#then they always smirk and slam down the like quarter in change they get after cashing out like wow really worth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberrywritersguild · 1 year

Text

♡ The Little Things: Chapter 2 - Cuisine and Company ♡

Pairing: Julian Bashir x gn!reader Word Count: 3519 words Summary: The historian invites Julian for dinner in their quarters as thanks for taking care of them. They introduce him to several historic cuisines, one of which has strange side-effects.

It'd been three days since you arrived on to Deep Space 9. After the disaster that was your first day aboard, you'd gotten rather comfortably situated in your quarters and work-space, and all your medical files were finally delivered to doctor Bashir. Now, all that was really left to do was to get acquainted with people.

And who better for that task than the pretty doctor who'd gone and looked after you during your vulnerable time. If he would be amenable of course, which you weren't certain of. It's like he'd been avoiding you.

And there he went again, spotting you on your way to the infirmary and turning back around.

"Good doctor!" you call, jogging to catch up to him. Julian's face instantly flushes, his eyes looking around for an escape route. There is none. "Would you, perhaps, join me on the promenade for a quick bite to eat? As a thank you, for taking such good care of me."

"I, uh, I- I would be most glad to, but- I have-" Julian stammers, not entirely certain if he's trying to refuse or accept. Oh, he'd love nothing more than to spend some time with you, but he couldn't help but keep staring at your lips, and that smirk, and remember how soft they were-

"Good doctor, I happen to be very aware that it's your lunch hour. So, would you prefer terran food, or something more exciting?" You ask, turning the both of you around smoothly. Julian doesn't even fully realize that it's happened and just goes along with it. You smirk. He's so cute.

You lead the two of you over to the promenade, silently watching Julian's face change as he comes to the realization of what's happening. Usually you'd be chatting people's ears off, but you really don't want to scare any potential friends you might make on the station.

"I've not yet become fully acquainted with your food situation, so if you have any recommendations give them now." You startle Julian, who turns to you with wide eyes. "If you don't, we could always go to Quark's-"

"No, no!" Julian immediately stops you, horrified at the idea. "There's plenty of other good establishments to enjoy-"

Just then, a huge bang echoes from ahead of you, near the food court. The two of you halt, look at each other, then ahead.

"…Would you…" you turn to Julian and take his hands into yours. "Would you rather come to my quarters, I could make something for us there?"

"It's fine, I'm sure that was nothi-" Another bang, followed by a crash. Julian winces, and smiles awkwardly. "On the other hand, I would love to see what you could come up with."

"I hope I'll be able to impress." You say, bringing his hands to an almost kiss, before dragging him off towards the crew quarters.

"And this is a lovely Vulcan salad, from about six centuries in the past. I learned to make it during a trip to Vulcan about sixty years ago." You set down a bowl of fresh blues, Julian eyeing the strange colours. "It's made with a type of salad that's since gone extinct."

"Delightful. Thank you." Julian nods, taking some of the salad onto his plate. It's already pretty full of strange looking food, at least to him.

"I'll think up some interesting dessert while we eat." You sit down, taking some of the Trill arbon soup onto your plate. You smile placatingly, watching Julian poke at his food.

"So, uh… how are you settling in?" Julian asks, clearly trying to stall having to test your food.

"Very well, good doctor. I've found this station to be… interesting." you smirk, taking a bite out of your meal. Julian, observing it, dares to take a small bite.

"Mm!" Julian perks up, slamming his fingers on his mouth. You look to him with concern, wondering if you'd fucked up the Gandorik mousunt meat. Then, he starts smiling. "This is the best thing I've ever had!"

You give a sigh of relief, relaxing into your seat. "Oh, thank goodness. The last time I made anything Gandorik was my last host."

"No, no, this is truly some of the best food I've ever had." Julian assures you, testing the soup. "Your last host, who was he?"

"Asquil (MC), my twentieth host. He was a brilliant man, documented the entirety of Trill history into a book. He was the one who started on our work to actually document everything." You explain, gesturing with your fork. Julian seems invested, which encourages you to continue. "He was one of my longest living hosts, spent the last few years of his life opposing the destruction of the Klorian historical archives, to the misfortune of the current ruling party. He managed it, considered his life work to be done, and I came to take his place."

"How old are you exactly? You said Asquil was your twentieth host, you must be rather old then." Julian asks.

You sigh, thinking back on the years and years of living in your head. "I'm almost 2000 years old. Which is rather old for a joined symbiote, but I'm… special."

"Special? In what way?" Julian asks, wondering if it's a medical or mental thing.

"I'm… smaller, than all the other symbionts. I've always been, always will be. By all predictions, I'll still be viable for joining for another thousand years."

"Is it a hormonal thing?" Julian wonders, almost wanting to get his medical tricorder to check.

"Yes, I have growth hormone deficiency. I don't really mind, it allows me to be humanoid a lot longer." You mutter, poking at your food.

"But it's still something you find embarrassing." Julian observes, noting your sudden lack of confidence.

"It's like being the shortest in class, despite being the oldest. None of the others dare make fun of me anymore, but they sure did back when I was young. So it's a bit of a sensitive topic, even now." You explain, biting your Ooluvian shick bread, mostly so that you don't have to talk anymore.

"But now you're older than any of the others, and wiser, because of it." Julian notes.

"Well…" you purse your lips, not looking up from your meal. "I guess."

You don't say anything further, and Julian doesn't really know what to say either. The two of you eat in silence for a moment before Julian decides to just change the topic.

"So, was it Asquil who first got you into food history?" He asks. You laugh, finally looking up at him.

"Absolutely not, Asquil was the worst cook anyone's ever met. It was Hosor, my seventh host, who first started looking into food cultures. These are all from his recipe book." You explain, looking excited to be talking again. Julian's relieved to see that. He's decided that you don't look right without a smile.

"Recipe book?"

"Yes!" You lean closer towards Julian, your voice climbing up. "Back then, we didn't have replicators, so it was vital that every step be recorded. And even after we got access to replicators, I personally liked making my own food."

"You can cook?" Julian raises one of his brows, not sure why he's so surprised.

"Yes, though not as well as I used to. Asquil was such a clutch in the kitchen that all knowledge in the world about cooking couldn't have helped him. I haven't actually cooked since." You explain.

"Well, I'd love to see you try." Julian teases.

"I might have to some day. Maybe I'll even teach you how to. Teaching someone can be very… intimate." You giggle, waving your fork at him. Julian blushes, suddenly the one having to look away. You stand up and head for the replicator. "That reminds me, dessert is in order."

"What… what exactly are we having?" Julian asks, suddenly realizing that you've both finished your meals.

"Songean chocolate lake." you answer, bringing over a bowl of something clearly made of chocolate. At least this one doesn't look to strange, by Julian's standards anyways.

"I love chocolate." Julian says.

"I'd predicted so." You say while sitting down. Julian goes to take some to his dessert bowl, before you intercept his hands. "Let me." You smile, holding his hands on the bowl while you ladle him some.

"T-thank you, professor." Julian says, bringing his bowl towards himself once you're done. Your smile turns into a smirk while you take your portion.

"You're welcome." You wink. Julian quickly looks down at his own bowl and spoons some into his mouth. It's the best damn thing he's ever tasted.

It doesn't take long until conversation starts sailing again, though the eating takes a while. Good conversation can really distract the company.

After you're finally finished, you escort Julian to your quarter's door. You're a bit reluctant to let him go, but it's getting late and you're still trying to adjust to the rhythm aboard the station.

"I hope you enjoyed your stay, good doctor." you say, still holding onto his hand as he stands on the other side of the door.

"It was absolutely terrifying." He answers, smiling.

"…" Your eyes widen. "What?"

"I was scared to come here, mostly because you're really attractive and I don't really know what to do with that." Julian continues, before pausing. He comes to some sort of realization causing his smile to fade. "…I didn't mean to say that."

"Good doctor, I think it's best we stop by the infirmary, don't you think?" You take a hold of his other hand, guiding him towards the infirmary.

"I think it's for the best as well, but I would very much like to stay in your quarters much more." Julian says, before once again realizing he talked too much.

"Very flattering, good doctor, but maybe some other time." you smile placatingly, before looking ahead with a panicked look. You have no idea what's happening, and you don't like it.

"So you're saying that he can't tell anything but the truth?" Jadzia asks, looking between you and Julian, who's sitting on one of the med beds. You'd called for her the instant you arrived in the infirmary and realized that a science officer might be of more use than a nurse.

"Yes, it started the moment he left my quarters." You explain.

"And what were you doing before that?" Jadzia asks, raising one of her brows. You have a feeling she's had that same look around you before.

"I'd invited Julian for dinner, mostly just to tease him because I realized he's attracted to me." You prattle, before pausing. "I…"

"Didn't mean to say that?" Jadzia asks, her brow raising higher.

"Yes…"

"It seems you've been affected as well." Jadzia laughs.

"It seems so, yes." You sit down next to Julian, feeling a bit faint. Julian sets a hand on your shoulder, which you pat.

"Well, I'll look into it." Jadzia promises. "Meanwhile, how about you two look into this as well."

"Sure, sure." You wave as she leaves, still chuckling about the whole thing. You glare after her. "Dax did always like to get on my nerves, no matter the host."

"That something you wanted to say, or something you had to say?" Julian asks.

"Both." You grumble. You pat the bed harshly and stand up. "Well, time to get into my files to see if I can find anything."

"I'll do the same then." Julian stands up as well, and both of you find places to work in the room. You probably already know what's wrong, but your memory is so long, and your mind so tiny, that sometimes you forget. That's why you're trying to get everything documented.

The two of you work in silence for a long while before the door chimes suddenly again. You look up and see a cardassian walking in. No one seems alarmed, so this must be the Garak you've heard about.

"Well well, dear doctor, I heard you'd had a little incident during lunch." Garak smiles, to which Julian looks both a little alarmed and defeated.

"Yes. One could say that." Julian shuts his mouth as quickly as he can. Garak smiles endearingly at that.

"Dear doctor, you're much less talkative than usual. Something you don't want to say?" he chuckles, leaning closer to Julian who's looking more and more annoyed.

Julian bites his cheek, doing anything he can to not start talking. You watch amused as Garak keeps trying to provoke the good doctor. You leave the two of them to it, going back to your files.

"Really, dear doctor, it's nothing to be embarrassed abou-" Garak's teasing is interrupted by your shout.

"Found it!" you jump up from your seat, clutching your pad. You look to the two confused friends. "I found what caused it!"

"Really?!" Julian shouts back, getting up from his seat to stand behind you.

"Yes, I'm afraid I forgot about the side effects of the main ingredient in Songean chocolate lake. Kayron roots have a truth-serum like effect. It's why it's no longer made anywhere." You explain, going further into the files. "It seems an antidote does exist, on Songe. I just don't have on file what it is, so we won't be able to replicate it."

"Seems your only option is going to Songe yourself and getting it." Garak points out, to which you groan.

"Songe is a highly isolationist planet. They're not going to take well to a visit." You mutter, setting your pad aside.

"Well, maybe it's better you stay this way then." Garak suggests, to which both you and Julian groan. Garak chuckles, moving towards the door. "Have fun, you two!"

"I don't understand why you like him." you mutter to Julian.

"Sometimes, I don't either." he answers back. You snort, laughing slightly. Julian looks highly offended, which makes you laugh harder.

You, Julian and Jadzia are aboard the USS Ganges, getting ready to leave for Songe. You still think this is going to be a waste of time, but you don't exactly have any other options. You don't fancy being under the effects of the Kayron root for the rest of your life, no matter how amusing it is.

"It'll take us about six hours to reach Songe, so get comfortable in the meanwhile." Jadzia informs you, to which both you and Julian nod to. You've both become remarkable quiet lately, something which only Jadzia is able to fully enjoy. No one else aboard the station has been subjected to just how much you can run your mouth yet.

"So, which of your hosts are we to blame for this one?" Julian asks, and Jadzia can't help giving a deep sigh once you open your mouth. So much for peace and quiet.

After six hours of torture (if you asked Jadzia anyways) you reach the star system Songe resides in. You give a deep sigh, as the conclusion you've come to is that you'll have to negotiate with the Songean people. Something you're not looking forward to.

"I thought one of your previous hosts was an ambassador. I'm sure this'll be a peace of cake for you." Jadzia reminds you, though you're certain it's more Dax than her.

"Yes, Thedius. He was good, an excellent one in fact. But that was over a thousand years ago, the rules have changed, so to speak." you mutter, biting your nails. As soon as you notice, you stop. You hate doing that.

"No one after that has been an ambassador?" Julian asks.

"No, it was soon after that that we became permanently just 'the professor'. Sure, I've had talks every once in a while, but nothing serious."

"And yet you're the favorite Trill of many a planet." Jadzia mentions, smiling secretively. Julian wonders what that's about, but decides not to ask. He knows you couldn't help answering even if it was a secret of some kind.

You look not too thrilled by her insinuation. You can sense Julian's curious stare and turn to him. "I'll tell you about it later." Julian nods, confident in your promise.

"I'll try and initiate communication with them now." Jadzia announces, prompting you to get in front of the communications screen. A few screen taps and a tense moment of silence later, a blue feathered alien appears on screen.

"This is President Fulkaid of the Songe Communion Circle. What is your business here?" The alien greets you, giving you a strange salute. You nod back in greeting.

"I am Loriaz (MC), a historian from the planet Trill. We're very sorry to disturb you, I understand you aren't too keen on it. But we have a bit of a problem only you could help with." You say back, not even attempting to give the salute back. You have a feeling they wouldn't take likely to you botching it, or even attempting it.

"What might your problem be?" President Fulkaid asks, looking mildly interested.

"Me and a colleague of mine were affected by the Kayron root. If my notes are correct, the only antidote exists on your planet." you explain, getting a few nods from the president.

"I understand, but to make sure that you are in fact telling the truth, we'd like to ask some questions from you. And you cannot step foot on the planet, it'd be against our laws."

"I understand." you say. The president nods, getting a pad from someone out of view. Their feathers ruffle a bit.

"Are you here with honourable intentions?"

"Yes."

"Where are you coming from?"

"Deep Space 9, a Bajoran space station."

"What species are you?"

"A joined Trill."

The president looks interested again, and looks to a screen out of view again. A few seconds pass by.

"Are you the trill symbiote known as (MC)?"

"Yes. I was Hosor (MC) the last time I visited Songe." you explain. The president nods.

"I see. Then, could I ask you a rather personal question, to make sure?"

You bite your tongue, having a feeling about what he's about to ask. "…Sure."

"I appreciate it. Now, are you the progenitor of the Kal-family?"

You lean your head against your hand, taking a deep breath. "Yes… I am the progenitor of the Kal-family."

Julian and Jadzia exchange eye contact, wondering what's happening. They'll be sure to ask before you take the antidote.

"…That's all, dear ancestor." The president says, just before cutting communication. You groan, hiding your face on the back of Jadzia's seat.

"I should've remembered that one." you mutter, to the absolute laughter of Jadzia and Julian.

"Ancestor! You're his ancestor!" Jadzia gaggles, to your annoyance. You lift your head up just to glare at her.

"Like Dax doesn't have any descendants somewhere in the universe."

"Yeah, but I didn't expect it from you! I can't wait to tell Pixie about this!"

"You absolutely will not!" you screech, getting into a bit of a struggle with Jadzia who's still laughing. Julian takes a step back, not wanting to get caught in whatever you're doing.

There's that name again. Now at least Julian knows that it's a person, someone you seem to care about. Or at least their opinion.

Only half an hour later president Fulkaid gets in touch again, beaming a few bottles of the antidote aboard. You take a bottle of it for study, but the other two you and Julian take.

"Ugh." Julian gags, the taste the antithesis to what caused this whole mess. You silently agree, coughing. You and Julian look to each other, looking over each other for any oddness.

"Lie to me about something." You say to Julian.

"Umm, I'm not a doctor." Julian answers, sighing in relief afterwards. The feeling of being able to lie again is strangely dizzying. Though it might just be from not getting to talk as much for the past day.

"Well, it seems like this adventure is over." You say, nodding to both Julian and Jadzia. Jadzia nods back, while Julian's too relieved to acknowledge it.

"I'll… I think I'll go take a nap. This has been surprisingly exhausting." Julian says, heading to the back of the runabout.

"Good idea, have a good nights rest, good doctor." you say to him.

"Thank you, professor." he says back, just before the doors close.

"Well, this has just been something." Jadzia says, sitting down to get ready to pilot you back home. You sit down yourself with a deep sigh.

"I hate to say it, but yes. This has been something." you situate yourself into the chair better, feeling tired yourself. Jadzia smiles at you, feeling some sympathy for you.

"I heard Julian told you he found you attractive." Jadzia says. You open your eyes, looking unimpressed. "Any mutuality to that?"

"Yes, Julian is very attractive." You say, before you pause. You and Jadzia look to each other, both thinking the same thing. You glare at her, before settling down again. "No mention of this to anyone."

"If you say so." Jadzia smirks, setting a course back to DS9. She can't wait to see where the two of you are going.

#The Little Things #Julian Bashir x reader #Star Trek #gender-neutral reader

13 notes · View notes

wornoutmouse · 3 years

Note

I don’t know how to ask you this bestie 😩… But if you write incest do you mind doing one where all might’s daughter has a crush on Endeavor? And they both smash her… Feel free to make it stepcest if that’s more comfortable 🥲

DON’T BESTIE ME YOU FREAK!!!!-

Anyways, congrats on being my FIRST controversial ask. That being said, it took me a while to figure out whether or not I would write this one 🤔. Of course, this will be one of the ones I won’t be able to post on Wattpad lmao, but I’ll give it a go!

If you didn’t already read the request, I will give you the necessary warnings again.

tw: incest….. never thought this day would come, dp

Author's annual moral PSA: I would hope I wouldn't have to tell yall I don't condone this irl. This is both illegal in many states, and in all ways an abuse of power and trust. Not to mention no one should look at their family members in this way and if it has happened to you don't be ashamed of it as it is not your fault but seek help because it is dangerous in the long run. This is for pure fantasy purposes

You are not underage in this fic. I never do underaged work.

There is way too much plot in this

Your cheeks were stretched wide enough to rival your fathers’ as you ran home. Your feet bounce and your pull at your braids nervously as you look out the window of the train, the excitement you felt made you restless to get home. Your neighbors watched you as you ran by, dents caused by your shoes hitting the pavement as your quirk flowed through your pumping blood. “Dad!”

You slam your front door open and scramble through the labyrinth of your rich home. Tossing open your father’s office door unaware of how your outburst startles All Might. “Y-Yes what is it?” Papers flutter all around as you carelessly glide through Toshinori’s neatly stacked papers. You slam the slightly crumpled papers onto his desk, ignoring how the sheer strength of your hand nearly causes his cold cup of coffee to fall. “Remember how 3rd years get the chance to have the first pick in finding the company they’ll sidekick for?!”

All Might watches you with fondness in his eyes as he cleans his glasses off. He was now far in his years, a healthy 82. His hair was now less of a golden yellow and more of beige as it silvered slowly. He was still his normal towering height, retained much of his muscles, and could periodically assume his big form now that he finally had the time to rest and heal properly. “You mean the program that you talked about every day because it was free.”

You roll your eyes, “Free for me, not for you. Anyways look, look, look!” You hold the paper in his face and he takes it from you, “I see you were accepted into your first choice at-” You snatch the paper from him and hop around excitedly, “-At Endevā Jimusho And that’s not even the best part!” All Might's contempt face drops, “All sidekicks get to stay in a guest house in close quarters with Endeavor himself!!"

Joy no longer existed in Toshinori's emotional library. "Absolutely not." Your face falls and your rant halts completely. "What?" Yagi puts his glasses on and shuffles through his papers stiffly, "I do not agree on Endeavors training methods." You raise an eyebrow, "Is this coming from the man that punched Pro-Hero Dynamite and Deku into buildings during an emergency villain drill? In front of everyone?"

Yagi hides his face behind a stapled packet, "I was giving them a taste of reality, a villain does not care for a hero's well-being." You sit down on his desk, legs crossed before curling your finger over his paper, your eyes miss how AllMight briefly glances down, “Yes, but isn’t it a job as a hero to protect people, even the students they train?” Yagi craned his neck until it makes a satisfying crack, a smirk adorning his lips. “I suppose you are right.”

He thinks for a moment before silently shuffling his papers before returning his gaze to your hopeful face, “Why should I assist you with your obvious little crush on my coworker?” You clearly stiffen “Well if it will make you happy-” You don’t allow him to finish before your arms around his shoulders squeezing his neck with most of your strength.

AllMight watches you leave his room slightly disheartened, reaching into his desk drawer he pulls out his phone and dials. “What do you want?” AllMight leans back in his chair pulling at his pants to loosen the tension in his groin, “A proposition.”

The next day Yagi is driving you to your new home for the next 6 months. Your eyes glaze over with futuristic thoughts on how your stay would be. “Everything is so shiny!” Yagi shrugs as he pulls into the parking lot. Enji was always minimalistic when it came to modern designs.” Your head snaps to Toshinori’s side of the car, “His name is Enji!?” Your question is laughed off as Toshinori shuts the car off.

Although your amazement is captured solely by the prospect of working with a pro-hero, the fact that your father is a pro-hero does not go unnoticed by the people around you. “Is that AllMight!” “Should I ask for his picture?!” Even with Yagi’s shadow enveloping your body your attention hones in on the automatic glass doors in front of you.

Inside there is a crowd of students experiencing orientation and getting assigned their respective dorm and possible roommate. You take your first steps in their direction before your arm is pulled and Yagi dawns a playful grin as he presses his finger to his lips. You follow him, eyebrows furrowed “You aren’t trying to change my mind are you?” You don’t get an answer as you are dragged along.

Stairs after stair you follow your father until you come to the very top, legs throbbing but interest peaked. Yagi opens two double doors as easily as breathing and your eyes go wide as the broad shoulders of a familiar hero come into view. “You’re finally here, took you long enough.” Your heart beats in your chest, auburn hair, broad shoulders, and a stoic face that you’d only seen on television, now present in front of you. Yagi shuts the door causing you to jump, “Oh um hi!” A large hand touches your shoulder making you jump” Calm down Y/n!” A cheerful exclamation rings out from above you as Yagi transforms into his larger form.

Heavy footsteps make the room shake wherever the two men walk around the room, “I heard you wanted to meet with me.” Your demeanor goes from uneasy to panicked giggling, “O-Oh really, who told you that!’ AllMight chuckles before patting your head, why don’t you ask him all the silly questions you want, I have to use the restroom.

Endeavor leans against his desk, arms crossed allowing his muscles to bulge through his white button-up shirt. “Yagi tells me a lot of good things about you.” Endeavor stands straighter, a ballpoint pen in hand before he gestures for you to take a seat. You settle in the seat glancing towards the door before looking up at Endeavor who settles on his desk. “What’s the matter, you seem nervous?” The deepness of his tone sends a shiver down your spine. Shifting your legs closer together you clear your throat, “I’m just not used to meeting my childhood hero in person.” Endeavor laughs in a way that sounds more like a bellow, “When you say it like that I feel old!”

Your face hadn’t stopped burning since you entered the room but the joke forced a chuckle through your lips allowing you to relax just a little bit. Calculating eyes narrow, making you feel even smaller than you already did in the hero’s presence. “Now, come on. I’m sure you have something you’d always wanted to do if you met your hero.” Endeavor’s happy-go-lucky attitude catches you off guard as it juxtaposes the hardened persona he had cultivated over the years. “Well, I suppose a picture would be a start if you don’t mind?”

Seconds later you somehow find yourself in Endeavor's lap as he holds the camera up for a picture. His body is unpainted hot but you assume that was simply just a side effect of his quirk. “Um, are you sure you’re okay with this?” Endeavor hums in acceptance. A heavy arm loops around your waist pulling you closer, close enough to become aware of a problem pressed gently against your ass. “Oh!” Endeavor’s fingers slipped pressing the capture button, “What’s wrong did I do it wrong?” You shake your head becoming embarrassed for the both of you, “Nothing!” Enji’s voice lowers into a mumble that reverberated against the back of your neck, “Good.”

Enji straightens his arm once more to retake the picture and you awkwardly smile into the camera, grin becoming strained when he had yet to snap the photo. You shuffle the slightest bit to get a more comfortable position and a guttural groan is released from Enji’s lips. "Are you alright, Endeavor?" Your question is ignored and your phone is put down on the table. Large hands contrasting unbridled power is your stomach delicately as though you were made of porcelain. "Are you sure there is nothing else you'd like to do with your hero?"

Endeavors face nudges away your braids allowing him to press his heated mouth against your skin. "Nothing that would help you get to know them better?" You don't get to respond, your body is hoisted around to face Endeavor. Why nervousness clearly painting itself on your features before being overcome with confused pleasure as Endeavor pressed his lips against your own.

You moan against his lips, hips grinding against each other, the thought of where you are slipped past your mind and to your pussy. Endeavors hands down your body, pinching and pulling before sighing with his calloused fingernails. You couldn't believe this was happening, you feel your pants being pulled off. Just yesterday you believed that you would only be able to meet your hero in passing. Your bra is on the floor and your pussy weeps against his slacks.

The motions are fast-paced and you feel his thumb pressing against your clit. “Yes!” Endeavor kisses your lips, his stubble scratching your cheeks slightly as his tongue explores your mouth. Confidence floods your body as you hop off of Endeavor's lap and quickly undo the buttons of his slacks, he watches you out of breath in the best way.

Thick in your hands, the veins twitch to the tune of his blood. The clear stickiness of pre-cum coats the underside and you use it to stroke his length. "Please fuck me Endeavor!" You look up at him, face contorted with desperate thoughts as you angle your body towards his cock, the tip of it rubbing against your folds. You were wet, so wet making the fuchsia tip of his cock feel more engorged.

"Don't regret this. "You’re pulled back into his lap with ease, pussy trembling from the display of strength. With Endeavor holding your weight and your hand positioning his length below you, the slide down was easy as it could be. Your legs wrap around his waist as you adjust to him. “We have to be quick.” Endeavor rolls your hips when your breathing becomes even again, “We have all the time in the world.” You smirk trailing your finger up Enji’s chest, “What, you have a thing for getting caught?”

Your cheeks are spread apart by Endeavor’s fingers as he hooks one into the small slit left remaining in your pussy. “Something like that.” From behind you the sound of the door shutting makes your neck quickly craned around to look back. Standing with his arms behind his back and an unreadable expression stood Yagi, “Am I missing the party?” Ashamed excuses leave your mouth, tearful and panicked you squeal when Endeavor raises your hips before sliding you down his cock. “No, you are just in time.”

