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yaksha-lover · 9 months ago

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Thus Always to Tyrants

Summary: Lilia has always been an enigma to you; slipping through your fingers at every attempt to get close - follows fae!reader’s relationship with lilia from childhood to the war to present day in briar valley

Lilia Vanrouge x Fae!Reader, small background Meleanor x reader hehe

wc: 3.8k

cw: i’m too into medieval fantasy so i created unnecessary lore (clown noises), also i haven’t read book 7 so prob butchered canon, (but spoilers), angst, grief, unrequited (?) love, pining, mild description of war events/tragedy

Even then, he hadn’t seen you. Before the wars and before the bloodshed, when there’d only been long grass to tickle your ankles and azure skies allowing you to guess at clouds, Lilia had never seen you.

There’d always been something, someone, to distract him.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier this way, to imagine that there’s something other than disinterest and disgust keeping you apart.

The forests of Briar Valley are filled with pine trees, their scent so potent you wished you could bottle the air and take it home.

That was where you and Meleanor had met Lilia. You’d grown up in the royal castle, the two of you spending afternoons giggling about the latest court gossip and eating all the sweets you could before the queen could scold her daughter.

That day is one of your fondest memories, and not entirely because of him. The trunk of the giant oak tree was hard against your back, but you hadn’t been able to think about anything but the feel of your princess’ head in your lap. She’d simply closed her eyes and demanded you read to her, dark hair spilling around your legs.

“As you wish, Mel,” you’d agreed, gathering up one of her favourite books.

She’d only popped an eye open to tease you. “Mel, is it? Not princess? Perhaps I should have you punished for such transgressions~” She giggled.

“If I am to be placed in the dungeon, then who will feed you ice cream and read to you, dear princess?” you countered, ruffling her hair.

“Hmm, I suppose your insubordination will have to forgiven…but only if you allow me to remain on your lap for an adequate amount of time. Any sooner, and I’ll have to punish you myself~”

She was temperamental yet whimsical, delighting you as much as she terrified you. Mostly, Meleanor was your best friend. Your only friend, truly. There weren’t many children your age around the castle; you were only there because your father sat on the high council as the master of coin.

After you’d been reading aloud to her for some time, a sudden rustle in the trees caught the both of you off guard. The princess had jumped up quickly, all the combat lessons she’d taken with the head of the Queen’s guard finally paying off.

Out from the vegetation, a short, dark-haired fae who looked to be around your age emerged. He was fitted in what could only be described as rags; torn and stained all over. Despite his disheveled look, you thought he had a certain charm about him.

Meleanor, who’d grown taller than you ages ago, towered over him. It was almost a pitiful sight.

The princess had narrowed her eyes and asked: “Where have you come from?”

“Nowhere,” he’d answered simply, looking down at his feet. “I’m no one.”

That was the meekest you’d ever seen him, no indication of his true vibrant personality.

From that day in the forest, Lilia had been with you. Meleanor had begged the queen to let him stay in the castle, to grow up with you and her as another companion. The princess’ tears worked especially well on her mother, so of course she’d gotten her way.

As she grew up, the princess only became more and more beautiful. You weren’t the only one who noticed, either. The three of you were still young at the time, but Lilia seemed fond and more than fond of Meleanor. The princess returned his affections, but perhaps not with the same intent; she almost smote him when he’d jokingly proposed to her with a ring of grass. It made you angry, for a while. She was your friend first, and now Lilia had come to hog all her time and attention.

It was hard to see your only friend pulled in a new direction, especially one that seemed so far away from you. That was back when you were small; things settled quickly after that, with the three of you falling easily into friendship. There would still be times, occasionally, when you were envious of the friendship shared by Meleanor and Lilia, but it was on both ends. You simply wished to be included, not to have the princess or Lilia all to yourself. That was never a possibility, after all.

As you grew, it wasn’t long before Meleanor fell in love with Levan. You’d been…annoyed, at first, at how fast your friend had seemed to leave you behind yet again.

“You promised to take me flying today, dear princess,” you’d said, trying and failing to keep the gloom out of your voice. “Don’t you remember?”

Meleanor looked up from brushing her hair, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “Forgive me, I cannot turn away Levan…my heart will not let me.”

“But it will let you turn me away?”

She turned now, facing you directly, some of her signature anger evident in her expression. Her violent temper only seemed her grow with her adolescence. “Stop this foolishness! You are my friend, but Levan is my beloved. If you find issue with that, you will leave my castle at once.”

As though you couldn’t feel more humiliated, she’d moved, stopping in front of you and tilting your chin to meet her gaze. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you’d whispered, wondering when things had changed.

And then she’d pulled you into her arms, and suddenly she’d felt all too familiar again, hugging you and telling you she loved you, asking you to always stay by her side. As her dearest friend.

Being cold to Levan only pushed you further from Meleanor, so you were forced to accept his presence. Once the initial hostility dissipated, you found that Levan was quite pleasant.

If Meleanor was always destined to be with another, then you were happy it was someone as great as Levan, at the very least. With your princess’ time now being taken up by her lover, you and Lilia spent much more time alone together than before.

The first time you had the courage to broach the subject of marriages and pairings had done nothing but splash the cold water of Lilia’s indirect rejection on to you. With how cold and empty you felt, it was as though the shivers went bone deep.

Your father had insisted on looking for a match for you. A political marriage to improve your family’s standing, surely. You had protested and held it off as long as you could, but now his asks were becoming unavoidable.

You’d thought - hoped - that Lilia might be interested. He wouldn’t be your father’s number one choice, but he would still accept it; Lilia may not have been of noble birth, but his status as a respected general amongst the court bought him points. Marrying him would certainly be better than any stuffy old fae you’d be forced to settle down with.

It wasn’t just avoiding others, either. You wanted Lilia, as loathe as you were to admit. He was your friend, a close companion, and perhaps you’d even desired more.

It was difficult to voice to yourself that your affections went beyond platonic when you were not so delusional as to imagine that he felt the same in any way.

No, you felt like an afterthought to Lilia. As though you were merely Meleanor’s friend, and not his own. He wasn’t so kind to you as he was the princess, and the affection he held for her, although now platonic, went beyond anything you could imagine receiving from him. Even Levan seemed to bond with him easier than you had after knowing him for years. It was like he tolerated you more than anything; when Meleanor was off with Levan, you were the only option left.

It shouldn’t have hurt so much when he said he didn’t wish to marry. The ‘you’ part seemed unspoken, even though he claimed reasons of freedom and lifestyle instead of saying anything about you.

Regardless, he’d made the decision for you. Your father would ship you away from the castle, to be married to a stranger, leaving behind your beloved…friends.

At least he would have, had the war not begun so suddenly.

If you believed Lilia had hardened his heart to you before, then becoming a war general had hardened his heart to the world. Although it was the last thing on anyone’s minds, had you tried to bridge the gap between the two of you, not only would you have failed, but you might’ve gained a nice scar along with it.

To the untrained eye, Lilia seemed to thrive on the battlefield; swift with strength that went unmatched by any. But you knew better. There was a sense in which Lilia lost himself in action, where he seemed so distant from the boy you’d grown up with; perhaps it was his own way of coping with the horrors he’d been forced to experience, fae he fought alongside being slaughtered. In the end, it hadn’t mattered who they were before the battlefield; nobles and common folk alike fought and fell.

It was torturous to wait out the war in the castle. Every letter that came made your heart race, fear taking ahold as you read through the list of your fallen companions. It almost seemed inevitable that one day Lilia or Levan might appear on the list and send you into despair. Your only saving grace was Meleanor, the two of you keeping quiet company during this time, both not allowed to join the conflict and feeling useless for it.

You begged your father to let you join Lilia; you weren’t the most skilled fighter, but your healing magic excelled beyond any other, and you could hold your own for the most part. He’d denied you until so many had been lost that the queen asked for your service. None of you had known just how close tragedy was, how your departure for Lilia’s camp would mean leaving behind your beloved princess to die.

“Go back,” Lilia had growled at you. It was the very first thing he’d said since you’d come to his camp.

“I’m here to help, instead of rotting away in the castle while my people suffer!” You’d followed after him as he strutted between tents, giving orders to the other soldiers.

He’d shook his head, glaring at you. “You’re a spoiled little noble, you know nothing of the battlefield. Go back home. It’s not safe here.”

“I know I’m sheltered, but I’d like to try and help where I can! I don’t care what happens to me.”

Lilia stopped in his tracks, not facing you as he spoke.

“You don’t care? You’re selfish, you know that? What would Meleanor do without you? What would I-” He shook his head. “I don’t have time for this. Go back. Don’t make me make you.”

“Perhaps I am selfish, but what about me, Lilia? Shouldn’t it matter that I can’t possibly imagine a life where we’re not together, fighting side by side?” Your voice goes quiet. “I had a dream, an awful dream. One where you were dead…I’m afraid. I don’t want that dream to become real.”

You’d thought, for a moment, that his hardened gaze had wavered, but the next second, he’d ordered one of his subordinates to take you back to the castle. Perhaps the softness you believed you saw within him was only a trick of the light.

You’d been a fool. A fool in grief and despair, but a fool nonetheless.

Meleanor’s death had pulled you away from yourself, made you into some automaton which possessed none of your good qualities, for which you had to wonder if there were any to begin with. She’d been your friend, your only family. You should’ve been with her; you should’ve died with her. You should’ve done anything you could, and you’d failed.

It was only by a day that you’d left the castle and missed the fight that occurred.

Meleanor fought bravely, a knight had told you. And Meleanor died.

You waited for Lilia to come back. To come home to you. Your heart sang, a brief reprieve from all the aching when you found out he was alive; he was all you had left.

He never came, at least not to see you.

You fled the castle. There’d been no goodbyes to your father and no concern for Meleanor’s child.

If she’d been around, she surely would have killed you for your selfishness, but your head swam with grief and so you left everything behind.

It had been…surprising, to hear from Malleus. You’d heard amidst your travels that your father still sat on the small council, so perhaps he’d heard of you from him, considering they were together in Briar Valley. Who else would have known about you and your relationship with his mother?

There was General Vanrouge, but he…why would he even mention you at this point?

You’d taken to calling him that in your mind, if only to distance yourself a little more from your past. You heard he’d returned to Briar Valley years after you’d departed, but other than acting as a guardian for the prince and a curious human boy, you had no idea what he was up to.

It was a wonder the world was as big as it was, meaning you’d never run into the general during your travels.

And here, on the desk of your hostel, sat a letter from the crown prince. Your Meleanor’s son. The one you’d left behind.

With the distance of time, a new feeling stirs in your chest. One of unease and shame, yet another failure to the Draconia’s. You hoped the boy was doing well. Would it even be possible to accept if he wasn’t?

Well, he was asking, along with Meleanor’s mother, that you pay them a visit once again. The Queen…you’d abandoned her too, in a way. You dared not hope that she thought of you as another one of her children, but in a way, you’d loved her as a mother.

Heat burned at your cheeks. With your focus on Meleanor, Lilia, and Levan, you’d forgotten there were more people you considered your family. More people that you’d left behind in Briar Valley.

After all this time, you owed them an explanation, no, an apology. You owed them your return home.

Malleus greets you at the gates.

You’re stunned, for a moment. Dark locks of long hair sprawled elegantly across his shoulders, two curved horns peaking out from his head. Piercing green eyes that look into your soul.

He’s the spitting imagine of your best friend.

You try to move forward, but a green-haired fae stops you in your tracks, moving between you and Malleus.

“Keep your distance! Have some respect for your Prince!”

Malleus is quick to shake his head. “Leave them be, Sebek. This is Lord Tyrell’s child. My mother’s childhood friend.”

Sebek is quick to step-aside, bowing before you in apology, allowing you to step forward and hug Malleus. He’s motionless for a moment, and you’re worried you’ve crossed his boundaries, before he slowly slides his arms around your back, returning the hug.

“The resemblance between you and your mother…it is truly incredible. Pardon me for getting emotional, but I wasn’t expecting you to look so grown up…last I saw, you were merely an egg.”

He looks at you, smiling gently. “It’s nice to meet a friend of my mother’s. I feel I hardly know anything about her. Even Lilia refuses to speak of her.”

Your heart stirs at the mention of your former friend’s name. “I hope I can provide some memories of her.” You look away from him. “I only wish I could’ve done so sooner…I apologize, Malleus. I should have been here for you, just as Lilia was. I should have taken care of you, not left you behind when you were only a child…”

He shakes his head once again. “You are here now. That is all that matters.”

“Thank you, I hardly deserve your kindness.”

He returns your smile. “It is what my mother would have wished for, is it not?”

He leads you through the halls of the castle, but you wouldn’t have needed his help to get around. Every wall in the castle is burned into your brain, engrained with a variety of memories.

The halls are vastly the same as you remember; the same silver trim, the velveteen carpets, and the Draconia sigil hung on banners.

Only one thing stands out as different to you: there’s one more portrait than before.

Normally the Draconia family portraits were done about every century, so it made sense that one had been added semi-recently. This one is just of Malleus and Maleficia, occupying a rather empty-looking frame. Even if you didn’t know about Meleanor and Levan, you would know something was missing from it.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the appearance of a Silver-haired boy. He pauses to stare at you for a moment before smiling.

“You must be MC. Father has told me so much about you.” He bows lightly.

“You’re Silver? Lilia’s boy?” You take his hands in yours. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“And you as well. We’ve promised to help some of the younger knights with their training, so Sebek and I won’t be able to stay for dinner, but I hope you’ll stick around. It would be nice to hear about you from more than the stories my father shares.”

“I’ve been gone so long, I certainly intend to stay for a while. Maybe I’ll be able to tell you some stories of your father when he was younger.”

With a nod, Silver is off.

Malleus leads you into the dining room and you catch your first glimpse of Lilia Vanrouge in over a century.

He’s different and the same, all at once. He’s maintained his youthful looks, but his hair has radically changed; cropped and pink, where it once flowed in its red glory.

You turn to greet Maleficia first, bowing in front of her. “It is an honour to dine with you, your grace.”

“Stop that nonsense. Come to me, my dear. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you.”

The queen embraces you gently in her frail frame.

“I am truly sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s already forgotten,” she whispers back. “The past is the past, and we are here now. Please, take a seat, so we may dine together once again.”

Maleficia and Malleus sit at the head of the table on each side, so you take your place across from Lilia.

“It’s nice to see you again,” you offer.

“You as well,” Lilia replies, seemingly at a loss.

The dinner proceeds, Maleficia and Malleus asking questions about your travels. Lilia chimes in occasionally, but he’s uncharacteristically silent. Or perhaps characteristically? You hardly know him anymore, after all.

Once the final course comes and goes, Maleficia stands from the table. “Malleus, let us take our tea in the garden today. I believe these two have a lifetime of catching up to do.”

With that, the two of them are off.

“I missed you.” You don’t intend the words to come, but they spill out of your heart anyway.

“As did I.”

You fidget with the cutlery in front of you. “You’re still so formal with me after all this time. Have we truly become strangers?”

“You could never be a stranger to me. Not a day has gone by without you being in my thoughts.”

“And yet you never went looking for me. You returned to the castle only after I left, starting a family, raising Silver and Malleus…”

“They needed me. You know that.”

“You left me. You were all I had left after…I would have done anything, followed you anywhere. I would have helped you take care of Silver, Malleus. But you left without saying a thing.”

“I never knew…”

“Of course you did. Everyone did.”

“Nothing good would have come from us being together.”

“At least you’re finally being honest about your feelings. If you hated me as I feared, you should have sent me away the moment I came.”

“Hate? No, it was never like that. The distance between us…it seemed quite impossible to traverse.”

“Distance? We grew up in the same castle for hundreds of years…”

“That’s not what I was referring to.”

“Then to what?”

“You know how they all thought of me. The senate, your father, all believed I never deserved to be so close to you and Mel-” Lilia takes a moment to breathe. “To you and the princess.”

The mention of her name has you squeezing your eyes closed. Even after hundreds of years, it hurts to remember your beloved friend, her sweet memory tainted with the despair of her death. “Why does it matter what they thought?”

“They never would have allowed it. You know that.”

“No, that’s not true. My father said…”

“He lied. He was the first to send me away after her death.”

“He what? I- I was told you left, torn apart by grief.”

“I was in pain, but I always planned to return home…return to you. But the senate, they declared that there was no place at court for me anymore. That I failed- I failed at protecting Meleanor.”

A short silence rings between you. It’s perhaps the first time either of you have heard her name said aloud in centuries.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I never knew.”

“I never wanted you to. I’d rather you hate me than your family.”

“I understand. But you were my family, too. Perhaps the only one who truly had my best interests in mind and not some political scheming or such. And now look at you: Silver, Sebek, Malleus. Against all odds, you’ve found yourself a new family.” While I’ve ended up alone, you don’t say.

“You know I’ve always said, families are better the bigger they are. Perhaps it’s far too late, but-”

“Later’s better than never.”

A moment of understanding passes between you two, perhaps for the first time.

“Your hair…you look quite different from when I last saw you.”

“Hmm, Red was going out of style, I suppose. Although I’m sure you wish I hadn’t changed it. You always did prefer red.”

You shake your head softly. “Perhaps in the past, but we’ve both changed, haven’t we? No, I was going to say that it becomes you.”

The silence that settles between you is filled by an exchange of gentle smiles and a skimming of one hand over the other, until the two finally link together.

