frieza, waiting for his boss to speak. "Captain Ginyu. You're sure back early. I trust you were able to gather enough information on the young prince."

Captain Ginyu nods enthusiastically. "Of course, Lord Frieza. The Price was exactly the same as the previous data we collected on him. He's powerful and quite intelligent for a Saiyan. Though, he did inherit that nasty temper from his father."

Frieza sighs. "How disappointing."

"But I did discover something that you may find interesting, Lord Frieza."

Frieza tilts his head at the man. He can't help but feel intrigued. "Go on." It's not that easy for him to find an advantage over those monkeys, so he'll take any information Ginyu can give him, no matter how minuscule. 

"Y/N--- King Vegeta's daughter piqued my interest greatly. She's not even close to as strong as her brother, but she's remarkably clever. She's very good with words, she knows how to manipulate people. I'd say she might even be better than King Vegeta himself."

"Now, that is fascinating. Good work, Ginyu. I'll look into the Princess's abilities more in-depth later. You're excused."

-

This is just something I felt the need to clarify: So in this chapter's flashback, Vegeta is around three, and Y/N and Tarble are about two. In my head, I picture children on planet Vegeta behaving like miniature adults. My idea is once they leave their chambers (the tanks they are raised in to get their basic Saiyan instincts under control), their minds are fully grown, but their physical growth is quite delayed. That's why they curse and stuff. I have a minuscule window of time to squash in all of my plot ideas. So this was the best way to do so.

[kaijurakunsobs]

Seeds

remember guys! you can ask me to tag them on future updates

Summary: The idea of a soulmate is well known, they will come to you one day, either as a lover or a friend. A single bond made of invisible thread is what will let you feel their emotions, joys and worries, to experience their pain and for them to feel yours.

But beware, for not all blessed unions are meant to be, if you were to hate and push them away, a slow death shall consume them and a garden will bloom within their chest, the flowers will fight and push to feel the sun from the outside, a poetic dead of a broken lover. A beautiful dead for your hollow existence.

You know that your mother was never a good person, or so you have been told.

Miranda meet her when she came from the city to the village, four months pregnant and with the false story of being “sick”, her sickness? She decided to cheat on her rich husband and she wanted to have you away from prying eyes and possibly abandon you here. Your birth giver was upfront about how "Having a bastard could ruin my lifestyle!", Mother Miranda smiled sweetly and had Alcina give your mother refugee and help during the birth, the Lady agreed and housed the woman.

On the night of your birth, Alcina held you in her arms, begging Miranda to let her keep you, but she denied. You were hers and hers alone.

As for your mother? Only Miranda knows what happened to her, but you suspect, that her body is buried somewhere in the forest, alone and forgotten, you couldn’t care any less.

Miranda was the one to raise you, to love you, the one who would be there when you were sick, to kiss your tears away when nightmares woke you up. She was the one to break your body apart and scream in our face how much of a failure you were, just like Alcina or Donna or those pesky lycans running amok outside, but within your failure, she saw minimal success, you were quick to learn how to care for her experiments, which were the signs of cadou rejection and how to treat it, at least, you could be useful until she placed you in the mansion the villagers were building for you.

You have seen so many people been brought to the lab, so many lives being taken for a selfish reason, that you grew numb, there was no anger or pain, you felt no grief when the test subjects saw you and begged for help, you did nothing for there was nothing inside you.

You are surprised when Miranda begins to show interest in a kid, you know he was brought here years ago and somehow had managed to survive the horrors your mother put him through. Interest grew into an obsession and then into pride, hope, you will forever remember how hard Miranda screamed when her golden child came out a failure too, cursing at the skies and asking why? He had been so close to being her perfect little boy and he turned out to be yet another fuck up.

But she doesn’t throw him away, her favoritism shows when she moved him from the medical area into a room in her private chambers, never allowing you to go close to him, slapping you and kicking up a storm whenever she saw you too close to his door, even if you were passing by. But you never resent him, you can’t hate him or her, all you can do is nod and go away.

But curiosity is something hard to get rid of, and so you waited for days almost a month until Mother left to meet up with Alcina, using the moment to sneak into his room. A beautiful room, compared to yours, he had a big bed with a canopy, the thick curtains prevent you from seeing him, it feels like a fairy tale when you part the curtain to peer inside.

Truly like a fairy tale...a beautiful boy lays there, his golden hair is going gray, probably out of stress. He has a couple of scars on his face and some new ones on his arms. You feel like reaching inside and kiss him to break the spell, but it feels...wrong, like if you could tarnish him even further by touching him, like if your mother would appear and toss you aside for laying one of your dirty hands on his skin. No matter how bad you wish to be his Knight and save him, the terror you feel over defying Mother Miranda’s orders makes you stay still.

And then, it happened.

It began as an agonizing stab in your chest, it made you trip backwards painfully slamming your head against the wall, gasping for air when the pain as a needle began to pierce through you slowly making its way to your heart, a pitiful sob left your mouth, rendering you useless while your body overcomes the initial discomfort. It takes all of your willpower to get straight and look up at the ceiling through your tears, the light it's blinding and it leaves you dizzy, almost ready to empty your stomach.

Karl Heisenberg, age eleven, lays on his luxurious-looking bed, his entire body shakes painfully, breaking through his mouth, and the fever that's racking his body is the only thing keeping him from noticing that, his soulmate is standing a couple of steps away from his bed.

But how do you even know this?

Because Miranda told you about the concept of someone blindingly loving you for all eternity, who would be your other half and the missing piece to your broken existence, Dimitrescu once said that those stories were silly little fantasies, that love should be won over and one should prove to be the right person for someone else and not just have it “hand it over”.

You used to dream of the day you would feel the connection between yourself and another person, of being able to experience their joy when their eyes fell on you. But this is far from what you wanted, what you always wished for! All you can feel is pain, radiating from so many places in your body, rendering you useless, overwhelmed with anger, grief, sorrow for “yourself”.

Everything quickly piles up, so consumed by what Karl is feeling that you don’t hear the tray that falls and the porcelain plates that shatter, you vaguely register the sting of Miranda slapping you and the distant sound of her screams.

She drags you out of the room and into the cold world outside her home, across the heartless forest and you wonder...if you might end up like your mother, buried under some tree to be forgotten. But Miranda keeps walking until she throws you at the feet of Lady Dimitrescu, speaking to the tall woman and leaving you under her care, forever.

When you were younger, you used to fear the Lady. She was imposing and so strong, a self-made matriarch, but she's so careful when helping you up and guiding you through her beautiful home, her hands are so kind when she helps you to undress and sit in the tub filled with warm water, racking her fingers through your messy hair...so this is what a mother truly is like?

She only leaves you alone when she goes to fetch anything you could wear, looking displeased when she hands you a maid's uniform "We must send for the seamstress, I cannot have you wearing those shabby clothes" that, for some reason gets you to smile.

Later, her movements are soft as she runs a brush through your hair, the fire makes the wood crack and explode, filling the room with a nice warmth, something you never lacked off but that never truly permeated your body.

"Y/N, care to explain why mother Miranda was so angry, earlier?" you hear the concern in her voice, a bit of worry hidden in a stern tone.

Alcina can see you shrink a bit, as if ashamed of what you had done “I saw the kid mother keeps in her chambers” it comes out like a whisper, scared of Miranda appearing at that moment to slap you again “I think he’s my soul mate, Alcina!”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckles lightly and smiles when you turn around to look at her ”Your soul mate, some dirty man-thing? Oh my sweet girl I hope it isn’t real and you were just revolted by the sight of a man!”

“But I felt his pain and his emotions...it was scary, but maybe he will love me!”

“Just because you can feel what he feels, doesn’t mean everything will be alright. That’s why those romances are so volatile, darling! There’s no real reason for them to work beyond being stubborn and tell yourself that it will work out” the lady is classy and gracious in her movements as she poured herself another glass of wine “That the other person at the end of your bond will fall to their knees the moment they see you, but in reality, they might resent your sole existence and end up killing you!”

“Killing me?” that comes as a surprise, you have never heard of this.

“Yes...a cruel and unjust dead” Alcina brings you to her lap letting one of her hands spread over your small chest with a sorrowful look on her face “Your lungs will get infested with flowers, a bouquet of throe will bloom within your body, each day the garden will grow and fight to see the sun beyond your mouth and it will rob you of all air and kill you in no time”

She sees you wonder about it, a million questions that you wish to ask, everything falling apart when her curious daughters come into the room, moved by the rumors some maids had shared about their mother adopting another child. All too eager to know their new sister.

After that day, the topic is never brought up.

You grow and learn everything under Alcina’s guidance, the woman is hellbent on making a lady out of you. She teaches you how to read and write, about math and how to sing, applauding when you show her the gift the cadou in your stomach gave you, Midas' touch.

Her daughters and your self-appointed sisters, all laugh and joke around you, treat you like if you were another human when you are no different from their mother, another failed creation, a remainder that Miranda was cursed to not have what she wants. But the love of your little family drowns those thoughts, leaving the happiness of your existence in a nice home and the ever-presence of pain and resentment in the back of your head.

As you grow you notice, each cut and wound that leaves a scar on your skin turns to gold when made by you, but looks as pale lines when made by Heisenberg. You can’t help but laugh when the idea of being a piece of pottery repaired via kintsugi pops in your head, and for a moment you ask yourself if Heisenberg also has golden scars to match yours?

You cry the day when you finally leave the castle, trying hard to convey your love for your mother and sisters with hugs and kisses, in low whispers, promises of coming over as much as you can. The Lady kisses your forehead and sends you off with some final words of advice.

"Never lower your head and always do your best, remember you have us and we would never let you fall"

You are eighteen when you become the miracle worker of the village, crafting medicines with alchemy, signing at the church when the congregation asks you to, turning anything into gold with your touch, smiling with grace, and claiming to have been blessed with a precious gift by Mother Miranda to help the poor and keep the village off absolute agony. In the end, everything tastes like vile and ash, the forced smiles and the sweet tone of your voice make you gang behind the long veil that covers your face.

The days when you sing at the church, are the only ones when you can feel all his hatred directed at you, each painful stab making your eyes tear, yet you keep on making the people happy with hymns crafted before you were even born. If you could let him feel how similar your anger for Miranda is, perhaps the pain in your chest would dissipate, but you can't because you are hollow.

Among the villagers you are Lady Y/N L/N, the golden touch child, you are adored and blindly loved, Miranda smiles radiantly whenever she hears nothing but good words from her cattle, how much they dote on you, ready to serve without a thought, the eagerness to work under you. You may have been a failed vessel but you are a success as a flycatcher, bringing the sheep down to the slaughterhouse to be sent to the other Lords.

On meeting day, the pain and emotions that you feel seem to amplify the closer you are to Heisenberg.

As you sit beside your adoptive mother, your smaller hand in hers, while Mother Miranda speaks and praises each one of her children, lingering a bit too much on her golden child. The pressure in your chest grows, it feels like when you submerge in the tub as if your lungs were being crushed under an invisible force, ready to cough and gasp for air.

Across from you, he sits, posture closed and annoyed beyond belief when Miranda asks him to stay a bit longer after the meeting is done, you feel relief when Lady Dimitrescu gets up, opting to ignore Heisenberg in favor of bringing you back to the castle for your scheduled visit.

You two aren't even halfway through your journey back when you notice you are missing something, a small gift for today's reunion, a bag of fine jasmine tea.

"Mother, I need to get back. It seems I misplaced something, you go ahead!"

There's no time for Alcina to respond before you volt back to the church, the soft lace of your veil beautifully flying behind your hurried steps, slowly dropping your speed the closer you get to the entrance of the building, from it you can see Miranda, she as shed her mask off and is touching Heisenberg's face the way you have seen brides or wives touch their husbands' faces.

A pulse of repugnance and despise make you stumble back, pressing your back against the outer wall, it feels like the first time you met him, it's blinding and leaves you disoriented for a second, a hand flies up to your mouth when a wave of nausea hits you. He's not only pissed, he feels filthy and is suppressing a murderous intent behind a mask of indifference.

The sensation grows and grows until it's crushing you. One look up and you see him standing before you, a hand caging you between him and pillar.

"What are you doing here, freak? The tall bitch sent you to spy on me? tell her to fuck off" this isn't the first time you hear his voice, but it feels like it, even if his words are filled with malice, they taste like bitter wine for you.

"NO!...I mean...no, Lord Heisenberg. I came back because I lost something, a small bag"

"So you are afraid the dog stole from you, are you calling me a thief?" your mouth opens to explain to him once more, but the burly man only growls and steps away "Think whatever you want, I can't care any less for whatever the scum thinks of me"

Later, in the solitude of your home, you will call yourself an idiot, asking yourself why you reached for his empty hand when he turned around ready to leave, why you didn't revealed who you were, why you didn't cried when the man slammed your body against the wall.

"DON'T YOU DARE TO TOUCH ME, BITCH!" Heisenberg's tobacco infused breath hits your face, the painful stab of hatred felt like if your body were being torn apart "I CAN'T STAND PEOPLE LIKE YOU, YOU MAKE SICK!"

This time, when he turns around to leave, you don't reach out, you stay there, gasping for hair and coughing like if you were drowning, a slick sensation in your throat makes you gag and cough harder than before, both of your hands are cupped over your mouth, scared at the idea of throwing up.

Thank God you don't.

The moment passes and your body calms down, but your eyes grow wide when you see what made you gag.

A single yellow carnation petal covered in spit rests between your hands.

