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theinnerunderrain · 14 days

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"Venus, planet of love was destroyed by global warming" [Yandere! Emperor x Fem! Princess Reader x Yandere! Empress]

Warnings/tags : Yandere themes, mentions of war and violence, minor character death, historical, coercion, suggestive themes.

Notes: I might write a part 2 for this but it'll be a lot darker and have more suggestive (adult) themes!

The Empress of the Solis Imperium was renowned as the most noble woman on the entire continent.

As a mere princess from a neighboring region, you had the privilege of catching sight of the empress at a few royal occasions. A single meeting was all it took for you to deem her the most noble woman you had ever encountered. Every step she took, every breath she drew, every movement she made exuded nothing but elegance. She was a true epitome of beauty. You were a mere whisper of a presence from a distant land, with no power or wealth to rival hers. So, it was almost inevitable when the Solis Imperium chose to seize your country, the invasion heralded by the clash of swords and gunfire under the dreary cover of a rainy dawn. Startled from sleep, your mother hastily draped an overcoat over your nightgown, her urgent gestures propelling you down the dimly lit hallway.

As you followed closely behind your mother, shouts echoed around you, growing louder with each step. Suddenly, a deafening gunshot pierced the air, and you watched in horror as blood began to seep from your mother's back.

Her startled scream filled the hallway as she crumpled to the floor. Dropping to her side, you tried desperately to help, but before you could do anything, imperial knights caught up to you. Their strong grip tore you away from your wailing mother. You couldn't remember what happened next, only seeing another soldier approach her before darkness enveloped you, the last sound echoing in your mind being your mother's cries.

Upon waking, expecting to find yourself in a dark dungeon surrounded by eerie creatures and chains weighing down your wrists, you were instead greeted by the comfort of a soft bed and the sensation of clean, new clothes against your skin. A maid stood beside your bed, busily preparing a warm cup of tea. As she noticed you were awake, she turned to you with a gentle smile, her expression tender and welcoming.

"Ah, you're awake," she exclaimed softly, a look of relief crossing her face. "I was worried, as the young miss has been asleep for a few days now."

You tried to reply but only managed a soft cough, prompting the maid to hand you the cup of tea. You hesitated, staring at the warm liquid, its bright orange hue inviting yet unfamiliar. Taking a cautious sip, you were pleasantly surprised by its flavor—a delightful blend of grapefruit with a hint of honey.

"It must be delicious! It was recommended by the empress, after all," the maid remarked with a smile, her eyes bright with anticipation of your reaction. You nodded in response, taking another sip and feeling the warmth of the tea soothing your sore throat.

The maid continued speaking, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Ah, perhaps I shouldn't be distracting you so much. Please wait here; I must inform the empress." With that, she hurried out of the room, leaving you alone once more with your thoughts and the weight of the news you had just received.

Before you could stop her to ask more questions, the maid hurriedly left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You stared at the now empty cup of tea, trying to process everything that had just occurred. A war had broken out, your kingdom invaded, your mother attacked, and an imperial knight had apprehended you. Your family, your people, your knights—all gone. They were gone, gone, gone. Your stomach twisted at the thoughts, a wave of nausea rising as if you were about to vomit. Dropping the empty cup of tea into your lap, you buried your head in your hands, overwhelmed by the realization that you might be the only one left alive. The weight of survivor's guilt bore down on you as you thought, "I should have died too."

As the door creaked open, you were startled from your reverie, looking up to behold the empress entering the room. Your eyes widened in awe, but you swiftly composed yourself, offering a slight bow despite your bedridden state.

"Ah, you're awake. I was quite worried for you," the empress remarked, gracefully making her way to sit beside your bed. Her smile was soft yet elegant, accentuating her features. Her mahogany blonde hair was artfully pinned behind her ears, and she was dressed in a flowing pastel gown that emphasized her regal presence. Her piercing blue eyes, filled with concern yet there was an oddness of madness behind them, met yours, and you felt a wave of reassurance wash over you in her presence.

"It must have been shocking to awaken to such violence. I offer my sincere apologies for the loss of your kingdom and family," the empress continued, her voice filled with genuine sympathy.

You couldn't help but feel a wave of sickness wash over you, knowing that she was partially responsible for the decision to invade your land. Despite this, you remained silent, listening to her words. She reached out and gently took hold of your hands, her fingers adorned with a silky white glove.

"Yet, you are still a princess, and we cannot simply discard you like an expendable commoner," the empress said, her tone laced with a mixture of sympathy and detachment.

You wanted to scoff at the irony of her words, to scream and claw at her flawless facade. Her excuses and lies flowed effortlessly, masking the truth with each elegant syllable. If her words held any weight, they would have spared your elder brother, who possessed far more knowledge and capability than you. Yet, they chose to spare you, knowing you lacked the charm, power, or influence to pose any threat.

"Given your tender age, my husband—or the emperor, in this case—has decided to position you as a concubine. Doesn't that sound wonderful?" she asked, her voice laced with a deceptive sweetness. As her thumb tenderly stroked against your palm, the scent of roses invaded your senses.

"Your only responsibility is to produce an heir. Many do not know this, but it is difficult for the emperor and me to conceive."

Your mouth instantly went dry at her words, and you stared at her with wide eyes, your lips parting slightly in disbelief. Yet, her expression remained sweet and unchanging, despite your obvious discomfort.

"Haha, don't stare at me like that. You're acting as if we're sending you to war," she teased, reaching to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. A wave of heat washed over you, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, contrasting with the empress's cold hand against your skin. Your head began to throb, and your limbs felt heavy and weak.

"Ah, the tea must be setting in now," the empress commented, her tone nonchalant as she observed your discomfort.

The tea? The tea that the maid had served you earlier. You realized, with a sinking feeling, that it must have been laced with something to induce this sudden weakness and disorientation. Panic began to rise within you as you struggled to maintain consciousness, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of the situation. The empress gently pushed you back onto the bed until your head rested against the pillow. As she stood up, her beautiful face left a lasting impression in your blurry vision.

"Rest up now, my dear. You have many long days ahead of you," she said, her voice fading as darkness overtook your senses, and you slipped into unconsciousness.

Upon awakening, the gravity of the empress's words became apparent. You were swiftly ushered into a bath, attended by servants who scrubbed your skin and combed your hair with oils. Their ministrations were firm yet gentle, leaving no marks but providing a discomfort that hinted at the magnitude of your new reality. After the bath, you were clothed in a dress of beige hue, its fabric exquisite and embellished with intricate floral patterns and delicate frills. It was a garment of elegance and refinement, a stark contrast to the simple attire of your past, serving as a poignant symbol of the profound changes in your life.

After the servants had prepared you, you were ushered into a grand dining hall to have breakfast with the empress and emperor. You were seated directly across from the empress, her forever sweet smile lighting up the room, while the emperor sat at the head of the table. A lavish spread awaited you, with stacks of food including soup, bread, chicken, and vibrant fruits laid out before you. However, your attention was drawn to the two rulers. It was your first time being in such close proximity to the emperor. In contrast to the empress, his hair was as dark as the night, and his eyes were a soft shade of teal, giving him a more reserved and colder aura compared to the warm presence of the empress. He appeared to be five or six years older than the empress, meaning he was approximately ten years older than you, nearing his forties.

"Princess [First Name]."

The resonant timbre of the emperor's voice momentarily broke your reverie, prompting you to look up at him, your hands instinctively fidgeting with your dress beneath the table.

"I apologize for the delayed greeting, as my duties have demanded much of my time," he began, his tone measured and formal. "Allow me to express my deepest condolences for the tragedy that befell your land. May your family rest in peace."

His words, though seemingly sincere, lacked the warmth and empathy that would have provided true solace. It was evident that his expression of sympathy was more a matter of protocol than genuine compassion for the plight of your small nation. You forced a smile, though it failed to reach the corners of your eyes.

"Ah, thank you so much for your kindness and sincerity," you replied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

You thanked them, though it was for nothing. Certainly not for the loss of your family and people. Not for the seizure of your land and the imposition of a life that felt like being a doll in the hands of a capricious child. The emperor nodded at your words before continuing, delicately cutting into a piece of chicken with a silver fork that appeared to be worth a small fortune.

"You are most welcome. I trust that the empress has explained your duties here within our nation?"

"Yes.."

You replied with a hint of hesitation, savoring a sip of the soup before you. Its delightful flavors and comforting warmth brought to mind the soups your mother used to lovingly prepare for you during times of illness. The emperor appeared pleased with your response, his gaze thoughtful as he studied your face. A small, knowing smile graced his lips before he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Excellent. Then you'll be well prepared for what lies ahead," he remarked, his tone carrying a sense of reassurance or you had hope for it to be reassurance. As he reclined in his chair, the empress's smile remained fixed upon you. Despite your efforts, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of worry seep down your spine as you tried to decipher their expressions, hoping to unveil the true emotions hidden behind their masks. However, their faces revealed no clues, leaving you with a sense of uncertainty.

"We are excited to welcome you. Your duties will officially begin today."

Perhaps this new chapter wouldn't be as dreadful as you had imagined. Maybe, if you were to make a mistake, it would hasten your reunion with your family. On the other hand, serving the emperor and empress might not be so terrible.

At least, that's what you hoped.

However, a strange feeling began to form at the pit of your stomach, planting seeds of doubt within you.

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kaixserzz · 11 months

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Loyal Knight 2

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 8.0k words ┊ Fluff + Angst/comfort *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | Part 1 *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

HI GUYS PART 2!! i accidentally posted part 1 when i haven't finished this LMAOO but it's been like a week since i started this fic SO i just wrote it in one goso :3 no beta this time so i can make my beta reader cry like a bitch, realized that reader is kinda like, maybe yandere? idk they're both obsessed with each other anyways LMAO,, also pls dottore rqs <3... WHY DID IS THIS LONGER THAN I EXPCTED NOOOOOO FUCK!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: canon typical violence, basic dottore warnings, injuries, blood, mentions of lots of scars, experiments, and death, dottore and reader r both crazy, obsessiveness/possessiveness from both parties, dottore hits reader ONCE dw it's just to snap reader out of their shit, uhh relationship fights? LMAO idk cant have a relationship w/o errors amirite, cyro vision reader, dark humor cuz... dottore, also kinda suggestive at the end?? nothing happened, just... biting cuz its dottore LMAOO

iv. guilt

Zandik paid little heed to the Archons, celestial beings overseeing Teyvat, and the so-called 'blessings' they bestowed. His interest lay solely in their power, particularly the enigmatic artifact known as the 'Gnosis'. Apart from that, little else piqued his curiosity.

But Zandik held a particular disdain for your Vision above all others. The sight of your Vision alone was enough to sour Zandik's mood, and he preferred if you refrained from using it altogether.

It served as a constant reminder of the day he had made a grave mistake. It wasn't intentional, he hadn't meant for you to get hurt that bad. He hadn't expected it. It wasn't part of his calculations. It was his fault.

Your Vision, which you proudly wielded with joy, became a source of suffocating resentment and guilt for that day. Not that he'll admit that to you.

The sight of blood never bothered Zandik. Not one bit. Acquiring blood samples, blood dripping down his skin from his injuries, and the knowledge of blood pumping throughout his body. Yet when you lay in his arms that day, blood uncontrollably poured from the gash on your side, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dizziness wash over him.

During a routine exploration in one of the ruins you discovered, a dormant Ruin Guard unexpectedly activated and set its sights on Zandik. Despite your years of experience in combat, a ruin guard was still tiered above your capabilities.

But deep down, Zandik couldn't shake off the suspicion that the gods had shown favoritism towards you. In a miraculous turn of events, he was suddenly propelled away from the Ruin Guard's line of sight, shielded by a frigid burst of ice. The Archons had bestowed upon you the power of the Cryo Vision, recognizing your unwavering determination to protect Zandik.

With Zandik's swift actions and your valiant efforts to distract the Ruin Guard, it was eventually deactivated. However, you didn't emerge from the encounter unscathed. The new ability granted to you by your Vision proved to be uncontrollable, you had no idea how to utilize it just yet. The Ruin Guard easily overpowered you, tossing you aside as if you were nothing more than a lifeless ragdoll.

And the moment Zandik ran towards your body, barely breathing with blood soaking your clothes, he knew that he hated your Vision more than anything.

Your body was deathly cold, and Zandik couldn't tell if it was due to your Vision, or if you were already dead.

Amidst the days you spent in slumber, Zandik dedicated himself to your care. His once meticulously organized scrolls and project documentation were discarded and replaced by books on human biology, medicine, and recovery. His focus shifted to gathering various herbs and medical supplies to aid in your healing process.

Your wound was above his medical knowledge, but Zandik adamantly refused to hand you over to those who could provide immediate help. He understood the consequences you both would face if your activities were discovered. Nonetheless, he took it upon himself to do everything he could to aid in your recovery and ensure your well-being.

Zandik couldn't comprehend his own reaction to your injury. He believed it should be trivial for someone as resilient as you. If you were awake, you would scoff at the wound and dismiss it with laughter. But his emotions betrayed him, tightening his chest and filling his mind with doubts. Could he truly heal you? Would you recover completely? When did he start doubting his own abilities? After all, he was a genius, capable of restoring you to your previous state of health. Yet, the uncertainty persisted, tormenting his thoughts and weighing heavily on his heart.

His usual composed demeanor shattered in the presence of your injured form. The sight of you so vulnerable and still, coupled with the weight of his own uncertainty, caused his hands to tremble uncontrollably. Each time he whispered your name, his voice carried a mixture of fear and longing, hoping for any sign of response from you. Countless sleepless nights were spent tirelessly monitoring your vital signs, studying medical techniques, and seeking ways to aid in your recovery. The touch of his fingertips against your skin evoked a cascade of emotions within him, causing his bottom lip to quiver and his eyes to burn with unshed tears. The intensity of his feelings threatened to choke his breath, leaving him grappling with a vulnerability he had never anticipated.

In those moments when Zandik tended to your wounds, his heart clenched with a mixture of concern and fear. The touch of your cold skin sent a shiver down his spine, stirring an unsettling realization within him. Despite his intellect and knowledge, he couldn't help but question if you were still among the living. The fear that you might slip away from him haunted his thoughts, yet he couldn't bring himself to voice this deep-seated worry. Instead, he masked it with a determined focus on finding ways to restore warmth and vitality to your body, desperate to dispel the icy touch that threatened to consume you.

The surge of unfamiliar emotions within Zandik puzzled him. He had never experienced such feelings before, and it unsettled him. This vulnerability, this concern for another's well-being, was entirely new territory for him. It was a revelation that challenged his perception of himself. Zandik realized that he was capable of caring deeply for someone— you, despite his initial reluctance to acknowledge it.

Perhaps the cold has comforted you into a peaceful slumber, but it only reminded him how awful it was to feel your body so cold in comparison to his warmth.

"Hey,"

Your voice brought Zandik back to reality, and his gaze was drawn to your shirtless figure. It had been a month since the incident and a few weeks since you woke up. Standing before a mirror, you examined the new scar that adorned your body. The intensity of his stare was palpable, fixated not only on the scar but also on the Vision hanging from your waist, below the prominent mark.

"If it grosses you out that much, just tell me. No need to stare at it," You jest with faux annoyance in your tone, yet it was only met with silence from him. It was odd for Zandik to act so out of character ever since you've woken up.

The dorm was in disarray, with unwashed dishes, scattered books, and trash strewn about. You reluctantly remarked that you weren't looking forward to cleaning all of it, but to your surprise, Zandik took it upon himself to clean the mess. You expressed your gratitude and told him he didn't have to do it, considering how he had been taking care of you've since you woken up.

But he just told you to lay back on your bed and rest. To not even think about going outside your shared dorm, or lay a single finger on your sword. You were going to rest, and his words were final. Well, you weren't going to argue with that (his cooking was pretty bad though, it almost sent you back into a comatose).

Seeing how unsettled he was when you first opened your eyes, constantly checking on you and ensuring your wound was clean, you knew he was genuinely concerned. It touched your heart to see his care, and you couldn't bear to see him so down.

You took in a deep, confident breath, walked towards him, and smacked his head with your hand. Zandik let out an outraged cry, his glare that you missed so much was immediately on your smiling face. "Now now, don't be so down! I'm okay now!" Taking your sword out of its scabbard, you did a few swings and didn't feel any sort of pain at all. "You brought me back in perfect condition all thanks to your hard work and medicinal expertise! Sure, I may have gotten a scar, and I'm pretty sure you hate my Vision too,"

You blew a gust of cold wind onto his face, covering it with a thin sheet of snow. Zandik was quick to wipe it off, about to yell at you, but was cut off when you let out a lively laugh; one that he missed hearing once more in all those days you were asleep, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Instead of thinking about what happened in the ruins, just think of me! When you get cold, or see ice and snow, just think of me, and how I'll use my vision to protect you!"

Zandik silently wished you obtained the Pyro Vision instead. Then at least, it would've had warmth. The warmth that you had lacked during the days you were asleep, and the warmth that radiated from you whenever you smiled at him.

But you were content with your Cyro Vision, and so he should be too.

With a huff, he pushed your hand off his shoulder. Zandik's voice dripped with cold disdain as he uttered, "Don't be foolish. My actions were solely driven by self-interest. You're nothing more than a valuable asset to me, and I ensured your survival for my own benefit." However, a fleeting glimpse of genuine concern flashed in his eyes, betraying the facade of indifference he desperately clung to.

Your grin only widened, laughing wholeheartedly as you watched him escape, too embarrassed to stay in the same vicinity as you. "There's my Zandik." And you release a breath of relief.

The icy tendrils of his past failure and guilt were momentarily overtaken by memories of you. The sound of your laughter as you pelted him with a massive snowball, your smile when you playfully blow cool air onto his way when he complains it was too hot, and the deadly sheets of ice you conjured to aid in battle.

Somehow, the tingles he felt from your frosted fingertips were better than any warmth fire could bring.

v. realization

But the bitter chill also served as a constant reminder of the emptiness that consumed him when you weren't by his side.

A year had passed since the last he saw you.

Il Dottore remained in the dark about your whereabouts and current status. In the past, whenever you embarked on a mission, you would often find excuses to report back to him, just to have the opportunity to hear his voice, even from miles away. But now, the silence was deafening, and the absence of your updates gnawed at his heart.

You couldn't have died; Dottore was well aware of your immense strength. You were capable of battling on equal footing with Teyvat's mightiest individual, Il Capitano. Moreover, Dottore had made several modifications to your body, ensuring that death would be the least of your concerns. The notion of an enemy overpowering or eliminating you was simply inconceivable. Therefore, the only logical conclusion Dottore could come up with was that you willingly chose to depart from his side.

Il Dottore was well aware that you had left him. Your absence was palpable in the emptiness of your room, void of your presence, devoid of your clothing and your sword. It resembled the stark emptiness you met when you first arrived and were assigned your chamber within the Fatui. The tracker that you've willing injected into your skin was left on your desk, covered in dried blood.

Yes. You decided to leave him. The person who has promised to stay by his side no matter what, even if it meant venturing into the darkest recesses of the Abyss. The one who professed love for him, and whose gentle caresses would convey nothing but adoration in their eyes. You had promised nothing but loyalty, and he believed, trusted you because he knew it was genuine. You had always been truthful and obedient, never desiring to cause him any displeasure.

So why, pray tell, did you have the audacity to leave him after spending an entire century with him? Was it all in vain? Why did you choose to squander such a substantial amount of his time? Did every word that spilled out of your impudent mouth held no true meaning?

You were the one who sought him out. You willingly became an integral part of his life, unwaveringly remaining by his side and causing him both joy and turmoil. You've forcefully intertwined your life with his, so it should be his choice to leave, not yours! That's unfair of you to him.

You, claiming to be his loyal knight until your final moments, turned out to be nothing more than a falsehood. It is only now that Dottore realizes the absurdity of such a belief. You deceived him with your lies. Every promise you made was built upon a foundation of deceit. Why did you choose to betray him? Just why?

Why why why why why!?

It was unbearably cool in his personal office. The biting cold seemed to pierce through his skin, despite his body being engineered to no longer perceive temperature sensations. And yet when he walks toward his laboratory, watching the earliest versions of his segments doing their work without you in sight— he could feel his skin crawl and burn as if he was frostbitten. The sight of endless snow outside only added to the chilling atmosphere, intensifying his feelings since your departure.

"Instead of thinking about what happened in the ruins, just think of me! When you get cold, or see ice and snow, just think of me, and how I'll use my vision to protect you!"

The cold indeed reminded him of you, and in the depths of his despair, Dottore yearned for nothing than to watch his surroundings ablaze just to escape the icy pain that clawed his heart.

Dottore longs for the ability to erase your memory from his mind, desiring to rid himself of the emotions that you have stirred within him. These emotions, which he finds to be a hinderance, have tied his stomach into knots and inflicted a pain in his heart that only your absence could evoke.

Yet, deep down, Dottore couldn't shake the feeling that you wouldn't be able to stay away from him for long. Just like him, you had spent a significant portion of your lives together. You 'loved' him, after all. He was the center of your world.

Therefore, it didn't come as a surprise to Dottore when he found you standing in his chambers once again, your presence both familiar and fazing. You stood there with an air of patience, positioned by the edge of his untouched bed, as if you had been waiting for him all along.

