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littleredwolf · 21 days

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Hungry Eyes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: The team overhears Nat and Y/N's 'girl talk' through the comms and feelings surface as a result.

Warnings: Suggestive content. Sex references.

Words: 956

A/N: I don't know what this is or where it came from, but if this goes down well I may write up something a little spicy for a part 2 *eyebrow wiggle* PART 2 CAN BE FOUND HERE

“Bucky's done nothing but undress you with his eyes since you walked in,” Natasha's husky voice came over your earpiece and your eyes snapped to the super soldier on the other side of the room, your cheeks reddening to find him already staring in your direction.

You let your gaze casually pass over him, playing the brief moment of eye contact off as a coincidence as you scanned the room for the mission, but your heart was pounding and you were sure he could probably hear it.

“Doubtful,” you scoffed, though you couldn't ignore the tingle that travelled up your spine at the thought of Bucky finding you attractive. You'd had the hots for him for months, but your fear of rejection strongly outweighed your desire to tell him so you'd kept your little secret to yourself…and Nat of course.

“Stop living in denial, anybody with half a brain can see how he practically drools over you every time he sees you,” Nat argued, and you rolled your eyes as you continued to survey the room. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s true.”

“Stop watching me, you know it creeps me out when I can’t see you,” you hissed, eyes roaming the crowd in an attempt to spot the redhead.

“If you could see me, I wouldn’t be very good at my job,” she teased, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes again.

“Just hurry up and do your job, Romanoff - the quicker we finish and I can get out of this dress the better,” you stated, readjusting the silky garment that Natasha herself had picked out for you. It suited your cover well, but it was a little provocative for your usual tastes.

“I’m sure Barnes would agree with you on that one…”

“As much as I’m enjoying watching Bucky squirm from this conversation, head’s up that this is an open channel,” Sam’s voice cutting in over the comms caused any reply you had prepared for Natasha to die on your tongue, the blood draining from your face as you turned to look at Bucky.

The super soldier was no longer on his mark, but as you searched the crowd you caught a glimpse of him as he was making a swift exit. More than anything you wanted to follow him, to defuse the awkwardness and recover from the embarrassment of him overhearing Nat’s comments, but you stayed rooted to the spot, unable to leave your position.

“Go,” Nat urged, as though sensing your inner turmoil. “Me and Sam have got this.”

A quick look towards Sam confirmed that he agreed, and you wasted no time in hurrying towards the same door Bucky had gone through moments ago.

Surprisingly, he hadn’t gone very far, and you found him leaning against the wall in the foyer. Heat rushed to your cheeks as his eyes landed on you, and you smiled sheepishly as you approached.

“Hey Buck,” you softly said as you reached him. “Sorry about what you heard back there - Nat was just teasing, she didn’t mean any of it.”

“Didn’t she?” He asked, raising a single eyebrow.

“What?” You frowned, unsure how to interpret his response. There was a way you wanted this to go, but you didn’t want to get your wires crossed and make even more of a fool of yourself.

“You said she didn’t mean any of it, but how can you be sure?”

He pushed himself off the wall and fixed you with an intense gaze, making your knees weak and your breath short. You didn’t dare look away - afraid that if you did, this moment would end.

“I-uh…I don’t know what you’re getting at here, Buck…” you stammered, too dumbfounded to form a better response. You were very aware of how close the two of you were and the smell of his cologne and warmth emanating from his body was making your brain short circuit.

“Then let me show you.”

There was no hesitation as he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, and you melted into him with a whimper. The sound gave him the encouragement he was looking for and he spun you round so that he could press you up against the wall, moaning into your mouth as you raked your hands through his hair.

Everything around you ceased to exist and all sense left you as you gave into your desires, the feeling of Bucky’s hands roaming your body setting your skin on fire. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you’d never even let yourself hope that Bucky might actually feel the same, yet here you were, making out with him while his sizable bulge pressed up against you.

Had Sam not cleared his throat over the comms, you were sure you’d have let the super soldier take you right there and then, regardless of the fact that you were in public and on a mission.

“Channel is still very much open, guys,” he informed, and Bucky’s eyes widened in horror as he pulled away. You giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“I’m not even sorry,” you told Sam teasingly, straightening up and readjusting your dress. You were aware of Bucky’s eyes on you and you looked up to meet his hungry gaze.

“I can’t wait to get that thing off you when we’re finished here,” he blurted, and you bit your lip as heat flooded your core.

“Then we’d better hurry up and finish,” you replied, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the main room so that you could get the mission, and later on your clothes, out of the way.

PART 2

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #avengers #sebastian stan #fatws #winter soldier #natasha romanoff #sam wilson

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multifandomsw · 1 year

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Feeling you

Summary: After finding out about Poe’s new love, you were beginning to avoid him. As your best friend, Poe didn’t take it well.

Poe Dameron x Reader

She/her

You stopped your fast steps when your eyes caught something outside.

The rain was pouring down in streams, the heavy rain clouds covering even the shine of the moon, it was pitch black outside.

There was, however, something that still shone, that stood out.

A flower stood out, standing in the middle of a meadow. It was not uncommon for flowers to grow on Ajan Kloos, as it was a very humid planet, but you’d never seen one quite like this.

Even though the darkness was engulfing everything around it, the flower shone in a beautiful purple color, illuminating the meadow around it.

It was a beautiful sight, really.

There was a sudden urge to go outside, to pick it up and give it to your best friend as a present.

Nonetheless, your train of thoughts was suddenly interrupted when you heard the distant thunder.

Your heartbeat fastened at once as you remembered why you were even in the halls in the middle of the night.

You quickly backed away, a shiver running down your spine as you continued your fast steps. The hallways were pitch black, too. You wondered if the storm outside had something to do with it.

It didn’t bother you, though, because you knew the way to your best friend’s room even blindly.

You knew the way to Poe’s room blindly.

When you arrived, you didn’t even hesitate a second to knock.

You wouldn’t have to knock, he had told you his code long ago, but you still did.

It just became a habit. You didn’t want to disturb him when he had more important things to do, like going through missions plans, hanging out with other friends.

“Nothing is more important than you”

Out of all the words the Galactic Basic had, you hadn’t found any to answer this.

The door opened with a small creak, one you hadn’t noticed until now, and you expected to be met with the sight of ruffled hair, worn out pajamas and the most breathtaking little smile of the galaxy.

What you didn’t expect, though, was to be met with someone else entirely.

Instead of Poe, you were met with the sight of a woman, or rather, the silhouette of a woman.

And as if the galaxy wasn’t on your side that day, the raining abruptly stopped and the clouds vanished slowly.

Suddenly, moon light from the window behind you shone directly on her face.

And oh, how your heart stopped.

She was beyond gorgeous. Her long blonde hair was sitting perfectly, falling as waves from her shoulders. What stood out the most were her beautiful blue big eyes, staring down at you, as well as her full rosy lips.

You had never seen her before, but maker, she was breathtaking.

Your eyes moved to the ground, but they caught a glimpse of what she was wearing.

Almost nothing, except for a large shirt covering her bare body.

Your mind hadn’t yet comprehended the situation completely, as you backed away slowly. “Wrong room, I’m sorry, I-“, your voice broke at the end, but you didn’t dare to look up once more.

“It’s okay.”, she said sweetly. Maker, even her voice sounded beautiful. You imagined she offered you a smile, but you were already walking away from the room.

When you heard Poe’s door click behind you, only then did you think of what had just happened.

Poe was with someone else.

You really didn’t want to compare yourself to her, you tried not to, but it was just so hard.

She was, undoubtedly, the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.

You couldn’t deny it, even if you wanted to, but she was perfect and everything you expected Poe to like as his partner.

You stood in the middle of the hallway, completely frozen, as the realization hit you like a rock.

Poe would never like you how you so adoringly liked him.

You slowly raised your hands, your shaking hands, to your cheeks, only hoping one thing, to not feel any wetness.

But of course, you did. Tears were streaming down your face. When had that happened? Had she seen them? Would she tell Poe?

You felt ridiculous for crying. Of course he would never like you back. It had been obvious to everyone, including you, this whole time.

He was the resistance’s best pilot after all, the most handsome pilot on base, the nicest person you had ever got to know.

You, a simple mechanic without any friends apart from him, Rey and Finn, could never even think of him liking you in that way.

Nevertheless, there had always been that hope nagging at the back of your mind. It was deeply buried, but you held onto it, in hopes that he may see you someday, may feel your love someday.

You wanted to scream, to cry out, to hit yourself because oh, you had been so oblivious, so ridiculous.

Your lip began trembling and you just tried to clear your vision, tried to wipe the tears away from your face.

But they wouldn’t stop, you couldn’t to anything against them.

You gulped hard, letting out a frustrated sigh. How would you find your way back to your room when your vision was blurred-

Someone faintly said your name. It was only a whisper, coming from somewhere in front of you.

You shook your head, you were imagining things, there was no one-

“Hey.”, someone suddenly grabbed your hands, preventing them from rubbing furiously at your eyes.

The touch was warm, the touch was familiar. You wished you could see the person-

“I’m here. Calm down.”, the reassuring voice told you. Calm down? Why would you need to calm down?

It was only now that you noticed your heavy breathing, like you didn’t have any oxygen left.

“Slow breaths, okay?”, the person instructed you, the male voice soothing you.

He raised his hands to slowly wipe away your tears, his thumbs grazing over your cheeks ever so slightly.

“It’s me.”, he whispered, and when your vision finally cleared, you were met with the sight of Finn.

You let out a breath of relief, and without thinking, you fell into his embrace, hugging him tightly.

He cradled your head softly, rocking on his feet so that he could calm you down.

“What happened?”, he whispered after a short break of silence.

“Nothing.”, your muffled voice answered, your face deeply buried into his shirt.

He softly said your name, not in a scolding tone, but a demanding one. “What happened? Was it the storm?”

You nodded against his shirt, not entirely telling him the truth, but a part of it.

You had always been afraid of storms, and when they would occur, you would walk to Poe’s room for comfort.

“Come on, I’ll bring you to his room.”, Finn let go of you slowly, gently ushering you into the direction you had just walked away from.

“No.”, you gently whispered, stopping in your tracks. “Please.”

And now, Finn was more than concerned. Poe and you were inseparable, always bringing each other comfort.

Why wouldn’t you want to go to him?

Finn put his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look up at him through glazed eyes.

“What happened?”

You gulped, hard. You couldn’t hide any secrets from Finn, you were never able to.

He knew of your feelings for Poe, of your unrequited love, of everything.

“When I knocked at his room, there was a girl opening the door”, you admitted, hanging your head low.

It was enough said for Finn to understand what you meant.

“What?”, Finn breathed out, sounding like he couldn’t believe it.

And no, he could truly not believe it. He knew that your feelings for Poe had never been unrequited, Poe had liked you from the moment he first saw you.

Finn wasn’t in the place to tell Poe that you felt the same, but he tried to encourage him every day to just tell you, tell you before it would be too late.

Why would Poe want someone else then? To distract himself?

Finn let go of you at once, and without rationally thinking, he made his way to Poe’s room.

“No!”, you pulled at his sleeve, making him stop. “Please don’t.”

Finn shook his head. “I don’t understand him.”

You offered Finn a sad smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “It’s Poe. I knew he’d never like me back, it’s okay.”

Finn scoffed. “It’s your Poe.”

You just shook your head. “There’s no my Poe, Finn.”

Oh, how wrong you were.

“Come on, you’ll sleep in my room today.”, he gently grabbed your arm, guiding you to his room, that was luckily, quite far away from Poe’s.

“What were you even doing here?”, you questioned him as you made your way through the hallways.

“A feeling.”

You kept your head down the whole breakfast, hoping that Poe wouldn’t find you, that you wouldn’t have to deal with talking to him.

Both Finn and Rey were sitting at the same table, Finn next to you and Rey on the other side.

You poked in your food, not even thinking of eating it. You weren’t hungry.

“You should eat something.”, Rey’s voice interrupted your poking and you looked up at her face, filled with concern.

“I’m simply not hungry. I will eat later.”, your promised her reassuringly, but she didn’t quite believe you.

Both Finn and her shared another concern look.

Before any of them could say anything, though, Poe approached the table with a smile.

You quickly adverted your eyes again, moving closer to Finn.

“Good morning.”, he smiled, his eyes only trained on you.

Why didn’t you look up?

He stood there for a second, waiting for an answer, but he didn’t receive one.

“Hey man.”, he looked at Finn now. “You’re occupying my seat.”

The seat next to you, where he always sat.

Finn tried to smile back at him. “We thought you wouldn’t come, you’re already late.”, Finn shrugged his shoulder and Poe just accepted his fate, taking the seat next to Rey.

“Hey.”, he nudged your feet under the table, trying to gain your attention, trying to see your eyes.

You but you lip and slowly looked up, up into his beautiful brown eyes. Oh, how you always got lost into them.

You tried to offer him a small smile, as best as you could. “Hm?”

“Where were you last night?”, he questioned. “Because of the storm I mean, I went to your room, but I couldn’t find you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows for a second. Had the blonde girl told him anything about yesterday? Why would he go to your room? Had she left after you knocked?

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself off the thoughts.

“I stayed at Finn’s.”, you answered him honestly because Poe could read you like a book and always knew when you were lying.

His heart broke a bit in his chest at that. Why would you go to Finn’s instead of his room?

“Oh.”, was the only thing he could get out, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

Did you just hear sadness in his voice? No, there was no way that he would care.

“Yeah.”, you replied, continuing to poke in your food.

Before he could say anything else, though, you stood up. “I’m heading out.”, you told them. “I have a few repairs to do.”

Poe’s eyes moved from you to the full plate sitting on the table. He stood up immediately. “Hey, you need to eat-“

You turned around, waiting for him to continue, but someone was stopping him and talking to him.

When you noticed the blonde hair, your heart stopped in your chest.

The girl turned around shortly, looking at you and shooting you a small smile.

Why was she so nice?

You tried to smile back, but immediately backed away and all but sprinted out of the cantina.

The following days, he couldn’t find you in the cantina anymore.

A knock at your door was what was pulling you out of your thoughts.

You were about to open the door, taking a bit longer than usual, when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hello?”, Poe asked and you stopped in your tracks. “Are you there?”, he questioned, his voice filled with a bit of sadness.

You heard him sigh on the other side of the door. “I brought you food.”, he continued. “I noticed you don’t eat with us anymore. Finn and Rey told me you were very busy and that was the reason why. I asked Leia, too, and she told me that you had a lot of repairs to do.”

You smiled a bit at that.

“I know that you sometimes forget to eat, so I brought you some food, just in case you haven’t eaten today.”

You heard him leaning against the door, so you took a few step forward to hear him a bit clearer.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, you’re probably not in your room right now, but if you are, I miss you. I haven’t seen you in like two weeks. So if you ever have a few spare minutes for your best friend-“, you noticed his voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Was he crying?

“If you ever have a few spare minutes for your best friend.”, he repeated with a shaky voice. “Just come to my room. You know where to find me. I just- I miss our late night talks.”

You leaned against the door now, too, desperately wanting to open it, but you couldn’t deal with the heartbreak when he’d tell you about his love life.

“Uhm- the food’s in front of the door. I left a note so you know it’s from me. Yeah, that’s it. I’m just gonna go.”

You noticed he didn’t go.

You head him slip down the door, heard his heavy breathing against the door.

Poe’s eyes darted across the hanger, trying to find you.

You didn’t work on his ship anymore, like you always had.

He almost missed you, you were taking very quick steps.

“Hey!”, he called, jogging up to you and trying to catch up with you.

You didn’t turn around, had you not heard him?

“Hey!”, he tried again, grabbing your wrist.

Now you had to turn around.

You breathed in deeply, forcing a smile on your face when you turned around.

“Poe.”, you breathed out, desperately trying to avoid his eyes.

Poe noticed immediately, noticed how the smile on your face wasn’t real. It didn’t reach your eyes.

“Hi.”, he breathed out, relieved to see you again, he hadn’t seen your face in a long time.

“Uhm-“, he let go of your arm. “Are you finished with all the repairs for today?”, he questioned, hoping that his plan would work.

“Yeah, I was just about to head out.”, you answered him.

This was his chance.

“Great.”, he stated awkwardly. When had things become so weird between you? “Would you like to go on a walk with me?”

You gulped, of course you wanted, you missed him so much, but you were avoiding him. You tried to suppress your feelings for him and it wasn’t working when Poe was in your presence.

