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footiecent · 1 month

Text

not your fault

(emily fox x reader)

in which you're obsessed with your girlfriend (especially her jawline)

warnings: slightly suggestive? almost all fluff

word count: 1.1k

It's not your fault. Really, it's not.

“Baby, don’t you have to get up soon?”

You hum in reply, half asleep.

You’re so comfortable. Your head is tucked protectively into the crook of your girlfriend’s left shoulder and neck while you lie almost entirely on top of her, the covers burying the both of you into a warm, delightful cocoon. Emily’s left hand is slowly moving up and down your back, and everything is just perfect.

“You can’t be late for work again.”

You open your eyes at that, but at the first moment you start to untangle your arms from her waist and feel her body heat dissipate, you realize that maybe you can stay for just another minute.

So, you decide to flop back down. Though, you’ve at least managed to roll your upper body partially off of her, giving you a perfect view of her side profile as she closes her eyes, not having to get up for practice for another half-hour.

You can’t help but to reach out your hand and run your thumb along her sharp jawline—mind assaulted by memories of the night before when you see the marks littered below it.

Damn. She’s gonna kill me, you think. She’s told you so many times that covering hickies up before practices is a bitch, and looking at these marks—ones that might be a few too many shades past concealable—you realize you’re fucked.

You start to analyze the best plan of action, landing on one that has you placing a gentle kiss onto her jaw before springing up from bed and hurriedly walking to the bathroom to wash up. All you have to do is leave before she gets up. Easy work. Easy peasy…

You’re so close—you’re at the door, knelt down with one shoe on when you hear her.

“Y/N! Come on!” she yells.

Yikes.

You manage to put your other shoe on right as she appears in your vision, very clearly ticked off.

“It’s not my fault?” you try, walking towards your very beautiful, and very pissed girlfriend.

“Oh, so it’s my fault I have to cover these up?” she says, pushing your shoulder when you stand in front of her.

Looking at her face, you decide that telling her you literally just look so incredible at every moment it’s not my fault you’re mine and I can’t help it would not exactly help your case. So, you decide to resume your quick exit, quickly kissing her cheek and saying, “Have a good practice babe, I love you!” as you grab your keys and leave your shared flat.

You do make a mental note to buy Emily’s favorite chocolates after work.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Like really, it's her fault. Who gave her the right to look that good after a game?

You’re reminded that you’re always completely in the right when you’re sitting at the Emirates two days later, watching your girlfriend wrap up a defensive masterclass against Chelsea. For the first time in a while, London is sunny, and the beautiful weather only adds onto the incredible mood in the stadium as the full-time whistle blows and cheers thunder throughout every corner.

You can’t help but stare at her while she celebrates with the rest of the team. Lotte likes to joke that the two of you could melt taffy with just one of your lovesick glances, but you can’t help it. It's her fault for looking so good after a game—sweaty, smiley, and positively glowing after helping her team to a win.

She spends time walking around the stadium, signing autographs and taking pictures, while you chat absentmindedly with Alessia, who came to greet you before starting her rounds of the stadium. But when Emily finally makes her way towards you—lifting her shirt up to try and wipe some sweat off her face—you start thinking about your plans for after. Alessia catches your change in demeanor, rolling her eyes and walking away while muttering something under her breath.

“Did you enjoy the game?” your girlfriend asks, stepping in front of you, grinning from ear to ear. You both look disgustingly in love as the sun shines down and highlights her vibrant smile.

“Of course I did. How could I not, superstar?”

Being in the stands means you hover tall over Emily, enabling you to comfortably wrap your arms around her neck as she looks up at you. You ignore the few stares that direct their way towards you two as you relentlessly press kisses onto her jawline and cheek. She’s laughing as she playfully tries to shove you away, but you can’t help but hold her a little tighter and whisper just how excited you are to get home.

--------------------------------------------------------------

So, she should stop getting annoyed. She should know that you’ll never truly be satisfied.

Your watch reads ‘8 P.M.’ as you cuddle up to Emily’s side on the white couch in your living room. The two of you had rushed home from the afternoon game, unable to resist the allure of enjoying each other’s company for a few hours.

And now, after redressing yourselves, cooking and eating dinner, washing the dishes, and tidying up the kitchen, the two of you are sitting together, more innocently enjoying each other’s company. She has a book out while you scroll mindlessly through Twitter, poking her side every few minutes to draw her attention to a funny tweet.

After thirty minutes, however, Emily is deeply immersed into her reading and you’re bored. So, you resort to beginning your favorite activity: staring at her. You look up at her while your head rests against her arm, and you’re still mesmerized by her beauty even years into your relationship.

“What?” she asks without looking away from her book.

“You’re hot.”

She dismisses the comment with a small snicker, but places a kiss onto your forehead regardless.

“We already fucked today, let me read in peace.”

You huff, but the both of you are well-aware that you aren’t deterred by small obstacles. So naturally, you begin to press a few open-mouthed kisses right below her jaw. She indulges you for a moment, closing her eyes and letting her book rest on her lap. But when a kiss turns into a stinging bite, she opens her eyes and grabs your shoulder.

“C’mon, stop it. I have to go in for recovery tomorrow, you know that,” she whines. “I already stopped you from leaving marks once today!”

But she should know that you simply can’t help yourself. She should’ve known that you were going to toss away her book from her other hand, grab her wrists, and straddle her lap. She really should know that the stern look she sends you—with her jaw clenched, almost sharpened—while sitting underneath you only makes her hotter.

She should’ve known that she was going to wake up the next morning with quite a few more marks.

After all, it's not your fault.

#emily fox #emily fox x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #uswnt x reader

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spidernuggets · 4 months

Text

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI

Warnings: NSFW, soft smut, sub!jason, praise kink, riding, blowjob, boob sucking

"Let me take care of you."

Jason came through the window of your shared room, tired and spread the scent of blood, gunpowder, and musk. He was already peeling off the heavy chest plate as he entered your room, his mood slightly lifting as he saw you in bed with your reading glasses on and his book in your hands.

He'd be lying if he said that seeing you in his shirt that hung loosely around your shoulders didn't turn him on right there, but he was just so exhausted. He doesn't think he could please you tonight, even though he said he would after all the dirty messages sent back and forth just a few hours ago.

You picked up his tired state just as he came in. You bookmarked his novel, placing it carefully on the bedside desk together with your glasses before quickly getting up and helping him remove his armour and tactical pants, his compressed shirt following suit.

"Sorry, ma. Last hour of patrol was a tough one," Jason grunts, rolling his shoulders back in circular motions, which you quickly noted.

You shushed him, telling him it was okay as you dug through your wardrobe, looking for a shirt and sweatpants for your boyfriend.

You threw a pair of dark grey sweats to Jason, looking for a shirt for him as he puts on the sweatpants.

"Don't need a shirt, babe. Just come to bed with me." He mumbles, cracking his neck, trying to feel some sort of relief.

Your eyebrows scrunch together in worry for him. They quickly rise as an idea pops into your head.

You walk over to Jason, who is already sitting in bed, leaning against the headboard, and blanket half draped across his legs.

"Want a massage, my love?" You asked innocently, wanting to help out your oh so tense man.

Jason always loves it when you call him that. Your love. Yours. That's right. He's yours. Jason has devoted his love and loyalty to you and only you. In Jason's eyes, you are the most beautiful, perfect woman he's ever seen. Even if you had curves or folds or scars or stretch marks or whatever you found a part of your body as an insecurity, he'd still see you like you are a beautiful sculputre, handcrafted by the most talented artist ever, or even carefully sculpted by God himself, and brought to life just for him. For Jason. For someone who has committed unforgivable things. Yet you're here, and you stay with him.

Jason sighs deeply, a weak yet encouraging smile stretching across his lips. "Sounds good, mama."

You smiled at his acceptance as you threw your leg over his thighs, straddling his waist. You place a soft kiss on his forhead before laying your hands on his broad shoulders, squeezing them as sighs and grunts escape Jason's lips.

"Feels good, baby," he was able to mutter. "'m sorry."

Your face displayed confusion. "I was supposed to be the one to take care of you," he says. You roll your eyes, smirking, knowing that he was referring to his previous texts.

"It can work both ways, lovely," you reply, your massage on his shoulder becoming more firm. Jason smile grew wider, leaning forward to place a kiss on your collarbone and his hands resting on your hips.

With every squeeze of his shoulders, your grip became firmer. And then boldly, you gently rolled your hips against his.

Jason sucked in a sharp breath. "And what do you think you're doing," Jason grunts.

You look at him innocently. "What do you mean? Just taking care of you, sweetheart," you say, grinding yourself against his semi-hard crotch again.

Jason tries his best to contain himself. "You're a god damn minx. You know that, yeah?"

You shrug a shoulder, a cheeky smirk growing on your lips. "You've said a couple of times here and there."

Jason scoffed as he pulled your hips closer to him, attaching your lips together with teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance.

Jason shuffled, trying to flip your current position, bht you held onto the headboard, keeping you in place.

"Didn't I say I was the one who was taking care of you tonight?" You said, sending a sharp stare into Jason's eyes. You lightly sigh, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, your moist lips dragging along his skin.

"You're exhausted. Let me take care of you. Please?" You whined, rolling your hips against him once more.

Jason mentally cursed at himself as he found you so fucking cute and hot at the same time. "I'm all yours, mama," he said, kissing your shoulder.

Your eyes shimmered in excitement, and Jason swore his heart melted.

Your hands roamed the bumps and curves of his abs that had different shapes and sizes of scars littered across his torso. You then placed wet kisses along his chest as you continued to grind against him, just for a little further teasing.

"Fuck- Y/n, please," you barely heard Jason whisper out.

You stopped what you were doing and kissed his lips. "What is it, love?"

"Please... Please just touch me already. Need- Ngh. Need to feel ya," Jason whined, bucking his hips up as you felt his cock was diamond hard.

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "So polite, hm, Jason?" You say, slipping your hands past his waistband, pulling his sweats down for his already leaking dick to pop out. You licked your lips at the sight.

"Just sit back and relax for me, alright, my love?" You remind him as Jason nods.

You move your hand to wrap around his cock, your thumb rubbing over the flowing tip, precum dripping down. Your hand starts to pump up and down on his dick as Jason throws his head back, stifling back his whimpers and moans, his grip tightening around your waist.

You pouted at him and stopped your movements. "Don't tell me you're trying to keep quiet, Jay. Let me hear you, yeah? Be good f'me," you encouraged him.

"Mm-ngh.. ye-yes, okay, ma," he whines. "Just... Just please move- fuck."

You kiss his nose. "My sweet, good boy," you whisper, earning another pathetic whine out of Jason. "Mama's gonna take such good care of you," you say, kissing your way down his chest, his abdomen, your lips grazing across his happy trail and finally gking up to where his red tip ached for contact.

You kissed the slit that leaked the milky seed as your hand went down to his balls, applying slight pressure, which made Jason's fingers that was tangled in your locks tug against them and his other hand that made creases in the sheets has its knuckles turn white.

Jason's sounds of desperate whimpers and whines are music to your ears. You finally wrap your lips around his length, your tongue swirling around the underside.

"F-fuck!" Jason cried out. "Mm.. good, that f-feels so good, baby."

You responded with a muffled hum as your cheeks were stuffed with his cock.

You felt it twitch in your mouth, and before Jason could reach his high, you pulled away from his length with a pop sound as Jason whined with a tear coming out of the corner of his eye from the loss of warmth around him.

You kneeled up, holding against the headboard for balance. Jason looked up at you with glassy, teary, and confused eyes.

"You're gonna be good for me again, yeah?" You question him, Jason nodding in response, willing to do anything for you.

You shifted yourself so that your sopping cunt was hovering directly above his tip, just begging for more of you.

"Please, please, I need you so bad," Jason groaned, trying to lift his hips up, and you couldn't help but giggle at his neediness.

"You'll get me, don't worry, baby," you say, letting yourself sink onto his throbbing cock, your nails digging into Jason's shoulders.

Sure you and Jason fucked multiple times before, but you still couldn't get use to how big he was every time he fucks you.

You laid your head on his shoulder, adjusting yourself to his size before pushing yourself up, and then down again, your body bobbing back and forth, the sounds of skin slapping echoing in the room.

"Shit, love-" You choked out. "So... So fucking big... you feel so so good. Ngh- My good boy."

As Jason is fully unable to form any words or sentences from his euphoric state, more tears slip from his eyes. You quickly notice, your hands rushing to his face, wiping them away with your thumb. You made sure to make eye contact with Jason as you put your thumb in your mouth, licking away his salty tears, which made Jason throw his head back, followed by a desperate moan.

"Every part of you just gotta taste so good, huh, pretty boy?" You taunt, enjoying seeing face scrunch up in pleasure and need.

As you ride him, you comb your fingers through his hair, a handful of locks in your hand as you tug it back to make him look up at you. You puff your chest out at him as Jason licks his lips.

"Want a taste, love?" You ask as Jason nods his head vigorously. You hum in response, kissing his forhead before pulling his head closer to your boobs, letting his mouth attach to one of them.

Jason's eye rolls to the back of his head, and his mouth is covered in his dribble as his hand massages your other breast. His tongue brushes over your nipple back and forth, making you moan in pleasure.

"Fuck, baby, I can’t- I just need to-" Jason stutters, his voice muffled as his mouth is currently occupied. His arm wraps around your back as he flips you two over. "Let me fuck you, please, mama. I can take care of ya," He begs, pleading eyes watching over you.

Your hand reaches up to caress his cheek as you nod. "Yeah.. Yeah, you can take care of me, my love," you assure him. Jason buries his head into your neck as he thrusts his hips into you, his tip reaching thay sweet spot that always made your back arch.

"Fuck, yes! Right there, Jay, oh god," you whine, nails dragging down his back, leaving streaks of red behind. "Feel- ngh, feel so good, m-my sweet boy."

Jason's spine shivers at the constant praise, his thrusts becoming deeper and faster. "Love y-you. I love you so much, Y/n. Fuckin' love you," Jason was finally able to grunt out, feeling his climax reach.

But for you, that's when you started seeing stars. It wasn't the first time Jason told you he loved you. But every time he did say it, it always had a special effect on you. For this time, his little daily confession had you cum before you could even process his words.

"Fuck!" Jason hisses. "Just a little longer, baby." He says, continuing to pump in and out of you.

"Nghh.. fuck- my love. Always so perfect. I love you too. My- oh! My perfect boy," you stutter. Jason's arms hold themselves tight around your body, your skin clamped together as his seed shoots out.

Jason continues to rude out his high as he deeply panted, leaving weak kisses on your shoulder. As Jason pulls out, he reaches for the cloth inside the bedside drawer and using the water from the cup you always leave on the desk to dampen it.

He silently cleans you up and lazily throws it onto the floor, saying he'll deal with it in the morning as he lays back down on your chest. Your fingers roam free through his tangled hair, whispering sweet nothings to him before the two of you fall asleep in each others embrace.

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teasteeper · 2 months

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so you said that you’re open to receiving ideas for jisung and since he’s been getting to me after this comeback i cannot resist the urge to share something - phone sex. or you making him tell you all about his kinks, fantasies or wet dreams. anything that includes him talking… i’m so obsessed with his deep voice i need serious help 🤕

don’t feel obligated to answer! i just decided to leave this here if one day you feel in the mood to write about him <3

im open to ideas for anyone and especially from you <333 my first time writing jisung idk?!;!:!/&:!: i dont love it but i didnt want to make u wait u_u

stoner bf!jisung x f!reader, riding, pinv, weed 18+ mdni

stoner bf!jisung who's so talkative with you, just you. his voice is so deep and slightly raspy from practice, and the weed makes him sound so soft. he never has to worry about speaking up around you, watching your eyes patiently trained on his face, watching his pretty lips move with each word, such a good listener for him.

jisung figures he'll probably never get over having such a pretty little thing follow his words so closely, always giving him all of your attention. it distracts him, suddenly becoming all too aware of your position, you laying in his bed, looking up at him as he lays on his side, head propped in his hand. his voice trails off as he feels his face get warm, getting flustered at how softly you look at him, wide eyes looking up at him with a sweet smile.

he busies his awkward hands with the necklace he gave you, turning the small pendant over between his slender fingers. you push him softly onto his back before lifting your leg over his hips and sitting up to straddle him. you don't push him to keep talking, leaning down to press your lips to his.

his lips move slow against yours, big hands trembling slightly as he rests them on your hips. he moans quietly into your mouth, your lower tummy pressed against his hard cock through his sweats. he watches you with bloodshot eyes as you tug his sweats and briefs down his hips, freeing his length.

“ride it, baby. let me feel you”

his deep moans vibrate against your skin as he makes out with your neck, pretty lips getting puffy with messy kisses down your throat and over your collarbones. your skin glistens with his spit, basically drooling over your chest with his fingertips pressing bruises into your hips.

he loves when you go slow, his back slumped against the headboard as he takes a long pull from his pen, exhaling with a soft moan as you swivel your hips. he sounds close to tears, choking back moans and gasps.

“fuck- you’re so pretty. you look so pretty when you ride it”

“look- look at me, lemme see you. gonna fuck you all night. give it to you over and over”

#asks #mutuals — dinna ᯓᡣ𐭩 #jisung #nct dream #nct #jisung smut #jisung x reader #jisung x you #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream drabbles #nct drabbles #nct dream hard thoughts #nct dream hard hours #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours

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s-brant · 10 months

Text

Stay

With his pregnant wife with ordered to rest by the maesters until her labors begin, Aemond must find new ways of entertaining her.

4k (18+)

Warnings: smut, p in v, hair-pulling, come swallowing, strong language, and pregnancy. this can be read as a stand alone or part three to Judas.

Pregnancy has coaxed out a new side of Aemond.

Of course, he had always been protective and caring, even when he was trying to stifle his feelings for her in the first few months of their union, but once she was with child, it intensified. From having the handmaidens tend to her every minute of every day to insisting upon following her around as though he is one of the royal guards assigned to protect her. It is always toned down in the presence of others due to his general discomfort with public displays of affection, but everyone noticed his constant proximity to her whenever he wasn't attending to his duties as a prince.

"You needn't breathe down my neck, I am quite capable of doing this myself," she said when he had once insisted upon helping her bathe once she got into the late stages of her pregnancy.

Truth be told, she did appreciate his incessant caregiving, but when caregiving shifted into being treated as though she was weak, that positive mindset soured slightly. Still, she rolled her eyes and allowed him to help her into the sunken tub filled with steaming hot water and bathing oil that gave off an aromatic lavender scent. He could tell that underneath it all, there was a part of her that enjoyed being looked after. A part of her that reveled in the protective nature he allowed to take control once her belly began to swell noticeably with his child.

The maesters suspect she will go into labor at any moment and insisted upon her getting bed rest during the day in preparation for it. So, that is what she has been doing all day long, and it threatens to drive her mad.

"Truly, how much more needlework and reading can I do? I have read nearly every book in the library at this point. Can you not escort me to the Dragonpit to visit Vermithor?" Y/N asks Aemond from where she lays back against the headboard with a hand cradling her round belly.

