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ggomos-maribat · 9 months

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Escapism: Overshadowing and Intangibility

Part 6.1 of Heirs Apparent | AO3

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There was a time when Jason didn't believe in being saved. He knew himself what it was like to cling uselessly to hope, to wait for someone—anyone—to come to him at the right moment. He only believed in relying on himself, to wiggle out of a bad situation somehow until he could get away. Even now, he didn't want to stand still, despite the triplets fiercely battling each other. Yet he felt a sliver of helplessness, thinking that they wouldn't stand a chance against a horde of assassins.

Then amidst the inner and outer conflicts, he finally saw it: the true image of a savior.

By the name of Talia al Ghul.

"Hello, dears." She smiled. "Follow me, I'll lead you to the escape route."

Seeing Talia was . . . a breath of fresh air. During his time with her, Jason wouldn't have expected her to have children. But it wouldn't be surprising if she were protective of them.

"Why should we?" Dick asked warily.

She narrowed her eyes. "Because my children are risking their lives creating a distraction."

True enough, the three were still at each other's throats. When Jason took a look, he saw Danyal on top of Marinette with a knife, while the latter was aiming a rifle at him. But he caught the girl's feral grin when she aimed the gun not at her brother's head, but at the upper deck with the League elders in it.

"You gave them a signal," Tim concluded out loud, eyes wide.

Jason easily followed Talia when she plunged back in the darkness, with his brothers taking hesitant steps behind him. In that situation, there was no one else to trust but her. No, Jason was confident that she would lead them to safety. She guided them back through the winding paths, where there was a trail of knocked-out assassins.

"So . . ." Jason trailed off. "The triplets, huh?"

"Which one have you met?"

"Marinette."

Jason stared at the back of her head. He wished he could see the kind of expression she was making.

"My precious girl," said Talia, "I thought it was better to hide them away."

"I think it was better that way, too."

She only nodded at that. She must've sacrificed a lot . . . Jason thought, to keep her children alive. He hadn't known Marinette (or Danyal) before that time, and she barely talked about her mother. But he saw Talia in her, more than just from her looks. Her snappy remarks were all Talia. Her sharp gaze was all Talia. Her fighting style was similar to the one Talia had taught him.

Hell, even Damian had resembled Talia more than Bruce. And that boy spoke about his mother with pride albeit only on occasion.

They reached the bottom of a staircase when another set of footsteps echoed on the stone walls. Then, a voice rang out from a passage to their right. "Umi!"

Marinette fell into Talia's embrace, head buried on her mother's shoulder. Jason gave some distance for the sake of their reunion, seeing how Marinette appeared so vulnerable.

Talia placed her hands on Marinette's shoulders after they parted. "Listen, my love, I can't be with you the whole way."

"What?"

The woman looked at the path where Marinette came from. "I have to settle things with the opposing faction. But you must escape quickly."

"But . . . but Damian and Danyal haven't seen you yet."

"I'm sorry, Habibti."

Jason could tell Marinette wanted to hold her back, but Talia headed towards the other way in the blink of an eye. He could see that Marinette was about to follow but he stepped forward to stop her.

"She wants you to get out of here," Jason told her firmly. "You know her. She'll be fine."

Although the tension hadn't left her fists and she still seemed distracted, Marinette stopped herself and continued along the main passageway.

"We haven't seen her in so long," she mumbled, but then shook her head and faced the three of them. "That reminds me, you at least need something to defend yourselves with."

Immediately, she started removing all kinds of weapons on her person (Jason didn't even know how she was able to carry all of it). Tim gaped at her. "How many weapons did you take?"

"Enough."

She tossed a pair of Escrima sticks to Dick, a retractable staff for Tim, and a pair of handguns and small blades to Jason. Jason noticed she kept a small gun and a knife for herself as well. He was reminded of some rumors during his time in the League: there was once an assassin skilled in handling guns, perhaps the best the League had ever seen. Now that he thought about it, no one ever specified that it was a man.

"Where's Damian and Danyal?" Dick asked.

"The separate gates we went into never lead to connecting paths until the exit. An assassin under Mother's faction told us," Marinette relayed. "It got messy in the arena, but we decided to split up so we could rescue the hostages."

"But why return to the same gate?"

She shrugged. "Caught up in the moment. We didn't notice which gate was which so I guess I'm back here with you. If Mother's plans are going well, the others should be on their way out as well."

Easier said than done, thought Jason. There were rumbles heard from afar, scuffles that could only be the clashing of both League factions.

Marinette glanced behind them. "There are assassins following. Let's hurry."

The dark path seemed unending but they picked up their paces, going straight. Footsteps began to sound out louder—Jason knew they'd have to fight back.

The girl in front of them gasped. "A dead end?"

Before Jason could move, Marinette turned back, pushing past them. "I can hold them back."

"There's too many. We'll help," Dick offered.

"No. As soon as they're caught off guard, go and find another path to the exit."

"We're not letting you handle all of them on your own," Jason insisted, "You'll definitely die. It's not fun dying."

She scoffed. "I've died thirty-six times, Jason. You're not special."

". . . What?"

Gunshots rang out of the blue as Marinette wounded the assassins one by one with a careful aim. Yeah, there's no way in hell we're leaving her here, Jason decided. He lunged for an attack, facing their assailants head on and using his knife on them. His brothers followed suit, much to Marinette's voiced protest.

Suddenly, an assassin stopped on his own, pausing as if paralyzed and suddenly banged his head on the wall to drop down unconscious. Others mimicked the same movement though doing so one by one.

"What the fuck?" Jason heard Tim whisper under his breath.

"Danny?" Marinette lowered her gun.

"Oh you rang?" The voice of a child echoed in the tunnel just as the last body dropped. "Wait, you mean Danny with a 'y'?"

As if the day couldn't get stranger, a little girl materialized in front of them from a wisp of . . . something otherworldly, yet strangely familiar to Jason. The only way he could describe her is that she looked like a younger version of Marinette.

"Ellie," Marinette blinked in surprise. "You're Ellie, aren't you?"

The girl, 'Ellie', crossed her arms while looking at Marinette. "How do you know my name? How do you know my brother?"

"Because he's my brother, too."

What? Jason's head was spinning.

"Danny doesn't have other siblings," Ellie narrowed her eyes.

"That you know of," Marinette said, "For now, you just have to trust us, okay? We have to get out of here."

"But Danny and Jazz—"

"Should also be on their way out," Marinette cut her off. "Do you know how to get out of here? Did you come here alone?"

The little girl grimaced, "Ehm, technically Sam and Tuck are with me but I just got ahead of them. Oh! But I met Batman and these two cool heroes on the way here. We split up after we connected comms but I lost the signal."

"Batman? You met Batman?" Dick repeated.

"Uh, yeah the old man."

"The two heroes, who were they?" Marinette's face twisted into a frown.

"Viperion and Ryuko!" Ellie's blue eyes practically glittered. "They were really cool. I want to be like them."

When Jason looked at Marinette, her face was unreadable. On top of that, Jason didn't expect Bruce to actually come to the base on his own without backup.

"Are we not going to talk about how you two look alike?" Tim chimed in. "And what the fuck just happened? Did those assassins just . . . die?"

"Oh yeah, we do look alike." Ellie's eyebrows raised, like she had just realized it.

"Um, hello?" Tim poked an unconscious assassin with his foot. "Are they dead?"

"I overshadowed them."

"Over-what?"

Meanwhile, Marinette sighed and rubbed her head. "It's a long story but not my story to tell. We should focus on getting out of here. Ellie, do you know the way out?"

"It's over there." Ellie gestured towards the supposed dead end. "That wall actually opens up."

The child glides past them and disappears into the wall. Jason had to do a double take. A few seconds later, the wall makes a rumble and a portion of it slides to the right to reveal a narrow opening.

"Um, again, what the fuck," Tim stared at the new pathway in astonishment.

Marinette's shoulders visibly sagged in relief. "Thanks, Ellie. We have to hurry; more assassins might be behind us."

----

Danny was pretty sure the boom they just heard was an explosion. He ran through the shaking tunnels, feeling the dust sprinkle on top of him. They want to stop our escape, he cursed inwardly, and also the other faction. Looking behind him, he could see the three Parisians running their breaths ragged.

He closed his fists. If things get worse, I might be forced to transform. Them too.

"Umm, does this count as an emergency to transform?!" Chloe shrieked after another cacophony of blasts reverberated.

"Save your transformations," Danny told them before Adrien could reply. "We don't have a way to recharge your kwamis if your timers run out. I'll protect you."

"Are you gonna enlighten us how?" Alix asked.

Danny was planning to make up a lame half-truthful explanation when they saw that their path was obstructed. Rubble covered up the entirety of the opening, creating a dead end in the small passage.

"Is there another way out?" Adrien breathed out.

No . . . we'd have to come back all the way where we came from. Danny clenched his jaw. Mother's attendant said this was our only path.

"I can transform and Cataclysm—"

"No." Danny made his voice firm. "We don't know the extent of its destruction. This whole tunnel might collapse . . . I have an idea."

He gulped down his uncertainties and turned around to face them. "Everyone hold hands. We're going through this."

Alix tilted her head. "What? Have you actually lost your mind?"

Danny held his hand out. "Just trust me on this, alright? It's the only way."

The other hesitantly formed a link: Alix at the rear, Chloe in front of her, then Adrien taking Danny's hand. The blonde boy seemed to recoil a little when he felt his skin. "Um . . . your hand's really cold."

Despite the situation, Danny chuckled. "So I've been told." He checked the path where they came from in case there were pursuers. "Listen . . . whatever you do, don't let go."

Chloe huffed. "That definitely doesn't sound ominous."

"Just relax. This'll be quick."

Tugging the group forwards, Danny turned intangible and passed it on to the rest. They swiftly walked through the rubble, reaching the other side of the blockage. Fortunately, the rest of the path seemed open.

"What the heck was that?!" Chloe gawked at their surroundings.

"You can let go now." Danny ran a hand through his hair. "It's a power of mine. It's hard to explain in detail right now but it has something to do with me being half-ghost."

"I'm sorry, half-ghost?" Adrien's eyes widened.

"This and that happened and now I'm half-dead," Danny smiled, looking at their different reactions. Adrien looked like he had just obtained a puzzle piece about an oddity. Alix was looking at her hands, muttering to herself. Chloe's expression said something like 'am I being ridiculed right now?'

"Don't think too much about it—"

Danny stopped, sensing a presence ahead of them. A presence nearing them. He moved forward, ready to shield the others if things turn south, then he saw who had just approached them.

"Damian?" A gravelly voice rang out.

Danny calmed his stance. "I'm not Damian."

Batman seemed to have reacted but he kept silent. Danny wished he could see behind the cowl. Sure, I wanted to meet him someday but Ancients, why now?!

"Huh, you are shorter than I expected, Mr. Batman sir." Danny gazed at the masked figure of his biological father.

"That's really Batman?!" Chloe whispered behind him.

"We're currently headed to the exit," Danny explained with a steady tone. "The others are separated but they should be on their way out too. I'm Danny and these are Adrien, Chloe, and Alix."

Batman, too, took on a more professional demeanor. "You match the description of the ones who went missing in the bus incident. But the ones I came here for—"

"I said they should be on their way out too, old man." Dami-akhi wasn't kidding when he said the old man was crazy stubborn. But then again, we all got it from him. "You're not getting through that rubble. It's blocked. So please escort us to the exit, 'kay?"

"How did you get through?" Batman pressed on.

". . . It's a secret." Danny put a finger to his lips. "Can we get a move on now? This place can go kaboom any second you know."

The vigilante finally relented, turning the other way to lead them along the path. Danny could hear the three conversing among themselves, debating why Batman would go through the effort of rescuing the Wayne children in a faraway location.

"Do you know an 'Ellie'?" Batman asked suddenly.

Danny stiffened for a moment. "Ellie? Ellie's here?"

"Yes, we met at the entrance and split up at a fork along with two other heroes, Ryuko and Viperion. I lost contact with them a while ago as well as the Batplane, which Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley are piloting."

This girl . . . He didn't expect her to actually get herself involved. And Tucker and Sam are here too?! A part of him wanted to tell off Batman for not stopping them, but he knew how persistent they were. Especially Ellie, who was an entire force to reckon with on her own.

Tucker and Sam are piloting the Batplane. Ancients, my friends are crazy.

"Shit. Ryuko and Viperion are here too?" Adrien caught up with Danny's pace.

"Parisian local heroes?" Batman asked.

Adrien held his tongue and looked away. Danny made a mental note to help steer the conversation away from the topic of Paris and Miraculi if anything came up.

"I have to ask you as well, Daniel, what your relation is to Damian Wayne and Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

Wow, interrogation time already? Danny let out a scream of frustration in his head. Can we, like, escape from here first?

"It's just Danny." He kept his expression neutral. "And isn't it obvious, Batman? They're my siblings."

#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #bio dad bruce wayne #dc x miraculous #danny phantom au #dc x danny phantom x miraculous #heirs apparent #triplets dami danny and mari

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justalonelyslytherin · 1 year

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My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | One

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Pairing: secret king!Steve Rogers x heir apparent!female Reader

Summary: Steve, Sam, and Bucky start off their vacation in the remote lake town with an adventurous evening stumbling over three lost girls in the woods.

Warnings: Reader is mentioned once or twice having brunette hair for the convenience of setting her apart from her sisters, no otherwise description of her appearance, wandering in the dark in the forest, mentions of wild/dangerous animals and killers/assassins

Wordcount: 3.2k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don't allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don't steal my work.

A/N: The first chapter is a little bit different, almost exclusively in Steve's pov. We'll switch towards a Y/N focused pov starting in chapter 2, with the sprinkle of Steve's pov here and there. the beautiful Dividers are by the lovely @/firefly-graphics

Taglist: open, will be tagged in the comments

“Everything is handled. Although I can’t promise it will stay that way for long. Enjoy your getaway while you still can.”

“Thank you Hill.” Steve ended the call, slowly lowering his arm and shoving his phone into the pocket of his pants. With a sigh, he leaned back in the car seat and looked out of the window.

“Vacation,” Sam huffed in an amused tone, eyes focused on the road he was driving on as he barely shook his head. “Can’t remember the last time I took one.”

Steve smiled, “Me neither.”

Bucky in the passenger's seat snorted loudly. “Time you got one.”

That Steve could only agree with. And it was exactly why they were on their way. They’d been on the road for a couple of hours already, making the track from one end of the country to the other one. There was only one place Steve could imagine spending a wintery holiday just before Christmas. It was a small and quiet town, nestled between the shallow foothills of the mountains and surrounded by a bunch of smaller lakes not far away from the border. Not many people chose to visit it.

“How long until we are there?” Bucky groaned as he shifted in his seat and stretched his arms high above his head. As high as the ceiling of the car allowed him to. Steve could hear his longest friends' joints creak through the motion.

“Not long,” Sam grumbled, glaring at the brunette before he glanced back at the road again.

“We are almost there,” Steve agreed, eyeing the familiar scenery. It warmed his heart as he spied the hints of the lake peeking through the trees. Shortly after the road curved to the left, following the outline of the lake as the town came into view.

“Wow,” Sam, whose first time it was there, exclaimed in awe. Both Bucky and Steve were equally mesmerized however much quieter. They had traveled there many times, yet the first view of the town never wasn't magnificent.

Driving through the town many heads turned as the townspeople watched them pass by. “Turn left here,” Bucky’s gruff direction came as they had passed almost entirely through the town, the Townsquare and most houses already behind them.

“Here?” Sam asked doubtfully as he eyed the small dirt road that was easy to miss. The snow covering it made the street blend into the surrounding trees so well, one might miss it entirely not knowing of its existence.

“Yes,” Steve agreed, his heart jumping in his throat as they pulled into the inconspicuous road, “just follow it.”

Leading away from the town for a good 10 minutes it felt as if their car was swallowed by nature. The road took a couple of winding turns until after the last one the trees to either side of the road parted and revealed a big plot of land. In the middle of it sat a cozy, sleepy cabin. Three stories high and big enough to house an entire little village of its own, Steve instantly felt at home.

As the car came to a halt before the double-door garage, he couldn’t get out fast enough. While Bucky went on to open the garage, Steve stepped through the snow and rounded on the cabin. Standing before it he craned his neck. Memories flooded his mind as the smile on his lips grew with each passing moment.

“I thought you said the cabin hadn’t been used in a while.” Bucky took his stand beside his friend, glancing up at the cabin too.

“I asked someone in the village to set it up for us a couple of days ago. Everything is defrosted and we got a stocked pantry and fireplace.” Grinning, Bucky looked over at Steve.

“Now that sounds like a proper vacation, even for us!” Both of them laughed as Steve shoved his friend by the shoulder.

“You could have had a proper vacation even before. No one will recognize me here.”

“Not with that mug, no.” Bucky agreed and eyed the dark hair on the blonde’s lower face. Before Steve could say something, a shout came from the garage.

“Some help maybe?” Sam had already started to open the trunk and empty out their bags. In unison, Steve and Bucky walked over to help bring their bags into the cabin.

“A fire, then a nap and food, how does that sound?”

"Ha! It's cold!” Sam shuddered as he stepped onto the veranda, closing the glass doors with his elbow as his hands were filled with three beers. Steve and Bucky, who were already sitting on two chairs with a small fire lit in a brazier out of metal and stone, chuckled at their friends' antics.

“I told you to wear a damn coat,” Bucky teased him, earning a glare. Sam gave one of the three bottles of beer to Steve and held the other one above Bucky’s head, just out of his reach.

