#i hope to read his other book Lucky Man after i finish this one

[moonchildstyles]

whats this aster curious gazes im seeing ?🥸

wordcount: 2.7k+

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Mikaela impatiently checked the time broadcasted on the clock above the auditorium's entrance, trailing after the molasses-slow minute hand. How had it only been three minutes since she last checked and not the twenty she had sworn it had been? She and her group had already finished peer reviewing each other's papers ten minutes ago, but they were all confined to their seats for fear of Professor Rian marking them down for leaving early—one of his favorite activities Mikaela had learned about the hard way during the second week of courses.

"How much longer?" Bria bemoaned from across the table, her own boredom showing in her dull gaze. (Y/N) perked up at Mikaela's side at the question, though she stayed just as quiet as she always was. 

"Another thirty," Mikaela murmured, a moment away from rolling her eyes, "I feel like we've been waiting for, like, an hour." 

Around them, the remaining groups were still chattering, some speaking about the essays while others seemed just as checked out as them. Running a hand through her long hair, Mikaela convinced herself to stay strong. 

"At least it'll be the weekend after this," she reminded the table, looking to Bria, "You're still set on getting your tattoo this weekend?" 

Bria plucked up at the question, her brown eyes sparkling in excitement. "Mhm! They called and confirmed yesterday with me, so I'll be in tomorrow morning, first thing!" 

"Are you going to be with the same guy that you had the consultation with?" Mikaela asked, picturing the long haired, heavily tattooed man she had seen when she went with Bria the first time to set up the initial appointment. She almost booked one for herself after seeing him; even the scowl and less than friendly demeanor couldn't detract from his... everything. 

Leaning across the table as if sharing a secret, Bria raised her eyebrows with a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. "I hope. I might cancel, if not." 

Mikaela laughed along with her friend, knowing exactly where she was coming from. 

Piping up with a small smile on her features, (Y/N) asked, "Where are you going for your tattoo?" 

"It's not too far from here actually," Bria started, settling her chin in her hand as she spoke to (Y/N) at Mikaela's side. "It's called 17Black." 

(Y/N)'s expression brightened at the mention of the tattoo parlor in a way Mikaela had never seen before. Though she usually came to class fresh-faced and dewy, there was now a glimmer in her eyes that almost gave the illusion of glitter having fallen in her lashes.

"They're the best," she bubbled, her smile wide, "It's gonna turn out really, really good. You said you know who your artist is going to be?" 

"Yeah—um—hold on," Bria muttered, reaching into her bag, "I got his card last time I was in—I think he's the owner, or something." After a moment she pulled out a black and white business card, reading the name off: "Harry." 

Passing the card across the table, (Y/N) eagerly read over the stylized font and the glossy logo on the other side. "He's amazing—you're super lucky, Bria." 

(Y/N)'s smile wasn't one that could be shaken as she passed back the card. Mikaela thought she looked like she was proud, even. (Y/N) was always so reserved, seemingly more comfortable in the background and only chirping up when needed, Mikaela had never seen her so bright like this. 

"Have you been there before, (Y/N)?" she asked, trying to imagine someone like (Y/N) with any tattoos—especially done at a place like 17Black. 

Not that there was a specific kind of person that could have tattoos or that the parlor wasn't nice, but she had a hard time picturing (Y/N) with all her ribbons, pink sweaters, and shimmer flouncing into that building and getting a design inked into her skin. Especially by someone like Bria's artist; she was already shy enough, Mikaela doubted his scowls and curt tone would be anything of comfort.

That left her raising her brows in surprise when (Y/N) happily nodded her head. "Yeah! I only have one tattoo, but Harry did it and it's"—there was a moment something dreamy flashed over (Y/N)'s gaze then—"It's perfect." 

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," Bria interjected, her expression surely mirroring Mikaela's with her own perked brows and searching gaze as if they had both somehow missed an obvious marking. 

"It's really little," (Y/N) explained, settling some in her seat, "It's on my side, like, on my ribs, so people don't really see it." 

"I never pictured you with a tattoo," Mikaela added, "And especially on your ribs. You're brave." 

"Honestly," Bria started, bouncing full brows over her eyes "I don't know how you got through it, especially with him." 

A cinch appeared between (Y/N)'s brows. "What do you mean?" 

"You probably had to take your shirt off for the rib tattoo, right?" Bria prodded, watching as (Y/N) flustered some before ultimately nodding her head, "I don't know how to act around that guy—Harry—with my clothes on, I think I would combust if he asked me to take them off." 

It wasn't hard to see that (Y/N) was bubbling with embarrassment at Bria's remark—though Mikaela did hardily agree. She wondered if (Y/N) felt the same way; it was hard to picture her getting flustered over someone like Bria's artist. There could be that whole opposites attract thing going on for them, but Mikaela could only really see the scenario where Harry would crush the marshmallow that is (Y/N).

"Oh, I don't know," she muttered half-heartedly, trailing off without a real answer, "You know, he's just..." 

"It's okay, I get it," Bria finished for her with a bubbling laugh that had (Y/N) cracking her own polite smile. "He's pretty intimidating, honestly. Not for everyone, I guess." 

With her hands a bundle in her lap, (Y/N) tilted her head, "I wouldn't say that—" 

Not a moment too soon, Professor Rian made his way back to the forefront of the auditorium—something Mikaela wished he would have done a half an hour prior. "Class dismissed. Next Wednesday we'll do our final draft reviews and the finished essays will be due next Friday at midnight. Have a nice weekend." 

"Finally," Bria exasperated, immediately rushing to pack her things just as Mikaela had before Rian had even finished talking.

(Y/N) had done the smart thing and had her things ready to go once they had finished peer reviewing, only having to sling her bag over her shoulder while she quietly waited for the pair of them to get their own shit together. 

It was wild how much more awake Mikaela felt now that class had been dismissed, leaving behind the exhausted state she was lulling into at her desk. Shrugging into her jacket, the mental list of tasks she had to accomplish before her sister, Mira, and her boyfriend would be over for dinner didn't sound so bad now.

"What are you getting, Bria? For your tattoo, I mean," she chirped up, peering around Mikaela as they walked into the corridor, steps in sync with one another. 

"The moon and some stars and stuff on the top of my hand," she explained, "It's kind of hard to describe without a picture, but it's this whole thing." 

"That sounds really pretty," (Y/N) smiled, sincerity in her voice, "Hopefully it won't take too long—I hear the top of your hand can hurt sometimes with the bones and all." 

"It might not be so bad if it took a while, right?" Mikaela piped up, shooting Bria a look from the corner of her eye. Maybe, if Mira and her boyfriend didn't overstay their welcome tonight, she'd go with Bria in the morning and see if her artist had a girlfriend or something. 

(Or was at least open to hooking up on one of the tattoo chairs). 

Leading down the hall towards the main entrance of the building, Bria nudged Mikaela's shoulder. Ahead of them, (Y/N) reached forward and opened the door for the three of them to pass through. 

"Definitely wouldn't be bad," Bria laughed, the chill of the winter air seeping through the sleeves of Mikaela's jacket as they stepped outside. "I don't know, I might even—Wait, oh my god." 

"What?" Mikaela asked, brows furrowing at the abrupt change in her friend. 

Instead of the amused bubbly expression she wore just a moment prior, Bria now looked ahead with wide eyes and gaped lips, her steps slowing over the concrete. 

(Y/N) noticed the change in her demeanor as well, peering around Mikaela as her own features molded into something of worry. "What happened?"

"He's here," Bria muttered, looking straight ahead towards the student parking lot, "That's literally him right there, isn't it? Why is he here?" 

"Who? Who's her—" 

Following Bria's line of sight, Mikaela felt her own words get stuck in her throat when she saw just what had her friend going limp. 

As if summoned, Bria's tattoo artist—Harry—had somehow found a prime parking space in the student lot and was now waiting.

He was ever the intimidating figure with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the hulking frame of the black Range Rover behind him. (Because, of course, he would drive a Range Rover). Even with the chunky black cardigan draped over his form, he didn't look any less imposing than when he had stalked through the tattoo parlor. He perfectly matched his car, all black, tattoos tracing over his skin, including the heavy chest pieces on display from the low scoop of his top. A pair of sunglasses were holding his hair back on the top of his head, with his lips set in a firm line, lip ring and all.

"He doesn't go here, right?" Mikaela blanched. Why else would be here, if not to go to class, right?

(Y/N) looked just as bewildered as they were, a cant to her head as she took him in. "What is he doing here?" she muttered, voice quiet enough to be speaking to herself.

Their small trio stood off to the side, out of the way as the rest of their classmates trickled around them as well as other students meandering through campus. From where they stood, Mikaela could see the way the tattoo artist scanned over the student body, searching for something—or someone.

He didn't come to see Bria, right? That would be crazy, leaning on certifiable—even if he was hot.

Mikaela's eyes widened when she saw (Y/N) wave her hand above her head. What was she doing? Did she not think this was weird that he had showed up to campus when he really didn't have any reason to? 

She watched as he caught sight of (Y/N)'s waving arm and his features almost immediately softened. Even from where they were standing, it was clear to see the tension releasing from his body in a breath. He pushed off from where he was lent against his Range Rover and started towards the building—towards them.

Was (Y/N) insane or something, and they'd just missed all the signs until this moment? Why would she ask him to come over here?

"He's coming over here, what the fuck," Bria murmured, just as lost as Mikaela. 

It didn't take long for his spanning strides to cross the concrete and take him to where their small group had taken root. Seeing him this close again, Mikaela realized her memory didn't do him any justice—he was more than gorgeous. Unfortunately crazy, but still hot. 

Had he always had his nose pierced? Had his eyes always been that green? Had they always been pinned to (Y/N) like that? 

"(Y/N), do you—" Bria started, only to cut herself off when (Y/N) excitedly bounced up to her toes once the tattoo artist was close. 

"What are you doing here, H?" she chirped, familiarity in her voice as she looked up at him.

Mikaela figured she wore the same expression that Bria did, with her eyes wide and brows raised, a fraction away from her jaw dropping as they watched the tattoo artist—H—pull (Y/N) into his arms and drop a kiss on the top of her head.

"Came to pick you up for lunch, if that's okay," he murmured, not sparing a glance their way as he kept the pink marshmallow in his arms. "I also noticed there was an extra jacket lying around my room that I thought was supposed to be with you." 

Sheepishly looking down, (Y/N) shook her head. "I forgot, I'm sorry." 

Adoration was clear on the tattoo artist's—her boyfriend—features. "'S alright, lovebug. I brought it with me so y'can have it the rest of the day, jus' don't keep forgetting it. 'S only getting colder out, I don't want you to get sick." 

"I won't," (Y/N) sighed, looking entirely at home as she clutched his sweater in her hands and fluttered her lashes at him as if he were a king. "Thank you." 

Mikaela couldn't help the simmering of her blood beneath her skin, surely a flush painting her complexion as she thought back to just what she and Bria had been saying during class. They talked all about how hot (Y/N)'s boyfriend was to her face, implied he was intimidating and not her type, and she had even heard them freak out thinking he had come to see them. She was never going to pair with them for peer review again.

(Though Mikaela will give herself credit for not speaking about the lingering fantasy she'd had involving one of those tattoo chairs and Harry's hair pulled back so he could focus). 

"Um," Mikaela sounded, almost cringing at how stupid she sounded from just a single syllable, "I think we should probably go, but we'll see you next week, (Y/N)." 

(Y/N) turned with her expression going bashful. Her boyfriend's hands didn't move from where they were on her waist though he finally looked up from her to see the rest of the world around them. 

"I'm sorry," she apologized as if in reflex. Looking at the man behind her, she started with a shy smile on her lips, "Harry, this is Bria and Mikaela. They're the girls from one of my English classes I've told you about." 

Back was the expression she recognized from when she had dropped by the tattoo parlor. His features hardened some, going less open and easy to read than they had been just a moment ago. He took them in with a stilted smile on his lips. 

"Nice to meet you," he murmured, his gaze flicking to Bria for a split second longer, "Actually, we've met before, right? You're my nine a.m. tomorrow." 

"I am, yeah," Bria said, sounding just as lame as Mikaela felt. It was easy to see Bria was floundering for anything to say before she finally settled on, "(Y/N) didn't tell us she had a boyfriend." 

His smile turned lopsided at that, amusement flickering in his gaze as he looked down at the marshmallow in his arms. "She didn't?" 

(Y/N) looked to the pair of them, biting back a smile as if remembering what was said back in class but deciding it was their secret to keep. "It just didn't come up." 

"Right," he smiled, squeezing her waist just enough to get her bouncing at his side with a short huff of laughter pouring out, "Are you ready to go?" 

"I think so, yeah," (Y/N) agreed, craning her neck to smile up at him before returning her attention to Mikaela and Bria. "I'll see you guys next week."

The pair shared similar goodbyes, hoping they didn't sound as embarrassed as they felt. Walking away from them, Mikaela watched Harry tangle his fingers with (Y/N), slowing just long enough to press a kiss to her forehead before leading her towards his Range Rover.

