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mytherapyisreading14 · 6 months ago

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Between Pregnancy and Prison

Summary: You find out you’re pregnant, unfortunately a couple of weeks after Spencer got arrested in Mexico.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Angst

Warnings: Summary says it all, nothing to add

Word Count: 3k

Part 2

It is late in the afternoon and gray clouds have gathered. Your apartment is quiet, aside from the soft dripping of rain and the gentle clink of a cup that JJ has just placed on the table. You sit on the old sofa, knees drawn up and hands nervously buried in your lap. You stare at the pregnancy test lying on the table in front of you.

You've been feeling exhausted for weeks, constantly tired, struggling with nausea and always having that slight pulling sensation in your abdomen. You convinced yourself it was just the stress of Spencer being wrongfully arrested. But deep down you knew something was wrong. You weren‘t the only one who noticed this and it didn‘t take long before JJ came up to you and asked you about it.

You were sitting at your desk at work, head in your hand, when you felt the familiar feeling of nausea and a dull ache in your abdomen. Again. It wasn't the first time this week that you felt this way. You had barely eaten anything, but even what little you tried to eat was hard to digest.

"Do you need a break?" JJ asked suddenly, her voice concerned. You looked up. Her eyes still sparkled, but there was something different in her gaze - something that reminded you of your condition. The last few weeks had left their mark not only on you, but also on the rest of the team.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, trying to put on a smile. "Just this damn nausea... and this stomach ache that just won't go away." JJ looked at you intently, as if she didn't fully believe your words. She shook her head slightly.

“You’ve told me about it many times. But it really doesn't sound good when it keeps happening. And you seem pretty... exhausted too. Are you really feeling this bad just because of what happened to Spencer? Or could there be something else behind it?”

You stared at your desk for a moment, the words so clear you almost got a lump in your throat. “What do you mean?” you asked quietly, although you had an idea where the question was going.

JJ took a step closer, her expression becoming even more serious. "I know you're dealing with so much right now, but... have you ever thought that there might be something else behind it?"

There was a moment of silence where you felt like the air around you suddenly became even denser. You swallowed. The nausea in your stomach increased. “You meant...maybe pregnancy?” you whispered.

JJ nodded carefully, her voice soft but firm. “Yes, it could be. I know this isn't really the time to think about this, but... sometimes the body has other signals that we don't immediately understand. Maybe it would help you just get some clarity.”

You sighed deeply and rubbed your stomach with one hand. The thoughts swirled in your head. You couldn't deny it. The last few weeks had been so chaotic that you hadn't even really noticed the changes in your own body. But somehow...somehow it was true. It didn't just feel like stress. There was something else there.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, looking down at the ground. “What if this is all just… stress-related?” you asked. “Then at least you’ll be safe,” JJ said calmly. “It could also just be because you are extremely stressed and your body is reacting to it. But maybe ruling it out will help you.”

You hesitated first, then nod slowly. You knew she was right. "Okay, you’re right,” you finally said, taking a deep breath. “Can you maybe come over then? I… I don’t know if I can do this alone.” JJ smiled as she met your eyes. She saw the pain in them.

“Of course, I’ll come over. We'll do this together, don't worry. Once you know what it is, you can finally think more clearly again.” You suddenly felt a little bit lighter. It was as if the thought of not having to go through this uncertainty alone gave you the space to breathe a little again.

“Thanks, JJ,” you whispered, trying to smile. “No problem,” she said with a smile. "You're not alone. We’ll do this together,” she said before you had to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom once again.

So now, after JJ convinced you to take a pregnany test, the two of you are sitting in your living room. “Are you ready?” JJ asks quietly. She sits in the armchair next to the sofa and eyes you with a mixture of concern and understanding. “It’s okay if you’re not ready. But remember, you need to know what’s going on.”

You close your eyes for a moment. Your thoughts are a chaos of joy and fear, of hope and uncertainty. Yes, you and Spencer always said you wanted to have children. You talked about a life together, about marriage and children and the future. But now everything is messed up.

„I... I don’t know, JJ,” you say, your voice shaking. “There’s just so much that’s going wrong right now. Spencer is still in prison, and what if it's months or worse - years - before he gets out? What if I burden him with this news while he’s sitting in this stupid cell?”

JJ leans forward and places a hand on your shoulder. “You will not burden him with this news. It's a decision you have to make together. And if you're happy, then he'll be happy too. He always wanted to have children. You too. And you need to know if you’re really pregnant.” You take a deep breath. Your mind is racing.

What if Spencer really had to stay in prison that long? You don't want to put this burden on him, but you can't just move on without knowing what's really going on. And you also know that you can no longer live in uncertainty.

You feel like you're stuck, caught between the future you imagined and the frightening reality in which Spencer is still trapped. “Okay,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I'll do it. I want to know.”

JJ nods without saying a word and stands up to pick up the test. She puts the test on the table and looks at you as if to give you time to calm down before daring to look at it. “Are you sure?” JJ asked one last time, standing next to her and looking at her sideways. You nod, your heart beating faster and the nervousness settling in your limbs.

But there's also a small, quiet joy within you - the idea that the dream you and Spencer have always wanted can finally become a reality. You grab the test and slowly turn it over. Your breath hitches as you looked at the results. Two red lines. Clearly.

“Oh my god…” you whisper, a smile spreading uncertainly on your lips. You couldn't help but put your hand over your mouth for a moment. It's so surreal. On the one hand, you are overjoyed. This is what you have always wanted. But at the same time, there's this huge insecurity that you can't shake. What if Spencer isn't there in time to experience it?

“It’s positive,” JJ says softly and smiles. Her voice is calm, but you can see the joy in her eyes. “You’re going to be a mom. You’re going to be parents.” You nod, but your eyes fill with tears immediately.

You are happy, so incredibly happy, but also so full of doubts. What should you say to Spencer? How would he react if he heard it? He needs to know, but the thought of breaking that news to him in his current situation somehow feels so... wrong.

“What if he can’t live to see it?” you finally ask, your voice shaky. “What if he doesn’t get out fast enough? How am I supposed to do all this alone?”JJ sits back down on the chair and takes your hand.

“You are not alone. You have me, you have your family, you have the team. And Spencer - even though he's in prison - he's still a part of it. He will be part of this miracle. And when he comes back, he’ll be happy to experience it with you,” she says. “But… the timing…” you start uncertainly, “what if it gets too much for him?” you ask.

“Yes, it’s complicated. Yes, it's not the perfect time. But you know what? There will never be a perfect time. Sometimes you just have to have the courage to take the next step. And you'll see that it turns out to be the right one at some point." You lower the test slowly, but still keep your eyes on it.

The joy you feel is overwhelming - you can already imagine a life with Spencer and a baby. But at this moment uncertainty prevails. You don't know what the future will bring and it scares you. “I’ll tell him right away,” you finally whisper. JJ nods and stands up to hug you.

“That's exactly what you should do. You two will get through this together. No matter what happens.” You close your eyes and hug JJ tightly, the pregnancy test still in your hand. A new chapter has begun, and even if you don't have all the answers, you know you've taken the first step.

You've made the trip to prison many times, but today everything is different. The rain has evaporated to a light drizzle, covering the streets in a dull haze. You can barely concentrate, the thought of the news you're about to tell Spencer making your heart beat faster.

Part of you is nervous, the other is happy. It’s news you've both always wanted for the future, but now that the moment has come, you feel strange and uncertain. What if he doesn't respond the way you hope? What if that's the last thing he wants to hear in this situation? You can understand it to a certain extent.

When you reach the prison building, you get out and walk through the gate, the sound of the massive door closing is ringing in your ears. The waiting room is the same as always - gray walls, worn chairs and the constant feeling of separation that you can never completely get rid of here. The minutes barely seemed to pass as you wait for him to come in. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

“He’s coming soon,” the security guard says without further ado as he stares at his monitor. You nod and try to organize your thoughts. You sit down, hands nervously on your thighs, then your belly. Your gaze is focused on the window in front of you, through which you will soon see Spencer.

Your eyes are already burning from the tears you desperately have to hold back in order to appear strong. But when the door opens and you see Spencer, his familiar face behind the glass that you miss so much, it feels like your heart is being ripped out.

Spencer looks at you through the window and there is the same exhaustion in his eyes, the same weariness that is in your own eyes. But you can see much more than that - He doesn't belong here. That's the thought that haunts you every time you see him in this environment. You can't imagine what it must feel like to be trapped, innocent, in a system that seemed to be turned against you.

It breaks your heart to see him here. Your eyes fill with tears that you can't hold back, despite your best efforts. “Oh, Spence,” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gently place your hand on the glass, as if you could reach him.

He sits down on the bench on the other side of the glass, and as soon as he looks at you, he immediately notices that something is wrong. He frowns and looks at you worriedly, he also puts his hand on the window as if he wanted to touch yours, even though he knows it won't work. It hurts him to see you like this.

“Hey, hey…” Spencer said quietly when he noticed your tears, and his shoulders immediately tightened. "What's wrong, angel?" His voice is soft, almost fragile. “You have to stop crying. It hurts me to see you like this. I can't reach out to you and hold you in my arms. I can’t comfort you. It breaks my heart.”

You hastily wipe away your tears, trying to regain control of your emotions, but the mix of joy and pain makes it almost impossible. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest as you search for the right words. “It’s just… I’m sorry. I... I just wanted to tell you how much I miss you,” you say.

You need a moment to calm down. “I come with… big news today.” Spencer raises an eyebrow and his gaze becomes even more attentive. “News?” he asks, as if he wants to get every word out of you, but at the same time he also feels the burden you carry with you. It's obvious you have something more important to say.

You take a deep breath and wipe away the last of your tears, even as the emotions continue to rise within you. “I've been feeling worse for the last few weeks. I thought it was just stress after everything that happened. I somehow kept telling myself that. But JJ noticed that I had other symptoms that I just ignored. She said I should take a pregnancy test.”

Spencer stays silent, his eyes still worried, but now a hint of foreboding seems to be stirring in his eyes. “And what did the test show?” he asks cautiously, as if he’s not sure if he really wants to hear the answer. You can't stop yourself from smiling, even though your voice is still shaking. “It’s positive,” you say and the words themselves are creating a different reality.

The moment you said it feels surreal. It's something you've always wanted, a future you've always dreamed of. But at this moment you are not sure whether it all really fits into this world. Spencer is in prison. You are at home, alone. But you know you have to share this message with him. You are going through this together.

“You’re going to be a dad, Spence,” you whisper, and despite the uncertainty you feel, you can’t help the smile that’s starting to form in your eyes. You stare at the glass between you, your hand still placed on it. When you look at Spencer, you notice how his eyes are shining.

He can't quite hide the tears, but there's also a smile on his lips that's so warm that it instantly makes your heart skip a beat. It is a smile that radiates hope and love despite the circumstances, despite the prison and all the fear that stands between you.

“I’m so happy,” he finally says, his voice shaky as he forms the words. “I can hardly believe it. You're going to be a mom. We're going to be parents." He takes a deep breath, and you can hear the relief and joy in his voice, but also the pain that comes with it. “But I should be with you. I should be there to help and support you all the time,” he continues, a glimmer of desperation entering his eyes. “But I can’t help you. There’s nothing I can do for you.”

You feel your heart clench. You know he wants to be with you, to hold your hand, to comfort you, and to experience this together. “Spence,” you whisper, voice soft but full of conviction. “I want nothing more than for you to be here with me. That we experience this together. But we’ll get through it. And I won’t do it alone. I have my friends. I have the team and JJ, also with children, who will help me. We’ll manage it somehow.”

You feel your voice take on a hint of certainty as you continue. “And we’ll keep trying to get you out of here as quickly as possible. I promise you, we'll do everything we can to get you back with me. I'm now in my eighth week, Spence. We still have a little time, and I will fight to get you back here before the birth date. I don’t know how, but I’ll make sure you’re there when our baby comes.”

Spencer lets out a small, shaky breath as he hears your words. For a moment he just sits there, the smile gone, and yet in his eyes you can see that deep love and gratitude flowing through him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are so incredibly strong. And you are here, despite everything that has happened. You're still there for me. I… I love you so much.”

You swallow, the lump in your throat almost too big to swallow. You want to tell him so many things, make so many promises. But your voice cracked as you replied, “I love you too, Spence. And I will always be there for you. We will get through this together, no matter what happens. We have each other. And that’s the most important thing.”

But suddenly you hear the bang of the door and the prison guard appears in the window, a sign that the time is around o'clock. “I'm sorry, unfortunately time is up. You have to go now,” he says. You take a deep breath and withdraw your hand from the glass.

You give him one last look and you know that this moment is yours - even if it's too short. You smile at him through the glass. “I have to go, Spence,” you say quietly, your voice almost breaking. “But I will come back. And we will do it. We’ll get you out of here soon. You’ll be with me again, I promise you.”

Spencer nods, his eyes following you, and there's an unspoken promise in his expression. “I'm waiting for you. I love you,” he says goodbye. “I love you too,” you say, your voice firm and full of determination. You let your gaze rest on him again, then you slowly stand up, turn around and leave, the thought of him and what you will go through together in your heart.

The hallway is empty as you close the door behind you. You know you don't have to walk this path alone. And you will do everything you can to bring Spencer back - for the team, for yourself, and for the little life you will soon create together.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #prison reid

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angel-sweets666 · 1 year ago

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stuck together

Barbarian bakugo x princess! Reader

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin. CHAPTER TWO HERE

warnings and stuff inside of the story: talks of virginity, talks of a virginity check (its accurate to the time period ok?) a/n should I make this a series? I think it’d be fun but idk ur rich btw so just like there’s rich stuff.

THE FULL VERSION IS OUTTT, truely ask and you shall receive. Anyways this is the full edited and lengthened part one I hope it’s better then the sneak peak I gave you guys

AGED UP

Mitsuki leaned back, her piercing gaze fixed on your parents. "So, what do you say? You give us your daughter, and we'll form an alliance," she proposed, pausing for their response. "It would offer protection from the Todoroki kingdom Flamoria, no?" The blonde woman smiled at your father, trying to sway him.

Flamoria had a habit of attacking your home kingdom, however in recent years the bakugos have managed to not only defeat the todorokis but make their kingdom subservient to them.

Your mother hesitated. "I mean, I dunno…"

"We'll do it," he interrupted, cutting off your mother.

"Huh?!" Your mother turned to him, shock evident on her face.

"Perfect. Sign here," Mitsuki said smoothly, handing them a piece of paper which already had both mitsuki and masarus names written down. It was a betrothal agreement, arranging the marriage between you and her hot-tempered son, Bakugo.

Your father reached for the pen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. "This will secure our safety and ensure a powerful ally," he murmured, almost convincing himself as much as anyone else.

"But our daughter…" your mother started, her voice filled with concern and disbelief. She looked at Mitsuki, then back at your father, torn between the political necessity and the love for her child.

"We don't have a choice," your father replied firmly, signing the paper. "This alliance is crucial for our kingdom's survival. The Empyrean empire is strong.”

Mitsuki's smile widened as she took the signed document. "Excellent. You won't regret this. Bakugo will make a fine husband, many heirs will come from this, she is a virgin right?” The blonde asks “we can get her checked for it, *name* was very sheltered growing up so we can assure you she’s a virgin.” Your father explains, leaning back in his own squeaky wooden chair. His gaze turns to your mother, who seems distraught about marrying off her child to the barbarian prince. Someone famous for being a violent person.

at 17 years old bakugo had brought back the head of a powerful tribe leader and put it on a stick for everyone to see, at 18 years old he had gathered a small army of men and defeated the midoriya kingdom and had a bloody cloak from the one of the dead soilders to prove it. Then at 20 years old bakugo had forced izuku, the Feywood king to surrender his crown. Which put feywood in the empyrean empire. No one knows where izuku midoriya currently is, all the people know is that he was last scene getting dragged by his green locks by bakugo and was never seen again.

Later on

“YOU ARRANGED ME TO WHO!?” You screamed, staring at your parents in complete horror. How could they do this to you? You make one wrong move and your own husband would order your death! “Look it’s not so bad..” “NOT SO BAD? HES KILLED HUNDREDS! THOUSANDS EVEN” “He won’t kill you though!” Your father exclaimed, An attempt to calm you. “Look, bakugo may seem like a man killing war machine of a prince but his parents assured us that he’s very gentle with women.” You scoffed, leaning your weight to one hip “bullshit. He’s gonna kill me. Brutally, he’s gonna hack off my head just you watch”

Over the next few weeks, you tried everything to call off the arrangement. You attempted to run away before the virginity check, faked illness, and came up elaborate excuses. Nothing seemed to work. Your parents were stubborn, insisting that you marry Katsuki Bakugo for the strength of their own kingdom.

Lying in bed, you tossed and turned, unable to escape the looming dread of marrying the great, scary barbarian prince, soon to be barbarian king. What if he rips your head off just because you refuse to give him a kiss? The thought made your heart race with fear.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. A maid entered, her eyes gloomy with pity . "Your Highness? Tomorrow we will wake you early to help you begin packing for the travel to the Empyrean Kingdom," she said softly, her voice trembling as she tried to avoid any kind of trouble.

You groaned and turned your head toward her. "When am I being sent to them?" you asked

"U-uh, most likely the day after tomorrow," the maid stammered, clearly uneasy with your distress.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your impending fate settle even heavier on your shoulders. "I see… thank you," you muttered.

You looked back at the red headed maid “How far is the journey?” You asked her softly, she fidgeted with her fingers “a-about two days, they live f-far from our kingdom your highness” she stammered. You smiled to the red head and dismissed her.

As she left you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. The thought of being married off to someone you had never met, someone with a terrifying reputation, filled you with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Your parents decision felt like a betrayal, a sacrifice of your happiness for the supposed greater good of the kingdom

You stood in the corner of your large room, watching as numerous servants took gowns, corsets, shoes, and other clothing items, placing them into bags. "U-uh, don’t barbarians wear less formal clothes? Shouldn’t I bring less?" you asked the maids. All of them turned to look at you, a hint of surprise on their faces.

"Her Highness makes a point," the same red-headed maid from the night before whispered to an older maid. The older maid, seemingly more experienced, turned toward you with a thoughtful expression.

"You're right, Your Royal Highness. They would probably end up burning these clothes or turning them into barbarian-styled garments," she conceded.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in resignation. "What do barbarian women wear?" you asked the older maid, hoping for some clarity.

"Hm… flowy skirts, I’ve seen a few wear headdresses," she replied, as some of the gowns were hung back up in the closet. The maids began to sift through your belongings, selecting items that might be more appropriate for your new life.

As you watched the process, you couldn’t help but glance out the window. Your mother and father were walking in the garden, deep in conversation. They seemed so in love, so perfectly matched, yet they were throwing you into a marriage that promised nothing but misery. The contrast between their happiness and your dread was almost unbearable.

"Your Highness, we’ll pack lighter, more practical clothing for your journey," the older maid reassured.

"Thank you," you murmured, though your heart wasn't in it. The thought of being dressed in unfamiliar clothes, adapting to an unknown culture, and being wed to a man you feared only added to your anxiety.

As the servants continued their work, you wandered over to your bed, sinking down onto the edge. The weight of your impending departure pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You had grown up surrounded by luxury and love, and now you were being sent away, to marry probably the most violent man you’ve ever heard of

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the future that awaited you. Would you ever find happiness in the Empyrean Kingdom? Would Katsuki Bakugo, the fierce and terrifying prince, ever come to care for you, or would you be nothing more than a means to an end?

"Your Highness, is there anything else you would like us to pack?" one of the younger maids asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, wiping away a stray tear. "No, just… make sure to leave out a few comfortable things for me to wear until we leave."

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied, her expression sympathetic.

As the maids continued their preparations, you lay back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, knowing that soon you would be leaving them behind.

"So, what's the barbarian kingdom like?" you asked, looking over to the maids. The older maid once again turned her head to look at you.

"Most of the people live in either big wooden houses with all sorts of weapons around or in these hut-like tent things. Either way, they have all these symbols painted on them," she described, clearly having been to the Empyrean Kingdom before.

"And what about the Bakugos? Where do they live? You asked

"They live in a stone castle with intricate paintings on it, and there's a lot of security. The last time I was there, they had spikes on the bridge leading to the castle, with people's heads mounted on them," the old maid replied,

"How long ago were you there?" you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine at the gruesome detail.

"When the young prince was about fifteen, so around five years ago," she said, placing one last corset into a bag.

You glanced at the six bags of items packed for your journey, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. It was a smaller amount than you had anticipated, yet it seemed to signify the end of one life and the beginning of another.

"Did you meet the prince?" you asked, trying to glean any information that might help you understand the man you were to marry.

"Briefly," she replied, her expression softening. "He was intense, even as a teenager. Always training, always pushing himself. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a loneliness."

You sighed, trying to reconcile the image of the fierce, terrifying prince with the glimpses of vulnerability the maid described. "And the people there? How are they?"

"Fierce, proud, and loyal," the older maid said. "They value strength above all else, but they also have a deep sense of honor and community. If you earn their respect, they'll defend you with their lives."

The more you learned, the more daunting your future seemed. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing that the barbarian kingdom, despite its harsh exterior, had its own codes and values.

As the maids continued their work, you tried to imagine what life in the Empyrean Kingdom would be like

"Is there anything else I should know?" you asked, your voice softer, almost hesitant.

The older maid paused, considering your question. "Just remember, Your Highness, that if you respect them and they’ll respect you."

Her words resonated with you, giving you a small but vital sense of empowerment. You nodded “alright, seems easy enough..”

The day that you needed to travel to the empyrean kingdom came, your parents watched you walk to the carriage by the gate as your mother sobbed into your fathers chest.

The ride to the Empyrean Kingdom was grueling. As the carriage rattled over uneven roads, you gazed out the window, the lush greenery of your homeland gradually giving way to the rugged, bushy but covered in tall trees landscape of the barbarian territory. The closer you got, the more your anxiety grew, each kilometre bringing you closer to the empyrean land

When you finally arrived at the castle, you were struck by its threatening look. The stone walls were decorated with weird red painted symbols, and the spiked bridge, as described by the maid, loomed menacingly ahead. Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the carriage, taking in the harsh surroundings.

A group of stern-faced and very attractive guards escorted you inside. The castle's interior was as intimidating as its exterior—dimly lit, with weapons and trophies of past battles displayed prominently on the walls. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you were led through the cold halls. You swore that if you listened close enough you could hear peoples screams in the dungeons below. Fuck was this hell with its 7 rings?