“Yeah and next time you can get yourself your own beer, Barnes.”

Steve rolled his eyes at his friend's quarrel. He was used to them being at each other’s throats. He also knew that it was mostly for show and deep down they both cared deeply for one another. They just were too stubborn to acknowledge it.

Nursing his beer the blonde leaned further back in this chair and spread his knees out. The residual snow, after they’d cleared most of it off, crunched beneath his feet.

“Man, this is serene. I could get used to this view and the quietness up here.” Sam sighed as he dropped into his own chair. Two hums followed his words, agreeing with them.

“Just laying back and doing nothing,” Steve mumbled as he glanced towards the treeline. It had gotten dark about half an hour ago, even if it wasn’t that late yet. The sun set quickly around here.

“Oh come on, you’d be bored by midday.” Bucky scoffed and looked at the blonde as he rolled his eyes. “And then Sam and I would have to hunt you down and stop you from getting into trouble.”

“Not like we don’t have to do that on the regular already.”

Steve wanted to protest, in fact, he had already opened his mouth to give them a piece of his mind when they heard a crack not far away from the forest.

“You heard that?” Sam asked as all three of them watched the darkened scenery with watchful eyes. Then another noise came from within the woods. This time, not a crack, it sounded much more…human.

Steve put his beer on the ground and stood up. Stepping onto the edge of the veranda he strained his ears. “It sounded like a person,” he mumbled. There was no third noise which seemed strange to him and without further thought, he decided to investigate.

“Steve…Hey! Steve!” Bucky shouted after him as the blonde already bounded down the steps into the garden and strode towards the edge of the woods.

“For fucks sake,” he grumbled as he looked over at Sam. Putting down his beer with enough force to crack the bottle he jumped over the railing to follow the blonde. Sam scrambled into the house to get his coat and ran after the both of them.

“You can’t just walk into the goddamn woods in the dark Rogers!”

“Without us even less Punk!”

Steve however kept marching on, paying the two of them no mind. He had a mission now. Whatever had caused the noise in the woods it must be special. The woods around the cabin were always quiet. The occasional birds or deer could be heard or seen in the mornings but they made many different sounds. Something in his gut told him to investigate the noise and Steve never went against his gut feeling.

The path he chose through the trees was unsteady and went every which way there was the most space to get to where the noise had come from. Steve stopped as he heard twigs breaking. Looking back Bucky and Sam were standing still too, Bucky shrugged his shoulders. It hadn’t been one of them then. Another crack made Steve look into the dim maze of trees until he spotted something light peeking out between them. With newfound vigor, he stepped forward when a hand landed on his shoulder. Glancing behind, Bucky glared at him and shook his head.

Sam walked past, taking the lead. Only when he was several meters in front of them did Bucky retract his hand, “Don’t be stupid punk. I won’t hear the end of it if you manage to get yourself killed on your vacation.”

Before Steve could answer that he wouldn’t get himself killed, shouts sounded from further ahead. Steve could distinctly hear Sam’s shout of “Whoa!” mixed with a second voice.

“Sam!” he shouted and sprinted forward as he saw his friend go down. Skidding to a halt in what was a small clearing in the snow-covered forest Steve and Bucky didn’t trust their eyes. Sam was sitting on the ground, clearly surprised but fine at first glance. Before him stood a young blonde woman who seemed as surprised to see them as they were seeing her. Her arms were still stretched out from whatever movement she had done to send Sam onto his ass.

“What the hell?!” came his exclamation as he fought to get up from the slippery ground. Steve held out a hand to his friend, pulling Sam up. Bucky meanwhile didn’t take his eyes off the strange young woman.

“Who are you?” he asked gruffly and sternly. Before the blonde could answer, more cracking of twigs resounded before two figures barged out of the trees behind her.

“Yelena! Are you okay!” The taller one of the two new women asked, her brows drawn down in concern, eyes flitting over the frame of the blonde one.

“What were you thinking walking off?” The redhead asked her, arms crossed before her chest and scoffing. It was only after that they noticed Steve, Sam, and Bucky just a short distance behind Yelena.

Steve’s heart made a leap as the eyes of the brunette landed on him. She was pretty, he noted, very pretty. Her gaze was electrifying, rendering him unmovable as her eyes fixated on him. She moved slowly, carefully gauging their reaction, to step between the blonde and them.

“Who are you?” Her silky smooth voice caused a shiver to ripple down his back. Steve quietly gasped at the sensation, at the way her voice seemed to penetrate every pore of his being.

Had it not been for both Bucky and Sam scoffing and guffawing Steve would have been stuck in his daze forever. Now however his eyes jumped to his friends, who were ready to step forward and chew these girls up. He held a hand out, stopping them. Bucky shot him a disbelieving look followed by an eye roll. Subtly he crossed his arms and flexed his muscles. Steve couldn’t blame either Sam or Bucky for reacting in this way, protecting him was an automatic response neither could shake off.

“I’m Steve. This is Sam and Bucky.” Steve pointed at himself and then at the two others before he trailed off, once more getting caught in the beauty of the young woman standing before him. She looked reluctant and cautious. The unsteady flicker of her eyes between all three of them clearly showed how uneasy she was to have met them in the middle of the forest in the dark, how distrusting she was of them. In Steve it only caused curiosity to sprout. What were they doing here this late?

“I’m Y/N. My sister's Natasha–” she pointed at the redhead, “–and Yelena,” then at the blonde she was shielding.

Only after she gave him a timid nod, he thought to elaborate. Swallowing, he mumbled, “We, uhm, we heard some noises and wanted to investigate when we came upon..”

Yelena, who he was sheepishly pointing at, cut him off, “When they scared the living daylights out of me. I thought they were wild animals trying to attack me.” Bucky snorted amused at that.

“There are no wild animals here. At least none that are dangerous. They don’t venture that close to the cabin or the village.”

“So we are close to a village?” Natasha spoke up, her voice sounding hopeful. Confused, Steve eyed the three girls closely, they looked exhausted and frozen. He noticed the way all three of them were trembling and shifting from one foot to the other. Y/N’s hands were shaking as she curled them into fists and unfurled them over and over again. She tried to hide it, shoving her hands behind her back after she caught him looking.

“You are lost, aren’t you?” he asked them, glancing up at her eyes once more. There was a spark in them, the brief flitting of a look that reminded him of a spooked and cornered animal. It was gone in the blink of an eye, so fast Steve thought he might have imagined it. What he didn’t imagine was the way she shifted and bit her lip, glancing back at her sisters.

Both Natasha and Yelena were tense, glancing at each other. They opened their mouths at the same time, forming the first letter of what Steve suspected would have been an unconvincing ‘no’ had Y/N not spoken up first.

“Yes,” she answered timidly, still not entirely sure if she could trust these three strange men, “We were on our way when our car broke down.”

“And you decided to walk aimlessly through the woods instead of calling a tow service or even a taxi?” Sam asked in utter disbelief. It was very cold up here, especially without the sun the temperatures quickly turned deadly. The three girls kept silent, pressing their lips together and furrowing their brows.

“You have a phone, do you?” Bucky asked them and the girls reacted the same way. “You don’t have a phone?” He asked once more, surprise evident on his face as they nodded.

“Could you point us to the village perhaps?” Natasha asked, clearly uncomfortable and done with the questioning.

“Sure. It’s another 4 miles in that direction.” Sam was very frank and dry in his answer, uncrossing his arms before his chest and pointing his finger deeper into the forest.

“Sam.” Steve chided, frowning at him. Neither Sam nor Bucky seemed concerned or apologetic about their blasé manner, Steve however didn’t feel right treating the girls that way. Sending them on their way back into the forest when it was only going to be darker and colder into the night even if the way to the village wasn’t that long left a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

While Natasha and Yelena turned around, ready to head back deeper into the forest, and Sam and Bucky also turned around to make the short track back to the property, Y/N and Steve remained motionless. Eyes on eyes, they hesitated. Steve wasn’t sure if it was his concern for their well-being or the pull of something else that was radiating between her and him. He didn’t want to let her go. Everything in him shouted to stop her and to have some more time together, get to know her.

What he couldn’t know, Y/N felt the same. She was intrigued by the blonde man with sparkling blue eyes, which when she looked into gave her the feeling of safety. It felt like she had known him for an eternity instead of less than thirty minutes.

Her mind had been running ever since they mentioned a phone. Before she had never thought about it but now the realization settled heavily in the pit of her stomach. They didn’t have a phone, they didn’t have money. They had nothing on them besides the clothes they were wearing. Even if they found the village, how were they supposed to pay for a room in an inn?

Steve sensed her hesitation on top of the pull and it seemed the others had by now too.

“Y/N?” Natasha asked, having turned back around.

“Nat, we don’t have any money with us. How are we supposed to pay for a room? For anything?” They couldn’t even get the car fixed and turn back around. They were stranded. Utterly screwed up. Natasha remained silent, looking directly at her older sister.

“Well, shit.”

“You don’t have anything with you?” Y/N looked back at Steve and hesitantly nodded. He wondered just who these girls were to be stranded this far out in the country, so close to the border, with nothing in their possession. Bucky and Sam’s eyes were practically burning into the back of his head, both of them knowing exactly what Steve was about to do but neither agreeing in the slightest.

Before he could speak up, he was pulled back by his neck. Bucky looked at him furiously, before he turned to the girls. “Give us a moment,” he told them gruffly pulling Steve further backward. A short distance away from them they huddled together.

“You can’t be offering what I think you’ll be,” Sam spoke up first.

“Yeah punk. We don’t know them. It’s not safe.”

“What if they are unhinged hitchhiker killers? Or assassins sent by the North? Repay a debt or some of that crap?”

Steve looked back at the girls. They were standing huddled together, rubbing and blowing on their hands for warmth. He could still see them trembling, even from afar. They didn’t look like killers to him, they looked like three lost girls who desperately needed a warm place and some kind strangers to help them. His and Y/N’s eyes met as she glanced up. There was that pull again, only furthering his sure feeling that they weren't a danger.

“Look at them, Buck. They are cold and you heard them. They have nowhere to stay. We can’t let them wander in the cold throughout the night. They'd be dead before they reach the town.”

Bucky groaned loudly, “Fine punk. But they stay downstairs in the wing furthest away from your room. One of us takes the room before you and the other the room in front of the stairs at the beginning of the hallway.” Steve could live with these conditions.

“And tomorrow morning we’ll drive them into the town and get them a hotel room,” Sam added. Steve was fine with that too and if he secretly planned to use his rank to meddle with it, then they didn’t need to know it.

For now, he turned around and strode over to the three girls. They turned towards him, three pairs of eyes curiously looking up at him, one of those which lit a fire in his stomach and made his heart do backflips.

“We are staying in a cabin just at the edge of the forest. It’s much closer than the village and we don’t charge anything. So if you’d like, you can stay the night and we’ll show you the way to the village in the morning. Work something out?”

They looked at each other, eyes jumping back and forth, brows and mouths furrowing and curling. It reminded Steve of the silent conversations he would have with Bucky when they were in meetings or during formal functions. As Y/N turned back towards him, he held his breath in anticipation.

“We’d like to. Thank you.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #my kingdom your kingdom #king!steve x heir apparent!reader #royalty au #modern royalty au #christmas au

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angelasscribbles · 1 year

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Heir Apparent Chapter 20: Asked and Answered

Series: Heir Apparent.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Liam x Riley (past)

Rating: R

Warnings: Mature themes, language

Word count: 1,625

A/N: Every time I think I know where this is heading and how it's going to end, I'm wrong. The characters keep doing their own thing. Half the time I'm surprised when I'm in the middle of writing what I wanted to happen and suddenly something else comes out. Anyway, I already know some of you are going to yell at Liam lol. Sorry/not sorry. I can't help it, I apparently can't control my own damn characters.

Everything else: Master List.

“Whatever it is, just spit it out already!” Riley was unable to take the frustration and suspense any longer.

Her husband had been acting squirely ever since the press conference. He was clearly agitated about something, but he wasn’t forthcoming with details of whatever it was.

“I thought we agreed we were telling each other everything from now on,” she reminded him.

Drake ran a hand nervously through his hair as he took in her demeanor, hand on her hip, a frown on her face, worry in her eyes.

He had to ask her, right? If for no other reason than to settle the whole thing once and for all.

“Yeah, okay, right,” he gestured to the cream-colored loveseat in the middle of the sitting room, inviting her to sit.

She took a seat and looked up at him expectantly, “Well?”

“Well…I…” he took a moment to quell the shaking in his hand as he drew in a fortifying breath, and took the seat next to her. Taking her hand in his, he decided to just spit out quickly, “I just wanted to know if you…if you wanted a Cordonian Arrangement.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s an addition to the marriage vows, basically a formal agreement opening the marriage-“

She pulled her hand out of his and her body jerked away from him as hurt and anger bubbled up in her heart, “You want to see other people?”

“What? No!” panic swept through him as he tried to explain, “It’s not for me, it’s for you!”

“What do you mean? You’re not making any sense! You want me to see other people?”

“Only if you want to…”

She stared at him as shock and confusion swam through her, “I don’t understand, Drake, why would you think I wanted to see anyone else?”

“Not just anyone, Riley…this would be a way for you to maintain a relationship with Liam….if you wanted to...” he trailed off, sighing with defeat.

“I don’t! Why would you think-“ she stopped midsentence as the answer presented itself to her, “Fucking Liam! This was his idea, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but-“

“But what, Drake?” She sprang to her feet and stalked away from him, “Are you seriously trying to pimp me out to your best friend right now? Is that what’s happening?”

“No! God…no! This isn’t what I want, but if it’s what you want then-“

“Then what?” She whirled on him, fury blazing from her eyes, “You’d be okay with sharing me with him?”

“No!” He leapt out of his seat as a maelstrom of emotions exploded in his chest, “I told you, this isn’t what I want! But Liam said-“

She made her way back to him with record speed, “I don’t care what Liam said, Drake! You’re my husband, not Liam!”

“I know that Riley but-“

Face red and shaking with fury, she yelled, “I know I fucked up in Vegas, Drake and I’m sorry! I don’t know how many more ways I can make that clear to you! When are you going to stop punishing me for it?”

“Punishing you?” His mouth fell open incredulously, “No, I’m not! That’s not what this…how the hell would letting you continue to sleep with Liam be me punishing you?”

She drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself as she realized he was being serious and forthright, not snarky or sarcastic, “Because, Drake….the fact that you really thought I would want this…that I would say yes to it hurts me!”

“I….” he raked a hand through his hair as relief crashed through him, “it does?”

“Fuck, Drake, yes!” tears spilled down her face, “of course it does!”

He reached for her and drew her into his arms, “Baby, why are you crying?”

“Because it’s my own damn fault that you think that!”

“I’m sorry, please don’t cry. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

She hiccupped a little as she drew away from him, “Oh, I don’t. Not for this! I’m blaming Liam for this!”

“He was just-“

“Just what, Drake? Just putting doubts in your head? After everything we’ve overcome? It’s not okay!”

“I really don’t think he meant-“

“Are you defending him?”

“Um…” he took in the fury in her eyes, “….no…”

She picked up her phone and started dialing.

“Riley, are you sure you should do this right now? Maybe you should-“

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!”

“I wasn’t!”

He absolutely had been.

When Liam answered she barely gave him a chance to say hello, “Did you tell my husband to ask for a Cordonian Arrangement?”

“Uh…” in his private office, Liam gestured for the press secretary to leave and give him some privacy.

“Well?” Riley demanded, “Did you?”

As soon as he was alone, Liam leaned back in his chair with a defeated sigh, “I take it by the tone of your voice that the answer is no.”

“Of course, the answer is no, Liam! I thought we’d made a breakthrough in therapy last week! How could you possibly think any of us are ready for something like that? Huh? Drake and I are trying to put our lives back together and I need to focus on the baby right now!”

The sinking disappointment in his chest made a U-turn. He cleared his throat and sat upright, “I apologize, Riley. You’re absolutely right. We did make a breakthrough and I heard you.”

You said you still loved me.

“Okay, good,” she was mollified a little. “If you care about my happiness, or his, please back off and stop this.”

“Absolutely. I promise!” I promise to back off for now.

She said none of them were ready for such a step, not that such a step would never be possible. She said she needed to focus on the baby for now, not that their relationship, such as it was, would never be on the table for discussion.

He was a patient man. Time was on his side. She wasn’t going anywhere. They were going to be coparenting for a long time.

He realized that what he wanted might never happen, but he was all about calculated risk.

It wasn’t even that he wanted to have sex with her again. Of course, he did, but that wasn’t really the point. Sex was easy enough to come by.

He wanted her love. If that took the form of a deep and close friendship, he would settle for that.

He wanted her to trust him again. He wanted her to like him again. He wanted to be a part of her life again. A real part, not just someone on the periphery, an outsider looking in.

He wanted to be a part of his child’s life, a real part, not just a weekend father or an obligation, an amorphous authority figure to please like his own father had been.

To have a good relationship with his child, he had to have a good relationship with the child’s mother. That was common sense.

Riley seemed to think he was an impediment to her marriage and that was the opposite of what he’d been trying to do.

With sudden clarity he realized that the only way to accomplish both of his goals was to repair his relationship with Drake.

Not that he didn’t want to do that for the sake of their lifelong friendship anyway. It was just difficult overcoming all the emotional obstacles that lay in their path.

But just as he knew he needed to repair things with Riley in order to have the best relationship possible with his child, he realized that he needed to repair things with Drake if he had any hope of salvaging anything from the wreckage of what was left of his relationship with the woman he loved.

