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alisonwritesimagines · 8 months

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Please Don't Be In Love With Someone Else ~LA!Shanks x Reader x LA!Mihawk Imagine~

Summary: You keep waiting for Shanks. But someone new comes along and suddenly, you're not so lonely.

Author’s Note: You read the title correctly. I'm evilly laughing right now as you read this in pain. Also, this is technically a rewrite of the angst ending cause the one I wrote and in my drafts is more fluff than angst.

Angst Ending to I Was Enchanted to Meet You

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: angst, fluff, but angst to all you Shanks lovers

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

It had been years since you last saw Shanks. And it's been a year since you last saw Luffy. Ever since he was old enough to sail off in the world to find the One Piece to become King of the Pirates, you had been by yourself since. Of course you did a lot for your small village to keep you occupied but you still missed your boys.

You were tending to your garden as it was time for you to harvest before it became spoiled and over grown. That was until you heard someone say something behind you.

“You don’t seem like someone who can harm a fly."

You turned around to see the warlord Dracule Mihawk standing before you. You stood up straight to seemed less intimidated.

“I can hurt a fly. Don’t think I’m good at harming anyone else,” you tell him as you crossed your arms.

“I see.”

“I know who you are so what do you want?” You asked.

“I was sent to kill you but in all honesty, I don’t think I can kill you. You’re too beautiful to be killed,” he tells you.

“Who sent you to kill me?” You asked, now worried. You’ve stayed in the island since you were born. Not only that, you stayed even when Luffy left.

“Not to worry now. I don't have any intentions to kill you," he tells you.

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"I'm curious to see why someone would send me to go after you."

"Feel free to stay. Just to tell you, it's going to be quite boring," you tell him.

Mihawk stayed around the next day to watch over you. He didn't understand why Vice Admiral Garp would want a warlord like him to kill a sweet little thing like yourself. You did nothing of the sort that would be considered dangerous or even pirate bounty level dangerous.

"Ow!" You yelled as you accidently burnt yourself with the pan.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Mihawk asked you as he rushed inside your home.

"Just burned myself," you tell him.

Mihawk quickly grabbed your bucket of water before gently putting your finger in the cool liquid.

"Thanks," you tell him.

"Of course."

"I made extras if you'd like. I got used to cooking for two," you tell him.

"Was it for you and your past lover?" Mihawk asked you.

"Not really surprisingly. I used to take care of a little boy who used to live with me who had a bottomless stomach. He wanted to become a pirate so he set sail a year ago," you tell him.

"I see."

"So, dinner?"

"Why not."

—

Mihawk stayed for a couple more weeks before he needed to back out to sea. You stood on the deck as you watched Mihawk get ready to leave.

"So I guess this is farewell?" You asked him.

"For now. I will be back in a month at most," he tells you.

"To finish me off and claim your berry?" You asked.

"No. To come see you again," Mihawk said before sailing off. You shook your head at him before walking back to your home.

You assumed Mihawk was lying or joking when he said he was coming back to see you. But to your surprise, you opened your door to see him standing before you.

"Brought you some new seeds for you to grow in your garden," Mihawk tells you.

"I'm guessing you're staying for dinner?" You asked with a small smile.

"If you'd have me," Mihawk said. You nodded before letting him inside your house.

As much as you didn't want to admit, you fell for Mihawk. Even though part of you hoped for Shanks to come back, you appreciated the fact that no matter how long Mihawk was gone for or even if he was wounded badly, he came back to you. Even though Shanks would come back to you, he hasn't for years.

"Will you be mine?" Mihawk asked you one night. After a midnight stroll, you both headed back to your home. Mihawk stopped you from walking inside by holding your hand.

"What?" You asked in shock.

"Be mine. I've fallen for you Y/n. And I swear to you, I would never let anything happen to you," Mihawk tells you.

"Alright. I'll be yours," you tell him. Mihawk gave you a small smile before pulling you towards him.

"May I kiss you?" Mihawk asked you.

"Yes."

Mihawk cupped your cheek with his hand before leaning in to kiss you.

Shanks rushed over to your home after being away for so many years. He was excited to tell you his adventures and was looking forward to seeing you once again. He knocked on your door, his heart pounding in excitement.

Instead of seeing you, he saw someone else open the door. His smile faltered as he stared at the stranger in front of him.

"May I help you?" The stranger asked him.

"My apologies. I was hoping to find Y/n L/n? The woman who lived here?" Shanks asked.

"Oh. I'm sorry. She's been gone for quite sometime. She left the village I want to say two years ago? Her and her husband moved to another island."

"Her husband?"

"Yes. I'm surprised she married a warlord but he had been kind to the village whenever he was here," the stranger pointed out.

"Do you happened to know her husband's name?"

"I believe it was Dracule Mihawk."

—

Shanks made it to Mihawk's castle where he knew you would be at. After demanding to see you, Mihawk came out to talk to him.

"You should know my wife is resting," Mihawk tells him.

"You took her from me," Shanks angrily tell him.

"I didn't take her from anyone. When I met her, she was alone," Mihawk informs him.

"She never told you about me?" Shanks asked.

"No she has. I just never told her that I knew you."

"Please. Let me see her!" Shanks asked.

"Let me see if she's well enough to move," Mihawk said.

"Is she sick?" Shanks asked.

"Not entirely."

Shanks waited anxiously for you to come down. His eyes widen when he saw Mihawk helping you down. Your stomach was large but he knew that it was because you were pregnant. And what's worse was that it wasn't Shanks's child you were carrying. It was Mihawk's child.

"Shanks?" You asked in shock.

"Hi, Y/n."

You sat in the garden with Shanks alone so you two could talk. Shanks stared at you, admiring your beauty once more. While you thought you were alone, Shanks knew that Mihawk was watching nearby.

“Are you happy my love?” Shanks asked you as he held your hand.

“I am. Hawk Eye makes me happy,” you tell him with a small smile.

“I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“I did wait for you Shanks. I really did. But I feared that if I waited any longer, I’d be too old for you,” you tell him with a frown.

“You could never be too old for me. You could have white hair and many wrinkles and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Shanks tells you. You smiled at him before tearing up.

“I loved you Shanks. And I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you longer."

“Don’t apologize my love. I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you sooner,” Shanks said. You nodded before taking off your makeshift necklace that held the ring Shanks gave to you. You handed it over to Shanks before kissing his cheek.

“I hope life treats you well and I hope you find a woman who will love you endlessly as much as I did,” you tell him.

“And if Hawk Eyes dares to lay a hand on you, come find me. I’ll protect you.”

“I know you will."

"So this is goodbye then huh?" Shanks asked you.

"If you find Luffy, tell him I miss him and love him dearly. And that, he's more than welcome to visit me or find me whenever he wants," you tell him. After all, Luffy was yours and Shanks's unofficial son and you two were his unofficial parents.

"Goodbye, Shanks,” you tell him before giving him a kiss on the cheek once more.

“Goodbye, my love.”

—

You sat on the couch in your lounge room waiting for your son to arrive with his new fiancée. Twenty five years had gone by and you had lived your life. Dracule sat next to you as you both waited for your son to come home. Now that your husband has retired from being a pirate, he had spent his time with you while your children explored the world.

“I wonder what she’ll be like,” you tell your husband.

“I trust his judgement. After all, I chose well didn’t I?” Dracule joked.

“You most certainly did,” you smiled.

“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” You heard your son say.

“Over here!” You called from where you were.

You smiled at your son the moment he walked in but your eyes widen from the sight of the woman next to him. Not only did she have the exact same hair as Shanks, but she also had the same eyes as him. It was no doubt that she was Shanks's daughter.

“Mother. Father. This is my fiancée, May,” your son said proudly. You smiled at the woman before getting up from your chair to greet her.

“It’s nice to meet you, May,” you tell her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Mihawk.”

“Please call me Y/n,” you tell her as you shook her hand. You noticed her necklace with a ring on it. It looked exactly like the one Shanks gave to you from years before.

“I like your necklace,” you say.

“Oh thank you. My father gave it to me. Said it was his prize possession,” she tells you. You felt your heart break a little from what she said.

“Will we be able to meet your parents soon?” You asked.

“Unfortunately no. My mother passed away from childbirth and my father passed away not too long ago,” she tells you. You frown from hearing that.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m really glad to have met your son,” May tells you. You smiled at her before giving her a hug.

“Well, I know my son will treat you well. And if he doesn’t, you tell me,” you tell her. May smiled at you before looking at your son.

At the end of the night, you stood outside on your balcony as you stared up at the stars.

Maybe this was the universe telling you that in another life, you and Shanks end up together. But you did wish he didn’t have to be gone so soon. You wished that he would’ve came back to you sooner and maybe you two could've had the future you two wanted together.

#shanks x reader #live action shanks #live action shanks x reader #red hair shanks #red hair shanks x reader #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #live action mihawk x reader #live action mihawk #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #peter gadiot #steven john ward #enchanted universe #alisonwritesimagines

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barcaatthemoon · 1 month

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loveable || jenni hermoso x reader ||

you overhear jenni and think she isn't interested in you.

there was something going on between you and jenni. everybody could see it except for the two of you. the two of you had a tendency of getting very flirty, something that had annoyed your barcelona teammates to no end. alexia and the others had been hopeful that maybe with jenni's move to mexico things would change a bit, but it only seemed to get worse.

if jenni had been bad before, the distance only made her worse. she was clingier than normal, going from flirtatious little touches to literally hanging off of you sometimes. there was rarely a moment whenever the two of you were near each other that she didn't have you tucked under her arms or was carrying you around on your back.

to alexia, it was sickening, which was why she had to say something. both you and jenni deserved to be happy in her mind, and maybe if the two of you just fucked, she wouldn't have to witness all the constant flirting. that was her intention when she approached jenni about you.

"okay, enough, it has to stop," alexia said as she shoved jenni into a room. she pushed the door behind her, but didn't check to make sure that it actually shut.

"what has to stop? i'm not doing anything," jenni huffed. alexia crossed her arms over her chest, unimpressed with jenni seemingly playing dumb. "stop looking at me like that."

"what's going on with you and (y/n)?" alexia asked. jenni shrugged as she leaned against the wall. that answer definitely wasn't good enough for alexia, who moved in towards jenni with the intention of intimidating her. jenni wasn't scared of alexia, however, and she never had been. jenni pushed up from the wall and squared up to alexia, knowing the younger woman would back down. "just ask her out."

"i'm in mexico now, and i'm not just going to come running back to spain, so it won't work. the distance will be too much, and she can't handle that. she's too young, alexia," jenni snapped. alexia was surprised to see her get to anger so quickly. there was obviously more going on than what jenni let on, so alexia pulled her over to sit down and really talk to her.

…

you hadn't meant to overhear alexia and jenni. the eavesdropping technically was done on purpose, but when your name was brought up, you were curious. jenni seemed to flirt with you a lot, even more than she did with everybody else. it was getting to the point where pina and patri were relentlessly teasing you at every chance they got. you had been looking for jenni to ask her out, both of them not having let up on the pestering since you got the call to come to national camp.

"what's wrong?" pina asked as she watched you stomp past them. you didn't stop to even look at them as you went straight up to your room. pina could tell that something was really wrong, so she pulled patri and ona away to talk to you. "(y/n)!"

"just leave me alone, please. i don't want to talk to you guys right now," you told them. that would have been enough for pina to leave you alone, but patri never really knew when to quit. if anything, your words had only made it more important in her mind to talk to you.

"did something happen little one?" patri asked as she pressed a kiss to your temple. you crumpled in her arms, unable to stop the tears from falling. it felt like forever before you were calm enough to tell her what happened with jenni. patri was quick to anger, as was pina. if it wasn't for ona, the two would have stormed off before you were even finished telling them what had happened.

"i'll kill her," pina hissed through grit teeth. ona rubbed the woman's back, hoping that it would soothe her anger a bit. "how dare she say that about (y/n). i'll kill her ona, i will."

"getting angry right now won't help. i am sure that jenni did not mean it like that. come on, we've all seen the way jenni looks at (y/n) when she's not paying attention," ona whispered. you were fast asleep on the bed, exhausted from crying, but ona didn't want to risk waking you up.

"well, i'm going for a walk," patri announced. pina stood up with her, only to be pulled back down by ona.

"only one of you can go, just one," ona told them. patri glanced back at (y/n) on the bed and nodded towards pina. you'd want your best friend there when you woke up, and truthfully, patri didn't want to get kicked out from camp while you were still so upset.

…

"hola bonita," jenni greeted you with a smile. you ignored her as patri walked you past her. jenni frowned, too upseet about you ignoring her to even notice the death glare being sent from your friend. "hey! what's wrong?"

"just go away jenni," patri warned. she placed her hand on the older woman's chest to keep some distance between you and her. jenni didn't like that one bit and started to push forward, prepared to shove past patri to get to you. however, it was alexia's hand on the back of jenni's shirt that kept her from charging forward.

"go in the conference room," alexia ordered. jenni walked away, huffing and puffing as she did. alexia turned past patri and towards you. "(y/n), i need you to go to the conference room. jenni has something she'd like to say to you."

"i would rather not talk to jenni right now," you told her. alexia sighed, knowing exactly why. whenever pina had come knocking on her door, alexia had been taken aback by the anger and aggression coming from the younger player. a quick explanation had cleared things up, and alexia knew that she had to help fix things since she had partially been the cause of them.

"jenni, she can explain herself. you just need to let her know what you heard," alexia said. you didn't want to argue with your captain, so you politely asked patri to watch your plate for you while you went to find jenni. the conference room door was still open, jenni sitting on the table instead of any of the chairs.

"alexia says that we need to talk," you said, careful to close the door behind you. "i do not really want to talk to you though, not after what you said about me."

"i didn't sa- oh." jenni seemed to deflate as she realized what you had overheard. "i'm sorry, and i swear that i did not mean any of it."

"then why would you say it?" you asked her.

"because i was scared. i didn't want to start something with you only to never get to see you. i didn't want you to throw away the best club for your career so we could be closer because i knew that you would," jenni explained.

"you don't know that i'd move to mexico," you huffed. jenni absolutely knew that you'd follow her anywhere. you were extremely loyal, having moved from your hometown club and barcelona's rival, real madrid to barcelona at the insistence of your friends.

"you left madrid for patri. i'd hate to see the lengths you'd go for me," jenni joked. you shoved her away from you at the joke, but only because you knew that she had a point. all it would take for you to do something like that for jenni was if she asked. "hey! you're making it hard for me to apologize right now."

"some apology." this time, it was jenni's turn to shove you. the two of you got into a little shoving match until jenni ended up grabbing both of your hands. she pinned them down to your sides, leaning in just enough for you to smell her perfume. you looked over at her face to see her staring at yours, more specifically, your lips.

"i'm so sorry for what i said," jenni whispered. you bit your lip as you nodded in understanding. "i really do want you. i want to wake up next to you in the morning. i want to take you out on special dates. i want to go to sleep next to you at night. but fuck, right now i just want to kiss you."

"then do it," you told her. jenni moved forward quickly, pressing her lips to yours. you kissed her back, but only for a few seconds. jenni pouted when you backed away from her, mouth open to question what was wrong. "i can't do this if you're just gonna go back to some girl in mexico."

"i would never," jenni promised you. she pressed a kiss to each of your cheeks before she continued. "there are no other girls, and i don't think there will be. i love you, understood?"

"no you don't," you tried to argue. jenni dropped your hands and cupped your cheeks. "you don't love me jenni, you like me, there's a difference."

"i know that there is, and i love you. it's part of why i left, i thought you were with one of the little hooligans," jenni said, using alexia's nickname for your friend group.

"why would you want to love me?"

"why is it so hard to accept that you're loveable?" jenni asked you. she wanted to kiss you again and again, but this felt like a much more important talk to be having.

"i'm not special, and i know the kind of women you were with before me. it's scary jenni, and i don't think i can compare," you admitted. jenni frowned at you, unsure of what exactly she could tell you to prove you wrong. "i want you so badly that it hurts, but i don't think i deserve you."

"you deserve better than me, but if you'll have me, then i won't argue. you deserve the world, mi carina. i can't give you everything, but i will always make sure that you have my love," jenni promised you. you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, smiling into it.

"they warned me you could be corny, but i didn't know you were such a sap," you teased. jenni pinched your thigh as she stood up. you followed her back into the cafeteria with everybody else, finally feeling like you could actually eat now that you knew that jenni didn't really look down at you.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso imagine

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adonis-koo · 5 months

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wicked • 17

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 8k

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Note: it’s actually difficult to believe it’s been eight months since I’ve updated, went through two jobs, a friend group and a boyfriend who gaslit the absolute fuck out of me and made me experience female hysteria 😍 I wrote this chapter the night he broke up with me so it just has that nice little extra touch of ✨ intensity ✨ enjoy lovies and I will be back hopefully sooner then last time with another update

It felt wrong, packing a small case of clothes while so many things at the castle had yet to play out, and Wheein’s life was hanging in the balance of it.

You had no intentions to trudge your way to the barracks but here you were; early morning where all of the guards were training and the person you were looking for was watching them, hands on his hips as he called out to one of them to tighten their guard.

You hadn’t planned on talking to him today, but leaving without so much as saying a word felt wrong, and perhaps after everything that had happened you were searching for sober reassurance.

“Jungkook.”

Everybody froze at the sound of your voice, you ignored all the eyes on you, after having lived in Penumbra for almost a year, you had somewhere along the way gotten used to all of the eyes that constantly followed you.

The guards exchanged awkward glances with one another, Jungkook looked surprised by your appearance, eyes glancing over you as if you were a hallucination, but after a moment it was evident you weren’t going to disappear upon blinking.

He glanced between you and the guards before he waved them off, “Keep going.”

You couldn’t stand the hopeful look in his eyes, almost a bit bashful as you walked in line with him further away from the barracks, “How can you expect me to leave the castle when Wheein is in a dungeon? And furthermore sending your aunt to try and reconcile with me?”

Jungkook frowned, “Well I doubted you wanted to see me after my drunk display- which truth be told I hardly remember anything I said, and It’s probably for the best that I don’t, Y/n…” He sighed as he stopped, “It was only a suggestion, it crossed my mind about the estate because truthfully I think you would like it there, and it would be safe,” His hands tenderly grabbed your shoulders as your lips curled in anger but you said nothing, “And I think it would be good for you to put all of this out of your head for a few days. I’ll continue to handle things here and if things change with Wheein trust that I’ll be able to take care of it.”

Your expression didn’t change as Jungkook frowned, “I would also like to remind you that she’s been one of my closest friends since I was a child. You’re not the only one who cares for her.”

You begrudgingly looked away from him but your expression softened, a stab of guilt surging through your stomach at the realization that he was very much right, “I know, I’m sorry I just-”

“Don’t be,” Jungkook replied, “You have a mean bite but I can appreciate your loyalty. I can’t undo the past but I want to make things right. I…” Jungkook paused, looking hesitant his eyes darting away from you and then back to you once more.

You offered no words forcing him to sigh, as if it was difficult for him to admit, “I want to be with you Y/n, not as two people amicable due to marriage or friends on uneasy terms…” He bit down on his cheek, unable to hold your steely gaze as his hand hesitantly reached out, tenderly stroking along your jawline, “I want more than that with you, I want all of the fire and all of the rage, I want the pain, the hardships. I want you, all of you, every flaw that makes you, you.”

You hadn’t even realized your eyes had blurred until his thumbs were tenderly pushing your tears away, “Is this a declaration?”

“It’s a promise.” Jungkook’s eyes held such a softness in them filled with something you still felt uncertain to assume, “You told me that you wanted to bear the deepest parts of yourself to me, all of your insecurities, the parts you don’t like about yourself, the parts you may even hate, so I am standing here to tell you to show me, show me all of it, and I will still take you as you are.”

He was saying many overwhelming words to you, but you knew he was dancing around the most important word, you could see it in his eyes, how it lingered on the tip of his tongue.

But something was stopping him from truly confessing it.

Perhaps even after all of these months, it was still too soon.

Evidently so given your circumstances.

“I don’t want you away from me,” Jungkook admitted, a frown slowly forming on his lips, “But if that’s what it takes, I would wait a lifetime if it meant your forgiveness, if it meant a second chance to be with you.”

“Is that why you’re willing to send me away?” You sniffled, “Otherwise you’ll continue to drink and wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“It wasn’t my finest moment,” Jungkook gave a weak smile, “But you can’t deny it got my point across didn’t it?”

Just his smile made something in you crumble, a vast desire to embrace him here and to forgive him, surely you could put this all behind you…?

But a bigger part of you didn’t want to rush this, you didn’t want to be complacent anymore, that was how you got into this situation, how you immediately jumped to Claudin’s offer rather than confide in the person you were married to.

It was such a raw feeling, you could feel it licking at your very soul, trying to tame your desire to throw all caution to the wind once more.

And for a brief moment you could feel Jungkook have the same reaction as you, as if it took every fiber in his being to not beg you to stay, you don’t know if you could stand your ground against him again if he came on as strong as he had last night.

“Just for a few days.” You whispered out as he frowned, giving you an understanding nod.

“You’ll love it there.” His hands finally let go of you, somewhat reluctantly.

And then it was silent for a long moment, tension still lingering in the air and both of you clearly hesitant.

“Then…I’ll see you in a few days.” You mumbled and Jungkook nodded once more. It felt like the ground was trying to engulf your feet as you turned around, feeling oddly empty at your goodbye, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

What was it you had hoped for? A hug…?

Maybe a kiss…?

But then again, it felt as though you were no longer deserving of those things, Jungkook may have done things to hurt you but you had also done things to hurt him, how could you both love one another if you couldn’t trust one another first?

You wished Jungkook had reached out for you, to at least give you some form of affection before leaving, but he also knew this was true, and let you leave with no grief.

It left you feeling empty inside, but this was for the best.

You journeyed over horseback for the day, trying to leave your fretting heart behind as you nervously glanced back at the far away sight of the castle, what if something developed with Wheein?

You felt as though you were betraying her just by leaving, more than anything you were desperate to get her back, perhaps that was why Jungkook was sending you away, as if he sensed your desperation would only heighten the longer this went on.

Dare you say, he feared the worst might happen if you stayed.

Your grip tightened on your reigns, once more trying to put it out of your mind, taking a deep breath you took in the heady scent of the pine tree’s the surrounded you, the Estate was much closer to the mountains then you had anticipated, by midday you had journeyed far enough that snow had already reached the ground.

“Are you nervous?” Yoongi had slowed his horse down to ride next to you, his eyes however still scoured ahead for possible danger.

“What do you mean?” You frowned as you glanced at his back, hearing a branch snap as your eyes darted towards the left of him.

Your faithful companion Fenrir having accidentally broke the branch he had been carrying in his mouth the past hour he had grown fond of, a whine leaving him in disappointment as he picked up the bigger side.

“Journeying away from the castle during these trying times…” Yoongi glanced back at you, a frown of his own, “It can’t be easy leaving with everything that’s happened.”

You didn’t reply for a long moment, Yoongi slowed down to ride beside you as he curiously took in your expression.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally relented, “It is difficult, but…After a long night, I figured this was probably best. It seems like my involvement in things only tends to make them worse. And truthfully there's no telling what lengths I’d go to at this point to get Wheein back.”

“Oh?” Yoongi looked curiosity once more, “I didn’t realize you had such a taste for danger.”

His joke made a smile finally tug on your lips, “Neither did I before coming to Penumbra. It seems this kingdom has a way of bringing out the primitive nature in me. But then again, it seems people have always looked down on me when I think of it.”

“On you?” Yoongi scoffed in amusement, “Dryad Matron of Eunoia? It’s difficult to believe, you’re like a pillar of light to the commonwealth of Penumbra, it used to drive the Prince nuts during your engagement.”

