#i could have sworn i had a tag for that au

[xechu]

Dark Requiem

pairing: deity!sukuna x fem!reader wc: 1.9k cw: 18+ mdni. please read my blog rules before interacting. dark themes, power imbalance, near-asphyxiation, implied violence, psychological tension, non-traditional intimacy, forced-kiss scenario tag: drabble-ish, short one-shot, dark fantasy, dark divinity au summary: with no other choice, you turn to a god that was only supposed to exist in bedtime stories. a/n: a tiny spur of inspiration. I've been having writer's block lately. Thank you for reading and enjoy! x

Ask and thou shall receive.

But only at the price of thy soul—willingly offered, never begged for.

He was no saint, no righteous wish granter. He only spoke in contracts and vows.

Time and time again, it had always been the same—humans were proven to be so greedy and fickle. Wanting everything. Sacrificing nothing.

Did they not know? Great things come at an even greater cost?

Sukuna was generous, unlike many other false gods. He had allowed the vowed to revel in their blessings, if only for a while—before coming to collect the price they had dared to forget.

Yet, it was always the same. When it was time to reap—they immediately wallow in regret. Some even try to outsmart their giver and defy the oath they had sworn.

But Sukuna was no fool. He had not endured the turning of millennia by being daft. In the end, he had always found a way to claim what was promised.

And for those who resisted or tried to shirk their obligations, Sukuna reserved a special place in the afterlife for them—condemned to a lifetime of glorious torture and suffering. A place where they wished they had surrendered their soul sooner. Their cries for mercy are a symphony to his ears.

At the sound of the dark cathedral doors creaking open, he watches as his next contract comes through.

A tiny and timid thing: you.

You had heard whispers of a disgraced and banished god—primordial and cruel. Supposedly, he had once dwelled in this abandoned cathedral. For his arrogance and trickery, he was sealed within these thick stones and cold shadows. They said he would pluck children from their homes and eat them, trick fair maidens into offering their purity and virtue, and prey on men for their vitality.

Ryomen Sukuna was described as disgraceful. Deceitful. Glutinous. Cruel. Sadistic.

But it mattered not.

You had not come for salvation, nor redemption.

Only condemnation.

Because it was better to be condemned than to bow beneath a crueler fate.

“I have come to offer myself to you, Ryomen Sukuna,” you said. Despite the grimness of your situation, your voice was soft—but assured.

Standing among these ruins of darkness, rubble, and dust—there was nothing. Only a deafening and oppressive silence. It was quiet, so much so that you could hear the static hum in your own ears.

You wryly scoff to yourself. What had you expected? This was nothing more than fiction. A tale spun to frighten misbehaving children into obedience. And yet, you clung to this bedtime story like scripture. Because what else did you have left?

Then, as hope was about to fade, the moonlight shifted—spilling through the shattered cathedral window like a divine message from the night goddess herself. And there, before you, it illuminated an obsidian statue. Large. Imposing. Watching.

It radiated dark allure, beckoning you to come forth.

To reach out.

Only if you dared.

It felt as though phantom tendrils had begun to snake around your body the moment you locked eyes with the statue—a towering figure, chiseled like a fallen god. Even seated upon a throne of thorns, he felt impossibly tall, impossibly vast. There was a pull. Heavy. Magnetic. Inevitable. Your feet moved toward him, slowly but surely, as if being summoned.

Above you, the long-extinguished black chandelier creaked in protest—its rusted arms swaying with a voice of their own. An eerie warning: Proceed with caution.

You were about to reach a point of no return.

But you steeled yourself, letting instinct guide you, submitting to the darkness before you—for that was what you had desired.

Nothingness. Absolution.

As you ascended, each step reforged your certainty—until at last, you stood before him.

Your mind tells you to not be afraid, but your body trembles, as if it knew you stood before a god. Every fiber instinctively knew to revere, to worship, to submit.

“Sukuna.” His name slipped from your lips, a soft whisper. “I have an offer.”

Once more, you were met with silence. Yet, if this was merely a myth—why did your nerves scream to run?

“Please.” Your voice cracked, laced with desperation. Your heart began to pound. The internal warning becoming louder by each passing moment. “I will give you all that I have to offer.”

Then, suddenly, a crack split the sky. Thunder—loud and rumbling—reverberated so close it felt as though it had struck directly above you. You flinched, instinct to flee immediately kicking in. But before you could run, a large, stony grip closed around your wrist, rooting you in place. Your breath caught in your throat.

Stone became flesh. 

And staring back into your wide, terrified eyes were his—crimson, burning with the intensity and heat of hellfire.

His touch seared into your skin, a brand scorching into you. Around you, the long-dead candles of the cathedral simultaneously blazed to life. But they did not burn with their usual amber hues.

Crimson like blood.

It was the embers of hell.

“Have you suddenly lost the tongue to speak?” His voice boomed.

“I—” The words elude you. Fear gripped at your throat, as you come face to face with Sukuna himself.

“I implore you to find your words promptly,” he hissed, his grip tightening. “Before I silence you for good.”

“I-I have an offer to make with you, Sukuna.”

“Yes, and I have heard that one too many times from you. Are you broken?”

You shook your head. But it only seemed to enrage him further.

“So then speak,” he growled. Impatience lacing his voice. “What is it that you have to offer me?”

You met his burning gaze.

“I shall give you my soul—in exchange for nothing.”

For a moment, he fell silent.

Then he released your wrist. To your surprise, he left no marks behind—no burns, no bruises, not even a trace. Around you, the flames in the cathedral calmed, flickering softly back to their usual amber glow.

A low sigh rumbled from his chest, as if completely underwhelmed and disappointed by your proposal.

“Leave,” Sukuna said coldly.

It was part of the divine restriction. A strict decree written into the very laws of his existence. He could not ask for a soul outside the bounds of a contract. He could not take without giving something in return. Death was not an acceptable clause. And above all, he was forbidden from ever mentioning the restrictions. To do so would be seen as influencing choice and corrupting the offering.

You blinked a few times, eyes wide in disbelief.

He rejected your offer.

Was that possible?

You had thought your offer would be rather appealing. But more importantly, your life had depended on him taking you. Walking away was not an option.

“N-no!” You collapsed to your knees. “Please, take me…if not my soul.”

He stared down at you, expressionless.

“You are a rather dense and insolent little thing,” he snarled.

In a flash, his hand wrapped around your throat, harshly pulling you upward until your gaze was locked with his. Dark violence surged through him—to crush, to silence, to smother the defiance trembling in your voice.

You gasped for air as his hand constricted your airway unable to speak, unable to voice your defense. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as your comparatively small hands clawed feebly at his—a silent, instinctive plea for mercy.

A chill of excitement ran down Sukuna’s spine, at the sight of your struggle. The way you callously sign away your life…only to claw at it now.

Desperate. Pathetic. Human.

That selfish desire to live. To survive. It was the very trait he had come to despise. But in you…it intrigued him.

“Do not play me a fool. No one gives up their soul for nothing,” he said lowly.

You couldn’t answer. Your throat burned, your mind slipping into static. The world around you spun, and the corners of your vision began to darken, collapsing inwards.

Just as you thought he had granted you death—his grip released. Air. He drops you onto the stone cold floor by his feet. You crumple up, as your lungs violently convulse in broken gasps for air. But no matter how you fought to breathe, it seemed your lungs had forgotten how. Your breaths shallow and irregular. Failing.

“Weak,” Sukuna muttered, irritation lacing his voice.

Without warning, he scooped you up like a ragdoll, your limbs limp in his grasp. He sat down with you sprawled across his lap, one hand tilting your chin up.

And then, he crushed his lips to yours. Not in hunger. Not in lust.

But to breathe air into you.

Life flickered back into your eyes. As your gaze met his, Sukuna felt something coil dark and low in his gut. A sick pleasure. A thrill. A hunger.

But his hubris would never allow him to beg—divine restriction or not.

So instead, he would plant the seed. Water the thought. Nurture the desire. Until you were the one to offer it. Willingly.

“You should have let me go,” you whispered. Those were the first words you managed to speak.

Sukuna tilted his head, eyes glinting.

“But that is not what your body says.”

His sharp black nails scrape across your pulse—strong, alive.

“So tell me,” he purred. “What is it you truly desire?”

You did not hesitate. “I desire the freedom of death.”

Sukuna scoffed.

“Not good enough.”

Again, for the small and insignificant thing you were, you were irritatingly persistent. Had he not been bound by the laws of the universe, he would have claimed your soul long ago and savored the ruin of it.

He would have made you scream. 

Beg. 

Break.

And just as death reached for you—when that final stillness settled in your gaze, and you thought you had earned peace—he would have taken it all away. Simply because he could.

He wanted your pain. Your desperation. Your submission to your own hypocrisy.

He wanted to see you unravel. To witness the exact moment you realized you had betrayed your morals, your body, your heart, your dignity.

Even now—barely breathing—you wore that pathetic mask of defiance.

“If you cannot take my soul…then allow me to stay here. That is all I ask,” you said softly.

“That is all you ask?” he repeated, voice curling into a mockery.

“Please,” you breathed. “I have nowhere else to go.”

Sukuna regarded you in silence for a moment, his expression apathetic.

“I am no charitable god,” he said. “What will you offer me?”

Your eyes narrowed. If he did not want your soul, what else did you have to offer?

You felt pathetic. Your dignity shattered. You had walked through the doors thinking your offer would be enticing. That Sukuna, of all beings, would accept it without question.

Alas, your wretched soul was not even worthy of condemnation.

“Then tell me—what is it that you want?”

“What will you offer?” He asked again, voice low, quiet, and insistent. Yet, you still could not understand why.

“Please,” you whispered. “Reconsider it, Sukuna.”

You swallowed hard. Your body screamed to run—a final warning that you were treading dangerous waters. But you did not listen.

“My soul…for your shelter and protection.” Your trembling hands rose to his chest, fingers barely brushing the stone-cold flesh. “Please.”

His eyes darkened.

“Then let this vow be binding,” he said.

And then—he crushed his lips onto yours once more. Not to save. Not to silence. 

But to bind.

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.

Graphic divider source: here via @/troublesomesnitch

[shih-coulda-had-it]

༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

I can't stop imagining what Nanahiko would look like in genderbend ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

Tall woman!Sorahiko and male!Nana, loving his tall wife ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

my biggest belief in genderbent nanahiko is that they do have to retain certain qualities. in other words:

sora(hiko) dresses masc, has a butch haircut, and does not play well as an adoptive mother. this woman IS going to beat up the teenager in the name of training, and she IS going to be that granny torino who beats up the grand-student.

nana (in an incredibly self-indulgent AU that @thisauthorisscreaming and i developed, nana's name is shichi) still has longer hair, has the chest of any self-respecting gymrat, and remains, out of all the one for all holders, the canonical fucker

[astonmartinii]

day five: santa community service | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem single mum!reader

max swore in a press conference and now he's a mall santa with an itchy beard

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 893,092 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: don't swear kids.... on a serious note, i had so much fun meeting the amazing kids of amsterdam (and delivering some gifts)

view all comments

user2: ummmmmm who is that woman ????

user3: that's what you've taken away from FOUR TIME WORLD CHAMPION MAX VERSTAPPEN BEING A MALL SANTA IN PUNISHMENT FOR SAYING FUCK

user4: ummmm yeah she's snug as a bug in a rug in the back of max's car that's REAL FUCKING INTERESTING

landonorris: why no picture of you as santa... pussy

maxverstappen1: gotta leave some girls for you haven't i mate?

landonorris: well by the looks of the third slide you've already got a girl so it's free range for me right?

maxverstappen1: third slide?

maxverstappen1: OH FUCK

maxverstappen1: she's never going to speak to me again now

landonorris: well you've just sworn again so maybe you'll get more community service and meet her again

maxverstappen1: i'm not dumb i got her number but like now she's going to see this and think i'm a freak :(

landonorris: you'll have to whip out that max verstappen charm again i guess

maxverstappen1: life is a prison

user5: NO ONE POST THE PICTURES OF MAX WITH THE KIDS IT WILL DO IRREPARABLE DAMAGE TO MY OVARIES

user6: i need dad max more than air at this point

danielricciardo: what is this depression session in the comment section maximus - you're a catch even with the creepy instagram etiquette

maxverstappen1: i had to do so much work to convince i wasn't a dork while in a FULL SANTA COSTUME and now i'm not even at step one i'm at step minus 100000000

danielricciardo: that's not very christmas spirit of you maxie

maxverstappen1: life is unfortunately not a hallmark movie so like she'll be a normal person, see that i've posted a pic of her sleeping to my 13 million followers and run for the hills

danielricciardo: okay humble brag

maxverstappen1: DANIEL HELP

danielricciardo: i think you'll be just fine

maxverstappen1: well thanks for nothing - USELESS

user7: oh so max gets generational headloss in all settings

user8: he's so real for that tho

user9: if this doesn't sort itself out i pray for george russell

georgerussell63: ???

user10: he is going to take it out on you ❤️

georgerussell63: oh fuck

maxverstappen1: @fia get him

yourusername

liked by landonorris, user11 and 2,457 others

yourusername: went for the mall santa and met her hero, how will i ever top this now?

view all comments

user12: FOUND YOU

yourusername: this is very creepy who are you

user12: oh i'm just a humble f1 fan who watched max verstappen crash out over thinking he fumbled you

yourusername: fumbling me? has he seen himself?

user12: oh girl i've just stalked your entire account your face card is insane

yourusername: i do not know what that means

user13: YOU HAVE A KID ????

yourusername: yes?

user13: so we could feasibly get step dad max - DILF MAX?

yourusername: are you people okay?

user13: he's down bad for you queen you gotta get in there

yourusername: excuse me?

user14: WAIT - you don't have a husband right?

yourusername: no...

yourusername: wait why am i replying to you people?

landonorris: how did they find you first i put so much effort into my investigation

oscarpiastri: you annoyed max until he gave you her name?

landonorris: RIGOROUS

yourusername: you people have a lot of followers, what are you doing here?

landonorris: max is your daughter's hero and you don't know me?

yourusername: damn that's an ego

landonorris: excuse me ?

yourusername: idk maybe my daughter loves max because he's plastered everywhere in the netherlands - she watches the races with my friends

landonorris: we drive the orange cars

yourusername: oh she hates yall

yourusername: i might have to block you two

oscarpiastri: I DID NOTHING IT WAS ALL HIM

maxverstappen1: ummm hi!

maxverstappen1: I'M SO SORRY PLEASE DON'T THINK I'M A CREEP

yourusername: why would i think you're a creep?

maxverstappen1: NO REASON

maxverstappen1: so that coffee?

yourusername: okay .....

yourusername: i was going to text you but yk kids and she's addicted to the games and has held my phone hostage

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 702,300 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & yourusername

landonorris: didn't leave monaco fast enough and now i'm stuck third wheeling - AND lola still hates me :(

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user16: CAN WE SLOW DOWN WE'RE GOING SO FUCKING FAST

yourusername: isn't that kinda their job?

user16: oh you gagged me there, congrats queen

user17: okay well now i'm obsessed with them and i need to know why lola hates lando so much

landonorris: she's a hater - just like her mother

maxverstappen1: y/n is allowed to hate you. in fact i'll support her in all of her hating i don't care

landonorris: i literally stayed for an extra day so we could all do something fun for christmas and HERE WE ARE

yourusername: i don't hate you lando, but i have to support my daughter in her dreams

landonorris: SHE SAID HER DREAMS WERE HER EXPLODING MY CAR WITH HER MIND

yourusername: LOL

landonorris: that is not 'LOL' that's attempted murder - i'm going to put your child in jail

maxverstappen1: woah lando that's too far

landonorris: and telepathic murder isn't ?

maxverstappen1: first of all it's telekinesis and second of all - lola can do what she wants

user18: oh boy he got attached quick

yourusername: this is nothing compared to lola

maxverstappen1: what? i love my biggest fan

danielricciardo: well fuck me i guess

maxverstappen1: yes

danielricciardo: max! y/n is right there (text me later)

maxverstappen1: oh wait ewwww

maxverstappen1: i meant get fucked.

yourusername: you can complain about third wheeling all you want but i'll deal with it if you keep taking these cute ass photos

landonorris: it's torture being an artist 💔

maxverstappen1: we also paid for everything lando, you can deal with watching your best friend being in love

landonorris: we're best friends ???

maxverstappen1: i'm your best friend - you're third at most

landonorris: ????

maxverstappen1: 1. lola 2. y/n 3. lando (maybe)

yourusername: awwwwww you're so sweet darling

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 14,859 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i support the fia's wrongs because they brought you to me

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user19: okay miss girl this is cute but i will NEVER let the fia live

yourusername: oh this is their one pass, next time i'll unleash lola's telekinesis

user19: tell lola that we thank her for her service

user20: but please don't blow up lando please

yourusername: she said orange cars - sorry osc

landonorris: what about a red car?

yourusername: oh she likes charles so no chance

charles_leclerc: taste 💅

maxverstappen1: i guess i'll let them off just this once because i love you

yourusername: you're so generous

georgerussell63: wanna forgive me as well

maxverstappen1: why would i do that?

maxverstappen1: also we're declaring our love for each other do you wanna GET THE FUCK OUT

georgerussell63: lola is talking about blowing up f1 cars with her mind i don't want to be a victim

yourusername: oh she won't blow your car up

georgerussell63: phew

yourusername: she'll bite you in person

georgerussell63: CRIKEY

georgerussell63: well i guess you guys can go back to declaring love now ...

yourusername: thanks i guess?

yourusername: love you maxy, i'm so glad we met you

maxverstappen1: i love you more, i love having both of you in my life

user21: this was very fast but this is also very cute

user22: i think we gotta get lola on sky sports - maybe she'll bite the british bias out of them

yourusername: do NOT threaten her with a good time

yourusername: however, i will say, lola doesn't actually bite she's very well behaved and just has a bit of a feral way about her

maxverstappen1: but it's so adorable :(

hulkhulkenberg: so ... paddock play dates

maxverstappen1: WE'RE THERE

yourusername: that would make the paddock a lot less intimidating for me

hulkhulkenberg: my daughter also prays on the downfall of everyone but me so they'll have that in common

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,245,038 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: maybe santa is real ... love of my life was top of my list this year

view all comments

user25: idk about you guys but i've never seen him happier

user26: after this season i'm so glad the christmas break has treated him so well

user27: i can't wait for the rest of the grid to think he might let up now and then mad max get released first corner in melbourne

maxverstappen1: whatever i gotta do to get that winners trophy for lola

yourusername: this is the happiest holidays we've ever had, you've made my dreams come true and truly are the best person i'd ever want around lola. i love you <3

maxverstappen1: i wouldn't want to be with anyone else now, you guys are it for me x

maxverstappen1: now come downstairs i'm strategically placed underneath the mistletoe

yourusername: there's mistletoe?

maxverstappen1: .... the christmas fairy must of put it up ?

yourusername: you know you don't need an excuse to kiss me right?

maxverstappen1: hehehehehehehehehehe

user28: wow he's such a loser i love him

yourusername: he's * my loser and * he LOVES ME

yourusername: sorry that was rude

yourusername: but he's so worth showing off

maxverstappen1: i can't wait to show you off to the world on international tv - i gotta mark my territory

yourusername: as if i would ever look anywhere but at you

landonorris: fine! you guys are cute! i'm taking all the credit for connecting you two

maxverstappen1: and just how did you do that?

landonorris: i found y/n's instagram duh!

yourusername: actually @user12 found my instagram

user12: omg shout out

maxverstappen1: i also had y/n's number the whole time...

landonorris: CAN YOU GUYS JUST LET ME HAVE THIS? IT'S CHRISTMAS?

yourusername: you got us socks for christmas ??? (thanks tbf)

landonorris: ALL MY BUDGET WENT TO LOLA'S PRESENT I HAD TO GET ON HER SIDE

maxverstappen1: you mean the mini MCL36 that she's been glaring at since she opened it?

yourusername: i think she's practicing her telekinesis for 2025 ❤️

landonorris: FUCK

yourusername: she just wants maxy to win lando, you can't deny her that

landonorris: i can feel her puppy dog eyes through the phone

maxverstappen1: i'll do anything to win for her - ANYTHING. merry christmas xx

landonorris: that's so threatening

yourusername: that's so romantic

fin.

note: ENJOY

[fadedncity]

(blood)thirst (teaser)

wc: 1.6k (teaser)

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

cw: supernatural!au, werewolf(lycan)!jeno, vampire!reader, natural enemies to lovers/forbidden love type of situation, injuries, blood, full fic tags: smut, angst, mention of death and family loss, flirting, sexual tension, teasing, pet names, oral sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, way more plot than i expected, plus more

a/n: hey yall so i finished this fic a while ago and it’s just been sitting in my drafts and then i was kinda unsure whether i wanted to post it but i still might. so lmk what you think!

full fic out now

TUESDAY [3:31 AM]

Rain pours in sheets, pelting against your skin. Your footsteps are silent as you sprint through the underbrush, hot on the heels of the Lycan ahead of you.

Even with his head start, it took you no time to catch up to the him. Your pace matched his as you zeroed in on his steady breathing and rhythmic drum of his footfalls. Lycans are fast, and he hadn't even shifted forms yet. But still, you had no trouble keeping up with him.

All the while you closely trail the Lycan, you're cautious of your surroundings, keeping your ears peeled for any sign of a presence accompanying you both in these woods.

Just as you were about to fall in line with him, an unexpected sound sliced through the night—a whistle, followed by the unmistakable twang of a bowstring.

An arrow whizzed past your head, embedding itself in a tree trunk to your left. Stopping in your tracks, you tilt your head, seeing sparks and smoke emitting from the arrowhead now embedded into the old pine tree. But you aren't given any more time to investigate as you're tackled to the ground by the Lycan.

Before you could push him off, his body shields you from the explosion of blinding light so bright you could've sworn it was day for a split second.

He just saved you.

"Are you okay?" Jeno asks, rain dripping from the ends of his hair as he stands from the dirt.

"Yeah," you nod, hesitantly taking the hand he offers. "Thanks," you say, looking at the tree bark melting off the trunk.

The humans have UV explosives. Great.

Both you and Jeno hear the sound of cars approaching from the nearby road and take off running again. Without a word, you plunge deeper into the forest, your movements synchronized with Jeno's by necessity.

"How did they even find us?" Jeno asks, looking over his shoulder, his voice barely audible over the rain.

"I was just going to ask you the same thing."

The hunters were relentless, their shouts echoing in the distance, along with the pounding of their boots. You moved swiftly, navigating the maze of branches and roots with an ease born from decades of practice. The forest seemed to close in around you, the trees pressing in like silent sentinels bearing witness to your flight.

Then shots start firing off, the sharp cracks of bullets cutting through the air. It sounds like they were coming from every direction, the rain making it harder for both you and Jeno to locate where the hunters are.

A bullet soars past you and stops whistling in your ears when it hits flesh, tearing through skin and muscle. Jeno beside you roars out in pain and begins to slow down as the metallic taste of blood enters the air around you. You shoot him a look of concern over your shoulder.

"I'll be fine," he says. But when you see his hand pressed to his shoulder, blood seeping from an injury that should've already started healing, you know he's far from okay. "We need to get out of these woods," Jeno winces as he applies pressure to the gunshot wound.

"I know a place not too far from here," you tell him.

[6:37 AM]

The moon's silver glow was waning, giving way to the first light of dawn. The storm had passed, leaving the forest dank and muddy. Urgency rose as you were closing in on daybreak. You and Jeno raced through the forest, the scent of his blood and sweat mingling in the damp morning air.

Jeno's breath was labored, each step accompanied by a pained grunt as he pushed himself forward. The wound on his shoulder, though not fatal, was slowing him down.

"The sun's gonna be up soon," Jeno pants, his voice weary.

"I know," you raise your eyes to the sky, "But we're almost there."

As you ascend the mountain, you spot the entrance behind a thick curtain of ivy and moss. The camouflaged door was almost invisible against the rocky face.

The two of you approach the fortified door. But not before you start to feel the uncomfortable sensation of pins and needles all over your body, a warning of the daylight's deadly approach.

The air grows warmer with the first rays of sunlight piercing through the treetops, casting long shadows stretching like skeletal fingers across the ground, leaving you exposed. You scream out in pain just before you can reach the door, feeling the severe burns blistering across your body under the sun's relentless gaze.

Without hesitation, Jeno quickly removes his jacket and throws it around you, shielding you as best as he can from the searing sunlight.

You reach the door with trembling hands and enter the security code to unlock it. You hear the mechanism click and attempt to push the door open, but it remains stubbornly shut. The hinges, unused for so long, now rusted, obstruct your entry.

"It's stuck," panic edges your voice.

Using his good shoulder, Jeno presses his weight into the door, helping you push it open. The thick metal gives way with a heavy creak, welcoming you inside. The moment you both are through, Jeno slams the door shut behind him, enveloping you in the safety of darkness.

The flickering emergency lights cast long shadows across the walls, the only source of illumination along the steps down to the bunker. You can hear the sounds of the forest growing distant, muted, and distorted through the layers of earth and stone as you descend further down.

With the adrenaline from the chase already simmered down, the reality of your situation sets in. Here you are, a vampire, with Jeno, a lycan, forced into hiding together by humans hunting you both. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words only filled by the sounds of Jeno's steps behind you.

Your burns are already beginning to heal now that you're out of the sunlight. The cool, dim interior of the bunker feels like a sanctuary, the pain in your skin subsiding by the time you lead Jeno into a high-ceiling room.

"Thanks, again," you break the silence, returning his jacket. Even in the shadows, you can see Jeno's eyes examining your burns. "I'll heal," you assure him. "You, on the other hand, aren't for some reason."

"I'm fine," Jeno lies.

"You're not. You're still bleeding out. I can smell it."

Jeno stays silent, knowing there's no use in arguing with you.

"I'll go see if I can find the generator and a med kit or something," you say.

The underground facility is large enough to house an entire clan and well-equipped for emergencies. Or at least it had been once. The walls, thick and impenetrable, provide a sense of security, but the darkness within was oppressive, the silence deafening.

You move through the narrow corridors, blindly navigating yourself through the place. The emergency lights give off a faint glow, barely enough to see by. The bunker has an air of abandonment from years of sitting unused here. Cobwebs clung to the corners, and dust motes danced in the faint light.

You quickly locate the electrical room and, after a few tries, manage to get the generator running. The lights flicker on, and the air kicked on, ventilating the compound. As you make your way back down the corridor, you pass the uniform lockers, and just with your luck, you find a med kit sitting at the bottom of the cubby. You grab it and hurry back to where Jeno's waiting.