What a tangled mess the three of them had made.

He supposed he had Drake to thank for her staying in Cordonia so there was that. Of course, if not for Drake she would be married to him right now, by her own admission.

Not happily, though. He had to remind himself of the other part of their conversation.

She still resented him for what had transpired on coronation night and in the days and weeks following.

Of course she had fallen in love with the man that has swooped in and rescued her, the one that had been there for her, the one that could, and had, claimed her publicly. The one that had literally taken a bullet for her.

Drake had been willing to die to protect her, and he almost had.

Liam would have been willing to throw himself in front of a bullet for her, but he knew he’d never have been allowed to. Security would have tackled him to the ground before he could have moved.

The same moment Drake had been saving Riley’s life, Liam had been drug from the dais and pulled out the door of the ballroom.

As these thoughts poured through his head, he had an epiphany. He had made the right decision not to marry at all regardless of if Riley ever consented to enter into an extramarital relationship with him or not because he simply had nothing to offer a potential wife other than the danger that came with the crown.

Riley was right. He would never be able to put her, or any woman for that matter, first. Cordonia was a harsh mistress and she demanded everything from him.

His jaw set as he determined that the same would not happen to his child. He would make sure of it. And he would make it up to Riley somehow, even if it took the rest of his life to do so.

#heir apparent #angelasscribbles #drake x riley #liam x riley #the royal heir #the royal romance #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #complicated au #the royal heir au #liam rys #drake walker #riley brooks #trr au #the royal romannce #trr #trr/trh

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onedivinemisfit · 2 years

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Mother of the infant king-to-be~

Or more baby Abi, since he’s such a hit! :3

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata

Art: Me

#akagami no shirayukihime #ans #snow white with the red hair #shirayuki #obiyuki #myart #royal obi au #in which shirayuki is forced to go to his kingdom #bc her son is heir-apparent #to a so-called divine throne #bb abi just sleepy

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hanakihan · 10 months

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I’m this close to brainrot about mix of Kusuriya no Hitorigoto and Wataru no Shiawase no Kekkon AUs for chulwoo feat. Girls being true MVPs along the way, political games, harshness of world and society and ultimate slowburn—

#solo leveling #woo jin chul #sung jin woo #haein esil and joohee being absolute MVPs in this AU #they carry the plot #there gonna be a scene of jichul pretending to be haein for plan purposes #people notice the similarities and they’re suspicious #jinwoo is having too much fun for someone who’s head is this close 🤌🏻 to be rolling on ground #gunhee just wants his adopted son to be happy and safe #because apparently he was traumatized enough in childhood #gunhee plans political revolution against current ruling family #he doesn’t want to use jinchul as a fake pretender for previous dynasty’s heir #ha I tricked you there’s also Anastasia and no one saw jicnhul actually being last member of previous ruling dynasty #he and haein are distant relatives so they both are of noble blood but he’s direct one #initial plan was to make haein an empress after political revolution #it’s literally our characters playing palace politics while planning a revolution and trying not to die in process #jinchul honestly wants to cry because his army career got cancelled and he was forcefully sent as an unwanted servant into Sung household #yes to be a servant to that one cold and cruel general #jinwoo almost murdered him on first day #what a perfect starting point for a romance

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goponylover · 4 months

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Something You Should Know Page 2 Prev / Next

#tma au #the magnus archives au #heir apparent au #tma #tma oc #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #monster jon #martin blackwood #lonely avatar martin blackwood #jonmartin #trans jonathan sims #indrani sims #my art #oc kid

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goggles-mcgee · 6 months

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Phantom Fudge

I love the fics of Danny settling into Gotham and having some sort of business and just absolutely confusing the Batfam with how flippant he is about the crime.

My take is, instead of a coffee shop or bookstore or occult shop, Danny opens a fudge shop!

His parents taught him, and he found he actually really loved it, and besides, his dream of being an astronaut was out of reach due to his unique medical readings. In this au, his parents learned about him being Phantom and took it well after a good period of spiraling because-Holy shit they shot their son. You may be asking, Goggles, didn't you just make a post that was all about Jack and Maddie not taking the news well? Yes. Yes, I did.

I go back and forth with wanting to salt them and not. I like both.

So anyways, Danny is the heir to the Ghost Throne, but he won't actually take up the official title until his time on Earth is naturally over. After everything got better with his parents and his regular ghost fighting buddies, he actually was able to raise his grades and graduate. Many teachers were amazed at the progress but really, Danny may not have been as smart as his parents and sister (he is an unreliable narrator and is actually very smart just not as conventional as his family) but before his accident he had done pretty good in school. The GIW was still a thing, but without the Fenton technology, they weren't doing as well as they previously did. His parents broke their contract after they rescued him from the GIW labs, it was a little after he told his parents about his halfa status and they came storming in to save him and all the other ghosts that were captured. After that, life got so much better. His parents listened to him, and he got to teach them all about his people. They started publishing more papers with actually accurate information and were doing their best to overturn the anti-ecto acts. They haven't accomplished it, but Danny was sure they would.

That's actually why he moved to Gotham. Tucker had the idea of contacting the Justice League to help with the anti-ecto laws, but their calls weren't being answered. Neither were the...strongly worded emails Sam sent in. So Danny did what he did best and jumped into something not entirely thought out but hoping for the best. He moved to Gotham so he could get close to Batman and ask for help. He got accepted into Gotham University on a scholarship. But he wanted to make some money on his own without his parents sending him some kind of allowance, and he didn't want to work at Bat Burger. He started selling fudge around winter at his school, and he got permission to do so.

From there, he got enough money to actually open a small fudge cart. Then he got enough for a small shop near his apartment which was rather close to Crim Alley so he hired some working girls to help with the shop and he employed any Alley Kids looking for some cash as delivery workers. (They only delivered in Crime Alley, though, but that was fine with Danny.) Danny loved his little fudge shop that he lovingly named Phantom Fudge, and the sign had a cute little ghost eating some fudge on it. When he was in school for classes, he left the shop in his friend Ginger's hands. She had been a working girl before, but before that, she had had experience working a small mom & pop kind of shop, so Danny felt good leaving her in charge. When Ellie visited, she helped out with the shop too.

Danny was thriving. Then he started getting customers of the ecto variety because, of course, he would. Apparently, he was something of an ecto filter for the shades and ghost of Gotham, so they would visit his shop to soak up some of the pure ectoplasm in the air. Then he experimented and made some ecto-fudge, which is what he gave to any ecto beings that entered his shop. Most couldn't pay, but they would give him a heads up if they saw anything shady happening around his shop.

Like a little heads up that some robberies were happening in the area, or some rogue was getting close. It was a nice little system they had. Though some ghosts came in just to tell him their unfinished business and like...he wasn’t King yet, but these were his people, so he tried to help them out as best they could.

One particular couple showed up a lot and would ask him to help warn their son of any danger they heard was brewing. They would ask him to leave messages for the son or any of his kids but also the butler if needed. Danby thought this guy had some great parents. They didn't cross over because they needed to make sure their son was safe and taken care of. It was most likely that they wouldn't cross until their son did by the sounds of it. He got permission to call them Grandma and Grandpa, which was weird, but he didn't question it.

Martha and Thomas were nice spirits, so he had no problem helping them out. But Danny is Danny and his well-intentioned help of course caught the eye of the whole batfam.

They had been receiving letters in the Manor that appeared mysteriously. The first one they had all thought was a prank from the many people there. It was a simple, 'Don’t go to the gala. Something bad will happen.' That started it all. They were all baffled but laughed it off, and those who went to the gala didn't know how to feel when the seeming wait staff took over the event and held the guests hostage.

A coincidence surely.

Then they got another note, 'Freeze is planning to do a B&E and snatch some equipment from a Wayne lab. Idk which one since you have so many.' And just like last time, the note was speaking the truth. It continued from there, and everyone tried to capture whoever or whatever was leaving the notes, but any cameras they had glitched out before returning to normal and showing a new note had showed uo somewhere in the Manor. Bruce was going crazy trying to figure out who or what their messenger was.

Alfred once found a note that said, 'Tim has been awake and pushing himself too far. He is going to crash.' He took it to heart though and made Tim rest and take a break. He would not let the note happen. Tim had had far too many crashes the past couple of months.

The note that broke Bruce, though, was small in words, but it made him feel crazy. It was his parent's death anniversary, and when he went to visit the exact spot, he saw a sticky note on the floor. He shakily picked it up to see all it said was, 'It's okay.'

Now he is really worked up and determined to find the note messenger.

While that's going on, Danny also gets some local vigilantes visiting his shop, and he is so excited to see them and try and be their friend so he can ask for help. Plus they seem to be fans of his fudge and that just makes him happy.

The batkids thing the Phantom Fudge shop owner is suspicious, but hot damn did he make some bomb ass fudge.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp au #dc x dp ficlet

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ssinboo · 6 months

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Say Yes to me

summary: You've been in love with Jeon Wonwoo since forever, and due to your family relations, you had hopes you'd marry him. Your only problem? he's getting engagement to someone else.

During his Engagement party, your childhood best friend and love of your life, Jeon Wonwoo, asks you to run away with him.

pairing: 1960s!AU - Childhood bestfriend! Wonwoo x F!Reader

word count: 10k (45~ minute read) – My longest ever!

warnings: unrequited crushes and overall foolishness, idiots in love, best friends to lovers to not lovers to lovers again, some angst?, Wonwoo is such a nerd, making out in dingy motels, unrealistic mileage for gasoline, seokmin being the sweetest

a/n: This will most certainly be my last fic of the year! So, Happy Holidays everyone! This year has been so troublesome, but I've grown so much and written a lot more, too! I'm so, so grateful for everyone I've met and everyone that's enjoyed my stuff! See you in 2024!

Had you been questioned, there would never be a concrete answer to the question of just how long you had been in love with Jeon Wonwoo.

You’d know him forever, and maybe you loved him all along.

Your families were business partners turned friends. And there had always been talk of marriage between the children. Of course, for convenience. The Jeon’s produced top-class racing and sports cars, while your family were in the chemical business, specialising in industry paints and finishes, it was only natural to unite the two families and profit.

Although your wealth was vast, it was nothing compared to the Jeon’s, despite always having the chance to frequent the same environments, you often found you were on different levels altogether.

Jeon Wonwoo was the eldest son, and he carried himself as such — with all the poise and arrogance of the heir to a global conglomerate. He liked golfing and late night swims. Always took his coffee black with no sugar, and barely had anything for breakfast, preferring a hearty lunch instead.

His younger brother, Lee Seokmin, was the result of an affair with a secretary, though that did not mean he was loved any less, no. Seokmin lacked a single mean bone in his body, he had a pure heart and a contagious laugh.

They were by all means what people liked to call Irish Twins, born less than a year apart. And the nature of that fact only made their differences more apparent. Complete opposites they were, and that extended to how they treated you, too.

Every summer growing up, your family would travel to the country house and you and your sister would spend the better part of the months at the club. Oh, how you loved the country club with the fun summer activities the clear chlorinated water, having a meal under the pool umbrellas and getting funny tan lines.

But most of all, you enjoyed Jeon Wonwoo.

His family frequented the same club and every summer, you’d be practically glued to Wonwoo, even if he didn’t dare to pay you any attention.

You were only three years apart, yet he acted as if you were an immature brat. Seokmin had always been happy to play with you and your sister, though.

More often than not, Wonwoo would lounge by the pool with a book, never daring to go in. And you would cross your arms over tile by the sides and try your damnedest to strike a conversation with him. He would ignore your every word, or worse, poke fun at your latest obsession.

“Wonwoo, at what time where you born?” You ask, spitting out any chlorine filled water off your mouth.

He arches an eyebrow, looking up from his book.

“What?”

“What time were you born?” You repeat, unbothered by his acidic tone.

“Why would I know that?”

“Can’t you ask your mum?”

He rolls his eyes, “Why do you wanna know?”

“So I can see your birth chart,” You shrug, twirling a wet strand of hair around your finger.

“The fuck is a birth chart?”

“It’s like… It’s a way to see your personality… And I can check to see if we’re compatible.”

“That’s stupid…” He rolls his eyes, again, “You’re stupid.”

You scoff, “You won’t play along— You’re such a bore!” You yell out and dive back in the pool, leaving behind a cackling Wonwoo.

Those hapless summer days were spent lazing by the pool with your sister and Seokmin — without a care in the world, laughing about nothing. With the isolated water-balloon fight every now and then.

You’d grown up before you could realise it, never truly leaving behind your childish crush on Wonwoo. Even if by the age hierarchy, you had no chance of marrying him — Your sister were to marry Wonwoo and you possibly married Seokmin.

Though you held hope, it crumbled away with every passing minute.

But that year, your sister had the greatest early birthday present: She’d found the man she was to marry and best of all, your daddy could never say no to his girls.

With your sister marrying the love of her life, it meant that you would marry Wonwoo, right? It was only a matter of time and you would be sworn to each other before God, your friends, and family. And your first love would blossom.

On your 21st birthday, your father took you to work with him for the day, though you most lazed around and answered his calls. You only expected to have lunch for your birthday and a party on the weekend.

At noon, he drove to the Jeon’s factory to deliver the new paint samples.

The workers, most of whom had watched you, your sister and the Jeon kids grow up, greet you excitedly and some even wish you happy birthday. Your father goes straight to the floor to speak to the manager.

Unexpectedly, Mr. Jeon himself shows up.

Mr. Jeon was a handsome old man a captivating smile, he was incredibly passionate about his work and adored mechanics, but he loved his sons above all — And he had great expectations for his boys.

He greets you with a warm hug and wishes you a happy birthday before discussing business with your father. To which you busy yourself with staring at the pieces waiting for a coat of paint.

“Hey, baby, why don’t you come with us to the patio?” Your father calls and you oblige, skipping toward the two men.

The patio is where they stored their models waiting to be shipped out to agencies or sometimes, for the higher profile clients, directly to the customer. You look at the new line to be launched next winter: sleek and modern with leather seats and wooden accents on the interior. You could never criticise the Jeon’s for their taste, they knew their stuff.

“Come here, baby,” Your father waves his hands, “What do you think of this car?”

You study the convertible in a bright red with a cream leather interior; a classic.

“It’s gorgeous, daddy, when are they launching it?”

“It should be out next year, but what do you think of the colour?”

“I like it,” You nod enthusiastically.

“That’s great baby, why don’t you read up on this model?” He hands you a tiny card, common in the factory, that has the model and batch number, as well as the signature from the supervisor. But just underneath the model, you see the colour name: your name.

As you look at your father, completely astonished, he just lets out a warm laugh and opens his arms for a hug.

“You named a shade after me?!” You glue yourself to him, still in shock.

“Happy birthday, princess.”

“Thank you, daddy, you’re the best!”

“That’s your dad’s present, how about you open mine, now?” Mr. Jeon interjects, waving a tiny jewelry box in the air.

You fix your hair and take it from his hand, expecting maybe a ring, or earrings.

But you find brand new car keys.

Mouth agape, you look at him while your father can only laugh at your surprised expression.

“Why don’t you give it a spin?” Mr. Jeon encourages, rushing you toward the convertible.

And though your father is beside himself with worry for you driving during rush hour, he settles for sitting in the passenger’s seat and doing some good old backseat driving, even though you barely make it past 30.

You drive around the block and return to the factory before your father has an anxiety attack over your driving.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Jeon! When did you even do this?! I had no idea!”

“Wonwoo oversaw the whole thing, he’s the one you should thank,” He laughs it off, but your heart can only skip a beat at the mention of your beloved’s name. Especially thinking he was the one to take care of such a great gift.

Wonwoo loved mechanics as much as his dad, sometimes even more. He even went to a good college for it, coming back even smarter than before — and much sassier, too. He never stopped doing manual work in the factory, guaranteeing every car made was up to the Jeon standard.

And you were very biased toward his mechanic abilities, especially when he would furrow his brow, glasses perched on the very tip of his nose; he would wipe off sweat off his forehead with his grease covered arm.

You remember to this day the last time your father came to discuss swatches and you stopped by the shop. Watching Wonwoo work on an older model with a leaky oil tank.

He did everything himself, changed the tank perched under the car, soldering a brand new one. He also did a once over on anything else that could become a problem in the future, any filters needing change, checking wires and gears, making sure the oil was fresh. The problem came with the lights. He had such a hard time wiggling his thick arms through the machinery to reach the right spot, and you watched very intently how his triceps flexed, deep green veins bulging under his skin.

Wonwoo had gotten so frustrated he’d shed off the top part of his coveralls, sporting a white undershirt so tight you could basically tell the shape of his sweat-clad torso. Oh, how you’d hoped he never got that bulb in place.

“Come’ere,” Wonwoo calls out without further ado.

“Why?”

“Need your help,” He mumbles under a sigh.

You rise from the barrel you were sitting on and approach the open hood. “With what?”

“Getting this fuckin’ bulb in place,” He hands you the tiny light bulb.

“Where do I need to put it?”

“See— in between this part, need to shove you hand until you reach back here in the light, then you just screw it in.”

“What if I get stuck?”

“You won’t, you’re so petite,” He smirks.

You scoff, “Shut up.”

Leaning over the hood, you place your left hand on the chassis to steady yourself and shove your right hand in between gears and machinery, trying to find the spot he mentioned.

“I can’t find it,” You complain.

“Keep trying.”

“I am!”

“Here, deeper—“ He reaches for you, one hand on your waist and another on your arm, forcing you toward the place.

You’re way too focused on finding the damn spot for the light, that you barely notice the proximity at all.

