#I guess it would lead to him appreciating them more but it's not like he doesn't already? idk

[maple-the-awesome]

The Chain Meets You, His Partner || 3/3

Part 1 || Part 2

Pairing: Time, Wild, Four x GN! Reader

Requested by @temporarilyablog: i see requests are open still so im coming to you with a thought i had recently:how about a Link from the Chain interacting with the reader, another Link’s s/o from their original adventures, when *their* Link isn’t around. i can see some teasing another Link with the reader that they’ve only known through little stories here and here, or others grilling the reader relentlessly because another Link was so shy about their relationship and partner, and wants to know how that Link is like around someone he allows himself to relax.its kinda like when the Chain met Malon for the first time and interacted with her for stories about old man Timeand as always stay awesome, i love your writing!

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

Concerningly delighted or eerily eager - the Chain can’t quite agree on which descriptor best described their teammate the best once he realized they had all landed in his Hyrule. Bubbling with excitement ever since while maintaining a pace some of the other boys have to jog after, Link doesn’t waste breath saying where he’s leading them, although that giddy smile upon his face - as much as he tries to hide it - is plenty for the wiser heroes to get the hint…

The Chain already knew about you - Well, they knew the Old Man was hitched. To exactly who, he'd never say for his lips were always sealed with a mischievous smirk that kept the boys betting against each other.

Some insisted that their leader's mystery lover must be Princess Zelda, but Twilight felt that was a preposterous assumption. He tended to agree with Legend's guess that they had to be someone simple; someone who could make an extraordinary man feel ordinary in the best way possible...which was the correct prediction, of course.

As it would turn out, you are, in fact, not a noble or royal princess. Instead, you're an average farmhand living a calm life on your friend's ranch where you miss your husband greatly after many months of him being gone, so please excuse the passionate kiss shared between you both once finally reuniting at the front of the property.

Time isn't at all shy to show you off. Having been married for so many years, it's only natural for his arm to feel most comfortable wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to his side where he can easily connect kisses to your forehead and cheek. If the boys have a problem with it, it's best not to spoil the mood. Perhaps one day they'll understand the intoxicating love that is felt whenever in the presence of their most beloved.

"You just missed Malon and Talon. They went into town for a few deliveries and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon," You explain to your husband while leading the boys to the house. He hums thoughtfully and you don't miss the way he 'subtly' tugs you even closer.

"It’s good timing on our part then. 'wouldn't want to leave you stuck doing all the chores on your own."

"Now Link, you've been off on the road for months. Rest and I'll -"

"- Is there anything I could help with?" A young man from the group pipes in shyly from behind, "I grew up on a ranch myself, so it wouldn't be any bother."

"Oh, no. You boys are our guests. I'd hate to -" You begin, turning to face him with an appreciative smile, however Time is quick to object.

"- Nonsense. They're all capable young men and boys. A little work won't kill them, darling."

"- But -"

"- And it won't kill me, either," He takes your hand, lifting it to his lips where he places a gentle kiss upon your knuckles, "If anything, we could all use the distraction."

"...Well, in that case..."

There is plenty to be done around the farm and you only have two hands of your own, so, aware that you wouldn't win an argument against your husband anyways, you take him up on his offer. The other heroes do seem more than willing, happy to provide their services for tasks that don't involve risking their lives against cruel monsters, you know, minus the cuccos. 

Time and you each take four of the boys with yourselves. While he directs his half to the animals they'll be tending to, you lead yours to the barn, making sure to point out the layout of the ranch along the way so that none get lost when left on their own. 

You're happy to find that they're all very polite, particularly the young man from earlier who remains close on your heels throughout each step. He seems adorably eager to engage in conversation with you, asking many questions and adding comments to whatever you say. It makes sense, you suppose, since he certainly does look to be the small homestead-type based upon his build and knowledge of ranch life.

"You said this is your friend’s ranch. How long have you lived here yourself?”

"Gosh, 'seems like forever. At least since I was ten. It wasn't long before I met Link, I know that."

"You guys have really known each other for that long?"

"Uh-huh...but of course, it doesn't feel that long," You sigh fondly, "'seems like just yesterday we were sitting out there in that pasture as he told me about his home in the forest and all his adventures…Funny how time flies when you're havin' fun."

Speaking of the devil, you spot your husband at the pasture's fence, clearly waiting for you to finish up. Inviting the boys to find you if they have any questions, you leave them to work on the chores they've been assigned while you, yourself, head to join Time.

"Did they give you any trouble?"

"None at all. By the way you made it sound in your letters, I thought they'd be far more troublesome," You cross your arms over the fence, raising an eyebrow with a teasing grin, "But maybe you’ve just been too harsh on them."

"You've only spent a few hours with them. Give ‘em a chance and you'll start going gray, too," He rolls his eye, his lack of amusement towards your playful accusation telling you that those boys really must be a handful sometimes. Either way, deny it as he might, you know that look in his eye. Even as he leans here on the fence next to you, he watches the boys work with a softness hidden in his expression. He certainly cares for them.

"...You know, one of them is a descendant of ours," Time mentions casually, breaking you away from your straying thoughts.

"What?" When you look at him, he's still facing the distance, "...You're joking?"

He just smirks, only glancing at you through the corner of his eye.

"You're serious...?" You blink in disbelief before quickly pushing yourself off the fence, "Which one?!"

"Isn't it obvious?"

You place your hands upon your hips, making your own lack of amusement clear now, "There's eight of them. At least give me a hint."

Time pretends to consider your request, but ultimately shakes his head, "...No, I don’t think so. That would ruin the fun of having you guess."

"Liiinnk..." You whine, although even your pout proves ineffective. Your husband merely chuckles as he pushes himself off the fence and begins walking away to resume his chores, "You better not be lying to me!”

"I would never lie to you, my love. I know better than that~"

"I'm going to find out which one it is even if I have to interrogate them all!" You shout after him, huffing when he doesn't reply.

Part of you is tempted to do exactly as you said by confronting each boy until you receive a proper answer, but you also promised the Champion you'd show him the kitchen to start dinner soon. You'd hate to keep him and everyone else waiting with rumbling stomachs, especially if one of them is your descent in question. 

Now truthfully, you do already have a guess in mind - or more so a hope - however it's too early to decide. You'll just have to keep a close eye on them until this evening and if no one sticks out then, you'll be left to force it out of your husband who should really know better than to mess with you like this.

"Hey, I'm back!" It doesn't matter how long he's been away - days, weeks, months - those three words always seem to take a massive amount of weight off of Wild's chest every time, washing over him with a sense of belonging and domestic bliss that replaces all the strict expectations set for being a 'hero'.

"Link!" This feeling is easily reinforced after one look at you. Your glowing smile as you appear at the railing upstairs, his name sounding like honey from your lips…It's automatic for him to drop his heavy bags and weapons beside the door before opening his arms at the bottom of the steps just in time for you to jump over those last few right into his embrace which you’ve both missed so much.

"...Welcome home..." Sometimes that whisper in his ear is enough to make Wild cry. It's such a pleasant sound and reminder that he does, in fact, have a home because as much as he loves sleeping under the stars or following his heart across the vast kingdom of Hyrule, there will never be a day where it doesn't yearn to be beside you.

It's a cute scene to witness - two lovers reunited after so long apart - although the Chain does have a few questions swirling in their minds, namely who the heck are you? A pretty face just casually leaping into the Champion's arms before sharing a heartfelt kiss? They'd be happy for the guy if not for the fact that he has never once mentioned having a lover and you seem far too well acquainted to be a random friend.

"O-Oh, um, hi," You finally take notice of your audience, breaking away from Wild to send them all an awkward smile which they return, some with a few small waves. 

“Oh, these are the guys I’ve been traveling with,” Wild explains, which seems to put you more at ease.

“Nice to meet you all,” You give the group a bashful nod before introducing yourself. Your name does sound vaguely familiar - perhaps having been mentioned in mere passing at some point or another - but the Chain still can’t say they recall Wild ever identifying you as a partner.

“And are you guys…Um…?” Sky gestures between you both, trying to keep his smile from seeming too surprised. He’d hate to offend either of you.

“We’re dating,” You confirm comfortably, looking at Wild with a smile he mirrors as your hands interlock. 

“Dating? As in romantically involved, right?” Four raises an eyebrow, his question catching you off guard. 

“Y-Yes, well, I believe that’s what dating entails -”

“- How’d you manage that?” Legend interrupts, the question directed at Wild while pointing to you with a look of disbelief upon his face. Apparently he doesn’t share Sky’s concern towards delivering any offense…

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“It’s just - You never mentioned being in a relationship,” Hyrule mumbles.

Wild is quick to blush and duck his head in embarrassment, his words defensive, “It’s not like any of you asked! I - I just never thought it was important to bring up! It never seemed relevant!”

“He mentioned it to me,” Twilight admits, taking everyone’s attention off the flustered Champion, but only temporarily. 

“See! I could’ve said something and you just didn’t listen! Did you think of that?”

“Or you only told the rancher. You two are always sharing dirty little secrets and leaving the rest of us in the dark.”

This…goes on for a good moment. Rest assured, the argument does eventually subside after Time knocks their heads together allowing you a chance to swiftly change the subject by inviting the boys fully inside your lovely home. From there, you offer to get started on lunch, figuring it will be an excellent opportunity for you to get to know the other heroes better and spend some quality time with your boyfriend who is always quick to relax in the kitchen.

You begin chopping some vegetables while he gets the soup base shimmering, the two of you humming quietly amongst yourselves as you work. Your tranquil smiles and practiced teamwork is enough to make anyone feel jealous of such a strong relationship, although it’s all in good spirits. The other boys hold no resentment towards their friend, instead reflecting his joy as they eagerly tell you stories about their shared adventures in return for some information about yourself.

As it turns out, you’ve grown up in Hateno your whole life and had met Wild rather early in the beginning of his quest to defeat Calamity Ganon. He must’ve made quite the first impression - that or perhaps you took a lot of pity upon his confused state - because you willingly left your small village to help him navigate an unfamiliar Hyrule. Over the course of your journey, you grew close and never really found a good reason to leave each other’s sides even after the kingdom was saved, thus you’ve been together ever since.

“This house had been abandoned for years before we bought it. It’s nice because it’s still a part of Hateno, so we’re close to other people and my family, but far enough back to have our own peace and quiet,” You explain in a dreamy sigh as you turn to look over your home and admire the work you’ve done to this old place. 

“What’s with the construction back there?” Four asks, nodding his head towards the many boxes and tools that block the wall under the staircase.

“We’re adding another room,” Wild answers simply, not taking his attention away from the soup broth that he frowns at because it’s certainly missing something. More salt rock? Maybe a dash of Hylian herb?

Legend scoffs, leaning back against his chair at the table, “How much space do two people really need?”

Wild and you pause, glancing over your shoulders to meet each other’s eyes before going back to your work with flustered smiles. Clearing your throat, you give a shrug, “...Well, the plan is for it to not just be the two of us forever.”

Many of the boys raise eyebrows at this comment, the realization slowly but surely daunting on them. Their faces explode in shades of red once it does.

Time coughs into his fist, the first to break the silence, "...We'll be sure not to keep the Champion away from you for too long then."

Wild nearly gives himself whiplash looking back at Time with what can only be described as a modified expression of betrayal, his face beet red and mouth agape in shock. You'd be lying to say your own face doesn't feel awfully warm, too, although you humor the Old Man’s promise with a laugh, "You better not. This kingdom’s already demanded too much of his time away from home.”

Four has never been one for unnecessary fanfare, especially not in regards to his personal life. With that said, while he doesn’t mind discussing the intimate details of who he is outside of his role as a hero, he also doesn’t typically go out of his way to spill his guts about it either which is precisely why it took the Chain so long to find out about you.

Their friend had been rather vague as to where he was leading them after arriving in his Hyrule. They had already met his grandfather and even spent some time helping with chores, but Four insisted there was at least one more stop he wished to make before hitting the road again so that he could - get this - drop off a book for ‘someone’...

Now, being entirely honest, the Chain did internally judge his priorities just a bit, but they also weren’t about to kick up a fuss over it. Although Four failed to specify the identity of this mysterious ‘someone’, the other heroes simply assumed them to be an old friend, the gifted book acting as a mere excuse for Four to see them again. It’s only natural for a Link to begin missing his loved ones after adventuring for so long, and their resident smith must reeeally love you if that kiss you share is any indication. 

It happens so quickly that the other boys can barely process what their eyes bear witness to. One moment Four had been standing at the doorstep, book in hand as he assured everyone once again that his visit wasn’t going to take long. Then the door opened to an attractive stranger and next thing anyone knew, their Smithy was standing on his toes locking lips with said stranger - And with no hesitation whatsoever! 

“Link! It’s good to see you…Are these your friends?” You ask the question in such a casual manner as if it’s just an everyday occurrence for your boyfriend to randomly return with a whole new entourage behind him after months of being away.

“Yes. I’d tell you their names, but you know them already,” Four replies with a similarly calm demeanor, although his smile is now much more pronounced than it had been on the walk over, “Everyone here is named ‘Link’.”

“Easy enough to remember,” Even that information doesn’t seem to faze you beyond an intrigued eyebrow raise.

You’re quick to introduce yourself, not only by name, but also by the important title of being Four’s partner. Again, there’s no hesitation towards this establishment and he doesn’t so much as blink at hearing it, showing that this definitely isn’t a recent development for either of you. That little shit’s been dating you for a while, hasn’t he?! They should’ve known something was up seeing how annoyed he got following some of the other boys’ attempts at setting him up with a flirtatious local in the last visited town!

“It’s nice to meet you all. Link - Well, my Link has mentioned you in his letters before, so I was curious if our paths would ever cross.”

“Really? Cause he didn’t mention you at all…” Legend mumbles before getting elbowed roughly by Twilight.

“Will you all be staying? I can make tea or something -”

“- No. We’re only passing by so that I could give you this,” Four turns down your offer while handing you the book he’s been carrying around practically all day. How easily he’s able to do this surprises the Chain further, after all, most would jump at the chance to spend more time with their beloved. Surely just a few measly minutes can’t be enough to fill his quarter around you, can it?

“Ah, come on! You’re just going to introduce us and leave? That’s no way to treat a lover,” Warrior shames through a mischievous smirk. 

“We have a job to do. I wouldn’t want to delay us any longer than needed,” Four narrows his eyes at the Captain in return, yet that doesn’t stop the rest of the Chain from looking to Time who eventually sighs under the pressure of their gazes.

“...It would be rude to simply leave as suddenly as we came. I suppose there’s no harm in staying a short while - only if we are welcomed, of course.”

“Wonderful! I’ll get started on that tea then!” Four grimaces while the Chain cheers and enters your home without needing any more of an invite. Noticing his dampened mood, you place a hand on his shoulder and frown, “Do you not want to stay? I wouldn’t be upset -”

“- Of course, I want to stay,” He sighs, his hand quickly placing itself over your own, “I’ve missed you, I just don’t want them embarrassing me. They can be a bit…much sometimes.”

You chuckle, gently leading him inside, “They can’t be that bad, can they?”

“Hey Smithy! Why didn’t you say anything about having a lover before? After all we’ve been through together, too; we should be hurt!”

“...Can they?” Four deflates, and your smile turns more sympathetic. 

“Was it supposed to be a big secret?” Hyrule asks innocently, followed by Warrior’s scoff.

“I hope you aren't ashamed of them now.”

Four huffs in offense at that last comment, crossing his arms while shifting his weight to one side, “No, I’m not ashamed of them, and it was never a secret, it’s just that none of you ever asked. What was I supposed to do? Randomly start going on and on about my love life as we all ate around the campfire?”

“The Captain has no problem doing it,” Wild mocks, earning an insulted glare.

Hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, Four rolls his eyes sarcastically, “This is my partner and I love them…There, you guys know now. Happy?”

“But we still don’t know any details!” Shy whines, “Like, how’d you guys meet? How long have you been together?”

“Are you married? Do you want to be?”

…Dear Hylia, Four can already feel a headache coming on. Seeing his plight, you go ahead and answer the questions for yourself, “I’m afraid it’s not that interesting of a story. We grew up together and were always close until one day, we simply decided our relationship was more romantic than platonic. That was about a year or so ago. Not sure if we’re going to get married anytime soon since we’re still pretty young…but it’s a nice thought for the future.”

“You seem to have a very comfortable life here,” Time acknowledges, having a look around your home which is cozy and filled with books, many having been gifts from your boyfriend who has always made a point of bringing at least one back after each of his adventures.

“Laidback and uneventful in the best way possible,” Is how someone else describes it, “We can see why you’d like our Smith then.”

“True,” You snort before sharing an amused smirk with Four, “Although he can be quite the handful sometimes.”

The boys raise their eyebrows, not certain what you're alluding to. The Smith a handful? Are you certain you're talking about the same guy now, or does he have a secret polar-opposite twin hiding around here somewhere? Now that’s an actual secret he won’t be telling them anytime soon.

#link x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe #legend of zelda #lu time x reader #lu wild x reader #lu four x reader

[prowerprojects]

I know everyone said it a hundred times but if Sonic Prime really was about Sonic not caring about his friends enough why did they kickstart the plot with Sonic losing his shit because Eggman said his bestie was ugly

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #and tbh I don't think this really is what this is about #it's more like sonic getting to know his friends better #by putting himself in their shoes #or meeting counterparts that lack some of their personality traits which highlights that the ogs do have them #sonic prime #like the whole thing with thorn where sonic is forced to play the role that amy is said to usually play in peace negotiations #or like.when they really try to make us believe in the first ep that tails doesn't get emotional and is more concerned with stopping eggman #vs nine who's angry at everything all the time and mostly cares about his own comfort. etc. #but sonic keeps treating him like he's tails and it's not really working #nine obviously got attached but they aren't actually connecting. it's like they keep talking past each other #dread who completely lacks any of knux's positive qualities that sonic mentions... #the vibe is more 'sonic loves his friends but doesn't really get them' #I guess it would lead to him appreciating them more but it's not like he doesn't already? idk #it's just a weird thing to start the show with if this is what you're going for #project.txt

[tofixtheshadows]

Sorry but Kabru is so fascinating to me as a character, in a pure mechanical sense, because of what Ryoko Kui does with him. Everything about him is a red herring. He's deliberately introduced as some kind of rival for Laios, a party leader who is hopeless against monsters but absolutely brilliant with people both in and out of combat, and who has good reason to oppose him.

By the end of chapter 31, you might even think Kabru's going to end up as some sort of anti-villain, an antagonist with the best of intentions who nevertheless tries to foil our hero's plans. He wants to defeat the Mad Mage himself, he suspects Laios of being too irresponsible to be trusted with control of the dungeon, and his crew even thinks that Laios's party stole from them (and they're kind of right!). All signs point towards an inevitable showdown.

And then ... none of that happens.

Confrontation over the stolen treasure? Kabru is literally too smart to fall for the classic miscommunication trope and correctly decides it's not worth making a big deal of.

Kabru's deadly PVP skills? Aside from trying to take down Falin, he never fights another human again.