Finally, you were brought to a large chamber where a tall, muscular figure stood with his back to you. His spiky blonde hair was unmistakable. He was busy looking at a sheet of paper, the one oddly similar to the ones your parents shown you when they first announced your betrothal to bakugo. As he slowly turned to face you, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. He looked almost angry at you, furious even. Which was confusing because you’ve known this man for a whole 10 seconds

he was tall and about 6ft with messy blonde hair, scars all over his body and face, and piercings on his ears and lip.

"So, you're the princess they sent," Katsuki said, his voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression one of barely concealed annoyance. Katsuki had a deep voice that you couldn’t tell if you found attractive or if you wanted to run away and hide.

You straightened your back, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. "I am," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady but it ended up sounding shaky.

Bakugo scoffed, looking you up and down as if to check if you were just a weak small baby or strong enough to be a wife and a queen “Great. Another weakling to babysit," he muttered under his breath.

Anger formed within you at his dismissive attitude. "I am not a weakling," you snapped. "And I am certainly not here to be babysat."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see about that," he said, turning away from you. "Follow me. There's no point in wasting time."

You clenched your fists, biting back a come back to insult him with as you followed him through the castle. Every step echoed in the vast, cold corridors. His steps much louder then yours due to his much larger frame

Bakugo led you to a large hall where a group of people—presumably his advisors and some of the castle staff—were gathered. He introduced you curtly, barely sparing you a glance as he did so. The looks you received ranged from curiosity to outright hostility, they clearly didn’t want you here. Just like the old maid back had home had warned, these people hated the weak.

After the introductions, Bakugo dismissed everyone, including you. "You'll be shown to your chambers. Don't get in my way or else," he said, theblonde clearly trying to end the conversation between you two before he could get sucked into some conversation he didn’t waht

You followed a servant to your chambers, a mix of anger and sadness within you. The room was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle, but it did little to lift your spirits. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of your new reality settle over you.

Over the next few days, you tried to find your place in the castle. The people were distant and wary, their lack of trust clear in their every interaction with you. And Bakugo… he was even worse than most . He ignored you most of the time, and when he did speak to you, it was with a cold, dismissive tone that made your blood boil. He always had a tone of sass, trying to get under your skin constantly.

as the days grew closer and closer to your wedding date he seemed to just get more and more annoying, constantly having some tone of sass. Never wanting to talk to you and constantly flirting with your maids, you even went the effort to fire atleast 4 of them to keep their grotty hands to themselves.

“you done firing my staff now?” Bakugo grumbled as he caught up with you in the stone candle lit halls “your staff? You mean my staff? My staff who you seem to love flirting with” you corrected him, looking over your shoulder at him. The blonde furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed “I pay for them there for their my staff.” He growled, asking faster in an attempt to intimate you “actually, your parents pay for the staff.” “Hah?” “Your parent pay for the staff so their not your staff, their the palaces staff.” You said ignorantly as you played with the lace of your dress. “You gonna get out of that frill fest you call a gown?” He asked, again trying to insult you “if I do I’m gonna shove it up your ass” “excuse me?”

“Want me to say it slower? I—WILL—SHOVE—MY—GOW”

“OKAY OKAY SHUT UP WOMAN” he growled at you and walked off in spite “THATS WHAT WHAT I THOUGHT. THATS WHAT I THOUGHT.” You angrily yelled back to him, which in real aspect you were yelling at the back of his ignorant head. You huffed and stormed away in the opposite direction as you wanted nothing more then to get away from that man. As you stomped down the halls, footsteps echoing with each step; you heard a male voice call out to you

“Princess.”

you looked over, a certain brown haired man similar looking to katsuki stared back at you. It was king Masaru “I was looking for you” he says, walking towards you. You quickly curtsied to the king “About what?” You asked “we have a wedding date for you and my son” he smiled warmly as if this was a good thing “o-oh.. and when may that be..?” Your eyebrows furrowed with frustration “a month from now, they will date you to get your gown fitted this week” he seemed overly happy about something neither you or his temperamental son wanted.

“Will I wear a wedding dress from my country or your country?” You asked softly, trying to keep your cool “uh.. our country.” He informed you “I’d rather wear my own wedding gown though, your majesty” “well.. you belong to our kingdom now. We can give you a dress that’s a mix of the two if you’d rather” he compromised, trying to keep with both your and his kingdom. Letting out a sigh your shoulders dropped “I suppose that be okay…” a look of mild disappointment on your face “wonderful, I’m glad we could come to a compromise” he smiled and walked off, an electric blonde guard following close behind him who you earlier learned his name was kaminari. The blonde goofily smiled to you, he seemed like a character. The two men walked off as they chatted, rolling your eyes you too began to walk in the direction of your bedroom chambers.

you couldn’t sleep that night, you tried changing your nightgown, exercising, reading a book, meditating, everything! nothing would help you sleep this night, you wondered if it was the weird interaction with king Masaru or the fact your own fiance was when you think about it was cheating on you with your own staff members. you slowly slid out of bed and out of your silk sheets, rubbing your face up and down with your hands with frustration. Looking down at your feet you sighed, looking out of the window. the night sky was so peaceful unlike your mind which was running with less the pleasant thoughts. How could you get Katsuki to like you? or at least tolerate you in some way so he wouldn't be the most annoying little shit.

The creak of the door hinges squeaks as you pushed the heavy wooden door open, wincing at the high pitch noise. Slowly but quietly gou walked towards the chambers of your future husband. As you approached the door you hear two voices come from the inside

“you’ll need to learn to cherish and care for her eventually”

“why would I do that?” “She is your fiancé! Your future wife! Future mother of your heirs!”

“you except me to fuck her too? Shit.”

“Yes obviously! Your gonna need heirs for our kingdom!”

“fine. Before or after this whole wedding?”

“well In her kingdom, you two do that on the wedding night but to be honest I don’t really care when you do her”

“Too easy”

safe to say your whole face was pink, with either anger or arousal but you couldn’t tell

Tag list!

@sagejin @teeesthings @hiimsaraandyou

@peachysuguru @luvgumii

@v3n7s @iangeeluv

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wildernessuntothemselves · 2 years ago

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 2

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 6.3

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, dry humping, degradation, dom!reader, sub!beomgyu, fleshlights, beomgyu being a perv and using oc's panties

You step into the apartment, hoping against hope that you won’t find Beomgyu in there. It’s been a few days since your fight, and you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder–ignoring his text messages, giving him one-word replies whenever he speaks to you, pretending you’re too busy to continue the marathon of whatever stupid show you were currently watching–and every time you do that, he’d look so heartbroken you have to fight for your life to not forgive him then and there.

But fate hates you, or maybe it was by Beomgyu’s design, because as soon as you step into the living room, you see Beomgyu on the couch, fiddling with his guitar. He looks up when he hears you enter.

You try to make a run for it, sight set on your bedroom door, but Beomgyu quickly springs up and calls your name. “Wait! I wanna talk to you.”

“Well, I don't wanna talk to you.” You mutter, bee-lining towards your room, but Beomgyu is quicker. It only takes him a couple of large steps to put himself between you and your bedroom door.

“Please!” He begs. “Just talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk right now.” You try to push past him but he won’t budge.

“No, please, listen. I’m sorry for kissing you. I was just… I never got an A before. I didn’t think I could get an A. You know me. You know how everyone thinks that I’m so stupid. I know you think that I’m stupid. It just meant a lot to me. I was so excited to show you that I’m not always such a dumbass.”

You sigh. "I know you're not a dumbass."

“But I am. I’m such a dumbass and I’m so sorry for kissing you but please don’t leave me.”

“Leave you?” You stare at him incredulously. “Beommie, I’m not going to leave you. What makes you think I would?”

“Well you haven’t been talking to me. I thought you were done with me.” He says glumly and you laugh. “No, silly. I was just giving you the silent treatment. Never heard of it?”

"So we’re still friends?" He asks hopefully, tears in his eyes, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Of course, we are. Don't be silly." You reach out to run a hand through his hair, and he happily leans into your touch. "Okay. Promise me we'll never stop being friends. I can't lose you."

You hesitate. This is why he can’t know you’re in love with him. It would ruin you. "I promise." .

“Good.” He gives a big sigh of relief before he throws you a mischievous grin. “Are you going to come see me practice for the big gig today? I need my groupie.”

You smack his shoulder. “I’m not your groupie.”

“You can be. Maybe we can sneak off and mess around backstage.” He pulls you by the hips and rests his forehead against yours but doesn't attempt to kiss you.

"Beommie… I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?” He whines like a brat, “I won’t try to kiss you again, I promise. I'll be your good boy."

God, the things those simple words do to you. You could never have imagined the man you’ve thirsted after for years acting so needy for you, but you can’t let this go on any longer. It fucking killed you to have him kiss you, knowing it didn’t mean the same to him as it did to you. If you keep this up, you’ll only open yourself up for more hurt. You have to protect yourself.

"I just don't want us to get mad at each other again."

"We won't." He tries to reassure you, but you put a hand to his chest and push him away. "No, gyu. It was fun but we can’t do this anymore.”

He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips to press a kiss against your palm, making your heart flutter. "Then what's going to motivate me to do good?"

"Ice cream?" You suggest, taking your hand away, and he groans. “What’s rock and roll about that?”

You snort. “Your band name is tomorrow by together. There is nothing rock and roll about you guys.”

“Okay, ouch. Groupie invitation revoked.”

__________________

Watching Beomgyu play his guitar is like watching magic happen. Even when he messes up or is struggling–the way he’s just so immersed and serious about his craft is so inspiring and you feel so lucky to be able to witness it.

It was a moment like this–seeing him so lost in the music–when you first realized you’re in love with him. And now, a few years later, that love has only grown stronger.

“He really is an idiot.” You hear a familiar voice next to you and look to the side to see Yeonjun also looking at Beomgyu.

“What do you mean?”

“If I had a girl look at me the way you’re looking at him, I would never let her go.” He says so casually as if he hadn’t just exposed your entire guts out to the world.

“What–-why would you–I–” You sputter, getting even more flustered at the amused look on his face. Damn him. You take a moment to recollect yourself. “Don’t be silly, Yeonjun. We’re just friends.”

“Are you? Then how come you won’t go out with me?”

You roll your eyes. “Have you ever considered that you just might not be my type?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, looking at you like he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Oh, please, I’m everyone’s type. What, you don’t like tall, handsome men? Lead singers? Really talented lovers?”

You suppress the blush his last comment intended to entice in you. “I already told you. I can’t go out with a guy who will flirt more with his fans than me.”

“Aw, are you jealous, baby? You know I can clean my act up for you.” He moves to get closer to you, his hand reaching out to wrap around you, when suddenly Beomgyu steps in between you two. “Leave her alone, Yeonjun.”

“Why? She likes it.” Yeonjun grins, sending you a wink, and you stick your tongue out at him, making him laugh. Yeonjun tries to reach out to mess up your hair in revenge, but Beomgyu intercepts him.

“No, she doesn’t. Now, leave.”

“Alright. Alright. Chill. I’ll leave for now but if you’re not gonna snatch her up then don’t blame me for trying.” He sends you a wink, making you blush. “See you later, doll.”

You bite your lip, staring at the ground to try to get your blush under control. You don’t like Yeonjun like that. Well, at least not near as much as you like Beomgyu, but you still can’t help the effect he has on you. He’s just so charming, and if you hadn’t been so absolutely in love with Beomgyu, you would’ve definitely been under him long ago.

“You really shouldn’t encourage him.” Beomgyu says irritably, “You know he’s a manwhore.”

You shrug. “I know but it’s still nice to have a man’s attention.”

“Hey, you have my attention.” He protests, and you stay silent, giving him a cryptic look.

“What?” He narrows his eyes at you, and you shake your head, dispelling any stupid thoughts of confessing your undying love for him. “Nothing. It’s just not the same. You’re my best friend. He could be something more.”

“Oh.” Beomgyu steps back, frowning. “Um…okay. I understand that, but do you really need it from Yeonjun? I just… he’s my bandmate, you know?”

“I know.” You say, even though you really don’t. Why should that matter? “But he’s sweet and charming–”

Beomgyu groans, cutting you off. “Please. Anyone but Yeonjun.”

“Beomgyu—”

“Please.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You don’t know why it matters so much to him but you honestly don’t care. It’s not like you have your eyes on Yeonjun or anyone else but Beomgyu. You’re hopeless anyway.

__________________

You and Beomgyu have easily settled back into your old routine, pre-hooking up. Like right now, you’re cuddled up on his bed watching a movie as if nothing had ever happened–as if you’ve never touched him–as if just the feeling of his body wrapped around yours isn’t scorching your skin.

“I can’t believe we’re watching this stupid movie again.” You groan, shoveling popcorn into your mouth.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Top Gun is one of the greatest pieces of cinema ever made.” He defends his favorite movie fiercely.

“The greatest bore ever made you mean.” You grumble and he kicks your leg. “Shut up. I don’t insult your stupid horror movies when you make me watch them.”

“You just did!” You retort, and he scoffs. “Well they’re stupid.”

“Whatever. We’re watching The Shining after this.”

“No we’re not!” He protests heatedly, and you answer back just as passionately. “Why not? We agreed we would watch one movie horribly picked by you, and another very superiorly picked by me.”

He looks down at his hands, mumbling quietly. “You know those twins freak me out. I won’t be able to sleep for a week if we watch that.”

“Aw, Beommie.” You coo, propping a finger under his chin to make him look up at you. “Well tough luck, wuss. We’re watching it.”

“I hate you.” He whines, burying his face into your neck.

Yup, all back to normal. You don’t want to cry because just the light brush of his breath against your skin sends your nervous system into overdrive. Nope. You’re all good. Just two friends watching a terrible movie.

_______________________________

For a guy who just said he’s so afraid of The Shining, he won’t be able to sleep, he sure is sleeping very soundly right now.

You glare down at him. He made you sit all through that stupid movie and he’s knocked out half-way through yours. You’d wake him up and give him a severe talking to if you weren’t so incredibly, wonderfully comfortable right now. You feel so warm and toasty with his long body wrapped around you like this, and the view you have–his face resting against your chest so close you can count his eyelashes… it was heaven for you. You suppose you’ll let him sleep for a bit more.

Maybe you should get some shut-eye too. You’ve been so tired staying up all night studying for the test you took earlier this morning that you can’t help dozing off yourself, his embrace more comfortable than a bed of clouds to you.

You were feeling so fucking peaceful, the weight of sleep helping to push down all your negative feelings that you don’t even pay much attention to Beomgyu’s repeated movements at first, just chalking them up to him shifting around to try to get comfortable like you.

Sure, it was taking longer than was reasonable and he was pressing himself closer and closer to you each time, but it’s not like you were going to complain. The closer to Beomgyu, the better, right? It’s only when you feel something hard pushing up against your thigh that you realize what exactly is happening.

"Beommie, what are you doing?" You mutter sleepily.

He goes rigid and it takes him a while to respond. "...nothing."

You would have let it go if you didn’t still feel his hard cock against you. “Oh, really?” You challenge, moving your thigh up against him, ripping a deep groan from his throat. “Then what is this?”

“Okay, okay, I really missed you.” He groans, wrapping his entire body around you. “And you just felt too good against me.”

You scoff. “Have you no self control?” You ask even as you move your thigh against his cock.

“No.” He admits, full on humping you. “Just need you.”

“Beomgyu…” You pretend to hesitate, not wanting to let him off the hook quite so easily, not wanting him to see how much you need him too.

“Please, baby.” He begs, voice even deeper with sleep and all husky. That was your undoing.

“Fine. You can keep going, fuck me.” You ‘finally’ relent, but the spoiled brat isn’t content with that. He tries to pull your shorts down. “Can I actually fuck you?”

“No! I meant you can fuck my thigh.” You clarify, silencing his emerging protests with your finger in his mouth. “It’s bad enough that I’m letting you hump me like a rabid dog. You don’t get more.”

“But this is so humiliating.” He whines through your finger before burying his face against your shoulder as he continues to vigorously dry hump you, miming fucking you the best he can.

"I've seen you hump your body pillow before– More times than I would have liked– This is an upgrade for you, you pervert."

"You're so mean." He whines again and you snort. "I'm helping get your virgin ass off. How am I mean?"

“You’re just so mean.” He cries, grinding fervently against you.

“And you’ve gone brain-dead again.” You laugh, “Come on, baby. Just focus on getting off. You’re almost there aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then come on. I want to feel you cumming against my thigh. It would be really fucking sexy.” You drawl, pulling his head back so he can look at you.

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah.” You trace a finger over his perfect lips, resisting the urge to kiss them. Fuck, now that you’ve had a taste, it’s like you’ve developed a craving to them. This is why you should have never let him kiss you. “You’re so pretty, wanna see you lose control.”

“Okay–okay… if you want it.” He stares at you deeply, and you nod.

“I really do.” You murmur, “Want you to cum all over yourself for me.”

“You’re so fucking dirty.” He growls, pushing your legs open and pressing himself between your them so he’s humping your pussy instead of your thigh.

“Hey! Bad boy!” You screech, stuttering when his cock brushes against your clit. Your hand goes out to grab him by the hair. “Bad b-boy.”

“Please, please, don’t make me let go.” He pants, his hips driving into yours roughly. “I’m almost there. Gonna cum for you, pretty.”

You hesitate at the nickname, loosening your grip.

"No, pull my hair harder. I like it when you’re rough with me."

"Now who's the dirty one?"

"I can't help it." He sucks in a sharp breath, "You drive me crazy."

Well, that makes two of you.

"Fuck, Beommie." You gasp, pulling on his hair and making him lose it. The way his cock is grinding against your clit making you reach the edge yourself. If he keeps this up, you might actually…

"Oh god, yes, yes, fuck!' He shudders and can tell by the warmth soaking his pants and the way he presses his hips snug against yours that he had orgasmed.

Oh well, so much for that.

"Did… did you cum?" He asks once he had caught his breath a bit.

"No." You admit awkwardly, a little breathless yourself, and he looks disappointed. "It's okay, I'll take care of it."

"But I wanna do it." He whines. “Let me.”

"No, Beomgyu." You refuse to let him feel how wet you are right now. He can’t know how much you want him. You can’t let him touch you because if he did, you don’t know if you would ever get enough.

"Why not?” He huffs, annoyed. “Why don't you want me to touch you? Do you find me so repulsive?"

"Don't be ridiculous.” You grit out. How very Beomgyu to be this oblivious. “You’re very handsome.”

"You clearly don't think so. Otherwise you wouldn't freak out every time I try to touch you." He snaps, “Listen, I know I’m no Yeonjun, but you don’t have to make me feel so hideous.”

“This has nothing to do with Yeonjun or you, you ass.” You lie through your teeth. "I'm just not ready to let anyone touch me yet, okay? Unlike you I’m not just looking to get my rocks off. This actually means something to me.”

“So it’s okay to meaninglessly get someone off but it’s not okay to let them get you off too?” He calls you out on your flawed logic.

“Yes.” You double down anyway, and he opens his mouth to argue but you beat him to it, realizing you need to end this discussion before you say something stupid. “See? This is exactly why I didn’t want us to hook up again. Maybe we should–”

“No, no! Fine, I’ll back off.” He puts his hands up in the air, literally backing off. “I won’t try to touch you or kiss you or do anything to you anymore. Only you can do what you want.”

“Beomgyu–”

“Please! I really don’t want this to end. It feels good being with you.” He pleads. God, he has no idea what he’s doing to you. It’s unfair that he has this much effect on you and he doesn’t even know it.

You really shouldn’t say yes. This is only going to end in disaster, if you say yes.

“Fine.”

____________

“I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m just going to go home.” Beomgyu exclaims, freaking out in his small dressing room. He and his band have been invited to play at one of the most popular spots in town. It’s a huge opportunity for them, and so naturally it comes with a great deal of pressure, which Beomgyu is definitely feeling.

“No! You can’t!” You intercept him, holding onto him tightly so he won’t escape. “You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for years! You can’t just go.”

“But I am freaking out. I am going to make a fool of myself if I go on that stage. I know I will.” He cries, looking at you with pure panic in his eyes that is actually contagious. But you fight to keep in control of yourself. You have to be the rational one for him.

“You are going to do great–”

“You don’t know that. They will hate me. They’re boo me. Oh, god, they’re going to throw things at me. I have to go. I have to–”

You grab his face and kiss him, shutting him up, and even though this time you’re prepared for the kiss, the feel of his lips still takes you off guard. There is nothing in the world that could prepare you for the electricity you feel whenever your lips touch, and this time when you hold onto him, it’s to keep yourself from falling to the ground.

“You won’t.” You tell him once you bring yourself to pull away from the kiss. Or once you run out of oxygen that is. “You’re the most talented musician I know. I know you’re freaking out right now but once you’re out there, you’re going to put on the greatest show those people have ever seen. I know you will, because you’re that good!”

“You kissed me.” He mumbles, confused.

“Well, you wouldn’t shut up.” You mutter nervously.

“Right.” He clears his throat, and it’s silent for a few seconds before he looks at you shyly. “You really think I’m the most talented musician, you know?”

“I know you are.” You say truthfully.

“Even more than Yeonjun?” He asks and you roll your eyes. “Even more than Yeonjun.”

He grins widely, triumphant. “Okay. I will go out there and show those fuckers how it’s done.” He says confidently, taking a step towards the stage before he quickly doubles back. “But before I go… another kiss for good luck?”

Oh god, you’re being put through hell and you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Don’t get used to this.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into another kiss.

_________________

Beomgyu does amazing. Maybe it’s the stage lights, maybe it’s the sway of the music, maybe it’s the energy of the crowd, maybe it’s how happy he looks up there–but you’ve never been so in love with him. And so proud, and so amazed, and so bewitched.

And it seems everyone around you thinks the same. The crowd absolutely went wild for him and his band. They cheered loudly after every song. They hooted and clapped whenever one of the boys interacted with them. They enthusiastically answered their questions and followed their requests. It all went so well, you just know this gig has secured them many more in the future, and you like to think that you helped in your own way, by keeping the lead guitarist from running away before the concert.

Said guitarist grabs you and hauls you off the ground in a suffocating hug as soon as he sees you backstage. “Did you see that? Did you hear how loudly they cheered for us?”

