#watching young royals hehe

[icantalk710]

Quick compilation to show that I'm, for all intents and purposes, still alive in one way or another, hi 😳

[hergrandplan]

the urge. to post chapter 4 on October 18th. for reasons only known to me. is so strong but i dont think i can let y'all wait that long (i mean i dont want to make any promises on how long it will take so it might be october 18th but im not gonna specifically wait until then if I finish it earlier)

[myyoungroyalsblog]

Love the trope where the "straight" person has their queer awakening when hearing a beautiful person sing

And then of course... Show the other how to play an instrument in the music room

[ropebunnykant]

that’s so embarrassing for august. good

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝐂.𝐉𝐇 ♡

Day Twenty-Five - Angel/Worshiping

【Synopsis】 : His job was to be an observer. Do not under any circumstances interact or intervene with human lives. Oh, how he royally fucked that up.

『Word count』 : 4.50k

-> Genre: Smut. Spn Au. Fluff. Angst-ish. Romance.

Pairing: Angel!Jongho x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : We stan a service dom. Making out. Mention of toxic religion and dark past. Swearing. Play fighting? Lots of sweet talking and pet names. Jongho loses it. Multiple orgasms. Fingering. Bondage with the use of angelic power. Creampie. See now… this was supposed to be protected sex. But uh… Whoops.

Note: This is inspired by the show supernatural. I dearly love that show, and i love Castiel, so i wanted to give this a hunter x angel vibe (even included Jongho wearing a trench coat cause i personally need that, hehe) anyways enjoy my loves. Also, more credits to my baby yaya for brainstorming and chatting with me about these plots and concepts. I love youu. @skteezcursed ♡

Networks: @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

In the realm of ethereal lights and whispering winds, Jongho, a young angel, received his first assignment from the Council of Celestial Beings. His task was to descend to Earth, to wander among the humans, unnoticed, learning their ways without ever intervening. Simple enough he thought, observing these creatures fascinated him the moment he was awoken. So studying was a secret passion of his. Of course the Celest didn't need knowing of his passions. His feelings. Angel weren't allowed such luxuries. As he readied for his departure, he couldn’t shake the sadness that slowly came to him. He had heard tales of their joys and sorrows, yet he was forbidden from mingling, a bystander in a world so vibrant and chaotic. It left a feeling deep inside him that he didn't have a word to describe It.

Upon his descent, Jongho found himself in a quaint off shore town, alive with the chatter and bustle of everyday human activities. He found an instant awe in every passerby as he felt his new solid body get used to the mucked air of humanity. It wasn't all sunshines and rainbows, Jongho was quick to find. But there was something so raw and intriguing about faults and flaws that left him wanting to know more. Angels are perfect in every way. Raised to be emotionless and trained to be warriors. But humans. They drew their own path. Each and every one, different and interweaving with another.

They were perfect in their own imperfect ways.

It was during one of his solitary wanderings through the local park on his third day that he first saw his ultimate study, a young woman with an aura unlike nothing he has ever seen. You. The eventual love of his life. He still found it entertaining telling the story of how you two met to others. It was one he was proud of, granted slightly embarrassed but proud nonetheless.

You were the embodiment of joy in Jonghos eyes when he first laid eyes on you. Laughing amongst friends, your smile bright enough to illuminate the drab grey skies or any dark day. Yet, there was something else that drew Jongho in—an underlying energy that contradicted your outward happiness. Was it despair that he felt? Longing or unfulfillment? Despite the sparkle in your eyes, your aura shimmered a muted blue, heavy with isolation and unspoken sorrow.

At first, he remained hidden, watching from the safety of the shadows. Days turned to weeks, and Jongho grew to adore your way of life, your fierce independence, and the way you chased dreams like they were fireflies. As he watched something inside him began to stir—a longing that felt both exhilarating and dangerous. Rules dictated that angels should remain distant, mere observers of mortal life, yet Jongho found himself captivated, unable to tear himself away.

but he couldn't help him as he listened to your laughter, watched your interactions with others, and noted how you seemed to wear your joy as a mask making sure everyone around you thought everything was perfect. The dissonance captivated him as he began to seek ways to understand why your essence felt so at odds with your expression. It wasn’t long before you began to notice him. At first, it was a fleeting shadow in your periphery and a strangle feeling of being watched. But soon enough, you turned, eyes narrowing on the mysterious presence that lingered whenever you wandered through the quiet parts of town. And one starry night, under a full winter moon, you finally got to confront the mysterious figure.

“Who is there?” You demanded into the darkness your breath shook out like smoke, “Show yourself.” Your voice was a mixture of curiosity and alarm, as you reached for some snow that sat on top of the brick wall next to you. You didn't really know what a snowball would accomplish but at least you were armed… Kind of. “Why have you been following me!!”

Jongho hesitated, heart pounding in his chest like a drum. Lying was not an option, he knew that. But he didn't want to scare you away. “I… I’m Jongho,” he stammered, stepping from the cloak of darkness. his glowing crystal blue eyes making your breath hitch as his cream-coloured trench coat covered his hunched figure. his crooked smile and hands up in defeat caused you to feel a slight twinge of relief, knowing it wasn't someone bad but you didn't drop the snow still holding it firmly in a throwing position.”I’m sorry. It was not my intention to scare you.”

You went to speak, but what caused your eyes widened in surprise. Disbelief flitting across your face was the way his eye danced in the dimly lit street lamp above him with each step he took. They shifted from blue to a pale grey to a purple and then back to blue like they could just stick to one colour. You took a step back, putting your other hand up with a ‘stop’ expression with a shake of your snowball slightly as if it's a threat. Jongho seemed to notice your caution quickly stopping in his tracks with a slight raise in his brow. “W-what are you…” You knew he couldn't be human. Creatures weren't abnormal in your life, but seeing one in front of you was a different story.

“I'm a…” He felt his words get caught in his throat. He wasn't allowed to reveal himself. That was rule two. Rule one was to never get caught so he's already fucked that one up.

“Well.” you felt the silence deafening. Was he a demon coming to steal your soul? Was he a vampire looking for a meal? Worse was he a wolf wanting to forcibly claim you… Your anxiety began to spike at his slow response. “Who are you!?” you said more firmly.

“I..” He took a step forward without thinking, making you freeze. “Don't move!” He put his hands up higher, clicking his tongue a little. Are humans always this cautious? “Can you lower your…weapon.. Please.” he pointed to the snowball.

“Tell me what you are first.”

“I'll tell you. Just put the snow down.” He rolled his eyes. “It'll have no effect on me.” He said calmly.

“Oh really?” You took his innocent words as a threat throwing the snow at him. It hit him square in the chest. Jongho looked down at the wet patch now on his trench coat and suit.

“Yes, really.” His voice seemed to have grown deeper as he looked at you with a deadpan expression. “Now that you are done. I—”

You threw another snowball at him.

“What was that for?” Jongho wiped the soft white snow off his face this time looking at you unamusingly. But you, on the other hand, had a small crooked smile as your chest heaved lightly in delight. “For scaring me.”

Jongho inhaled deeply, staring at you bluntly with a tilted head. He Knew what you did was technically fair. But he also knows if he opens his mouth you'd just throw another piece of snow at him. He could see it in your aura as it shifted from the sombre blue to a pale calming green. For the first time since he was observing you, your emotions matched your aura.

So in an instant he chuckled, his eyes glowing bright white as his ethereal wings unfurled behind him as if appearing out of thin air, each feather glimmering like freshly fallen snow in the moonlight. You gasped, eyes wide in awe as you witnessed the angelic magic. The wings stretched out majestically, radiating a soft glow that illuminated her face.

After the initial shock wore off, a slow smile spread across your face... “oh okay, you're an angel..” you said, you voice a gentle whisper with a slight chuckle in it. “Still doesn't answer why you're following me.”

“I'm an observer” he admitted, folding his wings back into a softer form, their brightness dimming as he hid them from your gaze. He shook his shoulders a final time letting them fall out into the cosmos as if they were never there to begin with. “I’m not supposed to interact with humans. I’m here to watch, not to engage.”

“Hmm…” That night was still etched in Jongho's mind. He often spent his night dreaming of it. He would remember the way you would walk with him after you finally put the snowballs down. Asking about his kind while you told him about you being a descendant from hunters, hence why you knew he was a creature of sorts.

He took you home that night with a smile and a shining green aura. He couldn't explain it back then but he came to realise you have both changed each other for the better and worse. You found he was missing in your life while he found his whole meaning and morals to be no longer black and white but a swirling mixtures of bright colours and shades.

Every moment of joy you gave him was shadowed by an encroaching darkness—his guilt weighed heavily on his heart. Heaven was meant to keep him untouched, a guardian observing life from afar. And yet, here he was, choosing to break the sacred rules for a connection he had never thought possible.

And he regretted nothing.

You filled his days with light. Helping him uncover the joys of human existence—the taste of fresh fruit, the thrill of a summer storm or the calmness of spring breeze and the beauty of quiet sunsets. Each moment spent with you made him yearn for more—a desire to embrace earth and all its wonders, bad or good… To mingle not just as a watcher, but as a participant.

“What you thinking about, angel?” Your voice rang through his thoughts. Your head nuzzled against his large back as you gave the large man a back hug, feeling his defined shoulder muscles against your plump cheeks.

“Hmm.. oh, just us.” He said calming looking back down to the drink he was pouring, closing the lid to the liquor bottle. “how we met.”

You could hear the sombre beat of his golden angelic heart in your ear pressed firmly against his back. He had prepared a grand dinner earlier in the evening. A feast fit for a celestial being. The night was rich with aroma and laughter, and as the candles flickered against the walls, the air thickened with anticipation and longing. He wanted to make the night perfect. To show how much he loved and cared for you. Plus he wanted to show off his new cooking skills.

“We were both so different back then…” You whispered, neither of you moving. “I was running and you were…”

“Following corrupted orders blindly.” He downed the dark amber liquid in his glass, turning around while holding your arms so you would be hugging his front now. His hand gently came up to pat your head, giving you a gummy smile, his eyes lazy and content. “I still don't regret anything. You know that dont you Honey?”

“I know…” You whispered, sitting up slightly to look at his face. Your hand cupped his cheek feeling the warmth of his skin against your own. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, taking every slight touch you gifted him. “I just... You left so much behind. It wasn't easy.”

He grabbed your hands quickly, making you jump lightly. Bringing them up to his mouth he kissed every knuckle. “I left pain behind. I left corruption and misguided order. Yes it wasn't easy leaving the only thing I knew of. But if I hadn't left. I would have never been able to call you mine.” Heart racing, Jongho leaned closer, his instincts taking the lead as passion surged within him, inviting him to surrender to the depths of their connection. “I would have never discovered the wonders of this world.”

He placed a sweet short kiss on your lips, “I would've never found a new, even better thing to worship.” You didn't miss the way his smirk grew as the kiss grew more fervent, igniting a flame inside him that urged him to give himself completely to you. To honour and worship the beauty and vulnerability he now cherished. With each caress, he learned how to dissolve the hesitating lines between an angel's restraint and a lover's fervour. He was more than ready to succumb to the ways of humanity, to embrace his newfound cravings, even before he met you. He willingly danced down the spiral towards being a fallen angel, all for human life—all for you.

“J-Jong…” You whimpered against his lips, never being able to get used to the power the drips from him. His hands let go of your own, finding a new place on your hips. He pushed you backwards until your ass tapped the island bench and without warning he lifted you up onto it, letting your exposed thighs feel the sharp twinges of the ice cold marble. Tonight was almost identical to the night you met, snow falling harshly with crisp air, leaving everything to be blanketed in a freezing touch. “P-please.”

Your whimpers were completely swallowed by Jongho as he moved with determination. Never has he initiated sex before nor has it ever been rough. The first time you slept with him was downright awkward to say the least. You both acted like teenagers that had no idea what they were doing but you soon got Jongho to understand the ways around the human body, especially the female anatomy. But in this moment he had all the control, sending your head into a tailspin. His grunts caused a shiver down your spine as he cage you on the table. His hips were snug against yours, letting you feel his growing hard on with each grind of his pelvis. His left hand snaked up to hold the back of your neck while the right slowly made its way down to your panty covered core. You had forgone pants as you were just lazing about and right now you were shouting thank you at your past self for it.

“So beautiful…” he murmured, finally breaking free from your mouth, giving you space to breathe. His lips, however, were quick to latch onto your neck, suckling bright marks on your soft skin. “Do you like this baby? Does this feel nice.”

“Y-yes.” You whimpered, bucking your hips, urging him to continue further. He understood as if he could hear your thoughts, quickly tugging your panties off until they were discarded somewhere on the floor. His fingers quickly found your wet folds spreading them so his thumb could push firmly on your clit. You let out a loud gasp, your head tilting back against the marble, letting Jongho continue his assault on your flesh. “Angel…please, more.”

He growled at the ironic pet name you have gifted Him. The word made him feel some unexplainable way. In the past the name meant soldier, a warrior that was devoted to the higher purpose but now it meant he was yours. That he belonged to you and was yours to do as you wished. He trailed his lips down your covered chest making you giggle as he tried to kiss through the soft cotton. “What are you doing, my love?”

“Hmm, loving you.” He merely replied, going back to trailing his kisses down until he got to your soaking cunt, it glistening with slick from his thumb gently rubbing your sensitive bud for the last couple of minutes. He flattened his tongue on your core, licking up a strip Feeling the way your whole body shivers and bucks in response. He continued, using his free hand that was holding onto The marble countertop to slide down and sink two fingers inside of your clenching pussy. You sighed feeling the contemptment of having something inside you but it was when his tongue flicked your clit before he sucked in sharply that your hands flew to his hair choking on a scream as he fucked you in a quickened pace.

“Fuck fuck fuck, f-faster. Please.” With a soft chuckle, Jongho quickly granted your wish. He thrusted his fingers faster while his tongue lapped up your wet folds while also teasing your bud.

"You taste so good," He murmured against you, his free hand gripping your thigh as he held you in place.. "I love eating your pussy, Honey." His words sent a shockwave of desire through you. Never have you heard Jongho whisper such filthy confessions. He was always so shy to mention what he found attractive or enjoyable. Always settling for simple and whatever you wished over his own desires. You couldn’t help but cry out, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Oh fuck, Jongho... don't stop."

Jongho moaned in response, the vibration of his groan sending pleasure spiralling through you. He sucked and licked, his fingers now quickening their pace just right, scissoring, and curling to find that magic spot. You were reduced to a quivering mess, your hips bucking off the countertop as he skillfully pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me, baby," he whispered, his fingers pumping inside you harshly. "Let go."

You silently cried out, your whole body shaking as you tumbled over the precipice. White-hot pleasure engulfed you as your juices flowed out, riding out your intense orgasm. Jongho lapped at you eagerly, drinking up your slick as he gentled his fingers, prolonging your pleasure.

You slowly opened her eyes, your chest still heaving as you smiled down at Jongho with a light giggle.. He looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with love and desire. "I love you so much." he said, his voice thick with need. "I want to make you feel good. I need to make you feel good."

Your heart melted at his words. "I love you too," you whispered, stroking his hair as his wet cheek nuzzled against your hand. Your smile only grew as he came up slowly to seal his lips against your own letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His hard body was pressed against your as he caged you, his fingers lacing with yours so he could give your hand a tight squeeze. Your tongue danced with his completely missing the way his free hand moves back to your empty pussy.

It wasn't until you gasped against him as he entered you even deeper with two fingers, that you felt yourself shiver in completely ecstasy.

He began to move again, freeing his laced fingers to move down to your ass, spreading your cheeks while he thrusted slowly and deeply, using his hips to grind into you.

Your moans were swallowed by Jongho, your nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure built within you again. The kiss grew deeper, more feverish as your tongues duelled while your passion escalated.

Breaking the kiss, Jongho nibbled on your ear, his teeth tugging at the lobe. “My perfect little human. My beloved…” He growled, “My goddess.”

You could tears prick in the corners of your eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and devotion. Your angel, calling you the one thing he treasured most. To think anyone let alone a celestial being, would think so highly of you made your heart soare. Reaching down between your bodies, you grasped his hard length through his pants making him let out a low grunt. You undid his belt and zipper, reaching inside to free his throbbing cock. It pulsed in your hand, slicked with pre-cum, and as you stroked him gently, he continued to move within you.

"Condom... need one..." Jongho panted against your swollen lips, his hips snapping forward as he filled her over and over with his fingers, threatening to slip the tip of his cock inside..

You bit your lip, knowing exactly what to do. "Go, I'll wait here for you."

With a final, deep thrust, Jongho pulled out, his eyes burning with desire. "Don't move," he ordered his hair dishevelled, face red and chest heaving. He kicked off his jeans that had fallen off his thick thighs, discarded them alongside your panties. Your eyes never left his as he tugged his shirt off before turning to sprinting down the hall, his bare ass on display as he went to retrieve protection from the bedroom. You couldn't help giggled, your body still buzzing with pleasure as you finally gave yourself a moment to relax on top of the kitchen counter. You watched his retreating form, admiring the defined muscles of his back and the powerful flex of his ass as he ran. Your eyes travelled down to his strong, bare legs, and you licked your lips, a naughty idea forming in your mind.

Jongho soon returned, the box condoms in hand. But when he turned the corner, he stopped short, his eyes widening at the sight before him. There was his beautiful baby, bent over the dining table, completely naked, displaying your delectable ass to him.

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, a sultry smile on your face. "What ya waiting for angel," You purred, wiggling her bare ass invitingly.

Jongho's eyes darkened, and he quickly crossed the room, his steps purposeful and filled with determination. He gripped yout hips, pulling you toward him. His hand rubbed the globs of your ass giving the Soft skin a slight slap. He didn't know what came over him but it was like a fearl creature has crept through his very being. “Look at you.”

His growl was animalistic, something you've never heard before. The way he push air through His nose with a low grunt sent your mind straight into a fog. Jongho thought all he powers were gone when he left heaven. But yet, he could feel the tingle of power trickle down his spine, the energy surging through the palms of his hands. This was a different kind of power though and with a blink of an eye, he swiped his hand in the air, black smoke coming out like tendrils dancing Around your body until they found your wrist yanking them behind your back before bounding you tightly. Your face was squshed against the countertop as you gasp out with a startled. “J-Jongho?”

“Don't. Fucking. Move.” He punctuated every word, sweat already coating his brow. His whole body was shaking, as if something was invading all of his senses. You've never heard him swear before let alone say the word fuck. Even trying to get him to say shut up was hard. But yet here he was, and oh, Did it make the situation feel ten times more filthy. Completely forgetting about the condoms that were place a hand reach away, he lined the tip of his angry cock up with your wet entrance. And with one smooth thrust, he sank into your aching cunt, his cock sheathed snuggly.

You cried out, your eyes snaping Shut as your hips bucked. You've never felt him fuck you raw before as he always said he wanted to respect you and treat you right. The excitement of him coming inside you suddenly clouded your judgement and you started to beg for more. Jongho gripped your wiggling hips tightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he began to move, fucking you slowly and passionately, his eyes fixed on the way their bodies joined. The was his cock disappears deep inside you while slowly being coating in your juices.

