#but I did tell my betrothed to make me sit up straight any time I tell them I feel sick cause I never think of it in the moment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rollinouttahere-writes · 7 months ago

Note

Do you think that the whole cake island would be the first place sanji and nijis fiancé darling meet?. Or did he know about her/see her during his childhood but was never permitted to speak to her because of his status as the weakest Prince. And potentially causing possible issues with the political alliance if it looked like judge was going to offer a betrothal with the noble girl/princess and his weakest child as that would be considered a insult

Initially, I had planned for that to be their first meeting, but this ask quickly made me considered the other option and it spiraled out of control from there. Here is the result.

I decided to use (y/n) instead the the name established throughout the au since this was supposed to be a reader insert originally. I apologize for any inaccuracies that there may be in this. I haven't gotten to this arc yet, so I'm just working off of random spoilers and wikis.

Confrontations and Complications

Sanji x Princess Reader

2.9k words

warnings: implied afab reader, this is straight up angst no comfort

Heels click loudly against the floor as you run through the quiet hallways. The skirt of your dress and your petticoats were bunched up in your fists to prevent you from tripping. There was no telling how long of a window you would have to do this, and you refused to miss your chance at this.

Niji became distracted at the perfect moment for you to slip away undetected, and Reiju had given her word that she would do her best to redirect him should he notice your absence. While you and Reiju weren’t on the friendliest terms as of late, she appeared to be acting in your best interest for the time being. It was debatable how trustworthy she truly was, but you were willing to take the risk in this one instance.

This was of the utmost importance.

The flurry of clicks from your shoes slow as the door you’ve been searching for comes into view, then eventually comes to a complete halt. You pant as you catch your breath and stare at the door. You make a hasty attempt to fix your clothes and hair, then straighten your tiara that had been bouncing freely on your head as you ran. After all of this time, you didn’t want to look unkempt when he saw you.

Steeling yourself with one last deep breath, you grasp the knob and open the door.

Sitting at a small table and absentmindedly flicking a lighter on and off was just the man you were hoping to see. Reiju had not led you astray with her directions. The man, Vinsmoke Sanji, looked startled at your sudden intrusion and was staring at you questioningly.

Oh. In your haste to confirm that this was, in fact, his room, it had slipped your mind to knock and you had just let yourself in. How unlike you.

“Can… Can I help you, miss?” Sanji removed the smoked down nub of a cigarette from his mouth and snubbed it out in a shockingly full ashtray before reaching for the cigarette pack on the table. His exposed eye kept darting back to you while waiting for an answer.

Ah. So he did not recognize you… This fact pained you, but it wasn’t wholly surprising. It has been a very long time since your last meeting. You swallow thickly and step the rest of the way into his room before closing the door behind you, “Please forgive me for barging into your accommodation. I was so overcome with emotion that I forgot my manners.”

Sanji offered a small, but noticeably forced smile, “No need to apologize. I would never complain over being sought out by such a lovely woman. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“We have.” You inch closer to him while wringing your hands nervously. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain that it had nothing to do with your previous exertion. “Though I do not blame you for not recognizing me. The last time that I was in your company, we were mere children sneaking into a kitchen to prepare a lunch for your dear mother.”

The fresh cigarette that was dangling from Sanji’s lips falls onto the table as he stares at you with a wide eye. He is momentarily slack jawed before he finds it in himself to whisper out your name.

A genuine smile spreads across your face as you see the recognition in his eyes. “Yes, Sanji. It’s me, (Y/N).”

In an instant, Sanji is up and out of his seat. He stumbles a bit from tripping over the leg of the table, then comes to a halt in front of you. His hands reach forward, then pause, unsure of whether or not he should touch you. You take the decision out of his hands and quickly close the gap. Your arms wrap around his middle in a tight hug, which he returns after only a brief moment of hesitation.

The harsh and overpowering scent of tobacco stings at your nose as you rest your face on his shoulder, but you wouldn’t dare complain over something so trivial. Not when you were experiencing such a foreign rush of joy and relief.

With much reluctance, you force yourself to pull away first. Sanji held you a beat longer, but acquiesced to your action. His hands traced up and settled on your shoulders. The baby blue eye that wasn’t obscured flitted across your face, seemingly taking in every detail.

“I can’t believe it’s really you… I never thought I would see you again,” Sanji speaks to you in a hushed reverence that encourages your heart to feel ways that you know very well that it should not be given the current circumstances.

Your own hands are settled on his waist, not quite wanting to sever the physical connection. You offer him a half-hearted smile, “I could say the same for you. Prior to the last week, I believed you to be dead.” Your gloved hands clutch at his shirt, no doubt wrinkling it. A rude action, truly, but the only thing restraining you from cradling his face like you so desire. “I cannot quite put into words how relieving it is to see you alive and well.”

Sanji purses his lips and breaks the eye contact between you. He releases your shoulders and steps back, prompting you to relinquish your hold on him as well. It takes everything you have to not match every step he takes with one of your own. He heaves a sigh while reaching for his dropped cigarette, “I’m sorry. If there had been a way for me to let you know that I was okay, I would have done that in a heartbeat.”

“Oh, no!” The words come out so strongly and with so much force that it startles even you. You take a breath, then continue at a much calmer tone, “Please don’t misunderstand. I am not begrudging you for this. There are certainly people to blame, but you are not amongst them.”

A small smile is the reward for your clarification. Sanji flicks his lighter to life to ignite his cigarette. He takes a long drag of it, then exhales it. “Thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Hush, I am not. Dare I say, you could benefit from more kindness.” Everyone could, but you did not care about everyone right now.

Sanji chuckles, though it’s distinctly lacking any real humor. “You haven’t changed a bit since we were kids. I don’t know how you’ve done it.”

The silence that fell over you as he puffed away at his cigarette was neither comfortable, nor tense. So many things were left unsaid, and Sanji appeared to be content to leave it that way. You itched to ask him countless questions. How did he escape Germa? Where has he been this whole time? What was it like being part of such a notorious pirate crew? With so many queries running through your mind, it felt impossible to choose just one.

“What are you doing on Whole Cake Island, anyway? I didn’t think your family was close enough with Big Mom to be invited to a wedding.”

In an instant, your heart leaps up into your throat and you balk. This was precisely the topic you had hoped to avoid. Both for your own comfort, as well as his own. Ignorance is bliss, and you wanted him to know peace.

Unfortunately, your silence successfully attracts his attention. He turns to face you fully, and you can feel his eye boring into you despite the fact that you’re staring at the floor. “(Y/N)... Why are you here?” The thinly veiled urgency in his voice indicated that he was already coming to his own conclusions.

“I’m… here with my fiance,” the volume of your voice decrescendos with each word until ‘fiance’ comes out at a barely audible whisper.

It is unclear at first if the silence that followed was brought on by shock, or if Sanji simply hadn’t heard you. You get your answer shortly when he asks a quick and straightforward question.

“Who?”

Answering this was significantly more trying than explaining why you were here. You still couldn’t meet his eye, and you were grateful that he wasn’t forcing you to. There was no way to dance around or sugarcoat who it was. As much as you knew that he wouldn’t like the truth, he deserved to hear it.

“Niji.”

From your peripheral vision, you could see his cigarette hit the floor. Before you could be alarmed about the rug catching to fire, it was snuffed out under Sanji’s foot as he rapidly closed the gap that he had once made. His hands find purchase on your shoulders again, though he’s far less gentle this time. If it weren’t for the ironclad grip he had on you, you’re certain that you would have toppled over from the strength he took hold of you with. You’re forced to look up at him and take in his expression. The eye that you can see is wide with a shrunken pupil. The color in his skin has paled noticeably, and his mouth hangs open as his breath comes out in frantic pants.

His hands tighten around your shoulders more as he spits out an accusation laden in desperation, “You’re lying.”

Oh, how you wish you were. How you wish that there wasn’t an engagement ring weighing down your ring finger. But that simply isn’t reality. You hold up your left hand, actively ignoring the way it trembled under the intensity of Sanji’s gaze. His eye zeros in on the gleaming, blue jewel that was the centerpiece of your ring.

The sight of it repelled him. You were released from his touch once more as he backed away until he crashed into the table, effectively tipping it over and sending it crashing to the ground. The ashtray that had been sitting on it flew and rolled across the floor, spreading cigarette butts and ash everywhere, but Sanji paid it no mind.

“No… no, no, no! You can’t be serious! Niji?!” His raised voice startled you. While you had been anticipating a poor reaction, this was far worse than you ever would have guessed. His hands shot up and threaded through his hair. The way that he pulled on it had to be painful, and you held out your hand to try and coax him into letting go, but then he evaded you by beginning to pace. His steps were quick and forceful, the soles of his shoes making more noise than your heels had made when you were running to get here.

As much as you wanted to speak, it was beyond you what there even was to say that would soothe him.

Sanji abruptly spun around to face you again, making you flinch. He all but ran to you and took your hands in his, pulling you towards him so hard that you almost crashed into him. He speaks in a frantic but hushed tone, “You need to leave.”

“I… I beg your pardon?”

“You need to leave now. It isn’t safe for you to stay here.” His head snaps to the side and he lets go of your hand briefly to slam the window shut before grasping it again. “I need you to listen to me. My cr- My former crew is here. They will be more than happy to take you away and keep you safe. I’m not sure how I’ll get you to them yet, but I promise you that I won’t rest until you’re under their protection.”

All that you can do is stare at him. Your heart is thudding in your chest, but an undeniable warmth is spreading through it as well. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that this could happen. You squeeze his hands and speak breathlessly, “You wish to run away together?”

Sanji freezes at your words. His mouth opens and closes several times, and then he averts his eyes, “I can’t do that. This is just for you.”

You rip your hands away from his and step away. “What? What are you talking about?”

The way he looks at you as if you’re clueless infuriates you. He speaks slowly as he explains himself, “I’m getting married to Pudding. I’m sure that you know that.”

This explanation leaves you appalled, you all but shriek at him, “You’re actually going through with that?!” The entire reason that you were so desperate to have this meeting in the first place was because you had assumed that he would leave with his crew before the wedding could occur.

Your shouting startles Sanji, giving him a quick moment of pause. He clears his throat before doing his best to speak in a calm and assertive tone. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I? Our marriage will be a good thing.”

Hearing him say this breaks you. All grace and decorum is forgotten in your outburst. “A good thing?! Nothing good can come from marrying someone like Pudding!”

While you generally tried to be kind and gracious to everyone, you were unable to grant Pudding the same courtesy. Not after you became privy to her true feelings towards Sanji when you overheard a conversation between her and a few of her siblings. The way she spoke of Sanji was as maddening as it was sickening. It took all of your self control to not burst into the room and demand that she trade her fiance for your own if she disliked him so much.

Maybe you should have.

“Pudding is a lovely woman… And the marriage is good for political reasons as well.” Sanji was refusing to meet your enraged gaze, which only fueled the fire within you.

A sarcastic bark of laughter escaped you. “A lovely woman?! She’s a spoiled brat who doesn’t understand how fortunate she is!” That girl had everything that a woman could hope for in a political marriage, and she had the audacity to look down on her betrothed as if he wasn’t worthy of so much as breathing the same air as her.

When Sanji only stared at you with a shocked expression, it made all of the hideous emotions that you had been suppressing up to this point bubble to the surface and boil over.

“That girl has it all, and she can’t even be grateful for it! She won’t have to put up with her husband lusting over everyone but her! She won’t have to be little more than a mere obligation to her husband! She won’t just be used to bring about a new generation of living weapons!”

You fall silent as the words settle into the air, thickening the atmosphere until it became difficult to breathe. Hot tears begin to pour down your face in a shameful display. You turn away from Sanji as raw, pained sobs wrack through you.

“(Y/N)...”

Sanji stepped towards you and rested a hand on your shoulder, but you ripped away from him as if his touch burned you. The last thing that you wanted was his pity. You hastily dabbed at your eyes with a handkerchief as you hurried to the door, but Sanji put himself between you and the exit.

“Please, (Y/N)... I know you don’t like it, but you need to leave without me. You have no idea how much danger you’ll be in if you stay.” His face and tone are equally pleading. His hands reach towards you once more, but halt just before making contact.

“I am many things, but please don’t think me naive, Sanji… I know precisely what is expected of me in my marriage.” Every word out of your mouth is bitter and laced with contempt.

“Then why are you being so stubborn? I know that you don’t want this.” Sanji is visibly exasperated.

“The better question is: Why are you being so stubborn? You are not compelled to do this like I am! You have an entire crew that is willing to fight for you, yet you’re refusing their help!” You exhale and shake your head, “You are almost as ungrateful as Pudding, perhaps you two are meant to be after all.”

“This is not as simple and straightforward as you think it is. There is much more going on… It’s better for everyone if I go through with this.”

Your hands ball up into fists at your sides and you snap at him, “Oh, what a martyr you are! How brave! How proud!” Having finally had enough, you fully abandon etiquette and shove Sanji out of your way. You grasp the doorknob, but rather than leaving, you decide that you have one last sentiment to tack on. “Martyrdom is the coward’s choice! If you really care for the people in your life, you will fight to be with them, not sacrifice yourself at the first opportunity!”

With that, you wrench open the door and slam it behind you the second you’re out of the room. You take off down the hall with no clear destination, only desiring to put as much distance between yourself and Sanji as reasonably possible.

Despite what you had said, you realize that you were actually quite naive. It was foolish to have ever believed that this meeting would have gone any better than it did.

#yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #yandere #princess carnation au #one piece

111 notes · View notes

citrus-simp · 2 years ago

Text

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1

Warnings: language, Katsuki is basically cold and mean here. Katsuki is 23 here and reader is 22

note: just be aware this series will end up being 18+ this chapter won’t be so much because it’s simply the first chapter! Your have been warned!!

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

“Alright that patches things up! Now stay off of your foot this time!” You scold the knight as you stand from your seat. You had once again tended and patched up more than 20 soldiers from their last battle. Your kingdom had unfortunately been in the most of a battle between a neighboring kingdom to the south. Once their ruler had found the richness of the land and it’s properties he wanted it for his own. Now he would send invasions to weaken your kingdom until it was his for the taking.

Not only did you have strong warriors but you also had an amazing medical team. Your kingdom made sure to prioritize the education of medical procedures and techniques. You happened to be one of the top performing healers in the castle. In fact you were also the princess and heir to the thrown. You had shown much promise to your father and advisors. Typically wanting a male heir you showed much more potential and promise than any that came before you.

“You get it from your mother” you father would always comment whenever you were praised for strategic action. In fact you were sometimes called the perfect princess. Intelligent, kind, strong and ever so beautiful. However, you were very stubborn and set on not fixing a suitor. You felt It was simply a waste of time and a position where you would end up only being a trophy wife. You felt much better in the most of the action rather than the sidelines.

“Your highness, the king has requested your presence” a young lady in waiting had informed you

“Hm, it must be about the last invasion. Please tend to these men and make sure they’re given the herbs that are needed” you order before taking your leave. Walking up the steps into the main hall and taking a left into the throne room, you find your father.

“Ah Y/N, come sit my princess, we have something important to discuss” he said patting your own throne seat next to his. You walk over and take your seat but still face him. Usually you’d sit properly in front of your subjects and anyone else in the room but it was just you both this time! Your favorite! You just felt like father and daughter. No titles, no burdens or responsibilities.

"Now, because of this war some things have surfaced between us and our neighboring kingdom to the north. I won’t stretch out the truth and tell you straight away” he says with a pause “….You will marry within a month. For the remaining time you will spend with Katsuki in the Bakugou kingdom"

"WHAT? FATHER YOU CANT-“

"The decision has been made, and finalize the two of the truth, and will be married after two weeks of kingdoms will join into one. This will not only bring peace between our kingdoms, but it is in the war with Neighboring kingdom." He cut you off.

You guess there was no fighting this. You, an independent and intelligent princess betrothed to the infamous prince Katsuki Bakugou, the dragon prince. Now known as your soon to be husband and king.

Sure you knew that as a princess, you would be betrothed at some point in your life but him of all royalty? He was known for being ruthless mean and cold some would even say barbaric. However, with the war, a hand any possible, step ahead should be taken once it appears. If it meant that your kingdom and your father would be saved, then you were willing to marry and join the kingdoms.

“father...please don't make me.." you tried to plead in a last attempt. Maybe, just maybe there was a second option. Your father loves you more than anything. But this war was taking a toll on recourses, soldiers and the last thing he needed was to also loose you. The Bakugou kingdom was strong no doubt and uniting may be the only way to keep you safe. Combining your kingdoms talent with medical and health skills with their strategic fighting may finally put things to rest.

"Y/N, you will be fine. I'll make you a deal. If at any moment you feel your life is truly threatened and you are facing life or death, I will call this off completely." He said, trying to alleviate some of the stress of the situation.

And it was enough for you.

“Deal. But I still will not enjoy this. If you expect me to fall in love with him, then you're wrong."

~~~

"Katsuki. This is not up for discussion. They are not only our neighboring kingdom they are also a valuable Ally not to mention the princess is very beautiful, patient and intelligent." His mother, the queen inquired

"Like I give a damn about all that bullshit. I do just fine on my own" said prince crossing his arms “I don't need a damn bride to make anything better”

" complain all you want, but in two days time she will be here in our kingdom. Spend the next week with you before the wedding" she spat back. Funny enough whoever met the queen was convinced that she ran the kingdom and not her husband.

"Whatever you old hag" Bakugou brushed her off as he left the throne room

“Prepare yourself Katsuki! You have to grow out of that mentality to run this kingdom...and clean your damn room! No woman wants to see that!" She sighs as she watches her son walk out of the throne room. His signature scowl and fiery eyes making anyone in the halls move aside.

Opening the door to his bedroom he slams it shut and flips on to his bed. He crossed his arms behind his head as he stared into the ceiling.

“Tch. Damn war and contracts.” He muttered to himself. Just then there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer it opens and in comes a young man around the same age with bright red hair.

“Hey Bakugou! Heard about the engagement, you must be excited” he said closing the door

“If you call wanting to give up my title so I don’t have to marry excited. sure I am excited” he answers sitting up “don’t know why I had to get wrapped up in this shit. They can just crown me, give me the kingdom and I’ll end this war in one blow.” He said standing from his bed “let’s go spar i gotta blow off steam”

Kirishima was his play mate in the castle as a child who eventually became part of the guard. They now spar, hunt, or just plainly hang out together. he will never admit it, Kirishima was more of a friend than castle staff to him.

As the two young males spar together they exchange conversation and comments among each other. Their swords clashing in clinging every now and then followed by grunts or curses. Both were very skilled fighters and were known for their strength.

“Come on man *clang* it can’t be- woah! That bad” he comments as he doges a swing of his sword and a punch “I mean I think everyone at some point thinks about finding someone to spend your life with”

“ yeah, that’s everyone else, Shity Hair, not me! AH!” He shouts as swings his sword to have Kirishima duck and and knock him off his feet

“You gotta stop call me that man, we both basically have the same hair” he said from the ground lookin up at the prince.

“Yeah whatever, get your ass up” he said reaching his hand out for him to take. Bakugou has always had things done on his own without help. If his parents would allow him he’d go into battle and show everyone just how capable he was without a title, wife or anything.

“Hopefully she’ll hate this idea as much as I do” he said dusting himself off “then I can just send her off to where she came from. Heh or maybe even just keep her around to entertain me”

“Well yeah i guess, but doesn’t that seem a bit cruel?” Kirishima commented

“And? I just need her out of the way.”

“And what if she goes through all of that and ends up staying? What are you gonna do then?” He questioned his plan making the young man think

“I doubt she’ll get there but if she does, I could really care less if she stays or leaves. Let’s go eat I’m starving”

Kirishima simply shook his head and followed the young man inside to the dining hall.

~~~ the next day~~~

You gaze out of the carriage as you were on your way to the Bakugou kingdom. You honestly didn’t feel like it was happening. Like an out of body experience. Maybe your body was on autopilot because of the huge shift. You just stared out into the sky thinking of what you could have been doing instead.

Instead of packing all your clothes, and books. Instead of reading the garden under the large oak tree. Instead of helping people in the medical area of the castle. Instead you were here on your way to be married off.

