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wishesunderthestars · 8 months

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The King's Advisor // Ch. 1

Pairings: King!Yoongi x Advisor!reader

Summary: The king's advisor is the most crucial position in the kingdom, the king trusts her judgment and always listens to her opinions and advice. They are a formidable pair but behind closed doors, the king and his advisor bicker and throw back-handed insults at each other more often than not. The feelings of dislike are very much mutual. She is a champion at testing the King’s patience because she knows she is too valuable to his rule to face repercussions. So it’s bickering and sarcasm dripping from their lips–

Until war breaks out.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.6k+

Warnings: war, injuries

“Well, that was stupid,” you said, leaning back on the chair and crossing your legs.

Yoongi, who had just closed the wooden doors of the council room, turned to look at you with raised eyebrows. The meeting of the King’s Council had just ended and it was just the two of you left inside.

“I beg your pardon?”

You huffed. “That boy isn’t ready to be a captain, he isn’t ready to be a lieutenant even. He doesn’t have the barest idea of how to lead, he can barely fight himself. The fact that his father used to be captain doesn't mean anything.”

“His family is one of the most influential in the kingdom, I couldn’t deny him the position,” Yoongi said. “I don’t want any disputes with them and there would have been a lot if I didn't promote him to his father’s position.”

You leaned your elbows on the long table. “You could have given him a smaller team, told him you would promote him to a larger one when he was ready. Would you trust him to lead a hundred men into a battle? Or defend a city? Because I wouldn’t.”

Yoongi stood opposite you. His long blond hair was pulled up into a neat topknot with a gold and black headband securing it in place. “His family wouldn’t be happy with that. They would question whether I trust them and whether they have done enough for the kingdom.”

“I, for one, don’t trust them,” you said. “They have been salivating after the throne for years, looking for higher and higher ranks in the military and positions in your council. If anyone ever tries to overthrow you, it will be them.”

Yoongi put his hands on the table, bending forward. “Don’t you think I know that? That’s why they don’t have a seat on my council and why you are here instead of their eldest son.”

“If their eldest son were in my place, you would already be dead,” you said getting up.

“Watch your tongue.” Yoongi gritted his teeth, a fire burning in his eyes. The day had been hard on him, he had been in meetings since the morning and he had several hours of sword fighting practice as well. It was easier to rile him up when he was tired and you were the only one who wouldn’t pay for it.

You got up and sauntered up to him. “And if I don’t? You know as well as I do that he won’t be a good captain. He isn’t ready for it and he might never be ready for it. His team will be a liability.”

“I know what I’m doing. An incompetent captain is better than a family with connections like a spiderweb planting words against me.”

“If I heard word of that, I would cut off their webs with silver scissors. They aren’t the only ones with connections,” you said. “Things are tense on our northern borders, we shouldn’t be treating military positions lightly.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, up close you could see the reflection of the candles in them. “The-”

A knock on the door interrupted him and you both turned to look. The door opened without any announcements or permission from the King. Namjoon walked inside, his short brown hair combed back, splashes of ink on his white sleeves, and a few papers in his hands. Namjoon was the only person other than you who could barge into the council room like this and face no repercussions.

He took one look at the two of you and closed the door behind him.

“What are you arguing about this time?" he asked. You rolled your eyes and Yoongi scoffed. "Forget it, I don't need to know. We have to go over these papers so get comfortable."

Wordlessly, Yoongi sat down on the chair at the head of the table and the two of you took the ones next to him. Namjoon had missed the meeting because of these papers so they had to be important.

You and Namjoon were the King's most trusted members of the Council. The three of you would often gather late at night or early in the morning to discuss matters of the kingdom and make the difficult decisions.

Namjoon was the son of one of the best warriors the kingdom had ever seen and it had been a surprise when Namjoon hadn't followed in his father's footsteps, choosing books and ink over sword and armor. He had soon become known for his smarts and his eloquent speech—he was the one who went over the King's speeches, putting into words what Yoongi couldn't—and had been easily granted a place in the King's Council. His friendship with the King had a lot of people doubting the decision but soon he proved that he belonged there as much as anyone else. More really.

Unlike Namjoon, you and Yoongi hadn't been friends at any point in your life that you could remember. Maybe when you had been too young to read or write and you were hiding behind your mother's skirts, but not since then. Your father had been the late King's advisor and as his only child, you had been prepared to take his place since you could pick up a pen. He and your mother didn't have any other children and the fact that you were a girl didn't deter them, none of the past King's advisors had been female but your father was determined you would be the first one.

You had spent days and nights over books guided by your father and the best teachers in the kingdom, the same ones teaching the future king. You would see each other occasionally but didn't exchange more than a few words. During your teenage years, your fathers deemed it wise for the two of you to share a few of your lessons, you needed to build trust between you if you were to work together in the future. Instead of friendship, a rivalry brewed. You didn't remember how it started but you couldn't forget how it continued. Exchanging jabs about who was the best at which lessons and who did better at tests. Glaring and provoking each other.

When his father passed on and Yoongi ascended to the throne, it was his time to choose his personal advisor. You had been training for the position all of your life but you were still surprised when he asked you, bearing the gift of a gold bracelet engraved with flowers and embellished with precious stones. The King had to base his decisions on many factors but the most important was trust. Trust to work towards a bright future for the kingdom. Trust to support him through everything.

You didn't ask him why he chose you, you didn't voice any of your questions about trust. For years, you worked together and it was almost like nothing had changed from your teen days.

Half of the candles had gone out by the time you had gone over all of the papers. Your eyes hurt and a headache was brewing behind your temples. Your usual late nights ended earlier than this.

Namjoon gathered the papers with clumsy movements. Yoongi had to catch one before it flew away after Namjoon shoved it off the table.

"I think I may fall asleep if I stay any longer," Namjoon said when all the papers were safely in his arms. You could relate to that. "I would recommend going to sleep now. Have a good night."

You echoed his words and he left. The door closing was the only sound in the dimly lit council room.

You rubbed your eyes and looked at the King. His hair was coming undone and it glinted like threads of gold in the candlelight. His sharp eyes were softer, the way they got at night when his walls weren't as high as the castle's.

"I will be going then," you said, getting up and smoothing down your dress. There was no reason to do it, no one other than the guards would see you at this time. It was more out of force of habit than anything else.

"Wait for a moment," Yoongi said. You stopped before you could move to the door. "The Lee boy will be trained under Hoseok. He will be answering to him and if anything goes wrong I trust Hoseok to make it right. I wouldn't jeopardize the safety of the kingdom."

"It still doesn't sit right with me," you said. You knew that Yoongi had the best interests of the kingdom in mind but that didn't mean you always agreed. More often than not, you didn't. "But that's enough for tonight. It's late and frankly, I'm too exhausted to debate about the Lees. We can talk more about this tomorrow."

Yoongi opened his mouth and closed it again. "Don't forget a lamp. Unless you want to walk in the dark."

"Of course," you muttered, annoyed that Yoongi had to remind you. The torches in the hallways would have gone out a long time ago. "I would have remembered to take one."

"I don't doubt it," Yoongi said, smirking. Ignoring him, you picked up an oil lamp from the top of a large chest and tilted it close to one of the lit candles to share the flame. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, my king."

You saw his eyebrows twitch before leaving the room. He wasn't fond of his friends using his title to address him. You wouldn't exactly put yourself in that category but you didn't use his title when it was the two of you, you didn't use it in the council either. You would throw it out there occasionally just to see his reaction.

The guards were standing at attention on either side of the door, their hands on their long swords. They stared ahead as you walked down the empty corridor.

A few days later, you strolled into the private training grounds. It was a wide space surrounded by trees, right next to the gardens accessible only to the royal family. You were one of the few exceptions.

The continuous sound of metal clashing on metal rang in the otherwise silent place. The swords glinted and glimmered, reflecting the light of the midday sun. Yoongi and Hoseok were sparring, their movements so quick they were but a blur.

Yoongi's hair was pulled up in a tight knot and sweat was running down his face and his sculpted chest. His shirt was thrown aside, too much of a nuisance after what looked like several hours of practice. You had to swallow to ease the dryness in your throat.

You watched them—transfixed by their deadly dance—until the King's eyes locked with yours. Others would have cowered at the power in his gaze but you held it steadily like you had done all your life. One second of distraction and Hoseok's sword touched his pale neck, a whisper away from drawing blood.

"And I win," Hoseok said. He turned around, his eyes falling on you, and he smiled as if he understood a joke. "I see. I guess I owe this one to you."

You grinned and walked closer to them. "I'm not sure about that. I think you would have won either way."

"You should join us more often then," Hoseok said.

It was a view you both dreaded and craved to get used to. You didn't make a habit of visiting the training grounds, the King's private ones, or the much larger common ones. The art of battle wasn't one you had delved into. Your father had taught you the basics of protecting yourself but your interest had stopped there. And although watching shirtless men training, wielding swords and bows, and sweating was appealing in theory, you found that the reality wasn't as satisfying.

That's what you reminded yourself and the heat swirling in your stomach.

"How much longer will you be in our company?" you asked Hoseok.

The situation in the North wasn't getting better. Soldiers from the neighboring kingdom had been breaching the borders for months, engaging in small-scale conflicts with your forces stationed there. This was clear as day provocation but you didn't want to go into war.

Hoseok would go along with his team to survey the state of affairs and send a report back.

"The day after tomorrow," he said, sheathing his sword. "It isn't a short trip and it would be for the best to arrive as soon as it is possible." He looked at you and Yoongi, who had turned away. "I will be leaving then. Go easy on him. He's tired," he told you. Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. "I hope we have a chance to catch up before I leave."

"I can always find some time for you," you said.

Hoseok's smile widened before bidding you goodbye and walking away, leaving you and Yoongi alone.

Yoongi gulped down the contents of his leather waterskin, his Adam's apple bobbing, shiny with sweat. "What are you doing here?"

"Am I not allowed?"

"That is not what I said." He put away his sword in its jeweled case and left it on a stone bench. "If you are here that means you were looking for me for something."

You didn't deny it, although it wasn't the complete truth either. There were plenty of matters pending to be discussed and there were about ten things you weren't seeing eye-to-eye and you had to reach an agreement on. Nothing new. But the reason you were there was none of those things.

You had gone on a walk to clear your head after a morning of socializing with some of the most important people in the kingdom and your feet had carried you to the royal gardens before you realized where you were going. Finding Yoongi and Hoseok wasn't your intention. But you weren't about to say that.

Yoongi crossed his arms and looked at you, awaiting an answer. Your eyes strayed to his bare arms and chest and you scolded yourself and pulled them back up in what you hoped was a subtle manner.

"Are you going to stay like this?" you asked.

Yoongi gazed down at himself and what could have been a smirk played at the edges of his lips. "Why? Is it bothering you? Have you not seen a man's body before?"

"Are you a child?" He knew very well the answer to that question. Hell, it wasn't the first time you were seeing him half-naked. That was one of the perks—or cons, depending on your viewpoint—of your job. "For a king, you forget about decency an awful lot."

"When have you cared about decency?"

He picked up his white shirt that had been carelessly thrown on the bench and wiped the sweat off his face and neck with it. You had to look away.

"Where have you been all day? You weren't in your office and you didn't attend tea."

"Were you disappointed?"

"On the contrary," you said sharply. "I was only wondering if you were alive."

He extended his arms to the sides. "As you can see I am very much alive. Sorry to disappoint. I was here."

"All morning?" you asked, not convinced.

The royal gardens weren't a place Yoongi visited often. You were more likely to find Namjoon here observing nature with a book in one hand. Yoongi hadn't displayed any fondness for the place other than the privacy it could offer but his rooms could offer the same privacy and he preferred them.

"I'm the King, can I not take a morning to myself?"

"It's because you're the King that you can't," you shot back. "Did you sign those papers I gave you?"

"I did."

"Did you read them or did you sign them blindly?"

"I read them." Yoongi walked to you until your faces were inches apart. "I read every single one of them. I don't do things halfway. Is that all?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Do you perhaps want more work? I can arrange for something. There is always more work to be done."

Yoongi scoffed and backed away. "You're impossible."

"Thank you, I try," you said. Your mood sobered as you remembered what had been swirling in your head for the past week. "A letter arrived ahead of the envoy from Harfush, they will be here in three days."

Yoongi's demeanor changed, his shoulders tensing. "We will be ready when they arrive. We have prepared for everything."

"Almost everything," you pointed out. "They are set on this. I know it. They have been pushing for months now and it has only been getting worse. This isn’t going to end with a talk with an envoy. They’re hoping to get land from us in exchange for stopping their attacks but that is only prolonging the inevitable.”

His eyes hardened. “If it comes to it then so be it. We are not giving them anything. We will fight and they will regret bringing the war to us.”

“I will hold you to that.”

The envoy arrived and you were proven right. They were after your northern lands, a large stretch of the kingdom. Yoongi told them in the most political way to go fuck themselves, which—to no one’s surprise—the delegation wasn’t pleased with. They left two days later with thinly-veiled threats of war.

Your kingdom hadn't seen war since the days Yoongi's great-grandfather was king. Peace was a fragile thing but Yoongi's father and grandfather had protected it like the most precious jewel in the realm despite the aggressions of their neighbors. But it had never got that bad. Petty thievery here and there, a few arrogant nobles that dreamed of war. The carefully balanced scales had tragically tipped during Yoongi's reign.

The turning had found you prepared. Your soldiers were many and had trained tirelessly with the cloud of war hanging above them. Your numbers were fewer than the enemy’s but you had something they didn't. Fire. Pyres burning in your souls, stronger than forest fires. That was the gift of the people of Tinigris, the nation of the Tiger.

And so it was only a matter of time.

“What are you still doing here?”

Yoongi was standing over the large map of the continent. On it, figures like chess pieces were carefully arranged, depicting the bigger picture of the stationed troops—your own and the enemy’s.

Yoongi looked up at you, the light casting deep shadows on his face. His hair was falling in his eyes and underneath, dark half-moons were inked in his porcelain skin. "What does it look like?"

"Like you are exhausting yourself going over matters we have already discussed to great lengths when you should be resting."

Yoongi's eyes flashed with something unreadable in the flame of the candles. "The drums of war are at our doorstep, minutes away from spreading like an infection in our land. It is not the time for resting."

"If you want to be dead on your feet tomorrow when we will actually discuss strategy and diplomacy then by all means, it is not the time for resting. If you want to be able to participate in the conversation, I would advise you to go to sleep now."

His hands twitched on the table. "I am not the only one awake, am I?"

The truth was that you had laid in your bed, closed your eyes but sleep refused to come to you. You had tried and failed. Your room was too dark and restricting and you were too restless. You had dressed in a simple black velvet dress with a low neckline, which some of the older nobles would consider scandalous, threw a silky shawl over your shoulders that did nothing to keep you warm, and wandered into the long shadowed hallways.

You couldn't tell him any of that so instead you said, "No, you are not the only one."

The majority of the little soldiers were placed along the borders. Hoseok had sent back a letter confirming what you already knew. There was a war brewing in the North and there was no stopping it. You couldn't run away from the storm, you could only walk into it prepared.

Yoongi's hair wasn't done up in its usual style but he must have carelessly pulled it up himself. Several strands were framing his face and he wasn't wearing his headband. In the quiet madness of the night, he seemed almost vulnerable.

"Why do you speak to me about sleep when you are as awake as I am?" he asked.

"Because at least one of us should sleep," you said. "It will be a long day tomorrow and days will only get longer from here."

His gaze went back to the pieces on the board. "I know that if I go to my chambers, I will find no more peace than you did." The shadows seemed to grow longer on his face. "We have avoided war for years. All of our attempts have been in vain. I'm sending my people into a bloodbath."

"If there was anything more we could do, you know very well we would have done it," you said. "Your people know you don't want this war. We can't stand here while they attack our lands. If we don't fight back, they will raid the villages close to the borders. It will only get worse. Kill, take slaves, do unspeakable things. Blood will be spilled either way. The North is thirsty for it. Better for our people to die defending their homes than be slaughtered with their families at night, unaware."

Yoongi's jaw clenched. In his eyes, you saw the fire and you saw the tiger. "I won't let them. I will fight for them until my last breath. If the North wants blood they will have it. It will overflow."

Yoongi glowed brighter than any flame in the room. Fierce and alluring in the way a sword is, tempting you to cut your finger on the blade to test how sharp it is.

"I won't offer empty words, to you I never have," you said. "It will be hard and we can't know how long it will last. There will be death and there will be wounds that won't heal. But we won't back down. We are the descendants of fighters, of warriors of great deeds. We prospered in peace and we will thrive in war. We will hold the borders, we will hold them back. And I believe we will emerge victorious."

Yoongi reached for something behind him and upon placing them on the table, you realized they were two glasses and a bottle of wine. He poured a generous amount into each and extended one to you.

"Let's drink to that," he said.

"To victories," you said and your glasses clinked.

Everything moved on faster from them, a river getting more and more narrow and running faster and faster. Strategies—political and military—, estimations, gathering the troops, reaching out to allies, making plans. You weren't a great warrior but you had studied battle strategies for years and you viewed battlefields as chess boards. You were great at chess.

Nobles, soldiers, townsfolk, and villagers alike were talking about the war in hushed whispers. Everyone knew it was approaching, a black galloping horse, neighing and squealing. Letters were being exchanged swiftly with the troops on the northern borders, keeping you informed about the moves of the enemy. When war was officially declared, you had to be ready.

Tensions rose in the palace as they did between the two kingdoms. You could barely sleep. When you closed your eyes, you saw images of a red sky, swinging swords, disembodied limbs, and unseeing eyes. You saw destroyed villages and burned houses. They haunted even your dreams. Most nights, you spent in the council room with Yoongi, both of you restless. Sometimes you discussed strategies, sometimes you were quiet in each other's company, other times you fought the way you often did. Upon returning to your rooms, you were able to steal a few hours of sleep.

Time was but an illusion to you. Days blended into each other yet you were intensely aware of each one passing. You drowned in meetings with the council, late nights with the King, and dealing with the noble families—an art you had once upon a time mastered but was slipping through your fingers.

Tensions were rising in the palace. Yoongi was on edge, running from meeting to meeting until he was bound to burn out. Your patience was running thin.

And the King, most of all, was testing it.

"You can't ride at the front in the battle," you said, repeating yourself for what felt like the thousandth time. You were in his office with Namjoon, debating his stupid ideas. "If you are killed, the war is over. Who will be left to lead the soldiers? You have no heir, no brothers or sisters, no one to continue the line."

"Who will lead them then?" Yoongi asked ferociously. "Who will they follow if not their king? Hoseok will be by my side. We will protect each other."

You gripped the glass of wine tighter. You wanted to get up and pace but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "This isn't training. This is a real war, protecting each other won't guarantee that either of you are safe. You will be the main target the moment you step into the battlefield. Do you expect the king of Harfush to charge first into battle? To fight at all?"

"I'm nothing like him!" Yoongi said sharply. "I will not hide behind my soldiers while they fight my kingdom's battles! I refuse to cower in the camp like a coward."

"I'm not asking you to," you said, trying to keep your voice from rising. "I'm asking you not to run first into the battle and become an easy target. Do you know how easy it will be for them to shoot you with arrows?"

"She is right, you know," Namjoon said. He was sitting on the other chair in front of Yoongi's large wooden desk, bent over a few papers. What he was writing, you had no idea. Yoongi narrowed his eyes in betrayal. "You want to lead the charge, I understand that, it's the honorable thing to do but they aren't honorable. If you are dead, our people won't know who to follow. There will be chaos and Harfush will take advantage of that."