“It did…?” You peered somewhat hesitantly at him.

This made Yoongi grin, “Oh yes, when news of your engagement first broke out it had the people ecstatic, it had him gagging every second he heard good things of you.”

“This is hardly making me feel better…” You winced, though a small part of you was amused to hear this, though you wish you could say the same.

It always seemed to you that people in Penumbra didn’t fully grasp just how much people feared them on the outside world, instead poking fun at the titles they had earned as if it was a little joke.

The whole two years of your engagement are two years you’d rather die then live through again, the anxiety that kept you up at night, the endless amounts of tears you cried, the emptiness it left inside you how no one even tried to comfort you.

Looking back you understood, nobody wanted to feed you lies to comfort you, but at the time, you didn’t understand, it felt cruel.

“Not everyone feels that way about me, evidently from what I saw in the Underside.” You replied, somewhat reminiscing on the horrendous memory of the mock version of you.

“You shouldn’t pay that any mind,” Yoongi scoffed, “The humor is juvenile there, everything it stands for is juvenile, even it’s name; the Underside was a joke, a mockery meant for every royal that has to say it’s name with seriousness, point being- they don’t respect anyone who won’t give them money.”

You only shook your head, “It’s not just that though, there has always been a small part of people and court alike who haven’t liked me, even long before I was engaged to Jungkook. I was known for having a temper,” It made you smile wryly, “-The Bitch of Eunoia, that’s what they ran around calling me behind my back. It was horrendous in Kimhae.”

“Was it now?” Yoongi looked amused by this, “That in some ways does, and doesn’t surprise me.”

“The court ladies in Eunoia often liked to call me that as well. But it was very pronounced by Kimhae court men. When I was younger, I used to wear traditional Eunoian attire when i’d visit. Apparently shoulders and knee’s used to drive them crazy. I had one of the aristocrats boldly ask me if I was an exotic woman of the night, willing to pay for me.”

Yoongi’s jaw had dropped making you laugh as he gestured you on, “What did you say?”

“Something along the lines of calling him a perverted old man whom ought to have his loins cut off for making such a comment to a women- let alone a Princess.” The memory made you smile as you shook your head, “The Bitch of Eunoia…why is it men are allowed to be angry Yoongi? Why is it women are shamed so?”

Yoongi let out a hum, “This is indeed a good question, but perhap it’s because they know a woman's scorn could even bring heaven out of the sky. I’m not all too surprised about Kimhae- but you said Eunoians called you this as well?”

Your smile became saddened, “By many court ladies yes,” You scratched your cheek in thought, “I was always lonely as a child…the war took a toll on me, I was temperamental and childish. But the court ladies as children, also liked to mock me and egg me on. As we grew older they grew closer and I still stayed a distance away. They’d find any reason to pick me apart or give me more work to do. They were practically leaping for joy when the news broke that I was engaged.”

“Why do you think that was though?” Yoongi asked, “That they didn’t like you?”

You shrugged, you had never really thought about it much, rather you preferred to keep the past where it was rather then dwell on it, “I suppose it had a lot to do with the fact that while we were all training to be healers I excelled more at it, it came naturally to me and they ended up putting me in the tents before the others. They all assumed it was from favoritism…Maybe it was,” You pondered on this briefly, “I just remember thinking it wasn’t fair.”

“Fair?”

You didn’t elaborate on the word for a long moment, feeling something akin to guilt bubble in your stomach.

You glanced off into the distance where the mountains towered high, it made you feel so tiny in comparison to its greatness, and briefly you felt awe.

You always admired nature, how vast it was compared to you and all your humanly troubles, you turned to it and it’s kin when you needed comfort and in these moments you could turn to it when you were also troubled with words.

It was difficult to adequately explain to people the rage you had felt since you were a child, anger had always been in your bones, from the moment you were born. Your mother used to tell you, that when she gave birth, you had come out of her womb with a roaring cry.

You craved to be vulnerable, to be soft and tender, to be all the things you were not, and you were many things, just not those.

Many people people heard you, they just never listened, didn’t understand.

“I had a lot of resentment as a child, to everything, the war, my parents, our country. I didn’t want to be a healer, I didn’t want to have to watch people in my care die, I didn’t want to attend the burnings or hear the whales of agony and pain, the cries of mourning, the people who blamed me for not being able to save their loved ones.”

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel haunted by those memories, watching the lifeforce leave someone's body as you tried to stop the bleeding, the maimed limbs and mangled bodies that were beyond your skill or help.

“I didn’t want to be made to go past our lesson times to keep studying, or made to go back in to practice when all the other girls were allowed to play. Or put in a tent over night while they all slept. It wasn’t fair.”You mumbled, perhaps still a lingering tone of resentment.

The past was the past, it couldn’t be changed, you had come to terms with this, but if you stopped and really thought about it, old feelings old eventually begin to resurface, it was why you tried so desperately to just forget about it.

At one time you blamed Penumbra, you hated it’s people for what they did, what they caused.

But then you married Jungkook and you journeyed here yourself, and saw with your own eyes, that these people, were simply people, who were also victims of their own royalty.

You felt the soft grip of a hand on your shoulder, “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” Yoongi held a face of sympathy, “We all felt the same, or…I suppose a mutual feeling on the opposite side of things. Children being forced to enlist into a war we didn’t want to wage with little choice…”

You gently grabbed his hand giving it a small squeeze, a weak smile on your face, “It wasn’t fair for any of us. We’re all a bi-product of our parents' sins. It’s up to us now to break that cycle.”

You had arrived to the estate by nightfall and it was shrouded in tall pine and fir trees, the aroma had you closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, just as Jungkook said, it truly was beautiful.

Snow covered the ground in a few inches, and a chill was left in your bones, but you settled in rather nicely, Yoongi had managed to get a fire going rather quickly and it was quiet in the solitude of the estate.

For once, it was nice to be able to breathe without being watched.

The first two days had went by surprisingly quick, but you had found a natural rhythm in nature, you went on long peaceful walks, kept yourself wrapped in a blanket while sitting on the terrace taking in the crisp cool air.

You had even spent the evening watching the snowfall outside, enchanted at how it came in big fluttering puffy balls, you had heard of snow before, but you had never actually seen it fall from the sky, like a thousand little gifts from the heavens.

It was dull and gray out today, the same as it had been for the last week now, at the estate was unsurprisingly no different.

Today however you had Yoongi set up some haybales in the pit area where guards would typically be trained, it was run down now, old boxes used as storage had been broken down and were hazardously strewn everywhere, long nine inch rusty nails sticking out of wooden pieces at razor sharp jagged angles.

But with Yoongi’s help you both had piled it up safely away and got a decent bit of space ready for training.

“Too stiff-”

“Ah!”

It was a second too late, you had already released the string, sending the arrow flying, it had veered off target as the string slapped your forearm with a sharp snap causing you to drop it.

Fenrir suddenly popped up from the ground where he had been laid out the last half hour, head cocked in concern at the noise that escaped you.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Yoongi groaned, “You can’t hold it with a stiff arm! Look at this!” He got up from his spot as he held up your arm by the wrist, “It looks like somebody gave you a lashing! Jungkook will have my head if it isn’t heal by tomorrow.”

Your lips twisted into a sulky pout, “I am trying!”

“Not hard enough that’s the fifth time within the hour,” Yoongi whistled out as he let you go, Fenrir walking up to you as he sniffed your hand, giving it a lick before nudging it.

You rubbed your forearm, that was undeniably sore and throbbing with pain before placing your hand on Fenrir’s head to give it a nice long rub.

He had grown remarkably big in the last month, almost as big as you now, just a five or six inches shorter, it made you give a sad frown, at how big he was and soon he’d become a monstrous size…

You’d simply have to build a bigger stable you supposed.

“Aim comes naturally but holding a weapon does not,” You sighed as you placed both your hands on Fenrir’s head, now giving him generous rubs and pats that had him giving a toothy puppy grin that made you smile, “I’ve practiced here and there with a bow but with everything going on, I just haven’t made it a priority.”

Yoongi sighed, “Natural ability will only get you so far, discipline if a far greater advantage Princess, thankfully we can start working on this daily, I think it’d be good for you to have a hobby.”

“I have hobbies.” You frowned as crossed your arms.

“Such as…?” Yoongi gestured.

“Well…” You could think of several as a matter of fact, but you had given them all up once you had moved to Penumbra, the thought made you frown in realization, you had been so caught up in all the highs and lows of your new life that it was true.

You had hobbies, you just never participated in any of them.

“I suppose it would do me some good to work on it,” You sighed as you relented, “I still feel a tad guilty though, shouldn’t I be honing my skill in swordsmanship? Jungkook once told me that it’s expected the Crowned Prince and Princess are supposed to be the best at it.”

“Well…” Yoongi stretched the word, “This is true but, I don’t think somebody is going to fault you for not being the best at it. I’d like to think it’s an expectation from those born in Penumbra, not those who marry in. Not only this but if you are inclined to another form of weaponry, then it’s as simple as that.

“As long as you have some form of sword training then it’ll do,” Yoongi shrugged, “What matters is personal protection, some training is better then none, but having a form of training you’re good at is even better.”

“You Penumbrian’s certainly like taking precautions.” You sighed wistfully as you picked up your bow once more.

“The more the better,” Yoongi said, “Guards are great, but what happens when you’re caught without any? Learning to defend yourself is vital.”

You glanced down at your bow, “I understand but…”

“But?” Yoongi asked.

“Well, I suppose a part of me just feels odd,” You replied, “I grew up being taught to save lives, not take them,” You rubbed your neck in uncertainty, “When I took the Dryad’s oath, it was a promise to myself and my ancestors that I would abstain from our carnal nature. That I would never take a life nor would I consume its flesh. Animal or human. Even though the chances of me having to defend myself in such a way are so low, it’s odd to train for it, after taking that oath and living by it my whole life.”

Yoongi let out a small smile, “Then don’t view it as such.”

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head.

“Sword play is considered an art form in Penumbra, you can view a bow in the same light. It’s quite a beautiful thing really, it’s not just aiming and shooting, it’s how you hold it, the type of arrow you use, the weight of your feet. A lot goes into it.”

You thought on this for a while before nodding, “I suppose you are right.”

“Min Yoongi! I’m looking for a Min Yoongi?”

A voice called out that had you both glancing around the courtyard before seeing the courier at the gates glancing around before meeting his gaze.

“Yes?” Yoongi called out, walking up to meet him.

“I have a letter for you sire! It was urgent from the court” The courier dug through his bag before handing it to him, giving a short bow to you and then departing.

You glanced at it anxiously as you exchanged a look with Yoongi, was this about Wheein?

Yoongi opened the letter, reading it before he sighed,

“What, what is it?” You asked, anxiety in your voice.

“It’s not about Wheein,” You let out a breath in relief as Yoongi continued, “But it is a request for help.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Yoongi sighed, “There’s a watchtower just east of here, about an hour away give or take on horseback, apparently they’ve been dealing with a gang of bandits up there. Supposedly they’re going to siege the tower.”

“They can do that?” You asked in surprise.

Yoongi shrugged, “I suppose so, I don’t know what they think I can do about it.”

“Well you said you were an assassin before you became a knight? So surely that counts for something.” You said, setting down your bow on a lonely bale of hay.

Yoongi sighed as he folded the letter back up, “Even so, I won’t just leave you here by yourself.”

You frowned, “It’s only us here, and it’s secluded so I won’t be in any real danger, and you said it was only an hour away. I doubt you’d take long in taking them down.”

“Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Yoongi asked in mild amusement.

“I would never!” You said, “But I’d hate to see something unfortunate happen that could be prevented, you’re far closer then someone is to the castle. It would make the most sense for you to go.”

Yoongi sighed, “Even if I’m over cautious, it doesn’t sit right leaving you here all by yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be alone!” You replied, grinning as you gave Fenrir a solid pat, “Fenrir will defend me! Jungkook and I have been working on commands. Sit!”

Fenrir immediately complied.

“Very fierce.” Yoongi said dryly.

You held up a finger, grabbing a piece of wooden box that was free of any nails off the ground, “Fenrir,” He perked up at his name, “Attack!” You threw it causing his gaze to follow it with a loud snarling howl, his jaws crunching the board in half immediately grabbing the smaller end.

Running back to you before dropping down on his front paws, tail wagging as he tried to get you to chase him.

Yoongi looked a bit more startled at the thick board of wood that had been crushed as he nodded, “Okay, a little more fierce than before…” Yoongi thought about it for a long moment, “I suppose if I left now I would make it back by supper….Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You gave him a small smile, “It’s only a few hours, I think I’ll be able to manage.”

Yoongi still seemed hesitant but he nodded, “I’ll go gather a few things then and be off. The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back.”

“It’s one night,” You smiled, “And then we’ll be back at the castle tomorrow.”

You had waved Yoongi off before you continued on with your day.

Spending another few hours training with your bow you had eventually given up once the string of your bow hit a particularly sensitive spot on your forearm.

The rest of your day had been spent taking walks along the trail’s with Fenrir before eventually settling inside, roaming the halls and exploring empty rooms.

And eventually the afternoon came.

But slowly the sun began to set and a vague feeling of dread followed along with it.

Yoongi…would’ve been back by now, right?

Or perhaps it took him longer to clear out the bandits.

You nodded at this as you stayed curled up in your large chair, Fenrir curled up beneath your feet as he let out a sigh, as if sensing your discomfort and unsatisfied with it.

Continuing to read, time went on and soon the sun had set.

You had managed to get a fire going on your own and had lit the candles in the hall, making the estate feel less consuming then it had before but it didn’t quell your anxiousness as the hour went on later.

Yoongi would certainly be back by now…

You were certain you’d manage the commute back to the castle if you had too but…You wouldn’t feel right just leaving without him, but you also had no way of sending a message to the castle for help without going back yourself.

You felt at a loss for what to do, as you roamed the main hall, pausing at the sound of the gate opening. Opening the doorway you hurried out to the courtyard.

“Yoongi, I’ve been waiting all day, you worried me sick!” You stopped short at the sight ahead of you.

“Not who you were expecting?”

Di Jin’s smug smile was the last thing you saw before the sudden blow to your head caused your vision to go dark.

“You look lost.” Jimin commented as he plopped in a seat right next to his dearest friend, both sat out for breakfast on the terrace.

“Was it a good idea sending her to the Estate?” Jungkook stared down in hard contemplation, his food untouched, “If something happens I won’t be able too…!”

He inhaled sharply as he forced himself to lean back in his chair, but despite the motion his body refused to relax.

You had left two days ago and he felt a void ever since.

Jungkook didn’t realize how much your presence had filled every inch of the castle until you had left, and now, he felt utterly useless, it was one thing for you to be mad at him, it was another for you to be gone.

Jimin looked amused but felt bad for him nonetheless, “Nothing is going to happen to her, the estate is nice and tucked away, the entire court has forgotten about it anyways, it hasn’t been used in years. You did a good thing.”

“Did I?” Jungkook finally slumped.

He had been constantly replaying his last memory of you, the conversation you both had before you left, the memory of you looking up at him for a long moment as if silently yearning for some form of affection.

It left Jungkook’s hands twitching and an unfamiliar ache in his chest, he couldn’t even describe how it felt. And he was honest when he spoke with you the night before, true he didn’t remember much, but what he did remember was straight from his heart, he thought he knew many things.

But after meeting you he found out quickly that he knew nothing at all.

Tomorrow, surely you’d be back tomorrow. You hadn’t given him an exact timeframe, but surely when you said a few days, you had meant no more then three?

“What if I-”

“No.” Jimin cut him off, “The whole point of her going was to get out of the castle and by default away from you. Not only that but what if something happened to Wheein while you were gone?”

Jungkook sunk back in his chair, that was right…He had promised you he would take care of anything that might possibly happen.

He wouldn’t let you down.

“Have you found any evidence yet?” Jungkook lowered his voice, his gaze lingering on the far side of the table where Claudin had been dining with a group of court ladies.

Jimin frowned, “Yes but the problem is getting it open,” He huffed, “I was able to slip into his room last night, it was empty but he has a lock box beneath a hollowed broken floorboard piece, seems he was in a hurry when he left, otherwise it wouldn’t have been left afar.

“Regardless I haven’t been able to crack the lock. Whatever is in there, it has a master’s lock on it. I’ll need at least another dozen picks before I even come close to cracking it.”

Jungkook sighed as he shook his head in disdain, “Of course when we need Yoongi he’s gone.”

Their elder would be able to open it within the hour if he was here.

Jimin frowned as well, “I’ll try again this afternoon.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, “That’s early for you.”

“We’re running out of time Jungkook,” Jimin sighed, sinking back into his chair as well, eyeing Claudin with a certain wryness, “I keep hearing stirrings from the guards about how they’ve narrowed their search, but they’re hellbent on saying it was Wheein.”

“Sire,”

They both paused at the sight of Taehyun, a frown on his face as he glanced between them both, an anxious look as he bowed slightly, “It’s the council…they’ve summoned you. It doesn’t sound good, you should come as well Jimin.”

Jungkook glanced at his friend but said nothing as he stood up, not liking this one bit.

The walk to the throne room was swift and Jungkook wasted no time in arriving, the other council members had just arrived as well.

Clearly he wasn’t the only one uncertain of what was going on, other members had started hushing whispers to one another, all glancing in Jungkook’s direction occasionally as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he glanced at the empty throne the seats on its left occupied by his aunt and uncle whispering to one another.

They both glanced at him once before quickly looking away.

The tension felt suffocating and the longer it lasted the more anxious Jungkook felt, seconds turned into minutes and the whispers began to get louder.

And all within a moment, the doors open and a sweepingly silence took over the room save for the sound of boots against the ground. Dae Seong walked with confience in every step before standing before everyone on the throne.

“It is with confidence I have come to announce something of the utmost importance,” His voice boomed, “The attempted assassination on our Crowned Princess, was indeed committed by her maid Jung Wheein, we have reason enough to believe it was her as all the evidence points as such. Her form of punishment will be burning at the stake, tonight at the height of the moon. I ask you all join me on this divine distribution of punishment,”

Groaning softly your vision was blurry at first, and the first person to appear in your vision was not who you expected.

“Not so quick witted now are you Eunoian Bitch,” Seohyun sneered, her smirking figure beneath you as your vision of her doubled.

Your mind was confused as you only remembered Di Jin being here, your eyes closed briefly only for a sharp pain to spread through your side that you recognized as being kicked in the side by her.

Groaning your eyes opened and her eyes beaded, sneering at you as another voice spoke, “Come along now Seohyun, why don’t you go see if that insufferable knight has managed to come back yet, I will finish our business here.”

She eyed you warily but said no more as she left and soon Di Jin stood in front of you, “You have truly been a pain in my ass since I was enlisted to kill you, I only hope you realize that.”

There was no remorse in his eyes as he pulled the wickedly curved knife from it’s sheath and a sadistic smile curled on his face, “Don’t worry Princess, i’ll make sure you have a slow miserable death.”

Despite your sluggish movements, adrenaline had shot in your veins as you realized you were about to die, you had too much to live for still. You needed to see what would come of Eunoia, you needed to make sure Wheein was okay, that you would keep your promise to Jungkook.

You couldn’t die, and you would fight if it meant living to see it.

Your mind was slowly coming out of it’s haze as Di Jin stepped closer to you, realizing you were in the courtyard near the hay bales, the pile you had cleaned early next to you, your arm reached over to grab one of the planks, three long rusted nails sticking out of it.

You swung it with as much force as you could towards his legs, it made contact, the nail piercing his skin with a wet noise as he cried out in pain, falling back on the ground as he growled out. “You dumb bitch, a pain until the end!”

You attempted to crawl away, heart pounding in your ears as you scurried but he was still too mobile, yanking the plank out of his leg with a growl of pain as he managed to get on top of you, you caught his wrists as he attempted to plunge the knife in your throat, “I’ll enjoy watching the life leave your eyes. I’ll be sure to bring your head back for your little husband to see one last time.”

Your strength was already failing as you winced out, the knife slowly coming closer to your skin as you whimpered out as it pierced the first layer of your flesh.

It was an indescrible pain that had you yelping in pain,

“I’ll make these last few moments the most excruciating and perhaps if you beg me enough, I might just end your pathetic little life girl,” Di Jin grinned leaning in closer, “Maybe if you beg me more i’ll give you a little more than just a long death.”

He pushed the knife a little deeper as blood spilled from your skin making you cry out, his body weighing heavier on yours and his lips suddenly pressing to your ear, “Something tells me you’d prefer that over this.”

Something about his lips pressing against your skin lit something primal inside of you, every sense heightened inside you as your lips parted taking a wide bite into his neck, you could taste it first, the metallic flavor of blood running across your tongue and dripping down your throat and then his skin was next, uncomfortably soft and tender and next was the cartilage, it was rubbery and had hard bits in it, next was the sensation of something warm and wet against your face.

Di Jin could no longer properly speak, his grip suddenly loosened on the knife as you yanked the large chunk of flesh straight from his neck, grabbing the knife as you yanked it away shoving him down as you managed to get on top of him.

The chunk missing from his neck was ghastly, blood pooling on the ground, oozing everywhere and squirting from various places and he was gagging loudly, choking on his own blood.

Anger trembled in your body, it wasn’t enough, even with chunks of flesh missing and blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible it still wasn’t enough, before you could even think you plunged the knife into his neck, eyes blurring as you watched him gurgle, choking on his own blood as the life left his eyes.

Your hands were shaking as you waited for him to jump back to life to kill you, and then you slowly realized your vision was blurred from tears, your heart pounding as you took a shaky breath yanking the knife out of his neck before you let out blood curdling scream slamming it back in his neck again.

Jungkook’s betrayal.

Wheein being taken.

Exiled from your own kingdom.

Being forced to wed.

Made into a healer as a child.

Bone.

Blood.

Ash.

The mourning bells rang in your head and you could vividly taste the metallic on your tongue stronger than ever as the taste of raw flesh lingered in your throat.

Blood splattered upward as you stabbed the spot over again, all of the rage searing in your veins as Di Jin’s form became disfigured, his neck nearly separating his head from his body as you shoved the knife in deeper.

Hearing the wet gurgling noise as you heaved a breath, staring at his cold dead eyes staring back at you, the next scream was not your own, but it came closer within seconds before the door to the estate opened.

Seohyun was heavily bleeding from her left thigh, sporting a large bite as a loud snarl came from inside the door, shakily you stood up, “Fenrir, wait.”

The large wolf paused, and that's when you noticed the large gash on his leg, causing him to limp, rage quelled in your veins again as you limped over, Seohyun looked pale a ghost at the sight of you.

From the moment this woman met you, she had given you nothing but grief, attempted to humiliate you, belittle you, try to win a lost battle, attempt to kill you, and now she had hurt your precious companion.

Even with a mangled body behind you, it still wasn’t enough.

Tripping over her own two feet she fell down as you walked over, “We can talk about this Y/n!” Her eyes were as big as saucers, “Please! I’ll leave Penumbra and- and never come back.”

You felt nothing for her as you stood above her, watching pathetic tears drip down her face for a long moment, finally you knelt down, “If Penumbra has taught me anything Seohyun, It’s that some people do not deserve my forgiveness, nor my kindness.”

Her lips parted rapidly, her throat scratchy, and for the first time, you saw genuine fear in her eyes, “B-but you’re a Eunoian,”

Her words were pointed, bargaining, pleading even- if you listened close enough, “Eunoian’s don’t kill.”

Your lips slowly lifted into a joyless smile as you let out an uneasy laugh, “Well,” Your smile dropped, your hands were still shaky, unbridled rage still taunt in your veins.

