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novankenn · 4 months

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Holding Back

Chapter Three (1/4)

/== Chapter List ===/

“Combatants, are you ready?” Glynda called out.

“Yes.” Cardin and Jaune replied.

“This match will continue until one of you is rendered unconscious, OR I declare the match over. Understood?”

“Yes.” They both replied again.

“Then… begin!”

“Time for a dirt nap, Jauney-boy!” Cardin yelled out as he charged forward, his mace chambered for a two-handed swing.

Jaune charged forward in response, his eyes sharp and focused. His mind was running through options, planning out attacks and counters. Lining up his plan, and it would begin in just a couple seconds.

“Good night Jauney!” Cardin cackled as he swung, aiming his massive weapon for the center of Jaune’s body. The malicious grin on his face, vanished when Jaune threw himself backwards, almost bending his body in half, avoiding Cardin’s attack.

Cardin staggered back, almost loosing his grip on Executioner, when Jaune’s heel slammed into the underside of his chin. Before he could register the movement, pain blossomed upside of his head, and then his chest, before once again suffering another stiff hit to the jaw.

Cardin and Jaune’s peers watched in silence. Jaune had avoided Cardin’s attack and countered but driving his heel up into his jaw, and before Cardin could recover, Jaune had completed a handspring back to his feet and was suddenly in the air. One foot caught Cardin upside the head, the other was driven into his chest plate and used as a pivot for Jaune to bring his other foot around and driving his heel into the side of Cardin’s jaw.

Jaune once again used his hands to vault back into the air, landing a short distance away. He snarled before rushing forward, towards his stunned target. Cardin felt loopy, but he was by far not out of this fight yet. Growling, he thrust his weapon forward and ignited the dust crystal contained in the head.

“JAUNE!” Pyrrha screamed as the explosive release of the fire dust crystal caught Jaune in mid-charge. Yang had to grab Pyrrha to keep her from rushing to the ring as Jaune’s body rolled through the dirt. “Let me go!”

“Pyrrha you can’t!”

“He’s getting hurt!”

“If you interfere, he loses, and Cardin wins.”

“But…”

“Ready to give it up, Arc?” Cardin snapped as he made a move to replace the expended crystal, while eyeing the slowly rising form of his opponent.

“You wish.” Jaune snarled, before racing forward, catching Cardin flatfooted. Cardin fumbled the crystal, dropping it to the floor when he tried to rush slotting it in, as Jaune closed. Ignoring the dropped hunk of dust, Cardin moved to intercept Jaune with just his mace.

“What the?” Cardin and everyone were stunned as Jaune jumped forward at Cardin, grabbed hold of the haft of Executioner, before shoving off and sailing high into the air. Cardin whipped around, expecting Jaune to be standing behind him. “What the?”

“Cardin above you!” Russel yelled.

Cardin with a puzzled look on his face turned his attention up and was stunned. Jaune was perched against the wall, high above the sparing ring. The cracking of stone echoed about the massive room, as Jaune was once again airborne. Cardin brought his weapon up in an attempt to defend, but was too slow in his reaction. Jaune caught Cardin’s head between his thighs, his momentum and weight taking the armored young man off his feet.

The other students, in fact even Professor Goodwitch winced at the sound of Cardin’s head impacting the floor. Jaune rolled with his momentum and flipped back to his feet. Cardin rolled to his side, and slowly got to his knees. Jaune just watched and waited.

“I’m calling this spar…”

“NO!” Cardin snapped, cutting off professor Goodwitch, as he rose to his feet. “I’m not done yet!”

“You are in no… Mr Arc!”

Jaune was moving before anyone could stop him. Cardin proving that he was as tough as a brick building steadied himself and moved forward throwing a wild haymaker. Jaune rolled around it, dropping low to the floor. The sound of cracking stone resounded around the room, as Jaune’s feet rocketed up and into Cardin’s exposed jaw. They alternated striking for about three hits each, before Jaune hooked Cardin’s neck between crossed feet.

“This spar is OVER!” Glynda yelled as Jaune pushed off the floor, and twisted his body to haul Cardin off his feet and send him careening across the floor. “ENOUGH!”

Silence reigned as Professor Goodwitch rushed past Jaune to check on Cardin. Jaune just stood there, waiting and ready to react. Glynda pulled out her scroll and made a call, before giving Jaune a very hard glare.

“Mr Arc to my office NOW! Everyone else who is NOT team CRDL you are excused!”

As the students began to file out of the class, Pyrrha pulled away and made her way towards Jaune. She ignored the looks the Professor was giving her, and those of CRDL, though she did hope Cardin wasn’t seriously injured. She stopped next to Jaune and helped him unbind his hands.

“Pyrrha?”

“I’m your partner. I’m not leaving your side.”

/=====/ A/N There are still three more parts for Chapter 3 to be complete... but I've been meaning to get the fight written since forever... so here it is...

If there is anything I can do to make it better... feel free to let me know.

#holding back #rwby #shadow skill - anime #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #yang xiao long #saphron cotta arc #jaune's got skills

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wayward-dreamer · 2 years

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Reluctant Renegade - Chapter 8

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word count: 3,900

Summary: After the night that saw his transformation into a vampire, resulting in the death of his wife, Dean spends his lifetime seeking revenge on the one that turned him. Reluctantly living outside the law because of what he is, he finds his niche as a bounty hunter, hired by families looking for someone, anyone to avenge the deaths of their loved ones. He doesn’t play by the rules, finding justice for the victims by any means necessary.

But as dead bodies rack up and catch the attention of a young, naive but by-the-book detective, she won’t stop until she finds out who’s responsible for them. Dean knows he has to convince her of his innocence, but can he do that while maintaining his secret? And when the alpha that sired him finds him first, can he keep Y/N safe?

Warnings: Angst, swearing, blood, fighting, a little more angst, a little bit of fluff.

A/N: Inspired by the song Blood Like Lemonade by Morcheeba. Beta’d by my love @evergreencowboy. Well, here it is! The last chapter. Can’t wait to hear what you all think. Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Series Masterlist | Series is complete on Patreon!

The numbness in Dean’s legs was fading rapidly, as feeling finally returned to his limbs. He rocked the chair back and forth, trying to gain momentum. Pushing up on the tips of his toes, he used the strength he had to throw himself back as hard as possible, the chair breaking under the pressure of his body. He quickly shifted under the ropes and pulled them off, pulling one of the knives out of his thigh, grunting at the pain as it slid out of his flesh. In swift motions, he dipped it into the jar of dead man’s blood and threw it, the blade lodging into the back of Miles’s shoulder. He growled as he fell to his knees, giving Benny the advantage.

“No!” Jenny screamed as she ran across the room towards Miles.

Dean stopped her by grabbing her throat, his eyes darkening as he glared at her. She slapped her hands against his arm as he lifted her off the ground, but he wouldn’t budge. He flung her across the room, pulling out the knife from his other thigh and moving as quickly as he could towards Benny. Pulling the blade from Miles’s back, Dean stabbed him with both knives, causing him to cry out in pain, the dead man’s blood infecting his veins. Dean took the machete from Benny, swinging hard and slicing through Miles’s neck, his head rolling onto the floor as his body fell forward.

Looking back at Conrad, the man smirked at Dean, almost taunting him. His eyes quickly flashed to Y/N, seeing her settle, her body creepily still as she remained hunched over. Conrad slinked across to her, placing his hands under her arms and dragging up, cradling her against his body.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” he whispered in her ear, but knew Dean would hear anyway.

He couldn’t kill Conrad yet, not until they had his blood for the cure. He wasn’t going to let Y/N live with this curse.

Jenny stumbled as she stood up from the floor, her eyesight landing on Miles’s body and head, separated from each other. She screamed, breathing heavily as her eyes turned towards Dean. Just as he moved towards Conrad, she tried to intercept him, but he was too quick for her. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and met Dean’s, a look passing between them as he gave her a firm nod. Y/N growled as she elbowed Conrad’s torso, hard enough to get out of his hold. She bent down as Benny slid the machete across the floor to her, just as Dean pushed Jenny closer to Y/N. Gripping the handle tight, Y/N swung the machete, meeting Dean’s green orbs once more as Jenny’s head fell onto the ground.

Benny rushed behind Conrad, pulling his arms back as he kicked the back of his knees, bringing him down to a kneeling position on the floor. He may have been older than both Benny and Dean, but the Southerner was putting all his strength into holding him down. Dean picked up an empty jar from the table and a clean knife, stalking towards them, swiping the blade across Conrad’s neck, the blood gushing into the jar.

Y/N stood back and watched, shaking her head as the confusion of everything that had happened got the better of her. She didn’t know what was happening, and she wanted nothing more than for everything to be over. Her head was pounding, her ears were ringing with all the noises that she could hear, and somehow, she could smell blood. Human blood. Her nostrils flared as she looked around the room, her eyes landing on the blood bag that Benny had brought for Dean.

“Y/N, no!” Benny roared, his eyes widening as he saw her moving towards the floor where the blood bag had fallen.

Dean turned, seeing what his friend had and acted fast. He gave Benny the jar and the knife, rushing towards Y/N and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her away. She growled, like the sound of a wild animal, thrashing against him.

“Y/N, stop, stop,” he reasoned, his lips close to her ear, “fight it, sweetheart, please…”

Conrad held his hand to the slash across his neck, looking paler than normal for a vampire as his body drained of his blood. With the last shred of strength he could muster, and pushed Benny out of the way, running towards Dean. He threw Dean down, grabbing him by the neck, pressing against his esophagus, just as Dean struggled to move his hands away.

Y/N looked towards them, her rage boiling to the surface as she took in what was happening. Picking up the machete closest to her, she moved towards Conrad, raising her arm and bringing it down, the blade slicing through Conrad’s neck, splatters of his blood hitting her face and Dean’s. He pushed Conrad’s body away, breathing heavily as he looked up at Y/N, her clothes completely stained crimson, along with her face and hands.

Dean stood up, his eyes scanning the room and the destruction left behind. A wave of emotions hit him quickly, as he saw Conrad, Miles and Leo lying in pieces on the ground. After centuries, it was over. He wouldn’t have to go chasing after them anymore or be on the run and afraid that they would find him. It was truly over.

He turned back to Y/N, ready to thank her for saving his life in that last moment, but jumped into action as he saw her picking up the blood bag. He snatched it out of her hand, throwing it across the room, not caring where it ended up. He grabbed onto her shoulders, making her look at him as she tried to get out of his hold.

“Y/N, listen to me,” he started, cupping her face, staring into her eyes. “You don’t need it, okay? You’re gonna be fine, I promise you.”

“But I-I do n-need it, you said you could die if you don’t drink it, so I-I need it,” she lamented, gripping his shoulders tight as she leaned into him.

“No, Y/N, you won’t. There’s a cure. You’re gonna be okay,” he stated, offering her a soft smile. “I’m not going to let you stay this way.”

“There’s… a cure?” she asked, confusion written all over her features.

“Yes, that’s why we needed Conrad’s blood,” he replied, his voice deep but soft as he spoke to her.

“If there’s a cure then… then you can take it, too,” she said, a pained smile across her face as she felt her stomach twisting.

Dean shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. If only it was that easy. “Uh, no, Y/N. It doesn’t work that way.”

“I-I don’t understand,” she sobbed, shaking against him. “Dean, my-my head feels like it’s gonna explode, my gums hurt…”

“We better move quick,” Benny said, closing the lid over the jar as he stood beside Dean.

“I’m getting you outta here, sweetheart,” Dean whispered, lifting Y/N into his arms, thankful that he had strength in his muscles again. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, much like she had to his when they arrived to get him out, his voice low and soft as he spoke to her. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I promise.”

“Shit, there’s blood bags in the car,” Benny muttered, looking between his best friend and the girl in his arms.

“She’ll be fine,” Dean countered, trying to remain optimistic. “I’ll hold onto her.”

With a nod of agreement between the friends, Dean made sure Y/N was secure in his arms, her own wrapped around his neck as he carried her out behind Benny.

Without a second glance back into the room, they left.

Benny opened the door to the apartment, letting Dean in first as he carried Y/N through to the stairs, taking them up to the bedroom. Benny shrugged his jacket off as he walked towards the kitchen, placing the jar of Conrad’s blood on the counter as he looked for the other ingredients for the cure. Finding the sage and garlic, he mixed it into the blood and made his way across the apartment, taking the stairs two at a time. He walked in and saw Dean helping Y/N towards the bathroom, sitting her down against the tub.

“Is it ready?” Dean asked, softly as he sat down next to Y/N and laid her head against his chest.

Benny gave him a firm nod and passed him the jar, stepping out of the bathroom. It was better to leave them alone to do this.

“Y/N?” Dean whispered, stroking his thumb lightly against her cheek.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, meeting his green ones as she sat up slightly. They stared at each other as he held the jar towards her, her fingers weakly wrapping around the glass.

“Apparently the trick is to drink it fast so that you can’t taste it,” he stated, glancing between her and the cure. “And it’s gonna come up pretty quick too, so…”

“Okay,” she muttered, nodding slowly.

She lifted the jar to her lips, squeezing her shut as she tipped her head back and poured the bitter substance down her throat. She gagged slightly, drinking it down as quickly as possible until she reached the last drop. She handed the jar to Dean, her eyebrows pulling into a frown as she didn’t feel anything. Suddenly, her stomach churned with bile as she felt her throat burn. She turned and leaned into the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach, the blood, garlic and sage coming up with it. She felt a soothing touch against her back, breathing heavily as she moved away, wiping her mouth.

“Fuck, that was disgusting,” she groaned, shaking her head.

All the noises from every part of the city were suddenly gone. The urge for human blood faded as she couldn’t hear hearts pumping from miles away. Her gums didn’t feel numb anymore. She pressed her fingers against her teeth, a huffed chuckle leaving her as relief settled in.

“How do you feel?” he asked, one hand cupping her cheek as he gazed deep into her eyes.

“I’m…” she started to speak but weakness washed over her as she leaned into him.

Dean lifted his hand to her forehead, sighing as he closed his eyes. “You’re burning up. Let’s get you to bed…”

Lifting her up, she washed her mouth and he helped her walk out of the bathroom. He took her coat off her after she struggled to push it off, giving her a clean shirt and sweats to wear.

“I’m just gonna clean up,” he said, gesturing to all the blood under his jacket.

She nodded, her eyes heavy as she watched him take out clean clothes for himself before walking into the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, as she heard the shower turn on. She bit her lip as she saw him shrug the jacket off, his chest covered in dried blood. He turned around, the muscles of his back flexing as he undressed. She closed her eyes as she felt a heat deep in her core, turning away as she realized she shouldn’t have been looking at him.

Pushing through her weakness as much as possible, she removed her clothes and boots, slipping into the shirt and pants that he had given her, pulling the covers over herself once she sat in bed. Just as she got comfortable, Benny walked in again with a glass of water and Tylenol.

“Here you go, cher,” he muttered, passing them to her.

“Thanks,” she whispered, taking two tablets and drinking them down with water.

Benny smiled as he stepped back out, leaving her alone with her thoughts. For a minute back there, she was a vampire. Her life could’ve changed forever if she had given into the sudden bloodlust, but Dean had saved her. He said he didn’t want her to stay that way, and she was incredibly thankful that he had done that for her.

She lifted her head as the bathroom door creaked, seeing him walk out dressed in black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair slightly damp from the shower.

“How ya feelin’?” he asked, softly.

She hummed, trying to smile but it faltered quickly as she looked up at him. “Ask me tomorrow.”

He sighed, cupping her cheek and stroking his thumb across her soft skin, feeling how warm it was. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”

Y/N shivered, and she wasn’t sure whether it was from his touch or the building fever, but she knew that either way, she was exhausted. Sleep sounded great. Shifting down, she pulled the covers over herself as she rolled onto her side, her back facing him.

Dean’s lips pulled up into a melancholic smile, reaching for the lamp and turning the light off before he walked across, leaving the door slightly open as he left the room. He walked down the stairs, a heavy yet relieved sigh escaping him as Benny handed him a tumbler with two fingers of whiskey inside, once he made his way to the bar.

“Thanks, man,” Dean muttered, looking up at him. “For everything. If you hadn’t decided to get involved, I’d be dead right now.”

“Don’t mention it, brother,” Benny stated, clinking his glass against Dean’s. “She gonna be alright?”

“Fever’s started,” Dean replied, taking a sip of the amber liquid. “Hopefully she’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Well…” Benny threw back the rest of his drink, placing the tumbler on the table, “I’m gonna go take care of that mess back at the warehouse, but call me if ya need anything.”

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, nodding slowly. “Thanks.”

Dean followed behind him to the door, rolling it back and locking it once Benny left. Turning around, he leaned his back against the door, staring up at the ceiling. From the time he stepped into the shower to now, his mind filled with all the possibilities of what could’ve happened back in that warehouse. He wasn’t sure how he thought so quickly about getting Conrad’s blood before they killed him, but if they hadn’t, then Y/N would’ve had no choice but to complete the transition. Or if she wanted him to, once given the choice, he would’ve had to make the difficult move to end her life. In any case, he felt like had chosen her fate for her, but she didn’t deserve to be something she wasn’t prepared to be. Something she had only learned existed a few weeks ago. Yes, he would’ve taught her everything he knew, taken care of her, but she deserved to make the decision of becoming a vampire on her own.

Dean’s thoughts turned from Y/N to himself, as he reflected on the past centuries of his life. He had spent so much time trying to remain hidden while also seeking out Conrad, that he hadn’t really taken in the different places he had lived. There were moments of peace scattered across the years, but it never lasted. For once, he finally felt like he could live his life. For once he didn’t have to keep running, unable to stop. He was finally able to breathe.

He was finally free.

Y/N’s fever broke two days later.

Dean had been watching over her, giving her medication and cold compress when needed, helping her to and from the bathroom until she started feeling well enough to do it on her own. She was so appreciative of everything he had done for her, and she had no idea how she would repay him. As she woke up on the third day in Dean’s apartment, she finally felt close to normal, knowing a shower would help with a full recovery. And proper food.

She sat up in bed, smiling as she saw a towel along with a black top and jeans, folded and kept at the other end of the mattress. She picked them up and slid out from under the covers, walking towards the bathroom. She turned the water on and waited for it to warm up, undressed and left Dean’s borrowed clothes on the floor next to the door, before she stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes as she felt the spray against her skin, relishing the warmth.

Once she was done, she brushed her teeth with the unopened brush and got dressed into the clothes that were left for her, frowning when she realized they were her own. She squeezed the water out of her hair and towel dried it, before making her way out. She walked down the stairs, the aromas from the kitchen reaching her senses, making her mouth water and her stomach rumble with hunger. She smiled as she saw Dean at the stove, stirring the scrambled eggs with one hand, flipping the bacon with the other. He no doubt felt her presence, his smirk greeting her as he turned around.

“Mornin’,” he said, turning the flames down before giving her his full attention. “How do you feel?”

She sighed as she sat on the high stool at the kitchen counter, smiling softly. “Really good, actually. Finally starting to feel normal.”

“Good,” he muttered, beaming at her. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” she chuckled, watching him put the food onto two plates.

“Figured I wouldn’t let you eat alone,” he stated, placing one plate in front of her. “I gave Charlie your apartment keys to get you some clothes, I hope that was okay.”

“Oh, totally. Thanks,” she said, taking a bite of the eggs.

“And uh… your phone’s kinda been blowing up, so you might wanna get to that soon,” he informed her, gesturing to her purse kept on the couch.

“Shit,” she hissed, rolling her eyes at herself for remaining in the oblivious bubble for the past several days.

He poured coffee into two mugs and handed one to her, sitting down next to her as they started eating. They fell into a comfortable silence, allowing her to dwell on everything that happened in the last few days. She thanked him as he cleaned up, meeting her on the couch after he was done.

“Y/N, I…” he started, taking a deep breath before he continued. “I’m sorry. It’s because of me you got involved in this whole mess, that you nearly became a damn vampire, that you could’ve died if Conrad decided to do that instead. And I know it should’ve been your choice, but I just couldn’t leave you to suffer with being like this.”

“Dean.” Her voice was low as she got his attention, her heart skipping a beat as his green eyes locked with hers, and he no doubt heard it. “You saved me. I need to thank you for that. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you, but I’m gonna try-”

“You don’t have to,” he admitted, interrupting her as he slipped his hand over hers. “You killed Conrad, Y/N. That’s more than I could ever ask for, even if I wanted to.”