Wanting to be the one who defeats the dungeon? Turns out he was only doing that because he didn't think any other adventurer would have people's best interests at heart, and he's more than willing to play a support role in the whole affair.

Thinking Laios is up to no good? He really did just want to get to know the guy more. He has his misgivings, but ultimately ends up trusting Laios with his life.

Is Kabru going to get some sort of comeuppance for hating monsters and not appreciating their ecosystem? Well no, he has good reasons for hating monsters. He ends up wanting to learn about them through Laios's eyes, but he's never forced into any "Wow, guess I was wrong about them!" revelation.

Hell, even his implied ladykiller ways, which might lead you to think he'll end up being the stock "chivalrous lech" type of character, don't really manifest. He has a lot of opportunities to act flirtatiously around women, but doesn't. He's just a guy whose natural charisma makes him into human catnip.

And that's all hysterical to me, to pull it off. It's a fascinating way to tell a story. To introduce a character explicitly as a rival, potentially even a villain, and instead make them a deuteragonist. It's like a magician making a coin disappear, then slowing down their trick to show you the misdirection. "Did you see what I did there?" they ask with a wink. "The coin was in my other hand the entire time."

#Dungeon Meshi #Kabru #Dungeon Meshi spoilers #I will say that for the people who come out of the manga still thinking that Kabru hates Laios or that he's a bad guy in any way: #you were so busy staring at the hand where the coin disappeared that you ignored the magician explaining the trick #and yes I do think that Kabru and Marcille are the deuteragonists to Laios's protagonist #we see more of Kabru's interiority than anyone else. if you don't think he's a main character? idk. see me after class. #musings with Dea

[keyotos]

if this was a movie

summary — your book trope w/ hsr men!

includes — dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo, & jing yuan

tana's words — i watched project x and let me tell you I WANT THOMAS SO BAD. something about a skinny nerdy white guy will ALWAYS GET ME. and then it inspired me to write different tropes bc project x is very 2010s trope type shi

also check out my note at the end!

dan heng

⎯ you guys are: grumpy x sunshine

⎯ i feel like out of all grumpyxsunshine duos you and dan heng would be the most chaotic grumpyxsunshine because to some extent the both of you are equally as unhinged.

⎯ if you ever need someone to pull you back when you get too erratic? leave it to dan heng! if dan heng needs someone to make him not sound as assholeish? leave it to you! you two balance each other out in the most perfect way

⎯the two of you reminds me of that one tiktok sound where it's like

"that's just the way he sounds, he has an asshole voice. tell him he's okay."

"everything's great."

"dude."

⎯ you two are my FAVORITE kind of grumpyxsunshine couple because you two are both so chaotic??

⎯ your energy is just so bouncy?? like you can bounce all over the place and you're just so energetic and he's over here like meh...

needless to say, he does appreciate your energy. most of the time, he usually fuels it (he says something purposefully boring bc you always refute his his boring response). your entire being makes him smile (which is rare), and that's why you guys work out so well.

and to add to my point, dan heng is just as important to you as well. you have a lot of energy, which is a good thing, but sometimes it can lead to distraction/erratic behavior/etc. dan heng is always the person who tugs you back to earth. he's your rock in every situation: he's the logical reasoning behind your ideas, he's your pragmatist, and he's your gravity, keeping you still and calm when needed.

— and i also wanted to indulge more in my hc that you and dan heng are so chaotic together

he doesn't shut down your ideas. he just adds logical reasoning to them. those are two very different things. if you have a good idea (you usually do) that sounds reasonable (it doesn't even have to be extremely reasonable either), he'll full on encourage it.

— so you could literally have the most random and out of pocket idea ever, and as long as you back it up with some evidence (doesn't even have to be good), dan heng will approve. i think that's true love.

⎯ such a chaotic duo like you would sacrifice yourself for the world but HE would definitely sacrifice the world for you.

gepard

⎯ you guys are enemies to lovers

⎯ ik a lot of people expect like friends to lovers or something softer but NO you guys are enemies to lovers.

⎯ gepard is so HEADSTRONG and STUBBORN which is why i think he’s the perfect person for the enemies to lovers trope. like ofc his love is going to be so sweet and kind later, but the beginning…

you two are both going to be very determined and you will both fight for what you believe in. that passion makes you two such a good couple, and it also makes your love exhilarating and ongoing, bc that stubbornness you two share will never go away.

you guys definitely have silly little banter and those moments where you guys accidentally brush hands and you guys both blush. lingering touches that may insinuate another feeling that gets you hot

⎯ but you two are like stubborn af. so no confessing anytime soon! it would definitely be a slow burn romance because of your stubbornness and you two are just in denial

⎯ i want to talk a bit more abt you two being enemies: i guess you ideals differ because gepard is so devoted to his orders while you are more of a carefree spirit. you’re more of a rule breaker and he’s more of a rule follower.

⎯ at first you would have rather died than ever spoke to him. his uptight nature and the way he acted so proper utterly pissed you off. serval would have to be the only way you could converse w/ gepard w/o biting his head off

⎯ in the end, after some forced proximity, you two would def be developing some feelings.

⎯ with enemies to lovers, there will be lots of pining. which is why i think enemies to lovers is the perfect gepard trope.

since he’s captain of the silvermane guards at such a young age, he probably doesn’t have a lot of experience in the relationship department. so he’s stuck dealing with being hopelessly and utterly in love with you

everything abt the enemies to lovers trope describes your relationship. the initial hatred, the touches, the PINING, the middle ground.

⎯ after you guys have like a hot make out session i think all the feelings will be cleared up (LMAO)

blade

⎯ your trope is: second chance romance

hear me out: you guys both met in the past because you two were both stellaron hunters. however, the paths you two chose were different. you two were so in love with each other, but destiny had other plans.

now we are in the present, where blade sees you once again, and all his feelings come crashing back down into him. everything he’s suppressed about you: your face, your smile, your laugh; it’s all coming back up

⎯ ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THE VISION!!!!

⎯ you guys make your first encounter, and (depending on your own scenario) it either ends in longing or pain. blade hasn’t seen you in (probably) years.

when you end up spending more time together, the tension is THICK. old feelings are obviously not gone. body language is all pointing to you. breathing gets faster and why do you really want to kiss him????

⎯ something abt intense pining and sexual tension just gets me y’all

there’s obviously past feelings in the air, and none of you want to acknowledge it. so, you two suffice on brushing each others’ hands when you walk past each other, long stares from across the room, and watching each other’s every move.

between the both of you, you would make the first move. it’d be like an accident; it would be one of those movie scenes where the girl/guy asks, “is this weird?” and the guy goes IN and he’s like “not at all.”

⎯ and then the next day you both are freaking out bc what if fails like last time??

idk something about longing and missing someone dearly just screams blade to me. the thought of someone on your mind 24/7. blade having you on his mind 24/7??

sampo

⎯ you guys are: fake dating

⎯ i’m a little on the fence but hear me out

⎯ you two agree to fake dating because it’s both mutually beneficial. it would be no strings attached. plus, you would be able to get away from that one guy who keeps flirting with you, and sampo has evidence that he can commit to something.

⎯ but when does “no strings attached” turn to more?

suddenly, the once friendly arm around the shoulder makes your heart beat quicker. the wink he always gives you makes your stomach explode with butterflies. the friendly offering of a rose makes you blush more than you should.

you aren't the only one affected. sampo swears he feels his heart skip multiple beats after he hears you laugh at one of his jokes. when you took his hand into yours once (it was an act to fool others), his heart nearly stopped in his chest. and suddenly he finds himself making more quips and trying to get closer to you, even though he knows the risks.

⎯ now, you both are left confused with your feelings bc BOTH OF U DON'T WANT TO MESS IT UP.

⎯ you both did not think it would turn out this way. before this, you were friends making a beneficial agreement. you guys were fine.

⎯ that is a lie. i just lied. you guys always had some thought about dating each other. sometimes sampo looked a little too good, and sometimes sampo found your eyes a little too mesmerizing…

back to present time. there is so much tension to the point where you both want to explode. and then there are thoughts. maybe you want sampo to be your boyfriend for real. maybe sampo does want commitment. scratch that, because he doesn’t want commitment. he wants you. he just wants you, and that’s all.

⎯ now how do you confess? or do you just hold in the feelings

jing yuan

⎯ CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS. I WILL NOT BE ELABORATING BC THIS HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR A WHILE.

⎯ ik he was training hard asf in his childhood, but that doesn’t mean u couldn’t have snuck in (i haven’t got far enough in the game to know if you can or not LOL)

⎯ you guys are cute little buddies, because the both of you probably had no friends! and bc of that, an adorable bond formed between the two of you.

growing up, that bond would remain unchanged. even though you lived down w/ everyone else while jing yuan was living seclusively, that never stopped you from seeing him

honestly, you thought you were always going to be best friends. but when someone asked you if you were ever going to get a boyfriend, you realized that the only person you could really see yourself with was jing yuan.

⎯ teenage you had a CRISIS. like you were freaking out after you uncovered your recent revelation. bc you can’t see yourself w ANY GUY EXCEPT YOUR BEST FRIEND??? YOU WANT TO DATE YOUR BEST FRIEND????

⎯ you think you are the only one that feels this way but it’s a LIE. bc JING YUAN FEELS THE EXACT SAME WAY.

after his training, once he rests, his mind constantly flutters to you. sometimes he scolds himself for not focusing on criticism or improvements because he’s too distracted by the fact that you’ll be coming over that day. his thoughts are literally you.

⎯ there was a period in time where you both thought about confessing, however, the whole fiasco w/ his mentor got into the way of that. it was messy, it was sad, and it was not a good time for the both of you. bc of that, you two both set back your feelings due to personal reasons (you wanted him to be emotionally better, he didn’t want to be a burden).

it was years later when you two confessed your feelings for each other. you two were both looking at a photograph of the both of you when you guys were younger, and you confessed you had a crush on him back then.

bro goes, “i have a crush on you too.” and you were like, “haha we should’ve told each other,” but then you’re like PRESENT TENSE!?!?!?

⎯ eventually it is a happy ending in the end! obviously. hehe.

tana’s words ⎯ sorry this was a little vague 😭 if you would like for me to elaborate on some of these scenarios, lmk in my ask box!

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗) #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x you #blade x reader #blade x you #sampo x you #sampo x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #book tropes #tropes

[positively-mine]

You're a girl?!

how they find out & they're reaction

tags: afab, stalking mentioned, no spoilers

a/n: I FORGOT TO QUEUE THE POST 😭😭 also I couldn't find a purple banner so...yeah

series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚

Vil

Firstly, it's that he's an actor himself and he knows. Part of being an actor includes observing your coworkers and how to make the chemistry between each other work to ensure the success of the media. Whether it's how you interact with the other guys or you're using baggy clothes that are way too big for you, or overall uncomfortable atmosphere (behavior etc.) coming from you when you're around the NRC students. Secondly, it's his eye for detail that is able to put the pieces together and figure you out. No stopping it there I guess 🤷‍♀️

It would be a lie to say that nothing changes. On the contrary, he visits you more often to leave you beauty and skincare products. Oh yeah and he forgot to mention that he "borrowed" your uniforms to make some alterations to them. He may not need to know the reasons why you're keeping it a secret but he'll be damned if he lets you walk around campus with shabby clothes and skip out on your face care routine due to the lack of necessities.

Rook

Stalked. Do I need to say more. He's curious about the student that's unable to use magic and stopping blot after blot. You've piqued his interest and now he needs to quench it. So he decided to follow you around for a while. Which eventually leads him to discover you're a girl. The situation in how he finds out? Well there's many possibilities. You change in a different room, you try not to go to the toilet outside of ramshackle, constantly monitoring you and overhearing what you talk with Grimm. But if anyone asks, he'll say it's hunter's instinct.

Obviously stopped stalking you. I mean he may have weird habits but he draws the line at being a pervert. When it's just the two of you, uses more feminine pronouns (I think some french words change depending on the gender they're referring to, if not pls correct me 🙏) Doesn't make it awkward at all with you. Nothing much changes except for the fact that he's more protective of you and suspicious of other people's intent on approaching you. Stalks them instead to figure out their motive..

Epel

Sweet boy thought that you were also a victim of pretty face syndrome. Maybe that's why he found it easier to talk with you and hang out. Don't be surprised that he's always trying to sit with you during lunch. What he didn't expect however was that when he was walking over to your table, he overheard you talking to Grimm. The context? I will leave it to your imagination. But poor Epel was stunned. So you were a girl. He's kind of upset that you didn't tell him but what can he do. Now he's having mixed feelings too because it was understandable that you had a feminine face. But he's alone in it, again.

He does treat you with more respect. His mom didn't raise him like some beast, and if she caught wind of how he's been treating you...yikes. But what she doesn't know wouldn't hurt her. Does get more protective of you as well. He's on guard when he sees other students talking to you or when guys approach you. This is his chance to prove how reliable and a gentleman he can be. Essentially takes up the big brother role.

reblogs are appreciated!

#epel x reader #epel felmier x reader #rook x reader #rook hunt x reader #vil x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #twst x reader #twsisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #pomefiore x reader #x reader #twst #twst wonderland #disney twst #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier

[coralinnii]

Can I please request Cater, Ace, Deuce and Epel helping you after a rough break up (with someone else, not them)?

‧₊˚✧ Let me love you until you love yourself ‧₊˚✧

↳ Helping you after a rough breakup 

feat: Cater ❋ Ace ❋ Deuce ❋ Epel genre: hurt/comfort note: no pronouns were used with the reader, reader is implied to be Yuu!reader, depictions of toxic relationships, implications of violence,

Similar prompt: finding out you got brutally rejected

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You see, Cater already had a suspicion that your boyfriend wasn’t the greatest pick. Years of listening to his older sisters talk about red flags to look out has honed his sixth sense about these kind of stuff.

But what was he supposed to tell you? He’s not going to just barge into your relationship and tell you that he feels some off vibes about your man. All he could do was be there for you when you needed an ear to hear you out. 

But he started to notice that you were less like yourself as the relationship went on. Your Magicam account wasn’t as active and soon even your close friends weren’t sure when was the last time you hung out with them. Cater could only catch you in class or with your glaring boyfriend clinging to you. 

Your relationship finally hit an ugly crescendo when your boyfriend publicly humiliated you and ended things in the open hallway. The reason Cater learned was because you wanted to go out with your friends again, even if he didn’t want to. 

Night Raven College has a knack for choosing students with rather vindictive personalities and no matter how subtle it is, Cater is no different. The sociable redhead may not always be the type to step up to lead or start something, but he is more than willing to teach a tactless underclassman a lesson on respect.

It doesn’t matter which dorm your ex is from since the extrovert Cater has friends and contacts of all the Housewardens, vice Housewardens and other notable students with authority. Call it his privilege for his chatty nature and years on this large campus.

With a charming set of words and implications from the smooth-talking Cater, most of them picked up the hint that a certain jerk needed some well-deserved punishment. For disgracing the dorm’s dignity, they all claimed. 

With the personified ick dealt with, all of Cater’s attention is on you. The versatile upperclassman can be anything you need in your time of healing. Cafe dates, unhinged frustration venting, screaming karaoke sessions with a chill support group (an exclusive privilege courtesy of the Pop Music Club), or a judgeless crying session as he held you together both metaphorically and literally. 

The screaming karaoke and dessert binging was fun and all, but the feeling of Cater’s warm hands as he gently rubbed your back as you hiccuped through your tears was a healing moment that left you raw but appreciative. 

Perhaps there was a little bit of guilt, or even something deeper within his heart for you, but as he wrapped his arms around you closer whilst you fell asleep in comfort, Cater thought to himself to protect you from something like this for as long as he can stay with you, for as long as he could do to stay with you.

“Hey now, no tears. Cay-Cay to the rescue!” 

Oh he hated your ex from day 1. No, it wasn’t because of his personal feelings for you, it was just literally everything about that jerk. At every chance, Ace would snidely comment and jeer the as*hole. The only reason he would stop was if you personally asked him to get along with him. 

“Tch. Fine, I guess” 

So Ace is a liar, but at least he’s a good actor. He’s willing to smile and laugh but he never lets the suspicious feeling fade. 

That suspicion quickly became rage when Grim told him that jerk of yours broke up with you over text. 

Turns out your (ex) boyfriend was dating you in hopes to catch the attention of a crush from his hometown, sending pictures in hopes to stir up some jealousy. Questions became screaming matches in your room and soon you were left a broken mess alone in your bedroom.

When Ace knocked on your door sometime later, you saw him in a familiar heart-shaped collar which wasn’t a surprising image. Without saying much, all Ace offered as a vague explanation was that he got into a fight with some jerk student.

As Ace was getting comfortable on your sofa, Cater later texted you, giving full details of what happened. Turns out the “jerk student” was your ex who was running his mouth oh how you were crazy and unbearable out in the courtyard, where Ace was passing by.

“Riddle is pretty pissed right now. Ace just went crazy on him and wouldn’t let up until we pulled him away. But still, be kind to him, k? He had good intentions.” 

Sitting together on the sofa, the two of you made quite an interesting image. Your eyes were red with wet tracks all over your face from crying while Ace had swollen patches of blue and black on his normally boyishly charming face. 

You broke the tension. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.” 

Ace brushed your words off. “What are you talking about? I did it for me. That dude always rubbed me the wrong way.” 

Ace is a liar, but strangely you didn’t mind it when he did it.

“Just so we’re clear, I didn’t do it for you. Alright? Good, so don’t go thinking too deep into it…”

A model student would support all of his peers, Deuce convinced himself. It was why he kept himself from just straight-up wrecking this punk that you found yourself dating. But Deuce trusts you. Maybe Deuce’s misjudging him since he can’t imagine you falling for someone beneath you, and he assumed that despite how he feels about your partner, this dude wouldn’t be stupid enough to not treat you good. 

But unbeknownst to Deuce, arguments were common in your relationship with your insecure partner. From complaining that you don’t spend time with him (um, because you were busy saving your friends from overblot?) to outright blaming you for emasculating him in his own relationship because of your popularity in school for your accomplishments. 

The breakup itself was honestly anti-climatic, and everyone could see it from a while away so it came to the surprise of no one. 

It was the aftermath of all of the arguments with your ex that truly hurt you. What was once a source of pride to you became reasons of your anxiety as you wondered if your ex held truth in his accusations. 

“You think you’re perfect ‘cause you’re doing a little better than me? Get over your high horse, you pretentious b-“

“Are you ok?” Deuce’s voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, bringing you back to the library where you were helping Deuce with a subject he was failing. 

You tried smiling but Deuce noticed the tenseness of your features and try asking once more, which led you to ultimately voicing your worries. 

“Maybe I was being too boastful, I shouldn’t just talk about me- Wait, Deuce?!” 

You managed to catch Deuce by the hem of his sleeve before flinching at the sight of the glaring rage in Deuce’s fiery eyes. 

“Where is that no-good coward! That punk’s getting what's coming to him!” 