“I would love to.”, you admitted and watched as Poe’s features lit up. “But I already promised Finn to help him with something.”, you watched as Poe’s face fell.

“But uh-,” you tried to reassure him. “Next time. I promise.”

Poe hung his head low. “Yeah, next time.”, he mumbled.

Poe stared at the wall in front of him, painted blue with a few flowers.

He wondered for a second if you’d like the flowers painted on the wall.

If you would, he would try to find them without hesitation. Even if it meant flying through the whole galaxy.

He’d do anything for you.

“Poe.”, a voice called out and he snapped his head in the direction the voice had come from.

Finn appeared in front of him, a worried expression plastered onto his face.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”, he questioned, not having listened for the last ten minutes.

Finn sighed. “Buddy.”, he began, his voice suddenly very stern. “You can’t keep on being like this.”

Poe hadn’t eaten in a while.

The bags under his eyes were probably permanent by now.

His hair was constantly ruffled, the clothes he had on the same ones like the week before.

He wasn’t passionate anymore, flying wasn’t making him happy anymore.

Whenever someone tried to talk to him, he was annoyed, snapping at anyone.

Poe scoffed. “You know exactly why I’m being like this.”, he stated.

Finn already knew the answer, had known it for some time, but he needed to hear it. From Poe.

“Do you love her?”

Poe’s eyes snapped up towards Finn’s, and for a second he didn’t say anything, just stared into his eyes.

“You know the answer to that.”

“Say it, Poe.”

Poe let out a deep breath. “That ring around my neck.”, he began. “I’ve always wanted it to belong to her. I want it to belong to her someday.”

And that was enough said.

Everyone was celebrating.

There was another win against the First Order, another step further for the resistance to win.

There was not much hope left, but that win, it brought back the hope.

And of course, Poe had something to do with it.

To say you were proud was an understatement, you wanted to hug him, to congratulate him, but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t.

However, your heart swelled with pride at the thought of him saving the resistance once again.

As you made your way to get a drink, you bumped into someone on the way.

Your eyes widened and they moved to the person’s face, and of course the galaxy wasn’t on your side that day.

The big blue eyes of Amy, Finn had told you her name, looked up at you. “Oh, I’m sorry.”, you apologized, ready to move away as far as possible before you’d be comparing yourself to her.

“It’s okay.”, she offered you a smile, but quickly caught your arm. “I’m Amy. I’ve seen you around sometimes, but never quite caught your name.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m not quite famous here.”, you admitted and quietly told her your name.

“Oh, I’ve heard your name.”, she grinned. “You’re one of the best mechanics the resistance has.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, she was really nice and you could totally understand why Poe would like her.

You had seen them talk to each other on multiple occasions.

“Don’t flatter me.”

“Commander Dameron told me, you know? He admires you.”

You looked up at her, looking for even a hint of jealousy in her eyes, but the only thing you saw was an understanding look.

“Well, I think I should be the one admiring him.”

Amy laughed at that. “He wouldn’t admit it, but my husband admired him very much.”

You almost choke on your own spit.

Husband?

Her husband?

“Your husband?”

“Oh yeah, he’s a pilot for red squadron. He has always admired Commander Dameron and his flying skills. It’s cute.”

Your mind still couldn’t proceed the information you had just got.

As if Amy had seen your confused expression, she explained further. “You remember when you accidentally knocked on our door? That was his room, actually. I just stay over very often.”, she explained further.

There was no way.

There was no way that you had knocked on the wrong door.

Suddenly, guilt washed over you.

You had avoided Poe and he hadn’t even done anything wrong.

You hadn’t asked him, hadn’t talked to him, hadn’t questioned him, you had just decided to avoid him.

You felt even more ridiculous now, the base of a friendship is trust and you hadn’t even trusted him enough to ask him, to tell him what had happened.

You threw away a friendship because of pure jealousy, because of wanting to have him for your own, even though you had always known you never would.

In the future, if Poe ever found someone to give that ring to, you would have to accept that, too.

You couldn’t just throw away a friendship because of that.

“It was nice meeting you, Amy.”, you quickly excused yourself, making your way through the crowd and trying to find somewhere to sit, somewhere to just think.

You quickly made your way into the forest, leaving against the first tree you could see and sinking down.

You wanted to hit yourself because of your own stupidity.

Oh, what a bad friend you were.

A small tear escaped your eyes at the realization.

You hadn’t been there for him these past few weeks.

Your thoughts stopped abruptly when you heard a sniffling sound coming from, almost directly next to you.

You looked to the side and saw a pair of boots. Someone was sitting on the other side of the tree.

“Are you okay?”, you whispered, knowing that the person must have heard you.

There was a short break of silence in which the sniffling had stopped, before someone softly, and quietly, whispered your name.

Poe.

You wanted to stand up, to look at him, to hug him, but something was holding you down. It was as if you couldn’t move.

And Poe couldn’t either.

Instead of moving, though, you stretched out your hand, looking to the side to see Poe doing the same thing.

Without any hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his small one, feeling his cold hands slowly warming up.

“What are you doing here?”

You gulped. It was time to say the truth.

You leaned your head against the tree and your eyes trained to the stars above you. “I’m an idiot.”, you simply stated and it was the truth.

He repeated your name softly. “You are not anidiot.”

“No.”, you stopped him from continuing. “I am, Poe. I am the biggest idiot.”

“What-“

“I’m sorry.”, you finally let out, holding his small finger a bit tighter. “For everything. Avoiding you, ignoring you, I’m sorry for all of it.”

Poe remained silence, not finding any words. You had been ignoring you, had been avoiding him. He just needed to know why. “There’s one thing I need to know.”, Poe leaned his head to the side, wanting to hear you better. “What have I done wrong?”

Your whole body tensed at that.

“Nothing.”

Poe furrowed his eyebrows. “Then why-“

You wanted to explain everything, to let him know of the misunderstanding, but you couldn’t get any words out.

The force was an energy field, flowing through every living thing.

Rey had told you about your force sensitivity, however, you had never embraced it, never tried to.

You always thought the force wouldn’t help you, always thought that being force sensitive only brought bad things with it.

Now, nonetheless, you wanted to try something.

You closed your eyes slowly, and concentrated on the force, letting every feeling you had towards Poe, every thought, out in the air.

You couldn’t explain what happened to him, but you wanted him to feel it, to understand you.

Poe’s breathing stopped when he felt the overwhelming emotions around him, when he felt every single one of your thoughts at once.

Realization hit him and it was as if his broken heart was being mend by you.

“I feel you.”, he whispered. “I feel your love.”

The invisible strength was no longer holding him down, and he stood up immediately, taking two steps and looking directly at you- whose eyes were still closed.

He held his hand down and as if you could feel it, you reached out to him, letting him pull you up.

“Look at me.”

You didn’t want to look at him, you didn’t want to be met by the eyes of someone that didn’t love you.

Poe took a step closer. “Please.”

When he saw that you still didn’t open your eyes, he reached out for your hand once again, laying it directly on his-

On his necklace.

“I can’t make you feel my love like you did.”, he began. “But I can, and I will tell you a thousand times if you allow me the chance to love you.”

Your eyes snapped open at the confession, and upon being met with his warm brown eyes, your heart melted.

His eyes moved from yours down to your lips, as if asking for permission.

And when you nodded, he didn’t hesitate to take a step forward, didn’t hesitate to gently and slowly brush his lips against yours.

And suddenly, you could feel his emotions in the air, too. Suddenly, you could feel his love, too.

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe x reader #poe dameron angst #poe dameron x reader #star wars

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hello-kuni · 7 months

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𝐵𝐸 𝑀𝑌 𝑂𝑁𝐶𝐸 𝐼𝑁 𝐴 𝐿𝐼𝐹𝐸𝑇𝐼𝑀𝐸 - diluc ragnvindr

body worship : masterlist

syn : after many set backs on your journey, you had no choice but to stay the night at a small inn. that cramped space did no favors for years of infatuation. how long can he last before he shows you his long kept secret?

length : 3.1k

warnings : 18+ minors do not interact, princess!reader, knight!diluc, some angst (i'm so sorry it wrote itself i swear), virgin reader (and virgin diluc but he won't tell you that until years later), body worship but it's kinda subtle? unintentionally, pussy eating, raw sex, breast play, one minor instance of power imbalance

notes : this turned out kinda soft instead of kinky, but that's okay but it'll get worse this month

as the moon rose higher and the sun sank lower, diluc made the decision to stop at the nearest inn. if it had just been him it wouldn’t have been an issue to press on the rest of the way. but with you in his care, he couldn’t bear to risk your safety.

however, so far from the capital, the cities grew further and further apart. a suitable inn would be like finding an oasis in a desert. and he was right. the inn was tiny enough to barely qualify. it would have to make do. you didn’t much mind it, though. not when you were finally outside the stuffy palace walls. not when you got to be alone with diluc.

the two of you grew up together. always at each other's side. but lately, it felt like you saw less of him with each passing day. he was supposed to be your personal guard but there was always someone new each week. part of you felt that he was avoiding you. every time that thought crossed your mind it rose such hideous emotions you fought hard to keep at bay. when it was announced you were to pay a visit to a duke in the north on official business, you jumped at the opportunity to appoint him as the head of your detail.

diluc did not oppose, but he also said nothing.

outside the inn, diluc ordered the other guards to stay outside, where they would camp for the night. the innkeeper apologized profusely about the lack of space and made up for it with a hefty amount of food. despite your protests. it wasn’t his fault such a large party ended up there.

with your one suitcase in hand, you headed into the small room with diluc in tow. he was grumbling about something you chose not to hear.

“it’s cute,” you said of the room as you set the suitcase on the floor.

“it’s small,” he remarked, though not with derision.

“well, we can’t expect much so far between cities.” you turned around and sighed. he’d already disappeared into the bathroom. the sound of running water met your ears. when he emerged a few minutes later, you asked, “is something bothering you? you’ve been short with me all day.”

“it’s been a long day, your highness,” he sighed. he never addressed you like that. you knew not to press an issue when he got like that, so you let it go. “you should bathe now before the water goes cold.”

that final statement left you no room to argue. funny how a knight could make you feel so small. with a huff, you grabbed your clothes and went into the bathroom. it was the least relaxing bath you’d ever had. this trip up north was supposed to mend the broken bridge between the two of you. but he just kept widening the distance.

you tried--and failed--to scrub away the frustration. for years something bloomed in your chest every time you looked at him. when you caught a glimpse of his smile, the concentrated look when he was on the training grounds, or the softness of his features as he napped in the garden when only you were around. he was stern and often cold to others, even when he acted in good faith. but he was vulnerable when it was just the two of you. as were you. how many nights had either of you spent consoling the other? how many traded tears did you keep bottled in your hearts?

despite your title, you dared to dream of a life where you got to be with him. happily. forever.

with a heavy heart, you dragged yourself out of the shallow tub. with the hem of the silk nightgown brushing your calves, you walked back into the room only to find diluc sitting against the wall opposite the bed. he cracked his eyes open only wide enough to peer at you before closing them again.

nothing was said as you climbed into bed. you stared at the dark ceiling, unable to fall asleep.

“you don’t really plan to sleep down there, do you?” you asked. “there’s plenty of room on the bed.”

that wasn’t true. the bed would barely be able to fit him and you side by side. but you couldn’t bear the suffocating weight that hung in the air.

“it would be inappropriate if i did, your highness.”

there it was again: that formal title. you sat up. before you knew what you were doing, you crawled to the end of the bed. all the bottled up the emotions poured out. you bit your bottom lip to keep the welling tears from falling over. your voice sounded strained as you spoke. “what did i do to drive you away?”

diluc’s head snapped forward. even in the dark, his red hair still glowed like a beacon leading you home. feeling like this, lost and confused, all you wanted was his warm embrace. the same as all those other nights. the idea of never having that again filled you with such sorrow.

“what are you talking about?”

a sob broke free. “you used to always be at my side, but now i’m always lonely. for you to put such a distance between us, i must have done something. tell me what it is. i’ll fix it.”

you had crawled off the bed and towards him. it took everything in you not to reach out to him.

he took a slow, shaky breath. he took your hands in his, the grip loose but steady unlike his voice as he spoke. “i knew that if i didn’t distance myself from you, i wouldn’t be able to keep my feelings at bay.”

“your feelings?”

“i love you in a way i’m not allowed to.”

“diluc, i--”

“don’t,” he cut you off, turning his face away. “you don’t understand how i feel about you, or for how long. if i told you all the things i want to do to you, you would have me thrown in the dungeons. please, princess, just let me be.”

he let go of your hands, simultaneously pushing you away.

you couldn’t let this be the end. not when he was so close. finally so close after so long. you leaned forward, planting your hands on either side of his face and forcing him to look at you. pain twisted his features. longing filled his eyes. and something much more intense lay beneath it all. there were no words you could find to perfectly express yourself, so you settled for gently pressing your lips against his own.

diluc stiffened under your touch. but he didn’t pull away. he couldn’t bring himself to do so. the kiss he’d always dreamed of finally happened, and he could do nothing about it. only knowing that he wanted more.

as the initial shock wore off, diluc’s body relaxed and he pulled you in for another kiss. this time laced with years worth of desire. he pushed you back, lip-locked, and you had barely the mind to put your hands back and catch yourself.

when he finally pulled away, air rushed back into your lungs. he huffed as he searched your eyes for any hint of unsurety. you were more sure of this moment than you’d ever been of anything in your life before.

he froze above you. something like regret or terror flashed in his eyes. once more, he pulled away, backing against the wall.

“if i order you to, will that change anything?” you asked.

“you know well that i can’t go against your word, and i know well you would never use your power like that.”

he was right. you sat on your knees, tired of this hot-and-cold game. “anything,” you said. hoping against all odds that this would be a better approach. he needn’t hold back anymore. “you can do anything. i want it. more than you can possibly know.”

he shook his head, wisps of red hair dancing over his cheeks. “i’ve already done more than i should. i’m satisfied.”

“i’m not.” the words came out a half shout. “how could one kiss ever be enough? i want a lifetime.”

“and i want to give you a lifetime,” he bit out. his eyes were fiery as he met your gaze in the dark. “but we both know i can’t give you that.”

“then give it to me now, if only for one night.” one night would never be enough, but it would be better than regretting having had nothing. you could see in his eyes he thought the same.

“there’s no undoing it,” he said.

“i don’t want it to be undone. not with you. never with you.”

a thin stream of moonlight filtered into the room, highlighting the bob of his throat as he swallowed hard. he stood and pulled you up with him. his body firm against yours. the rapid beat of his heart a twin to yours. what was about to happen could not be undone. if anyone found out, you would be ruined. he would lose his position and his family’s favor of the royal family for laying such hands on the kingdom’s beloved princess. why did something so pure have to feel so selfish? if only you’d been born in a lower station or he in a higher station. then perhaps this love wouldn’t be so complicated. so hidden and buried.

his fingertips ghosted down your jaw, lightly gripping your chin. he stared at your lips. you waited with bated breath. finally, he leaned down and caught your lips in a gentle kiss. if he was going to do this, he wouldn’t rush it. he’d take all night if he had to. and cherish every second while he could.

one step and then another. he walked you back towards the bed all while keeping your lips connected. he guided you carefully onto the bed, taking a brief moment to catch your breath. light kisses trailed up your jaw and back down. kisses landed anywhere he could touch. he met your gaze, steady and alight with a mix of emotions.

“i want to show you the depths of my love. i want you to feel every bit of how much i adore you.”

his words met you squarely. this one and only chance and he wanted to make the most of it. just as you did. it would be a waste of a night to not. he trailed his lips down the contours of your body, over the silk nightgown hugging every curve. he stopped where the hem met your calves. warm breath taunted burning skin. never had you wanted anything more than to feel his lips on your leg, to feel them make their way higher and higher.

his teeth dug into the plump flesh of your thigh. not hard enough to break skin, but enough to elicit a hiss of breath followed by a shaky moan. your heart raced the closer he got to your aching pussy.

propped against the pillows and your nightgown bunched around your waist, you had a clear view of diluc as his lips met yours. the first lick of his tongue had your head pressing deeply into the pillow. it was a foreign feeling. one that possibly only he could elicit. the only one you wanted to make you feel this way.

he brought his hands up under your ass, pulling you against his mouth. he moaned into you. the feeling, the taste, the reality. all of it melted together on his tongue.

