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heli-writes · 8 months ago

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A dragon's heart, part 4.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, violence, beheading, blood

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Series Masterlist

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At first, y/n watches Katsuki pack by himself. Eventually, he starts barking orders at her that she doesn't get. He keeps pointing at things y/n starts moving his belongings toward his dragon. Katsuki binds the bags onto the saddle with some rope. When he's done, he shakes everything one more time to check if it's secure. Y/n stands next to him feeling a little bit lost. She feels insecure since she doesn't know what's going to happen next.

"Will he take me with him?", she wonders. If he does, what will it mean? She's not stupid. Y/n knows exactly who is standing in front of her. Bakugou Katsuki, leader of the dragonblood tribe, tamer of the biggest beast known to mankind, slaughter of man. The last thing she witnessed herself.

Clearly, she has heard enough stories about his clan. About their ruthlessness, their crimes. How ten of his men can take out an entire village. She shudders when she thinks about what the stories say they do to women. Y/n gnaws at her bottom lip in distress. So far, Katsuki hasn't shown any aggression or ill intentions towards her. She wonders if the stories are lies or at least exaggerations.

Then again, so far she's only seen Katsuki. He is rude and mean. Thinking back on how he laughed at her when she burned her mouth, he also likes seeing people in pain. Moreover, he easily could kill her if he wanted to. What would it be like if she was in a whole group of men like Katsuki? Group dynamics often develop a strange momentum.

The point is, does she want Katsuki to take her with him? If he takes her back to his home, she would have to live with these people she's heard so many terrible things about. She doesn't speak their language, she doesn't know anything about their culture. How would she even fit it? Y/n shakes her head trying to push the thoughts out of her head. She can't even be sure that that's Katsuki's plan. In addition, what other option does she have? She knows her chances alone out here are grim. Teaming up with the big scary men might just be a chance to survive.

Just when she decided that, as long as no other option opens up, she might as well go with the flow, Katsuki whistles at her sharply. Y/n is ripped out of her thoughts. He stares at her angrily and shouts instructions at her. When he gestures at her to come over, y/n walks closer to him.

When y/n stands next to him and the winged animal, Katsuki explains something speaking rather quickly and wildly gesturing. When y/n doesn't do what he wants her to do, he grabs her hips and lifts her up the dragon. Y/n throws a leg around the saddle and Katsuki pushes her up. Then Katsuki lifts himself up into the saddle. Sitting behind y/n, Katsuki grabs the reigns and gives the dragon a sign.

While y/n still feels anxious about being so high up in the air, she's not as scared as last time. She still clings onto the handle until her knuckles are all white. Katsuki's broad arms cage her in which gives her some sort of comfort. At least she can't fall off on either side.

After a while, she relaxes and suddenly becomes painfully aware of how close Katsuki is to her. She can feel his abs pressed against her back and his breath against her ear. She shivers even though Katsuki's body warmth keeps her comfortably warm.

Katsuki seems to have a plan for where they were going. They fly for about two hours before the dragon lands on the outskirts of the forest. Katsuki gets down first before he helps y/n get down. Y/n feels a bit unsteady on her legs. The inside of her thighs ache and y/n excuses herself behind a tree. Lifting up her skirt, she takes a look at the tender skin on the inside of her legs. They're red and sore. Y/n's surprised the skin hasn't grazed off to a point where she's bleeding. Her dress wasn't made for riding a horse or a dragon.

*~*~*

Katsuki watches y/n disappear behind the tree suspiciously. He noticed how she was still not comfortable with flying. He wonders whether she needs to piss or puke. Scoffing, he turns around and starts setting up camp. When y/n wobbles back, she starts helping him.

They were just about to undo the knots of the rope that secured the bags onto the saddle, when the dragon shifts and lets out a deep, threatening growl. Y/n shys away. "Woops, does he not like that?", she exclaims. Simultaneously, Katsuki swirls around watching the edge of the forest. His hand rest on the hilt of his sword.

Suddenly, the buzzing sound of an arrow fills the air. Katsuki grips y/n's arm and yanks her to he side just in time. Her injured shoulder almost gets pierced again. Next, a bunch or rough-looking men attack their little party with roars of war. "Bandits.", y/n thinks. Katuski yells something at her and gestures at the dragon.

The dragon moves quickly. One second he was behind them, the next he is in front of y/n biting a man's head off. Y/n ducks behind the beast. She hears Katsuki swearing and blades clashing against each other. Y/n rumbles through her back for her hunting knife.

Suddenly, a hand is pushed onto her mouth and an arm grabs her midsection. The person tries to drag her away. Y/n struggles against the man's grip. "Keep struggling and you only make it worse for yourself.", the man tells her.

The dragon blocks the view and y/n can't spot or yell at Katsuki. The man keeps pulling her backward. Instead of panicking, y/n suddenly feels very calm. Living on the road, the wandering folk teach all their children basic self-defense. The scenario of being grabbed from behind is something her elders have practiced her a hundred times.

She prepares to free herself out of the man's grip. She stomps onto his foot and bites his hand simultaneously. She bites so hard, she can taste the metallic flavor of blood. The man yells in distress and lets go of her in his surprise. Swiftly, y/n draws out her tiny knife. She goes straight for his liver. She should've gone for his Adam's apple, piercing his throat, as her elders taught her but somehow she's not courageous or fierce enough to do so. Instead, she stabs him in the liver. However, she's not sure if her tiny knife could even cut deep enough to harm the organ. Nevertheless, it's enough for the man to fall onto his back and clutch the wound in pain.

Y/n swirls around. The dragon is busy fending off some bandits. Somewhere behind it, Katsuki's fighting. Suddenly, Katsuki stumbles backwards and into y/n's view. There's a cut on his bicep and cheek. He holds a sword in his head that drips with blood. Three more bandits come into view, all three attacking the blonde at the same time.

"I've got to do something!", y/n thinks in a panic, "He can't fight them all on his own!". It's not a rational thought. Her elders always drilled into her head that the moment someone carries a knife or another kind of weapon, you do not try to fight them. Despite that, y/n finds herself rushing towards them. Without a real plan, she jumps onto on of the bandit's back. Her weight is enough to make the bandit stumble backwards. It also throws off the other two momentarily giving Katsuki enough time to swing his sword at one of them. He cuts open one of the bandit's throats similarly as he did to the man from y/n's village.

Meanwhile, y/n is still holding on tightly to the third guy's back who tries to shake her off. Y/n clings onto his throat for dear life and the bandit has trouble breathing. Luckily, bandits usually are not skilled swordsmen thus the man is too disoriented to get the idea that he could use his weapon against y/n. Unfortunately, he's still larger and stronger than y/n so he does manage to shake her off eventually.

Y/n falls onto her butt. An uncomfortable pain shoots up her injured shoulder. The man swirls around to her clutching his throat and raising his saber. His face is contorted in anger. "You little bitch!", he roars as he raises his weapon to strike.

Katsuki sees what is happening out of the corner of his eyes. He's still fighting the other bandit but upon noticing that y/n is about to get killed, he turns to the side in an attempt to rush to her aide. This gives the bandit an opening to strike. While Katsuki reacts quickly enough to stop the bandit from piercing him with his weapon completely, the bandit still manages to cut deeply into Katsuki's right leg.

Meanwhile, y/n is quick to roll over and the saber misses her by inches. Quickly she's on her feet again, crouching and holding her knife up in defense. The man takes another swing at her but before he can fulfill the action, his head is severed from the rest of his body.

While y/n wasn't looking, Katsuki killed the second bandit and went to her rescue. The bandit's head drops to the ground with a loud 'thup'. The rest of his body falls to the ground still twitching. Y/n stares at the sight in front of her with wide eyes. The sight doesn't seem to faze Katsuki at all but he is out of breath and his face in contorted in pain. He grabs y/n's injured arm and pulls her towards the dragon who is still fighting off some bandits. From the edge of the forest more cries of war are heard as reinforcements of the bandits run onto the open.

"Shit.", Katsuki curses. There are too many even for him. Where on earth were these assholes hiding? He should've been more observant. He shouldn't have been so distracted by this stupid woman. He pulls y/n towards the beast and pushes her up. Y/n is quick to react and pulls herself up into the saddle just as Katsuki does just seconds after her.

The dragon beats his wings and the force of the air sends a few bandits backwards. Some still try to climb the dragon in an attempt to get to Katsuki and y/n. When one manages to grab Katsuki's foot, y/n stabs her knife into the man's hand who immediately lets go.

As they rise into the air, more bandits lose hold and fall onto the ground. Arrows are shot at the three of them and Katsuki pushes y/n's head down in an attempt to stop her from getting shot in the face. Once they are high enough that the bandits can't reach them, Katsuki lets go of y/n's head.

Just when y/n thinks they're safe, Katsuki turns the dragon around and steers it back to the bandits. "Is he absolutely out of his mind?", y/n thinks as they descend again. However, they never touch land. Instead, the dragon lets out a rumbling sound and spits waves of never-ending fire. Suddenly, the world is burning and hot. Y/n hears the cries of the bandits and the heat licking at her legs.

Quickly they leave again and y/n watches the bandits and parts of the forest burn to the ground over her shoulder. Just when they are out of sight, she notices Katsuki's heavy breathing behind her. She also notices how his grip on her isn't as tight as it was before. That's when she feels a warm liquid drop down her leg. Katsuki rests his head on her shoulder.

Y/n lets go of the handle of the saddle and grabs his hands with both of hers stabilizing his hold on the reigns. The last thing she wants is for both of them to fall off the damn dragon.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @graviewaviee @cosmicbreathe @tsukikoxo @nnubee @witchbishsblog @elajede @bsallergy @frxcless @berryvioo @eyesforbkg @shamelesjaroflaffytaffy @pastelbaby1111 @iamlizardgod @plvt0fvtvre @hello-peanutdoodle-blog @guccirosegold @kookiemyfeelsposts @sweetblueworm @54fangirl @sakurarr1122 @rv19 @leeliyah @king-dynamight @confused-smol-fan @xmaudx @waterstarz @pinkwhiskerglitter @adeline96 @zoom1374 @fingui @giuli-in-earth @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @futuristicallykawaiiturtle @tragedyofabrokensoul @dynakats @rebel-loves-anime @cloudxluv @itsssyagurll @sunshineandwitchery @cloudxluv @hollykanuki @atouchofmidnight @nutellaenjoyer @musicbecky @miacitocco @cassouandco @penguinlovestowrite @sleepykittycx

[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

#mha #bnha #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #barbarian bakugou x y/n #barbarian bakugou x reader #barbarian bakugou imagine #fantasy au bakugou #mha fantasy au #bnha fantasy au #bakugou katuski x y/n

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aprilthearcher · 1 year ago

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burning red [roman roy x reader]

word count: 1.8k

[somewhat angst]

warnings: curse words, ooc roman ?, english is not my first language, not edited, rushed ending.

a/n: somewhat inspired by “red” and “false god” by taylor, idk i was just listening to these two songs on loop. i’m also supposed to be studying, but instead i wrote this, so enjoy! love me some greg sprinkles, couldn’t not include him. alsooo, this could read as being part of the same story as my previous roman blurb, but you won't have any problems if you haven't read it.

Loving Roman was complicated yet insanely easy, too tiresome at times and then incredibly invigorating. He had that effect on people, or maybe just her. Everyone else was probably too complicated for her to like. Not funny enough, not witty or smart enough, not loud enough. No one was Roman enough, not even across the whole damn world.

Getting him off her mind had been more difficult than she’d expected, probably because (Y/N) only realised her feelings for him after she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He had taken over her whole body without knowing. It was Roman’s lips she imagined when kissing blonde, ginger, brunette guys at pubs; it were Roman’s eyes she thought of when her friends would ask her about her favourite colour; it was Roman’s face she conjured up in her head when they’d ask about her type of man.

At first, she believed it to be some sort of sick joke the Universe was trying to play on her: discovering she had feelings for her long-time friend — one she’d known since they were in diapers, who would grab her by her ponytail whenever she was paying attention to his siblings instead of him (just him) —, barely two or three weeks in her first year of university, a university that was on a whole other continent, separated by an entire ocean. Still, (Y/N) knew she could fly back home in a couple of hours — “I’ll arrange a jet for you if you wanna come down”, her dad would always say over the phone —, but the idea of seeing him again with this new information in her head and heart (that couldn’t help but jump at the mention of him) terrified her.

Her mind would make her remember him and his antics in the worst possible times: while dancing with some random guy at a club, his hands on her hips, the cheap cologne contrasting the rich scented one Roman couldn’t get enough of. On a first date, set up by her friends who believed she had to let go of this “prude” behaviour and just let someone take her to their bed. When joking with the guys that approached her and her friends at the bar, knowing exactly what Roman would think of them, the cruel comments he’d throw, the silly faces. The soft eyes when they were both too drunk to even speak a coherent sentence, although most times nothing was coherent with Roman. She had tried looking for those same bright eyes; once more, she ended up disappointed. None of them were Roman. None of them ever will be, no matter how much (Y/N) tried to shape them into a replica of him. All of Roman was unique.

Hence, the dreadful turmoil inside her stomach once Shiv, with some tint of malice in her eyes directed at Roman, introduced her to Tabitha. “Roman’s companion”, she’d said. The blonde, curly haired woman greeted (Y/N) with an eager smile on her face. She said her name at the same time both of them shook hands. A voice inside her head told her this was all wrong. How long? Where did it happen? Why? Why? Why now that she was back?

