#fee barks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nsharks · 6 months

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twelve —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: *hint at sexual assault. please be cautious!* death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Dense mud packs onto the soles of your boots. You shift the near-empty backpack on your shoulder and slip back a few sweat-laced strands of hair from your face. Never before were you a morning person. In fact, you used to purposely sign up for all the afternoon lectures in uni. But now, time and sunlight are precious. You set out to search for the camp this morning with only a sliver of sunrise as your companion.

You hope Ghost was right.

He suspected that their camp would be situated in a location with easy access to the military base, river, and nearby village so they could draw resources from all three. So that's the direction you're headed in, squinting at nearby landmarks and interstate signs to help guide you. It's quite the hike: grueling, hilly terrain and moist air that you can't distinguish from your own sweat. You've stepped over some interesting sights along the way. An old forest station with CAMP FEES and LEAVE NO TRACE posters still outside. A small skeleton tucked in a bush with only child-sized rainboots left on it. For a moment, you saw Joseph. Toddling around in the puddles outside your sister’s house. You had to force yourself not to look at it for too long; you wiped your eyes, gritted your teeth, and prayed it had been painless for them.

You come to a narrow creek, crossing over a stone bridge that spits you out among dense evergreens. Finally, a faint column of smoke comes into view just above the forest's canopy.

That must be it.

It's certainly a sign, so you suck in a shaky breath, ignore the rush of blood in your veins, and do what Ghost suggested: climb a tree to get a better look.

There was a time not long ago when climbing trees was your only means of survival. This time, it feels so much easier to hoist yourself up and grip the bark as your muscles flex to steady yourself on a high branch. Luckily, there wasn't much to bring in the backpack Ghost gave you. For now, there's nothing in it other than your lighter, a roll of gauze, that romance book, and a small piece of dry wood.

Squinting your gaze, you make out the silhouette of triangular, orange tents and uneven fencing. Definitely a camp. The fence doesn't appear barbed from here, but it's at least a meter higher than the one that surrounds Ghost's place. You're close enough to see a few blue crates in the center that look like those ones from the military medical site. Is that what they're keeping the supplies in? It seems like the only obvious place based on the layout.

What you really want to know is how many people. Soundlessly, you shift your boots to get a different angle and finally spot movement coming out of one of the tents— a sizeable male wearing a leather jacket.

One.

Is that it?

Your eyes stay locked on the stranger for a minute, tracking his movement as he cooks something over the fire. He gives out a long whistle, the high-pitched sound audible even from where you stand nestled in the treetop. Panic seizes your breath: did he somehow see you and is alerting someone else? But no— you're much too far, and his eyes never shifted in your direction.

Instead, there's more movement, the faint shuffling of paws on the ground, and then a large dog appears at the man's side. He tosses something in front of it, what must be a slab of meat, because the dog is quick to start chowing down with the enthusiasm of a mindless Grey.

"Fuck me," you whisper to yourself, fingertips splintering against the bark. "Couldn't prepare me for that, huh, Ghost?"

The plan he instructed you with is fairly simple and straightforward— you'll just have to stick to it and be mindful of the additional obstacle. You've survived much worse even just a few days ago, so with that in mind, you slip down the column of the tree and purposefully backtrack your steps, gaining a bit more distance between you and the camp.

You need a ruse, something to draw the man out for enough time for you to grab the ammo. Ghost told you to bring the book to help get a fire started since the twigs and leaves here are damp after the storm, so you find a good spot and start ripping out the pages, crumpling them up. You arrange the piece of wood and paper in such a way that you have a minute or two before the smoke really gets going. You pull out your lighter from the pocket of your jeans, start it, and then head back towards the camp, this time going around so you can approach it from the side.

You keep your footsteps as light as possible while moving quickly. Once the man notices the smoke and leaves to scout it out, your timer starts. There's another whistle followed by a gravelly bark from the dog. You sneak close to the side of the fence, pausing behind a tree, just when you catch a glance of the stranger shucking a rifle over his shoulder and exiting out the gate. He shuts it behind him with a series of padlocks.

It won't take him long to find the source of the smoke and realize it's nothing, so you muster all your strength and begin climbing the fence, rusty links digging into your palms. You try to do it without making much noise, but the moment you jump down with a thud, the dog's head snaps in your direction. It begins to growl, flashing thick canines under its bloodied muzzle. You break out into a sprint toward the blue crates, but it crosses the span of the camp in mere seconds, clamping down on your forearm before you can even begin to look for the ammo.

The pain is white hot. You silently cry out as the dog shakes its head, tearing through the fabric of your coat and the tissue of your muscle.

"Fuck."

You tug at your arm, but it doesn't let go. Remembering the piece of squirrel meat you brought as a snack, you dig it from your pocket and wag it in front of the dog's face.

"Come on, let go— please."

It's enough to catch his attention, the bite on your arm loosening once you toss the meat a few meters away and he follows it. You clutch your arm with a ragged breath, ignoring the blood and pain that radiates from it.

The squirrel can only distract him for so long, so you urgently flip open the lid of the first crate. Staring back at you is a mix of what appears to be severed limbs and various animal parts. The pungent smell floods up your nose. You instantly clamp the lid back down, fighting the urge to vomit, and move on to the next one.

Ammo.

Plenty of it.

Without a second to waste, you sling off the backpack and begin stuffing it with the cardboard packs of cartridges, hoping it's the kind Ghost needs. When you tug the zipper closed, a decision pops into your brain: to keep looking through the other crates for medicine, or to get the fuck out of there. You take a millisecond too long to think about it because suddenly, you notice the dog from the corner of your eye, done with the meat and moving towards you with another throaty growl.

You tug the heavy backpack on and make a beeline for the closest side of the fence. In the panic, you fail to notice the creak of the gate opening until you are stumbling into a hard chest. A strong hand wraps around your bicep.

Fuck.

He's back.

This is it, then.

"Rocky— sit."

The growling behind you ceases. A whole new fear washes over you as you blink up at a rugged face. The stranger uses his other hand to take hold of your jaw, hard enough that your teeth are forced to grind together. In a heart-pounding silence, he inspects you, bluntly looking you up and down. Then, he takes out a knife and presses it to your neck. Your throat bobs against the icy metal.

"Fucking bitch," he mutters. "Start a fire to try and steal from me?"

"N-no!" Your brain reels for a lie. "No— I don't know what you're talking about. I-I came here looking for help."

"Try a better lie, sweetheart."

"I mean it," you stammer, holding onto the fact that he hasn't slit your throat yet. Raw desperation speaks for you. "My… my friends are gone. Someone attacked us a few days ago and killed them. I've been alone ever since and then I found your camp, hoping someone would be here to help me."

This seems to grab his attention. Dark eyes narrow. It's now you realize he's quite young, maybe in his thirties.

"Someone attacked you, huh? Who?"

"Um, some guy. I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him because he was… he was wearing a mask."

"So some guy killed all your friends by himself?" When you slowly nod, cringing at your terrible story, his jaw flexes. "I've lost my friends, too. They went out on a hunting trip three days ago and haven't come back."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you lie, swallowing. "So you… so you believe me?"

"I believe your friends are dead. I don't believe you didn't start that fire to distract me."

His words make your heart race. Again, his eyes trail down, and the knife follows, lowering to the floral fabric of your blouse and popping open one of the buttons.

"Take it off," he suddenly orders.

"W-what?"

"The shirt. Take it off. Let me decide if I should kill you or keep you."

You put on a brave face and do as he says, not given much room to protest despite the sick feeling that twists your gut. You drop the backpack, half-inclined to swing it at him, but then what? There is no way you can take him in a fight, especially since he's armed with a knife and gun, and there is no Grey this time to help you out.

The coat falls to the ground at your feet before you shakily undo the buttons of your blouse, wincing from the movement of your bitten arm. Crisp air greets your bare skin. Your nipples tighten uncomfortably and his gaze darts right to them, intensifying the churn in your stomach.

He gives a low whistle. "Lucky me."

Your nails jab crescents into the palms of your hands. "Am I… am I worth keeping, then?"

He bears a sick, toothy smile. "Pretty for a thief," he confirms. "Haven't seen someone so pretty in a few years now." His eyes flash to your arm and he reaches to grab it, making you choke. "Hell, Rocky. You gave her an ugly bite, though. Might get in the way of what I have in mind for you."

Half-naked, you are dragged by the arm to one of the blue crates. He slips the knife into his pocket in order to search through it. You notice pills, liquids, and a single glass bottle of what appears to be clear alcohol, which he pulls out along with a cloth.

"Tell me your name," he says, forcing you to sit down on a folding chair. "Before I enjoy you.”

You tell him quietly.

With an eery gentleness, he sits across from you and dabs the bite with some alcohol. The sting is immeasurable, but you roll your eyes to the sky and silence yourself. The feel of his cold, calloused fingers makes you imagine how they would feel touching other parts of your body. You need to think of something quick before he gets the chance to. He still has the gun on him, and the only knife you brought is in the jacket on the ground. Your eyes flicker to the bottle, which he set down by the leg of his chair.

"What's your name?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Leo."

"So, um, Leo— how did you end up here?"

"I was a new recruit in the military when shit started five years ago," he explains idly, fixated on your arm. "Stationed at the base nearby."

"I saw medical tents there," you mutter, clearing your throat. "Did you help with that?"

He chuckles. "For all of a day until some buddies and I decided to take what we could and leave. There was no point in trying to help people. We figured that out pretty quick."

"Oh. Were those the buddies who haven't come back?"

He nods. "I'm sure they're dead by now. But, one good thing is," he reaches for the gauze, sniggering lowly, "—that means I don't have to share you."

As he begins to unwrap the gauze, you decide he’s distracted enough. It happens in one, urgent motion. You clasp the alcohol bottle by the neck, arch it above his head, and thrust it down. The glass shatters, drenching him with alcohol and blood as a piece slices open his forehead. He immediately drops the gauze and hisses in pain.

"Bitch," he snarls. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

He leaps to his feet and pulls the knife out again. As he does, you dig the lighter out of your pocket and ignite a flame, bringing it to his soaked shoulder. Instantly, fire flashes up his neck and face in hues of orange and blue, even catching your wet fingertips. It renders him blind as he howls and tries to swing at you, but you immediately run away, rubbing your burned hand against your jeans.

You grab your discarded clothes and backpack before flinging open the crate with medicine in it. You begin stuffing as many bottles into the side pockets of the backpack as you can, breathing frantically.

"I'm going to kill you," he seethes again, and the firing of a bullet somewhere behind you means he must have grabbed his rifle.

But he still can't see, his eyes blistered by the flames that continue to lick his face. Each shot bites the ground as you heave the backpack on your shoulders and take off toward the fence.

The dog barks, louder and louder as he runs after you. You don't look back. You wad your clothes up in a ball and toss them over the fence to free up your hands. Then, you quickly climb up, the muscles in your face tightly clenched as the full backpack weighs you down.

You're too slow.

Teeth grab hold of your boot.

You're pulled back down, hands spreading out to break the fall.

In the mud, you wrestle beneath a snarling jaw, dirtying up your hair and exposed skin. This time, you don't hesitate to hurt the animal. You grab your lighter again and thrust the flame into the dog's eye, making it leap back with a pained squeal.

Freed, you scramble back up the fence.

You leap down. Grab your clothes

You can still hear him shouting as you run away, weaving through the thicket of trees. Only when the sound fades do you stop to catch your breath, sinking down against a tree and putting your clothes back on.

"Here."

A moan of relief escapes your lips the moment you shrug off the backpack and drop it at Ghost's feet. He crouches down, swearing under his breath when he unzips it and the ammo practically spills out. He grabs a few boxes, opening and inspecting them under the violet light of sunset. The walk back took you hours longer. You were almost tempted to sleep in a tree for the night, but the threat of Greys or any more strangers kept you going.

"Good. This is good, Twix." There's a hint of disbelief in his voice before he clears it away, zipping the backpack up. He stands and offers a lengthy look from your head to your boots. "How many were there?"

"Just one."

"Just one," he repeats, brow lifting. "And you look this roughed up. What happened?"

"There was a dog," you say dully, lifting your arm up to show him the bitemark in your sleeve. Beneath it, you already bandaged the wound, not wanting to draw attention to its scent. “Just a dog and a cannibal rapist guy."

"What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. I'm going to sleep."

Before you can take a step past him, warm fingers latch onto your wrist. So warm. You inhale a breath, a burn of moisture lining your eyes.

“Please don’t touch me," you request in a harsher whisper than you intend.

You can no longer see the details of him with how bleary your eyes are, but you feel his touch disappear.

"What happened?" he asks again, voice lowering.

"Nothing. I got your ammo and I handled it. When can we leave?"

There is a pause before he responds as if he is debating whether or not to drop the subject. For now, he does.

"Tomorrow, hopefully."

"Good." The back of your hand smooths over your eyes. "Don't— don't forget our deal, Ghost. Promise me."

A firm nod. "I don't back out on my word."

As if to prove it, he shucks off the jacket and hands it over.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod

1K notes · View notes

sytoran · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟏

you, a regular law-abiding citizen, saved the gods by accident. now, the goddess of lust, natasha, is going to grant you a wish. you could've had just about anything, but looking at the ethereal being before you, there's only one thing on your mind.

pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)

note: hello, folks! this is the long-awaited goddess!nat fic for the milestone event! i am quite proud of this fic, ngl... got a bit too carried away with some parts ;)

word count: 2.5k

the milestone event | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

When you jumped in front of a speeding car to save a cat on the road, you had absolutely no clue that the cat was not, in fact, a cat.

This not-cat was a species of flerken, and it’s name was Goose. Flerkens were extremely dangerous alien creatures. At least, that’s what the Goddess of Galaxies, Carol Danvers, told you.