“So loudly I think one of my eardrums has ruptured actually.” You laugh, making a show of pulling at your ear. “You guys did so amazing, Beommie! The band absolutely blew everyone away!”

“Who cares about the band? I rocked!” He shakes you excitedly.

“Yes, you did.” You easily give in to him fishing for compliments. He deserves it. “You were the star of the show. I heard so many people around me–”

“Oh my god.” Beomgyu gasps, staring at something behind you.

“What?”

“It’s Haeun.”

You look back to see the devil herself. “Oh.”

“Beommie!” She greets him enthusiastically, coming over. Beommie? That’s your nickname for him. You’re the only one who calls him that!

“You did really well.” She enthuses, making him puff his chest out like a goddamn rooster. “Y-you l-liked it?”

“Of course, I did. I always knew you’re so talented.”

You can’t help the snort that escapes you, and they both look at you, Beomgyu mortified and Haeun unimpressed. “Sorry, something was stuck in my throat.” You mutter, wishing the ground would swallow you up right about now.

“Anyways,” She rolls her eyes at you then pins him with a flirty look so thick you think you could actually suffocate on it “What I was saying is that you looked really good up there.”

He gulps, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She coos, stepping closer to him and running her hand down his arm through his sleeveless shirt until she reaches his hand and pulls it up, playing with his fingers. “You really know how to finger those strings, huh? I wonder if the guitar is the only thing you can play?”

Once again, you can’t keep in the noise of disgust that came from deep within you, but this time neither Beomgyu nor her pay any attention to you.

“Uh—well—I–” He stutters dumbly. Typical.

“Why don’t you and the band come to the party I am hosting Friday? Maybe you can show me those moves up close?” She winks at him.

“Hell y-yeah. I’ll be there.” He chokes out and she smiles widely. “Great. See you then.” She leans in to press a kiss to his cheek and you almost reach out to scratch her eyes out but you contain yourself.

She gives you one last snobby look before throwing her hair back and walking off. Beomgyu stares after her, dazed. "Am I crazy or did she just flirt with me?"

“Come on, Beomgyu, apes are more subtle than her.” You grumble, the fire of jealousy consuming your insides. “Anyways, you know she’s only doing this because you’re becoming successful, right? She always treated you as a loser before, never giving you the time of day, but now suddenly that you gain a shred of popularity, she starts liking you?"

"Oh." He pauses for a second, and you reach out to pat his back, wishing to comfort him, when he breaks into a huge grin. “So what you’re saying is that I’m popular and she likes me? Awesome!”

“Ugh.” You storm away, followed behind by a confused Beomgyu.

________________

“Since I did really well today, don’t I deserve a reward?” Beomgyu grabs you as soon as you’re back at your apartment, pulling you flush against him and trying to kiss you.

Now, you would have loved to give in. That kiss you shared earlier still tingles at your lips, but not after what he did. The nerve of him after slobbering all over another woman in front of you!

“Wait until the party, maybe she’ll give you your reward.” You push him away, disgusted at the thought of it. But Beomgyu continues proving to you why he easily wins the title of least aware person in the entire universe. “But I want my reward now.”

“God, Beomgyu, you really know how to turn a girl on.” You growl, shoving him out of your way. “Go to sleep.”

"What's your problem?" You hear him ask before you slam the door shut.

You rip your clothes off–band merch you wore to support the idiot–and put on a long shirt. Which as soon as you settle under the covers, you discover actually belongs to him, his scent all over it and drowning you in unwanted feelings.

You don’t care that she came on to him. You don’t care that she invited him to her party. You don’t care that he’ll probably go and she’ll make a move on him and he’ll fall deeper in love with her and she’ll have him all wrapped around her finger and–

Okay, you care. You care too much. You can’t handle the thought of it any longer, but you can’t reveal your real feelings. It will be the end of you. No, you have to bottle it all down.

‘You can’t let it show.’ You think to yourself as you curl into a ball, shutting out the outside world and even your own memories, trying to just be claimed by sleep.

But the world isn’t that fair, and through your curled form you can hear the sound of Beomgyu moaning out. You can’t quite hear what he’s saying but you’ve heard him enough times to know exactly what he’s doing.

You bet he’s thinking of her. You bet he’s imagining fingering her. You can’t allow that. Not while you’re lying here breaking over him.

You throw the covers off you and storm to his room, bursting the door open.

“Hey!” He cries out, trying to cover his junk.

You roll your eyes. “It’s just me. No need to freak out.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard you from my room.” You say plainly. “You weren't exactly subtle. Now let me see.”

“But I thought you–”

“Do you want it or not?”

He only hesitates for a second, the whore, before he throws the blanket away. You roll your eyes, getting onto the bed and grabbing his dick, pumping it in your hand. He immediately flops back, relaxing into your touch. “Oh god, I needed this.”

"Yeah? Got all horny from the way everyone was eyeing you up? You know you really gave Yeonjun a run for his money with how slutty you were acting." You mutter bitterly. Yes, you enjoyed the show, but it wasn’t only Haeun eyeing him up.

Beomgyu glares at you. "Can we not talk about him while you're fisting my cock?"

“Whatever.” You brush him off, focused on something else right now. "So, thinking of fucking any of your new fans?"

“Hmmm.” He mumbles, and you can see from the way his eyes have gone all glazed that he’s not paying attention. “You. I really wanna fuck you.” He thrusts into your hand, whining.

"You wish."

"I really do." He breathes out, and your own breath stutters. Man, this is dangerous but you can’t stop. You speed up your movement, making Beomgyu wince.

“Wait, dry, dry, hurts.” Beomgyu whines at the chafing feeling, and you almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for his next words. “Why don’t you put it in your mouth to get it wet?”

You snort, seeing right through him. “You’re not slick, gyu.”

“But it really is dry.” He pouts, making a show of expressing his pain as you continue to jerk him off, and you sigh, removing your hand. “Where is your lube?”

“In your mouth.” He replies like a smartass and you pin him down with a glare. “I can always stop, you know?”

“Okay, okay, it’s in the drawer.” He gives up, pointing to his bedside cabinet, and you quickly look away from his adorable pout, knowing if you look at it too long you’d just give him everything he wants.

“What the fuck is this?” You pause in your tracks once you open up the drawer.

“What?” He asks, a confused look on his face that quickly turns to horror once he sees what you’ve fished out of the drawer.

You hold up a fleshlight and a pair of panties silently, waiting for him to explain. Panties that you know too well, your own fucking panties in fact.

“I can explain.”

“Yes, please. Explain to me how you’re such a massive pervert who steals his best friend’s panties so he can jerk off with them.”

“You’re not just my best friend.” He protests lamely and your stupid heart swells up against your best efforts, only for him to smash it to pieces again. “We mess around and you get me so horny, I can't help but imagine what you'd feel like. But I know you don't want that so I had to get creative."

Well, it’s still a compliment, right? He’s jerking off with your panties, not hers. Then again, you’re his roommate and he has easier access to your underwear.

You throw the items at him. “Show me what you do with them.”

"But I don't wanna… I want you." He whimpers, leaning towards you and trying to kiss you.

"Tough luck.” You hiss, pushing him away. “I want to see."

He groans, grabbing the lube and squirting a generous amount onto the toy before pushing it in with his fingers… in and out, in and out.

Okay, that bitch may have had a point about his fingers.

"Get to it already." You snap, mouth dry.

"I'm just getting it ready, sheesh." He mutters, finally lining the toy up with his cock before moving it down his length.

"Oh…" He sighs, head falling back as the toy takes his cock.

"Feels good?" You whisper, and he nods, pulling the toy off with a wet sound, taking a second to catch his breath before pushing it down again.

"God, you're pathetic." You mutter, more to yourself than to him. You're so fucking turned on right now, you’re sure you’re more wet than that fucking toy. "Fucking a plastic pussy because you can't get laid?"

"You wanna volunteer to f-fuck me instead?" He grits out but it sounds more like a moan with how much he's struggling to not succumb to the pleasure.

“Is that what you think about when you're fucking yourself?" You ask and he hesitates, the toy slipping off his cock.

God, his cock looked so good–so hard and glistening and thick. You wanna throw that stupid toy away and take him instead… but you can't. So you grab the hand he has holding the toy and make him move it to his cock again.

He gasps as you push it back down. “Ah…y-yeah. Think about fucking you all the time.”

It takes everything in you not to put your hand between your legs and rub yourself off right now. “And what do you do with the panties?”

He freezes, a deep blush dusting his cheeks. “I don’t wanna say.”

Now that just makes you want to know all the more. “You know I can always leave?” You threaten and he groans, his hips bucking into the toy. “Stop saying that. It’s not fair.”

“Show me.” You insist and he whimpers, not looking at you as he grabs the panties with his free hand and pulls them towards his face, taking a whiff off them.

“Oh my god, you freak.” You gasp, your thighs pressing together at the obscene sight.

“No, please–”

“I didn't say you could stop.” You snap when he drops his hand and stops fucking his fleshlight.

He whimpers, bringing the cloth back to his face, his tongue peeking out to lick against the fabric.

“Fuck, you’re disgusting.”

He whines again, shaking his head. “Just wanna taste you.”

You cock your head to the side curiously. “You wanna taste me?”

“Uh-huh.” He nods dumbly, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the thought of it. Well, who are you to deny him something he wants this badly?

You put your hand down your shorts, nearly making him choke as he watches you rub your soaking pussy a little bit to coat your fingers before bringing them out and holding them for him to see. You spread your fingers apart, showing him the strings of arousal between them. “You want this?”

He drops the panties and sticks his tongue out like a dog begging for a treat, his hips never ceasing their rutting into his toy, the sticky sound of his cock pushing in and out ringing against your ears. “Please…please…”

“Okay, quit drooling.” You mutter in disgust at the saliva falling onto the sheets below, and move your hand towards him. As soon as your fingers are within reach, he takes them fully into his touch, moaning out at the taste.

He sucks them off, his tongue licking up any juices in between your fingers until there is none left. Then he pants, “More…sit on my face.”

You pull your hand away, your pussy quivering at the thought but you don’t let it show. “No way. You don’t deserve it.”

“Why not? I’ve been good. Haven’t I been good?”

‘Not when you’re thirsting over her.’ You think to yourself bitterly.

“Please.”

“I said no.” You shut him down, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun of your own. Finally giving into the temptation, you slip a hand into your shorts as you watch him continue to fuck his toy.

Beomgyu groans out loud. “Oh, come on. Now you’re just teasing me.”

“How am I teasing you?” You grin, rubbing your clit as you watch him lose it over you. Yeah, this is why you continue to do this. This will be your undoing.

“You know how much I wanna touch you. Just come on up and sit on my face.”

“No.”

“Please. I can make you feel better than your fingers can. Just give me a chance.”

“Oh please, you’re a virgin, Beomgyu. I know you have no experience. I’m better off fucking myself.” You laugh at him.

“Yes, I do. Look at this.” He leans forward, pressing his fleshlight against the bed and fucking into it.

“Is that how you imagine fucking me?”

“Yeah–you always take it so well.”

Fuck, he really knows how to get you going.

You shake your head. “Well I’m not a plastic toy for you to hammer your dick into. I need to feel pleasure too.”

“Then teach me.” He cries out desperately. “You can make me do whatever you want. I won’t say no.”

“Are you whoring yourself out to me?”

“Yes. I’m your whore.” He agrees, his dick thrusting wildly into his toy, and you in turn pushing your fingers into yourself and matching his pace, pretending he’s fucking you. “Just please do something. I’m going to burst.”

“But I want you to burst, baby.” You lean closer to him, brushing your nose against his. “I like how pathetic you look cumming on yourself or in a pocket pussy. You’re such a fucking loser.”

He’s nearly gasping at this point. “Come on, please. Wouldn’t having my cock inside you feel so much better than your fingers? Just pin me down and use me the way you like. I don’t mind.”

He’s driving you fucking crazy. You’re one second away from breaking. And maybe you would have, if he hadn’t kept talking.

“Just need to feel a real pussy.”

How does he always do this? He always ruins it for himself, always reminds you that you’re just a pair of tits and a warm pussy for him. Not who he really wants, just what’s available.

You sigh heavily, taking your fingers away from your pussy. “I’m getting bored. If you don’t blow your load now, then you can do it by yourself.”

“No, no. I can do it. I’m a good boy.”

“Yeah? Are you a good, pretty slut who cums on command?” You mock him, but he doesn’t care. He wants it too bad.

“Yeah. Just–just give me a kiss.” He pleads, and seeing your face, he quickly adds. “Just a kiss and I’ll empty my balls out for you.”

Well, it’s not like this would be the most egregious mistake you’ve ever made. You’ve already kissed him. Might as well get this over with and go back to your bed so you can wallow in how you’re nothing but a warm body to him.

“Fine.” You press your lips against his and he immediately opens his mouth, his tongue licking your lips, trying to push inside. You let him, wrapping your lips around his tongue and sucking on it before brushing against it with your own tongue. Meanwhile, you sneak your hand between you, taking control of the fleshlight and pumping it rapidly over his sensitive cock, not even giving him a chance.

“Do it then. Now.” You demand, your lips still connected together with a thick string of saliva. “Oh god, oh my god, cumming, cumming baby.”

He kisses you again, muffling the noises of his climax against your mouth, and you take every bit of it like you can never get enough.

But eventually he pulls back, his high over and not needing you anymore.

“God, that was crazy.” He says at last.

“Yeah. Learned a lot about you and what you like to do behind closed doors.” You mutter, and his eyes widen.

“Listen, it’s not–”

“It’s not what I think, I know. You’re just a pervert who needed some help getting off. I get it. But next time you take one of my panties, I’m breaking your arms.”

____________________________

A/N: well I think there is one more chapter or at most two left of this series. kind of a short one. what are we thinking so far? always open to hear ideas. i just thought of an ending but i'd love to hear from you guys. maybe i'll be inspired

Taglist: @wonwooz1 @yaorzu-blog @allylikesdabee @rkivezzs @malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop

this was just a provisional taglist as i don't usually do one. it's just a few people have specifically asked to be tagged so there you go

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #dom!reader #sub!idol #tomorrow x together smut #fem!reader

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veltana · 9 months ago

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Buy my heart - 3

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~1,2k

✦ Rating for this part: Mature

✦ Warnings/tags: Alpha!Bucky, Omega!Reader, slow burn, eventual smut, pet names (little darling/darling), mentions of gambling addiction.

✦ Series summary: In a desperate attempt to rescue your family from debt, you decide to auction yourself off. The alpha who purchases you turns out to be quite different from what you imagined, leading to a marriage that exists only on paper. However, when an omega moves in with an alpha who hasn't experienced a rut in years and is determined to keep things strictly professional despite his instincts, complications arise.

✦ In this part: The clothes arrive and you have dinner with Bucky.

✦ Note: Reblogs, comments and asks are much appreciated!

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

The contract is long. Bucky claims it's thin. Sitting at the small table at a window in your room, you do your best to go through it. The formal language makes it hard to decipher but so far you've been able to figure out a few things.

Bucky only needs a wife on paper. As far as you can tell, the contract doesn't require you to share a life or even a bedroom with him. There's also no mention of having kids, which is a relief. You're not going to live like a wife and husband, or an omega and an alpha. But still, there is an exclusivity clause.

A small part of you was hoping that now that you're with an alpha you wouldn't have to spend your heats by yourself. It's torture to go through it with just a toy, making it an endless spiral of pain where there should be pleasure. The few times you've had company during heats it's been great, but that was many years ago and he was a beta.

Also, how is Bucky going through his ruts alone? Does the clause only apply to you?

You're interrupted by a knock on the door and when you call for the person to come in, Natasha steps inside. “The clothes arrived, is it okay if they hang them in the closet?” Standing up, you nod dumbly, not really understanding what she means but then she gestures behind her and a slew of people swarm into your room.

In no time things are hanging everywhere in your walk-in closet. More clothes than you've ever had throughout your whole life. When the people are done they leave, but Natasha stays behind.

“As I said before, I didn't know what style you prefer, and not everything will fit. Just put that aside and we'll send it back.”

You find yourself empty of words, and tears burn the back of your eyes as you stare at the opulence of fabric.

“Hey, are you okay?” Natasha sounds concerned. “Here, sit down.” She guides you back down into the chair and takes the one opposite to you. A few straw tears roll down your cheeks but you quickly wipe them away.

“It's just a lot,” you confess with a wobbly smile. “The clothes?” “Yeah, and this,” you tap the papers on the table. “And this!” You wave your arm around the room. “This is the size of our living room at home that I shared with four other people.” Natasha nods. “Feels big?” “And quiet! I can't remember the last time it was quiet at home,” you sniffle.

Natasha smiles at you. “You'll be okay. And just so you know, you can ask anything but I can't guarantee it won't get back to Bucky. He's my friend and my boss.” “Why doesn't he marry you?” you ask. She laughs at that. “Oh, he asked! But he's like a brother to me.” “But he's not your brother by blood?” “No, we grew up close though. Our families cooperated a lot.” “Then wouldn't it make perfect sense for you to get married?” you ask confused. “It would. But I don't want to, and neither does he. He asked out of desperation, not because of some hidden feelings.”

You nod and start chewing your lip. “Anything else?” Shaking your head you just say, “Thank you for all the clothes.” “Don't mention it, I got to shop up someone else's money, it was fun,” she winks and stands up.

She seems to hesitate for a second but then decides to say. “I know Bucky is brusque sometimes, but he'll be the best alpha you've ever known, just give him some time.”

After Natasha leaves you read the rest of the contract and then decide to take a look in the closet. Previously you've only worn hand-me-downs and cheap stuff from the thrift store. Your sense of style is nonexistent and you're not sure what to do with all the options before you. Most of it is neutral but there are pops of bright colors scattered throughout.

Carefully you grab a skirt and hold it in front of you. It's soft and flowy. Too nice for you. From another place, you grab a shirt. It looks weird together with the skirt. Instead, you pick out a plain T-shirt. It reminds you of something you've seen other women wear at the coffee shop where you worked.

“I think that would look nice on you.” With a yelp you drop the clothes and turn to the door, finding Bucky leaning against the frame. “Sorry, darling, didn't mean to scare you.” “Don't worry,” you answer and quickly pick the clothes from the floor. “Dinner is in an hour and I wondered if you wanted to join me or have it up here.” “I'll join you, if you want.” “Yes, I do.” He looks around and nods in approval before his gaze shifts back to you. “Wear something nice.”

Choosing something nice proves difficult since everything is much nicer than anything you’ve ever owned. In the end, you settle on a simple, one-colored dress.

The bathroom is stocked with makeup still in its packaging and various hair styling tools and you do your best to look presentable. Once ready, you head to the dining room Bucky showed you earlier.

After taking a wrong turn and having to double back you finally find the room where Bucky is waiting. “Sorry, this place is a maze,” you apologize before sitting down across from him. “You'll learn in time,” he says, holding up his glass. In turn, you grab yours and he lightly touches it, the sound filling the room for a second.

The liquid is bubbly and slightly amber-colored, you think it's champagne. Carefully you take a sip and your whole mouth is bombarded with tastes you've never experienced before. You understand why rich people drink this.

“That's amazing,” you tell him. “Never had champagne before?” It's such a stupid question you can't help your response. “Yeah, that's why my family had to put me up for auction, to afford champagne,” your voice is filled with acid. A moment too late you realize who you're talking to.

Across from you, Bucky is not impressed, his eyes dark and his face impassive. “Sorry,” you say, avoiding his gaze and sinking into the chair, pulling your shoulders up to make yourself small. “It's lovely. Thank you.”

He puts his glass down. “Tell me about your family.” You'd rather talk about anything else but you don't feel like you're in a position to deny him a request like that at the moment.

“I lived with my parents and two younger brothers just outside the harbor district. Dad works there. I have two older sisters but I don't see them much.” “You still lived at home?” With a sigh you take another sip, hoping the alcohol will grant you strength to go through the memories.

“Dad works long days and mom works sometimes. We used to have it better, live more uptown, but…” you take a deep breath. “Turns out mom has a gambling problem and she had racked up quite a bit of debt with some bad people. My salary went towards helping to pay it off and I couldn't afford my own apartment. But I'd do anything for my family.”

Right then the food arrives. It's soup in a very small bowl. If this is what rich people eat for dinner, no wonder they're all so stiff and unbearable. They must be hungry all the time!

To avoid having to talk more about it, you concentrate on the food. It's delicious. One of the best things you've ever eaten. It's a shame the bowl is so small because you could have easily eaten double. Too quickly it's gone and for the first time you look up, noticing Bucky is only halfway done.

This dinner is turning out to be a real embarrassment for you. For the third time since you entered the room, you apologize for your behavior, and you feel it won't be the last. “I'm not used to eating slowly,” you explain. Bet Bucky is starting to regret buying you right about now. Maybe you can ask Natasha for some pointers on how to blend in more quickly. The servers soon come back to collect the dishes and you're left alone in silence.

“I have a question about the contract,” you say after a moment, hoping it will save you from discussing the previous topic more. “I said you're welcome to talk to my lawyer about any questions.” “I think I'd rather ask you about this one.”

A curious expression crosses his face. “Go on.” Gathering all your courage, you ask about the exclusivity clause, though you still feel embarrassed to bring it up. “If I understood correctly, there is no requirement to sleep together, in any kind of way.” “Correct,” he nods. “We're also not required to share a life, except for appearance's sake.” “Yes,” “What about when my heat comes, or your rut?”

“I haven't had a rut in years,” Bucky says matter-of-factly, then shrugs. “As for your heat, I'll make myself scarce and you're free to nest in your room as you like.”

The next course arrives before you can ask more questions. It's a very small sandwich with something gooey on top. The server pours wine for you into another of your glasses. You've heard about pairing wine with food but never done it in your life.

As they leave you ignore the food and ask him, “Are you on suppressants?” “No,” he answers shortly, clearly not fond of the topic. You can take a hint and you drop it, turning to the small sandwich. It's just as delicious as the soup but the conversation doesn't pick up after that.

#veltana writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader #alpha!bucky x omega!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #alpha!bucky #alpha!bucky barnes #omegaverse

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wintrcaptn · 1 month ago

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Apples and Butterflies Part 3

Joel Miller x reader

Summary : You caught your bf in bed with another girl two months before winter break. Now with no where to go for the next few weeks, your roommate invites you to her hometown so you don't spend the holidays alone.