It took some time (and getting kicked out from the library) for Deuce to finally settle his rage. Still, he was muttering some choice words to describe your ex which made you chuckle just a little. You wanted the breakup to be civil and simply pass as an unpleasant memory but you admit that seeing someone get mad for your sake was…nice. Almost heart-warming, really.

Suddenly, Deuce turned to face you. Back straight and his strong fist firmly pressed to his chest, Deuce looked to you with pure honesty as he promised to protect you from your worthless ex with everything he’s got. 

It took you quite some time to admit that when Deuce made that promise, you felt your heart skip a beat. 

“If anyone gives you grief for that, just ignore 'em. Let me handle them, I’m pretty strong.”

Romance honestly flies over Epel’s head. Afterall, the relationships he’s seen are his town’s couples who've been married for decades with kids all grown up, and the ones he’s seen in films and books. All he knew was, if you like someone and you’re dating them, you should be counting yer lucky stars and make sure you treat them right.

So, imagine the genuine look of surprise on his face when his dormmates whispered rumors that you were caught in an ugly argument with your boyfriend, with accusations that your man was actually cheating with someone supposedly prettier than you. 

Now, imagine his unbridled rage when Epel found that it was true. Your ex-boyfriend apparently held high expectations of himself and the partners he deemed to be worthy by his side. While he settled for you, he was looking around for another companion that “best suits his standards” as he said. 

It took a strict scolding and promise of harsh reprimanding from Vil to calm the young freshman down as his hometown habits rushed back to him. How he wanted to give that no-good son of a backyard mutt a mighty beating for what he did to you.

Instead, Vil suggested that Epel rather hit him where it would really hurt for unsavory fellows like him, through his pride. 

“If he thought he was better off with someone that “best suits his standards” as he put it, try proving to him he ended up with what he deserved. ” 

After deciphering what Vil meant, Epel used his noggin to hurt your ex where it really hurts. No longer was he the runt of a small village, but a man with various connections and skills to get a leg over his enemies. 

With his persistence, he convinced his Spelldrive captain, Leona to sit with you during lunch, and have the Vil Schoenheit spoil you with high-end gifts in public. With the attention of the most famous students showing you favor, everyone in NRC whispered and commented on who really won in the breakup. 

“He cheated while dating someone like that? What a mistake.” 

Behind his soft expression, Epel mentally smirked at the plummeting image of the man who prioritized fame over love. "You darn right a mistake it was, he thought.

In the entire time Epel treated you like the most important person on campus…in public at least.

In the privacy of your dormroom, you worked hard in holding in your laughter as Epel swore up a storm like a drunken sailor about the worthless ex of yours. Like Vil, it’ll be up to you to make sure he won’t go off picking a fight with your ex. 

Still, there was something undeniably true to Epel’s character to defend your honor, however he does it. 

“I ain’t too good at these sneaky schemes, but you gotta admit I got ‘im real good. Don’t cha think?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #cater diamond #twst cater x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade #twst deuce x reader #deuce x reader #epel felmier #epel x reader #2.7k followers event

[aemondsbabe]

A Kindness

summary: you're finally ramsay's most favorite toy, but is that really a good thing?

pairing: ramsay bolton x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark content it's ramsay hello, blood kink but no injury/gore, mentioned major character death (again, no injury/gore), slight au (ramsay wins battle of the bastards), choking, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation/degradation, slapping, piv sex, unprotected sex don't be silly wrap ur willy, hair pulling, creampie, slight breeding kink, puppy play, boot humping idk how to else to phrase it, slight angst but a happy ending for ramsay lmao, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.2k

a/n: my first foray into dark or at least semi-dark writing and my first time writing ramsay! i've had this one in my head for such a long time so it feels really good to actually get it out! hope everyone enjoys and please make sure to heed the warnings with this one!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🖤 my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Dip the cloth again, you dolt,” you snap, looking up from the scroll of parchment rolled out before you on the table when you hear the coarse woolen cloth begin to scrape dryly across the silver Ramsay’s… thing was supposed to be polishing, “If I have to remind you of that one more time, I’ll tell him you tried to touch me. I wonder which part of you he’d hack off for that, hm?” 

Reek’s eyes go wide at your threat and he nods his head frantically, quickly reaching over and dunking the cloth into the small bowl of vinegar before him. “Yes, m’lady. Apologies, m’lady.” 

A small sigh leaves your lips as you rest an elbow on the table, nose scrunching up slightly at the sour smell that seems to hang like a cloud over the room, the small one by the kitchens.

 Probably where the staff ate, you think, staring blankly at the fire crackling away in the hearth. You’ve tried hard to picture it – Winterfell in its former glory, trussed up with wolf banners and filled with children’s laughter, how it was when the Stark’s called it home. 

Your eyes linger on Reek and for a second, you’re halfway tempted to ask him about it – what it was like living here, being one of them. You don’t, knowing the question would fall on deaf ears at the least, or send him spiraling to the point of being unable to finish his chores, and then it would be your head on the chopping block as well. 

Distantly, you hear the familiar baying of Ramsay’s hounds and your eyes flick up to the narrow slit windows on the wall; you do your best to ignore the way Reek’s head swivels to the sound in the same instance yours does, the way that adrenaline so keenly rushes through you – a burst of panic leading the charge before you have the chance to correct it. 

Anticipation, you remind yourself, jaw clenched, Passion, excitement. 

Your eyes vacantly scan over the parchment you’d nabbed from the library earlier that morning, an account of the birth of Arya, apparently the sister of the one that had actually managed to escape some weeks back, no doubt frozen now in one of the snowy forests that surrounds Winterfell. You don’t really care, your thoughts once again reverting back to Myranda. Bitterly, you remember how he never made her stay behind when he went hunting, never made her watch over his man-servant, never made her second guess.

The last one is a lie, the truth woven deeply into the many nights you’d spent up with her – listening as she fretted about each word she’d uttered to him that day, hoping each one had been right and had been said at the right time, that he wouldn’t find some made-up cause to punish her. Tendrils of jealousy had twisted into you even then, even as she painted a picture of what he truly was. 

Just as men’s voices filter through the windows from the courtyard outside, your lips quirk up into a mean, victorious little smirk. 

It’s her body he fed to the dogs, you think, the voice in your mind a proud hiss, Just like Violet’s and Tansy’s and Kyra’s. You remember the day well enough, remember the shock of seeing your friend's body laying in the courtyard as you’d run out to greet Ramsay, teal eyes staring at nothing. It had been you that had warmed his bed that very night, and all the ones after it. 

“There you are,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, nearly making you yelp as Reek scrambles to stand up from the table. Before you even have a chance to, a strong hand clasps over your shoulder, stilling your movements, “No, no, don’t get up on my account.” Rusty copper stains color his hand, dried blood outlining each of his nails. You don’t let your mind linger on what the source of it could be.

You whip your head around and swallow nervously as he chuckles lowly, “Ramsay!” You breathe in greeting, the corners of your lips tilting up into a tentative smile, though that’s quickly washed away as you take in the messy splotches of red that stain his coat and tunic, that snake their way up the pale column of his throat and dot the sides of his face. 

He looks every bit the hunter and you wonder, not for the first time, what that makes you. 

“You seem quite comfortable here, pet,” he drawls, leaning down until he’s eye-level with you, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re more at home down here with the help,” he continues, hand tightening to the point of pain on your shoulder, making you grit your teeth, “Than you are in our chambers where you’re meant to be.”

Our chambers. A privilege he never granted her. Stupidly, your heart sings. 

His hand tightens on your shoulder once more, finally drawing a pained whine from your lips.

“Y-You told me to watch him! To make sure he –” You’re cut off as Ramsay unceremoniously hauls you to your feet, clawing at your leather doublet. A cry leaves your lips as the hand on your shoulder tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging as he forces your head back, blue eyes flicking to your neck as you swallow thickly. 

“I told you to be in our chambers when I return from hunts,” he corrects you, standing to his full height as he holds you tightly, forcing you unsteadily onto your tip-toes, “That I expected you to be at the door, ready and waiting for me.” His lips ghost over your ear as he speaks, his voice a low growl that shouldn’t excite you the way it does. 

“I’m sorry,” you wince internally at the way your voice comes out as a pained little squeak, your hands scrambling to hang onto his forearm, nails digging into the stained quilted fabric of his jacket.

“You know how I get after a hunt,” he suddenly pulls away from you, his hand pulling out of your hair, a gasp leaving you as your heels drop to the floor. You blink as he reaches up, not flinching from years of practice, though instead of striking you or harshly gripping at your jaw like you expect, his hand cups your cheek. Your chest rises and falls as he strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, blood stained fingers now delicate against your soft skin. 

“Today’s was a special one, too. Don’t you remember?” He questions, icy eyes sliding from yours to the red-headed man still standing by the table, glimmering cruelly as he smirks. 

Still, you nod your head, knowing Reek won’t answer. “To celebrate killing Jon Snow,” you breathe, gripping at the leather of his tunic, desperate to win even a scrap of approval.

Surprisingly, he grants it – fixing you with a proud little grin, like how an owner would look at a dog that’s just mastered a new trick. “That’s right,” his hand ruffles the hair on the top of your head, a gesture that should feel demeaning, yet it sends a tingle of pride through you instead, “Seems you can remember something after all.” He pulls away and traipses over to Reek, hands clasped behind his back.

“Surely you remember too, Reek? You were in the kennels that evening when the dogs had their treat, were you not?” He taunts, the playful inflection in his voice entirely for show, “Our little problem’s been dealt with and now we hold not only the Dreadfort but Winterfell as well! What do you think about that, hm?” Ramsay studies the other man carefully, eyes flitting over his face as he takes great pleasure in the subtle twitches of pain that still manage to flicker through the harsh conditioning he’d endured. Your eyes stay fixed firmly on the stone floor. 

“A… A great victory, master!” 

“Yes, a great victory, indeed,” he smiles, watching Reek for another moment before turning back to you. His smile morphs into a cold, callous frown that ties your stomach into knots, each of his steps making your heart hammer faster in your chest. “You know, it’s actually rather amusing,” he starts, bloodied fingers twirling a stray lock of your hair, “How my hounds seem to be continually more well trained than you, pretty little idiot.”

Pretty, pretty, pretty! Your heart thumps dumbly, a rabbit in a snare. 

“I’ll do better!” You whimper, shaking your head frantically as your eyes meet his, “I can do better, really, I was just confu–”

The hand in your hair shoots down suddenly, yanking several strands with it as he clamps it around your neck. “Confused?” Ramsay murmurs, watching with rapt attention at how you struggle in his hold, lips quivering as the words die in your throat, “Really? I give you one task, I ask one thing of you, and you can’t even figure that out? You still disappoint me?” 

He’s not expecting an answer, you know this, and yet you still try to give one as your mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, only the faintest little whines managing to escape. You feel faint, both from his grip around your throat and from the myriad of emotions coursing through your veins – your heart twists at the thought of failing him, your stomach is in knots as various punishments flash through your mind, and yet your center still sparks, still sends little glimmers of arousal through you. 

His grip loosens enough to allow you to suck in several shaky lungfuls of air as he snickers, endlessly amused at how eager you still are, how you still yearn so deeply for him. Again, he pats your head condescendingly, muttering little hushes as if you were a crying puppy. “Lucky for you, pet, I have plenty of experience training stubborn bitches,” Ramsay chuckles, blue eyes glimmering with mirth when he feels you swallow apprehensively, “I think we’ll have your behavior corrected in no time, won’t we? Even the stupidest of beasts can still learn a trick or two.”

Before you have time to react, the hand cradling the crown of your head harshly grabs at your hair again, tugging you suddenly toward the door. “Ah!” You yelp, stumbling as he all but drags you behind him, your hands shake as they struggle to grab onto his forearm, “Ramsay, pl–!”

“You should be grateful I am allowing you the kindness of walking!” He growls, sparing you a glance over his shoulder as he leads you through the Great Hall, “Pity I’m so protective of you, really, I’m sure it would be quite entertaining for my men to watch you crawl.” His drawled threat sends a spark of fear down your spine and you pant, chest heaving, as you shuffle behind him; your cheeks burn as several of his soldiers sitting at the long wooden tables catcall as you stagger past them.

Finally, the two of you reach your shared chambers, that fact sending a little torrent of satisfaction through you even now. Unceremoniously, Ramsay all but tosses you inside and you whimper as your hip collides with an edge of the decorative table just inside the door, no doubt hard enough to bruise but at least it breaks your fall. 

“It’s quite unfortunate, normally find your impudence amusing,” he starts lowly, pressing the old wooden door closed with a thud before sliding the lock into place with a self-satisfied grin, “But I know you know better, don’t you, little one?” He asks as he stalks toward you.

Your breath catches in your throat as he stands before you, studying you silently for a second in the same calculated way he studies a deer through the sight of his bow. Not knowing what else to do, you silently nod your head as your eyes slip down to the floor, like a child being scolded. 

“You’ve been with me the longest now,” he murmurs as if you don’t know, one bloodstained hand grabbing at your waist as the other fits around the back of your neck, once again forcing your eyes to his face, “We grew up together, you and I. You know my ways, my rules, isn’t that right?”

Again, you nod your head, bottom lip trembling with the want to explain yourself, although you know that would only make things worse.

“That’s what makes your disobedience so frustrating,” his blue eyes bore into yours as he speaks, his lip sticking out in a mocking pout, “Because you do know better and yet you’re stupid enough to act out anyway, hm?” His tone is sharper now, dangerous like the pointed tip of an arrow.

“I wasn’t acting out!” The words claw themselves out of your throat before you can stop them and instantly you know you’ve made a mistake, but now you’re desperate to remedy it, “I wasn’t, really! I j-just misunderstood you, that’s –” 

Your pleas come to a screeching halt as his hand smacks across your face, the other grips at your jaw tightly, tight enough to make you whine softly in his grasp. Your eyes squeeze shut for a second, cheek stinging, before they open and lock with his again, wild and desperately. 

I wasn’t being insolent! You scream silently, hoping he can somehow hear you, that maybe all of your years with him would’ve granted that ability, I would never! I was doing as you said, like always! 

“I was wrong earlier, wasn’t I?” Ramsay mutters, so close to you that your foreheads nearly touch. Your eyes widen slightly at his words, heart thumping in a hopeful little staccato, though he wrenches that away quickly enough, “You’re not a dog at all, no, a dog would be obedient and docile.”

Your brows knit together with confusion at his words, biting so hard into your lower lip that you’re shocked you don’t taste blood. Although, you can’t help the surprised little gasp that leaves you when his hands begin quickly tugging at the laces of your bodice as your own remain in white-knuckled fists at your sides, the whole of you determined to stay still like a statue, a plaything. 

“No, you my sweet little pet,” he growls sarcastically, low voice morphing into a pleased chuckle as he tugs your bodice off; the shirt below it quickly follows and a small part of you blooms with pride at the happy little sigh he lets out at the sight of your breasts. 

“You’re just a dumb puppy, aren’t you?” He chuckles against your throat, nipping at your skin more so than kissing it, although you relish the feel of his lips on you all the same. “A dumb, defiant little puppy,” he continues, hastily pulling at the ties of your skirts and you whimper despite yourself when they finally fall to the floor, pooling at your feet, “That’s in desperate need of more training.” 

He stops, pausing for a mere second, and pulls back just enough to look at you, no doubt gaining satisfaction from the desperation written so plainly on your face. There’s a hunger in his cold eyes – a predator silently deciding to go for the jugular, nocking an arrow on his bow. 

You whine as he properly kisses at your throat now, his hands rough against your skin as he grabs at your hips. One skims higher to cup your breast, the unexpected gentleness of his touches causes you to shiver and whine in his grasp and into his mouth as he kisses you finally, his full lips moving steadily in time with yours. 

Harsh pants leave your lips as your heart pumps madly in your chest, his touches always work you up so quickly. The thought of him still being fully clothed as he left you bare and vulnerable made you hotter still; the feel of his warm leather tunic against your exposed skin, of his bloodied hands against your supple skin, drives you mad. 

Before you have time to second guess your movements, you begin blindly pulling at the strings on his leather tunic, desperate to feel him against you. Surprisingly, he lets you tug it off of him, granting you a last meal of sorts, and you can’t help but to smile into the kiss, gasping into his mouth as he unbuttons his jacket himself before quickly tossing it aside as well. He’s panting nearly as harshly as you are as the two of you part long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head, your hands immediately go to his chest the second it joins the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Your eyes flicker over him as the two of you pause, the knot in your belly growing tighter at the sight of his taut stomach and chest, the low, warm glow of the many candles dotted throughout your chambers accentuating each muscular dip. Your fingers shake as they trail over him and you feel a sick sense of pride twist in your stomach at the fact that, unlike so many men, his skin isn’t mottled with years of scars and bruises. No, his is flawless, a pale, unmarred, ruthless canvas – a flawless killer. 

Of course, he can’t let you have this reprieve for long. A good trainer doesn’t spoil his pet. 

A soft, broken gasp leaves you as one hand wraps around your neck again, slotting perfectly against your throat like a collar, as he walks you a few paces further into the room, closer to the small hearth by the bed. “Kneel,” his command leaves no room for anything but obedience; you swallow thickly, nervously, and do as he says, lips parting ever so slightly when your knees rest on plush bear skin instead of hard stone. 

A kindness, even now. 

Ramsay’s lips twist into a proud grin as you stare up at him, legs folded beneath you with your hands poised perfectly on your thighs, a familiar stance he’d taught you years ago. “Good girl,” he mutters, fingers threading gently through your hair as you moan softly. 

“Thank y – Ah!”

“No,” he chides harshly, tugging your head back by the roots of your hair until your neck is bared to him, your back arched, “Puppies don’t talk, dumb little thing,” he growls, shifting more closely to you in order to gain a better hold on your hair, close enough that you whimper as your front is pressed firmly against the length of his leg, the thick fabric of his trousers rough against your skin as one of his feet slots between your thighs, “A well-trained pet certainly doesn’t.” 

The knot in your belly seizes at his words, aided by the laces of his leather boots brushing oh-so gently against your center, the knotted fabric sticking against the wetness already leaking from your clenching cunt. You whine, high-pitched and frantic when he clutches your hair tighter still, his fist white knuckled against the crown of your head. 

“A well-trained little pet would always obey their master, wouldn’t they?” You can’t miss the breathiness of his voice now, his tone lower and smoother than it normally is, and the sound makes your hips hump against his boot before you can stop yourself, your nipples stiff, nearly aching, as they rub against his trousers. 

A low, rumbled laugh echoes through your chambers when your arms wrap around his leg, fingers digging desperately into the firm muscle of his thigh. “Aww,” he coos mockingly, licking his lips as he watches you, his attention making blood rush to the apples of your cheeks, “Is my pretty little puppy getting off on this? Does your cunt drip when I tell you how stupid and worthless you are?”

The sound of your blood pumping furiously through your veins thuds in your ears, Pretty, pretty pretty!

You whine as you try to eagerly nod your head, his hold on your hair preventing you from moving much, though your hips rut steadily against his boot now – pressing tightly against the worn fabric, the knots from his laces rubbing perfectly over the throbbing little pearl at your center. 