-----

Yelow Carnation: rejection and disdain

tag list: @happygalaxymilkshake @mightybeeb @kittyb2000

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Huge shoutout to the lovely @perseusannabeth​ who obsess over Pride & Prejudice as much as me. After very politely threatening asking  me to write more of Nessian as P&P (I’m so glad Sarah made it canon that Nessian’s relationship is Darcy and Lizzie’s) she told me about THE lake scene in the BBC version. I watched all six episodes and fell in love, so I highly suggest you all watch it too.

Also, huge shoutout to @firebirdofscythia​ (I stole your Azriel line lmao) and the rest of the gc for being so supportive!! Enjoy

Pemberley’s Lake

Cassian was so tired it was a wonder he had not fallen from his horse, which made him realise that Azriel may have been partially right in telling him to take a break and go back to his state to rest.

Although he suspected that Azriel kicking him out of his office and practically throwing him in a carriage to Pemberley had more to do with the fact that Azriel had gotten sick of his mopey mood more than anything else.

“I shall never show my face in society again” Cassian had told a bored looking Azriel one afternoon, laying on his office’s floor as if it was the end of the world “I shall work until my eyes grow tired and my beard and hair are so long they reach the ground.”

“Stop with the theatrics brother. It is not becoming of you.” Azriel had answered as he shuffled a deck of cards.

“Theatrics!! Azriel for Cauldron’ sake I have no idea how I can keep on living after that refusal” he sighed from his place on the carpeted floor “There is not another woman alive who could hold my heart. It's lost forever. And now I shall live in regret and shame of not being enough for her.”

Azriel rolled his eyes so hard at his brother’s words it was a wonder they did not stay permanently like that.

“I shall grow old and drown my sorrows in the finest beers and wines, turning fat and bald. And after I have passed, my cursed ghost shall roam our country crying in despair over my terrible life”

That had been enough to make Azriel pack Cassian’s belongings and get his brother the fastest horse available.

“If it were not for the laws of this land” Azriel had mumbled after he had bid his brother farewell, wishing a good trip and forbidding him to appear in his office again until he had fixed that mood of his.

Breathing in the clear and fresh air of his home, Cassian was able to momentarily forget his troubled heart. But one look at the blue sky and he was reminded of the gray-blue eyes belonging to the lady who had made him, General Commander of the British Army, who had enough condecorations to fill his whole coat and who had made enemies tremble in fear when faced against him, wallow in self pity and misery.

Lady Nesta Archeron.

Her name alone was enough to make his chest tighten in longing.

Feyre’s oldest and most notorious sister, if not by her breathtaking beauty and intellect but by her ruthless and dismissive regard to the oposite sex. Whereas Feyre had surprised society by marrying before her older sisters  — and securing herself the best of matches of the season at that with his brother Rhysand, which was nothing but a Duke  — and Elain had enough suitors to fill a ballroom, the oldest Archeron did not seem inclined to marry at all. Oh she did catch the eyes of more than one gentleman  —  Cassian could vaguely reckon that she had had a long courting with Sir Thomas Mandray, although it had ended rather abruptly — but no one had been able to snare her heart.

That had been what had initially peaked his interest. He had briefly seen her at Rhysand’s wedding, attempting some small talk that was easily and diplomatically dismissed by her. He had then relentlessly engaged in conversation with her in any opportunity he could find, being it from the few occasions in which she frequented Feyre’ small reunions over tea or when he coincidentally met her during her daily walks around town to visit Lady Emerie, a modice whose popularity was raising tremendously after Feyre’s bridal trousseau and wedding dress were all designed by her.

It was not until Feyre’s first official gathering as Duchess that Cassian realised the depths of his feelings for the sharp eyed lady.

He had been watching the ballroom from the sidelines, trying to escape the mob of scary mamas who wanted to throw their daughters at him, a glass of champagne in his hand.

Rhysand and Feyre had already danced the opening song, so the floor was now free to hold more partners. Both Cassian and Azriel had danced once with Morrigan — Rhysand’s cousin and a dear friend of theirs — and Elain had enough names on her card that they’d have to wait a fortnight to dance with her. Nesta on the other hand…. she had refused all invitations, although one could not help but wonder why by the way she seemed to glow whenever a new song was played.

“Lady Archeron” Cassian had greeted, bowing deeply and throwing at her his best smile, one that usually had young ladies fainting and old ones blushing.

But not Nesta Archeron. No, she had only deigned to make a polite bow and look ahead.

“I could not help but take notice of how entranced by the music you appear to be, my Lady” he had offered her his hand “Would you do me the honour of allowing one dance?”

That had caught Nesta’s attention, and she turned towards him, her gray-blue eyes finally meeting his hazel ones.

“I do not think why I should. I am perfectly satisfied to watch from the sidelines” she raised a perfect manicured eyebrow, glancing in the corner where the mamas and their daughters were “I am sure many other young ladies would rather have my place”

Cassian knew she was lying. Knew she desperately wanted to dance, but something was holding her back.

“It is said that dancing is the best way to encourage affection. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable” he had nonchalantly said

“I beg your pardon” Nesta had exclaimed

“The lady has nothing to fear. I will not let you suffer ridicule because of your poor dancing” he had said in a patronizing tone, if only to see that fire in her eyes ignite.

And to see her accepting his offer with a murderous intent.

They had moved to the center of the ballroom, shocked faces all around them, both from the fact that Nesta was joining the dance floor and her partner being him of all gentlemen.

Cassian had never been proved more wrong once the first string from the violin was drawn and Nesta moved. He had been sure she knew how to dance, had only said those words to get a rise from her. But to see Nesta Archeron actually dancing… it was something straight out of a dream.

Cassian knew the waltz. His mother had insisted that all three sons have the same education, even though only Rhysand was set to inherit the duchy.

However, when paired with Nesta Archeron one could not be called nothing but a simple object to display her talents. Even the most notorious dancer would pale in comparison to her.

And Cauldron, she knew that. Nesta knew she was Terpsikhore, greek Muse of music, song and dance.

What a fool he had been, what a complete and utter fool he had made of himself. His only consolation was that some good had come out of his childish behaviour.

Nesta Archeron was dancing, and when she danced she threatened to bring empires to their knees, for her beauty got inhumanly enhanced, her delighted smile sending an arrow straight to his chest.

Cassian realised he had fallen hopelessly in love with Nesta Archeron. If he was to be true with himself, he had been for quite some time, since their first exchange of words when she had all but dismissed him as a pesky bug.

And as the last note was drawn, as the whole ballroom breathlessly took in Nesta, in complete awe of her, Cassian decided he was going to marry her.

Was going to propose to Nesta Archeron right at that moment.

Using the excuse of getting some fresh air after the tiring dance, he walked them to Rhysand’s extensive and well lit garden, quiet enough that they would not be interrupted but not so isolated as to risk her reputation.

They had walked only a few minutes in the garden when Cassian declared his feelings. He all but tripped with his words, hoping Nesta could see past his fool’s act.

She had not.

She had refused his hand in the most brutal way, her words so articulately poisoned that Cassian felt himself a young boy again, desperately trying to achieve perfection so his father would dare to spare him more than a passing glance. Would not regret having adopted him into his household and given him a home.

He had uttered an apology, saying how sorry he was that his feelings had caused her such pain and disgust, reigning his temper enough to walk her back to the ballroom.

Cassian left town the same night, and had stayed in his office and headquarters training the new milicia since then, burying himself with work until Azriel grew tired of his awful mood.

Sighing, Cassian brushed his horse’s neck, eyeing the lake.

Maybe a dive in the cold waters of Pemperley would help clear his mind.

~•~

Pemberley was, in Nesta’s opinion, the most beautiful state she had ever seen. Even more than her newly married sister’s dukedom.

“However this house’s lady is, she sure is happy” Emerie commented as the head maid showed them to the music room.

“As if someone could be unhappy with this much money” Gwyn whispered back, eyeing the grand piano.

Nesta was inclined to agree, even more after having seen the library. She could not help but envy the lady. Her husband must be a very cultured gentleman.

“May I show you the external grounds? I am sure the gentleman will find it quite delightful” the head maid said, looking at Balthazar, the only men among their group of four.

“I am most grateful for your hospitality” he answered, and they promptly moved outdoors.

Their party of four had been travelling through the countryside for almost two weeks. It was as much as a vacation for Emerie and Balthazar — with Emerie’s shop the season’s current sensation and Balthazar being her current business partner  — as a time out from the ton, which Gwyn — the most required opera singer of the season — had announced to be in desperately need of a vacation from.

As for Nesta, she had always wanted to travel, but as a single woman of marriageable age without a male relative to escort her, it would have been a nearly impossible feat to accomplish.

When Balthazar had offered to escort both her and her friends Nesta had wanted to shout in delight.

Secretly, she also wished to avoid a certain gentleman, one whose heart she had mercilessly and regretfully broken.

Nesta shook her head as she walked through the garden, distancing herself from her party to think and remember.

Remember how she had enjoyed dancing with Lord Cassian.

How her body had sung and heated where his skin touched hers.

How she had found herself smiling and agreeing to take a stroll with him, using the excuse of feeling overwhelmed in the crowded ballroom.

How his smile had faded once she tore at him, throwing every hateful word his way to refuse his proposal.

Nesta had not seen Cassian since her sister’s ball, but she did not want to risk an encounter.

That trip could not have been more well timed.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she did not notice her hair getting caught in a low tree branch, ruining her intricate updo.

“No one is around” she muttered to herself as she took off the pins holding it in place “A few minutes with my hair down will not hurt”

So Nesta took each pin off, massaging her scalp as she walked in the direction of the state’s lake, the sun shining over its  clear waters.

And that is when she spotted him.

Cassian.

Cassian was at the lake.

Cassian was shirtless, dripping wet by the lake’ shore.

Nesta knew she should turn around and forget what she was currently seeing.

But she could not take her eyes off of him.

Seeing a shirtless man in person was indeed a far cry from what her imagination conjured when reading romance novels.

Especially the way the water was running down Cassian’s tanned and hard torso, all the way down his pecs and stomach — was that a six pack or were her eyes playing tricks on her? — until it collided with his pants, which were hanging so low on his hips that Nesta could not help but feel a weird sensation low in her stomach.

Her legs stopped obeying her, and she swore her knees got weak when Cassian noticed he had company.

“Lady Archeron?” he exclaimed, as if he could not believe his eyes.

“Sir!” was all she could say, feeling her cheeks warming.

Cauldron what was wrong with her? It was just a body. A very nice, very wet muscled body and—

“What may you be doing here?” Nesta quickly inquired, cutting her errand thoughts.

“I am the owner” he simply answered

“Of the lake?”

She wanted to smack herself. How could have she blurted such a stupid and rude question?

“Yes, of the lake. And of Pemberley” he answered, amusement lacing his words.

“I didn’t know. The head maid said all the family was not home— we should not have presumed—”

“I returned without prior notice”

“Excuse me, are you and your sisters in good health?” Cassian added, and Nesta dared to think that he sounded a bit nervous.

“Yes. Yes they are. Thank you, sir” she managed to answer, her eyes firmly placed upon his face and not anywhere else.

“I am glad to hear that” he licked his lips and Nesta could not help but wonder if they would be cold due to the lake’s water or if Cassian’s unbothered face meant he was not cold at all.

Was she really inquiring of how his lips would feel against hers? Against her skin? If kissing Cassian would feel as dreamily as her novel's kiss appeared to be?

Nesta hated him.

Did she not?

“I had never seen you with your hair down”

Cassian’s words took her out of her reverie, and Nesta suddenly felt self conscious.

“Do excuse me for showing myself in front of you with such an unsightly appearance” she felt mortified. To have Cassian of all people seeing her like that, hair in complete disarray….

Nesta quickly turned around, fumbling with the hair pins in a vain and desperately attempt of redoing her hair.

“It’s beautiful” she heard Cassian saying in a breathless voice, and thanked the Cauldron her back was turned so he would not see how her face warmed considerably, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Let me help you” he quietly added, and she gasped at the proximity of wet, shirtless Cassian, who touched her hair softly.

“How come a gentleman such as you knows how to hairstyle a lady’s hair?” Nesta asked, feeling his warmth on her back, a tingly sensation between her legs when his fingers brushed her neck.

“I frequently helped my younger sister, Georgiana, fix her own hair in the occasions she played a little too far from what would be deemed proper for a young lady” she felt his hot breath against her neck as Cassian laughed “She favours outdoors activities such as horseback riding, although she’s quite accomplished in arts and music.”

“Your sister sounds lovely” Nesta said, turning to face him once she felt he was done fixing her hair.

“She is my brothers’ and mine whole world. There’s nothing we would not do for Georgiana”

Nesta felt her heart warming at his words, at his devotion and love towards his family. She wondered if he would do the same with his wife.

If he would have acted the same way towards her had she accepted his proposal.

Unbeknown to her, Cassian was imagining the same thing.

He was picturing how he could have helped her every morning with her hair if she had agreed to marry him. Instead, he would have to live with this one memory forever.

He was lost in her eyes, their bodies so close they were sharing breaths and Cassian was holding back by a sliver thread of self control to not hold her against him.

If it were not for the appearance of three people — Cassian supposed them to be Nesta’s companions — he very well could have done that.

“Excuse me” Cassian abruptly said, bowing deeply and leaving Nesta alone.

Although soon her friends joined her, Gywn and Emerie bombarding her with questions seeing her ruffled state.

Their party was getting ready to depart when Cassian appeared again, having ran inside to get changed and appropriate.