Clad in nothing but her shift to keep herself from sweating in the summer heat, she is left with nothing to do, and in her ill-tempered mood, she has resorted to begging her husband for his assistance. Unfortunately for her, Aemond is equally as cautious regarding her condition as the maesters. The very last thing he would do is encourage her to exert herself with a trip to the Dragonpit.

He offers her a stern look as he dresses for the day in the morning light that shines on his half-nude figure. The eyepatch he wears in the presence of everyone else sits on the table behind him, allowing her to admire how the sapphire eye glitters in the sun. While he cuts her a commanding stare, she trails her eyes down the length of him. The shade of his skin is strikingly pale against the warm colors decorating their shared chambers, only shadowed in the areas where skin dips into muscles to emphasize the strong lines of his abdomen. And, of course, he notices the hunger that is present in her gaze but says nothing about it.

"I cannot escort you anywhere outside these rooms, ābrazȳrys." Wife. "Tis my babe inside of you. If the maesters order you to rest, your duty commands you to listen."

He doesn't miss how her eyes follow the movement of his hands as they button his trousers. Filthy little thing, she is. His suspicions are confirmed by the smirk she gives him when she next speaks.

"Perhaps you could distract me some other way?" She hooks a finger around the hem of her shift to lift it slowly up her thighs. A muscle in his jaw tightens at the sight of her baring herself to him without anything to protect her modesty. "You know, I heard the strangest thing from Nyla"—one of their handmaidens—"a day ago. She said that a healer she once met told her that coupling with one's husband can induce childbirth."

Aemond stares at her with predatory intent, as though he's considering it for a moment, then shakes his head. Although they have pleasured one another in other ways, they have not had sex since her bump began showing. It was already scandalous for them to continue their marital duties after the pregnancy was confirmed, to do so when she's heavily pregnant would be even worse.

"We have been through this," he says. "It is not proper."

She does not miss a beat.

"Says who?"

Neither does he.

"The maesters, along with every other upstanding person of noble birth such as ourselves." He pauses, then says before she gets the chance to, "Aegon excluded."

A wry laugh escapes his dear wife at this, and she can't help how the beautiful sound is cut short by the feeling of the babe kicking her palm. Those pretty eyes go wide as she reaches out with her other hand in an invitation for him to come to her. Based upon the panic that flashes across his face, though, he must mistake her excitement for fear. A fraction of a second later, he's already at her side before she can hear the heavy footfalls on the floor.

"What is it?" he asks, throat constricted with terror.

She smiles at him. It's a lovely, placating type of smile, and it washes away every worry present in his head when he sees it. Wordlessly, she takes his hand, calluses and rough from sword fighting, in hers and places it on the top of her bump where the movement can be felt.

"Feel," she whispers.

Her fingers mold overtop of his to keep his flattened palm pressed down on her. Beneath both the linen fabric of her shift and her warm skin he feels it.

"He must be coming soon. He's in the right position for birthing."

Then, her head tilts back to allow her to look up at him in on. It's unfathomable to her— the fact that a child is dwelling within. Not only a child but their child. She can't help but wonder what they will look like or which one of them they will favor. It's all too easy to picture what she may see as soon as a few days or weeks from now. Aemond, half-dressed as he is now, with their newly-born son resting against his chest as they lay together in the quiet of their rooms. The babe will look so small, so fragile and new, when cradled against his Kepa's larger body. And when she pictures that, she feels complete in a way she never has before.

It seems that he is having similar feelings when his eyes light up at her hopeful declaration. What she doesn't know is that he is imagining the very same thing, yet reversed. His mind conjures the image of their days-old daughter suckling at her breast, making soft coping noises throughout. Although he has never known himself to be the tender-hearted type, that thought warms him to the bone.

He rubs the spot where the babe kicked as though to soothe it in the only way they'll understand at this point in their development. No spoken words or language yet, just the communication of touch. The same instinctual form of communication animals use to soothe their children. The touch is firm yet soothing. Constant in a way that one's father should always be yet rarely ever is. It says, "Kepa is here. Don't fret. We will meet you soon."

"She," he starts, meeting her gaze with a stoic face, "will come tomorrow. Helaena told me so when we dined with mother last night."

Her eyes narrow.

"Helaena, I believe. However, you, dearest, are not a dreamer. You cannot know the babe is a girl. I, on the other hand, can sense it. We will have a male heir. One whose birthright will never be disputed as mine has been."

The part about wanting a male heir out of fear for their claim to the throne being challenged causes his mouth to shift into an imperceptible frown. Most people do not know how to read those changes in his expression, but she can. Since her pregnancy began, she has become well-versed in his non-verbal cues. For now, he bypassed the worry she so vulnerably laid before him. That is a matter they can discuss later.

He asks, head tilting slightly in curiosity, "You can sense it?"

"Yes, of course," she says and weaves her fingers into his to hold his hand. "There is such a thing as motherly intuition."

To this, he hums quietly, and it's such a distinctly him thing to do that she finds herself fighting a smile.

"If motherly intuition does, in fact, exist, why would my intuition as her father be any less accurate?"

She stifles a laugh at this, easily recognizing from his tone that he is merely teasing her. Something he never once pictured himself doing with his eventual wife. A marriage of duty was what he anticipated, yet this is far from it. He realizes right now that he would do anything for her. He would die for her if it came to that, but not just because their wedding vows brought her under his protection and Daemon would hunt him to the ends of the earth should anything happen to her. It's because he cares.

Y/N cups the bottom of his chin in her free hand and forces him a bit closer to say, "Because I am your very pregnant, very ill-tempered wife, and I said so. If you dare to question my authority, I may be inclined to use your knife on you again." There's a pause. "Also, while I have your obedience, I would like to dine with the family tonight one last time before our son arrives."

Although they both know they are jesting, Aemond's eye darkens the second she calls him obedient.

"If you were not carrying my daughter, I would bend you over my knee for that."

It's wholly true, and she knows that. He did it once before but knew the whole time she was simply allowing it to occur as a result of her own sexual gratification. He knew that if she wanted, she would break free and have him fleeing her wrath on Dragonback.

She smirks and pulls him closer until their lips nearly brush.

"Don't say those things if you are refusing to fuck me. It is cruel," she whispers. "It arouses me, and you know I cannot satisfy myself the way you can."

His body goes still in the wake of her brazen confession.

Knowing she has him right where she wants him, she decides to hammer the idea home. The strap of her shift has "accidentally" fallen from her shoulder as she kisses him just long enough to entice but not satisfy.

"Lest you've forgotten, the maesters told me to wait five weeks after the birth to allow myself to heal before taking you to bed again." The tremble in his exhale brings a triumphant gleam to her eyes, and she pulls her mouth back out of reach to tease him as he leans in to kiss her. "It would be a pity to waste such precious time, would it not?"

Their lips brush, and the hand that holds his chin breaks away to palm at his half-hard cock through his trousers. It swells eagerly beneath her touch after ages of restraint and self-pleasure, growing harder by the second until he is fully, painfully needing her.

"Come," she says and spreads her legs in invitation. "What the maesters tell you is largely myth and outdated theories. The babe will remain unharmed."

At last, the patience of her devoted husband runs thin, and he is unable to stop himself from kissing her with an unashamed lust that indicates she will be getting what she wants. The suspicion is proven true when he kneels on the mattress between her legs to crawl onto her without breaking the passionate, open-mouthed kiss shared between them. But before he can try to settle his weight atop her and prevent her from reaching for his trousers, she finds the waistband with fumbling hands. This halts him for just the right amount of time—long enough for her to undo the button and push the clothing, along with his small clothes, down his slender hips.

The disappointment he feels at her refusal to allow him to bury his fingers or head between her thighs in hopes that she will be satisfied without penetration is visible on his face. Yet he says nothing. In truth, he cannot do anything to stop this. If he truly did not wish to fuck her, it would be easy to deny her. The issue at hand is that he does wish to, and now that his cock is being pumped in her hand as he stares down at her pleading eyes, it no longer matters to him what is proper or not.

It's when she starts to guide him to her sweet cunt that he realizes that she would have had the chance to thwart his sabotaging efforts no matter how quickly she pulled his trousers down. What halts them in their tracks is the protruding belly, larger than it was the last time he took her to bed, preventing him from laying comfortably against her.

This would be the perfect opportunity for him to redirect himself back to his original intentions, but, instead, he says, "Turn over."

Her cheeks burn hot at this, at the sheer commanding nature of his words, before she obliges him. She turns over cautiously to avoid falling on her stomach and settles into a semi-comfortable position on her hands and knees, back arched just so to present herself to him. Though she cannot see it, he smiles.

His voice is soft yet stern when he next speaks.

"Down onto your arms," he says. "It will feel better that way."

She stares daggers at him over her shoulder and asks, half jesting, half jealous, "We have never done it this way, so how would you know, husband?"

Aemond rolls his eye at her dramatics.

"You already know, now do as I command."

He isn't wrong. They've been quite honest with one another about their past transgressions with members of the opposite sex, although hers was little more than a shy peck on the cheek while his were, well...Aegon took him to a brothel on his thirteenth name day, that much she knew before they were wed due to her eldest uncle's loose lips, but what no one else knows, save for her, is that he had a few lovers. Likely a result of the time he was taken to a brothel, he never sought his pleasure out with whores.

It began accidentally. He didn't intend to fuck a widowed lady in court, but it happened, and he was glad it was her. From then on, he followed the rules unintentionally set by his first time after the brothel. The first rule, of course, was to never lie with a maiden to prevent ruining her reputation and being forced to marry below his station as consequence.

The second was to never go back to the same woman more than a few times. This kept his time with them to a minimum and prevented any of his lovers from forming delusional attachments. Another rule was to never kiss them, and, the last, most important one was to never finish inside them. Though she was overwhelmed with jealousy upon first starting this conversation with him, his explanation for the last rule did well to soothe her.

It did not matter whether he chose to fuck whores in brothels or older women of noble birth, no one but his wife deserves the seed of a dragon prince. He would not dishonor her by fathering a bastard, he explained. Not like his brother did many times to poor, sweet Helaena.

So, she does already know that his skill at pleasing her comes from his experiences with the older women who now have husbands again, who sometimes try to meet his gaze as they pass to no avail. Still, it doesn't make her less jealous, nor does it make teasing him any less fun.

Y/N hardly has the time to shift her weight down onto her forearms before he nudges his cock into her with his hands gripping her full hips until his knuckles turn white.

"Aemond!" she cries out in surprise at the sudden intrusion, but it soon gives way to a soft giggle. Her explanation comes seconds later, once she has regained her composure. "I will hear no complaints of me forcing myself on you later. You are just as responsible."

The first few motions of his hips pushing in and away from her are tentative, holding back when his fingers brush her belly to remind him of her condition. In spite of his guilt for doing this, it feels too good to stop after months of nothing but his hand and, sometimes, her mouth when he wakes to the sensation of her sucking him deep into her throat. That is good, always, but this is incomparable, and it has been so long that he almost forgot. But, it's impossible to forget now. Not when he feels her rocking her hips back against him, meeting his thrusts at a pace that encourages him to keep up.

The pillow is soft on her cheek where it sinks into it with one of her hands gripping the corner for dear life. Soft noises leave her without realization as Aemond finally lets go of his reservations and surrenders to the primitive instinct that tells him to fuck her. He cannot wholly allow his instinct to take over, however. If he did, he'd get far rougher than he's comfortable being with her in this condition. It's a constant battle to keep himself from unleashing the full extent of his lust, ages in the making, on her the way they both enjoy.

Although he's holding back, she reacts with an enthusiasm often reserved for nights when he brings her to release over and over again. Anyone else would think she is exaggerating, but he knows her well. He knows that all this time they've abstained has made her ravenous, and from the times he has brought himself to his peak alongside her with her fingers trapped between her thighs, he knows pregnancy has made her a touch more sensitive.

He lets one hand leave her hip to clasp over her mouth and muffle the lovely little gasps and moans. His cock plunged into her harder as if in punishment for being too loud, hitting a spot that makes her squeeze her walls around him and whine into the hand over her mouth. His other hand uses its hold on her hip to tug her back to meet him stroke for stroke, quickly forgetting his internal promise to be gentle. It isn't nearly as intense as usual, but she can sense it. She can sense that he's starting to give himself over to the pleasure and allow himself to enjoy it.

"Quiet," he snaps and presses his palm harder against her lips to force them shut. His words seem to have the opposite of the intended effect, if the way she cries out has anything to show for it. "If the servants hear and gossip about me defiling you like this, Aegon will never stop talking about it."

The hand over her mouth leaves for an instant to reach for the belt looped into his undone trousers. Her body jolts with every hard thrust, and she cannot help how she moans now that her mouth is uncovered.

She yelps in surprise when he pushes the leather between her teeth and says, "Bite on this."

There's nothing else for her to do but listen.

It does a satisfactory job at keeping the sounds confined to their chambers. Not as well as his hand, but it will have to work. It allows him to hear her and revel in every sound without worrying too deeply about servants overhearing. If anything, he is the one who now risks getting them caught with how he groans and sighs with every smooth, wet drag of his cock inside of her.

The physical sensation is so overwhelming and euphoric, it almost feels torturous to him. Knowing that he cannot live in this moment forever is the cruelest form of torment he's endured, even above Lucerys blinding him and Aegon encouraging his nephews to bully him for lacking something they were all born with the privilege of having.

They made him feel inadequate, small, and he cannot deny the truth in what she said to him once before, in the midst of their coupling, regarding him deriving a sick pleasure from having stolen their sister away and making her his own. Fucking her full of heirs and taking solace in the fact that it is his blood, not the blood of the Strong bastards, that will continue their family's great dynasty. It's invigorating. Vindicating, even.

The muffled sounds of her moaning as he watches her, transfixed by the urge to wrap his hand up in the curtain of white silver running down her back like a flash of shooting starlight, brings him so close, he can almost feel it. His eye squeezes shut to allow him to focus on preventing himself from coming before she can, and it's only when he feels he's regained control over himself that he warns her.

"I won't last much longer," he says, breathless.

She knows that the words in and of themselves are an apology, so she shakes her head and murmurs, too far gone at this point, "Don't care."

There's a groan from behind her, then a harsh snapping of his hips against her ass as he says, "I do."

The feeling of the rough pads of his fingertips rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs has her writhing under him. She's grasping onto the pillow with one hand and braces the other on the headboard to keep her head from hitting it with the force of how he fucks her. Teeth biting down on leather, she cannot do much else than take it. She cannot call his name or warn him of her imminent climax, but she does not need to. By now, he knows when she's close to her peak by the feeling of her cunt spasming around him.

It's an addictive feeling. So much so that he doesn't quite enjoy his peak if it doesn't involve feeling, hearing, and witnessing hers first. It never fails to drag him under.

Another brush of his fingers against her, along with a well-aimed thrust, is all it takes to send her careening over the edge.

Her jaws goes slack and allows the belt to fall onto the pillow as she cries out for him at the intense crest of the wave that overtakes her. It's a mumbling, incoherent mixture of expletives, as well as his name, that pushes him closer to his satisfaction to hear it. To think that the beautiful creature beneath him, rendered useless in his hold and swollen with his child, is solely his and his alone is a fact he can hardly comprehend. All he can think as he chases his release is that he loves her. They have yet to say it, but he feels it. It's the kind of love that starts wars and ruins lives, and that is the most startling revelation he's ever had.

It takes little time—seconds, actually—for Aemond to succumb to the near-explosive feeling he has tried to stave off for the sake of satisfying his wife first. He is careful enough, even in the blissful reverie of climax, to not let his weight go on top of her and risk making her uncomfortable. Or injuring her or the babe in any way. Although exhausted from the relentless exertion, his body finds a way to hold itself up after he collapses onto her back and continues to rut into her as he fills her sensitive cunt with his seed until there's nothing left to give.

His softening cock slips out of her after he's taken the better part of a moment to come back down from the heavens she sent him to, and Y/N whines at the sudden emptiness. It isn't uncommon for him to remain inside of her long after they've finished sometimes. The first time it occurred, it was a result of mutual exhaustion, but the next time, it was a conscious choice.

His chest rises and falls rapidly with his panting breaths as his eye flutters shut for a second as though to take the time to burn the image of her now into the back of his mind. When he opens it again and moves back to see his come leaking from her hole, he has to keep himself from flipping her onto her back and kissing her sweet cunt until she's licked clean and lacks any evidence of the sin he committed today. But, he can't. He was already meant to be meeting Criston in the training yard, and nothing would be worse than the knight searching for Aemond only to find out he's been locked away in his chambers with his wife.

To pacify himself, he swipes his middle and forefinger between her slick folds to gather some of the dripping fluid on them. His other hand wraps itself up in her hair as he wanted it to moments ago to gently pull her head up from being buried in the pillow. Her head turns to the side only enough to allow him to see the side of her face, and he doesn't need to say anything to get her to open her mouth for him. All he does is bring it to her lips as he waits for her to obey his wordless command, wrapping her lips around his fingers and moaning at the salty taste on her tongue before swallowing it all.

When he watches this, he can't stop thinking to himself that he's lucky. Not only does he have a rare jewel of a woman as his wife and future Queen, but he also has a wanton whore who is quick to comply with his every wish and begs him to fuck her even when she is far along with child. Desperate for him and him alone.

"Mmm," he hums in approval at how she sucks his fingers clean and loosens his grip on her hair until it falls loose around her shoulders again. The hand that held back her hair slides down her back and rubs in soothing strokes up and down the length of her spine. The next words are barely a push of air, spoken so quietly that no one else in the world could overhear. "Sȳz riña." Good girl.

With his fingers falling from her lips, she sinks back down into the bed and rolls onto her back to allow herself the pleasure of looking at her husband. The adoration visible in her gaze never fails to catch him off guard. No one ever looks at him like that. With such fondness. Not even his own parents or siblings.

"Umbagon lēda nyke tubī, ñuha jorrāelagon?" Stay with me today, my love? "Jikagon udir naejot Criston bona iksan tolī va naejot ñuha sikagon syt ao naejot henujagon ñuha paktot. Umbagon kesīr, sagon iā sȳz valzȳrys, se qogralbar aōha ābrazȳrys ēva se tubis iksis toliot." Send word to Criston that I am too near to my labors for you to leave my side. Stay here, be a good husband, and fuck your wife until the day is gone. Her bold request draws a scoff from him. A second passes, then she says softly in the common tongue, "You have been quite protective of me as of late. I am sure people will not think anything of it."

There's a second of contemplation during which he weighs the costs and benefits. On one hand, he does need to train and maintain appearances in court. On the other...Well, he would very much like to spend the day in bed with her, testing out the theory the handmaiden presented to her about sexual activity inducing childbirth.

Screw Criston, he thinks.

"Sagon careful skoros ao epagon yno. Kostā jiōragon ziry," Aemond says to give her one last chance to rescind the offer. Be careful what you ask of me. You may get it.

Her expression turns stony as she asks, looking up at him through her lashes like she once did as a demure little cocktease of a newlywed, "Ao kivigon?" You swear?

And in the midst of the night, after a day of laying together—reading, fucking, talking, and giggling like little kids—they discover the theory regarding sex and childbirth to be true, and it's in the late hours of the morning that their little dragon finally decides to greet them in the form of a wailing infant girl.