"You feel so damn good," he growled, his eyes fluttering closed as he relished the tight heat surrounding him.

You drooled into the table, your fingers tangling in the shadows the bound at your wrists as he felt him stretch you, taking him time to enjoy every sensation of your cunt. “H-hard, Angel.” You begged, wanting more. "Please.

At your words, Jongho quickened his pace, his hips snapping forward as he gave you what you craved. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, along with mingled moans and groans. Your breasts pressed firmly into the tabletop made your nipples tingling as Jongho pounded into you harder from behind. His hand found place on your ass cheek, gifting you a open palmed smack making you sob while your walls clench arounf his thick cock, your body spiralling towards another climax. Jongho felt you tightening around him, and his own control snapped, crossing his arms, he gripped your hips drilling his cock into you at an inhuman pace.

"Cum for me again," he ordered, his voice harsh almost dark. "Cum on my fucking cock like a good baby."

His words were all it took to push you over the edge. Tears staining your face and table, you body shook as pleasure blitzed through you. Jongho groaned, his own release imminent as he felt you clutching at him, milking his cock. another Surge of power trickled down his spine cause a low monstrous grumble to leave his chest. And with few more powerful thrusts, he followed you over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him as he filled your tight hole with his seed. Panting, Jongho pulled out, his legs trembling as he reached for your hand. The shadows as snaked away letting you move from the uncomfortable position. But it was when you looked over your shoulders that all the air had seemingly left your lungs.

“J-Jongho…” There he Was your lover with beautiful angelic wings. But what caught Your attention was they were no longer the snow piercing white like your remember. No, they were a pitch inky black. A shade you only see when staring At a night sky with no stars. He chest was heaving he finally Opened his eyes To gaze upon you but his creamy chocolate brown were replaced with deep crimsons. while his skin was litter with greyish black veins. “Holy shit…”

All your words were stuck on your tongue. he was not an angel anymore. That you were sure of but Something darker had crept its way inside and you could tell if it worried or excited you. But Jongho was not worried, in fact, he had a feeling this was bound to happen to him. He had heard of angels that fall become demonic rather than just a powerless human. But he didnt think it would feel so freeing. It was like Jongho finally understood the meaning of true connection and the cost that came with it. With you by his side, the allure of mortal desires became a promise, carrying him forward into the beautiful unknown. And together, he would rewrite all the rules of their worlds, one climax at a time.

[6toru]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄.

synopsis. gaining the title ‘duke’ not only came with the prestige, but came along the lonely days you spent yearning for your husband as he toggled the new duties and responsibilities he had to face. it was only a matter of time before you decided that you could only have so much patience, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt if you played around a little – watching as your husband who held himself in great temperance and sangfroid fall into pieces the more you attempt to break his composure.

pairing. nanami kento x fem!reader genre. dukedom & arranged marriage au + smut cw. mature content (mdni), breeding kink, rough sex , explicit language + dirty talk

word count. 4.2k

author's note. hehe a repost from an old writing blog of mine ! def one of my favourite pieces + something about someone who's usually so poised losing control of themselves... feral is what i am 😩

NANAMI KENTO, no doubt, was a powerful young man who earned himself the title Duke from the royal king after his contribution and victory in the most recent war. Of course, now that he was given the new title, he was given a whole lot of responsibilities and duties that he’s got to fulfill now that he had plenty more people to protect. Nowadays, the young duke would either be found training his lot of knights, hunting, or cooped up in his grand office busying himself with myriads of documents. Despite being incredibly proud of his achievements, you still couldn’t help but yearn for the affection of your beloved husband.

 Many nights were spent alone, staring up at the tall dark ceiling while you silently counted sheep – hoping that once you had reached a hundred, he would arrive and join you in bed (he’d often fall asleep on the sofa in his office). And, many nights were spent with you fending for yourself when you longed for his touch, arching your back when you’d climax on your fingers – however, you never felt fully satisfied. Your fingers could never compare to his larger and thicker fingers, nor his… 

You shake your head rapidly, feeling your cheeks growing redder by the lewd thoughts of your husband swimming through your mind. The last time you had intercourse with the male was when you both consummated the marriage, which was almost half a year ago, and then a month after that, the war happened – and two months later, he’d come back with a new title, Duke. Everything else after that was a blur. He was just within your reach ��� residing in the same manor and all, could almost reach for him but always got farther and farther away. You miss your husband, desperately. 

You stroll through the hallways of the manor, taking small strides towards the familiar giant door with a board of your freshly baked bread balanced in your hands. You continue to hum a gentle tune as you got closer and closer to the door. Although, it may appear to other people that his wife was innocently barging into his office thus surprising him with baked goods made with love – However, unknowingly for them, you had other plans hidden up your sleeves.

“Kento,” your voice gentle as you call out his name, “I brought you something that I think you’d love!”

You open the door further, revealing your husband — as per usual — busying himself with his documents. Fatigue was plastered all across his face, though he tried his best to mask it, but the dark circles underneath his hazel eyes were of no help. You could tell that even his muscles had gotten sore from training and staying seated for long periods of time. You placed the bread tray in front of him, and you walked around the desk to stand next to your husband. 

“Thank you, honey,” He quickly thanks you, sending you a quick nod of acknowledgement. Your husband was in pure autopilot mode, his hand continuously signing the documents despite him slowly losing focus — desperately trying to keep them open rather than succumbing to slumber.

“You should take a moment to relax, Kento.” You say. Just as he is about to come up with some type of excuse as to why he shouldn’t take a break, you lean in closer to his ear. “Let me help you.”

Your hands travel up to his back, and you applied some pressure on his shoulders while you massaged him. Your husband releases a low groan when you apply even more pressure on a stubborn muscle knot on his shoulders. You smile when he relaxes into your touch, closing his eyes while he leaned closer into you as you massaged into his sore muscles until those pesky knots disappeared. “How do you feel now?”

“I feel much better,” Kento sighs, humming pleasantly, “ Thank you for the bread, too. I’ll make sure to finish it while I continue working.”

“Can’t your break be a little longer?” You probe at him, pouting softly. “I missed you.”

A sudden wave of boldness and confidence overtook your consciousness, and you brought yourself down on his lap, your arms snaking around your husband’s muscular shoulders. Kento looks completely taken aback, and you eat that expression up as if it is candy. 

 “Kento,” you begin, “can’t you see that your cute and loving wife misses you?”

You press your lips against his ear, before whispering: “I’ve been thinking about you so much, putting a baby inside of me.”

Slowly, you thrust your hips against his thigh, watching your husband in pure amusement as he attempts to keep his composure; his hand tightening on his pen, knuckles white. Almost immediately, you can feel him hardening underneath you, and you grinned almost immediately. Something about his reaction swelled your heart with pride, knowing that despite being busy you still, somewhat, had an effect on him. Even more, Kento was taken aback, completely speechless (and undeniably turned on) from his wife’s bold ministrations.

 “B-baby inside..?” His voice came out as a dry rasp, his eyes wide .

Before your husband could process anything else, he felt the weight on his lap disappearing, and he quickly stared up to watch you getting ready to leave. You fixed the wrinkles on the hem of your dress, trying to fight back the grin on your face after having just teased your usually stoic husband. He had always appeared so cool and composed, so watching him try so hard to keep his composure undeniably gave you some type of thrill. 

“Y/N?” He called out your name, looking visibly confused. Your eyes traveled down to your husband’s trousers, smiling innocently as you caught sight of the large tent growing between his legs.

“I almost forgot to mention, but the marchioness invited me to her manor for a tea party.” You said, attempting to stifle the giggle bubbling in your throat while your husband appeared flustered. “I won’t be back until tonight.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss on his lips, not before licking his bottom lip as you pull away. You were being far too mean with your husband, but you couldn’t help it — watching him slowly crack beneath your manipulation sent a shock of arousal straight between your legs. “Until then, promise me that you’ll finish the bread and take breaks when you need it, okay?”

Before the man could even muster a single response, you walked out of his office. Only two could play at this game, you thought to yourself as you closed the office door behind you.

Hours had already passed and you finished catching up with the noble ladies, exchanging goodbyes and letters before parting ways. It had truly been a while since you had last caught up with your friends. Nevertheless, the time spent at your friend’s manor was enjoyable, listening to all the spicy gossip while enjoying desserts and tea. 

The ride back home in the carriage is silent — the only sound present were the continuous patters from the horses’ steps. You stare outside the window, quietly watching the manor eventually disappearing as the carriage goes further away in distance. It is already a quarter past nine, perhaps the latest you have ever stayed out, and it is safe to assume that your beloved husband is probably resting on the sofa in his office again. 

You lean your back against the seat, pressing the side of your head against the window as your eyes begin to grow heavy, the distant sounds of the horses’ steps gradually lulling you into a short slumber.

“My lady, we’ve arrived.”

“Oh my, we’re already here?” You ponder to yourself out loud, groggily opening your eyes. You place your hands atop the coachman’s guiding you down the carriage, and you stare at the tall manor before you. Once you enter inside, you are automatically greeted with your maids ushering you to the bathroom with a change of clothes. Undeniably, you felt a little disappointed, as you believe that your husband had unknowingly proved your point from earlier — you, at least, hoped that he’d stay awake a little longer. You sink lower into the tub, blowing bubbles as you scrunch your brows together, the water hiding pouting lips. The maid had left you alone earlier, telling you that she’d return with a towel soon, but it’s been moments.

You glance around the bathroom, trying to decipher the exact location of your nightgown. Ah, it was on the stool, next to the door. If anyone had walked in on you grabbing your nightgown from the stool, the only thing they’d see is your wet and bare body. It shouldn’t be too bad, though —after all, it’s always been your maids coming in. Slowly, you stand up from the large tub, and you immediately shiver from the wave of cold air rushing to you,, cool beads of water dripping down your body. With careful steps, you make  your way across the room, your hand reaching out towards your nightgown. 

You suddenly hear a knock on the door, and you instinctively grab the gown to cover the front of your body. It must be the maid, you think to yourself and you try to mimic that of a stern face — however, you can’t bring yourself to be too harsh on a new maid, after all. You watch the door open slowly, and you tap your fingers against your elbows. “Hana, where were you all this… Oh.”

Almost immediately, your face is sent aflame and you scurry away from the door, your failed attempt of a stern persona pathetically crumbling away as the space revealed no one other than your husband standing in front of the doorway with a towel in his hand. Hazel eyes travel up and down your frame, his jaw tensing at the sight of your bunched up nightgown barely covering your body — hell, it didn’t cover anything, he stares longingly at your left breast deciding to slip out of the covers. He steps into the room and closes the door shut immediately, his eyes still locked into your frame and he stays silent. 

You press the nightgown against your body even more and you look away from his gaze, as if it could help hide your insecurities that are growing the more he stared and stayed silent. However, all that stops when you glance back at your husband and he gives you a come hither motion with his index finger. “Kento,” you say his name softly, “I thought you were asleep—”

“Come here,” is all he says to you, his voice low and baritone. You easily comply with his words, taking small strides to get closer to the male. “Hand me your nightgown.”

“I thought it was Hana that knocked,” you say quietly as you hand your husband your nightgown, further revealing your naked body. You can hear Kento’s breath hitch for a mere moment before he quickly regains his composure — however, it is already so fragile. He swiftly wraps the towel around your body before pulling you closer to him, his hands resting on your hips while he leans closer to your face with stern eyes. “You’re lucky that it was me, then. What were you thinking about going out of the bath like that? What if it wasn’t Hana or I that walked in?” 

“I didn't want to stay in the bath anymore, and I genuinely believed that my maids would be the only ones to walk in. Because of that, I didn’t feel too worried.” You answer your husband softly, squeezing his shoulder ever so slightly. “Despite you giving me a bit of a surprise, I can’t say that I’d rather have Hana come here instead of you.”

“Is that so? That’s a relief, then. I did tell her that I’d take care of the rest and she could rest for the night.” He hummed, before lifting you up in his arms without any warning, immediately eliciting a surprised gasp from your lips. 

“W-what are you doing?” You question your husband, stammering as you instinctively place your hand onto his chest. 

“You know, after you played your little game earlier, I wasn’t able to do my work properly.” says Kento, opening the bathroom door. “I believe you should bear some sort of responsibility, no?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter under your breath, masking a soft grin as you nuzzle your face into your husband’s neck.

 “Putting a baby inside you,” he says, a slight strain present in his baritone voice as he continues walking down the hall with your towel-covered body in his arms. The walk down to your shared bedroom feels like an eternity has passed, the sounds of his footsteps resonating across the quiet hall. You want to question him where the rest of maids and butlers had gone but you relented, your body tense under the man’s carnal gaze.

“If fucking a baby inside of you is what you want, then it’s what you’ll get. It’s what my sweet wife asked for, after all.”

“H-Honey, what are you—?” 

With one hand, Kento swiftly opens the bedroom door. You let out a small shriek when he throws you on the soft mattress of your king-sized bed, his large hands pinning your hands above your head. He has this carnal glint in his amber eyes as he stares deeply into yours, it was as if all his self-control was beginning to crumble right before your eyes — you’ve never seen him like this; a cool, composed and reserved man looking so disheveled above you—his dress shirt buttoned loosely, revealing his collarbones and the evident incarnadine flush radiating onto his cheeks. Truly, it is a delicious sight to behold, and the wetness dwelling between your legs only seems to grow the longer you stare at the man.

 “What a lewd woman, you are.” He mutters, his grip on your wrists tightening while his other hand trails down your chest, slowly pulling the towel down. “Was my sweet wife having fun playing teatime after leaving me to take care of this?”  

Before you can even utter a word, a sudden gasp leaves your lips when Kento grinds his hips against yours; the delightful friction of the erection growing in his trousers rubbing against your clit, your back arching in hopes to get more. “I missed you,” you say between heavy breaths, “I missed you so much—Ah! Y-You’ve been so cooped up in your o-office lately and ngh..”

Your words were cut abruptly by his lips, teeths clashed and tongues intertwined while his rough and calloused fingers trail up your torso, towards your bare chest in a teasingly slow pace. A muffled moan leaves your lips, only to be covered by your husband’s lips, as he teases your already erect nipples.

 “Tell me more,” said your husband, his lips leaving yours. 

With heavy eyes, you watch Kento’s lips trail to where his hands once rested. His tongue swirls around the mound before sucking on your skin harshly, and you rest your fingers tangled in his blond locks as he continues to elicit those cute sounds coming from your swollen lips.

“You’ve been so busy with your duties as the duke, and—Mhhm..!—I-I’ve been feeling so alone these many nights while I longed for you, so so desperately. I love you so much Kento—Ah!” You mewl out those words in unadulterated wanton, your voice all shakey, it almost sounds embarrassingly pathetic when your husband is doing nothing more than teasing your breasts rather than fucking you relentlessly in the mattress. You can barely care less about how you sound though, because his lips and touch alone are enough to send you into ecstasy. You want him to touch you more. The needy ache between your legs continuously grows more intense the longer he teases you. 

“H-Honey, ‘want more. Please.” You beg your husband, your fingers desperately trying to unbutton his wrinkled dress shirt. “I need more of you.”

Kento doesn’t reply back, continuing his little ministrations on your neglected mound. It is adorable seeing him so focused on pleasuring you, but the heat you feel in your pussy feels too overwhelming. You push your husband’s head away from your mound, his lips leaving your skin with a soft ‘pop!’ He glances at you questioningly.

It was a bold and sudden decision that you had made on a whim out of sheer desperation, but his reaction made it all the more worth it. As soon as your fingers leave his half-buttoned dress shirt, you hook your arms underneath your knees and spread your legs open, revealing your cunt drenched in your desperate juices. “Kento, I mean it when I told you that I wanted you to put a baby in me.”

His mouth is left agape at your sudden boldness, his eyes fixated on the juices slowly dripping out of your hole — his breath gets stuck in his throat as he watches your small fingers spread your pussy lips apart. “Kento, touch me. Please.”

“Shit.”

It is almost as if the string has finally snapped inside of him, because before his mind can even start to think properly, his hands are on your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart as he begins the merciless assault on your dripping folds; his tongue lapping at all your wetness as if he was animal thirsty for water. Kento almost groans at the way his finger stretches your pussy, his finger sliding in almost immediately due to your juices. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “you’re so wet for me.”

He slides his index finger in and out before adding a second finger to the mix. He starts off slow, but his pace gradually quickens to that of which is considered merciless. The sounds of your wet cunt getting demolished by his fingers echoes in the grand room, along with your cries of pleasure. Your hips thrash against his fingers, and you can feel the sensation of pressure that was building up in your abdomen intensifying the more that he pleases you with his large fingers. Within less than a second, you cum intensely around his fingers, a loud moan erupting from your throat as your body slumps against Kento. 

‘His fingers feel so much better compared to my fingers,’ you think to yourself as you try to recover from your first orgasm. 

While you attempt to catch your breath, you glance back to Kento only to watch him undress with your mouth salivating. It’s already a given that your husband would be incredibly fit as he often trains with the knights and hunts (while not forgetting the night you had consummated with him in the dark the past few months ago — you felt every crevice of his muscles) — but now, seeing it up close and so clearly — he is truly a sight to behold. You reach your arm towards his chiseled abdomen, your fingers drawing hearts across his skin, and your eyes travel lower past his abdomen; staring intently at the huge tent growing beneath his underwear. You want to get fucked by this man already, so so bad.

“Kento,” you say his name softly, tracing your fingers along the outline of your husband’s clothed erection before trailing back up to the waistband, tugging it down slightly to expose more of his v-line. He tugs his boxers down completely, and your mouth immediately waters at the exquisite sight. He is a lot bigger than you had remembered.

When he slowly rubs the tip of his dick against your folds, shivers trickle down your spine as you raise your hips to meet his, attempting to get him inside. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles, his voice hoarse. “Look at you all spread open for me, desperate to get a taste of my cock.”

He slips his tip in, eliciting a sharp breath past your trembling lips, and then he pulls out. You whine out his name in a bated breath, your cheeks flushed in an incarnadine hue. Kento spares you a soft smile, almost as if it was mocking you, before he fills your hole up to the very brim — splitting your pussy open. 

“Oh fuck—Kento!” A scream slips past your lips, your eyes scrunched shut as a huge wave of pleasure rushes through your veins, sending goosebumps on your skin. Your husband is relentless with his movements, your legs spread apart by his strong grip.  The sounds of his skin slapping against yours along with cries of his name resonates across the bedroom, coupled with the intense squeaking from the mattress. “F-Feels so good—Ahn! Please—Please don’t stop—Oh!”

“You dirty woman,” Kento sneers, “we’ve just started and your pussy’s already so greedy for my cum by how tight you’re squeezing me. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get my sweet wife pregnant—filled with all my cum.”

With that, he spreads your legs even wider and leans his torso closer to yours; his face merely centimeters away from yours. “I can feel you getting tighter,” He says, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “you’re getting real close, hm?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to properly reply though, as he trails his one hand down to your clit and rubs rough circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a silent scream—your mouth agape and eyes rolled back as you ride out your orgasm, arching your back against his chest. 