You find Jeno right where you left him; leaning against the wall, face pale and drawn, sweat glistening on his brow, damp clothes clinging to his defined muscles. From where he stands, the light casts deep shadows across his face, highlighting the strain etched into his features.

"Sit," you say, opening the case of medical supplies on the table.

"I can do it myself," Jeno mutters, though his voice lacks conviction as he weakly pushes himself away from the wall.

"You look like you can barely stand on your own. Just let me patch you up so you can at least stop bleeding all over the place," your words are punctuated by the snap of latex gloves you slip on.

Jeno has no energy to protest. He drops his jacket onto a chair and peels off his shirt, sitting on the table in front of you.

You don't have much time to ogle over the Lycan's chiseled physique as your eyes are drawn to the skin turning black and blue around the bullet's entry point. In all your years of existence, you've seen some pretty bad shit. But even this sight—Jeno's bloodied and seemingly infected shoulder, is enough to make even you wince.

"There's no exit, which is probably why you're not healing. Whatever specialized bullet hit you is still in there," you observe, examining the injury closely.

"Great," Jeno groans, throwing his head back. "Think you can get it out?"

"Sure, but it's not gonna be fun," you tell him.

"Let's just get it over with."

a/n: please lmk what you think! if i do post the full fic it is 11k so be weary 😭 thank you for reading! <33 feedback is appreciated!!

[daimus]

looking for Heaven, found the devil in me

In the beginning of your marriage, Kaiser never touches you. He only tells Ness how to do it.

wc — 1.6k

tags — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, fingering, medieval au I guess, Lord! Kaiser, Knight! Ness, title from shake it out by Florence and the Machine

You had not known you were leaving home for the last time when you said goodbye. You suspect this was intentional. They knew you wouldn’t have gone otherwise. 

The woods are eerily silent around you. Patches of old snow, half melted into pools of crystalline and liquid silver, dot the still landscape. Turn itself feels sluggish and frozen. 

They have sent you to the very edge of the world. 

You jolt when quick, nimble fingers do the laces of your cloak tighter. He chucks you under the chin briskly when he’s finished, a flash of affection, there and then gone. 

“It’s cold, miss,” Ness says. “You need to wear your furs.” 

You didn’t even notice him behind you. He’s like another creature of the woods. His eerily quiet footsteps are a sign he belongs. You, on the other hand, are an outsider, and nature wants you to know it. 

“Maybe we should head back inside,” Ness muses. “Kaiser will be home soon.” 

You say nothing, but let him guide you back to the castle. His arm is warm around you, a shelter from the storm. 

Ness feeds you soup in the kitchen while you wait for your husband. You hadn’t expected him, this sweet, bubbly knight, more like a handmaiden than a manservant. He spoons broth into your waiting mouth and dabs at your mouth with a napkin, cooing at you to “be careful, it’s hot.” 

The fire is roaring and you’re sleepy from nothing. Ever since you got to Kaiser’s manor, you’ve had a shortage of work to do. Lesser nobles like you are only separated from peasants in name. That’s why your family was so delighted when the offer for your hand came from the North, even though it meant you would be going so far away. 

You still don’t know why it was you. 

The door bangs open. 

Ness runs over to help Kaiser shed his coats and boots, running a familiar hand over him with a quickness. You still don’t understand their relationship, their strange closeness. They haven’t taken the oath of blood brothers, but they seem closer than even the knights that are sworn to each other. Despite his lordship, Kaiser seems content to let Ness handle everything: his property, his taxes, even his wife. 

There’s a level of trust you’re not sure you could ever achieve with another human being, but Ness makes it so easy you can almost imagine it. Yes, if it was anyone, it would be Ness. 

“Wife,” Kaiser beckons. “You won’t welcome me?” 

You push your chair back hurriedly and follow in Ness’s eager footsteps. He laughs, gentle, and strokes a hand over your hair - quick, as he does everything. You barely notice it. 

Fleet-footed, your grandmother would call him. He moves like a startled fawn, always with a jolting start, yet he doesn’t seem like prey. Or at the very least, you know he’s not the bottom of the food chain. 

You are. 

You keep your chin tucked down, face turned away. You’re not attempting to be demure, you really don’t know how to act. No one trained you in your duties before they sent you up here to be buried by snow. The only teacher you have is Ness. 

He would be a better wife than you are, and he’s close to Kaiser - you don’t know why your husband didn’t just marry him instead. It would be so much less work than procuring you and dragging you back to the North, just for Ness to explain how to cook and budget to you in the solarium during daylight hours. 

And at night, he teaches you something else. 

“Don’t be scared,” Ness coos, nudging your legs apart. 

He’s nestled with you in the sheets. It's almost like being in a cocoon, tucked in those thick blankets and soft wool. The North doesn't use silks. They don't trap heat well enough.

You clutch at his arms for support, frightened but trusting. Kaiser sits in an armchair at the foot of the bed. There's a watchfulness to his waiting that makes it seem purposeful.

You suspect your husband isn’t of as few words as he makes it seem. Rather, he wants to frighten you. His reticence makes him hard to predict. You can’t tell what will please him, relying on Ness for clues. 

Ness presses a kiss to your cheek, peppering you all over with soft, butterfly brushes of his nose, before he tucks you under his chin. You like the way he touches you. It’s soothing, skin to skin. And he’s warm. 

You’re always cold in this freezing, bitter land. It’s inhospitable. 

Ness arranges you so that your legs are hooked over his. Your fingers release their death grip on his biceps so you can shove your skirt, which has gotten rucked up, down. 

You hold it there in place, trembling from embarrassment. It feels like you’re a zoo animal on display. There are too many eyes on you, and Kaiser is still silent. 

Ness rubs his cheek against yours. “Shh, shh,” he hums. “Don’t be scared. Would I hurt you, pretty? My liege lord’s wife? Would I?” 

You shake your head, bumping into his nose. He’s too close, all tangled up in you. Your limbs are strung out against him. 

Reluctantly, you let go of your skirt, drawing your hands back up. You don’t know what else to hold on to now. 

“Good girl,” Kaiser finally says, watching you retreat. “Let Ness take care of you.” 

You squirm at his words, feeling something thicken in your stomach. You want to press your thighs together, but Ness’s legs are holding you open. 

They talk, for a moment, over your head like you’re not there. They’re discussing what to do with you, while you grow meeker and meeker in Ness’s grip. He pets your hair idly while Kaiser makes dirty suggestions involving tongue and teeth. 

Ness’s hand slips under your skirt.

You jolt up against him, but it doesn’t seem to hurt him. He toys with the white lace of your undergarments while Kaiser switches the topic to, unbelievably, farming. You’re not quite following the thread of the conversation. 

“Yes,” Ness says agreeably as his fingers slip under the soft white fabric. “I’ll look into it.” 

The first graze along your clit could almost be an accident. He acts like it too, shushing you with soft kisses against your temple when you make a complaining noise, an apology murmured against your hair. But then he keeps doing it, purposefully drilling his fingers against your clit, watching you whimper and whine helplessly in his lap. 

“What is it?” Kaiser asks you, a smile playing on his lips. “What do you want, my wife?” 

You shake your head. 

“Nothing?” He shrugs. “You heard her, Ness.” 

The conversations turns away from you again. You bury your face in Ness’s shoulder and shut your eyes as he keeps playing with you, his fingers slipping through now wet folds as he tap-tap-taps at you insistently, the sensation too little to get you anywhere, but too much to ignore. 

He dips below, gathering slick from where you’re leaking, and returns to trace tight little circles on your clit. You gasp, your core tightening as your legs kick out. 

Ness stops talking to adjust you once more. “Behave,” he chided you lightly, amused. “A lady doesn’t interrupt conversations.” 

“Yes, my lord,” you whisper.

“I’m not-“

“Very good,” Kaiser says. “You should address Ness as you address me. He is, like you, mine after all.” 

Ness kisses your cheek. “Look what a gift you are,” he murmurs, his voice darkening. “Look what you do for me. Can I reward her, Kaiser?” 

Kaiser frowns. 

Ness revokes it immediately. “Of course, of course. I’m sorry. I’ll wait for your permission.” 

Your head drops back against Ness’s chest, trying to control yourself, trying to breathe evenly through bursts of pleasure. It’s not enough. There’s a hot itch under your skin. Something in you clamors for more like a trapped animal, gnawing and biting and unwilling to give you a moment of respite. 

“Ness,” you start. He shakes his head. 

“Kaiser, please.” He looks like a predator and a king and your lord, the master of all that dwells within this manor, including you. “Please, I’m so-“ 

“So?” He says smoothly, laying a heavy hand on your ankle. 

“So-“ 

You choke on it, your face burning with embarrassment. You can’t say it. You weren’t raised with their refined manners but you were still raised in a noble lady’s house. 

“Mercy, my lord,” Ness intercedes for you. “Look at the poor thing, she’s trembling.” 

“She needs to learn to ask for what she wants,” Kaiser says hungrily. 

“Listen,” Ness says, and they both fall silent. The squelch of Ness’s fingers is audible. He toys with you, slipping one inside. Your spine seizes, stiffening instantly as you clench down on him. “She’s so wet,” he hisses. 

“Fine,” Kaiser says. “What do you say, my sweet?” 

“Thank you, my lord, Kaiser-“ your words break on a moan. “Ness! Thank you!” 

Your voice turns garbled as Ness presses a second finger into you. His thumb applies steady pressure to your clit as he pumps his hand slowly. Something is building inside of you. 

You cling to him, the shelter in the storm. In desperation, your animal brain remembers that he is safety and harbor and fire, everything comforting. 

“Cum for me, dear one,” Ness says, watching your face hungrily. “I want to see it.” 

Kaiser says nothing, but you can feel his hand tightening around your leg. 

You break against him, shaking through it. It feels like fear, if fear was addictive. Heat courses through your veins, desire pools between your legs, and Ness works you through your orgasm on steady fingers until you’re keening, but you never tell him to stop. 

Only Kaiser can call him off. 

“Enough,” Kaiser says, rising from his seat. “My turn.” 

[moralesmilesanhour]

looking the part

description: a college AU one-shot wherein Ekko watches you get ready for an end-of-semester celebration with some of Piltover's finest. wc: 572 tags: canon divergent-ish, ekko x black!reader a/n: wanted to try my hand at writing for Arcane characters :) the original rough draft was twice as long as what you see here lol

A calm quiet settled over your small single room.

Ekko watched idly as you attempted to wind your braids around your head in a large, elaborate bun. Still barefoot, you were half-dressed in a smart-looking white blouse (complete with a golden brooch that had moving mechanical wings), and a long black skirt that revealed your brown legs through two high slits.

“You look like Medarda,” he commented from his spot on your bed, chin resting in his palm. He had no plans tonight that did not include a long nap, and was appropriately dressed for the occasion in a white tank top and gray sweats.

The bun seemed to remain stable as you slowly removed your hands. You grinned into the dirty dorm room mirror at your triumph.

“That's the idea.”

“You want to look like a topside politician?”

The bun quickly collapsed when you whipped around to face him. He had that ‘be serious’ look on his face, a dark brow lifted in skepticism.

You crossed your arms.

“Ekko, don't start. It's just an end-of-semester party, and I'd like to look the part. That's all it is!”

Ekko put his free hand up in surrender.

“I'm just saying, I don't see the point in spending your whole night schmoozing when you’dve already got Viktor vouching for you.”

The space beside him sank a bit once you joined him on the mattress, and he sat up to accommodate. You stuck out your lips in a pout.

“Says the guy who scored an internship with Heimerdinger.”

Ekko retorted without missing a beat, “And do you see me copying his drip?”

The image of Ekko dressed head-to-toe in Piltie jewelry and double-breasted vests made you giggle.

“Never in a million years.”

“Exactly.”

“But that's not the same thing!” You pushed him by the shoulder, “I just think her hair's cute.”

He reached over to push a stray braid out of your face, the tips of his calloused fingers brushing your cheek as he did so. You watched him watch you, intently.

His clear brown eyes sparkled where the low desk light hit them, the same way they did the day you first met at one of Heimerdinger’s guest lectures. Ekko had raised his hand—the only one to do so—and asked some out-of-left-field questions about whether Hextech was especially vulnerable to ‘bad actors’ under council jurisdiction and whatnot.

Expecting him to struggle to be heard in that giant lecture hall, the ring of his voice cutting through the air, uninhibited and impolite, sent a shock through your system. It also sent the professor on a very long tangent on the dangers of the Arcane when left in the wrong hands, and you could've sworn you heard a snicker or two coming from Ekko’s direction when he had to be interrupted because class time had all but run out.

You stopped him before class ended, and awkwardly asked him if he had really bleached his hair to be that stark white color. He laughed, and invited you to lunch not long after.

“I could do you one better,” he suggested, snapping you out of your thoughts. He made a circular gesture around his head. “How ‘bout a crown?”

“Hm,” you pretended to think, though you were already moving to settle yourself in between his knees. “Do I get to borrow your earrings? Y’know, complete the look.”

A long sigh.

“Alright, but you better not lose ‘em.”

-

Hi! Thank you for making it this far. Pls feel free to reblog and leave feedback in replies/tags, and check out my pinned post if you're curious about me or other stuff I've written :) Have a nice day/night

[butterflytint]

the princess and the archer- t. fushiguro

summary: the princess of the kingdom has escaped from her boarding school! who better to help her than a brooding archer in the woods?

w/c: 9k

pairing: archer!toji x femprincess!reader

warnings/tags: royal au, sexually explicit content, virgin reader

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old ao3 hq one shots. I thought toji would be a great hunter so why not. also the towns and places are references to cursed techniques!!

Once upon a time in a land far far away, resided a wealthy and powerful kingdom. In this kingdom, lived a beautiful princess . . .  who was currently on the run.

You donned a scarlet cloak as you ride your horse through a forest. A few days prior, you hatched a devious plan to escape the all-girls boarding school your parents—the king and queen—sent you to so you could learn the proper etiquette that a lady must know. You grew bored rather quickly and formulated a plan to run off to your uncle’s estate, that way your aunt and uncle could vouch for you and protect you from your parents’ wrath.

Although you were successful in escaping the school, you were still in unknown territory. The girl’s academy was located on the opposite end of the kingdom, there’d be too much land to cover in one night, not to mention your horse is getting tired. With a deep breath, you yanked the reins back, signaling your companion to slow down.

Venturing off in the middle of the night like that into unfamiliar grounds was stupid to say the least. It was wiser for you and your trusted steed to eat and rest up, and simply continue traveling in the morning when the sun was out so you could actually see where you were headed. It seemed like a decent plan, except for one flaw: where would you sleep? A vulnerable girl like you couldn’t sleep on the dirt of a mysterious forest, it simply didn’t suit a woman of your royal title.

You adjusted your cloak around you as you trudged through the woods, finally settling to rest under a tree. You leaned your back against your steed, rummaging through your satchel to pull out something to eat. A disappointed frown took form on your face when you only pulled out a small portion of turkey that you snuck in from the school’s kitchens. Shaking your head, you sighed, accepting that you’d have to make do with what you had.

You closed your eyes and brought the slab of meat to your mouth. Your teeth snapped together as you seemingly took a bite of the air. Eyes prying open as they followed the sound of gobbling next to your head, the blonde-haired horse was downing that turkey like it was a wad of chewing gum.

You gasped before snapping at the stallion, “Reiner!”

Your horse opened his eyes to look at you dejectedly, no sign of guilt on his furry face. You could’ve sworn you almost saw the animal smile at your misery.

“Traitor,” you pointed your finger at him.

Reiner simply nuzzled into your side, acting oh so innocent. You heaved a deep breath, furrowing your brows as your fingers raked through his mane.

“I suppose that wasn’t going to be enough for the either of us,” you murmured. You stoically stood up, dusting your dress with your hands as you looked back at him, “I suppose we won’t be getting anything near a feast out here anytime soon. As much as I miss having breakfast in bed, it’s time I do something on my own for once.”

A devoid stare was all you got in return from the animal. You took it as a look of silent encouragement. You trekked further into the woods, your trusted steed following closely behind. Thoughts of drinking ice cold water and eating a warm meal resided in your mind, etching itself in your conscience, imprinting on your senses as you could almost smell rotisserie chicken being cooked in that very moment. Wait. That wasn’t your imagination, you could actually smell it with a hint of smoke sailing through the air.

A relieved sigh escaped your lips as you scrunched up your dress in your hands to lift it up, making it easier for you to step through the dirt of the forest ground. As you followed the growing scent, you squinted in the distance to see a warm hue of radiance, like a beacon of light for you to follow.

A short thankful laugh spilled from your throat before you approached it. It was a hut, like a small cottage, sitting by its lonesome in the woods. Maybe it belonged to a kind old lady who tended to her sheep in the village nearby or a florist—it could’ve even belonged to an evil warlock for all you knew.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, you drew near that cottagey hut. When a twig snapped beneath your boot, you didn’t think much of it. Big mistake.

The rumbling of a deep growl resounded behind you. Slowly, you craned your head to meet the origin of the beastly noise. A bear . . . it belonged to a bear. It was standing several meters away from you. All you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat blaring in your ears like some siren.

You glanced over your shoulder to somehow discreetly mount Reiner and slip away, but you were graced with the view of the equestrian galloping away. It was treason to say the least, a heinous crime against a princess.

You couldn’t control the petrified scream that left your mouth before you started running towards the cottage. You ran the fastest you’d ever run in your life. Back in the castle, if you were to behave like this, you’d be disciplined by your caretakers up in the castle, locked up in your room for acting like a ruffian, but the circumstances called for it this time.

Something caught your leg. A branch. Uneven terrain. You couldn’t care to check. All you knew was that there was a sharp sting of pain in your shin now. As unceremoniously as you got up to continue your running, hot tears began to spill from your eyes. You chanced a look over your shoulder again to see if the beast was chasing you, but you bumped into a tree. A very cushiony tree.

You turned to see what it was, only to be met with a pair of rich green eyes. Panting, you felt the stranger grip your arms with a sense of care. He craned his neck down to your view, almost a way of letting you know it was okay.

His hooded eyes were wide as he asked you, “Are you alright?”

You nodded, still shuddering. You started to explain, “There’s a—”

“I know,” he interrupted boldly. He pulled you behind him, not with too much force as he was your line of defense now. He reached for his bow and arrow, drawing his arm back as he aimed at the beast charging towards the two of you. “Stay behind me, darlin’.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You backed up towards his home slowly, still trembling while watching him draw the arrow at the vicious animal. He let go of the bowstring, an audible gust of wind from the arrow traveling through the air could be heard.

You peered over his shoulder to see the dense creature topple over like it was nothing. That arrow had to have pierced its heart somehow through its arm. It was a well-aimed shot, some kind of miracle you would read of in a fantasy tale.

The peculiar stranger didn’t even offer the poor corpse another look as he turned to face you. You gaped at him as your bottom lip quivered. He was tall, very tall. He looked down at you like you were some puny ant on the ground. He had straight ink black hair that hung over those deep green eyes, eyes that could be mistaken for blue in this light. His brows were dark like his hair, resting in no particular expression as he studied you.

The man was in a loose grey tunic and black pants, a pair of dense black boots to tie the jagged hunter look together. Bow still in hand while his quiver rested on his hip, housing spare arrows for him to use if necessary. They weren’t needed though, not when the owner of them was as adept to take down a bear with a single arrow from a long distance in the darkness of the night.

Not only was he tall, but he was also muscular enough that his loose clothes could not even hide it. He towered over you in ways that reminded you of the perimeter walls of the castle, overlooking outsiders like they weren’t anything.

All his features were striking, so striking you nearly missed that scar carved over the side of his mouth, over his lips. It made him look threatening, dangerous. Everything in your body was telling you to run.

He had a bored frown on his face, devoid of any empathy for a lonely girl stranded in the forest. That’s when his lips suddenly curled up into a smirk, his canine teeth poking out ravenously as he leered at you, his scar contorting with his expression.

“What’s a cute little thing like you doing out here all by yourself?” he quizzed.

Those eyes of his were staring straight into your soul, you took a step back, prepared to run, but you had just witnessed first-hand how he pierced that bear’s heart with the instrument in his hand.

You gulped, pulling it together before tilting your chin up a bit, “Are you the owner of this cottage?”

“You mean my hut? Yeah,” the man responded quite dully. “But you didn’t answer my question. We don’t get many visitors out here.”

“I . . . got lost finding my way back to the village,” you replied warily, clearly unaware of the area.

“You need to go back to Shikigami Village? Sweetheart, you’re headed in the wrong direction. The village is a mile that way,” he responded, pointing to your left. When you peered off into the direction he was beckoning to, you wet your lips in apprehension. That’s when he cocked a brow at you, “You’re not from around here are you?”

“That’s none of your concern,” you huffed indignantly.

He shrugged, “Fine by me. Good luck getting back.”

He started heading back towards his little home and you stood there with your jaw ajar. You watched him take several steps before you bunched up your dress so you could catch up to him.

“W-wait! Are you seriously not going to help me?” you cried, steps frantic.

The man stopped in his tracks when you stood between him and his hut. He tilted his head to the side, “I told you the village is that way, didn’t I? You interrupted my meal I was going to eat.”

He walked around you as he continued his path straight to the little structure he called a home.

You scurried along his side, looking up at him, “Mister, I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I’m famished and I have no clue where my horse is. You wouldn’t leave a young lady in the dangerous forest all by herself, would you?”

It seemed like he was pondering for a moment, “Actually, I would. Good night.”

He started walking again and you gripped his arm, making him stop again. When he looked down at you, he felt trapped in the trembling helpless look you were returning him.

“Please, what if I encounter another beast? I won’t last. I—I . . . I’ll pay you handsomely for a meal and a way to the village,” you offered panickily.

He looked you up and down, you were half his size, he couldn’t help but feel a bit responsible for making sure you were safe now.

He groaned, “Alright. Come in.”

Your face lit up and you spluttered, “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

The tall man patted your hand before opening the door, trying to act calm about an attractive young woman clinging onto him so willingly as he entered his home. When you entered the cottage, you were graced by the scent of herbs and spices. It was a cramped space, though. A small kitchen in one corner, a tiny lounge area in another, a workshop space in the back by a rickety spiral staircase leading to another floor. It was all barely the size of your personal chambers alone.

“I hate to break it to you, but this is not a hut,” you told the man. “Huts don’t have stairs.”

He shut the door as you let go of his arm. Glancing at you over his shoulder he asked, “What is it then?”

“A cottage,” you piped while taking off your torn cloak. “As I said earlier.”

“No, cottages are for folk like you,” he said gruffly as he let his archery gear fall to the floor by the door.

“Folk like me?” you put your hands on your hips, the corset of your dress defining your figure in all the right ways as he tried to casually check you out.

“Yeah,” he said curtly. “Y’know, shopkeepers and such.”

You gasped in offense, watching him step towards the kitchen, “I am not of such a low status! You don’t know who I am?”

The man tossed something indifferently into the stove, not sparing you so much as a glance as he cut slabs of some sort of meat with a butcher knife.

“You married to a merchant or something?” he asked. “’Cuz someone as hot as you stumbling on my hut seems unlikely if your tied to some merchant.”

Your brows furrowed from where you were behind the wooden countertop he had facing the rest of the home.

“I am not a merchant’s wife. I’m not even married—”

“Thank god,” he murmured, his scarred mouth barely moving.

“Excuse me?!” you questioned.

“Nothin’,” he said quickly.

You raised a brow as you studied him again in the warm light of the golden lanterns he had around the place. He would take a moment to think before he continued his next step in cooking, as if he was trying to recollect a vision of someone explaining the process to him. He had an adorable crease between his brows as he tried to think, almost making you forget how dangerous the man was.

You smiled playfully, leaning your elbows on the counter, “Hey, you never told me your name?”

He turned away from the meat he was cooking and faced you, “You first. You’re the stranger here.”

“Right. Where are my manners?” you straightened your posture before formally curtseying, “Y/n.”

He nodded at you as a form of greeting you, “Fushiguro. Toji Fushiguro.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you smiled, bowing your head. All Toji does in response is another inattentive nod, returning to whatever it was he was cooking. Your eyes caught a small emblem on his wall by the window. “Excuse me, what is that?”

Toji flicked his eyes to where you were pointing. Blandly, he responds, “That’s the Zenin Clan crest.”

“Zenin?” you squinted in thought, recognizing the name immediately. “Like the royal clan of Hollow Kingdom? They are faithful servants of the king and queen.”

Toji maintained a disposition of irritation, like your presence was a great bother. “Yes, like the royal clan.”

“How come you have their crest?” you asked, thinking about the clan itself, how the members were cold but your father saw great value in them in further bettering the kingdom.

“I worked for them a long time ago,” he answered bluntly.

You frowned, “Why is someone who had ties with such an elite family here in the middle of a forest all the way at the edge of the kingdom?”

Toji scowled, peeling his hooded eyes away from the pot on the stove, “That is none of your business.”

That look on his pretty face, total detestation. In this light, you would see how bright and smooth his skin was. His face was carved and chiseled, sharp and menacing.

From the twenty some minutes you have known the guy, you knew he clearly valued his privacy. Of course, he did. He was living alone in the middle of the woods when there was an entire village hardly a mile from here.

You groaned, closing your eyes and thinking about how you got here in the first place. You muttered under your breath, “I’m going to kill Ijichi.”

Toji cocked a thin brow, looking over his shoulder at you, “Who’s Ijichi?”

“He’s the royal stableboy up in the capital of the kingdom. He’s the one who trained my horse, he’s a nice boy, but my horse is a real piece of work. Stupid thing ran off and left me in the heat, damn traitor,” you grumbled.

Toji pointed at the window, “You mean that horse?”

Your gaze flicked to the window behind you to see the blonde-haired steed outside the cottage, poking its head in.

“Reiner!” you gasped. You rushed over to grab his face and scold him, “Bad boy, I can’t believe you abandoned me! You coward. Give me that.”

You yanked your satchel from his side and pressed it against your chest. Toji narrowed his eyes as he studied you once again, registering your face, your clothes, the way your face hardly gave much away when you spoke or when he replied to you.

“Where were you coming from then? I know you aren’t from around here if you’re headed to the capital,” Toji asked as he set two plates on the roundtable.

You sighed, taking a seat by his side, “I was enrolled in a girls’ school in Strawdoll City. I need to go home to my uncle’s estate. I’m not quite prepared to go back to the castle yet, my parents must be furious. Thank you,” you added as he handed you a spoon to begin eating.

“Castle?” he quizzed, gulping down a spoonful of broth from the chicken stew he made.