Tag list: @m-indkiller, @tinykryptonitewerewolf, @hopebaker, @bcon24, @eleganttravelercloud, @aemond-targaryenx, @the-blue-banshee, @saramayu, @merakiaes, @its-sam-allgood, @grungegrrrl, @singitoutgirl26, @scarlettmoon98, @cicaspair418, @itisjustwhatitis, @cl-0-vr, @d34d-4c1d, @hargrovehoe, @vainillasmil157, @leahjean, @captainweirdo42, @magnificantmermaid, @dark-night-sky-99, @kaicyl, @ladybug0095, @bellaisasleep, @blackravena, @isaxbella749, @reneki, @heylosers06, @izzicle, @bucky-thorin-winchester, @hangmanscoming, @harrypotteranna23-blog, @fan-goddess, @glame, @muthafuckingstargirl, @barnes70stark, and @shintax-error.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #fanfiction #wrote most of this in my notebook at the psych ward last month ✌️

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wooahaes · 2 months

Text

a splash of color

pairing: non-idol!s.coups x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 10/13

word count: 4.7k~

warnings: some angst. food mentions. so much platonic love between cheol n his friends. mentions of other soulmate fics throughout.

daisy’s notes: cheollie :( <3

summary: Seungcheol has lived in a world of grays since he was ten. He’s beyond tired of it and depending on the people around him to tell him what color his shirt is, or which apples are the green ones, or if that bottle is water or clear soda… So where are you, soulmate? He’s waiting.

Choi Seungcheol considered himself to be someone who was strong. Physically, yes, but he’d been the friend people could count on. Jeonghan once told him that he looked dependable, and that seemed to come true in the way he went about his day. He was the one who would hold his friends up when they were struggling, always with advice or a distraction if that was what they needed. He was the coworker who spoke up when someone was being treated horribly, using his position to protect others. And he was, admittedly, the person who would get called up when they were moving (you’re welcome, Boo Seungkwan). He had his reasons for being strong… but the biggest came from the day he turned ten.

The day of his birthday, he spent it sitting in a doctor’s office, holding his mother’s hand as he stared at boring posters on the wall. The doctor droned on and on about how this was normal, and his mom hung onto every single word he said. Midnight struck, and Seungcheol had slowly watched the colors on the presents he’d found begin to drain away into shades of gray. He’d woken his parents up and their disappointment in him faded into panic: what if it wasn’t his soulmate sign? What if something else had happened to their son? So he’d gone through tests today, just to eliminate what they could the fastest. Sure enough, the loss of color was his soulmate sign… and there wasn’t much relief in the news.

“But how do we find his soulmate?” His mother had clutched his hand within her own, hard enough to hurt.

The doctor gave a sympathetic shrug. He offered a lollipop to Seungcheol a moment later, wishing him luck.

Seungcheol threw it in the trash on the way out.

That day had begun a change. A way to adapt to the life he would live for however long. His parents sat in his room as he watched them draw shapes into the tags of his clothing, designating color. His father had laminated a sheet and taped it up inside of his closet door. Every single roommate and friend he’d ever had later in life became his go-to for when he needed a second opinion on his outfits, the same thing his parents had done for him while growing up. Joshua and Jeonghan had been there throughout college to keep him from looking like a disaster—although Seungcheol had his suspicions about some of the shirts he’d worn over the years—and that friend circle expanded from there. He eventually met Minghao, who only saw colors that matched his soulmate’s mood. He’d seen the way Minghao looked at him for the first time upon learning his soulmate sign with the oddest sense of relief. As though it was the first time he’d felt seen in any way. Their experiences differed, but Seungcheol had felt seen, too, with him as a friend. Everyone seemed to understand when Seungcheol gestured toward his eyes with a soft “my soulmate…” as an explanation, too.

Seungcheol had adapted as best as he could, and spent his weekends meeting other people like him. Just in case he found his soulmate that way. He could live like this, sure, but he yearned for the warm embrace of love defined by a shared experience. That was why they had soulmate signs, wasn’t it?

Yet things were getting harder. A year ago, Seungkwan met his soulmate at an urgent care facility. He’d introduced them to the group with this soft smile on his face, and the two had moved in together a few weeks ago—hence Seungcheol being called upon to help with the heavy lifting… and a bit of the unpacking process, ever the caring dad friend of the group. He’d caught himself on a box cutter that had been left slightly open (earning a million and one apologies from Seungkwan’s soulmate, no matter how many times Seungcheol insisted it was fine). Seungkwan had dropped what he was doing in the kitchen to snag the first aid kit from where he’d already tucked one underneath the kitchen sink, and sat across from his hyung to carefully disinfect it.

He’d pulled two bandages out, holding them up. “Do you want the pink one with flowers, or the blue one with cherries?”

Seungcheol raised a brow. It was cute, but he had to know…

“We picked them out together,” he had said a moment later, rolling his eyes. “They’re clumsy, and I usually have to patch them up, so we decided to get cute bandages. Now pick.”

“I can’t tell the difference, you know.”

Another pointed look, exasperated at the decision being drawn out this much. “Well? Pick one already before you bleed out.”

“The cherries.” Seungcheol could see the subtle smile tugging at Seungkwan’s lips as he set the other one aside, fingers nimbly unwrapping the bandage. His hands were warm as he held Seungcheol’s hand in one, angling it so that he could smooth the bandage over the side of it.

For a moment, Seungkwan’s fingertip traced the round red (he assumed) cherries. “You’ll find them, you know. And then I’m going to show you a slideshow of every single ugly outfit Jeonghan tricked you into wearing.”

Seungcheol found himself smiling already. “I look forward to it.”

Not long after Seungkwan had met his soulmate, Wonwoo ran into his own. He’d been sitting with Vernon and Mingyu apparently, listening to Vernon tell the real story of how Seungkwan found his soulmate. Seungkwan had once said that the day he met his soulmate, he felt as though a part of his soul had come home. There was this newfound sense of peace within him, curling up in his chest like a kitten, that he had never known he’d been longing for. Before Wonwoo, Seungcheol had thought it was Seungkwan being sentimental. Then Wonwoo had sidled up to Seungcheol one night while his soulmate was talking to Mingyu and Jihoon, fingers ghosting over where his string once was. It disappeared with a relieving pop, according to Wonwoo, and yet Seungcheol wondered if Wonwoo still missed it.

“They were petting a stray cat when I found them, you know,” Wonwoo tucked his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. His shoulders were relaxed, and there was something so tender in his gaze as he watched the way his soulmate laughed at something Jihoon said. “It wasn’t love at first sight, though.” His gaze met Seungcheol’s, and there was a newfound seriousness to them. “But… Seungkwan was right. I found my home.” One of his hands ghosted over his chest, right above his heart. “It was like… Everything was right all of a sudden.”

“They’ve made you sappy,” Seungcheol gently teased.

Wonwoo had cracked a smile, that tender gaze settling onto his soulmate again like a well worn coat. “They like poetry,” he confessed. “I think I’ve been reading more of it for them.”

Seungcheol understood the feeling. He’d dated before, and he’d done loving little things like that, just to show that he was listening and that he cared.

“You’ll find them,” Wonwoo said. “I know you will.”

Seungcheol let himself believe that. He believed it for the others, after all: if he believed it for them, then he had to do it for himself, too. That was why he wasn’t surprised when Minghao quietly approached Seungcheol alone. Seungcheol had been at the art gallery that day, actually: he made a point of clearing his schedule enough to drop in and see his masterpiece (not in Minghao’s eyes, but everything Seungcheol’s friends made was a masterpiece in his eyes) as it hung on the wall. He’d seen Minghao with his soulmate, standing next to one another as they discussed more artwork with him. It’d been selfish, but Seungcheol missed having someone within his close circle who understood him.

All it took was seeing Minghao smile at his soulmate for the first time for that feeling to disappear. He’d seen how badly Minghao struggled, and he hadn’t understood until the day he finally asked him what he meant—just before the exhibit. A few days later, Seokmin had asked Seungcheol to come on a day Minghao had been a little off. A little snowballed into a lot and Minghao’s anger had bubbled up and boiled over within those two hours.

“It isn’t fair!” He snapped, his canvas still lying on the ground from where he’d thrown it aside. Paint had splattered onto the wooden floor not covered by the drop cloth, and Seokmin had quickly kneeled to scrub it away before it could dry. Minghao stood, fists clenched and heaving in his anger at the world. “They’re ruining my life!”

“Don’t say that.” Seokmin’s gaze softened, voice even quieter. He’d paused in his task for just a moment, just watching his roommate. “Minghao…”

Seungcheol faced his soulmate sign with patience. Minghao lived with an anger he hid underneath it all, buried under hours of meditation and self reflection.

“I wish I didn’t have a soulmate!” He sobbed, and Seungcheol crossed the room quickly to pull him into his arms. Minghao crumpled into him all too easily, as though he was being held up by toothpicks. “I can’t,” he hiccuped, “I can’t keep doing this. How am I supposed to paint when they’re ruining everything for me?!”

Seungcheol could only hold him as he cried, fingers digging into his shirt as he held onto him for dear life. And then, a few months later, Minghao had quietly introduced his soulmate to Seungcheol first.

He’d waited until they went to the bathroom to explain. “Because you understand me,” he said, squeezing Seungcheol’s hand in reassurance. Who it was for, Seungcheol wasn’t sure. “Every time I go out with them, I can’t help but regret everything I’ve felt toward them.” His voice dropped lower, softer, to keep their conversation between the two of them. “They’re understanding, and kind, and… I think I’m falling in love with them, Cheol. And I’m scared.”

Seungcheol squeezed his hand back. “That’s okay,” he said. “They seem very kind. Do they know…?”

“I think they might.” Minghao glanced toward the bathroom for just a moment. “I’ll tell them one day that I struggled. They deserve to know.” He took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. “I wanted you to meet them first because you were right. I wanted to love them.” His fingers curled around Seungcheol’s hand, holding on tight. “I still do.” He paused, and wiped at the tears brimming with a soft chuckle. “I think… I think you’re going to be worse, though.”

Seungcheol raised his brows. “Hm?”

“When you meet your soulmate,” he said. “You’ll cry, I think.”

Seungcheol laughed at that, warm as ever. He already knew that he would.

The rest of the group seemed to be finding their soulmates over time. Joshua met his soulmate in the space between Vernon and Jihoon meeting their own, and Seungcheol saw the telltale relief on the latter two’s faces. The two of them didn’t have obvious signs, after all: Seungcheol knew the way that kind of thing could affect someone. Seungcheol would sit around, thinking about his own soulmate as he watched his friends meet theirs. Would he rather have this sign, or be like them, wondering if he had a soulmate. Would he have already found someone perfect for him? Or would he leave them for his soulmate if he met and loved them more? The thought alone made his chest ache.

It was better like this. Even the idea of heartbreak was enough to unsettle him.

“He’s turning red, by the way,” Vernon casually said as Jihoon watched his soulmate step away to socialize with Mingyu, who had called them over to ask them something about their current hair color—a perfect match for Jihoon’s, as it always is.

“So?” Jihoon said, and then looked up to realize Vernon was standing next to Seungcheol. He was choked up for a moment, betrayed by Vernon—Vernon, who Jihoon adored like a little brother. “Why would you tell him that?!” He frowned despite the way Vernon chuckled. “The one person who can’t tease me about it yet…”

“Yet,” Seungcheol emphasized. He smiled behind his sip of beer, looking away for a second. Everyone seemed to speak as though they knew.

“I’ll find them myself if I have to,” Jihoon said. “However you meet them will be better than how I met mine.”

Joshua threw an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulder, chuckling. “You mean being yelled at in a beauty store isn’t your ideal way of meeting your soulmate?”

“Didn’t your soulmate yell at him, too?” Vernon nodded toward Jihoon.

Jihoon cracked a smile. Ah. Yes. Jihoon did have a role in Joshua’s soulmate hearing that same song over and over and over. “They did.”

“We can’t all have a soulmate we’ve been in love with for months,” Joshua said, reaching out to flick the back of Vernon’s head. “Jerk.”

(Or years, if they were Jeonghan, looked as if he’d rather be home and asleep right now.)

Seungcheol had laughed along with the others, only for it to fade soon enough. There was so much love in the room that he hadn’t exactly felt in a while, always afraid to fully commit to someone when this great love was still out there. “Is it worth it?”

The group fell quiet around him. No one ever felt the need to hide their soulmate with the group, even with those who didn’t have them. They were adults, after all: they could handle someone having what they didn’t (whether that was yet or at all differed from person to person). But Seungcheol knew that they were always treading lightly, never going too far when talking about their soulmates. Vernon had been the first one who met his gaze and nodded.

“Yeah. It’s worth it.” He paused. “It’s hard… but it’s worth it.”

Things had begun to change even more after Mingyu met his own soulmate. Seungcheol remembered sitting down for dinner with him and a few others, officially celebrating that Vernon found his soulmate. Everyone knew about the words neatly inked onto Mingyu’s bicep, always something to tease him about. Sometimes Seungcheol wished he had something like that. It’d give him more of a hint about who his soulmate was, maybe. Mingyu’s soulmate knew that he was a sap: what would Seungcheol’s soulmate be like? Would they look at him and see someone reliable and strong? Or would they see someone pouting at his friends teasing him and think him silly? He’d deal with as many silly thoughts as he could if it meant he knew something about this person.

Yet he remembered something that Mingyu had said to his soulmate: I can wait a little longer for you. Seungcheol could wait, too, and he would, but…

“Would you have?” Seungcheol asked one night, stretched out in a lawn chair. Mingyu was sitting in the other, nursing a beer between his hands, and maybe the two of them had been drinking a little too much. “Waited for them longer, I mean.”

Mingyu’s eyes were twinkling as he looked up at the sky, that bashful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes.”

I can wait a little longer for you. Seungcheol wasn’t surprised Mingyu meant it. Mingyu was one of the sappiest people he knew, always so in love with everything and everyone around him. Others were warmer, more sunshine-y and loving, but Mingyu found something beautiful in life itself. Handsome as he was, Mingyu had one of the biggest hearts of anyone Seungcheol knew.

“Hey…” He pawed through the air toward Seungcheol’s hand, and Seungcheol rolled his eyes with a smile as he extended it. Mingyu wrapped his fingers around his palm, squeezing it tight. “I’m sorry you haven’t found them yet.”

Chan had met his soulmate right after Mingyu through the joint effort of said soulmate and their best friend. He was already enamored with this giddy joy, gushing about something cute they were doing. Jeonghan had finally met his soulmate face to face a month ago. It didn’t surprise him that Jeonghan had already talked about life plans after years of being in love with this person. Maybe Seungcheol was destined to find his soulmate last. He was okay with that: he’d rather see his friends happy first, and then find that happiness for himself.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“No, no, it is,” his voice was tinged with this drunken laughter that made Seungcheol wonder what was so funny. He “It is.” He calmed down, squeezing his hand tighter. “You always pretend you’re okay, but we know you aren’t. We know it’s hard.” He looked over to where Seokmin and Soonyoung were standing. “Not just for you, too, but…”

Seungcheol looked toward the house where Jun was yelling at the others through his own laughter. They had all been doing stupid dares, and Jun was apparently the unfortunate victim of a severe switch between salt and sugar. He was half-offended that they’d given him this when they all knew that he and his soulmate could taste what the other was eating. He didn’t want to scare them off by making them think he was some weirdo who messed around with weird flavor combinations.

“I mean it.” Mingyu brought him back to the moment, swinging their connected hands for a moment. “It’s hard, and we know you’re strong… But it’s okay if you aren’t, okay?” He smiled softly at him. “We can be strong with you.”

Seungcheol knew this well. He’d opened up to his friends before that he’d never find his soulmate and never know why they were meant for him. He’d seen the way everyone else seemed to fit together well. Seungkwan and his patient, caring soulmate who seemed to lovingly challenge him. Wonwoo and his quiet soulmate who seemed content to snuggle close to him and whisper little things that would make him smile. Vernon and his laid-back soulmate who would make playful jabs and match his energy. What would his soulmate be like? Would they be someone who enjoyed caring for others…? He’d started going on blind dates again a little after Vernon found his soulmate, and none of them seemed to work.

“The right person will find you,” was what Jeonghan said to him, laying down beside him, a week after Mingyu reassured him lovingly. “Whether they’re your soulmate or not, you’ll find them.”

But what if they don’t? Seungcheol shut his eyes. Not everyone lived like Jeonghan, who dreamed over and over of his soulmate until he finally found them. He’d fallen even deeper in love with his soulmate now that he could kiss them for real. Soonyoung had hugged Seungcheol a little longer the last time it was just the two of them. It was bothering him, and it bothered Seokmin, too. Jun knew his soulmate was out there, the same as Seungcheol. Those two…

Seungcheol chose to believe they had soulmates, too. Whether they were ordained by the universe or to be chosen by them in time, Seungcheol wasn’t sure. But if he had a soulmate, then Seokmin and Soonyoung had to, too. He had to hold onto hope with white knuckles when the others were starting to struggle. If he didn’t, then… Who would?

“I know,” Seungcheol sighed out. He turned onto his side, opening his eyes to watch how Jeonghan had pulled out his phone. “What did they send you this time?”

Jeonghan looked over, humming before the question sank in. “You don’t want to hear about my soulmate.”

He snickered a little. “I do! You don’t have to share, but you can still talk about them if you want to.”

Jeonghan angled his screen so that Seungcheol could see the long video essay (a rant about a book, apparently) that his soulmate had sent to him. “They’re watching this,” he said. He smiled a little more, eyes crinkling slightly, “They’re cute. I don’t know if I’ll watch it, but I like knowing what they’re watching.”

Seungcheol wondered what you were watching, wherever you were. “Jeonghan?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m glad you found them.”

Jeonghan dropped his phone onto the mattress beside him, and his hand found Seungcheol’s a moment later. “I’m glad I found you and Joshua.” He let out a soft hum. “I think I would have struggled much more without you two being in my life. So…” He turned his head. “Thank you for being here.”

Seungcheol’s grip tightened around his friend’s hand, and he found himself smiling. ��Yeah. You too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Joshua was nervously patting down his pockets for the fifth time in the past few minutes. “They’re not alone. I know grocery shopping for stuff like this gets hard, and—”

“I’m fine.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “I’ve done it alone before. Stop acting like I can’t handle myself. It’s fine that you’re worried—”

“I’m not worried,” Joshua immediately said. “I’m fine. They’re not alone, I’m fine, I just—” He let out a sigh. “It’s mostly my list. I’ll take my things off, and you can just worry about the staples, and—”

Seungcheol managed just fine most days when he needed to get groceries. After all, most things had labels on them or near them in some shape or form. Unfortunately, there were a few too many things that had colors written beside them. This list was more Joshua’s list than his own (Joshua had plans to surprise his partner with a dessert they’d lovingly gazed at while out together a week ago), but Seungcheol didn’t mind doing this favor for him. He might have to ask for a little help if he needed to, but this was not as big a deal as it was being made into.

So he rested a hand on Joshua’s shoulder, stopping him from checking again that he had everything before he left. “They need you now,” he said, firm as can be. “Go. I can take care of this.”