“Dean-” she started but he stopped her again.

“Save it, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning closer to her. “I should be the one thanking you for that. It’s never easy, finding out about this. I’ve seen people handle it in different ways, and I gotta say you’re doing pretty great.”

She huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. “I have my moments. I woke up this morning and replayed killing Jenny and Conrad over and over again in my head. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he apologized again, his jaw clenching as he glanced at her. “To tell you the truth, I wish you hadn’t found out. At least your life wouldn’t be so drastically different now.”

“It may be different, but I know how to protect myself and others now,” she countered, nudging her shoulder into his. “That’s one of the best things to come out of this.”

“Well, at least me leaving town can help with you moving on,” he said, looking away from her.

Y/N frowned, her eyes roaming over his profile as his words hit her. “What?”

“Conrad and the others are taken care of. I told you I’d be leaving once that was done. This was always a part of the plan, Y/N. You know that,” he replied, his deep voice trembling slightly as he addressed her.

She recalled the night he first told her, when she had come over to the apartment for the first time and they talked everything out, when she found out how he was turned. She knew that was his intention, to leave town, but she supposed she didn’t think he’d still be planning to do that. Things were different now. Or at least she thought they were.

“Maybe… maybe you don’t have to,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers, his cold skin a complete contrast to her warmth. “They’re gone now. You don’t have to leave this place and people that care about you behind.”

“You’d never have a normal life again, Y/N,” he stated, looking deep into her eyes. “I’ve already caused you enough trouble at work. I can’t keep doing that.”

Dean stood up abruptly, pulling his hand away and walking a few steps away from her, unable to see the tears welling in her eyes. Y/N took out her phone, cursing inwardly as she saw all the notifications from friends, family and her boss across the screen. She knew he had a point, the evidence was right there on the screen, but she didn’t want to lose him either.

“I just found you… and now I have to let you go?” she asked, her voice breaking as she stepped closer to him. “How’s that fair?”

He let out a deep, forlorn sigh as he turned around. Seeing her so upset made him want to reconsider but he couldn’t. No matter what they were starting to feel for each other, it could never work. They both knew that. He lifted a hand and cupped her face, a sad smile pulling at his lips.

“It’s not forever,” he breathed, shaking his head.

Tearfully, she placed her hand on his chest, looking up at him. “Maybe it is. You’re the only one who knows what forever looks like.”

“I won’t let it be,” he whispered, bringing up his other hand to hold her other cheek.

Y/N pushed up on her tiptoes, meeting Dean halfway, their lips pressing together in a slow, but passionate kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck as his slipped down around her waist, pulling her close. They put every emotion they were feeling into the kiss, unsure of what would happen after this. In that moment, it didn’t matter. Y/N didn’t need to think about him leaving, and neither did he. They didn’t want to think about what the future held for either of them, whether she’d still have a job at the end of the week, where Dean would find himself once he left Seattle.

All they really cared about was being in each other’s embrace and holding onto the promise that this parting wasn’t forever.

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Forevers: @evergreencowboy // @makeadealwithdean // @writercole // @flamencodiva // @440mxs-wife // @sexyvixen7 // @foxyjwls007 // @maliburenee // @waynes-multiverse // @weepingwillowphoenix // @kyjey // @lunarmoon8 // @stoneyggirl2 // @hobby27 //

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Dean: @akshi8278 // @whatareyousearchingfordean // @candy-coated-misery0731 // @siospins2 // @deans-baby-momma // @globetrotter28 // @pink-sparkly-witch // @krazykelly // @lyarr24 // @perpetualabsurdity // @lessons-of-red // @xlynnbbyx //

#Reluctant Renegade #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Series #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Female!Reader Insert #Vampire!Dean #Detective!Reader #Dean Winchester Angst #Dean Winchester Series #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Supernatural Fanfiction

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simpforboys · 3 years

Text

boxer

she/her pronouns

summary: y/n is with vinnie every step of the way for his big night; the boxing match

warnings: anxiety, fluff, slight angst (?), swearing

beginning is inspired by emikmr!

“owwww.” vinnie whined.

“how are you about to go into a boxing ring and complain about your hair being braided?” y/n asked as she weaved her fingers through his blond hair.

“shut up.” vinnie whispered, a goofy grin on his face. he was in one of his favorite spots, not that he would ever say it out loud. letting his head rest in between his girlfriend's thighs always cheered him up.

his hands rubbed up and down her calves as he kissed her knee gently. “stop that tickles.” she whispered.

“tickles, hm? how are you wearing jeans and saying it tickles?” he retorted her previous question.

“you can't use my own words against me.” she playfully rolled her eyes, tying hair ties on the braids.

“i can do whatever, baby.” he grinned at her pressing more kisses to her knees.

“so handsome.” she complimented, watching as he began to stand up.

“thank you.” he kissed her cheek, grabbing her hand as the ref came over.

“i'm here to explain what's going to happen and rules.” he said. maria, nate, and reggie walked over to their son.

“you're gonna do great, baby. i am so so so proud of you no matter what, okay?” y/n told vinnie. she could sense his nerves as he practiced his hits and dodging.

“thank you. i'm just so- i don't even know. a walking ball of anxiety?” he dropped his hands as he sat down on the couch behind him in defeat.

y/n knew exactly how he was feeling, because she was feeling the exact same. not knowing what the out come is going to be, not knowing how bad he can get hurt; scared the shit out of her. but he didn't need to hear that right now.

y/n fought back her tears as she moved to sit on his lap. his arms immediately wrapped around her as she pushed his head up to look at her.

“i love you, vincent. so much. you have been training so hard for this and i know you've got this.” she comforted him.

“i'm so lucky to have you.” he pressed his lips against hers. she kissed him back gently, cherishing the moment.

“hacker, you're up.”

y/n walked with reggie to their seats, their passes bouncing as they walked. “i’m so fucking nervous.” y/n let out a breath.

“me too. but no matter what, he's gonna do good.”reggie agreed.

y/n nodded when the lights dimmed softly.

fousey grabbed the microphone, coughing slightly. “things are now about to heat up. representing team tik tok in the blue corner, vinnie hacker!”

the pain theme song rang throughout the stadium as vinnie walked. he radiated this powerful energy, it was amazing to see him go from nervous teenager to this badass man.

y/n cheered and clapped loudly, as was maria, both women proud of their boy.

fousey announced deji when vinnie got settled into the ring and y/n felt her stomach turn over. her heart was pounding and she suddenly felt sick. deji looked cool as fuck.

deji arrived to the ring and the ref reminded them of some ground rules. the bell rung to signal round 1 of 5 began.

the men immediately met in the middle, deji getting some good swings and hits on vinnie. the blond got backed into the ropes as he blocked himself from getting hit.

vinnie got a good hit on deji before he got backed into the corner. deji wrapped his arms around vinnie, blocking either of them from swinging. the ref broke them up.

“oh my god, he keeps getting stuck in the corner.” y/n pointed out. the entire stadium was filled with cheers and screams.

vinnie goes to swing but deji ducked.

“fuck!”y/n groaned.

they go at it again until vinnie accidentally fell into the ropes. he looked at deji like ‘wtf?’

“did deji push him?” maria asked.

“no, i think he fell into it.” reggie said.

as round 2 began vinnie started hitting more shots, getting more familiar with how deji hits. vinnie was back against the ropes as he went to swing, his arm got caught.

y/n grinned as the men touched gloves once more.

the bell rung signaling the round ended. y/n watched as vinnie walked back to his corner, listening to what his trainer was telling him. she noticed how he looked around though, almost like he was trying to find someone.

the couple locked eyes as y/n smiled proudly at him. holding up 2 thumbs, she mouthed, you can do it baby.

round 3 started and as vinnie approached deji, he kept backing up. deji fell to his knee as vinnie backed away.

“no way.” reggie tells y/n.

deji got an 8 count before the two met again in the middle. it was obvious deji was losing momentum as vinnie got him into a corner, hitting him before the ref separated them and gave deji another standing 8 count.

y/n was screaming at the top of her lungs now, watching as vinnie took control and brought deji back into a corner. vinnie kept going at it until the ref called it.

vinnie won.

maria, nate, reggie, and y/n jumped into a big group hug. “he fucking won!” maria yelled.

y/n was sobbing, tears of happiness and from her pent up anxiety. vinnie was smiling widely as he walked around the ring.

“i told you. i told you.” vinnie said to fousey.

maria and y/n wiped their tears as vinnie talked to deji. when fousey gathered the two fighters again, he announced vinnie as the winner.

y/n's mascara was probably running now. she was beyond proud of her boy as he walked back over to deji, comforting him.

her throat hurt as she continued screaming, feeling maria bring her into a hug.

vinnie finished up his interview, jumping down into the crowd. he walked over to his girlfriend, seeing her puffy eyes and running makeup.

“why are you crying, baby?” he asked with a laugh as he brought her into a tight embrace.

“i'm so fucking proud of you.” she whispered, her voice lost as she kissed him hard.

vinnie took more praise from his family and people as they began walking backstage. y/n was holding onto her boyfriend, letting him guide everyone. her ‘team hacker’ sweatshirt was probably sweaty from all the jumping she was doing.

when they finally got a moment alone, they hugged again tightly. “you did so good. holy shit my voice.”she said.

vinnie laughed. “i love you so much, baby. i couldn't have done that without you supporting me every step of the way.” he told her, kissing her once more.

with her voice practically gone she could only show her affection through touch. “i love you, vinnie.”

“shhh, save your throat from the pain. you were cheering that loud for me?” he grinned, peppering her face with kisses.

“i have to support my boy. i always will support you.” she told him. vinnie grinned, a sparkle in his eyes.

“thank you.”

“and yes, you will get victory sex. just let my throat recover for a little.”she joked.

“yes!” vinnie threw his hands up into the air making y/n laugh loudly.

#vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker #vincent hacker

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tryymebitch · 3 years

Text

For Your Love (Damiano David x Reader)

This is the first fic I've written in 100 years so please be nice! Just love the idea of playing with Måneskin, and sorry Thomas for bumping you to rhythm guitar:)

I've tagged a few blogs that I like and make great content around this band, sorry if I missed anyone, I just went off the top of my head:)

Warnings: none, that I can think of:)

Taglist: @daddydamiano @maybanksslut @bidet-and-legolas @midnightliv @mywritingonlyfans @victoria-de-angelis @lividisuigomiti @oro-e-diamanti @illicitfuck @icouldbeyourpuppet

Please be nice if its terrible:)

The first opening chords shook through the venue. You felt the strings vibrate under your fingers, with the same electric energy the crowd were living in.

“I wanna be the first man you look at tonight//I wanna be stuck in your head and make you go wild”

Damiano started the song grasping the mic stand with both hands, giving the slow start to the song it’s justice. The audience went crazy over the opening lyrics, instantly recognising the lyrics and belting along.

“I wanna drive you ’til the morning light and//I wanna leave you alone in the middle of the night”

The song struck a particular chord with you, remembering its conception. At the time, you were half asleep, head on Damiano’s shoulder in the back of a taxi, heading back to your shared apartment after a crazy night out with the band. He’d been drunk, murmuring the words in your ear to keep you awake. Now though, you were repeating the same two chords, waiting for the song to pick up momentum.

“I wanna be a good man and see you smile//And I wanna swim between your thighs”

Damiano was on the move, taking the mic from its stand and sauntering towards you, the crowd going crazy. He moved behind you while he sang, one arm draped over your shoulder, hand near your throat.

“I wanna fuck you ’til you scream and cry”

He pressed a hard kiss against the column of your neck, the crowd screaming along as they always did when Damiano got handsy on stage.

“I wanna hold you in my arms tonight”

He released you as he moved on to the chorus of the song, allowing you to get into the feel of the track and start playing the more complex notes. Your long hair was swinging around in front of you, half obscuring your view of your own guitar, as you let out a silent prayer of gratitude that you’d committed this particular song to muscle memory. Hands flying across the strings, you spared a glance around to the rest of the band. Ethan was just a blur of black hair and toned arms, Vic doing her signature stomping, Thomas covering you on rhythm, and Damiano doubled over as he cried the lyrics into the microphone.

With the slower second verse starting you allowed yourself a breather, to flip your hair off your face to cool down. You never quite had gotten used to just how hot playing a live gig was. Granted, a leather jacket and Doc Martens weren’t helping, but form over function, right?

“So baby why don’t you please me now//I’ve got so much I can give to you”

The pure energy your boyfriend was giving off was electric, how he could go from the emotion he put in ‘Coraline’, to the high energy party vibes of ‘L’altra Dimensione’ to the pure sex of this was beyond you.

The second chorus hit with just as much passion as the first, Vic and Thomas either side of you as you played in unison, a well oiled machine. Ethan continued his powerful assault on his drums, the bass almost felt like it was coming from within you own head, perfectly timed with Vic’s bass line. It was coming up on time for the bridge, and your pulse pounded.

The building guitar, alongside the drums was filling the large venue with adrenaline. You watched as Vic and Thomas moved off to flank Ethan, Vic with her foot up on his kit, head banging over his cymbals. Damiano, ever the showman, was in the front row of the audience, his bare chest glimmering with sweat as he danced along with the crowd. At one point, a fan threw a plastic crown onto the stage, only for him to scoop it up and jam it over his brown waves.

“So tell me what you want, I’ll give you what you want baby”

Ah yes, your favourite part of the song. The crowd knew your usual routine with Damiano, and while as a band you never wanted to choreograph your shows, this part always seemed to stick.

“Tell me what you want, I’ll give you what you want baby”

Damiano sauntered across the stage, eyes locked with yours as he gripped the microphone with both hands.

“Tell me what you want, I’ll give you what you want baby”

You daren’t look away from him, playing the lead on autopilot. He stopped inches away from your face, still locked onto you, plastic crown still in place.

“Tell me what you want, I’ll give you what you want”

On his last, extended note, he dropped to his knees right in front of you, belting into the mic as if his life depended on it. As your big solo started, you decided in the moment to take control, break tradition. Usually, Damiano fell to his knees and you followed suit, playing the solo right opposite him, however this time was different.

You planted a boot on his chest, just below his shoulder and pushed, leaving Damiano on the floor beneath you as you played. You almost wished you had a camera on you, the sight of Damiano on the ground, in nothing but tight leather pants, heeled boots and a crown was enough to make you weak, without the added factor of you being the one that put him there.

Doubled over as you played, you saw your hair brush against his face and chest, while he watched you in awe. Eventually, you let off of his chest to finish your solo, seeing him get back onto his knees from the corner of your eye.

“Because baby for your love, I’ll do whatever you want”

He finished the song kneeling, leaning over the edge of the stage while the crowd sang along with him. To be honest, you’d got so wrapped up in the song, and Damiano, that you’d almost forgotten that there were thousands of people watching your every move.

The end of the song brought thundering applause and screaming from the fans, the last song of the set. Best ’til last, you thought. After waiting for Ethan to get out from behind his drums, you gave a collective bow and made it off stage.

Before you knew it, you were wrapped in a hug from behind, bare, tattooed arms snaking around your waist and bringing your back to his chest.

“So fucking sexy, amore mio” He whispered in your ear. You grinned, loving that something you’d enjoyed to much had had the same effect on Damiano.

“Portami a casa?” You replied, only to have a kiss pressed against your temple as he took your hand.

“Of course, angelo.”

My love

Take me home?

Angel

#damiano david x reader #damiano david #maneskin #måneskin #victoria de angelis #vic de angelis #thomas raggi #ethan torchio #for your love #teatro d'ira #damiano fanfic #damiano fluff #damiano x reader #damiano david x you

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blonde-in-charge · 3 years

Text

Wildcard Chapter Two

Hello! Kat here! Anyways here is chapter two of Wildcard, I hope you guys like it. Please remember to like, repost, and comment if you enjoyed it! Please comment or message me if you would like to be apart of the taglist for this series, anyways enjoy!

Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.

Characters: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Random Hydra guy

Warnings: blood/violence and ass kicking, mentions of suicide, worried!bucky, maybe a lil bit of fluff, Bucky’s POV

Words: 2.6k

The elevator ride was silent on the way back to your floor. You were just so angry with yourself, you had no stamina when it came to your powers, even after training all day with Natasha and Tony. God forbid you joined in on missions, you would be killed on sight. You sighed loudly, your head was pounding. You checked your watch and realized it was past dinner time, fantastic. You couldn't wait to skip eating and go straight to bed. The elevator reached it destination and the doors slide open to reveal the floor you lived on to be completely dark and empty. You heard shuffling down the hallways and you had the urge to call out to Steve or Bucky. You remained silent and started to quietly make your way down the hallway. You heard shuffling and then felt a presence behind you. Before you knew what was happening, you had spun around to a looming figure over you and saw a glint of light in one of their hands. Knife.

“Hello Soldat.” The man grinned up at Bucky in the dark. Bucky remained deathly still upon hearing the name, “It is good to see you are alive.”

You heard the door to the stairway slam open and looked down the hall to see two more figures run towards you, Bucky, and the man. You squinted and saw Steve standing next to Natasha, both ready to hurl themselves into the fight. The lights switched on and you looked over to see the man had managed to stand up and move towards the window. He was covered in blood and gave you a sickening smile with his yellow teeth, “Hail Hydra.” Your heart dropped as you picked yourself up and watched him break the glass of the window and jump. You ran forward stopping at the edge of the glass to peer over. The man had fallen almost 35 stories and was now limp and bleeding out against the pavement below. Your mouth was hanging open in a silent scream as you felt someone tug you back from the window. You gripped at the metal arm holding your waist as they pulled you away towards your own room. You were half dragged half carried to your room and when your eyes laid upon it, it had been ransacked and torn apart. Before you could process the situation, Bucky turned around and headed towards his own room. He set you gently upon the bed and you studied the dents in the door from when he forced it open. Bucky did not make eye contact with you as he started arranging the pillows around you to try and make you comfortable.

“Bucky.” You said quietly as you watched him, waiting for him to look at you.

Bucky ignored you and continued his fret around the room, trying hard to clean and make it comfortable for you. He set up a singular pillow and blanket on the ground and you watched him, realizing he was going to let you stay in his room, “Buck, look at me.” He stopped for a moment before turning around and meeting your eye.

Your face was tinted pink from the fight and your eyes were set in dark circles. The braid your hair was in originally was coming undone from the middle, with pieces of hair standing up in every direction. The sweatshirt you wore was torn under your left arm, leaving a huge hole that exposed your ribs. His eyes trailed down and rested at your neck and you felt yourself immediately ghosting your hand over what felt to be a huge bruise covering your neck from the assault. You knew the bruise would fade quickly, so did Bucky, but that did not stop the worried look in his eyes. You wouldn't admit to him you were traumatized, you knew he was too. The place you thought would be safe was broken into by the same people who destroyed the light in you both. You searched Bucky’s face and then he turned around to rummage through his drawers. He pulled out a long sleeve burgundy shirt and handed it to you without saying a word. You took the shirt in your hands and looked up at him to thank him but he had already made his way to the door, presumably to talk to Steve about what just happened.

You stood up and pulled your ruined sweatshirt over your head before you threw it into the corner of Bucky’s room, along with the sports bra you were wearing. You pulled the soft shirt over your head and stuck your arms into the sleeve holes. You pushed down and kicked off the leggings you were wearing and settled for the pair of boyshorts you were wearing underneath before you crawled back into the nest Bucky created around you. You pulled the elastic band out of your hair and ran your fingers through the soft waves the braid had created. The door reopened to Bucky holding a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. You sighed almost forgetting about the throbbing behind your eyes. You nodded him thank you before popping open the bottle and pouring five little pills into your hand, ignoring the hard look the former soldier was giving you. You cupped your hand to your mouth letting the pills fall in before chasing them down with the glass of water in your other.