“You look like you’re having fun,” he drawls, cold eyes shining as he studies you closely, chest heaving in time with yours as his cock hardens in his pants, “Are you having fun, little one?”

Again, you try to nod, keening brokenly as your eyes stay fixed on his. You pant harshly against his leg, breath fragmented as they’re punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter and tighter with each pass of your slick center over the laces of his boot. 

He knows, of course. As soon as he ordered you to stay in the kitchens with Reek this morning, he knew – knew you’d follow his orders to the letter, even if they contradicted his previous ones. He knew he’d find you there, knew he’d punish you for it, knew exactly how he wanted to break you down so that it could be him who built you back up. He’s known you the longest, you’d grown up together. He knows, of course he does. He’s nothing if not a thorough hunter. 

A loud, broken whine leaves you when he flexes his foot, pressing his boot harder against you still. You’re helpless to do much else aside from stare up at him, gasping, while your hips buck against him as quickly as your sore muscles will allow, your high barreling toward you at a breakneck pace. 

All of that comes to a sudden, screeching halt though when he moves again, shifting his weight until his boot is just out of reach. The sudden lack of stimulation makes your back arch further still, your muscles taut like a drawn bow. 

“Oh, poor little puppy,” he laughs, watching gleefully as you whine loudly, the peak that had been so close fading away, leaving you aching, “If you thought it was going to be that easy, you haven’t been paying attention.” He taunts, crouching until he’s eye-level with you, smirking as his movements cause his pull on your hair to become tighter, making you wince, though his hand thankfully releases its grasp once he settles.

“Mmm,” you mewl softly as he caresses your breasts again, jumping slightly when he thumbs over your nipple before softly pinching at it, giving the other one the same treatment. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back further still, pressing against the palm of his hand as he kneads at your chest, eager for any stimulation you can get.

“Myranda was never like this,” he says suddenly, his voice low, steady, calculated. He smiles cruelly when your eyes snap open at the sound of her name, the back of your throat tight as tears already blur your vision – just like he wanted. “No, Myranda always behaved perfectly, she always did exactly what I said.” 

He leans forward suddenly, the side of his face pressed firmly against yours so that when he speaks, you’re sure to hear every syllable, to feel them punctuated against the skin of your neck. “She was perfect. I never had to punish her for the same thing twice, you know. Not like I do with you.” 

You shudder as his lips press against your skin again, pressing eager kisses against the wet trail of tears running down your cheek. He admires the way your shoulders shake as you sob, the way the subtle movement makes your breasts bounce, the way your cheeks flush so prettily, how your eyes always shine so brightly with fresh tears in them. 

Ramsay loves breaking you – adores the moment when his arrow is finally launched free from his bow, adores the moment he sees it pierce your little heart. He loves you, in his way. 

Not that he’d tell you that.

He lets you sob for a moment longer, all the while pressing hot kisses against your cheeks, relishing the salty taste of your tears as the little droplets of blood still caked to his skin mar your pretty face, staining it with delicate streaks of red. His cock twitches at the sight, black pupils nearly drowning out the blue of his eyes – maybe one day he’d bring you hunting, what a sight you’d be covered in the bright blood of a fresh kill. 

“Myranda never needed training, puppy, not in the way you do,” he nearly whispers, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he leans back enough to grab at your chin, tilting your face up to his, “That’s what made her so boring.”

“Huh?” You breathe, sobs stalling for a second as you process what he’d just said, your obvious surprise making him laugh lowly again. 

“What? Does that shock you? That I found her boring?” He questions, eyebrow raised, “Why would perfection be interesting?” 

Your eyes search his face as he shifts, kneeling rather than crouching. A little glimmer of pride sparks to life within you as he kisses you again, your lips moving against his frantically, mewling when he pushes his tongue into your mouth and nips at your bottom lip. 

“I never got to train her,” he breathes against your lips, grunting at the way your hands skim over his chest and stomach, grabbing at him so frantically, “I hardly got to punish her; if I gave her an order, she would follow it blindly – it made her predictable, it made her boring.”

“N-Not like me?” You whisper hopefully, meeting his gaze through half-lidded eyes as you pant, your chest pressed tightly to his. 

“No, sweet pet, not like you,” Ramsay smiles, making your heart sing as it leaps beneath your ribs, “I get to train you, don’t I? And punish you when that little puppy brain can’t follow the simplest of orders.”

You should be offended, should feel mocked and belittled, but you don’t. Instead, you nod your head eagerly, preening like a proud little bird at his praise, because that’s what is, really. Ramsay will never be one to sing your praises softly like other men, but he admires you all the same. 

Before you have time to reply, he grabs at your waist and abruptly maneuvers you, manhandling you until you’re poised on your hands and knees, cheek pressed firmly against the fur rug beneath you. 

“I get to play with you, pet,” he drawls lowly, pressing a hand into the small of your back and grunting appreciatively when you arch down like he wants, licking his lips as your cunt finally comes into view, shining already in the low candlelight. He smirks at the way you moan when he presses his hard length against you, grinding against your slit, chest heaving at how warm you are even through his trousers, “Don’t I?”

“Yes!” You nod eagerly, pressing back against him like a wanton whore, nearly dizzy with need when his fingers bump against you as he quickly undoes the laces on his pants, “Yes, yes, yes, please!”

“Ohh, so you can be good, hm?” He teases, groaning in relief when he pushes his trousers down just enough to free his cock, too impatient to remove them entirely, “Seems my training’s working nicely.”

Mindlessly, you nod, willing to agree with whatever he says so long as he gets inside you.

Mercifully, you don’t have to wait long. A loud cry fills your chambers as he presses into you, the slight sting of his thick cock stretching you open making you shiver, a familiar sensation since he was rarely ever patient enough to work you open on his fingers. 

Immediately, he sets a brutal pace, his hips pressing against yours tightly each time he pushes forward, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust. Your cunt clenches at him greedily and your hands scramble against the rug beneath you, fingers tangling into the furs, desperate for something to anchor yourself. 

“Fuck, tight little cunt,” Ramsay grunts harshly above you, his hands gripping meanly at your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. 

“R-Ramsay, fuck… fuck,” you whimper beneath him, your eyes squeezed shut tightly as the knot in your belly threatens to unravel, your walls pulsing rhythmically around his length each time it spears into you.

He chuckles breathlessly at your little murmurs and runs a hand up the length of your back before grabbing at the hair at the nape of your neck, relishing the little cry you give as he pulls you up until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. “Are you close already?” He mocks smugly, his fingers untangling from your hair to wrap once more around your throat as his other paws at your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. 

You swallow thickly, throat bobbing under his grip, and nod your head the best you can, grabbing at his thick forearm. 

“Do you think I’m going to let you?” He teases, biting harshly at your shoulder as his hips keep up a punishing rhythm.

You nearly sob at the question, so desperate, but still you shake your head, cunt pulsing around his length. “No, n-no…” You moan mournfully, voice hoarse from his hold. 

He chuckles behind you, his chest rumbling against your back as he kisses and bites at your earlobe, your shoulder, any part of your neck not covered by his hand, each touch driving you mad. “Finally, that little brain seems to be working,” he grunts, laughing lowly as he abandons your breasts long enough to slap your cheek, blessedly soft this time, “I’m having too much fun playing with you to let you go that easily,” He drawls, chuckling once more when you whine. 

“In fact,” he continues, reaching down and rubbing his fingers roughly against your aching bud, just enough to make you cry out before he suddenly pulls away again, tugging his length from you as he lets you flop to the floor with a little grunt, “I want to see you do a trick,” he whispers, rubbing over your ass before smack it roughly, making you jump, “Roll over.”

“Wha –” You start to question, only to be cut off with a loud cry as his hand spanks you once more.

“Be a good fucking puppy and roll over.”

His order leaves no room for questioning and obediently, you listen and roll over onto your back with a little whimper. You keep your legs bent up when you settle, keeping yourself on display for him, clenching around nothing as you eye his hard cock bobbing against his stomach, the tip red and leaking. 

“Good little pet,” he praises, his words going straight to your pearl as you shudder. Hastily, he pushes your legs up further, one hand holding you open as he presses his cock back into you, savoring your loud whine, the way your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He resumes his harsh pace, slamming into you as he chases his high now, blue eyes trailing appreciatively over your trembling body, watching as your breasts bounce with each unforgiving thrust he gives. 

“Please, please, Gods, please!” You whine frantically as he presses his hips against yours, grinding into you, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your bud perfectly, “Ramsay, p-please! I – fuck!”

He laughs breathlessly at your cries and leans down when you arch your back toward him, mouthing savagely at your chest, teeth nipping at the fat of your breasts before he licks over your nipples. He knows each touch is only driving you closer and closer to your release, yet he still doesn’t give you permission, a part of him meanly hopes you’ll slip over anyway and give him another reason to punish you, like he actually needs a reason. 

Still, you have been good today and he does love how willing and docile you become when you peak, so malleable – entirely submissive, entirely his. 

He bites and kisses his way up along your chest and neck before licking into your mouth for a moment, eagerly swallowing each desperate little cry before grabbing at your neck once more. Greedy, he turns your head to him, needing to see that empty-headed, hazy look in your eyes when he lets you finish.

His cock jerks at the sight of you, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you try desperately to hold off, cheeks flushed, reddened lips parted. He grunts, feeling his balls tighten, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm. 

“Cum, puppy,” he growls, forehead pressed against yours.

Your lips part in a silent curse as your high slams into you, each muscle in your body contracting at once. Your eyes bore into his wildly as your cunt spasms tightly around his cock, eyes rolling back as he fucks you through it.

“Fuck!” He grunts, growling lowly as his cock spasms within you, your walls all but milking his own high from him as well. His hips slam into you a few more times before he stills, gasping as he fills you with his spend. 

The two of you lay together for a moment, panting loudly against one another. Ramsay is the first to move, shushing you as he pulls his softening length from you, making you whine. 

Distantly, a part of you twists gleefully when you feel his seed drip from you, another thing he never dared do with her. 

“Here,” he says softly, offering you a hand, which you gladly take, letting him help you stand since you doubt you’d be able to on your own. Finally, you stand on your feet, albeit unsteadily, and grab onto the foot of the carved wooden bedframe to steady yourself. Strangely, he stays with you, neither of you saying anything as he holds you, blue eyes studying you as they gleam with some unknown emotion. 

After a moment, you try to pull away, meaning to leave as you always do, not one to wait around for his order anymore. 

“Stop,” he murmurs, only pulling away once you still, “Stay.” He orders, an unfamiliar softness to his voice. Your head reels, eyes staring unfocused as you try to make sense of… whatever this is, whatever his game may be now. 

He returns quickly enough, a damp cloth in his and from the small wash basin he keeps on the vanity. You reach out to grab it, to clean yourself off like you assume he wants, and yet he stops you, holding the cloth out of your grasp until you lower your hand again. 

“Obedient puppies get rewards,” he says softly, all of the harshness from before absent from his tone as he answers your silent questions. You nearly freeze when he presses one small, gentle kiss against your forehead. Finally, he makes quick work of wiping between your legs, taking care to wipe away any of his spend that leaked from you. 

“Thank you…” You nearly whisper, voice scratchy from his earlier treatment. That doesn’t feel like the right thing to say but if it isn’t, he doesn't say. 

Silently, he cups your chin, lifting it enough to give him room to check your neck, trailing his hand over it lightly until he must be satisfied that you’re okay, that he hadn’t treated you too badly. 

Kind, even still.

A few moments later, you recline in the plush bed, watching as he kicks off his boots before joining you, lying with you under the soft blankets. This part, at least, you’re used to – lying together like this but not touching, not cuddling, that’s too intimate, too close. 

He hadn’t said that, wouldn’t say that, but you knew. 

A surprised little gasp leaves you when he pulls you close, hands, clean now that he’d taken a moment to wash them, resting on you gently. One smoothes up and down your arm as he lets you lay against his chest, cheek pressed against his collarbone, his chin resting on your head; the other grabs at your thigh, pulling you to him until you’re tucked into his side, one leg propped over his hips. 

“You did well,” he says softly, chest vibrating under your cheek as he speaks, “With your training, I mean. You did well. I’m… proud of you.”

“Thank you.” 

The two of you are silent after that, neither of you knowing how to handle this new territory that you seem to be spilling into, but you don’t care, not with your heart pounding quickly in your chest. You’d think you were dying if it weren’t for the savage sense of victory threading through every inch of you. 

Proud, proud, proud! The word echoes in your head with each pump of blood through your heart. It was so small, the barest of compliments, but from Ramsay it meant the world. It was something he’d said to you, only you, never to her, not once. Never to anyone else. 

His chest rises and falls under your cheek, breath steady and even. He always falls asleep quickly, normally you do too. But not this time, not tonight, not wanting to let this moment fade just yet. 

He loves you, in his way.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @iamawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino @targaryenbarbie @fan-goddess

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#my writing #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton fanfiction #ramsay bolton fanfic #ramsay bolton fic #ramsay bolton smut #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fic #game of thrones smut #got #got fanfiction #got fanfic #got fic #got smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #smut #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf

[angelst4rs]

☆. . . stupid string.

☆. . . a red string suddenly appeared on scaramouche's finger. and he does not like it.

☆. . . gn reader, red string of fate au, scara's pov.

☆. . . wrote this after i told @fairykazu about the idea. hope you like it, vidia 🫶

stupid. he truly does think it’s stupid. everything about the red string tied around his pinky finger, which will supposedly “lead him to his soulmate”, is just stupid.

scaramouche disliked—no, he detested the very concept of this. why would he want a soulmate? he’s already content with living all by himself. besides, what kind of person would like him, let alone love him?

must be some kind of weirdo, he thought. the more he stared at the crimson colored thread, the more annoyed he got. with the way it was tightening around his finger, he knew his soulmate was actively trying to search for him.

there’s no way in hell will he let his soulmate find him, so he did the one thing that would make sense for him to do, cut the string.

“...what the actual fuck…?” scaramouche muttered in disbelief as he watched the scissors break in his hands when he attempted to cut the string. do the archons hate him that much? what kind of sick joke was that?

so he’s doomed to meet his soulmate eventually, huh? which one of the archons proposed this stupid idea anyway? guess his bucket list of fighting an archon will be crossed out again.

not wanting to give up so easily, he tried everything that he could think of to try and sever the thread on his finger. but again, nothing worked. just what was this string made of? the very thread that binds the universe into one? probably.

stumped and out of ideas, scaramouche simply sat down and contemplated everything. feeling the red cord tighten once more, he couldn’t help but wonder, why is my soulmate trying so hard to find me?

as the days flew by, scaramouche started to live with the string around his finger, trying his best not to untie it—which did work, but the string simply reappeared again, now tied even tighter around his pinky.

if he’s honest, he’s quite amused by how persistent his soulmate is in finding him. perhaps his soulmate is getting very close to him at this point, maybe he’ll meet them in just a few days. who knows?

on many of his sleepless nights, scaramouche’s mind is plagued heavily by his soulmate. or at least, the idea of his soulmate. just what does the world have to offer for a puppet?

what kind of person are they? do they enjoy bitter tea like he does? how will they react when they finally meet him, someone—no. something that’s nothing but a work discarded by his creator?

maybe he’ll just leave this up to fate. it’s no use obsessing over something that’ll eventually happen. whether he’ll like it or not, his soulmate will come. and whether they’ll accept him or not, that’s a story for another day.

likes & reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#lyn writes ☆ #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #wanderer #wanderer x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You finish your tea in tenuous silence. With an agreement between you, there isn't much left to say. You really don't know what to say or do. All the implications pile on you as your mind races.

A wife? A good wife. What does a good wife do?

Support her husband. Love him. Show him affection...

That last thought tingles in your cheeks. You peek over at Walter as you hug your empty mug in your hands. What does he expect of you? Not just in your marriage but tonight? You haven't wed just yet.

He meets your eyes, brushing his hand over his curls. He slides forward on the cushion as your shoulders slope down. He still looks angry.

"Done?" He asks, not waiting for your answer before he stands.

"Yeah, I... I am, thank you."

He approaches and takes the mug from you. He goes into the kitchen without another word. You peer over at the windows, rain still battering the panes. You sniff and stand with a shiver as you search around, your clothes still showing damp patches.

"The truck..." you mutter.

"What about he truck?" Walt frightens you and you turn to face him, wrapping your arms around yourself. He stops to shut off the space heater.

"It's down the road. I couldn't get it all the way here..."

"We'll worry about that tomorrow," he grits.

"Right... tomorrow?"

He blinks, "you can stay. It's safer."

He nears and offers his hand. You stare at it, it seems so big. You slowly unfold your arms and put your hand in his. He squeezes, firm but not unkind.

"Are you tired?" His tone softens.

"A little," you feel a yawn trying to break free and put your chin down.

He leads you around the couch and back into the entryway. He ushers you towards the stairs as the cold air creeps up your legs. You climb up beside him, crowded on the staircase.

"Well, we'll get you tucked in then and we'll figure everything else out tomorrow," he affirms.

"Yeah, sounds good," you wilt out.

We. Not I, not you. We. Together.

He hums and says nothing else. He takes you down the hallway to a room at the end. He flips the light switch. There's a four-post bed on a brown rug with a green quilt is draped atop the layers of bedding. A desk stands in the corner, cluttered and full. Several sweaters hang from the back of the chair, much like the soft wool he wears no.

He leads you to the bed and throws back the blankets. He tugs you towards the edge and lets you go. You climb up and wiggle your cold toes. Before you can reach for the covers, he tosses them over you.

Wordless, he backs away. He rolls his broad shoulders as he turns his back to you and nears the long dresser against the wall, a basket on top of it heaped with clothes. He pulls his sweater over his head, further mussing his curls. As he reveals his thickly muscled back, you look away.

You guess you never thought much about how he looked. You always just saw him as strong and big, but you never delved that deep. Your eyes trail over as he undoes his jeans and steps out of those. He dumps them into the basket of laundry and leans on the dresser as he peels off his socks.

He turns to you, in a pair of boxers, and you shyly flick your eyes to the ceiling and lay back against the pillows. The image of the hair across his burly chest has your insides brewing. He's older than you but can't be that old.

He goes to shut off the light and you sense his shadow in the darkness, lurking closer and closer. You nearly gasp as his weigh shifts the bed and cool air seeps under the covers as he slides beneath them. You're nearly shaking with uncertainty.

You're going to sleep in the same bed. That's not unusual... technically, you're engaged so it's expected. He lowers himself down beside you and you squeak as he grabs you. He pulls you towards him, guiding an arm beneath you as he angles you onto your side.

You let him. Maybe you want this or maybe you're terrified. Either way, you can't deny him. You have a deal.

He curls his other arm around your middle as you lay flush to him, your short figure nestled against his large one. His chest rises and falls calmly against your back as your own heart hammers frantically. You close your eyes, folding your arm around his as you rest your small hand on his thick fingers.

He's as hot as a furnace. His body heat quickly chases away the lingering cold in your flesh. It soothes you in a way you don't expect. You feel safe despite your vibrating nerves.