Joshua dove forward, hugging Seungcheol tight for a moment. He drew back, “You’re a lifesaver. I’m sure everything’s fine, but—”

“Just go!” Seungcheol laughed softly. “Stop stalling.”

Joshua had thanked him one final time before taking off, the door slamming behind him. Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief. Finally. He looked at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. From what he heard from the on-speaker phone call Joshua had received from his partner’s roommate, Joshua’s soulmate had a slight accident during lunch and now they were waiting to get stitches at urgent care. Apparently, they were nervous about it due to being terrified of needles, and Joshua had gone from being chill and content to absolutely freaking out when their roommate said it was ‘worse’ than they kept trying to make it out to be. Joshua knew how bad his partner could be about undermining their pain. Hence him elevating to a nervous mess and needing to go see them to know how bad it really was.

Seungcheol was sure things were fine. And if they weren’t, then Joshua would be there. He looked down at the list, looking over Joshua’s neat handwriting. Right. The sooner he got back from shopping, the sooner he could take that off of Joshua’s mind. He’d glanced over the list once before leaving, and then again when he finally had a shopping cart at the store.

… What kind of dessert was this specific about the different apples it needed? No matter. Seungcheol could read the little chalk headings just fine. He snagged a little bag for the apples, and began scanning through the headings for the first kind he needed… only to see one of them had been smudged. One quick google search told him that one was pinker than the other. Shit. Of course.

“Excuse me,” Seungcheol said when someone had been close enough for him to flag down. “I’m…” He gestured vaguely toward his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t have to elaborate. “I can’t tell which one’s are the pinkish red ones yet. The, uh, the pink lady ones?”

Yet. The magic yet always found its way onto the ends of his sentences when it involved his soulmate. Maybe he should stop.

Yet you’d given him this pitiful smile, looking away. “Really bad luck, then,” you had said. “I can’t really help with that one. Same boat, you know?” You stepped to his side, reaching for one of the apples to turn and find the sticker. “But,” you dragged out the word, squinting at how tiny the words are. “I think these are the ones you’re looking for.” You had grabbed your own bag, looking for a few from the top of the bunch right next to these—a slightly different color, he was sure. “And these are honeycrisp, if you need those.”

Seungcheol began to gather a few, thanking you. A moment later, he stole a little glance at you. “So… You can’t see color, either?”

You had shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“You aren’t mad?”

You glanced over at him, brows drawing together. “At my soulmate? Not anymore. But when I was ten? I was pissed.” You let out a sigh. “I loved rainbows as a kid. Rainbow fish, rainbow fruit, rainbows in general… And then I woke up and it was all gone.”

Seungcheol frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shrugged. “Life is hard, but it’d be hard regardless.”

“But this is different.” Seungcheol looked back at the blurry chalk labels and how the letters blended into one another. “Isn’t it?”

“It is,” you nodded. “But… Sometimes they say people like us will lose it again once our soulmate dies. If that’s true, then I want to meet my soulmate and experience that world again together while we can.”

He’d never considered that before. He’d heard the same thing before, too. He spent so much of his life yearning for another person that was supposed to fit perfectly with him that he never thought about what came next after he met them. After all, Minghao and his soulmate had to adjust, didn’t they? The experience linked him to someone else, and it left Seungcheol wondering how his soulmate felt about all of this. Would this bond them? That’s what it was supposed to do, right? Seungkwan shared pain with his soulmate and now his number was one of their emergency contacts, and they were his number one priority when they were together. Joshua could still hear his soulmate sing even now, but softer than it was before (and it still grew softer every day since). There was the unity of a shared experience, and Seungcheol wondered if his soulmate would cry with him the first day they got to watch a sunset together.

“I see.”

“Other people are bothered by it and that’s okay,” you reached toward the top of the apples where they looked the juiciest. “I’ll find my soulmate one day, and then we’ll—”

All at once, life changed. You had lost your balance, and Seungcheol immediately reached to catch you. The bag fell from your grasp as your hands gripped his biceps to steady yourself, apples rolling across the floor as your eyes met his own. He stared at you, lips slightly parted as he tried to find his words just to ask if you were okay. Yet there was the strangest feeling flooding his chest, face growing warmer.

“Are you okay?”

Yet something was already changing. The first color he saw was your eyes, and the world grew warmer, more saturated with color by the second. He could see the purple of your sweatshirt, the reds and pinks and golds of the apples stacked up upon beige wood. The slate gray tile underneath his feet, the off-white lighting tinged with gold. He could kiss you now, and yet all he could do was look into your eyes again and commit the color to memory. He saw you as you were, and he wanted to commit every little detail and blemish and imperfection to memory.

Your surprise gave way to a smile. “Well… Hello, soulmate.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #s coups x reader #s coups x you

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sosa2imagines · 2 months

Text

Revenge for doll!

Warnings- Just fluff, Bucky being the best best boyfriend ever! -----------------------------------------------------

Bucky stares at you as you finish getting dressed, he notices the shine in your eyes and the way you excitedly fix your hair. He can already tell it's going to be a good day. As you turn around and smile at him, he can't help but smile back, your excitement is contagious.

“You look happy, doll.”, Bucky mentions as you prepare yourself to go to work. You nod, a smile dancing on your lips, “Yes, I am excited!!! I have been working hard on this project, and I think it's going to pay off!”

“That's great to hear!” Bucky replies with a hint of pride in his voice. He knows how hard you've been working and how much this project means to you. It's always nice to see you enjoy your work and have something to be happy about.

“Yeah, I think this is gonna be my breakthrough”, you reply with a smile. “I've been putting a lot into it, and I'm confident that I'll finally get some recognition for my efforts.”

“I’ll see you soon, bubba!” You say, grabbing your things and heading out the door. Bucky watches as you walk out, a warm smile on his face as he kisses you goodbye.

You arrive back from work within an hour of leaving, Bucky is surprised to see you so soon and asks, “Back so soon?”

Bucky looks at your face and can see clear as day, that something is wrong. He doesn't say anything though, as he knows that sometimes trying to dig into what happened right away isn't the best thing to do. Instead, he simply waits for you to speak when and if you're ready to do so. He watches you change from your work attire to your comfortable pjs and tank top.

You pouted and looked at him, before looking at the bed and Bucky was quick to be by your side. You and Bucky lounged lazily together in bed. You were on top of Bucky, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, his hand was inside your tank top, drawing soothing patterns on your back, as his other hand caressed through your hair. You’d had a bad day and you still hadn’t even spoken a word to Bucky.

But Bucky didn’t mind.

After some minutes passed away, you mumbled loud enough, so he can hear you, as if his super hearing was not enough. “Sorry.”

Bucky sighed, not bothering to shift your position. There was a small pause and he spoke softly. “What for?”

“For me being like this...” you furrowed your brows, as if he could see you. “Like what, doll?” Bucky asked. He was in no rush to speak he just wanted to hear what you were willing to share. His hands, however, were busy, rubbing against your back in soft circle and caressing your head.

“Coming home like this and spoiling the whole mood...” you pouted, taking in his cologne.

He chuckled softly as his fingers brushed against your skin. “It's okay. You've had a bad day, that's not your fault. I wouldn't want you to pretend you have a good mood, when you're hurting.”

“You don’t deserve this…” your voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“Hey I've been with you for the past two years. I know that you have days that are hard. I know that you get moody sometimes.” He let out a small chuckle. “You've seen me in my worst moments, doll. I'm a big boy I can handle days like today. I've dealt with worse. Let me take care of you, let me spoil you.”

You finally moved your head from his neck, to look at him, “I'm lucky to have you...”

“Yeah?” Bucky chuckled. He moved the hand from your chin to your cheek, and lifted the other to trace a finger over your eyebrows. “You're lucky that you have me?”

“Yes.... You are too precious for me!” you tell him confidently.

Bucky hummed, a chuckle escaping his lips. His hand stilled for a moment, and he tilted his head to the side as he looked down at you. He moved moved both hands to cup both sides of your face, squeezing gently.

“I’m ready to talk now…” you voice was muffled, as he squeezed your cheeks again.

“You are?” Bucky asked softly, not really surprised. His grip was firm, but not too tight, and his thumbs rubbed against your cheeks. It was calming, his touch putting you to ease. “Alright, then. Tell me... tell me what happened.”

“Ackerman”, the moment you said your boss’s name, Bucky’s body tensed as he got a feeling this is going to be bad.

“The project I was working upon, Ackerman he gave all the credit of the project to Rosalina and promoted her.” Your eyes immediately well up, but you tried to control your tears.

Bucky's hands stilled for a moment as he thought about the implications of what you were saying. “He did that... when it was your project? The one that you spent hours on?” Bucky asked, his brows furrowing as one hand released your face to rest by his side. “That's unfair. And not right...”

“All the hard work and time, wasted and down the drain… Ackerman was like I see you have potential, but Rosalina is more capable of this”

Bucky was fuming now. “More capable? How is she more capable? You were the one working diligently on this project and she took credit for it when she did absolutely nothing. She gets a promotion, when you were the one who spent hours on this?”

“Trust me I did murder Ackerman in my head, the moment he gave her the credit and promotion.”

“I wouldn't blame you if you did.” Bucky mumbled, his jaw stiffening as he spoke. He let out a small, frustrated grunt. “You deserved the damn credit. You deserve to have the damn promotion. Not her not someone who uses her body to get what she wants.”

That genuinely made you laugh, you were happy to know Bucky remembers the office gossip you share with him. “I know but Ackerman doesn't, since then I can't stop fantasizing revenge scenarios against him.”

“Well...you know, he'd look really good with a black eye.” Bucky said the words with a teasing grin, but there was underlying threat in his tone, “I can always help you out with this, you know.” He'd do it too, if given a chance. If he ever saw Ackerman face to face, he'd give him a good punch in the face, no regrets.

“I know you will. I quit the job…” Bucky was close to giving you the angry puppy look, so you quickly cut him off “I was wasting my time there…maybe I should consider somewhere else” to that Bucky gave you a nod, though the pout was still there.

“Just for future knowledge he goes to the local bar every Friday night near the office.” That got his attention, “Does he now?” Bucky's grin grew wider as he noted your words, “And when you say every Friday night... you mean he’ll be there tonight?” “Yes.”

“Well now,” Bucky's grin was now almost sinister, “I think I'm just going to have to pay a visit to this bar tonight.” “Are you serious? No bubba, you won’t do anything.” “Fine, but I’ll be right back, I have to meet Sam for something.” He made the most adorable face, you could never say no to.

“Just Sam? No paying visit to Akerman?” “Yup and yup. Anything else, doll? ” “Just keep him alive.” It was no surprise that you had figured out his plan. “Alive?” Bucky tilted his head to the side, his grin even wider. “Huh... I'll see what I can do, but don't count on it.” Bucky chuckled, as he stood up, stretching out his arms as he did so. He then looked back at you, letting out his signature grin before he left.

Bucky was in the car with Sam, a look of concern on his face. “Kindly tell me, why am I in this?” Sam is clearly confused as to why he is there and he is trying to explain to Bucky why beating your boss up isn't a good idea. In his confusion, he keeps looking over at Bucky, who keeps shooting him a glare to try and get him to stop talking. “It's for doll's sake!”, he tells Sam bluntly.

Before heading to your boss, Bucky decides to take a detour to Tony Stark's house. They soon arrive and enter his house. As soon as they enter, Tony takes notice. “Bucky?” he asks, a confused look on his face.

Bucky tells Tony that he should give you a job, since he knows that he treats you like a sister and has wanted you to work for him for a long time. Meanwhile Sam, just looks at the two shaking his head. Tony looks at him for a moment, then back at Bucky. “You're serious?” he asks, disbelief evident in his voice.

“Yes!” Bucky gives him the angry puppy look which for some reason Tony can’t say no to, even though Tony had already made his mind, to give you the job. “Bucky, you know I've always wanted her to work for me. She's brilliant and creative, and I know she'd be an asset to my team.”

“Thank you, Tony.!” Sam tries to interfere again and explain to Bucky, “She got a new job now, we don’t need to beat her ex boss!” but Bucky doesn't listen and ignores him completely. Tony meanwhile encourages him to go through with the beating, “He deserves it for making her miserable back there, right?”

“Tony!” Sam warns him, but Tony just scoffs. “Shut up Wilson.”

Sam warns Tony not to encourage Bucky, but Tony scoffs “You know Barnes, Pepper had a boss once who treated her terribly and tried to take away everything she loved,” he explains with dramatic effects, “and I made sure to get back at them for it. It was completely justified, and I have no regrets.”

“Really?” Bucky asks in awe. “Yes, really.” Tony tells him mischievously. While Sam face palms himself. Soon the trio heads towards the bar, yeah Tony tags along, saying he and FRIDAY can help.

As Sam drives, Tony questions “what should we call this mission?” Sam visibly annoyed and worried snorts “Operation Vengeance” and Tony scoffs, “That's far too boring of a name! We need something cooler that'll set the tone for what's to come.”

“Revenge for doll!” Bucky says innocently, Sam raises an eyebrow and Tony laughs, “Now that's a name I can get behind. Revenge for doll it is.”

As soon as the trio reached the bar, Tony ordered FRIDAY to control everyone’s phones and cameras.

“This is a bad idea!” “This is a good idea!” “Revenge for doll! Ackerman!!!!!!!”

It had been more than two hours, you were pacing back and forth, waiting for Bucky to come back home.

“I'm back.” A few hours later, Bucky walked back into the apartment, the grin still on his face. His hands were bloodied, and his clothes were a bit messy. He was clearly...well, he looked like he been in a fight. “That went...incredibly well.”

“Bubba!! Are you okay?” you immediately began to check him for any injuries. Even though he is a super solider, you always worried about him, like he is a normal human being.

Bucky laughed, because he was really fine, “I'm perfectly fine, doll. Ackerman not so much, but don't worry about him.” Despite his reassuring words, there was a small cut just under his eye. You knew no matter how much you ask, he won’t tell you, so you silently kissed the cut, “My hero.”

Bucky smiled “Just protecting my doll” he said softly, cupping your chin and tilting your head up. His voice was still quiet, “Now, don't worry about the blood, it's not mine.”

“Oh, I know. He is alive...though right?” Bucky nodded, though he didn't elaborate further. “Alive enough.” Was Ackerman living? Yes. Did he have a broken nose? Yes. Had he fallen on the floor? Also, yes. Was he going to be hurting a lot tomorrow? Yes. Did he deserve every bit of it? Absolutely.

“So how about we celebrate your new job, on the couch, the counter, the bed and every single place in the apartment?” He looks at you mischievously making you blush. “What new job?” You ask, chuckling a bit.

“Stark wants you to work for him.” “Bubba! You didn’t?” you grin and Bucky nods happily.

You jump straight into his arms, “Hmm we should celebrate…” you giggle and Bucky captured your lips.

#sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #mcu #the avengers #avengers x reader

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my-on-and-off-writingstuff · 1 year

Text

When pregnancy takes over | Daemon X Reader

Summary: based on this request: Hey, dear! if you are taking requests could i get a daemon x pregnant fem!reader, from discovery, to body changes, mood swings, weird cravings, difficulty finding a sleeping position, to delivery. Just him being a good husband and father and helping her regardless of the situation, with a lot of fluffy please?

warning: Cursing, child labor.

Daemon walks into the room he shares with you happy to be able to finally hold you in his arms after a long day having to listen to Otto Hightower go on and on about... Well, he did not remember. “Y/N?” he does not see you immediately and he scans the room and the adjoined bedroom but no trace of you. Neither can he find a note or something else that would point him in your direction. he reopens the door to the room and peaks around the corner in the hope of finding one of the servants or even better one of your maids.

However, the hallway was empty. He cursed under his breath as panic started to rise. You normally always left him a note or send someone to him to let him know where you were going to be. But he had nothing to go off now. He was wrecking his brain trying to figure out of you mentioned someone thing but as far as he knows you only mentioned going out riding but that was this morning, and you never were this late. Right? He was pacing the room trying to figure out where you could have gone. What if something happened to you?

“My prince?” As fast as he can he turns around to see one of your maids in the doorframe. Not remembering her name, he walks towards her. “Where is my wife? Tell me you have seen her!” “She went to the maester my prince, she left 15 minutes ago.” The maid’s eyes are wide while she is looking everywhere except at him words flowing from her mouth. The girl was starting to say something else, but Daemon just brushed past her running to the domain of the maesters nothing else than his wife on his mind.

Two guards were stationed in front of the door of the maester, guards he had assigned to her. At least he had found you however his panic did not subside. You would not have gone to the maester if it was not for something serious. He opens the door, and they slam against the wall. Both his wife and the maester look at them startled. The maesters hands are hovering on your stomach. A scowl comes on your face when you see Daemon standing there panting after having run all the way from your shared room to the basement where the maesters domain is.

“Daemon what are you doing here?” he slowly steps forward and stands opposite of the maester. His hand grasps yours and he slowly makes circles with his thumb across your hand. “I could ask you the same question?” you look up to the maester who nods before your attention is back on Daemon. “I have not had my monthly, I am late by two weeks.” His eyes find yours before meeting the maester as to double confirm. “I still need to do some tests, but I am quite sure the princess is expecting.” Daemon lifts you in his arm, curling you against his chest. “We are going to have a baby!” “Yes, my love we are going to have a baby.” you confirm while a happy tear makes its way down your face. Daemon takes your head between his hands while prepping your face with kisses. “We are having a baby.” He smiles and captures your lips.

___

Daemon was supposed to come back from a two-week trip. He was sent to deal with a lord that did not want to pay any taxes to the crown. The king had sent him after Daemon had created a little political. He had bashed in the head of a lord’s son who had made some remarks about you and Daemon had lost it. Slamming his fist in the arrogant man’s face and not stopping until the king’s guard had forcibly moved him off the man.

Normally if Daemon was supposed to come back from a trip you would have been waiting at the dragon pit for him. But with the recent development and the increased nausea, you opted to stay within the castle walls. Nestled into the couch with a blanket around the lower half of your body reading a book Daemon had brought for you. However, every few seconds your eyes would flit to the door checking if he was already here. Any time now he was supposed to walk through the door at least that’s what the maid said when she announced that Caraxes had been seen flying above Kings landing.

Sounds could be heard from behind the door and expectingly you looked up from your book to find your husband standing in the doorway. “Daemon!” you breathed out quickly standing up from the couch. The blanket pooled around your feet showing off the slight baby bump you had developed. You were now 16 weeks pregnant, and you had started to show quite a much more when he was away. His eyes draw to your stomach.

Daemon walks towards you fast but before he reaches you, he stops. Hesitantly he looks at you before breaching the last few steps between you. He carefully takes you into his arms. Hugging you to his chest before going down on one knee. His hands find your bump. You smile down at him, as he looks up at you amazed. “She has grown so much in so little time.” he kisses the bump and your hand rests in his hair. “How are you so sure it’s she?” you ask while enjoying the moment of seeing your husband so attentive and tenderly. “I just do.” You hit him softly laughing while kissing his forehead. “That’s not a reason.” He rises up and captures your chin with his thumb. “I am always right.” a cocky smile is resting on his face, and you can’t help but laugh out loud at these words.