“so good, princess,” he murmured. “so good.”

the bed rocked subtly as he ground his hips against the mattress. any friction was good enough, just to sate him a while longer.

your toes curled. thighs clenching tighter with each swipe and swirl of his tongue. but the worst—or best—part was each gentle suck of your clit. every earlier worry washed away, forgotten in the depths of your mind. the only thing you could focus on was his touch. each point you bodies connected, however lightly, set your skin aflame. blissfully so.

he was unhurried. taking his time as he drew you ever nearer to the peak of pleasure. his nose pressing into you clit as his tongue prodding at your sopping hole. your back arched off the bed, hands fisting the sheets. you fought hard to keep the noises budding in your throat from spilling out, lest the other knights outside begin to make assumptions. but it was a futile effort.

his name fell from your mouth amid a moan as your legs trembled with the sheer force of your orgasm. he never stopped, never slowed. he didn’t seem to care how tightly your legs closed around his head, or how harshly your hands pulled on his hair—where they had subconsciously found their way.

none of that mattered to him. not now. not ever.

it took a long moment for you to come back down. chest heaving and legs twitching. only then did he part from you. he looked up at you from his place between your legs.

“i wish you could see how beautiful you look right now,” he said, lips glistening with the evidence of your orgasm.

the thought was far too embarrassing. being so exposed in front of someone was already an ordeal of its own, to think about how you looked to him was unfathomable.

he tore you from your thoughts as he littered kisses across your belly, working his way up to your breasts, still hidden beneath silk. his lips lingered just below your collarbone as he tugged your nightgown down, enough to free your breasts.

his lips wrapped around a nipple, sucking gently. one hand came up to play with other, carefully rolling and pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. he’d be lying if he said in the years of late he hadn’t thought about this. quietly undressing you in his mind, imagining the way your breasts would look in his hands. it still seemed so unreal to him. that he was here. with you under him. time your greatest enemy. and your dear friend.

you told him he could do anything he wanted and you meant it. but he was the epitome of chivalry. never would he treat you in a way unbecoming of a princess. his touch was delicate. carefully unwrapping you with the utmost care. you could tell he was holding back, however, no amount of reassurance would make him act his deepest desires.

perhaps what that was what attracted you to him.

his devotion to his code as a knight. beyond ensuring your safety from those who may wish to do you harm.

despite loving the feeling of his mouth on your nipple, you pulled him away. you wanted his lips on yours. you didn’t want to wait any longer, not with the night slipping away. you wanted to feel him. all of him.

he seemed to understand through the touch of your lips alone. his forehead dropped against your own. “are you ready?” he whispered, breath tickling your nose.

propped on his elbows above you, his hair created a red curtain around you. encapsulating you in a world only you two belonged. where this night would never end and loving each other wouldn’t have to be a shameful secret.

you wanted to stay there forever.

“yes,” you said with what may have been too enthusiastic of a nod. your hands rested on the nape of his neck, threading through the hair there. his eyes searched yours for any hint of doubt. but your gaze was steady, unwavering.

diluc reached between your bodies to align the tip of his cock with your awaiting entrance. he sank into you slowly with a single push until his hips were flush with yours.

you winced at the stretch, nails digging into the backs of his shoulders. the pain didn’t faze him. you could draw blood and he wouldn’t bat an eye.

he kissed your cheek. “if it’s too much, we can stop.”

“no, no.” you took a deep breath and pushed your hips up. “keep going.”

he hesitated, not wanting to put your through something uncomfortable. he’d spent his whole life ensuring you were never hurt, and now he was the one causing you pain. but he trusted you. so he continued.

the first roll of his hips was short. no more than a test. the next one was longer, slower. the knot between your brows loosened with each tender thrust. your legs wrapped around his waist, nails dragging down his back.

his head fell into the crook of your neck, lips attaching to your skin. you’d heard about this feeling in conversation with other court ladies, some disagreeing with other, but you never knew how wonderful it would feel. or if it ever would again.

each long drag of his cock against your sensitive walls plucked a moan from you. the initial pain gave way to pleasure you had only ever felt in dreams that had you blushing for a whole day. you’d blush every day for months after this.

your nails decorated his back.

he spoke your name into your shoulder. not “princess” as he had always called you, but your name. you held him tighter, your pussy tightening around him with that one word.

“i’m gonna—” you were cut off by a sudden moan at the feeling of his tip hitting a spot you didn’t know could elicit such a feeling.

“just a little longer,” he said. his thrusts had grown erratic, nearing then end you were already at. little moans spilled from your lips as you came around him, back arching and breasts pressing against his chest.

he bit down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet as he came inside you. he gave a few slow, shallow rolls of his hips. your chest heaved with the effort to catch your breath.

diluc rolled over with you in his arms, not yet pulling out. if only to relish in the feeling of being in you. he stared at the ceiling and traced light shapes on your back. your head lay on his chest, his rapid heartbeat echoing in your ear.

“tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he said.

you propped yourself up on his chest, looking at him intently. “i’m not giving up on you, diluc. whatever doubts or reservations you may have for the future, i won’t give up.”

after tonight, how could you ever fathom spending your life with another man? he was the only one you dreamed of a lifetime with. and you would have that.

#genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #diluc smut #genshin impact x you #diluc x you #genshin x you

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 4 months

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Let It Out

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Castiel & teen!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Having two older brothers who fight monsters had its own set of problems. Being a witch doubled those problems. Suffering from a depression that you didn’t dare tell your family about, that just multiplied everything until every little task felt impossible to complete with such a weight on top of you.

You had had a handle on your life for a long time—after all, you were used to the hunting and the lack of sleep and the loss. That is, until a certain archangel friend of yours died. That was when your depression really got going—Gabriel was gone, and it was like his death reminded you of everyone you’d ever lost, and you couldn’t take it.

The worst part was that you couldn’t tell your brothers; they were busy saving the world, the last thing they needed to hear about was your problems. Besides, they had it just as hard as you, if not harder. Why should you make it all about you?

So, you didn’t say anything, and it was taking its toll on you and your skill set. Magic was dependent on emotions, and yours were everywhere.

It wasn’t just your magic that was changing; school wasn’t going so well either. The boys were too busy to have noticed, but your grades were dropping and—

“Y/N?” Sam’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you turned to see him holding up a piece of paper. When you caught a glimpse of the front, your stomach dropped. It was your report card. “What’s this?”

“I-um…” you had nothing to say.

“You can do better than this. Much better. We both know that, so what happened?”

“I-I just…got distracted.”

“Distracted?” You hadn’t noticed Dean in the corner of the room until he stood up and spoke. “By what, hunting? I thought you agreed, school comes first.”

“It does!” You insisted. “I just—“

“If you can’t do both, you know which one you’re dropping,” Sam said.

“No!” You panicked. Hunting was the only outlet you had for your powers, and right now your powers were the only outlet you had for your grief.

“We agreed!” Dean insisted. “You said you would drop hunting if you can’t do both.”

“But I can!”

“This says otherwise.” Sam waved your report card.

“That’s not fair!” You cried. “One report card doesn’t-“

“Your grades have been dropping for a while,” Sam interrupted. “I just didn’t think they would get this bad. I should’ve mentioned it sooner, I just…” he sighed. “I thought it would get better.”

“It will! Don’t stop me from hunting,” you pleaded.

“You’re not giving me much of a choice!”

“Sam, you can’t—“

“That’s enough,” Dean barked, and you both shut up. “We made an agreement, and you’re going to honor it. Until the grades go up, you’re not hunting.” Dean slung his bag over his shoulder as he spoke. “We’ve got work to do. You stay here and study for that test you told me about, understand?” Dean’s tone left no room for argument.

“I understand,” you grumbled, unable to look him in the eye, whether from anger or sadness you weren’t sure.

“Good.”

Your brothers were gone without another word.

As the Impala’s engine started up and the boys drove away, your hands curled into fists and you let out a yell of frustration. You jumped in surprise when the table next to you fell over. Did you bump it? You didn’t think you did.

Maybe you needed to pay closer attention to your powers. Or maybe you just needed to put them to good use.

…

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Dean demanded.

“I think I’m saving your bacon!” You retorted before casting a spell on the closest ghoul.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Sam insisted before taking a headshot at the ghoul heading for Dean.

“You’re welcome,” you grumbled as Dean shot the ghoul that you had petrified with your spell.

“Y/N behind yo-“ a third ghoul pounced on you before Sam got the chance to warn you.

Dean tried to aim at it, but he couldn’t get a clear shot without risking hitting you.

Sam jumped into action at your cry of pain. The ghoul had bitten into your shoulder before Sam managed to tackle it off you.

As soon as you and Sam were clear, Dean blasted the ghoul’s head off.

“Y/N?” Sam was by your side in an instant, peeling the fabric of your shirt away from your bleeding shoulder, cringing when you cried out in pain. “Ok, you’re ok, you’re gonna be fine.”

“That was crazy,” Dean grumbled as he knelt next to you to examine your injury. “That was really stupid, kid.”

“I-I didn’t see him,” you cringed. “I-I’m sor-“ you broke off with a cry of pain when Dean lifted your head, jostling your injured shoulder.

“You shouldn’t have even been here,” Dean sighed, glaring at you. “And I thought you got that guy with a spell! Your magic doesn’t seem to—“

“Dean, she’s bleeding a lot,” Sam interrupted quietly, glancing nervously at the growing puddle of blood beneath you. “I think we should try for Cas.”

“Hey Cas,” Dean stepped away from you to talk to the angel. “Cas, we need you over here! Y/N’s hurt pretty bad. Can you—“

“I’m here.” Sam jumped in surprise when Castiel appeared next to you.

“Cas,” you croaked, whimpering when Sam moved to make room for Cas.

“Shh, it’s alright little one. This won’t hurt at all.” Cas placed two fingers on your forehead, and your wound slowly sealed itself with a blue glow.

“Thanks Cas,” you breathed as you slowly sat up, rubbing your shoulder as the pain slowly went away.

“Cas,” Dean spoke up. “I think her magic’s gone all wack, can you—“

“Dean, I’m fine, really,” you said. The last thing you wanted was your brothers looking in too deep to why your powers seemed to be failing. You would look weak.

“Her powers aren’t anything physical,” Cas said. “If they’re not working correctly, she either mispronounced the spell, or she’s not in the correct mental state to perform magic.”

“Cas.” You wanted to interrupt him, but it was too late.

“Y/N.” Dean stepped closer to you, and you ducked your head to avoid his gaze. “Sweetheart what’s he talking about?”

“I’m fine.” Your voice came out small and timid.

“Y/N, talk to me.” Sam stepped forwards.

You shook your head, blinking hard and fast in a failed attempt to keep the tears at bay. Your hand unconsciously sought out something to hold onto, and your fingers clamped onto Cas’s trench coat.

“Are you alright?” Cas’s gentle voice was the only invitation you needed, and you practically flung yourself into his arms, burying your face against his shirt as your tears began to fall. Cas froze for a moment, unsure of what to do, but slowly he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against him.

“It’s alright,” he soothed. “It’s ok, I’ve got you little one.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” you sobbed, clutching onto Cas like a life preserver. “I-I miss Gabriel. And-and Joe and Ellen, and my-and my dad.”

“I know,” Cas sighed. “I know, it’s ok.”

“I didn’t mean for it to mess up the hunt.”

“It’s not your fault,” Cas promised. “You’re allowed to feel like this. It’s ok to feel sad, it’s ok.”

“Maybe we should take her home,” Sam cut in.

“Don’t go.” Cas’s heart constricted at your whimpered plea as you held on even tighter to him.

“I won’t,” he whispered to you before looking at Sam. “Go on, I’ve got her.” With that, Cas disappeared with you.

You jumped in surprise when you arrived suddenly in your room.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“I’m ok,” you sniffled, still unwilling to let go of Cas.

“Ok.” Cas smiled. “Would you like to lay down?”

You nodded, and Cas led you over to your bed and let you lean on top of him after he laid down.

“I’m sorry,” you said finally, your throat constricting as the tears returned.

“Don’t ever apologize for what you’re feeling,” Cas said, wrapping his arms around you. “You can let it out now, you don’t have to hide it.”

“I just don’t want Sam and Dean to think I can’t do this,” you cried.

“You can trust them. You don’t have to be alone with this, you never do.”

You didn’t respond, and Cas didn’t push it. He held you in his arms and you finally let out your years upon years of tears that you hadn’t let yourself cry before. Eventually you fell asleep, and still Cas didn’t move.

Most times when he was needed, it was so he could heal your or your brothers physically, and that was easy for him. This was much harder; he wasn’t well versed in human emotion, and he wasn’t all that sure that he was helping you correctly, but he sensed that his presence was all you needed.

So here he would stay.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

#dean winchester #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #castiel & winchester!reader #castiel & reader #castiel x winchester!reader #castiel x reader #spn castiel #castiel novak #castiel

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slytherheign · 8 months

Text

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS | daniel ricciardo

PART 4/4 OF BROKEN GLASS AND HONEY SERIES.

CAN ALSO BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT.

PAIRINGS: ex!daniel ricciardo x fem!reader, max verstappen x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

SUMMARY: sometimes you just don’t know the answer until someone’s on their knees and asks you.

WARNINGS: rejection, false hope, infatuation, feelings of hurt and overwhelming pain. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 16+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. we have reached the end of the series! sorry if i hurt some of you emotionally. btw, there are a lot of references to the previous parts in this.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

Rejection.

A word that carried so much weight in matters of the heart. It hit him with a force he never saw coming, leaving him breathless, bewildered, and questioning every decision he had made.

The pain of rejection cut deep, undermining the confidence he once had, and casting shadows over the hopes and dreams he dared to envision.

Rejected.

Rejected from McLaren.

Rejected from a Red Bull seat.

And now, he was rejected once again.

In an instant, his world felt shattered, and he questioned just how worthy he truly was of love and affection.

He poured his heart out, baring his soul in that vulnerable moment when he knelt with one knee. He thought you had shared something meaningful, a connection that was genuine and real.

He thought it would be enough.

Daniel’s car traveled home with one less person inside that night. But even if he was already in his garage, he refused to step out of his car. He stayed so he could sit there in his hurt.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil within him.

It was hard, almost impossible, not to take it personally, to wonder what could have gone wrong. Was it something he said? Something he did? Or perhaps it was simply a matter of timing and circumstance, beyond his control.

He ran his hand through his hair, his face reflecting a mixture of frustration and resignation.

He could say that he longed for clarity, a glimpse into your thoughts and reasons, but that would be a lie. Because in all honesty, he kind of saw it coming.

He wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that you picked Max or the fact that there was a part of him that always knew you would pick Max.

Why did he even try?

Oh, right.

Hope.

Because of hope.

He tried because you showed him hope.

You showed him hope—a glimmer of light that he hadn't seen in ages. Life had become monotonous, blending into an array of muted gray, until you came along. Your entry into his life was like a vibrant burst of color, injecting new life into his weary soul. He dared to hope, to believe that he had found something extraordinary.

It was a peculiar feeling. To be caught between longing and despair, to have his heart both soar and shatter within the same breath. The intoxicating aura of love was both a beacon of hope and a cruel illusion, and he found himself entangled in that painful paradox.

With a final deep breath, he left his car, ready to face his family who were staying in his home just for this special night. He told his family for a reason, he just couldn’t keep it in.

But now he wished he didn’t.

Cheer and applause were what met him when he entered the door. His family had huge smiles plastered on their faces, clearly excited about the news they were expecting.

Until it stopped.

It all stopped when his lips trembled, trying to fake a smile.

It all stopped when they saw the tears on his face.

They didn’t even need to ask what happened. They already knew.

His sister splashed out the bottle of Dom Perignon, but no one was celebrating.

"She would've made such a lovely bride. What a shame she's fucked in the head," his father said. His mom’s ring was still in his pocket, and your picture was still in his wallet. But love…

Love slipped beyond his reaches.

There was nothing to celebrate.

Max was walking you home, still holding the umbrella to protect you from the rain. Neither of you spoke and neither of you really cared. Max knew, from the way your lips shook, eyes cried, and the whimpers that left your mouth, that you did not want to speak at that moment. He respected and understood that.

He was more understanding now than he was before.

You were speechless. Your mouth could not utter a single word, but your mind made up for it by clouding itself with overwhelming thoughts.

You remembered that one night when fate played a part in your first meeting with Daniel.

That night, he asked you to dance and you refused. You refused because you knew he was asking you to dance to a song of love and new beginnings.

But after a single conversation, it was you who asked him if he was still willing to dance.

You always knew that dancing was a dangerous game. But that night, you started it when you offered your hand to Daniel.

The dance continued.

