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dcxdpdabbles · 28 days ago

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DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Not My Business

Danny Fenton develops a unique set of skills throughout his life. He knew how to disarm a bomb when he was seven, thanks to his Dad making minebombs in the front yard as a ghost defense. (They only covered humans in ecto-goo, but it was the same concept of not wanting to have it explode on him)

He knew how to fight with a bo-staff only because he had to fight off the meals his parents brought back to life with a broom. He knew how to balance a checkbook, file tax forms, and properly build credit by the time he was ten, thanks to the years his parents ran a business at the kitchen table.

His sister taught him how to charm rude customers with a smile, how to lie without flinching, and how to complete all his assignments on time, despite having only a few hours to do so. She spent a lot of time volunteering, often dragging him along, which allowed Danny to build up his resume with both soft and hard skills he likely would never have thought there was a name for.

Problem-solving, teamwork, communication, time management, adaptability, data analysis, cybersecurity, data entry, and copywriting were the skills that Jazz focused on the most. She all but beat them into his head.

Along with cooking, sewing, basic plumbing, basic mechanics, and budgeting. Jazz was the one who looked for practical abilities.

That left time for his mom and dad to teach him things like forging, combat training, reprogramming everyday objects into weaponry, defending his position before a board for grant money, turning everyday household liquids into knock-out gas, and how to talk his way out of traffic tickets.

Not to mention everything he learn as Phantom.

Danny knew how to verify jewels and gold due to the years spent in the ghost zone fighting off pirates and treasure hunters. Phantom's reputation made him a target for many ghosts who wanted to add his rarity to their collections.

How to command a room, then a town, and finally an army. Diplomatic missions increased in number as he began meeting with the leaders of various sectors within the Ghost Zones.

Really, Danny didn't make a whole lot of sense, if anyone bothered to ask him how he came to this set of skills. The thing was, unlike the rest of his family, Danny was far too reserved to show them off. He edged the line of shyness from a young age, which sometimes bled into reclusive tendencies.

He didn't get anxious from social interactions; he just didn't feel like seeking them out. Sam and Tucker felt a similar way, as they were always willing to talk to a stranger, but they tried to branch out of their safe little bubble to make friends rather than acquaintances. Then the summer between sophomore and junior year happened.

Sam, Danny, and Tucker left tenth grade as plain losers only to arrive in junior with a splash.

The trio noticed that people were staring at them more intensely than they had been before. That they were used to, what they weren't used to was that the stares were not mocking or dismissive.

It was odd, but it didn't click on why that was until winter break, and more specifically, Star's Holiday party.

Ever since the fourth grade, Star hosted the biggest party of their generation. Her parents owned the local fun center, which featured indoor kart racing, laser tag, arcade games, paintball, and virtual reality pods. Everyone tripped over themselves to be given an invitation as she offered a full day and night of free entertainment at the center.

It always ended with wild stories of teenage fun that Danny always wanted to see in person, rather than hearing about in the hallways the next day. Not that everyone in their grade went. The invitation list was super selective (Star's parents did lose a lot of profit for letting their daughter do that)

You either received an invitation from the party girl herself, or you were asked to be a plus one, which was just as much of an honor as it was a symbol of social status among the teenage population of Amity Park.

The trio was never invited, which is why they were already making their way to the student parking lot when Star stood in the courtyard, holding up the scarred envelopes. Inside them was the bracelet that one had to scan at the door of her center to let people in. It was how her father ensured only the agreed-upon guests stayed at that number.

In the middle of making plans for hot chocolate at Sam's favorite poetry slam cafe, Star had run at Tucker's car, practically falling over to knock on his window. Danny had never been so confused in his life as his friend rolled down his window to arch a brow at the girl.

She stuttered her way through a pathetic request for fashion advice that Tucker easily answered in two sentences. Sam snickered as Star seemed unsure what to do with Tucker's lack of interest in her or her popularity.

Ever since Tucker started focusing more on his self-confidence and joined the fashion community, he hadn't been so girl-crazy nor as desperate to get one's attention.

Just as Danny reminded Tucker that other cars were waiting for them to clear the road, Star had pushed three envelopes into the driver's hand and run off with a red face.

Tucker stared at the envelopes in his hands with a wild look that both Sam and Danny shared. They slowly kicked their brains back into gear when an angry honk from the car behind them sounded, and they ended up silently driving the cafe, still in a daze.

Jazz laughed herself silly when they rang her up to ask if she thought it was a trick (Sam was sure they were going to be Carrie-ed), a mistake (Danny insisted Star had gone to the wrong car, but due to the tinting, didn't realize until it was too late). Or a genuine invitation (Tcuker had always been the most optimistic of the three).

"Haven't you three ever wondered why Spectra used emotion-based ectoplasm for her appearance?" She giggled, "It makes people hot. And you guys literally spend all summer in the Ghost Zone during your internships, feeling human emotions while being exposed to natural ectoplasm. You three came back looking good."

That was a shock.

The summer apprenticeships had been a compromise between Sam and her parents. They were growing tired of her not growing out of her "phase" and were threatening to send her to a military camp to straighten her out.

Thankfully, Jazz had stepped in, brilliantly changing their minds into allowing the college student to match Sam up with a well-known friend as a mentor. She even threw Danny and Tucker into her "program" to further show that it was just what Sam needed to stop her from being a troubled teen.

Since only Maddie and Jack knew about Phantom, it took some effort among all of them to create fake websites and legitimate-looking summer programs before Sam, Tucker, and Danny arrived in the Ghost Zone in different vehicles to spend their summers. It helped that Ghostwriter owed them a favor, and he brought the programs to life.

Danny was learning medical practices of various species with Frostbite. Sam was with Princess Dorathea, learning how to govern and manage a large estate. Tucker had taken Wulf up on his offer to join him through the Ghost Zone's wildness, allowing Tucker to experience life off-screen and learn more about animals.

Jazz had said she placed them out of their comfort zones, but with trusted ghosts that could help them build well-rounded characters. At first, it wasn't for them, but the trio found themselves falling in love with their activities.

By the time they came back, they had many stories and exceptional skills to share with their parents. Sam's parents weren't happy she was still a goth, but they did appreciate her newfound determination to connect with them and her interest in running companies like the family business.

Tucker's parents were amazed by the muscles he gained and how he started to limit his screen time. He still loves his tech, but now he was branching out into fashion, helping out around the house, and appreciating animals and nature like never before.

Maddie and Jack watched as Danny grew more empathic while becoming more sure of what to do in stressful situations. Confidence that their son desperately needed had been gifted to him over the summer. He no longer lowered his eyes or slouched, even if his awkwardness lingered a bit.

That apparently made them hot? Yes, it did.

At Star's party, even though the three kept to themselves, laughing and hanging out as normal, people were constantly attempting to talk to them or simply flushing whenever they made eye contact. Danny, Sam, and Tucker all agreed that they no longer wanted to be popular.

They stay firmly behind unbreakable walls even as the party skyrocketed them to the same level of popularity as the A-listers (they refused to join the club). The three were more excited to return to their summer internships the following summer.

By the time graduation rolled around, Danny, Sam, and Tucker had been voted the most attractive and the most likely to succeed. They were a new type of untouchable royalty walking the halls of Casper High.

It came as no surprise that their resumes and internships got them offers from various colleges, not to mention their looks. Jazz, by that point, was still working on her degree at Gotham U, so the three chose to go there.

Danny was studying to become a doctor, Sam was in business, and Tucker chose computer sciences. They had moved into a house that Sam's parents bought for them, allowing Jazz to move out of the dorms into the spare room. Things were going great for a while, living in the big city and being adults on their own for the first time.

Then Danny applied for an internship at Martha Wayne Memorial Hospital in the administrative area- Sam convinced him it would be a good way to get a foot in the door when he applied to medical school. He needed someone to write him rec letters.- And one night, when he was working late on data entry, he happened to see Batman's maskless fall out of a portal produced by a trenchcoat man.

The trenchcoat man carried Batman to the abandoned operating room that had been left behind when they remodeled the place and converted it into offices, followed by the rest of the Bats. Their faces were covered entirely, but it did not hide their worry as they rushed to catch up with the pair.

A woman wearing scrubs pushed through the portal and the group of masked heroes, barking out orders to prepare the room.

There was a magic spell wrapped around the group that typically would have made them invisible, and erase their importance in the mind of whoever looked at them, as if they were from a forgotten dream. Still, Danny's ecto contamination made him immune to the spell, so he witnessed the whole thing.

Huh. Bruce Wayne was Batman. Neat.

Danny figured it wasn't his business and turned back to his two monitors to finish the Excel spreadsheet he was working on. He later left after saving his work, ignoring the fact that he now knew why the operating room had been left untouched, despite having all that technology on standby.

He would get home, mention it over a plate of reheated pizza, while Tucker would be working on an essay due at midnight. His best friend would shrug, claiming his own ectoplasim had made him immune to Poison Ivy's plants- they were shockingly similar to some of the plants Wulf and he encountered in the Ghost Zone- and had seen Red Robin's face after the man had been sprayed in the face and some of the powder lingered on his mask.

Apparently, Tucker's midnight essay writing had given him a familiar, dazed college look of exhaustion. Still, since he wasn't freaking out at the man eating plants, Red Robin had thought him too gone on whatever Posion Ivy how dosed the crowd of hostages with, to worry about his bare face. He had merely moved Tucker somewhere safe, stabbed him in the thigh with a needle, which had been rude according to Tucker, and run off to fight Ivy.

Red Robin was Tim Drake. Neat.

The two changed the subject to a TV show, but eventually Tucker had to focus on his essay, and they fell silent.

The following morning, Sam reported that she, too, had figured out a Gotham Hero's identity by accident. Her ectoplasim contamination had made her an attractive goth, who was approached by a blushing Damian Wayne to ask her to model her alternative style for his art club.

At the offer of a bit of pocket change, Sam had agreed to follow the art club president to a park where a group of teenagers were setting up canvases and easels. They asked her to sit on the park fountain for a few hours while they tried to capture her likeness in charcoal.

During the session, she noticed a change in Damian's movement as he grew more relaxed and his old habits began to shine through. Princess Dorathea had taught her the dangers of the court and how to notice little changes in body language that could keep her safe.

She thought it was odd that Damian moved like an assassin, reaching for a small knife in the same way he wielded his charcoal. It made sense later when she was rescued by Robin on her walk home from a would-be mugging and noticed the same little habits.

Robin was Damian Wayne. Neat.

If three of the many Bats were Waynes or connected to the famous family, it only logically makes sense that the rest were all Waynes too. Double neat.

The only one who was sincerely shocked by this reveal was Jazz, who had not even a hint of suspicion that Bruce Wayne was Batman.

"This is huge!" Jazz gasps, "Don't you guys realize how crazy this is!?"

"I mean, sure," Tucker slowly responded, sharing a confused glance with Sam and Danny. "But it's not really our business, is it? It's not like Danny is in the hero scene anymore."

"Well, yes but come on it's Batman!"

"I don't think Batman even cares about us, much less his Bruce persona. As someone from the bottom of the first class, trust me, the top of the first class doesn't even notice us taking up space. " Sam laughs, shaking her head. Danny hesitates to mention that Bruce Wayne has stopped by his office multiple times to bring coffee for all his coworkers, but figures the man must do that for all his employees.

Miles and miles away in Wayne Manor, Bruce narrows his eyes at the three screens displaying three newly graduated teens covered in paranormal residue. It's possible that they were all haunted and just didn't know it, which was a common thing, according to the Justice League Dark.

After some digging into their background, he found that companies, summer camps, and internships had all been fabricated by an incredible hacker who provided an oddly convincing cover-up for the various skills the trio possessed. Again, the Justice League Dark also stated that it was common, as that was a tactic the Otherworlders frequently used on humans to leech onto them.

Like a gas station in the middle of nowhere that was there and then it wasn't a few days later.

The three weren't experiencing any negative emotions, which meant whatever was haunting them would soon pass, and it wasn't necessary to intervene. Zatanna promised Bruce that everything was fine.

He had some doubts.

So far, the three have been doing everyday things that first-year college students typically do, and yet, Bruce's children have reported seeing the three often in their civilian lives.

Foley worked out at the same gym Dick did and was often at the ramen shop Jason just helped one of his friends open. Manson began spending time at Cass's favorite café and attended Duke's poetry nights as an observer. Fenton, the male one, was literally working a few floors below Tim.

A coincidence?

Or was it something nefarious at play?

Bruce decided to wait and see what happens.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Not My Business #Part 1 #The trio are just a guy in Gotham but very not JUST a guy vibes #They new in town #they hot #And they know how to mind their business #Yes Damian has a crush on Sam #Not Everlasting trio #Just good friends #With a dash of codependce #Jazz is thier wine aunt #Bruce thinks the three are sus but can't prove why

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borathae · 9 months ago

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↳ Index [Day 05 - Dragon Cock]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Dragon!Yoongi, Fantasy!AU, Secret Love!AU

Kinks: dragon cock, cunnilingus, magical spit, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetrative sex, he tries so hard to be gentle with her, breeding, creampie, multiple orgasms, praise, strength kink, size kink (he is a lot bigger ‘cause dragon yk), giddy aftercare

Wordcount: 5.5k

a/n: i love him i love him i love him!! he is my beloved pookie and i’ve only known him for one day! also, click this link if you wanna see his delicacies :) i’m serious, do it :)

You lived in Bailemon, which liked to consider itself a town, but it was very far from that. It was small, perhaps even small enough to be considered a village instead of a town. Not many outsiders visited Bailemon because it was far from big cities, nestled between two high mountain ranges and hidden in a dense forest. The roads were passable, but not good. People here lived from the forest and from the little mountainous farming they were able to do during the warmer months.

Your town – or village – had a village square where each second day, the farmers and merchants gathered to sell their goods. In autumn, there was a festival of fire held on the square to ward off the evil spirits of winter. Bailemon also had a place of worship, which was considered holy beyond comparison. It was said that on its grounds, evil cannot tread and in times of danger, one should run to it for shelter.

The people in your village were superstitious, they believed in ghosts, dark magic and demons. You knew their superstition to be justified. This world was dark. The nights during the cold months were too long not to bring forth evil. But you also knew that stuff like holy grounds were nothing but lies to make life in the village easier. Evil walks where it pleases, it takes what it wants and leaves no room for escape.

You lived in the village with your aging parents, taking care of them as their only surviving child. You had a brother once, but he walked into the forest one day and never returned. People say that evil spirits got him, but you know that this was a lie because you looked for him. At least you tried to because you never found him nor traces of evil spirits. You are convinced that it was simply a pack of hungry wolves which took him from your family. Or perhaps he ran away to somewhere warmer and happier. You wouldn’t blame him.

As the only living child of your parents, it became your duty to tend to them in their growing age. You earned money forging swords for the Queen’s army and went hunting whenever food ran out. You also helped the farmers shoe their horses and ox and sometimes scared villagers came to you asking for yet another lock for their front door. Your family lived well thanks to you, even if work by the forge was hard and difficult.

If you weren’t sweating by the scorching fire or hunting in the forest, you walked it in search of berries and mushrooms or to train with your sword. The reason however why you walked the woods most, was the dragon living high up in the northern mountains.

Dragons. Yes, they were as real as evil spirits and wicked demons were and your village was under the protection of one.

Dragons didn’t look as one might imagine a dragon to look like, at least not always. They could morph their enormous dragonic bodies into human-like bodies and walk among people. Their eyes, however, always remained a fiery yellow and their canine teeth were always sharp and pointy. They were also taller than normal humans and had scales down their necks and torsos. Some even had scales on their hands and sharp claws which sliced deeper than any blade ever could. In the lands of humans, dragons were considered gods.

The festival of fire was held because of the dragon living in the mountains. A brave soul is sent to his lair to ask him for his presence each year. Then once the dragon comes down from his high home, he lights the fire with his hot breath and with it, wards off the evil winter spirits. Once the fire burns bright, the villagers begin dancing around the fire in pairs, thanking the dragon for the fire and his protection while he sits on a wooden throne, overlooking the dance. He is always alone during these festivities, drinking wine and eating meat, except for when one of the many willing women – and men – try catching his attention. He never reciprocates.

Marrying a dragon was considered a gift from the gods and not many were successful. Dragons were a distant people – perhaps that is why they became so rare these days – and scarcely engaged with humans except for when they were needed. They lived longer than any human ever would and because of their bigger bodies, many who tried to be intimate with a human, ended up hurting their beloved counterpart. So for the safety of humans, of whom the dragons were very fond, they stayed away from them.