You are barely given enough time to recover when Kento returns to work, his lips instantly connecting to yours while he thrusts his cock inside your sopping hole with a stuttering pace. His hands travel up to your breasts and gives them a harsh squeeze, the pace of his thrusts quickening. Your husband looks utterly delectable, his face scrunched up as he focuses on your pleasure, small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Pleasure fills your veins, and your cries only increase in volume the closer you are to reaching your second orgasm. 

Thoughts of you being all plumped up and pregnant play repeatedly in his mind, and it merely ignites his desire to pump all his cum into you. Breaths ragged, he stuffs his head into the crook of your neck, nails gripping into your hips as he continues to plummet into you. “K-Kento—!” You wantonly whine out his name, wrapping your legs tightly around your husband’s hips. “Cum inside me—please. Want your kids so bad.”

How can he not cum? Especially when the sight of his sweet wife being drunk on his dick is right before his eyes. With a groan (combined with a growl) of your name along with a string of curses leaving his lips, he stiffens up inside you; warm ropes of his cum coating your walls white. 

Upon pulling out, he watches large beads of white leaking out of your hole and he sticks his finger inside, pushing his cum back inside. You released a soft sigh in pleasure, your legs slightly twitching at your husband’s touch. 

“How are you feeling now?” Questions your husband, Kento. You reach your arm out to his face, your thumb tracing light circles on his cheekbones. 

“I’m a happy, happy wife,” you reply to him, laughing softly before leaning into his lips, giving him a soft peck. Kento chuckles lightly into the kiss. “Was I too rough with you?” He asks you once more, and you shake your head immediately.

“I think I’ve realized just now how much I enjoy being manhandled by you,” you reply back to him, giggling. “Rather, I enjoy seeing this new side of you.”

Your giggles quickly gets replaced by a slight gasp when your husband suddenly adjusts your position, your face and chest now pressed against the mattress with your husband behind you, his hand lightly rubbing his erect cock. Swiftly, you turn your head to Kento, your mouth agape as you are just about to question him but the sting of his hand on your ass immediately erases all rational thoughts in your mind. Heat immediately rushes to your face once more at the foreign, yet pleasurable sensation. 

“K-Kento,” you are able to utter your husband’s name, your arms already feeling weak from holding yourself up from the mattress. A shaky breath leaves your lips when he slowly rubs his cock against you from behind, your ears picking up a hoarse chuckle.

“I never said I was done with you,” Kento tells you, “not until I’m sure that you’ll get pregnant with all my cum."

© 6TORU do not copy, repost, or translate my works on any platform.

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated !

[goodgirlofglory]

A successful trial run/ One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 9,2k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, smut, making out, nipple-play, dry-humping, coming in pants hehe, me making up a lot of unconvincing sciency talk about tech and engineering and whatnot.

Summary: As a newly recruited scientist in the royal technical institute of Wakanda, your first task involves a certain Winter Soldier fresh out of cryostasis and in need of a new arm. Intrigued by his mysterious figure since forever, you’re brimming with fascination over the subject. Little did you anticipate capturing his eye in return. 

Note: This takes place somewhere between Captain America: The Winter Soldier and Avengers Infinity War. Kinda wanted to write something from the time Bucky spent in Wakanda. I enjoyed writing this one, hope you enjoy reading it😘 Likes, replies and reblogs are amazing. Luv you guys, you are the best, i am always so grateful and excited to receive all your feedback💕💕🦋

The first time the Winter Soldier entered the lab, he was flanked by the entire Dora Milaje and led by the king himself. Apart from the usual ceremony of greeting the king and his guest of honor, no one seemed jittered nor particularly preoccupied with the new project - or its primary subject. The engineers, scientists and technicians of the royal technical institute and Wakandan Design group were used to making much more extravagant and complicated designs than a prosthetic arm. 

It was a regular Tuesday for everyone - except you, that was. Extraordinarily gifted from a young age, you had quickly advanced and surpassed your peers and even superiors in your studies at the university of the capitol. Subsequently, you were the youngest person in the lab - apart from princess Shuri herself. 

And you were almost jumping out of your skin with excitement at having the Winter Soldier as your very first test subject. Or rather, you were on the team that was to build his next vibranium arm. You’d read all about him and watched all the news over the years, but you had started working in the lab after he’d been brought to Wakanda and put in cryostasis, so you’d never actually seen him in the flesh. Now he was out of cryo for rehabilitation and with that came the need for a new arm. Shuri had picked the team herself, and to your utter surprise, chosen you as a part of it. 

Your task was fairly simple: organize and execute the fitting of the prosthetic prototypes with the subject himself, take notes and report to the team whatever adjustments the soldier would prefer. The others would do most of the engineering, creative modeling and building - the more prestigious work. You didn’t really care that your tasks were relatively simple and low level though - it was an amazing learning experience for a newbie like you. Plus, it meant you were the primary contact person for the soldier himself, which had you flushing hot for both professional and decidedly less professional reasons. 

The soldier was an enigma; lethal chaos and extreme discipline spliced inside the body of what was once a regular American. His mythos was both intriguingly detailed and all at once a mystery - a sort of dangerous puzzle you couldn’t help but be drawn to like a moth to a flame. Everything he had lived and experienced and represented was so very very far from your own safe and mundane world. It wasn’t that growing up in Wakanda had been boring per se, but everything was just so… perfect, and despite yourself, you were drawn to the Winter Soldier and the extraordinary case of his unusual life. And from the moment you’d laid eyes on him, you knew you were out of your depth. 

He was beautiful - in a rugged, unpolished sort of way; raw and hauntingly real, he only seemed to move when it served the explicit purpose of his visit. Otherwise, he stood still as a statue. He had an air of mystery to him, but despite his huge, menacing and burly form, he wasn’t scary. His eyes were soft, the babiest of blue, his stubble revealed tiny streaks of silver, and his hair, though washed and groomed, had a consistently shaggy look to it that made him seem…human. Just another regular white guy to everyone else in the lab - the most intriguing person in Wakanda to you. 

Along with the king, the soldier had silently shaken the hand of everyone on the team, looking them in the eyes with a polite, though quite stoic expression that betrayed nothing of what was happening on the inside. You’d stared at him as he'd made his way down the line, scrutinized every inch of his face, trying to gauge the tiniest twitch of muscle, any indication or hint of emotion - to your utter astonishment, you could see nothing. Then he'd reached where you stood at the end of the line of team members, and your heart'd kicked into a sprint at the way he suddenly loomed before you in all his muscled, mystical and deadly glory. Holy shit, he was huge, surely a foot taller than you, with the most obscenely broad shoulders and thighs that bulged in a way that had your mouth going dry.

Get yourself together! Stop ogling the subject!, you had admonished yourself harshly.

By the time you got back in contact with your body and reached a hand out to him, your palms were sweaty and your face hot. And then, as he engulfed your hand in his pale, calloused one, hot like a multilayered sonic solar panel during july, you thought you saw a muscle near his eye twitch, catching your gaze the same way his eyes did a moment later when they glinted with something suspiciously alike curiosity, a flashing moment of undivided interest that had you flushing even hotter. 

Oh yeah, you were in big, big trouble. 

§

Three months later you no longer broke out in panicked sweating whenever Barnes came in for a fitting (most of the time). You’d had a total of four meetings so far, all of which had been professional, short and silent. Barnes hadn’t spoken more than a few words to you in all your time together in the lab, and none of them of much importance.

("Here?" he'd asked that first fitting when you’d asked him to take a seat on the surgical bench. 

"No" he'd said when you asked if the new fastenings at his shoulder were uncomfortable.

"Yes", he'd said when you’d asked if the first prototype arm was lighter than what he was used to.

Other than that, the winter soldier mostly communicated in grunts, nods and shakes of his head.)

The hiss of the sliding door alerted you to his arrival as you were readying the newest prototype for the fitting, and just like always, the door was the only sound even hinting at his presence. He was impossibly silent for a guy his size. 

“Sit down, please, I’ll be ready in a moment,” you threw over your shoulder, keeping your eyes on the clasps you would try on the shoulder today. 

When he didn’t answer and you could hear no sound of the shifting padding on the surgical bench, you threw a look over your shoulder and froze. 

Barnes stood by the bench, his one flesh arm raised high, fingers adjusting something on the…bun on the back of his head. His…bun of…gorgeous, thick locks of shaggy brown hair. You gulped, a tingling sensation of adrenaline starting to well up in your chest. He hadn’t worn his hair like that before, at least not around you, and man were you a sucker for a nice hair do on a man. Combined with this man it seemed to be suddenly and quite effectively lethal. His locks were collected and pulled away from his face, revealing high, chiseled cheekbones and a jawline that could cut diamonds and -

A screw fell out of your hand as your mind worked overtime to process the image before you, and then, so quickly you didn’t even see him move, the soldier was there, crouching at your feet, catching the screw before it could clink onto the floor. 

It felt like an eternity went by as you stared at his bent form slowly straighten up up up to his full height, the screw looking more like a grain of sand in his big, calloused and rough hand, his body so close you swore you could feel the warmth radiating off him. The lulling scent of fresh earth and spices filled your nose, taking you to luscious lands far away. 

You heard the hitch in your tiny, involuntary intake of air like a siren in a dead silent night, and your face blazed to a million fucking degrees, your heart galloping in your chest. Swallowing thickly, you looked up into his pale eyes - eyes that betrayed nothing in an equally neutral face. 

Fuckfuckfuck, he’s so close. Fuck, his eyes are so blue, shit, he smells good, is that freckles on his cheek bones - 

He held the screw out expectantly, and you mentally shook yourself for being so fucking slow. Stop ogling him! Take the screw! With fingers you were relieved to see didn’t tremble, you reached out and plucked it from his light grasp, furiously not hyperfocusing on where your skin grazed his. 

“Um,” you started, and painfully cleared your throat before trying again, cheeks burning, “t-thanks. Please, sit.”

He stayed unmoving for half a second longer than was strictly necessary, and then he turned and moved to sit on the surgical bench. 

Turning back to your table of tools, you took a few calming breaths, breathing as softly as you could in case the soldier could hear you (which he probably could quite well considering what you’d read about his enhanced body and senses.)

You turned back to find him watching you from a seated position on the bench, eyes following your movement as you walked up towards him, pulling your table behind you. You plastered on your best carefree smile and picked up the prototype vibranium arm, sleek black with silver accents, and like you always did, held it up so he could inspect it if he chose to. Like always, he didn’t seem remotely interested in the design. Only, he didn’t stare ahead out into the room like he usually did during these parts of the fittings. Instead his eyes remained on you, his form so fucking unmoving he could be a statue. You swallowed thickly, absurdly nervous. His scent still lingered in your mind. 

He’d removed his shirt, revealing the new shoulder prosthesis in the same black as the arm, fitted to mold over his scarred tissue and make a clean transition from steel to skin. Your eyes caught on the tiny sliver of golden, muscled skin peeking out from where his white t-shirt had been cut above the shoulder, and you quickly averted your gaze even as your mind started conjuring images of wide expanses of soft, golden skin under the tips of your fingers as you explored under rays of soft, morning sunlight. 

Why did he have to look so god damned good, with his stupid hair up in a stupid bun and stupid t-shirt that dared show even a square centimeter of his stupid skin, you thought perturbed as you started fitting the arm to the shoulder, hands working on autopilot while your mind frayed at the edges. 

All through the fitting, you felt his eyes linger on you, not staring per se, just…observing. Three times you peeked up from your work to catch his eyes on yours, and three times you hastily averted your gaze back, your cheeks heating anew, your heart picking up speed. He’d never done that before. He’d always just stared at the floor or the wall during his fittings, eyes vacant, seemingly far far away. He’d never been fully present, never watched you, very rarely met your eyes. It was what had kept your own visceral reactions to such a minimum you could easily manage them. But now, under his weighty gaze, your body started tingling all over, sweat gathering on your brow, your breathing going just slightly too fast. You didn’t know if it was excitement or some instinctive fight or flight-reflex kicking into gear. Why was he looking at you like that?

“There,” you said just a little too hastily when at last the final screw was in place. You retreated to the other side of the room under the guise of organizing your tools back into their rightful place on the wall. “Please test it out, feel how it fits, tell me how it feels,” you said with your back to him, reciting the instructions you always gave him during this part of the fitting. Usually, you observed him closely as he walked around the room, lifting the arm, flexing the fingers and grabbing at random objects to test grip and reactivity. Now it was all you could do to not flee the room all together due to how embarrassingly flustered you were. The fittings in themselves weren’t really necessary from an engineering perspective - the royal technical institute all but guaranteed the highest mark of quality and a near zero percent chance of faults. The fittings were more beneficial from a psychological point of view - to give the subject a smooth transitional introduction to their new limb. 

You heard him shuffling about for some time while you randomly moved tools and screws around your table while trying to collect and promptly ban all the inappropriate thoughts running wild in your head. It was so unprofessional to be affected like this! Sure, he was handsome (wildly so) but you couldn’t call yourself a proper scientist if you acted like this! It was disgraceful! Even as you scolded yourself for being this way around the poor, innocent hunk - SUBJECT - your mind flooded with the thoughts you tried so hard to keep at bay. What did his hair feel like sliding through your fingers? Did he always gaze so intently? What would those eyes look like in dark rooms surrounded by soft sheets? What would that new metal hand look like wrapped around your - 

The sound of a throat clearing had you yelping - for fuck’s sake, girl - and whipping around to find him right behind you, looking down at you with that expression that betrayed nothing. 

You stared up at him for a moment, heart thumping in your chest, stunned to silence by his clear initiation of contact, and then abruptly found your sense. 

“Does it feel right? Is anything uncomfortable or -”

Your words died out as he extended the vibranium hand between you. He let it hover there, hand straight, expectant. You stared for a moment, and then praised yourself for daring to reach your own hand out to clasp his, a bit unused to the flip to using your left hand to shake his, hoping to God this was what he was getting at and that you didn’t just make a fool of yourself. 

Your interpretation was correct, and the smooth, slightly cold metal closed around you, dwarfing your hand. The soldier squeezed your fingers and then shook your hand a bit stiffly a couple of times before stilling. You gulped, acutely aware of your heartbeat running a gallop in your chest, the silence around you so severe you could hear your own breathing like a wind tunnel. The feel of the vibranium, so alive in this form and shape, squeezing your fingers in a firm, unyielding grip had new, strange sensations slowly trickling south, and you fought the instinct to clench your thighs as unwelcome heat pooled in your lower stomach. Mortified by your own, inappropriate and decidedly unprofessional reaction, you hoped to all the dead kings and Bast herself that the soldier didn’t notice. Disturbingly, there came no sound from the soldier, not even from his breathing. 

After a moment of nothing happening, the both of you just standing there, clasping hands, you dared a peek up at his face. He was watching you again, but instead of pale, dead eyes, the blue of his irises simmered with something…something hot and wicked and - 

You abruptly pulled your hand out of his grasp, and gave him a far too fake gleeful smile. “Good grip,” you jipped, voice coming out far too strained and shrill to be casual. Barnes looked at you with those captivating eyes for a moment longer before looking down at his vibranium hand, flexing the fingers a little. 

“It’s perfect,” he said. 

It took you a moment to register the words, and then elation swept through you. You smiled and clapped your hands together and spun to go note his comment down.  “How wonderful, I’m so glad,” you said, not able to keep the excitement out of your voice.  A happy subject meant you’d fulfilled your task! The project could move onto its final stages of rendering and documentation. Happy progress!�� You scribbled down some fast notes on the screws and fastenings, how he’d tested grip by shaking your hands and his own feedback, putting his exact words down as a quote. 

“The team will be so happy to learn you’re satisfied, they talked so much about the latest updates on the interface between sensory input and mechanical automobility - they wouldn’t shut up about it for days, I swear to Bast,” you said, the words falling out of your mouth in your excitement, and then you turned back towards him and again fell silent. 

He was staring at you, and for the first time, you could actually detect emotions on his face. He looked…dumbfounded, or something akin to that, watching you with avid eyes, mouth slightly open and brows for once out of their trademark downturned frown. You were stunned yourself for a moment seeing him so out of character, and then you promptly lowered your gaze. 

Oh great, first you’re fumbling and awkward and then you start rambling like a lunatic. What is wrong with you?, you asked yourself silently.  You cleared your throat and motioned for him to sit back on the bench. He obliged, and you found yourself slightly disappointed to see him schooling away his emotion behind the stoic mask. 

“So, I’ll have to take the arm off so it can be finalized, and then you’ll just have to have it fastened a final time, and then you’ll have your arm, Mr. Barnes,” you said as you got to work unscrewing and removing the prosthetic limb. He nodded, eyes glued to you like before. He didn’t seem happy, or if he was, he didn’t show it. You hoped he’d feel elated like you did, but considered how the whole metal arm thing might still be a little complicated for him. You wondered if he was going to a therapist, or a support group or anything. You didn’t dare ask, though. “I imagine the finalizing process won’t take much more than two weeks. I’ll send you a suggestion for the next appointment once it’s clear, and you can confirm using your compad like before. Sound good?” you asked, thankful you could keep a clear head through this part at least. 

“Yes,” he said, still watching your eyes as you removed the arm and returned it to the table. You nodded to him, and managed to stay upright until the door hissed shut behind him as he left. Then you curled into a mortified little ball and hid your flaming face in your hands. 

§

Fucking. Great. 

Your heart had been hammering harder for every mile that passed as your cruiser made its way into the heart of the Wakandan landscape. The prosthetic arm had been finalized within a couple of days and your superiors thought the best course of action was sending you out to fasten it instead of demanding Barnes make his way into the capitol on such short notice. Which meant you were on your way to his home, to be completely alone with him…in his home.   

Part of you was insatiably curious to see how he lived, to peer into such a private, revealing place. Everyone knew seeing how a person lived was like seeing a reflection of their soul. Your apartment for instance, was a hot fucking mess, but one you could navigate perfectly. You hadn’t allowed yourself to picture Barnes’s home, though, or make any assumptions. How he lived was of no scientific interest, and therefore no interest to you! Or so you told yourself, at least…

It’s fine. Everything is fine, you chanted in your head as the cruiser arrived at its destination, the small hut Barnes had been gifted as his indefinite residence. It was a beautiful place to keep a residence, right by the river, the surrounding trees providing plenty of shade from the hot sun and a gorgeous view over the plains. It only made you more curious about Barnes, and subsequently, more furious with yourself. 

Everything is fine. 

As you shut the motor down and climbed out of the vehicle, his large, burly figure emerged from the hut, and a spike of energy went off inside you as you locked eyes with Barnes. He was as stoic as ever, but he walked up to meet you right away and surprised you when he reached to grab the case with the arm in it to carry it for you. 

“Hi,” you said, and quickly added, “um, thanks for being available at such a short notice.” 

You’d felt kinda foolish for giving such a roomy deadline prognosis at his last fitting only for it to take a few days, and were sweating with the hope it hadn’t inconvenienced him in any way. There was a whole delicate, psychological process involved in getting a new limb - a process one shouldn’t meddle too much in - especially when there was significant trauma involved in losing the original limb. Fuck, you were so nervous.

He looked a bit puzzled for a moment, brows drawn down in consideration. 