Dottore observed you silently, noting the somber expression that etched your face, your lips pressed into a thin line. Your eyes, once vibrant with a spark, now seemed dull and devoid of their usual radiance. You kept your stare fixed on the ground, avoiding direct eye contact with him, a clear sign of guilt. A quick glance was enough for him to discern the toll your year-long disappearance had taken on you. Your hair appeared disheveled, evidence of neglect, and the presence of bags under your eyes spoke of sleepless nights. Moreover, he observed that you appeared noticeably thinner, as if the weight of your absence had physically worn you down.

As Dottore's gaze lingered upon you, he noticed a subtle tremble in the hand that rested atop the hilt of your sword. It was a nervous gesture, as if you were apprehensive about confronting him, despite having returned to the Fatui for his sake. Cold sweat trickled down your nose, evidence of the tension that filled the air. He observed as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip, a sign of inner turmoil and unease.

Dottore scowled at your unexpected intrusion, his features contorting with displeasure. Crossing his arms, he assumed a facade of nonchalance, choosing to channel his simmering anger rather than acknowledge the concern he secretly harbored. "Well, well, look who decided to grace me with their presence again," Dottore sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. With an air of authority, he strode purposefully towards you, his steps brimming with an unspoken power. "It seems you've reappeared, after vanishing without so much as a word."

His words seemed to cause you to crumble further, evident by the way you gritted your teeth in discomfort. It took multiple attempts before you could finally open your mouth to speak, your voice strained. "Dottore, I... I didn't mean to cause you any pain. I had my reasons for leaving," you managed to say, your grip tightening on the hilt of your sword.

He recognized it as a telltale sign of your extreme unease, a habit you developed when confronted with uncomfortable situations. The realization he still remembers small habits of yours only fueled his anger, and he shot you a withering glare in response.

Dottore scoffed dismissively, rolling his eyes in a display of derision. "How bold of you to assume that your disappearance caused any pain. You were merely an inconsequential cog in the machinery of the Fatui, and your little stunt only added more irrelevant work to my already burdened table," He retorted, his tone laced with sarcasm.

The sting of his words caused you to wince, feeling the weight of his disdain. "I'm sure you had your reasons," He continued, with a roll of his eyes. "Reasons to be such an inconvenience."

"I thought... I thought it was for the best..." You whisper to yourself, but Dottore heard it loud and clear. A momentary pause ensued as he processed the ridiculousness of your admission.

Dottore's voice grew colder as he responded, his words laced with anger and hurt. "Best for whom, may I ask? Certainly not for me," He retorted sharply. "You think you can just waltz back into my life after all this time and expect everything to be as it was? Well, I assure you, it won't be."

Finally, you summoned the strength to straighten yourself, meeting Dottore's gaze with determination in your eyes. Your hands clenched into fists, revealing the intensity of your emotions. Softly, with the deepest sincerity resonating in your voice, you spoke from the depths of your heart. "No, I don't expect things to be as they were. But I... I miss you, Dottore. I miss being by your side, even if it means facing your anger."

Though, it invoked the opposite reaction you had hoped for.

Even if Dottore had begun to wear a mask, his glare pierces through the material, sending shivers down your spine. Sensing the growing intensity of his anger, you instinctively took a step back. His anger now seemed more potent than anything you had witnessed from him in the past years, intensifying the tension in the room.

"How. Dare. You." With each word, a sharp blade pierced your heart. "How dare you say that after leaving without a word? After spouting promise after promise that you'll always stay by my side?"

You swallowed down the heavy guilt as you looked away from him once more. It was getting harder not to cry in front of him.

"How dare you lie to me?" The words you once spoke, filled with promises and loyalty, were now exposed as empty falsities. The realization of being deceived gnawed at his core, deepening the resentment within him. "Making me believe your worthless vows and wasting my time? I knew you were up to no good from the moment you decided to become my 'friend'," A sarcastic laugh escaped his lips, dripping with scorn. "You liar."

As Dottore turned away from you, ready to leave, panic surged within you. Desperate to salvage the situation, you reached out towards him, "W-wait, Dottore, please! I can explain!"

"What is there to explain?" His voice carried a bitter edge, gaze hardening as he looked back at you. "Clearly, there is nothing more to clarify with your obvious betrayal." His mind had already made up its verdict, leaving little room for further explanation or justification in his eyes.

"Please, Zandik—"

"Zandik is dead!"

In a sudden burst of anger and frustration, Dottore slammed his fist against the wall, catching you off guard and silencing you instantly. The force behind his action was both startling and alarming, as Dottore had never directed such aggression towards you before. His usual demeanor consisted of light annoyance or a gentle scolding whenever you were about to make a stupid decision.

But this display was different—it spoke volumes about the depth of his hurt and anger. It was clear that he was more wounded than he was willing to admit, and the ache in your own heart mirrored his pain.

"Zandik is no more," He faced you again, this time, with his chin up. A condescending gaze set upon your anxious form, as if you were nothing but one of the mere hundreds of the Fatui soldiers that serve under his name. "There is only Il Dottore, the 2nd of the Fatui Harbingers. You are to speak with me with nothing but respect." He spat. "Do you understand?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Throughout your life, you had served Dottore faithfully, dedicating yourself to his cause. While he had spoken to you with a similar tone in the past, this instance felt markedly different. The force of his words seemed to carry the weight of his power, suffocating and overwhelming.

It was as if the pedestal on which you had placed him had crumbled, revealing a darker side that left you shaken to your core. A side that Dottore would've never shown you if hadn't acted rashly. At that moment, you couldn't help but empathize with the countless soldiers who had felt the brunt of his authority.

"My command over you is absolute," Dottore declared with unwavering finality, his scowl revealing the sharp edges of his teeth. "You are to leave and never return. Now." His words hung in the air like an unbreakable decree, leaving no room for negotiation or reconsideration. The power he held over you was palpable, an undeniable reminder of the hierarchy that governed your relationship.

You stood there, dumbfounded, managing with the shock of his words. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in, leaving you suspended in a state of disbelief. The weight of his decision bore down on you, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed.

His hand reached for the handle of his door, "I am giving you a chance. Do not put it to waste. Leave, before the Tsaritsa herself bestow you her punishment for your betrayal."

A sudden loud thump from behind Dottore made him pause, his attention shifting to the source of the sound. He could hear your shaky breaths and faint sniffles, struggling to form the words that clung at the back of your throat.

Dottore's instinct urged him to turn away, to escape the burden of your words and the sight of your wretched state. Every fiber of his being resisted the pull to stay and listen, to confront the emotions that threatened to entangle him further. Yet, there was a flicker of hesitation within him, a battle raging in his mind between the desire to leave and the nagging curiosity that lingered. A fleeting moment of uncertainty held him in place, suspended between the need to continue with his work and the possibility of facing the depths of your anguish.

It could be more of your lies, Dottore argued to himself. He refused to be a fool once more toward you. And yet...

"I'm so sorry Dottore... I.... I-I just felt so alone..." You started, attempting to quell your tears and wiping them off with your hands. "Ever since we joined the Fatui, you've barely had the time for yourself... Sure, we're now to the point that we don't have to eat, or sleep but... It was always work— since when did we last spend time together?"

The notion of necessity echoed in his mind, provoking questions that had long been suppressed. How could this sudden discontentment emerge after a century of unwavering dedication? You had been instrumental in carrying out his missions, assisting in his projects, and even co-creating the segments alongside him. When did it all begin to matter? Dottore hardened his gaze onto the door before him, refusing to face you.

"If you were lonely, you could've spoken to the segments instead. You know how busy I am."

You let out a small, weak, humorless laugh. "Yeah, well, they're not complete, remember?"

Dottore frowned at that, "What do you mean?"

"You removed their memories of me because... Well, you said that I was distracting..." You reminded him, a sad smile on your face. "I took it as a compliment back then. Even if I tried to talk to them... They'll just ignore me and look at me as if I'm a stranger... Funny because you do the same thing..."

Ah, yes. He did do that. Right, it was the main reason why the segments were so efficient with their work. It made him realize how much you were a hindrance to his progress. A distraction that causes him to feel unwanted emotions and urges, indulging in senseless activities like you once had when you were both younger...

It annoyed him how it seemed his make his heart clench at those memories.

"I'm not suited to be your knight anymore, not when I have little use for you now." That made him turn his head to look at you, only to see you on your knees, trembling and holding back yourself from sobbing, to continue speaking before he stops listening. "I... The Fatui can give you everything you need now... You have soldiers working for you, even the segments! Sure, you send me into missions and tell me I'm still useful but..."

Your words hung into the air, your bottom lip quivered as you forced yourself to continue. "I couldn't even protect you from that." Your eyes glanced to the mask he wore, and he immediately knew what you were talking about.

His hand went underneath his mask, the feeling of the deep, jagged scars that has healed over time through his gloves disgusts him. The scar on his face was something he deeply abhorred, but he never blamed you for it.

"I promised to protect you, and yet... I let that happen..." Your voice quivered with a mix of despair and frustration, tears staining the cold tile floor beneath you.

The mention of his scar, a symbol of his vulnerability and pain, struck a chord within both of you. Your teeth clenched, and your gaze remained fixed on the floor, burning with a mixture of self-loathing and anguish. The raw honesty in your words reverberated through the room, casting shadows of doubt upon the promises that had once bound you together.

The mask he wore, the facade that shielded his true emotions, served as a constant reminder of your perceived shortcomings and the unfulfilled expectations you had placed upon yourself.

"What kind of knight am I? I know how much you hate that scar— and I hate the fact that I could've prevented it!" You cried, "I hate seeing your mask, because it just reminds me that I'm a failure that couldn't uphold their promises!"

...Just like the deep-rooted resentment Dottore harbored towards your Vision, you found yourself consumed by an equal loathing for his mask. It was a peculiar parallel, where two individuals were constantly reminded of their own failures in the presence of one another.

As the silence stretched on, punctuated only by your inconsolable sobs, Dottore's demeanor remained unreadable. His lips pressed into a thin line, his expression an enigmatic mask. The absence of any immediate reaction from him fueled your misery, increasing the uncertainty of his true feelings.

At that moment, you yearned for a glimmer of understanding, a sign that he cared or acknowledged your pain. But the void of his response deepened the ache within you, amplifying the sense of loneliness and despair.

"I love you, I really do! There's nothing in this world that could ever stop me from loving you." You professed loudly, hoping to reach him, "From our childhood, to the Akademiya and joining here at the Fatui, my heart has undoubtedly belonged to you! You think I did all of that for nothing?"

"And when you accepted my feelings, I was so happy!" You hung your head low, trying to talk through hiccups and sobs. You couldn't stop your tears even if you wanted to. "But I know that Zandik loved me more than Il Dottore ever has." The pain in your voice as you utter your words made Dottore's poise for a moment, "I don't even know if Il Dottore loves me..."

Your words struck him harder than he liked. It was an absurd statement. His past self? Loving you more than him? It doesn't make sense.

But as he watched you sob, he couldn't help but wonder if his feelings for you were genuine or merely a facade he had constructed to maintain control over you.

Did he truly love you, or was it just an illusion he had allowed himself to indulge to keep you in check? You were the one to confessed to him, and love is such a foreign concept to Dottore. The thought haunted him, unraveling the carefully constructed walls around his heart and exposing a raw and uncertain truth.

"The day Zandik died was I guess the day your love for me died." You managed a weak laugh. A laugh to shake away your pain, yet so sad and dull. Your laugh shouldn't sound like that. He hated it.

Was he the reason for it as well?

"I tried to move on because I knew you can... But I just couldn't..." You whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself for comfort. Your voice trembled with emotion as you continued, "I can't stand being away from you, I can't bear not being able to hear your voice, to see you, to be with you." You look up at him with tearful eyes, broken and full of regret.

"Please... give me one more chance," You pleaded, your voice filled with desperation. The tears streamed down your face, but determination shone through your eyes. "I won't complain anymore, I won't ask for anything... I'll accept you give me. I'll be your loyal and dedicated assistant, always by your side!"

In the midst of your cries, Dottore has stumbled upon a realization.

The cold, snow, and ice became incessant reminders of you, and it annoyed him to no end. As the days turned into months during your disappearance, his agitation grew, fueled by a mix of anger and longing that he couldn't quite suppress. He continued to send search parties after you, under the pretense of seeking revenge for your betrayal, but deep down, he knew there was more to it. Beneath the facade of vengeance, a part of him yearned for your return, unable to ignore the void you had left behind.

After all those times, did he simply miss you?

Even after you left, his hand would unconsciously reach out, longing for your presence beside him. Dottore found himself expecting to see you around every corner, only to be greeted by the stark emptiness of his laboratory, which he had never truly noticed until your absence. The flavors and aromas of the dishes you used to cook for him lingered in the air, teasing his senses with memories.

The familiar tunes you hummed while working echoed in his mind, and the pleasant chatter that once served as background noise now felt like a void in his ears.

Your absence had woven itself into the fabric of his daily life, leaving behind a profound emptiness that he struggled to fill.

He could vividly recall the echoes of those emotions from his time at the Akademiya when you were obligated to attend classes. Dottore— Zandik would insist that you not waste your time with mundane lectures when you could be assisting him in his groundbreaking projects.

He would nag you, trying to convince you to prioritize his work over your studies, much to your amusement. The memory of your laughter at his feeble excuses and playful banter warmed his heart, reminding him of the deep bond you shared.

Dottore's gaze remained fixed on your trembling figure, your hands tightly balled into fists. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. The fear of facing how he truly feels held you back.

Another realization was drawn to him.

He had always admired your resilience, your ability to endure even the harshest of circumstances without shedding a tear. It both intrigued and frustrated him, for he had never quite understood the source of your inner strength. As children, he had witnessed you gritting your teeth and smiling through injuries, embracing the pain as a catalyst for your determination. It was a quality that set you apart, that made you formidable.

Was this pain different then? There was no physical damage on your body, and yet you were here. You were one of the strongest people he has ever known, but you were on your knees, breaking down in tears and pathetically begging for his forgiveness.

His chest felt unbearable tight, seeing you so weak, so vulnerable. The image clashed with the image he had of you in his mind—strong, resilient, and always composed. Seeing you in such a state shattered his perception of your unwavering strength. Between the two of you, you were more emotional than him. But for you to grovel to his feet? It was something he'd never thought he'd ever see.

Oh, how easy for him to just kick you. To toss you on the ground as if you were nothing, and he knew you'd take it rather than fighting back and hurt him.

How come you'd never lay a hand on him? To make him feel the pain he knew a sinner like him deserves? When he has hurt you more than he could have ever known? You were suffering in silence since you only wanted to please him, to never bother him, and yet he was only ignorant to the signs, even if they're growing more and more obvious.

Your patience seemed endless when it came to him, doing everything you could do for him; exploring the most dangerous locations of Teyvat, piling bodies after bodies for his sake, and following every single command he gives you. Only for a mere hum of acknowledgement, a small smile, or nothing at all from him.

Has he shown any sort of gratitude toward you? You loved him so unconditionally, and you get little to none in return. Dottore couldn't even offer you the bare minimum.

You've always been like that, doing everything he says just to please him, to be of service, to be by his side. A massive flaw that he was well aware of ever since you were young.

Dottore wasn't even sure if the two of you were in a romantic relationship. It seemed so one-sided now that he looked back into his memories, even more so ever since the both of you joined the Fatui...

Forgiveness shouldn't be earned by a mere apology. You'd have to work for it, suffer the consequences of your misdemeanor, and he will grant you another chance. That's how it should be, how Dottore wanted it to be.

And yet, when you rose your head to look at him, nothing but remorse and resignation in your face... He couldn't bring himself to— not when he should be the one apologizing to you.

"You... you don't have to love me back..." You say quietly, snapping Dottore's attention back to you. "I-I promise... It was selfish of me to just walk out— punish me, I don't care! Just take me back, please—"

A resounding smack reverberated through the room, cutting you off. You recoil from the slap that landed on your cheek, you squeezed your eyes shut as your skin throbbed from the pain. You bit your tongue to silence yourself.

Dottore slowly got down to his knees right in front of you. As much as he didn't want to hurt you, he needed you to get your shit back together. This wasn't you. Or at least, this was a side of you that he has never seen, nor meant for his eyes. It didn't feel right to see you trembling before him, to be so afraid.

"You should have never came back." He heard you take in a sharp inhale, yet your eyes remained shut, too uncertain, too scared to look at him in the eye. "It would've been better for you to leave me." Your brow furrowed at his words.

He knew that you loved him for who he was. You probably knew him more than he knew himself, but could he say the same for you? Even if the answer was no, if Dottore should stay the same, not changing himself after this occurrence, he knows that you'd still love him.

Slipping off the gloves that he has always worn, and the mask that he had recently adorned, his hands reached for your face. Hesitantly, he cupped your cheeks into his hands. Your eyes snapped open as you jerked back from his touch. You seemed more shocked that he attempted to fondly hold you rather than hit you.

It stirred unexplainable emotions in his chest... Emotions that he'd rather not experience more, and a bitter taste settling on his tongue. He tried again, unsure if he was doing it correctly. Your discomfort didn't help either.

Dottore has never been honest on how he truly felt. He didn't even know what he felt half the time, mostly because he had only felt them with you. These emotions, these feelings, joy, anger, sadness, loneliness, and perhaps love; if it wasn't for you, he would've never known how it feels to be... more than the freak that people has entitled him to be. More than a heretic or a mad scientist. You had always treated him as if he was a person worth of your love and affections.

He should've been more honest.

"You... are worth more..." Your eyes widened at the words he spoke, "Worth more than I could ever admit... All your efforts, warmth... They have gone unnoticed... Ignored..."

"Zan- Dottore..." He could feel you shaking against his bare hands, the texture of your skin, the curve of your cheeks, he could feel them now. His hands tingled in a way he has never felt before, pulling you closer to him.

He wishes that you called him Zandik instead.

"You are nothing in comparison to all the achievements that I have accomplished. You are annoying, loud, and always stirring up trouble in my laboratory... And yet, during your disappearance..."

He shouldn't have turned a blind eye in everything you have done for him.

There were a lot of things he wanted to say, things he knew you needed to desperately hear, but they got stuck in his throat. Dottore has never been honest, it was easier to ignore it than confront things that were unknown. How ironic, given that he was a scientist that always pursued the unknown.

Nonetheless, you understood. You always did. He needn't speak for you to get him.

Dottore could've claimed that he reached to this point all on his own, with his unparalleled genius and dedication. But undoubtedly, you were there throughout his whole life, from his brightest days and past all his hardships. You've supported him more than anyone else.

And he made another mistake; letting you believe that you're nothing to him. That he doesn't love you, and that you were merely just a tool. No, that's not true. Not when his heart, his cold, dead heart, could only beat for you, and that without you, he was incomplete as you are. Lost, and lonely.

"I realized that fact too late..." Dottore closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours. You couldn't help but let out a sob, your heart pounding against your chest at the sudden honesty he was pouring onto you. Oh how long you've yearned for this moment, it made you tremble.

It was quiet, below a whisper that Dottore wasn't sure if you heard it... But for you, it was loud and clear, his words repeating again and again inside your head.

"I..."

vi. devotion

"What took you so long?"

As you step foot into his office, barely making it past the threshold, he already hit you a question with the most accusing tone ever. However, you respond with a genuine, warm smile, immediately feeling a sense of familiarity despite his prickly demeanor. Playfully, you quip, "Six months away on a mission, and this is the welcome I receive, babe?"

Dottore responded with a scoff and a roll of his eyes, a scowl forming on his lips, one that you've grown so in love with. His gaze fixated on your disheveled appearance, taking in the swollen state of your lips, the trickle of blood staining your chin, and the messy opening of your collar, revealing a mosaic of red and purple marks adorning your collarbones and neck. His scowl only deepened upon witnessing the spectacle, and even behind his mask, you could sense the piercing daggers of his glare aimed directly at you.

"I received news of your arrival hours ago, and yet you decided to take your sweet time before gracing my office with your presence?" He ceased his writing and put his pen down on his desk. Oooo, he's serious.

"Awww, miss me so much, you keep up to date on everything I do?" You cooed at him teasingly at him and decided to push his papers to the side and sit on his desk, directly in front of him. He chose to ignore your remark.

"What were you doing?" He asked, more inquisitive this time, leaning towards you. You responded with a playful gesture, pursing your lips in a thoughtful manner, feigning deep contemplation over the endeavors you had undoubtedly embarked upon your return.

Just by this, he already seemed unimpressed.

"Oh, you know, I passed by some cuties to your office, so I decided to have some fun!" You smirked when he crossed his arms, his scowl deepened when you pointed at the red marks all over you. It was as if a bunch of sharks had decided to latch onto your skin and bite you.

"So you cheated on me." He bluntly stated. "Again."

You gave him an incredulous look as you let out an overexaggerated gasp. "Oh my darling! I would never think of cheating with you!" You dramatically cried out, "You'd cut me up to pieces and put my parts in individual jars up for display!"

A faint twitch appeared at the corners of Dottore's lips and you swiftly abandoned your playful facade. "Hey," You pouted, your voice tinged with a hint of warning, "Don't get any ideas. I don't like that look on your face."

Dottore's scowl suddenly transformed into a wide grin, revealing the sharp teeth that you've always adored. "Well, my dear, if you were preserved in a jar, at least I would have the assurance that you'd remain there, looking exquisitely beautiful for me, without any possibility of you straying." He playfully remarked, his words laced with a hint of possessiveness that you couldn't help but find endearing.

