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catslvrr · 10 months ago

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you know all my dreams (you were one)

danielle marsh x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: Being a superhero involves a lot of saving, like saving people from burning buildings, saving cats stuck in trees, and even saving yourself from being evicted from your apartment. There’s one thing that you haven’t saved yet, and that’s your relationship with Danielle.

Contains: cursing, blood, violence, death, cliche hero stuff

You would like to believe that you are a good roommate.

But when you come tumbling through the window, landing with a raucous thud, all you have the strength to do is squeeze your eyes shut and pray to the heavens that your roommate graciously ignores you. Again.

This is the fourth time in a week that you have managed to enter your room in such a manner. You rely on the fact that your roommate is abnormally nocturnal and is most likely asleep by now.

You grimace as you remember that one time you accidentally crashed through her window, blacked out, and woke up to her grim face as she poked you with her foot. It wasn’t that far off from how she originally found out you were Spider-Woman two years ago.

It had been a rough day. You didn’t leave exactly scot-free after fending off the attempted escape of some maximum security prisoners at the Raft.

This attempt may have been catalyzed by the recent blackout that you may have caused by fighting off another escape attempt, but who’s to say that’s the case?

Regardless, all escapees were given a scenic swing, free of charge, straight back to prison—a temporary one anyway. Now all you had to worry about was making it home in one piece.

By the time you reach home, the muscles in your arms giving in from the endless web-slinging, you don’t have enough energy in you to ease your landing (which really just meant trying to land on cool superhero poses). You swoop right onto the floor, face-down and limbs sprawled out like a measly bug helplessly trapped in a web.

You’re not entirely sure of the full extent of your injuries in the moment—mostly because of the way your whole body is burning, reminiscent of the building you were thrown into, but you’re pretty confident you have at least multiple bruised ribs, a black eye, and a mild concussion.

“So, all things considered,” you say half-heartedly to no one in particular. “Not too bad.”

(Future note: You actually also had one fractured toe.)

You’re happily drifting off into unconsciousness, with nothing but the belated, slightly panicked thought of whether you locked your door or not, when three sudden strikes at your door jolt you awake.

Suppressing a groan, you roll over and pull yourself up as best as possible, ignoring the way your ribs scream at you. God, you were in so much pain. You let out a breathy exhale and even muster a crooked smile, even though you know your roommate can’t see you.

“Roomie! What’s up?”

A pause.

You cringe. Seriously, ‘Roomie’? You should’ve gone with the name you saw on the leasing contract.

(When you first saw it, you thought that the lease was some sort of scam, because your roommate’s signature looked like someone trying to draw Australia from memory. Upon further questioning of the landlord, you were left with the information that your new roommate, Haerin, was indeed real.)

Before you can even apologize for your lame attempt at a greeting, Haerin’s response comes curtly.

“There was a crash.”

You pick up on a slight inflection of curiosity in Haerin’s tone—is glad that despite her nosiness, she didn’t decide to barge in and see you in your full Spider-suit glory. You force out a chuckle, hoping your roommate doesn’t notice the strain.

“Oh—right. I just fell. Tripped over my own feet. I mean, while dancing. Well. Trying to, you know?”

Your embarrassment grows with every word that bumbles out of your mouth, and when the heat in your cheeks is too much to bear, you manage out a simple:

“Yep,” to eloquently finish it all off. You cross your fingers and hope your roommate doesn’t question the fact that there is no music playing at all.

You barely hear a non-committal hum over the pounding in your ears, and only release your breath when you hear the familiar obnoxious typing of keys, finding your heartbeat in tandem with its rhythm.

There are some things you can always depend on, and one of those things is Haerin’s perpetual typing as she attempts to finish her journalism assignments at the last minute. The incessant clicking of the keyboard gradually becomes soothing, almost therapeutic. You pass out before you can even register any sliver of drowsiness.

And then you wake up to a deafening bang and splinters of your doors ricocheting toward you.

Reflexively, you flick your wrist, effectively webbing any stray pieces of your door to the ceiling. But you also web your roommate’s face. There are a few seconds of silence as you both just stare at each other.

“Funny how you find me in my Spider-Woman cosplay,” you chuckle awkwardly. “Because I’m not, you know, Spider-Woman.”

Haerin slowly peels the web off her face, face wholly impassive, still menacingly holding the ax. “I’m hungry. Buy me Wingstop.”

It takes you an hour to get the Wingstop back home. Ten minutes was dedicated to a mini meet-and-greet.

“What the fuck, Haerin,” you say with a mouth full of lemon pepper fries. “You broke my door down with an ax.”

“I was hungry,” she replies matter-of-factly, as if that’s a reasonable justification for the insane property damage she just inflicted. “But you were also not responding for sixteen hours.”

“I was out for sixteen hours?”

“A bit of an exaggeration. Maybe around 10.”

“Why do you even have an ax anyway?”

“Look at where we live,” Haerin clicks her tongue. “And you being Spider-Woman just slaps a big target on our backs.”

“Pause,” you raise your hand and stop chewing. “I’m not Spider-Woman. I’m just… a huge fan.”

Haerin’s exasperated eyes flicker to yours.

“I’m serious!”

“Yeah right,” she scoffs. “You make way too many spider puns.”

“Like what?”

“Like ‘I’ll swing by’, or ‘I’m kinda tangled up in something right now’,” she explains with air quotes.

You noisily take a sip of a lemonade you bought from a random stall. “Huh.”

“So,” you chew thoughtfully. “Hypothetically, if I was Spider-Woman, how would you react? Would you tell anyone?”

Haerin scans you, still wearing the Spider-suit, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, ungracefully shoving chicken tenders in your mouth with ranch dribbling down your chin. “I’ve known for, like, three months.”

You almost knock the ranch cup over in shock. “What?”

You swallow the chicken tender too quickly, and have to take a breather because you almost choke on it. “How—I mean, why would you think that?”

“You discarded one of your broken web-shooters in my room.”

“Oh. That’s where it went,” you scratch your cheek. “So… you won’t tell anyone, right?”

Haerin smiles. “Only if you pay for the door.”

You hear the screeching of a chair against the floor, hear the imposing footsteps headed toward your room. You feel something poke you. It’s probably the handle of that stupid ax she’s so attached to.

“You good?”

You respond with an unintelligible noise.

Another poke. “Rent’s due soon, you know.”

You roll over with a groan and pull off your mask. “Spare me some sympathy, I’m dying.”

“No you’re not. You’ve had worse.”

Haerin squats down to your level and dabs a cut on your forehead, leaving a burning sting. “Ow!”

You stay mum as Haerin wipes your face free of grime and blood. It’s rare, but when Haerin patches you up, there’s a tinge of gratefulness that twists your heart, and you know it’s better to leave it unspoken. That’s just how you two are.

You break the silence after a while. “I really need to find a job, don’t I?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Haerin replies. “I think you should start your own business: Spider-Eats.”

“Like… Uber Eats?”

“Exactly,” Haerin nods proudly. “But you don’t need to pay for gas, because you just swing over. And I’m sure people will tip you because you’re Spider-Woman.”

“Huh. That’s actually a really good idea.”

As you shuffle out of your Spider-suit and wince at the way your bloody clothes stick to yourself, you make a mental note to start designing and coding a Spider-Eats app. And to also do laundry again. You languidly stretch your limbs, trying to ignore the aches and pains.

“Thanks, doc,” you grin at Haerin. “I feel better already.”

Haerin nods and walks out to the living room. You hear some faint rustling, and the smell reaches you first: pepperoni pizza. You can practically hear an orchestra of trumpets and horns and trombones sing as Haerin re-enters your room, like an angel from heaven, holding three boxes of pizza. It’s even from the same parlor joint the two of you always loiter around.

“Wait,” you pull a can of grape Fanta out of her hand and toward you with a web. “I’ve always wanted to try something.”

Haerin watches as you dangle from the ceiling upside-down and crack open the can. You bring it to your mouth and attempt to drink it, only for you to choke and spill it on your floor.

“Oops.”

After that sad display, you both find yourselves in a familiar position: sitting cross-legged on the floor across from each other, absolutely devouring the food you’ve chosen to be a victim to your outrageous appetite. It comes with being a superhero.

“Seriously, Haerin,” you sigh in satisfaction. “I love you so much.”

You and Haerin mostly eat in silence and scroll on your phones until all three boxes are demolished. You pack up all the boxes and push them to the side, flopping into a starfish position and feeling bloated already.

“You know,” Haerin starts, her voice surprisingly sincere. “Tomorrow’s the day.”

You slowly exhale. “Yeah.”

She flops down beside you. The two of you stare at the LED strips (set to red and blue) that you both went to hell and back trying to tape on the edges of the ceiling.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

You offer a small smile. “Nah. You know how it is.”

The two of you lie there for a while until you both fall asleep.

Unfortunately, being a superhero is not all glitz and glamor. You find yourself to be quite the average Joe, living an ordinary life. At the end of the day, you’re just an engineering college student with no job. Well, besides the occasional side gig of being a masked vigilante.

You tend to relish the mundane moments these days, and maybe it’s the age. (Haerin would roll her eyes if she heard you say this.) Those fleeting moments where you can bask in the serenity of a night without any pings from the local police database you hacked into, although often only lasting several minutes, are valuable to you. Sitting on rooftops and indulging in the view that is the city skyline at night—you never get sick of it.

You used to hate this—being human, that is. After the bite all those years ago, being Spider-Woman was riveting. The novelty of your superpowers made you feel competent. Made you feel like someone. (Only after you persevered through the beginner's clumsiness.) Of course, there are the not so great parts of still being human. Like attending mandatory labs, dealing with group project partners who go M.I.A., and the exorbitant rental rates. Regardless, you believe the good still outweighs the bad.

But like most good things in your life, they never stay. How foolish of you, to think that your newfound powers could somehow transcend the inevitability of pain and loss. If anything, you face it more now.

That youthful naivety led to more trouble than you can handle. That night when you swung past that robbery at the bodega, without a care in the world, unwittingly sealing the fate of your aunt. Any last connection you had to your family was violently torn from your grasp.

It was your fault. And nothing can change that. It haunts you every waking hour of the day, manifests itself as a wicked virus, and its suffocating tendrils latch onto you on the nights when you’ve delved too deep into your own thoughts.

You try to block it out now, but the best you can do is repeat to yourself that it’s a reminder. A reminder of who Spider-Woman has to be and what she means to the city. An unwavering hero who stands for justice and protects everyone. A hero who does the right thing.

You hum to yourself as you push the door open with your shoulder, exiting the shop with a bouquet of pale purple forget-me-nots. You shove your hands into the front pocket of your hoodie after adjusting your backpack, slightly shivering at the crisp chill of the early morning.

You greet the local store owners as you pass by, even giving a hand in moving crates or supplies to help set up shop. It would be so much easier to just swing to the cemetery, but there’s a sense of reverence you feel you need to uphold, and the only way to do that is just to visit as yourself. No mask, no secret identity. Just you.

You’ve just crossed the threshold to the cemetery with one step when there’s a prickling sensation on your skin. As you get closer to her grave, the discomfort only grows, and so you swing to the nearest tree and perch yourself there.

And then you see her. In the flesh.

“Danielle?” You whisper to yourself, dumbfounded. What was she doing back here, after all these years?

Danielle stills for a moment, and so do you. She turns around and eyes the surroundings as if she heard your voice. You duck and burrow yourself deeper within the leaves.

You observe her quietly, donning her own bouquet of roses, and you smile wryly at the sight of them. Of course, she remembers her favorite flowers. Danielle sits at the grave for a while, her lips moving as if talking, but the music blasting in your headphones blocks it out. You don’t try to eavesdrop.

She’s dyed her hair blonde now, and you didn’t think it possible, but she stands out even more. The color suits her—it matches her personality, akin to a warm and inviting sunflower. Seeing her treat the grave with such care and tenderness makes your heart pang. You grip the tree branches tighter to try to steel yourself, swallowing the guilt and heartache that arises. You don’t expect anything less from her. She’s still so kind and loving even after what you did.

She takes out a small pouch, eventually settling down and crocheting. You’re surprised for some reason, but you also make yourself comfortable in the tree. Even though you’re a hundred feet apart, being in the same vicinity of her fills your body with a sense of repose. You allow yourself to believe that you’re sitting next to each other, still friends, grieving together, and you think that helps you heal a bit.

Half an hour passes before you feel a droplet hit your face. And then another. You and Danielle look up at the same time, only to see the billowing clouds roll in.

Without a second thought, you slip your mask on and shimmy out of your clothes, fishing an umbrella out of your backpack before webbing it to the tree. You clear your throat as you land behind her, as gently as possible so as to not scare her.

“Need this, Miss?” You forcefully deepen your voice, holding out the umbrella above Danielle’s head.

She turns around, lips slightly parted in shock, and it takes all your willpower to not visibly tremble.

“Thank you,” she smiles sweetly. You wonder if she would greet you like this if she knew who you really were. “Let me give you something in return.”

Danielle hands you a crochet ribbed beanie, a bright red just like the roses she brought, with a white pom pom on top.

“This one took me a few days.”

It’s incredibly endearing, but you’re panicking at her presence so you can only express your gratitude with an awkward, “Thanks!”, voice crack included, before slinging to the nearest building.

You make sure to wear it on the way home.

Haerin notices it as soon as you return.

“What’s with the new look?” She asks, not looking away from her laptop.

You set an iced Americano for her on the coffee table, and then proceed to drape yourself on the sofa, feet nudging Haerin’s side to annoy her. She chooses to ignore you rather than resort to violence only because you bought her coffee. She also chooses to ignore how your suit is still wet from the rain outside, droplets of water permeating the sofa. You take off the beanie, making sure to gently lay it on the table before slipping your mask off.

You rest your head against the arm of the sofa and close your eyes, but all you can think about is Danielle. The sincerity in her eyes as she gifted you the beanie and her saccharine voice rings out in your mind. You lay there and reminisce in silence for a while. You end up falling asleep for a few minutes.

Then Haerin wakes you up.

“Hey.” She slaps your foot. “Answer my question.”

“What—oh.” You mumble in confusion, trying to regain your senses. “I saw… someone at the cemetery.”

She finally turns to give you a deadpan expression. “Be more specific. A ghost? One of your many archnemeses?”

“Worse,” you rub your face tiredly. “Danielle.”

Her typing pauses. “Wait, the childhood best friend you told me about?”

“Yeah.”

“The one you ghosted?”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“The one you pitifully pine over?”

“Well—yeah.”

Haerin lets out a low whistle. “She gave you that?”

“Yeah,” you murmur. “She didn’t know it was me.”

“You should keep it that way,” Haerin says. “It’d suck to open up old wounds after so long.”

“I know.” You puff your cheeks out. “And that’s not even the end of it. I spent forty bucks on flowers just to leave it to rot in a backpack in a tree.”

She glances at the wet puddle you created on the couch. “We can go back tomorrow and get it?”

“It’s okay,” you reply, opening your eyes to the pouring rain outside. You hope Danielle made it home okay. “I’m gonna wait for the rain to die out a bit and then head out again to investigate that weird case. I’ll put the flowers where they belong on the way there.”

“Is there a new lead?” You can practically hear Haerin’s ears perk up.

“Yeah, all the reports of the disappearances seem to pop up in the same area. I just checked for a location that shares an equal distance to all of them and came up with an abandoned warehouse.”

Haerin sits in thought for a second before asking, “Can I come with? You know how the college blog always relies on me for Spider-Woman content.”

“Fine.” You begrudgingly acquiesce. “Only if you get a cool shot of me.”

Haerin takes out her camera and snaps a quick photo of you.

“How about this?” She turns the camera around to show you the result.

You scoff in offense. “Seriously?”

“Is it not flattering enough?” Haerin teases, wrestling the camera away from you.

“I look like a wet dog!”

You web the camera to yourself and delete the photo.

“Stop abusing your powers.” Haerin clicks her tongue. “Go web a towel to clean this mess up.”

“What a coincidence,” you cheerfully ignore her. “The rain’s stopped.”

Like a miracle, the rain has cleared out, the darker clouds making way for the sun. You web a towel to dry your suit (but not the couch or floor) and slip your mask back on again.

“Alright,” you step out onto the balcony and turn to Haerin. “You want a ride there? Uber? Spuber…?”

“Let’s just stick to Spider-Eats.”

“Yeah.”

“And, no thanks,” she winces. “You almost swung into a pole last time.”

“Oops,” you say with no sign of regret. “Anyway, I texted you the coords. Meet you there.”

You hop on the balcony railing and salute Haerin before proceeding to fall backwards with your hands behind your head. The rush as you swing through the city is unmatchable. You savor the wind rushing against you, the boisterous noise of cars honking and mindless chatter zooming in and out of your ears.

You’re back at the cemetery in no time, and after checking if anyone’s around, you stand before your aunt’s grave once again. Danielle’s roses are still lying there. You wipe some raindrops off the headstone before laying your bouquet down. Then, you’re off again. There’ll be time for that later.

The abandoned warehouse is not too far from the docks, a very typical location for people who are up to no good. You perch on the roof of a building opposite it, where Haerin is already squatting and taking photos. You can spot her motorcycle stationed in the parking lot behind the building. She barely flinches as you tap her shoulder.

“How did you get up here?”

“A good journalist never reveals her secrets.”

“Isn’t it ‘sources’?”

Haerin shrugs. “Same thing.”

You squat next to her. “So… did you notice anything before I came?”

“I did some research. Think this warehouse is registered under the name of just Jace.”

“Just Jace? That’s such a sick name.”

Haerin doesn’t bother to correct you.

“Name doesn’t ring a bell though.” You squint and scan the seemingly innocuous warehouse. “And I’m not picking up any heat signals… looks like nobody’s home.”

“How are we getting in?”

“This is a job for Spider-Woman!”

You leap off the roof and swing around the warehouse, sweeping the perimeter to search for a way in.

“There’s always an entrance when you can climb walls,” you muse to yourself.

You open up a voice channel as you crawl up the side of the warehouse, eventually reaching the roof where there is a conveniently open skylight. “Bingo!”

“Psst, Haerin,” you say. “There’s an open window on the roof.”

“Awesome,” she replies, although you note that her tone lacks excitement. “Can you get in and open the door for me?”

“The door?” You peer inside the open skylight. “You mean the gigantic sliding doors?”

“Don’t tell me you’re too weak to open those.”

“No,” you huff. “It’s just that… wouldn’t it be too loud?”

Haerin’s response is reluctant. “I guess.”

“You know what that means,” you sing-song. “It’s time for a Spuber ride!”

There’s some silence followed by a long sigh.

“I thought we agreed to not use that anymore,” she grumbles. “Hurry up and get back here.”

Haerin’s pick up and drop off is quick and easy, much to both of your satisfaction. You asked her to give you a five star rating, to which she replied, “That took literally less than thirty seconds.”

Inside the warehouse is dark, with only some dim flickering lights providing you with a shadowed view of the interior. The warehouse is stocked with looming cargo containers.

“Seems pretty filled for an abandoned warehouse,” Haerin muses, her voice echoing in the void. The silence feels foreboding, which makes you glad that Haerin asked to come, not that you would ever admit that.

“There’s gotta be something here,” you run your hand over the undulating surface of the steel containers. “A secret room, or some complicated contraption.”

“What about that?” Haerin points at a scrape mark on the floor in front of one of the containers, which coincidentally matches the circumference of a quarter circle.

“Oh. That was fast.”