“Oh, you don’t need to tell me your name,” Tabitha mentioned playfully, a short roll of her eyes a second later. “You’re all Roman’s been talking about lately”.

“Only lately?” Shiv laughed, taking a sip from her glass she focused her eyes on Roman , then (Y/N). “Roman’s always talking about (Y/N). I mean, he was practically her lap dog when they were children.”

“Oh, fuck off Siobhan,” Roman bark back.

“Well, he only mentioned you as of now.” The knot in her stomach tightened. The worst part was she could see Tabitha hadn’t said it out of spite, nor jealousy, but as a fleeting comment to add something more to the conversation.

He hadn’t mentioned her to Tabitha? Not even once? She had tried everything to block him out of her head, to keep him out of her dreams and fantasies; to catch herself every time she was going to bring up him in a conversation again, and he didn’t say her name until he found out (Y/N) was coming back to New York? What kind of sick fuck was he? What kind of sick fuck was she, devoting probably her whole life to Roman fucking Roy?

“Oh,” (Y/N) managed to croak out before her father appeared beside her and whispered in her ear that she should spend some time chatting with the other guests.

* * *

Cousin Greg was great company, quite weird before you took in the awkwardness that seemed to surround him and make him stick out like a sore thumb in the midst of all these old, rich people, but great nonetheless. He had asked her about her years in London, what she studied and what she did for fun, her friends and hobbies. (Y/N) found herself enjoying the night, sitting on a couch by his side, meanwhile both of their cheeks were getting rosier and rosier with every new cup of alcohol brought to them. Greg was in the middle of telling her about how he had screwed up the first day at his job on one of the parks owned by Waystar, cracking up from time to time from how she tried to hide her laugh in order to keep the attention away from them, when two hands settled on his shoulders, hard and making a noise that was apparent that the gesture was meant to at least hurt him a little. Roman was behind him with a clench jaw and big, maniac eyes.

“Greeeg, I think Tom was looking for you, man”.

“Oh, really?” Greg turned his upper body in Roman’s direction, which from the side looked somewhat weird because of his tall, lanky form. “Because, because I just saw him and he didn’t say anything”.

“Yes, oh really, man. And he said if you didn’t go talk to him right now, he would fire your sorry ass”.

Greg was on his feet quicker than she'd expected after seeing him drown glass after glass with her. He towered over her for a moment, saying a quick “see you later” before going in search of Tom.

“You’re mean, Roman”.

“Yeah, well, tell me something I don’t fucking know”.

They fell silent for a second. Around them, people were still in mindless conversation, setting down empty cups on the waiter’s tray while picking up new ones from another one. Alcohol seemed to be the only way to survive a family gathering at the Roy’s, even a harmless one.

“You wanna get out of here?” Roman asked. She turned her head to the right to face him, he was already looking at her. His eyes no longer had the maniac fog blurring them, there was now a tranquil pool of honey.

***

“My dad is probably gonna be mad if he finds out I ditched the party”.

“Please, (Y/N), since when did you become such a goody two shoes?” Roman leaned against the railing of the terrace, following her with his eyes while she approached him and finally set her elbows on top of the banister. From this position, he looked taller. “Don’t tell me you were like this in London. I mean, with no one to hover over you, you sure had a looot to do, didn’t you?”

“I went to London to study, remember? Not to go out and get drunk every night.”

“Well, I’m sure if you had been with me, you could’ve done both.”

“Yeah, probably, but you weren’t with me.”

“Whose fault is that, huh?” He crossed his arms over his chest. Her eyebrows raised.

“Are you saying it was my fault? We haven’t seen each other for how long and it was all my fault?”

“Why are you acting like it isn’t? It literally is, (Y/N), you left m.. you left and, and you never came back.” He had walked a few steps away from her.

“It’s not like you couldn’t have visited, Roman. Just ask daddy for one of his jets, it’s literally that easy.”

“Yes, but - but you left, (Y/N). You left, and it’s not like you chose some university a state away, you chose one a whole continent away! That’s got to mean something!”

“As if Roman fucking Roy couldn’t get one goddamn plane and fly over to London!” She had abandoned her previous position, now fully facing Roman, who was still a couple of feet away, getting closer to the door. He was trying to run, just like it he always did whenever they fought.

“I didn’t - I didn’t want you to get annoyed by me! To realise what a true moron I was. Then you barely talked to me after you arrived at your fancy university and - and started your very difficult subjects.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes in confusion for a moment. Though it was easier to throw everything at him, (Y/N) knew that she was also responsible for their lack of communication over these last years.

Only the bustling, almost never-ending nightlife of New York could be heard. Her chest hurted, her eyes would fill with tears at any point now. She was tired and drunk, and just fucking missed Roman too much for them to be fighting the first night she was back in the city.

“Now you are not saying anything?” Roman broke the silence. He was closer to the door, she noticed. “You know what? Fuck you, (Y/N). Fuck you for making feel all this – all this fucking, fucking shit!”

“What fucking shit?” She asked quietly, desperate for an answer, the answer.

“I - I don’t know what fucking shit, just shit, okay?”

“Say it.”

Roman didn’t respond, instead he turned her back on her, walking towards the door. Before he could reach the handle, she screamed at him.

“Fucking say it, Roman.”

“I’ve just told you, I don’t know. It’s just shit, okay? All of it,” he screamed back, opening up his arms, exaggerating his point. “I - I run out of breath and then my chest is all funny, and and I hate seeing you laughing with fucking Greg of all people. It’s shit, fucking shit!”

Drawing closer to him, she tested his limits. He was breathing hard from all the screaming and moving around the terrace to put distance between them, but he didn’t stop when (Y/N) got so close their bodies were almost touching. It was her with whom physical closeness wasn’t a problem, he always told himself it was because of how close they were pretty much their whole lives.

They only looked at each other for a few moments, the waves of conflict had calmed down fast and efficiently enough that for anyone else it would seem like nothing had happened between them.

Roman wished — deep, deep down — that they could stay like this forever, without having to go back and confront his family, especially his father; that they could make this terrace, above Logan’s place ironically enough, a little haven, only for them; that they would never be found.

#roman roy x reader #succession #succession x reader #roman roy

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mydarllinglover · 5 months ago

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Stars Collided || Twenty Three

Ahsoka brushed Lovisa's hair, as she watched her in the mirror, with a careful eye.

"Lovey, I have noticed you haven't been able to ditch the smile on your face, that is unlike you."

"Oh, you are cruel, Snips, I am always so joyous, in the mornings."

"Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?" Ahsoka grabbed her shoulders, as her face morphed into worry.

"Stop your teasing, I am home, with my family, after so long apart, is that not something to be happy about?"

"For you, no, but could this possibly have something to do with a certain Jedi's bedroom, being down the hall?"

Lovisa froze, her smile dropping from her face.

"Of course not."

"What shall happen, between you, once he is to return to the temple, and you are given duties, as heir?"

"I am not sure, I'm afraid, I'm still working that out, in my head." She sighed.

"Well, whatever it is, know that you need not to keep it from me, I am by your side, Lovey, I will keep this secret with me, until the day I take my last breath." She linked her pinkie finger, with the Princesses'

"Do you truly mean that?" Lovisa turned in her seat, to face her friend.

"Of course I do, I would never wish to betray you."

"Soka." Lovisa gushed, pulling the handmaiden into a tight hug.

"Now let us go." Ahsoka pulled away, placing an tiara, to match the beautiful dress, Lovisa was wearing, atop her head. "It is time for you to break your fast."

"And I hope that you will be dining with us, this morning." Lovisa put her arm through Ahsoka's, linking at the elbow, as they paced to leave her chambers.

"Now why would I do a foolish thing, like that?" Ahsoka laughed, softly.

"Because I am asking you to, and it will be my way to break the news to my parents, that I will be in need of a new handmaiden, for you will be going to the temple."

" Wait, Visa, what?" Ahsoka stopped her, as they entered the hall.

"I spoke with Master Kenobi, and he had said that he would speak to the council, about allowing you to train, I am hoping there will be news, soon."

"Your Grace, Snips." Colo called, as he was being dragged down the hall, by three excited puppies, on their leashes.

"Colo." Lovisa, and Ahsoka both bowed their heads, as they relieved the Royal Guard. "What are you doing with Artoo."

"Well, I have been trying to locate Skywalker, but have not had much luck." He grumbled.

"Then I shall have to take him off your hands, and have him returned to his rightful owner." Lovisa smiled, taking Artoo's leash, as well as Threepio's.

"Where did you even find the little mutts?" Colo asked, as he decided to "escort" The two ladies towards the breakfast room.

"In a box." They both answered.

"Ah yes, that makes all the sense." Colo replied, his tone full of sarcasm.

Artoo began barking, loudly, down the hall, and that was when Anakin And Obi-Wan came round the corner.

"Hey, buddy!" The Padawan grinned, as Lovisa let go of the leash, so that the puppy may run to his owner, without dragging her across the sleek floor.

"Your highness." Obi-Wan bowed to Lovisa, side-eying Anakin for the way he had rudely disregarded the Princess.

"Oh- right- Your highness." Anakin stood up, also bowing to her, a crooked grin on his face, as he looked at her knowingly, her own cheeks beginning to blush, at his attention.

"There is no need for that, every time." She sighed. "May I ask what the both of you were up to, on this morning?"

"Meditating, your Grace, and a little debriefing." Kenobi replied. "Something you will have to join in on soon, Lady Tano." He looked at the handmaiden.

"Have the council replied with word?" Lovisa answered for her friend.

"Yes, they have decided that on a special occasion, and favour to her Royal Highness, the Princess of Naboo, that we shall allow Ahsoka to join the Order, and with Anakin being knighted, in the very near future, he will be the one to train her."

"What?" They both demanded, turning on the man.

"I don't want a Padawan!" Anakin argued.

"I don't want him as a Master!" Ahsoka refused.

"This isn't fair! They can not make me!" They had both said, in sync.

"Oh, but when I didn't want to be queen, I was dramatic." Lovisa said, pointedly. "Colo, shall we give them some privacy, will you escort me to the breakfast room?" She held her hand out for The guard.

"Of course, M'lady." He took her hand with gentleness, and they moved around the three, Obi-Wan attempting to calm down the two fiery teenagers, who were arguing to each other, about one another. "You seem to be in an chipper mood, Princess, an reason for this, may I ask?"

"I am glad to be home, Colo, I find that in my time away, surprisingly, I have grown to miss you not pestering me constantly.”

"Well, then, I am pleased to report that the feeling has been mutual, though, I have missed you, incredibly, Princess, life around the palace has been intensely dull, in your absence." He looked at her, with his usual mischievous smile.

"Vis!"

Lovisa and Colo turned, only half of their bodies, to watch the Jedi, sprint around the corner, to join them.

"Have you seemed to have forgotten your manners, when addressing your grace?" Colo asked him, his jaw clenched, as Anakin attempted to catch his breath.

"Colo, you needn't worry yourself, Anakin and I are friends, and you know I hate it when my friends address me as such." She placed an hand on his arm, letting him know it was okay, whilst applying her own hints.

"My apologies, your highness." Anakin corrected himself, "but I was hoping that I could walk you towards the breakfast table, to make sure that you have arrived unharmed."

"The princess is in more than well capable hands, Skywalker." Colo turned to him, instead of Lovisa.

"Yes, mine, unless you have somehow heard otherwise, she is still technically in my care, and until the threat over her head has completely been dismissed, it will remain that way."

"If you're also in charge of tracking that threat down, then that could be for a very long time, and I doubt anyone will feel relief with that decision. As I hear, it was an old frail man, that had bested you, as well as taken your arm. You are spoken so highly as the "Chosen one" But I am failed to be impressed."

"Colo!" Lovisa hissed.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere, holding doors open." Anakin took a step towards him.

"I am no door holder, I am a royal guard, and you are merely a Padawan."

"And that is all you'll ever be." Anakin was now looking down on him, using the extra inches of height, to valuable use."

"Stop it, the both of you, what is the matter here?" Lovisa demanded, wedging them away from one another.

"Nothing, Princess." Colo shook his head, taking another step back. "I should.. I have duties I need to attend to, my apologies, your Grace." He bowed to her, before marching away.

"Ani, What on earth was that?" She turned on the Jedi, who was staring daggers into the back of the guard.

"Nothing." He blinked, looking away.

"Ani, why do the two of you not seem to get on? You both have the same interest of wanting to keep me safe, I do not get what this rivalry, is."

"We should get to the breakfast room, before people start to wonder where you are." Anakin turned on his heel, walking forward, in the original direction Lovisa was headed.

#anakin fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #anakin x you #star wars anakin #sw anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader smut #obi wan and anakin #ahsoka tano

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aegon-targaryen · 1 year ago

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Zelink Week Day 3 - Letters

read on AO3 | read on FF.net | @zelinkcommunity

Zelda sat at her desk, her only companions the crackling fire and the scratch of her quill against parchment. Shadows stretched long across the room. When a guard appeared in the doorway, he seemed afraid to breach the quiet.

“Forgive me for troubling you, Lady Queen,” he said, twisting his cap in his hands. “It’s likely nothing.”

She raised her eyebrows expectantly. Someone had once taught her the value of silence.