Yoongi got to his feet, it sounded like an earthquake. "What would you have me do then? I will fight! You can't hold me back from fighting for my kingdom!"

Silent words passed between you and Namjoon. Neither of you liked the idea but it was true that you couldn't stop Yoongi from fighting. You would have to tie him up to keep him in the camp.

You sipped on the wine, an action that seemed to only agitate Yoongi further. "You will fight. But not in the front lines and you won't have only Hoseok with you but your personal guard as well. The ones who are willing to lose their lives to save yours."

"Is that it?" Yoongi asked, something animalistic in his expression. It was coming closer to the surface the past few weeks, clawing and snarling. "Are you making all the decisions for the war? Deciding what is best for MY people?"

Namjoon paused his writing. "We are not making any decisions for you. We only want you to see reason. We are here to advice and guide you, not force your hand."

You held back a huff. "Riding first into battle is suicide. And who will lead YOUR people then? When you are no longer here to do it."

"Why don't you lead them since you seem to believe you can do it so much better?" he snarled. His hand struck the desk with a loud thump, papers, candles and glasses clattering. Namjoon steadied the ink bottle before it could spill and paint the room blue. You held yourself back from flinching.

The world stood still for a moment like it was holding its breath. Yoongi's lips parted. Quickly he pulled back his hand and looked away.

"I'm sorry," he said, gritting his teeth. "I let my temper get the best of me."

Your heartbeat was rising but you kept your voice steady. "I have no desire to lead, only to advise you. I can do nothing more. It isn't only your life on the line. It's the kingdom. Your life is more important than honor or your desire to prove you are a good king."

His jaw clenched. "I will think about it." A dismissal of the conversation. Namjoon went back to his papers and you rested back on the chair, your fingers drumming the tune of war on the arms.

The days grew smaller and the nights longer. Your blood was either freezing or burning. The songs in the court were lifeless, a front no one was believing anymore. Fewer people were good enough pretenders to sing and dance. Wine tasted dull on your tongue. Underneath everything, you were scheming.

War. It had turned from a whisper into a chant. It was the cold breath on your neck in the middle of the night, chilling you to the bone. But you were ready for it. As ready as someone could be for the cruelty humanity had created.

It didn't start with fire or a war cry. It started with a letter. A declaration of war sealed with the royal seal of Harfush.

The night before the King's departure, you and Yoongi met in the council room.

"You are not coming to the front," Yoongi said, thunder flashing in his face. "You are to stay here and rule in my stead. There is no place for you on the battlefield."

You stood your ground, you were used to Yoongi's dangerous looks that would have made anyone else cower. The candles burned around the council room like pyres in the night.

"I am no ruler," you said. "I am the King's advisor and I should be where the king is. Be it the Castle or the battlefield. I will go where you go."

Yoongi clenched his fists. "You are not coming to the front and that's the end. I need you here to take care of the kingdom while I'm gone."

"Namjoon is more than capable of taking care of the kingdom, the council listens to him more than they listen to me." Many in the council believed you were too young and too inexperienced to be the King's advisor. No one would say it in front of Yoongi but amongst themselves they whispered that he had chosen wrong. "You need me there," you continued. "I have studied battles all my life, I am one of the best war strategies you have. It would be foolish not to take advantage of that."

"I have studied battles all my life too and I will have my generals with me. Your place is here in the castle and that is where you will stay."

Anger licked your insides with tongues of fire. "Are you ordering me?" When he stayed silent, you went on. "Do you seriously believe they need me more here than on the front where our fate will be decided? You have always been the better fighter, I was never good at that, but when it comes to strategy, I was better and you know it. Let me be there for you, let me do what I'm meant to do. What is a King's Advisor without a king?"

"Don't." The power was gone from his voice, his head bent. "Stay here. The kingdom needs you."

"The kingdom needs to win and they need you. And I shall be by your side,” you said, not leaving him any chance to contradict you. “I won’t go into the battle, obviously. I will stay at the camp which will be protected and if they reach the camp, that means the war is over. It wouldn’t make a difference if I were there or in the castle. I would be doomed either way.”

“If we lose,” he said through gritted teeth as if it pained him to think about it. “You can escape the castle, go to another country, take Namjoon with you and start anew.”

You were fuming. “Would you run away if you had the chance? Would you escape if you were in my place? Take the coward’s way out?” He looked away. “I am not going anywhere.” Concealed in a pocket of your dress, you pulled out a blade as long as your hand and threw it on the table. “I would rather slit my neck with this blade than run away. I either do this here or at the camp. You choose.”

Yoongi stared at the blade. He was as tense as a tightrope. Watching him was like watching a forest fire. Until something crumbled or it could have been the tremble of the flames surrounding you. He drew back, pulling his eyes away.

“Don’t do it,” he muttered at last. “Stay here.”

“I can’t.”

“Do as you please then.”

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

#bts #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fic #bts fanfic #King!Yoongi #bts series #bts scenarios #bts au #bts yoongi #king yoongi #royalty au #namjoon #hoseok

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the-writer-ofthe-fandoms · 10 months

Text

Silent Cosmos (Edward Cullen)(Ch. 1)

Pairing: Edward Cullen x GN! Mute!Reader

Words: 3.0k+

Warning(s): Mentions of past car accident, mentions of minor character death/parents dying, swearing, implications of past bullying, mentions of high school lacking services, blood mention.

A/N: YAY i finally have this done. I’ve had this idea since before i started grad school and finally got it done! I hope yall enjoy :) This series takes place before Victoria’s army comes to Forks and Edward may be OOC but like, oh well.

Also in this series, Bella and Edward had a mutual break up w/ no hard feelings <3

Series Masterlist

---

"On foot

I had to cross the solar system

before I found the first thread of my red dress.

I sense myself already.

Somewhere in space hangs my heart,

shaking in the void, from it stream sparks

into other intemperate hearts."

--Edith Södergran, 'On Foot I Had to Cross the Solar System'

On one unfortunate night when you were seven, a drunk driver hit your parents car. Your mother on the passenger side died instantly, your father later succumbed to his injuries in the hospital. You were injured severely, but the doctors managed to keep you alive... At the cost of your voice. Chunks of glass tore through and stabbed your neck; the damage to your larynx was the worst, the second was nerve damage. You could speak in a very harsh, almost whisper-like, voice but it caused an intense amount of pain. You were upset. You hated that driver for what they took from you.

Your aunt and uncle took you in, and were able to help you adjust as you grew. They learned and taught you sign language, they helped you cope with the loss of your parents as best they could, and were always supportive. Despite their work lives keeping them away, they always tried their best to give you attention when they had the free time.

You found ways to enjoy life again, particularly in the stars. They were almost comforting to you when you were alone, looking out your bedroom window. You weren't sure why you have such an affinity for space and what it holds. Maybe because your father brought you out at night to point out all the constellations and their stories. Those moments with him started your interest. And now, you believed your parents were amongst the many stars in the vast universe.

You grew content with not having a voice. You adapted and overcame the curveball life sent your way. You just wished the pain wasn't constantly lingering.

---

It was the day you started going to your new highschool in Forks. It wasn't ideal transferring to a different school, but your uncle's job called for it. He was a firefighter and he was offered a sizable pay increase and rank promotion to fire captain if he took up the position for the Forks station. Your aunt, a nurse, was able to transfer to Forks hospital. They discussed the idea of moving with you of course, and you not wanting to hinder your uncle's promotion or damper his excitement, you supported the move from California to Washington.

You could already tell this rinky dink school wouldn't have anyone that understands ASL and the school said they are still looking to hire someone to be an interpreter of sorts, so you were mentally preparing yourself for the mess you may be entering. At least you transferred only three weeks into the new school year, that would make any school work you needed to catch up on relatively easy. It also helped it was your senior year as well.

As soon as you got out of your car, all of the heads of the student body snapped in your direction. You guess they've never seen a new kid before. You make your journey towards the building, hoping that no one would bother to talk to you. You already saw a teen walk up to you, he had straight black hair and a toothy grin.

"Hi, I'm Eric. You're the new kid." He seemed friendly.

You offer a little wave and sign, hoping he would get the inclination you could not speak.

"Shit... I don't know sign except..." He gave you the sign sorry before pointing to his ears and back to you. You shook your head and tapped your throat. "Oh! You can't speak." You nodded. "Sorry about all the confusion. Welcome to Forks High, home of the Spartans. I'm pretty much the eyes and ears."

You simply nod along when necessary and smiled as he gave you the very quick run down of most of the immediate gossip of school, which was centered around you, the new kid. He seemed like a nice guy but glancing at the clock you passed by in the hall you knew it was close to your first class.

"And don't get me started on the Cul-What?" You interrupted him as you held out your schedule to him, pointing to your first class. "Oh yeah, guess class is starting soon. Lets see... you're in 103 for English with Mr. Baker which is..." He glanced up. "Right down the hall. I have History right next door."

You smile at his help and follow him through the sea of students.

You wave Eric goodbye and enter classroom 103. You felt eyes of everyone land on you, but none more eye-catching or captivating as the gold pair near the back of the classroom. His gaze was intense, eyes wide, as he stared at you. You held his gaze. You weren't sure what to think at the moment but before anything could come to mind, an older gentleman walked in and stole your attention. You assumed correctly this was Mr. Baker.

---

Edward was the first to arrive for his first period class. He was always punctual, but there was a difference now. He no longer had Bella in tow.

It was a mutual end to their quick relationship. While her blood did appeal to him greatly, the fastness of their relationship hurt them both emotionally at the end. It was purely fascination of each others beings that they mistake as something else. While it did hurt, Edward could admit to himself he wasn't distraught over it. They remained friends and he was content with that.

Slowly, other students began filling the classroom as the clock ticked on. Everyone filling seats they usually sat in despite there being no assigned seating. No one ever sat next to him, often feeling intimidated by his status as a Cullen. The vampire paid them no mind, occupying his attention to watching the typical Forks rain traverse down the window he always sat by. He tuned out everyone's thoughts the best he could, letting his usual melancholy about his nature linger in his mind.

Edward perked up when he heard an fast-beating heart breakthrough his attempts of zoning out. Shifting his focus to the doorway his eyes latched on to the new student.

You.

It didn't take reading thoughts to feel the buzz of a new student arriving in the small school.

He felt... strange. Much like with Bella, your scent invaded his senses and made him thirsty, yet, that wasn't what caught his immediate attention.

It was the eyes. Something about them captivated Edward. He wasn't sure what about them had him staring at you, who now stared back at him. The vampire attempted to discern your thoughts and he caught an inkling of curiosity starting to bleed out before the teacher took your attention away. His stayed on you, and didn't pay him any mind or had any idea he wad, and focused his enhanced hearing on the conversation.

"Hello, new student?" The teacher greeted and softly spoke your name. The auburn haired male watched as the you nodded.

Edward's curiosity peaked when he finally heard their thoughts, clear as the days outside of Forks.

"Yes, that's me. Do you know sign?" He heard their thoughts as he watched their hands easily relay in sign language. I'm expecting a no they internally sighed.

"Oh shoot I wasn't told..." A worried look passed on the teachers face as his sentence trailed off. Edward can hear his thoughts complain that the school failed to inform him about the new student outside their name and grade. A look of exasperation briefly flashed on your face.

Who would of fucking thought Forks High, a small-ass school, would not inform their teachers. Fantastic. Wonderful. I love it. It was a pointed statement that had Edward both mildly shocked at the language and pretty amused. I wonder how much others outside of Eric will put up with me here.

Edward sighed. He knew he shouldn't involve himself with another human but he couldn't help it. Whatever captivated him and the resignation you mentally expressed already had moved him. He got up from his spot and quickly moved to the front of the classroom.

"Apologies, I don't mean to cut in but I know sign."

---

You blink at the golden-eyed student he approached you and the teacher. You felt a grateful smile tug on your lips as you faced him. Immediately, you felt some appreciation and felt good about being wrong on your previous assumption.

"Thank you, Edward." Mr. Baker smiled in relief. Edward gave the teacher a small, tight lipped smile at him and faced you. The teacher introduced you to him. "And this is Edward Cullen."

"I'm sorry for any inconvenience." Edward spoke as you signed, his voice soft and velvety. Observing his face, you watched as his brows furrow at your statement, which became almost a second nature for you due to the way your previous school treated you. You often faced irritated glances or your existence ignored entirely outside the feo close friends you accumulated.

"Please relay to them-" Mr. Baker spoke but you immediately shook your head and held up a hand.

"I am neither deaf or hard of hearing, sir. I just can't speak." Edward translated for you again. "I look forward to class with you both." A smile appeared on his face again.

"You too. And you aren't being an inconvenience at all. It's the fault of the school, really." Mr. Baker offered a kind smile. Edward left the two of you, as if knew he wouldn't be needed again. "Take a seat wherever you want, I don't do assigned seating unless it becomes an issue." Mr. Baker gave you a kind smile and gestured for you to pick out a seat, while he moved to the classroom computer. You take a glance around, only seeing three spots open.

Your eyes landed on the one next to Edward, causing you to perk up. Though, you hesitated, his small smile and the single, subtle nod assured you it was fine to sit by him. Holding your backpack strap a little tighter, you move between desks to join him.

---

Edward watched as you sat next to him. You offered him a quick smile before you started pulling out your notebook and your small pencil case. You didn't look over at him as you stared up at the board, waiting for class to start.

The vampire was curious and while he knew it was an invasion of privacy, he couldn't help but try and focus in on more of your thoughts. Except he was met with...

What? His brows furrowed. Edward felt overwhelmed for a moment, his sense felt almost deprived as he tried peering in your mind again.

Edward suddenly saw what he perceived as a galaxy. Stars, planets, moons, a sun... it was vast and it was breathtaking. It wasn't something he never saw before, this detailed, in a humans mind. He was able to view this scene for just a few fleeting moments until he suddenly felt warm energy push against his mind.

The vampire blinked. His presence was back in classroom 103. He glanced toward you. Paying close attention, he didn't see anything that indicated you were in any way aware of what just occured. He heard the teacher swear under his breath as he attempted to get the projector working, and used this moment to speak with you.

Softly, he called your name, bringing your attention to him.

"How are you liking Forks?" Edward recognized he was a bit awkward, but you gave no inclination that you minded or judged him.

"It's wet. But I don't mind it. The scenery is nice." You signed and it was as if the cosmos that warded him from your thoughts was lifted. Hearing your thoughts again after being blocked out by the cosmos left him perplexed and curious.

"Forks does have its charm in scenery." He chuckled. "But I assume that isn't why you moved?"

"No, but it definitely is a bonus." You smiled. "My uncle got a promotion so we moved up from California."

"What does he do?"

"He is now the fire captain here."

Edward had a kind smile and offered a small congratulations to him. He then spoke again, "What does your class schedule look like?"

You reached into your zip up hoodie pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, you slid it to his desk. His golden eyes scanned the paper and he felt some sort of happiness that your schedules almost align completely. The only class difference was your last two classes, which would have you taking gym and history without him.

"Looks like we will be seeing each other a lot. We have almost all the same classes."

That's a relief. Edward suppressed a smile at your thoughts. I hope we can be at least friendly with one another.

"Since we have most of our classes together, would you like to be friends?" He asked. He could already hear Rosalie scolding him for getting involved with another human, but he didn't particularly care what she would think.

You were another anomaly to his, otherwise, stationary life. He has no plans to try and initiate a quick romantic relationship again. He simply was curious to the stars that lingered behind your eyes.

---

It was nearing lunchtime. You glanced out the window of your math class while the teacher closed out her lesson and began explaining what the homework was going to be. You were very grateful for Edward sticking by you in each course. He was able to help you talk to your teachers, answer and ask questions, and made Forks high a little more welcoming.

You had met two of his siblings in that time frame, Emmett and Alice, who were both a delight. Alice already expressed how much she was excited to finally get to know you, which you assumed she was wanting to meet the new kid, and Emmett offered to watch your back in gym with the biggest grin you've seen on a persons face. It also warmed your heart to find they also knew sign too.

The initial worry of being a forever outsider like before began melting away. So far things have been pleasant unlike your last experience.

As you mind wandered off to old school memories of bullies and loneliness, you were still unaware of Edward trying to discern your thoughts again. You missed the look of confusion and frustration on his face. Although, you did manage to hear him make a noise that sounded like frustration, which snapped your attention on him.

"Everything okay?" You ask him. He glanced up at the teacher who was now facing the board writing the homework down.

"Just... wanting class to be over." Edward gave you a tight lipped smile. "Mrs. Johnsons' classes are usually a bore."

You nodded with a smile and silent chuckle.

The class bell rang, signaling an end, and practically everyone ran out for lunch. You eyed the crowd trying to leave and shrug your shoulders. You scribbled down the equations Mrs. Johnson assigned before putting your class materials away and preemptively pulled out your brown bag lunch.

You glanced to Edward while you both stood up. You weren't sure if you should continue sticking by his side until it was time for your last two periods or find your own corner to decompress. Perhaps giving him a break from-

"Are you ready?" His soft voice cut through your thoughts. You blink, pausing for a moment, before nodding.

"Lead the way." You smiled, though you were sure it came off as nervous. There will be so many people...

"Would you like to sit with my family and I, or would you like to go somewhere quiet?" You looked at him a bit shocked, were you that easy to read? You could see the twitch of his lip like he was going to respond but he kept quiet.

"Somewhere quiet, just for today."

"Follow me then."

---

Rosalie sighed as she leaned against the table, waiting for her siblings to join her and Emmett for lunch. She then looked to her partner and leaned against him, who laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Her golden eyes followed Bella's form with a glare as she sat down with her friends.

"Come on, babe. Her and Edward have no hard feelings." Emmett spoke in a quiet tone.

"It's still a danger to us." She grumbled.

"Nope! She still becomes a vampire like us." Alice suddenly sat down with a bright smile. Jasper was quick to sit down next to her.

"Even after what happened with the Volturi and James?" Emmett asked.

"Yep. While the course of her and Edward's relationship definitely changed, she still becomes a part of our clan."

"Great." Rosalie rolled her eyes and then glanced around at the table. "Speaking of Edward, where is he?"

"Probably off with the new kid." Emmett smirked. "They seem pretty nice. Edward's been helping them since they can't speak."

"Another human?" She looked to her partner then to Alice. "Did you..."

"Have a vision of them? Yes. The day before Edward and Bella parted their romantic relationship, I had a vision of them coming to Forks. And then after meeting them, I saw them and Edward, looking pretty close." She smiled and giggled.

"Great, another human who is going to choose to be a vampire." Rose scoffed.

"Rosalie-" Alice's usually bright expression drops. Everyone at the Cullen table looked at her with worry as it appeared her eyes glaze over. Jasper immediately gripped her hand under the table as he could feel a wave of sadness wash over from her.

"Darling?" Jasper whispered.

Alice blinked rapidly. She looked to the others with a worried expression. "I... I didn't see the specifics but... It wasn't their choice."

It was silent between them. Rosalie's eyes were wide, Emmett clenched his fist under the table, Jasper tried his best to calm everyone, and Alice simply blinked and tried looking to the future again.

She could see you, crying and writhing as the venom from a bite on your arm took hold, blood all over you. Edward and Carlisle were right by your side, speaking. But she couldn't hear what they were saying.

All she heard was a high pitched ring.

And then the vision flashes a blinding white and she swears she could feel intense heat against her face.