#unedited once again #just hoping for the best 🧎‍♂️#also this took me literal months to finish for some reason so if the writing is inconsistent 🥴🥴#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #meleanor draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge #meleanor draconia #malleus draconia #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #twst #twisted wonderland

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zzukowo · 3 months ago

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the prince meets his princess <3 (26 September 2024)

Zuko x Reader

Prompt! Gaang goes to meet the water tribe princess who zuko finds himself at his knees for.

The journey to the Northern Water Tribe had been long and arduous, but the group finally neared the icy shores of the grand city. Zuko stood at the edge of Appa’s saddle, his eyes locked on the towering walls coming into view. His mind raced—part nerves, part anticipation. Aang and Katara had spoken about meeting the Water Tribe’s princess, Y/N, but Zuko wasn’t sure what to expect.

As they landed, they were greeted by a group of Water Tribe warriors, though it was clear they were awaiting someone more important.

“The princess will meet you shortly,” one of the warriors said, bowing slightly. “She’s been preparing for your arrival.”

Sokka nudged Katara with a grin. “Princess, huh? Bet she’s like Yue. All noble and proper.”

Katara smiled fondly at the memory of Yue but shook her head. “Not everyone’s like Yue, Sokka.”

Toph scoffed, her arms crossed as she sat comfortably on Appa. “Great, another fancy royal type. She better not be all high and mighty.”

Zuko remained quiet, his gaze focused on the palace. The Northern Water Tribe’s city shimmered in the ice and snow, a place of incredible beauty and power, but he couldn’t shake the sense that something—or rather, someone—was about to unsettle him.

And then she arrived.

Y/N stepped out from the palace gates with a group of waterbenders trailing behind her. She wore the elegant, traditional attire of the tribe, but there was something casual about the way she held herself—graceful yet relaxed, confident but not boastful. Her eyes swept across the group, lingering on each of them until they finally landed on Zuko.

“Welcome,” Y/N said, her voice carrying easily across the frozen courtyard. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Aang was the first to move, practically leaping forward in his excitement. “Thank you for welcoming us, Princess Y/N! Your city is amazing!”

Y/N smiled, her lips curving gently. “Please, just Y/N. No need for titles here.”

Sokka grinned at her, giving a mock salute. “Well, you’re already cooler than most princesses.”

Katara elbowed him hard in the ribs, but Y/N just laughed, her eyes twinkling. "I'm glad you think so. But don't let the title fool you—I can hold my own."

Zuko hadn’t said a word, too busy studying her. She was powerful; that much was obvious. But there was a warmth to her that reminded him of Katara, though her energy felt more like the calmness of water flowing steadily.

Y/N turned her attention toward him, and Zuko stiffened under her gaze. "And you must be Zuko," she said, a hint of curiosity in her tone. "The prince who turned against his father."

Zuko straightened, nodding slightly. “I am.”

Her smile didn’t falter. "You made the right choice. Fighting for peace instead of fear is the path worth taking."

For a moment, Zuko didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t used to receiving such acknowledgment without any bitterness attached. His silence didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the group.

Toph grinned knowingly, sensing the vibrations in the ground from Zuko’s nervousness. “Oh yeah, he’s all tense. She’s totally got him wrapped around her little finger already.”

Sokka snickered. "Called it! Bet he’s already regretting wearing that broody look."

Zuko shot them a glare, but Y/N either didn’t hear or didn’t care, gesturing for the group to follow her. “Come, you must be tired from your journey. My people have prepared a feast for your arrival.”

As they walked through the grand halls of the palace, Zuko lagged behind, his mind swirling. He could feel the others’ eyes on him, especially Toph’s.

“I can feel how nervous you are, Sparky,” she said quietly as they walked. “She’s just a person, you know. No need to have your insides twisted up in knots.”

Zuko shot her a look, cheeks faintly reddening. “I’m not nervous.”

“Uh-huh.” Toph smirked. “Sure you’re not.”

When they reached the grand hall for dinner, Y/N took her place at the head of the table, her eyes occasionally flickering toward Zuko. He pretended not to notice, but everyone else certainly did.

“So, Princess Y/N,” Sokka began, leaning forward. “How do you spend your royal days? Training waterbenders? Organizing parties? Or, you know, defeating enemies like us.”

Y/N smiled, amused. "More like training waterbenders and making sure our warriors are prepared for anything. Parties aren’t exactly a priority these days."

Zuko remained quiet, watching her interact with the group. He could tell she was a capable leader, someone who was strong but kind, and it made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t expected. There was something about her, the way she handled herself, that made him feel... off balance.

"You’ve been quiet, Hothead," Toph whispered, her voice dripping with amusement. “What, the princess got your tongue?”

Zuko stiffened, glaring at her. “Shut up, Toph.”

Toph smirked. “Relax, Sparky. Your heart’s pounding like a stampede.”

Sokka, overhearing, grinned from across the table. “Hey, Zuko, how’s it going over there? Enjoying the royal company?”

Zuko glared at him, his face flushing slightly. “I said shut up, Sokka.”

Toph snickered. “Too late. She’s already got you all flustered.”

The next morning, the group gathered at the training grounds to practice their bending. Y/N stood in the center of the field, demonstrating her mastery over water. Her movements were fluid and precise, the water responding effortlessly to her will. Zuko couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by her control and grace.

“Are you just going to watch, or are you going to join me?” Y/N’s voice cut through his thoughts, and Zuko blinked, realizing she was looking directly at him.

“Uh, I—” Zuko hesitated, glancing at the others, who were grinning like idiots. “I’ll join.”

As he stepped forward, Toph elbowed Sokka. “He’s gonna embarrass himself, I can feel it.”

Sokka grinned. “Maybe he’ll manage to impress her. I doubt it, though.”

Y/N and Zuko faced off, her smile teasing yet focused. “Ready?”

Zuko nodded, trying to push aside the heat creeping up his neck. The spar began, water and fire clashing in a dazzling display of skill. Zuko fought to keep up with her fluid movements, but there was something disarming about the way Y/N moved—almost playful, like she was testing him more than challenging him.

From the sidelines, Toph grinned. “His heart’s pounding harder now. Looks like he’s a goner.”

Katara crossed her arms, smiling knowingly. “I think Y/N might be just what Zuko needs.”

As Zuko and Y/N sparred, it became clear that she was holding back. Her waterbending flowed like a river, never forceful but always controlled, while Zuko’s firebending was more aggressive—he couldn’t help it. The frustration building inside him made his flames larger, hotter, but none of it seemed to faze Y/N.

She deflected his flames with a single movement, sending the water back toward him in a spiraling wave. Zuko quickly dodged, skidding to the side, but as he turned back to counter, he found himself staring straight into Y/N’s teasing grin.

“What’s the matter, Prince Zuko?” she asked, her voice light, playful. “You seem distracted.”

Zuko clenched his fists, his brow furrowing. “I’m not distracted,” he muttered, trying to regain focus.

But it was no use. His mind kept replaying the soft, teasing lilt in her voice, the way her smile seemed to be aimed directly at him. And that only made him push harder, launching another stream of fire toward her. Y/N dodged with ease, stepping lightly across the icy ground as if she were dancing.

“Zuko, breathe,” Katara called from the sidelines, her arms crossed but her voice filled with concern. “You’re not going to win if you let her get under your skin.”

Toph chuckled, her grin widening as she shifted her feet, sensing the vibrations in the earth. “Oh, he’s definitely got more than fighting on his mind.”

Zuko shot a glare in Toph’s direction, but that second of distraction cost him. Y/N took the opportunity to send a jet of water straight toward him, knocking him off his feet. He landed with a thud, the breath knocked out of his lungs as he hit the ice.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Sokka burst out laughing. “Oh, man! She wiped the floor with you!”

Zuko groaned, pushing himself up, but before he could stand fully, a hand appeared in his vision. He looked up, seeing Y/N offering him a hand, her expression soft and amused.

“Good match,” she said with a slight smirk. “You put up a good fight.”

Zuko hesitated before taking her hand, feeling the warmth from her fingers despite the cold air around them. He rose to his feet, his eyes locking with hers, and for a brief moment, everything around them faded. There was something in her gaze, something playful but also… understanding. As if she saw something in him that no one else did.

But then the moment was broken by Toph’s snort. “Wow, Sparky, she knocked you down and now she’s got you all tongue-tied too?”

Zuko pulled his hand back quickly, his face flushing as he turned away. “I’m fine.”

Sokka came over, patting Zuko on the back with a grin. “Yeah, sure. Fine. Totally fine. Except for, you know, getting completely owned by a princess.”

“I didn’t get owned,” Zuko growled, shooting a glare at Sokka, who just laughed harder.

Y/N smiled, her eyes still lingering on Zuko for a moment longer before she turned back to the group. “You all must be hungry after watching the match. Come, let’s get something to eat.”

As they headed back to the palace, Toph fell into step beside Zuko, her smirk unmistakable. “You know, Sparky, for someone who claims not to be distracted, your heartbeat was going crazy the whole time. I could feel it all the way from the sidelines.”

Zuko groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can you just… not, Toph?”

She grinned. “What? I’m just saying. She’s clearly into you too. You’re just too dense to notice.”

Zuko glared at her, but a part of him couldn’t help wondering if Toph was right. There was something about Y/N—something that pulled him in, no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

As they approached the dining hall, Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Zuko’s again for a brief second. She gave him a small, knowing smile before turning back, and Zuko’s heart thudded in his chest.

Toph was right. He was definitely in trouble.

As they gathered in the grand dining hall, the group settled around the long, intricately carved table, the warmth of the firelight bouncing off the ice walls. Y/N took her place at the head, her calm demeanor only adding to the regal aura that surrounded her.

Zuko, sitting across from her, tried to focus on the food in front of him, but his eyes kept flickering back to Y/N. The way her fingers effortlessly twirled a strand of water from her cup, the smile that never seemed to fade, it was all too distracting. The others noticed—of course, they did—and it didn’t take long for the teasing to begin.

Sokka leaned forward, a grin already forming on his face. "You know," he started, glancing between Zuko and Y/N, "it’s kinda poetic, don’t you think? The Fire Prince and the Water Princess. It’s like something out of one of those old love stories."

Katara’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she chimed in. "Yeah, opposites attracting and all that. You two would balance each other perfectly."

Zuko’s face immediately flushed, his hands gripping his chopsticks a little tighter. "We’re not—" he started, but Sokka cut him off with a wave.

"Oh, come on, Zuko. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it." He leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Fire and water. It’s practically written in the stars."

Toph snorted from beside him. "I can feel your heart pounding from here, Sparky. You’ve been all jittery since we landed, and it’s definitely not because of the cold."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her amused gaze flitting over to Zuko, who was desperately trying to keep his cool. She didn’t seem flustered at all by the teasing, instead taking it in stride.

"Well," Y/N said with a smirk, her voice light and teasing, "if we’re talking balance, I guess it would make sense. After all, fire needs water to keep it from getting out of control, right?"

The comment sent the group into a chorus of laughter, and Zuko could feel his face heat up even more. He glared at Sokka and Toph, though it did nothing to stop the teasing.

Aang, ever the peacekeeper, grinned as he nodded in agreement. "I think it makes sense! You both have this calm intensity about you. Like… you’re passionate in different ways, but it would complement each other."

"Exactly!" Sokka said, pointing his chopsticks at Zuko dramatically. "See? Even the Avatar agrees! The Fire Prince and the Water Princess, destined to—"

"That’s enough!" Zuko finally snapped, slamming his chopsticks down on the table, his face a deep shade of red. "We’re just… allies. That’s it."

But Y/N, ever calm and unbothered, leaned forward with a playful glint in her eyes. "Allies, huh?" She glanced at the group before meeting Zuko’s eyes again. "Well, I suppose we’ll see what happens, won’t we?"

Zuko nearly choked on his drink at the way she said it, the subtle teasing in her tone making his heart race even faster. He quickly looked away, his mind scrambling for something—anything—to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete idiot.

Toph grinned, clearly enjoying every second of Zuko’s discomfort. "You’re making this too easy, Zuko. I didn’t even need to bend to feel how hard you’re blushing."

Sokka leaned closer, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, "I bet they’ll be exchanging love letters by the end of the week."

Zuko shot him a death glare. "Shut. Up."

But the teasing only continued, the group laughing and throwing playful jabs at the so-called "perfect match" of the Fire Prince and the Water Princess. Through it all, Y/N remained calm, an amused smile on her lips as she occasionally glanced at Zuko, clearly enjoying how flustered he was becoming.

And as the laughter died down and they returned to their meals, Zuko couldn’t help but steal one more glance at Y/N. She caught his eye, giving him a small, knowing smile that made his heart skip a beat.

Maybe, just maybe, there was something to the whole "Fire Prince and Water Princess" idea after all.

The air was crisp and cool as the group moved from the dining hall to the palace’s outer courtyard. The sun had just begun to set, casting shades of pink and orange across the sky, reflecting off the ice sculptures that lined the walkway. Y/N led the way, her steps graceful as she guided them to a peaceful overlook by the water.

Zuko trailed behind, still feeling the heat in his cheeks from the relentless teasing at dinner. Every time he tried to shake the embarrassment, Toph or Sokka would shoot him a look or make another comment under their breath, and it would start all over again.

Y/N, seemingly unbothered by the playful jabs, kept a small smile on her lips as they walked. Her posture was relaxed, her hands lightly trailing along the icy walls of the palace as if she had all the time in the world. Zuko couldn’t help but admire her ease. While the world was on the brink of war, and their futures felt uncertain, she moved through it all with a sense of calm that made everything around her seem less daunting.

It drove him mad—and fascinated him all at once.

As they reached the overlook, Y/N stopped, gazing out at the vast expanse of icy waters. The setting sun cast a golden glow on the waves, the calm surface reflecting the fire in the sky. She turned to face the group, her eyes bright with excitement.

“There’s something I want to show you,” she said softly, motioning for them to sit.

The group gathered around her, curiosity piqued. Aang, always eager to learn new bending techniques, practically bounced on his toes. Katara folded her arms, a smile tugging at her lips, while Sokka, now more relaxed after their earlier banter, sat with his chin propped in his hand.

Zuko, despite his best efforts to act indifferent, found himself leaning closer, his attention fully on Y/N.

With a graceful flick of her wrist, Y/N pulled water from the ocean, bringing it up into a sphere that hovered in the air. She stepped closer to the group, the water shifting and moving as if alive, responding to her every command. Zuko watched as the sphere shimmered, the light from the sunset refracting through it, creating a kaleidoscope of colors.

“I’ve been working on this for a while,” Y/N explained, her voice low and calm. “It’s a technique unique to our tribe, passed down through generations.”

She stepped back, giving the water a gentle push with her palm. It began to spiral, turning faster and faster until it formed a vortex, hovering just above their heads. The group looked up in awe as droplets of water began to fall, catching the light and sparkling like stars.

Even Toph, though unable to see, seemed to sense the beauty of it. “Whoa… that’s pretty cool, Princess.”

“Wait—” Sokka held up a hand. “Is this your way of showing off for Zuko? ‘Cause if it is, I gotta admit, it’s working.”

Y/N shot him a look, her expression soft but amused. “Sokka, not everything is about trying to impress someone.”

Zuko, once again the center of attention, immediately stiffened. “I wasn’t—”

But Sokka wasn’t finished. “I mean, come on, fire and water? It’s like destiny, right?” He leaned back with a smirk. “You two were literally made for each other.”

Y/N laughed lightly, shaking her head. “Is that so?”

Before Zuko could say anything, Aang chimed in, ever the optimist. “He’s kind of right. Fire and water balance each other, just like in nature. It’s all about harmony.”

Toph snorted, smirking in Zuko’s direction. “I dunno, Twinkletoes. I’m still sensing a lot of *tension* from Sparky over here.”

Katara, always the voice of reason, smiled gently at Y/N. “It’s amazing how you control the water so effortlessly. You and Zuko could probably teach each other a lot.”

Zuko, whose face was now burning brighter than the setting sun, couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough!” He stood abruptly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Can we just—” He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Can we focus on the mission, not on… this.”

The teasing grins around him didn’t fade, but they did settle down for the moment. Y/N, however, remained calm, her gaze never leaving him.

“Alright,” she said gently, waving her hand and allowing the water vortex to collapse back into the ocean. “The mission it is, then.”

The group fell silent for a moment, watching the last remnants of the vortex disappear beneath the waves. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the water against the icy shore.

Zuko turned away, embarrassed by how easily the group had gotten under his skin. He was the Fire Prince, and yet, when it came to her, he couldn’t control his reactions. It frustrated him to no end.

But before he could spiral further into his thoughts, Y/N spoke again, her voice soft and steady. “Zuko.”

He hesitated, then turned to face her. She stepped closer, her eyes shining with warmth, not a trace of teasing in her expression.

“I know they’re just messing with you,” she said quietly, so only he could hear. “But if it helps, I’ve always admired your strength. Your fire isn’t something to hide from.”

Zuko blinked, her words sinking in deeper than he expected. She smiled at him, soft and sincere, and for the first time in a long while, Zuko felt like he wasn’t fighting alone.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, stepping back to rejoin the group as they began discussing the next part of their journey. But Zuko couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them—something subtle but undeniable.

And for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—the group’s teasing wasn’t all that far off.

#zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko avatar #zuko #atla zuko #prince zuko #zuko x reader #avatar x y/n #atla x reader #atla

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lettucing · 1 month ago

Text

look of love, rush of blood | chapter two

words: ~4.1k | pairing: jschlatt x she/her, afab reader

summary: Thanks to a not-so-subtle push from your roommate, Joelle, you find yourself crossing paths with Schlatt once again.

notes: ITS FINALLY HERE!! my apologies for taking 5ever, this chapter was originally going to be WAY longer but i wasn't getting it done as fast as i expected to so i decided to split it up into two parts and post them separately. chapter three is gonna go up super soon!!!! <33 (p.s. my apologies for any typos/mistakes, i proofread this thing so many times they probably started going over my head towards the end)

⭑

You’re pulled from sleep by a knock on your door, muffled but persistent.