“Can’t find it!”

“Right, right— My right.”

“It’s the same freakin’ right, you idiot,” You hiss.

He laughs, “Fine, our right,” you groan at his stupid joke, “It should be there, try to bring it closer to you.”

“Found it!” You squeal with a smile, screwing the bulb in its place.

“Atta girl,” Wonwoo smiles.

“There!” With a relieved sigh, you finally free your grease-clad hand from the machinery, slightly cringing at the black covering your fingernails — It’d be such a bother to clean it up.

When you finally lean back, you stumble onto Wonwoo’s firm chest. Lucky for you, he catches you, steady hold at your waist. You’re finally aware of his proximity, to which he only smiles.

Looking down at where his warm, tauntingly large hands meet your waist, you’re suddenly filled with nothing but rage. ‘

“You got grease all over my dress!” You whine, looking at the perfectly stamped print of his hand over your brand new summer dress.

He only laughs, “Looks better this way, trust me.”

“Ugh!” You groan, stomping toward the washing area where they kept clean rugs.

He closes the hood with a loud thump that echoes through the shop and slides into the driver’s seat. The car comes alive with a loud hum and ta-da! The headlight works.

You are a little proud of your work, yes. But it’s not like you’ll show it.

“Do you not anything clean in here?!” You complain, eyeing the pile of grease-covered rags thrown in a corner. That had to be a fire hazard.

“What?” Wonwoo shouts over the running engine.

You huff and stomp your way back to the car, throwing open the driver’s door. “I have a formal dinner to go to,” You state, leaning over the door.

“Okay, then go.”

Rolling your eyes, you hold back any possible insults, “Like this?” You gesture toward your otherwise perfectly fine dress.

He holds back a little mischievous smile, “I have some clean clothes in the office.”

Wide eyes, mouth hanging agape, you stare at him dumbfound, “I hope that’s a joke, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He laughs, genuinely. That sweet, deep, dorky laugh of his that reverberates through his chest and plunges straight into your heart.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

As much as he did tease you, Wonwoo never made short on his promises.

“Is he around?” You ask Mr. Jeon, trying your best to suppress any expectations.

“Oh, he had some business… But he wished you a happy birthday.”

Your smile falters before your catch it, forcing the corners of your lips into a beautiful, rehearsed smile. “Let him know I’m grateful. For the wishes and for the amazing present.”

It would soon be Wonwoo’s birthday and you had been preparing for what felt like ages. You got him a really nice set of electric work tools since he complained often about how the shop’s tools were always malfunctioning. But you did feel somewhat bad about only getting him a gift relating to work on what should be a day about him.

So you caved in and got him a gorgeous wrist watch with classy black leather straps; on the underside you had his name inscribed with a heart. — You actually hadn’t planned for the heart, but the jeweller got confused in between so many orders and it was too close to the date to have it re-done. You hoped you could play it off in a cool manner, maybe he would laugh at your story.

The party would be held the eve of his actual birthday, and you arrived at the venue with hours to spare. Your father and sister are by the entrance, speaking to Mr. Jeon, you greet them.

“Hi, Mr. Jeon! Where should I put the gifts?”

“Oh—“ Surprised, he looks at your father, “You’ve brought gifts—“ He seems… surprised? As if it were so weird to bring presents to a birthday party. “Uh— I’m not sure, let me check with my wife where you could place those.”

You father nervously sips on his champagne, avoiding your sister’s burning looks.

“You haven’t told her,” Your sister turns to your father, “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Tell me what?” You ask.

“Honey… This isn’t Wonwoo’s birthday party…” Your father speaks very slowly, gauging for your reaction at his every word.

Eyebrows raised, you question, “What do you mean?”

“It’s an engagement party, he’s getting engaged to Suzy,” Your sister rips the band-aid off.

And you feel the air being sucked out of your lungs at once, an agonising knot pulls at your throat and your nose stings with the threat of tears. The shopping bags fall from your hands and you fight off the urge to bawl your eyes out.

Before you actually do cry your eyes out, you rush outside.

“Baby—“ Your father calls but you just storm off, not wanting to be near anyone.

Engaged? Engaged!

Engaged…

Wonwoo was getting fucking engaged.

With a bitch named Suzy who had the prettiest hair you’d ever seen and knew how to talk to investors and could speak a thousand languages. And worst of all, she was the kindest, sweetest girl ever. You couldn’t even hate her!

You weren’t even allowed that! As much as you weren’t allowed a simple heads up. How hard was it to tell you beforehand “Hey, the guy you’ve loved your entirely life is getting married to some girl and you just brought lemon pies to his engagement party, thought you’d want to know.”

Maybe you should’ve taken the pies with you, at least you’d have some comfort.

You know what, what the fuck. Why didn’t Wonwoo tell you anything?! It had been barely a couple of days since you saw each other, why couldn’t he tell you? Were you not even worthy of that?

Like having known each other your entire lives doesn’t make you worthy of such ”wonderful” news? How hard is it to tell someone in passing that you’re getting engaged! And now, you’re supposed to smile all night and pretend like your guts aren’t festering in rage and melancholy and your blood doesn’t run cold at the mere thought of Wonwoo walking down the aisle.

Giving it a second thought, maybe it wasn’t set in stone yet.

It’s the modern times and even back in your parents’ days, engagements were broken off all the time! He might not marry Suzy. You might have a chance.

Maybe you could ask— no, you could plead with your father to tell Mr. Jeon to think it all over. Wonwoo is still young, it’s not time to settle down just yet. He wanted to study abroad, he talked about the automobile industry in Europe with such amaze, and if that took a little longer, maybe Suzy would get tired of waiting?

Who were you fooling? You should’ve seen it coming.

Of course, he wouldn’t have married you, what were you thinking?!

He’s the Jeon’s precious firstborn and you’re… someone who can’t even tell apart the sizing in wrenches — To top it all off, Suzy was notably great with mechanics.

You really wish you had those pies with you, it would make your salty tears a little sweeter.

By the time you’re done sobbing in your car, you look a hot mess with runny make-up and swollen eyes. With a sigh, you pull out your purse and muster up any cosmetics that can save you for tonight.

You could cry all you wanted at home, but right now, you needed to look pretty and have your pictures taken.

By the time you return, the party is to start and guests are gathering at the front, your sister immediately rushes to your side.

“Are you okay?” she whispers, soft hands reaching for yours.

Forcing out a smile, “Of course! Who do you think I am?”

By the look on her face, you know she doesn’t trust your words not one bit, but will not pry at your emotions any further. At least not for tonight, you’re sure tomorrow she will grill you about this. But for now, you put on a bright smile and greet all the guests.

From the Jeon’s, Seokmin is the third to arrive, missing only by the birthday boy himself. But he immediately greets his parents and comes to greet your family.

“Hey!” You smile, putting aside your glass of champagne so you can hug him properly.

“How you doin’?” He asks, gorgeous smile on display.

“I’m— Well—“

“They’ve told you then—“

You press your lipstick coloured lips into a thin line, “Yeah,” You nod.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” You shrug, “I’m happy, Suzy is… a—“ Nice words. Nice words. “—wonderful girl.”

Seokmin offers you a sweet smile. “Let’s hope she can handle his tantrums,” he nudges at your arm.

“Oh, please!” You laugh.

Wonwoo was known for sometimes having a bit of a short temper, not often, by any means and maybe that’s what made them so memorable. Like the one time he couldn’t finish a puzzle during game night, so he gathered all the pieces and set the ablaze in the backyard.

“Or—“ A waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne and he so kindly grabs two glasses, offering you one. “Listen to this— He gets to the church, covered in grease from head to toe.”

You laugh at the thought. Gods, how many times has Wonwoo decided to work on an engine while wearing his most expensive outfit? His mother nearly had a fit every time he would show up dishevelled and smelling like motor oil pretending like nothing’s wrong.

“Please,” You sip at your drink, “I bet he’s gonna be all greased up tonight.”

Seokmin laughs wholeheartedly. He was the sort of guy to never hold back a fit of giggles no matter how inappropriate it may be, and it was certainly refreshing to know someone genuinely found your company enjoyable.

“For sure, I think her parents will freak out.”

You nod.

Tapping at your glass, you hesitate the following words, “Guess we’ll be the ones getting married for the family, then…”

You didn’t hate Seokmin, far from it. You loved him to bits— Not like Wonwoo, of course, you believed you would never love a man like you loved Wonwoo, ever again.

He was funny, and such a gentleman. Not to mention, handsome, too. If you weren’t hopelessly in love with his brother, he would’ve been the perfect husband of your dreams. But he did deserve better than a wife who could never give him what he deserves.

“Sorry about that,” Seokmin comforts you and that only makes your nose sting with the threat of more tears.

“Stooop!” You whine in a shaky voice and he’s overcome with worry.

“Hey— What’s wrong—?”

“Don’t be so sweet— I’m emotional tonight—“ You laugh at your emotional state, despite the teary-eyes.

“Are you a crybaby tonight?”

You nod, fanning your eyes in the hope of drying your tears before they can wash away your makeup.

Seokmin smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and you lean against his chest, fighting the urge to cry.

It’s only when you’re certain you won’t bawl your eyes out, that you respond. “It’s not that I hate you, you know I love you, but… You deserve someone that will love you like a husband.”

He nods, “I know— But it might not be so bad, we’re friends! We’ll have sleepovers every day, and we’ll have Italian every night, we’ll watch those silly movies you like…” Seokmin lists off all the things you would do in your very platonic marriage and it doesn’t sound so bad.

He knew exactly how you felt, he loved you, of course he did, you were so precious in his eyes, but not like a lover.

You pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “Are you gonna let me choose your clothes?”

Seokmin sighs. You hated his questionable fashion since forever and in only very rare occasions did he accept your input, any other time and he assaulted your spirit with clashing patterns and silly shoes.

“Fine—!”

You smile brightly, properly comforted.

Before you can tease him any further, you spot Wonwoo entering the venue. Although he is immediately swarmed with congratulatory words, his shy nature makes it so his only response is always an awkward smile.

He immediately spots you among the crowd.

You breathe in. In that moment, despite knowing he was sworn to another, that did not stop your heart from fluttering at the sight of him, his broad shoulders and the crooked tie he clearly put on a rush.

“Congrats, bro!” Seokmin is the first one to greet him, not letting go of your shoulder but instead pulling Wonwoo into a semi-hug.

“Seokmin…” Wonwoo eyes his brother and then you, and then his brother again.

“Congrats, Nonu,” You smile, letting go of Seokmin’s comfort to reach for a hug.

Wonwoo smiles, letting you cling onto his neck, your citric perfume seeping into his clothes and body.

Oh, how his warmth could never compare to another. How you craved his affection like no other.

“Thanks— Uh, did you bring me anything?” He asks in a teasing tone.

“Ey— Nonu!” Seokmin scolds his brother.

“How did you know I brought you something?” You giggle, pulling away from the hug.

Wonwoo shrugs.

You reach for his crooked tie, straightening it to the best of your abilities. “I brought it earlier, but I think your mum took it to the back room,” You explain, focused on the tie.

He, however is focused on your concentrated face, parted red lips and furrowed brows. The proximity that lets him almost feel your chest pressed against his, as if extending the hug.

“However, you, mister, have to greet your guests!” You scold, setting his tie in place.

Seokmin joins in, once again throwing his arm around your shoulder. “That’s right, mum already gave me an earful about how late you were— And I got here on time!”

“Yeah— Yeah— You’re right,” Wonwoo nods.

“Liquid courage?” You offer your half-drunk glass of champagne and he downs it in one go.

You and Seokmin goof around a little more and gossip about certain guests behind their backs. Dinner is served and you all sit down to eat, Seokmin insists you sit beside him, which just so happens to also be next to Wonwoo. And you thank him for indulging you one last time.

Wonwoo is mostly quiet, but you were used to him not being rather fond of public parties, especially when all of the attention is on him. On his other side, sits Suzy, the blushing bride-to-be. She tries to make conversation with Wonwoo, though most of it falls flat, he only ever gives her monosyllabic answers and rarely contributes to discussions.

That is until Mr. and Mrs. Jeon stand up, tapping forks to their glasses to call for everyone’s attention. The room quiets down instantly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending our little gathering tonight,” Mr Jeon greets the guests. “We have some wonderful news we would like to share with you all.”

“My beautiful son, how proud I am of you,” He adds, “Every day I am amazed at your intellect. Often, I question just where did you get those smarts!”

Everyone laughs.

“You have grown into a fine man, and I can’t take credit for any of it. You are the most mature, talented, and intelligent boy and you did it all by yourself— ”

You can watch how Wonwoo’s eyes gloss over with tears.

“I’m growing old, you know. And every father wants the guarantee that his children will be taken care of… That’s why I’m so relieved and happy to announce that my worries will soon be gone—“ He laughs but his son’s smile falters, “I’d like to announce the engagement of my son, Wonwoo, to this beautiful young lady named Suzanne. Welcome to the family, Suzy.”

He raises his glass and soon, the room fills with uproar. Everyone claps and you join in, smiling toward Mr. Jeon and Suzy. She stands up, thanking everyone and raising her own glass.

But Wonwoo doesn’t move.

“Nonu?” You whisper.

In his ears all that can be heard is muffled screams of joy and the incessant acute ringing. He closes his fists so tight that his blunt nails almost break through skin, he doesn’t look at you, but it’s so clear something is wrong.

You and Seokmin exchange glances.

Before you can call for him again, he stands up at once, the chair falling behind him with a loud bang that silences the room in an instant. In large and rushed strides, Wonwoo leaves for the patio.

You stand up and follow him.

“Wonwoo!” You call out, almost tripping over your party heels.

He stands in the yard, hand gripping at his gelled hair while the other fights with his tie, pulling at the suffocating fabric until it slides down.

The yard is decorated with a gorgeous fountain, sound of running water somewhat soothing in this moment.

“Nonu, what’s wrong?” You whisper, a hand reaching for his heaving shoulder.

“What wrong?!” He yells back, shoving your hand away, “Did you not fuckin’ hear ‘em?!”

You step back and his gaze somewhat softens, realising he just pushed you.

“You didn’t know…” You whisper to yourself, epiphany hitting you like a punch to the gut. How could Mr. Jeon do this?! Throw this on him without any previous warning?!

“You— You knew?” His voice is shaky, laced with the sharp sting of betrayal.

“I found it out myself tonight when I got here— I— I thought you knew! I thought you agreed to it!” You argue.

“How— How can you think I would agree to marry someone—“ His words trail off in the night breeze, never to be finished.

“Then— What will you do?”

“I don’t know!”

You bite at your nails, finding a concrete surface to sit on and ponder.

“I must leave—“ He speaks out, “Run away with me—“

“What?!” you stand up.

“Let’s leave, drive somewhere— Wherever! I can’t stay a moment longer in this place.”

Oh, what a dilemma it was.

Abandon an engagement party with the groom-to-be, leaving behind furious parents and confused guests. And part of you knew that, despite your family’s closeness and no matter how much your father claimed you were all very close like family, driving off in the middle of the night with a committed man was a blow to any respectable, single, young ladies.

What a dilemma it could’ve been if you weren’t so enamoured with this man you would beck at any given call of his.

“I’ll get my bag and tell your parents you want to stay out here for a couple of minutes,” You announce and he nods.

As you walk back into the venue, all eyes are on you.

“He’s got the wedding jitters, everyone, not to worry. Wonwoo will return after he’s had a bit of fresh air,” You announce with a smile and all guests return to their previous activities.

But Mr. Jeon immediately corners you.

“What is he thinking?!” He half-yells, half-whispers.

“He’s just nervous, it’s a big bit of news…” You lie through your teeth, “I think a little heads up would’ve helped, you know he doesn’t do well with surprises.”

The man sighs, “He wouldn’t ever agree to it. I’ve offered him countless girls to marry and he never accepts any of them.“ Mr. Jeon looks at you and then sighs. “Do me a favour, convince him to come back, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” You nod and head off into the back rooms.

Unbeknown to you, Seokmin is on your trail and he waits until you are in the back lounge, gathering your bags and jacket to close the door and corner you.

“What the hell happened?”

You jump at the sudden intrusion, “You scared me!” You whisper.

“Sorry,” He whispers back.

“He didn’t know!”

“What?!” He says in a normal tone, soon realising just how loud that was.

“What I said, I think your dad set up a trap… He knows Wonwoo won’t go against his word.”

“Shit. What are we gonna do?”

“He wants to run away,” You announce.

Seokmin looks at you, and then at the purse hanging from your should and the jacket in your hands.

“And you’re coming with him?”

“I can’t leave him alone, not tonight.”

“And where are you going?”

“I don’t know,”

“And when are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

“You are coming back, right?”

“I have no idea, Seokmin,” You realise, but the prospect doesn’t scare you as badly.

He scratches at his head. “Leave through the kitchen, I’ll hold off my dad. Make sure to give me a call once you guys are… I don’t know— Just give a call, will you?”

You nod, pulling him into a hug.

Doing as he instructed, you pass through the kitchen staff and rush through the backdoor, unseen by the guests. Wonwoo is sitting on a concrete bench, his head between his hands.

“Ready?” You call out.

Wonwoo looks up, nodding before he rises to his height. You offer him a comforting smile and reach for his hand.

Once you get hold of his hand, you bolt across the yard toward the parking lot. He almost stumbles over his lanky legs, but catches up rather fast. You throw your stuff on the backseat and enter your car, Wonwoo decides to jump over the door.

You laugh at his antics with a shake of your head.