You bark out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s morbid, love.” He tutted at that and let out a small ‘hmph!’ in disappointment. He’s so cute. “Besides, I’m not cheating!”

“They are segments.” Dottore deadpanned, his scowl returning to his face, but you could tell it was in a much playful manner.

You raise a brow at that, “Uh, segments of you. Designed after you. They think like you. They are literally you, but just a specific age, ‘cuz you’re crazy like that.”

"But they could never compare to the real deal," Dottore persisted, his voice carrying a hint of seriousness. "The true original. The one who created all of them," He declared, pointing confidently at himself, and you almost imploded trying to hold back your laughter.

“I’m sorry, babe, I couldn’t help myself.” You cooed, sliding off his desk and decided to make yourself comfortable on his lap instead, “They’re irresistible.” Dottore looked extremely disappointed at you, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He held nothing but disdain at the sight of the marks on your neck.

“Yes, so much, so you let them bite you all over.”

“They missed me. They only bite because it’s a trait of yours.”

“You have no evidence of this so-called trait of mine.”

“Babe, you for real?” Before you could say another word, Dottore seized you by the collar and pressed his lips against yours with an insatiable hunger. The force of the kiss left you breathless, a testament to the months he had spent yearning for your presence, and you decide to kiss his segments before him? The one you’ve known the longest? He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, and before you got yourself lost against his lips, he bit your bottom lip. Hard.

“Ah, fuck!” You cursed out loud, furrowing your brow at the big bruise on your lips. It tasted raw, the fragile skin easily broken with his sharp teeth. More blood dribbled down your chin as you stared at him, your turn to look so unimpressed. “No evidence, my ass! Stop biting so hard, I’m going to die of blood loss.”

Dottore looked so proud of himself, smirking at you. “I have no idea what you are talking about, my dearest.”

You could only scoff when he licked his lips, definitely enjoying the taste of your blood. “Maybe if you were more honest, then I’d stop making out the segments behind your back.” That seemed to pique his interest, his expression reflecting an internal struggle as he debated whether to succumb to your obvious attempt at manipulation.

"I'm sorry, dear, I love you."

"See," You grin at yourself. "It's not so hard now, is it?"

Years had passed since that one intense confrontation, yet Dottore still struggled to openly express his deepest emotions, but you had come to accept it as a part of who he was. It didn't pose a significant problem for you, as you understood his unique way of conveying love. In his own enigmatic manner, he had discovered alternative ways to demonstrate the depth of his affection. He had shed his inhibitions and now allowed his love to flow freely, unencumbered by the barriers he had once erected.

Dottore hummed, "You know, my dear, I still think you'd make a splendid addition to my collection, preserved in a jar for all eternity." His playful tone hinted at his twisted sense of endearment, a dark humor that was uniquely his.

"I take it back." You glared at him, shivering at the thought. "You're mad."

A mischievous smile danced on Dottore's lips as he teased, brushing his gloved fingers gently against your cheek. "Ah, but my dear, it's precisely that madness that captivates you, isn't it?"

With a huff, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the comfort of his shoulders. "Lucky for you, that's true," you admitted, your voice filled with a mix of exasperation and affection. "Missed you,"

He held you tight in his embrace, reciprocating the warmth of your hug. Picking up his pen once again, he returned to his work, the presence of you on his lap bringing a sense of completeness. It felt like home. "And I've missed you too, my knight," He whispered, his words blending seamlessly with the scratching of the pen against the paper, as you both settled into the comforting rhythm of each other's presence.

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

#favoniuslibrary #˚₊໒🥧꒱kai writes₊˚#╰┈➤ il dottore #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #genshin impact

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dc-and-arfrona · 11 months

Text

Amusements

Batman x GN!Reader

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k+

Masterlist

Summary: Meet Cute of this list!

—

The sound of laughter and thrill rides filled the air as you entered the bustling amusement park. Excitement coursed through your veins as you contemplated the exhilarating attractions that awaited you. Little did you know that this day would bring an unexpected twist, one that would forever change the course of your life.

As you approached a particularly popular roller coaster, you noticed a sign that read: "Even-numbered riders only." It seemed that the coaster's design required pairs to maintain balance during the ride. Glancing around, you realized that you were alone, and finding a partner seemed daunting amidst the crowd.

Just as you were about to give up and move on, a voice, both commanding and mysterious, broke through the chatter. "I believe we can assist each other."

Turning toward the sound, your eyes widened in surprise. Standing before you was Batman himself, his iconic cape billowing in the breeze. The enigmatic vigilante, known for his solitary ways, had taken notice of your predicament.

Without uttering another word, Batman gestured for you to join him. Eager to seize this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, you quickly nodded and stepped forward, accepting his silent offer of partnership.

As you took your place beside Batman, the coaster's attendants guided you both into the designated seats. Strapped in and ready for the impending thrill, you stole a sideways glance at the Dark Knight, unable to ignore the mixture of excitement and curiosity that welled up within you.

The coaster roared to life, propelling you forward with a surge of adrenaline. With each twist, turn, and loop, you couldn't help but feel the exhilaration coursing through your veins. As the wind rushed past you, a mix of emotions swirled within—the thrill of the ride and the captivating presence of Batman by your side.

With every twist and turn, the layers of Batman's stoic demeanor seemed to peel away, revealing glimpses of vulnerability and humanity that few were privileged to witness. The coaster became a catalyst, breaking down the barriers that separated you from the legendary crime-fighter.

As the ride concluded, you stumbled off the coaster, your heart racing and your breath catching in your throat. Batman's gaze met yours, and there was a fleeting moment of connection—a silent understanding that transcended the limits of words.

Sensing the impact of the experience, Batman took a step closer, his voice softer than before. "Thank you for joining me. The ride was made all the more enjoyable with your presence."

A warmth spread through your chest, and you couldn't help but smile. "The pleasure was all mine. Who would have thought that an amusement park ride could be such an unforgettable adventure?"

Time seemed to stand still as Batman regarded you, his eyes hidden behind the mask conveying a mix of appreciation and something deeper—a connection that defied the boundaries of ordinary encounters.

The amusement park became your backdrop as you and Batman continued to explore the various attractions. The day unfolded with a blend of exhilarating rides, shared laughter, and meaningful conversations. You discovered unexpected similarities, shared values, and a mutual desire to make a difference in the world.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the park, Batman took your hand, his touch gentle yet firm. "Thank you for joining me today. The experience has been more meaningful than I anticipated."

Your heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed by the genuine gratitude in Batman's voice. "I'm honored to have shared this time with you, Batman. It's not often one gets to see the person behind the mask."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Batman's lips. "You've seen more than most."

With the day drawing to a close, you and Batman found yourselves lingering near the park's entrance, an unspoken understanding between you. The connection forged through the amusement park adventure was undeniable, and the desire to continue exploring it lingered in the air.

As the last rays of sunlight bathed the surroundings, Batman reached a gloved hand towards you, his voice laced with a rare vulnerability. "Would you be open to continuing this journey, outside the confines of the park?"

Eager to embrace the unknown, you placed your hand in his, your voice steady with newfound courage. "I would be honored, Batman. Let's see where this adventure takes us."

And so, as the sun set on the amusement park, a new chapter began—a thrilling journey of unraveling mysteries, facing adversaries, and nurturing a connection that defied the boundaries of the night. With Batman by your side, Gotham City became a backdrop for a love story unlike any other.

In the days that followed the amusement park adventure, you and Batman continued to grow closer, navigating the intricate dance of crime-fighting and companionship. Gotham City became a canvas for your shared endeavors, each night bringing new challenges and revelations.

With Batman as your guide, you delved into the depths of the city, uncovering its hidden secrets and confronting its darkest foes. The thrill of danger and the rush of adrenaline intensified the connection between you, weaving a tapestry of trust, understanding, and unwavering support.

As the nights turned into weeks, you found solace in each other's presence, offering a respite from the chaos that surrounded you. Together, you carved moments of peace amidst the city's relentless turmoil—watching the stars from the rooftop of Wayne Manor or sharing quiet conversations in the dimly lit Batcave.

In those stolen moments, Batman's enigmatic persona gave way to glimpses of the man behind the mask—a man driven by a profound sense of justice and a tender heart that beat beneath the armor. With each revelation, the lines between the legendary crime-fighter and the person beneath blurred, deepening the bond that had formed.

But love in Gotham was never without its challenges. The weight of Batman's responsibilities, the constant threats that loomed, and the sacrifice required to protect the innocent all tested the limits of your connection. Yet, despite the hardships, your love persisted, steadfast and unwavering.

Together, you faced adversaries both old and new, relying on each other's strengths and resilience to overcome the darkness that sought to consume Gotham. In the face of danger, you became Batman's ally, his equal, and his source of light in the darkest nights.

The city became your playground, a canvas on which you fought side by side, your love acting as a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. The people of Gotham began to take notice, inspired by the unity and unwavering determination you and Batman represented.

But it wasn't just the heroics that defined your relationship. In the quiet moments between battles, you discovered the simple joys of companionship—shared laughter, stolen glances, and the comfort of knowing that, in each other, you had found a sanctuary from the storm.

And so, as the years passed, your love story unfolded in the shadows and beneath the moonlit sky. The world knew Batman and his partner, but only you knew the depths of the connection you shared—the profound love that blossomed amidst the chaos of Gotham City.

Together, you continued to protect the innocent, to chase justice, and to find solace in the quiet moments. Whether it was a whispered "I love you" in the depths of the night or a reassuring touch before facing danger, your bond grew stronger, unyielding in the face of adversity.

Gotham City bore witness to your love story—a tale of two souls who dared to embrace the night, finding solace and purpose in each other's arms. And as you stood side by side, Gotham's guardian and his partner, the shadows whispered your names, forever entwining your destiny with the city you vowed to protect.

In the heart of darkness, love prevailed, reminding you that even within the shadows, there was light to be found. And as long as you had each other, you knew that together you could conquer anything the night could throw your way.

#Batman x Reader #batman #dc x reader #dc x you #batman x you #batman x y/n #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #dc universe #dc imagines #dc #batman imagines #bruce wayne imagines

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fieldandfountain · 2 years

Text

Mercy

Criston Cole x Reader, ongoing, 1200 word chapter

You are a lady of the far North. Criston Cole deserts his post on the Night’s Watch, and stumbles injured onto your land. You have every obligation to hand him over to justice, but can you really send him to his death?

Takes place several years after episode 10, when the war is coming to a close.

romance, hurt/comfort

You know you were a dutiful wife.

But your husband is gone now, fled to Cregan Stark’s war. After two years, you wonder if he will ever return but you find yourself enjoying your solitary life. You live in a small keep, alone but for your servants and the occasional village girl who visits you for a talk.

Your house was never a great one, and you married a landed knight, a vassal of House Umber, who in turn were sworn to the Starks. You do more work than the great lords ever will, helping with the birthing of lambs, the shearing and the washing of the wool. You spend long hours at your loom, working until the sun sets. You are proud of the work you do, the fine fibers you make, the beautiful woolen cloth you display in your chambers and sell at the market. You love the turn of the sunlight over the snow and the throaty cries of the sheep, though you are lonely, and have been since your wedding day.

The greatest point of interest from the outside world is the passing of men on their way to the Night’s Watch. They come in weary bands, already in their blacks to show that they take no part in the war between Queen Rhaenyra and her half-brother Aegon.

As a northerner, you have great respect for the watch. You know the wildlings will attack your lands first, and you have been lucky to merely lose a few sheep to passing scavengers. It isn’t unknown for a woman to be stolen: it is a point of pride among them to take a girl in her sleep. The men of the Night’s Watch keep you safe from such threats, with their courage and sacrifice.

But still your heart aches for the wretches who stumble along the road. They stare at you hungrily as you sell your wool. Perhaps you are the last woman they will ever see as free men. Volunteers do exist, but they are the minority. Most do not go willingly, but are sent as punishment. There are those who deserve it, murderers and rapers, but it was their lords who decided what crimes were worthy of the wall. Some might be sent for merely raising their hand to a nobleman, or stealing a wheel of cheese. Others are sent on a lie.

And you are aware that many are there merely for being on the wrong side of the war. The Dance of the Dragons, as they call it, has split the Seven Kingdoms down the middle. You have never seen a dragon and you hope you never will.

xxxx

It is nearing sundown, and you have returned from the barn with your lantern, your loyal sheepdog Briar by your side. One of your ewes is pregnant and you feared she would deliver tonight, but all is well. As your feet crunch over the ice you hear a low cry. A sheep must have escaped its pen, and your heart lurches as you see a wash of blood over the snow.

Wolves.

Briar whines, her nose sniffing briskly, and you do not know what madness propels you forward. You creep down the trail of blood toward the thicket, where the falling sun casts shades of vermillion and gold over the pines. You hear panting, and eyes like embers peer at you from shadows of the spruce trees.

“Lady,” calls a voice.

The man is clutching his leg. At first you think he is one of your shepherds, though you cannot decipher which. He does not look like Watt or Alek or Lenn from this distance. You hurry over, pulling off your cloak to wrap around the wounded man but as you near him you panic.

Black.

He is dressed in black. He is sworn to the Night’s Watch and it is a crime punishable by death to leave his post. You have every obligation to ride to the village, to raise the hue and cry, and have him arrested. That is the duty of a true northerner, especially one so entirely dependent on the protection of the Watch. But you see the deep gash in his leg through the tattered breeches, the blood running freely through deep punctures. He has been caught in a bear trap.

“Mercy,” he cries and your heart fails you.

You can turn him in tomorrow. He can’t go anywhere. You set to work, taking a knife from your belt and ripping up your underskirts to form a bandage. Briar darts about him, alternately barking and sniffing. Occasionally you steal a peek at his face.

He is disturbingly beautiful.

You’ve never seen a Dornishman so close, and the rich hue of his skin is a wonder to you, even in the pallor of his agony. His brown eyes speak an eternity, and his parted lips are as though chiseled in stone. Girls would sometimes giggle about the lust of Dornishmen, but he does not appear particularly lustful to you. It irritates you that your heart is beating faster for a deserter, and a wounded one at that, and you steel yourself and continue your work.

“Mercy,” he whispers again, and he collapses into the snow. His brow is burning to the touch. You must get him warm, get him inside, but you are unsure how.

“Your leg is bandaged, but you must help me. I cannot carry you.” He grunts in understanding. Slowly, you get him to his good leg, but the weight of him is almost unsupportable as you push through the wooded glade.

If anyone saw you, you would be ruined. You are already committing treason for childish pity. Your husband has often chided you for acts of charity or mercy, and you can feel his rage.

He is not here, you remind yourself. You are lady of this keep in his absence.

The servants have departed for the night, thank the Gods, but you they might arrive any time at the manor. You must take him to the bakehouse. It will not be used for several days at least, and you can start a fire without causing alarm.

Night has fallen by the time you have gathered bedding and a fire is crackling in the oven. He just manages to hold the broth you hand him, and drinks greedily. His gaze is bleary and desperate.

“I am (y/n),” you say. You want to tell him he is safe here, but you can’t. You will have to think, decide if you can truly betray the Night’s Watch.

“(Y/n),”says the Dornishman in a weak voice, and you start as he grips your hand. “You have saved me, and I owe you the truth, though I am sure to die for it. My name is Criston Cole.”

It takes you a moment to understand. Criston Cole. The Kingmaker, Commander of the Kingsguard, sworn enemy of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, who your husband is fighting for in the distant land. Sent to the wall for his treason, in an act of spectacular mercy.

And his life is in your hands.

#criston cole #ser criston #criston x reader #hbo house of the dragon #criston cole x reader #criston cole x y/n #criston cole x you

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dearviper · 2 years

Note

Hi can you do another anakin x sith!reader!? I really enjoyed the last one, the plot could be anything!

Absolutely! I love a good villainous couple 😩 This one is kinda based on the Mace Windu/Palpatine fight from Revenge of the Sith.

Stars, Hide Your Fires

Anakin Skywalker x Sith!Reader One-Shot

WARNINGS: Genre-typical violence

AO3 Link

“You wanted to see me, Master Windu?” you prompted expectantly, watching him gaze out the window over Coruscant.

He turned around to face you with mistrustful eyes. Typical.

“I have heard troubling things about you, padawan.”

You prickled at the title. After all these years, resentment festered at the insult of not being made a Jedi Knight.

Betraying no emotion, you raised a cool brow at his words. “Such as?”

Hands crossed behind his back, he took a step forward. “Master Kenobi has informed me that in battle, you used the Force to manipulate your opponents’ emotions.”

“Jedi have manipulated minds so often that there is a colloquialism for it. Certainly you’ve heard the Hutts refer to it as our ‘mind trick’?” you replied, unimpressed by the accusation.

Windu’s face hardened at your blase response. “We use it to persuade; you used it to instill fear.”

“And yet we still reached the desired outcome.”

“The ends do not justify the means!” he finally snapped. Taking a calming breath, he continued. “I sense a darkness in you, young one. Rage and apathy and sadism. That is not the Jedi way.”

You paused, cocking your head to the side and smiling slowly. “Then it is lucky that I am no longer a Jedi.”

As his eyes flashed with realization, you threw Windu across the room. Agile as he was, he managed to channel his momentum into a roll and land on his feet.

“You have been seduced by the dark side,” he snarled as the two of you circled each other.

“No,” you spit back.

You activated your lightsaber, and a scarlet beam flared out.

“I have been rejected by the light.”

You surged forward and slashed downward at Windu, but he quickly activated his own saber and blocked your attack.

Spinning away, he swiped his blade toward your knees. You managed to jump just in time to dodge it, but could feel the heat even through your shoes.

“The Council will sentence you for treason against the Republic.”

“The Republic is obsolete, as is your precious council,” you sneered, thrusting forward once more.

Windu parried your attack and flipped behind you. You threw your arm backwards to block his saber, but it was a miscalculation.

Instead of slashing at you, he kicked the back of your knees so your legs gave out from under you.

Taking advantage of this momentary weakness, he jabbed your exposed wrist with the hilt of his lightsaber, causing you to drop your own.

Using the Force, he flung yours across the room. Enraged, you threw up your hands and shot lightning at him.

Inexperienced with the use of Force lightning, you only managed a brief blast that he quickly evaded. The only evidence of your attack was the singed edge of his cloak.

Windu was too fast, too adept. Before you could react, he curled his fingers and began to choke you with the Force. He raised you from the ground, your toes only barely brushing the floor.

“You’re too dangerous to be left alive!” he barked out.

Though you tried desperately to propel your lightsaber back into your hand, you were unable in your weakened state. Your vision began to fade and darken, and you knew you had lost the battle.

You weren’t sure if it was the lack of oxygen, but you could swear someone was moving behind Windu…

In quick succession, three things happened:

First, the sound of a lightsaber activating blared in your ears.

Second, Windu released his grasp on your throat, and you greedily sucked in air.

Third, you looked up to see Anakin standing over a now-handless Windu.

He kicked Windu’s saber to the side (though without arms, the Jedi could clearly not use it).

“Skywalker,” Mace rasped out, face contorting with agony. “I should have known.”

Anakin did not answer, but looked upon Windu with disdain and resentment. In a flash, he slashed his lightsaber through Windu’s neck, decapitating him.

The room fell silent apart from the humming of Anakin’s saber and your wheezing breaths. When he deactivated his blade, the latter sound became more apparent.

Anakin looked at you, startled, as if only just then realizing you were there despite having killed Windu to save you.

Rushing over to you, he began to inspect you for any sign of harm.

“My love, are you alright?” he asked, worry marring his beautiful features.

You nodded slowly, though tears leaked from your eyes. When you caught your breath, you spoke.

“I thought I was going to die,” you whispered. Both the strangling and fear had taken your voice from you.

“He can’t hurt you now,” Anakin murmured, taking your face in his hands. “No one can. No one ever will again.”

You took a few seconds to settle your breath before giving a sharp nod and rising. Cocking your head in curiosity, you strode over to Windu’s body.

“Ironic, isn’t it? The Jedi fight dirtily and then criticize us for doing the same.”

Anakin didn’t answer, regarding you with concerned eyes.

You looked over, sensing his turmoil.

“Do you regret killing him, Ani?”

“He would have killed you.”

You did not miss the deflection.

“But do you regret it?”

This time, he hesitated before answering.

“No,” he finally said, setting determined eyes on you. “I don’t.”

Satisfied, you crossed the distance between the two of you.

“Good,” you smiled, pressing your forehead against his. “The Jedi do not love, and so they do not understand. They would take you away from me if they could.”

“I would never let that happen,” he assured you quickly, taking your hands in his own and squeezing them for emphasis. “I would destroy planets for you. I would burn worlds.”

“As I would for you,” you vowed, pressing your lips against his. “We are going to rule the galaxy together, Anakin. And if we cannot, we will tear it apart together.”

Star Wars Masterlist | Main Masterlist

#anakin skywalker/reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x sith!reader #anakin skywalker/sith!reader #revenge of the sith #star wars #dearviper requests #anon asks

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emxie · 2 years

Text

A Fleeting Fight

You're the undefeated champion of duels in Mondstadt. That is, until a certain blue-haired man steps into the ring.