Before you have a chance to roll over and pretend you didn’t hear it, Joelle’s voice filters through, cheerful and impossible to ignore. You groan, glancing at the alarm clock reading 10:54 AM, before dragging yourself from the tangle of your sheets, last night's drinks still lingering in your head. “Shit.” You think, mentally kicking yourself for sleeping in so late. You’re still half-dreaming when you finally turn the handle and open the door, squinting against the sunlight streaming in from the hallway.

Joelle stands there beaming, a small box of donuts held up like a prize, her eyes sparkling with energy— a vivid contrast to your groggy state. “Ta-daaa!” she says, flipping open the box. “And there’s iced coffee waiting in the kitchen. Don’t say I never spoil you.” Despite the haze of sleep, you smile, following her to the kitchen. “Donuts and coffee? I love you so much.”

You settle in at your small dining table as she nudges a donut, frosted in your favorite color and covered with sprinkles, toward you. “This one’s yours.” she says, watching as you take a bite. You chuckle, mouth half-full. “What’s with the royal treatment? Are you buttering me up to tell me you’re moving out?” Joelle laughs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “No, but... I did make a little move of sorts last night. You might have a couple missed texts from a certain someone awaiting a response.”

Thoroughly suspicious now, you head back to your room, reaching for your phone to scroll through notifications that piled up during Do Not Disturb mode. Emails, Instagram updates, messages… Among the usual chaos and random alerts, one stack of notifications stands out—three texts from a number you don’t recognize.

(2h ago) xxx-xxx-xxxx: hey, y/n xxx-xxx-xxxx: it’s schlatt xxx-xxx-xxxx: i got your number from ted from joelle, hope that’s okay

Your stomach flips.

Oh. Oh my god.

You walk back into the kitchen to face Joelle, who smiles sheepishly. "Ted mentioned he thought Schlatt might regret not getting your number. I just… gave him a little nudge to make it happen."

You blink, still processing what she just said. Joelle’s expression shifts to looking genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry if that was too much, but from what I saw and what I heard from Ted, you two were totally hitting it off at the bar last night. It seemed like a missed opportunity if I didn’t.” You’re torn between being mildly annoyed and unexpectedly flattered. “All i did was spill a drink in his lap.” you mutter, still staring at the texts from Schlatt.

Joelle leans forward in her chair. “Well, clearly it was something more than that to him. And now you’ve got a chance to find out what. So… are you going to reply, or are you just going to leave him hanging?”

You glance back at the messages on your phone, the words “hope that’s okay” echoing in your mind. The temptation to text him back was strong, but your heart races at the thought of it.

“Do you really think I should?” you ask, unsure whether to be thrilled or terrified. “Oh absolutely.” Joelle says with an enthusiastic nod. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You take a deep breath, the phone in your hand suddenly feeling heavier than it should. The last thing you need is to come off as too eager or weird, but at the same time, there’s a part of you that’s excited over the idea of picking up where the night left off with Schlatt.

After composing yourself, you type out a response and save his number.

you: oh hey! yeah, that’s totally okay, no worries :)

You hit send, your heart still racing as you set the phone down. For a moment there’s only silence, the sound of your and Joelle’s breathing along with the distant buzz of the city outside your window providing a strange comfort. You can’t help but recall your interactions with Schlatt from the bar last night– he was charismatic and funny, with just the right amount of playful arrogance that made it clear he was teasing in good fun. Not to mention he was absolutely gorgeous— those broad shoulders, those warm brown eyes…

What was he feeling right now? Is he nervous? Is he as intrigued by you as you are by him?

Just then, your phone buzzes again, jolting you from your thoughts. Joelle cheers. “Aaah! See, he already texted you back!”

Schlatt: awesome. Schlatt: how are you? Schlatt: hungover?

You smile, shifting in your chair as you glance at Joelle, who beams at you in return. The conversation with Schlatt picks up effortlessly, flowing just like it had the night before.

You: i’m good! hangover’s looming a bit, but it’s not enough to keep me in bed, LOL You: joelle woke me up with donuts You: you?

Schlatt: damn. some house guests i have, i didn’t wake up to donuts. Schlatt: i’m good though, i don’t really get hungover

You: oh. lucky you, i guess 😒

Schlatt: yeah, guess so 🫅

You: 🙄 You: anyways…

Schlatt: anyways... what? got anything fun planned for today?

You: honestly, not really. might go for a walk, maybe catch up on some work stuff. nothing exciting.

Schlatt: sounds like a solid plan. i’m doin the same, stayin out of trouble for once.

You: yeah, right. I think we both know that’s not true

Schlatt: fair point. i’ll probably end up in brooklyn robbing a bodega at gunpoint for youtube content

You: oh wow. willing to die for your craft, i respect it

Schlatt: you know it

You: well, enjoy your trouble then. i’ll be over here trying to be a responsible adult

Schlatt: responsible adult? sounds boring

You: yeah. definitely boring.

Schlatt: well maybe we gotta find you a new hobby then. you have an office job, that shit’s depressing

You: hey, it’s not thaaaaat bad

The use of "we" in his message sends a strange flutter through your chest. It feels casual, but there’s something about it that makes your heart beat a little faster.

You set your phone down, glancing over at Joelle, who’s barely holding back her grin. "What?" you ask again, half-laughing. She leans back in her chair, clearly enjoying the moment. "Just enjoying the show. It’s cute, you know, how you’re trying to play it cool." You roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips gives you away. “Don’t give me that look,” she teases. “It’s obvious you’re into him. No need to pretend otherwise.” You take a deep breath, leaning against the table as you glance back at your phone. The message from Schlatt still lingers on the screen, his playful challenge hanging in the air. You're not sure why, but something about this feels different, more than just a random flirtation or passing interest.

"Okay, fine," you say, breaking the silence. "Maybe I am a little into him. But I’m not jumping into anything, alright?" Joelle raises her hands. "I'm not entirely suggesting any jumping. But, just so you know, I think he’s got potential." You sigh, trying not to smile at her overzealous enthusiasm. "You’re terrible, you know that?" She shrugs innocently, shit eating grin plastered on her face. "If by terrible you mean ‘helping you get with the potential man of your dreams’, then yes, I do know that."

Your phone buzzes again, snapping you back to the conversation at hand. You glance down at the screen, and a small grin tugs at your lips.

Schlatt: yeah. “that” bad. Schlatt: i’m taking this as a challenge. I could totally make responsible adulthood a little more interesting

Your heart skips a beat. You glance at Joelle, who’s already reading from the seat next to you, waiting for your reaction. Without thinking, you type a response and hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

You: yeah i bet. let’s see what you’ve got

Joelle lets out a small cheer, clearly thrilled by your response. "Look at you, taking the plunge." she says, a teasing tone in her voice.

You glance at your phone one more time, wondering if you just made a huge mistake—or if, maybe, it would be the start of something amazing.

⭑

The rest of your weekend flew by all too fast. The texts from Schlatt come more often now, slipping seamlessly into the rhythm of your daily life. At first, you felt a little nervous, wondering if you were reading too much into it. But soon, you realized he wasn’t just texting you for the sake of it— he genuinely seemed interested, and you couldn’t help but feel the same. It’s not a constant barrage of texts, but there’s a steady stream; lighthearted banter, jokes about your attempts to be a ‘responsible adult,’ and more than a few playful digs at each other’s habits. The conversations flow easily, like you’ve known each other much longer than just a few days. The pressure to impress fades, replaced by something more natural— talking for the sake of talking, sharing small moments and mundane details. The kind of banter you’d have with a friend, but with a hint of something more beneath the surface. The casualness of it all makes you feel a little lighter, more at ease. There’s no pressure, no rush, just two people chatting about whatever comes to mind. You realize, somewhere between the light teasing and the late-night message exchanges, that you’ve gotten used to his presence in your day— his humor, his attention, the way he manages to make you laugh without even trying. It felt… right.

By Wednesday, the texting had become a part of your routine.

Your work day drags on until, finally, it’s time to clock out. You walk home through crisp autumn air, the fading sunlight casting a warm orange glow over the city, wrapping you in its familiar hum. The city you loved was alive, but in this moment, it felt peaceful— like you were in your own little world.

You had been home for about an hour when you heard the front door open. You turn to see Joelle, eyes wide with excitement, stepping in from work. "Y/N! Oh my god! I have news!" She kicks the door shut behind her, tosses her purse and jacket onto a dining chair, and plops down on the couch next to you. "Hi, first of all." she says, pulling you into a quick hug. "I hope you had a good day. Second of all, look!” She flips her phone around to show you a text she received from Ted.

TED<33: Hey! A bunch of work friends are here in NYC for a Twitch event and we thought it would be fun to throw a lil get-together for everyone at Schlatt’s place on Friday. We’d love it if you and Y/N came as well :)

You blink, surprised. "Oh wow.” Joelle nods, her excitement palpable. “I know, right?”

Your heart flutters in your chest thinking about seeing Schlatt again, and you knew Joelle had been dying to spend more time with Ted. How could you refuse? You take a deep breath, trying to mask the sudden rush of excitement that floods your chest. "Sure, why not?" you say, a smile beginning to form on your face.

Joelle grins, practically bouncing in her seat. "Yes! I knew you’d say yes!" She leans in, volume dropping. "At least I was hoping you would, ‘cuz I may have already started mentally picking out an outfit. No pressure, but I’m ready to turn heads. And by heads, I mean Ted’s head."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I’ll try to keep up with you."

As Joelle practically skips off to her room to sift through her closet, you find yourself glancing at your phone. All of your messages with Schlatt are still fresh in your mind, and the idea of seeing him again makes your stomach flip in a way you can’t quite explain. It’ll be fine– It’s just a party, right?

You let out a breath, shaking off the nerves as you pick up your phone and type out a message to him.

You: so You: a party, huh?

You get a reply within minutes.

Schlatt: stupid fuckin ted doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, i was gonna invite you myself Schlatt: but yeah. I figured it would be nice to invite all my buddies over while they’re all in ny Schlatt: you comin’?

You: oh yeah, i’ll be there You: joelle wouldn’t go without me, and how could i deny her the chance to see ted again?

Schlatt: god dude he never shuts up about her

You: yeah she never shuts up about him either You: it’s cute tho

Schlatt: yeah. “cute” Schlatt: more like makes me wanna rip my skin off

You: jealous?

Schlatt: hardly.

You: uh huh, sure You: just admit it, you’re secretly a softie

Schlatt: no chance in hell

You: if you say so! You: anyway. what’s the predicted vibe for this party

Schlatt: probably just a bunch of youtubers getting drunk and being loud, you know the usual Schlatt: but i’m sure it’ll be fun

You: oh wow, sounds like a blast You: honestly i’m a little nervous to be around so many ppl i don’t know, but at least i’ll have a good excuse to drink, LMAO

Schlatt: that’s the spirit.

You: what time should we be there?

Schlatt: official time 8 but u can show up whenever, ted will probably text you guys 20 times before then asking when you’re coming though, lol

You: he’s funny. You: well, guess i’ll see you friday at 8?

Schlatt: hell yeah.

Setting your phone down, you smile. You’ll be seeing him again, in person, and that thought has you feeling unexpectedly giddy. You wonder what it’ll be like—if the easy banter you have over text will translate to the real thing. On top of that, there’s the thought of being around so many new people you’ve never met, adding a layer of nerves you can’t quite shake. But maybe it’s better not to overthink it. It’s just a party, and it’s just Schlatt.

"Just Schlatt." you think, the words echoing in your mind. If you’re honest, it’s starting to feel like so much more than just Schlatt.

The two days leading up to the party felt like an eternity, anticipation building up in your stomach like a ticking time bomb of nerves. By Friday afternoon, you were practically buzzing in your seat at work, waiting for the time you could finally leave and start getting ready for the party. You’ve already checked your phone more times than you’d like to admit, hoping for another text from Schlatt that might ease the suspense, or at least give you something to laugh about— but you were met with radio silence. You assume he’s busy preparing to host, but that doesn’t stop your nerves from creeping in. To distract yourself, you turn to outfit options, sifting through your closet until you find something that feels just right—casual, but still nice, adaptable to whatever vibe the other guests might bring.

You’re in the bathroom just starting on your makeup when you hear the front door swing open and Joelle’s excited footsteps coming down the hall. “Hey, Jelly!” you call out, peeking through the cracked bathroom door. Joelle appears in the doorway, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Heyyy, love the outfit! You ready for tonight?” You smile, a tinge of nervousness peaking through. “I mean… I guess? Not like I really have a choice, right?” She grins. “Nope!”

⭑

Forty-five minutes later, you and Joelle are stepping out onto the sidewalk, feeling a rush of nerves as you take in the towering building in front of you– Schlatt’s apartment complex. “Damn, this place is faaaan-cy,” Joelle comments. She looks over at you, and you both share a nervous, excited glance. “Well,” she says with a shrug, already making her way toward the entrance. “Only one way to go from here!”

As you step into the elevator, Joelle glances down at her phone, re-reading a message from Ted. “Top floor, Penthouse 2B,” she reads aloud, eyebrows raised. “Seriously, how rich is this guy?” She nudges you playfully. “Guess you’ve hit the jackpot.” You roll your eyes, nudging her with a laugh. “Stop it.”

The elevator dings, and soon you’re stepping out onto the top floor. The hallway is quiet, softly lit and lined with plush, deep blue carpet. You turn right, leading to a sleek door marked with a plaque that reads:

PENTHOUSE SUITE | 2B

Joelle types out a quick text to Ted as you both approach the door. You take a steadying breath, exchanging a glance with her. “You ready?” She gives you a confident nod. “Hell yeah.”

You raise your hand to knock, but before you can make contact, the door swings open to reveal Ted himself, grinning wide.

"Heyyy, look who finally made it!" Ted booms. Behind him, the room hums with laughter, music, and lively conversation. Ted pulls Joelle in for a quick hug, telling her she looks great, and it’s great to see her again. When he turns to you, his face lights up with a playful smirk. "Well hey, Y/N.” he says, arms already open. You laugh, stepping in for a hug. "Hi, Ted." His enthusiasm is infectious, and thinking back to the bar, you can’t help but realize that this seemed to be typical Ted—friendly, warm, and definitely a hugger.

He steps back, still grinning, and gestures toward the lively scene behind him. “Come on in! I can take your jackets and bags if you want, we’re just tossing them in the closet down the hall.” Ted takes your things as you step inside and heads toward the hallway, leaving you and Joelle alone. You turn to her, shaking your head with a smile. "He’s such a goofball." Joelle leans in close, grinning. "Oh, I know. I need him. Bad." You roll your eyes. "You’re ridiculous." As you look away from Joelle and begin scanning the room, your eyes land on a familiar face.

Schlatt.

He’s completely absorbed in an intense game of beer pong, set up on a plastic folding table in the center of the living room between two couches. Dressed in black jeans and a pale green crewneck, his messy brown curls brushed against his forehead. For a moment, you’re frozen, watching him in the midst of the lively chaos around him. Looking at the lack of cups left on the table, you could tell the game was close. His focus is intense as he lines up to throw the ping-pong ball, eyebrows furrowed.

God, he was handsome. Intensely focused and entirely in his element, you feel yourself drawn to him, your stomach tightening with a mix of nerves and excitement just from being near him.

The moment is broken when the other person on his team, a guy in a black tank top with short light brown hair and an eyebrow slit, claps him on the back. “Let’s go big guy, sink it!” Schlatt rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Dude, i was trying to lock in and focus, and you totally fucked me up.”

You stifle a chuckle as the two of them start bickering, and after a moment, Schlatt takes the shot. The ball sinks into the cup, and he pumps his fist in victory. His teammate raises his hand for a high-five as the two guys on the other side of the table drink from the cup– Schlatt leaves him hanging. Then, his gaze shifts, and for a moment, your eyes lock. Flustered, you raise a hand, giving an awkward wave. A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he gives you a subtle wave in return.

Before you even realize it, Ted reappears, pulling your focus from Schlatt’s game. “Alright, guess I'm playin’ host while Schlatt is preocuppied, drinks anyone? We’ve got a ridiculous selection in the kitchen. Beer, tequila, whiskey, vodka, seltzers, literally whatever you want. I’ll be your bartender.” Joelle glances at you, then back to Ted. “Lead the way!”

You follow Ted through the crowded room, weaving past groups of people chatting and laughing, and head into the kitchen. He gestured grandly at the lineup of bottles and mixers on the counter. You scan the options, almost overwhelmed by the sheer variety. “What’ll it be?” Ted asks, leaning against the counter with a playful grin. You glance at Joelle, who’s already eyeing the tequila. “Shots?” she suggests, a mischievous glint in her eye. You laugh, nodding. “Why not?” Ted grins, grabbing three shot glasses and pouring generously. “These are gonna be strong. No complaints after.” You raise an eyebrow playfully as he hands it to you. “I think we can handle a little bit of tequila.”

The three of you clink your glasses together, and you down the shot. The liquor burns on the way down, but the warmth that follows is pleasant. You cough, laughing at Joelle’s exaggerated grimace as she shakes her head. “Smooth.” Ted says with a smirk. “You guys wanna do another?”

“Saving any of that for the rest of us?”