The ride to their kingdom would take about one day and one night. You had left the night before so you’ll probably be there by nightfall of the day. Your father would actually spend those few days with you so he’s able to attend to wedding. You were happy for that part at least. As you stared blankly at the sky you hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep. The motion of the carriage and the sound of hooves dancing on the ground had put you right to sleep.

Once you had gotten there you peeked from the vehicle and saw the king, Queen and prince standing in front of the castle entrance. The prince seemed at have said something that earned him a smack tot he head from his mother. Your father helped you out of the carriage as you were both announced.

“Please welcome the arrival of Y/L/N kingdom!” You and your father walked arm in arm up the steps and were welcomed by the king and queen.

“Welcome to our kingdom King (name) and of course princess Y/N” the queen said taking a quick bow. You and your father reciprocate the same action and thank her for her welcome. “Come inside, nightfall is near and usually the cold settles in more” she said moving out of the way to welcome you both into the large and impressive castle.”

As he walked by and take a quick glance at the prince and see his cold scowl. Aside from his attitude portrayed on his face, you could see that he was indeed, very attractive. He had a strong build in a very handsome face with wild and explosive looking hair. He also had deep, bright red eyes. They almost look like rubies.

However all that beauty goes to waste when he scans you up and down and gives you a scoff. His father pushed him towards you urging him to play his role as the crowned prince of the kingdom. Rolling his eyes he takes your hand and raises it to kiss the back of your hand with a groan. Contrast of his cold demeanor, and his warm, soft kiss honestly confused you. Maybe other princesses with you by his actions, but you felt the hypocrisy behind it.

You follow behind the royals as they lead you into the dinning hall to enjoy a dinner together. You say next to your father and across the table we’re the royal family. His parents seemed delighted and almost relived you were there. Bakugou looked like he’s rather be doing anything else.

“Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about your studies you do for you kingdom” the queen complimented trying to break the awkward silence

“Oh you better believe every word,” you father answered “if I had ti admit she’s the backbone of our kingdom and why we keep fighting back” he said ruffling your hair

“Yeah right” Katsuki mumbled under his breath

“Well your majesty, i knew our soldiers not needed not only the best medical attention but also medical attention in numbers. Giving that we have a sizable amount of young men I had taken women from our village, gave them education and had them work beside me.” You explain as a fire back to the princes remark

“Fascinating,” she said leaning on her hand

“Not only do we benefit from it, those in the village do as well. Mortality rate has dropped, those in poor areas can now afford food and shelter due to their jobs with us, and of course we help one another to survive” you elaborate more

“She’s quit nice son, why don’t you give it a shot” his father whispered nudging his son only making the prince roll his eyes

“Gorgeous, intelligent, and talented! You really are a rare treasure princess.” She complimented you once again “anyway! You must both be exhausted from the long journey. Please show them to their rooms” the queen called for the staff to assist you to your rooms for the time being.

As tradition is, you all now to one another and they all wished you a good nights rest. After settling in to your room, you change into something comfortable and look out of the window. It was late summer and you could feel the chill of Autumn coming through the glass. You had a beautiful view of their village and all the little lights on. Looking upwards you see a candle in the window of none other than the prince. He had gone to turn out the candle when he spotted you.

You both just stared at one another for a moment. As if trying to communicate some kind of message from the distance. He simply raised the candle near his face and blew out the flame. Instead you took your candle and placed it on the bed side. You watch as the flame danced freely on the wick of the candle. Freely flickering and dancing and waving as she pleased.

I’m ways your wishes to be that same candle. Dancing within your own world, to your path…and no one else’s…you feel your eyes flutter shut as the hypnotic flame pulls you into sleep for the night.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Taglist 🐉: @aikugo @outcast-thingz @sad0ni0n @sageyrage @cathwritestragediesnotsins @scarsofbeauty

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha fantasy au #dragon king bakugou #king bakugou x reader #anime #bnha x fem!reader #to tame the dragon #original by sweets #by mama sweets #anime x reader #bnha

240 notes · View notes

fixomnia-scribble · 6 months ago

Note

Please would you share a snippet of 'My Fortress Be' with us for WIP Wednesday? It would make my evening!

Happy to oblige!

Under cut for anyone who doesn't want to be spoiled...though this *is* from a twelve year old episode!

“Hello, Reverend.”

“Good afternoon, Doctor! To what do I owe this visit? I hope nobody among us is poorly enough to need my presence?"

“No, thankfully. I’m calling on you to ask - what is the soonest date I could engage you for a wedding?” Patrick rattled off, all in a breath.

The Reverend blinked, remembered to whom he was speaking, and replied cautiously: “You know I am at your disposal, and there is generally a two to three month wait to book the Sanctuary, but this isn’t the busy season. Come with me and let’s consult the calendar.”

Clearly the good Reverend thought that Patrick was hoping to arrange a hasty wedding for a couple in trouble, and was prepared to ask a minimum of questions. Patrick followed him into the vestry office and stood in front of the desk, holding the brim of his hat in his hand rather like a schoolboy unsure of his reception in the Headmaster’s office.

The Reverend sat and pulled a ledger towards him. “Mrs. Cooley has not mentioned any new bookings, so I believe this is up to date. Please, sit down, Doctor, you make me anxious. I feel I’m about to be given bad news.”

Patrick sat in one of the leather-backed guest chairs, with a nervous chuckle. The Reverend glanced up.

“Why, man, you’re the anxious one. It can’t be for yourself you’re wanting a speedy wedding?”

“It is, Reverend,” he said. “Not for any other reason than we’d like a very simple wedding, and soon. The two of us and our witnesses, and Timothy.” He leaned forward in his chair. “We’re not a young couple. I’ve been married and widowed. My fiancee - she’s been independent for years, and is eager to start her new life. There’s my boy - our boy - to think of. Making the change with little fuss will be better for him.”

“I see. And while you are in good standing in this congregation - regardless of your attendance - and welcome to marry here, what of your betrothed? Is there some difficulty with her church? Her family? Is that part of your haste?”

“Her family are supportive but uninvolved, really. And she’s been a highly esteemed member of your flock for over ten years. Though you may have missed her recently. I know I did.”

The Reverend blinked again. Then his brow cleared. “Dr. Turner, I admit that I’ve heard idle stories, but are you telling me there is truth to them? That Sister Bernadette’s decision to leave the Order was connected with yourself? And this is the result?”

Patrick felt his heart thumping as if he was guilty somehow. He wished Shelagh was here with him, not wanting to speak for her in her absence. But he knew their story, as deeply as anyone could, and that let him look the Reverend straight in the face and explain.

“It certainly didn't begin that way. Shelagh was - she’d been struggling with her vocation for some time. We’d worked together for many years. We began speaking more freely, becoming friendly, and that was all. It wasn’t until this past summer that we realized we’d fallen in love. We couldn't speak of it. I believe we were at an impasse. I don’t know what might have happened. And then she contracted tuberculosis and was sent off for treatment. But now she’s home, and our future is together.”

“And it was while she was away that she came to her decision,” the Reverend intuited, sitting back. “Yes, I see. Such an intimation of mortality to have come through. But let me ask you this, Doctor: don’t you think your marriage ought to be celebrated with others? You are not without friends, and support, either of you. You are doing nothing wrong.”

“She’s keen to have a small, quiet wedding. Tongues will wag anyway - they always do in Poplar. Unkind things have already been said about her. But she doesn't want to upset the Sisters, either, with a public display.”

“She never did like to be at the center of attention,” the Reverend agreed. “And I do see it would not be good for her to linger in an unknown status for long.”

Patrick let out a breath. “Yes. That’s the kernel of it.”

The Reverend removed his folded hands from the ledger and opened it up. Scanning down the page with a finger, he nodded. “It’s unusual, but since it’s to be a small ceremony, what would you say to slipping it in between the Christmas Eve services? The halls will be decked and garlanded for the holiday. You’ll even hear the choir keeping their voices warmed up.”

“Reverend! I’d never have thought of it. She’d love that. It wouldn’t be a terrible imposition, on a night like that?”

“Not at all. I’ll be walking around trying to keep warmed up between services, too. Absent any frills and fripperies, the whole ceremony runs about twenty minutes. I do have one suggestion, but it is only that.”

“Yes?”

“In the normal course of things, I strongly recommend that all engaged couples come for the usual pre-marriage discussions with myself and other married couples from the church. Given Sister - I beg your pardon, Doctor, but what shall I call her now? I am not privy to the worldly names of the Sisters."

"Her name is Shelagh Mannion. For the present."

They shared a smile, and Patrick felt excitement taking over from trepidation. This was real. And the Reverend was on their side, whatever the shrewish gossips of Poplar had to say.

"How lovely. Given Miss Mannion’s history here, I would understand if she’d rather not take part in these discussions. And you yourself have years of experience with a happy marriage and family. But please tell Miss Mannion that I don’t consider her a stranger or a lost sheep, and that I am here to offer what counsel I can, as any other bride preparing for marriage, in the days until then.”

“Sixteen days,” Patrick said, rather dazed.

The Reverend stood and turned about to unlock the tall cabinet behind and to the side of the desk. He pulled out a familiar bottle and two small glasses, and turned back. He looked at Patrick and raised an eyebrow.

"You look as if you could use it."

"Thank you, Reverend. Yes, I believe I could."

#call the midwife #turnadette #patrick turner #shelagh turner #wip wednesday #work in progress

10 notes · View notes

makesometime · 1 year ago

Text

I had a request from @indoodlingmadness and @skeletonxqueen to write a sequel to my hair-braiding Tav/Astarion fic in which Astarion actually proposes.

I mostly managed that, I think. This is just a quick little fun thing, which I hope you both like.

(G-rated, ~800 words, named female drow Tav, more hair braiding and mistaken proposals, eventually fixed)

It's only been a couple of hours when Diina walks back into their house, the traitorous book tucked back in its place on the bookcase. She calls out a happy greeting on her way to the kitchen and he does his best to return it without any sort of hesitation.

Dagger's mew from his shoulder tells him he probably failed.

“Yes yes.” He sighs, scratching the top of their head. “Point well made.”

Eventually, Diina finishes her chores and finds her way to rest in his doorway, arms crossed over her chest in a familiar stance that makes Astarion feel oddly nostalgic.

Until he realises she's looking at him the way she used to look at bullshitters on their travels through Faerûn.

“Tell me.” She starts, and he feels his stomach drop. No conversation that starts that way will ever be good. “Why the sweet old woman who runs the vegetable stall congratulated me on my betrothal, much to my confusion?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but she holds up a hand. His mouth snaps shut, and she can’t hide the wicked smirk she gets at his easy obedience.

“And the leather goods hawker, though he was a smug little git about it. The baker too, though they were at least apologetic when I didn't respond with anything other than a scowl.”

“Well, darling. You see….” He murmurs, trying to find some… poise for his response. She raises an eyebrow, and he can feel himself deflate. “I wasn't lying when I told you I didn't know what the pattern meant.”

Diina smiles, a soft, tender thing. She walks closer to the desk. “I didn't think you were, you silly man.”

Astarion huffs, sitting back and getting several little cat claws in his shoulder for his troubles. Of course the cat is taking her side. Traitorous little swine.

“Forgive me for asking but… are you upset?”

She gives a little sigh, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and then walking around the desk to push up onto it, her feet swinging freely. “Of course not. I just thought it would be funny to tease you about it.”

“Mm, yes, very funny. See how I laugh.”

Diina scoffs as he can’t quite keep his face straight, reaching out to snatch up his hand and pull it to her heart. “I’m not opposed to the idea of marrying you, my love. I did however think we might have a little more time to get to know each other without the fate of Faerûn hanging over our heads.”

He flexes his fingers within her grip, just to test it, to see what she does. When she slips their fingers together, knitting their palms together as tight as they may do on the day of their eventual union, Astarion smiles.

“Very astute, darling.” He says. “I promise to read up on my elven braiding patterns, lest I communicate something quite unfortunate to the entirety of the Lower City one day.”

“Feel free to make up your own. It could be our own little language. How thrilling it’d be to see people try and figure out what it says when it’s just talking about how delicious my blood is.”

“Just, she says.” Astarion chuckles. “As if such a thing could ever be summed up in a simple braid.”

Diina sits with him for a long while, telling him stories from her errands and holding his hand until Dagger starts to climb down the length of his arm. She catches the sweet little thing up and kisses their head, hopping down to do the same thing to Astarion.

“I’ll be in the garden if you need me.”

He struggles to find his concentration, after that. His mind is filled with all sorts of fanciful thoughts, imagining getting to spend the rest of his days, the rest of time with Diina at his side. It’s a good thing being with her tempers his worst urges - he’d propose tomorrow, if he didn’t know better. If he didn’t know that it’ll be worth so much more if they wait.

Patience, it seems, will be a virtue - much though he might hate it. At least he’ll get to practice his skills so that when the time comes, he can do them perfectly.

(The right time, it turns out, is a few years later, Diina sleepily rubbing her eyes as he plaits the same betrothal braids back into place on her head with fingers that shake with anticipation. She turns her head to admire his work after, her gasp of realisation a pretty noise that he’ll carry with him forever. His choice to surprise her feels both corny and foolish right up until she turns to him with tears in her eyes, nodding with such ferocity that he worries about her neck. From that point on, it feels like the best decision he’s ever made.)

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction

23 notes · View notes

casspurrjoybell-28 · 1 year ago

Text

The Alpha's Addiction - Chapter 27b

*Warning Adult Content*

Betrothed - Part 2 - Koa

Morgan and I sit on the porch of the Packhouse, watching Cyrus play with Oliver in the grass.

They've been playing some sort of game of tag that Cyrus keeps letting my son win.

I chuckle as Oliver rolls in the grass, howling before Cyrus picks him up, slinging him playfully over his shoulder.

Oliver squeals in laughter while he kicks his legs and my heart fills with tenderness.

He's so happy with him.

They really could be mistaken for father and son.

"You're falling for him, aren't you?"

I turn to Morgan in shock, my mouth gaping.

"Excuse me?"

He smirks, teeth flashing deviously.

"So you are."

"What makes you so sure?" I retort with a scoff of disbelief, though I feel my face flush.

He pokes me in the shoulder teasingly.

"By the way you're been looking at him, hun."

"And just how am I looking at him?"

"Like you simultaneously want to kiss his face off and ride him."

"Morgan," I gasp, sitting forward in my chair and sending him an alarmed look.

He bursts out laughing.

"Oh, we're adults here. Don't tell me you don't want to get a little naughty with that absolute hunk of a man."

I curl my hands in my lap, realizing I can't exactly deny that accusation.

Not after what I let Cyrus do to me in the woods.

At my silence, Morgan's eyes widen.

"Wait, did you guys fuck?"

My jaw drops for the second time.

I would've never imagined this kind of vernacular coming out of the beta's mouth when I first met him.

"We didn't," I quickly counter.

"It sure seems like you did. Now that I think about it, Cyrus's been staring at you like he's... like he's damn near starving, all day."

I groan in embarrassment, putting my heads into my hands.

"Okay, we did.. stuff. But not all the way. I wasn't ready."

In more ways than one.

Don't get me wrong, it felt crazy good.

Out of this world good.

But aside from the fear of an Alpha penetrating me... I also got a heavy sense of guilt afterward.

I was never taught that Omegas should or even could feel pleasure during sex.

Our only role... wolves in my old pack told me... was to make sure an Alpha was satisfied.

My own comfort didn't matter.

So actually having an orgasm for the first time in my life came with a feeling of wrongness.

Like it was unnatural, even... dirty, that I let loose and begged for pleasure like that.

An alpha was serving me and not the other way around.

He was giving and I was taking.

It's pretty hard to get used to that, when every single sexual experience in my life up until now was painful and forced upon me and never centered around my own enjoyment.

"Go at your own pace," Morgan pats my shoulder.

"Xavier and I certainly haven't jumped straight into it."

I whip my head to look at him.

"Wait... but you've done... things?" my voice goes up in pitch at the end and I feel childish for avoiding saying any sexual words.

Morgan grins, mostly to himself as he twirls a strand of his white gold hair.

"I may have... sucked him off outside the tavern the other night."

I put my hands over my mouth.

"You naughty little..." I start to exclaim but then I hear Oliver's voice calling out for me.

"Mama... Mama..." he yells, and I look up to see him running naked towards me.

Morgan snorts in laughter and I frown in confusion.

My eyes widen in realization, taking in the scraps of his clothes hanging off his shoulders and ankles, a sure sign that what he says is truth.

He scrunches his face in concentration, closing his eyes as he attempts to will his wolf to the surface again but nothing happens.

He tries again, clenching his fists with effort but to no avail.

He lets out a huff, shoulders dropping.

"I swear, Mama. Cyrus saw. He was helping me to do it."

I should be happy. I mean, I am happy.

Oliver's growing up, as he should be.

But the problem is my baby shifted for the first time and I didn't get to see it.

I always thought that would be a special moment we'd share together.

I can't bring myself to look at Cyrus as he walks over.

Why am I being so insecure and petty?

It doesn't matter if someone else helped it happen.

Cyrus is an Alpha, after all, with much more shifting experience than me.

My advice to Oliver never worked.

"Mama, I'm cold," Oliver whines, shivering from being bare.

Cyrus chuckles, pulling off his jacket and draping it over my boy's shoulders.

When we turn in after a hefty session of congratulating my son, Oliver walking ahead with Morgan to the dining hall, I feel Cyrus's rough hand enclose around my own.

"Koa. Are you okay?"

I shrug.

"I'm fine," but I don't meet his gaze.

How is he always able to tell when something is off with me?

"Did you perhaps... see, er, did you see me talking to someone?"

I raise an eyebrow.

"What? No."

"Oh, well... if you did, I'd like you to know that it's strictly out of courtesy..."

"Cyrus, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm going inside."

I brush him off coldly, heading after the other two.

My wolf scolds me with a rough bark.. annoyed that we're turning our mate away like this.

Like we always do.

But what he doesn't realize is that I want to change myself even more than he does.

I want to be different.

2 notes · View notes

targcrazies · 2 years ago

Text

The Longstanding Wisdom of the Old CH4

Summary: It is 104 AC, a year since King Viserys ascended the Iron Throne. His younger brother, Prince Daemon, has just been widowed. Seeing an opportunity to build a profitable alliance, Lord Bartalos of the Reach, one of the few High Valyrian lords residing in Westeros, has proposed marriage of the Prince to Maera Bartalos, his older daughter. His son and heir to Highgarden, Myles Bartalos, is to join the City Watch.

Maera looked at Myles’s face. His beautiful white face had gone pale, his round, lilac eyes staring at the Prince agape. In three years, it was the first time someone had confronted them regarding their discreet relationship. They had always basked in the knowledge that both of them were skilled at being furtive and no one would ever find out. How wrong they were, she thought, he probably saw right through it, his parents were siblings who were deeply in love and had married. It is not taboo to him, it is not a concept foreign, especially with two Valyrian siblings so very close.

“I really thought you were as innocent and “proper” as you led on, Lady Bartalos,” the Prince mused, “I’d not have believed it if I hadn't heard the… obscene noises with my own ears.” He pulled out a chair for him to sit upon, he sat with the hilt of the sword toward him, resting his chin onto his hands holding the sword. He looked at them, leering in triumph, the glint in his eyes strengthening with every passing second. “Might you wish to say something?”

Myles stood frozen at the spot, Maera took a few steps forward toward the Prince. “What do you want?” she finally spoke in question.

“What do I want?” he laughed, “I want absolutely nothing,” he proclaimed, “nothing at all. Nothing more than to see your Father dragged through the mud. That is all I want, my Lady.”

“Do you still bear him hate for what happened years ago, your Grace?” Maera asked, “You must understand, the situations were different. My brother had just been betrothed to Rhaenys Targaryen’s daughter. It is not unusual for one to support their ally.”

“And you want me to believe that he won’t always value that one alliance over any he might form with us?” Daemon sat up straight, “His son, his heir, is to wed the only daughter of Corlys Velaryon. Do you know who his heir shall marry one day?”

Maera did not have the answer to this, she stared at the Prince in hopes that she would not have to toil her mind away in pointless conjectures. “Princess Rhaenyra…” she heard her brother mutter behind her, turning around to face him as she held her ground.

“You are smarter than you let on, Ser Bartalos. Everyone plays charades here, I see, you two the most!” The Prince mused, leering at them.

