#but 1 they are not and 2 they don’t know how to navigate that kind of interaction so it always comes off as critical of me when i haven’t | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fr0stf4ll · 6 months ago

Text

Forge of Starlight - Part 1

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 4k

notes; This is my first time writing fan fiction. I hope that you guys will like it, and since English isn't my first language, please don’t hesitate to mention any mistakes <3. The story takes place when Rhys was in the early stages of being the High Lord of the Night Court, around 300-350 years old, so 200 years before ACOTAR actually began. I'm not sure yet how many parts this story will have, but I hope that you all will keep reading it ;)))

here is the link for part 2

---

The sound of hammer striking hot iron echoed through the narrow streets of Velaris, mingling with the melodies of the city—the distant hum of conversation and the ever-present whisper of the Sidra River. Within the heart of the Rainbow, a district renowned for its vibrant arts and crafts, a new shop had begun to draw attention. It was an unassuming place at first glance, yet the sheer force of energy within its walls set it apart. This was no ordinary smithy.

You wiped a bead of sweat from your brow, your hands expertly maneuvering the red-hot blade beneath your hammer. Sparks flew with each strike, the heat from the forge wrapping around you like a lover’s embrace, both comforting and overwhelming. The rhythmic clang, clang, clang of metal against metal was music to your ears, a symphony you had been conducting since childhood.

Velaris was in your blood. Though you had been born here, your early memories were of the forge and the sound of your master's hammer. Your mother, a powerful and kind high fae, had died giving birth to you, and your father, unable to bear the weight of his mate’s passing, had followed soon after. You had been raised by a close friend of your father’s, a Master in the art of blacksmithing, who had taken you in as his own. It was under his watchful eye that you learned the craft, your small hands gradually growing strong and sure as you worked beside him, day after day.

With your master, you had traveled across the courts and to the far reaches of the continent, learning from smiths of every kind, studying techniques and secrets long forgotten by most. But no matter where you went, Velaris always called to you. And now, after hundred years of honing your skills, you had returned to the City of Starlight to forge your own path.

The shop itself was a reflection of your work—functional, yet beautiful in its simplicity. The front room was a gallery of sorts, with weapons and tools displayed like pieces of art. Gleaming swords, daggers with intricately carved hilts, and axes that looked as though they could fell the mightiest of trees hung from the walls, each one a testament to your skill. The floor was of polished wood, dark and smooth, with rugs from the weavers of Velaris adding warmth to the space. The light streamed in through tall windows, catching on the steel and iron and casting a soft glow across the room.

The shop had been open for only a few months, yet it had already begun to stir curiosity among the citizens of Velaris. Word spread quickly in the Rainbow—whispers of the new blacksmith who had come to claim a place among the best. But you rarely dealt with the customers yourself. That task fell to Alexander, your young apprentice. At only ten years old, he was sharp as a blade and twice as charming, with a quick smile and a mischievous glint in his eye. The boy had a knack for reading people, knowing just what to say to put them at ease—or to convince them that they needed a new sword or dagger.

As you plunged the heated blade into a trough of water, the hiss of steam rising into the air, you heard the familiar chime of the shop’s bell and the light patter of Alexander’s footsteps as he went to greet the newcomer. You allowed yourself a small smile as you heard his cheerful voice, already launching into his well-practiced routine.

“Welcome to the finest smithy in Velaris!” Alexander’s voice rang out, full of enthusiasm. “You won’t find better craftsmanship anywhere in the city—or the continent, for that matter. What are you looking for today? A sword? A dagger? Or maybe something a bit more… unique?”

There was a pause, and then a voice, low and measured, responded, “I’m looking for the blacksmith.”

Your hands stilled, your grip tightening around the hilt of the blade you had been shaping. It was rare that someone asked for you directly. Most customers were content to browse, to admire the work and perhaps make a purchase. But something in the tone of that voice, the way it cut through the air, sent a shiver down your spine.

“Ah,” Alexander said, his voice tinged with a hint of surprise. “You’re in luck. She’s right here. Let me fetch her for you.”

You took a deep breath, wiping your hands on a cloth as you made your way toward the front of the shop. The bell above the door chimed softly as it closed, and you stepped into the light, your eyes adjusting to the brightness. Alexander was standing by the counter, his wide eyes flicking between you and the figure standing in the center of the room.

As you rounded the corner, you finally laid eyes on the stranger. The words of welcome you had been preparing died on your lips as your gazes locked, and you felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over you, as if this meeting had been fated long before you had returned to Velaris.

Alexander, sensing the shift in the air, stepped back slightly, his usual exuberance giving way to a quiet curiosity. “This is Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “The best blacksmith in Velaris.”

The stranger’s eyes never left yours, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for whatever would come next. He took a step closer, towering over you despite your own considerable height, his presence imposing. His dark hair contrasted sharply with his piercing violet eyes that seemed to take in everything with a single glance.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice smooth and rich, hinting at depths of authority and power. “I’ve heard much about your work, and I find myself in need of your particular expertise.”

The chill from the incoming winter seemed to linger around him, a reminder of the cold that had swept through Velaris with the approach of the Winter Solstice. Despite the warmth of the forge, you felt a shiver run through you—not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze.

“I’m honored, my lord,” you replied, maintaining eye contact, feeling the weight of his presence. “What can I do for you?”

Rhysand’s expression was serious, and his next words carried an air of significance. “The Solstice celebrations are approaching, and with the colder days upon us, I’d like to commission two sets of weapons—a sword and a dagger—for my brothers. I want them to be special, crafted with the utmost care and consideration for their owners.”

Your mind whirred with ideas, but you needed more information to tailor each piece to its future owner. “To create something truly fitting, I’ll need to know more about your brothers. What are their personalities like, and what are their preferences in combat?”

Rhysand’s face softened slightly as he spoke of Cassian and Azriel. “Cassian is a warrior through and through—strong, fiercely loyal, and a born leader. His weapon should reflect that strength and his role within the Illyrian legions.”

You nodded thoughtfully, picturing a sturdy, bold design for Cassian’s sword. “And Azriel?”

“Azriel operates in the shadows, precise and strategic. His weapon should be subtle yet deadly, embodying his role as spymaster.”

A smile flickered across your face. “I have the perfect idea for him—a sleek design with a hidden element, perhaps.”

Rhysand’s approving nod encouraged you to continue. “Since those two are illyrian maybe we can include syphons in the design. It might be best to work with their olds ones. If you could send those to me, I can restore them and integrate them into the new weapons, preserving their familiar feel while enhancing their function.”

“That sounds ideal,” Rhysand agreed. “I’ll arrange for some of their old syphons to be brought to you tomorrow. They are quite worn but hold significant meaning for my brothers.”

You glanced up at him, reassured by his confidence in your abilities. “I’ll ensure the weapons reflect both their personalities and their needs.”

Rhysand’s smile was genuinely warm now. “Thank you, Y/N. I look forward to seeing your craftsmanship.”

With that, he turned to leave, his cloak swirling around him as he stepped out into the cold Velaris air, leaving a trail of frost in his wake. The bell above the door chimed softly, signaling his departure.

Standing in your forge, you felt the weight of the responsibility settle onto your shoulders. This commission was more than just a job; it was a chance to craft pieces that would be carried by some of the most formidable warriors in the Night Court. You had done works for other lords, kings or fighters, but every time a new challenge would come up your excitement increased so much. The idea of those people working with your creations was just incredible.

As the cold seeped into the shop, you turned back to your workbench, pulling out parchment and charcoal. Your sketches began to take shape, influenced by the discussion and your insights into the characters of the two brothers. Powerful, elegant, and deadly—just like the men they were meant for.

The forge called to you, and as you answered, diving into your work, you felt a sense of purpose. These weapons would be more than just tools; they would be extensions of the warriors themselves, forged with skill and imbued with the spirit of the Winter Solstice.

After a few more hours of work and locking up the smithy, you and Alex headed up to your cozy apartment. It was adorned with all the comforts of a true craftsman's home—polished wooden floors, local Velaris art, and big windows that showcased the night sky. Your personal collection of swords decorated the walls, each blade a story from your past travels with your old master.

At the foot of your bed lay Stellan, your faithful direwolf companion. His thick, snow-white fur contrasted sharply with his deep, dark eyes that held a world of wisdom and loyalty. You had found him as a pup during one of your early travels—a small, shivering ball of fur huddled against the cold. From that moment on, Stellan had been by your side, growing into a majestic creature whose presence was as comforting as it was formidable.

Your apartment, while only boasting two bedrooms, mostly saw both you and Alex sharing the larger one. Alex had claimed a corner of it with his makeshift bedding, but as the night deepened, he inevitably migrated to your bed, preferring its warmth and the company.

Tonight, you were sitting in bed with your sketchbook, the moonlight and candlelight mingling to create the perfect ambiance for drawing. Stellan's gentle snores provided a soothing background hum, his large form curled protectively at the bed's end. Alex, lying next to you, propped himself up on an elbow to get a better look at your work.

"So, Nana, this one’s going to be for the High Lord, huh?" Alex's voice was soft, filled with awe and curiosity.

"Yeah, it is," you nodded, continuing your sketch. "Every piece needs to be perfect, though, no matter who it’s for. Whether it's a High Lord or a local warrior, they all deserve the best." Despite the illustrious clientele, you held every piece to the same standard of perfection, knowing well that each creation bore your signature, no matter the buyer.

Alex grinned at that. "I know. That’s why your stuff is the best. But hey, why’d you let me call you Nana again? It’s nicer than just ‘master’ or something too formal."

You chuckled softly, a slight blush on your cheeks. "Because you said it fits well, and I guess it does. It’s kind of endearing, Alex."

He blushed, pleased with the affirmation, then leaned closer to peek at your sketchbook. "Show me what you’ve got so far. I bet it’s epic."

You tilted the sketchbook towards him, revealing detailed designs of the sword intended for the spymaster. "This blade needs to embody stealth and strength, reflecting who it's for. It’s not just a weapon; it’s a piece of art."

As you spoke, Stellan lifted his head, ears twitching as if acknowledging the conversation. His dark eyes flickered open, observing you both with a gentle, protective gaze. With a soft huff, he repositioned himself, laying his head back down on his massive paws, content to simply be in your presence.

Alex nodded seriously, taking in every line and curve you had drawn. "It’s amazing, Y/N. They’re gonna love it."

As the evening wore on, Alex's questions and observations gradually slowed as sleep began to claim him. His head eventually found a resting place on your shoulder, his breathing evening out as he drifted off. You smiled down at him, setting the sketchbook aside. His trust and the simple title of 'Nana' he'd given you felt more precious than any formal recognition.

Stellan, sensing the room's quieting energy, stood up and stretched, his movements graceful despite his size. He padded softly around the bed, finally settling down closer to you and Alex, his body a warm barrier against the night’s chill. His presence was a comforting constant, a silent guardian watching over your small family.

With the room now quiet, save for the soft sounds of Alex's sleep and Stellan's rhythmic breathing, the distant hum of the night city served as a lullaby. You felt a peaceful end to the productive day. The weight of creating something worthy of the Night Court was significant, but it was a challenge you were ready to meet with your usual dedication to excellence. Slipping under the covers, you settled in next to Alex, the moonlight casting a gentle glow over you all. With Stellan's protective aura enveloping you, you allowed yourself to drift off, thoughts of tomorrow’s forging dancing in your dreams.

On the other side of the city at the townhouse, the evening was filled with laughter and good spirits. Cassian was in fine form, regaling the table with a joke about an Illyrian warrior who mistook a glamour-spell for his opponent in a sparring match. The table erupted in laughter, appreciating the absurdity of the tough warrior swatting at thin air.

As chuckles subsided and glasses were refilled, Azriel steered the conversation toward local news with his typically quiet but clear tone. "Have you heard, Rhys?" he began, capturing the table's attention. "There’s a new blacksmith in Velaris."

"Actually?" Cassian's interest was piqued, his expression curious.

"Yes, I’ve checked on her—she's already established quite the reputation," Azriel continued.

"Her, like she is a female?" Cassian asked, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Yes, 'her' like that, Cassian…" Azriel replied with a slight smirk, enjoying the moment of revelation.

Rhysand joined in with a knowing smile. "She's not just any blacksmith. She’s made quite a name for herself, especially with blades. She’s worked with several high lords across Prythian."

Cassian choked slightly on his drink, surprised. "A female blacksmith, swinging hammers with the high lords? She must be quite skilled."

"She is," Rhysand confirmed, his voice reflecting a mix of respect and intrigue. "Her blades are reputed to be some of the finest—well-crafted and balanced. The detail and precision are said to be exceptional."

The brothers shared intrigued glances, the atmosphere buzzing with new interest. The conversation seamlessly wove around various artisans they knew, but the topic of the new blacksmith lingered, sparking a particular fascination.

"So, what's her specialty? Just weapons, or does she do armor too?" Cassian probed, clearly intrigued.

"Primarily weapons. She has a particular talent for swords and daggers," Rhysand explained.

As the evening wore on, Rhysand found a moment to lean towards Azriel. “By the way Az, could you drop a box off at the blacksmith's tomorrow? "

Azriel nodded, sensing the significance of the task, though his eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. "Anything else I should know?"

"Just the box," Rhysand responded, his tone firm yet enigmatic, giving nothing further away.

Both Azriel and Cassian looked at each other, their curiosity clearly piqued, but recognizing that Rhysand was keeping his cards close to his chest. They returned to lighter topics, but the mention of the new blacksmith had woven itself into their conversation, adding a thread of intrigue to the vibrant tapestry of Velaris’s ongoing stories.

—

Back in your smithy, the clanging of metal and the heat of the forge filled the air, mingling with the lively chatter of customers at the front of the shop. Alexander, navigated skillfully among the patrons, his arms laden with weapons. His voice, bright and enthusiastic, carried over the din as he extolled the virtues of your craftsmanship.

"Feel the balance of this blade!" Alexander exclaimed to a curious couple, holding up a finely crafted sword for inspection. "Forged right here, each swing is as smooth as the Sidra's flow!"

With the Winter Solstice drawing near, the shop was bustling with activity as each order demanded meticulous attention and finesse. You had just put the finishing touches on a stylized hammer, commissioned by one of the lords of the Illyrian camps, when the bell above the door chimed.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a figure cloaked in shadows enter. It was Azriel, Rhysand’s spymaster, moving with a quiet grace that seemed almost unnatural. His presence caused a subtle shift in the atmosphere as he approached Alexander first, speaking in hushed tones before your apprentice pointed him towards the back.

Wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, you pushed through the curtain that separated your work area from the shop. Dressed in a revealing black top and overalls that were unclipped at the top, leaving much of your torso exposed due to the heat of the forge, you approached the visitor. Big gloves covered your hands, protecting them from the forge’s heat. As you came into view, you caught Azriel's gaze flick momentarily—almost imperceptibly—downwards before meeting your eyes again. Though brief, it didn’t escape your notice.

“Who is it?” you asked, your voice echoing slightly in the busy shop.

“I need to deliver something to you,” Azriel stated, his voice even and calm, holding out a small, intricately carved box.

Before taking the box, you carefully removed your heavy gloves, revealing hands marked by the rigors of your trade. You took it, feeling the weight and the latent power it seemed to hold. Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him. “From the High Lord ?”

“Yes. He said you’d know what to do with it,” Azriel replied, his gaze now fixed firmly on your face, any earlier distraction gone.

You nodded, understanding that the contents of the box were likely tied to the commission Rhysand had mentioned previously. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll handle it from here.”

As Azriel turned to leave, Alexander’s voice once again filled the shop, drawing new customers' attention: "Every piece has its own story, crafted with the finest skills learned from the great forges of Prythian! See for yourselves!"

You couldn’t help but smile at Alexander’s enthusiasm as he continued to engage the customers with his lively banter. Azriel, the enigmatic shadow singer, had left as quietly as he had arrived. There was something undeniably captivating about him—his mysterious aura only added to his allure.

Standing for a moment, you held the box, feeling its potential. But the demands of the day pulled you back, and you returned to the forge, your mind already racing with ideas for the contents of the box and the work that lay ahead.

Just as you were about to reignite the forge, Alex poked his head through the curtain, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“He was hot, right?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with teasing curiosity.

You paused, a smirk forming as you glanced back at the retreating figure of Azriel. “Aren’t you supposed to be ten?” you retorted playfully, raising an eyebrow at Alex.

Alex chuckled, undeterred. “Maybe, but I can tell when someone’s cool. He’s like a shadow knight from those legends you told me!”

Laughing, you shook your head and turned back to your workbench, the plans for Rhysand’s commission spread out before you. “Get back to the front, Alex. And keep your comments about the customers to yourself, even if they are high lords or shadow singers.”

Alex laughed and ducked back through the curtain, his voice soon mingling with the customers once again. As you focused on the intricate designs of the new commission, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement for the challenge ahead, your heart still light from the brief yet intriguing encounter.

#azriel fic #rhysand #azriel #cassian #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #sword #a court of thorns and roses #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar x you

484 notes · View notes

penkura · 7 months ago

Text

where you belong [2/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Note: Sorry this has taken so long! I wanted to really progress these two and get some moments between them, so the chapter ended up bigger than planned! Next one is a good one I think. ;) Forgot to mention last time but Reader is going to be described as shorter than Law, and that height difference can be your own interpretation (I'm 5ft tall, these men would tower over me).

I am also FLOORED at how well received the first chapter was and that we've got a taglist for this series, my gosh. You guys are so sweet and wonderful!! If I missed you on the taglist PLEASE let me know and I will add you to the future chapters! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and the beginning of Law and Reader falling for each other!

Taglist:

[Ch. 1]

You spend the next week learning more about the Polar Tang and the Heart Pirates themselves, Law taking most of your time to help you get used to things. He's made sure you understand the basic rules of the ship, for his crew, including the boiler suits, and what do in case of certain emergencies. You’re going to be working on your poisons in his office, in case anything happens, he can help you fix it. You’re honestly grateful for the time everyone has taken to help you get your bearings straight and work out where things are. You’ll be sharing a room with Ikkaku, who is so glad to have another girl aboard for as long as you are. She’s already started sharing some gossip with you, pointing out those involved so you knew who was who on top of it all.

Penguin has been extremely kind and helpful, telling you that you’re welcome to join him for night watches once you tell him you spend a lot of time writing during your shifts on the Sunny.

Shachi and Uni both showed you around some of the major maintenance areas, both promising they’d help you learn the most basic things so you can be of help if needed.

You’re about to join Bepo for a quick navigation lesson before their captain calls you, wanting to discuss somethings with you before you got too far away.

Law, although he agreed to letting you stay with him and his crew, still isn’t entirely sure what to do with you. There’s still that strange feeling in his chest when you smile at him, as you thank him for all his help and allowing you to stay, once he brings you to his office again a few days later, and he waves you off.

“You don’t have to thank me constantly.”

“I know,” you smile again and he feels that feeling that’s been hanging around, but Law tries to ignore it, “I’m just…really grateful. I know my being here may be a burden—”

“Not a burden, you’re welcome here. Everyone’s glad you’re staying around for now.”

Hearing that makes you brighten up, as Law starts to question you more about what you do for the Straw Hats, and what you can bring to his crew in the meantime. You list off everything you’ve come to learn about being at sea from being a Straw Hat, Law making mental notes on other things to ask about later.

“Any other special talents we should know about?”

You start to think, pressing a finger to your chin while you do so. Another action Law has to tell himself isn’t cute, before you grin and lean in close to him, quietly speaking.

“I can see the dead.”

Complete silence as Law raises an eyebrow at you as you continue to grin, halfway expecting him to ask for proof. Ask you to tell him about a spirit that might be hanging around the Polar Tang, or around one his crewmembers, but he doesn’t ask anything, eventually returning to a straight face.