His pupils dilated as he put the puzzle pieces together. A beautiful young lady in a pretty dress . . . saying she’s of high royal status . . . fully aware of the prestigious Zenin Clan . . . attending a rich private school in a wealthy city . . . all prim and proper with her ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ . . . her stableboy in the capital of the kingdom . . . she needs to go home to her castle . . .

“You’re the princess?!” he froze in his seat.

“Uh . . . yes,” you answered before blowing on your soup gently.

His eyes widened when you seemed so casual about it. He tensed up, “Yes?! You don’t understand, I can’t have the princess of the land in my house! If anyone finds out, they’ll think I kidnapped you and did something questionable.”

You chuckled, “No need to worry, Toji, my friend. I won’t peep a word to anybody . . . as long as you get me back to Shikigami Village safely and fetch me a carriage.”

“Absolutely not, sweetheart,” he retorted gruffly as he stood up. “Listen, you’re cute and all, but I’ll be skinned alive if the soldiers patrolling the cities find out I’m housing the princess while the king and queen are searching for her. I’m just a poor archer who likes to be left alone. I don’t want any part of this.”

“Uh—what? You’re going to kick me out?!” you cried. “That’s a crime! To turn down the princess’s request! To throw her out where she could be in imminent danger!”

“Maybe the princess should’ve stayed at school like her parents told her to, children should listen to their parents,” he scolded from where he stood.

You set down the spoon with much force, “I’m hardly a child! My twentieth birthday was just a few days ago and they’re just going to marry me off to that weird prince within the week! I need to get to my uncle and aunt before my parents make the arrangements final. Besides, I promised to pay to a generous hand. I’ll bring you gold, livestock, clothes, all the riches you desire.”

It was true, your parents already had a suitor in mind, but you found him rather odd. He was a man you shared no interests with, resulting in you barely carrying a conversation with him the few times you had met him. The intimacy in your meetings with the prince of your neighboring land was practically invisible. The idea of marrying him seemed like a form of torture.

Toji turned his back to you, crossing his arms sternly. You were fuming with a mix of rage and hopelessness, you needed to appeal to him somehow. Your future depended on it. You ruminated on what you’d read in the books in the castle study.

Slowly, you stood up. Luckily, your dress was very flattering for your figure, the corset complimenting your waist and chest. You ruffled up your hair before painting an innocent look on your face.

“Toji,” you said his name softly.

He turned to face you at your sultry tone. When he saw you, his heart seemed caged in his throat, he was like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t pry his eyes away, not with the lustful and playful glint in your eye.

“Please, I’ll do anything,” you said suggestively.

There would be no use in lying to say he didn’t find you attractive. You were a lady much too beautiful for her own good. Someone who knew she was desirable.

He gulped, looking you up and down. When he met your eyes again, he answered, “Fine.”

Then it hit you, you didn’t think he would actually jump at the offer to ravage your body, but here you were. A stupid girl for trying something you read of in all your romance books. You tried not to shiver, expecting him to begin touching you already.

But he didn’t.

He replied coldly, “Here’s the deal. You arrange for fifty bags of gold, wheat, and a supply of bread if I get you back to your uncle’s estate. And throw in a few sheep here and there.”

You were relieved, but a bit taken aback at the turn of events. You narrowed your eyes at him, he rejected your offer of taking your body as payment. What kind of man was he?

“You don’t want to—”

“Have my way with a girl as gorgeous as yourself?” he finished for you, green eyes glinting deviously in the light. “I’d love to, trust me, but it’s not every day the princess of the land makes you an offer. I’ll take all the money I can from it. Of course, if you’d like me to pleasure you in the way you were just insinuating, I wouldn’t mind having a night of passion with the princess as a bonus with my newfound wealth.”

You gasped before you strode up to him, landing a cruel smack across his face.

“What?” he breathed out. “You were the one that was trying to get into bed with me!”

“Because I thought you would do the humane thing and decide to help me without anything in return!” you spat. “Turns out you’re a freeloading vulture trying to take advantage of a helpless girl!”

He rubbed his cheek as Reiner watched from the window, letting out a humorous neigh, “You got quite the arm, princess. I’m still getting the gold and sheep, right?”

You spun on your heel to take a seat on the cushioned seats he had in the lounge, “No sheep. I’ll arrange for everything else. Pervert.”

Toji scowled and walked up to you, glaring down at you, “You’re the pervert. You started it.”

“Ugh, men,” you said venomously. A sting of pain flashed through your leg again, making you wince as you started lifting up the skirt of your dress.

Toji practically choked, “What are you doing?”

You lifted the dress right below your knee to reveal a gash on your flesh. It must’ve been from when you fell outside. His pupils were blown, relieved you weren’t lifting your skirt up for any other particular reason.

Toji immediately turned around and headed for the kitchen. He came back a short moment later with a damp cloth and what seemed like fresh cloths as makeshift wraps. He bent down and craned his head to meet your eyes.

“Is it alright if I touch you?” he asked gently, his voice all husky and gruff but still hitting that note of sincerity. Something you wouldn’t expect from a man like him.

You offered a stunned stare, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you slowly nodded. He gently held your calf, pressing the cloth to your wound. You watched him intently, feeling a twang of guilt for shouting at him a moment prior.

He pulled away after tending to your injury, peering up at you as you gazed back with a glimmer of gratitude. He gave you a tender look, similar to the one you gave him. The silence was searing the air like a wildfire, heat building in your throat.

Without saying anything, he lifted you up bridal style. You wanted to retort, but decided not to thrash in his hold as he ascended up the stairs. Once he got to the second floor, he smoothly set you down on his bed.

He stepped back and you stared up at him. Coldly, he said, “It’s late, your majesty. You should rest. We have a lot of land to cover in the morning. I’ll be sleeping downstairs if you need me.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but opted to snap it shut instead. He shut the door and you heard his footsteps growing faint as he returned downstairs. You couldn’t deny how incredibly confused you were, instead you pulled the covers over your body and dozed off. Not even bothering to get out of the suffocating corset dress and get into your cotton night gown with how exhausted you were.

You woke up to the sound of rustling outside. You sat up straight before slipping off the bed and freshening up in the bathroom. It was a difficult task to put it in simple terms. It didn’t have the luxuries of your personal bath. There wasn’t any hot water, the faucet made a screeching noise every time you moved the handle, and you didn’t have your pink loofa.

What sin were you being punished for like this?

You stepped into the kitchen, not seeing the archer that rescued you last night. A sound from outside drew you to open the front door, seeing Toji sitting on a tree stump, sharpening a knife. Reiner was a few feet away, wearing a disgusted expression as he eyed the archer.

“Morning, princess,” Toji called, smiling impishly.

You approached him, “Good morning. What’s going on?” You were referring to the several bags he had strewn on your horse’s side.

“Oh, we’re going now,” he got up and tucked the dagger in his boot.

“Now?!”

“Yup,” Toji piped. “I suggest we move along when your horse is in a good mood. He seems to hate me for no reason.”

You looked at Reiner, hints of agitation on his equestrian face. You scoffed, “Have you met yourself? My horse is a good judge of character, maybe you did something to upset him.”

“No!” Toji’s jaw dropped. “I pet him, and he tried chomping my arm off!”

You stepped towards Reiner, cradling his face which he seemed to enjoy. “He’s a sweetheart. He only does that when he sees someone as a threat.”

Toji muttered, “Stupid damn horse.”

Reiner got up from his laying position to charge at the hunter and you held your hands up in front of him, “Woah, there, boy. He’s a friend. He’s helping us get to Uncle’s home. Relax.”

“I even gave you food,” Toji furrowed his brows, glowering at the animal as if he were his rival. “Anyway, let’s go. This trip is going to take a few days. I need to get back so I can go back to business.”

You nodded, following him as he mounted your horse. He helped you up, guiding you to slide your hands around his waist for support. You didn’t question anything, understanding that it was his way of helping you. He handed you an apple for you to eat along the way.

“We’re going to cut through the village—Shikigami I mean,” Toji told you. “Then we’re going to go through the town of Starrage and Shadowton county before we get to the capital.”

You groaned, “That’s going to take us days—maybe more than that and that’s if we travel with no breaks.”

“Mhm,” Toji hummed sheepishly. “We probably won’t get there for another week, I’d say. We’d be lucky if we got to Shadowton in five days even.”

You let out an aggravated groan.

“Don’t complain now, darling. You asked for this. If you don’t want to be caught before your parents realize you aren’t at ballerina charm school, you’re going to have to rough it out with this poor archer,” he pointed to himself with his thumb.

“Ballerina charm school?” you squinted. “What the hell?”

“I don’t know what the fuck princesses do,” he answered in defense.

“That was an academy to sharpen my mind in studies and what it takes to be a lady of the court so I’ll be prepared for marriage and being a princess to another land,” you grumbled.

“You don’t want to marry?” Toji asked. “I thought that was every girl’s dream.”

“I do want to get married, just not like this. I want it on my own terms, not my parents’,” you muttered.

“What? You wanna fall in love and have that guy use you to become king or something?” Toji said. “Isn’t that a bit foolish?”

“No, it isn’t. What’s wrong with falling in love? You’re just thinking in the sense of the cheap sicko you are,” you retorted.

“Maybe,” Toji chuckled. “It seems a bit unrealistic. Something from those plays they put together in town square.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you mumbled. “I’ve never been to any town play before.”

“Really?” Toji glanced at you. “They perform them all the time. It’s kinda hard to miss.”

“I’ve only read about romance, I’ve never seen any plays. In fact, this is my first time going to a village outside of my castle.”

“What?!” Toji sharply quizzed. “You haven’t left the castle until now?!” You nodded and he gave you a pitiful look. “No wonder you’re so hopeless. What do you even do in there?”

“Read books in my room, go to the gardens, watch the stars from my window,” you answered softly.

Toji didn’t say anything, instead he let silence take over as the two of you got to Shikigami village.

“I’m thinking you should probably get a new dress,” Toji advised. “Yours is torn, people might label you as promiscuous. I can’t have that. And you have to look like a villager if we keep going or we’ll be seen as suspicious.”

You didn’t respond, opting to just listen to his advice as he led you to a dress shop. Inside he discussed with a deal with the seamstress to let you select a few dresses, apparently, she owed him a favor. After you were in a fresh dress with another pair of them for the rest of the trip, the two of you continued to trek through the village, reaching the outskirts as you entered another forest yet again.

You two continued with the small talk again as you reached the town of Starrage. It was nightfall, your horse was incredibly tired and so were the two of you.

“I know a guy. He’ll let us stay here for a while,” Toji informed you as the two of you dragged your feet to a hostel.

A brown-haired man opened the door, he was muscular with broad shoulders and he had big brown eyes. He seemed cheerful enough, yelling, “Toji! My favorite hunter dude. How are you? And who’s this beauty you’re with?”

The unnamed man bowed his head, taking your hand to place a courteous gentlemanly kiss on the back of it, “My apologies, I’m Takuma Ino, owner of this establishment.”

“Hello, I’m Y/n,” you answered with a small smile.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he winked.

“Ino, we’re on our way to the kingdom’s capital. We traveled all day, mind if we crash for here for a night or two?” Toji had a frown on his face.

“Stay as long as you want,” Ino nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll take you to your room.”

“Oh, we have separate rooms, right?” you asked politely.

“We only have one available room, I’m all booked,” Ino said with a frown. “I thought you would want to share the same room since you’re together.”

“We aren’t together like that,” Toji explained crossly. “We’re together for business. We’ll be out of your hair by morning. Just take us to the room.”

“Alright, I’ll have the guys take your horse to the stables for the night. I’ll bring you two something to eat, too,” Ino said before leading you up the stairs.

He opened a door for you and wished you a goodnight right as he left. The room was small, only a single small bed inside and a few pieces of furniture here and there.

“You can take the bed, your majesty,” Toji groaned. “I can just go out to the stables and sleep there.”

He turned to grab the doorknob but as if your hand had a mind of its own, it shot out to grasp his arm. He looked to face you.

“No, stay here with me. I don’t like to be alone,” you spoke softly.

The archer stared at you for a moment in silence, but obliging nonetheless. He sat down with you as you quietly began eating the meal Ino had left for you.

“Where are you from? I thought you’d be from Shikigami village, but you must’ve moved around a lot. How come you live in the forest a mile away?” you asked after a few moments.

“I’m not from there. My family . . . lives in the capital. I just like being on my own. I hunt and stuff, it’s how I make my living. The village pays a high price for my archery skills,” he replied to you.

The words that came out of his mouth were hardly believable. Even though you spent much of your time in the castle, that much you could tell—there was something he wasn’t telling you about his family.

“You are from the capital,” you stated, eyes low. “Why would you leave for a life of searching for scraps?”

He didn’t reply immediately, he had his pretty eyes transfixed on the ground, “My family never liked me. It’s easier to be away from them rather than with them.”

“Why didn’t they like you?” the offense in your voice sounded like you were the one insulted, not him. It made him study your face. Closely. He saw hurt and confusion on your face and he wanted to remind you that he was the one that should’ve held that look. But why would you even care?

“They thought I was weak, punished me pretty often for it,” Toji frowned.

“Weak?” you scoffed, facing your food again. “That’s ridiculous.”

Toji chuckled, “Yeah, it is pretty ridiculous.”

“You’re the most strongest man I’ve ever met,” you said, taking another bite.

Toji pursed his lips, blinking sheepishly as he watched you eat. He hardly can think, his heart felt like it was masking his ears, like it was all it could hear. He shook his head, facing away again.

“I didn’t want to take their path, so they work for royalty and what not,” he said.

“Oh, I see,” you breathed softly. “Does this have to do with why you worked with the Zenin Clan?”

“The Zenins . . .” Toji muttered, “were the ones who thought I was weak.”

“You . . . are a Zenin?” you quizzed, brows raising. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You’re you, that’s why,” he said like he was waking up from a deep slumber.

“You left them because of how they treated you?” you frowned. “Not just because of work?”

He tensed up, but his tone seemed unwavering, “They exiled me from the family estate and shunned me when I was sixteen.”

He was a child. He needed his family, and they threw him out on the streets, no wonder he doesn’t like the nobility.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you murmured.

“Don’t be sorry, princess,” he answered stoically. “Don’t really care all that much. It’s been seven years”

“You know, the knights could use an experienced archer like you. I’ve never seen a knight shoot an arrow as well as you do. I could arrange for you to come to the city. It would probably be better than those woods,” you pointed.

He chuckled, “I’m in no mood to be a slave for the royal family. I’m okay just where I am.”

“Why don’t you join your friend here then? How come you’re alone?”

“People always gave me strange treatment, like I was some nuisance. It didn’t bother me but it’s fun to just be on your own,” Toji gave you the short version of his answer.

“That’s a sad life,” you sighed.

Toji said nothing in response for a second, proceeding to shortly say, “So is being locked up in a castle with no free will.”

He was expecting a shoe to be thrown at him or some angry comments in return, but you chuckled softly, “I guess that’s true. I haven’t had this much fun in my life.”

Toji peered down at you, watching as you patted your mouth with a handkerchief.

“Well, good night, Toji,” you moved to the head of the bed. “I hope the floor doesn’t bother your back too much.”

And with that, you pulled the covers up and he let out a disdained huff.

The next day seemed more promising than before, Reiner wasn’t trying to chew on Toji’s hair and they seemed to be getting along a bit better than before. You were well fed, freshly bathed, and well rested, too. The trip also seemed a bit more fun as you explained the plot of certain books you read in the castle library to Toji.

“He dies to save her?” he quizzed.

“Yup,” you exclaimed. “Isn’t it romantic?”

“There’s nothing romantic about death,” the archer shot back.

“I mean the fact he died to protect her,” you purred. “His love for her was so pure.”

“Only thing pure was the poison he drank,” Toji mumbled.

“Ugh, you’re simple-minded. You’ll never understand,” you ruffled your skirt a bit.

Toji understood alright, he just didn’t see the point in it. But the way you got so excited while explaining a story made him want to hear more.

“Tell me another story,” Toji suggested. “Maybe one where they both don’t die.”

You rolled your eyes as you began explaining another novel you liked.

Although you both thought it would be impossible to reach Shadowton by the end of the week, you did end up making it to a ranch owned by another one of Toji’s friends.

“Thank you, Shiu,” Toji smirked somewhat genuinely.

“Yeah, whatever,” Shiu responded. “If you two need anything, I’ll be in the house.”

“Thank you so much,” you said as he walked away towards his house in the distance. You turned to Toji who was setting up a place for himself to sleep on the floor. “I can sleep on the floor this time.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he argued. “If I’m uncomfortable or anything I could just go and sleep in the living room up in Shiu’s house.”

That house was a far walk from Shiu’s guest house which the two of you were in. You knew he wasn’t going up there just because you’d get scared being all alone. Now that you thought about it, he was doing all in his power to make you feel comfortable and safe from the moment you met.

“What are you going to do when you get the money?” you blurted.

A little stunned by your sudden query, he blinked, staring at you. “I-uh, haven’t thought about any of that. I’ve been thinking and I had something to tell you. You don’t need to give me anything in return. Just go to your uncle’s and get him to convince your parents to choose your own life.”

Your lips parted, “You . . . don’t want the gold?”

“Yeah, keep it. I’ll just make sure you’re safely where you need to be and I’ll just go back to my hut,” he shrugged.

You stepped towards him, “Listen, I’m grateful for your help. I’d feel terrible if there was nothing I could do in return.”

He waved his hand dismissively, “Nah, I’m okay. I’ll just go to see a friend of mine there and I’ll be on my way back.”

“To be alone again?” you asked timidly, stepping towards him. His breath wavered as you drew nearer. “Toji, you seem like you don’t care about being lonely all the time, but you’ve also been having a lot of fun the past few days—with me—not being alone by yourself. Why would you want to go back to that?”

“I . . .  don’t,” he replied, wearing a grim expression as his heart picked up speed.

“Me neither,” you said.

He suddenly chuckled, throwing you off guard. His pretty black hair fell into his eyes, “I can’t believe I had to act as your chauffeur the last week.”

“Hey!” you pointed. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

“Never said I didn’t,” he sighed, looking at you—longingly.

You both stared at each other, not noticing how close you two were getting with each passing moment. His sharp green eyes flicked between yours and your lips. You couldn’t seem to understand why your hands were quivering or why you couldn’t stop them. Slowly, you both leaned in, closing your eyes as your lips finally met. It was a soft kiss, no force behind it.

Just two people teetering on the edge of a cliff, baby steps before deciding whether to dive in or not. So, your lips brushed against each other’s with feather lightness.

When your lips parted, you shared another look, not saying anything before you leaned more into the kiss again. Toji cupped your face as you gripped the front of his shirt, craning your neck up since he was undeniably tall.

He moved your head to the side, angling your jaw to deepen the kiss. His touch was gentle, his thumb slowly outlined your cheekbone. And one of the things that stormed your mind was how tender his touch was ad how rough of an exterior he had—this big tough man being so soft and gentle.

The archer bent his neck down more while simultaneously pulling you closer to him. He bit your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly so he could slide his tongue in, prompting a soft moan from you.

Your hands were bunching up the fabric of his shirt, tugging it upwards. He understood what your intention was, there was no need for verbal instructions. With his mouth still on yours, he dragged his shirt off his body, parting from you for a brief moment to slide it off his head before he went back to hungrily kissing you.

Your hands moved to cradle his cheeks, letting his tongue clash with yours as his own hands slid down to your waist. You had only read about the immense pleasure of intimacy in books, the actual experience itself was drastically better than inked letters on parchment.

His mouth traveled down your jaw and neck, pressing hot open mouth kisses wherever they’d touch. His teeth grazed your shoulder, letting them sink into your skin. His lips were searing into your body, teeth marking you up like you were one of his prey.

You let your fingertips trace his toned muscles. As much as you told him you didn’t like him being alone in the woods, you had to admit, it did do him justice, maybe being alone wasn’t so bad. It led you two to each other, right?

You sighed when his large hands continued to roam your body, coming back up to the collar of your frilly nightgown. He stopped kissing you for a moment, pulling back to drag the sleeves off your shoulder, making it simpler for your white gown to slip off your body.

As the cotton dress fell to the floor, Toji’s eyes lingered on your bare frame. Only your panties on at this point, and he knew that getting the princess this naked was enough to be considered treason.

He could not give a fuck though because Toji pulled you flush against his torso, lips back on you yet again as he guided you towards the bed.

He let you fall back onto the mattress, letting you crawl back so he could loom over you. Your eyes stayed on every bit of him, soaking in all that he was. Tall, muscular, arms veiny and strong. Face pretty and handsome all at once, practically glistening in the pale moonlight.

He leaned in and your finger traced the curve of his mouth, then that scar on the corner of his lips. You pressed your lips to it, kissing it before you felt his tongue slide across yours, a sudden animalistic incline in his tempo.

The man pulled away for a brief moment, looking at you in the eyes as if he was expecting you to suddenly remember you were the princess to a prestigious kingdom and sleeping with him did not fall into your line of duty. But you stayed silent, eyes begging him to touch you again. And so he did.

His hands cupped your tits, squeezing them and drawing out heinous noises from you. He bent down, kissing between the valley of your chest, eyes flicking up at you. He moved to wrap his mouth around your nipple and you squirm.

Your back arched off the mattress as he sucked and licked your boobs—the air in the room felt too hot and too cold all at once. You couldn’t even decide between all the panting but all you knew was that you loved this.

“What do your little books tell you about this?” Toji teased, biting your pert nipple and burying his face in your chest.

“D-don’t make fun,” you shivered. “I could have you thrown in prison.”

“Let me show what can get me exiled first then,” Toji joked, licking up the mound and dragging his tongue to the side of your neck.

He looped his fingers through the side of your panties before dragging them off your legs, discarding them in some forgotten corner of the room. You watched shamelessly as he pulled down his pants along with his underwear.

A panicked gulp traveled haphazardly down your throat as you gawked at his muscular frame. Your parents would be mortified if they knew you were in bed naked with a mere hunter—exiled family member of the Zenin Clan to make matters worse. But that didn’t stop you when Toji littered loving kisses on your shoulders, lips finding their way down to your tits.

His mouth latched onto your perked nipple, the flat of his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud as his fingers made their way between your thighs.

When his fingers grazed your folds, you threw your head back into the sheets, panting harder. His thumb circled over your clit, making you squirm underneath him. He couldn’t help but crack a smile at how wet you were, desperately wanting to tease you about how you might’ve read about things like this in your prim little books.

“Have you never touched yourself before, princess?” he smirked with half-lidded eyes.

The question felt like a it came out of left field; a sudden nerve being struck at the lewd ask. Your conflicted look was enough to throw him over the edge, you turned your face away and stammered, “I-um . . .”

He inched his finger into your opening, lips hovering over yours as he keenly watched your face contort in pleasure. But he paused, bringing you back to your senses as you shot him a confused look, expecting him to have done more.

Before you could ask him anything though, he moved back, staring down at you as he brought his mouth down to plant kissed on your thighs. A shaky gasp left the back of your throat, and the man had to stop himself from letting his emotions get the better of himself and fuck you right then and there, but he knew . . . it was your first time, he had to be gentle.

“Who knew the princess could be so lewd?” Toji teased, his breath fanning over your cunt as he leaned in closer.

You whined, making him let out a low laugh.

“I guess I’ll be the only one to ever know,” he whispered right before he placed a languid lick from the bottom of your slit to the top.

The moan leaving your lips had desperation and pleasure laced intricately together, wordlessly begging him for more. How could he possibly resist you, especially with the way your fingers were woven in his hair, tugging and grazing his scalp so wantonly.

One of his hands were wrapped around your thigh while his other hand worked to rub your clit, occasionally flicking his tongue over it as he placed soft kisses on your mound.

It wasn’t meant to be sudden, but it seemed like it when his tongue prodded into your opening, running itself along the slickness of your walls. An unforgiving yank at his hair seemed well-deserved, but he didn’t let that stop him from angling his head to let his muscle hit deeper inside you, his nose rubbing against your swollen clit.

The deep rumble from his throat added for an extra stimulation, making your toes curl and your body to writhe under his touch even more. Squeals and short breaths from your mouth were all sending his blood rushing, good thing you couldn’t see. 

You were beginning to shake uncontrollably, your lip tucked between your teeth to hold back your moans. His warm eyes were transfixed on your face, noting the way your brows were knitting and your back was arching in sheer ecstasy.

He retracted his tongue from your entrance, spitting on your pussy so lewdly, and making you gasp. He began rubbing his saliva over your slit, spreading it and making you even wetter before going back to eating you out.

A heat was pooling in your gut, something making your legs tremble and your shoulders jerk in a cold shiver. You cried out, coming all over his tongue which he laid out flat to lap up your secretions.

He never stopped rubbing your clit, even while he was licking up your cum. Your face was flushed, a burning sensation fluttering across your cheeks as you basked in the afterglow. Toji finally pulled back, lips darting out to wet his lips as he pulled you by your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

He studied your flustered state. Your hair fanned out in an unruly yet perfect manner, a sheen of sweat on your face from the effects of your orgasm, and your glossed over eyes staring back at him. For the first time, he didn’t see a princess. He saw you, just you.

The thought of your kind eyes and warm smile were enough to make his heart flutter, making him a bit more nervous than he expected. He bent down, kissing your lips as he wrapped his hand around his cock, guiding it to your entrance.

“This might hurt a bit,” he mumbled against your lips. “I’ll go nice and slow.”

You nodded, eyes hazy as you felt him inching his way into your soppy walls. He was huge, it felt like he was splitting you open on his cock.

You softly moaned into his mouth, the vibration making his pulse quicken. The feeling of him inside you stretching you out caused you to grip his upper arm, fingernails prickling his skin. He pulled back, keeping his eyes locked on you as he drew his hips back before snapping them against yours.

A choked gasp was all you could sputter at the sudden action, he rocked his hips again, this time slow and deep. Your hands went to his back, nails trailing down in response to his movements as he kept thrusting, picking up speed as he went on.

Toji hissed at the sensation of your fingers running down his back, burying his head in the crook of your neck with shaky pants gracing your ear. Your legs mindlessly wrapped themselves around his waist, toes curling in reaction to the tip of his cock rutting against the entrance of your cervix repeatedly. Your walls were beginning to clamp around him, pulling him in deeper and producing obscene sounds where the two of your bodies met.

He groaned lowly, his forehead pressing onto yours now as you felt him throb inside you. One of his hands tangled in your hair while his other one stroked your waist, occasionally grabbing at your hip to draw you closer to him.

“Does it feel good?” he asked breathlessly. “Doesn’t hurt right?”