“Lady Nesta!” he called before she could get inside the carriage “Please allow me to apologise for not receiving you properly just now. You are not leaving?”

“We were, sir. We have already imposed too much” she said, spine straight and looking every bit the regal queen she was.

What he did not know was that was her way of maintaining a cool exterior and not blush remembering his naked figure.

“You are not displeased with Pemberley, are you?” Cassian asked, anxiously brushing his hair back.

“No. Not at all”

“And you approve of it?”

“Very much” Nesta said softly, a dreamy smile on her face as she remembered the library “A few would not approve”

“But your good opinion is rarely bestowed and therefore more worth earning” he said, and his smile was enough to make Nesta’s heart skip a beat.

Why was she feeling in such a way, she wondered. Why did her body feel hot and strange all over whenever Cassian was involved?

“Thank you. That is very kind of you”

“I shall not hold you back any longer” he said, helping her in the carriage, his calloused hand a stark contrast against her soft one “I will call on you and I hope you can introduce me to your companions. Perhaps we may go fishing tomorrow? My property is blessed with an abundance of them”

“We would be delighted to. Thank you, sir’

After the farewells were bid and Nesta’s carriage was only a distant dot in the horizon, Cassian got inside, smiling broadly at his head maid and butler.

“You are very chipper, sir'' the old woman said with a knowing smile, the butler agreeing with her. Their lord had been mopey for quite some time now, so it brought joy to their hearts to see his mood so high.

“I had a very good evening Mrs.Pots” he declared, thinking about how he should swim more frequently in the lake.

A few miles from Pemberley, Nesta stared at the scenery lost in thought, Cassian’s touch lingering in her hand all the way back to the inn.

•

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[theredsuzuran]

Yandere Muzan x Reader

I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, also for my crappy writing I hope It does not bore you lol. Slight mention of gore

It was the time of summer

A multitude of people hovering over one another in the vast space of the lively Asakusa city occupying the streets like tiny ants. Unfortunately it was same monotonous sight for kibutsuji Muzan progenitor of the morbid demon race, who seems to be roaming around uninterestingly looking for a suitable prey to hunt. The fleeting lives of mortals, their compassion, happiness, sorrow, pain held no value to him. They are pests who belong in the dirt or beneath his feet, inferior compare to a perfect being like himself. Nothing more than a tool that he won't hesitate to discard after his desires are fulfilled. All of a sudden his gaze felt upon a petite figure near a tailor shop, a large number of people gathering around her.

What's the matter, mister? Muzan inquired to a man next to him.

"if you are new definitely try her kimonos, now make way" the man said quickly as he rushed to the shop pushing all the people away. He was interested to know what the deal was about so he decided to stay for a while hoping it's worth the wait.

After a long delay muzan finally got the chance to view the women. As their eyes locked the dazzling city lights broader than the day itself felt dull in comparison for a moment, the once monochromatic world seems to change vibrantly with her luminous presence, As if goddess Amaterasu, the diety of sun herself have ascended from the heaven into the mortal realm. The demon lord stood there mesmerized by her breathtaking beauty, how can someone so close to perfection exist alongside those barbarians.

"How can I help you mister?" She questioned politely with her soft vocal. His endless thoughts were interrupted breaking the silence.

"Show me your kimonos"

And so his obsession started..

Days passed since his last encounter with the woman. He have come across numerous marvelous humans in everlasting lengthy life but never have his ruby eyes caught a glimpse of someone as alluring as her. The girl possesses an unique aura that differentiated her from the rest of the crowd, able to draw attention from the cold hearted creator of cannibalistic demons. At first muzan was just curious to know about that woman, possibly persuade her to become one of his underling because of the potentials she may carry. He frequently begun to visit her shop to but or sew different fabrics. Gaining basic information, like her name, likes and dislikes, etc. Her grandfather owned the tailor shop which sold finest quality garments from the beginning and were highly respected for their excellent tailoring. Continued by (y/n) at her family's will, who runs the shop with equal undying devotion.

She treated him with such kindness even though he was a ruthless demon not that she knew about it or let alone the existence of demons. The deepest corner of his dark heart illuminated with pure light whenever she was around and he came to the conclusion that she was the ray of sunshine he desires to perceive. Eversince he was cured from his fatal illness the only goal in his life was to conquer the sun which prevents him to achieve absolute perfection, in order to live an eternal and indestructible life or so he thought until that very day his eyes laid upon you. It would be stupid to think that demons are capable of experiencing love, concepts of feelings are completely foreign in their conciousness, it was more like obsession. His megalomania makes him believe he needs you no he wants you.

Alas, if only it was a fairytale. The king does not always gets what he desires and same goes for the demon lord when he finds out that his beloved darling already has a lover. As he witnessed the sight of you hugging your partner with passion. The way her eyes flutter infront of him when he caresses her cheeks making her turn away bashfully and how she hold his hand with her delicate ones while exchanging vows of love and loyalty towards each other made his blood boiled with fury. If anyone who can hold her fragile frame is none other but the demon lord himself yet there she was sharing intimacy with some filthy creature. His narcissistic self was put down with a lowlife, he cannot accept that his (y/n) was claimed someone else's. It was something he would never allow to happen.

"Kibutsuji san would you like to buy something today as well?" The women who now acknowledge his presence asked him cheerfully.

"Should I visit you later" a force smile graced on his pale features.

"Oh no, it's fine, let me introduce you to my fiancee" she said excitedly.

"Nice to meet you kibutsuji san" your fiancee said

"Pleasure to meet you as well" The demon scoffed under his breath but Kibutsuji was quite adamant he knew it was not hard to turn the tables anytime sooner as with a blink of an eye he can get rid of him by simply ordering his underlings without even hesitating to dirty his hands exclusive for his precious darling. But that was not what muzan was planning to do at all as his mind was engulfed with much sinister thoughts.

To insanity?

"You have been restless for a long time, what's wrong my child?" A man asked with a look of concern written all over his face looking straight at the figure of an anxious woman roaming around impatiently within the house.

"Its been a week father since he last wrote a letter to him" she mumbled softly disappointment painted across her features. The father could not help but laugh a little by her daughter's remark.

"Father please it is serious"

"I am sorry sweetheart but it might be that your fiancee is busy with wedding preparation" which made sense because the wedding would be taking place after three day and it was obvious that he was caught up with the arrangement. However there was a strange feeling inside her stomach which made her believe otherwise.

As the days passed the wedding day came close, with (y/n) still not receiving any message from her lover. Worried her to the core at this point all she wanted was to make sure of his safety as something constantly felt off. The guests came in one by one for the wedding ceremony but there was no sign of the groom.

It was getting unbearable for her to remain confined. Ignoring her father's request to stay inside she went outside in hope to check whether or not her lover was approaching but once again she was greeted with emptiness. Her eyes swell up with tears forming on both corners allowing her body to slowly hit the surface as she convinced herself that her lover will never come. The worst was yet to happen and before she could make any movement the ground beneath her feet started shaking and a shoji door opened consuming her into the darkness.

It was just the start of her miserable life under the demon's control.

"So you are finally awake", a sudden voice came echoing into her eyes as she slowly opened her eyes after regaining her consciousness. She moved her hands upwards in order to ease the headache only to find her hands tied up with shackles, a chilling sensation of overwhelming fear filled her entire senses as she remembered what happened prior.

"Where am I? Why am I chained?" Who are you?" she demanded furiously at the mysterious figure infront her which was now advancing at her direction from the dark corner of the dimly litted room.

"You are quite an impatient one?" The man gripped her chin roughly as her eyes protruded out with bewilderment.

"Can't even remember your daily customer?" A wicked smile curved across his countenance.

"K..Kibutsuji san" she parted her lips. Tears forming in her eyes once again. This made muzan even more irritated as he tightened his grip on her chin. (Y/n) whimpered with pain crying out loud.

"Your shouting won't help dear nobody apart from me can hear you scream" he said bluntly with his cold apathetic voice.

"Why?" (Y/n) lowered her head down holding his hand with her delicate ones trying her best to get a hold of him.

"Pardon?" Muzan inquired as he stared at your quivering form with his souless eyes there was no empathy in them or whatsoever although he felt pity. He cannot deny the fact that he was indeed attracted to her that's the reason why he put her into so much hassles.

"Where is my lover?" She asked sternly with her voice shaking a bit.

"Oh" muzan responded his hand still holding her chin tightly. This made her even more anxious she was unaware of the power he might possess and definitely she didn't had any intentions to risk her life.

"Why can't you humans move on and accept circumstances given before you?" it startled her as she cannot process what he meant.

"I don't.. u..understand" she said.

"Then you have to learn to accept me as your partner" muzan replied coldly (y/n) sat there looking at him with disbelief her heart and soul belonged to someone else and for a long time they have been together it's absolutely impossible to change the reality she was accustomed with just because some maniac wants to make her his partner.

"I can never" she murmured with disgust hinted in her voice. "I love him" throwing daggers in his direction not ready to submit her futile attempts of protest should pissed the demon lord even more but to her surprise she saw him smiling menacingly and in the corner of her eyes she saw the figure of her debilitate lover.

"Start from his fingers" muzan ordered one of his subordinate as they began chopping one of his finger making him scream in pain.

"No! please don't hurt him" trying to break free from the shackles she was tied with realizing it was fruitless she fell on the demon's knee begging with all the strength left within her in a last desperate attempt.

"You left me with no other choice, dear" he explained playing his sick games of manipulation on her. This was exactly what he needed to break her mind and she cannot help but rely on him pleading for his forgiveness feeding on his massive ego providing him ultimate satisfaction to witness the quivering frame of his darling clinging onto his knee in pure submission.

"Please I will do anything you say" she requested shaking like crazy.

"Anything?" Muzan questioned raising his eyebrow

"Yes" she replied without any hesitation.

"Be mine"

She already knew that he wanted this and she readily obliged in order to save her beloved, sacrificing her own life. Her only purpose was now to satisfy the demon lord, he was successful until the very end and it won't take long to make her completely his.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

⛽️ 🔥 FIRE AND GASOLINE 🔥⛽️ (PART 1?)

Prompt: Y/N’s life has changed drastically, precisely 10 years ago and all because of an adorable lunatic and two little maniacs. But what will happen when a divergency of thoughts leads Y/N and her lunatic to say some pretty harsh words, that they know they will regret it later?

Word count: Maybe too long?

Pairing: Jon Moxley (or even Dean Ambrose if that’s your liking) x Reader

Warnings: For now, just some cursing and angst

Notes: His time has finally arrived and I couldn’t be more nervous about it! This goes out to my sincerely unhealthy love for Jon Moxley and my mixed feelings about having kids (sounds like a good match right?). Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

A light smile formed on my lips as I watched through the kitchen sink window Atticus and Rosie play in the backyard as I did the dishes. I never thought that my life could change for the better with a 6 and 4 years old..and to think that I never thought of myself as the maternal type.

The plate I was rinsing off almost broke on the sink as my body jumped from fright, when a pair of hands embraced my hips

“Oh God, you almost gave me a heart attack! Are you crazy?”

“Not really, just a little lunatic..” He laughed “I’m sorry it wasn’t my intention to frighten you, but once I saw that ass kitten I lost my fucking mind! Just like I did 10 years ago...” His hands roamed on my hips until they reached my ass that he lightly slapped. “Did you miss me, cherry?” His lips glued on the nape of my neck

‘Cherry’ that lame ass nickname he gave me 10 years ago...and all because my cheeks go incredibly red when I blush or whenever the weather gets cold making a huge contrast against my pale skin.

“Of course I missed you! This house gets too boring without you in it” I lightly chuckled

“Is that the only reason why you missed me?” He grinds his bulge on my ass, as an insinuation to what he actually meant by that question

“Jon, the kids are outside...”

“I’m not doing anything, I’m just asking an innocent question kitten” He nibs my neck

I turn around to face him, placing my arms around his neck leaning in for a kiss. It started innocently, but Jon Moxley wouldn’t be Jon Moxley if things were kept innocent.

His hands reached the hem of my tank top, sliding in to meet my bare skin, he roams up til he finally founds what he was looking for.

“Fuck baby, I missed these” He whispers as he softly but firmly squeezes my breasts. As much as I would like to have some fun time with my husband it’s not ‘adult time’ yet, which meant the kids were still up. So no ‘dirty deeds’ for us just yet.

I took the little bit of sanity I still had and broke the kiss

“Jon, that’ll have to wait babe”

He sighs “C’mon Y/N is just a quickie kitten, the kids won’t even notice you’re not here..just a few pumps in, I swear!”

“The last time you wanted to give it just ‘a few pumps in’ I was birthing Rosie 9 months later” I reminded him

“So? We love each other, we’re an adult couple with a beautiful family and a lot of love to give” He nibs my bottom lip “What’s wrong with having another little maniac? I wouldn’t mind! We make some pretty fucking good looking kids, we should start practicing another one now” He vaguely said

Oh God not this again... This has been a pretty heated topic between Jon and I, he was always crazy about kids but I wasn’t very fondly of them. When I found out I was pregnant with Atticus I lost my mind! I wasn’t sure about the whole ‘mommy’ commitment for life thing, I didn’t even knew if I had one single bone of motherhood in me. That soon changed though when I first held Atticus on my arms, at that moment I knew my heart was sold to some stinky bum that would call me ‘mom’ for the rest of my life. Rosie was a surprise too, we haven’t even talked about the possibility of having another kid and I was already pregnant with her.