Trust me, meeting an intergalactic space goddess with a pet killing-machine (that looked awfully like a cat) was about as chaotic and unbelievable as you would imagine it to be.

—

“H-holy fuck!” you yelled, jumping in your seat, as a glowing woman materialised before your very eyes, in your shithole of an office.

“I do not believe I am holy, even though I am a Goddess.” The woman stated, watching with curious eyes as you tittered over your split coffee. Lifting your laptop and muttering curses, then sifting through the messed up paperwork.

“You’re a what?” You asked distractedly, still panicking over the mess that is your desk. “My boss is actually going to murder me. Or maybe I’ll murder myself first. I am literally- Yeah, okay, how the fuck did you appear like that? And aren’t gods supposed to be like, really huge? You look kinda…… human.”

“I am a goddess.” Carol reiterated with slight annoyance. A literal extraterrestrial being was in front of your eyes, and the only thing you cared about was your damn coffee?

“We are beings you could only ever fathom from the depths of your imagination, powerful beyond measure. Which is also why we can shapeshift to look like regular human beings, so we won’t scare the shit outta you. Which seems to have still happened.”

You let out a dry bark of laughter. Carol wasn’t sure if you thought she was funny or you were about to burst into tears.

“So, why did you decide to visit me, ever-powerful, omnipresent, all-mighty being?” You asked, half-sarcastically, half simply given up on life itself. The report you had been working on for nearly an hour had been ruined by the fiasco earlier.

You dropped into your chair, kicking your feet up onto your desk. Loosening your black tie with a weary sigh, you looked at the Goddess’ eyes and continued. “I’m a nobody. I’m an overworked and underpaid attorney. I run on caffeine. I don’t know why or how you’re here, but I really–”

“You saved us. The Gods and Goddesses.” Carol interrupts, firm and unyielding. “We owe you, alright? You get one wish.”

“One wish, to get whatever it is you desire. Anything. Anything at all.”

—

Your story was absolutely one of zero to hero. From an ‘underpaid and overworked attorney’, to having the fucking gods of the multiverse indebted to you, it seemed like a rather unorthodox situation.

“So… what do you want?” Carol had asked you.

“Uhm, I don’t need anything,” you mumbled, fiddling with your loosened tie. “Like, it’s totally chill between us even if I saved your cat.”

Great. Real cool, Y/N. The middle school boys could never compare to your level of failed attempts at being cool.

“Goose is not a cat, alright?” Carol commented, offended. You mutter an apology.

“So, what do you want?” she continued impatiently. “Humans thrive off greed. You mortals always want something. What is it, money? A fancy car? A boyfr– okay, not to be stereotypical, but you’re definitely not straight. So, women on your mind?”

You splutter at her outright but nevertheless true allegation. Carol gives you this blank stare that makes you feel stupid.

“Well, I guess, as a woman, there’s something I do want,” you speak up after a while. Carol raises her eyebrows in interest. “Something I have wanted to try, you know.”

Leaning closer to whisper your deepest desire in the goddess’ ear, Carol’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. Her impressed, intrigued, embarrassed, and taken aback emotions all morphed into one expression, almost steals a laugh from your lips.

—

“You want me to grant you a cock.”

The Goddess of Lust sits in her throne, a picturesque image of perfection, the statement falling from her lips with such ease. There’s a lilt to her voice you can’t decipher. You just nod, looking unfalteringly at the goddess, as if it was the most normal request in the world.

The Goddess was slightly perturbed by your lack of, well, awe. There you were, standing in her grand palace, unfazed by the multi-million dollar chandeliers and gold-framed pictures, unfazed by her.

Natasha was just about the most exquisite sight people would kill to lay their eyes upon. Soft curls framed her delicately sculpted face like curtains to a stage, magnificent deep eyes and a more than well-endowed body to complement her pretty face. Her rose-gold dress of satins and sequins dripped with money. There was the thrall she exuded, of seduction so strong that had men and women falling to their knees.

Natasha was the Goddess of Lust for sakes, and the only thing you cared about was redeeming your wish?

She would’ve been annoyed, if not for how unfairly charming you were, standing with your hands in your pockets, a charming gentlemanly smile on your face.

“What kind of cock do you want?” Natasha resorts to ask, a playful smirk on her features. “I’ve seen some interesting ones over the years, intergalactic sex is far crazier than you would imagine. Ooh, do you want tentacles to-”

“Uh, no thanks.” You say hurriedly, a hand going out of your pocket to rub at your nose. It’s the first sign of discomfort or embarrassment Natasha’s seen from you. She grins.

“Just a regular human one?” She clarifies, pouting at you slightly.

“That’d be great, yeah.” You respond, back to smiling brightly. Natasha frowns. She knows that there’s something under that stupid gentlemanly facade you’re putting on. She’s craving to get a taste of it.

“What size?” The Goddess asks bluntly, like a Starbucks barista asking for your order on a Monday morning.

“A regular size would be fine, I suppose.” You respond in kind, nodding to yourself assuredly. Natasha winks at you. “Ah, a regular size, I see.”

Before you can decipher that cryptic response, the Goddess stands up, a pillar of superiority and authority. She snaps her fingers, and you’re being pushed back into a fancy chair. Where did the chair come from, anyway?

You forgo the answer to that question as the Goddess begins what you would assume to be the procedure. “Sit tight.”

A surge of pain presses against your crotch area, and you almost keel forward in shock, but the pain goes as quickly as it comes.

“Wait….. that’s it?” You ask, almost disbelievingly. Natasha nods proudly.

You look down, hands resting on your belt buckle.

You look up at the Goddess, and she only smirks.

You pull down your pants in swift fashion, letting out a quiet ‘whoa’ at the bulge in your boxers. It definitely feels bigger than would be regular, but then again you don’t have much knowledge of a man’s cock per se.

“Thank you,” You say, pleased with the results. Trying something new in the bedroom would definitely bring more life to your desolate days.

All too quick for the Goddess’ liking, you’re putting your clothes back on and getting ready to leave. “Thanks for your help,” You say calmly, turning to walk down the long passageway.

God, you just wanted to watch her fall apart.

As you walk, you feel Natasha’ eyes burning holes through your back. Oh, the tension was palpable, building with each step you took. It was getting harder to walk, with Natasha’s thrall like a heavyweight on your shoulders, willing you not to leave.

As you stand before the tall doors, you come to a standstill. Natasha waits in her throne with bated breath, so many words fighting to fall from the tip of her stubborn lips.

Your hand pushes down on the door handle, and that’s the last thing you can do before Natasha snaps her fingers again, and the tension is broken like a snapped coil. Suddenly, you’re pressed against her, looking into her dilated pupils.

“You’re so annoying, you know? I’ve been so fucking horny, looking at you this whole time, and you were about to get up leave?” Natasha asks, her tongue coming out to dart at her pink lips. Her hands have grasped your forearms, but your hands are cinched around her waist, disabling movement.

“No,” you breathe, head moving down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of her poised neck. “I was waiting for you.” The Goddess throws her head back under your fleeting touch.

“Fuckin’ tease,” she mumbles, and you smirk against her skin. You’re rough with her, too, knowing that she isn’t made of glass, sucking purple marks into the pale skin of her neck, shoving your knee between her legs to spread them wider.

“Too much clothes,” Natasha breathes, and then with a burst of magic you’re stripped bare of any article of clothing. Her hands fly to your cock instantaneously, wrapping her delicate fingers around your semi-hard member.

You grunt against her skin, struggling to find a better position to properly have her. Since she’s sitting in the throne and you’re bent over above her, you can barely have her the way you want. Due to your lack of magical power, you resort to doing things the hard way.

Your hands slide under Goddess’ dress, going under her thighs, and then manhandling her up. Natasha’s whines of disapproval turn on deaf ears as you sit yourself in the grand chair, plopping her onto your lap. You don’t miss the way her thighs are already slightly damp.

“Need you inside now, fuck,” Natasha growls into your skin, climbing onto your cock as your hands squeeze at her thighs. You proceed to rip the fabric off her skin, deciding that there’s too much clothing restricting you from getting your hands on her.

And boy, was that a sight you’d never forget.

“Oh!” The Goddess cries, when you lean forward to wrap your lips around her hardened bud. Your hands don’t rest for a moment, squeezing everywhere – hips, thighs, breasts, ass — whatever you can get your hands on. She’s fucking exquisite.

The stimulation seems to work wonders for Natasha’s pleasure, as she engulfs your cock in her warmth with fervour.

You gasp lowly, a throaty sound escaping your lips. Her hips and ass go up and down, working her cunt around the girth of your cock, wet and warm and slick. You can barely keep up with how desperate she is, and the fact that you have this wonder of a woman falling apart at your hands makes your heart soar.

Matching the rhythm of short upward thrusts with Natasha’s riding makes her moan out loud, a pretty melodious sound that imprints itself into your brain all at once. You wanna hear it a hundreds of times more.

Natasha gets more messy with her riding, as you suck hickeys, light ones and fierce ones, into her collarbone and her neck and breasts. You can’t resist the urge to slap her on the ass as she rides you like it’s the last day she’d be on this universe.

“Ah!” The Goddess moans, and you grip her thighs and push her down hilt deep, and her eyes roll into the back of her head. You feel her cum around your cock, so needy and desperate and mindless, and that triggers your own climax.

Natasha hadn’t even begun to open her eyes again before she ends up on the floor and you hovering above her, your hands fervently spreading her cunt open. You duck your head down, licking a long stripe up her puffy clit.

The Goddess writhes, unintelligible moans falling from her lips as you proceed to give her the best fucking cunnilingus of her life.

You’re more than determined to make this an unforgettable experience for the Goddess who probably had sex every other day.

Natasha doesn’t know what the fuck you’re doing with your tongue, but you’re ravenous and your carnal desire makes her even wetter than before.

She’s slept with plenty of people, human or not, but none of them had ever been this uncouth about her pussy. Oh, it nearly drove her mad, but she was already seeing stars.

Before the Goddess registers what’s happening, your hardened cock slides into her cunt with a flippant ease once again. Natasha lets out a filthy moan as she feels it throb inside her, clenching around you hard.

You slap her thigh in retaliation, but feeling the sudden strike of pain only turns her on further. “Gonna fill you up so good,” you pant. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Natasha takes it as a promise, when you spread her thighs and line your cock up with her pussy. The Goddess of Lust doesn’t think she’s ever wanted anyone this bad.

You enter her roughly, your previously calm exterior completely faded away. You fuck her deeper with each thrust, opening the Goddess up. Pounding into the woman’s cunt like a woman starved, you hear her beg and cry with each thrust.

“Oh, please! More! More!” The Goddes cries, nearly screaming your name every time your blunt head pushes against her cervix. You only get spurred on further, going at a pace so painfully fast you don’t know if you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

You swallow at the sight of this Goddess, completely breathtaking in her state of unravelling.

“My divine Goddess,” You say, leaning down to press a kiss against the bulge of your cock at her lower stomach.

Those words in itself have Natasha uncoiling before you, your name falling from her lips like a sacred mantra. Her walls are wrapped around your cock so tight, her nails digging into your back so hard it nearly draws blood.

“My divine Goddess,” you repeat, eyes glazed over, reaching your own climax inside her. Natasha lets out a filthy moan, feeling each throb of your cock in her as walls of cum pulse inside her, again and again.

God, it feels so good, everything everywhere all at once, your world becoming Natasha, Natasha, Natasha.

You think you could stay like this forever.

—

A long bath and a trip to the Goddess’ bedroom later, you’re laying on her expensive silk sheets, hair smelling like rosemilk or whatever that shampoo had been called.

You honestly don’t know how this gorgeous woman’s been charmed by your awkward humour and the coffee stain on your work shirt, but you’re definitely not complaining as she nuzzles into your neck, humming in satisfaction.

“You sure that’s the first time you’ve ever had a cock?”

taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @nemowevoli @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @jemilyswhor3 @manyfandomsfanvergent @jlsammy23 @spongebobs-tie1 @kiyozoe6778 @lovebelt05 @girllcver @godsfavouritelesbiann @natashaswife4125 @ezay @forthelesbians @wlwfanfictionss @forthelesbians @cowxpoke @supaheroine @saqua14 @olsensnpm @33_mrvl @gay4ols3n @knellyc30 @eatkobi @stitch26gp @cqllarbqne @lovelyy-moonlight @diannaswhore @wandaromanoff69 @shuriri4life @inluvwithfictionalwomen @Cooldogs02 @jedi-athen-orion @alyciaddict @blackqueensforeva @lovelyy-moonlight @gingerninja1993 @yourfavdummy @iliketigolbitties @scarlttolsn @blackbirdv98 @mxxnligxt @riomiyawakisstuff @alex4424 @0DeadandCold0 @mr.romanoff @mandy-asimp @idontwannabehereatm @daenerys713 @xxsekhmet @marvel_simp @maowlxslay @lizbugwanda @peggycarter3 @flositaa @dooblekhay @aliherrerasz @theo-021 @hopelesslyfalleninlove @secretbackrooms @natasha10273 @justyourwritter69 @theo-221b @wandaromanoff69

NEXT PART | series m.list

the milestone event | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

#natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #bottom natasha romanoff #sub natasha romanoff #x reader #marvel #marvel smut #marvel women #top reader #dom reader #gxg smut #wlw smut #goddess natasha #sytoran's 2k celebration

2K notes · View notes

mistmouth · 2 months

Text

I'm so fucking puppy doggy, why am I at work :(

#fee barks #trans woman #transgender #therian

14 notes · View notes

suguae · 6 months

Text

"you wish you never ever met her at all..."

G.Satoru x f!reader|

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That smirk that plastered your perfect little face. How Satoru would love to fuck it right off your face. He hated you. Satoru loved the attention he would get from the uni campus, but you took it right from him ever since you came.