"We are the most annoying people in the world," Mikaela said, breaking their silence, "We literally said all of that about him to his girlfriend." 

"She's never going to partner for peer review with us again." 

Despite the guilt and bits of humiliation floating through her system, Mikaela couldn't shake off just how sweet it was to see (Y/N) interact with someone like that—especially someone like her boyfriend. They were clearly in love, that much she could tell.

"Oh my god," Bria said, whipping her head around to look at Mikaela with horror stricken eyes. 

"What?" Mikaela asked, taken aback at the sudden urgency in Bria's voice. Was another person they had lusted over to their partner, about to round the corner? 

"I have to see him again tomorrow," Bria whined, "And, (Y/N)'s probably going to tell him what we said." 

At that thought, Mikaela really hoped her sister would overstay her welcome tonight—give her a reason to stay in bed and leave Bria to her appointment alone. 

—————

this is the first time im trying out this kind of pov so I really hope everyone like it! thank you sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any ideas you want to share!

#anon #writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry blurb #harry fluff #tattoo artist harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #tattoo artist harry styles #harry styles fluff #harrys house #love on tour #as it was #satellite

[navybrat817]

No Other Love

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to surprise you with a romantic evening.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, slight feels (it’s me, okay), Bucky Barnes being romantic (he’s a warning, okay?).

A/N: I received some sad news and almost didn't post, but I wanted to share something that brought happy tears to my eyes with Stud. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky sent you to your room and wouldn’t tell you why. He had a surprise planned for you and refused to give you any sort of a hint. He only said he debated kicking you out for a few hours, but didn’t want to risk you getting back too early or late. Oh, and he asked you to put on a dress. Your boyfriend had a romantic plan in mind and you wouldn't deny his request.

You did, however, demand snacks while you waited.

“You want me to feed you just because I’m asking you not to go into the kitchen or dining area for a bit?” he smiled when you pointed to the pantry.

“If I can’t leave my room, I will need sustenance,” you replied.

Just like you didn’t argue about his surprise plans, he didn’t argue when he handed over the food.

“What is he doing out there?” you mumbled to yourself, crossing your arms. You debated pressing your ear against the door to listen, but your stealthy boyfriend managed to keep quiet. “Can I come out now?!” you called out.

“No! Don’t distract me!” he yelled back.

You huffed and flopped back against the pillow. It wasn’t that you didn’t like surprises. You just preferred knowing things. Blame it on your curious nature. It was one of the reasons you enjoyed studying. Expanding your mind and absorbing knowledge centered you. With surprises, however, the only option you had was to wait.

But it’s worth it because it’s Stud.

“‘Don’t distract me.’ Like you haven’t distracted me when I have things to do,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed a book from your nightstand. “Menace of a boyfriend.”

“You talking about me?” he shouted as you mindlessly flipped through the pages.

How the hell…?

“No! Just reading! Get back to work or whatever it is that you’re doing!”

“You trust me, right?” He asked.

Even though he couldn't see your face, you smiled. “Completely,” you answered.

If there was anyone in the world you trusted with your entire being, it was Bucky.

“Then trust that this will be worth it.”

“You got it, Stud!” you said, assuming he went back to work since he chuckled and didn't say anything else.

You passed the time with your book before you got up to look in the mirror. Since Bucky didn’t say what kind of dress to wear, you picked something simple and blue. You loved the color before, but he made you appreciate it more. You felt peace when you looked into his eyes.

Trust, loyalty, love.

You just finished spritzing a bit of perfume on your neck when Bucky knocked on the door. Instead of opening it as you expected, he slid a piece of paper under it instead. As you moved closer, you realized it was shaped like a puzzle piece. Smiling, you picked it up to read the message he wrote.

In my wildest dreams, I never thought someone as amazing as you would come into my life. I hope I’m your dream come true and better than any book boyfriend you've read about.

Oh, Bucky.

With misty eyes, you read the message again and traced the letters with your finger. Bucky was the best boyfriend in the universe and you didn’t think that just because he was yours. Any girl would be lucky to have a man like him by his side. Someone loving and steadfast and true.

“Count to ten and then come out,” Bucky said through the door as you composed yourself.

After silently counting to ten as he instructed, you opened the door with a gasp. Bucky took your apartment, one you saw daily, and transformed it. Fairy lights, adjustable lamps, and candles replaced the normally brightly lit place. You could see blankets and pillows ready in the living room for cuddling and hopefully more. And the scent of freshly baked pizza filled the air.

Best meal ever.

“Bucky?” you asked when you didn’t see him. Was he hiding? You didn’t even see Alpine or Soot. Maybe he put them in his room. You almost called for Bucky again before you spotted another piece of paper on the floor a few feet in front of your door and went to pick it up.

Before I met you, I never knew what it was like to smile for no reason. And I found the reason for my smile the day I found you. Like when I think of that cute look you get on your face when you put a puzzle together.

You held the sheet close to your chest as you found another in the direction of the kitchen, smiling as you went to retrieve it. This was like a treasure hunt, a puzzle you couldn’t wait to complete. Bucky was the “X” that marked the spot.

If I write your name in the sand, it will wash away. If I write it in the clouds, it will blow away. So I wrote it in my heart where it will always stay in my care. Just like I promised your parents.

I’m going to be a blubbering mess if he keeps this up.

“Wise men say.”

You walked into the kitchen as “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” filled the room, where Bucky was waiting for you. The song you danced to before you became a couple, one that would forever hold a special place in your heart. And it was as if all the oxygen was sucked from the room as you took in the sight of your boyfriend. Instead of sweatpants or jeans, he wore slacks and a button up shirt. The blue matched your dress. That’s how in sync the two of you were.

He even styled his hair for me.

"Hey, Smartie," he said, his voice gentle as he smiled and nodded to the ground in front of him where another piece of paper lay waiting. “You look beautiful.”

"Thank you, Stud," you smiled, sniffling as you bent down to pick it up. "These messages are beautiful, but are you trying to make me cry? Because if so, well done and it's a good thing I didn't overdo it on the makeup. I'd be a mess."

He laughed, the sound making butterflies flutter in your stomach. "Only if they're tears of joy or pleasure. And you don't need to wear any makeup because you're beautiful," he replied, heat rushing through your body before you read the message.

Love is two people dancing in the kitchen. May I have this dance?

You lifted your gaze to find Bucky holding out his hand. “I’d love to,” you said, setting the pieces of paper on the counter before you joined him. There was no way you would refuse, easily taking his hand for him to pull you into his arms. It was almost overwhelming the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world who mattered. If you ever needed to know what love looked like, you only had to gaze into Bucky's eyes.

Am I worthy of such devotion?

"You really are good on your feet,” you said as he began to lead you in a dance.

"I'm even better off my feet," he winked, making you laugh before he spun you away from him, only to pull you back. "That was cheesier than the pizza waiting for us, wasn't it?"

“So cheesy. You had to ruin the moment,” you teased, giving him a coy smile. “So, what’s the special occasion for all this?”

You had a feeling why and wanted your instinct to be correct, but didn’t want to get your hopes up. Family wise, they were ready for you to take the next step. Your parents adored the hell out of Bucky. Becca welcomed you like a sister. Your friends, of course, were also supportive and ready for you to tie the knot.

“Do I need a reason to spoil my girl with an extra romantic pizza and movie night? I’m even letting you pick the movie, even though you chose last time.”

“How generous of you. And no, you don’t need a reason to spoil me,” you said. Even if he didn’t have something specific planned, he made you feel special just by calling you his girl. You knew, no matter how many years passed, the two of you would continue to find ways to make each other feel loved and cared for.

“Do you remember the day we met?” he asked, smiling as if the memory was playing in his mind. “I warned you that Alpine chased off the last person who came over to look at the place. I was worried for a second she'd try the same thing with you.”

“You did warn me,” you giggled. “And I just crouched down and stuck my hand out toward her.”

“She loved you from the start,” he said, pulling you closer as he brushed his mouth against your ear, the gentle tickle of his scruff making your eyes slip shut. “I think I loved you, too.”

Bucky and his perfect voice and perfect words and I'm about to cry all over again.

“You think you loved me from the moment you met me?” You asked, sniffling as he pulled back and nodded. “Because I think I loved you, too. Which sounds crazy, but we're both a little crazy in the best ways.”

We're a couple of dorks who found a way to fit together.

“We are a little crazy. And who would Stud be without his Smartie?" He asked, handing you a sheet that he seemed to pull out of thin air. “One more piece.”

My love for you is like a circle: It has no beginning and no end. And it would be an honor for you to wear my family ring.

Bucky dropped down to one knee and grasped your left hand as he took a box from his pocket. You couldn’t slow the beating of your heart as he looked up at you with loving eyes. “When I tried to think of the perfect proposal, I wanted it to be the kind you deserved. And I couldn’t get our apartment out of my head. This is where we met. The place where you became my roommate. And we made it a home together. You even fell in love with me. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m thankful every single day that you allowed me to love you, too.”

Your breath hitched when he opened the box. Even expecting it, your soul was ready to leave your body. “Bucky,” you whispered, a sob bursting from your throat when he tenderly smiled.

“My mom told me to give this to the person who stole my heart. You gave me the world when you gave me yours. And I promised your dad I'd always take care of you and love you the way you deserve. We’re made for each other and I don’t want to live a single day without you by my side.”

You could only cry when he removed the ring from the box. For him to think you were worthy of wearing something so significant and special to his family was a precious gift. One you would never let him question or regret. “I don’t want to either.”

“You're my missing piece. My forever. My Smartie,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you cried, your hand shaking a little as he slipped the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly, like it was made for you. Like you and Bucky were made for each other.

My missing piece. My forever. My Stud.

Bucky stood and leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips. You eliminated any distance between you by pressing your mouth to his. You clung to him, your mouth soft against his as he brought a thumb up to wipe away your tears. You drew back, your heart fluttering in your chest as he brought his lips to your damp cheek.

“I love you so much,” he breathed against your skin.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you whispered, bringing your mouth back to his. “I love you, too.”

You never could’ve imagined someone like Bucky in your wildest dreams. He was the reason you smiled, sometimes for no reason at all. You’d write his name on your heart and forever keep it there. You would dance with him in the kitchen or wherever he asked you to. Your love for him, like his love for you, was an unbreakable circle.

And you couldn’t wait to be his wife.

Yay! He proposed! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #roommate au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

[coralinnii]

being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy pt.2

feat. Azul, Kalim

note: this is kinda a long post, can be interpreted as gn!reader, reader is different for each character, I might write blurbs cuz I like the villain/ess genre

part 1 part 2 part 3

series masterlist

Did the universe hate you? You pondered your past life choices that may have condemned you into this hopeless situation. You didn’t even like this webtoon you unceremoniously got sent to because the main characters were nothing but self-centered idiots. Worse, you got reincarnated as the lovesick betrothed of the male lead, who was going to have their engagement annulled then be abandoned by your greedy family.

Really, the only reason you even kept reading was for the cool if somewhat dorky count who rose from a nobody to one of the successful business figures in the kingdom…Hey now…

So now you were sitting across from the one and only Azul Ashengrotto as he sized you up with a business smile as his servants prepared refreshments. For as confident as you try to be, the ball in his court and your future cushioned life is dependent on him. At least the twin brothers from that marquis family weren't here.

“So, what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

“I’m going to let you use me”

“Urk—!”

Ah, you should’ve waited until after he finished his tea.

Aside from your love life, you were winning in every other department. You were a high ranking noble as well as a beautiful social butterfly of high society. You weren’t ahead of the trends, you were the trend and since you knew the story of this world, you knew what were hits and misses in the market.

“I can give you want to know in the high social circle, whatever you have me wear or eat with my appraisal, I can make it the biggest trend of the season. All I want is a cut”

As skeptical as Azul was, he couldn’t disagree with your points and he was sure he could spin this partnership in his favor considering you were thought to be a lovesick puppy (hah, he thought). With a lengthy discussion on the contract (a meager 10% cut on your side? Really, Azul?), the two of you shook on it.

With a smile too innocent to be real, you offered “Should we go on a date?”

Oh, you were going to be the death of this man.

Your “dates” were just spending the day in the village disguised, surveying promising businesses, cuisines, and artisans (though a flustered count is also a win in your books). With your insights and Azul’s careful research, high society was eating out of your hands, waiting to see which business would receive his Midas’ touch.

You kept your contributions hidden as you didn’t want your family to monopolize your share and secretly hoped that your family and fiancé would still care for you even without these merits. Perhaps you were more hopeless than you realized.

While your soon-to-be husband was off somewhere without informing you (though you already knew where he was going, and who he was going to), you paid a visit to your favourite restaurant which happens to be owned by your favourite associates. The more you spend time with Azul and inevitably the Leech twins, the more you yearn for a life with this much joy.

“Hey Mandarin fishy” oh, Floyd is lucky he’s so adorable. “Your future hubby is awfully chummy with that little remora” he noted as he casually slung his legs over your own, sounding nonchalant but you could see the flicker of curiosity in his mismatched eyes. “You ain’t scared the love of your life’s gonna run away?”