Right after that the baby factory was officially closed to me but not for Jon, he wanted at least two more kids and I didn’t, he had a bit of a trouble understanding that back then I didn’t even wanted my first one! I love my kids, I would die for them in a blink but that doesn’t mean that I eagerly look forward being pregnant every goddamn year.

Jon’s job doesn’t help either, with him constantly being on the road I do most of the raising when it comes to the kids. Of course he still is an amazing father in the short amount of time he is home but still, I’m the one who has to do the working, cooking, cleaning, give baths, put to bed, take to swimming classes, brazilian jiu-jitsu classes, dentist appointments, running to the emergency at 3am because one of them is suddenly sick while the other one sleeps at the emergency’s waiting room chair, wiping off their tears whenever daddy has to leave again..

“Jon, not this topic again, please” I beg

“What is wrong with me wanting to discuss having another baby with the woman that I love?”

“It’s not that simple Jon, I wish it was but is not” I said slightly angry

“Yes it is that simple Y/N! You’re the one who’s always trying to complicate things” He let go of my hips

Great! Now he’s angry too. That’s just what I needed!

“Jon look, I don’t want us to fight ok? You just got home and we all miss each other so why don’t we drop it for now huh?”

I tried to wave the white flag, but I should’ve known it wouldn’t work with Jon ‘The Stubborn’ Moxley

“Of course you want to drop it, it’s not of your interest is it? No it isn’t! You always do this! Whenever a subject doesn’t matter to you, you don’t wanna talk about it, you’re always so selfish! Always thinking about yourself, never once caring about me or what I want! Selfish as fuck!” He raised his voice

When people say that words can hurt more than actions they were right. If he had punched me in the face it wouldn’t hurt as much as the harshness of his words. To say that I am selfish? After everything I left behind just to be with him? That hurt! And instead of doing the adult thing and keep my mouth shut before I said something I knew I would regret it, I did the Y/N thing where I run my mouth with harsher words than he’s previous ones just so I could hurt him as much as he hurt me

“I’m selfish? Me? Oh you better place the mirror in front of your own face to find the definition for that word Jonathan! You are the one who gets to make your ‘wrestler life’ on the road, living like a single man with not even one worry on your mind while I get behind with two kids and all the shit that comes with the package! It’s easy for you to say it with your 15 minutes FaceTime parenting that you do! In the mean time I have to be the bad guy who has to always say no because glorious dad is on the road chasing his dream for when he gets home he will do all of his kids luxuries so he can try to compensate his absence with Barbie dolls and hot wheels cars! So yeah I’m the selfish one Jonathan, good thing you notice that” I regretted those words as soon as they fell from my lips.

Jon’s eyes briefly showed the hurt caused by them but he soon replaced that with rage and pride before lifting his head up to say

“And is thanks to glorious dad that you have this comfortable house, a nice car and a shit ton of food on your table sweetheart. Let’s be honest here Y/N, how are you supposed to support yourself and the kids with your shitty excuse for a salary? I wipe my ass with the pitiful money that you make” He huffed

I’ve never felt so humiliated in my life. Yes my paycheck was mere cents compared to his, but I worked hard for my money, I was proud to have my own money, to share the bills with him and was proud for not taking the easy path of relying on a rich man to support myself (like my dear old mother proudly did). So the fact that he took something that was so prideful to me and used to humiliate me, made me for once rethink all of our 10 years together and if it was worth it at all.

Tears threaten to fall from my eyes and Jon seemed to have realized what he just said as for he reached his hand to cup my cheek

“Kitten, I-“

“Don’t! Don’t touch me, I don’t want you anywhere near me” I said in between sobs

“Y/N please I-“

“Mommy, why are you crying?” I saw Rosie’s smile die on her lips once she saw me crying.

I heard Atticus’ fast footsteps coming by the french doors to stop by Rosie

“Yay, daddy’s home- Mommy are you ok? Why are you crying? Did you get hurt?” His small but smart baby blue eyes roamed my face and my body for any signs of physical hurt

“Yes stinker, mommy got hurt” I said trying to hold back my sobs

“Where? I can’t see anything” Those clever blue orbs that were a faithful copy of Jon’s roamed through me once more trying to find the injury

“Why don’t you guys come here and tell daddy how much you’ve missed him while mommy goes upstairs to clean up the scratch?”

They just nodded and ran towards Jon, who took them both in his arms

“Y/N” He started but I gave him a look that made him go silent.

I reached the safety of my bedroom, feeling the urgent need to run away. Run away from him, from this house, from this country. Taking with me only the clothes on my body and my two little beasties...the immature part of me yelled ‘do it, do it’ but the grownup in me knows I can’t do this. It’s not fair to the kids, they barely get to see their father whom they love and miss so much. It’s not fair to Jon either, he loves those kids more than he’s own life.

But right now I needed my safe place (or better, person), I needed to breath so I called her and when I received the ok on spending 3 days at her house I packed a small little bag with enough close for just those days, as I was zipping up the bag a faint knock came from the bedroom door soon after being followed by it opening.

“Kitten, can we talk- What are you doing?” He asked in urgency as he bursts into the bedroom approaching me.

“I’m gonna go to Nancy’s” I vaguely said looking at anywhere but him

“Nance? Your sister?”

“She’s the only Nancy I know, so yeah..”

“But why? I just got home, I wanna be together Y/N”

“It’s just for 3 days Jon..you’ll be with the kids, they need you and they miss you” My voice is a faint whisper

“But I need and miss you too! I want you here! How am I supposed to enjoy my family if it’s not complete? I’m sure we can figure it out whatever it is that happened earlier” He grabbed my shoulders turning me to face him and cupped my cheeks, tilting my head up to look me in the eyes.

“Y/N, kitten, I know that I’ve said some pretty harsh things to you earlier. I’ve been stressed out. It’s all my fault, I’m so sorry cherry. Please forgive me baby” He pressed his forehead with mine

That was typical Jon, always pulling the guilt towards himself, he has a hard time understanding that he was not always the only cause of a disagreement.

“Jon, we both said some stupid things ok? This is not all on you, love” I released myself from him, if he continued this close I wouldn’t resist, and right now I need to think.

“Yes it is Y/N. Me and my stupid fucking mouth, not you. You’re perfect kitten”

I scoffed “Trust me, I am not”

“Yes you are! Look at who I am now because of you, I stopped doing drugs, I’m not a drinking mess anymore, I eagerly look forward coming come because I know that the three pieces of my heart are waiting for me, look at what I’ve achieved, what you gave me, how you gave up everything and everybody to be with me”

Oh yeah,that.. my ‘high society family’ was not happy at all when they met Jon, they said that we were a very dangerous combination of fire and gasoline, that we would never be happy. I had two options they said, either them or him. I hated my family and loved Jon so it was a simple math. I left my house and all of the luxury behind to live with him in his ridiculously small one bedroom old apartment. The only person that I still talked to was Nancy my older and just as rebel sister, who gave everybody the middle finger and left the not so humble abode of my family never speaking with them again. So it made sense that the two rebellious black sheeps would become their own family, mine was Nancy and I was hers.

“Jon I need some time to think, we need it ok? Please, we both need to digest what we’ve said to each other. It wasn’t just a simple ‘fuck off’ we’ve said some pretty bad stuff so let’s just process this ok?” I beg

“Are you gonna leave me forever? Please don’t tell me you’ll want divorce because of this...I won’t handle it kitten” His voice was strangled by tears

“Jon-” I was thankfully interrupted by Rosie’s and Atticus’ screams of joy on the hallway as they ran towards our bedroom

“Mommy, daddy the movie is about to start c’mon” Atticus says as he jumps from excitement. They have been wanting to watch Moana for a while now, but only when daddy got home so he could watch it too.

“We’re going buddy” Jon fastly said

“Actually” I begin “Only daddy will watch the movie with you” It crushed my heart to see the disappointment on their faces

“Why?” Rosie asks

“Because auntie Nancy called and mommy’s gonna need to go and help her”

“Is auntie Nana in trouble?” Now it was Atticus turn to ask

“No stinker, she just need momma’s help with something, it’s nothing bad I promise”

“Can you go to Nancy’s after the movie?” Jon hopefully asks, he knows that the longer I stay the less likely it will be for me to leave.

The kids gasped at their daddy’s amazingly smart idea.

“Please mommy, please!” The kids started to beg as they kneeled down to make their begging really serious.

Jon kneeled down too, by my side. I looked at him confused and he just said

“Yeah mommy, please stay” He placed his hands on my hips “Please kitten, don’t leave me” He whispered

And now I have 3 pairs of incredibly beautiful and pleading baby blue eyes staring at me waiting for my answer.

What am I supposed to do?...

To be continued (?)

What do you think? Should this story continue? Would you like to see what will Y/N do? What would you do? Please let me know your thoughts, they are so very important to me and help me with my writing 💕🥰

[mdawritings]

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 9

I.IX

Masterlist

Warnings: None

Song(s): "Fool's Gold" by One Direction

"Katie," Your heart is still racing from the kiss and the surprise of your friend coming up behind you. "I thought you said you were going to shower and go to bed." It’s a stupid comment. Obviously, she didn’t just go straight to bed.

"What is Professor Hotchner doing outside of our apartment?" Katie crosses her arms across her chest, "No actually, more importantly, what is Professor Hotchner doing kissing you?"

"What?" Just like that, your IQ falls about 80 points. Play dumb. That’s definitely the best choice in this situation.

"Y/N… please tell me you are not seeing our professor." Katie brings a hand up to hold her temples.

"Okay, I’m not seeing our professor," You attempt to push past her and she shoots a hand out to grab your wrist, pulling you back to stand in front of her. You hope your long drawn-out sigh is enough to warn her that you’re really not in the mood for a scolding or beratement or even to chat right now. It’s been a long week. "Please Katie just…"

"Just what? Let it go? Pretend I didn’t see it?" Katie’s eyes search your face but you roll your eyes, "No, we’re talking about this."

"I’m exhausted and I want to sleep," You groan, cursing the fact that your drunken buzz is quickly fading, "This doesn’t have to be a big thing."

"It’s already a big thing." She argues. You open your mouth to protest, to fight her off, but if you know anything about Katie, it’s that when she’s dead set on something, there’s no excuse, no possible escape. So you let out a sigh and move away from her to lean against the kitchen island, a small distance away from her. Where do you begin? How do you explain it all to her?

"How long has this been going on?" Katie’s body language loosens up and she pulls the towel from around her neck, drying her hair lightly as she looks over at you.

So you tell her. You tell her everything. Well, not every single detail of the sex, but you tell her how many times you’ve seen him, you tell her about the late night booty call, you tell her about the kiss with Charlie, you tell her about the weekend at his apartment. You tell her about blowing him off all week. You don’t tell her about him walking you home, you don’t tell her about the conversation the two of you just had outside your building. You leave out the fights with him. You leave out the way he kicked you on your ass this past weekend.

Katie shakes her head, and the words that you already know are coming fall from her lips, "Y/n, you can’t… you cannot keep seeing him."

Your eyes look away from her piercing, searching gaze. Deep down, you know she’s right. This isn’t a relationship and it’s not just a fling anymore. The way you felt all week being separated from him? It made you sick to your stomach. You couldn’t focus on anything, your mind always wandering back to him. Not just wandering back to the sex, but to his voice, his hands, his eyes, his laugh, his smile. The way his brows furrow deeply when he’s reading. That damned hand thing he does. The way he subtly bites at the corner of his lips when concentrating. "I really… I really like spending time with him. He understands me, you know?"

"I know it might feel that way but at the end of the day he’s using you." She argues, "It’s not right. He’s using the power he has over you as a professor to get you in bed."

You don’t come with anything to say back so Katie keeps going, "If you guys get caught… he could lose his job. Your reputation will be ruined. All that you’ve worked hard for, all this work to establish a name for yourself…"

"Don’t you think I fucking realize all that?" Your frustration and exhaustion bubble up into anger. You’re not a child, and right now Katie is lecturing you like one. "It’s not just sex anymore," You bite back, "It’s companionship. He listens to me. He indulges my mind. We enjoy each other's company. And he doesn’t treat me like a child, unlike you and all of our other friends." The last part isn’t really true. Katie, for the most part, treats you with just as much respect as anyone else her age. The rest of your friends baby you. It’s evident in their behavior, the way they tease you and laugh at you. The nicknames, ‘kid genius’ or just ‘kid.’

You’re tired of being treated like a child. You’re plenty capable of making your own decisions. This thing with Hotch, it feels like the first fully independent decision you’ve made. It’s not what your parents expect from you, it’s not what your friends want from you, it’s entirely what you want. And that complete freedom of choice? It feels fantastic.

"Oh my god." Katie’s voice has fallen to hush. Her hand comes to her mouth, covering it slightly.

You stutter out a quick apology, "I’m sorry, Katie that’s not what I meant…"

"Oh my god," She repeats, taking a few steps closer to you, "Oh my god. You’re… falling for him."

Your face flushes hot with embarrassment. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, suppressing the small smile threatening to ruin your angry, frustrated facade. "No," You look up into her kind eyes, "Maybe. I don’t know."

"Oh, Einstein," She chuckles sadly. You can sense she feels bad for you. She pities you, like you’re some sad lovesick child, chasing after some unattainable ideal love that will never be requited, but she didn’t hear what Hotch said outside. She didn’t see the way the two of you looked at each other at the front door. She didn’t hear how soft his voice got when he apologized. He wouldn’t act this way if he didn’t care for you. You’re all I need.

He wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it. He wouldn’t. That would be… cruel of him, to play with you like that. And as much as he’s mistreated you, you know he’s not capable of such disrespect and manipulation.