“We arrested a man at the gates. Seemed like some addled beggar at first—he kept asking to see Princess Zelda, as if you haven’t been queen for years. It seemed like he’d go quietly when we turned him away, but then he pulled a sword out of nowhere and knocked Brynn off his feet.” The guard barked a laugh, then smothered it at her look. “Brynn wasn’t hurt, mind you. And then this fellow dropped his sword and surrendered.”

“This winter has been cruel,” Zelda pointed out. “Perhaps he’s desperate enough to trade his freedom for a warm cell and three meals a day.”

“Perhaps, Lady Queen. Anyway—we weren’t sure if you’d want us to charge him. He’s probably mad as a full moon, but…does the name Link mean anything to you?”

Zelda went hot, then cold, then hot again. Her treacherous heart, persisting in the naivete that had cost her dearly in the past, pounded like a war drum. She wished powerfully that Impa was here to tell her she was being a fool.

Alone, Zelda couldn’t stop herself from striding past the open-mouthed guard and through the door.

The sight of her was a spear through the chest, one Link wouldn’t remove for all the world.

Her hair spilled down her black dress, glowing like spun gold in the sunlight that drifted through the cell’s high window. She had grown much taller than that girl he’d left behind in the summer garden so long ago. Link’s memory had glazed over details like her angular chin, the arch of her brows, her small, delicate nose—but he would recognize those wide blue eyes until he breathed his last. Maybe even after that, if the Goddesses were kind.

They weren’t kind, though. And the Zelda he’d fought beside was long out of reach. This Zelda had been allowed a childhood, and Link was a very small part of it: just a boy without a fairy who warned her father against Ganondorf and spent the following years coming and going from the castle, until he ultimately found himself unable to return.

Now he was finally home, and he’d always told himself that would be enough. Seeing her again would be enough, even if she had forgotten him.

The door swung open with a gust of magic that smelled like spring. Zelda stepped inside the cell, her hand glowing at her side, and said, “Link.”

His knees went weak. His back hit the cold stone wall, and he stayed there, pressing a hand to his mouth, because surely moving or speaking would shatter this dream apart.

“Your eye,” she murmured, reaching towards the bandage.

Link flinched on sheer instinct. She jerked her hand away though burned, taking a slow, shocked step backwards, until he burst out, “Zelda.”

She crashed into him, sending them both tumbling to the floor. She was warm and alive and real in his arms, holding him so hard it hurt—the sweetest pain he’d ever felt. He could have died there, quite happily; better that than waking up on foreign soil to realize this was one more cosmic joke.

Link had no notion of how much time passed before Zelda pulled back and said in a hushed whisper, “I dreamed of you.”

“I dreamed of you too,” he murmured. “And…of him.”

Her expression hardened in a way that surprised him, making her look more like Sheik than the gangly fourteen-year-old he’d left behind. “He’s dead,” she replied neutrally.

The other Zelda had stood over her Ganondorf’s crumpled body and called him pitiful. Link had wept when he’d dealt the killing blow. But that day felt so far away, and now all he could muster was relief that it wouldn’t happen again.

“We intended to keep him alive, mostly to maintain peace with the Gerudo,” Zelda continued. “He wasn’t the man you fought, not without the Triforce of Power, and after years in prison…I didn’t see it coming. But he was strong enough to escape one night and assassinate my father.”

“No,” Link gasped, a hot knife of pain sliding through him. I should have been here. This was exactly what he’d wanted to save her from. “I’m so sorry, Zelda.”

She shrugged—shrugged, as if it was nothing—and said, “We subdued him and sent him to the old desert prison to be executed. It was years ago.”

Years? That meant she and the other castle folk were dressed in mourning black for a more recent tragedy. Link had a hundred questions and a thousand apologies; he didn’t know where to start.

“Does your eye need medical attention?” Zelda wondered.

He shook his head. The remains of his eye were hideous, but mostly healed. Though he’d done his best to adjust to a world half in shadow, he certainly couldn’t fight like he once had—for that reason, as well as many others.

That was all well and good until Zelda levelled him with a stubborn stare, and Link—still unconvinced that this was real life—knew he would deny her nothing. “Okay,” he relented.

She smiled tentatively. Much about her had changed: the tall elegance, the air of authority, and something else he couldn’t identify, something not entirely attached to the simple passage of time. But that smile and the way it crinkled up her eyes still matched the memories that had sustained him for so long.

Zelda pulled him to his feet, dusting off her dark skirts. “Why did you get yourself arrested?” she asked with a meaningful glance at the guards on duty, who tried to pretend like they hadn’t been gawking at the scene. “If you had left your name at the gate, I would have seen you right away.”

Link followed her up the stairs, concentrating on placing one foot after the other until he could answer calmly, “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she demanded, halting in her tracks to look back at him with an unfathomable expression.

“I just—I don’t know how long it’s been.”

Zelda resumed the climb as abruptly as she’d stopped, not facing him again until she pushed open the courtyard door. There, in the full sunlight of late afternoon, they studied each other. The realization that he couldn’t read her anymore came with a sudden, breathtaking swell of loss. Could she read him? Did he want her to?

“It’s been over six years,” she said finally.

Link shuddered, trying to make sense of how the time had played out. It was winter now, which made them both twenty—older than he’d been even after waking in the Temple of Time to a kingdom ravaged by Ganondorf.

“You didn’t know my father was dead,” Zelda observed. “You’ve heard no news from Hyrule, all this time?”

He shook his head.

“I see,” came her cryptic response as she turned away to convey a series of requests to a befuddled attendant. Then she led him through the winding castle corridors to her chambers—not the small plush bedroom Link remembered, but the monarch’s full suite, bigger than most peasants’ entire homes.

He had not seen luxury in a long time, and he felt filthy and incongruous in this lacquered study with its fine silk curtains. At the same time, everything screamed so loudly of Zelda—the papers strewn across the desk, the bow hanging on the wall, the flowers in the windowsill—that Link would have recognized her touch anywhere, even if she hadn’t been watching him wordlessly a few feet away.

A grandfather clock ticked in the corner. He swallowed at the sound.

Before either of them found anything to say, a guard delivered Link’s confiscated belongings, and the healer arrived seconds later. To his immense relief, Zelda stepped into her bedroom while the healer poked and prodded at his eye, leaving him with a tin of cream and a dark patch he stared at for a long time before tying another bandage around his head instead.

Zelda returned when dinner arrived, and finally they were alone, sitting on the floor around the low fireside table, as they had when they were children. Link struggled to stay polite in the company of juicy roast Cuccoo and lavish potatoes and those hearty marketplace rolls dotted with rich seeds, but it all tasted so much like home that he found himself wolfing it down. He was halfway done when he noticed Zelda picking listlessly at her own food.

The clock counted down and down, reminding Link that he was the one who had left, the one who owed her answers. Taking a deep breath, he said, “You’re angry with me.”

“I know you,” she replied woodenly. “And I know you were away because you had to be. So I have no reason to be angry.”

“But you are, and I don’t blame you.”

Zelda pulled her knees up to her chest, leaning against the leg of an armchair. Her black dress slid up to reveal her bare feet, making her look far younger than the queen who had ordered her attendants around with such confidence.

“Did you find Navi?” she asked.

“No.”

Her face fell even further. “I understood why you left. There was a grief in you that I was too young to grasp. It was why you had nightmares. Especially the last time you were here.”

The last time had been after Termina. Link tried to keep his gaze off the ticking grandfather clock. He had never told her of those three days with all their cyclic horrors, of how close he had gotten to letting the moon fall just so he could sleep—between that and the Lost Woods, he’d barely gotten home.

I should have learned my lesson, Link thought with fierce bitterness. I should have stayed. All he knew, after years of searching, was that Navi had gone where he couldn’t follow. Zelda was right here, and she’d needed him while he’d been stumbling from one land to the next, lost in every way possible.

“I understood,” she repeated. “But—six years, Link, and not one letter?”

The wariness in her voice broke his heart. Once, she had trusted his every move. Once, as a disguised Sheikah and a boy hero, they had operated like two halves of the same being. But that Zelda had sent Link away, so he’d abandoned this one before she could do the same.

“I wrote you letters all the time,” he said slowly. “I just had no way to send them. I was…in places where no one had even heard of Hyrule.”

“That far?” She tilted her head in confusion—then her eyes widened. “The Lost Woods sent you away?”

The grandfather clock chimed, and even though it sounded nothing like the one in Termina, it struck Link louder than thunder. He resisted the urge to cover his ears, but maybe Zelda could read him after all, because something made her rise and freeze the clock into stillness with one wave of her glowing hand. Then she knelt before Link, her skirts pooling around her like spilled ink, and waited.

“I wanted to come home,” he told her in the silence that followed. “The whole time, I was trying to come home. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that it took so long.”

“I believe you,” Zelda said. “And if it wasn’t by choice, then of course I forgive you, too.”

Link wasn’t sure he deserved that, but relief swamped him all the same. Her hands were curled in her lap, pale against the black silk, and he covered them with one of his own. “Thank you,” he breathed.

Zelda hesitated before taking the scarred ruin of his hand between her palms: the smallest movement in the world, yet it triggered a titanic shift inside Link. A—settling, of sorts. A realization that he wanted to stay.

A knock on the door made her frown. Releasing his hand, she went to open it, asking the newcomer a quiet question.

“Quiet as a lamb, Lady Queen, as always,” chuckled an old woman in reply.

Zelda thanked her, closed the door, and turned back to Link with a baby in her arms.

The room fell silent again. Twisting confusion froze him on the spot. She was just as motionless, watching him over the baby’s head of golden curls. Link had a feeling he knew why the court was dressed in mourning colors, and it took him a long moment to swallow down the cruelty of this world he kept saving, the world that had robbed them of each other.

“What’s her name?” Link asked quietly.

“You know it well.”

“Zelda,” he murmured, for no reason but to say it aloud.

“Yes. I needed allies to secure the throne after my father died. Marriage was the obvious choice. He was a good enough man, but his heart wasn’t healthy—it failed him last month.”

“I’m sorry.” Link could think of nothing else to say. He’d wanted so badly for her to have choices, this time around, but already they’d dwindled away.

She only shrugged. “We were only married a year. We had her, and we loved her together.” Shifting the baby in her arms, she added, “But I couldn’t have loved him, Link.”

“Zelda—”

“I couldn’t have.” Her eyes blazed with a surprising ferocity. “What about you?”

“There was someone,” he admitted. “She helped me. And I helped her. And…”

And that was all. She’d been brave enough to remind Link of his own courage; he would always be grateful for that. But neither of them had harbored any illusions for the future. He had lain awake beside her, thinking of Zelda’s eyes and Zelda’s voice and Zelda’s arms around him, thinking: It should have been her.

“And I couldn’t have loved her either,” he finished. There was a weight to the words, a rightness, that brought Zelda back to settle down at his side. Wordlessly, she lowered her daughter into his waiting arms.

The baby burbled sleepily. She was her namesake’s spitting image. Golden hair. Tiny little nose. Blue eyes; Link would recognize them anywhere. That was when he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt: “I’m never leaving Hyrule again.”

Zelda’s laugh wasn’t the girlish giggle he remembered from that day they’d met in the garden, but something softer, more cautious, more precious.

And he meant that promise. There were other people who had offered him sanctuary throughout his long, bloody life—the woman he’d just spoken of, Navi, Tatl, so many others who had kept the light burning when it threatened to gutter out. But with every meeting came a parting, and too many of Link’s partings had been permanent.

But not this one. Not ever. Some roots went deeper than any force could unearth, and some flowers bloomed despite the bitter cold. It wasn’t too late: not for Link, and not for Zelda. He could feel that in the way she watched him hold her daughter, a quiet smile gracing her lips.

“Will you tell me more about what I missed?” he asked.

“Yes,” she promised. “And I’d like to hear about your travels, in return.”

Link nodded, and there, with their shoulders pressed together and the baby sleeping between them, they began to trade stories.

#zelink week 2023 #zelinkcommunity #loz #oot #mm #oot zelink #zelink fanfiction #zelink #loz fanfiction #my writing

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debcroft13 · 1 year ago

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Thursday, Dec 7: Distance

She had always been a loyal Fire nation citizen ,luckily born a high born nobles with uneasy at tie to the royal family.

Her grandfather's crimes against the nation was a well told story by Sozin, but what actually happened that day at the volcano but only the royal family knew of Roku descendent and did keep decided close to control them.

The young granddaughter of Roku felt very fortunate, she had her family wealth of course,she took pride in her education at the finest all girl school on the capitol, but she also took solace in in the fact that it seemed like history was repeating itself with her and the youngest prince Fire Prince Ozai.

They two were thrust together in adulthood in an arrange marriage after a brief introduction royal court by their parents who both stated they be the prefect match. It was a long planned move. Two pawns founds themselves married trying to live up to their title of prefect match.

They were happy eventually after hard work, the two found solace within each other.

The couple were blessed with two children, but something changed over the years something changed between the two.

Ursa sat in her room as her husband grumbled at his desk, she had put her children down to sleep and had hoped to spend time with her husband, but he had barked at her simple kiss of his cheek while he had worked.

Therefore she had sulked away to her chair to read.

Ursa had no idea what had changed in their life, lately Ozai had created a distance between them and she couldn't think to why that had happened. zula had pushed her way too, then again she and her daughter were disconnected on another level.