“No you can’t.”

“…okay fine, I can’t. It’d be cool though!”

He rolls his eyes, which makes you laugh in return. Law goes to let you out of his office which you oblige by, knowing he’s done talking with you now that you’ve made your joke. He stops you with a hand on your shoulder first, you giving him a questioning look.

“I’ll help you make antidotes for your poisons. But you won’t use my crew as test subjects.”

“Ha! That’s fine, I don’t test on people anyway, just in case. Just give me some fish and I can use those.”

Giving him another grin, you walk ahead saying Bepo was going to show you something next, but Law had rudely interrupted by wanting to know what you could bring to his crew for the next two years. You’ll promise later to make extra batches of antidote for him to keep in his medicine stockpile, while Law watches you hurry down the hall and sighs.

“That’s the wrong way.”

He’s quick to follow you, grabbing your arm and bringing you back the right way, deciding he’ll join you and Bepo for whatever it was you two were discussing next. He wants to ensure you’re being given correct information and know what to do in an emergency, especially so if you need medical attention.

Atta boy, Law.

If you really could see the dead, you’d have noticed the tall, blond man with makeup and a large, black feathered coat pushing Law towards you.

+!+

“We’re approaching a winter island, everyone needs to be ready to disembark for a bit and—”

“A winter island?!”

Your outburst causes Law to stop speaking with a nod at you, and you’re gone to the crew bunks in an instant, followed by Bepo who is just as excited. Law gives a look to Ikkaku and Uni, who you’d been talking to when he came in, and both simply shrug at him. They all briefly noticed a sparkle in your eyes as you ran off, likely to change clothes and get ready to disembark, but none of them knew your intent or real interest in the snow.

It's only when Law catches you by the exit door with Bepo, excitedly talking with the Polar bear mink about what you could do in the snow, all dressed up in your coat, thick pants, boots and gloves. You and Bepo trade ideas back and forth about what to build out of the snow, or if you can get a snowball fight started.

Law hasn’t seen someone so excited for snow in a long time, he thinks not since the last winter with Lami.

Penguin joins you and Bepo by the door next, throwing an arm around your shoulders and giving you a smile.

“What’re you so excited about some snow for?”

“It practically never snows in my home town! I think it snowed maybe twice while Luffy and I lived there? Chopper is from a winter island, so when we were there, it was so exciting!”

“Haha, I’m from the North Blue, so snow is pretty normal up there. Well…the area me and Shachi are from anyway.”

“Ah,” you give a little sigh but smile yourself, “I’m so jealous. What about Trafalgar?”

“That’s…well, kind of different, but we did meet him where we used to live,” looking over his shoulder, Penguin sees Law but leans into whisper, “Probably better if you ask him another time. It’s…a lot…”

Before you have a chance to question it, Law comes up behind Penguin and tells him to go ahead with opening the door, the Polar Tang should be stable enough for you all to leave now. You put that question into the back of your mind for later, instead running out with Bepo as soon as the door opens. The excitement both of you have is almost contagious, as the rest of the Heart Pirates slowly join you outside. While some of them are tasked with scoping out the island, the rest end up with you and Bepo building snowmen for a while, though you and the mink end up making a snow polar bear the best you can even if it looks a little goofy in the end. Some pieces are a little larger than others but you still think it’s cute, even as your companion bows his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N], I made some things a little too big.”

“No, that’s okay, Bepo! It gives it charm, I think he’s cute!”

You reassure Bepo a few times with a smile, before the two of you go to work with others on more snow sculptures. It goes well until you get hit in the face with a snowball, thrown by Hakugan at Shachi who dodged just in time. While it makes you sneeze a bit as you brush the snow off your face, with Bepo and Ikkaku yelling at Hakugan while he shouts apologies and Shachi nearly cackles, it doesn’t upset you at all really. Yeah it kind of hurt to have a snowball hit you in the face, but hey, you mentioned a snowball fight earlier, right?

Crouching down to gather up some snow, you put on a wicked grin and fling the ball at Hakugan yourself, catching him in the back as he turns away while you laugh.

“How about a warning next time?!”

“Yeah, snowball fight!!”

Most everyone joins in, gathering up all the snowballs they could or just throwing loose snow at each other, Law watches from the side, a slight smile on his face. He’s glad everyone can take a bit to relax and enjoy themselves, he’s not sure he’s seen his crew this excited about snow in a long time, even Shachi who grew up in the North Blue. Some of you group up to get an advantage over others, Law turns to ignoring the snowball fight as Penguin and Uni come back with what they found on the island.

All is well until Law is hit in the back of the head with a snowball, keeping himself upright but turning quickly to search through everyone and find who did it as you all quiet down seeing his glare. Not a single person looks him in the eye, but they all point to you, while you cover your mouth with your hand and try to stifle your laughter.

“S-Sorry, Trafalgar,” a giggle escapes you as you glance over to him, “I… I was… hehe… aiming for Penguin… honest!”

“Oh yeah…?” Law’s voice is low, he crouches down to scoop up some snow, locking eyes with you as yours widen and you turn to run, but realize it’s futile when Law uses his Shambles to catch up and grab you, shoving the snow he’d gathered into your coat and making you screech before everyone returns to the snowball fight.

“That’s cruel!!”

“Everyone get Captain, he’s cheating!’

While the rest of the Heart Pirates aim for Law, you and their captain are honed in on each other, trading blows from snowballs for the longest time, your personal goal to knock his hat off as payback for shoving snow down your back. Luckily you’re not the one to hit him hard enough to knock the spotted hat off, but you’re close enough to grab before he does, sticking it on your own head and playing keep away once Law realizes where it’s at.

“Looks good on me, huh, Trafalgar?! I might keep it!”

“The hell you will, that’s mine!”

Once Law catches you, he doesn’t let go until he’s snatched his hat back off your head and returned it to its rightful place, keeping a grip on your arm as he notices the sky starting to get darker. The rest of the crew has settled down, stopping at first to watch you and Law until a new snowfall began.

You forget for a few minutes that Law has a hold of your arm, it’s not uncomfortable, but you feel your heart pick up a bit from it.

“It’s pretty….the snowfall.”

He nods, finally noticing he still has a hold of you and letting go, disappointment flooding you as Law calls for everyone to return to the ship. Tomorrow will be a day in town to restock, you’ll all take off again afterwards.

You volunteer at dinner to make everyone the lavender milk tea that Makino once taught you, most of the crew enjoying it, but you’re especially surprised by Law liking it, even telling you so.

It's the small smile he gives when you thank him that makes you realize you just might be starting to get a crush on him.

+!+

Law knows something is up when you don’t join the rest of the Heart Pirates for a meeting before being let off the ship. He still does his job as captain, giving out duties to everyone so they knew what to do and who would be stocking supplies, who would be checking for wanted posters, and anything he felt needed to be done this time. He’d planned for you to join him on a once around the island to look for anything of interest, but when you don’t show up, he knows something must be wrong.

“Ikkaku-ya,” Law stops your roommate before she gets too far, Ikkaku giving him her full attention, “Where’s [Y/N]-ya?”

“Oh, um…” Ikkaku shuffles from one foot to the next, not fully looking at her captain and that’s what worries him more, until she speaks again, “She isn’t feeling well…she’s not sick so she doesn’t need a check-up but, it might be best to leave her alone today, probably tomorrow too…”

That leads to Law believing your cycle had started, and he chooses not to question it further, lest he or Ikkaku feel embarrassed about the discussion. He decides to leave you be, you’ll probably join them tomorrow for island exploring, most likely with Penguin if he asks you especially. When you do show up for dinner that evening, you’re quieter than usual and Law notices how Penguin and Ikkaku are the ones to talk with you. He can’t hear anything they say, but seeing you at least smile and respond to them is enough for him to think that everything is fine, you’re just not feeling 100% and that makes sense. He’s heard you and Ikkaku complain about cramps and the like the last few months, he already knows the first day is hard for you, so he lets it go. At least you’re out and talking to everyone.

But he knows something is up the next time it happens, not even two weeks later, and it can’t be blamed on your period this time. You don’t show up to a crew meeting, you still aren’t one of his crewmates but you’ve been joining for anything interesting or important, and Law doesn’t let it show that he's a little more worried, so he stops Penguin this time and asks him the same thing, where are you and why didn’t you show up?

Penguin doesn’t fully look at Law, scratching the back of his head as he tries to find the words.

“She…just isn’t up for it today, Cap. Maybe we should let her have the day off…”

Although Law tells Penguin that’s fine, he does go off to find you, the door to your and Ikkaku’s room barely open, but he knocks to make sure you’re not indecent or anything. There’s no answer so he opens the door, not seeing you anywhere, the new assumption being that you’re in the bathroom. He turns his attention there, again knocking on the door.

“[Y/N]-ya, Penguin-ya said you weren’t felling well, are you all right?”

No response, Law furrows his brow and knocks again, saying your name a little louder this time. He swears he hears a small whimper and a sob, and that’s what makes him finally open the bathroom door, simply saying he’s coming in before doing so, but he nearly freezes when he sees you.

Nearly curled up into a ball in the corner, head buried in your arms wrapped around your knees with numerous used tissues and he just knows that if you looked up at him, he’d feel that strange feeling in his chest again, or one of heartbreak, he isn’t entirely sure which one.

Law is not trying to scare you, but when he touches your hand and says your name a third time, it makes you jump and look up at him with wide, tear filled eyes, you feel beyond embarrassed that he’s caught you like this, but it quickly turns to more tears and a bit of anger.

“Are you—”

“Get out! Go away!!” Law barely dodges the box of tissues when you throw it at him, he’s not able to dodge the mascara you toss at his head as you keep yelling at him to leave. He doesn’t really move to leave until you stand up much too quickly and start pushing him out, he’s just surprised at your reaction to him finding you crying. “Leave me alone!!”

Once he’s out the door you almost slam it shut in his face and lock it, Law doesn’t know what to make of this really.

He can handle physical ailments, mental is a little harder for him but he’s working on it for his crew, yet emotional problems are not in his wheel house at all. He doesn’t really know why you’re locked in the bathroom, hiding in a corner crying, but that look on your face gave him an idea. He recognizes it from his own past, after his family and Flevance, then again after Corazon.

It was pure grief that was written on your face, definitely from your still fresh loss of Ace, and Law isn’t sure how to help you.

He doesn’t know if he should help you, you just might turn all your grief inward and ignore any hands held out for help, even from your new friends let alone him.

“Captain? Why are you…oh.”

Ikkaku finds Law still in your room several minutes later, staring at your bathroom door, until he hears her and looks at her, an expression she can’t read on his face.

“How long?”

“A few weeks now,” she sits on the edge of her bed, not looking at Law now, “It happens randomly it seems like, or something reminds her of Ace and sets her off. His birthday is soon, so that might be it right now. Penguin and I promised we wouldn’t let anyone know, so she could grieve alone.”

“Why was it being kept a secret?”

She shrugs a bit, Law isn’t sure he’s going to get many more answers today, but then Ikkaku speaks up again.

“She doesn’t want to burden anyone with her feelings, I guess. She should be fine by dinner, Captain, she just… needs some time.”

While she is correct, and you show up again at dinner looking normal but still with a sadness on your face that he can see, Law wonders if there’s something he can do to help you. Your need to grieve and have that time alone isn’t a bad thing, he won’t deny you that when you need it, but he wants to do something for you, he still doesn’t know you well enough to know that exactly you need, but anything is better than letting you be alone.

He knows all too well how that feels.

When it happens a third time, several weeks later, you don’t show up once again, Law doesn’t even need to look at Penguin or Ikkaku, they won’t meet his eyes anyway. After he lets everyone else go, his next mission is to find you, even though he knows exactly where you are. Law isn’t sure if his plan is going to work, but he wants you to stop hiding away from everyone when you break down. It’s not because he’s angry about it, he just doesn’t want you to continue suffering alone. It’s not good for anyone to do that.

He doesn’t even knock when he gets to your room, but does so when he sees your bathroom door is closed like the last time.

“[Y/N]-ya, I’m coming in.”

“No,” you force back a sob, making sure the door is locked, “Go away!”

“I won’t.”

You haven’t experienced all the abilities Law has at his disposal, but you aren’t that surprised when you see a blue hue, and he’s in the bathroom with you not even a moment later. He’s not phased by you attempting to throw things at him again, even while you yell at him to leave you alone, you don’t need help, you don’t need anyone right now.

You’ve handled things like this by yourself your whole life, why would need help now?

“I don’t need help!”

“I’m not trying to help.”

“Then lea—”

Law doesn’t give you much more room to talk, instead grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug, pressing your face into his chest which causes your eyes to widen a bit and tears to flow even more.

“I’m not trying to help,” Law holds you tightly, feeling a just a bit of relief as you slowly wrap your arms around him in return while you return to crying, “but you don’t have to be alone, all right?”

“T-Trafalgar…I…I just—”

“I know, I get it. But,” he knows it’s probably going to sound hypocritical based on his own issues, but Law still feels the need to say it again, “you don’t have to do this alone.”

Law isn’t entirely sure why he’s chosen to let you cry into him, let you grip onto his shirt like he’s the only thing holding you to the earth while you continue to cry and say how it isn’t fair that Ace died, that you lost another brother (he’s going to have to ask about that later, that’s the second time you’ve mentioned it). Maybe it’s because he didn’t have anyone back then, when he lost his own loved ones. It might be that, because he saw a reflection of himself in you the first time he found you hiding away and struggling to handle your grief. While you drag the two of you to the floor, Law simply adjusts to as comfortable a position he can, he’s at least sure you’ll both be there a while. You don’t show any signs of calming any time soon.

Law doesn’t know why he came after you, but once your cries fade to nothing, not even whimpers, he’s relieved to hear you speaking to him without being upset or between sobs of anger and sadness.

“I’m sorry…for crying all over your shirt again…”

“Don’t be. It’ll wash.”

Law strokes your hair a bit while you finally smile, nodding, before he helps you up off the floor. While you wash your face, Law directs you to not worry about helping anyone out with chores or sharing shifts today, he’s already split everything up among his crew, you’re under strict orders from the doctor to rest and recover from your breakdown. He does offer to bring you something to eat and drink, which you take him up on, stopping him before he fully leaves your room.

“Thank you…Law, I appreciate this…”

He’s completely aware that’s the first time you’ve used his first name, and he notices a different feeling in his chest. It’s not the same, almost heart squeeze he’s felt before, but something more comforting. Warm almost, and he’s starting to get it more.

“You’re welcome, [Y/N]-ya.”

Ah, that’s what it is…

Law realizes he’s starting to have feelings for you, though he decides to push them down for now.

He’s not going to use your weakened emotional state to push himself further into your life, not when he doesn’t even know if he’s okay with these feelings or not. For now, he’s going to do what he said and bring you some lunch, he’ll deal with these feelings later.

It is nice to hear you call him by his given name though.

+!+

“You’re as reckless as your brother.”

You giggle a bit while Law continues to wrap bandages around your arm, shooting you a small glare while you laugh. He’s not amused, mostly because it was him you’d tried to protect and ended up getting hurt over. You shoved him out of the way of an enemy attack, receiving a deep slice across your own arm instead. Once he realized what happened, Law was furious with you, even though he knows you aren’t part of his crew, it didn’t change the fact he was trying to protect you for Luffy while your crew was apart. You were lucky, he’d told you after he forced you to the infirmary, that your attacker’s weapon didn’t have any poison on it. You’d probably be dead before he even got you there if it had been.

You just grinned and said it was the opposite, your attacker was lucky your knife didn’t have poison on it, or he’d be in worse shape than he already was from your perfect aim hitting him between the shoulders. It doesn’t cause Law any relief to hear that, he still glares and it makes you start to shrink away, averting your gaze elsewhere.

You two still don’t know each other very well, it’s only been a few months since Luffy tossed you to him as the Heart Pirates left Amazon Lily. Still, you’ve found Law is fiercely protective of his crew, his family, just as you are with the Straw Hats, and while you’re with them, you count as one of his crewmembers.

The feelings you’ve started to develop for him don’t help much, Ikkaku being the only one who knows since you’ve told her how distraught you feel over it.

How could you start falling for a rival pirate captain? It’s only a crush but it makes you feel like you’re betraying your crew sometimes.

“Law, I’m fi—”

“And what if you weren’t?” He’s nearly grinding his teeth and ties off your bandage a little tighter than he intended, making you take a sharp breath. “What would you want me to tell your brother?”

You shrug, starting to play with the end of the bandages to distract yourself from him. “Could just tell him I protected you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you jump when Law slams down the scissors on the metal plate, keeping his back to you so you don’t see how upset he really is, “My crew knows I don’t need it. They know to run if a battle might cost them their lives. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because I do this for my crewmates, too. I’ve even pushed Zoro and Sanji out of the way. I’m sorry if you don’t like it but—”

“Sorry wouldn’t bring you back from the dead.”

You both become silent, you taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment before nodding and biting your lip.

“You’re right…that’s why Ace isn’t back.”

“Hey, I didn’t—”

“Thanks for bandaging me up, Trafalgar,” Law turns around just as you jump off the table, going to leave, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Law watches you leave, letting out a frustrated sigh once you’re gone. He really hadn’t meant to upset you, it just came out, but it was also the truth. What good was ‘sorry’ if you had died and he had to tell Luffy that he'd lost another sibling, this time a blood related one? He didn’t want to have to deal with that, not when you and Luffy were still getting over Ace’s death.

He gets it, he really does, that pain doesn’t go away quickly, no matter how many false smiles you give to him or the others, or how often you laugh with them. No matter how many times he finds you crying the bathroom over you grief. It hasn’t been that long, he doesn’t expect you to be whatever is normal for you so soon. He probably shouldn’t be berating you, you’re not part of his crew so he doesn’t have the right, Law isn’t your captain.

But, you’re under his care for two years, you’re a temporary member of his crew, so you should listen to him. You’re proving to be as stubborn as Luffy is, but also just as protective as Law is.

And your progress with him, ugh. You’d finally gotten comfortable enough to call him by his first name, and now you’re back to calling him Trafalgar instead. Seven months of progress down the drain all because he was concerned, worried about you being reckless.

…why am I so worried though?

He could easily chalk it up to the fact you’re Luffy’s sister and he’s trying to protect you until you’re back with your crew, or he could even say its because of the feelings he’s developed for you, but Law doesn’t want to get into that right now.

Neither of you speak until dinner, when you run into each other right outside the kitchen and start a back and forth about who should go in first.

“You’re the captain, sir.”

“Ladies first, miss.”

You don’t like being formal, or hearing him call you ‘miss’, but you don’t want to fight about it. Not when his crew can hear and might be concerned about it.

“Crew shouldn’t eat without their captain there.”

“We don’t have that rule around here.”

Eventually you relent and go first, getting your food and taking the first free seat by Ikkaku, Law sitting beside you a moment later. You don’t talk to each other the whole time, you focus on your conversation with Ikkaku while Law responds to anyone speaking to him. You barely even notice when Law takes the roll he really didn’t want to have on his plate, and moves it to yours, almost like a peace offering that you two are okay, he’s not mad at you for trying to protect him anymore. You do give him a smile when you notice, which he returns with a nod before leaving for his room.

You sigh a bit, looking back to your plate and keeping your smile to yourself.

Things will be okay.

+!+

Over the last nearly ten months, Law has learned a few of your quirks. When you work on your poisons, you mark things three times over to ensure you have the correct amounts listed, you almost always strike up conversation with him about anything that comes to mind, even if Law doesn’t answer you.

Sometimes he’s caught you biting your pencil or pen while making notes, it’s one of your cuter quirks.