That doesn’t stop you however from regularly walking the path to the dragon’s lair. Sword strapped to your back and with a thick dress warming your body, you walk the steep and stony path. You put your parents to sleep already and locked the cottage. The priest spoke of evil spirits dancing on the wind tonight and you didn’t want to risk anything. You knew that they were safe in your house because you placed dragon ash by each window and door. It was the only thing which truly kept evil away and it is a regular present the dragon gives you.

You take a deep breather once you reach the mountain plateau in front of his cave. Marks of his dragon body landing dig deep into the grey gravel. Small autumn flowers grow in its deep crevices. The dragon placed a pot of flowers next to the cave entrance. You have to chuckle each time you pass it because of its peculiarity. It looks so out of place and yet fits his character so well.

“Yoongi!” you call out the dragon’s name, voice echoing in the big cave. You venture deeper into the cave, leaving the cold autumn air behind. “Yoongi, are you home?”

His lair consisted of two caves. One big and deep and one smaller. The big cave was in the front, welcoming you with endless darkness as it dug deep into the mountain. It smelled ancient and wet in here and there was always a faint sound of water trickling somewhere. Yoongi can fly in it when he is in his true form and hide on the ceiling when he doesn’t want to be found. The smaller cave was where he lived however. You have to take a sharp turn to the right for it and walk through a corridor-like walkway. The ceiling shrinks in height until it was but six meters.

“Yoongi, are you in here?” you try again, entering his true lair. Your voice doesn’t echo anymore. Lantern and torches light up the walls, a fireplace warms the space, expensive rugs cover the stone ground and golden furniture fills the room. Gold, jewels and crystals are scattered all around the cave in heaps or stuffed into big treasure chests. It feels homely here and tonight it is empty.

“Where the heavens are you?” you murmur, looking around the lair. An especially golden cup calls your attention. You bend down to inspect it better, fluttering your lashes at your own distorted reflection. It brings a chuckle to your lips and you straighten up, “how silly I looked.”

You ghost your fingers over a set of earrings next. They sparkle like stars in the sky. They are so beautiful.

“Careful, they’re worth more than your entire village.”

“Oh heavens”, you startle, pulling your sword in instinct and whipping around quickly. The blade graces against your stalker’s throat without cutting them.

“Don’t strike me down just yet”, Yoongi says, lifting his hands.

“You scared me”, you say, touching his chin with the tip of your sharp sword.

The right corner of his lips curls into an amused smirk, revealing glimpses of his long fangs.

“I could tell”, he says blithely despite the sword against his throat.

You put pressure on his chin, forcing his head to tilt up and for his amused smirk to grow. His fiery eyes flicker, a deep growl rumbles in his chest.

“I could have cut your head off”, you say.

“And yet you didn’t.”

You flip the blade to its side, forcing him to gulp because of the sharpness against his skin.

“Careful now”, he rasps.

“Mhm”, you decide with a cock of your brow, pulling your sword back. You twirl it once then put it back into its sheath, features warming as you laugh.

His golden eyes soften and a smile curls his lips. He closes the distance, placing his big hands on your waist and bending down to kiss your lips. You rest your hands on his strong chest, getting on your tiptoes to reach him better. He breaks the kiss, rubbing his nose against yours gently. His breath smells fresh and feels warm.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“The cottage was too cold.”

He laughs, “this is the only reason?”

You snicker, dancing your hands to the nape of his strong neck to trace the scales. You shake your head, “no, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“You did?”

“Mh-hm very much so.”

He draws a giggle to your lips. He smiles, tasting it with a tender kiss. “Come here you”, he mumbles and deepens the kiss. He lifts you off the ground for it just enough that you didn’t have to stand on your tiptoes any longer.

You break the kiss to talk, even if he disagrees with a low growl. His golden eyes gaze longingly at your lips.

“Where were you before I called for you?”

“Deep in the caves, digging for gold.”

“I see and were-”

He interrupts you in laughed words, “will you kiss me or do I have to steal it from you?”

“No. No, I will kiss you. I got the message”, you laugh, pulling him into a deep kiss.

Yoongi purrs deeply, holding you tighter against him as his lips fall into a passionate dance with yours.

You met Yoongi in the year your brother died. You knew him long before that, but up until then, never talked to him. You simply watched from a distance as he lit the fire and then sat on his throne overlooking the dance. You also watched him refuse countless suitors and return to his cave alone once the festival ended. Other than that, you never engaged with him. You had always found him interesting, because dragons are gods after all and he looked so very beautiful in his human form. His hair was as black as soot, his eyes as golden as flames and his scales were an iridescent of black and gold. He didn’t possess sharp claws, which made his touch so very gentle and tender and his lips were soft and pouty which made his kiss so very addicting.

You talked to Yoongi in the year your brother died. You spent too many days to count in the dense forest in search for him and it happened that one day, you got lost. You tried and tried to find your way back, but couldn’t. Night replaced the day and you already saw yourself freezing to death when he came. At first you thought him to be a bear, but then he asked you if you were lost and you knew that you were saved. You told him about why you were in the forest and he offered you comfort in your painful times of grief. He allowed you to talk about your brother as he walked you back to the village, he even allowed you to cry and assured you that your tears were not “entirely silly”. Once he led you back to your cottage, he gave you a bag of dragon ash and told you to spread it on each window and door to keep the rest of your family safe and you thanked him with promises of praying to him in the worship hall tomorrow. Back then, you thought that you were blessed and lucky to have an interaction with him, but you never could have imagined that this one time interaction became a regular thing.

Ever since that day, he began waiting for you by the forest road, offering you companionship in your search for your brother and like this, your walks in the forest became a regular thing until one day, you took his hand and he took yours, never wanting to let go again.

The people in the village didn’t know about your relationship with Yoongi. It was your wish to keep it secret because you knew that they would ruin it. They would force you to marry him, to bear his children, to become their goddess. You didn’t want this life, you wanted to take care of your parents and help the people with your smithies, not be someone to worship.

Yoongi didn’t mind that you wanted to keep him a secret. He liked it. He had many treasures taken from him because they were precious to him and if it was revealed that you were the most precious treasure of all, it would kill you and him in the process. He cannot lose you, not ever. Not when he walked the earth alone for so long, not when his fiery heart finally had someone to burn for.

Yoongi was lonely before he met you. He had other dragons to talk to, but he enjoyed the company of only a very, very few. He also had lots of suitors, which could have made the nights easier, but Yoongi wasn’t one for meaningless fucking. Yoongi craved connection above all. He craved intimacy and trust and conversation. He craved someone to care for and someone to see him as another living being not as a god. You give him all of this and more, but Yoongi knows that even if you didn’t give him any of that, he would love you. He loves you without reason after all. He loves you simply because it was right.

You break the kiss for air, vision just a little blurry as you look at him. You are eye to eye when you are in his arms, hands running along his scaly neck and strong shoulders. A black tunic sits on his torso, allowing his higher body heat to reach your palms. Even in the iciest nights he will warm you. Sometimes in winter, when your parents were already sleeping and the village was quiet, Yoongi sneaks into your cottage through the window (which is always hilarious because he is very big in comparison to the small frame) so he could warm you as you fell asleep. He is always gone the next morning, only having left behind a fresh bag of dragon ash and a few gold coins you could spent in the big city on food.

“You are so warm”, you say, making his eyes smile.

“You are such a delight.”

Your eyes race between the other’s, you and he feel breathless. Your fingers run up to his slightly pointy ears, scratching him behind them.

Yoongi purrs, tilting his head back as his lids flutter.

“If you touch me like this…”

“I know.”

It is a silent understanding between you and him. Yoongi sighs your name and pulls you into a kiss. His fangs clash with yours before he naturally fixes his roughness, kissing you oh so tenderly. Tenderly, but also incredibly hungry. You moan, fingers twisting his black locks and legs closing around his waist. He answers you in a guttural growl, fingers grasping you harder.

This is also why you walked the difficult path. Not only did you want to see him, you wanted his body and touch. You craved it like fire craves wood to burn.

Yoongi walks to his bed with you, laying you atop the big mattress. He climbs over you, caging you under his big, strong body. You open your legs willingly, hands slipping from his hair to grasp the sheets instead.

The kiss breaks because he broke it. His hot breath graces your skin. He cradles your cheek, thumb caressing your temple.

“My treasure, I”, he begins, fingers dimpling your soft thigh possessively, “I need you. I need you so much, I can scarcely breathe. Will you have me?”

You nod your head vigorously, stomach fluttering in what was to come.

“I need to hear it, please.”

“I will. I will have you”, you allow him, parting your legs.

Yoongi moans your name and kisses you, pulling you up into a sitting position to take off your sword. Your fingers are busy with his shirt, undoing the knots and bows. You break apart for just a moment, taking off your clothes. You cannot bother to be dressed.

A moment of calm after the undressing, used to stare at each other. You are both kneeling on the bed, facing each other. He is panting, growling deeply each time he exhales like a dragon ready to spit fire. The sound makes you wetter each time he does it. His torso is muscular and his scales hug his form as if he was wearing armour. They are mostly around his chest and upper back and fade out on his lower torso. His legs and crotch are free of scales, skin golden and sun-kissed and looking so human. You touch him, tracing the scales first before making your way down to his legs.

He lets you, eyes mesmerised by the plumpness of your breasts and the curves of your bared body. He reaches out, sending his fingers on a walk along your landscape.

“You are so beautiful”, he speaks softly, eyes gazing at the goosebumps his touch draws to the surface.

“You are just as beautiful”, you tell him, caressing the silken skin of his stomach.

You reach his hips. His skin is so soft there and sensitive to scratches. You give him exactly that, making his cock twitch between his thighs.

Yoongi’s cock wasn’t human and the first time you saw it in its full size, you understood why so many dragons ended up hurting their lovers. It was the cock of a dragon, made for dragon. If he was in his true form, you are actually unable to take it because of its enormous size. If he was in his human form, it shrunk with him, but it was still insanely big in comparison to human cocks. His cock curved slightly in the shape of an S. He wasn’t smooth as humans were, instead his length had an engorged tip with a textured shaft, which stimulated even your deepest spots. When he released inside you, his base swelled up, keeping his cock lodged inside you until your quivering walls had enough of drinking his nectar.

You were scared at first and Yoongi, feeling just a little insecure that you couldn’t like his cock, told you that you could still escape if you so wished to do. The fear in his voice drew you closer to him back then and you assured him that you could make it work because you wanted nobody else to fill you than him. He took your virginity that night and for not one second, you felt pain or discomfort, lying in his arms afterwards while his fingertips drew shapes of adoration on your skin and he whispered how much he adored you.

The memories of countless shared nights draw you closer to him and your hand to his cock, tracing his textured shaft. Despite his many pumps and crevices, his skin was soft to the touch. He was hotter than humans and it made his length feel incredible inside. It is best described as a feeling of burning from the inside in the most pleasurable of ways and once he releases inside, oh, once his hot cream fills your belly to the point of bloating, the heat is so intense that you often end up screaming in ecstasy.

You close your fingers around his base tightly and drag them up to his tip. The pressure is enough to squeeze droplets of precum out of his slit, eliciting a deep growl from him.

He frowns, exhaling a hot swirl of breath on your face. It wasn’t painful, simply insanely arousing. His fingers dimple your hips as he grabs you. You wobble slightly from the intense touch, hand trembling around his large cockhead.

“You are playing with fire”, he lulls, eyelids heavy in pleasure.

“I like it hot”, you taunt, twisting your fist around his tip.

“You drive me insane”, he gets out and slaps your hand away for the sole purpose of pushing you into the sheets. He pins your hands above your head. “One day it will end in your punishment.”

You moan, writhing under him. You wouldn’t mind being punished if it meant that you could feel his touch.

“Stay like this.”

You whimper, nodding your head in obedience.

“I will be gentle, I promise.”

He lowers his lips to your neck, kissing a path down to your heat. He is hasty in his kisses, letting his impatience shine through this way. Dragons, so he told you, are a greedy people. Once they lust for something - or in his case, someone - they would do anything to claim it as quickly as possible. Stuff like taking it slow and preparing you are foreign to his people, but he does it for you. He is so good in being patient, but sometimes his greed shines through. Tonight for example when he kisses a greedy and hasty path down your body just so he could be between your legs faster.

He places one kiss on each of your inner thighs, strong fingers gripping your flesh afterwards to pull your legs apart. His fiery eyes race over your exposed cunt, flickering hungrily.

“You are so wet already”, he rasps.

“I wanted you all week.”

“I wanted you more, you have no idea.”

Patience finally leaves him and he claims what he lusts for most, drawing a yelp of pleasure from you. You arch your back, legs shaking in his hold and fingers grasping his thick hair as he feasts on your cunt sloppily.

Yoongi pleases you with his mouth for two reasons, he told you. The first reason is his insatiable hunger and greed. You are sweeter than anything he could ever taste and your cunt’s nectar makes his head blurry in pleasure. The second reason is the more important one. It is to make you ready for his dragonic cock. The spit of a dragon is relaxing to a human, it contains elements which not only heighten the sensitivity of their nerve endings, but which also relaxes the muscles so their holes could take a dragon’s cock easily. Yoongi confessed to you back then that the reason why so many dragons hurt their human lovers is because they don’t take time to properly relax them. They let their lust and greed control them and as a result hurt their humans.

Yoongi would never. Yoongi takes his time with you. He licks every inch of your dripping heat, buries his long tongue deep in your walls and pumps it into you until your tightened walls loosened up and you are gaping for his cock. He licks you to orgasm whenever he prepares you and you always shake in his grip, forcing his greed to grow to unbearable levels. Yoongi loves your orgasms as much as he loves gold.

Tonight is no different, Yoongi draws an overwhelming orgasm out of you. You scream, legs trying to close on his head and weakened body helplessly shaking on the sheets. Yoongi growls into you, pushing his fingers deep into your loose cunt so he could feel your walls tremble.

He keeps them inside you after your high ebbed down, curling them greedily while his soiled lips kiss up your body. He grabs your wrists and holds them together, big body draped over yours and fingers rubbing your sensitive insides.

“You’re sweating”, he rasps, gazing at you obsessively.

“Please fuck me, please”, you beg, voice so close to a sob. His fingers aren’t enough. “I need your cock, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

“I will be gentle, I promise”, he says, slipping his fingers from your cunt to jerk his own cock. He guides it to your gaping cunt, rubbing it through your folds. “You are so beautiful, my treasure”, he breathes, giving you all his adoration by pushing into you.

You gasp, tensing up under him at the feeling of his engorged tip pushing past your entrance.

“Are you hurting?” he asks, moving as slowly as possible.

You shake your head, gazing up at him droopily.

“Tell me if it does. You are doing so well, my treasure”, he whispers, fingers rubbing your swollen clit to make the breach easier.

“It feels so good…”

You can feel his large tip as it digs deeper and deeper, but what truly feels like heaven are the many pumps and crevices filling you. Your entrance is on pleasurable fire, feeling every texture inch by inch. His saliva made your walls sensitive to the very end, forcing you to feel his textured cock even deep inside. He curves so perfectly that his large tip presses against you deepest pleasure spot, forcing your belly to bulge just a little because he was so, so big.

“I’m in. Does it hurt?” he asks, keeping still for your sake. His greed tells him to take you rough. It takes everything inside him not to give into his animalistic side.

You spill tears.

“No. No, I’m sorry I-” he panics, but gets stopped when you rip your hands free from his grasp to cradle his face instead.

“I love you, Yoongi.”

He shudders, melting into your hands.

“I love you too”, he gets out and twists the pillow above your head as he begins pumping his cock into you. “Does this please you?”

“A-ah”, you let out, trembling in reaction.

“Is it too much?”

“No, please…don’t stop”, you croak, rolling your eyes back as you fall into the pleasurable fire. Your lips part, making way for the endless noises of bliss he draws out of you. It feels so good. He feels so good.

“You are so beautiful. Oh, I need you. I want you. I crave you, argh”, he growls, twisting the pillow rougher as his greedy hips pick up speed. Your moans drive him wild, the view of your glowing face has the same effect on him than the view of fresh gold does. He feels high, head pounding as he feeds his insatiable lust with each heavy, deep thrust.

Your body is so small under him, looking so fragile and breakable and yet you take him so easily. Yoongi rips the pillow, grinding his fangs as he growls. He buries his cock deeper in your gaping walls, forcing your back to arch off the mattress and for your voice to rise in pitch. He lets his tail grow just so he could wrap it around your waist and hold you in this position while he rubbed your pulsating clit and fucked your soft cunt.