“No. Thank you for coming all this way,” he said a bit haltingly, and to your astonishment, he sounded almost as unsure of himself as you felt. Uncomfortable warmth spread in your chest. That must have been the longest sentence he’d ever spoken to you. His voice was low and gruff, a smooth rumble that seemed to vibrate through the ground, across to you and straight into your chest. Fuuck, how were you supposed to survive that voice, and with him being uncharacteristically timid and polite?

Suddenly you felt like laughing. Here you were, both of you so awkward and unsure, and what for? This was a joyous occasion, for Bast's sake, and you were being silly! Forcing your nerves down, you leveled him with a smile. 

“Not at all. Let’s get that arm on, shall we?” you said, letting your actual excitement for the happening fill you instead. You were after all, genuinely excited to finally give Barnes his new prosthetic limb, and see him back to full mobility. 

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes fluttering around your face, and then abruptly stepped aside and gestured for you to proceed him into the hut. You obliged, holding your spirits high as you dared venture past the curtain and inside the hut. 

Barnes’s home was sparsely furnished but…surprisingly cozy. Brightly coloured pillows, blankets and tapestries lay everywhere, a window to the right letting in the bright, midday sun, casting a glowing light on everything. You recognised the patterns and color scheme from your own parents and grandparents houses, it was a traditional home in all senses of the words. You’d think Barnes would stick out like a sore thumb here, but really, he seemed to fit in well. There was a low table to the left with stacks of books and a mug on it, surrounded by more pillows and blankets. Your eyes caught on and swiftly ignored the cot at the back of the hut, made perfectly with a mountain of pillows. 

That’s where he sleeps. That’s where he rests. That’s where he’s most vulnerable. That’s where you would lay if he - NO!

Barnes squeezed around you where you stood just inside the entrance studying the space, and you quite viscerally realized how small the hut was for the two of you, how small it was for him alone really. This was gonna be way more tight and intimate than the lab, you thought with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Barnes put the case down by the low table and proceeded to start clearing the table of books and pens and the mug. He looked down into the mug and then over at you. 

“Coffee?” he asked, and taken aback by the unexpected question, you shook your head quickly before immediately regretting it. It would’ve been more polite to accept, and you did feel a bit strung out by your morning so far. 

Barnes nodded in response, and then seemed at a loss, turning the mug in his hand. Was he…fidgeting? 

“Where do you -?” he started, and you cut him off. 

“Right there is fine. We can sit on the floor, no problem,” you said reassuringly, giving him another smile, suddenly filled with sweetness for this big hulk of a man and his nervous fidgeting. He nodded and proceeded to plump down where you assumed he normally sat. You quelled a smile at how normalcy seemed to bleed through even this exceedingly awkward situation, and was kind of enamored by the way Barnes seemed to relax once he was seated in his usual spot. It gave you the impression that this space was a comfort to him, which you were glad to see. 

You neared and sat down on your knees at his side, opening the case and swiftly taking out everything you needed as he took off his shirt to reveal the same t-shirt he used to wear underneath, sleeveless on the left side. Without further ado, you started the process of permanently fastening the arm. You slipped into a calm concentration as you worked, the familiarity and comfort of your skills calming you, a comfortable silence descending upon you both, only interrupted by the sounds of your electric screwdriver. The whole thing took no longer than ten minutes, and then you sat back and looked upon Barnes in silence as he took in his new arm, knowing it was finally, and wholly, his. 

He stared down at it for a long while, and then the hut was filled with sounds of gentle, almost silent whirring as he started flexing mechanical muscles, then fingers, then the whole arm, lifting it to examine and compare to his other arm, running them both through his loose hair and picking up different items on his table and tossing them lightly from hand to hand. He seemed completely engrossed, and for long minutes it seemed almost like he’d forgotten you were even there as he explored his new arm. 

It was awe-inspiring to see, to be allowed to observe such a vulnerable moment, to witness him seemingly letting himself really connect to this new possibility of having two arms and two hands again, in a way he hadn’t even seemed to entertain while in the fittings. It touched something deep inside you, witnessing with honor what you hoped might be a moment of healing, and tears pricked the back of your eyes. It felt so incredibly moving to be part of a team that could give something like this to a person who’d been through so much hardship, and the feeling filled you, making you feel all warm. This was why you’d gotten into this field, this was why you wanted to be a scientist. To be able to help people recover precious things lost. 

Your heart swelled with emotion, and then Barnes looked at you, his own astonished joy blasted clear across his face, completely unencumbered, letting you see it without any pretense or facades. Your breath caught in your throat at the sheer volume of his joy, and how intimate him sharing it so openly with you was. You were stunned. 

And then you kissed him. 

One moment you were looking at his broad smile full of slightly crooked, white teeth, and then you’d leaned across your own knees and half across his and unceremoniously pressed your lips to his. It was closed-mouthed and a bit off-center, your bottom lip caught awkwardly on his top one. But sparks crackled through your body all the same as you felt how soft his lips were, how warm his skin was, the slightly surprised gust of warm, gentle air from his nostrils. 

And then your senses kicked in, mortification hot on their heels, and you broke the kiss abruptly, all but ready to flee the hut. You didn’t get the chance to move away though, before cool metal fingers slid up the sensitive skin of your throat and back to cup your neck, gently, but firmly pulling you right back into the kiss.

A fire caught in your loins, sizzling hot sparks shooting up your body and you drew in a shaky breath through your nose only for the air to be caught in your throat, making a small, needy, desperately embarrassing sound. The metal fingers on your neck tightened at the sound. 

You felt completely blown off your center. Nothing had felt this good before, nothing in your whole, perfect life full of joys and pleasures and fulfillment had felt so sensationally good as James Buchanan Barnes's lips on yours while his brand new prosthetic hand cradled your neck.

The surge of desire that welled from that feeling propelled you to buck forward and crawl into his laps, straddling him with even more clumsy frenzy as you kissed him again. He answered in kind, his flesh hand landing tentatively on your hip before moving up your back to pull you tighter against him once he seemingly caught on to the fact that you were there in his lap of your own fruition. 

You kissed again and again, hungry, exploring, closed-mouthed but growing more desperate, more daring. You opened your mouth to catch your breath and was met by the shy swipe of his tongue just inside your mouth, and your whole body shuddered at the sensation before you wrapped your arms around his neck and swiped your own tongue to meet his. 

A growl came out of nowhere and exploded in Barnes’s chest as you tongue-kissed him with everything you had, and then the world was spinning, and your back hit the brightly earth-coloured rug. Barnes followed you closely, and laid down on top of you, pinning you down with his huge, burly body, claiming your mouth in an honest-to-Bast breath-taking kiss. 

It was explosively good, this gorgeous, muscled beast of a man pinning you to the ground, broad shoulders shielding you from everything above, leaning on his elbows while his hands cradled your face, holding you perfectly still as his mouth descended upon yours again and again, growing hungrier with every kiss. Your mind whirled with images of his metal arm wrapping around your throat, pinning you down, tearing your clothes to shreds and holding you put exactly where he wanted while the soldier ravished you, and it became even harder to pull air into your flaming lungs. You heard yourself whimpering into the kisses, your own desperation growing like a galloping crescendo inside you. You were suddenly, unexpectedly, and totally irrationally ready for him to tear your clothes off and take you right there on the floor of his hut, heat flaming in your lower stomach, a molten ache starting to let itself be known between your legs, everything else in the world be damned and forgotten if you could just feel him ins - 

A small beeping sound cut through the fog of desire overtaking you, and it took you a moment for your melting brain to recognise it as your pager. You wrenched out of the kiss and put your hands on Barnes’s broad, warm chest, feeling his strong heartbeat jackhammer beneath the layers of clothes and flesh. His lips followed you for a split second, his eyes opening to slits in order to find you again. Then, as he realized you’d intentionally ended the kiss, he immediately let you push him half-way off you to fish the pager out of your pocket. It was your boss, they needed you back by lunch. 

Fuck

Fuck, what the fuck were you doing? It dawned on you the incredibly inappropriate situation you were in, had put yourself and Barnes in. This was reckless and rash and completely not who you were or had ever been. With anyone! No, no, no, this was bad, you were so fucking stupid. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes as you pushed him gently all the way off you to sit back on his haunches and swiftly extracted yourself from under him and got to your feet. 

You were mortified, absolutely mortified, shame and embarrassment and guilt washing over you in tidal waves, slamming into your chest. 

“I’m so sorry, that was so…um…I have to go, but er, enjoy your hand - ARM and hand,” you sputtered out as you began fleeing the hut all together. Then you remembered what you were supposed to say upon leaving, and turned while halfway out the door, “If you have any trouble or complications, don’t hesitate to contact the institute. On behalf of the technical institute and design group, we hope you will be pleased with the product. Um, bye!”

Barnes remained in the same seated position on the floor while you made your stumbling exit, and you missed the look of longing in his eyes as you left. 

§

A week passed while you marinated in your own embarrassment and guilt, trying and failing to get the whole incident in the hut out of your mind. Partly because it was the most unprofessional and out-of-control thing you’d ever done, and partly because you just couldn’t get the memory of Barnes’s lips out of your head. The warmth emanating from him like a furnace, the way his hands gripped you gently, but possessively, the thrill that had gone through you when he flipped you and pinned you to the floor like you were nothing more than a rag doll. Had he been as turned on as you? Had he enjoyed himself? Surely he’d enjoyed it a little bit with the way he’d reciprocated, but had he really wanted it?

You shook yourself out of your daydream for probably the dozenth time that day, not a single word written on the personal essay you were to turn in with your other documentation in a couple of days. Fuuuck, this was so bad, you had to be able to focus and put this from your mind! If you were lucky and if everything went as it should with the prosthetic, Barnes would have no reason to contact the institute and seek you out ever again, and you would never have to see him again after your blunder. 

The project would be over soon, you would move on to new ones and the one tether you had to Barnes would be severed. It was best for everyone if you just forgot the whole thing. 

Except, in your panicked flight from his home, you’d completely forgotten the case that had contained the prosthetic arm, along with some screws and your most beloved screwdriver. You hadn’t even noticed it was left behind until you were halfway back to the lab, and had been completely at a loss on what to do. You couldn’t go back after the way you’d left, but you couldn’t just leave it either. The equipment wasn’t of that much value and the lab had plenty more, so that wasn’t the greatest issue. But you loved that screwdriver, and felt it as an obligation to retrieve it. Plus, it wasn’t fair to just leave it there, in Barnes’s home, what use did he have of it? Still, you couldn’t bear the thought of going back after the way you’d left….

Your head thumped down onto the workbench at the back of your lab. You were spiraling down the rabbit hole of warring thoughts for the upteenth time that day and was about to hurl something at the wall when the clearing of a throat came out of nowhere. 

Whipping your head up, you practically leapt from your chair when you saw Barnes standing  in the middle of your lab, clad in light pants and a loose-fitting half-sleeved shirt, completely unexpected, looking exceedingly unsure of himself (...and obscenely gorgeous)

Your immediate thought went to his arm, but as far as you could see, it was still intact and working perfectly from the way he clenched and unclenched the vibranium hand at his side. Then your eyes slipped to his other hand, and saw the case he held in it. 

“I, um, hello, I thought you might like this back,” he said, looking down and holding out the hand with the case. You immediately walked up to him and took it. 

“Thank you! So much, you didn’t have to come all this way just for that,” you rushed to say, feeling sheepish and grateful at the same time. 

“Oh no, I, uh…I…I have some errands in the… uh, the city and whatnot,” he said, and you almost smiled a little at the way he suddenly fumbled for words. Was this even the same guy that had pinned you to the floor and ravished your mouth a week ago? The same guy that had walked into the lab that first day, all menacing silence and calculated movement.

“Oh, okay, well, this was really nice of you, thank you again. Um, what did you say to the guards to get in here?” you asked, suddenly remembering the levels of clearing he had to go through to get here. Did he tell the truth? Would your superiors know you forgot the case? That you’d made a fool of yourself and made the whole institute look chaotic and unprofessional?

“I told them I had some more questions about the arm, and that I wanted to speak with you since you’re so knowledgeable and good at your job,” Barnes said, waving his metal hand in the air a little as if to show you it was indeed made of vibranium. 

He’d protected you? Kept your secret? A warm sense of giddyness spread through you, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling to broadly. 

“God, you didn’t have to tell them all that,” you said, feeling warmth bloom on your cheeks from his compliments. 

“I meant it, though,” he said seriously, and then he took a step towards you, “And I wanted to, needed to apologize…for what happened at my house…last week.”

Your heart surged in your chest and you couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. Apologize? What could he have to apologize for? You were the one who’d acted out of line. Did he regret what’d happened? What if you’d overstepped his boundaries and added more to his trauma?

“No, no, please, I’m the one who should apologize here. It was completely unprofessional to do that when I was working on a project with you, and so inappropriate to force myself upon you like that, all in this emotional moment and without knowing if you’d enjoy it or -”

“I enjoyed it,” he interrupted, voice clear and strong.

You looked up to find him another step closer. So big, and strong, and handsome, your insatiable desire whispered to you as he gazed down into your eyes, only inches between you. You wanted to kiss him again suddenly, your lips tingled with it. 

“You did?” you asked, only half paying attention as you lost yourself in his heavenly baby blue eyes, framed by thick lashes paled by the sun. Your eyes flicked down to his full lips, and when they went back to his eyes, they glinted with a spark of that same ferociousness that’d awakened in him on that floor in his hut. A glint that had your lower stomach going all molten. 

He nodded, breathing a little laugh that surprised you. Your heart started soaring in your chest despite your best efforts to keep from getting ahead of yourself. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, swallowing and licking his lips, “a lot. I, uh, I was really sorry to see you leave so abruptly too  - before I could speak with you,” he said. 

Arousal welled up in your body, and you felt a little dizzy all of a sudden. He’d enjoyed it…

“Me too,” you whispered, not trusting your voice not to crack. 

He took a final, tiny step closer, too close for any kind of professionalism or even decency, really, so close you could almost sense the atoms sparking to life in the tiny space between your bodies. Just like that, you were back in his hut, the moment swelling to level with the heavy, sizzling churn of when he'd flipped you to the carpet and caged you in underneath him. He had such a presence, his body thrumming with life and power and fuck, you wanted it on top of you. Again. 

“I’m relieved to hear that. And,” he said, slowly reaching his flesh hand to tentatively cup your neck, hot and possessive in one, tender gesture, his calloused thumb coming up to stroke over your jaw, the intimate touch sending fireworks through your nervous system, ”though I don’t want to disrespect your work ethic, I’d like to point out that we’re not working on the same project anymore, so if you’d like to -”

The case hit the floor with a loud bang the moment you wrapped your arms around Barnes’s neck and threw yourself into his arms, your lips meeting in a sizzling kiss. Barnes caught you around the waist and hauled you up into his arms, your feet dangling off the ground as he crushed you to his chest, returning the kiss tenfold. 

His tongue was immediately in your mouth this time, licking hot and wet and dominatingly over your own, and you whimpered at the sheer intensity, the way it blazed to a fire in your loins.

You clung to him like your life depended on it, and moaned into his mouth as you felt him turn and lower you to the bench in the lab, not letting much space get in between you before he draped himself over you and continued putting his mouth to yours. Your hands found their agency and started moving, mapping out his shoulders, feeling the muscle ripple under your fingertips as you caressed down his chest and around his sides to stroke his long, chiseled back.

His loose cotton shirt rode up as he moved to step further in between your opening legs, pressing himself closer, and your hands were unable to resist the pull as your fingers met the hot flesh of his lower back, stroking over silky smooth skin up again under his shirt. 

His whole body shuddered against you, a small gasp emanating from him as he broke the kiss, and your excitement went through the roof. You opened your eyes and stared at his expression going lax, eyes closing and mouth hanging slightly open as you continued your caress up his back. You hooked your hands over his shoulder and pulled him down to you again, nibbling on his lip before kissing his open mouth, your fingertips dancing in swirling patterns down his back. 

His body shuddered again. 

“Oh my god,” he whispered a little breathlessly against your mouth, mostly to himself it seemed, and your discovery made you almost feverish with desire. 

He was sensitive, and probably more than a little touch-starved. 

You brought your hands forward and found the top button on his shirt, staring to undo it as you breathed into each other's mouths. You’d gotten to the third one when Barnes gave a (admittedly adorable) little huff of impatience and pulled free to wrench his shirt over his head, revealing a sculpted torso right out of your wettest dream. You had to take a moment just to stare at him, hard abs, flat stomach, pecs that stretched into rounded, muscled, obscenely broad shoulders. Tight, sculpted muscles that shone in the dimmed, bluish fluorescents of the ceiling lights, one muscled arm with prominent veins running down to a calloused hand, one arm reflecting the lights in shiny, sculpted, black vibranium.

His chest rose and fell with his labored breath, his abs flexing, the muscles of his torso and arms tensing and shifting as he stood before you and it was just so different from the statuesque, almost frugal way he’d moved before, when he only exerted energy at the utmost importance. This man was alive in a completely different way. And he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you. 

You’d barely raked your eyes up to his and caught the feral glint in his eyes before he was on you again, ripping your lab coat open and sliding his hands up and down your sides. His touch sent shivers of warmth through you and you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you. That only seemed to spur him on. When his hands slid under the cotton sweater you wore, exploring the folds and dips of your abdomen, you shuddered. He was touching you like he hadn’t touched anyone before, all curious and explorative with just the hint of inexperienced clumsiness, fingers curious for such a mundane thing as the fold of skin over your ribcage as you lay there crouched beneath him. 

Bast, you needed more, his touch sending you into a frenzy. You wanted him, all of him. 

You started awkwardly extracting your arms from your lab coat, and when Barnes caught on, he was more than willing to help you shed it before his fingers went to the hem of your sweater. He paused then, and looked into your eyes for permission. You nodded, a bit eagerly perhaps, but whatever. 

He slowly slid the fabric of your sweater up your torso, and in a move more gentle than you’d anticipated from the way he removed his own clothes, he bent down and tentatively kissed your stomach - right on your tummy, soft kisses following the fabric up. It stole your breath away as you watched the movement avidly. 

He pushed the fabric all the way up over your bra, and reached with a curious hand to tug the cup down, revealing a hardened nipple. You were nearly shaking with want at this point, and shuddered embarrassingly hard when he took the nipple in his mouth and swiped his hot, wet tongue on it, nibbling gently and curiously with his teeth until you shuddered again.

You let your hands wander and found his hair, finally, finally getting to feel the soft, straight locks of hair sift through them, basking in the opportunity after having snuck peaks at it for months. It was even silkier than you’d imagined, despite its shaggy appearance. You combed your hands through his hair as he moved to suck on your other nipple, pulling the cup of your bra down to free your breast to the open air of the room. 

Scraping your nails over his scalp, you felt the way his form trembled atop you, and he almost purred, a deep, rumbling groan vibrating through you and into the very bench beneath you. You scraped over his scalp again and bit your lip as it elicited another rumble.