But now, you dropped his dance while dancing. Left him out there, crestfallen on the landing with your champagne problems.

One for the money.

Two for the show.

You never were ready.

So, you let him go.

And you left him alone.

You just didn’t know the answer until he was already on his knees and asked you.

You couldn’t even give him a reason.

His proposal should have brought you joy, excitement, and a feeling of being cherished. But instead, you had found yourself struggling, torn between the present and the ghosts of your past.

The same exact past that was walking beside you right now.

It was not that Daniel wasn't kind or loving, he truly was. He possessed all the qualities one could desire in a partner. But your heart lingered elsewhere.

There was someone before him. Someone who awoken a flame within you, a love so fierce and profound that it felt like it could withstand anything. And then, life happened, and you drifted apart, your paths diverging towards separate horizons.

But even as the seasons changed, and new opportunities came knocking at your door, that love never truly left you. It remained etched in the deepest recesses of your being, an indelible mark upon your soul.

Accepting his proposal would have been a betrayal, not only to him, but to yourself as well. It was a painful decision to make, but you owed it to yourself and to him, to be honest and not settle for anything less than a love that was pure. For one can only truly give their heart to another when they are whole themselves.

His heart was glass and you dropped it.

You didn’t even notice you reached your apartment until Max opened the door for you. He sat you down on your couch, before leaving you for a moment to heat some water and prepare a bath for you.

He went back right after, crouching in front of you so he could see your face. You were looking down, still crying. He placed a finger under your chin, moving it upwards so you could face him. And then he fixed the wet hair that covered your face, wiped your tears, and kissed your forehead.

The heart wants what it wants, and yours was still beating in an unbreakable rhythm alongside the person in front of you—Max.

You suddenly recalled what Daniel told you before, when he told you an advice his father gave him and then he explained it.

“Time matters, yes. But the length is subjective. Love is not supposed to be a competition where time is the sole judge. Sometimes, longer doesn’t mean healthier, and shorter doesn’t make it insincere or artificial.”

He said that love was not supposed to be a competition. And he was not wrong about that.

It wasn’t a competition because it never was a competition in the first place.

You loved Daniel, but you were in love with Max.

It was always Max.

He poured his heart into that proposal, believing that you were the one. He had envisioned a future together with you, filled with love, laughter, and shared dreams. But perhaps fate had different plans in store for him. And though it stung him, he must pick up the pieces and keep moving forward.

His heart ached now. Those promises whispered in the darkest hours, the dreams woven with tender hands, they all shimmered with the possibility of a love that transcended boundaries. He clung to those words, as fragile as glass, praying that they would withstand the test of time.

Yet, here he was, lost in a labyrinth of broken dreams. The reality bit bitterly, gnawing at the frayed edges of his shattered heart. False hope, they called it. A cruel game of chance that you unwittingly roped him into. He knew, deep down, that you didn't do it intentionally. And that knowledge is what steeped his sorrow in a pot of bittersweet brew.

Because despite the pain that seared through his veins, he couldn't summon an ember of anger towards you. Love had a way of blinding people to the faults of those we held dearest. And so, he found himself teetering on the precipice of resentment and forgiveness, unable to fully commit to either.

It was a lonely place to be trapped in, the emotional escape room in his heart that didn't have an escape. The echoes of once-hopeful conversations reverberated through the hollow chambers of his mind, each word etching deeper into his wounded heart.

Though the pain felt overwhelming now, Daniel knew that time would heal his wounds. It may take days, weeks, or even months, but he would pick up the pieces, rebuild his shattered heart, and learn to love again.

NETHERLANDS. AUGUST 25, 2024.

Daniel was running down the paddock, planning to head to the pitlane when a curious photographer stopped him to ask a question.

“Sorry for asking this, but I think I speak for all of us,” the photographer pointed to the fans behind him who were clearly recording this exact moment. They cheered the moment Daniel looked at them and he smiled. “When I say we are all curious about what really is your relationship with Y/N?” the photographer continued.

He chuckled. “Why did you want to know that?”

“Well, she hasn’t been beside you for months and then we just saw her with Max hours ago before you came.”

He could only smile, a genuine one.

“Y/N and I are friends, really close friends like what we’ve always been.”

“Really? Some of us thought you were dating because she was seen a lot with you before,” a fan shouted.

He laughed.

They didn’t need to know.

“What? I can’t have a female friend now?” he joked.

“Now that I’m thinking about it… you never launched anything,” the photographer mentioned.

Right. Even after dating you for months, you didn’t want to be affectionate with him in public. That was another telltale sign he chose to ignore. That was the reason he decided to propose in just under 6 months of being in a relationship with you. It was because he was in a rush, he thought that if you became engaged, you would finally let him tell the world about the two of you.

Now that he thought about it, maybe what he had was just an infatuation. An infatuation so intense that it hurt like the real thing. Maybe for so long, he just wanted to feel something and you came along at the right time. He didn’t even know anymore. And he didn’t want to know. It was all in the past.

“That’s right,” Daniel nodded. “Because we have nothing to launch.”

Just as he said that, you and Max entered his view. You two were holding hands and Max was laughing at something you said.

Daniel smiled.

“Look at them,” he gestured to you and Max, the photographer and the fans looked at who he was pointing to. “Max and her are literally meant for each other.”

“I’ve never seen Max laugh like that before,” the photographer said.

“Well, Y/N is the only one who could make him laugh like that if we’re being honest,” he chuckled again. “They make a great couple, they make each other so happy. And I’m happy for them,” he said.

Love wasn't a dead-end road; it was a winding path, full of twists and turns. Rejection was a part of that journey. For deep within, beyond the realms of rejection, dwelled a longing for love that refused to extinguish. He believed there was someone out there, someone who was meant to be for him, just as you were meant to be with Max.

There was one more thing Daniel always believed in other than taking chances.

It was that everything happens for a reason.

You and Max caught his eyes. Max nodded at him, he nodded back.

If he could turn back time, he wouldn't change a thing.

He may not have found the love of his life, but he did find another best friend.

He smiled at both of you, and you returned his smile.

You both knew Daniel would find the real thing instead.

She would patch up the tapestry that you shred.

And he wouldn’t even remember all your champagne problems.

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madeholyy · 11 months

Text

chase the moon like fire ; leon kennedy / reader

and i'm just a stupid motherfucker, can't figure it out

[falling in love, brief mention of masturbation, slight sexual tension]

please consider supporting my ao3!

“So, you in love?” It’s a question, but the answer isn’t so simple. Ada’s voice is velvety smooth and articulate in the way she speaks. It used to send a shiver down his spine when he heard it, but now it only served as a haunting tune. He leveled his gaze with her; eyebrows furrowed with skepticism. Though in his head he was digging deep down into his memories attempting to pinpoint the truth to her inquiry. She has been watching them for some time during their mission. Ada was ever the observant type and always knew exactly how to read him no matter how guarded he was. Leon thought back— way back, in fact— to the first time he laid eyes on you. Circa 2003, partnered for an infiltration mission on a small lab in Italy that ex-Umbrella employees created to continue their research.

There was something daring in your smile, but your eyes were kind and warm. With all the experience of a federal agent, you were still a girl. There was a gentle sweet scent that followed you as you walked past him through the office and you were always excited to show him your nails even if there was a chance you’d have to remove them before a surprise mission. You were a witness to unimaginable horrors beyond your comprehension, but sunshine followed you in your wake regardless. All the pink, sparkly pens and cute animal charms on your bag were an effort to live in normalcy. You were overcompensating, but so was he in a way.

There was a particular late night in the office where he caught his first glimpse into the person truly you.

“What were you going to be before all this?” Leon narrowed his eyes towards you across his desk. Your head was being supported by your hands while you tilted your head awaiting his answer.

Leon’s attention reverted back to the paperwork on his desk, “Just a cop.”

“Just a cop, hm?” It was playful and syrupy; almost childish, yet endearing all the same. He feigned disinterest, but you didn’t miss the amused tinkle in his eyes.

“Don’t you have your own desk?” He inquired with his gaze still to his documents.

“Yeah, but we’re the only two people still in the office. I wanted company.” You leaned back in your seat, stretching out your shoulders with a few minor pops.

“Who’s to say I wanted company?” Leon looked up at you and you almost missed the smile ghosting his lips.

“Well, I thought about that, but I didn’t actually care.” You shrugged your shoulders and leaned forward once more to skim through your report. Leon took a moment to study your face. You weren’t exactly the kind of person he would’ve guessed was an agent. He had met many women in this line of work and you reminded him of a few. Chris at one point even mentioned how you had this gentle warmth to you that Rebecca also had. And there were stars in your eyes glimmering against the light of his desk lamp. He wondered how much you bottled up within you and the sheer weight you carried on your heart. He was much more hardened than you with skills outside of your own experience.

Leon signed, “What did you want to be?” He would play along.

Your face lit up, eyes perking up underneath dark lashes. His question was met with a moment of silence while you pondered over it.

“I wanted to be…” Her voice drifted off to somewhere far from them. She stared down at her pen, mindlessly clicking the tip in and out as she tapped the butt of his repeatedly against the surface of his desk. Then something unfamiliar to him. It was hardly noticeable and easy to dismiss, but he caught a hint of something melancholic flashing in her eyes. The sparkle in them he found comforting dulled the slightest bit. Your lips pursed in deep thought. You weren’t easy to read, actually, quite the opposite. Your cheerful demeanor was well crafted from years of hardship. He hadn’t taken note of it before but there was tension in your shoulders that always seemed to exist. Fidgeting was a usual occurrence for you as well and he caught you tapping your foot or messing with your earrings several times throughout the day. Coworkers remarked on how you seemed lost in the clouds with that dreamy expression glossing over your eyes, but he began to question the contents of said daydreams. He often found himself with the same look whenever he got lost in a fantasy of saving all that was lost those few years ago. All the things he would do differently, the things he didn’t do that he would in a heartbeat now. And it hit him like a train that you were just as haunted.

“You don’t have to answer.” It sounded a bit more timid than he intended, cracking into a sort of whisper towards the tail end of his sentence as if he was unsure that was the correct thing to say.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I wanted to do so many things, but I don’t think they were in my cards. Maybe…something with animals?” You leaned back once more and slapped your palms down onto the hardwood desk, “I’d take barista over this, too, though.”

His response was awkward and lacklust in emotion with a simple hum of acknowledgement. Your cheeks were lightly dusted pink which he figured was probably because it was a little warm in the office. But, you also revoked eye contact and focused on anything but his face.

“Didn’t plan your future? Thought girls loved that stuff.” He huffed a minor laugh, getting back to writing his report. It was just an update on his current case before he would be sent to the field for investigation. This portion required some work with Hunnigan and recanting all she’d relay to him.

“What a weird thing to say…” You murmured, “I just didn’t plan further than eighteen.”

His gaze lifted to your face and there was a brief dark look in your eyes. It was as quick as lightning, flashing in and out before he even had time to register it. Leon did not know whether to ask you to elaborate or leave it be. You didn’t give him a chance before you stood up with your own paperwork stuffed snug in a manila folder. Your voice filled the silence once more before you slipped out his doorway, “Girls love a lot of things, Leon. But none of it is universal.”

Then you disappeared in the dark corridor. Usually his strange, oddly forward comments were ignored. He wouldn’t even register anything he said as strange until after by someone else. Maybe that had become one of his favorite things about you; the way you voiced your distaste for his dumb little jokes and awkward assumptions. It wasn’t malicious, it was amusing to you, too, but you weren’t afraid. His status didn’t intimidate you. Nothing about him made you uneasy. You just thought he was weird and he liked it.

“That’s the way you wanna end our conversation, Ada?” He dodged answering with ease, but Ada’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. He couldn’t hide the truth from her. The mere mention of your name lit a flame behind his eyes that she had thought long snuffed out. It was the same flame he used to admire her with back in Raccoon City. Underneath that hardened facade was the same young man she encountered beneath the RPD. The years had changed them, but not significantly. She was ever married to her job and he will always be full of light and love despite it all.

“I’m only being friendly, no need to be defensive. Though, it does say more about you than me.” Her smirk was slight, barely there, but Leon tensed the slightest bit. She walked until her back was turned to him, facing the window while she pulled out her grappling hook.

“She gave me that same look.” Was the last thing she said before she disappeared above, leaving the curtains flapping in the winds behind her. Leon picked up his gun and studied it, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Leon.”

He jumped, turning his head slightly to look at you, “Thought you’d be here.”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Leon admired the maroon slip dress you adorned and paired with black ankle strap block heels. Your hair was delicately styled just as he expected with beautiful hoop earrings hanging by your lobes. He turned to look out the balcony with a glass of whiskey on ice in his hand. You joined him by the railing leaning against it and admiring the way the stars painted the sky. The moon was nowhere to be found and awaiting its bloomage that would soon begin once more. Leon glanced at your hands— coffin shaped nails with an elegant floral design and matte finish. He had thoughts about them before, how they’d feel running down his back and scratching his scalp. They’d creep up on him most nights after bidding you farewell. He was quick to shake them away, but here they were enticing him once more.

“And I didn’t think I’d see you here. Don’t seem like a banquet type of guy.” Which you were correct. He nearly skipped out this evening, but then he overheard your excited chatter about an evening dressed out and seeing your workplace friends. It was a calculated move on gaining your attention for the night. Something he craved frequently from you; more frequently than he was comfortable with. Leon knew why, but he refused admittance.

“Eh, I was asked which basically means it’s an expectation.” Technically not a lie, but he did have a choice. That choice was just null when he learned of your attendance.

“Wow, must be rough being the President’s favorite.” You giggled, a sound which caused his heart to leap. It was an enchanting melody he wished to relive over and over again if possible.

“You have no idea…” Leon tipped his cup to his lips, taking a sip from his beverage.

“Leon, you look tired.” You quipped, turning your body slightly to face him. He nearly choked on his drink at your sudden statement.

“I look like this all the time.” He scoffed, nodding his drink in your direction.

You roll your eyes and press your lips into a firm line, “Even worse than usual. Have you been sleeping?”

He was still. It was coming up to the anniversary of the Raccoon City incident and many of his recent nights were sleepless. Sleepless nights meant he had room to think then overnight then silently seethe. The anger he held towards himself was impalpable. Some evenings he couldn’t decide if he should punch his wall or quietly weep into his pillow. Then there were nights where he just wanted his mind off it all. He wanted some moments of peace and images of you crossed his brain. Some sultry, some average. All brought him to a climax where his head turned to mush.

“I don’t get much this time of year. Must be the weather.” He mumbled, sipping his whiskey again.

You tilt your head slightly with furrowed brows. He didn’t want to look at you because if he did he would kiss you if it meant you stopped looking at him the way you were. Looking at him like he was worth more than his failures, like he deserved more. It would cause his chest to ache and his knees to go weak. He’d have to capture your lips in his, but that was a risk. A risk that led to a risk. It was all too much. However, in his peripherals, you held your eyes on him. He could make out the way the balcony wall lamp reflected light off your glossy lips; the iridescent shimmer sparkling against warm tones. And your lashes, oh your lashes, dark and long with fluttering like butterfly wings with every blink. They highlighted your eyes, creating an alluring appeal to them. You were breathtaking in ways words could not describe. Aphrodite had blessed you, surely.

“Yeah, the weather.” Was your only response as you looked away from him and gazed down at the neatly trimmed garden hedges below. He wanted you to look at him again, but that’d be yet another risk. One he wasn’t prepared of the consequences for still. Perhaps the moon hid tonight because her beauty could not compare to yours. She shied behind Earth’s shadow because there was no competition to be had. You outshined all the stars in the sky with a glimpse of your goddesshood. His fingertips itched to caress the supple flesh of your rosy cheeks. Leon wished to place soft kisses along your neck and hear the sighs which you emanate from your throat.

But he didn’t. You both remain on the balcony in a comfortable silence. That night, Leon had to admit something he wasn’t ready to. The glaringly obvious truth he wanted not a single soul to unveil. It was a secret of his own, one he held near and dear to his heart.

“You never answered my question.” Ada glanced back at him expectantly. If it were not for her firm, booming voice above the helicopter, he would have easily missed it. Leon found himself voiceless once more, but only for a mere moment. He watched her study him and he knew there was no use denying it any longer. So, you in love?

He wanted to laugh. Of course she would be the one to call him out for it. Ada was nothing but skilled in the art of deduction. His thoughts briefly flashback to Ashley. You had probably gone up to meet her already to check on her wellbeing. Then he turned his attention back to the topic at hand. She didn’t want to have to guess, she wanted to hear it.