Kaeya Alberich x GN! Reader

WARNINGS: None

Word Count: 1465

____________________________________________

A/N: I just started playing Genshin Impact a few weeks ago. When I first met Kaeya, I told myself that I wouldn't like him that much, as he's rather confident and flirty, something that I generally tend to not like in characters. Now, this rang true for a week or so. Then, I read a few platonic headcanons about him and thought they were very nice. I went to sleep, and I had a dream where I was in Mondstadt and sparring with people, and then I was fighting Kaeya. We were both on low HP when he suddenly hugged me, and I swear, it was nice and warm like the sun. I know he's a Cryo user, however, I now headcanon that this man is actually warm when he doesn't use his Vision (yes, based off of a dream I had). Anyways, he looked at me with such a beautiful affectionate look in his eyes and gave me a forehead smooch and that was the end. I woke up and then decided that maybe I did like Kaeya and that's how I got here. Additionally, I was thinking of a specific song when the dream was occurring, and I think that it was "Cruel" by Jackson Wang (if you know this song you're a legend) and I feel like it fit really well so if there's any hints of that in here, this is the reason why. I wrote this with Lumine in mind, as I do use her to play in-game, however, this can be read by anyone as no pronouns are used. Anyways, enough of me rambling. Enjoy the story!

____________________________________________

Clang! The fresh ring of steel resonated off of brick. Your feet inched back in the dirt, brimming with tension as your muscles strained. The sun beat down on your back, drawing sweat from your skin like a farmer from a well. Your hands grasped the hilt with a nearly suffocating hold.

“Think you can do better than that?” You grinned between the crossed swords at Huffman.

“I’m not finished yet, Traveler!” Leveling the blade, he withdrew from your reach. He then lunged, aiming for the space left unguarded.

Clang! Too slow. Your sword met his once more. Pushing back, you managed to rotate his sword onto its vertical axis. Taking this advantage of the weakened weapon, you swiped to the side, throwing it out of his hands

“Ah. I expected nothing less from the famed Honorary Knight of Favonius.” He bowed, admitting defeat. Retreating into the background, another soldier took his place.

Taking a balanced stance, you waited for the presiding captain to hit his pommel twice against the ground, signaling the start once more.

Repeating this cycle threefold, you remained undefeated, not unscathed. Your clothes stuck to your skin like leeches underneath your armor, absorbing the sweat greedily. Your breath turned uneven and ragged, rattling in your rib cage with each determined pump of the heart.

There was no one left to spar. That is, except for Cavalry Captain Kaeya himself. The man strode to the center with his usual assured manner, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

He met your eyes with his own, a swirling ocean blue vortex ready to pull you in at the slightest falter. Narrowing your eyes, you gripped your sword tighter, brandishing it at him. Sure you want to challenge me?

In response, he drew his own weapon, crossing the blade over your own. Oh, yeah.

Bam, bam! Twice the noise sounded. You two began to circle each other, knees bent and ready to propel one forward at the smallest provocation.

Silence. Nobody dared to breathe as they watched this encounter, a rare encounter akin to that of two felines ready to pounce.

His foot slipped on a protruding brick. Your eyes immediately darted to the protrusion as he lost balance, and you acted. Quick as a lightning strike, you lunged, a viper looking to catch its next meal.

What you didn’t expect was for him to twist in midair, your blade missing his torso by inches. And even more surprising was the sudden presence of warmth encircling your body. Accompanied with it was the unfortunate burden of weight.

You scrambled to find footing as you came to realize the Captain, cheeky bastard that he was, had moved upward and forward while falling, thanks to those toned core muscles you knew he had after all of those tough training sessions, and wrapped his arms around you, pinning your arms, and consequently sword, against your body. And despite his lean frame, he still weighed considerably more than you, due to his lanky height and the muscle mass packed onto his body.

This imbalance had you leaning backwards to accommodate for the new weight…which was what he had been planning on for you to do. Your weight counteracted his, and he was able to get back on his feet in half a second. Arms still around you, of course.

The uproar that his slip had caused ceased as quickly as it had started. A hush fell over the guards. Tension as thick as a slice of sticky honey roast seemed to hang in the air.

You met his gaze. Those damn ocean blue eyes. Encapsulating, enchanting, enamoring. They met yours with a teasing sparkle. Daring you to try. You swore that electricity sparked and sizzled between you two as you stared at each other, waiting for someone to move.

Then you turned your head, snapping the thread of connection. You began to wriggle in his grip, attempting to escape.

“Let…me…GO, KAEYA!” You growled at him, moving this way and that, feinting continually to try and confuse him. He still held on.

What a sight it must have been, to see the Cavalry Captain holding onto you, no less the Traveler that had saved Mondstadt from the threat of Stormterror, as you yelled obscenities at him and dragged him this way and that in an attempt to break his hold. Nothing worked. He still prevailed, grinning at you as your muscles began to tire.

And, to your own exasperation, it actually felt nice to be held by the Captain. His beautifully tanned arms rippled in tandem with the muscles beneath the surface as he latched himself onto you.

Contrary to popular belief, Kaeya was warm. Not incessantly warm, like a blazing inferno, such as what one might think when it came to Master Diluc. When his Vision wasn’t active, he had an average body temperature that may have slipped a few tenths of a degree cooler at times. So this resulted in a moderate warmth, like on a sunny day with a nice breeze and those wispy clouds trailing across the sky.

These were the thoughts that went through your head as you stopped to breathe and directed your focus away from trying to break his grasp for one second.

Hesitantly, you glanced up at the Cavalry Captain. Wait, was that pink? Peering inquisitively at his face, scouring his features for any kind of expression, the slightest hint of color made itself apparent against his skin, painting his cheeks with a dusted color, like the glorious sunsets you witnessed in the City of Freedom.

Your eyes flickered up to his ears, and then down to his neck. The slightest hint of color could be seen as well. And then he swallowed. The bob of his Adam’s apple was, surprisingly, amusing, in an endearing and awkward sort of way. Rarely had you ever seen Kaeya this nervous. The man always put up a facade, inlaid with confidence, wit, and coquettish interactions at every corner. Archons, the man was more laid back than the cats lounging around Mondstadt. And this behavior was amplified whenever you went to the Angel’s Share with him. Alcohol was a familiar and welcome friend to him. You had to deal with his childish drunken antics every time, with no fail, yet in this moment, you could see that there was a person within who possessed some level of concern, if not conscientiousness.

You looked back up at him, now noticing the imperceptible glimmer of embarrassment in those blue eyes of his. A smile graced your lips as you felt the slightest tremor in his arms.

Leaning into his chest, you relaxed your entire body, relinquishing your grip on the hilt of the sword in favor of his warmth.

All was quiet. Still. No one wanted to move even one muscle in fear of destroying this moment.

Kaeya’s arms continued to encircle you, but this time they moved lower. From your upper arms down to your waist. It just felt right, to have his hands resting on your hips, and your head against his chest. Having your arms freed, you reciprocated the gesture.

His lips brushed your hair, sending a tingle down your spine. He descended, before planting a kiss on your forehead. The bare contact of his lips on your skin sent a chill throughout your body. It felt as if they left an imprint of comfort, warming you just enough to feel sufficiently satisfied from your head to your feet.

Cheers erupted among the Knights of Favonius. The crowd roared itself into a frenzy. Somewhere in the thick of people, you swore you heard Amber say “About time,” yet all you could focus on was the rapid beating of your heart.

“What do you think, darling? Would you like to go to the Angel’s Share tonight; share a drink and some company?” He whispered next to your ear, barely loud enough just for you to hear. His hot breath sent another shiver down your spine.

“Kaeya, don’t go joking around!” You said, shooting him a disarming grin. Straightening your back, you untangled yourself from his grasp. You swore that his face deflated significantly at your words.

“But, wait, I wasn’t—I truly meant that!” He protested at your words.

“I'm just kidding!” You exclaimed, nearly tackling him to the floor as you wrapped him in a hug.

Relief flooded like a wave over his face as you said those words. He reached up to cup your cheek, a sincere expression overflowing with affection taking over his features; the ocean blue eyes were sparkling once more, filled with a pool of sapphires, that of which nothing could compare to you and your presence in his own life. “Well, then, what are we waiting for?”

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owlsoldwritingcorner · 4 years

Text

PLANS AND PREVIEWS OF UPCOMING FICS/DRABBLES!

Hey! It’s been a while, I’ve been working on,,, way too many things at a time and procrastination may have gotten a hold of me more than a few times BUT I hath cometh with some previews! Sooo, yay! noticeable progress!

Upcoming Multi-Chapter Fics

Sugar and Wheat/Honey and Oats (Haven’t decided on the name yet)

Agent Whiskey x Reader

Chapter 1

As Bright as The Sun

Mando/Din Djarin x Reader

Natural Enemies (?) *Preview coming soon*

Max Philips x Werewolf!Reader

Sugarbushes and Lilies *Preview coming soon*

Conner x Reader

(Also,,, there may or may not also be a spiderman, overwatch, and Borderlands fic I’ve planned a long time ago too,,,,)

Oh and much more planned Pedro Character fics planned too

Upcoming Drabbles/Oneshots

Scream

Puppy (Ruiner) x Reader

Release Date: July 30th

Celebration *Preview coming soon*

Propeller Knight x Reader

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ladyofthearbor · 3 years

Text

𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐄, 𝐈’𝐌 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

sansa stark x fem!reader

request: no

wc: 1.0k

a/n: this can be taken as a pt 2 to my previous sansa hc that ends similarly to where this one starts, but it doesn’t have to be

navigation.

Lady Ryger,

I pray this letter reaches you in good health, and that you are as full of light and life as you were on the day I first saw you. I do not know where you could possibly be now, but I miss you dearly. You are my last thought before I lay my head to rest, and my first in the morn when I wake. You are everything to me, and I am a fool for letting you slip through my fingers as I have. A long and hard journey is ahead of me, and the winds of winter grow colder on the horizon. As a child, I was told the story of the Last Hero, the man who fought off the Others and brought on the dawn. He wandered for so long looking for the Children, that all of his companions died, and then his horse, and then finally his dog left this world. I always wondered what propelled him to continue to put one foot in front of another, walking alone for years upon end, but now I see the truth. Never once was he truly alone. His heart was filled with love and the drive to win in order to get back to someone. To me, you are that someone.

You are my hope, the North Star that guides me in the night. However much you are missing me, I miss you a thousand times over. I love you with all my heart. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so much more than what can be written in words, or spoken at all. I love you on a level that has transcended physical, emotional, and any descriptor man has ever thought up. With my whole heart, I believe you are my one true love. The person I am meant to be with for the rest of my life. I wish to wake up and see your face lying next to me every morn. I wish to hold you when you’re cold, and warm your hands by the fire. I wish to grow old with you, my love. I wish to see Wintertown fill to its full capacity by your side fifty times over. I wish to live and die with you, to walk the path of life side by side, until we pass on into whatever journey comes after death. I can say with full certainty, that once you have received this letter, and all is said and out in the open, I will die happy.

By the time you have reached this point, you may be wondering why I am telling you this now. Why not sooner? Why not before I left? The answer is that this may be the final time we ever make contact. In case I die, and I never get to say these things to your face, to kiss your perfect lips and hold you tight, I’m writing you this letter. I pray I get to do all of those things, that I get to tell you this to your eyes, and see your reaction with mine. But I simply must accept there is a possibility I never get that chance. So I write to you now. My only hope is that I am not too late in this confession. That I have not forsaken you by my death, and you still hold even a sliver of affection for me in your heart. I, Sansa Stark, eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn, heir to Winterfell and the North, am, at the moment, dead. Soon I will rise from my grave and retake my homeland. Though, before I can do that I must shed the cloak I have been wearing for so long, and that means risking my life in a way that is unfamiliar to me. I mean to ride for the Wall, and meet with my half-brother, Jon. Meet me there, Y/N. Please. I long to see your face, to kiss you as if you were a knight from the songs and I was your princess in a tower. I yearn for every inch of you. When I wake, I will be the last Stark. So I ask you, this one time, this one most important time, Lady Y/N, will you aid me in the fight for my home? No matter where you might be in that fight, all I wish is to know that you will always and forever be on my side. For I will always be on yours. In the time since I left the Capital, I have had no word of your existence. I have not prayed since my mother and brother’s deaths, but every night and every morn, I pray to the Old Gods that you are safe and that you are happy. I wonder if this is how my mother felt about my father, and how my brother Robb felt about the girl he sacrificed everything for. It must be. Under the cloak I have hidden under lies a sleeping Sansa Stark, I often find she looks like Lady. I have dyed my hair a dark brown, sometimes it looks almost black. I have changed my voice, my dress, and the way I present myself. I have fully taken upon the role of a bastard of the Eyrie. I pretend it has seeped into my heart, but it cannot. Nothing of the sort could ever do such a thing when you have grasped a hold of such a big piece of it. We ride for Gulltown soon, after the tourney, and there I will flee. I plan to steal away with a mare of my own, and ride to the docks where I might book passage to White Harbor or Ramsgate. Once I step foot onto Northern soil, I will be the woman I hope you love once more. Until then, wait for me, ride north and wait for me, Y/N Ryger.

Signed,

Alayne

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paellaplease · 3 years

Note

Hi, I see you're taking requests! If it hasn't been done yet, could you do aspectabund with Revali please? I love your writing <3

2. aspectabund - letting emotion show easily through the face or eyes

pairing: revali x reader

summary: he knows you’ve been avoiding him and he can’t seem to figure out why.

Shaking the snow from his feathers, Revali surveyed the layered red rock of Mount Agaat with a scrutinizing gleam in his eyes. The reconnaissance flyby over the ice covered peaks had proven successful, with him safely scouting out several bokoblin camps under the cover of cloud.

Mindful of the tripwire, he entered the makeshift campsite to find you and the Gerudo Chief conversing quietly by the fire. You appeared in deep contemplation, and out of respect (and perhaps partial curiosity) he made no move to announce his arrival.

Urbosa crossed her arms, turning to you with a sly smile adorning her lip. “You can’t keep dancing around each other forever.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, fiddling with one of your winter gloves. “It’s highly likely he won’t understand anyway.”

“I’m sure his feelings on the matter are not as dissimilar as you think. Besides...” She leaned forward, whispering something into your ear.

Warmth creeping up to your cheeks, your face was in your hands in an instant, body leaning forward as Urbosa let out a short laugh at your exaggerated reaction. Cute.

The mortified groan you gave in response made him chuckle, finally alerting you both to his presence.

The Gerudo Chief angled her head and gave a brief nod in his direction, most likely having sensed his presence ages ago. In stark contrast, you quickly spun in your seat, mouth agape.

Nearly falling from the log, Urbosa reached out to snag the hood of your coat, saving your face from smashing into the dirt ground. Revali tsked, you should really be more aware of your surroundings.

"Revali!” Immediately, you bit down on your lip, schooling your face into something more subdued. “Welcome back."

Tilting his head, he found it odd how difficult it was for you to maintain eye contact. Your cheeks were darker at this point, the tip of your nose slightly red. His wings itched to readjust the scarf wrapped loosely around your neck. Perhaps you were cold. That won’t do.

"Did I miss anything?" He asked, looking pointedly at Urbosa.

He would never admit it but the Chief maintained a steadfast poker face. “I have nothing to share.” Standing up, she moved to add more kindling to the fire. “No monster has dared approach us yet.”

Judging by the impressive blades hanging from both your hips, he wasn’t surprised. Rubbing at his shoulders, he swiped a wing over the rocky expanse before them. “Good. And thanks to me, we now have a greater chance of avoiding them on the way up.”

He didn’t miss the way your body froze when Urbosa offered for him to take her seat. Not seeing any issue and assuming it to be a response to the cold of the mountain, he acquiesced.

The mission was completed without a hitch, the swing of your blade delivering the killing blow to the fierce lynel that guarded the peak of the mountains. Revali tried not to stare as you cleaned your blade on the snow, ignoring the errant beat of his heart as you turned to smile at him, skin still flushed from the heat of battle.

“It comes to no surprise that you are the Gerudo Chief’s apprentice.” He nodded, unable to hide the hint of admiration in his voice.

Tugging at the sleeves of your flowing blue jacket, your eyes were wide and shining, mouth close to admitting something profound and important. Revali kept his beak shut, waiting for you to say what you needed, disappointed when all it came to be was a simple “Thanks.”

You then proceeded not to speak to him for the rest of the week.

It was a shame really, you were one of the few allies he could stand for more than five minutes. The Rito thought you were diligent; a fighter that could tame a tempest, and most of all a worthy opponent when it came to the odd verbal sparring match.

Never had you shied away from a challenge, especially one posed by him. He was invested in your progress, secretly standing guard on the nights you would sneak out to train, ensuring that no person nor creature would disturb you. What's worse, a part of him honestly thought that you had begun to consider him as something close to a friend.

And now...

“I’ll scout the area!”

Revali sighed as he watched your retreating form once again, the remaining Champions looking at each other with equal confusion at your sudden disappearance into the forest. He didn’t know what your problem was, and honestly one more day of these mixed messages was going to drive him insane.

Slipping past him like water, you evaded him at all costs. Taking your meals alone or with different people, changing the location of your training sessions, waking up unbearably early or extremely late.

Then, on day eight of this madness, he found you sparring with a particular golden-haired knight that he couldn’t stand. That was the last straw.

“Fight me,” he said to you, uncaring of the other knights on the training field that stopped to stare at him approaching. The sword in his wing, though blunted, felt foreign and heavy. Long has it been since he last held a blade like this.

Taking off your helmet, you rubbed at your eyes to see if it was truly him. “Revali?” Funny, that was the first thing you’d said to him in days. “Where’s your bow? Ah, it seems you’ve forgotten.” You were already in the process of collecting your things. “Perhaps next time. It wouldn’t be fair if you had to fight me with a sword, after all…”

He scoffed, watching as you turned to leave. “Oh, so you plan on running away again like a scared fledgling?”

The training sword sailed past his head, missing his cheek by only a fraction. You didn't give him a second to flinch.

Revali side-stepped away, making a move to swing his sword at your back. Feet sliding, you blocked it with ease, sword already there to intercept his own even before it completed its arc through the air.

Experimentally, he pushed back on the blade. Dead still, it refused to budge. He tilted his head to capture your eyes, thrilled to see the burning embers behind them, all passivity long abandoned. There you are. “Nice to see you,” he grinned wryly.

Both of you separated quickly. Circling each other, his eyes took in the determined clench of your jaw and the steady rise and fall of your chest, waiting for when you’d launch yourself forward again.

"Not bad," you smirked. “Another one from that bag of tricks Chief Kamori taught you?” Your confidence in the moment was rather enthralling. Once again he found himself memorizing the planes of your face, reveling in the way your emotions would flit past—clear as day.

“Just you wait til I’m in the air with a bow in my hand."

"That's surprising!" You grinned, teeth sharp. "Didn't think the Great Revali was so reliant on keeping to the skies.” A cloud of dirt was kicked up as you propelled yourself forward. Taking the hilt with both hands, you raised your sword to strike heavily down on his head. “But isn’t it pretty when he finally comes down to your level.”

With a grunt, Revali barely had time to strengthen his stance, bringing his blade up to block your attack. The clashing of swords sent his talons skidding back on the dirt, the muscles in his arms straining against the weight of the blow.

“You’re insane!” He laughed breathily. “That could have cleaved my skull in two.”

“I knew you’d block it.”

The fight soon became the only other sound in the training field, many of the knights having left to complete their drills somewhere else. Even that quiet Hylian was no longer there, taking his leave once confident you could hold your own.

Of course they can defend themselves. He wanted to call out in mocking arrogance. And if they ever were in trouble they wouldn’t need you anyway. Because I’m here.

Taking a deep breath, you launched yourself at him again, delivering several attacks in a series of sweeping motions. Revali found himself having to focus intently on each one, blocking one after the other, eyes following the movement of your arm in an attempt to anticipate where the blade would next appear.

As such, he doesn’t notice the sweeping motion of your leg, the action sending him falling backwards into the ground.

Unlucky for you, the Rito had known the feeling of falling all his life. And before you had the chance to step away, he discarded his blade, reaching out to drag you down with him.

The air was knocked out of him as you landed painfully on his chest. Your sword slipped from your hand, clattering to the side. Revali pushed it further away when you tried to reach for it, trapping you against him with his other wing.

Stilling, he could feel the rush of your heartbeat against his own. From on top, you glared at him. “Let me go, fights not over.”

“Call it an intermission, darling.” You went red at that, smushing your head into his chest so as to hide the wild blush on your cheeks. “This fight is on hold until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me this whole week.”

“Because you’re…”

“What was that?” He said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“Because you’re you!” You finally let out. An angry scream left your throat, except because your face was still pressed to his front it came out as muffled and rather adorable.

Revali rested his head on the ground as he exhaled, finding peace in the never ending sea of blue stretched out above you both. “Well,” he said, interrupting the little breakdown you were having. “Of course I’m me, there’s no one else really. Unless you’ve met another Rito of the same name with razor sharp wit and devilishly good looks.”

You huffed a laugh, finally lifting your head to look at him. This close and he could see the fan of your eyelashes and the kiss of the sun on your cheeks. It took everything in him not to reach out and trace the line of your mouth, wondering if your lips were as soft as they appeared.

“I’ve been avoiding you because I like you, silly bird.” Blinking, you gazed at him with utter softness and sincerity. “And I apologise for running. I intended to tell you earlier— on the mountain. But self-doubt got the best of me and I didn’t want you to stop being my friend if you didn’t feel the same.”

Revali’s wings fell to his sides as you shifted, propping yourself up with both your arms. “Guess there’s nothing to worry about now that it’s out in the open.” A watery laugh escaped from your lips when he said nothing. “Come on, Revali. Say something. Or at least stand up so I can kick your ass.”