He let your nipple go, puffy and a shade darker than usual from his bullying, and you watched the string of saliva connect it to his lips with a blush burgeoning on your face. Oh, this might get filthy, you thought to yourself, almost embarrassed by how much you liked it when he closed the distance between you and licked into your mouth again, seemingly not caring about his spit getting everywhere, the kiss messy and wet. 

There was a tell-tale hard bulge pressing against the heated spot between your legs, and you rolled your hips down on it. Barnes gasped out of the kiss, looking almost shocked as he quickly looked down between your bodies to where he was pressed against you, and you wondered if he might’ve forgotten where all of these horny urges came from. You rolled your hips into him again, experimentally, and watched as realization hit him, as his eyelids drooped and a tiny groan escaped him. Then he rolled his hips to meet yours and it was your time to groan. 

“Just like that,” you whispered encouragingly, and met his gaze as he returned his eyes to yours, watching you intently as he rolled his hips again and again, grinding himself between your legs. 

He felt…big, to say the least, and he was grinding against your clothed clit in a way that you knew had you gushing into your panties. You could already feel the fabric getting soggy, sliding along your flesh as Barnes widened his step and grinded against you with more grounded precision. 

Fuck, it felt so good it was getting hard to think, and when his - oh god - vibranium hand slid down your side to grab your hip, effortlessly pinning you down into the bench so he could grind even harder against your core, the breath in your lungs fucking punched out of you. You knew just how much strength was packed into that metal arm. Knew there was a fine line between using too much strength and keeping you pinned firmly enough so you couldn’t move your hips an inch. Barnes traversed that line perfectly. 

Your pussy was on fire, the grinds of Bucky’s big, hard bulge against your clit too much while - simultaneously - the layers of clothes between you made it somehow not enough. It had been so long since you’d just frotted, clothed, like this, and you now wondered how you could’ve forgotten how fucking good it felt - or if it’d ever felt this good at all before. You seriously doubted it, for you couldn’t really believe it, but the rhythm and weight of Bucky's hips while his mouth lowered to mouth at your neck was somehow actually propelling you towards the edge. 

You tried to move your hips to grind back, to make him go faster, harder, but found yourself utterly - and deliciously - fully at his mercy as he nuzzled the crook of your neck and laved his tongue on your skin, tasting it in that fascinating curiosity of his. 

Fuck, it was right there, you could feel it, he was gonna make you come, you just needed a little more. 

Through the haze of your impending, building release, you could hear yourself start to whimper. Needy and a little embarrassing, the sounds escaping you despite you biting your lip and clutching at Barnes’s shoulders, barely holding on as he hurled you towards that precipice.

His face suddenly appeared from the crook of your neck, and it took you a second to realize he had a look of confused concern on his face as he looked down on you. 

To your utter distress, his hips slowed their steady, hard thrust against yours, and he gave you a once over you had a hard time understanding. Then it hit you that he must be concerned he’d done something wrong; that he’d mistaken your sounds of need for ones of pain or that you didn’t want it or something utterly ridiculous like that. Sweet, respectful, slightly confused and apparently wildly inexperienced man, you thought with an almost woeful endearment. You could feel yourself slipping further under the power of his spell as his eyes returned to your face, flitting about to try and decipher your expression.

That elusive orgasm you were dancing up to started to slip away as his hips grinded to a halt, and you reached out to cradle his face in near panic. 

“No, please, please, please don’t stop. It’s so good, please,” you practically whined, trying to move your own hips to get more of that sweet, intoxicating friction. You barely managed a little squiggle under the pinning strength of his hand on your hip and his body on top of yours.

A great gust of breath whooshed out of him, and he started up his rhythm again almost immediately, meeting your tiny writhing with thrusts of his own like he just couldn’t help it, and you threw your head back, biting your lip and nodding frantically as the pleasure built inside you again, picking up just behind where you’d left off. 

His hand, the one of flesh, slid up your torso to caress the exposed column of your neck, almost curiously, exploring, holding it in an almost tender grip as you moaned in delirium. His thrust grew harder, your moans louder and his hand gripped harder like he enjoyed the feeling of your moans being forced from you by his moving hips. 

You could tell the moment he started climbing his own precipice, how his movement grew more focused, more intent, leaving all exploration behind to chase a goal with an almost singular, feral possession. His breaths turned to gasps, which turned to grunts and then low growls. His movement turned frantic, almost feral in their one mindedness. He was losing himself to the pleasure and you whined, mind turning to slush under the onslaught of his ferocity. You were going dumb on his cock and he hadn’t even taken it out of his pants. Didn’t matter, you were done for. 

The wild, animalistic abandon with which he chased his own high was so blastingly hot it sent you tumbling over the edge almost entirely on its own. You gasped, your body tensing and then exploding under his as his grinding thrusts sent wave upon wave of searing, orgasmic bliss crashing into you, riding you so hard you nearly passed out. 

Your sight went blurry, blood roaring in your ears, but you heard the moment his breath caught in his throat, such a vulnerable sound, and then the bulge pressed to the sticky, clothed cunt between your legs started throbbing in an uneven, staccato rhythm, which you could feel against you even through the layers of clothing separating you. His grip turned to bruising steel and you gasped anew as the intensity of the pain mixed with your abating orgasm, making a shocking, intoxicating cocktail of sensation blast through you. 

He threw his head back, the thick column of his neck stretching taut, and growled like he was in pain, and it sent vibration straight through you down to the table beneath you. Fuck, he was like nothing you’d ever experienced - pure, raw power, lust, shocking honesty and a sense of almost ardent fascination - mixed together in this anomaly and mystery of a man.

It felt like several minutes passed as you tried to catch your breath and gather your mind from where it’d melted out of your ears to puddle on the bench around you. Bucky’s face had made its way into the crook of your neck, where he seemed just as slow and sluggish to come back down to earth. He was like a furnace on top of you, even hotter from his exertion, forehead damp and hot where it pressed to the sensitive skin of your neck. 

His weight on you was a comforting one though, making you feel safe and protected, covered and nestled into a cocoon of muscles and warmth and soft, puffing breaths. Taking a cheeky chance, you carded a hand through his hair, the brown strands soft, glinting in the fluorescents above as they shifted through your fingers. Bucky’s whole form shivered as you raked your fingernails along his scalp, and the bulge nestled tight between your thighs and his body throbbed once as he grunted softly, neck twisting to push his head into your hand, almost like a cat rubbing against your palm to get more scritches. 

A chuckle left your mouth as you kept carding your hand through Bucky’s hair. He looked up at you then, and the moment caught up with you. A blush had the audacity of spreading on your cheeks even after everything you’d just done. He looked into your eyes, silent but for your deep, still slightly labored breaths. You couldn’t help smiling. 

He looked a little dazzled for a moment, then a slow, beautiful smile spread on his own lips to answer yours.

"Um, it's been a long time, and I d-don't remember much, but I'm pretty sure this is not how you court a lady properly," he said a bit self-deprecatingly. You chuckled again, and he joined, his form vibrating with myrth. He made no move to get off you though. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I don't know, this doesn't feel too bad," you said, and you could practically feel the relief in Bucky as he let you keep him laying draped across you.

"Still. I'd like to take you out sometime. It was the real reason I came here, after all," he said.

You felt your smile turn wry.

"I thought you said you had errands...and whatnots," you said.

His gaze wavered for only a moment as he realized he'd revealed his own bluff. Then his smile grew sheepish, and so warm it sizzled.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

FANFIC POLL TIME!

Descriptions (because i NEED to explain things haha-):

CHOOSE WISELY

Of Bridges Built & Burned: Based off this clowning between me and @moodyseal

BUCKLE UP THIS GETS WILD READ THE LINK ABOVE FOR A MORE DETAILED EXPLANATION

TD;LR- Commodus and Apollo get to both scream about their relationship (because it's usually only Commodus who does that), Commodus goes off to sulk/stew over it while Apollo completes his trials, then post-ToA they meet again and have a Much Needed Talk

...and *sobs* go separate ways... *ugly sobbing* DON'T MIND ME-

you know you love the ship when you write them breaking up in the most heart-wrenching scenario possible.

but shh...i have another idea to do with this but that's for another time😈

The Art of War: I've been DYING to do SOMETHING with Apollo (Favorite Son™) and Ares (Failure Son™) and I have 3 whole scenes in different points of time now!!!

First is when Apollo's young and new on Olympus. He's been shoved onto Ares for the time being because in Ancient Greece, boys were raised by their fathers and girls by their mothers, and when the father was unavailable, it was the eldest brother's job to watch his younger brothers.

Second scene is during/post Ares's kidnapping by the giants! Some Apollo angst, Zeus being the best dad ever (not), and Ares not having a good time.

Third and finally, is a little conversation post-ToA between them :3

The Sun's Rise: At last! Out of the vault! The moment we've been waiting for! Starring our boy Apollo, Prometheus being Prometheus, and a guest star you all should know by now :3

Hyapollo Multific: YEAH YOU HEARD IT. FIVE CHAPTERS OF HYAPOLLO, WITH SIDE DISHES OF APRICITY, HYARICITY, AND ONE-SIDED ZEPHYRUS PINNING FOR HYAPOLLO. COME GET UR FLUFF-DRAMA-ANGST FEST

@hyac1nthus i know you'd want to see this >:3

Koios ToA: What the hell was Koios doing during ToA? This fic will play like a snapshot of what our favorite titan was up too. Questions will be asked, answers will be found, and oh boy Phoebe and Koios are gonna have a bit o' long-overdue marital strife.

Drunk Twins: literally what is says on the label. the twins get drunk and the Hunt has to call in the mama wolf for backup lmao

The Conspiracy of Rachel Elizabeth Dare: based on this post by @hogoflight and expanded upon here by me! Rachel Dare is a conundrum to her friends, and they put their detective hats on to solve the case!

ToA BuzzFeed Unsolved: The Queer Capers of Lester Papadopoulos and Meg McCaffrey: BUZZFEED TIME! We need ToA buzzfeed fics so here I am making one :3

Apollo V Orion fight (with a side-dish of Jupiter & Commodus): Exactly what it says on the label lmao I had three oneshot ideas and then I went "COMBINE THEM!!" so here is a oneshot with three different things in it making a cohesive story :3

A Radiant Light: Did I make up an entire backstory for one background character? Yes. Is that character Phoebe the Hunter? Also yes.

how to get your daughter to divorce your brother and marry your nephew: a guide by demeter: funny fic about Demeter trying to get Meg, Nico, and Will to help her convince Persephone to divorce Hades and marry Apollo. Based off one of my headcanons haha

👀 lookin' forward to a lot of these, hehe!

Tag list: @txny-dragon @solahflare @fuzzystudios @apollosothertwin @peishathebookity @reuben-7991 @allylyrac @the-summersun

[stxrvel]

the king (2)

series summary. y/n knew that her whole life was outside the Palace, but it was hard to resist when the Crown Prince had been chasing her for as long as she could remember. doomed to an end where everything she loves has to be abandoned, y/n is forced to restart her life far from her mother, her village that saw her grow up and the man she loves. who would've thought that loving would come at such a high price…

pairing. prince!jungkook x f!reader

content. english is not my first lenguage! violence. royal themes. be-heading is still spoken of in this kingdom, nothing that will materialize. yelling. a flashback.

a/n. hey guys! i forgot about this one hehe. i have some chapters already done, i'll try to post them soon. love yall <3

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

Jeon Jungkook had never thrown a tantrum since he was eight years old. His teaching was so strict being the heir to the throne that he had had to learn to tolerate many things and put up with others from an early age. Understanding the weight of what it entailed to be born with the title of “Crown Prince” had been one of the things that had taken him the least amount of time to grasp, but which he always questioned in the solitude of his room.

Jungkook had surprised his parents, understanding from a very young age the implications of his position and the responsibilities he was to assume in the future. That knowledge made him grow up lacking in many things, but with advantages in many others. By owning that awareness, Jungkook understood the weight on his parents' shoulders and knew that they must've had a difficult enough life for him to bother them with his childish mundanities. So that's how he grew up, for many years, trying to make life easy for his parents.

Usually, his mother used to use him as an example to his younger sisters on how to behave according to the title they held. His sisters never envied him, they really loved him, but Jungkook knew how much they hated not being able to live their childhood like all the other kids in town. And he hated that too, that they couldn't experience it, but he was relieved just to know that the big burden was on him and not on them. Expectations were always placed on him, the Crown Prince, the next King, and not on the princesses who only wanted to enjoy their life and childhood in the big castle. Still, Jungkook sometimes didn't understand why his mother demanded so much from his sisters when they hadn't grown up with the knowledge he was given. He hated the nights when Suni, the youngest of them all, would sneak into his room at night or search for him in the great Palace garden because eomma had forbidden her to keep stuffed animals in her room or because she got mad at her when she asked for more food at dinner.

Jungkook, for a long time, tried to make his parents' life a little easier.

But it infuriated him to think that they made his sisters' lives difficult in return.

So, for a change, Jungkook started throwing tantrums.

The first time he remembered it as lucidly as if it had been yesterday.

It was a sunny day in the square when he had gone out with his parents and two of his sisters. Their parents had dawned in a strangely good mood, so much so that they had decided to have a little family walk in the central point of town. Jungkook went with one of his sisters, Hari, making funny faces at his younger sister, Suni, behind his parents' backs, causing the little girl to laugh loudly. They were having such a peaceful and happy time that Jungkook couldn't believe it.

That is, until Suni saw one of the wooden toys they were selling in the square and began to pull her mother's hand. Hari and Jungkook stood silently, frozen, walking quietly behind their parents as they watched their little sister stir and pull harder and harder on the Queen's hand. They could barely go unnoticed�� when Suni began to cry.

Jungkook bit his tongue, and had the urge to move forward to grab his sister and take her back to the Palace, but Hari's hand wrapped around his arm kept him sane. Jungkook hadn't been through a situation like that, precisely why his parents didn't often go out with their children, so he had no idea how his parents would react.

The Queen continued walking, almost dragging her little daughter who wouldn't let go of her hand. People passing by her were barely able to give them a glance, hurrying their pace when the Queen's eyes fell on them. The square had fallen into a dull silence that was perturbed only by Suni's sobs.

Hari squeezed Jungkook's arm tighter as the Queen turned her face away to look at Suni, and they both watched their mother's tense face, no longer welcoming and peaceful as they had seen her in the morning. She was now only the Queen and Suni, her own daughter, was trying her patience.

The King walked silently by her side, not even bothering to try to calm his daughter or show his wife patience. He lived in his own world.

Jungkook felt a hand clutch around his throat as the Queen began to tug on her little sister's arm, to get her to walk back to her side without crawling.

He didn't think twice as he began to speak, and Hari's hand tightened around his arm.

“Eommoni,” Jungkook elongated his voice, a hint of weariness and exhaustion ringing in the Queen's ears. The woman barely glanced over her shoulder at him, and Jungkook took it upon himself to keep his face irritated like his sister Hari did when she had to eat paprika. “Suni is making too much noise and my head hurts.”

His little sister turned to look at him, her eyes red and cheeks drenched in tears. Her little eyes rolled down his face and she had one of her hands almost inside her mouth, as many babies did when crying. Jungkook could never shake that habit that his mother hated, no matter how much he told her it was normal.

“Can't we go home already?” Jungkook continued, shuffling his feet. Hari was as want as a stone beside him.

“Jungkook,” the King's voice was heard, a silent warning.

A shiver ran through the two brothers walking arm in arm, but Jungkook didn't budge.

“It's getting too sunny, besides, and I'm dying of thirst. Let's go now.”

The King stopped and the whole family along with him. Suni was now sobbing quietly, she seemed to be calming down at the sound of her brother's voice, but tears still streamed down her face.

“Enough,” the King bellowed, turning around to stare at Jungkook. “You are demonstrating unacceptable behavior for the Crown Prince,” he spat, then turned his face to look at the Queen and Suni, “Let's go now.”

Suni let go of her mother's hand and stood in front of her father raising her arms towards him with a grimace that made one think she was nothing short of destroying the mountains with a scream. The King sighed, but took her in his arms. Snuggling into her father's neck, Suni finally closed her eyes.

“I hope you are satisfied, Jungkook,” his father spoke again. “You'll see what awaits you at home.”

The King's punishment had been harsh, as usual, but Jungkook was glad he had used his influence over his parents because, the next day, Suni was in the family dining room with the wooden toy in her hands.

Thus, Jungkook began a streak of manipulation against his parents to ease his sisters' lives. Since they were always more concerned about the Crown Prince's behavior, it was easier to divert his sisters' attention to him.

And to this day, Jungkook hadn't stopped doing so. Every day with more reasons, with different arguments, even if it cost him his life. He wouldn't stop. For them… and for him.

He raised his head as the doors to the great hall opened and a familiar face peered between them. The King's Counselor was striding toward him, hands loosely at his sides, dark blue uniform neatly arranged and a calm expression on his face. Jungkook knew him better than he let on, though, and knew those eyes incited nothing but reproach.

“You're in deep trouble,” was what Kim Seokjin said as soon as he reached his side, his gaze hard but his eyes soft, concerned.

“I know.”

“The way you confronted the Queen…”

“I know.”

“She's never going to let you leave this palace.”

Jungkook twisted his lips and focused his gaze on anything else within the room. Since he had arrived at the Palace, walking shoulder to shoulder with his mother, with the Queen, the two of them split their path and Jungkook had wandered off to a quiet place in the Palace thinking that the argument would end there; that his mother would ignore him for days and make his life miserable while his father watched. But the King arrived within minutes and sent for them both to the meeting room.

Jungkook had been waiting there for about ten minutes, thinking about what they could talk about, what kind of punishment the King wanted to give him, what kinds of poisonous words his mother was going to spit out, when the counselor arrived.

“If I hadn't gone, she would've- she would've given the order and…”

He pressed his lips together in a line. The paltry thought that hovered in his head at the possibility chilled the blood throughout his body. The shiver that ran through him made him grateful he'd had the chance, but reminded him that from now on he had to tiptoe around his mother.

“Your mother wanted a show. She didn't want to kill her, she wanted to humiliate her. Destroy her honor, like she thought she had done to her, to the Jeon family name.”

“That's stupid,” Jungkook spat, anger rebirthing like flames inside his chest. “No one would've ever found out if it weren't for what she did. Now everyone will be talking about it. For weeks.”

“That's true. It was not a calculated move, the Queen acted through her anger. And the consequences will be severe.”

“And you'll hear her already, blaming me for everything. As always.”

Seokjin gave him a sympathetic look, his body leaning against the table in the center of the room. He had known Jungkook since the Prince had turned 15 and since then it had been very hard for him to keep his distance when Jungkook started seeing him and coming to him like a brother. Seokjin knew how hard life had been for the Prince, even if he didn't notice it, even if he had normalized living that way, even if he had become accustomed to the mistreatment. Seokjin saw through those eyes the longing of his inner child, the desire to be free to do whatever he wanted, whatever he couldn't do before.

The counselor had been a pimp, if he had to admit it. He couldn't give him or let him do many things without his parents, the King and Queen, finding out, and both of them being punished for it. Still, he tried to support him in every way he could, like excusing him when he wanted to leave the palace alone for a walk, or accompanying him to have his first beer at Fresh Air; it was almost a tradition in town for older brothers to take their younger siblings to try their first alcoholic drink at that bar, to share those moments together.