However figuring out how to reconnect with Azula was for a different day, reconnecting with Ozai her beloved husband that was of the first and foremost of importance.

She titled her head as she held her book to her chest.

“Ozai?” she asked in a gentle tone

He griped the feather he used to write with tighter as he acknowledged her for a moment.

“if you tell me what wrong then maybe I can do something to help you know?”

He laughed in a mocking manner.

“You help me? With what? With getting my father to acknowledge me, to help him understand and accept how I want to help this nation grow and not stagnate? Can you make me his least hated child when you can't even be a good mother to our children.” He questioned mockingly

Ursa sat stunned as gripped her book as her husband shakes his head and returned to his work.

“Why are you saying such cruel words to me? Am I not still your beloved? I have put everything into raising out children into the prefect fire nation citizens.”

She raised from her chair as she placed her book down.

Ursa gripped her hands under her shelves as she tried to hold her emotional state at bay.

“You have been nothing more then a nuisance to me lately Ursa, if you going to to keep disputing my work then make yourself scarce.” He demanded angry

Ursa frowned as she moved to him and placed her hand on his and gripped his hand.

“Look me in my eyes and say that!” she demanded “Say those cruel words to me directly” she demanded strongly

He grinned as he stood up and looked into his wife eyes.

“Your nothing but a thorne in my side, you made Zuko weak with how your birthed him and now how you cuddled him. You can't deal with Azula's brilliance, you could never deal with her from her birth so that has become my role. “ He began coldly “ Your were nothing but a stepping stone for my goals, now I wonder if I even need you around any more.”

the prince watched his wife face dropped, her hurt her pain.

Ursa unable to speak or respond to his cruelty, his, to his confession.

The prince back away from her as her tears slipped from her eyes.

'Does he not love me any more?' she thought in dread

Ursa defeated back away from him and sat down heartbroken and in shock. She had been devoted, everything he had ever wanted for him and it seemed like it wasn't enough, she wasn't needed or wanted.

Ozai scoffed at her as he sat back down uncaring of her pain as he was already planning away his next moves to get the power he craved and desired and damn be her and anyone in his path to get it.

...Must turn this into a full fic

@urzaiweekblog

#ursa #urzai #ozai #urzai week 2023

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ask-healthy-light · 11 months ago

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If not, Light added, unknowingly speaking to Boom in a voice almost as cold and grave as his, which did not sound like their own, they would no longer follow him any further, and he would either have to send the others back home, or leave, so they could clean up the mess he had made; but as soon as Light finished talking, they looked at the others in shock as they put their hooves on their mouth.

When Boom harshly closed his eyes, shook his head, and bowed to them, Light knew that he understood what they had told him, but they felt horrible, since they had hoped to do this without threatening to leave him; but the only relief they felt was not because Boom was listening to them, but instead came from seeing how shocked Nox and Inferno were over what they said, as it was not who they were.

After they briefly pet Courage on his head with a small and weak smile, and thanked him for helping them to calm down, he barked twice before he hopped off their lap, whereafter Light got up in turn; and they tripped over their own hooves and their words as they rushed over to Boom, and immediately apologised to him for exploiting his greatest fear, adding that they did not know why they said it.

As their eyes rapidly started to well up with tears, their voice broke, and Light found that it was becoming increasingly difficult for them to tell Boom what was on their mind, especially since they did not even take the time to breathe; but before they exhausted themselves, trying to hold on to a sliver of hope that Boom understood them, Nox walked over, and gently took their hoof with a smile.

But then, she placed her other paw on Light's head as well, and put them to sleep where they stood, before they could utter a single word through their incomprehensible and distraught stuttering; but instead of calming them down to help them better verbalise their thoughts, Nox closed her eyes, and focused on finding what Light wanted to say, while the others just patiently watched on in silence.

Fortunately, Nox quickly managed to find Light's thoughts a few moments later, and after she opened her eyes again, she said that Light did not want them to walk on such terribly thin ice for as long as it took them to make their way East; and they asked Boom to believe them when they said that the words they spoke were not their own, and even if they were, they would not have spoken these aloud.

Although Boom did not say anything in return, and merely turned around to walk away from the others for a moment, he was given a lot to think about, since Light's two messages were entirely opposite; on the one hoof, he understood their sentiment in their earlier words, no matter how painful it was to admit it, but on the other, the nervous and apologetic message felt more like the Light he knew.

Meanwhile, while Boom was weighing the two options, and realising swiftly thereafter that something might be troubling Light for them to say the more hateful of the two messages, Nox carefully lifted her paw from Light's head, and embraced them, and pulled them close; but instead of a gentle hug to reassure each other, this time, it was to make sure that Light would not be hurt when they woke up.

When the spell Nox cast upon Light wore off, and they opened their eyes again, they continued right where they left off, and started to apologise yet again, until they realised that they could barely move, as Nox was tightly embracing them; but after they wiped away their tears, Light quietly asked Nox and the others what happened, still speaking in a strained voice, when they saw Boom walk over.

In an instant, Light closed their eyes as they turned away from Boom, as they unfairly expected him to berate or fight them over their what they said, but despite Nox shaking her head, Boom would not stop; and Light flinched when Boom placed his hoof on their shoulder, when he pulled them close for an embrace, during which he quietly thanked them for their apology, and apologised to them in turn.

As Nox let go, Boom's embrace grew tighter, yet gentler, when he promised them:

"I know not where your cruel words came from, my friend, but I know that they were not yours…"

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Nox Lunarwing from @nox-lunarwing Boomlord from @thedumbguywithaheart43

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evilstalks · 27 days ago

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though michael has not been in mount massive for too long, this place makes smith's grove look like a joke. at smith's grove, the staff wasn't necessarily cruel. they were tired and lazy and annoyed, but not as blatantly sadistic as they are here. the worst thing that happened to him at smith's grove was the several electroshock therapies in a pathetic, desperate attempt to understand his mind. more importantly, to make him speak. dr. loomis was obsessed with his silence, wanted to hear michael say something, anything. of course, his plans never worked and he overworked himself to the point of dying because of stress. it's how mount massive got their grimy hands on him. smith's grove wanted nothing more to do with michael after loomis died.

his short time here has not been pleasant at all. he knows exactly what they are trying to do. he may seem unaware, but he has heard everything said by other "patients" and the staff. what they are doing here is completely off the books, illegal. they want to break him to turn him into something not so human anymore. put something in him... what that thing is, he's not entirely sure. he has tried to hear more, but they're not as talkative here as they were back in smith's grove. but he knows one thing: they are not happy with how resistant michael is, both physically and mentally. they assumed he'd be easy to break with how dr. loomis documented him. but much to their dismay, he's much more sane than nearly every other patient here. and stronger in every sense of the word. he knows it is tempting to just kill him and get rid of him, but they're hopeful for better results. maybe that's why they bring her in. it is different with a woman, always has been.

she comes into his room, and even if michael wanted to fight back against her, he would not be able to. the two guards nearby have guns and he's heavily sedated, though such sedation should have him completely loopy and unaware. clearly, he's still fine for the most part, since he stands up off his bed without problem. he follows after her like an obedient dog, and it doesn't go unnoticed by the other patients. they whistle and bark and make vile comments about her, something which heavily irritates michael. if he could, he would bash their brains into the wall. he takes note of her keycard and where exactly she places it in her coat, and then steps in, sitting down as he's instructed.

@evilstalks / michael myers : plotted starter !!

remember doctor lindberg , time is of the essence . . . and failure , is simply not an option . the words echoed ⸻ plaguing her psyche . there was no getting out of this . and she wasn't sure if she'd ever get a chance to escape from the waking hell that had become her reality . the top priority had been to break patient myers , no matter the cost . something the others had been attempting to do for quite some time . but to no avail . the company saw him as a candidate with great potential ⸻ if only they had a way to manipulate such a being . and that had been where she came into play . a sheep that would be thrown into the wolf's den , out for slaughter . when they first sent her in to meet with him , there had been no limitations . the company wouldn't guarantee her safety . if anything , they would rather choose to exploit her , if it meant obtaining the results they needed for their experiments . but no harm ended up coming her way , at least not at the hands of myers .

knocking against the fully metal door ⸻ a high pitched clink could be heard vibrating before abruptly d i s s o l v i n g into lower frequencies . a few seconds passed , before unlocking the door and letting it slowly swing open . unlike the others , anastasia would always give the other a chance to breathe before just barging in . it was the least she could do , given the circumstances of everything . ❝ i apologize for the intrusion . though they are requesting for your vitals to be taken . ❞ sleepless orbs found their way to the others . there had been no amount of concealer in the world , that could ever hide the visible bags that had resided underneath her hues . a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips , before motioning the other to follow . her lab would have been a better place to convene instead of them being crammed into his cell . a clipboard was being held firmly against her chest as she navigated through the halls . it hadn't been long before reaching the doors . a key card brushed against the automated lock before stepping through . a sigh itself pulled from her , ❝ i believe you know the drill by now . ❞ her gaze drew to the chair the other would sit in , so she would be allowed to draw blood from him .

#OUTLAST VERSE.#hellconsumed

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rocorambles · 3 years ago

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Know Your Place

Pairing: Naoya x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Misogyny, Abuse, Rape/Non-Con, Humiliation, Degradation, Feet Stepping

Summary: You should have known better than to believe that Toji could protect you from the Zenin forever. Once a Zenin woman, always a Zenin woman and Naoya intends to make sure you fully understand that.

Growing up as a female in the Zenin clan means you’re always expected to serve, to look beautiful. Never speak unless requested to. Never look any of the men in the eyes. Obey. Be submissive and demure.

There are thousands of rules and dozens of leering eyes ready to punish you for a single minor infraction. So as much as you hate the life you’ve been born into, you know better than to act out and bring attention to yourself, knowing full well especially now as an adult woman that the price of transgressions are too high to pay.

You’d be incredibly fortunate for the usual heavy backhands Naobito and Ogi Zenin would grace your face with when you were still a minor, for the cruel condescending words Naoya would sneer at you. Those were child’s play compared to what’s in store for you now and you shudder when you remember the images of fellow female servants who had attempted to escape only to be easily captured, clothes stripped and body laid bare for the entire clan to see. You remember the fear that would make you tremble as the men howled in laughter and jeers as they took turns smacking their victim’s ass, pawing and groping her body. You remember sobbing when you were forced to watch as fists, cocks, objects that you thought were far too large were shoved between flailing legs.

But nothing keeps you in line more than the cold dread you’d feel heavy in your chest when you’d be forced to clean out the room of one of your ex-maids, preparing the room for the next poor soul born into a never ending life of servitude. As much as you hate this life, it’s still better than being tied up and forced to be nothing more than a Zenin sex doll, used by every man in the clan until there’s nothing left but an empty husk of skin.

So you keep your head down, ignoring the cruel words and predatory gazes that follow you. You enjoy the few moments you have in the servant quarters alone with your fellow maids, giggling and whispering to each other, pretending that you’re just normal women. Those friendships you form warm your heart and you take solace in the sympathetic glances and warm brief squeezes of hands when a Zenin man is particularly harsh in their treatment of you.

Maybe that’s why you can’t keep your body still when the woman who shares the same room as you accidentally spills hot tea all over Zenin Toji. And despite how terrified you are of Toji’s hulking figure and blood-stained reputation, you throw your body in between him and your friend, creating a feeble physical shield for her from his wrath.

A part of you is together enough to vaguely acknowledge how strange it is that Toji hasn’t roared a single word yet, hasn’t laid a hand on you. But you’re not foolish enough to think this is over and you throw yourself to the floor in a degrading groveling bow, begging him to forgive your friend, to have mercy on the both of you.

You know exactly who Zenin Toji is and you prepare yourself for the feeling of his infamous sword slicing through your neck. What you aren’t prepared for is the way he lets out a boisterous laugh, green eyes glimmering in amusement when he sees the bewildered look on your face as you tentatively peek up at him.

“You’ve got guts. Tell you what. I’ll forgive you and your clumsy friend if you become my personal maid. Deal?”

It’s a rhetorical question and you stiffly nod your head, tears forming in your eyes as you imagine the rest of your life chained to Toji’s bed, stuck in the lair of a beast.

Except your life isn’t anything like you had imagined and you’re stunned when Toji barks at you to go retire to your own room and get some rest so you’re ready to keep up with tomorrow.

Life is...surprisingly normal. Well as normal as it can be in the household of one of the top Jujutsu sorcerer clans in the world. You scowl at Toji as he teasingly throws a pile of sweat stained clothes and towels on top of your head as he walks out of the bath.

“You’re getting a little stronger, little lady. I almost even felt the punch you threw at me in training today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the slight quirk of your lips and swell of pride at his backhanded compliment.

Toji isn’t anything like the rest of his clan and it goes deeper than just his lack of cursed energy or his supernatural strength. He’s kind. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but you genuinely believe he has a good heart. Not once has he ever spoken maliciously to you. Not once has he ever laid a hand even borderline inappropriate or suggestive on you. And sure, you don’t necessarily enjoy doing his dirty laundry, cleaning his room, and making his bed every day and night, but he makes it easy to forget that you’re just a lowly maid.

He talks to you as if you’re his equal, carefully listening to you, acknowledging your points (even if he mocks you when you do say something silly or that he disagrees with). He invites you to eat meals with him. He trains you deeming you too wimpy to last long without at least some basic defense skills. Your time with Toji is one of the few moments of happiness you know and you greedily indulge.