On nights you can’t sleep, like tonight, he can easily find you in the kitchen, brewing up some tea to help you fall asleep, and that’s where Law decides he has to talk to you. You’ve both moved past your argument from a few months ago, it’s like it never happened now, but he feels the need to speak with you about something important.

No, not his feelings, he’s going to ignore those as long as possible. He recognized them after you’d had an emotional breakdown, he’s not going to admit that especially, he doesn’t want you to think he has a kink for crying or something, absolutely not.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Law,” you look over your shoulder for a second with a smile, turning back to your tea, “Couldn’t sleep, though some tea might help.”

“Your usual then?”

Nodding, as you finish off your tea making, Law sits at the table and waits for you to join him, knowing you’ve made him a cup of lavender milk tea too. You’d started doing that and either taking it to his office before you head to bed or having him join you in the kitchen where you have small conversations before you both turn in for the night.

You’ve gotten quite comfortable with Law, your own feelings for him aside. He’s been helpful with your poison and antidote creations, ensuring your ratios are correct and helping you when they aren’t. You’ve started discussing books you’ve both read, you were shocked to find he enjoyed the Sora Warrior of the Sea comics. His being such a nerd over them never struck you as odd thankfully, Law even letting you borrow a few of his copies so you can give it a try yourself.

He makes you feel safe and comfortable, you really enjoy being with Law.

Law thanks you when you hand over the mug of tea, taking your seat across from him to enjoy your own, settling into a welcomed silence. With how rowdy his crew can be at times, you get why Law hides himself away in his office most of the time, and you’re grateful that he lets you share the space when needed.

“I know you said I didn’t have to,” Law looks over to you as you speak, an eyebrow raised, “but thank you again, for letting me stay. I really appreciate the help you’ve given me.”

“Like I’ve said, its no problem. Everyone’s glad you’re here.”

I’m more than glad you’re here.

There’s a soft smile on your face that Law enjoys seeing, and he honestly hopes you won’t lose it after he talks to you.

“I wanted…to tell you something.”

“Go for it,” setting your mug down on the table, you rest your elbows there with your chin in your hands, “I’m all ears, Law.”

He's almost fighting himself on if he should or shouldn’t, maybe another time. It’s late after all, you probably want to go to bed now that you’ve had your tea. It’s making him sleepy too, but the anxiety he feels is almost nullifying the tea’s effects.

Taking a deep breath, Law finally speaks up again, not meeting your eye.

“I want to tell you about my past,” that makes you perk up, remembering what Penguin had said to you months ago, “But I don’t think I can tonight. It’s…”

“A lot…?”

He nods, which you return, realizing this must be more than what Penguin could’ve meant, it has to be hard for Law to dredge up whatever memories he has of his childhood and teenage years, of everything that led him to where he is now.

Everything that’s leading him down the path he’s chosen.

“So,” when he finally looks up at you, you’re not surprised at how tired Law looks, it has to be taking a lot for him to do this, “I want to set a time in a few days, where you and I can sit, and I can tell you everything. “

You need to know before I could ever tell you my feelings anyway.

“Law,” Nodding, you quietly reach out your hand to his, not wanting to scare him off, “Just tell me whenever, and I’ll make myself available to listen, okay?”

After he agrees, Law offers to walk you back to your shared room with Ikkaku, which you take him up on even though you know the way. The Polar Tang is only so big, but it’s nice to have him by your side. Once you reach your door, Law turns to leave and you stop him, grabbing his shirt sleeve and leaning up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, his eyes widening just a hair.

“Thanks for walking me…and trusting me, Law. See you in the morning.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything in response before you enter your room and close the door, sighing heavily as you bring yourself to the floor, Ikkaku watching you from her bed.

“Man, you’ve got it bad for the captain, huh?”

“…it’s that obvious?”

“As obvious as the fact he’s the same for you, girlfriend.”

While you don’t believe Ikkaku is correct in that statement, Law isn’t able to bring himself to move for several minutes, frozen in shock that you decided to kiss his cheek and just run off to bed.

It looks like you’ve got more to talk about than just his past now.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #where you belong #fem!reader #reader insert

484 notes · View notes

keferon · 6 months ago

Note

Any starting resources for someone looking to get into Transformers?

I can’t speak for everyone but if I could time travel this is the list I would give to past me

1 - Transformers Prime. (Great series + basic lore/terms/names introduction for the new fans )

2 - Transformers : More than meets the eye + Transformers : Lost Light (IDW) (Infinitely dramatic gay clownery. Such a gem. 10/10. You need to have at least basic understanding of tf lore and terminology though. This is why I recommend watching “Transformers Prime” first)

3 - You probably have some of those robits as yours favorites at this point. Type “IDW insert name” into google or youtube to find out where to look for more comics with them. Use this image to navigate the timeline chronology so you always know what happens after what. (Don’t try to read everything on that list from the very start in chronological order - you will die of boredom)

4 - Transformers Animated (This series has it’s own version of tf lore that might cause a lot of confusion if you try to read IDW comics after watching it without being already familiar with the basics. That’s what happened to me lmao There’s a lot of primes instead of just one Prime. And Bots and Cons are kind of like two different species or something.)

5 - Transformers Earthspark ( Very good series but you need to have a lot of prior knowledge to fully understand its themes. It’s writers did a great job at showing how much their characters have changed but absolutely forgot to show what they were like before they changed. This is why you need to read comics or watch the other shows first. Earthspark Megatron is redeemed villain but they didn’t show him being a villain. Earthspark Starscream is traumatised but they didn’t fucking show what exactly happened to him, they just expect you to already know. I could write an essay about this lol I need to stop)

6 - Transformers 1986 animated movie. For some reason I really love it. (The reason is Roddy who am I kidding) Maybe also Prime wars trilogy? Cyberverse? Transformers G1? Poke at everything. Have fun.

#maccadam #how tf do I tag this?#idk #the guide for new fans #??#or smth #the guide for me in case I have an amnesia #yea that’s more accura lol

436 notes · View notes

hritika13-tamboli · 10 months ago

Text

Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 2...

°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°

Series :

Day by day || dilf!jungkook x best friend!reader (f) | single dad au || @hansolmates

Summary : a series of drabbles about two best friends raising a child together

Aim for the heart || hitman!jk x female reader | hitman au || @writemywaytoyourheart

Summary : Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Bedeviled || demon!jungkook x female reader | demon au || @writemywaytoyourheart

Summary : Money. Fame. Power. Love. Health. Courage. Strength. Humans will trade their souls for anything, unaware of how their selfish desires will fade away as they do; growing feeble and pathetic, until there's nothing left but the ghost of their youth, cowering in a corner until old age disposes of it. Convincing yourself to go to the Underworld? Easy... Walking through to get something that you've waited many years for, accompanied by a demon that will stop at nothing to make sure your soul belongs to him? Maybe not so much. Making deals with the devil is a tricky business; one you might not have realized could end in something much more painful than death itself if you make a single mistake.

Animal : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 || Boxer Jungkook x Reader | boxer au || @cutaepatootie

Summary : The girl looked at the man who was in his 60s , lying on the hospital bed fighting for his life, he was trying to talk with her “I don’t want to go without telling something.” The girl frown looking at the old man “What do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” “I don’t want to die without telling someone about her,” he says, his voice softening when he says ‘her’. “I don’t want to disappear without the world knowing about her and what she did for me.” “About her?” the girl frowns. Maybe his daughter? His sister? The man turns his head and faces the girl, a soft, distant smile plastered on his lips. The gesture is nostalgic, sad, almost loving. “Y/N,” he murmurs, the name rolling off his lips softly, just as softly as the waves of the sea roll over the sand. “Her name was Y/N.”

Into the woods || goblin jungkook x reader | goblin au || @junqkook

Summary : getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆

One-shot :

The habits of the broken heart || Jungkook x reader | soulmate au || @softykooky

Summary : jungkook and you are soulmates. so says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. however, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak. alternatively, “You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.”

Something in the heir || knight!jungkook x palace woman!reader | non-royalty palace au || @hisunshiine

Summary : The king of your empire will be leaving soon to head off to fight against Soiros, a foreign enemy, and his seven knights of the order of Bangtania will lead the way. One of the seven, Jeon Jungkook, with his dark eyes and easy smile, is someone you long for. Children believe he has slain dragons, and adults think he’s killed over one thousand Soirian soldiers. Everyone thinks he is a heartbreaker, making his way through every unwed wench in the land...but all he wants is you.

Miracle of the season || Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F! reader | angel au | soulmate au || @cybrsan

Summary : Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

Amortentia || Jungkook x reader | hogwarts au || @jungkxook

Summary : jungkook loves everything strawberry but the simple pleasure is always kept hidden, stowed away as if some hideous secret to protect the rumours that had built up around him — until a love potion outs him.

Black magic || human!jk x witch!reader (f) | magic uni! au || @hansolmates

Summary : a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

(Un)crushed || human!jk x witch!reader (f) | magic uni! au || @hansolmates

Summary : you’ve liked jungkook for the longest time, but you believe it’s time to cut the cord—literally

What's wrong? || Jungkook x reader | slice of life!au || @oddinary4bts

Summary : Reader overhears Jungkook talk to his friends and mention how she’s always clinging on to him and doesn’t let him breathe sometimes and that she’s annoying because she’s too loud and energetic. When he comes back home she acts the complete opposite and tries to avoid him without letting him know what’s going on, until he realises that he actually prefers her clingy and loud🥺

High demand || Dealer! Jungkook x Reader || @bunnyhugs77

Summary : modern day Romeo and Juliet

Coin toss ||Jungkook x reader detective | agency au || @yoondoze

Summary : you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

701 notes · View notes

weirdsht · 6 months ago

Note

Hello, a cale x reader lunatic here 😭

They meet a fortune teller pre-relationship and pre-war

They're idiots

FT: you're going to have 10+ kids

Cale: uhh...

Reader: wtf is you spouting? /*Terrified

Ohn, Hong, Raon, and the wolf children: 🫂

Selective Vacuous - Cale/Reader

notes: I made it a 4+1 since I had several scenarios but didn't know how to connect them all hehe

tags: female reader, established relationship (except the first one), reader is mentioned to be a spearman, GoD priestess prophet (it'll make sense in the end), vague to mild novel spoilers

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

“You will meet someone. A male. They will mean the world to you, and will bring you both trouble and comfort.”

“Miss priestess, you’re from the church of the God of Death, right? Don’t you think things like fortunes are for the God of Fate?”

_____ listened to the priestess’ ramblings. Yes, ramblings. Because that does not make sense to the spearman in the slightest. She was already married to her spear. There’s no way someone, especially a man, will suddenly become her whole world.

It just didn’t seem possible possible.

That was why the spearman did not understand the painful feeling in her chest when she saw Cale’s plate breaking. She couldn’t understand why her heart hurt for a person she just regarded as her employer.

“Everything is going to be fine soon young master. So please hold on a little longer.”

She couldn’t understand why her hands were softly wiping the blood on the redhead’s chin. Can’t understand why the sight of her employer in pain makes her heartache when she knows he's going to be alright.

She just can’t understand it.

+~+~+~+~+~+

“You have thirteen children. Whom you all love equally despite not seeing some of them often.”

“Do you think this is an elaborate prank?”

“I’m not sure but this the second time someone from the Church of the God of Death has given me a prophecy…”

“But 13 children? Really? If they're going to try and scam us at least make it sound believable.”

“I can’t even imagine having one child. Let alone more than ten.”

_____ shivered at the thought of having that many children with her significant other Cale. Turns out their chest pains were because she was in love with the redhead.

It took a whopping 5 months for the two of them to realise their feelings.

Another 2 for them to make a move and finally get together.

While the two are already in agreement that the priestess who said that might be a swindler, a certain silver kitten has another opinion.

She thinks that there’s a misunderstanding.

The priestess didn’t say “will have” but rather said “have”, meaning they already have thirteen children. However, she didn’t say anything and opted to keep her thoughts to herself.

'I’m pretty sure that priestess was talking about us and the wolf children…'

+~+~+~+~+~+

“You are destined to be with a powerful man with a very powerful family. Someone whose family has a long history.”

What now?

Does this mean one day _____ and Cale must break up?

“The family with a long history part checks out since the Henituse family are known to guard the Forest of Darkness.”

The spearman puts her hands underneath her chin as she thinks.

“But a powerful man? You have the weakest plate in existence. A powerful family? The Henituse family is a county. Not a Marquisate or a Duchy…”

Besides her Cale grumbled.

“Have you not learned anything? Just tune it out. This isn’t the first time we’ve heard such bullshit.”

“That’s true… I guess this one bothered me a bit since they implied we’d break up.”

“We won’t”

After the reassurance, _____ and Cale went back to eating their food.

What they don’t know is that a few days later, the Henituse County will be promoted to become the Henituse Duchy.

But at that time the prophecy told to _____ is already forgotten.

+~+~+~+~+~+

“Forbidden love is ahead of you. There will be a time where your own significant other will feel uncomfortable to show you affection.”

Great now the fortune teller scammers from that stupid church are targetting Cale too.

“But we’ve had great communication since the start of our relationship.”

Cale nodded in agreement as he thought about what could “forbidden love” and “uncomfortable with affection” could mean.

Sure they weren’t the most PDA couple but they don’t shy away from showing affection towards each other. They have also had their fights but they are always quickly resolved.

“Forbidden love is also a weird thing to say… Oh my god, Cale don’t tell me you’re planning to cheat on me?!”

Cale was so flabbergasted he said his true thoughts without filter.

“What the fuck?! You’re literally the love of my life??”

The sudden confession got the two of them to shut up. Both were shocked at what the redhead said.

“...You’re the love of my life too.”

“If you love me then you would not remind me of the embarrassing thing I said not even 5 minutes ago.”

As the two laugh, the words of the priestess slowly leave their minds.

However, maybe they shouldn’t have forgotten it when Cale had to disguise himself as Naru von Ejellan, a 12-year-old kid in human years. If they did then maybe they'd understand the priestess' words...

+~+~+~+~+~+

“You troublesome punk! I knew you’re dense but I didn’t expect you to be a blockhead!”

Cale was shocked at Team Leader Lee Soo Hyuk’s irritated voice. One moment they were talking about passing on one of the team leader’s abilities then suddenly he was yelling at Cale.

“Don’t look at me like a gaping fish out of water. I did so much to help you with your love life only for you to disregard my messages!”

“What messages..?”

Cale remembered all the times a priestess from the Church of the God of Death had told them a “prophecy”.

“That was you?”

“You disrespectful punk, yes it was me.”

“Oh…”

Oh indeed

244 notes · View notes

trashogram · 9 months ago

Text

He Chose You (Pt. 12)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

(LISTEN… this story has gotten out of control and I need help.)

“It’s alright, child.” Sera’s moods swung round like a revolving door. She could change and bend from someone motherly to a raging Force to an uninvolved observer in a millisecond. “You don’t know any better.”

She reach out and placed a hand on your cheek, perfectly warm and loving in her caress while her eyes remained like flint against the loveliest of features. “Everything has come to pass as it should. You’ll understand in time.”

It made you sick. Your skin grew clammy as an acidic substance shot up your esophagus and your whole body pitched backward to escape.

You would’ve taken hours locked away with that asshole Adam before you stood another minute being condescended to by the Seraphim.

You were sulking, and you knew it, but you couldn’t stop.

The building that you had been taken into to meet Sera in the first place served as some sort of Capital. It was grandiose and reached so high up that you couldn’t see where the damn ceiling ended. Perhaps it didn’t.

You had to take great pains to escape it, navigating among high-ranking angels of all kinds filtering from both the ground and air above you in orderly chaos. It quickened your step to notice that a number of them did a double-take at seeing you.

They resembled different things, just as the angels outside did, although most of them appeared human-like. You wondered briefly if there was a rhyme or reason to it, or if God chose to make the woman you barely avoided running into resemble a moose because it made Him laugh.

Once you’d escaped the war room, you had immediately breathed a little easier. Still, you continued on until you physically felt the tiny shocks and electric currents of warning ebb from your skin. It was as if Sera’s essence had stuck to you, her presence clinging to your frame to make a longer impression.

It had your skin tightening, muscles clenching as a chaotic flood of anxiety and fear prevented you from walking solidly. Too many ‘what if’s’ took you in and out of awareness, making you stumble over nothing.

It had crossed your mind that Emily did not appear before you’d made yourself scarce. A part of you had wondered at that, feeling as though she’d have waited for you out of some concern for your wellbeing.

Perhaps that was all for show, however. Sera was clearly excellent at appearing benevolent, and Emily had looked toward the Seraphim for guidance in front of you. It stood to reason that Emily could also be two-faced.

The logic was sound and yet it made you wince, whether from shame at your incorrect judge or character —

‘Or how much she reminds me of Lucifer.’

You imagined Emily looking at you while stripped of any warmth and compassion. She quickly changed, morphing into Lucifer with hollow, unfeeling red eyes.

It hurt.

—

Panic had you frozen in place a time or two before you’d gained a wide enough berth to stop.

Beforehand you’d walked clouds so polished and flat you’d swear they were glass, amidst the more general population of Heaven with your arms wrapped around yourself. It felt needed when even those outside the Capital looked at you with interest, as if they knew.

Maybe they did. Was it against the rules to keep secrets in Heaven?

“We are literally judges, juries and executioners in Hell.”

“Executioners?”

“What’re you talking about?”

The recollection of a seemingly insignificant moment drew you to a halt. You stared at the pristine ground, fists knocking at your sides. The confusion on your face doubled when you looked up.

Your ‘wide berth’ had led you far away from the crowds of perfectly content angels and their sleek, futuristic buildings. Farther than you’d anticipated, as ahead of you lay a line of trees that thickened into a dense forest.

Like Earth, Heaven had a variety of terrains â€” or so it would seem. Child-like curiosity had you crossing the line between airy openness and into the thicket of pines. All varieties of fir, pine, and larch coexisted with one another, bowing and swaying in the wind. There was nothing to be afraid of, but a sense of oddity hung in the air as you walked a perfectly sculpted path.

The smell of damp earth and lilies rose from the ground at your feet. A warm breeze rustled the hair that hung limply around your face. Birds sung merrily above you, flitting from branch to branch.

It occurred to you that no matter how deep you traveled into the woods, the sunlight never waned.

And yet faintly you heard roaring. It was distant but growing louder with every step you took.

It was not an animal nor man calling out to you from far away. You felt the change as the smell of sap intermingled with that of salt on the wind, and the floor turned from nettles and moss to pale sand.

You rubbed your eyes as the trees parted and seemed to disappear as they revealed a beautiful, sparkling sea.

Sun cast off the surface of the ocean, bouncing against a kaleidoscope of multicolored clouds surrounding it. And you had DejÃ¡ vu before blinking away the flash of purple and honey in your eyes.

You watched tiny waves as they fell against the shoreline, seafoam disappearing within moments. It continued, mesmerizing you, as you ambled toward it. When the water finally rushed over your feet, it carried tiny seashells that scuttled around you. And unlike the ocean you were familiar with, this one was a perfect temperature, no acclimation required.

For the first time since arriving in Heaven, you felt yourself smiling genuinely.

You gave into the urge to squish the wet sand between your toes and waded into the water up to your ankles. Your worries began to wash away with each pull of the tide, slow and steady.

Eventually, you meandered away from that singular spot and began to trek parallel to the shore. The sun never got in your eyes nor did the sand get whipped up and blow into your mouth. Everything from the waves to the breeze was gentle.

As were the eyes that were upon you.

As soon as you felt that stare, you stopped in your tracks. Just the thought of turning to them was daunting.

You don’t have to look, but you do.

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

—

Eve had lingered upon your every step once you’d arrived in her neck of the woods.