“More than I’d like to admit.” He called out, stepping back slightly in preparation for his trek back to his two companions. Ada’s expression was unmoving and unreadable. She simply held eye contact for a few seconds before making her way to her escape. He didn’t say it, but she heard it under his tone. And I’m scared.

#leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil oneshot #leon kennedy fanfic #my works

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 9 months

Text

Love and The Lack of Ass (modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aegon expresses his feelings over your very apparent thirst for Miguel O’Hara in the most Aegon way possible: sulking.

Warnings: Nothing of note, except for excessive thirsting over Miguel O’Hara

Word Count: 1.6K

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: You guys deserve something fluffy after my last Aemond one shot 💗 also, I’m thinking of writing some HOTD one shots based off different Barbie movies. Would anyone be up for that?

The sound of footsteps on tiles and laughter echoed throughout the otherwise silent apartment block. “Okay, I gotta admit,” Aegon said, while teetering under the weight of two Hawaiian pizza boxes, a few boxes of chicken wings and fries, and some bottles of beer they bought from the convenience store, as you fumbled for the keys in your bag. “That it was a pretty kick ass movie. Although I still prefer the other Spiderman movies.”

You gasp, kicking open the door to your apartment, “Aegon I don’t know what your middle name is Targaryen, you take that back right now.”

“Middle name is Sexyman, gorgeous,” Aegon winked, although he shrieked and quickly ran inside the apartment the both of you shared when you began whacking him with your bag. “This is assault, and I’m calling my lawyer!” Aegon called across his shoulder as he sat down the bags that he was carrying on your dining table.

“Well, I’m telling your lawyer you deserved it,” you declared, crossing your arms as you gave him a vicious glare. Sunfyre, Aegon’s large goldendoodle, sniffed eagerly at the delicious smell emanating from the pizza and chicken wings, but Aegon shooed him away. “How dare you say that Tom Holland’s Spiderman movies are better than the Spiderverse movies? I ought to break up with you.”

“Hey, I have a man crush on Jake Gyllenhaal, alright? Can you not shame me for my sexual preferences?” Aegon huffed, but he backed away squealing when you tried to jab him in the ribs. Sunfyre barked excitedly and leaped at Aegon, seeming to think it was a new game. “Woman! Now you’ve turned my dog against me too?! What kind of world is this?”

“A very fair one,” you said smugly, reaching to scratch Sunfyre behind the ears. “You see, even your dog is telling you you have bad taste.”

“Hey, don’t act like you didn’t like this movie solely because of Miguel O’Hara,” Aegon protested, backing away to their bedroom for safety purposes. “Who are you to judge me for my man crush?”

“That’s because Jake Gyllenhaal is an awful piece of trash who groomed Taylor Swift,” you huffed. “And can you blame me? Miguel O’Hara is so-” you mimed swooning from all the hotness as Aegon rolled his eyes. “Like goddamn, take one look at his strong, hulking build and tell me you don’t feel things!” you demanded. Aegon rolled his eyes again, with such strength it was a wonder they didn’t tumble to another dimension. “Sorry, love, I’m not into muscles.”

“Well, I am,” you declared, hands on your hips. “And don’t even get me started on his asscheeks. Boy if I could-”

“LA LA LA LA CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Aegon yelled, stuffing his fingers into his ears as he made a swift retreat to your bedroom. Sighing in relief as he shut the door to your bedroom, he quickly changed out of his leather jacket and white shirt into a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and flexed, smirking at his own reflection. Damn, I’m hot, he thought to himself, turning to get a glimpse of his side angle. But his smirk faded into a frown as he examined his reflection to look at his own…well, rather flat, behind. Remembering your earlier comments about liking men with muscles, he tried flexing his arms, but they seemed quite pathetic in comparison to Miguel O’Hara’s.

He felt annoyance beginning to rise in him, ‘Damn it, I’m Aegon Targaryen, the hottest guy in King’s Landing University! Every single guy wishes they could be me! How am I getting insecure over some 2D character?’ But then he heard you squealing from the living room while being on a phonecall, no doubt with one of your friends, “I KNOW RIGHT! Miguel is LITERALLY my dream man. I mean, take one look at those muscles and that ass and my god did you see his fangs-”

Unable to hear anymore, Aegon flung open the door to your bedroom, dramatically stomping to your living room, and curled up on the couch, pouting as he turned on the TV. You frowned a little as you moved around your kitchen, laying out your dinner while you reheated the pizza in the oven. Your best friend, Baela, was still babbling in your ear about the Spiderverse movie, specifically about some very explicit things she would like to do to Miguel O’Hara and Spider-Gwen, but you were no longer paying attention.

“Baela, babe, I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You hung up, just as the oven emitted a ‘ping!’, signalling that the pizza was done. But that could wait. You made your way to your couch, catching sight of Aegon curling up on the couch, a cushion in his arms and a pout on his face as he browsed through the selections on your streaming channel. You nearly giggled at how adorable he was. Was he bothered by your earlier thirsty comments about Miguel? You knew how sensitive your boyfriend could be at times. Suddenly, a lightbulb shone in your head, and you grinned maliciously to yourself as a plan began to hatch in your brain.

Aegon yelped when a figure leaped onto him, dropping the remote on the floor with a loud clatter. Sunfyre came up to the couch, barking excitedly, as Aegon tried kicking at his girlfriend, though in vain. “Woman! What are you doing?!”

“Showering you with my love, of course,” you declared, as you planted loud kisses on Aegon’s face. Laughing and somewhat screaming, Aegon tried to wrestle back control so he was on top again, but you weren’t letting that happen, not on your watch. “Are you upset about my earlier comments about Miguel?” Aegon immediately stopped struggling, instead pushing his girlfriend away and scooching to the far end of the couch, resuming his despondent pouting. You wanted to let out an “awww” at how cute your boyfriend was acting, but you knew now was not the time.

Aegon felt arms wrap around him and soft kisses on his neck, but he didn’t budge as he continued to turn his head away and pout. “Why don’t you go and find muscular Miguel instead? He would be better to cuddle with than me,” Aegon grumbled. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Aegon’s blatant display of jealousy. “Oh, my love, you know that it was all just talk right? You’re still the one I love most,” you teased, running a hand through his gorgeous white blonde hair. “It doesn’t really seem like it,” Aegon grouched.

You were about to make a snarky comment, but you caught the faintest hint of hurt in his voice, and your expression softened. Aegon might seem childish, but after being his girlfriend for nearly two years, you were sensitive to his every mood change, and how insecure he could be despite his cocky, confident front. You knew Aegon had a rocky childhood and struggled with the concept of commitment and love, and his fears of you leaving him when you decided you had enough of him one day. Biting your bottom softly, you moved to embrace him, resting your head on his shoulder as you spoke sweetly, “Aegon…you know you’ll forever be the only one for me right? Even though I behave like a horny, thirsty teenager sometimes, I want you to know, I love you the way you are. And Miguel O’Hara’s muscles will never get in the way of that.”

Aegon was quiet for a while, and you were worried that he was really hurt this time, but then he mumbled, “...even if I don’t have any asscheeks?” You laughed, tilting his head to face yours again, and your heart melted at the sight of his soulful purple eyes. “Yes, even if you don’t have any asscheeks. I’m not that fond of big butts anyway, yours is just nice.”

Aegon brightened immediately, abruptly leaning in to kiss you. The both of you made out on your couch for a while, tangling your hands in each other’s hair and moaning quietly. You were interrupted however, by Sunfyre’s bark and him scrambling on the couch to get it on the “group cuddle”.

“Damn, can’t a man not be cockblocked by his pooch for a moment?” Aegon grumbled as you both broke away from your kiss, grinning breathlessly at each other. Sunfyre stood on his hind paws to try and climb over you to Aegon’s lap, and you chuckled, “Apparently not. I think he’s telling us he’s hungry.”

“Yes, for my attention,” Aegon said smugly as Sunfyre successfully managed to clamber over you and into Aegon’s lap. He scratched Sunfyre behind his ears and smiled, forgetting why he was even upset in the first place. “Looks like you’re not that unhappy anymore,” you noted with a smile. Aegon immediately tried to look pouty again, though since his heart was not in it anymore it just made him look impish instead of mournful. “Noooo that’s not true, I’m still in need of comfort. And a kiss,” he tried to move in for a kiss again, but you flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!” he cried out indignantly, but you soothed his complaints by leaning in to plant a quick peck on his cheek. “Let’s have dinner first, then you can have all the kisses you want in bed later.” Aegon grinned, and moved to shove Sunfyre off his lap, ignoring the large dog’s whine. “I’ll hold you to that, my love!” he called out as he bounded over to the kitchen to take the pizza out of the oven.

You chuckled as you followed after him, Sunfyre begging at your feet for scraps. Screw Miguel and his muscles, who needs him when you have your own loveable little dork right here?

can someone tell me what level of thirst is considered unhealthy because i don’t think me and my friends know anymore.

as always, let me know how you thought of this one shot in the comments and through reblogs! if you wish to be added to an aegon taglist, or any taglist for other HOTD characters, do comment down below! thank you for reading! 💗

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velvetcloxds · 2 years

Text

MUNDANE MORNINGS | C.S.

pairing: charlie swan x fem!reader

word count: 0.8k

warnings: the cheese is fresh, besties

summary: just some early morning domesticity before charlie goes to work

“I packed you something for lunch,” you noted before taking a large sip from your coffee, placing the cup down just loud enough for the sound to hum about the quiet little room, melting away amongst the soft singing of the birds outside as you went back to buttering your muffin.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Charlie breathed from behind his newspaper, peaking around the corner when he heard you scoff at him, a teasing sound, one that declared to him that you knew him too well for his own good.

“I also didn’t need to make you breakfast,” you informed him, taking a slow bite from the piece of cheese you’d cut for your muffin before smiling teasingly at the man across from you, who was now very much interested in what you’d say next. “But heaven knows what you’d eat if I didn’t,” you shrugged and he scoffed in reply, knowing you were right, of course, but he’d not dare admit that out loud.

“I’ll have you know that I ate perfectly fine before you came along,” he argued, taking a bite of his toast and crunching away, watching your soft eyes take in the little action, hoping he was enjoying the new jam you’d brought for him at the farmer’s market over the weekend, knowing he did.

“Good?” you prompted, and he nodded too eagerly to stay on point, smiling in defeat when you giggled lightly. “I put some on your muffin for lunch too.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he concurred and he could hardly believe how natural the whole exchange felt, seeing you in his dress shirt, sitting cross-legged on his dining room chair getting all excited over making him lunch and buying him special things you knew he loved but wouldn’t fuss to get- it was as if you were perfectly in place, his place, his home- he couldn’t even remember what mornings were like without you and he was ever grateful that he might not have to experience them again in the near future.

“You’re welcome, bear,” you shrugged again, allowing yourself to get lost in thought as you sipped at the last bit of your coffee, not knowing that Charlie was appreciating the little moments you spent together in the mornings just as much as you were.

“Can I help clean up before I go?” he asked, forcing you to pay attention with an almost shy smile, folding his newspaper into a crooked square and standing up to get his jacket when you shook your head. “How about we cook together tonight?”

“You’ll be home early?”

“I’m going to try my hardest,” he immediately picked up on the excitement you were trying your very hardest to hide, jumping up from the table to bring his lunch over to him, not even thinking before helping him with the collar of his jacket. “You going to stay here for the day?”

“Would that be okay?”

“More than okay,” he shrugged and before he knew it you were busy again, fingers moving quickly to fix his tie, and then his badge and you were just about to slip a hand into his hair when he caught you. “If you’re done fussing, can you give your old man a kiss?”

“I’m not fussing,” you argued, rolling your eyes as you pecked his lips, trying to pull away but not standing a chance as his grip on your waist held you in place, a few more kisses being stolen before he breathed out lowly.

“You’re fussing,” he confirmed with a little wink before letting you go, taking the brown bag from your fingers before walking to the door, turning back to get a glimpse of the dazed little stare he was sure to see. “See you tonight.”

“See you tonight,” you mimicked, and Charlie lingered, hand on the door but making no move to try and leave, in a daze of his own as he daringly looked you over once again, having to convince himself to leave when a sight so perfect was right there waiting for him. “Go,” you giggled, kissing his bicep in the process of gently shoving him out the door, watching from the doorway as he walked slowly to his car, mumbling to himself.

You stood there in a dreamlike state, swaying from your heels to your toes, holding your breath as he drove away and with one last wave you released a content sigh.

twilight taglist: @mirclealignr @saintlike78 @cupids-crystals @a-lil-bit-nuts @scarlet-prey @chaoticgirl04

#charlie swan #charlie swan x reader #charlie swan x you #charlie swan x yn #charlie swan x y/n #charlie swan fluff #charlie swan fic #charlie swan fanfic #charlie swan fanfiction #charlie swan one shot #charlie swan imagine #charlie swan blurb #charlie swan drabble #twilight #twilight fic #twilight fanfic #twilight fanfiction

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spookychick78 · 1 year

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OG Michael Myers One Shot

Okay so hear me out. Michael Myers X Vampire but make it sexy.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, knife play, blood play, choking, biting, rough sex etc.

Word Count: 3,536

Something seemed off in his home that night. He stood in the foyer, knife in hand as he listened. There was no audible sound to give away the other presence that had hidden itself there, no shaky breath, no heartbeat. Yet, in the silence he knew he wasn't alone. He could feel it. His eyes moved up the stairs as he tilted his head. Though their stealth thus far was impressive, whoever it was couldn't hide forever. This was his home and he knew it better than any trespasser could hope to. Nowhere they chose to hide would keep them safe for long if he decided to come looking, but Michael wasn't one to play games. Unless of course, they were his own. He made the rules, especially here. He would wait, he could be patient. They'd reveal themselves sooner or later be it out of desperation, false sense of security, or just plain boredom. He wouldn't give them a choice. He would make them come to him. Yeah, he would win this game. After all, he always did.

Just as a contented smirk started to pull at his hidden lips, movement came from the shadows beside him. He slowly turned his head to see a woman step out of the darkness. She had an arrogance about her he didn't quite understand. The knife in his hand nor the mask on his face did little to scare away the cocky smile that spread across her face as she studied him.

"Hello Michael," she said softly.

He narrowed his eyes at her under his mask. The air about her suggested she thought she had the upper hand. How silly. He lunged forward and his hand went for her throat, but she caught his fist in her palm before he even had the chance to unravel his fingers. He strained against her, waiting for her arm to break from the pressure he applied, but she stayed unmoving. His strength didn't seem to phase her, she was as still as ever.

"So eager to end our game already?" She asked calmly as her hand gripped tighter around his own, "I thought you liked to play."

He wouldn't give in. He gritted his teeth to hold back the pained groan that threatened to escape his lips, anymore pressure and he was sure she would break bones. Still, he held firm in his stance and pushed back against her. He wasn't unaware of the ice cold feel of her skin either, it left quite a sting. She let out a quiet laugh at his unmatched determination. She knew this would be fun.

"I've been watching you, Michael," she whispered as she craned her neck up to get a glimpse of his eyes through that pale mask, "for quite some time."

Her gaze was so fixed on his eyes it almost made him uncomfortable. No one had ever dared look as long as she was, that is if they ever got close enough. Her wanton curiosity both infuriated and intrigued him at the same time. What knowledge had she gained whilst watching him and more importantly, why had she been watching him? She could tell he was growing curious, which was exactly what she wanted. She let her grip loosen and he took his opportunity to force her across the room into the wall. She had decided to let him win a little, she knew him well enough to know it was something he needed to keep his interest. She felt the tip of his knife at her naval, almost begging to break skin, but he kept it from entering. His other hand gripped her throat dangerously tight, but it mattered not. He could squeeze harder if he wanted to, she had no use for breath.

"Don't be shy," she said as her hands rested over his tight grip on the knife's handle, "do it."

He felt her force the knife forward slowly. Her skin tore around it's sharp tip as she granted it entry. He didn't like that she had taken such control over the situation so he took it back and swiftly. He plunged his knife into her as deep as it could go and what should have been a cry of agony sounded like an expression of pleasure. He tilted his head as he watched her smile when he twisted the blade within her.

"We're not so different, you and I," she started calmly as though the knife in her had no effect, "death means nothing to us and yet, it is the very nature of our existence."

He was growing incredibly frustrated at her elaborate way of aligning herself with him. He pulled his knife out only to plunge it back in again, harder this time. That only seemed to make her laugh.