“So you claim that if another succession crisis were to arise, given the Queen bears no sons, my Father would vouch for the Princess instead of you given my brother shall be the brother-in-law of the supposed King Consort?”

“Precisely,” the Prince said, “Your father is a true dragon, my Lady. He will ensure that he has made the most advantageous alliances. He wants to wed us to ensure power if I were to become King, and your brother to Laena if Rhaenyra inherits the throne. However, Rhaenyra stands little chance of inheriting the throne, as precedence has already been set regarding female heirs. Yet, if a crisis were to arise at all, he will call for the Velaryons.”

“Your judgment is based upon baseless presumption, your Grace,” Maera spat, “If my Father was really making alliances as you mention, then why not proposition my brother’s betrothal with the Princess?”

“Because, my father wants to carry on the lineage through our children. If I were to marry the Princess, it’d likely be a matrilineal marriage as she is the King’s only child.” Myles spoke again.

Maera turned to look at him again, “Why did you not tell me all this before?” she calmly interjected, watching as he got to his feet.

“Your little brother has some sort of learning disability and has a clubfoot. He does not rely on the child to carry on legacies.” the Prince reasoned further.

Myles gripped the air as he muttered, “Why are you telling us all this?”

“Because, earlier I thought she was too daft and you were too brash to understand any of this.” the Prince said.

“What makes you think we are any different now, your Grace?” Myles asked, breaking out of his trance and stepping closer to the Prince.

The Prince smirked, his eyes fixated upon the door, “I kept watching you two, the whole day. Not for once was I able to tell that the both of you were carrying on your little liaison.” he admitted, “I had only come here to talk to Lady Bartalos, I would have even let her summon her maid if needed.”

“What was so urgent that it could not wait until the morrow, your Grace?” Maera asked, folding her arms.

“It does not matter anymore,” he got up, making his way toward the door. He took out Myles’s slippers from within his cape, gesturing him to wear them, “Leaving these by the door is not exactly smart, now, is it? Ser Bartalos, you may wanna go back to your own chamber now. Lady Bartalos, I shall meet you at breakfast.”

Maera stepped in his way and looked him in the eyes, “Your Grace, I believe we can put our trust in you to not speak of this to anyone, especially our Father.”

He dug holes in her eyes, gazing back in fervour, “Not anytime soon, my Lady.”

“If you marry my sister,” Myles began, “I shall always be your ally, your Grace. I am to inherit my Father’s place and I shall make it so that we are on your side.”

Daemon laughed, “You’re shrewd, boy. Marrying off your lover to me, betraying your father-in-law’s faith. What else are you capable of doing, Ser?”

“Your Grace, I know exactly what I want.” Myles affirmed.

“And what if Corlys Velaryon demanded you swear fealty to his and his heir’s interests?”

“Your Grace,” Myles smiled, “I would lie.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maera was awoken in the morning from what she wished was a horrid nightmare. However, she looked at the empty jar of wine on the table, and it all sprung back to her. They had dug themselves a grave, she thought, he knew such slanderous a secret that it could ruin them. She was made to put on a white gown by her mother, a gown bespoke of her chastity and innocence, traits much preferred by men when in search of a wife. Maera spoke little, begrudgingly picturing the grin his face may elicit when he would realise the symbolism behind her gown. Her mother let her hair flow freely, smelling of smokey essential oils. Her ears were adorned with pearls and her neck was left bare. She wished she could tell her mother to stop, that none of it was of any use. He would not marry her because he did not trust her father.

Her mother coated her lips and cheeks with a pink rouge, “You look beautiful, little one,” she touched her daughter’s chin affectionately, “The Prince would be foolish to not see it.” Maera wished she could tell her mother that he was not foolish, and his not being foolish was exactly what would lead to the betrothal falling through. She eyed the bottle of incense her mother had lightly dabbed onto the napes of her neck, her wrists, and her bosom. What if the Prince tells them, she thought, Mother was amenable, could be made to understand, she deduced, but Father was a faithful follower of the Seven and he would be livid.

“Mother, I would like to speak to you.” better hear it from me than anyone else, she thought.

“Oh dear, we have not much time, must we speak now?”

She opened her mouth to beg her mother for some time to speak, however, she realised that she could not speak of this without her brother’s approval, “No Mother, we may speak later.”

When her mother and she got to the Grand Hall, everyone was present at the table. She sat beside her brother, who was engaged in a conversation with Lord Velaryon. Their father listened closely and their mother enquired after the Prince. The Prince smiled at her, greeted her with a very good morning, and his eyes bore on her as she sipped on her morning tea. He watched her as she excused her maid from wanting to lay out food on her platter, taking in bread, butter, and a generous serving of lemon cake herself. His smile widened when he realised that Maera was not sparing her brother a single glance.

It was only after breakfast that Maera looked at her brother intently, who returned her gaze and acknowledged whatever unsaid was communicated. Myles walked up to the Prince, his head slightly bent as he cleared his throat quietly, “Your Grace, might you spare us a minute of your precious time, in the gardens?”

The Prince conceded, he looked at the boy, then his sister. He thought she looked lovely that morning, especially with her face slightly mired with conflict and worry. The Prince led the way out to the gardens. He walked in calculated drag, taking in the bright early morning, quietly sniggering at the hushed conversation between the siblings. He only stopped and turned to look at them when they reached exactly where he had met her barely a day before.

After a good few minutes of silent staring and exchanges of stolen glances, it was Maera who spoke up, “Your Grace, we are thankful that you chose not to disclose anything to our parents.”

“Secrets are better left festering, sometimes they brew into something… useful, if time and opportunity permit.” The Prince smiled at the siblings and was glad to see that they had picked up what he meant.

Maera took a step toward the Prince, “Your Grace, we can be so useful for you,” she began, “Our father may have varied interests now, but once we vouch for you and lay our support for you, he won’t be able to do otherwise.”

“Your brother is betrothed to Laena Velaryon, how is that beneficial to us?”

Maera looked at her brother, then at the Prince, “Can the betrothal not fall through?” she asked, “Somehow, anyhow.”

“That’d only happen if the Sea Snake and your father were to have a falling out, I’m afraid.” The Prince admitted.

“That’s a farfetched idea, Laena shan’t be ready for marriage in another four or five years.” Myles interjected.

“Myles, she is twelve, she shall bleed soon. What if you are compelled to marry her then?” Maera reasoned.

“And how will you support me if your brother marries the sister of the boy who could have stolen my brother’s crown?” The Prince enquired.

Maera looked at the Prince, her brow furrowed, “Do you only think of extraneous ways of evading the obvious to reach your objective?”

The Prince raised his eyebrows, “Go on.”

“We can feign oblivious support for them while navigating your ascent to the throne, and my brother can be beneficial here, yes.” she began, “We do not have to outwardly make lofty claims which may lead to their losing faith in us. We can gain their faith and blindside them, your Grace.”

“That’s cowardly, my Lady.” The Prince objected, “Why shall I have to play pretend to gain what is mine?”

“Because men like Lord Velaryon and my father exist.” She reasoned, “What they aim for is not their birthright, they aim for it because they desire it. Their ambition justifies removing any prospective deterrent, here, you are the probable deterrent here. If you were to loudly state your case, they’d be aware and they’d surely plan accordingly.”

“So you’re suggesting we play pretend?” The Prince asked, his voice etched with annoyance.

“No, your Grace, not at all.” she smiled, “I am suggesting we play smart.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The scent of roasted veal with honeyed wine wafted through the air as Maera dragged her long cape through to the dining hall. Her maids followed closely behind, failing to keep up with her swift feet and keeping in mind not to step on the fabric. She was the first to arrive at the table, soon followed by her mother who was busy overlooking the arrangement. Myles soon followed, rushing through with a young boy he had mercifully taken in as a ward.

The Prince had only smiled as she had kept on about the advantages of quietly gearing toward one’s goal instead of grand announcements. He excused himself when she was done with her oration, leaving with a giggle under his breath. She was embarrassed but was hopeful that despite amusement, the Prince saw sense in her arguments. The Sea Snake arrived first, closely followed by her father, to the announcement that the Prince had asked them to begin their meal and he would join them shortly but surely. Anyone who knew her father could pick up the slight scoff he let out beneath his breath, easily ignorable otherwise.

The Prince only arrived when they were halfway through their meals. The Sea Snake and her father were engrossed in a hearty conversation, her Mother tending to all their needs graciously. Maera and her brother felt more at ease being together amongst others after the mishap of the previous night. Now, little did they fear the Prince’s appearance. If anything, they had grown to somewhat anticipate it. He only walked in when she felt her heart quicken at the thought of the Prince’s impudent smile, not the one that was condescending, but the one that was… in acknowledgment of her presence. The Prince may be trouble, a nuisance, but radiantly did he smile.

The party at the table stood as the Prince approached, unguarded and somewhat disheveled. He shot everyone a surprisingly cordial smile, “I apologise, I got occupied with a… business.” he sat down beside the Sea Snake, helping himself to generous portions of the food on the table. Everyone furtively watched as he gobbled up the food in untethered enthusiasm, stuffing his mouth just a grain away from spillage with every morsel.

Her father cleared his throat, “Your Grace, I hope you have found everything to your comfort.”

“Yes, yes, I have, Lord Bartalos. Many thanks!” he happily exclaimed, “The food is delicious here!” he lifted his goblet, cocking it at my Mother before taking a hefty sip.

“Yes, we have great cooks here.” Lord Bartalos informed, his eyes rolling backward ever-so-slightly, “Your Grace, you’ve gotten to know my elder daughter, Maera. She is smart, well-learned, young and beautiful.” As her father spoke of her, each word sounded like it ended in a question.

The Prince stared at the man who sat at the head of the table as if befuddled by a new proposition that made little sense. After a moment, he took another hefty sip of the wine, chewed the food in his mouth, and swallowed hard. His hands found the handkerchief and dabbed it on his lips swiftly, “Yes, I almost forgot!” he let out a loud laugh. “Thank you for the reminder, Lord Bartalos. Well, I’ve thought of it all night, I was thinking of it before I even got here.” he set the cutlery down on his plate, “I would be honoured to wed your daughter, my Lord.”

#hotd fanfics #game of thrones #house of the dragon fanfiction #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon fanfic #corlys velaryon #aemma arryn #hotd fanfic #laena velaryon #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #house of the dragon #original character

5 notes · View notes

likeshipsonthesea · 4 years ago

Text

mianmian gets to the lan sect lectures, discovers very quickly that every one of her peers has decided to use this time to figure out how quickly they can get into bed with someone of the opposite sex, and decides almost immediately that she has to pick a suitably unattainable guy to have a crush on.

the thing is, mianmian is lanling jin’s head disciple. she is capable, intelligent, and very very gay. the last of these things she isn’t exactly keen on telling people yet for a variety of reasons up to and including jin zixuan will be so awkward and stubbornly supportive about it and she doesn’t know how to deal with that yet

so when her friends giggle over the other young masters and finally turn to mianmian-- who’s trying to memorize at least some of the fifty-thousand rules before their quiz tomorrow--and they ask her, “who do you like, mianmian?” she says the name that she carefully picked out of a handful of options.

“lan-er-gongzi,” she says, without looking up from her textbook, and she assumes that will be the end of it.

lan wangji is both incredibly attractive and unrelentingly resistant to all attempts to flirt with him. she, like half the other female cultivators, can moon over him (or pretend to moon over him) all they want and nothing will come of it. it’s perfect. she’s a genius. the worst she’ll have to do now is pretend to be infatuated with him when her friends start gossiping. it’s fool proof.

spoiler: it’s not

it’s not, no, because her friends are horrible and immediately start gossiping about it to everyone, and usually mianmian wouldn’t care but then jin zixuan finds out. jin zixuan, whose marriage complex is being brought to center stage with the forced proximity to his bride-to-be. jin zixuan, who for some reason decided he has to live his stolen crush-addled youth vicariously through his only real friend that isn’t related to him. jin zixuan, who for some godforsaken reason takes it upon himself to contrive situations for mianmian and lan wangji to be alone together incessantly.

it unfortunately takes mianmian longer than she would like to figure out what’s happening. she’d give herself a break for it-- she was being responsible and studying, thank you very much-- but she doesn’t have much sympathy for her own stupidity seeing as she’s currently locked in a section of the lan library with the second jade of lan

and suddenly, suddenly she’s just so fucking tired. of studying, yeah, the tests here are brutal and there’s no one to bribe to make sure she doesn’t lose points on stupid things, but also tired of lying to the people she loves and tired of training this hard and being an amazing cultivator only for people to care more about her eventual marriage-- to a man of all things!-- and also, let’s be real here, she’s been in lectures with beautiful capable intelligent women for like months and she’s losing her gay ass mind

and so maybe, possibly, as she’s locked in a library with a clearly confused and annoyed second jade of lan she kind of, momentarily, loses it and rants all of this at his steadily widening eyes

at the end of it, she realizes with no small amount of panic that she’s just confessed not only her attraction to women but the fact that she’s been letting wen qing’s ears of all things distract her from her studies. if anything, she’s sure lan wangji will fault her for inattention

but the second jade of lan, after a drawn-out moment filled only with mianmian’s labored breathing and rising panic, simply says, “i understand.”

mianmian stops. she squints. she tilts her head. she squints some more. lan wangji’s ears go pink and just like that she realizes -- “you’re a cut-sleeve.”

lan wangji’s ears go even pinker. he doesn’t nod, or agree, or outwardly react in any way, but mianmian is a capable, intelligent cultivator, and she’s sure of it.

mianmian sighs with a relief she didn’t know she could feel. “thank the gods.”

lan wangji doesn’t seem to know what to make of this response, or mianmian’s increasingly frequent trips to the library following their conversation, or mianmian’s staunch determination to befriend the guy, but that’s alright. mianmian is old hat at befriending awkward sect heirs by this point.

it’s not like lan wangji expressed any desire for her friendship, but the prospect of not being the only one with absolutely no interest in the straight shenanigans happening at gusu lan summer camp is enough to let mianmian ignore his obvious confusion. lan wangji is a great listener and only sometimes blushes when mianmian waxes poetic about the beautiful women she’s forced to surround herself with every day

“no but you don’t understand,” mianmian insists, alone in the library with lan wangji, “jiang-guniang asked me to help her with a sword form. i put my hands on her waist. i said something idiotic bc she was so pretty and right there and then she laughed. lan wangji. i’m in love.”

“yesterday you were in love with wen-guniang,” lan wangji says as he impassively turns a page in his book. “has this changed?”

“no, i’m in love with both of them. all of them. lan wangji. they’re all so pretty all the time. it’s horrible.”

lan wangji presses his lips into a firmer line, which mianmian’s come to understand means he’s repressing a smile. “i’m sorry to hear it brings luo-guniang such trouble.”

mianmian groans, fairly undignified, but that’s a lost cause with lan wangji at this point anyway. “i swear, if jin zixuan says one more bad thing about her i’m going to punch him and marry her myself.”

lan wangji says, “mn,” which mianmian takes to mean that he supports her in this line of thinking, which she finds both quite sweet and ridiculously funny.

grinning, she teases, “lan-er-gongzi, if i do end up marrying jiang-guniang, will you bear witness to our elopement?”

lan wangji’s lips press again, this time in the way that means he’s repressing a frown. “jiang-guniang’s brothers wouldn’t allow for an elopement,” he says.

mianmian huffs. “as if yunmeng or lanling will deign to host our wedding.”

lan wangji appears to ponder this for a moment before he says, “gusu will host it,” and it’s at that moment that mianmian realizes she’s actually gone and fucking befriended the second jade of lan.

what is her life.

of course, it’s not long after that that she goes to find jin zixuan and explain that she can’t make their weekly sparring match today because she has plans with lan wangji (jiang yanli tenderly brushed some of mianmian’s hair away from her forehead while they were working on sword forms and if mianmian doesn’t tell someone about it she’s literally going to explode) and she’s trying to be as polite as possible only for jin zixuan to scoff and pout (”i don’t pout”) and say, “i never took you for one of those women who throw themselves so wantonly at a man”

it’s only for having been friends with this absolutely horrible communicator for most of her life that she doesn’t immediately punch him in the face. “what did you just say to me,” she demands, but jin zixuan just sets his jaw and looks away, flushing down his neck in the way his mother describes as unbecoming and--

and mianmian suddenly realizes that her ridiculous best friend is jealous of lan wangji.

(in a friend way, of course, he’s like her brother, the one time his mother implied that he ought not get too close to women in case it jeopardizes his betrothal to jiang yanli, he insisted he didn’t have any female friends repeatedly as his mother delicately danced around outright saying mianmian’s name until finally she broke and jin zixuan was basically like huh?? mianmian doesn’t count?? she made me eat dirt like six times when we were kids)

the sheer ridiculousness of jin zixuan, to set her up with a guy and then get jealous when she spends all her time with him

and fuck her, but she loves her stupid awkward ridiculous sect heir best friend and she doesn’t want him to think she’s gone and left him for someone else (gods know jin zixuan’s loyalty complex rivals his marriage one (on second thought the two might be connected)) and so, after making a few quick decisions, mianmian grabs her stupid best friend by the wrist and pulls him to the library

he protests all the way there, but he’s been letting her drag him wherever she wants since they were five and it isn’t as if he’s going to break the pattern now. she drags him to the library and sits him down across a startled lan wangji and then finally breaks and gushes about jiang-guniang’s fingertips brushing her forehead and doesn’t look at jin zixuan once the whole time

lan wangji, on the other hand, sends jin zixuan frequent glances, as if worried on mianmian’s behalf, which is super sweet and also how the fuck did mianmian get two awkward sect heirs to care about her platonically wtf. she spares a thought for her poor auntie, who would’ve loved to have a sect heir care about her niece in much less platonic ways.

at the end of mianmian’s rant, jin zixuan is blinking quite a lot. “you like women?” he asks. he’s always been a bit slow on the uptake. mianmian nods. “you like jiang-guniang?”

mianmian shrugs. “more or less. she’s just really pretty and i’m dying about it. it’s fine.”

lan wangji says, “mn,” sympathetically and jin zixuan continues to gape.

mianmian winces. “you’re not going to be weird about this, are you?”

jin zixuan shakes his head quickly. “no, no-- of course not, i--you know that i--you’re my best friend, i don’t care--what does it matter to me, who you want to--to touch your hair.”

it’s probably the most awkward sentence he’s said to her in years, but possibly more articulate than she’d been expecting. it makes her tear up regardless and she punches him in the shoulder to hide it, and that’s basically how the three of them start hanging out in the library nearly every day after lecture.

sometimes they go to the sparring ground, bc who’s better sparring practice than the second jade of lan? and sometimes (once or twice) mianmian manages to convince lan wangji to join her and jin zixuan for lunch in caiyi town when they don’t have lecture, but mostly they meet in a secluded part of the library where mianmian can rant about how pretty all the women at lectures are, jin zixuan can turn pink whenever she mentions jiang-guniang, and lan wangji can “mn” and nod sympathetically at all the right parts

and mianmian thinks that’s going to be the end of it, they’re just going to be friends now and everything else will move on as usual, bc by some ridiculous trick of fate lan wangji and jin zixuan seem to like each other. which makes sense in hindsight bc they’re both awkward sect heirs who care about cultivation and people a lot even if they’re not great at showing it

(and he’d never say it but mianmian thinks jin zixuan’s easy acceptance of her liking women is probably the first time lan wangji’s ever seen someone accept that kind of thing before (maybe, possibly, other than his brother, lan xichen seems really cool, even if he does smile kind of intensely at mianmian whenever he happens upon her hanging out with his little brother.))

so they’re friends, they’re unexpected friends, and sometimes lan wangji even makes jokes in that dry deadpan way of his and sometimes jin zixuan doesn’t completely trip over his own words and manages to act like a normal human being and mianmian gets two idiots to care about and a perfect place to vent her womanly frustrations, and she thinks that’s the end of it and then wei wuxian accosts her after lectures one day

“do you like lan zhan?” he asks accusingly, eyes narrowed to slits. “what am i even asking, of course you like lan zhan, but do you like-like him?”

mianmian thinks sadly to herself that she’s much too into women to be dealing with all these men’s emotional problems. “lan wangji is my friend,” she says, carefully sidestepping wei wuxian, who continues to squint at her suspiciously. really, he’d been amusing when he flirted with her, but this? this is just ridiculous.