His arms were around you once again in an instant, crushing you to him in a tight embrace. “Rito, if this is some kind of trick to knock me off my guard I swear…” He could feel your smile as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck.

“I like you too.” He shook his head, poking you in the side and smiling when you yelped in response. “You are amazing and skillful. I enjoy every moment I spend with you. Though you overthink too much. Alas, but the curse of one so perceptive.”

“Still don’t know if that’s an insult or a compliment.” You mouthed into his neck. His feathers raised at the feeling of your warm breath against him. “Though I’m extremely relieved that Urbosa was right.”

Revali thought back to the mission at Mount Agaat, wondering what exactly the Gerudo Chief told you back then. “Right about what?”

“That you can’t take your eyes off me, even if you tried.”

#revali x reader #revali botw x reader #revali/reader #revali #revali botw #botw #rito #botw x reader #monkey brain: revali with sword #mutual pinin with a hint of hot fightin #liberosis part 3 coming soon i just needed to get this off my chest

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multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer · 3 years

Text

Calculated Risk (Anakin x Reader)

Author’s Note: Here’s the Anakin fic I said was coming out today! Don’t worry, this one is all fluff after the last angst one I posted haha. I hope you guys enjoy! And as always, my tag list/ask box/requests are always open! Thanks so much!

Requested?: Yes, by @cluelessgurl - “I’d love to see a jedi reader coming to Anakin’s rescue during a battle, even though he felt like he didn’t need it but being grateful anyway, just the reader being badass basically lmao. That doesn’t mean the reader doesn’t get a scolding from Anakin after the mission though with some fluff of course.”

Summary: You swoop into battle to help your crush, Anakin, who has vehemently denied the need for any back-up on his mission.

Calculated Risk

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: None, I don’t think!

“Ready to report a status update.” Anakin’s voice crackles to life on a hologram behind you. Out of curiosity, you turn to see Obi-Wan talking to Anakin.

“Yes?” Obi-Wan prompts, raising an eyebrow. You drift over to Obi-Wan’s side, ignoring the glance he gives you as you train your eyes on Anakin. Yes, you have a crush on Anakin. But it’s not like he actually likes you back, so it’s no big deal.

“A small droid army has intercepted us and we are working our way through,” Anakin says, and you hear blaster shots firing all around him.

“Do you need...help?” Obi-Wan asks, hearing a few grunts from clones who are getting shot.

“Oh, no, we’re fine. I’ve got this mission completely under control, don’t even worry about it.” Anakin chuckles, refusing help a little too much. You and Obi-Wan give each other a knowing glance.

“Anakin, we can easily send a squad-”

“Obi-Wan, I assure you, I can handle this myself. Ahsoka’s here, too, and she would say the same thing. Right, Ahsoka?” Anakin calls out.

“Master, we need your help over here! There’s too many of them!” Ahsoka’s voice comes ‘off-screen’ from the hologram.

“See? We’re doing just fine on our own. Gotta go!” Anakin quickly ends the transmission.

Obi-Wan turns to you, clearly still not convinced by Anakin’s antics.

“It’s obvious that he needs a little help, but he refuses to call in more troops. If I send in reinforcements behind his back, he won’t be happy about it.” Obi-Wan grumbles.

“When has Anakin being grumpy ever held you back?” You laugh.

“Well-”

“What if I could offer a compromise?” You interject again, actually happier with your plan than what Obi-Wan wants to do.

“And what do you suggest we do instead?” He lifts an eyebrow at you and folds his arms. You have a habit of getting into trouble just like Anakin, so he probably doesn’t trust your ideas too often.

“Send me.” You grin triumphantly at him.

“Send...you?” He repeats back slowly, turning the idea over in his mind. It’s not a no, so you continue to explain yourself.

“I’m one of the best Jedi Knights, even you can’t deny that. I can be reinforcements. But I’m still not a squad being dispatched to him so he can’t be mad because you didn’t technically ‘send reinforcements.’” You smirk, knowing you’ve outwitted Anakin. Obi-Wan sighs, but you see the small smile he’s trying to hide.

“You have a fair point...and Anakin is always happy to see you, so he won’t be upset that you’ve been sent.” Obi-Wan thinks out loud.

“What?”

“I’m...gonna go now.” You murmur, still not sure if you heard him correctly.

“Okay, stay safe. And...keep Anakin out of trouble, please.” He sighs. You grin wickedly at him.

“You’re telling me that?” You ask.

“That’s true, you egg on his antics... Still, you know the difference between reckless stupidity and calculated risks that need to be taken.” He groans, motioning for you to leave already.

“Sure, Obi-Wan. I’ll see you once I save Anakin and complete the mission!” You laugh, running to the hangar. You climb into your speeder and take off from the cruiser, headed toward Anakin.

~+~

Upon your arrival on the planet, an imperial bomber greets you. You try to maneuver your ship around the blast, but unfortunately, it takes out one of your wings and your speeder starts to go down.

As the ship plummets to the ground, you (as gracefully as possible) flip out of the top of it and land on a nearby rock, not too far from the battle. You watch as your ship makes contact with the ground and blows up. Sigh, you suppose you’ll have to take a ship back with the others.

You slide down the rock you’re currently on and join in the battle, taking down droids as you fight your way to Anakin and his crew.

You spot Anakin fighting near Ahsoka, getting pushed back by the sheer amount of droids trying to overwhelm them. That’s the thing about the empire. They may not have good fighters, but they had a lot of them.

“Anakin!” You call, flinging your lightsaber like a boomerang through the sea of droids. You call it back to your hand with the force and find that you have successfully cleared a path to Anakin. You decide to take your chance while you have it and run to him.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” Anakin grunts, still fighting off droids. You deflect a blaster shot that was aimed at him while he’s preoccupied.

“Helping you, duh.” You make a face, jumping into battle next to him. The two of you work flawlessly together, making quick work of the droids.

“I said I didn’t need reinforcements.” He sighs.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not reinforcements. I just came here to see you, of course.” You wink at him, taking down another entire line of droids. Anakin watches in almost-awe as you fight off the droids, much more efficient than the rest of his crew, and maybe even him. He’d never admit that, though.

He watches you do a backflip over a droid, slicing it straight through the middle as you land behind it. This elicits a chuckle from his lips.

“Always one to put on a show, huh?” He smirks, glancing over at you as if he wasn’t just staring.

“Only if I care who’s watching,” You flirt, giving him a quick smile as the two of you fall back into sync.

It’s only a moment later when you speak again.

“Bend down,” You tell him.

“What?”

“Bend down.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!” You groan. Does he always have to question you? You never question his antics.

“Fine!” He crouches down and slashes at the feet of droids for a moment. You grin wickedly and use his back as a stepping stone, propelling yourself forward as you slice straight through a line of at least five droids.

“Gotcha!” You laugh, continuing to have fun despite being in the midst of a battle. Anakin shakes his head at you, but you see the small smile gracing his face.

“Always so dramatic with your fighting,” He tsks.

“Says Anakin Skywalker, the man who always has to have a dramatic entrance.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment.

“...Touché.”

~+~

Once the battle is over, you look over to Anakin who had made his way across the battlefield while fighting. He’s walking over to you, and he doesn’t look quite happy.

“Before you get mad-” But before you can even finish your sentence, he roughly grabs your wrist and yanks you over to the side of the group that was forming to get ready to leave.

He lets go of you and turns around to look at you, his eyes scanning all over your body. You suddenly feel slightly self-conscious.

“Um...Anakin? Are you checking me out?” You try to tease, but your words seem more shy than bold like you intended.

“Checking you out for injuries, yes.” He huffs, but you see a slight blush rise to his cheeks, making you feel a little bit triumphant for at least a small victory.

“We have a medic for that.” You muse, growing bolder now that you know you’re not the only one slightly flustered.

“I know but- you could’ve gotten hurt, (Y/n). Why did you come out here?” He seems slightly distressed even after he concludes that you definitely didn’t get any injuries.

“I came to...help? Didn’t you hear me when I arrived?”

“I didn’t need the help-”

“Anakin I was literally here. I fought the battle, too, and I saw how many enemies there were. You needed the help.”

“I...I didn’t want it to be you, though.”

You’re hurt by his words. Your brows furrow and you start to turn away from him. If he’s going to be like that, then you’ll just leave. You don’t have to put up with this.

“No, wait! Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…” He grabs your upper arm to stop you. He rubs the back of his neck nervously as you turn to look back at him.

“How did you mean it, then?” You hum skeptically.

“I...I just worry about you, that’s all. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me, I wouldn’t be able to take the guilt.” He murmurs, much quieter than he was before. You turn back to face him fully again, stepping just slightly closer to him than you were earlier. His face is downcast to the floor.

“Why?” You ask him, tilting his head up to meet your eye.

“I like you.” He blurts out. This makes your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t think he’d be so...blunt with it.

But once again, before you can continue he tries to explain himself further.

“I like you, (Y/n), and I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt. I wanted to handle myself so that you...well, you wouldn’t have to come down here and you’d be impressed by me getting it done all by myself.” He explains, almost rambling at this point. You put a finger to his lips, successfully shutting him up.

“Ani, I’m already impressed by you every day. You don’t need to take on an entire droid army to impress me, but I do appreciate the thought.” You giggle, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. You see his face flush again and you smile at the thought of making him feel this way.

You see movement in the background and you look behind Anakin to see some boxes shifting slightly to block the two of you off from the rest of the group.

“What are you doing?” You ask Anakin, knowing that he’s definitely using the force to do that.

“Just moving some boxes in the way of prying eyes so I can do this.” You don’t have time to react before his lips are on yours. You kiss him back eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck as his arms snake around your waist.

Once the two of you pull apart for air, there’s a goofy grin on both your faces.

“I was wondering when that was going to happen,” You giggle.

“We’ll have to keep this a secret from the Order.” Anakin breathes out, the smile not leaving his face as he takes your features in from up this close.

“I’m willing to take the risk.” You smile at him, kissing him again. He melts into your touch.

“Good, because I am, too.” He kisses you one last time. You finally break away from each other, knowing that staying here too long would cause suspicion.

“See you on the ship, Anakin.” You wink at him and walk toward the boxes, shifting them back with the force as you join the group again.

Anakin trails behind a bit, a dumbstruck look still on his face. You’d tell him to be more subtle, but it’s only Anakin’s squad of clones and you know they wouldn’t say anything. That, and it’s too cute for you to ruin.