Yagi slowly removes the suit he wore, shrugging off his suit jacket as the sound of your muffled whimpers filter through his ears. You hide your face, curling into Endeavor’s form but a hand stops you, gripping your face, “Don’t be shy, it was his idea after all.” AllMight chuckled, “Yeah, it took a lot of convincing on my part.”Long fingers wrapped around the base of your skull where your braids connect before yanking your head back.

Toshinori looked down at you, face stoic and mockingly disappointed, "I thought it would take a lot more convincing but look at you. " Yagi dragged the back of his hand around your jaw and down your chest ripping the fabric with ease. Your tits bounced on every thrust that Endeavor continued to make, wordless moans and drool leaving your moan as your pussy clenched around the cock inside you.

"Such a little whore for him aren't you?" You shake your head in protest before your eyes widen as chapped but soft lips are placed over yours. He was kissing you, your brain short circuits as his tongue forces its way past your lips. It's wrong, you know that. Hell, this whole situation is wrong. You should be downstairs with the others doing orientation, not upstairs riding the cock of a pro-hero and french kissing the other. You knew it was wrong, but why did it feel so good?

Endeavor groans at how sloppy you were becoming. The sound of your pussy squelching as cream gathered around Endeavor's cock before being pushed back inside of you. "So both of you are twisted in the head." A large thumb presses down on your clit making your pussy spasm as you cum from the heightened stimulation. Endeavor keeps thrusting, his libido unmatched and energy pent up.

Yagi reaches in between the two of you pressing his palm against your pussy as his fingertips graze Enji’s dick on every upstroke. “Are you getting wetter sweetheart? He feels so good doesn't he?" Your mouth is agape and your weak hands Endeavor's shoulder is the only thing keeping you upright when your eyes roll back. "Y-Yes daddy!" Yagi wheezes before he's fiddling with his suit pants and pulling you back by your hair.

It was a strange display of balance on your end. Endeavor’s arms hold your legs tightly in order to keep you on his lap and on his cock meanwhile you are as your father slaps his hardened cock against your cheek, splashing his precum onto your chin. "I got you this far dear, why don't you return the favor?"

Whether it was diluted senses or your subconscious coming forward, you open your mouth for him, moaning as he invades every crevice of your jaw. Your throat constricts and you retch around the warm heat. Yagi is unapologetic and downright brutal as he pulls back before bringing his hips forward again.

The two men's moans empty into the office room and your garbled cooking is ignored as they both have their fill, leaving you to wonder if this really was for you. Numbness invaded your senses as you come again on Endeavor's cock with him not that far behind as he blows his load into your pussy. "It's been a while I will admit." Endeavor slaps your pussy once, then twice just to feel you squeeze down on him every time your hips jerked.

Tears and drool running down your face the faster your father fucks your throat and you knew you'd be sore the next day. "My turn." All Might pulls out and walks away not even showing you a glance as you choke from the lack of oxygen. Enji helps you sit up and wipes your face before Toshinori is pulling you away from Endeavor showing no care that his cock was still in you. He sits down and pulls you onto his own lap ignoring your dazed look as your brain struggles with the various changes of attitude.

"You gotta thank daddy for helping you meet your hero, don't you think?” His hand cups your round cheeks before the other slams down on the other one. Overestimated tears tremble down your brown skin as you hiccup, "Yes daddy." You rock against his cock, both your saliva and his own precum staining your stomach and public hair.

He fills you, even better than Endeavor did, and begins his onslaught of thrusts. You scream, the sound no doubt traveling outside the room, "Daddy please fuck me!!!" The speed at which you were moving was one that could only be done by a hero and it was more pain than pleasure. The constant pounding of your cervix makes your teeth clench together each time his mushroom head punches it.

"Yes, give daddy this sloppy pussy, squeeze down for me-oh fuck!" Lewd words you never even believed Yagi was capable of saying leave his lips. Your shoulder is bit by the redheaded man behind you as he cups your breasts together, tugging on your nipple before rubbing the nubbed patterns on your areolas. "I can't take it any more daddy please!" Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he causes your pussy to queen and cream, balls slapping the underside of your ass, sticky with Endeavor’s cum.

"This is what you raised Yagi? A little whore?" Yagi chuckles, "I'm just as surprised as you are Enji, say why don't you join? You aren't one and done are you?" Endeavor scoffs, you wish that upon me don't you?"

Your mind, altered with lust, does not understand the hidden meaning behind the word "join" but you soon realize it when fat fingers are pushing their way in the same hole Toshinori occupied. "E-Endeavor?" You're shushed as his fingers pump inside you with Yagi’s cock, curling and prodding your walls at every turn. You feel fuller than you ever thought you could and the pressure only continued.

"Look at my pretty little girl taking her daddy's cock, so fucking tight for me. Can you do this for Endeavor too? Fit both our fat cocks in your hero guzzling hole?" You nod at the degradation and feel the warmth from Endeavor envelope your back. His tip massages the stretched opening as Yagi stops thrusting for a moment.

There is silence, and then there is pain. You hardly feel the initial penetration of Enji’s cock, but you do feel it when Yagi tries to move again. You can hardly breathe between the sandwich the 3 of you created and your comfort is practically ignored as they both begin to move at opposite tempos. “O-oh god!” With your eyes screwed shut and mouth agape the two men grunt against your ears.

Your g-spot and cervix are both pushed against as their thrusts become more impersonal. Endeavor grabs your arms from around Yagi’s neck before pulling them behind your back. Your legs tremble uselessly around Toshinori’s thighs. His breath huffing the more he exerted himself steam easily slipping from his lips the faster he went. “I’m gonna cum!” Endeavor grunts, pistoning out of you even faster than he was before. A hand rests on his shoulder and he’s shoved back making you whimper from the partial emptiness. “Not inside bastard.”

Yagi becomes his gental self again as his still hard cock slips from your entrance. He places you on the ground giving you time to prop yourself up before grabiing his dick and stroking it infront of your face. You are to fucked out to do anything but present yourself as a pretty little canvas as his cum paints your face. You lick the small drops painting your chin before flashing a coy smile, “Thank you Daddy!”

#tw: inc*st #endeavor smut #all might smut #endeavor x all might x reader #mha smut #problimatic works #mha x black reader

658 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

Courting

Title: Courting

Square Filled for @spnabobingo (Round 6): Opposites attract

Ship: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester

Rating: Teen

Summary: When a tall and handsome alpha moves to town, you do something no one would expect from an omega.

Warnings: angst, pining, courting, shy reader, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, sick reader, cuddling & snuggling, fluff

Word Count: 2,1 k

A/N: I found a cute headcanon about an omega courting for her chosen alpha on @omegaversethings and turned it into a fanfiction. Thank you again. <3

Divider by @firefly-graphics

You always were a ‘classic’ omega. Meek, silent and shy. You never dared to talk to a foreign alpha let alone introduce yourself to one.

But here you are, offering the new alpha in your neighborhood a homemade cherry pie. You hope Dean, that’s the name of the alpha giving you sleepless nights, will like it.

“Hi, uh-erm,” you stammer, eyes glued to the ground. “I know how it feels to be new in town and the neighborhood. I made a cherry pie. If you don’t like it, it’s okay.” Before the alpha can say anything you push the container with the pie in his hands to run off.

“What?” puzzled Dean watches you run toward your house. His eyes dart from the pie in his hand back to you struggling to unlock your door. “She just brought me pie…awesome.”

The alpha strolls back inside his house, grinning as you baked him his favorite pie. “Love me some pie.”

Over the next week, you spied on your neighbor. You tried to talk to him again, to give him more gifts but you’re not the only unmated omega in your neighborhood.

Last week Lisa offered her help with decorating his house.

Three days ago, Cassie parade along the street, wearing a skirt leaving little to nothing to your imagination, and right now, Bela tries to hit on Dean, purring for him.

You hate omegas like them as they always get the alphas you like. Being a shy omega, plain and meek, means a disadvantage when it comes to courting for an alpha.

“Not again, Bela-“ you growl low in your throat, rummaging in a paper bag. You bought random things for your chosen alpha to impress and court for him. “This one is mine…”

“Hi,” you whimper catching the tall alpha’s scent. You can feel his intense gaze on you and the heat creeps into your cheeks. “I-I,” for a second you look up at the alpha, give him a soft smile before you place a pair of socks in his hands.

“Hi,” he says but you are halfway on your way toward your house, whimpering as you can still smell his scent linger on your clothes.

“What?” Dean stands outside of his home, looks at the socks in his hands, puzzled.

“Do you want to finish the kitchen now or not?” Sam asks, poking his head out of the door. “Dean? Is something wrong?”

“Last week she brought me a cherry pie and ran off, today it’s socks, with pie on them,” Dean huffs. “What’s going on?”

Sam starts laughing, he even holds his stomach at his brother’s puzzled expression.

“Dean,” Sam rolls his eyes at his brother’s question. “Did you really not realize you are being courted?”

“I get the pie, but why socks, Sammy? And since when do omegas court for an alpha,” Dean sniffs at the socks, growling low in his throat when he catches your scent.

“Some omegas do court for an alpha. I just never thought Y/N would do so. She seemed to be shy and meek,” Sam smirks when Dean presses the socks to his chest. “Maybe you should talk to her?”

“Why? I got pie and socks,” Dean grins. “I will just wait for her to come back. Maybe she makes me food too.”

Watching Lisa talk to the alpha again you growl low in your throat. You waited patiently for Dean to come home and now that woman is chatting him up again.

“He’s mine,” you mutter. “Get your hands off my alpha. Can you just not be all over my alpha, all of you.” your hands ball into fists when Lisa giggles and her hands grip one of the tall alpha’s biceps.

“Hi,” you shuffle from one foot to the other, offering the container with food to the tall alpha. You still don’t meet his eyes, not even when he clears his throat.

“You know, you could just talk to me, Y/N,” chewing on your lower lip you lift your head to glance at the tall alpha. You don’t know why he knows your name, but your heart began to race when he said it. “Hi, I’m Dean and I liked your pie. What did you bring me today?”

“Uh-steak and green beans. Potatoes and sauce. I-I wanted to bring you pie too, but I can only carry one container,” nervously babbling you hand Dean the food, ready to run off again.

“Why don’t we share the food?” he offers, smiling softly. “You gave me all those nice things and I would like to-“ you dash toward your house, unbeknownst Dean just wanted to invite you.

Your heart races and your head starts to spin when you slam the door shut to sink to your knees.

“He-he talked to me,” you whine, sniffing at your hand. Dean brushed his fingers over your skin, and you can still scent him.

Another day passes when you sneak toward Dean’s house. Right, when you try to knock he opens the door, offering a soft smile again.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says, and you whimper when he says your name. “The food was delicious but I would’ve liked to share it with you. Why don’t you come inside?”

“I-I got a pie for you,” looking at the container with another pie and another pair of socks on top you bite your lower lip. “I hope you’ll like it.”

You try to hand it to Dean to run away once again but he steps outside, cups your face with two fingers to force you to look up at him. “Omega, come inside,” he says, and your heart does somersaults. “I want to share the pie with you. And,” he dips his head to catch your scent, “I cooked. Thought I should invite you over.”

“Y-you cooked,” you squeak when Dean moves his hand to your neck to brush your scenting gland. “I-I don’t know if I should-“

“Come inside, omega,” he says, voice deeper now, more commanding. You immediately drop your gaze and nod silently, knowing he just used his alpha voice. “I want to get to know you better, sweetheart.”

“O-kay…”

After you had dinner with Dean, you decided to think about better gifts. You assume he tried to be friendly and pay you back for your food, but you want him to know you courted for him.

“What can I bring him next?” pinching the bridge of your nose you sigh deeply. “Maybe new socks – no, I already did twice. Underwear – too obvious. Oh, maybe a hairbrush.”

A knock brings you out of your thoughts. You slowly get up, wondering who knocks at your door on a Sunday evening.

Sighing deeply, you make your way to the door, opening it to find Dean on your doorstep.

“Hi,” you gasp when Dean offers you a book and a chocolate box. “I wanted to come over and thank you for the delicious pie and food, and I’m wearing your socks.” He points at his feet.

“A-are you-“ biting your tongue you look at the gifts in Dean’s hands. “Are you courting for me, alpha?”

“Thought you’ll never ask,” Dean grins, stepping closer to catch your scent. “Can we go out? I’d like to invite you for dinner, Y/N.”

“You are courting for me,” your heart flutters when Dean hands you the gifts. “Yes, uh-please. I’d like to go out with you, Dean.”

“How about Saturday?” he asks, demanding an answer. The alpha makes his interest known when he looks at your mating gland. “Omega?”

“Yes, I got time,” you nod eagerly, gifts pressed tightly to your chest now.

“Awesome. I’ll pick you up at six,” he says, giving you a once over before he nods to himself. “I’ll be seeing you, Y/N.”

When he turns to leave you must stop your heart from racing. You watch him waltz toward his house, giving you a little show when he purposely stops at his mailbox to raise to his full height and rolls his shoulders.

“Damn,” you bite your lower lip, squealing when he turns around to give you a wink. “He’s so tall and handsome…and cocky. Oh-God-where-did-I-get-myself-into?” you babble, walking back inside your house.

“Omega, Y/N? Did you change your mind?” Dean mutters, knocking at your door. “It’s quarter past six.”

“Hi,” you cough, barely finding the strength to hold the door open. “’m sorry but I don’t feel good.” you whine, hating you must turn Dean down. “I got a terrible cold and I’m freezing and I’m hot all the time.”

“Jesus,” Dean immediately scoops you into his arms to carry you toward your couch. He looks you all over, presses one large palm to your forehead. “You’re burning up, sweetheart. I’m gonna help you out of your sweaty clothes. You’ll have a hot bath while I get you something, okay.”

“Uh-“ you sigh, eyes fluttering close, “you can’t see me naked, Sir…” you drift into sleep, mumbling something about pancakes when you suddenly feel like you are floating on air. “Wait!”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I will prepare the bath and you can undress. I’ll just go back to my house and get something for you. ‘K?”

Humming you rest your head against Dean’s shoulder, let him carry you upstairs to look for your bedroom.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“Second room to the left,” you whine, nuzzling your face in Dean’s shoulder. “I can’t scent you.”

“You’re sick, sweetheart. Lemme just get you comfortable, Y/N,” he ushers inside your bedroom, carefully places you onto the bed before he looks for your bathroom, cursing as you almost roll off the bed. “Careful, omega. Hmm…guess I must stick around…”

Dean came back when you finally made it out of your bathtub.

You barely had the time to walk out of your bathroom when he stormed into your bedroom, blankets, pillows, and a few of his clothes tugged under one arm while he balanced a bowl of chicken soup with his other hand.

“I changed the sheets and tried to get you my clothes, blankets, and anything fluffy I could find at my place. It’s not much, though,” you purr when Dean puts everything on your bed to create a safe nest smelling like him. “Lie on the bed and I’ll help you get comfortable. I brought you chicken soup.”

“Soup? You made me soup?”

“Uh-I asked my mom how to make it,” Dean shrugs, explaining his mother always made chicken soup for him when he was a boy. “Now let me help you, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to, Dean,” you sigh, snuggling into one of his soft plaids. “Smells like you, I like it.”

“Yeah, everything smells like me,” he purrs, watching you relax on the nest he made for you. “You’ll smell like me too.” Dean hides he feels his heart swell when you rub his scent into your skin.

The primal part, his alpha purrs in delight, loves that you are covered with his clothes and scent.

“I’m so tired…”

“You need to eat something first, sweetheart,” Dean insists. He helps you sit while you claw at one of his shirts. You press the fabric to your nose, inhale his scent deeply, finally purring when he sits next to you to feed you with the soup.

“I wanna sleep, Dean,” you protest but Dean pushes the spoon carefully past your lips, smirking when you swallow the warm soup.

“Good, isn’t it?”

“Good,” you cough. “And tasty…”

“I got my stuff for the next few days. Food. Clothes. Toiletries and my phone and laptop. I can work from home and take care of you,” Dean explains, while he covers you with a warm blanket.

You are wearing one of his plaids, and he can’t help the smile creep onto his face when you snatch another from the nest to cradle it in your arms.

“I called in sick,” you whisper, closing your eyes.

“Good,” Dean crawls under the covers, not missing your breath hitches in your throat when he lies behind you to bring you in his arms. “I’m gonna take care of my omega.”

“Your omega?”

“Mine,” he kisses your mating gland, purring when you tilt your head to grant him more access. “When you are healthy again, I’m gonna take you out, or make you dinner, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t think I got a chance,” you mumble. “I’m shy and meek, you are so—”

“I like you are shy and sweet,” he noses his way along your neck, breathing you in. “You smell so good, like – home.”

“Home,” you whisper happily. “You smell like safety and adventure at the same time. Musky and like a warm apple pie.”

“Did I tell you I loved your pie?” Dean licks his lips, “I love me some pie. My omega bakes the best pies in the world.”

“Your omega,” you hum, liking the sound of it…

Tags in reblog.

#Courting #spnabobingo #dean winchester #alpha!dean #alpha!dean winchester #opposite attracts #dean winchester x you #dean winchester SPN #fluff #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics

468 notes · View notes

titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

The Warrior Experience; ft. the Marley Warriors

Rating: Explicit; mdni

Pairing: Zeke, Reiner, Porco, Pieck x fem!reader

Word Count: ~5.3K

Warnings: mildly dubious consent (reader isn’t exactly there of her own free will but is still dtf), multiple partners, voyeurism, virgin Colt, rough blowjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mentions of unpleasant contraceptives, lots of cum, clear bias toward Reiner

A/N: I don’t know what happened today. I just got possessed by the horny ghost. Enjoy~

It’s always Magath who retrieves you, the sour-faced General swinging open the door to your small room without any type of knock or warning.

On most nights, he takes a look at you, frowns, then grunts the name of whoever is actually calling for you—requesting your “presence”. This evening, however, he remains silent, leaving it a mystery that keeps you curious as you make yourself slightly more presentable, pulling on a skirt, running a comb through your hair, just enough to look a little more human.

You walk in silence down the hallways, your hands clasped behind your back as the older man struts in his usual militaristic fashion. As you near the Warrior quarters, you do your best to prepare yourself, but without an idea of who you’re meeting, it’s difficult.

Because they’re all so different. Galliard, for instance, usually starts the nights off aggressively. He particularly likes slamming you into various surfaces, pinning you down with a bruising grip, but his demeanor changes as soon as he’s inside you. The once careless young man turns to jelly underneath you, gasping and groaning as his adrenaline wanes and he unravels.

Always tired and slightly unstable, Reiner is soft. Even when his thrusts are deep and harsh, his hands remain gentle, calluses feather light as they dance up and down your ribs, over your breasts. His stamina varies. Sometimes, when he’s a little more out of his head, a little more haunted, he ruts into you for what feels like an eternity. Most of those instances, he doesn’t even come. You’re just there for a distraction— “A nice one,” he tells you quietly, gratefully, but you still know where you stand with him.

There are nights when he’s desperate for release, however, taking you with quick, sloppy thrusts, spilling inside you within minutes then rubbing your clit until you squeeze him back to full hardness so that he can do it all over again.

Zeke is the hardest to predict, on far ends of one, sadistic spectrum: he either wants you to do all the work while he smirks up at you with a cigarette between his lips, occasionally blowing smoke into your face, or he wants to dominate you entirely. When he falls into the latter category, you’re in his bed for hours, sniffling or sobbing, biting your lip to keep yourself from begging him to stop—one, because he won’t listen, but also because it isn’t your place.

The Warriors are honorary Marleyans which means they’re much more important and valuable than you are. Your opinion never matters, least of all in the bedroom.

You’re more or less a toy for them to use, an Eldian plucked from Liberio and brought to the military base with no real say in it. The Warriors are all young and virile, after all. They have needs like anyone else, but despite their honorary status, they’re forbidden from sleeping with Marleyan women.

So, you live here, at their beck and call with one purpose and one purpose only.

To your surprise, Magath stops before you can get to the sleeping quarters you are very familiar with at this point. You stand outside of a closed door, raise an eyebrow at the General but don’t dare question him.

“They’re in there,” he grumbles, nodding to the door before turning around and walking away.

They…

Raising a suddenly very heavy hand, you knock lightly then shift awkwardly until the door opens and reveals Galliard. His perpetual scowl is in place, but he nods his head in acknowledgment then moves to the side to let you in.

Galliard isn’t the only one in the room—what looks like some kind of conference area with a sizable wooden table surrounded by chairs, a window on the far end displaying the night sky and twinkling stars. Nearly all of those chairs are full, one scooted back from the table that you can easily assume belongs to the redhead standing behind you.

Zeke is lounging comfortably, feet kicked up on the table as he puffs on a cigarette. Reiner is sitting in his chair backwards, slumped forward to rest his head on the wooden backing, though he lifts it to look at you with bloodshot eyes. Pieck, who you do not see often at all, is slouched with her arms pillowing her face, offering you a lazy smile that’s laced with something you cannot place.

There’s one more person in the room, the vaguely familiar face of Colt Grice, Warrior Candidate slated to inherit the Beast Titan in a few years. You’ve seen him around the base, usually trailing closely behind Zeke, but haven’t gotten the chance to speak with him yet.

You remain standing even as Galliard takes his seat again, nibbling on your bottom lip, waiting expectantly—nervously. The last time you were in a room with all of them at once was when you’d first been brought here, and that had just been for informal introductions. There had also been another Eldian with you at the time, a male to keep Pieck satisfied, but he’s… No longer with you.

In true leader fashion, Zeke is the first to speak after taking a long drag from his cigarette, tilting his head back to blow it into the air and creating a haze over himself.

“Glad you could join us tonight, sweetheart,” he shows a short, unconvincing smile, and that paired with the condescending pet name leads you to believe he’s in one of his more controlling moods.

“I’m just glad to be able to service the Wa—”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to do all that,” he waves you off. “I’ll cut to the chase.”

“Let her sit down first, Zeke, geeze,” Pieck murmurs before holding a small hand out for you, beckoning you to take the seat next to hers.

Never one to argue or disobey, you shuffle over to it and lower yourself, but you can’t relax, not with so many pairs of eyes on you.

Galliard is twitchy, bouncing his leg up and down, pushing his hair back too often. Reiner, unmoving, just blinks slowly at you, expression flat. Grabbing your hand, Pieck offers a nod that isn’t the slightest bit reassuring while Zeke pins you with an icy gaze.

“Colt here is gonna be a big boy Warrior pretty soon,” he says, motioning to the boyish blond in the corner who suddenly seems more interested in the floor than anything. “And, he hasn’t been given the chance to have the experiences he deserves. You follow?”

You nod, easily putting the pieces together. They want you to sleep with him, some sort of sexual initiation.

“As I’m sure you’ve picked up, Titan holders don’t have the longest lifespans, so I figure he needs to enjoy what life he has left.”

Another nod, then you start to stand only to be stopped by Galliard who asks, “What’re you doing? Sit back down.”

“Oh,” you plant yourself back in the chair, eyes growing as your stomach sinks. “I thought you wanted me to show Colt—”

Zeke laughs around his cigarette, adding even more smoke to the air around you, and shakes his head. “No, you misunderstand. You will be showing Colt a thing or two tonight, but in here where we can all watch and… Lend a helping hand if need be.”

Mouth going dry, you can’t stop yourself from frowning. Sleep with Colt… In front of all of them? You don’t fancy yourself much of a performer, doubt you’ll be able to put on any kind of good show under so much pressure.

But, you can’t protest. You can’t go against their wishes or complain. You should consider yourself lucky, being able to service the Warriors. It means you’re a half-step above the other Eldians—a devil but a halfway useful one.

“Um. Okay,” you consent.

Zeke claps his hands together. “Excellent,” then tells you. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Go rinse off, do whatever you need to do to get ready, then meet us back here.”

You don’t dawdle, doing exactly what you’re told. The restroom is obviously for multiple people, a few stalls with cheap curtains to block you from view. You make quick work of bathing so that you’ll have time to prepare yourself, starting the process of stretching yourself while under the spray. With no idea how large Colt might be, and taking into account that he might be completely clueless about female anatomy, you make sure to work three fingers into your cunt, moving them as best you can until you’re a little loosened up and wet.

When you return to the conference room, you’re just in a towel, folded clothes under your arm and placed in an empty chair.

“Easy access,” Galliard smirks. “Good call.” You squeak when he slaps your ass then sit on the edge of the table as you’re directed to.

Most of them have shed their boots and jackets, looking a little more casual now. It doesn’t put you at ease—if anything, it makes you think the others will get a little more involved than Zeke originally let on, and the thought alone is enough to overwhelm you.

It takes some prompting for Colt to muster the courage to approach you. The others scoot to the edges of the room, giving the two of you center stage. It's daunting, but you do your best to forget about them, to focus on the nervous blond in front of you.

Spreading your legs, you pull him by the shirt to stand between them then look up at him through your lashes and ask, "Am I allowed to kiss you?" You can never assume. Everyone has different rules.

When you're with Reiner, he has his mouth against yours more than he doesn't, Galliard will nip and suck against every part of you that isn't your mouth, and the closest Zeke gets to your mouth is prying it open to spit on your tongue.

Naturally, Colt looks to his War Chief for answers, but Zeke just shrugs. "Your choice, big guy. You're the one calling the shots."

Colt contemplates for a little while but eventually nods and swallows. "Uh, yeah. That's okay, I guess."

He seems to feel just as awkward as you do about this whole situation, would also probably prefer for it to happen in private, but you imagine he's doing everything in his power to show that he's worthy of inheriting Zeke's Titan. He's basically in the same boat as you.

Reaching up, you lace your fingers behind his neck and pull him to you, pressing your lips to his slowly, softly, trying not to spook him too much.

After gaining as much experience as you have over the last year or so, it's rare for you to feel shy when getting intimate. Three of the other people in that room have seen everything there is to see about you, your most private of body parts, your most visceral, primal reactions. You have nothing to hide any more.

Colt is stiff against you. His hands are still by his sides, lips firm but unmoving.

He has no idea what to do. It's almost disappointing, knowing you're about to spend the evening teaching this kid, fresh faced, twenty years old at most and completely clueless.

You're saved when a gruff voice makes you pull away: "Alright, this is hard to watch." Reiner sits up and rubs his eyes, then swings his leg over the chair to stand and walk over. "Grice, have you ever even seen anyone kiss before?"

Cheeks turning red, Colt moves out of the way, stuttering out "W-well yeah, but I never watch."