You walk over and tug on the latch, before pulling the door open.

“No worries,” you strain out. It’s heavier than you thought. “Leave it all to me.”

“If you say so,” Haerin says with a smug smile on her face, standing there with no care in the world.

Once you finally get it open, inside the container is a set of stairs that lead downwards to an ominous tunnel.

“Totally not creepy,” you laugh nervously and gesture to Haerin. “Ladies first?”

She rolls her eyes before making her way down. The tunnel is fairly well-kept and it’s not long before you find yourselves in the secret room. It’s a lab, wires running hazardously on the ground, bits and pieces of machinery scattered on tables and filling up boxes, and computer screens displaying complex data and research.

“Okay,” you drawl. “Kinda getting evil mastermind vibes.”

You ruffle through some papers lying around. It seems to be sketches of some cylinder machine with cogs and complicated wiring in it. After inspecting the lab for a bit longer, you both come to the same conclusion.

“He’s trying to time travel,” Haerin notes as she snaps some shots of the lab.

You nod. “His experiments are probably what’s causing all those people to disappear into thin air.”

“What were the statements of the witnesses again?”

“Like the victims were just sucked into an invisible portal.”

Haerin pulls up some files on one of the computers. “It makes sense. It looks like he’s trying to time travel to the year his daughter died.”

You both are silent at this information. Until that silence is broken by a screeching sound outside, one that oddly sounds like the gigantic sliding doors opening.

The two of you immediately break out into a sprint and up the stairs. You don’t hesitate to scoop up Haerin once you’re out of the container and soar up to the roof with a web.

“He’ll know someone was here,” Haerin whispers.

“I know,” you sigh. “Hopefully it won’t lead to anything. We’ll have to come back later.”

Like the true neighborhood-friendly Spider-Woman you are, you give Haerin a Spuber ride back to her motorcycle. She revs the engine once to get your attention, then bids you farewell with a teasing “Race you home!” as she accelerates into the distance.

“So not fair!” You shout out at her retreating figure, swinging to catch up. You’re straining your arms to keep up with Haerin’s motorcycle, but a police car passes by with sirens on, and you know what you need to do. At the last second, you snap your left wrist to make a breakneck turn. Haerin will understand.

You can barely keep your eyes open as Minji nudges you with her elbow.

“Late nights playing 2K again?” The image of her stupid grin floats by in your mind.

“Something like that,” you whine, flicking your head up so your lab goggles fall on your nose. “I should’ve skipped today.”

Minji pulls up the DXF files you made for the project and resumes with the task of readjusting the ratio of some gears. “You don’t even need your lab goggles for today.”

“I look smarter with them on.”

“Yeah, right.” Minji peeks at your rough outlines of the gearbox transmission on paper. Some edges are ripped and it’s crinkled under your folded arms. “Damn. When are you gonna digitize that and render it?”

You slump back in your chair and close your eyes. “When I get a good night’s rest.”

“So, never.”

“Yeah.”

“The assignment’s due next week.”

“Yeah.”

“I hate you.” But she doesn’t. Because the two of you have been lab partners ever since you tripped on her lab coat in class a year ago and knocked over a bunch of her circuits and wires, which, to this day, she still blames you for, which is ridiculous, because who on earth owns a lab coat long enough to the point where it spills on the floor? But, you digress. Her lab coat is now properly tailored.

You’re half a second from drooling and snoring when there’s that prickling sensation on your skin again, and the hairs on the back of your neck shoot up, leaving you with that sinking feeling in your stomach. You sit up so abruptly that you almost slam your forehead onto the table.

Minji’s arm flies in front of your chest to steady you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you stammer. “I just… need to go to the bathroom.”

You grab your backpack and sprint out of the lab, navigating yourself to the nearest exit. You’re on the roof of the building in no time, in your suit, and you immediately see what’s wrong. There’s a man in the middle of campus, floating above the ground, and whatever objects are around seem to be gravitating toward him. The objects begin to orbit around him, creating a mini tornado.

You try to call Haerin, but she doesn’t pick up. You try to call Minji too, but no luck. Your stomach coils with anxiety. You don’t have long to dwell on it though.

As objects slam into one another, students begin to file out of class and understandably panic. Campus security is screaming and directing people to emergency exits, but the whirlwind only gets worse and things are smashing into windows and buildings.

“This isn’t good,” you mutter, immediately diving into action. You web benches, bicycles, poles, and trees in all sorts of directions to disrupt their trajectory toward anyone. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a blur of orange amidst green, and hear a very distinct meow.

“Tiko!”

You hurtle yourself toward the flying tree and narrowly shoot through the branches, successfully grabbing Tiko. You were going to plop him down somewhere safe, but it seems he had other plans, because he crawls into your backpack and nestles inside it, sticking his head out.

“Hang tight, Tiko,” you scream, swinging toward the mystery man. “I’m going to stop this!”

The man now stands on a rooftop, the debris around him thrashing against the building which is threatening to fall apart. You land not too far from him.

“Hi!” You yell over the deafening winds.

He whips his head around, raising his palm to hurl a rock at you. “Stay away!”

“Wait!” It narrowly misses you as you skillfully duck just in time. “You’re Just Jace, right?”

“How do you know my name?” He falters for a second, taking a step back. “…And it’s just Jace.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?” You mumble to yourself in confusion.

You shake your head to focus on the situation at hand. “Please stop this, Just Jace. You’re hurting others!”

“I… I know!” Jace’s hands tightly grip his hair in frustration. “I don’t know why it’s not working.”

As his ire flames up, so do the winds, dust and small rocks starting to obscure your vision.

“Please, calm down!” You desperately yell, slowly making your way toward him with arms raised as a sign of peace. “Let me help you!”

The sound of police sirens grows louder, and you can hear the whirring of helicopter blades behind you. The police helicopter sways in the midst of the tornado, and you fear for both Jace and the police.

“No, no, no!” You try to wave the police away, knowing their presence would only distress Jace more.

“Police! Hands in the air!”

Police officers begin to rappel down from the helicopter, guns aimed at Jace. He scrambles in fear, sending rubble hurling at them in defense. Bullets fly out immediately after.

The sound of gunshots rings through your ear as you expertly maneuver through the ricochets and try to keep everyone safe. You burst through the combat and tackle Jace whilst he’s busy with the officers, trying to Spuber him to somewhere safe.

He wrestles in your grasp, screaming at you to let him go. Tiko gives him a few smacks in response. As you swing through a window, you release your hold on him, both of you rolling over to catch your balance.

You lean against the wall, taking a moment to catch your breath. You’re rubbing your head that’s throbbing in pain, not noticing Jace’s sudden silence.

“The police really have the worst timing, am I right?” You awkwardly laugh.

You look up to see Jace stalking toward you, like a predator to prey, a dark intensity in his eyes. Any trace of the Jace you encountered before is gone. You bounce on your feet immediately.

“Jace?” You say hesitantly, walking backward. “We can talk about this…”

“You broke it,” he snarls. That’s when you notice what he’s clasping onto so stiffly. It looks awfully similar to those sketches you and Haerin saw in that secret lab. He lets it go and it clatters on the floor.

“I didn’t mean to,” you try to ameliorate the situation. “I was trying to save you.”

Your pleas don’t seem to reach his ears. He just simply repeats, “You broke it.”

“No need to get so upset,” you laugh sheepishly, hands in the air, discreetly scanning for the nearest exit. “I know a really good tech support guy.”

Your skin tingles. Jace then lunges at you, and out of instinct, you web onto the broken device and you swing it around to slam it into the space between you and him. The device makes contact with the concrete and shatters into pieces, shards of glass flying everywhere. For a moment, you feel as if time has slowed down, and everything sounds muffled, like you’re sinking deeper and deeper into the ocean.

And then everything goes black.

You wake up with a gasp, cold sweat sticking to your body. Haerin steps back, surprised. She’s holding her beloved ax, its handle hovering dangerously close to your cheek.

“You’re awake.”

“What?” You look around frantically, hands squeezing the sofa. “How am I back here?”

“What do you mean?” Haerin frowns. “You fell asleep.”

You stand up and squish your face against the window. The college campus is untouched. “What happened to Just Jace? Is Tiko alright?”

Her eyebrow furrows. “Who’s Just Jace? And Tiko the campus cat?”

You don’t respond, still lost in your own thoughts.

“Did you get a concussion on the way to the cemetery?”

You stop pacing and look down, and sure enough, you’re still in your suit, wet from the rain just like two days ago, and the beanie Danielle crocheted is lying on the table.

Then it dawns on you.

“Oh my god, Haerin.” Your jaw is slack. “I just traveled back in time.”

“What.”

It takes you fifteen minutes to sum everything up.

“But the weird thing is that the device didn’t seem to be done when we were in the secret lab.” You bite your cheek in thought. “I don’t know how he would’ve been able to get it working in the next two days.”

“He probably knew someone was onto him when we left the door open,” Haerin says, searching up ‘If you travel back in time, will you break time and space if you get into contact with someone?’ on Google. Most of the results are fruitless.

“That makes sense,” you nod. “But I wonder why he would end up at our college campus out of all places.”

“Maybe it’s the college his daughter went to?”

“Right,” you nod again. You prop your laptop on your lap as you start scouring through the map of the area around the college. “I need to know where he first appears so I can stop him before he gets to campus.”

Haerin ponders for a second. “You mentioned that there was some research on nuclear fusion, right?”

“Yeah… hold on.” You zoom into a nuclear power plant just a few miles from the college. “The device must need a lot of energy to work. He probably got it from here.”

“So,” Haerin hums. “What’s the plan?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Haerin’s voice is unimpressed over the static. “This was your plan?”

“You know me,” you quip ironically while weaving in between the blasts of energy that Jace is throwing at you. “My plan was to come up with a plan now.”

“And have you thought of one?”

“Not really!” You coolly avoid his punches and slide in between his legs. “I’ll call you back!”

When you manage to catch Jace off guard with a roundhouse kick, he stumbles and you use the opportunity to swoop into a vent to hide. You did not expect this alternate version of Jace to be so hostile. You tried to talk to him, really.

(You lower your web bit by bit as you dangle upside-down behind Jace. His back is facing you, clearly focused on wiring his device to the generator.

You tap his back. “Hey.”

He swivels around so fast he almost loses his balance, but immediately regains it and squares up. “Stay away!”

“No, no.” You plop on the floor. “I’m not here to hurt you. I know you’re trying to time travel. I’m from the future, actually.”

There’s an air of hope in Jace’s voice. “The device worked?”

“About that,” you rub your nape and flash an embarrassed smile under the mask. “I kinda had to smash it onto the ground for it to work. You were kind of trying to kill me. But no biggie, I forgive easily!”

Jace narrows his eyes. You stiffen as you feel dread trickle into your stomach. His fist jerks out and you jump back just in time, feeling the wind from the blow brush against your face.

“What the hell, man?” You pout. “I literally just forgave you.”

He doesn’t waste time and continues with a flurry of punches. “I must’ve been attacking you for a reason.”

You shake your head as you roll to the side. “Don’t say I didn’t try to be nice.”)

“Come out and face me!” Jace yells, his voice reverberating throughout the power plant. “You’re nothing but a pest.”

You silently crawl out of the vent and onto a supporting beam. Once you’re positioned right above him, you web him up, landing a nasty uppercut. You don’t have time to celebrate though, because on the way down, he grabs your ankles and pulls you down back to Earth.

“Oof!”

“This ends now.” He hisses, blood dripping from his mouth. He charges toward you, bearing a metal rod in his hand.

“Really getting into the villain role now, huh?” You joke, voice strained as you leap off the ground and kick him square in the face. “Give me some time to think of a name for you.”

You side step another one of his tackle attempts. “Oh! How about Prime Time?”

The only response you get is Jace surging forward with more punches and kicks. “You could just say you don’t like it!”

Jace doesn’t deign you with an answer. He unexpectedly throws a crate toward you, and just as you duck to avoid it, he gets his revenge with a successful blow to your chest with the metal rod.

You slam against the wall, slumping as the wind is knocked out of you.

“Like I said,” Jace says with heavy breaths, towering over you and looking down with a sneer. “This ends now.”

You can only see his silhouette because of the light shining through from the entrance to the power plant behind him, and this gives you an idea. You muster up any remaining willpower and web onto two pillars, pulling yourself toward it and using the momentum to swing kick Jace.

You both fly through the air and outside the power plant, crashing on the roof of a passing car. You wince as you feel the dent in the car. Jace rolls down to the hood of the car. Logically, the driver starts steering off course because the windshield is blocked and they’re probably freaking out at the fact that there are two injured people on their car.

Your body moves before your mind processes what’s going on—you’re webbing people out of the way of the speeding car, even though you’re still lying on your side. But the car spins out of control too fast for you to react. It ends up ramming into the front of a cafe. The impact of the crash sends you flying into the glass wall and into the cafe. You’re getting deja vu: glass is shattered and people start screaming and running away.

“Oh no,” you groan, trying to ignore the burning pain. “This will not look good in the press release.”

What’s also burning is the car that you’re pinned under—the heat from the crackling fire licking at you, so hot that you can feel it through the spandex. All you can see is the thick smoke that blankets the cafe. From the shadows emerges Jace.

“Please,” you wheeze, feeling like you’ve been hit by a train. Which actually happened once, an experience you wouldn’t recommend to anyone. “This isn’t what your daughter would’ve wanted.”

“Don’t mention her again.” He digs his boot into the car, forcing pressure on you, and you’re exerting all your muscles in your arms to hold the car up. “And some superhero you are. Look at what’s left of this place.”

You strain your neck to stare at the inside of the cafe, and the sight horrifies you. It’s a complete wreckage. Your eyes zero on blonde hair that peeks out under a table that’s been flipped over. Your blood runs cold and there’s a sharp pain in your gut, like a knife sickly twisting itself over and over again.

Jace chuckles cruelly at your silence. “What, no more snarky remarks?”

She can’t be dead. It’s all your fault—you were too busy slinging people out of the way to notice where the car was headed. How did she not get out in time?

“No,” you choke out. Your lip trembles pathetically. “Turn back time. Please.”

He follows your gaze and smirks. “See someone you know? I guess now you know how it feels.”

Any empathy you felt for him is overridden by the sheer anger that engulfs you. Your body shakes with rage. What comes out next is guttural and raw.

“I’ll kill you,” you spit. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Jace turns around and cackles, and you wonder how everything went to hell so fast. You wonder how he changed so fast. He’s walking out of the cafe, to the college campus probably, and as much as you want to grab him and beat him until he’s blue, there’s something more important. Or rather, someone.

The adrenaline from the rage earlier is still coursing through your veins and you use your remaining strength to push the car off you. (You wanted to hurl it at him too but your arms were failing). You know exactly what you need to do. You sling a web to the device he’s holding loosely, then repeat that same swinging motion that you did the other timeline, slamming it so hard on the ground you almost feel like your arm will rip off.

Time slows again, and you find yourself in a familiar position, deep in the abyss. The world goes black.

It takes you three times before you realize you’re stuck in a time loop. You don’t know why, but you only get sent back a few hours to the nuclear power plant. You try everything, anything to keep Danielle safe. You know it’s selfish, that you should be caring about everyone else too, but you can’t stand the thought of her dying. You’ve already lost her once, back then when you left her. You can’t be the reason for the world losing her.

In the first loop, you spray the wheels of the car with webs to prevent it from crashing in the first place, but the car stopping in the middle of the road only causes another car to veer off the streets and into the cafe. In the second loop, Jace hurls a boulder mid fight and despite you redirecting it to the building next to the cafe, that building ends up collapsing… on top of the cafe. Everytime, you saving other people leads to Danielle dying in some way.

It’s the third loop. You’re at the nuclear power plant again, head in your hands, and Jace hasn’t noticed your presence yet. You want to cry. Nothing is working. Maybe this is karma for ghosting Danielle all those years ago. Being a superhero is all about sacrifices—is this the sacrifice you have to make? You thought you would be better at letting go by now.

Haerin’s voice is soft in your ear. “Have we had this conversation before?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “This is the fourth time.”

“I’m sorry I can’t remember. And that our solutions didn’t work out.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re the only thing keeping me sane right now.” You bite your lip. “And it’s my fault anyway.”

There’s some faint rustling of paper and typing.

“Nuclear fusion,” Haerin says after a while. “Have you tried slamming the device into the generator? The sheer energy might just break the loop.”

“I might as well.” Your voice is thick with fatigue. “I have nothing else to lose.”

You don’t even bother to greet Jace this time, just immediately pulling the device toward you and slamming it onto the generator. The reaction is instantaneous—the device explodes and the generator rumbles, sparks flying. Waves of energy start pulsing out in irregular patterns. It’s so strong that you’re knocked off your feet and your back hits a railing.

You’re knocked out again. Maybe you’re setting a new world record.

Hidden under the knitted quilt, you stir, the thin web of strands barely stifling the bite of the morning cold. Someone is sweetly humming a melody that’s on the tip of your tongue. The constant hum finds its way into you, it softens your bones and eases your heart. The constant hum sings, enveloping you, lulling you back into the solace of the darkness.

This tranquility is swiftly broken by you remembering. You launch out of bed, blinking your eyes to gain a hold of your surroundings. You’re in a campervan. Nostalgia washes over you as you realize that this is the campervan Danielle’s family used to take on road trips. You wearily eye the photo frame stuck to the rustic fridge. Gleeful smiles and sand-covered faces adorn the frame, reminding you of what you left behind.

You were known as that quiet kid who had no parents. Any attention you received would consist of pitied stares and hushed whispers. You didn’t mind the loneliness—you were used to it. And your aunt took care of you and showed you love. That was enough. You didn’t think you needed any more love until Danielle moved in next door and changed your life.

She was the first to approach you, holding out a four-leaf clover with a bright smile, saying “Hi! I’m Danielle, you look like you need some good luck!”. It only took you a few months to warm up to her, not that it was hard, because she was so understanding and cheery. She never cared about what other people said at school. She cared about what you had to say, and that’s something you never thought you needed, let alone deserved, until her.

Danielle’s family is equally as sweet, and they welcomed you with open arms. Every few months, they would go on a road trip and you and Danielle would always say farewell with teary eyes and lingering hugs. Until Danielle insisted you tag along, and that’s how it became a tradition.

Lightly caressing miscellaneous decorations as you make your way outside, you take it all in. The gentle twinkle of fairy lights shyly shines through the tinted windows that are littered with stickers and magnets. This caravan was your second home. Inextricably imbued with memories with Danielle, the two of you left no inch of this van unexplored and untouched. Outside, the fresh smell of subdued smoke (bacon and eggs) wafts to you, beckoning you. Your stomach growls. You forget about the ravenous appetite of a superhero.

But you’re not a superhero right now. You’re twelve, not yet bitten, meant to be blissfully unaware of the terrors that await you as you grow up. You run outside to find Danielle. She’s preparing a plate of breakfast for you.

“Danielle!” You rush toward her and tackle her in a hug, tears subconsciously spilling onto your cheeks. She steadies herself so that the plate of food isn’t knocked over.

She gasps out your name, concern etched in her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head and nuzzle her neck, sniffling like a baby. “I’m just glad you’re my best friend.”

Your voice is so high and prepubescent, which makes you burst into laughter out of nowhere. Danielle laughs with you. “I’m glad you’re mine, too.”

“Where’s your parents?”

You lean back as she tilts her head to the barbeque grill a few yards away. “Cooking up their breakfast.”