Your breath catches in your throat as you turn around to see Schlatt, running a hand through his hair as he enters the kitchen. He nods at the bottle in Ted’s hand. “Didn’t know we were going hard so early, not that i’m one to talk.” He raises the solo cup in his hand and shakes it, signalling that it was empty.

Ted shrugs, pouring another shot and handing it to Schlatt. “You and Lud win beer pong?”

“Of course we fucking won.” Schlatt shoots back, taking the glass from Ted. “Will and Hasan talk a big game, but they’re pretty dogshit.” He glances at you with a slight smile before turning to Joelle. “You’re Joelle, right? We haven’t officially met—I’m Schlatt.” She grins, nodding. “Yeah, nice to finally meet you!” “Hell yeah.” He raises his glass, and the four of you clink glasses. “Cheers.” he says before downing the shot, face immidiately scrunching up in disgust. “God, I always forget how much I fucking hate tequila.”

Ted and Joelle dissolve into their own conversation– something about a meme they had been texting about earlier, leaving you standing next to Schlatt in silence. You steal a glance at him, unsure of what to say, but he beats you to it. “So, you made it.” he says, folding his arms as he looks you up and down, playful confidence in his gaze. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” “Of course I did,” you reply, matching his smile. “I’m a responsible adult, remember? I follow through with my plans.”

“Right, responsible,” he says, shaking his head with a smirk. “That definitely explains why you’re here, at a party, which you specifically told me you were using as an excuse to drink since you didn’’t know anyone other than me, Ted, and your roommate.”

You feel a flush creep up your cheeks as he calls you out. "Okay, fair," you laugh, raising your hands in surrender. "But hey, technically, I am being responsible— I showed up with Joelle, I’m not drinking alone, and I know I’ll get home safe. That counts, right?" He leans one arm against the counter, smirk still in place. “Yeah, yeah, if you say so. Sounds like a fancy way to justify a night of poor decisions.” “Poor decisions?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “We’re just getting started. Who says any of them will be poor?”

“Oh, now you’re making me curious.” His voice drops slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “But really,” he shifts his weight, his eyes darting to the floor, then back up at yours. “It's nice to see you. In person, I mean. Good to know you weren’t just some drunken hallucination and I’ve actually been texting a real person all week.”

You smile, feeling the warmth in your cheeks deepen. “Yeah, it’s nice to see you too.” The two of you hold eye contact, and for a moment, the tension between you lingers, thick and unspoken. Unable to handle it any longer, you break the silence with a light laugh. “But who knows? Maybe I have been a drunken hallucination this whole time. You’re actually just talking to yourself in your kitchen right now.” He lets out a soft laugh, and you continue. “Oh I'm serious, everyone is staring– it’s super weird.”

He rolls his eyes with a grin. “Alright, alright. Now you’re pushin’ it.”

You both chuckle, the moment settling comfortably between you. Then Ted leans in, breaking the pause. “So, what’s next?” he asks, glancing between you, Schlatt, and Joelle. A cheer erupts from down the hall, likely from the latest beer pong game. Schlatt shrugs, nodding toward the noise.

“Wanna play the next round?”

← last chapter ⭑ next chapter →

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #jschlatt fanfic #chuckle sandwich fanfic #chuckle sandwich x reader #ted nivison fanfic #look of love rush of blood #:3

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luveline · 1 year ago

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Hi Jade! I wanted to request something with Prince Steve and his soulmate. I feel like we’ve started to see them warm up to each other but maybe we could see reader start to meet Steve’s friends and see that she’s got more people standing behind her? Like maybe Robin and Eddie teasing Steve about something embarrassing in front of her or I know she hasn’t shown up yet but I could totally see Nancy as like a lady in waiting/tutor to teach her all about proper manners but in the process she spills all these stories about Steve growing up?

thank you for requesting ♡ prince steve au fem, 1k

A knock at the door, an impatient huff. "Are you ready yet?"

"Come in, Steve."

He wedges into your rooms, a basket in his hands. "Why are you on the floor?"

"Can't tie my stupid shoes," you complain, dropping your hands down, knee pulled up, too warm for all the fuss.

Steve nearly drops the basket, he's that enthusiastic to help you out. He kneels by your feet and takes the laces of your shoes into his hands, pulling them tight, his eyebrows pinched tighter. "That okay?" he asks, pausing his loop.

"Yeah. Thank you."

"They didn't teach you how to tie your shoes back home? We need outreach immediately."

You laugh and lay back on the plush rug behind you. "It's the weird eyelets. You royals do everything weird. Like picnicking."

"So many points. These aren't eyelets, they're lace hooks. You're pretty much as royal as I am, or you will be in a matter of days. And," —he finishes tying your boot, pulling the other toward him with a small laugh— "Robin wanted a picnic. She's not royal. None of your points make any sense."

"You'll be a wretched husband."

Steve takes your hands and pulls you up into a sitting position. He doesn't let them go, transferring both into one so he has a hand free to straighten up your cardigan. "And you'll be a cherished wife."

Steve pulls you onto your feet. Together, you walk through the selenite halls of the palace to the prince's private gardens, where a gazebo the colour of the sky stands shading refreshments from the eager sun. Helping themselves to the hors d'oeuvres are a tall Eddie and a shorter partner in crime, Robin. Nancy lays out in the grass next to who you assume to be her boyfriend, a handsome guy with two books in his hands, still closed. He squints in the sun, waving as you and Steve approach.

"Hey!" he greets. "You're late."

"Don't get up," Steve jokes, waving back at him and Nancy, who's barely lifted her head. "Not like I'm anyone important."

"Very, very hard to find you important when you're wearing shorts," Eddie says.

Steve shrugs. "She likes them."

You realise belatedly and with horror that you're she. How does he know you like his nice shorts? Either way, his indifference so long as you like them makes you flush, leaving his side in search of a cold drink to drown yourself in.

"Did you bring the bat?" Steve asks Jonathan behind you.

"Hey, babe," Eddie says, offering you a glass cup set with pressed flowers in the sides, "you okay?"

"Is that lemonade?" you ask, pointing at one of the small water dispensers. Their glass shells shine with condensation, more ice cubes than liquid inside. It's a cloudy white with blood orange slices cut and garnishing the top, their juice seeping downward slowly.

"Sure is. Prince Stevie's favourite, as always. Don't know where the sudden love for oranges came from, do you?"

You've had a love for them since you got here and tried them for the first time. Oranges are expensive, and so the palace kitchen has them in abundance. Steve clearly noticed. "Wouldn't you know?" you ask. "Don't you choose his meals?"

"As if. I'm a glorified cleaning boy," Eddie says. He scoops a bagel covered in cream cheese and fresh cut salmon from a silver tray and takes a big bite. "Just stick around for the food."

"They won't let him back into the engineers workshop on account of his bad manners, he'll be a dishwasher forever," Robin says grandly, rounding the table to stand on your other side.

"Says you, lady's maid."

Robin was supposed to be a lady's maid. Sick gig, good pay, she had all the grades and none of the decorum, but Steve wouldn't let them get rid of her, and after an intense training program that taught her to wield a titanium blade longer than her arm as an extension of it, she was instated as his personal guard instead. They're all job hoppers —Nancy started as a lady's maid but now apprentices as a royal tutor, and her boyfriend worked for the palace's news room but now works under the sous chef.

You did anything you could to stay alive, and now your full time job is princess, so. You're not judging.

"What's Nancy's boyfriends name?" you whisper. "Jon?"

"Jonathan. I don't think anybody calls him Jon," Robin whispers back.

"She's lying. His name is Gordon." Eddie glares at Robin. "She's trying to trip you up."

A smack erupts through the air, chased by Steve's pleased whoop. "Yes! Baby, did you see that?"

"I'm not trying to trip you up," Robin says, "don't listen."

"She totally is."

"Baby?" Steve calls, yards away in the bluegrass, a bat held at his side. "Guys, stop harassing her. Jesus."

"We're not harassing her, Stevie, slow your roll. This is a common social phenomenon called teasing, maybe you've heard of it? You do it with friends," Eddie says, nudging your arm.

Friends, you think. Steve's looking at you, waiting for confirmation that you're alright. "I didn't see it, Steve. Do it again!"

Steve immediately jogs backwards, goading Jonathan into pitching another ball. He has a good arm, the ball soaring just right for Steve to curl back and send it wide across the green grass of the garden. It hits a long banner across the way, smack dab on its painted target as he'd aimed for, falling practically on top of the first.

It's an impressive arc. You clap your hands together and cheer, though the rules of this game escape you. You think it's supposed to be darts without sharp points, but you're more concerned with the lines of Steve's bicep as he rests the bat on his shoulder, his triumphant sun-kissed smile.

"Did you see that one, baby?" Robin asks.

"He's so impressive, isn't he?" Eddie adds, grinning.

Steve throws them the bird, his cheeks pink.

"That's an example of what not to do in a formal setting," Nancy says, her skirt moving like water as she puts her face in her hand, her elbow on her knee.

"You're getting good at this tutoring stuff," Jonathan says.

Steve meanders your way to beg a consolation hug (he puts his arm across your shoulder, muttering about mean friends and their unjust jokes). "They're the worst," he mutters, his hair brushing your ear, goosebumps erupting down your arms.

"I think they're nice," you say.

He hums in your ear. "You would. Wretched wife."

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months ago

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Chapter 3: Entangled Ambitions - A Pact Sealed in Royal Halls

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: reader's death, language

Genre: Isekai, Romance, Fantasy

Synopsis: Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

<- Previous Chapter l Next Chapter ->

Satoru’s heart stops beating for a moment, eyes widen at the harsh words you just spit at him. How would someone like you know about his powers? He was always keen to hide them, never used his abilities in the presence of someone apart from Suguru and his family. He doesn’t even know you that well. You, the daughter of Naobito Zenin. How on earth did you find out?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You clear your throat, nerves threatening to fail you. This is the only chance you have left. If Gojo Satoru doesn’t rethink his decision…No, there is no way you’ll die again.

“I am talking about your ability to manipulate the area around you freely, the fact that you can distort space. You are also able to create barriers and voids that nullify any incoming attacks, which makes you almost invincible in battle and is responsible for your great reputation as a fighter. But if your followers get to know about the real reason behind your skills…You know how great the fear of people with special powers is in this country, that all of them get executed. Not even Your Majesty will be spared from this.”

You are walking on thin ice. He is the prince, after all. So much higher in his rank that it would be easy for him to get you executed due to false accusations. But this might be the only card you have left, your last spark of hope. If Gojo Satoru won’t marry you, your father will let you get killed. And apart from that, this might be the only chance you’ll get to meet your favourite characters. What about Geto and Nanami? If Naoya and Gojo exist, they are definitely somewhere in this world as well. You are literally living the dream of every anmie and manga fan.

Well, except for the stinging fact that you call Naobito your father and Naoya your stinky brother.

“That are some heavy accusations you’re throwing at me, Lady (y/n). You know as well as I do that I could get you executed right on the sport for your unwise words despite the fact that you are a daughter of the Zenin family”, he replies.

The way he crosses his legs while smiling down at you arrogantly makes the urge to fall onto your knees and beg him for forgiveness grow louder and louder. But no, this is exactly what he wants. At the moment, all Prince Satoru does is playing and testing you. You can’t allow yourself to be messed with. After all, he has absolutely zero clue about what he is in your old world, that you actually died and reincarnated here. He definitely does know that your life depends on his mercy, though. And that your proposal benefits both of you.

“Why did you decide on marrying me in the first place? Was it because you fell in love with my portrait or rather because your family forced you to choose a wife and you thought I wouldn’t cause trouble because I’m a Zenin, because you considered I would urge to get away from my possessing family as soon as possible?”

Threatening him any further has no use. After all, Gojo is aware of the fact that you know about his hidden talent. Instead, you should focus on things you can actually prove, things that are obvious.

“You are a very loudmouthed young lady. I expected you to be more sublime. As a member of the famous Zenin family, you sure got taught etiquette and obedience from a young age, didn’t you?”

He can’t help himself. Just one look into your glimmering lavender eyes makes him provocative you even further. Of course, every little thing you said is true. Yes, your words are a serious threat on his way to the throne. Yes, his family does in fact urge him every single day to decide on a wife. Your proposal is the best solution for both of you, allows him to carry on with his unbothered life without the responsibility to satisfy his finance’s needs. But still…

“I couldn’t care less about my ancestry, Prince Satoru. All I care about is my own freedom”, you clarify, determination dripping from each and every pore of your face.

“And if you don’t decide on helping me, I have to find another gentleman who suits my requirements better.”

“Another gentleman? You are aware of the fact that I’m the prince, right?”

Out of all the arguments you brought up in this conversation, this one is the one that bugs him the most. Out of some strange reason, the sheer thought of you getting promised to another man doesn’t sit right with Satoru.

“As a prince, you are far above my status anyway. If it weren’t for politics and the reliability when it comes to the advanced weapon technology of my family, I wouldn’t even be considered as your fiancé”, you argue in all seriousness.

“What if I don’t allow you to marry another man?”

“Then I will find my ways to do so.”

“Fine, I will propose to you at the ball this weekend.”

Wait…what? After all the arguments, the discussions and the stinging fact that he stares at you with narrowed eyes, he actually agreed on it? Just when you’re about to thank him and leave, he gets up and opens his full mouth.

“But I want to re-arrange the conditions to suit my needs as well.”

Your pounding heart almost stops inside of your chest. For a moment, you just sit there and stare at him plainly like an idiot. Gojo Satoru, having conditions? This definitely doesn’t sound appealing at all. But do you really have another chance? It might be true that you are able to find another gentleman, the anger of your father will carry on, though. And who knows if he wouldn’t kill you even if you marry another wealthy man. No, this engagement is your best and eventually only option.

“What conditions are we talking about, precisely?”

“Once a week, I am allowed to present you as my fiancée in a way I will decide on my own. As the prince and future ruler of this country, I need to reflect a strong relationship with my future queen to the outside. It has to be credible. Everyone must think that we are deeply in love with each other, Lady (y/n).”

Shivers run down your spine before you’re able to stop them. Just one look into his blue thirsty eyes…This man won’t touch you even in your sleep. Doesn’t he have multiple young women just waiting for a chance to hit on him? Playing his wife for an additional day of the week. How wasteful, considering that you’ll never be more than his fiancée, that this engagement will get cancelled the minute it doesn’t benefit both of you anymore.

“I will fulfil my role over the span our engagement last and accept your addition, Prince Satoru.”

“Great! Now that this is out of the way, let me tell you one last thing.”

Before you’re even able to react any further, he grabs your arm and pulls you close. For a moment, you forget how to breathe, your nose tingling by the exquisite scent that radiates from him. You actually never wondered about the way he smells. But now that he is so close you would be able to touch him, so close that you can feel his breath brushing over the bare skin of your face, heat begins to crawl up your spine. Suddenly you feel like fainting, the immense presence of him standing this closely to you simply taking your breath away.

“If you decide on betraying me by telling anyone about my secret, I will execute you. There are no real feelings between us, I won’t even bat an eyelash.”

“First, make sure you keep your end of the bargain, Prince”, you bite back out of instinct, holding his gaze without any mercy.

Does he really think you’re scared of him? He might be Gojo Satoru, the honoured one, the strongest, the prince of this country. You might have been surprised by the way he grabbed you out of thin air. You are still (y/n), still you.

Instead of backing up, you take another step towards him and grab the collar of his elegant jacket. But you know all of his dirty little secrets, parts of his past and future. You are definitely no one to be messed with as well.

“And make sure you don’t disappoint me.”

You let go of him as sudden as you grabbed him, creating a safe distance between both of you by crossing the room and coming to a stand in front of the exit.

“Send me an invitation to the ball along with a pricy bouquet of lavender flowers. It was an honour to visit you, Your Majesty. I am looking forward to our next meeting.”

One last polite curtsy, one last elegant smile. But just when you’re about to call the waiter in order to open the door for you, it swings open by itself.

And your cheek clashes into something particularly hard.

“Oh no, I am beyond sorry My Lady! I wasn’t aware of your presence!”

That voice…You get greeted by a pair of the manliest hands you’ve ever seen, hands gliding up his definitely toned arms. He lifts you off the ground as fast as you stumbled onto his, arms holding you into place tightly.

“You must be Lady (y/n), what a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Sir Geto Suguru, the steward of Your Majesty.”

“S-Suguru?”

Your widen eyes focus on his face in an instant, heart almost beating out of your chest. All those times you admired his drawing, the way he acted so elegantly. The countless fanfictions you’ve read with this exact first meeting.

Only to end up with him in bed later on.

“That is my name”, the man in front of you replies along with a small laughter.

That smile. That oh so charismatic smile. And that manly smell, a mix of mint and leather. You force yourself to gift him with a smile and create a safe distance between both of you. So this is him, the best friend of Gojo Satoru. Even in this world, you can tell how close they are to each other.

Will it stay like this, though?

“I’m sorry, I must have hit my head a little too heart”, you comment, finally ripping your eyes away from his brown ones.

“Do you know each other?”, the firm voice of Prince Satoru interrupts.

A look into his face tells you that he isn’t amused by this sudden meeting at all.

“I’ve never seen Lady (y/n) apart from the portrait that was sent to you, Prince Satoru. But may I say, you look even more mesmerising in person.”

“Weren’t you about to leave when Sir Geto arrived, Lady (y/n)?”

Gojo smiles at you without his eyes, a cold glare decorating his face that is definitely supposed to intimidate you.

But instead of backing up, you take a risky step towards Geto Suguru and bow oh so sweetly.