But you never expected her dad to be the guy who pretended to be your date so you didn't look pathetic in front of your ex. The same guy you can't stop thinking about...Joel miller.

Part One | Part Two

A/N : hope you’re enjoying this little fic so far! Please leave feedback <3

Your POV

It didn't take too long for me to pack my suitcase. Jeans, knitted sweaters, dresses, and long sleeves. But as I folded the last few items, I stood there lost in my thoughts.

Thoughts that somehow lingered back to Joel. Coffee guy.

His broad shoulders. His salt and pepper wavy hair. The way his calloused hand felt against mine. His deep, southern accent. Just the thought of him made my stomach flutter.

Why was I standing here remembering every feature of his face? A man I had only known a few hours ago.

It didn't even matter, because I know if I had spent four years here and never ran into him until now? I'll never run into him again. It wasnt unusual to see the same faces around town. But his? I had never seen it before. There's no way I could possibly see him again.

That's not how fate worked.

"My dad should be here any minute to take us to the airport." Sarah, my roommate and best friend for the past four years, said.

I turned to her, scrunching my brows together. "Your dad flew here from Texas, just to fly back with you?"

She sighed, and nodded. "He's a little over protective. And doesn't help that I might have gotten lost one time and missed my flight." She chuckled. "And now he won't trust me to fly alone ."

I let out a soft laugh, the memory of that day resurfacing. She called me in a full panic, not being able to board her flight due to being late, and it was her first year without her dad. But he managed to get a last minute flight the next day to come get her himself.

That thought made my smile fade.

There was a part of me that quietly envied her for having someone in her life who would drop everything with no hesitation, just to be there.

It made me think of my mom.

"This is insane." I mumbled, plopping my sweater on top of the other clothes in my suitcase.

"What's insane?" Sarah asked.

"That I'm flying to Texas with my roommate, to visit her family who I know nothing about. I mean—I don't even know what to do out there."

"First off, my family is small. Mostly just me and my dad, unless uncle Tommy and Maria come visit with my cousin Benji." She said, shoving a pair of socks in her bag. "But it'll be fun! We can go to the Christmas tree farm. They have hot cocoa, ice skating, Santa's reindeer train, and a Ferris wheel. Plus, my dad never decorates until I get there. So we'll get a tree and decorate together!"

"That actually sounds amazing." I said, smiling to myself. It sounded like a real Christmas. Something I hadn't had in a long time. Not even when I spent my holidays with Dylan and his family. They didn't like to over due it with gifts or decorations. They enjoyed traveling to places that weren't cold and had lots of alcohol.

"It's so magical. But if it's not, at least you'll get to hang out with me, and I'm pretty great."

We both tilted our heads back and laughed in unison. Until a firm knock echoed from the door.

Sarah glanced at her phone before tossing it on to her bed, making her way over. "That's probably my dad. He is gonna help us take our bags to the car."

I nodded, leaning over to zip up my suitcase, mentally preparing for the flight.

Until a voice spoke. Deep, familiar, rough in that way that made chills cover me completely.

My heart dropped.

Joel. Newspaper Joel. Coffee guy.

Broad shoulders under a worn beige button up. The same eyes that had held mine in the cafe. The same man that called me darlin' and made my skin buzz with just a look.

He wasn't just a figment of my imagination. He was here. Standing in the door. Real, tangible, and Sarah's dad.

Our eyes met, and suddenly my breath caught in my throat.

Joel's body stiffened just slightly enough to barely notice. Long enough for recognition to flicker behind his guarded expression. Then it was gone.

"Dad, this is Y/N." Sarah smiled, oblivious. "My roommate I told you about."

Joel nodded, still holding my gaze. "Y/N." The way he spoke my name had felt empty compared to this morning. "Nice to meet you."

Nice to meet me? Did he forget this morning? The most embarrassing moment of my life?

"Y/N, this is Joel. My dad."

I swallowed hard, and forced a breathless smile. "Oh—nice to meet you too."

Sarah turned toward her side of the room. "I just need to grab my charger, then we can leave."

As soon as she walked over to her bed, Joel and I found our gaze locked on one another once again. Not a single word. Just a look. Steady, sharp, like he was studying my face for some reason I couldn't figure out why.

There were a million questions roaming through my mind. Did he really not remember me? Was I that insignificant for him to forget about me?

When all I have been doing was think about him...

I twisted at the hem of my long sleeve, tugging it down. I hate how nervous he made me feel. His silence made my stomach churn. We'd only met this morning. An offbeat encounter.

Yet, the way he looked at me now—like I was nothing but a stranger—left an ache in my chest.

Sarah threw her bag over her shoulder, completely unaware of the tension in the room. "Okay, I'm ready." She said just before pointing to another bag closer to the door. "Can you take that one to the car? It's too heavy for me."

Joel cleared his throat, shifting his weight as he leaned down to pick up the duffle bag. Which he did with little to no effort.

"Why don't you come down to the uber with me so we can get a move on." He asked his daughter.

"Yeah, okay." She turned back to me. "We'll be outside. Don't forget to lock up."

I could only nod in response. My mouth felt too dry to let out a single word.

As they stepped out, I caught a glance from Joel. It was fleeting, but it happened.

I exhaled a long sigh, trying to make sense of it all. Debating whether or not I should cancel last minute.

I could come up with some fabricated story. Maybe, my long lost relative called and wants to meet me? Or, maybe I could lie and tell them I landed an internship at a private practice?

No. There's no way Sarah would believe any of it. Besides, I already booked my flight. Money is too tight for me to waste it over something this ridiculous. What if he truly did forget and I'm making this out to be more than what it was?

"You can do this. It's just a month and a half." I mumbled to myself.

With that, I grabbed my suitcase and made my way down the stairs, the wheels bumping softly against each step. The cool air hit my face when I pushed open the front door of our building, and I spotted them just a few feet away from the curb.

Sarah stood with her arms crossed, while Joel lugged her bag into the trunk of the uber. And without realizing it, I slowed my steps.

"I just don't think it's the best idea." He said, voice low but not a whisper. "It's last minute. Long flight. I mean, how well do you even know this girl? She looks...."

He paused for a moment, catching a breath as he stood up and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "She looks complicated."

Complicated? The word hung in the air like smoke. Heat blooming in my chest, rising fast.

Sarah didn't miss a beat. "You're over thinking it. And you literally just met her. How does she look complicated? Y'know what? Never mind that. She's my best friend, and she's coming."

I stepped forward, my jaw clenched as I dragged my suitcase with a little more force than necessary. The sound of the plastic wheels against the concrete caught their attention.

My eyes fell on his, my gaze burning into him as I stepped forward.

"Alright, we should get going now so we don't miss our flight." Sarah said, sliding into the back seat of the car.

Joel cleared his throat like he swallowed something sharp. He reached down for my suitcase, his fingers brushed over mine for just a second too long. It felt as if something seeped through between us. Something thick with tension, and that same quiet pull that I couldn't name before.

I pulled my hand away, and stepped back an inch.

And I could see the way his jaw tightened, as he glanced down and pulled my suitcase to him.

"I got it." He mumbled. Just as he hoisted the bag into the trunk.

I slipped into the car next to Sarah, and shut the door. My heart hammering, pulsing in my ears.

I was going to Texas with my best friend. And my best friends dad. The man who called me darlin' and now thinks I'm too complicated.

What a great way to start winter break.

——————————

The hum of the plane surrounded us, soft like white noise. Sarah had claimed the window seat the second we stepped on board, leaving me to slide into the middle. Joel took the aisle seat without a word, his towering frame a solid wall of quiet tension beside me.

He hadn't looked in my direction since we left our dorm. Not when we checked in, not at the gate. Not even when he shared a bag of sour gummy worms with me and Sarah, while waiting to board.

But now, now he was only inches away. And I could feel every bit of it.

For the first hour of our flight, I shared earbuds with Sarah while we watched 'Never Been Kissed' on the little screen. I tried to focus on the movie, but my mind kept wandering to the man beside me. He was quiet, stoic but there was a weight to his presence.

His arms were crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his button up were pushed up enough to reveal his thick forearms, tan and dusted lightly with dark hair. The veins along his arms stood out, prominent and defined, trailing down toward his strong, capable hands. With a few scars near his knuckles.

And he smelled amazing. Not like cologne, nothing fancy or synthetic.

Coffee, leather, the faintest traces of something like cedar. It was warm and grounded, the kind of scent you want to lean into without thinking.

I tried not to breathe him in, but it was hard not to.

Every so often, his knee would shift and brush against mine. The contact—brief—sent chills up and down my spine. I held my breath each time, unsure if it were intentional or not. If he even felt it at all.

After a while, Sarah had drifted to sleep. Her head leaned against the window, mouth slightly parted as her breath evened in slow little breaths.

The silence felt like torture. Almost unbearable. I glanced at Joel, who had barely moved. His jaw tight, eyes fixed on the dark screen in front of him. I couldn't take it anymore. I licked my lips, and swallowed the nerves rising in my throat.

"So..." my voice came out softer than I intended, though I tried not to wake Sarah up. "anything interesting in the news lately?"

His eyes flicked toward me, but didn't linger.

"What were you reading? Classifieds? Comics? Obituaries?" I leaned in a little closer than before.

Still no answer.

I would usually take the silence as a hint and give up. Turn my attention to my phone and pretend he wasn't there. But I didn't want this winter break to be so...whatever this was.

"Are you stalking me?" I asked, a playful smirk playing on my lips.

That got him.

He looked at me, slow as his eyes furrowed into confusion. The corners of his mouth twitched just slightly. "If anything, you're the one stalking me."

"I go there all the time, you on the other hand..."

"Ya sat at my table."

"Well, you didn't say no."

He glared at me for a moment and huffed. "Ya didn't give me a chance to answer."

"You could've told me to leave at any time."

"Didn't seem worth the energy." He shrugged.

I squinted my eyes at him and mirrored his pose. "Wow, you're charming."

Joel's gaze dropped to my lips then flicked back up. "You talk too much."

Heat began to radiate through my body, though I tried to ignore the feeling. "Is that suppose to be an insult?"

"Observation." He said, matter of fact.

In that moment, Joel turned his attention back to the black screen in front of him.

But I wasn't ready to end this conversation. Little as it was, I wanted more.

"Why'd you lie earlier?"

Joel didn't answer right away. His jaw tensed, the muscle twitching once before he slowly exhaled through his nose. There was a slight shift in his eyes. Guilt? Regret? I wasn't sure what it was.

"I didn't lie." He said quietly, almost like he wished I hadn't asked. "I just didn't...explain"

"You acted like we didn't meet this morning."

He leaned back into his seat, turning toward the window, looking at Sarah then back to me.

"She doesn't need to know everything." He muttered. "It's not exactly something worth mentioning."

Something twisted in my chest as his words played in my head. "Y-you mean, me? I'm not worth mentioning?"

"N-no. I mean that moment. This morning. No point dragging it into this trip. She'll never let it go and will ask a billion questions and I ain't in the mood to deal with it."

I let out a small breathy laugh, not out of amusement but clarity. Heat crawled up my throat as I nodded, masking the sting behind a tight smile.

"Right." I said, flatly. "Wouldn't want to make things complicated."

I didn't mean for the words to come out so cold, but it did.

'She looks...complicated.'

Something in his expression had changed, the stoic, unreadable mask he usually wore racked in this moment. Regret flashed across his face. He looked remorseful.

Good.

His lips parted, like he was about to say something, and I was not ready to hear what he had to say.

I stood up too quickly, hoping to escape the sudden pressure in my chest. But just as I rose to my feet, the plane hit a pocket of turbulence. The jolt wasn't violent, but it was enough to throw me off balance.

I reached out instinctively, and my hands landed square on his chest—warm and firm beneath my palms. Half in his lap, face just inches away from his. Joel's hand pressed against my waist, steadying me. Not in a reactive way, but with purpose. Like he meant it.

I was close, too close. Enough to see the darker flecks in his eyes, the faint scar along his right temple, the way his vein pulsed in his neck.

Neither of us moved. For a single heartbeat, it was just us. My heartbeat thudded in my ears, loud enough to drown out everything else.

I snapped myself out of it. "Shit, sorry." I muttered, breathless as I pushed off of him. My cheeks and ears burning in embarrassment.

I turned away and hurried down the aisle to the bathroom, my hands still tingling from where they'd touched. But as I walked away, I could feel his eyes on my back. And worse, I wanted him to keep looking.

The bathroom was barely big enough for me to turn around in, but I shut the door like it could somehow block out what had just happened, and I let out the breath I held in for what felt like forever.

I leaned forward, leaning over the tiny sink, heart still thudding in my chest. I closed my eyes, and there he was again.

The way he felt in my hands, solid and warm beneath soft cotton. The heat of his hand pressed against my waist, not delicate or clumsy, but as if it belonged there.

And god, his scent. It clung to me now without warning. And his eyes?

I exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the heat that bloomed low in my stomach. Those eyes, wrecked me.

It would've taken nothing—nothing—to lean in closer. To close the inches between us. My lips had been right there, hovering above his. I could still feel his breath on my cheek. Could still imagine what it would've felt like to taste him.

And god, I wanted to.

"I can't." I whispered to myself. "I can't."

I opened my eyes, blocking hard at my reflection in the mirror.

"He is Sarah's dad." I said.

My best friend's father.

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. Trying to block it all out.

This can't happen. Whatever that was, whatever sparked in my chest and the space between us. It didn't matter.

I have to bury this feeling. Pretend it never happened.

Even if my skin still remembered his touch. Even if my heart wanted him.

—————

Part four

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller imagine #tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou2 #pedro pascal imagine

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sapphirewritesx · 2 months ago

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Kinslayer - Aemond Targaryen x Naerys Velaryon (oc)

summary: Naerys returns to King’s Landing after ten, long years. Arriving to support her younger brother’s claim to the Driftwood Throne, she knows she will stay to fulfill her betrothal to her uncle, Prince Aemond Targaryen.

word count: 4.5k

tags/warnings: strong!oc, older sister!oc, arranged marriage, oc rides Seasmoke but is terrified of fire, flashbacks to Aemond's eye loss, he won't be nice, oc and Aemond have a swordfight, enemies to lovers, slowburn (plot before we get to the smut, and trust me, we'll get there)

(narrated in first person, eventually dual pov)

ao3: Kinslayer by sapphirewritesx

Naerys

Mist cloaks the view ahead in a soft veil. The clouds part for us, their shape breaking as we dance between them. I grip the ropes tighter, my legs adjusting around the saddle. It has not been long since the cries of Arrax and Vermax faded into the wind. They cannot be that far behind.

I need to go faster.

We flew past Duskendale’s Harbor and the Dun Fort right before I parted from Jace and Luke. If my timing is precise, we ought to be above the apple orchards of Rosby, meaning King’s Landing lies a short distance to the north. I have to make it to the Dragonpit before either of them does.

Determining their location is nearly impossible with no other lead than my own perception of time, but it wouldn’t be the first instance I manage to pull off the trick.

They already know how it’s done.

The aim is to gradually ascend as high as reachable while maintaining the right path set forward, unknown to other riders. The weight and size of the dragons are crucial factors at play, that coupled with the relative youth of both, are not in their favor. The fact that neither matches mine is already a shortcoming. Now, the time between reaching the desired height and the free fall to the target destination is nothing but a gamble—one that I always win. It is no fair game to them, most definitely. But then again, nothing truly is.

I could be a good sister and let them taste victory, if only once. And I might.

But not today.

For ten long years, I have avoided returning to the capital of the Realm, despite being born and raised underneath the shadows of its towering spires.

Ever the lonely girl, I drifted through the castle halls with a book in hand, seeking a hidden spot to devour its pages. Inked words on paper became my dearest friend, a hollow replacement for the bond I desperately longed for. My dragon egg never hatched. Void of life, its iridescent scales remained cold on the hearth by the cradle. Instead of spending my time with winged creatures, I soared through history with the ancestors that rode them. From the Doom of Valyria to The Conquest and every reign until Viserys, I had memorized every passage ever written. Nothing seemed to satisfy my need for knowledge, though in truth, all I craved was experience.

The Red Keep’s training yard is where my heart belonged. Between dull blades and rounded arrows, I stood with a wooden stick, fighting off the giant that threatened to push me down with bare hands. The mock sword has now become sharp steel, and the giant was none but my father. The man who taught me to aim for the guts, or preferably, the groin.

His memory still lingers, a cut that never mends.

Every other night, in my sleep, The Stranger takes him away from me. And soon, his ghost will chase me through the walls of the place where I last saw him alive.

It was at Aunt Laena’s funeral that I learned he had left for Harrenhal. A day of loss, in more ways than one, that showed me for what I truly was. Just another card in our deck, pulled to patch the damage I had not caused.

At only four years old, my brother Luke took Aemond’s eye, leaving him half-blinded and scarred. As the second son of King Viserys and his second wife, Queen Alicent Hightower, such a maiming could never go unpunished. An eye for an eye, she demanded. No hesitance, even as his son’s actions were laid bare.

Laena’s remains had only been buried under the waves of the narrow sea when Aemond risked his life in a desperate attempt to claim her dragon, and astoundingly, succeeded. Vhagar chose him, before her late rider’s youngest daughter could be given a chance. Rhaena and her older sister Baela, refused to accept the outcome. They slipped out of bed and into the corridors of Driftmark to confront him—and we followed.

As Aemond entered the castle, he was met with the fury of the twins, consumed by their grief. To them, it was nothing but the theft of their mother’s old mount, if such a thing can truly be said. A dragon cannot be stolen, it chooses its rider. Inheritance in this matter does not rely on blood. Yet they cornered him, four against one, as if that could break the bond that had just been sealed.

Being the eldest of my siblings, I should have known better than to let it come to blows. His greed was not without reason—not to me. I envied his courage, for had I been brave enough, I might have been the one with a dragon that night.

All concern vanished the moment I heard the word escape his lips.

Bastards.

A truth so evident, only a fool would deny it.

Jace shoved him to the ground. He punched and kicked as Rhaena, Baela and Luke joined in. They could have killed him, while I stood there, frozen in place. Still, Aemond rose to his feet, not a single flinch as he grabbed Luke by the neck, a rock clenched tightly in hand. Ready to strike, his voice broke in anger.

You will die screaming in flames just as your father did.

It was only then that my instinct flared. I lunged forward, and we both rolled over one another until I was pinned beneath him, the rock lost and forgotten in the chaos. Fire crackled from a nearby torch, its sparks threatening to lick at my skin.

He smiled, baring his teeth at me before the weight of his words crushed my lungs.

You don’t know, do you? Harwin Strong is dead.

Jace wrenched him off me, but it wouldn’t end there. Not after what he had said. The twins had certainly begun the ambush, but the fight soon became ours.

Aemond staggered, ready to strike back, when Luke surged forward with the small dagger he’d hidden in his belt. The pale steel of the blade glinted in the dim light as it carved an awry cut up his cheek.

The blow landed swift but true. My once unmarred innocence was slit, as was the right eye from his face.

At eight years old, I could only believe what I was told, even if doubt existed. I was a Velaryon, and my father was Laenor, son and heir to Rhaenys Targaryen and The Lord of the Tides. Nothing to be questioned. That was what Mother always said.

As if the truth was not always there to greet me through the mirror. He was my father. Our father. And he never heard us call him that. Because Aemond had been right—he was dead.

The guards arrived only when his screams became deafening, echoed by Vhagar’s excruciating roars. They dragged us all to the throne hall of Driftmark, where we would answer for our outrage.

None of it could be undone, albeit avenged.

The queen would not rest until justice was bestowed upon the inflicter of her son’s pain, even as the king demanded Rhaenyra be awaited. Aemond sat in the center of the room, knuckles white from gripping the arm of the chair as he tried to remain in place. His eyeball lay in a nacreous shell, cold and bloodied. The maesters removed it from the socket after they deemed it completely lost and began sewing it shut forever.

My own eye twitched in response each time the needle went in through his skin. Remorse clawed at me, but I knew he wouldn’t return such sentiment if the tables were turned.

When Mother finally appeared, the man that gave us his name was not who stood behind her. It was Daemon. Laenor, per usual, was nowhere to be seen after dusk.

As she abruptly lowered to her knees to inspect Luke for wounds, Jace pulled from her skirts. He called us bastards, he told her bluntly, in our defense. Fire danced in her violet eyes when she raised to her feet again. To accuse the heir to the throne’s offspring of being illegitimate is treason—and so she stated.

Viserys paled before his daughter’s words. His younger son would be put under sharp questioning for such accusations, the insult suddenly becoming the source of his worry, not that of his maimed child.

His wife would not have it. There was still a price to be paid, and she would see to it herself, if need be. But the King concluded that there would be no such thing as revenge. Aemond had questioned our legitimacy and birthright. The loss of his eye served him well.

Everyone that stood there that night at Driftmark’s throne room bore witness to Viserys' promise. If anyone dared to suggest his daughter’s children were the result of adultery, there would be no gods they could pray to for mercy.

Still and all, the matter was far from settled.

My mother’s claim to the Iron Throne hung by a thread. After centuries of solely male heirs, the Realm was rightfully reluctant to accept the reign of a woman whose charade of a marriage mocked tradition and law. Without a strong match, a lady has no power. Laenor proved to be anything but, and marrying another man while the current husband was alive, could never be an option. He needed to die—or to be thought dead. The strategy orchestrated with the help of her now uncle-husband was hardly liable. My father in name would be slain by one of his male lovers, leaving my mother a widow and free to remarry, but Princess Rhaenys with no children in less than a moon.

Sacrifices need to be made, she assured me. For the sake of us both. It was not only her claim that was at stake, by consequence, so was mine.

I already knew my fate. Before our relocation to Dragonstone, my hand was offered in marriage to Prince Aegon, the king’s firstborn son and my eldest uncle. Mother presented it as a symbol of genuine reconciliation, a gesture to heal the rift between our families. An arranged marriage that would quell the growing unrest over the succession, for Aegon would sit the throne, the way some thought he deserved.

The proposal was swiftly declined. Plans were already in motion to wed Helaena to Aegon before year’s end—a suggestion from the Hand, their own grandfather, as she had already flowered and they were both considered to be of age.

Neither the king nor his wife would reconsider their decision, and the urgency to settle matters without further discord left no room for careful deliberation, leading to irrevocable mistakes.