You eventually let go, quite reluctantly, and take a moment to admire her. You’re smitten. Her hair is brown, bangs slightly ruffled, and she’s sporting a toothy grin. You’re so overwhelmed with love you can’t even speak, but this is soon overshadowed by guilt. This is the girl whose heart you broke.

Nothing about you gets past Danielle, so she immediately notices your wavering.

“You okay?” She intertwines your fingers together “Let’s eat breakfast.”

‘I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling a wave of nausea hit you. “I feel a bit dizzy.”

She quickly sets down the plate of bacon and eggs, her hands instantly finding their place on your waist.

“Maybe you should get some more rest,” she pouts, gently squeezing your waist. You try to suppress the shiver that this causes.

“Yeah,” you agree without a sliver of resistance. “Come with me?”

Danielle sends you a knowing smile. “Okay.”

You both make your way back into the van, ditching breakfast. You climb into the comfort of the bed, lifting the same knitted quilt so that it hugs both of you. Your body relaxes, for the first time in a very long time, and you bask in the heat radiating off Danielle.

As your eyes involuntarily close, you can hear the faint sound of ticking. You’re unsure of what is to come, but the curl in your stomach unfolds and pardons you, allowing you to feel Danielle’s love. For just one more time.

–

There’s a brief moment where you regain a shred of consciousness at the nuclear power plant, but everything is too bright and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. You only feel another wave of energy vibrate against your skin before your vision’s black again. Definitely a world record.

Someone’s playing with your hair. Deft fingers weave through strands of your hair and twirl it, lightly pulling on it before letting go and repeating. You blink your eyes open and are met with Danielle already staring at you. She’s older than the last time-travel episode, but younger than the current her. You’re still smitten.

You’re laying in her bed, in her room, in her house. You surmise it’s probably a sleepover night. She’s wearing those glasses with a clear frame, so it must be midway through senior year. You smile to yourself as you remember that she breaks it just before graduation by sitting on it. (She forgot that she put it on her seat.)

“What are you smiling about?” Danielle pokes your nose. “Are you thinking about how that one kid fell off his chair while falling asleep in class?”

“No,” you giggle as you sit up, nostalgia pervading your chest. “But that was funny though. Thanks for reminding me.”

She’s playing with your fingers now, head tilted with that starry look in her eyes that always leaves you dumbfounded. Your smile slowly fades. You feel like a kid again, even though this was only the two of you from three years ago.

“Danielle,” you say shakily, eyes locked onto your entwined fingers. “Would you believe me if I said I’m from the future?”

She considers your question for a second. “What happens in the future?”

You swallow a lump. Where do you even start? ‘Well, I’m actually gonna ghost you in a few months and we’ll never speak again, but then we meet, well not really—it’s more like I see you, and then you die in a cafe because of me. Oh, and I’m Spider-Woman.’

“You dye your hair blonde,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper. You’re holding back tears. “And you go to college overseas to study.”

Danielle’s face shifts into something sadder, half sympathetic. “That doesn’t sound too far-fetched.”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” your voice cracks. “I do some really bad things in the future, and I’m really sorry.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Danielle tries to lift the mood. “Can’t be worse than the time when you spilled orange juice all over my biology assignment the morning it was due.”

Your rambling teeters on the line of coherence. “I push you away—and I’m such an asshole. But I had to, you have to believe me. I can’t tell you why because it hasn’t happened yet and it will probably break some rule of time-traveling, but I just want you to know that I’m so–”

“Hey,” she cradles your face like you're something delicate. Like you’re not the person who will leave her behind with no explanation. “It’s okay.”

“I miss you so much, Danielle.” It’s all you can say. “I miss you so much.”

Her thumb tenderly swipes away any tears that fall. “I’m right here.”

But she’s not.

You’re sobbing pathetically into her hand. You can’t remember the last time you cried. It must’ve been at your aunt’s funeral. Your head is pounding and even though you’re in the body of your younger self, you can still feel the phantom repercussions of fights with Jace. Danielle continues softly, “I could never hate you, no matter what. All you need to do is talk to me—the me in your world.”

“I love you,” you hiccup, lip quivering. “I never got to say it in my timeline. I hope you know that.”

“You know I do too,” Danielle smiles, bitter-sweet. “Promise me you’ll say it to the other me.”

You nod, looping your pinky finger with hers.

She seems satisfied. “You’ve been through a lot. Let’s get some rest.” She guides you back onto the pillow and onto your side, nestling behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and clasped on your stomach.

The ticking sounds again, and it slowly floods your mind as your vision fades to black.

“Please tell me it’s over,” you plead weakly as you wake up to the sight of peeling plaster on the ceiling. You force your body up, and you see an unconscious Jace collapsed against the wall. The broken device is just a fingertip away from you. This is the room you Spubered him into while distancing him from the police. You’re back.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Tiko hops out of your backpack and rubs his face against yours.

“Hey, buddy,” you coo, scratching his chin. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you around campus.”

You pick yourself up, shaking stray shards of glass off you. You web Jace against the wall, and make sure to add extra to ensure he doesn’t escape. You briefly notice the wrinkles on his face and his calloused hands.

“Some things we have to let go,” you say softly to him, even though he can’t hear you. “I need to take this to find the missing victims.”

You leave a space in your heart to mourn for Jace’s daughter, and genuinely wish the best for him. Tiko’s already run off somewhere. You take the device and stretch your limbs, preparing for the long journey home.

Actually, you have two stops before you go home. First stop is a safe place to change out of your suit and temporarily hide the device.

Second stop. You run to find Danielle. You think that this has been a long time coming, considering that you’ve been running away from her for the past three years.

You’re standing like an idiot outside the cafe, hands in your pockets, just staring at Danielle through the glass wall. She seems to feel the weight of your gaze though, because she eventually looks up and her eyes widen at the sight of you. You wave awkwardly, to which she starts packing up her things in a hurry.

You breath hitches as she says your name. It rolls off her tongue in a way that is so familiar.

“Care to join me on a walk?” You rock back and forth on your heels, avoiding eye contact with her.

Her face is passive. It scares you more than it should. But she complies without any questions. “Okay.”

It takes around twenty minutes to reach your aunt’s grave. You pat the space in front of you as a gesture for Danielle to sit down, and she does.

“Before I start,” you say. “I just wanted to say thank you for visiting my aunt. You didn’t have to.”

But she did. Because that’s what she always does—go above and beyond. You take a deep breath before releasing it. “I’m sorry.”

She nods, showing that she’s listening, but doesn’t respond.

“I… was an asshole,” you clench your jaw and close your eyes. “I said some hurtful things.”

(“Are you avoiding me?” Danielle asks, eyebrows furrowed.

It’s another morning of a school day.

“No,” you exhale deeply. You don’t spare her a glance. “I’ve just been really busy.”

“We’ve both been busy for a while,” she counters, frustration laced in her voice. “But the difference is that we still made time for each other.”

You slam your locker door shut. The spider bite thrums with pain. “Take the hint. I don’t have space for you in my life anymore.”)

“And even after I said those things, you still tried to reach out to me.”

(More unread texts from Danielle. Can we talk? I’m sorry about the other day.

Hey, I’ve been trying to give you space, but I just wanted to check in.

Why are you ignoring me?)

“There’s a reason I ghosted you. Not that I’m trying to justify it, but I just wanted to let you know it wasn’t because of you or anything.”

The other Danielle’s words flash through your mind.

“I love you,” you finally say, and it feels as though there’s this weight lifted off your chest. “I have, for a long time. And I needed to leave you because I love you. Because I was scared.”

Her eyebrows crease in thought. “Because you were scared I didn’t love you back?”

“No—well, not no! Of course I care about that. But that wasn’t my main concern.”

“How do I say this,” you scratch your head. “Oh. You gifted me a beanie the other day. Crocheted by you, red with a white pom pom.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Oh.”

You fiddle with the grass that you’re sitting on. “I accepted a long time ago that anyone close to me will be in danger because of, well, who I am. And being Spider-Woman… it’s a responsibility that I have to commit to. I can’t just fall in love.”

A pause. “Who said you can’t?”

“Well,” you stutter. “It’ll put you in danger. And I have to put my Spider responsibilities first.”

She shifts closer to you. “And what if I’m okay with that?”

“You’d… you’d have to actually like me back anyway.”

Danielle punches you on the shoulder.

“Ow!” You frown. “What was that for?”

“For being an asshole.”

“Oh.”

“You should’ve just talked to me.”

“I know,” you admit. “But I just felt like I couldn’t.”

“I never stopped thinking about you all these years,” Danielle shakes her head. “I was a mess. I wanted to hate you so much, but I just couldn’t. And I hated that even more.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Danielle says, and the look in her eyes tells you that she really does mean it.

You hesitantly reach out toward her. She grabs your hand and moves it to her face. It’s your turn to cradle her, making sure that she’s really here and that this is real. Her smile is teary.

“I love you,” you breathe out. And that’s the only thing you want to say for the rest of your life. To make up for all the times that you didn’t.

“I love you, too.” Her smile is so enchanting and you want to lean in and kiss her.

But gunshots ring out nearby and there’s shouting. You turn to Danielle, distraught. She grabs your phone from your pocket and adds herself as a contact.

“Go,” she nods softly, handing you back your phone. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll tend to your wounds.”

Your eyes flit over to your aunt’s grave. You hope you’ve become a hero she can be proud of. And you thank her for everything. You slip on your mask and stuff your clothes in a backpack.

Being a superhero isn’t all that easy, but you’re glad you have people you love to lean on to relieve the burden. You leap off the ground with confidence, swinging toward the chaos.

Dedicated to user phamphamz... happy early birthday!

Title is from Autumn by Niki :]

#newjeans x reader #newjeans fanfic #newjeans fic #danielle marsh x reader #mo jihye x reader

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444sweetmourninglamb · 14 days ago

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˚𝜗𝜚˚notes ➵joel miller x reader, dbf!joel, f!reader, mutual pining, age gap, no outbreak au, slowburn, angst, tension, read chapter one here !!

It had been a couple of days since your “grad” party, and every day since then, you found yourself thinking about Joel. His strong arms, his brooding frown, his dark hair peppered with grays, the way he looked at you, the way he called you a “good girl”. You tried to push him out of your mind—but Joel had a way of sticking.

You got ready for the day, not expecting to do much but watch TV with your dad. You headed down the stairs and called for him.

“Dad?” No reply, which was odd considering he didn’t have work today. You walked into the kitchen. “Hello? Dad?” Once again, no reply.

You let out a huff of air before making yourself a cup of coffee. As you stood there, waiting for the water to boil, you heard noises in the garage, clinking and chatter. You hesitantly walked to the garage.

“Dad?” You looked around.

“Yes?” He replied, looking up at you.

“I was looking for you, what’re you doing?”

“I’m cleaning out the garage. It’s a mess in here.” He said, looking around at the boxes.

“Okay, I’ll help-” Your words sputtered as you caught sight of Joel, coming into view holding a box. “Uh…I’ll help in a bit.” Fuck. You hoped they didn’t catch your obvious panic at the sight of Joel.

Your eyes lingered on Joel a bit too long. You silently prayed your father didn’t notice your eyes lingering on Joel. Or Joel himself…You would make everything so awkward if they found out about your attraction to Joel. Joel might even stop coming by altogether. God, why did he have to be here today?

You went back to the kitchen and quickly downed your coffee, trying to calm yourself down before entering the garage with Joel.

You went back up to your room and changed into an old white tank top, one you wouldn’t mind getting dirty, and slid on a pair of old dusty sneakers before heading out to the garage.

“Alright, kiddo, why don’t you help Joel with the boxes over there? I’ve got a work call. Sorry, wasn’t expecting t’have ta work on my day off but…you know.” He patted your shoulder before brushing past you into the house.

Not only was it very humid, but your dad just left you alone…with Joel.

“It’s so muggy out here…” you mutter, attempting to fill the silence. He just grunts in response, continuing to look through the box in front of him. You grabbed a box as well and began looking through it, stealing a quick glance at him before turning you attention to the box.

You two continued working in silence, the air feeling sticky, and your shirt sticking to your body due to how much you were sweating.

After a few minutes of looking through the box, you find a small horse carved out of wood. “This is so cute, why’s it in here?” Your voice was full of admiration as you showed him the little horse.

His jaw tightened a bit. “Don’t know.” He replied gruffly, looking down at the box he was rummaging through.

“Well, it’s cute…You think I should bring it in?” You ask, looking over at him.

“Ain’t worth bringin’ in if it’s just gonna be collectin' dust. Give it here.” He stuck his hand out, waiting for you to hand it to him. You looked at it one last time before handing it to him. He looked at it for a moment before scoffing and putting it in the big trash bin.

You finished going through your boxes and glanced around the room to look for another. You grabbed a small crate and stepped onto it to reach the box on the top shelf.

“Careful,” Joel said, placing his hands on your waist to steady you. His huge, rough hands were touching the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up, causing your stomach to flutter and your breath to hitch. You could feel his strength in the way his fingers gripped your sides— not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to know he’s there.

Once you grabbed the box, you stepped off the crate, his hands remaining on your waist. “Could've gotten that for you.” He grumbled.

“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna bother you.” You reply softly, feeling your heart leaping into your throat at the realization of how close his face is to yours. Joel’s face is so rough, yet so handsome. His usually serious mouth is so tempting when relaxed, your eyes involuntarily flickered to them before you tore them back up to meet his eyes.

“It’d be more’f a bother if you’d hurt yourself.” His thumb gently dragged along your waist as he removed his hands. You hated the way your skin ached for his hands to return once they’d left.

You didn’t reply. You couldn’t. Not when he was so close, staring at you with those warm, sultry eyes.

He hesitantly stepped away and walked over to the other side of the garage, putting distance between the two of you. He started looking through the boxes over there, an occasional grunt coming from his side.

You began sorting through the box, old memories flooding your mind.

“Hey, c’mere.” Joel said with that sultry southern drawl makes your lower abdomen tighten. You oblige and walk over.

“What?” You looked over his shoulder, he’s holding an old Polaroid. A photo of you, your dad, Sarah, and Joel. “Oh my God, you guys look so young!” You teased, mostly looking at Joel in the picture.

Now you really don’t get how you didn’t want him before. He has truly always been sexy.

“Damn…that was a lifetime ago, huh?” He chuckled under his breath, leaning in to take a closer look. “Guess I didn’t look so beat up back then.” He added quietly.

You were silent for a bit. “When was it taken?” You ask, looking up at his face for a brief moment before looking back at the photo.

He flipped it over. “Doesn’t say…” He muttered. “Ya wanna keep it’r toss it?” He looked over at you with those sultry brown eyes.

“No- I wanna keep it.” Only because he looked so good in it. He handed you the photo, and you looked at it for a moment, noting how sexy he has always been.

You looked back at him, watching sweat drip down his neck. It was really hot, the garage feeling more like a furnace than anything else. You tried not to stare, but the way that droplet of sweat trailed down his throat had you in a trance.

“Wanna take a break?” You asked, admiring the curve of his jaw for a moment.

“I could keep goin’. ‘F you need a break, then take it.” He replied, wiping the sweat off his hairline with his muscular forearm.

You huffed in response before looking through another box. It was so muggy and uncomfortable, and part of you wanted to go back inside and be cooled off by the air conditioning, but for some reason, you wanted to be with Joel more.

“Can we at least bring this to a dump or something?” You ask, pointing to a broken and dusty armchair, trying not to sound whiny.

“Sure, just tell your dad.”

You headed back inside, writing a note and giving it to your dad so you wouldn’t interrupt his call, and headed back out. Joel was lifting the chair, his biceps flexing and his shirt slightly riding up, revealing his toned lower stomach and happy trail.

You forced your gaze up and walked over to him. “Need any help?” You place a hand under the couch.

“Ain’t lettin’ you get hurt over this, jus’ lemme handle it.” he grumbled, bringing it over to the truck.

After it was loaded in the bed of his truck, he lifted his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead, a full display of his toned stomach. You tried your best to ignore the ache that began growing deep in your belly. Your breath hitched as you caught sight of his happy trail. What a tease.

Joel grunted, seemingly catching the way your gaze dropped— and lingered. You felt your face grow fuzzy and hot with the embarrassment of being caught checking him out. What's wrong with you? He’s basically family, yet you can't keep your eyes from wandering over him like he’s not.

You swallow thickly, trying to push those feelings to the back of your mind, and begin walking around and get into the passenger seat. You sat stiffly, your palms clammy against your thighs.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart, at least a little bit.

A few moments later, Joel got in the driver's seat. He glanced over and reached over to buckle your seatbelt. His calloused hands brushed your chest and side as he buckled you in, causing your breath to hitch.

Joel turned his attention back to his car, trying to get it to start. The old truck groaned and sputtered as he tried to get it to start. “C’mon girl, don’t embarrass me today…” He grumbled quietly, still trying to get it to start. “There we go…” He muttered once it rattled in an uneven idle.

He began driving off your street, a heavy silence settling over the two of you. This certainly wasn’t your first time being in his car; he’d driven you numerous places in the past, but you didn’t feel the way you did now. You were never nervous to be alone in his car with him, but right now, you were.

You shifted in your seat anxiously, your heart practically beating in your throat. Joel glanced over at you as you shifted. “If it’s too hot, we could crack a window. ‘M not tryna cook ya in here.” He said gruffly.

“No, it’s okay.” You say. “But we could turn the radio on…” You add, a bit quieter. You reach over and turn it on, a slow southern ballad humming low on the radio.

The car rolled up to a stoplight, Joel taking the opportunity to look over at you. You glanced over at him for a moment before fully turning your head, your eyes looking back into his.

“What?” You ask shyly, feeling nervous under his gaze.

“Nothin’...You’ve changed, s’all.” He said before turning his attention back to the road. “Not a kid anymore.” He muttered, driving down the road as the flight flickered back to green.

The thought of him not seeing you as a kid anymore made your stomach flip. You tried your best not to read into it, but a part of you was hoping he felt what you felt. If anything were to happen, it would destroy your friendship, his friendship with your dad…it would destroy everything.

When you arrived at the dump, you both got out of the car and walked over to the back. You looked at the dusty couch, its pale fabric ripped open in some spots.

“Can I help now?” You ask, turning to look at him.

“Now, I ain’t sayin’ you can’t handle it.” He lifts the armchair out of the bed with a grunt. “Just don’t like the idea of you gettin’ hurt over a damn chair.” He grunts out before placing it down, a huff of air escaping his lips.

“I’m not gonna get hurt over a chair.” You insisted.

“T’s a one-person job, anyway. Get back in the car.” He grumbled, walking back to the driver's seat.

Most of the drive back to your house was silent, the only noise being the low buzz of music from the radio. Now and again, the radio would fade out, leaving the low rattle of the engine and each other’s breathing to be the only things heard.

Occasionally, Joel would glance over in your direction, causing your skin to warm up and your stomach to flutter. Why does he have this effect on you? When the silence became unbearable, you decide to break it.

“When we get back to my house, can you help bring that bookshelf up to my room?” You prompted, your words coming out quicker than intended. You told yourself it was to fill the silence— not to keep him around longer.

“Yeah, sure.”

“I can help you carry it.” You turn to face him, the sun highlighting little scars on his face. You wondered how he got them, and hoped one day you’d be able to ask.

“Ya don’t gotta worry ‘bout that. Just clear the way f’me.”

“You sure? I could-” You were quickly cut off by Joel’s gravelly voice.