She was glad to see that the effects of the beach it hid were enough to soothe you, even if it was more of a distraction than a cure. You deserved something good, even if it was relatively meager compared to everything you’d endured up to this point.

Your figure grew smaller as you crossed the sand, away from the first woman’s hiding spot. You were none the wiser, engrossed in the soothing give and take of the water. It made it easier for Eve to creep up the beach only a few paces away, free to follow your path without ruining your tranquility.

It reminded Eve of a simpler time when she was the one being eyed curiously from afar.

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems, @cherry-cola-100, @pink-apples001, @al-of-the-stars, @backinthefkingbuildingagain, @martinys-world, @alastorssimp, @wobblesthewaffle, @shikiribee, @undertale-anomaly20, @asakura-fangirl-stuff, @ringsofpersonti, @angelicwillows, @wingoodlilboymyway, @cimadreamer, @museofzealoushope, @oneiric-rotaerc, @call-me-nyxx, @darling-angel222, @elementwind91, @bloody-delusion-expert, @martinys-world, @devilslittlebabyxx

Forgive me if I forgot to tag you or the tags don’t work, I don’t know what that keeps happening.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader

365 notes · View notes

goosewriting · 4 months ago

Text

Falling for you - Part 2

summary: part 2 of falling for you, where reader falls into the rottmnt world and comes across the turtle brothers.

relationship: Rise Leo x gn!reader

warnings: none!

word count: 1.7k

A/N: did i totally forget about posting the second part to this? perhaps. did a recent comment remind me of it? could be. was i delighted to find a practically finished version of this in my wips, almost ready to post? absolutely. sorry for the wait, hope you like it!

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Climbing out of bed, Leo silently made his way to the projector room only to find an empty couch.

You were gone without a trace.

Or so he thought.

Turns out, you had gone to the kitchen to get something to drink. You were way too shaken up to sleep after what you pulled. The confession had all kinds of feelings and thoughts going through you, confusing you further.

Leo saw you as you came back into the projector room. You were startled at his presence, almost dropping your glass.

The words from earlier echo in your head: “You are loved. You are worthy. You are a good leader. You are a good brother. And if I am still here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next… I wish for nothing more than to be by your side.” That’s what you had told him. To the turtle, you were a complete stranger. Ugh, you thought, as you tried to will away the embarrassment from your face that was resulting in a weird blush.

“You’re awake,” you said after clearing your throat. Leo didn’t answer immediately, and a slight panic started settling in you.

“Yeah, I’m- I’m just…” he stumbled over his words. “I also came to get a drink.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked.

“Uh-huh…”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you two.

“I heard what you said earlier,” Leo started, and you let out something between a sigh and a snort. With a shaky breath, you approached the couch which was your bed for the night, sitting down.

This is what I get for being so worked up over blorbo feelings, you thought bitterly. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?!

“Can I…?” Leo asked as he stood by the couch.

“Yeah,” you said as you patted the spot next to you.

After he sat down, you just sit there in silence for a moment as you sipped your water, then set down the glass on the little side table.

“I’m guessing you want an explanation, huh,” you decided to start.

“Yeah, uh, what you said was very… specific,” he replied with narrowed eyes.

“Gosh, how do I explain it,” you said, more to yourself than him. “So, uhm…”

You closed your eyes to think of a feasible story, cutting out certain points here and there until you landed on something decent.

“Let’s put it like this,” you started explaining. “I come from a place far away, and I've known about you and your brothers for a long time.”

Leo thought it over for a moment.

“So you’re like, from the future?”

“Something like that, sure.”

“How did you end up here?” he asked after a moment. You sighed.

“To be completely honest, I don't even know. I don't know how to get back, or if I can get back at all. In fact, I don’t know if back in… in my world… if I’m gone there. If everyone I know thinks I just… disappeared. Or if at some point I’ll get back there, appearing in the same moment I left. It will be like nothing happened for the rest. Like at the end of the first Narnia movie, I guess.”

“The narn- what?” Leo questioned with a slight tilt of the head.

“Never mind,” you corrected yourself, and another silence took over. You cast your eyes down to the floor.

“I can’t tell you about certain events and such, but, I bet you have questions so, feel free to ask them,” you offered without looking at him. He thought it over.

“Well, you said–” A slight blush creeped up on his face. “–you said I am loved. And a good brother and leader. Where did that come from?”

You leaned back into the couch, draping your arm over your eyes and smiling at nothing in particular, if only the awkward situation you found yourself in.

“I know you think you’re the funny one of the bunch. Always cracking jokes. Which I think are actually funny, by the way,“ you replied, and your smile faded as you put your arm back down. “But I also know that sometimes you doubt yourself. And I just wanted you to know that… you're on the right track.”

Leo shifted slightly on the couch, and when you looked up, looking for his gaze, he looked away rather uncomfortably. You bit the inside of your cheeks.

“And look, I know this sucks. Some random person you almost ran over suddenly telling you all this. But I legitimately don’t know if I’ll just disappear one moment or the next, so I just wanted you to know.”

“Why though?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“Because I genuinely like you,” you replied without hesitation. Your genuine response caught him by surprise, and he straightened up slightly, but then a little grin spread on his face.

“So, if you’re from the future, it’s like you have a crush on a historical figure and now you’re meeting your hero, right?”

You chuckled.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it.”

His hand came to his chin and he thought something over.

“Maybe we just started on the wrong foot then.”

Folding one of his knees onto the couch so he could sit sideways, facing you, he stretched out his hand.

“Hey, I’m Leo.”

You smiled, taking his hand in yours for the second time that day, and told him your name.

“Delighted to finally meet you,” you added.

“Always happy to meet a fan,” he said with a wink, and you chuckled at his antics.

“If you don’t have any plans tomorrow,” he continued, almost shyly. “Maybe I could take you out for a spin? And show you around the city.”

“I’d love that,” you replied with a warm smile.

“It’s a date then,” he said as he stood up, but realising what he said, he stumbles over his words to try and save it. You raised your hands to calm him down.

“I’m not opposed to the idea,” you offered with a playful shrug.

“Right, well uh. Good night then.”

With that he turned on his heels and left for his bedroom, leaving you all sorts of confused and excited for tomorrow.

– – – – –

The next day, you opened your eyes, blinking a couple of times, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. Remembering the events of the day before, you sat up on the couch, looking around to find yourself still in the lair. You didn’t know if you were relieved or stressed about it.

What if you’d actually never make it back home? Was this your life now, spending the rest of your days in a fictional world?

Standing up with a stretch, you made your way to the kitchen to join the turtles for breakfast. Well, “breakfast”; it was actually already the afternoon. But they’re essentially nocturnal, so you’d have to get used to their circadian rhythm if you were to stay here. The other turtles greeted you normally, so you concluded that Leo hadn’t told them about your conversation. Good. The less they knew, the better.

After some food and light-hearted conversation, Leo took you out around the city as promised. The first thing you did was getting new clothes, then you went for some snacks and sightseeing. By the time you were done, you were both sitting on one of the taller buildings of New York, watching the last sun rays disappear behind the horizon.

Your legs dangled over the ledge, with your chin resting on your arms over the lowest bar of the railing, and you sighed. No matter how much you wanted to enjoy this outing and time spent with Leo the freaking teenage mutant ninja turtle, there was this one thought hovering over your head, like a fly trying to land on your food. No matter how much you kept swatting it away, it just kept coming back.

“What’s on your mind?” Leo asked after a while, already being able to read you like a book.

“I just can’t shake this feeling of… I don’t even know what to call it,” you replied with a sharp exhale. “Just the thought that any given moment, you might turn around, and then poof, I’m gone, you know? I don’t want to just leave like that.”

“I don’t want you to leave either…” he said in a low voice, and you turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Wait, really? You’re not… annoyed by me, barging in like this?”

“No, I mean–” he explained with a lopsided smile. “It’s definitely weird, but it's not a bad weird. It’s like someone finally gets me, really sees me.”

Tilting your head to the side, you leaned your cheek on your folded arms as you looked at him. The half moon markings on his face seemed to glow with the very last drops of sunlight, about to be engulfed by the night and replaced by the moon already peeking out from behind a veil of clouds. The loose straps of his bandana swayed in the breeze, and you were transfixed by this image.

“Yeah, I see you,” you breathed.

For a moment, there was a strange peace that washed over you, like a familiar soothing voice telling you that it’s going to be okay. Leo held your gaze just as transfixed as you, eyes soft, something unreadable reflecting in them.

The turtle was just about to say something when his phone rang. It took him a second to tear his eyes away from you, then he answered the call; it was Donnie, urging him to come back as there had been a break-in and they had to retrieve some sort of artifact.

Your heart quickened, immediately thinking of Hypno and… the worm guy – what was his name again? – stealing the key, and you straightened up.

“We gotta go.” Leo moved to stand up, but you held him down by his arm.

He gave you a quizzical look, and that was when you made up your mind: whatever timeline this was, with or without Casey, you’d make sure that the Krangpocalypse never happened.

You leaned in, placing a quick peck to Leo’s cheek, and his breath hitched.

“Hey, you got this,” you said with a reassuring smile.

He got up to his feet and helped you up as well, holding onto your hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Will you stay?,” he asked, uncharacteristically shy, blush evident, peeking from under his mask. “With me?”

You gave his hand a squeeze back.

“As long as this universe will allow it.”

– – – – –

A/N2: just to clarify, i know the worm is called warren stone, i just wanted to keep the running joke that no one notices him lol

= = = = =

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] i took the liberty of not only tagging those in the taglist for leo but also everyone in the comments of the first part. hope you’re still interested in this one! and if not, feel free to ignore the tag sdfasdfg

@theoriginalmintyyyshake, @dybynyght, @lieutenantlashfaz, @galaxtic-writings, @Lovestruckfictionadict, @salty-s-r, @sleebykei, @miso-sopas, @duckanon, @wings-of-sapphire, @ashtheboookworm2, @xxnoxx, @crystal-crax, @lunaramune, @luckynesser, @rowaaaaan || @mocchamck, @warrior-girl, @moroneur, @powerauerart, @soulaansugar, @xnorthstar3x, @leafyturtle, @justmare, @the-cute-witchy-writier

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt leo x reader #leonardo x reader #rise leo x reader

182 notes · View notes

pretzel-box · 5 months ago

Note

Hiya! Im the anon that requested fir male reader that’s similar to Sebastian which was LOVELYYYY 10000000/10!

Now i have two ideas (?) You know that meme where we’re in his shop and out of no where either a baby wall dweller or a mini Sebastian pops up crying and he asks us if we wanna buy it? WELLL

1.) Male Experiment Reader that’s similar to Sebastian is roaming around the facility since we’re his assistant and find a baby experiment that’s like him and Sebastian

2.) An expendable stumbles upon an area deep within the facility with Male reader that is one of Sebastian’s sibling in a pod that is a completely different monster

3.) Another idea is that we’re pretty much chill with every single entity in the facility and Sebastian is beyond confused

These are just little ideas I came up during with! Also love your octoboy fics! Also could I be 🍀 anon? Have a good day, night, or afternoon!

Tags: Can be read as GN reader! Reader being besties with entities/j

Words: 1k

Authors Note: Ofc! Welcome 🍀 Anon!! ♡

Sebastian leaned against the wall of his dimly lit shop, tapping one of his arms against the rough surface. His fluorescent blue eyes scanned the shelves stacked with scavenged goods, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about you.

You, with your impossibly calm demeanor, even in the darkest corners of the facility. It wasn’t the most comforting place to be—a labyrinthine nightmare filled with creatures most people couldn’t begin to understand. Yet somehow, you navigated it all with an almost baffling nonchalance.

The chime of the shop vent opening interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see you stroll in, as casual as ever. Your relaxed gait was at odds with the usual tension that gripped everyone who set foot in the shop. You were different, though, and Sebastian still couldn’t wrap his head around it, trying to make sense of your weird behaviour.

“Hey, Seb,” you greeted, sliding onto one of the stools at the counter. “Found a new stash of batteries in Door 30. Thought you might like some.”

Sebastian blinked his three eyes at you, still trying to fathom how you could be so calm. “Yeah, thanks,” he replied, taking the batteries from you. “But… you were at Door 30? Alone?”

You shrugged, a lazy grin spreading across your face. “Yeah. I mean, it’s just Pandemonium’s turf, right? No big deal.” You waved it off, seemingly unbothered.

Sebastian nearly dropped the batteries. “Pandemonium?” he echoed, his voice a mix of disbelief and concern. “And you’re just… standing here, like you didn’t almost get torn apart?”

You chuckled, leaning back against the wall, watching the shopkeeper. “Oh, Pandemonium? Yeah, it showed up. Big creepy shadow thing, right? It did that whole ‘screaming at the top of its lungs’ bit, tried to smash through a wall, but I just told it to chill out.”

Sebastian’s mouth fell open. “You… told Pandemonium to ‘chill out’? And it worked?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you said, still smiling. “It just kind of… stopped, you know? I don’t think it’s used to people not freaking out. Then it slunk back into the darkness.”

Sebastian shook his head, still trying to process your words. “I don’t get it. Every other person who’s seen Pandemonium has barely made it out alive, and you’re just… hanging out with it?”

You chuckled again. “I wouldn’t say we’re hanging out. More like… coexisting. Besides, it’s not just Pandemonium. Ran into Angler, too.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened even further. “Angler? The one that rushes through the room and kills people left and right?!”

You nodded, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “Yep. Caught me off guard at first, but I just told it I wasn’t looking for an fight and that I just wanted to see what it was all about. It seemed confused at first, but after a while, it just swam off.”

Sebastian leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “You’re telling me… that Angler, the creature that literally lures people to their deaths, just left you alone because you weren’t looking for an fight?”

“Pretty much,” you replied, a grin still plastered on your face. “I guess they’re not used to people who don’t want to run away or fight them.”

Sebastian stared at you, a mixture of admiration and bewilderment in his eyes. “How do you do it?” he finally asked. “How are you so… calm around them?”

You shrugged. “I dunno, man. I guess I just don’t see the point in being scared all the time. They’re just doing their thing, you know? And as long as you don’t get in their way, they’re not that bad.”

Sebastian shook his head, still unable to fully comprehend your attitude. “You’re one of a kind, you know that?”

You chuckled, leaning back on the stool. “Maybe. But I think you’re just as unique, Seb. Not many people would run a shop in a place like this, selling supplies to people who barely make it out alive.”

Sebastian smirked, finally relaxing a bit. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But someone’s got to do it.”

The two of you shared a quiet moment, the tension in the shop easing into something almost like camaraderie. For once, Sebastian felt like maybe there was some sense to this strange, chaotic world. At least, as long as you were around.

Just then, a low growl echoed from the front of the shop on the other side of the vent, and the shadows seemed to stretch and writhe. Sebastian tensed, his tail flicking in anticipation. “Looks like we’ve got company,” he muttered.

But you just grinned, standing up and cracking your knuckles as you prepared yourself for another monster interaction. “Relax, Seb. It’s probably just Pandemonium again. I’ll handle it.”

Sebastian watched as you casually walked toward the vent and the shifting shadows, his three eyes following your every move. Despite everything he had seen, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of calm watching you. Maybe, just maybe, your way of looking at things wasn’t so crazy after all.

As the shadows closed in, you held up a hand and spoke in that calm, easygoing tone of yours. “Hey, Pandemonium, long time no see. How about we keep things chill today, yeah?” Your voice wasn't hesitating at all and Sebastian could hear how chill you were about the whole thing as if it's a natural thing to tell your death reason to chill out for a day.

The growling seemed to subside, and the shadows stopped moving, as if considering your words. Sebastian shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. Maybe there was more to this place than just danger and fear. Maybe, with you around, there was even room for a little peace.

“Unbelievable,” Sebastian muttered to himself, not able to believe it and yet still smiling. “Absolutely unbelievable.”

And as he watched you stand there, unafraid and unfazed, he couldn’t help but feel just a little bit safer, knowing you were on his side.

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace fanfic #roblox pressure #pressure

185 notes · View notes

eevees-hobbies · 5 months ago

Note

Hello! 1. your writing is AMAZING and 2. Sorry for this long request.

Can I request experienced!Reader x virgin!Sakura smut (or you can make it that he doesn't have that much experience as the reader). Sakura and the reader have always done things like heavy makeout sessions and him receiving bjs. He starts to feel bad because he hasn't eaten her out yet and he doesn't want to disappoint her, she always tells him to take things at his pace and that she will always be there for him when he's ready to take things further. So he asks the guys for advice on how to eat her out and then during movie date night at her place he's acting more flustered/nervous than usual and she notices. He then confesses that he wants her to feel pleasure to and that the reason why he hasn't done it yet is because he doesn't want to disappoint her but he wants to try and eat her out. You can have them go all the way after or just leave it at that. I'll be happy either way😊😊. Thank you in advance!!!

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your kind words! This was fun to write and I hope you enjoy this. I’ll always enjoy writing for Haru, so this request was very much appreciated.

Synopsis: Sakura loves the fuck out of you, so maybe that’s why he’s asking his friend, Hayato Suo, to help him get better at initiating oral sex. Totally normal things happen to an orange, but it’s all worth it in the end, right?

Content Warning: experienced!FemReader x inexperienced!Sakura. defiling of fruit, sexual education in a public place, pray (and perform a wellness check) for Suo’s girlfriend, dirty talk, insecure Sakura, harmless teasing, use of pet name baby girl, cocky Sakura makes an appearance at the end (because I can’t help myself), I curse a lot in my writing, cunnilingus, fingering, brief p in v. I’m on my usual bullshit, but at least the writers block is gone! Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 3.1K

Story banner by me. Dividers by Firefly Graphics. As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

“The first time we held hands, I thought my head would explode.”

“I see. Go on…”

“The first time we made out, I….” Sakura looks away, a crimson blush making its way past the collar of his white tee and up his neck. “I could hear my heart beating in my ears or somethin’ cliche like that.”

Suo couldn’t help but feel the corner of his mouth twitch upward at his inexperienced friend’s confession. Still, he knew better than to poke at Sakura. He was attempting to be supportive, and supportive friends don’t tease their friends during bouts of insecurity—much. When Suo had received a text message from Sakura the night before indicating that he had an urgent request, he knew he had to temper his usual faux-cheerful demeanor and provide his friend with whatever he needed.

But he wasn’t expecting this conversation.

Sakura shifts uncomfortably in the booth across from Hayato, his eyes now darting down to his knuckles, which always seem permanently purple and red with bruises and fresh knicks. “And the first time she….you know…”

Suo’s eyebrow quirks up, expecting Sakura to elaborate further, but he doesn’t. To prompt Sakura to continue, Suo clears his throat and carefully navigates the next sentence, “I don’t really know what you mean, Sakura. Care to be a bit more specific?”

Sakura lets out a frustrated scoff, but he knows that if he wants Suo to help him, he’s going to need to give him details—details that he had fully intended to always go to the grave with.

“The first time she gave me head…”

The cup of tea that Suo was bringing up to his lips shakes ever so slightly, but he offers a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and provides a supportive nod.

“Oh?”

Sakura sighs, figuring it’s too late to hold back now; he dives into the issue, ready to be judged at best, and laughed out of the restaurant at worst. “The first time she gave me head, I swear to fuckin’ god, if there is a god, I fell in love. But she’s always….doing stuff to me, and I haven’t done much for her.”

Suo nods, places his cup of tea down, and looks thoughtfully at his friend. “Sounds like you’d like to return her…kind gestures.”

Sakura runs a hand through his hair and nods, “Yeah, that’s it. I want to do stuff to her instead of her doing stuff to me, but I don’t know how to-”

“Initiate?”

“Sure.”