Once your heels are discarded, you start the engine and drive off, leaving behind that dreaded engagement party. Wonwoo busies himself with shedding his formal wear, throwing his tie on the floor and removing his blazer.

In any other occasion, this could’ve been such a lovely late-night drive, just the two of you in your beloved car, night breeze caressing your faces with her ice-cold kisses, cruising through deserted roads, barely a soul in sight except for the night owls.

And you might allow yourself to enjoy this moment.

The silence isn’t a bother, no, Wonwoo was always a man of comfortable silences to you, but this once, you’re worried about goes on in that busy mind of his.

“You alright?” You ask, looking away from the road to steal a glance or two at him.

“Yeah,” He replies.

“Truly?”

“No,” He scoffs at his own lie. “But I’ll be.”

You nod.

You drive out of town and on the interstate roads for ages until Wonwoo finally speaks up. You’re completely engulfed in darkness except for your headlights.

“We should stop soon and have a rest.”

“Okay,” You nod, “Any preferences?”

“Anywhere.”

And so you tell him to keep his eyes peeled open when a sign on the road says there should be a motel in the next couple KM. It doesn’t take too long before you’re pulling into the parking lot of a roadside motel, much of a far-cry from your expensive hotels and luxury living.

You check in at the front desk with an old man who seems very unhappy with his life, he short of throws the keys your way.

The room is… surprisingly nice, given the circumstances of the ambience. Only problem is the, although quite large, singular bed. You exchange glances.

“Shit,” Wonwoo curses, “I’m gonna

“You wanna get hit?” You joke, “He’s minutes away from killing us over this room. We can just share the bed.”

He looks at you with wide eyes. “I’ll sleep in the tub.”

Oh, he certainly seems to hate the idea of sharing a bed with you, huh.

“Nonu, please, it’s late and we’re both tired. It will be just like when we were kids,” You explain, setting aside your stuff.

Wonwoo nods, sitting on the strangely comfortable bed.

“You think they have robes?” You ask, looking around.

“Wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Oh, I’d kill to get out of this dress,” You whine, running to the bathroom to check for anything you could wear instead of your dress.

He just bites at his lips, watching you pace from side to side in that tiny bedroom.

That’s when you remember your forgotten shopping bags sitting in the trunk! Your compulsive shopping habits just saved you from a very uncomfortable night’s sleep, how convenient!

“I think I have some clothes in my car,” You announce, grabbing the keys and heading toward the door.

“Wait, you’re going by yourself? let me go with you.”

“I don’t wanna lock the door, though,” You whine.

He sighs, “Stay here, I’ll go.”

You jump, “Thank you, Nonu!”

While Wonwoo rummages through your trunk and pulls out the surprising large amount of shopping bags, you shed off your clothes and head toward the bathroom, dying to get some hot water on your body, put on your new PJs and doze off.

When he returns however, he is greeted by a sight any other man would die to see. You’ve left a trail of clothes from the bed toward the bathroom door. Starting on your pretty dress, splayed out over tiled-floor, and then your tights and then your underwear, matching, too—

He clears his throat. “I’m back!”

But you probably don’t hear him through the running shower, so he just sets down the bags and avoid the sight of your clothes. He decides to turn on the tiny TV and browse through any late night re-runs. You take only a couple of minutes in your shower.

“Nonu?” You ask from the bathroom.

“Yeah?” He turns down the TV.

“Did you find the clothes?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you bring me something to wear?” Wonwoo gulps.

“Uh— Which one?”

“There should be a light blue bag and a pink one.”

“Okay—“ He stands up and searches for the aforementioned colours.

Wonwoo heads to the bathroom door and leans against the wall, facing away from the door. He knocks once. You open the door and shove your arm through, reaching for the bags.

“Thank youu!”

He returns to the boring TV. Though all he could think about was the sight of your wet supple skin, knowing you were bare with only a thin sheet of plywood separating you.

You leave the bathroom smelling of cheap soap and fresh into your brand new nightgown. It is tentatively short with an almost see-through round of lace over the hems. In your defence, you weren’t planning on showing this nightgown to anyone anytime soon.

Sitting on the bed, you look around the room, not noticing how Wonwoo’s eyes don’t really meet yours or how red his ears seem to burn.

“Aren’t you gonna shower?” You ask.

“Feels a bit redundant to shower and get back into my dirty clothes.”

“I think I might have something for you, if you don’t want to sleep in a suit,” You pry.

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

“But you can’t judge! I bought this for my dad because you know he deals very poorly with the heat— And he never buys himself anything!” You’re explaining yourself in advance because you remember very well what you bought.

Silky boxer shorts and a tank top, which your father loved to sleep in on stuffy summer nights but you doubted would be Wonwoo’s first choice of wear, ever.

He haggles with his own mind; give into the silky boxer shorts or sleep in the most uncomfortable outfit ever. With a tired sigh, Wonwoo accepts his fate and grabs the bag.

You smile as he stomps toward the bathroom with a defeated frown.

By the time he returns, you’ve cleaned up your trail of clothes and made yourself very comfortable in the bed. You turn your head to face him.

God, he could make a potato sack look good.

“How’s the fit?” You pull your eyes away before you look for too long.

Wonwoo shrugs, “I’ve had worse.”

You laugh.

He coyly joins you in bed, keeping a large gap between your bodies, settling on top of the covers while you’re under their warmth.

“Ain’t you cold?” You ask, fidgeting with the TV remote.

Wonwoo shakes his head, leaning back into the headboard. With a pout, you cross the figurative bridge between the two of you and reach for him. He doesn’t shy away from your touch but it visibly confused.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, hands hovering in the air, far away from your exposed back.

“I’m sorry your birthday party sucked,” You murmur against his chest, Wonwoo smiles softly, letting his hands rest on you.

“It didn’t suck in its entirety,” he says, palms slightly tapping at your back, “it was fun running away with you.”

You giggle at his comment, heart fluttering at its meaning, “What are we going to do? About the engagement, I mean…”

“We?” He raises an eyebrow.

You pull away from him.

“Well— You dragged me into this!” You slap at his chest and he lets out a boisterous laugh that almost manages to pull the corners of your from into a smile.

“I know, I’m taking the piss out of you,” He extends his arms, pulling you back to your previous position, resuming the soft caresses he leaves on your arms. “I don’t know— This is the first time I’ve ever gone against my father.”

You sigh. “Don’t you wanna marry Suzy?”

There’s a pause and oh, you’re begging, wishing to hear the words you want most.

“Fuck no!” Wonwoo exclaims and you fail to hide your excitement.

“She is pretty,” You throw the bait, to pry at his true feelings.

“So is your sister, should I just marry any pretty girl?”

You raise from your position, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. Wonwoo looks at you, completely clueless to his words and its consequences.

“What the hell?!”

“What?”

Kicking off the covers in a flurry, you kneel on the bed, staring at him dead in the eyes. “You have the hots for my sister!”

It’s Wonwoo’s turn to get angry, “What?! No— You’re twisting my words—“

“I’m twisting your words?! You just said you think my sister is pretty!”

“Because she is!”

You jaw drops, you can’t believe he is doubling down. “Wow,” you shake your head.

“What’s wrong with saying that?”

You shrug, turning away from him and crossing your arms. “I don’t know, why don’t you just go an marry my sister, then.”

Only then, does this thick-headed man you love so much realise he has been complimenting other girls without so much as telling you a single nice word — the bare minimum. He sighs and offers you a soft smile, shifting in the bed until he is near you again.

“I don’t want to marry your sister. I think she is pretty, but she’s not the prettiest sister, you are.” He waits for your reaction.

Hook, line and sinker.

You turn around immediately, a hint of smile playing in your pretty lips.

That’s enough for him to break into a wide smile, opening his arms to welcome you back into his warmth. You crash into his chest, wrapping yourself around his torso.

He groans, falling back into the mattress but not letting go of you.

Minutes pass before you speak again. “It’s past midnight…” You whisper.

“It’s well past midnight… Why?”

You shift upwards until your faces are only inches apart, breath tickling his lips, your beautiful eyes gleaming under dim motel lighting. “Happy birthday,” You whisper between smiles, “Make a wish.”

Wonwoo breathes in, eyes scanning your face, “There’s one thing I want…”

“What is it?”

If he said it out loud, he might’ve lost all courage to do so.

So he just does it, Wonwoo leans forward until his lips meet yours in a chaste kiss.

It probably lasted a couple of seconds, but those seconds felt like a lifetime when you were finally kissing the man you’ve loved for god knows how long. There’s a spark of electricity that burns bright from the moment your lips touch and travels through your body, blood boiling in excitement, shyness, and pure love.

When the kiss ends, Wonwoo studies your face, watching for any sign of discomfort. Which is even more worrying when you’re standing there, froze solid with an empty stare.

But thankfully, before he can say anything, you throw caution into the wind.

You pull him into a kiss. Throwing every sense of morale and shame you had out the damn window. He was a man sworn to another, for Pete's sake! But here you here, crashing your lips into his perfect, soft ones.

Wonwoo lets out a quiet groan, almost inaudible, but you hear it, oh yes, you do. And it runs straight through your chest and down to your core.

Although the sensible, rational part of your brain tells you to quit kissing him at once and just apologise, the other 99% of your brain, who’s been in love with him since forever, wants nothing of the sort. And you might have listened to the not-so-rational part of you, because you just deepened the kiss, shifting your weight until you’re partially on top of him.

Your lips move against him, shyly exploring this kiss, engraving every moment into your memory.

Yet he reciprocates. His warm hands finds your waist, holding you flush against his torso, heartbeats thumping completely in-sync. You wrap your arms around his neck and he takes the chance to pull you deeper into those dangerous lips of his. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, licking and twirling against yours, hot and eager.

He dips his head, one hand reaches to tangle into your hair and manoeuvre you around, allowing himself complete freedom to explore every bit of your mouth.

Wonwoo kisses like no other. Not that you had too much of a repertoire to compare him to.

But he consumes your lips with an unbound hunger, nothing similar to the calm and collected Wonwoo you knew, no. He’s hungry, messy, and very clumsy, clashing teeth one too many times, letting saliva drip down your chins and struggling to move with you on top of him.

When you part the kiss, you lay there breathless, gazing into his ridiculously beautiful beady eyes and long eyelashes, his handsome sharp nose and the most kissable lips you’ll ever see.

It was breathtaking, mind-blowing and nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your heart beats so fast you feel as if you might pass out at any moment but you’d die before you give up experiencing that again.

“What was that?” He whispers and his breath tickle your kiss-swollen lips.

“Your birthday gift,” You bite at your lower lip. “Did you like it?”

Wonwoo smiles, breathless and half-lidded and your heart damn near bursts. “I did. Did you?”

You nod.

He nods. “Wanna do it again?”

You nod and he gives you that stupidly handsome smile of his.

And once again, you’re attached at the lips. This once, nothing like before, which you though impossible. It’s so much more desperate and it burns, it boils your blood in absolute desire. It leaves you light-headed, it wipes away your cognitive thoughts and leaves behind a foggy cloud of barely strung-together words that only translate into wanting more. More of him.

You sigh into the kiss and he drinks it all up, he consumes everything you give him with erratic hands and eager tongue.

Wonwoo leaves your lips and you whine with a breathless sigh of his name, almost chipping at any resolve he had left. But he nips at your neck nonetheless, warm, wet tongue trailing along your skin, making you twitch in his arms with the most delectable little ‘yips’ of surprise.

He bites, feral and determined; determined to make his claim, to leave behind his mark on your body, to indulge in carnal pleasure without a prospect of tomorrow, letting everything else be a construct beyond these motel walls, away from where you laid. Away from this reality where he had you in his hands and you moaned his name with a soft smile.

Practically tearing your nightgown, he pulls the silky fabric just enough until your tits spill out of its confine. Wonwoo sighs at the sight, fingers trailing the contour of your boobs, raising goosebumps along sensitive skin. His eyes are burning in adoration, the most depraved glaze of hunger hidden behind sheer excitement.

He dives in, hands kneading at the flesh, squishing soft skin.

Slender fingers caress your aereolas, running fingernails along your nipples in curiosity, watching you squirm and bite at your lips as your nipples begin to perk up.

And when you thought he was done, Wonwoo attaches his mouth to your nipple, sloppily running his tongue around it before he sucks. He makes sure to let his teeth graze, just to watch you jump.

All while his other hand makes work of your unattended boob, your attention is so thinly divided between his teasing fingers and his hot tongue and the sweetest, most satisfied groans that erupt from his throat.

Your face burns and you bite at the back of your hand, shoving down every stubborn moan that tries to make it past; but he won’t have that, no. Wonwoo reaches for your arms, pinning them above your head without so much as pulling away from your tits.

Mindlessly, you’ve been rocking back and forth against him, chasing a gut feeling you’re unsure of but desire more than anything ever. And without realising, you’ve been teasing him just as much as he has you, which is clear by the volume contained by his shorts.

He wishes he could ravish your breasts all night, but any more of your squirming and he will come undone without so much as a touch from you.

Wonwoo pulls away, hands once against finding your waist as he pulls you back to his chest.

“You know what comes next, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, half-lidded, lust-filled eyes gazing so deep into your own.

“I— I’ve never done it before,” You confess.

And something stirs within him, to know he is your first, the first and only man to every touch you this way, to trace his lips over your gorgeous body, to settle inside of you.

Wonwoo smiles and kisses your nose, “I don’t care… But only if you don’t care that I haven’t either.”

You’re surprised, to say the least.

Kissing in between smiles, you raise to your knees, letting him tug at the hem of shorts just enough to free his cock.

It’s nothing like you’ve seen before and unlike the illustrations you remember from school. It’s red and veiny and it glistens with pre-cum under the dim lighting.

But it’s a part of him and you can’t help that your belly stirs at the sight of him stroking himself.

When you reach for the hem of your nightgown, his hands stop you.

“Keep it on—“ He whispers.

“Why?”

“We’ve got all night to take it off,” He runs his tongue through his top teeth with a side smirk and you almost smack him up the head for being such a little shit.

As he asked so kindly, you bunch up your nightgown around your waist, hips circling around his warmth, meanwhile he’s playing with the flesh of your love handles, kneading and running his fingers over your skin.

“Ready?”

You nod. He raises your hips and lets you control the pace, you feed in his cock, centimetre by centimetre, feeling it’s girth tear at your walls with an unimaginable sting, it burns hot and heavy in your hands.

Crashing onto his chest, you cry out a pained yelp.

Wonwoo run his fingers over your back, kissing the top of your head, his eyebrows are bunched up, face painted with worry. “We can stop— Let’s stop—“

“No!” you raise your head and he can see the tiny droplets bundling around your eyelashes, “Just gimme a minute!”

So you sit there, his cock half-in, pulsing angry red and throbbing under the tease of warmth and tightness. Especially when you look so breathtakingly gorgeous, he gulps, leaning back against the headboard, urging his mind to be strong.

It takes you minutes to get used to it, to slowly let the size settle until your muscles are well and accustomed to it and then you start it all over again, feeding the remaining inches until he’s bottomed out.

And oh heavens, how utterly full and hot you felt. Despite the stinging pain, part of you wants to chase the pleasure, clenching in sheer hunger.

Wonwoo stares up at you, looking for any signs of discomfort but he is met with the most enticing, beautiful, and tempting creature he’s ever laid his eyes upon. Your eyes are glassy with tears, but you’ve got a determined look on your face with a hint of a smirk that sends shivers down his spine and up his cock.

“Shit,” He curses out with a smile, leaning back and rutting into your hips only to watch your eyebrows furrow and your mouth gape, a moan threatening to escape. “Ready to move, pretty girl?”

You breathe out, “Yeah.”

Steadying yourself against his chest, you raise your hips, feeling his absence leave you upsettingly empty until you let your body crash back down, his cock impaling you with its warmth once again. You rock against him, shallowly, though the motion is unbearably teasing, even for you.

Wonwoo lets out an obscene, strained moan, fingernails digging into your waist, but you’re too focused on rocking your hips to notice. How he wants nothing but to piston his hips into your pussy like there is no tomorrow, he relishes in the feeling of your warmth, tight and gummy around his throbbing member.

And he finds you might be just as insatiable as he is, especially when you’ve found yourself a steady pace, bouncing up and down, and his name pours out of your lips in such a beautiful manner. Though he can’t just let you have all the control, can he?

“Oh—“ You yip, “Feels so— Good—“ Still unsure of your thought, you explore the feeling, rolling your hips, feeling him stretch your wider, fill your insides and leave you full like you’ve never felt before.

His hips meet yours half way, chasing your cunt every time you leave and pounding into you when you come back down, filling the room with guttural groans and the lewd sound of skin against skin.

You run your fingers under his shirt, feeling bare, warm skin, the softness of his flesh against your hands, the definition of his pecs and the way his nipples peek through the fabric. Wonwoo groans at the way your manicured nails scratch at his chest, gathering momentum as you bounce yourself on top of him.

He notices you’ve started moving faster, practically fucking yourself stupid on his cock and he would tease you halfway through tomorrow if he didn’t find himself in such a similar predicament. His pupils are blown wide, eyebrows furrowed across his brow, pretty lips hanging agape. You’re so utterly perfect and you were all his.

“Tell me how you feel, baby,” He whispers, slowing down for a second.

You sigh, nuzzling against his neck, “So good— I can’t even describe it—“ Your words are so airy and mindless, you’ve been consumed by the pleasure he gives you.