My mother cared little which of Alicent’s sons I married, I realized then. After bearing the king three sons, it was only expected that she would want one of them on the Iron Throne. All that mattered was securing the chance for one of them to rule the Seven Kingdoms. And so, Princess Rhaenyra bargained to protect her—our—claim to rule, but it is I who will pay the price.

No amount of years could spare me the weight of such a curse.

We come to the capital to defend Luke’s right to Driftmark—to secure his place as the next Lord of the Tides, should our grandfather, Lord Corlys, succumb to the fever he caught on his recent sailings. Once that is resolved, title gained or lost, they will return to Dragonstone.

I am to remain. At last, forced to face what I have dreaded for more than half of my life.

Marriage.

The letter with the three-headed dragon seal and the king’s own handwriting arrived a fortnight ago, summoning me to court. No more delaying.

I have spent enough years prolonging the inevitable.

That ends now.

“Embrōt!” I command Seasmoke to descend. His silver wings spread wide with effortless grace as he dips his head down. We plummet downwards. My stomach clenches, my lungs struggling for air as we plunge lower. I fight to keep my grip steady, fingers digging into the handles, until his body levels and the flight steadies once more.

Even without a dragon of my own, and knowing my egg would never hatch, I held onto the hope that one day I would fly over King’s Landing. I just never imagined it would take so long, or so much.

Leaning towards the left, my leathers scraping against the saddle, I try to commit the image to memory. The sky is a deep shade cerulean, the sun gleams high above the red-tiled rooftops, gold glinting atop every tower, and the soft breeze rolling in from the sea. For a brief moment, I am nothing but words and ink on a page, part of a story written with no quills, that easily slips from the tips of my fingers.

A deep growl rumbles beneath me, urging me to return to my senses.

The bond between dragon and rider has never been wholly explained or learned, even if it is thoroughly established that each is unique and irreplaceable. There are passages that would go as far as saying the strongest of them can transcend the very flesh and mind. I myself cannot comprehend the true depths of ours, nor how it is possible that it came to be at all.

I do know, however, that his warning comes with reason. Not so far above me, the shapes of two smaller dragons take form, already making their way down to land.

Seven Hells.

I shift higher in my seat, just enough to catch sight of the weathered stone of the castle walls. We are flying toward the Red Keep, the Dragonpit already behind us.

“Pālegon, Embrōrbar!” I shout for him to turn around, and though he obeys with no hesitation, it is with complaint. His deafening roar, followed by that familiar wave of heat erupting through his body tells me enough. He wants to unleash, let his irritation soothe with the flames. No, no fire.

His burning scales find the cooling gush of wind, the pace of our flight increased by tenfold.

Seasmoke has grown larger over the years, and though he might not be built for war, his agility remains unmatched. It’s no challenge for him to reach the Dragonpit with a couple bats of his wings, even as Vermax circles Rhaenys’s Hill, ready to land.

Pity. He was actually close to beating me this time.

Sharp claws sink into the earth, the ground quivering beneath us, barely a short difference to Vermax’s landing.

Quick now, Naerys.

I deftly untangle the ropes from my legs, already poised to slide down the left wing. The moment the soles of my boots meet the dry grass of the hill, a soft thud announces Arrax has arrived. Not that it matters, anyway. I am the one who touched ground first.

“That was definitely a tie,” a voice calls out behind me. I turn to find Jacaerys smirking, clearly proud of nearly besting me at my own game. I’m tempted to point out that if were not for my distraction, I would have been right in this same spot, boringly waiting for them both. I bite my tongue, not wanting to give my thoughts and worries away.

“Well done, Jace.” I approach, patting his shoulder. “When Vermax is fully grown I won’t be a challenge for you anymore.”

“You think he could someday reach Seasmoke’s size?” he asks, raising a dark brow.

I glance up at his dragon, then back at mine as we wait for Luke to dismount. “Seasmoke may still grow,” I reply, “but knowing Vermax hatched from Syrax’s clutch, the odds are good. He might even grow larger.”

He studies my dragon—father’s dragon— his gaze lingering on his imposing form, soft brown eyes filled with silent hope.

“Same with Arrax. Don’t get too smug about it, dear brother,” I tease, smirking at the annoyed scrunch of his nose.

“Ah, so encouraging,” he says, raking a hand through his messy dark curls.

“We aim to please,” I return with a slight bow of my head.

“We should meet Mother at the gates,” Lucerys mutters, nearing us.

I exhale sharply, letting out a shaky huff. “Let me say goodbye at least, will you? I hate leaving him here.”

“As if I could command you,” he answers, a flicker of confusion crossing his face.

“I fear one day she will truly command us,” Jace chimes in with a heavy sigh.

“That is uncertain,” I counter, a wry smile tugging at my lips. “I might die before I even get to be queen—leaving that burden for you to bear.”

There is no need to look to know he rolled his eyes at that.

I turn back to Seasmoke, my hands grazing his rough scales as I press my forehead against his side. The heat radiating from him wraps around me in a safe embrace, his wings tucking me in closer. “Not long until we fly again,” I murmur.

Heavy-hearted, I step away from him. Beside my brothers, I watch as our dragons disappear into the darkness of the Dragonpit’s caves.

No one welcomed us into the Red Keep. In part, I am relieved to avoid the usual formalities and the reception from the queen and her children—especially that of one of her sons. Although, it does seem rather impudent not to have anticipated the arrival of the Princess of the Realm and that of her family. Clearly, things have changed around here over the years, with my grandfather’s condition worsening by the day.

Both my brothers ventured inside the castle walls, eager to explore the place like they had never been here at all. I, on the other hand, had to endure a tedious talk about manners and purist expectations. Was told to keep an eye on the other two, of course, save them from trouble before they are in it, were that be possible.

I descend the wooden stairs that lead to the training yard. The thrum of weapons clashing lures me in, like a soft whisper that demands I indulge my curiosity at the sight before me. A large crowd gathers in a tight circle, their shouts and cheers echoing in the open air.

I bet that’s where Jace and Luke are.

Weaving through the agitated public, I search for them. Some of the onlookers part for me, eyes looming in a mixture of wonder and disapproval. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they recognized me. No, their stares are fixed on the sword at my hip and the dagger attached to my thigh. A lady with weapons. Such atrocity.

“Is that all you got, Cole?”

I pause, startled. That voice— oddly familiar yet somehow foreign. I push my way toward the front, determined to discover the reason for everyone's enthrallment. My heart leaps into my throat, pounding as if it might burst out of me entirely.

Swift, precise movements from a lithe man command the yard with effortless mastery. Each strike is deliberate, expertly executed, testament to years of training. The morning sun blushes his pale skin, shining down upon his sharp features as if carved from marble. Long silver hair flows like molten strands of moonlight, a stark contrast to the dark leather eye-patch that covers his right eye, enhancing the bridge of his straight nose.

The boy of my nightmares stands right in front of me, a child no more, but a menacing grown man.

He moves with unnerving ease, sidestepping each of Ser Criston’s blows with his morningstar as if they were mere trifles. Every motion brims with undeniable skill—and searing arrogance.

I stay rooted in place, my feet refusing to let me retreat, even when my instincts urge me to run back to the safety of the castle walls.

Before I can fathom his next move, the sharp tip of his blade is already poised at Ser Criston’s throat, finishing their duel. The crowd erupts into applause, and judging by their fervor, this is far from the first time the one-eyed prince has claimed victory.

“Well done, my prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.” To my surprise, Ser Criston humbly accepts his defeat, his words laced with content. A proud teacher, I see.

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” his cold tone cuts through the praise like a honed dagger. The blade remains in position, purposefully pointed in the opposite direction as a dangerous smile curves his lips. “Nephews, have you come to train?”

Fuck.

There they are, just a few steps away, nervously exchanging glances, searching for an escape. Idiots. Luke averts his eyes from the prince to avoid confrontation, but his gaze meets mine. He elbows Jace, whose hand has instantly gone to his own sword, making my presence known not only for him, but for all. Realization dawns on him then. Too late.

“Princess Naerys,” he calls my name with a low rasp, his voice strained from the fight. My skin crawls. “At last we meet again.”

His lavender stare drifts over my riding leathers, tracing my form in scrutiny, before settling back on my face.

“Prince Aemond,” I nod curtly, forcing a tight grin. “It has been far too long.”

Dozens of eyes intently survey our interaction, truly aware now of who I am. He takes a rapid step forward, closing the distance between us. I hold my ground, refusing to let his imposing height diminish me.

Steadily, the prince leans down, and for a fleeting moment, I think he’s reaching for my hand. His fingers close around the hilt of my sword, and in one fluid motion, he draws it from its sheath.

I hold my breath.

“What do we have here?” he muses, twisting the sword lightly in his hand, testing its weight and balance. His eye narrows with disdain. “Such a heavy sword.”

I was wrong. Arrogant falls short to describe his attitude.

My lips part, ready to demand he return what’s mine.

With a swift motion, he throws the sword back at me, hilt-first. I barely manage to catch it, the blade almost slicing through my fingers. The crowd gasps.

Jace surges forward, ready to intervene, but Aemond moves first. A devilish gleam crosses his face, as he raises his sword and charges directly at me.

I dodge the first strike, instinct driving my body away from the blade, and brace myself for his next assault. His laugh echoes through the yard, low and bursting with satisfaction, a predator delighting in the chase.

“Come now, dear.” He takes a step back, adjusting his stance. “Grant me this duel.”

I cast my brother a warning look, a silent order for him to stay out of this. I am not just some girl who plays at being swordsman. The weapons I carry, I know how to use.

My blade clashes against his with a loud clang. If he wants a fight, I am more than willing to oblige.

He pulls away, spinning his sword behind his back—a flaunting performance of skill. I duck his next strike as well, and a flicker of disappointment tugs at his lips.

“Oh, please. Do not hold back,” he taunts. Our blades collide, the sharp edge hovering mere inches from my face. His tone drops to a whisper, “Show me what you can handle, darling niece.”

My heart pounds faster, the rhythm echoing in my ears like a war drum. He is toying with me. Surely, he would revel in demonstrating this crowd just how easily he could best me. However, I suspect that what he desires most is not proof of his strength over me. No, he wants my shame. To let all those present know I am not his equal, nor I could ever be. Remind them I shall hold no true power.

The pressure between our clashed swords is intense enough that neither of us dares withdraw and risk losing balance. Falling would mean giving him the upper hand, and I am not willing to take that chance. Forced into a stalemate, we pull away in the same instant—then dive right back to our fray.

A frustrated groan escapes him as he tightens his hold on the hilt, knuckles white. The clattering of steel turns frantic, each blow harder and faster than the last. Our labored breaths become an aggressive tune, accompanied by grunts of exertion.

A burning ache spreads down my arms, hindering my responses. Cold sweat slicks my fingers, the grip on my handle faltering despite my efforts to keep it restrained.

His frame, though far from hefty, speaks of unyielding endurance. The muscle etched onto his body does not strain him as it does other men, to my dismay. I catch the fierce glow in his eye, and an unsettling question surfaces—what lies beneath the eye-patch?

The sword slips from my hands, meeting the ground with a resonant noise as the crowd holds a breath.

Aemond lunges, ready to point the tip of his sword to my heart. I fall back, bending down in what might seem a desperate attempt to retrieve my weapon. Instead my hand darts to the silver dagger attached to my thigh. When I rise up to face him, the edge of his blade finds my chest, but my dagger presses flat against the delicate skin of his throat.

The fleeting surprise in his expression vanishes, replaced by solid resolve. He lowers his sword, then his free hand snakes around my waist, pulling me in until our bodies are flush against one another.

“Look at you, betrothed. Such a strong lady, are you not?”

Strong.

The word drips from his tongue like poison. My fingers tighten around my dagger, the urge to drive it right through his flesh overwhelming. I could do it—twist the blade and slit his throat. I would be killed afterwards, of course, but the dead cannot marry, and right now that sounds like the better choice.

His grip on my waist doesn’t waver, anchoring me in place as his gaze roves over my features before settling on the darkness of my hair. He lets his sword clatter to the ground, his now free hand raising to find the few strands of silver among my brown locks, gathering them between his fingers with a gentle tug. My eyes remain on his, searching for any hint of his thoughts. All I see is black taking over the violet.

The crimson gates of the Red Keep swing open, revealing a grand carriage adorned with the Velaryon sigil, its golden engraving glinting in the sunlight. Vaemond, my grandfather’s nephew, has arrived to press his claim to the Driftwood Throne.

As everyone’s focus shifts to the commotion caused by the new arrival, Aemond leans in, his breath hot against my neck. “Jiōrnon arlī, ilībōños,” he whispers before abruptly releasing me.

Welcome home, bastard.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond x niece #aemond #ewan mitchell #hotd fanfic #hotd oc #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x strong oc #aemond targaryen smut #sapphirewritesx

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pjohoo-reclists · 2 years ago

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Dark Percy Jackson Fic Recs

Request: Looking for some completed dark Percy fics.

Here's a few. I would also recommend checking out my Percy in Tartarus and Powerful Percy Jackson rec lists as well. Enjoy!

Dominus Veneni by Death_o7

T | 1.1k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase

Dark Percy Jackson, Akhlys, Tartarus

HoO glossed over Percy's outburst in Tartarus too fast so I'm making an one shot from it.

Mind Control by DancingInTheSliverGlow

T | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Dark Percy Jackson, Percy has god like powers, Scared Annabeth Chase

Tartarus had its own rules. Fire was drinkable. The ground was the body of a dark god. The air was acid, and demigods could be turned into smokey corpses. Compared to that, the idea of controlling poisons was… easy. Percy glared at the poisonous lake around him. He focused, and reached with the part of his mind that allowed him to control water. The poisonous tide stopped. The fumes blew away from him and back towards the goddess. The lake of poison rolled toward her in tiny waves and rivulets. Akhlys took a hesitant step back. “What is this?!” She looked alarmed, scared even. Percy thought it was a good look on her. “Poison,” Percy snarled at her. “That’s your specialty, right?”

Only When You're Older, You'll See It Too by Butterflies_Stormclouds

T | 1.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Dionysus, Percy Jackson & Apollo, Percy Jackson & Hermes

Loss of Innocence, Deity Percy Jackson, Dark Percy Jackson

It's been mentioned throughout the years that Percy is a "good god." Millennia pass before he finally proves them - his father, cousins and family - are all correct.

are you the saint (that burned the gods of man) by maverickk

T | 2.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & The Seven

Feral Percy Jackson, Dark Percy Jackson, Blood Control

The Argo II gets boarded by pirates. This goes as well as expected, until they piss Percy off.

Five Times Percy Felt More Than Human, and the One Time He Came Home by kitty_pryde_bi_pride

G | 2.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson, Sally Jackson

Dark Percy Jackson, Powerful Percy Jackson, Family Feels

Percy is 17, almost an adult, when he masters control over his father’s domain. He hasn’t hit a ceiling on his power yet and he doesn’t think he ever will, but he feels strong enough that he can barely remember the fear of losing he felt at 12 when he fought the minotaur.

show me your worst (show me you're cursed) by maverickk

T | 2.1k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Calypso, Calypso & Leo Valdez, Percy Jackson & Leo Valdez

Powerful Percy Jackson, Dark Percy Jackson, Camp Half Blood

Percy's war is over, leaving him free to relax and try to adjust to the tentative peace. Leo's war is still going, though, and Percy's never been able to leave his companions to fight their battles on their own. Even if it means visiting someone he wouldn't mind never seeing again. Part 3 of I Hear You're Alive (How Disappointing)

we'll brave this storm by maverickk

T | 2.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Dark Percy Jackson, Moral Dilemmas, Post-Tartarus

Poseidon won't pretend to understand what his youngest son is going through. But that doesn't mean that Percy will be going through it alone. Part 4 of I Hear You're Alive (How Disappointing)

i'll find him by maverickk

T | 2.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Tyson, Minor Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Nico di Angelo & The Seven

Dark Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson's Fatal Flaw, Earthshaker Powers

Tyson has been taken, and Percy's on a warpath. Someone is going to pay.

bury me underneath this bloody grave by keigold

M | 2.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Bob | Iapetus, Past Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Character Study, Dark Percy Jackson, Bob | Iapetus is a Sweetheart

There is no one here to stop him from reaching out with a bruised hand and snagging monster blood, grabbing ahold of their dancing molecules and tearing them apart - no one here to stop his descent into becoming the thing he feared the most. or; What if Percy went through Tartarus alone?

the shark in your water by southslates

M | 2.6k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Gabe Ugliano

Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent, Abusive Relationships, Dark Percy Jackson

Percy understands a lot, not arithmetic or the alphabet but he understands a lot about the way the world works, can’t quite understand Gabe’s place in it.

five times percy leaned on his friends, and the one time he stood alone by kitty_pryde_bi_pride

G | 3.5k | Complete

Percy Jackson, Jason Grace, Grover Underwood, Tyson

Dark Percy, BAMF Percy Jackson, Morally Grey Behaviour

Percy meets his friends on the battlefield and they all know he’s unbeatable, even alone. And he is alone, even with the sea and the earth and the blessing of the Styx and the blood in their veins- he can tell they think he’s gone as mad as Luke.

a rose by any other name by IzzyMRDB

T | 3.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Worldbuilding, Eldritch Horror!Percy, Dark Percy Jackson

It wasn't Poseidon who met Sally on that beach on Montauk, but rather a far older, much more ancient version of him. Percy is born far older and younger than he should be.

Kill the Hero by maverickk

T | 13k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Dark Percy Jackson, Scared Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson Needs a Hug

"A slow death!" Misery had crowed at him. "A death from a thousand poisons!" And it was. It was slow, and painful, and terrible, and Percy wished he could he could say he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemies. But it wasn't his death, it was Akhlys's—and she deserved so much worse. In which Percy Jackson goes A Bit Too Far, Annabeth Chase gets A Bit Too Scared, and the story changes for the worse. Part 1 of I Hear You're Alive (How Disappointing)

You don't believe in one divine (But can you tell me you believe in mine?) by anxious_tofu

M | 21k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Dionysus, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Post-Tartarus, Dark Percy Jackson, Deity Percy Jackson, Psychological Trauma

With a looming threat on the horizon, Percy delves into parts of himself he hasn't touched since Tartarus.

Trust is Nothing by maverickk

T | 33k | Complete

Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Nico di Angelo, Gaea

Hurt Annabeth Chase, Dark Percy Jackson, Blood Control

Percy Jackson had been left, alone, in Tartarus. His trust in his best friend was shattered. His loyalty was owed to no one. His energy went into keeping himself alive, and if he had to delve into darker and more deadly powers, so be it. But now he's out, and he has work to do. In which Percy Jackson, hopefully, manages to win a war, flip off Annabeth Chase, and take a much-needed nap. Not in that order. Part 2 of I Hear You're Alive (How Disappointing)

Enriched By Envy by HK44

M | 63k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo

Dark Percy Jackson, Angst, Secret Crush, Jealously

Waking up at the bottom of the ocean was not on Nico's bucket list. Trying to figure out why Percy was suddenly so clingy and possessive of him wasn't on there either.

Percy In Tartarus by May1974 (bluefeye)

M | 111k | Complete

Past Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Minor/Background Relationships

House of Hades rewrite, Post Tartarus, Dark Percy Jackson

Percy falls into Tartarus alone.

Blood-Red Herring by DAsObiQuiet

T | 142k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Tartarus Survival, BAMF Annabeth Chase, Protective Poseidon

The Olympian gods have a history of making monumentally bad decisions and not learning from their mistakes. Of course that'll come back to bite them, and everyone seems to think Percy will be the one doing the biting. Thing is, he's tired and just wants to live a normal life. Too bad literally no one believes him except his friends, and now he has to survive the consequences of yet another one those monumentally bad decisions. AKA: Tartarus nearly destroyed Percy the first time, in more ways than one. It's worse the second time. So much worse. And this time, he has no way out. He desperately clings to the one thing he knows without a doubt: 'I have to stay alive for when Annabeth comes for me'. Because she will.

Falling For You by 1967HogwartsGoddess

T | 270k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & The Seven, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Percy Jackson Needs a Hug, House of Hades, Dark Percy Jackson

In an alternate series of events, Percy saves Annabeth from falling into Tartarus. Too bad he can't save himself. As Annabeth leads the Seven on a treacherous quest to meet him at the Doors of Death, Percy fights through a wasteland of pain, torture and difficult choices. Surrounded by monsters, alone in the darkest corner of the underworld, he starts to question whether he's a good kid anymore. Final chapter is an AU following on from chapter 66.

910 notes · View notes

chheolie · 10 months ago

Text

ready get set go get it go ♪ (part 1) part 2 here

the members were scattered around the dance studio, lounging on the sofas, warming up with relaxed steps, or exchanging jokes. the rehearsal for lollapalooza berlin was about to begin, but the atmosphere was light, filled with the low sound of music playing in the background and the laughter that echoed as mingyu teased seungkwan about a move he kept messing up.

suddenly, the door burst open, and seokmin entered the studio with an explosive energy that made everyone look up at once. he had his phone in one hand, his breath quickened, and his eyes shining like never before. a huge smile dominated his face, and he could barely contain his excitement, practically bouncing with joy.

seungcheol furrowed his brow, both concerned and curious. "what's going on? did you win the lottery, seokmin?"

seokmin shook his head frantically, his breath still heavy, and clutched the phone to his chest as if it were the greatest treasure in the world. "you won't believe it... you... you know who just sent me a message?"

the other members exchanged confused looks, but curiosity was growing. "who, man?" vernon asked, watching closely as minghao approached, intrigued.

seokmin dropped to his knees on the floor, the sparkle in his eyes almost radiating. "y/n! y/n herself!" he repeated your name with a mix of disbelief and pure joy, as if he needed to confirm that it was really happening.

the members' eyes widened in visible surprise. jeonghan, who was closest, widened his eyes and let out a low whistle. "are you serious? y/n, the singer you talk about all day long? her?"

"yes!" seokmin nearly shouted, laughing in shock as he struggled to contain his excitement. "she reached out because she wants me to perform with her! at lollapalooza! she wants me to sing with her!" he threw himself back on the floor dramatically.