“You’re mine. My treasure, my everything, my beloved”, he chants, deep voice contorted in pleasure.

He is still in disbelief that you can take him so easily. So small, so fragile, so soft and yet you can house him entirely. The first time he laid with you, Yoongi barely went past his first two inches, moving carefully and slowly just so he wouldn’t hurt you. He would have been fine if that was all that you could ever take, but you proved him so wrong. He can be free with you. You can fully take him and it makes you moan so blissfully that Yoongi feels high just from the sound of it.

He is so blessed to have you. His treasure, his beloved, his everything. His tail tightens around your waist possessively, angling your hips so he could go so much deeper.

You wail his name, fingers gripping his strong arms and legs dropping as they stop working. Only his tail holds you up right now while you shake under him.

“Are you?”

“Yes”, you wail, moaning loudly afterwards.

“I need you, I fucking need you”, he spits, cursing because you anger him in pure lust, “I’m going to fill you with my seed until you’re bursting. I will paint your walls golden, you will be mine. Mine forever, urgh.”

“Please! Please make me yours, please!”

Yoongi lets out a dragonic growl, ripping the pillow apart and throwing his head back as your pleas break him. His big balls empty themselves in your trembling heat, giving you so much pleasure that you orgasm again with screams of his name. There is so much of his seed and it doesn’t want to stop, filling you up past your limits so it squirts out of you with each angry thrust. And Yoongi keeps going until his base swells and he genuinely cannot move his cock anymore.

He drops his head into the crook of your neck, huffing and puffing demonically. His cock is still releasing into you, making you sob because the pressure of his engorged base and swollen tip against your overly sensitive walls makes you orgasm again.

“Yoongi, I can’t do this. I can’t, it feels too good”, you plead, walls clenching around his swollen cock as they drink his golden seed greedily.

“I know, my treasure, I know”, he soothes you, “I can’t stop. I’m so greedy, I can’t stop. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t do this, Yoongi. Yoongi please”, you beg, barely able to breathe. While dragon’s spit relaxes, their seed gives a human a rush of pleasure. The first time it happened, you cried because it was so overwhelming. You still need to cry often whenever he breeds you and tonight all that holds you back is the loving embrace of his tail around your waist. It feels so good but also like too much because you cannot stop orgasming.

“Not again, ah please Yoongi!!”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s almost over, I promise. Please hold onto me, it’s almost over”, he soothes you, massaging your engorged clit to make it easier to bear.

Your stomach is so bloated from his seed, you are sweating so much. He can feel one more load building up.

“I need you to breathe for me. One last time, I promise”, he lulls and rolls his hips into you.

You writhe and scream, scratching down his neck with all your might. You don’t draw blood because his scales protect him, but he still feels it as a pleasurable tingle.

Yoongi lifts his head to look at you. It lasts one second because then his eyes roll back as the view of your ruined, drugged body sets him off.

“I love you”, he wails, bursting into you one last time. He makes you orgasm with him, walls tightening to the point of milking him dry.

This is what you both needed. To be so connected.

He drops his head back into your neck, fingers slipping from the ruined pillow to pet your head instead.

“My treasure, oh my treasure, my golden beloved”, he croaks, kissing you gently, “I’m sorry for being so greedy, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. I’m so happy”, you get out, body laying limp and ruined under him. His swollen cock is still inside you, keeping every droplet of his golden seed in you. It warms you so much, makes you feel so good.

“You are? You’re happy?” he asks.

“So happy.” You hug him with your weak arms, barely able to close them around his broad back. “I’m yours.”

He whimpers, seeking your closeness by hugging you against his chest with his strong arm and his tail.

“Oh my most loved treasure.” He kisses a slow path up to your face, cradling your cheek with his unoccupied hand. “Will you stay the night? I promise to fly you down to the village by morning.”

“Yes, I’d like to stay. I couldn’t possibly walk tonight. Not after how you ruined me.”

A shy giggle slips from his lips. You open your eyes, meeting his giddy gaze. His cheeks are flushed, his dark hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead. The view of him makes his cock feel so much better inside you. You are his. So entirely and willingly his.

“I couldn’t help it. I missed you so much and, and you are so tempting. Did I hurt you?”

“No, it felt so good. You still do”, you say, clenching around his swollen cock. He shudders slightly, drawing closer to you.

“I promise my cock will soften soon, you just feel so good. I’m trying, but he wants to bask in you longer, I’m sorry.”

“I hope he doesn’t soften soon. I don’t want this to end.”

He blushes, but needs to seek more reassurance still.

“Please forgive me for the way I acted when I bred you. I acted like a greedy animal.”

“Mhm, you did. Because you are a greedy animal. My greedy dragon, mine”, you say caressing his soft cheek.

He leans into your touch, eyes lowering in adoration. You giggle, scrunching your nose cutely. He smiles, brushing some messy strands of hair out of your forehead.

“I love you, my little human.”

“And I love you, my strong dragon.”

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mixingandmelting · 6 months ago

Text

Give Life Another Chance

Summary: He had always had your back when he was Robin. He'll always have your back even as an Outlaw

Word: 3.9k

A/N: Finally did Jason's version of childhood friend to lover trope! *Also part of Winter Series: Day 5

Soft, black curls and a smile that could win the hearts of millions- there were so many good points you probably should’ve noticed first. But having been kicked out of the orphanage again and preoccupied to find a safe place to sleep on the streets for the night, your mind was slow to process that you were just saved from being jumped by Robin. So, your brain chose to point something else out as it registered. Like how haughty he was being with both hands on his hips and an eyebrow raised as he had asked why a kid like you was out in the street this late.

“You’re short.”

“…Seriously? Instead of a thanks you tell me I’m short?”

You were going to ask him if he had any plans on denying what you had just said when one of the thugs on the ground let out a groan.

“Let’s go!”

Quickly, boy wonder wrapped an arm around your waist before using the Batarang to pull the two of you up one of the near-by buildings. Surprisingly, you never once let go of him nor scream as he swung from one building to the next. Was it from trust? Survival instincts? You don’t know. The next few minutes blurred as two teens continued to swing from building to building until he finally landed in front of a 24/7 burger place.

“Wha-where-“

Where did he get the cap he plopped on your head from? When did he change into the hoodie and sweatpants? Your head was spinning from so many unanswered questions that he was practically dragging you into the restaurant with a firm yet gentle grip around your hand. Shuffling you into a booth, he sat across from you and ordered two sets of the same burger meal.

You both sat there quietly until the food came out.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Robin asked, noticing you hadn’t touched your food yet.

You blankly blinked at him then at the food in front of you. Slowly, you reached for the burger and took a bite. Then another. You take the napkin he offered across the table to wipe your mouth and cheeks from both the food stains and tears while eating.

By the time you finished, you both were slurping on your soft drinks, stuffed and satisfied.

“Well?” He asked, his eyes behind the domino mask trained on you.

“… Why?” He must’ve expected you to ask him from the shrug he gave.

“You looked like you needed it.”

You looked like you needed it?

“You were planning to sleep out tonight weren’t you? How were you going to do that on an empty stomach?”

“I…” You paused for a moment, fiddling with your thumbs. “I’m used to it.”

He didn’t cue you or pressed for answers. It was all on you, spilling everything you’ve gone through from how your parents had abandoned you at age four from being chased by loan sharks to how you were continually being kicked out of each orphanage you enter for accidentally catching the employees embezzling funds meant to maintain the place.

The one question he did ask was about school. He didn’t pursue further when you told him everyone knew your clothes were from hand-me-downs and the Salvation Army.

You appreciated how he didn’t offer words of faux sympathy, simply muttering with an “I see”. You were curious what expression he was making though as he had his head turned toward the window and the hoodie pulled over his head blocked your view.

Once the glasses were emptied, you both headed out.

“Do you have any friends at your school?”

You weren’t taken off guard anymore, finding yourself adapted to your current situation.

“No.”

“Then head to this place. It’s nicer compared to all the others you were placed in.”

Unexpectedly, an address for somewhere in the nicer neighborhood of Gotham was neatly written on the napkin.

“Yeah, and how am I supposed to get there? Have them let me in? It’s not like I have a social worker or anyone who’ll fill the paperwork for me.”

“It’ll be fine. Just take the bus and walk there. Once you get there, just give them your name and then, they’ll let you in.”

It was suspicious to say the least. At the same time, you didn’t have anything to lose.

“Then you have to promise to come visit me tomorrow.” Childishly, you stuck your pinky out at him. “ ‘Cause if you don’t, it’ll be your fault I’m dead.”

“You aren’t going to die,” he snorted, yet wrapped his pinky around yours. “If anything, it’ll be a step forward to make life a bit better.”

He was right. Life did get better when you arrived at the written address. With no hesitation despite the time of your arrival being past 1:00 AM, a kind woman welcomed you in and helped get you situated. For a week, you were busy getting used to the new environment where everything and everyone was… well, normal. None of the other kids looked as if they were struggling or waging war for survival. The adults were attentive and fostered healthy maturity.

It helped that Robin had decided to visit you every night rather than just the next day. Along with checking in that you were okay, he listened to everything you had in your mind. The struggles, the challenges, the confusion from how none of your past experiences could’ve prepared for this big of a change. In a good way of course.

Too bad the visits became less frequent once you started going to your new school. He mentioned about getting in trouble for not focusing on his patrols the last time. Your disappointment must’ve been evident when he proposed to do the “pen-pal thing”. Using how you mentioned you’d do anything to thank him on the promised night as an excuse, he apparently had been wanting to do it but didn’t have anyone until you.

That’s how you ended up leaving your window open ajar every night, having slipped a letter between the slim gap between the sill and the window itself and getting one back the same way, same place.

School on the other hand was eventful. Your only friend was Jason Todd, who, you had to admit, put in a lot of work to get close to you. To be fair, you didn’t expect someone to approach you all friendly on your first day. There were some hiccups along the way, however you guys managed to get through them and became buddies.

There wasn’t a day you guys weren’t hanging together. Homework was being done at the library, talking about the books you both recently read during lunch. The time you both didn’t talk to each other was during class. Unlike you who sometimes found the drawl on Homo sapiens boring, Jason was soaking in all the knowledge with enthusiasm. You once called him school-freak from how much he loved to learn, being in school and exploring the topics the teachers were going over. He retorted that you were mad you couldn’t beat him in getting a higher grade during the last exam. You simply snatched his book and ran away with it, not appreciating how he was right.

With Robin during the night and Jason during the day, you were brighter and friendlier. Slowly, yet surely, you were found smiling more and approachable. Your schoolmates and teachers warmed up to you, treating you like one of them. You also had a place you could call home temporarily, where you could relax and enjoy the presence of having somewhat of a family.

The serenity and joy you had ended up lasting for two years. Jason suddenly stopped coming to school. Robin hadn’t visited you for a while nor sent you a letter. With Robin, you assumed it was because he was busy fighting criminals alongside Batman. Jason? You got worried about him. You tried to get in touch with him in every possible way you can. You asked the teachers, who were also worried as they didn’t know why he hadn’t been attending. You used the school’s directory book they hand out every year and sent letters to his residence.

It was when you got the courage and called his home phone you were given the news. It went from shock. Denial. And then devastation. You felt completely ruined. Your eyes were glass and devoid of emotions when you had gone to his grave, dressed in black, holding a bouquet of red roses (he once said in passing that they were his favorite).

Your one friend you made for the first time in life- you refused to believe he was dead. The news reported it was from an incident related to the Joker, making things much harder from the sheer weight of reality. Especially knowing the survival rate of the victims when the notorious villain was involved.

You managed to maintain sanity superficially, convincing everyone that you were over it. That you were fine. Never realizing the reason for you to hold on was from the belief that Robin would soon visit you again when he had time or at least take the letters that were growing longer where you switched size of the envelopes multiple times.

Things became complicated when Batman, who hadn’t been seen with Robin for so long, made an appearance with him again. Problem was, the Robin next to the older man wasn’t your Robin. Instead of soft curls, his hair was silky and straight. The costume was different. The way the new Robin smiled wasn’t the same as the other Robin. Your Robin.

During the time Robin wasn’t present, you had thought he was severely injured. Hence your expression of concern was always written in your letters, even in the midst of your grief. But what if. Just what if-

You wanted it to be not true so much as you matched dates to events. The day of Jason’s death to around when Robin stopped sending you letters. The day Jason was seen with a cast to the day Robin wasn’t present on a mission. It was a cruel, awful joke played by the fates. Your Robin was Jason Todd. And the people- no, person- you loved with every fiber in your heart was dead.

Jason, on the other hand, was never really into people back when he was a kid. Helping those in need and bringing justice so those suffering would finally have peace? Of course. He would always do it. Interest in a specific person though? He didn’t until he found you walking out and about in the middle of Park Row. Initially, out of empathy from knowing what it was like living in that awful area of Gotham, he was planning to follow you in the case you decided to get your hand dirty and mess with the wrong nest. He was proven wrong and soon changed his assessment of you to respect when he watched you give candy from your bag into the hands of the little kids hiding in the alley. You weren't being dumb about it either, posing it as if you were threatening contrary to what had actually happened. The longer he followed you, the more he saw how knowledgeable you were, knowing when to pick fights and when to keep your head low to stay out of trouble as you walked through the different alleys.

It made him more curious about you, from how you managed to save an adult man from a beating by tripping the assailant with the cover of his sidekick being the one to kick a nearby can. When he read the information he was able to find about you, he felt bitter. It was one thing to live with a dead-beat dad and a drugged out mom, but it was a whole different situation when having to live out in the street without a roof to cover your head most of the time, trying to get by on your own with no adults.

He tried to think of something, anything to help you that night, after closing out the files that had been on the monitor in the Batcave. He started out with following you around during patrols and beating up anyone who seemed suspicious or approaching you with ill-intent behind your back. In his spare time, he was figuring out ways to get in a better child-care system considering you were still a minor, just like him. After hearing about his old man sponsoring to open an orphanage in central Gotham, he mustered the courage to put in a favor.

His plan was all set and ready to go once Bruce got involved, all that was left was to get you on board. Lady Luck must’ve been smiling at him when the perfect opportunity arose when he caught sight of some thugs hiding in the alley you were about to pass. That definitely got your attention when the thug that was close to grabbing you by the scruff went down with a thud.

He never understood that awful and tragic feeling of seeing someone empty until he saw your eyes. Blank and filled with nothing, not even a spark of resentment or rage. He swallowed the lump in his throat, heart burning from the evidence of how the corruption of Gotham claimed another young victim.

“So, what’s a kid like you roaming the streets at this time?”

He didn’t mean to sound cocky. He was trying to sound normal, mustering the tiny drop of remaining strength in him to not waver when you looked so broken. Doesn’t mean he was impressed with your jab though. He had been told by Alfred that he was taller than Dick when he was the same age as him for your information.

As he proceeded to help you get another chance with life, it wasn't part of his plan to become besties, even more so develop feelings for you. Sure, when he approached you as Jason Todd, things didn’t go well at first considering he knew you but you didn’t know him. His civilian self, to be exact. But as he got to know you as both Jason and Robin, he came to know the other side of you. The one with a heart that could encompass the whole world, a mind that had the potential to excel in anything you put your mind into. He constantly worried over the chances of you getting hurt, despite the rough exterior, from being so fragile.

Your letters reflected this as there were times your vulnerability appeared in writing on your thoughts of others. Yes there was hatred and annoyance but always in the last paragraph, you express your desire to understand rather than to exact revenge. You wanted to give them a chance and connect, not resent.

The day he was captured was the day he wanted to confess to you. Reveal who he was and see if he could have a chance to be in your heart. So when he had come back to the living, he didn’t seek you out. He was scared to find out you had moved on without him. That he was simply left as a fragment of a memory like everyone else.

You would’ve laughed at the expression he made if you had seen him when he saw you at his grave. He was camping, hoping that Bruce would appear and prove him wrong. To show that he was still loved and in his heart as his son. All he could do was hide his presence behind the giant oak tree, slightly tilting his head out to watch what you were doing.

He watched your form from behind as you sat down in front of his grave before shuffling and pulling out folded pieces of paper. With his hiding spot not being that far off, he could hear you talking. And he wished he didn’t. A giant block of ice settled to the bottom of his stomach, listening to you read your letters you apparently continued to write to him. Your voice didn’t waver, casual and light as if you were truly talking to him like in the past.