You hummed, shaking your head and snaking your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“Good, you’re doing such a good job,” he murmured. “You feel . . .you feel fucking perfect.”

Tears formed in your eyes from the sheer intensity of the pleasure. At times, you couldn’t understand the appeal of sex when you read about it, but the reality of it changed your mind completely.

A strangled breath from him let you know he was close, same thing with the way your jaw hung loosely. His breathing became unsteady and through gritted teeth, he choked out your name.

With another few strokes, a rush of liquid gushed out, pouring into your cunt. You threw your head back when you were becoming undone as well, for the second time that night.

He didn’t move to get up and get dressed or leave the room like you half-expected him to. Toji stayed right where he was, lifting his head to look down at you.

He wasn’t sure exactly what to say. What was the right thing to say?

Hey, sorry maybe fucking the princess wasn’t the best idea. After all, your parents could toss me into some dungeon and have me decapitated. I’ll be on my way now!

He stayed quiet, but he couldn’t look away or lift a finger. Thoughts flooded his mind as he gaped at you. Thoughts about how you both still had a decent chunk of the trip left, and how you were on your way to potentially be matched with a suitor, that prince from the next kingdom over. It was making his blood boil, thinking of how another man would get to have you. It seemed unfair, especially when he knew he had a status nowhere near what you or your parents had planned for.

That was if you even wanted him.

You pushed his hair out of his eyes, cupping his cheeks and bringing him down to meet your lips again. This time, the kiss was tender, your lips lingering on his a moment longer than anticipated.

You didn’t let go of him, though, instead whispering, “It’s okay, I’m not planning on telling anyone.”

He sighed, “That’s not what I’m thinking.”

You cocked a brow, “Oh? What is it then?”

Toji’s mind faltered for a bit, the usual mouth-running attitude was in hiding, “You’re probably getting married soon. You . . . you’re practically engaged.”

You blinked twice slowly, pursing your lips, “I don’t care about a prince. That’s not what I want.”

Your words were like medicine, or some sort of drug, they were healing him and making him feel like he could fly or do something ridiculous like that. Being in the entraps of the Shikigami forest had been a shield to protect himself from the people of the outside world. Sure, he had his fair share of sex from time to time but this, this was different. There was never a moment in his god forsaken life he had felt the need to put someone else before him. Not until he stumbled across you, of course. He was almost half grateful a bear had chased you that night, because it led you to his arms.

“Y/n . . .”

You grinned childishly, “You called me my name.”

“Huh?” he sputtered.

“You called me by my name,” you repeated, still beaming. “You always call me by my official title, but you said my name.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, which was a little humorous considering he was on top of you still.

“No, I like it, makes me feel a bit normal,” you explained.

“If that’s what you want,” Toji offered a small smile. “But you—you’re serious?”

You nodded.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of a horse in the distance stirred you two out of your little world. You both giggled, recognizing the horse to be Reiner in the stables.

He was still facing the window with a little smile on his face, you pushed him over, bending down to kiss him again.

“I should probably let you get your beauty sleep, I’ll go on to my set up,” he murmured.

“No,” you shook your head. “Stay with me . . . at least for tonight.”

He was frozen, the way your thumb circled his cheek was making them burn up, but nonetheless, he nodded.

He reached down to pull up the blanket, covering both your bodies and nuzzling you closer to his side, not even bothering to think about how you still had a long way to go.

hope you enjoyed! likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[honeyhaeya]

🍪last christmas - y. jeonghan☕

y. jeonghan x gn!reader

december with seventeen ! 2/13 tags: jeonghan x reader, jeonghan fluff, seventeen fanfiction, holiday au, ex au, christmas love story, fluff, bittersweet love, exes to lovers(?), happy ending, romance, reader insert, cozy vibes. kisses (mwuah) genre: romance, fluff, christmas, holiday au, slice of life, really mild angst warnings: none (it’s pretty wholesome, so unless you have themes of anxiety or past trauma you have with past relationships, there should be no need for any major warnings) wc: 3050 (xp) a/n: 2/13 ! 11 to go =] PLAY LAST CHRISTMAS BY ARIANA GRANDE (her ver.) RN !

the festive glow of the christmas market wrapped around you like a warm hug, but tonight, the warmth felt bittersweet. the familiar stalls with twinkling lights and the scent of cinnamon in the air stirred memories you had tried to bury for the past year.

walking through the bustling crowd, you hadn’t expected to see him again. yet there he was, standing at a gingerbread stall, his profile illuminated by the golden light of a nearby lantern. jeonghan.

he looked the same and yet… not. his long coat flared slightly with the evening breeze, and his hair fell in soft waves, framing his face perfectly. for a moment, you froze, unsure whether to approach or slip away unnoticed. but as if he could sense you, his gaze shifted, locking onto yours.

“y/n,” he said, his voice carrying easily over the noise of the crowd. there was no mistaking the surprise—and something softer—in his tone.

you managed a polite smile, your heart doing an unwelcome flip. “hey, jeonghan.”

“it’s been a while,” he said, his lips curving into a small smile as he stepped closer. “how have you been?”

“good,” you replied curtly, though the word felt hollow. “you?”

“better now,” he said smoothly, and you could’ve sworn his eyes sparkled with mischief, just like they used to. “how’s your sweet tooth holding up?”

your brows furrowed, and then he nodded toward the gingerbread stall. “remember how you used to drag me here for those cookies?” he asked, his smile widening at your obvious surprise. “they still sell them, you know.”

“you remember that?” you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

he laughed softly, a sound that felt like a warm breeze in the cold air. “of course i do. i remember a lot of things.”

the weight of his words hung between you, and for a moment, you both stood there, caught in the push and pull of shared history.

“want one?” he asked, gesturing to the stall. “my treat.”

against your better judgment, you found yourself nodding.

minutes later, the two of you were wandering through the market together, gingerbread cookies in hand. the conversation was light at first, filled with comments about the stalls and the crisp winter air. but every so often, his gaze would linger on you a moment too long, and you’d feel the familiar tug of emotions you thought you’d moved past.

when you stopped at a stall selling handcrafted trinkets, your breath hitched. this was the same stall where jeonghan had bought you a small snow globe last year—a delicate thing with a tiny couple standing under a snow-laden tree. you still had it, tucked away in a drawer because you couldn’t bring yourself to throw it out.

“y/n,” he said softly, pulling you out of your thoughts. “wait here for a second.”

before you could respond, he’d slipped away to speak with the vendor. moments later, he returned, holding a small box wrapped in festive paper.

“what’s this?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“just open it,” he said, his smile soft and almost… shy?

you hesitated but eventually unwrapped the box. inside was a tiny ornament—a snowflake carved out of wood, intricate and beautiful. your chest tightened as you realized it was from the same vendor who had made the snow globe.

“i saw it and thought of you,” jeonghan said, his voice quiet. “you used to love snowflakes, remember?”

“i… yeah, i do,” you murmured, running your fingers over the smooth edges of the ornament.

“i know i messed up last year,” he said suddenly, his tone turning serious. “but i’ve been thinking a lot about us, about what went wrong. and if there’s even a small chance you’d let me make it up to you, i’d take it.”

you stared at him, his words leaving you momentarily speechless. the market buzzed around you, a blur of lights and laughter, but all you could focus on was him—the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability in his posture.

“it’s not that simple, jeonghan,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “we can’t just pick up where we left off.”

“i know,” he said, nodding. “i’m not asking for that. but maybe… we could start fresh? as friends, even. just… give me a chance to prove that i’ve changed.”

his words hung in the air, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of hope—small and fragile, but there.

“we’ll see,” you said cautiously, though a small smile tugged at your lips.

jeonghan’s face lit up, and he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “that’s all i’m asking for.”

as the snow began to fall softly around you, the festive glow of the market grew even more magical, with each snowflake dancing in the air before settling on the ground. the cold, however, was beginning to bite, and you shivered slightly, rubbing your hands together for warmth.

jeonghan, noticing your discomfort, glanced down at you before shrugging off his long coat. "here," he said, draping it over your shoulders before you could protest. despite the warmth of his coat, you could feel the chill on his face, his breath visible in the cold night air.

"you'll freeze," you pointed out, though you couldn't deny how nice it felt to have something warm around you.

he smiled, though there was a slight tremble in his voice. "i'm fine. i've survived worse."

the two of you continued walking, your steps crunching in the snow, your arms brushing occasionally as you moved together through the market. you glanced over at jeonghan, but he seemed lost in thought, his gaze far off, distant. you weren’t sure what to make of the silence between you two—whether it was comfortable or uncomfortable—but before you could dwell on it, you felt his hand brush yours again. this time, it lingered for a split second, just enough for a jolt of warmth to shoot through your fingers.

your heart skipped, and you looked up to see him looking at you, his eyes momentarily soft. he cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "cold, huh?" he muttered.

"just a bit," you replied, your breath puffing in the air.

you continued walking, but there was a newfound tension between you, something unspoken but palpable. the moment lingered, filling the air with a subtle kind of anticipation.

when you reached a hot cocoa stand, jeonghan stopped in front of it, his hand reaching for his wallet. "hot chocolate?" he asked, voice light again, as if the brief moment of vulnerability had never happened. you nodded, though you couldn't shake the feeling that he was trying to keep things casual.

"let me at least be useful for once," he said with a small chuckle as he handed over the money, his eyes still carrying that same mixture of humor and regret.

you raised an eyebrow. "you're always useful," you teased, though the joke felt strangely hollow in the moment.

he smiled at you, but there was something wistful in the way his lips curled. he handed you your cocoa, and you both stood there for a moment, sipping in comfortable silence, the snow continuing to fall around you like soft whispers of the past.

as you both stood there, the cold seemed to settle deeper, the warmth of the cocoa barely enough to chase it away. your eyes flicked to jeonghan, who was rubbing his hands together to warm them up. without thinking, you reached for your scarf, unraveling it from your neck and holding it up between you.

"here," you said softly, your fingers brushing his as you pulled him closer, wrapping the scarf around his neck. his breath caught for a moment as you tugged him gently toward you, your fingers grazing the soft fabric of his coat as you adjusted the scarf to fit snugly.

jeonghan's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face, but it quickly softened into something more tender. "you sure?" he asked, his voice low, almost shy.

"yeah," you replied, your voice barely a whisper as you let the scarf rest around him. you couldn't help but notice how close he was now, his warmth mixing with yours in the cold night air. his breath mingled with yours, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you.

he smiled, his eyes softening as he met your gaze. "thank you," he murmured, the words carrying more weight than they should.

you swallowed, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. "no problem," you said, voice barely steady as you pulled away, but not too far. "just... don’t freeze, okay?"

he chuckled, the sound quiet but full of something unspoken. "i’ll be fine with you looking out for me."

you both fell into a comfortable silence, walking through the market side by side, the scarf between you like a quiet promise.

as you two wandered further into the market, the atmosphere seemed to shift—quieter, more intimate. the noise of the crowd faded, replaced by the soft crunch of snow beneath your feet and the gentle hum of christmas songs playing from a nearby speaker. the air felt different here, as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

you found yourself under a canopy of twinkling christmas lights, their soft glow reflecting off the snow and casting a warm, golden hue around you. everything felt more magical in the moment, as though the lights were pulling you closer together.

you looked up at the lights, your heart beating a little faster, when you felt his fingers brush against yours. at first, it was a simple, fleeting touch, but then his hand lingered, and he gave a gentle tug, silently asking for you to hold his hand.

your breath hitched, your pulse quickening as you turned to meet his gaze. his eyes were soft, but there was something deeper there—something almost unreadable, like he was waiting for you to make the next move. his fingers curled around yours, steady and sure this time, as if he was no longer afraid of what this moment might mean.

you didn't pull away. instead, you let the warmth of his hand seep into yours, your heart fluttering in your chest. the world seemed to hold its breath as you both stood there, a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air between you.

"y/n," he said softly, his voice low, as if he was testing the weight of your name on his lips again. "this... this feels different."

you nodded slowly, not trusting your voice, but the feeling in your chest told you everything you needed to know. this was different. this moment, under the soft glow of the lights, was something new. something more than what it had been before.

he squeezed your hand gently, as if reassuring himself that this was real. "i'm not asking for much," he continued, his words soft but filled with sincerity. "just... just a chance to make it right."

you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. the world felt small, just the two of you, and for a moment, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something different.

you didn’t pull away, didn’t say anything more. you just held his hand, the connection between you both deepening in the silence that followed.

as you both continued strolling through the market, the twinkling lights overhead creating a soft glow around you, a new sense of ease seemed to settle between you. the tension from earlier, while still lingering, melted away with every laugh and playful comment shared between you two.

you stopped in front of a stall selling christmas hats, each one more ridiculous than the last. jeonghan picked up a red reindeer antler headband and placed it on your head with a dramatic flourish.

“perfect,” he said with a grin, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “now you’re ready for the holiday season.”

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest couldn't be ignored. you swatted playfully at him. “you look ridiculous,” you teased, picking up a matching pair of antlers for yourself.

“i look festive,” he shot back, adjusting the antlers on his head like a crown.

you both burst into laughter, your giggles mixing with the sounds of the market. it felt so easy, so light, like the weight of the past year had been temporarily forgotten under the glow of the christmas lights.

after a moment, you wandered over to a stall selling tiny christmas trees, each one covered in glitter and tinsel. jeonghan picked up a small tree and handed it to you with a wink. "for you," he said, voice filled with mischief.

"seriously?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, but your heart melted a little at his thoughtfulness.

"it’s a little tacky," he admitted, "but i think it suits you."

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "you really know how to pick gifts," you teased, cradling the tree carefully as if it was precious.

he shrugged with a grin. "i try." then, without missing a beat, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. "merry christmas, y/n."

your heart fluttered at the unexpected gesture, and you laughed, a bit flustered. "you’re gonna make me sick with all this sweetness, jeonghan."

"that’s the point," he said, smiling that trademark mischievous smile you couldn’t help but fall for.

as the night grew colder, the two of you found your way to a hot cocoa stand, where jeonghan insisted on paying again. "this is the last one, i swear," he said, handing over the money with exaggerated seriousness.

"i’ll hold you to that," you teased, accepting the warm cup he offered.

as you walked together, sipping your cocoa and watching the snow fall gently around you, it felt like time slowed down. there was something magical about the night—the way his hand brushed against yours again, the way the air was thick with the scent of pine and cinnamon, the way you felt so incredibly... content.

eventually, the two of you found yourselves standing outside your apartment building, the night winding down but neither of you quite ready to let go just yet. the lights from the building cast a soft glow on his face as he turned to you, still holding your hand.

“well,” he said, his voice soft, “this is it. i guess i’ll have to walk away from all this magic.”

you couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “you know, it wasn’t so bad, this whole christmas thing.”

he laughed, but there was a hint of sincerity in his eyes as he reached into his pocket. “i had a feeling you might say that.”

he pulled out the small ornament, the snowflake from earlier, and handed it to you with a soft smile. “maybe we can try again next christmas… or sooner,” he said, his words carrying a weight you hadn’t expected.

you blinked, your heart skipping. you hadn’t expected him to say something so vulnerable, so hopeful.

he stepped closer, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. just as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with that familiar tenderness, you surprised him by closing the gap yourself, pressing your lips softly to his.

he froze for a moment, eyes wide with surprise, but then he kissed you back, slow and gentle, the warmth between you building with each passing second.

when you pulled away, your foreheads resting together, he smiled, his eyes filled with something that was almost shy. "i’m glad you decided sooner," he murmured.

you smiled, your heart lighter than it had been in so long. "me too."

“stay?” you invited him softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. you noticed you were still wearing his jacket, the warmth of it oddly comforting, as if it was a silent invitation. you turned away slightly, a bit shy, as if giving him the space to decide, but your heart raced with hope.

“it’s christmas tomorrow,” you added quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of it lingered in the crisp air between you.

jeonghan couldn't help but smile at that, his eyes softening as they met yours. “of course,” he said, his voice low and tender. without hesitation, he stepped closer, his fingers gently tilting your chin up, his touch warm and reassuring. then, as if there was no need for further words, he leaned down and kissed you again.

the kiss deepened, slow and sweet, a promise wrapped in the soft press of his lips against yours. you melted into him, his hand resting on your waist, pulling you closer as the world outside faded into the background. everything that had led up to this moment felt like it was meant to be. when he finally pulled away, you were breathless, cheeks flushed, and your heart pounding in your chest.

somehow, the two of you ended up on your couch, his back against the cushions with him sitting beneath you. you were straddling his lap, his arms around you, holding you close. the space between you was filled with warmth and tenderness, like you'd both found your place again.

your voice was small, a quiet murmur as you rested your head against his shoulder. “don’t give my heart away again the next day,” you whispered, the words familiar and haunting, taken from a song that had once felt like an echo of your past. last christmas i gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away.

jeonghan chuckled softly at that, the sound warm and full of affection. he tilted your face up to look at him, his eyes full of sincerity. “i never gave it away,” he said softly, his voice filled with conviction. then, as if to make sure you knew exactly what he meant, he kissed you again, his lips pressing against yours with a tenderness that left you breathless.

when he pulled away, he kept his gaze on you, his hand resting gently on your cheek. “it’s still in my heart,” he whispered, his words like a promise.

you smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle deep within you. maybe this christmas would be the start of something new—something real, something lasting.

you leaned in to kiss him again, this time with a sense of peace and certainty. you were home, and this time, you weren’t letting go.

a/n: 2/13 ! i update everyday on 10:30 am (our timezones might be different though :]

december with seventeen ! - masterlist

[aaplecore]

The Babysitter

(Agatha Harkness x fem!reader)

Summary: Agatha—your long time neighbor and crush—agreed to take on the tiring job of watching Wanda’s twins for the weekend. Of course she needs some way to de-stress.

Warnings/tags: no smut, just a couple of minor nsfw moments

Notes: Hiii !! This is my first ever post so I have almost no idea how this works or if this is any good… but wtv :)

If you have any tips or suggestions pls share them but also if you have any reqs or ideas (aus, plots, characters, etc) PLEASE tell me !!

Anyway, I hope you like this short, silly little thing <33

It was eight thirty at night. On a Friday. And, for some reason, Agatha Harkness was incessantly dialing you.

For a few years now, you and Agatha had been nextdoor neighbors—to her left—in Westview. It was the perfect town. Almost like living in a sitcom. But, the best part about it was her. You were always over at her house or inviting her over for a glass of wine, talking for hours about anything and everything. She was witty, sarcastic and quite confident—although it definitely worked for her. Each time you two hung out, you felt a familiar flutter in your chest and when she smiled that damn smile a heat between your legs. Plus, you could’ve sworn she was flirting with you. Each time you were together, you’d hear some variation of:

“What a pretty little thing you are… how has someone not scooped you up yet?”

“Well, don’t you look beautiful today? Is this all for me, love?”

“I swear, no one in this neighborhood has any sense of style other than the two of us, doll.”

In that same low, almost gravely, beautiful voice. You figured that was just how she acted around everyone. You just… weren’t quite used to it.

Anyway, you weren’t entirely sure why your neighbor would need your help… especially this late at night. Due to your little crush—and god, that felt so high-school to say, but there really was no better explanation—that you’d been harboring for some time now, your mind was wandering to non-safe-for-work places. But of course it wasn’t that. At least you figured it couldn’t be that.

…And of course it wasn’t (to your dismay). Agatha sounded either like she was about to crush something or start screaming when you finally picked up after the third ring.

“Hi, hon, I need you to come over to Wanda’s house. To the right of mine. I’m… well, i’m having some trouble with the twins. If I don’t have another sane adult to talk to, I will lose my shit. Don’t ask, okay?”

She said quickly, leaving no room for you to argue (not that you would have anyway). Your only question was: why Wanda’s house? And what was Agatha doing with the twins?

Even despite the questions swirling in your mind, you packed up your purse and headed over to Wanda’s house, only a few doors down from yours. As per usual, the lawn was perfectly manicured, nicely trimmed shrubs leading up the pathway to the entrance. You always wondered how she managed to keep it so perfect.

Anyway, after ogling at her house, you knocked on the door and patiently waited for it to open. The only cue that someone was coming was the quick, loud footsteps racing to the door… faster than anyone’s normally should be. Before you could even begin to question what that was about, the door swung open and you saw Tommy standing there, looking up at you. He just… stood and blinked for a second.

“Aunt Agnes! There’s a girl here, what do I do?”

He called out, turning back to look at Agatha… who was walking down the stairs, her normally perfectly kept—and absolutely stunning—dark brown hair was tied up into a messy bun. She was wearing black jeans and a purple sweater over a purple button up with her classic locket pin. And god damn, it shouldn’t be legal for anyone to look this good in that outfit.

She rushed up to the door when she saw you, finally taking a deep breath. Before you could open your mouth to say anything, she is whisking you inside, her arm around your shoulder and the other rubbing your arm. Her hands were warm, and her grip on you was firm. The feeling of her gangly caressing your arm made the butterflies in your stomach flutter for just a second.

“Thank gods you’re here. These kids are going to be the death of me.”

She hissed at you, guiding you into the kitchen so she could at least hide behind a wall and make sure the twins couldn’t hear her—and, really, even disheveled she still looked hot. Distractingly so.

���Wanda and Vision are away for the weekend. They asked me to babysit—god knows why—and did not tell me how goddamn energetic their kids are. I swear to god they’re running on endless batteries.”

She huffs, leaning against the counter opposite to where you’re standing. For a second, you look down to the way her arms look with the sleeves of her purple sweater pulled up. But you quickly pull your eyes back to hers. You’re here to help, not to ogle.

“And… you called me why, exactly?”

You ask, crossing your arms like hers, mirroring the position on the opposite counter.

Agatha just smiles back at you, the grin on her face nothing short of devilish.

“Well, doll, you must know I think you’re quite a… beautiful girl, right?”

She asks, standing off of the counter, looking down at you just a little due to the height difference. You only nod in response.

“Right, so… I figured you could help me… de-stress. I’ve got the boys playing hide and seek and their bedtime is at 9. It’s…”

She glances down at her watch.

“It’s 8:45. Fifteen more minutes, then they’ll be fast asleep… and we have the house to ourselves. It’s high-time we got a little girls time.”

She wiggles her eyebrows at you in a way that tells you she isn’t just asking you to play truth or dare and try an ouija board. For a second, you look as confused as Tommy had when he first opened the door, just blinking at her, your face already hot thinking about what that could possibly mean. What you want it to mean.

“What?”

You ask simply, shaking your head in disbelief. She takes a step closer.

“Listen, hon, do you think i’ve missed the way you stare at me whenever I come over for a glass of wine? I’m not an idiot, darling.”

She laughs, still smirking at you.

“And we both know you understand what i’m asking.”

She is… blunt. That’s for sure. You never expected a call for babysitting help would result in… this. You never even thought this was a possibility. You open your mouth to say something but, before you can, she cuts you off again, coming closer and snaking her hand around your waist, causing a shiver down your spine and a flush to your cheeks.

“By all means, tell me to stop. We can forget about all of this if you want to. I just get the sense that you don’t want to, hm?”

She gingerly tilts your chin up slightly, and by the way she looks at you, you’d guess she’s examining each and every detail of your face. Like she’s trying to memorize the view.

“Right.”

You quickly nod. Agatha smile turns wider, and she grips your waist slightly tighter, pulling you in closer to her while simultaneously holding you against the counter. Her other hand moves from your chin to your neck, and she begins gently running her hand through the hair there, smiling as she does. For a moment, you just stand there like that, her body pressed against yours, tracing light patterns onto your waist, looking down at you like… well, like prey.

“I- I just didn’t think… you would ever think of me that way.”

You stutter, shaking your head as you look at her. She cocks her head to the side as if you’d just asked her for the answer to an obvious question.

“Oh, love, i’ve been flirting with you for months now… was I not obvious enough?”

She asks, laughing quietly, leaning down to speak closer to your ear.

“Anyway, that’s exactly what I was hopping to hear, darling… Although i’m hoping to hear a lot more coming from you later tonight.”

She mutters, leaning in closer to you with a smirk, so that your lips are almost touching. You can feel her breath against your face, smell her perfume—something floral, but woody—and feel the ghost of her lips against yours. Your heart is beating out of your chest and all you want is for her to pull you in just a little more… but she doesn’t. Instead, she drops her hand down to your hip and whispers in your ear again,

“Ten more minutes until the boys bedtime. Then i’ll have my way with you, hon.”

She practically purrs, gripping your hip just a bit tighter, running her lips from your ear down your neck, brushing over your pulse point just enough to make you shiver…before suddenly letting go and walking away as if nothing had happened, a smug smile on her face.

“Meet me in the guest room in ten, doll.”

Still, your heart was beating, your face surely flushed scarlet red by now. You missed her touch. The way she gipped your hip had you clenching around nothing already… and this time none of it was fantasy.

By the time you’d finally got a grip on the situation, you were already walking around to find the guest room. Just to help Agatha de-stress, of course.

[kykyonthemoon]

Where This World Decays

In the sinful and ruined city of Linkon, he met her. She was the family he had sworn to protect with his life. Still, he lost her. Years later, the girl who appeared before him seemed to be an entirely different person. She recalled only his name, while she had forgotten their childhood together. His pip-squeak from the past was dead. The person by his side was now an SSS-level praedator. Regardless of what she became, he would always protect her...

A corrupted councilman. A praedator in the guise of an enforcer. Could there be a safe haven for them in this world?

── .✦ Caleb x MC

── .✦ Tags: R16, AU, dystopian world, dark themes, crimes & mild violence, mental issues implied, trauma, corruption, angst with a little fluff, hurt/comfort, death and resurrection, murder implied, childhood friends, open ending.

── .✦ Word count: over 5000w - a short story divided into five parts.

── .✦ Ky Ky's notes:

MC’s name in this story is Asteria, a name Caleb gave to her when they were little. I chose this name after the titan Asteria in Greek mythology, who is Perses’s wife (Perses is Caleb’s codename in the current event story).

This story is submitted to the Love and Deepspace [Desire Savage, Embrace Tomorrow] Fan Art Contest.

Your support on my X is always appreciated <3

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic (closed for the time being)

I.

…Recent attacks in Linkon have targeted officials, as per reports…

…The body of an LCBI enforcer was discovered in an abandoned warehouse near the Southern District last week. Another enforcer has been reported missing.

…Hydra, an SSS-level praedator, is said to be behind the assaults. The exact identity of Hydra remains unknown. However, new witnesses believe Hydra is female, not male as initially mentioned.