The primal urge of need to prove her wrong, prove all of them wrong, that you would never again be looked down upon as weak or underestimated.

Your hand grabbed her neck, causing her to let out a choked sob as you squeezed it tight enough to choke her airway, yanking her nearly nose to nose with you.

“We’re not in Eunoia, are we?” Your nails dug into her neck, not stopping until you felt the blood from her skin oozing, you shoved her back before you stood up, ignoring her blubbering, tears trickling down her face as you walked away, “Fenrir.”

“Please!”

He let out a growl, “Attack.”

Her cries of agony were left of deaf ears as you walked back over to the corpse of Di Jin grabbing the knife from his neck and yanking it out before taking the sheath that went with it, adjusting it on your waist.

Collapsing on the ground away from him you noticed your hands for the first time, shaking, trembling as your vision blurred once more, scarred and covered in blood, just what had you done?

Fenrir’s mouth was covered in blood, but the whine didn’t escape your ears as he tenderly tried to sit down in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You ushered, grief strong in your voice though uncertain of who it was for, yourself, your country, your companion, you reached out for him, gently rubbing your hand down his neck, “But we have a long journey ahead of us Fenrir.”

The bells were ringing and a somber air had taken over, Jungkook had nearly lost his entire wits, his father had banished him from the room, not wanting to hear another word from him about this.

Being told he was too sentimental fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care, it was his friend, it was injustice, it was corrupt. He hated it, he hated that despite being the crowned prince, his son, his father simply didn’t care.

All Jungkook could do was wait for Jimin to unlock this damn box. But it felt as though it was too late, he was banned from so much as leaving his room, guards at his door there to keep him boxed in but this wouldn’t stop him.

pulling the cloak over his head, he opened the window, the bricks were jagged and uneven enough that he could easily climb down, he did it often when he was younger, much to the blindness of his father.

Scaling the wall, Jungkook got down, feet planted firmly on the ground as he kept the hood over his head tight as he made his way to the courtyard. A crowd had gathered, all wanting to witness the supposed assassin.

Nobody paid mind to him with his identity concealed, it would be soon now. If he couldn’t get evidence to get Wheein out, then Jungkook would take matters into his own hand. He didn’t want to have Wheein leave Penumbra, but if this is what it took to keep her safe until her innocence was proven, this is what he would do.

He owed so much of his existence to her, he couldn’t let this happen.

He wasn’t going to let this happen.

The bells stopped as Dae Seong stood up from his throne on the wooden stage they had set up, “We have all gathered here to see the execution of the assassin who tried to kill our crowned princess! Her very own handmaid, this is the killer, our own flesh and blood, and the punishment for a traitorous woman is fitting, burning of the steak!”

Wheein was brought out, her hands tied behind her back, her eyes had dark circles and she was crying as she shook her head, “Please! I would never do that to Penumbra! To Y/n! Please you have to believe me!”

But her cries were in vein as the crowd boo’d her, all shouting vile words her way as they dragged her down to the large wooden steak pyre that had been set up.

Jungkook shifted in his spot as he watched them begin to tie her up.

“Are there any last words you would like to impart to us traitor?” Dae Seong looked at her with pure disgust.

Wheein’s lips quivered as she parted them.

A loud bloodcurdling scream interrupted her before she could speak, the crowd tensed and everyone seemed alert, Jungkook was towards the front, having intended on getting her off there the right moment, but he quickly turned around to see people quickly departing and creating a path.

And the next thing he saw was hardly comprehensible.

You, covered in blood, your face was a horrific sight with it’s dried crimson color covering your mouth all the way down your neck, but what was even more horrifying was what was next to you, Fenrir limping beside you, a corpse held in his mouth.

Women screamed and men gasped in horror as they all moved.

The looks on the royals faces were indescribable, Dae Seong most of all, “What is the meaning of this?”

You stopped in front of the throne, Fenrir as if knowing this was the destination, dropped the body from his jaws, it smacked the ground with a wet echo, the head finally detaching from the body as it rolled towards Dae Seong.

You don’t think you had ever seen an expression quite like what Dae Seong had, and you were sure this would be the only time.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally spoke, your throat raw and scratchy, “That’s your assassin, he tried to kill me again just hours ago.”

Dae Seong’s look of shock slowly twisted into one of rage, “Where is your proof of this!” He stood up from his throne towering over you with a growl, “What does a girl like you have meddling in business you don’t understand and taking the lives of those who were helping!”

“Am I standing in front of you not proof enough?” You snarled back, “From the moment I have come to this kingdom I have been nothing but disrespected, disregarded, used, and seen as nothing more than a tool to further someone’s agenda. And i’m sick of it.”

“Even when it comes to my own life, you stand in front of me questioning it!”

“Why I ought too!-”

“I have it!” A voice cried out, Jimin was running from the side entrance of the courtyard, a notebook in his hand as he panted, his eyes widening when they set on you, ‘Y/n!? Are you okay? I have it, I have proof that Di Jin was the assassin! Here, your majesty.”

Dae Seong snatched it with a certain level of venom as he looked through the book, but slowly as his eyes read through, an unreadable look took over his face.

Exhaustion began to take over, your body beginning to sway.

Dae Seong closed the book with a sense of finality, “Very well,” He aid with gritted teeth, anger still simmering in his eyes, “Perhaps, you do have the grit to survive here princess.”

You didn’t hear his words though, your gaze had went down to the body of Di Jin, and swaying backwards you collapsed into an abyss of darkness, nothing more then multiple people calling your name.

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #prince!jungkook #bts au #Jungkook imagine

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rollinouttahere-writes · 5 months

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It took the better part of a year, but I've finally figured out where to go with Joyride. A lot of people have been asking for this, so I hope it lives up to your expectations.

Joyride (Part 2)

Part 1

Yandere Ace x GN Isekai Reader

4.8k words

Warning! This contains pretty much every Ace related spoiler btw!

When going into a world you already know everything about, you don’t exactly expect to be surprised by anything. Sure, there will be slight changes and alternate interactions now that you’ve been unceremoniously dropped in, but you had been anticipating for the story to follow all the same beats.

Which is why you were really thrown off when Ace didn’t go his separate way when he was supposed to.

Luffy had succeeded in defeating Crocodile and stopping his plan for dictatorship of Alabasta, but Ace was still here. Granted, having Ace around was hardly the worst thing that could happen, but you didn’t understand what was going on with him.

After your downright bizarre interaction during the little joyride he took you on, you’d honestly had every intention of avoiding him going forward. Then he threw a curveball at you by sincerely apologizing later that night. With everything going on right now he just got a little carried away, that’s all, he won’t harass you about it again. Or so he claimed.

You were skeptical initially, but true to his word, he hasn’t brought up you joining the Whitebeard Pirates since. Between that, and him having an unknown advantage over you by being a favorite character of yours, it was easy to find it within yourself to forgive him. You two have been borderline inseparable since, much to the chagrin of your crewmates.

While Ace hadn’t openly made further attempts to convince you to join his pops’ crew, he’d found a thinly veiled loophole in the form of telling you all kinds of stories about them. You knew this was in and of itself, a method to win you over, but deemed it not worth calling out. Besides, who were you to refuse the opportunity to get some Whitebeard Pirates lore?

There were many late nights filled with quiet conversations about various shenanigans the crew got up to in their free time, of which there were many. An unsurprising fact because of course having that many sibling jam packed onto a ship would turn it into a vessel of chaos.

If you had a weaker resolve, these stories might have won you over. But no, you need to go home.

Even though you weren’t convinced on switching crews, or even just staying here, there was a different problem arising from all your quality time together.

The longer you spoke and goofed around with him, the deeper and more intricate the conversations became, the more human he became to you. Or course, he’d technically always been a human being, but your mind had always registered him (as well as everyone else here) as a “character” first and foremost. A figure in a fictional story which you just so happened to be in temporarily.

Now? After spending so much time with him, aftering seeing him make decisions based off his own experiences and preferences rather than being dictated by some omnipotent author, things have changed. He wasn’t Portgas D. Ace, the fan favorite character from One Piece. He was just Ace, your friend.

With this came something you never saw coming. Guilt. An all consuming, agonizing guilt that picked away at you every single second of the day.

You knew what was to come. You knew what was going to happen to him. What were you doing about it? Absolutely nothing. And for what? For the sake of preserving a story that’s already been altered from your mere presence?

What a disgusting excuse of a friend you were.

The internal conflict you were going through hadn’t gone unnoticed, not when it was taking such a high toll on you. Nami was the first to start grilling you on it. Naturally, she immediately started pointing fingers at Ace as being the cause, which while not wrong, she wasn’t correct in the way she believed herself to be either. It was hardly his fault that you had a heavy conscience.

Sanji had also picked up on your struggles and was very concerned about the bags under your eyes, even offering to make some tea to assist with sleeping. An offer you turned down perhaps more harshly than truly necessary, but being trapped in a deeper sleep sounded awful with the nightmares you’ve been having.

It had been upsetting enough to watch Ace die through a screen, but in your dreams you were right there. It felt so real.

A suffocating heat burned at your skin and seared your lungs with every panicked breath, which only became more frantic as hot blood splattered over your face. Life was rapidly draining from Ace’s eyes as he collapsed into the waiting arms of his now deeply traumatized brother.

Your feet were rooted to the ground, all you could do was stare in horror as he looked up at you with tearful, pleading eyes. “Why?” The word was more so coughed out than spoken, spraying out more blood that he couldn’t afford to lose. An arm extended towards you, the hand locking onto your own. His nails dug into your skin, drawing out blood of your own to mix with his into a revolting cocktail. “You could have stopped this. How could you do this to me?”

The last word was wheezed out and his body went limp as his dead, lifeless eyes stared through you. A soul wrenching scream tore its way out of Luffy’s throat, only to morph into your own as you were mercifully ripped from your slumber.

The screaming damn near gave Ace a heart attack, you’re sure of it. This nightmare had occurred after you and him had become separated from the rest of the group while traversing the desert, and you had found a compact cave for the two of you to pass the night in.

What made it worse was how he reacted. He was so concerned, even fretting over you as you desperately tried to get your breathing under control. The compassion in his eyes had done nothing to comfort you, it only served to further sicken you. Here he was wanting to save you from something as trivial as a nightmare, yet you couldn’t be bothered to speak up on and prevent his upcoming demise.

The guilt was killing you, and the solution was not only clear, but easy. So why couldn’t you bring yourself to just tell him? To plead and beg for him to give up the chase and not throw his life away. Yet your lips remained sealed.

All of these elements came to a boil and demanded your attention, so you did what seemed to be the easiest thing to do in your situation. Drink it away.

Now that Luffy had awoken from his brief coma after fighting Crocodile, Alubarna Palace was hosting a lavish party in celebration and thanks for what everyone had done. And what high end party would be complete without absurd amounts of alcohol?

It started with one, purely to help ease your nerves. However, when it didn’t, you poured yourself another. And then a few more. Zoro had initially been thrilled to have you as a drinking buddy, but apparently even he had his limits and had cut you off.

“The hell’s gotten into you? You’re drinking like you’re trying to run from demons,” the bottle of expensive liquor had been moved out of reach when you tried to go for it again.

“You have no idea,” you slurred out, head spinning from your evening of poor decision making.

Zoro shot you a questioning look, but didn’t press it, likely knowing full well that getting a coherent conversation out of you right now would be impossible. He heaved out a sigh and stood up, “I’m going to get you some water, stay right there.”

Thoroughly defeated, you slumped back into your chair. After all that, you still couldn’t get your dilemma out of your head. Your “demons” continued gnawing at your soul, and all that your drinking had done about it was ensure that you would have a miserable hangover in the morning.

Your head lulled to the side, and you caught sight of a familiar orange hat. Speak of the devil. While you were in the throws of self inflicted misery, Ace was happily taking advantage of all the food being offered. Good for him. He deserved a nice night.

As if acting on its own, your body managed to get up onto its feet. You shambled towards him, doing your best not to fall flat on your face with each uncoordinated step. Whatever invisible force that had been helping you to make the walk to Ace failed you at the last second, and you crashed into him from behind.

“Shit! Wha- Oh, it’s just you,” Ace whirled around, visibly agitated, but his features relaxed when he realized who it was. He appeared to be ready to say more but you cut him off.

“I need to talk to you.”

Ace quirked a brow, “Yeah? What’s up?”

From the expectant look he was giving you, it’s clear that he’s waiting for you to spill your guts here and now. You shook your head, “No, it’s… It’s a secret. We have to go somewhere else.” Realization flashed across his face and he nodded. Fortunately for you, he led the way. You honestly did not think you’d be able to scout out a place for this discussion. You were finally going to come clean and tell him everything before you could sober up and come to your senses.

It was going well. At least it was, until he passed out and took you down with him. You both collided onto the floor with a resounding thud, him on top of you. The hall you’d slipped into was empty, meaning there was no one here to help you.

You groaned as you attempted to move, the fall had hit you harder than it should have thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol in your system. You were also mentally kicking yourself for not seeing this coming. He was eating when you stumbled into him, of course it was only a matter of time before this happened.

Whatever, there isn’t time to be bemoaning a minor inconvenience. You manage to shimmy out from under him and use the wall to get to your feet. Ace is snoring on the floor, not a care in the world. Hopefully he’ll wake up soon.

Taking a look around, you see a door just a couple steps away. You inch your way over to it and try the knob. It clicks open, and you peer in. Looks like some sort of guest room, and it’s empty. Perfect.

Pushing the door open fully, you turn back to Ace. He’s still asleep, but you don’t want to wait around for him to wake up on his own and run the risk of being seen. You lean down to grab the closest part of him, his right foot, and pull. You’re not sure if he’s actually heavy, or if you’re just too drunk for this, but you tip over while trying to do this and fall flat on your ass.

“Huh?” Ace’s head snapped up and he looked around owlishly. The second his eyes connected with yours, he remembered what he was doing before his narcoleptic tendencies took the wheel. He laughed, a light blush on his face, as he got to his feet, “Sorry about that, you alright?”

“I’m fine, get in here,” you urged him to hurry, which he did. In the time it took you to stand again, Ace had already slipped into the room, closed the door, and flicked on a lamp so you two wouldn’t be talking in complete darkness. You eye the door for a moment, then grab a chair and drag it over to wedge it under the doorknob. Someone walking in on the conversation you were about to have would be something of a worst case scenario.

Ace watched this curiously, “Is everything okay?”

This probably looked weird, but oh well, it’s about to get a lot weirder. You decide to sit on the bed and motion for Ace to join you, which he does. You take one of his hands in both of yours and stare at him intensely, “I need to tell you something. It’s going to sound insane, but you need to promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.”

He repeated his previous question, asking again if everything was okay, but you cut him off, “Promise me, please!”

Your desperation got through to him, “Okay, I promise! What’s going on?”

Here goes nothing. You take a deep breath and take the leap, “You need to stop going after Blackbeard.”

Ace recoiled immediately, and if you hadn’t been holding onto his hand for dear life, he probably would have backed away from you. “What? I can’t do that, why would y-”

“Let me finish!” You snapped at him, only to immediately regret it. You sighed, “Please. There’s more, please let me finish talking first, and then you can talk.”

While he did not look happy about it, he did relax his shoulders and settled back into the bed. You took this as your cue to continue, “You need to stop going after Blackbeard because you will die if you do.” Ace exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes at this, assuming that this was coming from a place of fear and doubt.

“I know this because,” you took in a shuddering breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. “I know this because in the world that I came from… This world is a story.”

Ace stares at you wide eyed and slack jawed. He laughed, but was very clearly uncomfortable, “I, uh, I think you’ve had a little too much to drink tonight. How about I take you back to your room to sleep it off, okay?”

He tried to stand, but you yanked him back down, “No! I’m not drunk! Well, I mean, I am, but I know what I’m talking about! I can prove it.”

His expression was nothing short of incredulous, but he indulged you, “Yeah, okay, sure. Go ahead, prove it.”

“You’re hunting down Blackbeard because he murdered Thatch so he could steal his devil fruit,” you started light. Ace had told you about Thatch being the one he was avenging, but he’d never mentioned the devil fruit before, likely not deeming it an important enough detail. His brows knit together and his eyes drifted upwards as he racked his brain to remember if maybe he actually had said something about it.

“Before you were with Whitebeard, you were captain of the Spade Pirates. Your first member was Masked Deuce, who you met while being stranded on an island together. It’s where you found your devil fruit and built Striker,” he hadn’t told you anything in regards to his old crew, and his face reflected that. You definitely had his attention now.

“You and Luffy were raised by mountain bandits because Garp couldn’t raise you two himself. It wasn’t just you guys, though, you had another brother named Sabo, but he was killed when he tried to set sail and got shot down,” at this point, you were saying whatever came to mind with no regard to whether or not it was a good idea to say this right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to keep looking him in the eye, so you settled for staring at his hand in yours. It was completely slack.

“Your parents are Portgas D. Rouge and Gol D. R-”

Before you could finish the sentence, Ace’s free hand clamped over your mouth with such ferocity that you almost fell off the bed. Forcing yourself to make eye contact again, you see that his are blown wide and wild. The color has been drained from his face and he looked physically ill from hearing everything you just threw at him.

An extremely tense moment passed with nothing to be heard beyond his labored breathing. Then, he hesitantly let go of your face and with a shaky voice said, “Okay. I’m sorry. I believe you. What… What’s going to happen if I keep pursuing Blackbeard?”

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat, but it refused to go away, “When you catch up with him, you’ll fight, but lose. Your powers are no match for his, you don’t stand a chance against him. After your loss, he turns you in to the marines.

“Because of who your father is, they decide to make an example out of you and sentence you to death.”

“That bastard turns me in and I get executed?” He sounds like the wind has just been knocked out of him. Disbelief and bitterness are the two most prevalent emotions in his tone, but many others brew beneath the surface.

“Not exactly,” it’s true that he gets turned in and killed, but it’s nowhere near that simple and straightforward. “Luffy comes to your rescue at Marineford, and so does Whitebeard and a lot of his crew.”

Before you could go more into detail, Ace speaks up, “They… W-Why would they do that?”

“Why would they- You have to ask?!” Your voice raises and you have to remind yourself of just how much character development he has to go through in that arc to finally realize and accept the fact that he’s genuinely loved. “Because you’re family, their family! They care about you and don’t want to see you die!”

Your outburst shocked him, but not as much as seeing you start to cry did. His hand is abandoned and you lurch forward to bring him into a suffocatingly tight hug, “Y-You are so loved, you know that? They l-love you so much! A lot of people do! I do! We all want to see you live and be happy!” You limply hang off of him as more tears bubble to the surface, greedily taking the chance to escape with every sob as you finally let out everything you’ve been keeping in. Ace makes no move to return your embrace, he just sits there stiff as a board.

“A-And, at that battle, you’re killed by Admiral Akainu while protecting Luffy. He’s devastated by it, being forced to watch you die hurts him so bad,” you cling onto him tighter upon feeling him flinch from your words. “Whitebeard dies there too.”

“What?! How could anyone kill him? That can’t be right!” You’re wrenched off Ace violently and his stare is almost as unhinged as it was when you said his parents’ names.

“Blackbeard does it,” Ace freezes at this. “That should give you an idea of how strong he is. If he can kill Whitebeard, fighting you is nothing to him. Besides, you of all people would know how hard it is to kill him,” you chuckle but it’s humorless, empty even.

A heavy stretch of silence follows after that. Ace’s eyes don’t leave your face for even a second, desperately searching for anything that would tell him that this is all one big, sick joke. But there’s nothing of the sort.

Slowly, he releases your shoulders and he shifts away from you to rest his head in his hands. Without his support, you allow yourself to fall back onto the bed. Between all the alcohol and your emotional outburst, you’re exhausted and want nothing more than to sleep. You try to force yourself to stay awake, but it feels like an insurmountable task.

“Hey, Ace?” There’s no answer, but you continue anyway, “I’m sorry. I know that was a lot. If, um… If you don’t believe me about knowing what’s going to happen, stick around until after we set sail again. Bon Clay- Mr. 2- is going to bring the Going Merry over here so that we don’t have to backtrack. Marines will be all over the place, but he sacrifices himself so that Luffy and his crew can get away. Once they’ve lost the marines, Nico Robin will reveal herself to have been hiding on the ship and joins the crew.”

Ace continues to not react to what’s being said, you’re not even sure he’s listening to you at this point. As much as you want to comfort him, your limbs feel like lead and your head is swimming. The last thing you see is the jolly roger of the Whitebeard’s staring you down as you fade into darkness.

—

Consciousness comes back to you slowly. Painfully so. Before you can even make out your surroundings, you’re assaulted by the worst headache of your life. The stabbing pain behind your eyes is crippling, all you want is to retreat back to the comfort of sleep, but you know that’s not going to happen.

It doesn’t help that your mouth is so dry that you feel like you’re back in the desert. One hand comes up to gingerly massage your eyes. The action brought more discomfort than relief, but it did clear up your sight a little.

As your senses ebb back into you, you hone in on the pressure all over your body. It takes considerable effort, but you manage to lift your head enough to take a look. Your nose is less than an inch from bumping into someone else’s. Chopper’s to be exact. He was curled up into your side and using your chest as a pillow. Looking past him, Luffy was sprawled across your lap, belly up. Both of them were still asleep.

You prop yourself up on one arm. Chopper shifts, but doesn’t wake. Off to your side is a bedside table with a glass of water on it. Oh, thank God. Using the arm you aren’t propped up with, you grab it and bring the cup to your lips. The water is divine, an absolute blessing for your dry throat.

As you enjoy your drink, your eyes glance around to observe the rest of the room. It’s the one you all have been staying in since saving Alabasta. Most of your friends are in their respective beds, except for Chopper and Luffy, obviously. Zoro was also not in his bed, instead being slumped over in a chair next to your own.

Your eyes flicker over to the massive windows of the room, and you spot Ace sitting in the windowsill. From the way he’s positioned, he appears to be awake already. Your gaze narrows as you focus on him. Something tickled at the back of your mind, demanding to be remembered. But what?

“Y-You are so loved, you know that? They l-love you so much! A lot of people do! I do! We all want to see you live and be happy!”

The water going down your throat is suddenly going out of it when you choke. Memories come back and hit you like a train as you realize what exactly it is you did last night.

Naturally, this wakes up Chopper and Luffy, who are both jolted from their once peaceful sleep by you choking on your drink. Chopper immediately starts to panic, “AH! Don’t die, (Y/N)!”

—

It was crucial that you speak to Ace again, but it seemed like the world itself was committed to making sure that didn’t happen. Ace slipped out of the room while everyone was fussing over you, and it honestly felt like he was avoiding you now. Everytime you thought you might be able to catch him alone, either he vanishes, or someone else comes out of nowhere to drag you away.

Today was the day you all set sail from Alabasta, and while that did put you in close proximity with Ace, it also put everyone else within earshot of you two. And considering the delicate nature of what you needed to talk about, that was extremely inconvenient.

The only good thing was that the events following leaving Alabasta played out exactly how they were supposed to. Hopefully that meant that Ace would believe you and give up hunting down Blackbeard, but you won’t be able to confirm that unless you speak with him.

You were so stressed that you’d barely been able to focus on Robin being here. She “introduced” herself to you as if she hadn’t had an extremely uncomfortable run in with you in an alleyway back in Rainbase, but all you could manage was a half-assed handshake before excusing yourself.

For probably the fifteenth time today, you checked to make sure that Striker was still tied to the Merry. It was, much to your relief. But where was Ace hiding? You haven’t seen him since Robin showed herself.