"You don't seem to understand," she said before she quickly ripped the knife from his hand, "we are not meant to die."

His hand around her throat tightened enough to break bones, but not hers. She grabbed his wrist and without words, requested he release his grip. Naturally, he denied her so she resorted to force. He couldn't fathom that she had the strength to, but she was able to pry his hand from her neck and easily.

"You like death, Michael?" She asked as she brought the blade to her throat, "Then let me introduce her to you."

She dragged the knife sideways slowly along her skin and her blood turned the parts of her visible to him red. For the first time in his life, Michael watched in disbelief. Her throat was open before him and yet she was somehow still alive, looking back at him with a smile. What blew his mind further was that he could tell it wasn't that it didn't hurt her, it did and she liked it. She returned the knife that was now coated in her blood to him.

"You see, we are the same. Only your heart still beats, whereas mine," she said as she took his hand and placed it over her heart.

There was nothing. No unsteady beat to relish in, no quickened breath, just cold skin underneath his palm.

"You defy death in a different way, but we are both death's deliverers," she said as she brought his hand up to her open mouth.

Michael watched with unbridled curiosity as her gums retracted and her incisors grew exponentially. She kept her mouth agape and invited him to explore, just as he had hoped she would. He let his fingers brush over each of them, admiring just how sharp they really were. Just before he pulled away, he cut himself on one. She hummed with pleasure as she tasted his blood on her tongue. He noticed her eyes had changed, they now had an eerie orange glow. His favorite color. She was somehow paler than before, almost ghostly. He could really admire those fangs now that she was smiling again at his taste. She made quite a pretty picture with all that blood still dripping down her. The embodiment of death. Michael didn't realize he was capable of feeling desire, but something about that animalistic hunger in her eyes that his own blood had awakened made him want to explore her further, test her limits. She had no need for a weapon, her own body was that in of itself. He was beyond fascinated, which pleased her. She had him right where she wanted him.

"I've watched you kill and be killed. I've watched you die over and over and yet, your heart keeps beating, your blood keeps pumping. You hunger as I do. I kill to survive, but you," she flashed that eerie smile again as she let out a low laugh, "you don't need blood to live, you simply want it. Well, I want to understand you, Michael, but more than anything, I want to taste an immortal. I want to taste you."

She still held his hand in hers and he could tell the blood that steadily dripped from his finger was driving her to madness. He saw control within his grasp again and he wasn't going to let it go. He pulled his hand away from her and dismay began to spread over her face until he brought it back to her mouth. He ran his finger over her lips, coating them in his blood. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth and her eyes rolled back as she tasted him again. Her hands went up to hold his once more and he allowed her to.

"May I?" She asked softly.

He gave her nothing, but his silence was her green light. She dragged her tongue from his palm to the tip of his index finger, leaving no trace of blood behind. She then took it in her mouth. He felt her open the wound further with one of her teeth before she began to drink. He watched her body relax entirely once she tasted him again, more than before. He tasted different, just as she had expected, sweeter. The small amount he had allotted her satisfied her more than any other she had tasted before. Each drop was bliss and he could see it all over her. That pull he felt was strange, but euphoric all at once. It made him feel light, almost weightless. It gave him a rush unlike any other he had felt before and he let his head fall back as the feeling washed over him. Her eyes flickered open to see his neck was exposed to her. It was becoming incredibly difficult to control her hunger, he simply tasted too good. Then again, she wasn't sure she had to control herself. After all, that was why she sought him out. There was no risk of him dying. He was an endless supply of bliss for her, she just needed him to want her as much as she wanted him.

He could feel her growing needier as she sucked harder than before. He looked back down at her and saw she was watching him. Those orange eyes were filled with lust as they stayed glued to his neck. He smirked behind his mask before he pulled his finger away from her. She hissed at the sudden emptiness he left behind and her brow furrowed. He quickly grabbed her by the throat and pushed her back against the wall. It was his turn to explore her.

She laughed again, "You can't break me, Michael."

He pressed his body against hers with enough force to probably crush any normal being. She was so cold, he could feel her icy skin through his boiler suit, but it brought relief to his increasingly raised body heat. She was bringing sensations to the surface he had never felt before and he knew she was more than aware. She could feel it.

"Is that what you want?" She whispered up at him, "would you like to break me, Michael?"

He responded by squeezing her throat as tight as he could. He wanted to more than she knew and he could tell he wasn't alone in his desire. It felt fitting that he would give himself to death, or perhaps it was death who would give herself to him. The thought was enough to make his breath falter. He wanted those teeth in him again and he wanted her against the wall where she belonged with her cold legs wrapped around him.

"Then break me," she said in an almost hypnotizing tone.

With his other hand he ripped his mask off so he could press his lips to hers. It was almost like kissing stone. She was so cold and firm. Unbreakable. If he was going to have a lover, she would have to be, because Michael knew nothing of self control. At least not when it came to killing, he could only imagine sex would be no different. She didn't ask for his self control, she didn't need it. She was perfectly matched to him, made for him. He wasn't quite sure how such a thing had landed in his grasp, but he wasn't about to let it slip. She was his now, whether she had asked to be or not. She was his to do with just as he pleased. She may have been physically unbreakable, but Michael would find other ways to break her, it was what he was good at and she would love every second of it. One thing was already very much in his control. She had given him that leash to hold without even realizing it.

He felt her clamoring to pull his boiler suit back as her lips wandered from his own and down to his neck. He knew what she was doing, he could feel those sharp teeth grazing his exposed skin and he allowed her to continue until he felt her self control slip. Just before she could sink into him he shoved her back against the wall to remind her that his blood was his to give when, and only when, he chose to. He was in control and he had every intention to make her beg. That was her leash and he held that power in his hands as he always did. She lunged forward again and he only pushed her back harder, so hard the wooden walls of the Myers' house behind her broke. She didn't even flinch, instead she smiled in amusement. It only added to his enthusiasm about the situation. He freed his arms from his boiler suit and promptly tore her blood soaked dress from her body. He watched, amused as she took care of the rest of her clothing. Her body was unlike any other he had seen. Flawless, in his eyes and probably anyone else's if they saw. Though, other eyes were no longer a concern, he would be her only admirer. He noticed the stab wound he had dealt her was missing as if it had never happened. She really would be his plaything.

Once she had discarded the last of the cloth covering her, she was on him again. Her lips met his with more force than before. She was intent on showing him just how strong she really was and he was intent on finding out. He felt her nip at his bottom lip as she kissed him and heard her moan when the smallest bit of blood met her tongue. He lifted her up so she could wrap her now bare legs around him and once he was sure she wouldn't fall, he tangled his fingers in her hair. He yanked her head back so her neck was exposed to him this time. He let his lips brush over her icy skin, then his teeth. He was gentle at first as he peppered kisses along her jugular, then he began to experiment. He nipped at her and relished in those pained hisses she let out, though he knew she liked it. If she liked his blade cutting her skin, surely she would enjoy his teeth just the same and he wanted to taste her just as she had him. He bit down and her blood quickly spilled for him. Once he'd had a taste, he pulled back so he could admire the way it poured over her pale skin and the way his bite mark disappeared just so he could leave another in it's place. Despite his tight grip on her hair, she forced her head back down so she could look at him once more. Though it was dark she could make out some of his features. He had dark, curly brown hair, a strong jaw and very serious brows atop dark eyes, but despite his intensity, he had an almost angelic appearance in the shadows. Though, she knew he was no angel. She saw that well enough in his eyes. She saw what he wanted to do to her and it made her body tremble with anticipation. She felt his hands gripping her bare waist so tightly it would have torn mortal flesh. He didn't want to wait any longer, he wanted to claim her as his own, body and, if she had one, soul. She slid her legs down and once her feet found the floor below her, she pushed him to the ground. The floorboards bent around him from the force and he went to push himself up, but before he could she was on top of him. He knew that smirk on her face was because she knew this wasn't how things were going to go, at least not for long. He grabbed hold of her thighs and stopped her from taking him. She could do as she pleased other than that. That was something he would give to her when he felt she deserved it. She met his lips again, sloppily this time as she kissed down his body and let her nails drag on his skin above her head as she got lower and lower. He stifled the groans that we're building within him as he felt her cold lips press against the lowest possible part of his naval. She was careful not to give him what he wanted, that was her leash to hold, at least that's what she thought. As if he'd read her mind, he put a stop to that right away. He wasn't one to be teased. He sat up and grabbed her by her throat to put her on the ground. He not only loved that he could hear the sound of the house being utterly destroyed each time he threw her, but that she could take it. He pinned her underneath him where she belonged and threw her legs around his waist so he could align himself with her. He didn't waste another second to drive himself into her. He felt her nails dig into his back as he took what he wanted. He was surprised to find it came naturally to him, he knew exactly what he wanted to do and how he was going to do it. His hand returned to her throat to bring her up to him so she could take what she wanted. He needed her to now, he wanted that rush from before combined with the feeling of how tight she was around him. He wanted her to drink from him and as much as she wanted. He knew she understood, he watched her tongue glide over her sharp fangs before she latched onto his neck. That rush washed over him instantly and he picked up his pace while he held her head in place. He was unable to control the moans that fell from his lips as she drank from him and deeply. She was glad he held her in place because she could barely hold herself up. Each time he pushed into her he hit a spot that made her head spin. He may have been inexperienced, but he was bringing her closer and closer to her climax with every move he made. Her fingers reached down in desperation, she was almost there, she just needed friction on that other sweet spot he had yet to discover. He caught her hand and quickly replaced it with his own, but allowed her to show him what she wanted. He caught on fast and soon enough she could barely focus on drinking him anymore. Though he tasted so good, what he was doing to her was somehow even better. She unlatched her teeth from him and her head fell back as her orgasm washed over her. He watched her face contort in an almost pained expression as her body grew tighter around him. Though he wanted her to continue feeding off of him, watching her face was equally as intoxicating. Watching what he was doing to her, what he was making her feel, it was enough to send him spiraling. Pleasure more intense than any he had ever felt took over, but he didn't stop. She held onto him tight enough to draw blood with her finger nails as he spilled into her. He buried his face in her neck as he rode out his orgasm, letting himself be more vocal than he ever had been in all his life. The sound of him falling apart brought her to the edge once again, which only made him continue. He felt her go limp in his arms as her body reveled in the pleasure he had brought her once again. He removed his face from her neck to look at her. She had her eyes closed and her neck was still craned back as she whispered his name to herself. He wondered if maybe that was all she could take, if maybe he had found her breaking point after all. He started to slow his pace, which only made a smile spread across her face again.

"Did you think we were finished?" She asked cockily.

When she lifted her head to meet his gaze, he smirked. He hadn't broken her yet, so he'd just have to keep trying.

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goforth-ladymidnight · 12 days

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Dirty Limericks

Tamlin Week 2024, Day 2: Poet

@tamlinweek

Rating: Teen and up (with mature themes)

Warnings: None (unless you don't like poetry, I guess)

Word Count: 900

Summary: Tamlin reads aloud the five limericks that he wrote to make Feyre laugh. (If you've ever wondered what the other four were, as referenced in ch. 19 of ACOTAR, this is my take on them.)

Read on AO3, or read on below:

“Feeling better today?” Tamlin asked, mirth dancing in his eyes and at the corners of his full mouth.

Feyre blushed as she caught herself staring, then tucked a stray hair behind her ear as she glanced away and mumbled something incoherent, even to her own ears.

“Good,” he said lightly, unbuttoning the first three buttons on his tunic as she pretended not to notice. “But, just in case, I wanted to give you… these,” he added, pulling some rumpled papers from his tunic and offering them to her.

Doing her best to ignore the glimpse of sun-kissed skin visible through his unbuttoned collar, she bit the inside of her cheek as she smoothed the three papers in her hands. One for each button, she thought, then shook her head as she tried to concentrate instead on what was written on them. Poems, she realized, grimacing as she scanned each page in turn. Five poems in all, with five lines each. Her heart sunk down to the pit of her stomach as she stared at the first, trying to sound out the unfamiliar words in her head. Bee… Bee-ah… Bee-ah-you…

“Before you bolt, or start yelling,” he began, as if he knew what she was thinking, “allow me.” He stepped closer to peer over her shoulder, and touched one corner of the page to hold it steady.

She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she felt his on her neck, warming the shell of her ear. If she had dared, she could have leaned back into his chest, and he might have put his arms around her as he read… But she didn’t dare.

In a clear, steady voice, he read the first poem:

“There once was a lady most beautiful

Spirited, if a little unusual

Of friends, she had few

But the men did queue

Yet to all she gave a refusal.”

Her eyebrows rose. Is this about me, she wanted to ask, but before she could, he took the pages from her and stepped away to keep reading:

“Her refusals were rather dismaying

So they thought they should try dragon slaying

To their devastation

The mass conflagration

Burnt their pants, so they would not be staying.”

She let out a surprised chuckle when he finished. “What is this… Are you writing riddles?”

“Not riddles,” he said with a coy smile. “Limericks.”

Before she could ask him why, he shuffled to the second page and began reading another one.

“It wasn’t until later that night

That the young lady heard of their plight

She said: ‘What a pity

That no man in this city

Can cause my own pants to ignite!’”

Feyre’s face flushed, and she smothered a snort with her hand. “That’s a limerick?” she asked him, her voice muffled.

His eyes twinkled. “Indeed,” he said wryly, then shook out the papers and kept going.

By this lady’s own admonition

She is in an awkward position

Though she wishes to marry

Of these men, she is wary

For they cannot fuck in their condition.

Her brows shot up when he finished.

“You’re terrible!” she exclaimed, blushing madly.

He looked at her askance. “Am I?” he said, smirking slightly. “I thought I was rather good.”

“I mean, you are, but…” When she met his twinkling, green-eyed gaze, she bit her lip and glanced away. “How did you come up with these, anyway?”

He kept the final page but handed the rest to her. “Look at the last word in the second and fourth lines of each poem,” he said, nodding at the papers in her hands.

She did as he said, then frowned. Unusual. Queue. She glanced at the second poem, then her mouth fell open as she gasped, “These are my—”

“I couldn’t resist,” he said, smiling. “Your list of words was far too interesting to pass up,” he said, fluttering the last page in the breeze. “And not good for love poems at all.”

Slaying. Conflagration. Plight. Position.

Feyre felt her face flush anew. “Love poems?” she repeated doubtfully.

He chuckled. “Well… Not love poems, exactly,” he admitted with a shy smile. “You see… We had, ah, contests to see who could write the dirtiest limericks while I was living with my father’s war-band on the border.” He sauntered closer. “I don’t particularly enjoy losing, so… I took it upon myself to become good at them.”

As he came to stand before her, his warmth washed over her like the sun coming out after a storm. As warm as his eyes, flecked with amber… She bashfully bit back a smile and dropped her gaze to the pages in her hands.

How long had it taken him to write such bawdy lines for her amusement? And it was for her amusement, she realized, not his, or he would have read them to Lucien over dinner.

“Well, uh…” She cleared her throat, then fanned her face with the pages as she smiled shyly up at him. “If this was a contest, I’d say you won.”

His smile broadened, and her heart thumped strangely. “I saved the best for last, you know.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded and made a show of smoothing out the last page, then cleared his throat.

“She packed up her bags and forthwith-ian

Crossed over the Wall into Prythian

When she found what she sought

She was no longer distraught

For orgasms were no longer a myth-ian.”

Feyre burst out laughing, and when Tamlin joined in, the sound reminded her of ice shattering after a long winter.

#figuring out these limericks was oh so satisfying #tamlin #feyre archeron #i loved their romance in book 1 #i miss them #feylin #pro tamlin #acotar fanfiction #my writing

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boundinparchment · 1 year

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Blasphemous Rumors - I

“Marry me.” He said it with such blasé that you weren’t sure you heard him correctly. Silence surrounded the two of you and he leaned down and tilted his head, watching you like a specimen under a microscope. “Just for a year. A marriage of convenience. Consider it nothing more than a harmless experiment for the sake of curiosity.” Il Dottore/Female reader with established personality. Marriage of convenience. Slow burn. Semi-enemies to lovers. Available on AO3 here.

You glanced at your calendar and then the clock above the open door to your office, the shining metal hand hovering at three minutes to the hour. The cherry wood walls glowed from the afternoon sun that managed to push its way through the clouds. Such days painted the eternally frozen tundra in a vista of sparkling crystals, light refracting to the point of blinding any who dared gaze upon it. Snezhnaya was a hell unto itself, even on a good day. Fitting, you thought, for the land that did not love its people.