But unknown to you, your new proximity to the black wolf of the Zenin clan has more than one eye looking at you in interest and above all, Zenin Naoya can’t stop fixating on you.

Naoya has always had a strange mix of respect, disdain, and jealousy towards the older man and he can’t help himself from wanting what Toji has, especially when the both of you look so irritatingly happy chattering away with each other as if you have no cares in the world. How dare a lowly Zenin servant look so carefree. How dare curse-less Toji make a mockery of the rest of the clan by living a shame-free life despite how hard they try to humiliate him for it.

Has Naoya ever been happy? Ever been relaxed?

He can’t remember ever laughing as hard as Toji is now in response to something you’ve said or done. He can’t remember smiling so freely like you are as you playfully slap Toji and try to get him to stop teasing you. A green eyed monster slithers inside of him and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s making his way towards the both of you.

“Aren’t you two as unseemly as usual. I know you don’t care for our clan’s reputation or rules, but really? Parading your slut around so shamelessly? That’s a new low even for you.”

It’s adorable how you scurry away, cowering behind Toji’s broad figure, fear written all over your face. And although Naoya had done this to get under Toji’s skin, he can’t help but wish the older man would storm off and leave you behind in his clutches. He wonders if you’d be this scared and docile underneath him, wonders how tight you’d be while you tremble in fear while he sinks inside of you…

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted as Toji snorts, slinging a muscular arm over your shoulder and dragging you off with him, subtly tucking you safely into his side and away from Naoya’s hungry gaze.

Usually being ignored and dismissed would rile him up more, but as he watches the two of you amble away and sees your innocent and confused face, unsure what had just happened and what’s causing Toji’s strangely touchy behavior, his appetite is whetted and you’re what he’s craving.

What he hadn’t accounted for is how protective Toji is of you. So strange for a man who doesn’t seem to care about anyone except himself. But Naoya supposes that’s just a testament for how good you must be in bed. He can’t think of any other reason why Toji would waste his time and efforts on an insignificant woman like you.

You’re never left alone long enough for him to corner. Just when he sees you by yourself and swoops in to shove you in a spare room, Toji suddenly looms beside you, green eyes sternly pinning Naoya down with a warning. And as much as Naoya would love to rise to the challenge, he knows that he doesn’t stand a chance against Toji, so he slinks away in defeat, again and again.

It only makes him want you more and he grits his teeth as he slams into one of the whores in his bed who vaguely reminded him of you if he squints in just the right way.

He supposes he should be more remorseful as the news of Toji’s death spreads like wildfire through the Zenin household. But all he can see is a light at the end of the tunnel. It takes every last bit of restraint in him not to immediately hunt you down and devour you, but he bides his time. After all the teasing and taunting you’ve put him through just one taste isn’t going to satisfy him anymore.

No, he won’t just ruin you and throw you away after a single night. He plans on dragging this out, using you, tasting you until it fully sinks in that this is all you’re good for, that he owns every part of you inside and out.

His cock twitches at your swollen face covered in salty tear streaks. You look so pathetic, so scared when he takes his time strolling into your room, kicking your roommate out and locking the door behind him. It’s just the two of you and he feels the rush of power thrumming through his veins at how you tremble and cower before him. If only you were naked and not in those dreary mourning clothes…

But he has ample time for that and he wants to enjoy corrupting you, take his time watching your downfall.

“You’re my maid starting now.”

You mutely nod, but make no move and Naoya scoffs.

“I know Toji was soft with you, but let me set expectations straight. I’m nothing like him. Now get moving.”

“But this is my room-”

You yelp in fright as Naoya’s hand grips the front of your shirt and hauls your body until you’re forced to press against his body, feeling his breath against your face as he sneers at you.

“Sluts don’t get the luxury of their own room or bed. Toji spoiled you. Now move your stuff to my quarters. The only place you’ll be sleeping from now on is my floor or my bed. Understood?”

It’s a rhetorical question and all you can do is crumple to the ground when he lets go, staring unseeingly at Naoya’s retreating back as he exits your room, the weight of your new reality crashing down on you.

Sleeping on the floor is humiliating and uncomfortable. Naoya makes it a point to “accidentally” step on you when he gets on and off the bed, rudely nudging you awake with his feet, resting his soles on your face until you’re flailing around to breathe. But it isn’t as bad as wondering when the worst is to come.

At least you’re clothed. At least your innocence is still intact. So as much as you feel like nothing more than a dog, you take it. After all, your new life isn’t so different from your life before Toji aside from your new sleeping arrangements and the headache of being in close proximity to Zenin Naoya.

It’s entertaining enough in the beginning, watching you curl up on the floor like an obedient puppy, admiring how you never talk or lash out when he literally walks all over you. He even buys you a pretty new collar with his name engraved on it linked to a leash he holds in his hand or leaves tied to his bed.

But unlike a real pet you never warm up to him, always looking at him warily, body tense and nervous in his presence. Not once do you look at him with even the slightest hint of affection or fondness you used to stare at Toji with. He supposes that can’t be helped and he doesn’t care for anything disgusting like your love. But you don’t even seem remotely attracted to him as a man and that’s something his ego won’t allow for.

He knows women can’t stand his attitude. But he also knows that at their base, all women are sluts easily swayed by his good looks. He can’t even count the number of women who’ve insulted him to his face only to end up in his bed, moaning and screaming his name and their love for his cock.

You were supposed to be no different. But your continued disinterest in him infuriates him to the point where petty humiliation isn’t enough to sate his hurt pride.

“Strip and get in bed.”

You’re frozen stiff and he sneers at you while you’re on the verge of terrified tears.

“What? I’m not good enough for you? Don’t act like you aren’t used to this. I’m sure your old master had you warming his bed all the time-”

“Toji would never!”

Even he’s stunned by the weight of his backhand hit as it makes contact with your face, by the venom in his voice as he spits out his next words.

“Don’t you ever say that name in my presence again.”

He takes a few seconds to calm his breath, the crimson of the blood trickling from your nose grounding him as he finds his center once more. But then a thought crosses his mind as that red river finds its way to your lips.

“As punishment, let’s make sure you know what your mouth’s purpose is from now on. Words are wasted on a dumb whore like you anyway. Kneel and open wide.”

It’s oddly arousing watching your tears and blood stream down your face as you choke on his cock. Your efforts are half-hearted at best, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the instinctual way your throat flutters around him as he roughly thrusts his hips into your tight mouth suffices. He can see why Toji kept you around and he groans as his hand slips behind your head and pushes you until your face is squished against his abdomen.

Your mouth feels amazing and your muffled screams for air only add to the vibrations around his shaft. It’s enough to have him spilling down your throat and he keeps you tightly pressed against him, forcing you to drink every last drop he gifts you with. And only when your throat finally stops its forced swallowing does he release you, leering down at your pitiful form heaving for breath.

The bitter taste of his seed is all you can taste, all you can focus on as you greedily inhale much needed oxygen. You pray that he’s done, but you whimper when a strong hand easily pulls you up and begins to pull off your clothing. Instinctively you try to push the invasive appendages away from you, but you freeze at Naoya’s growled threat.

“Don’t make me hurt you any more than I have to.”

You know it’s not an empty threat. You’ve seen the quite literally broken bodies of women who had resisted too much against the Zenin men, against Naoya specifically. So you limply drop your arms to your side and stay still as he humiliatingly gropes and examines you like merchandise.

All you can do is clench your eyes shut as Naoya’s hands grab your breasts, kneading and weighing them in his hands, cruelly prodding and pinching your nipples to see your reactions. All you can do is bite back a muffled yelp when he forces you onto your knees and forearms on the bed, squeezing and smacking your ass, spreading apart your cheeks to closely look at your fluttering holes. All you can do is cry into the sheets as he fingers you open, breaching both untouched openings, his thick digits stretching your tight walls apart and taking their time to thoroughly defile you, using your own slick to loosen your ass.

You try to disassociate, try to imagine that this is just a medical examination. But your fantasies are shattered when something hard and thick slaps against your inner thigh as Naoya rearranges himself behind you, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against your dripping entrance, coating his shaft with your juices.

“Naoya! Sir, please. I’ve never...You can’t-”

Your pleas are cut short as his hand painfully strikes your ass.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re ruining the mood with your sniveling voice. Remember what I taught you? Sluts don’t get to speak freely. They only get to moan and thank their masters.”

You don’t even know if you can speak even if you wanted to, not when his cock is forced into you in one go, the thick and lengthy shaft ruthlessly tearing you apart. It fills you, stuffing you full, and you don’t think there’s even room left in your body for words. The only thing you can release is a strangled scream, eyes and mouth blown wide open, fingers clawing at the sheets as you try to remotely ground yourself as the foreign sensation overwhelms you.

But Naoya has never been a patient man and there’s a certain sense of entertainment from watching you struggle and writhe underneath him. He begins a relentless pace before you can adjust to the feeling of him inside of you, hips slamming in and out of you, heavy balls bouncing against you.

You’re so tight, so hot, so wet and he can feel a rush of power from the confusion he begins to see setting on your face as forced pleasure begins to mix in with your fear and pain. Moans and high-pitched keens are finding their way in between distressed cries and he smirks at the way your eyes begin to roll back in your head, the way your hips begin to meet him halfway, greedily pushing back against him when he teasingly slows down his pace.

He laughs at the humiliation and embarrassment running rampant on your face when you whine as he abruptly stops

“Wow you really are a slut. You fucking love my cock, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes as you adamantly shake your head in denial, bored by your playing hard to get act. But as he admires the way your pussy lips obscenely envelop his cock, your pretty puckered hole beckons to him.

“You’re fucking filthy, clamping down on me like a bitch in heat from just a thumb in your ass. You like that? Like having all your holes filled? Maybe when I break you in, I’ll share you with the rest of the clan. Bet you’d love that. Love having cocks in every hole, using every inch of you.”

Your orgasm takes the both of you by surprise in its speed and intensity and Naoya howls in laughter as he resumes fucking you, chasing his own high with his thumb still lodged in your ass, groaning in pleasure at how he can feel the tremors of your orgasm, the way your body convulses in the aftershocks of pleasure and onset of overstimulation.

You’re breathtaking like this, fucked silly, delirious, just a warm body and toy for him to do with as he pleases and it doesn’t take long for him to join you over the edge and add to the sticky mess already inside of you.

With a lewd pop he retracts his thumb from your now lewdly fluttering hole, shoving it into your mouth for you to clean and he smiles at how mindlessly obedient you are as you suck and lick the digit clean like it's your favorite lollipop.

You grimace when he finally pulls out, already feeling his cum beginning to leak out of you and you try and find the strength in your trembling and used body to push yourself off the bed. It’s time to retreat with your tail between your legs and you want nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening in the shower, harshly scrubbing every evidence of your utter defeat and conquest under boiling hot water.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You open your mouth to speak, only to quickly clamp it back shut, remembering how your words only seemed to dig you deeper and deeper into trouble.

“You’re going to wash me and yourself and once we’re clean, you’re going to remain naked and in my bed until I’m ready to use you again. Think of it as a promotion. No more worrying your stupid little head about cleaning and laundry anymore. You’re being upgraded to my personal sex slave and bed warmer. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You wonder if this is what it feels like to walk the plank, to approach your own death sentence as you robotically trail after Naoya’s figure towards his lavish bathroom. And as you lay in his bed that night, pristine and bare like a glorified sex doll, his broad arm possessively slung around your waist and forcing your bodies to mold together, you bid farewell to your past life, dreading what the future has in store for you.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #naoya x reader #naoya smut #yandere naoya #tw: noncon #tw: abuse

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago

Text

Crackin’ the Code

prompt: Harry and YN tie the knot in a beautiful castle off the coat of Italy. Harry reflects back on his life before his love. YN has past insecurities creep on on her before the wedding.

note: this is the necklace that YN receives as (one) her wedding gifts from H and she wears it during the ceremony.

word count: 9k

warnings: smut

***<-- click for visuals throughout (super important for this one shot!)

if you enjoy this fic (which i worked REALLY hard on) please reblog, like, comment, and come talk to me!

please please considering donating to my kofi since all my work is FREE to you guys!

---

The world expected an extravagant wedding with week-long festivities, celebrations in destinations only the richest could afford, and all the big names of the business world who ran in his circle.

The media outlets were just waiting, quite impatiently, for the day that the richest man in Europe settled down with a significant other. They would have news stories for decades when it came to the couple.

Of course, Harry Styles was going to marry a household name - the public thought.

Whether it be an heiress, a model, maybe even an actress? The choices for the most eligible bachelor were limitless.

Any time he was at an event, usually a charity gala or black-tie dinner, paparazzi would take candid pictures of him with any female and then the following day publish an article about how they were a couple.

However, what the world didn’t know was that he’s been in a relationship for a year and a half, has already been engaged after the eight month mark, and moved into pretty soon after but that was hushed.

Nearly no one except a few key employees and family members knew about the couple. Everyone in his office building in the heart of London had to sign NDA’s at the beginning of their job - though almost all of them didn’t know she existed.

Harry did not put any limits on YN for the wedding planning.

No price, no expectations, nothing. If she wanted ten-thousand people or zero people in attendance that was her call. If she wanted to drop ten million dollars on a wedding or a hundred that was fine too.