The stress of trying and failing to corner him was doing nothing to help with your hangover, your head felt like it was about to explode. Did you still have Advil in the bag you got isekai’d here with? Maybe. Pushing off the railing, you march to where your room is while praying that you’re right about the painkillers.

You open the door without much thought, only to stop dead in your tracks when you catch sight of Ace rummaging through your belongings and stuffing them into his backpack. The door opening did briefly make him stop and peer over his shoulder to see who it was, but the second he saw it was you, he went right back to pillaging.

“Can I help you? Why are you robbing me?” You stomp over to where he’s crouched down and shove his shoulder.

“I’m not robbing you, I’m packing for you,” Ace mumbled, sounding lost in thought.

“Why would you be packing for me? Actually, you know what? That’s the least of my concerns right now, we need to talk about last night.”

“We’ll talk about it later, not here.” He still hasn’t properly faced you, and you were getting sick of only making eye contact with his tattoo and not him.

“Where else would we talk about it?!” You hissed.

Seeming content with his work, he stood up and kicked the dresser drawer shut, “On the Striker. Or maybe the Moby Dick, I guess. I’m going back and you’re coming with me.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, “Excuse me?”

“I’m going back to the Moby Dick, and you’re coming with me.” Ace had finally turned to face you. His eyes were sunken and vaguely bloodshot.

The sight catches you off guard, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

He shook his head, “No, we’re going to have to stop somewhere else to sleep before going the rest of the way back home.”

“Ace, I’m not going with you. Look, I’m happy that you’re calling off your hunt, relieved honestly, but I’m staying here.” You will ideally be figuring out how to go home sometime soon, there’s no sense in hopping around from crew to crew now.

One of his eyes twitched, and he looked exasperated, “You can’t stay here. You aren’t safe here.”

“What are you-”

“Let me finish,” the words were spoken calmly, but very firm. “I don’t think you understand how serious this is. You apparently know everything about this world and what’s going to happen in it, do you have any idea what will happen to you if word gets out about this?”

“You’re the only person I’ve told, so as long as you keep your mouth shut, I’ll be fine.”

“Until you get drunk again and tell someone else, then what?” His words were just as scathing as his gaze.

Your face flushed in shame, “That won’t happen again.”

“You don’t know that!” Ace snapped at you, then sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “This is for your own good. Nothing good will come from anyone else learning about this. If it ever got back to someone like Big Mom, she would send every single one of her children after you so she could have you on her side. And that’s the nicer option. I’m sure the marines would be more than happy to kill you off so that no one else could have you if they can’t.”

Throughout this entire conversation, his face had remained uncomfortably neutral, but now it cracked. Fondness peaked through the exhaustion as his expression softened ever so slightly. He steps forwards and brings you against him in a crushing embrace. His skin is hot to the touch, effectively chasing away any chill that you may have had.

“You said you wanted to see me live, and I want to see you live, too.” The words are hushed, you wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he hadn’t been speaking right next to your ear.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself away. His face is serious again, “We’re leaving tonight, be ready to go.”

“But-”

“If you don’t come willingly, I will make you. The only thing that you resisting will accomplish is making this messier than it needs to be. Even if you don’t like this now, you will thank me for it later.”

Ace spins on his heel and heads for the door. All you can do is stand there gawking at him as he leaves. Just before the door closes behind him, he spares a glance over his shoulder to say, “I’ll see you tonight.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #yandere one piece #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #monkey d luffy #nami #cat burglar nami #one piece #sanji #black leg sanji #tony tony chopper #nico robin #roronoa zoro #platonic yandere

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kalims · 1 year

Text

the day we met.

and to think i promised i wouldn't fall in love.

characters. dorm leaders

cw. not proofread

note. just some random hcs.. I wonder who can recognize what post this resembles hehe.. AKA title

pls read malleus' part mwahahaha I like it

riddle rosehearts keeps you on your toes (quite literally.) if it weren't for him you're sure you would have fallen off the horse that seems awfully intent on driving you off it's back to a face full of mud. clearly he was lying when he said 'beverly' was a fairly nice horse... she's literally the living spawn of a demon! but you can say that she counts for a pretty great wing.. horsewoman? how else would you get the esteemed riddle to handle you so delicately?

leona oddly resembles a cat... (technically he is one.) but he really likes to nap, you're sure his daily schedule involves sleeping, eating, looking dead every time of the day he's awake then going back to sleep—let's not forget the favorite thing cats love to either knead with their paws or lay on! in this case it's you. at some point you had to tip toe and keep quiet everywhere so he doesn't hear, and promptly snatch you for the rest of the day.

the bounds azul would go for you is a little concerning but you're there for them all the well. as far as you knew on campus he was banned from making contracts but the cheeky little octopus had simply smirked when he casually says that the headmaster never said out of campus.. if he isn't there then how would he know? he just has to lure out whoever was the one that was stupid enough to bother you out of campus, hm... this is a job for the eels, no?

to be honest. forget about azul, kalim would do anything for your expense. it doesn't matter if you ask directly or not, just an implication is enough to trigger his impulsive decisions. seriously though, jamil is begging you to be considerate of what you say around kalim. you don't want him actually purchasing a whole country if you accidentally imply you want to rule one. again, be careful or you'll be smothered by his love, and deep gold pockets.

vil has a tendency to stare. believe it or not, even though it might seem like it would be the other way around you do catch his gaze sometimes but he always ends up trying to play it off. maybe he's sick or something? was there something on your face? (vil: yeah perfection) you find out not to point it out though, last time you did you got ignored with a huff. more so when you catch sight of a furious blush you almost mistook as too much of the makeup product. (no such person like vil wouldn't notice how red his cheeks would be if it was that case.)

besides the unintentional spoiling from kalim (who genuinely just thinks you deserve it all as a form of his love and affection.) idia is by no means poor. how else could he afford all the latest parts for his technology? let alone whale on the games he likes to play. this man spoils you intentionally. if he knows you want a character, weapon, or certain item he's getting his hands on it and giving it all to you. a collector's item? easy. it doesn't matter if the price is too high on the bar, nothing would ever compare to you anyways.

malleus is on your side, always. it doesn't matter if you're actually wrong about something, he's siding with you and defending you with his life 💀 you burned down a building knowing full well that the fire is a big possibility? everyone makes mistakes though... according to malleus draconia everybody. one of the strongest person in twisted wonderland is either the next 100% win rate lawyer or some random person making third grade defenses. there's no in between. that or he's making the dumbest excuse and actually making good points right after.

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cxptain-capsicle · 2 months

Text

Beyond the Sea | Luke Castellan | IV

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Unclaimed Poseidon!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, established relationship, Gods being terrible parents

The mess hall was quiet, you had gotten to the Hermes table early, the sun was shining warm golden rays on your skin. It was a beautiful morning, relaxing even.

“Y/n!” Annabeth nearly screamed from across the pavilion. There went your relaxation.

“Good morning to you too Annabeth.” You smiled at her as she stormed the table. “What’s wrong?”

“Ya know the new kid?” She asked.

“Percy?” You confirmed.

“Something happened last night.” She said cryptically.

“Oh?” You sat up straighter. “He seems really sweet just make sure you’re always safe-”

“Oh my gods!” She shouted and covered her ears. “Not like that! Something else happened.”

Before Annabeth could get another word out Luke’s voice came booming behind you.

“Morning ladies!” Someone was in a good mood.

“I’ll tell you later.” She practically scowled at Percy as she walked away.

“Well, she’s a ray of sunshine.” Percy watched Annabeth as she left.

“What’re you two up to?” You asked as they took a seat with you at the table.

“Giving Percy my life story.” Luke shrugged.

“Not again.” You said sarcastically making Luke roll his eyes at you.

“Anyways, before camp, I was on the road. Me and a forbidden kid I met along the way. Her name was Thalia.” Luke smiled a little when he said her name. It made your stomach hurt and your face flush. You were jealous of a tree.

“And what does that mean, forbidden?” Percy asked.

“A long time ago, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades agreed their children were becoming too powerful, so they made a pact not to father anymore. And it held for a long time until Zeus broke that pact. Until Thalia.” Luke explained.

“Forbidden kids attract trouble.” You added. “Monsters everywhere, constantly battling to stay alive.”

“One day, we, uh, find this little girl hiding in an alley. Annabeth. We were worried about taking her in, exposing her to all that danger. Then we saw her fight.” He chuckled at the memory then fell silent. “Thalia didn't make it. But Annabeth and me... we did. And we've been family ever since.”

“She's been watching me since I got here. Why?” Percy asked.

“Annabeth is the strongest warrior in camp.”

“Rude” You mumbled

“The only way left to prove herself is to go on a quest.” Luke gave you a little smirk as he continued

“And what does this have to do with me?”

“Chiron's been promising her for years,” Luke explained again.

“One day, a demigod would arrive who was fated to go on a quest that even Chiron couldn't prevent. And when that happened, she could join it.” You explained to Percy. “Every new arrival, Annabeth watches, looking for a sign they're the one. Usually, she gives up after a day or two, but she's still watching you.”

“Can you ask her to knock it off?” Percy said shyly.

“Yeah, sure. But what if she's right?” Luke shrugged.

“Annabeth will always do what she wants.” You chuckled. The conch shell rang and everyone turned back to see Chiron in the center of the pavilion.

“Heroes... it's time.” He announced. “The game begins.”

Everyone rose from their seats and began to follow Chiron.

“We’re doing this now?” Percy scrambled from his seat at the table.

“Don’t worry kid, you’ll have fun.” You laughed at him.

“So what about you.” He asked, you looked at him with a raised brow. “How’d you end up here.”

“Well, I was alone for a long time.” You and Percy followed the large crowd up the hill, Luke continued ahead to talk with Annabeth. “A couple of years. I was constantly running from monsters and eventually one trapped me. I was stuck in a cave and I couldn’t get out. I was in there for a few days before they found me.”

“Who found you.” He was listening intently.

“Luke,” You smiled. “It was technically Grover’s quest, him, Luke, and Clarisse.” Percy’s nose crinkled in disgust. “Clarisse is an acquired taste.”

“So you and Luke,” Percy said slowly. “You guys…” He was making a gesture with his hands, you thought it was supposed to mimic kissing. You laughed and smacked his hands.

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.” You hadn’t called him that in a while. Dating at camp wasn’t forbidden but it wasn’t encouraged. Especially in a case like yours, living in the same cabin. Everyone knew you and Luke were together, when you first started dating you had to have some strongly worded conversations with a few aphrodite campers.

“For how long.” He seemed genuinely interested.

“Hard to say.” You shrugged. “It never really had a clear start. Just sort of happened.”

“You’ve been here three summers.” He eyed your necklace.

“This’ll be number four.” You confirmed.

“And you like it?” He asked as you finally came up over the hill.

“Happiest place on earth.”

Everyone got suited up and gathered supplies before separating to our designated sides of the river. Chiron went over the rules and the first conch blew.

“All right.” Annabeth jumped immediately into action. “We have 20 minutes before the second conch and game on. You know what you're doing?”

“Yes, ma'am.” You and Luke said in unison and prepared to take off.

“Hey.” She stopped you. “Today feel like a winning kind of day to you?”

“As always.” You smiled.

“I'll see you on the other side.” Luke smirked. “Company, move out!”

Percy went to follow you and Luke but Annabeth stopped him. “Not you, sunshine. You're with me.” Percy looked at you like he was asked for help but all you could do was give him a sympathetic smile.

You and Luke escorted the flag carrier to the decided location then set out for the red team’s flag.

“Annabeth tell you what she has planned?” You asked Luke.

“Not really, just that she has a job for Percy.”

“That scares me.” You sighed. Before Luke could respond the sound of screaming and battle cries came from the trees behind you. A group of red soldiers came charging out of the woods towards you. You and Luke had done this so many times before it was as instinctual as breathing. You lined up back to back and fought off those dumb enough to try to attack you.

“Watch out!” Luke shouted as an arrow came down at you. The two of you rolled away from each other. When you emerged a warrior was right in front of you ready to strike you down. You took a slash at the back of her knees that sent her to the ground. You glanced over at Luke who seemed to be managing two opponents just fine. You took on each soldier one by one until finally, one girl raised her arms in surrender.

“We give up.” She panted.

“I wanna move quick.” Luke explained as he sheathed his sword. “Straight through the woods to their flag.”

“Clarisse hunts in those woods for the first few hours, you know that. She's gonna cut us down.” Chris spoke up.

“Annabeth's got a plan.” Luke told him. “Percy's on it.”

Chris rolled his eyes a little.

“Come on, trust the kid a little.” You told him.

“When it's time, he's gonna be ready. I know it.” That seemed to instill a bit of confidence in the rest of the group because they all started towards enemy territory.

“Percy’s gonna be ready right?” He whispered to you.

“Totally.” You lacked confidence.

You and Luke caught up with the group and continued through the woods. You led the group quietly past a few small groups of soldiers having to convince Luke each time that you could take the stealth tactic and not just storm in. You came to a clearing in the woods and where it was. A bright red flag planted in the ground, waving in the wind.

“This has to be a trap.” You looked around. “No one’s here.”

“I agree,” Luke whispered. “I don’t trust it.”

“Perfect. You volunteer then.” You used the butt of your sword to push Luke out of the woods and into the clearing. He stumbled to his feet, raised his sword, and looked around waiting for the enemy to attack.

“I don’t see anyone.” He said in a hushed voice to you. Almost as if on cue a flash of red came falling out of the tree above him. A girl with a sword came hurdling down on top of Luke knocking his sword out of his hands and sending it flying to the ground. You rushed the two of them, pushing the girl off of Luke and pinning her to the ground. You had a knee on her left arm and the other was under your hand. With your free hand, you had the blade of your sword against her cheek.

“I surrender.” She sputtered. By the time you got to your feet the rest of the group had handled the other two members of the red team that were guarding the flag. Luke grabbed the flag and turned to look at you with a big smile on his face.

“Look at this killer.” That was the nickname he gave you when you fought. You loved to fight, it made you passionate and deadly. He gestured to the flag in his hands. “Look what I got.”

“Congratulations.” His smile was contagious to you. “Getting the flag is easy, getting it back is the hard part.”

Clarisse was always hunting, waiting for us to get cocky after capturing the flag just to try to kill us on our way back. But this time that didn’t happen. We made our way back, fighting off a few opponents and reuniting with several members of our team. Soon the river was in sight and the company began to charge. Luke triumphantly placed the flag in the rocks, sealing our victory. Everyone cheered and shouted in victory and you couldn’t help but admire Luke. He raised his sword in the air and cheered, he looked like a true hero. He turned and began to search the crown with his eyes before they landed on you. He practically ran to you, pushing through other people with his shield to get to you. He dropped his sword and shield on the ground and ripped off his helmet before placing both hands on the sides of your face and pulling you in to kiss him. When he pulled away his hair was messy from underneath his helmet and his cheeks were flushed with adrenaline. You couldn’t help but laugh at his forwardness, affection around camp had to be kept to a minimum to avoid unwanted attention from Chiron or Mr. D. However every once in a while in the heat of the moment Luke didn’t care about the attention. Your loving moment was cut off by Percy’s shouts.

“What is wrong with you?” Percy was sitting in the water looking up at Annabeth who must have pushed him. You had no clue why she would do that until he stood up.

When Percy rose from the water a shimmering blue trident appeared floating above his head. Your stomach dropped, the sounds around you became muffled, your face paled. You were white hot with fury practically seeing red. You had waited nearly three years for your father to claim you, even chalking it up to him choosing not to claim you because of the pact to no longer father forbidden children. But now, this kid has been here for three days and your father claimed him. Everything you’d ever wanted in your life he got in three days. You didn’t come back to reality until you felt a hand land on your shoulder.

“Hey, are you okay?” Luke asked as you jumped away from his touch. “Let's go somewhere and talk-”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You shrugged him off. You could hear the whispers now, feel the stares. You had tried to keep your powers in check but over the years there had been slip-ups. When you accidentally threw a wave at Silena Beauregard for getting a little too close and comfortable with Luke. Rumors spread fast at camp.

You pushed through the crowd as hot tears welled in your eyes. As you walked past the cabins trying your best not to look at the blue cabin at the end of the row your mind was on one thing. You hated the gods.

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updownlately · 10 months

Text

how do i hold these emotions (when you spin my world out of place?)

| leah williamson x reader | angst | 3.9k | inspo: butterflies by abe parker | a/n: so this has been sitting in the ask box for nearly a month. initially i didn't get to it bc of school and then bc i struggled to think of what to write. i'm not really happy with how this turned out tbh but i want to at least get something out in regards to this one, lest i stretch it out another month, so here ya go...

~~~

You hadn’t meant to hurt her. You really hadn’t. Everything had happened so quickly. One second you were intently watching the ball get kicked around during five-a-side and the next you were diving to make a save, unaware of the blonde running in behind the ball.

In your urgency to secure the ball, you hadn’t actively paid attention to your arms stretching out, nor the way the white cleats got caught between your outstretched limbs, you managing to gather more than just the ball.

It was only when the blood rushing from your ears disappeared, when the slight jolt of adrenaline wore off, that you realized the tangled mess of limbs that lay behind you.

Pausing, you immediately furrowed your eyebrows. Players weren’t supposed to be where she was. Players weren’t supposed to be behind the keeper.

Eyes widening in realization, you dropped the ball and quickly stood up in a panic.

“Oh my god, I’m so s-“

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The sharp voice cut through your sentence, the anger behind it nearly pushing you a step back.

“I-I’m sorry. I swear. It was an accident.” Your voice quieter this time, the fear evident. The midfielder was on the ground, almost curled up in fetal position, hands clutching her ankle.

By now the whole team was nearly surrounding you two, Lia and Steph crossing you to be by Leah’s side.

“An accident is when you miss the ball, not when you fucking take out your own teammate during a damn practice,” Leah practically growled out, her eyes still not meeting yours.

“Leah, breathe. She was just doing her job, it was an accident.”

You looked over at Steph, a grateful look appearing on your face for a brief second before promptly turning your attention back to Leah.

“Her job is to stop the ball, not injure a teammate. If she can’t do that then she should find another job.”

You swallowed hard at her tone, the words hitting you hard. You knew being signed by Arsenal, even as a backup keeper wasn’t going to be easy. Hell, you had expected it to be gruelling and tiresome. But you didn’t expect this. You didn’t think you’d manage to turn one of the club’s key players against you on one of your first few practices with them.

Leah didn’t even turn to look at you, her back being the only thing visible as she let the other two players and the oncoming medical staff examine her speaking volumes to you.

The way the ever-supportive, always-understanding skipper couldn’t even look you in the eye hurt you more than words could say.

Body slumping, your shoulders caved in and you quietly stepped back, letting your head hang low. Mentally berating yourself, you cursed at your mind for reacting so quickly, for not looking at where you were diving, towards who you were diving.

Part of you knew it was your job, that this was part of the game, that technically it wasn’t your fault. Yet, the people pleaser inside couldn’t help but agree with Leah. It was stupid of you to have saved that ball. After all, it was just a practice, right? You could have most definitely gotten away with just letting her score, but you didn’t. And where did that leave you? With a future Arsenal legend cursing you out while they likely had another injury, no thanks to you.

Just as your thoughts began spiralling towards what Jonas might be thinking about only just acquiring you and you already injuring one of his key players, you felt a gentle hand come to rest upon your shoulders.

Body jolting, you whipped your head around, tense muscles only slightly relaxing when you saw who the hand was attached to. Stina.

You let her gently tug you towards her, walking backwards, eyes still downcast.

“Ignore her okay? She’s just running high on emotions, she doesn’t mean it.” The quiet words whispered in your ear don’t have the desired effect however, the weight of your actions sinking into your thoughts.

You shrug in response, taking off your gloves to wipe your sweaty palms on the side of your shorts.

Bending down to tuck the gloves between your knees, your lips mumbled out a quick prayer to a God you didn’t believe in enough. You prayed, hoped, begged that whatever you had done wasn’t major. After all, the blonde had only recently come back from injury.

Inhaling deeply, you rose again, unaware of Stina’s eyes on you. You intently watched as the staff tested out Leah’s legs and ankle, holding your breath when one of them gently pressed their fingers around her ankle, turning it slightly. Your eyes immediately flickered over to Leah’s face, eyebrows furrowed, concentrating, trying to gauge the potential severity of the collision.

It was only when the striker grabbed your arm for a second time that you broke from your staring. “C’mon, it’s a water break. Let them do their thing, she’ll be fine.” Your head swivelled at her comments, finally taking note of how empty the field around you was, save for the ongoing situation. Shooting one last concerned look over at the gunner trio by the goalposts, you trailed behind the Swedish player.

Throughout the water break, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift over to Leah and the medical staff. Even as Katie and Kim tried to distract you with conversation, your mind wandered. You wondered how Jonas was feeling about this whole situation. It had only been a little over a month since Leah had come back from her ankle injury, a slew of lesions across the years causing a tense relationship between the midfielder and her crucial joints. And now you had potentially caused another one. You despised the thought of you being the reason she would be out again, for more reasons than one.

Your worries however, rang true, attention being stolen from the girls in front of you and finding its way to the oncoming stampede of footsteps from the pitch.

Wincing, you turned around, ready to assess just how badly you fucked up.

Unfortunately for you, the sight ahead of you had your heart silently breaking in two, partially in worry for yourself, but more so in pain for the blonde that was limping across the grounds.

You could sense the tension in the group walking towards the locker room. Leah was hobbling on one foot, using Lia as a crutch while Steph walked beside the pair, defeat clear in her body. The medical staff themselves were quietly conversing with one another, discussing something you couldn’t quite make out.

Deciding to take a chance, you opened your mouth to apologize as the blonde passed you, another ‘sorry’ on the tip of your tongue. However, before you could even get any semblance of a sound out, Leah interrupted you, steel blue eyes connecting with yours for the first time since the encounter.

“Save it. You’ve already done enough.” The irritation didn’t surprise you, after all, you didn’t expect her to be your biggest fan right now. Still, the contempt in her voice had you in shock, heart aching at what you had done and where it had left you.

Eyes staying wide, body frozen to where you stood, you closed your mouth.

It was only as Leah walked away from you that you let yourself move, immediately bringing your hands to run through your hair in frustration, before bringing them over your face in a failed attempt to rid yourself of the guilt that plagued you.

Fuck.

~~~

A week had passed since the collision, the injury turning out to be nothing more than a somewhat minor ankle sprain, only looking to keep the defender out for a little less than three weeks.

In the days that had gone by thus far though, you did your best to avoid Leah, still nervous at the blonde’s initial reaction and her icy demeanour towards you.

You wanted to chalk up her disdain for you to just the unfortunate event and forget about it, but since the incident, each time that you passed her around the training grounds, she seemed to avoid you, ignoring your existence completely. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt.

You had looked up to the defender throughout your own career, marvelling at her determination and dedication even though you were only a few months younger than her. To have her nearly pretend you don’t exist whilst on the same team burned you more than you’d like to admit.

Knowing you had to be mature however, you pretended to be fine every time you saw Leah conversing with another teammate near you. You ignored the tug in your heart when she’d greet the rest of the team, her lips magically skipping your name, as you all filed into the weight room. You told the team it was fine when they confronted you about it, even going as far as telling Kim that you didn’t take it to heart, that you understood why she was upset.

Well aware that you didn’t deserve this treatment, you still let it slide, not wanting to cause any more problems.

You didn’t let it show to the team but now you were slightly more cautious in practices, letting more goals rocket past you, too afraid of diving too close to a teammate. It was a dangerous game you were playing, nearly putting your career on line, but you couldn’t care about that right now as much as you wanted to. Ensuring you didn’t injure any more teammates was your top priority, lest you somehow manage to turn the whole Arsenal women’s team against you after injuring yet another player.