She was back at the table again with her family. It was the same vision as before. Never had she seen such a bright light, heard such a noise, or felt anything like that from a vision.

"We have to talk to Carlisle."

#edward x reader #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x you #edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen imagines #twilight #twilight saga #twilight x reader #twilight edward cullen #twilight edward #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #twilight x you #twilight x y/n #silent cosmos

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the-californicationist · 5 months

Text

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 06)

Johnny texts you while he's deployed, but when he calls you one night, you are forced to face your consequences.

MDNI/18+

Link to AO3

OCTOBER, MONDAY MORNING, TWO WEEKS LATER

Your apartment was bathed in the cold gray light of a foggy morning, and you curled your duvet closer around you trying to stave off the dawn’s chill. You’d been awake for a while, which was very uncharacteristic of you. Usually more of a late riser, the only reason for your early bird behavior was Johnny MacTavish.

He was three hours ahead of you, and every morning, when the sun came up in the Urzikstani hillside, you were sent an image of Johnny’s hand, clutching whatever his breakfast was that day. Sometimes it was a tin cup of black coffee, other times you’d get a banana or a protein bar. But, it was always his giant hand and a sherbet orange sky. This morning, it was cloudy and dark, and his breakfast of choice was a slab of toast, smeared with butter and jam.

MoChroi: sunrise_sand.jpg

You: wow. quite the delicacy today. cant believe you found actual jam out there

Mo Chroi: bit suspicious. when the food gets better the missions get worse

You: uh oh

Mo Chroi: dinnae fash thief xx

Mo Chroi: writing today?

You: yep. and meeting with my prof

Mo Chroi: what ya got on then

Mo Chroi: give us a show bonnie

Mo Chroi: is it naughty?? lol

You: nope

You: rangers_tee.jpg

You sent a photo of your torso, cutting out your head, wearing his own tee shirt. His typing bubbles percolated along the bottom of the screen immediately. Then, an indignant response:

Mo Chroi: thief!! xx

You: youre the one who stole my hair tie

Mo Chroi: hairtie.jpg

Mo Chroi: needed a hostage

Mo Chroi: your bad habits are rubbin off. stole cap’s clothes out of the shower this morning

Mo Chroi: price_hat.jpg

You: you learn quick mo chroi

His typing bubbles appeared, and then they disappeared. You watched them pop up in the chat and then vanish three more times until finally all you got was silence. This was a common occurrence, so you tried not to overthink it. Over the past two weeks of texting with him, you knew he disappeared sometimes. He’d get a call to go into the field, or there would be some crisis. You wondered if his captain had discovered his prank.

The room was still cold, and you were reluctant to leave your cocoon of warmth, but you needed to write. You had promised yourself that you’d go into the office early today before your meeting with your major professor. After a deep sigh and some very challenging mental gymnastics, you stuck a leg out and onto the frigid concrete floor.

Your apartment was very modern. So modern, in fact, that it had been a challenge to make it feel homey. There was very little room inside for anything more than a queen bed, a short futon, and your desk. Your bathroom was sleek and full of brutalist, functional, concrete stylings, but the kitchen was barely big enough for a sink and a toaster oven. You had kept the futon for guests, not that you had many (any) visitors, but aside from the stacks of books in the corners of each room, your entire studio was practical to a fault.

But, it was enough for you and your rescue cat, Marlowe, so you didn’t complain.

On the wall opposite the front door, a huge plexiglass window overlooked the River Kelvin, conveniently situated right across from some student housing so you could access the bus. Not having a car went against your Floridian roots, but you’d fallen in love with the ease of public transportation.

After throwing on an oversized sweater and a pair of fleece-lined leggings, you slipped on your wellies and headed to the bus stop. You’d brought a big thermos of coffee, ready to face the day.

Your phone buzzed again.

Pidge: I’m so excited to see you this weekend!! :D

You: me too! is hammie picking me up after all or no

Pidge: Yes, I told him to be at the platform at 4.

You: cool

Pidge: Have you spoken with my brother?

You paused for a moment, riding the elevator and staring at your phone. You didn’t want to lie to her, but you probably shouldn’t tell her the truth. The truth was that you’d been texting her brother every day since he left for leave. You went with a half-truth instead:

You: yeah a few times why

She did not respond. You waited for the other shoe to drop like a blindfolded prisoner waits for their firing squad. The bus came to your stop, and you climbed on, sitting on the carpeted seat closest to the door, knowing your stop was only three away.

When you got to your office, your phone buzzed again. You set your bag and your coffee down before you even looked at it, avoiding touching your cell as if it had thorns.

You flipped over the screen.

Mo Chroi: make it to the office?

You: office.jpg

Mo Chroi: have a good day today thief

Mo Chroi: helicopter1.jpg

Mo Chroi: going on a wee trip. afk xx

You: promise xx

Mo Chroi: promise xx

Promise. Promise. It was you and Johnny’s little code. You hadn’t liked hearing about his “little trips” in the beginning, especially after he had shown you a photo of his truck, riddled with bullet holes. You used to say “good luck”, but you didn’t like that sound of that. You hoped luck had nothing to do with it. So, you just asked him to promise to text you back or to promise to be safe. And he always replied that he promised he would. Now, it had shortened to your one-word ritual. You always said it and he always said it back.

Another buzz:

Pidge: No reason. He has my phone charge the little nugget.

You: omg lol

You were not laughing out loud. If anything, you were sighing in relief.

It took most of the morning, but you fell into a routine. You had your meeting, came back, and wrote some more. Lunch was a pre-packaged lunch box from the student center and a refill on your coffee. You missed dinner. The sun set on you as you finished a critical section of your thesis, looking it over for flow and mistakes.

Worn out, and finally feeling hungry again, you checked your phone on your way back to the bus stop. No new messages. You waited for the bus, flipping through his photos again as if you would have forgotten them from when you looked at them from last night. Or the night before last.

You stopped looking at them, challenging yourself to have a non-Johnny thought in your head for once.

Maybe you would make a ramen with eggs in it tonight.

Maybe he’ll text you back.

You could watch another episode of that K-drama you liked.

Maybe he’ll send you a picture of him shirtless.

You could go for a run.

Maybe he will run his tongue back over your —

The bus came. You blocked out your thoughts from your mind, desperate to regain some semblance of control.

THURSDAY NIGHT

It had been three days, and you still hadn’t heard from him. You tried not to think about all of the terrible reasons why that might be the case. But, you did. You thought about them all the time. Every time you checked your phone or read an email or scrolled through your feeds; it was the only thing you thought about.

You had his shirt on again, eating leftover Chinese on your futon. You were thinking about all of the things you needed to take care of before tomorrow. It was Pidge’s bridal shower weekend and you were trying to wrangle all the final touches together. You’d rented out Ettrick’s, at Pidge’s request, and you had sent the invites two weeks ago. Almost everyone had RSVP’d yes, so you were looking at nearly 45 people to host. The custom bridal cookies were set for pick up when Hamish took you into town tomorrow afternoon, and the champagne was paid for. And you were dreading it.

You were excited to be there for Brigette. She had always been there for you. When you first moved to Scotland, you were well and truly alone. But, she met you for lunch almost every day after class, claiming to need her caffeine fix. But, as time went on, you realized she wanted to be friends. Having no one and being in a new country was so tough, but she had made it feel so easy. So, even though you hated the prim and proper social situation of a shower, you resolved to tough it out.

You put the half-eaten Chinese back in the fridge and climbed into bed. Your phone buzzed as you went to put it on the charger.

Mo Chroi: you up?

Your heart stopped for a moment, making your breath hitch in your chest. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to open his message.

Mo Chroi: camels.jpg

You: omg! are those REAL

You: shes not a camel but ill trade you one critter pic for a Marlowe pic

You: marlowethecat.jpg

Mo Chroi: her cheeks are brilliant lol so big

You: so your mission went okay?

Mo Chroi: lol yeah. and we got the guy who owned the camels to take a cool pic of us. can you tell which one’s me?

Mo Chroi: group_pic.jpg

You: gotta be number 3

Mo Chroi: how’d you know

You: your wide shoulders. and you always stand like that

Mo Chroi: like my shoulders do you

You: yep

You: you should send me a selfie

There was a long pause. You were a little afraid that you’d overstepped a boundary. Sure, his long, hungry tongue had been buried between your legs three weeks ago, eating you like he was starving, but people were cagey about their online privacy. You backtracked:

You: if you want to. nbd if not

Mo Chroi: selfie.jpg

You checked the image, and your heart sank like a stone. Johnny wore a green and yellow bruise over his eye, and his head had been shaved.

You: you okay? bruise looks nasty

Mo Chroi: you should see the other lad

You: and they shaved you?

Mo Chroi: got a nasty wee cut on the back of my head and doc sheared me like a damn sheep

He sent you a series of frowny faces and sheep emojis, and you felt a wave of calm settle in your chest. The latent fear was still there, and would be until you saw him again, but it was good to know he was alright.

FRIDAY MORNING

You were back on the bus, toting around your overnight bag, planning on heading to the train straight after your colloquium lecture this afternoon. Your phone had been beeping at you all morning. Johnny was begging for you to record your talk, asking you to let him sit in on your “class”.

You: johnny its not a class! its just a lecture. we have to give them every now and then to show what we’ve been doing with our research. its not fun. you’d be bored.

Mo Chroi: meirleach! i dinnae care how fun it is. let me see!!

You: campus.jpg

You: look. its all stuffy and campusy. you wouldnt like it

Mo Chroi: youre breaking my heart lass xx

You smiled. He was so bright, and he made you feel like you were so very special. It was no wonder he was such a danger to single women everywhere. Your confidence was soaring.

When you made it to your office, you sent him another picture of your current work. You were writing a short paper on German poems, not really related to your thesis, for a conference coming up in the spring.

You: look. you dont even speak german! it would be like torture

You: german_poem.jpg

Mo Chroi: so cool. im beggin you. let me watch you. i won’t say a word.

You: maybe if you come back a little early from leave next time, you can sneak into one

Mo Chroi: if i survive this training, i will.

Mo Chroi: thinking about seeing you up there teaching. got me all turned on

You sent him an emoji with a shocked look on its face, feigning coy shyness. He was relentless.

Mo Chroi: think youd let me be teachers pet?

You: more like class clown

Mo Chroi: you did seem fond of all of my tricks. wanna see what else i can do?

You: lecture_hall.jpg

You: i have to prep for this talk. keep your naughty thoughts to yourself soldier

Mo Chroi: yes maam

Mo Chroi: wait!

You: what

Mo Chroi: before you go. what color knickers are you in

Mo Chroi: just trying to imagine your lecture

Mo Chroi: with accuracy

Mo Chroi: cmon lass. for extra credit

You smiled down at your phone again, knowing your answer was going to win this little back and forth game he was playing.

You: im not wearing any this morning. gonna do my washing at your place.

Mo Chroi: jesus mary and joseph

You: and all the saints?

Mo Chroi: every one of them xx

Your lecture went off without a hitch. You earned yourself a few crowd questions and a round of polite applause. Stopping back by your office on the way out, you grabbed your laptop and headed for the bus stop. You’d forgotten your phone was on silent, and it wasn’t until you made it to the train station that you realized it. Two missed calls from Pidge and three texts from her brother.

You checked the texts as you returned her call, unable to hold yourself back from seeing what he wrote to you.

She answered quickly,

“Hey! Are you on your way?”

“Yep,” you replied, “I’ll be there around three forty-five, I think.”

“Okay, perfect. I just wanted to tell you that we’re adding two more to the list. Anjali invited Steph and Tiff. Is that alright, babes?”

You tried not to groan directly into the mouthpiece,

“Yes! The more the merrier.”

What were you going to do about the seating chart? You’d figure it out later.

“Fantastic! You’re amazing, hen. You know that?”

“Anything for you, bestie.”

She kissed you over the phone and hung up. You let out that sigh you’d been holding. As much as you loved her, you were ready for your friend’s wedding to be over with..

You checked the messages from Johnny, looking to escape from your thoughts again. He was the perfect distraction.

Mo Chroi: oh fuck no

Mo Chroi: its dog day for training

Mo Chroi: army_dog.jpg

You: you dont like dogs?

Mo Chroi: not these

Mo Chroi: had a bad time with attack dogs in russia a few tours back

The train arrived and you got settled. You weren’t sure how to respond. It was back again, that funny feeling in your chest about him being in constant danger. You didn’t know how to handle it. It wasn’t like you could ask him to stop. That was his job, and he was one of the best. He’d been enlisted on this elite task force, and even though you barely understood what that meant, you knew it was special. What right did you have to stand in the way of his greatness? The world needed Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, and you were just a distraction.

You waited for him to text again, a distraction for you and you for him. A two-way street. That’s all it was, right? How could it be anything more?

You thought about his sister. She’d been so painfully clear about her boundaries. You imagined telling her you liked him, telling her you wanted to date him. She’d explode. There’d be Scottish yelling, and Scottish fighting, and Scottish siblings rowing at each other all over the house. You couldn’t do that to her, especially not now. So, you just went back to distracting him.

You: did you get bitten?

Mo Chroi: yeah, right on the belly. those bastards. can you see it

Mo Chroi: shirtless.jpg

You gasped audibly, hoping no one had heard you on the train. You’d already seen him naked, but having a picture of his bare, muscled torso on your phone was another thing entirely. You glanced around, checking behind you and clutching your screen to your chest, holding it to you shamefully, praying no one saw it.

You typed a message, then deleted it. You tried again, and then deleted it. You knew he could see your text bubbles popping up, and it embarrassed you to no end. Eventually, you decided to just be honest.

You: youre so damn hot

The wait was going to kill you. Seconds became minutes, which became hours, which became eons. You stared at the bottom of your message like it would disappear if you looked away. You opened the picture of his bare torso again, unable to stop yourself from indulging in his huge body. You knew how those muscles felt, and you wanted to feel them again.

He didn’t respond. Your heart sank like a rock. You felt the train screech to a halt at the station, and it took everything in you to pocket your phone and leave the car.

You marched down to meet Hamish, trying to control the look on your face.

“Hey! Over here!” he called to you from the carpark.

You saw his smiling face and tried to match his energy,

“Hey! Thanks for coming.”

“You bet,” he said as he took your bags.

“Can we stop by the bakery around the corner? They’ve got all the cookies and pastries we ordered for tomorrow.”

“Of course, lass. No problem. Hop in.”

Hamish drove you around, the perfect gentleman, carrying box after box of dessert for his fiance’s shower, storing them carefully in the boot of the car.

“Wow, these smell incredible, don’t they,” he crooned, “Wish I could crash your wee party.”

“No boys allowed,” you said wryly, smiling at him, eliciting a genuine laugh.

The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence. He talked a little about his research, and you shared a bit about yours, mentioning your latest lecture. Otherwise, you checked your phone constantly.

Then, just as you pulled into the driveway of the MacTavish house, you got a text.

Unknown: Hello this is Captain John Price. Sergeant MacTavish’s phone is dead, and he is making me text you the word: promise.

You: oh thank you. can you tell him promise back?

Captain: Roger

Your stomach twisted for a different reason now. He wasn’t upset with you, which was a relief, but he had just shipped out on another mission. It was so sudden, it seemed like an emergency. You saved the captain’s number in your phone, just in case.

After hugging Pidge and helping Hamish with the boxes, you unpacked your bags and started the laundry. You met Pidge in the living room, watching her put the finishing touches on some gift bags.

“These are cute,” you commented, feeling the soft ripple of the ribbons tied around the bags in your fingers.

“Thanks,” she said as she fixed one of the bows, “Hope I made enough.”

“They’ll live,” you smiled.

“Hey, did you hear from Johnny again?”

“Uh…no, why?” You panicked.

“He said he doesn’t have my charger but now that muppet is not answerin’ me. Gonna pop him when he’s down for Christmas, I swear.”

“He’s coming back for the holidays?” You asked, a little too enthusiastically.

Pidge cut her eyes up at you briefly, responding in a measured voice,

“Yeah, just a week. Why?”

You wracked your brain for a reason, pretending to look at the calendar on your phone. Finally, you said,

“Think he’d drive me up from Glasgow? The train is awful at Christmas.”

“Oh,” she sighed, “God, he’s so irresponsible, babes. Not sure I trust him to get you here on time. But, I’ll threaten him. He’ll do it for me. He’s been so accommodating lately. Johnny boy is like a new man.”

“Oh, really?” You weren’t sure where this conversation was going, but you pried anyway.

“Did you know he paid for the rehearsal dinner? The whole damn thing! Having it at the wee distillery and everything. Right proper party we’ll be havin’. Cannae believe it.”

The Auchentoshan Distillery was Old Kilpatrick’s pride and joy. He’d spent a pretty penny if he’d booked it out for her.

“He loves you,” you confessed softly.

“He tries to,” she said a little bitterly.

You watched her pack up the bags, and you began to wonder about their relationship with each other. It was clear to you that there was some immovable object that was being pressed upon by some unstoppable force. They were at a quiet, bubbling impasse, ready to boil over at any moment. Yes, they loved each other. But, Johnny and Pidge had diverged somewhere, and it was a rift that needed to be mended.

The washer buzzed. You went to move over the clothes.

“I’m heading over to grab the girls. Wanna come?” Pidge asked you, her keys in hand.

“No room,” you observed, realizing they wouldn’t all fit in the car.

“Ugh, guess you’re right, hen. No worry, we’ll be right back. I’m excited to have a girls’ night.”

“Me, too,” you lied.

Well, it was a half-lie. You didn’t mind a girls’ night. It was more the fact that you’d have to hide your phone from view as you waited for Johnny to report he was back safe and sound.

After Pidge left, you crawled into his sheets. The memories of you and your soldier came flooding back again, but this time they swirled together with all of the complexities that you were facing. The simplicity of that brief night you shared had become warped by reality, and you realized you needed to come to terms with your emotions before you got hurt.

FRIDAY EVENING

Your phone buzzed in your hand, waking you. It was warm from being on the charger and covered up by your body. You hoped that didn’t break anything. Sleep had taken you over like a surging wave. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were from your week.

Unknown: heyyyyy this is soaps mate kyle. he wanted to let you know we’re back.

You: thanks for letting me know

Kyle: you bet

You were kicking yourself. You should have asked if he was okay. Just when you were about to ask Kyle to check on him, you heard the keys jingle in the door. Swinging your feet to the wooden floor, you got out of bed and met the gaggle of ladies in the foyer.

Cheek kisses, bright hellos and how-are-yous filled the once-quiet house, and you pocketed your phone, trying to distance yourself from the pang of concern.

You tried to keep up with the fast-paced conversation, but you weren’t the social butterfly that Pidge was. Anjali, Bekah, and Cherise were all gushing about their own lives, and you had very little to share. They were polite enough, asking you about your studies and pretending to care when you answered them.

“Oh, cool,” Cherise said, sipping on wine out of one of Pidge’s nicer glasses, “Poems are cool.”

“Yeah, I was Juliet in that one play,” Bekah said, proudly.

“And she’ll never let us forget it either,” Anjali rolled her eyes, and everyone laughed.

They were quick to forget you again, turning back to their recent Tinder date disasters and successes.

“And this bloke - the one with the beard thing - he ask me and this other girl to the same restaurant, on the same night! I thought she was gonna kill him right there in front of the maître de!” Anjali lamented.

Cherise smiled like a Cheshire cat,

“Lachlan is taking me on his boat next weekend.”

“We know! Shut up about the boat, you slag,” Bekah clipped.