The silence that settles between the two is deafening. Sakura shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and Suo can’t help but look at his friend with sympathetic eyes. Usually, he’s the first one to tease Sakura, especially involving his relationship with you, but this feels different. Suo’s eyes wandered to an orange currently serving as a garnish on the small plate of untouched Omi Rice Sakura had ordered. “May I?’

Sakura shrugs, unsure what he plans to do with a piece of fruit. Doesn’t he see that he’s in crisis and Vitamin C can wait?

Suo grabs a knife and cuts the citrus down the middle, exposing the soft center. Discarding one half, he holds up the other to curious, dual-colored eyes. “Do we need to go over the basics of female anatomy? Like the labia and clitoris?”

Sakura sputters as he hears his friend say words he’s only heard you—his girlfriend—say. His eyes dart to the nearest escape route, but Suo's firm kick under the table brings his attention back to the scene in front of him. Sakura looks away in frustration and gives a curt nod, indicating that, at the very least, he could point to certain parts of your body and identify them.

He wasn’t THAT far gone.

Suo nods, “Well, I’d say the battle is half-won, then. Let’s talk about what women like, shall we?”

Suo brings a finger up to the center of the orange where the small opening glistens with droplets of juice that are now dripping languidly down his fingers. The scene before Sakura is practically obscene, and the irony of Suo using fruit for his sexual education lesson that looks similar to your intimate area does not fly over his head, even though he wishes it did.

As Suo points to the plump center, his finger gently strokes the small hole. “Some people immediately think it’s a good idea to force their fingers in with little thought to foreplay, but that’s crude, hostile, and not the trait of a good partner. In fact, bullying your fingers in could very well hurt her, so I personally like to take a few hours to get my girlfriend aroused.”

Hours?! Sakura doesn’t think he can come near being the type of libido-beast that Suo is. He briefly gives a silent prayer for his friend's partner but leans in nonetheless to listen intently.

“Now, the tip of your tongue can be rather overstimulating at first, so remember that the clitoris deserves to be kissed, too. Your lips are your ally.”

Sakura swallows thickly as he tunes in and watches his friend defile an orange in Cafe Pothos. As his cheeks burn, his fingers twitch, and his cock hardens as Suo goes into great detail about how much pressure the clitoris can take. Sakura can’t help but think that he must be absolutely, horrendously down bad for you to deal with this shit.

“I can’t BELIEVE she was Lady Whistledown this entire time!”

You reach for the remote to select the next episode of Bridgerton, but a lack of response from Sakura, who is sitting on the couch next to you, causes you to look over. You can sense that what you just said didn’t register because he seems lost in thought, his thumb placed between his upper and lower canines as he chews on the skin aggressively.

“Kitten?” You turn your entire body to face him, worry already etching across your face.

His eyes look up at you, and the faraway look quickly dissipates as he gives you a grunt.

“You’ve been distracted all night. Should we head to bed, or can we talk about it?” You offer him a gentle smile, hoping the bond you share will be stronger than any secret he may be keeping from you. You watch as he visibly swallows, his adam’s able bobbing as he turns to you, and he lowers his now mangled thumb to rest in his lap. The way he avoids eye contact, the way the air now feels somewhat stale with unspoken words, has your breathing slowing and you preparing to hear the worst.

“Let me…eat you out.”

You blink once, twice, and then several more times as you stare at each other. You place a gentle hand on his knee, and your confused eyes meet his vulnerable ones. “Sakura, what the absolute fuck?”

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. You can see a pout practically form on his lips as he fights the urge to end the conversation. But Sakura is a man on a mission, and he continues. You have to lean in to hear what he mumbles but as his mouth moves, you realize you heard him clearly the first time. “You give me head almost every day. I’m tired of not reciprocating.”

Everyday, Sakura? Let’s be real. Sure, you like giving your boyfriend head but your jaw isn’t permanently attached to his cock. You give him a blank stare before responding and trying to keep your voice light and without a hint of sarcasm–and god, you REALLY want to be sarcastic right now but you’re a good girlfriend.

“Sakura, our relationship isnt about keeping score, especially in regards to our intimacy. I don’t count how many blowjobs I give you,” you pause as you realize you just spoke a lie. “Well, maybe I do count, but only because I have an ego, and I’m trying to beat a number I set in my head.”

Sakura’s eyes squint and he holds back the urge to ask further questions about your perverted personal goals. “That’s so weird. Anyway, it isn’t about any of that. I want to do it. I think about doing it a lot.”

You tilt your head to the side, your ear facing him a bit more because did your boyfriend, the one who was emotionally stunted when you met him, admit to fantasizing about you? “You think about eating me out? Say more, please.”

“Fuuuuuck, why are you so-. Fine! I think about it when you’re on the couch with your legs spread–I mean, sure, it isn’t lady-like–but it’s hot and I think about just getting on my knees and…”

“I might pop you for the lady-like comment but I’ll refrain because you made me tingle.”

“Shut up and…spread your legs.”

You purse your lips, stifling a giddy giggle at your boyfriend using his stern voice. You shimmy out of your sleep shorts and throw them haphazardly to a corner to be forgotten about until who-knows-when.

Putting on a brave front, and as though he’s done this many times before, Sakura rises from the couch and perches himself between your legs with his knees firmly placed on the plush rug on the floor.

You bite your lip—his gaze is unyielding and smoldering. You aren’t surprised at how hot your face is getting under his stare; it’s almost enough to make you clamp your legs shut and call the whole thing off, but you couldn’t if you wanted to as his hands, which are placed firmly against your inner thighs, grip you like you’re being held open in stirrups.

“It's nothing like an orange…”

“A what!?”

Before you can say anything and before you can back out, Sakura is leaning forward, his breath is hot and fanning against your labia. For some reason, you need to look anywhere but at the top of his head as his tongue slips past your folds and swirls small circles around your clit. His hesitancy is palpable, making you a bit insecure until he pulls back, an earnest but determined look in his eyes, “Am I doing ok? Does this feel…right? I’m trying to imagine an orange, but it’s completely different.”

Weird recurring comments about oranges aside, you realize he’s not hesitant because of you. He’s hesitant because he’s worried that he isn’t doing a good job. He’s hesitant because, above all else, Haruka will always desire to impress and please you, and anything less is unacceptable to him. His inexperience has always been a non-issue for you, but to him, it’s a crutch and another way he feels like he doesn’t deserve you.

Your gaze softens and you give him an encouraging smile. “You’re doing amazing, Kitten.”

The corner of his mouth twitches upward and with a dignified nod, he dives back between your thighs. Your praise fuels his desire to please you—and that fire burns bright, and the cautious licks before are replaced with suckles and tongue swipes that are far more confident.

Your head falls back to rest against the cushiony headrest of the couch. Your hand finds the back of his head and pushes him in further, encouraging him to get lost in you and risk drowning. Sakura doesn’t mind the threat of suffocation as he considers it a worthy way to go. Still, he thinks you’re getting a little too cocky, and humbling you is his favorite pastime, so the gesture earns a playful nip to your thigh from Haruka, which in turn makes you giggle.

“Can’t you be serious for once? I’m trying to eat you out down here.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Kitten.” Despite your snarky come-back, you give him an encouraging moan that’s brought upon by open-mouthed kisses against your clit. Sakura willingly entwines his long fingers with yours, his thumb tenderly stroking the inside of your palm.

His other hands grips the plush of one of your thighs and pushes them forward, pressing them against your stomach and allowing himself the unbridled access he craves to get as deep as his tongue will reach. His licks become far more aggressive as he takes the time to map out your cunt through eager exploration. He commits every one of your sinful moans and gasps to his memory and revels in the way in which you get increasingly louder for him.

Each one of your cries makes his cock twitch, and he finds himself having to adjust himself in his jeans. The scent of you, the sound of you, is simply intoxicating. You, to Haruka Sakura, are everything and then some. Your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s going to take that fact out on your cunt which is growing increasingly more sloppy just for him.

Something that felt intimidating only hours ago now feels natural to Sakura as he drags his tongue across your clit, smirking as he feels it swell and twitch under the assault of his muscle.

“You’re dripping for me. We might need a new couch after I’m done with you.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes because fuck, why is he so-oh! Yeah, that’s the spot. You nod in agreement as you spread your legs wider to give him better access. “Y-yeah, a trip to IKEA is definitely in the future, I think.” Without little to no warning, he pushes two fingers into you so deeply that his knuckles kiss your entrance. Haruka’s fingers curl, and the sound of him twisting them inside you makes a lewd, wet sound, the kind that would make anyone blush.

The pads of his fingers rub against the bundle of nerves deep within your aching sex. Sakura lets out a satisfied grunt as he strokes the spongy bundle of ridges. He doesn’t need an orange to see that this is what you like, all he needs to do is look down at the way your toes curl or watch as your eyes roll back and you bite into the plush of your bottom lip.

“Holy fuckin’…just relax for me. Don’t act like we haven’t been here before, at least.”

You let out a pathetic whimper, the sensation of being filled up almost threatening to push you over the edge, and he fucking knows it. He’s doing this on purpose, stroking you like this, making you more sensitive than you already are as you drip into the palm of his hand.

You look down to give him a glare, but you can’t help the squeak that leaves your lips—his intense gaze is set on you and threatening to light you ablaze. He stands up so that he’s kneeling over you, his face mere inches from yours, as he continues to push and pull his fingers in and out of your fluttering sex.

“Look at you….a fuckin’ mess. Look me in my eyes while you use my fingers to get off.” His eyes are scanning your face in predatory reverence, they flicker down to your lips as you let out a low guttural moan. “That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me.”

Your heart palpitates dangerously as he uses a pet name that feels so intimate you want to melt into the couch. Your bottom lip quivers as you begin to buck your hips to meet the motion of his fingers, but it’s hard to keep up when he’s finger fucking you like he owns every inch of your cunt.

“Tch, what are you trying to prove by holding out?” His lips ghost against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, his tongue darting out to lick and suckle at the sensitive flesh.

“You’re practically milking my fingers right now. You like every single inch that I give you, don’t you? You get so hungry for just a touch.” His voice is husky, his words only making you ache and arch more as the cocky, ex-Bofurin leader goads you on.

His mouth finds its way to the curve of your neck as he presses his lips against your quickened pulse. The proximity and gesture feels tender until you feel his teeth sinking into your skin, sending a delicious, searing pain shooting through your very being. “Cum like a good girl so I can bend you over this fuckin’ couch.” His voice is hoarse and coursing with his desire for you, and he’s not asking you to let go for him, he’s demanding it.

Your face, despite being contorted into pleasure, heats up because who the fuck talks like that?

Haruka Sakura does.

You groan, pressing the palm of your hand against the nape of his neck and pull him forward so you can give him the physical and verbal praise he seeks–your moans fill his mouth and your hips grind against his hand to roll out your orgasm in desperation. He eagerly presses his palm against your clit, adding more pressure to the sensitive bud that takes your breath away as he continues his curling, pushing, and pulling of his fingers.

You let out a final moan into his mouth and the smirk that forms on his lips as they press against yours does not go unnoticed. You haven’t realized it, or maybe you have, but at that moment, you created a monster. He now knows you better than he ever did and will use it against you every chance he can. He may be unable to commit to hours of foreplay, but he can guarantee that every second in which he’ll have you spread open for him will have you looking at him exactly as you’re looking at him right now. He’s committed to your pleasure moving forward and makes absolutely no apologies for it.

“Theeeeere she goes. Now was that so hard?” Your half-lidded gaze meets his arrogant and pleased one as he pulls away, his hands already moving to unbutton his jeans. “Guess I’ll start to keep a number in my head to beat now, too.”

You don’t have time to react before he’s turning you around and positioning so that you're offering yourself up to him and he’s adjusting himself between your spread legs.

And Sakura is truly pleased with himself as he places a hand on your lower back to steady you as he slides into your welcoming warmth. His eyes roll back because you fit him sooooo fucking well. Like a goddamn glove, and fuck, you feel even better with his saliva dripping out of you.

Who the fuck needs store-bought lubricant when you could just produce your own with spit? Moving forward, Sakura fully intends to put Astroglide out of business.

As the loud squelches and airy sounds of his cock spreading you in half fills the air, Sakura reflects on how he got here.

He can’t help but give a mental thanks to the orange that made this all possible–and he guesses, also Suo, but mostly the orange.

#wind breaker #windbreaker smut #anon ask #anon #request fill #sakura haruka x reader #haruka sakura #sakura x reader #sakura smut #sakura hakura #request

201 notes · View notes

tastesousweet · 1 year ago

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (vi) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : y/n can only deflect her crush on matt for so long

warnings : smut, banter/cuteness, angst at the end

mickey speaks : sooooooo. yeah. enjoy! (also i imagine lucas as luka sabbat)

THIS IS PART SIX GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLS

“I’M kind of hungry though,” you groan as you stand in front of your open and very bare (besides two scrawny carrots and a few of andrea’s energy drinks) fridge, pouted mouth and limp wrist holding your phone to your ear.

“i’m sure you are, you always seem to be fucking hungry,” matt’s attitude laces into his comment’s comedic undertone.

“don’t be mean,” you close the fridge and begin to look through the many cabinets in your kitchen that are somehow just as bare. “how the fuck are we completely out of food?!”

“ask your fuckin- move out of the way! go! now, move!” matt’s voice cuts into a rage as his attention directs to the cars around him, who he’d debate the validity of their drivers licenses.

his loudness has you pulling your phone away from your ear to let him finish, then bring it back towards you, “hey, let’s use our inside voices when on the phone with someone…” you smile at your own joke as you dig through a never ending junk drawer for a pen.

“hmm let’s go to the grocery store more often so we’re not having our sneaky link take us to eat,” his comeback is as quick as his lane switching.

“well you sure know how to make a girl feel special,” your sarcasm spews as you begin to write out a list for a much needed grocery trip with andrea tomorrow.

“what are you hungry for?” he speaks over the chimes of his turn signal.

“i don’t know,” you mumble clearly not too focused on figuring out what you’d like to eat.

“what’re you doing right now?” he asks.

“nothing,” you say while biting your inner cheek trying to remember the specific brand of orange juice that andrea recently discovered she prefers.

“okay, i’m pulling up in like five, figure out where you wanna go.”

“please?” you question where his manners are among the frequent demands he throws at you.

“mhm, that too.” he half-asses an agreement, “bye.”

you drop your pen and respond with a quick ‘bye’ before hanging up the phone and tucking it into your purse along with your keys.

౨ৎ

matt's car smells of warm citrus and eucalyptus, in contrast to the coolness of the air he currently has blowing. you glance over to him once you're settled into the leather passenger seat, giving you a view of his soft side profile and torso covered with one of his many black hoodies (as if california temperatures weren’t currently at their highest) that fit his figure well, as he focuses on adjusting his hair in the pull down mirror.

the only light source in the car comes in the soft, off-white lighting synced to the mirror, that shines just enough for you to see his full smirk and head shake when you joke, “got someone to look good for?”

he mutters a light, “barely,” before placing the mirror back against the ceiling and changing gears smoothly. “your babysitter didn’t question you?”

you shake your head and begin to buckle your seatbelt, “no, she’s out with some coworkers for a drink. what about yours?”

“didn’t even notice i left.” he shrugs then gestures to the navigation screen that’s now dimly lit, “where do you wanna eat?” your silence speaks volumes to him, “how'd i just know you'd pull this shit? i told you to have it figured out by the time you got in the car!” he groans and looks over to you.

you try to hide a smile due to his irritance, “okay, and what if i just don’t know, matt?!” your hands turn and face the ceiling to show the genuine unsureness of your appetite.

“then, you must not be that hungry,” he shrugs.

you redirect your eyes from him to the road in front of you, “i miss when you were quietly mean, now you’re all obnoxious and loud about it.”

a smirk finds its way to matt's face as he continuously looks from you to the road until you finally look back over to him. “sorry, that was also mean. i don’t hate when you talk, even though you’re rude as fuck.”

matt laughs off the apology he wasn't even seeking from you, “jesus, i wasn't gonna cry over it.”

your stomach is weeping and begging for you to pick a place to eat at this point causing you to lean your head against the window (though you find the vibrations from the motor and awkward dips from the road make the position more uncomfortable than anything) and eye the blurs of brightly lit, primary colored signs. it becomes a little dizzying but eventually slows as matt eases on the brakes.

during the brief pause you take time recognize your surroundings more and just as matt starts to go through the intersection, a breath gets caught in your throat when you spot a small local store you remember going to with remi for lunch a few months back, “wait!”

matt slams on his brakes with a sudden look of fear in his eyes, rocking the both of you far forward then slamming you back into the seats. his face turns to frustration when you laugh a little and ask, “can we stop at that bodega right there?” while pointing out the window.

he raises a hand in view of his back windshield to apologize to the person behind him as he speeds off again and scolds you, "do you have any fucking etiquette?"

"oh wow, that’s a big word for you, matt!" you celebrate. he then takes a sharp turn into the rural parking lot, making you grip the side door as you jump along with the car.

you watch as he easily parks the car and turns off the ignition with a huff, "i doubt some convenience store snacks are gonna hold you over, but whatever."

"never doubt a small local market, this place has a bomb ass hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop and you wouldn’t even know." you defend while opening the car door.

౨ৎ

you lead matt inside while he unashamedly stares at how your hips move as you walk- your skin naturally exposed due to your low waisted lounge pants and small tank top (which makes him want to do nothing more than squeeze, lick, and kiss the area).

you greet the bored cashier the way you tend to greet anyone: as if you know them, and make your way to the back side of the store, the smell of toasted bread gaining potence in the air as you approach.

matt continues to follow as he glances around the very average looking store, with aisles of typical name-brand foods and drinks.

you stop near a bulletin board with a makeshift menu and read over each option. when matt gets closer to you, you feel the need to explain yourself as if it wasn't clear enough, "'m tryin' to figure out what i want."

he only replies with an "mhm," as he focuses on options for himself.

you both take turns separately ordering and paying for food (of course you had to tease him for making it seem as though you being hungry was such a hassle) and find a small table to sit at.

you fiddle with the table caddy, "watch. this will be the best sandwich of your life."

matt sits opposite of you, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, "better be. you had me driving crazy to get to this place."

"i said i was sorry about that!" you dramatically remind him of the apology you gave him when you two initally walked up to the store.

“order for y/n?” the same man (with a heavy east coast accent) you ordered from peeks his head out.

you send matt a smile before getting up and walking over to the window, “thank you so much, it smells amazing.” you compliment.

“‘course and, uh, we’ve got that second order ready as well if you want to take it over,” he offers.

“yeah, i’ll go ahead and take it.” you take the wrapped and acronym-labeled sandwiches in each hand, thanking him once more before beginning to walk over to the table.

“oh how sweet are you? bringin’ my sandwich to me and shit,” matt chuckles as he runs his tongue over his teeth casually.

“a ‘thank you’ would’ve been more than enough,” you take your seat again. the shuffles of wax paper wrapping and distant chimes of the bell near the entrance is the only noise surrounding both of you for your first few bites.

you pause eating to ask, “how’s your sandwich?” you direct your sandwich towards him as both of your hands are occupied in holding said sandwich.

he covers his mouth with a fist as he finishes chewing, nodding his head to give away his answer. he’s not really one to eat for flavor alone so his answer is mediocre, “yeah, it’s good. yours?” he questions while going in for another bite.

“so amazing,” you draw out and jokingly moan into your next bite.

matt’s face scrunches and he can’t wait until the food is out of his mouth to deliver his comment, “gross, just eat your food without all the effects.”

you put up your index finger so that you can swallow before replying, “you really have the nerve to say that through the shit ton of food in your mouth?”

he shrugs and gives a sarcastic smile with his cheeks bunched out and full of his sandwich.

you take a sip of your diet coke before asking, “‘kay, so what’d you do today?” you’re just generally curious and admittedly not the best at being quiet or reserved when around other people.

matt sighs, “you know…talking really takes away the point of this.”