The taller man takes the vacant space between your legs, and you inhale sharply when he slides a large hand to the back of your head, tilting your face even further upward. Reiner kisses you in a way that makes your head spin. He has that desperate taste he always has, and even without opening your eyes, you can tell he's frowning. But his hand is cautious, careful not to tug your hair just like he's careful not to knock his teeth into yours when he parts your lips with his.

"There we go," Zeke laughs, clapping twice and cheering, "'Atta boy, Braun!"

Reiner's tongue dances with yours in a heated back and forth for a few seconds before he pulls back. He doesn't smile, but he does sigh in a thoughtful manner before turning to Colt and pointedly telling him, "That's how you kiss a woman."

Reiner softly scratches the back of your head in a fond gesture, then steps away and motions for Colt to try again.

He's slightly more confident this time around, starting off slowly at first but eventually pushing against you harder and harder until it's a little much, and you just barely push at his chest to get him to let up. He replaces pressure with tongue, probing and curious but not awful.

"Undo her towel, Grice. Get a move on," Galliard demands.

Colt reaches up with a shaky hand, breathing through his nose while keeping his lips attached to yours as he pulls at the loose knot just above your breasts. The material falls and pools around you on the table, and before he can be criticized again, you grab one of Colt's hands and place it on one of the perky mounds. You move your fingers over his, showing how you like to be massaged then guiding him to your nipple.

"Oh, this is very romantic," Zeke drawls, snapping his fingers to get someone's attention then addressing, "Pock," who grunts in response. "You're a tit man, right? Your turn to show him how it's done."

The sound of a chair scraping on the floor rings throughout the room, but instead of pushing Colt out of the way, Galliard stands on the other side of the table behind you, bends forward, then grabs you by the hair to pull you down. The breath is knocked out of you as your back hits the table, and you blink up at the redhead in surprise.

Upside down, your face is about level with his hips, maybe a foot away from his pelvis, but before you can dwell on it, Galliard's rough hands are on your tits, groping, massaging, then pinching your nipples so that you arch and moan.

"Know I probably shouldn't like it so much, but you sound so pretty, baby," he growls, flicking over the hardened buds then squeezing again.

"We're all devils here. You can like it as much as you want," Reiner gruffs.

"Justifying your own feelings?" Zeke snarks.

You aren't able to see or hear Reiner's response, too busy whining as Galliard starts to slap your tits over and over, making the flesh burn and sting.

Porco groans, "Mm, love that bounce," hitting them a few more times then stopping and allowing you to take a shuddering breath.

Your body is hot all over, especially your chest, and your pussy is starting to throb. After playing with yourself in the shower, the heated kiss you shared with Reiner, and now the abuse Galliard just showered on your tits, you're starting to get restless, ready to be filled with something.

"While I'm right here, m'gonna show you somethin' else, Grice."

Galliard grips your upper arms and slides you closer to him on the table, then undoes his pants and pulls his cock free. As soon as you feel the tap on your lips, you open up for him, relaxing just in time for him to shove his length over your tongue and into the tight sleeve of your throat.

And, pride actually wells up inside of you. That hardly ever happens.

There's no time to acclimate really, your only choice being to just lay and take it, so you do, choking and gagging around Galliard's cock as everyone else watches. Tears stream down the sides of your face, but you feel them get wiped away and open bleary eyes to find Pieck peering down at you, soft hands catching the drops as she coos, "You're doing so good, love."

You squirm on the table, start to rock your hips into nothing—no one—in desperate need of friction now.

"You want something stuffed in that pussy?" Zeke calls out.

The vibration of your responding whine makes Galliard curse and thrust into your throat until your forehead is pressed against his heavy balls. Strings of spit leak from the corners of your mouth. You try to slurp and suckle, but the steady pistoning of Galliard’s hips just keeps pushing more out.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Colt, you wanna go for it, or do you wanna watch first?” Zeke questions.

“Um, I—I’ll watch first, I think.”

“Good choice. See how it’s done before diving in.”

You’re barely aware of the conversation around you, mouth full of cock, gentle hands on your face. Pieck must not be fazed by being so close to her comrade’s privates because she just keeps stroking and praising you, like she thinks you might break or lose it.

There are fingers on your wet folds, spreading them apart, then the harsh sound of spitting before a glob of thick fluid lands in your pussy. Zeke smears his saliva over your clit, and you buck under his touch, moaning when two thick digits are pushed into your heat all at once. Your cunt spasms around the intrusion, getting used to it as he continues the job you’d started in the shower.

“I don’t always do this sort of thing just ‘cause I like the way she feels all tight and tense on my dick, but if you don’t want her to whine as much, I’d advise prepping her with your fingers or mouth.”

You squirm and writhe, the glide of his fingers getting easier with every thrust as your hole drools slick onto the table beneath you. Zeke’s palm grinds against your clit, pressure and friction where you want it most for half a second before it disappears—comes back, disappears—until you’re forcing yourself down on his hand.

He lets out one of his standoffish little chuckles as you slide up and down Galliard’s length and fuck yourself on Zeke’s fingers, but the delicious sensation disappears entirely when Zeke pulls out, probably to work himself out of his pants, then presses the blunt head of his cock against your clenching hole. He pushes the tip in only to pull it back out, tap it against the swollen bundle of nerves a few times, then finally pushes in all the way.

You’re a little too far up on the table now, and Zeke doesn’t bother warning you or Galliard as he tugs you back down to better situate you on his cock, causing the other man to slip out of your mouth.

“Fuck man, I was getting close!”

Without a care in the world, Zeke shrugs him off, tells him, “Come on her face or something then, I don’t give a fuck.”

Your voice comes out hoarse as you moan for all of them to hear, teary eyes cracking open to see Galliard step back and lean against the wall behind him. His fist is tight around his shaft, but he’s pumping himself slowly, like he’s suddenly pacing himself despite just having fucked your throat raw.

A rough pinch to your nipple brings your eyes to Zeke, blond hair hanging in his face, glasses slipping down his nose. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, but other than that, he’s basically fully clothed. He’s flushed from his neck down to his chest, jaw barely hanging open as his eyebrows raise. He’s certainly enjoying himself, and you can’t say you aren’t because the drag of his thick cock in your pussy is incredible.

Your head lolls to one side and you find Colt staring at you with wide eyes, watching the way his superior sheathes himself in you over and over. It makes you blush, so you turn to the other side, see Reiner posted up in the corner, about half hard in his pants as he watches your face.

Mouth dropping open, you shut your eyes, trying to will away the skin-prickling sensation of being watched. You raise your arms above your head, hands dangling off the other end of the table, and Pieck takes them, squeezing once before lightly running nimble fingers over your sensitive skin.

You’ve never been with her, not that you’d be opposed. She’s very pretty and seems kind enough. But you had guessed you weren’t exactly her type. Now, though, you second guess yourself since she seems more than content with touching you.

The painful squeezes of Zeke’s fingers are batted away, replaced by the ghost of stimulation on your sore nipples. Pieck rubs over one so lightly you hardly register it, but it still shoots right to your pussy, makes you clench around Zeke.

He’s holding you by the hips now, pulling you onto his cock, and it goes like this for a while. At some point, the wet sound of Galliard jacking off fades, but you doubt he’s come; he’s typically quite vocal when he climaxes.

Zeke never lets up, fucking deep and fast and right over the spot that makes you leak until he suddenly pulls out and shoots strings of hot cum onto your thighs and the table between them.

“You don’t… Inside?” Colt speaks up.

Rubbing his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, Zeke answers, “Never. That’s preference, though. I just don’t want any accidents to happen.”

You would remind him that you go to the medic after every encounter you have with the Warriors to get checked out, given an unpleasant medicine that leaves you sick for a few days, but it’s hard to think straight right now.

Before Colt can move toward you again or any more questions can be asked, Galliard is rounding the table, cock in hand once again, shouldering Zeke out of the way so that he can bury himself in your pussy. He’s a shorter length than the man who was in you just moments ago, but a little thicker. Veiny and curved upward, Galliard always feels good inside of you. Unfortunately for you, he’s basically been edging himself since you were pulled from him, so he doesn’t last long at all.

Unlike Zeke, Galliard has no qualms about coming inside of you. You feel his seed fill you, mixing with your own wet arousal and making you drip with it when he pulls out.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he grins before giving your pussy a slap, making you push more of his cum out.

You hear someone suck in a deep breath, and Colt slowly shuffles over to you. He stares at your throbbing cunt for a while, raising a timid hand to stroke over now messy folds, and you let out a mewl, a very soft, “Please…”

Pieck places a tender kiss at your hairline that makes your heart jump into your throat, such a kind gesture as she murmurs against you, “You’re doing so well for them.”

“Can I—” You blink up at her face, floating upside down over yours. “Can I do anything f-for you, Pieck?”

She shows another one of those smiles, the kind that’s hiding a little something, and she shakes her head, wavy, black hair flowing over her shoulders. “I’m just enjoying watching. You’re very pretty to look at.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond, so you just let her keep touching you, keep cooing and doting. You’ll never say no to affection like this.

Colt doesn’t have any trouble finding your entrance, which is a relief. He lines himself up and pushes in painfully slowly, panting the entire time and letting out one very satisfying, “O-oh, shit.”

“Feels good, doesn’t she?” Zeke hums.

Colt nods, arms beginning to shake on the table. He seems to be holding himself back, whether it’s from coming or fucking into you is a mystery, but eventually he bottoms out and stays still save for his trembling. It isn’t uncomfortable, but you do feel very full, his hips flush against yours, cockhead nestled right up against your cervix. If he was any longer, you would definitely be in pain.

“Grice, you can move, you know,” Galliard jabs, but Colt just shakes his head.

“One second. Lemme just…” He shifts his hips some, not thrusting as much as grinding into you, and you cry out when he presses against that far wall.

You can feel Galliard’s cum leaking down the curvature of your ass, pooling with whatever of Zeke’s is left on the table. You’re so wet, noisy when Colt finally does start slowly pulling out and pushing in. The squelches echo in the conference room and make you cringe, but Zeke seems to appreciate it as he hums, “Listen to that sloppy pussy.”

“Like music to my fuckin’ ears,” Galliard adds.

Colt has trouble keeping an even pace, his hips stuttering often, but the ridge of his cock strokes over the sensitive spot inside you—the one that makes you drool and babble—almost every time. Your muscles clench around him, changing the sensation for both of you, and when that rhythm becomes even more erratic, you know he’s close.

“Fuck, fuck, I—”

“Just add to the mess. We’ll clean up later,” Zeke reassures him.

Colt’s eyes find yours for the first time since he started fucking you, searching for something like permission, so you nod and show a lazy grin.

“It’s okay, you can come in me.”

That sends him over, a strangled gasp ripping from his throat as he milks himself in your cunt. You can feel the pressure of building liquid inside you, pushing on your insides, but it wanes when Colt pulls out.

You feel swollen and used at this point, but your core is still hot with the desire to come. There’s a chance you won’t, especially now that Colt has finished, but you can always get yourself off in the privacy of your quarters if need be.

The freshly fucked blond receives a couple slaps on the back, some patronizing comments from his War Chief, and you take the time to just breathe and melt into the table, enjoying the way Pieck is stroking your hair now, smiling at the other Warriors.

Your eyes are just about to close when you see Reiner making his way over. He stands between your legs for a while, just looking over the damage, the slight discoloration of your chest, your raw nipples, mouth swollen from Galliard’s cock, then finally your used pussy.

His fingertips brush over sensitive skin, making you shudder, and you nearly cry when he asks, “You ready to get yours?”

You nod, sucking in an unsteady breath. Reiner mouths the word, “Okay,” then unbuckles his pants and pushes them down to his thighs, and the tears really do start to gather in your eyes now because Reiner is big, and you're already getting sore from three other cocks you've taken.

He rubs his hands up your thighs, tells you, “Wrap your legs around my waist,” which you somehow manage even though they’re weak with numbness.

Reiner doesn’t push in just yet, though you can feel his warm cock rubbing between your engorged lips. Instead, he slides his arms under your back and lifts you, turning so that he’s sitting on the table and you’re in his lap, ankles still crossed at his lower back.

“Just go at your own pace.” His voice is quiet, his mouth hovering just over yours, and here, like this, you almost forget about the others.

You lift yourself just enough to line his tip up with your leaking entrance then lower yourself onto his cock inch by inch. His girth stretches you, always burns just a little, even when you’re well prepared.

Your spongy walls make room for him, sucking him in even as you whine at his size. He waits for you to get settled, for you to start rocking, and only then does Reiner start moving. His cheeks are pink, light brown eyes nearly taken over by blown pupils, but the shift of his hips is slow and deliberate, hitting just where you need him to.

He keeps one hand at your back to help you balance, but his other moves down to press on the puffy flesh at the apex of your cunt. It forces your clit to rub against the coarse hairs on his pelvis, and you throw your head back as you finally, finally get that friction you were craving.

Reiner lowers his face to your chest, warm tongue laving over one nipple in a soothing manner as it pebbles against the muscle. He moves to the other and does the same, suckles on it softly so that you dig your nails into his back.

You leak with every shallow thrust, various fluids getting pushed from your wet pussy, and the closer you get to your orgasm, the worse it gets. You squirt first, a juice thinner than your slick arousal dribbling from you and coating Reiner’s thighs.

“Fucking—” He cuts himself off by kissing you, obviously uncaring of the fact that you had someone else’s cock in your mouth maybe half an hour ago. He licks into you, holding your body tight against his as your muscles tense, thighs rigid around his waist. You climb and climb, gut hotter and hotter until you reach your peak and moan into his mouth.

Your hips start moving on their own accord, a little faster as you squeeze the thick cock inside of you until your body grows tired enough to stop. Reiner keeps the same, slow pace, rumbles, “Just keep squeezing me, and I’ll come soon.”

So, you do, clenching around him and trembling the more overstimulated you become because you’re so sensitive and so swollen and so full. Every part of you aches. Every shift of his cock makes you whimper, but when Reiner finally spills inside of you, holding you down on his spurting cock, you sigh and slump against him.

You breathe heavily, and so does Reiner, his chest, now damp with sweat, rising and falling against yours. His shirt chafes against your nipples, making you hiss, but you’re too exhausted to move.

“Is that what sex is always like with you two?” Galliard scoffs. “That was some soft shit. I’m a little disgusted.”

If you were a little more lucid, you’d consider calling him out and announcing to the room how wanton he gets alone in the bedroom, but your brain is functioning at minimal capacity right now.

“Oh, leave them alone, Pock,” Pieck chides, and you glance across the table at her with tired eyes to find another one of those smiles on her face. “Everyone deserves some softness, especially this little angel after the way you guys treated her.”

“Didn’t treat her any differently than I normally do,” Zeke says, voice slightly muffled as he speaks around a new cigarette.

“In that case, I offer my condolences,” Pieck tells you, pulling a little snort from you.

“S’fine,” you slur. “I’m just happy to service the Warriors.”

Galliard rolls his eyes. Pieck hums thoughtfully. Zeke smirks. Reiner lets his head fall to your shoulder.

And, Colt croaks out a honestly endearing, “Well, I, uh, appreciate the service,” which makes you and all of his superiors laugh.

It’s not an easy job, this one you've been given. You try to be grateful for the opportunity, but most days end with you struggling to find your own self worth.

Tonight is different, though. It’s rare that you feel genuinely appreciated, but right now, sitting in Reiner’s lap with Colt looking at you in both embarrassment and gratefulness, you feel that maybe you're worth something.

#aot x reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfic

654 notes · View notes

hyungieyoongi · 3 years

Text

See You

Pairing: Professor!Hobi x Professor!Reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers + fluff + angst + Hobi and Reader have some personality conflicts at work but should really just make out or something and stop acting like they dislike each other + this entire fic is inspired by Hobi’s look in that gum commercial I mean he screamed professor with that turtleneck and plaid blazer (thank you @moon-write for encouraging this vision)

Word Count: 3.2K+

---

“No, no, please tell me you’re joking,” you groaned, eyes scanning over the classroom assignment list posted on the faculty board in the hallway over again, hoping you were seeing things wrong. A third look at the paper confirmed that your fears had in fact come true – you and Hoseok were teaching next door to each other the entire fall semester.

Hoseok was the History of Dance Professor in your department. He was hired at the beginning of last year, three years into your career as one of the youngest faculty members in the Music & Arts program at your university. While he was bubbly and energetic, you were the more typical academic – down-to-earth, a little bit serious. He was beloved by his students for his positive personality and passion for teaching; you were well-regarded as being a natural talent who wanted to hone your students’ abilities.

It wasn’t that your students didn’t like your course. No, it was well-reviewed and relatively popular considering it was an elective. But once Hoseok arrived, you felt like you were competing with the star of the program. Every student, even the ones who didn’t like dance, were lining up for his course, pushing your class and others into smaller classrooms with dwindling numbers. He, of course, got the large lecture hall this year.

He was the pain in your side, constantly flashing his bright smile to get his way in the department, dazzling your colleagues. Students would often be buzzing in the hallways about how they didn’t have to take an exam in Professor Jung’s class like they did in Professor Y/L/N’s. They got to go to a local show instead and analyze the dance performance. Hoseok was creative and intelligent – that much you could agree with – but you rolled your eyes every time you saw another one of his students attempt to flirt with him.

Hoseok and you figured out you got on each other’s nerves pretty quickly. He would always play music too loud in his office while you were grading papers – he timed how long it took you to show up at his door to tell him to turn it down every afternoon. You would make it a point to have your students play samples of their pieces they’d written on the piano while he was in the middle of a lecture, leaving your classroom doors open so the notes of the instrument would float down the hallway to the lecture hall. You’d have a satisfied grin on your face when you heard the telltale noise of the lecture hall doors slamming shut.

The entire department knew about this little game the two of you would play with each other, not to mention the sarcastic comments from you and teasing jokes from him that were on repeat any time you were in the same room. The bickering was bound to get worse with the two of you in such close quarters all semester.

“Y/N!” you heard a loud voice call down the hallway. You hadn’t heard that voice in two and a half months thanks to your summer vacation. You gritted your teeth, turning with a tight-lipped smile toward your least-favorite coworker.

“Hoseok,” you greeted with a nod. As usual, your semi-chilly behavior toward him didn’t faze him.

“Y/N, come on, I thought I told you to call me Hobi!” he said cheerfully, his eyes squinting from his smile. He was wearing a cream turtleneck tucked into his khakis, plaid blazer over his shoulders. He had dyed his hair from the black you were accustomed to, his strands now a platinum blonde. You realized, begrudgingly, that he looked more attractive than he did last year.

“Well would you look at that, we’re neighbors,” Hoseok said after scanning the list on the board.

“Try to keep the gaggle of screaming fans away from the hallway when I’m teaching, would you?” you said sarcastically. Hoseok’s hand flew to his heart, acting like you had personally attacked him.

“Y/N, I cannot believe you would accuse my students of being so frivolous,” he said dramatically. “Just because we have more fun in my class, doesn’t make it any less serious than yours.”

“Oh, please, save the theatrics for the students who signed up thinking your class would be an easy ‘A’. I know for a fact that you gave out four D’s last semester.” Hoseok’s eyes twinkled at your challenging tone.

“And how many did you give out, Professor Y/L/N?” Hoseok asked in a sweet voice.

“None, thank you very much. Since my students actually learn something in my class, I don’t have to give out such low grades,” you quipped. Hoseok chuckled, running a hand through his wavy blonde hair.

“Maybe I should sit in on one of your classes this year. Learn a thing or two,” Hoseok said, stepping toward you. You flushed momentarily at his low tone, immediately stepping back. He smirked at your reaction.

“It’s invite only to audit my class, Jung,” you said before turning on your heel to walk toward your office down the hall, “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m really not!” you yelled over your shoulder.

You heard Hoseok laugh, and you cursed yourself for giving him the satisfaction of knowing that his teasing had gotten to you.

You had promised yourself at the end of the summer not to play into it this year – you were going to be professional, courteous. But the first time you see Hoseok, bam, it goes right out the window.

You would just have to avoid Hoseok as much as possible.

You sighed once you closed your office door behind you. It was going to be a long semester.

---

Two months into the semester, the leaves had turned to burnt oranges and red, signaling the return of fall. Hoseok was sitting in one of the auditorium seats, his legs crossed over each other, looking down at his fingers with a soft smile playing at his lips. The delicate notes of the piano were playing from your classroom, the noise piercing the thin walls separating your classroom from his.

His class had been dismissed half an hour ago, and, based on the lack of students having straggling conversations in the hallway, yours had, too. He often waited after he was done teaching to see if you would play when you thought no one was listening. The notes you played sometimes indicated your mood; the music was soft and flowing, other times dark and intense.

Today it was, melancholic? He couldn’t quite place it, but it made him think about the change in seasons. He wondered if that was on your mind. The song was fluid, making him want to choreograph a piece to it, the dancer’s body matching the tempo of the music. He shut his eyes, picturing the movements behind his closed lids.

He’d never admit that he indulged in this as often as he did – he knew you wouldn’t be playing if you found out he was your only audience member. You had been avoiding him this semester. He had tried all of his old tricks – the loud music during office hours, teasing comments during staff meetings. But you wouldn’t blink.

He opened his eyes, the song transitioning into something light and happy. It made him think of sunshine.

---

You stopped playing, your hands lifting off the keys like they burned you. You had been playing mindlessly, your fingers starting to pluck away at the keys in the melody that you had thought of when you would think of Hoseok.

The more you avoided Hoseok, the more you seemed to miss his overly positive personality. You would see him at staff meetings, always giving you a big smile. One day you came in late after a meeting with a student ran long, and you came into the room to see that he had saved you a seat next to him, the last one left empty in the room.

He was still playing his music too loud, but you had stopped bugging him about it, and you noticed that it was gradually getting quieter.

You closed the cover over the keys, willing the thoughts about Hoseok to go away, packing up your papers and laptop. He was just your annoyingly happy colleague; there was no reason he should be taking up this much space in your mind.

---

“Are you honestly suggesting that the music composition class shouldn’t be considered a prerequisite for all music program students going forward?” you questioned angrily. You and Hoseok were at a standoff in the department meeting, his normally pleasant features tense, arms crossed in front of him.

“If that means that it prevents funding from getting diverted from the dance program to the instrumental students, then, yes, that is what I’m suggesting,” Hoseok countered.

“That’s ridiculous! Music composition is a fundamental building block for all students – including dance, Jung!” your voice had risen, and the department head looked between you both, deciding that the meeting had gotten too out of hand to continue.

“Professor Y/L/N, Professor Jung – why don’t the two of you take a walk around the building, get some fresh air. The rest of you, dismissed. We’ll resume this conversation, civilly, next week,” the department head declared.

You were fuming, angrily shoving your notebook and pen in your bag before storming out of the building. You felt someone else’s presence, and you turned, groaning when you saw the last person you wanted to see standing behind you, a shit-eating grin on his face.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you held up your hand to stop him.

“Give it a rest, Jung, I’m not in the mood,” you said grumpily.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the bookstore to grab a coffee and put this behind us,” Hoseok scoffed, smile wiped away. “But, I guess not.”

“Not everyone wants to just roll over and play nice when you flash them a smile, Hoseok.”

“Well, not everyone wants to act like they have a superiority complex, either.”

Your lips pursed, hands beginning to fidget with how angry and upset his comment made you. The two of you had been annoying last year, sure, but you had never been mean to each other. Until today.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you said quietly, heated tone still evident despite the low volume.

“The feeling is mutual,” Hoseok said harshly. “It’s not like you’ve even tried to get to know me. You immediately disliked me from day one. You never even gave me a chance!”

“That’s rich coming from you. All that shit with the music and the comments – it’s like you wanted me to dislike you,” you replied.

“I wanted you to talk to me, Y/N,” Hoseok said, exasperated. “Forget it, I can see now that it was useless to try.”

“I was trying to play nice this semester,” you said, glaring at Hoseok. “You came in like a damn bulldozer last year, disrupting everything in the department. And everyone just did what you wanted because you’re ‘mister nice guy’, and you make people laugh and people just think you’re perfect. Well, I don’t buy it.”

You took a deep breath, leveling your gaze at him.

“Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours,” your voice was stone-cold. Hoseok’s eyes flashed, lips in a thin line before he responded bitterly.

“Perfect.”

---

Things had been quiet between you and Hoseok since your fight outside of the building a few weeks ago. You politely nodded at each other in the hallway when you passed by, avoiding eye contact. You would grimace when you heard his laugh during lectures next door to yours, wanting to block the sound out.

You couldn’t get what he said to you out of your thoughts – you really didn’t know Hoseok very well. All you knew is what he presented to the rest of the world. He was bubbly and positive and optimistic; he probably thought you were just some brooding, academic stiff.

Hoseok noticed the songs you were playing lately were rather intense. Sometimes he would hear you smash against the keys like you were angry with the piano for not producing the sounds you wanted to hear.

He knew the feeling. He was spending more time in the dance studio lately, dancing aggressively to loud hip hop music, trying to drown out the frustration he was feeling at not being able to make you crack and talk to him.

That’s where he found himself tonight, trying to get rid of his stress. You were stubborn, but you were also beautiful, intelligent, passionate, tenacious. He turned his music up louder, drowning out the thoughts of you.

---

You had re-read the same sentence four times, red pen poised in your hand ready to edit the student’s paper. The loud beats were still audible from the practice rooms. It was late, and the building had been closed to students for the past two hours.

You decided to go down there. You weren’t going to get them in trouble for staying past close, but with finals coming up, you were sure the students needed a gentle reminder that sleeping was just as important as practicing.

You walked down the dark hallway, going down the steps to the practice rooms on the floor beneath the faculty offices, finding the one with the light on, music blaring through the glass panes separating the space from the hall.

You glanced into the room, seeing Hoseok dancing. You had never seen him in his element before, and it was captivating. He was wearing a black pair of sweats, an oversized yellow t-shirt adorning his slender frame. The music seemed to be moving through his body. He was grounded in the floor, an intense expression on his face as he hit heavy movements on the beat, fluidly moving through other parts depending on the music. You felt like this was personal, like you weren’t allowed to be watching, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

Hoseok looked into the mirror, his eyes looking toward the shadow in the hallway. His eyes met yours, his gaze burning into yours through the glass. You gulped.

He turned, grabbing a bottle of water and pausing the music. You figured that was your cue, opening the door to the studio and stepping inside.

“Was it too loud?” Hoseok asked, voice light despite the obvious tension in the room.

“No, it’s okay uh – I was grading papers, and I thought a student was still down here,” you explained softly. “I thought I’d tell them to go home, get some rest.”