He catches the sight of the white rim that pools around his member, a mix of your juices, but it’s gone, sheathed inside you before he can admire it. There’s a poisoning thought that flashes in his mind, a fleeting, tempting picture. Of planting his seed in your womb, watching your grow full with child, his child. How absolutely breathtaking you would look, round cheeks and gorgeous smile, pretty fingers caressing your bump. And he would taint your taut stomach with his cum, watching it drip over your skin.

Wonwoo bites his lips so hard it breaks skin, throwing his head back, willing his mind somewhere else, anything else lest he come undone right then and there.

Stomach tingling with indescribable pleasure, you lean forward, moaning incessantly, unable to contain your ecstasy. He supports your body, wrapping strong arms around your torso, firm hands planted on your hips, taking over the moving so you can lay still and let the buzz consume your body with its electric touch.

It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, and it crashes over your body in a colossal wave, building up from the pit of your stomach; sending tingles rushing through your boiling blood.

You raise your head, eyes meeting his and it seems he is familiar with this pleasure. His left hand meets your face, caressing your cheek, yet holding you still so he can gaze, he can watch you come undone around him.

Wonwoo watches, unblinking, how your eyebrows furry, your eyes are glossy with tears that cling to your pretty lashes, your lips sit in an enticing pout. Yet you part them, letting out increasingly louder cries of his name.

And you clench around him like there is no tomorrow, egging him on. He thrusts up into you, riding out your orgasm and chasing his over the edge.

He crashes his lips into yours, savouring your hazy kiss, your tired sighs and it doesn’t take long before he’s spurting hot white strings into you, it trickles down him and stains the silk fabric of his boxers.

Soon, he stills all movement except for heavy breathing and the soothing circles he runs over your exposed back.

He kisses your hair. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” You breathe out, “Tired. But good.”

His chest shakes with a soft chuckle, he runs slender fingers along your hairline, fixing any hairs that cling to sweaty skin. “Me too.”

“It felt amazing,” You smile, raising your head to face him. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Wonwoo hums.

“I’m glad it was you, Nonu,” You hid your face against his neck in embarrassment at your own mushy words, but Wonwoo feels their extent, hiding the blush of his cheeks.

It doesn’t take long before the post-orgasm haze lulls you into sleep.

And you slept like never before.

The following morning, Wonwoo wakes up to an empty bed. He panics for a second or two, scrambling to look for your belongings, only to find everything is still there.

Calm, he washes himself up and gets dressed to leave. Finally having a moment to digest the previous night’s events.

He had made up his mind, he would confront his father. His future was his to decide on.

Looking for you, Wonwoo reaches the foyer, only to see you leaning against the wall, attached to the payphone. When your eyes meet his, you immediately say your goodbyes, ending the call.

“Who did you call?” Wonwoo crosses his strong arms against his chest and you try to ignore the sight of his muscly forearms peeking from the folded sleeves.

You don’t like his tone. “Seokmin.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why did you call him?”

“I promised I would,” You shrug.

Wonwoo can’t believe you would call Seokmin out of everyone, especially after you were glued to him last night at the party. “Why him?”

“He’s worried about you, you stupid— Stupid—“ You choke out on any mean names, simply stomping away from him.

Why was Wonwoo being so mean so early in the morning? You thought after the amazing night you spent together things would change between you. Stomping your way back to your room, you grumble under your breath.

While you’re folding your clothes, Wonwoo comes back.

“I’ll talk to my father,” He announces.

Before you can say anything about that, he continues. “We’ll get married— You and I, I mean— ” He clears his throat, “Will you marry me?”

Like a deer in headlights, you’re frozen, staring at him big-eyed with a dopey smile on your lips.

“You’ll marry me?” You question, just in case you’ve tricked yourself into hearing the words you’ve wanted most.

“Yes. And I— I’ll take full responsibility—“

You smile crashes into the ground. “You want to marry me out of… Responsibility?!” The words choke you on their way out.

Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows, not understanding why you would be upset. “Do you not want to?”

“No, I don’t want to fucking marry you!” Not like that.

His face falls and he assumes a much scarier look on his face. “What would you rather marry Seokmin, then?”

And in your fury, you blurt out “Yes! Yes, I would rather marry him!”

You realise your rejection hurt him, you do. But you’re so blindsided by your anger you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he sees you as a responsibility.

Wonwoo is suddenly not so angry, but indifferent. You watch his expression go away, replaced by one much scarier, in your opinion; nothing. A plain poker face.

“Gather your things and go to the car.”

It’s all he says before he leaves the room.

The ride back is the most nerve-racking hours you’ve ever experienced. Wonwoo is silent, even you huff and puff under your breath, angrily chewing on your breakfast of vending machine snacks.

Though he says one phrase as you reach the city. “Leave me here.”

And that’s the last you saw of him for over a month.

Your previous anger dries up, turning into sadness. Then you’re furious. And heartbroken until you’ve accepted your reality. You’ve ruined your friendship and lost the love of your life.

It takes your sister plucking you out of bed for you to finally leave your bedroom in weeks.

She was the first and only person you’ve told about the night spent with Wonwoo. Your parents were absolutely furious that you’d do something so dangerous, though relieved at your safety, they weren’t easy on their words.

“He’s not doing well, you know,” You sister says.

You humph.

“I’m serious. Daddy said he’s clumsy, keeps messing up his work. I think you should go and see him.”

Closing your eyes, you let out a worrisome sigh. You still cared way too much to hear those news and not do something about it.

So you dress up in whatever you can find and drive to his shop, building up a speech on your way there and practising every scenario. You just hoped everything could go back to the way it was.

He’s working on an old model, hunched over the hood in his light blue coveralls, stains of grease from head to toe.

“Knock knock,” You announced your presence, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, looking forward to meeting his eyes as much as you dread to.

Wonwoo immediately recognises your voice, turning around to meet your eyes.

And he looks just as wrecked as you felt. Deep-set eye bags and a tired gaze. Yet he still smiles just as handsomely.

“Hey,” He greets.

“Busy?”

“No! No,” Wonwoo scrambles, placing the wrench down removing his gloves.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, I actually— I wanted to talk to you, too.”

It’s somewhat relieving as well at it’s worrying to hear him say that, it could be an apology as well as an insult or something of the sort.

“We should— We should go to my office, someone might come in—“

“Yeah— We should.” You nod.

You walk into his office, one you’ve visited and killed time in quite often. But coming here after everything feels so crushing, all this distance between you.

“Go ahead—“

“You first—“

You both say at the same time and that seems to ease the stubborn awkwardness pooling in the air. You laugh.

“How about we say it together?”

“On 3?”

“1”

“2”

“3”

Breathing in, you say the words that come to your mind from the bottom of your heart.

“I want to marry you.”

“I love you.”

“What?!”

“What?!” Once again, you both say it at the same time.

“You want to marry me?” He breaks into a wide smile.

“And you love me?” The words feel so alien to you, you can barely believe your ears, you feel the tips of your fingers shake in excitement, your heart pounds so strongly against your rib cage you can almost hear the thumping.

Jeon Wonwoo just said he loves you.

“I— Are you sure you want to marry me? You said you didn’t want to!”

“Yes. Well— I’ve loved you since forever! So when you said you wanted to marry me just out of responsibility— I was heartbroken! It’s like you were forced into doing it!”

“I didn’t want to marry you out of responsibility! I’ve been planning to marry you since the beginning—“

You choke, “You what?!”

Wonwoo sighs, “I never wanted to marry your sister and she was well aware of that… We were blessed that she found her husband and when everything went well, I thought— I hoped that it’d mean we’d be the ones to be wed.”

Processing every word, you almost feel dizzy. “But you said you’d take responsibility!”

“For roping you into running away from my party.”

“Oh.” You’re beyond embarrassed for assuming and above all, for getting so angry you didn’t even let him explain himself.

“I should’ve been clearer,” He admits.

“No— I should’ve talked to you.”

Wonwoo smiles. “Thank you.”

With tiny tears threatening to fall, you can only confirm what you want to know the most.

“You love me?”

“Always,” He smiles.

Wonwoo seems to remember something, he raises his finger in a “wait” motion and leans over his desk, reaching for the top drawer. It’s only when you catch a peek of the velvet box that you almost keel over.

Gulping, he gathers his courage.

In his grease-stained coveralls that smells of expensive cologne and lavender cleaning supplies, Jeon Wonwoo gets down on one knee, nervously looking up at your with his stupidly gorgeous beady eyes and an expectant smile.

“Will you marry me?”

And in your least presentable dress, the one he’d ruined with grease stains and an unruly hairdo, you respond with the biggest smile:

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Had you been questioned, there would be an answer to just how long you will love Jeon Wonwoo.

You’ll love him forever.

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ggomos-maribat · 1 year

Text

The Consequences of Her Visit

Part 3 of Heirs Apparent | AO3

Masterlist

Danny dragged his feet to the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of water. This time, he wasn't deprived of any sleep; he'd snored his way through the entire afternoon after a particularly long morning of attending to kingly duties.

He threaded his fingers through his hair. The day marked four months since he had last heard from his mother. Her last letter had informed him about the situation of the League: the members had split into two main factions, one in support of a new leader and one in support of Talia and Nyssa's current rule. Talia never made her letters lengthy or personal, but Danny found comfort in receiving them. It told him that his mother was at least alive.

The hairs on the back of his head abruptly stood on end when he sensed a presence by the kitchen table.

"Dani, I told you to tell me first before you suddenly drop by," he sighed.

But when he was met with no snark, no reply, he whipped around to see an unexpected guest. "Amira? What are you doing here?"

Marinette gave him a gentle smile. "Sorry, I just . . . I needed to see you. It's been four months."

"Since the letters." Danny moved around the kitchen to prepare hot drinks for the both of them.

"Yeah." Marinette cast her gaze down. "I can't really visit Damian without compromising our identities so I thought I should come to you."

Danny shared her sentiments. He already had half the mind to fly to Paris or Gotham out of paranoia but held back, thinking of it as a reckless move. But he was more than relieved to have his sister visit.

He repeated the words from the last letter. "The League is split into two factions. She's probably occupied with that, right?"

"I imagine she's taking precautions so the other faction cannot trace us."

Excuses to reassure themselves. Danny had already known the fact that death was inevitable for any of them—they were a family of assassins after all. But he didn't know if he'd be able to accept it when it did happen. He swallowed down the bitter lump in his throat. Cross the bridge when you get there. Don't think about that right now.

He took the steaming mugs of coffee, handing Marinette one much to her delight. He wasn't unfamiliar with her addiction to caffeine but he had the same tendencies so he was happy to indulge her.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to stay here?" Marinette shot a wary look at the stairs leading up to the bedrooms.

"Don't worry, Mom and Dad can't be woken up even if there's a ghost and Jazz just pulled an all nighter so she's knocked out," Danny explained and Marinette hummed in reply.

He often wondered if she felt any different shifting into a new family. In his first days with the Fentons, there was a strange feeling accompanied by being the youngest as a transition from being one of a set of triplets.

"Is there anything bothering you?" asked Marinette, sipping on her drink. Translation: has anyone targeted you?

"Nothing really. The usual," he shrugged. "Ember, Technus, Fright Knight. They're minor inconveniences at this point. What about you?"

"Hawkmoth's still Hawkmoth," said Marinette. "But, um, my partner and I are handling things better. We're together now."

Danny made a mental note to arrange a shovel talk later on when he saw a pink blush dusting her cheeks.

"I'm worried about you," he confessed, "I was thinking . . . Rogues will always be in Gotham and ghosts won't cease to exist here but you—you can defeat the villain in your city. There's an end to his reign. If we can help out in uncovering his identity, Paris will be at peace again."

"It's too dangerous. I'm sorry, akhi."

Danny took a sip from his cup. Just like that, his help was turned down.

With his luck, footsteps sounded from the staircase. He scrambled to get Marinette into a hiding place but she was faster, effortlessly slipping inside a cabinet. Danny had just enough time to push back her chair and bring her mug next to his when Jack entered the kitchen.

"Whatcha you doing up, son?" Jack asked. Danny pretended not to notice that his adoptive father was all geared up.

"Can't sleep." Danny forced out a faux smile. "It's nothing bad."

"Why do you have two cups of coffee?"

"Uhmmm, I like to have an extra just in case." He pulled the other mug closer to his.

Thankfully, Jack didn't seem to think twice about it. "Well, your mom and I are driving over to Springfield. One of our ghost sensors went off there and we're gonna test our newest invention!"

"You're going right now? At this hour?" Another ghost-hunting trip. What did he expect?

"Yup!" As if on cue, more footsteps padded down the stairs. Most likely it was Maddie, who was loading their equipment into the truck. "Who knows, we might be able to catch that sneaky Phantom!"

A chill passed over Danny's spine. The fact that Marinette was hearing how obsessed the two were about hunting down Phantom wasn't good. He drummed his fingers nervously on the table. "Doesn't he stay in Amity Park though?"

"You never know." Jack dug into his pocket and handed him a few bills. "Here's a lil' something for you. Get yourself something nice while we're out."

Danny looked down at the allowance left for them. It was barely enough to buy them groceries to last a whole weekend. Jack, as usual, didn't seem to realize this and only ruffled his hair before heading out the front door. In less than a minute, the RV was speeding down the street.

And Marinette was out from her hiding spot.

"Danny, what was that?" He couldn't meet her eyes as she asked the dreaded question.

"What was what?"

"Are your parents always like that?" Her tone was firmer, voice louder.

He didn't answer. Marinette moved closer to him and he knew—he knew—she was analyzing him, watching his every move to read the answer from him. "Danny. Danyal." She clutched the edge of the table. "What was that?"

He had told his siblings about how he came to be a Halfa, but he only mentioned in passing that his parents were hunters. He chose to omit their neglect, and preferred to just live with it. "Jack and Maddie care about catching ghosts more than us," he told his sister quietly, "But they're good people, amira."

"But what he said about Phantom." Venom laced her words. "How can they be so reckless? What about you? You're a good person, don't they see that?"

Danny opened his mouth and clamped it shut. Ancients, what am I supposed to say? 'We're used to it'? He braved a look at her eyes and found them flowing with emotion, perhaps even more than what she could show back in Paris.

"They don't know you're . . ."

"No, they don't."

"But Jazz knows, right?" She took a seat, accepting her cup again.

"Yes, and she's been taking care of me ever since." He reached across to squeeze her hand. "It's okay, we're okay right now. As soon as Jazz finishes college and saves up enough money, we'll be out of this house."

"Why didn't you tell us you've been living like this?" Her face was red, her irises were watery and her fingers shook. Marinette was good at concealing her emotions, but she was better at expressing them at the right times.

"The same reason why we lie about our past," Danny answered solemnly. "You understand that, don't you?"

A harsh glare was directed at him. "Yes, we lie to other people but that doesn't mean you lie to us. No matter what you think of the situation, it's dangerous for you. And don't say you didn't want to worry me and akhi, because we're always worried."

His shoulders sagged. He did want to tell them but only when he had settled on a new life. "I'm sorry."

Marinette heaved out a sigh, and it that second Danny felt like he was the youngest, fresh out of a scolding. She sipped on her coffee to calm herself down, rubbing away the tears from her eyes. "You know akhi will skin you alive, right?"

His lips quirked up into a smile. "It's not like I'm not already half-dead."

"Danyal."

"I know, I know." His smile stretched wider. "Are you going to tell him?"

Marinette huffed. "I should."

"I'll tell him myself. Later today." He downed the last of his coffee, savoring the sweet taste.

"What?"

"You said it's difficult to visit Damian, but it's less risky if it's me. I'll drop by Gotham, check on him, and ask if he's heard anything from the League or Mother," he vowed. "Then I'll come clean."

Marinette's lips curled. ". . . Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll make it quick and give you an update after." Plus, I can always overshadow akhi if it doesn't go well. Or disappear right away.

----

Danny didn't find his brother in manor, so he opted to track his location to the Botanical Gardens where he saw Damian with Titus. He swiftly checked if he was truly alone before jotting down a coded message on a broad leaf. He dropped the leaf on the page Damian was sketching on, and the latter quickly deemed the coast clear.

"Hey, akhi." Danny carefully sat down beside his brother. The setup and timing were too perfect.

It was almost as if Damian was expecting him.

"Amira told you, didn't she?" Danny said with a wince.

"She concisely summarized what transpired during her visit." Damian paused his sketching, patting Titus' head who seemed to be interested in Danny's presence. "Now explain."

Of course she'd snitch on me, Danny grumbled to himself. But then again, I promised to tell Damian. "It's exactly how it is. My adoptive parents . . . aren't the best parents. Ghost hunting has always been the topmost priority for them and Jazz has been the one taking care of me for as long as I remember."

"Why were you keeping this from us?"

Danny's leg bounced up and down. From their childhood, it was always Damian who asserted his elder position among the three, despite being born only three minutes before Danny. Danny always thought his brother was subconsciously pressured to be the one in charge, along with the obligation of being the League's heir.

"Because . . . it's too messy to deal with it. I don't want court cases linked to us or CPS knocking at our door," Danny replied. "And it's better this way. They don't care too much if I'm out late or missing for a few days. At least Jazz and I have the freedom to deal with our lives, especially ghost-fighting."

Danny looked at his brother. He hadn't torn his gaze away from the page, continuing to draw the pink hydrangeas in front of them. Danny leaned back. "There's also the Guys In White."

"Guys in White?"

"A secret government organization dedicated to eliminating ghosts." The awful memories filled his head one by one. "If Jack and Maddie are out of the picture, they might come for me and Jazz or confiscate their hunting equipment. I don't need more ghosts falling into their hands."