Now you are crashing his party, which you weren't invited to. Walking in with that little black dress that perfectly hugged your curves. Oh, how he loved it. And so did many others as most eyes were on you. Starting small conversations with everyone you walk past.

What he hated the most was that he didn’t even hate you.

The very first day when you arrived Satoru tried shooting his shot. Immediately, you rejected him. Which lowered his ego way more than he anticipated. Seeing you talk to many other men who weren't even half as good looking as Satoru.

"The hell are you doing here?" His brows furrow as you finally walk up to him. He wasn't stupid though. He knew you'd come.

"Was I not invited?" You pout as you trace your finger along his chest onto his biceps. 'Fuck.' He thought to himself.

"You knew damn well you weren't invited." He shoves your hand that was wrapped around his bicep. Though he loved the thought of your little hands wrapping around him as he fucked you relentlessly.

You looked around acting confused, "But everyone is here, why not me?"

Before he could even bite back, you walked off.

He’s been eager to see you all night but he was unable to find you. That is till he catches you leading some underclassmen into the bathroom of his house. He felt heart rate increasing, pushing past people while he fumes with anger.

He forces the door open to see you sitting on the sink as the random boy leaned up all in your neck. How your lips were plump, hair all messy and the skanky dress revealing your lace black thong. “What the fuck are you doing in here.”

The underclassman swiftly turns around, seeing Satoru furious.“Hey man I’m sorry…she came at me-”

“Get the fuck out.” Satoru says staring deeply into your soul as all you could do was just smirk at him. While the underclassman runs out the bathroom, Satoru slams the door closed.

“So this is what you do? Fuck around with me?” Satoru grabs your face bringing it closer to his. “Wanna act so fucking hard to get with me? Then fuck around with these little boys?”

You squirm trying to get out of his grasp, “They wouldn’t even know what to do with you.”

“And you do?” You attempt to say as Satoru’s grip around your face tightens. It started to hurt, feeling his fingers dig through your cheek.

“I can fuck you till you can’t even form a proper sentence.” He grits his teeth, rapidly letting go of your face.

His lips crashing onto yours, your lips tasting like the strawberry glossed you always use. You nibble his bottom lip as the kissing gets slopier. Your hands slid down his abdomen, removing his shirt that defined every muscle he had. But looking at his bare skin was much better.

“God you're so fucking hot.” Seeing the way his lips plumped up and turned red, his hair messed up from removing his shirt.

“Save it for later…” he carries you off the sink, pushing your head down as a sign to get on your knees, “I’m not sucking your dick.” You bark at him but all he did was smirk.

“It’s not really an option.”

The pornographic noises of you sucking his shaft as the music from the party plays in the background. Satoru whispering small ‘fuck’ ‘shit’ ‘good girl’ as he has one handful of hair in one hand while the other holds up his phone. Making sure to get every detail. Your mascara running down, saliva running down from your mouth onto your tits.

“Keep going..almost..there princess.” Satoru sucks in a sharp breath; feeling your cold little hands fondling his balls. His free hand forces your throat to take his dick deeper; repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

“mmm’look at you..gagging on this dick.” He points the camera closer to your face, hungrily fucking your mouth feeling himself reaching his max. He takes his dick out and gives it a few strokes before it paints your face. The frosted liquid drips from your eyebrow onto your eye and some into your mouth.

“Show them my cum all over your face…” he pants while moving the camera all around your face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue following with a high pitched ‘ahh’.

“Should’ve gotten some on those pretty tits of yours” putting the phone down as you heavily breathe for air. Satoru helps you up by your arms and turns you around to look at yourself in the mirror. “Do those little fuckers make your pretty mascara run like that?” you nod, boosting his ego even more.

He bends down examining your tiny wet cunt, giving soft kitty licks. Your body squirming; feeling his soft tongue sucking the juices from your pussy. The pornographic noises are now coming from him as you're begging for him to give you more. “Mm..More Satoru.” you can feel his smirk form on your pussy. His hand now flicking your clit while his tongue explores your warm cunt. You can feel your body quivering under his touch.

“Toru~ m’gonna cum…”

His fingers now thrusting inside you coming in contact with the rubbery gushy spot that made you feel so good.Your legs crossing as he keeps abusing the same spot in your pussy while every now and then he pinches your clit. “Cum on my fingers f’me princess.”

You loudly moan as you feel your climax reach, Cumming all over Satoru’s fingers. “Good girl, do they make you cum just by fingering you?” He whispered as he shoved his fingers inside your mouth. You nod again, and of course Satoru smirks.

“Have you ever done anal?” He nibbles your ear while your body was already so fragile.Bent over the sink as you slightly shiver. He takes a picture of your cunt while he waits for your answer. “Answer me.”

“No.” you breathlessly say, pushing the strands of hair on your face behind your ears. “Do you want it? My dick up your tiny asshole?” He kneads your boobs while peppering your neck with little kisses.

“Yes, daddy.” He could feel blood rush to his shaft, he wasn’t really expecting you to agree with his idea. Nor did he expect you to call him daddy. “Look at you~” He praises you while sending small slaps to your ass cheeks.

He has you bent over the bathroom sink again, this time he gathers a bunch of spit from his mouth and spit on your asshole. Slapping his tip on your ass before positioning himself. “It’s gonna hurt a little.” He warns you, delicately placing soft sloppy kisses on your back.

‘mkay...hurry’ you whined.

And he did, slowly pushing his cock into your tight asshole. Moaning out your name as your tight ass suffocated his dick. ‘Hurts toru~’ You sob. His pace increases as you cry out. ‘shhh i know…’ he watched your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as the sobbing turns into lewd moans. ‘Fuck this ass feels sooo good.’ he grunts.

‘Mhm..yeah..’ you moan as you try to reach for his hand. Grabbing his hand and guiding it down to your clit. He chuckled breathlessly, he had already fucked you dumb. Not being able to use your words. Only hearing the high pitched moans coming out of your sweet mouth.

Satoru rubs your clit as he thrust deeper and deeper into your ass. He can feel himself getting closer and closer to his climax. And he knew you were too, the moaning getting louder and your body shaking as he increased his speed.

Before he knew it, your asshole filled with his cum. How sexy it looked oozing out of your pretty little ass he couldn't help but snap another picture. One with his dick inside your as and one without.

His hand still rubbing your clit as your moaning took over, your own liquid running down your legs now, ‘Fuck toru~”

Your body was limp and your eyes could not stay open, “Do those little boys fuck you like that? Hmm?” He cleans off all the cum and helps you redress yourself.

“Oh shut up.” You say adjusting one strap to your dress as Satoru was redressing himself now. You whimper as you feel a slap on your right ass cheek.

“Answer me..” he kisses your lips and wipes the mascara from under your eyes as much as possible.

“No they don’t.” You smiled.

“atta girl..that smile suits you more.” He opens the bathroom as you wrap your arm around his.

The embarrassment consumes you as you see many people giggling at you two leaving the bathroom together; looking like you guys just had the time of your lives.

I mean you guys did.

#maneater #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #rosipuree

487 notes · View notes

the-californicationist · 5 months

Text

he trims his beard

Pirate!Price/Reader

God, I want to write thirty damn chapters about Pirate!Price so badly. Someone tell me not to, please? Lol. Otherwise, y'all might be getting thirty chapters of Pirate!Price...

MDNI/18+ TW: virginity reference

Summary:

Captain John Price is king of the Seven Seas, and after he saves your life, you owe him a debt. His fee? To take you as his wife.

The Mediterranean Sea, 1708

“I just can’t…ARGH!” Price slammed his hand down on the porcelain basin as he tried to shave his chin, unable to use his right hand after the accident.

You pitied him, but you were still terribly afraid of him. When he rescued you, you thought he had been Death riding in on his ghostly white ship. But, now that he had been with you going on a fortnight, you realized the hardened, gruff exterior was but a hard shell encasing the soft, warm center of Captain Price, leader of the Queen’s special unit of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy.

You’d been marooned on Cassadaga Island for two days, stripped of your jewelry and purse, beaten within an inch of your life, and left for dead. Your would-be husband had planned the whole attack, hoping to cash in on the dowry money. The joke was on him. Your father had a gambling problem and had not two coins to rub together. The musket he kept above the mantle didn’t even have any gunpowder in it, you were so destitute. As soon as your fiancé found out about your lack of adequate funding, he tossed you overboard on his father’s ship. When Captain Price found you there, you were barely hanging on.

The captain had nursed you back to health, promising to chase down the vagabond and kill him for his dishonor. He’d been true to his word, slaughtering the lot of them, but during his vengeful assault, he’d been shot through the hand with a musket. You’d cleaned the wound, and he had yelled at you for the pain. Now, you were cowering in the corner of your shared room, back to being a prisoner.

He eyed you from his shining mirror above the basin,

“C’mere, girl.”

You edged closer. It wasn’t quick enough for him, so he crossed the room, his black leather boots banging on the ash wood of his quarters.

“I said come here,” he growled, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you over to the wash bowl, razor in his uninjured hand.

He let go of you, straightened himself, and sighed, fixing his harshness into a more genteel tone,

“My apologies,” the words came out of his mouth oily and practiced, not at all his natural verbiage, “Would you be so kind as to trim my beard? With my injury, and my left hand being more useless than a fuckin’ hook, I am at your mercy.”

He handed you the razor and you took it from him,

“Yes, sir - I mean, Captain. Yes, Captain.”

You were stuttering, full of abject fear at his possible retaliation.

As you approached his face with the razor, your hand was trembling and he noticed it. Something in him softened, his icy blue eyes melted just enough for him to hold you around your waist and gaze down at your face,

“It’s okay, pretty girl. My bark and my bite are both nasty, but I won’t harm you.”

His warm body was so close to yours, and with him leaning over you, breathing into your space, you could smell the tobacco scent that lingered in his clothes and beard. His long, braided hair was adorned with gold coins, bent and twisted into it to make little beads, and he had been caramelized by the sun. At the top of his sternum, you could see thick tufts of curly hair poking from his shirt. You tried not to stare.

“Captain,” you asked as sweetly as you could, “Can you sit, sir, so that I may reach your cheek?”

He smiled,

“Alright, love.”

He sat on his down mattress. The bed creaked at the addition of his familiar weight.

At this more convenient angle, you were able to reach his face and neck, so you began your task. You applied the foam in thin layers, working gently as you went, mindful that the captain kept his blades sharp enough to cut steel twine. What you hadn’t realized was that, by requesting that he sit, he was in full, direct eye sight of your heavy breasts. They were corseted up, as was the fashion, but without your normal over-dress to cover you, your nipples ghosted through the thin chemise, hinting at little pebbles beneath the surface. He had not stopped staring at them since you began to shave him.

You looked down while you were cleaning the blade, trying to discreetly glimpse at his growing passion, curious and fearful all at the same time. His breeches could barely contain him, and his thick phallus pressed into the join of his pants. He caught you staring, and he laughed at your rosy complexion, rolling his eyes,

“Ha! Embarrassed at your thirst, pretty girl? Surely those vagabonds did not leave you a virgin during your ordeal.”

“They did, sir,” you admitted, returning to your work, sad at having been discovered sinning with your abject perversion.

He made a small noise, unable to talk while you were shaving his prominent chin, careful around the curve of the bone. He liked to keep the sides long, trimming them with shears, but he always shaved his chin. You followed the razor’s line down his neck, careful not to knick his protruding Adam’s Apple.

“Is that so?” The captain purred.

“Yes, sir. At my fiance’s order.”

“Ah, I see.”

He was silent again, his eyes growing hungrier at the sight of you. His hands returned to your hips as the waves tossed the large vessel on the high seas. You stilled, feeling your belly flutter, wondering if it was seasickness or excitement from his newly focused touch.

“You alright, love? Bit choppy tonight. Storm’s brewin’.”

“Oh,” you nodded, finishing with his neck, “There. All finished, Captain.”

He moaned, holding your hips tighter, situating you between his open knees,

“Shame, that. I was enjoying your skillful hand, pretty girl.”

You blushed, setting the razor cleaned back in its case,

“Thank you, Captain Price. And thank you again for your rescue. I would be dead if not for your mercy. I am in your debt.”

“Aye,” the Captain eyed you slyly, “a steep debt at that. Your dowry should solve that for us. Then, you’ll be on your way. When we land in Málaga, your father can pay me.”

“Sir,” you gasped, “I don’t have one. My father took it to the game house and lost it on his cards.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you looked down at him in shame, hoping his mercy was deeper than his greed.

“Hmm, I see. Then, perhaps you would consider a captain as your betrothed?”

You looked up at him in shock, and he was amused by your fear. He used one hand to hold you by the hip, and his other, uninjured hand delicately pulled at the silk ribbon of your bodice, aiming to free you from your painful restraints.

“Y-y-yes…sir,” you could feel the heat on your cheeks, “My family would be most pleased with such a match.”

“Bugger your family, girl. They left you for dead. If you’re mine, you’ll be only mine. Once I have a bounty in my grasp, there’s not a man on God’s green earth who could take it from me. Does that scare you, girl? Do you want to run off home, turn to the cloth, become a nun instead?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No, sir. I owe you my life, and if it is my hand that you wish, I must oblige you.”

“I wish not your hand, love…” His tone was darkly suggestive, “Well, maybe at first.” He laughed warmly.

It was a joke that you had missed, but you knew it was your innocence that kept you from divining its meaning. In your core, your body yearned for him. Seeing him command his men, the fiercest swords on the Seven Seas, watching him take down pirates and vagabonds like it made his heart beat in his breast, it was mystifying. His huge muscles and broad bones made his tall figure all the more imposing, and every port you landed in, women swooned over him while the men cowered in fear. Yes, you’d enjoy him as a husband. No one would ever dare lay a hand on you again.