"You know I’m always in your corner." Katie leans against the counter next to you.

"Then why do you make me feel like a teenager who snuck out past curfew?" You try to crack a joke, lighten the mood, pull yourself out of your own thoughts.

"I’m not angry with you." She rubs your shoulder comfortingly.

"It sure feels that way," You scoff and look down, picking at your nail beds.

"If anything I’m angry with him," She almost laughs, reaching for your hand, preventing you from tearing at the skin any longer. She wraps her hand around yours supportively, "He’s your superior and it’s wrong to use you like this," You shoot her a glare and she sighs, "If he’s using you."

"I don’t know what to think, Katie," You feel that pit in your stomach that makes you queasy, "Whenever I’m with him I feel like the most important woman in the entire world. I make him laugh. How could anyone possibly fake all of that?"

"Maybe he’s not," She wraps her other arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close to rest your head on her shoulder, "You’re so beautiful, inside and out, Y/N… it’s practically impossible for him to avoid falling for you too."

Her words give a small boost of happiness. It’s amazing to know she’s always on your side, but the doubts you have about Hotch don’t seem to be disappearing. He’s never made any real commitment to you. He barely shows any sense of care for you besides when you blow him off. But again, you decide that it all feels too authentic to be manipulation. He’s too enchanted by you, and you, with him. What you feel for him is real. He must feel the same… he has to.

————

You knock lightly on Hotch’s office door, but receive no response. You glance around the hallways to make sure that no student or professor sees you entering his office. It would be quite hard to explain why Hotch would let you go into his office if he wasn’t there. You push open the door, surprised to see Hotch hunched over at his desk, writing furiously with one hand, the other hand holding his forehead.

Your entrance into the office doesn’t even seem to draw his attention. "Aaron?" You call. He looks up at you and you can see his eyebrows plastered into that signature frown of his. "Sorry I didn’t mean to barge in. I can go if you-"

"No come in," He waves you in and turns his attention back down to his work.

"Are you okay?" You ask tentatively. You sit in the chair directly across from his desk, placing your bag on the floor and cozying up a little. You feel comfortable in his office. It’s always warm and the room smells like him. You’ve run your eyes over the hundreds of books on the walls, reading the spines, memorizing every single title that he has in his collection, making mental notes of ones that are missing that you think would pad out his collection properly.

"I just… my third-year ethical issues students are all struggling quite a bit and it’s a difficult class I’ll admit but I can’t help but feel like…" He sighs and shakes his head. "Like it’s due to my failings as a professor and mentor."

You find yourself at a loss for words. You can tell he’s stressed. His hand is tangled in his hair and it’s all messed up and fluffy. His grip on the pen is tight, his knuckles practically going white as he writes notes rapidly. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable… so normal and human. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I’m just trying to restructure the lectures and the curriculum. I’ve lightened the workload because I know all of them are scrounging for internships and job opportunities or are already juggling an internship but they’re just not getting it." He drops his pen, which causes a little bit of ink to spray out from the fountain pen nib and onto his notes. He holds his head in his hands, covering his entire face with his palms before rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up.

You bite your lip and put your things down, standing up to walk around and sit against the edge of the desk to the right of him. "Can I take a look?" You hold out your hand.

"How could you help me with this?" He looks up from his hands at you.

"Well, seeing as I am a student, I can probably help figure out what is and isn’t working for them, which weeks you’re assigning too much work for them to actually get done." You smirk and he leans back in his chair. There’s a small moment before a smile starts to spread across his face.

He places a warm hand on your knee, rubbing it gently. It’s not an inherently sexual gesture, it’s comfortable. He leaves his hand there, thumb tracing circles on your thigh absentmindedly, "I don’t think you’re a good judge of the average student. There’s no such thing as too much work to get done for you."

You roll your eyes, "Aaron will you stop being so stubborn and just hand me the damn syllabus." You stick out your hand and he reluctantly sits up, handing over the sheet scribbled with his notes. "You’re lucky I’ve learned to decode your horrendous handwriting."

"It’s not that awful." He mutters under his breath and leans forward to look over the sheet while it’s in your hands.

"I don’t even know what that says," You point to an especially atrocious line, "Seriously, Aaron, are you trying to make it harder for your students on purpose?"

"You seem to do okay," He teases, giving your thigh a light squeeze.

You chuckle, reaching across him for a pen, making marks all over the pages."Yeah well I work about three times as much as anyone else here."

"What are you doing?"Hotch leans further forward to get a better look at what you’re writing but you lean away from him so you can work on it uninterrupted, "Wait, you can’t just cross that out they need to—" He reaches out a hand, ready to snatch the syllabus from your clutches. You hold your arm fully extended out away from him, like you’re keeping a toy from a little child before placing a soft quick kiss on his lips.

"Now stop arguing and let me work," You smirk and pull away. Despite cutting him off, a small grin remains on his face. You sit there for a few minutes longer, crossing off items on the syllabus, rearranging the schedule, and writing down suggestions. Hotch resigns himself to the fact that you will not be relinquishing your hold on the paper until you’ve made it exactly perfect. He knows you too well, you won’t stop until you think you’ve nailed it.

After a few minutes, you hand the paper back to him, thoroughly satisfied with all the changes you’ve made. He takes it from you, eyes scanning through the notes, flipping through the pages at a steady pace, "Hm," He lets out a small hum and you lean forward, attempting to spot which line he’s reading, "These are… really good changes." He nods and turns to look up at you, your face much closer now that you’ve leaned into him.

"Really?" Your heart flutters as his eyes flit down to your lips and back to your eyes, "I mean… of course they are," You tease, putting on a fake air of arrogance, but deep down you’re heart swells with pride that he’s impressed by your help.

He runs a hand along your jaw, hand wrapping around your throat, but it’s not tight or dominant like usual. His fingers are light on your skin and he just pulls you enough to bring your lips to his for a slow, sensual kiss. Your eyes flutter shut and you run your fingers up to knot in his hair, tugging on the roots. You’re the first to pull away from the kiss, "Now get back to work." You point down at the stack of essays on his desk.

"But it’s Wednesday," He's practically pouting up at you, "I set aside this time to be with you." His hand travels back a little, cupping your face, thumb rubbing your cheek, his fingers at the base of your neck.

"You obviously have a lot to get done. Don’t worry about it," You give a reassuring nod and get up, digging around in your bag to take out a book. You hold it up, "I have ways to entertain myself."

"You can come back later in the afternoon once I’m done all of this," He starts but you hold up your hand to stop him, settling back onto the edge of his desk.

"Get your work done. I don’t mind just sitting here with you," You give a warm smile before opening your novel and diving right in. He takes that as a sign that it’s okay to go ahead and continue working, and you both seem to fall into a rhythm, the only sound coming from the occasional creak and groan of the heater working overtime to combat the cold wintery weather outside.

He rests his right hand on your thigh again, every once in a while giving it a small squeeze, while his fingers trail over your skin. He uses his other hand to continue grading papers. It’s a comforting position. You sit there, fully focused on the book in your hand, but enjoy the comfort of his warm hands on your skin.

You both sit there in silence for nearly half an hour before you come to the end of your book closing it with a small sigh. You glance at the walls of titles and stand up from the desk, drawing Hotch’s attention away from his work. You hold your book close to your chest, slowly strolling past the shelves and shelves of books.

"Take any one you want." He gestures with his head in the direction of the shelves.

"Really?" You’re giddy with excitement, just itching to take the first 10 titles down and dive into reading them. You step closer, taking a moment to read every single spine and cover carefully.

"Mhm," Hotch mumbles under his breath, attempting to look at his work but his eyes are stuck on you as you slowly drift from shelf to shelf, eyes wide, trying to take in every single title.

"You know my birthday is next Friday," You hum softly and run your fingers over the spines of the books on the shelf. You turn and lean back against them, wagging your eyebrows playfully at him, "What are you going to get me?"

"I-" Hotch seems at a loss for words, his smile faltering slightly, "I’m not really great at giving gifts. I don’t ever feel like I know the person well enough to give them a meaningful gift."

"I’m teasing you," You laugh at his slight stuttering and discomfort, "I’m not the type to make a big fuss about my birthday."

"It’s your 21st. That’s a big deal," He nods, eliciting a small scoff and roll of your eyes.

You turn back around and pull a book from the shelf, turning through the pages quickly, "Is it? I mean I’ve always thought of age as something so irrelevant." You put the book up onto the shelf. Your eyes travel up to the higher shelves. The books higher up are probably some of the ones he doesn’t reach for as often, but you find yourself spotting some of your favorites up on the higher shelf. You stand up on your toes, reaching for his copy of Dracula.

"Why’s that?" He stands up from his chair and comes up behind you, reaching up over your shoulder to grab the book and hand it to you. You look over your shoulder at him with a small smile.

"I just don’t think age is necessarily a marker of any sense of intelligence, maturity, sophistication, experience," You walk around the office as you read through the pages, ignoring the written words, focusing all your energy on understanding his annotations. The pages are littered with highlights and notes on every free space on the page. The grin on your face grows more as you read it.

"Sorry, I forget you’re such a kid genius sometimes," Hotch teases you playfully.

You barely hear what he’s saying, taking a moment to absorb the thoughts present in the margins of the novel, "You really don’t like this book, huh?" You close it shut in one hand and look over at him. "You missed some of the most important parts."

"Oh did I?" He chuckles and leans against the shelves, crossing his arms.

"Yes! You missed the complexities of the point of view changes and the greater metaphors for sexuliaty and female sexual prowess." You protest angrily. Your love for literature is coming out at this moment and his smug, arrogant smirk, that you know so well, demonstrates he’s not going to be receptive to your opinion and will continue to believe his ideas are correct.

"I understand those arguments and see their evidence in the literature but it’s taking such a modern view of a Victorian novel. That’s not what the implications are to the Victorian reader o in the historical context of the book," He shrugs, "It’s such a reach."

"But isn’t that the only way to enjoy literature? That’s the only way a work can be timeless. Can you take into a modern context and still enjoy it while deriving some greater conclusions about the world around you?" You tut at him disapprovingly, "Yeah, I'm not taking literature advice from someone who doesn’t even own a copy of The Great Gatsby."

"Classics are overrated." His words are like a knife to your heart. Your jaw falls slack with shock and you can sense him resisting the urge to make a dirty joke.

You shake your head firmly,"First of all, some classics are overrated, but some are worthy of the title of classic. Second, The Great Gatsby is my favorite novel of all time so I will simply not tolerate any criticism. I cannot believe you don’t have it."

"I never understood the infatuation. The writing seems so… simplistic, the imagery is predictable and cliched."

You whirl around to look at him, placing a hand over your chest, feigning hurt feelings, "First of all, I am now taking this as a personal attack," He chuckles and shakes his head at your dramatics, "And the simplistic writing is what makes it so amazing. It seems so simple on the surface, and you can take the cliched, surface level metaphors and imagery and derive some bored, tired conclusions about Fitzgerald’s opinion of the American Dream. But there's so much more!" You shake your head, struggling to reach to put the book back up on the shelf.

"Okay, okay," He walks around to take the book from your hands placing it back in its rightful position, "I get it. My literature analyses are not good enough for you."

As he turns his attention back to you, you maintain his eye contact giving him a small shrug of your shoulders,"If you spend all your energy attempting to divide everything into strict categories or make stark divisions. You miss the important subtleties of the world around you." His brows furrow as he attempts to understand your point.

"I just think your law background has forced you into taking on a black and white mindset." You continue, "But the beauty in life is in the grays." He pauses for a second, letting the smile grow wider on his face. He leans forward, again connecting his lips with yours. His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer to him, pressing your soft warm body against his. You glance at the time, knowing that you’re going to be late for your next class, but you continue to kiss Hotch. You don’t want this moment to end.

Everything feels so perfect. You’re so happy, so content. But nothing this good can last forever.

Chapter 10: I.X →

[yanderecandystore]

ok hear me out; the twins becoming infatuated with their postman. Like they’re only around once a week to deliver bills or personal letters but the twins r still head over heels for them nontheless. bonus points if the s/o is either oblivious or obviously doesn’t reciprocate

I loved this idea so much yet I was like: Oh no wait I have to write it, how do I write it?!?!

Thanks for requesting boo! I have to apologise for not only taking so long but for me procrastinating on answering you. I've been having a difficult time, that's all, thanks for your patience!

TW/Tags: pretty short // parents are just as crazy as their children, always remember that // I tried writing this so many times ;-; none of them ended on my liking // overprotective/helicopter parents // twins being spoiled children that don't know how to do jackshit- // errors here and there because again, this was kinda hard to come up with especially with bad internet connection and sicknesses-

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

The Package [Yandere!Bully OC x Reader - Headcanon]:

→ Adrien Coldwell:

Adrien is a mommy's boy, even if his sister is considered the popular one, he recognizes that his mother loves doing what he asks her. Of course, if he asks kindly enough-

And by that I mean he makes himself sound like a good kid despite the fact he is a grown ass man trying to get his mother to buy him stuff.

It's nothing much in his opinion, he just wanted to get a new shirt he found online from a YouTuber he likes. He may not be the most affectionate person out there yet he really wanted to support that guy, they're so cool to him…

Now, you might be wondering- How the fuck does rich people with their own careers ask money/gifts from their parents? Let me tell you how, they're grounded and won't be able to use their own money for at least a month or two (oh, the horror!? They can't waste money on stupid shit for a month-)

Both twins got themselves grounded for being childish and getting less than preferable grades, so neither of them could actually pay for their addiction to buy new things constantly.