"Good night, lamb," he kisses the crown of your head.

His deep voice rolls through you, a new sort of chill flowing down your body.

"Night, Walt," you murmur.

He lets out a noise, somewhere between a growl and a purr, and you feel the tension slake away from his body. It might not be so bad. He can be nice so long as you go along.

#series #au #backwoods au #walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #night hunter #the farmer's daughter

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

good morning!! it's @henderdads' birthday!!!! happy happy happy birthday to youuuu cass!!!

The minute Eddie Munson turned 18, he could see it; the only color he would see until he and his soulmate kissed for the first time.

Yellow.

Rays and rays of warm yellow sunshine, the middle light (and middle light only) of the one stoplight in town, one half of their school colors, the dandelions spotted agross the grass between the trailers, the stubborn daffodils that keep reappearing in Ms. Wilson’s garden though she’s long since passed…

The half-toned things he’s told are green, half yellow, half blue, and that he got lucky his soulmate’s favorite color wasn’t black or gray (then he felt glad he’d settled on a different color than either of those by time he was older, he didn’t want to subject his soulmate to more black and white..

After Steve Harrington turns 18, he can see the color of the lipstick his mom wore in their last family portrait, the color of the punch that gets spilled all over Nancy’s shirt at Tina’s halloween party, the stripes and piping on his godforsaken Scoops uniform, the red of his own blood rushing down the drain beneath his feet.

The dark tone puddled beneath Eddie’s limp body in the Upside Down.

The same color splashed onto Dustin’s arms and legs.

Pressing his hands into it to stop it from spreading, to start it flowing again, Steve presses his lips to Eddie’s once…he hasn’t done CPR since he worked at the pool….twice…”C’mon man, don’t leave him like this.”....

The third time is when it happens.

The feeble beat of Eddie’s heart starting again, the push of breath into his lungs, the sudden flood of cool, dark colors around them. 

“Eddie? Eddie! C’mon man, stay with me.”

It looks like it takes a herculean effort to do so, but Eddie’s eyes open. “H–hey, Harrington. Wh–”

“I’m going to pick you up now, Ed,” Steve says, doing just that, tucking Eddie into his chest and starting for the trailer. “El is keeping the gate open for us but we gotta hurry.”

The four of them manage to get him out through the gate and into the RV, this time with Nancy behind the wheel. 

Having to let him go at the doors to the ER is one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, but he manages, Robin telling him over and over again that she’d already called Eddie’s Uncle and that he’d be safe.

While they’re waiting, filthy and exhausted but victorious nonetheless, Nancy says to him: “It’s blue, by the way. The…everything down there has some sort of blue tinge to it.”

Steve doesn’t ask how she knew, just appreciates that he can look at something and she’ll tell him the name of the color. 

The pattern of the chairs is orange and purple, the plant in the corner is green (“All plants are some shade of it for the most part.”), the wallpaper is his favorite though.

“It’s yellow.”

“I guess I know what color Eddie’s been seeing the past few years..” It’s the first and last thing he says until Wayne Munson comes to get them.

“You three need’ta be looked at too. Not jus’ Henderson.”

He leads them back to a room, and Steve recognizes Dr. Owens there waiting for them.

They get looked over, they get cleaned up, and Steve gets a shot of something that’s supposed to help stave off anything those flying rats may have given him.

And for the next week, he stays. 

He and Wayne maintain a constant vigil at Eddie’s bedside. Wayne leaves for his shifts when he has to, Steve is allowed to stay because of his soulmate status, and Eddie wakes up a little more than a week later.

Wayne had left a couple hours ago, so Steve will have to call him at the plant but first: “Steve?” Eddie manages to croak out when his eyes crack open the first time.

“Hey Eds, welcome back to the world of the living.”

Eddie shuts his eyes and huffs a laugh, then cringes, “Still painful as always, I see.”

“Oh yeah? What else do you see?”

Steve watches his brow furrow as he tries to make sense of the question, watches as he opens his eyes again, a bit further this time, and when they widen in amazement as they travel around the room.

“What–? What the hell..?” The heightened beeping of his heart monitor makes Steve feel almost giddy, getting to watch him see this for the first time. “What nurse kissed me while I was out?” He pauses, staring down a painting of colorful wildflowers on the opposite wall before turning back to Steve. “And can they come back so I can get more pain meds?”

Steve chuckles as he stands stiffly from the hospital chair he’d been all but glued to for the last week, reaching over Eddie’s head to press the call button.

“What’s so funny?”

“You, of course.”

“Thank you, I try, but what’d I do this time?”

“It wasn’t a nurse, Eds.”

Eddie blinks at him for a moment, confused, “I don’t quite have the brainpower for riddles, Stevie.”

Steve’s stomach flips at the nickname, “It wasn’t a nurse, it was when we were still in the—down there.” he pauses, feeling suddenly embarrassed. Did Eddie want it to be him? His first assumption was one of the nurses… “Someone had to give you CPR.”

He watches as Eddie scrolls through what he can only assume is a roster of their “Team Vecna”; Nancy? It’s been known that she’s been able to see in full color since she and Jonathan got together. Dustin? Yeah..no. Ro–

“And it wasn’t Robin.” Steve says when he sees Eddie’s lips curl into an ‘R’.

“Then who—”

It dawns on him at the same time the summoned nurse arrives with a new shot of whatever it is he needs.

She leaves with an excited “We’ll call Wayne!”, and Eddie drops his head back to his pillow.

Steve’s stomach twists anxiously. “Eddie?”

“So you’re telling me that the one and only Steve Harrington gave me the kiss of life and also the gift of colorvision, and I wasn’t conscious enough to experience it properly?”

Steve ducks his head, scratching behind his ear nervously. “Uh…yeah…? Sorry Eddi–”

“Can you do it again?”

His head snaps up again, “Huh?”

“And preferably before I lose the battle for my consciousness?”

Eddie’s face is soft and open, a smile quirking the pink of his lips and crinkling those dark eyes of his…Who is Steve to tell him no?

He smiles softly in return and stands.

Leaning forward with his weight braced to one side of Eddie’s head, the other hand coming up to cup his uninjured cheek, Steve kisses him properly for the first time.

The first of many many many more to come.

eeee i hope you liked this little thing!!! i've never written anything w soulmates before!! 🥹 i hope you have the most bestest day today, friend!! 🫶🫶

#i looked back at your trope tier list for this 👀 #damn was that tag game useful or what? #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #soulmates #st #stranger things #eddie munson x steve harrington #steveddie #eddeve #noelle writes

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Baby Face - A John Shelby/Reader One Short Story.

Words - 2,742

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You and your girlfriends, you have names for each of them. Names the don’t know about. Tommy is razor cheeks, because of course. Those cheekbones. Arthur is angry fella, again, self-explanatory, and John is... 

“Look, girls,” you chime, sipping upon your gin while discreetly nodding in the direction of the Garrison’s entrance. “Baby face just walked in.”  

“He’s so adorable,” your friend Marjie sighs, turning to you with a look of pure adoration upon her face. “I don’t know what I’d like to do more, mother him or get on him!” 

“Oh,” you snort, shaking your head, “it’s the latter for me. I would ride that man all the way to town and back!”  

Your girls all cackle, huddling close, Joan the next to speak. “Would you, though? I mean, he’s a bit too sweet looking for me! Dunno if he’d have it in him, to be as much man as I’d need!” 

You turn to view him again, catching his eye. He gives you an appreciative sweep with his eyes, winking. Turning back to your friends, you beam widely. “He’s got it in him. I know we call him baby face, but there’s a demon lurking beneath. I know there is.” 

“A shilling says you’re wrong.” Reaching into her purse, Winnie pulls out the very coin itself, slapping it down on the table. Joan and Marjie follow suit. “Are you prepared to put your money where your mouth is?” 

Rifling in your bag, you remove your dainty little purse, taking out the coin and placing it with theirs. “I’ll put my money there. My mouth has other plans.” 

“Oooh, you dirty cat!” Winnie shrieks, her brother, the man you needed to accompany you to the pub in order to be served in the first place turning, tutting and shaking his head.  

“All alley cats, the lot of ya!” 

“Oh, pipe down, our Wilf,” she orders lightly, giving him a nudge where he’s turned in his seat at the next table over with his lad friends. “We’re only having a bit of fun!” 

A bit of fun. You can guess with almost certainty you’d receive exactly that from John Shelby. Turning again, you see he’s still at the bar, drinking with a couple of the lesser famed Blinders, once again catching your eye. He lifts his chin, holding your gaze fast while sipping his whiskey, placing his glass down and making a motion with his fingers for you to go over. Smiling, you remain in your seat. 

He can work a little harder than that.  

The excited squeaks of your friends – who of course witnessed it – tinkle through the air, Joan holding out a cigarette, lighting it for you, her eyes suddenly widening.  

“Baby face on his way over! This is not a bloody drill!” 

Your heart somersaults, but you remain calm, feeling him arrive at your side. “Evening, ladies. Having a good time, are ya?” 

Looking up at him, you’re near intoxicated out of your mind by his scent, his eyes so much more beautiful close up. God, he’s simply divine. “I could be having a better one.” 

“Oh, ar?” he chimes, raising an eyebrow as he idly chews upon his toothpick. “Anything I can help with?”  

Your girlfriends snort with giggles, John giving them a fleeting look of curiosity before his eyes fall back upon you. He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “How about I get another gin in that glass for ya, and we go from there?” 

You stand, licking your lips, watching his eyes flit down, his pupils inking a little. You have to stop yourself from diving on him right there and then. “Lead the way.” He offers his arm, and you take it to a little “ooooh!” chorus from your friends, turning to give them a scolding look. After being escorted from the bar and furnished with another drink, one drink leads to two, two to three, the evening flying by as you get to know the third Shelby brother a little better.  

You find him to be sweet and charming beneath the veil of hardened gangster, and, well, cheeky as hell.  

“I gotta hand it to ya, bab. Those are some cracking legs you’ve got,” he compliments with a wink, looking down and back up again, his cocky smile broadening.  

You lean in close to him, gliding a fingernail over his defined jaw. “Why thank you.” 

His intense gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, turning to press a little kiss to your fingertip. “Yeah, your legs look amazing, but they’d look even better wrapped around me.”  

The signals you’ve been giving to one another have all led to this point, your smile broadening in an instant. “I have lodgings above the shoe shop on Bennett Street. Want to come and see for yourself how good they’ll look around you?” 

You’ve never seen a man see off a fresh whiskey quite so fast before. “Lead the way, love.” You know the Shelby abode is closer than your little room above Mr. Smedley’s Shoes and Leather goods, but you’d prefer to be in your own space with a man you truly don’t know well at all. Outside, you fall into step at his side, taking his arm again, thinking how gentlemanly he is, right up until he suddenly pushes you into an alleyway.  

You feel a little anxious at first, but the way he looks at you. Oh, look. There’s the demon you knew was lurking beneath the surface, spitting out his toothpick before his mouth lands upon yours. His kisses are whiskey tinged and lust dripping, all sweet heat and need as he pushes himself against you. It’s imposing, but not intimidating, his want for you melding with yours as the sparks begin to crackle further into illumination.  

“Come on, mister. You’re not shagging me in an alleyway.” Grabbing his hand, you lead him back out to the street again, John releasing it to wrap an arm around your shoulders instead, your own extending around his waist. The balmy summer evening still warms the pale, inky violet of night, the air pleasant, the birds still twittering as they sit on the viaducts above, turning three corners before you end up on Bennett Street.  

John Shelby has never been so pleased to see a shoe shop in all of his life, and the spring in his step confirms it. If not, the way he begins to lay hot kisses upon your neck as you jiggle the key in the side door lock tells you plenty. The entrance to the two lodging rooms above the is separate from the shop itself, a narrow staircase taking you up a flight, turning right into an equally narrow passageway.  

“Bathroom is at the end there.” you point, unlocking the door to the left and opening it to reveal your modest dwelling.  

“It’s your bed I wanna know the way to more right now,” he breathes, shrugging his jacket off, his hands impatiently moving to you, smoothing over your body, mouth still furiously heated at your neck. God, the raw passion in him. It’s almost enough to make your knees buckle, feeling your dress come loose in his hands as you step out of your shoes, turning to kiss him.  

He backs you against the door, hands pawing at you urgently, kisses full-bodied and blistering with heat. Your hands begin the desperate devouring of clothes, having his shirt unfastened in haste to feel his skin against yours, your body smoothed and squeezed in a touch that leaves you breathless. Your fingers rain trails of exploration over his chest, and the noise he makes as his tongue swirls with yours is pure sin, his touch slipping to your undergarments.  

He fights against the lace, a hand slipping within, pulling a gasp from you when his fingers brush against the petals of your sex. You whine at the tease, and he smiles against your lips, pulling from the kiss to look at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, watching the need dance in your eyes. He relents his tease, his fingertips gently stroking the slick of your anticipation, your head thudding back against the door.  

The wood feels cool and steadying against your body, skin heating up rapidly, a summer tempest beginning to swell as the stroking of your bundle has you purring softly, John’s lips returning to yours. His body melds into your curves, his cock hard at your hip, his touch rousing the little bolts that spark up your spine. He draws all manner of sweet noises from you, and he swallows back every one of them in each kiss, his free arm locking around your waist.  

Lifting you, he carries your barely dressed form to the bed, throwing you down, removing the rest of his clothes as you impatiently pull yourself out of your undies, your stockings shimmied down, receiving his pale skinned, freckle flecked, gorgeous body between your legs. His kisses trail your eager flesh, shifting, hands wandering along the path his lips map, settling at your apex and delving within your folds with a keen, firm drag.  

The wet of each lick has little pin pricks skittering over your nerves, the warmth of it catching quickly, your edges caught in the heat of his flame. The roll of his tongue over your clit is slow and full of heat, hands kneading in soft clench upon your thighs, the outline of him through the dimness of your room gilded in the last of the summer light still reasonably visible.  

He is a feast for your eyes, his wide back and well-bounded bum so peachy, it invites you to sink your teeth into it, if you weren’t so lost in the delirium of his mouth pressed so keenly against your sex. The heat he evokes burns you to your marrow, the scald of your arousal growing as every flicker of his tongue sends flames skittering through you. The addition of his fingers pushing into your cunt has a sweltering flush of pleasure twining through you, your hands reaching to rest either side of his head. 

Neatly shorn stubble prickles at your fingertips, your back arching as he works you with hunger, your dew sparkling upon his fingers. He twists them in a way that has your mouth dropping open, a sound you scarcely believe came from you filling the air, John’s lips wrapping your clit in a suck that is a gentle crush of pillowy heat to begin with, the pull intensifying, little glimmers rushing through you until... 

“Oh!” It tears through you, sudden and overbearing, leaving you trembling, your release still rolling through you as his tongue slows, your fluttering walls pulsing around his fingers, withdrawing them as he sits up, inspecting his sodden hand. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell!” he rumbles, shaking the trails of slick from them, chuckling to himself. “Proper enjoyed that, didn’t ya?” He brings those fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean before grasping your thighs and yanking you closer to where he kneels, a predatory look glinting the blue of his eyes. “Think you’re ready to get fucked now, ain’t ya?” 

“You bloody better,” you mewl, hands trawling his arms as he lowers to you, placing kisses at your sternum. You can feel the head of his cock pressing for entrance, the tip breeching you, but all he gives is a mere inch before pulling back. His mouth closes over your nipple in a warm suck, pushing again, opening you around him, slipping back once more. Oh... you certainly were right. He’s a demon.  

“John, please,” you complain, and he has the gall to give you his most innocent, unassuming look. Damn that baby face.  

“Please what, bab?” 

You chuckle, but it’s pained, hissing a breath when his teeth close upon your nipple. “Please fuck me.”  

“I will, love,” he murmurs, mouth moving to your neck, tongue pressing against where your pulse flickers madly. “Eventually.” His teeth lock in another bite, cock breeching you again, a couple of inches parting your needy, soaking walls this time, twitching before abandoning you again. “Gonna make you desperate for it before I do, though.” 

“And to think, my friend thought you were so adorable,” you quip, body juddering beneath him, John laughing as his tongue swipes over the crescent of each breast, hands smoothing down your back.  

“Your friend don’t fucking know shit.” Indeed, she doesn’t. Your bet? Won already... and he’s barely been inside you.  

His merciless tease continues, and every second of it is agonising to your overstimulated body, your cunt streaming needily, yearning for him to simply fill you. When he finally does, you have to hope that Mr. Taggart, the other lodger there above the shoe shop is out for the night from the cadence of your wail, spread wide around the girth of the gangster who offers kisses steeped in sugared embers, fingers trawling through your hair.  

No matter how dangerous he is, you desire nothing more than to slap him when he retreats once more, chuckling at your pain. “Alright, fine,” he begins, turning you onto your side, moving to lie behind you. “I suppose I’d better play fair, save spitting me teeth.”  

He hauls your leg up so it rests in the cradle of his elbow, hand reaching to grasp his cock. He purposefully rubs himself along your slit, the gloss of your cunt smearing over his thick, veiny shaft, your whimpers reaching crescendo. You need him so badly, you are not above begging, but finally, he plunges into you fully, sating you beautifully. And oh, he feels sublime.  

His other hand reaches beneath your neck, turning your head to meet your lips in kisses that scald you, like a summer heatwave cutting through an arctic chill, moaning against your tongue as he arrows you so deeply, you see stars. The rhythm of his fuck is contained to begin with, each daggering into your soft, dripping warmth allowing you to feel every ridge of his cock, falling then into a tempo that has you gasping against his lips. 

The snap of his hips has your tits heaving, kissing back every little cry, telling you how good you feel around him, how beautiful you look while you’re getting fucked, moaning into your mouth as his hand slides down to begin stroking your clit in time with every deep thrust. You’re adrift from yourself, cast out onto the vast sea that begins to whirl, the storm that is John leaving you feeling unmoored entirely as he splits you deep and fucks you hard.  

“Come on, darlin’. Don’t be shy,” he encourages you, mouth moving to suck a purple welt upon your neck with a deep groan full of smoke and salt. “Let me hear you scream for me.”  

You feel the shiver in your muscles spread as he rails you relentlessly, his sweat slicked chest rubbing against your back as your voice breaks on the scream he fucks out of you, your waves flooding his shore as you come hard for him, every fibre of your being alight, twitching and beaming. He slows, giving you time to recover, sliding from you and turning you over, pulling your hips up before re-entering your molten core from behind.  

Your pleasure is still warming your bones as he begins to fuck you in all out, brutal carnal fury, groaning deep as he splits you around him, hands clasped at your hips, eyes fixed upon the sight of his cock rapidly assailing your soaking little hole. He pants hard, each twitch of his cock tightened upon by the clutch of your walls as he rapidly has you ascending again, coming with him as he paints your insides white, growling cusses as his release blinds him completely.  

You don’t even care about the three shillings you just won; all the prize you need is being turned and pulled into a set of strong arms, sharing kisses with your baby-faced demon as every drop of pleasure he so expertly bestowed upon you ebbs away.  