“What are your terms, Captain, should I accept your proposal?”

He ran a finger into the hole he had created in your leather bodice, letting you feel his warm touch through the thin fabric of your chemise. It electrified you.

“You’ll be mine, and only mine. I’ll be yours, and only yours. When I fill you with my seed, you’ll carry my children, and you’ll love them in earnest. You’ll sail with me, and learn the trade. There’s no comfortable manor house awaiting you, girl. What say you?”

“I agree to your terms, sir. But, I have one of my own.”

“Name it.”

“You’ll not lay a hand to me or our children, no matter the height of your rage.”

“Never. You have my word.”

Looking into his eyes, softened and vulnerable now, he meant it. You felt relief for the first time in weeks. Safe, protected, cared for, and welcomed into his adventures. It was everything you’d dreamed of. All of your childhood friends had dreams of servants and painting rooms and buying linens, while you had wanted to see the world. Here he was, offering it to you.

“I accept.”

“As do I, love. Now,” he finished removing your corset and bodice top, letting it fall to the floor, “as your husband, I’ll have what I’m owed.”

“Yes, Captain. But, please,” you felt a tear roll away from your wet lashes, “be gentle with me.”

“I promised no such thing,” he said, lowering his mouth to your nipple, sucking it and wetting the silk of your chemise, using his hand to pull down the fabric on your other breast, exposing it to the sea air.

You gasped, feeling his hot mouth explore your skin, your nipples tightening in the heat of his attentions. He was using his tongue to flick back and forth across the tip of your breast, not caring that you were trembling at every swipe of his tongue or thumb. You moaned, involuntarily, as you felt the sparkle of pleasure rush into your belly, making you wet under your skirts. While you had explored yourself plenty of times to discover the hidden secrets of your body, to have a man - especially such an aggressor like Captain Price - do it, it was so much more exciting. His forbidden fruit made you clench your legs together, upset and tingling within your core.

“Mmm,” he praised you, “Like that, love?”

“Yes, Captain,” you whispered softly, placing your hands on the back of his neck, rubbing the firm musculature you discovered there.

“Good girl,” he told you, pinching your nipple cruelly to make you moan again.

He kissed you then, full and with his long, ravenous tongue, forcing it into your mouth to feel your tongue and throat, the silky skin of your cheek. As he kissed you, he was busy rucking up your skirts, searching for your dripping heat. He found it, and he stilled. Barely moving, he stopped kissing you and looked up into your eyes with his stark blue ones, a look of pure delight on his face.

“Oh, my stars. There it is. You’ve been hiding it from me. So willing? Tell me the truth. Have you been hungering for me as I have been for you?”

It would not be proper to confess such a thing, even to a man who would be your husband. You shook your head in denial, pressing your lips together to keep from telling the truth.

“Say it! Tell your naughty thoughts to me, love. This is not the cunt of a frightened girl.”

You blushed, red as a rose, unable to meet his gaze.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he moved his finger inside of you then, gently sinking into his drooling sheath, ready to send home his sword to it.

“Y-yes,” your voice was barely audible.

“Yes? What have you been thinking of?” He returned to your nipple, pressing his finger deeper into you, massaging your walls as he explored.

“You…when you fight pirates, sir. You look…”

He chuckled, biting your firm nipple softly, teasing you,

“You like seeing me murdering those devils, do you? In all my days, I never thought I’d find a lass who had a taste for war.”

“Not the war, sir. Just the warrior. You seem to be in command of the chaos, and my body…well, I guess…I am unsure how to describe it.”

He pulled you down to the bed and tossed you on your back, rutting against you with his length, letting his hardness press into your core through his breeches.

“You like seeing me in charge, hm? Your captain, barking his orders, tossing those traitorous rats into the drink, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” you confessed, rolling in the broiling pleasure he was building inside of you, his hand knuckle-deep inside of your core.

“Good,” he said smugly, “Then, I have a command for you.”

You looked up at him, watching him roll your skirt up above your knees, his eyes never leaving your dripping folds. He smiled when he saw it gleam for him.

“What do you ask of me, my love?”

“Open your legs, girl. Feed yourself to your Captain.”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #captain price #captain price x reader #john price #cod #captain price x you #pirate price

422 notes · View notes

prythianpages · 2 months

Text

You're Good To Me | Eris x Reader

summary: Eris realizes two things. One, he's in love with you, his brother's betrothed. Two, he's put you in danger.

warnings: angst, mentions of killing, but there is some fluff in the middle!

a/n: This one is inspired by Hozier's Would That I. Eris is so Hozier coded and when I heard this song, I couldn't help myself but write this. You can find the masterlist for this series here or just read this as a stand alone imagine. I rewrote the last scenes to this so many times within the past couple of hours but I think I'm finally content with this.

The late morning sun casts long shadows through the towering trees of the Autumn Court's sprawling estate, dappling over Eris with golden hues. Resting against a centuries-old oak, he reads a book–your book–while his hounds run about freely. Occasionally, they bring him a random stick that he happily throws.

She was soft as an angel but oh, she could love with the fury of a demon–

Clover, his youngest hound, barks, pulling his attention from the book. It’s one that has an adorable chirp to it. His fingers still on the page he was about to turn. Recently, there’s been only one other person–besides him, of course– who can elicit such a sound.

With a roar of a fire, Eris’s heart rises to its feet, mirroring Clover’s excitement. He can feel you too. You’re close. The book he was reading lays forgotten in his lap as he listens for the telltale sound of hoofbeats drawing near.

You had gone for a morning ride with his mother as you’ve done nearly every morning for the past week. How convenient for Eris to be reading near the stables around the time you’d return.

He was strategically positioned not to be in your direct line of sight but for you to come into his.

You’re laughing at something his mother said and the small smile that tugs at his lips is almost inevitable. He lifts his gaze, admiring the carefree expression on your face and the way the sunlight catches your hair. Clover lets out a small wine, tail wagging in anticipation as she watches you. She looks back at Eris, as if asking if she could run to you, and though Eris isn’t one to deny his hounds, he shakes his head at her. He wants to bask in your presence from afar awhile longer.

He can tell your lips are moving but from where he sits, he can’t discern your words. The soft pat you give your horse, Maximus, and the responding loud neigh is enough to clue him in. Maximus stands proud, his long white mane blowing in the gentle morning breeze as you dismount him with the help of one of the stablemen. You traded your pretty dresses for something more fitting for your morning ride. His gaze lingers on the way your pants cling to your curves longer than it should.

A low growl from Clover has him abruptly tearing his gaze away from your body. He watches as you run toward an older male. Your smile is so bright it competes with the sun as you throw your arms around your father. There’s something unsettling about the way your father looks at you. Something that makes your father undeserving of your smile.

While you look up at him in admiration, he looks at you as if you are his most prized possession. An object. He can tell his mother senses it too by the forced smile on her face as she politely greets him.

In the blink of an eye, Clover is darting toward you with an urgency that startles Eris. The rest of his hounds pause, their muscles tensing as they watch the scene unfold. Your eyes widen in pleasant surprise. Clover bounds towards you, her tongue eagerly reaching out to shower you with affection.

“Do they just let vile creatures roam around freely here?” He hears your father loudly ask with a scowl on his face.

“Her name is Clover,” you are quick to correct, turning toward your father again.

Clover turns with you and suddenly, she’s growling and snapping at him. With a yelp, your father falls to the ground on his butt while Clover lowers her head with another growl in warning. Eris rises to his feet and brings his finger to his lips, letting out a sharp whistle.

Just as quickly as Clover had escaped his side, she obediently makes her way back to him. Your gaze follows after her, and it's then that you spot Eris. There's a softness in your gaze as it lands on him. Despite the tension between Clover and your father, you seem unfazed. Your focus solely on Eris as the stablemen rush to help your father, who is groaning out profanities while his mother apologizes on Eris’s behalf.

Eris holds your gaze, patting Clover’s head in a reassuring manner. He’s not sorry about the whole ordeal. His hounds are trained to appear menacing and fearsome but they never attack without reason. Now, he’s inclined to investigate further, realizing he does not know enough about your father.

“Come along,” your father says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and forcing your attention back to him. He looks down at your outfit and a frown appears on his face. “You’re a Lady now, y/n. You need to dress like it.”

“I’m sorry,” he hears you apologize, unsettling him further. He watches as your body is enveloped by a golden glow and when he blinks, your riding outfit is replaced by a soft pink gown.

As your father rushes you back toward the forest house, you can’t help but glance back. There’s the slightest curve to Eris’s lips at that. He waves your book in a teasing manner, reveling in the immediate response he receives. You quickly turn back around and even from his distance, he can appreciate the blush that warms your cheeks. He feels a similar warmth swell in his chest, leaving him already anticipating seeing you again at dinner.

Eris hesitantly turns the final page of the book, as if reluctant to part ways. He had needed something to preoccupy himself with until dinner and with his father thankfully busy entertaining yours, he decided to immerse himself further into the book you held dear. He knew it was one you treasured by the worn-out cover and the pages threatening to detach from the spine. He’s almost distraught at the creases that line the top edges of random pages but is willing to forgive you for it.

His gaze settles on the last words, a bittersweet ache tugging at his heartstrings.

"You are the love that came without warning. You had my heart before I could say no,” he breathes, holding her close. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” she croaks out as she looks up at him, blood seeping from her mouth. “I love you too.”

And as she drew her last breath, he felt his world end with it.

He stares at the words, reading them over and over again. Finally, he closes the book, but the words linger, echoing within him like a haunting melody. They stir emotions in him he’s never felt towards the ending of a book before. He feels lost. Angry. Disbelief. What kind of ending was this? If this book wasn’t yours, he would’ve flung it across his room.

He lets out a deep exhale, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. When he opens them, he looks at the clock hanging across the wall from him. Two hours until dinner still looms ahead. He wants to find you, to tell you his thoughts like you told him to but it’s too risky at this moment.

Rising from his seat, he gingerly sets your cherished book down on the small table beside him. He grabs his coat, deciding fresh air will do him well. Perhaps, even a walk through the village. There is a shop he’d like to visit. Anything to quiet his thoughts and the clamor of his racing heart. The characters from the book struck a chord too familiar with him.

“Hold my hand.”

“No.”

Eris pauses at the voices, eyes immediately finding the owners. There's a notable gap between you and Sawyer, tension crackling in the air as you exchange heated glances. For a moment, Eris wonders if there’s fire coursing through your veins too.

“Listen,” you start. “I don’t want to hold your hand but I want my father to believe I’m happy.”

Sawyer lets out a chuckle. “Your father doesn’t care.”

The look of hurt that flashes in your eyes is enough to have Eris’s blood boiling. “Can’t you at least do this one thing for me?” You plead, clasping your hands in front of him.

“Nope,” Sawyer repeats, accentuating the “p” sound, evidently relishing in the opportunity to further irk you.

“Gods, you’re such an–an…”

Sawyer raises a challenging eyebrow, his gaze locking onto you as your voice wavers, the resolve slipping away. "Say it," he whispers sharply, and Eris's muscles tense instinctively, not liking his brother's tone. Maybe, he should intervene…and teach Sawyer another lesson.

“You’re an asshole.”

Eris almost chokes on his own spit. He fights back the urge to laugh. Not at you, but at the sheer surprise written all over Sawyer's face. Sawyer clearly hadn't expected such boldness from you, and if Eris were to be honest, he is surprised too. Pleasantly surprised.

“Only for you,” Sawyer hisses back, surprise morphing into offense.

“I won’t even breathe in your direction for the next week.”

“And?”

You look at him incredulously. “And?”

Sawyer doesn’t respond. He folds his arms tightly across his chest, letting you know he expects more from you. Your response is a frustrated huff, a sound that would have typically elicited an amused smile from Eris. But not at this moment.

“Fine. I’ll cover for you for all the days leading up to our wedding. Do whom and what as you please. But–” you pause, holding a finger out to him. “–you have to say something nice to me in front of my father too.”

Sawyer’s lips curve into a pleased smirk. “That’s more like it, poo bear,” he purrs, bringing his hand up to pinch at your cheek a little too rough for Eris’s liking.

His fists clench at his sides, watching with envy as Sawyer slowly offers you his arm. Though it’s what you asked for, you eye it with caution. As soon as your hand is lifting to take Sawyer’s arm, Eris finally decides to make his presence known. He walks forward and toward the still notable gap between you and his younger brother. His shoulder purposely bumps into Sawyer’s, a mask of indifference on his face as he does so.

On the other side, his fingers graze against yours. A gesture so subtle it appears to be accidental. There’s no nuance in your expression but your fingers respond, gently lingering over his own. A tug on that golden thread in his chest has his steps wanting to falter. He does not give in, pushing forward instead.

Eris walks into the dining room and settles into his seat beside his mother, nodding a greeting to both his father and yours. They’re already immersed in what sounds like a pointless conversation over Prythian’s economy. Knowing that you and Sawyer will be following shortly, hand in hand, he yanks the bottle of wine from Oliver’s grasp. The heated glare he receives is instant but he couldn’t care any less as he fills his glass to the brim, wishing it was something stronger.

“There’s my blooming flower,” he hears your father happily greet as you grace them with your presence.

“The prettiest flower,” Sawyer remarks in a tone as smooth and soft as velvet. His younger brothers snicker, clearly amused with the drastic change in Sawyer’s attitude toward you.

Eris, however, does not find it amusing.

The grip on his glass tightens so harshly that his mother spares him a glance. She gives him a discreet kick under the table, silently urging him to relax. While his grip on his wine glass loosens, the tension in his jaw doesn’t. He remains quiet during dinner, chiming in only enough to not raise suspicion. He doesn’t dare to sneak a glance at you. Nor at Sawyer. Not even to glare daggers at him for every sweet word he speaks your way.