You knew the story’s coming to its climax as the “love of your life” is messing around with that baron’s daughter. Soon, he will announce the annulment in front of everyone and you will be “abandoned” for his true love.

Your eyes then glanced over to your business partner discussing the logistics of the shipment of jewelry materials with the other marquis heir. Despite your casual nagging, you did admire the genuine effort the bespectacled businessman puts in. However, you could see the twitch towards your direction, curious of your thoughts as well.

“Cute” you hid your smile as you took a sip of your favourite blend of tea (how considerate of Azul), “If a little remora was enough to convince that idiot to make a fool of himself in front of our families, then I’d count it a blessing to be rid of him”

Floyd laughs at your heartless dismissal while even Jade let out a chuckle under his breath. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene before you, at the people you hope to call friends (and maybe more in the future with a certain someone). You saved enough to buy a quaint home in the capital (Azul recommended a home conveniently close to his own) and there were pre-orders of delectable tea that became a hit when a wealthy traveler from a foreign country offered a sample at the restaurant, being well handled by the fair-haired count in front of you, guaranteed to be ready for your next social tea party.

As you notice the subtle quirk of a genuine smile on your diligent business partner, you feel content with confirmation.

You definitely prefer smart men.

No, no, no, no! This can’t be real!

It’s one thing to reincarnate as a servant of a wealthy family, must you be reincarnated as the servant that gets executed for poisoning the oldest son?!

This was the start of the dramatic novel you just finished where you, a new servant of the Asim family, were in love with a greedy relative, who persuaded you to poison the heir to cause turmoil in the mansion. Your younger sibling was sick and your “lover” promised to give you and your sibling a good life if you succeed. Sadly, you knew you were just a scapegoat in their plan.

It hurts even more that the intended recipient of the poison was your bias, the lovable Kalim Al-Asim who doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body. But what could you do? The poison was in your hand and your execution was practically cemented, whether by the hands of the Asim family or by your “beloved”.

Feeling hopeless, you submit yourself in front of Kalim, his father, and his attendants with the vial in hand. You confessed the plan to poison the heir, how that traitor promised to save your sibling if you followed them. You pray that maybe they would banish you and you could run away with your sibling, for however long you could before that relative would eventually eliminate you.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until the fair-headed heir cradled your face in his hands and wiped your tears from your glassy eyes, his own scarlet eyes watery.

“I’ll save you and your family!”

Unable to change Kalim’s decision, your attempt of treason was overlooked, and Kalim even sent the best doctors to see your sibling.

Shoot, this man sure knew how to capture your heart.

Of course, your testament isn’t enough to prosecute the greedy relative so you offered yourself as a poison tester should they attempt the second time. If the story stays on path, that traitor isn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Since then, you worked to prove yourself a devoted servant to the Asim family, especially to Kalim who brings you around to try every cuisine and street food that tickles his fancy. Even Jamil, who was very skeptical of your motives, deemed you harmless (apparently, he decided he could easily disarm you if you do attempt anything).

What made you and Kalim really close (though Kalim was a fairly affectionate man to begin with) was when you offered to help with his studies. You were familiar with certain subjects as they were similar in your old world and having someone around helps the energetic heir to focus. Every time Kalim would call your name with that bright grin of his never fails to bring out a smile of your own.

Your closeness with the oldest son did not go unnoticed. Soon, the traitorous relative came up to you as you were on your way to see Kalim. They gave you a second chance, to kill Kalim then they would forgive you after your failed poisoning attempt. Obviously, you told them to f*ck off stop their plans and leave before you call the guards.

Suddenly, your vision and body became disorientated as you fall to the floor with a sting on your cheek.

“You insolent commoner! You think anyone would care if you get hurt or even die? Don’t make me laugh!”

They slapped you. Your body is shaking from the shock of such sudden violence. You looked up and saw the traitor standing over you with rage as they raised their hand again. You were too slow to stand so you had no choice but close your eyes and grit your teeth as you anticipated the next hit.

Except it never happened.

Instead you were gently lifted to your feet. You turned to see Jamil assisting you to your feet as guards surrounded you and the traitor, with Kalim standing between the two of you.

You have never seen the usually jolly heir like this. His laid-back demeanor was almost non-existent as he kept his weapon pointed at his relative with a glare that seemed deadlier and sharper.

“You…” you've never imagined such an icy tone from your master, even at his worst until now. “You may be family, but I will never forgive you for hurting my precious treasure”

With his command, you saw the traitor pulled away to his awaited fate. Kalim then turned to you and he worriedly rushed to you, cradling your face in his hands to inspect your injury. It’s funny. It’s just like when you first met him.

“Master Kalim, thank you so much” you wanted to say more but honestly, you couldn’t find the words to truly express how much you love this man.

With his show of his signature grin, he replied “Of course, I’ll always save you”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst imagines #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #villainess au #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

[navstuffs]

ezio auditore x shy!fem!reader ?

Il Dottoressa

Pairing: AC2!Ezio x ShyFem!Reader

Summary: Ezio has a crush on you, the doctor's daughter; or where Ezio gets hurt on purpose to see you.

Warnings: non-canon compliance, non-history compliance (i had to adapt), LONG ONE-SHOT, no description of reader, FLUFF, blood, injuries, italian translated using translator

Author's Notes: hii, thank you so much for requesting <3! i hope you enjoy reading it because i had tons of fun writing it! just a reminder: my requests for ezio are still open! click here for more info!

You should consider yourself a lucky woman. Your father Giuseppe was a man of Science, a doctor who always cared about your well-being and education, especially after your mother's death. He didn't obligate you to wed or have kids like most parents.

For him, for you to carry the family's legacy was to become a doctor. So you did your best to learn as much as possible, in secret. To the rest of society, your father suggested you be portrayed just as his errand daughter. Nobody knew the full extent of your abilities. So you advised treatments, assisted your dad in the shop he had, and turned out to be every child's favorite doctor. They were easier to talk to than most adults. You meet Ezio on your first day alone at the shop. Your dad had to help a patient with an urgent matter in another town and gave you clear instructions on how to proceed.

"They will try to bargain but do not drop the price too much. Let them think they got a deal."

The day went by relatively easy. Two regular clients pass by to get some medicine and talk a little. After a few hours of boredom, you open a book and let your eyes wander through the pages. Your dad may allow you to help with surgery next time if you gather more knowledge. You also needed to focus on having a steady hand...

"Scusi."

Startled by the sudden voice, you held your book close to your chest so it wouldn't fall. When you turn around, you immediately recognize the man: Ezio Auditore. Your dad had alerted you about him: the questionable man with a white robe and hood that always paid the total price. Your dad ordered you not to over-extend the conversation with the strange man. Your attention goes to his arm, where he was holding a torn, bloody sleeve. You don't need to predict he will ask you for a curative. You point to the chair, and Ezio sinks into the chair.

You get some alcohol and some clean cloths. You have no reason to be afraid or nervous; you are in the middle of town, and the man won't do anything. And now, most importantly, he was a patient.

Ignoring your internal concerns, you focused on working. His torn sleeve was soaked with blood, but you no longer saw any blood dropping out of the cut, so you concentrated on cleaning the blood from the injury with alcohol. Like most people, Ezio didn't react to the pain, so you continued. Then you begin to wrap his arm in a bandage. That cut had to be done with a sharp spear.

"Where is the other Signore that stays here?" Ezio asked, his voice sounding tired.

"My father had business somewhere else," You responded, focusing on finishing the bandage. When you are done, you make sure it was all secured. Looked perfect.

"So I won't lose my arm anytime soon, Signorina?" Ezio attempted to joke, giving you a faint smile, and you ignored him. You placed your stuff on the shop's cart and waited as he checked your work.

"Grazie. I haven't seen any women doctors around town. What is your name?"

"It will be 30 florins, Signore."

"Va bene," Ezio put the money in your hand, and you counted. It seems he gave you an extra five florins. He was already gone when you lifted your head, disappearing in the middle of the people. You want to call his name and catch up to him, but you shake your head. He either purposely did that, or it was just a mistake. 

After that day, your dad decided you could stay in the shop alone. You were so excited and thrilled. Your dad could now go to another town as a doctor while you cared for his business. 

You glow with pride and happiness. You see Ezio Auditore once or twice, jumping around buildings, doing who-knows. He didn't seem to notice you, which you thanked mentally. You had asked your dad what exactly Ezio was doing, and your dad affirmed it was neither your business nor his to know, it just looked dangerous. Ezio only appeared in his shop with parts of his body hurt, cut, bruised, or broken more than the average person. As curious as you are to ask, you understand your dad is done with this conversation.

The next time you see Ezio, he has a dislocated shoulder. You try to give him something to bite, but he shakes his head, gritting his teeth. You want to ask how he got this, but it is not your place. When you pop his shoulder back into place, Ezio grunts. You recommend that he avoid using that shoulder for more vigorous activities. Ezio gives you a half-smile as if he knows something you don't.

"It will be 50 florins this time."

You feel he gives you more florins when he hands you the money.

"You are giving me too much, Signore."

"As a thank you. Can't I do that?"

You don't really know how to respond to that. It is his money. Extra money even. Before you can answer, he grabs your hand and kisses it lightly. You freeze in your spot, unable to move.

"Name is Ezio Auditore. Can you tell me yours?"

It is your first time giving a good look at Ezio Auditore. He seems to have brown hair. He has a scar across his lips, now with what appears to be a naughty smile, which just makes him more charming. He is staring at you, really staring at you. You want to protest, but your voice dies down your throat. You gulp, trying to find something to say, but nothing comes out.

"We shall see each other around, Dottoressa."

And you do end up seeing him, now what it seemed once at least every week. Ezio appears with a horrible bruise on his back and watches, delighted, as you look away, mortified, when he lifts his robe. He appears a few days later with a raspy cough. Then, comes back three days later, alleging he fell to his head and had a horrible headache. You want to ask him if there are no other doctors in town, but hold your tongue. And Ezio was sincerely trying to make you smile and laugh most of the time.

Like when he appeared with a bow attached to his back. You took it out carefully, ensuring you didn't hurt him too much or cause him to die. Besides, you were thankfully thanking his presence at this point: the rate Ezio got injured, he would end up being your first surgery.

"Does it look like I die today, Dottoressa?" He exclaims as you finish cleaning the hole. Why he has to say that in such a sexy way?

"Not today, Signore Auditore."

"Ezio," He corrects you, as the other times, and you roll your eyes, ignoring him. When you are done, Ezio gives you more money than he should.

"I should not go far, probably. I will get hurt and come here for you to repair me." You answer him with a half-smile, too nervous to say anything else. You know he is getting hurt on purpose; he probably knows that as well, and instead of sending him away, you continue seeing him.

"Oh, mhm, I almost forgot," Ezio taps his body, takes out a book, and handles it to you. It seems to be about different kinds of poisons and diseases.

"What is this?"

"For you, Dottoressa. I have seen you read books about it and presumed you would like it."

You are surprised, flipping over the book with care. It looks expensive and updated. That would help you so much with your studies. You couldn't believe Ezio got you something like this.

"Signore Ezio, I can't accept it. "

"Per favore?" Ezio's voice sounds like he imploring, "You have done so much for me. It is the least I can do."

You want to say no and argue that he has already given you more money than he should, but Ezio appears so anxious for your answer. You feel the heavy book in your hands, and your desire gets the best of you. You nod, and Ezio's worried expression turns into a big smile.

"I will see you around, Dottoressa."

"Grazie, Ezio." You finally say when he is too far away to hear it.

After that, your relationship with Ezio got closer. Although you hadn't said your name, he seemed satisfied to watch you flustered when he called you "Mia Dottoressa favorita" or "Il Dottoressa Bella." Or when he continued to bring you more books. When you finally open them at home, they would have different flowers inside.

It wasn't hard to keep all of that hidden from your dad. Your father was out of town almost daily, traveling around Italy. It was also challenging to just not tell Ezio your name. Before, it was for your sense of security, but now, there wasn't much reason to keep it hidden. Ezio was nearly like a friend. Yes, he could be cocky and a little show-off, but he also had a gentle and entertaining side. He could listen to you speak for hours about how crazy the human body could be. He never interrupted you or seemed bored. On the contrary, it was like nothing else existed except for you. 

"Are you going to be a Dottoressa at the end?"

"Si, Signore Ezio. Your books are helping me a lot." You confessed, feeling breathless like always when he was around. Gathering all your courage, you finally ask him, "Can I ask you something?"

"Si?" Ezio's gaze looks full of hope.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to. Why are you always so hurt? Who are you fighting?"

Ezio ponders for a moment before answering.

"For mi familia. I would tell you more, but- " You certainly felt like you shouldn't have asked now. Idiota, you think.

"Well, if that might help you... I am your Dottoressa after all."

"Oh, you are my Dottoressa?" The way he emphasized the word my! You wish a hole had just opened in the ground so that it could eat you as a whole. This was something regular now: Ezio always says or does something to leave you without words. One of those days, you will gather all your courage and do the same to him. 

But until then, you are happy that Ezio sticks around. Always afraid he will be one of these days badly hurt, and you won't be around to help him. You could only hope he would always come back to you.