When you got to what seemed like the end, your voice cracked. Then a sniffle. For a moment, he forgot the anger and hatred he harbored, his knuckles going white from suppressing himself to reaching out and comforting you. It ripped him into pieces from the sorrow and wretch you were emitting, sobbing and whimpering why he couldn’t have told you sooner. Why he left without letting you say your final farewells. How you wanted him back.

You get interrupted and quickly forced to wipe your tears when your phone rung.

“This is Officer-“

He stopped breathing. Out of all things, you became a police officer. The hope to meet and rekindle with you was completely crushed, his status not at all glamorous or society acceptable at the moment. When he heard ruffling, he came back to reality. He could feel his eyes well-up as he watched you place a familiar bouquet of flowers on his grave before getting up and leaving.

Once you were gone, he walked over and picked the bouquet up delicately. For the first time since his revival, he was grieving for someone other than him, someone he still loves. Ironically, he wished that you were the one to have forgotten about him. Not being haunted and distraught as if you were watching him die over and over.

Maybe it was then he developed the motivation to change, to leave and let go of emotions he had been holding up to then. Eventually, he had gone from working to dominate the underground businesses to getting rid of them. And whenever he had spare time, he’d have your back and make sure no one was going after you. It wasn’t just criminals he would take down who were planning to attack you and your group when on the field, he had also aimed at any corrupted officers that were going to use you as their scape-goat.

Sure he had gone on adventures as he progressively turned over a new leaf, yet you were and still always his priority. Back when he was Robin and now, as Red Hood the outlaw. As time passed, he could see you healing. Your smiles more genuine. A glow in your skin. Your visits to him every week being more peaceful.

He didn’t think nor entertain the idea of ever meeting you again. How could he when it’ll break you to find out he’s been alive, again, for so long?

So imagine his surprise when he arrives at the manor for the traditional Wayne Christmas party, finding you standing under the ridiculously large tree in the equally ridiculously large living room.

The disgruntled expression gets replaced with shock for Jason as yours morphs into disbelief.

“Ja..son…?”

Six feet, a body packed with muscles and scars, not to mention the infamous brown, leather jacket. Dick really wasn’t kidding during the time you helped hide him and the other vigilantes during the anti-hero hunt led by Amanda Waller when he had revealed that Jason Todd was actually alive after hearing from you how you knew the other, both as the former Robin and civilian. It makes you sick in the stomach of how much the person you loved once known as Mr. Sunshine went through for all the pure, unadulterated positivity and radiant optimism to be stripped away from him, leaving only hardship, fatigue, and harshness when hearing what he had gone through before and after his death. He didn’t deserve such cruelty, not when he was trying to pull the weight of the effort society refused to put in to make life better when he was a tiny teen.

What you do next is risky. It may cause you to lose everything the two of you once had even. But how could you have him stand in front of the double-oak doors alone with eyes exposing his vulnerable and fragile heart.

The questions he wants to ask, the actions he wants to take, they all are swallowed down when he’s pulled into a hug. It’s then he notices how much smaller you are compared to him. Your arms that once used to completely wrap around his shoulders can barely wrap around his torso. Your frame, frail as you tremble and leave tears on his thin, cotton shirt.

He doesn’t need Dick’s motions or Tim’s mouthing to know what to do. Careful to crush you, he leans into you.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you I was back.”

It’s the greatest Christmas gift life has ever given the two of you when you awkwardly nod in response to his words, no intentions of letting him go from fear he’d disappear on you again. And the sentiment is shared when he squeezes you closer to himself, a smile that was lost for a while reappearing and making those around feel the joy of the holiday miracle.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 3 months ago

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Hiii! Can I please request a husband!Bucky x wife!fem!reader where Bucky, Steve, and Y/n had been best friends since childhood, and Bucky and Y/n started dating and eventually got married (they were high school sweethearts🥹). When Bucky fell off the train, Hydra came to her door, pretending to be the soldiers that worked with Bucky and asked her to come with them by lying that they’d take her to Bucky who had been “injured” in a battle. Hydra brainwashed Y/n, much like they did Bucky, injected her with the super serum and turned her into their own personal spy, taking her in and out of cryo like they did with Bucky. Much like Bucky she worked in the shadows and was trained to perfection, so even when she was sent into SHEILD to help infiltrate it, Steve never noticed or recognized her, let alone even saw her. All Steve knew (after definitely researching what happened to her after him and Bucky were gone), was that she disappeared shortly after Bucky and Steve “died” in 1945 and was never seen again. But he finds out her and Bucky are alive and brainwashed in CA: Winter Soldier, and after Bucky joins the Avengers, Steve, Sam, and Bucky all work to free Y/n 🥺 When they do however, she doesn’t remember Bucky or Steve, even after the brainwashing is broken? (Bucky and Steve would be heartbroken) And her and Bucky fall in love all over again?

Forever Sweethearts » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband!40s!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader with Pre Serum Steve Rogers, Husband/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Spy!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and the Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky are high school sweethearts. HYDRA shows up as Army soldiers at your house to tell you that Bucky is injured, but in reality they brainwash you and turn you into a spy. Years later when Bucky joins the Avengers, he gets you back with Steve’s and Sam’s help, but sadly you don’t remember him. When you do, you and Bucky end up falling in love all over again.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, language, HYDRA, brainwashing, violence, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the lovely request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

A/N #2: Italic texts are flashbacks.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Gif credits go to the creators.

1943

You, Bucky, and Steve are childhood best friends. You three are inseparable. You guys do everything together. You and Bucky fell in love while you guys were in high school. He proposed to you the day you, Bucky, and Steve graduated from high school and you two got married that Summer.

Right now, you’re in an alley with Steve. You’re cleaning him up cause he got into a fight with a guy bigger than him.

“Stevie, I told you not to fight that guy.” You say while wiping blood off his nose.

“He wouldn’t shut up.” Steve says.

“So you resorted to violence?” You asked.

“Maybe…” He says.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your best friend and continued to clean him up.

“What happened this time?” Bucky asks as he walks in the alley.

“Stevie fought a guy bigger than him.” You tell your husband.

“I swear you like getting punched, man.” He says, looking at Steve.

“In his defense, the guy wouldn’t be quiet during the Army film.” You say.

You threw away the tissue in the trash can next to you before properly greeting your husband. You gave him a kiss on his lips.

“You look incredibly handsome in uniform.” You complimented in a flirtatiously.

“Thank you, doll.” Bucky smiles.

“Did you get your orders?” Steve asks, chiming in.

“The 107th, Sergeant James Barnes.” Bucky says.

Steve looks down and sighs sadly. He’s been trying to enlist in the 107th.

“It’s ok, Stevie.” You hugged him. “You’ll get in eventually.” You say positively.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Steve says.

“You’re welcome.” You say.

“Now, stop being sad and let’s go.” Bucky says.

“Go where?” Steve asks.

Bucky hands Steve a newspaper that says something about the Stark Expo. You looked at it too.

“Stark Expo.” Steve read aloud.

“Sounds interesting.” You say.

“That’s why we’re going, doll face.” Bucky says.

You giggled and Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. When the three of you got to the Stark Expo, you guys decided to walk around for a little bit.

“So when do you leave?” Steve asks.

“Tomorrow.” Bucky answers.

“No. That’s too soon.” You say.

Tears filled your eyes when you realized you only have tonight to spend time with your husband before he leaves for the Army tomorrow.

“I know, doll.” Bucky pulls you into a hug. “Look at the bright side, I’ll be home before you know it.” Bucky says.

“You promise?” You asked and sniffled.

“I promise.” He promises, kissing your wedding ring.

Every time Bucky promises you something, he kisses your wedding ring, which always makes you smile.

“I love you, sweetie.” You say softly and kissed him.

“I love you too, babydoll.” Bucky says softly, kissing you back.

———

1945

Bucky has came home a few times since he’s joined the Army. You two always send each other letters, telling each other how much you two love and miss each other. You two try not let the long distance bother you guys.

You were cleaning yours and Bucky’s house to keep yourself busy when you heard a knock on the door. You stopped what you were doing to see who it is. Two Army -HYDRA- officers were on your doorstep.

“Are you Y/N Barnes?” One of them asks.

“Yes.” You answered.

“We work with your husband, Sergeant James Barnes, and we’re sorry to tell you this, but he’s been injured in battle.” The other soldier tells you.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Your mind made you think the worst.

“How- How injured is he?” You asked.

“Enough to get him in the med bay.” The fake Army officer said.

“He asked us to pick you up and take you to him.” The other fake Army officer said.

“Yes please. Take me to my husband.” You say.

Little did you know that this was part of HYDRA’s plan after Bucky fell off the train. They’re going to take you to their base, brainwash you, inject you with the Super Soldier serum, take you in and out of the cryo chamber, and turn you into their own personal spy.

“Which one of these rooms is my husband in?” You asked as you walked through the hallway with the two HYDRA agents.

“He’s not in any of these rooms, Mrs. Barnes.” One of the HYDRA agents says.

Then where is he?” You asked.

You didn’t miss the way they exchanged looks with each other before looking at you with grins on their faces.

“Where is my husband?” You asked again.

Before you knew it, they grabbed your arms and led you to a lab. They forcefully pushed you down in a chair and strapped your arms and legs down. Then they left the lab. You tried to free yourself from the restraints, but they were too tight. That’s when a man in a suit and a man in a white lab coat walked in the lab.

“Hello, Mrs. Barnes. I’m Arnim Zola.” Zola greets you.

“Where the hell is my husband?” You asked for a third time, completely bypassing his introduction.

“He’s going to become something for our upcoming project. As for you, you’re going to become something for another one of our projects.” He explains.

Zola looks at the man in the lab coat and gave him a nod. The man in the lab coat walked over to you with an IV needle. Your eyes went wide and your heart began to pound. You wish you could break free of the restraints, but you couldn’t. The IV needle got inserted into your arm. You yelped when the needle pricked your skin. That’s when all of the pain and torture started…

———

DECEMBER 1991

HYDRA has been taking you in and out of the cryo chamber since 1945. They already brainwashed you, injected you with the Super Soldier serum, and trained you to know what a spy needs to know. Now, it’s December 1, 1991 and they took you out of the cryo and erased your memories once again.

“Ready to comply?” Your handler asks.

“Ready to comply.” You confirmed.

“We have a mission for you.” He says.

You nodded, waiting for him to tell you what the mission is.

“This is Howard and Maria Stark.” He shows you a picture of them. “We want you to follow them around for the next couple of weeks and see what information you can find out.” He explains.

“Yes, sir.” You complied.

You suited up for the mission. Your handler packed you binoculars, notebooks, and pens in a bag. They want you to take notes on what Howard and Maria are doing in those two weeks. Then you went to work.

After those two weeks, you got all of the information you needed to give to HYDRA written in the notebooks. You reported back to them and gave them the information.

“Great job, Agent Barnes. Your work here is done. Go get cleaned up.” Your handler says.

You nodded and left the room. As you were walking down the hall, you seen the Winter Soldier being dragged into one of the labs. You’ve never worked with him, but he looks familiar to you. Like you know him.

Could he be- no. Your husband died by falling off a train in 1945. At least that’s what HYDRA told you.

You were running down the street as Bucky chased you. Bucky caught up to you and grabbed you by your waist. He picked you up and spun you around, making you laugh uncontrollably. He gently put you back on your feet and pinned you against the nearest wall. He put his hands on the wall on both sides of your head.

“Why do you insist on running away from me, doll face?” Bucky asks.

“I think it’s fun when you chase me.” You answered with a playful grin.

“You’re right. It is.” He agrees and kisses you.

When the flashback ended, you felt yourself get lightheaded. You put your hand on the wall to keep yourself from falling. You weren’t sure what just happened, but you felt better after a few seconds.

———

2014

HYDRA sent you on an undercover mission to pose as an SHIELD Agent. They didn’t bother giving you a made up name for the undercover mission. They just sent to you SHIELD to spy for a little bit before they infiltrate them. Like you’re always told when you get sent on missions, you were told to keep your distance, in which you did. As you were doing your job, you seen Captain America- Steve Rogers from a distance. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. He’s the second familiar person who you came across since 1991.

“You need to stop getting into fights, Stevie.” You say as you helped clean him up.

“That guy had it coming.” Steve says.

You sighed as you continued to clean him up. Bucky walked in the bathroom a moment later.

“Did you get your ass beat again?” Bucky asks, leaning against the edge of the bathroom sink counter.

“He had it coming.” Steve says again.

“I swear you like getting punched.” Bucky says.

“No I don’t.” Steve says.

“Then why do you insist on getting into fights with people who are bigger than you?” You asked.

“I don’t know.” Steve mumbles.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your best friend.

“Alright. You’re good as new now.” You say.

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re the best.” Steve smiles.

You felt yourself get lightheaded after the flashback. You sat down in a chair before you passed out. You took a few deep breaths and took a sip of water before going back to work.

Meanwhile, Steve was doing research on you. He was curious to know what happened to you after Bucky died- fell off the train in 1945. Since he doesn’t know much about technology, he asked Natasha for help.

“Is there any particular reason why you’re researching a woman from the same time period as you?” Natasha asks curiously.

“She’s my childhood best friend. She married my best friend Bucky the Summer after we graduated from high school.” Steve tells her.

“Your childhood best friends are high school sweethearts? That’s so sweet.” She smiles.

“It is.” He smiles at the thought of it.

As Steve was researching you, he couldn’t find anything after 1945. He double and tripled check just to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

“There’s nothing on her after 1945. It’s like she disappeared.” Steve says.

“Do you think she might’ve died?” Natasha asks.

“No. Someone would told me.” He says.

———

Shortly after the fight on the helicarrier between Steve and the Winter Soldier, Bucky joined the Avengers. Bucky has been trying everything he could think of to figure out what happened to you. Steve told him that he did research on you, but couldn’t find anything on you after 1945.

“Think, Bucky. Are you sure you haven’t came across Y/N over the years?” Steve asks.

“If I came across my wife, I would’ve-” That’s when Bucky remembered something.

Two HYDRA agents were dragging the Winter Soldier to the lab to wipe his memories once again. You were walking past him at the same time he lifted his head. You two made eye contact with each other. His eyes never left yours as he was drugged past you.

“Bucky?” Steve gently shook his best friend to snap him out of his trance. “Are you ok?” He asks.

“HYDRA.” Bucky finally said. “They have my wife. I remember being dragged past her in a hallway of the HYDRA base I was kept at. Her and I didn’t recognize each other though.” He says.

Bucky’s eyes filled with tears and anger filled his veins.

“I’m going to kill them, Steve.” Bucky says, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“You have every right to kill them, Buck, but first, you need to save your wife.” Steve says softly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Will you help me?” Bucky asks and sniffles.

“You know I will. We’ll get Sam to help us too.” Steve says.

Bucky nods and wipes his tears away. He pulled it together long enough to save you. When Bucky, Steve, and Sam got to the HYDRA base you are currently being held at, Bucky wanted to shoot the first HYDRA agent he saw, but he restrained himself.

“Do you remember what hallway you were in when you first seen her?” Steve asks.

Bucky looked around for a moment, trying to remember where the hallway is. Something sparked his memory when he looked at the hallway to the right.

“I heard her footsteps go this way.” Bucky says.

He walked down the hallway to the right with Steve following behind him. Then he came to a stop when he saw a few doors. He looked in the sliding slot of each door to see if you’re in any of the cells.

“She’s in this cell.” Bucky says, looking threw the last door slot.

He already knew that that cell door was locked so he broke off the door knob with his metal hand. You were sleeping on the wall opposite of the door. Him and Steve cautiously walked towards you. You woke up when you heard unfamiliar footsteps. Bucky and Steve froze when you sat up and turned over to face them. Bucky’s breath hitched when he saw you for the first time in years. You cautiously stood up, not taking your eyes off the two Super Soldiers.

“Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“Who the hell is Y/N?” You asked.

“Y/N, I’m your husband. Steve is right here. He’s our best friend, remember?” He says.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don’t know you guys.” You say.

“Doll, we’re high school sweethearts.” He says.

You were starting to feel overwhelmed. You managed to run past them, bumping into them as you did so. You ran through the hallways, trying to escape them. They caught up to you and Bucky tackled you to the floor. You tried to squirm free, but couldn’t.

“I’m your husband, doll.” Bucky says again.

“I’m not married.” You say.

You managed to kick Bucky off of you. You grabbed the gun out of the holster on his hip and aimed it at him. Bucky stayed on the floor, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Y/N, I want you to think about what you’re doing before you do it.” Bucky says in a calm voice.