He knows it’s all an act but the thought does nothing to soothe him. Not when he heard you begging Sawyer to act like he likes you, to hold your hand, to say sweet nothings to you. To do all the things Eris is desperately yearning to do.

The Cauldron was cruel.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well here,” your father says as you walk arm in arm. “A flower like you needs the right soil to flourish.”

After dinner, the two of you had taken a stroll through the gardens, catching up with one another. He told you all about his recent business adventures, gloating over how the deals coming his way were endless as the word of your family name mixed with the Vanserras spread throughout Prythian. It was when the autumn winds began to pick up and grew too cold for your liking that you made your way back in the forest house and toward your room.

“Do you really have to leave so soon?” You ask, a frown settling over your brows. Please stay, you want to add.

“I’m afraid so. I have a meeting with a potential business partner in Hewn City so I’ll have to leave early tomorrow to prepare,” your father replies in an apologetic tone. “I’ll try to make it in time for your next dress fitting.”

“Okay,” you respond, forcing another smile to your face. You hope your father can’t see right through it. “I’ll wake up early tomorrow to bid you farewell.”

“Lovely,” Your father says, the two of you coming to a stop near your door, where an Autumn guard is stationed right in front. With a nod of his head, the guard steps aside, allowing you access to your room. “Sleep well, okay?”

You lean your back against the door in contemplation. There’s so much you want to say. You want to tell him the truth. To ask him to call off the wedding. To have him take you with him, even if its to Hewn City.

Perhaps, if it were your mother standing before you, you would’ve confessed it all. She was always willing to listen. Your father…not so much. Given the way he was already bragging about the benefits from your arranged marriage, you worried it’d only be a waste of your breath. You also feared burdening him further, knowing he already had a lot on his plate.

You worry your father senses your inner turmoil when he reaches out a hand, lifting your chin. He smiles at you, his eyes seemingly capturing every detail of your presence. Almost like he’s etching it into his memory forever. “You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more in a daughter. Your mother would be proud too.”

There’s a pang in your chest and your smile falters. Something tells you, you wouldn’t be marrying Sawyer if she were alive. Unlike your father, she would see right through you and find a way out for you. But you can’t blame your father, either. Your mother’s last wish was to see you married and happy. Your father only wishes to honor it.

So instead of voicing your worries, you nod. “Goodnight, father.”

When you enter your room, you swear your heart skips a beat. Eris stands tall by your window, his red hair glowing like strands of molten copper under the pale moonlight. His gaze is fixed on the rustle of the leaves from the cool breeze, the shadows dancing across his delicate features. He looks ethereal just standing there.

“Your view is better than mine.”

You’re quick to shut the door behind you. “Lord Eris.”

Eris lets out a snort at your formality. He turns to face you with a small smile. “Just Eris,” he reminds softly as you approach him.

“Sorry, it’s a habit now,” you reply in a sheepish manner. You walk further into your room, joining him at his side. “What are you doing here? You didn’t leave a note this time.”

“I finally finished it.” Eris says as he reveals what he’s holding in his hands. Your book.

“You did?” Your eyes widen as you take it back from him.

The spine is gently bowed from decades of being held dear but you notice that the pages that were teetering away from the spine have been carefully attached back. What catches your eyes most, however, is the golden thread dangling from the midst of the pages. Your fingers toy with the autumn leaf charms that hang from it. Opening the book, you realize the string is attached to a bookmark. It’s placed exactly where you had last creased the page you had been on.

“I can’t believe you dog ear your pages, angel.”

Eris’s nose crinkles in disgust yet there’s an amused gleam in his eyes that has a laugh bubbling in your chest. “You say it like it’s a crime.”

“Because it is,” he insists with an incredulous furrow of his brow.

“Did you like it?”

“Like?” He laughs and you feel a flutter of uncertainty course through you. “I loved it,” he admits, soothing the flutter but then adds: “But I hated the ending.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoes, his tone mirroring the playful glint dancing in his eyes.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment and you remind yourself to breathe properly. “Do you want to talk about it?” You offer tentatively, your heart racing with anticipation.

Eris grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Sitting on the window seat, he adjusts his body so that his back leans against the window. He carefully angles his legs, giving you space to sit too. You settle across from, hugging your knees to your chest.

“Start from the beginning.”

And so Eris does, pouring out his every thought.

He tells you how he enjoyed the author’s world building of the human world, though he knows in reality, it’s actually very boring. You attempt to defend the mortals but Eris dismisses it, claiming he knows their world is dull based on a human he knows. He then tells you how the slow burn romance between the two protagonists nearly drove him insane. That he’d never been more happy to read about two characters holding hands.

“And don’t even get me started on the intimate scenes between those two. It went on in extravagant details for pages and pages,” he says with an amused exhalation. “How something so vulgar can be written so beautifully is beyond me!”

You can’t help but laugh at that, despite the heat rising to your cheeks. Eris continues with his passionate rant and you drink every single word. At some points, he pauses, asking for your interpretations of certain scenes, bringing forth small arguments and laughter.

"I just can't get over that ending," Eris remarks with a sigh, his brow furrowing in frustration. "It's just so... sad. Disappointing, almost. After all that trouble the hero went to save her only for her to still die at the end...”

"But isn't there a certain beauty in tragedy?" you counter softly. "The way it makes you feel, the emotions it evokes. The angst. Because as you read, you slowly begin to realize that it was not her who needed saving but him.”

Eris tilts his head, contemplating your words for a moment. Of course, you would see the beauty in the ending. His lips curve into a pout. He needs to protect you at all costs. He doesn’t want you to end up like him, spirit crushed by the cruel confinements of this court and forced to wear a mask at all times.

"I suppose I just prefer stories with happy endings. Life's already filled with enough sadness, isn't it?"

“It is,” you murmur, gaze softening with empathy. Then, your eyes are lighting up as a thought crosses your mind and you’re smiling at him. “Who would’ve thought Eris Vanserra, the heir to the Autumn Court, is a hopeless romantic with a soft spot for happy endings.”

The smile that breaks out brightens his entire expression and he lets out a chuckle, sending a warm flutter through your chest. He leans in closer, his amber eyes alight with an intensity that mirrors the flickering flames of the hearth in your room.

“And who would’ve thought a saint like you has the mind of a sinner.”

“Hey!” You gasp and give a playful kick to his thigh.

Eris laughs, body relaxing as he slumps against the window for support. He’s lost count of the amount of times you two have laughed tonight but he knows it’s more than he ever has before. When you shift to give another kick, his hand grasps at your ankles. He raises a brow at you in challenge, almost daring you to try again.

“You said and I quote ‘something so vulgar can be written so beautifully,’ meaning that you enjoyed them too.”

“I did,” Eris agrees, lips curling into a smirk as he lifts his gaze. His fingers mindlessly dance across your exposed leg, sending a delightful shiver through you. “But I am no saint.”

It’s when he feels your leg twitch that he realizes what he’d been doing. He stands abruptly and lowers his head. He fears he’s getting too comfortable around you. “I sh–”

Standing from the window seat, your hand grasps for his, stopping him. “Since you read one of my favorites, it’s only fair that I read one of yours.”

Eris's eyes widen in surprise and he turns back to look at you. No one has ever asked him about his favorite book. He read yours because he wanted to, curious to learn more about you through it. He didn’t expect you to return the gesture.

"Deal.”

The word escapes him with such ease it scares him but it’s short lived as he’s overcome with excitement. His passion for reading had always been a solitary pursuit. It was something he never really shared with others, but he wants to with you.

“I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you respond happily.

“But,” he begins, not allowing you to let go of his hand, his thumb brushes against the back of it. “You’re not allowed to dog ear my pages.”

“I’ll also need a book in return. It’s only fair,” he adds, mimicking your tone from earlier. His mind then drifts to thoughts of the both of you, curled up against one another with a book in your laps. Or maybe, you’d read to him while he holds you close, his head resting atop your shoulder and–

“Of course,” you reply, pulling him from his fantasies and toward the other side of your room, where many books were neatly lined atop a shelf. “I couldn’t bring all my books but I brought all my absolute favorites!"

Eris watches as you hum in contemplation. His attention is drawn to the way you tap a finger against your lips. He remembers the way they felt against his cheek. Lovely and sweet. Like your heart. He’s dying to know what they’d feel like against his lips…

He knows you’ve finally decided on a book when your other hand frees itself from his hold to reach out for it. You carefully slide it off the shelf and then turn around, presenting it to him. “You’ll love this one,” you tell him and you’re so confident it has his lips twitching upwards for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “It has a happy ending."

"I think I...," his voice wavers with a delicate tremor. He looks away, his cheeks tinged with a delicate blush over the words he couldn't bring himself to articulate. "You're good to me," he murmurs instead, taking the book from you.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Your words coax his gaze back to yours and the sincerity he finds in your eyes is one that’s never been directed at him before. It stirs a desire in him that he never even knew he was searching for.

The fire in his veins burns brighter. The bond in his chest sings louder. He allows it to pull him closer to you. You're also leaning in until the book in his hand is the only barrier between your bodies.

There's nothing else to interrupt this moment between you both. No bells chiming like that day in the fountains. No cloak to trip over or lanterns like that night he snuck you out. It's just you two, in the stillness of the night, where the only sounds are your breaths and the crackle of the hearth nearby.

His movements are slow, giving you the chance to pull away at any moment. You don't. He watches your every shift in expression as his free hand tilts your chin up towards him. Your eyes flutter shut in anticipation.

And then he's kissing you.

Softly and delicately like a butterfly's wings. Your lips are warm and perfect against his, your taste sweet and intoxicating. Even better than he could ever imagine.

Your hands travel up his neck and thread themselves through his hair, pressing his lips harsher against yours. Heat courses through him as you kiss him back. You're like a wildfire, burning away all memories of past lovers and leaving only the embers of your essence to light his way.

When he pulls away, a shared breathlessness lingers between you. As he looks into your eyes, it's like the world has somehow shifted. All at once, everything is different. He longs for the night he'll be able to hold you tight and let the blinding light you bring consume him fully.

For now, he leans his forehead against yours, breathing you in and taking in the soft smile on your face that mirrors his own.

But the very next morning, he's harshly reminded that though he's had a taste, your radiance remains beyond his grasp. He fears it will forever, like a forbidden flame that flickers just out of reach.

"Who does he think he is, making demands of me?" Beron seethes, his voice laced with frustration, as he paces back and forth in his study. “I’ve graciously taken in his daughter. I’ve even granted him half of his money upfront. And yet where is my promise?”

Eris, standing nearby, observes with cautious eyes, gauging the storm brewing within his father. He knew it was going to be a bad day the moment he woke up from a nightmare. A nightmare whose cruel grip he still cannot shake off…because for the first time, you were in it.

He prays his father can’t hear the rapid beating of his heart as he says, “Cancel the deal. Call off the wedding with Sawyer...”

And wed her to me, he wishes to add but the words stick in his throat. The painful truth lingers deep in his chest, nestled next to the strings of fate that bind him to you. It’s best if you leave this court and go somewhere far.

Far away where happiness might embrace you. Far away from the cruel clutches of his father’s power and even your own. Far away where you may free him of this torment…but the more time he spends with you, the more precarious the thread his honor hangs on becomes.

He fears that nowhere would be far enough now.

“Call off the wedding?” Beron laughs in an incredulous manner. The gold and crimson tapestries adorning the walls seem to shiver in response to his father’s simmering frustration. When Beron abruptly turns to face Eris, the younger male can’t help but flinch. “When you were the one who suggested this arrangement to begin with.”

Eris’s throat tightens. He had been the one to suggest this arranged marriage.

Your father, a respected merchant, extended an offer to Beron – an offer that, even now, Eris grapples to comprehend fully. It was a proposal that was lured with promises of enhanced power for the High Lord of Autumn in exchange for wealth and elevated status through matrimonial ties.

With no available Vanserra daughters to marry your father to and Sawyer's nightly endeavors tarnishing the family name, it led Eris to suggest an arranged marriage between you and Sawyer. A futile attempt to protect his younger brother from a fate similar to Lucien’s…but at what cost?

The Cauldron must be bubbling with amusement at the irony of it all. For, unknowingly, Eris orchestrated the union between you, his mate, and his brother. This is all his doing. All his fault.

Eris wills himself to maintain an outward appearance of calm. “What’s so important about this exchange anyway?” He asks with a measured voice.

“Jareth has access to something precious,” Beron responds, his words chosen with deliberate care. "Something that may hold the key to immortality."

Eris's eyebrows furrow in contemplation, his mind racing to grasp at what special thing your father could be harboring. "What if he is bluffing?"

Beron's eyes darken, sending a shiver down Eris's spine. His heart sinks to his stomach as he can already anticipate what his father is going to say.

“I’ll kill his precious daughter. Then, I’ll kill him.”

If your father keeps his end of the bargain, you’ll marry Sawyer. Doomed to a life of misery, where danger lurks at every corner. If your father doesn’t keep his end of the bargain, you’ll be the one to face the consequences of his father's wrath.

And you're in this situation because of him. The bond in his chest tightens, the golden strings pulling taut with a piercing resonance. No, no, no. Panic seeps in with an agonizing intensity. The mere thought of any harm coming to you, especially because of his actions, sickens him to his stomach.

He can’t allow that to happen. He won't allow it to happen.

“That won’t be necessary,” Eris says, carrying the weight of centuries of practiced composure. “I’ll ensure Jareth keeps his end of the bargain.”

“As expected,” Beron replies in a pleased tone. “I’m counting on you.”

Eris manages a nod, silently excusing himself. He’s never been more desperate to leave his father’s study. He feels his hands begin to shake and he shoves them into his pockets, not wanting to allow anyone a glimpse of the turmoil raging inside.