“Love, you are almost never right.” He playfully slaps your behind before twirling you around. “You know I think your breast got bigger as well.” “Daemon!”

___

You sniffle after finally reading the last chapter of the book. The book you had been reading for days and it unexpectedly turned out to have a very sad ending. “Oh gods, not again.” Daemon signs from his chair across from you. Closing his own book and standing up from his chair. Carefully he lifts you up from your chair and places you back down on his lap. He was trying to console you and soothe you. His thumb circling on your back and the other thumb was brushing your cheek while he was talking nonsense to get you to stop crying. Your belly was just slightly in the way.

Against all odds Daemon has been very supportive when your mood swings started to hit you in full force. He had been supportive when you had started to cry when your favorite flavor of cake accidentally fell, or when you cried about Caraxes being chained down in the dragon pit with no other dragons who like him. Hell, he loved the moments when your anger shone through especially when that anger was not directed at him. He still talks about how you called Otto a cunt in front of the entire court when he had made an underhand comment about Daemon.

“I can’t help that I feel this emotional Daemon.” You hiccup while trying to escape his arms feeling guilty about showcasing your emotions. “I know love I know.” he keeps you within his arms pressing light kisses on your forehead. “You don’t know anything Daemon, this is all your fault.” Your anger is making its way to the forefront and with wide gestures, you gesture to your stomach. “It takes two to make a baby, love.” You hear Daemon try to not choke out a laugh at your expression of anger. “Yeah, but you are insatiable.” This time his laugh is full-blown.

When he calms down, he takes your face in between his hands and kisses you’re your anger melts off you and you melt against him. The reason why you cried, and the anger Daemon provoked in you long forgotten. As his hands brush away your tears you close your eyes. “Are you tired, love?” You nod and lower your head against his chest. “let’s get you to bed.” He carefully lifts you into his arms and walks towards the bed.

“Even if I get angry, I still love you.” You mumble against his chest. He laughs softly while sliding into the bed next to you. You lay your head on his chest. “I love you the most when you get angry, you get all fierce and riled up.”

___

You sighed and closed the book you were reading. Your husband did not look up from the book he was reading. Both you and Daemon had made it a habit to read in the solar while enjoying some tea. Or well in Daemon’s case some wine with it. To attract his attention without asking for it you sighed again. You did not want to be a bother to him again, but your cravings had made themselves known again and you could not exactly fly out yourself to get them. Not that daemon would ever allow it.

“Dae?” you asked softly when he did not look up from his book. He slowly lifts his head. His finger traces the paper of the book, and you have to mentally drag yourself away from his hand to concentrate on getting him to do your bidding. “You know those sweets we enjoyed in Lys, with the Pistache?” Daemon closes the book fully and his gaze lands on you. “I do, why? He looks uncertain at you slowly realizing what you were probably after. “Would you be able to get them for me?”

You stand up from the chair you were sitting in and go to stand behind him. your belly is slightly in the way when you lay your arms around his shoulder, hugging him from behind. You rest your head in the crook of his neck. Smelling his familiar scent as it engulfs you. “I can ask the kitchen to make them for you.” His hand finds one of yours as he connects them together. “Nooo, it’s not the same.” You whine as you place a kiss just below his jaw. Knowing that kissing that spot makes him weak.

“You don’t expect me to fly across the Narrow Sea to get you some sweets, are you?” you can feel he is smiling when he speaks the words, and you know that you almost have your way. “I mean, I am not the only one that wants them.” You smile at him and gently caress the now reasonable bump for emphasis. A bit longer and you would not be able to see your feet anymore. “The babe was not even there yet.” He stands up and pulls you flush against him. Kissing you before bending down to press a kiss against your belly. “Well let’s go then, up for a little ride?” You smile at him. “Of course.” You hook your arm through his and the two of you make your way to the dragon pit to sate the little dragon inside you.

___

You groan and for the thousand times this night, you try to turn around to find a comfortable position in the bed. A soft snoring sound comes from your right, and you promptly turn your back to it to block out the sound of Daemon sleeping so peacefully. You never knew you could be so jealous of somebody sleeping. But no matter what you did you could not find a comfortable position. The babe was kicking like it was running away from a dragon, and a burning feeling made its way up your throat every so often. You stared out of the window, and you could not decide which side was worse, the slow glow of the light streaming through the window indicating that it was in fact becoming morning or your husband sleeping.

Slowly you turn back on your back, and silently wish that you could lay on your stomach. However, a big bump had been restricting that movement for months now. An arm is slung over your belly. The little bastard inside of you immediately calms down. And you huff out a sigh of annoyance. “You should have woken me up sooner.” Daemon softly raps out in his morning voice as his thumb softly strokes your belly. “I did not want to wake you; you had a long day.”

‘It also my child, if you are suffering, I should be too.” His other arm sneaks underneath you and he pulls you against him. You rest your head on top of his chest and for the first time this night, you feel at peace. Your insides are silent, and your head is elevated enough to not feel the heartburn. “Thank you.” You yawn while closing your eyes. Daemon only hums and presses a kiss on your forehead. “Yeah, yeah get some sleep, before the maids are barging down our doors.

___

“Where the fuck is Daemon?” You rip the cloth away from your forehead, the cloth that only seconds ago was laid on your forehead by one of the maids. Another one was trying to console you by taking your hand. But you wanted none of it. At this moment in time, you could not stand anybody’s touch. The only touch you wanted had been banned from the delivery room. or to quote the old twat tasked with delivering the baby. “A delivery room is no place for a prince.” A prince he could be, but Daemon had known full well how to create that baby so the least he could do was to help you through it.

“Milady the delivery room is...” “yeah, not a place for a prince, I do not care, Lily go fetch him.” The maid in question dropped whatever she was doing before all but running out of the room. Another contraction hit and beads of sweat were gushing down your back and forehead. “My lady let me wipe it away.” You grunted through the pain. “No, no, I only want my husband.” As the contraction finally subsided you rested against the pillows.

“Milady it is time to start pushing.” you reopened your eyes after having closed them after feeling the last contraction ebbing away. “No, no not without my husband, I need Daemon.” You did not care that the words sounded desperate, but you needed him. So many women passed away in child labor or the consequences of it. There was no way you were going to spend your last possible moments without Daemon and if you survived, the first person you wanted to see your child was him. “Please milady be compliant it is the best for you and the babe.” You desperately shook your head, tears gathering. “I will be compliant when my husband arrives you old goat.”

The old goat in question sighed and moved a bit back to give me some space and busied himself with the making of a paste. Your own maid softly brushed the hair out of your face and with a little constraint, you were able to tolerate it instead of shaking her off. “Daemon?” you asked her softly. “Is coming milady do not fret.” You nodded and closed your eyes again, trying to rest a little before the next contraction would hit. Not so secretly wishing that this torture would end. If you survived this, he was not getting another child.

The doors of your room were dramatically thrown open, scarring everybody who was inside. Without opening your eyes, you knew who had just entered the room in his usual dramatic ways and you smiled. He had come. Your Targaryen prince was here. “My prince, I have tried to talk to milady, but she does not want to listen, a delivery room is no place for a prince.” You had never been this mad at a person before and if you could, you would have sacked the maester from his job, however, it was a little late for that as the babe was well on its way now. “I remember when I took my vows that I promise to be with her, wherever she goes I go, she wants me here, I will be here.” With that Daemon turned his back to the old goat and sat in the chair next to the bed.

His hand found yours, with his other hand he took the cloth from one of the maids and carefully caressed your forehead with it. “I am here love.” He softly kissed your lips when he saw the contraction hit. “He told me to be compliant.” You huffed when the next contraction ebbed away. Daemon let out a laugh and touched his forehead with yours. “Never become compliant love.” You laugh at him and the pain of being in labor slowly fades away.

Daemon was there for every push every contraction. Holding your hand, cracking jokes, wiping away the sweat and tears. At one point he moved behind you, so whenever the contraction was done you could rest against him. “You know I can see the little top of his head.” At this point, Daemon was hanging over you trying to get a glimpse of the baby. “Well, if his head is out then he can get himself out without bothering me.” You hissed when another contraction hit. “Just a few more pushes, just a few more.” He kisses your neck. Finally, with a last push, the baby slides out of you.

Tiredly you close your eyes, however not for long until you hear a tiny cry. Your little one is alive, strangely you feel empty without the babe, and you know you have to do some more pushing. You almost push him out of the bed. “Go, go look if the babe is healthy, I do not trust that old goat.” He smiles at you adoringly and gives you one more kiss before happily going to bother the maids who were tasked with cleaning the babe. You hear his chattering with the maids as he is hurrying them along so he can hold his child. Just as the maids are cleaning you up Daemon turns back to you with the babe in his arms. Daemon looked so attractive, with his happy smile on his lips, his hair all tousled up, his clothes wrinkled and the little one in his arms. It almost made you want another one.

“It is a boy it seems that I was wrong in my prediction, Y/N you gave me a healthy boy.” You laugh and stretch out your arms for him and the babe. “Can the woman who did all the work hold her son then?” He smiles and comes forward. “I don’t know, I could argue I did all the work.” You huff and shove his shoulder softly. He laughs and kisses you before settling the baby in your arms. “He is wonderful.” You softly touch the cheek of your son while looking up at your husband. “Thank you for standing by me during my pregnancy with all my demands.” “You deserved those demands, but I do not want to see the city of Lys for a little while I cannot eat one more of those sweats.”

#daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon x reader #house of the dragon #daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fancficton #hotd #game of thrones #daemon targaryen oneshot #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x y/n

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jiminbility · 4 months

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Just imagine both you and Mingi going feral of the thought getting you pregnant. It's just a kink that both you and him share and to act sometimes out when you are in the mood. At first you two always fucked with a condom but after a while into your relationship you both talked about a different kind of protection. It didn't took long and after an appointment at your gynecologist you simply decided to just use the pill. Of course there is a chance of getting pregnant just as with a condom as well.

"Mingi", you moaned as his fingers glided from your neck down to your lower abdomen, pressing slightly on the flesh. "Fuck baby, you're taking me so well". He started to thrust into you faster, moving his body closer to you so his lips were ghosting over your ear. "Yes baby, feeling so good", he grunted. You were seeing stars as he was hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

"M-mingi, fuck I'm gonna come", you moaned as your eyes rolled back, not getting to hold it any longer as the knot in your lower belly finally snapped. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably as you came.

"There you go, f-fuck". Mingi groaned when he felt you coming, thrusting into you a bit slower to help you ride out your orgasm. He stopped for a moment completely to lift your legs a bit to place them on his shoulders. You mewled at this new position, especially as you felt his pelvis pressing hard against your swollen clit.

"I'm gonna fill you up to the brim. Making you so full of my cum", he grunted as his pace began to get faster again. "You're going to look so beautiful all round and swollen for me baby."

You were squirming a bit because of the overstimulation but your boyfriends words alone could make you cum again embarrassingly fast. He pressed his forehead against yours with both arms on each side of your head. Your hands were behind his neck, pulling him closer to your face. The kiss was heated but filled with so much love. You pulled back and you two just stared into each other's eyes. You guys always liked to play your little fantasy out and secretly you know that neither you nor him would be opposed of it if the pregnancy test states that you are positiv.

Mingi found your g-spot again, making your toes curl. "P-please Mingi, cum inside me. Put a, ah fuck, put a baby in me." It didn't took long as your walls were squeezing him again. He could feel his own release coming. His thrusts were getting sloppier as he was chasing his own orgasm, eyes closed and getting high at the feeling of you squeezing him heavenly. He let out a groan followed by a grutual moan as his cum filled you to the brim.

A gasp left your lips as he pushed his dick all the way to the hilt, staying like this for a few seconds. "S-so full Mingi, please". Mingi lowerd his face towards yours again, caressing your cheek. "I know baby, you did so good for me." He pressed a loving kiss on your lips. You guys stayed in this position a little longer enjoying the intimate moment before he pulled out of you. He leaned back watching his cum dripping out of your hole.

He cleaned you up a bit before carrying you to the bathroom, filling the bathtub with warm water and your favorite bath bomb. The scent of peaches and strawberries were filling up your nostrils as he helped you inside the tub. He soon followed after you. You were laying inside, enjoying the soft touches of each other before starting to wash each other's body and hair.

Later that night, you did a test. You were not pregnant. Maybe next time, who knows.

#ateez #song mingi #ateez mingi #ateez smut #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi #ateez mingi smut #scenarios #mingi imagines

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a-certain-romance · 1 year

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sharing more housewife reader and making people happy fr

this time we got ladies w dicks to make it more intesting

dehya loves her house wife after awhile of being a merc and not being able to see her housewife and catching her ass in the kitchen she just has to bend you over and pull you head a bit while her dick is deep in you doggy style

then we have candace who would be falling inlove with the scent you bring to her house and cooking and cleaning whenever the villiage needed to be proctected just makes her want to 69 with you just so you cna enjoy her dick while also being pleasured at the same time<3

beidou and house wife reader mean that their gonna be dealing with their drunk wife(beidou) 24/7 beidou apperciaite whenever you take care of her while shes drunk and she loves her hard working wife so hard she hates the fact shes been ignoringnyou for drinks so in the small wave riders she fucks you deep and content letting you cock warm her and move your hips against her to just sob and beg her to just doggy style you instead of driving the boat but you arent lifting a finger till your at the island shes gonna fuck you at

jean and lisa w house wife reader is magical like lisa is very teasing and makes you moan every single time she slowly gropes you however for jean you can lay on her lap for hours being cormftable on her thigh without her knowing sometimes (but she does notice and kinda finds it cute) whenever yohr truly all in the mood lisa is on anal while jean just rubs infront of you so you can slowly suck on her sadly jean is a bit rough she doesnt it mean it tho!!:(( lisa always cormforts her by giving you or a her soft kiss and kissing your tears away whenever jean pounds you they can be so rough sometimes

ngl next is teacher reader and a kid falls inlove w them so jealous jealous jealous!!

A/N: I. Love. Long. Asks. Housewife anon ily & u read my mind I was just about to say u need a name atp! This is the most tags I’ve ever used on a fic haha. Also my tumblr is acting weird and I can’t see the words I pasted so pink font here we go.

Warnings: Smut written by a minor, anal (Deyha)(Beidou)(Lisa), Hair pulling (Deyha), 69 position (Candace), Oral R giving (Candace)(Jean), Confined spaces (Beidou), Creampie (Beidou), Cockwarming (Beidou), Plug w/ cock (Beidou), Spanking (Lisa), Pet names (Lisa:Kitten), crying (Jean), fluff (all)

Link to Pt1, Pt2, & Pt4

- The thing about Deyha is that she’s big

- Rather than shoving it as far as she can she eases into you slowly. And when her front meets your ass she’ll start playing with your clit to pass the time as you get used to the size.

- When she starts to thrust she’ll make you take her cock all the way to the hilt, back to the tip and all the way in again. Every time she moves it touches your inner walls in all the right places.

- Although she starts out gentle she will slowly begin to lose it. It’s been so long since she’s had your sweet cunt wrapped so tightly around her. She just can’t catch a break with being a merc and a bodyguard, so in this moment she just need to fuck your hard

- As your tongue rolls out of your mouth and drool starts to pool down to the marble countertops. She’ll stick 2 fingers down your throat and chide you for making such a mess so as she pounds away.

- You were a spice trader before you settled down in Arue village with Candace.

- Every time you came into her home you smelled like a blend of cinnamon and calla lillies. And now she gets to wake up to that scent every day.

- Your knowledge of spices leads you to always cook the most delicious meals and bake the most flavorful delicacies. Your reputation has made its way across your travels and Candace couldn’t feel any more lucky.

- On the days that a heavy sandstorm hits, you toil away in the kitchen baking batches upon batches of sweets to feed the entire village. You learned quicker that your dishes create a calming affect and it helps those with anxiety over the monsters in the sand.

- She’ll catch you handing them out after the sandstorm dies down and helps hand out the rest. Once everyone’s had their share you pack up the leftovers as Candace showers. Most times when Candace is out fighting for her village you welcome her back with soft sex. Everyone looks up to her for protection, and there’s so much on the line when she ventures out, not fully knowing if she’ll come back in one piece. Having you in her arms makes her believe she can withstand anything that comes her way.

- She’s so worked up this time around. She wastes no time in practically dragging you to the bed. She doesn’t know if she should pleasure you first or the other way around.

- So of course the only option was to set your pussy down on her face as you drop your mouth down to the base of her cock. Candace loves the feeling of your weight on her. It doesn’t matter if you feel you’re crushing her, your closeness is a reminder that you’re safe and sound, and going through all the scars and sandstorms are worth it if it means she gets to protect you.

- You finally let her cock enter your mouth, your thumb running up and down the length of the shaft and occasionally gripping it. At the same time Candace rolls her tongue into you further, and in seconds your cum starts to drip down her face.

- You pull your mouth out when her cock starts to twitch and you know her climax is coming. Ropes of her cum shoot out and paint your face, neck and breasts white

- Beidou drives the waverider far out onto the water but stops halfway to the island.

- You’re confused at first, why would she stop the boat in the middle of the water? She hops out from the drivers seat and pulls you down, now knowing that the reason she stopped was so she can fuck you without any distractions.

- Being in a such a small waverider gives her no other choice but to fuck well and deep, your panting even starts to fog up the windows with how rough she’s being. She doesn’t stop until her hot, thick cum is gushing out of you and dripping down your thighs.

- And she still feels so guilty for choosing drinks over you, so she keeps her dick plugged into you and has you cockwarm her until you reach the island. She just wants to be closer to you for as long as your here with her. Neither of you are fully satisfied, but she doesn’t let you ride her, not yet at least. Beidou knows she’s being a bit rough this time so she’s intent on focusing all her attention on you.

- When you get to the island she abruptly pulls out and guides you (and your wobbly legs) to a nice picnic laid out on the beach, blankets and baskets and everything. And there isn’t even any alcohol, only a sweet Sunsettia and Lavender Melon juice blend that she promises is worth dying for.

- Despite your pleas, she avoids anymore sexual contact until you’ve had your fair share of food and drink. Conversations with her flow freely, but you can just ignore the want between your legs.

- After you both packed up the remaining leftovers, she’ll shove you to lay down with your knees under your stomach, roll down your pants, and take you from behind. “This is what you wanted wasn’t it?” She grunts out, “You were just begging for me to ram my cock into you doggy style barely an hour ago”

- You should get rewarded like this more often

- Lisa’s groping you anywhere, and that doesn’t stop at just your body. No no no Lisa will take any chance to tease you whether that’s behind closed doors or against the Library stacks. It’s all worth it for the small noises you make, like you’re just a tiny little kitten under her.

- When she gets behind you she traces the curve of your ass before delivering spank after spank to hear your cries. Lisa might not admit it often, but hearing you beg really gets her going. There’s just something about your voice that makes her want to hear you reach your limits.

- Jean loves having you around! She’ll take up any chance that has you by her side, doesn’t matter when or where. She’ll tell you you’re cute plenty of times but she wholeheartedly believes that words can’t encompass how she feels about you.

- Jean’s sorry about being too rough with you, she really doesn’t mean it! It’s just that when she looks down on you and sees those needy, teary eyes obediently sucking on her length she can’t help but shove the rest of her cock farther down your throat. You always feel so filled and so content with the both of them.