…Up until now, the councilman of the Northern District has yet to respond to charges and pressure from other parties…

The screen in the room grew black. The buzzing noise from the old radio vanished with it. Everything became silent. Beyond the glass pane, the city of Linkon twinkled like stars, delicate in the dense, hazardous night.

He strolled around the room. There was not a wrinkle or a stain on the white uniform he wore. It did not belong here. Yet he needed it as a shield to protect this old watchtower, to protect the person he loved.

He passed through the ages-old door, which led to a darker and colder chamber. There were more than a dozen other antiquated CCTVs on the wall that he had connected to a network, though the only red dot he cared about was in the center, in this room. His gaze landed on the corner. A modest bed was placed there, bound to the floor with chains. On the pure white mattress lay a petite sleeping angel, as if she felt no agony from having her wings shattered and being imprisoned in this place.

He approached her, gently as he wished not to wake her. He sat down on the edge of the bed, removed his glove, and stroked her face. Her drenched hair was brushed aside, revealing the face engraved in his dreams. The touch awoke her. When she turned, the shackles that held her began to creak.

“Caleb?…” She called to him, half asleep. As long as she called, he would always be there.

“How are you feeling, pip-squeak?”

She did not respond straight away. Her eyes opened slowly. As the dark chamber loomed in front of her and the heavy shackles pushed down on her, she appeared fully awake.

"Caleb? Why are you here?"

She struggled to break free from her bounds. However, the more she moved, the more anguish she experienced. He grabbed her hand and softly caressed it.

“Stay still, pip-squeak. You’ll be fine.”

“What happened, Caleb? Did I… Was I in a Frenzied State again?”

His eyes met hers for a moment, then he tried to avoid this uneasy conversation by consoling her more.

“Do you want anything to eat? How about braised chicken wings? I’ll make it for you right away.”

But she was restless. Her voice rose as she called his name:

“Caleb! Tell me! What happened? How long have I been here?”

“Not for long, pip-squeak,” he lied. “You barely realized I was gone to the center of the city and back.”

"I feel like I've been sleeping for forever…" She spoke again. "Can I go outside?"

His fingers gently caressed her heated face. Her entire body felt on fire.

"Just wait a little longer. When you feel better, I'll take you out."

She seemed displeased. However, her expression immediately became quite miserable, to the point that his heart felt like it was being cut and torn apart, as she said:

“Please, Caleb… I don’t like this room… It’s cold… And lonely… Let me out, will you?… Let me stay in my old room… You can chain me there if you want…”

She knew very well that she had him in the palm of her hand. Name it and he would not refuse her anything. But at a time when her safety depended entirely on him, he had to hold her tight, even if it made her angry with him.

Caleb averted his attention away from her depressed expression.

“Stay here for just a few more hours, pip-squeak.”

Like a smoldering fire waiting for the wind to blow, she raged in an aggressive manner. Her pupils dilated, and she laughed in a new burst of mania.

“I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE!”

She was faster than him, stronger than he was in this state. She leaned toward him and pushed him down on the bed. Her physique, ever so much smaller than his, was now utterly dominant. She repeated her words over and over again:

“Let me out! Caleb! I want to be out!”

Her hands clenched into fists, crumpling his uniform. Like a child demanding candy, she poured her anger on his chest. One blow at a time. She could have suffocated him if she had wanted to. He did not protest, instead softly wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her still against his body. When her frenzy subsided, she would collapse on his chest, then he would take his entire world in his arms.

Even so, her frenzy was getting more and more out of control. She had torn off the old shackles a few days before and fled outside. It would require more serum doses to handle her. She would eventually wreck this bed, too, sooner or later.

Fingers crossed that he would get things all sorted out before she did so.

“Caleb hates me, right?” She kept punching him, while a scorching tear streamed from her eyes onto his lips. It felt like salt. “Caleb hates the way I am now, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t hate you, pip-squeak,” he replied. His fingers found her face and wiped away the jewel-like tears. “I promised I would always protect you.”

He made that promise since they were little. The fact that she was a praedator did not change it.

II.

The first time he met her was when they fought over a rotten apple. In the Southern District, a place steeped in sin and chaos, homeless children like them could only survive on what others had discarded. Seeing her so hungry that she almost fainted, he stopped fighting and cut the still nice portion of the apple for her. From then on, she followed him around like a little shadow. She had no idea who she was or where she came from. Perhaps her entire family had died. Nobody came searching for her, and even if they had, she would not remember. She simply knew that following him would lead to safety and better meals.

“I’m Caleb. What’s your name?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t even remember your own name? What should I call you then?”

“Anything you want.”

He raised his head. Through the hole in the ruined canopy above him, he saw the stars dancing together. Perhaps she was like those stars, beautiful and out of his reach. She did not belong in this rotten world.

“Or, I could call you Asteria,” he said after a long moment. “My teacher in the past said it meant star.”

She said nothing. But perhaps she preferred being called pip-squeak, a moniker he had only come up with after a kind man had taken them under his wing. They lived together in an old watchtower. The area had seen its heyday before the Southern District fell into ruins. At least now, they had a roof over their heads.

Caleb once had a family, but there was little joy to recall. The only things that were etched in his mind were of the violent beatings he had from the adults who exploited his Evol to commit unlawful acts. He could control gravity. That was how he evaded the praedator assault that year. He ran away, never looking back at his family as they screamed.

Now he had a new family. For a while, but still a family.

He taught Asteria how to read and write. She learned quickly. She also enjoyed climbing to the top of the watchtower to watch the sunset. However, when she was younger, she had to ask him to use his Evol to bring her up there. He liked having her depend on him, having her follow him around. He liked being the big brother who always protected her.

But he could not safeguard her forever.

That day, the rain poured down as if to wash away all the filth in the Southern District. Asteria, his star, had gone insane and bolted outside. Her small figure faded into the white curtain that the sky had dropped on the ground.

Many hours later, the rain stopped, and he located her in a slum on the outskirts of the area. She lay in a pool of blood that was not her own. He almost lost control.

“She’ll be fine,” the old man said. He was the keeper of this watchtower, the one who had been looking after them both. “Whoever she attacked should be worried by now.”

“She attacked someone?” Caleb asked. He had not yet learned what she was.

“Didn’t you already know? Your sister is a praedator.”

Despite the fact that the sky had cleared, he remained there as if hit by lightning. He glanced at her sleeping figure on the bed for a long, long time. And he convinced himself that her innocence was genuine, that it was not a facade to hide the devil inside her. It was all a twist of fate.

She awoke the next morning, completely clueless with no recollection of what had happened since her disappearance in the rain.

“You're still unwell. Just sleep a little longer, you'll be fine.”

He lied to her. He lied to himself. She obediently curled up in his arms.

“Caleb… Will you stay here?”

Her hand intertwined with his.

“Stay here, and don’t leave me alone, will you?”

He pledged to protect her. Always.

III.

The watchtower keeper who shared their living quarters died soon after. He left the place, along with some cash and his things to two teenagers who were not his blood kin. Only Caleb and Asteria remained, relying on each other.

She became aware that she was a praedator as she grew older. When she was in a Frenzied State, she locked herself in her room and threw the key to him. The more she pushed him away, the more he wanted to get closer and shield her with his own hands, as he had promised. He was willing to be her victim. She never bit him, no matter how upset she was or how many times she assaulted or wounded him.

His Evol was quite effective in keeping her in place. When the frenzy dissipated, she gently slumped in his arms. When she awoke, she would have no memory of what had happened. However, the wounds on Caleb's body did not lie. She noticed them, despite his best efforts to conceal them.

“I am a monster…”

“Hey, don’t say that. You didn't choose this.”

“Compared to being a praedator, death seems to be a much happier choice…”

The wind blew on the watchtower. They sat together, watching the city of Linkon on the horizon, crimson by the dying day. He turned to her and said: 

"I'm glad you survived. So we could meet." 

She looked at him for a moment, then smiled. Perhaps the best thing she had known since becoming a mutant was him.

“Caleb, lower your head.” She told him. He was surprised and inquisitive about what she was up to. He did what she requested and bowed his head toward her.

Asteria put a metal necklace on him. The pendant was a dog tag with some claw marks on it. He looked at it, then back at her.

“For you,” she smiled. “I saved up the allowance you gave me to buy it.”

He fiddled with the necklace, grinning again.

“I gave you the money I got from my part-time jobs to buy food and things for yourself. Yet you bought me a gift.”

She extended her hand to him and said, "If you don't like it, give it back to me." 

“Nooope.” He grabbed the string and slipped it under his outer shirt. “It belongs to me now.”

The sun was fading. The lights encircled them like stars. Neither of them said it aloud, but they both secretly wished that this serenity would last a little longer, just a little longer.

Yet, the merciless night separated them in an onslaught by the praedators.

IV.

He could not find her anymore. The fact that he had lost her, possibly forever, drove Caleb insane. He wandered around calling her name. He turned over each frozen corpse along the way, only to find some relief that it was not her. He followed the hourly news updates, not daring to miss the casualty count or the identities of the praedators. Yet she was gone.

He came to the conclusion that, in order to protect her, he must have power. He was a brilliant young man with a talent for winning people's hearts. Shortly after the incident, he was adopted by an upper-class family in the Northern District. From then, he began to climb the political ladder, eventually rising to the position of a councilman.

He had to. He must gain the authority, the status, all means to find her. And he did. One day, she came before him as an LCBI enforcer. She recognized him in the crowd, yet she could no longer remember any of the memories they had shared, not even the necklace wrapped around his neck.

He never asked her what had happened since their separation. She did not mention it either. But he could put together the events based on what she told him and his own private investigations. 

Asteria had been captured by an organization known as Ever while on the run. They had imprisoned her in a facility far away from Linkon. They must have known the truth about her. During their cruel, inhumane experiments, she had perished. She had died no less than ten times.

And they learned her secret: she was a praedator capable of reviving herself. Each time she returned from hell, her abilities were enhanced. Until one day, she was powerful enough to shatter all the chains and bring Death to those who had repeatedly murdered her. No one survived at that secret base of Ever. Human or praedator, there was no one left alive.

Her frenzy passed, and she discovered the file on herself in a pool of blood. She was unfamiliar with everything except the old photograph tucked inside the file. She must have had it with her when she was brought here. It was her, standing next to a boy with a smile as warm as the sun. That familiar feeling rushed into her heart like an unexpected invader. She broke into tears, without knowing why. Her tears obscured the wording on the photograph: Asteria and Caleb, together forever.

She wandered barefoot, seeking for him. She remembered nothing, except the urge to find him, to be with him. She joined a crowd of refugees streaming into Linkon's city center. Another attack had just broken out, and she had not hesitated to defeat the praedator who stood in her way. The LCBI became aware of her after that occurrence. They came for her, and she accepted to take part in their training program.

It was hard to cover her secret from the enforcers. However, she had successfully deceived the LCBI several times when they were attempting to pursue her other alias, the SSS-level praedator known as Hydra. She even led them to believe that Hydra was a man in the Northern District. Her secret was probably known to only one person: Caleb.

Ever since their reunion, he had been keeping an eye on her. Whether she was Asteria of the LCBI Operations Sector I or Hydra - the praedator; everywhere she went, everyone she interacted with could not escape his gaze from this watchtower.

The first thing he did when he gained both wealth and authority was to quietly renovate their old watchtower. It was not only a shelter, but also a place where he had watched her since she returned. He connected a dozen CCTVs together, each with a surveillance camera positioned in every area he suspected she might frequent. The area she resided in, the office where she worked, and the woodland where she wandered in her Frenzied State... For her, seeing him again was a stroke of luck. For him, it was a meticulously considered chess move.

He granted himself permission to watch over and protect her from a distance. Every time Hydra caused trouble, he was the one who cleaned up the mess. Asteria believed she had thoroughly removed all evidence. However, because she had no recollection of her Frenzied State and relied only on her phone to track where she had been, she had left behind some clues. That was when he got involved.

His chess game appeared faultless. He would soon have complete power over Linkon's government. He would build a secure city for her, a place where praedators would have their own community, completely under the control of the political party he led. Hydra would be declared dead by then, and no one would dig up her secret again.

Caleb was willing to assassinate an opposition party member in order to achieve what he wanted. The politician's death was believed to be related to the praedatos. Ironically, the LCBI sent Asteria to investigate. She was accompanied by another enforcer. Their investigation lasted for months, during which many other praedator attacks across the city broke out. In a moment of negligence, Asteria let her colleague discover her secret. He confronted her, and she was enraged. 

“You… You really are a praedator! You fooled the LCBI, and all of us!”

In his hand was a spray that revealed any praedator's true self when they inhaled.

“No… I didn't… I don’t want this to happen…” She shivered, attempting to fend off the frenzy that was slowly taking over her mind.

“I’ve been secretly gathering evidence on you for months… Hydra! You can’t get away now!”

The enforcer lunged at her. But she was familiar with all of the LCBI equipment and how her colleagues fought in combat. She would not be captured that easily. In the struggle, she knocked him out at last.

“Go home, pip-squeak. I’ll take care of things for you.”

Caleb appeared out of nowhere, like a ray of light that she instantly stretched out to catch. He sent her back to the old watchtower. When she woke up, she had no recollection of any of it, while her colleague had been reported dead.

“Did I… Did I do it?… All I remember was going to the meeting place after that colleague asked to see me… After that, I'm not sure what else happened… Did I…”

Her tears fell. She buried her face in her hands, saying over and over again, “I’m a monster!”

“No,” he reassured. He drew her into his arms and rubbed her back, which was quivering from emotion. “You didn’t do it, pip-squeak. You’re not a murderer.”

For the true murderer was him. Anyone who knew her secret could only reveal it in their grave.

Asteria was devastated. Her Frenzied State continued returning, breaking the pattern that had always existed. She had no choice but to obey Caleb and remain in the watchtower, while everyone else assumed she was missing.

“I will take care of this.”

She only needed to rely on him.

“Pip-squeak, trust me…”

Back in the dark chamber where he had convinced her to stay, he kissed her hair as her head rested on his chest. Her frenzy subsided, leaving just an exhausted Asteria lying unconscious on top of him. Her fingers were still gripping the dog tag around his neck, which served as a reminder of the life she had forgotten. He slowly sat up, loosening the shackles that bound her and picking her up. He took her into the next room, where her comfortable bed awaited.

She trusted him, without a question, despite the fact that she failed to recall their past. She always knew he would do anything for her, and she was safe here.

He tended to every wound she had made while struggling with the shackles. She turned slightly. Her hands sought his and drew him closer.

“Stay… Caleb… Don’t leave me alone…”

He kissed her bleeding hand.

“I will always be by your side.”

V.

In her dream, she witnessed a Linkon without praedators. There, she and Caleb spent their entire lives together, never once apart. There, she was just an ordinary girl staying with the person she loved. When she opened her eyes, reality rushed in with the wind from the open window, carrying with it the familiar unpleasant smells of this place and the blaring sound of sirens.

She got out of bed and gazed at the usually deserted street below the watchtower. A crowd of people were dashing through the neighborhood. Sirens blared red across the block. Another strike occurred fairly near to the watchtower. 

Asteria could smell blood, and the scent of the frenzy was not coming from within her. The shattering and shouting were so close. She knew right away that she had to act. Caleb had removed her communications, but her guns and some LCBI supplies remained in the watchtower.  Carefully armed, she exited the building.

What she was doing may harm herself, reveal her whereabouts, and perhaps expose Caleb's scheme. Yet she could not abandon her neighbors to face the vicious praedators who had arrived without an invitation. She estimated how long it would take for the military and LCBI to come, and it might be a bit late. She chose to act alone.

On the way, she rescued a little girl who had been captured by a praedator. The child held her neck, constantly asking to be taken back to her family.

“Miss, can you take me back to my brother?… Please help me… I can’t find my brother anymore…”

And so she took the little girl’s hand and found a way back to her house. Fortunately, her brother noticed them. He hurried to embrace his sister and thanked Asteria for her kindness. They held hands and ran away after that.

If she and Caleb had found each other again back then, things would have been so different.

She might not have become Hydra. Whenever she went on a frenzy, he would have taken care of her. They would have just lived a normal life, only the two of them in the watchtower. His hands would not be drenched in blood for her.

Without Hydra, things would have been so much easier.

If they hadn’t been separated, if she hadn’t been subjected to countless experiments, if she hadn’t died and resurrected so many times…

If they hadn’t been separated, if she hadn’t been subjected to countless experiments, if she hadn’t died and resurrected so many times…

Those thoughts took over Asteria, rendering her heavy steps. Her head ached. Each scene of memories stained a dreadful crimson came back to her like a movie. They were not clear, but the emotions were so real that her entire body shivered in anticipation of the upcoming frenzy.

“No… Not now…” She whispered. Footsteps were approaching her. Asteria gripped the gun in her hand, alert.

“Are you lost, beautiful?”

The man appeared from the dark as he spoke. He was a praedator.

“Oh, an enforcer? But why aren’t you wearing an LCBI uniform? Where did you come from, love?”

Asteria did not respond to him. She leveled her gun at him, but everything around her began to spin.

“Not an enforcer, huh?… Wait... You are a…”

She heard him say it. Word by word. Praedator.

“No… I'm not…”

She wanted to deny it. She was just a human. She was an enforcer. She was Caleb’s pip-squeak.

“Looks like we’re the same kind. My group is just hanging out in the Southern District. Wanna join us?”

The praedator moved toward her. A moment later, so soon, she was seen walking out of the alley, leaving behind a corpse whose smile was still present.

She was a monster. Any attempt to deny it would simply make it worse.

Asteria departed the Southern District as soon as the LCBI arrived. She left behind the city of Linkon, where Caleb had promised her a home. She headed into the darkness, into the forest.

In the form of a praedator, she ran fast, she left everyone else behind. The more she ran, the more conscious she became. Perhaps this was who she truly was—a monster, a sinner.

Caleb would return to the watchtower and find out she was gone. He would be devastated. He would be broken again. Then he would pick up the pieces of his heart and move on, just as he had moved on after losing her before. She would disappear from his life once more, this time forever.

Little did she know, he had never ceased from being broken.

Even when he found her, even when she was in his arms, he was never completely healed. For she had forgotten him. Day after day, he held onto the hope that the new memories he made with her would outweigh the past, that they would fill the void in his heart. Yet every time she looked at him and failed to see the boy whom she had grown up side by side like a shadow, he was broken once more. The only thing he could do for her was to keep her from everyone who would hurt her; LCBI, Ever, or anyone else.

Then she drifted away from him, like a star in the sky that he could never reach.

He watched the red dot on his phone screen. He decided to miss an emergency meeting. Apparently, someone had dug up a significant amount of evidence against him. Yet, he did not bother to defend himself at the time. Asteria came first above anything else.

He sped after her trail on the screen. The red light flickered in the dense forest and then went dead. The tracker he had put on her was removed.

He would lose everything. He would lose her. Overcome with emotion and terror, he continued to search, and got to her before anyone else.

“Pip-squeak… Let’s go home.”

She was sitting on the edge of a cliff, where a large waterfall nearby poured silver moonlight into a deep abyss below. She turned to face him, smiling.

“You always find me, even when I threw away your tracker.”

“Of course.” He took a step toward her, offering his hand. “I’ll always find you, no matter where you run to. Let's get back now,” he repeated. “To our safe haven…”

“Safe haven? There’s no safe place. As long as I'm a praedator, there’s no place for me to hide…”

“You still have me, pip-squeak. You always have me!”

All of the emotions that had been building up over the years were about to burst. He wanted to embrace her and comfort her till everything was all right again. If she was not satisfied with the old watchtower, he would build her a new home. This time, he would ensure no one would ever find her again.

She slowly rose up to face him. She grinned.

“You should have let me die, Caleb. We should never have met again.”

Her sins would not vanish since she could not truly die. Perhaps this cycle of life and death was the most ruthless curse for someone like her. And she did not want to pull him down with her.

If only he had already considered her no longer existed in this world, wouldn't that be better?

There was the sound of helicopters approaching them, closer and closer. It was the LCBI. Soon, they would have the entire area surrounded.

Even as he stood on the edge, he stretched out to her with calmness. He had already calculated in his mind how to turn the tables; a series of lies to cover up the truth. With his current authority, he could help Asteria vanish from Linkon to a new life completely free of worries. Yet she did not see it the same way as him.

“I was planning to leave without saying goodbye,” she said. “I was planning to walk out of your life in silence. But it would be nice to see you one last time before disappearing. I… I really wanted to see you…”

The sound of footsteps on dry leaves was very close to them. There were about a dozen people racing in this direction. Caleb reached out to Asteria again, then softly spoke:

“Wherever you want, I will help you get there. Even if you prefer to be alone, I'll stop following you. You've always trusted me. What about this time? Let me handle everything for you.”

It was because he would destroy himself for her that she wanted to leave him forever. Asteria gave him a weak smile: “Thank you for always taking care of me…”

The footsteps became closer. The loudspeakers and sirens blended together. It was too late. He reached for her. But he failed to catch her hand.

“Farwell, my Caleb.”

She turned away and let herself fall into the tremendous waterfall.

Don’t go… Don’t leave me alone…

He watched her. Then he leaped.

“Caleb! Use your Evol to get me higher!”

“At your service! How far do you want to fly today?”

“Can you get me to the top of the watchtower?”

“Sure! But be careful or you'll tumble, pip-squeak!”

“I won't! I absolutely trust you, Caleb. Even if I fall, you'll catch me right away.”

She fell. In front of him. As when they were children, he used Evol to keep her suspended in the air, before his crashing body enveloped hers. She was astonished, yet she clung to him like she had done in the past.

If Asteria was no longer here, what was the purpose of the world he had designed for her?

There was no turning back. He, too, would leave everything behind, allowing them both to plunge into the cold, raging torrent that awaited them.

*

* *

In the following dawn, the entire city of Linkon was awakened by a series of frightening news reports:

…A warrant for the arrest of two individuals was issued last night.

…The SSS-level praedator Hydra has been identified as Asteria, a former LCBI enforcer. This is also the person who was reported missing during the investigation last week…

…Caleb, the councilman of the Northern District, is involved in the recent crimes. According to the most recent intel, he and Hydra are accomplices.

The two were last seen at Meteor Waterfall shortly after midnight last night. As of now, the investigation has not progressed further.

For your own and the city of Linkon's safety, please contact the LCBI hotline immediately should you have any information regarding Hydra and Councilman Caleb…

-The End-

[pillow-anime-talk]

jjba month ; fourth day.

synopsis: Giorno and Bruno had no idea that Abbacchio had a younger, quite adorable, little sister.

# tags: scenario; strangers to friends; light drama; kinda comedy; gang!au; drug, death and blood mention; rather sfw

includes: female reader ft. giorno giovanna and bruno bucciarati (ft. rest of the gang in the background) {jjba 5}

author’s note: big bro abbacchio :(((

“… I don’t think this is a good idea, Leone.” You said once more as your brother grabbed the metal handle of the dark door. He just laughed softly under his breath and then turned to you.

“Y/N, I know that my job and my friends aren’t the nicest things in the world, but I promise you that everything will be fine. And if any of them make you feel bad or make fun of you, I’ll just kill him ro them all.” He replied in a serious tone, although you could feel a hint of amusement and joking about the situation in his voice. Of course, you were sure that your older brother would help you if necessary, but uncertainty and fear of your potential being pushed into the background still grew in your heart. And if that happened, you wouldn’t have anywhere to go and nothing to do with yourself; your parents had long since disappeared from your lives, you were doomed to the help of your older brother, he was the only one left in your life.

You responded with a nod, and then entered the small building after your brother. The house, the main and current residence of several men, was small but spacious and had the most necessary things: a bathroom, a few beds and blankets, a kitchen with a coffee machine and a few electronic devices such as laptops, walkie-talkies and GPS transmitters. The most important place seemed to be a table with a few cigarettes and guns on it, around which stood two couches and a few armchairs – that’s where the five men were sitting.

“… Abbacchio, where have you been. We have some things to discuss.” Said one of the men with blond hair. “Where have you been all this t… Oh.”

“This is my younger sister, Y/N. She’ll be staying with us for a while. Maybe longer, if she doesn’t find a job and a room to rent.” Without much trouble, he said to his friends, and then sat down on the couch next to what you thought was the youngest of them all. “Be nice to her, especially you, Fugo.”

“… Abbacchio, I don’t think it’s safe.” One of the men, whose hair was covered with a cap, whispered. “There are too many criminals, smugglers and drug addicts passing by. Something could happen to her.”

“Mista, I don’t think it’ll put her off. She’s more afraid of you not liking her than of blood being spilled during our missions. Besides, I taught her how to use weapons, she once did an internship in my police unit. She also has an extraordinary stand... It will be useful to us during the missions.”

You watched the conversation of the handful of men attentively, and your eyes crossed with the leader of the group and the blond-haired man, who seemed to be slightly worried about the whole situation, more than once. So you forced a light, somewhat charming smile towards both strangers.

At that moment, you could have sworn that the black-haired man choked on air slightly, and the other blushed hard on his cheeks and nose, which seemed funny to you, considering their professions and their earlier, very serious and distrustful expressions towards you.

Well... Maybe working with your older brother’s friends won’t be as scary as you thought at first? Also this whole situation will result in… something interesting.

previous day ; jolyne cujoh, ermes costello & foo fighters ♡ next day ; lisa lisa

[amywritesthings]

Hii, I saw you are working on hallo sleepover and I wanted to send one! Is this the right place to ask for that? I hope it is😭 soo, I checked the promp lists and got really interested in autumn leaves/masquerade ball for levi ackerman x female reader or female oc, whichever you are comfortable with writing <3 I'm really craving for some levi royalty fic these days! Thank you!

hallo-sleepover '24!

...so this was supposed to be a drabble. it definitely isn't. i lowkey went a little insane with this one and wrote it in about two hours. hope u like xo

answers to callings.

pairing: levi ackerman x reader word count: 2.4k tags: medieval au, adult language, prince!levi, reader!knight, childhood friends turned unresolved tension, yearning and pining, first kisses, masquerade ball, dancing credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

You know better.

When Prince Levi invites you to a masquerade ball, it shouldn’t be taken as an invitation to stride on his arm. Protecting the crown is your sworn oath. He’s obligated to ask you, his royal guard, to attend the Autumn Masquerade Ball for his safety.

And when he suggests to dress for the occasion (as you see fit, added hastily within the margins of his quill) it strikes you as odd. Not because of the lack of instruction, no: the prince has not once tried to dictate what you wear in his presence, a rare feat for a man standing in front of a woman.

He sees you in the image of the little girl who grew up beside him, the rambunctious friend, the formidable ally who never saw him as a burden with a golden crown.