So as practices passed, you gave your 100% during any distance shooting drills, diving left, right, and centre as needed. You did what you had to, knowing there was no one near you. But when it came to close range shooting, five-a-side, or any other drills you dialled it down. You tried to be subtle with your lessening actions but you knew that the training staff could tell. And you were proven right.

Training had just ended for the day, the cold January breeze making you shiver as you walked across the pitch. You had only made it half way over before you heard your name being called, Jonas’ booming voice carrying through the wind easily.

Turning around, you walked to him, confusion etched on your face, dread running cold in your bones.

“Hey, what’s up?” You tried to sound nonchalant. You’re pretty sure you failed.

“You’re holding back during practices, don’t think I can’t tell.”

“What do you mean?” You feigned innocence.

“Don’t. Listen, we brought you here for a reason, what happened with Leah was a freak accident, it wasn’t intentional and we all know that.

Your body stiffened, swallowing audibly, aware that you just got caught.

“I don’t care what whoever tells you. You came in here with a job to do and you were doing it well. I’d like to hope that it continues as such.” Jonas ends the conversation, leaving no room for discussion. You can only nod in response, turning around to head to the locker rooms.

Stuck in your own musings, contemplating on your choices, you don’t see LW squared headed your way, Leah finally off the crutches she’s been using for the past week and a half.

It’s when you almost crash into them, cleats just barely appearing in your field of vision ,that you realize your predicament. Quickly throwing yourself to the side, you just barely manage to avoid hitting Leah again.

“Do you make a habit of injuring all the national captains or just the English ones?” Leah grumbled into the air, the quip no doubt directed to you even as she looked straight ahead.

“S-Sorry.” You squeaked out, picking up your pace and heading in the opposite direction.

You knew she didn’t like you. And you knew you had to make amends with it. What you couldn’t figure out yet is whether you rather have her ignore your existence or acknowledge it with her dislike for you on display.

You didn’t know it as you walked away, but the second you’re were out of earshot, Lia confronted Leah, understanding just how terrible of a position you were in right now.

“You know it wouldn’t kill you to be nice to her right?”

“It wouldn’t kill her to not injure me, especially not after I just came back from an ankle injury,” Leah muttered in response.

“Listen, she’s already been beating herself up for it ever since it happened. You need to cut her some slack.”

“But-“

“No buts. Leah she’s been too afraid to even dive during close practices now. The only time she’s actively being a goalkeeper is during long distance shooting, and we both know that’s not going to do us any good and it definitely won’t do her any good.”

Pouting, it was Leah’s turn to look at her cleats, mind wandering.

“I wasn’t that rude to her was I?” “You’ve been ignoring her for two weeks! She’s only been here for three!”

Silently groaning, the blonde continued walking.

“Leah…”

“Yes mum?”

“Fix it.”

“Yes m-“ “And stop calling me mum, you child.”

“Yes mother.” A gentle smack hit the back of the skipper’s head before the Swiss captain took off running onto the pitch.

“Oi!”

~~~

You thought being a backup keeper for a club like Arsenal, who already had a great goalie meant that playing time for you wasn’t going to be crazy. You believed it. Nearly confidently knew it. So when Jonas told you that they were resting Manu for the game against Leeds, your anxiety spiked through the roof. After all, it had only been a little over three weeks that you had been with the club, two of them spent with a star player of theirs injured because of you.

Aware that with the team you had the game would be easy, even if it was the fourth round of the FA cup, you weren’t worried about the Gunner’s ability to score and win. The thought of starting while being a backup goalie however, of wanting to maintain a clean sheet on your first game, intimidated you.

When you had initially got the news, two days before the game was supposed to be held, you immediately started to prepare.

After Jonas had pulled you aside, you had gone off and begged one of the trainers to stay back and shoot at you, setting you up in tough positions and sending in shots from all sorts of angles. Spending an extra two hours on pitch that day, you tirelessly saved shot after shot, working on your release, your control of back passes, and your dropkicks, wanting to perform your best. It was only when the trainer called it a day that you agreed to go home and rest.

You spent match day minus one reviewing game footage, nervousness still rolling through your body. You had studied Leed’s strikers’ shot tendencies, taking note of how the starting XI liked to attack, but still, the weight of what this game meant for you, for your career, sat on your shoulder with a heavy weight no matter how much you prepped.

Arriving to the Meadow Park the day of the game, headphones blasting music, you tried to quell the butterflies in your stomach, tried to ease the tension in your jaw, but it was to no avail.

Even throughout Jonas’ locker room speech and announcement of the starting lineup, your leg bounced fervently. It was only when warm-ups started that you finally started feeling a bit calmer, the familiar feeling of being on the pitch shushing the roar of voices in your head.

However, when the team huddled up right before the game started, you could feel the nerves crawl up your spine again. It was only when you felt a hand rest on your arm did your thoughts finally branch off from the game, eyebrows furrowing as you traced the limb to its owner, Leah.

Eyes widening, you looked down at your feet, checking to see if you were maybe stepping on her foot or accidentally crowding her. Noting that you weren’t in fact injuring her in any way, you stepped back, mind reeling at the fact that Leah, the Leah that you injured not so long ago, and then almost hurt again, was willingly standing next to you right now, your arm in her grasp.

Sliding up next beside you, Leah turned to face you, your eyes meeting blue ones for the first time since the injury.

Taking a sharp inhale, you let your head fall slightly, body deflating. You really weren’t in the mood to be reminded of how you injured the girl, not with the way you were feeling right now.

Leah sighed at your timid demeanour, Lia’s words from a week ago still whispers in her head.

She knew you had been nervous all day, very likely due to the fact that you were starting today. With the way she treated you thus far, she thought maybe she could try and help make you feel a bit more confident but clearly with the way you almost collapsed in on yourself in her presence convinced her otherwise.

Still, it was worth a shot.

“Listen, I know we haven’t started off on the greatest footing, but just know that I’m rooting for you today…we all are. You’ve got this. You weren’t starting keeper for the Red Stars for no reason, you earned it there, and you’re gonna do that again here. Don’t let the voices in your head convince you otherwise.”

The quiet words from the blonde had you frozen in your spot, the gentleness and concern catching you off guard. The words somehow managed to ease your anxiousness ever so slightly however, the weight on your shoulders easing just ever so slightly.

Nodding, you whispered out a meek thanks, eyes meeting hers to show your appreciation.

Splitting from the rest of the team, you made your way to the goal, throwing your water bottle to the side and taking position. Stretching your neck, you let Leah’s words play in your mind, shoulders loosening up, chest puffing up in confidence.

Throughout the game, you were hyper focused, eyes tracing the ball, following its path even whilst it was wholly across the field from you. Active at every chance you needed to be, you were agile, running to aid in back passes, being aware of a few shots taken your way, ones that you caught with ease.

By half time, your confidence in yourself was off the charts, proud of your performance and for keeping a clean sheet thus far. It also helped that the team had a comfortable 3-0 lead, thanks to Foord, Kühl, and Kim.

Making your way across the field behind the rest of your team, you saw Leah staying back, her gaze on you. As you approached, she fell into step with you.

“You did great you know? Clean sheet so far and you made a handful of key saves! Especially the one shot where you somehow managed to punch the ball just wide.” You couldn’t stop the smile that took over your face at her words, posture straightening in pride.

“You really think so?” “Yeah. You did great. You’re not a half-bad keeper y’know…”

Walking the last little bit in silence, you internally celebrated at Leah’s words, glad that she wasn’t upset at you any more.

~~~

As the final whistle blew, the three sharp tweets ringing throughout the pitch, you let yourself sigh in relief, all the tension leaving your body in seconds.

A content grin on your face, you grabbed your water and started making your way to the rest of the team.

A string of claps on the back and acknowledgements from your teammates on your performance as you joined the group had you smiling, the clean sheet and nine goals scored no doubt bringing a sense of achievement to everyone. You let yourself be roughhoused by Katie, the Irish woman loudly expressing her joy and tackling you with a muffled “good game rook!” as you listened to Jonas talk. As he finished up his overview of the game, you could feel his sights rest on you, your head tilting, curious at what was going on.

“And just before I let you guys go and change, I just want to shoutout our keeper’s efforts today. From being told that she would be playing in her first game only two days ago, she’s done fantastic, keeping a clean sheet and being ready at any given point to help our defence out. I know the past few weeks have been hard to you, with the new environment and team to get used to, but you absolutely killed it and we’re all proud of you.” Directing the last few sentences to you, you looked at your feet in nervousness, overwhelmed by the support you were receiving.

“Couldn’t have done it without you guys…thank you all, seriously,” you replied back, head raising to make eye contact with all of the gunners around you.

And as Jonas finally let you go, you let yourself take in the moment one more time, aware that while this game would be minor in the long run, it now held a special place in your heart, bringing on beginnings only you knew.

Getting jostled out of your thoughts however, you found the English captain at your side once again.

“How you feeling?”

“Happy I think? It feels nice to be here right now.”

“Just right now?” Leah questioned, an inkling in her mind at the choice of your words, one that became concrete as you shrugged in response to her question.

“Hey listen, I’m sorry for being mean earlier. You didn’t deserve it and I had no right to be an asshole to you when it could have happened to anybody.”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry for injuring you right after you had just returned from another injury.”

“Don’t you dare apologize for that. Accident’s happen, it was just an unfortunate series of events.” “Still-”

“I’ll go back to being rude to you y’know? If you keep apologizing.”

Smiling to yourself, you sighed in defeat.

“New slate?” You stuck out your hand, awaiting a handshake.

“New slate,” Leah agreed, her own meeting yours, three shakes between you two.

Letting go, you felt as the Leah’s arm come to rest over your shoulders, and for the first time, you held your head up high, delighted that you could stand beside her without fear. Basking in the moment, you let yourself be pulled into her side hug, cheeks hurting from smiling so much and a heart that was finally content for the first time since you joined the club.

You hadn’t meant to hurt her and you were glad she knew it. With your guys’ budding friendship now growing, you wondered what the future would hold, happy to be here, beside her, a seed of hope in your heart.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #angst #my writing #fic req #fic #not proofread im sorry #started off strong and then idk where it went...#hdihte

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writing-for-marvel · 11 months

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Fight or Flight Response

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 3 | Series Masterlist | PART 5 > >

Summary: Bucky says he wants to take things slow.

Warnings: strictly 18+ only, smut, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive sex, creampie, spanking, choking, semi public sex, implied oral (fem), implied cum eating, jealousy, a little angst, set within an emergency room, soft fluff

Word count: 3.8k

A/N: this part was inspired by one of @crazyunsexycool’s reblog comments - I hope I did it justice my lovely Val 💙 banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

“That must bother you.” Wanda comments as you return to the ER from your late lunch break together.

You sneak a glance out of the corner of your eye at where Bucky is standing at the entrance to the ER, his signature cheeky smile curving at the corners of his mouth, leaning against the door with all his weight on one strong arm as he chats up a red haired surgical intern.

That same cheeky smile he beamed when you first met him and which is clearly not reserved just for you.

Fuck yes it bothers you.

Bitter envy bubbles in your stomach seeing him simply smiling at another woman. But it’s the implication of that flirty smile that makes your stomach flip altogether.

“What do you mean?” You enquire lightly, trying to play dumb and ignore the tight jealousy clenching at the front of your chest, but your question only prompts Wanda to roll her eyes.

“Your man flirting with Dot over there as if the whole hospital isn’t talking about the two of you being together.” Her outward frustration is nothing compared to the seething spite consuming you, though you focus on not letting that show through your indifferent facade.

Wanda isn’t wrong about the entire hospital knowing Bucky had taken the ‘new emergency medicine resident’ out on not just a second date, but a third, and a fourth as well. And she would know, being the perpetrator of most of those rumours herself.

You had received aggrieved glares from doctors, nurses, anaesthesiologists, and pharmacists alike - all seemingly envious that Bucky Barnes had chosen you to try out dating for the first time. Though, they really had no reason to be.

“He’s not my man.” You try to argue, but Wanda simply stares at you, head slightly cocked, as if to say don’t try to make a fool out of me. “He wants to take things slow.” You reiterate his words to prove your point. If the way he is currently flirting with Dot in full view of anyone in the ER is any indication, as much as you might want him to be, Bucky Barnes is far from being your man.

“He wasn’t taking things slow when you guys fucked in your car at that drive-in movie the other night.” She points out with a sly smile as your cheeks heat at the memory of your fourth date, her eyes drifting to look behind you where they were no doubt landing on Bucky and his amorous intentions, allowing you a moment to compose yourself.

“We’re not exclusive, I wouldn’t even say we’re technically dating - he’s allowed to flirt with and fuck whoever he wants.” Your words come out harsher than you were intending, but Wanda’s expression instead softens, sensing your overeagerness to convince her as more proof of your earnest feelings.

The thought of Bucky hooking up with someone else while you are pining for him every second you are apart makes your stomach churn. Every playful laugh, passionate kiss and sinful touch you share feels special, intimately private - the high possibility that he’s replicating those experiences with others plunges a scalpel right into the centre of your chest.

“Girl, you've got it bad. You need to talk with him about how you feel and what you want out of your ‘relationship’ before he ends up breaking your heart.” She advises, and your shoulders slump, realising she's right. Though, you’re sure it’s already too late to prevent your heart from breaking if he doesn’t feel the same way.

You nod in response, but the prospect of actually having that conversation with Bucky fills your stomach with dread and lurching anxiety. What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he laughs at you and tells you he’s only ever viewed your connection as something casual? That he’s only in it for the sex while he consumes your train of thought from the moment you wake until you close your eyes at night, only to then appear in your dreams as well.

You can feel your pulse racing at just contemplating exposing your heart to him in that manner.

Taking another glance back at where the two had been standing, you find Bucky nowhere to be seen. Dot, however, is talking to one of her fellow surgical interns in light blue scrubs with what you perceive to be a glum expression.

Though it feels wicked to receive pleasure from someone else's apparent misfortune, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the thought that perhaps Bucky rejected her advances.

Maybe there is cause for hope after all.

As if on cue, your pager goes off, indicating a new emergency case. You flash Wanda a quick smile before rushing over to the trauma bays, trying your best to push thoughts of Bucky, and his many potential suitors, from your mind.

* * *

After a long shift, and an even longer night alone at home, where you attempted, and failed, at rerouting your thoughts from Bucky and if he was currently with another woman, you find yourself back in the emergency room coming to the end of a gruelling week, yawning as you’re filling out paperwork.

“Big night last night, huh?” You hear a familiar voice from beside you, though in a much more casual tone than is typically directed at you. You turn to see the radiant smile of your direct superior, emergency medicine attending Dr Thor Odinson.

From the moment he was introduced as your attending, there had always been an unspoken pull between the two of you - he was certainly attractive, with a brilliant smile, sparkling eyes and a natural charisma with his patients that definitely added to his allure.

It also helped that he always gazed at you with a captivation that made your cheeks warm and assigned you the most interesting cases.

You chuckle at his inference. You only wished you were yawning from a long night spent with that someone in particular, but that only reminds you he could have been spending all those hours since you’ve seen him last with someone else.

“You have no idea, it was a night of such indulgence… in my medical textbooks. I’ve started studying for my boards.” He lets out a hearty laugh at your explanation, in your opinion a little over exaggerated for the light banter it was intended as.

“I could come over to your place, help you study. I passed my boards only two rounds ago, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.” He smiles flirtatiously, and though the sight is alluring, it doesn’t stir the same butterflies and desire that Bucky's signature smirk does in your stomach.

For a second you consider perhaps Thor is exactly the type of person you need to take your mind off Bucky - they’re similar in their confident persona and flirty nature, but different enough where it feels like you wouldn’t be going out with a complete replica of the man you can’t get your mind off. Where Bucky is mysterious, Thor is bubbly and convivial.

And though you can hear Wanda’s voice in the back of your mind encouraging that sexual profligacy, you can’t bring yourself to actually covet being with anyone other than your enigmatic paramedic.

Lord, you really do have it bad for him. It’s like an illness.

“I’m sure you do.” You laugh, trying to keep the tone of conversation light and casual. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m seeing someone.” You’re sure Bucky wouldn’t classify your connection the same way, but hearing a proposition from another man has been confirmation enough for you that you don’t want to be seeing anyone else.

Your heart belongs to Bucky Barnes, even if his heart doesn’t belong to you.

“Barnes… I know.” Thor places a large, sturdy hand to the small of your back as he leans in and whispers warm words against your ear. “I’m still interested. Barnes won’t be in it for the long haul like I would be. Give it some thought.”

What you don’t realise at the time is much like how you watched Bucky flirt with Dot the day before, Bucky is currently observing your interaction with Thor from across the ER. Far enough away where he can’t hear you turning Thor down, but fully aware and incensed that Thor’s hand lingers on your back and what he believes to be a flirty exchange being whispered intimately into your ear.

As cute as you think Thor is, you already know he doesn’t have the same effect on you that Bucky does. And though he may be right in that Bucky isn’t committed to you long term, you’re prepared to open your heart to that vulnerability for the rapture he provides when you’re together.

You turn around, heading for your locker to complete your shift when a smile overtakes your features, noticing Bucky striding towards you. You don’t even have the chance to say his name in greeting before his large hands cup your face, his lips crashing onto yours and abruptly he’s ardently kissing you in front of everyone in the emergency room.

You're taken aback by the sudden intensity of his kiss, but as his warm lips move against yours, you can't help but sense your body responding. His fierce hands trail down your back, pulling you flush against his body, and you feel a hardening bulge in his pants pressing against you. You moan softly into his mouth as his tongue swipes along your bottom lip, feeling overwhelming wetness pooling between your legs.

In the back of your mind, you're aware of the judgmental stares from nurses and doctors working in the ER, and the fact that this is highly unprofessional, but you're too caught up in the passion and Bucky’s public display of downright possessiveness to give a damn.

He pulls back slightly, pupils blown with desire and brimming with something of greed mixed with lust, and without speaking a single word, or sparing a glance to those who had been watching on, he grabs your hand securely and pulls you further into the hospital, towards the surgical wing and into the closest on-call room.

The door shuts with a thud and before you can even register that Bucky’s nimble hands have snibbed the lock behind you, he has you pressed up against the door with his fingers digging possessively into your hips.

He kisses you again, hot and demanding, claiming you as his own. No doubt everyone who saw him kiss you in the centre of the ER knows exactly what’s going on behind closed doors of the on-call room.

“You. Are. Mine.” Bucky asserts between feral, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, pushing your white coat from your shoulders so it lands in a heap on the floor and sneaking his hands past the elastic of your scrubs. You’re positive you’ll be covering a hickey with concealer before your shift tomorrow.

The possessive gleam in his eyes when he looks at you while running a finger through your already wet folds makes your stomach flip. You whimper as his cold hands make contact with your warm centre, but the pleasure which tingles up your spine and tightens a knot at the bottom of your belly as he circles your clit makes you forget all about the momentary discomfort.

“No one’s allowed to touch you besides me.” Bucky instructs, slipping one thick finger into your pussy, curling it to graze that spongy spot inside your walls which has you keening. His pace is agonisingly slow, and though Bucky's hands are large, one finger isn’t enough for you to feel full and satiated by him.

You’re positive he knows this, however, and is purposely tormenting you. In this moment all you are craving is more of his touch, more of his kiss, more of him. And that’s exactly what he wants you pining for.

Little does he know, you’re always yearning for him.

“He’s not allowed to touch you.” Bucky growls, adding another finger without warning, using his thumb to draw small circles over your clit while simultaneously scissoring his fingers inside you. Your head falls back, hitting the wall behind you as a moan trickles from your lips.

Bucky’s other hand slips below the hem of your shirt, finding its way to the small of your back, where Thor had touched you through multiple layers of material. His hand on your bare skin elicits goosebumps over your lower back, a reaction you suspect Thor could never pull from you.

Before you can reach your release on his fingers alone, he pulls them out of you, a whimper cascading from your lips as he leaves you feeling empty. While your lips are parted, he prompts you to clean up the arousal coating his fingers with your tongue, tasting the sweet evidence of his effect on you.

He rids you both of your uniforms and underwear, and although you are desperate to be filled by his cock, you know it’s in Bucky’s nature to tease - if you tell him you need him, he’ll just make you wait that much longer to be satisfied.

But Bucky’s clearly not in a teasing mood, nor in a patient one, for when you are both completely naked, he turns you around, steadying yourself against a wall and, nudging your legs apart with his thigh and without hesitation, he thrusts every veiny inch fervently into you until he is fully sheathed, not giving you a moment to adjust as he sets a brutal pace, pounding into you.

You bite down on your bottom lip but it doesn’t stop a guttural moan rumbling up from your chest from the burn of his sudden intrusion.

“You. Are. Mine.” He punctuates each word with a stinging slap to your ass, which only turns you on even more, your flooding wetness evident in the salacious squelch accompanying each of Bucky’s punishing thrusts.

“Say it.” Bucky demands, hips rhythmically meeting your own, pounding into you harder and deeper with every plunge.

When you don’t answer him, your mind short circuiting from the overwhelming pleasure flooding through your entire body like a tsunami, Bucky hooks his forearm around your neck, pulling you back into his chest with a strength where you can feel him all around you, but not tight enough where you can’t breathe altogether.

“Say. It.” He repeats in a severe tone next to your ear which causes a shiver to run down your spine as Bucky flexes his bicep, tightening his hold on you slightly, warning you to obey him.

“I’m yours.” You say breathlessly, hands gripping onto his muscular arm for support as each thrust knocks the air from your lungs, hitting just the right spot inside you which blurs your vision and makes your thighs quiver. “All yours Bucky.”

You feel your body weaken as he pushes you ever closer to falling off the cliff of bliss, Bucky’s strong hold on you the only reason you can remain standing upright rather than your legs giving out completely.

“Bucky, I’m…” You can’t find the words to finish your sentence, instead a wanton sob bubbles up in your throat confirming that you're teetering on the edge of coming undone.

“There’s my good little slut, cum on my cock. My cock.” He removes his arm from caging you to him and moves it down towards where your bodies meet, rubbing tight circles on your clit resulting in your legs shaking uncontrollably as pure ecstasy overtakes your body.

Bucky continues his furious attack on your clit, continuing to pump in and out of you at his rapid pace as you ride out your high. You can’t make out the praise he’s whispering into your ear, everything sounds like a distant hum as euphoria fires in every synapse of your body.

Once he senses you've come down from your orgasm, Bucky’s large hands find your hips, manhandling you as he essentially throws you onto the bed in the small on-call room. Lining the tip of his dick up with your entrance, he enters you again, his pistoning movements erratic as he chases his own high, wrapping his hand around your throat.

“This pussy is mine.” Bucky’s thrusts become sloppy, but he’s mesmerised by the little whimpers falling from your open lips and the bounce of your tits at the continued drive of his cock. His grip on your throat tightens and you know he’s close.

“Fill me up Bucky. Fill your pussy.” You permit, and you can immediately see the surprise flicker in his gorgeous eyes. Finishing inside you isn’t something you’ve done together yet. Cumming on your tits, in your mouth, on your stomach, sure. But always pulling out.

Granting permission for him to cum inside you seems to push him over the edge, Bucky groans as he stills, all the muscles in his beefy body tensing as he spills deep inside you. He smiles down at you, releasing his hold on your throat before leaning down and placing a devoted kiss to your lips.

Bucky pulls out of you slowly, hypnotised by the sight of how both of your releases mix and drip from your core. He collapses beside you, fondness suspended in his steel blue eyes that could so easily deceive you into believing you mean so much more to him than just a casual fuck.