Danny laughed humorlessly. "So I guess our parents' neglect is a double-edged sword in that way."

He felt his eyes shifting in color as he imagined what the GIW could do to them and his subjects. Damian clearly sensed his anxiety as he didn't pry any further about the organization (though Danny knew his akhi would be doing a lot of incognito research later on).

". . . I see," Damian finally uttered after moments in silence.

Danny cocked an eyebrow. "That's it? 'I see'? You're not going to skin me?"

"Tt. I trust that you and Jasmine know what you're doing and I see no need to interfere . . . yet." A scowl flashed on his face. "Also, I refuse to be a victim of your possession again."

Danny blinked. He anticipated blood. A bruise or two at least. But a calm Damian was more terrifying; he took it as a promise that his brother will retaliate if ever anything happens to him under the care of his adoptive parents.

Nonetheless, he was glad he could finally confide in his siblings about his situation and give them more clarity on his double life as a Halfa.

"Overshadowing," Danny corrected, snorting. "That was one time! I didn't know where to hide."

"You made a fool out of me in front of Kent."

"Come on, he totally bought it!"

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#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #bio dad bruce wayne #danny phantom au #danny phantom crossover #dc x danny phantom x miraculous #dp x dc #heirs apparent #dp x dc x mlb #dc x miraculous

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justalonelyslytherin · 1 year

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My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | six

previous chapter | Masterlist | next chapter

Pairing: secret king!Steve Rogers x heir apparent!female Reader

Summary: The search for clothing continues. With it, the discovery of more personal things comes.

Warnings: slight mention of parental loss

Wordcount: 4.4k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don’t steal my work.

A/N: The dividers are made by @/firefly-graphics. As you might have noticed (again) this chapter took a long time to be posted. University is still to blame for this. I started working on my thesis but hopefully I'll be able to get back to posting a new chapter every 2-ish weeks!

Taglist: open, in the reblogs, let me know if you want to be added

“Hey Steve, do you have a clue where exactly those clothes are supposed to be? So we got a place to start looking?” Sam’s voice carried out of the room.

"Yeah, punk. We’ll be occupied for the rest of the week if not.” Bucky complained shortly after. It was no surprise he did, she understood as she followed Steve - at last - into the room.

For a storage room, it was big. And for its proportions, it was well used. The walls were stacked with shelves and drawers that stretched from bottom to ceiling. Every available wall space that wasn’t stacked with furniture had either frames hung on the wall or propped against it.

Even the middle of the room was filled with more clustered space. More shelves to divide the room into smaller sections. She could barely see the other end of the room, the only hint of its end was the soft light coming in from the outside.

There were gaps between the books and other items stacked in the compartments. Through one such crack she spied the blonde hair of her youngest sister as Yelena stood before the middle shelf and eyed what looked to be a toy car carved out of wood.

“There should be a couple of chests or an old cabinet,” Steve drew out slowly and contemplatively as he looked through the room. She had the distinct feeling that he was still overwhelmed. If not from the room itself anymore then from the sheer vastness of it.

“How come all of this is here?” Yelena wanted to know, peeking behind the shelf with furrowed brows. “I thought you rented this place.”

That caused the men – or rather Sam and Bucky – to laugh. She couldn’t share this amusement and neither could Natasha, as the two sisters shared a look. Back was the uncomfortable twisting in her gut.

“The cabin belongs to my family,” Steve spoke over the quieting laughter of his friends, “the clothes are leftovers from our frequent stays in the past.”

“How can you afford to keep a place like this over the years? Does the crown pay you that well as simple guards?” Natasha’s question had a certain bite to it. If any of them had been offended by the degradation of their jobs, they didn’t show it.

No, instead they took it with humor. Bucky snorted, a pleased and somewhat prideful smirk adorning his lips.

“We are not simple guards. We are the guards.”

Sam nodded in agreement, a twinning grin on his lips. “We are part of the royal guard. The bodyguards of the king.”

“Sam.” Steve’s warning, disapproving tone was directed only at his friends while his eyes were focused entirely elsewhere. Her. The hitch of her breath must have been loud enough for the blond beside her to hear.

It had been a bad enough revelation that they’d been guards in the king's palace in Brooklyn’s capital. This was so much worse. Once more the dreaded feeling returned to the pit of her stomach. She’d lead her sisters directly into the lion's den without meaning to do so.

“Even so,” Yelena crossed her arms before her chest, nose raised challengingly. She didn’t seem too impressed with the new revelation. Her and Natasha had always been good at masking their surprise. And while Yelena lacked the talent at hiding her pure and childlike excitement, every other emotion she could hide just as well as Natasha behind an unimpressed exterior. “So long as you aren’t the king's best friend I don’t believe your pay to be good enough to be able to afford this place.”

“You are right. But a nobleman rarely needs to worry about money. Right, Steve?” Bucky glanced at his blonde friend and she wanted to close her eyes and be swallowed by the waters of the great lake.

She’d thought too soon. It had gotten even worse.

Too much. It was all too much.

“Just shut up for a minute, would you? You are making it worse.” Steve’s bark sounded closer than he had been before. It wasn’t his voice that pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts eventually, it was his hands on her shoulders. Something about the contact between him and her felt so soothing and grounding. Looking up she found him directly in front of her, his eyes already intensely looking at her.

“You gotta stop worryin’.”

His voice was soft and had an unlike drawl to it that she hadn’t heard before. The quip of his lip suggested amusement, maybe teasing but the softness in his eyes told her he wanted to calm her. “I’ll tell you as many times as you need to believe: You guys are safe with us. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. And there is nothing that will change this either. Ok?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, pushing his hands away from her in a moment of defense. She kept acting like a spooked goose, honking and running in circles. Time to stop acting like a scared little girl and return back to the soon-to-be ruler of an entire nation. She couldn’t act so foolish. She was a princess. A future queen. Time to act like it.

“I just didn’t expect you to dump that kind of revelation on us. Again.”

“It’s like us saying we are related to the widovian throne.” Natasha stayed entirely unbothered by her glare for that comment.

“That’d be a shocker,” Sam claimed with a snort. Yeah, wouldn’t it?

“Because it’s impossible,” Steve acclaimed, looking at them with exasperation. If he just knew. “Can we get back to concentrating on the task at hand?”

She could only agree, she wanted to focus on the simple task. One that wouldn’t set her off with more worry and uncertainty about their entire entanglement. Sighing she combed her fingers through her hair, rubbing over her scalp. “Are there any more things you’d like to tell us before I get another shock?”

Steve looked at her apologetically. The shake of his head was all she needed to drop her shoulders and nod. Alright. She could handle it if they didn’t jump another thing onto them. Like one of them being the King's brother.

“I do have some more questions,” Natasha quipped cooly. She was leaning with her shoulder against the middle shelf and looking at the three men with scrutiny.

“Guess we can answer a couple while we look for the clothes.”

“It’s only fair since we grilled you yesterday. Your turn now,” Sam also agreed, grinning relaxedly.

“So, where do we start?” Yelena wanted to know, running her fingers over the spine of a couple of books.

“There.” Bucky pointed into a corner left to them, where a couple of chests stood. They didn’t look particularly special, not standing out in any way but the brunette seemed confident in his choice. After all, he knew this place. Maybe he remembered some of the places the clothes had been stored in.

A big cloud of dust took to the air after the thick layer was disrupted by Sam and Bucky. Each of them had taken to one side of the big chest, scooting the huge wooden construct forward before they’d lifted the heavy lid up.

The price for it was the beige, gray shimmer in the air, the result of the many particles of dust going everywhere. The two men had been enveloped in it nearly instantly but the rest of them weren’t spared either. Quickly the dust raced to tickle everyone’s noses. It didn’t take long for the sneezes and coughs to erupt.

Natasha – surprisingly – was the fastest to recover from the powdery onslaught and while they still waved their hands in front of their faces or squinted their watering eyes, she leaned with her shoulder against the nearest shelf, looking at the chest.

“So all three of you are noble brats?” Her lips were pulled into a sly and teasing grin. Sam huffed more in surprise than in offense.

“These two–” he nodded towards Steve and Bucky, “–yeah. I’m a simple fisherman’s son from one of the coastal towns.”

The protests coming from said ‘noble brats’ went unheeded by Natasha and Sam. Instead, the redhead continued, undeterred.

“How does a simple fisherman’s son end up as one of the king's bodyguards?”

“Met ‘em in the military.”

“Him? Personally?” She blurted surprised, beating Natasha to the word.

“Yeah we, uhm, we all served in the same unit.” Steve butted in stepping beside her, arms loosely crossed in front of his chest. He glanced over at Sam. The two of them shared a brief and entirely silent conversation before he continued, “He found friends in us, thought us to be loyal. And when our service came to an end he wanted to have his most trusted friends close to him and so he offered us the jobs.”

She watched their lips twitch up into smiles. There was warmth and pride in their smiles but also in the way they held themselves.

Natasha, content with the answer and the provided information jumped to the next topic. This time her eyes turned towards the third in their bunch. The brunette was hunched over the chest, one arm bracing himself on the edge of the chest, while his other hand dug around its contents.

“How do you know widovian?”

Bucky’s head snapped up. He smirked at Natasha, a playful glint shining in his eyes. The redhead wasn’t as amused and neither was she. No, she was very curious to listen to his explanation. There weren’t many people outside of Widovia – and Sokovia – who could speak their national language. Not anymore.

With the complete closure of their borders and their retreat into solitude the lands around them had ceased to show interest in their culture. It was hard for her to imagine that people outside would have still learned to pick up the language.

Why then, did a man born and raised in their enemy country, with no apparent descent from their home, possess the ability to speak their mother tongue?

“I figured you’d want to know that,” Bucky told them relaxed and confident. He didn’t feel called out, nor scrutinized and he certainly didn’t see anything wrong with it either. Leaning against the chest his eyes jumped from Natasha to Yelena to her. All three were now closely paying attention to him.

“That doesn’t answer the question.” Yelena frowned, raising her eyebrow in return as she waited, rather impatiently, for him to give his answer. A proper one.

The way he shrugged his shoulders so nonchalantly had her clench her jaw. She knew he wasn’t meaning to offend them but to them it was a matter of offense and pride, and in a smaller part also about safety. Their people inside the borders were only safe as long as those borders stayed impenetrable. Every way that something could slip out could be a way for something – or someone – to slip in too.

“There was an old man,” he started, “who I met after I joined the army. He’d lived in Widovia for many years as an emissary prior to the conflict. Just before Widovia closed its borders he returned home. He taught me.

A little only.”

“Yeah, we can tell. Your pronunciation is shit.” Yelena’s dryness never ceased to amaze. Steve and Sam started laughing while Bucky winced, scratching at his chin in embarrassment. Even her lips quipped up in amusement at the unforgiving words.

“Holy shit is something wrong with you?” There was no heartbeat wasted by her sister as the blonde looked at her suspiciously. At least Yelena had the heart to look concerned and not disgusted.

“Why?”

“Where is the stern ‘Yelena’?” She should be mad at the way her sister imitated her scolding voice. “Where is the disapproving look for mocking someone? Your usual lecture?”

“Well, you are right. He sounds bad.”

“Like a tyro.” Natasha agreed with another smirk on her lips.

While Bucky clasped his hand to his chest, looking at the three of them in mocking hurt, acting as if they just ripped out his heart, Steve furrowed his brow and asked “What’s a–what was that word you said?”

“A tyro?” She asked the adorably confused-looking blonde.

“Yeah, that,” he nodded. She could see he wanted to try to pronounce it, the desire, the way the world lay on the tip of his tongue. Yet he refrained from trying, not wanting to make a complete fool out of himself.

“It’s a somewhat mocking, playful term for a beginner. A rookie you would call it?”

“Whatever it means, please just keep calling him that. Especially with that delectable accent of yours. I didn’t know widovian could sound so good and seductive.”

The glare Bucky sent toward Sam was murderous. Surprising – and something she herself didn’t notice but Natasha very well did – was Steve’s lesser but still pronounced glare towards Sam for the flirtatious remark.

“How about less bickering and more looking?” Yelena quipped, pointing towards the chest Bucky leaned against. In his hand, he held something out of fabric. Had he found something already?

When the brunette held it up however it was nothing any of them would be able to wear. The shirt clearly had belonged to either one of them as small boys. Now it looked comically small in the buff man’s hands.

“No luck.”

So they turned towards the next chest to find something in there. While Sam and Bucky cleared the space and freed the chest from everything that had been stacked on top of it, nothing remained to do for the rest of them.

To pass the time waiting she found herself looking around the room. It felt like a treasury. Every book, every little trinket that littered the spaces of the shelves, felt to her like a magnificent find. Each one told a story about the past, about the time Steve spent here, about the other people that used to reside in this place. Not only was it a glimpse into those people’s lives and their beings but also into another culture. Another glimpse at Brooklyn, so personal and intimate.

Her roaming eyes caught the glimpse of a wardrobe through a gap in the shelf. It looked big, reaching over the top of the shelf towards the ceiling. Something about it pulled her in. It had caught her curiosity.

Slowly she slipped from the preoccupied group. Walking through the opposite aisle between the shelves, she reached the opposite side of the room.

There, before her stood the massive wooden wardrobe in its entire glory. The intricately carved details on its doors held her in awe, the round brass knobs were just as beautifully decorated with swirls and other patterns. It looked magical. Like a wardrobe out of fairytales, ones that held magical clothes and items and ones that held secret passageways to another world beyond their grasp and understanding.

The wood felt smooth and luxurious under her fingers. There was a keyhole out of brass but no key anywhere in sight. Please don’t be locked.

“You found another place to look through?” For once Steve didn’t startle her. She glanced back as he stepped up, looking at the wardrobe before her. He eyed it from top to bottom, ending on her fingers about to follow the outline of the keyhole. “Think it’s open?”

“I hope so.” Letting her hand drop, she took a step back until she was at level with him.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” Steve sighed, rubbing his neck as he looked at her in apology. “I didn’t want to scare you…didn’t want those idiots to dump all of that on you guys.”

There was a smile splitting its way across her lips as Steve mumbled beside her. It was sweet. “It’s not your fault,” she told him, stopping him in his ramblings.

“Well, I should have told you in the first place.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. There was no reason for any of you to bring this up unprompted and there was no way for you to know whether I would react…well like that.”

Steve looked at her softly, his eyes searching and when they found what they were looking for, he softly but quietly asked, “Why did you react like that?”

Parting her lips she couldn’t come up with any words to answer him, so she closed her mouth again. Her lips pressed together tightly as she thought about it. Why? The answer was fairly simple yet she felt so troubled to pronounce it.

“It’s my fault if something happens to them,” she told him after a long, contemplative silence. Glancing behind her, through the cracks in the shelves, she spied her sisters. “I can’t let anything happen to them.”

Steve followed her gaze, turning his head back to watch the group of four unlikely individuals. These girls were peculiar. Mystery clouded around them like thick wads of smoke. They were peculiar but also special.

Something told him she was particularly special. Something in the way she held herself, something about the almost unbound curiosity mixed with a distinctive hesitancy she displayed. She was an enigma and it made him all the more curious.

Steve couldn’t deny the strong pull he felt toward this beautiful, mysterious woman. He couldn’t keep away, he couldn’t help seek her out. All he wanted to do was be by her side and look at her. He wanted to make her smile. He wanted to be the one to show her the world. To show her his world. The one that was so familiar to him yet so foreign and strange to her.

“Nothing will happen to you, I promise,” he told her and with a more serious note he added, “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

Her eyes softened at his words, the worry in them dissipated. It was replaced by a touch of sadness so heavy that it made Steve’s heart painfully constrict. He wanted to reach out and cradle her in his arms, to wipe the sadness from her beautiful face. The urge to protect them grew only stronger.

She couldn’t know, she had to believe him to be a silly man with wishful thinking and promises too big to keep. That whatever safety he promised wouldn’t be enough. They’d obviously gone through a lot if she was this hesitant and anticipating danger around every corner. If she only knew what kind of might he held and what he was willing to sacrifice after knowing her for less than two days.

“Shall we try to open it?” She cleared her throat and averted her eyes in favor of gazing back at the wardrobe. A feeling of defeat settled in Steve’s stomach, the ugly sensation churned and growled deeply as he fought to suppress it.

With a nod, he stepped toward the massive wooden structure. Cool felt the brass knob under his skin, the raised embossments pressed into his palm. With a gnarly squeak, the door gave away, easily following his hand as he pulled the door open.

A small gust of dust followed. This time however Steve was clever enough to avert his face and spare himself a sneezing fit. When he peered into the belly of the furniture a smile raised on his lips.

“You seem to be very good at finding things.” He stepped to the side, making space for her to peer into the closet beside him. Inside was a multitude of different clothing items both hung and folded.

“I was already afraid of having to try to squeeze into some of your childhood clothes,” she mumbled with a triumphant smile. Steve snorted, he glanced toward the floor to conceal how big of a smile she brought to his face.

“You surely would have looked fabulous in dinosaur print.”

“Dinosaur print?” She curiously raised an eyebrow. Steve in return blushed and smiled bashfully at her.

“I was obsessed with Dinosaurs, the stars, and the ocean.”

“I’d love to see the ocean at some point,” she mumbled, “Your capital lies on the coast, right?” With a hum Steve nodded. “How is it? Growing up so close to the sea I mean?”

“The view is beautiful, something entirely different to the mountains.

In the summer the salty breeze travels into the city, and the winds help keep the city cool. There are rivers making their way through parts of the city and people have built small boats to ride through the canals. When the sun hits the waves the water glistens like gems.