When the power went out, Bucky thought it was just another storm. He was staring up at the ceiling criticizing the way a storm could take out the power in the Avengers Tower, shouldn't there be a backup generator in this place? Bucky ignored the familiar click of the door as it locked him into his own room, a safety precaution he was well aware of. The silence overtook his room, all he could hear was his steady heart beat in his ears, until it wasn't. He could hear the faint sound of struggling outside of his door and he sat himself up to stare at the silver door. His heart beat grew louder in his ears as he pushed himself out of the bed and towards the door to press his ear against it. A loud thump against the wall caused him to flinch and jump back from the door. He ran his fingers through his hair, he couldn't leave this room, surely someone would come up and help whoever was being attacked, right? He racked his brain for answers as soon as he heard the running past his door. Who lived on this floor? Himself, Steve and-

The thumping in Bucky’s ears grew louder, he pressed his ear to the door and heard someone get thrown against the ground, and the sound of them gasping for air. He reeled back and slammed his body against the door over and over again, barely leaving a dent in the thick metal. He took a deep breath and tried wedging the fingers of his left hand into where the door was locked, and he grunted as the door fought him. He opened the door enough to get out, surely leaving a dent in the side of the door where his metal arm had crushed it. He ran towards the noises of struggle and rounded the corner to see you being held to the ground by your throat. Your eyes looked straight through Bucky’s and rage washed over him as he threw himself at the man to tackle him off of you. The sound of you inhaling your first breath was music to Bucky’s ears as he pulled himself up looking at the silhouette of a man against the window.

Bucky’s breath was ragged from the amount of anger that welled up inside of him. He could see the man grin at him before he said, “Hello Soldat,” Bucky’s breath stopped and he remained frozen in place as the man spit blood at him then continued to speak with a thick russian accent that was laced with venom, “It is good to see you are alive.”

The man in front of him glanced behind Bucky, and Bucky realized he didn't register the lights clicking on or the sound of Steve and Natasha's steps behind him. The man grinned wickedly with yellow teeth before making dead eye contact with you, “Hail Hydra.” Was the last thing he said before glass shattered and he was falling towards the ground below. You flew past Bucky to the window sending him into a panic that you would follow the man to the ground. Bucky leaped forward and grabbed you around your waist with his left arm and dragged you back. Steve watched you both with fear and anger swirling in his eyes, made eye contact with Bucky in a silent plea to calm their friend. Bucky turned his attention to you for the first time to see the look of absolut horror written all over your face, he could feel your body shaking against his. He didn't let himself think about it too much as he half dragged you to your room. Bucky saw the absolute chaos of the room before you did and turned around and headed in the direction of his own, praying you didn't see your room in the state it was in. That man wanted something from you or him, Bucky’s mind was reeling as he sat you on his bed, your tired eyes looking up at him. His anxiety was through the roof so he just started moving. He didn't want you leaving his side until it was safe for both of you, Bucky moved around his room picking up pillows and blankets to put near you.

“Bucky.”

He arranged the pillows behind you, careful to keep his distance while working. He turned around and scanned his room before setting up something for him to sleep on, on the ground.

“Buck, look at me.” Bucky stopped completely and slowly turned around to face you. His eyes scanned you up and down before resting on your own eyes. He could tell you were tired, he admired the brave face you were putting on, no doubt for him. His eyes glanced down to see the faded navy blue sweatshirt you wore so often was torn, he turned towards his dresser and pulled out his most comfortable long sleeve shirt. He knew you preferred long sleeves the same way he did, you both had something to hide, a piece of your past written on both of your arms. Bucky remained silent before walking out of the room to give you privacy and he walked straight into the living room where Steve was speaking in hushed tones to Natasha and Tony.

Steve looked up and regarded Bucky with concern, “How is she doing?”

“How the hell did he get into the tower?” Was the first thing Bucky had said in hours.

Tony’s jaw was clenched, “Friday was shut down for updating, it's a monthly thing that leaves our defenses down, I have no idea how he knew exactly when I was going to do it.” Bucky could tell Tony blamed himself, which made him feel slightly better.

“She doesn't feel safe here, and frankly, neither do I.” Bucky said quietly, although you never verbally said it, Bucky could tell by the way you were holding yourself.

Steve looked away from Bucky and nodded with understanding, “We will have a safe house set up for both of you in the next couple hours, it would be best that you leave while it's dark.”

“We are not splitting up.” Bucky said staring into Steves eyes

“Buck-” Steve started but Tony cut him off

Tony started “Look sunshine, it will be too easy to find you if you are both in the same place, Hydra could-”

“I don't care. We aren't splitting up, the last thing she needs is to be alone” He knew you could handle yourself alone he said it mostly for himself, he didn't want to be alone again.

Steve looked at him with knowing eyes, “Alright, fine. I will come get you when the safe house is ready, just go be there for her right now, okay?”

Bucky didn’t even respond to Steve; he just nodded and turned towards the kitchen. He filled a glass up with water and hunted down the bottle of pain relievers to bring to you. Bucky re-entered his own room, ignoring the gap between the center of his door and the wall from when he ripped it open. His eyes fell upon you wearing his shirt and snuggled into his bed when he handed you the items in his hands. You poured a handful of ibuprofen and Bucky gave you a look that said ‘really?’

He realized he hasn't said anything up until this point and then he cleared his throat watching you wash down the pills, “They are moving us into a safe house later tonight, Friday was breached when it- she was down for maintenance,” Bucky caught the flicker of worry in your eyes, “We will be in the safe house together.” He was content as some of the worry dissolved from your face, “For now you should get some rest…”

He started to sit himself on the ground and you reached out to grab his arm, “Will you stay up here with me?” He looked into your eyes at the silent begging which made him nod his head. He has never been this close to you before, he hasn't been this close to anyone since the war. His body was vibrating with anxiety as he climbed into the nest of pillows and blankets on the bed. You threw your legs over his and buried your face into his chest, then sighed into him with contentment. Bucky’s body was extremely tense until he felt you relax into his right side. He stared up at the ceiling and felt your chest rise and fall against the side of his body. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x avenger!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #marvel imagine

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newdruid · 2 years

Text

Pinned - Bucky x reader

A/N: howdy. It's been a while. Here's a piece that is quite literally nothing but sexual tension.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: a plot that has been written a million times before, but with no smut, no love confession. Just sexual tension and unspoken yearning.

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

Sam’s face hit the floor with a thud as you knocked his legs out from under him and held his arm behind his back. You heard Peter whoop from the side of the mats as you released Sam and helped him to his feet. Bucky gave a chuckle as he and Steve applauded your handiwork. Nat stood with them as she smirked. She had taught you that move, after all. Sam shook his head and gave you a fistbump, signifying there were no hard feelings.

“That was great Y/N!” Peter said, grinning and stepping onto the mats. He reached out his arm for a high five, but his eyes widened in fear when he saw your cheshire cat grin.

You quickly grabbed his wrist and placed your other hand near his shoulder. Using your forward momentum you ducked and flipped him over your shoulder. He landed flat on his back. Sam let out a huge laugh that caused him to double over and grab his knees. Steve and Bucky were also laughing and Nat was shaking her head with a grin.

“Don’t you know the rules Parker?” Sam questioned. “You step on the mat, you're in a match.”

“And Y/N takes that rule very seriously.” Added Steve as Peter peeled himself off the floor. “All right Buck, you’re up.” Bucky stepped up to the mats and got into position across from you.

“Steve, Buck’s an old man.” You taunted him. “This is hardly a fair fight.”

“Oh don’t worry, Doll,” Bucky replied. “I’m still young enough to take you.”

That comment made the tips of your ears grow warm. From the corner of your eye you saw Nat shake her head with a grin, you turned your head to glare at her then faced Bucky again. You had sparred with Bucky before, but something felt different this time. It felt like a grasshopper was bouncing off the inside of your stomach. You took a deep breath to regain your focus and take your stance across from Bucky. You saw him smirk from behind his hands.

As you began to circle each other Bucky lowered his hands from protecting his face and watched you move. It threw you off at first, but you soon realized it was merely a ploy to draw you into making the first move. Catching his bluff you decided to pull one of your own. You feigned lunging for a jab and then swept yourself under to take out his legs. You saw his eyes widen with surprise that you actually took him down. You backed off, allowing him time to get up. You could have pinned him then, but you weren't ready to be done yet.

"All right sweetheart, I'm not gonna go easy on you." Bucky declared once he'd gotten back to his feet.

"Really," Sam interjected from the sidelines. "Cuz it seems like she's was right about you bein' an old man." Bucky shot him a look but then went back to you.

He rushed you with a right hook but you ducked under him and pushed him from behind, using his own momentum against him. He stumbled but didn't fall, then turned to face you again. This time you attacked with a body shot, but Bucky was able to grab your arm and spin you around. He now had your back pressed to his front and both your arms crossed and restrained in front of you. The grasshopper was starting to bounce more frequently inside your stomach now.

Thinking quickly, you were able to swing your legs up and over Bucky's head, freeing your arms and putting your thighs around his neck. Bucky placed a hand on each of your thighs and the grasshopper turned into a swarm of grasshoppers, you could feel yourself getting warm. Sensing your distracted mind, Bucky was finally able to pull your legs off his shoulders and swung you down to the ground.

He pinned you effectively with his knee between your thighs and hands holding down your wrists. Your eyes were wide and your chest heaved with every breath. You caught Bucky glancing down at your low cut gym shirt as your ribcage rose and fell with every breath. He smirked and locked eyes with you.

"Told ya I was young enough to take you doll."

#bucky x reader #bucky imagine #marvel x reader #bucky barnes #fem!reader

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hellotvshowtrash · 3 years

Text

Dead Girl | B.B

Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: graphic violence including fist fighting, guns and knives, death, hella sad tbh

Word count: 2.1k

a/n: welcome to a semi part 2 of the fic no one asked for! While this is technically part two to My Girl, this can be read separately. There’s like... one reference to the first one and it’s fine. This fic is based on the song Dead Girl by Baby Snooks! Anyway, like/reblog/leave feedback if you enjoyed!!! Moodboard made my me!

Since you were kids, you, Steve and Bucky were inseparable. You didn't really have the choice with Steve, but, you enjoyed Bucky's presence. Steve watched as your feelings for Bucky progressed, from your first crush, to your first love, to your first kiss. Steve couldn't complain, he loved the idea of his best friend being his brother in law. Until the war broke out, you had talked heavily of marriage with Bucky. He kissed you goodbye the night before he left and you don't know if your heart had ever been more broken.

Maybe Bucky is the reason you followed Steve into the army, or maybe it was because you couldn't bear to let your twin go by himself. Project Rebirth wanted twins for the Super Soldier Serum, and they wanted to see how it affected women. You were the perfect guinea pigs.

After rescuing Bucky to subsequently lose him again when he fell from the train, all you had was Steve. You hadn't felt this sorrow since the death of your parents. Steve clutched onto you as you sobbed, his own tears falling onto the top of your head. "Til' the end of the line," rang in the back of your minds, and you vowed to always be by each other's side.

And that's how they found you, frozen and cold in the dark depths. By each other's side. 70 years is a long time to be frozen, but for you, no one else mattered but Steve. He was all you had left and, as you progressed into this new and advanced world, he was the only person you could truly count on. Even the Avengers, as they called themselves, were a rough group to melt into, to get along with. You tended to your own missions assigned by SHIELD. When it became clear the SHIELD was taken over by HYDRA, you and your twin brother were now fugitives.

You killed me on the inside

You pretty parasite

Ate me alive

From the inside

Everything came to a head that day when you and Steve were running from HYDRA. Natasha had stuck with you to clear out citizens, while Steve had tried to distract the notorious Winter Soldier by misdirecting him. Steve’s efforts proved fruitless. The assassin’s sights seemed to be set on you.

After rolling away and sprinting down the street, you and Nat were trying to clear the avenue of civilians. Bullets flew past you as the Winter Soldier marched in your direction, shooting after you. The two of you met up behind a car and crouched, devising a plan.

"You get as many civilians out of here as you can, I'll hold him off. He won't stop, so keep running," you instructed her. She tried to protest, but you stopped her before she could, "just do it."

You stood as Nat ran. You looked in the direction of the assassin heading toward you, his prey.

Crawling thru my veins

Preying on my pain

You began your stride toward him, running headfirst into battle just like you always did. This ghost of an assassin was relentless, and he seemed to only be after you. It was your duty to protect these people and give the Winter Soldier the fight he wanted. You pulled your handgun from its holster and fired off three shots aimed for the man's chest. You were confident in your aim, but he kept coming, seemingly unaffected by bullets, and for a moment, you second guessed your shots.

He lifted the automatic rifle in your direction and fired off a volley of shots at you. You rolled out of the way, crouching behind a car again. You breathed heavily, squeezing your eyes shut in concentration.

When the firing stopped, you stood again and ran full sprint toward him, lifting your own pistol to fire a shot in his direction again. You fired the shot as a distraction before reaching him and jumping up and spinning, wrapping your legs around his torso and neck in an effort to pin him down. You used your momentum to flip him onto the asphalt, landing crouched on your feet next to his head as his gun skidded across the rough ground. You moved quickly, straddling his chest and pinning his arms beneath your knees. You managed to land two blows to his face before his non-metal arm snaked its way up your waist and made you freeze. The action was so familiar, so ingrained. But there was no possible- you were shoved to the ground before your thoughts could come together in a coherent string of consciousness. The soldier had thrown you off of him as he stood and reached for his weapon. You scrambled to kick it away.

You let out a yell as the assassin stomped your leg under his boot. You snarled and pulled a dagger from its sheath on your waist, slashing at his leg from the ground. He stepped back to dodge your attack, giving you the opportunity to stand up and face your attacker. The Winter Soldier was more than a worthy opponent and you were starting to worry about your chances.

I was weak on the inside

Drowning in my pain

In the scuffle, the soldier's eyepiece flew off, exposing bright blue eyes encircled in black. Oceans you could swim in forever. No, that wasn’t right. He pulled a handgun loose from its holster, aiming squarely for your chest. You stepped to the left and ran behind another car, the shots following closely behind you as glass shattered around you. Your head pounded as you pressed your back to the cool metal of the car. The car jolted behind you as the Winter Soldier jumped on top of it, looking down at you before raising his weapon again to shoot. You twirled and kicked the handgun free from his hand before he could fire. He jumped down and in front of you, swinging a fist in your direction. You raised your arm to cover your face, effectively blocking his blow with your forearms. You pushed at him, giving you some space to dodge and attack. You shook your head and ran forward again, fists balled and dagger in hand as you jumped and raised the dagger, swiping downward to slash across his chest. He reached up and grabbed your wrist, stopping your attack and throwing you into the side of the car behind you. You groaned as you landed on the hard ground, holding your side. You heard his footsteps marching toward you and hoisted yourself up, sending a roundhouse kick to his jaw. He was unable to block your speed this time and he stumbled backward, the force of your kick knocking his face mask off. He stood away from you now, dirty brown hair falling into his face as he caught his breath. He turned to face you and you felt your heart stop.

There, standing three yards in front of you, was the love of your life. Apparently, not dead. Apparently, very much alive. Apparently, very intent on killing you.

“Bucky?” Your voice cracked as you whispered, too much distance between the two of you for him to hear.

Bucky glared at you as he breathed heavily before turning his body in your direction and sprinting at you ferociously. Your eyes widened and you darted out of the way as he raised his fist mid-sprint and plunged it downward, right into the hard asphalt ground where you were just standing.

Without thinking, you called out. “Bucky, it’s me.” A sob escaped your lips as you looked at him.

Ima dead girl,

Ima, ima dead girl

Ima dead girl

“Who the hell is Bucky?” His voice was smooth, just as you had remembered it. It reminded you of the bourbon he kept on the top shelf, the one that created a warm pit in the bottom of your stomach when you drank it with him. A harsh blow landed on your abdomen, sending you flying as you were lost in your thoughts. You landed against the car door, the back of your head snapping through the window. You felt the glass cut your scalp and blood drip down your neck and shoulders. You cried out in pain as you fell forward onto your hands and knees, your breathing labored and heavy. You swallowed harshly as you looked up at him marching toward you.

“Bucky,” your voice pleaded, “Buck, you know who I am, don’t do this,” you cried, still on your knees as if praying to a higher power that wasn’t listening. He reached you and hiis metal hand snatched a fistful of your hair and lifted you up to stand, his eyes not looking away from yours. For a moment, you thought you saw recognition in them, until his other fist landed itself on your stomach sending waves of pain rippling through your body. You realized there was no look in his eyes, only determination to complete his mission. Your breath left your lungs and your vision blurred as you doubled over and he let you fall to the ground. He tilted his head as he looked down at you, almost curiously. You had stopped fighting back and he wasn’t sure why, but it only made his job easier. You scrambled back and away from him, pulling a second dagger out of the holster on your thigh. He raised his eyebrows, almost amused at your futile attempt to defend yourself, until he felt the knife plunge its way into his thigh. You stood a yard away from the man when you threw it. You watched him pull out the dagger and throw it to the side as if it was nothing.

Ima,

Fuck it

"Fuck it," you thought bitterly as tears and blood streamed down your face. He was too strong. You knew he'd beat you, eventually. He came at you hard and intense, his fists throwing blows nonstop as you dodged and blocked him.

"Bucky!" You shouted, trying to get his attention. You pushed him away and backed up, putting some space between the two of you. Your mind was racing, but you only saw one way out of this. You began to lower your arms, slowly, no longer trying to fight back, only to defend. You looked him in the eyes as he advanced on you. Nothing in them gave the idea that he knew who you were, knew what you once meant to each other. That he once loved you more than anything. He'd never dream of harming you like he had today, and that's how you knew this was hopeless. You felt a trickle of blood run down your neck and onto your clavicle, the same place that Bucky’s lips once grazed and kissed.

How's it feel to see me out here choking, choking?

"Bucky, please, remember." You pleaded, holding your palms out to him. He marched forward, continuing his hunt. You squeezed your eyes shut as he reached you, his metal arm seizing your throat and lifting you off the ground. Your oxygen was cut off immediately as the machine beneath squeezed. He threw you down, making you slide across the rough pavement. You groaned and rolled, coughing and gasping. Before you could stand, he was over you, his feet on either side of your abdomen. He got to his knees and placed his metal fingers around your throat again, choking you.

"Bucky," a tear rolled down your cheek. There was no escaping this. "I forgive you, Bucky." You coughed and tried to continue without air, "I know you'll blame yourself when-," you tried to gasp for more air as your face started to feel hot, "when this all comes back to you, but don't," the tears were unstoppable now as his grip tightened. You clawed desperately at his arm, trying to pry it away.

"Stop talking," he growled. You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them again, your vision starting to pop and blur.

"I forgive you, Bucky," you choked out. You tried to gasp one more time but to no avail. There was no air left, and you couldn't take it anymore. Your hand fell limply from his and your eyes slowly closed, one last exhale leaving your lips. He held his hand there for a few more seconds, ensuring his mission was complete before standing up and marching away, leaving your body on the cement. He had one more mission to complete.

Stripped me of my soul and left me broken, broken

Steve had to be the one to tell Bucky what he did. Years later, when Bucky was finally in his right mind. Steve had to be the one to tell Bucky where the love of his life was, who, beyond all odds, survived the same 70 years that they did, only to be killed by the one person she truly loved. Steve had to be the one to cry to his best friend who murdered you, his twin. Steve, once again, lost one of the only people in the world who meant something to him.

—

Always Taglist: @elijahs-wife @dumble-daddy @soul-revoir @akshi8278 @nikmikaelsonswife @njeancastro316 lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist

#The Winter Soldier #The Winter Soldier imagine #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fic #the Winter Soldier Fic #angst #fic #my writing #i have been working on this for a solid 3 months pls bc nice #Bucky Barnes angst #im exhausted please ignore any spelling mistakes #I did my last edit while half asleep so #enjoy!!#marvel fic #I’m nervous about this LOL #so I’m going to sleep

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starker-fluff · 4 years

Text

Reboot: Part One

Peter opened his eyes, sighing as he stared across the horizon. As a child he had done everything he could to stop his parents getting on that damn plan but they didn’t listen. Remembers how much he screamed for them and he remembered how useless he felt when they left and their fates were sealed. He had moved on, hoping to save Uncle Ben now. Peter remembers how he actually got himself purposely but so he could protect his uncle. He tried so hard to save Uncle Ben but everything his tried was worthless as Peter still had to attend his funeral. Peter groaned, rubbing his face with anguish trying to get rid of those thoughts from his head. Getting to his feet he jumped off the roof, swinging his way back home.