Reaching over the ample space between you, Bucky pulls you all the way into him, arms remaining around your middle and for a moment all you can feel are your slowing hearts beating in time with each other.

You look up at him to find he’s already gazing down at you, prompting a smile to curve at the corner of your lips. The four dates with this man have been the best four dates of your life, but he’s already expressed wanting to take things slow, so you refrain from expressing the notion aloud.

Sensing unsaid words between you, Bucky opens his mouth to speak.

“You’re mine.” He reiterates sternly. “I don’t want anyone else touching you. I don’t want him even looking at you.” You know he’s referring to Thor, and as giddy as it makes you knowing how extremely jealous he’s reacted to Thor simply flirting with you, part of you is piqued knowing he’s ordering this of you when he’s fucking other women.

You’d gladly give yourself just to Bucky Barnes, but you’re not foolishly going to be exclusive with him if he’s not doing the same for you.

“You can’t say that if you’re fucking other people, Bucky. That’s a sexist double standard and I-”

“You think I’m sleeping with other people?” He asks, bewilderment furrowing between his brows as if the notion of having sex with anyone other than you was out of the realm of all possibility. The sight makes your stomach knot with hope and promise, his words suggesting he hadn’t been with anyone else since going on dates with you. “Darling, you are the only woman I’m seeing, fucking, damn talking to. I’m not even thinking about anyone other than you.”

But there is one nagging doubt pricking at the optimism inflating in your chest from his earnestness.

“Don’t lie to me Bucky, I saw you flirting with Dot yesterday.”

A quick look of surprise flashes over his features when these words leave your lips, as if he hadn’t realised you witnessed their interaction, but mostly his eyes show a wounded soul behind them, making you nervous you’ve misinterpreted the entire situation.

“I’m not lying, darling. Sure, she approached me and we harmlessly flirted for maybe a minute tops, but as soon as she even mentioned wanting to see me outside of work I told her no.” Your mind works in overdrive trying to process all his words and the connotations of them, putting down the buoyant feeling in your chest from being in a post orgasmic haze rather than the expectation that Bucky is all yours.

“You told her no?” Even though he clearly stated his rejection of Dot, you need to hear it again for it to fully sink in.

“Why would I want to go out with her, when I have you?” You normally hate when people answer a question with another question, but the implication that you are the only person he wants makes your heart flutter.

You want to believe him. You so badly want to believe him. But past experience has taught you not to trust men when they tell you there’s no one else. That’s almost always a lie.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine.” You pose, fully expecting Bucky to turn down the offer when it involves a commitment from him. He wants to take things slow, you’ve only been on four dates, ruling out seeing other women altogether would surely be a turn off for a player like him.

“I’m already yours.”

You swear your heart stops. Everyone outside of this small on-call room fades into non-existence for the moment when Bucky earnestly meets your eyes.

The pivotal difference between someone claiming you as theirs compared to professing themselves as yours hits you square in the chest.

This time, you kiss him, passionate and desperate even though you've just satisfied each other, your hands tugging at his long hair which you’ve already learnt he enjoys. You move to pull away, your mind set on finally taking his thick, heavy cock in your mouth, but instead his strong arms position you gently against the pillows, caging you underneath his strapping body.

“We’re gonna fuck so often in here they’ll put our names on the door.” Bucky comments with his signature smirk before kissing you again, slow and sensual this time, taking the opportunity to explore your mouth as his hands do the same with your body.

He starts kissing down your naked form before settling between your thighs, somehow already knowing the exact parts of yourself you’re most insecure about and paying those particular attention. The care and affection he’s showing a stark contrast to his roughness earlier, but the intimacy makes you feel special. That you’re the only one who’s seen this soft, romantic side of him.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter that his flirty smirk isn’t reserved just for you when it’s moments like this only you get to experience with him.

You’re the person Bucky Barnes wants. Not Dot the surgical intern, not one of the other numerous doctors in the ER or any of the other hospital staff. You.

Maybe it’s dangerous allowing your heart to believe you truly are the one to change fuckboy Bucky Barnes, but all doubtful thoughts evaporate from your mind when his mouth starts sucking on your already puffy and sensitive clit.

You can let yourself fall, just a little. There’s no harm in that, right?

Part 5 > >

Be added to the series taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @roschele @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @fallenlilangel99 @princezzjasmine @mdrovert @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @netflixxgoddess @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @marvelhoeland @thesadcatto-queen @kayden666 @amiimar @razor-blayde @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @Vickie5446 @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @moonymagician @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet @wishingwell-2 @unaxv

#em writes #Bucky Barnes #Bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #paramedic!bucky barnes #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan characters

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corazondebeskar-reads · 5 months

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you know you never stood a chance - epilogue

you know you never stood a chance series

epilogue: maybe light a candle

series masterlist | prev chapter

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Joel hasn't come home yet. (this takes place about three years after the end of the main story.)

Warnings: established relationship, angst, christmas in the apocalypse, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2, mentions of breastfeeding (not as a fetish), found family, poor communication, oral (f receiving), postpartum depression, possibly violating child labor laws by using a baby as a plot device, pls remember I am playing fast and loose with both canon and the timelines lol

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Christmas Eve.

Or, at least, according to the council. You’re not sure if anyone is really sure what the date is anymore.

But for all intents and purposes, maybe it’s Christmas Eve. The holiday is a thin, moth-bitten version of its former self, but you’ve never been the holly-jolly or the religious sort, so Christmas Lite suits you just fine.

Maria had invited you and Lulu to the mess hall for a big meal and activities for the kids. It was less of an invitation than an expectation, but you stayed home anyway.

And maybe it wasn’t fair. Maybe she wanted you there for the same reason you didn’t want to be there. She’s fucking tough, maybe the strongest person you know, but she has to be feeling Tommy’s absence today, too. It isn’t Aléjandra’s first Christmas, but likely the first one she’ll remember, which is worse.

But it’s more than it just being Lulu’s first Christmas. It’s that Maria had made a point of telling you that Ellie would be there.

You prepare to watch her leave for the night. The light pours in the window when she opens the shed door, and you know she can see your shadow haunting the living room.

You want Ellie to meet her sister. You dream of it nearly every night. But there’s no way in hell you’re doing it without Joel. It’d break his heart. You like to think she knows, at least. Someone (probably Tommy) had to have told her.

So when she climbs the steps instead of walking past, you freeze. Her knuckles rap against the wood, and you close your eyes. You can’t. You need to, but you can’t.

“Maria asked me to remind you that you promised to come by tonight,” she calls through the door.

She knows you can hear her. She knows you choose not to respond (but she doesn’t know you bite your lip so hard to resist that it bleeds).

It would be wrong. But the ache is so strong you’re convinced it must be a physical wound.

She leaves.

“There goes Ellie,” you tell the baby, as you always do. “She’s got places to be, but she loves you very much.” The guilt of keeping them apart makes you nauseous.

Maybe it isn’t true yet, but you think it is. You think, despite everything, despite the anger she harbors for Joel (and a fragment of that for you), that she already loves her sister. Even if she’s only the shadow of a sister spied through dark windows and across the street.

You wonder if she knows her name. Tommy had started the whole “Lulu” thing, and though it had grown on you now, it made you suspect he hadn’t thought to mention she had a real, full name.

Luna Luann. Luna, for Ellie, and Luann for Joel’s favorite tía, the one who smuggled them chewing gum and taught Joel his strong right hook when the other kids were picking on Tommy.

You’d take this secret to the grave, but you hated the name Luann. But when he brought up the suggestion, he had talked about her for nearly twenty minutes, and so you love the woman despite her name, just for the way she brought a little more of Joel out.

You thought they’d be home by Christmas. You’re trying not to worry, but worrying’s one of the things you’re good at. It doesn’t help that you’re still struggling. You’ve been told it’s normal, but these last two weeks with Joel gone have been so hard.

She’s cutting a tooth (her very first), and you can barely catch a break. You sleep when she sleeps, but it’s never enough. A few neighbors have been bringing casseroles still, and it’s the only reason you’ve been eating.

So, you think it’s probably understandable that you crumble after you watch Ellie walk away and Luna starts to cry. The lights are out except for the single candle in the front window. You keep it lit all night in case Joel comes home. A beacon.

If you had a widow’s walk, you’d be haunting it. But you’re not a widow—couldn’t be, you’re not even a wife—and he’ll be fine. He’ll come back.

Joel always comes back.

It might be Christmas Eve, and you’re slumped against the wall of your living room, crying in tandem with your infant. There’s nothing wrong, you checked. It’s so much worse that she’s probably just picking up on your mood.

You orbit around each other that way. She is the sun that you and Joel revolve around, but his absence has sent you both off balance.

The sun might be the more accurate comparison, but you usually like to say Lulu, your Luna, was your moon, and Joel was the sun. He disagrees. He says he’s the rock, and you are her light.

It was profoundly beautiful, but none of the concepts held up to the reality. The truth was that you were a constellation, but without Ellie, you made no recognizable form. Sagitta with one feather, an arrow that can never fly true.

When you settle down to sniffles and the errant tear, Lulu has fallen asleep against your chest. You creep upstairs and lay her in the crib squeezed between the bed and the wall.

The room was plenty large, and part of it had been set up as a nursery. But after she was born, you spent each night on the floor next to the crib.

Joel hadn’t been having that. After the first week, he sat you down and asked if you’d be able to sleep in the bed if she was next to you.

And then he just… built a second, smaller crib. One that fits right up against your side of the mattress. It was low to the ground, so all you had to do was reach down, and you could feel her little chest rise and fall, or scoop her up to nurse her in the middle of the night. She’ll grow out of it fast, but by then, you hope you’ll feel secure enough to move her to the big one just across the room.

You had been embarrassed. Didn’t want anyone to know. After all, mothers had been putting their children to sleep in different rooms for ages. But you weren’t afraid to tell Joel, knew if there was anyone in this town that understood, it’d be him (and Maria).

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with keepin’ your baby close,” he said, as gruff and blunt as always.

When Joel comes home, he finds you that way. On your side, arm dangling into the crib with Lulu’s tiny fingers wrapped around your own. He sat down and gently tapped your shoulder, trying not to disturb the baby.

“What’re you doin’ here, darlin’?” he whispers when you stir. You blink up at him through sore eyes, then smile softly, sending his heart skittering.

“You’re home,” you say, extracting your finger and sitting up to reach for him.

He wraps you in his arms, lets you burrow into the nest of his broad shoulders. “M’sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, chasing the words with a kiss.

“Tommy okay?”

“Yeah, he’s good. Just hit some delays on the way home. Bridge was out. I thought y’all were going to the party?”

You don’t answer right away. You know he’ll feel bad. That he does feel bad, that the guilt eats a little part of him each day. All he wants is his girls all together.

“I was,” you mumble, feeling the tears prick with a vengeance. “But Maria said… Maria said that Ellie would be there.”

Joel’s arms squeeze you a little tighter for a moment. “Y’know I don’t want to get in the way of you talkin’ to her.”

“I know. But after last time… she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, anyway.”

“She’ll come around,” Joel says.

It reignites a new round of self-hatred, that he’s sitting here consoling you. After all, she had spoken to you after their fight. Sat down and told you she wasn’t mad at you, that she knew he probably didn’t even tell you.

And he hadn’t told you, hadn’t clued you in, trying in his foolhardy way to spare you the burden of the lie. And you were mad at him for it; you’d had your own spat after.

But you weren’t mad he did it. Not one bit.

He can tell you don’t want to keep talking about it, and that’s fine by him.

“You miss me, baby?” he murmurs, a teasing brush of his lips over your neck.

You roll your eyes. “Oh no, did you have to go two weeks without gettin’ laid?”

He chuckles, dark and raspy, as he reaches to cup your ass and squeeze, smirking when you gasp.

“And you’re tellin’ me those little fingers were enough for your greedy cunt? Like ya ain’t droolin’ for my cock right now?”

You whimper. He’s right. Two weeks is too fucking long for either of you.

He tugs you properly into his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, before he just stands up and carries you into the guest room across the hall. It’s not ideal, but if you leave both doors open, you’ll be able to hear Luna if she wakes.

“How’ve you not thrown your back out?” you grumble as he manhandles you.

He tosses you onto the bed, already peeling off his clothes and pointedly ignoring you.

He’s halfway through tugging his jeans down when he stops and looks at you. “What’re you doing? Let me see ya, sweetheart.”

You’ve long gotten over how easy you are for him. You only hadn’t stripped yet because you wanted to work him up. “You can see me just fine. Or do you need your glasses, old man?”

He takes the bait, shaking his head, before looming over you and running his hands down the sides of his old shirt you use for a nightgown. He barely grazes your breasts, just brushing the tips of your hardened nipples and grinning when you whine.

“Up,” he orders, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

You lift enough for him to pull it off and flop back down. It’s your turn to smirk as he watches the way your tits bounce with deep hunger.

And then he fucking rips the along the side of your panties and pulls them off, throwing them to the floor.

“Hey!”

“Shut up, you can sew ‘em back.”

“I’ve already sewn that pair twice, Joel. You’re a fuckin’ menace.”

“Is that so?” Suddenly his breath is hot against your cunt, and you clench around nothing.

“Uh-huh,” you moan as he runs one finger along the seam of your cunt. “‘Cause you’re a menace.”

“Only for you, darlin’.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Let me do a survey around town.”

He shuts you up by sliding two fingers right into your cunt, the stretch almost too much. Almost. But you don’t really notice because he buries his face between your lips, and any sassy remark comes out in a desperate cry.

He pulls away and gives you a warning look, head tilted. His free hand comes up to cover your mouth, thick fingers clamping down and digging into your cheek. It makes you moan, but it also muffles it, so it works out fine.

“If you want your turn, you gotta be quiet. Otherwise, I’ll just have mine and shut you up proper.”

You choke down the moan dredged up by the thought of his cock down your throat and make the saddest pleading eyes you can muster.

He rolls his, shaking his head, before he goes back to your neglected clit.

You’re close, so close when you hear it. You pat Joel’s head, sitting up. “Was that the door?”

The shift is immediate. Three years in town has allowed Joel to relax somewhat, sometimes, but he slips back into it in an instant. He pulls back, brow furrowed, squinting like it’ll help him hear better.

It comes again, louder this time, insistent enough for him to pick up. A firm knocking.

There’s a pause, but Joel’s already on his feet, pulling his clothes back on. He tosses your shirt over as he ducks out of the doorway and you’re slipping it over your head when whoever is outside grows impatient.

Rapid, furious banging rattles the door, and you dart across the hall to shut the bedroom, but it’s too late.

Lulu starts wailing immediately, her little face scrunched up, nose wrinkling, and tears pouring out faster than a faucet. You scoop her up and soothe her, cradling her as she finds solace for her hurt feelings and empty stomach.

Joel goes downstairs, partly to shut up the racket but mostly because the sound fills him with dread. When he opens the door, it flings wide, and the tirade begins immediately.

Ellie storms in, already yelling. “—could you? What the fuck is wrong with you? You won’t even let her come out for fuckin’ Christmas because she might see me?”

You’re going down the stairs as soon as you hear her voice, but she stops yelling when she sees you on the landing.

“It’s not his fault,” you say, face hot with frustration and raw hurt. You hate the way your eyes water.

“Like hell, it isn’t. Maria said you were going to come, that one of you might actually have the balls to tell me you had a fuckin’ baby, and—”

“And I decided not to go, Ellie. Joel wasn’t even home. He didn’t know.”

Lulu has started to cry again, distracted from nursing by your ire. You murmur apologies, kissing the little tuft of dark hair on her head, and try to coax her back to your breast.

Ellie’s eyes are wide, and feet planted, ratty sneakers dripping filthy snow across the floor. Her mouth hangs open as she takes in the tiny, ruddy creature who finally agreed to return to her meal.

“Hey, Ellie. We had a fuckin’ baby,” Joel says after the silence hangs for a minute too long.

The bark of laughter that bursts out of her looks like it hurts, but she can’t fight it. The tension dissolves into absurdity and then tears.

Ellie sits on the ground instead of the perfectly nice sofa to her left. You come down the stairs and sit beside her.

You look up at Joel, and he nods. You wish he’d come sit, but he’s too afraid to break the peace. “Would you like to hold your sister?” you ask Ellie, keeping your voice low and steady.

“Can I? I mean… what if I break her?”

“She’s pretty tough.” Lulu is done eating, just suckling for comfort, so you pry her off your breast and tug your shirt back up.

Joel takes her without thinking, leaning her against his shoulder to help her work out the air.

Once she gives a satisfactory belch, he thrusts her at Ellie, who’s startled enough to take her without thinking about it.

You all hold very still. Except Lulu, who is blissfully unaware of the strife and coos up at her big sister. She bats a little hand at her face, smacking her nose in an attempt to grab on. Ellie laughs, and her smile, her perfect smile that you haven’t seen in a year, breaks out.

You can’t help it; you start crying. Ellie looks up in alarm, but Joel shakes his head, moving closer to rub your shoulder.

“It’s not you,” he says solemnly, “it’s just hard, after.” He gestures at the baby.

“It is you,” you say, and Joel scrubs a hand over his face with a soft groan. “It’s—I’m sorry, I just—”

Ellie’s looking like she might make a break for it. She tries to hand the baby back to Joel, who refuses.

You get ahold of yourself. “It’s not bad, Ellie. I’ve just been waiting for this since she was born.”

Ellie softens and then scowls. “Then you should have told me. You should have told me you were pregnant in the first place. I said you could talk to me.”

“No, I couldn’t,” and you pause as she shoots a dirty look at Joel. “No, not because of him. Because I would have done the same damn thing, so you may as well hate me too.”

“What?” She seems genuinely shocked, which you don’t have the patience for.

“I would do the same damn thing. If I had been there, there would have been nothin’ in the fuckin’ world keeping me from getting to you, Ellie. Nothing short of death. Not then, not now. I’d do it for her, too.”

The room is stifling, and Joel hasn’t even lit the hearth yet. Your breath comes out in little puffs, and every one of you has wet, devastated eyes. Even Lulu, who looks like she might be the first to break into tears.

Ellie looks down and sighs. “So, Lulu, huh?”

“Actually,” Joel says, and chances a step closer, squatting down. “It’s Luna. Luna Luann. Tommy’s just an idiot.”

Ellie’s a smart kid. You can see the moment it clicks—the way she looks up at Joel with something akin to hope. It fades quickly, but you know he saw it, too. His own staggering heart, heavy with love unspoken, is betrayed in the way he has to fight a smile, choke down the relief. Maybe, just maybe.

Maybe next year, you’ll get a tree.

thank you all so, so much.

*title from "Alone This Holiday" by The Used

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!oc #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us smut #you know you never stood a chance series

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bonefall · 4 months

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but what makes characters like fallenleaf and bb!brokenstar redeemable?

Choice. They were stripped of their power, put through extreme circumstances, and then made the choice to leave their violent histories behind them.

And you will note that it's VERY rare that I show these types of characters being redeemed. There's two 'redemptions' in a very long history of tyrants. Tigerstar, Dalestar, Skystar, Ashfur, Darktail, One Eye, Leopardstar, Mudclaw, Thistlestar technically if he had become leader. 2 out of 10 is a very small ratio.

(and fallenleaf isn't really 'redeemed' in my mind, so much as she simply stopped being a tyrant. There is no way for her to ever make up for what she did and that is a part of her character.)

And of them, Skystar is the worst individual. By far. He has no reason to want to change, nor would he ever. He loves power too much. He would look for it anywhere he went, because he hates listening to anyone tell him what to do. Having this is important to him than anything.

BB!Brokenstar is so different he's not a great comparison to Skystar, imo. He's a protector spirit, the embodiment of SkyClan's fallen 5th oak tree, and basically the logical conclusion of the "might makes right" mindset that defines Clan Culture in his era. So his redemption in finding his place as SkyClan's guardian is basically about "righting a cosmic wrong," and putting the magic to rest in its rightful place.

Brokey's a mortal when he takes the shape of one, but the story I'm trying to tell with him is that fury, righteous love, and protectiveness have their place. He comes to understand that as he watches SkyClan form, and realize that no matter how different they are from the toxic culture he was born into and molded by, he loves them, and he needs them to become what they want to be.

THIS is what that fury is for. To kill the rats and defend the besieged Clan, so they can live freely while he slumbers.

Fallenleaf's a better comparison. Both she and Skystar wanted to forcefully remake society in their own images, and would brutalize anyone who didn't live up to their strict standards.

(contrast to BB!Brokenstar who strategically took out only two cats. Raggedstar and Marigoldkit. He actually limited violence against his own Clan.)

But Fallenleaf and Skystar are very different people. Fallenleaf did what she did out of strict, obsessive dedication to the Code. She was fueled by what she'd been taught by Bramblestar, allowing Ashfur to physically abuse Lionpaw "for his own good." That you have to hurt what you love to protect it.

Still; I very much made it intentional that her punishment is SO harsh. The Lake cats HATED her. She ruined everything and she knows it. Sol gets bored of her, steals her body, and leaves her stranded 100 years in the past. She's forced to stay in those tunnels and cling to the mortal plane, just thinking about her family to keep her tethered, as civilizations rise and fall outside.

Now back in her home, she's almost unrecognizable. She's traveled so far and lost so much, and been forced to sit with her shame for a very long time. Not even StarClan is old enough to remember her crimes; and it's she alone who carries that burden. It's a weight she chooses to carry, to remind her of the worst version of herself. Something she could become again, if she isn't careful.

BB!Skystar's a venerated founder.

Nearly everything he did in life was to serve his own ends, his own ego, and he's lauded for that. His followers ate up his excuses like slop. He built the battle culture the Clans would come to know, by making a move to crush anything that mildly offended him

Of course he's not going to regret shit. Power gets him everything he wants. He's got a circling entourage of sycophants to tell him how smart and strong he is all the time, droves of warriors who pray to him for strength in battle, all of his enemies in life are now forced to treat him like a god-among-gods in heaven. And this is exactly the way he likes it.

Man got away with it, over and over. He collects his reward every starry night.

Any time where he WOULD be threatened with having his power taken away, he would simply gaslight/gatekeep/girlboss his way back to the top. What? You gonna stop him? He will kill you and then frame your murder like a grand triumph over the Great Unfairness of the world. He has the most prey in the forest. He has the strongest cats in the land. What are you, to him, besides an angry squirrel chattering atop the branch?

Why would he ever choose to be different? He wouldn't. Power gets him what he wants, and he loves getting what he wants.

#bone babble #better bones au

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 2 years

Text

Younger Gods: I

Younger Gods Master List Dream x fem!reader (unnamed)

Dream is protective of his ravens after Jessamy, and he's still bad at listening. The reader finds this out the hard way.

Warnings: extremely mild gore/injury to animal, language, Dream is his own warning

A/N: Playing a little fast and loose with dream physics, but we're just here for a good time, right? I read the comics an age ago, and thought I might as well pop back into the fandom for a quick swim after falling in love all over again via Netflix. Aiming for 5 chapters, but we'll see where this takes us.

*Remember, to like is kind but to comment/repost is divine.

**If you'd like to join the taglist, please let me know in the comments!

Chapter 1: Just don't bite me

“How did you get here?”

She stared at the injured raven hopping across her garden like it might open its beak and speak. Give her some answers. It’s eye fixed on her, pinning her even as it fought gravity and pain, flapping with a wing bent the wrong way.

Glossy black feathers hid the blood it left on the long grass. If it didn’t move like something hurt, didn’t struggle to hold up its broken wing, she’d never guess it had crashed into her little world by accident. Which brought her back to the question.