Two minutes.

Usually he was here by now.

But then again, Lord Harbinger Dottore did as he pleased and when he pleased. You wouldn’t be surprised if the man sent another in his place. If that was the case, you hoped it was at least one of his older copies; explaining your calculations and why it wasn’t appropriate to submit a receipt that simply read, Three assistants and a consecrated beast, for monthly budget reviews. The younger ones, especially from his days prior to being a Harbinger, tended to argue so passionately that it scared the other accountants into going on lunch early at his mere presence.

How lucky they were.

At one point, you’d been brave (or perhaps stupid) enough to ask Lord Harbinger Pantalone why he didn’t handle the budget analysis himself when he had to be the one to approve it. Your boss merely smiled that same patient smile he alway wore when clients wore his patience thin and said that it was a conflict of interest.

Right.

Or perhaps you just like throwing people to the wolves for sport, you bastard.

You rolled your shoulders slightly, willing away the tension creeping up your spine. Lord Dottore picked up on that every time and would often use it to his advantage if he could. Not today.

The papers on your desk were arranged by each particular Segment’s budget, neat piles of receipts and requests. Of all Harbingers, Dottore’s budget was often the most expensive due to the nature of his work and that all of it was shared amongst his copies; that very reason was why you were confused to be assigned to his accounts when it made more sense for Lord Pantalone to handle it personally. Curiosity occasionally tickled your mind when you read some of them, wondering just what a Harbinger might want with a Chasm expedition, a trip to Mondstadt, and a special order of Fontaine-made steel cages. Sensibility got the better of you when you realized that the stains on the paper weren’t ink but dried blood.

Over the years, you had gotten used to figuring out the handwriting differences to determine which expense belonged to who. They were all Dottore but for disbursement and record reasons, breaking it down just made sense.

“If you’re going to spend the next minute staring off into space, I have plenty of other matters that require my attention.”

You jolted at the voice as your name punctuated his sentence, hoping you weren’t already burning with embarrassment. Lord Harbinger Dottore stood in the threshold of your office, arms crossed, lips tugged into a disappointed frown. It was difficult to tell whether it was his oldest Segment or the Harbinger personally at first glance, until you caught a glimpse of the Cryo Delusion pinned to his lapel.

You stood and gestured to the front of your desk, where two chairs sat. He shut the door and took neither of them.

“Forgive me, sir. I’ll make this as quick as possible.”

“Please do.”

You went through the piles, pointing through each itemized request, the estimated cost, and the approved amounts. Every so often, he shook his head, offered an explanation for why the cost needed to be approved and the timeline involved.

“The amount needs to be approved by Lord Pantalone in this case,” you said. “A few million mora and what sounds like an expedition involving multiple staff members working overtime to meet a deadline needs more than a vague reference to an idea, Lord Harbinger.”

Dottore scoffed softly but didn’t push the matter. You continued on through each pile, a total of six this time, before reaching his own personal expenses and budget. Red herrings in each budget were circled and not accounted for nor reimbursed, as usual.

When you first took over (the last accountant had been a victim of the mechanical bird across the Harbinger’s shoulders and it took weeks to get the blood out of the carpet), you made it a point to ask about the items that didn’t quite fit, ones that had a larger description and more involved than what was submitted on paper. It was a game, you realized, when he didn’t argue in their defense further and took his bank notes and mora with nothing more than a thank you.

Your predecessor had, according to Lord Pantalone, approved every budget of Dottore’s without question, you came to learn in your yearly review. Your detailed nature was a mark of your dedication.

It had taken everything in you not to laugh right then and there. Little did your employer know that you had hand-copied several ledger books the night prior and dropped them off in the post that morning and received an anonymous deposit hours later.

“Everything else, with the exception of this,” Dottore tapped the pile of receipts from one of his younger, bolder Segments who grinned too much, “is finalized, then?”

“Yes. I can have the invoices paid this afternoon, write out the promissory notes to approved parties, and have your withdrawal requests in the next few minutes.”

“Fine.”

You slid the usual withdrawal form and pen across your desk and he signed it without even a second glance. Dottore pushed it back across the polished wood with his middle finger, a subtle sign of his disapproval at having to wait on another for his additional funds, and you filled in the rest as necessary.

“Would you prefer I have a messenger bring everything to you, Lord Harbinger?”

“You finished earlier than anticipated; I can spare the time, provided you are…expedient.”

You couldn’t agree more. The sooner he was out of your office, the better.

The floorboards creaked as Dottore shifted his weight and turned away from you. From the angle of his head, it seemed as if he was assessing the small collection of personal items you kept in your office on the far wall. A few books, mostly professional, a little trinket you bought back from your first and only trip to Liyue last year, a small reproduction of a landscape painting you once saw in Fontaine.

The perks of working for a Harbinger: every once in a while, travel was required. Not that you stayed in one place long enough to enjoy it, of course.

You scribbled out vendor names and amounts owed, sorting them into the same piles as the receipts. By now, some of the names were second nature, although some clearly less legitimate than others. Not your problem, of course, but it was something to note in your next bundle of notes to mail.

“Here you are, Lord Harbinger.”

Gloved hands took the papers, flicked through them, and he gave an approving hum.

“Do let me know as soon as Regrator approves the final amount. I have deadlines.”

“Yes, Lord Harbinger.”

You stood and bowed at the waist until you heard the door open and then shut with a shuddering slam that shook the windows of your office that faced the hall. It was impossible to ignore the startled sound of a colleague passing by, taken aback by the sound, and as you straightened, they sent you a sympathetic expression.

Their Harbinger, Arlecchino, often left screaming.

Your shoulders rose and fell with a sharp sigh and you were determined to get back to other tasks. That was, by far, one of the more pleasant interactions you had with the Second Harbinger.

Familiar footfalls from further down the hall, from the corner office, revealed your boss before you heard his voice. Always so sweet, disarming, in front of everyone, calling for an old friend rather than a colleague of higher rank. Through the sheer curtains that provided some semblance of privacy in your office, you caught sight of the Ninth Harbinger passing by, as if hoping to catch Dottore before he left. The two Harbingers were thick as thieves despite their rank difference; it was well known that they collaborated on much of the weapons design for the Fatui and elsewhere, a balance of power and the means to mass manufacture it.

It was impossible not to miss the way Dottore hesitated, his head turning slightly in your direction, before following Pantalone back down the hall and towards the Harbinger’s office.

He blamed you, clearly. But there was no way Lord Pantalone would know, not that quickly, you reasoned. You didn’t need to see his eyes (not that you ever had) to know he had been envisioning your death for such an inconvenience.

You glanced at the clock and made a mental note to include the mention of their meeting in your report.

____________________

It wasn’t until the double doors to the opulent office were closed that Dottore spoke as he folded and tucked away the accountant’s documents into his coat’s breast pocket. He reached up and took off his mask to run a hand through his hair, pushing the long strands back.

“What do you want, Regrator? I have other matters to attend to. I have little time for socializing.”

The Ninth Harbinger scoffed as he rounded his desk, dragging a hand across the gleaming surface as he went. The wide window behind the desk, between two sweeping bookcases filled with books that deserved to be in an archive rather than Regrator’s office, provided a view of the Palace grounds; an easy way to keep an eye on the comings and goings of everyone.

Sandrone’s information network was more efficient but then again, Dottore mused, Regrator was not known for such things. Opulence and the visual impact of the power it offered did far more than it was given credit for.

“Your last budget was far above the usual average, Dottore. The Jester and the Tsaritsa are only willing to overlook so much when results have been less than ideal.”

“I am far above reproach from you, lest you forget your place, Regrator.”

“And here I thought we were friends, Dottore.”

Pantalone turned away from the window, golden eyes meeting crimson before falling onto the scale on his desk. Idle fingers found a stray piece of mora from a tiny pile and placed it on one side, tipping the balance.

“Your expenses are one of many. The facility in Liyue cost a large investment and as far as your reports are concerned, you don’t even use it any more.”

“It didn’t yield results. Once the Ruin Guard manufacturing process was understood, it served little purpose after that.”

“You cannot just continue to bleed the Fatui dry because you got bored, Dottore. That’s not the only instance, either. There’s the refinery in Fontaine, the Delusion factory in Inazuma, the fact that you are consistently the only Harbinger to constantly need a stream of assistants because many of them never come back from a mission…”

Every line item was met with another piece of mora being dropped onto the scale, as if Pantalone was tallying Dottore’s expenses personally. The Second opened his mouth, vile words on his tongue, but the other man held up a hand, silencing him.

“I am aware of how crucial your inventions and research are, that isn’t the question. But to continue to be wasteful with more money and manpower is irresponsible and you aren’t the only one affected…”

“Just say that you can’t skim off the top as much as you’d like. There’s little sense beating around the bush.”

Pantalone’s glare was met with a sharp-toothed grin.

“Yes, there’s that, too. But I answer to Pierro as much as you do. I have investors who get upset if they lose a single mora as it is. If you were any other client, Northland wouldn’t lend to you based on a lack of return from the investment.”

Dottore rolled his eyes before he shifted his weight and began to pace. How dull. He didn’t need to waste his time on such drivel, friend or not.

“What do you want, then, Regrator? Some projects are slower than others; every little detail must be accounted for, just as you sit and count your gold and adjust your ledgers. There is a difference between efficiency and haste.”

The metal heels of his boots pressed into the plush carpet and Dottore had no doubt that Regrator would bemoan the wearing down of the fibers upon his exit. It’s what the man deserved for wasting his time. It was the banker’s job to deal with this, not his. If he wanted this level of bullshit, he would have played by the Akademiya’s rules.

The silence in the office, save for the ticking of the large clock in the corner (Fontaine made, Dottore well knew) and the scratch of Pantalone’s pen on paper, was beginning to claw at his mind. Why call him in if there was no purpose to this lecture about financial responsibility? He was above all of this.

“I have a proposal for you,” Pantalone said at last, capping his pen.

Dottore clicked his tongue in disapproval when the other Harbinger simply pushed a piece of paper across the desk and then folded his hands under his chin. The Second Harbinger strode over and picked up the document, the ink not yet dry.

“A contract, Regrator? How unbecoming of you.”

Golden eyes narrowed, irises barely visible. “Prove to me that you’re able to keep a commitment and I’ll give you carte blanche on future budgets.”

“You’re ridiculous. This is stupid.”

“There’s no greater commitment than marriage.”

Dottore hummed in disapproval.

“You can pick anyone you want,” Pantalone unfolded his hands, gesturing with his hands open. “But it cannot be someone whose name you do not know.”

The Second’s eye twitched. Names. What did names matter? Dottore grimaced at the concept that the piece of paper in his hand outlined.

“And no, it cannot be a Segment or me,” Regrator laughed. “We’d kill each other.”

“Your wife stole the Tsaritsa’s coat and from what I’ve heard, you two don’t exactly get along. What’s the difference?”

“Our arrangement is…beneficial.”

Nonsense. Absolute, illogical, nonsense. He barely had the time to manage his own projects, even with his Segments, and Pantalone was proposing to throw a spouse into the mix?

Besides, no one would want to marry him. At least, no one with a brain. The status of his position would lend itself to viable candidates in any other situation, if he were anyone else. Most trembled at the mention of his name, let alone in his presence.

But to not need approval at all…to be free from all of the bureaucratic bullshit and red tape…

“Oh, and it has to be at least somewhat believable, Dottore. An actual commitment of a year minimum, whether or not your tiny heart cares about them at all. If you fail, each Segment gets their own accountant and must have signed approval for—”

“You’ve made your point.”

Dottore put the contract back on the desk and held out his hand, palm up, awaiting a pen. When the instrument was placed into his hand, he scribbled his title and shoved the paper back to Regrator.

“You’ll regret this offer, Pantalone.”

“We’ll see.”

The Second Harbinger replaced his mask and turned on his heel, slamming the door behind him. He didn’t want to look at that disgusting, smarmy grin any longer than he needed to.

Marriage for a year, a commitment, in exchange for unlimited funding. Easy. He’d finished projects in that amount of time with promising, even optimal, results. A year for the one who figured out how to save time and preserve his perspectives and survive for centuries was nothing.

Believability, however…the limitations on knowing the person’s name…

He never learned names. They were unimportant, trivial, transient things. He had better things to do than learn names…

As he walked back down the corridor, out towards the length of individual offices, something gnawed on his brain. The stipulation for knowing a name meant the pool of people he had to choose from was…ridiculously small.

It had to be someone comfortable with his rank, used to the world of the Fatui, at the very least.

Dottore slowed to a stop as he came upon a familiar door, now open.

That could work.

His feet carried him towards the threshold and over it, finding a face he had seen numerous times already, buried in a ledger.

Yes, he reasoned. This could be tolerable.

He didn’t speak, not until you looked up at him, a silent question parting your lips.

“Marry me.”

#fic: blasphemous rumors #dottore #il dottore #female reader #dottore/reader #il dottore/reader #dottore/female reader #il dottore/female reader #marriage of convenience

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girl-next-door-writes · 1 year

Text

How Can We Say Forever

Characters: Armitage Hux x reader

Summary: There is a fine line between the fantasy and the reality. So when that line is crossed, Armitage does what he feels is necessary to survive.

Word Count: 1097 words

Prompt: Angst. Mutual pining. Everyone knows but them. A kiss without thinking. Help fixing clothes.

A/N: @morby requested a touch of angst for my favourite general as part of my follower milestone celebration, and so here it is.

It had been the right thing to do. Obviously it was the correct decision, so why did he have to spend so much time telling himself that? Strategically, it made sense for you to take a squadron and set up a base in the abandoned Rebel camp, find out as much as you could about the area. Professionally, it made sense for you to gain this promotion of sorts. Personally… well.

If asked, Armitage could tell someone how long, to the very minute, it had been since you had left his side. Like a slow drip in the back of his mind, his body tracked the loss, stealing him of sleep and what little appetite he had. Countless times, he turned a corner and believed, for a fraction of a second, that he caught a glimpse of you. There were moments he thought he caught the scent of your shampoo. The whole situation was slowly driving him insane. Your absence was more of a distraction than your presence had ever been.

“General Hux.” Your voice cut through his thoughts. Even the grainy hologram of you didn’t ease the deep ache within him. These update reports had started as the highlights of his week, but now they were just a reminder of the distance between you.

His image appeared before you, causing your heart to race. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping, exhaustion etched on his features, and you felt a pang of concern. What you would give to be there to take on some of his burdens, to lighten his load. Then again, that was the problem was it not? You had got too close and now you were banished from his presence.

It had started out as little things, helping with paperwork, bringing him an extra caff on your way past the bridge when he was on shift. At first, he seemed surprised by your gestures, then intrigued. The line between you grew blurred and you had taken for granted all the little smirks and knowing looks he sent your way, thinking this was how it would always be, you and your General.

Of course, this behaviour did not go unnoticed by others. Phasma would roll her eyes affectionately whenever she saw you approaching her and Hux, knowing that she had lost his attention completely as soon as he spotted you. Kylo had publicly berated you for a mistake which was not your fault, and paused mid-sentence when he felt the heat of Armitage’s anger pulsing through him. Ren turned to look at the General who was trying so hard to conceal his emotions, knowing protecting you would only lead to ruin. Several underlings on the base had figured out that, if they had to take bad news to their General, then the best time would be when you were there, somehow you always lessened the blow.

This budding, whatever it was, was clear to see by everyone who saw the two of you together and yet, if asked, you both would insist it was a professional respect and nothing more. That was until the incident.

Standing in his office, Armitage frowned as he went over his notes for his latest address. The fine balance between inspiration and lecturing he usually excelled at felt a little forced this time.

“I just don’t think it is stirring enough.” He grumbled as you took the notes from him and cast your eye over them.

“I think, there are troops who would feel inspired by you even if you read them the instruction manual for refresher installation. It is just as much about how you say it as it is what you say.” You place the notes on the desk and smooth down the lapels of his coat, picking off an errant piece of lint that had dared defile his ensemble.

As your fingers worked over the cloth, Armitage felt as if time had slowed. Holding his breath, his eyes took in every detail of your face, savoring the proximity. There was something about having you this close that made his brain glitch. He felt heat rising up the back of his neck and just prayed you wouldn’t notice the panicked look in his eyes. The desire to say something witty, to make you smile, or even laugh, was overwhelming and left him speechless.

“There. Perfectly presentable.” You hummed, looking up from the coat with a soft smile. “Go inspire the masses, Sir.”