"this is amazing, seokmin!" wonwoo shouted, smiling genuinely. "man, you're going to sing with y/n! this is huge!"

seokmin nodded, still in disbelief, and sat down on the floor. "i can't believe she knows who i am! that she wants me to be there with her! she even mentioned she likes our songs!" he waved his phone as proof, and the smile on his face was the widest anyone had ever seen. "you have no idea how much this means to me... it's y/n, guys!"

the excitement was palpable, and the members didn't miss the chance to tease their friend. "i told you all that fanboying was going to pay off," seungkwan teased, pushing seokmin's shoulder with a broad grin. "it's going to be incredible, hyung! you're going to kill it, and she's going to love singing with you!"

seokmin laughed, his heart still racing, and took a deep breath, trying to process the surreal moment. "i still can't believe it..."

"and if you get nervous up there, just remember that you're dk, seventeen's vocalist, and now also y/n's partner," jeonghan said with an encouraging smile, patting his back. "she couldn't have picked a better person."

seungcheol, with a big smile on his face, asked, "so, what did you say to her? you accepted, right?"

seokmin hesitated, biting his lower lip. he looked around, taking in the friends who had always been with him during the most important moments of his career. "actually... i haven't replied yet." the studio fell momentarily silent, and seokmin laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "i wanted to check with you guys first. like... i don't know, if you think it's okay for me to accept, if it won't mess anything up. you guys always help me with the big decisions, so i didn't want to do this without hearing what you think."

the other members looked at him for a second, and then seungkwan shook his head with an amused smile. "are you serious, seokmin? we're talking about y/n asking you to perform at lollapalooza! of course, it's okay! go and show her why you're the best vocalist around."

minghao patted seokmin's back. "this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. we'll be here supporting you all the way, so don't even think twice. just say yes!"

jeonghan nodded with a gentle smile. "this is going to be amazing for you and for us too, seeing you accomplish something so big. don't worry, we're all proud of you."

seokmin's eyes filled with emotion, and he nodded, deeply grateful. "you guys are the best. really, thanks for this." with an excited sigh and his heart pounding, he unlocked his phone, opening y/n's message. he typed with slightly trembling fingers, trying to contain his excitement as each word was carefully chosen.

seokmin: hi, y/n! this is dokyeom. seokmin: i’m so happy about your invitation! seokmin: first, i need to say that i’m a huge fan of your work, and getting this message from you is surreal for me. seokmin: i’d love to be part of your performance at lollapalooza and share this special moment with you. count on me to make something amazing on stage!

he took a deep breath before hitting the send button, and the members gathered around, curious and excited. when he finally hit send, everyone jumped on him in celebration. laughter and cheers filled the room, everyone thrilled that seokmin was fulfilling a fan’s dream. it didn’t take long for the phone to vibrate, and seokmin’s eyes widened as he started shouting, "she replied, she replied!"

you: hi, seokmin! i’m so glad you agreed! you: i love your talent, and i’m sure that together we’ll create an unforgettable performance! you: let’s schedule our first rehearsal tomorrow afternoon at the studio, at 3 pm, if that works for you. you: i can’t wait to get started! see you then! 😊

seokmin read the message with a smile that seemed to light up the studio. "she scheduled the first rehearsal for tomorrow! at 3 pm! she said it’s going to be unforgettable!"

the members burst into more celebrations, showering seokmin with hugs and words of encouragement. the group’s rehearsal was important, but at that moment, everyone knew that seokmin’s next step would be something extraordinary. he was about to live one of the biggest dreams of his career, and the thought of sharing the stage with you made his heart race like never before.

the day of the first rehearsal arrived faster than seokmin had imagined. anxious and determined to make a good impression, he arrived at the studio early, well before the scheduled time. his hands were slightly sweaty, and his heart was racing, but he felt ready to face that surreal moment. he sat on one of the benches in the hallway outside the recording studio, trying to calm his nerves while repeatedly checking the clock.

the anticipation grew with each passing minute, and he could hardly believe he was there, about to rehearse with you, the artist he admired so much. he took a deep breath, listening to calm music through his headphones, trying to relax, but his thoughts were running wild, imagining how your first interaction would be. so he rehearsed mentally what to say and how to act.

a few minutes later, you appeared in the hallway, carrying two takeaway coffee cups and a warm smile that lit up the space. seokmin quickly stood up, almost tripping over his own feet but managing to compose himself just in time.

“hi, dokyeom!” you greeted him with a friendly smile, extending one of the cups toward him. “i hope you like coffee. i brought one for you.”

he blinked, surprised and touched by the simple but thoughtful gesture. “oh, yes, i love it! thank you!” he carefully took the cup as if it were a precious gift. he was truly moved that you had thought of him on your way. his heart raced even faster, but he managed to maintain his composure, internally grateful that he hadn’t let his emotions show too much.

as you walked together down the hallway toward the studio, you started chatting casually, lightening the mood. “you know, i love seventeen. the energy you all bring to the stage is incredible, and your voice always impresses me. it’s powerful and full of emotion at the same time.”

seokmin felt his face heat up, trying to hide the blush that was surely appearing. “really? thank you! that means a lot, coming from you. i... i’ve always admired your work. your songs have a unique sensitivity, and being able to sing with you is just amazing.”

you smiled, appreciating the sincere compliment. when you reached the studio door, you paused before opening it, turning to him with a gentle look. “this studio is one of my favorite places to rehearse. i like to keep it quiet; i know you’re used to having a lot of people at rehearsals, but i hope you don’t mind it being just the two of us today.”

seokmin almost laughed in relief and surprise. “mind? not at all! actually, this is perfect. i was a bit nervous, but now... it feels like i’m exactly where i’m supposed to be.”

you opened the studio door, revealing a cozy space with soft lighting and a decor that exuded creativity and comfort. the environment was comforting, with instruments neatly arranged and some personal touches that showed how much that place meant to you. and he walked in, observing everything with great care.

“i’m glad you feel that way,” you said as you both entered the studio. “i’m really excited to create something with you."

seokmin smiled, finally allowing himself to relax. the warm atmosphere and your calm presence made him feel that he was about to experience something truly special. and he was ready to give his best, for you, for himself, and for the fans who were about to witness something unforgettable.

after you entered the studio, the first thing you did was take off your jacket, revealing a comfortable t-shirt that perfectly matched the relaxed vibe of the studio. you casually hung it on the chair next to you, showing a familiarity and ease that left seokmin impressed. there was something about the way you moved, confident and natural, that made him feel more at ease too.

you turned to him with a warm smile, crossing your arms in a relaxed manner. "there’s a specific song i’d really love to sing with you at the festival," you began, and seokmin felt his heart leap. "ever since i first heard it, i’ve been completely hooked on it. it’s from the soundtrack of twenty-five, twenty-one..." you laughed shyly as you revealed your current favorite song.

seokmin stood still for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise. he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. "you... you know i’m the one who sings 'go!'?" he asked, still a bit stunned.

you giggled, nodding affirmatively. "of course i know! your voice is unmistakable. from the first time i heard it, i couldn’t stop listening. the energy, the emotion... it’s incredible. and i think it would be perfect for us to sing together."

seokmin felt a wave of pride and happiness wash over him. not only did you, the artist he admired so much, know the song, but you wanted to sing it with him. he could barely contain the smile spreading across his face. "i... of course, i’m in! it would be an honor to sing 'go!' with you. actually, it’s one of my favorite songs to sing."

your eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "great! it’s going to be amazing. i was hoping you’d say that." you approached the soundboard and began preparing the space for rehearsal. "shall we start then? i want to see how our voices blend in this song."

seokmin felt his heart race even faster with your excitement. he had been nervous before, but now it was a different kind of nervousness—one that came from anticipation and the joy of being about to create something really special. he knew this rehearsal would be unforgettable, not just for what it meant to him, but for the connection he already felt beginning to form between you through the music.

as you prepared everything, seokmin approached the microphone, adjusting it to his height. he still couldn’t believe his luck at being there, sharing the studio with you. when you finally positioned yourself next to him, ready to start, he took a deep breath, feeling the energy in the air. he took a deep breath. "let’s do this," he said, with a smile that mixed emotion and determination.

and when the first notes of 'go!' began to play, seokmin knew that this would be one of the most memorable moments of his career.

during the rehearsal, without realizing it, seokmin had a natural talent for making you laugh. every time he spoke, he made you smile in a genuine and carefree way. whether it was a spontaneous joke or a funny gesture, he was always creating a light and fun atmosphere, unaware of the impact he had.

you were enchanted. the connection you felt with seokmin during the rehearsal was something that transcended the music. you were so involved that laughter came easily, and the small interactions between you were creating a natural harmony. seokmin, in turn, was amazed that he was actually making someone as talented and admired as you laugh that way.

when the rehearsal finally ended, you looked at seokmin with a sincere smile, satisfaction written all over your face. “i want you to know that it was a huge pleasure meeting you in person. you have such a light and happy energy; it’s contagious. i really hope our contact doesn’t end after the festival performance. i’d love to build a friendship with you.”

seokmin was visibly moved, his eyes shining with gratitude. “i also really enjoyed meeting you, y/n. it was an amazing experience, and i really hope we can keep in touch. this rehearsal was one of the best experiences of my career.”

you said goodbye with a shy hug, laughing just as shyly, and seokmin left the studio with a sense of fulfillment and joy. the way home felt lighter and brighter, and he couldn’t wait to share what happened with the members.

when he got home, seokmin immediately grabbed his phone and sent a message to the members.

with a smile on his face and his heart still racing from the wonderful day, he typed:

seokmin: guys, you won’t believe how amazing today’s rehearsal was! seokmin: i met y/n, and she’s even more wonderful than i imagined. and even more beautiful!!!! seokmin: we rehearsed "go!" together, and it was an experience i’ll never forget. CAN YOU BELIEVE SHE LOVES THIS SONG? seokmin: she’s super fun, and her energy is simply contagious. we got along so well, and she even said she hopes we keep in touch after the festival. seokmin: i don’t think i’ll be able to sleep tonight.

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cute-sucker · 1 year ago

Text

stupid boy (part 1/2)

[13.04.2024]

note: this is like a childhood series that i kinda wanna do...enemies to lovers obviouslyyyy!! (depends on what y'all want - but i might do a series for it/i will be adding a part 2 thooo) heavy inspired by rina kent book. words: 1,180

⊹˚. ♡

rafe was someone constant in your life.

from when you were little, with scraped knees, lolly pop in hand. you had moved to kildare when you were seven years old, and couldn't fit in at all. you felt like a lost cause, moping around the house. you didn't know who he was, yet you knew there was a bold boy next door, who climbed trees and claimed to have seen peter pan at night.

yet, you didn't know this about him when you were a small seven-year-old, no you met him at your lowest.

when your parents told you they were getting divorced.

"honey, your dad and i.." your mother began, and both of them shared a knowing look, and then your mother leaned closer to you. you felt the turmoil in the air, yet little seven-year-old you didn't know what was going on.

"your mom and i are getting a divorce." your dad finished the sentence.

divorce.

the word sounded foreign to your lips as you tried to whisper it out, the words were too cold as you tried to stretch it out. it didn't sound good.

"what does that mean?" you asked slowly.

at this your mother winched, "we'll be having a break. you won't see your dad a lot. maybe for a while," she finished, giving your dad a cold look. he seemed to cave into himself, and when you tried to meet his eyes he gave you a sad smile.

you heard your voice go shakey, "divorce?"

"honey-listen, you'll have two christmas, two birthdays-" your dad began almost to console you.

instead, you felt your heart race and hot tears pool in your eyes.

the question you begged to ask was 'why,' and then you wanted to scream, yell and tear the house down.

but you did none of that, instead, you sat there, your hands shaking and hot tears streaming down your face. as a seven-year-old this was too much to process, too much to think about.

your pretty dress was drooping, and before you knew it you were sprinting as fast as you could, a horrible croaking coming out of your mouth. the wind whipped in your face, and your chest heaved as you made it to the park.

the park with its whimsical trees, and its cool wind. you picked berries nearby, and let yourself get dizzy on the swings. the slides were high and daring. it was the place of adventure, and to you, it was a place of safety.

suddenly a small hand tugged at your hair. you gasped looking up to a roguish boy who squinted down to look at you. he had deep cobalt eyes, and eyed you with distaste. you knew him...he was rafe cameron, a year older than you and lived nearby.

"why are you crying?"

your lip wobbled, as you felt your tears fall to the ground. he pulled your hair again, and you cried out.

"get off me!" you cried out, wincing as you held your hair to your head. he seemed to go still but peeked at you curiously. you felt annoyed now, and instead of crying you glared at him.

he looked confused now. "look you're not crying anymore."

"yea' cause you're a big idiot." you spat at him, still rubbing the spot on your head. he was a daring boy to do such a thing to you, and if you weren't so messed up you wouldn't hesitate to beat him up.

"why are you crying?" rafe asked you again, and this time you sniffed and turned away from him.

"just cause."

he shrugged now, "i make my sister cry sometimes," he confessed sheepishly, "i shave her barbies hair off, and dad told me i should stop."

you frowned at him, "that's not really nice."

"well, you're not nice either 'cause you're lying to me right now."

that was a fair point, and you found yourself defensively clutching your dress, your hands reaching for something to ground you.

"my parents are getting divorced."

saying out loud made it more real.

"that's it?"

you felt your anger bubble up now, giving another cry. "what do you mean that's it? they were talking about different holidays, and i heard them fight. they scream and yell and- and i'm really scared."

at this, the boy sobered and kicked the weeds under his foot.

"sorry."

you shook your head at his apology, swatting him away. he was an idiot this boy, a mean one at that too. you couldn't believe what he was saying to you. this small idiot of a boy.

"can you leave now?" you told him, ordering him almost. yet he didn't respond to you. finally, you raised your voice, fists balled up. "leave me alone!"

"why?"

he looked confused, dangling his feet below the bench, and staring at you with that intense look. you wondered where his parents were, and then second you wondered if your parents were looking after you.

you struggled for words now, "i don't like you very much, and you're mean, and-and i don't like people seeing me cry."

"i'll tell you a secret."

this piqued your interest, and you tried to pretend like it didn't. but the rafe seemed to notice the way you twitched in interest, and grinned at your curiosity. he inched closer to you, bumping his shoulders next to yours.

"what is it?" you asked him annoyed, yet you couldn't help but look up at him.

"you look ugly when you cry."

your breath caught in your throat, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. the fleeting moment of curiosity evaporated, replaced by a surge of hurt and anger.

"how dare you?" you muttered, your voice trembling with indignation. "that's not a secret, that's just mean!"

the rafe's grin faltered, his cobalt eyes widening in surprise at your sudden outburst. but instead of apologising or backtracking, he seemed to double down on his callousness.

"hey, i'm just being honest," he retorted, his tone defensive. "if you don't like it, tough!"

"why do you hate me? you don't even know me," you cried out.

finally, he stiffed, and then folded his arms, and then whispered something under his breath. you couldn't help but gruffly sigh, as you noticed he wasn't going anywhere.

"what did you just say?"

rafe scowled now, "i was gonna tell you to smile more, 'cause you'll look pretty then, but you interrupted me!"

"-and that will make what you just said to me?"

rafe's scowl deepened, but beneath the defiance in his gaze, you caught a glimpse of something else—a flicker of uncertainty, perhaps even regret.

"i thought you might feel better," he muttered giving you a dirty look. yet behind his eyes, you saw confusion.

"well, it didn't."

with that, you turned on your heel and stormed away, refusing to give him a piece of your frustration.

he was a stupid boy.

#rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #drabble #outerbanks rafe #enimies to lovers #childhood friends #light angst #part 1/2 #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron prompt

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the-heliophile · 5 months ago

Text

SAVE YOUR TEARS - VI

FROM FOURMI 🐜💌 This is my first time ever writing fanfiction and English isn't my first language so please don't go too hard on me! OMG THANK YOU FOR THE 24 NOTES 🫶🏻

song. save your tears, the weeknd

pairing. emo!Vi x reader (post Caitlyn)

content. angst, pining?, longing, Vi fumbled you

word count. around 1K

“I saw you dancing in a crowded room,

You look so happy when I'm not with you”

Vi was in the club, celebrating another victory in the pit by getting shitfaced with Loris, using whatever earnings she had gotten to buy them both drink after drink. The swirling colors of the lights were all blurry by now, her vision impaired by the several glasses of alcohol in her system, the burning in her throat a small distraction from her thoughts of you. She looks around the bar, barely able to make out people's faces when her chalcedony eyes land on a familiar figure dancing with a woman. Vi squints a bit, trying her hardest to make out the expressions of the woman making her heart beat faster and she manages to make out a smile, your smile, your face contorted in an expression of pure mirth while your company flirts with you.

“But then you saw me, caught you by surprise,

A single teardrop falling from your eye”

You were enjoying the attention your date was giving you, not hesitating for a second before flirting back until the gnawing feeling of eyes on you pushed you to look around the crowded club, your gaze landing right on Vi. The sight of her is enough to bring back the painful feeling of your heart clenching to the surface, your throat suddenly closing while your eyes get watery and you quickly look away. You pretend not to have noticed her, wiping a fallen tear from your face as fast as you can, the sight not lost on your ex, if you could call her that.

“I made you think that I would always stay,

I said some things that I should never say”

The truth was, you had been foolish to believe she would ever reciprocate your feelings. It seemed as if everything you did for her did not matter, as if her heart would forever belong to Caitlyn. By the time you had met Vi they had already parted ways, you picked her up after she passed out from celebrating, lying unceremoniously on the stairs leading to her rundown studio. You had offered her a hand, lent her your ear to vent in and your shoulder to cry on and yet she had never looked at you as more than a friend. Until one day, during one of her drunk ramblings she uttered the forbidden words, slurred but unmistakable. “I really love you, you know ? You mean a lot to me..” You had been foolish to believe her, to take this confession as more than drunk words she would forget the next morning.

“Yeah, I broke your heart like someone did to mine,

And now you won't love me for a second time”

You ended up making the mistake that cost you your friendship with Vi, you confessed. A month ago, at her studio after helping her lay down, you brought her a glass of water and cooked her a warm meal to comfort her before asking her to have a heartfelt conversation. You poured your whole heart to her, explained the depth of your feelings and how you would even be willing to wait for her, however long was needed for her to make her choice. You handed her your heart on a silver platter just to be met with a scoff and a scowl, her words piercing right through the organ “Don't try to make it more than it is, we're friends and that's all we'll ever be.” That night you left her apartment without ever looking back, that night you had realized that no matter what you did you could never compare to Caitlyn, she'll always be there in the back of Vi’s mind.

“I don't know why I run away,

I make you cry when I run away”

Seeing you again, looking so beautiful and happy made her clench, a familiar feeling setting in, longing. She had missed you, spent countless nights making up apologies in her head, kept looking for you every time she woke up hungover. She regretted her words more than anything, wishing she could take them back and welcome you into her heart. It did not take her long after your departure for the realization to hit her, that night despite how drunk she had been, she had never felt so sober. She had lost you, she was blind to your affection because she was too busy pursuing memories of someone who looked down on her and kicked her out of her life like she was nothing more than a dirty rag. She misses the high of being with Caitlyn yes, but you provided her with a sense of serenity, gave her a sense of safety and sanity in her otherwise trouble filled life. She did not mean to be that harsh, never wanted to outright reject you like that, with a shaky voice she ordered another drink, downing it in one go before standing up from the stool she had been sitting in to stare at you.

“Girl, take me back 'cause I wanna stay”

Vi stumbles slightly on her way to you, grabbing your arm before pulling you away from your date without even asking and bringing you to a more secluded place. “Sweetheart, I..I missed you so much..” She searches your eyes, looking for any hint of affection, a glimmer of love or even just a sparkle of happiness at seeing her but her search is met with nothing if not for your unimpressed gaze. “Do you ? Or do you just miss everything I did for you ?” Vi stared at you, incredulous for a second before uttering that she missed you, as a person, as a friend and a companion. She felt stuck, like she was facing a wall, her words seemingly doing nothing to affect you but the memory of you wiping your tears away a few minutes earlier is still etched in her mind. She waits for a few moments, watching you take a deep breath before you chide with a frown “Get yourself in check Vi, I was foolish to think we would even work, I could not be with someone who comes home drunk every time and spends her time fighting for a few coins a night just to spend them all on booze. I want something real Vi, and you'll never be able to provide me with that, I've made peace with it and so should you.” She feels her heart breaking at your words, and she holds her tongue, fighting the urge to argue with you as she reluctantly lets go of your arms. With a shaky breath, she nods, admitting to the truthfulness of your words “You're right, I'd just pull you down with me eh ?” She gives you a half-assed smirk, her tone a lot sadder than she had expected before she resigns herself to her fate and walks away from you, thankful for the dark lighting of the club concealing the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“I realize that I'm much too late

And you deserve someone better”

#vi #arcane #wlw #vi x reader #vi angst #angst #light angst #violet arcane #vi arcane #fanfic #arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #vi fanfic #arcane angst #wlw angst #SoundCloud

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riacte · 1 year ago

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"It's rotten work," Ren says. His tail swishes nervously. He has the demeanor of a sad scolded puppy even though no one's scolding him.

False looks up from where she's placing down mud blocks in accordance to the roads that Ren lined out. Ren's theatre kid behaviour must be kicking in now, because to call her work rotten is dramatic and almost insulting.

"It's not rotten to me. There's stuff I would call rotten work, but this is no where near it."

False places down another block. Ren obediently shuffles out of the way.

"Rotten work is when I'm at a tourney and no one's listening to my strategy so I'm left all alone, but then they use my strategy and we actually win while everyone ignores me. Rotten work is when someone sabotages me and I'm the one left to sweep away the pieces. Rotten work is when someone attacks me on purpose and I'm the one who has to apologise for being mad and pacify everyone else. This?" False pulls out another mud block, "is building. And building is not rotten work."

Ren cautiously observes what False is doing, then also pulls out his mud blocks. He moves a few steps forward so he's placing blocks, but out of her way. "It's still work," he admits. "A lot of work, in fact."

False is nonplussed. "But that's what builders do, don't they? And I am the Minister of Transport."

Ren laughs, but it's a quiet laugh. He pauses like he's hesitating, then he mumbles,

"I'm a lot of work."

Now it's False's turn to pause. Her hands continue with placing the blocks, because that's what she does. Building. Grinding. Helping friends out. So on and so forth.

"It's peculiar work for sure," False says, her tone light. "Picking up your stuff when you spontaneously explode. Bugging you about MCC. Teaching you basic colour theory. You can't get orange from blue, Ren. It sadly doesn't work that way."