- But let’s be honest, despite how rough they can be, aftercare with them is heaven. Lisa holds you in her arms while Jean draws a bath. When you all get in the tub Jean massages shampoo in your hair while Lisa sensually washes your body, not ever missing a single patch of skin.

- Lisa is always the he first to get out. Jean kisses every inch of your skin that she can reach as she wipes the suds off your body. When you and Jean finish drying off Lisa has prepared a tray with tea and scones for all of you to enjoy

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panda-writes-kpop · 1 month

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I NEED A FLUFF ALPHABET FOR THE REMAINING 7 MEMBERS OF TWICE, STAT (PREFERABLY STARTING TZUYU AND THEN JIHYO) BUT WHATEVER ORDER YOU CHOOSE IS FINE BY NEED, I JUST NEED OT9 TWICE FLUFF ALPHABET NOWWWWWW--

Tzuyu Fluff Alphabet (Requested!)

a/n: of course, lovely! I am so happy you enjoyed my previous works on the Twice members, and I'm happy to (albeit slowly) work on all of the twice fluff alphabets! ❤️ also final exams are this week, please keep me in your prayers as I attempt to pass three exams. 🥲

tw: none!

♡ Masterlist ♡

Affection (How do they show their affection? What love language(s) do they use?)

Not wanting to overwhelm you or herself, she chooses to express her love in quick kisses, subtle touches, and small gestures. Tzuyu definitely shows her love in acts of service along with quality time - there’s nothing better than making you smile with a small gesture as the two of you are together.

Beauty (What do they admire about their S/O? What makes their S/O beautiful?)

You can catch her staring at your face a lot, she’ll deny it to the stars and back, however. There’s something so intriguing and comforting about you that she’s drawn to, so she spends a lot of time studying you. Unfortunately, she can get a bit distracted when she stares at your lips and eyes for too long, so make sure to give her a quick kiss to bring her down to Earth.

Comfort (How would they help their S/O if they were having a rough day?)

Wherever she is at the moment, as long as it isn’t work-related or an unskippable commitment, Tzuyu will come to you if you call/text her that you’ve had a rough day. Of course, you’ll tell her that she could’ve just come to see you afterward, but she likes to show you that you’re a priority to her, and she’ll always be here when you need her the most.

Dreams (How do they picture their future with their S/O?)

Tzuyu wants a future where the two of you can share your culture and customs with one another. Whether you’re living in Korea, Taiwan, or your home country, she wants to keep learning everything about you, especially if you’re learning about each other in the process.

Equal (Do they tend to be more dominant or passive in the relationship?)

Tzuyu is the more passive person in the relationship, but she likes to plan small dates and outings together. You may have to do more of the heavy lifting when it comes to planning vacations or longer events (or your wedding :] )

Fight (Would they easily forgive their S/O after a fight? How would a typical fight go?)

Honestly, the two of you don’t get into serious arguments, it’s more so subtle disagreements about smaller issues. You both are quick to resolve the issue, move past it, and prevent any further problems because you don’t want to upset each other in the future.

Gratitude (How grateful are they for everything that their S/O does for them?)

Tzuyu isn’t the most verbal when it comes to her gratitude or praise, so she shows her thanks with small hand squeezes or a short, loving note attached to your fridge. If you catch her in a softer mood, she’ll wrap her arms around you and give you a long back hug as a thank you for everything that you do for her.

Honesty (Do they tend to keep secrets from their S/O, or do they share everything?)

Tzuyu is honest with her partner, but she doesn’t reveal everything immediately. She’s the kind of person who will randomly tell you a childhood story after you mention a topic relating to the story. Although she isn’t a yapper, she will tell you everything over time. You just have to be patient with her.

Inspiration (Did their S/O change them, or was it the other way around?)

You’re inspired by Tzuyu’s hardworking nature. No matter what is in her way, she always works through it with a graceful smile on her face. You find yourself trying to emulate her positive traits, which causes her to tease you at times for “trying too hard”.

Jealousy (Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

The “bite your tongue and don’t say anything unless you’re extremely uncomfortable” type. You’re an adult, you can handle being around someone your own age who is extremely attractive. Tzuyu doesn’t have to like it, but she quickly gets over it when you give her a small kiss or a quick hug.

Kiss (How often do they kiss you? Where do they like to kiss you?)

She doesn’t usually initiate the kiss, so how much you kiss is mostly up to you. If she does kiss you, it’s usually a quick peck to the cheek or your forehead. You can catch her off-guard and turn your head, causing your lips to meet. When this happens, Tzuyu usually deepens the kiss for a bit before shyly backing away from you.

Lazy Day (How do they like to spend days off with their S/O?)

Tzuyu likes to both stay in and go out when you both have a day off to spend with one another. You might sleep in late, all cuddle together, before going out to eat and do a little shopping before visiting an amusement park. You head back in the evening and watch your favorite show/movie as you fall asleep next to one another.

Marriage (Do they want to get married? How often do they think about marrying their S/O?)

It isn’t a constant thought in Tzuyu’s mind until she stares at you one day and thinks about how much she wants to spend the rest of her life with you. Then it nags at her for a bit before she confronts you, and you end up talking about what you want from your futures with each other.

Nicknames (What do they call their S/O?)

Babe, honey, darling

Standard, simple, and sweet, or she’ll just call you by your name if she wants to tease/annoy you.

On Cloud Nine (What are they like when they are in love? Is it extremely obvious to others?)

Tzuyu is mostly herself when she’s head over heels for you, except she may talk about you more often than her other friends or family, which gives people the hint pretty early on that you’re more than friends. Or she has a small Freudian slip and calls you her partner casually to her friends and family who had no idea that she was dating you.

PDA (Are they very upfront with their relationship, or do they prefer to keep things quiet?)

Tzuyu likes for most of her relationship to remain private, but she doesn’t mind sharing pictures or videos to social media for friends and family. She also tells them about you, whether it’s basic information, a fun story, or something romantic that you did for her.

Quirk (Some random personality trait that makes them an excellent partner.)

Tzuyu is respectful of you and your boundaries. Although she doesn’t move fast in any relationship, if you happen to want to move slower with her, she’ll happily do so for you. She always asks if it’s okay to kiss or touch you, especially if it’s the first time that you show affection to one another.

Romance (Are they a born romantic ready to woo their S/O at any moment, or do they struggle to spark romantic moments with their S/O?)

Tzuyu lies in a comfortable middle ground between the two options. She’s not a natural born romantic, but she’s not unable to spark romantic moments. If the mood calls for it, she’s willing to step up to the plate and be more romantic with you.

Support (How do they help support their S/O to reach their goals?)

She leaves small notes for you around the house and, if possible, quietly tells you how amazing you are and how you can accomplish anything if you put your mind to it. Tzuyu’s going to be there for you, no matter if you succeed or fail, just as you’ve been for her.

Thrill (Do they like trying out new things to spice up their relationship, or do they prefer to stick to a routine?)

Tzuyu likes to stick to routine, but she isn’t against you trying to spice up the relationship every once and a while. Bring her to a new restaurant or place that you can explore together.

Understanding (How well do they know their partner?)

Tzuyu has a deep understanding of you that’s come from being around you and admiring you from afar. She notices and appreciates your smallest quirks as much as your loudest personality traits.

Value (How important is the relationship to the person versus other relationships and things in their life?)

She tries to hold everything to equal value - her job, her romantic relationship, her familial relationships, and her platonic ones - but sometimes one has to come over another for a small period of time. You’ll always be important to her since you’re the one she wants to spend the rest of her time with.

Wild Card (A random fluffy headcanon that you have about the relationship?)

When you slip up and make a funny mistake, she won’t point and laugh or record you doing so. Instead, she softly exhales and teases you for a bit before helping you clean up.

XOXO (Do they like to kiss, hug, and cuddle you? How often do they do so?)

Although she won’t often initiate it, Tzuyu does like to hug, kiss, and cuddle you. She cuddles up to you every night you spend together, and when you’re watching movies or TV. Hugs are often her choice of greeting or comfort, along with a quick kiss.

Yearning (How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?)

Tzuyu usually dives into her work, hobbies, or other projects while you’re away. She does call you every night and will FaceTime you if you’re up to do so. She knows you’ll come back to her, it’s only a matter of time.

Zeal (Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

She doesn’t often say it, but Tzuyu will go to great lengths for the relationship. She’d sacrifice a lot for the two of you, but you have to show some appreciation or sacrifices of your own in order to make her invest fully in the relationship.

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bokettochild · 4 months

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Day 8 - "Why Won't It Stop?"

Took me forever, but this one is one that I am VERY pleased with. Part two will follow in later days

Wordcount: 4,847

Rating: Teen

Summary: An effect of abusing a god's power is that the soul of the deity is now bound to Time's own, and sometimes it has more power than he'd wish. usually, he can tame it, but learning the fate of the worlds he's left behind have made him slip, and the deity is intent on purging their legacy.

Written by request of @sweetlemonad

“It’s not like heroes can die anyways.”

The uncomfortable silence that follows those words is not something Time is particularly keen on learning the source of. The boys have all been in a rather good mood for most of the day, and currently Wind and Legend are trying to see who can outlast the other by remaining balanced on the rail fence that abuts the pathway on their right. He thinks Wind dared Legend or maybe the vet just got bored and Wind decided to follow. Either way, the elder is currently strolling along with his arms behind his head while Wind walks, precariously balanced and failing a bit here and there..

Balancing at sea and balancing on land are apparently exceedingly different.

He’s not particularly sure who’d started the conversation, but he thinks it was Warriors. The man has been a bit more stressed than he’d like these last few days, and the worry that something bad will happen to them definitely sounds like something the captain would express in order to keep the rest on their guard. The sudden way Legend falters, perfect balance suddenly failing and sending him flailing, is more telling than the silence that follows Wind’s words, and he finds it only right to offer a steadying hand to the younger man to stop him eating dirt.

Sky’s eyes settling on the sailor, confused, are just as telling.

“Right?” Wind looks between the vet, whose caught his balance and looks at the youngest with pricked back ears, gnawing his lip, and the chosen one who won’t meet their eyes. “Wait,” the kid glances back and forth again, as though to be sure, “they haven’t, right?”

The vet’s hand slips out of his own, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Wind, did you receive an education?”

“What’s that have to do with anything?” Hyrule asks, sounding a little miffed. They all know the boy’s lack of formal teaching is a bit of a sore spot considering the apparent circumstances of everyone else. Had he the right, Time would maybe let slip that the captain was entirely illiterate before his enlistment, but he’s not sure that exposing that would actually help anyone.

Their chosen hero and vet share a glance at the question though, some silent conversation slipping between them for a moment before Sky gives an encouraging look that seems to indicate Legend ought to be the one to handle this. It makes sense, he supposes, considering Legend is the one with purportedly the best education out of them, or at least the most up to date between himself and Sky.

“Alright,” the pink haired hero slips down to a seated position on the rail fence, and the rest of them take the cue to stop, themselves sitting or leaning against the railing as well, save the captain, who stands at something almost like parade rest as he listens. “So, I suppose it’s lost to time for most of you, but there was a hero- a couple actually, who fell to the enemy.”

“How?” Hyrule demands. “I thought our whole existence was based off some heavenly power calling us so evil was always stopped?”

Murmurs of agreement sound from the rest, but the vet shakes his head, although he’s also very clearly avoiding eye contact. “I wish it was that straight forwards. No, actually, there are two heroes, to my knowledge and as of my era, that are quite famous for dying in their efforts against evil.” Dark eyes lift to Sky. “One was the first hero, the one who fought beside Hylia herself.”

“Sky’s going to die?” Four breathes, utterly horrified.

The boys almost all turn to their skyloftian but are quickly assured by a sharp ‘no!’ from Legend and a soft “not me, guys” from the hero himself. “It was my predecessor,” Sky says once they’ve all stopped looking so horrified, “the one who crafted the Master Sword and sealed Demise away, ages before my time.”

“So you knew.” He finds himself asking, and his question is answered with a slow nod.

“I did.” He knew about fallen heroes. He knew that the only other hero to exist before him had died. Suddenly Sky seems all the more brave to the scar-faced leader; he couldn’t imagine going into his adventure knowing all the others who undertook it had died.

“The first hero,” Legend begins again, hesitantly, “is said to have sealed Demise away, but succumbed from his injuries shortly thereafter, leaving the heavens to call another hero after his passing: Sky.”

There are a few hums, and Twilight looks like he’s half a second from taking notes. No doubt, the rancher hasn't heard this bit of Hylian history before, and while his pup is certainly less interested in the history of the kingdom than he is in the workings of things and understanding the dark magics, the dear lad is, all the same, what Mido would call “a nerd”. He finds himself smiling at the thought, watching as his boy absorbs every bit of the knowledge the vet is sharing, and what little Sky uses to back him up.

“What about the second one?” Wild asks, staring at Legend oddly.

Abruptly, he finds himself realizing that the cub himself has also died at the hands of the enemy, and though revived through some magic he couldn’t explain, the fact that it happened at all means that he too belongs on Legend’s list. Would that mean that the vet follows after the champion in the course of things then? Good gracious, would that make Legend the same to Wild as Wild is to Twilight? As Twilight is to him?

The vet, unknowing of their leader’s thoughts, drops his gaze a bit, fiddling with the bracelet on his hand but eyes clearly on the mark of the triforce he still bears on his left hand, just as most of them do. “He was my predecessor.”

Deku Tree bless, is he right?

“A hero called from the forest and trained to the blade since childhood, only to fall when forced to face Ganon.” The vet’s face twists up in something between sorrow and frustration. “He was prepared the best anyone could try, but for nothing. Ganon ruled Hyrule for almost a decade before the rebellion that sent the fallen hero managed to amass enough power to strike again and seal him into the sacred realm.” There’s a pause where Legend takes a heavy breath that’s neither sigh nor resignation, but maybe just the slightest bit sorrow for their fallen brother, and the rest keep quiet for it too, as though in mourning for a hero they’ve never met. But that’s when the vet says it. “If not for the sages and Skeik, I’d never have gotten a chance to defeat the monster that killed my predecessor, but with the aid of the Hylian Knights, they managed to seal him away for nearly four-hundred years.”

Sheik.

He knows, from the war, from meeting Warriors and watching people of all eras amass, that Sheik isn’t especial to his own time. The captain’s own princess had taken on the disguise herself in order to take a more active role on the front lines, but even so, the name catches him off guard, as does the association with the sages, which he’s only ever heard Wind talk of before.

The sailor doesn’t miss the reference either, the sharp little whip that he is. “What were the sages called? Do you know?”

The vet blinks, staring and clearly confused, but rattles them off all the same. “Zelda, Impa, Nabooru, Saria, Ruto, Daruna, and Rauru?”

The sailor nods, but the ground feels like it’s being swept out from under Time’s feet as the words sink in and that sunshine bright gaze is turned to him. Wind already has some eager words on his lips before his face falls, horror written across it as the truth of the vet’s words sinks in fully. “Holy shit.”

By virtue of simply not wanting to be met with the captain’s ire, he keeps the loud cursing within his own head internal, rather than letting it escape and being fixed under The Look. Even so, he’s half a second from slipping and repeating the sailor’s words in far more colorful language.

“Time...” Wind’s eyes are growing somehow wider, as though they weren’t just a bit too big to begin with, “....oh crap.”

It’s Twilight that makes the connection first, he thinks. He knows his story is forgotten to the world he’d returned to, the one the rancher is a product of, but if there’s one thing his pup is, it’s clever. Picking up on the clues in the exchange as well as what Legend’s said up to now, he can see for himself as realization dawns in midnight blue eyes and Twilight’s face falls. “Sweet Ordonia.”

“What?” Legend asks, glancing about between them, just the same as the others, save Hyrule who looks like he’s rethinking some matter of his own, no doubt what little history has been passed to him now bears reviewing. That doesn’t matter to the rest of them however, because those who know are now gaping, those who don’t are demanding answers, and the captain, who’d met two of the sages for himself and heard their tales, is shaking his head with a sigh.

Time did not sign up for this. Learning that’s he’d split time is one thing, but knowing that somehow, in some way, he’d done so to the extent that not only are his fears about creating multiple timelines actually a reality, but apparently there’s one that spun so far off that not only had he failed, but he’d died at Ganon’s hand and left the burden of defeating the demon to someone else. Two timelines, each resulting in a child being called to do a man’s work, just the same as he had. How old was Legend? Was he the same age as both he and Wind had been? Older? Does he resent the man who left him behind as some people in the sailor’s time do? Like Wind, does he respect his predecessor? Despise him? Curse him? Praise him? His thoughts are spinning and despite not using it, his right eye throbs.

As though sensing his distress, the deity awakens.

It doesn’t happen often. Without the mask, it isn’t nearly as powerful as to accomplish what they can with the aid of the power of the thing. Since abusing its power as a youth though, their magics are enough interlocked, souls enough intertwined, that even removing the cursed thing does not fully displace the deity’s presence from his mind. It is a silent thing at most times, but much like the mask it is sourced from, it awakens when he is in greatest need or fear, and more than once he’s allowed the modicum of its power that now lies bound to his own soul to overtake him in order to escape one situation or another. Such power does not present itself now, but the rumbling voice and the accompanying pulsing pain is enough to shift his focus towards quieting both, attention slipping from his boys and inward to the deity.

Despite managing to gather himself and the boys, to start forwards again on the path, he does not manage to silence the deity. He does, however, manage to ignore it for the time being.

He can only ignore it for so long though.

Sitting on watch after the boys have all gone to sleep, the rumbling thunder of the deity becomes impossible to ignore in the stifling silence around him. The deity will not be silenced, and try as he might, he can’t block-out nor forget the words spoken within his own mind.

“Failure follows in your legacy.”

As though he doesn’t know. It’s been bothering him all day, and despite the rest who hadn't pieced it together asking, he couldn’t bring himself to look, to say anything it was hard enough just putting one foot in front of the other. Wind revealing the split in time had shaken him, but at least he’d known how such a timeline came to be. The vet comes from a world where he’d died. How many of the other boys come from a world, an era, split off from time by his actions? How many timelines did he create?

How many of them have such dark fates as that of Legend’s own?

“He is an heir to failure,” the deity growls, “a scion of death.”

Time shakes his head, voice soft so as to not wake his slumbering team-mates. “No. He’s a hero.”

“To a world that ought not be, that ought to have perished.”

No world ought to perish, especially not because of the actions of one person. Still as he watches the vet sleep, curled up tight around his sword, the voice of the deity continues to ring about in his head. Turning his eyes away to the others doesn’t help though. The deity is truly set off and harsh whispers and growls sound, wondering, just as he does, how many of their number are born of his mistakes, his actions, in a world separate from his own because of actions he hadn’t realized the truth depth of.

He’d turned back time so many times, in both his first and second adventures. Are there timelines born of each time? What of his time in Termina? How many timelines did he create there? How many had seen the moon fall and everyone perish?

Time groans, running a hand over his face, rubbing at the scars and markings left by the deity’s power. Warriors would be so disappointed if he started scratching again, and the scars on either side of his face have finally faded enough to not be as noticeable as when he was a child. There's no mask to tear off, even if the sensation of one lingers as the deity speaks. He doesn’t want to wake up to the captain’s worried stare in the morning at the sight of scars made fresh again. He doesn’t.