Hoseok had a curious expression on his face. If he was surprised to hear why you were down here, he didn’t mention it. You felt the need to fill the silence, so you spouted the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re really talented, Hobi,” you said quickly. His eyebrows shot up at the sound of the nickname you never called him. “Hoseok – sorry, I meant Hoseok.”

“Watch out, people might think we’re friends,” Hoseok joked, but it came out strained.

“Hoseok – Hobi. I’m sorry about what I said a few weeks ago. I was heated, and I apologize,” you said, looking down at a scuff in the hardwood floors.

“I’m sorry, too. What I said was uncalled for, and I didn’t mean to upset you. Last year, this semester. Anything I’ve done that has made you mad or annoyed. I’m sorry,” Hobi said sincerely. “I-um, well…”

You looked up, waiting for him to continue.

“I just wanted your attention.”

“What?”

“I wanted your attention. I wanted you to want to talk to me. I wanted you to get to know me. Not the version of me that I show my students. I wanted you to see me. Really see me.”

You gulped, Hobi’s vulnerability making you nervous. He took a step toward you, and you willed yourself to stay in place.

“I know you do the same thing; you hide. Hide behind this persona you’ve created. I think it goes away when you play piano.”

“How do you–what do you mean?” you asked incredulously.

“I hear you play. After class. I never told you because I selfishly wanted to keep listening. Your music it – it tells a story. About your day, your feelings. If you didn’t tell me yourself, at least your music did.”

Your cheeks burned knowing that he was audience to all of the time spent in your classroom, working out your feelings on the piano like it was your therapy.

“Everything goes away when I play,” you stopped, thinking about how distracted you had been lately trying to compose. “Well, most of the time, anyway.”

“That’s how I feel when I dance,” Hobi admitted with a gentle smile. You nodded, realizing that the two of you had this in common, at least.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you said, backing away from Hobi toward the door.

“Wait –,” Hobi said, slightly flustered. “Dance with me.”

Your eyes widened. Hobi laughed, and you hated to admit that you had missed the sound.

“Come on, just trust me, Y/L/N.” You waited while he picked out a song, holding out his hand. You placed your fingers in his, and he pulled you close to him, leading you around the studio floor to the song. He made you feel light on your feet despite your lack of dance experience, his hand tightly gripping yours, his other floating over your waist. Your skin tingled from the contact.

He spun you around twice, your hands landing on his chest as you tried to regain your balance. You looked up at him, genuinely enjoying yourself. His bright smile you used to roll your eyes at lit up his features, causing your smile to match his.

“Can you see me now, Y/N?” Hobi asked, referencing his earlier confession. “Because I see you when you play. When you tell a student crying in your office that everything is going to be okay. And I see you now when you’re dancing with me like this.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Remember when you said I didn’t know anything about you?” You nodded, recognizing his reference to your fight outside of the department building. “I don’t think that’s true. But I know there’s so much more to know. And I want to know everything.”

Hobi’s hand came up to your cheek, softly placing it on the side of your face.

“I want to know you, too, Hobi,” you whispered.

He leaned forward, his breath fanning over your lips, “Want to start now?”

You gripped his t-shirt in your hand, pulling him the last few inches to your lips instead of answering. You felt him smile against your lips, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to him.

He pulled back, his forehead resting on yours as you caught your breath.

“Does this mean I can start playing my music loudly during office hours again?” Hobi teased, his fingers playing with the hem of your sweater, brushing against your skin.

You made a face at him, causing him to laugh. He kissed you on the forehead, then on the lips again to make you smile before answering.

“Not a chance.”

---

Check out my other work! ❤️

Taglist: @alpacaparkaseok, @delacyrose224, @moon-write

If you’d like to join my permanent taglist, let me know!

182 notes · View notes

maomao-words · 4 years

Text

Here is another self-indulgent piece of writing! (✿´‿`)

I binged Blue Lock’s manga in 3 days and I am now left with an empty void that I’m trying to fill by writing about my favorite characters in it.

On a side-note, I always seem to think of them as 18-19 years old.

Contains few spoilers on some characters’ ranks after the Third Selection!

Being their Personal Manager at Blue Lock: (Itoshi Rin, Seishiro Nagi, Hyoma Chigiri)

Rin Itoshi:

Being assigned to the 1st ranker in all of Blue Lock immediately after your adaptability test barely shocked anyone. At this point in time where the whole existence of Blue Lock centered around Itoshi Rin, it was more than obvious that Rin would only receive the utmost care and the very best of the candidates as his manager.

Ranking first in the agonizingly harsh Entrance Exam and managing to out best all 600 other candidates from over the country, you were always the sole choice for Itoshi Rin’s personal manager.

You were already familiar with Rin’s character, preferences, weaknesses, strengths, diet and overall living style. You even had his body measurements down to the millimeter engraved in your brain. You thought yourself as perfectly ready to assist him in his endeavor, but reality soon proved you slightly wrong.

Meeting the genius called Itoshi Rin for the first time, you swore your blood ran cold within your veins the minute his eyes locked with yours. An oppressive aura, suffocating enough to send shivers down your back, surrounded you immediately the minute you stepped into his room. It took all of your willpower not to tremble in front of him.

Rin’s gaze did not move from yours for what seemed like an eternity, but noticing no visible signs of fear or submission on you, his lips slightly curved in a smirk and he finally stood up from his chair, discarding your test results on the table nearby.

“Not bad. She’ll do for now.”

Once you gained Rin’s initial approval, you started your mission as his closest aid. From the moment Rin opened his eyes to the minute he closed his door at night to sleep, you never left his side. You calculated his calories intake and planned his meals accordingly. You carefully reserved the training field and machines to Rin’s own wishes, making absolute sure they are available for Rin to use without any interruption or interference from other players. You planned, ran around, filled up water bottles and picked up emergency kits more quickly than you have ever did back in your own school’s competitive soccer club. You did that over and over again, to the point that you felt like dying. Until you finally broke down.

But being Itoshi Rin’s personal aid did not even offer you the privilege of breaking down in public. You waited until the day’s clamor and chaos was over. You meticulously prepared Rin’s lunch and reminded him to take the few tablets of vitamins afterwards before finally excusing yourself.

Rin raised a brow in faint confusion, as you have never willingly separated yourself from his side, even during meals. But the wound within your chest has finally festered to the point of no return, and you were unable to provide him with a convincing explanation before you gathered your papers and left.

The empty hallway located far from the center cafeteria soon echoed with your faint sobs. You gathered up your knees close to your chest and slowly rocked yourself in hopes of easing your pain. Weeks of harsh labor, zero communication with the outside world as well as the stress that came with handling all of Rin’s demanding responsibilities finally bled over.

You were not giving up. ‘Make no mistake,’ you whispered to yourself between sobs. You were just taking a much earned break before drying up your tears and returning to work.

But just as you began to feel frustrated at the tears still falling on your cheeks, you felt a heavy cloth fall on top of your head accompanied with an extremely familiar fragrance.

You jolted, hand coming up to clutch at Rin’s jacket before glancing up at the tall figure standing by your side. You opened your mouth but a round package slammed into your face next, leaving you to wince in pain.

“Eat that and let’s hurry back. I can’t find my black cleats.”

Rin’s voice echoed in the empty hall, forcing you to bring your attention to the melon bread he threw at you. Sounds of clothes rustling beside you made you look up again, only to find that Rin has sat down beside you, hand coming up to tug you closer to him.

Placing his palm on top of your eyes, Rin’s voice sounded as soft as ever as he whispered.

“Rest. I’m here.”

Seishiro Nagi:

As you stared down at your test results that have finally arrived after a long wait, you suddenly had the urge to cry out.

Why him of all people?

Having extensively studied all of Blue Lock’s key players prior to passing the Entrance Exam as a manager, you were filled with admiration and respect to them and thus felt ready to be assigned to any of them. Any of them but Nagi Seishiro.

A beginning who did not even know the most basic of the basics on football yet somehow blessed enough to be labeled as a genius even among Blue Lock’s outstanding participants. That was Nagi Seichiro.

You abhorred geniuses. You abhorred how easily they reached their goals, how effortlessly they achieved their desires and how the entire world seemed to bow down in front of them. Becoming the personal manager of a hard working individual, like Isagi Yoichi for example, would have made you the happiest woman on the planet. To watch that individual sweat and toil, think and plan all of his minor actions in order to reach the pinnacle of his dreams through both talent and hard work and get to assist him in that process was the reason behind your entrance to Blue Lock.

So when the day where the eleven chosen managers entered the isolated towering building to meet the elite players ranking at the top of the whole project came, all you could taste was bitterness and rage in your mouth.

After Ego finished the basic introductions between managers and players, he gave the green light for you all to start performing your duties. As you began to collect your belongings that were delivered to you by the staff, you could see the tall figure of a young man approaching you from behind.

Without allowing Nagi the faintest chance to offer his help, you hoisted your luggage up with both hands and started walking towards the managers’’ sleeping quarters with only “I will be back shortly” thrown behind your back at the frozen Nagi.

A job was a job after all and you had no intention to slack off because of your personal dislikes. But you will be sure to maintain a professional distance from Blue Lock’s 6th ranker to avoid any unnecessary trouble.

Being Nagi’s personal manager was as hard as you have expected. Having to support a monster who does not cease to evolve with each passing day at a frightening pace would be considered had by anyone’s standards. But you were already aware of the heavy duties imposed on you from the start so you grinded your teeth and bared the pain. The only issue you seemed to have was, unsurprisingly, Nagi himself.

You have intended for your cold treatment the day you both met to be enough warning for the player. You wanted to perform your duties. Nothing less, nothing more. But Nagi seemed to have another idea on the relationship between you.

He did not hinder your tasks nor act difficult on purpose to harm you, but he also made sure to greet you warmly each morning before plopping his large hand on top of your head and gently pat your hair for a few minutes before leaving.

He made sure to stick close to you during meal time, pushing off whatever he deemed not-tasty to your own plate, and innocently smiling when your try to scold him. He always shared his dessert with you, no matter how many times you tried to lie and tell him you disliked sweets. He constantly tried his best not to overburden you with questions on players and tactics and carefully chose the times where you were free enough to answer him.

In short, Nagi Seichiro was a weirdo. A weirdo you wanted to choke.

As the time went by, your perspective on Nagi was entirely transformed, despite yourself. You started to put extra care into his meals, go beyond what is required of you when it came to taking care of his training schedule and treatment and even sacrifice some of your free time in order to answer as much of his questions as you can.

One morning, as Nagi stepped in the room and smiled brightly at you, you found yourself moving in closer to him before raising your arms and catching him in a tight hug. Nagi almost stumbled in surprise, but managed to stable you both as he wrapped his hands behind your back. But before he could even utter a word, your mouth opened and a joyful, “Good morning Sei-chan!” came out.

Hyoma Chigiri:

“Are you sure you wish to be assigned to Chigiri?” Ego’s detached voice echoed in the almost empty hall, stopping you in your tracks. The results of the Blue Lock Entrance Exam for managers were just announced and the chosen eleven were asked to pack up and be ready to leave in a two-hours frame.

“You do realize that your rank actually qualifies you to become Itoshi’s Rin support, don’t you?” Ego’s fingers tapped on the table in a rhythmic manner, not stopping even as you glared at him.

“Yes, sir, I am well aware of that fact. But my decision will not change.” Your voice, calm and steady, caused Blue Lock’s host to grin, his raven locks falling to the side as he tilted his head to inspect you closely. “A calculative, rational and logical tactician as you, who managed to outrank all 600 other participants in a six hour long exam, is moved by mere personal emotions?”

It was hard for any regular person to detect the mockery dripping from each of Ego’s words and not feel their blood boiling within their veins. Only you slightly smirked at Ego, eyes curving in genuine mirth as you joyfully answered: “Yes! Is there any problem?”

All the struggles you have faced so far in order to reach this point were, after all, done for the sake of one person: Hyoma Chigiri. Specializing in medical treatment and athletic injuries as a manager was not a coincidence. You have long became aware of your intense desire to support Chigiri and aid him in his journey to achieve his dreams. No matter how many people laughed at you both, no matter how many criticized your choices and claimed you could do much, much better than an injured boy, playing on borrowed time, your resolve never shook.

As you finally locked eyes with Chigiri after your arrival at Blue Lock, you saw how his shoulders slightly trembled and his eyes widened, and your resolve was instantly renewed. Not many words were needed as you playfully extended your hand to shake Chigiri’s own. He was aware that you were there for him and that you will not change your mind no matter what he says or does.

Your duties at Blue Lock were slightly easier than your fellow managers simply due to the fact that you were already familiar with Chigiri’s routine. Needing no time to adjust, you dove head first into taking care of Chigiri, putting the well-being of his knee as your utmost priority. You tried your best not to bite your lips each time you bent down to take a look at the previously injured area, fully knowing that Chigiri has made his peace with the incident and was now focusing on moving on with no regrets.

Your favorite task to perform was, and still is, taking care of Chigiri’s silky hair. You were faced with his slightly damaged locks the day you arrived at Blue Lock’s building and Chigiri had to apologize a couple of times for ruining the hair you treasured the most. Ever since then, you returned to your usual task of picking hair products for him, drying and styling his hair depending on Chigiri’s schedule for the day. Braids were your go-to style but you also enjoyed changing things up, knowing that it made Chigiri happy each time you tried to come up with a new hairdo.

Now that you were finally reunited with your childhood friend and lover, you were ready to give it your all and see it all to its final end.

#blue lock #blue lock manga #itoshi rin #seishirou nagi #hyoma chigiri #itoshi rin x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #hyoma chigiri x reader

552 notes · View notes

bakubabes-tatakae · 3 years

Text

A/N: I hope you all enjoy part 3/4 of my pieces for day four of the anniversary collab for the @konoblog-simps. You can find all the lovely pieces for the day here! Today’s theme was song pieces and we’re gonna get a little ✨spicy✨ with our boy Grimmjow. I have one more piece for the day for you after this piece! You can find all the days of the collab here!

Pairing: {NSFW} Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x fem!Reader

Song Choice: Fire Up The Night by New Medicine

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, 18+ content, daddy kink, degredation, language, dirty talk, friends with benefits

Word Count: 1.7k

“It was a quarter past two

When I started feeling blue

And if I tell the truth

I was thinking 'bout you”

You hated the pure amount that this man was always on your mind. His sarcasm, his righteousness, his pure ego. He was always in the front and center of it even in the times that you tried to keep him in the back of your mind. You had told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for him, but that had changed when the two of you decided to spend most nights of the week together. The friends with benefits thing flew out the window very quickly for you.

“You left a little scar

And I wonder where you are

As I climb into my car

And I'm heading to the bar”

You slowly sat forward on the couch, staring at the clock on the wall. It was two in the morning, why did he have to be on your mind now? The one day a week that he was busy and your mind was going crazy. You stood from the couch and made your way to your bedroom, trying to knock this feeling loose as you shook your head to clear your mind.

As you entered the room and looked into the mirror attached to your dresser your thoughts were rampant again. The hickeys that lined the upper portion of your chest made you want to scream. He had left his mark, just like he always did. If Grimmjow wasn’t leaving something behind for you then what would be the point?

That’s when you picked up your phone and opened his messages. He never told you what he did that one night a week that the two of you didn’t spend together in the sheets, but you wondered where he was tonight.

The message that you sent was short and sweet, but who knows, maybe he’d change his mind and come to your place for the night?

“And I'm just another lonely boy in a lonely world

And this I know is true

I close my eyes and I find you

And the dirty little things we do”

You sat on the edge of your bed and let your body fall back onto the mattress, closing your eyes to try to make yourself sleepy. You had a feeling that your message would never be answered, but there was that little ray of hope that kept its place in your heart.

As you settled into bed and grabbed the blankets around you all the nights that the two of you had spent together flooded through you. Images of the two of you in the heat of the moment kicking your heart into gear and keeping that sleep that you wanted so badly from coming.

“In the middle of the night

When I dream of getting you

Man my head is going crazy

Thinking what I'd do to you”

All you could think about was him showing up at your door. You’d open it to see that sly grin on his face, the grin that made you want nothing more than to pin him against the surface behind him. Your head spun as you thought of the blue hair that you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through. The chiseled pecs that you wanted to run your hands over. The strong arms that you wanted to have wrapped around you as he held you against the wall.

“I'd rip off all your clothes

After Breaking down the door

I'd make you beg for more

As I pin you to the floor”

That’s when your screen lit up. Your hands couldn’t move quick enough as you snatched the phone from the pillow beside you. And the name that was on the screen made your heart flutter more than it should have. And to your surprise the message from him said that he would be over in twenty minutes.

So that knock on your door didn’t surprise you. You had been sitting at your kitchen table waiting for him for what seemed like hours.

As the front door opened and the smirk that adorned him showed, your loins immediately ached. He didn’t even have time to say hello before you grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him through the doorway. You slammed the door shut with your foot and pushed him against the wall, your lips pressing to his roughly.

A chuckle vibrated against your lips as he laughed into your kiss. “Someone couldn’t stand one night without me, now could they?”

You pushed him against the wall harder and grasped his chin in your hand. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Grimmjow wasn’t one to let you take control, so this one time thing was short lived. His strong hands grasped your sides and spun you around, pinning your back to the wall where he had just been. “And since when do I take orders from you?” His lips met your neck as you dropped your head against the wall. “Daddy doesn’t like to be bossed around by his little slut.” His hand wrapped into your hair and pulled your head back more. “Now get that pretty little ass in the bedroom.”

You obediently moved forward, his figure looming behind you as he watched you walk to the bedroom. As you entered the doorway you heard a growl sound in his chest. His next words were as commanding as the ones before them. “Take off the clothes, don’t keep daddy waiting.”

Your hands grasped the waistband of your shorts and slowly pushed them down your legs, shimmying some for his entertainment.

Grimmjow was impatient. He grabbed his own shirt and threw it over his head, tossing it to the floor next to him. His hands were on your hips before you even had time to step out of your shorts. “What part of don’t keep me waiting didn't you understand?” He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and ripped it off of you.

Your hands landed on his chest and slowly ran down, admiring every firm inch of it. Your lips touched the bottom of his chin and he pulled you closer to him. “Please,”

The whine on your voice made his ego go crazy. “Please what doll, what do you want daddy to do?”

“Fuck me, Grimmjow.”

His hands lifted you from the floor and tossed you onto the mattress behind you. “Your wish is my command, naughty girl.”

His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them apart roughly before pulling down his sweatpants. His erection stood before you and as he lined himself up with your entrance you couldn’t help the whines that escaped you.

With a quick thrust he bottomed himself out inside you. An exasperated grunt left him as he stayed still, letting you adjust to his girth.

Each roll of his hips made you cry out, pleasure coursing through you as you gripped at the bedsheet.

“'Cause you'd be screamin'

(Oh, oh oh oh oh oh)

Baby don't stop

( no no no no)

Come fire up the night

Make me feel alive

Fire up the night”

The sounds of skin against skin filled the room as his fingers intertwined with your hair, pulling your head into the pillows.

Your walls slowly closed around his cock as he pounded into you. His length hit all the right spots as he listened to every blissful noise that came from you.

“F-fuck Grimmjow.” Your hands wrapped around his waist and your fingers dug into his lower back. “Please, don’t stop.”

Grimmjow’s lips pressed to your neck as he egged you on, knowing that you were close to your release. “Do I make you feel alive, Y/n.”

Your cunt clenched around him, the feeling of your walls suffocating his cock throwing him over the edge. Your orgasm shattered the world around you as he emptied himself out inside your core.

“Damn I've got you in my bed

And you're wrapped around my head

Never thought I'd really see

But you're making me believe”

Grimmjow collapsed on the bed beside you, staring over at you as you both fought for your breath. His eyes were full of admiration as you stared back at him, something you had never seen in him before.

You slowly sat up on your elbows and took a deep breath. But as you attempted to speak he stopped you. “Let me say something first, I need to get this off my chest.”

Your heart began to beat out of your chest. Was he about to tell you he couldn’t do this anymore? Was your time with him over? Had he found someone else?

You listened as he sighed. His voice was soft as he spoke again. “I know I said that we needed to keep this a friends with benefits thing… no feelings attached… but I think that I’ve failed at that.” His eyes were nervous as he met yours. “So I understand if you don’t want to do this anymore, but I can’t keep hiding this from you.”

Your eyes widened and you climbed toward him, straddling his hips and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’ve been wanting to tell you how I’ve been feeling for weeks now.” Your lips met his and danced together, more than just the normal sexual desire behind your kiss, pure passion behind every movement. “I don’t want to stop this, Grimmjow.”

Grimmjow cupped your face into his hands and smiled, not the normal smirk that he wore, a real smile. He lifted a leg and flipped you over, lying his body across yours as he looked into yours eyes. “I think I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

A nervous laugh erupted from you and his expression became nervous. But as you opened your mouth and spoke back it eased his mind. “I love you, too, Grimmjow.”

Taglist: @monic00l @strangeinternetwasteland @rowley-with-ackerman @kyu-pine @ellechanwrites @bonnisimpparker @impinthecloset @nikiniki743

©bakubabes-hatake’s original content, please do not repost/modify without my permission

294 notes · View notes

high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years

Text

Prompt: "I'll Be Here To Protect You" - Loki x Reader - Words: 2,564

A/N: This sort of follows the oneshot "Worthy" but can be read alone. Basically, Reader is Silver Shadow (see Marvel character list for reference), Loki and Reader are married, yada yada, you'll see…

"Silver? I think you should take a look at this," Cap said over the comms. You, Cap, Loki, and Widow had gone to investigate a Hydra base you'd received intel on. You'd been informed that the base was abandoned but that they still had some records stored there.

"On my way," You replied to the Captain, teleporting over immediately. "Oh my goodness," You gasped at the sight that greeted you. There, lying curled up in a small cage, was a girl no older than 5 or 6. Cap ripped open the cage and gently pulled her out, holding her in his arms. She whimpered slightly and you could tell she'd been beaten. Instantly, you wanted to kill the people who'd done that to her.

"Can you help her?" He whispered, not wanting to startle her any more. You nodded and held out your arms to take her. As soon as you touched her, you started working.

"You might need to hold me up," You warned the Captain. "This is going to be tiring."

"Alright," He nodded. "Then let's get you out of here." He easily lifted you both and carried you out to the quinjet. You vaguely heard him talking on the comms but were a bit too focused to actually make out his words. He set you down on one of the chairs with the girl curled up in your lap. After a while, before the others got back, she seemed to be healed and sleeping. You were exhausted so you adjusted yourself slightly in the chair and dozed off as well.

"Y/N?" You turned your head, eyes still refusing to open with exhaustion, and groaned slightly feeling the kink in your neck from sleeping weird. "Y/N! Please wake up, hm? Please?" Someone said. Now they were poking your arm. Your other arm however seemed to be asleep, as you couldn't feel it, and you had a weight on your legs and chest. Suddenly remembering what all had transpired, your eyes shot open. "See? I told you she would wake up if I did that!" Natasha said, with what you knew to be false happiness, to the girl on your lap. The girl simply glared back at Nat before turning her attention to you, with a completely different expression. Her eyes widened and she tried smiling as though she was out of practice and waved slightly.

"Hi there," You smiled. "My name's Y/N. What's yours?" She frowned and looked away before mumbling something. "Hm? I couldn't hear you," You said.

"Helius," She replied with a frown.

"Oh," You replied. "Well, do you like that name?" She shook her head vigorously. "Would you like a new name? One just as pretty as you?"

"Really?" She asked, eyes lighting up once more.

"Yep! And then you'll have a special name for yourself! Just like I do, and just like Natasha," You said pointing at the redhead. "And-" You were about to point to your husband when you realized for the first time since waking back up that he wasn't with the team anymore. Your eyes darted back to Nat who looked worried.

"Y/N?" The little girl said quietly, pulling on your sleeve.

"What is it, dear?" She whispered in it in your ear and you nodded. "Oh yes, um. The bathroom's right over here." You took her over and opened the door.

"I get to use that?" She asked, surprised.

"Yes," You replied slowly.

"Wow! You're really nice!" She hurried inside and closed the door herself. You stood there for a moment, shocked, and Nat walked up behind you.

"She's not even accustomed to using a normal bathroom, Nat!"

"Those people, if they even should be called that," she said, shaking her head. "Are monsters." You looked around once more, trying to see if Loki had shown back up. "He's up with Steve," She said, pointing to the cockpit.

"What? Why? He's willingly spending time with the Captain?" You said teasing.

"He said he needed to think."

"Did he give any clues?"

"Not verbally. But I think he's nervous."

"About what?" You exclaimed. She nodded towards the bathroom door.

"Being a Dad."

"A Da-" you interrupted yourself, chuckling lightly. "You think just because we found her means we'll be her parents?" Nat smirked and nodded. "First of all, Tony will probably have a cow if we wanted to keep her."

"Well your husband had a horse, may I remind you."

"That was a made up story! Would you please stop referencing it!" You shrieked.

"Only when it stops being funny," She laughed.

"Second, there's probably already some rule in place that states we need to put her in the custody of Child Protective Services."

"We'll see about that."

"She's yours!" Tony said 2 hours later once you'd arrived home and gone straight to a conference room to meet with him.

"What?" You exclaimed. You hadn't even had the chance to talk with Loki yet. You glanced outside the room at the girl sitting in the hallway. The whole team was there with you but Loki had still not said a word. You looked at him but he refused to make eye contact and you couldn't read his expression. "Don't get me wrong, Tony. She's wonderful and I think she deserves the world but why?"

"You found her! Who knows if she has powers? It's best to have one of our own caring for her just in case. And besides, according to Romanoff's story, the girl practically glared daggers into anyone else who came her way."

"Alright I guess. I mean," You sighed. "Loki? Darling? Um, what do you think?"

"You've already made the decision, Stark. I will respect that and allow my wife to make the necessary changes to our living quarters to care for the child. Now is there anything else you'll be needing at the moment? I need a shower."

"Uh, no. It's-we're done," Tony said, seeming surprised at Loki's attitude just as you were. You all started to head out but Tony stopped you for a moment. "Here," He said, handing you a credit card. "Buy whatever you want for her." You smiled and shook your head.

"What do you know? The man of iron does have a heart."

"Yeah but don't tell anyone," He chuckled.

About a week later, Helius was in her new bedroom, thoroughly showered in gifts from Tony, but still not talking to anyone. Neither was Loki for that matter. You yourself were exhausted, staying up late nights keeping the girl company when she woke up screaming from nightmares. When you eventually came back to bed, you often found your husband had gotten up already and disappeared somewhere to 'be alone'. With Helius, you offered her a few ideas for a new name but she didn't like any of them. You even told her some ideas the others had suggested but she hated those even more. You seemed to be the only one she was comfortable with. With Loki, you'd tried to talk to him, even calling and texting him but he wouldn't answer. Today, though, you decided you needed to do something about both of them or else you were probably going to go crazy. First, though, you had some formal paperwork to take care of with Tony in order to have legal guardianship of her.