Steve came up behind you and grabbed the gun out of your hand. You run before one of them could restrain you. You finally exited the base. You looked behind you to see if you out ran Bucky and Steve. You did. Then Sam flew down and grabbed you, catching you off guard.

“I got her.” Sam informs Bucky and Steve.

You did everything to squirm out of Sam’s hold on you, but he only held you tighter. Bucky and Steve exited the base and walked over to Sam. Sam moved you over to Bucky so now you’re in Bucky’s hold. He managed to get you on the quinjet and gently sat you down on one of the seats. You stared up at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

When you guys got to the Avengers compound, Bucky got you set up in his bedroom like the amazing husband he is. You looked around his bedroom. You’ll admit that it’s a lot nicer than the cell HYDRA put you in. You felt like you were going to go stir crazy in there so you left his bedroom and roamed around the compound. Meanwhile, Bucky was in the lounge room with Steve and Sam.

“What am I going to do if Y/N never remembers me as her husband?” Bucky asks, running his fingers through his long hair.

“She will, Buck. Just give her time.” Steve says softly.

You walked in the lounge room at the midst of their conversation. They stopped talking and turned their attention to you. Bucky stood up from his seat and walked over to you.

“Are you ok, doll? Do you need anything?” Bucky asks softly.

“I’m fine.” You mumbled. “Do any of you have a computer?” You asked.

“I have a laptop.” Sam says.

“Can I use it?” You asked.

“Sure.” Sam replies.

Sam hands you his laptop. You sat down on the couch and researched Bucky who claims is your husband and Steve who says is your childhood best friend. You researched Steve first.

“You’re Captain America.” You say, looking at Steve.

“Yes I am.” Steve confirms.

You then researched Bucky. Your eyebrows shot up at the results you got on him.

“You’re the Winter Soldier?” You asked Bucky, showing him a picture of when he was the Winter Soldier.

“Yes, but I don’t do that anymore. The man I have always been is your husband.” Bucky says.

You closed the laptop and gave it back to Sam. You walked over to Bucky, looking up at him.

“If you really are my husband, then why don’t I remember you?” You asked.

“HYDRA brainwashed you.” Bucky simply says.

Images of HYDRA brainwashing you flashes in your mind. Your breathing becomes uneven. You left the lounge and went straight to Bucky’s bedroom. You closed the door and leaned against it. You closed your eyes and tried to get your breathing under control. You’re starting to think that Bucky might be right about HYDRA brainwashing you.

———

Weeks turn into months and you still don’t remember Bucky as your husband. Bucky has tried everything he could think of to get you to remember him, but nothing works. He accidentally overwhelmed you once, but then apologized. It’s breaking Bucky’s heart that you don’t remember him. The more you say it, the more it feels like someone ripped his heart out of his chest and crushed it in their bare hands.

The only thing that’s keeping Bucky from breaking down is looking at old pictures of you two, especially the pictures from yours and his wedding day. Tears filled his eyes as he looked at the pictures. You guys were so happy. Thanks to HYDRA, all of that happiness got ripped from you two.

“Are you ok?” You asked.

“I’m fine.” Bucky says and sniffles.

You walked over to him and sat down next to him on his bed. You took a look at the pictures in the photo album he’s currently looking at.

“Who are those people?” You asked, pointing at one of yours and his wedding pictures.

“Me and you on our wedding day.” He tells you. “You looked so gorgeous in your wedding dress.” He says softly with a smile.

The more you look at the pictures, you don’t remember any of it. It makes you feel bad that you can’t remember the man you married.

“I’m sorry I can’t remember any of this.” You apologized sadly.

“Doll, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. It’ll come to you eventually.” He says softly.

You gaze deep in Bucky’s eyes, getting lost in them. You leaned in and kissed him passionately, catching Bucky by surprise. He kissed you back. He never forgot about how soft your lips feel against his. You pulled away after a few seconds, still gazing in his eyes.

“I’m falling in love with you, Bucky.” You admitted softly.

“I’m falling in love with you too, doll.” Bucky says softly.

In that moment, you and Bucky started to rekindle the love that got ripped from you guys years ago.

———

Yours and Bucky’s love has become stronger than ever lately. It’s just as strong as it was when you two fell in love when you guys were in high school. Also, yours and his happiness has came back.

“It looks like you and Y/N are falling in love again.” Steve says.

“How can you tell?” Bucky asks.

“You have that same smile on your face like the day you asked her to be your girlfriend in high school.” Steve says.

Bucky smiles at the memory. He remembers that day perfectly.

“You want to know what will make Y/N love you even more?” Wanda says.

“Yes.” Bucky replies.

“You should buy her favorite flowers and put her wedding ring back on her finger.” She suggests.

“Y/N does love flowers, but I don’t have her wedding ring to put on her finger.” He says sadly.

“Do you think she’ll accept a ring that’s different from her original ring?” She asks.

“I don’t know. There’s only one way to find out.” He says.

Bucky thanks Wanda for the suggestion and thought about it for a while. Later that same day, Bucky did what Wanda said. He bought a bouquet of your favorite flowers and he went to a jewelry store to buy a ring. He bought one that closely resembles your original ring.

“Have you guys seen Bucky?” You asked as you walked in the lounge room.

“He had to run a couple of errands. He said he’ll be back soon.” Wanda tells you.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks softly.

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking, Stevie.” You smiled.

Steve smiles when you called him Stevie. You haven’t called him that nickname since 1943.

You decided to go outside to get some fresh air. You sat on the bench next to the door to the main entrance of the compound. Bucky came back from running his errands a moment later. You smiled when you seen him walking towards you.

“I was wondering where you were, James.” You say with a smile.

“I wanted to get you your favorite flowers.” Bucky smiles as he hands you the bouquet.

“These are pretty.” You smiled as you admired the flowers.

“I have something else for you.” He says nervously.

“What is it?” You asked curiously.

Bucky took a small velvet box out of his jacket pocket and got down on one knee. You gasped.

“I know it’s not exactly the ring I put on your finger in 1935, but I hope you like it.” He says.

Bucky opened the small box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

“I love it!” You exclaimed softly.

Bucky smiles and slides the ring on your finger. He sat down next to you on the bench and kissed you passionately.

“I love you, Bucky.” You say softly.

“I love you too, doll.” Bucky almost whispers. “I’m sure your memories of us will come back soon. Till then, you have our love and happiness to help you out with it.” He says softly, pecking your lips softly.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

422 notes · View notes

justmymindandstuff · 5 months ago

Note

Would thou spare a mere peasant a moment??

Imagine Targ!reader visiting the wall with Cregan (similar moment he had with Jace, and maybe Jace is there too, it’s up to you)

And reader forces her dragon to go beyond the wall by jumping off the top of it

I’ll leave the rest to you 😚❤️

jump scare - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader

summary: you and your twin Jacaerys follow Cregans invitation to the wall. As your Dragon refused to fly over the wall he sees a glimps of your temper. At that moment he knows that you, as the future Lady Stark, will bring trouble into Winterfells halls.

words: 2.691

warnings: kissing, Cregan has a crush (but he doesn´t know it)

a/n: Reader is Rhaenyras daughter and described with black hair and purple eyes// no use of Y/N// English is not my first language // not proofread // AO3

I love this idea so much, soo thank you anon🧡, but I had a hard time writing this, so it´s a bit short and I not completely like how it came out (edit: you can read part 2/6 here- seriesmasterlist/moodbord)

anyways I hope you like it.

Have fun and be kind 🧡

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

Cregan shifts from one foot to the other as the elevator slowly jerks up the Wall. The brothers of the Night's Watch and Castle Black grow smaller beneath him. His breath forms white clouds in the cold air. The Warden of the North tries to get rid of his inner restlessness. He wishes the elevator would go faster, while at the same time hoping this ride would never end.

At the top of the wall, he will soon meet the Prince and Princess of the Seven Kingdoms again, of course with their two dragons.

Jacaerys and you landed in Winterfell's courtyard a few days ago with Vermax and Veraxes. And you brought war with you. At the thought, Cregan's insides twist.

Jacaerys made him an offer on behalf of his mother: Cregan and his men would ride south for the queen and support her claim, in exchange for a marriage with the princess. Rhaenyra Targaryen gives him her only daughter as a wife.

Cregan knows he can't refuse such an offer. Nobody turn down a Targaryen offer.

And he could have done worse.

He doesn't like the thought, but he knows he could have done worse. His future wife is beautiful. Long black hair that stands in stark contrast to your pale skin, delicate features, and those sparkling eyes. There is something in it, Cregan can't quite put his finger on it yet. You have a fire, a wildness behind your eyes that Cregan has never seen before.

A woman like you is actually worth his entire army. Cregan would theoretically have to arm every man, woman, and child in the North and send them south to redeem his debt.

But he can't.

He can only send 2,000 men, Greybeards. Cregan cannot spare more, he needs his men here for the coming winter. And like his House words are saying: winter is coming.

That's the reason why you are here, that's the reason for Cregan's invitation to the Wall. You and your brother need to understand why he can't send more men. You both need to see it. Before Cregan takes you as his wife in a few days at Goodswood of Winterfell and thus seals the pact of ice and fire.

"It is an honor for me to be able to fulfill my duty, and Winterfell is very beautiful. I look forward to making it my home."

More than that, you haven't said about your marriage. Cregan doesn't know if you really mean it or if you have memorized these words, because your mother told you so. He hopes you meant it.

He can't figure you out. In the past few days, Cregan was able to spend a little time with you, but he hasn't really gotten to know you yet. Also because Jacaerys was present at each of your meetings, of course Cregan would never do anything that would endanger your honor and reputation. He is a Stark, a man of honor. That's why you two always have your brother as achaperone.

What Cregan has learned in the short time is that you are definitely not a little princess who needs to be rescued from a tower.

You train with swords, fly almost daily on your dragon, can curse like a sailor, and are not too shy to give your brother a piece of your mind everytime he gets on your nerves.

On the other hand, you have a razor-sharp mind, smile kindly at Cregan, dance skillfully and make every move with an elegance that only a Targaryen princess possesses.

You attract him like light attracts a moth. Your attractiveness has captured him, and the fragments of your being that you show him only make him more curious about the rest. He wants to get to know you, everything about you. Cregan can hardly think of you without his thoughts and feelings swirling around inside him like a storm.

A loud crack next to him makes the Warden of the North flinch and snaps him out of his thoughts. Cregan looks to the side. Veraxes slams his claws into the ice of the Wall with full force, her body crashs against it, and the Wall seems to tremble under the impact. Cregan hears you curse loudly in a foreign language, high valyrian, he is sure. Jacaerys' laughter rings out above him and Vermax flies over him before the dragon lands on the wall, noticeably gentler than Veraxes.

Cregan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. He pushes all thoughts of you and your future marriage aside. One step at a time. First he must show you what the Night's Watch and House Stark do for centuries, protecting the realm before the dangers beyond the Wall.

The elevator stops at the top, the doors open. Cregan allows himself two more heartbeats to gather himself, then steps outside onto the Wall.

Immediately, the cold wind whips around his ears, but apart from a brief shiver it doesn´t bothered him.

Veraxes climbs the Wall, her claws break off large pieces of ice that fall down. Cregan hopes that no one gets hit. You and your dragon arrive at the top and you place Veraxes next to Vermax. You slide down her wing and land next to your twin brother, snow swirling around your boots.

Cregan's gaze shifts from you to the dragons. Vermax and Veraxes, twin dragons you told him on the first evening, both dragons hatched from the eggs in you and your brothers cribs.

The dragons make whistling sounds, turning their heads. They seem nervous. The young Lord finds his own thoughts ridiculous in the next moment. What could possibly make dragons nervous?

Cregan has to swallow and takes the last steps towards his royal guests. The siblings are completely engrossed in their usual bickering.

"I told you she wouldn't fly over." laughs Jacaerys, you jab him in the stomach and then jump two steps to the side so his counterattack doesn't hit you.

"She'll do it." you say as you look over the edge of the Wall.

"Please don't go so close to the edge." the prince's voice sounds alarmed.

"Don't be such a coward, Jacey."

"Don't call me that. I'm not a little kid anymore." the prince snaps.

"Then don't act like one." you say dry and still don't take a step away from the edge. On the contrary, you push your feet a little closer to the edge, the tips of your boots no longer have any grip.

Cregan cleared his throat to get your attention. "My Lady, your brother is right. You shouldn't stand so close to the edge of the wall."

You tilt your head slightly, a hint of a smile dancing on your full lips. "Good thing you'll only be my husband in three days My Lord and only then you can give me orders." you say, your cheerful tone doesn´t match your bitter words.

Cregan feels as if you had hit him in the stomach and looks helplessly at Jacaerys, but he just shrugs and gives him an apologetic smile.

Suddenly, the dragons move. Cregan manages at the last second to prevent himself from flinching as Vermax's claw strikes the ice beside him. The dragons make whistling noises again, Veraxes restlessly lashes her tail back and forth.

Cregan looks at the twins. "Is something wrong with them?" he can't manage to suppress the concern in his voice.

You look at him, smile again as if your last comment had never been made. "Do you know the story of Queen Alysanne Targaryen?" you ask instead of answering.

Cregan tries not to show his confusion about your behavior and nods. Everyone knows the story: The queen wanted to fly over the wall with her dragon, the dragon refused. That has never happened before.

"My dearest sister here thought she was better than Queen Alysanne and wanted to fly Veraxes over the Wall."

"I didn't think I´m better than Queen Alysanne." you interrupt your brother, but he simply ignores you. The prince turns directly to Cregan.

"You saw how well the attempt worked."

Cregan furrows his brow. "So the dragons refuse to fly over the Wall?" he asks just to be sure.

"Obviously. They don't like it here." you say, again your gaze goes over the edge downwards. "7000 feet, right?"

"Yes, My Lady," Cregan confirms. He doesn't know if his uneasy feeling comes from the fact that you are half leaning over the edge of the Wall or from the fact that the dragons refuse to fly over it. It doesn't matter right know. The young Lord has to swallow and suppress the urge to go to you and pull you away from the wall.

The dragons also lean further forward, but their noses never go beyond the edge of the Wall. You and Jace watch your monsters closely as they move. While Jacaerys looks worried, you are curious.

Cregan seizes the moment and looks at you. The winter sun shines on you, makes you glow, and gets caught in your dark braids. Your cheeks and nose are slightly reddened from the cold up here. Cregan's fingertips tingle slightl as the desire arises to caress the soft skin of your cheek.

Would you lean into his touch? Or slap his hand away? Cregan has no idea, but he's eager to find out. Again, he has to pull himself together to come back into the moment. Again, he reminds himself: one step at a time.

"Forget it, sister. Silverwing didn't fly over the Wall, Veraxes will do it neither." Jacaerys sounds annoyed. Cregan sees out of the corner of his eye as he shifts his weight slightly forward, ready to catch you if you trip.

"Just because you can't get Vermax to do it." you say, the challenge clear in your tone and the way your eyes sparkle. Cregan has the feeling that you are hatching something, and the way your gaze goes from him to your brother tells him that it won't be anything good.

"Veraxes won't fly over it either." Jacaerys insists.

A mischievous grin appears on your face, your intentions now clearly visible. "Bet?" you ask, turning to your brother. You say something in high valyrian that Cregan doesn't understand.

The next second you wink at him, spread your arms and let yourself fall backward from the Wall.

Cregan's heart stops for a moment, Jacaerys calls your name, his voice trembling. Both men run forward, but of course, neither of them manages to hold onto you anymore. Cregan looks over the edge and sees you falling quickly. His entire body tenses up in fear. Not only is he watching you fall to your own death, but it's happening under his watch as well. The Dragon Queen would probably turn the entire North to ashes if she hears that her only daughter has met her end in the North.

And he would never hear your melodic laughter again, Cregan immediately gets annoyed by this inappropriate thought.

Suddenly, he is caught by a gust of wind and almost falls off the wall himself as Veraxes flies just a few centimeters past him and throws himself after you. The dragon lets out a cry that sounds angry and desperate. The sound reminds Cregan of a mother weeping for her frozen baby.

"I'll kill her." Jacaerys murmurs quietly next to Cregan as they watch your dragon catch up with you, fly under you, so you land on her saddle. Cregan is sure that must have hurt.

Veraxes spreads her wings and catches her fall, the Lord of Winterfell isn't quite sure how much space there is left to the ground but from up here it doesn't look like much.

He has to take a deep breath, relief flooding through him. Thank the gods you're not dead.

You turn your dragon vertically and fly steeply up the wall. As you shoot past Cregan, he flinches a step back but can't take his eyes off you.