And that was when it happened. That was the moment that changed everything. Without a thought, you had leaned in and placed a kiss to his cheek as if it were the most natural thing for you to do.

On the loneliest of nights, when he lay in the dark of his bedroom, Armitage closed his eyes and would swear he could feel the warmth of your breath, the softness of your lips, the stain of your kiss forever imprinted upon his soul.

Armitage stiffened at the contact, bringing you back to your senses and you hurriedly pulled away, eyes wide with panic.

“Sir, I-“ whatever you had been about to say, whatever apology that might have fallen from your lips was interrupted by a trooper informing the General that he was required urgently. And so, he had left. He left you standing there in his office wondering how badly you had damaged your relationship.

Armitage had been a coward, he knew that. After going out of his way to avoid you, he had happened upon this advancement for your career. He knew you sort him out when you received your new orders, Phasma had told him as much, but he couldn’t bring himself to see you. If you were physically in his presence then either you would apologise and he would see how much you wished to take back that moment, a moment that had become the most precious to him, OR he would take back this promotion because the reality of never seeing you again would break his heart.

The latter was not an option. You had to go. Somehow, you had become his weakness and as soon as that was discovered then he was done for. There was no room in the First Order for ‘happy ever after’, no space for ‘forever’. He didn’t deserve that kind of life and a romantic entanglement would only prevent him from focusing on his long term goals. It was the right thing to do. Strategically, professionally, it was the right decision. So why did he feel that he was simply sitting here, waiting for you?

#Armitage Hux #Armitage Hux x reader #Hux x reader #General Hux x reader #gndw fic

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bleedingichorhearts · 2 months

Text

𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 VI

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Sorry if this one came out “quick.” I got excited.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.

TW // Curse.

Going to the store was physically hard to go to without Hydra following me. His purrs, and coos trying to beg me to stay with him on the bed a little moment longer. His lips tickling my neck while I playfully swatted at him.

“I'll come back soon, and I’ll make your favorite!” I bargained with the touched staved Astartes, shimming out of his embrace.

A whine left him, but he didn’t pursue. Instead, he plopped back in the bed like a starfish with his legs hanging off the bed. A big sigh coming out of him.

“Oh you’ll live.” I laughed, getting my shoes on, using the archway for support. Oblivious to the moving Astartes.

I would have spent more time in bed with the cuddly Alpha Legion since he came back from one of his weekly trips, but basic living calls and now, I got a Hydra to feed.

Where did I put my jacket?

“Hydra!” I yelped, jumping in his hold as he lifted me up, his teeth nipping at my neck while he rumbled with laughter. “Put me down!”

A huff escaped me while I got out of my car. Wondering when the person that I’ve hired would come out and stock my home pantry. They should have been here a week ago.

It wasn’t like I couldn’t do my own shopping, but my secondary income came from my streaming. So sometimes, I just don’t have the time to do any heavy weighted shopping.

Walking through the sliding doors of the grocery store. I was greeted by the manager today. His head simply nodded at me in a greeting while he checked out another person’s groceries.

Giving a nod in return, I grabbed a basket, and made my way around the store. Grabbing things that could last me for about a week with Hydra included.

Grabbing a jar of spaghetti sauce, and heading over to the meat aisle. I remembered meeting Hydra here when he was trying to eat the raw meat here, looking like a mucky lost soul.

I hummed, the memory brought a smile to my lips as that event only happened only a year and a half ago. My dude almost ate a roll of raw meat.

Shaking my head, I put the roll of meat into my basket, and headed for the bakery. Picking up a baguette to make some garlic bread with the spaghetti before heading over to the cashier.

“How we doin’ today?” The manager asked, scanning the items I took out of my basket.

“Just getting stuff for week.” I responded, fiddling with my wallet to get my card out of it’s pocket.

“That so?” He questioned, stashing my items into a plastic bag.

“Uh yeah, I thought you only supervised?” I questioned him back.

“Eh, ‘rom time to time.” He said. “$52.67, please.”

Using my card on the reader. I typed in my PIN, and waited for it to beep before taking it out. Rushing over to get my bags.

“Be careful out there al’right?” He warned, already scanning another person’s grocery’s.

“Will do Mr. Terrel!” I shouted at him before I left the store, the doors sliding closed behind me.

Rain hit my face while I made my way over to my car, my hands struggling to find the car keys in my pocket.

Getting my grip on them, I pushed the button, and unlocked the car. Hurriedly stashing the groceries in the front passenger seat.

Shutting the door, I caught a glimpse of bright blue glowing in an alleyway. Doubling back, the blue glow was still there, staring.

The hairs and the back of my neck suddenly stood up as me, and this glowing visor had a stare down.

They didn’t seem to be threatening, but only one with a horrible sense of survival skills would even dare to approach such towering visor.

They took a step out. Silver, and gold drawing the elements of their armor. The rain washing away at them.

Oh, sh*t.

—

Oh she smelled so sweet, so savory, but she smelled like another.

Another who scent is all over her. Another that claimed her before I did. Another that I do not see. Another who is not providing truly.

Another whose death would not go unnoticed.

ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 VII

ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 V

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥: “𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗” 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖘𝖙

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wild-dagon · 8 months

Note

Been loving all your posts about this au! Was wondering if you had any thoughts about how the chain reacts to fake Wild/Phantom Ganon running around? When I played the game it was really obvious that it wasn't actually Zelda. Do they pick up on that?

I’m so glad you’re enjoying this.

I haven’t thought to much about puppet!wild.

But there are three ways you could play it.

The first is them seeing puppet!wild once they arrive in totk. If the see puppet!wild first before making it to Lookout Landing they could be tricked into an ambushed leading to a lot of questions about what is going on with Wild and them looking for Flora for answers. I think it would be easy to trick them as they have just arrived in this timeline and are excited to see Wild again. This is the only way I can see them getting tricked.

Or you can have them encounter puppet!wild after the find out about Dragon!Wild. As they travel around they here these wild stories about Wild. How people have seen him recently and he’s doing all of these crazy things. They know it can’t be Wild. They’ve seen his dragon form. But there are some members of the group who think that maybe Wild is projecting his Spirit to try and help the people but because he’s a spirit he just can’t communicate right.

They argue the idea around. Wind is a big believer of spirit Wild. Twilight, Hyrule and Sky hope that’s true but don’t want to put their hopes to high. After all it’s better then any other alternative. Time, Legend, Four, and Warrior can smell a rat. They don’t know what these visions of Wild are but they don’t trust them.

Their first real encounter with puppet!wild would be when they are trying to help the Goron. Tulin says he saw Wild when they are searching for the Arc but none of the chain saw him. No it’s not until Goron city that they see the puppet and they all agree that it can’t be Wild. He would never behave in that manner. So that lead to the question. What is it?

They hear a rumor about Wild being captured and go to check it out. They know it’s not really Wild but they want to know what that thing is. When they find it, it hurts way more then they thought it would. The person in the cage is obviously not Wild. He doesn’t stand like that, he doesn’t talk that. And he would defiantly recognize them. So just who is this? They open the cage only for the yiga to reveal themselves. The fight is over before it began. There’s a lot of pent up rage in the group over what has happened to Wild. And to have the yiga mockingly use his face to try and trick Flora. Ya the the Yiga didn’t stand a chance.

So mystery solved it’s the yiga trying to help Ganondorf. Except why is his outfit different. The Yiga had him in his champion tunic. But the version they saw up on death mountain was wearing something completely different. Different members of the group hold different levels of suspicion.

Then after they find four of the sage, they know there’s more. There’s always six to seven sages, Wild appears at the castle. The boys are super upset. They know it’s not Wild. But why are the yiga taunting them like this. Legend wants to end this and rushes up to the castle. Warriors and Twilight are hot in his tail along with the others.

Once they’re up there puppet!wild leads them into trap after trap. Until the throne room. When they find out that it’s not a yiga in a costume but Ganondorf himself using Wild’s image to cause chaos across hyrule. The boys are furious. How dare he. He’s the reason Wild’s a dragon and now he’s slandering Wild’s name and memory in his timeline. It won’t stand.

The third idea can be tacked onto the front of the prior idea. But it depends on how much power Ganondorf had when trapped. I think the boys have caught glimpses of dragon!Wild ever since they separated from him. They’ve seen him in multiple timelines before making it to totk. If Ganondorf has enough power maybe he sent his puppet!wild up sooner. Maybe the puppet has been working with dark to try and kill off the chain. Maybe the boys have been chasing Wild’s shadow ever since he left. He’s been moving around like a ghost. The catch him in the corner of their eyes but when they turn to look he’s not there. Everyone just thinks they are missing Wild and hallucinating him being around but in actuality puppet!Wild is following them.

I personally think idea two is the best but we have options to mix and match

#dragon link #ask #linked universe #lu four #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu sky #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu wind #lu wild #lu totk role reversal au

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opalwhisker · 2 years

Text

So I’ve seen a few people say they hope Pearl shows up on Impulse and Bdubs’ doorstep in double life and I cannot agree more, just--

Pearl is cold. And tired. And heartbroken. She’s been scorned by her soulmate and abandoned and blamed for wrongs she didn’t commit by the only other person who she’d thought understood her.

She’d considered going to Scott and trying to plead her case, to apologize, to offer the resources she’d managed to gather on her trip with Martyn... but she also knew Scott well. He didn’t take kindly to disloyalty and had a vindictive streak a mile long. Trying to explain herself would only be like trying to talk to a brick wall.

“Well Tilly, looks like it’s just you and me against the world, huh?” She buries her hand in her beloved dog’s fur, trying to ignore the way her voice wavered and cracked. The pup looked up at her with sad eyes and licked her hand, sensing her distress. Suddenly Tilly’s ears perked up and she growled at something behind Pearl, barking once before bounding into the trees after whatever she’d seen.

“Tilly!” Pearl shouted, sounding a little more distressed than she realized as even her dog ran off without her. “Tilly, come back!” Scrambling to her feet, Pearl chased after her dog, she couldn’t risk losing her only friend now. Unfortunately the sun was setting and monsters were beginning to emerge from their hiding spots.

Pearl quickly lost sight of Tilly in the darkness, distracted as she fought back zombies and skeletons, flinching with guilt each time one of them scratched her and she could feel the wound begin to heal. She could almost hear Scott’s voice complaining about her recklessness with each blow.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry--” She muttered to him under her breath, as if she could send her remorse and regret through their link so he could understand-- But it didn’t work like that. Because otherwise, Scott would have known that she hadn’t meant to upset him, he would have heard her apologies with each injury she’d taken in the nether, he would have known how much her heart ached right now.

Blocking another arrow with her shield, Pearl finally caught sight of Tilly in the distance, attacking a skeleton across an open field. Glancing over her shoulder at the army of mobs following her in the woods, Pearl decided she had better chances making a break for it, sprinting across the fields over to Tilly and cutting down the skeleton with a satisfying crit. But she didn’t have the time to catch her breath, scooping Tilly up with a grunt and continuing to run from the mobs chasing her.

Her lungs ached as she ran, eyes desperately searching for someplace safe that she could finally rest when she caught a glimpse of light in the distance. She didn’t know what was over there, but light meant safety, and at this point that was all she cared about. She didn’t dare stop until she felt the warmth of the torchlight around her, finally setting Tilly down and collapsing onto the grass to catch her breath, chest heaving.

Once she’d finally caught her breath, she took a moment to take in her surroundings. She recognized this area, she realized. She’d passed through here with Martyn earlier in the day. A small crop field and a surprisingly well-built house nestled into a hillside. She laughed despite herself, because of course Bdubs would still build a pretty house in a world so focused on survival as this. She felt a pang of sadness as the thought left her. She’d seen Impulse and Bdubs. Soulbound and protective of each other and happy.

When they’d parted ways it had left Pearl feeling even more excited to finally meet up with her soulbound partner and experience those things for herself. Now, here she was, back on their doorstep hours later, heartbroken and alone, the only soul she could say she was bound to being that of her faithful pup. She knew that if she knocked on their door Impulse would gladly welcome her into their home with warmth and kindness, but still she hesitated. Would it be right for her to intrude upon them? Would it be fair of her to impose herself on them? But even as she hesitated, Tilly began to bark, growling at the encroaching shadows.

Pearl grabbed for Tilly’s collar, to keep her from running off again, and swore under her breath. She thought she’d shaken the mobs that had been pursuing her, but the rattle of bones and the moans of zombies in the distance told her she hadn’t done a good enough job.

“What’s with all that racket?!” Pearl jumped a little as Bdubs’ shouted from inside the house and Tilly barked again. “Whose dog is that?!”

“Pearl? What are you doing out there?” Light spilled from the open door as Impulse came to check on what was going on. “Oh jeez-- That’s a lot of mobs!”

“Impulse, I--” Pearl began but yelped as an arrow narrowly missed her.

“No time for that, get in here!” Impulse waved her over frantically and Pearl leapt to her feet, still holding Tilly by the collar to keep her from running off as she hurried through the door. Impulse slammed the door shut and locked it behind them, and Pearl finally heaved a sigh of relief at being somewhere safe.

“Pearl, what’s going on? Where’s Martyn? Did you find your soulbound partner?” Impulse asked worriedly.

“Oh, Pearl, it was you makin’ all that noise out there?” Bdubs asked before he was immediately jumped on by Tilly, who was wagging her tail fiercely. “WAH-AH-HEY-- NO, BAD DOG--ptthbb ptbh ack-- Pearl! Tell your dog to stop lickin’ my face!”

“Hang on Bdubs, I’ve got you--” Impulse whistled softly to Tilly to grab the dog’s attention and coaxed her over to him, rubbing her head and petting her energetically until Tilly calmed down a bit.

“Thank you, sweetie.” Bdubs kissed Impulse’s cheek affectionately and Impulse giggled a little at the pet name.

Pearl watched the whole scene silently. This is what soulbound partners should look like, she thought. Looking out for each other, caring for each other, helping one another... Her mind went back to that moment as Scott and Cleo walked away from her, the icy disdain in Scott’s eyes as he cast her aside.

“Woah, hey! Pearl, are you okay?” Impulse’s warm hand on her shoulder snapped her from her thoughts and Pearl realized she’d started crying.

“I-- I...” Now that she’d started, Pearl couldn’t stop the hot tears that spilled from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “I’m alone, Impulse-- S-Scott wants nothing to do with me, a-all because I didn’t try to find him first, and-- and--” She choked up, unable to say out loud that Scott hated her. She squeaked a little as Bdubs hugged her tightly followed by Impulse, holding her tight and not saying anything until her sobs melted into sniffles. Gently, the two men released her, letting her wipe her eyes and catch her breath before Impulse gently put a hand on her knee.

“I think you could use some soup.” He said with a soft smile, and Pearl laughed despite herself.

“Soup sounds wonderful, Impulse.”

“I’ll get the mushrooms!” Bdubs announced eagerly, getting to his feet to rummage through their chests.

“Don’t forget to put a few aside so we don’t use them all!” Impulse called out, but didn’t leave Pearl’s side just yet. He looked at her worriedly and rubbed her back soothingly.

“You aren’t alone, Pearl. You can stay here with me and Bdubs. There’s nothing in the rules that says you have to stay with your partner.” Pearl sniffled one more time and nodded silently.

“Yeah! Forget Scott!” Bdubs agreed enthusiastically. “He’s a big dummy for refusing to team up with you!” Bdubs snorted indignantly as if he’d been the one Scott had cast aside.

Pearl smiled weakly up at them, grateful for their support, happy to find someone who did care about her, after all.

“Thanks you guys, I promise you won’t regret letting me stay with you.”

“We would never regret that!” Impulse squeezed Pearl’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’m going to help Bdubs with the soup. Why don’t you just take the time you need to settle in, okay?” Pearl smiled and nodded in return and watched as Impulse walked over to help Bdubs.

Pearl revels for a moment in the warmth of the scene, the way Impulse and Bdubs laughed together and smiled at each other, the way they worked so well together... For the first time that night, she felt warm, too. She might not be soulbound to either of them, but in that moment, Pearl felt an overwhelming sense of loyalty and spite bubble up inside her.

Fine then. If Scott, the one person who should care for her won’t do it, then she would devote herself to caring for the people who did. And she resolved in that moment that if that meant dying for Impulse and Bdubs, she’d do it. And if that made Scott mad? Even better.

#double life smp #double life smp spoilers #impulsesv #bdoubleo100 #pearlescentmoon #this was JUST SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT RAMBLING THING #but then i blacked out and oops its a fic i guess #my writing

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