And that's kinda where you fit on this story, dearest. You were accustomed to delivering mail around this rich neighborhood yet you never really interacted with the people around out of fear that maybe that one celebrity you find extremely sweet turns out to be a dick head. Not everyone that is rich or famous is bad, it's just that you don't want to risk it at all, yet you still wave and smile while going about your day.

It's really interesting how you never really interacted or seen a Coldwell in person. So many packages and mails to deliver them, yet every single time you looked around, you only found a couple of people that worked for them tending their garden, washing their cars, etc. This was the first time you actually saw one of them in person, you were kinda surprised to see the man in front of you.

You recognized him instantly, Adrien Coldwell, a male fashion model that is kinda popular with your friend group for some reason. I mean- You see the appeal, but, eh, you don't really care enough to actually see stuff about him, yet you do know some rumours of his generally antisocial behavior, which by the looks of it seems to be true.

He… Uhn, just stands there looking at you, like he is waiting for something or…. Or he doesn't know what to do. Although his expression is a literal straight face with wide eyes, you can see small glimpses of internalized panic written over his features. You waved at him to see if he would react by coming closer and picking the package from your hands.

However he got a little surprised by your waving, so he just waved back while coming closer awkwardly, as if he needed more clues from you so he could know what to do.

"- …. You seem really socially awkward." You ended up blurting out without thinking how embarrassed you could have made him feel.

"- I uhn-" He wasn't really sure what to say, he never really took the mail inside, normally he would wait for others to bring it in, yet his mother has only allowed him to buy something if he himself would be the one to actually sign it up, bring it inside and unpack it without someone else being payed to do so. Adrien bad-mouths people on a daily basis to their faces, yet he feels a little awkward whenever he is faced with taking responsibility for once and he feels embarrassed to come across as a child that was too overly protected to actually learn how to do certain things on their own.

You felt pity on him, thinking that maybe he was just socially anxious about interacting with people, so you taught him how the process goes and how simple it is. You were accustomed with teaching people this so you weren't really taken back by it.

While you were teaching him how easy the process was, he was thinking that you were just another peasant thinking too highly of themselves to be teaching him all this simple stuff he should be aware of by now. He felt ashamed of having to be taught by someone of his own age how to do something so trivial yet the way he decided to hide his embarrassment was by dismissing you as a commoner in his head. He didn't openly say that, but he did sign his name angrily, like a bratty child.

You said bye while you decided that you had spent way too much time on only one location, you needed to move quickly to your next delivery. He didn't say "bye" because while he was feeling overly emotional about such a common situation, he accidentally said "hi" instead.

You didn't hear what he said, yet he felt even more pathetic so he clutched his package and went back inside the mansion stomping his way in.

Even after that incident, he kept thinking about it over and over again. As if there was something about it that he needed to address so he could actually move on with his life. Yes, this is pure pettiness mixed with anxiety, but he would still justify it as "well, they're the ones that should know their place-".

Adrien decided that for that day onward he would keep pestering you whenever he could find you placing their bills inside their mailbox. It was surprisingly harder than he expected to know exactly when you come over to deliver the bills and packages, especially since your department insisted on substituting you with some random ass person from time to time.

You could say that, well…. The days where he was left waiting for you without you ever coming over were the worst ones. He did feel lonely in those days.

You never really reacted to his mean blunt comments, were you even aware of his intentions at all? Maybe you didn't want to react purposely, or maybe you only recognised that attitude as his way to communicate since you never stopped thinking he was really shy and awkward. You did hear rumours of him being pretty blunt and "too honest", so you treated it as a normal thing.

Your naivety was both alluring and repulsive. How can someone be so dumb and cute and wear THAT uniform-

Maybe… Maybe he is starting to catch a crush on you?? On YOU, the mailman. A commoner, a simpleton-

This is- Terrible! This is outrageous yet- I guess he simply can't help it, it feels right to have a crush on you, yet it feels so wrong to not know anything about you. But what can he do to know you more? Start working as a postman for the sake of having some time with you? Hah! Never-

But, hey… Maybe his parents could pull some strings, right? Maybe it would cost him a lot of effort, but something tells him that his mother would gladly help him find a way to bloom these feelings more appropriately.

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

Alexandra is a daddy's girl, even if she is considered the most popular of the two, she doesn't have that good of a relationship with her mother, but her father on the other hand will give her anything she asks if she makes a pouty pitiful face-

Her next big project involved getting sparkly rollerblades she found online. Yes, they were pretty tacky, but hey! Give her some slack! They were beautiful to her, okay??

Now, you might be wondering- How the fuck does rich people with their own careers ask money/gifts from their parents? Let me tell you how, they're grounded and won't be able to use their own money for at least a month or two (oh, the horror!? They can't waste money on stupid shit for a month-)

Both twins got themselves grounded for being childish and getting less than preferable grades, so neither of them could actually pay for their addiction to buy new things constantly.

And that's kinda where you fit on this story, dearest. You were accustomed to delivering mail around this rich neighborhood yet you never really interacted with the people around out of fear that maybe that one celebrity you find extremely sweet turns out to be a dick head. Not everyone that is rich or famous is bad, it's just that you don't want to risk it at all, yet you still wave and smile while going about your day.

It's really interesting how you never really interacted or seen a Coldwell in person. So many packages and mails to deliver them, yet every single time you looked around, you only found a couple of people that worked for them tending their garden, washing their cars, etc. This was the first time you actually saw one of them, you were kinda surprised to see the woman in front of you.

You do know about the rumours surrounding the Coldwells about them being pretty outspoken and being extremely social people, yet you couldn't really confirm that fact since the woman standing in your presence hasn't even looked at you directly ever since you came closer to her home.

She did wave at you, although the smile she gave you was kinda fake. As if she was holding her laughter or something, you aren't so sure of what she could be laughing about though.

You instantly recognized her, miss Alexandra Coldwell, the female fashion model that you heard about because your friends are a bunch of simps- I mean, you do see why, but- I don't know, you're not here to drool over her, you're here to give her the package in your hands.

Alexandra kept tapping her foot and looking at each side as if she was waiting for someone while you stayed still, awkwardly waiting for her to catch the fact you're standing there.

It takes her some time to acknowledge your presence and remember exactly why she was standing there in the first place. She was kinda hoping someone else would pick her mail for her, so that's why she kept waiting for so long. Alexandra forgot her dad made her promise she would be the one to take it inside instead of calling a "servant" to pick it for her, oops.

"- Oh! Oh…." She suddenly realized that not only and her been waiting someone to instantly help her, but she was now being obligated to interact with you, a peasant-

"- Oh well…. Uhn, hi- How are you today?" She asked while trying her best to sound confident and not at all bothered by that ugly ass uniform your department gave you-

You interpreted that maybe she wasn't expecting you? Eh, either way you gave her the package after asking her to sign her name, and then went back to your usual day.

Although it was the most normal and simplest of interactions she ever had, Alexandra was dumbfounded by how simple it was, it's funny how a person as old as her still struggles with these common things due to either social anxiety or not the greatest parenting growling up.

Still, she felt kinda humiliated to be taught how to do such a simple task as taking the mail by someone wearing a ugly uniform-

Even after that incident, she kept thinking about it over and over again. As if there was something about it that she needed to address so she could actually move on with her life. Yes, this is pure pettiness mixed with anxiety, but she would still justify it as "well, they're the ones that should know their place-".

Alexandra decided that for that day onward she would keep pestering you whenever she could find you placing their bills inside their mailbox. It was surprisingly harder than she expected to know exactly when you come over to deliver the bills and packages, especially since your department insisted on substituting you with some random ass person from time to time.

You could say that, well…. The days where she was left waiting for you without you ever coming over were the worst ones. She did feel lonely in those days.

You've never really caught her spiteful tone, have you? You either ignored it or treated as Alexandra's way of joking with you, since you've heard she has a tendency to do that a lot.

Your naivety was both alluring and repulsive. How can someone be so dumb and cute and wear THAT uniform-

Maybe… Maybe she is starting to catch a crush on you?? On YOU, the mailman. A commoner, a simpleton-

Maybe… Maybe she is starting to catch a crush on you?? On YOU, the mailman. A commoner, a simpleton-

This is- Terrible! This is outrageous yet- I guess she simply can't help it, it feels right to have a crush on you, yet it feels so wrong to not know anything about you. But what can she do to know you more? Start working as a postman for the sake of having some time with you? Hah! Never-

But, hey… Maybe her parents could pull some strings, right? Maybe it would cost her a lot of effort, but something tells her that her father would gladly help her find a way to bloom these feelings more appropriately.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[theromanticrationalist]

For All Mankind's season 2 finale was just incredible. In many ways, I have been really impressed by this show and how they have been able to incorporate space exploration into the intimate threads of human history. The Moon, space, leaving the confines of the Earth's atmosphere, exploring the great beyond - all become catalysts for each of the individual characters - representing each of their own struggles. Because, as I believe, reaching out towards the stars ultimately becomes about reaching within the human soul - looking outward, is looking inward, and vice versa. The two are inexplicably entwined, and this show does a pretty good job at showing this.

More fan girl thoughts below the cut. . .

- Gordo & Tracy Stevens

I feel like this is best exemplified in Gordo and Tracy's story. I don't have time to outline it all at the moment, but the Moon becomes the stage upon which their hearts are made bare. It is so rare to see a redemption story, and a redemption story of a marriage no less, showcased with such power. I will forever be blown away by this story. *lays down* - *cries* - *cries a lot*

- Margo & Sergei

UH ... YES PLEASE.

A forbidden Soviet Era romance??? Yes yes yes yes yes. I need this! THANK YOU FOR ALL MANKIND. The both of them are my absolute favorite! Just. Everything about them. How they are the same and how they are able to communicate almost as if they are reading each other's minds, and the way Sergei looks at her, and the way Margo blushes and can't even look at him in the eyes, and just . . . *incoherent fangirl screeching*

I really feel like Margo knows the door that she opened. I hope the writers don't make her dumb in the next season - just some love struck nerd girl. Margo is naïve and lost in her own world sometimes, but she isn't stupid. I feel like after Sergei's call, she was realizing the full ramifications of what she had done and what this could mean for her and Sergei's complicated relationship. (Not to mention her standing with her own government and country!)

So, you know what I want to see?? I want to see Margo and Sergei play the most expertly played game of espionage ever orchestrated! I want to see them give false information to one another, and they'll personally always get offended by it even though they both know this isn't personal at all - they'll twist and turn words, double - triple! - meanings - are they enemies? Are they friends? Are they lovers? Do they even know? Maybe! Maybe not! How can they hope to be anything more when they are serving countries that are always on the brink of World War III? And yet!!!

And always Sergei will have stars in his eyes when he looks at her, whenever she does something impossibly clever, and Margo will always wear his favorite color and be speechless around him whenever he is trying to be charming.

I LOVE THEM. FOR ALL MANKIND YOU GAVE THIS TO ME NOW DON'T RUIN IT FOR ME

And let me just say that once again Margot is basically just me. OF COURSE she would fall for the enemy! Totally on brand. I get you, girl! I get you so hard!

<holding up my fingers like the Ben Wyatt meme> It's about the "it's complicated..."

- Danielle Poole

QUEEN. MY QUEEN. I knew she would come through and pull off the Soyuz mission with flying colors! And Danielle & Stepan have my heart! I knew Stepan wouldn't be able to resist her in the end, and that he would have his little Soviet heart melted in no time! 🥰🥰🥰 That whole moment of them defying their governments and choosing peace and brotherhood was just so beautiful. (I was pretty much an emotional mess the entire finale...) Then the gut punching realization that many American's didn't even get to see the historical moment live on TV because they were in the Fall Out shelters. Uuuuuugh. This show is SO good at building the emotional drama of this unfolding history. It feels so real! But it also feels very much like it could part of the Star Trek universe. They are exploring similar utopian and humanistic themes, and so I think I am going to make it my headcanon that our alternate history is part of the Prime timeline. It's official. I have declared it.

Speaking of Star Trek, though, I was tearing up when Danielle was quoting Star Trek. OF COURSE she is a Trekkie - OF COURSE. She is perfect without flaw. The most precious angel! I just wish she had more screen time this season, but I loved her story this season regardless!

- Thomas Paine

I never got to properly mourn the passing of Paine! I was pretty upset that he died, and just when he was becoming such an awesome character! (HE LOVED SPACE THE ENTIRE TIME OMG MY HEART.) However, I realized he was like the Agent Coulson of this show. That awesome side character with an unusual and unexpected quirky personality whose death becomes a catalyst for the bigger picture! Ellen is doing an incredible job within his place, though, and I love what it is building for her character (even if her story is SO SAD). At any rate, Thomas Paine shall be missed!

- Molly Cobb

Molly Cobb is BOSS. Her heroic moment on the Moon was such an amazing highlight for this season for me. But I am loving how they have taken her character in an unexpected direction, down a harder and more humbling road. It is heartbreaking, but such a deeply human story. Her taking her plane and trying to escape from the Earth's atmosphere was like the most DRAMATIC AF moment (omg this show), but also, I felt that too. I also loved her and Wayne's struggle through what Molly is having to face. They're marriage is so strong - perfectly challenging one another and carrying one another through life. I love them! This is going to be painful watching what Molly will have to go through, though.