“Fancy letting me do that to you again sometime?” he asks, and you smirk immediately, turning him onto his back and seating yourself astride him. 

“You aren’t leaving here until you do it to me at least another three times,” you demand, leaning to kiss the centre of his chest, the vibrations from his chuckle tickling your lips.  

“Oh ar, bab. You can count on that.”  

#john shelby fanfiction #john shelby smut #john shelby x reader #john shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #joe cole #john shelby #peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion Very Happy Ending, Part 2

Hey y'all, so I did a part two of this because I love happy, insanely, fluffy romantic endings. So I'm going hard here. There will be one more part!

Also, don't judge my Gale x Shadowheart bs here 💀💀 Long story short, first playthrough that was abanadoned, I picked her orgin and did get sweeped up by the mage man. It has not left my brain since.

Also, this has a time skip! A pretty long one too (10 years)

~

Astarion had been having… thoughts lately. Ideas that he couldn’t quite shake. Nothing bad, no. There really wasn’t much to complain about in his life, not anymore. Not when he could walk in the sun freely, unburdened by parasites and his own vampiric nature. The two of you were free to explore the world with no shackles, not including your religious zealotry. And ironically enough, his own. 

Astarion would never have guessed that he’d ever become a Selune convert. Well… even now convert may have been to strong of a word. Yes, he was immensely appreciative for the whole sun immunity blessing and he did have a newfound respect for the work of her worshippers. But Astarion wasn’t exactly looking for a deity, or anyone, to be subservient to. Not again. No, he’d much rather watch his love do the dirty work for his savior than fully commit himself. Besides, just because he wasn’t devoted to Selune didn’t mean he wasn’t devoted to you. Which might as well have been the same thing. 

Astarion loved you, adored you really, but gods could you be nonsensical at times. He was so happy the two of you had met because someone had to keep this idiotic fanatic alive. Someone to remind you that no darling, not everyone is redeemable. Please put the goblin down.

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy being your protector. It was the least that he could do considering everything you’d done for him. And he just… liked having a valid excuse to accompany you everywhere. Astarion had never imagined himself to be such a clingy lover, but here he was. The two of you had been attached at the hip for nearly a decade now, with no end in sight. You had built a life together, had friends together, adventures and celebrations that filled his days with endless excitement and amusements.

That is one thing Astarion had to give Selune and her worshippers, they didn’t exactly lead boring lives. Though he supposed half of that had to with just how involved the opposition was. The two of you had slaughtered enough acolytes of Shar over the years for him to know just how covert they really could be. But it wasn’t just bloodsport that made things interesting, though it certainly did help. The exploring for ancient artifacts definitely helped to fill the time, as well as the constant search to find a cure for the rest of his unholy symptoms. 

As great as being in the sun was, Astarion wasn’t quite satisfied with that being the end. It was almost certainly impossible to find a full on cure to being a vampire spawn but… that wasn’t stopping either of you from looking for it. It was morbid, but Astarion wanted his life to have an ending. A natural one like what he hoped for you, not one where he was doomed to immortality and bloodlust until the end of time. 

Thank the gods that he had managed to fall in love with an elf. It at least gave him centuries instead of decades to figure out a solution to an eternal problem. Which brought him back to his current problem. Because the two of you had many, many years ahead. And as far as Astarion was aware you both planned on spending them with each other. Which implied… certain things.

Astarion had never been someone to fantasize about marriage. He had no reason to, not when he had been too busy barely surviving. Even when things became serious between the two of you it hadn’t been on his mind. He was much more concerned with keeping you at all instead of keeping you forever. 

But that had changed recently. Maybe it was because he had seen you officiate countless weddings over the years; young couples always clamoring at a chance to get a newlywed Selune blessing. Or maybe it was how others took note of the lack of a ring on his finger, taking it as an opportunity for unwanted flirtation. But either way, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Obsessing about it really, as he was want to do when it came to you.

He just… didn’t exactly know how to broach the subject. What was the reason? A silly little ceremony and a ring had no bearing on the depth of your relationship. He knew that. The two of you were bound to each other by choice, a love that felt as though it got stronger every day. But… it would be nice to have you in such a way. For the world to be aware of the seriousness of what you had together, shown simply through a pair of rings. And the thought of calling you his wife was quite enticing. 

He wasn’t quite sure why he was so hesitant to bring it up to you. Well… there was the slight delusional thought in his head that reminding you of forever could possible wake you up into realizing just how much better you could do than him. It wasn’t true, he was aware. But gods, your relationship had lasted a damn decade. When was he going to start feeling secure about all of this? 

It didn’t help when Gale of all people beat him to the punch. He and Shadowheart had developed quite the bond since your tadpole days. And your excitement over the announcement was adorable. Adorable enough for him to wonder just how you would react to it happening to you.

But he shoved his worries to the back of his mind, too busy being dragged all the way to Waterdeep for the week-long nuptials. You were highly involved in the wedding, which wasn’t exactly a shock. Shadowheart had stayed your best, most appreciated friend throughout the years, the two of you eternally tied through your shared goddess alone. You wrote to each other constantly and this was far from the first time you had dragged him across the realm for a visit. 

But this was probably the best time. He had to give the people of Waterdeep this, they knew how to celebrate. He wasn’t one to complain over a week filled of music, dance, and drink. The ceremony had been nice as well. Heart-warming even to watch Shadowheart walk down the aisle, smiling in a way she never could when she was devoted to Shar. With Gale sniveling at the other end and you officiating of course. 

The jealousy had been an unexpected touch. He couldn’t help but wonder what you would look like in her place. Dressed in white and silver, walking towards him with eternity in mind. 

It certainly wasn’t helping his dilemma, he could tell you that much. He was still thinking about it when they made it to the reception. It was impossible to bury thoughts of marriage when you were at a wedding. Would you want a large celebration like this? Or something more small and intimate? Hells, the two of you and a cleric in the middle of the woods would suffice to him. 

“To think, Astarion Ancunín at my wedding in the sunlight,” Gale laughed as he plopped down in the seat next to him, effectively putting an end to his internal fretting, “Who would have ever imagined?”

“Certainly not me,” Astarion scoffed with the slightest hint of a smile, “But I suppose things change.”

“I suppose they do,” Gale agreed, his eyes scanning the dancefloor for his new bride. There she was, dancing and giggling with you in the middle of ballroom,  “I just never expected it to be for the better.”

“It is a wonder that we’re all still alive,” Astarion agreed, smiling to himself when Shadowheart dipped you as you laughed hysterically, nearly falling over herself in the process, “Let alone being able to find love. Who would have thought the worshiper of the goddess of the dark would end up here.”

“Turns out she was hiding quite the personality behind the Shar mask,” Gale laughed, “Though I suppose we have Tav to thank for that. It was a real fight on who would have her as their best woman. A fight we both obviously lost. Though officiating seemed a good compromise.”

“She certainly has the experience,” Astarion sighed, “But I have a feeling this one will be her favorite. She’s happy for you two. We both are.”

“I’m happy for you too you know,” Gale added with a small smile, “I always thought the two of you would work out. I even made a killing in the pool we had going on for it.”

Astarion stared at him, brow raised, “You had a pool?”

“Oh absolutely,” Gale confirmed, completely shameless as he listed out the rules, “It got quite competitive after awhile. First, it was all about if you’d ever realize your feelings for her. Then when you went and did that we were betting on how long you’d both last before you left. And then when that didn’t happen, well. Let’s just say I got a few platinums richer.”

Astarion rolled his eyes at the news, barely even surprised, “I feel as though I’ve earned a cut of that.”

“Unfortunately it’s now our honeymoon fund. But I’ll owe you one.”

That was another aspect of this whole debacle that Astarion hadn’t even thought about. But gods, did it sound nice. Whole weeks dedicated strictly to the two of you. No religious duties or adventures to worry about, just… them. 

The joy of the thought must have shown on his face, because the next thing he knew Gale was looking him up and down, a small smirk on his lips, “What’cha thinking about over there?”

“That this wine is mediocre at best,” Astarion lied, avoid Gale’s eyes, “Tell me you at least got a good deal on it?”

But Gale wasn’t taking the bait. He was still watching him like a hawk. That was the problem with getting closer to people, and having, gods friends. 

You had to deal with the discomfort of being read like a book, “Does our little Astarion want to be wed?”

Astarion flinched at the accuracy, taking the time to shoot him a glare as he avoided the question, “I am nearly three centuries older than you.”

“Perhaps, but we both know two of them don’t count,” Gale said, barely missing a beat, “So tell me, do you already have a ring picked out?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I can help you pick one you know, there are many fantastic jewelers in Waterdeep. I believe she has the same ring size as Shadowheart, we can bring her along.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, ignoring the small blush creeping up his neck, “I want you to know that if this wasn’t your wedding day I would have slapped you by now. Consider my reluctance as your wedding present.”

“How generous of you,” Gale chuckled. But then he started to speak quieter, his voice taking on a more gentle and serious tone, “She would say yes you know. You’ve had her wrapped around your finger since the day you held that dagger to her throat.”

That was an exaggeration, but Astarion would be lying if he said the mention didn’t make him preen the slightest bit, “You forget that I did have competition.”

“Oh, barely,” Gale laughed, “You don’t get to reminisce of what could have been when you won. Gods, no one had any chance against you. And trust me, we tried.”

Astarion blinked at him, more than a little surprised, “You did?”

“Of course we did. We all did. What do you think Shadow and I bonded over? But the pining stopped eventually. Then it became…something more. Something deeper. She’s… a magnificent woman, my little shadow. Who has gone through too much…” Gale trailed off, his eyes still following his bride as he softly smiled,  “Suffice to say, neither of us are pining anymore. And I’m sure Shadow would love nothing more than to help plan her dearest friend’s nuptials.”

“Who ever said that you two would be involved?” Astarion scoffed, just to be an ass, “For all you know we’ll elope in Neverwinter.”

But Astarion’s grip backfired, if the smile on Gale’s face meant anything, “So that means you are going to propose?”

Oh for fucks sake. Astarion glared at him for the accuracy, at a loss for words. Besides it… it was true. Of course he was going to ask, where else would this fanatic line of thinking end? He just hadn’t expected Gale of all people to be the one to force him to admit it. 

“I-yes,” Astarion sighed, finally giving in, “Are you happy now? Yes, I’m going to.”

“Extremely,” Gale grinned, “Because you just won me another three hundred gold.”

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #cute bullshit #proposal planning #yeah we're getting married #who can stop me #you can't #fluff #fluffy fluffy fluff

[pinkishcupid]

𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫

Divider credit to plutism ln here, please go check them out!!

-author’s note : my first fanfic in here ahhh, please excuse me for my grammar I tried going through the fic and fix any mistakes of mine since English isn’t my first language, nonetheless I hope y’all enjoy it & reblogs are appreciated <3

-fandom; poppy playtime

-pairing; dogday x reader, it can be taken as romantic or platonic

-genre; fluff ig

They always said angels were the most divine beings among god’s creations, and dogday couldn’t agree more.

 In the depths of the hell that was the old playtime co. Factory, to see a kind soul was such a refreshing thing to be witnessed by the big hound, especially a soul willing to throw themselves in the face of danger to save others despite the possibility of dying , but you didn’t have a problem with that as you helped of the old toys like poppy & kissy missy, and he was no exception.

Ever since the moment you saved him, dogday wouldn’t stop calling you “angel”; even after learning your real name, because to him you truly was one, and his words even became more true in his eyes once you tried your hardest to sew his legs back into his upper body after finding them, with the help of poppy & kissy missy of course, and luckily for you & him the sewing operation was successful.

 With his legs back intact to his body it took dogday a couple of days to regain his ability to walk and some of his strength, you guessed it would take him a good while for him to return to his normal self; way before his legs were ripped off, but to dogday he had to repay you for your acts of kindness somehow, and to him the only way to repay it is by trying to be as much useful as possible to the team.

  “I already told you dogday, please rest”, you proceeded to say to the big hound who was looming behind you, but to dogday it wasn’t convincing enough, “but angel please let me accompany you, it can be dangerous out there!” He replied back with a mix of stubbornness & worry about your well being, you just sighed due to how the argument between you two just went back & forth without any winning end, so you decided to end it by sucking it up & letting him win.

  “Fine you can come with me, but don’t try to tire yourself, okay? The stitches on your body hadn’t fully healed yet”, you said to him now being the defeated end of the argument, dogday’s smile widened as his tail wiggled in excitement, he answered back happy with your answer, “you can count on me angel!”, He then walked past you leading the way through the dark hallway that led out of the safe space you & your team resided in, you didn’t reply but you simply smiled at how adorable his response was, because how couldn’t you say no to him? As you snapped back into reality as dogday called out for you to follow him, you gave him a thumbs up as you followed his lead with that smile he adored the most.

 Unknowingly to you, a big reason of the way dogday acted a bit protective over you;  was because being beside was like heaven to him, it felt like he was being greeted by one of the many doors of heaven, as one of them opened upon him showing him only light like the amount of hope you gave him, that there’s still a chance for a better future outside of this old factory for old broken toys like him.

  and he knew for sure he wouldn’t let such a bliss like you slip away from his paws easily.

Made by pinkishcupid

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday #poppy playtime x reader #dogday x reader #dogday x y/n #Riniwrites

[broadwaytheanimatedseries]

Okay but hear me out!

Dead On Main Revolutionary Ghost Utena AU:

Canonically, Jason focuses his rage to summon the All Blade

Ghost Prince Danny would have the Ring of Rage, but not the Crown of Fire yet

I hypothesize to you that the two are connected, and not only that, but that wearing the ring allows one to draw the All Blade out of the other. Like, literally.

Because of this, summoning the All Blade of their own accord is the mark of a ghost powerful enough to be the ghost king's betrothed, and whatever other ghosts were in the running are pushed back in line as the All Blade wielder is now at the front.

It is part of ancient ceremony that predates Pariah as Ghost King and dates all the way back to the first Royal of the infinite realms, King Lazarus.

The connection itself is no more than a pull towards each other, a fascination at most to make an easier base to build a genuine and in this case, human connection.

To become actually engaged Jason would have to willingly appear before the Ghost Prince and allow him to draw the All Blade out of him, something he is not very excited for and might actually have other lasting impact besides the engagement.

Y'see Jason isn't a halfa the way Danny is, he came back twice in a short amount of time between those two instances, and while the second time was Lazarus induced, no one really knows how he woke up in his grave and broke himself out. There are theories but Clockwork was watching and even he doesn't seem to know for sure, so it's really anyone's guess.

So what the engagement ceremony could do, potentially, is either solidify his halfa status by sheer amount of ectoplasm transfered by the act, or alternatively it could just kill him on the spot and then he'd probably become a full ghost.

Now, neither of these sound great to Jason, but he also doesn't like that a bunch of ghosts have been trying to fight him for their Prince's hand in marriage, something they can only do while the Prince is still not engaged to anyone.

Meanwhile, Danny doesn't appreciate that as soon as he came of age all these marriage proposals started being thrown at him, he's known some of these ghosts since he was a teenager so that's really weird for one, and he gets that most of them are just trying to secure their happiness and not to mention their future safety as the mortal world seems to be moving on with the anti ecto act, which had lead many a specter to retreat back to the realms, causing a lot of unrest as the realms become more crowded and politically tense between factions who have not needed to interact for a while now.

It would seem the Amity portal and even Danny fighting the ghosts and sending them back through it was the break many of the realms' denizens desperately needed, but now with that option no longer being safe, as even their king can't protect them from the GIW when they're gaining so much support from governments across the world, tensions are running high in the realms and it seems that it's every ghost for themselves.

Danny doesn't really resent any of the ghosts for doing what they feel they must to make sure they aren't destroyed in what is shaping out to be a realms wide war at this point, even as he works overtime with his council to prevent that from happening, and he understands they obviously don't expect any actual marital kind of relationship from him, which is at least a little reassuring even if the idea of being married to any of them is still very weird, but he can't help but think there could be a better solution here that he's missing.

And then he feels it, a pull telling him he's overlooked something, someone important.

It's like a fire engulfing his ice core but not burning it somehow, just as it does not cool the fire around it.

Two opposite forces meant to cancel each other out, somehow instead keeping perfect equilibrium with one another.

He talks to Frostbite and Clockwork and finds out what that pull is and takes their advice to follow it.

Jason doesn't realize he just altered the source of all his recent problems to his location as he draws the All Blade to fend off yet another "challenger to the Prince's hand" whatever the hell that means, as finally one of them was dumb enough to try to use actual magic against him.

However, he soon feels the answering pull back from Danny as the latter decides to use the power in his ring to open the portal, feeling that this candidate should at least know he's coming to talk to him.

It's almost the opposite, he feels the fire of the pit madness flaring a bit, but instead of immediately trying to spread, to threaten to consume him unless he tempers it himself, it is still burning just as strong and wild, but kept in one place by an icy chill, an aura of cold, clear fury and calm in equal measure, it doesn't thaw from the fire anymore than his fire dies from the lack of heat around it.

They sustain each other, impossibly.

So Jason and Danny finally meet and give each other the rundown of their side of things and agree that maybe the best bet to not only stop ghosts from attacking Jason and proposing to Danny, but perhaps the key to overthrowing the GIW so the realms' denizens don't have to afterlive in fear and portals can be reinstated to allow travel through the realms and back, not to mention keeping the GIW from going after Jason himself who by their definition is certainly considered an ecto entity, is in fact to go through with the Ring and Blade ceremony.

Jason, at this point, is more of Earth than Danny, who has unfortunately had to step back from his normal mortal life when he turned 18 to take care of realms business, despite still only being Prince.

He was meant to have more time but with the GIW advancing like they had been it was in the realms' best interest as well as his own that he decree the realms going no contact with humans for the foreseeable future.

It's been nearly 3 years since then and they are still getting ghosts back from parts of the world who have been avoiding humans as much as they can.

As soon as he turned 21 all this ghost marriage nonsense has has been making his job of protecting the ghosts in all the realms a lot more difficult, so when ghosts realized he didn't want to be challenged every day for his hand, they went to the next best thing, the top candidate.

Now, Phantom was saying that he's gonna marry the guy they've all been trying to defeat (and failing, to his credit, so at least he was worthy of being top pick)

A lot of them were upset or disappointed, but he explained how this arrangement could potentially help out everyone in the long run and most got on board when they heard the new plan.

Now the only problem is that getting engaged, as mentioned previously, is a ceremony that could prove dangerous to Jason and "not to be insensitive about it, but if you die and become a ghost that sorta defeats one of the main purposes of us even doing this." Danny points out.

"So what's our plan, Your Majesty?" "It's Royal Highness, I'm not king yet, thank the ancients for that." "Yeah yeah, so what are we doing, Your Royal Whinyness?" "Rude. Anyway, there's a chance you might become a full halfa during the process, that means getting a second form and a fully developed core and powers besides the All Blade, which would be better than you dying. So the best way to ensure that outcome, as much as any outcome can be guaranteed anyway, is to start the process of making you a halfa before the ceremony."