It's only when he's in the comfort of his room that he allows his facade to crumble. Leaning heavily against the door, he slowly sinks to the floor. His hounds are immediately rushing to his side, noses brushing softly against his arms.

"I made a terrible mistake," he tells them quietly and a low whine comes from one of them in protest. Then, with a strong determination, he says, "but I'm going to fix it."

"I swear it," he promises, rising to his feet, his hounds following after him as he makes his way further into his room.

You're not going to marry Sawyer and you're not going to be the one to pay the consequences of your father's actions, should he betray them. No. Eris will make sure of that. He's running out of time but he's going to find a way to get you out of this mess. He knows he can.

Eris realizes then he'd do anything to keep you safe, even if it means losing everything. Because if there's one thing he can't lose, it's you.

a/n: and here comes the angst train. I hope you enjoyed Eris and reader talking about her favorite book as much as I enjoyed writing it ♡

tagging: @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @fxckmiup @stormhearty @skyesayshi @sfhsgrad-blog @crazylokonugget @evergreenlark @secretlyhers @mybestfriendmademe @ib525, @96jnie, @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria, @glitterypirateduck @thatsassyhufflepuff @acourtofbatboydreams, @mal-adaptive-dreams

#eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris angst #eris vanserra angst #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar angst #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #eris angel au #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra fanfic #eris acotar #Eris vanserra

372 notes · View notes

makeitmingi · 9 days

Text

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 45]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 4.2K

You hummed to yourself as you walked on the streets, after your psychologist appointment. There was a lot to unpack, especially trying to navigate how you feel after cutting ties with your fahter, so you always liked to take a walk on your own.

'SHELTER DRIVE'

A crowd and big sign caught you attention as you passed by the park. You saw a big fenced pen set up with dogs jumping around, barking while people looked at them.

"Hello, miss. Are you interested in getting a dog?" A young guy came up to you, a little too enthusiastically.

"I don't support pet shops..." You cleared your throat.

"Oh, that's great to hear actually! We're actually not a shop, we run a local shelter and to prevent overcrowding, we do events like these to get our eligible dogs out there. " He explained.

"I see." You nodded your head slowly. Yunho had recently been watching puppy videos, it's his new obsession.

"D-Do you have golden retrievers?" You asked. He nodded, leading you over to the pen where there were adult, teens and puppies, all golden retrievers. When you bent down, some of them stood on their hind legs, curiously trying to sniff you. They barked enthusiastically, spinning in circles.

"Golden retrievers are very popular. We just got a litter surrendered to us, that's why we have a lot of puppies." The guy explained. You nodded, scanning all of them.

"If you'd like to meet any of them, let me know and I'll get them out for you." He continued.

Then you saw her. She was sitting slightly behind the rambunctious group, an enthusiastic smile on her face, staring at you with puppy eyes.

"Her." You pointed, melting slightly. The worker went in to pick her up and she immediately tried to climb into your arms. The puppy put her arms around you, her tail wagging happily.

"Hello there, precious." You whispered. She let out a yelping bark and licked your cheek, rubbing her head against your skin.

Just like what Yunho does.

"It's like matchmade in heaven." The worker smiled. You couldn't help but agree with him. Even though she was enthusiastic, you knew Whiskey would warm up to her soon. Like how you warmed up to Yunho's enthusiasm.

"Where do I sign the papers?" You asked, keeping her in your arms. After signing the papers and paying the small fee for the microchipping and vaccinations, you took your puppy home.

"Whiskey, I'm home~" You called out to your cat. Whiskey loved you but like you, he wasn't very enthusiastic.

"I got you a friend. Be nice to her." You said to the cat who jumped down from the cat tree.

"Hold on." You held the puppy and sat down. Whiskey leaned forward to sniff the puppy and the puppy did the same, a little more happily of course. Whiskey leaned back, casting you a look.

"What? You'll love her, soon enough." You raised an eyebrow, knowing Whiskey was questioning your decision at this point.

*meow*

With that comment, Whiskey turned around and walked away, climbing up his cat tree, which was able to put him far away from the excited puppy. The puppy whimpered and looked back up at you, almost showing her disappointment in Whiskey not wanting to play with her.

"Don't worry about Whiskey, hmm? He's just unfriendly." You scolded. The only golden retriever Whiskey has grown close to was Yunho. They're almost inseparable now.

"(y/n), are you home?" Speaking of the devil. Yunho's voice was heard from the doorway.

"I'm her- What's that?" Your tall boyfriend stopped in his tracks, seeing the golden ball of fur run around the place.

"This is our new daughter. I got her for you or us." You chuckled, seeing the puppy run to Yunho and jump around his feet, sniffing him curiously. Yunho bent down, fingers stroking the pup's head.

"Wait, why?"

"You've been watching those puppy videos a lot recently. Plus there was a shelter adoption thing I went past." You explained.

"I see." Yunho chuckled. He came over to you, bending down to kiss you on the head before sitting beside you. The puppy clumsily ran over to play with Yunho. She climbed into Yunho's lap, hoisting her front paws on his thigh.

"And doesn't she remind you of someone?" You teased. Yunho rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the puppy. The puppy jumped out from Yunho's lap and came to you.

"And Whiskey's okay with this?" Yunho raised an eyebrow. You shrugged, pointing to the cat tree.

"Aww, Whiskey. Your mum brought an intruder to your house?" Yunho went over, cooing at Whiskey, who meowed in response.

"Grow up, you two." You scoffed. Yunho scratched Whiskey's chin and he ate it up, rubbing his head affectionately against Yunho's knuckle, licking his finger.

"We need to name her and pick up puppy supplies." You said to Yunho.

"What did you have in mind?" Yunho asked.

"You should name her. I named Whiskey, it's only right that as a felow golden retriever and president of the puppies, you name her." You fell backwards, laughing and holding your stomach. Yunho sent you the dirtiest look ever. The puppy excitedly came over to sniff your face and lick your cheek.

Of course you knew when's Yunho's birthday. But when you found out from Mingi that Yunho's birthday is actually international puppy day too, you ate that up. Yunho has never hated his best friend more.

"Oh, you think that's funny? Huh?!" Yunho came over to tickle your sides, making you squeal. The puppy only grew more excited.

"Yunho! Stop!" You said between laughs.

"I know... What about Willow?" Yunho stopped tickling you, sitting back on his heels as he suggested. You laid on the ground, trying to catch your breath.

"That's so cute. Whiskey and Willow." You smiled. Yunho nodded, reaching over to wrap an arm around you.

"When do you start work?" Yunho asked.

"Next Friday." You replied, leaning against him. He hummed and kissed the top of your head.

During the last dinner of the vacation...

"Excuse me. Just let me take this." You stood up to answer your ringing phone, walking away. Yunho cast you a puzzled and slightly worried glance, he could hear you greet the person on the other end in your 'professional' voice.

"Hello, is this Miss (y/n) (y/l/n)?" The person on the other line asked.

"Yes, speaking?" You replied, leaning against the counter top.

"Good evening, Miss. I am representing the talent acquisition team at Anne Sophie Pic's group of restaurants. Is this a convenient time for you to talk?" He asked. Your eyes widened.

"Wow... Anne Sophie Pic? Yeah, of course. What can I do for you?" You tried your best to hide your surprise.

Anne Sophie Pic is a decorated chef in the world. She was famous and one of the top 3 female chefs of the current culinary industry.

"With the closure of our Singapore restaurant, we are going to open a branch in South Korea to maintain our presence in Asia. So we were wondering if you would be interested in working with us."

"Me? Really?" You couldn't even contain your shock.

"Yes, really. We are aware you have a team of 3 other chefs with you. If you and your team are interested, we would like you to head our team during the weekends. From Friday to Sunday, where we are at our busiest. As weekdays will be less crowded, we will not need the extra hands then." He explained.

"I understand, that actually works out for us. Thank you so much for this opportunity. Let me discuss with me team and I will get back to you as soon as I can." You said.

"Of course, I look forward to hearing from you soon. Hopefully with good news. Have a nice evening." He wished.

"You too." You replied and hung up. Seonghwa stood his feet, coming over to you. You threw your arms around his neck, making you him stumble back.

"Hwa..."

"What happened?" He asked.

"I-I... That call... We've been asked to work at Anne Sophie Pic's upcoming restaurant... They're opening a La Dame in Seoul and need chefs for the weekend." You looked at him.

"Wait, all of us?! Working at La Dame?!" Wooyoung and Jongho stood up, making their way over to you and Seonghwa. You nodded your head in confirmation, throwing your arms around them to hug them too. The others at the table was confused.

"What's going on?" Yunho asked.

"Anne Sophie Pic is this really great, famous chef. Fancy French restaurant and they just asked us to be in their weekend crew." You informed with a big smile.

"That's amazing! Congratulations." The boys all stood up and exchanged hugs. Yunho hugged you last, kissing your head.

"I knew others would see how amazing you are." He whispered, smiling down at you.

"Thank you. I can barely believe it myself. But it's also good news for your restaurant, Yun." You said, holding his arms. Yunho tilted his head in confusion.

"Being part of the weekend crew, we'll only be at La Dame from Friday to Sunday. That frees up Monday to Wednesday for us to work as usual at the restaurant." Jongho explained. You, Seonghwa and Wooyoung nodded. Yunho's eyes widened, he didn't even seem to realise it until Jongho mentioned it.

"So that means you all can still work at the restaurant?" He asked. You nodded again and everyone cheered, Yunho lifting you up.

"We'll find people to work the weekend when we're not around." Seonghwa said.

"That's great. See? I told you it'll work out, love." Yunho tucked your hair behind your ear, leaning in to give you a kiss.

"Let's get some drinks to celebrate!" Hongjoong declared, making you groan. Looks like it would be another night of you taking care of the 8 drunk babies.

The moment all of you got home, the 4 of you found some friends to help cover the weekends when your crew was not around. Opening night at La Dame Du Pic was next week and you've been ecstatic, especially since Anne Sophie was flying in to open it..

"Ah! Willow!" Yunho's exclaimation pulled you out of your flashback. He quickly got some paper towels to wipe up where Willow had peed on your floor.

"We should get some puppy things. I don't think Whiskey will appreciate Willow invading his space." You giggled.

"You already invaded his space by bringing her home." Yunho pointed out.

"But who can say no to this face?" You cooed, lifting Willow up. Yunho threw his head back in laughter. It was funny that he was 'siding' with Whiskey while you 'sided' with Willow.

"Ah okay." You let Willow go as she squirmed in your arms. She ran to Yunho, who ran and let the puppy chase after her.

"That's more like it." You leaned back on the couch. Whiskey came over and curled up in your lap, resting his head on his front paws.

"They can wear each other out." You chuckled as you stroked Whiskey's fur, making him purr in contentment. Yunho's laughs and Willow's puppy barks were heard throughout the apartment as the two golden retrievers ran around. The two black cats just sat on the couch, watching them.

"Oh, love. You went for your appointment, how was it?" Yunho came and sat by your side, remembering why he came over in the first place. You nodded with a hum.

"Come here." He hugged you, moving your body so it laid over his own. He stroked your head as he held you.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked.

"I don't even know what to talk about. I barely know what to feel after everything that happened with my dad..." You sighed, burying your face in his chest.

"It's okay. It's a big thing, it'll take time to mentally come to terms with it." He patted your head.

"You're just like Whiskey when you lay on me like this. It's cute." He chuckled. You pinched his side, making him howl in pain.

"Oh, we should go get stuff for Willow before going to Hwa's place." You got up. Tonight, Seonghwa invited everyone over to his parents' house for dinner in the backyard. More like, his parents invited everyone over to celebrate the new job at La Dame Du Pic.

"Are we bringing her?" Yunho asked.

"Yeah, we should? Dinner will be in the backyard so it'll be fine to let her run around. Plus, I don't trust her to not annoyed Whiskey while we're not around." You said, going to the room to change.

"Right." Yunho got up too. Yunho kept his house since the others boys went over to game from time to time. But he mostly stayed at yours.

"I got the wine to give to Hwa's parents and- What are you doing?" You asked, seeing Yunho cradle Whiskey.

"I'm saying goodbye to Whiskey. He may feel left out, you know?" He reminded, swinging Whiskey from side to side like a baby. You raised an eyebrow.

"If that's what you think, Yun. I bet Whiskey loves having the house to himself." You chuckled and went to find Whiskey's old crate.

"Willow." You called after putting a small blanket inside. Willow tilted her head and stared at you. You held her and put her in the crate, closing the gate. She settled in surprisingly quietly, probably feeling tired from all the running around. You filled Whiskey's food bowl and water before going to him.

"I'll see you later, baby." You kissed his head, scratching his ear, and he licked your finger.

"Come on, love." Yunho held his hand out to you, his other hand holding the crate with Willow. You slipped your hand into his and headed out the door with him.

"She's so cute when she's sleeping." Yunho cooed, lifting the crate to take a good look at the sleeping puppy.

"You hold her, I'll drive." You said.

"Yay, passenger princess." Yunho cheered. Just as he was going to put the crate in the back, Willow woke up momentarily, whimpering and pawing at the gate.

"Alright, alright. You can sit with me." Yunho said and let Willow sit in his lap, in the blanket.

"Look at you warming up to her." You laughed. You stopped outside the pet store and grabbed a cart, walking ahead while Yunho was supposed to be trailing behind you. But you guessed he wasn't because he suddenly ran up to you with Willow in his arms.

"(y/n) don't leave me alone again. These women keep staring at me... It's scary." He whimpered, practically gluing himself to your side.

"You're a good looking with your tall, prince-like self and carrying a puppy. People probably fantasize about 'ideal' boyfriends and see you." You pointed, poking his chest.