“Oh Sir Geto, I don’t deserve your kind words. After all, it is you who is a feast for my eyes. No excuse me gentlemen, I still have lessons to attend. I hope we’ll meet each other again this weekend, Sir Geto. Have a nice week, Prince Satoru.”

Without gifting him another single look, you turn on your heel and walk out the door.

You did it. You convinced him to propose to you. But…is this really what you want? Is Gojo Satoru really what you want? Just the way he stared at you with arrogance dripping from each and every poor. Urgh, you fucking hate him. There’s no way to deny that he’s driving you over the edge. Why on earth does it have to be him? Why not Geto, what about Nanami?

Why does it have to be Gojo Satoru?

“She seems like a really nice young lady”, Suguru comments visibly amused while sitting in your former place.

“What your tongue, Suguru. She will me my fiancé after this week is over.”

Tags: @m0k0k0 @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @risuola @fire-loving-siren

@sunshine7queen @gatitam @kentocalls @hellkaiserinphoenix @skylarlyn823

@livmarauder @nothisispatrick300 @haileycannotcometothephonern @xstom @byakuya61085

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screenviolense · 1 year ago

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permanent starter call. for kitana / mortal kombat. liking this means you're interested in interacting with this muse and are willing to receive starters and asks from them. knowledge of the source material is never necessary but always appreciated.

#✦ ooc #✦ kitana k. * ic i am so much more than royal

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coffins-flowers · 20 days ago

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Day 5: realization

I can’t believe it’s ending and I still read only 1 prompt from femmescripter. I need free time. I’m writing my stories for hour or so because I can physically give only so much attention to it :’^(

Storytime (this time without sad sub-plot I promise):

(Bradley)

I admitted to myself I love you at the end of november, when while driving I saw you on pedestrian street. Angry, cold, unlike you. I’m glad I made you get into my car; when we sat on folded back seats and started eating and drinking, when we were covering eachother with blanket; you finally brightened.

”Why won’t you ask what happened?” I heard.

I never associated this question with genuine concern. It was always a mind play for me in my worst years. How to tell you that?

”Why would I? If you want say it yourself.” Bravo me.

”It’ll be nice if you’d ask. That would mean you at least care.”

Oh Max. Getting on my nerves already, I am too weak to fight.

”I don’t like that question.”

”That’s all?”

”That’s all.”

”Can I tell you this?”

”You can say anything.”

”Even that your older sister is hot as hell?”

”WHAT!?”

You… started laughing. Very, very loud. It was… pleasant, pretty.

”You should have seen your face! Hahahaha, Jesus man haha. How are you not blowing your brain out with our trio? Ahyuk”

My heart was about to escape my ribcage and run to you, my smile subconsciously appeared. I thought for a moment that maybe this is how love feels.

You calmed down. Looked at me with your onyx eyes and said a phrase I will always remember.

”So this is your honest smile? Maybe you should use it more often”

You made it even wider.

(Max)

How did you know I would agree to a date? Was it a wild card or you knew something I didn’t yet but now am sure of?

My thoughts were just like that before seeing your smirky face „Ice rink? I never even wore ice skates before. Is it like regular skating? Why I agreed to it? Why was I so excited on a word ‚date’? Are you just mocking me? Or maybe it’s genuine.” I’m still mad that it was probably you figuring my own self sooner than I did.

Ice was much more unstable than asphalt, my legs were melting and you just stood there.

”Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

”NO. Give me a second.”

What am I talking about? I’m barely standing and fighting for my life clinging onto barriers. I won’t admit I can’t ice skate, that I am scared. Ain’t no way.

”Ugh!” Oh no. Your voice full of irritation went through my spine. Don’t approach me, don’t approach me, don’t approach me… DAMMIT!

”Hold my hands”

”No, thanks. I’ll figure that ou-„ You bastard you grabbed me!

”Listen, shape your feet into V…”

”Ookay”

”See? You’re fine. I’m holding you, you are steady. It’s fine” Steady? It is anything but steady!

”Now. Pull dominant leg away and go to me. Just like skating”

”mhm” I’m moving forward, it’s fine, it’s fine. No! Hell it’s not! It’s not at all… wait, I feel your grip getting stronger.

”I’m here, don’t worry. Look at me and it’ll be fine” Why is your voice so calming? Not that I mind but… how are you doing that? Making me feel so safe?

We are moving forward, I start getting it. I can do this!

”Let me go”

”Max, I don’t think it’s good idea”

”C’mon. I will do it”

”As you wish~”

Heck yeah! I’m doing it. I’m great. It is great. It… it starts to get unsteable again. Oh no. OH NO. OH NONONONO ARGH-

I barely got caught, one millimeter further and I’d be on a ground. I feel like made of jelly.

”Hahahahaha! What were you saying? It’s not THAT easy princess hahaha”

Looking at you, laughing, holding me from that angle… oh cupid you really are cruel. I don’t think I’m ready for relationship.

”Are you alright Max?” Your ocean-blue eyes widened. That cloudy-sky, royal, deep blue looking at me. And your hair waving in a wind like a sea of weeds, with all the shades of a plane tree. Even your brows look stuning when you look at me all concerned. You are all mine at this moment and this is comforting like comfy bed after tiring day, like cold drink in summer heat, like… us seating in your car.

I changed my mind. I must be with you in a relationship.

#digital art #my art #fanart #art #an extremely goofy movie #bradley uppercrust iii #maxley #max goof #max x bradley #My sketch #maxley week #maxley week 2024 #my fanfic #my fanfiction

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diaryujin · 8 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: Sunghoon has never felt any spark in his heart, none of that silly love he’s read about in novels in his free time. No one interested him, and it wasn’t like his father, the king, would let him have friends, male or female, for fear of being betrayed or developing feelings for them. He lived a life of isolation, excited for nothing – neither the idea of being married to a pretty princess nor becoming the next ruler of the Park kingdom. He most certainly did not expect you, his new guard, to change all that. He did not expect you to brighten his days and light up his heart.

includes: death, murder, war/battle, attempted murder (kinda), breaking in, royal au, romanticized medieval setting of sorts, forced marriage/proposal, a lot of time skips so it moves somewhat quickly, brief mention of a toxic ex, death by illness, joking mention of jumping off a balcony, blood, wounds, denial of death kinda, graves, lmk if i missed anything!

genre: angst

pairing: prince! sunghoon x guard! fem! reader

word count: 8.1k (woah)

taglist: @kflixnet @kpopslays @jvjsssnaa a/n: it’s finally here! i sacrificed sleep for this and i do not regret it at all. this fic has two milestones for me - being my longest fic + a fic i’m kinda proud of. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it <3

PLEASE REBLOG/COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS FIC 🫶

Sunghoon was reading over some papers pertaining to the kingdom’s matters when he heard a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

One of the guards came in, before bowing upon seeing him.

“Sire, his Majesty wishes to see you.”

He nodded and set the papers in a neat stack. He then put them in a drawer and locked it for security. He then stood up and followed the guard, maintaining a neutral expression.

His mind was working much faster than normal though.

His father was very strict, and the slightest mistake meant an extremely harsh lecture. He flicked through his memories, trying to remember what he could have done wrong, and what he should say as his apology.

He pursed his lips as a thought crossed his mind - was his recent trip to the colder regions made known to his father? He had gone for administrative work, but he couldn’t resist spending some time there ice skating, which the king always considered useless since it benefited only the person skating, not the country. He had done his best to keep it under wraps, but maybe one of the guards reported this to the king. Damn it.

He mentally slapped himself for using such crude language. Those were the words of peasants and did not suit a prince like him. Holy moly…buckling barnacles, great heavens…such lengthy words to express frustration, he thought. ‘Damn it’ was only two syllables.

As he snapped out of his reverie, he entered the Throne Room. His father was seated on the grand throne at the end of the airy space. The seats where the ministers sat were empty. Court was always in the morning, and it was probably lunchtime by now - the prince wasn’t sure.

He stood a few feet away from his father. The guard bowed and left, and Sunghoon made eye contact with the old man in front of him. He didn’t seem angry, so the younger relaxed a bit, letting out a sigh.

“Why have you called me here, father?”

“I’ve received some proposals from other kings. They’ve sent me paintings of their daughters. A lovely selection of princesses, I must say.”

Sunghoon had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Father, I’ve already told you this. I am not ready for marriage and I am not interested in this topic.”

“Yes, but it’s good to start early. Maybe you’ll change your mind after-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Father, but why have you actually summoned me?”

The king narrowed his eyes at his son but didn’t say anything more about the topic.

“Well, I’ve decided to get you a personal guard. There have been many threats of attacks on the palace, so it’s better to take this precaution.”

“Interesting. Will he be with me all the time or-”

“She.”

“What?”

“Your guard is a female.”

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. His father? Hiring a woman? As his bodyguard? What if he-

“Are you serious?” “Yes. She is very capable and I’m sure she will protect and serve you well. I trust you to keep your relationship with her strictly professional.”

It wasn’t like he knew how to have a non-professional relationship with anyone outside of his family anyway.

“Yes, Father. Will she be with me at all times?”

“Indeed she will, except for when you are sleeping. At that time, she will stand outside your door and guard you.” “What about her food and sleep?”

“That is not your concern.”

“But-”

“Silence!”

He immediately bowed his head slightly as a sign of remorse for stepping out of line. This was going to be interesting, he thought. He had little to no interaction with women outside of his mother and sister, and the small talk he made with princesses and duchesses of other kingdoms was always awkward. Now he was having someone of the opposite gender, a woman, watching over him nearly 24/7.

He slowed down his train of thought. Why was he thinking like a teenage boy ogling over a girl? He was the crown prince, he was better than that. It was going to be a new experience, that was all.

“May I meet her now?”

“Of course. She’s arriving as we speak.”

Just then, the door opened, and you entered, a male soldier on either side. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but nothing came out of it.

He was having a cultural shock of sorts. All the women he had met were all dainty, graceful and poised - the epitome of perfection. You, on the other hand, had an air of authority about you — rough and firm. A few scars were on your face, probably from battle. You bowed the full 90 degrees, and he could only respond with a small nod.

Oh fuck, you were gorgeous.

And he used foul language again. Stupid Sunghoon, he reprimanded himself.

He didn’t take back what he said, however. Your beauty wasn’t the type written in books or sung in ballads, but it had to be known to the world, somehow. He was almost tempted to write one himself.

Hold on, why was he thinking all this? His father had just told him to not think anything about you that crossed the lines of professional, and thinking about how pretty you were was not within those lines.

“This is your new personal guard, Y/N.”

You came over to him and bowed again, although at a smaller angle than before.

“N…Nice to meet you, Y-Y/N.”

Did he just stutter?!

“It is an honor, my prince. I swear to serve you to the best of my abilities.”

“I’m sure you will.”

He managed a small, formal smile, looking completely pleasant and unfazed.

Which he very much was not. He wanted to jump off the nearest balcony when you said ‘my prince’. He didn’t know why - you weren’t the only one who addressed him in that manner. You might’ve even learned it from someone in the palace, so why was he so hot and bothered with the way you said it?

“Your duties start today, guard.”

“Yes, your Majesty. I will not let you down.”

He was going crazy. You were just his new guard. Nothing less, nothing more. He would just have to rein in his thoughts and get it all together. Not a difficult task at all.

As you stood behind him as he walked through the kingdom’s streets a week later, he seemed to keep a little distance from you, which was unsafe. Anything could happen within a few meters.

“My prince, you must slow your pace.”

He turned his face to look at you as he stopped walking.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“There’s a gap between us, and anyone could attack you with that.”

“Ah. I see. In that case…you can walk next to me. Or something.”

You stood next to him now. He quickly looked at the fruits a vendor was selling, trying his best to avert his gaze so that you wouldn’t see his reddening cheeks. It was unknown to him as to why he was so flustered. You were only doing your job, and that was it.

“Our kingdom seems to produce good crops.”

“Indeed they do, my prince. The farmer and the cultivators work very hard. It always seems to go unnoticed for some damn reason, though.”

He heard the angry tone in your voice and the curse word you said. This seemed to be a sore topic for you. He was curious, so he decided to ask more.

“What do you suggest, then?”

“We export more crops so that they get more revenue and in turn, they get paid as well. Increase the demand.”

You shrugged before turning your attention to a little kid who was clinging to your leg. You leaned down and patted his head, smiling a bit. The kid laughed and ran away. Sunghoon watched this interaction with interest and it dawned upon him that you cared about the people and their welfare, like a good ruler.

Wait, why was he thinking about you being a ruler? You were only a soldier, and with the hierarchy now, there wasn’t much chance you could become more.

It did make him wonder, however, what you would do if the people rebelled. He shook his head, not wanting to think so dark. Your suggestion was smart, though. It made more sense the more he pondered over it. He’d mention this to the old man and see what he’d say.

“Shall we move on, guard?”

You stood up properly before nodding.

“Yes, my prince. Apologies for slowing you down.”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing of the sort. Come, let’s go.”

You both continued your stroll and for some reason, his heart was beating very unnaturally. He only had this issue when he was agitated, but there was no reason for him to be scared now, so why was this happening?

It had only been two months since you became his personal guard, yet you were his closest and most trusted friend. He took all your ideas seriously and told them to the king who somehow accepted them, and called him ‘ingenious’ for supposedly coming up with them. He hated taking false credit, but he knew that he couldn’t tell his father that you were the mastermind of them all — he would then question Sunghoon as to why he was talking to them in the first place, which would lead to you being removed from your post and replaced with a boring male soldier.

He didn’t want to lose you, not when he finally found a change in his monotonous life, someone to brighten his dull days, someone to call a friend, even though it was only known to the both of you and no one else. He couldn’t bear to have you gone.

He was sitting underneath a tree, looking up at the sky in the comfort of the gardens reserved for his family and visitors alone. His father never came here out of his own accord - he always considered it a waste of time. His mother was in her room, and her sister was in another kingdom discussing alliances. This was a moment very rare, just you and him, with no one to interrupt or catch you two slacking.

You were sitting next to him, only a few inches away. The wind was blowing gently on his face. He closed his eyes and smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Your presence next to him was oddly comforting. He opened his eyes again, turned his head, and looked at you, wanting to ask you something.

“Guard, you know how I always give your suggestions to the king and how he always says ‘I’ did a good job thinking about them?”

Your face tightened the same way it did every time he took credit for your ideas in front of his father. He sighed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I wanted to apologize for that.”

You tilted your head at him, clearly not understanding two things - why he was suddenly saying sorry, and how you doing that simple thing made him go insane. You took over him, body and soul. All he could think of when he tried to sleep was you. It was just two months. Two months, and he was already attached to you. He was convinced, however, that it wasn’t love or anything stupid like that. No, it was simply him forming a close connection to the first person who cared about him. Not everything was romantic affection. He had never tasted this emotion, obviously, but he’d say that he knew enough about it to confirm this wasn’t it.

“Why now, my prince? I’m sorry- I just didn’t expect you to, y’know…actually apologize. Never met a royal who’s done so. They’re all usually stuck-up snobs who think their shit is worth the entire kingdom.”

He snorted at that. It wasn’t like you were wrong, most of the royals he met were indeed very arrogant. He didn’t dare anything about it though, simply doing his best to not behave like them.

“It’s not right of me to take credit for something I don’t even have the brain for. I don’t mention your name for your security. If my father knew I was talking to you about matters like these, then…”

He made a motion of him cutting his own throat, complete with the sound effect. You grinned a bit, which was enough for him to be over the moon, but then you laughed. Not just a ‘teehee’ or a ‘haha’ - an actual, proper laugh. His heart swelled, maybe his jokes didn’t suck that much. Your laugh was indescribable. It was a delightful sound to listen to. It was short, but he wanted to hear it every day at least once for the rest of his life instead of those ballads that were sung in the court all the time.

The way your eyes formed crescents, the way your face was half in the light and half in the shadow, the way the wind put an orange leaf in your hair like it was an accessory - it was making him sick in a good way. He rarely saw you smile, let alone laugh like this. He knew that you had to keep your expression serious all the time - all the soldiers had that training - and this was a proud moment for him to see you loosen up. He couldn’t help the small smile on his own face.

“My prince, is he really that harsh? I’m aware that he is super damn strict to us soldiers, but that’s expected since we have to be toughened up to protect the land.”

His smile faded before he shook his head in agreement.

“I’d say so. It’s for my good- I am the next in line, after all.”

“I don’t think forcing your child to have no friends is how you raise him to be king. He won’t know how to have proper social interactions.”

There you were again, hitting the mark accurately with your observation. He sucked at interacting with other people. Slowly, he was starting to dislike his father more. The faults he never saw in him earlier were becoming visible, the saint-like image he had of the king since childhood fading away. Was this meant to happen? He wasn’t sure.

“Right. I’m living proof.”

You shook your head in alarm.

“Oh shit- please don’t be offended by my idiotic statement, my prince…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, really-”

He chuckled at how you were panicking and made a motion with his hand for you to calm down.

“It’s okay. I didn’t take it that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He saw your body relax as he rested his head against the bark of the tree again. He gazed at the sky, eyes fixated on the clouds and the way they moved in the direction of the breeze. Two questions lingered in his mind, and his mouth suddenly blurted one out.

“Do you ever sleep?”

It was random, sure, but he had to know. He was concerned for you. He never saw you leave his side, except for when he was asleep, and he already knew what you did then. You were still staring at him, but he didn’t notice.

“I do. I’m a normal person, my prince, I can’t function without food and rest. That’s impossible.”

“When?”

You let out a slight laugh at his curiosity, and his heart started pounding faster again.