EPILOGUE:

You are almost home when a few guards rush in your direction, screaming and pointing at the sky. With your heart shrinking, you look up, wishing that Ezio is safe tonight. Almost at your door, you hear a loud thumb next to a haystack pile. Looking around and assuring there is no one, you investigate the origin of the noise. To your surprise, you see Ezio badly injured. You run to kneel at his side, checking the extension of his wounds. It doesn't look well.

Merda merda.

"Ezio? Can you hear me?" He is semi-conscious, his eyes struggling to stay open. You can hear more guards getting close. With no choice and all your strength, you pull his body towards the haystack, hiding and praying that the guards won't see the trail of blood behind you.

The guards finally arrive, and your heart bumps against your chest as they investigate everywhere. You feel Ezio's rapid breath as you lightly place your hand on his chest as if keeping you there alive with you.

Ezio moans low, and you bend to his ear, whispering frantically.

"Shhh, I am here, Ezio, it is me. We will be okay."

When the guards finally leave, after what seems to take an eternity, you leave the haystack pile, making sure no one is around. Not hearing anyone, you hurry back to Ezio, attempting to make him fully conscious.

"Ezio, per favore, you have to focus on me. On my voice. We need to get you out of there, we need to bring you inside!"

"Dottoressa?" His voice sounds so weak it just breaks your heart. You hold his cheek, and his skin feels hot. A fever? What if he has been poisoned? You have to get him in your house, but you are afraid to pull him, and he dies, afraid you might be found by the Guards, and he dies. 

There is no time for this, Dottoressa. This is your patient, and you better save him. 

You pull Ezio's body with your arms to your house entrance. With difficulty, you place him on an old sofa-like, not caring about the mess. With not a lot of options, you rip his destroyed robe and his shirt. At this point, Ezio is shaking with cold, despite his body being extremely hot. You start disinfecting his injuries, checking how bad they are. It doesn't seem that he was punctured. While you clean, you notice the rest of his body for damages. You take his boots out, and with hands shaking, you rip his pants. Praying mentally for no injuries, you cut until his upper thigh. Nothing. Relieved, you focus on his head, letting go of his ponytail. No extensive injuries. Good. You continue cleaning and give him some medicine for his fever, covering his body with a clean sheet.

You let yourself get distracted by how long his hair is. You always theorized it was much shorter. You pass your finger through his hair, and Ezio lets out a long sigh. 

You know the following hours will be crucial. Ezio might react badly; you must stay awake if he needs you. If he was poisoned, he might respond during the night. You bring a chair close to Ezio, watching him peacefully sleep. You implore him to survive. You plead for him to be healthy. 

When Ezio wakes up in the morning, he is immediately aware of being in a strange house, not a cell. He tries to move, but his body just hurts so much. Last night, when he was on his way to see you with a small cut on his finger, he ended up getting in the middle of a mess. After fighting his way out, he was still followed. Tired and exhausted, he didn't know the extent of his injuries until he passed out and fell from the top of a building.

He examines around, finding you sound asleep in a chair. How he ended up there? Ignoring the pain in his body, Ezio sits down, roaming his eyes through his body. It could have been worse. He lifts the sheet, notices you cut his pants down and chuckles low. That seems to wake you up, and Ezio feels slightly guilty about it. 

"Dottoressa?" He calls you. You promptly get up, touching his head and arms to check for any signs of fever. Looks normal. You were glad you didn't choose the leeches last night.

"How are you feeling, Ezio?"

"I am fine, probably thanks to you. How?"

"I heard something falling from a building last night. When I went to check, I saw you badly injured. Had to hide in a haystack while the guards were looking for you. Brought you here and kept an eye on you for the rest of the night."

"How come if you have slept, Dottoressa?" He jokes, and you laugh, glad to see him alive.

"Now I owe you my life. How much is this even going to cost me, Dottoressa? Am I going bankrupt?" Ezio questions in a teasing tone.

"N-no? I am just glad you are alright, Ezio. I was so afraid last night that you were going to di-"

"You saved me, mia bella. Just to prove you should be my particular Dottoressa. Not anybody else's. Mine." He provokes you again, confident that you wouldn't answer.

"Do you want me? To be just yours?" It is funny to watch Ezio lose all the color on his face. For the first time, he is the stunned one, left without an answer, "What happened, Ezio Auditore? Is something wrong with your tongue? Should I check for you?"

You don't know if it is last night's stress or Ezio looking like he is losing his mind, but you laugh until your belly hurts. Ezio is confused at first but smiles, understanding your joke.

"Very good, mia cara. Very good. Joking with my feelings like that. I could have died last night, you know."

Cleaning the tears in the corner of your eyes, you pull your chair close to his. Ezio observes, curious, while you grab and hold his hand into yours.

"I wasn't joking when I said I could be yours."

Your confession makes Ezio's mouth drop slightly, but he quickly recomposes himself. He cleans his throat, with his other free hand calling you closer. You get up from the chair, your legs shaking, and he starts by caressing your chin. You close your eyes, and Ezio follows his touch to your cheeks and lips. He traces your lips with his fingers, admiring you as the most beautiful piece of art he has ever seen.

You melt in his arms when he brings you closer and finally kisses you. Holding into his shoulder gently, you kiss him back, letting yourself fully stroke his hair. Ezio's hands are placed on your cheeks. When you two finally break apart, you are both breathless, wishing for more. Your heart, your soul, asks for more.

"Dottoressa.."

You shake your head, smiling, and finally tell Ezio your name.

MASTERLIST | EZIO'S MASTERLIST

#ezio auditore x you #ezio auditore x reader #ezio x reader #ezio x you #ezio auditore da firenze x reader #ezio auditore da firenze x you #assassins creed x reader #im happy with how this one turned out #i hope i nailed the shyness and i hope anon likes this! #asks #ask #requests

[lanas-delight]

invisible string

♫ rec: invisible string by taylor swift

✰ an enhypen scenario || fem!reader x sunghoon, feat. made up friends & the members

✰ description — you always believed in luck over fate—until you met him.

✰ warnings — some language, some angst, but mainly just teeth-rotting fluff

✰ notes — inspired by invisible string by taylor swift (yes i listen to taylor swift). anyways, enjoy!!

Luck was what you believed in—not fate. You would call it dumb luck, not “meant to be.” Your parents met by luck, a sweet story how one only met the other because they were lucky enough to miss their train and meet their soulmate while waiting for the next one. It was luck, and you were sure of it. Your parents always said that the saying about things only happen for a reason was wrong, that if you’re lucky, you’ll be just fine. You thought it wasn’t all that fair, but who were you to judge?

You made every decision with perfect judgment, never acted impulsively unless it was just to buy a snack instead of saving money, but you were careful, cautious so you wouldn’t have to use luck. You would just have to be patient.

You never dated, it was something that you didn’t think about much. Your friends were all dating, one was even engaged, and you were the maid of honor, but you didn’t have a date. You had no “dance partner,” she called it. Your best friend, the bride, then said your date could be the best man. You were skeptical, but to please her, you agreed.

You planned to meet him at the nearest diner, maybe food would calm your nerves. Though, you hadn’t seen what he looked like, you just knew his last name. Not his first, just his last. Not even the bride knew her future husband’s best friend at all. What were you to do? Sit alone with a sign that has his last name written in bold on it, hoping he’ll walk right over—like that isn’t crazy and stalker-like.

You were told he was “a bit of egotistical asshole,” which didn’t help your worries at all, but you were just desperate to be alone at your best friend’s wedding. It was stupid, and you felt stupid, but however this “cold-hearted player” guy (you were told a LOT of things about him except his name..) may be like, you were just hoping he wasn’t that way to you.

There, at the diner, you went in and waited, ordering a cup of tea to keep you company while you waited, and waited. It was to the point you sat there, reading a book tediously, about to give up. Your tea was just about gone and the waitress was bringing another cup to you.

“What are you reading?”

A voice rang out in front of you, one that sounded like honey, but was deep like a melancholic poem. Mist on a summer’s evening, a gentle breeze in the spring. You looked up, and met eyes with a tall, dark-haired boy with a lazy smile on his face, his teeth barely showing between his lips—it was quick to notice that he had fangs, not like a vampire, though. His skin wasn’t as pale as everyone else’s in the diner, he looked active and that he loved the outdoors. He had bigger hands, long fingers and red knuckles, maybe he did pottery or worked some construction before. He had on a loose, white long-sleeve shirt and black pants, like he had just left church. A lot of assumptions, but that’s what you did best. You were sure you’d be lucky enough to be right on most of them.

“Oh, uhm,” you placed your thumb in between the pages of the book, closing it to show him the cover, “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo,” you answered, “my friend suggested it to me.”

His face lights up a bit, and he gestures to the seat ahead of you. You nod after a moment, so he sits and smiles, “I just finished it the other week, how do you think of it so far?” You wondered if he was gay for a second, but you shrugged it off.

“I really like it,” you smiled, “I worried it wouldn’t be all that great, despite all of it’s overwhelming great reviews, but I really like it so far.”

He nodded, “It’s great, yeah,” he looks at the book, “What chapter are you on?”

“Three. I just started this morning,” you lightly rubbed your thumb on the paperback cover. You thinned your lips, “Did you sit here just to talk about the book?—Not that I have a problem with that,” you chuckled nervously.

He shrugged, “Yes and no,” he twiddled his fingers some on the table, “That, and well, I thought you were really pretty,”

Your eyebrows lifted a little, “You think I’m pretty?” He looked up at you, almost offended at first.

“‘Course I do,” he smiled, “Do you think you’re pretty?”

“You’re a flirt,” you ignored his question, scoffing, but he continued to smile. He had a nice smile.

“Only with pretty girls,”

“There’s plenty of those,”

“Well only you caught my eye,” he admired your face, “I’m not too good with flirting, but I’m flattered you see how I talk as flirting.”

You rolled your eyes, “How is that a compliment?”

He shrugged, “You think I have game,”

“Wow,” You laughed, “You’re confident,”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “I’m just myself.” He reached his hand across the table, open for a hand shake, which you obliged.

Your eyes were stuck on him like glue, “I’m Y/N,” you say, and his eyes light up a little, like there was beauty to your name and it sang with harmony in his ears. “And you are?”

“Sunghoon,” he kept your hand in his for a second more, then he glanced around, “You wanna get out of here?”

But you halted, “Oh, I’m actually—” you checked the time on your phone, it had been well over an hour since you were supposed to meet that other guy so there was nothing better to do. “Yeah,” you nodded your head, “I’d like that.” And he smiled.

“You’re crazy,”

“Am I?” He was holding your hand, but that’s not what you were calling him crazy for. Instead, it was for how he was wanting to try this kind of rice a couple blocks away from the diner you two had met at, dragging you all the way there with his hand tied to yours. Experimental—you never liked to try new things, but for some reason, you felt at ease with him. Like the world was floating, yet you kept in control of it. It felt so normal, not like you had just met him 30 minutes ago.

“Yeah, I would think so,” you both stopped in front of the food stand, waiting in a short line. The stand looked familiar, you were sure you’ve seen it before somehow. “You made me walk three blocks just to get rice? I don’t—”

“Shh,” he shushed you, “You’ll understand why,” almost implying he’s tried this rice before, but once it was your turn, he ordered for you, paid, and sat down with you at the nearest bench. Shoulder to shoulder, he handed you chopsticks and you both shared the bowl of rice, “I need a full evaluation afterwards,” he says, covering his mouth, it was full of rice.

You took your first bite, humming, then nodding. “Oh my god,” you say, “this is amazing,”

“Right?” Sunghoon laughed, his eyes crinkling a little, “I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you took another bite, “thank you.”

“For . . . ?” He looked a little surprised, which confused you mostly so you repeated yourself.

“Thank you,” you say again, “for all of this.”

Sunghoon smiled. “Don’t thank me just yet,” he says, “It’s not the end.”

You furrowed your brows, “End of what?”

“Our first date,” he answers confidently, “I have somewhere else to take you next,”

But you were appalled, “First date? I never said yes to a date?”

“Do you not want this to be a date?” He takes another bite, “Hm?” He tilted his head some, your eyes meeting with his. They were a dark chocolate color, warm and deep, you could drown in them and be just fine never coming back up for air.

“Well, I didn’t say that,” you grinned, take another bite. He was gazing at you, lovestruck but he didn’t know he loved you, but he was sure he would. You were starting to think that way, too.

After the rice, he took you to this aquarium, paid for you and joked when he asked you to pay him back. You actually planned to, but knew he wouldn’t accept it. He was a gentleman, a kind one that had a smile to warm, you would be just fine on a freezing, winter day. You had never loved anyone before, but you were starting to think that maybe this could be the beginning. You’ve told him stories, he’s told you some. You had completely forgotten about that best man you were supposed to meet, but that didn’t matter anymore.

Because you had met him.

For the next few weeks, you and Sunghoon went on a good handful of dates, all around the city, alone and not a word spoken to anyone about them so it would be more intimate, only about you both and no one else. You were getting to know each other, not exactly official but not looking anywhere else either.