It fluffed the feathers around its neck in an attempt to look bigger, croaking as it shuffled farther away. Soft thunder purred in the clouds, and the steady rain dripped from the tip of the raven’s beak. She held up her hands. Sank low on her heels, as near to the raven’s level as she could reach without falling flat on her belly. If that’s what it took to earn its trust, though, she’d get a little muddy.

For all that it was uninvited, the bird was her guest now, and if she didn’t take care of it, it could never leave. Maybe it would haunt her. Maybe she’d just feel guilty as hell.

“You’re hurt.”

The raven twitched, its head tilting three different ways, studying her expression from varied angles, like it would reveal malicious intent in the right light. He could look all he wanted, but she needed to get him out of the rain.

She started unwinding the thick, knit scar from around her neck, speaking low in an effort to keep the bird calm. “I have something that can help. It’s just a salve, but you’ll heal much faster, and I’m sure you’d like to be on your way as soon as possible. But I’m going to take you inside first, so you can get warm and dry. The rain never really stops.”

Prepared with the folded cloth, she crept forward a few steps, giving the bird time to move away. When it didn’t, she closed the distance and muttered, “Just don’t bite me, okay?”

“No promises, witch,” the raven said.

Her hands stilled an inch away from his feathers. So, he was magic. Magic and rude as fuck.

She spluttered, “I’m not a witch.”

“Yeah?” The raven looked up at the clouds and down at her cottage. “Well, this place is weird. And so are you.”

“It was the best I could do.” She carefully wrapped the scarf around him, mindful of the bad wing – and the beak. “Sorry it doesn’t live up to your standards.”

Her first guest, and all he could do was insult all her hard work. He scoffed but held still in his swaddling as she pulled up to her chest and tramped back inside.

It wasn’t her fault it rained all time. Well, technically it was, actually, but she liked it. The water looked beautiful running down the windows, and the cozy fire glowed bright enough to warm a soul when the trees rustled in the wind. With rain hushing over the roof and a whisper of distant thunder to keep her company, she never felt lonely.

Tasteless corvid.

She set him down by the fireplace while she chose a good blanket to craft a makeshift nest. Only when she’d stripped off the scarf and moved him to the softer resting place did she tug off her own drenched sweater, shivering until she found a good replacement. Her wet hair clung to her neck as she pulled a sweater three sizes too big over her head. The sleeves dangled past her fingers, and she shoved them up past her elbows in thoughtless habit.

The bird hadn’t taken his eyes off her, but he still mustered enough faith to thank her. Sort of.

“This is… nice.”

It sounded like an olive branch, so she took it as one. The one room cottage was her haven. Even if it looked small and worn, she found it warm and soft, kind in the way a home ought to be.

“I like to think so.”

She moved to the workbench under the window that looked out to the garden, where she’d been sitting when the raven dropped out of the clouds with an all too human cry. Her fingertips ghosted over herbs and pots and potions as she looked for the little vial she wanted. She only finished it a week ago. It would take three months to make another. But that was alright. No one else really needed it.

When she knelt beside the bird, vial open and ready to drip over his injuries, he clacked his beak at her.

“Not a witch, huh?”

The wing felt so fragile in her hand. She couldn’t let him distract her. “My mother was. I’m… weird.”

“You can say that again.”

“This might hurt.”

“What do you -?” He broke off in a sharp caw, instinctively jerking away as she pulled his bones straight.

“Sorry, sorry. The worst is over now, I promise.”

He had a wonderfully colorful vocabulary for a raven, and he shouted a few rainbows while she wrapped his wing in the best position to heal. The white gauze practically glowed against his onyx plumage, and he looked just a little more pitiable.

“Sorry,” she repeated.

The bird shook himself, stretching and folding his good wing three times to push away the pain.

“Son of a bitch,” he hissed. “Fucking damn. Teach me to pay attention. Kids and their fucking rocks.” He’d been staring into the fire as he recovered his equilibrium, but once he could pause his cursing, the bird looked back at his host.

“Name’s Matthew. What do I call you, weird girl who isn’t a witch?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you like.”

“I was asking for your name, lady.”

“I don’t have one I can give you.”

“That’s not helpful.” He looked around the room, probably on the hunt for something to critique, and although his beak opened, it snapped shut again when he looked back over his shoulder. He stared at her in the firelight, but not at her face. “What happened to your neck, lady?”

Her hand flew up to cover the scars, a landscape of smooth, raised, and sunken marks ringing her throat. She’d forgotten when she took off the scarf. Horror and humiliation twisted in her stomach, and she was wildly aware of being ugly and vulnerable in the same breath. Instead of answering, she rushed back to her closet, pulling out an even longer knit piece than the one she’d wrapped the bird – Matthew – in outside.

He picked up on the subtext, deflating a little and pointedly changing the subject.

“How long will this magic potion of yours take? I need to get back to the Dreaming. My boss is waiting for me.”

The scarf’s tail dropped from numb fingers, one loop short of her goal, left to trail on the ground as she wondered how the fuck her day could get any worse.

“The Dreaming?”

“Yeah. Know of many other realms with talking ravens, lady?”

“No,” she admitted, cursing herself in the privacy of her own thoughts. “It will take a couple days for you to fly again, I think.”

“That’s no good.” Matthew pecked at his bandages, and she rushed over.

“Stop that. You’ll make it worse.”

“Can’t fly with this,” he said, mouth full of gauze.

“You can’t fly without them, either,” she said gently.

Giving up with an enormous sigh, the raven wriggled down into the blanket and glowered through the window at the continuous rain. A little bolt of lighting reflected in his gleaming eye, like an idea sparking to life.

“Your weird little house is pretty close, you know,” he said. “To the Dreaming, I mean. I bet you could walk there.”

“It takes a day to walk in or out.”

“Why?”

“Because I made it that way.”

“Oh, you’re definitely weird.” He paused, like he was finally noticing the blanket nest and the empty vial glittering by the warm flames. When he spoke again, he sounded the slightest bit contrite. “Weird but nice. And I still need your help.”

“I don’t want to go to the Dreaming, Matthew.” She couldn’t bring her voice to carry more than a whisper. She was so afraid of her dreams she didn’t even sleep anymore. Not much. Walking into the fertile fields of the Dream Lord’s imagination…

“You don’t have to go in,” the raven insisted. “Just get me to the gates and I’ll be someone else’s problem. I promise.”

She couldn’t answer. She really didn’t dare. The laws of hospitality urged her to pick up the bird and carry him wherever he wanted to go, and he made it all sound so reasonable, so easy. Just a stroll and a hand over to a friendly face eager to welcome him back. It wasn’t, though. Oh, the walk was fine. She came and went from her hideaway world all the time, but her heart thrummed in terror to even think of the Dreaming. Was she really so close? Her home didn’t feel as safe as it had that morning. The security of the cozy storm left something wanting now. None of this was designed to keep other entities out. It was just… out of the way. On the other hand, if she left the bird – one of Dream’s ravens! – here to recover and his master came for him, it would never be a sanctuary ever again.

Maybe… if she was quick…

“I’ll –” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’ll try. I’ll walk you to the gates.”

“Thank you.” At least he sounded like he meant it. Lack of gratitude wouldn’t change her mind at this point, but she appreciated it. Walking twelve hours with a rude bird muttering under his breath didn’t sound like the fun kind of adventure.

None of this sounded like the fun kind of adventure.

Fun adventures involved late night diners and questionable life choices after two bottles of wine.

“My master needs me,” Matthew said, like he still needed to prove his point.

That was fine. That was great. Dream would be missing his raven soon. She was tempted to take a faster mode of travel, but she wasn’t sure what that would do to the raven, so she hurried to gather everything she’d need for the walk instead. Tall rainboots, a hooded jacket, and two shawls. She wrapped one around Matthew to keep him warm and tied the other around herself like a sling. With the bird nestled close to her natural warmth, she charged back into the rain. She didn’t even take the time to bank the fire.

Matthew, apparently, decided her rush was entirely for his benefit. “Thanks for this. I mean it.”

She paused at the edge of the garden, standing in the gap in the stone wall as she studied the horizon, looking for something to tell her where to go.

“Which way to the Dreaming?”

Matthew fidgeted and jerked his beak at a random point. “There. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, you know?”

She didn’t know or she wouldn’t have asked, but her breath was better saved for walking. Nearly running, she sped through the emerald green grass and low white flowers in the verdant moss. She didn’t look. Didn’t appreciate. Didn’t stop to touch, or pick, or smell. If she had the stamina to run the twelve hours, she would.

Pattering rain sounded louder inside her hood, and the sky broiled with clouds promising a real storm.

Maybe he could hear her heart pounding by his ear, or he finally realized she was moving awfully quickly for someone who didn’t want to go on this trip in the first place. Whatever his inspiration, Matthew dragged their conversation back from the dead to persuade her she’d made the right choice as she forded a narrow stream.

“You don’t have to be afraid of Dream,” he said. “If he’s upset, it will be with me. You’re doing me a favor.” He paused, struck by a new through that almost immediately spewed out his beak. “You’re not old enemies or something, are you?”

“No. I’ve never met him. I’d rather not meet him today.”

Matthew croaked. “Why not?”

Sometimes the truth was the simplest path to peace, and she’d like the bird to shut up for a while. “I have bad dreams. I don’t want to get any closer to them. Thanks.”

“You know, he could do something about that.”

“I don’t like favors.”

“But I’d argue he owes you one.”

“I’d argue that I don’t care.”

More croaking, this time accompanied by rustling from his safely bound wings. She remembered ravens were in the business of knowing things, watching and listening until they could deliver a secret whole and unbroken to their master. Her cagey replies must bother him on some deeper level.

“So why are you doing this? You clearly don’t want to.”

“Because you were hurt. You needed help. And I don’t want your master to come looking for you here.”

He cast incredible side-eye for a creature wrapped in home-knit outerwear strapped to a stranger’s chest.

But at least he shut-up.

It was the perfect landscape for long walks. She’d designed it that way. Gently rolling hills melted into copses of trees just too small to be forests but deep enough to lose the daylight below the tangled canopy. Any other day, she’d enjoy this trek. But now she wondered if she’d ever be able to enjoy it again, knowing which direction the Dreaming lay and how close it pressed to her border.

She slogged up the hills and slipped down the muddy sides, careful not to tumble and crush the fragile bird she carried against her chest. She slipped through the woods, ignoring the sweet smell of old loam and dried leaves. When the heavy rain came down in a curtain as the crested the last hill, she pushed through that, too.

The raven stayed awake for the entire trip. She shaved a full three hours off her usual time, and she reached the end exhausted. She should’ve packed a stimulant. Maybe an energy drink. Maybe a potion. Something. She had to get herself back home after this.

A field stretched to the cusp of oblivion, a black void at the edge of the turf her mind fought not to notice. She walked to the edge, slowing until she came to the brink, and then she had no ideas.

“I don’t see anything.”

“Well, you’re not a raven,” Matthew said. “I see where we need to go. Just trust me. There’s a path a few feet to the left.”

She shuffled obediently to the side, but she still saw nothing.

“Just take a step,” the bird insisted. “I’ll guide you through it.”

She didn’t want to. Every instinct from every element of her pedigree screamed that this was a Bad Idea. Relying on blind faith and a raven’s intuition might lead her into the Dreaming, but she bet she’d have a long fall someone with wings wouldn’t consider a problem. Some little oversight would swallow her whole, and nightmare would eat her alive, or she’d be trapped in her own night terrors.

“Why don’t I just leave you here?” She could hear the panic in her wobbling pitch, and her trembling hands banished any doubt as she reached for the knot in the sling.

“I thought you didn’t want Morpheus to come looking for me in your weird little bubble realm.”

She closed her eyes. Drew a shaky breath. No, she didn’t want that, but would it be worse than voluntarily stepping into that darkness? The raven couldn’t protect her. He wouldn’t even know what was safe for her, really. He was flying on a lot of assumptions, and she didn’t want to pay the price for his optimistic naivety.

“I don’t know what the void will do to me,” she confessed. “I’ve never actually… touched it.”

“It won’t do anything,” the raven said. “And it’s so thin you won’t even notice. The Dreaming is right there.”

Fucking hell. Her hands seized air, opening and closing like she could snatch courage out of thin air. Damn it all.

She lunged into the thing she didn’t even want to look at, and for the barest moment, she felt it. Nothing. No pulse. No breath. No thought or feeling at all. A gap stretched between past and present, like she’d been snuffed out – or never began to exist in the first place.

Then her momentum carried her through in a boggling mess of physics, and she was somewhere again.

Air punched into empty lungs, and she stumbled, nearly falling to her knees as light, sound, and her own heartbeat returned.

“Whoa! Hey! Watch out for the water!”

Matthew’s shout brought her eyes down, and she saw dark waves lapping at her feet, sucking them into the black sand as the foam tried to climb up and over her rain boots. The fact that sea foam was trying to do anything clued her into the water’s threat, and she darted away with her newly-beating heart in her throat.

“Well done. You see? Not so bad. You’re fine.”

It had been one of the worst experiences in her fucked-up life, and she might’ve told him so if she had the breath. Instead, she barely managed to mutter, “I think I hate you.”

“Nah.”

She stopped to push the last of the void from her lungs, sucking in oxygen like she’d never tasted it before, and the sensation stirred several memories she couldn’t take time to stop and fight. Not on the shores of the Dreaming. Not so close to the Lord of Nightmares. She wrestled them down, threw other thoughts and needs over them like a rug over a stain. Her horrors would have to wait until she slept again, and she planned on putting that off for a long, long time.

When she felt ready and able to move again, she asked, “Where to now?”

“The gates,” he said, like he thought she was the stupid creature alive.

She looked away from her feet and finally noticed the looming doors further down the beach. Silently, she had to agree that she was, in fact, incredibly stupid. They were hard to miss, taller than a skyscraper, carved over in faces, beasts, and scenes she didn’t recognize, gleaming like aged ivory. Beautiful and awe-inspiring in the way an angel or the Milky way inspired reverence and respect. Something a little too vast for her to grasp, but towering over her regardless.

Yeah. Time to get this over with.

As she power-walked across the cold sand, shadowed by the rocks piercing out of the waves, she unknotted the sling and pulled Matthew out of his cocoon.

“This bus has come to the end of its route,” she said. “We hope you’ve enjoyed your trip.”

The raven cackled, trying to stretch his wing in spite of the way she still cradled him. “You find a sense of humor in the void?”

“No, just a sense of relief. Seriously. Watch where you’re flying next time. I won’t have another healing salve like a gave you for several months, so if you do this again, you’re fucked.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.” He was all but straining forward in her hands, eager to get home, to complete his mission and reassure his master that all was well. “You sure you don’t want to meet my master? Or Lucienne?”

It didn’t matter she didn’t know who Lucienne was. She didn’t need to meet any more dreams – or servants of dreams. “Very.”

“So, you’re just going to ding-dong-ditch Dream of the Endless?”

“Yup.”

“Suit yourself.”

The sand made it harder to keep her pace, sliding away under her heels, sapping her strength as she hurried to drop her guest off at his front door. Waves of power rolled down from the high wall, and she felt trapped against the tide of Dream’s domain and the dark ocean lapping up the shore behind her. Everything looked grand and stark. She didn’t belong with her green boots and her rain-slicked jacket. The hood had fallen back, and a damp strand decided to stick on her cheek. With her hands full of bird, she had no way to pull it off.

Cold, wet, disheveled.

Tired.

Afraid.

She was ready for this adventure to end.

“How are you going to get back through the void?” the bird asked.

She shook her head, amazed. “You just thought to ask that? Never mind. I have a shortcut.”

“What kind of shortcut? Why did we just walk for nine hours in the rain?”

She plucked at the end of the second shawl, the one she used to keep him warm on that nine-hour trip through the storm. Such gratitude.

“Because I didn’t know what it would do to you.”

“I can survive the void, lady, you think your shortcut’s tougher than that?”

How far away was the damn gate? Would this beach never end?

“All that matters,” she panted, “is that you’re going home. I’m going home.” She turned the bird in her hands so they were eye-to-eye. “And we will never have to see each other again.”

Sounding more human than ever, the bird tutted, but whatever he wanted to say was swallowed in a sudden, sharp wind.

The austere stillness consumed itself in a rage, lifting black sand and sea spray into an impenetrable haze. One second, she could see the gate. The next, she could barely see three feet in front of her. Shielding her eyes from the sand with one arm, she instinctively tucked the bird close, bending over him protectively. The grit gave the wind claws, and it lashed her bare flesh raw.

What have you done with my raven?

The question pressured her from all sides, a crushing, physical weight ringing in her ears as it forced her to cower in on herself. She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t breathe. Matthew squawked and fluttered in her arms, flopping free with half a scarf still wrapped around him, tangled in his claws. “Sir, wait! Sir!”

The raven’s call settled the hurricane, but the overwhelming pressure remained. The lingering effect of the voice pressed against her soul like a death knell as a figure gathered itself, standing between the two travelers and the gate. The raven struggled towards the tall, dark shape, and she all but slapped herself in the face in her fight to get the dust out of her eyes, nose, and mouth.

Matthew called the newcomer sir.

She was peering up at Dream of the Endless.

He knelt to accept the bird, face dark as a nightmare. Long, pale fingers explored the broken wing. When they pulled away, a few rusty crumbs of blood clung to the pads, and eyes burning with angry stars lifted to pierce her.

He asked again, “What have you done with my raven?”

This time the voice was a voice, not a force of nature. He sounded like smoke and sand, deep and sure as the ocean at her back. That voice might scour her away like a rough patch in his perfect Dreaming, and nothing in his tone said she was welcome.

Now she felt like the raven – a little bird with a hoarse cry and hollow bones all too easy to snap.

“You hurt something of mine.” A snarl carved into his face, and even as Matthew squawked for his lord’s attention, the Dream Lord reached out.

His shadow stretched long and dark from his feet, against the light. It crept towards her, darker than the black shore, and she stumbled over her own feet as she backed away, landing hard on her hands.

“I didn’t,” she whispered. Her voice was long gone. It fled and left her to die whimpering and pathetic, the traitor. Scrambling back as the shadow approached, she shook her head. “Please, don’t.”

Cawing and flapping, Matthew shouted, “Sir, stop!”

The shadow slowed, just for an instant, and she leapt to her feet. Tears burning her eyes from fear and grit, she ran three steps back, never daring to take her eyes off the threatening Endless. She clawed into her own mind, grabbing for the half of herself she preferred to leave wandering the sky over her cottage. A rumble drew Dream’s eyes to the dark clouds gathering at the edge of the Dreaming, and she saw his eyes flick back to her just as the lightning struck.

Her summoned bolt traced down to catch her up in a flash of burning light. The crackle was almost unbearable, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Dream’s shadow was still snaking after her.

She wasn’t there when the shadow reached the place she’d stood. The lightning blast reached through her to the ground and then back up into the clouds. It took her with it.

An echoing strike deposited her in the cottage garden.

She fell to her hands and knees as the power zapped away into the sky. Mud squished up between her fingers, and she shuddered in place, too busy shaking to move. Rain rolled down her face, cleaning the salt of sweat, tears, and sea. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy after weightless, electric travel, and she bowed to the animal urge to just freeze in place for a while. She needed to think. Maybe then she could remember how to stand.

An Endless wanted her dead. Dream, no less. She had more reason than ever to stay awake. Maybe she could find a trick to avoid sleep forever.

But his raven knew where she lived, and it wasn’t a long trip.

She needed to run.

Chapter 2

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #fanfiction

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hard-core-super-star · 7 months

Text

she had the world [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x stark!reader

summary: your first meeting with the future inheritor of bishop security doesn't go as planned and, unfortunately for the two of you, first impressions matter.

warnings: none, i think; enemies-to-lovers vibe but in an accidental way aka kate's a well-intentioned idiot but her comments don't land well; i haven't watched the iron man films in years and this AU definitely doesn't fit the real MCU timeline but shhhhh, just roll with it

wordcount: 944

a/n: wrote this for my lovely 🧞‍♀️ anon who requested an expansion of this headcanon set. i was originally only going to just do another headcanon set but i decided to try my hand at writing a mini-fic. it's sort of a prologue for a longer fic i may or may not write at some point. i just love this little AU i accidentally created so...we'll see what happens. hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“This is ridiculous,” you grumble as you mess with the top button of your slightly wrinkled shirt. “If the owner of the company couldn’t bother to show up, why do I have to?”

Your comment makes Happy chuckle, although he’s quick to pull himself back together the second he catches sight of the glare Pepper throws his way.

“Listen, I know it’s not an ideal way to spend your night but it’s better than a long meeting with boring investors.”

“Tony wouldn’t show up to those either so my question still stands,” you counter.

This time, you’re the one on the receiving end of the blonde’s glare. She hates when you refer to your dad by his name despite the fact that he couldn’t care less what you call him as long as he’s able to stay in your good graces. Tony Stark has many flaws but he’s not the world’s worst father...even if every news outlet in the world tries to make it seem that way.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, y/n, but you’re going to be responsible for Stark Industries sooner or later. I’m only trying to help you here.” Her tone leaves no room for arguments so you don’t even try, you just look out the window until you reach your destination.

You’re not about to admit it but Pepper’s right.

Tony has enough on his hands dealing with the aftermath of the Sokovia Accords to spend any time on Stark Industries. Especially when “spending time on '' is equal to going to awful parties and meeting the CEO of every new company that shows up.

Which is a lot harder than it seems considering the amount of “entrepreneurs” living in New York.

So, that means it’s up to you and Pepper to keep the family business afloat. You handle all the public appearances and she makes sure nothing goes wrong regarding the technical and economic side of things. Meanwhile, Tony spends his days fixing up his old Iron Man suits and trying not to let his guilt eat him alive. (He’s failing miserably but at least he still spends time with you)

You’re not happy about the situation you all find yourselves in but it’s not like you can do anything about it.

Which is how you end up bored out of your mind at a stuffy party hosted by the owner and CEO of Bishop Security. You’ve heard the name in passing, mainly by a frustrated Pepper trying to deny suspicious meetings on your behalf. You don’t know much about Eleanor Bishop but you’ve heard her daughter’s name far too many times to act like you don’t know who they are.

Unfortunately, no amount of rumors could have prepared you for the reality of coming face-to-face with Kate Bishop.

You bump into her, literally, on your way to talk to Pepper in hopes of convincing her that having spent two hours at the party is enough.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” She instantly apologizes and any hope of appearing annoyed fades away instantly. “I, uh, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Her words leave your mind spinning so you reply without thinking, accidentally channeling the small pieces of Tony Stark that live within you. “Should I be worried about that?”

Kate blinks back her surprise at your tone. “I hope not. It’s just…you’re y/n Stark, right?”

There’s a certain amount of awe in her voice that should be flattering but you’ve been burned far too many times to fall for it. Even if her words are accompanied by a genuine smile.

“That depends on what you’re going to say next,” you say, settling somewhere between cautious and unwelcoming.

“Well, I’m sort of a really big fan of the Avengers.”

You hate how adorable she looks with those stupidly soft eyes and fidgeting hands. She might mean well but the Avengers are a sore spot for you and certainly not one you’re going to talk about with someone you don’t know. (Especially when she’s technically supposed to be your main competition)

“Save your breath, Bishop,” you reply with an almost inaudible sigh. “I don’t want to hear it.”

You attempt to walk away from her but she’s far too quick. Her hand reaches out to grasp your forearm and you do your best not to look affected by how strong her grip is. “Hold on, what are you talking about? I thought you were part of the team too.”

“That’s none of your business. Don’t you have something better to do? Maybe yet another girl you’ll ditch by the end of the week?”