Still, he wishes the deity would stop talking.

It doesn’t though, because of course it doesn’t. It hisses in his dreams, whispering as he watches worlds fall and two little figures, he thinks are meant to be Wind and Legend running about, facing the monster he remembers, as well as dark, shapeless figures he doesn’t. They look so small, so young, and despite his heart crying one thing, the deity hisses another. Where he mourns their innocence, the demon screams for their end.

Come morning, he’s a wreck. He manages to go through the motions, washing up with the rest with water from a well on the roadside, shaving and running a hand through his hair enough that it’s not a total mess. The captain was always strict about hygiene and basic care of their appearances. They’re Hyrule’s finest, not to seen wandering around like vagabonds and scamps. Still, the motions feel hollow, like a puppet moving at the command of another, and it feels like a chore to get ready, to strap on his armor, to gird his sword, and to step out onto the path with the others.

Wind and Legend return to walking the fences, apparently determined to do so until the railings give way to open country again. Usually, he’d find that endearing, a proof that despite everything his boys have faced, there still remains a childlike whimsical side to them. Now though, it means that every time one slips or Wind fumbles and yelps, he can’t help but look up and the deity’s words start up all over again.

Failures.

Never intended to exist.

Ought never have come to be.

Proof of the cruelty of the goddesses.

It’s painful. They're good kids, bright young men and skillful, admirable, talented, smart, sharp, kind, and he hates that such dark thoughts invade his mind at the mere sight of them, at even the smallest sound of their voices. It's not their fault that they exist, nor their fault that their worlds are a product of his actions and his mistakes. They don’t deserve the deity’s ire for simply existing.

Yet the roaring of that horrible voice in his mind continues, pulsing through his head and aching at the eye that the demon controls.

He wishes it would stop. Why won’t it stop?

“Time, hey, Time!” He comes back to himself with a blink, head shaking slightly as he raises his good eye to find the captain staring at him. They’re still on the path, still just walking along, still with nothing and no one else in sight, although the rail fence is nowhere to be seen anymore and blessedly means that the two younger heroes are back on the path with the rest, back in their normal places behind him, out of sight and away from the ire of the deity.

“Yes?”

The captain’s face is creased with worry, lips pursed, and gaze guarded. “You blanked out.”

Not blacked out, not fainted, not lost consciousness. No, it’s something rather different, and based off the familiar expression of the other, the soldier is well aware of what it really was; a slip. When stress or pain or emotion are too much, it happens. It’s been less common since he’d put away the mask for the last time, but during the war it happened frequently from overuse of the thing, the deity exercising control in the absence of his own will to.

“I’m alright,” he tries to assure, careful not to look behind him, even though he can feel the worry from the rest, “just tired.”

“We can stop for a rest.”

The captain’s halfway towards turning towards the other, already drawing a breath to call a halt to the rest, but Time stops him with a hand to his arm and a shake of the head, eyes carefully closed to avoid the sight of bright blue or crimson. “Don’t. It won’t help.”

Sleeping isn’t the problem, it’s his mind running away with him in a thousand directions, he doesn’t want it too. Sitting still will only make it worse. Stil, the captain regards him with worry. “Tell me if you change your mind.”

He nods. He won’t, but if he did, he’d tell the other There’s no worry of that though because sitting still right now sounds like actual torture. Just sitting there, a prisoner to his thoughts, to the deity’s thoughts, to wonderings and fears he doesn’t wish to address now or ever; he wouldn’t wish such things on anyone.

Except maybe Ganon. Screw him and everything he’s done to them. He deserves to be tortured by guilt.

Warriors lets it go, but not without a final worried look, and every so often he can feel heavy blue eyes settling on him, reading him, watching for any tick or sign that e’s in need of a break. He appreciates it, and focusing on the captain’s worry is an escape, because the deity has nothing ill to say of the soldier, in fact, he thinks it might even respect the other man, not that it will ever admit to such a thing.

In some ways, it gets easier, but in others, it’s worse. Focusing on his pup, his cub, turns his attention away. He can laugh and tease and watch them tease each other. Having Warriors standing beside him, talking about this thing or that, about paths and courses of action, is almost soothing. Sky’s smile and warm laughter is a balm, and Four’s quiet presence an assurance.

The moment Legend or Wind come into view though, even if his focus isn’t on them, or even what they’re doing, the growl of the deity rises again, a splitting pain in his head.

They know too. Wind’s hurt expressions and confusion are clear, and while Legend doesn’t appear to care at first, after a few days of such treatment, the vet tries to pull him aside and demand what has him treating Wind like a plague. He's not even noticed that the treatment is extended to him, but they all know of the vet’s soft spot for the sailor. He won’t stand to see their leader, whom the kid respects and admires so much, treating the sight of the boy like it’s painful.

But it is. It’s a rush of thoughts and twitch of his hands. It’s the hiss of the deity demanding he purge his namesake of all the dark twists it’s taken due to his actions. It’s images of children fighting demons and worlds falling due to his own failures.

He can’t bring himself to apologize, because that would mean looking at them, speaking to them, and thus hearing the demon scream for their blood to right the wrongs they represent.

Legend gives up in anger. Wind closes off, quiet and pensive. He doesn’t miss the veteran’s hand on broad little shoulders, a silent comfort when he passes by. Doesn’t miss the soft questions whispered from younger to elder, or the harsh glares from violet eyes as begrudging tones reply that they have no answers. He hates it but can’t do anything about it. For their own sakes, ignoring them is kinder than risking letting himself slip and do far worse.

When next they face the shadow, it’s nearly a relief. Finally, he can pour the aggression of the deity into his motions, into the swing of his sword and the roaring of his magic. He can let the demon loose, just a little, just enough to destroy and wreak havoc on enemies that deserve his wrath, on creatures who’ve earned his ire and hatred.

It’s freeing.

There’s no need to hold back, and maybe, just maybe, he let’s himself slip into the background, lets the deity have just a little more power than he’d planned. It’s fine though, it’s fine because maybe this will exhaust the thing, grant it the blood it’s so thirsty for, quench that hunger enough to make it fall silent again.

Once the battle is over, and the deity silent, maybe now he can talk to Wind. Show the boy a smile and apologize, tell him he’s had a migraine that’s impacted by the sailor’s magic or some such thing. Legend or Hyrule might call bull on that, but maybe he’s willing to abuse the fact that Wind’s hero worship of him means he’s more likely to be believed. He’s not telling the kid the truth though, not burdening him with the weight of the horrible thoughts and impulses that wreck his mind, but he’ll give an answer that’s half true, give him something, maybe even sit down and talk about nonsense together to assure that he doesn’t hate the kid. He doesn’t. Wind’s a good kid, and he deserves the world.

He just needs the deity to wear itself out. So, he drops his guard, lets himself fall to the backseat and lets the demon take the reins, sweep over the field with full fury and power unleashed, hoping to exhaust his magic enough that the demon will be silent. Enemies fall like wheat to a scythe, a cloud of black and purple smoke rising in his wake as the deity rampages, blade moving uncommonly fast as he darts to the captain’s side to assist him for a moment, springs over to Twilight to aid him as well.

The deity’s voice rumbles, laughing, savoring the bloodshed and reveling just as much in fighting beside their “true heir”, beside the “dragon of war”. He doesn’t understand that, not entirely. Still, he can guess what it means, and while a dragon does seem to suit the man he’s watched wield flames with the same proficiency as a blade, calling Twilight their “true heir” seems like a direct jab, like spitting in the face of the two other heroes that follow in his wake. They’re just words though. Just more words from the demon god’s mind. They don’t matter. They’re not his thoughts.

Except that when the enemy is dead, when the shadow fled, when the battle over, those words still play in his head, an echo of the deity’s thoughts, and when he tries to take back control, he can’t.

He can’t control his own actions, can’t control even his words, can’t do anything no matter how much he desperately tries to retake control of the body that’s stalking towards where their veteran is wiping his sword off in the grass, can’t do anything as he hears the deity’s thoughts echo around him, watching as his body becomes but a puppet to the still raging demon.

“If Nayru will not prune back the dead branches, it falls to me.”

He wants to scream, to say anything, to catch his own hand as it raises, blade lifted high, but he can’t do anything.

Legend turns at the last second, eyes sharp and blade sharper as it lifts, catches the weapon descending towards him, pushes it and the strength of the deity away and slips himself back, flips over them and perfectly executes a helm-splitter, stopping seconds before their leader’s skull is cleaved in two, voice sharp as it demands to know what’s wrong with him, what he’s doing.

The deity doesn’t care, simply springs back and away, Time’s body swinging his sword at the younger hero even as Warriors shouts something unintelligible and Twilight snarls something sharp, something terrified as their “true heir” rushes towards the scion of death, the heir to failure.

The others aren’t fast enough to stop the deity though, aren’t strong enough to stop the blade clashing, lifting and falling and lifting and falling. He can see, although he can’t do anything else, as the force of the blows rattles up the veteran’s arms. Sees the way his teeth set and his body shakes as he responds, holding the deity puppeteering Time’s body off, but only by backing away, driven slowly further and further from the others who rush and hurry.

Twilight throws himself at them, but the deity catches him by the pelt. All ire fades in favor of fondness as the demon’s thoughts turn sorrowful. He can hear them, a sadness that their true heir will have to see this, a confusion of why the pup does not understand their intent. He knows, if Twilight understood, that he would never condone the actions of the demon, but he can’t say as much even to his own mind as the deity lifts and throws their boy out of reach. Not harsh, not meant to harm, but fully intending to distance the boy from their fight, to stop him interfering.

He flinches, as does his body, as the rancher hits the ground some yards away.

In the opening left by the action, Legend’s tempered sword strikes, blood gushing as the blade rips free of flesh, but the blow does nothing to stop the assault of the demon In fact, it only provokes him further, and the little control Time felt finally fall into his hands is ripped away as his body returns control to the thing that will protect it, to the demon that will not let them be harmed.

Legend is the next to go flying, but not with the care and sorrow granted to Twilight, and instead with blood dripping in his wake as the biggoron sword finally lands a blow.

The shouts of the other boys sound, and there’s the snarling of a wolf beside them.

When his body turns from the broken form of the felled vet, he’s met with the sight of drawn swords and bared teeth as the wolf launches at him. He’s not sure when or why Twi has shifted, but the teeth closing on his arm hold him back for a moment as Warriors throws him forwards as well, attempting, no doubt to seek some weakness. In the war, he’d learned to rip the masks free from his kid’s face when he must, but there’s no mask for the captain to tear away this time, and despite the affection of the deity for “the dragon of war”, the demon god still tosses the captain away, plunging through the hesitant and terrified heroes.

Time’s heart drops when he realizes the goal of the demon: the sailor, eyes hard and blade raised, even as terror and confusion have the kid’s body shaking, voice doing the same as it demands ‘why’. “Time, what’s gotten into you?”

The cry of his heart at the veteran’s fall echoes again as the blow of the deity comes down on the sailor, and while the boy dodges, he’s not fast enough to escape injury.

Blood paints the earth, paints blue fabric and darkens crimson. Pain clouds in violet eye sand in the ocean ones of their youngest.

A roar, like nothing the deity can manage, has him turning.

The last things Time sees are Sky’s blazing eyes and the matching gleam of the Master Sword.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu time #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #ketto writes #lu wind #lu legend #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu sky #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu four #fierce deity #dark fierce deity

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neomujinjja · 3 months

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Don't wanna think (So stupid in love with you)

Pairing: Seunghan x reader

Genre: fluff

Synopsis: I know it's a bit too soon for vows, paper rings are good for now. But know, I'm already down the aisle 'cause I'm so stupid in love. What'd you think about sharing our last name?

Warnings: none

Note: doesnt hani just seem like the type to do something like this.

── ⋆⋅ಇ ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ಇ ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ಇ⋅⋆ ──

"Hey, you go ahead" your boyfriend told you, turning to you with a sparkle in his eye. Something must have caught the male's attention. You nodded, albeit confused and curious but you'd let Seunghan be. The two of you shared a kiss before separating with a promise to meet at a planned spot.

You sat at the bench, happy with your finds today. You had managed to find the jacket you were looking for and a few books to check out with Seunghan. Kicking your feet, you spent some time on your phone as you waited for said male to show up. But as 30 minutes passed with no sign of him, you become slightly worried. It was unlike Seunghan to not inform you of his whereabouts. Looking at the chatroom, your worry grew as your text status still showed delivered. You clicked on your boyfriend's contact, anxiously waiting for the line to connect.

"Hi, N/N". You breathed out a sigh of relief. Now that you knew he was okay, you could express your annoyance.

"Hani, what have you been doing? I texted you" you told the male as you crossed your arm.

"I'm sorry N/N, I didn't plan on taking this long" he explained and you soften at the tone of his voice. "I'm on my way, okay.? I'll be there soon N/N" Seunghan continued, sending kisses to you through the phone. You shook your head as you chuckled at his actions. The male always knew how to lift your mood.

"Alright, Hani. Love you."

"Love you too"

"N/N, did you wait long?" Seunghan asks as he pet your head. You didn't say anything instead smiling up at your boyfriend.

"Did you get what you were looking for?" You asked him as he helped you up from the bench. Seunghan smiled brightly while humming in the positive. "Are you going to tell me what it is?" You continue, playfully bumping into him. He only laughs but he doesn't say anything. You can tell that Seunghan was buzzing with excitement, making your smile grow as you watched him.

"Close your eyes" the male asked once the two of you got into the car.

"What?"

"Close your eyes, please."

Following his words, your curiosity piqued as you heard him rustle around. You felt Seunghan grab your hand before slipping something onto your finger with a kiss. "You can open your eyes now" he told you, and you giggle at the happiness slipping through his voice. Opening your eyes, you came face to face with a smiling Seunghan. You looked down at your hand to see a plastic ring on your finger.

"What's this, Hani?"

Seunghan hums, tilting his head to the side. "A couple ring" he responds as he shows his own hand. You coo at your boyfriend then lean over the console to peck his lips.

── ⋆⋅ಇ ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ಇ ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ಇ⋅⋆ ──

Bonus:

"Aw, Hani. Is this what you went looking for?" you ask him after pulling away from him. Seunghan hesitates before nodding and chuckling.

"Yeah..I saw a Gacha machine and had to get some for us" he tells you while looking down at your new couple rings.

"I love them..and I love you."

This time Seunghan leans over to kiss you. The two of you pull away, smiles beaming on your faces.

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

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Lt. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw As A Father (Pt. I)

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: I seriously cannot get enough of this man at the moment. I’m already planning a Part II for this one because Rooster and babies? Need I say more?

Warnings: Pregnancy/morning sickness/childbirth and, as usual, enough fluff to make your teeth melt.

- You and Bradley have always known that you wanted to have a family together. From the start of your relationship, you were very open about your desire to have children. Bradley, too, always wanted to be a father. He missed his parents terribly and longed for a family to call his own.

- The two of you had been actively trying for a baby since your wedding, but it wasn’t until almost a year into your marriage that you finally saw that little positive sign on your pregnancy test. You cried many tears of joy that day.

- Rooster was at work when you found out, so you spent the day trying to think of a good way to tell him.

- It was a few weeks before Christmas and the two of you had been planning to watch It’s A Wonderful Life that night, since it’s one of your favorite movies. An idea came to you then. You just hoped you’d be able to keep the secret until the time came to reveal the good news.

- Your heart was racing as you and Rooster sat snuggled up on the couch later that evening, sharing a bowl of popcorn. You knew the movie by heart, and you knew the exact moment when you wanted to reveal what you had discovered that day. You couldn’t help but glance up at your husband out of the corner of your eye at the start of the scene when Mary reveals to George that she’s pregnant with their first child.

- “I want my baby to look like you,” Mary tells George, beaming up at her beloved husband. You could understand the feeling.

- “You know,” you said at that moment, popping a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth in an attempt to mask your jittery nerves. “I have to agree with Mary on that one.”

- “What do you mean?” Rooster asked, brushing some of your hair behind your ear and looking down at you curiously.

- “I want my baby to look like you, too,” you told him, your eyes meeting his as you leaned back against his chest.

- “Your…your b-baby?” Rooster stuttered, his eyes widening in shock. You almost laughed at how adorably dumbfounded he looked. “Honey, does that mean you’re…?”

- “I’m pregnant,” you nodded, tears suddenly springing to your eyes, which you weren’t expecting in that moment.

- Rooster was quiet for a moment before letting out a loud whoop of joy, wrapping his arms around you tightly and lifting you up off the couch, swinging you around. “Best early Christmas present ever,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you tenderly.

- If you thought Rooster was an attentive husband before, he’s a hundred times more so during your pregnancy. That man would literally do anything for you.

- Need a back rub or a foot massage? He’s got you.

- Feeling a craving for ice cream at midnight? He’s driving to find an open store.

- Struggling with hormonal mood swings? He holds you when you cry and listens without judgment when you’re flying off the handle.

- You have terrible bouts of morning sickness in the first trimester. Rooster is always there to rub your back and carry you back to bed afterwards. Whenever he has to leave early for work, he makes sure to leave a pack of Saltine crackers on the nightstand, along with a note reminding you how much he loves you.

- He comes with you to all your doctor’s appointments, and he gets really emotional the first time he sees the baby on the ultrasound.

- Rooster loves getting to feel the baby kick. At night, when the two of you are lying in bed, he’ll often rest his head on your belly and talk to the baby.

- “Your mommy is the most beautiful woman in the whole world. I just want you to know that, Baby B,” he frequently says, using his favorite nickname for your child.

- Sometimes, he sings for the baby, too. It always makes you smile.

- “You know, the baby kicks the hardest whenever you sing ‘Great Balls of Fire,’” you laugh, imagining the baby dancing in your womb.

- You both decide that you want to be surprised and opt not to find out the baby’s sex.

- Phoenix, Bob, Hangman, Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote take bets on what you’re going to have. Phoenix, Payback, and Coyote put their money on a girl. Bob, Hangman, and Fanboy think it’s going to be a boy.

- Rooster makes sure your hospital bag is packed weeks before your due date and has the route to the hospital planned to a T.

- When your water breaks in the middle of the night, Rooster is able to remain calm due to all his careful planning, despite the fact that he’s absolutely freaking out on the inside.

- He’s by your side through all twelve hours of labor and delivery, feeding you ice chips, wiping your forehead with a cool cloth, telling you over and over again what an amazing job you’re doing and how proud he is of you.

- “You got this, baby girl. You can do this. You’re so strong,” he whispers in your ear as you scream your way through another contraction. “Come on, honey. One more big push,” he tells you, squeezing your hand and supporting your back as you bear down one final time.

- Your baby comes into the world moments later, howling loudly and squirming vigorously.

- “It’s a boy!” your doctor announces, holding the baby up with a smile. The look of pride and awe on Bradley’s face melts your heart.

- You name him Nicholas Peter Bradshaw, in honor of his late grandfather and the man who will be like a grandfather to him.

- (Hangman gloats smugly when he collects his share of the bet money from Phoenix, Payback, and Coyote.)