Cherise shot back quickly,

“You’re just mad ‘cause Soap hasn’t texted you today.”

You gave the girls your full attention now. You darted your eyes to Pidge who rolled them, but looked otherwise unbothered. Bekah turned her phone around and you saw the image she was eager to display,

“He’s on bloody thin ice. I asked for a pic of him in his uniform, and all he sent me was a picture of some nasty sand!”

Your chest clenched tight enough that you couldnt breathe. It was your picture. Your morning photo from a few days ago. He was holding his breakfast, outstretched, and you could even see your hair tie on his wrist, the rolling dunes of the desert stretching out before him into infinity.

“Men, am I right?” Anjali finished her wine.

Maybe she was right.

SATURDAY MORNING

You’d slept beside Anjali that night, sharing the bed willingly but not enthusiastically. She had snored through most of it, and you’d barely gotten any sleep. It wasn’t just her snoring that kept you up. In fact, you were using her as a scapegoat. You had been thinking about Johnny.

It was like you were having a war in your mind. On one hand, it was just a picture of some sand, but on the other, you had no idea how many texts they had shared before or after that. Your heart broke easily, shattering melodramatically, whining about how you weren’t special and that if you didnt control yourself, you’d be sorry for it. He was just a playboy, just like everyone said.

Your brain, however, begged you to see reason. He sent her a picture of sand, not his naked torso, and he had forced his teammates to text you your passcode when he went on his mission. Surely that was enough proof that he cared about you and not Bekah.

It wasn’t enough, said the heart.

It has to be enough, said the head.

It shouldn’t even be happening, said the soul.

You watched the sun peek through the blinds just as they had when you’d been wrapped in Johnny’s arms, naked and warm against his pink skin.

You sighed and got up to shower.

The party was at two, so you had plenty of time. You made it over to Ettrick’s early to help set up, walking alone since you knew the others would be in heels and wouldn’t all fit in the car. You’d brought flats, sensible but stylish, and a comfortable, albeit sparkly, maxi dress. You felt like shit. Sleep would have been nice, you thought.

Hamish had delivered all of the boxes for you this morning, and the wait staff at Ettrick’s was setting it out for you. You rearranged it as artfully as you could, and you were just about finished when your phone buzzed.

Mo Chroi: phone’s alive! sorry i disappeared on you thief. forgive me?

You: glad youre ok

You: party starts soon

You: cookies.jpg

You: dessert_table.jpg

Mo Chroi: wow! did you do all that? pigeon is gonna be chuffed

Mo Chroi: heading out to the next spot

Mo Chroi: helicopter2.jpg

You: want me to tell Bekah hi? she was waiting on you to text her back last night

Mo Chroi: ?? no

Mo Chroi: why

Mo Chroi: what did she say

Mo Chroi: thief?

You: just that she was hoping you would text her back. idk

You thought about it for a little while before sending a final text.

You: i think she wanted more than just a sunrise.

SATURDAY NIGHT

You had three missed calls from Johnny, but you were too busy trying to deal with gift unwrapping, keeping the peace at the over-crowded tables, and rushing out appetizer trays when the wait staff became too overwhelmed. It was chilly tonight, but you were sweating under your long dress.

You thought about what you’d said to Johnny, and you were mad at yourself for trying to get a rise out of him. You didn’t want to be the one playing games, and you needed to curb your jealousy. He was allowed to text whoever he wanted, just like you were.

You: sorry. cant pick up. busy with your sister

You: champagne.jpg

Mo Chroi: answer my calls thief

Mo Chroi: i have to drive the rig but im calling you as soon as we get to our site

Mo Chroi: trucks.jpg

Mo Chroi: at least tell me when you get back. promise

You: promise

SUNDAY, 0200

You: i made it back to my apartment. hamish drove me. train was down for maintenance.

You: marlowe-in-a-bag.jpg

You: marlowe is mad that i was gone

Mo Chroi: im glad youre alright.

Mo Chroi: gaz took this at our training today

Mo Chroi: group_pic2.jpg

You: yall look tough

You: whos the one in the middle

Mo Chroi: thats the captain and ghost has the dog

Mo Chroi: go to bed thief. its late

Mo Chroi: sunrise2.jpg

Mo Chroi: can i call you later? its important

You: ok

SUNDAY, NOON

You woke to the sound of rain. A loud peal of thunder pulled you from the darkness of your sleep. You would have stayed with Pidge, but you just couldn’t face his bed again. Hamish was happy to be your chauffeur, even after you learned that the train was out of service. You tried to buy him some gas, but he adamantly refused.

A headache stung behind your eyes, drilling into you, punishing you for the champagne. You hadn’t been drunk, but it had been sweet, and now you were paying the price for your sugar rush. You checked your phone.

Pidge: hHad such a great night!!. Thanku for everytingf i lov youuuu!!

Pidge: omg Anji just boked inthe sink

You didn’t reply. She was probably still asleep, along with the rest of the household. There was nothing from Johnny, yet. It wasn’t unusual. He was busy with terrorism, you figured. He would text you if he wanted to text you.

Digging in your freezer, you found some leftover soup and put it on to reheat. Your phone rang.

The selfie of you and Johnny at Glencoe flashed onto your screen. You let it ring again before you picked up.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice still hoarse from sleep.

“You still asleep, thief. I’m sorry to wake you,” he didn’t sound sorry.

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “Just making some soup. Rainy here. Cold.”

You: rainy_window.jpg

He groaned, and you could hear the creak of a mattress in the background,

“Mm. Spent the whole day on my belly doing target practice. I miss home.”

Mo Chroi: sniperpractice.jpg

“Yeah? Looks sandy and hot. Too bad there’s no beach,” you stirred the soup.

“I miss you, mo mèirleach.”

You stopped stirring the soup.

“I miss you, too.”

“Do you? Or are you cross about my texting Beks?”

“Both,” you went back to stirring the soup.

“Sent it to Hamish, too. You cross about tha’?”

You sent back silence.

“And if I told you Bekah’s an old friend from grammar school, and that’s all she’ll ever be, would you believe me, lass?”

Silence was all you had to give, apparently. Finally, you poured the soup into a big bowl and set it down on your coffee table, shoving your papers and books aside, and said,

“This soup looks amazing. Wanna see it?”

You: soup.jpg

“Thief. She’s just a friend.”

“I think there’s a song about this actually…”

“I think I’m fallin’ for you, and I need to know if you’re fallin’ for me, too.”

The bite of soup you were about to take hovered in your spoon, frozen in time. You could hear him breathing in your ear, waiting on your response. You could feel your heart shudder in your chest.

“Johnny. We can’t…”

“Don’t. Don’t start with tha’ mess, thief. Tell me you aren’t fallin’ for me, and I’ll stop. No more texts. I’ll leave it alone.”

“She’ll never forgive me, Johnny. I don’t have anybody else, don’t you get that? I’m not even from here. I’m spending Christmas with her because I don’t have anywhere else to go. You have a whole town who loves you, and she’s your sister. She’ll forgive you in a heartbeat.”

“You have me, don’t you, thief?”

“Do I?”

It was his turn to push silence out through time and space, sending it up to the cellular satellites and mirroring it back down to you. Firing frustrated breathing noises across cables and wires and whatever other stupid fucking technology was happening to you right now.

“Alright, lass.”

The phone beeped at you to inform you that the call had ended, but you kept it pinned on the shell of your ear, desperate for even a moment of that silence again. You regretted your honor the moment you’d held it up, and you were angry at yourself for keeping a promise you’d promised to keep.

The phone clattered to the coffee table. The soup went cold.

MONDAY MORNING

There was no sunrise text for you this time. Your phone didn’t have any notifications at all, in fact. You made it all the way to the bus before you caved.

You: bus.jpg

You waited. Then, you waited some more. Nothing happened. You tried not to cry, and you failed. Luckily, the bus was empty, and the driver didn’t care about you enough to ask what was wrong.

WEDNESDAY MORNING

You: stuck in the library today. office is being cleaned.

You: library.jpg

Again, you were met with the cold emptiness of staring at your own responses at the bottom of your messages. You tried not to feel the sting of it, but you failed at that, too.

THURSDAY MORNING

You: giving a lecture today. kinda nervous about this one.

You: lectureroom2.jpg

You: hope youre okay

FRIDAY MORNING

Your phone buzzed three times, waking you up with a jolt. It was still dark outside. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to see the messages.

Kyle: Hey this is Kyle, Soap’s mate. We’re heading back to the black site, so it’ll be a few weeks until you hear from him.

Kyle: airplane_loading.jpg

You: thanks for telling me

Kyle: Soap asked me to tell you he promises?? I think thats what he said.

You: tell him i promise

You: and can you tell him that i made a mistake? he was right. about everything.

You: and im sorry.

Kyle: Will do!

You stared out of the window until the deep purples of night gave way to a cool pink morning glow, and you watched as the sun stretched its gentle arms up and over the river.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Chapter 07

#guile and guilt #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish smut #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mctavish #call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii

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lacedinweb22 · 10 months

Text

drunk and crushing (Miguel O’Hara x reader) (part 1)

🕸️ Entangled series 🕸️ ch. 2 prev part

Warnings - alcohol, house party, sexual references

Summary: After your physics midterm, a group of classmates invite you and your friend, Miguel, to “a small party” they’d be throwing late at night. You both get drunk, and Miguel is especially protective and flirty with you; your feelings and crushes on each other are revealed as the night goes on.

FYI: Some words will be bunched together but that’s just me representing slurred drunken words. ALSO this will be in parts so get ready to be fucking edged. Sorry >:D I hope you enjoy <;3

I imagine this playing in the background of this part's party scenes so I HIGHLY recommend listening to this with headphones on while reading:

youtube

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

We walked out of class together, side by side. “Sooo, I mean, I’ll only go if you go,” he said, nudging my shoulder, smirking with that annoyingly perfect, pearly smile. “Hmmm, ‘a small party,’ she said, I don’t know, I don’t believe that… I hate large gatherings and… I don’t know half of the people that’ll be there,” I muttered, my eyes following the passing squirrels then glancing back up at Miguel.

What was the point of going when I knew I would just have to witness every girl and their mother trying to suck this man off in the bathroom??? He’d be busy all night, away from me, why bother? I prefer our mini study dat– sessions. Study sessions.

“Yeah… I know, but you’ll be with me, so you can just… you know, stick with me,” he suggested, shrugging and smiling down at me, his gaze stuck on me as we walked. I smiled, looking at our feet walking together. Stick with him. “Okay, fine, yes, let’s do it. I’ll feel better… that way.” “Okay, I’ll pick you up at 9 then?”

Pick me up? Jesus, why are you like this? Stop being so fucking nice to me; it makes it so much harder to get over you.

It’s fine. He’s just being a good best friend. Friend. We. Are. Just. Friends. He’s just being nice.

“Yes, sounds perfect… thank you, Mig, can’t wait,” I said, giving him a thumbs up as I walked away from him. “Hey, where are you going?” he called out. “I’m going to go meet up with a friend, I’ll see you later tonight, M” I yelled back. “Okay… Y/N,” he muttered, his eyebrows softly scrunched with confusion, lifting his hand up to say goodbye.

* * *

I wore my favorite vintage black strapless dress, and long knee high socks stuffed into my black mary janes. My waves trickled down my shoulders and collar bones. I feel so pretty. I wonder if Miguel will think the same.

He texted me that he’d be here in five. I sat on the short garden wall outside of my apartment complex, waiting for Miguel. He was always early. Always.

Sure enough, he pulled up, smiling and saluting me. “Present, Captain Y/N,” he said, as I walked towards the car door. Before I knew it, he was out of the car, about to open the door for me. As he approached the car door, his eyes scanned me up and down. “You look… really nice. Super beautiful.” I felt my face warm up. “Thank you, Mig,” I replied, shyly. I got in, he closed the door, then went to his side. He got in and began to drive.

“And you. I love that moto jacket on you… and you smell nice,” I replied, leaning towards him, my face near his chest, sniffing him. “Hey, I always smell good,” “Yeah, you do, you do, but you know, it’s a party, I get it. Love, drugs, weed, pussy. I get it,” I replied, hands up. He laughed and rolled his eyes, his deep laugh so rich, music to my ears. He smelled so good. His jacket must be fucking drenched in his smell. I wanted to touch him so badly, to feel his snug t-shirt, his warm muscles against my fingertips. I just knew–“Y/N,” he dragged out. “Yes, sorry, what was the question?” I responded quickly. “You smell good too, and you look pretty, I mean you always look pretty, I mean I just… is there someone from our class you’re looking forward to seeing?” God, you have no idea. “Ummmm, no, nope, no. There isn’t. Is there… someone you–” “No, no. Just the drugs and the weed,” he replied, nodding. I scoffed. Sure.

We pulled up to the house party. There were a million cars and what seemed like a million people inside and outside crowding around the front yard. Colorful lights glowed through the windows as people danced and trashed their red solo cups everywhere.

We found parking, then walked towards the chaos. As we approached, Miguel grabbed my hand. I looked down at it then back up at him. “Stick with me, okay?” he urged, squeezing my hand twice. I nodded. His large, muscular hand wrapped around mine. He was so warm; his calloused palms rubbed softly against mine as we walked in.

We pushed through the crowd to get to the kitchen. The speakers blasted music and sent vibrations across the floor and throughout my body. I clung onto Miguel as we pushed through the crowd. He towered over everyone, as the longing eyes of girls and the envious eyes of guys followed him.

We found Lizzie, our friend from physics, pouring shots for a few other classmates I recognized. “Miguel and Y/N,” she hummed out, teasingly. “You two are so cute! I’m so glad you could both make it!” she exclaimed, winking at me. “Us too,” Miguel replied, squeezing my hand and bumping my shoulder. “Do you guys want some of… this?” she said smirking, holding up a bottle of tequila. Miguel looked down at me for approval. I shrugged. “I’ll do one if you do one,” I told him, smiling. He grinned down at me then nodded to Lizzie. She grabbed a shot glass then a larger glass, 3x the size of mine. “He’s much bigger than you,” she said, shrugging, as she poured them out then slid one in front of each of us. “Fuck, what have we gotten ourselves into?” I asked, picking up the small glass and looking up at Miguel. He raised his glass up to mine and tapped it, “I guess we’ll have to find out,” he said, smirking.

Our eyes met as we both brought the shot glasses to our lips, never breaking eye contact. We downed the shots. Miguel took it extremely, scarily well, as I gasped and hovered over the counter processing the burn. I felt the warmth spread down into my chest. “Mmm that was so yummy,” I moaned. Miguel patted my back and laughed, “Let me get you a soda or something, wait Y/N, have you eaten?” I kept my head down and breathed out, “I saw Dr. Peppers back there, please, God, and yeah… umm I had mac & cheese earlier.” He patted my back then walked away.

“You need a drink?” I turned around to see a guy I knew from physics holding out a plastic cup to me. “Oh, no I’m good, thank you, Miguel should be bringing me something right about now,” I responded, peering behind him. Where is he? It was just righ– “I don’t see him,” he responded smugly, shrugging. I awkwardly laughed. He was cute, but he wasn’t… him. His eyes were glued to my lips. “Ha, ummm, yeah well, so… how do you feel about the midterm?” I asked, trying to ignore the tension.

Lizzie brushed by me, handing me a new shot glass, raising her eyebrows. I didn’t feel the first one in the slightest, so I obliged. I downed the shot, breathed out, caught my breath, and looked back at Jack.

“It was fine. Anyways, Y/N, I see you every lecture, and I’ve always wanted to, you know, talk to you, but you’ve– I mean shit, you got him following you around like a lost puppy–” “Hey, what? Where is this coming from? Miguel’s my friend, he’s my best friend, how is he like a lost puppy?” I argued, offended. “I mean everyone sees how he looks at you,” he replied, confused, like I was the one missing something. “Everyone? What do they see or… think? What do you mea–” “Do you not–? You’re not together? You haven’t…?” he asked, bewildered. “Nope, just friends,” I sighed, grabbing a can off of the counter and chugging. “But hey, thanks for the reminder,” I breathed out before chugging more of whatever this bitter shit was. I need to forget that Miguel doesn’t want me, that he could never think of me the way I think of him.

Jack smiled, and leaned on the counter closer to me, his elbow getting closer and closer to my chest. I looked down at his elbow then up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “You’re close,” I asserted. “You look beautiful tonight, truly. You know what? We should go take a quick hit outside,” he smirked, holding up a joint. “Nah, I’m good, It’s niceandwarm in here and Miguel shouldbecomingtosaveme any minutenow,” I shook my head no, realizing how heavy my head felt. Fuck, this beer can feels a little heavy. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered, getting closer to my face. “We should go get brunch sometime,” he added. Brunch? “That’svery kind but I’m good. DamnIsaid Iwasgood like fifty times. I’m waiting forMiguelllll, my best friend, my buddy, so don’t worry about me! Go check out someone else who’s lonely, I’m not lonely.” “You look lonely,” he reasoned. “Hey, you fucki–” I stopped as I noticed his eyes grow fearful as his gaze looked up above my head. “What are youlookingat, weirdo?” I asked, sharply, reaching my fingertips to my hair.

“Hey, Miguel,” Jack breathed out, grinning fearfully. I looked up to see Miguel behind me peering down at Jack. I watched as he kept his eyes on Jack while lowering a Dr. Pepper into my hand. “Here, Y/N,” “Thank you, Miguel,” I mimicked, looking up at him then back at Jack.

“I’m here. You can leave her alone now,” Miguel hissed at Jack. I like this side of him. Darkened eyes, heavy voice, angst. Gives me chills. “We were just talking about a fucking midterm,” Jack muttered as he walked away. “Yeah okay, pinche gringo,” he called out to him. I turned around and looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair slightly messier than when I saw him ten minutes ago. Where had he gone? Who was he with?

“Miguel,” I scolded, holding in my laugh. “What if he understandsSpanish, huh? They’re gonna kickyourass out,” I reasoned. “Nofighting here. This is a peacezone,” I said squeezing his forearm. He shrugged, “Ni modo.” I rolled my eyes then drank more from the can. “Hey, where’d you get that?” Miguel asked, grabbing it out of my hand, analyzing the label. He swiftly drank what was left of the beer then offered me the soda he brought. He lifted my other hand grasping the soda up to my lips, then bit the tab up, snapping the soda open inches away from my lips. “Drink this,” he muttered, through his teeth before spitting the soda tab onto the counter. “Haaaa I forgot about this!” I laughed out. “Yeah, yeah drink some,” he laughed, supporting my hand.

I drank a good amount then pressed it to his lips. His soft pink lips wrapped around the can rim. His eyes stuck to mine as he sipped some. My cheeks burned.

He then grabbed my hand and led me to the upstairs living room. There were far less people and the music wasn’t as loud. A friend stopped Miguel by the mini bar, so I stood beside him as they talked. I subconsciously remained holding his hand, which he held firmly on his lap as he talked to his friend about school. Lizzie and a few of her friends came by again, handing Miguel and I shots. Miguel hesitated as he looked down at his glass, then looked back at me and my now empty shot glass. He stared at me with extreme concern, then continued talking to the guy who was bombarding him with questions about the midterm.