“You don’t notice, do you? That means I’m performing the stealth part of my job well. When you’re in the dining room or a meeting surrounded by the best soldiers. That’s when. I also don’t stand watch for you every night. I alternate with another guard.”

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in understanding. He didn’t notice it at all, which meant that either you were a master of stealth, as you said, or he was just blind. It was most likely the former since he had no doubt in your abilities.

“I see. I was very worried for you, honestly.”

“I’m honored that I was an object of your concern, my prince.”

He scoffed at your slightly surprised expression.

“Of course, I would. You’re my personal guard, what reason is there for me to treat you inhumanly?”

That stupid fucking slip of his tongue.

Shit, he just cursed.

Damn it, again.

His tutor and family would go crazy if they could read his thoughts.

Of course he had to refer to you as his, like you were property. Of course he had to emphasize on that word as well. You were making him loosen up too much. It shouldn’t have happened, not at all. He couldn’t continue like this, what if he accidentally cursed in front of people? He would never be heard of again.

“I’d say I had expected that, but you’re different from other royals, so not really.”

“I understand. Also, you don’t have to call me ‘my prince’ when we’re alone. Just Sunghoon is enough.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment.

“My prince, I wouldn’t dare to-”

“Really guard. It’s fine.”

“But his Majesty-”

“He doesn’t have to know. Our secret.”

“If you say so…it’ll take me time to get used to calling you by your name, princ- I mean, Sunghoon.”

“Already getting there.”

“I guess so. In that case, you can call me by just my name. No need for ‘guard’.”

“Your wish is my command, Y/N.”

This was new. Not referring to someone by their title was disrespectful. He learned from a ripe young age that if he didn’t call someone by their title, he could end up with his head on a guillotine block in some places. Were you seriously making all his long years of education unravel? Silence fell upon the two of you before he spoke up again.

“What do you think love is like?”

You must’ve been taken aback, and he expected to see such an expression on your face. Instead, when he stole a glance at you, it was something else. Wistful? Longing? He couldn’t name it exactly.

“Books don’t give it justice. Neither do ballads. It’s…more than that.”

He was intrigued by your response. He raised an eyebrow, signalling you to continue.

“Oh? You’ve been in love before?”

You stared at him, a sad smile forming on your lips, a look flashing in your eyes. One of remorse, he recognized.

“Yeah. It was depressingly…beautiful.”

His chest tightened at your words for some reason.

“Heartbreak?”

“Kind of. We fought a lot…our personalities were very different. Then when we finally reconciled…he died. An illness took him away.”

Your eyes were filled with so much hurt, it almost made him cry. This was his first time seeing you emotional, vulnerable, and while he was honored that you trusted him enough to show you this side of yours, he wondered how much you were hiding away. All he wanted was to protect you so that you would never have to go through something as painful as that. He made a resolve to make sure that he was never the cause of the agony in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine. It was just- unexpected. It’s been a year anyway.”

“I hope this doesn’t bring back memories you buried, but…how would you describe love?”

You rested your chin on your palm, thinking for a bit.

“Love isn’t only about the physical signs. For me, love is always wanting to be by someone’s side, being so head over heels for them that even the littlest things like…I don’t know, something stupid, makes you remember them. It’s being their biggest supporter, but also telling them when they’re wrong. Love is wanting to keep them safe from all the bad in this world. It’s when even the simplest thing they do brightens your day, like a smile or a small act of kindness. Love is when you put their needs and wants above everything and everyone else. There’s obviously more, but that’s my personal experience.”

Holy moly. Sunghoon was in love.

He was in love. That emotion many desired to feel at least once. All his previous notions and confidence about it being platonic flew out the window. He very clearly did not learn enough about this feeling. He didn’t know whether he wanted to be happy that he could say he had loved once in his life, or scream in frustration that he fell for someone out of his league and not some princess who he was supposed to want like this.

God, he hated himself.

“Pri- Sunghoon, are you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He couldn’t let you know, he was a hundred percent sure that you didn’t feel the same. Plus, he was the prince, and if you both were caught, it would mean bad for him and catastrophic for you.

“I’m fine. Come, let’s go. We might get caught if we stay any longer.”

He stood up immediately. You were confused but followed his orders. What he said, you obeyed.

It had been eight months since you became his personal guard, and half a year since he realized that he was in love with you. He tried to distance himself, but one look or word from you and his resolve faltered. He was so deep in this pit, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to dig deeper or climb out. He wanted you to stay away and he also loved the way you destroyed every single one of the walls he built around himself subconsciously.

He matured, and he was no longer the shy boy who didn’t know how to talk to someone of the opposite gender. He was a confident and charming crown prince now, the man of many’s dreams. You were the only one on his mind though.

His father was now eager to get him married off, and he had to comply with his wishes, He was no longer the king who served the people anymore - he was corrupted, only thinking about power. Sunghoon did his best to undo the damage inflicted on the population, but the situation was getting tense, and he knew it. Rebels were raising their heads and it was his job to keep them in check. It was difficult, but you helped him through it.

Presently, he was sitting in the dining room with his family, the king, queen, princess, and officials of the Hwan kingdom. This was the proposal his father liked the most because the Hwan kingdom was rich in resources, and this alliance hidden as a marriage would give the Parks access to those coveted precious stones. He was hoping, however, that the other king would say no for some reason and he’d be free.

He had no interest in the princess, however. She was too boring for him. They had zero common likes, and the only thing they related to each other on was the struggles of being next in line. This was probably the worst match he had ever met. She seemed like she wanted this much less than he did. She was at least trying, he had to give her that.

You stood behind him on his right side. He so desperately wanted to turn around and see your reaction to all this. Your face had to have no expression now, obviously, but you both shared secret looks with each other in odd situations, and he was sure you’d find this amusing. The chatter across the table died down suddenly, and all the attention was on the two kings in the room.

“We’ve agreed on this marriage. Prince Sunghoon and Princess Hyeju are now betrothed!”

Sunghoon’s hands, which were tapping the table, stilled. He froze in shock, every voluntary muscle in his body stopping movement.

No, this couldn’t happen.

This was a nightmare, a terrible dream. He pinched his thigh underneath the table and ended up proving to his dismay that he was wrong.

This was the worst day of his life.

His father droned on about the details of the wedding. He tuned it all out. He tilted his head just a little to see your face and noticed that you were gripping your spear much tighter than necessary. You knew that he didn’t want this, not at all. Maybe you were angry on his behalf.

He couldn’t do anything about this, however. This was just his fate, and he resigned to it immediately.

The meeting ended, and everyone, including Sunghoon, stood up and exited the room. You followed him as he went straight to the gardens to clear his head. His family would be occupied with entertaining the guests and making more plans, so it was just you and him. Again.

He sat in his usual spot underneath the same tree. He buried his face in his hands, frustrated. He heard the sound of you sitting down next to him, before feeling your hand lightly grip his shoulder.

“Hey, Sunghoon?”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine.”

“I know how much you don’t want this. Trust me, I don’t want it either.”

The second sentence was uttered in a more quiet voice, and he moved his hands away from his face to look at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Your lips formed a thin line, your body language making it clear that you were saying this with hesitation.

“I don’t want you to marry her.”

You removed your hand from his shoulder. You looked down at the grass, fresh and green from the new spring season.

“Why? I mean- other than me not wanting it personally, there’s no reason you should hate it…this is an amazing opportunity for the people and the kingdom! We will prosper-”

“Fuck the people and the kingdom- I want you, dumbass.”

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

“What…do you mean.”

“I love you really badly. That’s what I mean.”

He couldn’t believe it. You, the very person he always desired desperately, his forbidden fruit, loved him back? Wanted him? This wasn’t real. He must’ve been knocked out after the marriage announcement and slipped into a pleasant dream.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t know what to expect, but you grabbing his face and crashing your lips on his was the farthest from his vague idea of what might happen.

It lasted for a few seconds before you pulled away suddenly. You noticed his dazed expression and started to panic.

“Shit, shouldn’t have done that, please don’t kill me, I-”

Your voice snapped him out of his haze before he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you in for another kiss. His hand tucked one strand of hair behind your ear and you melted into the action, calming down instantly. He was so gentle, so careful, he was holding you like you were a delicate object that was to be treated with utmost care at all times. When you both parted, his face wore a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling like stars.

“I feel the same.”

“Yeah, it was obvious.”

He chuckled at your comment, before frowning.

“You know this is dangerous, right? We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders slumped at his words, knowing that he was completely correct.

“I do. I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I just didn’t…know how to tell you.”

He shook his head. To him, you could do no wrong. It was his fault. He should have gotten rid of you so that he could nip the blooming flower in his heart from the bud. He shouldn’t have been such a coward.

“I understand what you mean now. I don’t know how to stop it, though.”

“That’s…fine. Just knowing you feel the same is enough for me.”

It wasn’t. Neither for you, neither for him, and you both knew that. The fact that he couldn’t be yours and you couldn’t be his simply because of both of your duties was like a nasty, sharp torn ledged in the soft flesh of his heart. You and him were not meant to be. Your romance was only a fantasy, to be never fulfilled.

“Precisely. This is all it’ll ever be.”

It was night. He had one week until his wedding with the Hwan princess, and he was dreading it. Seeing your face became unbearable for him sometimes — you reminded him that he had everything a commoner could only dream of, but even the poorest of poor could love and he couldn’t. He was ready to throw his entire life away and disappear with you, but his fear of what would happen next to the country held him back.

He stared out the window in his bedroom which gave him a perfect view of the private gardens. The place where it all started and ended. The moonlight shone on the trees and flowers, giving it a peaceful aura, different from the cheery one it had in the daytime. Even in the comfort of his silk night clothes and soft blankets, he was in a state of unrest. He wanted to run, wanted to be free, wanted, wanted, wanted. He lay down, resting his head on his pillow as he waited for sleep to find him while he closed his eyes. Thankfully, the night was kind to him, and he dozed off almost instantly.

Sunghoon was rudely woken up by you frantically shaking his figure, pleading with you to wake up. When he came to his senses, he heard alarms sounding in the palace and immediately understood that it was an emergency, although what might’ve exactly happened was beyond him.

“Y/N, Y/N, I’m up. What’s going on?”

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and slapping his face for good measure.

“Rebels. Come, we need to run.”

The first word was enough for him to be fully alert. He foresaw them coming, so it wasn’t a big shocker for him. He put on his slippers and looked at you with determination. He was actually trying to mask his fear, but you didn’t need to know that. You grabbed his arm and ran out of the room. He was a bit startled at your speed at first, but quickly matched your pace. When you both reached a corridor, you slowed down, wanting to be careful of surprise attacks.

“Hide your face to the best of your ability. I’m not sure if they’ll recognize you in non-prince clothes, but it’s better to be safe. They’ll aim for me instead since I have the palace uniform.”

His chest tightened. You were ready to give up your life for his. He knew that was protocol for all soldiers - royals over their own lives. He knew, but you were different. He didn’t want you to die, he couldn’t imagine a life without you. You were his oxygen, he’d suffocate if you were gone.

Suddenly, he noticed a flash of light. He heard a whoosh and he saw the way your hair moved in the direction of the sound. He assumed it was a gust of air along with the lights of the palace shining weirdly, but then he looked at the wall in front of him and realized what it was - an arrow. It was embedded in said wall, and you had missed it by a hair’s breath. Literally. It had scratched your face, but other than that, you were fine.

You pulled him down to remain on the floor, before you stood up and ran to the rebel that shot it, your hands gripping your sword tight. You engaged in combat with her. She was rather buff, and even though she only had a bow and an arrow holder on her, she was slowly gaining ground in the fight. She was blocking your thrusts with her bow, catching your moves with its string. She landed a harsh blow on your chest, and he gritted his teeth seeing your sharp flinch. He had to do something and fast.

He crawl-walked across the floor, making sure to stay unnoticed. He moved to stand behind the rebel before forcefully grabbing her neck. She was gagged, and the sudden lack of air caught her off guard. You took the opportunity and struck her in the heart, and he let go of her.

You both ran off, eager to get to the safe room specially built for situations like this. Barely some distance away, he raised his head, neck aching from the constant strain, when you suddenly pushed him to the ground and covered his mouth with your hand. He was about to protest, feeling kind of hot and bothered with his position, but then he decided against it. You definitely did this for a reason, and he could repress his feelings for a while.

Your head turned as you stared at a rebel passing by, praying he wouldn’t notice you both. He was blind to your movement thankfully, and as soon as he left, you got off of Sunghoon, pulled him up, and ran. You pushed the door of the safe room which was behind a cupboard open with your shoulder, and he then realized that he was the first one to reach. The door closed, and he glanced at you, relief and gratitude clear in his eyes.

You gave him a thumbs up and turned to leave to assist the other soldiers with getting the rest of his family to the room when he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You looked at him with confusion, and you opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing when he placed his lips on yours. You let out a soft gasp when he held you closer, one arm around your waist, the other hand on your back, holding you close. This wasn’t like the last time you kissed — this was desperate, filled with emotion. He let go of you too soon, eyes shining with tears.

You both knew that there was a chance you wouldn’t come back to him, and this could be the last time he saw you.

You squeezed his hand in an attempt to reassure him. He just nodded at the door, knowing that you had your duty. You bowed and left as he watched you in fear, praying that you’d make it.

After the attack by the rebels, there were always new questions about the palace’s security floating around. Quite a few lives were lost. None of them were you or his family, but Sunghoon still grieved for them mentally. He couldn’t imagine the agony their families must’ve been going through, and he managed to convince his father to give all the deceased’s close relatives compensation.

The wedding was called off for now, much to his delight and his father’s despair. The old man had accused him of doing something to sabotage it, but he had grown a thicker skin, thanks to you. All efforts were now being put into strengthening the forces of the kingdom, and the actual matters of state were being ignored. This would lead to more rebellion, but his father didn’t seem to care. At this rate, he could die if he stepped out of the palace grounds — the people hated him that much. Sunghoon was already preparing to become the next ruler since that future would become a reality pretty soon.

A surprise attack was inevitable, but he didn’t expect the aggressor to be the damn Hwan kingdom.

They must’ve heard about the damage inflicted on the palace from spies and knew that the Park kingdom would be focusing its efforts on repairing it, thus taking advantage of the situation. It was smart of king Hwan, Sunghoon would give him that.

He rode his horse while inspecting the soldiers preparing for battle. None of them were properly ready for this. Many veteran soldiers were on break and were called back suddenly. They all did come, and he was grateful to them for that, even when they had the right to refuse. The troops were arranging their positions quickly, and a little bit of his anxiety relaxed. Their army was strong, they could face this.

As he rode back, he saw his father, who was seething with rage at being betrayed, Sunghoon’s brain was in overdrive. Many of these brave soldiers would sacrifice their body and soul for a stupid fight that wouldn’t bring much to the land that could have been easily prevented. He knew it would happen, but didn’t do anything that was enough to fix it. He couldn’t keep falling short of what was necessary, that wasn’t what a future king would do.

Not wanting to talk to the old man, he rode a little further where you were on your own horse, surveying the battlefield. He relaxed a bit more upon seeing you and moved to be next to you.

“This will be a tough fight, Sunghoon.”

“I hope it remains a fight that ends today and not a war that stretches over days.”

“Where we are victorious.”

“Obviously.”

“My- Sunghoon, what will you do in case your father…is killed?”

The slip-up and the way ‘my Sunghoon’ rolled off your tongue so perfectly made him miss your actual question for a moment. He let out a soft giggle, before manning up to think. He hadn’t considered that possibility at all. If that happened, then he would automatically become the next king. He’d rule the land and hopefully lead better than the previous king and his reign would be peaceful. He’d make sure of that.

“Be the next ruler, of course. I’d promote you to my personal advisor.”

You cracked a small smile at that.

“Not enough brain. Plus, what if I don’t make it?”

“Won’t happen. You’re too sexy to die. Your abilities are top tier too, you’ll survive.”

You laughed now, and he smiled fully at you. This was a situation unheard of — right before a whole battle, he was here flirting with you and laughing. So very serious.

He leaned his head closer to yours, hair falling over his eyes. They were pleading silently with you to steal one last kiss, one last secret gesture of love before you both left to fight, one last chance to hold you. You shortened the gap, about to comply, when the war horn sounded, signaling the start of the battle. He frowned, angry at the lost chance, but quickly kissed your forehead. You pecked his cheek in return, before putting on your helmet and riding off.

The sound of hooves hitting the ground and the sight of dust flying from them brought him back into the moment, and he rode in the same direction as his own army, intending to lead the fight. His father was weak and made dumb decisions, so it was up to him. He moved directly to the frontlines, pulling out his sword from its hilt as an enemy soldier charged at him. He fought with ease, and soon a dead body was on the ground.

He should have been desensitized now upon seeing gore and corpses, but it still disgusted him. He gritted his teeth and averted his gaze as he parried with more enemies. Soldiers were dropping left and right from both sides. Blood splatters were on his own face from fighting so fiercely. It was a miracle that he was still standing with only minor injuries, the Hwan soldiers were vigorous.

Time was passing quickly, although for him it felt like an eternity. He just wanted to go back after all this ended. He didn’t care if he had to marry the Hwan princess, all he wanted was for this bloodshed to end. The sound of arrows being shot, horses neighing, grunts of hurt and dying soldiers — it was all too much for him.

All of a sudden, a more experienced soldier was attacking him, he could tell by the moves. His entire focus was on fighting back because this guy could actually kill him, that much was clear. He didn’t notice the other soldier charging towards him from his left with a spear until he heard a clang.