Everything felt so right. He would tell you about places you always went to, and you would do the same for him. It felt that that any of those times, you could’ve met him, like you were both parallel lines that finally joined together to form a heart.

You had told him before on one of the dates, how much you valued luck and chance, rather than what was meant to be or not to be. He was the opposite—he believed in soulmates and what the universe may give you. He had a good argument, but so did you, though it wasn’t a dealbreaker or anything. He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend, but he referred to you as his girl often.

However, there was one date you would have to wait to have as the wedding was the following day and you were talking with your best friend, trying to calm her nerves for her big day. You hadn’t told her about him yet, but you were sad because he had other (pre-you) plans that next day so he couldn’t be your date either.

“You’ll do just fine, F/N,” you tell her reassuringly, “Jay’s not going to care if your hair’s not absolutely perfect.”

“You don’t know that!” She exclaims, sitting down on the couch across from you.

You stared, “Well do you know that?”

She covered her face, “No, but”

“F/N, he’s universally in love with you. There is nothing that can keep that man from marrying you tomorrow,” you tell her, though she still shakes with anxiety. She pushes her hair back a little as she leans back up. “Besides, you’ll look amazing no matter what. He’d marry you in a trash bag.”

She laughed, “God, you’re right. I don’t know why I’m stressing so much about this.” She pulls her hair back into a loose ponytail, “You sure you’re okay with no date tomorrow?”

You shrugged, “I guess I have to be. He never showed up at the diner so I guess I’ll just have to hook arms with the best man, ignore the elephant in the room, and then die alone.”

“You’re not going to die alone,” she tells you, “Maybe he forgot or something,”

“Didn’t you say he was a douche anyways? A player? Maybe I dodged a bullet,” you sat back in your chair.

“I know. But don’t worry, tomorrow will be just fine, yeah?” She smiles, but you click your tongue.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe I should take your job!”

“Oh whatever,” you sigh, “Everything will be just fine. Don’t you worry, okay?” And she nodded before both of you headed to bed, anticipating the next day where one of you will be married and the other, alone.

The next day, everyone was already starting to gather around, taking their seats. Your best friend always wanted a beach wedding, so there it was, an arch covered in vines and white roses at the end of an aisle between rows of white chairs. It was beautiful, little white rose pedals spread on the sand, leading up to where the groom stood.

You were in the dressing room with your best friend, already dressed as you helped her finish up getting ready. You had just sent a text to Sunghoon about your day, which he replied and said he hoped he could’ve been there, too. You were a bit sad, but you didn’t let it bother you all that much. It wasn’t your wedding day, after all.

Once it was time for the ceremony, you held your hands together in front of you nervously, waiting at the front of a line coming from the right, while the line coming the left was the groomsmen, where the best man was nowhere to be seen. You honestly hoped he wouldn’t show, just in case you wanted to beat his ass if you saw him, but nothing could have ever prepared you for the following moments. The flower girls, your best friend’s neices, got in front of you and the best man who had just appeared, but you paid no attention and stared forward, waiting for it all to start.

A light melody begins to echo with the wind from the piano. You reach your elbow out, waiting for the best man to hook his arm with yours, but familiarity struck once he did. You looked over, just as the flower girls started to go down the aisle, and you saw him. You saw Sunghoon, the previously labeled “cold-hearted player” that was so egotistical, you’d want to rip your hair out. He was the douchebag, and you couldn’t believe it.

“Sunghoon?” You whispered, just as both of you started to walk down the aisle together slowly. He looked over at you, then blinked a couple times.

“Y/N? You’re— You’re the maid of honor.” An obvious observation, but he was in shock, honestly.

“What’s your last name?”

“What?”

“Last name.”

“Park.”

Oh fuck.

“You’re the best man that stood me up.”

“Stood you up—” He scoffed in disbelief, “I met with you, didn’t I?”

You shook your head, “You didn’t tell me.”

Sunghoon knitted his brows together, “I didn’t know? And you didn’t tell me either,” he remarks, all of the conversation being in a whisper as you both made it down the aisle. At the end, you two parted ways and went to the opposite sides of the altar. The other groomsmen and bridemaids all follow suite and the ceremony begins with the bride walkong down the aisle, the light melody transitions into the wedding march as all rose from their seats and watched her approach her soon-to-be husband at the altar.

It was beautiful, each vow perfectly written and spoken to one another, and there, the couple were married and everyone cheered and clapped.

It was wonderful, but your mind was elsewhere. All you have come to know about Sunghoon, could have just as easily been a lie—egotistical, asshole, cold-hearted, player—was any of it true at all?

After the ceremony and into the reception, Sunghoon tried to talk to you a few times, but ultimately stopped when you ignored him every time and gave all of your attention to your busy friend, who was the happiest girl in the room.

You didn’t want to talk to Sunghoon. You didn’t want to look at him, or even think of him at all. You had no idea what to think of everything now. Was he really like that? Even his best friend said that stuff . . . You really hoped this was your happy ending, but maybe your luck just ran out.

It had been two weeks since the wedding. Your best friend and her new husband had gone off to their honeymoon, so you basically worked, went home and slept, then went back to work the next day. You made sure there was no chance you could see Sunghoon—ever. You didn’t hate him, moreso that you couldn’t, because there was something inside your heart that didn’t want you to hate him.

It was late, it was just a Thursday after work where you stuck overtime for the past four hours. It didn’t help that it had started raining heavily on your drive home. You pulled into the apartment’s parking lot, then searched frantically for a jacket or an umbrella, but found nothing to your surprise. You were normally prepared for stuff like this, but it had slipped your mind that you had taken in your umbrella the other day, forgot it on the dinner table, and your jacket was probably sitting in the dryer. Sunghoon would’ve reminded you to grab them. He always watches the weather. He’d know. You huffed and got out of your car quickly, trying to rush in before you got soaked, but just as you got out of the car and shut the door, there he was, standing there like some dramatic movie scene.

“What the hell are you doing?” You call out to him, “You’re going to get sick, you’re not even wearing a jacket!”

“You aren’t either!” He called back out to you, the rain growing harder and harder. “Y/N, listen to me okay? I—”

“No, no I don’t want to hear your excuses,”

“I don’t have excuses,” Sunghoon stated out, “I don’t have anything to say that would ever excuse my mistakes, but that’s the past. I’ve changed, and I don’t want to be that version of myself ever again.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re insane.”

He shockingly smiled, “Insane, crazy, stupid—you can call me whatever you want, Y/N, but I’m never going to stop feeling the way I do about you.” A strong declaration, but that wasn’t as surprising as the words he spoke to you then.

“How—” you hitched your breath as you shook your head, “How am I supposed to believe that all the things they said aren’t true? That you were ‘such a player that you couldn’t find it in your cold heart to even care that you hurt them?’ How can I be sure you won’t do the same for me?”

Sunghoon stared into your eyes, distant but still warm. His heart couldn’t have ever been cold. None of it made any sense. God, the things your best friend and her husband keep running around your mind like a racecar track.

“Because I won’t. I haven’t done any of that in years. In high school, and college, I was an asshole and was convinced I was supposed to be the bad boy everyone’s scared of. I let them be scared of me because I thought no one could ever love me, and when someone did, I ran.” Sunghoon stepped towards you on the pavement, his hair wet and his clothes soaked. His face was flushed with pink, a gentleness in his eyes that only you could ever recognize. It was him. “You don’t have to forgive me, but I will do everything in my power to make up for it all.”

“Sunghoon . . .” You tried not to cry, “Our luck has run out,” you told him, but he wouldn’t hear you. He stepped even closer, standing right before you now, close enough to feel some rain droplets bounce off of him and onto you.

“No, there’s no luck, there’s no fate,” he tells you firmly, “All I know is that I’m falling in love with you, Y/N, and I’m willing to do anything for you.”

You felt the same way he did. Of course you did. There was no part of you that could ever hate him. You wanted him, and absolutely no one else. You didn’t care if you both died tomorrow, as long as you had him, you were just fine. You were more than fine. You were perfect, because of him.

You gave him a soft smile, “I’m falling in love with you, too.”

And he gave you this . . . smile.

It was that type of smile that warms your heart and eases your worries. it was one that you could never forget, one that will save you from your darkest nights, one that can heal your wounds and pain with just a glance. Your heart was beating so fast that you couldn't even get a decent breath. Your head was full of thoughts burning with anticipation as he slowly leaned in closer to you. Heat rose from your stomach to your chest and your heart definitely skipped a beat as you felt his breath on your cheeks. You watched his eyes flutter as he started to close in. That was it — at that very moment his lips brushed over yours like a wave of warmth and all of your body reacted to him instinctively. You raised your hands to his face, and kissed him like there was no tomorrow, but it was gentle, passionate, full of love. Time seemed to have just come to a great pause as we kissed. The taste of his lips silenced your thoughts.

The rain was so cold against your skin, but it didn’t bother you one bit. It didn’t seem to bother him much either. His hands went limp on your waist, but you lowered your hand and took one of his into your own, holding him close to you as your lips moved against each other. His other hand lightly pulled onto your shirt, but you tilted your head slowly and touched your lips to his for a second time, very carefully and gently as if you didn't want to break him with a single touch. The kisses began to slow after a short time, becoming tender and infinitely more. It was like you were growing more intimate. It was so easy to get lost in him, lost in his connection between the both of you.

Before, on those dates or whatever they were, you both were just friends. Friends who stared at each other a second too long. But as of this very moment, with your lips kissing his, he was no longer just your friend. Instead, he was now a lover. Your lover. He was your soulmate, as you were his.

You pulled away and stared into his eyes, and he just smiled at you, “Come on,” he whispered to you, “let’s get out of this rain,” and as you giggled, you both headed inside and out of the rain together.

The wedding was set for the spring. It had been a couple years since your best friend’s wedding and the whole declaration-turned-kiss-in-the-rain moment, and you couldn’t be happier. You had (mostly) everything finished for the wedding, even though it was in a couple months and you had plenty of time to add or change stuff.

Sunghoon helped as much as he could, though he knew how much you wanted to plan it so he would only offer his opinion when you asked. It was your day, he would say, but you would always tell him it was his day, too.

You still believed in luck, and he still believed in fate. You felt you were lucky to meet him, and he felt that it was always meant to happen anyways. You didn’t agree out loud, but you knew he was right (you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right). Because whether it was luck or fate, it was always him. It was always him you were going to love forever. And with that, you knew.

You were going to be just fine.

—————————————————————————

a/n — OKAY IM DONE W WEDDING STUFF the next fic will be something wayyyy different (itll probably be angst lolz) but NOT ABT A WEDDING. anyways, i hope u all enjoyed <3333

#enhypen #park sunghoon #sunghoon #jay #jay park #yang jungwon #jungwon #heeseung #lee heeseung #sunoo #kim sunoo #niki nishimura #niki #jake #sim jaeyun #jake sim #park jongseong #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #fluff #angst #mainly just fluff okay

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Soulmate AU - How the bond was discovered - Part 1

So sorry it took this long to get this out, but I had originally intended to keep this short. However, inspiration turned this into a long fic, so I'll be cutting it into parts. I have not finished it yet, but I intend it to have three parts.

Before you met your soulmate, you would have never expected to become the wife of a Targaryen prince. Being the daughter of a minor lord from the Riverlands, you were expected to marry according to your station. House Bracken, or maybe Blackwood, or even Tully, if you could ever be that lucky. Any of those would be great for you.

However, your father, being an ambitious man, took you with him to the capital, hoping you’d catch the eye of a powerful lord, bringing glory and prestige to your house with such a successful match. He made sure you were dressed in modest, yet attractive dresses and a few delicate jewelry, and he instructed you to be within sight of any prospective heirs, either walking up and down the hallways of the Red Keep, or standing close to the courtyard where the knights trained.

You did as he instructed, and you even managed to catch the eye of lord Borros Baratheon, which pleased your father greatly. You future seemed to be set in stone, and you had even tried to make your peace with it. Growing up you had dreamed of marrying for love, finding that one man who would look at you as if you were his entire world. You now knew of course that such thoughts were foolish dreams, so you compromised. After all, most girls would give up almost everything to become the wife of the lord of Storm’s End.

The day of the tourney organized to celebrate Queen Alicent’s nameday dawned, and you got dressed in your best dress, a violet one with silver flowers embroidered on the sleeves and hem. It was your favorite color ever since you could remember, so you chose it to make sure you made a good impression on lord Borros. He was going to compete in the tourney, so maybe if he won, he would crown you his Queen of Love and Beauty, which was as good as a proposal, according to your father.

You sat in the lower seats, closer to the tourney grounds, eager to see the fights. Most girls were quite squeamish, but not you. You longed to see these brave men compete against each other, like those you had read about in your books. There was even a rumor that prince Daemon, the King’s brother, would compete as well. Everyone at court spoke of him, of his rogue and wild ways. But they also spoke of his flirty nature, and his teasing of every pretty maiden he came across. Recently widowed, after his late wife died in a hunting accident not three moons past, he became the target of every unmarried maiden in court. Your father had warned you to stay away from him though, as it was known how he had disrespected the late lady Rhea Royce during their marriage. There were even rumors that he had not even consummated the marriage, preferring the company of whores. Still, you were curious to see the famous man in person.