"Okay, firstly, I like that you call me good looking and all the other stuff. And secondly, how is that my fault?" He whined.

"Consequences of being handsome. Welcome to the real world, buddy." You patted his arm.

"This should fit." You grabbed the puppy harness.

"Can you not ignore how I am feeling victimised and objectified right now?" Yunho pouted. It was hard to take him seriously with Willow in his arms and him being all childishly whiny.

"What do you want me to do, Yun? There's no way I can make you un-handsome." You shrugged.

"Give me a kiss. Stake your claim." He demanded. You raised an eyebrow at his demand, leaning your head back as you shot him a weirded out look. But Yunho wasn't going to take no for an answer so he used his free hand, grabbed your chin to bring you close and pressed his lips against yours.

"Ah, enough. I think they get the message." You chuckled when you pulled away, reaching up to wipe the lip gloss that smeared on the corner of his lip.

"Kisses for you too, Willow." You smiled and kissed her head. She licked your cheek, the ticklish feeling making you laugh.

"You give kisses to Willow and Whiskey so generously. I call favouritism." Yunho said.

"You shouldn't be jealous of our kids." You chided and picked up a bag of dog food. Even if you said that casually, Yunho's cheeks grew red when you said 'our kids'. The prospect of it made him flustered.

"Here. Let me." Yunho passed Willow to you and picked up the heavy tray of food.

After getting some other essentials and a dog bed, you and Yunho headed for the checkout. Seeing the girl smile sweetly at him, Yunho grasped your hand.

"Do you want me to hold Willow, love?" Yunho smiled at you, emphasizing the pet name.

"I'm good, Yun. Thanks." You kissed his cheek. Fine, if it makes him feel better, you'll play along. Yunho had a smug smile as he paid for the items. For you, it was amusing seeing the cashier's face fall at Yunho's very obvious display of love and affection for you.

"Let's go." His eyes were only on you. You nodded and walked out with him. He put all the items in the back and sat in the passenger seat again. You placed Willow on his lap.

"Sure you don't want me to drive? I don't mind while you hold Willow." He asked.

"I'm good. Plus, the Park's doorman recognises me." You said. Yunho's eyes widened as the mention of a doorman.

"How rich is Seonghwa hyung's family that he has a doorman?"

"Uh, rich? I don't know." You shrugged. It was odd to drive to that area, considering your father's house was only two doors down from where Seonghwa's was.

"Woah... That house is huge! Is that Seonghwa hyung's house?" Yunho asked in disbelief, nearly pressed up against the window.

"No... That's actually my house. Or the house I grew up in." You cleared your throat.

"Oh, wow." Yunho didn't know whether to react in awe or disgust. He was truly amazed at the size of the house, an indication of how you grew up. But then he remembers how you told him you were always forced to go for dinner parties and events so he already sort of knew that your family was wealthy.

"You don't have to react negatively, Yun. It's just a house. I won't be mad." You chuckled, already knowing him well enough to know his internal conflict. Yunho was always so thoughtful.

"Shall we go to Seonghwa's place now?" He turned to you. You nodded and began to drive.

"Mr Kim! It's me!" You rolled down the window and waved to the camera. The gate opened, the doorman recognising you.

"Wow. This house is huge too." Yunho said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. You nodded and got out of car, running up to a couple who was at the front doorstep. Yunho watched you hug them both.

"And they didn't even come out to greet me." Seonghwa came out with his arms crossed.

"Be jealous." You stuck your tongue out, happily hugging Seonghwa's parents. They were practically your parents too.

"This is my boyfriend, Yunho. Yun, this is Mr and Mrs Park." You stepped aside to introduce, taking Willow into your arms so he could shake hands with them. While they exchanged greetings, Seonghwa came to you.

"Who is this? Since when did you get a dog?" He asked, letting Willow sniff his hand.

"New daughter. Just got her today. Say hi to Uncle Hwa, Willow." You said, as if she was really a child that could talk. You lifted her arm to flap her paw at Seonghwa.

"Whiskey must not be impressed with you right now." Seonghwa raised his eyebrows, shaking his head.

"Whiskey is never impressed with anyone except Yunho. But I couldn't resist, she reminded me of Yunho." You rolled your eyes.

"Well, the universe works in mysterious ways." Seonghwa said. You tilted your head, confused by his sudden statement but he just laughed and walked into the house.

"Come in!" Mrs Park ushered all of you in. Mr Park walked with you. Yunho watched as you greeted all the staff with familiarity.

"Mr Kim! I missed you." You hugged the older gentleman in a suit.

"She's the only one that would greet the staff and thank them. Most people don't even bother to acknowledge the staff." Mrs Park smiled, turning to Yunho. Yunho nodded his head with an affectionate smile as he watched you. He was about to go up to you but Mr Park stood in the way and cleared his throat, staring Yunho up and down.

"Appa, stop being so protective of her. He's her boyfriend." Seonghwa scolded, holding Willow in his arms. Mr Park ignored his son, leading you out to the back, alone. And away from Yunho.

"Ignore him. She's the closest thing to a daughter that he has so he's overprotective." Seonghwa said.

"Understandable. They should catch up with one another." Yunho chuckled. The two went out to where the others were chilling.

"Who is this?!" Wooyoung squealed, seeing Willow.

"Her name is Willow. (y/n) saw her at some shelter adoption this morning and brought her home." Yunho explained. Yeosang grinned and stroked Willow's head.

"I'll let her down to run if that's okay? We have a fence around the backyard anyway." Seonghwa asked. Yunho nodded in approval.

"We'll bring the food out soon. Grab a plate and help yourselves." Mrs Park said to everyone. Yunho saw you sitting with Mr Park, a little separated from the group, the two of you talking about something. He gave the two of you privacy.

"Hey." You came back over. Yunho wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. You watched the boys all play with Willow, cooing at how cute she was.

"Come here." Jongho squeaked one of the puppy toys that Yunho took out from the car.

"Everything okay?" Yunho asked, kissing the top of your head.

"Mhmm." You hummed, not offering any details about what you talked about. Yunho wouldn't push. He just rubbed your back.

"Food's here!" Hongjoong called the two of you. You went to the table to see the spread that Seonghwa's parents got the chef to prepare. There was so much food.

"Isn't it funny that the black cat and golden retriever couple adopted a black cat and a golden retriever? Plus, (y/n) gets along with Willow more while Yunho gets along with Whiskey." San chuckled.

"That's why I said, the universe works in mysterious ways." Seonghwa nodded in agreement.

"We can hear you, you know?" You raised an eyebrow while Yunho sighed and shook his head. You and Yunho have just learnt to accept the others calling your relationship with Yunho the 'black cat and golden retriever' dynamic.

"It's cute. It's like fate giving you the animal versions of yourselves to take care of. The two of them will get along just fine." Yeosang pointed out, making everyone laugh.

"I only believe that because of the way Willow and Yunho were happily chasing each other around earlier." You laughed.

"Yeah, like how you and Whiskey lounged on the couch and just watched." Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Grab a champagne flute everyone. We would like to make a toast before we eat." Mr and Mrs Park gestured. You stood with Yunho, arms around each other.

"Ah, omma... appa..." Seonghwa facepalmed in embarrassment but Mrs Park shushed him.

"Seonghwa hyung's parents make good toasts. Take note, Yunho hyung." Jongho teased. Mingi, who overheard, snickered at his best friend while Yunho threatened to kick Jongho.

"Thank you all for coming today, it's a pleasure to meet all of you. I know you're all under the impression we wanted to do this to celebrate (y/n), Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho receiving the job offer to work at La Dame Du Pic. Yes, congrats to them, we're proud of all 4 of you." Mr Park smiled.

"Aww, thank you." The 4 of you smiled.

"But it's also to congratulate and celebrate the rest of you too." Mrs Park added, making the others look at each other in confusion.

"Hongjoong, for receiving new projects for your custom fashion pieces. San and Yeosang, for being offered trainer roles at the gym." Mr Park spoke.

"Mingi, for being a great friend and supporting Yunho even before the restaurant opened. As well as all your efforts towards the restaurant to keep it going." Mrs Park smiled.

"And last but not least, Yunho. You're the reason this family was brought together in the first place." She turned to the tall male.

"Yes, we are a family. And always will be." San agreed.

"You've all done great work, together and on your own. We wish all of you nothing but continued success." They said.

"Cheers to all of us!" All of you raised your glasses. You looked up at Yunho, who looked down to meet your eyes. Yunho wiped the stray tear that slipped down your cheek.

"I love you." You smiled tearfully at Yunho. You wouldn't ask for anything more. Each of the 8 boys with you, especially with Seonghwa being on one side and Yunho being on the other, Whiskey and the newest edition to your family, Willow.

"I love you too. Forever." Yunho smiled softly, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

Series masterlist

118 notes · View notes

pineapplequencher · 5 months

Text

five stars ੈ✩‧₊˚

wherein surfer portgas d. ace tries his hand at snowboarding. he fails, but he's pretty sure he's met the love of his life.

surfer!ace, snowboarder!mc, afab reader, unedited, sfw, 3.6k words

tw: blood mention

a/n: this is my entrance exam into floptropica university (i also suck and snowboarding and avoid it. im a surfing girl. sorry if i got osmething wrong)

Should be easy enough, Ace thinks. I surf, so this’ll probably be easy. Besides, what’s the difference between snowboarding and surfing? He’s totally gonna shred regardless.

But the gear is heavy, and the boots are clunky, and the helmet looks ridiculous. He’s used to the autonomy of having no shirt on, with sun on his back and wind through his hair. The air here is frosty and unkind, the sun is hidden behind a blanket of clouds, and the other people in the gondola line look mean.

As he approaches the gondola to take him up the mountain, a worker with green hair and goggles barks at someone else before he turns to Ace. Ace hefts the heavy board under his arm and gives the worker a cheeky grin. “Hey.”

The worker’s name tag sports chipped letters—Zoro—and the worker himself gives Ace a tight line of a smile.

“Hey, uh, after I get on this thing”—Ace motions to the swinging carriages supported by the lines that stretch to the high, white peak—“which way do I go to get to the bunny hill?” Zoro’s lips twitch, as if in an effort to hold back a laugh. Ace, a bit insecure now, adds, “My brothers went up before me, and I’m new to the area.”

Zoro glances at the mountain, then back to Ace. He checks his clipboard and readjusts the goggles over his eyes. Ace is sure those aren’t prescription-based, but Zoro’s voice is confident. “Sounds like you’re headed for Drum Island Hill. I think you take a right, and then a left. Should be right there.”

“Thanks, man,” Ace replies coolly.

“Yeah,” Zoro says. He turns back to his busywork. “You should probably strap a boot in before you go up. Okay, stand there, and the ski lift will take you up.”

Ace does so and waddles to the area. He flops his bulky body on the bench. This is his first time doing a winter sport, and he didn’t want to pay the hefty fee of lessons. The ski lift gains traction and lifts him into the air.

When he reaches the top, he stumbles off the bench. He’s not used to his foot directly strapped onto his board. It gives him no leeway. He balances poorly and dismisses the worker that’s about to help him.

“I got it,” Ace says. “I’m good.”

Now, what did that guy below say? Ace peeks down the mountain. This is way higher than he thought. This is where the bunny hill is, right? He looked online at the review, and it said that this place is good for beginners. He’s starting to doubt the Internet’s honesty.

Ace traverses across the hard, thick snow. He sludges his strapped boot behind him, copying the fellow snowboarders, and takes his steps with utmost carefulness. A right and a left. Should be easy enough, Ace consoles himself again.

Having another board strapped to his foot feels like cheating on his surfboard at home, though.

After he drags his body to the right, he makes his way past a few wooden cabins with skis perched outside. He must be headed the right direction. A few skiers chat and laugh as they leave the cabin, Modelos in hand. Ace doesn’t feel that safe here anymore, but he has to meet Luffy and Sabo. And master this craft. He paid good money to rent the snowboard and gear. Can’t let it go to waste.

Once Ace reaches a thick collective of white-tipped evergreens, Ace scratches his head. This is a good spot to turn left. He navigates through the forest until he notices a sign: Black Diamond. That doesn’t sound like Drum Hill Island, but the names of these mountains go hard. Maybe they’re synonymous.

There’s very few people here—only two besides Ace—and one measly cabin. It looks closed. One of the snowboarders nods their head at the other and tightens the goggles. Then, they disappear down the snow. Ace’s gaze follows them.

Um, Ace thinks.

The road is steep, with bumps and swirls that slither down the mountain. The skinny trail is fenced off by the forest, and rocks jut out sporadically. The snowboarder slides and turns around the rocks and flips off of a mound. They hoot.

Ace turns. There’s no Luffy. There’s no Sabo. Maybe they’ve begun to make their way down as well. The second snowboarder here pats Ace’s back. “Hey, man, you from around here? You look nervous.”

“I’m not,” Ace says. “First time.”

“First time here? Oh, dude, this path is hella fun. Mind the giant rock when you’re around thirty feet in, though. It’ll trip you up, and it’s for sure accident prone,” the snowboarder replies. Then, they flip their snow goggles over their eyes. “See you down there.”

Then, Ace’s last bit of company is gone.

Alone in the desolate snow, Ace fantasizes about his surfboard. Whatever. Everyone’s a beginner at whatever they do. Luffy and Sabo probably had so much fun without Ace already. That alone fuels Ace’s FOMO into transmission. He will surf this mountain, or whatever they say.

Ace shakes away his nerves. He fixes the goggles over his eyes and knocks on his helmet for good luck. Then, he fastens his other boot onto the board. This doesn’t feel right, but that’s just his muscle memory. Ace feebly totters to the edge of the path. The wind whistles in his ears, further emphasizing how alone he is at the top.