His eyes darted in the direction of the sound for a second, only to see you had blocked the attack and thrown the soldier off his horse. He was impressed and inspired by you, and with renewed strength, he killed the veteran. He gave you a thumbs up, before looking to his right as someone else ran to replace the deceased soldier. He was ready to fight that person and everyone else with you and for you.

Then, tragedy struck.

An arrow was heading in his direction. Occupied with the current fight he was in, Sunghoon was in no position to dodge it, and you took the blow. Pushing his horse with your own, the arrow lodged in your chest instead. The only reason he noticed it was because of the sound of pain you made. He finished off the man fighting him, and then turned his head to look at you. Your head was drooping slightly and your grip on the reins of your horse had faltered.

No, no, no, this can’t happen!

You were supposed to stay with him, you were supposed to be by his side forever, he was supposed to get more chances to love you, even in secret, not just lose you like this.

He immediately shoved his sword back in its hilt before grabbing your torso to steady you. You were very faintly there, you just had to keep going a bit more for him, and he knew you could.

“Y/N, hold on, okay? Don’t close your eyes, please.”

“Try…ing.”

Fuck, your voice was so weak, you really were trying. He’d end your suffering soon, he promised silently.

Coincidentally, the war horn sounded once more, signifying the end of the battle. It was his kingdom’s, which meant he had won, just like you wanted.

But you weren’t conscious enough to realize it.

He promptly sat you on his horse in front of him, one arm around your waist holding you close and tight. He galloped fast to the palace medic, the best one in the entire region. He ignored the weird looks and the shouts of his name, traveling with urgency. He had to move fast for your sake, and also for his own. He’d lose his shit if you…no. You weren’t going to, he was sure of it.

“Try to not focus on the pain, we’re almost there.”

That was stupid advice, but he had to say something, anything to save him.

“This doctor will fix you up, I swear. Just- don’t give up yet, Y/N. I beg of you. It’s all I’ll ask for this badly from you.”

Your head was now tilted back, and it rested on his right shoulder. You opened your eyes slightly to look at him, which he took as a good sign.

Then you spoke.

“I won’t…won’t make it. It’s…no point…denying it…my…Hoon, I…love you.”

At your words, Sunghoon’s lips formed a thin line as he squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds to force his tears to stay back. He could feel the blood running from your wound and collecting onto the sleeve of his suit, but he refused to accept it. You would make it, you couldn’t die.

“Shut-Shut up. You’re not dying, not when I’m here. Look, we’ve reached- you’ll be okay, I swear.”

He got off the horse, your limp body in his arms bridal style.

He wished he could be holding you like this in a different, more happier situation.

The doctor rushed out of her house and knew that it was urgent upon seeing the prince at her door. She took you in and he waited outside, pacing around nervously. He was so certain you’d survive, but the wound could be a major setback for the rest of your life. He’d have to make adjustments to accommodate you at the palace. He wouldn’t mind though, it was for you after all.

The doctor came out after a few minutes, and he waited for her to say something along the lines of ‘she survived, but ___’. Not to see her shake her head with a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry. She didn’t make it. She was gone when you came here. We tried our best, but…the arrow was poison tipped, which reduced her chances of surviving to zero.”

No. No no no no no. This lady was old and wrinkling, she was probably cuckoo and playing an unfunny prank on him.

“Can I see her? Alone?”

“Of course, sire.”

He rushed inside immediately, expecting to see you on the bed bandaged up and smiling at how well the prank worked on him-

She was right. You really were gone. You took your last breath in his arms. Your arms rested limply by your sides. The arrow was removed, but the blood stains were on your armor as evidence that the fatal injury did indeed happen. Useful reminder for a delusional ass like his. Your helmet was off your head now.

He sat down on a chair next to your bed and held one of your hands gingerly. It was already turning cold, and he hated it. He felt freshly made cuts and bruises along with older scars on your palm. His gaze fell on your face. The scratch you got from the rebel’s ambush was still partially healing. He took in your features with intense concentration, engraving them in his memory. He despised the fact that you looked so much at peace right now – when you just left his entire life in turmoil. He needed so badly to shake you back to life or something, but he knew that there was no point now. He lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing it in a tender manner, a weak replacement for the one you both missed maybe an hour or two before.

Just when he let go of your hand, the doctor rushed in with news.

“Sire, his majesty has passed away due to a…similar poisonous arrow shortly after victory.”

Both the people he knew wanted to win the most were dead just after it happened. Ironic, he thought - this was worthless now.

King Sunghoon walked through the cemetery for soldiers who had sacrificed their lives for the country. He stopped right in front of one which had many flower bouquets, a lot of them from his own previous visits, all of them your favorite flowers. He got on his knees on the right side of your gravestone, head bowed in respect and hands folded in his lap.

“Hello, Y/N. I know I’ve come to see you many times before, but I can’t help it. I miss you so much. You left too soon. I still believe that I should have taken that arrow instead of you…although it was for the better in hindsight. At least your last memory was of me and your pain ended quickly.”

Silence. He quickly wiped his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. I still do, so much. I should move on by now, but it’s hard. Not when you meant so much to me, not when you changed me. A little for the worse, mostly for the better.”

He laughed dryly, looking at his hands. An expensive ring gleamed on his ring finger.

“I married a queen who I liked a lot. Not the Hwan princess, although she and I keep in touch often. We’re allies now. Kind of ironic, since I lost you and the old man in a war against that same kingdom’s old ruler.”

He wasn’t willing to let himself break, what if someone walked in on him sobbing over a dead soldier's grave? What would they think? He poked his eyes with his fingers, still in misery. No matter how much he tried, everything in his brain led back to you. While he didn’t want you to fade or leave his mind exactly, you were only meant to be a guest, visiting occasionally, not a permanent resident, not someone he still needed. When he calmed down, he quietly lifted his crown off his head and put it on top of your gravestone. He placed a solemn hand on it, closing his eyes. “This is a love stained crown, tainted with you and I, along with all our memories. Your affection will never wash away, no matter how much I try. I miss you and I love you, and I hope you’re doing better, wherever you are.”

#mallow’s works #mallow’s oneshots #divider by fairytopea #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen royal au #enhypen angst #sungoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon angst #sunghoon royal au #enhypen fic #sunghoon fic #sunghoon prince au #sunghoon enhypen #kflixnet

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago

Text

𝐒𝐮𝐢 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 6.1k

chapter summary: you and joel take your relationship to the next level.

warnings: themes of grief and loneliness, hurt/comfort, fluff, body painting, joel being a very lousy nude model, oral (male receiving), heavy petting, fingering, shower sex, edging, dirty talking

a/n: aaaaand we're BACK-- the hiatus is officially over and I am so ready to focus on this series. I've missed them so much and I hope you guys all did too 💗 also special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on while I was writing this, love you to the moon and back bby xx

Chapter Eleven || Chapter Thirteen

Loneliness had never been a stranger to you. You had your own brand of it, like a homemade fig preserve. Being so close with it, you’ve added something from yourself, and in return, it has branded your personality in such a way that it has become hard to think there was anything but.

For the longest time that special brand of loneliness had been your closest friend. During adulthood, you noticed how tired you were of asking for people to be emotionally aware of your needs, your wants. You were tired of spelling it out for them. Your parents weren’t like you, neither was Auggie. No one around you was emotional like you were, so you learned to keep it locked tight in your heart. You cried at night. You smiled during the day. You felt off and weird when family members hugged you and wept on your shoulder, you dissociated. You’ve noticed this, especially at your grandfather’s funeral. He was gone and you hadn’t shed a tear among the dark black fabrics.

Auggie knew you did this, but alas, it didn’t really matter.

So when you found a family emotionally rich despite not having much, it came as a mild shock to you. Sarah didn’t have these issues. She didn’t care if she was emotional or not, or if what she said came off as needy. The only emotional constipation you noticed was between brothers, but even that didn’t stop them from addressing what they felt during an argument.

You were no stranger to emotional outbursts. Reading a book and eyes welling before you could finish a sentence.

Now, you feel less lonely thanks to Joel, Tommy, and Sarah, each filling a different gap in your withered soul. But even that doesn’t stop the old habit of sewing your mouth shut.

You wake with a heavy weight on your chest. It’s still dark, the sky a dark shade of royal blue. It’s actually a beautiful night. However, your eyes are blind to it. Your skin is damp with sweat. If you saw a nightmare, you don’t remember what it was. You remember going to bed uncomfortable, Tommy’s sad eyes branded into your lids like tattoos you both want to and don’t want to get rid of.

You gradually rise from the bed, the thin summer quilt sliding off your now cold body. You shudder. It had been a long time since you last felt this way. Empty and lonely. It always feels like you have to suffer through these emotions on your own, your need to smile through it more prominent than anything else.

You smack your lips together, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. You need water. Ice cold water.

Going down the stairs you don’t think how dark it is, or how some particular shadows remind you of your childhood when you would wake up thanks to the jarring sound of mosquitos, looking for comfort downstairs where your grandparents were usually up. Fuck, your chest is even heavier now. The muscle in your chest more like a cannonball than heart. You’re hyper-aware of the way your chest rises and falls with every breath and quickly, you make your way to the kitchen.

The light of the fridge momentarily blinds you but despite your burning irises you manage to wrap your fingers around the familiar handle of the old jug. You pour yourself a big glass and take small swallows.

A soft wind caresses the outer skeleton of the house. The shadows of leaves dance over the walls, again, a familiar sight that drags you back and makes you sick simultaneously.

“You a’right there, sweetheart?”

You jump at the sound of a voice deepened with sleep. Tommy is staring at you from the entrance, brows furrowed, the crease between them so much like his brother. Taking another small sip of water, you swallow and place the cold glass on the counter.

“I’m fine,” you grit out, your voice leveled. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

Before you know it, Tommy’s warm hands are on your face, cradling your cheeks. His thumbs move over your cheekbones, pressing and applying pressure over the bone. Your heart skips a beat. It takes you everything not to lean into his touch, to seek out that comfort only he could give. But you think of Joel, you think of him, and you stop yourself. If Tommy knew about you and Joel, if you were completely honest with him—an open book, you would’ve taken that comfort to yourself, not a worry in your heart but he doesn’t know and that alone makes your stomach clench with guilt.

“You don’t look fine,” his hands slide down to your shoulders. “Was it a nightmare?”

You blink heavily, your eyes locked on one another. Two broken people in a dark kitchen. It pains you that a nightmare is Tommy’s first guess. You wonder how many times he’d woken up to the faux scent of gunpowder and screams only to be comforted by the darkness of the ceiling.

“Something like that. I. . sometimes forget that they’re gone,” your eyes drop to his chest. “And then I remember that no matter what, in the end, I’ll be lonely.”

“Lonely?” he spits out the word, shocked, hurt and baffled. “What are you talkin’ about? You have Joel—You have me.”

You know you do. You really do. But after years of going through it all alone, to see your friends have their own support systems and people to protect them, care for them, it’s hard to believe you’ve found your people. It’s hard to believe that years of solitude where you had to take care of yourself was over. Old habits die hard. Your heart shatters piece by piece. Your heart nothing but a heavy weight in your chest. You want to collapse, to scream, shout and cry. Salty tears sting the corner of your eyes. Suddenly you’re drowning in your past like it’s still your present, the thickness of it goes all the way up to your neck and you can’t breathe—

“Hey—hey,” Tommy cups your cheeks, thumbs running down where tears would be but your skin is dry. “Come back to me, it’s a’right. I’ll always be with you, you know? Even if you move far away, I’ll always be a thorn in your ass.”

You crack a smile and manage to nod, placing a hand over his own. You think a tear finally falls, maybe even two. You hate feeling like this. Hate it. Tommy doesn’t look convinced by your expression.

“Do. . .do you want me to call Joel?”

His words freeze you to the bone. Of course, he would ask that—Tommy Miller, always thoughtful, always putting others first. They both do. You even think to some extent Sarah does the same thing. All of them throwing themselves in front of a moving train in different ways.

You don’t know if he’s noticed something. Or if he just thinks that Joel’s presence would be more soothing, since he’s used to relying on his older brother.

Either way, you want him to know that he’s enough.

And he’ll always be enough.

You shake your head, “No,” he furrows his brows when you part your arms. “But I wouldn’t say no to a hug.”

Strong arms sneak under your armpits and broad palms press against your back. Tommy pulls you incredibly close. Holds you indescribably tight. His scent fills your lungs. A bit of sweat mixed with a day-old deodorant. He smells nice. He always had. His skin is warm against your cheek and you smile widely this time but he doesn’t see.

“Thank you, Tommy,” you whisper into the darkness. “I would be lost without you.”

“Are you sure you’re a’right?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“Hundred percent sure?”

“Yes, sir,” you declare, your gaze fixed on Joel as you peer from the side of the canvas for a better look. “Now stand still.”

Joel grumbles something inaudible and straightens his neck, attempting to keep his limbs as still as possible. Your eyes rove across his broad shoulders, the expanse of his chest, you take in the shadows that appear between every sinewy muscle and think about how to convey it into your painting. You still haven’t dared to look further down. Looking down means that you’ll definitely be distracted.

You sketch a couple of lines that vaguely resemble his shape. You’ve missed painting nudes and when you mentioned it to Joel, he was eager to accept without actually realizing he had to stay still for a generous amount of time.

“You should’ve called,” he grumbles. “I would’ve come straight over.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But it was late, and Tommy was there.”

He doesn’t say anything but you can sense his displease.

“He’s my friend, Joel,” you answer, observing the thick contour of his neck. “And your brother.”

“I know that. I just don’t like the idea of not being there for you.”

“Tell him then,” you say a bit harshly. He doesn’t seem affected by your shift in tone. Another line joins the others. “If it was anything serious I would’ve called, hell, I would’ve come to you but it wasn’t that serious. I was just in a. . . mood.”

“Tommy sure don’t think so.”

You don’t say anything and focus on drawing the rest of his torso, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I hate when you do this, you know.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Do what?”

“Downgrade your problems. It’s okay if you’re still grievin’. It’s okay if there are some things you’re still workin’ out. I just don’t want you to think you’re alone, I can be your rock, sweetheart. I’d be happy to.”

“You are my rock, Joel—and keep still.” He huffs and straightens again, your lips twitching into a smile. “I’ll try to open up more. Promise. I do feel really lucky I have you. And Sarah—and Tommy. Some nights I just wake up feeling bad. Yesterday was just a bit more intense.” Joel grunts in approval and you add. “Also hasn’t Tommy heard of the phrase ‘snitches get stitches’?”

“He wasn’t snitchin’,” he pouts, you want to take his bottom lip between your fingers and kiss him. “I actually asked how he was doin’ but he quickly brushed it off and told me about you instead.”

“Of course, he did.”

He nods but still seems wound up like a toy. His head drops a bit, the click of your tongue reminding him to keep still.

Your eyes trace the contours of Joel’s body. He’s an excellent specimen, everything about him so human, so raw. Every freckle, every crinkle you want to eternalize onto your canvas. He’s not looking at you anymore. Eyes glued to the legs of the easel. You still haven’t fully taken in the sight of him. Sometimes you’re truly afraid of how strongly you feel for him, how much you’d be willing to lay down just to be with him.

Honestly, a pocket of time would be ideal. That way you could spend eternity in this peaceful moment, living in bliss.

You place the pencil down and walk up to him. His gaze is drawn to your once more, “Sorry, sweet tea, did I move again?”

“Maybe a bit,” you lie, standing an inch away from his naked body. You press your thumbs against his cheekbones then slide them down, feeling the roughness of hair tickling your skin. His eyes flutter shut momentarily, before opening again.

You don’t say a word. Time is still around you and you believe if you try hard enough this can be your forever. You trace the outer lines of his lips, then trace the seam. His lips part, a bit of tongue showing in between—you touch that too, shallowly dipping one finger before moving on to his neck, “To draw is to feel,” you muster, the ball of your thumb grazing firmly over his Adam’s apple. “Will you let me feel you?”

“‘Course,” he chokes out. “Whatever you need.”

His words make your chest swell with affection. Joel’s words make you feel brave enough to allow your gaze to venture down. You press the flat of your palms over the swell of his stomach, something trembles within—life, you think, he’s so full of it. Your one hand dares to go lower, playing with the dark curls that lead to his soft cock.

However, he doesn’t remain soft for long, it twitches and grows, the head gaining a reddish hue.

Joel tilts his head, gradually leaning in to claim your lips with his own. He stops when your fingers bite into his bare hips, lodging into that delicate spot between bone and muscle, he swallows thickly, cock raising with attention.

“Stay still,” you whisper. “And maybe I’ll reward you.”

“Oh, we’re playing that game now?” he says with a crooked smile that makes your stomach twist delightfully. You only smile as your hand slides lower and lower, until you cup his semi-hard cock. His breath hitches.

I love you like this, you want to say but remain silent. You stroke him slowly until he’s fully hard, the warm muscle throbbing in your palm, you press your lips against his neck, sucking on his skin until his hips jerk.

“I’m not playing any games,” you mouth into his skin. “If you let me paint you, I’ll let you fuck my mouth. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

Joel thrusts into your hand once more, groaning as you lick the vein that throbs under his skin, “I won’t lie, sweetheart, that might be hard if you keep your hand where it is.” He exhales a shaky breath, the warmth of it fanning your skin. “But sounds fair enough, I’ll try.”

You press a quick kiss to the small patch within his beard and pull away before he can follow the heat of your lips. He’s as still as a statue when you get behind the canvas, but instead of resuming sketching the rough outline of his body, you grab two tubes of paint and a brush; though you have your doubts you’ll be using the tool, you’d much prefer to feel the heat of his skin softening the paint between your fingers.

When you come back to him, confusion crosses his face.