The CEO never fantasized about a wedding.

Well he had but no in the terms most do. He didn’t sit and imagine the venue, the food menu, or the decorations.

No, he didn’t care about any of that, he daydreamed about the fact that he and someone would commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Harry wanted to marry his fiance after their first date.

He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.

Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.

He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.

Don’t get him wrong.

He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.

One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.

---

It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour.

The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date.

A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’

Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area.

She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.

“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures.

When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.

Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment.

She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.

Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”

She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”

He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly.

What a goddamn waste of a night.

Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being.

Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.

“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.

He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”

“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives.

Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.

When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.

It doesn’t happen often.

He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.

He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.

A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day.

They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red.

When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.

He was so fucked up.

Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.

YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting.

She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.

She was just...everything.

YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way.

Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.

She was confident in a way that girls rarely were.

Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models.

Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.

Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.

She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow.

The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.

Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much.

As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.

Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous.

Maybe back in his teenage years? If that.

It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***

YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.

He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.

When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.

Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***

YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.

She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***

When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”

His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”

She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”

Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”

YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”

YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).

The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London.

There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on.

YN had never felt more out of place.

As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”

The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”

As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”

Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”

Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”

“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.

YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner.

It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.

“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”

Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar.

For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant.

However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.

It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them.

The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.

“I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date.

YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?

She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”

Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him.

He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.

“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.

He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.

It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”

With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so.

God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.

When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”

Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.

Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.

After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***

“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.

“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight.

Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.

Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”

She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.

It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.

As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.

She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”

Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”

“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones.

He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.

They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.

After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.

YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”

“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”

“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.

“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.

“That’s a relief.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”

“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.

Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.

It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **

There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.

Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.

They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition.

Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.

He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”

YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”

“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.

“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.

“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”

“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.

They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”

“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.

It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.

Life didn’t even seem real at this moment.

She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***

She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after.

When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.

After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.

Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.

YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”

She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”

“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.

“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.

“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”

YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.

“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.

“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.

Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”

YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”

It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.

“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”

“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.

“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.

“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.

Hair and makeup went fast.

It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.

Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.

YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.

Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.

Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?

It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.

It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.

It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.

What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***

The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.

“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.

YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving.

It started to feel real.

The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.

It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.

Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.

Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.

YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.

She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.

“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.

“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.

“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.

YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“

Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”

The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.

—

Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.

YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding.

What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.

She knew exactly where Harry would be standing.

Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about.

The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design.

YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***

The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.

“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.

YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family.

When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.

Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle.

It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.

Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony.

Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.

YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***

Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.

He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.

It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***.

YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.

All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.

The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.

Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.

Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.

YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.

In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.

“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.

Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”

Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.

When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm.

Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.

“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.

When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.

“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.

“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”

YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”

“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.

His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.

A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.

YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off.

The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.

“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.

“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.

“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”

“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”

“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”

“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.

“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”

The guests in the chairs are quite speechless.

They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple.

This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.

“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.

YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”

“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.

Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”

The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.

He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”

As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.

“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.

“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.

When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.

“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.

“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.

“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.

It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.

The reception is more of a dinner than a party.

Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***

It was perfect.

Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry.

Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle.

There is not much more to say than that.

The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.

YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***

“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.

“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.

The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***

“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”

“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough.

She needs him close, she needs her husband.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.

Harry had always imagined this night.

To have someone laid out underneath him.

No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.

He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.

When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.

“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.

“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.

“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.

“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.

“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”

Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”

His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”

He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.

Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”

“I did.”

It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek.

After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay.

She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.

“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”

“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”

He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers.

She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”

“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.

“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”

“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”

Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”

YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.

Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.

“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.

“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”

And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.

She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them.

On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would.

Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.

“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.

It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.

“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.

“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.

Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.

A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.

if you’ve ask to be on my taglist and you’re not here - please check your settings because i’ve tried to add you and it didn’t work.

taglist babies (thank you): @dioc4ne @hazgoldenstyles @harrysdimple05 @wonwooen @ficnarry @leeroysdancer @harrysloveheart @harryscherrysugar @pradastardust @rish-haz @wildcstdrexms @evanstylestan @wisetoadbonkbiscuit @meredithhuntt @tpwkvictoria @lovely-him @haymix @eiffelmezarry @pilgrim-harry @soullessbabee @afterglowstyles @tulsasjesus @elenagilbert01 @meh–mood @pretty-pop-princess-hs @msolbesg @localfalsegodstan @evanjh @i-just-like-fanfics @harrys-hs-gf @lightsupdoyouknowwhoyouare @afterglcwswift @harrystyles-tpwk @amyvandijk @godilovetheenglishx @harrys-cherrry @theprofessionalfanby @your–sweetest–downfall @la-cey @bdbtchdir @killerqueencapstan @elizabeth23567 @camflowervol6 @its-a-finee-line @rish-haz @solonelytobe @nav1234 @harrynamjoon @hopefullimaginer123 @westallenhes @awesomebooklover17 @will-be-a-fineline @vasilikir5 @your–sweetest–downfall @pretty-pop-princess-hs @harrynamjoon @harrypinks @ivyirenehoax @harryspink @sunsetcurve-h @goldenstylesh @mouthfulloftoothpastehs @hello-34583 @prettylovley @nicolecarsley @lamariettes @imavirginhoe @unknown7549 @mellamolayla @kiwitsayedsugar @hopefullimaginer123 @harrysmatcha @weaslettesstuff @saintsmotels @hi-yekaterina @aubreyfineline @harrysgoldenbum @ebstylesx @goldeng1rl8 @tnqueen @percysaidnever @bebecalpal

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whitestaghere · 3 years ago

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Not your fault - Levi x reader

Just felt like it had been a while and came up with this. Hope ya'll enjoy reading!❤️

Warnings: none really. Mentions of death. Angst and a dash of fluff at the end.

Saying I was scared was an understatement. No, I was shook to the very brink of my existence. I hadn't expected it to be so nerve wracking as it was, now that I had finally joined the scout regiment.

I had expected this of course.

Who wouldn't? Specially when they were proned to fighting naked humans as tall as trees running at you like they were on their morning caffeine rush.

What was even worse was when the stoic captain of the special operations squad decides to pick you to be part of his squad. "I appreciate your skills," he said.

Well I guess there wasn't really much to fuss about that apart from the new mission we were setting up for and our very special rivalry.

Today, everything had gone smooth until that female titan had decided to come waltzing in.

She had managed to wipe out all of Levi squad and I felt my blood boil. My mind was in a blur, filled with thoughts of nothing but blood lust. Just from her.

Eren's screams played at the back of my mind and even as I caught sight of him shooting towards where I was, I couldn't find it in me to stop him.

As cruel as it sounded- I wanted her to feel the pain as I did.

I glanced down at Petra's body. The eyes that always greeted me with brightness were now looking at me blankly. Tasting the saltiness from the tears that streamed down my face unbeknownst to me- my cool demeanor finally broke. Snapping out of my trance I pushed myself off the branch I stood upon.

Shooting my hooks into the skin of the female titans shoulder, I zipped through the air screaming in anguish. I swung my blades over my head, aiming for the hand that covered her nape. If I could just cut through her wrist-

Just as planned, my blades sunk into the flesh of her wrist. Deep, but not deep enough.

If only I hadn't been distracted and just pushed away right then..

Her large hand came in contact with my body, swatting me off like as if I were some insect. Which in her case, I probably looked it. With a pained yelp, I was being thrown through the air.

"Y/N!" Eren.

My eyes shot open just when a bolt of lightning struck through the air. Ah.

I realised what was happening.

I tried to aim my grappling hooks at one of the trees before I probably fell to my death or by the slightest chances, fell straight into a titans mouth. But everything was in a blur and with the way the titan hit me, I couldn't quite direct my focus onto one thing. And before you know it, I had already inched closer to the ground, crashing straight into a tree. I doubled forward and my body slid down against the rough surface.

Cursing inwardly, I glanced down at my body; my lower half, sprawled out on the ground as I slumped against the tree.

I wanted to move, to assist Eren - but my body refused to respond. I couldn't budge and for a moment, I hoped I had died through impact because the thoughts that ran through my head were killing me.

My body felt limp almost like as if I was paralysed. I fought to keep my eyes open. The ground beneath me shook and my ears were filled with the sound of Eren's titan screaming. And with that, black filled my vision.

>>present<<

My body shot up at once and I winced at the sudden pain that shot through my body.

"You're awake."

That voice.

I snapped my head to my right and I was greeted by those steel eyes that belonged to none other than the captain. I had this urge to shrink and disappear out of existence under his icy gaze and-

Wait.

I was alive? Or no wait. Good Gods, please don't tell me he died too!

Without thinking, my hand shot out to grab his arm that was crossed over his chest. This took him by surprise and his eyes shifted between me and my hand with a hint of annoyance laced in his features. His body had tensed under my hold and I immediately pulled away with a gasp.

"I-I'm sorry sir. I just-"

"I found you not too far from the rest of the squad," he cut me off. My head lowered at the mention of the others. "I didn't think you were alive considering the amount of blood you lost. But that's when you coughed, splattering all your substances at me and well- you know the rest."

I didn't know what to say. Even if I did, I didn't have it in me to speak or make a snarky remark like I usually did. The thought of my fallen comrades made me sick to the stomach. But I couldn't cry either.

No. Just not with him here.

You remember how I said we had a special rivalry going on between us? Yeah.

Ever since Levi had asked me to join his squad- we'd always been at eachother's throats. Which I didn't quite expect considering how he picked me.

He'd say something sarcastic, I'd snap back at him and vice versa. It eventually came to the point that commander Erwin had to walk in one time, suggesting Levi that it would be best if I were switched to Mike's squad. But Levi had simply walked out of the room.

Just like that, Erwin asked me to make the choice and I said no. Why you ask?

I wanted Levi to accept me.

I couldn't even remember what started this rivalry to begin with and it was eating at me constantly. I had never seen him snap at people as easily as he did with me. Well he did occasionally, but this was on a daily basis and it made no sense at all.

Hanji said it was just his nature and that I'd understand him later. I realised that was she said was just ridiculous because this man, he didn't even dare to show me a little bit of respect. So I decided I'd leave him be and put up a mask whenever he'd target me but that's when things got worse. He always found reasons to argue with me and I caught up with it too.

Breaking down in front of him wasn't an option now.

Levi's chair scraped against the floor signalling that he was probably leaving.

"Thank you," I said quickly, making him stop in his tracks. I'd never said that to him before. But since he saved me, it was only right that I did.

His head turned around halfway and he eyed me narrowly. "For saving me," I finished. He clicked his tongue in response and left the room, shutting the door a little louder than I expected.

Cue the breakdown.

I flopped myself back on the bed. Grabbing the pillow that supported my head, I hugged it tightly as I screamed into it.

The tears didn't stop.

I couldn't save my comrades. Why did the captain even decide to pick me in the first place if I couldn't save my own comrades?

It was getting harder to breathe with my face stuffed in the pillow and the choked up tears didn't make it any easier. I felt so pathetic. But no matter how much I tried, it wouldn't stop. The guilt and hatred just kept coming back to me.

It felt like I had been crying for hours already as my body spasmed, signalling the next fresh batch of tears approaching.

The sound of the door opening and closing again made my body freeze.

I peeped up from my pillow and regretted it instantly seeing the captain standing at the foot of my bed, holding two cups in his hands. His eyes locked with mine again.

Maybe it was me just seeing things but his eyes widened and very slowly, he made his way upto the side of my bed.

"I brought you some tea," he said stoically. "Drink it before it gets cold."

I subtly wiped my eyes against the pillow and sat myself up on the bed like as if I hadn't been crying my eyes out just a few moments ago.

Avoiding eye contact, I thanked him silently and took the cup from his hand. Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could feel his gaze lingering on my face. Feeling too self conscious, I brought the cup up to my mouth only to wince as I burned my tongue. A weird sound came from me and I slapped my hand over my mouth.

"Tch. Be careful idiot. I didn't ask you to drink it that fast," Levi scolded. I face palmed inwardly, brushing it off with a sheepish grin. He cocked a brow and shifted his gaze outside the window.

Silence.

I didn't mind the silence, but with him sitting right there, it felt like my nerves were dancing. If that was even possible.

Eyeing him subtly, I noticed how his gaze seemed distant, longing. And that's when I realised. I was being selfish.

I wasn't the only one who had lost my comrades.

"C-captain-"

"Levi."

I tilted my head in confusion and nodded right after catching what he had meant. "Levi. I-I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For everything."

"Be specific." I gulped. So he wanted a full on confession. Here it goes.

"Well for being.. for being a brat." He raised his brows and turned to look at me. I shifted my gaze to the floor at once, finding it easier to speak calmly that way.

"That wasn't a joke, I promise. I was being selfish. I didn't know how much pressure I might have been putting on you by always being snarky and uncooperative. And now too.. I was considering my own feelings without thinking about how you felt. I just- didn't understand why you hate me so much."

"I don't hate you," he said abruptly. I looked at him slowly but reluctantly.

"I-" he ran a hand through his hair, releasing a frustrated sigh. "I don't hate you. I was just worried."

"Worried?" I asked.

"Worried you'd end up like this. Or by the least, end up dead."

Ouch.