You should know better than to ever presume it’s a true opportunity for courtship, as knights are sworn to bow to their dutiful crown.

Although he was your best friend many moons ago, the only man you could have ever seen yourself standing beside on an altar in a white dress—

Seasons have changed. 

Years have passed.

He is the kingdom’s prince, not yours.

But why else would he have requested for you to dress for the occasion, as if your metallic exoskeleton protecting your true feelings and heart could be forgotten for the evening?

(You won’t receive an answer until you take the leap of faith.)

As opposed to greeting him at the door of his bed chambers in chainmail, you fidget with your fingers tucked under long, olive green sleeves. Velvet adorns your body, softening your silhouette as the skirt drags along the stone floors.

When Prince Levi opens his door — dressed head to toe in the family emeralds, the family brooch set upon his heart — he stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you. His stormy gray eyes fall without once looking at your face.

Oh.

Perhaps he only meant the scribbled afterthought as a jest.

You take a step back, the click of your shoe echoing against the large expanse of the corridor.

“There’s still time for me to change into my—”

“You wore the crown’s colors,” he observes in monotone, cutting off your worried rant.

His colors, more precisely.

Your face burns as you nod. “I thought it would be fitting. My armor holds the crest, and if a dress cannot do the same, then its fabric must bear its color.”

You can’t remember the last time you wore a dress around the prince. At the very least, you were both small and still so naive. 

His father and yours, king and kingsguard all the same, allowed you both the luxury of spending what little youth you had as explorers, adventurers, in a life where Levi would never need to wear a crown and you would never lose him.

When you grew older and realized how little you’d see of him as a kingsguard’s daughter, you chose knighthood: pledging allegiance to a friend, your only friend, for the rest of your mortal days and beyond.

“So it was done out of obligation?” he asks flatly, brow disappearing under the black fringe of his hair as it rises to question you.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Of mockery, then.”

“My lord—”

“Because if you had worn your armor, then it would have presented me an opportunity to offer a change myself so that we could appear to the royal court in our battle wear, further pissing off my father, and therefore shortening this ball altogether.”

The corner of his lip ticks. 

Oh.

He’s joking.

(Although little humor can be found by the crown, that rebellious boy with the insatiable fire is still in there somewhere. You just haven’t seen him in a while.)

“...oh, so now you mock me,” you joke in return.

He steps through the threshold of his bed chambers to meet you, toe to toe.

“I wouldn’t.”

In a rare moment of levity, you roll your eyes. It actually elicits a snort from the prince as he sweeps his cape behind his back, before his arm rises in a hook-like gesture.

“Let’s go,” Levi adds, lifting his elbow once towards you. “Before the blood-sucking suitors sniff me out from all the way over here.”

Right. 

His potential spouses.

Because he’d been putting off the whole marriage nonsense altogether, citing peace talks among Eldia and Marley as his priority above all else.

“You know if they did, I’d never let them get within an inch of you,” you remind him as you loop through his arm, mindful of your proximity. 

“I know,” he promises under his breath. “Above all else, I know.”

Within seconds your footsteps align, a harmonious click to scuffle with your heels and his boots, filling the firelit corridor with the announcement of the prince’s arrival. In unison, you lift your masquerade masks to situate them behind your ears and over the bridges of your noses.

By the time you reach the ballroom, the floor is already adorned with dancing couples from the kingdom and across the pond. Marleyean royalty dazzle and twirl to the quarter playing in the corner. The Eldians are a bit more subdued, discussing gossip and politics as the wine flows and the food is served.

Dozens upon dozens turn at the knowledge of the prince’s arrival and bow deeply, causing your stomach to churn.

You’re his first knight. You’re not meant to be on his arm.

You know it.

Those who know you also know it.

But as several eager suitors begin to curl around the ballroom floor, you feel Levi push not towards the throne-like chair awaiting his arrival — the very chair he’s sulked upon for most of these parties, wishing he were anywhere but —

Forward.

Down the stairs, towards the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” you whisper to the prince, brows knit under the planes of the mask.

“Saving us both.”

“With what?”

“Just trust me,” he whispers before detaching from you.

The significance of the moment hits you only a second too slowly, until suddenly you feel a warm hand run along your waist to secure behind your back. 

His other hand seeks out yours, curling his fingertips around your palm. Yours hangs limply at your side, not quite understanding what he’s doing until there are some gasps of surprise and confusion.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Levi Ackerman, has chosen his first dance suitor.”

No.

Oh — you were not supposed to be here.

When you whip your attention around to the eyes on you, you feel Levi’s hand leave your waist to grab your free hand. They both lift until your palm rests on the emerald sash decorating his shoulder. 

“Eyes on me.”

Obeying without another thought, your eyes meet.

“Don’t think.”

Before you can think, the music begins.

He pushes forward and you nearly stumble backward, but his fingers flex along the small of your back. The prince pushes you closer, his eyes boring into yours.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the steps from the aggravating dance lessons.”

“From when we were ten?” you ask bluntly, breaking your stoic character.

The answer only brings that smirk back. “They taught us this godforsaken box of a dance. So damn mind-numbing. Yet I was left to suffer through more classes alone while you were off preparing for knighthood.”

“Is that how you recall it?”

“Do you call your prince a liar?”

He’s still being playful. 

Around this time of night, he’s moody and disconnected. He’d much rather pull teeth than waltz around the dancefloor with the chosen (see: chosen for him) suitor that begs for his hand, but it’s what he’s required to do.

Except, on this night, he ran straight to the ballroom floor.

No formalities. No attempts of escaping.

He twirls you, and suddenly you’re that much closer to his body when you turn back around.

“You’re meant to choose a suitor for this dance, my lord,” you murmur, mindful of your steps the longer you’re both forced to take it.

“I didn’t want to.”

“That’s seen as disrespectful.”

“I disrespect, then.”

Prince Levi focuses on memorizing your features, as if compelled to look at you and only you. You watch him, counting the steps in your head for this dance.

“And don’t do that.”

“Do what, my lord?”

“That,” he states. “You are on my arm tonight. So it is not lord, not prince.”

Twirling one final time as the music swells to a close, your hand lands on the crook of his neck where your fingertip manages to catch skin. The prince’s eyes flutter, as if captivated by the way it feels on his bare flesh.

“Then what?” you whisper as you stand there, basking in the final step.

“Levi,” he answers. “As it was before.”

Levi.

You haven’t called him that in such a long time.

Your lips part to speak, but the ballroom erupts into applause for their prince. 

Quickly your mouth shuts, unwilling to compete with the crowd. 

Levi’s brows are knit, staring down at your lips as if expecting something — only to deflate when he realizes you aren’t going to say anything.

An opportunity, lost.

“Would you accompany me to the gardens?” he asks instead, filling the white noise with his velvet-smooth voice. Your conjoined hand gets a squeeze to bring you back to solid ground.

“If that is what you command,” you weakly state, trying to continue the facade, the masks, you’ve both shared through the last few years.

Levi’s nostrils flare before he steps out of the dance circle. Other couples eager to meet for the next song flood past you, obscuring the two of you through a battling undercurrent.

It’s dangerous, is your first line of thought. 

He should be behind me.

By the time you wish to reverse the order, to protect him, you're met with the crisp air of the night sky. Flames flicker against stone walls, illuminating the rose garden and shrubberies that curl around it. The dark sky twinkles with budding stars.

Levi stands with his back to you, your arms tethered at the wrist. For a moment he stands there, head bowed.

“Why are you avoiding your suitors?”

It’s a question you wish you could take back as soon as you say it. When he turns, the familiar scowl people know the prince for comes into view. He’s often seen as a snob, nose upturned at everyone but himself — and you.

“Of all people, you are not allowed to judge,” he growls, catching you off guard. “You swore off suitors when you swore to protect the crown. You needn’t answer to anyone’s call.”

“Because I answer to yours,” you defends yourself, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yes, so why can I not answer in return?”

When your brow knits, he takes a few steps forward. He enters your orbit in haste, his hand running through his wild raven hair.

“I send parchment for your arm, I bring you to court to dance, yet you’re somehow so damn blind to it.”

“To what?” you ask under your breath, your body growing numb.

If he implies—

No, that cannot be the truth.

Yet the more he speaks to you, he looks like that boy you left behind all those years ago. Not the prince, but Levi — the boy who has never once offered affection to another woman yet still begs of you to see him.

Levi moves another step forward, his boot slipping under the hem of your dress, and stops himself when he gets too close to your lips. You feel his hot breath pulse across your face, causing heat to rise through your body.

His eyes flicker across your face, as if searching for a sign to stop. When you stare wide-eyed in return, lost in your own feelings — gods all of the feelings you’ve swallowed down, down, down when it came to all the people wishing for his hand — for the first time since you were young.

“Command me.”

When he whispers, lightning jolts through your veins. Commanding someone of royal blood is a death sentence. Yet you know what he’s asking — why he’s asking.

“But you are my prince.”

“I am only a man,” he corrects in a murmur, shaking his head, “and you are more holy than any damned crown so I cannot take — but I beg of you, to ask.”

Everything turns to ash in your mind. Any panic, any worry, any doubt that his feelings could be reciprocated — they culminate to this moment. 

This, where you can look up at Levi Ackerman, the prince who stole your heart, and command.

“Kiss me, Levi.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Levi gathers you in his arms, his push forward so intense that you both stumble back into the dark corner of the castle’s exterior. His palm cradles the back of your head as he kisses you, drowning in the taste of you, and he practically moans at the mere feeling of it.

You try to keep up, kissing him back with equal impatience. Pulling and pushing you meet him kiss for kiss, your hand nestled upon the cool surface of his cheek. He swears under his breath, a curse only for you, before he ducks his chin and deepens the kiss.

The moan that slips across your tongue causes the hand at your waist to grip it tighter.

Although it’s a foreign feeling, you find your mouth opening when his lips part, your tongues meeting in the middle. It feels wrong — but the feeling quickly fades when his thigh wedges between yours and presses.

Levi pulls away, face flushed and eyes hazy. You both pant, your chests touching as you seek a stolen breath in this finite space between you.

Yet you can’t stop looking at him.

“I want nothing more than to have you,” Levi confesses. “All facets of you. I won’t jeopardize your knightship, but I wish to court none other.”

His forehead drops to yours.

You melt at the feeling, the intimacy, despite how you should pull away and do your duty as his sworn protector. You swore off marriage, but to be courted by one of the royal family…

It would be nullified.

If you wanted him, is what Levi has been trying to say this entire night.

“Then choose me,” you decide finally, softly, against his lips.

Although your eyes are closed, you feel it: a rare smile from the prince himself.

“I already have,” he promises. “I just had to wait for you to choose me, too.”

.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

I was wondering if you could do a little drabble where the reader breaks her leg in an accident and Arthur goes to help her by picking her up and taking her home. Please I want Arthur to hold the reader like a princess! 🥺💞

Here you go sweet anon! 🍑

Yes this was supposed to be a drabble but I got a little carried away as always and this ended up being a bit longer than expected. I hope you won't mind!! 🙏

˖✧To pick up a Peach

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Warnings/Tags: Description of a broken leg and physical pain, otherwise this is pure fluff. Arthur being the sweetest gentleman he is in high honor. ✦ Words: 2,4k ✦ a/n: I don't know why but I got carried away with this one and I ended up really loving it. I changed it just a little bit and made Arthur carry you to the doc, cause you know, he wouldn't let you go home without minimum care. He's like that. I made the reader some sort of farmer's daughter AU? Anyway, hope you'll still like it, Anon! Credits. Arthur's pic is mine. Other pics are from Pinterest. Little doodles made by me.

You were screwed.

That’s the thought that was stuck in your mind. Your horse, which the stableman had sworn to you was a gentle and peaceful creature, turned out to be a wild furious animal who was extremely nervous and appeared to have only one idea in mind: go back to where it belonged, the plains of the Heartlands.

You were simply on a ride to Valentine. You would often go there with your sisters on Mondays and Sundays to sell what your family had harvested in your native town, Emerald Ranch, setting up your little stand next to the butcher’s. Usually, these trips were pleasant and you had grown to like them, relieved to see something else than the gloomy and weird atmosphere that had settled in your village.

But your treacherous companion had decided, after an encounter with a snake somewhere near the Twin Stack Pass, that enough was enough. After rearing up as if his life depended on it, he took off at full speed, ejecting you with a crash to the ground, making the wicker basket containing all your precious products fly up in the air like a colorful firework of fruits and vegetables.

An ominous, muffled creak as your body lands.

Stunned, breathless, it took you a few seconds to regain your composure, long gone and galloping off with your horse.

Of course, that had to happen the only time you had decided to ride alone for once.

Your left leg, broken. The fruit of your labors and harvests, your perfect peaches, flawlessly ripe tomatoes and carrots, promising seeds, and beautiful flowers, scattered and smashed on the floor. Your dignity, gone. 

Lying back on the dirt, hair spread like a star around your head, surrounded by an indescribable substance made of crushed fruits and flower petals reduced to a mush, you looked like the religious figure of Bad Luck.

On top of that, being a lonely young woman, unarmed, and hurt in the open clearly wasn’t an ideal situation. Any man with bad intentions could easily do the worst thing to you in your state.

You tried to get back in a sitting position. Every movement was igniting the pain in your broken bone, deep inside your calf, spreading it through your entire body like a burning trail of powder. You let out a short pained grunt, followed by a curse. Slowly tugging your skirt up your knee, you took a worried look at your leg. 

It looked bad.

Painted with deep colored bruises kind of bad. 

The sight of it along with the incessant stabbing pain coming from it made your heart beat faster, and you did your best not to pass out from the nausea that was flying over your head. The panic of not feeling your toes anymore didn't helped at calming your heart rate.

There was no way you could walk back to any town in that state, or contact the rest of your family already waiting for you.

Yes, you were screwed. 

Tilting your head backward, you looked at the sky, in an attempt to prevent your threatening tears from falling, or to throw a desperate call to the Heavens, you didn’t really know it yourself. 

A muffled sound suddenly made its way to your ears. It looked like your involuntary prayer had been answered sooner than you would have expected.

It was the sound of hooves.

You snapped your head in the noise’s direction and noticed an approaching form on the road, raising a cloud of dust in its wake, coming towards you. Your only hope. You were praying, for real this time, that this upcoming stranger was a gentleman and not a bad man.

Praying, praying, praying.

Praying again as the man was at voice’s reach, and as you screamed and begged for help.

“M-Mister!” Your voice sounded even more pitiful than what you had planned, and a bit hoarse from the pain. Your ego protested, but screw it, he probably was your last chance. “Mister, please! I broke my leg! I can’t… I can’t…”

Apparently, shouting didn't seem to help the nausea. The more you were getting air out of your lungs by screaming the more your head was feeling dizzy.

Luckily for you, the lonely rider had heard your desperate breathless words and was heading towards you, stopping his horse in a skillful maneuver before dismounting, his two boots hitting the ground.

“What happen Ma’am, d’ya need some help?” He asked you, voice powerful and worried frown on his face.

“My horse got spooked by a damn snake and he ran away… Making me fall and I… I think my leg broke…” Your tone was pained and way weaker than his as you did your best to explain the situation, a single tear now streaming down your cheek.

The pain, the panic, the frustration from having a month’s worth of work destroyed in just mere seconds… You couldn’t hold it anymore.

Slowly approaching you, the man lowered himself in a crouching position to take a better look at you, and talk to you at the same eye level. His deep blue eyes studied your broken leg, surely not missing the disturbing, alarming color the bruises were taking, your skin an odd mix of purple and green now. It didn’t seem to disgust him though, his face stoic as he scanned your wound.

“Alright Miss jus’... Don’t move too much.” He advised you in a softer tone. You could see he was truly concerned about your state. “What’s with all this mess? You trynna make some soup or what?” He asked in a deep sarcastic tone, as if amused by his own words.

You drily chuckle, which revived the pain you were still feeling in your bone, making you cut your laugh and groan a bit, your own features contracting in a pained expression.

“It is… It was my crop… I was going to sell it in Valentine…” You explained once again, feeling shame and exasperation hitting you. You were feeling so angry from this waste, so angry at yourself to be the only one responsible for it, you couldn’t prevent more tears from falling, trying hard not to let yourself go into sobs.

“Ah, shit… I’m sorry for ya.” He exhaled, contemplating the scattered and mashed jelly-like matter composed of what was once your yield, pieces of peaches and broken carrots lying there, like on a battlefield. His gaze came back to yours, full of compassion and probably pity for your state, before continuing. “Don’t worry Miss. I’mma take you up to the Doc, in Valentine. ‘Was goin’ there anyway.”

You nodded in order to thank him, feeling so relieved life had put him on your way. 

“Okay, I’m gonna help ya get on ma horse. It’s gonna hurt a little but we have to.” He warned you, getting completely down on his knees by your side.

You didn’t dare to move from one inch. He slowly wrapped an arm under your shoulders, his hand grabbing your side. Even more carefully, his other one slipped under your legs, and he gently lifted you up bridal-style, as if you weighed nothing, a fallen leaf in a gentle breeze.

 As if he was carrying injured people all day every day.

Your broken member didn’t like it as much as you did though, and you hissed in pain from feeling your own weight pull on the wound as your leg was hanging in the air. He noticed, and spoke again while getting up, just as easily as if he wasn’t carrying an entire person in his arms right now.

“Gonna be okay Miss, hold on a lil’ longer.”

As if taking his words in a literal way, you encircled his waist with your arms and rested your head on his chest. His work shirt was used and dirty, rough against the skin of your cheek, but right now it just felt heavenly to you compared to the dusty rock of the floor. You sighed, feeling calmer and way better now.

If you had brought up your gaze, you could have seen how a slight blush was spreading on the tan skin of his cheeks the moment he felt you getting comfortable in his arms.

You heard him call for his horse with a short whistle and a sharp noise from his teeth. His mount obeyed right away, getting closer to both of you in a happy trot. You wish your horse could have been as gentle as this one. He looked like a really strong and powerful, but very sweet on the inside animal. A bit like its owner, now that you were thinking about it.

As carefully as if you were made of porcelain, the man in question let go of your legs, and you took support on your valid one. He then picked you up again, by your waist, and lifted you on the saddle, helping you to get settled and as comfortable as possible. His large hands were very soft on you, cautious, caring. You could feel how his touch was light and measured, calculated to make you feel the least pain possible.

“You take the saddle, else your leg would get too bumped during the ride.” He explained before hopping behind you, grabbing the reins by bringing his arms from both sides of you.

He was basically enveloping you, his large frame keeping you warm and steady. Against your shoulders, you could feel his biceps, and thanked the Lord once again this man had good intentions with you because there was no way you could have resisted this mountain of muscles.

The silence fell as your gentle savior spurred his horse into a slow pace, keeping him calm and cold-blooded. You mentally thank him for it, every movement from your leg, even the tiniest one, would ignite the flames of your pain again.

The ride to Valentine was a quiet, peaceful one, just like it was supposed to be from the start. Your eyes kept closing and opening as if you were on the verge of falling asleep, but still needed to be alert until you'd be safe and sound in town. 

You only had exchanged a few words with the man, your names, and where you lived. 

Arthur Morgan didn't look like the kind of man to have the longest conversations but his presence was reassuring nevertheless. His heavy breathing, his body around yours, the calmness of the plains… It was all making your pain less vivid and way more bearable.

Once in Valentine, Arthur rode straight to the Doctor, and got off first, tying his horse's reins around the fence.

“Here we are, Miss. Let's get ya checked up for good, shall we?” He said while standing right next to the saddle, opening his arms to pick you up again, a gentle smile on his face, as if telling you all your worries were behind you now.

If you thought this man was going to let you walk alone to the doc’s office and head off to his own business, you were damn wrong.

Even through your terrible state, a grin curled up your lips and mirrored his own expression. You let your tired and injured body sink into his solid one, and he carried you in his arms once again.

His scent ran through your nose as you breathed, traveling all the way down your veins to your lungs and everywhere in your body, enfolding you and your soul. It was a strong smell, not a delicate one like those gentlemen would carry with their cologne, but you liked it regardless. A mix of leather, sweat, tobacco, and this early dew scent, the one you can smell just before dawn, earthy and herbal, as if he had been sleeping under the stars for months. 

The smell of the outdoors. 

Arthur opened the door with one foot, and entered the Dr Calloway’s office with you in his arms, careful not to let your leg get knocked while walking through the door. The doctor took care of you right away, ordering Arthur to put you on the chair in the little room where patients were treated.

His muscled arms dropped you, his hands gentle and attentive, as slowly as if you were a newborn filly he could hurt or scare away by using too much force. There was such kindness, such gentleness and care in his gesture that it left you feeling all bubbly on the inside.

You kept on looking at him during all the time it took for Dr Calloway to treat you, waiting for him to just go, but he didn’t. He stayed, casually leaning his back against the wall to leave some space for the doctor, his eyes voyaging from your injury to your face, then away from you, as if he was feeling guilty about staring at you like this. It made you giggle.

You paid the doctor, thanked him goodbye, and before you could process it, here you were, freshly gifted with two crutches and a wooden splint around your injury in front of his door. Perfect. For a farmer family, a hurt worker was a curse.

“You gonna be okay now, Miss? D’ya need another ride home?”

Arthur’s deep voice dragged you out of your thoughts. This man was so special. He looked used, strong, and intimidating, but had been nothing but kind and delicate with you. Right now, his deep azure gaze was staring right at yours, making you feel even weaker in the knees than you already were.

“Oh, don’t worry, my family is already here. We have a wagon and all. Besides, you have done plenty for me, Mister Morgan.”

“Ah, don’t ya worry. 'Did what any man would have done seein’ a pretty lil’ lady like ya hurt on the ground.” He answered with a subtle grin.

Before you could realize it, his hand was reaching out for a strand of your hair, and his fingers brushed against it.

You froze, feeling a dark red settling on your cheeks, your eyes looking back at his in surprise and disbelief, searching for an explanation, even if your heart didn't want it. It wanted more of it, no questions asked.

“You hum… You still got some… pieces of peaches or somethin’ in your hair, Miss…” He explained himself, his voice a little less self-assured than before.

You blushed even more. You indeed must looked like a total mess after your accident, and mentally noted to go fix yourself as soon as possible.

“Oh, God I…” You started, feeling embarrassed and flustered, words mixing and blurring in your mind instead of lining up properly. You just sighed, closing your eyes, giggling a little. You then spoke again, keeping your tone as calm as you could. “Thanks again, Mister Morgan.”

“Please, jus’ call me Arthur.”

“Alright, Arthur. Thank you, for everything. I don’t know how I could thank you enough.”

“You know, maybe I could come someday, at your farm I mean, and buy some of your stuff. You could give me a rebate on those, unless everythin’ you sell actually looks like jam…” He added with a mischievous, low chuckle, gaze sparkling.

“Hey! My crops are perfect, Mister. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” You said back in an equally amused tone, a toothy smile completing the picture of your precious blushing face.

“I'm sure I won’t be, lil’ peach.” 

His voice had turned just as soft as his touch had been when carrying you; for Arthur, you really were starting to become his sugary, soft, and delicious favorite fruit.

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warnings/tags: no smut this time, swearing, angst, not really any warnings but prepare yourself y'all A/N: not gonna lie, as I started this I was thinking it was gonna be so good but then i edited it and now I hate it but don't have the energy to fix it ദ്ദി(ó﹏ò｡) I promise the last part is gonna be better than this

index part thirteen | part fifteen

part fourteen word count : 3,531

with how great things were going, you’d begun to regret signing the lease on your new apartment. Sukuna had been… tolerable, and your relationship with Choso was progressing to a comfortability you’d greatly miss. while watching Yuji and Megumi make out on movie nights wasn’t your favorite thing ever, you knew you wouldn’t ever escape from that even if you did move out.

considering you’d signed your lease just yesterday, you figured tonight would be the night to break the news to Choso. of course, you’d already let it slip to Yuji pretty soon after you’d found the right apartment but he’d sworn himself to secrecy – after beginning on his knees for you to stay. you’d thought of the perfect plan: ply Choso with a homecooked meal, wine, and a new lingerie set you’d splurged on to soften the blow. 

you had been worried all day about how he’d take the news – would he be supportive or be distraught? hopefully the former. if Choso had begged as Yuji had, you knew you’d end up staying for him, even if you had to gain some sort of independence. 

so here you were, wrapping up the hefty dinner you’d cooked for your boyfriend with time to spare so you could change and get ready for his arrival. you’d instructed Yuji to take him on some “errands” just so you could get everything set up and surprise him. the dining table, now set with dinnerware and already filled glasses of wine, looked cozy as you lit the candles adorning the top of it. hell, you’d even found a jazz lofi playlist to have in the background. 

as you primped your hair and makeup a little bit, you eyed the lacy black teddy laying on your bedspread. while black wasn’t necessarily Choso’s favorite color, he sure did wear a lot of it so you hoped he liked your choice. you gently slipped it on and adjusted your breasts to make them stand out a little more – of course, as a distraction for Choso. 

throwing on a loose and flowy dress over it to cover up for now, you opened your bedroom door to go wait for Choso and stopped in your tracks.

“put that wine down, it’s not for you!” you shouted as you stomped over to the dining table – Sukuna froze with the glass halfway to his lips as he heard your voice. he was still stunned as you snatched it from his hand before setting it gently back in its place. “you’re not supposed to be here, I thought you had plans?”

“I did, canceled ‘em because I didn’t want to go anymore.” Sukuna shrugged, but his face still showed a hint of confusion. “what’s all this for?”

you fiddled with your fingers as he stared at you – this wouldn’t do. no one was supposed to be home tonight, leaving the house to you and Choso to have alone time. Yuji hadn’t argued when you suggested he stayed at Megumi’s, and you’d thought Sukuna would already be half drunk with his friends by now. 

“you need to find somewhere else to be.” you stated as you crossed your arms, hoping he didn’t ask any more questions. 

“this a date or somethin’?” Sukuna asked as he raised a brow, a smirk playing on his lips. “any special occasion?”

“not a special occasion, just wanted to do something nice for Choso.” you briefly answered before grabbing his shoulders and pushing him backward towards the door. Sukuna didn’t fight with you as he started stepping back, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. “as I said, you need to go. I can’t have you here when he comes back.”

“why? because it’ll be too awkward?” he shot back, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“there’s no reason for it to be awkward.” you replied, crossing your arms as if to emphasize your point.

“but you’d be surrounded by two people in love with you.” Sukuna countered, his words hanging heavy in the air. 

your footsteps stilled, the impact of his statement sinking in. Sukuna’s gaze sharpened at your hesitation, and he leaned in slightly, a softer expression replacing his earlier playfulness. 