Your comment is a low blow and one that heavily relies on gossip forums dedicated to the brunette. Gossip forums that you merely visited due to curiosity and not because you saw one of Kate’s Instagram posts and immediately ran to check if she likes girls too. (Somehow the jury is still out according to most news outlets but her list of rumors is almost as long as your own)

She’s genuinely speechless after that and you don’t dare give her time to recover. You’re being an asshole, you’re aware of it, but there’s something about the way she looks at you that terrifies you. Something that tells you she already knows the secrets that lie unspoken in the depths of your mind.

And you hate it.

So you run.

You force your arm out of her grasp and walk away from her.

She doesn’t put up a fight this time, she merely watches you go with the distinct feeling deep in her gut that she messed up her one chance with you.

#kate bishop x stark!reader #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop fic #mini fic #kate bishop #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #hailee steinfeld #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #tony stark #pepper potts

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ggomos-maribat · 8 months

Text

6 | in which he orders a strawberry lemonade and peach iced tea

Part 6 of No Mr. Wayne You Can't Adopt Me! | Masterlist

Marinette was reminded that she somehow had the phone numbers of the Wayne family members when Damian called on a Sunday morning. Rubbing sleep away from her eyes, she answered with her summoned 'PA' voice. "Good morning, Damian. What can I do for you?"

She could feel the wave of hesitance from the other end of the line. "Marinette. I didn't want to call suddenly on a weekend but . . ."

"If there is something you need, I'll be happy to help."

"I'll make sure to pay you—any price, you just name it." Damian sounded a little nervous. Her curiosity merely grew upon hearing it.

"Firstly, I don't want you to think that my time is easily bought with money like I'm some automated assistant—"

"I'm sorry—"

"Secondly," she sighed, "You don't have to offer me payment every single time you ask a favor, okay? I'll be happy to help regardless of the monetary compensation."

"Yes . . . alright, I understand."

"Now, what's the problem?"

Damian coughed lightly. "It's about the oil painting piece I'm working on. I considered it a preposterous idea to ask my siblings since they don't know a lick of art to offer good constructive criticism. I have no intentions of asking Father and I don't want to disturb Pennyworth. I thought perhaps someone with a good eye for artistry can advise me.

"I've finished my painting but I think something is missing from it . . . or something is wrong. Unfortunately, I will barely have any time to remake another one so I plan to salvage this one with the help of your criticism."

Damian Wayne asking for criticism. Huh. Marinette's eyebrows raised. He continued before she could speak. "I will send you a picture shortly or if it's favorable for your schedule, you may come to the manor to get a look."

"Nope."

"Excuse me?"

She swung her legs at the edge of the bed and stretched. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to bring your painting to Gotham Park. Bring an easel if you can. And you're going to wait for me there and I'll tell you what I think. Got it?"

"But—"

"Okay, Damian?"

". . . Yes, okay."

***

Marinette couldn't help but skip along the path on her way to the park. Since it wasn't technically a work-related meetup, she had decided to wear a light summer dress matched with a coat, a beret, and a pair of boots. She wouldn't tell Damian, but she was flattered he chose to come to her for help. Proud even.

She kicked a pebble aside. That means I'll have to do my best then.

She suppressed a laugh seeing Damian sticking out like a gloomy sore thumb in the park. He was hunched over on a bench, with the easel and canvas in front of him but facing away from her.

"You look like a lost kitten." The comment drew a frown from his face.

"It's a simple critique," he said quietly, "Why do we have to be at the park for it?"

"You dare question my methods, Monsieur?" She puts a hand on her chest in mock offense. "Now let's see it."

He turned the easel around.

The image was easy to put together: it was a painting of Titus, curled up in a nap near a window which traced a path of light that illuminated him like a spotlight. The striking point was the overall style of the artwork—visible strokes of warm and cool colors, swirling lines as the texture of the window frame wood, and Damian's signature cleverly disguised into the rough carpeted floor. It was easily a magnificent piece, one that transported Marinette to that same spot in the manor and basked her in the same warmth.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Damian looking back and forth between her and the painting. She could feel his uneasiness, having felt uncertainties about her craft as well, like when a thread became annoyingly loose or a design wasn't quite satisfactory.

"You're right." She tapped on her chin. "It's awful."

He stared at her.

"The choice of the colors are so contrasting that they just end up looking muddy when combined." She pointed to a part of the canvas. "And those proportions on Titus are just unrealistic, the painting focuses too much on the two subjects: the dog and the window, that they outshine the details of the surroundings, and overall? It's boring. No emotion invoked at all. You said there's no time to redo it but you're honestly better off painting a new piece even if it ends up unfinished."

Marinette wished she could take a picture of Damian's unhinged jaw.

"That's not . . . it's not . . ." He looked at his work again. "The colors are meant to contrast and I made sure their combination isn't desaturated. Titus' proportions aren't an issue because the shadows and negative spaces fill in the missing shapes, the subjects are meant to stand out but the details are also exaggerated, and it's not boring—it is meant to appear subtle and simple."

He turned to her, scowling. "You of all people should also know that art doesn't necessarily invoke emotion, rather it is more important that the artist communicates their personal meaning and the audience finds their own interpretation—"

He stopped suddenly and took a good look at her smiling face. At last, the boy catches on, Marinette thought.

"Oh," he mumbled. "I see now."

She nodded. "I brought you out here because I guessed it's much better to look at it under natural light. No offense, but the manor barely gets any of that, especially if you're looking at it inside your room."

Damian touched the edge of the easel, as if connecting once more with his creation.

She inched closer to the painting, bending down a little to examine the finest details he added. "You said you felt something was missing but I think it's as complete as it could be. It's beautiful, Damian, really. I'm happy you let me look at it."

Pink. His ears are pink. Marinette fought off another smile.

"Thank you." Damian looked away. "I've been wondering for a long time what to do with it."

"Are you going to ask for it to be put in the manor gallery?"

"If Pennyworth approves, yes. After the exhibit."

Marinette pouted. "What do you mean 'if Alfred approves'? Of course he will! If not, I'll buy this painting myself!"

His eyebrows raised. "You must know Pennyworth has some criteria for the manor gallery. Mar'i's drawing has only been put on the refrigerator door."

She laughed at that, imagining the scenario play out between the girl and the butler. She let her joy subside when she noticed Damian glancing at a building next to the park. Following his gaze, she spotted a newly-opened store that sold bubble waffles and drinks.

"If you do not like monetary compensation," Damian began, "Perhaps a drink will be more favorable? I heard that the place is in its soft opening."

A smile slowly formed on her lips. "Damian Wayne, are you asking me out on a date?"

"It's not a date!" He hastily denied. "It's a repayment."

"Mmhmm, sure why not? It's getting hot anyways." She sat down on the bench, crossing one leg over another.

He told her to wait there before jogging towards the store. Marinette took more time to admire the painting. Based on Bruce's stories, a younger Damian wouldn't be the type to gently ask for critique, nor one to make sure he did a favor in return. There was even a chance that if she ever recounted the day to her boss, Bruce wouldn't believe any of it.

But if Damian's being all soft and gentlemanly, I've no problem with it, she mused. Minutes later, she got a message from him: a semi-blurred picture of the shop's menu. She aimlessly chose her order and waited some more. He returned not long after with two bright-colored drinks.

"Are you sure this isn't a date?" She asked again.

"A date would require at least one of us to harbor romantic feelings for the other," he told her. "Therefore, it is not a date."

Well no, a date can be a prelude to any romantic feelings, she wanted to argue. But instead, she leaned towards him and smirked the cheekiest of her smirks. "How sure are you that I don't have any romantic feelings for you?"

He choked on his drink.

Marinette let him recover as he dabbed the corner of his mouth. "You have not given indication that you do." He avoided her eyes. "Also, you are legally not allowed to."

"Pfft, my contract with Mr. Wayne says 'thou shall not enter into a relationship with any of the Wayne children'." Her grin is stuck like glue to her face. "Not 'thou shall not flirt with Mr. Wayne's cute son.'"

"But—you . . . what . . . Why would you find me 'cute'?"

"I just do," she replied. "Why do you find Titus cute? Alfred the Cat?"

Damian started sputtering uncharacteristically, barely getting a coherent phrase out.

"Oh, you are just so fun to tease, Damian."

He scoffed loudly, then sipped more of his lemonade. "I'm glad I provide entertainment to your bland life, Ms. Dupain-Cheng."

"Yeah, thanks for that!"

It seemed that he couldn't top her comebacks so he changed the subject. "Finish your drink quickly. I'll take you home."

"A ride home!" Marinette gasped. "This is a date!"

"It's common courtesy. Pennyworth will be disappointed with me if I don't make sure you get home safe."

***

That same night, Marinette was delighted to see that the weather stayed fair, and the sky cloudless. Instead of taking her motorbike, she opted to take a stroll to her favorite fabrics shop a few blocks away from her apartment. Luckily her patterns of choice were all available despite being hard to get.

Unluckily, she noticed shadows following her as she heavy-lifted three bolts down the street.

Marinette tugged down her cap. She was close—just a hair's breadth—to saying, 'It's a bit too late to be stalking your assistant on her way home, don't you think Mr. Wayne?'

But she held onto her tongue and stopped at a well-lit area to glare at the big furry following her. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Batman?" She huffed at him.

Batman coughed, shielding himself with the darkness. "I need to talk to you."

She peered at the bright colors hiding behind him, sporting curious gazes filled with both wonder and excitement. "If it’s only you who needs to talk to me, why is the entire flock here?"

Actually, the others didn't even bother to hide. Black Bat was hugging the lamppost, Spoiler bounced on her heels and Red Robin carried a professional camera. Heck, even Red Hood was there, even though Crime Alley was miles away from the area.

She could feel the exasperation radiating off him, a truly tired parent, as he turned around to give his children vigilante partners a Look™️. In a second, they all grappled upwards, perching on their respective ledges and balcony railings as if they were an eager audience to a performance. (Marinette didn't miss the way Robin glanced her way before he went away).

Marinette arched an eyebrow. "So?"

Batman coughed. That awkward cough Bruce also does. Seriously, how come the world doesn't know his identity yet? "I would like to apologize. For intruding the office and catching you off guard and . . . throwing my weapon at you."

She gave it a minute. Just full silence and a hard stare.

Just to make him squirm.

"Okay," she said slowly. "And why did you think it was a good idea to do this in an empty street at twelve am?"

"You shouldn't be out so late at night anyways."

"What was that?"

". . . Nothing."

Stifled laughter rang from above.

She frowned. "Did Mr. Wayne agree to this? Couldn't you have done this at, I don't know, back in the office where it's safer and less creepy?"

"Wayne said you don't have overtime anymore this month," Batman grumbled.

"What, like you can't drop by during the day? No don't tell me—" She paused. "You're allergic to sunlight!"

He shifted from one foot to another. "Hn. I am not."

"You're a vampire."

"No."

"Don't worry, I won't tell." If her sore arms weren't occupied at the moment, she would've made a zipping motion with her fingers. Seeing Bruce in the spotlight of embarrassment was enough to make up for the incident. "Look at the time, I need to go now."

"We can escort you—"

"No thanks," she declined sharply while walking away. "Don't follow me home or else I'll personally ask Mr. Wayne to put a restraining order on all of you."

Marinette stopped again, remembering something, and without missing a beat, plucked something out from her sweatpants pocket. She grinned. "You forgot this."

With a flick and whoosh, the Batarang sailed towards the vigilante and stuck atrociously to the ear of his cowl.

#maribat fic #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #dc x miraculous #NMWYCAM #PA!Marinette #daminette #maribat damian wayne #damian x marinette

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jflemings · 29 days

Text

— one shot

pairing: niamh charles x canadian!reader / part 1 here

synopsis: fate has brought you home

warnings: technically cheating, a lil bit of angst, the end is kind of lazy but whatever

♫ what’s queued masterlist

flashbacks in italics

think I got the blues from you but I don't know

I just can't see why you keep holding on

every time you call me, girl, there's something wrong

three weeks. you had been radio silent for three whole weeks before you called niamh drunk off your ass and babbling.

she had thrown herself completely into training as a way to distract herself from your absence, trying to avoid thinking about you for too long. jessie had cornered her roommate and best friend one afternoon after niamh had all but stormed into the change rooms after training, throwing around her bag carelessly and loudly before sitting down with her head in her hands.

she had been worried sick about you and that worry only amplified when she picked up the phone to you crying on the other end.

“we fought and he, he, got up and stormed out of the bar” you sob into the phone, words slurred from both the alcohol and the crying “please niamh”

she shoots up in bed, already sliding out from under her covers and looking for her keys “i’m coming, okay? i’m on my way. send me your location and i’ll come get you”

“o-okay” you hiccup “i’ll be waiting outside”

“ask for some water, i’ll be there soon”

“thanks niamhy”

just give me one shot

with all my speed, I'll give you one heart

so bet on me, I'll play my cards right

you stumble into niamh and jessie’s place, your attempt at being quiet failing miserably as your knee collides with the wall. niamh cringes but keeps her hands planted on your hips, guiding you straight into her room.

she sits you on the end of her bed whilst she pulls out clothes for you to sleep in, sparing an innocent glance at you every so often. the sound of rain against niamh’s bedroom window is almost enough to send you to sleep whilst you’re sitting up but you blink yourself awake and lean back on your hands, squinting at the defender’s figure in the low light of her bedroom.

“niamhy” you whisper “can i tell you something”

niamh stands up and throws the clothes on the bed next to you before outstretching her hands “anything” she replies just as quietly.

you take her hands and stand before she begins to unbutton your jeans, allowing you to hold her shoulders to steady yourself “we argued about you tonight”

“me?” she asks shocked, pulling your jeans down your legs as swiftly as she can “why me?”

“because i couldn’t tell him that i don’t have feelings for you”

niamh is shocked into silence. if you had asked her before everything went to shit how you felt about her she would’ve been able to give you an answer no problem, but with this new guy in your life and everything surrounding your relationship getting mixed up, she had begun to think differently.

she decides not to answer you and instead holds out the pyjama shorts she grabbed, allowing you to step into them without much hassle. she snaps the waistband against your skin and holds the hem of the crop top you’re wearing.

“i’m gonna take this off, okay? just so you can wear this sleep shirt” she assures you, wanting to be clear about her intentions.

you nod uselessly and lift your arms, your eyes still half lidded and dazed “sorry” you mumble almost directly in her ear.

“what for?” she asks confused, her cold fingertips brushing your ribcage “you’ve got nothing to be sorry for”

“i treat you like shit”

“you don’t treat me like shit”

you huff frustratedly just as niamh gets your top over your head, fully exposing you to her. she focuses on pulling her shirt over your head rather than what you just said, wanting nothing more than to leave this conversation for when you’ve got a clear head.

“you think me coming over here to fuck you and then not speaking to you for weeks isn’t treating you like shit?” you ask her accusingly, your voice muffled by the shirt “you don’t even call me out on it niamh”

the defender pulls the shirt fully on and kicks your discarded clothes into a corner of her room along with your shoes. she really doesn’t want to do this with you right now but you don’t seem to get the hint as she walks to the other side of her bed.

“niamh!” you exclaim louder than intended “call me out on it!”

“will you pack it in, jessie is asleep” she whispers harshly through gritted teeth “you want me to call you out on it? fine! yes, you treat me like shit. yes, i let you do it. yes, everybody fucking knows i let you do it but what else am i supposed to do?”

“stop letting me!”

“why don’t you just stop doing it?” her voice is just above a whisper and despite how tall she stands, she looks so small in the dim light of her bedroom “just give me one chance! that’s all i’m asking for”

tears well in your eyes as your arms fall by your side helplessly. every part of you wanted to give in, wanted to tell her that you’ve given her chance after chance but you know that’s not true. you had been stringing her along and not being honest with her for the sake of yourself, for the sake of never confronting your feelings and the wrong you had been doing.

you sigh “just give me a bit of time” you plead “just so i can end it with him and have it be completely done”

niamh rubs her brow bone tiredly, fatigue plaguing her features “i’m not waiting around forever”

“and i won’t make you. please, i just want to do this the right way” you beg her, dropping one knee on the edge of her bed heavily. you sway slightly and you plant your right hand on the plush comforter to steady yourself as you try your hardest to at least look sober.

she cracks a slight sad smile at you as she plays with the hem of her own shirt, her brows furrowed in thought “okay.”

I think he knew about me all along

“where’d you go the other night? to niamh’s?”

he shoulders past you and lets himself into your flat, his tone accusing and blunt as he loudly tosses his keys. your shoulders drop as you shut the door and you turn to face him with your arms folded over your chest.

“she’s my best friend” you scoff “and it’s not like i could come back here after you made a scene in the pub”

“so what, you leave me to come back to your place while you go and fuck your best friend? c’mon, y/n, how is that fair?” he exclaims, the rasp in his voice only amplifying his accusation

“i didn’t sleep with niamh!”

“maybe not that night but i know there have been other times!” he shouts at you “you can’t even deny it! i saw those hickeys!”

you run your hands from the top of your head to the base of your skull, slightly pulling at the roots frustratedly while you try to hold it together “we weren’t exclusive”

“maybe not in your eyes, but i’ve been serious about you the whole time” he grits out, slumping down into one of your bar stools “you can’t even show me the same respect”

“i was very clear with you about how i wasn’t looking for anything serious. if you saw something different even after i said it to you multiple times then that’s on you” you say bitterly whilst walking past him and to your couch. part of you felt like it wasn’t fair to react the way you were but what you were saying was true: you had been extremely honest with him about what you were looking for.

there’s a beat of silence before the bar stool creaks ever so slightly as he shifts his weight. you keep your back to him and flick through every streaming service you have, almost praying that he just up and walks out of your place without more arguing.

he rubs his hand over his face “be honest with me” he sighs out, causing you to turn to him “i was never gonna be able to compete with her, was i?”

“no one can” you mumble almost immediately, your eyes beginning to sting “i wanted to try, really i did, but she’s just—”

“she’s niamh”

it’s your turn to sigh “yeah”

I bet it hits you when you breathe it in

I bet he wonders where the hell you've been

I bet you told 'em we were nothin'

“she’s my best friend!” you almost shout “there’s nothing going on”

“you two have slept together, y/n!”

“once. we’ve slept together once.”

he rounds your bed picking up his clothes carelessly, throwing on his shirt and grumbling as he goes “once my ass” he accuses, throwing his arms out “you run back and forth between us like there’s no issue! i can’t believe i’m letting you make a fool out of me”

“there’s nothing going on!” you shout, throwing your covers off you as you stand hastily “niamh and i are best friends and we have been for years! you wouldn’t be reacting like this if i was hanging out with alanna”

“oh, so you’re fucking alanna too?!”

“i’m not sleeping with either of them!”

the silence that suddenly over takes the room is deafening. the tense discussion had quickly turned into a full blown argument with you being on the receiving end of accusations. it’s not like he was wrong exactly, but you haven’t seen niamh in weeks with all your time being taken up with training, games and the man standing at the end of your bed. it wasn’t fair for him to say for a number of reasons — as you had relentlessly tried to argue — but he wasn’t having a bar of it, his mind had been made up about niamh for weeks now.

it started with a hesitant question about where you’d run off to after a night out, followed by a smart ass comment about your best friend, which had then lead the two of you here arguing after spending what you would call a lovely night together.

you feel as though all air has left your lungs, deflating them rapidly and crushing your chest from the inside “there’s nothing going on between me and her” you mumble into the quiet

he sighs deeply and sits on the end of your bed, broad back facing towards you “i’m sorry” he mumbles back to you “i shouldn’t have yelled like that”

“it’s okay” you assure him before sitting down next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder “she’s my best friend though and she’s not going anywhere”

he turns and places his lips against your forehead “i know” he murmurs quietly, both regret and disappointment present in his voice “all i ask for is honesty”

your stomach churns and you screw your eyes shut. honesty. right.

“i know”

when you say you love me like that

you ain't gotta hold back

It'll just take a second

to believe in us, to believe in love

as soon as you had broken up with him you had cried by yourself in your living room, the weight of the situation and your actions suddenly crashing down on you. no one would come before niamh, you have known that for a while now, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t try to see other people. there had been other men and women before now, every single one of them ending too soon because your heart just wasn’t fully in it, your head always being too distracted with thoughts of niamhniamhniamh.

you’d cried and then picked yourself up and gotten in the shower, preparing for a quiet night in alone. what you didn’t expect was niamh to turn up on your doorstep with your favourite takeaway and a soft smile.

“what are you doing here” you rasp, stepping aside to let her into your home.

she shrugs “thought you could use some company” she says quietly, placing the plastic bag down on your counter and pulling out cutlery and plates “you stopped responding to my texts so i thought i’d check on you”

her blue eyes shine in the low light of your kitchen, the worry that was present before beginning to fade once she really takes a look at you “thanks niamhy” you say to her before moving to sit on a bar stool.

niamh begins to plate up your shared dinner, mindlessly humming along to the theme tune of the show you’ve been binging. she moves through your kitchen freely and comfortably like she lives here, and you realise you’ve never been more grateful to live somewhere that’s still close enough for you to see her like this.

“i love you” you blurt out without thinking, the words simply escaping you.

she turns around shocked, her jaw slightly dropped as she tries to figure out exactly what you mean by that. her lack of reply has you reeling and suddenly feeling insecure, like maybe you’re moving too fast. she’s here for you as a friend. not a girlfriend.

“uhm, wait no i—”

“don’t take it back” she interrupts, her expression going from shock to worry rapidly “please. don’t take it back”

under the weight of her intense stare you feel small “okay” you say quietly, your cheeks heating up and making you dizzy.

“i love you too” she says back just as quietly, her voice firm and sure. niamh leans over the counter and takes your hands in hers, kissing your knuckles carefully “so much. i love you so much”

the soft nature of her actions and her words bring tears to your eyes again, relief crashing over your heart in waves. you’d spent so long searching for her in other people that you almost can’t believe where you’ve ended up, the crushing feeling that had once weighed you down so heavily finally being lifted off you by her hands.

a stray tear falls down your face and she’s quick to wipe it away with her thumb, smiling softly at you again “c’mon, let’s eat”

you nod simply and stand, grabbing your dinner and leading her to your couch where you sit thigh to thigh, picking food off of eachother’s plates and giggling at the characters on your tv.

niamh throws her head back laughing loudly at whatever she thinks is funny, her eyes screwing shut and her hand coming down to slap her thigh repeatedly as she catches her breath. you love seeing her like this, like you always have. in every way that she’s tough and determined she’s just as soft and gentle, and you can’t help but feel like you’re falling in love for the first time all over again, with the same person.

no more dreamin'

give me one shot

when you awake the next morning clothed and in niamh’s arms you can’t help but smile. her soft snores fill your ears as she snuggles further into your shoulder, her arms tightening around your waist in her sleep.

you manage to roll over in her hold and face her, the defender’s loving aura somehow only amplified as she sleeps peacefully. you trace the lines of her face delicately, running your pointer finger over her jaw, chin, lips and nose before holding her cheek. as her eyes begin to flutter open the pad of your thumb soflty caresses her cheekbone.

“morning” niamh mumbles, her voice thick from sleep “you alright?”

“mhm” you hum back, admiring how blue her eyes look in the morning light. your hand moves from her cheek to down her neck before you wrap your arm around her neck, pulling her impossibly closer to you.

her arms tighten around you as her face finds the crook of your neck. she presses her lips to your neck lightly, trailing kisses up the column of your throat lazily “let’s just lay around” she says against your neck “i don’t wanna move”

you can’t help but giggle as she rolls the two of you over so you’re now fully laying on her front. your heart flutters in your chest at the domestic nature of waking up in niamh’s arms, the warm feeling spreading through you freely once you notice that she’s slowly begun to go back to sleep.

despite how the two of you got here, it’s in this moment that you know there’s truely no one else for you except your niamhy.

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