Peter walked along the street to the rhythm of his music that was drumming in his ears. He stopped short when he saw a fancy car in his driveway, a smile brimming on his face as he took off sprinting to the elevator. Feverishly bouncing on his toes as he waited for the elevator to stop at his floor before he full on sprinted to his apartment door. He had to pretend. He had to keep his cool. Peter psyched himself up, bouncing around in a little circle before he turned up his music and casually walked into the home.

“Hey Aunt May! Oh you made cookies,” He snagged one, “By the way did you see that awesome car outsi-“ Peter’s got caught as he saw Tony staring up at him with that signature smile. He wasn’t even listening to his words anymore, all he could focus on was how alive Tony looked. He looked so healthy and so happy. God, how could he tell him his world about was about to fall apart.

“Peter?” Tony was standing, looking down at him. “Talk in private?” Peter quickly nodded and scuttled to his bedroom, shutting the door behind Tony. When he turned around he saw the images of himself as Spiderman flipping across the holoscreen projected from Tony’s watch.

“Before you say anything. Yes, it’s me. And yes I want to help you.” Peter confessed immediately to Mr Stark’s shock.

“How did you know I was going to ask you?” Tony looked impressed. The kid was really special.

“...Let’s just call it intuition.” Peter smiled. He could save Tony. He could do this. He could save himself the heart break of losing Tony.

—————Time Skippo—————

Peter pulled the shield from Steve’s arm as he landed on the truck, waving to everyone. He knew what was coming next but he couldn’t react before because then they would get suspicious. Just as Steve gave the command he prepared himself, dropping onto his back as the ant man guy did the same thing as last time. As everyone geared up he flipped off the truck, landing beside Tony. Peter felt the pull to hold his hand but couldn’t.. they weren’t like that yet. Then the running began.

Next time he had a minute to think he was chasing Bucky and Sam through the terminal. He was letting his muscle memory work, déjà vu clouding his mind as he realised he was repeating exactly the same words he had before. THE FLYING BOT. He heard the sound of the little bird bot and decided it was the perfect thing to quickly get outside.

“Mr Stark said you’d say that... and I say fuck you.” Peter seethed. He had hatred for Steve, everything that this man was about to do. Everything that this man did to Tony!! He left him in that place alone. He let him wither away and die. He belittled him and fuck! Peter was going to enjoy this! He let himself be pulled forward by the webbed up Steve but before the Captain could hit him the kid landed a powerful kick that sent Steve rolling across the floor. He sneered at the groaning Captian before he heard the struggles of Tony and Rhodey. Leaping up onto the terminal just as Ant-Man supersized.

“Ok. I got this.” Peter psyched himself up.

“Don’t panic. It’s just me!” Peter called out as he flung a web out onto Rhodey, using him to get up onto the big man’s face.

“Hey big guy. I think it’s time you took a nap.” He said as he landed directly on the guy’s eye. Jumping around for a bit before remembering what he had done.

“THE OLD STAR WARS MOVIE. Empire strikes back? You guys get the head! I’ve got the legs.” Peter quickly flipped off his face, using the momentum to help him wrap the giant’s legs up with his webbing. Around the ankles then around the thigh. The signal for the punch came through, jogging Peter’s mind. He quickly let go of the web he was holding, narrowly avoiding the giant hand that swung around. He skidded along the concrete, landing in a non-graceful roll but it was much better then last time. Hearing the sound of thrusters and an arm on his shoulder he new what was coming next.

“Kid. You’re done!” Tony said sternly just as one of the SHIELD planes took off overhead, speeding into the sky. Tony took off after it, Rhodey following suit and Sam hot on their heels. Peter felt his stomach drop as his heart sunk. He was up to his feet in a second screaming to not fire but Vision couldn’t hear him. The beam struck the chest of Rhodey’s suit and he was falling fast and out of control.

“NO!” Peter sprinted across the tarmac, heart beating in his ears.

“SOMEONE THROW ME.” A red glow wrapped around his body and then suddenly he was rocketting up, heading directly for Rhodey.

“MR STARK TURN OFF THE BABY MONITOR PROTOCOL!” Peter screamed. He needed access to those wings.

“What!?” Tony said in absolute confusion and anger and desperation.

“TURN IT OFF.” The next thing Peter heard was Karen then alerting him that the protocol had been removed. Opening his arms and legs the Webbing between his limbs and body fanned out allowing him to manoeuvre into a position directly above Rhodey.

“I got you. I won’t let this happen.” Peter said in a strangely calm voice, speaking mainly to himself. Once within range he flung a web out to Rhodey, connecting himself to the falling man, chest to chest by the line of web. He pulled himself down to Rhodey, doing his best to stabilise the both of them as he went but it wasn’t going too well. Peter received a kicked to the ribs and a slap in the head from the hunk of falling metal. He binded himself to the pummeting man before he deployed the parachute. Peter and Rhodey still crashed into the earth but nothing was broken... Rhodey was in one piece.

“Kid...” Was all Rhodey managed to say from where they sat in the heap on the ground. Peter pulled off the parachute and disintegrated the webs before moving away, standing to his feet to make room for Tony who dropped down and instantly checked on Rhodey who had sustained a few minor injuries. Peter felt the world spin as he felt a blooming pain come from his side... this was different. He flopped onto his back staring up at the sky that was slowly growing darker as his chest roared in pain. He felt someone lift his head up and call out his name but his head just hurt so much and his chest felt like it was going to explode. He could hear someone apologising before two repulsion blasts sounded as the world faded into a blackness. This was certainly a change.

—————Timey Wimey Stuff—————

Peter woke up with the blatant smell of sterilised everything clinging to every surface in the room. Sitting up he groaned, his head ringing as his side sung with pain. Checking under his shirt he found bandages around his chest.. God what did he do to himself. The sound of plane getting ready to go hit his ears like a freight train. MR STARK!! Peter ripped the IV out of his arm, grimacing at the sting of pain as he slid out the door. He rushed out of the hospital ward to see Mr Stark’s plane taking off.

“No no no no.” He knew what was about to happen. Peter couldn’t let this happen. As he stood there he saw SHIELD agents walking across the corridor. Taking a gamble he bolted up to the helipad above and thank god the SHEILD plane was there. He ran into the plane, frantically flipping switches as he tried to get the plane to start. Suddenly the plane launched into the air, sending Peter onto his back. Groaning with how stupid he is he ran to the controls before guiding the plane after Mr Stark.

“Hey Karen... am I doing this right?” Peter said nervously as he asked the voice in his mask. It hadn’t been removed due to them most likely wanting to preserve his idenity.

“Friday has given me his corordinates. Plug me into the plane peter and I can handle it from here.” Peter took off the mask, pulling a little cord out from the eye of the mask and plugging it into the plane.

“I’m.. I’m just gonna lay down.” Peter laid on the ground of the aircraft, holding his side with as he let himself drift off into a nap. Karen continues to follow Tony’s plane from a distance, by the time their much slower aircraft caught up to Tony he was just taking off from this big weird looking structure. Peter was now awake, siting in the cockpit watching the plane in the distance. He saw a flare fall out of the plane.

“Mr Stark seems to be going in two directions. Which would you like me to follow Peter..” Peter sighed.. of course it wasn’t a flare.

“The new course. That’s him in the suit...” Peter groveled in the seat of the plane. Why did he have to be going so slow! What if he was late? What if Tony still got hurt?! His hands were shaking as his thoughts swarmed in his head. He had been looking at his lap when he noticed the clothes he was wearing.... a hospital gown. Why hadn’t he grabbed clothes. He searched around the plane and found nothing but a plain t-shirt and a pair of black jeans and then.. he waited.

Finally he was there, running out of the plane he was hit by the cold, fighting passed the shaking as he spotted an open door. Running into the compound he followed the sounds of repulsive blasts and clanging metal. Peter smashed through the half open door just in time to see Steve about to bring his shield down onto Tony’s arch reactor.

“NO!” Both the men were taken off guard as Peter threw his full body weight against Steve, tackling him to the ground. Scrambling to his feet as he stood between Tony and Steve.

“This isn’t your fight kid.” Steve spoke to him, trying to dismiss him like last time.

“Mr Stark said you’d say that too and I’ll say it again... Fuck. You.” Peter snapped at the Captian towering over him. Steve stood bewildered that this was the kid that had handed his ass to him. This brief pause allowed Peter enough time to land a hard kick to Steve’s chest, sending him to the wall. The Captian got back to his feet, eyeing the defeated Tony who was struggling to get up.

“Don’t even think about it.” Peter warned as he stood over Tony’s body, lowering into the typical Spiderman pose. His eyes set in death glare as he watched Steve retreat out the door.

“Kid... Thank you but how did you even get here?” Tony asked the kid above him, almost in shock. Peter turned around, leaning down to help the man up to his feet.

“I followed you. Well more like Karen did. Friday was worried about you so she gave Karen you coordinates...” Tony just blinked in amazement as Peter answer his question. The kid then helped Tony out to the SHIELD plane.

“Did you steal a plane?” Tony laughed, as he stepped up the ramp before laying himself down on the floor.

“Uh... I borrowed it.” Peter shook as the adrenaline wore off. His body aching and shaking from the cold bitter air. The boy laid down beside Tony in a ball trying his best to warm himself up.

“Peter you could of gotten hurt... you can’t just rush into these things. You’ve already got broken ribs and a concussion.. Steve could of seriously hurt you. How did you even know what was going to happen?” Tony questioned the kid, going all mentor protection on him. Though Peter did notice how he was taking the armour off as well as his suit jacket that was underneath.

“I do? Oh. I thought I was just bruised. I guess that explains the pain. As for knowing it was more of a feeling. Yeah.. a feeling. What are you do- Oh.” Peter stopped short as Tony drapped his jacket over the shivering boy and pulled him in close. He couldn’t help but lean into the warmth radiating off the older man.

”Thank you, Mr Stark.” Peter said softly as he closed his eyes, putting his weight against him. The two laid together on the floor, silent and just enjoy the warmth of each other.

“Tony. Call me Tony.” Tony said after a long while. Peter smiled and felt his heart bloom. In this strange new world maybe Tony would love him in different way. It was a hope that Peter refused to let go of just yet.

#starker fluff #happy starker #starker #tony x peter #i got bored #i got my muse back #this is a new series #enjoy my whatever this is #reboot

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fidothefinch · 4 years

Text

Stuck with You

Batfam Week Day 3: Injuries/Bonding During a Mission

Ao3

“For the record, this is the singular worst hiding place I have ever had the displeasure of using.” Damian’s legs were cramping from holding his position for so long, but he didn’t dare move. The rain made everything slick, and he couldn’t afford to lose what traction he had.

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome to find a better one.” Tim’s voice, coming from somewhere behind and slightly above Damian, was too tired to sound annoyed. He was having difficulty holding still, too. “Still beats staying to take care of B.”

Damian scrunched his nose at the reminder. His father did not take the flu gracefully. “There is no time to rework our strategy. If this plan fails, it will be your fault alone.”

He could almost hear the eye roll. “Uh-huh. Okay, Robin.”

A noise came from outside, and they both stilled, straining their ears. It came closer, but when it passed the opening of their hiding place it was no bigger than a squirrel.

Tim shifted his weight carefully. “If the drug dealers want to get here soon, my back would appreciate it.”

The tube slide was made for children, after all. It was not meant to accommodate two vigilantes for hours on end.

The slide was bright yellow, the inside was covered with lewd graffiti, and it smelled like feet. But it was a small price to pay for the shelter the tube provided. As Damian had to begrudgingly agree, it was the only real hiding place on the playground close enough they would be able to catch the dealer in the act.

Lo and behold, the playground mulch was disturbed again as another figure shuffled by the slide in the dark. By the two-beat rhythm, Damian guessed it was a human.

They fell into silence.

Several minutes passed. The lone figure circled the playground several times, never quite finding a place to rest to wait.

Finally, the feet stilled. Tim tapped Damian on the shoulder, and Damian nodded he noticed. Within a minute, another set of footsteps ambled across the playground, guided by the glow of a flashlight.

“Are you Ray?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

The voices were muffled by the plastic, and even Damian had trouble making out the words. Carefully, he let himself slide down their hiding place. Just an inch.

A hand tapped his shoulder.

Damian scowled and looked back at Tim, who shook his head.

Damian rolled his eyes, threw off Tim’s hand, and braced his legs to prepare another miniscule movement.

When he turned back, there was a dog at the base of the slide.

Almost as though it could sense his gaze, its eyes shot over to him.

It growled.

“Up, up!” Damian hissed, pushing on Tim’s foot to convey the message.

The dog jumped onto the lip at the base of the slide and started barking. Damian had barely risen an inch before it tried to climb after him. Its teeth snapped around the empty air where his foot had been half a second earlier.

Damian grit his teeth and kicked out at it, wincing at the yelp it gave when he managed to clip its nose. The dog slid down and off the bottom of the slide, but there was no use in staying.

They had been spotted.

“Hey! Who’s there?” The light swiveled and illuminated the slide, highlighting the stark graffiti on the inside. Then it wobbled, and there was the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

Damian crept backward, but his boot hit a wet spot and he lost traction.

“Robin!”

Damian’s cape pulled taut, and it was his only saving grace when a bullet shot straight through the slide’s walls, narrowly missing Damian’s stomach. Tim hauled him up out of reach.

“Time to go.”

Damian couldn’t argue.

He scrambled up the slide after Tim, only pausing a second to allow Red Robin enough time to throw a smoke bomb ahead of their exit. Rebreathers in place, he followed Tim out into the open air.

Another gunshot went off. Red Robin flinched in front of him, but it didn’t slow his momentum. The older boy leapt over the iron railing and dove to the ground to face their pursuers head-on. Damian ran further down the play structure and waited until Red Robin had pushed the man back far enough he could swing around the fire pole and use the momentum to kick the man across the head.

The man fell hard.

Damian landed easily and wiped his hands off. “Tt.”

The other man, the one who had arrived earlier, was already across the field lining the playground. Ran at the first sign of trouble. As Damian watched, Red Robin’s grapple hook wrapped around his legs, and the man fell.

Smirking, Damian looked to Tim, ready to offer a quip. He paused at what he saw.

“You’re bleeding.”

Tim’s jaw twitched. His grapple fell from a lax hand. “Just a flesh wound.”

It was not.

Even as he said the words, his leg buckled underneath himself. Damian dove in to catch his shoulders before he hit the ground.

Tim clamped a hand over his thigh, but it wasn’t enough to stop blood from seeping out between his gloved fingers. “This would happen.”

Damian shifted Tim’s weight, pulling the taller boy’s arm over his shoulder as support. It didn’t really work; the height difference too great. “I will have to carry you.”

Tim snorted. “Yeah, right.”

But they didn’t really have any other options.

So Damian crouched down in front of Tim. He braced himself on his knees. “Here.”

Tim just stood there. “I can’t believe you’re offering me a piggyback ride.”

Damian grit his teeth. “I can still leave you here. I could call B—”

“That’s a low blow.” Tim braced one hand over Damian’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”

Damian scoot back underneath him more, so Tim’s front was resting against his back. “Hurry, before I change my mind.”

Tim still hesitated. But when he leapt up with one foot, Damian was easily able to catch him underneath the thighs. Tim hissed at the pressure on his leg. “Watch it!”

“TT. Hold on.”

Tim wrapped his arms around Damian’s neck. When Damian stood, he could not straighten his posture lest he risk overbalancing, but he held Tim’s weight relatively easily. “This should not be so easy. When is the last time you ate?”

Tim was quiet. That’s when Damian knew the time to joke was over. “Red Robin?”

“You know, I don’t know?”

Damian pushed Tim up a little so he could reach the treats in his pocket. The dog was watching them, and he could tell by its silhouette it didn’t like them. “You should take better care of yourself.”

Finding the treats, he threw one over for the dog. It sniffed it before gently picking it up and trotting over to sit next to its felled master to eat.

“Because I’m useless as a crimefighter when I haven’t eaten?”

“Because you’re a human and your body requires nourishment.” When Tim didn’t answer, Damian jostled the load on his back. “You are not allowed to lose consciousness.”

Tim hummed behind him. “I’m going to call the police, let them know they’re here.”

It was clearly deflection, but Damian let it slide. Blood loss, after all.

The smaller boy carried Tim past the playground, out of the park. He picked through the city, trying to keep out of sight. It was a quiet night, but they were compromised. He did not want to give any idling criminals ideas.

For the most part, Tim remained silent. Damian tapped his legs every few minutes, and Tim tapped his chest back. Still here.

When they had reached a safe house, Damian carefully lowered Tim onto the fire escape outside the apartment so he could open the window.

“Thanks.”

Damian stopped fiddling with the locking mechanism in his surprise. Then he doubled down his efforts to cover his hesitation. “TT. You must be delirious from blood loss.”

“No, really,” Tim whispered. “Thank you.”

The window slid open on silent hinges. Damian stepped through to make sure it was safe, and stepped out again to help Tim through. “You do not need to thank me. I am only doing this so Father does not bench me, as well.”

Tim pushed his cowl back to reveal a look of pain. “Oh, God. I hadn’t even thought of that. He’s going to kill me. You should have just left me to bleed out.”

Damian dragged Tim to the bathroom, where he forced him to lie down so he could examine the wound. It wasn’t as bad as they had thought. The bullet had sliced a deep cut across the exterior of Tim’s thigh. Nothing a good compression bandage and a few weeks’ rest couldn’t fix. “I would not do that.”

Tim went quiet again. Damian pulled out his first aid kit and began working on his leg. “I was serious. You really should take better care of yourself.”

Tim’s face screwed up. “Never thought I would hear that from you.”

Damian frowned. “Despite our history, I do not wish you ill.”

A sigh. “I know that.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Damian finished dressing the wound. He helped Tim sit up against the bathroom tiles, and fished out some painkillers (and light sedatives) for him.

Tim downed them dry. After making a face at the taste, he bluntly asked, “Are you going to tell Bruce?”

Damian studied the wall next to Tim’s head. He knew Tim was talking about more than the immediate wound. “Not yet.” He sliced his gaze to make eye contact with Tim. “A night’s rest, and then I will make a decision.”

It was no promise. Tim nodded in acknowledgement. “Okay.”

Damian acted as a support so Tim could stand, and together they hobbled over to the couch in the sparse living room.

They didn’t sit long before Tim slurred, “You drugged me.”

Damian smirked. “Technically, you drugged yourself.”

Tim groaned, sliding further down the couch. “Still beats spending the night with Bruce when he’s high on Nyquil.”

On that, Damian could agree.

He waited until Tim was asleep to send a quick message to Alfred about their whereabouts and Tim’s injury. Then he pulled a blanket from the bedroom and draped it over Tim’s body before stumbling to bed himself.

There was a conversation to be had in the morning, but it could wait. It had been a long night, after all, and Damian could not risk being made a hypocrite.

Rest it was.

#batfamweek2020 #day 3 #tim & damian #fido writes #fido doesn't know how to end stories (:#batfam

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kohanayaki · 4 years

Text

Jaime Lannister x Reader .:Fighting Chance:. Part 1

With his right hand gone, Jaime doesn't believe there's any way for him to regain his skill with the sword; his position in the Kingsguard is as good as finished. Luckily, Tyrion thinks he knows just the person to whip him back into shape- you.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You sighed softly as you swirled your second glass of wine around in your goblet, glancing around at the company you'd found yourself in. Today was but one of the many parties the royal family had planned in the weeks leading up to King Joffrey's wedding to Lady Margaery.

At the moment you were sitting at one of the lavishly decorated tables with a group of soldiers. You were much too sober by your standards but having a fun enough time. You idly sipped at your wine and threw the occasional word in the conversation, but events like this were dull to you. Everyone around you seemed to put on such a heavy act it made you sick. You were hoping someone would come along that didn't feel so. . . hollow.

As you felt the space shift beside you, you turned to see an older man approach and sit in the empty chair next to yours- very loud and very drunk.

“Now what's a pretty little thing like you doing with a group of mutts?” he slurred, shooting you a shit-eating grin.

Your eyes narrowed as the man slung an arm over your shoulders, his alcohol ridden breath fanning over your face and making you cringe.

“Hands off,” you said, your eyes narrowing.

The man only laughed and slid his hand down to your thigh.