Obi-Wan was right about you being the one to take calculated risks that you deemed worth it, and you’ve never been more sure about anything: Anakin is a calculated risk that is more than worth it.

~~~~~

Tags: @spideyboipete @rowley-with-ackerman @official-hitmxn @anakinlove

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin fanfiction #anakin fanfic #anakin fic #anakin fluff #anakin x reader fluff #anakin x reader fic

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jamie-leah · 3 years

Text

War of Wolves (21)

Season 1

Episode 21 - Kill Them All

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 2160

Warnings: Violence, death, injury, hospitals, swearing

A/N: Well Lovelies this is the penultimate episode. There is only 1 more after this. I feel this part is a little rushed, but the season can't last forever. Enjoy Lovelies and see you on the last one!

<---Previous Episode Next Episode--->

WoW Masterlist. Series Masterlist. Oneshot Masterlist

BUCKY’S POV

All the plans had been made. They had touched down last night and had made it to one of Bucky’s smaller estates.

The plan was to storm the castle. Noah had provided detailed plans of the place and more of Darren’s and Bucky’s men touched down a few hours ago.

The only thing now was timing. Bucky was waiting on a call from Noah to tell them when the best time to strike was. The waiting was killing him.

Agonising hours passed until Bucky got a call from Noah, “tonight. Strike tonight. Harry is gone on business and he’s taken a bunch of men. This is the best you’ll get numbers wise”.

Bucky shakes his head, looking at Steve, “I want Harry there, I can’t let him get away-“.

Steve cuts him off, “if we have a good chance to get her now, take it Buck. We’ll get Harry another time”.

Bucky stares at his friend a little longer before talking to Noah again, “okay. We’ll be there tonight, as soon as its dark. I’ll keep you posted”.

After Bucky hung up that call, he was nonstop, making sure everyone knew what they were doing and where they had to be.

It was pitch black outside when Bucky and his men arrived at the imposing stone structure. It took Bucky no time at all to disable the men posted outside.

Then once everyone was in place at entrance points around the building, he gave the signal. Everyone breached the castle together, Bucky, Steve, and Sam taking the front door.

They enter to find men already taken out and Noah waiting by a set of double wooden doors and knights armour.

Some men came down the stairs, but Bucky left them to Steve and Sam as he strides over to Noah. His only mission was finding you.

Noah guides him over to a knight’s armour and the door behind it. Bucky barely hears Noah over the chaos in the background, “go, I’ll cover the entrance”.

Bucky pats him on the shoulder briefly before stepping over the threshold. The gunfire and shouting sounds muted between the stone walls.

Bucky moves quickly, but quietly, ears straining, and eyes peeled for even a glimpse of you. It had only been a week, but it was the longest of his life. He might as well have gone without breathing for that long.

Urgency danced along every nerve ending and heightened his senses. Something was compelling him to go deeper, further. He could feel you here, somewhere.

As Bucky kept creeping along, he could see what looked like a few cells down the end of the hall. His gut clenched not only at the thought of you being in there for a week but as if he just knew you were there.

Bucky jogs past all the doors in the corridor until he’s standing in front of the cells. They were dark but he could make out a lump on a cot in the first cell.

He strides up to the door and uses his metal arm to rip the lock that was in place, letting the door swing open. He makes his way over quickly but pulls up short at just how small and fragile you look, worse than when he first saw you from the streets.

He almost hesitates to touch you for fear of breaking you. He gently pulls the thin blanket from you and hears you murmur. He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding at the knowledge you were still alive.

As he gets closer, he whispers, “Y/N, doll, it’s me, it’s Bucky”.

He hears you murmur again, “go away”.

Hurt blossoms in his chest at your words but they soon die when he hears you again, “I know it’s not you, you’re in my head. Please go away, it hurts too much to see that it’s not you”.

Bucky gently pulls on your shoulder until you twist. Anger spikes at seeing how hollow you look but he smiles at you softly as he watches you taking him in. He waits, noticing how you linger on his eyes before saying, “Bucky?”.

“Yeah, doll”.

A ghost of a smile graces your lips, but it changes just as Bucky feels a blow to the head. It doesn’t knock him out though as he rolls with the impact further into the cell. He sees stars as he hears you scream from your cot.

He shakes his head to clear his vision in time to see a blonde guy punch you in the face, knocking you out cold. Red is all he sees, fury and rage propelling him to tackle the guy to the ground.

They hit the stone ground hard, rolling with fists flying. Bucky barely even registers the blows as he finally stops the momentum. He grabs the guy by the shirt with his flesh hand and uses his metal hand to keep punching.

Bucky keeps going until he hears bone crunching, until all he can see is the dark red covering his face, until the man stops moving.

Bucky pushes the guy away as he gets up to go to you. He notices how impossibly still you are and the trickle of blood coming from your nose. Bucky lays two fingers on your throat softly. He can feel a pulse but its faint.

He wastes no more time, scooping you up into his arms, holding you close to his body as he practically runs down the hall, urgency nipping at his heels.

As Bucky gets closer to the double doors back to the main foyer, he doesn’t hear anymore gunfire. The battle obviously won.

Noah is still standing by the door, his eyes looking like saucers when they fall onto you.

Steve and Sam hide their emotions better, as Steve says, “some surrendered, what do you want us to-“.

“Kill them”, Bucky doesn’t even stop his stride to the door.

“Buck-“, Sam this time.

Bucky turns to look at the men standing around him. His men. He looks at all of them before saying, “Kill. Them. All. I will not give that order again, are we clear?”.

Bucky doesn’t wait to hear their answers. The sound of gunshots was answer enough.

*2 Days Later*

Bucky had just hung up the phone when Steve walks into the hospital room, “who was that?”.

Bucky scrapes a hand down his face as he sits in the chair next to you again, “it was the doc back home, said he would have a look over Y/N’s medical notes and see if it was safe enough for her to fly back. I want her home when she wakes up”.

Bucky sighs before looking over at Steve, “any sign?”.

Steve shakes his head, “nothing, both of them are in the wind”.

Bucky resists the urge to break things in the hospital. He watches your face, peaceful in the afternoon light to calm down instead. All he could feel was one failure after another for you. The car crashing, letting you get taken, not finding you for a week, and now letting Harry and Isaac disappear.

“It’s not your fault Buck”, Steve says, somehow always reading the thoughts in his head.

Bucky replies, still looking at you, “tell that to her when she wakes up”.

“I won’t have to because she will tell you the exact same thing”, Steve says firmly.

“What am I meant to say to her Steve? That I let that fucker get away? Me? The man that swore to protect her?”, Bucky scoffs.

Steve shuffles until he can look Bucky in the eyes, “you haven’t failed her Bucky. You’re human-“

“Well, I can’t afford to be!”, Bucky roars.

Bucky clenches his fist, biting his tongue until he continues between clenched teeth, “I have too many people counting on me. We may have won the battle this time Steve, but it’s far from over. This is a war and I fully intend to win at any cost. This is a war and I want them all dead. Every last single one of them”.

The silence stretched. Steve didn’t disagree, especially since they went after Peggy and the kids. Bucky sighs again, as if he was being crushed under the weight of everything he insisted he would carry himself, “go home Steve”.

“I’ll head back to the hotel-“.

“No. Home. Go home Steve. Go and see your wife and your kids. Take some time, because it won’t get any easier from here. Not only will we have Harry and Isaac to deal with, but we took a hit. People will be talking, and we need to get a hold of that shit. I don’t want anyone thinking they can take us. I’m still the White fucking Wolf and I need everyone to remember why. So, go home Steve. I’ll be back soon with Y/N”.

Bucky registers Steve’s shoes against the floor, and the click of the door opening. It was a few minutes of silence before Steve murmurs, “you are the White Wolf…but you’re also Bucky Barnes, my best friend, Sam’s best friend. You’re godfather to my children and practically a brother to Peggy. And Y/N? She might as well already be your wife. What I’m saying Punk is, don’t lose sight of who you really are in the midst of this war”.

He lets the words sink in before Bucky hears the click of the door closing. Bucky goes back to studying your face. His eyes tracing the bruises changing colour over your sharp angles. The rise and fall of your chest.

He lets a tear fall as he lays his head lightly on your stomach, hugging you like a lost child would their teddy. This was the first time he ever felt, he ever wished that he was anyone other than a mob boss.

YOUR POV

You come back slowly. To the sound of beeping and the feel of a soft, slightly ridged bed beneath you.

You keep your eyes closed, trying to get a sense with your body if someone is in the room.

When it feels safe enough you open your eyes slowly, not having a choice against the lights in the room. Your eyes water and you let the tears travel down your cheeks as you try not to move.

A quick scan of the room shows there is no one around and the longer you look around the faster memory comes back. You don’t want to believe your eyes. You don’t want to believe that you’re in the med wing of your home, with the thought of Bucky somewhere within. You didn’t want to believe it for fear that you will wake up back in the cell or in that room with Isaac.

But the longer you lay there, staring at every piece of the room, focusing on your breathing the more you realised this isn’t a dream or a hallucination.

You sit up, muscles protesting the movement. It takes you longer to swing your legs out of bed and even longer to stand on your feet.

The first time you try, you crumple like a fawn on new legs, the bed the only thing stopping you from hitting the floor.

Your chest heaving, you try again, standing in one place a little longer before feeling your legs buckle again. You repeat the process a few times, until your shaky legs are strong enough to carry you.

That is when you decide to take everything out. The machines start beeping and you know your time is limited now, people will crowd the room within minutes, but you have to find Bucky first. You have to know this is real.

You hold onto the bed for as long as possible as you let your legs remember how to walk on their own. When you run out of bed you grab a hold of the door, letting it swing out as you follow the wall with your hands.

The halls are empty, and you couldn’t be more grateful as you start to take easier steps closer and closer to Bucky’s office.

As the office comes within sight you hear the door open and he steps out, looking one way and then the other, his eyes landing on you. He was holding a phone to his ear but the moment he sees you he hangs up.

You take him in, both in disbelief at either ends of the hall staring. Your lips part, “Bucky?”.

He strides towards you at the sound of his name, purpose filling every step. He doesn’t hesitate as he reaches you. His hands gentle against your skin as he sweeps you up bridal style. The smell of him fills your nose as you bring your hands up to cup his face.

You stare at him for the longest time, focusing on his eyes and you finally accept that its him as your eyes well up, “Bucky”.

WoW Taglist: @a-really-bi-girl @crazyblonde124 @summerwelsh @scuzmunkie @loving-life-my-way @pequenaguaxinim @paranoid-borderline-insane @lilsonbucky @somanyfandomsblog @broco8 @inquisitor-selvala @mad-red @k-n-e @rinkashirikitateku @duhh-danielly @boundtomyfate @kalesrebellion @booktease21 @whatinthyworld @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel @asapkyndall @yaszx @amoredashley @aveatquevale- @putinovertime @melimelbean @valsworldofcreativity @lokilokilokilokilokilokilo-blog1 @vesper852 @littlenerdgirl16 @wiccanmetallicrose @aya-fay

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #bucky fandom #bucky series #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #mob!bucky #james bucky barnes #marvel

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threeminutesoflife · 3 years

Text

Don’t Forget

Pairings: Steve x Black!Reader Summary: A look at family life for Steve, Reader and their daughter after reader suffers problems with her memory Warnings: slight angst/ends happy, memory loss due to injury, smut, slightest breeding kink Word Count: 1.8k

prompt: 50 First Dates

a/n: @allaboardthereadingrailroad❣️🧡 thank you for hosting the Diversity Challenge

a/n2: piece is purposely choppy and randomly placed to reflect the reader’s struggle with memory. Also, references to Dark Knight, Love Actually, Say Anything, 50 First Dates.

___ A monetary, momentary impact- cause and effect:

Bank robberies were many things. Successful ones were more. Timing, precision, determination; a well-mapped out plan, and methodical dedication to achieve a streamless end result.

It was that sort of successful robbery that cemented you, an involuntary participant, on a repetitive course of choppy, foggy memories. Despite the jovial clown designs of the robbers’ masks, the severity of the situation was real.

Because things really do play out in slow motion as dramatic events unfold- a deafening crash, a cloud of dusty sunlight pouring in through the bank's broken entrance. Stilted, broken flashes of your life projected themselves on the backs of your closed eyelids.

Unfortunately, you were within the range of the propelling debris when the school bus reversed into the building.

Because of that day, your memory would skip and strip.

____

Exhilaration- friendly fear of tickle monsters:

The sound of tiny feet slapping the floor drew closer from down the hall, ten little toes against high-gloss maple.

The bedroom door crashed open with no regard to the plaster behind it.

Giggles cut through the room as thirty pounds of mischief in footed pajamas launched itself straight at you.

“Mommy!”

Your three year old squealed before bombing her limbs upon your stomach, "Daddy’s gonna get us!”

___

No time for regret, when you’re in the moment of gratitude:

Steve found you standing in front of the vanity, staring at the mirror- unfocused. Frowning slightly, he knew what you were doing to yourself.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Steve, do you ever think... it’d be easier if you didn’t ask me out all those years ago?”

“Which time?” Steve tested the waters with the usual joke, gathering time to prepare himself for the familiar, spirit-dampening conversation.

Every few months you’d ask him if all this was worth it- if the extra work to be with you was what he wanted. He’d always reply with, ‘Loving you's a blessing, not a chore.’

You’d hesitate at those words, at his sincerity- until he was able to coax affection back into your field of vision. Because you were worth it to him.

“Steve, come on. I’m being serious.”

“Me too. I’m lucky to be as stubborn as people claim me to be-“

“Oh, it’s a fact," you snorted. "Not a claim. You’re stubborn.”

“Good thing for me then, huh?" Steve smiled, relieved by your humor. "Otherwise, I’d miss out on everything that’s good in my life.”

___

She’s got jokes:

A documentary splashed itself across the television screen as you sank into the couch next to Steve. Pointing your toes, you rested your legs over his lap and cracked open the fake memory journal's spin.

Watching you from the corner of his eye, Steve hid his excitement that you brought the book out by him.

You usually looked over it alone, too self-conscious to try remembering things in front of others. He always encouraged you to sit and read it with him. He liked resharing the stories you created together, but your underlying guilt for not recalling events easily shut the door on those conversations.

Turning the page, you caught Steve glancing at you before shooting his attention back to the screen with a cough.

Smugly stretching your legs, you bit your lip and rubbed your ankle over Steve’s bulge. Catching the way his thigh jumped and flexed under his thin sweatpants, your eyes darted back to the journal. You couldn’t wait to play out your prank.

Keeping his eyes on the screen, Steve picked up your ankle and rolled his knuckles along the arch of your foot. As much as he appreciated the way you riled him up, he wanted you to open up.

Chuckling, you mumbled to yourself how great that day must have been before turning the page and complimenting another pretend event.

Another faux memory praised, Steve twisted towards you before shaking his head and turning back to the screen. Pressing his thumb harder into the sole of your foot, he was unsure how to proceed.

Delighted by his confusion, you complimented another memory with a theatrical dreamy sigh.

Giving in to his curiosity, Steve paused the television and gave it a shot, “What are we looking at?”

“I thought it might be nice to talk about the stuff we did- like you’ve wanted.”

The smile that spread across Steve’s face almost made you feel bad for the prank.

“Yeah, yes- I’d like that,” he shut the tv off, practically dropping the remote in excitement. “What are you reading, what’s making you laugh?”

“How you asked me out using cue cards you made. The messages you came up with were sweet.”

“...Cue cards?”

“It was special of you, Steve. Taking the time to write out something on each one. Here. Look at this sentence, you called me perfect. Reading what you did and how loved I felt, you’re so wonderful.”

“...Honey...” Steve’s voice cracked slightly, “I don’t, I don't know anything about cue cards-”

“-And then the time you stood outside my bedroom window with that boombox. Holding it obnoxiously high above your head. Thank goodness for biceps, am I right?" You teased, nudging Steve with your elbow. "That gesture might be a little too much for some but reading how you made me feel, it meant so me.”

“You wrote that?” Steve questioned, an edge of concern creeping in. “You think I actually did-... you remember these things happening?”

“My favorite is right here. When you built that little house out of waffles at the diner. Setting up a kiddie pool of syrup for us to dip the roof in and a jacuzzi of hot chocolate nearby. And then your expression- when I said I'm more of a pancake person. You argued how pancakes aren’t sound enough for construction.”

Keeping your poker face intact, you tried not to flinch as Steve inspected you intensely.

Suddenly, he jetted forward and snatched the fake journal from your hands. Sailing it over his shoulder, he knocked your legs from his lap and climbed off the couch to loom over you.

Before regret set in from your play of inaccurate historical accounts, your body snapped backward as Steve yanked you down the sofa by your ankles.

“Hysterical. Pancakes over waffles” Steve scoffed dryly at your teasing, boxing himself over you and settling his knee between your legs. “I know you too well. You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

____

Adoration, a promise of tradition and support:

You sat in bed with her snuggled by your side, a little nose peeked out from under her blanket. Her little hand wrapped itself around your shirt, her other held a well-loved, stuffed bunny.

Scooping her up, you cradled her in your arms. Warm security. Peeling a corner of the blanket back, you kissed her cheek.

Between giggles, she raised the rabbit up in the air and you played along- one kiss for her, another for her stuffed friend.

She settled in slowly with a yawn as you hummed the lullaby your mother softly sang to you before bed. The same rich melody draped with the lyrics your grandmother sang to her children.

Tears gathered in your eyes as you willed yourself not to forget this moment.

___

Gratitude and gratefulness:

“Can’t you see how beautiful you are? Knowing I’m yours- that you’re mine... when you come out of that bedroom each morning, I witness that recognition of love on your face when you see us...” Steve’s body tensed, his shoulders shook as he stumbled over the words. "...getting to see you with our girl each day."

“Hey," You called to him, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "Hey, handsome."

Steve pressed his forehead against yours and tried to push down his anxiety.

Your eyes locked to his as you promised teasingly, “You and our daughter- seeing her each day- that’s my happiness. You're just a bonus.”

Sputtering a laugh, he closed his eyes and relaxed from your fingers threading through his hair. Steve never took for granted how you soothed him, especially during the times when he should actually be comforting you.

“Thank you,” Steve whispered.

“Some things are easier to remember than others for me.”

“Yeah?” His lips ghosted over yourself, a half-smile raising the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah. The journal's a great cheat sheet, makes it easier to recall I have a husband. Now, if only I could pick him-”

Steve moved quickly, cutting off your joke. His mouth trapped your next words when his tongue swept over your lips.

___

Muscle memory:

“Hold your legs. Spread'em wide for me,” Steve instructed between a husky, broken grunt. “Wider, sweetheart.”

He stroked himself in front of you as you laid naked on your back. Your arms were sandwiched between the fold of your legs and hands locked around your ankles. You provided your husband more access and an even prettier view with your feet in the air and legs parted.

He ran his fingers over your folds, circling your clit. Lining himself up, he thought how these were some of his favorite moments with you, the intimacy and the need.

Caught up in the stretch and sensation of him slowly entering you, you almost missed his next words over your moans.

“Want…” Steve stuttered, “want to be deep in you, beautiful.”

You mewled under him, squeezing him from his words. Releasing your ankles, you grabbed his arms for support as he slowly slid deeper. Steve’s movements faltered with a groan, feeling you tighten around him.

He closed his eyes to concentrate as you felt goosebumps run down his forearms under your palms.

“Fuck,” Steve cursed and praised, thrusting harder. Your legs bounced above your arms from each snap of his hips.

“Free your legs. Give me your hands, sweetheart,” Steve instructed, massaging your breast.

Pulling him down, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. You inhaled his woodsy shampoo as you dragged your nose along the light shadow of his beard. Capturing his mouth with yours, you tasted salt on his top lip.

With a quick bite along your collarbone, his chest rumbled when you ignored his instructions. Collecting your wrists in one hand, he secured them over your head and ground into you harshly.

“I love you,” Steve said, slowing his pace.

You replied with a roll of your hips, earning a dark moan from him, "I love you, too.”

Steve rocked back on his heels, dragging away his length and slipping out of you completely. Your body immediately began to cool from his lack of touch.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you called out, "What's wrong?"

“Your empty journal sheets bother me,” Steve stated, running his hands over your knees. "We're fixing that."

His thumbs circled up your inner thighs, looping closer to your core. Spreading your legs further apart, he pushed them into the mattress. Taking himself back in his hand, he palmed his erection and rocked his shaft along your folds.

"Let's have another baby, sweetheart," he smirked, teasing his tip into you. "Gotta fill up all those pages.”

#steve rogers x black!reader #marveldiversitychallenge #steve x black!reader #black!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #marvel fanfiction

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

Text

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Brownies (part 4)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: E for Explicit!!!

Summary: Javier reveals his knight-in-shining-armor side when Reader is in danger. Then Reader bakes brownies, and he reveals...something else ;)

Tags: Attempted mugging at knifepoint. Javi points his gun. Swearing. Inappropriate or maybe completely appropriate use of chocolate. Male masturbation. Exhibitionism if you squint.

Word Count: 4,634

A/N: Okay but consider: Javier has a competency kink.

Masterlist

The last three days had been exhausting. Long shifts at the hospital with your intensive-care patient had worn you out, but it was worth it to watch them steadily get better. Tomorrow somebody else was on duty in the morning, and you were greatly looking forward to sleeping in. Knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave your pajamas before your afternoon shift, you had plodded through the grocery store on your walk home tonight.

You breathe deeply, gratefully of the fresh night air as you turn into your building’s driveway. With the all-day shifts and your lack of motivation to do anything but sleep after them, you hadn’t been outside as much in the past few days. Idly you wonder if it’s too soon to ask Javier to take you to that bakery.

You glance reflexively up at his front window as you stop at the base of the steps outside. A light turns off as you rummage through your purse for your keys, but it’s far too early for him to be going to bed. Maybe he’s going out.

You set down a grocery bag, your keys evading your slightly constrained reach. With your head down and your vision narrowed to the inside of your purse, you don’t notice the man until it’s too late.

A rough grip where your neck meets your shoulder, thumb digging painfully into the muscle, and the cold press of steel against vulnerable skin- a knife blade, you register dimly. Every alarm in your body blares as a voice scratches in your ear: “Give me all of the money you have, and I will not use this.”

Adrenaline burns through you, and your hands tremble as it fights the fog of tiredness that had been smothering you. The man scrapes the blade of his weapon along your neck to make his point, then shoves you forward, into the metal bannister of the staircase. The breath whooshes painfully out of you.

Your skin flashes hot and cold with panic, but you force yourself to breathe through the pounding of your heart. You slowly turn around.

Your aggressor is a skinny, unassuming young man, like any other you’d pass on the street, but his eyes are hard, his hold on the knife unwavering as he points it at you. “Your wallet. Now,” he demands, eyes flashing, and you know he meant his threat.

The streetlight above gleams on the blade, a foot from your face. Your tongue feels thick and clumsy in your mouth. You can only nod, trying to communicate placation, that you’ll comply with his request. Your eyes never leave him as you gradually close your hand around your wallet.

Just then, the building door opens, and everything happens very quickly.

Light splashes on the man’s face. “What the- HEY!” Javier’s anger blasts over you, the sudden whip-crack sound of it the loudest you’d ever heard from him. He lets out a rattling stream of Spanish, but your mugger appears unconcerned until a second later, when you hear a sharp click above you. Alarm dashes the arrogance off his face as he flinches. Javi has a gun.

In his moment of distraction, you lift your foot and ram it into the man’s stomach, propelling him backward. He stumbles nearly onto his ass, wheezing, and in an instant Javi is in front of you, gun pointing at him. He shouts something else too fast for you to make out.

The man answers, cowering with his hands up, and Javier spits out one final statement before telling him to leave, jerking his gun in emphasis. Your would-be mugger doesn’t look back.

Javier holds his stance for another tense moment. You tentatively touch your fingertips to his shoulder blade, feeling the strength holding his muscles taut. He nearly shudders at the contact, bringing him back to himself.

He turns to face you, tucking his gun away against his back. “Hey, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His voice urgent, his eyes still dark and tense with rage. He holds his hands palms out, showing you he’s safe, begging you to believe him.

Adrenaline still vibrates beneath your skin. You look at him with wild eyes, shake your head. Abruptly your knees wobble, and Javier springs forward. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay now, Vecinita.”

One arm encircles your waist while the other props you up along your spine, broad hand splaying, fingers pressing into you with desperate relief. His rough voice smooths your lingering tension, the closeness of his body new but comforting. You let his warmth erase the other man’s violation of your space. Your hands clutch at the lapels of his leather jacket, a sigh shuddering out of you.

“Vecinita. Let’s get you inside, okay?” Javi gently prompts you into moving, keeping one arm wrapped around you as he guides you up the stairs. He directs you to lean against the wall just inside the door.

“Here, put those down, all right? Stay here. I’ll get your other one.” He eases the remaining bags off your shoulder and onto the floor, then disappears out the door, only to return in a flash with your second grocery bag in hand. He sets it down by the others.

You watch him, your head resting against the wall as you battle the exhaustion that had returned full force, aided by the rush of adrenaline and the subsequent crash as it left your system.

Javi approaches you again, worry clear in his face at your limp posture. “Vecinita? You okay?” His hand comes up as if to brush a stray hair at your temple, but he doesn’t touch you. His arm drops.