“does he know that?” wei wuxian asks. “because if he doesn’t, that’s just leading him on, and it’s really not nice to--”

“lan wangji knows we’re friends,” she says, trying to enunciate to get her point across clearly. “you can ask him, if you don’t believe me.”

wei wuxian squints a moment longer before he turns and flounces off. mianmian thinks this is the end of it until she’s accosted again after dinner with, “he said you were friends!”

for some reason, wei wuxian seems even more troubled by this than earlier. mianmian tries to suppress her eyeroll. “i told you he would?”

“but how,” wei wuxian says, suddenly whining. “i’ve been trying to be his friend for months and he refuses to acknowledge me.”

oh, mianmian realizes with a quickly dawning horror. she and lan wangji are not the only cut-sleeves at cloud recesses this summer. (she has suspicions, of course, but no confirmations on any of the others, but this. wow.)

she also realizes, decides really, that she has enough repressed sect heirs in her life and she cannot deal with wei wuxian’s cut-sleeve crisis or his evidently large attachment to lan wangji right now. she turns decisively and walks the fuck away. not her problem.

the lectures end eventually, of course, and mianmian and jin zixuan return to lanling with a horde of golden robed disciples, freshly deflowered and not all together more learned. it’s what, she thinks grimly, their sect leader would want.

the first few weeks go by and she realizes that she’s missed unloading about her frequent and fast falling-in-loves. jin zixuan just doesn’t sympathize right, bless him, and so mianmian takes to writing letters. she sends two without receiving a reply and just starts to write the third when a letter with the gusu symbol is delivered to her room.

she’s almost expecting to find a single mn written on the page-- she would’ve been delighted with just that, actually, the sheer hilarity of such a thing-- but instead she finds several pages filled with lan wangji’s perfect calligraphy.

it’s more than he’s ever spoken out loud, but it seems that propriety dictated that he return mianmian’s extensive letter with one of his own and he’s done so admirably. he responds to the events mianmian detailed in her letters-- most succinctly summarized as, woman are gorgeous and i’m dying-- and then writes about his own life in cloud recesses. apparently, he went on a little night hunt with wei wuxian and also nie huaisang and jiang cheng were involved? seriously, mianmian misses out on all the fun.

he’s also apparently taken in some rabbits, which mianmian immediately decides she needs to see. lan wangji, sitting prim and proper, with a bunch of rabbits in his lap? amazing. wei wuxian would die on sight, she’s sure of it.

he also ends his letter with a warning about qishan wen that has mianmian frowning. she takes it to jin zixuan who reads the paragraph and frowns. “i’ll talk to my father about it,” he says, which she can tell by his hunched shoulders he doesn’t expect to do much.

“talk to your father’s general too,” she suggests, because that man at least thinks with his head and not his dick.

jin zixuan nods but doesn’t hand back the letter. he skims it instead with a barely concealed surprise at lan wangji’s previously hidden expansive vocabulary. mianmian snorts and grabs the letter back. “you can write to him yourself, you know.”

jin zixuan flushes down his neck. “i know!” he insists and then turns and runs away because he’s a coward. mianmian shakes her head, smiling. what an idiot.

still, another week goes by and a letter arrives from gusu and, when mianmian takes it, assuming it’s for her, she finds it addressed to jin zixuan in lan wangji’s impeccable calligraphy and she grins to herself like an idiot. look at jin zixuan, making friends

(she suddenly understands why lan xichen gave her all those intense smiles during the lan lectures)

they go on in this way, writing letters to lan wangji from lanling. sometimes mianmian steals jin zixuan’s letters before he sends them so she can squeeze in some ranting in the post script without wasting a whole second thing of paper, and lan wangji replies dutifully, more verbose than he ever was in person, and it’s nice okay, like. she and jin zixuan have been best friends since they were kids but neither of them has ever been any good at listening and lan wangji is just so honest and earnest in everything, like they didn’t realize that people outside of lanling were actually not always plotting your downfall??? who woulda thunk

and then of course the wens go and ruin everything. they go to the wen lectures bc jin guangshan doesn’t want to “anger our trading partner” like the guy isn’t obviously going to burn carp tower to the ground the first chance he gets, and mostly mianmian and jin zixuan are just vaguely annoyed and put out about it

then lan wangji shows up with a broken leg and a burned sect and they are ready to murder some dudes

after years of breaking in and out of carp tower she and jin zixuan are old hats at this breaking and entering stuff and they manage to sneak into lan wangji’s guest quarters and tend to his wounds, ignoring all his silent glares and ranting furiously about how they’re going to murder wen chao by making him choke on his own dick (mianmian) and how they’re going to war with the wen sect even if he has to threaten his father with acknowledging all of his bastards as proper siblings in public to do it (jin zixuan)

lan wangji just says “mn” and makes various muted, distressed expressions, but mianmian thinks he’s touched.

“are your brother and uncle alright?” she asks, when she’s set his broken leg and forced pain medication down his throat.

“brother escaped with our sacred texts,” lan wangji says. “uncle is... unwell.”

mianmian knows lan wangji hates touch but the way he says it, with this horrible little frown, emoting more than she’s ever seen him, his barely suppressed anger and grief literally making his hands shake into fists, mianmian can’t help it, she hugs him. “we’ll make them pay,” she swears into his shoulder, ruining the lines of his robes with how she clutches at them. “i promise you.”

jin zixuan awkwardly pats lan wangji’s shoulder, which is a lot for him and mianmian spares a moment to be proud of his growth.

unfortunately, wen chao seems to delight in torturing lan wangji on his injured leg and lan wangji refuses to show weakness, which both impresses mianmian and pisses her the fuck off. she approaches wen qing (and her still gorgeous ears, sigh) and asks her to tend to lan wangji, since she’s like actually a doctor. wen qing does bc she’s beautiful, intelligent, and kind and mianmian spends most of that night sighing deeply as she relates this to a significantly drugged lan wangji

the cave of the xuanwu goes about the same as you’d expect. wei wuxian saving her from getting her face branded off is pretty rad of him, though he could’ve just like knocked the brand away instead of throwing himself in front of it but whatever, you do you boo. when lan wangji gets left behind the two of them don’t even have to wait for jiang cheng to grumble and ask for their help, they’re already on their way to carp tower for an army, thank you very much

when they rescue wei wuxian and lan wangji and lan wangji immediately turns to walk back to cloud recesses on a broken leg mianmian says, “fuck no, that’s not happening, you’re getting medical attention and then someone will fly you back home, okay, wtf wangji, sit down.”

and lan wangji is a stubborn bitch so obvs he’s like no but he’s also severely starved, dehydrated, and injured, so it’s not like he can just shake off mianmian holding him down and this goes on long enough for wei wuxian to wake up and see mianmian touching lan wangji, and something in his poor little brain just like breaks and he demands says, “lan zhan, come back to lotus pier with us.”

his argument, as he explains it, is that lotus pier is closer (it’s not; they’re just as close to carp tower as lotus pier) and that it’s closer to gusu for when lan wangji has to return home (it’s not; same deal) but then jiang cheng starts yelling, possibly in support possibly not mianmian’s not sure, and jin zixuan starts getting awkward, probably about the whole golden army behind him bc he’s a nerd and hates being overdressed at functions (this is basically the same thing), and mianmian looks at lan wangji and she sees--

something. she isn’t sure what exactly, but lan wangji looks at wei wuxian as he argues with his brother and he presses his lips into a thin line in the way that means he wants to smile and mianmian thinks, oh. maybe wei wuxian isn’t completely unrequited in his lan wangji obsession.

growing up in lanling, she knows how to use information to her advantage, so she immediately says, “young masters wei and jiang, what a great idea. lanling’s disciples would be pleased to accompany you and second young master lan to lotus pier to ensure everyone’s safe arrival.”

everyone splutters, indignant, confused, awkward (jiang cheng, wei wuxian, and jin zixuan, respectively) but lan wangji narrows his eyes at mianmian and doesn’t try to convince her to let him walk to gusu again, so she counts it as a win.

sect leader jiang and his wife seem surprised and annoyed, respectively, to be taking in so many guests, but sect leader jiang merely smiles pleasantly and directs them to some guest quarters and mianmian and wei wuxian ask, simultaneously, for doctors to tend to lan wangji and wei wuxian makes a face at her and mianmian sighs to herself that she really is too gay to be in the middle of his thing with lan wangji.

turns out, walking a lot and fighting a cannibalistic turtle on a broken leg doesn’t do wonders for healing. lan wangji is also the worst patient ever, he keeps trying to sneak out and get up even though word came from his brother that he’s safe and alright and that cloud recesses is starting to rebuild after qinghe nie and lanling jin came to its aid and pushed out the wen

but with the combined efforts of mianmian, jin zixuan, and wei wuxian (and even jiang yanli at one point, bc who could say no to her soup??) they manage to get lan wangji to just rest for a fucking second, really which results in the jin disciples and lan wangji staying in lotus pier for longer than anyone could’ve expected

mianmian spends most of her time (when she isn’t forcing lan wangji to just fucking stay in bed) working with the jiang disciples, practicing archery, sword forms, and mooning after all the beautiful women here.

(”lan wangji, i know she’s scary, but have you seen madam yu? she could whip me with zidian and i’d thank her” “luo-guniang, please don’t ask madam yu to whip you” OR “lan wangji, i’m almost positive madam yu’s maids are a thing, do you think they’d let me join them just like once” “luo-guniang, could you please pass me my sword?” “why” “i’d like to put myself out of this misery” OR “she made me soup. lan wangji. lan wangji, i know you’re not sleeping, wake up, you have to listen to me, this soup”)

they end up staying so long that when wang lingjiao shows up threatening a child about a kite while sect leader jiang is away, she has a lot more to deal with than madam yu. since none of this had been a “sanctioned visit” no one actually knew that there was nearly an entire troop of jin disciples staying at lotus pier, so when the wens attack they are sorely unprepared for what they’re going to face.

(and ofc lan wangji breaks out of bed heroically and keeps madam yu from whipping wei wuxian, which means they aren’t down one of their most powerful fighters and mianmian has to suffer through the moon eyes they’re making at one another in the middle of a battle no less, she knew wei wuxian had no shame but she’d been hoping lan wangji would have some)

after the wen attack (and defeat) on lotus pier and the jin’s inarguable part in it, the war starts in earnest. lan wangji, after his long rest, heals fine and goes back to gusu to help rebuild his sect and plan for war, and mianmian and jin zixuan return to carp tower to plan as well, ignoring jin guangshan and focusing instead on his general to ensure lanling supplies necessary aid in the war effort

and war is always shitty, of course, and mianmian hates watching her sect family die on the battlefield, hates waiting for updates after every battle to see who’s still alive, hates the politics and jin guangshan trying to wheedle his way out of fighting when there’s fucking lives on the line

(and she could never know, how much easier it is, with yunmeng jiang at its full strength, with one of the brightest minds of their generation there to plot and help, with two of the best fighters not out searching for someone and instead focused on the front)

they reach nightless city after months of fighting and mianmian is ready to just fucking stab wen ruohan herself when they’re suddenly trapped. blocked in on all sides by puppets, their fallen soldiers rising again to turn on them, and it--it looks like they’re gonna die.

“this sucks,” she says to lan wangji, stifling her fear and choking it down. “i never even got to kiss a girl.”

lan wangji just says “mn.”

jin zixuan, beside them, says, “i was an idiot about jiang-guniang.”

lan wangji just says, “mn.”

then wei wuxian pulls out a fucking flute and a-- floating piece of metal? the army of puppets and corpses stops advancing, held in place by-- music, apparently? and wen ruohan emerges from his lair, black energy falling off him in waves, wei wuxian the idiot flies forward to meet him, gets wen ruohan’s hand around his throat for his trouble.

lan wangji yells, “wei ying!” and mianmian thinks, really not fair that lan wangji is gonna get a boyfriend before i get a girlfriend

and then wen ruohan gets stabbed by jin zixuan’s half brother of all people. wen ruohan, along with his puppets and wei wuxian, fall to the ground. lan wangji rushes forward to catch wei wuxian, mianmian runs after him, finds herself in company with jin zixuan and jiang cheng. when they get there, wei wuxian is barely conscious but he’s-- he’s fucking grinning up at lan wangji from the cradle of lan wangji’s arms

“lan zhan,” he says, “you caught me.”

lan wangji nods, says, “mn,” which is basically his equivalent of i’ll always catch you, wei ying.

“really,” mianmian says aloud, “it’s so unfair.”

the aftermath of the war is more annoying than the war itself, what with all the politics and in-fighting and jin guangshan trying to be the biggest dick there ever was. jin guangshan tries to name himself chief cultivator in wen ruohan’s stead but nie mingjue suggests jiang fengmian instead and the lan sect backs him. jin guangshan tries to demonize the wens but at wei wuxian’s loud rebuttal and sect leader jiang’s backing (which is then backed by both gusu lan and qinghe nie) he’s once again shouted down. and then jin guangshan tries to propose to jiang-guniang for his son and the poor woman just seems so awkward and her father doesn’t seem to know what to say and--

mianmian elbows jin zixuan whose eyes widen ridiculously but, after another, harder hit, he suddenly stands. all eyes go to him, which mianmian knows he hates, but he bows to his father, then jiang yanli, and says, “jiang-guniang, forgive my father’s impertinence. this is not the time or place to be making such an offer, but he--” jin zixuan winces visibly. “--he knows of my feelings and wishes to make his foolish son happy. please, do not feel the need to respond.”

then he promptly sits down, flushing down to his neck, and mianmian shares a disbelieving glance with lan wangji from across the horrible nightless city palace room.

she’d really only meant for him to suggest jiang yanli answer privately, at a later time, but wow, jin zixuan really went for it. also no way jin guangshan knows his son has fallen in love with jiang yanli, so nice save face there. maybe he has been paying attention in all of their etiquette and political espionage classes.

jiang yanli flushes way prettier than jin zixuan and nods politely, stands and bows and thanks the jin clan for being considerate in this time of turmoil, perhaps they can discuss this matter at a later date (jin zixuan looks like he nearly faints at this, and mianmian feels vindicated in all her forlorn ranting. overreacting her ass)

when everything has been settled, wen qing has been appointed the new sect leader of qishan wen with promises to return land to those who lost it and pay reparations to the hurt civilians, as well as have the yin iron destroyed for good. during the final ceremony where all the sects have tea and pledge to be loyal to one another (until the next great war, of course) mianmian leans close to lan wangji and sighs, “her ears look even lovelier with her hair tied back by her new sect leader hairpiece.”

lan wangji says “mn” because he’s a cut sleeve in love with wei wuxian and has nothing even closely resembling taste.

mianmian, on her own, decides to make them both happy. before the jin clan departs from nightless city, she goes up to wei wuxian and asks for a moment of his time. wei wuxian seems confused but follows and, once they’re alone, he says, “mianmian, are you about to get me into bed, because i must tell you that i am a respectable young cultivator and you’ll need to marry me before--”

mianmian gives him her best unimpressed look (she’s had much practice with it, thank you jin zixuan) and cuts him off with, “i like women.”

wei wuxian’s eyes go wide. “but you and lan zhan--”

she cuts him off again before he can say something so stupid she has to stop talking to him to refrain from breaking all laws of propriety. “look,” she says, “you’re friends with wen qing. now that she’s sect leader, your brother can’t go after her. i, on the other hand, very much can. if you promise to figure out a way for me and her to get close, i’ll tell you a secret you’ll like very much.”

wei wuxian seems hesitant for all of half a second before he breaks. “tell me.”

“do you promise?”

wei wuxian raises three fingers. “promise.”

“on your sister’s life?”

begrudgingly, wei wuxian nods.

“on her soup?”

“just get on with it!”

mianmian smirks, pushes onto her tiptoes, and whispers the secret into wei wuxian’s ear. with that, she returns to the pavilion where all the sects mingle as they wait to depart, wei wuxian trailing behind her in a daze, his mouth hanging open.

lan wangji, who had been watching since mianmian asked wei wuxian for a moment to talk, frowns nearly imperceptibly. mianmian grins at him and his frown grows.

ah, whatever. she walks over to him, unbothered by the quickly growing alarm in his eyes. once next to him, she turns around to see wei wuxian staring unabashedly. her smile only widens.

“you’re going to thank me for this,” she says.

wei wuxian shakes himself, his eyes focusing, and immediately starts walking towards them.

lan wangji, voice flat but wavering, asks, “luo-guniang, what did you do?”

mianmian laughs, says, “i get to give a speech at your wedding,” and walks away just as wei wuxian reaches them.

(she does, actually, give a speech at their wedding. she may or may not be drunk during it, jin zixuan gets embarrassed for her, and she starts tearing up and has to hide it in the shoulder of her wife’s lovely well-tailored robes. it’s alright, though, wen qing doesn’t mind)

EDIT: now on AO3 with a real fic version from lwj’s pov!

3K notes · View notes

fallenrepublick · 2 years ago

Note

To the hc where you are forced to marry Thurfian; how about more about why he wants to hurt Thrawn by taking you away from him. But Thrufian doesn't really care for you it's just his way to get back at Thrawn. A little bit angst for you and Thrawn, separated by the "villain". And then some about the grand escape. How Thrass makes it all happen.

You got it into my head and now it's festering there. Please I need more.

It is true, Thurfian is mostly doing it out of spite, and for a while, no one has any clue why. But in the end, it boils down to hatred. With you, Thrawn is happy. He gets yet again everything he's ever wanted. Someone who loves him, a life to match with his good career standing. What if... someone stood in the way? What if he were to take Thrawn's happiness... and put an end to it? You wouldn't suffer, not by any means. But the man you love would not be yours.

Besides, Thurfian reasons, leaning back in his chair after filing the betrothal request; Thrawn could use one less distraction in his life. It's time he learned to be what he once was. A good warrior. Nothing more. Everyone has their role to play, and doting husband was not one of the responsibilities of an Ascendancy officer.

Your heart stops when you receive that notification, sitting in Thrawn's arms as he kisses your neck. He instantly feels the horror run up your spine, and you feel almost sick at the thought of telling him the truth.

"Love," he he hums, sliding his hands up your arms, "What is it?"

"I..." you begin, too terrified, too in pain to think straight. What do you say? It's so out of nowhere, and yet a decision this great might even imply that it was planned long ago. Would Thrawn be angry? Would he... blame you?

All you manage to do is hand him the screen in silence, fearing his response.

"What is this...?" he asks in earnest, barely comprehending the congratulations of the fine match you were offered, "How can this be? Surely you didn't... request..."

"No!" you cry, turning yourself and burying your face against him, "I could never... I don't know what this is... or why..."

Things don't get much better as the clocks tick, as the days count until the wedding. Thurfian doesn't offer much answer, or any interaction at all, for that matter. He appears for the public at your side, and quickly scurries off the minute the show is over.

Thrawn, it seems, has been inexplicably forced into more and more work, with more and more absences to accompany it. His comfort dwindles, the best company he can offer being the small kisses in his office and his presence after you've already fallen asleep. So of course, you confide in Thrass, the brother who seems to always be anywhere that isn't work.

"Thurfian has always been an asshat," he grumbles, swirling his wine around in its glass, "But this is a new low." He sits on cushy furniture, free hand outstretched along the back of the couch, one leg crossed over the other.

You pace back and forth in front of him, cradling yourself and only feeling less and less ease as the seconds pass.

"I don't have a choice anymore," you say weakly, "I have to go through with it."

"Ch'acah," he says quietly, holding out a hand for you to take, "We can change this, I'm certain of it."

Whether it was a lie or not, even he couldn't say. It was true, he had his doubts, and confronting Thurfian would only cause him more problems in the long run.

He never expected, "Don't be jealous," to come out of Thurfian's mouth.

"I don't know what you mean."

His colleague gave a slight smirk. "Oh, come on. You're only angry that I thought of this before you did. Don't try to tell me that you wouldn't have called in a betrothal if you had thought of it. You're simply angry I got to them first."

"You're jumping to some far conclusions," Thrass said easily, "If I were that upset, would I not be trying to bargain for it myself?"

"That would mean risking the likelihood of them despising you for it."