“I thought you were gonna be paintin’?”

Your lips twitch into a sinister smile, “I am.”

As cliche as it might sound, Joel has always reminded you of a deep, rich shade of red—the color of blood—but he also reminds you of an earthy purple, the type of shade that makes you want to bury your fingers in it as if you might actually feel the earth itself.

You shake two tubes of paint in front of his eyes. He’s still confused, yet remains still. You pop the red paint open first, squeezing a generous amount over his shoulder. You watch it trickle down, drops of crimson staining his torso, the color so deep that it looks too real. Your heart jumping, you quickly smear it down his chest and all the way to his stomach. Just like you predicted, the brush is forgotten, slipping from your fingers and onto the carpeted floor. Joel shudders, his breath caught in his throat, you see him clench his jaw.

“Darlin’. . .” he rasps, voice full of gravel, and your hand stops where it follows the V of his lower abdomen.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he answers quickly, breathily. “Don’t ever stop touching me. Don’t ever stop looking at me like that—like I’m the most valuable thing you have. Like I’m worth a damn.”

“You are.”

Slowly, your fingertip traces an invisible path upward, leaving a trail of red paint in its wake. Joel shudders and gulps loudly. You draw meaningless shapes, circle where his tattoo is, and draw shapes of ancient alphabets you vaguely remember from when you read a book about the Late Bronze Age. Joel shudders, twitches, and tenses under your touch but never actually moves, keeping his stance.

After the red pigment is nothing more but a fading shade of pink, you pour some purple paint into your palm and apply it directly. You press your hand directly above his heart, leaving your handprint over it before moving to his back, “Fuck,” he groans.

Looking down, you notice him clenching his buttocks and slightly swaying forward, you smile, his cock must be dripping. You can’t wait to take him in your mouth, for him to use you however he pleases. You need him to be desperate when he takes you, sliding his length down your throat as he berates you for taunting him with sinful touches in the guise of making art.

You press your hands together and smear the remnants of red with the purple, the fresh paint overwhelming the other. When both hands are fully coated, your cup both his ass cheeks, sliding your hands up, you kiss the taut skin between his shoulder blades. You leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way to his neck and lick the sensitive spot behind his earlobe.

“I’d wrap my hand around your cock but I’m afraid the paint isn’t edible so you wouldn’t be able to fuck my mouth,” you tease. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Joel?”

He groans, “Keep this up and you’ll find out, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man, you should know.”

“But isn’t the wait fun?” you challenge, your hands sliding up to his front, right above his pelvis. “The taste of sex on your tongue, the way your cock throbs with the thought of my warm cunt tight around it? Don’t you feel that tingle. . .” you gradually lower yourself, dragging your tongue down his spine, a choked out sound rips from his throat, “going down your spine, reminding you of how good it’s finally going to feel when you push down my throat, cutting my airflow and taking me however you want?”

Joel breathes heavily, his stomach clenching with every whispered word, “Darlin’, please.”

“Turn around.”

You look up as he does, you gently take his hand and place it on your cheek, your heart dissolving into something thick and sweet like honey when his thumb strokes your skin. His gaze grows soft, the arousal in them dimming, splitting away like waves to show the emotion.

“Your knees are gonna hurt,” he says, voice dropping.

He’s right, they are going to hurt. “I don’t care.”

You lower both hands to your lap, obediently parting your lips, sticking your tongue out. Joel wraps a hand around his cock and jerks himself until he’s fully hard, he holds you by the hair and drags you closer.

“You want me to fuck that pretty mouth?”

“Please,” you repeat his own plea from earlier.

The heft of his cock on your tongue almost feels like a blessing from above. Your eyes flutter shut. Joel slides himself torturously slow, inch by inch, as he fills your mouth, your lips stretching wide to accommodate his width. He moves down your throat, awakening your gag reflex, you hold it down, choking around his cock.

“Fuuuuuck, that feels good,” he groans, throwing his head back. With shallow thrusts, he works your throat open. Your one hand slides between your thighs as the other braces against Joel’s thick thigh. Right now, you’re relieved you’re wearing your favorite flannel pajama shorts instead of something uncomfortable like jeans. “That’s it, touch yourself, sweetheart. I want you to come while I’m fuckin’ your throat.” You whine filthily at his words, pressing your fingers between your clothed folds, you stroke your aching clit. Joel doesn’t stop running his mouth. “You must be soaked down there, poor thing.”

Tears sting the corner of your eyes and you manage to slip your fingers down your shorts. His thrusts become rougher, sliding all the way out before fucking himself even deeper into your mouth, down your throat. You swallow helplessly around him and the groan that slips from between his lips forces the clench of your cunt, you breathe heavily through your nose and draw vicious circles around your clit.

“Look at you—you like me fuckin’ your mouth, honey?” You nod, his lips curling in the most devastating way. “You gonna come while rubbing that pretty pussy of yours?”

You nod again, this time accompanied by a moan. The reverberations of the sound trembles against his sensitive cock and he rocks into your mouth harder—this time tears do slip past your fluttering lashes. You can’t breathe, your vision is blurry, yet this is everything you’ve ever wanted. Your heart feels so full, so content. He fucks every thought out of your head, overwhelming your senses.

“Shit, shit, shit—Don’t look like that, sweetheart, don’t cry, if you do I—I’ll—” Spit trickles down the corner of your lips, everything a wet, sopping mess. With every thrust, he manages to go down your throat, his mouth constantly muttering words you can barely hear. More tears flow freely down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva and precome going down your neck. His hips move in a constant stammering motion, balls heavy on your chin as he snaps shallowly into your throat without pulling back.

You look up to him. Your eyes shining and glimmering, Joel meets your gaze, his eyes going wide, hips stilling—

He spills down your throat, hard.

You swallow, swallow, and swallow, gulping everything that he gives. But it’s still not enough, there’s too much, some of it spilling from the sides from where his cock stretches your lips. Your body jerks, your fingers move slowly around your clit and you press harder, your feel the warm slick dripping down your fingers, making a mess of the rug underneath.

“Sorry, sorry—” Joel mutters over and over again almost like a chant. His voice hoarse as his chest raises with quick shallow breaths. He then lets out a deep exhale, his cock throbbing in your mouth as he pulls out. “I wanted to last longer.”

You kiss the tip of his spent cock, “Come here,” you mumble and he quickly drops down, you take his hand, pulling it between your legs. His eyes snap to yours, pupils eating away the color as he presses two fingers into your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll and your hips immediately grind down. “I came too. I came from you fucking my mouth, Joel. That’s how good it felt. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Fuck, you’re really makin’ it hard to stay soft darlin’.” You smile as you cup his flaccid cock, feeling the weight of it in your palm, he hisses. “You’re gonna pay for teasin’ me, neighbor. ‘Should take you on my fuckin’ knee as punishment.”

A fresh gush of wetness spreads around his fingers, “I think I would like that,” you say, kissing his neck. “But now I think I should actually finish sketching you for my painting.”

“I don’t think I have much strength left in my legs,” he says with a chuckle.

“Who said anything about standing?” you stand up, taking him with you. “I’m going to paint something else and for that, I want you on the bed.”

You hadn't realized how much paint you managed to cover yourself in when you were pouring purple and red down Joel's shoulders.

He actually managed quite well when you asked him to lay on the bed instead of standing, and you’re fairly certain he dozed off for a moment or two. You didn’t mind. You loved how the painting had ended up, a sensual silhouette of a working man sleeping with sun cascading down his skin.

“Surprise surprise, pourin’ paint on me got you dirty too,” Joel coos playfully, following you into the dimly lit bathroom. He stuffs your bedsheets into the washing machine, your eyes catch the smear of red and purple paint. “Want us to take a shower beautiful? We still have time until Sarah comes back from school.”

“Someone’s cheerful now that they’ve taken their nap.” Joel holds you by the waist and pulls you close, unlike him, you’re still fully clothed—dirty, but clothed. His cock presses against the swell of your stomach.

“I’m mighty tired of bein’ the only one bearin’ my naked ass,” he tugs off your shirt, the motion so quick that your protest dissolves on your tongue before it can materialize. “Also you owe me a nice back scrub with all those fancy soaps you have.”

“I thought I paid my depth when you came down my throat.”

“I don’t recall sayin’ exactly how much you owed me for this.”

Your lips split into a grin. Without moving away, you bend over and slip out of your shorts, throwing them towards the washing machine. The flickering lustful specks in his eyes make your heart jump, they look like gold. Despite coming down your throat about forty minutes ago, he still wants you. He’s not tired of spending time with you, talking to you, humoring you in your endeavors— he’s not even mildly annoyed, which is something you thought everyone would feel eventually if they spent enough time with you. It was only a matter of when.

You suddenly slap your palms softly against his cheeks, cradling his scruffy cheeks. His eyes rip away from your naked body to meet your gaze. You take in a slow breath. And out. Your heart rams painfully within your chest. Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in your expression, observing you slowly as if he’s tasting what you’re feeling like aged wine. His fingers slither around your wrist and sliver down your forearms.

“Darlin’?”

“I love you, Joel.”

His lips part, not with surprise, but with relief. You’re smiling giddily now, not a feeling of worry in your bones, just happiness, eagerness. You don’t care if it’s too early. Too late. It’s what you feel. And all you feel is love love love.

“I love you too, Tea.”

Joel brings your palm to his lips and kisses the curve of it slowly, he moves up to the middle, his mustache tickling you when he lays another kiss, “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

You close the distance, slanting your lips together, you drink him. His lips move to the beat of the moment, tickling down tenderly and smoothly like molasses. Joel’s tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open up for him. He tastes you quickly before pulling back. He exhales deeply, his breath fanning your swollen lips.

“Let’s get cleaned up.”

You grin, raising an eyebrow, “So you can get me dirty again?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he huffs.

Joel leads you to the tub, acting as if you’re his guest and not the other way around. He turns on the shower, allows the water to run down his fingers until the temperature is just right, and then carefully helps you step in. You moan happily at the way warm water moves down your skin, softening your body and chipping away at the paint. Joel stands right behind you. You want to turn around, clean him of the colorful mess, but he doesn’t budge. His hands touch your shoulders, then skims down.

“You first,” he murmurs, fingers washing away the paint. You lean back. His hands follow a trail to your front, kneading your breasts.

“I don’t have any paint there,” you hum.

“My bad, these eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

He gives them another squeeze before going lower and lower. . . until he’s pushing his hand between your pressed tighs. You laugh, “I definitely don’t have any paint there.”

His teeth suddenly sink into your shoulder. The blossoming pain makes you gasp and your body reacts by bending over, rolling your hips towards him. With a soft growl, Joel grips your hips and pushes you up against the glass panel. You moan with your breasts pressing firmly against the glass, the constant shower of water making you slip.

Joel’s lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck you with my fingers,” he rasps. “Want you to come all around them, sweetheart.”

Your body flushes from the inside out, “What if I can’t?”

“You don’t have a choice,” he pushes forward, notching his cock between your folds, you whimper. “If you want me to fuck you with this cock, you better show me how desperate you are for it by makin’ a mess, honey.”

When you don’t answer he grips your neck and forces your head back, he kisses your forehead, “Are you gonna be good for me?”

Your stomach bottoms out, “Y—Yes, I’ll be good.”

He kisses your forehead once more before releasing you. You fall forward with a whimper, bracing your hands against the slippery panels. Joel slides two fingers inside of you with embarrassing ease, “You like it when I’m rough,” he states, thrusting the digits in and out. You nod. “I love you,” he then says, catching you but surprise. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles darkly. “God, you’re gonna make me go insane—I love you—”

You clench again, a loud moan dropping from your lips. The sounds you make are drowned by the water, yet he can hear you crystal clear. Your body reacts viscerally to his words, a flame that won’t ever go out burning wild in your gut—between your legs. He whispered the words into your skin, into your mouth, against your tongue. You push against his fingers, urging him to go deeper. He does. He holds you by the neck while fucking you with thick fingers, you cry out his name, whimpering those three little words that make him go inside just as much as it does to you.

“Come for me,” he grunts. “Come for me so I can fuck you for real.”

“J–Joel, fuck—”

Your back arches, your orgasm rips from you, he takes it. It’s violent, earth shattering.

Your jaw drops as he squeezes your throat lightly, the pressure adding to the intensity. You can vaguely hear him muttering ‘That’s it’ over and over, but you can barely hear the rasp of his voice.

Joel kisses your cheek, drags his lips down your neck, “How’re you feelin’?”

“Good. . . great actually.”

Pulling out his fingers, he pushes them between your lips, you lap at them hungrily. While you’re busy devouring your own taste, Joel buries himself deep in your cunt. You whimper around his fingers, brows furrowing with pleasure. He pulls the digits out and grips your chin. His chest heaves as he pulls almost all the way out before snapping forward again, burying himself into the tight warmth of your pussy.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles, rocking back and forth. With every thrust, your lungs convulse. You desperately grip his forearm, but your fingers slip thanks to the water droplets that surround his skin, him letting out a sudden chuckle before pulling you towards his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think I’m gonna last long now either. You make me feel like a teenager again.”

Throwing your arm back, you tug the damp locks and force your lips together. You lick hungrily into his mouth. Joel moans loudly and you swallow every little sound he makes, your cunt fluttering and clamping around his length. He pounds into you sloppily, no coordination, no calculation—just need.

To be wanted. To be devoured. What a wonderful feeling it was.

Joel pulls out with a grunt, you hear the slick sounds of his fist as he jerks himself over the curve of your spine. You shudder when you feel it. Warm spend trickling down your skin, mixing with the water. He spreads your ass cheeks and pushes them together with his cock between them, he grinds once—twice, before heaving and dropping his head between your shoulder blades.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but you hear no regret behind the apology. It makes you glad.

“Don’t be,” you turn and pick up the shower head, holding it right over his shoulders, you wipe the remaining paint away. Your stomach growls in protest, your lips twitch into a crooked smile. “God, all that worked an appetite. I’m starving.”

“Want me to cook you somethin’?”

Spraying the water over his other shoulder, you meet his gaze. He’s so sweet like this. His hair wet, curling at the ends. His body finally relaxed. You can’t help yourself and quickly press your lips into the corner of his jaw.

“I have a watermelon in the fridge, you can cut that up for me.”

“‘Course, darlin’. Anythin’ for you.”

Crickets chirp loudly. The wind pleasant, yet a bit too warm for your liking. You fan yourself with a hand as you lean back into the chair. Despite just taking a shower, you’re nearly dry. Summer is definitely not a good season for you.

“Should I be offended you look so miserable right now?” Joel asks, sitting next to you. He bites into one of the watermelon slices and when a drop of sweet nectar escapes, he makes quick work of licking himself clean. You swallow, your insides pulsing.

“No,” you sigh. “I just don’t like the heat very much.”

“Well. . that might be a problem considering summer is basically here.”

You groan and throw your head back, “Don’t remind me.”

“Here,” he says, extending you a slice. “Eat.”

You take the slice without objection, biting into the fleshy fruit. The cold juice of the watermelon feels good as it goes down your throat. You look over to the lawn, thanks to the heat most things have dried out.

“I helped him a lot you know,” Joel says, his voice soft, as if afraid to spook you. “With the garden that is. He talked a lot about you.”

“Did he now?” you muse, you chew the watermelon thoughtfully. Your eyes are glued to one of the butterflies in search of a flower. “I miss him.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. I know. I wish I could ease your paint, but truthfully I have no idea how to do that.”

“You do enough,” smiling, you turn to him and find that he’s already looking at you. “The silver lining is that I met you.”

He parts his lips, eyes glossed over with emotion but before he can, both of you hear small steps approaching at the same time.

“Oh, watermelon,” Sarah chirps, throwing her backpack to the floor. “Don’t mind if I do.”

She takes a slice and sits down, eyes flitting between you and Joel. You try not to look at Joel then, your heart beating a bit too loudly for your liking. Sarah raises an eyebrow and locks her eyes with Joel, their expressions are similar when they’re about to wreak havoc.

“What?” Joel snaps, angrily sinking his teeth into his watermelon, finishing it off. Both you and Sarah laugh, your heart feeling a bit lighter now.

“Oh, nothin’,” Sarah rolls her tongue, mimicking her dad. “What have you two been up to?”

“Your dad was helping me with the kitchen sink,” you answer quickly. “It’s been leaking all morning.”

“If my dad is good at anything, it’s fixing stuff.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Joel grumbles.

“How was school?” you ask.

Sarah’s shoulders fall a bit, but she quickly shakes it off and smiles, “It was good, nothing interesting happened.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t pry. Joel doesn’t seem to notice Sarah’s mood change. “We should better head off,” he says.

“But I’m still eating,” Sarah whines. “Can’t we stay a bit longer?”

“We don’t wanna overstay our welcome.”

You almost laugh at such an absurd thing. Him, overstaying his welcome? Never. But you also understand why he does it. Sarah is smart and by the looks she was giving you and him, she’s probably already suspicious.

“You guys should take half of it,” you say, standing up. “I’m only one person anyway. If I eat this much watermelon I’ll end up growing one inside of me.”

Both of them look at you deadpanned, you laugh, “You both have no humor!”

Sarah turns to Joel, “Dad, I think you might wanna check if her water is laced with something.”

“I think you’re right, baby girl,” Joel nods seriously. “There’s no other reason she would find that funny.”

“If you guys keep that up I’m not giving you squat.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” they say at the same time.

You shake your head, snorting at the father and daughter duo. Both of them were ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

However, you can’t seem to stop smiling as you head inside to get them a container to put the slices into.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller smut #stay in bed series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #scheduled

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