But you reach out for it, sliding your hand down his wrist to entangle your fingers; the touch as much a comfort for you as it is for him.

Surprise flares in his eyes at your gesture; something indescribably like longing crosses his face. He squeezes your hand.

You smile faintly at him. “I’m fine, Javi. Just...shaken. And tired,” you admit. “I’ve had long shifts at work the past few days.” Your feet ache just remembering, but you make no move to leave.

“Oh yeah, Connie told me,” Javier says without thinking.

Well, that was news to you. You look at him with sudden, sly interest. “Oh yeah? You two ladies talk about me?” Giving his own words back to him, from the second time you went over to check on his leg. It could have been a lifetime ago for how different things are now.

Javi looks dumbfounded for a split second. A helpless chuckle spills out of him, unconsciously swaying forward as if only this, your familiar teasing, had convinced him that you were fine, that he could finally let go of his own tension.

His face is so unguarded; you’re delighted to see his eyes crinkle with laughter. They’re so brown, so beautiful this close up, a rich spiral of shades that you could stare into for hours and still not find the right words to describe.

You smile fondly up at him, not minding his nearness in the slightest. You’re conscious, suddenly, of how overwhelmingly glad you are that you got to know Javier. Of how grateful you are for his company, his protection just now.

For once, you are the conflicted one, a thoughtful expression puzzling your brow. Because it’s your turn to consider how you could possibly thank him for what he’s done. What could be enough to communicate the depth of your gratitude?

Javier knows that you are okay, really. That he should get you inside your own apartment, let you sleep off the past few days. But he is utterly captivated. Held in place like an animal caught in the wrong trap, at the mercy of the hunter to decide its fate. Would you put him out of his misery by telling him that you’re not interested? Or free him from the trap of his clumsy uncertainty, grant him the clarity of your feelings so that he may choose his own course?

The press of your hand in his gives him hope, intimate and promising in all the right ways. He doesn’t want to let go, but this is unquestionably the wrong time to make any kind of move. He’s already standing too close to you, unable to resist your draw in the relief of the moment.

Time seems to thicken as your smile fades. He wants to smooth the furrow in your brow, chase off what’s troubling you. Of course, it could be me, he thinks sardonically. Despite his best efforts, his eyes flick rapidly down to your lips.

And he watches your expression shift again, those lips parting, and if Javier didn’t know better he’d think you wanted him to kiss you- but that can’t be right, you’re just in shock. His moral compass gets him into trouble at the best of times, but it’s swinging wildly now, leaving him utterly spun.

His tongue pokes forward unconsciously, just wetting his lips...but before either of you can move you hear a crash from Steve and Connie’s apartment above.

The spell is broken. You start, your head automatically turning in the direction of the sound. Javi straightens, putting some air between you, but his gaze never leaves your face.

“Sounds like they’re fighting,” he says. “Come on, let’s get you inside before one of them storms out.” He lets go of your hand only to slide his arm around you again. You let him help carry your bags, your limbs revolting at the idea of further movement.

Javier guides you into your apartment as far as the kitchen. He’s reluctant to let you go, but darts anxious glances at the back hall, not wanting to overstep (despite what had just almost happened outside).

He unwinds himself from you once he’s sure you’re holding yourself upright. Before he can leave, however, you grab his arm again.

“Javi!” You seem...afraid, but like you’re furiously trying not to be. “...What did you say to him?”

He’s not convinced that was your original question, but he answers. “I asked him who he worked for. He said no one, he just needed some money...you were a random pick, Vecinita, in the wrong place at the wrong time. He won’t come back.” A bitter taste fills his mouth at the memory, the sight of that motherfucker pointing a knife at you. But his rage softens when he sees the anxiety haunting your face.

“Hey. You want me to stay here tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch. Guard the door.” His attempt at levity sounds half-hearted, but your lips twitch upward in response.

“I..can’t ask you to do that, Javier,” you mumble, gaze shifting- until you remember something. “You were going out.” You look back at him questioningly.

He barely remembers his original plans for this evening. Drinks with coworkers? Javier shrugs dismissively. “Nothing important. Don’t worry about it. Come on- I’ll stay here tonight and drive you to work tomorrow. Deal?”

You bite your lip. “I don’t work until the afternoon tomorrow.” Another feeble attempt at protesting. He waits.

Finally you concede. “Thank you, Javi”, you whisper, nearly inaudibly.

Instead of speaking, he takes your hand again. Bringing it to his mouth, he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, without a trace of his suggestive intentions from the first time. “Que duermas bien, Vecinita.” Sleep well.

You wake naturally the next morning to sunlight streaming through your curtains. You forgot to set your alarm! Your first thought has you sitting bolt upright, heart pounding; then you remember that you have the morning off. Your heart rate slows only marginally as the events of the previous evening return to you, including- Javier slept on your sofa.

Your pulse rockets right back up, flushing your whole body with nervous energy. Damn it, it’s too early for this. Your sleep-clumsy thoughts are tumbling and manic as you try to decide on a course of action.

Right, first- check your clock. Ten a.m.?! You stifle a groan. Who knows how long Javi has been awake by now, just waiting in your living room? Assuming he stayed- you wouldn’t blame him if he’s gone to his own apartment for food by now.

Wait, speaking of food- you frown, lifting your nose toward the door. Is that coffee you smell?

So Javier’s awake, then.

Abruptly overcome with giggles, you cover your face with your hands, grinning like a fool. Javier had stayed, and made himself coffee in your kitchen.

Well you couldn’t just leave him out there. You take a deep breath, willing yourself calm. Time to stop acting like a giggling mess with a crush. The thought makes you pause, wide-eyed. Holy shit, did you have a crush on Javi?

I mean, he did save your ass last night, you reason. Very superhero of him. And you kept finding more attractive things about him, and you’d spent some real time together now, and he...he had kissed your hand last night. After definitely almost kissing you in the hall. Mierda. You giggle to yourself again. So much for being calm.

Well, there was nothing to be done for it. You throw a light robe over your pajamas and pad to the kitchen.

Butterflies burst in your chest at the sight that greets you. Javier is sitting at your dining room table, a mug in front of him. Chin in hand, lost in thought, hair still adorably mussed from sleep.

You only have a second to appreciate it before he hears you approach. He stands with a start, guilty eyes flitting from his coffee to the kitchen before settling on you, hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He clears his throat. “Morning.”

His voice is even raspier this early in the day, like a match striking heat inside you. A reaction you will definitely have to process later.

“Morning,” you return, smiling sheepishly at him. You go to the sink to fill a glass of water, opting to stay at the counter to drink it. “How long have you been up?”

His gaze flits to the clock on the microwave. “About an hour. I, uh. Made coffee. Hope you don’t mind.” His hand flies to his head as if only just now remembering the state his hair could be in, hurriedly smoothing errant curls (to your disappointment).

Javi’s shirt is rumpled, and you feel guilty as you realize he would have slept in his clothes. You’d been so dead on your feet last night, you don’t even remember if you gave him a blanket. “Not at all,” you reply. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep this late. I didn’t even offer you pajamas or anything last night...” You’re about to continue apologizing when he cuts you off.

“Don’t worry about it, Vecinita. I’m not sure yours would have fit me anyway.” A teasing grin uncurls as he eyes the short pajama shorts under your robe, in a way that’s wholly different from how he might have looked at you before you fixed his leg (a time designation you find yourself referencing more and more often lately: Before-Leg and After-Leg). Now he’s earned such familiarity, and although unexpected, it’s not unwelcome. You still nearly gape at the joke and his once-over, feeling decidedly warm.

Oblivious to your internal temperature rising, Javi continues. “I could do with a shower though. What time do you have work?”

Right, work. “Twelve,” you respond. “Um, I can make breakfast? While you run home and shower. If you want. How’s pancakes? And I think I have bacon.”

Javier looks relieved to have a plan. “You had me at bacon,” he confirms. “I won’t be long.” He starts for the door, scooping up his jacket as he goes.

“No hurry!” You call after him.

True to his word, Javi is barely gone fifteen minutes before he’s back at your dining room table, a fresh mug of coffee cradled in hand. Conversation doesn’t come as readily as it did during your movie night, but the silence in between feels...comfortable.

Javier hesitantly brings up the night before, but only to compliment the form of your kick to the man’s stomach. “Self-defense classes before traveling,” you explain, which led to a continued interest in fighting skills. Your neighbor looks impressed and...intrigued, maybe. Something speculative in his eyes, like he’s reassessing his idea of you.

He drives you to work later, and arranges for Steve to pick you up.

“Heard you had to kick some ass last night,” the blond drawls in greeting.

Well, it was nice of Javier to tell such a flattering version of the story. You roll your eyes, even as you preen the tiniest bit. “Yeah, that’s how it happened,” you grumble. “It wasn’t just Javier swooping in to save my ass like fucking Batman with a shiny gun.”

Steve guffaws at your description. But neither man makes light of the incident. Steve drives you to or from work at Javi’s request when he’s busy, until after a few days you insist that you’re fine, plenty confident that Javi scared off your attacker. Even so, he walks with you to the grocery store the next time you go, swearing up and down that the timing is just a coincidence, that he needs a few things too.

Secretly you’re grateful for that. You feel safe with Javier, and it’s a nice feeling, being protected. You’re just as capable of watching out for threats, but you could never replicate the swooping, shivery feeling low in your belly when his guiding hand brushes the small of your back. Ever since you took his hand that night, he’s been slowly getting bolder with small, casual touches. And every time you let him, his eyes brighten a little more, his breath loosening like he’s afraid you’ll reject each one. As if you’d reject proof of his affection, or the glow of pleasure that smolders in you with every glimpse of it.

At the store, you mentally flip through your cookbook, tilting your head thoughtfully at the cocoa powder.

Javier doesn’t remember inviting you over to bake in his kitchen, but he’s sure as hell not complaining. Watching you competently twirl about the room, sifting and stirring and tasting things in various bowls, is stirring in ways he hadn’t anticipated. The graceful lift of your arms, your eyes narrowed in concentration. He almost wants to interrupt, just to see how you’d react.

He drifts over to see if he can help, when his senses are powerfully overwhelmed by the smell of chocolate.

You stand in front of him, the source dripping suggestively from a spoon in your hand. “Want a taste, Javi?” You lick the spoon slowly, holding his gaze as you close your mouth around it, cheeks hollowing with the effort of sucking it clean.

Javier swallows hard at the dizzyingly tempting scene before him, all but floating toward you.

You smile coyly at him, meaningfully lifting a chocolate-tipped finger. He doesn’t dare move. His lips part as it nears, not knowing what you intend but knowing that he desperately wants it. His breaths come quick and shallow. You trace your finger lightly along his lower lip.

The touch sizzles through him, the taste of your skin far more vibrant than that of the chocolate. Javi can’t help but flick his tongue out to chase it, catching just the tip of your finger before it retreats, and suddenly you look as lost as he feels, staring at his mouth as he works to clean the silky sweetness from it.

As if in a trance, you lift your hand again, your own lips parting. “Want another?” Your voice breathy and uneven. A fingerprint smudging your lower lip, you lift your chin-

And Javier is on you, sucking your lip into his mouth, tasting the chocolate on your breath, wanting more. He groans as you arch into the kiss, devouring you, sliding his tongue against yours. You clutch at each other like this is everything you’d been waiting for.

Javier loses himself in you. Just the sounds you’re making have him harder than he’s ever been, he’d let you lick chocolate off whatever you damn well want-

He jolts awake.

Gasping and sweating and so painfully hard he instinctively presses a palm to his crotch, choking on a groan. What the hell?

He is completely disoriented. The smell of chocolate still pervades his senses. He registers the muted sound of- music? Your singing.

He’d fallen asleep on the couch; the scent in his dream was you baking again. Maybe you dropped something and it woke him up. He can’t focus on anything else right now besides his absolutely throbbing erection.

His breathing is harsh in his throat as he shoves at the zipper of his pants. He wraps a hand around himself, his head dropping back and his mouth open in a soundless moan. His hips buck upward, head still full of you, you-

He snaps in less than a minute.

His release spatters hot over his hand and shirt. He slumps back down into the cushions, panting, spent. As the haze clears, he has only a single thought.

Fuck.

The sunlight is too bright for Javier’s thoughts the next morning. It dazzles him on his way to work, making it even harder to focus when his mind is still full of you. The softness of your lips, your sighs of pleasure, all of it conjured up by his apparently lust-addled mind- whose desperation would only increase the more he longed for a taste in real life.

It’s an immense relief when he finally arrives to the familiar office smell of musty files and weak coffee.

He’s here before Steve today- a rare occurrence, but he had to get out of the house. There’s some fanfare going on when he finally does catch a glimpse of his partner’s blond hair across the floor.

Steve is- holding something? Handing out something? As he makes his way over, the sounds of appreciation from colleagues grow clearer, but it doesn’t sink in until he’s nearly reached the door.

“Man, Steve, you gotta bring this neighbor of yours to the next office party so we can show our appreciation!” The agent’s chortle dies as he catches sight of Javier, who makes no attempt to regulate his steadily souring expression. “Peña.” The man gives him a quick nod and says a last farewell to Steve.

His partner sets the tray he’s holding down on his desk and slowly turns to face Javier. Steve’s gaze lingers over the look on his face, the way he’s zeroed in on the dish, lips puckered like he can’t decide if he should speak.

“Well good mornin’ to you, Javi,” Steve drawls, in that too-knowing way he sometimes had. “Brownie?” He gestures to the tray.

The smell reaches him then. Chocolate. Thick and rich and- a chocolate-coated finger hovering before his mouth, your eyes twinkling innocently up at him- Javier’s jaw clenches.

“What,” he grits out, demanding an explanation with the single syllable.

“Neighbor-lady dropped ‘em off last night. Said they were for us to take to work today. Apparently she tried you first, but you weren’t home.”

Right. Because after staining his shirt with thoughts of you, he’d barely taken the time to throw on a clean one before stumbling out the door, sucking in deep breaths of fresh air as he walked to the nearest dive that served whiskey.

But- you had brought them to him first. Not Connie, or Steve, or anyone else. Him.

“Huh,” he replies distantly.

It’s all too much for Javier to process. He stands abruptly and stalks out of the office, making a beeline for the restroom.

His mind clears a bit after splashing some water on his face. He manages to be cordial once he returns to his desk, but it isn’t long before the emotional impact of his revelation fades, leaving him once more occupied by daydreams of the physical confirmation he craves.

It doesn’t help that apparently the entire fucking building was told about the brownies. Every time someone new comes in he gets a fresh whiff of chocolate, remembers dreaming of sucking the taste off your tongue and the needy noises you made when he did.

For the next several hours he glowers at the tray, perched innocuously on the corner of Steve’s desk. His skin feels hot and tight. It’s possible he smokes a few more cigarettes than usual in an effort to numb his tastebuds, or his olfactory sensors, or whatever the fuck keeps registering fucking chocolate.

Steve eyes him curiously. “You okay, man? You’ve snapped at nearly every person who’s come in here for a brownie. You allergic or somethin? I can move ‘em…”

Javier nearly snarls. “No, I am not allergic,” he says very calmly, the words clipped.

He manages to escape a little while before Steve, citing his early arrival as an excuse to head home. As he pulls into the drive, however, he passes your familiar figure on the corner.

His head thunks against the steering wheel. Steeling himself, he gets out of the car as you walk up.

“Hi Javi!” You beam at him, and his heart nearly beats right out of his fucking chest.

Tiredness lines your face from a long hospital shift, but it doesn’t stop you from looking all caring as you take him in. He doesn’t even want to imagine what you see: his shirt wrinkled from constantly shifting and tugging at it all day, his face pinched from scowling.

“Are you okay, Javi? You look flushed.” You bite your lip in a concerned frown.

It’s a struggle to hide his aggravation. “Long day at work,” he mutters, fumbling with the building keys, trying not to look like he’s hurrying.

Luckily you don’t seem to notice his temper. “God, me too. I’m gonna go take a nap. All I’ve been thinking about all day is getting back in bed.”

The mention of you and getting in bed and Javier about bursts into flame. He stutters out an excuse, all but bolting for his door. The lock clicks firmly behind him.

He stomps through the apartment to his bedroom, shedding clothing as he goes. His shoes and jacket dropped by the couch. His shirt yanked off and flung over a dining room chair. His jeans shoved down at the foot of his bed.

He stumbles to the wall you share, breathing ragged, resting one hand flat against it as the other finally wraps around the hard-on he’s been nursing for hours.

His lip nearly bleeds with the force he bites into it to stifle his groan. Every inch of his skin feels exquisitely sensitive, his blood racing hot in his veins from thinking of you all day. From thinking of you now, just on the other side of this wall. Shedding your scrubs, sliding amidst your bedsheets, unaware of the state you’ve put him in. Or maybe you are aware. Maybe you can hear him panting, strangling sighs of your name as he imagines your lips on his skin, your hand squeezing his cock. Encouraging him sweetly while he strokes himself higher and higher-

And comes harder than he ever has on his own. Shaking and gasping, there’s no way you don’t hear the sound which escapes him then. For a second he feels light-headed.

When his eyes open again, he grimaces at the mess on the wall. As his heart rate settles, his expression further contorts imagining the potential consequences for what he just did. For what you could have heard.

Maybe...he should do something about this.

Post A/N: Sorry for the negative implications about Steve and Connie’s marriage, I promise they’re fine! I’m just a simple writer in need of storytelling devices <3

Also someone pls tell me if I used the wrong form of the verb ‘to sleep’

Fic Taglist: @din-damn-djarin, @thirstworldproblemss, @remembertoreadthese, @knightowl247, @pamguini

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos fic #narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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softkuna · 3 years

Text

Yuuji Itadori || Training

Content ║ Yuuji Itadori x Reader. You and Yuuji train quite often and like to make a competition out of it. However, his quick learning and your insecurities get the best of you.

Count ║ 1,514 words.

Consider ║ Fluff. Fighting. Probably grammatical errors.

Creator ║ Aight! First little drabble up. Hope you guys like it! It’s not nsfw but I was feeling fluffy and Yuuji is a literal sunshine child. Also, whenever I write for the students, I automatically have it be that Jujutsu Tech is a college rather than a high school and everyone is over the age of 18.

“Sir, we’re surrounded!”

“That just means we can attack in all directions!”

A smug smirk tugged the corners of your lips, “I mean… you’re not wrong, Yuu.” The boy gave an overly enthusiastic thumbs up, pearly white on full display. Training with him was always a delight.

You were back to back, crouched in a way that your back right foot was slipped between his wide stance. You made a few enemies from ink, letting them drench the field’s grass in black gel. Five human-sized creatures were your limit after training for what seemed like years. No one needed to know they were the shapes that haunted you at night, paralyzed with fear as they came from all corners of you bedroom. That fear is what strengthened them. You channeled it into them, strengthening the cursed energy behind the specialized ink.

Right now, they were just npcs in a videogame to the two of you, “These ones are 3 points, right?” Yuuji looked over his shoulder at you and you nodded. Training with him was always a game. Human-sized blobs were three points. Child-sized ones were two. Rabbit-sized ones were one. Anything larger went up by every two feet of height. So far, he somehow managed to kick your ass every time. Today would be the day you showed him up. Maki had shown you a few decent moves and like hell you’d let him trample over your personal best with this up your sleeve!

With a springboard hop forward, he drew back a fist, “I’m gonna kick you’re ass!”

“Oh like hell-“ You bent back at the knees, left hand keeping your back from fully colliding into the ground. An ink blob came right for your neck, swiping dangerously had you not ducked, “OI, play fair!” Both palms planted into the blades of grass, balancing you as your legs vaulted upwards. The tip of your tattered sneaker connected crisply with its lower ‘jaw’. The shoe had swept through the inken mandible, triggering the creation to melt to the earth. As the handspring flowed through, you recollected yourself on both feet only to propel forward at the next targets.

Alas, there were only two by the time you had gotten through your first. Yuuji was always fast. Faster than a goddamn car, too. Exceptional physical prowess was presented with each corded muscle before he had even eaten the first few fingers. Rumors from his high school years didn’t fail him once, not even here amongst elite Shamans. It was something you always admired and envied about him. Your own form had been delicate, feminine, and rather weak. Some rumored it to be a heavenly restriction in exchange for your expert control over your Ink Children. You refused to believe that, however. Like hell you’d allow yourself to be restricted like that.

A pout found its way onto your lips as you ducked another straight punch from the last standing enemy. As you swung your punch, a fist made its way to you first, kissing the space between it and your nose. With barely enough time to dodge, you managed to slip to the side, arm hooking into the one that had aimed for your face. Ink exploded onto your clothes and face. Some splattered into your open mouth, triggering a coughing fit. Your shoulder ripped backward as you were practically hauled into a spin with the aggressor’s arm still linked with yours at the elbows. One of you lost stable footing. Your heart squeezed at the impact of dense earth hitting spine, followed by Yuuji landing directly onto your chest with a resounding, “WOAH!” He popped up, forearms caging you in at either side of your head, mouth sputtering apologies, “Didn’t even see you behind that thing! Are you okay?”

Your eyes blazed against his with explosive fury. Words ripped from your throat before thought could come before it, “Yuuji, what the fuck was that?!”

“I wanted to get the last point!” The goof-ball grin sloppily made its way to his cheeks. The world still spun around him as it always did with you. It wasn’t until you spoke again that the grin slipped down, dragging away any semblance of pride with it.

“You were already nine points ahead!” A pout made accompanied averting eyes. Chin nudged to the side to emphasize the massacre of ink littering against the ground, “You couldn’t have saved me the last one?! C’mon man.” You knew it was irrational to cut into him for something so silly. It was just training. He knew how much this meant to you, though, how hard you had to work to even take the impact just now.

Yuuji’s mouth opened the slightest, guilt trickling into his chest like a steady faucet. Whoops. You had always been competitive. Much more competitive than Nobara, even, and temper to match it, too. A large hand came to rustle the back of his hair, moving to scratched his temple, “Sorry. I got caught up in it. And…” Rose crept up subtly to his cheeks and ears to match his rose colored locks, “I wanted to impress you.”

Your head snapped back into place, locking hues with his honey-browns, “Wha-“

“You always make such strong opponents to fight against! I wasn’t even able to hit one last week!” His brows lowered slightly, lips jutting in their own embarrassed pucker, “Just wanna show you I’m strong too. How else am I supposed to protect you?” The sentence trailed out in a grumble, gaze meandering to the space next to your cheek rather than maintaining the kerosene-lit gaze of yours.

A warmth crept up your own cheeks, lips slightly parted in surprise. Really, you shouldn’t be shocked by this. He was always considerate of your safety. The sheer concept that it displayed during something as inconsequential as training was the bolded punctuation mark to his statement. You hated to admit it but, it made your heart flutter in its boned cage.

He wasn’t your stereotypical muscle head (despite that being your first impression of him.) He didn’t look down on you like the men in your family did for being physically weak. In fact, Yuuji looked up to you. He acknowledged your strengths and hard work. For the hours of grueling training to even be able to move the way you did, the boy made it a point to come out and watch you. Yuuji saw how you overcame challenge after challenge. It dowsed gasoline on the fire lit under his ass. Even when it seemed like he was selfishly destroying your own target, he simply was trying to meet your bar of approval. He admired your strength, your graceful movement, your technique, and most importantly he admired you.

“Yuuji,” You began, voice softening from its resin casing, “You don’t need to protect me. I just…” Your hands moved from their crossed position to your cheeks. Eyes fluttered shut briefly before opening again, “I just want to be stronger physically is all. I don’t want to feel like you have to protect me every time we go on a mission because of these noodle arms,” To drive the point home, you wiggled your arms beside his head before lazily resting them at his shoulders, “How the hell’s that fair, huh? Can’t a girl protect herself, Mr. Knight-in-Hooded-Armor?” You playfully stretched his cheeks, tugging the goober’s mouth this way and that, “’sides, you beat my ink kids way too quickly this time! I gotta step up my game.”

A sunshine laugh beamed from the boy above you. His hand swatted yours away, “Alright, alright! It’s almost like I like you or somethin’!” He dipped down, nuzzling your noses together. The way his lashes dipped as his lips connected with yours was transfixing. Why did boys always have the prettiest eyelashes? Why did they have the softest lips? You leaned into him, hands clasping behind his neck and locking him in place. A content hum harmonized between the two.

It was a moment you wished to last forever. The warmth of his sprite-flavored Chapstick slid against your teeth-bitten lips. One calloused hand cradled the side of your neck, thumb stroking the pink lingering on your cheekbone. He was so delicate and careful with you, yet somehow so sure in each touch and movement that it left you breathless every time. No matter how strong you were, he had an ability to make you weak for him every. Single. Time.

Bonus:

The thonk of a used paper towel roll whacking a cardboard box broke the sweet moment apart. Yuuji shoved his face into your neck with a puppy-like yelp before ripping up like an angered Pomeranian, “WHAT WAS THAT FOR, NOBARA?!”

“Maybe if you weren’t sucking face on the training field-!” The two growled at one another. The only thing tearing away their standoff was your shrill cackle. In comedic synchronicity, the two shouted, “What?!”

“D-did you hear the sound h-h-,” Words barely escaped your lips, chest heaving with each labored cry-laugh, “His head made! Yuuji! Oh my god you’re a basketball!”

#☄️.fic #☄️#🍺#🍺.fic #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #yuuji itadori #yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #how many tags do I use?#them all? okay