Thrass grimaced. Thurfian was right, the bastard. But it ultimately meant little.

"Call it off," Thrass said once more, "And I will support your vying for patriarch when the time comes."

For a moment, Thurfian was silent. "Hm. A quid pro quo?"

"A favor."

Like a cliché supervillain, Thurfian tapped a finger on his chin before saying, "No deal. I don't need you as much as you assume."

It was a response Thrass accepted with more grace than he felt. In time, he returns to you, and he returns with an entirely different plan.

It is decided, the day before the wedding, that the back door would remain unlocked.

"We call it a hazard if the doors are locked," he explains, pointing at the map of the grand hall, "I will be waiting just outside the door. There are hidden side halls designed for servers and workers to use while large events are taking place. The music will begin playing, distracting everyone while you slip through the right hallway and out the back door. The speeder will already be running."

"What if someone catches me?" you ask nervously.

"They won't," he ensures you, "From there, we end at my house, where you and Thrawn will be in the hidden library."

"Since... when did you have a hidden library?"

"Since I had a dumb little brother who stole my books and never returned them."

#thrass #chiss triangle #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn #thurfian

19 notes · View notes

thatlongspringnight · 4 years ago

Text

A Crown in Springtime (Jungkook x Fem!Reader)

summary: When Jungkook caught the eye of the queen that night, he didn’t realize just how much it would change his life for the better.

pairing: Jungkook x female Reader

genre: arranged marriage au, lust at first sight, romance

word count: 6.2k

❂ amorentia in spring

⁂ hosted by: professor amora through @bangtansorciere

⤐ au type: daffodil

⤐ themes: spring, honeymoon

⤐ kinks: Edging ⤞ Praise ⤞ Cunninglus ⤞ Fingering ⤞ Handjob ⤞ Thigh Riding ⤞ Hair Pulling ⤞ Creampie ⤞

Jungkook is nervous, it bleeds into him like the cold of midwinter, a stark difference from the blossoms of early spring that surround him. Even now, in the sunshine of early morning, he shivers, nerves leaving him tense as he feigns calm, leaning back on the veranda as though nothing has changed, nothing is different, letting the sun soak into his bones.

But everything has changed. He’s more tense now then he was a day ago, when he was kneeling at the ancient altar, handfasting himself to a woman he barely knew for life, for the hereafter too….And not just any woman. His liege, his queen...now his wife. His father had talked of nothing else for the last two months...since...since the betrothal. All he could speak on was the arrangement, brooking no talk or protest from him, nothing but smiling and acceptance.

A savior - his father had called her, the queen their savior, rescuing them from poverty.

“She chose you.” It had been repeated so many times, the idea that he should be grateful, grateful for this arranged marriage. He should be full of joy even, plucked from obscurity to marry her. But...but he doesn’t know her, he can’t wrap his mind around why she would pick him She could have anyone after all...so why him?

Before the wedding...he could count the number of times he had seen her on one hand. A - A little older than him, a couple of years, maybe - he hadn’t known a world where she had not been queen. She had grown up with a crown on her head, a sword in her palm, and the shadow of a dynasty weighing on her shoulders. A child queen raised on tales of her ancestors, long dead, war and conquest. He...He had heard that she had been in want of a husband.

His father had even suggested his older brother, his heir - but never once had his name been mentioned. Not until....not until that night - two months ago, when - when she had smiled at him, eyes alight in mirth and something he didn’t have a name for yet, asking him to dance after a dinner.

They had gone to court for the winter celebration, and he had felt her eyes on him during the meal, offering her a soft smile, as - as was proper.

She’d asked him to dance, first - his thoughts repeated, an honor, one that had given him the warmth of her palm in his, her eyes trailing up his face.

“Your hair.” She had murmured, a hand going to play with the strands. “Blue like the ocean.” His own personal magic, how the fae had manifested in him. He wondered how it manifested in her…

Either way…was that why? Was that why she had picked him? Not even two days after, she had offered his father...and the deed had been done..all leading up to yesterday, kneeling at the altar, him bedecked in clothes woven of silver thread, blue sapphires dripping from them, from the crown she laid on his head. Joining him at the altar, covered in gold. He felt like the moon, lit only by her golden glow.

Somehow, somehow he had made it through, repeating ancient vows that dipped magick into his blood, feeling their bond form as sure and strong as the rope that bound their hands. Somehow that day had faded to night, banquets and being whisked away - a honeymoon in the mountains - early spring blossoms filling the air with perfume.

A honeymoon, but still - no bride. The thought alone is enough to stir something, a gentle sigh making him jolt. Her, he knows its her, he can feel it, looking up to meet her amused gaze. The - the queen, his queen, he dips his head, scrambling to sit properly, to bow…

At least until her fingertips press his forehead, stilling him instantly.

“No Need.” her voice still shocks him, calm and easy - sweet too - like the last drops of sap from a tapped tree at the end of winter. “Especially not here.”

“....Not here?”

“You haven’t noticed?” She smiles now, and it makes him feel warm. “We’re all alone. No one dares to interrupt their queen on her honeymoon.” He’s watching her, stepping to sit beside him, legs dangling like his were just moments before.

“And...and if we weren’t alone?” He curses how slowly the words seem to come to him, trailing and trembling in her presence, but he can’t help it. His position feels uncertain, her husband, but what does that make him. He’s no king.

“Then you’d only need to nod your head.” She hums, a hand lifting up, moving to block the light, to let the sun’s rays break between her fingertips. “You’re a prince now, anyway, my darling, people will be bowing to you.” She says it so easily, like it doesn’t alter his entire life. “But….between us.” She continues. “I’d like it to be different.” This is the most she’s ever spoken to him, and he finds himself entranced at her lips, the way she forms words.

“Different?” He mumbles, barely aware he’s asked.

“Different, friends at least.” She tilts her head to look at him. “Maybe even more.”

“F-Friends?” he questions, eyes widening. “With me?” “Is that so odd?” She snorts. “To want to be friends with my husband?” “....No.” He answers after a moment. “Well - just a little.”

“At the end of the day, I’m just a normal girl, you know.” Words he doesn’t believe, not even for a moment.

The day passes, the coolness of the morning fading to a gentle heat, and he learns - Jungkook learns about his wife.

More than he’s bargained for.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” She pushes her own plate of food at him. “Here, eat up.” They are lounging again, on the veranda, which seems to be her favorite place, his too, where the breeze is gentle, and the flowers bloom so heavily nearby it smells like a garden. “It will get cold and you won’t want it.” Its a simple pronouncement, one that makes him pout.

“How do you know?” He answers her, watching how her lips twitch into a smile. “Maybe i want it cold.” “As your Queen, I demand you eat.” That pronouncement is met with him grumbling, before he sits up, a look in his eyes that makes her raise an eyebrow.

“Feed me then.” Jungkook demands, a petulant lilt to his voice, even as he tries to hide his smile.

“What?”

“Feed me.”He gives her a grin, one that makes her heart beat quicken, not that he knows, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Come on - “ He throws her words from before back in her face. “Feed me or else everything’s going to get cold.”

“What a baby.” The woman complains, not at all fooled by the sweet look on his face. “You’re not playing fair, Jungkook.” His name, whenever she says it, makes his stomach flutter with butterflies. Still, he doesn’t even pout at being called a baby, too triumphant at her shifting to face him, reaching to pick up a slice of meat, offering it to him. “Your highness.” She mocks, and he could only snicker, enjoying the taste on his tongue.

It is delicious.

“So good – its delicious.” The smile he shot her was enough to make the woman feel a brush of something she chose not to name. Damn this boy, damn him for making doing something so simple as eating so attractive.

It made her want to tease him, and that made her smile, something he notices. “You – you gave in really easily.” Jungkook spoke after a moment of comfortable silence. She had, this woman who had led his people in war, had fed him just now, without much protest at all. “Maybe you can feed me every day.” Did he enjoy it? Yes, of course he did, but unfortunately for him, the words seemed to click something into place for her.

“Oh, you want me to feed you every day?” The woman purred, managed to snag a bite of her own food before setting down her plate. The air shifts, a shiver coursing through him, the trees seeming to shiver too. “Tell me something, Jungkookie.”

“W-What?” He speaks, a bit of alarm on his face as she leaned over him, her body suddenly very close. “T-Tell you what?”

“Ahh..” She settles herself close to him. So close, their shoulders touch, and when she leans over, their noses nearly brush. “Tell me, are you sure you want this every day?” This time, when she offers him food, he is slower to take it, his cheeks warm. It feels heady, being close to her like this, and he wonders if this intimacy will ever feel anything other than clandestine. “Jungkook, I asked you a question.”

“Ngh.” The boy looked up, his nose brushing hers. “I – I wouldn’t mind.” He breathes. Her chest was too close to his face, and the skin she exposed…it was right there. His lips could brush her collarbones if he looks straight ahead. Suddenly a warm day felt blazing hot. “I – I’m thirsty – “ He managed to speak, unsure of how he even got his voice to work.

“Thirsty?” A teacup was balanced in her hand in an instant, her hold graceful…almost delicate. “Tea, your highness?”

“Don’t call me that.” He protests. “I – you’re the Queen - I’m just - “ “You’re my husband.” She answers, offering him a sip. “Your highness is an appropriate title.”

“But to you, I should just be Jungkook.” He answers her, and she can only smile.

“Can I taste too?” its a shift in conversation, but Jungkook nods, assuming she’d just…take a drink from his cup – which is why his brain short circuits the moment the cup was pulled away, replaced by her lips.

Cherry blossom tea is at first just a hint of salt – one that fades to a mellow sweetness, floral notes and plum. Jungkook thinks to himself. Those grounded musings lost at her lips. She is kissing him, and he is overwhelmed, the taste of her and the cherry blossom tea an all too dangerous combination for him, leaving him lightheaded. She is kissing him - and he could have whined, the angle of their bodies meaning he couldn’t move his hands from the ground, or they’d both tumble over.

And he didn’t want to lose the fierceness of her kiss - her hands in his hair, tugging at the strands hard enough for him to whimper, the sound lost as her tongue explored his mouth, stealing the taste of tea from his lips.

He is on fire, he is in bloom under her touch.

And then she pulls away, panting against his lips, her own cheeks flushed.

“I like it – the tea. Its good on its own…but its better tasting it on your lips, pretty boy.” Jungkook could faint.

“I – y-you can’t just….you can’t just say things like that!”

“Do you need a moment?” She is stretching out like a cat in the sun. “We should make flower crowns next, my prince.”

Jungkook truly looks like a fish out of water in that moment, his mouth opening and closing in shock, and She could’ve laughed at the blush high on his cheeks. She had got him right where she wanted him, he realizes. The lilt to her voice was teasing as she gives him a knowing smirk. “What’s wrong, Jungkook?”

“I-“ He gulps, unable to speak, the taste of salt and honey still strong on his tongue from their kiss. It is too much- she is too much. “A-Actually, my throat is still dry.” He clears his throat once, then twice as if he was trying to prove it to her. “I might n-need another drink...”

“Well, that is a problem, isn’t it.” She tilts her head to the side in mock sympathy and he nods, almost a little too eagerly, giving it away.

“It is, yes. Maybe- maybe you could help me drink again?”

“Hmm, I could...but you also have two perfectly good hands to use so.” She shrugged. “That sounds more like a problem than a me problem.”

“But maybe I’d rather use my hands for...other things.” He is trying to tempt her- and failing miserably as she barely spared him a second glance, too busy focusing on gathering the materials for the flower crowns, something that he wasn’t as interested in now as he had been before.

“Well that’s good, seeing as you’ll need them to make your crown. What flowers did you want?”

Making flower crowns was relaxing – that is the thought after a few minutes, as he hummed softly, twisting the flowers around the ribbon, grinning as they connected. It was unconscious, he sways softly, humming under his breath. He used to make so many of them, for the whole court…and his father would always pick his over his brother’s…

“Ugh – “ The frustrated sound from beside him, pulls him from his memories, and he pauses, listening softly to the woman’s grumbles. Glancing down, he finds a bit of a mess, and it made him grin – he didn’t want to say anything though – not wanting to break her focus – that is until she hissed through her teeth, the flowers literally bursting from their ribbon, scattering around her.

“Gah – “She grimaces, and he laughs outright, her head whipping around at the sound, finding him already wearing his…

And it was beautiful…of course.

“Having some trouble– “

“Its not easy.” She huffs. “You must be cheating somehow.”

“I did not!” Jungkook protests. “I just have more experience is all - “

“I can’t do it.” She straight up whines, and Jungkook grins, giggling in earnest, scooting closer to her. How was she so cute, struggling like this, gathering up her flowers. In this moment she is just a girl, and he is just a boy - He can’t help but be brave.

“Here...”He croons, reaching for her, pulling her closer so he can watch. “Let me teach you.” Only after does he realize how informal he’s being, shooting her a worried glance, only to be met by a little pout.

“I-I don’t need any help!” She curses under her breath, her stammer hardly hidden as she gives him a little glare. “I can do it!”

“Here.” His chin rested on her shoulder, hands gently taking hers in his. “You made your stems too short so they were harder to wrap.” Those flowers get set aside as he picks others from the pile. “These longer ones will work better.

She was silent as she watched him manipulate her hands with his own, twisting the flowers so it entwined with the ribbon, the dyed material looking so good against his skin.

“...try?” The sudden baritone of his voice makes her jump.

“What?”

“I said, why don’t you try.” He has the gall to sound amused and she finds herself scowling at his grin. Even if she couldn’t see it- she felt it. “Let’s try to pay more attention when I’m teaching you, alright?”

“Give me that.” She grabs the flower crown from him, ignoring the sound of his laugh, his body shaking next to her. Jungkook watches her, how she furrows her brows, grabbed another flower- daisies this time, and carefully winds it around the ribbon like he had showed her, focusing hard on her task.

She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself, wistful almost. Beautiful, and he’s hers.

Beautiful, and wants him just as bad as he wants her - something he finds out the next morning, the veranda a place of more than just relaxing in the sunshine.

“You should call me Noona.” Her voice is a purr against his ear, the kind that makes Jungkook shiver, tensing against her light touch. And it is like, fingers trailing his skin, delicate in the way they touch him, make him yearn for more...its...unexpected, how she makes him feel desirable and full of desire for her all at once.

“N-Noona - “ He stammers, breath hitching at her fingertips parting the robe he’s wearing, dancing across his chest. “Ngh - you - “ “You’re so pretty.” She murmurs. “I wanna make you feel good.” He’s tensing at that, but the pit in his stomach is full of butterflies and aching, nothing like fear clinging to him now. “I don’t want you to regret...this...with me.” “This…?” he asks, confusion bleeding into his tone. “This...now?” “Now - and...our marriage.” She confesses, face dipping lower, lips ghosting across the juncture of his throat. “I want to make it worth it for you.” “Why is it worth it for you?” He wonders aloud. “I’m no one at all - “ “You’re magic itself.” She counters, and this time its a kiss against his neck, not just lips, this time her hand finds purchase on his chest, fingernails a dull scrap against his skin. It feels good, and he whines softly, adjusting to the feeling. “Beautiful, sweet - Strong.” She says, and she can feel his cheeks heat. “What, is it embarrassing to hear?” She sounds almost amused, blowing lightly at the strands of his hair, soft blue in the clear, cloudless sunshine.

“T-That - “ He nearly chokes on his own spit. “That - that’s taking it a little too far.” Its almost scolding. “How can you know that?’

“I want to know everything there is to know about you.” She answers. “And to show you all of me, too, if you...if you’ll let me.”

“I want to...to see you.” He answers, honestly, after a moment. “You’re my wife after all, my bride.” There is a smile, hers, against his skin.

“Such a good boy.” She praises, and he cannot help the pleased feeling under his skin, the way he nods, preening a little under her words. “Such a pretty, darling man.” Her hand, trailing lower, bringing new, ticklish feelings to his skin.

This type of affection wasn’t altogether new to him, romps with boys and girls in the stables up...up until recently, but this is different too, there is a feeling there he’s not used to, a longing coming from the woman that registers in his heart.

He can feel her loneliness, the ache in her soul - and he wants to fill it as best he can. Maybe that’s what she had seen in him that night, that same feeling - deep in his heart - that deep alone that kept him up at night.

So he kisses her, adjusting so he’s nearly in her lap, back to her chest, turning to catch her gaze. His lips meet hers and he sees her eyes widen, before his own shut, one of her hands coming to cup his cheek, thumb stroking idly against his skin. It’s sweet - soft, at least for a moment. But they’re both ravenous, he realizes, when it’s his hands that find purchase on the dainty silk robe that hid her form. Ravenous as she bites at his bottom lip, earning a whine, a whimper - when he looks up again, there is something molten in her gaze, and in his stomach.

He wants her, and -

“Ngh -“ he muffles the sound of surprise in his throat as she shifts them, so now it’s her, legs parted on either side of his thigh, sitting with her hands pressed against his chest. “I - I -“

“You?” She asks, like she hasn’t put them in a compromising position, little smirk at her lips. “Cat got your tongue, Jungkook?” Her thumb parts his lips, delight on her face as he opens his mouth, lets her press it to his tongue. “I’d be glad to have your tongue on my kitten.” The slang is enough to make him sweat, heat prickling against his skin.

He’s wearing too many clothes - even if all he’s in is a night robe, the mid morning sun has left him languid and warm, her touch has set fire to his skin - and her - so close to him, nose brushing at the skin of his cheek, coaxing him closer, mouth meeting his with more fervor, hands tangling in his hair.

She’s pulling at the strands, drawing a whine from his lips as her hips rock forward, as his hands find purchase on her hips - registering what she’s doing before his mind catches up.

“N-noona -“ it’s a moan as they part, him panting softly, him trying his best to capture her lips again, only for her to evade. “I want to kiss you.”

“Do you?” She asks, a soft hum on her lips as she brushes them by his ear, earning a shiver. “Badly?”

“Everywhere.” He’s feeling bolder now, straightening his posture so he can give her more - tensing the muscles of his thighs as she rocks - rewarded with a surprised, pleased little noise, even more at how he shifts her himself, across the strength of his thigh, exposed now.

“Not worried we’re going to get caught?” She asks, met with beautiful, darkened eyes.

“You said that I didn’t have to worry about anyone disturbing us.” He reminds. “Who’d dare interrupt their queen?” He mimics her voice from before, pleased when she laughs, when she grips lightly at his hair, tugging again just to make him whine.

“Brat.” But her tone is fond, like she’s seen him and found nothing displeasing in the least. “But you’re right, no one would dare.” She eyes him, noting the way his hands grip at her, eager to get her out of her clothes. “Don’t you try it.” She warns before he can act. “Seeing me naked is something that you’ll have to earn I’m afraid.” Even as she says that, her hand is grasping at the tie around his, her eyes meeting his own, seeking a silent permission he gives readily.

The ribbon holding it closed is pulled away, her hand making contact with his lower stomach. Dipping lower, finding purchase on something that makes him hiss.

“A-Ah - “ “Hard.” She poses, and its not a question, its an observation. He’s hard. “Pretty.” She tacks on. “Even your cock is pretty.” He feels like he could combust, head dropping to hid in the crook of her neck.

“N-Noona.” He whines. “Don’t say that.”

“Come on, Jungkookie.” There is a note of challenge to her tone. “Are you just going to sit here while I touch your dick? Or are you going to help your wife, hm? She glances at his hands on her hips, looking back up at him.

Its enough, he’s back at it, biting his lip as she touches him, and her touch is light, light as she trails fingertips against the head of his cock, dips them down to grasp at him, pulling her hand away so she can lick her palm. He’s entranced, only shifting her hips because she told him to, entirely too focused on her damp palm meeting his skin again, dragging up, up, up.

But that’s not the only sensation. Its her, rutting against his thigh when he’s not fast enough, thumbing at his tip. He is conscious of his moans, soft and eager, and that’s about it, overwhelmed with the feeling.

“N-Noona - “ “Beautiful.” She answers him, and he can feel her - her essence against his skin, he’s flustered. “Lazy.” She teases and he whines, this time actually dragging her against his thigh. Again, then again, over and over - movements faltering as her drag up his skin sped up.