He continued glancing at me, worriedly. “What are youlookingat?” I asked, pushing him with my body, “oops sorry I just meant to nudgeyou not push you, woah you’re so firm, I’ve never felt yourchestbefore geez you’re so strong, wait doyouthinkyou could lift me up? Try carrying me!” I blurted, laughing. A bit of pink creeped into his cheeks, as he smiled and put his hand on my fingers lingering on his chest. “Yeah, Y/N, you’ve had a little too much. No more, okay?” he urged, almost scolding me. “Damnnnn okay, MOMMMM!” I replied, rolling my eyes. He turned to his friend and excused himself, then stood up and turned to face me. He looked down at me, his eyes glaring, as I looked up at him, smiling fearfully. He wrapped his forearms around the back of my thighs, lifted me, and gently carried me over his shoulder, within one second. I was weightless to him. I laughed non stop, as he put me down slowly and rolled his eyes. “Wait couldyoulift me like, like wrappedaroundyou like you know…?” I asked, excited. Jesus, someone stop me.

He tilted his head, looking at me critically, then succumbed. He wrapped his hands on the back of my thighs then effortlessly lifted me up so we were chest to chest, heart to heart. His hands remained on the back of my thighs, my dress was now riding up, probably showing my underwear to the world. I was too drunk to care, and too focused on Miguel to care.

My arms wrapped around his neck, as our faces were inches apart. We looked into each other’s eyes then down at each other’s lips. My heart is beating dangerously fast. Can he feel my heart racing? It felt like 10 minutes had passed us by, when in reality it had been mere seconds. He put me down slowly, as we held eye contact. I wasn’t laughing anymore.

That sobered me up. I cleared my throat and tugged my dress down. His gaze was still glued onto me. His gaze felt different. Has he always looked at me like that? “Let’s go over there,” I suggested, as I pointed at a group of people playing beer pong on the balcony. I hated crowds, but I needed more sobering up; the alcohol was hitting me like a bus. He held my hand and followed me, as I led him through the crowd this time.

As we approached the balcony and made our way through the crowd, the music grew intensely loud. We now had to shout to hear each other. “‘SMALL PARTY’ MY ASS!” I shouted to Miguel. “I KNOW,” he laughed, “IT’S SO FUCKING LOUD. IT’S TOO MUCH” he shouted, over the music. “DO YOU WANNA LEAVE?” “NO, LET’S JUST GO TAKE A RESTROOM BREAK,” he yelled back, grabbing my hand and leading me to one of the bathrooms.

to be continued…

next part (flashback) drunk and crushing pt.2

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bydxsign · 1 year

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littlemonstert-blog · 1 year

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Shizune’s underrated

She’s pretty underrated in terms of a medic and fighter

(Doing mini analysis for now it’s easier)

Shizune mostly Tsunade’s assistant and apprentice,she’s no slouch either in the field. Desevers way more credit if you pay more attention to her.

In charge of:

Captain of the Logistical Support and Medical Division of the Allied Shinobi Forces

(I would love to see her younger days she’s around kakashi’s age. Makes me wonder if she ever met her uncle Dan)

Inteligence and medical skills

Shizune is observant and smart. She was able to figure out the secret behind the black receivers embedded in Pain's First Animal Path during an autopsy with her team after just a short amount of time. ch420

Takes the lead in healing Neji in the Sasuke retrevial arc ch 235

during the War, she could find out the DNA-similarities between the White Zetsu Army and the First Hokage, something that she already presumed before.ch545

Shizune battle tactics mainly uses poison and senbon, poison that can debilitate and paralyze someone with a scratch. ch485/488

Even kabuto knew if one inhale he’s done form her posion is no joke. ch166

senbon for short or long distance ch 165/166

Shizune did pretty decent against kabuto( Jiraya had no doubt in her skill). Both really aren’t the best when in comes taijutsu (as of this arc) because they fight like medics in mindset of the quickest way to end the fight.

#shizune #naruto #underrated

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sanjisluvbot · 8 months

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YANDERE STRAWHATS X BLACK FEM READER CH 17

Masterlist

[ I’ll add ch 1-16 here tmr I’m just really tired <3 ]

The silences became unbearable so you decided it was best you spoke up. Your sentences collided, you both stumbling over what the other said. You shared a laugh and decided to let Law go first, anxiously waiting to hear about what was on his mind that made him go complete radio silent at the dinner table.

" Y/N-ya, This conversation is going to make you upset but it's a neccesary one." He started off.

you nodded and waiting for him to continue. He sighed and turned away for a second, anxiety dwelling in the pit of his stomach.

" Before we had really gotten close and I was traveling with you and the strawhats Robin invited me into her study because she had books that would be really interesting to me."

The shock was written all over your face, he was telling you about reading one piece. You gulped down the lump in your throat, Sanji was telling you the truth.

" I'm pretty sure you have an idea of what I am about to say but, I just want you to know I wasn't keeping this from you because I am trying to harm you, and I am not in kahoots with the strawhat crew. ”

You but your lip wondering if the anger was showing itself on your face. You wanted to tell, scream, or even jump him. That wasn’t the right answer though, you knew that, thinking back to all the times you’ve simply done something logical here you always ended up on the wrong side of the stick or sword.

You hummed and looked away from him, “ I choose not to be angry at you. I mean, speaking logically I had done the same thing. Reading the manga and then coming here. I’m just not as free to go back whenever I please as you are.”

Your heart swelled. You felt mature and dignified in this moment, the anger seemed into the back of your mind most likely going to rush forward when you’re alone again but that’s alright. As long as you don’t show them everything will be fine.

“ I mean still… Y/n-ya I betrayed your trust by not telling you this sooner. If I was in your shoes I would probably be screaming from the top of my lungs.”

You laughed. Of course you wanted to do that, to everyone that you’ve encountered in this mysterious world you wanted to scream from the top of your lungs hoping that maybe someone from your home can hear or that maybe god would rescue you.

Unfortunately that’s not reality.

Law spoke about how intrigued he was by your universe. The new technology, the advancements in medicine he’s never heard of. In such a short period of time he spent there he was able to see things people wouldn’t even dream of in this life time.

Bepo and the rest of the crew peeked out the doors and windows amazed to see their never catch him with his pants off captain be so lax. It was like an alien replaced him or he was possessed by a free spirit.

Although you haven’t spent much time with the heart pirates, they adored you. Like basically everyone else they were enamored with the girl from another world, you were this alien creature who spoke so differently, lived differently, just a ball out of left field.

They were more subtle but they watched you as much as anyone else did. They liked the way you did little things and they liked the way you made their captain easier to deal with.

As they watched you two go from awkwardness back to a regular conversation where Law’s smile was prominent and his posture slouched, they wondered what would happen when you went back home.

Of course the captain would miss you, he would probably be even more overbearing just because your presence is gone but they all knew too well what the right thing to do was.

After hearing your story and what you dealt with from the Strawhat pirates they couldn’t help themselves in wanting to protect you. You were too fragile for this world, even though you weren’t even a different species your world is so fragile and life goes so quickly for you. You deserved to enjoy it— even if it meant they would never see you again.

You would always be one of their favorite memories.

The weight on Law’s shoulders was removed. And your comfortable conversation about the stars and what not from your universe could lull him to sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed around a person— even his own crew.

Your eyes shined under the light of the moon and the hue made a light shade of blue casting over your brown skin. He moved closer, wanting to get a slightly better look at you. After all you’d be leaving in the middle of Wano. That thought brought a sharp pain through Law’s chest and a vein popped out on his temple.

He didn’t want this to be one of the lady times he seen you. Law wouldn’t say it out loud— he couldn’t. Knowing you, you’d probably become spooked by his demeanor. But he was sure that he wanted you in his life for the long run, get to know you like the back of his hand and maybe… just maybe…

His teeth gritted- his own thought annoying him while he was trying to focus on you explaining different telescopes that would let you look at the surrounding planets.

He would have to work over time to at-least attempt in forgetting you. He chuckled out loud at that catching your attention.

“ What’s funny loser.”

Don’t

“ Nothing… I was just thinking of something— continue.”

You smiled and teased him once more making him shy away from showing you his reddening cheeks.

The night is still young and you had so much to talk about, he wanted to be all ears but you just made everything so difficult now.

Luffy was aggravated, you spend less and less time with him and everyone else now. He missed when you would spend all day playing games and just simply having your presence in his vicinity.

Robin told him what happened today and he wanted desperately to be happy but knowing that you and Law were ir already have talked it out made him want to destroy something in front of him.

Nami eyed him, her and Zoro were always first to read Luffy’s emotions and she was tad bit upset at how easily Robin opened her mouth. Telling him any of this isn’t in their best interest right now.

Nami wanted you to stay with them of course but she figured out a different way to ensure that. To ensure that both you and everyone else can finally be happy. But, with Robin or any other crew member coming to the captain every other day to report one thing after another it would be more difficult.

Usually Robin and Ussop would be in her corner but she’s all but alone as of now.

Her thoughts started giving her a head ache and Luffy’s anger was making her anxious. She was going to just put her thoughts to rest for the night. She’s have all the time in the world to figure this out in the morning.

Walking into the other room she bumped into Sanji, who had desserts in his hand and gave her his bright smile. When she declined Sanji’s facade dropped, concern ect he’d across his face.

“ Nami si everything alright?”

“ Yeah Luffy’s just agitated and Robin is adding fuel to his fire. I’m just gonna go to sleep we’ve got things to do tomorrow and I need to devise a plan.”

He told her to wait just a moment in the hall while he dropped off his treats, coming out in less than a minute he smiled at her and offered to make her melatonina tea. She obliged knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and he was obviously worried for her and not up to any of his theatrics.

In the kitchen she sat twirling a spoon in her cup letting every thought and worry fly out of her mouth and Sanji listened intently.

“ I just wish you guys would not tell Luffy things about Y/N and Law so often. We need this alliance— especially right now. In order to win and have Luffy become an emperor we need the heart pirates. I get that we all-”

“ Everything’s going to work itself out.”

She tilted her head and he chuckled at how cute she was mentally begging himself to not make a fool out of himself.

“ We’re all just stressed, too much going on, too much focus on Y/n, and too much pressure from other crews and the people of Wano. I get you’re frustrated— I think we all are even the moss ball.”

“ Well yeah but-”

“ Robin wants to get a reaction out of all of us. Luffy is just an easy target. Luffy would get agitated if Y/n were to even look in Trafalgar’s direction.”

“ I’m just trying to come to an understand of why she wants this reaction out of him right now if all times.”

“ Because just like you she’s devising plans and having a captain who will pop his fuse at just one little thing right now must be vital for it to work.”

“ I guess? ”

She drank the rest of her tea sb headed to her room praying nothing disastrous would come tomorrow.

🏷️ : @chaichaiiskai @mizzhellsingsstuff @herwritingartcowboy @axulaphie @toshirolovebot @futmblr @rhicambo @marim0cha @sasukeswife3 @mitskikinnie100 @alaurannara @angstylittleb1tch

A/N: short chapter Ik but de next Sunday! <3 love you lmk what you thought !!!

#x black fem reader #one piece #one piece x black!reader #yandere strawhats #one piece x reader #x black reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece sanji #zoro x black reader #trafalgar law x black reader #law x black reader #luffy x black reader #nami x reader #sanji x black reader

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astr0exe · 2 months

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K9 [COD MEN (POLY??) X M!READER] CH1

Ch.1 , Ch.2 , Ch.3

CAS’ MASTERLIST !!

reader is transmac and autistic cause i said so :)

AO3 VERSION : K9

SUMMARY: The boys meet someone new. He seems cool but his dog seems to enjoy ripping people apart.// The boys meet the K9 trainer

(first time transferring my AO3 work to tumblr so)

(my writing is also quite shit but hey ho)

( i project so so bad with this character)

(pls give me feed back)

CHAPTER 1

Soap's POV :

The Captain dragged us into a meeting and we have no idea why. I was busy watching Princess And The Frog after working out for ages, I just wanted to relax after so many back-to-back missions.

"Thank you all for showing up I do appreciate it, I know we are all probably tired, however I thought this was important to discuss before you saw them around the base." Huh saw who around base? Is someone new joining? I glanced around the room and caught Gaz's confused eyes.

"See who sir?" I asked cautiously, "___ they are the K9 trainer and his callsign is K9 because of this. He has a fully-grown perfectly trained cane corso who is with ___ at all times. If any of you are scared of big dogs then I am sorry because Bucky is huge. There will be a meeting introducing you all do not worry but I thought I should give you a heads up. Dismissed." Answered Price.

Whilst walking next to Ghost in the hallway I couldn't help thinking about what Price said. I don't even know what a cane corso looks like. Oh well, when I get to my room I'll find out cause Google is my friend. "Hey, Lt. Do you know what a cane corso looks like?" I questioned, "I think I have an idea, pretty sure they grow up to 70 cm (27.5 inches) ish and weigh up to 50 kgs (110 pounds) They are massive dogs." Ghost murmured.

I could feel my eyes bulging out of my sockets at the thought of a dog that big.As I finally got to my room, I instantly looked up what a cane corso looked like and I think I shit myself. I have to meet one of those tomorrow.

Time skip : meeting K9 and Bucky

We all sat in the common room for our introductions. Me and Gaz were playing uno whilst Ghost was just watching us like a babysitter would with two children whilst we were waiting for Price and ___. Slowly we heard footsteps, they sounded heavy like platform boots, you could hear heavy breathing coming from Bucky and mumbling muffled talking from K9 and Price. The footsteps gradually increased in volume until Price walked in along with an awkward-looking guy. He wore large combat boots which had to add at least 3 inches to his height, and a large leather jacket with lots of patches on ranging from band patches to quotes. Oh and a trans flag. Nice. His belt was studded like he bought it in the 2000s with added chains which actually looked heavy, he had black eyeliner on and a face mask. If he wasn't like 5"7 with his boots on I'd say he was terrifying.

After I finally stopped staring at this Greek god of an emo boy and got my shit together I noticed his dog, Bucky, who was eyeing everyone wearily as if at any point we would attack him or ___. With how intimidating they both look I think they suit each other.

"Um hi I'm ___ or K9 and I'll be training dogs you take on missions and sometimes taking the dogs on the missions myself. Nice to meet you all. As you all know, this is Bucky, he won't hurt you." He giggled towards the end and oh my god it's like I heard heaven gates open and when I gazed around the room I knew everyone felt the same with all the wide eyes and stuttering introductions.

"Well these are my boys, Lt. Ghost Riley , Sergeant Soap Mactavish and Sergeant Gaz Garrick. Boys this is Sergeant K9 he will be working with you as he described he will also be living on base and training with you lads so I expect them to come back to me feeling welcomed into the Taskforce is that clear?" Demanded Price. "Yes Sir." We all responded in unison.

As I observe K9 and Bucky I cant help but smile at how at ease he seems with his dog. I think he is gonna fit in perfectly.

#x male reader #x male y/n #cod x male reader #x transmasc reader #x trans male reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cas speaks

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ellephlox · 9 months

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Embers and Ashes

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's not easy to keep a low profile when you've got the power to heal, but you've managed to carve out a home for yourself in Hell's Kitchen. By day you're an assistant at a literary agency, and by night you mend broken bones and bloody cuts. It's a double life that constantly forces you to question your morality, because the wounds you seem to magically heal don't vanish forever — they've got to eventually go somewhere.

But after you make the mistake of healing the wrong people, you become Daredevil’s next target, and suddenly your double life becomes far more tangled than you could ever have predicted.

Set post-S3. Slow burn Matt x Fem!Reader. Chapter one will be posted here on tumblr, but ensuing chapters will be uploaded to AO3. You can read Ch. 1 on AO3 here, if you'd prefer.

Warnings: Description of injuries and profanity.

Most normal people in the city dreamed of being an Avenger.

You overheard them at work constantly, ever since it became increasingly commonplace for people to crop up with super-strength or freakishly accurate aim with a bow and arrow:

“I actually ran into Spider-Man this morning — the real Spider-Man! I begged him to sign my arm, obviously, because there was no paper around, and he actually did it! Look, right here. I'm going to get it tattooed after work.”

“Well, last night I had a dream that I was recruited by the Avengers. It was absolutely amazing, Debbie — Tony Stark wanted me to be his girlfriend! God, it was fantastic. He even let me try on his Iron Man suit.”

“Oh, I’d give anything to be enhanced. I’d want to be able to fly. Or teleport. Any power, really, if it could get me a one-way ticket to fighting with them.”

“But did you hear my friend got threatened by Daredevil the other night? That red horned suit is gone, though. He’s in that black suit from the days when we called him the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. I’d love to run into that guy — he’s so strange, isn’t he? Handsome, in a mysterious way.”

At this point in these types of conversations you always tried to tune them out. Their rosy idea of enhanced ignored the things that you saw whenever footage of the Avengers was shown on the evening news. After the battle in New York, they raved about Captain America’s strength, that magic hammer of Thor’s, and the way Dr. Bruce Banner metamorphosed from a man into a monstrous hero, as though it were the best thing in the world to have super-powered abilities.

But when you had watched that footage on the news, after the battle was over, all you saw was the blood. The bodies. The expressions on the Avengers’ faces, of the anguish and turmoil they had witnessed. Being enhanced was a curse, not a gift, and you came to resent the word itself — not for the political controversies it provoked, but for its connotation. In the mouths of anyone else, enhanced was a good thing.

But you knew.

As you held the temples of the man lying in front of you, his skin burnt severely from his fingers to his wrists, you knew.

He writhed, his hands flopping like gasping fish. They were scorched as though in a paisley pattern, leathery and swollen. Second-degree, if not third-degree burns, you thought, as the man jerked away from the light emanating from your own hands, but you kept your grip steady. Slowly the skin began to return to its normal color — splotches fading like they were diluted, heaves of scars sinking back and reshaping as though they had never been there, the energy of his wounds transferring into your hands and through your bloodstream.

You knew, better than anyone, that every gift had a price.

TWENTY-ONE HOURS LATER

It was snowing, yet your hands were blistering.

The plows hadn’t come through yet, and there wasn’t much foot traffic on this side of Hell’s Kitchen, so the sidewalks were thick with snow. Despite your best efforts to hop in the few existing footprints, snow kept falling down into your boots. Your toes were numb, and your ears felt like they were about to get frostbite; you weren’t dressed for the weather. There hadn’t been time to grab a hat and thicker socks when you left your apartment, because you were more preoccupied with the searing burns that were popping like budding flowers on the palms of your hands. They weren't yet to the severity of the burns you had healed on Lynch's hands the previous night, but it was only a matter of time before they began to worsen.

Only one more block.

It was past midnight, and all you wanted was to be in bed, curled up with your pillows and quilted blanket, but just before falling asleep, you’d felt the skin tear open on your hand as though someone were holding a blowtorch to it. It was unnerving. You'd estimated another eight hours, until morning, before the energy you had taken from Lynch's wounds would make itself known.

Clearly I was wrong. You seethed with irritation at yourself and at the fact that Lynch had burned his hands in the first place as more snow collected in your boots. A warm pair of socks would be really, really nice right now.

But situations like this came with the job, even if most people didn't realize it. Whenever people discovered you were able to heal — and they never truly knew it was you, because you were careful to keep your identity obscure — they assumed it was simple. As though you could just lay your hands on someone’s bleeding wound and it magically stitched itself back up. Poof, problem solved! Sort of like all those Avengers your coworkers persistently chatted about. Yeah, if only healing were as easy as doing a few fancy finger movements to open up a portal into another dimension. Doctor Strange doesn't know how good he has it.

Because fancy finger movements definitely wasn't how it worked for you. It wasn’t even close.