Just as he had been in so many stages of his life, he knew Jungkook had been taking too many chances the past few months. Years, even. Seokjin would allow himself to cut him a little slack whenever he could, help him with excuses to breathe easy, but he constantly wondered how long he could be walking quietly on a tightrope. How long it would be before the Queen's sharp actions would cut off that tiny thread of hope that Jungkook had been moving on for some time.

“Have you heard about Hari and Suni?” the voice of Jungkook boomed in the silence, a few seconds after he had uttered the last words. Seokjin raised his head to look at him.

“They were on their way, very close. They should arrive today in the afternoon or during the night.”

The Prince nodded, faint lines crossing his forehead.

“Good thing they weren't around to witness all this.”

“I don't think they can escape the days ahead,” Seokjin mused and Jungkook bowed his head in a nod, a grimace akin to helplessness crossing his expression. “And more so when the King sent for you two. He must be furious.”

“The calm he showed in the square was only the sheet of ice containing his anger. I doubt we'll make it out of this room alive,” Jungkook felt a shudder run through his body as he remembered the look his father gave the Queen when he ordered him back to the Palace with her. His mother was scary, yes, people were right to fear her, the anger was always evident and furrowed her expression without self-consciousness to the world. But his father was not, the King was better known for having an icy rage, for having a frightening calmness when anger coursed through his veins. His mother might be dangerous, but the King was lethal.

“Jimin and Yoongi tried to come as soon as they heard, but the royal guard barred their way. They were practically locked in the guest room,” Seokjin remarked as he remembered the looks of both men on the other side of the room. The door was open when Seokjin was crossing the hall and two royal guards were guarding it, as if they were some mercenaries who did not deserve any good treatment. He knew it had been the Queen's order.

Jungkook's beady eyes fell into disbelief when he heard the counselor's words. It must have been his mother's command, he thought rightly as he held back the urge to smash his palm against the walnut wood table.

Away from the fog of anger that had consumed his mind the past few hours, Jungkook took a moment to breathe. He hated what his mother had done, but he knew his friends were fine. But she…

“Did you hear anything on the way here?” Jungkook inquired, and Seokjin promptly knew what he meant.

“Nothing, everything was scattered when I arrived.”

A whiplash of fear and panic surged through Jungkook's chest. Not many times had he felt that kind of terror, the kind he thought he could only feel in his nightmares. And Seokjin knew the Prince must be dying of uncertainty inside, because he didn't bother in the least to disguise the emotions that traveled across his face.

“She should be fine,” the counselor assured him, though his words were an empty promise. “The King may turn out to be more merciful than you think.”

Seokjin didn't know if the King's mercy went that far, but he wanted to convince himself with his own words, for he wouldn't know how broken the already fractured family bond in that Palace would be if the opposite were true.

He didn't have much time to continue rambling when the sound of quickened footsteps began to echo from the hallway. Seokjin broke away from the table and approached the white wall, carved with lines on its columns, arches over the smooth walls, and undulating figures at the births of them.

The large oval doors of dark wood opened wide and the King entered without hesitation, the Queen walking behind him. At that moment, Jungkook didn't want to see them as father and mother. From the looks they were both giving him, the Prince almost felt that he would be the next to have a trial.

When the Queen was standing right in front of Jungkook across the table, the doors closed with a barely audible sound, and the room was taken over by thunderous silence.

“May I ask, what was on your mind?”

Jungkook didn't turn his gaze to the King. It was disrespectful not to look at him when he spoke, he knew it, every villager knew it, more so him being his son. But maybe he wasn't as prepared for that meeting as he thought he was. He didn't want to take the blame for something that wasn't a crime. Because he hadn't hurt anyone. Because…

“Are you talking to me?” the Queen's voice interrupted his train of thought, and he allowed himself at that moment to raise his head.

The King was watching his wife, who had a surprised grimace on her face in contrast to her father's impassive and cold look, the typical and familiar one.

“What were you thinking going out to do all this, Hyori?”

Seokjin didn't hide the astonishment that took over his face when he heard the King call the Queen by her proper name. It shouldn't be something to be missed, but he and Jungkook were used to formalities between the two supreme figures in front of them. That his father decided to set aside his formality to speak to the Queen in such a manner spoke too much of the anger he held in his heart.

“Why are you directing your anger against me? I wasn't the one who caused all this.”

Jungkook watched the Queen's frown, her face contracted in skepticism. She had adopted a defensive posture, truly offended at being the target of the King's anger.

“You were the one who caused all this,” the King nodded with anger rising in the glint in his eyes. “If you hadn't gone out and made all that fuss, we wouldn't be going through all this right now.”

“But what are you talking about?” the Queen exclaimed, and when she raised her voice Jungkook shrank back in his seat. He shot a glance at Seokjin, but it seemed that the counselor was just as confused as he was. “What don't you see that the reason for the fuss is sitting on the other side of the table?”

Jungkook didn't have to turn his head to know that his mother was pointing at him with a furious glare. But the King didn't even spare the Prince a glance when he responded:

“Stop pointing at your son like that,” he mumbled through his teeth, venom surrounding every word.

A sound of disbelief left the Queen, with a stupefied chuckle following her as she approached the King at a slow pace.

“Do you have any idea what your son did? What that woman wanted to do to our family?”

Jungkook gritted his teeth, his hands gathering on the wood of the table.

“And do you have any idea what that theatrics just cost our reputation? I had to meet with the high consorts immediately. They're not very happy with what you did.”

The Queen snorted not believing for a second that she was the one getting all the scolding and yelling and not Jungkook. Seokjin, secretly, wasn't too upset about it.

“Are you defending him?”

It was the King's turn to break through the icy mask, irritability seeping through his gut.

“What Jungkook did was minimal compared to what your show cost us. The high consorts are reconsidering their offers. They don't think it's very good for their public image to do business with a Queen who still does public executions.”

“They are not forbidden in our nation.”

“No,” the King nodded, “but they will be.”

Jungkook didn't disguise the gasp of surprise that left his mouth. Was he really hearing those words from his father…? The Queen spluttered, and the Prince turned to see her face contracted in astonishment… in betrayal.

“What your son and that woman did is unacceptable.”

“What Jungkook did or didn't do is what matters least,” the King mumbled, his glacial eyes roaming over his wife's face that would not leave her stupefaction.

“What are you saying? He was courting-!”

“I don't care,” the King repeated, his words stronger, more concise. “As long as it doesn't affect the Crown, what Jungkook does outside this Palace doesn't matter to me.”

Thunderous silence followed his words. Seokjin watched everyone present with utmost caution from his position. He might be a simple counselor, but he knew some self-defense tactics. Meanwhile, Jungkook was totally speechless. His gaze wandered over his father and then shifted to his mother's stunned look, an expression that hadn't left her since the King began speaking.

“You can't do that. You can't just not care…” the Queen was shaking her head in refusal, refusing to accept the words she heard from her husband's mouth. “You can't turn a blind eye to-”

“I already did,” the King spoke again and Jungkook did not miss the way his eyes averted for less than a second. The way he looked at him, the sad gleam in his eyes. Or well, sad was what he seemed to have seen, because the King's expression changed so quickly that Jungkook might have thought he had imagined it, if not for what he said next, “I already had.”

“What are you talking about?”

The Prince felt a hand squeeze his heart, trying to stifle it, to keep him conscious long enough to survive, but using just enough strength to feel death close. His lips parted as he watched the father who wouldn't look back at him, who was staring harshly at his mother as the only true culprit in this whole mess. No, the problem wasn't that Jungkook was trusting, not that he stopped paying attention, not that he had let his guard down…

“You knew,” Jungkook spoke for the first time. His voice came out slightly hoarse, his beady, disbelieving eyes glinting in the natural sunlight as his father gave him a neutral, dry, emotionless look.

“What?” the Queen's head turned sharply toward her husband, her eyes exaggeratedly wide.

Without looking away from his son, the King spoke, “Did you really think there was anything you could do in the Palace that I wouldn't know about?”

Almost out of sad inertia, with a whiplash of pain in his chest, Jungkook shook his head at the counselor. Seokjin half-opened his lips in surprise, but shook his head in a negative as he felt the deer eyes on him.

“Counselor Kim has nothing to do here,” the King spoke, his gaze still on the Prince.

“Your Majesty-” Seokjin tried to speak, but the King raised a hand in his direction.

“Not now,” his stern gaze was still on Jungkook, but he promptly turned back to stare at the Queen who seemed not to credit what she saw.

“You knew and… you allowed it?” the Queen's voice was barely a whisper, surprise taking all her breath away.

“I told you, she was never a threat to the Crown.”

“She wasn't a threat, she was a gold digger! She wanted all the riches Jungkook could give her!”

The Prince gnashed his teeth. His bite was so hard that it strained his jaw and a slight pain ran through his gums. He wanted his mother to stop talking that way, expressing herself that way, he wanted to say something to her, anything…

“That's what you made it sound like, making all this fuss. Now there's really no way of knowing,” the King replied impassively, though several muscles in his face were already beginning to retract.

“She was going to steal from us,” the Queen exclaimed in utter conviction.

“She was going to do no such thing,” Jungkook blurted out, his hand clenched on the table and the Queen's eyes exorbitant as she turned to see him as he answered her thus. It was an impulse, but he had done it, and though his instinct was to shrink from her gaze, he faced her and continued speaking. “She never tried to take advantage of me. She is a kind, loving, honest and a humble soul. All she wanted for me was happiness.”

The Queen snorted, interrupting him, and his assurance flanked. Jungkook didn't feel he was over, but the King took the floor again:

“You're going to have to apologize to his mother.”

“What?”

“I'm not going to bear such an embarrassment to someone who has provided us with her services.”

“I'm not going to do-”

“You will. And the next time you intend to bring a trial against someone, Counselor Kim will be only too pleased to give you a few lessons in law.”

And with that, the King left the room.

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Hello there^^

I saw that your requests are open so i wanted to give it a try. There are a lot of fics that show the reader and baldwin being in a relationship or it slowly developing into such. But i dont really see any fics containing what it was like before the romantic aspects ensued.

Which gave me idea of wanting a story about how the reader and baldwin met. I think it would be adorable to see how little reader and little baldwin got along with eachother platonically before realizing that they both love eachother in a different and more intimate way than they already do hehe.

Also, i wanted to say that i love your work. And i really appreciate the amazing people who make fanart, fanfics, and a lot of many other different content for this little fandom. Like you!

Thank you for blessing us with our daily bread and i hope you take care of yourself and have a great day!

♡ The Fireflies - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fuff ♡

A/N: Hello Hana! This is such a cute request, thank you for your love and support 🫶. I hope this is what you had in mind! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy

Baldwin was nine when he was diagnosed with leprosy.

He was sixteen when he left for battle.

He was twenty when his disease got so severe he was required to wear a mask.

And of all people in his life, it was y/n who was by his side for every single moment. His best friend then wife.

She was outside the royal chambers as the physicians worked on him for the first time, poking and prodding his body with cold metal instruments to test if their fears were true.

She was the one who kissed his forehead before he left for battle.

She was the one who missed his smile the very most when it was replaced with a cold, iron mask.

They were both so young when their worst nightmare came true.

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

It was early morning when the young boys played in the castle courtyard. Each of them only children.

Y/n sat off to the side in the grass with Sybila, watching the boys play.

The two girls made chains with wildflowers that stuck up out of the grass in abundance while the boys played with pretend swords and shields.

Unbeknownst to y/n, Baldwin watched her from a distance. She looked so pretty sitting there in the grass, her hair spilling around her shoulders, framing her face just right.

“OOOOH BALDWIN HAS A CRUSHHH!” one of the young boys taunted from behind him. “I DO NOT!” he yelled back, striking the boy with the wooden sword, using all his strength.

The boy hit back and in an attempt to block his attack, Baldwin's arm was sliced open with the sharpened wood of the sword. Blood trickled down his arm, hitting the ground in small beads. But he took no notice of this, striking the other boy in the head, knocking him to the ground.

It wasn't until a loud shriek from one of the other boys at the large gash on his arm that he noticed the blood. One of the boys ran off to alert an adult as Baldwin stared at his arm in disbelief.

Sybila ran to her brother and y/n followed to help him inside. Oddly enough, he did not feel any pain.

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

When he was taken to the physicians, y/n waited with his sister anxiously, fearing the worst. It had been noted instantly that Baldwin had felt no pain from the wound and this sparked the attention of many.

Soon, the news spread around the castle about the boy's recent diagnosis.

Y/n was permitted from seeing him for the remainder of the day as the physicians worked to ensure that their fears were in fact correct. 

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

By nightfall, y/n was fed up with waiting. She left her chambers and headed silently down the hall to his rooms.

When she eventually reached the large wooden doors, she knocked softly in a pattern that the two had decided would be their “secret code”, so they knew who was at the door.

“Come in” a small, broken voice called out.

Y/n entered to find the boy sitting on his bed, tears stained his cheeks and he looked very tired. “Blondie, are you okay? What's wrong?” she said with worry, her kind yet urgent voice calmed the young boy's heart just a little, as did the nickname she had given him a few years priour.

“I.. I don't know” he muttered as she sat down beside him. The girl wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close to her. “They haven't told me anything… y/n, am I dying?” he looked up at her, his blue eyes that usually sparkled, were filled with tears and fear.

“You're not dying, I'm sure you will be okay” she gave him a small smile. The boy shrugged and rested his head on his friend's shoulder.

Just then, the girl had an idea. “Hey, why don't you come to my chambers for the night? We could have a sleepover, it would be really fun!” she grinned cheerfully, standing from the bed and offering a hand for him to take. Baldwin's eyes lit up at the idea.

“Yeah that sounds fun!” his voice sounded less broken now. He wiped his eyes and stood up to follow his friend. Taking her hand, they walked as quietly as they could back to the girls chambers. 

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

Once inside, they stripped all the covers off y/n’s bed, pushed two couches closer together and draped sheets over the top to create a small cave, just big enough for them to fit inside.

They decorated it with pillows and blankets to make a bed, and finally they were finished.

The two crawled inside and laid down next to each other, giggling at their work. “You were right, this is fun!” Baldwin said, turning to look at y/n with the crooked grin that she loved so much, plastered to his face.

“Yeah, I hope you feel better now” she replied with a smile. The boy nodded, taking a second to admire how pretty she was before speaking again.

“Hey, do you want to hear a scary story?” he said with a smirk. Y/n giggled and nodded, sitting up in preperation.

They stayed up late that night, sharing stories of witches and the undead, scaring each other and giggling at each other's terrified faces until they fell asleep during the early hours of the morning.

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

Y/n was the first to wake.

Her eyes blinked open slowly and she stretched as her body came awake. She smiled as the memories from the night priour came back to her.

Turning onto her side, she saw her friend still sprawled out beside her, sleeping soundly.

Quietly as possible so as to not wake him, she crept out of their makeshift home to get dressed.

Once she was dressed for the day with her hair brushed, she crawled back into the fort to wake Baldwin. She shook his shoulder gently, “blondie, wake up! Its morning now!” she whispered, grinning when he shifted.

Baldwin groaned and opened his eyes, just enough too see her. “Y/n its too earlyyy” he whined, pulling the covers over his face.

“Come on sleepy head its time to get up!” the girl giggled, prodding his shoulder. Begrudgingly, the boy sat up as y/n pulled his arm to drag him out of the fort.

Once he was dressed as well, the two went to the dining room for breakfast.

The day proceeded as usal.

Baldwin carried on with his royal duties as prince, putting the diagnosis in the back of his mind. That was until night fell again and his fathers physicians came to his chambers to check on him.

As the cold, metal instruments poked at his arms and legs, he caught himself wishing that y/n was there to comfort him with a silly joke or a story.

When the men left his room, he finally allowed himself to cry.

He cried for a long time in the cold, dimly lit room.

Was he really going to die? A thousand questions flooded his mind. “Am I really going to die so young? Will I never get married or have children? Will I never get old enough to be king? What will-” a knock came from the wooden door, snapping him out of his thoughts.

But this was not just any knock, it was the secret code that y/n had come up with.

He wiped his tears quickly and called for her to come in. The girl hurried into the room, closing the door behind her.

“Blondie, come quick, you need to see this!” she sounded exited and was fully dressed in a warm looking cloke and day clothes, she also carried a candle stick with her .

The boy did not heasetate to get out of bed and put on his shoes to follow.

As quietly as they could, they crept down the hallway and outside to the castle courtyard.

“Y/n, slow down, where are we going?!” the boy called out too her.

“Just hurry, you dont want to miss this!” she replied, taking his hand to lead him.

Eventually, the two reached the small pond in the castle courtyard that the children were forbidden from going near.

“Y/n, we are not supposed to play by the water! My mother said its dangerous!” Baldwin whispered urgently.

“Stop being such a baby, look at this!” with that, the girl put licked her fingers and put out the candle, plunging the two into darkness.

Or what would have been darkness if it wasnt for the thousands of fireflies that swarmed the pond. The boy was lost for words.

“Theyre beautiful arent they?” y/n said softly, sitting down on the grass. “Yes.. they are wonderful” he replied, joining her on the grass.

The girl chuckled, “are you glad you trusted me now?” she said, moving closer too him.

A grin spread across Baldwin’s face, “yes, this is amazing” he replied, his eyes not leaving the pond and the hundreds of tiny glowing lights.

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

The moment was beautiful and something the two of them would remember for years into the future.

In times of pain, one would often whisper to the other, “remeber the fireflies my love” and the memories would come back to defeat whatever agony plagued the two, as a symbol of their ever lasting love for eachother.

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

hiii ⸜( ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

name: mithi - not really, just family nickname

she/her

16 years old

ethnically & ancestrally indian (live in bangalore, karnataka)

technically american (born in michigan)

lesbian

questioning demi/gray-aromantic

11th grader in cbse science stream (subjects: physics, chemistry, biology, psychology, english)

intj

libra sun, gemini moon, cancer rising

mental: unstable, go through depressive phases, gritted-tooth optimist, mayhaps depressed & have ocd (but prolly just another lazy kid wrongly self-diagnosing)

physical: brown skin, black hair, v dark brown eyes, 5'6/168cm, glasses-wearing girlie

mostly post & reblog stuff related to marauders, lgbtq+, literature, feminism, girlhood, desi culture, mental health & other general stuff & a couple other fandoms (pls stick by if i seem ur cup of tea)

dni: sexists, homophobes, racists, transphobes, ableists, anti-choice-ers, anti-palestine supporters, any bigots really

rules: don't be any of the above mentioned, don't be creepy, don't send sexual stuff for the love of god i'm a minor!

fun fact!: i was born exactly at 11:11 p.m.

studyblr sideblog: @academicgremlinhehe to keep my procrastination in check

mental health/vent/ranting sideblog: @thyhonesteheorte cuz i'm too scared to be especially depressing on main

feel free to check me out on :

blog - like an actual site, not this beauty chaos

ao3 - solely marauders content

that odd melancholy feeling - current ongoing marylily fic on ao3

wattpad - same content as ao3

that odd melancholy feeling - on wattpad

pinterest - may not be visible until i turn 16

life goals :

become an academic weapon once again - summoning pre 9th grade me

plan a - iiser bs-ms course with major in biology or/& physics; plan b - bsc psychology/biotechnology + masters neuropsychology/neuroscience/astronomy/evolutionary biology abroad

phd astrobiology/neuroscience/neuropsychology/evolutionary biology abroad

multiple degrees?? yes pls to being disgustingly over-educated

work in research + part time writer

independence

travel the world

peace

tagging system! :

#mithi's own - all original posts

#she communicates oh my! - answering asks, communicating with other users, tag games

#poetic lil mithi - original poetry

#mithi's marauders - all posts relating to my marauders fanfiction

#wishful necromancy - all posts relating to the marauders fandom hehe get it?