"Okay? How do we do that?" "Well, we gotta get some ecto in you - " "aren't you made of that? This better not be a pickup line" "no, not like that! I told you, this marriage doesn't have to be anything more than a contract, I'm about as thrilled about having to get married to save my people as you are about doing this to stop ghost from kicking your ass on a weekly basis." "Excuse me? I won all those fights!" "Yeah, after getting tossed into brick walls 5 times per ghost" "not every ghost tossed me into walls. Box Bitch did throw crates at me tho, that hurt." "Holyshit, Boxy is not messing around anymore huh? Well, makes sense, he's a father now. He doesn't wanna raise his little girl in these conditions. Still glad he lost, but I'm surprised Lunch Lady even agreed to him trying."

So they start Jason on his ecto diet and in the meantime the batfam is brought up to date about everything that's happening and they get to work, Batman gathers the JL to push back on the GIW's fuckery and all of Jason's siblings have an engagement party and a bachelor bash to plan. The girls decide to plan a Bachelorette party for Danny because he deserves to have a break as well.

Jason hates his stupid family, but Danny seems happy to be part of one again after so long, so he sucks it up and plays along.

It's possible that maybe while preparing and planning and helping each other and working together, Jason has gotten to know and developed a fondness for Danny.

Okay so maybe he's a sappy fuck who fell head over heels in love with him in the span of like a month, but this is still just a contract to Danny, and Jason isn't going to push for or expect anything more. Danny doesn't need that kind of stress in his life rn.

Danny has been freaking out since he met his soon to be husband because holyshit that's Red Hood, that is THE Red Hood! No wonder he passed the trial of the All Blade, and the way that fire burned around Danny's core, a fire he now recognized as the warmth answering from Jason's own, made him realize that this is way more than just a contract to him. Still, he'd been part of the realms for a lot longer than Jason ans he was their future king. Jason as part of this contract would be his equal but until the marriage was sealed, he was still technically Jason’s superior. And it didn't feel right to take adventage of that and suddenly change the terms of this deal, to make Jason in any way feel pressured by Danny's own feelings. No, this was just a contract, like Jason wanted it to be. He would keep that promise to him.

Jazz and Babs get together to help their idiot baby brothers figure out their unrequited love is actually very much mutual pining and they're just being stupid.

Anyway the marriage ceremony is a different ritual from the engagement ceremony, the All Blade wielder summons it and presents it to the wearer of the ring, who sheaths it back into the summoner's core, symbolizing that they both have power over the Blade but it belongs to its wielder, and even the king himself may not keep it without permission. The Blade as a manifestation of Jason's will.

(And as a bonus, we know Jason is a literary nerd so he recognizes and appreciates the romance novel tropes happening to him, especially in the high king's court, but he is not a weeb. So I don't think he'd recognize the Utena references happening to him. But you know who I think would? You know who is a weeb who loves swords and is soooo jealous of Todd and his husband right now? It's Damian. Damian's fucking seething that he doesn't get a magic sword. He's so pissed and it's very funny.)

#dee's aus #dee writes #dc x dp #dead on main #ghost king danny #ghost bride Jason #rgu inspired au #mostly just the imagery #very loosley based on Prince Utena and Rose Bride Anthy #this was supposed to be just a silly goofy haha idea but now its got so much lore

[notroosterbradshaw]

The Boyfriend Experience - Part 2 /2

7k words of Rooster being your super wonderful, pretend plus one! A few swears, but it’s the Navy, goddammit! The fluffiness should make up for it. 

The Boyfriend Experience 1 / 2

“Thank God you didn’t catch the bouquet,” Rooster rolled his eyes as you wandered back, bored. "Could you look any less interested?" he bit back a smile.

“I could, yes," you told him, patting his cheek with a gentle thwack as he chuckled.

”Well, you made sure I didn't have a run there to fake propose in front of all these witnesses. Left my fake engagement ring in my dresser drawer back at base,” he snapped his fingers. "Fuck."

"You'd have really ruined this wedding if you proposed. Even you must know the lack of decorum of proposing at someone else's wedding. You probably wouldn't need to go to those extremes," you laughed quietly.

He nodded and grinned. "I'd guarantee you a life of no more wedding BS though."

"You're probably right. How long you been sitting on that?”

"Just came to me," he admitted. "But you can't tell me it's not an amazing idea to get everyone off your ass."

"Thank you for not going to those lengths," you said as his head fell back and he kept giggling. Yes, Rooster was a giggler after a few drinks. And it was adorable.

Looking back at you, he said, "I guess we're almost done though. Since I have this," Rooster grinned widely, flinging the bride’s baby blue garter at your face. You flicked it right back and he caught it easily. He'd mortified you that he'd made such a spectacle to get his mitts on it earlier in the evening - he literally speared a dude to get to the front and leapt over the Best Man to catch it. "My Little League coach would be so proud today."

"You're the worst," you reached for his whiskey as he looked on proudly.

"You disappointed us as a couple and missed the bouquet to boot but I forgive you because you've graduated to a very sexy drink. That's my girl," he raised his eyebrow, waiting patiently for your sip, which you did gladly.

"You're such a dick," you could only respond, handing the glass back as he chuckled, putting the garter back in his breast pocket, patting it safely.

"Taken you 30 years to figure it out - that's more on you than me though," he teased.

"Last song of the night, friends," the MC of the band announced as Rooster offered you his hand. "Your bride and groom are ready to kick into matrimonial bliss part of the night and we all have to head home at some point!"

"You're not getting out of this. It's our last dance as fake lovers," he said, giving you the creepiest bedroom eyes, or you supposed, that you’d ever seen. How had he managed to bed so many women if that was his game, you'd never know (you assumed it was probably a lot less effort than batting his lashes, to be completely honest), and you shook your head with a smile. He stood to his full height and offered you his calloused palm. You naturally accepted, lacing your fingers through his. You loved the warmth his hands gave yours.

"Can you never say 'lovers' again?" you asked, spirited, as he spun you under his arm, leading you to the dancefloor, laughing loudly.

"Never," he promised as the song began. The band started Elvis' "I'm All Shook Up", most people in the room made their way to the dancefloor and Rooster praised the gods. You liked the song but loved the joy it clearly stirred in Rooster more. You adored how much he loved music, though he admitted he was never taught piano, guitar, or even drums but was pretty good at each of them, or he liked to think so. He played by ear and enjoyed experimenting with sounds. You'd romanticised Rooster playing at home in the quiet, just for himself, tinkering with keys, strumming strings. It made you kind of weak to think of him creatively like that. He was certainly full of surprises and you were yearning to know more.

He was unlike anyone you knew - you'd learned so much tonight and appreciated the human he was more than just the talented pilot most assumed of him, you thought maybe he appreciated people thought he was fairly one-dimensional, he liked his space and privacy. "New one to learn for the bar?" you offered as he pondered the question.

"Shit, maybe," he contemplated with a nod and he pulled you close. While not an incredibly slow song, Rooster actually moved quite well. Yet another thing you had learned about him tonight and he pulled your back to his chest, keeping you pressed to him, his hands spreading across your belly, keeping a respectful amount of space between your bodies. He took your hand and spun you back to him, facing the other again and he smiled slow, a smile you'd certainly never seen before but enjoyed thoroughly as his hands moved to the back of your ribs, dragging you closer to him.

He loosened a hand and put your arms around his neck, the height difference between you bringing your body crushed against him and it felt kind of... perfect.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, just between the two of you. He smiled faintly, his hands caressing your back. Once he'd found access to skin, his hand kept a close touch all night and your back felt cold without it.

"It's really me that should be thanking you," he admitted, lips dangerously close to your ear and you'd deny it, but it shook you to the core. Looking at him, your feet stopped moving and the world may have stopped too. Here he was, right in front of you, just like he always had been... but he was completely new to you now. "I haven't had a night like this in a really long time," he continued earnestly. "Almost felt like a real date."

You had lost the ability to talk, because thinking about it later, you'd realise, this was the first of many nights like this. But it wouldn't pretend anymore. He would be yours, and you would be his right back. And the pretence would be gone; traded for romance that didn't need to be held back, touches on skin that meant something because it was their skin you'd touched so many times before, still able to draw the same spark as it had tonight.

Rooster's lips met your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss against your skin and you held him just a little bit tighter. "I got you, kid," he told you softly but wasn't quite sure why he added, "You're safe with me."

And you may have believed him.

"Do you two want a lift?" Annie asked as the festivities started to come to a close. The bride and groom had left, guests were starting to organise themselves to do the same, the band was packing up and the music was over for the generic 'get the fuck out of our venue now' muzak. After your last duties for the evening to help Sarah's parents collect the gifts and load their car, you went back to the table to collect your belongings, thankful it was all finally over... as well as the evening.

It was a long day, and saying you were exhausted, physically, mentally... emotionally, was an understatement. Things were a bit muddled to you now and you were feeling a little unhinged at the growing flutters in your tummy while so close to Rooster. He was currently holding your bouquet and your clutch like it was absolutely no big thing.

"Rooster, I don't think you should drive. I can get you both back. I'm the designated driver for another three weeks and one day," she looked at her belly, accusingly. "Unless you'd like to come sooner, please?"

"Shit," he muttered. He had probably had one or two drinks too many, he realised. Palming his keys in his pants pocket, he replied he would just walk back to base. Wasn't at all far, he had his credentials. Fresh air would sober him up anyway.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Thank you though. I'm sure your little sister will get me back safely," he joked entirely for Annie's benefit. But your feet, your poor feet were shredded. You gave yourself kudos, you'd done the right thing and kept your heels on the duration of the day, but all you could imagine was peeling them off and preparing for the onslaught of blisters and discomfort as soon as humanly possible.

"Okay," she grinned. "Take care, Rooster," she hugged him and he hugged her back, trying to avoid her baby bump politely. "So good to see you."

"You too, Annie," he replied fondly. "I had a great night."

"Don't be a stranger when you're in town. Let's do this again soon. Come over for dinner, bring her," she nodded to you.

"I might," Rooster gave her a shy smile and Annie hugged him again. "I'm thinking of moving back so you may be seeing a bit more of me anyway," he said and your ears pricked up, this was brand new information and your palms may have clammed up a little.

"You should, everyone would be so happy you're home," she told him.

"Definitely thinking about it," he promised.

"Good, Please get my sister home safely?" she warned him.

"Of course, she's precious cargo," he smiled as Annie kissed you and waddled over to Arron, her extremely drunk hubby.

"I could have gone with that lift," you told him as you watched them leave. Your poor feet.

"Nah, you're okay," he said. "Let's go for a walk."

"Rooster," you protested. "I might cry."

Rooster pouted. "Then I'll piggyback you," he broke into a smile as a few of the single bridesmaids said goodnight to you both. "Come with me. Got an idea," he urged, nodding towards the door, not waiting for you and taking off in his strides in that direction. Moving as quick and gracefully as the heels would allow, you caught him at the door where he took your hand and you followed him to the beach. It was pitch black minus the moon's reflection on the water, nearing midnight when he stopped at the edge of the grass to sand and watched him unbutton his jacket to sit. You did the same. "Feet, please?" he asked quietly.

Confused, you weren't sure why you offered him your left foot, but his fingers made haste unbuckling the silver heel you had been wearing for hours and hours.

"Gentle," he told himself as he pulled the off, and held his palm out for your other foot that you gratefully offered, the relief almost instantaneous. Putting your heels together, he lightly pressed into the arches of your feet, your ankles, your calves, the pain worth it for a few moments, looking at you with a gentle frown to make sure he wasn't hurting you, but it was definitely worth it. "Okay?" you nodded as he slipped off his jacket and left it in a pile with your shoes, purse and bouquet. He unlaced his loafers, took his socks with them and cuffed his slacks up to his lower calf although there was little give to them. "Shit," he muttered, pulling at the wrong piece of his bowtie and knotting it tighter.

"Here, Roost," you said softly, sitting up to kneel, he watched you in keen interest as your fingers worked to loosen the tie. Knowing he'd made it worse before it unravelled under your touch, you smiled as he happily unbuttoned the first few holes on his shirt, showing a little of his strong, golden chest and a light smattering of dark hair.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Up," he got up slowly, finding the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt and rolling both to his muscular forearms. He smiled, offering his hand. He pulled you up, your sore feet sending you careening into him softly. He nodded towards the water and followed you through the sand.

The night was cool, but in the height of summer, not unbearable by any stretch of the imagination. Stopping right before the waves, you looked back at him.

"I promise you, those feet will feel a million bucks in about 15 seconds," and he hitched you into his arms, taking you out to his knees, lowering you amid squeals of cold and a now damp skirt around your thighs. He didn't give you space, he stood behind you, his hands resting on your belly, chin on your hair. You felt him sigh behind you.

"Dammit, Rooster," you cursed him although grinning in the madness, trying not to shiver as the waves splashed around you. It was a little chillier in the water than you would have liked, but Rooster was close and he was almost radiator hot. "It's f-f-freezing," you chattered.

"It's the ocean at midnight," he said in your ear. "What were you expecting?" he posed a good question. "But your feet don't hurt now, do they?"

"Actually, I can't feel them... because they're numb," you replied, your toes thumbing in the sand beneath you, it grounded you and felt so familiar. You loved it, craved it. The grains felt good and if you squinted, you could almost avoid the slight needling of your feet as they started to relax and unwind.

"You're the water," he murmured to you quietly, his voice lower than the ocean's bustle around you. "I know I'm the clouds. But you're the ocean. You need it. I've always known that about you. I see you some mornings down here, in the waves if I run late. I never see a crease or concern on your features, you're just one with the water. It's pretty sexy, actually."

You wished he'd stop talking because as he adjusted his hold on you, leaving one hand on your hip, the other arm wrapping around your shoulders, you only reaffirmed how good you fit against him. "I love that," you admitted, taking his hand and he sighed again. He was right, though cold, this was your happy place. This is where you desired to be, in the water and the freedom and terror that came with it, how it could make you teeter so easily and push you out of your comfort zone. And he knew all about it.

Above you, Rooster smiled to himself. He was starting to really enjoy holding you close, learning the curves of your body, how you could find the perfect place to find calm in his arms. "Hey?"

"Hmm?"

"I had a really good time tonight. It... didn't feel forced or contrived. Why haven't you and I done this before?"

Because we didn't see each other this way before Natasha threw us together, you wanted to say. We can laugh, we can play and have fun, team against anyone and not think anything of it... but tonight has categorically changed our friendship because I can't go back to just being your friend, Rooster. I think it would be easier to lose you than find out you didn't want to be with me this way again.

You stayed silent, you had just tortured yourself with your inner monologue as it was. "You are absolutely shaking," Rooster said, softly, maybe now regretting his idea and his fat fucking mouth just a little. "I think it's time to get you out of the water."

"I'm okay," you lied as he rubbed your arms where he could see the goose pimples rise. He couldn't stop the shuddering even in his stranglehold.

"Out you get, kid."

You nodded thankfully. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was not enough to keep you warm and only caused you to tremble more. "Sorry," you said as he released you from his clutches and moved before he could say anything else.

And just like that, the moment passed.

Rooster sighed, watching you make your way to the beach. He knew he'd scared you. You knew he was opening his heart to you, and just like Natasha joked about your commitment fear, maybe it wasn't too far off the mark and that made him sad for all that you had missed and what you could miss out on. He began to follow you as you sat back near all the gear you'd removed, closing in on yourself. Rooster ran the last little while up the beach and retrieved his jacket, putting it over your shoulders. "You okay, kid? You're blue."

"Can't stop shaking," you could only reply and he swore he heard your teeth chatter. "But I'm okay."

"Come on, let's get you home," he tossed all the gear except the flowers into his jacket and tucked it under his arm then offered you his hand to help you up. He used a little more force, driving you into him and he wrapped you into his arms - he was very good at bringing you close and he knew, not once had you fought it. "I didn't want to scare you before. I'm sorry I was so forward."

You gave a little shrug. "Don't worry about it, Rooster. I'm just a big girl with big problems," you said simply.

"Do you think you know... why you don't want to get close to me?" he asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

You looked up at him and he knew the kicker was coming. "You have I have very different daddy issues," you told him. "When my dad left, I thought he'd come back. For years I thought I could try and make him want us again... but my sister and I weren't enough and if he could leave us, who he was supposed to love so fucking easily, it doesn't give you much confidence as an adult. He picked another family over us, I have other siblings I don't even know. The shit sticks."

Holy shit, Rooster thought, his knuckles rubbing against your back. He paused and held you tightly. He didn't know that... hell, he did but certainly not to that deep an extent and maybe your issues were a little more deeply rooted than Natasha had alluded to. He certainly couldn't blame you for that.

"You mean something to me, and ruining anything with you would destroy me," you continued. "I appreciate our friendship and that comfort that brings me."

He nodded. It felt like a kiss-off, that was for sure. "I wasn't asking for the rest of our lives," he said quietly.

"I know," you pulled back, needing to be completely out of his reach. "But I just don't know what to tell you right now."

"And that is the end of our first fake date," Rooster said, hating to admit he was kind of relieved as you got back to your apartment. He followed you to the front door and wanted you to feel as safe as you could in his presence because you hadn't said it... but everything had changed, and he knew it too. He didn't expect the night to go like this, but he knew, like you... things couldn't be the same again now.

You gave him a gentle smile and his heart fluttered, he'd always loved your smile, but shit... it was his now. He left your heels neatly at the stoop. "I hope today wasn't a total bust for you. Now you know how good I am at ruining good things," you poked fun at yourself. "It's a wicked character trait."

He sighed, dropping his eyes. "Why would you think that being honest with me would ruin anything?" he had to ask, putting his hands in his pockets. "Don't you think I appreciate that more?"

"I dunno," you leaned back against the door as he looked back at you, chewing your lip and God, he wanted to be the one chewing that lip. Vulnerability to most people could be seen as a red flag but to him? You were telling him things that you'd never told anyone, and that was almost sacred and it would always mean more. He knew you trusted him, but made him uneasy that it wasn't with your heart. "Do you?"

He rolled his eyes, a faint grin on his face. "Yes. I do appreciate that more. I've learned more about you tonight than I have in the last 30 years, which is kind of awesome... and terrifying."

"Terrifying?" you repeated, a little disappointed as he stepped closer.

"If you think for one second that you scaring me is a bad thing, you are kidding yourself," of this he was certain. He wasn't scared to be out of his comfort zone with you.

You finally smiled and shook your head gently. "I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you, Rooster. I owe you, big time."

"Don't be crazy. I drank top-shelf booze, ate more cake than I have eaten for years, and I got to spend my night with you. We'll call it even."

"Well, thank you. It really meant a lot. And it won't happen again, there are no weddings or other OTT celebrations in the foreseeable future."

"That's a shame," he laughed quietly.

There was a slight beat before your rationality kicked in. "Well, I should go in," you told him, pushing back off the door and reaching for your keys in your clutch. "I'm sure you've got an early morning."

"Class," he acknowledged.