You inhaled sharply as another burn made itself known, this time higher on your hand. A quick handful of snow against the welt soothed it slightly, but not much, and you picked up your pace down the street. Your destination was an unassuming brick building, wedged between a hardware store and auto repair shop. LYNCH FUNERAL HOME AND CREMATORIUM, read the sign outside, underneath a layer of graffiti. It was one of your closest friends who owned the funeral home, and the previous day he'd sent you an emergency call for help, though you still hadn't heard the story of how he'd burned his hands in the first place. Not that it mattered much. You didn't ask questions very often; healing was your only responsibility.

There was no one else on the street. There wasn't even much light, because most of the street lamps that weren’t burned out had been buried in a pale coating of frost. Your thoughts turned abruptly to the reports of the so-called vigilante Daredevil, who had reportedly been back on the streets lately. With what you had done in the past, and even with what you were doing now… well, you hoped you never crossed paths with him. Quiet streets like this always made you wonder if today was the day you’d run into him, but it had never happened. Sometimes you wondered if the media simply made him up as a fear tactic to keep crime off the streets of Hell’s Kitchen.

You hurried inside the funeral home, searching for the only person who you knew would be up and about. Please, be here, please, please…

He was. “Grey,” the man at the desk said, surprise crossing his face when you burst into the crematorium. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Grey . Just like the word itself, it was ash on your tongue. It wasn’t your real name. Years ago it had been bestowed on you as a code name, a way to keep your identity impersonal from the people you worked with. But it stuck, and now you could count the number of people who knew your real name on one hand.

“Emergency visit, Thato,” you said, showing him your hands. “I’m sorry. I thought I could manage it until tomorrow, at the very least, but—” You cringed as another burn blistered forth, erupting on the pad of your thumb. “Ow. Shit.”

Thato got to his feet, wincing in sympathy. “Never apologize for this. It’s not your fault.”

You shook your head. “I should be getting better. Improving… this . And I’m not.” It was true. For years, you had been at this same level. If you healed someone — which wasn’t really healing , if you were being technical; it was more like taking their injury and transferring it elsewhere — you could only hold onto it for a short amount of time.

Option One was taking that energy from the injury and transplanting it onto someone else — typically, a corpse. You had a strict policy for yourself to never inflict a wound from someone else that you’d healed onto someone who didn’t receive the wound in the first place.

Option Two was just holding onto that energy until it began to manifest itself on you instead. And that was never pleasant.

Case in point: the damn burns on my hands right now.

You glanced at the door to the morgue. “Please tell me you’ve got bodies in for cremation?”

“As a matter of fact, one arrived tonight,” Thato said, and he put his hand gently on your back to steer you inside. “Let’s go.”

The morgue was cold. Goosebumps pricked up your arms. Thato worked quickly, and within a minute he was pulling out a storage drawer. A woman, her body pale and lifeless, slid out in front of you.

Even when the bodies were dead, this was never easy. You averted your eyes, opting instead to look at the ceiling, and placed your freezing hands on the sides of the dead woman’s head, against her temples. Gradually, after a minute, your hands began glowing — not the yellow glow of the man the newspapers called the Iron Fist, nor the red glow of that Avenger you’d seen on television, Wanda Maximoff. Instead, it was a pale slate color, as though smoke itself had become a source of light. It was this color that earned you your nickname.

“Grey,” your brother had told you, lifting your chin up roughly to stare you down.

He wasn’t really your brother, but he might as well have been. You’d known him as long as you could remember. Kane was the one who raised you, who had been with you since... for a long time. “Got it? Here with us, that’s what you’ll answer to.”

“But my name is—”

“No. When you’re with us, you don’t use your real name,” Kane said. Of course, just like your name wasn’t really Grey, his name wasn’t truly Kane. “You use Grey instead, okay? Grey Arztin, if anyone ever asks for a last name.” He handed you forged identification papers.

“Why Arztin?” you asked, reading the name, and fumbling over the pronunciation of the word.

“It means doctor, in German. Come with me. I have people for you to heal.”

“But I’m not very good at it.”

“Then you need to practice that ability. It’s going to be your greatest gift someday, Grey.”

The energy pulsed in your own temples as it transferred to the corpse, and slowly you began to feel it drain out of you. There was no comparable feeling to this moment, when the build-up of pain was finally relieved from your mental storage space — your cache, you liked to call it. And, suddenly, burns just like the ones on your own hands bloomed across the white hands of the dead woman — raw, fiery welts, discolored in the center and streaking from her wrist bones to her fingertips. They were identical to the burns that had stretched across Lynch's hands the day before, down to the charred bit of skin just below the thumb knuckle. When the energy was gone, you dropped your hands, and the smoky glow faded.

The few burns that had already marked your own skin were still there, of course, because your healing abilities could never fix what had been done to your own body — yet another shortcoming of your power — but they wouldn’t get any worse. It was over.

The corpse was rolled back into her drawer. The family would never know that her hands now bore severe burns that hadn’t been there at her time of death. She’d be cremated tomorrow, Thato assured you. It would be as though you had never even touched her. Guilt curled in your stomach at her desecrated hands. Maybe she had been a pianist. Those hands might have been held by someone else, once upon a time — a mother, a lover, a child. She could have used those hands to climb mountains or type out a novel on a laptop or serve plates of food at a restaurant.

Now, because of you, they were mottled and burnt.

“She’s dead,” Thato reminded you quietly, once you were outside of the morgue and back at the funeral home desk. “She’ll be burned anyway.”

“I know.” You played with the edge of the desk. “I just always feel bad. It feels like I’m… spitting on her memory, or something.”

“It’s a price you have to pay,” he agreed. “But it’s in exchange for the good you do, each time you use your skill. You even bore some of the price yourself.” He nodded at the burns scattered across your own hands. “I don’t like to see you feeling bad, Grey. Anything I can do?”

You smiled. “It's okay. You already helped me. Thanks, Thato. Really.”

I don’t want to keep doing this, you wanted to add. I’ve had enough of all this. The healing, the transferring of the injuries and scars and bruises, the role I’ve played in Hell’s Kitchen. I’m done.

You wanted to tell him, so badly that it made your chest feel tight. Thato had been your friend for as long as you could remember. But if you told him, then your brother would find out, and if your brother found out…

Well, Kane wouldn’t be very pleased with you. He'd see it as a failure on your part, or worse, a betrayal. But it didn’t matter anyway, because you couldn’t leave the organization. Not after everything Kane had done for you, and especially not while you were the one thing that stood between him and death every night that he risked his life.

You tightened your jacket around your shoulders before heading back out into the night, towards your apartment. You took your time; your earlier exhaustion was gone, and with your hands bandaged now, you were able to appreciate the falling snow as it amassed silently, insulating the streets from the sounds of the city beyond.

But you might not have had such a leisurely walk back if you’d happened to tilt your head upwards and look at the roofs — if you had been able to hear the footsteps above as someone followed you in the shadows, if you had known the man they called the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen stalked you, having listened to every word of the conversation in the crematorium.

#daredevil #matt murdock #marvel #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #reader insert #reader #mcu #x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #slow burn

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333creolelady · 3 months

Text

Lady Of The Blue Bakunawa Ch. 5

Black Afab! OC x Roman Reigns (Pirate Au)

Warnings: Moody Roman, Feisty Jane, Arguing , Cursing, cunnilingus, overstimulation.

Songs this chapter: Young love, Yumeji’s theme, Your hands are cold

Alternative playlist songs: Polly, Green eyes, Lights on.

Story cover by @joannasteez

Spotify playlist link here <-

Alternative playlist link <-

Next -> chapter 6

<- Back to Masterlist

All reblogs will recieve a snippet of next weeks chapter.

3 weeks later….

Jane

“ Never take your eye off your opponent”, Adhar warns.

“ Okay”, said Jane as she steadied herself.

“ Just a moment of unfocus and you could end up with a sword sheathed in your gut. It’s how Roman was able to take out Captain Night’s eye”, says Adhar.

“ Ugh don’t remind me”, Jane shivers.

“ Also, don’t pick up a sword unless you're willing to do the unthinkable. If someone is coming at you with a weapon they’ve usually weighed the consequences of killing you. It’s up to you to defend yourself. Night and Roman’s battle was ongoing for almost fifteen years. I don’t think they truly wanted to kill each other until you were involved”, Adhar takes her sword ending the lesson for the day.

Jane appeared puzzled. “Why didn’t they kill each other before?”

“ I’m not sure. To be honest I think it was a game to the both of them. Roman kept him alive out of spite and so did Night. But then you came and…well.”

Jane remained in deep thought. It had been a few weeks since their kiss and the tension had grown between the two of them. Roman hadn’t made any advancements onto her again and she didn’t know how to ask. The hand holding in private still happened but something had fizzled out. She suspected it was because Roman had seen her interactions with Adhar.

Everytime she brought up Adhar he’d grow short and flat. Adhar wasn’t really a flirt, just really cheeky. However, she was sure that Adhar was just a friend. His cheekiness was often misconstrued for flirting and since she was a woman it was assumed that he was attracted to her. In the past weeks of their training she’d come to realize that Adhar was already missing a love. A girl named Kita from back home. The two of them had gotten to know each other better and he’d spoken briefly on his life before piracy. He had a lover and he was exiled from his community. He never got to see Kita again. Adhar’s demeanor was an attempt to chase away his sadness. Ever since then, Jane understood him better.

So when Adhar stood behind her to adjust her grip on the handle of her sword she didn’t panic. Roman caught the two of them a few times during their sessions. This time was no different as he strolled past them on the wind deck heading for his quarters.

Adhar grabs the sword from Jane,“ Why don’t we stop for the day? I’m sure Caden needs your help by now and Roman is shooting me daggers”, Adhar chuckled.

“ Yes, I’m on for lunch preparation. I’ll see you later. Thanks for the lesson”, Jane straightened her apron and headed down to the kitchen.

Caden, John and Allen all worked tirelessly prepping lunch. Lunch was usually left overs from the night's previous dinner. Although no serious cooking was involved, food had to be reheated and distributed to many men. She put on her chef's hat and scrubbed her hands before firing up the stove. Root stew from last night needed boiling and it was now a gelatinous mess waiting to liquify.

“ We don’t have enough for everybody. Caden, can you go in the pantry and pull out the bread for the sandwiches. It’ll have to be half and half to last them until dinner.”

“ Didn’t you hear Jane—-there’s a celebration tonight. There is no dinner except for what we find inland”, said Caden. He makes quick work of laying pieces of bread out to be buttered.

Jane

“ A celebration ?”

“ Ay’, it’s celebration for the ship. Cap’n gained something better when we got the Night star. We still have to dock for some repairs. It’ll only be for the night then back at it in the morning. Not only that but it’s the March solstice. It’s the start of the new season where night is no more. To not celebrate would be bad luck for the land and sea”, Says Caden.

“ I’m not much of a party person”, Jane shrugged.

“ I figured as much. I’ll bring you back something nice. Don’t tell anyone but Roman gave me these”, Caden held his pocket out to reveal 20 gold shillings.

“ Woah…. rich man. Remember me when you buy your big house”, Jane joked.

“ Never M’lady”, Caden smiled as he assembled the sandwiches.

“ Caden where are your parents ?”, Jane asked curiously.

“ Wow nice pivot Jane”, Caden snorted.

Jane winced. “ Oh sorry. I didn’t mean to be pushy. It’s just…you’re a young boy. It breaks my heart to see you do so much on your own. It’s why I asked Roman to let me help out.”

“ Well my mom died from the blue death when I was about 12. My father passed away from smallpox a few months later. Funnily enough they created a vaccine a year after he passed. What luck”, Caden shrugged.

“ I’m sorry”, Jane frowned.

“ S’alright. It’s life. I didn’t suffer for long. Things got better for me.”

“ How did you meet Roman ?”

“ Well when I lost my parents I became an orphan so I was sent away to nuns. I kept getting into trouble and running away. The nuns were harsh….they believed in rough punishments. It was hard for me to get used to it. My dad was a gentle and kind man. My mother was patient. I’d never been spanked by an adult before let alone slapped. It didn’t just stop there though. It got worse. I just wanted to work and be an adult. Looking back I realize that was a bit foolish but.. I met Roman hiding in a port. He gave me coins and bought me food. He kept asking me questions but I wouldn’t budge. He was visiting town for a few days and every night I would be in the same hiding spot. I guess he figured that If someone cared they would have found me by then. Anyhow, he took me in and I thought he was gonna teach me how to be a pirate. That I would learn the sword —get big muscles and be scary like him. Imagine my surprise after the first 2 days on the ship he places a book in my lap. A stinkin’ book”, Caden scoffs. Jane laughs at that.

“ That sounds like him”, Jane grinned.

“ Oh yeah. He said he wouldn’t teach me how to sword until I finished the book. A dictionary of all things. I couldn’t read very well. He taught me the alphabet again which took about a week. Then I had to learn the sound of the alphabet which took another week. Then we started reading the dictionary and guess how long it took me. Just guess ?” Caden crossed his arms in a challenge.

“ Uh…a week?”, Jane spoke with hopefulness.

“ Three Bloody MONTHS”, Caden flailed his arms.

“ Roman thought you deserved some semblance of an education. That’s a good thing. It’s more than most people get …trust me”, Jane smiled admirably despite wanting to laugh.

“ Yes and it was awful. Eventually I was able to start my position as a cabin boy 6 months after joining the ship. It took time learning how to address Roman.”

“ I’m sure you’re better for it”, said Jane. She was shocked to know the lengths Roman went for Caleb. Someone in his position wouldn’t really care about providing basic needs for a child he didn’t know. It’s not like Caleb was his child… but yet he did.

“ He took me to the doctor. Apparently I had scurvy and was rattleboned. I mean I was every bit of a flea ridden mutt at that point but Roman took care of it all. Then he’d send me to work and I could only refer to him as Captain. I don’t think he likes his affection to be witnessed by other people very much. I know Roman cares about me like family but he’d never say it and he wouldn’t want it to be discussed with others. The funny thing is we all know that Roman is good to the crew and has made accommodations for many of us when asked but we never really say anything about it to each other. It’s just…known ”, Caleb pondered as he added meat to the bread.

“ Roman can be a very sweet and gentleman. I’ve been introduced to that side of him and I’m grateful for it. I’m not sure I like the other side quite yet”, she pondered as she remembered his knife slicing through the skull of his mortal enemy Night.

“ Ay’ but he’s a pirate after all. He can’t be nice all the time otherwise nobody would be scared of him. I mean his name alone is a nightmare to some people. It’s what keeps us safe. Plus other pirates would probably think him a joke for taking in some ol’ kid.”

“ He’s a person. As kind and cruel and ever changing as all of us. No matter how hard his peers try to hide their humanity they are still slaves to their flesh. People are people..the way I see it”, Jane nods.

“ Well when you put it like that I’m glad I got one of the nicer pirates. Not the kind that use their cabin boys as jesters and pets”, Caden frowned.

“ Me too”, Jane shivered thinking about her encounter with Nights crew. She’d thank the stars for running into civilized pirates.

“ Sometimes…it feels like he’s my father and other times he’s my big brother. Other times…he’s an ass.”

“ Haven’t met the ass quite yet”, Jane laughed.

“ And you won’t. That’s reserved for nuisances only. Take 10 minutes. I need to speak with her”, Roman sighed in annoyance startling them both.

Caden rolled his eyes and dropped one of the half made sandwiches back on the counter. John and Allen left, following behind the young boy.

“ Hi”, Jane looked up at his tall frame. He was dressed down today in baggy slacks, socks and a baggy cotton shirt half unbuttoned. His hair was pulled up in a bun that seemed slept in. She noticed his beard looked a bit cleaner. She lifted her hand to feel it and playfully tugged it.

“ Did you cut it ?”

“ Not much. Just a small trim.”

“ I like your beard.”

“ Oh I couldn’t tell by how much you yank it every chance you get”, he said with an slightly annoyed yet humorous tone.

“ Sorry”, she smirked playfully before lowering her hand. Despite his obvious moodiness she could see a ghost of a smile on his delicious lips. She contemplated asking for a kiss.

“ As you know there’s a celebration tonight which means that we probably won’t be able to have dinner together. There’s someone I have to meet who has information about where to find the key to the treasure. There’s an entirely different map for the key. I likely won’t be back until late”, says Roman.

“ Oh…Alright. I guess I’ll just read then.”

“ If you’re still awake past midnight, come to my door. We can have a drink.”

“ You excused everybody out of the room just to tell me that ? I’m disappointed”, she teased.

“ Well there was another thing as well but…”, Roman broke eye contact hinting at a sense of guilt. Jane honed in on it.

“ Spit it out”, she taunted.

“ Why….did you ask adhar to teach you sword?”

“ I’m not sure…I’m very comfortable with adhar. He doesn’t make me anxious.”

“ So I make you anxious?”

“ At times yes. For good reasons..”, she whispered. Romans eyes faltered. He paused.

“ Why?”, said Jane.

“ I don’t think that he should be the one to teach you. In fact…I don’t think that you should be using a sword at all in my humble opinion.”

“ Nice to meet you ass.”

“ Now wait I—- “

“ I have to finish making lunch if you don’t mind”, Jane blurted before Roman could get his words out.

“Jane”, Roman blurted at her back that was now turned to him. She didn’t answer. He puffed out an audible sigh and walked away. Why did he have to piss her off while looking his best?

She wasn’t sure if Roman’s comment came from a manly or jealous place. He allowed Alice a high position on the ship despite her gender, so she surmised he was jealous. Still, there was nothing a man could do or say that surprised her. She’d learnt lessons to last her a lifetime regarding the actions of males. It did however slightly disappoint her. If Roman really watched the interactions between Adhar and herself then he would see just how well they got along. He would see that he makes her laugh and really helps with her comfort around some of the other men. They laughed like siblings and gossiped like sisters. There was not an inkling of true romantic or sexual attraction between the two of them. As she served lunch and cleaned behind herself she got angrier and angrier. Roman had officially disappointed her and being sidetracked by it made her even more upset.

The day rolled on like it always does. She mopped the deck with Caden, finished laundry, cleaned bedding and washed her own clothes. Jane had a peculiar sense of melancholy that lasted until nightfall. Most of the men ended up leaving for the night. With the ship left with only a few stragglers, she had a quiet dinner on the wind deck. Caden and Adhar left together in pursuit to find some expensive fighting gear and she wished them luck.

She noticed Roman had finally stepped out of his cabin to head into the city. He briefly nodded to her in acknowledgment and walked down the ramp leading from the ship to the sand. She didn’t bother returning the gesture; instead she watched his hulking frame disappear into a crowd of drunk and happy people socializing on the shoreline. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

The urge for a concerningly long bath with fancy oils and soaps came over her. She tried a new scented lotion and attempted a new hairstyle. She picked out a fancy night gown and shaped up her eyebrows with tweezers. Pampering herself was becoming a new routine for her and she drew it out as long as she could. There was something cathartic about it but eventually she found herself bored again. She wished Caden was here to make her laugh. With no other chores to fulfill she headed down to the dimly lit kitchen and cut herself two slices of dried fig cake. She took it to her room with her alongside half a pitcher of lemonade.

She placed a napkin in her lap to catch any crumbs. Just as she was getting ready to dig in with her fork, a knock sounded from her door.

“ One second”, she called out, removing the napkin and resting the fork on the plate.

She scurried to the door and opened it to find Earl, looking his usually scruffy and round self. He held a board in his hand and looked around nervously.

“ M-M’lady…I’m sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you’d like to partake in a game of chess with me? Allen usually plays with me but he’s at the pub”, Earl said in a tingue of a British and German accent. His face reddened when he took in her night gown.