The matches began, and they were nothing like you expected. You were not prepared for the brutality of the hits, or the scent of blood that filled the arena every time some unfortunate man got badly wounded. Three men died before midday, yet the people cheered even harder every time the horses clashed. You were starting to reconsider on your opinion of these tourneys.

The next match was announced, and you held your breath. Lord Borros was going to compete against prince Daemon. First lord Borros entered the arena, and he rode his horse up to where you sat, dressed in his shining armor, his helmet in the shape of a stag’s head, complete with antlers.

“My lady, may I have the honor of carrying your favor today, so that I may be victorious in this difficult fight?”

You gave him the wreath you had made with a soft smile, and he even kissed it in front of everyone before he made his way to his corner. You knew that you should have felt something when he did that, but there was nothing. Your heart didn’t beat any faster, your cheeks didn’t heat up, absolutely no reaction. As if your body and mind knew that this man was not the one for you. You shook your head, trying to get such silly notions out of your head. You barely knew lord Borros. In time, you would come to love him. At least, you hoped you would.

Prince Daemon entered the arena, clad in his black armor. His helmet, shaped in the head of a dragon, covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes out. The people cheered for him so loud, it was deafening. He was truly the prince of the city, as you had heard some whisper. People loved their King, but they adored their prince.

He didn’t ask for any lady’s favor, only sat on his magnificent black stallion at the opposite side from lord Borros, the beast eager to jump ahead. The squires gave the lances to the two men, and the match began. The two horses raced towards each other, the lances lowering to hit the opponent. The impact was deafening, prince Daemon’s lance shattering against lord Borros’s shield. The storm lord still sat on his horse however, and when he reached the end of the arena he turned his horse around, then set off to attack the prince once more.

The second run was not much different. Prince Daemon’s lance found its mark once more, only this time it was with enough force to knock lord Borros off his horse, sending him to crash on the dirt. The crowds cheered for their prince, while the announcer declared prince Daemon winner of the joust.

Lord Borros got up on his feet, swaying a little, unsteady.

“Warhammer!” he yelled, his squire hurrying to give him the mighty weapon.

“Lord Borros wishes to continue in a contest of arms!” the announcer declared, and the crowd cheered anew.

Of course they would want to see more of this, you thought. The people always thirsted for bloodshed, as long as they could observe from a safe distance.

The dragon prince got off his horse and called for his sword. You had never seen the famous Dark Sister before. It was beautiful. He grabbed it and made his way towards lord Borros, twirling the valyrian steel blade in his hand.

The two men came together in the middle of the field, the clang of their weapons echoing all over the arena. Lord Borros fought angrily, swinging the warhammer at prince Daemon, but the other man was too quick for him. The dragon dodged all the attacks, delivering blows to the storm lord’s sides. At one point, lord Borros almost managed to crush the prince with a blow on his shield, but the hammer lodged into the wood, and the two men wrestled, trying to separate, with little success. Prince Daemon saw an opportunity and kicked Lord Borros’s feet from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. The storm lord lost his grip on his hammer and, before he could grab it once more, the dragon prince jumped on him and placed his blade against his neck, immobilizing him.

“Yield,” he declared.

Lord Borros huffed and puffed, but saw that there was no way to escape.

The prince pushed the blade a bit further, drawing the tiniest amount of blood from his opponent’s neck.

“Yield, or die before your lady’s eyes,” he called out, much to your embarrassment.

Defeated, lord Borros yielded, and the crowds cheered once more for their prince.

Victorious, prince Daemon walked all the way where lord Borros has tossed his lance and removed the wreath you had made. He walked his way toward the seating area, stopping right in front of you. You could feel your blood freezing in your veins, and you wondered what he was going to do. Would he ridicule you in front of everyone? Beside you, your father also stood motionless.

The dragon prince removed his helmet and lifted his gaze to look at you. The moment your eyes locked, the ice in you was replaced with fire. All traces of fear and embarrassment vanished, and a warm feeling filled you from your toes to your head. You wanted to move, to step away from whatever it was he was doing to you, but your body wouldn’t respond. You saw those deep violet eyes, the same color as your dress, staring right into your soul, but you didn’t fear them. You knew, deep in your heart, that he would never hurt you.

The prince seemed to be bereft of speech as well, staring at you, saying nothing. His mouth was slightly open, his chest rising slowly. In the end, he smiled at you, a soft smile that sent a new wave of warmth through you.

After you father coughed a bit loudly, he seemed to return to his senses, and a smirk replaced the soft smile on his face.

“My lady, I believe this is yours,” he offered the wreath to you. His voice sent jolts up and down your spine, like invisible fingers teasing your back.

You took the wreath in your trembling hands, your eyes never leaving his.

“It seems you favor helped me more than your storm lord,” the prince teased you, his eyes full of playfulness.

“Then you should keep it my prince,” you replied, and you could feel your father tensing even more beside you.

You knew that such a move was outrageous, that you would be the talk of the entire court, but you didn’t care. Something in you screamed at you to do it, so you did.

The prince was surprised by your reply, but he quickly recovered, and took the wreath back in his hands.

“Thank you sweet lady,” the prince bowed his head, licking his lips as he gave you one last glance. Then he turned and exited the arena, while the people cheered him once more.

--

Your father was furious when you returned to your chambers.

“What were you thinking, offering your favor to your intended’s opponent? Do you know how that makes you look in his eyes?” he raged, while you sat on your seat, head down, hands clasped tightly on your lap.

“I apologize father, but I thought it was only right, since prince Daemon defeated lord Borros,” you muttered.

“You foolish girl,” he threw his goblet on the floor, “what if lord Borros decides not to ask for your hand, what will we do then?”

Though you knew you should be horrified at such a prospect, you were actually relieved at the idea. Somehow, you no longer could imagine yourself beside lord Baratheon, playing the role of dutiful wife, raising your children and keeping your house in order.

In your imagination, the man beside you had flowing silver hair, a pair of haunting violet eyes and a playful smirk that promised of many mischiefs.

The warmth you had felt earlier returned, but only until your father’s words broke through your pleasant fantasy.

“Tomorrow night, at the banquet, you will do your very best to get close to lord Borros, and make sure you are far away from the prince. His reputation is more than enough to destroy you, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that spoiled brat ruin my plans.”

You had the sudden urge to defend the dragon prince, but you shut your mouth before you could say anything that would further anger your father. Instead, you bowed your head, promising to do your duty, even if you didn’t like it.

--

The next day, your father had to meet with some important people, so you took the opportunity to escape to the gardens, hoping that the pretty flowers and the quiet would help clear your mind. You had spent your night dreaming of violet eyes, dragonfire and a sultry voice that beckoned to you. You woke up sweaty and with an unexplained ache between your legs. You had no idea what is was, so you did your best to ignore it.

You dressed in a simple light blue dress, tied your hair in a simple braid and made your way down to the gardens, trying to avoid any people. You knew that you had been the talk of the day, so you tried to steer clear of any gossipers, if only to keep the situation from getting worse.

You found a nice secluded spot in the gardens and sat on a stone bench, enjoying the delicate flowers blooming all over you and the birds chirping on the trees. You spent a lot of time just looking around taking in the vibrant colors, the different fragrances and the gentle breeze that caressed your face.

You were so lost in your own little world, that you didn’t hear the footsteps that approached your little spot.

“Good morning my lady,” the voice that had haunted your dreams last night came from your right, and a shiver ran down your spine. You turned to look at him, and your breath paused, just like the day before. What was it about him that made you feel like that?

“Good morning my prince,” you nodded, averting your gaze, even if it hurt you to do so. You remembered your father’s words, and rose from your seat, hoping to leave before anyone saw you with the prince.

“Do I frighten you so much that you want to flee at my very sight?” the dragon prince questioned, making you pause. He was dressed in a white linen shirt and a black leather doublet emblazoned with the sigil of his house. Black pants and boots completed his attire. His sword was absent, but he had a dagger strapped on his belt.

“No my prince, I just thought you might want to be alone, I don’t mean to impose.”

“On the contrary, I was actually looking for you.”

You turned to look at him, and tried really hard not to let those haunting violet eyes consume you whole.

“Why?” was all you were able to reply.

“I was just curious to meet the woman lord Borros is so interested in. If you managed to attract his attention for more than a night, then you must be someone special.”

You felt your cheeks redden at his comment. It was well known that lord Borros frequented the Street of Silk, and had even fathered no less than three bastards, on three different women. And the worst? He kept all three women close to Storm’s End, and visited each of them when he felt like it.

When you had mentioned all that to your father, he had simply shrugged and said: “As long as he decides to marry you and gives you an heir, the rest is irrelevant.”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to let your anger get the best of you. After all, this was a member of the royal family you stood before. No matter what he said, you had to remain calm.

“Excuse me my prince, I think I’ll take my walk in a different place,” you simply replied, avoiding to look at him.

“Why, we are having a pleasant conversation,” the man had the audacity to ask. You could feel the smugness emanating from him, you really could.

“No we don’t,” you flashed your gaze at him. “You’d have to be pleasant for that to happen my prince, and I assure you, you are anything but pleasant. Good day,” you curtsied, abandoning him in the gardens.

You knew that he had enjoyed tormenting you with his cruel words. You wanted nothing more than to hurt him in some way, but instead you decided to take a long walk, hoping to let off some steam. Maybe if you found lord Borros and managed to get him to ask for your hand, you’d soon get married and get as far away from the capital as possible.

--

Daemon stood in the spot you had left him, watching you as you fled from the gardens, amused. He had no idea why he liked riling you up, but he did. He could feel the anger flowing through you, he relished in the feeling it gave him.

He had caught a glimpse of you just before the tourney had started, when that oaf Baratheon had made a spectacle of asking for your favor. Did he really think that such a pathetic move would be enough to win over the heart of a woman?

Daemon could see that you were not interested in him. You were just doing your duty, as per your station. Yet your father was trying his best to get the storm lord to ask for your hand, despite the foul reputation the oaf had.

It would be a shame, Daemon thought, to let a woman like you be sullied by a man like Borros. It was why he had brought the favor back to you after the match had ended. It was scandalous, to be sure, but Daemon was never known to be a man of discretion. Not to mention that your dress was his favorite shade of purple, so close to the color of his eyes. It almost called to him.

He still remembered that warm feeling that had enveloped him when your eyes met. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Being a dragon, he was no stranger to warmness and fire; yet this was different. This type of fire was neither harmful, nor scorching. It was the sort you felt when you were near someone you cared, someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with…

He shook his head, trying to get a grip on his wild emotions. Perhaps it would be best to steer clear of you for the foreseeable future. It was not his place to interfere with the affairs of lords and ladies. He promised to keep away from you, hoping the oaf would ask for your hand soon, and you’d be out of his life soon. Yes, that would be ideal. He left the gardens, heading to the Dragonpit to take Caraxes for a flight, ignoring the pang he felt when he thought of you married to the Baratheon fool. Yes, a flight would surely help him clear his head.

--

There goes the first one. I'll be posting the second one soon!

#daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic

[readerhead]

Hits different

summary: it has never been so difficult getting over a guy

pairing: Matt x reader

warnings: some angst? idk, maybe if you have abandonment issues can be a little triggering (let me know if you think I should add any)

word count: 1.2k

a/n: okay, I'm really excited because it's my birthday! I wanted to gave you a gift because of that (I don't care that they should the other way around, I'm a giver <3). Now that I'm of legal age in Thailand, I want to communicate you: ANOTHER ONE BASED ON A TAYLOR SONG. Sorry, it's just midnights always makes me think of Matt. It's my first time writing "angst" so I hope you have an enjoyable time reading this :)

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The reflection on the dirty mirror of Josie's was judging you. You were a complete mess, from your hair to your makeup. The long hours taming your hair, quickly went to the trash. All frizzy and disheveled now. The burgundy lipstick, blurred. The mascara, smudged and dry under your eyes. Your dry throat made you gulp and the acid on your taste buds reminded you of how you were throwing up in a stranger's shoes moments ago. A stranger you briefly made out with. Not that you really wanted, but your friends told you you needed this. Finally, you finished washing your hands of your vomit and decided it was time to call it a night. Why was everything feeling so wrong?

Someone called a cab for you. Was it one of your friends? Josie? Perhaps the stranger? Once inside you started weeping, trying to not make any sound. The driver gave you a sad look from the rearview, as if your emotions were contagious.

You remember clearly why your stomach had that reaction. While kissing that guy, you started wondering if he was also kissing others. Did he like another? Was that the reason he disappeared? Was he in love with another? Did he even think of you? The image of him kissing a random woman, being there for her, loving her was what made your insides turn around, leaving a disgusting gift near the bar's door.

“If he’s the one, you’ll know” your friend started comforting you when you started shedding tears at the song that played on the radio on your first date which was blasting through the speakers.

“But he treated me so well. I love him. I’m so in love with Matt that it hurts.” you didn’t remember how you started talking about him, but you also didn’t remember talking about anything else.