"You doubted my skills.. yet you picked me to be a part of your squad. I don't get it," I mumbled.

"Idiot. It's not like that," he barked. "I recall saying I respected your skills. I really do. It's just that you can be reckless at times."

I gasped in disbelief.

"Reckless?"

"Yes. Reckless."

"How could you-" he raised a brow and eyed my position on the bed. I followed his gaze and it dawned on me. Half of my body was wrapped in bandages and my arm was in a cast.

Yeah. Reckless.

"I had no doubt in your skills, keep that in mind brat. I picked you for my squad because I knew you'd be a good addition to it and-" He paused, looking like as if he were in thought before continuing.

"It was easier to keep an eye on you this way."

I shut my eyes tightly, guilt flooding through my veins little by little.

"But I failed." My eyes shot open hearing this.

"I failed you and I failed my squad."

"Levi-"

"No y/n. There's no denying it," he said. I noticed how his voice was beginning to shake and that just made my heart ache. I had never seen him this way. "I told you that I added you to keep an eye on you and look at you now. Even worse, I failed to protect the rest of my squad."

"Levi," I said softly. "You know, if I ever end up dying out there- I'd never blame you. I'd never say you failed to protect me. But what I would want you to do, is to give our sacrifices meaning. We devoted our lives. We chose to go down this path knowing the circumstances. Knowing that someday there could be a chance we wouldn't come back home. So just know, this is not your fault and they don't blame you either. Even if it is, we must make their sacrifices worth something."

Levi stared intently at me but this time, I didn't feel like shrinking away. I wanted the man in front of me to have reason to fight, to know he wasn't to blame. And that all of this- we were facing all of this together.

He didn't say a word. I didn't expect him to either and I didn't mind it.

His gaze was everywhere and for a second when his eyes met mine, I couldn't help my urge and slowly yet hesitantly- reached out for him.

"May I?" I asked.

He tilted his head, confused by what I was asking permission for. I opened my arms slightly for him and after a short while, he shockingly leaned in slowly (not before shifting awkwardly in his seat though). Wrapping one arm around his shoulders and one hand on his nape, I pulled him into my embrace gently.

I felt his fingers trace over my clothes slightly like as if he were contemplating what to do. After a few seconds, his body completely relaxed in my arms and I felt his hands slowly snake around my waist.

"It's okay Levi," I whispered and rubbed his back in attempt to comfort him. He tucked his head into the crook of my neck. That made a soft smile crawl up my face.

This man was a fighter but he was also human. A human with feelings no matter how stoic he could be. Hanji was right.

>>Third person's pov<<

It was at that moment, that a new friendship began to blossom between the two. A spark of hope and a reason to fight in their dark world.

Okay phew.

That came out a lot more angsty than I thought it would be haha. But I hope you all enjoyed reading it and have a wonderful day/night!❤️

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi x reader #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hanji zoe #eren jaeger #petra ral #aot imagines #levi x reader imagine #levi x reader fluff #levi x y/n #levi x you #aot x y/n #levi x male reader #levi needs a hug #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman x you

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aftermoved · 10 months ago

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DARK BROW RAISES AS PASHA glares at him, a cruel smirk only for her creeping onto his face. he WOULD win this fight between them, that he was sure of — in one way or another. whether she liked it, or not. that was just how he played.

his hands don't move the entire time from behind his back, but his fingers fidget with the sense of urgency, thumb twisting a ring on his pointer finger around and around. on the outside, the vampire RADIATES peace, but a trained eye could see how on EDGE he was. ready at ANY SECOND for something to happen, anything, relishing in the thought of it.

❝ ... whatever you say, pasha. ❞

haden nods to the others as she begins to leave, following behind her DUTIFULLY like a shadow. sunglasses are placed over his eyes as they make their way outdoors, the slightest bit of irritation noticable on his face. he needed to eat soon, but he would be fine for today.

❝ i should drive. ❞ it's the first time he speaks without others around them and his tone is louder, more commanding. the woman gives him a look, and he mirrors it with one of his own. he pulls himself closer, towering over her. ❝ listen, if anything were to happen, would you prefer to be in the drivers seat listening to me bark commands at you, or would you rather be in shelter while i took care of the fun stuff ? ❞ he reaches his hand out, brow quirked.

after a moment she relinquishes them, and the cool metal is placed into his palm. ❝ good girl. ❞ okay, perhaps he's PRESSING her a little bit, seeing how far he can reach without her snapping. plus, he was finding it amusing watching her boil, even as much as she was doing the same to HIM.

he holds open the passenger door for her, and shuts the door with a little click. grays wander around the space, scanning for anything out of place, and then he's next to her, spending quite a few long minutes shuffling around in the seat that had his knees nearly pressing against his chin. she was more than a foot smaller than him, and that INFURIATED HIM. ❝ why the fuck are you so SHORT. ❞ a grumble, as he finally comes to rest, comfortable, for once as the the car hums to life. ❝ where are we headed first, miss devereaux? ❞

if he wasn't the best in the business, pasha would fire him on the spot for his comments---especially the fucking pet names. but that would be playing right into his hands, wouldn't it? letting him get under her skin the way he desperately wants to. letting him win. so, instead, she takes a deep breath, forcing her smile to remain in place as she turns around and rakes him with a cold, assessing look.

haden is the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome; intimidating in a way that pasha's sure has made people shudder. it's only too bad he's dragging a giant fucking ego behind him.

"it's 'miss devereaux' to you." honey and venom lace her tone as brown eyes meet steely gray, her chin lifted in defiance. "pet names are reserved for men who satisfy me."

as the meeting turns to matters that have nothing to do with her, pasha stands up from her seat, wishing her parents and the others a good day before gathering her things. she doesn't signal for haden to follow, assuming he knows how to do his job, as she heads out of the restaurant's private rooms and towards her car.

"i have other meetings today and some errands to run, none of which should take particularly long." extorting people for protection money rarely ever does when you're a devereaux. pulling out her keys, pasha moves towards the driver's side door instinctively. "and then i'll be home for the rest of the day."

#spiritcrown #「 ʟɪғᴇ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ━ haden. ( ic )#「 ʜᴀᴅᴇɴ / ᴠᴇʀsᴇ: ɪɪ. ━ ( bleeding )

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 4 years ago

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A distant memory - Loki

Loki Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: Thor finds a letter Loki wrote to a woman called Y/n. He does not know this woman but the language used in the letter is loving and sweet, so Thor decides to ask about her. What he doesn’t know is that this woman has passed.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2110

My dearest Y/n,

Not a day passes without my mind, body, and soul yearning for your touch and pleasant conversation. Just yesterday I slept on your side of the bed in hopes of smelling traces of your perfume on the pillows. It did not help. Your books still hold your bookmarks on the places where you stopped. I must say, I admire your will to read every book that belongs to you but worry that you might never finish one. Just today, I found five different books that have your bookmarks. Yesterday, I found two. I have put them aside for you to make it easier to finish them. A fair maiden asked me for a dance last week at one of my father’s feasts but I had to refuse. No maiden could ever be as fair as you, even if you do step on my toes while we dance. It gives us more reason to keep practicing. My love for you grows every day and so does my longing. I fear you might be away for longer than I can take and I wonder if you would mind if I came over to see you for a day or two. Just the two of us.

Love,

Loki

‘Brother, who is this letter for?’ ‘What letter?’ Thor holds a letter that looks old and withered. It takes less than a second for Loki to realize what it is. He suddenly looks enraged. ‘Put it down,’ he snaps with venom laced in through his words. The sudden change in demeanor surprises and scares his brother. As careful as he can be, he puts the letter back on Loki’s desk. Loki rushes over and picks up the letter with the utmost care, gently putting it back in a drawer that he locks right away. ‘Who is Y/n?’ Loki sighs and leans against his desk. He looks tired when Thor looks at him again. It’s like a pain has been buried deep within him and has been eating at him for ages. ‘A hundred years or so ago, I went to Midgard to do some business for father. He send me to visit a pagan family that worshiped us to bless them. On the next farm over lived a young woman and when I went to the pagan family, they kept insulting her. I felt I could not justify giving our blessing if this maiden wasn’t the terrible person they said she was,’ Loki explains, ‘so I went over to her house to see for myself.’

Confidently, Loki strides over to the maiden’s house. Her garden is filled with flowers and herbs. From what Loki can tell, there are animals behind the house. This woman is sustaining herself but why? Why would a young maiden live so far removed from the fuss of the city? Especially since the family says she’s not married. Loki knocks on her door and hears fuss inside. It sounds like a dog barking at the door and a big one at that. He watches as a small latch in the door opens and a woman looks outside. He can only see her eyes but the eyes are the gates to the soul and her eyes are beautiful. They sparkle like the gems his mother wears, the reflection of water, or dewdrops on roses. ‘What is your business?’ ‘Forgive me for barging in miss. I have traveled long and far and need a place to rest my head. Would you allow me to sleep in your haystack or shed? Anywhere that’s dry.’ He hears the door unlock and out runs a big, black dog. He looks like he crawled from the debts of hell but his demeanor is friendly when his owner shows kindness. Loki doubts he acts the same if she is in trouble. ‘You make me sound cruel. Please come inside. I’ve got food to spare,’ she tells him with a friendly smile. Her door is wide open but Loki hesitates to step inside. He takes a good look at the maiden. As beautiful as she is, how is she capable of being this friendly. He can not imagine she has not been taken advantage of at least once. ‘You do not know me. Are you certain you want to show me kindness?’ ‘Why would I not? I have Bella to protect me if I need it and if I am frank, you look withered and weak. I doubt you’d be able to lay your hands on me,’ she tells him, ‘come inside. There’s a storm coming.’ Loki steps inside and follows her into the house. She offers him a chair at the table and gets him a plate as well as a drink. If this is a wicked woman, what is the family next door like? They show no kindness. Bella, the big dog, lays itself down under the table by her feet. She seems at ease as the maiden pets her a few times over the head. ‘So tell me, traveler, where are you going?’ ‘You don’t want to know where I’m from?’ ‘I doubt you’d want to talk about it if you’ve been traveling for long,’ she says, offering him a gentle smile, ‘besides, where you’re going tells more about you than where you’ve been.’ ‘I like your ideology miss. May I ask your name before I tell you?’ ‘Will you tell me yours if I tell you mine?’ ‘I fear you may want me out if I tell you.’ She nods, not pushing it any further. Loki feels like she wouldn’t mind who he is as she does not seem like a judgemental person but he wouldn’t want to run the risk. ‘My name is Y/n.’

Early in the morning, Loki awakes on the comfortable couch in Y/n’s living room with more blankets covering him than he went to sleep with. He is awoken by the wet, warm sensation of Bella licking his face. ‘Good morning Bella.’ He pets the dog a few times and gets up from his resting place. He hears Y/n call for Bella, who runs out excitedly. She must be outside, taking care of her animals. He dresses quickly and walks outside to see what she’s up to. He finds her sitting in the field, one of her cows laying beside her resting it’s head on her lap. She calls out commands to Bella to herd her sheep together and back to the pen. After the raging storm last night, she probably wants to see if they’re all alright. Loki walks towards her and sits down next to her in the grass. She nods to him, too busy to greet him. It’s only when all the sheep are in the pen that she fully acknowledges him. ‘Did you sleep well?’ ‘Yes, but the strangest thing happened,’ he tells her with a slight smirk on his lips, ‘I woke with three blankets while I’m sure I had only one when I went to sleep.’ ‘You looked cold.’ ‘You are a very kind host, miss Y/n.’ She smiles and looks out over the field. Bella comes running their way and sits down next to Loki. ‘She has taken a liking to you,’ Y/n notices, ‘she doesn’t like many people.’ ‘I feel honored.’ Loki pets the dog as he looks at Y/n. She looks beautiful in the morning light. Almost as beautiful as she had looked in the candlelight last night. ‘I feel like I have been untrue to you, miss,’ Loki tells her. ‘Why would that be? You are a traveler, are you not?’ ‘I am but not of the kind you know,’ he tells her, ‘you have been a wonderful host and I feel you deserve the truth.’ She chuckles. ‘You speak like this will change everything.’ ‘It might,’ he lets his head hang, ‘my name is Loki, god of mischief. I originally came here to bless the family next door for their devotion to us but they spoke ill of you. I felt I had to be certain you were a bad person if they were to deserve our blessing.’ ‘And what might your conclusion be, Loki god of Mischief?’ ‘They should deserve our blessing for their faithfulness and devotion to us but not for their treatment of others.’ She smiles. ‘I see.’ ‘May I ask why they talk of you this way?’ ‘I am an unmarried woman living alone on a farm. If I’m not being called a spinster, I’m being called a witch. It changes with the season. I’m used to it by now.’ She shrugs it off like it’s nothing but Loki feels a pit of rage in his stomach. A woman as lovely as her should be worshiped. He rips a piece of his golden armor off and puts it between his hands, forging a golden bracelet from it. ‘If you’ll allow me, I’d like to protect you,’ he says and shows her the simple, golden band. She looks hesitant and Loki understands. He’s the god of mischief. ‘Forgive my hesitation but I have been fending for myself for what feels like forever. It’s a kind gesture but I do not need it.’ He nods but gently takes her hand and puts it on. ‘Wear it,’ he tells her, ‘I will not protect you but I will watch over you. If you need company, just call out to me.’ She smiles again, putting her hand over his. ‘That is very kind, Loki.’