It - it was so hard to focus -

“I-It would be easier if I was inside you.” He finally counters, words catching up with his thoughts - and that gets a reaction, her thighs clamping around his, her movement stuttering. “If y-you let me - “ “Already at the business of begetting heirs?” her palm slips from him and he whimpers. “Not yet, if you want it, I need it first.” She warns. She doesn’t mind being selfish, he already knows - and he doesn’t mind it either.

“Then let me give it to you.” He’s pulling away, eyeing her. “Let me - let me worship you, on my knees, since you’re my...my queen - my wife.” and he is on his knees, already, something that clearly pleases her.

“Worship me?” She asks, perching up on her hands, legs stretched out in front of her. “You mean between my thighs, where you belong, right?” His cock is still hard, she muses, still throbbing and leaking, and eager - but making him wait was good, bringing him close to the edge and then not letting him…

Perfect.

“Can I?” He asks again, needing more than that from her. “Please - “ “You should talk less.” She answers him. “You’re wasting time you could be worshipping me.” It spurs him forward, but she meets him halfway. He is pushed down, pulled forward, till his nose was brushing against her core, silk robe falling around exposed hips and soon enough her legs were resting on his shoulders, holding him in place. He looked up, finding her flushed, seemingly eager.

“This – this is what you want?”

“Come on, Kookie – You said you wanted to worship me, to be on your knees before me...So…why don’t you show me what that mouth does…besides teasing.”

“Ngh -!” Jungkook flushes hard at the crude words that fall from her lips, his whole body uncomfortably hot. He wants to hide his face from her dark gaze but with the firm grip she had on his hair, he couldn’t move. Even then, he isn’t sure he could, trapped in her gaze the way he was. “V-Vulgar.”

“I’m just telling you what I want, Jungkookie. You said you were going to….so do it.” The way she is looking at him makes that fire ignite in his blood again, a deep sense of desire and wanting.

Because she is right. Jungkook wants to watch as she fell apart, her thighs trembling from around his head, his name like a prayer on her lips as her back arched with pleasure.

He wants nothing more.

“Okay.” He murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to her thighs, intent on getting her just as hot as he felt. “You’re so wet for me, Noona.” Slowly, he ghosts his mouth over her core before going to press kisses to her other thigh, not missing the way she tensed and let out a little huff when he passed over her center.

“I’d be wetter if you actually used your tongue on me.”

“Maybe so.” He hums, letting his thumb brush over her clit, the corners of his lips twitching upwards at her soft whimper and he wonders if she tastes as sweet as the noises she makes, as sweet as the honey that he had tasted on her tongue earlier. Jungkook lets his gaze rest on hers before giving an experimental circle of his tongue on her clit, the woman jolting at the touch.

“J-Jungkook-!“

He doesn’t pause, his eyes still on hers as he wraps pretty lips around her pearl, giving a gentle suck, just to see how she’d react, a finger drawing over her entrance.

Jungkook is not disappointed at her reaction, her hands falling free of his hair, digging into the wood of the veranda beneath her. She moans, a pleased – heady sound, her heels pressing into his back, pushing him closer and closer to her core. So – so she liked that, then, Jungkook took note, returning to kitten licking at her.

Don’t try to overwhelm her with the first thing you find she likes, take your time, savor her, till she’s aching with need - advice from his older brother about what to do with girls - he’d taken it, and it had always seemed to work. he took a breath, his warmth ghosting over her as he pressed his finger against her.

“Noona – c-can – can I?” Jungkook asked, wanting to make sure.

“Yes –! ngh – “ She tenses at the feeling of his finger. “F-Fuck… please – “ He slid a finger inside of her, the feeling making him whimper against her core. She – she was so warm, clenching around him...

“O-Oh –“ He couldn’t help press his hips against the floor, searching for friction. How was it going to feel…buried inside of her, the hot, and wet and – and tight. He really was going to have to work her over now…because he doubted he was going to last very long at all. “Noona – you – you feel – so good.” Her thighs pressed against his face, and her head was tossed back.

“More – Kookie – more, y-you can be more rough with me.” His name on her lips, the endearment not lost on him, spoken so fondly, with such need – Jungkook can’t help himself but give in to her desires. Sliding his finger out, till she whined at the empty feeling, this time her thrust two in, harder, teeth just lightly grazing her clit. If – if she wanted rough –

“A-Ah! Jungkook!” the moan was sinful, and more of a cry, a shudder going through her as she tenses – “Ngh…ah..” He is thrusting his fingers into her, sitting up to press a kiss to her stomach, to bite lightly at her skin.

“Noona – Noona – you’re driving me crazy –“ The boy pants, still rutting into the floor. “You – ngh – you sound so hot, I – I can’t – “

“Jungkook- “ Her voice sounds almost scolding. “Don’t – don’t you dare get yourself off.” He froze, not realizing she could tell.”

“B-But…But Noona –“ he whines, met with her hands in his hair again, pulling roughly.

“No – you – you’re pleasuring me now. Just me.”

Just her...

Jungkook wanted to pout, to whine more at her scolding. It- it was hard to not lose himself over in the sound of her moans, the cry of his name falling from her lips. He couldn’t help that he wanted to be inside of her, actually inside of her- not just his fingers. To have her clenched tight around him.

“J-Jungkook, move..” His wife gives a little wriggle of her hips, huffing at the stilling of his fingers. Brat. Trying to get off by himself- like she wouldn’t notice the shift of his hip and his soft whimpers against her skin. She gives him a cool look from his place between her legs. “Unless you want me to finish what you started on my own-“

“N-No!” He blurted, his doe eyes wide at her implication. “No, Noona.” He repeated, slowly resuming his finger work, her shuddering in response. “Let- let me take care of you.” And then his mouth was on her again, sucking, licking, his fingers crooking inside of her- crooking his fingers to find that spot that’d make her see stars. He’d know just by the way-

“A-Ah -“ Her grip on his hair tightened, holding him in place. “Ngh, K-Kookie, right- right there.” She moans. “D-Don’t you dare stop.” She could feel him smirk against her and honestly, she would’ve said something if it didn’t feel so fucking good, his tongue flattening against her clit before circling around the nub. She was close, she could feel it- that pleasure growing tight like a bow that was being strung. She was just about to fall until-

Until-

“S-Stop -!”

Her gasp took him by surprise, her pulling him away from her immediately. Jungkook blinked up at her, confusion on his face. She had told him not to stop before... Had- had he done something wrong? “Noona...?”

“C-Come here.” She shifts then, pulling him up to her so she could capture his lips with hers, tasting herself on his tongue. Her hands dropped to his waist, a whine in Jungkook’s throat, his hips bucking against her hand as she palms at him again, a whimper as she bites down on his lip.

“Ngh, Noona, why...why’d you have me stop?” He felt his dick twitch in her hand and gods, he wishes he could feel her properly. “Y-You were close, a-ah, I could feel it.”

“I was, you’re right.” Finally- finally, she moves, grasping his hand to put it against the tie of her robe.. “But if I’m going to cum...then I want to be doing it around your cock- not your fingers. I want you to see all of me.” That’s all he needs, pulling at it, undoing it - watching the silk slip from her shoulders, slowly exposing all of her.

She’s beautiful, but he already knows that.

“Jungkook.” Her voice is breathy, and her fingers traced patterns against the skin of his chest as he takes her in. “Kookie – you’re – you’re breathtaking.” He whines softly, hiding his face against her neck again, clearly flustered at her words.

“I - I should be telling you that - “ He protests, but she is unabashed.

“Jungkookie…” A hand dipped lower, finding purchase on his cock, swollen, pre-cum dripping.

He is big. And even his dick was pretty, smooth and straight, with a gentle curve upward, She thinks wryly, wondering how physical perfection had managed to manifest itself so clearly in this man. Like every bit was crafted to draw a reaction from her, to make her long for him, yearn for him, need to have him.

She had known from the moment she’d seen him.

“Noona- “

“I’m yours to take.” She answers the unspoken question, pulling him to her, till he is gripping at her hips, glad that he had something to hold onto so his hands wouldn’t shake, the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh as he shifted her hips upwards. Slowly, slowly, he sinks into her. Glad not to have to wait anymore, a whine on his lips at her heat that surrounds him and he feels her stiffen, her mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ of pleasure. “N-Noona -“

She is hot and...and so tight around him, clenched like a vice, and he knows- Jungkook knows that he won’t be able to last very long.

“Ngh-“ A gasp leaves her throat at him suddenly thrusting inside. “K-Kook -“

“A-Ah, Noona, I- ngh, I can’t help it.” He leans forward, pressing kisses to her neck, her hands coming up to grip at his shoulders. “You- you feel so good.”

“Do i?” She asks, his reaction more than enough to clarify, hips setting a pace that seems to surprise her. “Ngh - you - you feel good too.”

“A-And you’re beautiful.” Jungkook finally feels brave enough to say it. “I - I’m a little terrified of you, b-but I don’t regret this.” Its sweet, in its own way, and it makes her laugh.

“I hope you never do.” She is kissing him again.

“W-What about you?” He asks after a moment. “Do you r-regret it?” “Never.” She answers against his lips. “Now, stop this idle worrying, let me feel your cum dripping out of me, instead.”

“N-Noona – you – you can’t say that.” Jungkook works on steadying himself, methodical in his thrusts, her words echoing in his head. That thought – the feeling of her, he can’t help thrust as deep as he can, feeling her nails dig into his skin, her small pleasured sounds filling the air. He could feel her tense, like this, his name falling from her lips as she gripped at him.

“K-Kookie – there – that’s it. Ngh – just like that.” She wasn’t shy under him, her legs wrapping around his narrow hips, drawing a soft groan from him.

“It – ngh – feels too good.” Jungkook whines, only to have her pull him into a kiss…one he wasn’t sure was to silence her or himself. Whatever it was, it was messy, teeth and tongue and sounds of pleasure.

But – but – he can feel it, that same feeling in his stomach, and he knew he needed to finish her, rewarded with her flat out moan, the loudest sound he had heard come from her, heady and high, when his fingers met her bud, breaking their messy kisses to toss her head back, a shudder coursing down her body.

“J-Jungkook - !” There it is, the boy is triumphant, rubbing at her roughly – its what she wanted after all – still pounding into her, thrusts growing more and more sloppy with every move. He could feel her again – too, the way she tenses and tightens, but even in his triumph he couldn’t help the words on his lips.

“Please, please – please Noona, please cum.” He is begging, his own mind hazy with pleasure. “Ngh – need you too…really bad.” He didn’t know what possessed him, slamming into her enough to make him wince, but it was enough.

It was too much – the feeling of her falling apart, how tight she was, pulsing against him, too much – and he -and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He empties himself in her, feeling very much so like a bucket, tossed to the ground, water spilled.

“I told you no one would catch us.” She speaks after his breath settles, idly playing with his hair. “My dear husband.” “Y-You - I’m...I’m happy.” His words don’t fit hers, but they do all at once, telling her directly what she wanted to know. “That you chose me to give a crown to.”

“Your magic sang to mine.” is all she says in return, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Your loneliness called to mine, because you were always meant to be mine...and i was always meant to be yours.”

#bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts romance #bts jungkook #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #bangtan au #bangtan fic #ficswithluv #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanhq #bangtansorciere

499 notes · View notes

drwcn · 4 years ago

Text

《 Without Envy 》 storyboard 9 - concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj [Master List], you should also have read [6] [6.2]

Lan Qiren coming to visit Hanguang-fu effectively put an end to Wei Wuxian's time as Lan Wangji's servant. He wanted to send Wei Wuxian back to Jiang-fu, but luckily, Jiang Yanli interfered.

Jiang Yanli has been slowly recovering since her drug-induced miscarriage, and while Wei Wuxian had slowed her progress with sedatives, he's been careful to keep an eye on her intake to make sure Jin Ziyan hasn't been messing with her again. As well, with Wei Wuxian occupying Lan Wangji's time and keeping the Jiang family in his good graces, Jiang Yanli had the time she needed to recover fully without needing to push herself to entertain Lan Wangji for favour.

“妾身见过太师，给太师请安。” “阿离啊，听说你小产后一直身体不好，这下着雨，你怎么来了。起身吧, 孩子。” “承蒙太师与陛下惦记，殿下垂怜，阿离的身子已经大好了。阿羡本是妾身院里的，是妾身的陪嫁，一直都安分守己，对王府对殿下忠心不二。是妾身无用，身子一直不见好才让阿羡到王爷身边侍奉。刚见阿羡被太师训斥，相比是阿离平日里管教无方，无心顶撞了太师。有什么过错，都是妾身的错，还请太师责罚。” ~translate~ Jiang Yanli dipped into a proper curtsey, kneeling before Lan Qiren, "This humble concubine greets Taishi. I pray that you've been well." "A-Li, I've heard that you've not been well since your miscarriage. It's raining today, what troubled you to come? Rise, child." Lan Qiren's stance softened upon seeing Jiang Yanli. His late sister-in-law had no daughters, and so often summoned the daughters of nobles into court to dote on and mentor as her own. Jiang Yanli, gentle and proper, has long been known to be a favorite of the late empress. She may not be the greatest beauty in her generation, but was second to none when it came to etiquette and grace. "Thanks be to His Majesty and taishi for remembering, and thanks to dianxia's for his care, my health is much improved now. A-Xian was once a member of my court, my peijia. I've always known him to be obedient and conscious of his place, and loyal to wangye and this princely manor. It is only on account of my poor health that he's been summoned to serve at wangye's side. Earlier, I heard Taishi chastising him; surely it must be A-Li's fault for failing to teaching him propriety and thus causing his unintended offence. The fault is with A-Li, and so I humbly submit myself to your discipline, taishi." Lan Qiren sighed. He did not wish to stir up trouble over a servant. If Jiang Yanli was willing to stand up for this Wei Wuxian, then he must have his uses. At the very least, he'll be a confidant for Jiang Yanli against Jin Ziyan. Lan Qiren so hoped that one day Wangji would choose the Jiang girl as his legal spouse and secure his marriage once and for all. If sparing one lowly servant was the price then so be it. "Very well, A-Li. Since the servant is yours, then his training and discipline shall be your responsible. He is unsuited to serve at the prince's side. It is good that you have recovered; Wangji should not be without a caring partner."

And so, Wei Wuxian returned to Jiang Yanli's side as a servant. Lan Wangji had to watch him go and could not interfere. The next several days was depressing for both of them on multiple fronts.

Xue Yang was very unimpressed:

"So you're tell me that you got to spend quality time with Lan Wangji for months and then... didn't get anywhere?" "I was getting there okay? How was I supposed to know his stupid uncle was gonna barge in like some nosey busybody and ruin everything!? I haven't seen Lan Zhan in days..." I miss him. How horrifyingly embarrassing. He probably forgot me already. "Don't tell me you actually miss him??? That you - barf - fell for him? Whatever happened to standards??!" "You watch your mouth, Xue Chengmei! I'm still your shixiong! And I have standards; Lan Zhan is...very good." Xue Yang: ( ˘︹˘ ) whatever.

Lan Wangji, the sulky boy that he is, brooded for days until Lan Xichen finally sought him out for some good ol' brotherly heart to heart.

"I hear Uncle took away your shiny new toy." "Wei Ying is not a toy." "Wei Ying is it?" Lan Xichen wiggled his eyebrows. "Ah, didi, you have to think a little more creatively. So your Wei Ying has gone back to his mistress, but is his mistress not your concubine? Jiang-furen is still unpregnant, I might add. Visit her. Then surely you'll get to see him." Lan Wangji grimaced. The thought has occurred to him, but the idea of bedding anyone not Wei Ying is intolerable. "Yes, Yanli is lovely, but I'd rather not...you know..." His brother was too polite to roll his eyes. "You've done it before, Wangji." "I would not have had to, if xiongzhang simply did his duty." Lan Wangji bit back icily, and instantly regretted it. Lan Xichen's eyes widened, his cheerful-teasing expression stuttering and crumbling in seconds. "Yes...yes that's true." "My sincerest apologies, huangxiong - no - bixia." Lan Wangji rose to his feet and then bowed down deeply. "I forgot my place. I accept any punishment." Lan Xichen sighed and extended a forgiving hand to pardon him. "Not necessary, Wangji. You're right. I haven't done my duty for Gusu." He pulled the younger man to sit beside him again. "You are doing this in my stead, stepping up where I have let the country down. I should not make light of your sacrifice. The matter of a harem is inevitably complicated, which is why I never cared for one. Neither did Father. His harem had always been sparse, and his first empress was not one of his choosing. When she died in childbirth and our unborn sibling along with her, he elevated our mother's rank to Empress and visited no one else henceforth." "Mother was never popular with the ministers for that reason." "Yes. They suspected that she had something to do with...well, in any case I imagine they were quite relieved when she passed." Lan Xichen shook his head. "The harem is not a happy place, Wangji. You were born after Mother was already Empress, you would not have remembered a time when she was consort. But I do. Like you, your concubines did not get to choose their fate. The fault, ultimately, lies with me." "Huangxiong -" "It's true, Wangji. The fault is mine." Lan Xichen patted him on the arm placatingly. "You cannot love them, and clever as they are, I don't think your concubines would expect you to. However, you can ensure their happiness in other ways. Jiang-furen seems the kind to very much want a child of her own. It will make the rest of her life in your harem more bearable."

After some deliberation, Lan Wangji went back to his routine of visiting different concubines regularly, but never more than just sharing a bed-space. With the exception of Jiang Yanli. Lan Wangji could see it in her eyes; she knew who he really wanted, but those words never needed to be said aloud. Jiang Yanli was kind to him, and he was kind to her in return. All things considered, it wasn't awful being with someone who wasn't your preferred, but who knew you for yourself and shared your struggles.

"Dianxia, you must've heard, that before I married into your wangfu, I was betrothed to Jin Zixuan." She mentioned one evening over a game of weiqi. Of all his concubines (which he has 4) and friends (which he has few), Jiang Yanli's skill on the weiqi board was unparalleled. Lan Wangji half wondered how the Marquis and Marchioness of Yunmeng could have buried this talented daughter of theirs under the shadow of their son for so many years. "Yes I am aware." "I loved him." "...." For a minute Lan Wangji did not know how to reply. He stared at the chessboard. Jiang Yanli's black pieces had surrounded his white ones and forced them into a corner. "Why are you telling me this?" "Your court, my clan: we are their creatures." Jiang Yanli 's smile was knowing. "I am not A-Xian; I can see what he cannot." "Which is?" "You've fallen for each other. Completely. He denies it, heaven knows why." Jiang Yanli took a delicate sip of tea. Fleetingly, Lan Wangji imagined that if he could not have Wei Ying, if he were forced to take a legal wife to make empress, that she would make a magnificent one. "Father loved Mother. Loved her as a wife even when she was only a consort -" "And his love spurred the hate of the royal court." "They blamed her for his loving a woman more than his country, as though she should have persuaded him to love her less. I do not want the same to happen to Wei Ying." "Nor I." "Huangshu says I would need a legal spouse one day, someone virtuous and from a strong pureblood family." "Is that what dianxia wants?" "I want it to be Wei Ying, though I know it to be impossible. Barring that, I'd want to keep him safe in the harem, the size of which will only grow after I succeed the throne." "For that, dianxia will need a spouse who will reign over the harem as you rule over the country." Lan Wangji contemplated his choices and the options available to him. After some time, he placed the white piece he fiddled between his fingers back into the bamboo bowl, conceding that he'd lost this round. Jiang Yanli waited patiently for him to come to terms with the offer she already knew he would make. He wondered how long ago she had foreseen this moment, whilst simultaneously realizing that if his uncle had any idea just how intelligent she truly was, he would not be so quick to suggest her as a candidate for princess consort. A weak emperor and a strong empress never boded well for the stability of the realm. This was dangerous waters Lan Wangji was wading into, but he knew beyond doubt that the only way to survive was to keep straight ahead. He had no other path to take, none which maximally balanced what he wanted with what he needed. Jiang Yanli was his only solution, his only ally. "Huangxiong suggested that we have a child together." He finally said, staring her squarely in the eyes. "You and I can agree that the son of Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang would certainly be a strong contender amongst his brothers." "She could be a daughter." "Then I'd cherish her more. A child and a crown - would they make you happy, Yanli?" "If I said yes?" "Then they're yours." Jiang Yanli smiled.