“Already said you don't gotta. I didn’t let you carry a chair, ’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry a bookshelf. ‘Specially up a flight’a stairs.” He said, keeping his tone stern yet gentle.

“I think I could handle it.” You quipped, wanting to put on a tough girl act for him.

“I know ya can, I’d just prefer ‘f ya didn’t.” He replied in that honeyd drawl that sent butterflies to your stomach.

You huffed out air at his response, turning to look out the window. Once again, the car fell silent. The radio faded back in after sitting in silence for a few moments.

“”S it weird being home without Sarah?” You asked, now looking over at him.

“Weird? Nah. Jus’ real quiet. Lot less Taylor Swift blarin’ through the damn house.” He grumbled with a slight huff, earning a small smile from you.

Thinking about Joel being home without Sarah reminded you of how long your dad was alone without you. While you were away, you worried he might miss you, but you knew he had friends he was likely spending time with. And Joel, of course.

“You know if my dad was lonely without me?” You ask, your voice softer now. Joel stole a glance at your face before focusing back on the road.

“He didn’t say it outright, but yeah…I think he missed havin’ you around.” Joel’s voice was softer, still the gravelly rasp it always had, but softer.

You hummed and turned back to the window. His car slowed to a stop as it entered your driveway.

You turn to look at him. “I’ll go check if he's still on the phone.” You say, referring to your dad. You get out and head into your garage, your dad rummaging through a few boxes. “Oh. You’re off your call?” You say, looking at him.

“Yeah, got off a few minutes ago.” He said, his gaze shifting to Joel as he stepped into the garage. “Thanks for taking that couch to the dump, you two.”

Joel gave your father a dismissive nod, “No problem. She wants this bookshelf in her room.” He placed a hand on the dusty shelving. “’M gonna bring it up n then come right back to help ya.” He added gruffly.

“What? You really want that piece’a junk?” Your dad squints his eyes in confusion.

“Uh…yeah.” You anxiously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before adding, “I need somewhere to put my books.”

“Well….Alright, then. Just don’t want you overworkin’ em.” Your dad joked, nodding over at Joel.

Joel let out a low, gruff chuckle that sounded awfully forced. “Yeah, ‘m still good to carry it. Don’t worry ‘bout me.” He replied, lifting the bookshelf. You walked over to the door, opening it for him.

“You sure you don’t want help?” you asked gently, feeling a bit guilty that you were making him carry your bookshelf.

“Yeah, ‘m sure, sweetheart.” He exhaled sharply. His words sent a jolt of nerves through your body. The way ‘sweetheart’ rolled off his tongue made you feel hot. Your face burned, you didn’t dare to look up– not with that word still echoing in your chest.

You walked up the stairs in front of him, hearing an occasional soft grunt fall from his lips. You felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you as you realized your ass was right in front of him. You hoped he couldn’t fully see you due to the bookshelf in his hands, but part of you wanted him to look…

You hurried down the hall and opened your room door, quickly making space for the bookshelf and nudging any stray clothes on the floor under your bed. You looked over at your bed, suddenly wishing you had made it this morning.

“Where’d ya want it?” He asked, still holding it.

“Just leave it there,” You say, trying to sound casual, but the slight shake in your voice betrays you. Joel had never been in your room before, in all the years you've known him. You briefly looked around, hoping nothing in your room comes off as childish.

Joel’s response was low, almost gruff. “Alright.” He placed the bookshelf down and pushed against the wall, now standing a bit too close to you. He was so close you could smell him, a mix of sawdust, cedarwood, musky cologne, and sweat– the kind of smell you’d expect to hate, but made your knees weak instead. “Thank you.” You reply meekly, your stomach swirling.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He grumbled dismissively. “Gonna go back down n help your dad.” He said, finally turning to look at you. “Ya comin’?”

“Uh, yeah, let’s go.” The two of you returned to the garage, your father still sorting stuff. You paused before entering, “Are you guys hungry?” You ask, your voice a bit shaky due to nerves.

“Starving, actually.” Your dad said. You looked over at Joel, waiting for a response.

“I could eat.” He said. “Been on m’feet all day.” He added in.

“Okay, I’ll make you guys something to eat, then.” You turned back into the house, heading for the kitchen. You washed your hands before assembling three sandwiches. You put them on the table before going back to the garage. “Your food’s ready.” You called.

You retreated back to the dining area, Joel and your father entering the room a couple of moments later. “Wash your hands, they’re definitely dirty after all that cleaning.”

“Bossy.” Your dad huffs before heading over to the sink. You roll your eyes in response before sitting at the table and waiting for them. Joel sat next to you and across from your dad, the proximity making your stomach flutter. The way his legs were spread, his knee almost touching yours, his muscular leg straining against his jeans. How is this man single?

“Y’didn’t have ta make us anythin’.” Joel grumbles before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“T’s not a big deal, figured you guys’d be hungry.” You said before taking a bite of your own sandwich.

“Tastes great, sweetheart. Thank you.” Your father said with a mouthful. Gross.

As you all ate your sandwiches, you couldn’t peel your eyes away from Joel’s arms and hands. His hands and arms alike were so big and veiny, from lifting heavy objects and years of manual labor.

God, what’s your problem? Oogling his arms right in front of your dad. You quickly looked away and at your dad, making sure he didn’t see the way you were looking at Joel like you’d rather be biting his arms instead of your sandwich.

Your dad and Joel talked about something– you're not sure, you weren’t listening, too focused on your own thoughts. You snapped out of it when you heard your dad speak to both you and Joel.

“You two worked hard today. Got some good work in.” He wiped his mouth after eating.

“Wasn’t bad…had some good company,” Joel replied quietly. Your heart stumbled, causing you to quickly looked down at your plate like it was the most fascinating thing on earth, trying to fight the heat rising in your face.

“Uh, you guys done?” You say, trying to change the subject, standing up and grabbing your plate. Your dad looked over at Joel before responding.

“Yeah, we’re done.” You nodded and took their plates to the sink to wash them. As you were waiting for the water to heat up, you felt someone pressing into your side. That specific scent that could only belong to Joel filled your nostrils.

You turned your head to look up at him before glancing down at his hands. He had grabbed a plate and began rinsing it off before squirting some soap onto it.

“You don't have to do that-”

“Ain’t no trouble. Least I could do.” He said lowly, still washing the dish. You picked up another plate, washing it as well.

“Did you guys finish the garage yet?” You ask, glancing up at him.

“Jus’ about…” He grumbled.

You hummed lowly in response, focusing back down on washing the dishes. His large forearm would occasionally brush yours, slick with water. Your dad walked in shortly after.

“Joel, why don’t you head home? You did a lot today, I appreciate it, man. Your dad patted Joel’s back.

“Alright, I’ll see ya.” Joel replied gruffly, drying his hands off on a towel.

“Bye…” You say, watching him walk to the front door with your father. You leaned back against the sink and let out a huff of air, gripping the counter tightly, trying to ground yourself. You wanted to believe he felt it too. But maybe he was just being kind. Maybe you were just a kid to him, still. A girl playing house with a grown man’s attention.

Joel would never— could never— look at you that way. And you? You needed to stop looking at him like he already had.

full fic on ao3 here !!

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wonbriiize · 1 year ago

Text

pairing; park wonbin x reader, genre; best friends to lovers, warnings; none

note; i finished watching ‘one day’ (netflix show) a few days ago and decided to write this inspired by it,, it’s quite long but i hope u guys like it !!

unspoken feelings

in which you want wonbins help to prepare yourself for your first date but things take a different turn…

⊹₊˚✩ ₊˚⊹

“𝓪𝓻𝓮 you sure this looks good?” you swirl around in the dark blue dress that you’ve just put on.

after waiting for a few minutes and not getting an answer, you see that your best friend wonbin isn’t paying much attention to you — he’s laying on your bed and looking at his phone.

“wonbin, help me out here and stop looking at your phone!” your voice sounds so desperate that it makes you mad. you absolutely hate sounding like that.

wonbin sits up and throws his phone next to him.

“yeah, the dress is pretty good.”

“only good? oh god, no, it needs to look perfect.”

full with panic, you start walking to your wardrobe to look for another dress.

“why do you care so much anyway?” wonbin asks, trying to hide the jealousy he has been feeling the whole time since you’ve told him that you’re going on a date with someone.

“because it’s my first date ever and i want it to be good and it’s only going to be good when i also look good!!”

wonbin watches you look through your clothes, throwing them to the ground and desperately trying to find a new dress. he bites his lips, asking himself if you’ve ever been this stressed about looking good when the two of you were out together.

“how come you never dress up when we go out?”

you laugh at his question, not understanding why he’d ask this. “well, we don’t go on dates. we go out as friends.”

friends.

that word slaps wonbin right back into reality. he gulps, tearing his eyes away from you.

“yeah but you could still try to match my coolness with your outfits.”

“oh shut up,” you laugh, grabbing after the white dress that’s been sitting at the bottom of your wardrobe.

“what do you think about this one?” turning around, you hold your dress up so wonbin can see it, but you catch him looking to the other side of the room, not acknowledging what you’ve just said.

“uhm, hello, earth to wonbin, you here?”

he snaps his head back to you but it still looks like he’s not really here, with you. his mind seems to be somewhere else.

you wave the white dress in an attempt to attract his attention. “so? how about this one?”

slowly, he nods. “yeah, this is the one.”

proudly, you smile and stand up. wonbin is still staring at you, hating the fact that he can’t even be happy for you. he absolutely detests that he’s here, helping you out for your first date and the date isn’t even with him.

maybe he's not a good best friend for thinking this way, but who can blame him? he‘s been in love with you for so many years. seeing someone else taking you out on a date, making you smile this much, and filling you with such excitement and eagerness to dress up — it hurts him deeply.

it’s my own fault, wonbin thinks. he should have gathered up the strength to confess to you way before, but now it’s too late.

he’s about to lose you to someone else.

wonbin grabs his chest, feeling like it’s hurting so much that he can barely breathe.

“wonbin, can you do me a favor and unzip me please? i can’t reach it,” you ask him.

“hurry, i need to be ready in an hour and i still need to do my hair and make up!” you whine, wanting wonbin to stop being so slow.

wonbin stands up, his heart beating very fast as he approaches you. he hopes that you don’t realize how heavily he’s breathing.

once he stands behind you, he gulps, realizing how close to you he is. his hands carefully make their way up to your hair, moving it to the side.

you can feel wonbin's breath in your neck. being this close to him gives you goosebumps, and you pray he doesn't notice.

he can't possibly know the effect he has on you. whenever he's near, your heart races, and every moment feels so alive, so fulfilling, so utterly consumed by love.

wonbin has been your best friend for so many years and you don’t want to lose that.

confessing to him would put the two of you in a tough spot because what if he doesn’t like you in that way? how could you two ever recover from that? it would change everything.

you don’t want to lose him.

you agreed to go on a date with someone else just to stop thinking about wonbin, but he's always on your mind. every moment feels like a battle against these unspoken feelings for him. you thought the date might help you move on, but it's only making you feel like you're betraying him.

but there’s no going back now; you need to do this. it’s for the best.

noticing that wonbin still hasn’t unzipped the dress, you ask if he can hurry up.

wonbin doesn't respond. it’s like his throat is closing up, choked by the knowledge of you going out with someone else. he thought he could handle it, but the reality hits him like a tidal wave, devouring him in a whirlpool of agony and longing.

“no, i don’t want to hurry,” he whispers. he doesn’t understand why he’s so brave all of sudden, but he’s not going to back away now.

“what?” you’re confused.

“i actually lied,” wonbin whispers in your ear. “you look absolutely perfect in this dress.”

it feels like you’re having a hard time hearing because of how fast your heart is starting to beat.

wonbin touches your shoulders, slowly turning you around to him.

“i just didn’t want you to wear this to your date.”

as you stand face to face with wonbin, you‘re struck by the realization that you‘ve never been this close to him before.

it’s a moment you've yearned for endlessly.

“why?” you whisper, your gaze flickering down to his lips and then back to his eyes.

“because..” wonbin murmurs, his hands leaving your shoulders to caress your waist, pulling you closer. the proximity makes your head spin.

is this surreal moment truly happening?

“i want to be the sole reason you wear this dress,” he confesses, his right hand delicately tracing your lower lip.

your knees tremble, threatened by the imminent collapse under the weight of overwhelming desire.

“and i also want to be the only one who takes you out on dates, who brings that radiant smile to your lips, and who..." he pauses momentarily, his gaze lingering on your mouth.

“..gets to kiss you, if you allow me to, of course.”

your heart is pounding with anticipation. the realization that this long-awaited moment is finally arriving feels surreal, yet undeniably thrilling.

without a word, you rise onto your tiptoes and meet his lips in a fervent embrace.

wonbin is taken aback at first, but starts kissing back enthusiastically when he realizes that you've been meaning to do this just as much as he has.

in that moment, everything around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

it feels like time is standing still as you are drawn together, your connection becoming the only thing that matters.

amidst the quiet, your love shines brighter than anything else, filling the space around you with warmth and intensity.

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katerinaaqu · 8 months ago

Text

I Take that Back

Set after Rhapsody 11 of Iliad. Odysseus is rushed to his tent to be healed after his rescue by Menelaus. He receives some wholehearted conversations with two close friends.

As he was being half-carried to his tent, Odysseus was groaning in pain holding his still bleeding side. Menelaus had rushed to cover the wound with a piece of cloth but the bleeding was pretty severe especially given his fast heartbeat after the heat of the adrenaline in battle. He had to rely on the strength of his comrade Polites to make sure he wouldn’t damage his body even further. He was already feeling lightheaded from blood loss and now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he had started to feel the burning sensation of the stab wound to his torso. Perimedes was holding his other arm over his nape as they were rushing to his tent to the Achaean camp.

“Quickly! We must get him hot water and stitch the wound!” Polites ordered

He too was painted in blood from battle and his wounded king and the dirt of the camp wouldn’t help a potential infection. Eurylochus met them half-way, looking as pale as Odysseus in worry at that moment.

“What the hell just happened?!” he asked running to the spot

“Stab wound! We need to treat him!” Polites replied

“How…? Like how the hell…?”

“That…bastard Socus…son of Hippastus…” Odysseus moaned through clenched teeth, “Don’t worry, I had the last laugh…”

“Don’t speak, you idiot!” Eurylochus scolded him taking over the spot Polites had

The latter rushed to the tent to open the way so that the other two would bring the groaning, not to mention bleeding and soaked in sweat king to his bed.

“Quickly! I will need some wine and moldy bread as soon as possible!” Polites ordered, “And, for gods’ sakes; someone bring me clean cloths and boil water!”

“O-On it!” Perimedes rushed out

Odysseus huffed and puffed as the cloth soaked in his blood was drawn away so that a new would be applied and be pressed on. Eurylochus held onto it almost for dear life.

“Dammit!” the king of Ithaca complained trying to stabilize the pain with his breathing

“Come on! Drink this!” Polites advised offering him the skin

Odysseus didn’t need to be told twice before grabbing it and gulp down a few good sips of wine before Polites opened the cloth and poured some of it over the bleeding gash. His king clenched his teeth, hitting his fist to the side of his bed.

“Shit!” he cursed, “I knew this year was not good enough!”

“Got the water!” Perimedes interrupted before Polites had the time to scold his king for inappropriate timing for humor

“Good! Help me cleanse the needle”

Odysseus drew a few more sips from the skin watching his friends frantically work; Perimedes cleansing the stitch with water, Polites passing the needle through the flame and murmuring a prayer to Asclepius while Eurylochus was trying to hold the gaze to his wound. He groaned as Polites began stitching his wound.

“Dammit!”

“Sorry…” Polites whispered, “You have to endure”

“Don’t worry Polites…” Odysseus smirked in his sweat and pain, “I took the spear, I can take the stitch! Argh! Hey! You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t ya?!”

Polites had to master all his willpower not to chuckle and lose his concentration. At least he had his sense of humor. That was a good sign. He thanked all gods he knew that the spear indeed had not harmed any internal organs so all he needed was to patch him up and pray that the wound wouldn’t be infected. He was already applying the moldy bread over the stitch so that he could tie it up when Menelaus rushed into the tent.

“How is he!?” he asked anxiously

He was in terrible shape as he seemed; sweaty and dirty from battle but thank goodness unharmed himself for most part. Polites bowed his head.

“We’re just finishing, my lord…thank goodness nothing seems to be harmed inside”

The king of Ithaca drew another gulp of wine and calmed his breath a bit.

“Don’t worry, Menelaus” he said, “It’s just a scratch. It will heal in time, I am sure. Athena protected me! Socus didn’t stab me deep enough”

“Thank gods!” Menelaus sighed

“How’s Diomedes?” the elder king asked again, assisting Polites at raising himself so that he would bind his wound

“Good. He is being taken care of as we speak.”

“Good” Odysseus voiced sighing a bit, “Otherwise all this effort would have been for nothing! Ouch!”

Menelaus couldn’t help but smirk at that last remark. He did know how much the two of them cooperated. Quite frankly he almost saw Odysseus treating the young king like the son he never had the chance to raise. For one moment his own mind ran back to his daughter; she was a young girl at the age of 9 when they left her. Maybe 10. Right now she would be a woman ready for marriage while he was there, rotting away at war for the sakes of the wife that abandoned them. He snapped out of his melancholy pretty quickly.

“What the hell happened out there?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing!” Odysseus groaned, “What in all gods’ names happened? The Trojans are cutting through like we are cheese and all our efforts seem to be in vain! What the hell happened and none of our prayers gets through?! Why is Zeus so angry at us? First Apollo sent that blasted plague and now this! What the hell happened, Menelaus?”

“How am I supposed to know?!” also Menelaus retaliated, “I am in the dark just like you are!”

“Did your brother say something agai-…ARGH!” his accusation was cut in half as his raising voice put strain to his wound.

He lay back as Menelaus ran at his side as if by instinct.

“No worries…” Odysseus sighed, “I am accustomed to pain… That was on me!”

He sucked some more wine and seemed to calm down a bit. He leaned back to his pillow but eyed Menelaus with those onyx-black eyes of his that made Menelaus feel like he could really scan his very soul!

“Are you sure we didn’t offend anybody else so far? Last time even Diomedes went rampage.”

“Positive. Not to my knowledge at least. I can ask for a council to be gathered.”

“No. Not yet” Odysseus advised, “We suffered a great loss today. We don’t want people to be discouraged even further by thinking we are somehow heading straight for the rocks!”

“You’re right. But what else can we do?”

Odysseus’s intense stare locked with his own eyes again.

“You know what it must be done, Menelaus! We need Achilles! This cannot go on for much longer! Not only he is the strongest warrior among us but he is also the son of a god; he is rumored to be invulnerable in battle! The longer he stays away the worse for us!”

“Achilles is…” Menelaus hesitated, “We tried already. He will not release his anger against my brother”

“Then bloody do something about it!” Odysseus urged, “Today we lost quite a few men! I will not be able to enter the battle for a while and Diomedes will probably earn himself a limp from that foot! Our greatest warriors have suffered a loss, soon the Trojans will be at our bloody doors and Achilles is still chilling by his ships because your brother will not do something about the situation!”

“He already did, Odysseus!”

“Well, tell him to try bloody harder!”

He drew a breath and realized he had spoken out of the line.