As summer progressed into fall, Y/n harvested her crops and made sure they’d survive winter. Her harvest wasn’t great but over time she noticed her supplies would not lessen, even if she took something. It would just reappear when she returned. Loki had visited her a few times during summer but when fall got colder, he stayed away. She feared she might’ve read his actions all wrong as she felt her feelings grow towards him. She thought he felt the same. When Winter thawed and the ground got softer, she called out to Loki in hopes to ask him about it. He did not appear and she feared he had forgotten about her. That is until- ‘Did you miss me?’ She couldn’t stop the smile appearing on her face if she tried. It’s like her feet work on their own as she runs over to him and throws her arms around him. ‘It’s so good to see you again. I feared you had forgotten me.’ ‘Forget the fairest maiden I have ever met? I could never,’ he tells her with a smile. His eyes linger on her lips for a second. ‘I stayed away in hopes your feeling would lessen.’ ‘My feelings? How did you know?’ ‘Darling, I am a god.’ ‘That’s fair, I should’ve known,’ she says with a grin, taking his hands, ��but why?’ ‘I am not the best suitor and a maiden like you surely deserves better.’ ‘I do not want better.’ He frowns and looks down at her darling eyes. They still shine like gems and are filled with love. ‘My darling, I cannot marry you,’ he tells her, ‘I am prince, heir to the throne. They expect me to marry a goddess.’ ‘I understand.’ She smiles but he can tell she feels terrible. Her heart dropped and her smile faltered. It wasn’t hard to tell that his words hurt her. ‘I wish I could. I truly do,’ he promises her. ‘Then, don’t marry me but stay with me until you have to give yourself to another.’ ‘My darling, my mischief seems to have rubbed off on you,’ he speaks proudly, ‘yes. I will stay loyal to you until I must love another.’

‘But the villagers started a witch hunt and as a single, unmarried woman she was the first target,’ Loki tells his brother, ‘I could not protect her. Father would not let me.’ ‘You loved her, didn’t you?’ ‘I did but it’s in the past now. There’s no bringing her back.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘Don’t be. I was young and stupid. I fell in love with someone I couldn’t have.’ Thor nods and takes a deep breath. ‘Believe me or don’t but you deserve love, Loki. I hope you’ll find a woman like her.’ Loki lets out a breathy laugh. ‘There is no woman like her.’ Thor leaves Loki’s room. It takes Loki a second to come back to reality. His hand reaches for the drawer and unlocks it once again, taking out the golden band she had worn. He deserves love, yes, but he has already met the person he was supposed to be with and no one else will ever compare.

#loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n

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palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Paralyse

this is for @libiraki. ily pwetty lady (づ◡﹏◡)づ warnings: tw.dubcon, tw.cucking, SMUT/18+ only, vouyerism, fingering & other dirty things

Paralyse par·a·lyze /ˈperəˌlīz/ verb cause (a person or part of the body) to become partly or wholly incapable of movement.

It should have worn off by now.

It’s not supposed to take this long, to feel like this. It had barely hit him; there’s no way he hadn’t dodged it in time. Fucking, stupid, quirk. Why bother to activate it? What’s the use if it doesn’t kick in for hours? It hadn’t helped the man; he’d died all the same.

Goddamn it.

Shigaraki tries to shift his fingers, his toes, his shoulders. He can sense that his brain is sending the right signals, that the correct neurons are firing, sparking, fizzing within his heavy muscles; they have to be, because he can sense the ache that they leave behind.

But nothing changes. He’s locked in place, his head craned against the floor, eyes narrowed, teeth gritted, a thin line of drool slipping down his useless lips.

Dabi had knocked him from the thin mattress, forcing you to crouch down beside him, telling you how to position him, to lift his chin a little more, to ensure that Shigaraki can see everything that’s unfolding before him.

Dabi’s not supposed to be here.

No, Dabi had said he was going to be away for the next few days, pounding the pavement and scouting for new recruits. He must have finished early, or given up. He always had some kind of excuse, some brisk wave of his long fingers, staples glinting against the dim light of the bar top, assuring his “boss” that he’d get to it, eventually.

Shigaraki isn’t even sure how the asshole had gotten into his room.

For his part, Shigaraki had been useless for hours, collapsing soon after his return, his body hitting the floor with a dull thud, scattering dust and a sharp collection of gasps from his followers. You’d reached for him, hands tugging his head up, begging him to tell you what was wrong, what had happened.

He couldn’t say, couldn’t answer, his jaw tense, already locking up from the paralysis quirk he’d been unlucky enough to fall under the spell of.

You’d done your best to prop him back up and Kurogiri had ensured that the two of you were warped to the dark sanctuary of his bedroom seconds later, sequestering him from the prying gaze of the others.

Someone must have told Dabi. Must have said that Shigaraki was incapacitated, weak, vulnerable, leaving you, by default, ripe for the taking.

He’d never liked that you’d elected to pair off with Shigaraki. Always snapping and baring his teeth at the two of you, angry that you’d somehow managed to slip through his mottled fingers.

Shigaraki had done his upmost to play up on those frustrations, pleased he could rile such vehement emotions from the flame user. He’d flaunted his access to you, touching you, kissing you, marking you with dark bites and bruises. Apparently, he’d struck more than a nerve.

Well, if turn about is fair play, Dabi’s done his best to ensure that Shigaraki has got a good view.

You’re splayed across the bed, one leg braced under Dabi’s burned skin. There are bright pricks of red and purple that litter your inner thighs, evidence of his all too hot touch against you. He hasn’t left you with a single scrap of clothing and your naked skin prickles against the heat of his fingers and the cool sucks and licks he leaves behind, evidence of his ravenous want.

“Stop being so quiet,” Dabi chides, cerulean eyes lifting to yours, fixing you with a sharp glare. “How can he hear you if you keep biting your tongue like that? It’s not fair, is it boss?” His head whips around and he barks out a cruel laugh, teeth bright as he leers down at Shigaraki’s prone form. “Anything you wanna see? You fucked her in the ass yet?”

You gasp out a sharp whimper at his final question and squirm under his grip. Dabi looks back at you, staples pulling against the lift of his smile. “Ooooh, think I can take that as a no. Well babe, let’s put on a show for him. Let him see how to really please you, cause’ I know he hasn’t. I know you need something else, something better than the weak fucks that pent up incel has been giving you.”

One of his hands curls under your chin and you lower your head, teeth snapping, trying to catch one of those long fingers as they dance away. He just chuckles and puts more of his body weight against you, his head dipping to the line of your throat.

“Don’t be like that. Who knows? You might like it. Might like it so much you’ll want more.”

As he presses his nose to your pulse, taking in a sharp inhale and sighing blissfully at the heady scent of you, his other hand has wandered to the apex of your thighs. Deftly, he pushes past your dampening curls and moves his middle finger along your folds, delighting in your sudden, unbidden reaction.

Your hips coil upward, betraying you with a swiftness that makes your head spin. He’s careful to keep away from your pulsing entrance, pinching at your slippery labia as his tongue traces a wet line to your ear.

You shake your head, angry with yourself, lifting from the tattered mattress, eyes peering into the darkness, searching for that familiar mop of white hair; looking for him, the one that you really want, you remind yourself, the man that you need. Not Dabi. Not him. You don’t...you don’t want...oh...fuck–

“There we go. I’ll make you a deal, say my name and I’ll touch you where you want me to. How does that sound? Hmmm?”

“D-Dabi! Don’t...I–”

Dabi’s found your clit.

His calloused thumb and forefinger are pinching around the bud, frigging and tweaking it until faint dots pass over your eyes. Your head drops back to the bed and your hips roll, legs unconsciously spreading, your traitorous cunt betraying you, offering you up.

“Mmm, you look real pretty like this, so pink and...and...fuck babe, look how wet you are,” Dabi pulls away from your heat, catching the spidery strands of your arousal, stretching them across his fingers.

“No! I didn’t...I don’t want this....get off me! You...fucking...disgusting...ah–”

Your voice fades away as you watch him, eyes drifting to half mast, lungs burning as you try to contain your budding excitement. He’s licking his digits into his mouth, slurping hungrily at the wetness of your cunt, head turning back to the stiffened man behind him.

“Look at her! Can you do this? You ugly fucker? Can you make her wet from just one touch? Do you even fucking know what to do with her? You don’t deserve this, you haven’t earned it. Bet he can’t even make you cum, can he babe?”

He’s looking down at you again, one dark brow arched. “Let’s show him how it’s done. Come on doll, let me hear how much you want me.”

It’s all the warning that you have, all the preparation he allows before his fingers are slipping past the tight ring of your entrance. You neck arches under you, breasts lifting as your back bows off the bed. Before you can blink, his lips are around your tightening nipples, passing from one to the other as he strokes and teases, searching for something within you.

“Such a good girl, saying my name like that and you’re so sensitive,” Dabi coos, tongue tickling under the curve of your breast. “Tomura, does she do this for you? Nah, I doubt it. Look how much she likes me!”

The only sound from the paralyzed form of Shigaraki is his labored breathing. It rasps across the room and it makes you shiver to know he’s watching. Before you realize what you’re doing, your arms are lifting from your sides, cupping against the back of Dabi’s head, holding him to you as you writhe and buck under his talented fingers.

Dabi gifts you a low groan, teeth dipping out, worrying your tender skin under his soft bites. “Yes, just like that. Tell me babe, tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, I’ll make it so good you can’t fucking think.”

You voice is frozen, trapped within the confines of your throat, but your body is speaking for you, answering him with hazy want. On an upward cant his fingertips hit something within you, something that makes a broken sigh escape your trembling lips. You can feel his grin, his lips curling, warm staples passing over you as he taps against the spot again.

“There,” he moans, rewarding you with another press. “You like that, huh?”

“I–” you falter, mouth falling open and hips lifting. “I don’t...I don’t...”

“Don’t what?” Dabi teases, lifting his dark head from your breasts, raising those preceptive blue eyes to yours. “Want me to stop?”

“No!” you hear yourself cry out, ashamed that you’re so fucking weak, so fickle, but you can’t help it. You want more, you want him.

“Mmm, you’re ready for something else, aren’t you?”

He waits for your answer, fingers stilling within you, making your pussy clench and suck at his stationary digits, vainly asking him to continue. You lift your head, eyes pulling away from his to rest on Shigaraki, searching the vermillion, looking for some kind of answer.

“Don’t look at him, don’t even think about him,” Dabi scolds, slick fingers snatching your chin, demanding your full attention. “Do you want my cock babe? Do you want me to fill you up?”

Your mouth has gone dry and you can’t think, not when he’s looking at you like that, not when you know Shigaraki is watching, listening, taking all of this in. He must be hard, he must be so hard and he can’t relieve himself, can’t grind his hips over the cold ground, can’t...

Dabi’s hand cracks against your side, slapping against the swell of your ass and driving you into him, bare breasts scraping against his loose shirt. “I said, don’t think about him. I’m all you need and I’m going to make you realize that, one way or another.”

He shoves you back down, a large palm spaying over your collarbone as he rids himself of his dark pants, freeing his heavy, dripping cock and giving it a few quick tugs.

Your eyes drift downward, widening as you take in his thick girth and gleaming piercings and the gasp that leaves you is all the encouragement he needs. As soon as the exhale leaves your lungs he’s driving forward, splitting you open and flashing you a wild grin as you brokenly call out his name.

“That’s it baby, say it again, tell me again. Say my fucking name,” Dabi laughs, pulling his hips back slowly, watching as his length emerges from your cunt, glistening and wet.

“D-Dabi,” you groan, toes digging into the sheets, bracing yourself for another rough cant, ready to feel him again.

“Again,” he pants, picking up his pace, his thumb reaching for your throbbing clit. “Say it again. I don’t think he can hear you.”

Shigaraki is mumbling something, his voice hitting a frantic note. It might be your name, it might be a curse, it could be anything, but, at this point, you’re too focused on Dabi to care. He feels good and those piercings of his are heating up, scraping against you until you’re a shivering mess.

“Harder!” you beg, fingertips reaching for the skin of his mangled hips, curving over the slope of his ass, pulling him into you. “Fuck me harder, Dabi. Give me more!”

“Such a good girl,” Dabi laughs, slinging your shaking legs over his shoulders. “Hurry up and break outta that quirk boss. I wanna see what she feels like with two of us. It’s waaaay past time you broke her ass in. Just think how tight this cunt of hers will feel then. Ah, fuck...yes baby, just like that, do that again.”

Shigaraki is gasping behind the two of you, his throbbing cock leaving wet drips against the front of his pants. You look so good. Goddamn it. Why the fuck do you look so good? He should kill Dabi, just reach out for that nasty skin of his and crumple him to dust, but he’s right. Shigaraki wants to see what you feel like with two dicks. Will it make you tighter? Will it feel good? How loud will you scream for him when he shoves past the puckered ring of your ass?

God.

His arms are starting to tingle and he can feel his toes again. Not long now, he thinks, watching as Dabi pounds you into the ratty mattress, dragging more whines and gasps from your pretty lips. He’ll get his due and he’ll show you what a fucking slut you are, show you just how much you need him.

How much you need both of them.

notes: sigh, it got too long :(

#drabble #kinda?#idk #i cannot write small #sigh #for libi #libiraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #tw: dubcon #tw: cucking #bnha smut

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