- Karen

I do want to say a few more words about this whole debacle. The fact that the writers completely obliterated the Baldwin family is something I will not forgive them for, and it was very poor choice on their part, most especially how it came about. To me, the Baldwins have always been the anchor point of the show, but now they are all just kind of pathetic, as the trust in their marriage is broken (for no reason) and all so that Karen can go "find herself".

Now, it has always been a part of Karen's character arc that she needs to find her own identity. She gave herself to her family, putting herself last, and that isn't a good thing. Although we should be reminded that a woman serving her family as a wife and mother is NOT shameful, and so there was literally no reason for the writers to deconstruct this when it was actually a beautiful thing. Things aren't black and white. Karen can be both proud as a dutiful wife and mother AND have existential dread over her own identity as person. BOTH realities can be true and exist together! You don't need to destroy the one to have the other! It's called N U A N C E. Something American tv writers utterly lack in their writing now a days.

Regardless of all this, though, and the disturbing, messed up nature of Karen's affair with Danny - I am sick and tired of how often shows and movies depict a woman's exploration of identity through her sexuality. I find it to be really offensive. As if liberating a woman's spirit means turning her into a horny sex fiend. Sexuality is but one dimension of a woman's identity, one dimension amongst a thousand. To reduce her down to this basic and crude physical dimension, as if somehow sleeping around, having affairs, masturbating, etc, unlocks her deeper self, is really insulting to women as human beings. Being an independent, confident woman comes from a deeper place of the mind, heart, and spirit that embodies her entire person as a holistic being. We are more than the sum of our parts! Please, writers, for the love of God, stop making us into rutting animals!

Suggestion: American writers, creators, directors, just go read Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. She'll wipe the floor with your pitiful displays of female independence. I have never seen any modern writer even come close to what Bronte was able to to achieve with her masterpiece. She was able to truly showcase the power, dignity, and grace of a woman's spirit flawlessly - showing how freedom and independence does not mean free to do whatever you want with whomever you want defying all traditions, religion, expectations, and principles - but is a state and quality of mind, that even in the most dire and unbearable of circumstances, your spirit remains immutable. A woman's strength is compassion in the face of adversity, serenity in the face of devastation, and strength in the face of oppression. THAT is true womanhood.

[restmyheadatnightcontent]

thats why i’ll always stay around

another fic in this verse 

yennskier | 1127 words | cw: very minor illness, mention of nightmares

_____________

She wakes up just as the door opens. She blinks her eyes open blearily to see Ciri standing in the doorway, and through the darkness she can just make out the faint trace of tear tracks running down the girls cheeks. Pushing herself up, she reaches and turns on the lamp, filling the room with a gentle golden light. She can see better now, and can see Ciri’s red-rimmed eyes as she hovers in the doorway, nervously fiddling with the hem of her T-shirt.

“Everything alright sweetheart?” she asks, but Ciri doesn’t answer, she just looks down.

“Was it a bad dream?” she prompts, and Ciri nods confirming her suspicions. It’s been a while since she’s had a nightmare but they always make a return. Normally, Yen manages to hear her before she wakes up and is able to soothe her, but she’s been run down with a bad cold this week and she was out like a light as soon as her head hit the pillow. And Jaskier is out at a gig tonight, otherwise he was sure to have gone to her. It must have been a bad one, for her to come to Yen’s room like this. Normally, in the rare instances she wakes from a nightmare alone, she tries to calm herself as best she can before trying to go back to sleep, not wanting to bother anyone and saying that she doesn’t need anyone’s help.

Yen just lifts the blankets and the girl is running and throwing herself into the bed, before coming to lie next to her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Ciri shakes her head and burrows further into Yen’s side.

“Do you want to just try and sleep?”

“Can you read something?” Ciri asks, voice muffled from where her face is buried in Yennefers shirt.

“Of course,” she answers and picks up the book from the bedside table. It’s one of her favourites and had become one of Ciri’s too – both of them enjoying the story about the girl who got to fall down a rabbit hole and escape the world, just for a while. She always goes back to it whenever she feels ill, seeking the comfort and familiarity of the words and Jaskier has been reading it to her for the last few nights. She’d claimed that her head hurt too much to read the words but actually she enjoys listening to him, enjoys listening to the lilt in his voice and finds it calms her so she can sleep.

“’The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said was, “Why is a raven like a writing-desk ?’” she began and it wasn’t long before Ciri was snoring gently next to her, and eventually she drifts off to sleep too, the book slipping from her hand.

*

She wakes again to the sound of the door opening, only this time it is obviously morning, the sun peeking through the curtains and she can hear the birds chirping in the distance. Ciri is still asleep next to her, mouth wide open, drooling slightly onto the pillow,  and with her hair falling across her face. Yennefer gently brushes a strand from her cheek, before glancing up at the door which had awoken her. Jaskier enters the room and begins searching for something, clearly not aware that she’s awake, as he is moving in a way that suggests he is trying not to make any noise. Which doesn’t work because Jaskier is Jaskier and is incapable of doing anything quietly.

“Morning,” she says, immediately wincing at the rasp in her voice. He jumps, turning and smiling at her.

“Hello.” He comes to perch on the bed next to her, and raises his hand to forehead. “Feeling any better today?”

“No. Still feel like shit,” she whines, swatting his hand away. It is always worse whenever she wakes up, with a dry throat and her nose all blocked and she hates it. She also hates how vulnerable she gets when she’s ill, hating having to accept any kind of help. But it is easier with Jaskier. He doesn’t seem to pity her when he brings her soup and medicine, as he picks up her used tissues from the floor by the bed, as he wraps her up in blankets before making them all dinner. He hasn’t treated her any differently, and though he has been coddling her it hasn’t felt like coddling. It hasn’t felt patronising like it normally does when someone tries to help her when she is sick. He has just been there, and done whatever needed to be done without drawing attention to it, without making a fuss. Because as annoying and dramatic as he can be, he cares. He cares about her, even when she thinks that she doesn’t need it, doesn’t deserve it – he is there. And its what she loves about him.

“Yeah, you look like shit,” he says, with a crooked smile, the one he wears when he thinks he’s being funny. The bastard. She just smacks his arm, the only part of him she can reach without having to move, but he just catches her hand and entwines their fingers.

“How was the gig?”

“It was alright. Missed my number one fan though.”

“Oh, was Valdo busy?” she asks dryly, letting out a breathless laugh as Jaskier pokes her in the ribs.

“Horrible woman. See if I offer to make you coffee now.”

“You will make me coffee because you want coffee too.”

“True. You’ve got me there,” he sighs.

Quietness settles over them for a moment, Ciri’s soft snores the only sound in the room, and they just sit, Jaskiers fingers gently stroking over her knuckles.

“I don’t remember you coming to bed last night.”

“I slept on the sofa. Got back late and didn’t want to disturb you two.” He gestures towards the sleeping girl. “Bad one last night?”

She nods. “Yeah. But she was alright once she came in here.”

“Pancakes for breakfast kind of morning, do you think?”

“You just want pancakes.”

“Maybe I do. But you want them too, don’t deny it.”

God she wanted pancakes. She hadn’t had much of an appetite with her cold, but right now pancakes sounded absolutely brilliant.

“Can we have chocolate chip ones?” a sleepy voice next to her says, and they both turn to look at Ciri who is blinking awake.

“Of course we can, Princess. I’ll go start them now.” Jaskier answers, and he kisses them both on the forehead before heading out and down to the kitchen.

“You doing okay?” Yen asks, running her hand through Ciri’s hair.

“Yeah,” she mumbes, snuggling back into Yen’s side. “Always am ‘cause I’m with you.”

[perseusannabeth]

My Hunger Knows No Bounds - Part 2

Okay, so this is based off a prompt I got, asking me for an Elriel labour fic. I kinda had to end up splitting it in two, because I'm still writing, and this would get super long otherwise. Part 3 is coming soon, I promise! Also I've not properly proof read this so I'm sorry for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1

Read on AO3

Ever since Elain had knocked on his door to ask for some food, they had set up a routine. They hadn't told anyone else about it, especially not their siblings. Cauldron knew that they were all a bunch of busybodies, and would ruin a perfectly good thing with their meddling. Azriel could already imagine his brothers with their knowing looks and raised eyebrows, and he didn’t want to imagine what Elain’s sisters would say or do, especially not Nesta. He knew that they meant well, but there was no way that he was ready for his brothers to start talking about the possibility of him being in a relationship again, and he knew that was exactly what Cass and Rhys would start talking about if they heard about the set up he had with Elain. 

Plus, with Cassian and his big mouth, there's no way Mor and Ciara wouldn't find out. While he knew that he could get Mor off his back easily enough (just tell her about Amren's secret relationship), Ciara was a whole other ball game. Unfortunately, with three older brothers, Ciara had figured out very early on in life how to get what she wanted. With their big age gap, the girl was able to get pretty much anything she wanted and get away with murder. He didn't always regret it, but when she turned to use her big fake innocent eyes on him, he wished he was less of a sucker for her games. He even knew she was playing him, and still fell for it.    

Truth be told, he wasn't quite sure exactly what his relationship with Elain was. They spent some time together with their family, but that wasn't the same. They spent many evenings together, eating and laughing and talking, just the two of them. Azriel had made quite a few recipes from the blue cookbook his mother had given him. He knew without a doubt that if it hadn't been for Elain, he wouldn't have touched it after the one time he had cooked the biriyani. He found it was quite nice to cook for Elain and to have a secret time that was just for the three of them. The baby was so active that you could never forget about the third person (not quite) in the room.

Elain was so easy to talk to. That wasn't something that he had ever found in a person, not his brothers, not his mother, not Rhys' mum, but somehow, Elain made even quiet, stoic Azriel want to talk. He couldn't quite believe it, but they spent most of their time alone just talking about anything, and he was more than capable of carrying a conversation, and participated in it just as much as Elain did, something which he had never been able to do before, and was very proud of.  

They would talk about so many different things, some topics light and fun, some topics dark and heavy. Azriel found himself wanting to share things with Elain and looked forward to these evenings often. To this day, not even his brothers knew the full story about what had happened to his hands. They had pieced things together from what Rhys' mother had said, and when Azriel used to wake up with nightmares, and his aversion to fire. With Elain, he had been the one to bring it up. She had made it so easy to talk about, he hadn't even noticed the phantom pains he got when he usually thought about what had happened, because she had been holding his hands. He hadn't noticed the tears streaming down his face either until Elain had wiped them off his face so heartbreakingly gentle. He had felt at peace when he had told her what had happened like a weight had been lifted off his chest and he could finally breathe.  

Perhaps it was the fact that he knew Elain would never judge or pity him because her situation made people judge and pity her. She knew how dirty and horrible the judgement and pity made him feel, how he would do anything to not feel like it was his fault it had happened.  

Azriel hadn't wanted to pry about the father of the baby. He knew that Elain had recently moved to the building and that she lived alone. Her sisters would go with her for any baby-related appointments, and Nesta was Elain's birthing partner, much to everyone but Cassian's amusement. Nesta had been so horrified by the birthing video, that she had refused to have sex with Cassian for a week. Both Azriel and Elain had been shocked that they had even lasted a week without jumping each other. 

Elain had opened up slightly about Graysen, her ex-fiancé who had left her because his family had put pressure onto him to marry someone more suitable. Azriel couldn’t help but get angry at Graysen whenever he thought about it, because how could someone not have the backbone to stand up for the woman he loved to his family. His father did sound like a piece of work, and Azriel was glad that Elain wouldn’t have to deal with that, but he pitied Graysen for being stupid enough to give in to the pressure and give Elain and the baby up. How this man, who claimed he still loved Elain, could give her and his child up was beyond Azriel, but he was almost selfishly glad of it because, without that, he would never have his nights with Elain. 

Social interactions often left Azriel feeling tired and drained, even if the interactions were with his family and friends. It wasn't something that happened all the time, and his family and close friends were very good at reading the signs of him hitting his limit, depending on how sober they are. A drunken Cassian, for example, cannot read any signs of anything, and even if you tell him outright, he still might not understand. A drunken Cassian should never be let into your bedroom at 3 am because he 'missed his favourite broody brother'. It is a scam, and he will cling to you like a koala clings to a tree.  

Azriel never felt drained when he spent time with Elain. It wasn't that he felt energised after being with her, he was pretty sure that was a myth. But he did feel calm and at peace after spending time together, happy even. Although his family and friends could make him feel like that, it was different with Elain. She made him feel like that every time they were together. He couldn't quite explain it, but he knew that their dinners were some of the most relaxing evenings he'd had in a while.  

He wasn't ashamed to admit that he got excited whenever Elain text him to ask if he was cooking for her. Today was no different. When he had seen that she had texted him, he instantly felt the corners of his mouth start to rise. It had been just over a month of knowing Elain, and he had never said no to her. He was pretty sure that it was illegal to say no to a pregnant woman anyway, but he had never been tempted. Elain was just so sweet, how could anyone say no to her? 

When Elain had texted him today, he had been having a boring day. Cassian was off work because Nesta was doing some fancy pants lawyer stuff today, and Cassian was a good boyfriend who was going with her to support her. With Cassian gone, Azriel had nobody to laugh at for being an idiot. Rhys was in meetings all day, so he couldn't laugh at either of his brothers for being love-struck fools who smiled dopily at their phones every time their significant others text them. Azriel tried to tell himself he wasn't jealous of what his brothers had.  

Azriel had had to get his head down and do some paperwork which had been mind-numbingly boring, and the reason why he had been putting it off for so long. He had text Mor to see if she was around to save him from being bored, but she apparently had to do inductions for some newbies. Ugh. He hated how everyone in his family had responsibilities.  