“don’t… don’t say things like that.” you stammered, heat rising to your cheeks. what was he talking about? he didn’t love you; you had spent so long convincing yourself of that just to cope. “you can’t possibly mean that.”

Sukuna tilted his head, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. “why not? what if I do?”

your heart raced, and you struggled to find your voice. “because it’s… it’s not possible. you can’t just throw around words like that.”

he stepped closer, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something more serious. “listen… I know what I did. and I’m truly sorry. you deserve a far longer apology than this, but I need you to know that I am sorry. I’ve put in the work, I’ve been going to therapy and figuring shit out – and one of the many things I learned is that I do love you.”

his words hung in the air, and a storm of emotions swirled within you. this was the worst possible time for this. Sukuna should have apologized long ago, not on this particular night when you’re waiting for Choso to come home.

oh shit, Choso. you quickly glance away at the clock – he’s going to walk through the door any second now. 

“Choso will be here soon.” your voice cracked as you tried to reign in your emotions. if Sukuna truly wanted to apologize, he could have picked a better time to do it. “please, if you really feel bad about the past, then respect my wishes and just go.”

“look, I know it’s complicated but-“

“no, it’s not complicated; it’s not fair.” you snapped, harsher than you had intended. Sukuna stepped back, as if you’d physically pushed him, and stared at you in shock. “you should have apologized ages ago, you should have figured your shit out before you hurt me. I mean, physically and mentally hurt me, Sukuna.”

“I know, I know, and I want to give you a better apology but-“ Sukuna started again, only to pause when you raised your hand to stop him. 

the sound of keys in the door made your heart sink to your stomach. Sukuna picked up on it too after you’d stopped him from rambling, and he steeled himself for who was going to walk through the door.

when the door swung open, Choso stepped inside with a bright smile that faltered as he noticed you two. “um, what’s going on?” his smile dropped completely as he scanned the room and noted the romantic setting.

“it’s not what it looks like.” Sukuna told him, crossing his arms over his chest as you sent a glare his way. like that didn’t sound incriminating.

“I was trying to surprise you, but Sukuna was just leaving.” you explained as you gave Sukuna a light shove toward the door. you silently wished he’d drop everything and just leave your conversation behind.

to your surprise, it was Choso who wasn’t ready to let it go. he immediately came to your side with a gentle hand and cupped your cheek. “are you okay?” he asked softly, concern etched across his features.

Sukuna tutted, he rolled his eyes. “why wouldn’t she be?” 

“because we both know you and how you act.” Choso snapped, his protective instinct kicking in.

“I was just apologizing to her for-“

you quickly raised your hands up to stop Sukuna from continuing, heart racing at the thought of him exposing everything right here. “just apologizing for interrupting, right?”

Sukuna gave you a quizzical look, confusion flickering in his eyes before he shook his head. “you can drop the act if you’re doing it for my sake. it’s not like he doesn’t already know what happened.”

what?

you felt your heart sink at Sukuna’s words, panic surging through you. “what do you mean he already knows?” you demanded, shooting a nervous glance at Choso. his expression shifted to one of guilt, eyes wide and mouth agape as he met your gaze. “what does he mean, Choso?”

“wait, he never told you?” Sukuna asked, a low chuckle escaping him. when you shot him an icy glare, he gulped and offered a sympathetic smile. “Choso knows about what happened. he heard you yelling at me in the kitchen one night, and even gave me the death glare when I caught him standing at the top of the steps afterward.”

Choso… he knew? all this time? that argument felt like it had happened ages ago, a memory already blurred in your mind. you turned back to Choso, unable to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. “you… did you really know? for that long and you never thought to say anything?”

“yes.” Choso’s answer was short and direct, but his lips parted as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

“why didn’t you say anything?” you pressed, your voice trembling. 

Choso’s gaze dropped to the floor, a flicker of regret passing over his features. “I didn’t… I didn’t want it to change things between us. you were opening up to me, and I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“opening up intimately?” Sukuna questioned, and you whipped around to face him.

“stay out of this.” you snapped, but Choso was already taking steps forward toward him. 

“you shut your mouth.” Choso growled as he pointed a finger at Sukuna. Sukuna only rolled his eyes in response, but when he glanced at you and took in your distraught state, his expression hardened.

“listen, what happened in the past was a mistake, on my part.” Sukuna started, his voice tense as Choso glared at him and you looked away. “and I’m truly sorry. I’ll spend every day apologizing if I need to – but if you want to be angry about it, take it out on me. don’t do this in front of her.”

Choso chuckled darkly, his finger pressed against Sukuna’s chest now. “like you’re one to act high and mighty. I should have kicked your ass the moment I found out it was you who hurt her like that.”

you were frozen, mentally and physically, as your gaze focused on the floor. this was exactly what you’d wanted to avoid from the beginning. did Yuji know? or the others? had Sukuna and Choso talked about it? there were too many questions swirling in your mind for you to even begin comprehending. 

“and you can still kick my ass if you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love her.”

“no you don’t, you can go to all the therapy you want but it doesn’t change who you are.”

“I’m working on it, give me a fucking break.”

you’d had enough. the night was beyond ruined, your makeup now smeared down your face as the two of them argued as if you weren’t there. this wasn’t healthy, and guilt gnawed at you. you shouldn’t have gotten involved with Sukuna, and you shouldn’t have fallen for Choso… all of this was your fault. 

“I’m moving out.” your soft confession cut through the tension, making both Choso and Sukuna turn to you with wide eyes.

“what?” Sukuna asked, his voice low, but before he could think to move towards you Choso was already at your side

Choso’s expression softened, a stark contrast to the anger he’d had on display. “you don’t have to do that, angel. we can figure it out.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching. you wanted desperately for things to be okay or to start all over – but you couldn’t. you’d ruined things. sure, Sukuna had hurt you and Choso had hidden his knowledge of what happened, but it was you who caused all of it. 

“I signed the lease yesterday. it’s done.” you confessed as Choso’s eyebrows furrowed, sadness washing over his face. “I thought… I thought it was for the best, but now I know it is. I can’t be the reason this house falls apart. if not for your sake, then Yuji’s. he needs his brothers.”

“I’ll go.” Sukuna’s voice broke the tense silence, drawing your gaze away from Choso and towards him. “this is my fault; I should be the one to move out.”

“yeah, maybe you should since-“

“enough.” you bit out to interrupt Choso, who now looked hurt. “enough fighting, enough tiptoeing around it, enough of this.” you gestured between the two of them. “I should have never gotten involved. Yuji is my best friend; I won’t tear his family apart.”

Sukuna fell silent while Choso reached for your hands, enclosing them in his. “if you hadn’t gotten involved, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.” tears shimmered in his eyes as he looked deeply into yours, and your heart felt like it was fracturing like glass.

“I do love you. but… I can’t do this.” 

and at that moment, the last piece of your heart shattered. 

the silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Choso’s grip on your hands tightened, his expression a mix of anguish and disbelief. “please don’t say that.” he whispered, his voice cracking. “we can work through this together. we love each other.”

you shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “love isn’t enough right now. there’s too much pain, too many complications. I can’t be the cause of any more hurt, not to you or to Yuji.”

Sukuna shifted, his expression unreadable. “you think leaving will solve everything? running away won’t make the problems disappear.”

“it’s not about running away.” you replied, your voice trembling. you looked away from Choso to Sukuna, stunned to see his eyes glossy as he stared intensely at you. “I need to step back and let you both figure this out without me in the way.”

Choso’s face fell, and he looked like a lost puppy. “I can’t imagine my life without you.” he said softly. “you mean everything to me.”

your heart ached at his words. “I know, and it kills me to say this. but staying would only hurt everyone in the end.”

with a heavy heart, you stepped back towards the door, creating distance between the three of you. “I need to go. I’m going to go over to Megumi’s for now, and meet up with Yuji.”

as you turned to leave, Choso reached out, desperation in his voice. “wait! just give me a chance to fix this.”

you glanced up at Sukuna, who only gave you a small supportive nod, before looking back to Choso to see the pain etched on his face. “you deserve happiness, Choso. and I hope you find it… with or without me.”

with that, you walked out, your heart in pieces. you breathed in the cold air to steel yourself before starting to the journey to Megumi’s. you knew it was going to be a long night, debriefing your best friend and crying yourself to sleep, but it had to be the for the best. 

right?

you had done something stupid; you told yourself that over and over as you walked down the street. sure, Choso and Sukuna didn’t have a brotherly bond, different parents and whatnot, but because of Yuji, they were brothers. and then you came in. 

first, you thought Sukuna actually liked you, and then that got fucked up. then, you go and fall for Choso, the other brother. and of course, somehow that got fucked up as well. maybe that one wasn’t anyone’s fault, but you couldn’t stick around to see how you’d mess it up further. he deserved better than that. hell, you’d even say Sukuna deserves someone right for him.

and what was it with Sukuna dropping a love bomb? surely, he just didn’t know what love truly was; he didn’t love you. how could he? when he’d hurt you as much as he did, whether he realized it or not. 

but Choso loved you. and you really did love him. had you ever gotten to actually say it? the words “I love you”? did he know how much it was truly breaking your heart to walk away?

you hadn’t realized you were crying silently until you saw Megumi’s face when his front door swung open. soft, sympathetic eyes, the same ones you’d already seen from two others today. it made you sick; you didn’t deserve it.

“I – hic – where’s Yuji?” you hiccupped as you asked, and immediately Megumi called out behind him before letting you step into the apartment.

Yuji came almost running around the corner, phone pressed to his ear, and he looked almost relieved to see you. almost. “yeah, she just got here safely. of course I’m gonna take care of her. okay, I’m hanging up now.” Yuji ended whatever call he had been on before rushing over and enveloping you in a hug. “what trouble have you gotten yourself into now?”

“he loved me.” you whispered through sniffles, clutching the fabric of Yuji’s sweatshirt between your fists. Yuji shushed you as he motioned towards Megumi to come and join the hug as well. while Megumi wasn’t big on physical contact – with anyone but Yuji – he didn’t hesitate and you soon were wrapped up by both of them.

“should I call Nobara?” Megumi questioned in a hushed voice. you shook your head in answer, even though you knew he was talking to Yuji.

“don’t wanna bother her.” you told him, but Yuji sighed. you knew what he was going to say next, so you continued ahead of him. “fine, call her. I know you’re going to do it anyway.”

after Megumi disappeared to make the call, Yuji pulled away to hold onto your shoulders and look at you. “what happened? talk to me.” he urged as you wiped away the tears and snot smeared on your face.

“I really fucked up, Yuji.” you cried. “he loved me, and I messed up your family, and I should have never thought I could be happy because look what I did.”

Yuji fiercely shook his head at you, lips set in a firm frown. “you didn’t mess up my family. you do deserve happiness, haven’t I always told you that. besides, Sukuna was wrong to tell you he loved you but he-“

“wait, Sukuna?” you cut him off, brows furrowed in confusion. “how did you know?”

“Sukuna was the one who called me, and told me to make sure you were safe. I thought you would’ve known that?” Yuji raised an eyebrow, as confused as you were now. you were stunned – what exactly did Yuji know? “he told me what he said, and what happened between you and Choso because of it.”

you couldn’t find the words you wanted to say – that you weren’t upset about Sukuna. truthfully, it was the least of your concerns. you had been referring to Choso the entire time. but Sukuna had called Yuji? 

“I think you should sit down before we continue this conversation.” you muttered as you averted your gaze, silently prepping yourself to tell your best friend everything that had happened from the moment you first stepped into his house. 

needless to say, it was a long night as you gave Yuji and Megumi a recap of everything – including what happened with Sukuna. even all the brotherly love in the world couldn't stop the sound of Yuji yelling at Sukuna on the phone in the other room. even Megumi had been clenching and unclenching his fists on the couch next to you as you both listened in on the conversation. 

when Yuji had felt somewhat satisfied, he’d returned to your side, and promptly pulled you into an embrace before murmuring apologies like water rushing from a dam. in the end, you were consoling him, both of you becoming puddles of tears together while Megumi bore witness. 

and at the end of it all, you’d heard the words “it’s not your fault” enough to last you a lifetime. but, no matter how many times Yuji said the words, they never stuck with you. because losing Choso was your fault.

it was all that mattered to you now. the mental image of Choso’s heartbroken expression flashing through your mind all night, even as you tried to fall asleep with tears still in your eyes.

you had to let it go, eventually. if you had just fallen for him first, none of this would have happened – but it did. it had all happened, and the past was still there, sitting in that house and soaked into the walls. and it would follow you, even if you had gone back when your feet wanted to carry you there. 

you’d move forward, try to move on – it was all you could do to try and give Choso better. and maybe, only in your dreams, you’d find each other again eventually. 

that dream was the only reason you fell asleep that night, looking forward to meeting him again as you closed your eyes. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark @llovergirlll @iseeyouuu @makingtimemine @spicykimchii @shxhari @ratcoone @mollyrocks420 @willybillyletsgetsilly @distinguishedpenguinbread @ren-ni @sugar504 @runfrme @sukuna-for-life I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! IF the tagging didn't work, try turning on notifications for when I post just in case! ♡ if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 4.7k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

A/N: You can find the previous chapters on my masterlist!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

!!! This chapter contains dialogue in High Valyrian, which will be designated by bold and italics...enjoy :)

A week had slipped away since Jaenara and her family had settled into King’s Landing. She found herself passing time by discussing plans for the upcoming coronation with her mother or entertaining little Aegon and Viserys. Occasionally, she rode out on dragonback with Baela and Rhaena, savoring the freedom of the skies above. When she was up amongst the clouds, the princess forgot all about what her life had become down below. Sitting atop Aetherion, it was as if nothing else mattered.

Yet above all, Jaenara found herself occupied with a careful dance of avoidance whenever Aemond Targaryen crossed her path. She had escaped several close calls, ducking into unoccupied rooms whenever she saw the prince at the other side of a hallway. Jaenara had often wondered to herself if she could continue to keep up this game of cat and mouse well into their marriage, but the prospect of having to constantly hide from the man who was to be her husband did sadden her. Ever so slightly. 

Currently, the princess found herself in the castle gardens walking shoulder to shoulder with Helaena. Jaenara had not had as much alone time with her aunt as she would have liked, and was eager to reconnect with the one member of the Targaryen-Hightowers she could actually stand to be around. Helaena seemed to be pleased with the company, though it was difficult for Jaenara to tell at times. Her aunt had always been a somewhat emotionally distant person, even when they were children.

“My mother tells me that the planning for Rhaenyra’s coronation is almost finished?” Helaena inquires.

Jaenara and Jacaerys had both been closely involved with the planning of their mother’s name day ceremony. The preparations had proven to be stressful, even now plaguing the princess’ mind. Temporary discomfort is a small price to pay for mother to sit the Iron Throne - Jaenara had told herself. Though, she could not say she felt the same way about the looming, permanent discomfort she would soon find herself in…

Rhaenyra had even tried to include Aegon in the ceremony planning as well. An offering for the position he had given up for his older sister. Though he had seemed less than interested, opting to disappear for hours at a time instead. Even now, Jaenara wondered where her uncle often took off to, leaving her sweet aunt and their children alone. She questioned if she would be condemned to such a fate as well - Aemond fluttering about doing gods know what while she was left to care for their babes alone. The princess decides it is best not to mull over such depressing possibilities that she may soon enough find herself in.

“Yes, her name day will be here before we know it - just a short week away. Though I find myself anxious about the festivities.” Jaenara finally responds. 

“I understand,” Helena breathes, “I am not one for crowds either.”

“Well then we must stick together until the whole ordeal is over.” Jaenara reassures her aunt. And herself.

“I would gladly,” Helaena giggles, “Though when your wedding day arrives, my brother will stand at your side, not I."

Jaenara sighed - another formality she had been dreading heavily. She’d venture to guess that the moment her mother’s name day passes, planning for the wedding will begin immediately. The princess knew that her scarcity of interactions with Aemond would not last for much longer. Not if either of their mothers could help it. 

Jaenara felt she had little to discuss with her betrothed. What else was there to say?

Helaena came to a halt, bending down to pick up a large, green beetle. Jaenara winced - she had never been one for bugs, save for the pretty butterflies she had often chased with her aunt in their youth. She watched as the beetle began to travel up Helaena’s arm. Jaenara found that Helaena looked serene, her blonde-white hair picked up by the breeze and a content smile on her lips. The princess decides to take advantage of the peaceful moment to ask her aunt a troubled question.

“What is it like? Being married, that is.” Jaenara’s face grows serious.

Helaena removes the beetle from her forearm with a gentle touch and places it on a leaf below.

“It doesn’t really feel like anything,” She says, though her aunt does not sound particularly bothered by the dreary thought, “Aegon does not pay me much mind. Save for the times we have…done our duty.”

Jaenara clears her throat awkwardly.

“So, I suppose it is not so bad. I am free to do as I please. As he is. Though I think Aemond will make a better lover.” Helaena finishes. Jaenara looks at her aunt as if she has three heads and scoffs. She looks back at the princess with a coy look on her face.

“What a terrifying thought.” Jaenara sounds defeated as the two women resume their walk. A calm silence passes over them once again, as does the gentle breeze.  

Helaena looks as though someone is speaking to her and finds herself gazing up at the sky for a moment - and then to her niece.

She smiles, as if the clouds have told her a secret.

— — —

On the far side of the Red Keep, The One Eyed Prince begins to lay the groundwork of his plan to put his soon-to-be wife on the Iron Throne. Aemond has decided he must get in the good graces of his family - especially Jacaerys - if he is to carry out familicide without raising any suspicion that he had a hand in it. Something easier said than done, Aemond knows. Any amount of decency he could afford the heir and his brother would be met with scrutiny. A few kind words will not undo years of victimization dealt on both sides. 

Aemond clenches his jaw as he searches for his nephews throughout the grounds of the Red Keep. Locating them had proven to be challenging, though not as much as finding their sister. Aemond knew that Jaenara had been purposefully avoiding him. One evening, he had even caught sight of her ducking into her mother’s chambers when he had turned a corner, entering the same hallway as her. Her elusion frustrated the prince. If he could not speak to the princess and build up a rapport with her, then she would assuredly be the first to point her finger at him when news of Jace’s murder came about.  

Just when Aemond is about to give up entirely, he spots Jacaerys and Lucerys in the training yard, wooden swords in hand. Aemond lurks back for a moment, watching them practice their drills. Their moves are quick and calculated, proving that his nephews had become even more skilled fighters during their time away from the Red Keep. Though their moves had a certain unrefined quality to them. Aemond finally moves from his spot, drawing nearer to the princes. Lucerys spots him first and mumbles a curse under his breath, as hid older brother turns to meet Aemond’s eyes. Aemond smirks at the boys, and he can tell it takes all of Jace’s strength not to throw down his play sword and saunter off. 

The prince stands tall over his nephews, to hide the uneasiness he feels about approaching them. He’s pulled his long, sleek hair into a bun. His own sword, a practice blade worn smooth from countless hours of swinging, hung loose at his side

The air is tense around the group and a short silence hangs over them. Clanking of wood and metal and grunts fills the yard as the princes all stare at each other.

Aemond finally clears his throat and breaks the quiet.

"You're both too cautious," he remarks in a voice that carries authority but also a hint of patience. "Don't overthink your strikes. Let them flow naturally. It's about instinct as much as it is about technique."

Jacaerys narrowed his eyes skeptically. "You must think of us as fools, uncle. Why would we listen to you? You do not practice the habit of fighting honorably - Luke and I’ve both seen that.”

And what would you know about fighting honorably? Aemond remarks to himself.

Where is the honor in gouging out a boy’s eye? 

He inhales a deep breath to calm his rising frustration.

Lucerys, ever the more reserved of the two, held his ground but watched Aemond with a cautious curiosity.

Aemond knows he should not make the jest, but before he can stop himself, the words fall from his smug mouth.

“Fools? No - I only see two Strong boys before me.” 

Both of the brother’s harden their gaze. This time, Jacaerys does take off, with Luke trailing behind.

Fuck.

“But!” Aemond is quick to add to his lecture, desperate to keep the boys where they are, “Honor in battle is not always as straightforward as the songs would have it. There are times when survival demands unconventional measures.”

“And how,” Jace has stopped and turned to face his uncle once more, “would you know anything of a real battle?”

“You forget I train with Ser Criston Cole.” “You forget we trained with Daemon Targaryen.”

Aemond chooses to bite back another remark about how - despite training with one of the realm’s most formidable soldiers, the brother’s still lacked the necessary knowledge and skills.

Instead, he walks back towards their place in the yard and motions for the Velaryons to follow him. Jace stares at him a moment, lets out an exaggerated huff and mutters, “Come on, Luke.”

At their return, Aemond demonstrates a quick feint, his movements precise. “You’re signaling your intent with your movements, Jacaerys. And Lucerys, you hesitate before every strike. Be bold, but calculated. Like this," he continued, demonstrating a fluid series of strikes and blocks. Luke, with a touch of reservation, takes up a fighting stance in front of his older brother.

Aemond nodded approvingly. "Let's try it again. And this time, don't hold back."

For the remainder of the afternoon, Aemond guided them through drills and techniques, offering pointers in between bouts. Slowly, the initial wariness between the boys and the Targaryen prince faded, replaced by a grudging respect for his skill and knowledge.

When the sun had begun to dip into the horizon, the three young heirs sheathed their swords. Aemond found a rare smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. He did not find any joy in the times he sparred with Aegon, which had been few and far between lately. His brother had no real interest in learning and bettering his skills. And Criston Cole was becoming predictable - through no fault of his own. Aemond simply had no one else to spar with that was anywhere near his level. He found unexpected fulfillment in teaching his nephews.

Jace finally deposits his wooden sword with the others in the training yard, Luke following suit. 

With a huff and an expression that makes the prince seem physically pained he tells his uncle, “Well. That was rather…I did not think I’d ever see the day where you would give us any kind of genuine advice. Nevertheless, I am…grateful for your counsel uncle.” 

“Yes. Thank you, Aemond.” Lucerys adds curtly.

Aemond gives them a nod as acknowledgment.

Naive fools.

With that, Jace and Luke begin their journey back into the Red Keep. Aemond watches the boys stride away side by side. He almost resigns himself to turning in for the day, when a thought suddenly enters his mind. 

“Do you know where I might find your sister?” He calls after them. 

Jace remains silent continuing his walk. Aemond rolls his eyes.

She has sworn them to secrecy.

Lucerys seems to take some sort of pity on his uncle after their shared afternoon - much to the dismay of Jace, “I think she spoke of spending time in the gardens…” the younger brother’s sentence trails off when he sees the look Jacaerys gives him. 

Aemond nods gratefully, though no one sees it, and sets off towards the gardens, his mind already racing. He knew spending time with Jaenara was another crucial part of his plan he needed to begin sowing the seeds for. As much as she may detest it.

The believed that if he could convincingly pretend to be infatuated with his niece, to the extent that she truly believed his feelings were genuine, it might help divert suspicion away from him regarding her brother’s eventual murder. She may even come to defend him, when the time comes. Though this would prove to be a challenge.

“You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love” Aemond’s own words from her first evening back at King’s Landing echoed in his mind.

Aemond lets out a frustrated groan and picks up his pace.

When he reaches the gardens, Aemond finds Jaenara and his sister seated on a weathered stone bench in deep discourse, while their ladies-in-waiting linger nearby, amusing themselves.

The distant laughter of the two maidens surprises Aemond and stirs a hint of a smile on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time his sister had laughed so freely. It was then, he realized, he had never heard Jaenara genuinely laugh. Everything she let out in his presence was nothing more that a scoff or dry laugh. This, he thought, was a nice change of pace. Happiness suited her.

I should leave them. Aemond’s resolve falters for a moment, and he pivots for a swift and silent retreat. Yet, his sister catches sight of him before he can vanish.

"Aemond!" Helaena's voice rings out, compelling him to sigh and reluctantly turn back to face them.

Helaena's eyes glint with mischief as she waves a hand, beckoning him over. Meanwhile, the fleeting smile on Jaenara's face vanishes, replaced by an indifferent gaze.

"Aemond," his sister greets again, her tone laced with curiosity. "Where have you been?"

"Just sparring with your brothers," Aemond replies, his gaze drifting towards Jaenara.

The surprise in Jaenara's eyes is evident and impossible to conceal.

"With Jace and Luke?" she questions, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You seem…unscathed. I trust the same can be said for my brothers?"

"It was just a training session - nothing if not civil. I only meant to give them a bit of advice," Aemond responds, a smirk playing upon his lips.

Helaena suddenly springs to her feet. "I don’t believe you two have had many opportunities to speak as of late. I will leave you to catch up" she suggests, a faraway look on her face. "I must attend to the children." Her lady-in-waiting follows closely behind as she departs.

Jaenara starts to rise, offering to assist, but Helaena insists she stay. Aemond can't help but conceal his amusement at Jaenara’s desperate state.

The princess exhales sharply and resumes her promenade through the gardens, without so much as a glance over her shoulder at Aemond. With a huff, he follows behind her, as her lady-in-waiting mirrors.

The prince wishes he could dismiss the attendant, wishing for a moment alone with Jaenara to speak without restraint. 

He thinks of another solution.

Aemond peers down at his niece and lets High Valyrian fall freely from his lips.

“You have been avoiding me.” 

Jaenara does not remove her eyes from the path in front of her.

“You have not sought me out.” She retorts, her tone cool and collected. Aemond lights up. He had not expected his niece to be fluent in their mother tongue, and hearing her voice enunciate the ancient words caused something unknown inside of him to stir. 

“I am now,” he replies evenly, “ And I have to say, I had not expected you to be so fluent in Valyrian. Not even my brother speaks it so well. That idiot can barely piece together a single sentence.” 

Jaenara laughs, “I am a Targaryen. Every Targaryen should speak their language. Understand their history.”

Aemond nods, “Something we can agree on, niece. Though I have to say, you speak it better than I thought a-”

“Then a bastard would?” Her words are laced with a bittersweet acknowledgment that catches Aemond off guard. His niece had never spoken the truth of her parentage in front of him - or anyone for that matter. In truth, Aemond found him unsettled from her acquiescence. Though he understood the only reason she dared to acknowledge the truth now, is because no one around them had a clue what she was saying. 

“You’re not laughing, uncle. Very unlike you - you who never passes up an opportunity to remind me of my blood.” Jaenara still seemed unfazed, her attention drifting to a cluster of blue irises at their feet. She bends gracefully to touch the silky petals, and Aemond finds himself captivated by the way her dark hair spills like a cascade of black silk over the blossoms. He clears his throat.