Ren chuckles at the jab. "Worth a shot, eh?"

False coughs. "Yeah, like I said, peculiar work. But it's fine. I like doing peculiar work because I'm a peculiar person and you're a peculiar person. But together we are normal. Very normal indeed."

Ren considers it. "What if I don't want to be normal?"

"Then we won't be normal."

"What if I want to be normal?"

"Then we'll be normal. Or at least pretend to be."

Ren laughs. "That doesn't make any sense."

False smiles wryly. "Come on now, Ren, when have I ever made any sense?"

He shoots her a grin. "But you're like the most sensible person in the Neighbourhood!"

False lets the silence hang between them for comedic effect. "... No."

"No?"

"If I were sensible, I would've left the Neighourhood long ago."

"Hey!"

"Just kidding. That's why I'm not sensible. That's why I like not being sensible. Besides, I'm not the one who organised the ministry or planned the roads. You did. You're the one with the vision. I'm just following it."

Ren looks around the paths and his tail wags in excitement. "But you're contributing to the vision! I saw the bits and pieces you added! It looks great, by the way!"

False nonchalantly continues placing. "Yeah, you see, that's part of the peculiar work. You draw up the canvas and I edit in the details. It's like how we did the raceway last time."

"Yeah, but I haven't grinded as hard this time around. Too busy with my permit, my dude."

False giggles. "Would you call getting the beacon permit drawing a short straw?"

"I mean, I was the second to die in Demise, but you won and everything worked out in the end, so I don't mind." A pause. "Also gives me a chance to kill those dastardly withers as revenge for all the times they defeated me."

"Right, it's a lot of work to kill them, never mind farm them."

Ren sighs deeply. "There's definitely a lot going on. Especially those buttons, man."

False glances up. They're both still doing the roads. She watches Ren shift up a step and place down a mud brick slab.

"Yeah, but it'll be worth it. I'll buy your beacons. Actually, you can go do your buttons. You can kill some withers. I'll take care of this."

She can almost hear his apologies— sorry that she's doing the roads that he was supposed to do, sorry that he didn't reply to her messages, sorry that he's the way he is.

(And maybe he picks it up too— the way she actually means "I'll take care of you". He always seems to instinctively know what she means under her contradictory and confusing words. In the same way she instinctively knows what he means.)

Ren softly chuckles. "It's peculiar work."

"It's peculiar work especially if it's me, and especially if it's you—"

False sets down a mud brick slab right next to the one Ren placed. Just one slight push, and the pattern of the bricks align like they'd been inseparable from the get go. The corner of her lips quirk up.

"— but that's why I do it."

#ria.fic #hermitfic #falseren #<- platonic #i started writing this waiting for my salmon to steam. lesson of the day: dont steam a thick piece of salmon.#the big salmon voices in your head are EVIL. thin salmon for steaming #also if this reminds you of another fic that's bc i wrote the other fic. self plagiarism is always moral 🔥#what if we were silly. together #hermitcraft #rendog

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bellesdreamyprofile · 3 months ago

Text

chapter 20 - 1954

previous part

ELVIS PRESLEY

I finished packing my last shirt in the luggage as I heard someone knocking on my door. It wasn't Cece, since she never bothered to knock and it couldn't have been my mama as she was at work.

"Come in!", I yelled, vaguely expecting grandma Dodger to come in and scold me for my guitar playing. I caught glimpse of strands of brunette hair before the person walked in. I zipped up my luggage and turned around.

"'Dora, hey.", I smiled and straightened up.

"Hi, darling.", she smiled sweetly and shut the door. "You done packing up?"

I patted my suitcase with a proud smile. "All packed up. Could even fit my own clothes.", I joked, making a small smile appear.

"Cece is known for packing things she won't be needing, darling. Should've given you a heads up.", Pandora laughed a little and sighed, looking down.

"Nah, it's fine. If Scotty and Bill can share a suitcase, so can we.", I said in a light tone and sat on the chair by my desk. I sensed that Pandora had something to tell me and that our little jokes were a warmup for what was about to come. "Is everything okay 'Dora?", I decided to ask.

She looked up with eyes filled up with tears. "I-I know that in all these years where we've known each other- that I seem clingy and- and overbearing a-and I'm sorry-", I shook my head a little and stood up as confusion was written all over my face.

"No, 'Dora, not at all.", I said in a small tone, noticing the rawness in her words. I gently pulled her into a hug with my hand going up and down her back in comfort.

"Cece is my baby, Elvis a-and-", I didn't understand the reason of her tears, but I patted her back, giving nods in understanding. "I-I know her voice needs to be heard- Both of your voices, darling, need to be amplified in theaters, arenas-"

"Woah, slow down 'Dora.", I laughed a little, though she didn't return the gesture - she was serious. "Cece and I ain't gonna get there that fast.", I said softly, taking her hand leading her to my bed, so that she could collect herself. I pushed my suitcase off the bed and sat beside her. The energy she exuded reminded me of my mama's - her mama bear instinct and her ability to love unconditionally being the top similarities. Yet they were so different at the same time.

"I-I know I'm being paranoid, but-", she sighed and wiped a tear away. "I don't wanna a re-do of what happened when you were little...", Pandora trailed off as she fiddled with a ring around her finger.

My brows furrowed in confusion. "You mean... When her daddy took her away?'Dora...", I grasped her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. "Nobody is gonna take Cece away I-I promise- be it the last thing that I do.", I searched for her eyes in order for her to see the honesty in them.

"I'll bring her back in one piece on Sunday. It's a promise.", I gave her hand another squeeze. I sincerely hoped she believed me, because if Pandora worried then my mama would too. "What happened all those years ago was something none of us had no control over, 'Dora.", I reassured her. "I hope that one day you'll stop blaming yourself.", I murmured.

Silence engulfed us, but it was in no way uncomfortable.

"Cece is a big girl, but-", Pandora hesitated. "Promise me you're gonna look after her? Just- Just be her listening ear or-", I pulled her into a tight hug.

Before I could process her words, the door opened.

"Ops- Sorry.", I smiled into the hug, recognizing the awkward tone of the all too familiar girl. Pandora pulled away and winked, as if she knew something I didn't.

"Hey, darling.", she stood up, smiling at her daughter. Cece glanced between us, though the small smile faded at the sight of her mother's tears.

"You alright mama?", her hand placed tenderly on her arm in comfort. Pandora simply nodded and pecked her cheek.

"You kids have fun. We'll chitchat later, honey.", and those were Pandora's last words before she walked out of my room. Cece plopped herself on the bed, making it bounce a little. I glanced her way and noticed her gaze was set on the window.

"Mama was here because of the Hayride, right?"

I sighed, no little detail escaping her. "Yeah.", I simply replied and set my hand on top of hers, giving it a squeeze. "It'll be alright.", she turned her pretty face, my heart skipping a beat.

"You know, your mama talked my ear off about her little boy on the road with his guitar.", she said with a small, growing smile. I rolled my eyes and fiddled my hand away, but Cece wasn't having it. She gripped my hand back and kept pestering me about my mama's words.

"-and be careful about them beds with the low pillows and- and- no, Elvis, you gotta listen-", I gripped her waist and pushed her on my bed, tickling her. Her laughter filled up the room, her hands covering her stomach as something slipped away from her hold.

"Whatcha got there, honey?", Cece sat up, but with a gentle hand on her stomach, I pushed her down again, my action earning a groan from her side. I bent down to grasp whatever had fallen down and picked it up.

"Capt. Marvel Jr. meets Captain Nippon.", I read out loud. Cece sat up and looked at the comic with me.

I flicked through the pages and smiled a little at the familiar pictures. "Where'd you find this?", my eyes moved on Cece who had a small smile painted on her lips.

"Your mama said something about you wanting to save me from my daddy.", she said in a light tone. "I looked through your collection and noticed that this one was the only one you didn't have."

I shook my head a little. "You and your thoughtful, extravagant gifts, Cece.", I accused her, but she simply smiled.

"You are a hero, you know.", her head softly fell on my shoulder. "Instead of a cape you got a guitar and- oh my god.", she gasped suddenly, alarming me.

"What?"

"Is that the reason why you dyed your hair black-", I muffled her words with my lips, until she stopped squirming and kissed me back. Her hand crossed behind my neck as she kissed me with the same passion I felt for her.

"I don't like you cutting me off like that.", she murmured against my lips. I pecked her lips again to prove a point and then gazed into her eyes.

"Sometimes it's necessary, honey.", and I kissed her again. And again. And again.

"Do you kids need anything else? You've got the water bottles and-"

"Yes, mama.", Cece cut Pandora off and quickly moved to kiss both of her cheeks. "We've got everything, don't you worry. Elvis and I went through everything at least half a dozen times.", she wrapped an arm around her shoulder as she spoke in a joking manner. Pandora sighed and went in to hug Cece again.

"Son, don't you forget your guitar.", I finished moving our bags in the trunk and peaked to my right.

"Thank you, daddy.", I grasped the guitar from his hold and set it in. "Where's mama?"

He hid his hands in his pockets and nodded towards the apartment building. "Should be down in a minute."

I nodded and felt a little awkward. I looked over at Cece being smothered with kisses and hugs by Pandora, an action that made me smile. I looked over at my daddy, who was forcing interest in my truck, giving comments about the tires and the chipped paint.

I loved and cared for my daddy, but we never had the relationship my mama and I had. Before I could think any further, my mama rushed over with a container in her hands.

"Oh, thank god. I thought you had already left.", she said, trying to catch her breath.

"Could never leave without saying bye.", said Cece with a small smile.

"What kind of son would I be, mama?", I said in a light, joking tone. Though she didn't seem to appreciate my comment.

"Here honey.", mama handed Cece the container and then moved towards me. I heard Cece gasp in delight with a faint exclamation of 'cookies!'.

Mama wrapped her arms around me and almost instantly I felt her tears wet my neck. "Don't cry mama.", I said faintly. "If you cry, I cry.", the words seemed to make her weep even harder.

Last night, after Cece hit the sack, I sat with mama in the balcony. The fresh air did us good - it cleared my head in the best way possible as I was with my best girl after all.

"It's four days mama and you'll be joining us with 'Dora and daddy on Saturday. It'll be alright.", I caressed her cheek, fighting back stingy tears. I desperately tried to convince myself that this was right. That I- Cece and I were deserving of this. We deserved this. But how could I leave my mama?

"I ain't afraid of this, Booby.", she sniffled, wiping a tear away. "I'm afraid what this will lead you both to.", I shook my head a little as an automatic smile formed on my lips.

"'Dora said the same thing.", I said in a light tone. "You know, if this leads us where you think it will, I'll buy you a pink Cadillac.", I smiled, though more tears kept rolling down her cheeks.

"I don't need no pink Cadillac, baby.", mama shook her head. "I've seen you perform. Them guys howling at Cece like she's a piece of meat... And them girls screaming- hurting you... That just ain't right."

I sighed at her insecurities. "They ain't hurting nobody, mama. It was two girls who accidentally pushed the guitar off my hands. It was an accident.", I justified.

"What if that ain't no accident next time? You're strong, Booby, but Cece-"

I immediately cut her off, not letting her even think about her presumptions. "Cece is a strong lady, mama. And I'm always by her side. We're a team."

The words lingered in the air for a while. The trees in the distance moving with the gentle sway of the breeze. My eyes stayed there, almost hypnotized by such natural happenings, until my mama spoke again.

"I think you two youngins are more than a team.", I blinked as I looked over at her.

"We're a duo.", I said the words I repeated to Cece when we were just kids. Mama gave me a small smile and looked away.

"I know love when I see it, Booby."

"I love her, mama.", I told her honestly. "There's nobody else I'd rather do this with than her."

"There's nobody else I'd rather see you do this with than her.", her words lead to an unspoken approval of our relationship. "That little girl...", mama smiled absentmindedly. "Take care of each other, Elvis."

"We will, mama.", I wrapped my arms around her and shut my eyes tightly, cherishing every little second.

I moved to hug Pandora, whose tear-stained cheeks matched my mama's.

"Good luck, darling.", she wept in my shoulder. "Take care of each other.", I smiled at her words, which confirmed how much mothers thought alike. Anything for the wellness of their child.

"Take care of my mama.", I said to her and kissed both of her cheeks.

"Thank you, Gladys.", I heard Cece say. "Oh, Vernon, I made that cake that you like. It's in that purple container.", she informed with a small smile, making me approach her and wrap an arm round her shoulder.

"That is if Grandma Dodger hasn't found it first. Oh, well.", she thought out loud and then sighed, the small smile a little brighter.

"You're an angel, Cece. Thank you.", my daddy thanked her and that was when I sensed it was time for us to leave.

I leaned towards Cece. "I think it's time for us to get going, little one.", though I looked away to not let anyone else suspect anything, I caught glimpse of the rosy blush on her cheeks. I squeezed her shoulder and then pulled away, going in for the last round of hugs.

"See you on Saturday.", I saluted with a smile.

"Call us when you get there!"

"Good luck children!"

"Say hi to Bill and Scotty."

I opened the passenger door and let Cece in, who quietly thanked me. I rapidly hopped in on my side and with a last wave to our family, we were off.

I grasped her hand and pecked it with my lips. The girl to my right giggled adorably and unexpectedly pulled me in for a kiss. I laughed at her action.

"Cecilia Flora Martin! I'm driving!", and she kissed me again.

"Eyes on the road, Presley."

A/N: thank you so much for waiting on me & this chapter! hope you enjoyed it as much as I have 💋 consider leaving a like & a comment

index chapter 21

#fanfiction #imagine #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #50s elvis #elvis presley x reader #the presleys #elvis the king

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nukedimplosion · 1 year ago

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Why I believe Spade King will be redeemed

The Spade King is a... controversial character to say the least. From what I've seen, opinions of him range from a complete monster to an abusive douche with little leeway.

So, making a post about how this villain will be redeemed in future chapters may seem like a slap in the face. Let it be known that none of this is to upset real survivors of abuse, but instead it is to highlight the many indicators I feel show that Spade King is not beyond redemption.

I personally have had this theory since around when chapter 2 came out, and time has only solidified it, but this is the first time I actually got the confidence to post it.

That being said, let's get into the evidence.

THE FOUNTAIN

In the 6th anniversary stream for Undertale, Fangamer played through an edited version of Deltarune with Toby Fox making comments about development, the characters etc.

When facing the Spade King, Fangamer talked about how they hoped Spade King had been a good dad 'before the other mouth grew in'.

Toby Fox then says this;

'I mean, I think that fountain definitely changed his behaviour. For sure.'

This quote is stated around the 3 hour mark of the livestream video below.

So what does this mean? You may want to argue that Toby was not be literal when he made this statement, and that the fountain was a simple temptation instead of something that directly effected his behaviour. But then there's the queen...

The queen seems to have also experienced this fountain brought phenomena despite only wanting to use it to serve the Lightners instead of oppose.

She threatens and attempts to kill the Lightners. She establishes a regime significantly more strict then the last. She won't stop going on about the Knight. These are all things the King does as well.

It seems that the fountain abstracts the behaviour of their respective rulers for the sake of the Knight.

Okay, so the fountain impacts the King's behaviour, great. Doesn't change the fact that he threatened his son, and refuses to apologise or acknowledge his wrong doing now the fountain is closed.

Well, that leads me onto the next part...

HIS SON

Let's immediately establish one thing; the Chaos King does care for his son. While how genuine that care is is debated by the fandom, I would like to make the case that he was a good dad and does want Lancer to be happy.

First of all is the quote about the fountain that Toby made in the anniversary stream, which was a reply to a comment about how Fangamer hoped that he was a good dad.

Replying then seems to indicate that the fountain did impact his ability to be a good father.

More importantly is his dialogue in jail.

Here, he asked directly if his son is happy, in hesitant, even reserved manner. This is in direct contrast to how he mocks the Lightners with his boisterous grin or cruel frown.

Remember when he was yelling that he'll 'KILL ALL OF YOU' while his subjects dragged him away? An insurrection led by his son, who he called a traitor? Despite this, he seems to hold no ill will towards his son or his fellow darkners (we'll get to that). This behaviour I believe was caused by the fountain, thus the attitude change.

And yes, I do acknowledge that he has lied for sympathy before (his act before Ralsei healed him in chapter 1), but this is different. There is no reason to lie at this point; there's no way they would believe him.

He also admits that if he HAD let his son go, Lancer would have just... bounced. He then calls his son a bouncy little pumpkin. This line is notably similar to a line right after Susie casts pacify on him, calling her a 'sweet little pumpkin', again hinting that he was a good dad before the fountain and his love towards Lancer isn't a lie.

'But' you may argue, 'Lancer was afraid! He knew his son was scared of him but kept threatening anyways!'

Which is a valid point, and is obviously horrible.

BUT combined with the fountain being an impact for his decisions, I think it is also a valid idea that there's more to it than 'The Spade King is abusive'.

Both the Queen and King are callous when it comes to the opinion and wellbeing of others. Queen spends the entirety of Chapter 2 attempting to force Noelle to do as she says, even threatening to kill her classmates (and crush) for the sake of her goal.

What King does is similar, making Lancer watch as his friends get killed because he didn't do as he said. It's cruel, yes, but this is another case where you can argue the fountain may have led to this mutual behaviour.

(You may argue that the Queen has the excuse of being a computer who isn't completely in tune with peoples emotions. This argument doesn't really make sense because she actively uses Noelle's emotions against her in a way that shows she understands how upset it makes her.)

I do believe that Spade King knew his son was upset and still went along with it. This post isn't some elongated argument for Spade King's sainthood.

But I do have to say, him being aware and still going along with it may explain why he's hesitant to talk about Lancer in his jail cell. He knows he messed up and is feeling guilty post-fountain, he's just too prideful to up and say it to the face of the enemy. What he did is not a show of Spade King's abusive inhernet nature but an example of the fountain clouding his full judgement at that moment.

Also, you may argue that Spade King was neglectful of his son, leaving him to Rouxls Kaard to be cared for. I do believe that there has been a bit of exaggeration on this point. Yes, he does put his son in the care of his employees perhaps more than he should, but he's also straight up a King. He's a busy guy.

'Oh, but he doesn't feed him, the poor boy is starving!'

Honestly, my big question is why he's cooking in the first place. He's a King, he has subjects literally fanning his son and he can't afford one chef? It seems like this is more a downtime thing he does with his son for the sake of family bonding (may explain where the food based nickname of 'sweet little pumpkin' came from) and he knows his son will be fed by his employees when he's busy.

Again, too dependent, but I don't see any signs of such an intense neglect to call him a bad dad.

Of course, this is more in the assumption category. It is possible the neglect is more active and that the King is just a douche, but I feel that we are being purposely mislead here.

Now, onto the final point.

HIS SUBJECTS

Let's talk about why Spade King did what he did.

Spade King hates Lightners, that much is obvious. He calls them scum, says that 'their existence goes against our own' and feels absolutely no guilt towards trying to kill them post-fountain.

Which isn't really not justified. Darkners were made to keep Lightners happy, only to be abandoned by them. The Chaos King has to watch as the kingdom, HIS kingdom, rotted without meaning. He had to raise his son with the understanding that he would never be 'truely happy' because the so called only source of happiness for Darkners left them to the wayside.

So, when the Knight came, is it really that surprising he would try to create a 'new purpose' as he said? Yes, perhaps world domination is a bit insane (maybe he's dramatic like that, maybe it was the fountain, he does hate Lightners so it's likely both) but the core of his ideals, that darkners can be something beyond what they are to Lightners is not only justified but correct.

In the scene where the gang are walking to the castle in Chapter 1, Lancer acknowledges how happy he is to be here, feeling like he's doing 'something important'. Ralsei replies that this is because he is serving the Lightners and that is the purpose of the Darkners.

Susie is notably uncomfortable, and dismisses Ralsei's point as 'weird purpose' talk and simply says that Lancer is just happy because he ate a weird berry. This is the first sign that the plot beat of Darkners only gaining happiness from Lightners is not just going to be an accepted status quo by the main cast and that there is likely to be more contention about the subject in the future.

(I would also like to mention that Ralsei in this scene asks if the Spade King is happy, in which Lancer very hesitantly says he's not sure.)

Then, in chapter 2, Ralsei is shown to be confused about friendship. He starts to understand that friendship is more than just being nice all the time and that he should be more 'Ralsei-like', meaning more like himself.

The problem is that he doesn't know what that is. He's spent all this time forming himself into the perfect companion but he doesn't know how to be himself. This is a result of his purpose, his wish to be the perfect Darkner for his friends. Now, his purpose seems more cloudy. Should he continue being the perfect little angel for his friends or should he become someone who is more genuine on their own terms, like what his friends seem to want?

While Ralsei is still doing everything he can for the Lighteners, he is slowly becoming his own individual, which is what the King wanted for all Darkners.

Then there's the general themes of control. Be it Kris, the secret bosses or the Spade King, all of these people wish to be more than the binds that control them. While the Spade King is acting on behalf of the Knight, he does so to free his people from the influence of the Lightners, to make purpose on their own terms and be their own people.

Just like how Kris wishes to be free from, you, the player, also making their own purpose and be their own person. May I remind you that the Darkners are media and toys, fun things meant to be enjoyed. They are in universe equivalents of video game characters, made to entertain Lightners, just like Kris, Ralsei and Susie are made to entertain us. The only difference is that the latter is closer to the forth wall.

So yes, while his world domination thing was wack, I believe the Spade King is righteous in his core values.

So why doesn't any other character seem to agree?

Ralsei completely believes that Darkners can only gain happiness from Lightners, Queen does everything she does for the sake of Lightners, hell, the town that the Darkners live in isn't named after the Prince or anything but you, a Lightner. They even call you boss!

At this point, the only character who cares for Darkners having a purpose outside of Lightners is locked in a jail cell.

Now, it is possible that Toby Fox introduces another character who has Spade King's beliefs but is less nasty about it, but that's lame. It's also possible that Ralsei has an epiphany and realise that Darkners deserve better and that becomes the result of his arc. Better, and I can see him going in that direction, but I still think it's less satisfactory.

In any route in which you don't get all recruits, the King is the only person who acknowledges this and is actively upset about it. Even the Queen is hesitant yet still ultimately okay with leaving her subjects behind because the Lightners are onboard.