Before Ace could hype himself up more, his balance shifts, careening his board, and suddenly he’s plummeting down the mountain. Ace screams.

He holds his arms out in an attempt to position himself better, but the speed at which he’s shredding this mountain makes it impossible for Ace to maintain himself. He swears the other boarders weren’t going as fast as he was. They were skidding and sliding alongside the mounds of snow. Ace is just skidding.

Ace wobbles on his board. It’s so skimpy and malleable compared to a surfboard. Every small adjustment he makes essentially carves his path down here. Somehow, Ace sees himself not making it out of here alive. He has to choose how he wants to go out.

He sees how this could be fun to an experienced snowboarder. He’s not that guy.

A bump in the path sends Ace into the sky. Falling on his back sounds bad. Falling on his face sounds worse. With how thick the snow is, he could fall headfirst into the snow and never be seen again. Ace channels his energy into twisting his body so that he lands on his butt. A busted tailbone is an easy fix.

He curls his body and braces for impact.

Once he hits the snow, he hits it hard. The ocean waves are much kinder when it comes to falling off. The back of his helmet slams against the harsh snow, and his ears ring in pain. His tailbone takes a direct hit against the sleet of snow and ice, and rapid throbs of pain follow. His head is dizzy, and momentarily his legs lose feeling. The weight of his snowboard tugs him further down. Ace flails his arms to hold himself in the snow.

Ace unbuckles one of his boots, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He’s alive, that’s for sure, and it hurts. Ass planted in the snow, Ace stretches his limbs and decides to wait a few minutes before he creates an action plan. The snow did a number on him. He can’t think. He might throw up. He’s the perfect bait for a bear. He’s going to die. He can’t even push himself out of his ass-created hole in the snow.

The high altitude of the mountain allows for the wind to whip Ace’s helmeted head around. His heavy head lolls around his shoulders. He can’t breathe. Ace fumbles to undo the clip, and he sloughs his helmet off next to him.

His black locks are damp on his forehead. Ace shakes the sweat from his head, but the rapid movement causes him to groan. His snowy, cold glove grasps his forehead. This biting pain is uncomfortable. He might have to wait for help.

Ace tosses his helmet to the side and sighs, waiting for the pain to subside. What he tripped on must have been the rock in the road the other snowboarder informed him about. Just his luck.

Then, a giant shadow crosses the sky. Ace looks up.

It’s another snowboarder flying above him. His mouth is open. He should shout for help, right?

Their form is impeccable—it’s something you see on a YouTube video. Their hand is gripped on the edge of the board, their knees tucked, and their other arm splayed out. Ace would give a lot to see a GoPro video of this person shredding snow.

He doesn’t need to shout for help; the snowboarder notices Ace. The snowboarder is distracted long enough for them to release their hold on the board and tumble into the snow. Ace hears a crunch and winces.

Ace watches the other snowboarder tumble into the snow. So that’s how you fall, he notes. The snowboarder’s gloves grasps against the mountain snow. They’re quick to unbuckle their boots and check their limbs and ankles. After they do a windmill with their arms, they pick up their snowboard and use it to hike their way to Ace. Snow cascades down their covered shoulders.

Although the helmet and goggles conceal their expression, Ace has a feeling that this person is mad.

Since he’s stuck, he lets the angry snowboarder approach him. He gulps. The slow, steady, and experienced stomps of the snowboarder alongside the harsh pikes of their snowboard against the mountain lets Ace know that there’s more pain bound his way.

Once the snowboarder is close enough, they peel back their goggles to reveal their face and shed the helmet entirely. They tuck it under their arm and stake their snowboard into the snow.

Fuck, Ace thinks. Why’d it have to be a pretty girl?

Similar to Ace, her hair is damp against her forehead and is frizzy from the tight hold of the helmet. Her lashes fan over her cheeks when she blinks, and her nose is scrunched. The sun behind the woman infuses her with a brilliant glow, which causes Ace’s breath to hitch, and her rainbow-hued goggles glint. Her brows create a pinch in her glabella, and a sneer is plastered against her face. Forget the GoPro, Ace would give a lot to see this woman’s smile.

Then, he notices her bloody, bruised lip.

“What—the fuck”—her voices comes out in angered pants—“is wrong—with you?” She pokes a gloved finger against Ace’s chest, and he throws his hands up in surrender. “You’re a hazard, hello? At least get out of the path.”

“Sorry,” Ace replies meekly. “Um, sorry about your lip, too.”

“You have a lot to be sorry for,” the woman hisses. “Where’s your etiquette?”

“I’m new here.”

She doesn’t let her bottom lip stop her from chastising Ace. In fact, blood drips onto the white snow, fresh and bright. “New to the area, or new to snowboarding?”

“New to snowboarding…” Ace lowers his arms.

The woman’s hand flies up to her head. Her visible rage has yet to leave. “This is a Black Diamond path, AKA what they use to categorize the most dangerous paths, AKA where only pros go, AKA metrosexuals like you shouldn’t be here.”

He still has time to look suave in front of her. He brushes his hair back and says, “I figured. What’s your na—”

“You should be at Drum Hill Island. This is Skypiea.”

“Okay.”

“Did you not see the experts only sign?”

“I saw the Black Diamond sign,” Ace offers, but he must’ve added fuel to the fire since the woman plants a hand on her hip, unimpressed. “I—I didn’t know what that meant. I said I was a beginner.”

The woman sighs. “Give me a second.”

Ace watches her plod into the forest. She takes a moment to drop her helmet, unglove a hand, and check her phone in her pocket. She holds her phone close to her lip to see the damage. Then, she pockets her phone, fits her glove back onto her hand, and screams.

A flock of birds fly into the sky.

After she’s done, the woman grabs her helmet and slogs back to where Ace sits, still ass-down in the snow. Her blood begins to drip down her chin, a red trail is left behind in her wake. She’s too angry to pay attention to it, and Ace would rather not upset her more.

“You stuck?” she asks, her tone gentler than before, yet it still has an icy edge to it.

“Yeah,” he admits.

The woman kneels down to unbuckle Ace’s foot free. She takes his snowboard and plants it into the ground next to him. She stands and dusts the snow from her knees, then she holds her hands out expectantly. Ace takes them, and she pulls him out of the snow.

The force of it pushes her back—he’s a heavy, muscled guy, you know—and Ace trips over her. They land on the snow. Their faces are inches away from kissing, and Ace might’ve gone for it if she weren’t mad at him already, if her lip wasn’t bloody, and if he had some liquid courage. Both of their breaths come out in wispy tendrils of fog, and the woman’s face is studying Ace. He’s unsure if she’s incredulous or captured by his good looks.

He decides it’s the former when the woman says, “Can you get off.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he murmurs and pries himself away. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says as she sits upright. “Rough landing. I’m used to it, though. Anyway, you’re lucky I know a way out of here.” She stands up, plucks her helmet from the ground, and holds the edge of her snowboard. “Just get your stuff and follow me. You’ll be fine, if you have no other injuries.”

“I’m okay,” Ace says. He might have a concussion. This woman really is pretty.

“That’s good. No need for a rescue helicopter, then.”

Ace chuckles. “Yeah, that might be too much.”

The woman’s eyes crinkle. She must be trying to smile, since her lips wobble and her brows are raised. Obviously, her new wound makes it impossible. Ace is kind of proud of himself, and then his confidence is lowered because it’s his fault she busted her lip open.

Without another word, the woman goes into the forest, leaving Ace to frantically gather his gear and stumble behind her. He jogs—and nearly slips—until he’s next to her. The woman says nothing to him as he catches glances at her.

It isn’t until the woman stops to free her hand from her glove does Ace say, “I’m really sorry, by the way.”

The woman looks at him as she raises her careful hand to her bloody lip. She wipes some of it away and hisses at the pain. She looks at the red on her finger and wipes it on her snow pants. “It happens.”

They continue their journey. Granted, she has every right to be upset. Ace clears his throat. “Do you come here often?”

“Yeah, I do,” she says. “Whenever I’m on break, I make the trip up here.”

“From what I saw, you’re pretty good.”

The woman smiles, this time with great care, in consideration of her lip. “Thanks. Lots of practice. But I never had the audacity to try a Black Diamond on my first try.”

“I followed instructions, I swear,” Ace insists. “There was this guy down there—Zoro, or whatever—and he told me to take a right, then a left to get to the bunny hill. I literally did that and ended up here.”

“Oh, that guy’s working today. No wonder,” the woman says. “He’s shit at directions.”

“He convinced me. He sounded so confident.”

The woman’s eyes meet Ace’s. She quickly refocuses on the slow shuffle of her feet. “I wouldn’t be surprised if other beginners are at Skypiea, too, but they wouldn’t have the audacity to actually ski or board it.”

She’s back to jabbing at him. He’ll take it. Ace shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, I’m full of myself.”

“So you do get that a lot.”

“I get it more often than I should,” Ace says. “Hey, once you get to know me, you’ll find that I’m a humble guy.”

The woman snorts and shoves Ace. “Humble people don’t say that.”

“And you would know that because you’re humble, huh,” Ace retorts.

“Yeah, once you get to know me, you’ll find that I’m a humble girl.”

“Okay, calm down.”

After that, she doesn’t respond. Ace struggles to find a conversation topic. She might not want to talk because of her lip, but it seems she’s not exactly opposed to it.

“Do you usually come with friends? I noticed you were alone,” he points out. Yep. He’s good. That’s good. Casual and smart.

The woman sighs. “Sometimes. I came with a college friend this week, but he sprained his ankle yesterday doing Skypiea. Did you come here with anyone?”

“Yeah, my younger brothers! They should be at the kiddie hill. I was tryna look for them before this happened…”

Ace wishes they met under better circumstances. If he had his iconic orange cowboy hat, he would have taken it off, held it to his chest, and asked for her name with a smile. He’d do that cheesy thing where he bows a bit and kisses her knuckles. Then, he’d impress her with a trip to the beach and show her how well he surfs. She’d ask him to teach her, probably, and he’d get to—

“Hello?” the woman says.

“Sorry?” Ace is saying sorry a lot today. It’s fine. This woman deserves it.

“Your name? Excuse me?” the woman asks. “I’ve been asking.”

“It’s Ace,” he replies. “Sorry, your lip must hurt a lot. Um, what’s yours—”

“Oh! We’re here!” the woman chirps, and she points to a ski lift, buried in the clearing of the forest. Around the lift is a populated area, with plenty of children and families. Settled in the valley of the mountain, there are smaller slopes and neon netting to prevent accidents. There are lessons held with snowboarders and skiers alike in blue uniforms, watching the people work their way around the snow.

Ace’s shoulders droop. “Oh. We’re here.”

“Go ahead and find your brothers.” The woman gives him a dismissive wave. “I’ll check in with the infirmary about my lip. I might need stitches.”

Here’s his chance. “Yeah, I’m really sorry. If—If it costs anything, I can give you my number, and you can let me know about the cost. I’ll pay.”

The woman hesitates. Ace crosses his fingers discreetly. Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes please say yes please say yes. She fishes a hand in her pocket and waves her phone in front of him. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Ace takes it. He remembers he has gloves on. He sheepishly sheds them off and tosses them to the side as quick as he can. “Oops. Um. Let me see…” Ace’s hands shake as he types his name in, and then his phone number. He double-checks the digits. He triple-checks it even. He makes sure it’s right. He really wants her to reach out.

“Hey,” the woman prods.

“Here you go,” Ace says and hands her phone back. “Call me. Or text me. Do whatever you want. Do whatever’s comfortable for you.”

“Okay… I will,” she replies, and Ace takes it as a promise.

Again, he watches her maneuver through the people in the area until she reaches an information desk. She rings the bell, and a worker comes out. The woman motions to her lips, and the worker freaks. Ace watches the woman laugh, throw her head back, and wave her hands.

Damn. Ace wants to make her laugh like that. He’ll wait for the text. He’ll cook up something good. Something that’ll make her kick her feet and giggle.

Behind him, a familiar voice says, “Looks like you made it.”

Ace turns around. It’s Zoro, the freak from the bottom of the ski lift. It looks like his goggles are still for show because he has them strapped around his eyes with no helmet. Ace wants to yell at this guy for making him look like a loser in front of a pretty girl, but he finds that he’ll settle for a nasty Google review.

“I did,” Ace says through gritted teeth. He then points to the woman. “What’s her name, by the way?”

Zoro whistles. “This is a place to snowboard and ski, not pick up chicks.”

Never mind. Ace is ticked. “Yeah, well, your directions actually led me to something called a Black Diamond Skypiea thing, and she helped me out. I just wanna know her name, dude.”

Zoro laughs.

Ace waits.

Once Zoro’s maniacal laughter is over, Zoro says, “That’s [Name]. You got lucky by meeting her. Wow. This is crazy. Sanji’s been trying to get his contact in her phone for ages. Good luck.”

Smug, Ace can’t hide the growing smile on his cheeks. That Sanji guy must be butt-ugly and not worth [Name]’s time at all. Ace’ll show her what a real man can do. Well, he would, but the ball’s in [Name]’s court. All Ace has to do is wait for the hospital bill to come in.

Ace pats Zoro on the back. “Thanks, man. I mean it.”

✭✭✭✭✩ decent place to ski and snowboard. personal faves are skypiea and wano. i've done alabasta too but i've heard things about it being artifical snow and you know what i can tell it's artifical... read more - [name]

✭✭✩✩✩ Gyatt damn is all i gotta say. Nami is fine as hell i want her 😍 I also broke my skull doing thriller bark they need to fix that shit asap - brookhardboner

✭✭✭✭✭ Would’ve given this place 1 star but Im pretty sure I met the love of my life today - firefistace

#portgas d ace #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece x you #one piece ace

154 notes · View notes