"I don't know what to do about it, Stank," You sighed, hours later. Tony wrinkled his nose slightly at the nickname but listened. "Half of this I honestly still can't fill out for you because she won't pick a name. I don't know how to make her socialize and I sure don't know how to get Loki to spill what's bugging him." Tony got up and walked to your side, putting his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm not sure what to tell you either, Shiny."

"Watch it," You hissed, whipping out a knife you always kept on your person and holding it dangerously close to his baby-maker. He backed away quickly.

"Maybe you just need to corner your husband and, uh, pull that trick on him," He chuckled nervously. "Ok, well, um, just hold onto that paperwork and send it to me when it's done, alright?" You nodded and gathered it together before heading back to your floor. It was early afternoon and you thought you may have a shot at talking to your husband while Helius took her nap. She'd found her own little routine to keep her occupied during the day in her room even when you weren't there. But you always had to be home when she slept because of her nightmares and she refused to socialize with others.

"I'll be in the bedroom until dinner is ready," Loki said upon your return.

"Can we please talk first?" You asked.

"There's nothing to discuss," He replied, quickly walking to the bedroom and slamming the door.

"Oh yes there is!" You exclaimed, teleporting yourself inside the bedroom.

"I hate when you do that!" He yelled.

"Well I hate when you do this! Now man up and tell me what's wrong or I really will back you in a corner with my knife!"

"I don't want to talk about it, alright?" He hissed. "Now keep your voice down or else you'll alert the child that we're having a disagreement."

"Oh, so you're finally acknowledging her?" A guilty expression flashed over his face and he turned away. "What is it, Loki?" You pleaded. "I don't want to argue. I just want to know what's going through your mind. Ever since we found her, you've been-"

"You found her," He said. "I want no part in raising a child that is not my own."

"What about your own blood?" You asked, wondering for your own future if he was against kids in general or not.

"I-" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. But I certainly don't want to adopt. I've never seen a good result of adoption."

"Oh," You said slowly. "So that's what this is about."

"What do you mean?"

"You're worried about your own background. Is that it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," He huffed, crossing his arms and further distancing himself from you.

"Loki, please. Listen to me. You may not have had the best family situation yourself, but that doesn't mean you won't be a great Dad. I think-no-I know you'd do wonderfully! Please believe me!"

"I-"

"Mommy!" A voice called out, sounding frightened. Your eyes and Loki's widened in surprise. She'd never called you that before.

"I had better check on her," You sighed. Loki nodded and you rushed off. Half an hour later you came out of her room to find Loki waiting for you on the couch.

"What happened?"

"More nightmares," You groaned and slumped down next to him.

"Is that why you're never in bed anymore?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah. It seems she can't go more than half an hour without having another one." He nodded silently and took your hand in his.

"Well, I suppose I should commend you for your sacrifices for her. I just don't know if I can-" You shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips.

"I understand, Loki," You smiled sadly. "Mind you, I don't exactly agree. But I respect how you feel. I guess I can talk with Tony tomorrow about finding her a new home." You got up quickly, to hide your own emotions from him, and went to prepare dinner. That night, Loki made you go to bed extra early so you could actually get some sleep. You appreciated it, but your internal clock had gotten so used to it already that it woke you up a few hours later about the time Helius would be having her first nightmare. When you didn't hear anything from her room, you got worried. You rushed out of your bedroom and, as you approached her room, heard voices.

"Where's mommy?" Helius cried, again sounding frightened. Drawing your knife outside her closed door, you were ready to teleport in a surprise whatever intruder was there.

"She's sleeping, sweetheart. Do you think your new Dad could help you?" You nearly cried at hearing Loki's voice so soft and gentle with her. It took you a few more seconds to process that he'd referred to himself as her 'Dad'.

"I thought you hated me," She whispered.

"I don't hate you, little one," He assured her. "Do you want to know why I haven't talked to you yet?" You didn't hear a reply but as Loki went on you could only assume she nodded. "I never had a good father. And when you came along a week ago, I was so worried that if I tried to be your father I would mess something up. And I couldn't let that happen because you are too wonderful and too beautiful."

"I don't have a beautiful name," she sighed.

"Hasn't mommy come up with any good ideas?" He asked.

"No, well, yes but I didn't like any of them. They're pretty but," she trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"May I suggest one of my personal favorites?" You cracked the door open just a little so you could see. Their backs were to you, sitting on the edge of the bed. Loki had his arm wrapped around her as she curled onto his side, dwarfed by his height even sitting. She nodded slowly in reply to his question. "How about Arabella?"

"I love it!" She exclaimed, standing quickly and jumping up and down. "Thank you, Dad," She said smiling brightly as she threw her arms around his neck for a hug. He was surprised but gladly gave her a somewhat awkward hug back. "But what if the monsters come back?" She asked, voice trembling slightly.

"I'll protect you."

"Always?"

"I, Loki of Asgard, hereby make a promise to you, Arabella, my daughter. I'll be here to protect you forever and always." Arabella hugged him again and started crying. "Why are you crying, my dear?"

"Because you're the most bestest Dad I could ever ask for."

"Well, I, uh, thank you," He stuttered, not used to that kind of compliment. "I've got an idea. How about tomorrow morning I introduce you to some of the others here?"

"Why? I don't wanna!" You bit back a chuckle at her childish exclamation.

"But they're all really nice and they'll be like your new Aunts and Uncles!"

"Well, maybe," She conceded.

"Good! Now why don't you go back to sleep and I'll stay right here until all the monsters go away for tonight." She nodded and gave him another hug before allowing him to tuck her in. You smiled, wiping away your own tears, and snuck back to your bedroom. A couple hours later, Loki snuck back in himself.

"So how's the bestest Dad doing?" You whispered. Loki tensed up when you said that.

"So you heard us?" He said. You got up and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind.

"Yep," you said. "And I couldn't be happier. You really mean it? This means I don't have to talk to Tony tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not!" He replied grinning.

"Well then I have some very exciting news for you." He turned around, quirking his eyebrows questioningly. "How would you like to be a father to two?"

#loki #loki oneshot #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x oc #silver shadow #marvel #avengers

259 notes · View notes

hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

Text

No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

••••••••••••••

Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

#bnha #bnha x reader #dabi x reader #Dabi #mha smut #mha x reader #tw: noncon #tw: pain play

258 notes · View notes

supersilversleuth · 3 years

Text

Your Words Aren’t Real (So Why Do They Hurt So Much?) by SuperSilverSpy

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dick Grayson & Batfamily members, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson & Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson-centric, Dick Grayson Whump, Whump, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, I seem to be doing a lot of that these days…, Whumptober 2021, Mind Control, fear toxin, Hallucinations, anyway, Angst, SuperSilverSpy, SilverGrayson, SilverWhump, Taunting, Insults, ”who did this to you?”

Summary:

“Sometimes I wish you were my father, but I know you could never be. Bruce will always be my real father. You were just an inadequate stand-in.”

Dick choked, barely noticing the swift kick to his ribs before he was already stumbling back, ducking around Steph’s fist as he fought to regain his balance.

“You were a terrible brother,” said the voices of Jason and Tim. “All you ever did with me was make mistakes.”

OR Mind Control with a heaping of Angst

No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT… taunting | insults | “Who did this to you?”

Series:

Part 3 of 2021 Most Whumperful Time of the Year - Dick Grayson-centric

Language: English Words: 1,645 Chapters: 1/1

Nightwing awoke in a warehouse, surrounded by Batman, Red Hood, Robin, Spoiler, and Red Robin. They were all passed out on the ground, strange devices wrapped around their heads. They seemed relatively unharmed, not a bruise or laceration or twisted limb in sight. He sighed in relief.

Looking around, Dick noted the absence of visible hostiles. He turned to Robin, who was closest to him and inspected the device around boy’s head; whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. He felt along the smooth metal, searching (or feeling) for a way to remove it.

A moment later, several ding! sounds echoed in the warehouse, emitting from the head devices. Damian’s eyes opened, glowing a vibrant yellow. Dick backed up as the rest of his family began to rise around him. He knew mind control when he saw it, though that didn’t stop him from asking, “Uh…guys? You still in there?”

Their faces remained expressionless as they turned threateningly towards him.

“Guess not,” he answered himself. “Looks like it’s just another exciting day in the life of the great and eternally stressed out Nightwing.”

He’d probably have to come up with yet another insightful and compelling speech to snap them out of it, par for the course for him at this point. Oh but how he wished it wasn’t. Every single time somebody in his family got brainwashed, or mind-controlled, or possessed (all of which happened way more often than it should), he was pretty much always the one to talk them down, or get beaten up and nearly killed for his efforts. It had reached a point where he wondered if Bruce was actively trying to get one of Dick’s siblings to accidentally kill him.

Well, at least one thing was different this time—he was facing off against five family members at once, instead of one, or two, or his entire f***ing team. But that was a story for another day.

Maybe, he could actually fight close to his full capability against them, without too much fear of hurting them. He didn’t have to knock them out or sedate them after all, he just needed to damage those device things around their heads.

Hood lunged at him first, guns drawn. Dick dodged, wrenching one of the man’s guns away with a grunt. He threw it across the room, knowing it did nothing for him in close quarters combat wherein he was attempting not to hurt, kill, or maim any of his would-be killers. There was no time for him to contemplate Jason’s likely reaction to the discovery of his ruined gun that would surely come later. Batman was already springing into action, fists swinging through the air in an unnaturally aimed-to-kill way.

Dick flipped around, dodging attacks from the two. He needed to bide his time, wait for the right opportunity to strike. He tried to electrocute them to short-circuit their metal head-band device things, but it didn’t really seem to do anything. He did, however, manage to get in a good hit to Jason’s head, which disoriented the man—and likely the person in control of him. Bruce went down next, Dick slipping the man’s belt out from around his waist in a move no one else in the world knew, and throwing a flash bomb in his face.

Pocketting what he could from the belt before tossing that too away (the emergency beacon didn’t work), he turned to face his new opponents. Spoiler and Robin, the short little duo wreaking havoc to his right, with Bruce and Jason getting back up on his left.

Whoever was controlling his family wasn’t the best at it, though forcing them to attempt murder against their own instincts was a feat in itself.

“You failed me,” said two very familiar voices in unison. It was Bruce and Damian.

Dick was so startled he almost didn’t manage to dodge the sneak attack Red Robin was attempting from behind.

“You failed the mission, our mission, you’ve failed the family I’ve given you, and the city I put in your responsibility.” It was just Bruce now, speaking blankly, words flowing out with no restraint.

Dick swallowed, but forced himself to ignore the man, ignore the words. It was probably just a program to detect negative emotion associated with thoughts of Nightwing and force the mind-controlled victim to...to say the thoughts out loud. Logically, he knew this.

Logic couldn’t prepare him for what came next.

“Sometimes I wish you were my father, but I know you could never be. Bruce will always be my real father. You were just an inadequate stand-in.”

Dick choked, barely noticing the swift kick to his ribs before he was already stumbling back, ducking around Steph’s fist as he fought to regain his balance.

“You were a terrible brother,” said the voices of Jason and Tim. “All you ever did with me was make mistakes.”

His vision had blurred at some point in time, he wasn’t sure when. A fist slammed into his jaw, a bow staff swiped at his feet. Purple flashed in the corner of his vision as his wrist was brutally snapped. Dick opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“They say never meet your heroes. I guess they were right then, hmmm? Except you were never my hero, and yet you still managed to disappoint me anyway.” Steph’s tone was sharp and biting as she jammed a shuriken into his shoulder.

Dick pushed her away, doing a messy backflip to land on Bruce, using what little momentum he had to push off towards Jason, tackling him for the umpteenth time.

“You were unfit to be a mentor, just look at you now. And the students become the masters…” said the scathing voices of Dami, Steph, and Tim. Laughter echoed in his ears, sounding cruelly amused. No, this wasn’t them, they would never say such things…

“Oh it’s all true,” said a voice from behind him, Jay’s voice. “What is it, Goldie, can’t handle the pressure?”

Dick tried in vain to block the voices out, focusing just long enough to knock the device around Tim’s head askew.

The boy fell to the ground, reality mixing with fantasy as Tim’s eyes looked up at him, cold and lifeless, as blood pooled around Tim’s twisted body, as if he’d fallen… Corpse-pale lips parted, harsh words spilling out onto unforgiving ground, “You think I’m just like you, but you’re wrong. I’m better. You couldn’t beat me if you tried. I’m too pure, somehow untainted by your doomed soul, even after all this time.”

Crazed laughter echoed in Dick’s ears, even as he blinked and saw Tim as he actually was, lying unconscious—and alive, on the ground.

“Look at that, failing to protect those you love most? You’re worthless to them, and to me. I should never have taken you in.” The words were growled in a familiar deep register, and yet...the tone was unusually cruel—

Dick found himself sprawled on the ground, back still smarting from where he’d been kicked. He struggled to his good hand and knees, only to hear the sound of a gun cocking. He looked up. Jason stood above him, Steph and Damian on either side.

“Tt, Grayson, always so pathetic.” For a moment, Dami seemed to be wearing an older version of his uniform, from when he was still Dick’s Robin…

Steph tossed her hair back, giggling, and Dick saw her in a different costume, that of Robin, and then it changed to Batgirl. Gah, he was so confused.

She wasn’t. “You’re not going to make it this time around. How does it feel knowing we’d all be glad? You’ve hurt us more than helped us, Dick. It’s time you’ve faced that fact.”

Jason smirked down at him. “Any last words? We all know you don’t deserve them, but, well,” he smirked, “I’m feeling charitable today.”

Dick lunged upward, body tensed as if to tackle, arms outstretched as if to hug. Dick himself wasn’t quite sure what it was meant to be, what he wanted anymore…

Bang!

The gun went off, bullet burying itself in Dick’s side.

Three pairs of feet began to kick at his prone body from all sides. He curled in on himself, clutching desperately at the bullet wound, mind hazy with blood loss and something...else… A scraping noise, close to his ear. Dick barely registered it through the pain of the systematic blows raining down. Another pair of feet entered his vision, Bruce’s Batman boots. Dick panicked, using one hand to staunch the blood flow while the other went to his neck, to where he instinctively knew the real problem was. There was a device, attached to his neck, like a mini version of what the others had, but missing a few parts. He yanked it off, and immediately, he heard the thumps of his hopefully just unconscious family members falling to the ground.

Dick squinted at the device, as he felt himself joining them in the land of darkness. A familiar scarecrow label stared back at him, Jervis Tetch craftsmanship was practically written all over the thing as well…

—

Jason woke, groggy and disoriented. He found himself amongst other bats, all lying on the floor in a circle like some kind of crazy sorcerer spell gone wrong. The others were slowly waking, blinking and shaking their heads as if to clear the fog away. And in the middle of it all, at the center of their little coming-back-to-the-land-of-the-living circle, lay Dick Grayson, covered in blood, close to passing out.

The guy was nearly unrecognizable, but Jason would recognize that ridiculous hairstyle anywhere. Scrambling over to his brother’s side, Jason ignored the way the room spun, placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder and looking down at the man, brow pinched in concern.

“Dickie?” he asked, “Who did this to you?”

62 notes · View notes

attack-on-kiwi · 3 years

Note

LMAO what would the warriors reaction be on walking in on their s/o changing?

Reiner Braun:

All he needed was that report his s/o said they’d write up, so he’s not prepared for the sight that beholds him when he barges into their room. Half of Reiner is too dead and in despair from his entire existence to really care and just blankly stares because he thinks they look really nice, and the other half brings him to his senses when a shoe is thrown at his face and he finally registers yelling. He starts to heat up and realizes exactly what’s happening before he turns heel and slams the door before resting his back on said door and clearing his throat. He’d ask them about the report, which they slide to him from under their door. With an awkward thanks, he leaves.

Bertholdt Hoover:

Bertholdt isn’t one to barge into someone’s quarters, but he really needed to speak to his s/o. About? He couldn’t remember, because in front of him stood his s/o half naked with their leg raised to put their pants on. The two stare blankly at one another until Bertholdt starts sweating and looks around, suddenly the door knob eludes his hand which keeps smacking into the wall around it as he keeps sputtering out awkward stuttered apologies. It’s too difficult to be angry at him, so it might be better to use this as a way to tease him in the future.

Annie Leonhart:

It’s not uncommon for Annie to walk into her s/o’s quarters without waiting for an answer after she knocks the door. It’s also not uncommon for her s/o to spend an unreasonable amount of time lying in bed right after a shower instead of getting dressed. Annies thinks she’d be used to this, but it always catches her by surprise, so she’ll just throw a blanket or their clothes at them and wait for them to change before she starts to scold them for being naked out in the open. What if someone else had walked in? In reality, she’s not that upset, she’s just trying to deflect her embarrassment.

Pieck Finger:

Pieck’s not too bothered by the fact that her s/o is half dressed when she walks In on them. She simply tells them to not mind her and continues to talk to them. It’s too difficult to be upset, since she’s not making it into a big scene. She might say their skin has an uneven tan or that she never knew they had a mole on their shoulder, but aside from small teasing remarks, she just waits for them while lying on their bed. If they seem awkward at all, she’s cheekily suggest they can change together, though the topic makes no practical sense. She just want to bug them.

Porco Galliard:

Most likely to yell and back out of the area while covering his face and tripping down some stairs. Also most likely to get mad at his s/o but can’t justify it because he’s the one at fault. He doesn’t mean to cause a scene, he’s just taken by surprise, and let’s be honest, he’s never been around someone he’s intimate with long enough to see them naked, even If it’s just because they were changing. He will leave the building and probably go for a walk and then never bring it up again. If his s/o tries teasing him he will clamp their mouth shut and unsuccessfully threaten them.

Zeke Jaeger:

Zeke is bored and wants to be near someone that isn’t getting on his nerves, so his best bet is his s/o. Like normal, he’ll let himself into their quarters and make himself comfy, except this time he opens their door to find them with their back to him, lower body shifting in all its glory as they wiggle on a shirt. He can’t help but smirk and just watch them, shutting the door silently. It’s not until they turn around that they ask how long he’s been there and he won’t give a clear answer, stating life is too full of unknowns to rat himself out.

Colt Grice:

Colt never walks into his s/o’s room without notifying them, but he was tired from a day’s training and just wanted to see if they were ready to go get some dinner. Unknown to them, he walks in on them fully naked as they looked for their underwear. It takes him a moment since his brain short circuits. He simply blanks and walks right out of the room silently before leaning with his back against their wall and sliding down, hiding his emerging blush with his hands while trying to stop his mind from revisiting the memory. He wants to respect his s/o, but he can’t help but wander. That evening, his s/o wonders why he’s jumpier and more awkward than usual.

150 notes · View notes

americasmarauders · 4 years

Text

ivy--Jason ToddxFem!Reader

author’s note: once upon a time there was a tiny Luíza who thought it was a good idea to wirite a royal!au. She spent 3 months working on it, but she couldn’t make justice to the words in her head so she gave up on it. Then she watched Bridgerton and decided to give the draft another chance;

so yeah this is a royal!au. this is also my first mature work. nothing explicit just a mention of the devil’s tango.

BEWARE: minors: there is nothing explicit, but there is a mention of sex towards the end, so read it with discretion. I would classify this as a 16+

words: 11,071

the link to my masterlist is here and the link to my jason playlist is here

This was a business transaction, she kept reminding herself.

There were lives on the line, lives she had sworn to protect. It was her duty as the princess to guarantee the continuity and longevity of her bloodline and, above all else, her subjects. And the proposition presented to her guaranteed both of those.

She saw it coming. Her Father’s lavish spending sprees, buying fights with people he shouldn’t. The vault had emptied—not completely, although it wasn’t nowhere near the same state it once was—and the people had suffered. She inherited the mess.

Her kingdom, her prized kingdom, so brilliant, so beautiful, was in ruins. Because of an ego too big. She wasn't going to let that happen again.

The Wayne’s presented as the exit. The kingdom of Gotham neighbored her own, it would be convenient for them to incorporate hers. But above all else, king Bruce wasn’t looking for lands, he wanted knowledge, something her kingdom had plenty to spare.

He wanted the kingdom of scholars to be his own. He wanted to stop the gangs, the barbaric gangs that destroyed her precious land, and he needed help from her scholars. Bruce gave her a business offer too hard to refuse. But there’s always a catch.

‘She’ll marry into the family,’ he wrote in his letter to the Queen, her mother. ‘My second son, he’s the Captain of the Royal Guards, he’s the one to take my throne. She’ll be a fine Queen, and with her knowledge, Y/N will help defeat this evil lurking in our shadows’.

At first, she refused. She wanted to do it, but not at the cost of her future, not at the cost of her love. But she cooled her head. She couldn’t let her selfishness get in the way of the kingdom’s prosperity. So, she sent a letter to King Bruce. She accepted, at the condition they would do whatever it takes to preserve her tradition of knowledge. If to preserve her kingdom and give her people a relief she had to sell herself, then she would gladly do it

Gotham was nowhere near as beautiful as her kingdom. It had its charm, she could see why someone would like it, but it didn’t have the same ethereal air to it. On the contrary, it was quite gray and moody.

She guessed it went along with the family running it. The Wayne’s were famous for being an overly serious, and, quite honestly, incredibly brooding family. King Bruce adopted 6 children—and rumors went around that only one of them was biological; a bastard—and all of them had varying levels of moodiness. She was to marry the second one: Prince Jason, Prince of Park Row.

For a long time, he was the cautionary tale that was told to the children of the royal families. The Prince gone wrong, he snapped, rebelled, and, to many, he had fallen from grace. It was only a few years back he had resurfaced to the public attention as the one who was to be the next king. What happened between being the fallen Prince to being the heir was a mystery, one she wasn't sure she wanted to unveil.

She looked at the windows, seeing the tiny rock houses and the calm villagers walking around under the daylight. She knew that once the night fell, things would change and the streets would be filled with those she yearned to eradicate.

“You do not have to go through with this, my daughter,” her Mother started, once again trying to convince you of backing out of the deal. “We can find another way.”

“There isn’t,” she answered. Her Mother opened her mouth to try to argue. “Don’t, Mother. You raised me to do what was right by my kingdom and its people and continuing by ourselves isn’t the answer.”

“You are not sure about that,” Mother said, condescending in her words.

“Don’t patronize me, Mother,” she shot back, her tone controlled. “I know this isn’t the ideal situation, but our situation wasn’t ideal to begin with,” she inhaled, her gaze shifting to the window of the carriage. “If Father hadn’t been so careless, we wouldn’t be here, and I would have turned down King Bruce’s proposal.”

“I know,” Mother agreed quietly. “I feel for our loss of freedom, that’s all.”

“This isn’t a loss of freedom. This is a new beginning. This is our chance to right our wrongs. Is there more freedom than that?” she responded, putting an end to this conversation as the carriage approached the castle.

It was incredible and grandiose, far more than her family’s castle. It was fitting, she’d heard once from Elizabeth, one of the ladies in her court, that the Waynes vault was enormous. She didn’t know how she knew but seeing the castle alone she believed it.

The carriage pulled to a stop, the door opening for her exit. Mother went first accepting the help from the coachman. She got out gracefully next, and the coachman closed the door behind her. She saw two men standing approaching. The older one had an austere air to him, but as he got nearer, she saw the crinkles next to his eyes, indications of years of smiling. The younger one had mischief in his eyes, and she couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome.

“Your Majesty,” the older man bowed to her Mother. He then turned to her and bowed, “Your Highness, it is an absolute pleasure to have you in our kingdom.”

She smiled politely. “The pleasure is all mine, Sir.”

He smiled back. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth, I run the Wayne estate,” he turned once again to Mother. “Your Majesty, if you please I’ll show you to your quarters.”

“Yes, thank you, Sir Pennyworth,” Mother answered, following him into the castle.

The other man cleared his throat. “Your Highness, I’m Prince Dick, Duke of Blüdhaven,” he bowed, and she offered her hand. He kissed it politely, quickly releasing it and standing straight. “I’m the one escorting you today.”

“Thank you, Prince Dick,” she said politely.

“Shall we?” he offered his arm, and she couldn’t miss the golden glimmer of his wedding band on his hand.

“We shall,” she said, controlled.

Both of them walked calmly, as he showed her around the castle. She noticed the extravagant décor, paintings of generations of Wayne’s before adorning the walls, amongst other priceless pieces of art she was sure were worth more than the entire treasure she had in her kingdom. She quietly observed as he showed the corridor to her quarters for the month—he gracefully omitted the fact that she was marrying a stranger by the end of it and this wasn’t going to be her room any longer than that.

She heard Prince Dick sigh next to her. “I’m sorry it has come to this,” he stated. “I’m sure I can speak for my Father when I say we all wished for a different outcome.”

She offered him a tight smile. “Yes, well, I believe what we have agreed on is what’s right for both of our kingdoms,” she noted. “And while I wonder what would have been like if I didn’t come to this decision, if I may be candid, I do not regret making it.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I’m glad you do not have any regrets, Your Highness,” he said. “And I’m glad you were candid about it. I’m positive you’ll do great in our family.”

He stopped in front of a large and sturdy double door. He knocked 3 times. “The King awaits you,” he stated to her. “You shall wait here.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Highness,” she bowed slightly. “Thank you for escorting me.”

“I will not marry her, for fucks sake,” Jason growled, slamming his hands on his guardian’s imponent desk. “I will not be a fucking bargain coin for your politics, Bruce.”

Bruce didn’t even flinch with his son’s outburst. “It is your duty.”

“Shove the duty up your ass, then. I have too many things to worry about, I don’t want another.”

Bruce continued to look at the map sprawled out on his desk, “The L/N’s are incredibly smart and their kingdom holds a lot of the knowledge that we need to defeat the Joker’s gang and the others. This is very much your concern, isn’t it?”

Jason shuddered at the mention of Joker. “It is,” he said, defiant.

“Then marry her and do your job,” he stood up, leaning menacingly over the desk to look Jason in the eye. “You are the main responsible for our safety, and although I disagree with your methods, you are doing a good job. You need to start thinking of the future, Jason. This is bigger than you.”

Jason huffed in annoyance. “I know of that,” he muttered. Then he smirked and said: “But you didn’t marry and had biological kids, Bruce,” he taunted. “Why should I do it the traditional way?”

“Because I know what it’s like to not go down that path, son,” he answered, raising his voice slightly, but still composed. “I don’t want you to be like me, I want you to be better.”