“Well aren't you a feisty one? I wonder if you're the same way in the sack. Maybe I should fuck you over this table and find out-”

“Maybe you should move your fingers before you lose them,” you said, your tone deathly calm. Your words made the man recoil in shock which quickly turned into offense.

“I beg your pardon? I am a knight of the Kingsguard,” he said incredulously.

You forced your grimace into a sickeningly sweet smile as you turned to face him.

“Well then, with all due respect, Ser, kindly fuck off,” you said as you took another sip of your wine.

The soldiers around you chuckled in amusement at your crass language.

“You're going to let this little cunt push you around like that?” one of them goaded.

You didn't even take the time to acknowledge his comment but shot him a nasty glare as you cut away at the venison on your plate.

“No. Looks like the bitch needs to be put in her place,” the man scowled, reaching for you.

His hand didn't get much farther than the edge of his plate before you grabbed it and twisted hard, pressing the blade of your dinner knife against the flesh of his wrist.

Several of the soldiers stood immediately and drew their swords.

“Now now, what's going on here?”

You exhaled sharply through your nose as you reluctantly released your grip on the man, turning to face the unmistakable source of the voice: Joffrey Baratheon.

“A simple spat, Your Grace,” you said, putting on a smile, “Think nothing of it.”

“This crazy bitch tried to kill me!” the drunk man exclaimed.

“Well he did grab me,” you retaliated, unable to hold your tongue, “And threatened me with disgusting perverse acts. In response, I suggested he move his hand-”

“And nearly slit my wrist while doing so,” the man glared as he finished.

“Completely warranted if you ask me,” you said under your breath.

You heard a faint chuckle from the high table and shifted your gaze to the man behind the King. He wore the golden armor and cloak of the Kingsguard, his hair matching the hue of the metal. He was handsome, that was for certain, but he seemed. . . maybe tired wasn't the right word, but maybe it was. The man looked exhausted. The hollows of his cheeks seemed sunken into the chiseled features of his face, a sort of emptiness in his dark green eyes. And yet there he was, in his golden garb before the royal family, his facade just a little less prominent than everyone else's. Something told you there was more to him.

Meanwhile, the King looked between you and the drunk man with a sadistic glint in his eyes which settled on your form.

“Well then, it appears we have to resolve this issue somehow,” he said, “I thought this party was getting a bit dull, and I was right.”

The smile on his face was enough to send chills up your spine. It was cold and didn't quite reach his eyes, full of malicious intent.

“You claim she attacked you and yet she claims you tried to defile her,” he said, pointing to the man and then you respectively.

The smirk on Joffrey's face turned into something wicked as he spoke his next words:

“A duel should put this to rest, should it not?”

An excited murmur spread through the crowd, the prospect of barbaric entertainment drawing their attention. Of course the King had no real intentions of settling this dispute. In truth, most women in Westeros were forced to endure far worse than you just had without anyone saying a word. The only reason he intervened at all was for his own sick pleasure.

“Will you choose a champion, Ser?” Joffrey asked the man beside you.

“I have no need” he said smugly, “I can fight my own battles, I'm not a woman.”

Hearty laughs and leers were heard in the crowd as he said that, unsheathing his sword and brandishing it drunkenly.

“Let's have at it!” he shouted to the sky.

Joffrey's smirk only widened as he turned to you.

“And you,” he said, clearly pleased with himself, “Since you are so bold and brave to speak out against this man, why don't you fight as your own champion?”

Laughter erupted throughout the crowd of men around you at the King's joke and your gaze darkened.

“Very well.”

The hall seemed to go silent at your words but you trudged onwards.

“I will fight for myself,” you stated confidently.

Where there had been excitement before, there was now an air of nervousness. The man behind the King stared at you intently in something akin to disbelief but not without intrigue.

“Is she serious? She's just a woman,” you heard someone whisper.

“It was a joke, lass,” one of the soldiers called to you, “No need to get your pretty little dress dirty.”

“Don't be stupid, girl!” another shouted, “You'll get yourself killed!”

You saw the golden-haired man put a hand on the King's shoulder, a stern, warning look on his face.

“Your Grace-”

“Silence!” Joffrey seethed, slapping his hand away and successfully killing the chatter in the room, “If the girl wants her fight so badly, then so be it.” That twisted smile reappeared on his face as he acknowledged you directly, “Although I assume she'll need to arm herself first.”

A few obligated chuckles followed his statement which you quickly silenced.

“That won't be necessary, Your Grace,” you said.

You wordlessly knelt down to reach under the table where you were sitting before, gasps audible as you produced your sword in its scabbard. The head of a serpent was molded onto its hit, the intricate carvings in the thin, silver blade catching the light as you unsheathed it.

“Valyrian steel?” you heard someone say in disbelief.

“Impossible,” Joffrey muttered, “There's only a handful of them left in Westeros.”

“Well I'm not from around here,” you said, downing the rest of your wine in one gulp and taking a step forward. The crowd parted like the red sea as you stepped into the hall's center.

The man only chuckled, twirling his blade in his hand.

“You must have a death wish, girlie.”

“What is your name?” you asked, feeling the familiar weight and balance of your sword in your hand.

“Grag Brask,” he grinned cockily, “Remember it well, woman.”

“Well then, Ser Grag,” you stepped forward, a dangerous smile playing on your lips, “Are you going to stand around all day or are we going to fight?”

Joffrey seemed to recover from his initial shock, composing himself and raising his hand in the air.

“Let the duel commence!”

Before the King had even finished his sentence Grag charged at you with a great yell, swinging his sword in a wide and predictable arc. He was a fair bit larger than you, but you knew you had the upper hand when it came to agility. You ducked under his blade with ease, promptly kicking him between his shoulder blades. He grunted in pain as he stumbled forward, one hand darting to the ground to keep himself steady as his own weight worked against him.

You wasted no time with an attack of your own, moving to strike him in the side. He narrowly blocked your attack and grunted as he felt himself be thrown even more off his center of balance. You swiftly went in for another blow, this time coming from above. Grag parried before your blade could come down on top of his head and pushed you away, putting some distance between you two.

You silently relished in his shocked and agitated expression as you twirled your sword around your wrist, looking around at the audience you'd accumulated. If it's a show they wanted, then you'd happily provide.

Grag let out a growl, sounding much more irritated than his last, as he charged you again. You held your ground until he was less than a meter away before swiftly stepping to the side. However he surprised you by grabbing hold of your sword hand, twisting it in an attempt to disarm you. You delivered a harsh kick to his armored torso but his grip refused to loosen.

You let out a sharp exhale as you tossed your sword from your right hand to your left, striking him in the side of his armor. Grag's eyes widened in surprise, attempting to block your swing. However he was unused to dueling anyone with a blade in their left hand and found the angle he had to reach awkward. A sharp clang! rang out in the great hall as you delivered another crippling blow to his torso, every strike sending him further and further back.

Grag made one last feeble attempt at an offensive maneuver, aiming straight for your head. You parried the attack with your left hand easily, your body moving on its own muscle memory. You twisted your blade around his until the momentum pried it from his grasp, his sword skidding across the polished marble floor.

He didn't have any time to react before you swept his feet from under him. He crumpled into a heap on the floor as you kicked him in the side so he was on his back. You placed your right foot on his windpipe, the point of your blade against his cheek.

“Yield,” you said.

“This isn't over,” he coughed out.

Your eyes narrowed as you increased the pressure on his neck. He gargled pathetically as you did.

“Oh, I think it is,” you said, “I don't draw blood if it isn't needed, and it seems I didn't have to at all to beat you.”

Your smirk widened as you leaned in closer to his face.

“Tell me, Ser Grag, have you ever been beaten by an opponent in a dress and corset?” you asked devilishly.

Joffrey's expression was furious, clearly disappointed that you weren't in pieces on the floor. You shot an innocent smile his way.

“Won't you call this off, Your Grace?” you asked sweetly, “This has certainly been entertaining but I'd hate to spoil a party with a death, no matter how tempting it may be.”

Joffrey looked like he was going to burst in anger at any moment, but Grag spoke before he could.

“I. . . I yield,” he said bitterly.

He gasped for air as your foot left his throat.

“Lords and ladies, the victor. . .” Joffrey glanced over to you with clear disdain as he trailed off, waiting for you.

“(Y/n), Your Grace,” you said with a smile.

The audience, once out of shock, erupted in applause. Most of them had never seen a woman fight in their lives, and taking down one of the head knights of the Kingsguard was no easy task.

Jaime watched you from the corner of the room as you curtsied playfully, sheathing your blade and brushing imaginary dirt from your dress. You fascinated him already. Your fighting style was unlike anything he'd seen in Westeros. You struck to disarm, not to kill, though there was no doubt in his mind you were capable of the latter. On top of that, you were proficient wielding a blade with your left hand. . .

He found himself glancing over at you again as you gave your gratitude to those who congratulated you. You weren't the traditional Westerosi lady, that was for sure- your words were crass, your temper hot, and yet your features were soft. Your (e/c) eyes seemed to light up as a little girl stared up at you in awe, jumping up and down as she praised your skills. Wisps of (h/c) hair had come undone from your braid in the fight and you gracefully tucked them behind your ear as you scooped up the child in your arms to ask her name.

“She could be useful,” a voice suddenly jolted Jaime from his thoughts as he looked to the side and then down at his brother.

“When did you get here?” Jaime sighed, “And what do you mean 'useful'?”

“You saw her fight, she's no ordinary lady,” Tyrion said, “And I know you noticed her skill with her left hand. Given your current circumstances, she's an ideal teacher.”

“I don't need a teacher,” Jaime scoffed, “It's not as if my knowledge of the sword was cut off along with my hand.”

“No, but you certainly ought to learn how to connect that head of yours with your hand, because as we stand you can barely write your own name,” Tyrion countered.

Jaime grumbled to himself, out of witty remarks in that regard.

And that's how he somehow found himself, the very next week, on a wide plateau above the water, waiting for you to arrive.

Tyrion hadn't exactly given him a choice once he confirmed these sessions with you, and the small bit of anxiety creeping up in his chest surprised him. He looked down at his left hand, clenching and unclenching it into a fist. Would he really be able to fight again? What if he completely made a fool of himself in front of you? He'd never even talked to you, your first impression was going to be him barely able to wield a blade.

He exhaled sharply as he took another deep breath in. What if there really was no helping him? He felt his gut twist, feeling conflicted. He felt like the most useless creature in Westeros at the moment, and yet the lingering trace of pride in him didn't want to reach out to anyone for help. He didn't want to be seen as useless as he felt- as everyone else said he was now.

His head turned towards the docks as he heard footsteps approaching to see you and Tyrion. Instead of the embroidered dress he had seen you in at the party, you wore a simple pair of slacks and a flowy white shirt which you had tied at the waist. Your hair twisted around your head like a crown, the rest braided loosely to the side. Your sword rested against your hip in all its glory, and a burlap bag was slung over your shoulder.

You smiled at Jaime as you came to a stop in front of him and he felt his breath hitch in the back of his throat. Hell if you weren't beautiful. . .

None of this went unnoticed by Tyrion who looked between you two, making a point of clearing his throat before speaking up.

“Jaime, this is Lady (Y/n). Lady (Y/n), this is my brother, Jaime. Hopefully he can learn a thing or two from you.”

Jaime scowled inwardly, turning away slightly from you two.

“You flatter me, My Lord,” you chuckled, “I'm sure I'll have some things to learn from him as well.”

Tyrion nodded to you before turning on his heels and beginning to walk away.

“Have fun,” he called over his shoulder, “And do try not to kill him, most of our family would like him back alive.”

You grinned at his remark and turned your attention to Jaime. You had seen him a bit during your duel at the party, but you took a moment to study him more closely. His eyes appeared a brighter green in the afternoon sun, and you could see the faintest splatter of freckles across his tanned skin.

“Something you find interesting?” he asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“You're different than I expected,” you replied simply.

“How so?” he asked, quirking a brow.

“I expected you to be. . . I don't know, taller? More handsome?” you said playfully.

“With two hands?” he chuckled, taking a light jab at himself.

“Well, truth be told, I didn't know who you were when I saw you at the party,” you admitted, a bit embarrassed, “I only found out when Tyrion approached me afterwards.”

That surprised Jaime for two reasons. One, he hadn't even known that you noticed him at the party, and two, you truly didn't seem to know or care who he was.

“Like I said, I'm not from around here,” you said, going off his expression.

“And where would that be?” Jaime questioned.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Your smirk widened as you stood in front of him.

“Oh, I would,” he grinned up at you, “Among other things, if you're up to sharing.”

Damn that smile.

You forced yourself to hold your ground as you spoke.

“How about a deal? Each time you land a hit on me I'll tell you something about myself,” you grinned back.

“You seem pretty confident that I won't be able to hit you,” Jaime said, feigning offense.

“On the contrary,” you said, sliding your bag off your shoulder and dumping its contents onto the cobblestone. Two training swords tumbled out making Jaime look up at you.

“You're joking, right?” he scoffed, actually taking offense this time, “I haven't used a training weapon since I was nine.”

“Tell me something, Jaime Lannister,” you began, picking up one of the dulled blades, “Have you even attempted to hold a sword since you lost that hand?”

That shut him up fairly quickly.

“No,” he said quietly, begrudgingly picking up the weapon.

“Let's take it slow,” you said, sensing his unease, “Although, I won't be going easy on you.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Jaime replied, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. Simply holding the weight of the sword upright in his left hand put strain on his wrist he hadn't felt since he was a child. It felt heavier than a sword ever had in his right, the center of its balance precariously placed.

“Defend yourself,” you instructed him, lunging at him with surprising speed.

Jaime's eyes widened as he stumbled to block your attack, biting his lip as his wrist bent at an awkward angle to do so. You wasted no time going in for another offensive maneuver, sliding your foot in front of you and turning to strike him in his blind spot. Jaime grunted as the practice sword made contact with his ribcage and he fought to ignore the painful sensation.

When he managed to turn to face you, you had already ducked under his arm, swiftly bringing the hilt of your sword between his shoulder blades and making him fall forward. Even as he knelt at the floor you didn't relent, and a sharp clang of metal rang through the air as he brought up his sword horizontally to block your downward attack. You really weren't kidding about going easy on him.

You backed away, letting him come to his feet but not waiting a moment more than that. You circled him like a predatory animal, observing his stance and body language. When his grip on his sword loosened slightly so he could adjust it, you sprang forward and delivered another harsh blow to his side. Jaime grit his teeth and whirled around, striking at you straight on. You avoided the attack with a simple tilt of your head, seamlessly shifting your weight to deliver a roundhouse to his gut.

Jaime reeled back as the air was knocked out of his lungs and he staggered back on the impact.

“I thought I told you to defend first,” you said, “How are you going to get the opportunity to attack if you can't avoid your opponent's?”

“I know that,” Jaime huffed, irritated, “I'm not a child, I'm the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, I know the basics of swordplay you so desperately want to reteach me.”

You lowered your sword and studied him curiously, an unreadable expression on your face.

“So that's what it is,” you sighed, “I know what you're thinking, 'How can this girl possibly be qualified to teach me? I have years of experience on her and I've managed just fine on my own until now. I've never needed any help. I'm a prodigy. If I had my right hand right now I'd be able to beat her with my eyes closed.' Well let me tell you something, Lannister, you don't have your right hand anymore, and it isn't growing back any time soon.”

You charged him again and he struggled to block you once more.

“You know you need help but you're too proud to ask for it,” you stated confidently, “And more than that, you're giving up.”

“I'm not,” he countered breathlessly. He made a half-arsed attempt to take a swing at you which you easily countered.

“It seems you already have,” you said, your eyes narrowing.

“Why are you even here?” he snapped, “If my brother offered you gold to work with a lost cause then I'll pay you triple and you can just leave already.”

That set you off.

In one swift movement you swiped his feet out from under him, grabbing his sword out of his hand as he tumbled backwards. He cursed under his breath and was about to counter with another evasive, witty retort when he froze as you drew your real sword, pressing the blade to his chest.

“Your brother did offer me gold,” you said, “and I told him I had no need for it. So listen up-From what I've heard, your skill with the sword was unmatched. If you want to get back to that point it's not going to be easy, and it's not going to be fun either. But if you're going to give up before you've even started, then just walk away. Don't waste your time, and don't waste mine either.”

Jaime was both taken aback and slightly turned on by your demanding tone as you stood over him. He could tell you meant every word you said, and something told him that he could trust you.

Your expression softened slightly as you sighed and sheathed your blade, staring at the uncertain man in front of you.

“You aren't a lost cause,” you said.

His heart pounded in his ears as he stared up at you, and that's when he realized: You weren't here to laugh at him like so many others had. You weren't here for gold or a shallow round in his bed. You were here to help him become the greatest fighter in Westeros once again. He knew what you said was true, this wasn't going to be easy or fun, but he was willing to work for it. You had lit a fire under his ass.

He wordlessly reached down for the practice sword and took up a fighting stance, and you knew something had changed in him.

“Alright then,” you grinned widely, readying your own weapon,

“Let's do this, Jaime Lannister.

#jaime lannister x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #tyrion lannister #joffrey baratheon #joffrey lannister #reader insert #game of thrones reader insert #Jaime lannister/reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones/reader #x reader

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thekytchensynk · 3 years

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Ain’t No Picnic (1/9)

I really need to get in the habit if posting things here and at AO3, both, at around the same time, every time. But laaaaaazy. Summary: They were just supposed to head over to the island real quick, just to see what was going on. After all, if pirates were trying to ambush and kill the Straw Hat crew, how could Coby NOT go? And how could Helmeppo let him go alone? It should be simple enough, but nothing can be taken for granted in the New World, and when things go awry, Helmeppo finds himself separated from his captain on an island chain full of pirates who probably won't be too happy to see a Marine if their paths cross.Oh yeah. And one of those pirates is the infamous "Surgeon of Death," Trafalgar Law... Warnings: Occasional strong language Read it on AO3 _________________

Bullets whizzing overhead had become appalling boring at some point.

The thought occurred to Helmeppo as he ducked behind a rock, crouching low below the projectiles. Sure, Marine training had been all chores and jogging and Garp’s fists for a while, but once he’d followed Coby out into the real world, it seemed people were always shooting at them.

“Hang on,” an unfamiliar voice said from the other side of the cavern the fools were currently shooting in. The muted tone of the voice told Helmeppo the words weren’t directed to him, but probably to the rest of the gaggle of pirates on that side of the cave.

The shooting died down, and quiet fell over the cavern. In the void came the sounds of fingers reloading weapons and feet splashing in the thin layer of water on the floor. Helmeppo used his thumb to adjust his grip on the kukri that he hadn’t dropped like an idiot. He wished there were dry clothes to change into, but that was nothing more than a fond daydream at the moment.

“Did we get him?” a higher voice asked. They were trying to speak quietly, but the open space carried every word.

“Shh,” admonished another. The voices fell quiet. In their place were … footsteps. He heard four sets, but his limited haki gave him the idea that it was more like five. Maybe six. Some of them were pretty good, he had to give them that.

Limited space. Firearms. Outnumbered maybe six or more to … well …

His eyes slid to the left, hidden by his shades. A lanky man hunkered down behind the same rock formation a few feet away steadfastly ignored him. The guy seemed focused on wringing out his sodden hat. No help there. At least he didn’t seem intent on joining in the attack on the other side either. Good enough, he supposed.

Helmeppo flashed his kukri above the rock, immediately drawing another volley of gunshots. As the clamorous echoes died down, he scuttled left and vaulted over his cover. His wet clothes tugged at his limbs, but not enough to hamper him.

Eight. It turned out to be eight of them, with several of them fairly closely bunched up. Looked like his haki was just as unreliable as his ears, But Helmeppo couldn’t restrain a small smile, taking in the scene.

Perfect.

With two quick steps, he planted his lead foot and chopped downward, knife biting deep into the crook of the nearest man’s elbow. The blade slid free cleanly as the gun dropped from his target’s hands. But he didn’t even pause. Two more steps and Helmeppo dropped to a knee in the thin puddle covering the entire floor, slashing upward across the midsection of a second attacker. The move could have disemboweled the guy if he aimed a little lower. As it was, he’d given the man something to worry about.