You nodded. There would always be something. "Goodnight, Rooster," you said as you unlocked the door and took a step in before pausing. Rationality be damned. "Unless you wanna come in?" you called softly in the dead quiet of the night. You could see his brain working a million miles a moment.

This wasn't something you and Rooster did, you didn't hang out together this way, it was always in a group, always someone else to play the distraction. "Yeah, I really do," he admitted,  standing before you. The air around you had changed and you swore it wasn't just you that noticed it. For the first time tonight, his nervousness was evident and he put his palm on your cool cheek. Licking his lips, he admitted, "I really wanna come in," he said quietly, resting his forehead against yours.

His eyes searched yours as you pushed the door open and your hand found his. He followed willingly, quietly kicking the front door closed as you led him down the small hallway to your living room. Low lit from the lamp you'd left on for your late arrival, Rooster was interested to check out your place. Quaint, but it was quintessentially you. Linen in neutral and blue, a stash of books on the coffee table. A home. "Do you want a drink?" you asked.

Erring on the side of caution, he responded 'water'. He was starting to cut it fine of being in a proper state for the following morning and while he could take his liquor, the last thing he wanted was a hangover in an F-18. You came back to him with a cool glass and he gave you a small smile of thanks. He tossed his suit jacket on the end of the couch, finally happy to be rid of the silly thing.

"Do you mind if I get changed? This dress is clogged with sand, it's wet and damp."

"Course not. Go make yourself comfy," he said with a small smile as he watched you walk away before he preoccupied himself with the endless photos on your wall. A tasteful aesthetic of beautiful white frames with a mix of colour and black and white photos stored in them, he felt the love and consideration you'd put into the curation of images. And holy shit, if it wasn't you on his Mom's hip. You were crying and she was trying to appease you in any way she could. He took the photo from the wall and you wandered back a few minutes later, hair down, oversized Lakers t-shirt and you saw what he stared at.

"Mom said I had just been told I couldn't get an ice cream from the ice cream truck," you filled him in. Rooster actually laughed.

"That's the cutest fucking thing I ever heard."

"And Carole was trying to tell me she could get me ice cream from your place even though my mom was saying no, but I didn't want it anyway because it didn't come from the ice cream man. Naturally."

"That's amazing. This is about the last photo I would have ever expected to have seen, you know?"

"You can have it if you want. I mean, I'm a screaming three-year-old, but your mom looks absolutely beautiful."

"Always," he said softly and put the photo back carefully on the wall. "You keep it, it gives me something to see when I am here."

You shrugged easily and took a seat on the couch. He took a hint and went to join you, taking a cool sip of water to regulate. This was just not how he saw the night going. Sure, he was a man, he had eyes in perfect working order. He wouldn't lie and say he hadn't memorised every curve of your body, your smile and that absolutely devastating self-deprecating wit but there were plenty of other distractions in his wake. But here you were, right before him. And you, at that moment, were perfect but he didn't know what you wanted from him and it ate him alive.

"What time is class tomorrow?"

"Eight," he replied.

You gently reached for his hand, avoiding his eyes and tracing over the callouses and his lifelines. "I'm sorry about before," you said finally. "I am really good at finding ways to make a night nosedive."

He shook his head, laying an arm against the length of the couch in hopes you'd shift just a little closer again. "No, fuck no. Please don't apologise."

"You know more about me tonight than most people know in a lifetime. I'm really not the sharing kind."

"That... I knew," he with a smile. "I kind of figured we were a bit alike that way anyway. But it gives me a little bit of hope. I'll weasel my way in," he said confidently. "You'll regret opening yourself up to me," he teased as you laughed heartily.

"Using my trauma against me," you fist-pumped and he was so relieved you could see the funny side to it as he scooted a little closer since you didn't. "Awesome."

"I promise I never would do that," he said sincerely. "I have enough baggage to take everyone in this damn town out."

"That's true," you agreed. "What a mess we are."

"You're not a mess. You have your reasons, just like I do," he let go of your hand and reached into his shirt, pulling out his dog tags. "These have been driving me mad all night. Think they're imprinted into my chest..."

"Can I see?" you asked as he shrugged and slipped it over his head, gently putting it over yours and letting the tags jangle across your heart. You picked it up and looked at the imprints of his name. "Bradley N. Bradshaw," you spoke. "What do you think your parents were thinking when they gave you more or less the same first and last names?"

He laughed loudly. "Bradley was my mom's dad's name," he explained. "And it was the 80's. I guess they thought it just sounded cool. They didn't think of what it might be like for me at 34."

You grinned, tracing the bumps of his ID. "I forgot what these felt like. Dad's, Grandpa's. Having them in my hands like they were a toy, and what they really stand for."

Rooster didn't speak. He understood what you meant without having to go into it.

"Roost?"

He hummed in reply.

"Have you thought about settling down?"

"I've thought about it," he shrugged simply. "I haven't really found anyone who I want to settle down with. Last thing I want is something that doesn't last. I want to feel like my parents did - I can hardly remember it... but the way Mom spoke about Dad after he died? That's something to strive for, you know? I know she was sick... but she really died of a broken heart in the end," he said quietly.

Holy shit... you thought.

"When I find the one, I'll know," he added, taking your hand back into his and this time, he avoided your gaze as he drew circles around the pads of your palm. "I'm sure of it." He was sure of it.

"And here I was thinking you loved being a bachelor and the notoriety of the Navy," you said, and he appreciated the teasing as he laughed, scratching his neck.

"I mean, yeah. There are some benefits to not settling," lifting his gaze back to you, he pondered again. "I'm not really that guy that falls quickly."

You nodded, you knew what that felt like and you knew he was growing weary of sharing hour, so you decided to make things more interesting. "I've asked Natasha this and was not remotely surprised with her response. But I'll ask you too because I know you wouldn't lie to me... What's the greater thrill: flying... or fucking, Rooster?"

Rooster chuckled quietly. "That is going directly for the jugular," you saw his lips move, but sounds didn't follow through. "I love flying," he looked up. "My fate is sealed, but the right person? Jesus, fucking the right person could make you wanna give it all up, you know?"

"No, I don't," you pressed, your brain trying to decipher his answer. "That's why I asked."

He smiled, a small tint of red creeping up to his cheeks. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I think I like making you squirm," you said simply as dropped his eyes, coy all of a sudden.

"Oh, I get it now," he thought about it. "If it was life and death, I would, I can't believe I'm saying this... but I'd fly."

"Oh, my God," your jaw may have hit the floor. It just was not the response you were expecting but told you a lot about Rooster's priorities.

"As I said, if it was the right person..." he tried to over-correct himself as you bit back your grin, covering your mouth with your joined hands.

"I'm speechless," you continued to needle him.

"Okay, if this is the little game we want to play - " he announced, smacking the top of your hand.

Oh, fuck.

"My turn, then," he said straightening up and you panicked, and he grinned because he could see you were clearly panicking. "Why haven't you really settled? You could have found the guy that it could have all worked with. You're smart, fucking hilarious, beautiful. Now don't get me wrong... but for most guys, that's all they need. We're not overly complex creatures."

"Honestly?"

His hand that was in yours clamped down and was trapped in his strong grasp. "Honestly."

"I don't think I'm ever going to find what I'm looking for. I haven't found someone that can keep my attention for long enough."

He stayed silent, he wasn't convinced.

You grunted and continued. "I date. A lot. I am just not broadcasting how average these dudes are I'm dating. Why do I want to spend my time with someone with who I don't spark with?"

"Do you really have a problem with commitment?" he asked pointedly.

"No, I have a problem with assholes," you replied smartly. "You haven't settled down, do you have a problem with a commitment?" you threw back.

He rubbed his moustache and he considered his answer. "No, I'm content with not being ready to settle down yet."

"So, yeah. You kind of have a problem with commitment," you laughed as he nudged you.

"I realise I'm in my prime," he shrugged, giving his ego receiving a nice self-stroking. You didn't mind Rooster talking himself up, it was incredibly sexy, truth be told. He was generally pretty modest about all that kind of stuff and kept his business to himself but really, he wasn't completely unlike his friends and co-workers. He knew he good a good-looking dude, his voice could turn you inside out (you figured), he could command a presence fairly easily, and women were putty in his hands. It wasn't a lot of effort on his behalf.

Grinning widely, you snuck closer to him, sitting on your knees and he watched his hands fall to his thighs as you released yourself from his grasp. God, you loved making him writhe and he dared you to ask what you were thinking. "I'm not stupid, Rooster. I know you get a handful of numbers when we go out."

"How many of those girls do you think I call?" he asked, thoughtfully. He knew you were getting off on this, taking the focus off you and pinning it on him. He didn't mind, he knew you were enjoying this little game of cat and mouse, and you weren't really offended by any of his questions, so he couldn't be either.

"You tell me," you whispered.

He adjusted his posture and he took your chin in his palm, his thumb imprinting on your chin. God, you were right there, so close... desperate to be kissed. "I like the chase," his voice low. "But the chase isn't all that much a challenge much anymore," he admitted and his wrist started beeping. 4am. He needed to go. He silenced it. "Saved by the bell," he announced. "That's my alarm."

"And just when we were getting to the juicy bits," you sighed as he kept your gaze, a small smile on his face.

"We can continue this if you like. At a more respectable hour."

"No thank you," you said quickly and he chuckled quietly.

"I'm not surprised by that."

You smiled shyly. "Sorry."

"Fuck, you're so beautiful, do you know that?" he couldn't stop himself from saying. It just had to be said and put out there. Great, now it was done, he reasoned. You didn't break his gaze, you were daring him to make a move. He licked his lips and had to laugh. He'd already made the move. If you wanted him, he decided... the ball was in your court. Come and claim me, he wished.

"Roost?" you said again.

He raised an eyebrow in reply.

"Stay."

"No," he said, sitting forward. Fight for me.

You got to your feet and pushed him back against the couch, a small grunt bristling as you stepped between his wide legs. He reached for your hamstrings, his hands massaging against your bare skin as he raised his eyes to you. It was powerful and intimate and he didn't know if he trusted himself to be touching you like this.

"If you've got something to say... this would be the time to say it," his voice thick with desire, daring you.

"Stay," you repeated, your fingers coiling into his sun-kissed ringlets, giving them a gentle tug as he slowly licked his lips.

"Gonna need more than that," he told you, pulling you flush against him, helping you straddle him, his arms in a vice grip around you.

"Stay for me."

He bristled a laugh as you reached for a button on his shirt, dainty fingers making light work of the straining material over his chest. "Think I'm gonna just fuck you after all this?" he removed your hands, placing them back in your lap where he silently prayed you'd keep them because his strength was waning and if you tried really hard, you'd have him exactly where you wanted him. "You really wanna make this about a quick fuck and I just up and leave?" he shook his head. "I think you know by now I want a little more than that."

"What do you want, Rooster?" you asked, your fingers tracing his scars, finding one on his jaw you were particularly fond of and tracing it, feeling him tremor beneath you. "Tell me," you said reaching for the hem of your shirt and he knew he was going for martyrdom as he held your shirt down, whispering a curse. "You don't want me?" you asked, easing back just a little, shocked and a little more than embarrassed.

"More than anything. Can't you fuckin' see that?" he took your face in his palms and he could see your resolve crumble, breaking him as your eyes shone with tears. "That's why we gotta wait."

Your gaze dropped, you hadn't felt rejected like this in a long time. You didn't feel sexy, you didn't feel desired and you absolutely did not feel like he wanted you regardless of the apparent sincerity of his words.

"Listen to me," his voice raspy from alcohol and exhaustion. "Tonight, before tonight," he confided. "I've thought about taking you in every position my mind could imagine. But every one of them was crude and in my mind, pure fantasy. Why do you think I didn't even think about saying no to any of this tonight? All these years and all we have to show for us is a cheap fuck? I got a little more respect for you than that, baby girl. I wanna turn you inside out," he whispered against your skin. "Why do you think I never made a move before? If you give me the green light, I will absolutely pray to you."

You had forgotten how to breathe and he kept your eyes locked to his.

"I want to worship you," he told you, repeating your name like a mantra. "Don't you get it?"

The blood was pumping so loud in your ears that you were finding it hard to focus. You were drawn out of your stupor as his alarm started buzzing on his wrist again. He was getting later.

"I gotta go," he murmured, his face so close. "Just think about it, okay?" he said quietly, kissing your temple.

"That will be the problem," you confided as he hummed.

"I hope so," he helped detangle yourself from him, letting you stand although your legs were absolutely jelly. He smiled at you finally, thoroughly wretched, and all due to him. "So many things I want to do to you," he breathed. "But now, I gotta go." He'd been short on time before, but nothing as bad as this made him feel.

"I'm not asking you to stay again," you threatened pathetically, and he heard the lies as clearly as you did.

He nodded. But he couldn't and he knew he didn't have to explain his duty... because of anyone who knew him, you understood this most. "See me out?" he asked.

"Okay," you murmured, following him by the hand down the hallway. You unlocked the door, and he pushed it closed again, leaving his palm and weight against it. You raised a surprised eyebrow.

"I just can't - " he closed his eyes, dropping everything he was holding and grasping your face tenderly between his calloused palms. "Please think about this."

"And if I fuck it up?" you asked, scared as reality started to kick in.

"What if I do?" he challenged. "Do we not owe it to ourselves to find out?"

You nodded, almost pained, pressing your hands to his chest because you needed the last few touches before he left you. "Yes, we do," and with that, his lips were on yours. Soft, unobtrusive, it felt like you'd been kissing him your whole life. Familiar and right, you didn't realise how long you'd been waiting for this. He was such a good kisser, and there was no going back now. The words were out there... his kiss had tainted you.

His hands left your face, tangling into your hair, it felt incredible. He smiled against your lips and lightly pulled back. "You only needed to say yes," he told you, holding your face, his warm hazel eyes dancing and he kissed you again, a little rougher this time, his large hands tangling into your hair, tugging at strands as they moved to your back, dangerously close to your ass. "I'm holding back so bad right now, because the second I give in, I will stay."

"Can't you call in?" you asked hopefully, reaching for his lips again, your hands drifting to his hips and his head fell back with a quiet sigh. He pleaded for your hands anywhere further north.

"If I don't front up today... every single person we know will know exactly where I am... and why," he said, voice laced in mirth.

You told him softly, "I will make it worth your while."

He groaned loudly, his body already ready and willing, pressed unyielding against you. "I believe you," he breathed. "The idea of being with you will be all I'll be able to think about today. God damn," he hissed, his alarm going off again. "Can I see you later?"

"I think that's a good idea."

He gave a small smile, pushing some hair from your eyes. "Good morning, fake girlfriend," he kissed you gently again, let go of you to collect his gear at your feet and forced himself into opening the door, stepping over the threshold purposefully. He leaned back and kissed you once more. "I'll call you later," he breathed, trying to gather some resolve.

"Tonight?"

He nodded. "Tonight."

"Okay. Good morning, fake boyfriend." But now... there was nothing fake about it.

"Oh, before I forget," Rooster pointed at you. You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe, the adrenaline of the evening waning as he started to wander away. "What are you doing the last Saturday of next month?"

You outwardly shrugged. At this point you didn't know how today would even pan out as he wandered back to you, lips painfully close to yours, his arms slipping around your waist again and you didn't want him to let go. "I dunno. Why?"

"I got a wedding invite through the week," he smiled kindly and you bit back a laugh. "Thought maybe you'd like to go with me..."

"Think you can keep this fake dating thing going until then?" you asked, caressing his cheek.

"I'm pretty confident we may not be fake dating then..." he said quietly, kissing you just one more time.

"Ballsy of you to assume."

He nodded. "Yep," his eyebrow quirked.

"Do you have to wear your dress uniform?"

"Yes," he sighed, recalling your first conversation.

"Damn. This suit is really good," you playfully teased him, knowing his dress uniform would likely bring you to your knees. White or blue, you didn't care. It would be utter carnage.

"I don't even think a dry cleaner would bring this back to its original glory," he admitted with a chuckle.

"Shame."

"Jesus Christ, I want to stay. Please tell me to leave," his eyes fluttered closed.

You smiled as he took a wide step back. "You'd better go."

He nodded, thankful for your push. "I'll see you later," he said and forcibly turned away, his feet taking him away from you and when he was out of your view, you felt the weight of his dog tags on your chest.

"Oh, shit."

masterlist.

A/N: Want to learn more about these crazy kids? Here we go! 

The Relationship Experience - prologue

#notroosterbradshaw #rooster #rooster fanfic #rooster fluff #rooster top gun #top gun fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x oc #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw fic #the boyfriend experience

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 CWS : 」 Kissing !! But it's not super duper heavy kissing, so it doesn't really warrant much else of a warning or an age rating afaik !!

Wriothesley has a lip piercing.

He doesn't notice how enamored you are with it at first— he thinks you just pay awfully close attention whenever he talks, not wanting to miss a detail. And while that is true... well... you gotta admit, the way his piercing catches the light when his lips move is crazy entrancing.

Wriothesley raises a brow when he catches you staring, gaping openly at the lower half of his face— flustered, if the way that you take a deep breath and shift on your feet is any indication. He smirks, resting a cheek on the palm of his hand.

"Something catch you attention, sweetheart?" He all but purrs, and you jump, quickly coughing into your fist and looking away.

Nervously, you laugh and aggressively avoid eye contact. It's not your fault in the slightest that that damned lip piercing only serves to amplify his attractiveness. And it is certainly not your fault that you can't think of anything else but how it would feel against your lips if he were to kiss you.

"Haha, n-no sir," you tell him, already inching backwards out of the room, but he clicks his tongue.

"No? Well I certainly beg to differ. From my perspective, you seem awfully... enamored by something, my dear assistant." Wriothesley's smirk only sharpens (that piece of metal glints in the fluorescent lights) and he wears the face of a man who knows he's won this little game of yours. With two fingers, he beckons you behind his desk and pushes his chair back, just far enough to give you exactly the amount of room you need.

You're loathe to disobey, not when he looks at you like that, and your feet lead you until you're slotted between him and the desk, knees touching enough for you to feel his warmth through his pant legs. Your palms are sweating, mouth dry and no doubt your legs are mere seconds away from turning into jelly. And it does you no favors whatsoever when Wriothesley takes your hands and gently places them on either arm rest, making it so that you are leaning over him, your breath grazing his lips as you try not to make your racing heartbeat so obvious.

Those blue eyes flicker down to your lips, so quickly you almost miss it, and his breath hitches.

"Well?" He asks. That smirk again— that lip piercing. "If you want a taste to badly, lean down and try it for yourself, sweetheart."

You don't even have to think— there's not a single ounce of you that second guesses. You lean down and lock your lips with his, swallowing the happy hum he makes and kissing him until you feel like you're seeing stars behind your eyelids. Just like you expected, that damn lip ring feels like nothing you've ever tried before. And Wriothesley— Wriothesley tastes like heaven, an experience against your lips that you want to spend the rest of your life familiarizing.

Judging by the hand he buries into your hair, the way he swallows your laugh and pulls you down just to drown you in even more kisses, it's safe to say that he feels the same way.

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #wriothesley #genshin impact