Jason was speechless. He tried to mutter a word but his brain couldn’t think of any of it. “I still don't want to marry her.”

“You will, though,” his Father answered, opening his drawer and pulling the contract out of it. “And all I ask of you is to not push her away. You’ll need her, more than she’ll need you.”

Jason wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that. And he hated to admit—he and Bruce were constantly fighting over everything, especially after… after—but his Father was right. He wished it didn’t come at the cost of his liberty. He wasn’t looking for a wife. He found that it would only hold him back. But the prospect of the crown loomed in his horizon, and if he wanted to do right by his people, marrying was one of the requirements. It was too late to turn back.

Three sturdy knocks sounded. Jason quickly recomposed himself.

She had seen King Bruce once, when she was younger. Her Mother threw a gala for whatever reason and he attended. She didn’t remember seeing any of his kids there, or maybe she was too occupied with her own thoughts to notice.

She remembered him being charming and handsome. A lot of the ladies of the court wanted to marry him, but somehow none of them had managed to. She recalled the color of his eyes so vividly, not because it was beautiful—it was—but because it revealed something deeper about himself that left her guessing. She could never discover it, though. Some things are better left unsaid and unknown.

Looking at him now felt like she had entered a time machine. He had stayed the same, save a couple of wrinkles of worry—totally comprehensible for someone with his position.

She curtsied. “Your Majesty, it’s an honor to meet you once again,” she said.

“Princess Y/N, please come in,” he motioned for her to come in. She straightened up and calmly walked into the room. “I believe you haven’t acquainted yourself with Prince Jason,” he nodded towards the direction of the man standing angrily in the corner.

“No, I haven’t,” she smiled politely and turned to the man. She curtsied, “Your Highness, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She could feel him rolling his eyes, even if she couldn’t see him. “The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness,” he answered sarcastically.

She uncurled and crossed her hands in front of her body. She glanced one last time at her suitor, studying him.

He was beautiful.

Jason had the prettiest eyes she had ever seen. They were the perfect shade of blue, and she never thought there was a perfect shade of color. His hair had a streak of white, that made him look even more rugged than he already was. His hair was swept, messy in the perfect way. He was pretty in the way a bounty hunter or a thief would be, not the way a prince would. Princes were known for being pristine and soft around the edges: Jason was nothing like that.

She turned her eyes to the king. “I believe we have arrangements to make,” she said calmly.

“Yes, we do,” the king replied. He picked up a stack of papers on top of his desk. “I took the liberty of assembling a contract for the annexation,” his hand rested on top of it. “Your input will be valuable.”

King Bruce handed her the papers. “Thank you very much, your Majesty. I imagine this needs to be signed by the end of the week?”

“Yes, but I’d rather it was signed today. Forgive me for the rush, but we need your scholars’ help as soon as possible.”

“I understand,” she replied. “By the end of the day we can sign then.”

“That’s perfect, Princess Y/N. Jason, escort her to the library so she can read in peace,” Bruce commanded.

“Yes, Father,” he gritted through his teeth. She could feel his body shaking with anger and resentment and she knew she was the source of it.

He strode towards the door and flung it open for her. She curtsied to the king one last time, before turning and accompanying her suitor towards the library.

Jason’s hands were crossed behind his back, his feet heavily stomping the ground. She kept up with him, walking side by side, lifting her dress slightly.

The walk was filled with strained silence. She started to feel uneasy about the waves of anger coming off Jason, she felt the need to address it.

He stopped abruptly and opened the double door standing in front of them, revealing the most beautiful library she had ever laid eyes on. Bookshelves adorned all of the walls, from the ceiling to the floor. The stairs to the mezzanine—once again filled with full bookshelves—were of sculpted wood and she considered them pieces of art. The ceiling had the most beautiful paintings on it, and she wondered who had the patience to paint such a huge canvas. It was all breathtaking.

“Well, this is the library. If you need anything don’t hesitate on calling one of the help,” Jason said mechanically, snapping her back to reality.

“Thank you, your Highness,” she muttered, still quite perplexed at the sight. She inhaled deeply and said: “I know this situation isn’t ideal and that you might feel cornered. But, truly, I’m not here to get in your way. I just want what’s best for my people.”

Jason hummed, his anger somewhat subsiding but still very much present. “Yes, well,” he said, “I think you should get to reading that contract. Wouldn’t want to keep his Majesty waiting,” he finished, voice laced with sarcastic undertones. He turned around and left her alone with the papers.

It was late at night. The sun was long gone. Her stomach rumbled in hunger; the last thing she ate was at lunch, when she was about halfway through the papers.

It wasn’t even that long, she just wanted to be thorough. She had read every single line for what it was and all the possible meaning behind it. Kudos to King Bruce for making such a complete and meaningful contract, she had been entertained the entire day.

She rubbed her eyes, exhausted. She had managed to reorganize the contract after pulling it apart, the small piece of paper with her suggestions resting on top of it. With her hands stained with ink, she picked the papers up and headed towards the door, when it opened.

“Sir Pennyworth,” she said in surprise, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Your Highness, his Majesty has sent me to escort you to his office. I believe you’ve settled on the final details of the papers?” he announced politely.

“Yes, I did. King Bruce did a superb job on it,” she complimented. He guided the way towards the office.

“I’m afraid it wasn’t him who wrote it,” Sir Pennyworth pondered.

“No?” she replied.

“I’m sure it was Prince Tim, he’s the one with an aptitude for these endeavors,” he said.

“Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t met Prince Tim, yet. I’ll be sure to compliment him when I do.”

“He’ll be excited, your Highness,” he commented. “What did you think of Gotham so far?”

She smiled sweetly at the older man. “I haven’t seen the city yet, but I found the part I have seen completely charming,” it wasn’t completely a lie. It was charming. Just not as charming as her own kingdom. “The castle, though, I’m mesmerized by it. You have done an incredible job maintaining it, Sir Pennyworth.”

“Please, your Highness, call me Alfred. Thank you for your kind words,” he smiled warmly.

��Well, Alfred,” she stressed his name, respecting his wishes, “thank you for escorting me.”

She stopped as she saw the familiar door, holding the papers tightly. “It’s been my pleasure, your Highness,” he bowed, and left.

She knocked on the door, calmly. A muffled come in came through and she turned the doorknob. Walking in, she saw King Bruce and three of his sons gathered around a round desk in the corner, a map sprawled out. She curtsied. “Your Majesties, I’m here with the contract and my notes.”

She saw one of the Princes mouth ‘notes?’ to Prince Dick, (who shrug it off, just as confused) as Prince Jason rolled his eyes at her once more. “Please, Princess, sit down so we can further discuss it,” he motioned to his desk. “Dick, Tim, we will continue debating this tomorrow. Dick, you are dismissed. Tim, stay in case we need to change the composition.”

Both Princes furrowed their eyebrows. As Dick left the room without a word or bow—which she was sure broke some kind of protocol—Tim decided to sit on an armchair next to the table they were standing before. The door closed with a click and she sat down, the papers resting on her lap gently.

“I heard you said you have some notes on the text?” King Bruce initiated politely.

“I mean no disrespect, your Majesty. The redaction was splendid,” she complimented, “I just mean there could be a couple of points added to make it more complete.”

“Yes, yes,” he agreed, “please make your points.”

“I agreed to this proposition on the condition of preserving my kingdom’s tradition in academia. While there was a clause in page 5 that stated that clearly, I thought it would be to everyone’s benefit if it was expanded into specifics,” she handed him the contract and the notes.

He glanced over the notes, Jason reading it too, behind his Father. “I think these are all fair requests.”

She smiled. A much needed win for her kingdom. “Thank you,” she said.

“Tim, grab a pen and paper and add these to the text,” Bruce ordered. “We sign this tonight.”

Tim jumped up from his seat, quickly opening a drawer for the pen and paper, and grabbing her notes. He scribbled furiously and within minutes the new page of the contract was finished, both parties agreeing to it.

“Now, all there’s left to do is sign,” Tim announced handing a pen to Jason.

She noticed Jason’s eyes filled with something indescribable, a mix of what she assumed was anger and grief. She wished both of them had a choice, but this was bigger than both. She prayed to the stars that both could make the best of this bad situation.

He signed, handing the pen to her. Her fingers brushed for a mere second, and she felt heat rising to her cheeks. She quickly recomposed herself and swiftly signed out her name, her kingdom.

It was done. It was easier than she thought it would be. She hoped she hadn’t made the wrong decision, and there was all that was left to do.

King Bruce dismissed Tim, leaving just her and Jason in the room. “There’s the matter of the engagement ball,” he stated. “We hope to announce your engagement by the end of next week.”

“Of course,” she stated clearly. Jason only grunted.

“Should I expect both of you to be involved in the planning?” the King asked. It sounded more like an order and she knew Jason knew about that.

Jason nodded stiffly. She then turned to the King and opened a polite smile. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” she agreed.

King Bruce dismissed both of them and Jason ran out of the room.

She ran to catch up to him, his long strides almost besting her in a long gown and high heels. “Prince Jason, wait!” she shouted.

He stopped and turned. “What?”

If she was taken aback by his rudeness she was sure to not show it. “Since now it’s official, I was wondering if I could tag along to one of your strategy meetings. I might have some knowledge to share or point the way to help.”

“Aren’t you going to be too busy planning the ball?” he taunted.

“I’m perfectly capable of focusing on more than one thing,” she replied dryly. “Gotham is my kingdom now, I want it to prosper. And I want to be a part of it.”

His face didn’t leave any indications on whether or not he was to grant her permission to participate, so she was surprised when she heard him agreeing. “I’ll arrange for you to participate in one. I’ll send Alfred to tell you details,” he dismissed and turned around once again intended to walk to wherever he was headed.

“Thank you,” she shouted after him.

He hesitated before walking. He turned to her slightly and gave her a smile--and she felt like it was an honest one. He turned back and disappeared.

A gentle breeze blew as she walked down the busy streets of Gotham. Her dress—which she felt was too light for this occasion—blended in with the crowd splendidly. Jason walked beside her calmly, his hands behind his back.

His face was serene and calm, as if he was truly where he belonged. She thought it as a good quality: it meant he was empathic, not on a pedestal like most heirs. He came from the people and he would serve his people. Her heart fluttered involuntarily. She struggled to contain it.

The people of the city were quite vivacious and charming. The city in itself was gloomy and, quite honestly, a touch depressing, but the people colored the streets and made it feel almost as if the city was breathing.

“This is so different,” she said, perplexed by the movement around her. No one as they passed by her noticed who she was, or better, what she was. “They don’t care.”

Jason smiled. “No, they don’t.”

“It’s quite magical,” she concluded.

“It may be to us, but to other people,” he pointed to a couple, both very dirty and very thin sitting on the floor. They tried to get people’s attention, but they just didn’t care, “well, it can be quite awful.”

She wished she was just as cold as those other people. It would save her a whole lot of suffering but she wasn’t. People’s pains found a way to her heart and became her own. She pushed through the crowd, muttering a few ‘excuse me’s along the way. She took off the only jewelry—a necklace, so simple and delicate; it was one of her favorites—she was wearing and left it in the can the old couple had in front of them.

She knelt to be at eye level with them and said, looking at their shocked faces: “Sell it, please. It’s worth some money and you’ll be able to buy some food and clothes.”

Their faces lit up and they thanked her enthusiastically. She smiled at them before getting up and rejoining Jason and continuing her walk. He had the same shock the couple had. He offered his arm, out of politeness she was sure, and her hand rested on the crook of his elbow.

“Out of all the things I thought you would do, I—” he trailed off.

“You think so little of me,” she said. “I’m not heartless, you know?”

“I never assumed that,” he muttered.

She looked him dead in the eye. His eyes twinkled in the sunlight and once again she had to fight the fluttering feeling in her stomach. “Good.”

A few beats went by before either of them spoke again. She was the one to break the silence. “Does Gotham have any social programs to help the poor? It would greatly benefit the people,” she added kindly. “If there isn’t, I’m sure I can think of something to help.”

Jason fought to contain a smile creeping on his face. “I think His Majesty deals with this type of project. You’d have to talk to him,” he said, guiding her back to the carriage.

“I’ll discuss it with him then,” she said, impassive, her lips quirking up at the end. “Have you arranged for me to participate in the meeting?”

Jason sobered up quickly. He couldn’t show her that he found her amusing. He couldn’t be so transparent. He didn’t want a wife, he repeated to himself. He didn’t need a wife, he tried to convince himself. This girl was not for him, she was too good. “I did.”

She smiled. “Great. I’ll catch up on studies so I can understand everything.”

He hoped he had remained impassive, because he couldn’t control the plethora of feelings inside his heart. Fuck.

Jason paced in his office. Tim watched him closely, studying his brother.

“Why are you so exasperated?” Tim questioned. “I’m glad you like her, otherwise you would have led a horrible life.”

“That’s exactly my point,” Jason said, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to like her, Tim. She’s too good for me.”

“How do you know that? You’ve barely even met her,” Tim leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs.

“I just fucking know it, Tim,” he snapped, yelling at his brother. “It’s bullshit, that’s what it is. I wasn’t supposed to be in this situation, I’m not supposed to fall in love and get married and have a white picket fence life, goddammit. Look at me” he motioned to himself, looking straight into Tim’s eyes, “I’m a fucking disgrace. I’m a monster who kills people without remorse, I’m—”

“Enough with the self-pity, Jason!” Tim got up abruptly, matching Jason’s volume. Jason’s mouth promptly shut. “Stop it. You’ve wallowed in it since Bruce told you about the arrangement, I won’t allow it anymore,” he added quietly. “You know none of what you said is true, you know it,” Tim walked to his brother and rested his hands on his shoulder. “Fuck what you think, Jay. Fuck what everybody else thinks, okay? You’re already getting married to her no matter what, let yourself like her. It’s the least you could do.”

“I can’t—” Jason inhaled sharply recomposing himself. “I don’t know if I can like her the way she deserves.”

“Then try. Isn’t it what you’ve spent your life doing? Trying? Try this too. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She hates me and I have to be married for the rest of my life with someone who hates me,” he didn’t say that that was his greatest fear. That he never wanted to be like his parents, fighting and bickering and beating each other. Showing their worst to the world. Having a kid and traumatizing him to the point he’d hardly trust someone.

“So, you’d be just like another royal,” Tim tried to lighten up the mood. He noticed Jason’s somber expression and quickly sobered up. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s trying so hard to please you, to prove to you she’s a worthy addition to the family, can’t you see?”

“She’s not doing it for me,” Jason got out of Tim’s hold, turning his back to his brother.

“She may not, but she’s trying hard, when most wouldn’t even bother. That’s something, Jay,” Tim completed.

Jason didn’t complement Tim. He had enough with the talking and the convincing. Tim sighed sadly, and left the room, leaving Jason to sulk alone.

Between setting everything up for the ball, arranging the wedding ceremony, learning everything she could about Gotham recent history, and everything else she had taken upon, she was completely and utterly occupied.

It was for the better though. The more she was doing, the less she stayed inside her head, thinking about herself and letting her anxiety and doubt eat her inside. She had done the right thing, she kept reminding herself. She had done the best thing for her people, they would prosper, they would not suffer anymore.

And yet, there was always a little voice telling her that she had signed her people’s death sentence. The more she learned about Gotham, the more she read about its history and its horrors and its corruption, the more she thought she had condemned her people to a life in misery. Look at the amount of homeless, she thought, why did Gotham have so many homeless people, so many kids?

No. No. No. She wouldn’t allow herself to get nervous. She was sure in her decision, and Prince Jason had proven himself to be reliable, even if he was distant. When she asked him a favor, he did it. When she asked him a question about his lands--Park Row--he would answer it truthfully. It was more than she could have expected in an arranged marriage. Most of those ended up in misery, both parties unfaithful to their spouses. She knew Prince Jason wouldn’t seek pleasure and comfort elsewhere. She felt it.

As soon as she stopped in front of Jason’s improvised study in Gotham’s main castle, Prince Tim opened the door. She could see Jason gazing through the window, his back turned to the door.

“Princess Y/N!” Prince Tim exclaimed, surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

She saw Jason tense and turn to them. She smiled. “I have a couple of things to discuss with Prince Jason,” she explained.

Tim chuckled. “Yes, yes, of course,” he shook his head and said with an airy smile on his face. He turned to Jason and shared a look. Jason looked like he could kill his brother. Tim stepped out of the way and let her enter the room. She entered and Tim left closing the door behind him.

She stared at him. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes casting shadows over his face. But somehow, his eyes looked brighter than she had ever seen it before. She has trouble breathing and her heart beated faster inside her chest. She swallowed dryly, her hands gripping tightly the papers she carried. She curtsied to him. Follow protocol. Protocol is safe, it doesn’t make anyone nervous.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Yes, well,” she snapped out of her daze, “there’s still a few details to be decided for the ball.”

He sighed and sat on his chair, his body looking exhausted. “Can’t you decide?”

“It’s not only my ball,” she said. “I can’t decide for you, Your Highness.”

“Don’t call me Your Highness,” he muttered, annoyed. “It’s weird. We’re going to be married,” he explained. “I don’t want to have protocol in the middle of it.”

She looked down at her feet and back up at him. There went her comfort, the line she drew to not get too close. It was a business transaction after all, no need to get personal. Well, she figured, it got personal when she promised herself as a bargain coin for politics. “Yes, of course,” she whispered. “It won’t happen again,” she finished.

He sighed. He mentioned for her to sit in front of her and she sat. “We need to establish some rules before we embark in this...journey together,” he stated.

“Of course,” she agreed.

“I don’t want you to be restrained by protocols and etiquette when speaking to me,” he said softly. “We’re going to rule a kingdom together, one that just got bigger, we’re going to have to trust each other.”

“I agree,” she said, hesitant. “What is your point?”

“Call me Jason,” he said. “I never really liked my title all that much and I don’t want my future wife using it when talking to me,” he stated. It was the first time she heard him referring to her as his future wife, and he said it like it didn’t bother him. It sent butterflies to her stomach.

“Yes, you’re right,” she shook her head. Of course he was. Her parents never called each other by their titles when they were alone. “I suppose you’d want to form a friendship too?”

His mouth quirked up. “That would be preferable, yes,” he said.

“Okay, then, Jason,” she stressed his name. “Then we should start this partnership deciding which colors do you want the napkins to be.”

“Actually,” Jason started, “I have something to give you first.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I wanted to start this on the right foot,” he pulled out a little velvet box from a drawer behind the desk and walked to be beside her. “Since we’re engaged, I thought it was only appropriate to give you an engagement ring.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “You didn’t have to,” she shook her head. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

He smiled at her. “Open it,” he urged her.

She picked up the box and opened. Resting inside it, she noticed, was the prettiest ring she had ever seen. There was a single ruby, sided with two simple diamonds. It wasn’t the flashiest and biggest engagement ring she ever saw--one of the ladies of her court married a rich duke from a far away kingdom and he had given her a diamond ring that almost covered her entire finger. “It’s beautiful,” she said, staring at it.

“Allow me,” he said, picking the box, and slipping the ring on her finger. His hands lingered on hers longer than it should have. “There.”

She stared at it for a bit longer. “I have no words, Jason.”

He smirked and walked to his chair. “How about we decide the color of the napkins?”

He knew he shouldn’t have done that. He was getting involved, he was cultivating feelings for her, feelings he had refused to have just mere minutes ago when he was talking with Tim. But when he was with her, he couldn’t help it, he was just swept away by her. Suddenly, around her, Jason wanted to do everything to please her, to make her happy and satisfied.

Jason knew he was in deep shit. Jason knew he was falling for her, and he wanted, consciously, to stop that. But he couldn’t: his heart spoke louder.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

They had walked side by side the entirety of the ball. Her hand rested in a variety of places, the crook of his elbow, his hand, or the skirt of her dress. It didn’t need any saying that her favorite place for her hand to be was in his.

Nevertheless, the fluttering it sent to her stomach every time he would smile at her--albeit she knew the smile was only for show--it didn’t diminish the anger she felt at him.

They walked side by side all night, him telling a fantasious story about how they met. It was love at first sight, he’d tell. They’d met under the moonlight, a sky full of stars, he looked at her and knew she was meant for him. She wore a blue dress, according to him. She smiled at him and it was like a whole new world opened up to him, a world full of love. According to him.

The worst part was that she couldn’t say anything. Because she didn’t know anything about the lie he had constructed, what he had told other people when she was talking to his brothers while he was talking to Kings of other kingdoms. And that was what made her angry. He had reduced her, at least for the night, as a mere accessory for him.

He had been so sweet with her, so charming and loving. And then he did what he did. It could have been worse, she thought. He could have been invasive, he could have ignored her ‘no’. In that way, he was an angel. But he was still shitty with her that night. And it didn’t matter that it could have been a million times worse, Jason had reduced her to an arm candy. She still felt like an object. That would never be acceptable to her.

He took her to the dance floor, as the orchestra played a slow song.

“It was a charming story you told our guests,” she said, her voice impassive.

“I figured it would be better for them to think we’re marrying for love instead of what actually is,” he explained, his hand resting on her lower back and the other holding her hand. She ignored the feeling his touch sent through her body.

“I wish you would have told me,” she said, her voice strained. She tried to control her anger.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

“I discovered you had concocted a story for us at the same time all the others did, Jason,” she said. “And I couldn’t say anything, in risk of exposing the lie you’ve built.”

He looked at her confused for a mere second, before recognizing what he did. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t think--”

“You didn’t,” she interrupted him. “I’m not an accessory, Jason. I’m far too smart for that role,” she said. “I can’t stand by your side and smile and wave as if it’s just all I can do. I came to Gotham expecting not to be numbed by antique expectations of women of royalty. And you forced me to fit that box tonight. I hate it.”

“I’m truly sorry,” he said sincerely.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Next time you decide to lie, at least tell me what you’re planning. After all this is a partnership, we agreed on that. We can’t act behind each other's back.”

“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, squeezing the hand he was holding more tightly and bringing her closer to him. “It won’t ever happen again.”

“Good,” she nodded.

She knew he was trying to charm her with his tight hold on her. She tried to stay mad at him, tried to remain impassive, but she found that she felt safe with his arms around her like that. She broke a shy smile at him. He smiled at her too, his eyes bright with something unrecognizable.

She sat quietly in the corner, a notebook resting in her lap. Her fingers twiddled with the pen, as she listened attentively to what the council members had to say.

It was refreshing to be intellectually stimulated when she’d spent the entire week deciding dumb details about the wedding. It didn’t matter what flower arrangement the church was going to be decorated with, or which color the napkins were. She really didn’t care about it. If it were up to her she’d be married in a tiny room with no party. But it wasn’t, so she complied.

“—we need to send humanitarian help to the Bowery, the people are starving!” Lady Helena exclaimed, cutting Tim in his long rant about something overly complicated.

“We can send help after we eliminate Scarecrow!” Tim replied just as loudly. “If we send food, the gang will intercept and the situation will get worse, Helena. Don’t you get it?”

“What I get, Tim,” she said annoyed, “is that you are so entangled in your overly complicated plan to dismantle their operation that you are blind to the suffering of your people.”

Tim got up abruptly from the table, angry at Lady Helena, his fists balled up like he was going to punch her. Dick rested a hand in his brother's arms, calmly guiding him down for him to sit. Tim sat with a thud, his eyes flaming with rage, his face red.

Jason, who was awfully quiet the entire meeting, sighed and rubbed his hands on his face. He leaned forward on the table, looking defeated. “And here I thought we’d make a good first impression,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay, your Highness,” she said respectfully, thinking it would be better to use his title in front of the committee instead of his name. “In fact, I think I might have the solution to the Bowery problem.”

Tim scoffed. “Good luck with that. I’ve been trying for the past year to solve it and I’m nowhere near to the solution.”

She ignored his comment. “Anyway, I remember reading something about Scarecrow in my dad’s files. I’d need to reread to be sure, but I know there’s a safe way to provide supplies for those in need.”

Jason clasped his hands together. “Great! We’ll discuss details at the next meeting after we get those files.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather pick those up myself,” she said

“Sure, I’ll ask Alfred to arrange the trip,” he dismissed. “Well if there’s nothing else to discuss, this meeting is finished.”

The council members disbanded leaving only her and Jason in the council room.

“What did you think?” Jason asked, his voice tired.

“They mean well,” she started, “but I can see that they’re desperate for results. And desperation in these situations isn’t a good thing.”

“I know,” he sighed, his hands running through his hair. “I know, I’ve tried telling them but it never works in the long run.”

She smiled. “Good thing I know how to help,” she said.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s good that you’re here.”

He knew it was coming. He thought he was prepared for it. He thought he wouldn’t feel anything when he saw her walking down the long aisle, he hoped he wouldn’t. But when Jason saw her in her white dress, walking towards him, his heart stopped for a second and the world stopped turning.

She chose to walk down the aisle by herself. She wanted to show she wasn’t led into any decisions. She was doing this by her own accord, her own judgement. Jason thought it showed a lot of her character. She stood by her decisions and its consequences. She was strong. He admired her, more than he cared to admit.

Jason could barely remember the ceremony. He couldn’t stop looking at her, memorizing every detail of her in the light of the Gotham Cathedral, the crown she was wearing, the embroidery in her dress. But most importantly, the look in her eyes. It was everything to Jason.

He couldn’t exactly place what it was yet, but it was there and it meant more to him than he realized it ever could.

He floated through the ball after the ceremony. It was weird to call someone his wife, he never thought he would see the day he could call someone that. But Jason found that it didn’t repulse him like it would have before he met her. He was left with a tingly sensation of joy inside him.

It scared the daylight out of him.

He kept a tight grip on her, walking side by side. She was enchanting. She talked smartly with Kings of neighboring kingdoms. He heard King Clark of Metropolis commenting to Bruce how perceptive the new princess was. How intelligent she was.

Jason knew all of that, but it still didn’t stop him from being mesmerized.

“Who’s that gentleman?” she nodded towards an old man on the corner of the room.

Jason hummed looking at the man. “That’s Oswald Cobblepot. He is a part of one of the oldest families of Gotham.”

“He has been staring intensely at me for the entire ball,” she looked at Jason, whispering to him.

“Well, you are the future Queen,” he commented. “People will stare at you more.”

“No,” she shook her head, her hand resting on the crook of his elbow. He guided her through the ballroom. “This is different. He looks at me like he hates me.”

“Oh,” he said. “He has a…quarrel, if you will, with the Waynes. His family was one of the few that founded Gotham. The Cobblepots almost ruled the land, but the Waynes got the kingdom. They have hated our family since then.”