The next nearest guy had wisely abandoned his unloaded gun and was in the act of trying to pull his sword, but his sodden leather scabbard seemed to be giving him some trouble. Springing forward from his crouch, Helmeppo reversed the knife and slammed the hilt into the man’s temple. The guy abandoned the attempt to pull his weapon in favor of bringing his hands up, trying to protect his head, but not fast enough. The second strike in the same spot sent him to the ground.

As the guy crumpled, Helmeppo made as though to strike him a third time, but switched the weapon blade-first again with a little twirl of his fingers, cutting just above the falling man’s head. Another of the pirates (a larger guy than the rest) was closing in beyond his falling teammate, but threw on the brakes as he saw the knife coming at his head. Letting the momentum of his swing aid him, Helmeppo stepped forward and brought his other hand up in a left hook that sent the man staggering.

The rest of the crew were a little more spread out. Helmeppo scanned the room at a glance, searching, searching …

There.

He darted to the right, toward another of the pirates, one who had his sword out and ready. The guy looked confident, but after all the hell … er, training Helmeppo had been through, it was almost like the pirate was moving in slow motion. He raised his sword in both hands in preparation to chop downward on Helmeppo’s arms or shoulder. Helmeppo just kept charging … only to pivot to the left at the last second, ducking around the guy’s clumsy strike and using the hatchet-like blade of his knife to bite deep into the guy’s thigh before sliding free. A little more dangerous, but not if the crew got it taken care of quickly.

He swung into a slide, finally snatching up the knife he’d dropped earlier, when he’d initially been dumped into this gods-forsaken cave. Another gun went off, but he hadn’t stopped moving yet, and the shooter might have been smart enough to save the shot or quick enough to reload, but hadn’t been good enough to actually aim the damn thing appropriately. Helmeppo came up running, pelting around to a woman wielding a cutlass. Her aim was better than the guy who’d tried to chop at him earlier, but he caught the blade in the hook of one knife. Gritting his teeth, he shoved the blade around and upward, using the opening to slam his elbow into the lady’s stomach. Then he was dodging around her, heading toward another of the pirates.

To the left!

He skidded to a stop as his instincts all went into full warning mode. Pivoting, his crossed knives caught the business end of an oversized cutlass.

“Give it up, Marine,” the equally oversized idiot wielding the sword said -- one Helmeppo had thought he’d already laid out. The side of his face looked red where Helmeppo had punched him a minute ago. The Marine cursed himself briefly. Thinking a guy this huge would be done with a single punch? He wasn't Coby, he had these knives for a reason.

No time to dwell. His opponent didn’t seem terribly skilled, but he was very large and very strong. Helmeppo felt his arms tremble as they fought to oppose the downward pressure of the guy’s sword. But that wasn’t what worried him.

Standing still, I’m a sitting duck.

Helmeppo angled the knives, redirecting the pressure along the blade of one of his weapons. The cutlass clanged into the stone floor.

A moment later, one of the kukri stabbed deep into the guy’s left shoulder. The guy dropped his weapon to put pressure on the wound, hissing in pain.

As the man backed off, Helmeoppo took a few steps back toward the rocks from before, then took stock of the field again. Two unharmed, two injured but possibly able to fight, four who’d already lost the will. He flicked the bloodied weapons to either side, sending crimson droplets across the stone floor. Had that been enough? He didn’t really want to continue with this exercise. The pirates were strong and aggressive, but clearly relied on sheer numbers and a few highly skilled members to win most fights. He'd probably be all right, but he was alone, and definitely not at the top of his game. If it dragged on, this could go either way.

One of the two unharmed pirates took a shaking step back, but the other stepped forward, placing herself directly in Helmeppo’s way. “Get out of here and regroup,” the lady shouted. Most of the rest of the pirates hurried to do just that, some helping their downed teammates. Helmeppo watched the scramble, enjoying the ambiguity that his eye shade gave him. Under pretext of getting the stone again at his back, he positioned himself so the one pirate with a backbone stood between himself and the lone exit from this cavern. Let her have her heroic stand, protecting their retreat from the evil marine.

Letting them go might come back to bite him in the ass later, but he didn’t know how many more groups like this might be prowling around. He’d want to save his strength. Besides, he could just feel Coby’s eyes on him.

Wherever he was.

Shaking off that thought, he turned his attention back to his opponent. “You sure you want to do this?” Helmeppo asked, tapping the back of one of the knives casually against his shoulder.

She narrowed her eyes and just watched him.

Well, fair enough.

Their clash was brief but intense. She fought with two knives as well. Hers were smaller, but they flashed with a darting efficiency that for the first time left him feeling like he was chasing in the fight. This lady actually had some skills, certainly more than the rest of that crew.

But she was clearly used to being able to end a fight early with those quick reflexes. The strain of the fact that he was keeping up with her started to show pretty quickly, as she tried to drive him back and over into a corner. He could see her gritted teeth, the muscles in her neck straining as every inch of her tensed into the fight.

Garp would say she needed some training. But she certainly showed promise.

After what felt like a while but in reality only took maybe twenty seconds, she began to slow. And a second later, he knocked one of her knives out of her hand. It skidded over behind the rocks where he’d been hiding earlier.

Immediately she hopped back to put space between herself and him, panting, eyes darting between his hands and the rocks. She knew she couldn’t fend off his attack with just one knife. So what are you going to do now? Go get it? Or run?

She made her decision almost immediately.

Helmeppo didn’t have a particular investment in the fight, so he just watched her sprint for the rocks where her knife -- oh yeah, and the other person -- were. “Uh … hey!” He shouted after her, not really sure which one of them he was warning.

If she thought it was her, she ignored him. Reaching the rocks, she vaulted over and disappeared behind the uneven stones. Helmeppo straightened up, knives at his sides, just watching.

A couple seconds passed. Then a high sound that wasn’t exactly a scream but was certainly in that neighborhood issued from behind the rocks. The woman came leaping back into the open and sprinted for the exit, not sparing a single extra glance for the Marine. Helmeppo watched her go.

“Figures she recognizes a former Warlord,” he muttered. Then, louder, “I appreciate the help.”

The lanky form unfolded from behind the rocks, his eye-catching clothes making him, to be fair, pretty recognizable. Trafalgar Law was a figure who, until today, Helmeppo had known only through reputation. Like Helmeppo and all the other pirates, his clothes were wet but he managed to look like it didn’t bother him in the least. Helmeppo found himself self-consciously resisting the urge to wring out the ends of his shirt.

For a long moment, Law stared over at Helmeppo, as though debating whether or not to bother with him -- dark, hard eyes without an inch of pity. But the eyes didn’t bother him so much. It was the aura . He felt it off some of the most powerful marines when things got serious. Almost a physical force that pushed people away, warned them against approaching or staring. Here is danger. Beware, or die. Fleet Admiral Sakazuki seemed incapable of turning it off.

Law’s wasn’t like the Fleet Admiral’s -- the marine’s aura felt appropriately like a volcano, close to erupting, dangerous, barely contained and likely to hurt anyone in range if unleashed. Law’s felt more like a snake -- intensely focused but restrained. No less deadly, for that.

You’re a Marine, you can’t just back down against a pirate. So Helmeppo didn’t cower, but he watched, keeping still and trying not to look like a threat. If that guy decided to act against him … well, he wasn’t Garp. He wasn’t even Coby. He had no illusions -- he’d try his best, but against the “Surgeon of Death” he didn’t fancy his chances. Hell, the islands of the Grand Line were littered with the bones of Marines who faced down pirates they couldn’t handle. But he couldn’t be a wimp about it. Not anymore. Not if he was going to keep up.

After a few seconds, Law looked away from Helmeppo, up toward the lone tunnel that was letting light into the cavern and started walking.

The smart thing would be to just let him go. Helmeppo knew that. Ever since the weird water vortex had vomited them out on this lump of land, the only thing remotely connecting them was that (before everything had gone all to hell) they had nominally been fighting on the same side. But the bridge that connected them -- Coby and the Straw-Hat kid -- wasn’t here. So they weren’t allies.

But … they did presumably both want to get back to the same place. So helping each other out wouldn’t hurt, right?

Helmeppo was feeling decidedly the odd man out. He’d lost his hat when they’d gotten washed to this gods-forsaken island, but every pirate here had probably been at that skirmish, and that any one of them could know what he was. And pirates might fight pirates, but the Marines were the enemy of them all. Which meant this could get seriously dangerous for him.

Damnit, Coby, he thought as he trudged up the tunnel toward the light, why did we have to get involved?

The sunlight as he stepped from inside to outside flared too bright for a moment, even with his shades on. Up ahead, Law stopped as Helmeppo stepped into the open air. “If you’re coming after me,” he said, voice brittle and no-nonsense, “you had better be confident in your ability to beat me.”

“I have no intention of fighting you,” Helmeppo said, taking a deep breath and at least enjoying the sense of space around him. The cave had felt uncomfortably enclosed. Across from here, he could see a natural alcove made of vines and branches. Was that where they’d come out? Didn’t matter. “I’m not that stupid. But … well…”

“But?” Law’s apparent impatience turned the word into a knife. Hoo boy. Why did he have to be stuck with this guy of all people?

“It feels like two are going to be better than one,” Helmeppo said in his most reasonable tone. “Besides, the sooner we can get back to our compatriots, the sooner we can leave this … whatever this is.”

Another silence stretched between them. Then Law turned his back on him. “Do what you want.” There was such dismissal in the words that Helmeppo bristled, but what could he do about it? So he followed.

It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but it certainly beat wandering around alone on a strange island or just sitting around like a lump waiting for attack or rescue.

#fanfic #one piece #helmeppo #op

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thegoodgayshit · 3 years

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Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Fourteen: I Begin My Career in Bullfighting

Luz’s hands were shaking as the Minotaur charged again, slashing through the thorns with his ax. Willow swung her blade, and another wall appeared in front of it, buying them some more time.

“What do we do?” She yelped, as the beast bellowed in rage and reared back to swing again. Gus flinched behind his shield, and Amity stepped forward with her sword, her eyes hardened ready to attack. Luz’s heart hammered in her chest.

“Amity, get in the tent!” Luz ordered quickly, and the daughter of the love goddess whipped her head around to look at Luz with wide eyes.

“What? I’m not letting you do this on your own!”

“You’re injured and exhausted,” Luz retorted. She knew Amity was going to fight with her on this, but Luz thought that despite their little time, it was worth it. “You could get hurt. The three of us can hold it off.”

“I’ve dealt with worse these last few weeks,” Amity insisted. “Four demigods are better than three.” She turned her head back to the monster and Luz gawked in annoyance that she wasn’t going to listen to her.

Luz wanted to keep arguing with her, and she opened her mouth to do just that, but from her right, she felt Willow put a hand over her shoulder. When she turned, she was looking at her seriously, her green eyes shining with an emotion she couldn’t read.

“Let her fight. It’s no use trying to talk her out of it when she’s made up her mind. We’re out of time.”

She was right. With another roar, the Minotaur hacked down the thorns and charged, flying in their direction. Willow and Gus yelped, throwing their bodies to the right, but Luz just froze up, unable to tear her eyes away from the massive bull-man running at her at full speed.

Amity literally saved her life. She threw her body into Luz’s, knocking them both to the left. Luz felt her body skid and roll, and she scrambled to her feet, clutching her sword. She looked over and saw Amity struggling to get up, so she reached down and help pull her to her feet. The Minotaur wasn’t able to change direction fast enough and ran straight into the tree next to their tent, and the force of the impact caused him to roar in pain.

“Thanks,” Luz breathed out, and Amity simply leaned against Luz for support, the force of their fall clearly having knocked the wind out of her.

“Next time just pay attention,” she said, and while the tone was light, Luz felt a flash of guilt realizing just how close they’d come to being flattened. They needed a plan.

She looked over at her friends and saw that Gus was trying to get Willow to circle the monster around the tree. Thinking this was a decent idea, she charged forward with Amity on her heels and they spread out in a half-circle around it and took turns stabbing with their weapons. The Minotaur roared in annoyance, and its massive head swung around and around as it tried to pinpoint who had hit it where. But it was too slow, and with one particularly good strike from Amity, who stabbed it right in the thigh, it realized it was trapped.

Locking its eyes on Gus’ shiny sword, it reared back and charged, and the boy just barely had time to screech and dive sideways before it charged right where he’d been moments before.

It took the monster some time to do a complete full turn, but when it did, it’s eyes locked on a new target: Willow. As it reared back to charge, Willow swung her sword in a slashing motion, and roots sprung up from the ground, wrapping around its legs. The Minotaur tripped, falling to its knees, and Amity gasped.

“Now’s our chance!”

Luz had seen the opening too because she was already running. She knew Willow was doing her best to keep the thorns wrapped around its legs, and in Amity’s condition, she’d never get there in time before the monster broke free. She was the only one who’d be able to get there in time.

She broke into a long stride and leaped through the air right as the Minotaur broke free. With a swing of her leg, Luz managed to straddle it’s shoulder blades in a piggyback as it stood up, shaking as hard as it realized Luz was on it.

It took everything she had to hold on for dear life. The beast shook its head in a fury and began charging at random. Luz wanted to use Aletheia to stab as hard as she could into the back of his head, but she couldn’t keep a strong grip on both the sword and the Minotaur without being thrown off it.

The Minotaur kept charging at random, trying to shake Luz off while also keeping her friends at bay. Luz heard Amity shriek in surprise as it spun in a 180 and almost rammed her against a tree. If it’d not been for Willow, who’d seen it coming and was able to yank Amity out of the way, she’d also have been crushed. This spurred on new anger inside Luz. They’d come so far to free Amity from Orpheus, they were not going to fail her now. She couldn’t move her hands away from the monster's neck, but she did have her feet.

On one particularly hard spin, Luz used the momentum of the beast to throw her body up in the air, and come back down hard with her heel, slamming it into the back of the monster's spine. The Minotaur yelped and recoiled, and Luz finally had an opening. Luz reached into her pocket and slipped on the leather strap she only used on special occasions. When she felt it slide over her palm, she reared up her hand and slammed the buzzer down on the Minotaur as hard as she could. His whole body jerked as it was wracked with an electric shock, and the beast was frozen in paralysis.

Everybody around her moved at once. Willow and Amity used their swords to slash at its arms, and Gus charged with his spear, hitting it right in the stomach. There was a horrible squelching sound as all the weapons connected at once, and the beast went limp, dropping to its knees.

Luz leaped off it’s back and stabbed with her sword as hard as she could, and the blade went right through its heart. The Minotaur dissolved into dust, every part of it fading including its armor that melted away like butter. All that drop to the ground was a single silver chain around its neck, landing neatly in a pile on top of the monster dust.

Exhaling, Luz touched her blade and it turned back to a ring. Willow and Gus retracted their own weapons, and the three of them shared a look of exhaustion. How many more battles were they going to be in today? It was barely after two o’clock.

Amity tucked her xiphos back onto her belt, doing her best to stand straight, but Luz saw her chest rise and fall quickly. She was still favoring her leg, and while she knew nectar and ambrosia was all healing in a sense, she didn’t like that Amity looked almost just as exhausted now as she had at Orpheus’ manor.

“How did it find us?”

Gus was the first to speak, his voice wavering fearfully. Luz was suddenly very aware of how much younger he was than Luz, Willow, and Amity. With his shield on his arm hiding half of his body and exposing his face, his features were still incredibly baby-like.

“The thorns should have kept our location hidden,” Willow mused, her own eyes dark with anxiety. “There’s no reason it should have spotted us in the forest like this.”

“Is there any way it could be tracking any of us?” Amity asked the question innocently, clearly not wanting to start any kind of pointing figures, but Luz’s blood ran cold. Her hands immediately popped up to her face, and her eyes widened comically.

“Holy Zeus,” she said guiltily. “I know how it found us.”

She then told them about the cellphone she had packed with them and forgotten to ask about. When she was halfway through the story, Gus groaned so loudly Luz winced. He looked like he wanted to smack Luz across the face.

“Are you serious?” He exclaimed, glaring at her. “There’s a reason cellphones are banned at camp.”

“That was very irresponsible, Luz,” Willow agreed, and Luz deflated, feeling worse about the whole thing.

“I’m sorry, guys,” she said, her face heating up. “I just wanted to have a way to keep in contact with my Mami. I put us all in danger and I’m sorry. I’ll leave my phone behind the next time we move.”

“We should move soon,” Gus said. Now that Luz had apologized, he looked less frustrated. He must have been able to tell how guilty Luz was feeling. “As long as that cellphone is on Luz, all monsters will know where we are.”

Amity, who had been quiet the whole time, was watching Luz with narrowed gold eyes. “Hold on, Luz, could you please go get your phone?”

Luz blinked, and Gus and Willow shared equally confused looks.

“Uh, okay.”

She went into her bag inside the tent and took out the phone, bringing it back outside. While she had gone to get it, Willow had waved her hand and grown back more thorns, but the act seemed to make her more exhausted than she’d been before. Luz’s curiosity spiked. She wondered how much energy summoning plants took out of her.

When she met back up with Amity, the gold eyed demigod held out her hand, and Luz dropped the phone into her palm. Amity pressed the home button on her iPhone 7 (Luz wasn’t allowed to have a new phone, she’d broken the X her Mami had splurged on her for Christmas last year and after that, she’d had to use her Mami’s old phone) and her eyebrows furrowed when it didn’t turn on.

“Has it been off the whole time?”

Luz frowned, she supposed she must have turned it off when they were in the chariot as they left Camp Halfblood. She nodded.

“Yeah, I didn’t want it to die on the trip in case I couldn’t charge it.”

Amity handed it back to her. “Then the monster didn’t find us from your phone.”

Now Luz was confused. “What?”

Gus sighed and nodded to what Amity was saying. He and Willow were now looking guilty.

“Monsters track the signal from the phone when you send or receive messages,” Gus explained. “So you’re phone wasn’t the reason the Minotaur found us.”

“Gus!” Willow hissed, looking around nervously. “Watch what you say.”

“Sorry, Pasiphae’s son.” Gus corrected. Luz now was so confused she just settled on the realization that she was never going to figure out this whole demigod thing so she just let Gus talk. “So we were traced here, but not by your phone.”

Amity had crouched down over the scatterings of Minotaur dust, and she pulled up a huge silver chain.

“This is it.”

Luz peered closer at it, and realized on the bottom of the chain there was a little old-timey message in a bottle hanging off the end. Amity popped the cork with her thumb, tipping it upside down to take out a small piece of paper. She unraveled it and read the note out loud.

“This is your last warning. Now that you have your friend, turn around now and go straight back to your camp. More horrors await you if you come after the hearth. -Theo”

Luz felt white-hot rage searing through her bones. “That jerk!”

“That’s some way to promise us they won’t hurt us if we turn around,” Willow said in annoyance.

“We should have known it was from him the second we saw what monster it was,” Gus added, turning to look at Luz guiltily. “Sorry for accusing you.”

“It’s fine,” Luz said, doing her best to control her temper. “I didn’t tell you that I’d brought it, so it’s also my fault too.”

“Hold on,” Amity said, and Luz was glad she wasn’t the only one who looked confused. “Who’s Theo?”

“We better get inside the tent and talk,” Willow said, her mouth forming into a hard line. “We have a lot to catch up on, from both sides.”

The four of them sat around the blanketed floor of their tent, each of them picking at the wraps they’d bought from Starbucks earlier that morning. The only one with an appetite seemed to be Amity, and she wolfed down the sandwich so quickly Luz wondered when the last time she’d had a real meal was.

Willow told their side of the story all the way from the beginning of camp, from when Edric and Emira had called on a favor from Aphrodite to take the chariot, to Antheia and the crowns, (which had finally wilted off their heads, and no flower magic Willow had tried seemed to get them back to health) to the white, sorry Caucasian, eagle. When she told Amity that the eagle had been killed in exchange for a ride, Amity winced.

“Sorry about that, Edric and Emira have a habit of just doing things without thinking.”

Luz shrugged. “It ended up working out. It got us all the way to Cincinnati in less than an hour. We met Theo… er… Theseus on the bus.”

Amity blinked, her gold eyes widening comically. “Like, the Theseus?”

The three of them nodded grimly, and Luz launched into the story about map reading and the bus ride from Indianapolis to Kansas City. When she finished, Amity’s face had gone ashen.

“That’s the third demigod rising from the dead to serve this man in the mountain. That is definitely not good.”