“ Oh …you’re not bothering me at all. It’s just that I don’t really know how to play…”, Jane shrugged.

“ I can teach you. It’s fairly simple. I’ve been playing it for a long time”, Earl pearched up.

“ Okay well why don’t we play in the mess hall. I’ll be down in a moment”, Jane said smiled.

“ Very well”, Earl flashed her a bright smile and waddled down to the third floor. She brought her two slices of cake and lemonade to the table as he set up the chess pieces. The two ate cake as Earl taught her the logistics. She couldn’t think of a better way to end the march solstice.

Roman

Roman treads through the streets of a famous port, boots crackling against loose pebbles and dirt. It was dreary. This had to be his least favorite place to dock because the weather was shit. Port Plado, home of the drunks, fucked weather and scam artists. He made his way into the pub after a five minute walk. Upon entering he was hit with a waft of beer, sex, sweat and smoke. The cheering from the men in the room quieted when he entered. The women however were bold as ever. A woman with thick curly brown hair, pale skin and ruby lips swayed over to him with one breast hanging out from her bustier.

“ Fancy a Frenchy my big pirate?”, purred the harlot taking her hand and rubbing it up and down his arm. Roman turned away gently.

“ I’m spoken for ”, he throws blandly over his shoulder heading for an outdoor leading to a dimly lit hallway. Moans, screams and yelling reverberated off the walls. He finally reached the end of the hallway and opened the door. At the wooden table sat a withered old man with tan skin, white long dreadlocks, milky eyes and a fragile short body. His fingernails were black and he wore gold rings on each finder. A thump of his Tobacco spit hitting the bottom of a can echoed across the empty room.

“ Ah….Roman. Surprised to see you here. And here I thought you were smart enough to heed my warning. Let me guess…you want the map?”, he said.

“ Crane…been awhile”, Roman stalked up to the table with the old man and sat. He removed his hat and poured himself a glass of ale.

“ You’re fuckin’ right it’s been awhile. A decade”, the old man snorted.

He shrugged. “ Give or take”, said Roman.

The old man crossed his arms and leaned back into his wooden chair. “ Well you already know what I’m going to say.”

Roman remained unflinching. “ Name your price”.

“ What you’re doing is foolish boy…”

Roman sighed leaning back in his seat as well. “ Price..”

“ You first.”

“ 10,00 shillings.”

Cranes brow rose in defense. “ I’d imagine that a navigators knowledge is a little bit more valuable than that. Come on.”

Roman could feel irritation running a finger up his spine. He clears his throat and repositions himself in an attempt to shake the annoyance away.

“ After all….without me you can kiss ever finding that treasure goodbye.”

Romans anger peaks. With how shitty the last two weeks had been, he underestimated just how moody he really was. He swiftly pulls out his pocket knife and stabs it between the gap of cranes fingers, lodging the knife into the wooden table. Crane jumps back in shock.

“ If you could go ahead and name your price so I can get off this shit hole of an island I would appreciate it. I’m not in a very good mood”, Roman seethes quietly, briefly pulling his knife back into its sheath.

Crane holds his hands up in surrender, his smirk returning to his face. The pair were never fond of each other. Many pirates had come to know Crane because he was a navigator. Navigators were valuable assets and were often rented for voyages due to their knowledge of the stars. The problem is that none of the men lived to find that key. The navigator's knowledge was photographic and each time he lost a map he could make a new one. Rumor has it, his old crew made an attempt to find the key and he was the only one who survived the trip.

“ 30 thousand shillings”, Crane spat.

Roman furiously dug into his pocket and held up a brown satchel.

“ There is something you’re not telling me. You will not receive this until you give all the additional information about this quest. Something that will actually help us…clues.”

“ It’s a suicide mission anyhow. What would I possibly know? I hold no treasure of my own. What more can I say to help?”

“ Crane…”, Roman warned.

“ The creature that holds this key is as old as time. The place that holds the creature will reveal itself to you but if your heart is not pure you will be destroyed. That means that there is no turning back. You may reach your destination but there is no guarantee that you will have the option to leave. So that should tell you that NO man was deemed worthy enough to claim the key as his.”

“ And you know how ?”

“ Stories of course…the same stories that made you believe that you could find that treasure.”

“ Creature…elaborate.”

“ There is not much that I know. All I know is that there will be a test. You may have a better chance at receiving the key with the likes of a woman or a child.”

“ Because ?”

“ It has a fascination for them or so I hear. Now give me the bloody money”, crane sighed. Roman dropped the bag on the table and flicked it over to crane. The old man eagerly opened it up and counted the coins. It was all there. Crane grabbed an old folded up piece of paper from his pocket and slid it to Roman the same way he slid the satchel. Roman opened it to reveal 10 corddinates.

“ Pleasure doing business with ya’”, Crane tipped his hat and went back to chewing his Tobacco.. Roman stood up and placed his hat back on before making his way to the ship.

Jane

Adhar and Caden had returned happier than ever. Caden bought himself a new coat made from the finest materials, alongside a necklace with a heart shaped silver locket. She gushed about it and thanked him profusely. Adhar had bought himself a new sword and it was absolutely magnificent. She held the sword and watched its shine bounce off the moonlight.

“ It’s so light to be so big ?”, Jane gasped.

“ Means it’s well made”, said Adhar.

More of Roman’s crew came singing on the ship, clearly drunk. They brought a group of musicians on the ship and started dancing with some of the woman they’d surely spend the night with. Adhar grabbed the hand of a brunette girl and danced with her like the dozens of other pirates who had taken a lady for the night. Jane clapped on beat with the drum beats watching her friend dance. Caden offered her to dance and with hesitancy she accepted, spinning around crazily with her friend. She giggled like a maniac, feeling the wind in her hair and underneath her dress.

“Not a party person?”, Caden laughed as he spun with Jane.

“ I’m not”, jane giggled. She let out a soft squeal as Caden passed her to Adhar to dance. Her forehead fell onto Adhar’s shoulder as she tried to catch her breath from laughing so hard. Then suddenly she saw him standing there, brooding, tall and wide. He looked pissed and it stopped her in her tracks. The music seemed to screech at a halt when Roman’s presence was noticed.

“ You lot take that back down to the beach. Some of us like to sleep”, Roman snapped before stalking into his cabin. The shift in the mood changed as the gathering party walked back down the ramp, clutching their playthings to their sides. The mood was ruined.

“ I’ll see you in the morning Jane”, Caden waved as he walked back with everyone else.

Jane was seeing red. Roman was acting like an absolute prick and she surprised even herself as she stomped over to his door and flung it open. She walked inside on a mission. A single candle light illuminated the room and it was more cluttered than usual but not dirty. Still unusual for him.

“ And just what is the matter with you ?!”, Jane snapped.

Roman stood from his desk holding his books and taking them over to the book shelf.

“ I beg your pardon?”, he said with his back turned.

“ Don’t play coy. What’s wrong NOW ?”, Jane snorted.

“ You”, he says quietly.

“ Me ? “

“ Yes —you”, he snapped. His body language turned defensive as he crossed his arms. She slowly closed the space between them.

“ What have I done ?”

“ Jane look, I’m not in the mood for this right now. Enjoy yourself. I have things to do”, Roman dismissed her.

“ I’m not going anywhere. Be a man and tell me what I could have possibly done to make you upset ?”, Jane spat. Roman hated that tone and suddenly he was losing his grip on his temper for the second time today.

“ You call me an ass before I can even so much as utter a reasoning behind my statement. I’m called an ass and then dismissed? You ask Adhar for lessons but not me? Then you’re dancing with him and you’re so content in his arms like there’s no place you’d rather be?”

Jane’s brows rise in confusion.“ You’re jealous? You of all people ??!”

“ Is the sky fucking blue ?”, Roman hissed.

“ I’m sorry that I do not pet your ego the way you like. I’m sorry I’m not living up to the mousey silent role you’re used to seeing me play ”, Jane scoffs.

“ Don’t do that…”, Roman raised his tone half an octave. Still calm but more alert. He points his finger at her. “ Do not do that. Don't pretend that this is my gender. This has nothing to do with that. Don’t cop out with that. Not after everything”, Roman scolds.

“ Well what else could it be ? I’m actually enjoying myself now and suddenly you have a problem with it ?! I thought you’d be happy for me. I thought that me learning to sword would ease your worry after what happened to the Black jewel. But...THIS ?”, said Jane.

“ I have no name or category to identify what we share. I see the way he looks at you.”

“ Adhar is not like that. His heart belongs to another.”

“ I know men. I’m a man, I know a man in lust when I see one. You’re a beautiful woman Jane. Any red blooded male would be a fool not to— “

“ This IS about your gender because you sound like a stupid man !” Jane raged. Roman seemed taken aback for a moment but didn’t dare speak. Even Jane herself looked shocked. Back in London she would NEVER raise her voice to a man—it’s certain to earn a slap. But something so visceral bubbled inside her now.

“ First it’s Adhar. Then it’s your problem with me swording. You’re starting to sound like all the rest of them. So sure that you know what a girl needs—that you know what’s right. That you know the natural order.”

“ You’re are aiming your frustration at the wrong person Jane.”

“ No, I think I’m a damn good shot. Why can’t you see that I’m tired of being the person things happen to. Every moment of my life—victim. VICTIM. I don’t want to be weak. Why can you let me do this for myself ? Why are you so threatened ? You let Alice—

“ Alice wasn’t like you.”

She gets louder. “ What does that even mean?!”

“ Forget it.”

She fully yelling now.“ What does that mean ?!! Alice was stronger ?!!”

“ Jane”, Roman warns in a low tone. Something in her stomach is telling her to leave now before this combusts. Her pride pushes onward.

“ She was taller, more capable ? Not weak like me? So I’m doomed to be a victim!?”

“ Jane” he warns even lower. He rubs his beard with annoyance.

“ I can’t want more for myself ?!”

He erupts..

“ I DIDN'T CARE FOR ALICE LIKE I CARE FOR YOU!”, he roars.

Silence falls.

Roman begins to pace. “ You are driving me to madness. Every moment I think of you…the bruises I saw on you. Your eyes….the way you shook. The way you held yourself like you were preparing for—- he catches himself and closes his eyes for a moment. She watches his tense body language assessing if she should run. However…something told her that she was okay.

“ It’s not that I think you aren’t capable, Jane. It’s that you shouldn’t have to fight. You shouldn’t have to touch a sword. You shouldn’t have to prepare for the worst. You’ve paid your dues —this I know to be true. For your every presence to grace this ship should be nothing short of a privilege. It is a miracle—you’re a miracle. I wanted to take care of you. Even if you forbid me from ever kissing you again. Even if you decide you can’t stand my very presence. Even if you’ve fallen for another..I need to take care of you.”

Jane stands there stunned for a moment. Seeing Roman lose control of the calm demeanor he always presented her with… was shocking. Now as if she’s forced his hand, he finally tells her the depth of what he feels. His irritation was short lived and the truth he blurted seemed to dampen his anger as quickly as it came.

“ And maybe that very desire is chauvinistic. And yes I’m jealous. How can I not be ? We kissed and I’ve been replaying it in my head ever since. You pulled away and I don’t blame you—I promised you I wouldn’t. You needed time and I’ve given you that—I’ll give you more. But can’t I have this ? Am I not allowed to seethe at the way your eyes meet another ? As I fear that I’ve lost your favor in the weeks we’ve been distant? After all, it is you who said that I’m a person. Not just a man but I'm a person Jane. Am I not a slave to my own flesh just like everybody else?”, he says in a quiet begging tone.

Never has a man expressed his desire for her in this way. But not just desire, no. There was adoration….admiration too. He has disarmed her. Now she stared at him with tears rimming her eyes as she felt this unusual need to be closer to him. To hide her face in his chest like an embarrassed child. To cry.

Her voice cracked. “ You can protect me by liberating me, Roman. Arming me to defend myself.”

He sighed in disappointment. “ If you wanted to leave I would have let you.”

“ I chose this.”

“ Why….?”

“ I’ve had more rights on this ship than I’ve had in my entire life. And when you look at me……”, Jane’s eyes trail down to her shoes now and she can’t help but to closer her eyes to speak the words, as if she was hiding from them herself.

“ When you look at me it feels like you're looking AT me. Like you see me on the inside too. Like I’m a whole person. I’m not lesser. You don’t straighten your stance in power when I look away. You don’t smirk when I’m trembling. I’m not some background object or a side character. And you know what that’s like…don't you? You know what it’s like to be observed like an animal…to be treated like furniture. Moved around…herded from place to place like livestock. To be judged for your color, your features, your build, your words, your very essence. You know what it’s like for people to feed on your fear…to survive and sustain themselves on it. You’re the first man who’s ever looked at me—really looked at me like I mattered. That’s why I chose this ship, that's why I chose you Roman. And that’s why I know that after all you’ve done for me…you’ll let me have this too. You’ll be happy for me.”

He melts. Not in his stance but his eyes. They soften and deepen. His brows raise in defeat. His shoulders relax. His gaze darts around the room for reprieve. She has penetrated his defenses. On his cheeks, the faintest flush. He rubbed his fingers along his temples. His self control has weakened. He was back to pacing around the room again.

“Go to bed”, he says firmly.

This catches her off guard. She just spilled his heart out and suddenly had no regard for it. “NO”, she scoffed.

“Jane..”

“Roman..”

“ Jane. GO. TO. BED”, he warns.

“Don’t tell me what to do. You’re not my father.”

“ You’re damn right I’m not your goddamn father. And bless him for dealing with such infuriating —

She slaps him. He hit a soft spot mentioning her father and she slapped him across the face. It happened quicker than she had time to understand and then suddenly his mouth was on hers. Hers was on his. Suddenly, as she tasted the ale on his tongue, she understood what the anger brewing outside the two of them was. Passion. He pauses hesitantly, pulling his face from hers. She claws at his hair forcing his mouth back to hers. He sucks on her tongue pressing her up against the wall.

They stop for a moment, taking a second to stare at one another. The room is filled with panting and unspoken lust. She inhales the air he exhales. Forehead to forehead she can see the uncertainty creeping up on his face.

“ I have been trying hard to be a good man. Do you know the things I think about doing to you?”

“ That’s okay”, she answers desperately twisting against his touch. Desperately wanting friction.

“ I’m not a good man Jane. I kill people. I steal and I lie. Since the moment you’ve been on this ship I’ve tried my best to hide the depravity that I feel when I’m near you. You have possessed me…Jane.”

“ I—I don’t care what you are”, she groans into his mouth trying to catch it with her own. He pulls back further.

“ You will be a criminal by association if you choose me.”

“ I’m already a criminal by British standards. There is nothing left in that life for me”, she hissed in frustration pressing her breast against his chest. She feels up and down his arms and then her fingers tug at his shirt. That nearly unraveled him but he once again restrained himself. She was operating on an entirely animalistic desire.

“ I will—I’ll stop this. Tell me to stop”, he begged as his mouth found her neck.

“No”, she moaned.

“ Say it…say you want me to stop”, he groaned as he bit into her skin.

“ touch me”, she gasped.

And then…everything in the room seemed to swirl and blend into itself. She wasn’t shaking in fear. She wasn’t tearing herself away; she was unequivocally open to him. Their mouths smashed and crashed against one another like how water met rock. Her hands dig into his skin, wishing she could borrow them into his flesh until she merged her bones with his own.

Something was primal about this. These feelings seemed to have boiled to the top and blew the lid on both of their self control. He dragged her like a rag doll over to the front of his desk. He swiped it clean with a massive clatter of objects to the floor before resting her on the hard surface.The kiss continued and it got sloppier. She sucked on his bottom lip unabashedly. Her nails dug into the side of his arm. Her legs parted making room for his large frame. She pulled away motioning for his shirt. He pulls it off in a frenzy exposing his ripped physique. He was covered in tattoos all across his chest and down the left side of his body. Her eyes widened in desire, clawing for his skin and rubbing her fingers against his chiseled stomach. He was firm and soft. She arched into him as he kissed down her neck pulling her nightgown down to expose one of her breasts. He pulls it into his mouth and sucks. She moans at the warmth of his tongue flicking back and forth over the skin. His teeth grazed her nipple and she twitched from the sensation leaning into it once more. He switched to the other nipple while massaging her other breast.

“ These tits..”, he mumbled against a mouthful of breast before kissing back up to her awaiting mouth. Her fingers climbed down to the waistband of his pants before trailing back up to his shoulders. She figured she should mention that she wasn’t sure if she was ready to go all the way. She could feel him unbuckling his pants.

Just before she blurted out the words, he bent to his knees and pushed his hands under her bum, pulling her hips down towards him. Her panties went first and quickly. He bunched up her skirt revealing her naked sex and she instinctively tried to close them. He used to hands to keep them pryed open.

“ …so pretty”, he whispered quietly before licking his thumb and pressing it firmly against her clit. She took a sharp inhale of air and stiffened against the desk. Without warning a hot mouth found her clit and the room melted together in a haze of unidentifiable pleasure. What was this feeling ? How has no woman bothered to mention it to her ?

He pulled away rubbing her clit in circles and watching her squirm. She had no time to adjust as he dragged his tongue in a single swipe through her folds to catch every drop of arousal that stuck to her. They both groaned, him from the taste and her from the intrusion.

A shout spurted from her lips as he sucked her clit again “ Fuck!”, she winced as she found her hand in his hair. Her face was downturned into a permanent pout as he lapped on the mess of her inner thighs. He cleaned her arousal thoroughly before heading straight to her target again.

“ Roman”, she croaked quietly. This feeling was not one that came often to her. She experienced it a handful times before at her own expense. But now it was a sensory overload. His beard, his lips, his tongue, his hands, the cold table —it was different. And not only that, he was enthusiastic about. He groaned like he received pleasure and that confused her. What man could recieve pleasure from inflicting pleasure on his lady? She believed sex to be transactional and serving to one person only. But not anymore as he lapped her clit with the tip of his tongue.

With each pass her fingers dug tighter into his hair and she desperately tried to control the sounds that slipped past her tucked lips. Would somebody hear? Are people still here? Does she sound horrible? What if he doesn’t like the sound ?

But another wave of intense pleasure hit her as he began to swirl his tongue in circles which pulled her out of her thoughts. She pulled his hair unintentionally and he pressed hard against her. His sucking and licking became firmer and the moans she kept concealed slipped out louder. She covered her mouth.

“ Take your hand from your mouth”, He mumbled against her skin. She looked down at him crazily.

“ T-They’ll hear”, She stuttered quietly.

“ This is my ship. If someone’s there then they’ll get the fucking point ”, He rebuttaled followed by a long lap against her whole sex.

She apprehensively took her hand from her mouth and breathed through another overwhelming wave of pleasure. She felt it the most in her core and then it spread all over her body.

He sat back and opened her legs to see her, still keeping his arms hooked around her hips. She looked down at him but quickly reverted her gaze back to the ceiling. He extends his tongue and fucks her opening, filling her with it completely. He gets messy, taking his lips and swiping them up and down her folds, coating himself in her. A gentle slap to her thigh causes her to jump as she looks down at him quizically.

“ W-what”, she gasps.

“ Look at me”, he says before going right back to his pattern. Lap, flick, swirl, suck.

“ I- I can’t. I can’t or I’ll cum”, she whined.

“ That’s the point love,” he chuckled into her which shot vibrations against her sensitive flesh.

“ Come on..”, he coaxed gently rubbing her back and forth with his thumb. She slowly raised her head to look at him.