You throw your head back and laugh a loud, joyful laugh. The wind tousles your braids, and the winter sun makes your eyes sparkle. And there it is again, that freedom, that wildness in your gaze. Cregan's heart skips a beat at the sight. By all the gods, he knows in that moment that you are fearless, maybe a little insane, but definitely fearless. You will fit well in the North, you will fit well with him.

Cregan is impressed, he can't help but stare at and admire you as you let your Dragon land right next to Cregan at the edge of the wall. You are still laughing.

Veraxes stands so close that the sulfur smell rises to his nose and he feels the warmth of the dragon. Your dragon blows hot air from its nostrils, accompanied by a rumbling noise from its throat that makes Cregan's neck hairs stand on end. Her tail crashes against the ice on the other side, causing the ice under his feets to tremble. You are sitting on her back and sticking your tongue out at your twin.

"I told you so." you say, still laughing at Jacaerys and his shocked face.

"I swear to you if mother..." begins the prunce, but you raise your hand to interrupt him.

"You're just angry because you lost the bet." you say. "And besides, in a few days I won't be Mother's concern anymore."

Jacaerys opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes from his throat. Then he looks at Cregan, and his neck turns slightly red.

"My Lord future husband." you break the silence with a gentle voice, and Cregan immediately turns to you. "A helping hand?"

His feelings are completely mixed up, still he steps closer to Veraxes without thinking, extends his hand to you and helps you dismount from your dragon. Even though you all know that you don't need help.

You land right in front of him, so close that he can make out the different shades of purple in your eyes. Your pleasant scent envelops him, for two heartbeats Cregan forgets everything around you. He recognizes that wild sparkle in your eyes again, and before he can react you stand on your tiptoes place your hand on the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. When your lips meet, the brief moment of surprise is dispelled by a hot shiver that runs through his body. Instinctively, his hand reaches for your hip and he pulls you closer to him. Your soft lips move perfectly against his, and his heart begins to beat faster at the sensation.

You part breathlessly from each other, for a brief moment you look deeply into his eyes. A smile dances around your lips. Cregans can't help but smile with you, this time it's him who winks. He is rewarded with a radiant smile from you. Cregan blinks, and the moment is gone.

While you turn back to your brother, Cregan has to take a deep breath to calm his heartbeat.

"Brother. It was nice to beat you again." you spit at Jacaerys and lift your chin. But when you turn back to Cregan there is a soft smile on your face, which makes his heart stumble again. "My Lord. Please excuse me. I want to look at the rest of the Wall." you nod to him and then turn away.

The Lord of Winterfell can do nothing but stare after you as you walk along the wall. You don't even have to call Veraxes, she takes off again and flies north of the Wall beside you.

Cregan looks at the prince again, fearing for a heartbeat that Jacaerys will now burn him with Vermax. After all, Cregan has dishonored his sister.

The prince, however, appears more annoyed than angry. Jacaerys bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head slightly. "Good luck with her, Lord Stark. She only causes headaches." he says then.

"Aye, probably." says Cregan, but can't suppress a grin. Yes, you mean trouble, but Cregan is ready for this journey. He is looking forward to it.

part 2

#cregan stark x you #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fic #cregan stark fanfiction #hotd fic #house of the dragon #hotd #cregan stark x targaryen!reader #cregan stark fic #game of thrones x reader #hotd x reader #cregan stark request #ice and fire

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military1st · 4 months ago

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Cold, Wet, and Battle-Ready!

When the mission calls, the U.S. Marines answer. Even if it means taking an unexpected dip in Arctic waters!

Training in Setermoen, Norway 🇳🇴, these Marines are mastering ice breakthrough survival ahead of Exercise Joint Viking 25.

The U.S. Marine Corps 🇺🇸 photo by Sgt. Antonino Mazzamuto (2025)

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scorpioriesling · 20 days ago

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Hate Loving you

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Xaden x reader

Warning(s): smut, mdni, 18+, nsfw, light angst, fluff

Summary: Your usual routine with your sworn enemy becomes a little more complicated as time passes... especially when an arranged marriage is on the table.

SR’s Note: Um... enemies to lovers? We love it? @sheblogs had a great idea for a part 2 to this story, so here it is! I'd reccomend reading part 1 first, so you're all caught up. Hugs and kisses! xo

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @paintedbyshadows @freakishfandomfiend @littleemissperfecttt @loveofmychips @bodhidurrans (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Love Hating You

Basgiath was colder than you'd imagined; so cold infact, your warm breaths could be seen before you, small wisps of steam against the bitter winter air.

You followed closely behind the king, taking two steps to keep up with his one. The group was silent, walking in uniform formation -- so silent that you were sure the others would hear the racing of your heart, if you were not careful.

"Halt!" King Tecarus raised a hand. Everyone immediately stopped, waiting for the next direction. The King turned, signaling for the few soldiers to enter first.

"I want the trained to enter with me," he announced, then motioned to the other half of the group. "The rest of my counsel will meet with the principal, as well as a few trusted advisors to discuss our trade agreement."

Everyone nods and begins on their way. You look to the King, quickly approaching him before he can turn to walk away.

"And for me, Sir?" You asked. He turned sharply, his familiar frown greeting you in answer.

"You're headed down to the artillery room," he says matter-of-factly. "Isn't that why you demanded to come?"

You nodded, trying your best to convince him and yourself of your role here.

"Absolutely sir," you said, nodding in salute. He relaxed a little, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

"There's a reason I allowed you to come, and not Catriona." He said softly. Your throat bobbed, registering the implication. You'll get the job done, he seemed to say. My neice wouldn't.

With that, you assured him you'd see to it that all of the weapons were delivered, and went on your way.

✧･ﾟ: *

The artillery room was packed when you got there. Men scrambled from box to box, unloading empty wooden crates and piling machienery onto the backs of Cordyn's armored trucks. You looked from box to box, ensuring all weapons were delivered in full. Once verified, the trucks departed, making their way back to Krovla.

Your brow furrowed as you approached the last truck. You seached the boxes, realizing a few weapons were missing. Groaning, you turned to the attendant nearest you -- a dark haired male with tanned skin. You nearly did a double-take; the striking resemblance between him and Xaden was...

"Hey!" You called, approaching him quickly. He turned to look up at you, pausing his current unboxing task and placing his hands on his hips. His cheeks were flushed red, likely from the bitter cold. He sniffled before answering you.

"Can I help you?" He said. You gestured to the last remaining truck, brows raising in question.

"Uh, yeah," you said matter-of-factly. "The last truck. We're supposed to have three boxes of long blades -- there's only one in there."

He looked plainly at you, his eyes cataloging every one of your features. Your brows narrowed, and you opened your mouth to demand an explaination but he beat you to it.

"I was told that truck was to recieve only one box," he explained calmly. You laughed humorlessly, folding your arms across your chest.

"Yeah, that makes sense -- we can supply an entire army with just one box," you said. The male shrugged, shaking his head.

"I just do what I'm told."

"Yeah?" You asked, steppikng closer. "And, who exactly is telling you, huh? Becaused my orders come directly from the King, and he specifically said-"

"Y/N," he said, his eyes widening. "You're Y/N... aren't you."

You paused your rampage, your brows knitting.

"Yeah, and?"

The male laughed, dropping his head as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he looked up at you again, there was pure delight in his eyes.

"I've been told a whole lot about you," he said slowly, grinning like a child on Christmas. "You're the girl he's so crazy about." You started to get angry, wondering who the Hell was walking around this place talking about you of all people.

"Oh really? And, may I ask what exactly you've heard?"

He shrugged. "Good and bad. Mostly good, I guess, though my cousin's judgement is sometimes questionable-"

In that moment you lunged for him, grabbing him by the shirt collar and bringing his face inches before yours. His eyes flew wide in surprise.

"Ow! Hey-"

"Who. Is. This, Cousin?" You asked lowly. The brunette simply gulped, and you fisted his shirt tighter. "WHO?"

"Okay! Okay," he relented, holding his hands up in surrender. "His name is Xaden -- you know him? Xaden Riorson?"

Your blood ran cold, and in that instant you dropped the kid. No wonder they looked so much alike -- they were related.

You should've known. Should've known you'd run into something like this.

Behind you, the truck's engine revved, preparing for departure. Surely, the King would reem you for not getting all the supplies negotiated for -- but now, you knew who was responsible for it.

You stormed out of the area, pushing past anyone who got in your way. Most of the males in the room gave you odd looks as you thundered past -- you didn't care. There was only one objective, one male on your mind.

And Gods help him if he didn't know you had arrived. Soon, youd ensure he would.

✧･ﾟ: *

You'd stormed through the doors of the main building, ignoring the students walking from one class to the next. If Xaden was here, you'd be sure to find him -- it was only a matter of time.

Walking the halls, you passed door after door, inspecting the nameplates as you went; Duvera, Kaori, Emmetario. Scoffing, you continued on, as surely he wouldn't be in a professor's office as a student himself.

It took damn near a half an hour until the halls had cleared, and the silence stretched. You were grateful for it, as you could make out which rooms were in use and which ones weren't. It was warmer inside the building, that you were also grateful for -- that was, until you approached an unmarked door. The voices inside talked in heated discussion, and you slowed your steps.

Approaching slowly, you inched toward the cracked open doorway, recognizing a few of the voices inside.

"This would be a fruitful allegiance, both for Cordyn and Navarre." That one was definately King Tecarus'.

"Fruitful, yes -- but would it even make sense?" This one, you'd also heard before. It sounded an awful lot like one of the Tyrrish court members that visited alongside Xaden when he came to Cordyn.

You leaned in, straining your hearing as the argument ensued.

"Who cares about sense," a woman's voice sounded. "Think of what's best for the school!"

"I'm not being married off despite my own wishes for a damn school, General."

That one, was unmistakenly Xaden's. Your brows narrowed as you took in what he was saying, realizing your artillery dispute may have to wait.

"But just think of the opportunity it'd bring you -- it'd bring to Tyrrendor too!" The King exclaimed. A few others commented as well, their reactions all mixed.

"You should be grateful the King is willing to strike an alliance with you," the General chastized. "You were born a rebel, after all. This at least would do youe father some justice."

There was a scuffle, and you jumped as Xaden's shouting echoed through the hallway.

"DON'T YOU SAY A WORD ABOUT MY FATHER!" He exclaimed. You cupped a hand over your mouth, realizing the general he was speaking to was in fact General Sorrengail. If you were remembering the words in your history book correctly -- she didn't take kindly to members of the rebellion.

"Xaden! Please!" Another male pleaded. "Let's keep this civil."

You heard his sigh, and dared to peek around the corner. You couldn't see much through the small crack, but you did see movement in the room.

"The best way of doing that is marrying my niece," King Tecarus interjected. "She's a wonderful girl, really. She'll make a great ruler. All you'd have to do is-"

"I'm not doing that," Xaden replied, his tone lethal. "I won't be marrying anyone, unless it's for the sake of love."

Your blood ran cold. Marriage? To Catriona?

All the thoughts inside your head began to swim. Was the King serious? They weren't even dating -- sure, your friend had hinted at her interest in the Tyrrish male, but they didn't even know one another! How did the King expect marriage from him? And for what, the sake of uniting the two provinces?

You realized you were breathing harder, heavier. This couldn't be happening. Xaden could not be engaged to Cat. After all that had happened between the two of you...

The door flew open in an instant, and you jumped back so fast you stumbled and fell on your ass. Lo and behold, Xaden burst through the door, shadows leaping and dancing as he strode out. He noticed you instantly, watching as he scrambled to your feet. The rage in his eyes flared as he registered your face, instantly gripping your arm and yanking you to your feet.

"What. The fuck. Are you doing here." He said, more as a demand than a question. You glared at him, attempting and failing to wrench your arm free.

"Actually, I came here to berate you for giving your cousin such a rediculous order reguarding our weapons supply -- but now, I suppose I'm here to merely congradulate you." Your tone was icy, amused even -- but Xaden bought none of it.

The golden flecks in those eyes intensified as he stared down at you, both confused and still angry.

"What the Hell are you talking about?"

Behind him, an unknown male peeked through the doorway, cupping his hands around his mouth as he called out.

"Xaden, please come back. We have more to discuss!"

Xaden didn't even glance at him as he gripped your arm tighter, tugging you along with him as he strode down the hallway and opened the doors to the rear stairwell.

"Bad idea coming here," he growled, yanking you along with him as he took two steps at a time. You tripped, working to keep up but also trying to deny everything you'd just heard.

"Really, bad, fucking, idea."

✧･ﾟ: *

"Tell me again why the fuck you're here," Xaden demanded, pushing you through the doorway and slamming it behind him.

You scoffed. "What, is it so hard for you to believe the King brought me to ensure weapons delivery?" Xaden loosed a harsh breath through his nose, striding across the room in the direction of his desk. "You think that, what, because I'm a girl, I can't handle it?"

Xaden barked out a laugh, pressing his palms into the wooden top of his workspace.

"I don't doubt it for a minute, actually -- you're really good at arguing," he said, though it came off more as a backhanded compliment.

"So why only give us one box of-"

"That's not why you're really here," he insisted, cutting you off as he stood straight again. "You came here for something else, and I want to know what it is."

You huffed, looking anywhere but him. FInally able to take in your surroundings, you realized you were in a dorm room. His, for that matter. The black silken sheet bed, the reports in a neat pile on his bedside table... this was surely his room.

Turning to him again, you were forced to consider what you'd known all along. You couldn't believe how easy it was for him to figure out, how he could see right through you -- but with him, it seemed he would be able to read you like a book on any given day.

"I ... I'm not sure what I thought would happen. Me coming here, I mean." You admitted quietly. He took a step toward you, his dark presence intimidating had you not known him so well. You stared up at him for a moment, before facing the sad truth that was now becoming your reality.

"It doesn't really matter though why I came -- it's clear that in nine months, you'll be married. To my best friend."

The silence that followed was capapble of swallowing you whole. Xaden didn't move, he just stood there, brooding as you stared at the floor. Neither of you knew what to say, how to put the words you wanted into sentences to be said out loud.

He broke it finally, his voice quiet when he spoke.

"I'm not marrying Catriona." He said. You hated the way the tears came, so fast and threatening you started blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. Your breath caught in your throat when your hand was taken in his, your gaze following as he lifted it and placed it on his chest. Beneath your fingertips, you felt his heart, beating so fast it would win a race had it been in one.

"It sounds like the most logical option to me," you countered, still trying to make sense of it yourself. "She's in line for the throne, Xaden. She's royal by blood and-"

"And I said. I'm not. Marrying. Her." He said, voice clipped. You stared up into his eyes, trying to read the answers hidden in them.

"But why?" You whispered, your voice breaking. He tilted his chin down then, inching his face toward yours. You swallowed hard, trying to save yourself from the impending heartbreak you were sure was to come.

"I'm not in love with her," he whispered, his lips a featherlight touch against yours. Your skin ignited in every place the two of you touched, set ablaze by the flame burning between the two of you. Every night you'd gone to bed in denial, every heartache you swore wasn't tied to his absence... you couldn't deny it any longer. For every insult, every eye-roll, every harsh word you threw at him -- you wanted him. Needed his presence, craved his attention. And for all that mattered, you knew a marriage between him and your best friend would absolutely shatter you.

You leaned in right then, pressing your lips to his. The touch was light and warm -- not as desperate and hungry as the last time. Reguardless, this was only the second time you'd kissed; and you'd be damned not to make it last.

Parting your lips, you silently asked for more -- more of him, more of this. These were the moments you could never rid yourself of, the moments you hated to love sharing with him. He obliged, his lips parting as he kissed you back. His hands found your waist, sliding around your hips and settling on your lower back. You reached both hands up, tangling your fingers in the onyx strands near the base of his neck as you lost yourself in him. In his touch, in his taste, his smoke and shadow scent -- you craved it all.

"This, is a, bad idea" you said between kisses. He tugged you closer in response, clutching you to him as though he'd crumble without you. He breathed deeply before answering, only pulling back an inch before kissing you again.

"You're full of bad ideas," he whispered, and you genuinely smiled. Your heart leaped as he cupped both hands under your ass, lifing you with ease. You giggled, for once not scolding yourself for the sound, and sighed as he laid you gently on his bed. You stared up at him, his eyes round with emotion.

"I don't think I've ever appreciated how beautiful you are," he said softly. The tears that had sat on your waterline threatened to spill over, ecpecially as he continued to admire you from above. "You're the most exquisite thing I think I've ever seen."

A single tear slipped free, and he was quick to catch it. You sniffled as you looked up at him, a small, sad smile on his face.