“You are to be my…ābrazȳrys (wife). I no longer wish to humiliate you over things out of your control, such as your parentage.” Aemond’s voice is steady and controlled, betraying his inner turmoil over making such remarks.

Jaenara lets out a laugh, though it sounds hollow. Much unlike the laughter she had shared with his sister. Her lady-in-waiting shifts uncomfortably behind them. “Actions speak louder than words, Aemond.” The princess rises from her spot amongst the flowers, turning to face her betrothed.

Aemond is filled with a stubborn determination at hearing her challenge, and takes a few steps towards her - until he can feel his niece’s breath fan over him. He stares down at her, and finds that he enjoys how she does not shrink under his gaze.

“Pār nyke jāhor gaomagon.” - Then I will act.

Jaenara laughs again, but it is quickly put to an end.

“I do not know why you laugh, Jaenara. I am being sincere.” His gaze is hard. 

She considers his words for a moment, and turns back to the garden path. The princess returns to the common tongue. 

"Come along, it is growing darker," Jaenara says, her voice carrying a hint of finality as she resumes their journey along the garden path. Aemond follows silently, his mind still processing the weight of their conversation. The sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the estate grounds, while a cool evening breeze stirs the leaves of ancient trees. When the couple finally reach the stone archways and paths of the Red Keep, Aemond speaks up once more. 

“You will have breakfast with me. Tomorrow” It is not a question, though his tone remains soft..

“I will?” Jaenara asks, an eyebrow raised in defiance.

“This is me taking action.” He offers her a wry smile.

Jaenara exhales and looks to her handmaiden, who skillfully avoids her gaze. “Fine. I will see you in the morning” She stomps off to her chambers, lady-in-waiting trailing behind. The princess does not get to see the small, honest smile that settles on Aemond’s lips. 

— — —

Early the next morning, Jaenara awakes to a polite knock on her chamber door. Alora, her lady-in-waiting, entered cautiously, offering a sheepish greeting. "Good morning, Your Grace."

The princess rubbed her eyes wearily and yawned. "Good morning, Alora. And please, call me Jaenara when it is just us. No need for formality in the privacy of these chambers." she replied with a tired attempt at a smile.

"Oh! Yes, my lady—I mean, Jaenara," Alora stumbled over her words, feeling conflicted over addressing a princess so casually. "Um... Aemond - the prince - sent me to assist you with dressing. He wishes to have breakfast with you?" She sounds uncertain.

Jaenara sighed lightly and pushed herself to her feet. "Very well. Let's not keep him waiting," she said, giving Alora a reassuring glance.

Alora deftly combs out Jaenara's long, ebony hair, swiftly braiding half of it and letting the rest fall down her back. As the princess gradually awakened, she engaged in light conversation with the younger girl, easing her nerves. 

With gentle assistance, Alora helped Jaenara into a splendid dress—its upper half a deep shade of black, its lower half a rich crimson. The sleeves were wrought with golden embroidery. Once satisfied with her handiwork, Alora guided Jaenara to the dining room, where Aemond awaited their arrival.

“Thank you, Alora. I think that will be all for now.” The princess smiles at her lady, dismissing her. Jaenara hesitantly pulls out a chair across from Aemond.

“Good morning.” She offers. An honest attempt at niceties. 

Aemond hums, sounding pleased. “Good morning.”

It remains quiet for a while, as the two begin to serve themselves and take a few bites of the breakfast that has been prepared. The prince steals glances at his niece, observing how her dark curls frame her face. Watching her spoon her food gracefully. Noting how her dress clings to her.

At last, Aemond ventured to break the quiet. “That dress suits you well.”

The princess pauses her cutting of a sausage. Jaenara had not expected to hear that kind of comment so early in the morning. And no less from Aemond of all people. She narrows her eyes at him.

“What?” She asks, as if offended.

Aemond pauses, mid-bite. “I only meant it as a compliment. The Targaryen colors agree with you.” 

Jaenara continues with her meal, deciding that pretending as though she had not heard her uncle was the best course of action.

Why did he say that? Does he mean to mock me?

The prince breaks the silence once more, wanting to change the subject. "I hear your mother's name day preparations have been finalized."

Jaenara swallows a mouthful of food and clears her throat. “Um…yes. I believe so. Everything should be in place by now. The ceremony will be in…five days? I believe.”

"My mother seems unusually eager for the occasion," Aemond remarked. "She and Rhaenyra have been quite chatty lately."

“You’ve noticed too?”

“It is hard not to.” Aemond admitted.

Jaenara shrugs, “True enough. Well, they seem happier anyway.”

Aemond only hums in agreement. “My mother, although…she seems to be even more excited about the wedding than the coronation ceremony.”

Jaenara sputtered on the ale served alongside their meal.

A smug grin spread across the prince's face.

“Oh? Is that so?” She asks as nonchalantly as she can. 

“Oh yes,” Aemond sounds amused, “I hear her and Rhaenyra have taken to planning a few things.”

"What!?" Now Jaenara could not hide her surprise. Her outburst drew the attention of nearby servants, and Aemond grinned at her fluttering.

“Um - I only meant. I had not known they were already planning the ceremony.” She finished, dabbing a napkin to the corners of her mouth.

“Well someone has to. We certainly have not spoken about it.” Aemond remarks.

Jaenara almost feels guilty. She searches Aemond’s eyes for any indication of regret or sadness over their lack of time together. 

“Well then…what would you like to discuss about it?” The princess makes an attempt to turn to the matter.

Aemond considers the question. “What kind of cake would you like?”

Jaenara lets out a true laugh at that, catching Aemond off guard.

“If I must tell you,” She says while catching her breath, “I am fond of lemon pastries.”

Aemond makes a noise of agreement. He recalls that her mother favors the sweets as well. “Then we shall have them.”

Jaenara looks up from her meal and the couple lock eyes. She stares intently into his, trying to decipher his unreadable expression. 

What are you doing, uncle? She is left to wonder. Jaenara feels a crack begin to form in the walls she had put up to keep Aemond out. But the fracture is filled as quickly as it appears when she considers that Aemond is simply playing his part. Putting up a charade. The princess looks at the man before her, and can only seem to remember the cruelties that he has dealt. Her heart hardens.

"Why do you care?" she questioned, her tone accusatory. Despite their heartfelt conversation in the garden the day before, Jaenara only continued in her struggle to believe in her uncle's sincerity.

“Because I want to care.” Aemond is taken aback, though he makes an effort to sound earnest.

The princess scoffs and takes a swig of ale. She rises to her feet.

“I am full.” she declares, signaling an end to the meal and perhaps to their conversation. Jaenara stands and walks the length of the table, drawing near to the door but coming close to Aemond.

That strikes a chord within the prince, “You are about as stubborn as a damn mule,” he mutters under his breath.

The retort is not lost upon the princess’ ears. Jaenara spun around abruptly, facing her uncle where he was currently still seated. "Excuse me?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Damn it," Aemond whispered to himself, closing his eyes briefly. 

“And here I thought you were being truthful yesterday when you said you no longer meant to belittle me.” She bites.

Some unseen force compelled Aemond onward. He reached out and gently but firmly grasped his niece's wrist.

"I only meant..." He struggled to find the right words. "Gods, you're infuriating."

Jaenara felt a stirring within her at his touch, but she pushed the sensation aside, focusing instead on his words. "I’m infuriating?" 

Now, Aemond raises his voice. “Yes! Infuriating. I am making a sincere effort to get to know you, and I am met with nothing but resistance. There is nothing we can do to change the marriage we will soon find ourselves in,” He rises from his chair, hand still gripped around Jaenara, “but I am making a sincere attempt to make it more bearable. For you.”

A part of Aemond understood that his words were primarily to uphold a facade, to maintain the illusion of feigned interest in his niece. Yet another part of him recognized sincerity in his sentiments. He couldn't help but feel pity for Jaenara. This thought had crossed his mind repeatedly—in the quiet of his chambers, in the stillness of the night, and even yesterday as he watched her depart from the estate gardens. She had undoubtedly drawn the short straw amidst their betrothal.

Jaenara Velaryon was being forced to marry Aemond, a scarred and flawed second son by his own reckoning. While Aemond had initially perceived the proposal of marriage to his own bastard niece as an insult, he couldn't deny the faint attraction he harbored towards her— a sentiment he was certain she did not reciprocate. 

The princess regarded her uncle with a peculiar mix of curiosity and contemplation, allowing his words to sink in. Jaenara's relationship with her uncle had always been incredibly strained — tense. Yet, as she observed the furrow in his brow and the genuine anguish in his eyes, she sensed a truth in his earnest plea. She reflected on her initial hopes—that they might spend their lives avoiding each other, barely exchanging words. Yet, standing before him now, she reconsidered. If Aemond—of all people—could muster some semblance of kindness, however feigned, Jaenara resolved she could reciprocate. Even if it was nothing but a lie. 

For in the convoluted dance of courtly alliances and familial expectations, sometimes even the semblance of civility could hold more weight than honesty in securing fragile peace.

With hesitant resolve, she reached out, gently clasping his hand in hers. Aemond feels goosebumps form on his skin from the additional contact. 

"Aemond," she began quietly, meeting his gaze squarely. He makes an effort to memorize how his name sounds on her lips.

Gods be damned, he thought. 

"I apologize. I hadn't fully appreciated your efforts. You are right. For this marriage to have any chance of contentment and peace, we must find common ground. We must make an effort to get to know each other."

The princess finished her apology, her words hanging in the air between them. All Aemond could manage in response was a silent nod, fearing that his mouth would betray him if he were to open it.

Jaenara withdrew her hand from his with a slight hesitation. "Well…I should be going. I intend to meet with my mother to discuss our impending wedding. There is much to plan," she added, her voice faltering slightly as she hurried out of the room.

Aemond stood there, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He glanced down at the hand that had briefly held his niece's, flexing his fingers thoughtfully, a mixture of uncertainty and determination swirling within him.

A/N: As you may have noticed, this chapter is structured a little differently! I decided to make these changes for narrative purposes/so everything flows better. Because of this, I will be revising the previous two chapters, so the next chapter may take a little longer to come out (I also have a job interview coming up, so I will be doing a lot more than just brainstorming and writing now T-T) Anyways! As always, thank you for reading :)

Tags: @toodlesxcuddles

[undressrehearsal]

right back where we started

summary: ellie is on tour as the opener for a popular band. she begrudgingly passes through the hometown that she had sworn she would never see again and runs into the one good thing she left behind.

tags: some sad stuff, ellie has daddy issues, mentions of alcohol, modern au, not rockstar ellie but that same kinda genre???, no smut in this one sorry this is all setting the scene, this is another shorter one 3.6k words

a/n: listen. I'm gonna level with yall. life's been fucking insane. it's been what 3 months since I posted something?? and it's because 1. my fiancée and I are buying a house 2. and planning a wedding 3. I work 45 hour weeks (at a job I hate so much omg) 4. I'm writing a book and 5. I'm preparing for a p major surgery (I go on tuesday)

so yeah, life's been insane. but I missed writing fics. I'm writing my book so I never stopped writing but writing a lil fun fic just hits different yk?

anyway enjoy and look forward to a few (I'm thinking 3?) parts of this

love yall. reply and lmk if you wanna be added to my tag list. also I'm posting this on my phone so the formatting might be fucked lmk

part 1

Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she had been in this city.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could remember exactly the last time she had been in this city. She had watched it disappear in her mirror when she had driven her bike west three years ago in search of the horizon. She had hoped she would find something more once she got there - more than the dingy dorm room she had loosely called home and the classes that had made her eyes glaze over; something more than playing at the bar’s open mic nights, her guitar hard to hear over the noisy din of drunk students and drunker professors; something more than a future that had been planned for her by the time she was in high school.

Her dad had kicked her out after she dropped out, of course, but that was fine. She had planned to leave that night anyway; she had kept a packed bag hidden underneath her bed for months. She hadn’t seen him in three years, either, and she planned to keep it that way.

But when she woke up and saw the city outside the bus window, silhouetted against the rising sun, something in her chest rose to her throat and refused to be swallowed back down.

She hadn’t missed it - but as she looked down at her shaking hands, Ellie figured her body must not have gotten that memo.

The band she was traveling with were still sleeping; she could hear the singer snoring in her bunk, could see the bassist's leg sticking out into the aisle. She had never been a morning bird - back at her shitbox apartment, you'd rarely catch her up before noon - but something about being stuck on a bus for days made her restless. It was her first time touring - after three years of playing at open mics and taking small jobs singing at the senior center - and she wasn't used to feeling her own bed constantly shifting beneath her.

Which is how she always ended up pacing the length of the bus, tapping her fingers against her thighs as the confined world around her slept, waiting desperately for the driver to pull off to whatever venue they had booked. She wasn't sure what the band did before their shows in the evenings, but she didn't stick around long enough to ask. Maybe it was rude, but she couldn't force herself to hang out with the band who only chose her because their usual opener had “flaked” on them - which was how they described it when the opener couldn't travel with them for several months after their mother had just died.

So, yeah, Ellie couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad about it when she rushed off the bus as soon as it parked, not even sticking around to let the band know where she was going. They wouldn't care either way. Hell, they were probably so hungover they wouldn't wake up until their show started in several hours.

The driver - his name was Zachary (never Zach) and he was the only one who paid her any mind - helped Ellie hoist her bike down from the rack on the back of the bus. The band had teased her about bringing it, bitching about how it showed she didn't want to hang out with them. She had been tempted to tell them they were right, but she couldn't really risk losing the first real gig she’d gotten. She lifted the seat and dug her helmet out, waving to Zachary as he disappeared back into the bus to get his own well-deserved rest.

The purr of the bike was a familiar comfort beneath her. Lowering the visor of her helmet to block out the sun, she squinted at the streets sprawled before her. She realized, with dizzying familiarity, that she was in the next neighborhood over from her old apartment. Hell, she had watched a few shows at the venue she was playing at - something in her stomach clenched.

Fuck, she needed coffee.

With the wind cold against her bare arms, Ellie let the world fly by, the city waking up around her. Her phone remained snuggly in her bag; she didn't need directions here, the familiar streets leading her down well-worn paths, winding all the way back to a life that was no longer hers.

It was muscle memory that led her back to the coffee shop she had frequented as a student. She looked up at it, a glow around its worn brick from the rising sun, and something tightened in her chest. They had replaced the patio chairs - the old ones had been practically falling apart three years ago - but otherwise it hadn't changed.

Ellie cursed under her breath, swallowing around the foreign lump in her throat, and climbed off her bike. When she took the steps two at a time, it felt like somebody else had taken the wheel. It was a familiar stranger that opened the door.

The smell hit her first. They say that scent has the strongest tie to memory, and the smell of burnt coffee beans hit her like a punch. There had always been a sweetness underneath it, something she had never been able to place but thought might be honey? When she stepped up to the counter, she could even smell the milk they were steaming.

The barista - a young girl with faded pink hair tied up into space buns - looked up from her phone and said, in a voice teetering on the edge between cheerful and bored, “How’s it going?”

Ellie took her in briefly, noting the brown corduroy overalls and the star-shaped nose ring, and was comforted knowing that this place was just as queer as she had left it. She would bet money on the fact that if she peeked over the counter, this girl would be wearing beat up Docs. She was young enough to be a student - probably an English major, if she had to guess.

She always ordered the same thing - iced mocha with oat milk. She had never understood why her dad drank his coffee black.

The barista - her tag said Dianna She/Her/Hers - eyed her as she rang Ellie up, brows quirked. When she smiled, dimples caved her cheeks. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you a student?”

Ellie fought the urge to groan - this girl was just trying to be friendly (and was probably trying to decide if Ellie’s flannel meant she was gay or was just a bad fashion choice), but the last thing she wanted to do after failing to sleep on a bus and waking up at the ass-crack of dawn was to make small talk.

Still, she smiled and said, “I used to be.”

She paid and stuffed the remainder of her cash into the tip jar. When Dianna thanked her, her cheeks were as pink as her hair. Ellie could feel her eyes lingering on her as she walked away, nodding awkwardly in thanks.

This place really hadn’t changed in three years. The coffee shop had a reputation of students writing all along the walls - over a decade ago, they had simply stopped trying to paint over it, so the walls were littered in signatures and drawings and claims of call this number for a good time. Scattered poetry was written along the edges of the windows, an incredibly detailed Sharpie drawing of a cat peeking over the top of the doorway. When she searched for it, she found that her own scrawled handwriting was still there, small letters where nobody would think to look, right underneath the thermostat: Find me where the sun sets east. Don’t forget me.

She swallowed the lump that threatened to choke her and stepped away. Her eyes stung from sleep deprivation and nothing more.

Ellie scanned the room and found that, to her annoyance, nearly every table was taken. Students huddled around notebooks and laptops, engrossed in their work or else on Netflix to avoid studying. Professors blinked wearily, clutching their own cups of coffee as though they were lifelines holding them to this realm. Ellie could see the spot she had frequented herself - a booth tucked by the window, where she could write her songs in a dingy notebook without anyone looking over her shoulder.

Now, there was a guy with his cheek pressed to the cold surface, snoring lightly.

Ellie jumped when Dianna called her name, holding out a cup so filled with coffee that it trickled over the side and down the glass. Ellie took it gingerly, holding it in careful fingers to not spill any more on the countertop.

Dianna held onto the cup for several seconds longer than necessary, her fingers - cold from the glass - lingering on Ellie's. When a crooked smile pulled at her lips, her brown eyes sparkled. There was a teasing tilt to her voice when she said, “I hope to see you around, Ellie.”

Ellie gave her what she hoped was a friendly smile - judging by the way Dianna’s cheeks bloomed pink, she must have succeeded - before turning away. She almost felt guilty for the relief she felt when she found there was no phone number left on her glass this time. She was never sure whether it was nicer to ghost somebody or to send a gentle rejection through text, and she did not have the energy for that decision.

She turned, searching for an empty seat to slouch in and try not to fall asleep into her coffee, when her eyes found you.

You hadn’t changed a bit.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true either. You had changed - anybody would in three years. You had changed your hair, and now you dressed differently than she remembered - you used to bitch so much about how you couldn’t dress how you wanted, and now, looking at you three years later, she was happy to see that you were finally dressing like all those pictures you had saved in your little Pinterest folder of “outfit inspo.”

Ellie could see the mark of three whole years, but truthfully, you hadn’t changed. You were slouched over a laptop, leaning way too close to the screen, and you still had that pinch between your brows when you concentrated, the one that she used to run her thumb over; she could still feel how soft your skin was beneath her fingers.

She should have ignored you - she should have gone to slump in a corner of the coffee shop like she had planned, trying not to fall asleep into her cup and pretending to not notice you even as her eyes kept cutting across the cafe to find you again. She should have pushed the memories away just like she had pushed away all of the other memories associated with this city - hell, she should have never come back to this city in the first place. There were too many memories here that she had spent three years, a thousand miles, and an ocean of whiskey running away from.

And yet Ellie found her feet carrying her over to your table of their own volition. She walked the tightrope between who she is and who she once was, chasing a memory of the only good thing she left behind.

You didn’t look up at her as she approached. You kept your head bowed over your laptop, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. There was no reason for you to look up - Ellie could have been any nameless stranger coming to bother you when you were clearly just trying to work.

But Ellie had never been good at leaving well enough alone. Which is why she hesitated for only a moment before reaching out and tapping lightly on your shoulder. She had to bite back a laugh when you jumped, pulling your headphones from your ears and swiveling around to look up at her.

She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t do an embarrassing acrobatic jump when you met her eyes. And she had always been a terrible liar.

“Hey,” Ellie said, trying her damnedest to keep her voice steady; she only somewhat succeeded. She cleared her throat, lowering her voice when she said, “Remember me?”

Satisfaction bloomed warm in her stomach when your eyes widened, taking in the sight of her. Truthfully, she must’ve looked like shit; she had had to take a disturbingly brief shower at the last rest stop - the water apparently didn’t get any warmer than antarctic - and she hadn’t looked in a mirror for a few days. She had forgotten to pack her brush, so her hair must have been standing up at odd angles. And God knew what the lack of sleep was doing to the ever-growing shadows under her eyes.

But none of this stopped you from running your eyes down her body, cheeks pink when you finally looked up to meet her eyes again. And Ellie couldn’t stop the slow smile that spread across her face, her own cheeks growing warm. It wasn’t intentional when her voice dropped another octave, nearly a murmur when she said, mostly to herself, “Yeah, you remember me.”

“Holy shit, Ellie?” You jumped to your feet, a smile pulling at your lips as you gripped her arm. The familiar shine in your eyes did something funny to her stomach that she was way too stubborn to name. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I was just, uh- just passing through town,” she found herself saying, rubbing at the back of her neck. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but explaining to you the actual reason she finally came back to this hell-hole town suddenly seemed daunting. “Wanted to check out some old haunts, I guess.”

And then you just… looked at her, for several long moments - long enough to make Ellie squirm. Your eyes bore into hers, searching for something that she had buried three years ago.

You jumped, and whatever spell that was floating between you broke when your phone buzzed from where it still sat on the table. You scooped it up and flashed an apologetic smile to the glaring student a few seats away. Swiping at the screen, you cursed under your breath:

“Fuck, I have to get to class.” You looked back up at her again, a question behind your eyes, and Ellie had never wished so hard that she could read minds. You hesitated for only a moment before saying, words rushed, “Do you want to walk with me?” Before Ellie could respond, you continued, picking up your cup and fiddling with the straw, “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you and I want to catch up. But you’re probably busy, so you don’t have to-”

“I’d love to,” she cut you off, trying to smother the smile that pulled at her pink cheeks. She failed drastically when you smiled back at her.

After asking for a to-go cup from Dianna - thankfully no number written on the plastic cup either, despite the way the barista eyed Ellie as she left - she followed you out the door and back into the blinding morning sun. The mid-October air bit at her cheeks, creeping under her flannel; the cold coffee in her hand made her fingers sting, but you were already walking away, so she grit her teeth and followed.

And it was like you both just fell back into place, aligning with each other as though that empty space had never existed. You were working towards your graduate degree, Ellie discovered, and were working as a TA to get through; the class you were heading to was the dreaded public speaking class that you taught around your own curriculum. You laughed as you talked about some ridiculous speech a student had recently presented, and Ellie had forgotten just how much she liked the sound until it was burying behind her ribs again.

Ellie didn't tell you exactly why she had come back. When she’d left, you had known she was chasing a dream - it was the main reason she had presented when she broke up with you. The idea of long distance was too hard - too complicated - and Ellie didn’t want anything tying her to this town.

Even so, her body still wanted to fall into old habits. She told you about her roommate and how, when Ellie had been up too late writing a new song or her roommate had had a late shift at the hospital, they would play truth or dare until they were too drunk to stay awake, and her fingers brushed against yours, muscle memory making her reach for you. Ellie told you how she had visited her sister, Sarah, while passing through Houston, and she wanted so badly to lace your fingers together. She wanted to wrap her arm around your waist - hell, she even wanted to grab your ass right where everyone could see, just like she used to. She tucked her free hand in her pocket.

“You still haven’t told me why you came back,” you said, coming to a stop in front of the Communications building - it was just as tall and ominous as Ellie remembered. Her stomach lurched at the site, remembering all the speeches she had to make in her own classes. She supposed Public Speaking wasn’t a useless class now, considering she didn't stutter when she had to speak in front of an audience now.

Ellie shrugged, dropping her cup into a trashcan without looking at you. “Like I said, I’m just passing through-”

“Bullshit,” you said, but there was no malice behind it. You tilted your head to meet her eyes and smiled at her, even as your eyes held something unreadable. “The Ellie I knew couldn’t wait to get out of this shithole - her words, not mine. She wouldn’t simply pass through - she would go out of her way to stay in the next town over. So,” you crossed your arms, “what changed?”

Before, if you had ever crossed your arms at her, Ellie would reach out and gently pull your arms away from your chest, pulling you into an embrace. She wanted nothing more than to pull you into her, instinct unaware of the three years and a thousand miles that had separated you. Instead, she leaned against the wall of the building, the brick biting into her back. “Nothing’s changed. Trust me, if it was up to me, I wouldn't be here.”

For only a second, your face twisted into something unreadable that pulled at Ellie's stomach. But you quickly schooled your expression, tilting your head, your smile soft. “Listen, I have to go - if I'm too late, these fuckers are just gonna try to skip. But we should meet up later - I want to catch up.” When Ellie opened her mouth to say you had been catching up, you continued, “Really catch up. I want you to tell me everything - it's been years, so we have a lot to cover.” You looked at your phone and cursed. “Look, my last class ends at 3:25. Meet me on the green after?” For good measure, you stuck out your bottom lip and added, “Please?”

Ellie had never been good at resisting that look - she had given into you so many times from that look alone. She had to bite back the sudden, stupid smile pulling at her cheeks, so she pressed her lips together and looked away. After three years, you still made her cheeks flush without trying.

“Okay,” was all she could say.

Without warning, you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around her neck briefly. Her hands hovered at your sides, unsure of where to go. Feeling your body pressed against her again - feeling the warm brush of your breath against her neck - short-circuited her brain, leaving her gasping on dry land.

Before she could figure out where to put her fucking hands, you murmured in her ear, “I really did miss you, Els,” and pulled away, just as quickly as you had come. Ellie's mouth hadn't even caught up to her brain by the time you were gone, the door closing softly behind you.

Later, after she had had a proper breakfast from McDonald's, she was still thinking about you. Seeing you again had opened up a bottle that she had sealed away, and the cork wouldn't fit back into it. Her fingers itched with the memory of your skin beneath them. When you had hugged her, she had smelled the shampoo that you apparently still used, and she remembered how it had felt to have your head on her chest, breathing you in as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. And your lips next to her ear - that opened a whole subcategory of memories that she tried desperately to push away.

She was only here for the night. She lost count of how many times she had to remind herself.

Ellie was stopped at a red light, leaning her bike from one foot to the other, when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She glanced at the blinking crosswalk sign - twenty seconds, so she still had plenty of time before the light turned green - before fishing her phone out. She had to squint against the sun, straining to make out the screen. She nearly dropped the phone when she saw the familiar name popping up on her screen, fumbling to open the text.

There was a screenshot of an Instagram post from the venue she was going to play at. The band's name was in bold letters, stars pasted around a grainy picture of the group. And in small letters underneath - like an afterthought - was her name: Ellie Miller.

And underneath, in all caps:

YOU'RE PLAYING AT THE HAWTHORNE?????

Her face flushed all over again. After all these years, you had still kept her number.

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