“What hurts?”

“My heart. It’s like a little rodent is gnawing it bit by bit, after being sanded down with sandpaper and then burning every piece in the sun. And the worst is that I can't do anything to stop it.”

“Come on, girl. Love’s just a lie. A trick from companies, lawyers and the government to take your money.” another friend tried to cheer you up.

“You’re literally gonna get married in two months.” she shut up knowing you were right. “I wanted him to move in, even gave him a key, and he ran away.” you took another sip from your drink. “He was so perfect. Like out-of-a-Jane-Austen’s-book perfect.”

“He wouldn't be so perfect if he let you go.” you were quiet, thinking. “You know what you should do?” You look at her hopefully. “You should flirt with other guys, maybe kiss a few and if one of them’s lucky enough bring him home. That always made you get over any guy before.”

“Exactly. You used to switch from boy to boy like they were toys. Always saying you needed space or ghosting them. That the freedom felt like a beach breeze.” you were so disgusted. Matt wasn’t a fleeting random guy, he was the man that made you want to settle down. “Always shunning commitment.”

A couple weeks had passed. You woke up from dreaming of him. This time you blamed it on the movie you watched last night. ‘This ending is more realistic, otherwise he had left her’ this was what you said to the screen with your mouth full of popcorn when the love interest died. You found one of his blue shirts in your closet. Damn, you loved how those fit him. You took it and when the scent of him started invading your nose, your eyes started watering like a reflex, without your permission. That morning, every time you closed your eyes you remembered something about him.

“Do you think I can do it?” with his head in your thighs, you were massaging his hair while insecurities about your work were eating you alive. The feeling of his locks and his relaxed face were the only thing easing up your stress.

“Of course you can. You are the most capable person I’ve ever known.”

“But do you believe in me?”

“The faith I have in you could make the big guy up there jealous.” the outside of his eyes wrinkled. The reason? Easy, the sweetest smile you have contemplated in your life. All your self doubting was gone at those words accompanied by that view.

That’s the memory that popped up to your head when you passed the couch in your living room. The next one happened when you were waiting for the coffee to finish.

“That can’t be true! It’s not fair.” the wooden spoon pointing at Matt.

“Yet it is.”

“Bullshit.” he laughed.

“I doubt Columbia taught me wrong.”

“Maybe your professor lied to you.”

“And he took all the time to learn braille so he could change what was written in my books?”

“Maybe. There are a lot of creepy crazy people out there.”

“Could you just stop arguing and give me a kiss?” he said, grabbing the wrist that was still threatening him, getting you the closer he could.

“Only if you agree with me.”

“I agree that it ain’t fair.”

“It works for me.” you gripped his shirt, sealing the conversation with a kiss.

Before him you would have argued that injustice was inherent to human kind, however he made you believe in the good, in people, in this world.

You looked at your phone, killing time scrolling to social media. You saw a post of your friends, they went to a bar last night and you didn’t blame them for not inviting you after the little show you put up on the last night you went out.

Taking your mug you sat in the stool nearest to your fridge, the one that gave you a better view of your hall. Perhaps he would show up. At least that's what you told yourself every morning when you had breakfast sitting there, boring your eyes in the door as if it was going to make him materialize.

People usually talk about opportunities as trains and you were more than willing to take it, but you were waiting in a disused station waiting for one that never came again. You were exhausted from all these metaphors in your life, reminding you how you lost him. You had enough with literal events. It wasn't easy seeing him in the news a couple days before when his firm won a big case against some big fish called Fisk.

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you almost didn't hear it. What was that sound by your door? You didn't want to get hopeful, it could be just your neighbor. Was that a dingling in your lock? The only one with your house keys was… It couldn't be him, could it? Were you still dreaming? The expectation had you holding your breath and, when the door finally opened, you didn’t know how to feel.

“I know you probably just want to kick me out,” did you? You had daydreamed hours and days about this, how would it be like the next time you see each other, if he would be the one reaching out for you, if he would really want you back. “you have every right to do it, but at least I think you deserve an explanation. Then, if you want me to leave, I’ll understand.”

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a/n: am I a bad person for leaving an open ending?Maybe? Anyways, the song is 'Hits different' by the genius Taylor Swift. I know it's in the title but I put it here in case someone doesn't know it :)

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil netflix #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fic #marvel #mcu fic #mcu daredevil #matt x reader #matt murdock angst

[south-of-heaven]

Heya!

Love your work <3 Could you do a Damian Priest x fem!reader where they're trying to get pregnant. <3

Positive || Damian Priest x Reader

Summary: After trying to get pregnant for what feels like forever, you finally get lucky

You had been trying to get pregnant for what felt like an eternity. Each month brought disappointment, but you never lost hope. And finally, one day, you took the test, and there it was—the little plus sign that filled your heart with overwhelming joy. You were pregnant!

Ecstatic and unable to contain your excitement, you raced through the house, searching for Damian. You found him in the living room, watching TV, completely oblivious to the life-changing news you were about to share.

"DAMIAN!" you shouted, bursting with happiness.

Startled by your sudden outburst, Damian jumped up from the couch, his eyes wide with surprise. "What? What's wrong?" he asked, concern written all over his face.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, tears of happiness already streaming down your cheeks. "Nothing's wrong! Everything's perfect!" you exclaimed, unable to contain the news any longer.

Damian looked puzzled for a moment, but as he saw your tear-streaked smile, realization dawned on him. "Wait, are you...?" he stammered, unable to finish the sentence.

"Yes! We're going to have a baby!" you announced, holding up the pregnancy test for him to see.

Damian's eyes widened, and his face broke into the brightest smile you had ever seen. He pulled you into a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in sheer joy.

"Oh my God, baby, this is incredible!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with elation. "I can't believe it! We're going to be parents!"

You nodded, tears of joy still flowing freely. "I know, I know! I can't believe it either!"

Damian set you down gently and cupped your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes with so much love and adoration. "You have made me the happiest man in the world," he whispered, his voice full of emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you replied, your heart overflowing with love for this wonderful man who would soon become a father.

From that moment on, Damian was by your side every step of the way. He attended every doctor's appointment, held your hand during ultrasounds, and even read books on pregnancy and parenting to ensure he was fully prepared for the journey ahead.

As the months passed, your love for each other grew stronger, and you both eagerly anticipated the arrival of your little bundle of joy. Damian would often place his hand on your growing belly, feeling the kicks and movements of your precious baby.

Finally, the day arrived when you both welcomed your beautiful baby into the world. Damian was right there by your side, holding your hand and encouraging you every step of the way. And when you heard that first cry, your heart soared with indescribable happiness.

As Damian held your newborn in his arms, tears of joy streamed down his face. "We did it, babe," he whispered, looking at you with so much love and pride.

"Yes, we did," you replied, your heart bursting with love for your growing family.

And from that day forward, your life was filled with an abundance of love and happiness, all thanks to the little miracle that brought you and Damian even closer together. Parenthood was a journey you both embraced with open hearts, and together, you created a loving and nurturing home for your child—a home filled with the love of Damian and the joy of being a family

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian x reader

[dickarchivist]

Ollloooooo 👀

I have booked it over to oc ask you 🤩

🎱 8 Ball- What situation was your OC lucky to escape from or get out of? What or who helped them unexpectedly?

For Ghost and Wraith 🥺

And if you'd like to answer another (or if the first is blechk)...

⚪️ White- When was a moment in your OC's life that they felt the most vulnerable and exposed? Were they alone or surrounded?

😘💜💜💜

Cries for my boys, oh man I'm stoked to answer these.

🎱 Ghost: When Ghost lost his eyes, that was the luckiest he had ever been in his entire life. The 404th was on a rescue mission, and the planet was rather dangerous to begin with, let alone the threat of enemy forces. There was a call for help, and Grave was the first to respond, leaving the camp as fast as they could. Wraith forgot his helmet in the haste, and Ghost didn't even think twice to take his off and shove it onto his brother's head to protect him.

As they got to the group that called for help, they saw one of the native predators had a group of civilians pinned down. Ghost took a shot to draw its attention, and while it was distracted, his brothers got the civilians out. They heard the screams moments later, and got back to Ghost just in time to save his life. The predator had spit acid in Ghost's eyes, rendering him blind. He never stopped fighting, and as his brothers closed in and finished off the beast, Ghost fell. You can read the aftermath of this moment [here]. It gets spicy at the end so of course Minors dni

🎱 Wraith: This actually hasn't been shown to the public yet, but Wraith is missing one of his legs! I have a fic that tells about the aftermath in the works, so you'll get that soon, but here's how he lost the leg (which isn't gone into detail about in the lil fic! Ooooh exclusive.) Wraith and the rest of the 404th were on a relief mission when Separatists dropped a bomb on the 404th. When the buildings started coming down, Wraith didn't even blink. He didn't worry about himself. He just ran forward and tackled General Valka out of the way of falling rubble. He lost his leg just above the knee, and the debris crushed and pinned him down. Dax'Malkin didn't want his boy to die no more than Wraith wanted Dax to die. To save his life, the jedi severed Wraith's leg with his saber so it would carterize immediately, and he could get Wraith to safety.

Look out for "Dream Walking" to see what happens after 👀

⚪️ Ghost: Ghost felt the most vulnerable when he got his name. He was a shiny still, Grave Squad wasn't even Grave Sqaud yet, they were "Squad 45" of the 404th. Dax watched the whole team move through an obstical course the jedi had personally created for them. Try as he did, Dax never saw Ghost moving through the course. At the end, Dax pounced on Ghost and put him in a headlock, patted his chest, and shouted with excitement, "EXCELLENT WORK GHOST!" Clone Captain 1313, Ghost. He straightened up, pulled off his helmet, so much hope in his eyes, "What did you call me?" "Ghost! I didn't see you once while you were in there, an invisible man! I've got a good feeling about you and your brothers here, so happy to know you!"

Later that week, Ghost and Dax'Malkin named each of the remaining brothers. He'd never thought he'd have a name, and suddenly he has one... Ghost cried about it in private later, the sheer joy of being named.

⚪️ Wraith: It was when the team was still cadets. Wraith had broken his ankle a few days prior and kept falling down during a combat exercise with other cadets. When he started to cry in frustration, others picked on him, calling him a cry baby, pushing him over, picking on him. He yelled at them to stop, and they doubled down. He slugged one of them, and before they could retaliate, his brothers formed a wall to protect him. Before any of the other cadets could speak or throw another punch, Banshee spoke one single word, "No."

They left Wraith alone after that, scared that the other cadets of Grave Squad would come for them (they were trouble makers when they were little).

#from the archivist #grave squad clones #clone oc wraith #clone oc ghost #oc ask game

[chvrrycola]

STRAY KIDS X CLICHE MEETCUTES - SEO CHANGBIN

word count: 1.0k

warnings: none (i think)

currently listening to: angel by exo-k

meet the other meetcutes!

you had been cursing yourself for buying your tickets so late since you had seen that it would land you in the middle of a three, but you winced as you actually boarded the plane and the reality ultimately hit you. 

5 hours of being sandwiched between two total strangers. lucky you. 

your row was empty as you approached your seat, and you put your bag in the overhead compartment before sitting, emotionally preparing yourself for the next 5 hours of indefinite sitting and standing as whoever was in the window seat inevitably wanted to move. 

he came on not long after you, offering an awkward smile and his eyes told you he would be needing to squeeze past you to get to his seat. you returned the smile, trying not to let your sour mood reach your face and breach the line to rudeness. 

once he sat down he focused his attention out of the window, headphones on, seemingly a pretty undisruptive neighbour. 

the person who would be sitting in the aisle was one of the last to board, and he most definitely did not give off the same cool, level-headed demeanour. you had actually been considering that nobody would end up next to you, he got on so late, tripping over his feet as he waddled down the aisle. 

he was wearing a suit but his tie was loosened and crooked, and he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket as soon as he had sat down and began padding his brow with it. he wasn’t a large man, but as soon as he sat next you you felt his presence forcing itself against your side. 

you found that you had subconsciously pressed yourself up against the opposite armrest, as far away from the man in the suit as you could get without disturbing the man on the other side. 

you tried to focus on yourself, taking your book off your lap and beginning to read, breathing deeply through takeoff as flying had never been your favourite thing in the world.

once you were in the air you felt pretty settled though, and you had started getting invested in the lore of the world in your book when you heard a grating sound coming from beside you.

the man in the suit was slumped over his tray, head almost in the soup that he had ordered without you noticing, and snoring louder than you had ever heard. 

you didn’t want to disturb him too much, but thought that a slight nudge might sort out the noise, so gently tapped him on the shoulder, retracting your hand quickly in the hopes that he wouldn’t know where the intrusion had come from. 

he jolted a little, sitting up and looking around, though still drowsy enough that you could avert your eyes before he noticed you. you heard shuffling as you looked out of the window, and he was trying to sleep again once you looked back, his head now resting on his shoulder. 

you began to settle back down with your book, hoping to have finished it before the end of the flight, when you were once again disturbed by his snoring, only this time it was far closer to your face. 

you tried to squeeze yourself back against the armrest, but you must’ve accidentally nudged the guy with the headphones because he tapped you on the shoulder a moment later.