“Sorry” he mumbled, “I take that back. I understand Agamemnon made an effort or that Achilles is not the easiest person to deal with. I shouldn’t have said that”

“Don’t apologize” Menelaus sighed as well, “You do have a point. And you just got a spear today isolated from our army and fighting multiple opponents at the same time. You have the right to be furious”

“I am not furious…” Odysseus mumbled absentmindedly, “I am scared”

Menelaus looked at him questionably. That was a rare occasion for Odysseus to speak of fear so openly. He always was the one to say things others didn’t say but not so blatantly honestly especially when he talked about himself.

“I found myself at hades’s doors today… My only thought out there for one moment was that I needed to survive this…that these Trojans wouldn’t make a widow of my wife or an orphan of my son! And the experience made me realize I am afraid…afraid that our efforts; all the years we spent out here in this hell would be for nothing. That they can be severed at any moment and I cannot help but think that all this was caused by one man! That man who has the power to communicate directly with the gods and his anger can be lethal because the anger will be transferred to the gods themselves!”

He wiped some sweat off his wide brow before collecting his thoughts again.

“I saw Diomedes blaze from Athena’s grace, I saw Sarpedon from the other side of the battle…I saw so many heroes out there connected to the gods; even myself, if I am allowed to say so! I have talked to Athena face to face, was privileged enough to call Hermes my bloodline and yet…yet none of these warriors have caused as much damage as Achilles with his rage!”

He banged his fist to the side before covering his mouth with it in thought.

“It is as if our whole existence depends on the mood changes of that man! And the thought terrifies me!”

He eyed Menelaus once more and he realized that Menelaus understood his train of thought. The idea was encouraging that his confession didn’t make the other man uncomfortable or scorning.

“I don’t plan on dying here, Menelaus!” he declared, “Neither do I want to see our efforts go up to smoke because of an internal dispute! I don’t know what you and your brother shall do, but whatever it is, I suggest you to do it faster!”

Menelaus nodded. He couldn’t say much here. Odysseus was right. He himself felt like life would be escaping him at any moment when he saw Odysseus from afar nearly taken over by all those Trojan warriors. For one second he feared that they would be doomed the moment Odysseus’s corpse hit the holy ground of Troy! He felt as terrified as if he were he himself fighting with a spear wound bleeding out of him. They had lost Achilles in one way, since he refused to fight, the thought of losing Odysseus too, and for good that is, was the gloomiest possible outcome he could think of! Occasionally he felt like Odysseus was the only one who kept them together with his sleek tongue and his clever ways (by gods he had nearly persuaded the Trojans to give Helen back without a war!) not to mention that his strategic mind was something they needed. He knew he wasn’t liked by many but he was respected by almost everyone and Menelaus was realizing every day why. The thought of losing him (daresay his closest friend among this bunch of kings) terrified him. He couldn’t even imagine what was going on through Odysseus’s head at the moment he was either bleeding out or ready to be speared to death. He knew how prudent Odysseus was in battle; he preferred to play safe than heroically. He usually entered the battle at the right for him moment; he was a man meant to survive! He couldn’t even imagine how this man, the embodiment of survival to the extreme, might have felt upon the face of death. And how much it affected him to blatantly say that! Odysseus was a proud man. He never admitted weakness like that! Never!

“Hey…” Menelaus smiled playfully to lighten the atmosphere, “I never expected to hear you speak like that! You usually wouldn’t admit weakness before anyone! You nearly bit my brother’s head off when he scolded you for cowardice!”

Odysseus scoffed and shook the sack of wine suggestively.

“Give me some more of this stuff and I might even start flirting with you!”

Menelaus laughed. He couldn’t find a better comeback than that!

“Let’s pretend this dialog never happened, shall we?” Odysseus added, “One embarrassing experience per day is enough for me!”

That earned him another chuckle from the Spartan king.

“Rest well, my friend” he patted the elder king’s shoulder, “You earned it. Heal for now and I shall talk to my brother. I promise…”

Odysseus nodded in a thanking way. Yeah, to be fair there was nothing else that could be done. Both Achilles and Agamemnon were two really hard-headed fellows but he had to admit that Agamemnon had already made his approach. It was Achilles’s utter refusal to accept it that got things stuck again but Agamemnon didn’t try again either. He felt that they might need a miracle to make these two patch things up again! He silently prayed to Athena that this miracle would come soon otherwise their war was doomed to fail. The prophecy stated they needed their strongest warrior if they wished to have some possibility of success and right now Achilles and all his precious Myrmidons were as good as not there. He didn’t like this thought.

“Hey…” Odysseus said stopping Menelaus at his tracks and making him look over his shoulder, “By the way, thanks… You saved my sorry skin out there! Without you I would be gone. Thank you…”

Menelaus nodded softly.

“No need to thank me. You would have done the same”

“Would I?”

Both kings chuckled in union.

“Jokes aside, Odysseus” Menelaus added, “I got scared too out there, today”

Odysseus raised a brow.

“I saw you overwhelmed and I thought you were a goner. My only thought was that if we lost you too the war would be done for… But now I know that it wasn’t just that. I don’t know if I would ever forgive myself if we lost you…because of me… I believe I never felt so scared to lose a friend like I was today…”

Odysseus was at loss of words for the very first time in his long eloquent life; it wasn’t just a soft block in his brain that needed him to regroup; it was a full on delete on any word or response he could possibly give back. His mouth was left agape and his eyes as wide as they could be. That confession also came out of nowhere. The day was becoming curious and curiouser as one would say. He sighed.

“Just get the hell out of here before we both get emotional!” he said defeated, “And send that oaf of a man Ajax my thanks as well! Just don’t make it sound like I am getting soft!”

“I will!” Menelaus chuckled, “Rest assured”

Odysseus collapsed back to his bed when the reddish-blonde king left his tent. Well that was definitely something he never expected. Not only had he nearly died out there but now he seemed to have received the most unexpected deep conversation he had in years with his fellow kings. He and Menelaus always got along better than many out there and both of them knew what it meant to take responsibility for this. They had been through a lot together but never before had Menelaus spoken to him so directly to the heart as now. It was both unexpected and welcome as it couldn’t be more…

“Damn…” he mumbled in thought

The frantic sound of limping came to his ears, stirring him from the half-lethargy he was about to fall into, as someone was obviously trying to run through the camp, crushing the little stones of the lane beneath their sandals but obviously the fellow was relying on one foot to do so. Apparently he was right for a few seconds later a sweaty and very much frantic Diomedes rushed into his tent. He had his foot tied up in bandages and he was assisting his running with a wooden stick. He was pale and flushed from running but Odysseus realized it wasn’t because of blood loss but rather of worry.

“Odysseus!” he called out

“Diomedes?”

The king of Ithaca half-raised his body from his bed where he was covered with a fleece to protect him from the cold of the night. He was still dizzy from blood loss but after a good meal and some rest he was already better. Polites was by his side to change the bandage and check on the process of the wound (so far he had very little fever so the wound probably had escaped the worst infection). However the look at Diomedes’s face made him worried.

“What on earth are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be by your ships resting?”

“Never mind about me!” Diomedes called out arriving by his side

Odysseus nodded to one of his slaves to bring Diomedes a stool for the anxious young man was capable of standing there forever!

“They just told me you got hurt after I left!”

“Yeah…that should teach me not to play the hero ever again!” Odysseus joked

“Odysseus!” Diomedes yelled, “That’s not funny! How bad is it?”

“I’m fine, Diomedes” Odysseus sighed, “It is not as serious as it looks. Athena protected me from the worst and Menelaus assured my retreat”

“So I heard! But you got a spear in your bloody stomach!”

“I’m tougher than I look, Diomedes. These Trojan bastards will not rid of me that easily!”

“Dammit, Odysseus!” Diomedes exclaimed

Odysseus blinked. He never had seen Diomedes; the silent but hot-headed Diomedes be so scared or worried before. This kid seemed to be grown beyond his years now he seemed scared as if he had just lost a parent again. Odysseus knew he was touched beyond words. For one moment he wondered indeed how it would feel if he and his son were together.

“You gave up your chariot… You could have run with me and leave your man behind and instead you just gave me your chariot and covered my retreat! You reckless bastard you…you…”

He sighed in defeat.

“What’s gotten into you? You usually were so prudent and careful and now…for my sake you…you…”

“It was a moment of madness, Diomedes, it won’t happen again I am sure!” Odysseus smirked dismissively

“You absolute asshole!” Diomedes exclaimed again, “You could have died out there!”

“Thanks for the incredible faith you have in my fighting abilities you oh-I-am-Athena’s-favorite-Diomedes! It is noted!”

“Why are you so…ugh! You are unbelievable!”

The two kings remained silent for a little. Odysseus didn’t like that silence; he was more used at being the talkative one while Diomedes stood and listened (he never was the talkative type) but now he found himself, once more, at a loss of words. He knew that Diomedes cared but to THAT extent? Well that was refreshing.

“Well…what do you know…” he thought, “Two people really worried about me at the same day… This war really is full of surprises! Most of people keep the respect mask with me if they want to be seen as nice…”

He was about to say something but then Diomedes surprised him once more as his spoke in his low, deep voice.

“And you were right, you know…sometimes it is good to flee…”

“It is better to live and fight another day than to stay there in the open and die like a hero you know… Sometimes retreat is the wisest solution.”

“Noted…” Diomedes replied apprehensively, “When you brought the salvation for me, I nearly didn’t think about it…I just…left”

“As you should” Odysseus said seriously, “You are young and vigorous, Diomedes. Do not throw away your life just like that…besides…” he smirked a bit, “We need you. We need your crazy ass head for this war. We can’t afford to lose you!”

“Oh shut up, will you?” Diomedes sighed dead serious, “You act as if you are dispensable!”

Odysseus smiled a bit. That was Diomedes he knew. His care language was always harsh like that. A child born and raised in war… That was his way to say that he cared.

“Hell, no!” Odysseus replied lightheartedly, “I value my life more than anything in this field! I do not plan on jumping in front of another spear for you if you promise me to be more careful next time! You sometimes are way too self-destructive for my tastes! It is hard enough that I hang out with you at my age!”

Diomedes scoffed.

“Noted…”

“By the way” Odysseus fixed himself on the bed, “How is your foot?”

“Better already. It will heal”

“Not if you keep doing stupid things like this, lad, like coming running at me the moment you hear I got a minor cut!”

“Hey!” Diomedes almost seemed offended, “Well excuse me for wanting to check on you, old man! That surely will not happen again if you so want to!”

Odysseus chuckled a bit and held his side in pain.

“Look at us, lad!” he said, “We are a mess! You became an arrow target and I a spear holder! We sure have future in this war!”

He smiled tiredly watching Diomedes chuckle a bit. When he allowed himself to smile and relax, he almost looked like his age; not like aged a hundred years early. He was happy to get that side out of him once in a while even in the fire of war. They were interrupted by Polites bringing in a cup of warm tea.

“I am sorry to interrupt, my lords…” he excused himself, “Come on, drink this…”

Odysseus took the cup having the most suspicious look at his face as he took a sip he took a disgusted expression as he forced himself to swallow.

“Gods!” he complained draining his cup, “You know I hate sage!”

“Well don’t be such a baby! You need to get your fever down!”

“On second thought, I’d rather die young!”

“Come on now, Odysseus! Aren’t you too old to be a picky eater?” Diomedes chuckled

“Care for a cuppa, Diomedes?” Odysseus challenged, laughing

Polites surely brought another cup for him as well anyways. Diomedes sipped from it absentmindedly. He didn’t mind the scent of sage and the taste was not particularly bad for him, as it seemed. The warmth was welcoming to say the very least, for it was already a cold night.

“My father used to burn this devil…” Odysseus smiled softly

“Yeah…” Diomedes whispered looking at his cup, “They say it repells evil spirits away”

“Yeah…” Odysseus sighed fixing himself under his covers, “I know. That explains why I had the insatiable need to run out of the house every time he did!”

The present men at the tent chuckled softly in union. It was nice to be alive after such a long day. The smell of burning flesh from the outside did not seem to bother them anymore. Quite frankly they had trouble now separating the meal preparations from the funeral pyres.

“Speaking of which…” Diomedes hesitated, “That time…when I called you a coward…”

Odysseus looked at him.

“I take that back….” Diomedes whispered, “I should never have said that to you…”

Odysseus smiled dismissively.

“I have already forgotten about that, Diomedes… Don’t worry. I’ve been called worse…”

“Not by me”

Looking at Diomedes’s eyes made him warm inside. He seemed genuinely serious about it. He would be a liar to himself if he said that he wasn’t relieved that Diomedes decided to apologize. His accusation had hurt him plenty that time, he had to admit. But he wouldn’t tell Diomedes the truth about that. He knew Diomedes was under a great emotional pressure and tension at that time, and he HAD abandoned him as well because he saw his actions were against the will of the gods…

“Forgive me…”

“All good, lad…” Odysseus smiled, “Sometimes is better to be called a coward on the face than being praised as brave in the underworld…”

“Right…” Diomedes chuckled, “But I still…thank you. You saved my life…”

“Don’t thank me, Diomedes…you would have done the same for me. Let’s say that I owed you one…”

Diomedes smiled. Touché, he thought. He reached his belt and extended a small pouch at him.

“Here…brought you some medicine from my own tent. It will help the pain”

“Keep it, son. Your youth needs it more…”

“Please…” Diomedes insisted

Once more he was too touched to refuse. He accepted the pouch and handed it over to a slave that put it away to fix it.

“It is a mix of willow and clove” Diomedes explained, “Your physician will know how to brew it…”

“Thanks, Diomedes…” Odysseus whispered tiredly

His eyelids were getting heavier again. It wasn’t just the fatigue and the blood loss but also this whole emotional turmoil was probably getting a toll out of him. The warmth of the fire in combination with his light fever made things even worse. He wanted to say something to Diomedes, offer him some sort of meal of hospitality but his mouth wouldn’t move.

“Honestly…thank you…” Diomedes whispered, “I would’ve been a goner if you-… Odysseus?”

He looked at the bed to notice the elder king was fast asleep.

“What did you give him?” Diomedes asked Polites worriedly

“No worries, my lord” Polites assured him, “Just some chamomile mixed with the sage and some herbs. It will relax his muscles a bit so he can rest; otherwise he is capable of staying up forever!”

“Will he be alright?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, my lord! I swear to gods this man is immortal! He seems impossible to die sometimes! See this?”

He half-raised the cover to reveal Odysseus’s strong leg. Diomedes perceived the huge scar on his leg; the biggest and most distinct out of all his other micro-scars and wounds.

“Do you know what this is?”

“A hunting accident” Diomedes confirmed, “He told me something about it some years ago”

“Wild boar” Polites confirmed fixing the covers, “We were hunting at Parnassus. He must have been around 14 maybe 16 at that time? I don’t remember. He stabbed the beast in the shoulder while it was literally plowing his skin!”

“I…” Diomedes thought about it, “He did mention it but I thought he was exaggerating! Like telling a story for the lads to be cheered up”

“Oh, no, I assure you my lord, that part was accurate. I was there where it happened. I partially carried him down the mountain myself. No offense to the high kings but he can be such an idiot sometimes! He makes it sound like no big deal!”

Diomedes smiled absentmindedly. He really liked hanging out with the Cephallinians. Unlike people of Argos who often treated him with scared respect (something like the rest of the kings treated Odysseus, ironically), the Cephallinians seemed to be perceiving Odysseus like a friend; like a father figure.

“So I wouldn’t worry about him too much” Polites smiled softly caressing his reddish beard, “He will be fine”

“I hope so…” Diomedes whispered, “He will be missed otherwise”

“Don’t despair, my lord!” Polites chuckled, “Like I said this bastard of a king and good friend of mine is impossible to die! I have a feeling he will bury us all in the end and outlive us some more!”

Diomedes chuckled and stood back to his feet using his walking stick as assistance.

“I’ll leave you to it, then…” he whispered, “Thanks for the tea”

“Thank you for dropping by, my lord…”

Diomedes moved his hand dismissively before limping away from the tent. Yes, he would need some rest too. He just hoped his foot would allow him to fight for another day and perhaps repay his debt to a good friend…

***

Finally it is over! Hahaha! This random one-shot was inspired by a conversation I had with @still-mourning-polites in regards to Diomedes and Odysseus exchanging words in battle (ironically the conversation started over the age of the hero! Hahaha!)

This is also dedicated to good Diomedes fans like @ellilyre and artists such as @smokey07 and Menelaus supporters and fans such as @dorothea-greek

Odysseus's fear is mentioned in the Iliad how he talks to himself how it would be terrible to die here but he cannot run because of cowardice so he stays. In the Iliad Diomedes also runs away because he got worried of his life but he never knew in what position Odysseus would be driven into, thus my idea here.

I imagined it would be interesting if Odysseus was revealing some of his genune fears to people he trusts like Menelaus (artists including @wolfythewitch also desire more content between Odysseus and Menelaus and I agree!)

Herbs like sage are still used today in Greece for healing fever and infections (the fact that Odysseus doesn't like the taste comes from me! Dunno cannot stand sage! XD maybe I am evil spirit!) Moldy bread has been used to fight back infections for millennias. Some of the earliest examples come from ancient Egypt (basically penicillin before penicilin) hahaha! Also willow tree contains the main component of Aspirin! Hahaha!

Yeah I know that the wine joke with the year has been used hundreds of times including Hunchback of Notre Dame by Disney but I don't care! Hahaha!

Diomedes having a future limp was a headcanon of mine

Maybe also a light wink to my other short thing Philoctetes Inspirations 2 (With the Boar story and all Hahaha)

For their voices I was heavily inspired by @greeknerdsstuff who made a video with the voices of Diomedes and Odysseus! XD

Please do also consider my work with @artsofmetamoor! Recently she posted some amazing pieces of art for our Mythology AU as well!

Goddess Dilla and Hero Caleb

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redtsundere-writes · 9 months ago

Text

Part 9: Defense

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 2931 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“A knight of gigantic height, a pagan hero with great strength and benevolent heart, very skilled at handling weapons, his name was... Fie..." You brought the book up close to your face to read the unknown word.

A couple of days had passed since you became King Sukuna's future fiancée and started your private lessons with Master Kenjaku. Your cleaning days were over and you were slowly getting used to the new routine that the king had imposed on you. Everyday, you got up early to dress up with the finest clothes he had gotten you, had the delicacies Uraume prepared for breakfast, studied the rest of the day in the library until your hands got tired of writing, ate lunch, took your piano lessons and reported to the king what you had learned at the end of the day. Sukuna wanted to know if bringing a traitor from distant lands to be your tutor had been worth it.

Spending all day stuck in the library wasn't the best thing in the world, but it was more comfortable than running around the castle, doing chores. Even though you still couldn't read that well, you could enjoy books in other ways. You liked being surrounded by unfamiliar covers, smelling the yellowish paper and the sound of the inked pen gently grasping the paper. You had never been to school, but it felt like going to a high prestige one. Even though the king had asked you not to waste your teacher's time, you liked to take it at your own pace because what is well learned, is never forgotten.

Kenjaku was a very polite and formal teacher. Always speaking with elegance and with gestures typical of his character. He never tired of talking at his own calm, almost seductive pace. Sometimes he used complicated words, but never got annoyed when you interrupted him to explain a definition of a word. He was enthusiastic about mentally challenging you so that your mind would be nourished with valuable information. Your journey of exploring the world was just beginning and he would take you by the hand so you wouldn't get lost in the confusions of life.

“Fierabras,” Kenjaku completed the word you were trying to read.