“Now that I’m a Wayne, he hates me?” she asked. “This doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, technically you’re a Todd-Wayne, but yes.”

She hummed. “He seems suspicious, Jason,” she whispered. “I think he’s planning something.”

“Cobblepot is a coward, he would never hurt you,” Jason reassured. “But he would pay for someone to do so.”

“You think he has?” a twinge of panic rising in her voice.

“He has done that before,” Jason said. “He wasn’t supposed to be invited, but Bruce insisted, and I had to dislocate more guards to the ballroom because of him.”

“Can you keep an eye on him?” she asked. “I have a bad feeling about him.”

“We always keep an eye on him, Y/N” he whispered. “He’s a criminal.”

“What?” she said, shocked. He guided her to the dance floor, as a soft song played through the room.

“We have undercover guards track him everywhere,” he stated quietly, as if no one was supposed to know. “We have to every criminal mastermind this city has ever had the pleasure to meet.”

“That’s a lot of guards then,” she commented.

“It’s a fucking nightmare,” he laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone get to you, love.”

She looked at his eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Jason.”

“I’m your husband now, Y/N. It’s my duty,” he said.

She smiled shyly at him and glanced at their feet for a second before looking back at him. “I never thought…”

He smiled at her. “What?”

She shook her head, smiling at him, completely lost for words. “Nevermind.”

He sighed and tightened his hold on her. “I didn’t say this yet, but you look breathtaking today,” he stated, clearly.

“You look beautiful too,” she replied.

He gaped at her, like he wasn’t expecting the compliment. He quickly recomposed himself. “Well, I guess we make a breathtakingly beautiful couple then,” he joked.

“I guess we do,” she looked deeply into his eyes, smiling softly. Her eyes glinted with something different, something familiar and warm. But something he couldn’t quite name yet.

He found that he looked forward to the day when he could.

She had dismissed the maid that would help her get rid of the dress. She was too nervous to deal with anyone else. She paced in front of her vanity, waiting for Jason to come in their room.

It was so weird to think that now there was a ‘they’. They were a couple, they were a unit. It was a first for her, and she hadn’t had the time to think about it until all of the whirlwind of the wedding had passed.

“I thought you would have been out of that uncomfortable dress by now,” she heard him. She turned to see him. His shirt was unbuttoned, his tie hanging untied on his neck. He carried his jacket over his shoulder. He looked relaxed and comfortable, and she got even more nervous looking at him.

“I was nervous so I sent Claire away,” she shrugged.

He took a step in her direction. “What are you nervous about?”

She sighed and pressed her hands together over the skirt of her dress. “About us,” she whispered. “I didn’t think of the after. I didn’t have the time.”

He smiled and took another step towards her, finally close enough to her. She could see perfectly the sincerity in his eyes. She could see the scar above his eyebrow and the tiny freckles on his nose. “You don’t have to be nervous about anything,” he reassured her. “I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

“It’s not only that,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve never done this before. This…” she hesitated, “partnership. I know things are different for men.”

“I don’t see how,” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“You know how,” she snapped. “Men are praised for their sexual endeavours. Women are expected to remain pure until marriage,” she explained calmly. “And it’s not fair to either of us, you have an unfair advantage over me and I--,” she stopped herself.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can say it, I won’t be hurt.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know how to do this, Jason,” she admitted. “I’ve never even been kissed before.”

He smirked. “That’s easy to resolve,” he stated. His hands cradled her face and he leaned in, stopping just before their lips met. “If you want, of course,” he whispered, his breath mixing with hers.

Her breath got caught up in her throat. She wasn’t expecting him to be that direct. She thought he would seduce her first, like in the romance novel she had read. She’d rather his directness. “Yes,” she whispered.

He smirked and clashed his lips with hers. She closed her eyes and grabbed his shoulders tightly. His lips were surprisingly soft on hers, and she wondered what would happen if he decided to kiss with more passion instead of holding back.

She decided to, then, take the first step towards that direction. Her hands moved to his hair and she brought his lips closer to hers--which she thought it was impossible. She responded with more passion and more eagerness and he was shocked for a second before complying.

One of his hands moved to her waist and pressed her body closer to his. She opened her mouth just a little and his tongue licked her lips, entering her mouth slightly. She felt a wave of heat invade her, and she let it in pleasurably. His mouth started to make way down her neck, his fingers on her back, fumbling with the buttons of her dress.

She felt panicked at the intimacy of the act and tensed. Jason felt her nervousness and stopped. “We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to,” he whispered.

“It’s too much,” she replied, her voice strained. “It’s not you, Jay, I’m just not ready.”

He cradled her head, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’d wait forever for you,” he said. “I can wait until you’re ready.”

She gave him a shy smile. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now, let me undo those buttons and get some sleep,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

The carriage shook as they rode through the country towards her kingdom. She looked out of the tiny window at the horizon, admiring the view.

“Did you miss home?” Jason asked.

She looked at him. “I did miss my Mother, and my friends,” she said, “But I don’t know if it’s my home anymore.”

“What is home then?” he asked, curious.

She searched in his eyes any indication of his intentions with that question. She found nothing but admiration and warmth and--if she’d be so bold--love. “I’m not sure yet,” she said. “When I found out, I’ll tell you.”

“Please do, I’d like to visit that place,” he laughed.

Now that they were officially married, they had moved back to Jason’s residence in Park Row. They were almost completely disconnected from the Wayne Castle in the outskirts of the city. Park Row was in a part of the city called Old Gotham, some would say it’s the heart of the city, right in the center, the most populous part. Others would say it’s the cancer of the mechanism of the town, littered with homeless and thieves.

Jason was born in Park Row. His parents were simple people. He didn’t give her much detail on who they were, and she could feel it hurt to talk about that subject so she didn’t push him to say anything. All he would tell was that his Father died first, and he was left as a child to help his sick Mother and him survive.

He became a pickpocket at age 8. His Mother died when he was 9. He lived on the streets up until he was 13. That was when King Bruce found him and took him in. Jason said he was trying to steal one of the wheels of his carriage when Bruce arrived and offered him shelter and food. Next day, he was already adopted and enrolled in classes. Next day he became a prince. She wondered what it was like for him to have gone through such a radical change in the span of a day.

He disappeared when he was 17. He was especially cagey about his time away. No matter what questions she asked he wouldn’t answer any of them. She wanted to attribute it to mystique, but she knew it was because of trauma.

When he came back he was a changed man, a stronger one, a more traumatised one. That was when he started to disagree with his Father more. He would question the methods Bruce would use in his hunt for justice in Gotham. He would question everything Bruce did, in Jason’s exact words. He didn’t detail anything and she started to notice a trend in his behavior: when something hurt him too deeply, he would barely talk about it.

Next thing he knew, he agreed to be the heir, he accepted the role his older brother left for him. He said it was because he knew better than any of his siblings how it was to be on the streets and suffer like most in Gotham. He would do better by them, and she believed in him. Wholeheartedly.

“So, what’s the plan of attack here?” he asked.

“We go in, say hello to my Mother and go to my Father’s study and look for the files,” she said. “It’s a dangerous mission, be careful,” she joked.

“We should have called for backup,” he said, seriously, embarking on her joke. “Maybe 1,000 soldiers would have sufficed.”

“More like 10,000,” she laughed. “Seriously, we’ll just spend the afternoon going through dusty paperwork,” she said. “It’s going to be quite boring.”

He smiled. “Nothing’s boring with you,” he stated.

She smiled back. “I quite disagree, but I appreciate the compliment.”

The carriage halted to a stop. Jason opened the door for her and offered his hand for her to come down the steps. She accepted it and stood proudly by his side. He offered his arm and she took it. He led her towards the staircase that led to the main entrance of her castle. She could see her Mother standing there waiting for her.

She had her problems with her Mother, but she still loved her. She left Jason’s hold and ran up the stairs to meet her Mother. She panted when she finally got up the stairs, but nevertheless, she held her Mother in a tight embrace. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

“You shouldn’t have run,” her Mother said in her ear, her voice humorous. “What would Prince Jason think?”

“Jason would think I love my Mother and I’ve missed her,” she stated. “How have you been?” she said, breaking the hug.

“I’ve been okay,” Mother answered. She looked behind her daughter and her expression became impassive. “Your Highness,” her Mother said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Jason smiled at her mother. “The pleasure is all mine.”

She smiled at her husband and at her Mother. “Shall we get inside?”she suggested. “Jason and I have to go through Father’s files.”

“Oh, those things?” her Mother said. “Good luck, I know he left those completely disorganized.”

“I remember,” she muttered. “It’s going to be a nightmare,” she said to Jason.

“I don’t mind,” Jason stated. “We can spend as long as we want here,” he gripped her hand. “This is important for us back in Gotham, it’s important to be thorough.”

“Well,” her Mother started, “I’ll leave you two to work then. I’ll send in some tea for you.”

“Thank you Mother,” she said, watching her Mother disappear into the corridor. She turned to Jason and smiled. “Shall we?”

He bowed slightly and said: “Lead the way, My Lady.”

She smiled and started getting up the stairs, Jason right beside her.

It was charming how much Jason’s behavior towards her had changed so much in a relatively small amount of time. When she had first met him, she feared a loveless marriage, with a husband cold towards her. But, slowly--or as slow as it felt--he had shifted. He started being less sarcastic and more truthful. He would still make sarcastic remarks, but never directed towards her. Jason started being soft and understanding. It was weird to think of a man so big and rough as him as soft and gentle, but it was how she saw him.

She knew he had his insecurities. He had told her once. He had told her he was reluctant to trust her, that he thought he didn’t deserve her. She said he was selling himself short. He replied that she didn’t know most things that he had done. She thought that it didn’t matter because she was falling in love with him.

Love. What a strange feeling. What an overwhelmingly dangerous feeling. It had changed her entire view of the world. She was much more willing to happiness, to the tiny beautiful things of the world. She saw things colored pink. She knew this effect would pass, but she would enjoy it while she could.

She felt his hand brush hers. She looked down at their hands, barely touching and then looked at him with a smile. He looked forward, his face impassive, like he had no idea what he was doing. She held his hand and he squeezed it. Her mouth quirked up slightly.

She led him right to a giant double door. She released his hand and opened the door, revealing her Father’s office.

It was considerably smaller than King Bruce’s office, but it still held an air of authority. Behind the main desk there was a big window that had a view of the castle entrance. Both side walls were bookcases, from the ceiling to the ground. In the middle of the room was the King’s desk, untouched.

“Nobody has come in here since he died,” she said quietly. “Except me.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he replied.

“It’s fine, it’s been a long time,” she sniffed. “I just miss him.”

Jason remained quiet, examining the room. “Anyways,” she said. “I’ll get those files, and we’ll start looking.”

She pulled a book in the middle of a bookcase. The bookcase retreated and it revealed a big safe. She opened the safe and revealed piles and piles of papers, untouched for years. “Will you help me?” she asked, picking a pile.

He picked up another big pile. He rested it on the floor. “We can pick more up after we go through these,” she said, sitting on the floor. “We’ll be entertained for a while.”

They spent hours reading. She started a system to organize the files into topics. Those that treated about economic affairs were separated into one corner of the room, those of the political affairs into the other. The political affairs were separated into topics: internal politics, external, and finally security. Those were the ones they had to nitpick through. She catalogued it in criminals: Penguin, Riddler, Two-Face, Scarecrow, the lot.

She had through those files at least once in her life. It was interesting to read through once, and she could see Jason was fascinated about the operations her Father had led once. But she found it a bit boring, like she had predicted. Nevertheless she persisted. It was more important than her entertainment.

“Y/N” he called for her, “look at this.”

She got up from the ground and walked towards him. She had discarded her shoes long ago and was almost tempted to change into some pants. “Yes?” she asked.

“Is this the file you talked about?” He gave her the document.

She scanned through the document. It detailed how they had managed to successfully cut off supplies for the fabrication of the fear gas in her kingdom and how, with that, they had managed to ban Scarecrow from there. “It is,” she said. “I can’t believe you found it, I thought we would spend another day looking for it.”

“We already did that,” he said. “We already tried stopping the production of the gas, we discovered an antidote for it, it didn’t stop Crane.”

She smiled. “It’s not only that,” she explained, turning her back and going to the internal affairs pile. “You can’t stop only Crane, you have to redirect his soldiers to a more positive occupation,” she found the file and gave it to him. “See?”

He read through the document quickly. “But we have social programs in Gotham, it still--”

“You have and those social programs are great,” she said. “But it’s not enough for you to take care of the children and the homeless, you have to take care of the poor, those who struggle to get a job and do whatever it takes to not be helped by those social programs.

“You have to direct those men and women to better jobs, give them better chances, educate them and then you’ll defeat Scarecrow fully,” she finished

“Because then they’ll know better than to join him,” he whispered. “It’s brilliant.”

“It’s how you stop them,” she smiled and sat on his lap. “This is the beginning of the end, Jason. We’re on the right path.”

“How didn’t we think of it?” he asked himself. Her hands found his cheeks, caressing it gently.

“You were too focused on the short term solution, and it’s okay,” she assured. “Now, you can do better.”

“I will,” he looked into her eyes and he said. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, confused.

“For everything,” he whispered. “For agreeing to give up being the sole sovereign of a land to joining Gotham and be its Queen, for being so wonderfully smart, for being patient with me for umm--”

She interrupted him, kissing him with passion. She stopped the kiss and rested her forehead on his. “You don’t need to thank me, Jay,” she said. “I’m doing what’s right.”

“For that I love you,” he responded. She tensed at those words. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to--”

“I love you,” she said. “I love you,” she kissed him with a passion.

“Is it too soon?” he mumbled on her lips. “Is it too soon to say that we love each other?”

“I feel like I’ve waited all my life for you,” she mumbled back. “So, no.”

“Great,” he whispered.

Then he kissed her like his life depended on it. His kiss was filled with a fiery passion she had never felt before. Granted she hadn’t kissed much in her life, but nevertheless this was a new first for her.

His tongue made an entrance in her mouth and she felt a fire run through her. She returned his passion, gripping the base of his hair. He moaned against her mouth, bringing her closer to him. He gripped her waist with determination as his lips moved swiftly against hers.

He tilted her head upwards and his mouth kissed its way to her neck. She hummed and as he bit a sensitive part of her skin. “Jay,” she moaned.

“If you want me to stop, I will,” he replied, his mouth still on her neck pecking where he had just bitten.

“Don’t stop,” she said.

“You shall have your wish, then, My Princess,” he smirked and kissed the corner of her mouth.

She got impatient and grabbed his face, smashing his lips on hers. She kept on kissing him, running her hands through his hair. He fumbled with the buttons of her dress and she didn’t feel like tensing and running away. She wanted him to continue to fumble with the buttons, she wanted him to open those buttons and take off her dress.

“Jason,” she mumbled.

He hummed in response, his lips leaving hers. He kissed all over her face and she giggled delighted.

“How about we take this elsewhere?” she suggested, trying to be seductive.

He smirked and looked at her softly. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” she affirmed. “I’m ready.”

He smiled and kissed her lovingly. “I love you,” he whispered, he got up and started carrying her towards the door of the office. He couldn’t stop kissing her even if he tried.

“No!” she exclaimed. “There’s a secret bedroom next to here.”

“Is this castle full of secret passages?” he mumbled, his lips trying to find hers like a magnet.

“Yes,” she breathed out. “Pull that book,” she pointed to a book in the top corner of the last shelf of the last bookcase.

He pulled the book and the bookcase retreated revealing a simple wooden door. He opened it and it revealed a King’s bedroom.

“My Father slept here after he pulled all nighters,” she kissed his neck gently. “After he got sick he barely came into the office so it’s been unused for years.”

He smiled and lifted her chin. He looked in her eyes lovingly. “Are you really sure?” he asked once again. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“How can I, Jason?” she said. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

He smiled at her. He closed the door behind him and they laid together.

To think one day he had questioned how he could want a wife. He hadn’t met her before. He hadn’t known he was destined to meet such a wonderful person, determined and strong. He hadn’t known he was meant to love her.

He had been too naïve to think he wouldn’t need her. He needed her more than he needed air, water, food. And he knew she needed him. It was a partnership after all. They needed each other, they trusted each other, and they loved each other.

author’s note: don’t forget to reblog if you’ve liked to make sure more people see it. also, the link to my jason playlist is here

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #Jason Todd #red hood x reader #Red Hood X y/n #red hood #royal!au #prince!jason #king!bruce #princess!reader #my masterlist #royalty!jason todd #royal!jason todd

241 notes · View notes

cheekygreenty · 3 years

Text

Little Witch - Part 20

The Darkling x Reader

He carried you to your bed that night, gently slipping off your kefta and taking out the uncomfortable hairpin in your hair while you slept like a baby.

Zoya had barged into his office earlier and mentioned that you were swarmed with duties so naturally he did was had to be done and took it all on himself for that day. Your door felt no vibrations from knocks after Zoya left and the 'accidental dozing off' turned into your full night sleep with Aleksander by your side yet again.

You were furious as you woke up, to say the least. Your enraged muttering breaking Aleksander's sleep as you whipped out from under his arm and out the bed. You only dared to shoot him a look of displeasure before you slammed the door shut as you left. He barely registered your body running around the room, nevermind the nasty gaze sent his way

'Good morning to you too'

****

'Is everything in order?' You were still fixing the kefta belt as you approached the head of guards.

'Yes Deputy. We've been letting performers in for about an hour now and it's all going smoothly.'

'No requests to see the Sun-Summoner?'

'Plenty, but we've taken care of them just as Zoya Nazyalensky told us to.' He curtly nodded, tilting his head in the way of the prison-holding cells.

'I'm glad to hear that.'

As you went to see how Marie's kefta was coming along, you found the room empty and her nowhere to be found, the seamstress looking equally as confused as she entered the bare room. You caught Genya heading for the Vezda suit out of the corner of your eye and called her name loudly.

'Marie is late to her kefta fitting, like very late. Do you have any idea where she is?'

'I think she may be with Alina, I'll be sure to fetch her' she said and waltzed away from you.

'Genya wait!'

'Yes?'

'When you get Ms.Starkov ready, give her this ring' You dug around in your pocket for the metal ring and handed it to the red-haired Tailor. 'Make sure she's wearing it.'

'Of course Deputy.'

You watched her white kefta diminish behind the doors and sighed loudly, going down the mental to-do list of the morning. I'm already tired.

*****

'Have you seen the Deputy?' Aleksander asked Ivan as they headed for his chambers.

'Last I seen she was helping conduct perimeter checks with Fedyor.'

'Good.' He wanted to see you in your winter fete kefta, silently hoping you chose to keep with the black but he knew he was being greedy. He can't have both you and Alina.

'Get her for me, I need to speak to her.' Ivan nodded and turned back around in search of you, clearly displeased at the task.

Putting his lust for you away, Aleksander returned to a working state of mind. He needed to speak to you before the fete started. It was essential you heard what he had heard from the Grand Palace.

He retreated to his chambers and began to get ready for the fete until a certain someone entered the room unannounced.

***

'Deputy Y/L/N, the General wishes to speak to you.' Ivan was at your door with a glum look on his face as a team of ladies tended to your hair and face.

'Now?' You laughed but he only shrugged. You rolled your eyes and signaled for them to finish what they were doing and let you leave.

The ladies frowned but stepped away, clearly dissatisfied. Not only did they get a late start due to you chasing Alina and Genya down on the Palace courtyard, but now they had to finish early too. You had yet to change out of your kefta and into the fete's outfit but for now, you ignored your appearance.

All that mattered to you was that the evening went smoothly and without security threats and if the General requested to see you, you would be there to discuss whatever had gone wrong. This is Ravka after all, something always goes wrong.

'I'm coming, relax your frown for once.' You joined him at the door and walked silently alongside him to the Darkling's quarters. The Palace was buzzing with life as foreign ambassadors took up residence in the rooms and servants prepared the spaces with brimming luxury. Ravka needed to display its strength and wealth today and if it meant meticulously counting the fresh roses in each room, that was what was had to be done.

Although your demeanor showed a relaxed and posed facade, you were very stressed. You hadn’t gotten enough sleep recently and given your extreme training schedule before you arrived at the Palace, the amount of time you spent using them now, or lack thereof, had managed to dwindle you mentally. You were hanging on by a mere thread.

Ivan knocked on the door for you before moving away to the side. You didn't wait for his response and just walked in but stopped short when you looked ahead. The Sun-Summoner you had scolded not even 30 minutes ago was standing in his quarters, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He stood next to her looking equally as red-handed. Realization flooded you that you had interrupted an intimate moment between the two summoners. You cleared your throat, trying your best to act normal.

'You requested to see me, General.' His head tipped up at your collected demeanor, wondering whether you felt the tension too.

'Yes, I did' He moved around to the table, walking past Alina who decided it would be best she left and got ready. You smiled at her as she left, muttering some pleasantry about seeing her at the fete but deep inside the jealousy began boiling in you despite your attempts to rationalize it.

'Y/N -'

'Let's not talk about it. Please.' Your voice was a whisper, a strong contrast to the voice Alina heard. 'I agreed to the plan, I have no right to argue with you.' You feebly smiled. His stare was pitiful on you but he did as you asked.

'I need you to speak to the Queen when she arrives at the Little Palace.'

'Why?' Your face contorted into an expression of confusion and disgust, quickly forgetting about what just happened.

'My intel tells me she is in awe of you. Genya overheard her speaking to one of her aids about you and a possible position for you in the Grand Palace'

Your eyes widened at his words. You had been tolerating the Queen like a toddler, giving into her whims and tantrums in hopes of her staying calm, not in hopes of being whisked away to work for the crown.

'Are you serious?'

'Yes'

'Saints' The weird headache was back, settling into the back of your head like a dull drum.

'Listen to what she has to say'

'Do you think I would accept whatever she has to offer? You'd be a fool to assume I would even consider it.' He turned away from you, displeasure obvious on his face.

'I just ask that you entertain her. And would it really be so bad? Whatever it may be, it would aid our course substantially-'

'All I ever wanted and needed were my Grisha, Aleksander. That's why I came back, not for the Lantsov Crown.'

'I'm not forcing you into anything Y/N. Just listen to her.' His voice was soft and gentle like he was lulling you down from an outburst but you knew he was plotting, taking every advantage he could grasp.

'Alright.' you sighed, still processing all the information at once. The Queen, The Fete, The Grand Palace, Alina, and Aleksander. It was clouding your mind like a fog. 'I should go get ready' Your mind was bursting at the seams with thoughts and speculations, you needed to have some alone time and you prayed to the Saints 20 minutes would be enough to put yourself at ease.

He reached out for you but you were already moving to leave, leaving him hanging in his chambers with a look of sorrow on his face.

Your feet dragged you to your chambers with little energy but much heaviness. The Summoner blue gown and kefta hanging on the door were glued to your gaze as you debated even going to the fete.

Within a span of 10 minutes, Aleksander had somehow managed to overwhelm you to the point of a lingering breakdown. You weren't sad or angry or jealous, you were overwhelmed, your mind was blank yet full and it made you want to cry. The stress of the last couple of days did not help either.

But alas you got yourself together, wiping the lone tears away and putting on your fete attire. It was heavy and comforting, like an armor ready to be destroyed as you entered the battlefield. The foreign diplomats were to meet you today and bring word back to their home countries about the Witch, the Deputy Commander of Ravka's Grisha Army and you would look the part too.

You held your head high and radiated the most powerful energy you could muster while you walked to the makeshift throne room before the official start of the fete. She was sitting there next to the King looking every part of a Lantsov Queen.

The crown settled on her head nicely and looked to be of perfect fit as you approached her, curtseying and making pleasant conversation. It was draining to listen to her empty stories in anticipation of what you knew was coming. In a shocking reality however, you had no idea what she was really thinking and neither did Aleksander, or Genya, or anybody.

It wasn't until she grabbed your wrist tight in her hold and made you kneel next to her in the empty room did you freeze and crumble beneath her. The King was watching eagerly with his head held high and a smirk on his face. In that moment all you were was their subject and she was the Queen, commanding a commander. You were no General, or Grisha, or high ranking officer. You were simply a girl who held their eyes for too long. A girl who was not simple but regal.

It was nothing short of debilitating. The facade crumbling and crashing to the ground with silent thuds while the words stuck in your head like a pulsing bee sting.

'We wish for you to marry my son, my dear Nikolai'

--------

Part 21

Shockerrrrr I know but don’t worry for those who haven’t read the novels, I will not be introducing Nikolai as a character. Maybe I will when I decide to move this to AO3 but not as of right now.

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb @grisha-of-shadow-bone @rosiethefairy

133 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

In Name Only - Part 13

A/N: So...things are good for Oberyn and his Sunshine, right? They’re finally like a real married couple, and in love! Nothing to worry about now...Enjoy 💕 As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: None

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-«

It was the warmth of the light and the soft chirping of birds that stirred you from your slumber the next morning. Your eyes slowly opened as you stretched and rolled onto your side, expecting to find Oberyn next to you. Much to your chagrin, the bed was empty, and only a small strip of parchment met your hand.

Sighing lightly, you grabbed the parchment and read the elegantly scrawled note from your husband, finding it both endearing and apologetic; he’d been summoned for an early morning ride and had agreed to go more out of duty than anything else, but that he would make it up to you later.

Your face warmed at the mere thought of the promise as images of last night flooded your mind. Your first time with Oberyn had been worth the wait, despite the lingering soreness between your legs, and the marks you could and couldn’t see. You boasted them proudly.

You slipped out of the bed, still naked as the evening before, taking some of the water that had been left for you and heating it up on the small fire, deciding to take a quick bath before making an appearance. Once you were satisfied with the warmth, you slipped in some perfumed oils before getting in yourself. A small contented sound left your lips as you slipped under the water and let it envelope you completely, just as Oberyn had done the night before. Slowly washing your spent body, you couldn’t help the feeling that settled within you; you were happy - truly happy. It was a feeling you hoped that would never disappear.

Getting out of the water only once it ran cold, you dried yourself off before going to select a dress, wondering if you should opt for something that was more modest and covered, or if you should even bother with worrying. Deciding to settle in the middle, you pulled out a honeyed, golden gown, that was covered just enough to be appropriate, but still made you feel light and airy.

After you finished getting ready for the day, you left your temporary lodging quarters and made your way through the castle and to the dining hall to see if anyone was still there. People were bustling about their days, chattering excitedly, but making it a point to stop and greet you. It was nice, this ever present and welcoming atmosphere and you couldn’t help but wish this was how it had been throughout your childhood. If everyone was this good and kind, the world would have been a much better place.