“I know you’ve been through a lot recently and I don’t want to push,” Luz began, and Amity’s face tightened. She knew she already had a feeling of what she was going to ask, but Luz’s curiosity had now gotten the better of her and there was no way she could stop the question now. “What happened in Colorado, Amity? What did Achilles want from you?”

Amity was quiet, and she reached down at her Southwest wrap and started picking at the pita. Luz wasn’t sure she was going to say anything at all, but then she started, and Luz and her friends were unable to stop themselves from leaning in eagerly.

“When I got to the mountain with Skara and Boscha, we thought we were going to face the man in the mountain… this Belos guy… right away. But before we even got up the mountain, there was some weird magic stopping us in our tracks. We couldn’t move. Our whole bodies started feeling cold, and even if we were in the mountains, it was way too cold for June. It started snowing, and I knew we needed to find shelter. It’s like this cave had appeared the second I had thought we needed it. When we went inside, Achilles was there waiting for us.”

Amity’s hands had begun to nervously climb up and rub her arms together. She looked lost in thought, and Luz didn’t want to push her to continue if she couldn’t. But then she steeled her expression and took a breath, and kept going.

“When we got there… Achilles looked directly at me. He called me ‘one half of the hero’. I had no idea what he was talking about… I thought he was calling me weak so I challenged him. That was such a mistake… he played at my pride and used it against me. When we were dueling, he leaned down right in my face and said that the prophecy would destroy me. I might have won if his words hadn’t rattled me so badly. I know the prophecy, I heard it and knew this quest was dangerous… but I hadn’t wanted to be the one to go down for it.”

She swallowed hard, and Luz had a hundred questions but it didn’t feel right to interrupt her right now.

“I thought after he captured me and sent Skara and Boscha away that I was dead for sure. I had almost lost all hope in anyone finding me… and then you three showed up and saved me despite all the terrible things I’ve done to you.”

Amity’s eyes had welled up, and Luz wondered if the tears were from terror, exhaustion, or relief. She turned to Willow and reached out with her hand to touch her arm. Willow didn’t flinch away, instead, she looked at Amity with wide, blinking eyes. Amity swallowed, looking shameful but also the most apologetic Luz had ever seen her.

“Willow, you were never too weak to be my friend. I was too weak to be yours. I can’t take back everything I did to you and Gus and Luz at camp, but I can promise that I will never let anybody hurt you guys ever again. I am so sorry.”

Willow paused, and Luz’s hands involuntarily went to her mouth. She couldn’t believe that this was the same Amity who had threatened to destroy her during capture the flag two weeks ago. After a moment, Willow blinked and tilted her head.

“I was listening to what you said before the monster attacked. I heard why you did it.” Her mouth twisted into the smallest of smiles. “I can’t say that we're friends just yet but… this is a start.”

Amity didn’t say anything, but the soft smile she gave Willow gave away just how relieved she was. Eventually, Gus and Luz were grinning too, and the tension broke like a knife. The four of them shared a couple more of the (very overpriced) Starbucks snacks they’d bought, and they talked and laughed about what Amity had missed at camp since she’d left for their quest, including the latest game of capture the flag where Edric had fallen into the creek and accidentally tripped the red team player running with the flag and accidentally won them the game. After the four of them had stopped laughing at the retelling of the story, Gus and Willow got to their feet.

Willow reached into her backpack and pulled out a baggie in the inside pocket. She fished around and pulled out three golden coins, and Luz gasped.“You’ve had gold all this time and we’ve been worried about money?”

Gus chuckled. “They’re golden drachma’s, Luz. “We should send an Iris Message to camp letting Eda and Lilith know that Amity is okay.”

“I saw a waterfall by the edge of the creek,” Willow said. “Where there’s a water flow, there’s a rainbow. Do you guys want to come?”

“As much as I’d love to hear from my siblings, I think I should probably rest,” Amity said, and Luz couldn’t have agreed more. Willow and Gus turned to Luz in question, and as much as Luz would have liked to hear from Eda, she didn’t like the idea of leaving Amity alone right now.

“You guys go, I’ll wait here.”

The two shared a glance, before shrugging. “Alright, we shouldn’t be too long,” Willow said, and Amity and Luz nodded to them in understanding. They got the code. If they were too long, they needed help.

As they left, Luz realized that she was once again alone with Amity. The two sat in quiet silence, it wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t steady either. The air seemed charged, and Luz realized it was because she was still itching with questions.

Unable to hold it back any longer, Luz finally felt like she could ask the question she’d been dying to know since Amity left.

“In the strawberry fields that morning, you’d asked me to watch after the camp,” Luz said, and Amity tensed, her hand freezing over the apple slice she was about to pop in her mouth. “Why did you ask me that of all people?”

Amity was quiet for only a couple of moments. Eventually, she put the apple slice down and looked up, her eyes conveying just how nervous she was to talk about this.

“The prophecy gave me some kind of indication that I would have to rely on other people besides the ones I knew well to finish the quest,” she said slowly, and Luz’s curiosity peaked. There it was again, that strange prophecy stuff. “I had been thinking so hard on it, that I felt like it couldn’t be a coincidence you were up that morning too. Then you told me about your dreams, and I knew something was off. Barcus’s prophecy had seemed so strange… like it told me nothing but everything all at once. You make me feel like that sometimes too. Like every time I look at you, there’s something big I’m missing just beyond my reach.”

Luz felt her face flush at the comment, and she knew it was because Amity had spoken just a little too freely. Luz got it, she really did, because Amity often made her feel the same way. Like that night of the skeleton attack when Amity had first opened up to her.

“When I got my prophecy, Barcus told me it was incomplete,” Luz said slowly. Amity blinked looking over at her in surprise. “He said that you’d only been given one half of it, and that I received the second part.”

As what Luz said began to process, Amity’s expression shifted from surprise to curiosity.

“A double prophecy? I’ve never heard of that happening before,” Amity mumbled, but her head was tilted curiously, so Luz smiled.

“Maybe if we each share our bit, we’ll understand the whole of it a little better!”

Amity suddenly got nervous, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know Luz… maybe your half is better than mine, but my prophecy wasn’t exactly optimistic.”

“That’s why you didn’t share it before you left?” Luz inquired, and Amity sighed.

“Yes.”

“But maybe the whole thing will sound better!” Luz tried, but Amity still looked nervous. Luz frowned, not understanding why Amity was being so hesitant.

“Look, my prophecy doesn’t exactly paint me in a very nice way,” Amity said, her face flushed. Luz realized she was now embarrassed, and her mouth dropped open in surprise. “I just… I don’t want you to judge me for it now that we actually seem to be getting along.”

Luz reached out reassuringly and put a hand on Amity’s arm. Amity’s face got, if possible, redder, the blush now reaching the tips of her ears.

“Whatever it is, I’m not going to judge you,” Luz promised, offering a white smile. “We’re in this together, remember?”

Amity paused for another moment before she nodded slowly. She opened her mouth and began to recite the lines.

“You shall go on a quest with those you hate calling friends,

From what you find in the nightmare, a hero’s life ends.”

Amity paused, her voice cracking on the last line. Luz winced as well. She had been hoping Theo was exaggerating about the “someone will die” part, but the prophecy seemed to be pretty clear. Luz did her best to steel her expression, not wanting to discourage Amity from continuing. It was like Eda said, prophecies can be misleading. They don’t always speak overtly. They could worry about this later. After a short pause, Amity continued.

“Left there alone, you cling to your past

Without better friends, your journey won’t last”

Amity finished her line, and Luz made a noise of understanding.

“I get why you didn’t want to share that,” she said gently, reaching out and wrapping her arm comfortingly around the other half-blood. Amity’s face was so red now it looked like she would pass out. Luz assumed this was from the nerve-wracking lines of the prophecy, so she squeezed her shoulder and smiled. “But the other half of the prophecy is a lot nicer. I’ll show you!”

Luz recited the lines as best she could from her memory.

“But with wisdom and life, the merchant travels and meets

The fallen heroes home, where they lose all their speech

It takes four to escape, and release the goddess caged

As a group restore peace, and dawn a new age.”

When she finished, she released her grip around Amity’s shoulders and grinned.

“See, we’re already off to a great start! It’ll take four of us to save Hestia, and now we have you on our side! Orpheus must have been the fallen hero since he used his lyre to not let us talk. So as a group, we’re going to save Olympus together!”

While Amity was not looking as upset as she was before, she was still biting her lip nervously.

“I don’t know, Luz. Don’t you think it all seems too good to be true?”

“There’s no such thing,” Luz insisted. “I won’t rest until we have this whole situation figured out. Repeat after me: we can fix this together!”

Amity sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck, a little blush appearing on her cheeks. “We can fix this together.”

Luz whooped in excitement, pumping her fist in the air. “Yeah, we can!”

#the owl house #lumity #luz x amity #Percy Jackson AU #shelby speaks

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itzagothamcitysiren · 4 years

Text

Welcome to the Family

Sorry for that late post, stupid was a superhero stressful day at work and I took a super long nap as soon as I got home. Also, this is kinda a filler chapter, just to kinda of give a look of the dynamic between her and Bruce. It’s not my best but I wanted to also use it to practice writing more action stuff. :)

There's a Web That You Have Wove pt.2

The night was cold and the air almost felt damp as Batman and Nightshade stood perked up atop a stack of cargo crates that lined the Gotham City docks. They were high enough to not be able to be seen from below but still had a good line of sight of below. Batman stood, silently, peering into his pair of high-tech binoculars. He surveyed the activity below, watching as goons unloaded the unaccounted for children out of a delivery truck. The Dark Knight began calculating a plan in his head as he watched them being led towards another truck. They had to act soon before their window was closed.

He folded the binoculars into themselves, placing them back in their spot on his utility belt. As they clipped on, he reached for his grappling hook, noting how Nightshade did the same as she was on the same page as him. Waiting for his orders, she moved forward from her spot behind him. He looked at her and then back to the scene below.

“We take them out before they leave the docks, we cannot lose that truck.” He said, knowing she didn’t need that many words to understand what had to be done.

Nightshade nodded, following her mentor down as he shot his grappling hook to swing below. She landed moments after him, noting the slight pause as the goons were thrown off by their arrival. They looked notably scared that Batman and his sidekick where now standing between both trucks, cutting them off from finishing their job. The pause felt longer than it really was as the first goon to react began to rapidly fire his gun at them.

Nightshade jumped out of the way of the spray of bullets, as Batman threw a batarang at the man’s gun, causing it to jam. She ducked behind a pile of crate before rolling out into a standing position. Nightshade then raced towards the truck that the kid’s had been loaded into as Batman found himself busy disarming the men attacking. Jumping up and off of a man, Nightshade kicked the gun out of his hand, bringing down a fist into his face as she pushed off of his chest. Flipping, she landed crouched down, swiping her leg out and knocking down another. She was back up on her feet and dodging more fists heading her way.

It looked like she was almost dancing as she avoid more fire effortlessly. This was practically baby stuff. She reached the truck, disarming the two man who’d been shooting at her. She was about to place her hand on the doors of the vehicle to make sure the kids were okay but the sound of an engine starting caught her attention. The truck came to life, the tires squeaking as it was floored forward.

“Fuck,” she cursed, shooting her grappling gun at it.

She heard Batman call out to her, telling her to wait for him. It wasn’t that he was struggling, that was far from the case. He had just taken the brunt of the onslaught of low-lives with guns. Normally he would’ve been mad at seeing his protégé not waiting and instead grappling a line to the truck, using it to pull herself to it. He knew she could handle herself and he said it himself that they couldn’t let the truck escape them. They’d never see those kids again if they did.

Nightshade felt the wind blow her hair about making her glad that she had decided to wear it up tonight as the truck veered towards the exit that lead into the city. She held onto the line, grasping the backdoor handles to keep herself from flaring about. She could hear the kids inside screaming as the truck broke through the gates. Once the vehicle somewhat settled she began to climb up the back and onto the roof.

She used her free hand to reach for her set of daggers she kept holstered on her lower arms, stabbing into the metal to keep her from being tossed off as the truck jerked to the side again, and turning into the streets. She crawled her way to the front of the truck, the wind hitting against her face as the truck picked up its speed. Taking a deep breathe, the adrenaline still fueling her, she hopped down and landed on the hood of the car. The driver hadn’t expected it and swerved his wheel to the right.

Hissing as he drove off the cars in the other lane, Nightshade used the momentum to toss herself sideways and towards the driver’s side door. Gripping on the mirror for balance, she pulled her fist back, bringing it into the window. Her knuckle guards on her gloves made a satisfying shatter and she reached her hand in.

“Pull over!” She shouted, gripping the wheel. She was met with him pulling out the gun he was hiding and aimed it point blank at her face. “Seriously?” She narrowed her eyes, not hesitating. Removing her hand from the wheel she grabbed the hand holding the gun, pointing it up watching as the bullet lodged itself into the ceiling.

She heard the sound of a reeving engine, and quickly turned her attention behind her, smirking as she saw the Batmobile approaching. The driver’s eyes darted to his side mirrors, panic setting in as he saw the Batmobile right behind him. He wasn’t getting paid enough for this.

Nightshade used the driver’s now distracted state to reach back in with her other hand, pulling herself inside. She was practically straddling the guy but didn’t care as she pushed the gun to the floor on the passenger side and put her fist to his neck. In one swift motion, a small tranquilizer dart jotted out of the armored gauntlet she wore. As the man struggled to now stay awake, panicking as the girl turned around on top of him, sitting on his lap. She pressed her foot on the break, hands grasping onto the steering wheel as she did so.

The man saw one of her knives holstered to her hip and used the last of his strength to grab for it. He felt the handle in his grasps and stabbed it forward, feeling pleased at it now was lodged into her thigh. Nightshade gasped, losing control of the wheel as she felt the pain shooting up her leg. Now slamming on the break, she tossed her head back, cracking skulls with the asshole sat underneath her. She felt him be knocked out cold finally and let the truck creak to a stop.

“Ow,” She muttered, putting the truck in park, she let her head fall onto the wheel.

She could hear the sound of cop cars approaching and knew that that was her cue to leave. Opening the door, she sluggishly dropped down from the car. Her feet landed on the concrete causing a jolt of pain to shot up to her thigh. She didn’t remove the knife, not wanting to make the bleeding worse until she was in the batmobile at least. She noted Batman approaching, opening the back doors of the truck. The children peered at him, still all frozen with fear. Police cars soon surrounded them, causing her to quicken her pace.

She hopped into the open door, slamming it shut as she got in. Before taking the knife out, she reached forward into one of the compartments inside, pulling out a first aid kit kept for emergency. She took out what she needed to wrap it quickly and then ripped the blade out. Wincing from the sharp movement she bit her lip as she went straight into wrapping the fabric bandage around her thigh.

It wasn’t until a handful of minutes later did Batman join her, handing off the kid’s and information to Jim Gordon the moment he arrived. He pulled away from the scene, sending a message to Alfred to prepare the medical area.

“I’ll be fine.” She gritted her teeth, tying off the bandage. Her healing factor would kick in within the next couple hours and she’d been fine by tomorrow. The wound wasn’t that serious. “It was my fault. I should’ve been quicker.”

Batman stood silent, only giving her a curt nod. Tonight had gone smoother than past nights and he couldn’t help but dwell on it. Even with this slight hiccup, he was satisfied with her handling of the situation when it went array. He’d become so accustomed to the chaos that ensured normally and knew why tonight had gone differently than others. He felt bad for admitting it, but he couldn’t help but let the thought cross his mind.

Halley looked forward, slowly peeling her mask off her face and rubbing her eyes with her hands. The adrenaline gone now and the stinging feeling becoming extremely noticeable. Wincing, she shifted, trying to get comfy as they headed back to the cave. She let her eyes peek at Bruce as the car stood in silence.

He looked like his regular brooding self and she quickly looked back down at her lap. She’d still yet talk to Bruce about how she believed he should let Jason back out on patrol. It’d been almost a full week and she didn’t know how much longer she could take Jason’s attitude about being completely left out of this case. It wasn’t her fault he didn’t take instruction well, he didn’t have to take it out on her.

“So,” she bit her lip, trying to find the courage to address her thoughts to him. Once she saw she had Bruce’s attention, she continued. “When do you think Jason will be able to come back out?”

She crunched her nose up at how lamely it sounded as it left her mouth. Clearing her throat she added, “I mean, now that this is over.” Nope, still lame.

“I know he’s been skipping school again. I have to go to the school tomorrow for another meeting with your principal about it.” Bruce grunted, turning down towards their secret road once they reached the outskirts of the city. “Once he can prove-,”

“He only skips because you,” she cut him off, before quickly slamming her mouth shut. She’d didn’t mean to cut him off, but she was sick of Bruce constantly knocking Jason down. Was he this hard on Dick when he was Robin? She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand when she saw Bruce’s lip form a straight line and his eyes narrow. Heart beating fast she hurriedly continued,

“Sorry that came out wrong. What I meant was, that he acts this way because he feels like you’re just brushing him off. He just wants to prove himself to you.” She said softly, playing with her hands.

“He needs to learn discipline.” Bruce retorted.

Halley nodded, agreeing. She was surprised Bruce was actually having this conversation with her. They had a decent relationship but she wouldn’t say they were close or anything like that. They’ve had conversations in the past but mostly about their night job. He’d sometimes asked about how she was adjusting with school and stuff like that when he did actually join them for dinner but that was about it. She didn’t know that much about him, so this conversation felt awkward to her but she knew this was a conversation she needed to have for Jason’s sake.

“I agree. But each time you bench him, his confidence gets knocked down a peg and then he comes back making the same mistakes, sometimes worse.” She retorted right back. She sighed, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to question you. I just don’t think this method is helping him.”

She felt like she had pushed her limits when he didn’t respond to her after she spoke. Biting the inside of her cheek, she just sat in silence for the rest of the car ride. Great job, Halley.

She barely slept as the exchange played through her head all night. What if she made things worse? What if Bruce talked to Jason and Jason would be even madder at her for talking to Bruce about it? It plagued her thoughts all day during school as well, now it being her turn to avoid Jason at all costs. She just wanted to go home and on patrol so she could knock out her frustration on the filth of Gotham.

Much to Alfred’s protests, Halley insisted she was fine to go to school the next day and even to go on patrol the next night. Her stab wound healed overnight, and was only a little mark by the time school was over. Alfred relented as she showed him the spot before she put her costume on. She chuckled as he rolled his eyes at her before walking off to monitor the batcomputer.

She went to finish changing, pulling out the rest of her uniform from his case. She began pull up the black spandex suit, zipping it up. Putting on the different parts of armor, she fastened them tightly. As she began clipping on her different weapons, making sure her darts were up well stocked up, she heard footsteps approaching the changing area. Looking up she smiled, seeing Jason walking over.

He opened the case holding his uniform, peeling off his shirt and jeans so he could change. Even though she’d seen him changing before, she still looked away to hide her blush. It wasn’t that she had feelings for him or anything, she was still unaccustomed to the opposite sex. She never had friends growing up and the thought of boys had never crossed her mind. Even with that being said she could admit that Jason was in fact a good looking guy.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, smirking as he pulled his pants up.

“Bruce is letting me back on patrol.” He couldn’t hid the smile on his face. “He actually said he was sorry for kicking me off.”

Halley smiled, smugly. She wouldn’t tell him about the talk she had with Bruce the night before. Jason looked so excited that Bruce was letting him back on his own accord, she didn’t want him to think any differently. He already spent too much time questioning how Bruce felt about him and if he found out she was the reason Bruce let him back, well she just didn’t want to take that away from him.

#Jason Todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x sister!reader #Dick Grayson x batsis #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batbros #batman fanfiction #batfam x batsis #batfam x reader

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blonde-in-charge · 3 years

Text

Wildcard (Steve) Chapter Two

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this adaptation of Wildcard for all my Steve readers. Please let me know if you enjoy it!