“Yeah. That. Fierabras,” you smiled as you read the whole word.

“Although it is a proper noun. It is also used to describe a big, strong and boastful person,” the teacher explained.

“So would it be okay to say, ‘King Sukuna is a fierabras curse’?” You asked innocently. Kenjaku laughed at your quick thinking. After his reaction, you realized what you had said and covered your mouth, surprised of yourself.

“Yes, well implemented,” he said, trying to not burst out laughing.

You were intuitive and curious. Even though you were constantly wrong, you didn't let that break your optimistic spirit. Kenjaku has had no problem having you as a student so far. In fact, you were the easiest student he had ever had to deal with. He was about to tell you to keep reading, but the library door burst open. You both opened your eyes in surprise to see who it was. It was only three o'clock in the afternoon, a strange time for the king to show up at this side of the castle. You and Kenjaku immediately bowed to his presence.

“I want you on the parade ground in 10 minutes,” Sukuna ordered before closing the door so they could finish the class as soon as possible.

“Do you think he heard me?” You whispered to Kenjaku worried.

“Are you religious?” You shook your head. “Then choose a god and pray to him that he didn’t,” Kenjaku advised you. That didn't sound good.

The red sky radiated in its entirety as soon as you stepped out of the castle. The grass tickled your feet half exposed by heels. You lifted your yellow dress to keep the edges from being dyed green. King Sukuna and Uraume were waiting impatiently for you in the middle of the parade ground, next to a large wooden table that held several artifacts you were unfortunately familiar with.

“Good afternoon, my king,” you bowed shyly to the strange encounter.

“You know I have many enemies who want to kill me, right?” he asked, completely ignoring your greeting. You were already used to his characteristic cold demeanor. “I'll teach you how to defend yourself from today on,” he explained before guiding his gaze to the table next to him. “Pick a weapon.”

On the wooden table there were several weapons. Your gaze traveled among the imposing objects from left to right. There was a sword, a set of blades, a double-edged ax, a pair of pistols and a bow with their respective arrows. You had never been so close to the weapons before and the fact that they were an arm's length away made you a little uncomfortable. With all of them you could get hurt if you weren't careful enough. You decided to take the least threatening weapon.

Your fingers molded into the hilt of the wooden bow. For a wooden artifact, it was heavier than it looked. You took it in both hands and examined it carefully to familiarize yourself with its large size. It was halfway down your body. The end of both tips were curved back. The jagged yellowish lines in the wood denoted that it had been polished recently.

“Good choice. A long and medium range weapon. Versatile, once you know how to use it.” Sukuna smiled with satisfaction. “Uraume, bring me my bow,” he ordered the white-haired servant without taking his eyes off you. They bowed and ran to the weapon chamber.

Sukuna helped you put the quiver on your back, the arm guard and the leather glove to start practicing. He placed the quiver carefully against your back, the arm guard on your recessive arm and the glove on your dominant hand. His hands helped you with all the patience in the world so as not to hurt you with his claws. The white feathers of the arrows stuck out behind your head and you held the bow awkwardly. You never thought you would have to learn to fight, but now you had to do it no matter what and do it well. Uraume soon appeared with the gigantic king's bow. It was three times as big so that it could be used by both pairs of arms at the same time and its arrows were longer so that he could shoot them comfortably.

“The most important thing in archery is the stance. You must keep your back straight and your elbow at the level of your chin to create an imaginary straight line,” Sukuna explained as soon as Uraume handed him what he had asked for.

You watched carefully as he placed the arrow on the upper arrow rest. He snapped the feathered end against the string and stretched it to create tension. At the end of the parade ground, servants were busy setting up straw targets for practice. The king was focused on his target, the bright yellow center. He brought his face close to the string to get a better view of where the arrow should be aimed. All was silent. His T-stance was perfect and his breathing was calm. He unexpectedly turned on his waist to change the desired trajectory of your arrow and released the string.

Your surprised gaze traveled along with the arrow, which stuck directly into the head of one of the servants. You closed your eyes and turned to look away. The servant left alive screamed at the top of her lungs and ran away in panic from the potential danger. You clenched your bow in frustration as you watched him calmly take someone's life. It was unfair. Her sin had been to be an easy prey to kill.

“Excellent shot,” Uraume applauded. Sukuna relaxed his body and looked at you.

“Your turn," he ordered. The time had finally come for you to kill someone? “You can try with the target,” Sukuna advised you as if he could read your anxious mind.

“Oh okay…” You mumbled in relief before exchanging places with him.

You held the bow with your dominant hand and placed the arrow in its respective place as he had taught you. Now came the most complicated part, aiming and shooting. You pulled the string and focused on the yellow dot in front of you. Being heavier than you thought, your arm got tired quickly and started to twitch. You tried to maintain the perfect T-posture, but it seemed impossible. You let go of the string, causing your arm to recoil backwards from the shock. The arrow swung through the air and missed the bull's-eye completely. You sighed in defeat as you saw the arrow stuck in the grass.

“You need to raise your elbow higher,” Sukuna approached you to show you how to shoot.

He grabbed you by the waist with his lower hands. Your breath hitched at having him so close to you. With his upper hands, he forced your back upright. He straightened your elbow at your chin, made sure the rope didn't hit your nose and held your hand over the grip. Your heart jumped like crazy in your chest. You could hardly pay attention to the situation you couldn't control.

“Take a deep breath,” he commanded in your ear as he held the bow for you.

You felt the warmth of his body slowly envelop yours, keeping you from the cold outside. You took a mouthful of air in the hope that it would cool your body somehow. It didn't work, but it did help you focus better. You hadn't felt this nervous around the king in a long time. By this point, you thought you were used to it, but you hadn't been. Unlike other run-ins on past occasions, this time you weren't nervous about not knowing if he would kill you or not. You didn't even want to walk away from him even though all the alerts in your mind were asking you to.

“The trick is to let go of the rope. You must not only let go, you must let go and then realize that you let go. It must be a gentle and subtle movement,” Sukuna advised you.

You nodded, returning to the present moment. Sukuna counted backwards from three so that you both let go of the rope at the same time. You tried to relax your hand to follow his advice. Let the string do what it had to do on its own. Let it go until you lost the tension between your three fingers. As you reached one, you both lost the contact between your fingers and let go of the string on the bow. The arrow flew until it hit the bright center.

“Now it's your turn," Sukuna ordered, stepping away from your body to watch you do it on your own.

“Okay," you muttered shyly, disappointed that he had stepped away so soon.

"Come on, you can do it!" You self-motivated yourself before bringing the bow back up to draw with the ready to be shot arrow. You pressed your hand against the grip in an attempt to steady the imaginary line the arrow was to travel. You took a deep breath and focused on the middle of the target. You relaxed the fingers that pulled the string, one by one, until the arrow was no longer between your fingers. The arrow traveled until it stuck above the center of the target. It wasn't a perfect shot, but it was a good start.

“Good job, miss,” Uraume congratulated you as they clapped softly. You smiled at them in appreciation.

“If you keep it up, you'll master it in no time,” Sukuna encouraged you. “For now, this will be your bow. You will have to learn how to use it, take care of it and keep it with you all the time. Then, I will get you a special one.”

“A special one? What's wrong with this one?” You asked in confusion.

“The bow in your hands is a common hunting bow. In case of an invasion, you will need a cursed bow that allows you to use special arrows to kill curses and use it against sorcerers.” Sukuna explained.

“And what should I do if I ran out of cursed arrows?” You asked curiously.

“Good question,” Sukuna said before taking his bow. “The bow can also function as a defense weapon.”

The king twirled the bow like a spear in his hands. You looked at him in shock as you watched him dance on his own axis while pretending to shoot down shadow enemies. He pushed and pierced the bodies of his unseen opponents. Come to think of it, you had never seen him fight. He always used his cursed techniques to get rid of someone. It was impressive to see someone as big as him move with such agility. He threw the bow into the air spinning it to catch your attention. When it fell, Sukuna caught it in his hands and pointed it at your throat. The tip came within inches of your chin, causing you to back away. Sukuna laughed at the sight of your frightened face.

“Did I scare you? You should be used to it by now,” Sukuna scoffed before digging the bow against the ground so it would stand straight. “I'll teach you hand-to-hand fighting later. For now, let's stick with the bow so you can get used to it. The secret is in the repetition,” you nodded obediently before placing an arrow between the stabilizer and the string again. Sukuna folded his arms to watch you very carefully as he always did.

The morning breeze clung to the window of the king's room. Droplets from condensation were slowly falling down the window in a race to fade away at the end. The mornings were cold and calm until King Sukuna rose. His huge head was sunk between the pillows, while the rest of his splendid body was covered by the plush blankets. His soft snoring was the only thing that could be heard in the room. Like the purr of a cat in its seventh sleep of the day. The sun was slowly peeking over the mountains of the valley and Uraume approached his room at a determined pace to let him know.

“Breakfast is almost ready, your majesty,” Uraume woke him from the other side as they knocked on the door from the other side.

“I'm coming," Sukuna grunted. With that, Uraume hurried back to the kitchen.

She sat on the edge of the bed to wake herself up. He twisted his torso and neck to thunder them completely. He scrubbed the lashes from his eyes as he went over to the closet to find what he would wear that day. He grabbed one of his many robes and reached for the sleeve to tuck in his arm. Sukuna looked out the window to watch the sun rise, but was surprised to find a more pleasant sight.

That morning, you had woken up earlier than usual. You tied a ribbon in your hair and went out, still in your pajamas, to the parade ground to practice your bow skills. You pulled a couple of straw targets with what little strength you had, since you knew that all the servants were still asleep and no curse would want to help you. You set up the equipment on your own to start practicing. You applied all the advice that King Sukuna had given you. You controlled your breathing, held the T-position and repeated over and over again. The morning breeze tickled your skin, but that didn't stop you from practicing.

Your hair fluttering softly against the morning air, your back erect and your hands gently gripping the bow was something Sukuna didn't think he would see so early in the morning. He paused his morning routine to watch you through one of the clear parts of the window. He felt like a stalker, even though he knew he had every right to see you, even though he found the idea that you didn't know he was watching you fascinating. He could see you in your natural state. No pressure, no fear, no fakeness. It was just you in the midst of a dastardly world.

You let the string go and the arrow flew to rest on the white bull's-eye shore. You looked up at the sky and sighed in disappointment at your performance as you missed the target again. Sukuna smiled to see you so frustrated. He thought it was cute the way you kept trying again and again until you finally succeeded. It didn't matter if it took you days, weeks or months, you would be the best archer the king had ever seen to fulfill his whims.

When you ran out of arrows in your quiver, so you approached the target to get them back. You hung the bow on the target while you were barely pulling out all the stuck arrows. You were only pulling arrows out of a pile of straw, but Sukuna kept watching you mesmerized as if you were the most interesting thing in the world. He soon realized that his heart was beating a mile a minute again. He touched his chest to feel the rapid palpitations and his smile faded as he realized what was happening. He didn't have heart trouble, his heart was in trouble.

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licityvibes · 1 year ago

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Guilty Pleasure

✟ Author: orshii

✟ Pairing: Choi San x female reader

✟ Word count: 4,6 k

✟ Warnings: cursing, suggestive

✟ Summary: You go back to your hometown for the summer vacation, not expecting the small town's priest to be a total eye candy. But he seems to be hiding dark secrets underneath his holy façade.

Will you find out the truth?

✟ A/N: *coughs in embarrassment* Uh so...I think I really went insane if I wrote this, there's no way back anymore haha. I really do feel guilty, but then I'm not, cause you'll see. *wink* To be honest I don't know what is this, I just got inspired in the church bruh-- I can't with myself, I'mma just go dig myself haha let's go. Anyways, enjoy I guess. Actually part 2 is out

My day started off boring, as usual. It was a holiday, so I went back home to the town I grew up in to visit my parents and relatives. I really needed a little break from work and from the adult life, which came out of the blue. I didn't really have time to ponder in my life choices as I finished University. I moved away to a big city to start working as an English teacher. It was very new for me, and very tiring, so, I deserved a little break as the summer vacation finally came and I could come home to rest a little before returning to my chaotic, big city life.

We were sitting in church with my parents and my brother, Wooyoung, as it was Sunday. My parents were mostly religious, and so, I had no other choice but to tag along with them. I can’t say I'm not religious myself, it’s just that I tend to give in a lot of times to the vicious temptations, to the guilty pleasure that consumes me like venom. My brain gets consumed by vices, and it takes a lot of time to find the cure to treat myself with. I learned to believe in myself, instead of God, after I had too many disappointments in life. I prayed for help, but it never came my way. So, I have decided that I'm better off on my own, believing in my own strength and whatever hardships life throws at me I will be able to overcome on my own, instead of believing in a God and waiting for guidance and to be saved.

People started filling inside the church as silence settled upon the hall, the priest coming out to stand in front of the altar. It was the moment I suddenly forgot how to breathe. My mouth fell open as slowly I leaned towards Wooyoung.

"Okay, since when did our old and dusty priest become a young and handsome one?" I whispered to my brother, surprised. The last thing I could remember, as I came here ages ago, was our priest looking like a cute grandpa. This priest on the other hand, was the complete opposite of the lovely old man.

He was tall with his body hidden underneath his black long vestment, but even that couldn't hide his broad shoulders, which could be compared to mountains. Wait a minute…since when were priests buff?

Am I in another universe, suddenly? What am I seeing? Why is he so handsome with his black framed glass?

His black hair was whipped back carefully, little strands falling to his forehead. And his face?! Oh my God, literally, I have never seen more beautiful features likes his before. His jawline was as sharp as a knife, his cat-like eyes watching the people whom came here to hear his wise words, that came from his pretty, almost cherry red, lips. I was very enraptured by this man and I felt very guilty for checking him out for thousands of reasons; one, I was sitting in church and these thoughts were very inappropriate; second…he was a freaking priest, which implied that he was the most innocent human being on earth, he can't even look at girls, let alone do even as much as touch them. My eyes fell on his hands, which were holding the Bible, his palm spreading out underneath it with the veins on his hands showing. I couldn’t control my thoughts as I imagined his long fingers tracing down my neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Wooyoung chuckled quietly, "He’s a newbie. Just got here a month ago, but everyone is all over him already." My brother's voice brought me back to reality as I shook my head to clear my mind of the embarrassing thoughts.

"My dearest brothers and sisters…" The priest started speaking, his low voice sending shivers through my body. The white rosary around his neck was on full display.

From then on, all I could see were his beautiful face and lips, which moved with each smoothly spoken word. I couldn't take my eyes off him; he was like a magnet and I was the iron being attracted to it. It was silent around me; all I could hear was my own quick heartbeat. Just until he started preaching. Suddenly, his soft voice reached my ears and everything just made sense.

"God is here to help you, even in times when you turn your back on him. He watches you still; he protects you still. But he can't protect you from everything. Bad things need to happen in your life so you learn from them, squeezing every lesson out of it so that you can stand up again with your head held high. People make mistakes, and that is what makes us human. Just imagine if God protected you from all bad things, not letting you make any mistake. You’d think that your life was perfect…" He paused so the people would consume what he’s said as he looked around, watching the people in front of him, who were looking up at him like he was God himself. As he was looking around, his eyes suddenly locked onto mine and watched me sharply. I couldn't breathe, "…but the reality is, no one can be perfect, because nothing is perfect. If everything were, life would be boring…we learn from the mistakes we make, because sometimes there's no one behind our back, just ourselves, to keep us going. This is the purpose of God. He gives you lectures in these alone times, so that you can learn how to be your own best friend, so you can love yourself before you love someone else. This is the reason we shall never turn our back to God, he gives us hope and brings us the light. Amen." His eyes were on mine all the while he spoke, and I was stunned. My heart raced like hell; those words felt like they were aimed right at my heart. It reminded me of my old self, who never loved herself, not even for a short period.

I was still mulling over the priest’s speech in my mind as we stood outside the church, when suddenly I saw him standing in front of my family, still holding the Holy Bible. He was smiling at my mother as if they knew each for ages, his dimples showing on both of his cheeks, his eyes turning into crescents. I seriously needed to get my shit together.

"Is she your daughter, who moved away, Mrs. Jung?" He looked at me curiously.

"Yes, she is. Come here." My mother motioned for me to get closer as if I was still twelve years old.

The priest came closer to shake my hand, "I don’t think we’ve met before; my name is Choi San. I'm the new priest." He said with a soft tone as his face beamed with nothing but kindness.

I shook his hand, "Nice to meet you, I'm Jung Y/N." I slightly smiled at him, feeling a little embarrassed due to the thoughts that went through my mind during his service.

We were staring at each other; his hands still haven’t released mine as if the both of us were stunned into sculptures. My mother's voice pulled us back to reality, and San nervously coughed into his palm. What was that?

"My daughter teaches English to little kids in the nearby big town, she just graduated a year ago." My mother said proudly, her palm patting my back with a smile.

"Oh, that is a very great job. It needs a lot of patience, I assume." He seemed genuinely interested.

"Ah, yes, it's a miracle when the kids sit in one place. It's demanding and tiring, but I like it." I smiled at him, trying to seem mature.

"Hang in there, you’ve got this. I can imagine you as a teacher, it fits you well, and I'm sure you are good at it." I didn’t know if I was simply imagining it, but his smile dissapeared for a second as he was glared at me with sharp eyes. I swear to God, he looked like an animal full of desire. And for priests, desire was the last thing they were allowed to feel.

Days later I found myself sitting in a pub, next to San. I can't believe I'm saying this, but the night lead us somehow here, sitting at the bar and talking about anything and everything.

The night started off with me going out with my childhood friends to drink something, because we have missed seeing each other. We went to a pub called Silver. The bar could be linked back to our childhood as a playground lay in its place instead back then, when we were mere kids. How fun life was, a place where we used to play as kids now was a place where we got drunk until we blacked out. At least my friends managed to do that, I was still hanging on. My friends had drunkenly rested their heads on the table where we initially sat at.

So, I had texted their husbands to ‘come collect their women’. They had come after them as all of my childhood friends had someone, except me. One of my friend’s told me that they were going to take me home. The night was wild, I could barely see, but somehow as I was looking around the bar, my jaw fell open as I saw someone. That someone being Choi San, the priest himself. He was sitting on a barstool, his back facing me. He was wearing a black turtleneck, broad shoulders on full display, which curved into a tiny waist. I was shocked over the fact that he was hiding a body like that under the black vestments. So, I told my friend that I would be staying for a little longer.

I had stumbled next to him as he sat by the bar, "Since when do priests drink alone in a pub?" I asked frowning, the words coming out of my mouth a bit slow. Giving him a closer look, the black turtleneck was tight against his thick neck, a silver necklace with a big cross reached between the middle of his pectorals, which were big. The black turtleneck he wore was tucked inside his elegant black pants. He looked like a God, but not a good one.

He looked at me a little surprised, his lips curving into a smile when he saw it was me,

"Is it set in stone that priests can't drink alone in a pub now?" One glass of whiskey was casually sitting between his fingers.

I frowned at that, feeling a little dizzy, "I mean…I guess not?"

He chuckled watching my face as I pouted at the realization, "You are cute." His smile never dissapeared.

I frowned again, analyzing his face, "Can priests say such things as well?" It was just weird; I spoke without thinking first.