"Xaden Riorson... don't tell me you're going soft now," you teased, though emotion coated every word you spoke. A small smile tilted his lips as his fingers worked, undoing your pants and tugging them down. He unlaced your boots, then pulled off your socks... underwear next. You helped by removing your sweater and bra, and when he was finally undressed before you -- you realized you'd never felt so bare in front of him.

His gaze roamed over your body as he stood between your knees, his eyes softer than you'd ever seen. As he leaned in, a single kiss was placed to your lips -- one that lingered, one given as a reminder.

You tensed as he positioned himself at your entrance, not engaging in any wild foreplay or torture as the two of you usually did. This time, his actions were slow, meaningful.

"I'd only ever be soft towards you," he promised, sliding his cock inside of you. You gasped, the awaited feeling bringing you instant pleasure after being denied it for so long. "Though, you get me pretty damn hard, I'll tell you that."

You lauguhed, loud and bellious as he smiled down at you, joining in on your chuckling. It warmed your heart to see him smile, really smile like this -- even if it was while being buried inside of you.

He breathed slow as he thrust in and out of you, his pace more restrained than you'd ever experienced. His eyes never left yours, watching and studying your face as though this was the last time he'd see it. Your hands gripped his shoulders, holding on for support as his braced your hip and tangled in your hair.

"I... I love you," he said quietly. Your cheeks flushed, not quite believing what you just heard. His gaze turned worried when you said nothing, and though he brought you immense pleasure, you eventually found your words.

"I love you, Xaden Riorson," you whispered, leaning up to engage him in a passionate kiss. You pulled back, still leaning up to speak directly against his lips.

"I think I've always loved you. I don't know," your breath caught as the tears came again. "I don't know how I'd ever be able to stop."

He sighed as his forehead pressed against yours, drawing in every soft moan you let out as he continued making love to you. It wasn't until you opened your eyes again that you noticed the wetness on his lower lashes, too. You reached up a shaking hand, placing it on his cheek as you wiped away at his sorrow.

He opened his eyes, looking at you once more.

"I still have to convince myself you're real," he said, the hand he had tangled in your hair moving to touch your cheek as well. "You're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I was too stupid to do anything about it."

You gasped as he rubbed against your sweet spot, one he's known and got used to over the last few years. You smiled softly, placing both hands on his shoulders once more.

"You are stupid," you joked, giggling at the way he frowned at you. You leaned in again, softly kissing at his jaw. "But you're mine."

He grunted, his grip on your waist tightening. He thrusted harder into you, drawing out your pleasure until the last possible second before sending you tumbling over the edge. He followed right behind you, gasping as he released himself within you. The two of you stayed there, one on top of the other for a while, just looking into the other's eyes. It wasn't for a while until he pulled himself out of you, opting to lay beside you and tuck you into his chest instead. You had nearly drifted off, his warmth wrapped around you reminding you how tired you'd grown afte the day's events. He kissed your forehead, over and over as the two of you fell asleep there, a quiet comfort amidst your world's constant chaos.

✧･ﾟ: *

#fourth wing xaden #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x y/n #xaden riorson x oc #xaden riorson x reader #iron flame imagine #iron flame #onyx storm #fourth wing smut #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #the empyrean series #fourth wing x you #the empyrean #read more

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lola-writes · 7 months ago

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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐈 ║ I. Adonis ║ Marcus Acacius x Hanno's sister!reader

➣ Deliciae Imperii -> Delights of the Empire

➣ Masterlist | Add yourself to my taglist | Ao3 | Ko-Fi

➣ Chapter II. | Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2,9k

Synopsis: As an esteemed warrior of the Numidian army, your world turns on its axis when you’re taken prisoner by the Romans. Ever since your stealth attack that nearly cost the General of the Roman army, Marcus Acacius, his life, he appears to have taken a special interest in you. Under his tutelage of swordplay and carnal things, you delve deeper into the heart of the Roman Empire, uncovering its instability, and Acacius’ true intentions with you…

Chapter Themes & Warnings: POV first person, use of y/n, blood, detailed descriptions of violence, terms of endearment (anaticula, Adonis), slavery, Roman history, vomiting, angst, swearing. See series masterlist for full themes & warnings!

Song: Fight for Survival – Klergy

a/n: The original plan was for this to be a oneshot, but in the end it seemed impossible. I've got a lot planned for this story. Hope you stay tuned! 🥰

Anaticula (duckling), Adonis (god of beauty and desire)

Poem by @fairytalesques

Enjoy the read!

Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

I am a rose unfurling, winter’s bloom. Poison dripping down my throat and out of my bladed fingers. I spin stars into black holes, drive monsters to extinction in the dead heat of summer. You ever stop to think what life could have been if the poison had been potent? A lifeline in the carnage. A blessing or a curse? The flower is now festering like a disease but with Adonis I’ll be safe, he keeps the antidote.

The metallic tang of blood, thick and cloying, hung heavy in the humid air, a shroud of death as thick as smoke. It was a symphony of war, conducted by the piercing shrieks of the wounded and the barked commands of the officers. A cacophony that blurred my senses as I moved with deadly precision through a haze of silver and red.

I fought with the savage efficiency of a wild animal, yet my kills were clean and quiet, each motion honed by years of training under Hanno's tutelage. My vision tunneled to a singular, deadly focus – the annhilation of the Roman usurpers by any means necessary. In this moment, I was a force of nature, an instrument of retribution. I would purge the land of their corrupted touch if I were to die trying.

The enemy pressed on, a relentless tide. For every ten I felled, another twenty rose to take their place. Yet somehow, the more I fought, the stronger I became, as though the adrenaline that infiltrated my every tissue contained a potent elixir that invigorated my muscles and dulled their exertion.

Clashing blades rang in the air. Our two armies mingled near indistinguishably; clanging, crunshing and screaming. It would be difficult to tell friend from foe, if it weren’t for the Romans distinctive galeas, the red fur frilling atop the silver helms like beckoning targets.

Just then, the crowd parted like clouds from the sun, unveiling a figure descending the battlement steps, a silhouette of lethal grace. Donning a sable breast plate emblazoned by Sol, sprawling across his chest with a douzen golden rays, he moved with the effortless grace of a dancer, his blade a blur of silver death, his countenance molded into a rigid canvas of authority. A retinue of red fringed galeas encircled him, their bodies his shields, their presence a testament to his rank.

My gaze fixed him through the crowd as the next wave of men in their peculiar-looking helmets came charging at me. I ducked, slicing open the patellas of the first two, making them buckle in the sand. The third I dodged, sidestepping before plunging my blade into his brachial plexus. The fourth I parried, our blades screeching in unison, before I kicked under his flared skirt. There wasn’t much fight left in him after that.

Jubartha’s words echoed in my mind as I tracked the approaching entourage, “Take out the leader of your enemy, and it matters not how much blood stains your sword.”

He moved fluidly like a windless sea. His spatha whipped around him, trailing shadows in the dust-ridden air, splattering the sand with blood. His expression was a paradox. As though he would not rest until Rome had pocketed another conquest, while simultaneously longing for a different fate entirely.

Crimson trailed around him like crushed punica granatum. None breached the shield of bodies surrounding him, and those who tried did not emerge alive, like prey entering a lion’s den.

I caught a glimpse of Hanno and Jubartha atop the parapet, fending off the ruthless wave from the assaulting sea. The walls had been breached, our numbers were dwindling. A sense of desperation seized me, a reckless courage driving me forward.

There was but one choice at my disposal.

I sprinted up the steps of the opposite parapet, scaling the heights with desperate urgency. Ducking behind a wooden pole, I dashed across the platform until I reached its bosom. I leaned out over its edifice, where down below, a second protective roof had been built. I started the climb downward, the splintering wood tearing at my hands like an angry cat. I landed on the roof with a thud and crouched towards the edge. Our men were still charging through the opening of the parapet, but before I knew it, they began to slow, getting knocked back by the shield wall of fearsome Roman guards. I rose to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, adrenaline surging through my bloodstream. My hand found the hilt of my sword and clasped it into place. For what I was about to do, risking becoming unarmed was to invite my doom.

The chaotic shadowy flare of guards flanking the steady shadow of an unyielding assassin grew in the sand below. I filled my lungs, washing out the biting fear of death creeping around the edges.

A warrior’s oath echoed in my mind: I am Numidia.

I dipped, toes to the edge. A head of dark and silver emerged below.

What could go wrong?

I leapt.

The fall felt decelerated, as if in a dream, and all surrounding noise faded underwater. My feet met his back, and a heavy grunt of startlement escaped him as he fell forward. His body broke my fall, and I rolled with the force of the impact, swiftly regaining my footing as I turned to face him. Dazed for but a second, his face dusted with sand, he grappled for his sword. But before he managed to get a proper grasp of the hilt, I pressed my boot atop his knuckles. He groaned in frustration behind gritted teeth. The next second, my one hand had clasped the knife from my boot, while the other had gathered a fistful of his hair and snatched him backward.

In the third second, my blade was poised at his throat, ready to claim his life when, for reasons unexplained, the edge paused in his skin.

In the fourth second, I had met his eyes, and an unfamilliar current passed down my spine. They were big, and brown, and full of contradictions, staring up at me with equal surprise, malice, and admiration. But no fear. His chest was heaving. His hair was a full, tangled mess of black and silver beneath my fingers, textured from the unsettled sand. The strands of silver had leaked into his beard which covered his dark, dirt-and blood-spattered complexion. His nose was sharp, angled like the limb of a bow, and his lips were slightly parted from gnashed teeth. The wound I had inflicted seemed to defy the vision of him I had before me, bleeding red but ichor.

In the fifth second his resistance faltered, his head growing heavy against me. But before I could savour my victory, a sharp blow clattered my teeth, and suddenly my body was not my own. My vision blurred, my ears buzzed, and my fingers loosened the grip of the knife, no matter how hard I fought against it.

In the sixth second, I was laying in the sand, grasping for consciousness. I thought I could hear Hanno screaming in the distance, but it was just beneath the surface. Gathering the last ounces of strength I had left I reached for the blade laying inches away. The contours of Adonis hovered over me, as one of the guards kicked my weapon out of reach. My other hand dragged itself to my waist, half-limb, seeking to undo the clasp to my sword.

“Tsk tsk tsk...” Adonis clicked his tongue. I winced as his boot came down on my hand, pressing down. “You have some fight in you, anaticula,” his voice, laced with what I would percieve as… concern, circulated around my head like a distant echo. “Grab her.” The words consumed me, nuzzling my cognisance like a warm blanket, and as I lifted off the ground, I faded into oblivion.

Vae victis. Woe to the vanquished.

The declaration travelled with me between the realms of my unconsciousness, followed by the distant wails of bereaved mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters.

I awoke to the comforting crackle of the fire we used to cook our supper. The air was thick with the scent of fresh fish, and the vague neigh of my stallion drifted in from outside. I sighed, nuzzling my face into the pillow, and was captivated by the unfamiliar softness of it. Something was different. The ground beneath me seemed to shift and sway, and as I opened my eyes, the pillow under my cheek was foreign to me – vibrant with patterns winding around the fabric like climbing vines.

Reality slowly dawned. I was not home. And the crackle of the fire and the neighing from my stallion was in fact the creaking and squeaking of ship timbers.

I groaned as a sharp pain lanced through my skull. Everything came back to me. The Roman invasion. The battle. The blow to the head. Adonis …

My breath stilled when I met his gaze across the room. Clad in the same sable armor and a royal scarlet cape, he was seated at the head of a table bedecked in plates of fish, cheese, fruit and caraffes of wine. He held my stare with a distant look of interest, rolling a purple grape between his fingers before plopping it into his mouth, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

The throbbing pain pulsed in my temple in tune with my heart as I sat up on the setee. Sludge stuck to my thoughts and it felt as though my center of gravity was off the way the room kept rocking.

“Easy,” came his voice, a low rumble. His chewing ceased, his movements stilled, as if ready to rise in haste.

The ship’s rhythmic rocking intensified, the sound of waves lapping against the hull growing louder. A cold sweat broke out on my brow. My breathing surged and grew ragged, trying to subdue the rolling sense of nausea consuming me.

But it was futile.

With a violent shudder, I retched, the contents of my stomach emptying onto the wooden planks.

I stared blankly at my mess, a strange blend of satisfaction and shame washing over me. Relishing at the thought of having defiled the ship of the Roman usurpers, I was humbled by doing so in front of the man who I failed to kill. My guts were ready to spill again at the very thought.

His chair creaked against the floor as he rose. I only saw his legs as he approached, dropping to his haunches in front of me – in my vomit, and I recoiled, equally to his sudden advance as to the indignity of it. He moved with intent, the scarlet cape pooled around him, and I could not help but feel intimidated. It was like he didn’t know what he was standing in. Or rather, didn’t care. Furthermore, based off his attire alone, he was too high in station to be on his knees for a commoner like me. Even less, kneeling in a commoner’s bodily fluid.

He was so cool and calculated, from how he moved to how his gaze settled on mine, though something alive played in his dark brown eyes. Something that could snap at any second. His complexion was still riddled with dried dirt and blood from the battle, and the cut in his neck had leaked down his throat like spilt ink.

I knew not if it was the sudden uprising of nerves, his closeness, or a result of the blow to my head, but the words slipped past my lips without thought. “You’re a truly terrible commander.” I dried the dribble off my chin with the back of my hand.

A furrow etched between his brows and genuine concern flickered in his eyes, like he was contemplating whether it might be true. “I conquered your city,” he parried.

“I nearly killed you,” I retorted.

A hint of malice clouded his features. “Nearly.” His tone of voice gathered timber; that the word came off as a threat.

He stared at me. The urge to look away was so strong it itched beneath my skin. He expected me to. Though something foreign and astute made me persevere. Holding eye contact with him felt like a deadly game. But it also evoked a whisper of adrenaline, as warm as spiced wine.

Finally, his eyes drifted downward to the pool of vomit at his feet. “I’ll have someone clean this up,” he said, before leaning forward and putting his arms around me.

Adrenaline shot through me like a violent storm, and I pushed him away instinctively. His face was a mask of indifference, and he reached for me again, and this time he didn’t let go, no matter how hard I fought him. He carried me up off the settee as I kicked, squealed, grunted and clawed. My mind raced with the thoughts of what he might do to me. His breast plate was ice cold against my skin, but I was too frantic to notice. I came to my senses once he dropped me down in a chair next to the table. He glared at me, clearly unimpressed by my defiance, before grabbing a plate off the table, methodically filling it with a chaotic assortment.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, breaking off a twig of grapes as a final touch before serving it to me, rounding the table to seat himself.

I simply gaped at him, too bewildered to respond. My chest heaved from exertion, my tense body clutching onto the wood of the chair, trembling slightly from the waning adrenaline spike.

“You need not fear me, anaticula,” he soothed. His voice was a strange blend of velvet and steel, a combination I believed to be uniquely his; calming and unsettling me in equal measure. And despite the ingrained hatred I harbored towards his people, an inexplicable, vexing trust for him began to bloom within me.

“I am General Marcus Acacius,” he boomed, as though I would have trouble hearing him from across the table. Where he came from, I’d wager men stood to attention at the mere mention of him, but I remained indifferent. Belittling him was all the power I had.

His name grew heavy in the air, silence stretching. I’d expected him to explain my fate next. That I would be sold as a slave for men to plunder as they wished, or perhaps executed for having his life at my disposal. Perhaps he’d do it himself.

“What do I call you?” he asked finally.

“Whyever does that matter?” I snapped.

“Is it so strange to wish to know the name of the woman who nearly killed me?” His voice dipped at the very mention of it.

“I’ll be dead soon enough,” I said with feigned indifference. Acacius stiffened, watching me carefully. “Or if you do not kill me, I’d kill myself before I ever become a slave.” I watched him relax slightly and continue his meal.

“That’s not going to happen,” he muttered inbetween chews.

My gut flared with anticipation, “Which part?” I demanded.

He looked up at me. “What’s your name?” he asked, deliberately ignoring my question.

“Y/N,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

He repeated my name, the sound rolling off his tongue like honey while he fixed me with his eyes dark like amber. I grew strangely warm and restless, and a sudden urge to flee seized me, a wild beast gnawing at my nerves.

“Where is my brother?” I blurted out, rather raggedly, a note of desperation creeping in, but as I did, I recalled I had not seen Hanno since the start of the battle. Was he even alive?

“Your brother?” he asked, like the notion I’d have a family was aberrant to him, a fleeting spark of uncertainty passing through his eyes. He swallowed sharply, picking at the salted fish on his plate. “With the other prisoners,” he muttered.