When you entered the sunny, warm hall, you found Lady Dayne sitting there, a book perched in front of her as she leisurely broke her fast. A few people you had yet to meet were mucking about the hall offering you small smiles to which you responded with an even bigger smile. Walking over to Eleonora you sat down beside her, prompting her to close the book and give you her attention. She had a kind face, even if she appeared to be somewhat shy, you hadn’t received any odd feelings from her.

“Good morning, Lady Martell,” she said as she waved someone over to bring you some breakfast. You caught her eyes flicking to your neck for the briefest of moments before you cleared your throat and looked away. She giggled lightly before nudging your leg with hers, “there is no shame in pleasure - you mustn’t hide it.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed with a wicked little smirk as you straightened up and relaxed slightly. A plate of fine looking foods was quickly placed in front of you, topped off with plenty of fresh fruit, much to your delight. As you reached for the pitcher of fresh juice, you were quickly stopped when a steaming cup of tea was placed next to you instead. You pulled your hand back and looked at it curiously, trying to identify what kind it was. You picked up the cup and smelled the liquid, finding it to be a mostly herbal concoction.

“Moon tea,” the young woman on your side quickly as you let the cup back down in haste. While you’d never had any, or even seen any in person before, you knew exactly what it was.

“I-I don’t understand,” you shook your head and gave her a confused look, “w-why?”

“Come on, silly girl. We both know what moon tea is for,” she stated as if it was obvious, pushing the cup closer to you, “you don’t want to end up with child, do you?”

A million thoughts raced through your mind at once, as you tried to figure out where to even start to unwrap this mystery. You looked back at her with wide eyes, opening and closing your mouth a few times, “what do you mean? I was with my husband...there’s no need.”

“Oh, you are a naive, sweet thing, aren’t you?” suddenly you realized that the girl you had met the evening before was far from an innocent, shy woman. She was quiet, but clever and cunning, “sure you were with your husband but do you really want a child by him? Do you trust him?”

“I-I don’t understand,” you frowned at the tea as a bit of fire sparked in your blood.

“Your husband is the male equivalent of a whore,” she proclaimed and you almost choked on the berries you were eating. It was a bold accusation, a bold statement coming from one for your husband’s allies, a bold accusation to make to his wife.

“You dare to-”

“Why are you acting like it is some sort of surprise?” she found it almost laughable, “everyone knows that the Prince sleeps with whoever he pleases. How do you think he ended up with eight bastard children? And if you didn’t know...then you must be more gullible than any could imagine.”

“That’s not...that’s not true,” you insisted meekly, trying to gather up that confidence and courage that your father had always instilled in you, but finding it difficult. Of course you knew the rumors, the whispers, and of course you knew they were true. Oberyn had told you the same, and had always been open and honest about it - but that had been before...before the two of you were married. The fact that she had brought his girls into it, the girls that you already loved and adored, made it sting even harder, “n-not anymore.”

She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, looking at you with an almost pitying smile on her face as she made a small hmm. She remained silent for a moment, drinking her own cup of tea that had been placed before her. Her eyes were on you the entire time as she downed it in one go, “what? Do you think I want children by a random man? Of course not. If I am to have a child it must be a true heir that no one can question. That will happen one day, but until then, I will have my fun.”

“That sounds like no marriage at all,” you said quietly, “to be sneaking around behind each other’s backs.”

“You are foolish,” she admitted, “that is exactly what a marriage is. It’s a game of give and take, not love. I was from the North once too - I thought you’d be smarter. That you’d understand what this is. My husband does not work to pleasure me, nor do I waste my time with him. We were married for convenience and to produce heirs. Do not mistake your duty for your desires. Love is not something that exists in this world. It’s a falsehood to keep you quelled when you are a child.”

“I did not...my marriage isn’t like yours,” you told her, but you were suddenly wondering...what if it was, but you weren’t privy to it? But...no. You shook your held to yourself and gave her a stern look, “I love my husband, and that entails all of him - his children, his family, him. And h-he loves me. I know he does...”

“Hmm,” she mused softly, the tension in the air was thick and palpable, “do you truly believe that? His left his whore of many years suddenly-”

“Her name is Ellaria, and she was never his whore,” you almost slammed your first on the table as you glared at her. You were liking her less and less with each passing second, “she was his equal, just like I am. And besides all of that, she was the one who ended things with him. Don’t you dare speak ill of her.”

“Whatever the story is,” she decided to pointedly ignore your little outburst, “they’re no longer together. And he found solace in you, you were a mere happenstance of perfect timing and need. How long will it be before he grows tired of you? The little Northern girl who knows nothing about anything? What then? He’ll toss you to the side, leave you with a babe you don’t want, while he goes on and does whatever he wants.”

“That won’t....he would never do such a thing,” you insisted firmly, feeling tears well up in your eyes at her accusations. They made you feel silly and dumb, like nothing more than a little girl, but you knew they couldn’t be true...they weren’t true. He loved you and you loved him, and that wasn’t going to change.

“I’m sure that’s what Ellaria Sand thought too,” she shrugged, pulling her back towards her. You felt a single tear run down your cheeks as you stared down at your plate, “all men are the same. They want one thing - once they get it, they will be satisfied for some time. And then? They go right back to how they were. It’s not your fault, not anyone’s fault, it’s just the nature of the beast, so do not take it personally. Once you are no longer shiny and new and young and pretty, you’ll be set to the side like so many others. It’s better to prepare yourself for that reality now.”

You remained silent, refusing to acknowledge her, your whole body feeling it was trembling with anger. She was bold in her words, and if you made enough of a deal out of it, you could easily have her in a world of trouble. Who dared to speak to the Prince’s wife in such a manner?

But before either of you could say another word, a handmaid came and called her. Eleonora stood up and brushed off her skirts, flouncing by you with a small squeeze of your shoulder. You wanted to hate her, to think her evil, but a part of you couldn’t. This was how she was raised, what was instilled in her from childhood. Perhaps you’d be the same if that had been how you were treated for years. But it wasn’t and your marriage wasn’t anything like hers. You remained there silently for a few moments, collecting yourself as you pushed away the plate still filed with food, having lost your appetite.

The small cup of tea was still staring back at you, almost if silently taunting you. Suddenly, in spite of your belief that you couldn't have a child, and that if you ever had a child it would be your husband’s, one that he would love, you grabbed the tea and quickly drank it all. It settled into your stomach, leaving you with an odd feeling as you sat there and tried not to cry.

»»————-　♡　————-«

Once you realized you were felt to your own devices, you decided to explore the grounds and gardens of Starfall, after they came highly recommended by some of the people who worked on them on a daily basis. You’d waited around for Oberyn for some time, but then he never made a return, and while a small part of you wondered if he was okay, you knew he’d be fine. But you couldn’t deny that the words from earlier were still floating around in your mind. You had no rational reason to believe she was right, but you also couldn’t help but wonder…

What if...what if you were just a shiny, pretty plaything for Oberyn until he got his fill of you and then left you by the wayside?

He’d never even given you an ounce of worry that would happen. He was the one that told you that you needn’t be his wife if you had no such desire. He told you he loved you...he had meant it. You knew he had meant it.

Groaning at yourself for getting so caught up in the folly of a woman who was no doubt disillusioned with life and bitter at her fate, you left the grounds and started heading for the waterfall you spotted upon your arrival the previous day.

It was peaceful here, more temperate than the rest of Dorne, with more green and cooler temperatures. You never thought you’d see this much green and plush foliage outside of the Reach. Taking the beaten path, you wandered in search of the waterfall, hoping you wouldn’t get too lost...surely if you did, someone would come looking for you...they had to. You hoped.

Pushing your silly worries to the back of your mind, you carried on, stepping over fallen leaves and branches, listening to the sound of all the wildlife around you. It was almost serene and a welcoming change from your morning. The sound of rushing water reaching your ears and you were pleased to find out that you had taken the correct way to get to the rushing water. You were almost here until you were stopped dead in your tracks by the sound of a branch snapping and your name being called out softly.

Your heart raced, immediately feeling like it was going to burst at the sudden intrusion. It was a voice you did not recognize, and you definitely would have noticed someone following you all the way from the castle. Swallowing thickly, you turned on your heel and looked around to find the source. Your eyes landed on a young woman, with wild, long black hair, and dark copper skin, wearing a blood red dress staring directly at you. You’d never seen her before but somehow she knew your name…

“Who are you?” you asked as you took a step closer to her, despite your mind telling you to stay away, “how do you know my name?”

“I know everything,” she said softly, her voice soft, but accented similarly to Oberyn, “I know your past, present, and future, Lady Beesbury...or perhaps you prefer Martell these days?”

“W-who are you?” you asked as she took a step closer to you and you could make out her beauty in the lowlight. She appeared almost ethereal as she watched you with interest, “are you following me?”

“It does not matter who I am,” she insisted sweetly, “I am not following you. You walked into the wood, this wood, where I happened to be. Just like you were meant to.”

“Meant to?” you stammered, getting more nervous with each passing second. She didn’t seem threatening, although neither had Eleonora earlier, and that turned out to be quite an ordeal, “I don’t understand.”

“I can sense that you have many questions,” she walked over to you and you didn’t stop. She took you in, her hand taking your chin gently as she studied your face. When you looked closer at her face, you saw that her eyes were milky, and almost completely clouded over. She leaned in close and inhaled your scent as you stood there, wondering what she was possibly going to do, “sweet, innocent, young Lady Martell, formerly of a great house that shamed her for everything she was, married into an even greater house that sees everything she can and will be. So full of hope and great expectations.”

“You’re blind,” you managed to stammer out as she released her hold on you, “h-how can you see me? How do you know? How could you possibly know all of this?”

“I cannot see,” she pointed at her eyes, “but I can see everything.”

“A soothsayer,” you concluded as a small grin tugged on her features.

“Of sorts. They’ve called me many things over the years, soothsayer being one of the kinder things,” she agreed, “you’re troubled by many questions you want answers to. Tell me, young one.”

She appeared to be barely older than you...then again, you wondered just how old she was. From the stories you’d been told over the years, you knew that people proclaiming such divine powers were often much older than they appeared. Maybe she was too...either way, it didn’t matter. You were already deep in her clutches, “how is the moon tea sitting in your belly?”

A flush of warmth immediately went to your cheeks as you hung your head, almost in shame. Letting out a long breath, you said quietly, “terrible. I shouldn’t have consumed it. I gave into such silly folly...but it matters not. I cannot have children...I do not know what possessed me.”

“It’s among many of the things that worry you.”

“Yes,” you gave into her, not even bothering to lie. You remained unsure if you fully believed in the idea of a soothsayer, fortune teller, oracle, whatever they wanted to call themselves, but you knew it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibilities. She had already stunned you by finding you and knowing your name...although those could have been easy guesses for her and yet…

“I can give you all the answers you want,” she said softly, “if you want to know them. Some people prefer the mystery of not knowing.”

“What’s the price?” you asked, knowing that something like this was likely not going to be free, “you’re giving me something, surely you want something in return?”

“I have no need for coin or other such worldly things,” she insisted as she brought an arm around your shoulders, leading you slowly over to the water. You stiffened slowly when she brought you near the edge, so you could barely hear anything over the rushing water. One wrong move and both of you would be tumbling into the roaring stream. How she trusted herself to be so careful you would never know, “sometimes knowing the truth is payment enough.”

“I suppose,” you mumbled as you tried to move back from the edge ever so slightly so you could breathe more easily, but she stood firm and resolute, not wanting to move. For someone with such a slight and waif like build she was rather immovable.

“Ask me,” she stated simply as you swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling nervous, “ask me about what’s plaguing your mind.”

“M-my husband,” you said quietly.

“Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell.”

“Yes,” you admitted, figuring that it wasn’t weird for her to know that. Almost everyone knew the prince, and they were likely to realize you were his wife, even if they hadn’t not see you before, “he loves me...I think he does...right? It feels so silly to question, but I just..”

“You’re only questioning it since you’ve spoken to Lady Dayne,” she concluded as you nodded slowly. You were so resolute and nonplussed by the opinions of others, but this had stuck with you, “it’s understandable. You are young, she is young, but she, however, is very unhappy in her marriage. But it does not mean you have to be.”

“Oh?”

“His love and devotion for you is true,” she promised and although you had no reason to trust her or believe her, you did. Your heart did a somersault in your chest before settling down and feeling easier than it had been. He loved you....he truly did. But you’d never really questioned that until it was brought into your mind over breakfast, “but that does not mean that it will always be easy. There will be times when you will argue, when you will want to scream at each other, but that does not mean your love is not real.’’

“I did not expect that it would always be easy,” you acknowledged; of course at someone point there had to be something here and there that you would disagree on. It was only natural, “but I love him and I’m always going to be willing to work things out. T-there is...one more thing…well several actually.”

“Ask to your heart’s delight, just know that you might not always like what you hear. Tread carefully…”

“Waylar,” you almost whispered his name as you stared at your feet, “I-I....I just want to know if he’s okay…”

“A young love lost quickly and tragically. He does not suffer anymore, and has not for some time. He does not walk the earthly realm any longer,” she stated immediately and you felt your chest constrict with pain as your breathing grew ragged and shallow. Your knees felt like they were going to give out at the simple answer, and you wished, you so desperately wished that she was wrong. That she was lying and a complete fraud, “he died shortly after arriving at the Night’s Watch. He died of exposure to the elements, and a broken heart.”

You knew she was being truthful. There was no way she could have known that Waylar had been sent to the Night’s Watch unless she was either some kind of stalker, or she really was what she proclaimed to be.

“No,” you said quietly, feeling warm, salty tears slide down your face. You couldn’t believe it, it had just seemed so wrong. You didn’t even bother to wipe away the tears, letting them flow freely, “he didn’t...he’s gone, and it’s all my fault. He’s dead because of me...the only thing he ever did was love me, and it cost him everything. I should have-”

“It does not do well to dwell on the past, on things we cannot change,” she insisted firmly. She was right...what was done was done. He was dead and there was no way to bring him back, not unless you resorted to some of the dark magic you had only rumors about from other lands, “he is gone and there is nothing to be done. Just realize that he did love you while he was alive. I told you that you might not hear what you want…”

“While we’re at it,” you threw your hands up meekly, ready for more pain and hurt. You only blamed yourself and your stubborn curiosity as you tried not to completely break down, “tell me...will I…will Oberyn and I ever have a child of our own?”

She studied you for a moment, her eyes flicked to your belly for just a moment before looking back at your face. There was an almost unreadable expression on her face as you met her milky eyes.

“No,” she said softly as you let the one word answer wash over you. You had been sure of that already, almost positive anyway, but it still stung to hear the answer. You would still make it a point to go to a Maester once you returned to Sunspear, but the little bit of possible hope you had clung onto was dissolving. But it would be fine - after all, you didn't need a child of your own and Oberyn had his girls. That was enough, more than enough, already so much more than you could ever have imagined. Then why didn’t it feel like enough? Why did it leave you with a deep longing in your heart?

“I-I didn’t think so,” you confessed quietly, “I was...admittedly not careful when I was with Waylar, so reckless and carefree. I knew there were times when I should have...I should have been with child. But it never happened so I had my doubts…”

“That does not mean you will never be a mother.”

“I am...a stepmother of sorts,” you shrugged, “my husband has daughters, and a few are very young still. I love them all very much.”

“Hmm,” she mused much in the same way as the vicious young woman from earlier.

“What?”

“There are many ways that one can be a mother,” she answered, “it’s not always just about carrying and birthing a child.”

You remained silent as you nodded at her, letting out a long breath as an influx of thoughts swarmed throughout your mind. There were so many questions that you still had, but the ones that had been loudest and most prominent were answered. Your main fear and worry was definitely quelled, with the reassurance that Oberyn did love you. Your other questions were answered...but still left you feeling unresolved.

“Having knowledge is not always easy.”

“These were things I would have found out one day anyway,” you shrugged your shoulders, “perhaps finding out the answers has lessened the blow.”

“Now you know,” the strange woman stated quietly. You had so many questions for her still, but you decided they could wait. Maybe you could see this strange woman again and ask her further questions, “but now you must atone.”

“I-I don’t understand-”

“Like you said yourself, nothing comes without a price,” your brows furrowed because you were sure that she had told you that there was nothing you had to do but live with your answers. You were about to say something else, but her hands quickly went to your shoulders and she pushed you back towards the edge of the waterfall to where you were just managing to hold onto your footing. Your whole body was shaking as you tried to push back and slip past her and to safety.

“P-please,” you begged as you grew worried that if you took a tumble into the water, that would be your downfall, “n-no.”

“You must atone,” she insisted and with that, she pushed you over the edge and you started to tumble into the water, letting out an ear shattering scream. You were flinging around wildly, groping around to try and grip onto something, but finding purchase on nothing.

You were going to die, you were sure of it. You felt nothing but sheer panic as you braced yourself for the hard crash into the water. When you did, it felt like you were breaking into a million tiny pieces as you finally stopped falling. Your eyes snapped open in the cold water, and you started to swim desperately to the surface to get some air back into your lungs.

The stance to the top felt like it was insurmountable as you swam towards the light, your lungs starting to feel like you were on fire. But you couldn’t just give up - no. So you kept swimming, kicking your legs as hard as possible as you felt the water getting warmer and warmer.

After what seemed like a small eternity, you broke through the water’s surface, taking in a large, long breath to try and get air back into your lungs. As you swam towards the edge, you were your name being called in a loud, worried voice. You wiped away the water from your eyes as you looked around and found Oberyn running to the edge, dropping to his knees as he held out his arms to help you.

“Oberyn,” you cried out his name meekly as you swam over to him, not bothering to stop him when he hooked his strong arms under yours and dragged to safety on the ground near the water’s edge. You were coughing up a storm, a hand clutching at your chest as you tried to slow and even your breathing. He sat in front of you, but kept a hand protectively on your waist. Warm tears had mixed in with the cold water on your face, making it hard to discern which was which. Once you steadied yourself, you took one look into his worried eyes before throwing your arms around him.

“What happened, my love?” he asked as he held you, his hand immediately going to rub soothing circles on your back as you nestled your face into his shoulder, “I returned and was informed that you had come out here by yourself. I’ve been looking for you for some time and I heard your scream. Please tell you’re alright…”

“Oberyn,” you pulled back and searched his face, holding it in your hands as if to make sure this wasn’t all some sort of dream. Luckily, he felt very real and lifelike in your touch, his warm breath fanning across your face. Before you could stop yourself, you crashed your lips onto his and kissed him an urgent hunger, trying to ground yourself and express just how much you loved him. He kissed you in return, but slowly, ever so slowly, pulled back and gave you a questioning look, “I love you, truly, Oberyn.”

“I love you,” he whispered back, trailing his thumb gently along your bottom lip, “what happened? How did you get so lost in here? And you fell? I was so worried - something horrible could have happened!”

“I just...I wanted to get some fresh air and came out for a walk,” you admitted, deciding to leave out the reason for your strong desire to get away. You weren’t in the mood to get into that whole situation right now, “and I was walking on the path further up towards the waterfall. I-I ran into a woman…”

“A woman?” he questioned, a confused look crossing his features as his brows narrowed, “what do you mean? There’s no one in this forest...the Daynes have people keeping an eye on it constantly....there’s nothing out here but animals.”

“I know what I saw,” you insisted, “I saw her, I spoke to her...she found me. She knew my name, she knew who you were…”

“A woman here in this forest knew exactly who were were and she found you?” he repeated as you nodded fervently, “you didn’t see her when you walked into the forest? She couldn’t have followed you in?”

“There was no one,” you promised, “I was alone, I swear it…”

“As much as I prefer to think only of positive things,” he sighed quietly, “we have enemies everywhere in the Seven Kingdoms. I would never put it past someone to try and do something to us.”

“She didn’t...no,” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, “she wasn’t anything like that. I did not fear her...not until the end anyway. She was a soothsayer - she was blind, her eyes were milky and white.”

“A soothsayer,” he sounded skeptical but he didn’t sound like he was judging you for your belief in what the woman was, “I don’t think...I don’t think that’s what it was…it was probably just an old woman from the nearby town that wandered off and got lost in the wood.”

“Oberyn,” you wished he could have been there and see her with you, then he wouldn’t take so much convincing...although even you yourself could see that what you were saying sounded off the wall and ridiculous, “it wasn’t an old woman. She looked to be my age...she didn’t seem confused - she knew exactly who I was. She knew things about me that no one would know, no one besides myself or you.”

“What did she know?” he gently grabbed your face, cradling it in his large, warm hands and turned your face slightly, studying to make sure you had no wounds, no injuries on your head or neck area. He tutted lightly when he saw nothing, which relieved him greatly, but still didn’t completely alleviate all of his fears, “are you sure she wasn’t just saying things that seemed to answer questions?”

“She knew about us,” you said, “she knew about...about Waylar and the Night’s Watch...about…”

“Sweet sunshine,” he said softly, “I don’t want to alarm you or worry you in the slightest, but are you sure that you...actually saw someone?”

“W-what do you mean?” you asked pulling back and giving him a strange look, “of course I did. I know what I saw Oberyn, she...she pushed me into the waterfall!”

“She pushed you,” he was incredulous at your declaration as you nodded fervently.

“Yes,” you remained steadfast in your opinion, “she gave me answers to questions, and said I had to atone...and then she pushed me.”

“Honey,” the term of endearment was sweet…different from what he’d normally called you, but a welcome one. It brought a small smile to your face, “are you sure, I don’t want to make any assumptions as I was not there, but do you think it’s a possibility that you tripped over something and fell? Have you hit your head at all?”

“I didn’t...fall,” you said softly, although a cloud of confusion was now hanging over you. Maybe...maybe something had happened...and you had taken a tumble or.... Maybe there was something in the tea you had consumed earlier than had caused you to have some sort of wild, vivid hallucinations? With how cunning Eleonora had been at breakfast, you honestly wouldn’t put it past her to have done something of the sort.

The idea of imagining the whole encounter with the mysterious soothsayer was wild, but did the idea of her existence at all. If you were feeling the effects of something, who was to say that you couldn’t have made up the encounter in your mind and then trip and fell. When you really thought about it, none of it seemed out of the realm of possibilities.

Oberyn sighed softly as he touched your cheek before pressing his lips to your forehead, “whatever happened, I’m glad you are okay. I was so worried when I couldn’t find you at first and then I heard a scream. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you.”

“I’m okay,” you promised quietly, now wondering if you had actually met a mysterious woman or if it was real. You shook your head in a vain attempt to get her out of your mind, “I’m okay. Thank you for saving me.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t do much…”

“You did,” you promised, gently touching on his now damp tunic, “you helped, I promise.”

He just offered you a small smile as he held, kissing the crown of your head, “this woman...you said she answered questions you had...what did you ask of her?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you insisted as you swallowed the nervous lump in your throat, “it wasn’t anything important. Follies really…”

“If you’re sure,” he said softly as you offered him a gentle smile, “if anything...you know you can talk about anything to me.”

“I know,” you promised, “I know. You know...you know that when I say I love you, I mean it, right?”

“Of course,” he laughed lightly as he gave you a quick peck, “and I love you, something you never doubt, my sunshine.”

You simply nodded at him before burrowing into his chest. He loved you, you reminded yourself, he loved you. Just as you loved him.

“C-can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything,” he promised.

“Can we return to Sunspear?” you asked, a small frown crawling onto your face as he seemed surprised at your sudden request, “we can take the long route home, but I think I’d like to be back home…”

“Did something happen?” he could tell that something did - otherwise you wouldn’t have made the request so suddenly. You thought about lying to him, about making some weird excuse, but you knew it was best to be upfront with him, especially in this situation.

“I don’t think everything here is as it seems,” you confessed, “things are not as serene as they appear. Lady Dayne made sure I was aware of that this morning.”

“What did she-”

“It’s no matter,” you promised him, “I’m just not sure how welcome we really are. Her words were not very kind this morning. I suspect that she does not think I would tell you any of it, but I don’t want...I don’t want anything like what she and her husband have. I like what we have. I like that I love you. And I like the man that you are, and what can be and will be. I like...us.”

“I like us as well,” he returned the sentiment, “we shall head back for Sunspear come the morrow. Does that sound okay? We shall be home within a fortnight. I’ll send a raven to let them know we are to return sooner than expected, and to prepare our room.”

“Our room?” you asked with a hint of a smile tugging on your features.

“Yes,” he gently, almost seeming shy, “I thought we might...share our chambers upon our return. Unless of course, you’d like to remain in separate quarters…”

“No,” there was nothing but excitement in your voice, “I’ll love that. Really - there is nothing I’d like more than sharing your bed every night, my moon and stars.”

“My sunshine,” he seemed relieved as he slowly up and helped you to do the same, “you make me happy like no other.”

“So do you, Oberyn,” you said quickly followed by a small oof as he swooped you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style. You kissed the tip of his nose before the two of you broke into a fit of giggles.

You still had a million questions floating around in your mind, but they could all wait for later.

Right now, nothing else but this moment mattered.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @rogerfxckingtaylor @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @spacedustmazzello @queenlover05 @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @el-lizzie @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @gooddaykate @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @24kgolden @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @pedrosdoll @winters-buck @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @shameless-pope @paintballkid711 @mrpascals

INO Taglist: @captainskyline @scarlettvonsass @hail-doodles @unadulteratedneckherolover @the-cult-classic-bitch @adlerorzel-blog @rika-cchi @theocatkov @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @whiskeyxinxaxteacup @shayna-winchester @xxlovingfandomsxx @ohsnapitsjanet @talesfromtheguild @phoenixhalliwell @roxypeanut @imnotmentallyst4ble @catsnkooks @misslolasworld @lalablue0 @starlight-starwrites @cielphantomhixe @lady-tano @simonedk @asgardianvamp21 @earthtokace @thelastemzy @indelwen-of-mirkwood @gamingaquarius @maytheglitter @apples-of-february @prettyjewel93 @valhallavalkyrie9 @hystericalmedicine @miraelles @ohpedromypedro @afleetingdream91 @cheesecake-manufacturer @cryptkeepersoul @onlineluna @littlefool-smalljester @imnotmentallyst4ble @shelbythequeen @witchstarw @mrscrain-x7 @songsformonkeys @kiaralein @liadamerondjarin @purpletoadslimeeclipse @rpcvliz @rpcvliz @knittingqueen13 @jaime1110 @voteforpedropascal @demoncrypt1066 @klaine-92 @goth-pigeon @rogueonestan @kiwibaekie @lv7867 @toilet-keeper @kid-from-new-zealand @stillshelbs @buckythewhitewolfx @justanotherblonde23 @dammn-dean @april-14-blog

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #prince oberyn #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #got #in name only

625 notes · View notes