San started to laugh at that loudly, his laugh was so soft it melted my heart. As he laughed, he raised his open palm up to his mouth, a golden ring decorating his index finger, his eyes formed into crescents as he looked like a cute cat, "So, do you think priests can't say anything at all? That they can't even look at cute girls like yourself?" He stopped laughing and leaned a little closer to my face, his voice low with bass.

My cheeks heat up from his closeness. What was he doing again? The man sitting in front of me was the world's biggest question mark, he acted very suspiciously. I leaned backwards, away from him as he looked at me with his sharp eyes, eyeing me up and down.

"Are you really a priest?" I folded my arms over my chest, looking at him suspiciously.

"Of course, I am." He smiled at me again with that adorable smile, which wasn't on his face mere seconds ago.

"You don’t act like it." I said leaning towards the counter to ask for some water from the barista.

"You didn't like my service on Sunday?" He asked, analyzing my face.

"I did, you said some wise words, I must admit." I said as I opened the water bottle to drink. As I drank, I felt his gaze fell on my neck, watching me as I gulped the water down. Chills ran through my body.

"C'mon, I'll take you home." He said, standing up.

"You were sipping whiskey minutes ago, are you crazy?" I said while looking up at him, as he stood next to me.

"Priests can drive while drinking, so come on, you are a bit drunk. I have to take care of the locals, as a priest." He said with a smile, his voice soft as a light breeze while he offered his hand for me to take.

I just looked at it, and after a few seconds of pondering, took it. He grabbed my hand firmly, and lead me out of the pub.

The summer night was a little cold, as clouds hid the stars above us, and the breeze sent shivers down my body.

"Are you cold?" San stopped, putting his hand on my back to caress it.

Okay, this was starting to get very weird. I just wanted to go home.

"I'm okay, just want to go home." I replied, trying to distance myself from him.

He silently led the way towards his car, which was an old black Dodge with some silver framing on the windows. Okay, he was a rich priest then, I guess.

The way towards my home was silent and a little uncomfortable. I just wanted to get away from this weird situation, away from him, because the longer I was with him, the stronger I wanted to give into the biggest sin trap. That being the realization that I started feeling attracted to a fucking priest.

When he stopped the car, I was ready to get out, but when I reached for the handle, it did not open. I looked at San frowning.

"Oh, sorry, it needs more pressure to open, this thing is as old as my grandpa." He slowly leaned towards me, reaching his hand out towards the handle. His face was close to my own, there wasn't even an inch between us. He cracked the door open, but his face remained close, and I was so stunned I couldn't move my limbs to get away from him. My heart was racing, I was terrified he might hear it. Then all I could see was him leaning closer, towards my cheeks, and he pecked it softly, like a feather.

"Good night, darling." He whispered into my ear. I could feel his hot breath against my cheek, which melted into my skin, not even letting my body process it. He leaned back in his seat and pretended like nothing had happened. I swear to God, I believed I imagined the whole scene.

When I came to my senses, I quickly scrambled out of the car and speed-walked towards my house, leaving him there without a word.

I might be going insane, but I just couldn't process what happened. This man was a whole mystery, there was no way a priest would act like this, at least not a real one.

My suspicions started getting valid as on some days, when I was walking home from the summer school I was teaching at, I accidentally saw our precious priest in casual clothes, which was opposite of what a priest would wear. For example, I saw him one time in ripped jeans and leather jacket, was it what priests wore these days? He was always with some guys as they seemed to be doing some business. The first time I saw him, I wasn't sure if it was really San, but when I spotted him the second time as well, I was sure it was him. And I couldn't believe he fooled a whole fucking town with his sweet and innocent act of a priest, one everyone adored. But the truth was that he was a fucking menace, lying left and right, pretending to be someone he wasn’t. I didn't know what was going on, but I wanted to find out. There was no way I was going to let him continue fool the whole town. I wanted to get some evidence so that he would be kicked out and punished, so that he wouldn’t get any more innocent people into trouble.

So, I started following him around. I saw him on days when he completed his priest duties, visiting families, going to church, holding services. He did his job well, his acting was very convincing, everyone believed it. But during the night? He disguised himself very well, so that I wouldn’t really understand what was happening, but I knew he was meeting with some sort of gang on some nights, giving money over to them for something in exchange.

One evening, as I was following San through an alley, he had reached the end of it. He had just turned left, so I followed after him. But when I turned left as well, I couldn’t see him. I looked around, frowning as I wondered where he could have gone so fast, when suddenly, all I could feel was being pushed against the cold brick wall, fingers crawling around my neck, holding me still. I opened my eyes, which I had closed from the sudden impact. I came face to face with San's furious expression as he looked down at me. His hair fell into his eyes and they looked deadly, sharp.

"Had a good time following me, darling?" His voice was low, like a furious thunder. When he tilted his head, he looked like a psycho. His leather jacket had tightened around his biceps as he squeezed my throat. The same cross was still around his neck, just like at the pub.

"Who the fuck are you?!" I looked up at him, words hardly coming out of my mouth as his hand was still around my throat.

"Stop sticking your nose into everything, and just go home!" He raised his voice a little and loosened his hand just barely around my neck.

I took that as an opportunity, and grabbed his hand, just to tear it off my neck, "What the fuck San? Are you insane? Stop fucking fooling everyone, and get the fuck out of here!" I shouted at him; I was shacking from anger that boiled inside me.

"You have no idea what is going on, so please, just go home!" He started calming down a little as he looked behind his back from time to time. He was acting even more suspicious.

"Then tell me what this is. Cause I'm so fucking conf—" I was interrupted by an ear cracking breaking sound, followed by a loud engine.

"Fuck, they are here." San quickly grabbed my wrist and pulled me along, running out of the alley to his black Dodge, that was parked on the sidewalk, waiting for us patiently.

"What the fuck is happening?" I said as he opened the passenger seat's door, and pushed me down into the seat.

"Just sit in the car, Y/N, there's no time for questions. We have to get away from here." He closed the door with a loud thump and ran towards the other side of the car, just to sit behind the wheel and ignite the engine to life.

My heart thumped like crazy, I didn't understand what was happening. All I could see was San driving like a maniac, checking the side mirrors all the time as I saw a big black Jeep following after us madly. San geared up and pushed the gas pedal to the hilt, we were almost flying. The engine threatened to jump out of the bumper from the sudden speed. We were on the highway, a lot of cars around us, but San very quickly dodged all of them. We sped past them like lightning, just for San to suddenly swerve right and get us onto a lane leading away from the highway, then he swerved right again, then left. I lost the direction we were going in, all I could see was the black Jeep that chased us now having disappeared into the cold, and scary, night. San hadn’t stopped yet, he was driving us far away from our little town. I was terrified to speak up, I just knew this was going to be the end of me. All because I'm stupid and I can't sit on my ass and mind my own business. All because I just had to follow a fucking priest, who wasn't even a priest.

After having driven for half an hour in deafening silence, we finally stopped in front of a big mansion. I looked up at it through the windshield. So, this was going to be the location of my murder? I guess it would be fine, right? At least it's a nicer place to be killed at.

I couldn't look into San's eyes, but I felt him staring at me. My body was still a little shaky from the sudden adrenaline, I tried to calm down myself and accept my ridiculous fate.

"Hey, Y/N?" San spoke up after minutes of being in the silent and dark car. I guess he was waiting for me to calm down, and for himself as well.

I still couldn't look into his eyes as tears flooded in my eyes, the adrenaline was gone and its demise left nothing behind but fear. I don’t know if I was ever this scared in my whole life before.

I felt San's hand touching mine, very carefully. He might’ve realized that I was terrified, so he didn’t want to scare me anymore, "Hey, look at me." His voice was sweet again, like candies.

I breathed in and out, closing my eyes, to somehow fight against my fear, and then slowly turned towards him. As I looked at him and he saw my teary eyes and terrified expression, his features softened into a worried expression.

"Fuck, Y/N, I won't hurt you! I'm so sorry, darling." He cupped my cheeks, tears appearing in his eyes as well. Upon seeing his worried expression, I somehow felt kind of relieved.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" I asked in a whisper looking, down at my hands in fear.

"Look at me, Y/N!" His fingers curled around my chin to lift my head up. I somehow managed to look into his eyes again, and the softness I saw in them made me relax a bit more, "Of course, I won't kill you, don't say foolish things. I could never hurt you."

He cupped my face again, caressing my cheeks, "I'm sorry if I scared you, darling."

"What is going on?" I whispered again as the words hardly came out of my mouth, having gone dry like a desert.

"C'm here." He took my hand and pulled me towards himself, making me crawl over the center console and straddle his lap. His hands immediately held onto my waist and pulled me closer to himself. I circled my arms around his neck carefully as he pulled me down to his chest and hugged me tightly. I took a deep breath of his sweet candy-like cologne, the skin of his neck warm.

"I'm sorry for scaring you. I just…there is a lot going on, and I lost my head for a second. Please, forgive me…" His hands ran up and down my spine, caressing it, leaving nothing but shivers in its wake. His body was a like a magnet, I couldn't detach myself from it, it felt impossible.

"Tell me what’s going on." I whispered into his neck weakly, closing my eyes.

"Well, I'm not a priest." He said, still caressing my back.

I scoffed, "Wow, shocking news."

"How did you figure it out?" His hand slowly traveled up to the hair on my nape, massaging my scalp as I felt my body temperature rise, comically thinking that I was going to slip right through his fingers from the warm touch.

"I saw you a few times with those people…" The way he started massaging my scalp became a little firmer, and a moan almost slipped through my lips "…doing some business, I assumed. So, I started following you."

"My darling couldn't stay away from me, huh?" His hand resting on my waist slowly slipped under my blouse, his hot fingers starting to trace my warm skin up and down. Suddenly, the fantasy I had in mind while watching him in church, during the service, fought its way to the forefront of my mind, it being his hands slowly tracing down the curves of my body. I would’ve never thought that it was really going to happen.

I slowly lifted my head up from his chest to look into his eyes, which left a fire in its wake. The chill I felt an hour ago was gone in seconds, and I have never felt hotter in my life before seeing the heated desire in his eyes, it could’ve burned me up whole.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked him, trying to get rid of the tension between us.

"That’s a very long story, darling." He leaned his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. He pulling me impossibly close to himself as he held my waist with both hands.

"The night is long now that you have kidnapped me." I whispered barely inches away from his lips as they were almost touching mine.

"Yeah?" He whispered back, his lips hovering over mine, ghosting against them. His hands ran up my warm body passionately, his nails digging into my skin roughly.

I hummed at that, as words couldn't escape my lips, his hands on my skin making my stomach drop. He breathed shakily against my lips and I felt his body getting hotter as he finally pressed his lips against mine hungrily. I kissed him back with greed, our lips moving in sync against each other, my dry lips now fully wetted with his saliva, which tasted like sweet candies. His right hand tangled into my hair, running his fingers through it and it made me moan against his lips. San took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside my mouth, discovering every inch of it as my tongue danced along his passionately. I grinded down against his crotch, and he let out a guttural groan at the stimulation. His hand on my waist slipped down to my ass, and he grabbed it harshly just to push me down against himself harder. We both let out a moan at the feeling, and we separated to get some air as I slowly started feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen. His forehead pressed against mine as we both breathed heavily against each other's mouths.

"We should stop…" San whispered against my mouth, his lips touching mine as he kissed me again, now a little slower. He sucked on my lower lip to take it between his teeth, and bit it so hard that blood started to drop down my chin, seeping into the collar of my blouse. I winced from the sudden pain, making me grind down harder against him. I have long lost my sanity; I have lost against the sins that caged me in until I wasn't aware of anything at all around me.

"Why?" I asked weakly as we separated again.

"Because I want to fuck you properly, on a bed." He told me, sharp eyes boring into my own, almost as if I had no other choice but to obey him. My body shook from the desire I felt for San, and I really had no other choice but to obey his wishes and let him fuck me senseless, giving in to the guilty pleasures.

Part 2->

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grotesquedarling · 11 months ago

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All Yours.

Toby Rodgers x Werewolf!Fem!Reader

Summary: You are assumed dead, after going on a walk and not coming back. Toby finds evidence of the 'death' and thinks the worst. You return hours later, your ability to heal not working well. Toby helps you clean up, which leads to much more.

A/N: This is a one-shot for a story I am writing for Toby, where reader is a werewolf. If anything is confusing in this one-shot, God I pray not, it is connected to my story and things will fall in place as I post it! Divider made by cafekitsune! Please go easy on me, this my first time writing smut, or anything really, in about 2 years, due to writer's block, so things may be clunky.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI!, P in V, descriptions of violence and murder, no protection. (If I have forgotten one, please let me know!)

Word count: 3k

“Wh- What now?” Toby yelled. “Sh-she is d-dead!” He was getting worked up, stuttering more than usual.

Tim and Brian couldn’t do anything, nothing that would be helpful anyway, so they listened. They listened for so long they were to the point of ‘listening’. Which consisted of sitting in the room and dissociating while looking interested.

Toby was getting louder, pacing faster, unsure of how to handle the situation. “Are y-you even li-listening to m-me? SHE’S GONE!”

Before Tim or Brian could say anything, there was a loud bang on the cabin’s front door. As soon as all their eyes shot in the direction of the sound, the doorknob was ripped from the door, leaving a gaping hole where it once was. A few bloody fingers could be seen going into the hole to open the door.

The door swung open and there you stood, bloody and bruised. The three men looked at you in awe and confusion.

“How-?”

“Don’t fucking speak to me,” you growled, “I am going to take a shower.”

Toby just stood there, unable to process the fact that you were actually alive, you may have looked like shit, but there you were, covered in blood and looking hotter than ever.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As the cold water started to run down your body, the dried blood and dirt washed away. The images of the people that had been mauled, maimed, and mutilated didn't go anywhere, though, as a matter of fact, they just lingered and kept replaying.

“Shut up! You stupid fucking cunt, just stay down. Quit fighting back, you won’t win.”

A hand grabbed your hair as you were being yelled at, dragging you over to the lake you had been brought to to be thrown in after being killed. The thought of not being able to swim crossed momentarily, it was gone as soon as it seemed to come. Staying conscious was getting harder by the minute, eyes trying to close and breathing was almost impossible.

Unsure of what to do, a last burst of adrenaline hit, right before getting dunked into the lake. Your hand wrapped itself in the hair of the woman holding you, and dragged her off the dock with you.

Fighting underwater was not as easy as one would hope for in this situation. All you could do was hold on to the throat of the woman trying to murder you. If you’re dying, so is that bitch. Time felt almost as if it was slowed, as you waited for the bitch’s partner in crime to try to help her, he never showed.

Even struggling was hard, but losing is something you were never okay with, you had to win, or not die. Finally, life seemed to have left the woman, but you weren't about to let her trick you. You pulled yourself above the water, dragging the woman with you.

Your hand scrunched a bunch of the woman's hair, and quickly, with all the strength you could muster, you smashed her head into the dock, probably a little more than what would kill her. She will not be coming back from that one, you made sure of it.

As you finished, you stood up and looked down, blood was everywhere, yours and your attacker’s. You had no time to worry about that though, there was a man, somewhere close, who also wanted you dead. Blood loss and pain seemed to start setting in as you reached the grass, knees bruising as you hit the ground.

“What the fuck did they do to me? Why am I not healing? And where the fuck is-?”

Dead. As soon as you saw something, or someone, out of your peripheral vision running off, you noticed the guy was way beyond dead. You gave the woman you left on the dock one last glance, there was absolutely no chance she was coming back, unless someone were to gorilla glue her brain back together.

With both of them dead, you took a few minutes to lay in the grass, in the hopes that regulating your heart rate would start the healing process. It did not.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Tears fell down your cheeks as you sat on the floor of the shower, the back of your head against the wall. Pain was something foreign to you, considering your healing factor, but the healing wasn’t happening, not as fast as usual anyway. The pain was almost unbearable, but the feeling of possibly being dramatic due to never having to feel pain for long seemed to cross your mind.

Unaware of how long you’d be sitting under the warm water, you realized it had been at least 20 minutes. The water started to get cold, the change in temperature wasn’t a bother, considering you run hot anyway, but that meant someone would be checking on you soon, probably Toby. You two had gotten close recently, very close. Too close, according to Tim.

Keeping your composure under the cold water was getting hard, the adrenaline had worn off and everything hurt. Suddenly, you were hyper aware of every bruise and open wound you had, your legs hurt, your body ached, and breathing started getting hard again. A panic attack hit.

A heavy knock hit the bathroom door, and the door opened. The realization of how loud you were sobbing seemed to bring you back to reality. Trying to speak to Tim, who just slung the bathroom door wide open, was impossible at the time, the only thing coming from you were sobs.

The shower curtain moved to the side ever so slightly, Tim’s eyes met yours as you looked up at him, curled into a tight ball, knees against your chest.

“He wanted me to check on you first, can he come in?” Tim seemed to be hiding the worry he had for you, hoping that if he didn’t worry, Toby wouldn’t worry as much. That didn't work. Toby peeked over Tim’s shoulder to see how fucked up you were.

“G-get out Tim,” Toby shoved Tim aside and out the door. Once the bathroom door closed, Toby just stared at you for a minute, taking in the wounds that were not healing. “Why are you st-still bleeding? I th-thought you-.”

Your eyes stayed glued to the wall in front of you, unmoving as your head rested on your knees. Words weren’t coming easy, the panic attack seemed to subside, breathing still seemed to be a big task, and you felt mentally numb.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Toby crouching now and knew he wouldn’t go away without getting the information he wanted and making sure you were okay, and since being okay was not a thing at the moment, he would not be leaving.

“If you’re just gonna sit there and stare at me like that, you might as well get in.” You deadpan, eyes still glued to the wall. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

His eyes widened, “I-I,” he stuttered out, shocked by your offer. “I’ll h-have you know, I haven't ever s-seen you n-naked by ch-choice. You don’t l-lock doors.” He was flustered, but he wasn’t going to turn down the offer. He started to remove his clothes, and quickly.

While trying to stand up so Toby could get in the shower, stars filled your vision and put you right back on your ass and a little yelp left your throat. You leaned into the wall again, completely and utterly ready to give up.

Toby sat down beside you, both of you completely vulnerable, and seemed to be scanning the severity of the damage to your body. He was quiet, more quiet than usual, it was almost scary. His eyes finally made his way up to yours, tears started streaming once again. Never in your life had you wanted to be held so badly, you had always been able to be independent and take care of yourself.

With his eyes still locked on yours, the words ‘hold me,’ slipped from your lips. Without hesitation he pulled you into him, causing you to wince with how fast and rough the action was.

“S-sorry,” he whispered as he gently loosened his grip on you. His fingers started tracing the bruises on your arms, then stomach, then your thighs. Something about him having to be gentle with you for the first time, made you feel a way, you couldn’t tell what that way was, but it was nice.

Leaning into him was a lot better than leaning on that hard ass wall, as he continued looking over your body, you listened to his heart as your head rested against his chest, regulating your own breathing and heart rate.

Pain started to slowly subside, your chest was not as tight, and the anxiety had melted away. Healing still wasn’t happening, at least not fast enough, it only seemed to be slowly coming back, and being the most impatient person in the world it might as well just be not working.

“I don’t understand why I am not healing,” you thought aloud, “If you're done looking at my tits from over my shoulder, will you help me just clean up? I feel absolutely disgusting.”

Toby was flustered once more, and hid his face in your shoulder for a moment. “Y-yeah, I can,” he whispered before helping you up.

Being in such a vulnerable state with you was something he never thought would happen, at least not when you first met anyway. Something about the innocence of sitting with each other, naked in the shower, made him want more than that. He was craving you, in so many different ways.