Just after lunch which he took with Nuala and Cerridwen, where they had a catch up (no Mor it isn't gossiping), he got a text from Elain, asking him if he would cook for her again. Azriel couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, even though Nuala and Cerridwen gave him some funny looks for it. Thankfully, they had been friends with Azriel long enough when to comment on something or not. He had no illusions that they would let it go, they would simply bring it up at a time when he had to answer. They were just so good at getting information out of people.  

He spent the rest of the afternoon thinking of which other recipes he could cook for Elain, and what ingredients he had in the house. He probably wouldn't need to go shopping, but he didn't mind if he did need a thing or two. These days, however, he tended to keep his apartment well-stocked in case he needed to cook for Elain at short notice.  

Elain had said she had been eating cup-a-soup for the past 2 days and would be for lunch too because, although it was just water and those gross dried ‘vegetables’, that was what she seemed to be craving. He needed to feed her something nutritional because he knew those stupid powered 'soups' had no nutritional value. Over the past month, he had been googling what was good for the baby, as well as making sure that it didn't make Elain feel sick. If he was going to cook for Elain, he might as well make sure that it’s good for her.   

He decided that he would also make dessert for Elain, which was something he didn't do as often when Elain had dinner with him, mostly because she would usually want to have something that she had baked. He and Elain had figured out the perfect system so that she didn't feel guilty about eating his food, since there was no way he would let her give him money for cooking, or even for ingredients. He would cook the main meal, and Elain would bring over whatever she had baked. Today, however, Azriel had told Elain he would cook desert himself today. He wanted to surprise her with a dessert from his mother's cookbook. Elain had been enjoying milk flavoured things a lot lately, drinking it at any given moment, even having it with her meals, so Azriel had decided to combine her two favourite pregnancy cravings, sugary things and milk, making a dessert called rasmilai which was a sugary, milky dessert with strange little dough balls in it.  

It had been one of Azriel's favourite deserts as a child, and had been craving it himself lately, but had decided to make it for Elain. He knew if not for her, he would have never made it because he was too lazy for that, but making it for Elain was so rewarding that he enjoyed cooking for her. The way Elain’s face lit up was exactly the same as the first time she had eaten his cooking. He wasn’t quite sure what it did to him when she was so happy at the sight of food in front of her, only that it made his chest feel weird and tight. 

Azriel decided to finish work at 4, which was early for him, and definitely earned him a few more strange looks from Nuala and Cerridwen but he ignored them with ease. He knew he would be getting grilled about his strange behaviour in a few days after they had snooped around and asked his brothers and Mor about what was going on with him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Azriel drove home, now not even attempting to hide the smile on his face. He seemed to smile more since he met Elain, another thing he didn’t really focus on too much. Or something he didn’t want to focus on. He seemed to be doing that a lot, but then again, Azriel was the master of avoiding thinking about his own feelings. It was definitely not a problem, his siblings had no idea what they were talking about. 

Azriel sent Elain a quick text to let her know that he was home and going to start cooking, just in case she wanted to come over and keep him company. It had happened often enough now, Elain laying on his sofa and talking until she fell asleep while he cooked. Azriel would notice she had gone silent and cover her with a blanket, making sure she wasn’t lying in a way that would cause her or the baby any discomfort. 

Elain replied as he was getting the milk into a pan, with a ridiculous amount of sugar to boil away, telling him that she would be coming over soon, with a share bag of prawn crackers, that she would not be sharing. Azriel let out a small laugh when he saw her text. He was never sure if Elain was having cravings, or if she just used them as an excuse and this was how she ate normally. Since he had never known her before she was pregnant, he couldn’t quite say for sure. 

Thinking about Elain’s pregnancy, Azriel couldn’t help but think about how big Elain was. It was the one thing that put him on edge around Elain, how she looked like she could topple down at any moment and not get back up. He tried not to be overbearing and annoying, but he was always worried something would happen to her and the baby. He had spent more of his free time reading up about pregnancy than he would care to admit. He certainly understood why Nesta had refused to have sex for a week when he had watched a video of a woman giving birth. He definitely did not envy Elain for that. 

A knock on the door pulled Azriel from the swirling thoughts in his head. He opened the door, instantly smiling as Elain waddled in, still eating her prawn crackers. He couldn’t help but laugh as she eased herself onto the sofa, still eating. 

“Az, the baby likes the smell of whatever you’ve cooked today.” 

Azriel couldn’t help but blush at the casual use of his nickname. “Tell the baby thank you, I’m glad someone appreciates my cooking.” 

Tags list (if you would like to be added/removed from this please let me know!)

@hizqueen4life @kelly-fasel @sannelovesreading @acourtofmarauders @maastrash @sjm-things @bookstantrash @cursebreaker29 @humanexile @ iammissstark  @stardelia @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @cass-nes @thewayshedreamed

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[dudeandduchess]

can you write Kyōjurō with a s/o who he meets because she’s a member of the wisteria family and he’s staying at her family home after a mission. He’s immediately smitten with her to the point he’s an embarrassed mess! and her grandma is planning the wedding 10 minutes into their introduction. thank you for being a champion in the kyō best boy club!! you are easily one of the best writers in this fandom!!

Hello, bbys! I hope you two don’t mind, but I combined your requests since they had the same premise. But please, if you have other requests, feel free to send them in. :D Hope you guys like it! 

I had so much fun writing this because it gave me a break from all the angst. Ahaha. Not that I don’t love writing angst. It was just a nice change of pace??? UwU

***

Kyōjurō x Pillar F!Reader who is a Member of the Wisteria Clan (SFW Scenario):

“It looks like the rain isn’t letting up, (L/n),” Rengoku began with a worried frown, as he looked up from beneath the canopy he and his fellow Hashira were at. “Maybe we should find shelter?”

(Y/n) cursed under her breath at her comrade’s suggestion; not because she thought it was a dumb idea, but because she knew of the perfect place to seek shelter at no cost at all. What was holding her back was the fact that it would be catastrophic— for her— if she were to bring a man home.

Her grandmother would most likely have the wedding planned within ten minutes of their arrival. And that wouldn’t have been a problem, had she and the Flame Hashira been a couple.

But they weren’t.

Besides, the fact that she harbored very strong feelings for Rengoku wasn’t helping her case— at all. She would rather battle Muzan by herself, instead of take the Flame Hashira home with her.

However, she felt sorry for him. His body temperature ran warmer than most peoples’, but he was still very susceptible to getting cold— and getting sick. She didn’t want to be the reason why her comrade got sick; all because she didn’t want her family to embarrass her in front of him.

So, it left her no choice.

“I know a Wisteria House nearby. We can go there for shelter,” She admitted softly, then immediately averted her gaze when she felt a warm blush color her cheeks.

Kyōjurō’s smiles tended to fluster her so badly, that she always opted to hide her face from him whenever he shot her one of those smiles.

“Come on. Please follow me, Rengoku-san.” With that, (Y/n) used her haori to cover her, before running through the rain.

It didn’t take long for both Hashira to reach their intended destination. The mansion gates loomed over them— tall and imposing in the vast clearing— but what surprised Rengoku was when (Y/n) didn’t bother to knock.

Instead, she merely pushed the gates open and beckoned him inside. “Please come in.”

“Are you sure this is fine?” The Flame Hashira asked through the din of the rain around them. “This is trespassing, (L/n).”

(Y/n) looked up in mild alarm at his words, because he was right. He would think that way because she hadn’t told him that they were at her clan’s estate. But, as soon as she opened her mouth to explain herself, she was struck speechless at the full image that greeted her.

Kyōjurō’s hair was extremely wet, and the tufts that usually stuck upwards were practically glued to his head. His face was also wet from the rain, with thin streams of water running down the sides of it— but she would be damned if she didn’t admit that it was the most breathtaking sight that she had ever seen.

Rengoku stared back at her earnestly. His gaze had softened at how beautiful she still looked beneath the rain, and he felt his heart start to beat harder in his chest.

She leaned in closer to him, as if entranced; while he— in turn— licked his bottom lip and swallowed past the lump in his throat.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that he harbored feelings for the Lightning Hashira, but he simply had never had the courage to confess to her.

He had always been fearless in all his endeavors, except when it concerned his feelings for her.

“(Y/n)-sama!” A frantic cry rose over the sound of the rain, and immediately the water hitting (Y/n)’s face ceased.

The young woman looked up— as the spell around them was broken— only to see that two of her family’s attendants had come running to shield them with umbrellas.

“(Y/n)-sama, you and your companion should go in,” Ichika, the woman holding an umbrella over the Lightning Hashira’s head, implored politely.

And slowly, almost awkwardly, both (Y/n) and Kyōjurō were escorted inside the main house. They were given a change of clothes and time to get themselves bathed.

However, the one request that the ladies left with both Slayers was that they had to go to the main dining room to have dinner with the matriarch of the house.

Kyōjurō had been fine with it, even smiling at the woman who had been attending to his needs. But (Y/n)— who had been led to her old room— reacted quite negatively.

She wanted to scream all while she scrubbed herself clean of all the mud and dirt. Hell, a part of her wanted to take her sweet time, in the hopes that her grandmother would go to bed before she made her appearance; but that was before she realized that the old woman could ask Kyōjurō so many embarrassing things.

Like if they were a couple. She just knew that her grandmother would stoop that low.

So, with a renewed sense of urgency, she hurriedly rinsed herself and threw on her old yukata.

She didn’t even bother to brush her hair in her room; instead, she chose to brush it while tromping down the halls.

When (Y/n) reached the dining room, she almost wanted to scream in horror— because Rengoku was already there. And he was chatting amicably with her scandalous grandmother.

She hurriedly sat down at the empty space next to the Flame Pillar, before offering a shaky smile to the older woman.

“Obaa-chan... I see you’ve met Rengoku-san,” (Y/n) began awkwardly, which made both people at the table quirk their eyebrows at her; both for entirely different reasons.

“Is that any way to refer to your future husband, (Y/n)? Where’s the sweetness? The familiarity? Child, where have I gone wrong while raising you?” Her grandmother immediately let her words loose, which made (Y/n)’s eyes widen in mortification.

She just knew that the old hag was being dense on purpose.

And from his spot beside (Y/n), Kyōjurō froze as a blush warmed his cheeks— all the way up to the tips of his ears. His heart hammered even harder against his chest, and he resisted the urge to let a grin tug at the corners of his lips.

“Obaa-chan, Rengoku-san is a friend! Don’t just assume things!” (Y/n) protested, all while cupping her red cheeks with her hands. “You rude old hag!”

“You little brat. How will you get married with that attitude? I’m dying and my dying wish is to see my only grandchild get married!” Emiko, the (L/n) matriarch and (Y/n)’s grandmother, answered in a shrill tone— before taking her cane in hand and lightly hitting her granddaughter over the head with it.

Kyōjurō had to stifle a laugh at that, but he also took pity on the woman beside him because she had to put up with so much.

It explained the initial hesitance he had picked up from her earlier. She most likely didn’t want him to see her get whooped by a woman in her seventies.

So, even though he knew that he shouldn’t— because he was inevitably giving himself some semblance of hope— he decided to cut in and save his fellow Hashira. “Don’t worry, obaa-san... I’ll be sure to marry your granddaughter no matter what happens.”

“What?!” (Y/n) almost screamed, but her voice was barely heard over her grandmother’s excited chatter.

“Oh my! That’s very valiant of you, Kyōjurō-kun! Should we set the wedding up for next week, then? I’m sure we can have the preparations done quickly.”

“No! There will be no wedding, you old bat!” (Y/n) protested. “Stop embarrassing me! Please!”

And after that, the table— thankfully— lapsed into an awkward silence. But silence was still silence, no matter what form it came in.

However, (Y/n) was still afraid... because her grandmother still had an evil glint in her beady little eyes.

***

And come the end of dinner, she found out exactly why the old bat had looked so smug: she had given her and Kyōjurō one room to sleep in— her old room.

“I’m sorry, Rengoku-san. Now you know why I didn’t want to bring you here,” The young woman apologized softly, as she made a conscious effort to hide her blushing face from the Flame Hashira.

They sat on top of their respective futons— which (Y/n) had pulled away from each other earlier— as they made idle conversation before turning in for the night.

“It’s no problem at all... (Y/n).”

The use of her given name had her snapping her gaze up at him; and when she saw an unsure smile aimed at her, she almost melted on the spot. Almost. But with a shake of her head, she gathered her wits about her once more and spoke, “For the record, I have two other cousins. So please don’t believe my crazy grandmother. You don’t have to... marry me.”

An equally flustered expression made itself evident on Rengoku’s features, and he reached up to idly scratch at his warm cheek— all while he averted his gaze from the woman in front of him. She had presented him such a good opportunity, so he had to grasp it with both hands. It was now or never. “What if I wanted to? Marry you, that is.”

Silence answered the Flame Hashira’s question, which alarmed him. He immediately looked up at (Y/n)— only to see her blinking at him owlishly. It seemed like his question had broken the normally astute Hashira.

“You what?”

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth— such an uncharacteristic gesture, but the only thing he could resort to at that moment— as he thought of how to phrase his words correctly.

But eventually, he just decided to be forthright with his words— as was his usual demeanor. “I’ve always had feelings for you, (Y/n). Romantic feelings. Ones that make me want to marry you. Ah! I hope that wasn’t too forward. It’s just-”

Kyōjurō couldn’t continue his tirade, as (Y/n) had already crawled over to him and pressed her lips to his in the faintest of kisses. “I love you too... Kyōjurō.”