“oh my god, answer the question. don’t be unfun, matt.”

“’m just tryin' to eat,” he laughs through his nose.

“okay, then i’ll go first but you still have to tell me about your day after,” you decide.

“fine,” matt uses a napkin to wipe his mouth a little.

“well, i woke up so fucking early today, i had to get to work by like 5:30 to start helping with an order of six cakes. luckily we prepped a lot the day before and carmen is like the best coworker to have to do that long shift with.”

“six cakes? for one order?”

“yeah, it was for a family reunion and they called about some dietary restrictions for certain cakes plus the different flavors- just shit to make our job harder. but love my job regardless, and the woman who picked them up looked so happy,” you take another sip of your drink, “but after that i went home and basically napped until you called.”

“this is the first thing you’re eating today?” he doesn’t care too much that you haven’t eaten today, rather uses it as an excuse to get you to continue eating so the you both can leave (or maybe this is just what he tells himself).

“i mean i ate some boiled eggs whenever i had down time at work, but yeah i guess.”

“and look at you, wasting your time yappin’ instead of eating. there’s truly no helping you,” he shakes his head slowly back and forth in faux disappointment.

you ignore him, “okay, your turn.” his eyebrows pinch and he takes a sip of his drink, telling you he won’t be answering if you don’t start to eat, “look! i’m eating,” you take a bite to prove yourself.

“right…uhh what did i do today?” he looks up in memory. “i tatted some guy’s face earlier, i guess that was a bit intense.”

“um, yeah that’s intense, what’d he get?!”

“the outline of peru above his cheekbone." matt circles the area on his own face, "it was actually really sentimental; he told this whole story about his mom immigrating here from peru.“

“that's so sweet. did he say why he wanted it on his face?”

matt shrugs, “he wanted to try somewhere he hasn’t before.”

you nod, “and was this your first face tat?”

“no, i’ve done a few before, just haven’t in a while.” matt leans back and scratches the back of his neck to stretch. “ever since i posted that pic of your tat i’ve been booked by all theses girls who want cartoon designs, now nick’s pissed i’m stealing his clientele since ‘it’s his specialty.’”

“well my hello kitty is precious so i can't blame them." you pause, "are you fucking these girls too?” you look at matt before you begin to giggle to yourself and take your final bite.

matt’s eyes widen and he lets a small laugh escape, “no, that kinda luck can only come so often. and how slutty would i be to hookup with all of my clients?” though he wouldn’t call you strictly a client anymore- but he doesn’t correct it since he’s unsure if the two of you are necessarily friends either.

“one: don’t hype yourself too much, two: there’s nothing wrong with being a slut, matt. you should embrace your nature.” you smile before gesturing to his last bit of sandwich and mocking, “catch up now, you’ve been doing all that talking and no eating! i'm starting to lose hope.”

౨ৎ

"matt, where the fuck are we?" you raise yourself up a little to look around. you’re parked in a large city center parking lot with few cars and dimming street lights.

“shhh, sit down.” he absentmindedly calms you, speaking in a low voice while typing on his phone. you lean back into your seat, bored enough that you opt to watching your hands rise and fall with your stomach as you breathe.

he continues tapping at the screen for the entirety of the next song, making you grow impatient and confused. is he expecting you to make the first move right now? did he bring you here to have sex? who the fuck is he texting?

you move yourself closer to him so that your elbows rest against the center console and hold your head up. "matt," you whisper.

he doesn't answer but you notice his eyebrows are furrowed and angled.

"matt," you repeat and guide your hand up his arm, firmly squeezing his shoulder.

"mm?" he looks over to you for a second, then out the windshield before his eyes fixate on his phone once more.

"what'd you bring me here for...?" your voice is laced with intentional seduction as your hand moves back down his arm to play with the slim silver bracelet hanging on the wrist of his occupied hand.

"y/n, hold on," somehow his voice is just as distracted as his eyes.

you pout, "can you, like, look at me?" you see him picking at the skin of his lip, only looking at you when your hair falls in front of his phone as you lean to press your lips to the hand you've been messing with.

he moves his hand to capture your bottom lip softly between his thumb and the side of his index finger, finally giving in with a small “yeah?”

before you get a word out a few taps hit matt’s window making both of you flinch and pull back. you’re so caught off guard and feel exposed in a way after having your face so close to matt’s lower half. you’re nervous as to why someone would randomly come to matt’s window, until matt willingly lowers it.

you move your head to the side to get a better view of the lanky man with deep caramel skin and arched dimples that pop when he speaks, “yooo, matt! what’s up?” they dap each other up through the open window.

“fucking finally,” matt sighs with a laugh.

he kisses his teeth, “look i got your shit right here. have some faith in me, brother.” he leans to grab a small bag from one of his cargo pant pockets as matt reaches for his sleek black wallet.

you try to keep yourself leveled and not ask a million questions about this whole predicament, but you’re feeling quite left out.

matt carelessly grabs the plastic bag from the guy while he continues to sift through his wallet with only one hand, before handing you the bag without even looking your way. once it’s in your hand you use the light of your phone to get a better look, noticing the unground weed in the bag. you scrunch your face and place it in your lap.

you don’t pick up on much of matt’s conversation until you’re brought up, “who’s your friend?” the guy leans further onto the car.

“no one you’d need to know,” matt shrugs, pulling out a few unscathed bills and handing them with a smile.

you squint your eyes at the insult to your existence he's implied calling you ‘no one,’ before reaching over matt with an extended hand, “hi, i’m y/n.”

he glances at matt, who’s shooting daggers into the side of your head with his eyes, then looks to you, “i’m lucas, nice to meet you.” his eyes and smile both very dopey.

“how’d you meet such a hush guy like matt?” you inquire and feel a smile forming as matt surprisingly allows you to continue this conversation.

“his brother nick does like all of my tattoos,” he pulls up his sleeve to show a collection of pieces in various styles. “next thing i know, i got three trusty customers!” he giggles and looks to matt who puts on an obvious fake smile. you turn your face to see him and feel yourself smile wider at his expense.

“yep…” matt replies.

you quickly turn back to lucas and look closer at his sleeve, “oh wow, nick is fucking talented.” matt fights from moving you back into your seat and driving off as fast as possible. “matt actually gave me one,” you lift yourself back into your seat, using matt’s thigh for support, and begin to move your shirt out of the way.

“hmm, right,” matt takes your shirt in his own hand to cover the spot once more, “we actually have somewhere to be like now.” he looks over to lucas and gives an impressively collected smile, “‘m sorry to cut it short, man. you know we gotta hang out soon.”

“for sure, i’ll have to text you," lucas nods, "and maybe i’ll see you around too, y/n. just stay pretty.” he points to you as he back away from the car. “get her home safe now, matthew.” he throws in the extra joke.

“uh huh, thanks for the smoke,” matt chuckles dryly and gives a bitter half-ass peace sign before rolling his window up. he looks over to you, with your legs sprawled in an awkward yet comfortable way and full smile on your flushed face, “fuck are you smilin’ about?”

“you brought me here for a fucking drug deal?!” you try to control the laugh in your throat.

“look you got your sandwich, i got my weed,”

“i don’t think those are com-” you mumble even though matt’s words never pause for you.

“we both were dragged somewhere, so it’s fair.” matt shrugs with pouted lips as he lifts the center console in search of the dope he’d just bought, “where’d you put it?” you then hold the bag up for him to see, but as he reaches for it you move back slightly. “you’re not funny, dude, give it.”

“come get it,” you look at the bag then over to matt’s unentertained face.

“y/n, that shit won’t work on me. we’re in my car and you don’t know the first thing about rolling.” he props his hand up expecting you to give up at this point. “stop playing.”

“why can’t you just play a little matt? you’re so worked up and mad most of the time,” your cheeks puff a little when you let out an annoyed breath.

“i wouldn’t say mad but,” matt’s eyes widen with the word in exaggeration but he knows you don’t actually want to debate over his mood so he recovers smoothly, moving his body to fully face you, “ alright, we can play, sweetheart.”

he leans closer, “how about about we play you give me my shit and then i’ll fuck you,” in reality the bag of weed is easily within snatching range, but the tension of coercing it out of you entertains matt more.

“that’s not a fun trade when you were gonna do that anyway,” the way your full lips move has matt itching to lay them against his own.

“no i wasn’t,” he whispers, and now that you’ve both now gravitated towards each other, practically at each other’s faces, you get a special view of his eyes and the way his cheeks pinch inward when he lies.

“really?”

he plays along, nodding while looking down in faux disappointment, though you can see him start to hide a giggle of some sort.

“damn. maybe i’ll have to take your phone next and get lucas to come back for me.” you sigh, and go to reach for his phone.

matt grabs your hand looks back to your devious face. “hell no, keep my friends off your roster.”

you purse your lips, “oh really? but you can do whatever you want with my-?” you’re cut off with a small kiss that grows as you reciprocate.

you’re too caught up in the proximity and heat to focus on matt’s hand that finds and takes the bag without fight. he pulls away (far too quickly) just to tease, “too easy.” he holds the bag up and stashes it in his side door. “and now you’ll have to wait until we get back to mine.”

౨ৎ

matt's beyond frustrated when he shows up to find his driveway lined with cars and general rowdiness that can be seen through the windows. you had some jokes at his expense to make as he drove off and away from his house to find the street you're currently parked on.

he's pretty silent until he eventually gets over himself due to his extreme horniness he's suppressed for longer than he expected when calling you. "well, 'm sorry my house is a bit occupied at the moment."

you face him, "no, it's fine." you unbuckle your seatbelt and move to hover over his face, placing a small kiss on his lips then pulling away, "right?"

matt raises his head to look at you, making you glance away from his eyes and down to his lips as you lick your own. and just as your tongue slips back into your mouth, matt is recapturing your lips in a needy kiss.

as the kiss deepens he takes a hold of the area where your head and neck split, holding any of your hair there with it. your tongue plays against his lips before he finally allows you to feel into his mouth a little.

you both kiss and play with each others' lips as he moves his hands to feel down your waist and tug on your waistband to urge you closer to him. you don’t listen though, instead greedily enjoying the slow movement of your lips.

matt pulls away at your disobedience and reclines his seat in one swift motion. you sigh to yourself at the loss of contact, still angled oddly over the center as you bite your bottom lip to mimic matt’s kiss.

he pats his lap and reaches for your arm, softly demanding, “c’mere.” with his physical encouragement you move your body to crawl onto him and settle easily in his lap. matt’s eyes never leave the place where your bodies meet as his hands squeeze at your hips and then your ass.

you lean down to kiss at his neck, causing your boobs to go into matt’s line of sight. he brings his hands up to give them a small squeeze before reaching into your tiny tank top to expose them fully.

you moan into his neck and lift yourself up to watch as matt swirls his tongue around your left nipple while caressing the right. “mmm,” you hum and encourage while your hands play with the hair at the nape of matt’s neck.

he lets go of one with a small pop, muttering “you’re so hot,” against the other. as your hips grind softly you can feel his dick, heavy and hard under you. he pauses his play, “you feel it, sweetheart, go ahead and do somethin’ about it.”

you moan softly and begin to grind against him. he continues to suck and fiddle with your nipples until they're sensitive and causing you to whine.

you then slowly adjust your tits back into place and crawl lower, watching your head of the wheel and watching your legs of the pedals. matt assumingly leans back and plays with the drawstring of his shorts while licking his lips, watching your every move. and finding it very fucking hot that you want to suck his dick so bad you’d sit on the rough, brushed carpet of his car.

you run your fingers up his thighs and beg with your eyes for matt to show himself to you. eventually, he purses his lips and begins to adjust his pants lower, relieving his member of anticipation.

you bite at your bottom lip subconsciously as you adjust yourself closer to him. matt keeps hold of the base, tapping himself against your closed mouth a few times, before you reveal your tongue to him. you run your mouth over him once before gathering your sticky saliva to spit softly on his tip. matt whines at the sensation and grows louder the second you take him fully into your mouth.

the way his eyebrows ruffle together and his mouth forms the most perfect ‘o’ shape is so breathtaking and drives you to continue working him in hopes that he only grows needier.

one of his hands finds the back of the headrest to grip while the other begins to move your hair for you into a harsh, makeshift ponytail. “mmm, fuck. keep goin’, baby.”

you allow all of him into your mouth, reaching the back of your throat before you pull off of him and begin to use your hand on his slick cock. “you like that?” you ask and you look so innocent and so genuinely intrigued at his answer that he can only answer in a groan. you kiss his tip in your own exchange of words with him without actually saying anything, then swirl your tongue around it as you bring him back into your wet mouth.

“yeah- just like that, mmm.” his voice is rough and strained a little as he guides your head continuously. your pace changes over the next few strokes, growing rapid and sloppier with time. matt's low moans and words of encouragement leave you feeling both desperate for his release and your own pleasure and fulfillment he'd give you afterwards.

without warning you, he takes hold of your head and forces himself fully in your mouth, unapologetically spilling his cum down your throat. once he's slumped and breathing heavily you pull off of him, a string of grotesque spit attaching you and his spent dick, and wipe your face with the back of your hand softly.

you force him to make room for you and sit up as you crawl back into his lap, the skin of your knees indented with the carpet's texture. "you're so fucking good," matt compliments in a daze while holding the bridge of his nose.

you kiss the corner of his open mouth and smirk, "too easy."

౨ৎ

"why does it keep biting me?!" chris yelps.

you and andrea never expected to own any kind of pet in recent years, due to both of your awkward schedules and mutual irresponsibility for your actions (finding it appropriate that you both learn to care for yourselves before an animal, no matter how tempting). but that was before you both found a tiny black kitten near a local bus stop that almost had you in tears.

you scooped him up easily and held him in your lap the entire drive home with andrea looking over and cooing at each red light she'd hit.

the entire day was spent googling, then bathing him, then googling if it was okay to use dish soap on a baby kitten, all while you both were clawed at and splashed the entire time.

but you and andrea have settled into cat motherhood well. recently you both went half on buying a cat tree (that is honestly way too big for your tiny living area) and decided to get your friends to help build it.

"he probably doesn't like you," nick suggests while twisting a screwdriver, legs sprawled on the floor.

"i'm sure he doesn't like anything with a name like figaro." chris deepens his voice when stating the cat's name and rolls his eyes.

"shut up, chris!" andrea calls from the kitchen.

"y/n, do you guys have any batteries?" erin asks as she opens the packaging of the cat toy she brought as a gift for figaro.

you smile at the ball of black fur at her side, clumsily punching the cardboard and plastic wrapping before nodding your head and placing your glass on the table, "yeah, which kind?"

"uh, triple a, three of them please."

you head to a closet down the hall to gather the batteries, fumbling with the top shelf a little. you don't hear when the bathroom door next to you opens and matt walks out, only recognizing when you hear his voice, "need some help?"

"no, thank you," you glance at him behind you and smile, giving a final stretch to reach the packaging. "see?" you show him the package in your hand proving he had no reason to even ask.

he smirks and stops you from closing the closet door just yet, "you look nice." you thank him and aren't surprised at what falls from his mouth next, "kinda need to paint with you soon."

"i'm sure you do," you almost laugh, due to both matt's undying horniness and the continued reference to painting.

he looks into your eyes carefully as he feels for your side and swipes his thumb over your tattoo. his mouth comes closer, right below your ear, "i'm not playin', i miss it." he leaves a kiss at the spot before he backs away and places his hands together in a prayer position, rocking them back and forth, mouthing "please."

the both of you almost laugh just before he turns to walk back to the group and remi calls for you to bring her a drink on your way back.

only when you're back in the living room your smile, matt once put on your face, drops as your eyes immediately catch erin and matt talking, her leg leaning far onto his as he reads the instructions and makes dry jokes about the toy she'd bought figaro.

you dont interrupt, placing the batteries near erin and taking a seat next to remi. you don't let your emotions manifest in your actions, even if you're starting to feel it a little extra when matt manages to remind you that you really are nothing but a nice fuck to him.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper @deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @hearts4chris @starrysturniolo @blissfulbellss @aoxash @st7rnioioss @blondiesjailer @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @thinkingabkinkyshit101 @tcvazq @novasturniolo03

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #sturniolo triplets smut #matt sturniolo x black!reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader

434 notes · View notes

hazelfoureyes · 4 months ago

Text

A Doe in Fall (part 11)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught 📍 (this bitch is getting long) Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Horny? Not this story yet but….Don’t worry, just wait a couple days… 👀 💦

Part 11 Caught

Taking time to cast out the line and wait for the big one to take the bait.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, jaws theme plays, fishing, sweet as fuck, and then not sweet, prostitution yelled into a crowd, rough hands, I won’t say the word ‘paddy wagon’ because the history seems to be targeted at the Irish in America so it’s called a wagon here」

Minors if you violate the MDNI I will toss you back into the river lie the pinfish you are 💥 🎣

Peaceful. Your head on his chest. Even breathes, strong heart. Corporeal. Real. There with you. A ritual to whoever brought you into his embrace, every morning you lied against him and you stared out the window. Past the greenhouse, where the woods were allowed to run wild and you knew the animals therein were safe to exist as they were meant to. Everything and everyone in their element.

His fingers would make little circles and pattern eights along your shoulder blade. Your gaze out and forward, his intently focused on the ceiling fan; then and there.

Occasionally he’d spell a word across your skin to see if you were paying attention. Today: B R E A K F A S T ?

He didn’t want to interrupt the sounds of the radio on the dresser with the half hearted question.

He carried your plate out onto the front porch, the swinging bench as much a perfectly suitable place to eat as anywhere else. You both tended to enjoy the back porch, but he felt an urge for novelty.

As you nibbled, he stared at the car. He didn’t really want to leave, but he wanted to go somewhere with you.

“Can I take you to the water? We could fish. I’m in no rush today.” You were unsure, tilting your head a little when he asked. He had offered before but you admitted you didn’t know how. “You’ll have time to shower before work.” His index finger came over and waited for yours to hook into his.

Alastor was beyond smitten watching you and your trousers bound down his steps. Hand in hand, in the early morning breeze of the impending fall, he led you through his property to the water’s edge.

A small cup of earthworms he scrounged up while you changed, two poles from the shed, and a bucket he hoped would have fish soon enough.

As a child he often ran through the woods of his home and played pretend, and as he got older and his imagination shifted he would fish for his mother. When his friends began to date and pair off, he’d hunt animals in a parallel kind of chase.

They took home gals, he dragged in rabbits.

And when his mother died, and the food he brought home was more than he needed, he stopped venturing past the clearing. That trek home to a bright house, his mother waiting on the back porch surrounded by the chirps of crickets was something he cherished.

But then her silhouette was gone. And the cricket’s song became one of loneliness. The walk to the house now a chore, a thing he had to do to get from Point A to Point B.

Pulling you by the hand past the field and its tall grass, into the shade of the trees where the air was so cool it bordered on wet, he wasn’t so worried about the return trip. No tedium in the navigation now.

Alastor wasn’t loquacious as it were, but when he did feel like talking he talked. He could, and did, name every species of fish that lived in the river. The ones he liked to eat, the ones he liked to look at, and the fish he didn’t care for much at all. His mother’s favorite was bluegill, and he said it was the scariest fish when he was young.

“The fucker has spikes!” He said it like he was introducing a villain, “I grabbed one once and it flexed these spines and I dropped it. I broke a pole trying to beat one to death once because I was too scared to pick it up again.”

You’d never fished. Not because you didn’t care for it, it just wasn’t what you did. Your mother didn’t take you to rivers or the sea. You stayed in buildings and parks near people. You could see the water, just never really interacted with it. Luckily, Alastor was ecstatic to teach you.