His impulse control was in overdrive but now, he didn’t want to hurt you, he was supposed to help you clean yourself up. All he could think about, though, was having his way with you. His hands were a little shaky now, trying not to think about grabbing you and pushing you against the wall. That seemed to be the only thought his brain could manage to give him, he was getting frustrated.

“You know, as a werewolf, I can smell many different pheromones, and I-,” you were quickly interrupted before you could finish the sentence.

“Sh-shut the f-fuck up!” Toby practically shouted. “You s-stink and you need h-help showering, let me f-finish helping you.”

“How about I help you after this, then? If I’m not too sore anymore.”

The look on Toby’s face was of pure confusion, “with what?”

You shook your head, “Let’s just finish here first.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Toby caught on a lot quicker than you thought he would, you hadn’t seen him move that fast and sporadic before. He needed you though, and when you offered yourself to him, even with the state you were in, he was not going to let opportunity slip away.

Your healing seemed to be back to a semi-normal speed. All you felt were light aches and any open wound looked like a gnarly scar, but they were closed up and not bleeding. What more could someone ask for?

“What the fuck were you two doing in there?” Brian asked, but quickly took the question back. “You know, don’t actually answer that. You two share way too much information already. Pretend I never asked, I am leaving.”

As Brian walked away, Toby practically dragged you to his room. His excitement was unmatched. He has wanted to do this since you two beat the shit out of each other sparring, which was about three weeks ago. Something about you looking feral unlocked something within him.

The thought of you scraping your sharp canine teeth across his neck, bringing blood to the surface while riding his thigh was something he never knew he wanted or needed. He wanted to be buried deep in your pussy, he wanted to be between your thighs, he wanted, no he needed to have you in every way possible.

Toby couldn’t decide what to do first, his thoughts were racing as you stood behind him while he locked the door. Once it was locked, he turned to you and lost the little bit of composure he had left. He grabbed you and ripped the shirt you had just put on after the shower completely off your body, and pushed you down on his bed.

Now all that was left on you was your panties, his focus wasn’t there yet, though. His kisses were sloppy yet held so much passion. His hands seemed to wander your body as he started kissing down your jaw line and making his way to your collarbone.

A small gasp escaped you when his hands finally found their way to your breasts. The way he squeezed them made you think he’d been waiting for the moment. The way he held onto you in general made you wonder how long he’d been wanting this. You had to admit, you had also been waiting for this, the way Toby had been acting around you, the way his glances started lingering, or how you could hear his heart rate change slightly when he’d see you.

His lips were back on yours now, and he was growing more and more desperate by the second, he whined a little as he started grinding into your thigh. You smirked when you realized how needy he was. He took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You could tell he didn’t know what to do next, the way he moved, twitched, and whined into the kisses. Pulling away from his lips for a moment caused him to become confused, but when your hands moved down his chest and started pulling at his pants he realized you weren’t trying to get away, you were helping him. A giggle came from you when you saw the look on his face.

“Wh-what? D-did I do something wr-wrong?” He was slightly worried.

As you shook your head, your hands went to his hair and pulled back into a kiss. He seemed to melt into you. He was so rough, even while trying to not be rough, then there was you. So gentle and loving. Despite being some sort of monster, you were just so patient, it drove him crazy, he loved it.

“I, I don’t kn-know what to d-do first.” He stuttered through his kisses.

Deciding to take things in your own hands so he wouldn't have to decide, you flipped him onto his back. His eyes went wide, he forgot about your strength, he was not going to argue though. With you on top, he seemed to be in awe. The way you looked was angelic.

“Are you ready?”

All that came from Toby was a whine as you went to sit on him, but you were going slow, way too slow. His hands grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise you as he forced you down. He started grinding up into you, and moving your hips whichever way he wanted, there was no rhythm, just random thrusting.

Now it was your turn to whine. Your hands rested on his abdomen and your claws started to come out. A growl escaped you, as your hips rocked in a more rhythmic way, syncing with his.. The moans and little growls rumbling through you were almost enough to get Toby to cum then and there.

His grip tightened on your hips as he started controlling your movements again, very sporadically. You didn’t care though, you were close too.

“Toby, I’m…” was all you could manage before a warm feeling came over you and you were orgasming. Your head went back and your eyes shut tight, and with your pussy clenching around his dick as you rocked your hips through your high, Toby quickly found ecstasy after you.

A string of moans and cusses came from Toby as he rode out his high with you still on his dick. He didn't want you to move, not yet. His grip on your hips was so tight by now that his knuckles were white. It felt as if he was making sure this was real.

“F-fuck,” He managed to moan out. “That was s-so much b-better than any of the p-porn I’ve ev-ever watched.”

You giggled again as you rolled from the top of Toby to the side of him. You laid your head on his chest for a moment, just listening to his heart. You gently kissed his cheek, before throwing your legs over the side of his bed and putting on a shirt that was on his floor. You were almost certain it was not a clean shirt, you used it though, just in case Tim or Brian came in and saw you with absolutely nothing on. Not that they would ask you any questions about what you were doing though. They have learned their lesson asking that one too many times.

“I don’t know how much longer they will be gone, but I have to pee. When I come back-”

“We’re fucking even ha-harder. I have s-so many th-things I want to try wi-with you.” Toby was very serious saying this, but laughed a little, until he heard Tim and Brian walk in through the front door. He wasn’t going to be able to do anything with you now, they would complain about the noise.

Brian was quick to speak as he walked in, “We’re back, please don’t be fucking in my line of sight.”

Tim shook his head at that statement. “I am going to bed, if you are fucking, do it quietly,”

“They are such party poopers. Looks like it’s bedtime at the old folks home. Whatever, you good if I sleep in here tonight? That couch is going to give me tetanus with those rusty springs stabbing me in my ass cheeks.”

Toby looked from you to his bed, and gave you a strange look. “Your bed is way more comfy!”

“H-how do you kn-know that?”

“I take naps in here when you’re out or whatever.” You spoke matter of factly. The two of you stared at each other, unblinking for about ten seconds. Toby sighed, and promptly made a small space for you.

“D-don't make this a habit.”

“Sleeping in your room? We just fucked in your bed. Shut up.”

#creepy pasta #creepypasta #marble hornets #ticci toby #ticci toby smut #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader #marble hornets smut #marble hornets x reader

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kittenfangirl20 · 4 months ago

Note

Lilo and Stitch Au

⚠️This Story will deal with mental health issues such as depression and suicidal thoughts and drug use ⚠️

Adam sighed as he came home from work, his home cold and empty. He threw his keys down and grabbed his pack of smokes and went out on his patio to have a cigarette.

He loves his job, his own gardening business but coming home to no one? Not even his kids, Eve and Lilith had his kids and his missed them so much.

Adam set his smoke in the ash tray for a moment and clasped his hands together. It's been so long since he's ever prayed but it couldn't hurt to try.

Adam: God, it's me Adam. I know I haven't done this in a while but I'm so lonely. I know you probably have bigger fish to fry than me but a companion, not necessarily a romantic one would be nice to have. Someone kind, who will be good to me........ I'm not sure how much more I can take.

He picked up his smoke and finished it before going to bed, he felt so silly even trying to ask for something like that.

Especially when he didn't deserve it.

Up in Heaven, Lucifer, the angel of Light and Creativity was being scolded by the Queen of Heaven Sera. These people were so stiff all the time it's like they can't take a joke.

Sera: You can't keep doing things like this Lucifer.

Lucifer: Why not? Nothing bad happened.

Sera narrowed her eyes: Winners got hurt.

Lucifer: So?

Sera: So, this is Heaven not Hell winners shouldn't be getting hurt. I know you aren't fond of humans-

Lucifer scoffed and rolled his eyes, not being fond of humans was an understatement. He hates humans.

Sera: But you have to stop!

A golden scroll appeared in front of her, those ones came from God himself. She read it over and came up with an idea.

Sera: Since you want to behave like a brat you'll be punished like one. We are going to send you to Earth to help a human soul in need. And you'll only be at half power.

Lucifer: What the fuck Sera!?

Sera glared: Should you fail and this human dies and their soul goes to Hell, you will go with them.

Lucifer couldn’t believe it, he was being sent to Earth to help some human. Humans were a failure, they brought about things like war, racism, sexism, homophobia, and genocide. To make matters worse some of them even used God to justify these horrific things. But before he could object any further, the ground opened up beneath him and he fell. He fell until he hit the ground. He looked around and saw that he was on the Kamehameha Highway.

Lucifer internally: Great I am in Hawaii.

Before he could do anything else he was hit by an 18 wheeler which sent him practically flying across the highway. Thankfully it couldn’t kill him even if at half his strength and power. He got up and stumbled off the highway and he found himself at Adam’s front yard. Since he no longer had his wings, he couldn’t fly away. While he couldn’t die from that, being still hurt like a bitch and he passed out. In the morning Adam walked and saw someone passed out on the ground. He wore white, light blue, and gold robes. Before he could try to help him he got up. His skin was white making Adam wonder if the man was an albino. He had bright red circles on his cheeks, hair that looked it was made of threads of gold, and piercing blue eyes.

Lucifer: Human, what is your name?

Adam: Human? My name is Adam Kadmon.

Hearing the name told Lucifer that this human was the one that Lucifer was forced to help.

Lucifer: Adam Kadmon, the human I am Lucifer Morningstar. Be not afraid, for I am angel sent from Heaven to help you.

Adam: If you are an angel where are your wings?

Lucifer: They were taken from me because my pranks had harmed some Winners. So I was sent to Earth to help you because you prayed for help.

Adam: So I pray to God for a companion and I become community service to get an angel back to Heaven? That sounds about right.

Adam know whether to believe Lucifer or not, but it looked like he was stuck with him.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

#hazbin hotel #adam #hazbin hotel adam #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #adam/lucifer #adamsapple #guitarduck

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sweetbonniebel · 10 months ago

Text

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Six

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Masterlist <-previous , next->

minors mdni

110 AC King's Landing

You stood before the mirror as maids adjusted your dress, a long violet gown with dark red threads of dragons, a low cut cleavage and long sleeves that widened at your elbows. The same dress your mother wore when she married your father, seven and ten years ago.

Rhaenyra watched from your bed as the maids frantically moved around you fixing your dress, hair and putting on jewelry. Rhaenyra had to admit that you looked beautiful, the violet material of the gown matched your complexion and the embroidery went well with your red eyes. She never understood how you received different eyes than the Valyrian purple, both of your parents had violet eyes and yet you defied the custom.

Once you deemed that the maids nagging was enough you dismissed them with a flick of your hand. They quickly left your chamber leaving you and the heir.

"You look beautiful..." Rhaenyra said tracing the hems of your gown.

"It would be rather odd if I didn't." You jested, the princess laughed lifting the rather sad mood.

"I will miss you." She said leaning into you.

"As will I. But remember you have Laena, Daemon and a plethora of other ladies who would jump into fire for you." You tried to remind your niece.

"And yet none of them will ever compare to you." She answered, tears were beginning to form at your waterline, you blinked them back to avoid reddening your eyes.

Ser Steffon escorted you to the carriage that would take the royal family to the Great Sept. The familiar sculptures and tapestries of Old Valyria brought a sense of comfort in this rather nervous day.

The Crownlander's armor rattled with every move.

"Ser Steffon?" You called the knight.

"Princess." His gruff voice answered.

"I would like you to become my sworn shield and travel with me to Dorne." You announced, he widened his grey eyes. "A familiar face always makes a person feel more at home, despite being leagues away."

"I would be honoured, princess." He kneeled on one knee in front of you, you chuckled and placed your palm against his shoulder.

"Rise, Ser Steffon."

...

The great sept was packed with onlookers, the small folk collecting outside the gates of the temple. Your brother despite has decided to give you away. The heavy cloak of your house rested upon your shoulders. Viserys took you by the arm and led you to the altar.

"Who gives this woman away?" The septon asks

"I Viserys of House Targaryen King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm give away Princess y/n of House Targaryen to Prince Qoren of House Martell." Your brother recited his verse, his hands took of your cloak as he retreated into the crowd.

"And who takes this woman to be his wife." The septon continued

"I Qoren Martell Prince of Dorne, the lord of Sunspear take this woman, Princess y/n of House Targaryen to be my wife." The Dornishman answered, from your multiple talks you shared over the few weeks you learnt that he was not overly religious. You preferred to marry in the tradition of old Valyria, but Qoren was not of Valyrian descend. According to the council any other ceremony than in the faith of the seven would be an insult to the high septon and the faith.

"In the eyes of the seven you are now bound in holy matrimony. As the father provides justice, the mother mercy, the warrior strength, the smith mends all things broken, the maiden courage, the crone wisdom and the stranger who offers only death, you shall provide for each other with all that the seven pointed star provides." The septon prayed, once he finished he glanced at Qoren.

"With this cloak I bring you under my protection. I will keep you safe, cared for and respected I pledge this in the eyes of the old gods and the new." He draped the orange cloak with a red sun pierced by a golden spear on your shoulders.

"With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife." Qoren recited the verse as you did yours, once the words have left your throat, the prince leaned in and kissed your lips.

"You are now man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever." The septon ended the ceremony and the crowd erupted in applause and cheers. You smiled at your husband and he did the same.

You raised your joined hands in the air and the small folk erupted in cheers, and applause.

"Long live Princess y/n!"

"May your marriage be blessed!"

"The mother will bless you with many children, princess!"

Different shouts echoed through the great structure. You smiled at the small folk and waved and glanced at your husband to find him staring at you.

"You look radiant, wife." He mused caressing your palm with his thumb.

"You look very handsome yourself, husband."

The feast was grand, the guests danced, jested and ate their fill. You watched from your seat at the high table as Rhaenyra danced with Aegon, the young boy barely keeping up. You laughed at the sight happy that the two were getting along.

"Sister might I have this dance?" Daemon approached the high table, you sighed and nodded taking his hand.

"You look ethereal." Your brother said guiding you to the dance floor, where bards and musicians played.

"Thank you." You answered spinning.

"Will you be happy?" The rogue prince asked.

"Since when does it matter? But I will, If not I shall feed him to Vermithor." You jested.

"A true Targaryen."

"I will miss you..."

"As I you. You are my favourite sister after all."

"I'm your only sister."

"Exactly... According to the traditions of our house I would be the one to marry you."

"If that were true I wouldn't marry you, I would marry Viserys."

Daemon scoffed and picked you up to spin your body.

"I would sooner let Caraxes eat me that see you married to our brother."

The thing you dreaded most was the bedding ceremony, not because you were afraid of loosing your maidenhead but because you refused to have strange men undress you while making rude comments as was the Andal tradition.

After a talk with the council, you announced that the bedding ceremony won't take place. Some members, like Tyland Lannister and the Maester had voiced their disapproval but Daemon quickly silenced them.

Your maids carefully took off the heavy gown and detangled your hair, leaving you in your thin linen undergarments. Your husband has been instructed to visit you in your chambers to consummate the marriage. You knew what the act consists off, your ladies explained as did Ser Steffon. Aemma was just ten and one when she married Viserys you were thankful that you were six years older than the Queen.

Steffon's voice interrupted your thoughts, they were rather grim, something a bride should not concern herself with on her wedding day. Qoren walked in, a simple orange robe covered his body. You smiled a bit nervously at the man.

"It will be all right, I will take great care of your needs." His words slightly settled the nervousness that rattled your insides. You nodded thankfully, Qoren approached your form. You sat at the stool of your vanity, the Martell kneeled before you and took your hands into his.

"If you do not want to we can wait." He proposed but you shook your head.

"The court will talk if I have not been bedded by my husband." You responded looking at the man with slight fondness. He nodded and raised his head so he can meet your lips in a kiss.

"Have you done this before?" You asked as Qoren laid you on your bed.

"I have, my cousins took me to a brothel when I was four and ten." Your husband answered truthfully.

"Have you?"

"Of course not!" You protested, Qoren chuckled.

"I did not mean it as an insult, in Dorne we do not care for the brides maidenhead."

"It seems as if Dorne is a paradise for women." Qoren chuckled and pressed his lips against yours.

Qoren took off the long orange robe leaving him only in a thin linen shirt. You could see the outline of his manhood through the material. Your husband gently slid the undergarments from your body leaving you bare. The chilly air caused goosebumps to erupt on your skin, your nipples pebbled.

"You are beautiful." Your husband whispered as he placed kissed from your neck to your nether regions.

"Qoren-" You whimpered as he pressed a kiss on your mound.

"Shh, I will take care of you." He continued his ministrations, pleasure coiled in your abdomen. Breathy moans escaped your lips as you tangled your hand in Qoren's curly dark locks bringing his mouth closer to the place you needed him most.

"Moan louder I wish to hear how good I make you feel." His tongue pressed against your nub. A moan left your lips at the action.

"So good, please." You whispered as Qoren worked faster, the wetness between your legs grew with each passing second. The only thing on your husbands mind was to bring you ecstasy.

"Oh!" You moaned as pleasure rippled through your body, muscles spasming as Qoren licked your pussy clean.

He chuckled and propped himself up on his elbows, the peach fuzz on his chin glowed with your essence. You smiled hazily at him, blush covering your cheeks as you pressed a kiss against his lips.

"I want you to-" You begun but stopped feeling Qoren's cock press against your folds, coating himself in your wetness. "Put your cock inside."

"As you wish princess." The Martell price smiled, pumping his manhood a few times before gently pressing the tip against your entrance. You sucked in a breath at the unfamiliar intrusion. It was different than your fingers, warmer and bigger. Once his tip breeched your entrance a shaky moan left both of you.

"You're so warm." Your husband moaned and inched himself inside. You felt pleasure as his cock caressed your walls.

"Qoren harder." You moaned clawing at his back, the man nodded and pressed himself fully inside you. His pelvis touching yours, as his balls rested against your bottom.

Your body moved with his thrusts, his lips sucking kisses against your skin. Sex felt good, you were sure to do it more often.

"Close, y/n" He mumbled caressing your thigh. His other hand pressed against your nub amplifying your pleasure and brining you closer and closer. You felt him twitch, the kiss he pressed against your breast tipped you over the edge. Your walls spasming around his length triggering his own release. Ropes of hot seed filled your womb.

Ragged breath filled the chamber as Qoren pressed himself deep inside you.

"That felt good." You said caressing your husbands head that rested comfortably between your neck and shoulder.

"It did princess." The Martell smiled, wanting to roll over but you pressed your heel in his back preventing him from doing so.

"It feels good to have you inside me."

Tired from the activities the two of you fell asleep in each others embrace.

...

After a fortnight your husband has departed for sunspear, you stayed behind preferring to fly on dragon back to your new home than endure the endless bumpy ride of a carriage.

You dressed your red and black riding leather, Rhaenyra put your hair into three long braids. You leaned into her touch.

"I hate to see you go." Rhaenyra said kissing the top of your head. You sadly smiled.

"I will come back soon. Time will fly by quickly." You answered, holding Aegon in your arms. Sunfyre was strapped in a cage on Vermithors side.

You blinked away the tears that threatened to fall as you hugged Rhaenyra.

...

Princess y/n left King's Landing in 110 AC to join her husband Qoren Martell in Dorne. It is said that the red keep has lost it's warmth with the princesses departure. - From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

#aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd x reader #viserys targaryen #hotd #daemon targeryan #daemon x reader #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targeryan #qoren martell #vermithor

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