Two months after Wei Wuxian was dismissed from Lan Wangji's service and the prince began visiting Jiang Yanli, good new was delivered to Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan. The message was this: Hanguang-wang's Jiang-furen was with child yet again.

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #cql ficlet #corie fics #without envy #i said i'd do this for yall #and so i did

161 notes · View notes

sincerelystranger · 4 years ago

Text

not enough 5

Wei Wuxian proves himself to be good.

Good and kind and diligent.

And like his father, his goodness breaks Jiang Fengmian’s heart.

“They saved me, uncle,” he says, his eyes dark and wide and desperate. “The only mark against them is that they are Wens. They’ve never killed or hurt anyone. I can’t – What the Jin’s are doing is not justice.”

Jiang Fengmian can’t do anything but look back at him.

They’re in the cursed Burial Mounds, a group of Wen’s shiver behind Wei Wuxian. All of them, hiding behind this young boy as if he can save them.

Jiang Fengmian wants to hate them, but he sees too much of himself in them. He’s no better than them, after all. He’s been looking for salvation in Wei Wuxian for years.

“This will make you an enemy out of the entire cultivation world,” Jiang Cheng snarls angrily, stepping forward to grab Wei Wuxian’s arm and shake it. “They already talk ill of your cultivation. You protecting the Wen’s… Wei Wuxian… Our sect cannot afford to protect them.”

“That’s why I will protect them,” Wei Wuxian replies seriously, “Tell everyone that my actions are mine alone – that the Yunmeng Jiang do not approve.”

Jiang Cheng turns to him. “Father – tell him!” he says desperately, “Tell him he cannot do this!”

Wei Wuxian turns his head to look at him as well.

“Wen Ning is the only reason I was able to get you and Yu-Furan out that night, uncle,” he says softly, “If for that reason alone, I cannot abandon them.”

This is the first time Wei Wuxian has really stood up against Jiang Fengmian, and it breaks Jiang Fengmian’s heart that it is to defend his honor.

If only they weren’t Wens.

If they were from any other family, Jiang Fengmian would happily protect them for the rest of their lives.

But his son is right.

And his wife is right.

And Wei Wuxian is right.

“We can’t protect you, A-Xian,” Jiang Fengmian says softly, and his voice comes out surprisingly even, even as his heart crumbles in his chest. “Is this really what you choose?”

Wei Wuxian stares at him for a long while before he nods solemnly. A stray tear falls down his face and Jiang Fengmian turns before he sees any more fall.

“Father,” Jiang Cheng calls out desperately, “You can’t let him – father!”

“With this decision, you are no longer part of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect,” Jiang Fengmian says calmly. “You are no longer under our protection and we will no longer claim you.”

He doesn’t know if Wei Wuxian replies or not, because walks away.

Jiang Cheng catches up to him when he’s already more than halfway down the mountain. “Father,” he says desperately, and Jiang Fengmian can already tell by the sound of his voice that his son is crying. “A-Xian – Wei Wuxian, he’s just – he’s just—“

“Hush,” Jiang Fengmian says not slowing down at all. If he stops now. If he stumbles even just one step. He knows that he will run back there and drag Wei Wuxian back to Lotus Pier. He knows this. So he can’t stop.

“Please father,” Jiang Cheng sobs, “You can’t throw A-Xian away like this. Look around you – a person cannot survive here. You’re sentencing him to death. Please—“

“This is Wei Wuxian’s decision!” Jiang Fengmian shouts, his eyes looking forward, his back straight and his steps steady.

“But he’ll die,” Jiang Cheng sobs, “Why won’t you save him? Don’t you care?”

I do love him, Jiang Fengmian thinks numbly. It’s because I love him that I cannot save him.

That boy. That poor boy. He never had a choice anyway.

From the moment Jiang Fengmian found him on the street, Wei Wuxian was destined to ruin himself for him.

He was just like his father after all.

---

His wife is surprisingly furious with him.

“You should have dragged him back here by his hair if you had to,” she seethes, Zidian crackling on her fist.

“He would not leave without the remaining Wens,” Jiang Fengmian explains calmly, “I did as much as I could.”

“Then you should have brought the Wens along as well,” she snaps back.

Her reply shocks him.

“You know as well as I do that bringing them back is not an option,” he says.

She scoffs at his answer. “Why? Are you so afraid of those arrogant old men and their gossip?”

“It’s more than gossip,” he says, “Protecting the Wens would mark us as traitors.”

“Protecting old women and children would mark us traitors?” his wife asks sarcastically. “How cowardly you are.”

“Do you not care of how our sect is spoken about?” he asks, his voice rising with his temper. He had expected this from Jiang Cheng but from his wife? He had secretly thought she would be delighted to finally be rid of Wei Wuxian.

“If I cared how we were spoken about, I would not have let that orphan live with us for so many years,” she yells back.

Her answer silences him. It makes him sit back on his seat and just look at her.

She’s strange, his wife. And just when he thinks he knows her… she…

But then again, Jiang Fengmian has always been a fool.

His problem is that he always thinks he knows.

He sighs deeply and lowers his head in defeat. “I cannot bring him back now,” he says tiredly, “His separation from our sect is already common knowledge.”

“You’re an old fool,” she says, her mouth turning down in disgust. “Without a sect, everyone in the world will be after that talisman of his. With your cowardice, you’ve sentenced all of them to a miserable end.”

“If you’re right, then I’ve just saved our sect from certain annihilation,” he says, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

He’s not sure anymore what the right thing to do was.

He had been sure when he was on Burial Mounds, but now…

“I do not understand you,” she says coldly. “Once you were prepared to jeopardize all of us to save him. Now, you send him off like a sheep for slaughter. Has your sentimental love for his mother finally come to an end?”

Jiang Fengmian stands and walks out of the room, unable to stand his wife’s words any longer.

I just wanted to free him, Jiang Fengmian thinks desperately.

But maybe he’s lying to himself.

Maybe.

Maybe Jiang Fengmian had just wanted to free himself.

---

They call him the Yiling Patriarch.

Wei Wuxian becomes the topic of many fearsome tales. They claim that he is half man and half demon. They say that he can kill a thousand men with one note from his flute. They say he performs dark magic with the Wens on the cursed Burial Mounds.

People speak endlessly about him and Jiang Fengmian finds that he just… misses him.

Not even just his face or the way he reminds him of the man he lost.

Jiang Fengmian finds that he just misses Wei Wuxian.

Time passes and things seemingly start to settle down and Jiang Fengmian begins to think that perhaps his decision to let Wei Wuxian part from his sect wasn’t the death sentence his wife and Jiang Cheng made it up to be.

Maybe… Maybe for once, Jiang Fengmian has made the right choice.

He finds solace in the thought.

He knows Jiang Cheng goes up to the Burial Mounds every so often. He thinks he’s being sneaky about it, but Jiang Cheng is just as subtle as his mother – which is to say not at all.

Jiang Fengmian turns a blind eye to it and comforts himself with the knowledge that if Wei Wuxian were really in trouble, Jiang Cheng would say something to him.

It’s an odd feeling, but he feels that Jiang Cheng has outgrown him somehow.

At one point, he had believed Jiang Cheng to be too much like him. Unable to love correctly and always hurting the person who least deserved it.

Now…

Now Jiang Cheng doesn’t seem to be like him at all.

“He’ll be a much better sect leader than me,” Jiang Fengmian says to his wife.

His wife turns her head to watch Jiang Cheng. He’s training disciples in the main courtyard. “At the very least, he will be more decisive than you,” she says.

Jiang Fengmian watches her watch her son. It’s hard to remember why he always thought her so indifferent. So cold.

He knows now that there is an inferno that she keeps tightly trapped inside.

She loves so fiercely that it scares her to let it out.

He’s sorry that it took him twenty years to realize it.

“I’m glad he is so much like you,” he says softly, and the truth of it weighs heavily on his chest.

She doesn’t react to his words, but she lowers her eyes and he can tell she’s touched.

“Old age has made you soft,” she says after some time.

Maybe before, Jiang Fengmian would hear the coldness in her words, but now all he can hear is the affection.

It’s strange how things change.

---

His daughter gets married.

She’s stunning in her wedding attire and her smile is bright enough to light up all of Lanling.

Jiang Fengmian had been uncertain about her marriage at first – the last thing he wanted to do was curse her to an unhappy marriage – but looking at how Jin Zixuan dotes on her, he feels safe enough to send her to Lanling…

…And after Jiang Cheng’s long ‘talk’ with Jin Zixuan, Jiang Fengmian feels rather confident that Jin Zixuan will not be like his father.

His wife has a rare smile on her lips during the wedding celebrations.

“If you hadn’t stupidly broken up their betrothal, they would have gotten married much sooner and we might be grandparents by now,” she says, but her tone is too happy for her words to have any real sting.

“I think this may have worked out better,” Jiang Fengmian replies easily with a smile of his own. “A little hardship is good fuel for a man’s love.”

His wife rolls her eyes and huffs a laugh. “Perhaps that is where I went wrong,” she says, “I was too easy.”

Her words are a sharp jab at Jiang Fengmian’s heart.

He knows that their marriage has been a cold one. A meeting of two people unwilling to understand one another.

He often thinks that if they had met under different circumstances, they may… well it might have never been love, but they would not have hurt each other as they did.

Because… he understands now that he hurt her too.

He reaches over and puts his hand over hers.

She doesn’t look at him, but he can tell that she’s surprised by the way she freezes.

“The best a parent can hope for is a better life for their children,” he says softly. “You’ve raised her well, and for that she will have a better marriage than ours.”

His wife blinks rapidly and turns her head slowly to look at him. Her eyes are wide and deep and they look surprisingly vulnerable on her stoic face.

He gives her a soft smile. “But I don’t think our marriage is too bad, either,” he says, and he squeezes her hand in his.

She turns her face away quickly and does not reply.

She’s quiet for the rest of the banquet.

But she doesn’t remove her hand from his.

#mdzs #the untamed #jiang fengmian #yu ziyuan #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #sincerely: not enough

166 notes · View notes

mosswillow · 4 years ago

Text

Synonyms - Dark!Loki x Reader.

Warnings: Dark! 18+ adult content. Smut, noncon/dubcon, stalking, kidnapping, vaginal fingering.

Summary - You’re average in every way, Loki doesn’t think so though.

A/N: This is the last part of the Synonyms series. All of them can be read alone or together. I think it’s a little better when read with the rest, especially since this is the ending but I honestly don’t care if you read just one or all or none, you do you.

This is not my best work but you know sometimes you just have to let stuff go. I’ll shrug it off and keep writing. This is a hobby that I do for fun, I try not to take it too seriously.

Word count: 1.4k

You’ve always been an unexceptional person, average in everything - intelligence, looks, athleticism, creativity. You’re not good or bad at anything, always doing what’s expected of you, nothing more or less. You graduated highschool and went to a state college for a four year degree, graduating middle of your class and landing an entry level office position in the city.

Now you spend your days at your boring 9-5, answering emails and going to meetings. Your co-workers are nice and your boss is tolerable. You should be happy but something inside you tells you there’s more out there, a life waiting for you outside of the monotony. You’ve spent your whole life on a straight line and want desperately to know what it feels like for it to twist, taking you somewhere unexpected.

It rains outside your window and you observe a little boy jump in puddles, the pure joy that melts off the child makes you smile. You’re not sure exactly why the boy puts this thought into your head but you make a spontaneous decision to go camping. You’ve always wanted to go camping and even though it’s something small, the impulsiveness of the decision makes you giddy. You need to get out of this office and into nature. You need to jump in puddles and hike trails, to sit in a quiet place and sketch a river. You need something different. You send an email informing your boss that you will be taking the week off starting Monday and gather your things.

You’re in a hurry to get home, wanting to pick a campsite right away so that you can leave first thing in the morning. The elevator opens and you don’t see him standing in the lobby.

But he sees you.

“I haven’t seen you here before.” he steps in front of you, blocking your exit.

“I’ve worked here almost a year,” you say.

He paces around you, examining you in a way that makes your entire body tingle. He steps behind you, measuring his body against yours and brushes his hand over your cheek gently.

“How fortunate we ran into each other.”

You shudder, taking several steps away, “I should get going.”

“I’ve been looking for a very specific set of characteristics,” He takes a long stride towards you, closing the distance until there’s hardly an inch between you.

You don’t care if you’re being rude, you step away from him and book it home, locking the door as soon as it closes behind you.

You wake up early, packing your car and heading upstate. You take your time setting up your campsite and relax for a moment enjoying the quiet.

You hear something from the woods and for a few minutes you only see shadows before he saunters out of the trees.

“Why did you run off so fast yesterday?”

Your jaw drops.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The man strolls toward you lazily.

“I came to take you.”

You reach for your phone and he’s beside you in a second, grabbing your wrist and forcing you to drop it. He pulls you close and smells the crook of your neck and you respond by elbowing him.

“You’re a feisty one,” he coughs.

You sprint through the forest until you can’t run any longer. You’re pretty sure you lost him, You didn’t hear him behind you as you ran and don’t hear him now.

“Boo”

He puts his hand over your mouth before you can get a scream out.

“We’ll have to work on all of this baby, it’s ok though I’ll have fun breaking you in.”

You kick and squirm but he holds you tight, dragging you back to your tent with ease. He pushes you inside and gets on top of you, holding your hands over your head.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

“How rude of me, I never introduced myself.”

He leans down and kisses your nose and cheek before claiming your mouth, pushing his tongue in with a moan. Electricity moves through his body, leaving his extremities and dispersing into you. Your mind screams no but your body betrays you. Heat radiates from your pussy and you push your thighs together trying to tame the arousal. You relax into him and he lets go of your hands, feeling down your body. He rips your shirt open and kisses down to your breasts.

“Yes, you’ll do nicely,” he purrs.

You squirm as his mouth makes its way to your pussy. He slides a finger in you as he licks and sucks. You reach down and gather his hair into your hands, pushing him closer and grinding against his mouth, coming harder than you’ve ever come. the world fades away and you’re suspended in pure ecstasy. The straight line you’ve followed your whole life has twisted into something wonderful. You open your eyes and look down at the smirking man between your thighs.

The thing about twisting lines is that they never stay going the same trajectory, they curve back again suddenly forcing you to hold on while life crashes into another lane. You’re brought back to reality when he flips you over and enters you roughly. You cry out in pain but he doesn’t slow down. He slaps your ass and pushes on your back until your chest falls down.

“I’m Loki.” He says as he comes in you.

He gets off of you and you scramble up, covering yourself in a blanket and looking at him with wide eyes. He crouches in front of you, running a finger down your cheek.

“We’re going to have so much fun.”

You blink back tears.

“I don’t understand, why me? I’m so... average.”

Loki cocks his head to the side. You try to look away and he grabs your face and squeezes until you look at him.

“There’s no such thing darling, you’re perfect in every way.”

He reaches between your legs, cupping your pussy.

You think about running but the way he looks at you tells you that he knows exactly what you’re thinking. He silently communicates to you that running away from him again will only lead to pain.

“Sleep now.” He says.

“I’m no...” you black out.

When you wake up you’re in a car, hands bound together with Loki in the driver's seat. He takes you to Stark tower and leads you through a private entrance and up to the avengers private living quarters.

“Loki, what did you do?” Tony says.

“I found one that I liked so I took her.”

Loki pushes you onto the couch and you look around at the Avengers, all of whom sit with beautiful women. They give you sad looks and you hold back tears as you realize that nobody will help you.

“Fuck!” Tony says

“I thought we were kidnapping women?”

“You weren’t supposed to just snatch one. Now there’s a whole mess to clean up.”

“Thor just took his.” Loki says

“He has a point.” Sam says.

“Thor had that whole betrothal thing.” Tony holds the bridge of his nose.

“Touche.” Loki shrugs.

You make eye contact with a woman who stands at the entrance to the room, obviously shocked. She’s not part of this, you realize, she’s here by mistake. You mouth “run” and she takes off. Loki sits next to you and kisses your neck.

“It seems we’ve been noticed, a maid I think.” Loki yawns.

“I’ll have to send someone to take her out. It’s sad, I really liked her,” Tony sighs.

The room is silent for a moment while the weight of Tony's words flow through everyone.

“I’ll take her, I want to keep her,” Bucky announces.

“Really Buck?” Steve raises his eyebrows.

“He’s always had a thing for her, he’s just too shy to act on it.” Natasha says

“Okay, go now Bucky. I guess we have two disappearances to cover now. I'll be in my office if anyone needs me.”

Tony stands up to leave and you push gently against Loki’s suffocating embrace.

You’ve always been a fan of the Avengers, so grateful to them for everything they’ve done for humanity. You want to throw up now. You look around at the room full of beautiful women, all so different from each other and realize that Loki was right, there’s no such thing as average. All your life you’ve felt the same as every other person, unremarkable and boring. As you look around at the absolutely gorgeous women you recognize that they’re you and you’re them. You didn’t do anything to get here and neither did they but here you sit. You’re not average because everyone is, and if everyone is average then no one is.

You’re different from each other in a complex and mysterious way but also mirror each other like twins.

Synonyms.

#dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #dark!Avengers #dark!mcu

353 notes · View notes

moonyblackwerewolf · 4 years ago

Text

Betrothed Ch. 1 - Sirius Black

Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.653

Summary: Sirius and Y/N meet at a family dinner and have some fun, later she finds out she is betrothed to some pureblood boy so Sirius comes up with a mental idea to save them both.

warnings: Kissing, hints of sex, 'aggressive' parents, underage drinking, idk my writing and English? lol

a/n: so this is just an idea for a possible series!! i never published anything before so i’m kind of scared but i really hope you like it!! :) xxx

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch. 2.5 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch. 5

(not my gif)

Diner party

The Royal Manor of Watson was a cold palace, stone walls, rich decorations, sumptuous, but intimidating. The Watsons were cold people, living in a house too big for five people, but Y/N thought it was only fitting, since her parent’s ego was as big as the manor itself. Their pureblood mania deep in their minds, untouchable, which made their daughter’s life miserable. They were the perfect family on the outside but rotten in the inside, three children, Diana, two years older than Y/N, beautiful, smart and most importantly just as purist as their parents and William, tall, handsome, sophisticate and serious, he was the older sibling, three years older than Diana, he was already working with their father on the Ministry of Magic, daddy’s favourite. Home was big, impressive, a dream home if you saw it, libraries, uncountable bedrooms and living rooms, ball rooms, huge gardens, and everything you could ask for but it was far from being a welcoming home.

Though, all of her miserableness went away once she first went to Hogwarts. Of course, being sorted in Slytherin and having good grades was minimal when it came to living up to her parents’s expectations, which were high and if not complied there would most certainly have severe consequences, but still Hogwarts was more of a Home than the Watson Manor ever was.

Throughout the years, Hogwarts had become her first true home. There she felt the warm winds, the familiar feeling in the great halls, friendships, all she ever hoped for was there, a home, but not quite yet. She met Elizabeth Greengrass a blonde, tall thin girl with deep grey eyes and enviable beauty, Katherine Abbott who looked almost like Diana, but shorter, longer darker hair, blue-green eyes and thiner face. The three girls became best friends right after being sorted into Slytherin. Later on her second year she met Elijah Lestrange, through her sister, he was a year older, handsome and had a polite appearance. Y/N loved her friends but they shared the same blind beliefs her parents do, she’d always nod when they talked about mudblood, choosing not to create conflict, she couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, her parents couldn't disagree more, controlling they way they were, they were more than satisfied to know that their daughter’s inner circle contained only close family friends’s children.

The Marauders were quite famous for their pranks since first year, Y/N always admired their courage and wit, but her siblings and friends didn’t share the same opinion. When she was around them she’d always get a look from her sister, her brother or her friends would push her away, which only made them more interesting. Although, with time, she stopped trying and just kept living her life the way her family wanted her to.

Until summer break before 5th year, at least.

By then Sirius had already gained his bad boy reputation. Y/N had known Black for a long time, only by sight, his family was friends with hers and his cousin, Narcissa, hangs out with her sister, she’d see him in the pureblood elite parties they were forced to attend, they’d exchange glances but never talked. Sirius was once again being forced to go to some snobby party from snobby people. He couldn’t count in a thousand hands how many other places he’d rather be, but there he was sitting in a huge room full of people he despised, until a certain girl he recognised from other dinner parties and Hogwarts caught his attention, she was Remus’ partner in DADA, though he wasn’t sure, he never paid much attention in classes, pranking the student body was much more entertaining.