A wet beard, A long wet pink tongue, and deep brown eyes stared back at her. He flicked at her clit slowly staring her down with no shame and as she suspected, she fell apart within seconds. She shouted. Mortifyingly enough the release was way bigger than she prepared herself for as she felt her body shake and cramp up viciously. He held her down through it—-prolonging it with quick flickers by the tip of his tongue. As for his hair, her fingers were pulling it like horse reins. To get him to stop she had to push his head away. He gave her some reprieve.

There she laid, absolutely wrecked and throbbing. A few moments of silences passed between them as he lapped up her release before finally pulling away. Holy..fuck.

“ We are going to have to break this prissy behavior of yours. Your wound up tight. I want to see what happens when you lose control.” He says in an astute tone.

“ I’m pretty sure I did just a second ago”, she pants.

“ Oh nowhere close dove. Come…sit on my face.”

Her eyes popped out of her head. “ But I already came…just a second ago.”

“ Don’t tell me you’ve never stacked your orgasms on top of each other. Oh you have so much to learn”, he picked her up from the table and placed her on his bed.

“ Get on your hands and knees”, he constructed gently.

Jane obliged and felt him slide into a lying position underneath her. There were no pleasantries, he just buried her face in her cunt. From this angle she could fully feel his breath, his nose, his beard, his warmth— times ten. It instantly drew a long moan from her.

She was already so sensitive from the first climax but Roman’s tongue seemed to find new areas to torture and wring pleasure from. She never thought she’d enjoy riding a tongue until now. He used his hands to rock her up and down, impaling her on his tongue like a cock. He made sure to angle the tip of his nose right at her clit and pressed firmly earning a loud moan from her.

“ Roman wait —-fuck!”, she moaned. He just groaned in appreciation, sucking her clit with fivour.

“ Roman are you sure I’m not suffocating….”, she didn’t even finish the sentence as another high pitched moan rang through her. He didn’t bother to answer and instead hummed against her skin.

Something had changed in his demeanor. He was more ravenous this round, nearly swiping the entirety of her cunt against his face. It was getting to be too much as she got louder and louder, leaning forward to bury her face into one of his pillows. He reached up and snatched it from under her just to hear every whine that came from her mouth.

“I can’t—I’m gonna—- fuck wait !”, she panicked. And sure enough there it was, her second climax. It surprised her that her body gave it up so easily. Perhaps it really needed it. And now it was barreling towards her with vengeance. When it finally slammed into her, she winced and fell face flat on the bed screaming her lungs out.

Her ears were ringing as she felt him pull away. She remained with her face planted. Roman gently nudged her onto her, back assessing the damage. She was properly ruined, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat and a rouge tear making its way down her temple.

He was glorious of course. Shirtless with a soaked beard…panting like he took a jog or something. He sat next to her taking his shirt and wiping his wet beard off and then his neck.

“ Was I wanton enough for you ?”

“ Terribly so”, He chuckled leaning down to kiss her lips. A wave of tiredness came over her. She sat up ready to go back to her cabin. Roman pulled the covers over her in defiance.

“ Stay awhile”, he insists.

“ Are you sure ?”, she croaks tiredly.

“ Positive. I have work to do. Rest”, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. She would protest but a yawn took its place instead. Sleep found her fast.

When she woke up in the morning to the smell of toast she sat up with a proper yawn. Roman sat across the room polishing something shiny.

“ Ah you're awake. Sleep well? I did”, he flashed a white smile at her. She wanted to pull the covers back over her head remembering last night.

“ I….”

“ For you”, he walked over to her and placed a brand new golden sword and a musket in front of her.

“ Adhar can teach you sword. I’ll teach you to shoot.”

#spotify #roman reigns #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #the tribal chief #wwe #wwe smackdown #pirate au #roman reigns au #the head of the table

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luvly-writer · 5 months

Text

"XOXO''

Ch. 9 Underneath the mask, there's a heart

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Author's note: I had so much motivation to write these two chapters! I mean, these scenes did not get out of my brain and allow me to think of anything else this weekend. I have no idea when the next chapter will come out seeing as this week I have to deal with a few finals but I am so happy I got through with these two. Originally I was going to do ONE long ass chapter but decided to cut it into two. As always your feedback is welcomed! Enjoy <3

Warnings: Parental neglect

Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @grandstrangerphanthom @1lellykins

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just leave me a comment <3

Masterlist:

-•-

They went out of the hall and up a few stairs. Tim did not know where he was going, he just wanted to get the two of them away from her family as fast as possible. Finally, they got into a hall with a huge balcony. They entered and Tim closed the door. They stayed in a comfortable silence.

"When you said your family was unbearable, I was expecting snobby and classist, not a targeted interview and a blatant pedophile," he said finally turning to her. Yn leaned on the stone rails of the balcony breathing fresh air.

"I did tell you to expect anything" she answered softly. Tim walked closer to her. He said goosebumps rising on her arms and took off his suit jacket. He placed it on her and smiled when she snuggled in it.

"What was all of that?" he questioned looking at her, "You have been acting slightly out of it ever since I arrived. You don't quip back with my comments and you make yourself seem small around your family. What is going on, Yn? Where's the force to be reckoned with that I am constantly with?" he asked showing pure concern. Yn looked at him and he swore he would see tears welling up in her eyes.

"I..." she began and he took her hand in his.

"You can tell me anything, angel. We are friends, right?" he said and she nodded. She took a deep breathe and began.

"I'm... I'm not even sure where should I begin" she laughed, "Ever since we were little, my father has placed the unbelievable task of always being extraordinary. We needed to get the best grades, be top of our grades, get into the best colleges, surround ourselves with the best people, if we went into any extracurriculars, we had to stand out. He would say that we are representing the Vanderbilt name everywhere we go. It is better to be envied than to be related. Admiration has to be everything. Why be yourself when you can be a Vanderbilt triumph. As we grew older, his expectations rose.Aurora, the eldest, is the one who has taken it with the most grace out of the three. Everywhere she went, it was as if a line of gold followed her. Top of her grade, class president, multiple medals as a horse rider, abundant class and grace, motherly, warm, blinding smile, and neverending kindness. There has never been a moment when she has not made our father anything less than proud. Between the two of us, she has my vote as CEO. She is my mother's favorite. Mine too if we are honest. Then there's Charlisse. If Aurora is gold, she is shining silver. She is cunning, ambitious, quick-witted, ruthless, rough, strong, top of her grade as well, captain of her fencing team, who also owns a good amount of medals, and ruthless. Both queens of the school in their moment, beautiful and intelligent. Graduated from university magna cum laude and went straight into the family business. Where Aurora has always been more like mom, hence why she's her favorite; Charlisse is more like dad; meaning that she is the closest to becoming his favorite. And then..there's me" she said.

"Then there's you" Tim affirmed softly

"The black sheep of the family" corrected and Tim looked at her baffled.

"Impossible," he said and she shook her head.

"Not so impossible. I have tried everything to be like them, and no matter what, it has never been enough for the old man. In some ways, I am like them. Perfect grades, top of my year, captain of the tennis team, multiple medals... but to my father, and by association Charlisse as well, I lack character. Aurora is a natural-born leader and Charlisse will do whatever it takes to get to the top. Both of them have an ongoing unspoken competition that seems to never die. Hence our current problem. You see, according to the papers and the succession line, Aurora is supposed to be CEO, and Charlisse is supposed to be COO; but one day, a fight erupted, and Charlise was tired of feeling constantly second to Aurora so she demanded that father make her a runner up for CEO as well, and because she is his favorite, father approved. From then on, both were being trained to become CEOs. My father loves good competition and claims that it is always healthy for the best outcome. Only the best of the best wins. When that happened, in a sense, my father expected me to join the competition as well.."

"But you didn't" Tim finished and she nodded.

"I didn't and that angered my father. He said that I lacked character because of how coddled I was by Aurora and Mom and that I truly couldn't do anything worth noticing...that I was too soft for a family like ours. By then, I had been in the middle of middle school...and I sought out to prove him wrong." she continued and Tim nodded.

"So you became the ice queen" he deduced and she nodded.

"yea...it wasn't that hard, I mean coming from a highly rich and highly respected family where your older sisters were known as the social queens placed you in a certain advantage. So I became the Ice Queen. Instead of friendly and warm, serious and cold. People did anything to be in my favor and it began to feel nice"

"Being feared?"

"Being respected. Soon word got to my dad. He finally heard that his daughter had that spark he had been looking for. Everybody bowed down to her, everyone wanted to be around her, and people would do crazy things just to get her favor. It was the first time my father expressed he was proud of me. He had the three queens he needed. Gold, silver, and Ice. It's easy to put that front. If someone disrespected you, they were taken care of; if anyone tried to step out of line, blackmail; if someone wanted to defy the hierarchy, public humiliation; all of the control was in my hands...and I didn't like it but it was the only way to make my father proud. You see, excelling in grades and extracurriculars was the minimum, what matters is how you were. Finally, when I graduated high school, I thought it would be over because in my head a CEO would already be chosen, but their competition got worse. It involved the public eye. Who had the most beautiful wedding, who did the most charity, who spoke the most eloquently, it was a mess and my father wanted me to partake in it. When I expressed that I did not want to form part of this, he got angry for how could I turn my back on my family. And so as punishment, he signed that when he saw fit, I would become the next CMO. In order to do so, I have to be married. I proposed that I would do it, as long as he let me choose my husband and he agreed. That was when I was 18. Four years later, he decides that I have taken too long and strikes up a deal with Mr. Morris, a sick man with a good amount of money that my father can manipulate easily. That brings us to our current situation" she finishes.

Tim stayed quiet for a moment.

"I know how it feels" he finally speaks up. She looks at him and motions for him to proceed.

"There is no better person to sort of understand what you have gone through. I mean, Bruce doesn't actively send us to compete against each other. If he had his way, none of us would have to. You see, we compare ourselves to each other a lot, not just in our everyday lives, but in masks as well. Dick is the first son and first robin. He basically created the thing. Not only that, he has been the only one trusted to don the Batman cowl-"

"I knew it!" she said and Tim looked at her surprised.

"Oh sorry, it's just I knew it. I don't remember how long ago but I do remember being in my room's balcony and seeing Batman and he did NOT look like he did normally. He was leaner and shorter and I remember saying 'Batman looks different today' but I couldn't pin point exactly what it was. Then I told Satine and Clara and they made ME look insane for noticing the difference." she laughed lightly and Tim snorted a laugh. "Anyways, sorry for interrupting, continue," she said and scootched a little closer to him. They were still standing next to one another, but she had slowly gotten closer as he spoke. Looking for warmth or interested, Tim did not know.

"Let's go inside, angel, you will freeze to death here," he said pulling her inside and locking the balcony door. They sat beside each other on one of the sofas of the room and Tim continued what he was saying,

"As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me" Yn stuck her tongue out to him and he rolled his eyes at her, "He has basically become the vigilante blueprint for all of us. The Golden Boy Grayson. Good moral, great leader, strong character in a good way. Even with his strong and angsty temperament, which is not fun to deal with by the way, he still manages to be the best of us. Then there's Jason, the fallen and revived Robin, the only one to go the extra mile to do what's right. The one that justifies the means with its end. Once he finally started therapy and began healing, you could see the clear heart of gold that resides in the first place. Then you have the girls, each in their own right is amazing. Barbara's brain and compassion, Cassie's strive to be the best of herself and to bring the best out of us, Stephanie's charm, humor, and pure skill. Then there's Duke, who is I believe the true best of all of us and the most normal. He has a heart that is incomparable and he is never afraid to show it. Finally, there is Damian, who is all skill, mind, and power. Even as young as he is, that boy is one force of nature and he is the only one that is Bruce's biologica child. Not only was he the reason Robin no longer belongs to me but he could be the reason Wayne Enterprises might end for me as well.They are all great each to their own right and own up to it and they all came from some place shitty and grew from it...what's not to envy" Tim finishes.

Yn smiles at him and moves closer to him, laying her head on his shoulders.

"I think there is a lot to envy and admire in Tim Drake as well." she tells him softly

"Yeah?" he smiles looking at her.

"Yeah, I mean, you are the world's greatest detective. Second to only Batman, and some people might say even better. Plus, you also have a heart of gold, Tim. You are quite literally a genius. You, like your siblings, stay up every night to make this mess of a city a better place. You put your life in complete danger to help others. You are just as great to your own right as your siblings. Didn't you tell me you have been quite literally the only person to discover who Batman is and in what age?" she asks

"Age nine" he tells her and her jaw drops

"Holy....Tim, what the fuck? You are amazing!" she says and he just laughs. It felt good to receive some praise.

"Hey, this is the first time I have heard you curse! I am becoming a good influence on you" he points out and she hits his arm lightly

"More like a bad influence" she responds making him laugh harder, "My point is proven even more, Tim. You are brilliant. I'm pretty sure that Batman and Bruce and everyone in your family and team wouldn't be the same without you," she states taking his hand in hers and giving it a light squeeze. He takes his hand off hers and with that same arm, pulls her in for a hug.

"So how come you can see my worth, yet you can't see yours?" he asks her and she shrugs. They move a little and get into a more comfortable position, still cuddling.

"I guess it is difficult to try to have a mind of your own when your family is trying to control every aspect of your life to make it fit their idea of perfect" she says.

"What if that's why your father takes it out on you so much?" he asks and she looks at him curiously,

"Hate what you can't control so much that it becomes obedient against its will," he explains and she whispers lowly, "Might be"

They stay there cuddling for a while until Tim remembers something

"One more question," he says

"You seem to have an endless supply of them but go ahead" she replies

"Hey, I'm a detective, it's part of the job description"

"Ok, detective, what is your big query?"

"What's the big deal of the painting?" he asks and he can feel her tense up in his arms. She stays quiet for some time and Tim begins to panic. "You do not have to answer if you don't want to, angel. I won't push-"

"It's mine," she answers softly, "...when I was a child, my grandmother lived in Florence, Italy. I would stay with her every summer per her request and I loved it," she took a shuddering deep breath and continued, "I was so happy there you know. She would take me to museums, cafes, and road trips. I started to get a fixation on art and she got the best teachers to give me class every summer. From charcoals, to watercolors, to sketching, to symmetry, to abstract, to realism, I learned everything that there was possible to learn...and I loved it! It was my passion and it just so happens I had a really great hand for it. She would host a gala at the end of the summer and showcase my paintings. Most would have been sold by the end of the night. That money would go to a bank account she had for me and told me that I would be able to access it once I graduated from university, as a gift. One summer, I put my heart and soul into this painting. It was one of my favorite trees in my grandmother's estate, a weeping willow. To make it fancier, I titled it in French, Le Saule Pleureur. My grandparents loved it. Everyone loved the painting and wanted to buy it, yet it was the only painting they never sold. Later, that year, I went to the Met Museum and told my grandparents I would love to have my own creation placed there someday. So for my 16th birthday, they surprised me by having that painting placed in the Met. Now every time they would come visit us, they would stay in their apartment in New York and we would go to the Met and pay the painting a visit. None of my family members here knew I could paint, so imagine their surprise when they came with us one time and saw my creation there. It is a sacred painting to me and my father knows that...and now, he just threw it away for the sake of winning this twisted game we are playing..." she said and started to tear up. "...For once in my life, I had a taste of what it felt like to be my own person and have something of my own and he just ripped that away because of his stupid company" she said dejectedly.

"What do you mean?" Tim asked curiously

"My whole life has been controlled by that man. From the moment I was born, I had a role to play. Another perfect daughter to the perfect family of the Vanderbilts who would then go on to become part of the Vanderbilt Hotels company. I wasn't allowed to do certain things, watch certain things, act a certain way, be with certain people, eat certain things, or be anything that did not scream Vanderbilt...the worst part was that no one ever asked what I wanted to be, who I wanted to be...until I came to Florence. Sure, people knew who I was, but no one actually cared? And it was so refreshing to be no one and being no one granted you freedom. Not only that, it was the only place I was asked what I wanted to do, and what did I like. My father has no jurisdiction over my grandparents and it felt great! There I was allowed to be, to feel, to dream, and I noticed, I didn't want what everyone else wanted from me," she said with a soft sigh

"What did you want to be and do?" Tim asked, his tone sincere. He did not know it, but he had been added to the list of Yn's favorite people, because ever since they met, the one thing Tim never stopped doing, was ask about her and try to get to know her and it had nothing to do with the Vanderbilt name. It just had to do with Yn.

"I never wanted the CEO position, or the COO, or the CMO. I wanted to be a painter and open up my own gallery and cafe. I wanted to name it Margaret's" she said smiling.

"Why Margaret's?" Tim asked also smiling. He asked and listened.

"My grandmother's name is Margaret. I wanted to honor her." she answered.

"Why not name it after yourself?" he asked again and she turned to look at him "How so?" she asked.

"Name it something after you, Yn, and celebrate your individuality" he answered and she felt her heart warm up, "You have spent your entire life searching to please everyone else, so why not name it after you?" he asked and she stiffened.

"Oh no no no wait, this is just a dream, Timmy, I can't do that. My father will find a way to disown me or or shut the whole thing down. He is real serious about continuing his legacy...why do you think we are doing this entire thing? I know that the only thing I can escape is this marriage, not the life," she said dejectedly. Tim stayed quiet for a second. Even if sometimes he and his siblings hated their situation, they could recognize that they had some freedom. They had chosen this life as vigilantes, and Bruce had always given them the chance to do whatever they pleased with their civilian lives. They had always had a choice, weather its was continue or not, they had a choice. They would support each other no matter what.

"you know….you are passionate, you are kind, you are beautiful, you are intelligent, resourceful, you are unique, unlike your sisters, you were able to break free from that chain of control, Yn, you are someone worth seeing.……and I see you," Tim said.

“Thank you, Timmy,” she said looking up at him as he hugged her tighter, "And most importantly, you will be free from all of this. I don't know how we are doing it, but this small heist of ours just raised the stakes." he told her.

"what do you have in mind?" she asked curious to see where this is going.

"Not only are we going to set you free from this damn arranged marriage, but we are setting you free period. And I’m introducing you to a whole new world," he said standing up and pulling her with him, "Miss Y/n Vanderbilt, I am about to become the worst influence in your life and introducing you to all the things your father forbade" he finished mimicking a British accent her giggle.

"Where are we going, Mister Drake Wayne?" she asked mimicking the way of speaking of a period drama".

"Have you ever been to Batburger, my lady" he asked making a curtsy

"I have not, kind sir" she said doing a curtsy of her own

"Well, you are in luck, because tonight's most refined dinner is there, cause I can assure you those small ass portions of tonight's dinner did absolutely nothing to my stomach. I feel famished." he said making her laughs and nodd in agreance. They were nearing the door but before they went out, Yn pulled Tim's hand and stopped him.

"Wait...Tim" she said and he turned to look back at her, raising an eyebrow," I also see you….just wanted you to know that" she said sweety and Tim smiled.

"Thank you, angel, that means a lot" he said, placing a kiss on her forehead and pulling her along.

They ran out of the room, holding hands, laughing loudly. They kept on running, with Yn leading the way to the nearest exit. They would shush each other trying to not get caught and finally went out the back door, smiling really bright.

Watching their exit from above a few stairs were Yn's mother and Aurora.

"Should we say something?" asked Aurora, who was worried for her younger sister. "No," said their mother, "Yn deserves this. If your father has a problem with it, he will come to me," she said and both women smiled at each other. They approved of Tim for Yn.

-•-

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