Oh, and the caves along the beaches. Bucky and I used to explore them as children. We imagined them to house all kinds of magic: a sleeping dragon, the buried treasure of a pirate crew, all such things.

Buck also taught me to sail a boat. We’d sneak out of our beds after bedtime and climb out of our windows, down to the marina where we’d hijack his father’s boat.”

Her breath hitched as she watched him talk about his home. There was a tranquil look on Steve’s face, one of content and fond memories.

“Did you ever get caught?” She whispered. It was almost pitiful to disturb this peaceful look on Steve’s face. Almost, weren’t it for the happy glint in his eyes and smile at her indulgence.

“Many times. We got into so much trouble but we didn’t care about it. We would do it again after every scolding.” It sounded like he had had a fun childhood.

For a moment it made her sad, thinking how it would have been had her parents been around longer. Would her sisters and her have had a childhood like that? Would they have been able to be innocent children?

She didn’t want to focus on these thoughts and Steve turned out to be a great help in preventing her from thinking more such depressing things. He continued to tell her about the shenanigans he and Bucky had been up to in their childhood as they gradually shifted their focus on pulling out some of the clothes.

Happily Steve told her everything that came to his mind, at least until she interrupted his babbling with a deep frown on her face, “I’m not a puppet.”

“Yes,” he answered her, confidently and nearly automatically. Steve was ready to continue his story, the delayed meaning of her words setting in stopped him abruptly. Confusion transformed his features as he stopped his motions and turned to her,

“No…

What?”

“Why would you call me a puppet?” She frowned up at him, her feathers clearly ruffled as she huffed, although he couldn’t understand how that had happened.

“I…didn’t.”

“You called me ‘Doll’,” she stated and it clicked. Warmth flooded Steve and his cheeks began to burn.

“That’s not the same,” he mumbled, yet it was clear this did not explain the situation to her. Instead, Steve found himself opposite of her accusingly raised eyebrow. The same unamused look he had witnessed her giving her younger sister. Steve gulped, not enjoying being on the receiving end of that look one bit.

“That’s, um…” With a sigh, he bashfully glanced to the floor and rubbed at his neck. He was in trouble.

Huge Trouble. How could he explain it to her without revealing he had just called her a pet name by accident? A term usually reserved for lovers? Yet it had just slipped out as he had addressed her.

“Doll is a term of endearment that men call their female friends. It’s a non-specific name.”

She looked at him doubtfully, a wary glint in her eyes as she looked at him with pursed lips. It didn’t sound quite right to her, he could see it in her expression and it terrified Steve. Desperately and frantically he wracked his brain to find another explanation. One with which he wouldn’t dig himself an even deeper hole. Perhaps a straight-up apology would be best suited. He had to be honest with her and hope she wouldn’t find any insult from it. But before Steve could open his mouth again, she shook her head and mumbled,

“Some of your traditions are weird. Why would it be endearing to call someone a puppet? That's not nice.” There was a remaining hint of disgruntlement in her voice, one that brought out the natural drawl of her widovian. It was a mighty wrong moment to feel like that but the sound of her accent made Steve’s heart flutter.

He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. He adored her view, and couldn't help but find her reaction to it anything but cute.

Their hunt for clothing in the end turned out to be successful, albeit long. It had taken them the better part of a couple of hours to locate enough items that would be suitable both indoors and outdoors in the freezing, wintery cold.

Sam, Bucky, Yelena, and Natasha had tackled the chests on one side of the room while Steve and she had been isolated on the opposite side of the room. Only when both parties had met at the door to the hallway had her sisters and Steve’s friends even noticed their absence.

Now the girls were on their way out of the room, trailed by the men. Sam and Steve carried the piles of musty and dusty clothing – they’d unanimously decided to chuck all of it into the washer first.

Bucky eyed the clothes in Steve’s arms suspiciously, stopping in the doorframe, he blocked both Steve and Sam from leaving the room.

“What?” Steve asked, noticing Bucky’s eyes on the clothes in his hands.

“Those are some of your mother’s clothes,” Buck noted and Steve fell silent.

There was a pause before he answered slowly, “Yes.”

The statement didn’t seem enough for Bucky, however, who raised an eyebrow once more. “They’ll fit and suit her well.”

Sam and Bucky didn’t need to ask who ‘her’ was in this case.

Without saying anything else Steve pushed past Bucky and left the room. It was now Sam’s turn to glance at Bucky, alternating between looking at him and toward where Steve had just stood.

“You wanna tell me what that was?”

“Steve hasn’t touched any of his mother’s things since she passed away.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, so he had gotten over it. What was there to it that Bucky made a big deal out of it?

“He didn’t allow anyone to touch them. All of Sarah’s belongings were stashed away. He couldn’t bear looking at them and being painfully reminded of his mother not even a week ago.”

#steve rogers x reader #my kingdom your kingdom #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #king!steve x heir apparent!reader #modern royalty au #royalty au #christmas au

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angelasscribbles · 2 years

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Heir Apparent Chapter 17: Unvarnished Truths

Series: Heir Apparent.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Liam x Riley (past)

Rating: R

Warnings: Mature themes, language, Depression mentioned

A/N: So I wrote the last chapter from a prompt. The prompt put it in my head but really I think I got a little ahead of myself lol. Not that anyone probably even remembers this one it's been so long.

This chapter takes place the week before the prior chapter. I wanted to explore some of the attempts at relationship repair before moving on to the fallout from the news of the pregnancy being leaked to the press.

I apologize to the fans of this story. I've stayed away from it for far too long.

Everything else: Master List.

The week before the news story broke…..

Liam x Drake

“I’ve always been jealous of you, you know.” Liam sat at the edge of his chair, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“What?” Drake fumbled the water bottle he’d been about to take a drink of.

“What?” Liam lifted his eyes in surprise as he regarded his lifelong best friend. “You didn’t know that?”

“Why would I know that, Li? It makes no sense! I’m the one that grew up in your shadow! You had everything that I didn’t. Money, privilege, respect…”

“None of those are things that you value.” Liam reminded him.

Drake was brought up short. “…that’s true, but still, having those things would certainly have made life easier. I had to work my ass off and prove myself over and over to obtain the things you were handed just for being born.”

Liam sat up straight as he studied Drake thoughtfully, “Do you resent me for that?”

“Of course not!” Drake scoffed, “You know that, right?”

Liam shrugged, “I thought I did. But it must have felt good to finally be able to have something I couldn’t.”

Drake stared at him for a long moment as the implication sunk in, “You mean Riley.”

“I mean Riley.”

Drake shook his head, “Are you serious right now, man? She’s not a fucking object! And I didn’t go after her out of some sense of wanting to take something from you! I fought against my feelings for her to the point of driving myself insane because of my loyalty and friendship to you!”

Drake jumped out of his chair, still holding the water bottle, and stalked to the windows lining the far wall of the large sitting room at Valtoria that was currently being used for their weekly therapy session.

The king of Cordonia couldn’t be seen entering the therapist’s office, nor could the therapist be seen entering the palace. So Liam had been coming to Valtoria once a week for the last month for therapy sessions.

Riley saw the therapist alone once a week for her depression, which had shown marked improvement.

Riley and Drake also did couples therapy once a week and every Wednesday the three of them met for family counseling.

This week, Dr. Bennett had requested that Riley not attend the session, to give Liam and Drake a chance to work out their issues with each other.

Dr. Bennett shifted her gaze from Drake back to Liam as she tapped her pencil lightly against the notepad in her lap.

Liam sighed as he ran a hand down his face.

“Liam, you asked if Drake resented you,” Dr. Bennett interjected, “I think it’s fair to ask if you resent him.”

“Of course I resent him!” Liam threw his hands up in the air, “He took the only thing I ever actually wanted for myself!”

“You’re talking about Riley?”

“Yes, I’m talking about Riley. I loved her!” He still loved her, but that seemed pointless to say.

Or feel.

“You said earlier that you were jealous of him,” the doctor continued, “Would you care to expound on that?”

Drake turned back toward the room, but he made no move to return to his seat. He stood with his back to the window bank fidgeting with the water bottle.

“Uh…” Liam watched the toe of his highly polished shoe as his foot tapped nervously against the floor, “To an outside perspective it may seem that I have everything. Money, power, titles, etc. But it all comes with a price tag, a hefty one.”

Drake’s face softened as he listened. He of all people understood what Liam’s life had been like, how the crown had constrained and shackled him.

He’d been there with him through most of it.

“Drake had the freedom that I didn’t,” Liam addressed his remarks to the doctor, “He had friends, real ones. I could never be sure who liked me for me and not my title or money. He had a father that actually gave a shit about him and showed it. I…I never really felt loved and accepted by anyone after my mother died….. except by Drake and Olivia.”

“Liam-“ Drake crossed the room back to his seat.

“So you can imagine how hurtful it was when one of the only two people I fully trusted stabbed me in the back!”

“Goddamn it, Li!” Drake threw the water bottle across the room, “I didn’t mean to stab you in the back, I fell in love!”

“With my girlfriend!” Liam jumped to his feet.

“No, no, that’s revisionist history!” Drake pointed his finger at him, “You two were never really together, and after the coronation-“

“You knew how I felt about her!”

“Okay, okay!” Dr. Bennett stood, holding her arms out between them, “Everyone calm down! Please, sit and let’s resume this discussion in a normal tone of voice.”

Both men glared at each other as they retook their seats.

“I understand that emotions are high and you both feel very strongly about this,” Dr. Bennett said, “But this is good. Leaving this unresolved will cause problems down the road. This is the kind of thing that will explode at the worst possible time. Working it out now so that doesn’t happen, is why we’re here. What I want you to do now is take turns talking. And when one of you is talking, the other one needs to listen! I mean truly listen and try to understand where the other is coming from, not listen just to respond. Can you do that?”

They both shifted their gazes to her and nodded.

“Okay. Liam, you start. Can you tell Drake why you feel so betrayed? And Drake, can you listen without interrupting? You’ll get a turn to talk when he’s done.”

Drake pressed his lips together and nodded as he folded his arms across his chest.

“You were always there for me, you know what my life has been like, Drake. This was the one thing, the only thing I have ever wanted, or asked, for myself! And you took it!”

“Maybe that’s the problem, Li. Maybe you only want her because you can’t have her.”

“What?”

“You didn’t lift a finger to help clear her name. And if it hadn’t been, you were planning to go through with marrying Madeleine! I never heard you call her the love of your life until she was engaged to me!”

“I couldn’t be open about my feelings before and you know that!”

“If I may…” Dr. Bennett interrupted. She waited for Liam to acquiesce then went on, “Riley is a human being with thoughts and feelings of her own. Drake didn’t make her fall in love with him. If she hadn’t returned his feelings, how he felt wouldn’t have mattered. She had a choice to make and she made it. You understand that, right?”

“I….” Liam slumped in his chair, “Yes.”

“Are you angry with Riley?”

“What?” He blinked at her.

“I see a lot of anger and blame directed at Drake, but you’ve just stated that you understand it was Riley’s choice to make. Are you angry at her for choosing Drake and not you?”

“I…I don’t want to be mad at her…”

“And why is that?”

“Because I love her, and it hurts to be mad at her! Blaming her makes it feel more real that she didn’t choose me! It…. it’s easier to blame Drake.”

Shit.

“That’s quite an insight, Liam,” Dr. Bennett said, “What do you think it means?”

“That I’m putting all of the blame on Drake so I don’t have to place any on her….or on myself.”

“Maybe it’s time you and Riley have a discussion about that,” Dr. Bennett suggested, “Shall we schedule a time for that?”

Riley x Liam

“I do love you, Liam.” Riley sat in the chair across from him, the one Drake had occupied the day before. Her hands were clasped in her lap and her eyes were locked on them.

“But you’re not in love with me, I know.” Liam sighed.

“I….” Riley’s eyes went to the doctor as if looking for permission for something.

Dr. Bennett nodded, “Whatever it is, it’s okay to say it. He’s just looking for the truth, whatever that is. He can’t move on without it.”

Riley twisted the fabric of her skirt in her hands as she spoke, “I am in love with you, Liam, just not as in love as I am with Drake.”

“What? So you love me but you just love him more?” Hope and bitterness filled him in equal measure.

She loved him.

Just not enough.

“Yes. And I trust him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I trust him, Liam!” Her hand curled into a fist that she banged on her leg in emphasis.

“And you don’t trust me?”

“Why would I trust you? You hid our relationship for months! You proposed to me then got engaged to another woman five minutes later! You asked me to be your secret side piece! You didn’t lift a goddamned finger to help with the investigation to find Tariq! You didn’t help with the scandal, you actively covered it up once you found out your father was involved! Only after my name was cleared did you propose to me again! Why would I trust you, Liam? Huh? Why?”

“Why did you sleep with me in Vegas?”

“What?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Riley! You chose Drake, you didn’t want me but yet you kept sleeping with me!”

“Not really. Vegas was just-“

“The Statue of Liberty.”

“Excuse me?”

“The night you turned down my proposal we went up in the statue and we had sex!”

“That was goodbye!”

“Obviously not, because Vegas happened! No wonder I’m having such a difficult time moving on, you keep giving me mixed signals!”

“I married another man, Liam! How much clearer could that be?”

“You fucked me two nights before your wedding!”

“I…”

“Why?” He demanded again.

“I…don’t know…”

“That’s a lie. Tell me why…please!”

Riley glanced wildly around at the doctor, at Liam, and then down at her lap again before whispering, “I already said it. Because I still love you.”

Happiness, rage, and disbelief all crashed through Liam’s heart. He raised his tear filled eyes to the doctor, “How am I supposed to move on when I know that she still loves me?”

He loved her, she loved him and it wasn’t enough.

“You sound angry about that,” Dr. Bennett said.

“I am angry about it!”

Shock and confusion hit Riley, “Why are you angry that I love you?”

“I’m not angry that you love me, Riley. I’m angry that you’ve been denying that you love me and that you married another man…and not just any man, but my best fucking friend, knowing that you still had feelings for me! How was that fair to me or to him?”

“My feelings for you didn’t matter because-“

“Of fucking course they mattered, Riley! Your feelings matter!”

“My feelings for you didn’t matter because I chose Drake!”

“Did you choose him in Vegas?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Because you just admitted that you fucking love me, Riley but you never even gave us a chance to work out our issues… You just bailed!”

“I fell in love with someone else!”

“Oh, I’m aware!”

“Liam, Riley,” Dr. Bennett interjected, “The two of you are going to have to co-parent for at least eighteen years. You’re going to have to figure out how to navigate this, for the sake of your child.”

“I know you’re right,” Liam said as he stood, “But I’m going to need some time to process all of ….this.”

“I understand.” Dr. Bennett replied, “Next week?”

“I’ll be here.” He said to the doctor as he shot a reproving look at Riley, then turned and left the room without another word.

“How are you feeling about what just happened?” Dr. Bennett asked.

“Not great,” Riley admitted, “I don’t like hurting him and I just seem to keep doing it.”

“I’m proud of you for reaching deep and admitting your feelings. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t. Just saying it out loud feels like I’m betraying Drake.”

“Speaking of Drake, don’t you think this is something you should tell him?” Dr. Bennett asked softly.

“Oh, no!” Riley looked up at her, eyes wild with panic, “I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because it will destroy him!”

“I think your husband is more resilient than you give him credit for. Obviously, it’s your choice, but what if you don’t tell him, and Liam does? Shouldn’t he hear it from you?”

Riley x Drake

“Oh, thank God!”

She had imagined a lot of reactions from him, but that hadn’t been one of them. “You’re…happy that I still have feelings for Liam?”

“No. Definitely not. But I knew you did, Riley, because I know you! Your denying it is what caused me so much anxiety!”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…..I knew you weren’t being truthful about that, so I thought you weren’t telling me the truth because you regretted choosing me! That you married me because you were mad at him then realized you’d made a mistake.”

“So you don’t care that I still have feelings for another man?” She asked indignantly.

Drake laughed humorlessly, “Of course, I fucking care! It’s my least favorite thing about you, Campbell, and it hurts but knowing the whole truth…that your love for me is stronger, that you trust me, that you actively chose me, not just defaulted to me, that you are still choosing me-“

“I will always choose you!” She sobbed, emotion overwhelming her.

Drake moved to her side and dropped down on his knees in front of her, “We’re supposed to be a team, babe,” he said as he peered up into her face.

“We are a team!”

“What happened to telling each other everything?”

“I’m sorry!” She leaned into his arms as he squatted in front of her, “I didn’t want to hurt you!”

“It hurts me when you don’t trust me. It hurts me when you don’t tell me things. Riley, look at me.”

She lifted her head and moved back a little so she could see his face.

His countenance was as serious as she’d ever seen it as he told her, “I believe we can get through anything. I am willing to work through anything with you, but I can’t work through an issue I’m not aware of. I thought we both learned our lesson about not trusting each other.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

The relief that washed through her was shocking in its intensity. A huge weight had dislodged from her chest. She hadn’t even been aware of how heavy it was until it was gone.

His worst fear had always been that she still loved Liam and that it was just a matter of time until she left him and went back to his best friend, so the news that she still had residual feelings for Liam should have distressed him more.

But he had already known that. He’d always known it was a lie when she denied it. He could read her body language as clearly as words on a printed page.

That worked both ways and he could tell when she was telling the truth. So when she told him that she would always choose him, she meant it, and he believed her.

The last lingering cracks in their relationship knitted back together.

#heir apparent #angelasscribbles #trr au #drake walker #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #drake x mc #drake x riley #trr fanfic

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