She caught his eye from a couch across the room. She was stunning, he thought, her slightly wavy H/C hair matching her S/C skin, freckled rosy cheeks and her alluring E/C eyes. Sirius only hoping she was different from the other brainwashed people in that house.

“Hey” Sirius said softly while he approached the girl that was, apparently, just as bored as he was, to his luck. “Not your scene, love?” He asked with his signature smirk on his face, wanting some good company for once at these afternoons.

“Not really” she chuckled, not knowing exactly what else to say, they weren’t close and she was a bit shy. But she was being honest, these parties were hell, full of families who thought too much of themselves, she didn't feel much like them, but she could fit in she was quiet and not nearly as loud as Sirius was about her beliefs. No one knew.

“By any chance would you know whose death palace are we on? I mean it’s huge but it looks like Salazar himself lived here, it gives me the creeps” he paused laughing “and my house it’s not a Hufflepuff common room or anything” Sirius said mockingly, not knowing exactly who he was talking with.

“Well” she chuckled awkwardly “It is my parents’, but i know, it’s not very homey, looks like a dark theatre or something and Salazar did live here, family heirloom” she laughed for real this time, she didn’t take it as an offence, if anything she couldn’t agree more.

“How come we never crossed each others path before?” Sirius asked wondering why they never talked on one of those parties or at school.

“I guess I usually just stay in the corners, like today” she chuckled.

The two of them bonded after talking for a while, they discovered that both of them hated these things, Sirius couldn't get how she managed to hide her feelings so well, she looked so much like them. After laughing, talking about school, Sirius was a part of the infamous marauders, telling stories and joking around, for the first time any of them could think of, they had fun in a family party, since Sirius’ friends weren’t pureblood except for Potter but his family had been banished from the sacred twenty-eight for being “blood traitors” and Y/N’s friends’ parents kept them at their side the whole time for “good image”.

Y/N stole a bottle of fire whiskey from the cellar and started showing the house to Sirius, while the two of them drank more than their bodies could handle, who was just as pleased as her for making fun of the paintings and carpets and the fancy but useless stuff their families valued so much. As they entered a room, particularly big and empty, Sirius had to catch his breath, Y/N and him started running through the halls before entering the room they were now on. He had only now realised that he had grabbed her hand, and apparently she hadn’t noticed until now too, making her blush furiously, releasing each other’s hand quickly and Sirius teased.

“getting comfy are we?” He smirked, as she blushed at his comment. They were very close, he could feel her breath catching. “Where would we be now, love?” He asked inching closer to her.

The both teenagers weren’t thinking straight anymore, the alcohol in their system already influencing their emotions. All they could think about, was how their touch felt electrical and the magnetic pull they were feeling towards each other, wondering how would their lips feel like. They just wanted to have fun, not caring about consequences that moment.

“Ball room” she said innocently but still a bit teasingly, not backing away from him as he inched closer to her “East wing, third floor, far away from where the party is going on, on the first floor” she bit her lip “But still very close to a room-” she said boldly wanting to see his reaction to her suggestions “-two doors away near a window at the end of the hall next to a beautiful painting of my favourite flowers” she said voice husky and breathy, making Sirius groan.

He chuckled low, “And may I ask you whose room is that?” They were now so close that their lips were slightly brushing.

“Why don’t you take me there and see for yourself” she said feeling a flip on her stomach and with a swift motion he lift her up bridal style, making her shiver at the contact, but then laughed, his hand gripping her body and legs tightly as he followed her instructions to get to her room. Once there, he settled her down on her bed and admired the girl in front of him, lust in his eyes. She smiled and bit her lip, she knew Sirius’ reputation, only one night stands, he was a ladies man, but she didn’t care, she wanted him, the fact that her mother would murder her if she ever found out only made it all more exciting.

Sirius took a look at the room, it wasn’t dark as the rest of the house was, it was still sophisticated, but nicer, the detailed wood on the wall was white and, above, the wall it self was light lilac, the room had big windows covered by delicate curtains and even had a balcony, and everything matched between the lilac and whites tones, she had a few paintings and pictures, and flowers, probably fake but still beautiful, the same flowers as on the darker painting outside, her four poster bed that matched the couches by the windows had delicate semi transparent white curtains and her silk white sheets were under a soft lilac blanket, she had a lot of silk pillows with subtle embroidered details on the corners, it was certainly appealing he thought, a beautiful room fit for a princess. Then he was brought back to reality.

“Do you think our parents are wondering where we are?” He asked with a still semi amazed look, it made her laugh, she patted the sheets next to her, inviting him to sit, he sat closely to her and then suddenly she went to the middle of the bed, which was big, pushing his wrists and they sat there, her legs crossed.

“They probably are” she affirmed giggly, she hadn't let his wrists go yet, she was holding it gently. “But, they won’t find us here, even though it’s pretty obvious that i’d hide in my room. Mom and dad wouldn’t leave the party” She paused and laughed “And well your parents certainly won’t come up here to my room i guess” He chuckled at her commentary.

“Well, well, miss perfect pureblood daughter escaping a dinner-party with the rebel Black son, who’d have thought” Sirius said dramatically, she laughed at him.

“Guess this Black here is just a bad influence on me, or… I just put on a good facade” she said more serious this time, voice low, eyes fixated on his. Her hand tracing their way up his arm, his gaze fixed on her movements. “And the fact that if mommy finds out i brought a guy to my room, and that he’s in my bed with me, would make her go crazy, only turns me on” Sirius let a little breathy moan escape his throat.

When Sirius looked at her she was already looking at him, lust all over her eyes. He trailed off just a little and asked, voice low “Y/N… are you sure you want this?” She nodded so he grabbed her waist and pulled her to his lap, he was holding her waist, lips brushing, he finally kissed her, the kiss felt electrical, it was slow and passionate at first but then I grew more heated. One of her hands was wrapped in his neck, the other was holding his chest going slowly lower, he was pulling her impossibly closer, the both couldn't get enough of each other. They had to pause for catching a breath, in the mean time Sirius leant over pushing Y/N down onto bed earning a tiny moan form her. They started kissing again, but this time was less passionate, more lustful and heated, Sirius started fiddling with her dress’ zipper and took it off slowly, undressing her, tracing kisses in each piece of newly exposed skin until she was only in her underwear, She, then, pushed his blazer off then started unbuttoning his shirt while kissing and sucking his neck making him moan. Once they were both in their underwear Sirius looked at her searching for a final consent, when she nodded, he took the rest of their clothes off.

“What do you want princess?” He asked kissing his way down from her cheek, to her jaw, neck, breasts and she moaned a little louder, the nickname turned her on even more. “Hmm??” He groaned waiting for her answer. “I want to her you say it”

“I… want you” she said between moans, after that she pulled his boxers down kissing him desperately, waiting to feel him against her in the most intimate way possible, the feeling was ethereal.

——————————

They laid in her bed legs tangled under the silk sheets, her head laid in his chest, his hands caressing her back while the other wrapped around her waist pulling her closer, making her shiver, the both of them catching their breaths while he stroke figure eights on her back inhaling her delicate floral floral scent. It felt heavenly to be there by his side, neither of them wanting to let go of one another, enjoying every moment before reality came back to them, but they knew they’ve been gone for too long, the party was probably ending.

“Sirius” she said voice as low as a whisper “This was nice” he smiled at her and pulled her to a kiss.

“Yes, it’s nice to have some fun in these events, and you love, are the most fun I could've had today” he said trailing his hand on her lower back “I mean, this is certainly the best place my parents could’ve dragged me to”. It made her chuckle. He never thought he’d fuck a girl his mother would approve and in one of their elite parties, but here he was, proof that Sirius Black always managed to corrupt girls, anywhere.

“Glad you liked it then” she said chuckling while she buried her head in his neck. But they couldn’t go on with this any longer. “You should go first” she said “Your parents are probably looking for you and it would be suspicious if we showed up together” she advised “Since the fact that we’re both missing from the party is already very much suspicious” she said laughing this time.

“Sure, love” he helped her get dressed before dressing himself and gave one last peck on her lips before getting out of bed. “See you” with a wink and that signature smile of his, he left, leaving her there with her thoughts about the events of this evening and the captivating boy, while rubbing her hands lightly where he left love bites on her neck, knowing she’d have trouble walking tomorrow and a bad headache from all the drinking. She decided it was best if she took a shower, changed into her pyjamas and if her parents show up there, she’d say she wasn't feeling well and wanted to sleep.

On his way back Sirius kept thinking about Y/N and how much they’re alike, she was the only nice person he met in one of those parties, she was a good kisser too. Starting to get confused on why he was thinking so much about the girl and the strange feeling she caused on him, but then assumed it was because of all the drinking, he didn't realise his mother, father and brother were waiting for him in the foyer and their faces weren’t kind, he knew it’d be a long night back home. But he didn’t care his only thoughts were about going back to Hogwarts and seeing her again.

256 notes · View notes

paperpocalypse · 4 years ago

Text

duty.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 13. Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Aristocrat!Reader

Word Count: 2,407 words

Warning: Wonky and inaccurate aristocrat/rich people politics and marrying young because of it, please bear with me

[A/N: No powers!Historical!AU]

The elegance of the Hargreeves estate is of the dark, academic sort – polished, reserved, all sharp lines and dim lighting and old books – and you’d feel quite intimidated by it if you were any less acquainted with its occupants. You and your sister always look out of place when you visit, bright splotches of summer color roaming the narrow, perpetually autumnal hallways; and when congregating with the siblings in the library or outside, any visitor could glance at your merry group and immediately tell apart the hosts and the guests.

It’s all a reflection of your respective parents, really – if you had any say in how you presented yourself, it certainly wouldn’t be in the vivid, youthful hues of your mother’s choosing, and you’re sure that some of the others have similar sentiments.

Because while your family and Five’s family are certainly different in some ways, their respective heads are both pretty damn suffocating.

“Looks like it’s a draw.”

You grunt, displeased, and collapse back in your chair, bundling up in your blanket. “Can’t take a loss, can you, Five?”

“Not if I can help it,” he answers. His frown and crossed arms speak to his dissatisfaction with the result; losing is never an option, but clear-cut victories are always better than a draw. “Want to play again?”

The suggestion is tempting. Very tempting. You reach out and pick up your king, feeling the cold, smooth marble against the pads of your fingertips, and purse your lips in thought. Your eyes flick up briefly to meet Five’s.

Oh.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you finally say, putting the piece down. “I’m getting a bit tired.”

Five studies you for a moment, head tilting in that particular, scrutinizing way of his. Then his expression smooths out and he nods.

After putting the pieces back into place, the two of you exit the warmth of the library and head towards the guest wing. The walk is silent; you keep your borrowed blanket wrapped snugly around your shoulders, the bottom dragging across the perfect, wooden floor as you look at the paintings hung along the wall. They’re landscapes, mostly – of dark green forests; cold, still oceans; blue-grey mountains shrouded in mist. Impersonal and very fitting for the tastes of Five’s father, that’s for sure.

When you reach your room, you smile at your companion, and it feels unnaturally polite. “Well, goodnight, Five.”

“Goodnight.”

The boy turns and strolls back down the hallway, and you wait until he disappears around the corner, chewing on your bottom lip, before pushing the door open to enter your room.

“You two are duller than an ashtray. 'Goodnight’?”

“Sh –” you bite back an expletive, whipping around to glare at the intruder on your bed. “Lila, go back to your own room!”

Your sister just stares at you from her upside-down position, arms and legs splayed out as she smiles. “You still haven’t talked about it, have you?”

“We don’t need to,” you snap back quietly, closing the door as quickly as you can without slamming it. “He understands it as well as you and I do.”

“You realize Mum never said you’ll have to marry the guy.”

“Of course not; she just strongly suggested it.”

“Still not an order.”

Her flippancy causes you to glare. “Lord Harold is rich and he’s willing –"

“He’s a massive creep,” she interrupts, giving you an incredulous look. “And you just came of age, [Y/n]. You’ll be miserable.”

“I can get it annulled after five years, remember?”

“You’re really going to last for five years?”

She’s trying to pull something out of you, you know it. You try to maintain your composure.

“A massive debt isn’t going to just disappear,” you repeat. “It was either him or Lady Helen, and Helen got betrothed last month. Harold’s the quickest way to fix it, in case you forgot.”

“And in case you forgot, it’s literally not your problem. Stop making a martyr of yourself when you don’t have to.” Lila sits up and swivels around to face you, crossing her legs. Her expression is expectant. “I’ll figure something out, so don’t throw a fit, alright? The debt’s going to be mine along with the estate. You can afford to disappoint Mum for once in your life.”

Your brow furrows. “Lila –”

“If you keep arguing, I’m going to smother you with a pillow,” she says. “Either you agree with me, or you tell your future love affair that you’re marrying a human toad in the spring.”

“Future lo – it’s not like that! We’re friends!”

Lila holds your indignant gaze. Then, with practiced, unladylike ease, she hops off your bed, puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows at you.

“You have the worst case of denial I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” she says.

“I’m being completely honest,” you retort hotly. And you are. You and Five are friends, and although the nature of your relationship is admittedly more comfortable than any other friendship you’ve had over the years, nothing between you and Five had ever been non-platonic.

(Not that you would mind something non-platonic – but as you’ve reiterated to Lila many, many times, you’re just as content being friends. Having a genuine, close companion in your world is rare, and you’re tired of everyone deciding what you and Five should be when the two of you are more than capable of figuring it out for yourselves.)

“Why do you care, anyway? Everything will be easier for you if I marry Harold.”

“And more miserable for you.” She lets her arms fall to her sides. “Look, I’m the oldest, so I’m supposed to be the miserable one, not you. It’s not the end of the world if you don’t marry Harold. Give yourself more time to grow up.”

You don’t know what to say.

Seemingly finished with her piece, Lila smiles before brushing past you, nudging your blanket to the side on her way to the door. You glance away when she looks over her shoulder at you.

“Sleep on it.”

… You do, though it’s a lot less sleep than you’d hoped.

—

The next morning is slow and lazy. It’s a good thing in your opinion, because as mentioned before, you had spent a great deal of the night thinking about what your sister had said, and your head feels quite foggy as a result. A cup of tea and a horse ride with everyone outside in the snow both help somewhat over the course of the day. However, by the time the sky begins to darken, you’re back in your room to take a nap before supper, and quickly return thereafter.

When you hear three quick raps on your door, you groan and drag yourself out of bed.

“Lila,” you grumble as you turn the knob and pull, “can’t you go bother Diego instead –”

You swallow your words when you see your actual visitor. Five gives you a brief, tight-lipped smile.

“Mind if I come in?”

“Uh,” you respond intelligently, then shake your head and step to the side, remembering your manners. “Of course.”

Five walks in and heads towards the window. You go to the couch nearby and sit down, slightly perplexed as he finds an interest in the candle burning on the sill – he’s welcome to hang around in here, certainly, but the two of you usually convene in his room or the library. The guest room doesn’t have much to offer in terms of entertainment.

In due time, the boy turns away from the frost-covered window and joins you on the couch.

“Your sister said you weren’t feeling well,” is all he says.

So that’s why he’s here. Shrugging, you put your hands in your lap, fiddling with the family ring on your middle finger. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

Your lackluster explanation isn’t enough, if his short, replying hum is anything to go by. Five leans forward, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. And what else? he seems to say.

“It’s … It’s just been a busy year, with Lila and me coming of age and all. More responsibilities and expectations, and all that,” you eventually continue, staring down at the thick, luxurious carpet at your feet. “Though I don’t have much of a right to complain. Lila’s bearing most of the pressure, since she’s the heir apparent …”

“She doesn’t seem too bothered,” Five points out, tone bland.

You allow yourself to grin. “Because we’re on vacation. Five, if you saw Lila this summer, you would’ve seen how hard she’s been working.” Not to mention all of the proposals that she had so graciously shot down, on account of her veto power and general distaste for marriage. “Honestly, the two of you have a lot in common and I don’t know why you butt heads so often.”

“I have my reasons.”

At that cryptic snark, you reach out and gain purchase on his hair, ruffling it in righteous revenge. Five grunts half-heartedly, elbowing you away. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth and you almost feel like this conversation is going to be normal – that is, as normal as it gets with a Hargreeves.

(His hair is very soft. You feel bad for messing it up, so you attempt to smooth it back into its original state; about a minute into that attempt you realize what you’re actually doing and withdraw. You shouldn’t be so improper.)

Do you have to do this?

You decide to pay the piper before you can talk yourself out of it. “You know,” you say when the joviality fades, “she’s the one who suggested that I talk to you. About my possible betrothal.”

Five’s expression flattens. He looks straight ahead again, resting his elbows on his knees. “What is there to talk about?”

“Well, you’re my closest friend and one of the smartest people I know, so I ought to ask for your opinion on the possibility of …” You reconsider for one final moment, then inhale deeply and let it out. “Of me refusing Lord Harold’s offer.”

To your slight surprise, Five nods.

“Did you talk to your mother about it?” he questions.

“Not yet,” you murmur. “To be honest, I’ve been thinking about it for months, but I only started seriously considering it last night. And now I really don’t want to marry Lord Harold. He unsettles me and I’m not ready.”

He frowns. “Neither of them is going to accept that as a reason.”

“I know.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “They’ll kick up a fuss over finances and it’ll be a bit of a scandal. That’s why I’m asking for your advice.”

Being the pragmatist that he is, you had thought that Five would be more averse to your plan. He himself had done things that he did not want to do in order to help his siblings, so you had assumed that despite his immediate dislike of Lord Harold since the night of your coming-of-age celebration, Five would tell you to endure a few years with the noble before disposing of him and collecting your dues. It’s the easiest way to get what you and your family needed, after all.

The fact that he’s so accepting of your decision makes you curious …

“First of all, even if he recognizes your refusal – and you’ll probably have a hard time with that, which will be an issue all on its own – your mother will try to find someone else to ship you off to,” he states, eyebrows pinched. “Preferably within the next year or so, right?”

“Yes.”

“How likely is she to push back your marriage by a few years?”

“… Not very likely,” you admit.

The boy pauses, thinking, then sits back.

“I could propose to you,” he offers, “if you’d like.”

You accidentally laugh out loud, you’re so taken aback. Five? Proposing? “Come again?”

“You heard me the first time.”

“We’re practically penniless. Would your father even give his blessing?”

He rolls his eyes. “Penniless or not, you’re an aristocrat with a title. If nothing else, Dad will accept that.”

“Neither of us want to get married.”

“And yet it’s your most realistic option thus far.” Five pins you with a serious gaze, and it finally hits you that he’s genuinely, actually asking. “Are you okay with it or not?”

“I …” You fumble over your words, staring at Five with wide eyes. “I mean, yes, I’d be okay with that, but … are you sure? You’d marry me just to get me out of another marriage?”

(Your question is not born of a doubt that he’ll go through with it. Five is a person of his word. But this is a big deal, and you’re both young, and most importantly of all, you don’t want this to be a mistake.)

“Let’s just say that I’d rather it be you than anyone else,” he mutters, shrugging softly. “This is your back-up plan, anyway. And if the marriage goes sideways, we can have it annulled after a few years and you’ll get a settlement too.”

He says it as if he’s discussing the weather. You chuckle, inexplicably reassured and amused by his bluntness. “Not even ten minutes into your proposal and you’re already thinking about an annulment? I fear for our future, Five.”

“There are worse things to be afraid of,” he replies sardonically. “Bring it up with your mom when you go back. If you can’t get out of a marriage, write me and I’ll talk to my dad.”

“Alright. You should bring Allison with you, though.”

“I suggest the same with Lila. Make it convincing.”

That won’t be too difficult. You nod, and with that, the deal seems to be sealed. Although you’re still processing what just happened, and Five is likely realizing just what he and you are potentially getting yourselves into, the two of you share a small smile nonetheless. It is hard not to.

“Thank you,” you murmur after a while.

Five glances over at your hands, then down at his. “Don't thank me yet."

"Alright, then. If you insist."

As your friend twists the steel ring on his index finger, you think to yourself, yes, you do want more time to grow up. But if the world won’t give that to you, you figure that a life with Five would be the next best thing.

258 notes · View notes