“So,” I began, molding myself out of the rigid posture I had assumed, and leaned forward. “Why am I here?” I asked, casting a disapproving look around his opulent cabin.

He stopped and fixed me with a gaze ice-cold. “For safe keeping,” he said sternly. “You nearly killed me today, Y/N. I wouldn’t want to find out what else you’re capable of.”

Vague images flickered before my eyes – chaos, then darkness. “You talk as if it’s some big feat,” I scoffed.

His eyes, twin pools of lethal venom, bored into me. “I assure you,” he hissed, resting his bracers against the edge of the table, a hint of admonition lingering in his voice, “It is.”

My face heated at the thought of having impressed him, but the word ‘nearly’ was a nettlesome creature.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” I said, the words bitter on my tongue.

Acacius cocked his brows in recognition and poured wine. “Why didn’t you?” he asked, raising the cup to his lips.

The question caught me off guard, and a bitter taste filled my mouth. I recalled myself hesitating. I had the blade at his throat. I could have ended the battle there and then, declared Numidia victorious against the power of Rome. But I couldn’t do it.

“I-,” I don’t know, I thought.

A sharp knock on the door shattered the silence, and a sentry entered the room, bowing slightly. “General Acacius,” he spoke, his voice laced with duty and reverence. “Rome awaits.”

Chapter II. | Series Masterlist | Chapter III

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cece693 · 3 months ago

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Just an idea that suddenly came to mind. What if you (the reader) have to fight Bucky during his winter soldier programming? What if something similar occurs to you guys as it did with Vision and Wanda? I plan for this to be divided into two parts since I don't have an ending in mind and this post isn't doing it for me. Hope you enjoy!

I Forgive You

pairing: bucky barnes x gender neutral reader tags: bucky can't catch a break, you are strong (power and skill wise), takes place during infinity war, open ended

You perch on the edge of the facility’s rooftop, the evening breeze ruffling through your hair as you stare off into the distance. The compound below you hums with activity—footsteps, clanging metal, distant voices—evidence of the Avengers preparing for the battles to come. You’re one of them now, and not just any member: you’re often dubbed the “strongest Avenger.” Some might say that’s an exaggeration, but you know what you’re capable of. You’ve trained in every form of combat you could get your hands on—hand-to-hand, swords, firearms. And to cap it all off, you possess powers that make you a formidable force, even among Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Still, when you’re alone, your thoughts drift to him. James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes—your friend, your partner, the man you fell in love with. You think back to those frantic days when you found yourself on opposite sides in the battle between Tony and Steve. You were forging your own path, torn by loyalty and your own moral compass. Bucky was caught in the crossfire of past sins and present accusations. Through the chaos, you discovered each other and headed to Wakanda for Bucky to finally heal and escape the ghosts of his past. But things never were that easy.

The last 'normal' day you had with him you'll treasure for eternity. Bright golden rays washed over the Wakandan horizon the morning Shuri completed Bucky’s deprogramming. The moment felt surreal, the two of you standing among those tall grasses and budding flowers, watching the sun’s first light spread across the sky. Bucky’s hand tentatively found yours, his metal fingers brushing your palm. Despite all the horrors you’d both seen, despite the fracture lines left in his mind, he looked at you like you were his anchor to a life without darkness.

“You okay?” you asked him quietly, lacing your fingers with his.

He gave you a lopsided smile. “I’m not sure I deserve to be, but for the first time in a while, I feel almost free.”

And you believed him. You had to—he needed that belief.

Of course, that's when Thanos appeared, drawing you and Bucky into the largest battle Earth had ever faced. Battle lines were drawn in Wakanda, where countless outriders of Thanos’s army threatened to overrun the nation.

During the fray, you unleashed the full extent of your powers. Energy crackled around you, turning each of your blows into seismic shockwaves. You were almost unstoppable. At your side, Bucky fought with lethal precision, his vibranium arm glinting in the sunlight as bullets whizzed past. The synergy between you two was remarkable, like a dance choreographed through countless training hours and mutual trust.

But trust is fragile in the face of unimaginable power.

Suddenly, you felt a colossal presence. Looking up, your gaze locked onto the towering figure of Thanos. He stepped through the remnants of the battlefield, the Infinity Gauntlet glowing with stolen Stones. Even from a distance, you saw his gaze flick over your form, and something sparked behind his violet eyes—recognition. Fear, perhaps. The Titan raised his armored hand. A wave of twisted energy arced in your direction. You braced yourself, arms crossed in front of your body, channeling every ounce of power you had to shield your allies from the blast. Still, the force knocked you back, sending you tumbling across the ravaged earth.

When the shock subsided, a chill shot down your spine. You stood, shaking off the impact, and found the battlefield too quiet. Your eyes landed on Bucky just in time to see him freeze. His face contorted; his pupils dilated. It happened in a split second.

Hydra’s trigger words, carried on a faint, telepathic echo you couldn’t hear but Bucky could. An alien whisper from Thanos’s cosmic manipulations. And just like that, the Winter Soldier emerged once more. His steel-blue eyes turned ice-cold. The gentle man you loved disappeared behind an all-too-familiar mask of lethal focus. He turned away from the outriders, ignoring Thanos for the moment. His sights honed in on you.

“Bucky?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his lips parted, eyes dark with an unspoken mission. This time, the programming was crystal clear: Take you out. Kill the one threat that even Thanos couldn't account for. Your greatest strength had painted a target on your back. You raised your hands, glowing with the power you wielded. But your heart pounded. Could you really fight him at full strength? Bucky—your Bucky—was somewhere behind that cold stare.

“Stand down!” Steve’s voice cut through the chaos, but Bucky didn’t listen. He pivoted, leveling his gun at Steve, forcing the Captain to dodge.

“Barnes, snap out of it!” Natasha shouted, but her attempts to get close were cut off by a brutal strike from Bucky’s vibranium arm. Everyone else was busy trying to fend off the onslaught of Thanos’s forces. Your team needed your power, but now you were pinned in a conflict of your own.

Bucky lunged at you, knife flashing. You parried with your forearm, each metallic clash echoing in the war-torn field. You had no intention of hurting him, so you held back, turning your power inward, using just enough to keep him off-balance. His movements were a lethal dance—calculated, relentless, unstoppable. Blow after blow, you deflected each strike, trying to talk him down. “Bucky, it’s me!” you cried, voice cracking. “You don’t want to do this!”

For a heartbeat, his eyes seemed to flicker, memories surfacing. The time you both sat under the Wakandan sunrise, the moments you’d shared—everything hung between you. Then the programming crushed it back down. His knife sliced through the air again. You twisted, sidestepping, but you were too concerned with not harming him, too torn by love and heartbreak. The blade found its mark.

A searing pain tore through your abdomen. Your eyes went wide, and a gasp tore from your throat. One heartbeat, two—time slowed. Your hands flew to the wound, crimson blooming across your fingertips. The world started spinning.

Bucky stood over you, knife still gripped in his metal hand. His expression was empty, but the second he saw your blood pooling on the battlefield, the mask began to crack. His breathing quickened; panic gripped him. Something deep within those blue eyes shattered.

“No,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “No, no, no…”

You collapsed to your knees, desperately trying to keep pressure on the wound. The pain was staggering, and your vision wavered at the edges as you fought against the darkness creeping in. The din of the battlefield—roaring explosions, clashing metal, and desperate shouts—faded into an echo, leaving only the trembling sound of Bucky’s voice. The knife clattered to the ground from his shaking hand, the cold light in his eyes replaced by raw horror.

Bucky dropped beside you, arms sliding around your body. Another wave of agony made you cry out, yet you clung to the faint relief of his warmth—even if it was stained by regret. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. His vibranium hand cradled your cheek as though you were made of porcelain. “I’m so sorry.”

The Winter Soldier façade seemed to shatter then, peeling away like a final layer of armor. What remained was Bucky Barnes—the man you loved, tears tracking down his face in heart-wrenching clarity. Meeting his gaze, you rallied the last of your strength, silently conveying what words couldn’t: You forgave him. You loved him.

In the distance, Thanos lumbered toward the heart of the battle, where your fellow Avengers continued to fight, unaware of the private tragedy unfolding. The war raged on, but in that moment, time felt suspended—for you, for Bucky, for everything else that mattered.

With trembling fingers, he pressed down on your wound, desperate to stop the flow of blood. “Not you too,” he pleaded, voice tight with fear. “Please don’t leave me.” You forced a weak smile; you refused to let your final expression be one of despair. You wouldn’t let Bucky’s last memory of you be filled with nothing but tears and regret.

Bucky’s grip on you tightened, as if he could anchor you to consciousness by sheer will. Each breath you took felt like shards of glass in your lungs, but you clung to awareness, swallowing down the pain.

“Stay with me,” Bucky begged. He looked up frantically, searching for help that was nowhere to be found—Shuri was likely in the labs, the medical units were overrun, and Wakanda’s defensive lines were collapsing under Thanos’s onslaught. “I’ll—I’ll get you to someone. We’ll find a healer—”

“Bucky.” Your voice trembled, but you forced each syllable past your dry lips. You reached up with a shaking hand, brushing aside a strand of his hair matted with dirt and sweat. “Don’t…don’t blame yourself.”

His eyes squeezed shut as tears rolled freely, wetting the blood-streaked dirt beneath you both. The regret in his gaze was heartbreaking. “I wasn’t in control,” he rasped, “but it was still my hand. And I—”

You pressed weakly against his cheek with your palm, stopping him. You didn’t have enough breath to argue, so you let your eyes speak your truth: He had been a pawn once again, manipulated by Thanos’s cruel plans. You forgave him—truly. He held your hand against his stubbled jaw, turning his face into your touch. His vibranium arm remained clamped over your wound, red seeping over silver. Every passing second felt like a lifetime.

Above you, the sky lit up with another shower of blasts, the barrier around Wakanda flickering under the assault. Your teammates were fighting valiantly—Steve, Natasha, Sam, Wanda, T’Challa—all risking their lives to push Thanos back. But you knew the Titan’s power was immense. If even your strength might not be enough to stop him, how could anyone else stand a chance? In your heart, you felt a pang of guilt for not being out there, protecting the team as you always had. But there was no denying your body was failing, and Bucky’s terrified eyes told you he could feel it too.

“Help!” His cry rose into the chaos, ragged and desperate. “Somebody help!”

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airosuiren · 2 months ago

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𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℭ𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔫 ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡

𝔓𝔄ℜ𝔗 𝔒𝔑𝔈: Bat family x Neglected illegitimate reincarnated reader x Oc. {Royal historical au.}

A/N: EEEEEE I’ve been waiting to drop this!!! This is the origin story of [Y/N], Queen of Virelya (aka pre-Gotham), her rise, her fall, and her rebirth. You’ll meet her soul-bound companions, her past-life husband (hello, Evander Thorne 😍), and see how she goes from unloved Wayne kid to the returned monarch of a world long-forgotten. Buckle up. This one gets mythic. This is not the usual style cuz I'm experimenting to find MY style. lmk if you liked it

𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 2

The world knew her first as a slave.

In the blood-soaked mines beneath the Hollow Mountains, [Y/N] had no name, no rights, and no future. But even in chains, she dreamed. She dreamed of a land where justice ruled, where no child slept in fear, where power served peace. And when the gods answered her dreams, they didn’t send salvation.

They sent companions.

Alarion Vael'Thyr was the first. A former prince turned exile, Alarion found [Y/N] when she escaped the mines and collapsed at the edge of a ruined forge. His hair glowed like firelight; his eyes held centuries of sorrow. He gave her warmth, food, and the strength to keep going. He taught her how to fight. And when her fury over injustice ignited, he taught her how to forge it into flame.

Next came Lysandra Solenhart, a noble-born oracle who had ripped out her own eyes to stop seeing the lies of kings. She had been wandering, blind and brilliant, until she heard [Y/N]'s voice in a vision. She found [Y/N] and Alarion on the edge of a battlefield, and said, simply, "You shine with the light of truth. I will follow it."

Kaelen Rhyzar joined them in the city of broken statues. A former paladin-turned-renegade, he had become a weapon without a master. When [Y/N] called out to the people during a rebellion, he watched her bleed for strangers and knew his new god had arrived. From that day, he swore himself to her cause.

With each companion came a gift.

Lysandra's Moonvein Sight allowed her to read shadow-script—the secrets etched in time, objects, and people.

Alarion's Heart of the Wyrmforge allowed him to forge weapons from pure emotion, flame and steel made one.

Kaelen's Living Armory let him summon divine weapons and battle auras from a celestial vault known only to him.

And then there was [Y/N].

When she saved a dying child in a storm, reality buckled. The world paused. She cried a single tear—the Tear of Elyndor, the divine essence of lost time and life. That tear resurrected the child and awakened her power. She could now bend time, shift fate, glimpse truths, and touch emotion like threads in a loom.

She did not want a throne. But people demanded one.

They called him the Winter Wolf.

Evander Thorne, warden of the north, warlord of the frozen wilds. He led armies through storms without saying a word. Men followed him blindly, out of fear or faith.

He met [Y/N] during a siege. Her army was losing, magic dwindling, hope flickering. And then the snow parted. He rode through the mist like a god of war, his blade slicing silence into the air.

She stood in the wreckage, bloodied and defiant. He dismounted without speaking.

"You're late," she said, panting, sword raised.

He didn’t answer. He only looked at her, eyes like ice, and knelt.

"My Fire," he murmured.

She blinked, startled. "You remember."

He took her hand and kissed it, reverent. "In every life. I would find you in every life."

She laughed through blood and tears. "I needed you."

"And now you have me," he said. "Forever."

Evander never left her side again. He stood behind her throne, silent and still. He held her when her nightmares returned. He whispered ancient poems in her ear when she couldn’t sleep.

In public, he was the sword of the queen. In private, he was hers entirely.

They trained together. They sparred until bruised and breathless. They argued in old tongues, kissed in empty war rooms, danced barefoot on frozen battlements.

"You trust too easily," he growled one night.

"And you not enough," she replied, tilting her head.

He pulled her into his chest. "I trust you. That is enough."

She laid her head against him. "Then build with me. A kingdom where no child fears."

He tightened his arms. "I would burn the world for it."

Virelya rose. A kingdom of magic, fire, frost, and dream. Her companions ruled distant realms, but returned often. Their children were legendary, half-divine.

[Y/N] and Evander ruled with fierce grace. They fought side by side. He watched her light grow brighter with every battle, every speech, every child she saved.

And she—she loved him not for his blade, but for the way he stayed. Always, he stayed.

They died as they lived—together. Peace achieved. Their work done. The world mourned.

Centuries passed.

[Y/N] awoke in Gotham.

No crown. No court. No Evander.

Only cold silence. And the bitter taste of being forgotten.

She was the twin who didn’t matter. But her magic whispered beneath her skin. Her past clawed at her in dreams.

Then came the child.

"Live as me," she said, and handed over a golden coin.

Everything returned.

[Y/N] fled Gotham and found war in the north.

She fought. Rose. Became myth again.

And then she saw him.

Evander.

Standing at the edge of the battlefield, cloak of wolf fur, sword already bloody.

He saw her and dropped to his knees. "My Fire."

She ran to him, armor clanging, tears spilling.

"You always find me."

"And I always will," he whispered.

He cupped her face, kissed her forehead. "No one will take you from me again."

"I won’t let them."

They stood like that, gods reborn.

Lysandra, Alarion, Kaelen returned.

The court rebuilt.

And [Y/N] sat the throne once more.

Evander stood beside her.

And the world would learn:

She had not been lost. She had only been waiting.

A/N: WHEW my soul is in this one. I wanted more Evander/[Y/N] moments and I hope you felt every stare, every touch, every whispered vow. Let me know if you want a bonus chapter with their private moments or flashbacks from their past life!! Long live the Queen 🖤👑

(Also lmk if you want suggestive chapter between [Y/N] and Evander 😉)

Taglist: @trashlanternfish360, @nixxiev, @eclipse-msoul, @plsfckmedxddy, @viilan, @kittzu, @bunniotomia, @bunniotomia, @rattyrattyratty, @texas-fox, @1abi, @niamcarlin,@tomoyaki, @silken-moons, @kittzu

#𝔖𝔲𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔫 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔰 #batman #neglected reader #x reader #fanfic #batfamily #batfam #batkids #batfam x neglected reader #xoc #x oc #royal au #fantasy au #queen #yandere batfam #yandere male #yandere #soft yandere

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