The goofy cutscene where he asks for cashews? Gone. He simply remarks on how you left them behind like Lightners left the Card Kingdom darkners behind and tells you to 'Begone'. The first line is said with a smile, knowing that he's been proven right but after that, the smile leaves and he's just... cold. He seems genuinely upset about what happened to the Darkners you left behind, portrayed with a '...' in his second line and the loss of his smile. He is not trying to trick you, you simply disgust him at this point. He cares for Darkners in a way that no character has shown yet (aside from Nubert (the goat))

This is why the title of this post is why Spade King is GOING to be redeemed and not me saying he SHOULD be. The difference in levity between an interaction with the Spade King post full recruits and not full recruits indicates that by getting recruits, the King is more willing to acknowledge you and, perhaps with time, your points and intentions. If Spade King was supposed to be this abusive bastard, having characters such as the Queen be on positive terms with him seems strange. You can argue nuance all you want, but the Queen, a character who we're supposed to like, being friends with a character we're supposed to end up hating seems like a strange writing decision no matter how you slice it. Especially if he's a straight up child abuser.

(yes I know she might not know but are you really expecting an epic drama where Queen finds out he's an abusive scumbag and calls him out? Having a morally positive character be friends with an abuser can work but in this situation, it is objectively a weird choice and I will argue on that)

He asks for cashews in this chapter and suckles out a giant hamster water container. Maybe the second serves to make him look pathetic, but then the Queen apparently has the same thing but bigger. The cashew bit is played off as endearing more then anything.

This is all because you got those recruits. Without them, he doesn't even talk to you. Therefore, it can be concluded that Spade King does have a chance. After all, if all of him was completely against you and believed you would be bound to abandon them, he would not be talking to you in any route. It's only when you prove it directly that he stops.

Toby Fox uses the recruit dialogue to endear you to him, which I presume is to set up a redemption if you continue to go down the recruit everyone path. By proving him wrong in future chapters, I presume he will talk more about himself and his ideals and perhaps listen to the Fun Gang and his son in turn.

CONCLUSION

My prediction is that over the course of the chapters, players will see more and more endearing aspects of the Chaos King, with things such as his theoretical neglect and love for Lancer being properly clarified and elaborated on, but only if you keep all recruits. He will still be sceptical, perhaps even leading to him going against you when the Knight returns, but he will ultimately fight by your side if you have successfully convinced him through your treatment of the Darkners that Lightners aren't bad after all.

Hopefully by the ending point, Ralsei would have had enough of an extential crisis to hear the Spade King out on his whole 'Darkners deserve to be happy without the Lightners' deal. Susie would absolutely be on board with her friends finding happiness without needing Lightners (I can see her arguing with Ralsei about it in a future chapter).

I can see him sacrificing himself, but I don't want Lancer to deal with that.

The final point I would like to mention is his place in the narrative. A lot of people have argued that all he is meant to be in an objective evil to prove that Ralsei was wrong about fighting never being the answer and that a redemption would ruin that, and yes, that is his role is chapter 1.

But if that was his only purpose, bringing him back as the only person to actively acknowledge the consequences of your lack of recruits seems pointless. Giving him moments of endearment and clarifying he loves his son is unnecessary. You, again, can argue it's for the sake of nuance but I think at this point I have clarified that there is a lot more to it than that.

Besides, what would be more satisfying to see than the most stubborn character of your journey, the only one you could not convince in the chapter he appeared in, joining your side as a result of you sparing every darkner you can?

In a game with only one ending, making routes like full mercy seem worth it is kind of important if you want players to bother caring about those mechanics. The few dialogue changes we do get really don't cut it.

But witnessing the development of a character who you started off hating but then becomes your ally due to your decisions and comes to help you in your darkest hour?

That would be worth it.

---

Thanks for reading this theory! It's been a while since I've written a theory like that. Do say your opinions, I know this is a desisive topic but I am still happy to hear people's perspectives!

#deltarune #spade king #chaos king #deltarune theory #deltarune analysis #deltarune chapter 2

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queen-of-deans-booty · 1 month ago

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Alpha and Omega: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Summary: When trapping Amara doesn't work, the only thing that might work is killing her. Chuck is dying, so to balance the scales, Amara has to die... which means you have to die. Dean gets ready to do the impossible while you work to remind Amara what family is really about. After all, you've got room for one more.

Season Eleven Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

If Dean is going to die, he has to visit his mother's grave one last time. He and Sam stand in front of it while Rowena, Chuck, Castiel, and Crowley wait by the car not even a hundred yards away.

"Dean, you don't have to do this," Sam whispers.

"I'm the only one who can... the only one who should. It's Y/N, man. She's my best friend. If she goes down, I'm going down with her."

"What about your kids?"

"I am doing this for them, Sam. Y/N has no one on her side. The kids have you and Cas and Jody and the girls." Dean sniffles. "They'll be okay but Y/N won't." He looks at his wedding band. The one that belonged to his father. "Till death due us part, right? I took a vow to protect her. This is how I do that. At least we'll be in Heaven together. Bobby's up there, too. I bet he'd like to see her again. He might kick my ass for bringing her a bit early, but I'm sure he'll forgive me." Dean drops his voice to a whisper. "Robert's up there."

Dean pats his brother on the back and walks back to the group, leaving Sam alone with their mother for a minute more.

"Are you okay with this?" Dean asks Chuck.

"No. Even after everything she's done, Amara's still my sister. She's my family. I can't... I don't want to see her dead, but... I understand."

"Dean," Castiel whispers.

The angel pulls Dean in for a tight hug, and Dean wraps his arms around his waist. He'll allow himself to have this moment.

"Promise me something, Cas."

"Anything."

"Look after my kids and dogs, okay? Look after Molly." Dean tries hard not to cry. "Protect them. I don't want to see them in Heaven a minute before they should be okay?"

"I promise."

"You know they really love you. Joanna especially. You're her Uncle Cassie."

Castiel gets tears. "I really love them, too."

Sam comes back and Dean looks at his brother.

"Tell stories about me and Y/N to them. The good ones. But not so much that they're sad we're gone. Y/N was right. They need to have a childhood, and I need you to promise me you'll give it to them. They deserve to have a life not condemned like ours."

"You got it," Sam sniffles.

"I could go with you," Castiel offers.

"No, I have to do this alone. Thank you for everything, Cas." Dean wipes the tears and slaps his hands together. "Okay, look. I want a big funeral. I'm talking epic. Okay? Open bar, choir, Sabbath cover band, and Gary Busey reading the eulogy."

"Done," Sam nods.

"For our ashes, I think she'd like it here. I like it here. You know, as far as eternal resting places go." Dean reaches into his pocket and takes out the keys to the Impala. He hesitates before handing them to Dean. Sam shakes his head with tears in his eyes. "Come on. You know the drill. No chick-flick moments. Come on."

Sam hesitates but takes the keys. "You love chick flick moments."

Dean chuckles. "Yeah, you're right. I do. Come here."

Dean pulls his brother in for a hug, and they embrace tightly. A tear rolls down Sam's cheek, but he wipes it away before pulling back. Dean clears his throat and looks at Chuck.

"I'm ready."

Check snaps his fingers and sends Dean to the garden where Amara is. The place is empty, free of the old woman and the birds. Dean sees the dead flowers and knows she is here. The sun is getting dimmer which means Dean is running out of time. The garden isn't huge but Dean walks the entirety of it looking for Amara.

"Dean."

He turns and sees Amara standing by the fountain. Only... she's not you. She is herself, the version of her before she connected with you. If she's really out of you and you're safe... No, he still needs to do this. At least his kids will be with you, safe, once this is all over. It'll be nice to spend time with his son in Heaven.

"Where is my wife?"

"Safe. How did you find me?"

"Does it matter? I'm here to give you what you want. Me."

"That's a change."

"I can't just stand by and watch the world, my friends, and my family die." He starts walking toward her slowly. "So, if becoming a part of you takes me away from that, then I'm in."

"You and that bomb in your chest?" Dean stops walking. "Do you think I can't taste the power coming off of you? Please. The problem is you've never been able to hurt me. So, what makes this time any different?"

"I don't have a choice. Look at what you're doing to the sun!"

"That's not me. With my brother getting weaker, the scales are tipping away from light and into nothing. When God's gone, the universe—everything will cease to exist. Including me. My brother betrayed me. He locked me away for billions of years. He sent you to execute me."

"No, he didn't. He brought me here but he doesn't want this. This wasn't his idea. You're his family, Amara. He doesn't want you dead. He never wanted this... Do you?"

Amara thinks back to the old woman and then of you. "No! I just wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him pay."

"That's called revenge. Sure, it'll get you out of bed in the morning. Sure, it feels fantastic... for about five minutes. I've been there. Me, Sam, and Y/N... Do you think we've never had problems? When I couldn't man up and admit my feelings for Y/N, she was ready to leave. I didn't let her. Sam kick-started the apocalypse and set Lucifer free by trusting a demon over his own brother. I still forgave him.

"Y/N got pregnant and got an abortion without telling me. It took me a while but I still forgave her. I... I left her for another woman yet she still married me. Sam did a lot of terrible things when he was soulless yet Y/N and I forgave him. She did terrible things while soulless but I still love her. I'm in love with her.

"When everything goes to shit... At the end of the day... All you have is family. You might be an all-powerful being, but I think you're human where it counts. You just want your brother back like I wanted mine."

"Stop it," she glares with tears.

"You don't want to be alone. Not really. I don't either. I mean, hell. Maybe that's why you wanted me. When really, deep down, you didn't want me because I'm not him. At the end of the day, there is no one like your sibling. No one will ever be able to replace him, so I'm going to ask you again. Put aside the rage, put aside the hate, and you tell me... What do you want?"

Amara sobs once and looks to the sky at the dimming sun. She wants her brother again. She snaps her fingers and transports Chuck right into the garden. He looks around in shock at Dean still alive and Amara... still alive.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Brother, I... In the beginning, it was just you and me, and we were family. I loved you, and I thought—I knew that you loved me."

"I did." He sighs. "I do."

"Then you went and you made all these other things. I hated them. I hated you for needing something else, something that wasn't me. Then you locked me away, and all I could think about was making you suffer."

"You had your reasons."

"I did, and I thought revenge would make me happy, but I was wrong. What you've made..." She looks at the garden. "it's beautiful. It took me a long time to see that. I know that we can't go back to the way things were. I don't want to, but I wish... I wish that we could just be family again."

"I do, too. More than you know."

Chuck reaches out his hand and Amara takes it. Their hands start to glow, and light is restored. The sun is healed from their pain. Dean watches as the sun gets brighter until it's restored to what it was. He has to shield his eyes from it being too bright. Amara holds out her other hand and golden light shoots out in waves.

She heals her brother of whatever she did to him.

"Where is my wife?" Dean asks. "Why did you let her go?"

Amara and Chuck step off to the side, and you come walking out from behind the fountain.

"Hi, Dean," you smile.

Dean is about to say something when he notices your pregnant belly. Nine months to be exact. He knows you didn't cheat. When would Amara have time to go out there and sleep with men? He's just confused as to how this happened.

"She reminded me of what family is all about," Amara says.

"How did this happen?"

"She created life where there was none previously." Amara smiles at you. "The ultimate Sapphire Witch move. I underestimated you."

You close your eyes and blue magic swirls around you like a mist and a cloud. When it dies down, you're no longer pregnant, and you're holding your brand-new baby girl. Dean gasps and walks over to you to get a better look at her. She looks so small.

"Does she have a name?" Dean whispers. You look up and shake your head. He doesn't hesitate with this one. "How about Celeste?"

Tears well in your eyes. "Charlie for short."

Dean nods and he kisses his daughter's head delicately.

"I think we're just gonna go away for a while," Chuck announces.

"Yeah, family meeting. I get it."

"First..." He walks over to Dean and puts his hand to his chest. He removes all of the souls Rowena placed in there, and Dean winces in pain. "Better?"

"What about us? What about Earth?"

"Earth will be fine. It's got you... and Sam... and Y/N."

"Dean, Y/N... you both gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you." She looks at you. "You reminded me what it's like to have a family again, and for that, I will give you back yours."

Amara transforms into black mist while Chuck transforms into white mist. Both of them shoot off into the sky.

"I've missed you so much," Dean whispers. He leans down and kisses you, his heart already healing. "Don't leave again."

"I'll try not to," you smile. "Where are our kids?"

"I sent them and the dogs to Jody. Molly went home. They're all safe."

"Good. Do you know where we are? How the hell do we get back home?"

"I don't know, but let's do it together." You and Dean leave the garden and walk until it's nighttime. Charlie sleeps peacefully in your arms, and Dean smiles down at her. "How the hell did this happen?"

"I don't know. I remember an old radio and my voice telling me to wake up. As much as Amara was learning from me, I was learning from her. She made journals while she was away. I read every single one of them. I knew she'd let me go if I became pregnant, so I did it without even thinking. Now we have Charlie."

Dean blurts out the question before he thinks about it. "Is she mine?"

"Of course. I created her using both of our DNA. You're the only one I want to have kids with. I'm warning you now, she is the last one. I'm thirty-seven. This factory is closed for good."

"I agree," Dean smiles. You get to the edge of the woods, and Dean tries to get a signal on his phone. "Yeah, there isn't any signal. We just have to keep walking. You don't have, like, portal powers do you?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Help!" You and Dean look in the distance where the voice is coming from. "Help me!"

You two follow the sounds where there is a clearing. There is a sidewalk and a trail. You're back to civilization. Only... that's not what you're focusing on.

The woman standing right in front of you, the one crying out for help, is none other than Mary Winchester wearing the white nightgown she was burned in thirty years ago.

"Mom?"

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #supernatural series rewrite

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zeewritez · 1 year ago

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The Sailor and The Samurai - II

Mizu x Femme Shipmate/Pirate Reader

Hello lovelies! I didn't expect so many people to enjoy my last fic, but I have some time between classes to make a little sequel. Hope you enjoy!

Notes: A leanbh (uh lan-uv) means my child :), alcohol consumption, peer pressure (?)

Part I

It had been a week since the Banshee had taken sail and the crew expected to dock in Shanghai the following day. Y/n had woken up uncharacteristically early with an unexplainable feeling of anxiety. She could feel in her bones that something was wrong.

Upon getting dressed, she made he way to the stern. The winds were powerful and packed a mighty chill for the spring. She was glad to be wearing a proper coat. The girl peered out into the vast abyss, looking for potential danger. Yet to no avail, as the sky was still a deep blue and nothing could be seen in the distance except for faint outlines of waves. See and sky blended almost seamlessly.

"Good morning my dear," her father's voice rang behind her along with the sound of his heavy boots. "How come you're up so early?"

"Something's off," she told him, not removing her gaze from the distance. "I can tell."

The captain placed a firm hand on the shoulder, squeezing gently. "I feel it too, a leanbh," he said, reaching for his rosary absentmindedly. As he walked away his daughter did the same, unintentionally mirroring him and running her fingers over each blood-red bead. She repeated her silent prayers several times as she roamed the ship. Looking for danger around every corner and from each angle of the vessel.

"y/n," a voice rang out from above. It sounded like an angel but when she looked up it was no other than the latest addition to the ship: Mizu. "What's the matter?"

Y/n couldn't help but smile at him despite the distress in his voice as she climbed to join him on in the crows next. It was odd to her that he was up there, especially so early, but she set that aside once she was greeted by his beautiful blue eyes.

"Something is wrong," she told him as she sat in front of him, her legs tucked neatly to her side. The wind blew with more anger than it had on the deck, causing her hair to dance around her face in pirouettes.

"What's wrong?" the young man asked plainly.

"I don't know," she said. "But I can feel something bad is approaching us. Like there's a danger we can't see yet."

"Is that so?" Mizu asked with a small smile tugging at his lips.

"You don't believe me?" y/n said with a grin, tilting her head.

"I didn't say that," Mizu retorted. y/n rolled her eyes, her smile not faltering, as she rose to her feet. Mizu did the same, not wanting her to leave without him. She had no intentions of this regardless. She gazed upon Mizu's face, so strong yet equally soft. She leaned towards him like the moon to the earth, falling forward endlessly. Yet as the moon never reaches the earth, neither did she reach Mizu. Just behind him, golden rays began to reflect on the water.

Turning around she was greeted with the cause of her worries: a bright red sun began to paint the sky. It was only a few brush strokes, yet she knew it was the beginning of crimson sunrise.

"I need to go," Y/n told Mizu with sudden urgency, her voice serious like Mizu had never heard previously.

Y/n rushed down the crow's nest with speed and purpose. Once on the deck, she rushed to the rear of the ship. She swung open the doors to the captain's cabin with no hesitation.

"What is it, y/n?" her father asked, taken aback.

"Look at the sky," she said. The two walked out onto the deck and sure enough the red had grown larger, taking up more and more of the sky.

"We'll monitor the winds," the captain said. "If they don't settle by early afternoon we'll begin furling the sails and bunker down for the night. I pray we won't be blown off course too badly."

As the day went on the winds refused to calm down, they stirred up the water with anger, tossing the ship ferociously before even a cloud could be seen.

Yet the cloud eventually made an appearance. First, they fell over the sky like a chiffon curtain at noon, then by early evening, they fell over the sky in thick drapes. The sun was nearly blotted out completely.

Captain Cabe called for all hands on deck to secure what cargo was on the deck, furling the sails and anchoring the skip in some attempt to stay on course. Two of the largest men were tasked with escorting Fowler from the cell to a secure storage room on one of the lower decks. Rain began to fall from the heavens as if on queue.

Mizu was pulled aside by the captain with a special task.

"I want you to stay by y/n," he told him, his voice both sounding like a demand and a plea. "You are a trustworthy man, I can tell. The storm will pass, but God forbid Fowler escapes, you keep her safe."

Mizu nodded without a word and went off to look for the woman in question. She was scurrying across the deck in an attempt to void the cold rain that poured from the heavens.

"Y/n," Mizu called out for the second time that day. She saw him and took his hand without a word, pulling him close behind her as she led him to her quarters: a small room next to the captain's cabin.

"Your father has requested I stay with you until the storm is over," Mizu said plainly, though he felt his face heat at the words being said aloud.

"Truly?" y/n asked as she kicked off her boot and threw off her coat which was now soaked. Her blouse and skirt were surprisingly dry, with only some dampness at the hem of her skirt. She sat down on her cot, leaning forward.

"Are you mocking me?" Mizu asked as he sat on the chair by y/n's desk, his eyes trained on the young woman.

Y/n shook her head, telling him "I would've wanted you to stay with me regardless of what my father asked of you."

"Truly?" Mizu asked coyly.

"Why of course, good sir," Y/n said as she laid down and looked at the beams that made up her ceiling. She could feel the boat rocking, yet she knew from experience this was only the beginning. She only prayed the doors to her bookshelf wouldn't swing open like last time. A strong wave hit the vessel, causing Mizu's chair to slide a few inches.

"Is this normal?" Mizu asked, her voice no longer playful.

"Pretty normal," y/n replied nonchalantly. "Judging by the winds it will get worse before it gets better." The boat shook again, this time throwing Mizu off of the chair and y/n off of her cot. Both of them giggled as they came to their feet, only to nearly be thrown back onto the floor. Mizu grabbed y/n gently by the waist, afraid she might fall.

"How do you normally pass the time during storms?" Mizu asked. A sudden glee lit up y/n's face.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said, removing herself from Mizu's grasp to dig through a chest. It was filled mostly with clothing, yet at the bottom a promising clear bottle. "Behold!"

"What's that?"

"Vodka," she explained proudly, taking a seat on the floor. She patted the ground next to her, beckoning Mizu to join her. "It's like sake, but ... different."

Y/n popped the cap and took a long swig from the bottle, then offered it to her companion. He eyed it suspiciously, before taking an equally long sip. She raised her eyebrow in anticipation of his response. At first, it tasted of nothing, then a sudden burn scalded the back of his throat.

"You drink this?" he asked. "For fun?"

"A few more sips and I promise it'll be fun." The sailor took the bottle from his hand and threw back another gulp. Then two more. A trail of the clear liquid ran down her chin, which she wiped away. She handed the bottle back to the samurai. No words needed to be exchanged to signal that this was now a matter of pride. Mizu took the bottle, taking just as man sip as she had, but with a pause between each as though he was questioning everything. y/n giggled at his expressions.

"It's not that bad," she said, taking the bottle back and corking it again. With great effort, the bottle was returned to the chest. She nearly stumbled as she attempted to sit once again. It was impossible to tell whether it was the alcohol or the state of the rocking ship that caused this. Regardless, Mizu gently held onto her waist as she sat down once again, this time much closer to each other. Y/n looked over at her new friend's face, her lids heavy as the alcohol took its course.

"You're so beautiful Mizu, did you know that?" The man didn't know whether to laugh or be flattered by her drunken affection.

"Nowhere as beautiful as you, y/n," he retorted. He just then noticed that his hands were still around her. Y/n raised her hand to gently cupped his face, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb. She was fully aware that her sober self would never do such a thing, but she couldn't stop herself. There it was again, that force that brought her to Mizu, drawing her in. Then, a sudden realization hit her like an earthquake. She was astonished she hadn't noticed it sooner.

"You're far too beautiful to be a man," she said. "Too kind, too gentle, as well. No man would be satisfied with simply holding me in his arms. He would try to claw at me and undress me."

Mizu's eyes grew wide. She'd never been outed so quickly, so unprompted. She thought she had mastered the appearance of a man, yet hadn't mastered their cruelty. Mizu, dumbfounded by y/n's observation, opened her mouth to speak yet no words could exit her lips. Y/n gently placed a finger across the blue-eyed woman's lips.

"You need not speak," the sailor spoke, her voice more sincere than Mizu had heard before. Y/n reached behind the woman's head, untying her hair, which fell down her shoulders like black silk. With her hair untied, it was now plain as day: the samurai she had grown to admire so this past week was indeed a woman. Y/n repeated her question: "You're beautiful, Mizu, did you know that?"

A wide smile fell upon Mizu's face. She now cupped y/n face, peering into her eyes. There was a safety in them that she hadn't seen in a long time. Without uttering another word, the two women finally gave in to their gravitational pull. Their lips met in a powerful collision of passion, their bodies melding into one. They became a supernova of desire.

#reader insert #mizu x you #mizu x reader #bes mizu #bes #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu x y/n #blue eye samurai x you #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai fanfic #blue eye samurai #bes x reader #mizu bes

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