He saddled up behind you and explained how to cast out. It took a few tries to get it right, the release of the line a little tricky to get down at first. You could see the shine of the reels and could tell they were expensive and unused. Easily they were worth more than three dollars a piece. He bought two of them… when? The thought brought a silly, crooked smile you couldn’t contain.

“A friend accidentally hooked his own back once.” You watched the way his gaze seemed to soften as he was looking into the distant past.

“I hope he’s gotten better at it.”

Alastor shrugged.

Oh, right… Alastor had friends in a sense, but never had he really introduced you to someone that was remotely important. No one he lit up for, no one he invited over, no one he completely relaxed his put-on smile for. You had to wonder where they'd all gone.

“Do you ever see him?”

He shook his head, “He has a life now.”

Your chuckle wasn’t meant to be cruel, but it came off a little too incredulous, “Do you not have a life?”

He didn't look at you, which was the loudest indicator he wasn’t fond of the question. He cast out his own line, waiting to reply until he could settle, “Sweetheart, do you really think I’ve been living a life compatible with his? Or any of them?” He pulled back on the line a little to feel the tension, “Wives get uncomfortable inviting over single 40 somethings like myself. And I can only stomach so many surprise female dinner guests at such things.”

You felt like an ass.

Being a single man at his age, with a good job, a car, and land, made people uncomfortable. A lifelong chosen bachelor is fine, a rake is expected, but someone who seemed to be disinterested in dating and in fooling around? You could imagine the looks on their wive’s faces, asking questions that were thinly veiled insults.

What do you do for fun?

Is it difficult to find respectable dates when you work in jazz?

So, you’ve never been married, is that right? Not even close?

A mood change. You waited a moment to let silence kill the topic and asked, “What is the catch you’re most proud of?”

He thought for a second before a lopsided grin spread and you felt your heartbeat relax. “A gull.”

“A gull?!”

Alastor cackled, doubling over at the memory. “I threw out my line and as it flew through the air, a gull passing by grabbed the worm. It fought me for a minute before managing to get loose.” He ended up squating, blue jeans rolled up at the ankles and covered in spurs you just now noticed. “It looked as confused as I was.”

The morning was spent reveling in new and useless information about each other. Your fear of dogs, his fear of armadillos (someone told them they had the plague). The time you accidentally walked into a stranger’s home, the time he startled an old woman because he was standing too still in a store and she thought he was a mannequin.

Moments of intimacy intermittently interrupted by a tugging of the fishing line and excited easing in of the prize.

The fuckers did have spikes. You reached out for your first successful catch and the barbs pricked you. With a hurried step back, your short heel sank into the dirt and you lost your balance. Your ass hit the ground hard, and you needed a breath before you could reply to Alastor’s worried questions.

“I’m fine”, just embarrassed, you assured him before picking up your shoe and throwing it, “I have to go home and change out these shoes.” Leftie smacked against the tree with a soft pop.

“Bring over a few pairs, if you have them. I’m sure a pair of mom’s could fit you, you can wear them home. We could toss these into the river. Shoot ‘em. Run em over.” He retrieved the thrown shoe before kneeling to remove the other one. He touched your ankle, eyes shooting up to monitor your face for any pained expressions. “Burn ‘em.”

“First my stockings last week and now my shoes? You’ve gone fire-happy.” You wiggled your toes for his peace of mind, “It’s okay, I don’t have many shoes. We’ll reconcile someday.”

Alastor sat down properly on the grass and dirt of the river’s edge and took off his shoes and socks. You thought maybe he was trying to commiserate somehow, until he shoved the socks into the toe box and slipped one onto your foot.

You warned he didn’t have to do that and he flashed you a look, his smirk alone called you a hypocrite and made you go silent. “You can’t perform with tattered feet or a rolled ankle.” He laced them tightly, “I know where the stickers and ant hills are, I’ll be fine.”

Your eyes wandered over the bucket of water and fish, the worms in their cup, and his bare feet on the grass.

“Who taught you to be such a well rounded gentleman?” A rhetorical question, mostly.

“My mother, of course.”

“Your father didn’t worry you’d be too soft?”

“Ah, apparently not. He left before I was born,” Alaster fidgeted with the straps of your shoes. “He hadn’t considered,” every word was measured, “the realities of,” you could see him searching for the words in real time; this was a conversation he had never had before, “of being with my mother before knocking her up.”

The ‘family planning’ conversation on the kitchen table fluttered back to you.

“Oh, can I have permission to hate him?” Always the easiest emotion.

He clicked his tongue, hands busy looping your shoes together by their straps and then attaching them to his belt loop.

“He left her the house and the land before going. Kept his promise to help take care of me, in that sense. So, no. I think indifference is fair enough.” He grabbed your fish by the tail and placed it into the bucket. “Kinda funny though, had he stuck around he’d have seen how the only thing I got from him was his biggest worry: my complexion!” A joyless laugh, “But I’m just like her in all the ways that matter.”

It came out before you could think it through, “He didn’t love your mother?”

He winced. “Cowards can love just fine, I think. Maybe they love the hardest actually.” You nodded, knowing this wasn’t a philosophical debate where your opinion was needed. “I mean, what kind of man just gives away his only assets?” Alastor leaned over to fix the collar of your blouse, “A scared idiot in love, of course.”

You wondered about ‘family planning’. In their age it was nothing short of guessing and lamb innards. It was impossible to pretend you knew what his father would have lived through had he stayed. But you knew very well what Alastor lived through because he left. New Orleans was different than many other parts of the country when it came to mixed children, but the attitude was less acceptance and more a baseline tolerance for their existence.

The conversation, and shoe change, brought a natural end to the morning. Alastor helped you up, taking the opportunity to brush off your backside.

He led you until the clearing, he knew the land was flat there, and slowed down to let you walk a little bit ahead. The view of the house was much more inviting with you in it.

As promised, a shower. Originally alone, Alastor sitting on the toilet seat talking to you about dinner. Then he got quiet. He startled you a little when he peeked behind the curtain but everything settled when he got inside and his hands wrapped around your waist. Kisses for kiss’s sake. Skin on skin just to feel closer than you were before. A hum buzzing his chest as you hugged him tightly and wasted some water. Well, ‘wasted’ is subjective. The warmth radiating off his stomach rivaled the shower’s spray. You knew there wasn’t time for a nap, but the comfort was so deeply rooted you worried you’d fall asleep in his arms then and there.

His mothers shoes did fit, a pair of her black double straps with a nice wide heel replaced your T-straps and their damned thin one. The offer and action of presenting them to you was bigger than could be acknowledged. It was clear in how he wiped them clean with drilled in focus and set them in front of the bed for you like the main course of a fancy meal. The way they’d been kept packaged and neat in the guest closet.

“Throwing them away seemed a waste. Glad they could be of use.” He said it so casually but it was more than that. When she died he packed away her items and forgot about them. He couldn’t throw them away. It still felt like her house, after all. Who was he to change anything?

It was a little surprise to himself when he offered them to you. It seemed natural at the moment but as he said it his calm heart backtracked. Was that okay to do? Was it disrespectful to his mother? Was it rude to offer you a dead woman’s things? Would you be uncomfortable?

The little strings of worry all cut loose though when you did the straps and said, “I’ll return them in perfect condition.”

He had thought you’d take them forever. But no, that was better. “I’ll buy you your own just like them.”

You quickly buried the sincere sweetness of the moment with a joke, “Finally this long con is paying off!” What else could you do, threading the strap of your beau’s dead, dearly loved mother’s heels? It was like being on cloud nine with lead shoes. Confusingly wonderful and supremely daunting. You were literally walking in her shoes. The irony made you squeeze your arms to your sides to make sure your sweat pads were in their place.

Alastor thought if all you were getting out of this was a pair of shoes, you were definitely coming up in the red.

Negative.

Losing out.

He knew it was a joke, but had it been true he’d build a home on his land and fill it with shoes and dresses and whatever else you asked for. A stage all your own if you wanted. He’d clap and throw flowers at your feet nightly. If you’d let him.

Maybe he could do that anyway. Every night, praise you with his mouth in all the ways he could imagine you’d enjoy.

The analogy carried through as he drove you to work. What was the price of admission and had he managed to afford it yet? Again, he fretted over what he was giving you in all of… whatever exactly this was.

He knew exactly what he wanted it to be and knew very well what you didn’t want. So, letting sleeping dogs lie, he instead considered what you were actually getting out of the arrangement as it stood now.

He’d met women who just wanted a home to pretty up. You had your own space you seemed keen on so he doubted that was it. Sometimes women pursued him for his obvious disposable income. Images of you swiping the hundred off the hotel bar played across his thoughts. No, you seemed capable enough to earn more than your job paid. If anything you seemed to enjoy chasing down marks.

You’d made it clear your thoughts on marriage (“I won’t be bought by jewelry and promises of a pretty cage.”) though he did consider what could ever make you want that legal lock. He’d had friends who would have liked the safety a husband lended their image. Women who didn’t have any need or want for men in general. But things like banking and ownership were easier with a husband. And if he was aware of their preferences, they could still enjoy their love lives as they always had tried to before marriage. Alastor had considered such an offer before. Seriously considered it. It seemed to solve all of the problems he and his lady friend had.

His hands twisted around the steering wheel. He knew, deep in the marrow of his bones, he was always going to be alone. But the tiniest speck of desire to have someone love him and share his life remained buried in the viscera of his reality. So he turned down the sham marriage. What if he met someone inconceivable? Suddenly he would be an adulterer. Which was just hilarious to him. Such a thing could lead to a loss of employment and social shunning.

Plus, his mother would shake her head if he opened her very deserved home to someone purely existing to make a pleasant lie for the world. Disappointment could leak straight from her grave and into the floorboards.

Everyone wants something, though. He wanted to be seen in his entirety and accepted as he was.

You?

Well. All the things you seemed to want you had. Autonomy. Adoration. Attention.

His mind conjured images of you sitting pretty in your trousers in Beth’s. Moments like those, before he knew you, you had all of the things you wanted and seemingly needed. It made you upsettingly attractive to him.

Alastor didn’t want to be needed by someone, he wanted to be wanted by someone who already had everything.

As the car rolled over the bridge and you both made your way into the city proper, his thoughts wandered back to the notion of rings. His mother never had one, so he had nothing to hand down. Would you wear gold, like the necklace you hung on the mirror in the guest room? Or silver?

He suppressed an embarrassed chuckle, he was getting ahead of himself again. Daydreaming while he drove like he always did. But this time you were in the car with him.

You caught him blushing, asking if he got too much sun by the water earlier. Alastor’s eyes went wide and he laughed a forced ‘ha ha ha!’, punctuated by a flat and low “No!”

All you could do was laugh in return when he didn’t elaborate. The way he was gripping the steering wheel made his knuckles go pale through the thin skin of his hands. But the wonky smile he had told you he wasn’t angry.

He gave you a peck outside the theater’s side door, promised to swing by yours after work so you could grab some shoes, and drove off.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Excuse you, you’re not welcome here.”

You heard it but didn’t really register what that implied. Sometimes people tried to sneak in who’d been banned, but it was…not common. The list of people was quite short. You didn’t stop to think of them all, regardless.

You made a habit of calling Ruth by her stage name as early in the work day as you could remember, to avoid any slip ups. So when you called out to her as you worked the room after your performance, she knew to answer.

“Skye, could you bring me some water?” Leaning on the bar you watched her make her own drink, flashing you a wink. She always got tipsy and ended up behind the bar when she was in a good mood. Which was most nights. The staff didn’t mind, the real money to be made was in liquor and whatever could be passed off as beer. So the extra pair of hands was appreciated.

“You’ve been especially happy lately. Good sex?” The glass was slid to you. All you could do was nod. You’d hadn’t actually had sex in awhile, but that wasn’t anyone’s business.

Your smile barely had a chance to slip off your face, your senses too quick for your body to keep up. The awareness that something was wrong hit you fast and hard, but only milliseconds before you felt someone grab you.

Brady’s hand gripped your shoulder and pulled you backwards, something slipping around your wrists as a uniformed cop came around the corner of the atrium. You struggled to get away from him, shouting general protests to being suddenly manhandled. Your voice erupted, the first cannon shot of the war as women and men began to swarm and berate the detective.

Barely a shocked laugh could be choked out from your tightening throat.

“You’re under arrest!” He yelled it, looking at you for just a moment before announcing it to the audience. An actor to his crowd.

“For what?!” Johnny pushed Brady with two fingers to the chest.

“Prostitution.”

A beat of silence as the room collectively gasped. Ruth was the first one to truly lay her hands on him, snatching his hat off and smacking him across the head. The other dancers moved like a school of fish, tucking Ruth into the safety of their numbers with a simultaneous jostling of the detective.

The cop leading you away stopped, “Just her? I thought-,”

Detective Brady dusted his hat off with the back of his hand and shooed the man away. “Just her.”

Before you had reached the glass doors of the theater, you tensed and pulled back. “What the fuck are you doing, Mr. Brady?”

But Brady wasn’t looking at you. He was scanning the room. Staring into the small but fierce roiling mass of regulars, dancers, and staff filling up the doorway in front him and flooding the atrium.

Johnny sized up Brady, getting nose to nose with him, “Show your face here again and we’ll need an ambulance, not a wagon!”

Brady leaned into the confrontation, “Now sir I’d be careful. That almost sounds like a threat.”

“Sure as shit is!” Someone hissed.

“Hey! Brady!” You tried again in vain to get his attention.

“Hush. You confessed to it already, no point crying now.” The cop’s voice was harsh, his disgust barely hidden. His palms were calloused and scratched at the exposed skin of your arms.

“Someone! Someone call-,” Ruth snapped her fingers as the syllables teetered on the tip of her tongue.

Goosebumps rose across your shoulders like little tombstones. Your autonomic nervous system came to a crawl. The grip on your arm tightened as you had to be wretched forward and out of the front doors.

Her eyes lit up, “Alastor! Does anyone have Alastor’s work number?!” Ruth was met with confused faces and shrugs from the others.

You didn’t feel yourself begin to cry, it was a reaction to the fact you hadn’t blinked since you became aware Brady didn’t seem too interested in your reaction to this.

This wasn’t an arrest. It was a trap.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

#hazbin hotel #Alastor #human Alastor #alastor x reader #human Alastor x reader #ADIF #a doe in fall

145 notes · View notes

just-aake · 5 months ago

Text

Everlasting Devotion - Part V

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.

Warnings: light angst

Words: 4938

The early morning light filters through the tall, arched windows of the council room, casting a warm, golden glow over the cold stone floor. The room remains quiet and serene, with only the faint rustling of papers and the delicate scratches of quills breaking the silence.

At one end of the long table, Natasha is already immersed in her work, her quill moving steadily across the paper as she focuses intently on the day’s documents.

Nearby, Steve occupies another seat, sharing in her early morning diligence. In the quiet company of each other, he, too, works through his own stack of reports and investigations.

Or at least he was working.

“You have that look on your face again,” Natasha comments without lifting her gaze from the documents.

Steve turns slightly in his chair, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What look?” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

Natasha finally glances up, a slight smirk playing on her lips.

“That disappointed look you get every time we spar, and I beat you,” she teases, her tone light but with an edge of amusement.

Steve scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head with a wry smile. “Alright, I’ll remember this the next time we spar,” he replies, his voice carrying a hint of playful challenge.

Natasha chuckles softly, setting down her quill and giving him her full attention.

“So, what is it?” she questions curiously.

Steve hesitates for a moment, his fingers idly tapping on the table's edge in thought before releasing a disappointed sigh.

“I didn’t think you’d actually follow through with Ross’ suggestion,” he admits.

Natasha raises an eyebrow in question, prompting him to continue.

“Your breakup with Lady Y/n,” he clarifies, his tone careful, as if treading on delicate ground.

Natasha internally groans as the topic of the breakup resurfaces yet again in her discussions. Even though she knows it's untrue, it doesn't lessen the sting in her heart every time she hears it.

“I didn’t do it because of him,” she grumbles, irritation creeping into her voice. “Sitwell and the others on the council are the ones stirring trouble.”

Steve leans back in his chair, his expression softening as he considers her words.

“Well, I don’t know about them, but personally, I think Y/n would excel in court,” he says thoughtfully. “She’s smart, fair, selfless, kind-hearted...You know, she even found Bucky a place of his own to help him settle down for once.”

Natasha holds up a hand to stop him, a disbelieving huff escaping her. “Steve, between you and me, who do you think knows better how great she is?”

Steve acknowledges her point with a nod, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“I’m just trying to say that maybe you should reconsider,” he suggests, his tone gentler. “Together, the two of you are a force to be reckoned with, not apart.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of Natasha's lips at his words. It’s refreshing to hear something positive about her relationship with you for once.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Captain,” she replies, shaking her head lightly before masking her emotions with a sarcastic smirk. “Any other opinions you’d like to share?” she teases.

Steve chuckles softly, shaking his head as he turns back to his reports.

“No, I think that’s enough from me about your love life,” he says with a light tone, though a hint of concern lingers in his eyes as he gives her one last glance before returning to his work.

Not quite ready to dive back into her tasks, Natasha leans over slightly, her curiosity piqued as she sneaks a look at the documents spread out before him.

"Is that the report on the missing weapons?" she asks, her eyes scanning the papers.

Steve shakes his head, flipping through the reports until he finds some to show her.

"No, nothing on that yet. These are mostly incidents of other crimes across the kingdom—petty theft, violent encounters, things like that."

As Natasha examines the documents, her gaze shifts from one report to another, noting the escalating crime rate in various regions. With some prisoners and Rumlow’s mercenaries still on the loose, lawlessness had unfortunately surged, stretching the kingdom's remaining soldiers thin.

She sighs, frustration evident as she picks up another report, her eyes catching a familiar name—Lord Sitwell—scrawled across one of the papers. The sight reminds her of the growing suspicion surrounding the man.

"How’s the investigation into Lord Sitwell going?" she asks, her tone more serious now. "Anything suspicious?"

Steve's expression darkens slightly, a frown creasing his brow as he shakes his head.

“Some areas he frequents could be considered questionable, but nothing substantial. I have one of my best knights tracking his movements. If there’s anything to find, we’ll know right away.”

Natasha nods thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair as she considers his words.

Honestly, she hopes the investigation turns up nothing; it would be easier to handle Sitwell as an irritating councilman rather than deal with the complexities of him being a potential traitor.

Steve’s voice cuts through her thoughts, drawing her attention back.

"And what about you?" he asks, a note of teasing in his voice to relieve the tension in the air. "Anything interesting in that mountain of documents you’ve got there?" He pauses, then adds with a knowing glance and a subtle gesture toward the corner, "I mean, besides that lonesome envelope you’ve placed way over there."

Natasha’s gaze flickers to the envelope she’s been avoiding all morning. The mere sight sends a wave of apprehension through her, but she knows she can’t ignore it for too long.

With a resigned sigh, she reaches for the envelope and turns it over, revealing the front to Steve.

His eyes widen in surprise as he recognizes the striking crest embossed in rich gold that adorns the seal.

“Wow,” he breathes, clearly impressed. “Only a few weeks as Queen, and you’re already increasing communications with the Stark kingdom.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Natasha mutters with a huff, shaking her head as she hands it to him. “It just arrived this morning.”

Steve examines the envelope closely while Natasha presses her hand to her forehead with a sigh. She can’t help but think that she jinxed herself when she had wondered yesterday about the kind of person the Stark king might be—now it’s like he purposely sent this to taunt her.

“What do you think he wants?” she asks, her voice tinged with apprehension.

Steve chuckles lightly, handing the envelope back to her.

“Unfortunately, I don’t know much about the guy either. But I’ve heard he’s unpredictable.”