Summary: Steve Rodgers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson

Warnings: Mentions of blood/violence, Scars, Bed sharing

Words: 1.5k

Link to put yourself on the taglist

It all happened so fast you barely registered that your body swung into action. You grabbed the assailant's arm and twisted the knife out of their hand before jumping up and wrapping your thighs around their neck. The man struggled clutching at your thighs, he slammed his back against the wall in an attempt to break your grip. Your head was pounding and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. You used all the momentum you had to swing your body downwards with the man wrapped in between your legs to slam him into the ground. The assailant was unphased and finally managed to rip you off of his back and neck. You fell to the ground but scrambled to get up as quickly as possible. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see the outline of the man as he stalked around you. You turned and sprinted down the hallway into the living area and kitchen and heard the man follow close behind. You ran full speed at one of the support beams and kicked off of it to throw yourself at him. The man grabbed your throat out of mid air and threw you to the ground, knocking the air from your lungs. You were being held by your throat against the cold tile, you struggled with the man as he brought the knife to your throat. Clawing at his hand to try and release yourself, your vision started to fade to black. You haven't registered the elevator ding in the distance, or the heavy footsteps of someone running to you. The man above you disappeared as he was thrown off of you, you rolled over onto your side and sucked in a deep breath of fiery air. Your eyes had disappeared into flames that lit up the scene in front of you. Steve skillfully dodged every one of the assailants' advances on him, he drew back his arm and punched the man so hard he slammed into the wall behind him. You pushed yourself up off of the kitchen floor and walked to stand over the unconscious man. The generator kicked back on, making the lights flicker back to life. You let your eyes extinguish as you looked up at Steve, meeting his angry eyes that dissolved into concern as he took in your bruised figure. You sighed loudly and braced your hands against the island in the middle of the kitchen, you looked down over your appearance. Your old sweatshirt was torn down the right side exposing your burn scars from when you were captured. You heard more footsteps from down the hallway and you turned to meet Tony, Natasha, and Bucky, all three of them ran in ready to fight.

Bucky looked down at the man on the ground and then back at you, “What the hell happened here?”

You huffed out a laugh and threw your hands up, “Someone tried to murder me, you know casual life of an Avenger.” You walked over to the man on the floor and checked the pockets of his clothes, pulling out an identification card to a russian facility, HYDRA. You sucked in a breath and turned the card to show Steve, his eyes widened as you threw the card towards Bucky. You sighed and walked past them, “I’m going to bed.” You ignored the faint replies of your teammates as you walked towards your own bedroom. The door slid open and you took one step into your room before freezing. Your eyes scanned over your room, once neat and tidy, now looked as if a bomb had gone off. Your clothes scattered across the bed and floor, the sheets were ripped off of the mattress, files were scattered across your desk and floor. You backed out of the room silently and made your way down the hallway, and walked into the next bedroom. You entered the room, the smell of leather welcoming you. You opened the chest of drawers and pulled out an old grey tee shirt. You ripped the torn sweatshirt over your head and threw it to the side. You threw your sports bra aside and pulled the tee shirt over your head. You stepped out of the leggings and placed them in the hamper. You sat down in front of the desk, tracing the various marks of charcoal and paint. You reached out for the sketchbook, admiring the sketches of the city's skyline. You turned the page and stopped, your fingers grazing across the picture before you. It was a rough sketch of you sitting against the window in the living area, looking out into the street. You closed the book and sat back in the chair, tracing the initials S.R. on the front of the book. You stood from the chair and walked over to the large bed, burying yourself in the heavy comforter. You remained silent as you heard the door slide open and footsteps approach the bed. Steve peered over the mountain of blankets you were in and smiled slightly at you.

“Hey, kid. How are you feeling?” He pulled the blankets back to reveal your body as he started scanning you for injuries. His eyes fell on the deep purple bruise around your neck that was slowly fading as your body healed itself. You were sure your shoulder blades were bruised from being thrown against the wall and floor, but you ignored the discomfort. You grabbed for the covers remaining silent as you pulled them back up. Steve ran one hand through his blonde hair before continuing, “The man who broke in was a Hydra operative, he is in our custody and will be interrogated tomorrow. My guess is he was sent to find you or Buck, by the looks of your room, I think it's you.” You watched him pace as he spoke, you could tell he was nervous.

You never had to ask Steve to stay in his room anymore. Sometimes you would just come in, without saying a word and he knew you needed him. You hated to admit you were attached to Steve, he was the reason you haven't spun out of control. You watched Steve quietly as he undressed, getting ready for bed. You turned on your side towards the side of the bed Steve slept on. He circled the bed, “Friday, lights off please.”

“Goodnight, Captain.” The voice replied

The lights flicked off and Steve slid into bed, facing you. “Talk to me, I can’t read your mind in the dark.” The comment made you give out a sharp exhale that functioned as a laugh, Steve always seemed to know what you were thinking when he looked into your eyes. You had some sort of unspoken way of communication between the both of you.

You looked at Steve in the dark, “What if they are trying to take me back?” You voiced your fears out loud to the soldier, nothing really scared you anymore except the thought of being taken back to that god forsaken place.

Steve watched your outline in the dark, looking for the right words to say. He wanted to help you, tell you he would never let another soul lay another finger on you but he couldn't promise that. He reached out and pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “I will do everything in my power to protect you.” You nodded at him silently and turned onto your back, “Please try and get some sleep, kid.”

You felt Steve shit over to you, he had flipped over on his stomach and moved close enough to where your sides were touching. He did this always for you, so you would feel grounded. You closed your eyes and tried to time your breathing with the soldier, counting each one.

Forever tags:

@pumpkenz

Wildcard Tags:

@lhiamelona-blog @buckyyyybaby

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #Steve Rogers x Female Reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #marvel imagine

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excuseme-youpretty · 4 years

Text

Ecstasy

Pairing: Kim Taehyung / Reader

Side Pairings: None

Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2935

Notes: Yet again, this was requested as a prompt by my sister. The theme for this prompt was “Curiosity Shop” but I thought the title “Ecstasy” fit the overall story better. I hope you guys all enjoy!

I also haven’t proofread anything so I apologise for any mistakes!

Days as effortlessly romantic as today will always be your favourite way to express your relationship.

Certainly, there is plenty of merit to be found within those lazy afternoons, your body sprawling across a canvas of clean cotton and your lover’s thighs embroidering your own. Where his hands perfectly frame your pelvis and his soft sleepy breaths puff across your cheekbones like dandelion seeds as dawn dissolves around you.

But the moments where you can showcase how breathtakingly beautiful your fiance is, and how perpetually charming, by showing him off to the unwitting universe will always be your ultimate favourite.

Because you are absolutely certain that Kim Taehyung is the epitome of ecstasy; the word defined in the bladed architecture of his cheekbones and a smile which is a little too goofy for his godlike exterior. He can read your soul as though it were poetry - where to touch you, how to kiss you, what words to pull from his gilded tongue to make your toes curl upwards.

Yet, his particular brand of affectionate indulgence does not necessarily reside in over the top means of appreciation. There is no triumphant fanfare or elephant-lead parade (although, you are certain that Taehyung would arrange such a feat at a moment's notice if that was what you craved).

No, Taehyung's adoration can be found in the smallest of expressions; petite gestures which remind you that you are eternally loved.

On this particular morning, Taehyung had pried you from your sleep with a smattering of baby-breath kisses across your face and shoulders, his wide-set smile expanding considerably as soon as your lashes had fluttered open.

He had harmonized his love into your tilted collarbones and presented you with a warm, fresh from the oven croissant and foam-tipped latte from your favourite bakery down the street. His impossibly long fingertips had chorded through your hair as you both ate in comfortable silence, perfectly attuned to an orchestra of birdsong resonating just outside your window.

Only once every single crumb had been polished off did Taehyung, regretfully, tug himself from your side. He had somersaulted toward your bathroom, his strides wide and perfectly chaotic, as he fumbled around with the convoluted dials on your shower to ensure the downpour would reach the perfect temperature for your bodies to intertwine underneath.

After an onslaught of strawberry-scented suds, and the 'accidental' wade of Taehyung's fingertips taking an exploratory turn across your chest, he had carefully pulled you from your shower to drape you in a large towel, wicking all moisture from your skin in a few eager strokes.

You had perched on the precipice of your mattress as Taehyung threw your closet doors open, scanning the entirety of your wardrobe with his lips pursed in concentration. It didn't happen often, but whenever your man would take it upon himself to correspond his wardrobe with yours it would always leave a fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen; like television static, only sweeter.

On this occasion he had settled on a white blouse to match his own pristine dress shirt, similar light-washed jeans, and an adorable indigo purse which coordinated perfectly with the heavily-patterned scarf knotted against his throat.

You had just barely finished dabbing perfume against your clavicle when Taehyung had enthusiastically tugged you out toward his car, his lips curling wetly against your own to silence any reservations you may have had about this seemingly impromptu rendezvous.

He simply asked you to trust him, his ringed fingers clicking pretty against the radio dial as he thumbed Sam Smith's satin-spun vocals to an all-time high.

Just like that you were driving through Korea's technicolor streets without a care in the world. Pure ecstasy.

And that is how you found yourself in your current position hours later.

Taehyung's fingertips are unfathomably long where they loop throughout your own, pouring like honey across your knuckles, and somehow gathering enough momentum to swing pendulously between your bodies.

Across his other wrist Taehyung balances an abundance of overstuffed shopping bags from the various outlets dotted throughout the mall. You lean virtually all of your weight against him, your stomach full of the most exquisite lunch and a plastic straw caught between your teeth to savour your second mango-passionfruit smoothie of the afternoon.

Sometimes being in love with Taehyung is utterly exhausting; a permanent fixture of motion and charisma and effortless conversations which always leave you a little tongue-tied and high on his natural dopamine.

And yet, you wouldn't have him any other way.

"Hey, Tae? Can we maybe take a rest for a minute?" You sigh sweetly, nestling your cheek comfortably against Taehyung's domed bicep. "My feet are killing me."

"Of course, Jagi!"

Taehyung guides you toward the large terracotta fountain poised proudly within the mall's centre. You perch against the cool stone, with Taehyung placing your shopping bag collection aside to join you, and sigh softly as he lifts your aching feet from your pointed heels to caress his long fingers around your tender instep.

He massages your skin softly, dissolving all discomfort through persistent compression and a voice as smooth as buttercream. His lips seek out the plush of your temple, tucking away the loose strands of hair he finds with the tip of his nose.

Taehyung's heartbeat carries a natural percussion with tones akin to tinkling wind chimes and every bit as delicate. You find yourself overwhelmed by the collaborative sensations of sound, rhythm and his earthy cologne.

You lean into your fiance's torso. Another blissful sigh flutters past your lips and across the sticky straw compressed between your teeth. With your head tipped back, you allow your lidded gaze to slowly scan your nearby surroundings.

Amidst a monotonous canvas of granite stone and whitewashed brick sits a peculiar storefront. A flash of jade woodwork, with wide stain-glass windows and what appeared to be a hand-carved door decorated by spray painted poison ivy decals.

The facade, although surreal and whimsically furnished, is definitely new. You can't help but find yourself drawn toward it like an energetic moth flouncing toward an open flame; the clash of pigment as stark as a gilded leaf amidst a blanket of snow.

"Tae?" You muse, listening for his small hum of acknowledgment before you continue. "This is new, right? I don't think I've seen it here before."

Taehyung lifts his head to follow your gaze, a sunkissed curtain falling in front of his vision as he does so. He puckers his lips in thought.

"You're right. 'Quirks and Curiosities'. I wonder what they sell there?"

"Hm. My money is on obscure trinkets. Like the type of stuff Jungkook collects in that shoebox underneath his bed."

"Well, in that case!" Taehyung grins, the corners of his mouth stretched skyward. "We absolutely have to go in."

He springs forward onto the balls of his feet with a small, barely noticeable squeal of pure delight, carefully grasping at the marginally empty cup in your hands to toss the dregs into a nearby garbage can.

He helps you back onto your feet, guiding your soothed soles into your leatherette heels once again. The visual makes you giggle fondly.

In spite of his buoyant bleach-blonde curls and tanzanite contacts, he really does resemble an animated prince falling into a whirlwind romance orchestrated by fate itself.

"Come on, Jagiya! Lets see what we can find."

Taehyung tugs impishly upon your linked fingers as he gathers your shopping bags within his spare wrist. You roll your eyes and chastise him for his infantile excitement, but you cannot deny that his palpable enthusiasm is utterly contagious.

The pretty tinkle of polished wind-chimes twirling against one and other is the first stimulant you are met with as soon as you toe across the threshold of Quirks and Curiosities. The second is an overwhelming scent of sandalwood and crisp clean cotton.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the sudden light change, all springtime luminescence transforming into something dim and tinted violet from the many mismatched lamps strung overhead.

A plethora of beaded curtains brush by your cheekbones as Taehyung draws you further into the annex of the shop. There are several shelves, each one littered by an array of unique antiques and special oddities which pique your interest.

Your fiance appears similarly hypnotized. His eyes are wide, sparkling as vibrantly as blossoming constellations, as he runs his impossibly long fingertips over the top of a large bronze cattle statuette.

Briefly, your mind is seized by the notion of how much Namjoon would enjoy such a place. All of the unique figurines he could acquire to bolster his ever-expanding collection. But your thoughts are quick to sober; Kim Namjoon in close proximity with anything fracturable is never a good idea.

As Taehyung becomes enraptured by what appears to be a pair of large peacock-feather earrings, you break away from his side to go exploring on your own, making sure to press a small but affectionate kiss against his neck in passing.

You nod courteously at the petite woman poised patiently behind the counter, her kind eyes creased in genuine warmth at the small interaction witnessed between yourself and your fiance. Your stomach flip-flops as a blush seeps across your cheekbones. It always stokes a fire deep within your stomach when your relationship with Taehyung is not only acknowledged, but also treated with respect.

There was once a time when you had deemed yourself unworthy of his advances, of the sweet words which would drip like caramel from his tongue and explorative hands which would hold your body oh so tight. But he had smothered those insecurities underneath a pair of the prettiest puppy-dog eyes you had ever seen and now, with this friendly stranger recognizing your partnership as beautiful causes your insides to glow.

Absentmindedly running your thumb and forefinger over the cool band of your engagement ring, you divert your attention toward one of the more colourful displays.

A kaleidoscope of pretty scarves dangle from mismatched hangers, their metallic threads shimmering underneath the dim lamplight and silken tassels catching every little breeze which passes by like party streamers caught in the air.

Underneath them, a small collection of beautiful coin purses are dotted in a row. Some of them have been hand-stitched into complex creases whilst others carry reflective sequins and enhanced beading.

But what really captures your attention is a trio of beautifully displayed fans, each perched upon a small wooden plinthe and spread open to showcase their intimate details and exquisite craftsmanship.

One of them in particular, the largest in the collection, leaves you momentarily transfixed. It is broad and colourful; a distinct lavender hue ombreing out toward filigree lace corrugations. Embroidered butterflies spread their wings across the textured surface of the fan, some soaring sky high whilst others dip their proboscis into a bouquet of flowers so elaborately detailed that you can practically smell their tantalizing sweetness.

Sparing a brief glance over your shoulder toward the adorable shopkeep who had regarded you so kindly, receiving a nod of encouragement in response, you reach out and carefully pluck the large fan from its plinthe as soon as she grants you permission to do so.

It feels light within your palm, decorative lace tickling your cheek as you bring it close. You focus on the sunkissed crown of Taehyung's hair, on his deliciously deep voice waxing poetic about the pair of earrings now dangling from between his knuckles.

"Tae?" You hum, wafting the fan against your cheeks.

"Yes, Jagiya?"

He turns on the spot, his oval eyes softening as soon as he witnesses the weave of your hips wandering toward him and the clash of purple against your honeyed complexion.

"Ah, what do we have here?" He hums, holding a hand out toward you.

You teeter into his presence, slowly directing your fan around your body in a deliberate semi-circle, and pitch your voice a fraction higher.

"I'm so fine wherever I go~" You mewl, imitating your beloved friend with a lot less skill and precision than Jimin himself would offer.

Still, it causes Taehyung's smile to expand; pulls an abundance of impish giggles from his throat like popcorn kernels puffing up.

"Much better than Jimin-ssi!" Taehyung cackles, clapping his hand against his inner wrist to prevent damaging the pretty earrings he holds. "But if you tell him I said that, I'll only deny it."

"I understand. Soulmate priorities."

"Exactly!"

Taehyung pulls your body close to his own, his palm pressing snug against your tailbone. His lips make quick work of your flushed cheeks, kissing across elevated bone and pausing to rest on the tippity tip of your crinkled nose.

"Ah, I love you." He sighs.

Foregoing any chance for the sentiment to be echoed, Taehyung opts instead to guide you toward the cash register to pay for your newly coveted trinkets.

"Good afternoon!" Taehyung sing-songs, bowing politely. "I would like to purchase these earrings." He slides the jewellery in question across the counter, fingertips twitching as though he dreaded letting the unusual accessory go. "And my beautiful fiancee seems to have fallen in love with this stunning fan."

Before you have a chance to offer up your purchase for her eyes to evaluate the attendant's fingers are dancing expertly across the raised keys of her cash register, its numbers as faded and timeless as the adorable knicknacks which surround you. There is a small ping! as the drawer pops open, but Taehyung is quick to press a handful of crisp bills into the woman's hand before she can signify any total.

Part of you knows that you should object to Taehyung's unique brand of generosity. That he has already done far too much for you over the course of your relationship; especially today with his impromptu shopping spree and fancy luncheon.

But you also know that Taehyung would object. That he would unravel his bottom lip in an emboldened pout that will leave you breathless whilst he insists that he needs to more. And it always culminates in him going above and beyond to spoil you far more than is necessary.

So instead you tuck your smile into the mapwork of Taehyung's shoulder and attempt to hex away the heat which swirls like lava beneath your skin.

After all, it is quite exhilarating to be worshiped by the man who maintains ownership of your entire heart and soul. Why not indulge, at least a little, if it makes you both happy?

"Please, keep the change." Taehyung insists, and when the shopkeep inhales a sharp breath of surprise you feel your heart swell with pride.

After tucking his wallet back within the confined of his far-too-tight jeans, your fiance gathers the small bag containing his newly purchased earrings and loops it in place over his wrist where it joins countless others. He braids an arm around your midsection and you both thank the friendly employee one final time before returning to the sterile ceramics of the bustling shopping mall.

The sound of water slapping loudly against cool tile and an abundance of discarded wish-laced pennies almost feels too chaotic in comparison to the impenetrable silence that Quirks and Curiosities had seemingly perfected.

Your eyes take a minute to adjust to the sudden influx of concentrated light as your pupils shrink from necessary dilation back to their regular size. Still, your vision burns, and you find yourself raising your fan toward your eyes out of instinct alone, hoping to disperse some of the rays which trickle like honey between your eyelashes.

Taehyung watches the display with an overt fondness.

"You know, I'm thinking we might have made a huge mistake in buying that fan for you, Jagi."

You squint at him in confusion. "Why?"

"Just think of all the terrible jokes Jin-hyung will make as soon as we get home."

You give pause. Attempt to mentally condition yourself for a persistent circus of 'perfect fan' and 'fan-tastic' puns before they arrive. And if you concentrate hard enough you can just barely make out Seokjin's telltale laugh like perfectly-manicured nails on a chalkboard.

You ignore the urge to cringe. Because, as irritating as his poorly conceived jokes can be at times, you simply wouldn't want your Jin any other way.

"Worth it." You muse, whipping your fan enthusiastically in front of your face.

Taehyung grins, pulling your body against his own so that he may press a kiss to your mouth. He lingers, his neatly-sculpted cupid's bow clinging to your lower lip as he autographs his name on your flesh with a brief - albeit deliberate - catch of his teeth on tongue-warmed skin.

You sigh as soon as you part from each other, your fingernails finding purchase on his silken neck scarf to keep him from straying too far.

"I love you, Tae." You purr, tilting your head back just far enough so that he can glide the tip of his nose against your own.

"I love you more, Jagi."

Taehyung presses a fingertip to your mouth before you can attempt to protest his ludicrous, and frankly defamatory, statement.

"Now, come on. It's time to buy my future wife some pretty new shoes! Ones that don't hurt her poor feet quite as much."

Once again you are completely susceptible to his bewildering enthusiasm.

And as Taehyung draws you past the large fountain you had once taken solace in, pausing to capture the very moment that his lips had burned an entire midsummer sunset across the underside of your jawline, residual thoughts from your morning return to you with picturesque clarity.

Kim Taehyung really is the epitome of ecstasy.

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