#slightly less beloveds - posts about fandoms apart from the marauders

#musings from thy truly - journal extracts, vents, stuff that should be in my journal but i was too lazy to write with my hand, shit posts, life updates, literally anything that isn't studying or poetry or fandom-related

#mithistudies - studyblr posts made until 10th october 2024

current read! : jane eyre

current watch! : dickinson, lord of the rings: rings of power

current obsessions! : hurt/comfort wolfstar fics, cheese, dreaming of an academic comeback, blasting dramatic music

hobbies! : sketching, chess, photography, writing (poetry, lyrics, fanfic, novel, etc), recording vlogs, crafts, listening to music, reading, watching movies & shows, piano, and many many more!!

music! : gracie abrams, lorde, olivia rodrigo, chappell roan, cavetown, clairo, hozier, mitski, tv girl, beach bunny, girl in red, lana del rey, wallows, alex g, and many many more!!

books! : solitaire, heartstopper, pjo, hoo, toa, soc, p&p, wuthering heights, jane eyre, great gatsby, sherlock holmes, agggtm, and many many more!!

shows! : heartstopper, atypical, lotr: rings of power, pjo, young royals, dickinson, sherlock, s&b, and many many more!!

movies! : lady bird, p&p (2005), the perks of being a wallflower, dating amber, little women (2019), lotr & hobbit trilogies, thg, dead poets society, and many many more!!

[hoosbandewan]

THE Billy Taylor Post

I have a love/hate relationship with The Halcyon as a show overall. I don't feel like all of it is written well, but the area in which it definitely excels is Billy Taylor's story. You know, the cutie pie bellboy that Ewan plays and who is always bugging out in all of the gifs we make of him. He's young, he's sweet, and he's insanely adorable.

And his story is also the best in the entire show. In my opinion!!

I also cry whenever I think about Billy for too long but we'll get into that later, hehe.

Spoilers for The Halcyon, btw!

If you haven't seen it, The Halcyon is set at a fancy hotel in London just as WWII has come to Britain. Also, fair warning that this post is a little bit all over the place because I have SO MANY BILLY TAYLOR FEELS

At the start of the show, Billy is seventeen and working at The Halcyon as a bellboy. He's portrayed by Ewan as someone who's maybe a little bit... no thoughts, head empty. I jokingly refer to Billy as having big NPC energy when he's in the background of scenes because it looks like he has radio static going through his head whenever he's not being interacted with. And like to think that it's not because it was Ewan's first gig as an actor. I think Billy genuinely is a little bit daft. He's the baby himbo. He's the golden retriever puppy who isn't the smartest in the room but he makes up for it with hard work and dedication and pure sweetness.

I mean, he's only seventeen and he appears to be one of the higher ranking bellboys at the hotel. He's given important tasks like welcoming ~secret guests to the hotel, showing new hires where to go, and personally taking care of high ranking guests' belongings. He's clearly trusted by the management and is, more importantly, very good at his job.

But, bless his heart... Billy can be kind of a mess. He's forgetful and sometimes just plain thick. He loses the family dog of the lord and lady who own the hotel while taking it out for a walk. (Literally how does that happen. Billy.) He bungles the staff poker game by revealing his hand without realizing. He's also a silly little dumbass when he and a couple of the other hotel staff are at the movie theater and see the lady who owns the hotel (who's there on a !secret date) and he straight up points at her from several aisles back with his eyes all bugging out. Be more obvious, Billy!

Billy is young and naive and maybe not the smartest guy around, but you know what? He's good at what he does (most of the time, lol) and he's a damn hard worker.

He's also someone who knows that people are reluctant to believe in him and he clearly doesn't like that. Billy signs up to join the army the moment he turns eighteen and, although we don't see it, his mum Peggy (who works at the hotel as the telephonist aka switchboard operator) mentions to the hotel general manager that there was a bit of an argument between them over it.

“Do you know why he was so upset that I didn’t want him signing up? He thought I was saying he wasn’t good enough.”

He also gets angry with his mum when his call-up papers do arrive. I know I called him daft before, so I'm giving him credit where credit is due - he actually very cleverly notices that the letter should have gone to his family's house, but it showed up at the hotel instead. And, upon learning that he's been assigned to the Royal Artillery instead of what he wanted - the engineers - he knows it was his mum (with the help of the hotel general manager, but he doesn't know that part) who moved things around so that Billy could stay close to home.

He angrily tells her, "I ain't a child no more," and storms out of the room. Billy wants to prove himself. He wants to be a grown up with responsibilities and he wants to be believed in.

You feel for him, but you also feel for his mum, who is watching her only son grow up and enlist in the war effort. At one point, Peggy mentions that she was only 19 or 20 by the time she'd had Billy, so she was a young mother (and still is!). Her worrying and fretting over him clearly annoys him because he's a teenager, but, god you feel for her. We also learn that Billy's dad, Jim, was drafted to fight in the war so she must be out of her mind with worry. I'll get more into my Billy feels as related to his mum in a bit. But I mean... just look at this line of Peggy's after Billy's joined the army:

“I pray. I fuss. I hold him a little tighter each time I see him."

Before I move on, GOSH, Billy is such a teenager when it comes to his interactions with his mum, lol. He doesn't want her fussing over him or being affectionate. He shrugs her off when she tries to fix his collar. He's reluctant to let her kiss his cheek... but he lets her do it anyway, of course.

Speaking of his family, Billy's relationship with his little sister, Dora, is also so cute and I love them. She tells another character that she doesn't miss him once he's moved out to join the army because she thinks he's "annoying" but she really does love him, lbr. And he's clearly very close with her, too.

At one point, their family home is destroyed in the Blitz so Peggy and Dora move into The Halcyon for a while. Billy watches his sister on mornings that he can get away from his army duties. He carries her around piggyback style. He lets her wear his army hat. He calls her "squirt." They're freaking adorable.

There's also a cute little moment during one of the Blitz raids where Billy's mum and sister are in the hotel shelter and Dora is frightened. Her mum tells her to listen for the sounds of the artillery and says, “That’s our Billy. He’s protecting us.”

And he is. Billy is a protector. He's always looking out for the people he cares about. When Kate, the maid he has a crush on, is SA'd by the Count, Billy angrily confronts him and even points the Count's own fucking gun at him. AND HE PULLS THE TRIGGER. He was about to fucking murder this man for doing what he did to Kate!

Billy is a fucking real one. God, he's the best character.

I don't have anywhere specific to put this, but I wanted to mention how much I love the little detail the writers added in about Billy's handiness and interest in machinery:

He is seen chatting with one of the waiters about the guns they use in the war and is later able to correctly identify the type of German plane flying over the hotel.

Later on in the season, The Halcyon's general manager and head concierge are trying to fix the hotel generator and lamenting that Billy was the one who always maintained it before he left to join the army. (I will come back to this later because omg)

Billy himself mentions to his mum at one point that he's planning on helping a neighbor with some things she needs done in her shelter and that he expects it to be a quick job.

When he joins the army, he's put in charge of operating one of the anti-aircraft guns - directing his fellow soldiers and being the one to manually operate the machine itself.

Now that I think I've covered every other Billy feel, I have to talk about... the worst one. The saddest one. His death. /:

I don't know how to say this without sounding like a complete [Michael Gavey voice] loooser, but I can't really think about Billy and his story in this show for too long without... crying? Oof.

I think that's a testament to just how well written his storyline was in this show. They make you care so fucking much about this sweet, innocent, pure-hearted, good to a fault, daft, brave young man so much that, when he dies in the Blitz, it really fucking hurts.

I swear, thinking about Billy Taylor deals psychic damage to me every time.

And I think that, part of the reason that Billy's death hurts so much is because of how it's shown to us. We all know the famous orange scene between Billy and Kate so I'm sorry for ruining it by making it sad, lol. But that scene ends with Kate telling Billy that she'll meet him the next morning to share the orange with him. So when morning comes and the hotel staff are arriving and see Kate waiting impatiently for "someone" who hasn't arrived, your heart fucking sinks immediately.

They don't even tell us about Billy's death by showing Peggy learning of the news. We're told through Kate's POV. He doesn't show up to their meeting in the morning and, when she arrives for her shift, the staff has been gathered around by the general manager. Only then do we learn that Billy was killed by a parachute mine the night before. And we follow Kate to the same closet where Billy gave her the orange, where she's sobbing and cradling the fruit in her hands.

But what's even sadder is that Billy remains a presence throughout the rest of the show. You, as the viewer, grieve him alongside not only his family, but also the people who knew him and worked with him.

When the hotel loses power during a bombing one night and the general manager and head concierge are trying to fix the generator, they're lost for what to do and even lost for words because Billy was the one who always handled the generator. They end up fixing the thing by taking a wrench and banging the side of it because "That's what Billy used to do." And it works. The generator turns back on thanks to Billy. Thanks to the memory of him. And the concierge look up and says, "Clever lad," as though Billy can hear him.

Of course, Peggy spends the rest of the season grappling with the loss of Billy, too. The other characters mention more than once that she's "talking about Billy as though he's still here" and that it's worrying them. Eventually, the general manager sits down with her and she says that she does know he's gone but that it's so hard to believe because she wants to think that he could just walk through the door at any moment.

But, oh my god, the saddest moment of the show for me... is the moment when Peggy is walking through the hallway in the staff area of the hotel and she sees one of the bellboys walking towards her. He has his head down so his face is in shadow but he's about the same height as Billy... and you can see in Peggy's face that she's allowing herself - just for that one moment - to imagine that it's Billy. To let herself think that he's still alive. You're watching her process the scene before her and seeing her think, "Could it be him?" for those few seconds... until she sees the bellboy's face. And, oh my god, it absolutely wrecks me every single time.

Billy's death is the reason that Peggy gives up the one thing she has left - Dora - and sends her away to the countryside along with the other children who are being evacuated from London. Because she can't bear the thought of losing her last living child.

Billy is the character who shows the audience how cruel and unforgiving the war is. That it can take anyone, no matter how sweet and kind and young and good the person is.

And it illustrates the enormity of the chasm they leave behind.

Billy's loss is felt in everyone, from his family to the people he worked with to the girl he had a crush on. AND IT'S FELT IN ME, TOO, GODDAMN

This was so long and I may not have even touched upon all of my feels but thanks for coming to my Billy Taylor TED Talk. I fucking love him. The writers did an amazing job writing him. 10/10, no notes whatsoever. I cry every single time.

He's such an underrated Ewan character and, I know I haven't mentioned it much, but Ewan's portrayal of him is flawless. He's perfect at capturing all the silliness, daftness, and earnestness that makes up our sweet little Billy!

Tl;dr - Everyone should love Billy Taylor!

Aaaand here's another gif of our sweet boy to end this massive post:

[bluesylveon2]

Hello! I have read your work and just fell in love with it! You feel the characters so well that I'm even jealous, hehe. Congratulations on 500 subscribers and I look forward to your creative development and further <3 I hope requests are open for people like me) /this is my first request, I'm a little worried/ May I ask you about Idia+Reader? Where Idia and the reader are very good friends and always tease each other and are not afraid in terms of each other, but they do not understand the feeling of "love" until they are told about it directly. Thanks and sorry for the trouble! Good luck to you <3

Hi and thank you!! I am so sorry for the wait! Don't worry about it being your first request. I made it in the same world as the royal au I have. I tried to get everything you asked but I got most of it! I hope that you enjoy it though. Btw this is long lol

Summary: Watch the love story of Idia Shroud and Yuu Ceres

Note: royal au, childhood friends to lovers, OC's (Alcides is twst Hercules, Demetra, Fira), both Idia and Yuu are implied to be demigods or are related to the Greek gods/goddesses, fluff, some angst, mentions of Ortho's backstory, some tech, and slightly based on Hades and Persephone

Warning: not beta read and possible ooc characters

Word Count: 3.8k

Masterlist: here, Series Masterlist: here

Idia and Yuu age 5

A young boy with pale skin and flaming blue hair wandered through the forest following a shiny light. He had noticed it float by while his father was busy at an annual conference hosted by the Ceres family. Curious about the light and bored from doing nothing, the boy decided to follow it.

"Hey! Wait for me!" The boy called out. The light continued moving farther and farther. His breathing started becoming heavier the more he ran. Suddenly, the light stopped, stood next to a tree, and gave Idia an expected look. Idia ran until he got a glimpse of what the light was. "A fairy.." He said breathlessly. Idia had heard of fairies from his mother and how they can come in many shapes and sizes. This fairy was small and emitted bright light. Nothing like the famous prince from Briar Valley the boy had heard about. 

"Who are you? How do you know my friend?" A new voice asked.

"AH!" Idia screamed and found a girl sitting behind the tree the fairy stood by. The girl wore a dress, and her eyes were red from crying. 

"I'm Idia. I saw this fairy fly by, and I followed it. What's your name?"

The girl smiled sadly. "Yuu Ceres." The girl turned to the fairy. "Thank you, Fira." She then turned to Idia. "I think she was looking for someone to cheer me up."

Idia sat down next to the girl. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. "What happened?" he asked with curiosity. 

"My mom. She is always so overprotective and expects a lot from me. She won't let me have fun."

"Why don't you just tell her or run away?"

"Because she won't let me leave. Even if I did, I don't know who to turn to since everything I hear about the outside world is through books." Fira frowned and said something, although all Idia could hear were bells. "Yes, I have you and the other fairies, but I can't go to your world with you."

Idia hummed in thought until he got a lightbulb. "I know! My dad wants me to come with him to these meetings. Why don't we meet again and play the next time I come?"

"Really?! Do you mean it?"

Idia nodded shyly. "Yeah."

Yuu grinned and pulled Idia in for a hug. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Idia blushed before slowly hugging Yuu back. Little did the two kids know that this moment set the foundation for the precious friendship between Idia and Yuu. Their friendship would last for a lifetime. 

Idia and Yuu age 6

"Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten! Ready or not, here I come!" A 4-year-old Ortho giggled. Meanwhile, Yuu and Idia were hiding closely together behind a giant boulder. 

"Hehe, he is not going to find us now." Yuu laughed as she watched the boy go in the opposite direction from their hiding spot. Her eyes were so focused on Ortho that she did not notice Idia's hair turning slightly pink. 

"Maybe, but he will find us if you keep laughing like that."

Yuu stuck her tongue out playfully at Idia. "Please. We'll be fine."

Idia checked the area before turning to Yuu. "We should split up so Ortho would have difficulty finding us." The boy moved to stand up but was stopped by Yuu grabbing his hand.

"Wait! We should go together!"

"But it is better for us to divide and not stick to one spot."

Yuu slowly let go of Idia and sighed. "I just don't want you to leave me." She looked up at Idia's yellow eyes. "You are my best friend. If we go down, we can go down together."

Idia lightly blushed, and he looked away from Yuu's adorable eyes. How dare his crush be so cute. "I-"

"I FOUND YOU, BIG BRO AND BIG SIS!"

"AHH!" Idia and Yuu immediately clung to each other and screamed.

"Let's run for it!" Yuu exclaimed.

"I agree." Idia nodded, and the two made a run for it. 

All three children ran through the forest without a care in the world. Their innocent laughter filled the air, unaware of the change about to occur.

Idia and Yuu age 10

Yuu sat humming a tune in her designated tree. She was waiting for her best friend, Idia, to return for their annual meet-up. Yuu thought that their first meeting five years ago was not out of luck. She finally felt something similar to freedom by spending time with the Shroud brothers. Her mother was not constantly eyeing her or strict teachers nagging about her mistakes. Yuu could finally be around people besides her fairy friends who did not care about these things.

"I'm so excited, Fira. I can show Idia how my magic has been improving." Yuu smiled as she conjured a tiny daisy from the ground. Fira's bell voice made Yuu laugh. "What? I want to show off my magic."

Fira rolled her eyes.

"Fine. I mostly want to see him. I like seeing his hair be pink when he thinks I don't notice." Yuu giggled while she eyed the flower. "I wonder what it means…" Fira's voice jingled, causing Yuu to look at her in shock. "You think he likes me? There's no way he does, Fira. He only sees me as a friend." 

Yuu traced her fingers along the grass, causing more flowers to grow. It was something to pass the time as she waited. She just had to be patient and wait. 

Minutes passed.

Hours passed.

Finally, the sun was setting. 

Yuu sat there waiting on Idia, only for him to not appear. Fira watched her friend in pity as she left stood up to leave. 

"It's okay. Things happen. Maybe he will come tomorrow?" Yuu said with hope as she walked back home. The girl felt an unsettling weight on her chest with each step. 

Yuu let her feet guide her, and soon enough, she was at the long dinner table eating with her mother and the conference attendants. Usually, this is where she would return to her quiet self but speak to Idia with a code they made up. 

The girl scanned the crowd until she spotted a familiar mop of blue fire hair, only to find one from Idia's father. Despite that, Yuu felt hope that he would return tomorrow. She made a promise to return to their spot to wait for him.

Only to find out he never did, even after the conference ended. 

Idia never returned for years; it was like he was never there. 

Yuu felt the uncertain feeling grow as the years progressed. It was after many years that she realized what it was: heartbreak.

Idia and Yuu age 18

Yuu lay on a sofa reading a book in peace. It was one of the rare moments when her mother was on a trip for days, leaving Yuu to her own devices. Yuu was reading a story about a faraway city in a desert when she heard a knock on the door. She listened to the butler open it and some talking nearby. It was an unfamiliar voice that Yuu was not used to, so she ignored it instead. The girl continued reading until she heard footsteps heading her way.

"My Lady, you have a guest. His name is Idia Shroud."

Yuu dropped her book and turned to the butler. There, standing next to him, was her old childhood friend. He now grew very tall, wore a grey outfit, had long flame-blue hair almost touching the floor, and had a nervous look. His yellow eyes looked at anything but Yuu. 

"Thank you, Mecon. You can go now. I want to speak to him privately." 

Mecon bowed and stepped out, leaving Yuu and Idia alone to sit silently. Yuu had a neutral look while Idia continued to look at the walls. Yuu took a few steps towards Idia and stopped in front of him.

"Hi."

"Why?" Yuu's hands curled up in fists, and she took a deep breath to fight the urge to punch him. "Why did you disappear and not tell me anything?"

"Yuu, I-"

"Let me finish," Yuu responded sharply and glared daggers at Idia. "You left me for years and suddenly showed up just like that? I thought that we were friends?"