“Great,” Natasha mutters, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Steve offers a reassuring smile.

“Why don’t you just open it and find out?”

Natasha’s fingers trace the edge of the envelope before she finally breaks the seal. She reads the contents in silence, her expression unreadable until she finally looks up and meets Steve’s gaze.

“Well?” Steve prompts, unable to contain his curiosity.

“He's coming,” Natasha says, her voice calm, though an undercurrent of tension betrays her true feelings.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Now?”

“No, in a few weeks,” Natasha clarifies. “To renew the peace treaty between the kingdoms.”

“That’s good, then,” Steve says, nodding in approval. “It’s just a formality meeting.”

“Right,” Natasha mutters hopefully, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “That’s all it is.”

Before they can delve further into the topic, a knock on the door interrupts their conversation.

One of Steve’s knights enters, bowing respectfully before handing Steve a piece of paper. With a nod of thanks, Steve takes the document, and the knight promptly exits.

As Steve skims the contents, his brows furrow.

“More reports?” Natasha asks, her tone casual, though she can sense something off in Steve's demeanor.

Steve hesitates, his eyes flickering with uncertainty at her before he finally relents.

“Uh, this is the carriage driver’s account from yesterday’s attack.”

Alarm flashes in Natasha’s eyes as she straightens in her seat.

“What attack?” she asks, her voice tinged with confusion and growing concern.

Steve looks at her, surprised by her reaction.

“You didn’t hear? I was actually wondering why you were so calm today. I thought, maybe with the breakup and all, your mind was still—”

“Steve!” Natasha interrupts sharply, urgency in her voice. “Who got attacked?”

“Lady Y/n,” Steve replies, his tone grim as he hands her the document. “It was an ambush from the shadows. And from what the driver is describing about the weapon used, it sounds like something from Rumlow’s missing inventory.”

Natasha barely hears his words as she skims through the document, her heart pounding faster with each line: arrows, glowing shards, a crash. The words blur together as anger and fear swell within her. The thought of you in danger, combined with her ignorance of the situation, fuels her rising fury.

Steve’s concerned voice breaks through her haze. “From what I gathered, no one suffered any major injuries, so I’m sure Lady Y/n is okay,” he reassures her before giving her a puzzled look. “You really didn’t receive any information about this?”

Natasha tightens her grip, crumpling the paper slightly, as she comes to an upsetting realization.

“No, not exactly,” she mutters, her voice tight with barely suppressed rage.

Without another word, Natasha stands abruptly, her movements swift and determined. She strides out of the room, her footsteps echoing fiercely against the stone floors, each step driven by frustration and a need for answers.

When she reaches the Councillor’s office, formalities are the last thing on her mind. She slams the heavy door open with such force that it reverberates through the chamber.

“You lied to me,” Natasha states coldly, her voice dripping with disapproval.

Ross lifts his gaze from the papers on his desk, his expression calm as he gives her a slight bow in acknowledgment.

“How can I help you, Your Majesty?” he asks, his tone casually polite.

Natasha’s eyes narrow in irritation as she steps closer to his desk.

“Everything regarding the nobles crosses your desk, and you were the one who assured me Y/n returned home safely yesterday.”

Ross nods, maintaining his composed demeanor. “That's correct. She was reported safe and sound at her manor after her journey from the castle.”

“Yet you conveniently left out the part where she was attacked on the way,” Natasha snaps, her voice rising with each word.

Ross meets her gaze, unfazed by the accusation, and replies, “It didn’t seem like necessary information for you to know, considering everything was already handled.”

"Oh my god," Natasha mutters, rubbing her temples in disbelief as she tries to fend off the headache forming. When she looks at him again, her voice is sharp with incredulity.

"Are you seriously telling me that you didn't think it was important for me to know that her life was threatened?"

Ross tilts his head slightly, his expression mildly curious. “Are you upset because this situation involves Lady Y/n specifically?” he asks, probing. “I thought you had already made your decision about your relationship with her.”

Leaning forward, he clasps his hands on the desk, challenging her. “Or do you perhaps still care for her?”

Natasha’s eyes flash angrily, and she slams her hands against the desk in warning.

“This isn’t about my relationships! This is about you withholding information from me,” she retorts firmly.

Ross’s calm demeanor remains unchanged as he responds, “Not every incident involving the nobles warrants your attention, Your Majesty. Surely, there are more pressing matters of the kingdom to focus on.”

Natasha’s patience finally snaps at the comment—so reminiscent of the many dismissals she has endured from Dreykov concerning you. With a sharp tap of her finger on the desk, she commands his full attention, her eyes blazing with resolve.

“From now on, you will tell me everything—every detail,” she demands, her voice hard as steel, leaving no room for argument. “You don’t get to decide what deserves my attention.”

She turns to leave the office, but his next words halt her in her tracks.

“If you’re planning to visit her manor, she’s not there,” Ross remarks calmly. “Lady Y/n went into town this morning.”

Natasha slowly pivots back to face him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion as she processes his words and comes to a conclusion that infuriates her further.

“You have people spying on her?” she asks, her tone low and laced with warning.

Ross shrugs, unfazed, as he rearranges the papers on his desk. “The attacker is still at large, and it’s clear their target was her. What we don’t know is the reason why, so monitoring her is a necessary precaution.”

"For her or you?" Natasha counters, her voice dripping with skepticism of his concern.

Ross meets her piercing gaze evenly, his expression betraying nothing. “For the kingdom,” he replies with practiced ease.

Natasha scoffs in disbelief, recognizing the repeated excuse.

Without another word, Natasha strides out of the office, her mind racing. She needs to be more prepared and vigilant if she’s going to keep her promise of protecting you. But how can she do that when she can’t even be seen around you right now?

As she reenters the council room, Steve greets her with a concerned raised eyebrow.

"Everything alright?" he asks.

Natasha pauses, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She can’t afford to let her emotions cloud her judgment. She needs to be strategic and stay ahead of everyone else.

“That knight of yours who’s tracking Sitwell—do you trust him?” she inquires.

"With my life," Steve replies without hesitation.

"Good,” Natasha says, her tone decisive. “I have another mission for him."

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The town remains lively well into the late afternoon, the streets alive with the bustling activity of merchants calling out their wares, townsfolk engaged in conversations and the rhythmic clatter of horse-drawn carts over the cobblestones.

You and Pietro had set out early this morning with a simple goal: to hire someone to repair the manor’s gates. Unfortunately, as the day drags on, you’ve found little success, each conversation uncovering an unexpected obstacle.

“What do you mean you can’t do it?!” Pietro’s voice is sharp with frustration as his fist slams against the counter.

The pattern of refusals from the blacksmiths and craftsmen across town has become all too familiar. Every shop you enter ends with the same disappointing excuse.

The smith across from you grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I’m really sorry, Lady Y/N. Any other time, I’d be more than willing, but with your father under investigation for treason, I just can’t risk my shop’s reputation.”

Pietro huffs angrily, “But that has nothing to do with—”

“Pietro,” you interject firmly, cutting him off with a stern look before turning back to the smith. “Thank you for your time and your honesty.”

The smith nods, his eyes filled with regret. “I truly am sorry.”

With a heavy heart, you and Pietro step out of the shop.

“Let’s try another place,” you suggest, trying to keep your spirits up.

Pietro kicks at the ground in frustration, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “We wouldn’t have to do this if that old man hadn’t abandoned us.”

Despite the situation, a light chuckle escapes your lips.

“You know Clint hates it when you call him that. Besides, he’s taking his family on a well-deserved trip. We can’t blame him for not being here.”

“He wouldn’t hold Dreykov’s actions against you like everyone else is,” Pietro mutters, his voice tinged with resentment.

You sigh, feeling the sting of the townspeople’s cold reception. Wary stares and hushed whispers follow you everywhere, a constant reminder of your family’s precarious standing due to Dreykov’s involvement. With the addition of your breakup, Natasha’s apparent distancing from you only exacerbates others’ hesitance to work with your family.

“Let’s take a break,” you suggest, trying to lift the mood. “We still need to pick up a few things for Wanda at the market.”

Pietro grumbles but nods in agreement, following you as you weave through the bustling marketplace.

After completing your part of the list, you find a spot against the outer wall of a shop, staying near the shadows and out of the way while Pietro finishes up inside.

Suddenly, a commotion across the street catches your attention. The butcher bursts out of his shop, furiously waving his arms as he tries to shoo away a bird that had flown in through an open window.

“This is a shop, not a feeding ground! Get out of here!” the butcher barks, grabbing a broom to chase the bird away forcibly.

Startled, the bird flaps its wings and retreats across the street but doesn’t leave entirely. It hovers nearby, its sharp eyes fixed on the butcher’s shop, clearly hungry.

A pang of sympathy tugs at your heart, the bird’s plight resonating with your own feelings of rejection throughout the day. You decide to act, stepping into the shop to purchase a small portion of venison, enough to satisfy the bird’s hunger.

Once outside, you approach the spot where the bird has perched, its gaze still locked on the shop. You unwrap the venison, place it on the ground, and then whistle lightly to get the bird’s attention.

The bird’s sharp eyes turn and narrow on you, watching closely before shifting its attention to the meat. It swoops down cautiously, tilting its head as it assesses the situation.

You take a step back, giving the bird space to approach. Sensing no threat, the bird quickly snatches the venison, tearing into it with its powerful beak and talons.

Satisfied that you could help the bird, even a little, you kneel to observe it more closely, a mix of curiosity and admiration in your gaze. A streak of red feathers lines its wings, setting it apart from others of its kind.

“A falcon, huh,” you murmur to yourself. “What are you doing hunting in town?”

The falcon pauses, lifting its head to meet your gaze with what seems like a grateful glance. It tilts its head curiously at you before fluttering closer and, to your surprise, lands gently on your shoulder.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not avoiding me because of what Dreykov did,” you say with a small smile.

The falcon chirps in what sounds like agreement before taking flight, just as Pietro approaches.

“Alright, I got everything,” he announces, a little more cheerful now. “Where to next?”

Feeling slightly better yourself, you give one last glance to the sky where the falcon has disappeared, then turn to Pietro with a small smile.

“Let’s go visit some friends.”

After a brief walk, you find yourself seated at a small wooden table in the cozy warmth of the bakery. The comforting scent of freshly baked bread and pastries fills the air, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in thought as you stare out the window.

The problem of repairing the manor’s gates weighs on your mind. You had hoped to handle it on your own, but with the day nearly over, it’s become clear that you may need to ask for help.

Unfortunately, the one person who could solve your problem effortlessly is the person you’re supposed to avoid at the moment.

A conflicted sigh escapes your lips as you contemplate what you should do.

The gentle clink of a teacup being placed in front of you draws you back to the present. A comforting hand rests on your shoulder, giving it a light, reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t stress about it too much, dear. You’ll tire yourself out,” Martha, your old kitchen staff lead, says softly. Her warm, friendly presence is a comforting contrast to the cold reception you’ve received from the others today.

“She’s right,” Cedric, your old stablemaster, chimes in as he settles into the seat across from you beside Pietro. “You two have had a tough couple of days. You should take a moment to rest.”

His last words seem more directed at Pietro, who is busily scribbling on pieces of parchment while shoveling pastries into his mouth from the plate on the table.

Martha crosses her arms and watches him with an exasperated sigh.

“Slow down, Pietro. You’re going to choke.”

Right on cue, Pietro begins coughing, having inhaled one bite too quickly.

Martha sighs knowingly, moving to pat his back in comfort while you push the cup of tea closer to him with an amused huff.

Pietro gratefully takes the drink, gulping it down before slamming the cup back on the table with a determined expression.

“Forget the others. We can fix the gates ourselves,” he declares confidently. “Look, I’ve sketched what they used to look like. I mean, how hard can it be?”

He spreads out several papers covered in rough drawings and ideas for the gate, gesturing pointedly at them. The sketches are a chaotic mix of lines and shapes, more enthusiastic than practical.

Cedric hums thoughtfully, nodding in agreement.

“I’m sure we could come up with something if we work on it together.”

Martha huffs in disbelief, shaking her head at her husband. “Maybe twenty years ago, you might have been able to, but now you can barely carry the horse’s feed without hurting your back.”

Cedric straightens up, clearly offended.

“Who said I would be carrying anything? I’m sure Wanda could move ten times more than Pietro and me combined with her powers.”

At the mention of Wanda, your expression falls. You remember how she chose to stay in her room this morning instead of accompanying you both into town, her face still shadowed by guilt as she curled into herself on her bed, staring blankly out the window.

“I don’t think she’s going to be up for using her powers much anytime soon,” you admit, your voice tinged with sadness at seeing Wanda lose confidence in her abilities after all the progress she’s made in the past months.

Martha’s expression softens, and she lets out a sympathetic sigh as she heads back to the counter.

“The poor girl. I’ll see if I still have some of her favorites for you to bring home to her.”

The bell above the door jingles, signaling the arrival of new customers and causing your attention to shift to the entrance as two men enter the shop.

The one in front is dressed in a rich, golden-lined black tunic that contrasts sharply with the humble surroundings of the bakery.

The man surveys the bakery with a quick, assessing glance, his sharp eyes taking in every detail before they settle on Martha. He flashes her a charming smile that seems almost too perfect.

“What do you think, Y/N?” Pietro’s voice pulls your focus back to him. He’s wearing a determined expression as he continues, “We could just order the parts from outside the kingdom—from people who aren’t concerned with what Dreykov did.”

Cedric nods thoughtfully and stands from the table. “I think I may know some people from the Carter kingdom who might help with supplies.”

As he heads for the back of the shop, he gives you a comforting and encouraging touch on your shoulder, declaring, “It’s going to be alright.”

You give him a grateful smile as he leaves.

“So?” Pietro asks, leaning forward eagerly for your thoughts.

Returning your attention to him, you hesitate in your decision, feeling uncertain about the plan. While you pride yourself on your wide range of knowledge, you must admit that this area is not your strong suit.

“I’m not sure, Pietro,” you answer honestly. “We’d still need precise details for designing the gates properly, and even then, constructing them correctly would be another challenge.”

Pietro groans in frustration, running a hand through his hair.

“So how do we find someone willing to help us with that?”

Before you can respond, Martha’s surprised exclamation draws your attention back to the counter.

“You want all of them?” she asks in astonishment.

The man leaning casually against the counter hums thoughtfully before shaking his head.

“You know what? You’re right. That’s a bit much. I’ll take a couple of each one you have.”

He places a heavy pouch on the counter, the sound of coins clinking as they spill over the brim.

“This should cover it. Wait—except those,” he points at one type of pastry and shudders. “Can’t have any of those. I’m allergic.”

Martha, recovering from her initial shock, responds with a warm smile.

“Oh, I make some without raspberries too. My Lady Y/n over there has the same problem with the fruit.”

At her words, the man’s attention shifts to you. His eyes lock onto yours, narrowing slightly in thought. Without warning, he strides over to your table.

“Have we met before?” he asks abruptly, his tone curious yet insistent.

Startled at his sudden presence before you, your brows pinch in confusion as you cautiously lean back from the stranger.

“Excuse me?”

Ignoring your cautious response, the man snaps his fingers as if trying to jog his memory. “I mean, your face looks familiar, but I can’t place where I’ve seen you.” He groans in frustration, then beckons to the other man, standing quietly behind him. “Come on, Vision, help me out here. Doesn’t she look like someone we know?”

The second man, Vision, shifts uncomfortably, glancing between you and his companion. His voice is apologetic as he responds, “Sir, I don’t believe it’s appropriate to comment on someone’s appearance in such a manner.”

The first man sighs, dismissing the concern with a wave of his hand.

“Relax, Vision. I’m not trying to be rude.” He rubs his chin thoughtfully, then sighs, seemingly giving up. “Jarvis would probably know,” he mutters, almost to himself, his tone pointed.

Vision bows slightly, speaking softly, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

The man waves off the apology with a casual gesture. “No need to apologize. That’s not really part of your job anyway.”

His attention then drifts down to the papers spread on the table, piquing his interest.

“What’s all this? Remodeling?” he asks.

“Repairs, actually,” you respond cautiously, still taken aback by the stranger's casual familiarity. “The entrance gates at my manor need fixing.”

The man hums in understanding as he glances over the sketches.

“Well, if you’re hoping for your gate to collapse in the next light breeze, then I’d say you’re on the right track.”

“Hey!” Pietro exclaims, snatching the papers back defensively. “These are just rough sketches!”

The man raises an unimpressed brow.

“Really? They look more like random rectangles drawn by a child.”

Pietro’s eyes narrow into a glare as he rises from his chair, his posture stiffening with the familiar spark of competitiveness.

“You think you can do better?”

You sigh inwardly, recognizing the shift in Pietro’s demeanor. The last thing you need is him getting riled up. You can only hope this stranger doesn’t push him further.

The man scoffs, crossing his arms with a smug expression. “Wrong again, kid. I know I can do better.”

With that, your hope disappears, realizing this stranger’s personality is no better. Though, his confident assertion sparks an idea in your mind. You interrupt before Pietro can respond.

“Do you have experience building things like this?” you ask curiously.

The man rolls his eyes slightly, a hint of arrogance coloring his voice at your question.

“Please, I designed the entire security system for my ca—”

He’s abruptly cut off by a loud cough from Vision, who shoots him an inscrutable look.

“The point is,” the man continues, dismissing Vision’s interruption with a wave, “fixing a simple gate is child’s play for me.”

Sensing an opportunity, you lean forward slightly. “If that's the case, would you be willing to help us with the repairs then?”

The man considers your request, tilting his head and adopting an air of exaggerated contemplation.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I’m a pretty busy man. Places to go, people to see.”

Receiving yet another rejection, your spirit deflates in despair, and you let out a discouraged sigh.

Pietro scoffs with a roll of his eyes, crossing his arms and sizing up the man with open skepticism.

“He’s probably lying anyway.”

The man’s smirk deepens at the challenge, waving his finger at Pietro.

“You know what? Just for that, I’m gonna do it—if only to annoy you further, kid.”

“Stop calling me that!” Pietro moves to take a step forward, but you catch his arm, urging him to stay in place.

Vision steps forward, his expression serious as he addresses the man.

“Sir, this is highly inappropriate. We are not supposed to do anything that draws attention like this.”

The man dismisses the concern with a wave of his hand.

“Relax, we’ve got weeks before Jarvis and the others arrive. I’ll be done long before then. Nobody needs to know.”

“So you’ll take the job?” you ask again, your hope rekindled at the thought of getting the task done without needing to bother Natasha.

The man raises his brows in question at Vision, who eventually relents with a resigned sigh.

“It would seem so,” Vision replies quietly.

The man grins, extending his hand to you with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Well, that settles that. I look forward to working with you, uh, Lady…what’s your name again?”

“Y/n,” you reply, taking his hand, still cautious but undeniably intrigued by his character. As your hands clasp, it dawns on you that you don't even know the stranger’s name.

“And you are...?” you inquire, your tone curious.

“Tony,” he finishes smoothly, flashing that confident smirk once more. “My friends call me Tony.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: thank you for reading! And thank you for all the reactions and comments so far on this series and boundless devotion. It's so fun to read how you felt after each part, and I'm glad to see you're enjoying it!

Taglist : @midastouch013, @2silverchain, @dvrkhcld, @observeowl, @x-drowned-x, @fireandblood-3, @natsxwife, @leequifey, @blacklightsposts, @srt-sah, @scar-letwidow, @likefirenrain, @autorasexy, @natsbiggestfan1, @lex13cm, @iheartjohansson, @tofu9162, @nothanksbye07, @unexpected-character, @natashasilverfox, @acciowriting, @qtreesfanstuff, @mrsrushman

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff

212 notes · View notes