- You truly didn’t think you could love your husband more, but watching him become a father makes you fall in love with him in a whole new way.

- Rooster adapts to fatherhood naturally. He loves holding Nick and talking to him about everything, walking him around your apartment and explaining to him what everything is. He’s willing to change diapers just as much as you are, and he often insists that you go back to sleep when your son wakes up in the middle of the night, promising that he’ll handle it.

- One time, while you were in the kitchen cooking dinner, Rooster fell asleep on the couch with Nick sleeping on his chest. When you walked into the living room and took in the sight, you thought your heart would explode with love. You managed to snap approximately 75 pictures of them on your cell phone, which you made your phone wallpaper for months.

- Even though he’s just a baby, Rooster starts teaching Nick everything he knows about aviation. He buys him toy airplanes and, as soon as he’s a few months old, starts taking him on trips to the naval base so that he can see the jets up close. Nick’s eyes alway light up and he gurgles happily, reaching for the jets eagerly.

- “He’s a natural. Gonna join the family business,” Rooster always tells you. The pride on his face and in his voice when he says that pierces your heart in the best way.

- Neither of you intentionally make the decision to start calling your son Goose. It just happens.

- You and Rooster were sitting on either side of your son’s high chair one day, trying to coax him into saying his first word. He’d come close several times at that point, but had never quite managed it.

- “Say Mama, Nicholas. Or Dada. Come on, my sweet boy,” you begged him in a sing-song voice, squeezing his hand.

- “Come on, buddy,” Rooster added, ruffling your son’s feather-soft hair. “Talk to me, Goose.” It just slipped out. Both of you had frozen at that, the emotions that came with that statement playing out on both your faces.

- “Dada!” Nicholas had suddenly exclaimed, laughing happily at your shocked expressions.

- Your son was Goose from that day forward.

- Not long after Goose’s first birthday, Rooster held you close in bed and whispered in your ear, “Let’s make another baby.”

- You smiled at that, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was not only an amazing husband, but also an incredible father. You couldn’t wait to grow your family with him. “That sounds like an excellent idea, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you told him.

- “Mm, I’m glad we’re on the same page, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he grinned, kissing your neck as you and he got to work on expanding your family that very night.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #miles teller #top gun: maverick

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randomwriteronline · 9 months

Text

Not in a million years would Melli have meant to slip it out like that, so naturally, so nonchalantly. He would rather have kept it to himself for the rest of eternity, or if he'd ever changed his mind he would have liked it to have the appropriate amount of flare and stone cold stalwartness as it deserved - though anything that wouldn't have been a broken whisper would have done.

But instead, because Ingo had held out a hand to catch his own as he helped him down a steeper step down the mountainside, and the gesture had been kind despite the fact they were arguing, he simply conceded with a frown: "At least you know how to treat a lady."

Then he bit his tongue; but the damage was already done.

Ingo looked at him, stone faced as always if with a glint of surprise in his eyes.

"Ah," he noted simply, with a slight apprehension: "Pardon me, I am worried my memory might have once again failed me. Have you shared this information with me beforehand?"

Melli shook his head.

"I see! That's a relief. I feared you might have mentioned that already and unbeknownst to myself I had kept on employing wrong terms when speaking of you."

The words made the Diamond's danger sense perk up, and he hastily asked: "What wrong terms?"

"Mister, sir, man, he, him, and the such," Ingo helpfully replied.

Oh.

General terms.

Still, Melli gave him a deep, haughty frown: "I never said I wasn't ‘him’," he hissed, "For your information."

"I understand! I do agree I should have asked instead of assumed. Thank you for correcting me," the other responded without even a flinch, or a gawk, or a doubtful grimace, or a shake his head in disbelief, or a few hasty blinks as he had to do a double take just to make sure he had heard him correctly.

His tranquility somehow only worsened the antsy mood Electrode's warden found himself trapped in. He lifted his chin high with as scornful a look as he could muster: "I wasn't planning on telling you either way," he scoffed: "But since you tricked me into doing so I better hope you won't have the bright idea of sharing that with any of your folk, or I'll have my Lord zap the breath out of your lungs!"

"I had no intention of pushing you to reveal such a vulnerable part of yourself," Ingo replied apologetically, "But do not fret: I shall endeavor to protect your privacy and keep it to myself."

Melli's solemn nod branded his response with a seal of approval.

Of course, Sneasler’s warden had to ruin that by adding: “Much like I would like you to endeavor not to undo my hard work and keep yourself from snuffing out my torches.”

The tentative calm was shattered in an instant as the woman angrily replied: “Well! Maybe I wouldn’t bother you so much if you just stopped doing that! The Pokémon don’t like the light, I’ve told you!”

“Yes, and you are perfectly right in saying so, Miss Melli!” (and in a moment the animosity was once again blown up with a loud poof!, leaving the lilac haired head to be gently swarmed with a pleasant shapeless feeling very similar to euphoric joy) “But while the species residing in such an environment have long developed methods to orient themselves in the dark, humans can only count on their sight to do so, which is greatly impeded by the lack of any light source. I understand the sudden change might be jarring for the Pokémon themselves, but in the long run it might be safer for them as well as ourselves if passing commuters do not stumble directly into their jaws because they could not see them.”

The side effect of having a mind unclouded by petty hatred was that this time Melli actually did listen to whatever was being said to him instead of automatically deciding against it.

That strange positive feeling still had him ensnared in its gentle grip, causing him to twirl the tips of his silky hair as a kinder mood had him twist his mouth and admit: “That’s… A fair point. But then how would you suppose to fix that, hm?”

“Through a collaboration, perhaps.” Ingo offered: “I unfortunately lack the additional years of experience on the territory that you have, since you’ve been a warden longer than I have. If you would agree to work with me, I’m certain we would have little trouble devising effective routes through the various caves in the Highlands that would both guide commuters safely out of them and make sure the wellbeing and comfort of resident Pokémon is maintained.”

“An acceptable proposal,” Melli nodded, his good mood slowly passing but still unclouding his pompous mind enough to actually hear the man out.

“I’m glad you think so! Perhaps we could start right away, tomorrow morning.”

“Not a chance,” the woman quickly stopped him: “I need to leave the Highlands for a couple of days. You people Pearls love your space, I get it, but I cannot be in two places at once, now can I? And don’t you even try putting up torches while I’m gone! I’ll take it all back!”

Ingo hummed thoughtfully: “By when would you plan to be back, Miss?”

A smile lit the other warden’s face right up: “In two days,” he replied much more amiably, giddy once again, “I’ll be here by midday.”

“Then I suppose your request to keep the caves unlit is reasonable, though it pains me to leave them lacking proper lighting,” the man nodded. “If your return had been delayed for even just a day longer, I fear I would have had to disobey your orders to ensure the safety of potential passengers. I shall simply accompany them through instead.”

“Hm! I guess it would have been fair,” Melli conceded.

It took maybe less than a moment to properly realize he had just agreed with the other, but even despite the minuscule amount of time that had passed the damage had been done; so he stiffened slightly again, shook his head, held his chin high so he wouldn’t have to look at Ingo’s shit-eating grin (or at least at what he was certain was a shit-eating grin, which it wasn’t, because Ingo was not a man who made such faces due to his struggling expressivity, plus he was honestly just glad they had gotten an agreement) and huffed.

“I better go!” he announced. “Lord Electrode needs me before I leave. Don’t slow me down.”

“I would hate to do so,” Sneasler’s warden reassured him, and kindly tipped his hat: “Have a safe trip, Miss Melli.”

He could not see Melli’s face as he left, since he turned away very quickly and marched off as fast as he could; but if he had, he would have seen the biggest smile on the woman’s face, and he probably would have even heard the joyful thundering beat of his heart as it hammered away in his chest with pure mirth.

“I’m a miss,” Melli gloated.

Adaman raised an eyebrow at him: “Hm?”

“I’m a miss, now,” his sister repeated. The hand on his chest was full of pride. “Ingo’s called me ‘Miss Melli’.”

“Ingo knows?”

“I didn’t mean to tell him, but I did, and it’s fine either way because he’s been very nice about it. He calls me ‘Miss Melli’, now.”

The leader hummed, smiling slightly: “That’s Galarian, isn’t it?”

Melli nodded.

“And how do you know it’s not an insult?”

At that the warden turned sharply to shoot a venomous glare straight at him: “It’s not!”

“Oh? You know Galarian?”

“I know it’s not an insult! Ingo wouldn’t do that! He’s too nice!”

“And how are you sure? Have you been…” and at that Adaman grinned mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows: “Fraternizing with him?”

Seeing his sister’s face turn beet red was absolutely priceless. He laughed at his fuming anger, shielding his face with an arm when he seemed about to be getting a whole faceful of kindling wood thrown at himself.

“I am not fraternizing!” Melli hissed: “He’s just around all the time!”

“Stop playing!” Mai yelled at them before going back to preparing the pyre for the evening.

Her younger sister whined back at her: “He’s being mean to me!”

It was, however, Iscan who came to his aid - as he always did, of course.

Their cousin’s unmistakable wavy hairline peeked out from beneath a discrete amount of fish he was gutting exceptionally quickly: “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” Adaman cackled, “Melli’s just been fraternizing with the weird old man Ingo.”

“I’m not!” Melli shrieked: “He’s just being nice! Unlike you!”

“Calm down now,” Iscan soothed him, “What happened exactly?”

The Highland warden sighed: “My tongue slipped because of his good manners.”

“His good manners?” his brother echoed.

Iscan masterfully redirected the attention back on himself before another squabble could begin: “Oh? You told him?”

“Yes! And now he calls me ‘Miss Melli’,” and he smiled brilliantly for a moment, face lighting up with genuine euphoria, before side-eyeing his grinning brother with piqued disdain as he clarified: “Because he’s being nice, and not because I’m fraternizing with him.”

His cousin smiled at that: “Ah, that’s good to know. He did strike me as a kind fellow.”

“I still think it’s an insult,” Adaman commented.

He ducked to evade a branch smacking his nose right off.

Fed up with his cackling, Melli stormed off stomping his feet to help Mai and Arezu instead, mumbling angrily about how he should have gone with them to begin with, since ladies don’t usually make fools out of fellow ladies - which was wholly untrue, especially in the case of Arezu who had that annoying habit of gossiping about everything and everyone at their expense, but it is worth pointing out that neither of the other female wardens made fun of him as much and as obnoxiously as their leader currently was.

Even Iscan gave him a gently disapproving look as he went right back to deboning Barboach.

His leader raised his shoulders as he still chuckled: “What!” he laughed, “You never know! Maybe he’s calling him a tramp behind his back.”

“Come on now, let him have this,” the warden replied: “You’ve met the man before, right?”

“Yes, yes, I know that warden’s not one to do something as mean as that. Melli’s just too much fun to watch him when he’s angry like that.”

“I bet he thinks the same of you.”

At that, Adaman groaned: “Oh, I know he does. He’s been doing that for years now. I bet he thinks it’s hilarious.”

“And do you want to stoop to that level and bicker like kids until the end of time?”

A huff: “No…”

“Then let that poor girl keep his bubble of happiness just this once,” Iscan concluded, satisfied, and threw away the bones in a neat pile by himself.

The younger man also momentarily dropped the conversation, going back to work to bring the kindling over to the growing bonfire that would have been lit up that night in celebration of the first half of the year passing. He returned after a short while, however, hands empty and steps as quiet as a Leafeon’s, to sit by his cousin again with a conspiratorial air and a smirk that promised nothing good.

He put his hand to the man’s ear and whispered: “I still think they have something going on.”

Iscan sighed and laughed a little bit: “How about you leave the gossiping to Arezu and help me get dinner ready instead?”

Adaman groaned again.

Much to his cousin’s satisfaction, he picked up a Barboach, a knife, and got to work.

Working with Ingo, as it turned out, was actually really easy.

He was very receptive to instructions as well as intuitive when it came to finding fallacies and offering solutions, and while he had his own discrete amount of expertise on caves he was also quite happy to listen to Melli’s inputs and follow them if he judged them better than his own ideas.

It was almost as though the Diamond warden could have benefitted from this pleasant cooperation from the start if he had just pulled his pretty head out of his own ass!

He squashed that thought under his boot, of course.

Especially because, after the first few caves, the woman had noticed something that had started worsening his mood.

Ingo was as polite as ever, helping him down steeper ledges, calling him ‘Miss’, thanking him and all; but he kept avoiding ever meeting Melli’s eyes like the plague, and never dared to look at him for too long. As soon as he wasn’t concentrating on the task at hand he would fix his gaze somewhere else entirely, more often than not turning his whole head away even while talking directly to him, sometimes with a low, almost hesitant voice.

The woman’s mind churned around these details, turning them around angrily in his skull as his thoughts worsened, and his mood together with them. A shadow was cast over his fair face as he brooded in silence, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.

It did not help that he felt worse than if it had been anybody else.

Oh, it hurt when somebody treated him like this once they found out, of course it did, and in a way he had always expected one of those blasted Pearls to see him as lesser for it, and had prepared himself so that he could drown their disgust in his roaring assertion of his own exceptionality and myriad of incredible qualities; but when it came to his fellow hermit he could not help but feel like no amount of screaming in a mirror that he was worth just as much as all his sisters and brothers and cousins and clansmen would have soothed the disheartening feeling agitating his chest.

As mentioned, the other warden was very receptive when he wanted to be; so as they both placed the last torch in the path they had both devised, his white eyes turned upwards, towards the scowl darkening in vitriol of his companion, and carefully asked with earnest concern in his voice: “Forgive my indelicacy for asking you so bluntly, Miss, but - may I help with whatever is vexing you?”

His kindness was unfortunately undone as he once again averted Melli’s gaze for a second, and the tall woman snapped at him venomously: “If you were so disgusted by my existence that you couldn’t stomach looking at me, you could have said that earlier!”

Ingo seemed taken aback for a second.

Then he shouted: “AH!” and slapped his face.

He shook his head several times, humming and groaning, playing with his hat as though he was about to smack it on his leg in frustration - a display that confused Melli greatly.

“Forgive me, Miss Melli,” he finally explained guiltily: “I’m afraid my struggle with being visibly expressive has thwarted my relations with others once again. It was not my intention to appear as though I find the sight of you unpleasant – it’s, ah… Forgive me, it is a little embarrassing to bare my thoughts like this. I find it hard to look at you for, well, for the opposite reason, truly.”

“Which would be?”

“I find you to be very beautiful.”

The Diamond stared him down, remaining briefly silent: “I am,” he replied. “You didn’t have any trouble looking at me before.”

“I am very aware of that,” Ingo reassured him, “I did not mean to imply that you were not lovely to behold, that much is very obvious to anybody who is capable of seeing without problems. The matter is simply that, not being attracted to men and mistakenly believing you to be one, I had not been fully exposed to any side effects your looks could have had on me until very recently.”

The harshness in Melli’s expression mellowed slowly, turning his furious frown into a thoughtful neutral look; the tension left his shoulders, his thin hands began playing with the ends of his hair as he reflected on those words. Anger had left him.

In its stead, a slow realization caused a smile to creep onto his face.

He eyed Ingo without a word, fluttering his lashes gently a few times to watch him struggle not to follow his slender finger as he dragged it along his own jaw.

“I see,” he chirped, sweeter than honey: “So it’s because you like me.”

The man looked at him almost in a daze as he slowly processed the words.

His entire face turned completely red in a matter of seconds.

He jerked his head away completely to both pitifully attempt to mask his embarrassment at having his feelings so easily unveiled and avoid deafening the object of his infatuation as he shouted hurriedly: “OH GOODNESS ME WHAT IS THAT MEOWLING SOUND OVER THERE, I DO BELIEVE SNEASLER IS REQUESTING MY PRESENCE POST HASTE I’M AFRAID I MUST ANSWER HER CALL IMMEDIATELY, THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP AND HAVE A GOOD DAY MISS MELLI!”

Then he speeded away, as fast and stiff as a boat with powerful winds in its sail, followed by the beautiful sound of Melli’s unrestrained laughter.

Skuntank hadn’t seen his companion so exuberantly happy in quite a while now.

The woman was still cackling at his admirer’s reaction, recounting over and over his accidental confession and subsequent swift departure as he combed his hair through his fingers – a gesture that betrayed how overwhelmingly pleased he was to have learned what a special opinion of him his fellow warden had.

Ingo might have had him wrapped around his little finger with that ‘Miss’, but Melli had him completely bewitched!

Ah, he could see himself already, Electrode’s warden mused, getting out of an argument by flustering him, convincing him to run some errands for him just by batting his lashes, watching him color red and hide behind his hat at a flirt, teasing him endlessly, making him shake just by offering the slightest glimpse of bare skin!

His trusted partner listened without a care, happy to listen to joyful ramblings instead of whining yet again - though he did quickly notice how the fantasies were slowly veering away from simply taking advantage of the man or delighting themselves with making fun of him… Now where had ideas of sharing food, or baths, or kisses come from? What exactly would his mistress have gained from it in terms of amusement or favors? He wasn’t mentioning any as he spoke of those…

But all Skuntank had to do was take a better look at the woman, and he understood instantly.

Melli stopped laughing just enough to hear the comforting yet thunderous sound of his partner purring knowingly, almost mockingly, with a wide smirk on his already smug muzzle as he laid his chin on one of his large hind legs.

The warden tilted his head: “What’s so funny?” he asked, still cackling.

The Pokémon mewled with a low rumble as if to feign innocence and kneaded a single paw, his right one, in the carpet.

His companion imitated the motion by reflex, tightening his own fingers absentmindedly. Oh? And what was this, now? He’d been playing with something, apparently. He traced the shape and took in the texture while mindlessly running his digits over the mystery object, only vaguely recognizing that he was grazing his own neck as well.

In the end he figured out what Skuntank was trying to bring his attention to: he was just turning the pendant of his necklace around his palm! Such a small thing… Though it had been a while since he’d last done so, hadn’t it?

Yes, he could remember it – the last time he’d played with it like this was when he’d fallen for that annoying boy a few years ago, like a foolish girl, returning all bashful and shy…

He did not make the connection immediately, still so caught up in his own thoughts that he could barely understand the subtext his partner was trying to bring his mind to. But the more he touched the smooth stone, the more he realized the tenderness of the motion was intrinsically linked to his plans regarding Ingo; not only that, but when he tried stopping either the thinking or the caressing he found with growing horrified embarrassment that he could not manage, for in order to cease doing one he would have needed to stop doing the other as well, and the more he thought of stopping the more his mind went right back to the Pearl clansman, to his honesty when he’d confessed himself, his red face, his sweet words, his hands, his eyes, his—

“Oh no,” Melli wheezed at last.

Skuntank gave an intermittent grumble similar to a laugh as his mistress hid his fair face against his knees with a high pitched groan whilst kicking his feet, half mortified, half excited.

Ah, fuck.

It was mutual.

#pokémon #pokemon legends arceus #warden melli #submas ingo #mellingo #highlandsshipping #adaman pokemon #warden iscan #random writing #today i bringeth thee he/him trans gal melli and ingo looking Extremely Respectfully #the pacing sucks but oh well <3 i might not be able to write in the coming months so. have at thee

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