 "I know sorry is not going to fix this, but I had a reason." Idia looked away and sighed. "There was an accident at the Isle of Woe, and Ortho did not make it."

Yuu felt her anger mostly drain away, and shock took its place. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. The accident caused me to lock myself in my room because I wanted to help rebuild my brother." A small smile graced Idia's face, and he turned to Yuu. "You should see him now. He has become a technomatic humanoid and can now make his own decisions. I can bring him for you if you want."

"So Ortho is now a robot?"

"Initially, but now he has advanced so much that he is more human-like. He did that all on his own." Idia shifted his weight before he spoke again. "Yuu, I know neglecting you was not the right thing to do. However, I know Ortho misses you, and I-" Idia stopped himself. "want to fix our friendship."

Yuu looked at Idia in confusion, but she did not question him. "You know that may take a while.”

Idia looked at Yuu with confidence. "I am willing to take the risk."

---

"WHY DID I SAY THAT?" Idia cried the moment he entered his room. Meanwhile, Ortho closed his book and looked at his brother in curiosity.

"How did your meeting go with Big Sister?" Ortho could recall meeting the girl from his old memories and still referred to her with that nickname despite never meeting her. There was a reason the previous Ortho called Yuu that, and Idia never figured it out. 

"Well, she got mad at me, as she should, and then I made a mistake."

"What did you do?"

Idia sighed and looked at his brother. "I did not tell her I missed her and said I wanted to fix our friendship instead. How lame of me for not admitting it!"

Ortho set his book aside and floated to his brother. "That is still a good start! An important step to a healthy romantic relationship is friendship."

"ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP? Where did that come from?"

Ortho only giggled. "Big Brother, my old memories show you always blushed around Yuu. That means that you like her!"

"Ortho, I was a kid at the time. It was basically puppy love. Besides, she did not like me that way."

"Your heart rate is increasing."

"Because I am being a laughing stock right now!"

Ortho sighed. "There is nothing wrong with having feelings. Your research notes always included Yuu one way or another."

Idia looked at Ortho quizzingly. "You looked at my notes?"

"So you should focus on being her friend and then see where it goes. It could help rekindle your relationship."

Idia sighed. His friendship with Yuu was practically at level 2 and not level 100 after many years had passed. It would be hard, but he needed to work to save it. 

Idia and Yuu age 24

A few years passed since idia and Yuu reunited, and they rekindled most of what they had lost. Both had changed in their own unique ways. In fact, Yuu thought that Idia's shy personality was adorable. Gone were the annual visits. Instead, Idia made an effort (shocking, right) to send in a drone that looked like a bird with a hologram attached so they could keep tabs on one another. 

Yuu was surprised by the number of inventions Idia made during their time apart. He always continued to surprise her at each visit. His latest one was currently a surprise for Yuu. 

"Where are you taking me, Ortho?" Yuu asked. She was currently being led somewhere by Ortho, floating behind her with his hands on her shoulders. A cloth was tied around Yuu's eyes, so she could not see anything. 

"It's a surprise from Big Brother!" Ortho said gleefully, causing Yuu to giggle. Seeing how her friend had grown ever since they first met was nice. Both Yuu and Ortho continued walking until Ortho stopped putting pressure on Yuu. "Okay, we're here." The boy said and proceeded to remove the blindfold. 

Yuu squinted her eyes as bright light entered her vision. She blinked until her eyes became adjusted to her surroundings. She was in the middle of a field, with trees lining up the border, and in front of her was no other than Idia standing next to an odd-looking contraption. 

"What's that?" Yuu asked, pointing to the machine next to her friend. 

Idia's eyes widened, and he twiddled his fingers together. "It's your birthday gift." He replied shyly, pink covering the tips of his hair. 

Yuu examined the machine. "Really? What does it do?"

"Just watch." Idia pressed a button, causing a dome to project from the machine and appear around the field. The machine spilled out various seeds, scattering them amongst the grass. Once it was settled, Idia's hands glowed. Yuu watched as he murmured a spell, causing a variety of flowers to grow. Light fairies appeared like fireflies and flew to each flower, illuminating each one in multitudes of colors. Meanwhile, Ortho flew around like Yuu's fairy friends.  

Yuu's mouth opened in shock as she inspected a few. "Are these marigolds?" She pointed at another nearby, "And is this a snowdrop?" She turned to her friend in amazement. "How did you do this? These two should not grow in the same season."

Idia looked away from Yuu. "Well, it was not hard. This dome creates a greenhouse effect, so you can grow various flowers here. They also stay alive longer." He slowly turned to Yuu. "Do you like it?"

Yuu felt touched for the first time in her life. She felt her heart grow light and tears form in her eyes. "Idia," She wiped the tears out of her eyes. "I love it. This is the best thing you could have ever given me."

"I know how much you love flowers."

"And I cannot thank you enough." Yuu suddenly hugged Idia and rested her head on his racing heart, causing him to let out a small eep. "Thank you, Idia. I love it."

Ortho and the other fairies watched as Idia's hair became pink, and he slowly hugged Yuu back. The two looked like lovers stuck in their own little world. 

"They are definitely in love."

The fairies jingling voices agreed.

---

Two individuals lay in their beds that night, deep in thought. 

"Fira?" "Ortho?"

"What is it?" both replied in their own ways. 

"What is this feeling I'm experiencing? My heart keeps racing when I think of Yuu/Idia. I want to see her/him smile and be around her/him all the time."

"Oh, Yuu/Idia, you are just in love."

A blush filled their faces, and they smiled gleefully. They felt warm in their chest at the thought of the respective crush. It felt nice, like a flame infamous in the Shroud family. 

Both the fairies and Ortho knew what they needed to do. 

---

"Mother, I need to talk to you," Yuu said, entering her mother's study.

Demetra set her wine glass down and looked at her daughter. "What is it?"

Yuu took a deep breath and confidently walked up to her mother. "It is about my marriage. I found someone I am interested in."

Demetra raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Who is the lucky suitor?"

"Idia Shroud."

Suddenly, as soon as the name left Yuu's mouth, the room felt icy. Yuu questioned whether or not her mother had an affinity for ice for that brief second. 

"What?"

"I said that the man I want to marry is Idia Shroud."

"No."

"But mother!"

"No, Yuu," Demetra said, standing up. "The Shrouds are nothing for troublemakers. They deserved their punishment after they rebelled against the Jupiter family."

"But he did nothing, Mother! That was all in the past!" Yuu exclaimed. Her eyes burned in fury as she recalled her dear friend's shy personality. 

Demetra scoffed and shook her head. "Their family does nothing more than play with monsters. I heard that Shroud, whom you love so much, even turned his brother into one after an accident. I've seen your loved one's father shy away ever since."

Ortho's face comes to mind, how he still smiled despite not being the original Ortho. "Don't you dare say that about Ortho! Idia loves him as a brother!" Yuu said with tears in her eyes. 

"Or what? The family is cursed, and if you run to him, you will suffer too. You will be stuck on an island surrounded by monsters." Demetra remained indifferent as she watched her daughter cry. "Yuu, I am doing this for your own good."

"Doing what? I love him!"

Demetra tsked. "You need to get over your puppy love. Besides, I found someone suitable for you."

Yuu froze and looked at her mother. "What do you mean?"

Demetra smiled, the first good emotion during the whole conversation. "I spoke to the head of the Jupiter family, and he agreed that you are to be arranged to marry Alcides Jupiter. He is smart,  handsome, and in line to take over his family. A perfect match for you."

Yuu felt her world collapse as she herself fell to her knees. She knew of Alcides, but she could not imagine being tied down to him because of her mother's doing. She wanted the freedom to go out and see the world outside the little bubble she had been stuck in for 24 years. Sure, she might be stuck on the Island of Woe, but she would have more access to the outside world than she was now. 

Demetra kneeled down and patted Yuu's shoulder. "You will get to meet him next week. Trust me, Yuu. Everything will work out in the end. As they say, mother knows best." She walked out of the room, leaving Yuu by herself. 

Yuu wiped her eyes with her hands. Her eyes wandered to the walls and their flower designs around her. She felt like the walls constricted her and trapped her in a glorified cage. Yuu's eyes caught on an orange light floating in a window. She looked at the light with determination. 

She needed to get out now. 

---

A few days later, at night, Yuu made her move. Packing only a few necessities, Yuu opened her window to find her fairy friends around her. 

"Do you have everything you need?" Ortho asked as he floated to Yuu's window. 

"Yeah, I made sure to" Yuu turned to Ortho, who was wearing a black suit and had a robotic dog beside him. "Ortho? What are you doing here?'

Ortho giggled. "Your friends reached out to me and told me your situation, and I am here to bring you to the Island of Woe." Fira nodded and spoke something that came out like bells. "Fira also wants to come along too."

"But what about your friends? Won't you miss them?" Yuu asked, and her friend smiled. Her bell voice made a sound that sounded something like reassurance. As if she was telling Yuu that she would be okay with it. 

"Alright, I will let you tag along." Yuu smiled as Fira flew to her shoulder. 

"Now that is settled, let's head out before sunrise." Ortho motioned to the robot dog. "Yuu, you will ride Cerberus 1 while I fly us out. I'll make sure to use my magic to cover our tracks."

Yuu nodded and took one last look at her room. That room was full of memories since her childhood. The walls had seen Yuu grow with her mother and late father, cry over strict lessons, and talk to her fairy friends about Idia. Yuu felt a heavy sensation in her chest and turned to Ortho. 

"What about my mom? She would know I went to you to the Island."

"My parents and my grandmother will vouch for us. Don't worry; we will ensure you get the freedom you deserve."

Yuu nodded and hopped on Cerberus. "So long, Mother."

---

"Psst. Big Brother. Wake up."

Idia groaned and turned away from Ortho. "Five more minutes."

"You have to wake up! I have a surprise for you."

"Can't it wait?"

A female voice laughed, causing Idia to wake up instantly. "You want me to wait?" 

Idia threw his blanket off and sat up. Yuu's amused face filled his vision, causing Idia to blush at his embarrassing predicament. "Yuu? When did you come here?"

Yuu laughed. "An hour ago. Ortho gave me a tour of this place and led me here. Thank goodness he was with me, or I would have been lost. I must get used to this place if I plan to stay here long."

"What do you mean?"

"My mother wanted me to marry Alcides since I uhh," she turned to Ortho. "Can you step outside while I explain the next part to your brother?" 

 Ortho smiled, and Idia noticed something in his eyes like his brother kept secret. "Alright. I will show Fira around some more." Said fire fairy magically appeared and followed Ortho out the door. 

Yuu took a deep breath now that she was alone. "My mother told me about the arranged marriage because I-" She looked into Idia's eyes. "Said that I was in love with you."

Idia.exe froze. His body stiffened, his heartbeat increased, and his hair turned pink. "W-WHAT? Are you sure?"

Yuu nodded. "Yes, I am sure." She sat down next to Idia. "You have been my friend for a long time, Idia; even after you shut yourself out, we connected like nothing happened. I want to be by your side doing more than hiding out in a forest. Of course, if you will allow me."

Idia felt as if he was going to burst. "But what about that Alcides guy?"

"I don't know him, but I know you more. My mother could throw many guys at me to marry, but it would not sway anything. I would still choose you." Yuu said, intertwining one of her hands with Idia's.

Idia felt elated despite the very obvious blush on his face. Luckily, Yuu ignored it and rested her head on his shoulder. "That was the cheesiest thing I have ever heard." Idia laughed and squeezed Yuu's hand.

Yuu squeezed back in response, and a smile graced her face. "Yes, but you never said you didn't like it."

"I don't."

A/N:

Demetra is inspired by Demeter in Greek mythology and Fira is based on the fire fairies in twst.

Ceres is Demeter's Roman name.

Yes this part of the royal au, but I hc that the Island of Woe is more advanced in technology than the whole world.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[ackergarden]

the spy x assassin trope: a loidyor and bellarcy parallels (that i did for funsies for my faves!)

a short list of similarities for my top ships from both series, don’t take it seriously! may contain spoilers if you don’t read sxf or ph 👉🏽👈🏽

(i was waiting till the anime finishes since some of these parallels are from s2 hehe)

🩶—🩶—🩶

top secret spies

neyra being a royal spy, a double agent in her high rank in ardhalian society; twilight being an expert in the field of espionage for years under wise.

infamous assassins

yor had the skills of being an assassin drilled to her at a very young age by the garden; the same can be said for bella who had been made a weapon by the phantom scythe.

first meet

the bomb x the ones taking out the spies

loidyor had met back at the tailor shop is ep2/mission 2, but their actual forms of agreement had definitely been at the party where the two were driving home in the car. bellarcy's first encounter had been in the back alley where bella had saved neyra from the group of guys that had wanted to take neyra out from spying on them.

longing looks

we get this bella and neyra flashback during the times they were still dating, and bella's longing look at neyra had reminded her of the peace she had been living in during that time. in mission 56, we see loid looking at yor longingly after yor declared "i wish this peace to go on forever" while watching anya, which shortly takes place after the events of the massacre the night before.

[malsfefanfics]

yuri and hubert

Alright, anon. Let's do this!

Another late night, another moment of clarity. Another day, another blinding ache.

Yuri leaned against the window frame of the now empty inn, staring up at the clouds in the night sky. He had goblet of wine in hand. Rain pitter pattered against the glass. He normally wouldn't partake in wine this late at night. Let alone in an establishment such as this, all alone.

But this was a special occasion. The current Marquis Vestra had invited him personally. And truly, was he in any position to refuse? Especially when the owner had so graciously offered him such a rare delicacy. A wine so deep in color it near became blue, and was thick as blood on one's lips.

"I take it the Haunted Royal is suited to your palate?" came a voice.

"Not in the slightest," Yuri snickered. "Sometimes I think it's getting better and then it gets much worse. And yet, I find it impossible to stop drinking."

"That is the downside to such a wine."

Yuri tore his eyes away from the sky, just in time to see Hubert make himself at home at one of the barstools. With a spin on his heel and a wave of his hips, Yuri made his way over to join him.

"It's almost like the nectar of the Gods," Hubert mused, trailing his finger over a half-drunk goblet. "Cursed, yet addicting."

"Perhaps lotus would be more apt. I imagine nectar would leave a much more pleasing aftertaste."

"Hehe. Perhaps you're right."

A sharp warmth curled around him as he heard Hubert laugh. Yuri had to admit, in the low light the young Marquis was rather handsome. In a gangly, half-dead insomniac kind of way.

Though perhaps that was just the wine talking.

"So," Yuri sighed as he waved for another glass, "what job do you have for me this time?"

Hubert reached into his coat, pulling out a stack of envelopes. "Jobs, to be precise. Thanks to our losses taking over Garreg Mach, we're short on manpower. And these men will prove to be a problem if they are left....unchecked."

Yuri took the envelopes, and opened one. Inside was a short dossier, including a sketch of the mark in question. Each paper listed everything one could need to subdue them politically, financially, and emotionally. As well as the ideal methods of disposing of them physically.

"Okay, but I don't work for free," Yuri reminded him. "What do I get out of this set of jobs? I'm not cheap you know."

Hubert smirked, and waved a hand around the room. "This is a start."

Yuri nearly choked on his wine. "Excuse me?"

"Our friend here is planning to 'retire' soon," Hubert explained, "along with his husband. Over the next week, you will work with him to prepare this inn as one of your information brokers. You'll also be provided gold, and a rather extensive wardrobe."

"You claim retire, but I smell a rat. Tell me the truth, or that wine will be your last."

"Retiring from this inn, Leclerc. Not from my services." Hubert rolled his eyes. "A certain someone would never forgive me for ending this man's life."

Yuri nodded slowly, thinking it over. It was an ideal location, and no doubt was full of secrets if Hubert was involved.

"Alright," he agreed. "You have a deal."

"Excellent." Hubert finished his wine, and dropped two bags of coin on the table. "One for you, and one for the inn keeper. I will be in touch."

Yuri watched him warp away before downing the rest of his wine, beckoning for another.

This was going to be a long war.

[respectthepetty]

Hy, i always love your colour things and i was watching young royals s2 and i noticed some colours there too like orange and purple was constantly there...so you have any idea about it...

Sorry @alecnamjooing, I just want to make sure I understand the question you're asking is if I have any ideas about color-coded boys in love in a specific piece of queer media?

Ummmm....yeah, I might say that I have a few thoughts about Young Royals. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I would say that. Yeah. *trying to act normal*

I might have an idea about our Yellow/Orange Oddity and Blue Boy.

You know, since they ARE a Yellow/Orange Oddity and Blue Boy.

I might have thought about Wilhelm being a Blue Boy who is stable, loyal, sensitive, cold, and also very sad.

I might have some ideas about Simon being a Yellow/Orange Oddity who is creative, energetic, optimistic, warm, and, of course, cautious. He has some Green Guy qualities as well.

And I've thought a bit about how they wear their colors with each other all the time.

And I might have an idea about how Wilhelm wears their colors often before realizing he loves Simon.

When Wilhelm is missing Simon, he wears Simon's orange. Even his scarf incorporates their colors, and Simon's hat is blue.

Oh, and the texts swap their colors, because they are in love.

So why the Purple Pair? Purple is royalty, which Wilhelm is, but he has never felt like being the prince he is meant to be. No matter how much Simon is an escape from that, Wilhelm's royalty is constantly present, and Simon LOVES his royal guy!

When the second season begins, neither one is wearing the other's color because, well *loud sob*... and Wilhelm is rarely wearing his color at all because *louder sob*. Wilhelm's scarf is blue and red now instead of blue and orange, but he tries to make amends with Simon; however, Simon is not open to forgiving Wilhelm, so Wilhelm tries to wear Simon's color BUT takes it off and leaves it behind. *loudest sob*

Wilhelm is falling deeper into a depression and after his snow globe/paper weight breaks *peep the yellow getting all over him*

He has to see this guy. *peep his colors*

With his therapist's help, Wilhelm starts trying again with Simon. But Simon is always reminding Wilhelm who he is and what came between them because, even though he doesn't want to be, Simon is very much still in love with his royal guy. Note that Simon's sister, Sara, is also a Purple Person (with yellow luggage! such siblings!) and subtly reminds August of his allegiance and misdeed.

But Wilhelm figures it out and kisses Simon wearing both of their colors.

And they find their way back to each other and their colors.

I've also thought about how the first time Wilhelm tried to rebel in the first season wearing red casual clothes with Simon subtly reminding him of who he is in purple, his world fell apart.

But this time in the second season, standing in his red uniform, he fully embraces his rebellion against tradition while looking at his guy.

So, yeah, I would say I have a few ideas about the color-coded boys in love in Young Royals, but until we get that third and final season, they're just ideas and could all mean absolutely nothing. hehe *smiles manically*

It means something! The colors ALWAYS mean something. I've thought A LOT about this because how can anyone ignore the COLORS?! Wilhelm's entire family is freaking blue! We saw that when they were sitting on the couch for the interview at the very beginning! And why would Wilhelm randomly wear an orange sweater in season two when he has NEVER worn that color if he weren't trying to get back into Simon's heart?!

Yeah. Yeah. I HAVE SOME IDEAS!

Thanks for asking.