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labyrinth-runner · 3 years

Note

“Are you scared? Don’t be. ‘ll protect you from today onwards.” For Obi x Reader please?

Title: King of Hearts

Summary: When you’re sent to a neighboring kingdom to marry the king, things do not go as planned. Warnings: None. Word Count: 5400

Tag List: @blackirisposts, @star-whores-a-new-hoe, @nerd-without-a-cause, @all-hallows-evie, @darthserling

As always, thanks to @the-mandalorian-clone-lover for being a low-key Beta.

You could hear the sound of the wheels running over the forest floor. It had been hours since your carriage had set off on its journey towards the kingdom that was to be your new home. Your legs ached from being in the same position for so long, but there was nothing you could do. Stopping now was out of the question, as you had driven into enemy territory an hour ago. Your guards had even advised against looking out the window. After all, the Princess of the neighboring kingdom would be a prime target for the warlord ravaging your kingdom. That was why it was imperative that you got to your new kingdom in one piece. Your marriage to the King would unite your two kingdoms and act as an alliance that would hopefully end the war.

Resting your head against the wall, you absentmindedly played with your pendant as you tried to picture the man you were to marry. You’d met him once, a long time ago. The two of you had both been young when his father, Qui-Gon, had come to your kingdom for a summit. You couldn’t have been more than ten at the time. You remembered meeting an awkward teenager who would talk you out of all the mischief you had planned. He was so serious, with those crystalline blue eyes that looked like they were wise beyond their years. Most of all, you remember he was kind, having an affinity for animals that led him to spend most of his visit in the menagerie.

Now, you wondered what he was like, having been King for a few years since the death of his father at the hands of a warlord. Would he still be kind? Or would years of a harsh life have turned his heart cold? A sigh breezed through your lips as you tried to stretch in the small space.

Thwip.

Thud.

Screaming.

You froze, hearing the unmistakable sound of an arrow being loosed into the air, and the carnage that it no doubt had caused. The horses were startled and strayed from the path, causing the carriage to run over a boulder. It started to list to the side until it was tumbling. You braced for impact as the carriage landed on its side. Peeking out of the window, you noticed you were at the bottom of a ravine.

“I’m a sitting duck,” you realized in horror as you struggled to get the door open, let alone crawl out of the carriage. Part of you wanted to stay put, to play dead, but you knew better than to trust your attackers with your body. If they were thorough, they would finish the job. With that knowledge to steel your nerves, you used all the strength in your arms to pull yourself up through the doorway.

Once on the other side, you closed the door so that it would take them a while to notice anything was amiss. Swiftly, you moved across the clearing towards the tree line. You could hear running water nearby. If you passed through it, then they would loose your trail. Your feet propelled you further and further, vowing to yourself with each step that you would not die here, that the hope of your people’s salvation would not die here, alone, in the forest.

The water was cold on your calves as you plunged into a running river. It was deeper than you expected, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Wading through the waist-deep water, you trudged to the opposite bank and pulled yourself up.

The foliage on that side of the river was dense enough to conceal you from your attackers. Your heart thudded in your chest as you listened to the sounds of footfalls. Through a gap in the trees, you watched as men in dark cloaks came into view, searching for you. When they passed by without incident, you released a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

On the horizon, the sun was starting to set. You knew you couldn’t stay in the woods forever, but you couldn’t travel as you were either. Your clothes were much too rich for the area. No, you’d have to go back to the carriage and hope to salvage some of the clothes that your maid had packed.

Mary, you thought sadly. She had been riding on the front of the carriage when you were attacked. There was no way she would have survived. A pang of guilt washed over you, but you had to shove it aside. Your feelings, as valid as they were, would not enable you to survive if you dwelled in sadness.

Somehow, the water seemed colder the second time around. It felt like tiny knives stabbing into your skin as you made your way back, retracing your steps as best you could in the falling darkness.

Eventually, the carriage came into view, it’s dark form rising out of the shadows. Your luggage was strewn across the ground, with some crates leaking fabrics. Surprisingly, your treasure was untouched.

“So it was never about the money,” you sighed, “It was always about me.”

With a shake of your head, you started to root around for a plain outfit that would be warm enough in the cool night air. You found a blue servants gown and a brown wool cloak that would suit you nicely. Quickly, you changed into it.

Laying on the ground a few feet away was a crumpled body of one of your soldiers. With some care, you removed his dagger and attached it to your own body. You hoped you would never have to use it, but you would rather have and not need, than need and not have.

Lastly, you took your pendant in your hand, a wedding gift from your fiancé. On it was his crest along with your family’s motto on the back. Ad astra per aspera. You tucked it under the neckline of your dress before looking up at the stars. Giving the guiding lights a resolute nod, you started to walk.

You walked for what felt like miles with no end in sight until dawn started to break over the horizon. Streaks of light cut through the canopy overhead washing everything in a warm amber glow. The trees started to thin out and a small town could be seen past the fields and farms on the outskirts near the forest. To your dismay, you could see that the town was crawling with enemy troops. You pulled your cloak further down your forehead to hopefully obscure your face. As much as you just wanted to walk past the town, your stomach was growling and would not be ignored.

Trudging into the tavern, you slipped into a seat in the corner hoping to avoid detection.

The gods were not smiling upon you.

As soon as you sat, a group of soldiers sauntered over towards you.

“Well, sweetheart, aren’t you a new face?” one of them purred as the barkeep placed a bowl of soup in front of you.

You pointedly ignored them, hoping they would take the hint and leave.

Instead, another soldier sat across from you. “Are you traveling alone? You know that’s dangerous with a war on. Wouldn’t want someone as pretty as you to get caught in the cross fires.”

“You know, when a lass ignores you, that’s usually a sign that you should stop talking,” a man said from behind them.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?” The soldier taunted back.

“This,” the man simply stated before punching him in the face.

A brawl soon broke out in front of you. With a sigh of annoyance, you picked up your bowl of soup and side-stepped the kerfuffle to finish eating your soup at the bar.

The men continued to brawl until the owner kicked them out. Then, the owner turned towards you, “And you, too.”

“But I-” you started to protest.

“Out! You’re bad for business,” he said sternly.

You sighed. At least you’d finished eating. It was time to move on from here, anyway. Pulling your hood back over your head, you made your way out of the tavern and into the street, seeing the man and a younger boy nursing their wounds as the soldiers stalked off down the road.

“Are you alright, lass?” the man called out. He looked like a farmer, based off his clothing. The boy with him must be his farmhand, you surmised.

“Yes, but you didn’t have to do that. I was capable of handling it myself.”

“Were you just going to sit in silence and suffer their presence?” he asked, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He had a scruffy beard, but the most amazing eyes.

Your face felt hot as you looked away, “I suppose I should thank you, then. For saving me the trouble of their company.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a kind smile. “Where are you headed, lass?”

“Stewjon,” you said before pausing. Thinking on your feet, you came up with a reasonable lie. After all, you weren’t sure how they would treat the princess of a neighboring kingdom, even if they had just defended your right to eat in silence. “I’m an ambassador from a neighboring kingdom looking to bend the king’s ear.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. You technically were a representative of your kingdom, and you were hoping the King would listen and help his new wife’s homeland. You absentmindedly played with your necklace while you waited to see if he’d accept your lie.

The farmer nodded, “We’ll take you there.” He cast a suspicious look at the pendant in your hand, squinting at it slightly.

Quickly, you tucked it back into your neckline.

They started to walk and you followed them in silence, sizing them up. The two men seemed to have an unspoken language between them, knowing how the other would tackle the stumbling blocks in the road or which path to take to get to the right place. Their’s was an easy companionship from what you could see. Every once in a while they’d crack jokes when they tripped or slipped.

“No wonder you aren’t a knight, if a tree limb can trip you up,” the farmer teased.

“Better me than you,” the younger man quipped. “I don’t know if your old bones could handle a tumble.”

The man thwacked him up the side of his head.

“Ow!” the boy complained.

“Respect your elders,” the man simply stated, sending you a wink.

A chuckle breezed through your lips at their banter.

“See? Even the lady thinks you’re a fool,” the farmer smirked.

“Or maybe she just happens to find my antics amusing,” the boy straightened. “After all, she does have Anakin Skywalker at her service.” He affected a low bow, waggling his eyebrows at you as he looked up.

You giggled, “Lovely to make your acquaintance, Mr. Skywalker. And you, Sir?” you turned towards the farmer. “I should like to know the name of my savior.”

“Oh, should you now?” he asked, his smile slipping slightly. “It’s Ben.”

You nodded, “Ben and Ani.”

Ben looked up at the sky and cursed, “We’ll have to make camp.”

“But it’s midday,” you replied.

He pointed towards the horizon, “Those clouds spell a storm. We’ll want to find a nice, dry cave to stop in until it passes.”

“There’s a mountain ridge up ahead,” Anakin added. “There should be a cave there.”

“The river’s a bit to the south. If the lass wouldn’t mind getting some water?” Ben asked, handing you a canteen.

You nodded, taking it from him going off towards the direction he indicated. You could hear Ben ordering Anakin about as you left.

The stream wasn’t too hard to find, and it was significantly less cold than the one you had found yourself in the day before. As you dipped the canteen in the river to gather water, you caught sight of your reflection. There were trees in your once-neat hair, dirt was caked on your limbs, and bits of blood were dried here and there from where you had been nicked by brambles and branches.

Casting a look from side to side, you realized you were alone. You may not get another moment like this, and you certainly did not want to show up to the palace in such a state. In moments, you had undressed and waded into the running water. Taking a handkerchief from your clothes, you used it to scrub yourself clean, marveling in the fresh feeling of once again being spotless. You leaned back, floating for a moment as you let yourself relax.

“Lass, we found a cave,” Ben called out as he came trudging through the bushes. Then, he caught sight of the clothes on the riverbank and his eyes briefly flicked to your floating body before he averted his gaze.

You straightened immediately. “I’m sorry. I-”

“Please, don’t apologize. I should have been more discreet. I averted my gaze as quickly as I could,” he replied, keeping his back towards you as you got out of the river and dressed.

“How far is the cave?”

“Not very far,” he replied.

Gently, you took his hand to hide the look of embarrassment. His hand was warm around yours, comforting. “Lead the way.”

Soon you found yourself standing at the mouth of a cave. Inside, Anakin had started a small fire and spread out their cloaks to cover the ground to make it softer.

The three of you sat as the start of the storm could be heard outside.

“I guess you were right,” you murmured.

“He’s always right,” Anakin said pointedly.

Ben rolled his eyes, “I just had to learn this from my father at a young age.”

“Because of working in the fields?” you asked.

He blinked, “Y-yes.”

You stared out the mouth of the cave at the steadily growing storm. “Can you tell me a bit about the king?”

“Haven’t you met him before?” Ben asked.

“A long time ago,” you said wistfully. “It’s been a while. People can change. Life changes them.”

“He’s a hard ass,” Anakin smirked. That earned him another thwack from Ben. “Alright, I lied. He’s kind. He’s a real people’s man.” The younger man laid down on his cloak and turned away from you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a nap.”

That just left you and Ben.

At first, the silence was deafening, but then the ice broke and conversation became easy.

The two of you talked for hours about anything and everything under the sun, from childhood experiences to the things you did for fun. There was so much that you two had in common, and talking to him was so easy. You’d never felt more at ease. As you talked, you noticed little things about him. The crinkle near the corner of his eyes from smiling was your first observation. Then, it was how beautiful the color of his eyes were. In the back of your mind, you wondered how soft his beard was. Still, all the while you kept swapping stories and learning more and more about this handsome man who had rescued you. When you woke up on his shoulder later on, you didn’t even remember falling asleep.

“Morning, sunshine,” he murmured.

The rain had stopped, leaving a clean smell hanging in the air. Anakin was snoring softly across the cave. The fire casted Ben in a warm amber glow that you found entrancing. Gently, you reached up to smooth a piece of hair out of his face. His eyes softened as he looked down at you. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing as his cheek pressed into your palm. Your thumb caressed the edge of his beard as you found your eyes settling on his lips. In the back of your mind, a voice said you probably shouldn’t be doing this, but you found yourself leaning in anyway. Your lips connected with his, pressing firmly against him. He kissed back almost immediately, slipping his hand to your neck as his fingers snaked into your hair. The cave was suddenly warmer than you could handle and you pulled back, eyes wide at what you’d done.

Anakin stretched behind you, waking up. “Well, I suppose we should start walking again?”

Ben answered, not taking his eyes off you. “Yes, we should. Then we’ll at least reach the city limits by daybreak tomorrow.”

“We’re going to walk through the night?” you asked in dismay.

“It’s best that we make haste,” Ben replied, getting up and pulling his cloak back on.

“R-right,” Anakin seconded, his brow furrowed as he glanced between the two of you.

“If we make it to the city limits by dawn, then we’ll be able to rent a horse for the last leg of the journey,” Ben added, as a consolation.

You nodded, getting yourself together to follow them out into the late afternoon sun.

The walk was harder now, with the ground slick with wet grass and mud. It was slower going, and somehow you managed to hold onto Ben’s hand the entire time. He kept you from falling, and pulled you out of the mud when you got stuck. He barely looked at you as you went until you needed help. Then, there was concern in his eyes as he steadied you, an extra hand on your arm to make sure that you were in fact alright.

It confused you. You were to be married to a man you hadn’t known in a long time, and yet here you were falling for a farmer who couldn’t even look at you for longer that ten seconds since you’d kissed. Still, you knew that nothing you’d have with the King would ever be as easy as with this farmer, but there was nothing you could do. Your kingdom needed this alliance. However, that didn’t mean you couldn’t stumble or slip a bit more so that you could spend more time with the farmer. All you were doing was prolonging the inevitable, you knew that. Yet, you wanted to do it. You were enjoying this sense of freedom before being bogged down with the needs of a kingdom again.

As night drew nearer, you held his hand tighter, not wanting to get separated in the dark. Ben gave your hand reassuring squeezes intermittently. Once, although you could not see it, you felt him bring your hand to his lips and kiss it when you’d stopped at a fork in the road.

Somehow, they knew the way in the dark. It was almost as if they’d spent years traveling these roads, which you thought was odd for a farmer. Then again, he probably traveled to sell his wares. As it got darker, it grew colder. That was when you felt a cloak being dropped on your shoulders. You nestled into it, squeezing his hand in response.

Your feet were so tired you felt like they would fall off of your body and abandon you. At that point, you realized that you had been walked the majority of the way to the palace, a trip that took about six hours by carriage, but a day and a half on foot. You wanted to stop. You wanted to rest. But, you knew that if you were tired, then so were they. Yet, they kept going to get you to your destination. They didn’t give up, and neither would you.

Finally, dawn started to break. You’d broken out onto wide open road a while ago, but now in the early morning rays, you could see the city sprawling before you and the ocean beyond it. You nestled further into your layers as the sea breeze ruffled the fabric.

“Is that...?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said with a fond smile on his face as he looked at it. “That’s Stewjon.”

“It’s massive,” you breathed.

“Which is why I said we’d get horses to take you to the palace,” he winked. “Besides, the best way to tour the city for the first time is on horse.”

“You’re going to give me a tour?” you asked, unable to keep the giddiness from your voice. Perhaps you didn’t have to say goodbye so soon, after all.

“If that is alright with you,” he grinned.

“You two go on ahead,” Anakin yawned. “I’m going to go home.”

Ben shot him a glare.

Your brow furrowed. Home? But they were farmers. There were no farms around the city.

“I mean... I’m going to find some lodgings,” Anakin chuckled nervously. “You know, my brain is so tired I should get some sleep so I can start making sense again.”

You raised a brow as the boy awkwardly backed away.

Ben gently took your hand and tugged you towards the stables. “Wait here.”

Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you waited for him to return with a horse. He helped you up into the saddle before climbing on behind you. His body was warm against your back and you found yourself leaning into him, resting your back against his chest.

He set the horse into a slow pace, pointing out various businesses and places all over the town. People waved to him as he passed and he waved back.

“You’re quite popular,” you teased.

“Nonsense,” he murmured, “They’re just friendly here.”

“I hope I’m well received,” you sighed.

“I’m sure you will be, lass,” he whispered in your ear.

His voice sent a shiver down your spine in a way you’d never felt before. As you closed your eyes, you pictured what it would be like to have him whisper sweet nothings to you in the dark of your bedroom. His hands were warm around yours as he held onto the reins. They were large and calloused. You couldn’t help but imagine what they would feel like against your skin, fingers splayed as they trailed up your sides.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, severing your connection to your daydream. You couldn’t be thinking like this. Not now.

“Take me to the palace, please,” you said with a sad smile.

“Of course,” Ben replied, but you thought there was a slight twinge of disappointment in his voice.

The rest of the ride was silent. He put you down in front of the palace steps. Each step up them put more and more distance between the two of you in more ways than just physically. With every step, you tried to wall up your heart to protect you. You didn’t dare to say goodbye for fear of not being able to let go. You felt foolish, loving a man so easily and so quickly, but it felt like you’d know him for years, not mere days.

You placed your hand on the door, fingers spread and pushed it in to enter a grand hall. A woman quickly flitted over to you, giving you a hard appraisal.

“I’m sorry, but the King isn’t seeing to the townspeople today.”

“Oh, I’m not....” you trailed off, trying to think of the best way to explain yourself as the woman raised an eyebrow at you. “I’m the King’s betrothed. My carriage was attacked and I had to walk the rest of the way here.” You dug out the necklace that the King had sent you as a gift and showed it to her.

Her eyes lit up in recognition and she curtseyed, “Of course, your highness. My apologies. My name is Padmé Amidala. I serve as an advisor to the King. Please, allow me to show you to your rooms.”

“May I not see the King first?” you asked. “I’ve traveled all this way.”

“Wouldn’t you like to make yourself look....presentable first?”

You looked down and took in your appearance. “I suppose I ought to.”

Padmé nodded and led you towards your rooms. They were grand rooms, richly furnished with all the finest pieces and fabrics. Yet, they lacked the warmth and familiarity of yours back home.

Servants came to draw a bath for you. Once it was full, you dismissed them and sunk into the tub. It’s nice to bathe in warm water again, you thought as you leaned your head against the rim of the tub.

Your eyes cast a critical glance back and forth as you took in your surroundings. As nice as the rooms were, part of you wondered if it were only a temporary arrangement. After all, you’d have to move into the King’s room eventually once you were married.

Quickly, you sunk below the water at the thought. Sharing a room with another person? Hell, sharing a room with a man? The thought was overwhelming.

When you broke back through the surface, you noticed that the sun was starting to set. It was then that you realized just how much time you had spent with Ben around town. It had gone by in the blink of an eye.

Your fingers started to wrinkle from the water and you decided to emerge from the tub. Wrapping a robe around you, you padded back towards your bedroom to find Padmé waiting for you.

“Your highness, we must take some measurements for your wedding dress,” she informed you as a group of handmaidens swarmed into the room.

You were guided up onto a pedestal and turned this way and that as they draped a gown around you, pinning and stitching things in place.

“How soon will this be finished?” you asked.

“Don’t fret, your highness, I’ll have the dress finished in time for your nuptials tomorrow,” the seamstress said as she packed up her things.

“Tomorrow?” you asked incredulously. It was so much sooner than you thought.

“Of course,” Padmé smiled, “The King will want to marry you at sunset tomorrow, as is tradition.”

“Isn’t that... quite soon?” you asked.

“You’ve known each other for years, have you not?”

“Well,” you sighed as you pulled your robe back on. “May I at least speak with the King first?”

“I’m afraid not, your highness,” she said with a sad smile, “His majesty is in a meeting with the war council tonight. It’s to go over plans for reinforcing your father’s troops. I don’t think he’ll be out any time soon.”

“I see,” you said, a frown of disappointment apparent on your face. “I’d like to enjoy dinner in my room tonight, Padmé. There’s no sense in eating in the dining room if I am to be eating alone.”

“Of course, your highness,” Padmé nodded, ushering everyone out the door. She paused in the doorway before turning back to you. “If it helps at all, your highness, please know that his majesty is a kind man. He is just as nervous about this as you, but I can promise you that everything he will ever do is to protect you. When you were late in arriving.... well, I have never seen him more distraught. I was sure he’d scour the kingdom just to find you.”

“I see,” you murmured, looking out the window at the vast kingdom. “Thank you, Padmé.”

She left without another word.

When dinner arrived, you hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but then you remembered that you hadn’t eaten since the tavern fiasco. Regardless of whether or not it actually was the best meal you’ve eaten, your hunger made it so.

By the time you’d finished eating, the sky had turned into the indigo depths of a lightless ocean. You settled on the window seat and opened the window to feel the chill night air on your face. Your farmer was out there somewhere, with his eyes like the sky in the morning when you have a whole day ahead of you, bright and nary a cloud in the sky. As you closed your eyes, you pictured his face, his strong jaw, his beard as it brushed the shell of your ear during the tour of the kingdom, his strong arms as they wrapped around you. Never had you felt more safe.

You fell asleep on the bench, dreaming of your farmer. It wasn’t until much later that you woke up to a pair of arms carrying you to bed.

Fluttering your eyelids, you noticed a shadow holding you. Your first instinct was to push back as you gasped in fear.

“Shhhhh, lass,” a man murmured as he tucked you into the covers. “Are you scared?” He gently smoothed your hair out of your face, “Don’t be. I’ll protect you from today onwards. Always.”

In your heart, you believed him. You couldn’t make out any of his features as he retreated towards the hall, but when he opened the door, the candlelight reflected off the crown on his head. By then, you could barely keep your eyes open and let yourself succumb to sleep.

Padmé let you sleep in the next morning, having guessed that you had been through quite the ordeal and were thoroughly exhausted. When they finally woke you up, it was around noon and they started to get you ready for your wedding.

It was all a blur as you felt your nerves begin to rise, settling into your chest like a weight. You couldn’t eat, instead just allowing yourself to be taken over by the process and trusting your new handmaidens and Padmé completely.

Soon, you found yourself at the chapel as the afternoon sun started to set, swathing you in colorful light from the stained glass. Your hand came up to squeeze your pendant in your hand, wishing that your father could have been there. Ahead of you stood a man with his back towards you, a crown nestled in his auburn hair. Part of you wondered if you could really go through with this, but then you remembered that this was for the good of the kingdom. Your life was never just yours. You lived for your people, and what your people needed was for you to solidify this alliance. For your own sake, you hoped that love would come later, once Ben was long forgotten. If you could ever manage that.

You walked with a measured gait towards the front of the chapel, coming to rest next to the man that would be your husband. Your heart was thumping in your chest, but then he turned to you and time stopped.

He watched with a smile as your eyes widened and your mouth parted slightly. He was so very handsome. His beard looked incredibly soft. His eyes were a brilliant blue and you were certain that you’d drown in them someday. He was your farmer, and here he was holding his hand out for you to take.

“I don’t understand,” you murmured as you took his hand.

“When you didn’t show up as expected, I had to go searching for you. We traveled the main road and found your carriage. Then, Anakin and I broke off to find you,” he explained.

“But I thought-”

“That I was a farmer,” he grinned, “I couldn’t put a target on my back when there was already one on yours. Traveling the way we did was better for all involved.”

“You could’ve told me,” you replied, squeezing his hand.

“I hadn’t seen you in years. I wanted to know you just as you are, and for you to know me in the same regard,” he replied, kissing your hand.

“And the name Ben?” you asked.

“A nickname from an old friend who lives in a cloister,” he explained.

“I love you,” you told him earnestly.

His hand came up to cup your cheek, “I love you, too, lass.”

The bishop cleared his throat in front of you and you both shared a wide grin before turning back towards him to finish the proceedings.

For the entire ceremony, you were thinking of the man standing next to you and how you knew that no matter what, everything would be alright. You recited your vows, exchanged your rings, and turned back towards each other.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Your majesty, you may kiss your bride,” the bishop grinned.

Obi-Wan’s eyes trailed down your face towards your lips as his arm wrapped around your waist to pull you close. His other hand came up to tilt your face towards his. Gently, he stroked his thumb across your cheek.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you settled your hands on his chest.

He leaned down to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours. To your surprise, he dipped you back, causing you to chuckle against his lips as he straightened the two of you out. Then, he scooped you up and carried you towards your castle so that you could live happily ever after.

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan fanfiction #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x you #Obi-Wan x Fem! Reader #arranged marriage fic

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