‘are you alright there?’ 

his voice made you jump and you turned back to face him, nodding vigorously as you tried to apologise, despite his insistence that it wasn’t an issue. 

‘i mean, we can swap seats if you like, i have my headphones so i don’t mind the noise.’

‘no, no, i couldn’t ask you to do that, i’m fine, really.’

‘well, do you wanna borrow them then? i don’t mind i have some stuff i can work on.’

it seemed like he was almost as shy as you were, and probably as nervous about coming across as polite. but you declined again, thanking him for the kindness of his offer.

‘wait, i have another idea,’ he began to riffle through his bag that he had left at his feet, producing earphones from one of the small inside pockets. ‘here, you can take those, and i’ll use these.’ 

he handed you his headphones, and began untangling the wire of his headphones. he plugged them into his phone and started scrolling through his music, nodding as he found a song he was apparently particularly excited to listen to. 

your interest in what that song might be was short lived, as it immediately began playing through the bluetooth headphones he had given you, the volume making you jump slightly. 

‘ah sorry, it didn’t occur to me that they might still be connected…’ 

‘no worries, that’s actually one of my favourites as well.’

a smile broke across his face, before he tried to control his reaction and looked back down at his phone. 

‘oh then, do you know this one?’ 

you waited a moment before he found the song he was searching for, shaking your head once you failed to recognise the intro.

‘oh my gosh, you need to listen to it, it’s genius. just the way they blend the samples, especially in the chorus, it’s the best seriously.’ 

his excitement about the music was infectious, and you were pleasantly surprised to hear that the chorus did not disappoint. you asked him the song’s title and went to add it to your songs. 

‘do you have any other recommendations?’ you asked, enjoying your conversation with your neighbour who you only knew as ‘the guy with headphones’, even though now he was without said headphones. 

‘oh sure!,’ he began, the tips of his ears becoming slightly red as he broke your eye contact.

‘i’m y/n, by the way,’ you said, putting your hand forward for him to shake without thinking about how awkward that would be. 

‘changbin,’ he responded, chuckling as he clasped your hand, head falling to hide his growing blush, ‘so, this album…’

#stray kids #stray kids changbin #seo changbin #skz #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #changbin imagines #changbin fluff #changbin scenarios #changbin x reader

[tf2-oneshots]

hii !! may i please request some writing abt everyone being really afraid of medic (imagine that this takes place when everyone is still kinda getting to know each other, and left medic out because of his Reputation) but someone eventually bites the bullet to talk to him/give him a chance and they find out that he’s actually decent company (and very, very lonely)?

preferably that Someone is sniper or demo ! whoever you feel more compelled to write. thank you so so much in advance !! adore your writing :]

I think Demo needs some love on this acc!

Warnings: none!

Rating: General

“Alright, now that I have your contracts, you’re free to look around and introduce yourselves. I have to go file these.” Miss Pauling stands from the meeting room chair, walking off with her bundle of papers, agreements, and a handful of amendments a few of the men proposed. Knowing the Administrator, they’ll be lucky if even one of them is processed.

With the door shutting, the nine mercenaries stand to do exactly as instructed: roam about and introduce themselves. They were each given a vague file of their coworkers, nothing more than a work photo and a brief introduction to their class. Anything personal was kept to the discretion of the men.

Medic remains seated, looking around the room. It seems that everyone has gone into their own cliques already. As he stands, he flattens his coat and decides to approach the Scout. He walks up to the young man who was showing Pyro a comic issue.

“Hallo! Scout and Pyro, ja? I’m Medic.” The doctor waves, smiling at the two. Pyro gives him a glance only to hide their face in the pages of the comic. Scout steps back, looking the elder up and down. He rubs his neck, hat shifting slightly from the motion.

“Uh, yeah. I’m Scout.” He turns to his side, trying to avoid the doctor’s gaze. Something about him is…off. Scout can’t tell what it is, but the man isn’t right. His smile is too sharp and evil looking for a supposed doctor.

“Well, you seem like a healthy young man. I imagine your lungs are an excellent shade of pink.” A runner should have the perfect lungs after all! Scout must take care of himself to have this sort of job. Its a strange way of complimenting the man that falls short on Scout.

“Uh…that’s kinda weird.” He shuffles back, trying not to think about what that implies. The runner hopes to wake up with his lungs, and the rest of his organs, in his body by tomorrow. He looks to Pyro who peeks from behind the comic.

“Aheh, I was calling you healthy…” Medic takes his leave. Perhaps not the best way to compliment someone, but he was being honest! A runner needs strong lungs, so Scout must live a healthy lifestyle!

“Look, dude, I read the file. I wanna keep my organs.” Medic had mentioned his joy of experiments and various medical tests. All of which successful despite their frightening nature. Scout just can’t trust a guy who puts hands in guts for a living.

Medic peers around to room, noticing how everyone looks away from him. Well, it is the first day. Surely someone will warm up to him as time goes on. He steps out of the meeting room for the time being. He has birds to unpack.

By the end of the first month, most of the team has found a close friend. Spy and Heavy have afternoon book clubs with coffee, Scout goes rollerskating with Pyro, and Soldier tests sentry durability with Engineer. Everyone has found a companion except Medic.

People only visit when medically necessary. A broken arm, severe burns, and such. Just getting Scout to sit down for his vaccinations was a two day fight. Medic reaches over to stroke Archimedes on his tiny head. The mischievous pigeon has his siblings who flutter along the rafters above.

Even on the battlefield, Medic noticed the distance. He was called on, yes, but once he finished healing a teammate, they scurried away. He watched as his coworkers ran in duos, trios even, across the landscape to destroy the enemy teams. Never with Medic unless he was handing out ubercharges.

He eats alone in his office, coming into the kitchen only to grab his portion. Funny how Medic never gets a turn cooking for the team. The German stares at his lukewarm dinner, picking through it while Archimedes naps on his perch. He really shouldn’t complain; Medic has endless funding for his wild experiments. He just wants company is all.

A creak interrupts his solitude. Someone entered the medbay just now. Medic sighs, grabbing his coat and clipboard. Another injury to take care of. At least it gives him some form of human interaction no matter how brief.

“Hello, Demoman. What seems to be the problem?” Medic says when he sees who entered. He takes a pen, filling in a few sections before looking up to the Scotsman. Probably a blown off hand or a chemical burn in need of treatment.

“I’m fine, lad. Soldier’s too busy, so I figured you and I could see a movie.” Demo holds out two tickets. Soldier had every intention of going if not for a sudden flea crisis with the raccoons. Nothing a kiddie pool of water and flea shampoo can’t fix. Besides, when was the last time anyone actually hung out with the German?

“You want me to go with you?” Medic lowers his clipboard as Demo nods. Is…is this really happening? Finally, a chance at an actual friend from work! The doctor sets down his equipment and straightens his vest.

“Let me feed my doves, then we can leave.” He hurries back into the office quick to dump a scoop of feed into a communal bowl. The birds flock to their dinner, wings flapping loudly in their descent. Medic follows Demo out of the room, excited as ever.

“Don’t you want to know what we’re seeing?” Demo raises a brow. Anyone else would have at least wanted the title let alone ask about the plot. Medic chuckles, shaking his head.

“Oh, I don’t care. I’m happy to get out of my office for once.” Locked behind the wooden door, the doctor spent his days toiling away at paperwork. Most of which unnecessary for some time. Papers detailing orders for supplies, health updates, and such.

Demo couldn’t have asked for a better movie companion. Medic paid for their popcorn and was completely silent throughout the film. Unlike the last person Demo went to the movies with, meaning Scout, Medic didn’t speak out once. He even cleans up after himself!

“Gotta say, lad, this was a pleasure. Don’t suppose you’d like to test a few bombs with me tomorrow? Need to see what damage my new mix can do.” Medic beams. This is it! If he can get on Demo’s good side, then everyone else will want to befriend him. No more lonely nights with the birds for company.

“I would be happy to.” Medic drives them to the base, excited as ever. Demo can see it written all over his face. Maybe everyone was wrong about the doctor, he’s actually a decent man.

Besties -H

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 requests #tf2 medic #tf2 demoman #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #miss pauling

[moonbeamwritings]

It’s easy to fall into routines with Tadashi. He fits into your life so easily, so seamlessly you’re certain he was meant to be a part of it. At night, after he dozes off on your shoulder and swears he’s still paying attention to the show you’re currently watching together, you hum and pull him to stand. He trails behind you like a puppy, whining about being sleepy and not wanting to wash up. You tut and tell him he better brush his teeth, or you won’t kiss him goodnight. It’s all the motivation he needs to crowd the space behind you and drop a kiss to the crown of your head, toothbrush in hand.

The bathroom is cramped, the whole apartment is really, but you find comfort in the knocking of elbows and bumping of hips that comes with living in such a small space. You can feel the heat of his body as you bend to rinse your face, the sounds of brushing and running water creating a symphony in the quiet space. You finish your skincare regimen — Tadashi always lets you go first — and disappear into the bedroom, ready to tuck in and read a chapter of your book. Tadashi emerges from the bathroom moments later, hair tousled and eyes half-lidded as he makes his way over to you, every step sluggish.

He collapses into bed beside you, turning on his side and resting a warm palm flat on your stomach, just as he always does. You hold your book in one hand and drop the other to his hair, running your fingers through it in smooth, easy movements. He hums at the feeling and snuggles deeper into his pillows.

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, only to find Tadashi fixing you with a honeyed expression, tender words sitting just at the tip of his tongue. The glow of your bedside lamp bathes him in a warmth you can’t describe, and suddenly your chest feels so full it could burst.

Moving your hand from his hair, book now forgotten, you caress his cheek with your thumb. You coo when his eyes slip closed as he nuzzles further into your palm. “So soft.”

He’s bashful, you can feel the way his skin flushes beneath your gentle touches and sappy look. “S’your moisturizer.”

You click your tongue, pinching his cheek between the pads of your fingers. “So it’s your fault it’s been going missing. You’re lucky you’re so cute or else I might not let it slide.”

Tadashi’s words slur, his eyes growing heavier with each quiet tick of the clock on your nightstand. He’s hanging right on the brink of sleep and your heart only seems to get mushier, if it’s even possible. “Oh, yeah? Special treatment?”

“Mhm,” you hum the affirmation into his hairline, dropping a kiss there, “How does that sound?”

With a cute little noise, something you can only hope is agreement, his eyes slip closed, breathing evening out until he finally falls asleep — right in the palm of your hand. Silently, carefully, you move the book to your bedside table and flick off your light, careful not to jostle the sleeping man pressed into your side.

When you finally settle in, Tadashi’s nose finds a home in the curve of your neck, his breath fanning over your collarbone. Just as you always do, you tug the comforter over to your side (Tadashi is nothing if not a blanket hog), and snuggle your cheek against the top of his head. You fall asleep with ease, ready to do it all again tomorrow.

#yamaguchi x reader #tadashi yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi imagine #tadashi yamaguchi imagine #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq imagine #haikyuu imagine

[desertfangs]

The Armand/Daniel throwaway is insane because while I don’t see it as canon, (and I don’t think it’s meant to be taken as such), I do believe it makes their lore a lot richer and more poignant. Anne hit gold with them man, she really did. And in a way we’re pretty lucky. We got the best chapter OF ALL TIME written about them, followed by the weirdest, messiest breakup plans that never came to fruition, followed by a few one liners about them getting back together. Who knows what would’ve happened if she had decided to flesh out their story further and I’m scared to consider the possibilities. We know what we need to know and now the world is ours 😌

Yeah, it's not meant to be canon. Canon is anything published in the text itself. Anything else (notes, drafts) are things Anne chose not to include for whatever reason and while it can help us all inform the text if we so choose, she as a writer decided against using these in the final versions. It sure is fun though!!

AND YES IT IS INSANE!! Because even though I agree some of the dialogue does not sound like Daniel or anything he would say, their dynamic is there!! That is THEM. It's weird and it's messed up but you totally get shades of them in those notes and maybe a finished, polished version would have really done them justice. We will never know!

But you're right! We are so lucky. She really hit lightning in a bottle with Armand/Daniel. It's such a great story, they are such fascinating characters, and Devil's Minion is such a wild chapter. Their parts in QotD really tell us so much about them and how they interact and what they love about each other, even though it's so few pages.

It will always break my heart a little that Daniel was tossed aside in the final trilogy. I get that he wasn't really part of the story she was trying to tell, and that's why he gets a line here or there about being with Armand, but is otherwise not mentioned after Prince Lestat, but wow, I would have loved to see Daniel there to comfort Armand after Marius calls him a child or he bears his soul to Lestat, or any of that stuff. And of course I would have loved an actual reunion chapter beyond just "they're out hunting together." (Of course I think we got the same thing with Marius and Armand in the QotD... 😒😒)

But--and I've said this before--part of why I was scared to read the final books was a deep-seated fear that she was going to kill Daniel off. It felt like she had no use for him and I was terrified for his safety. So even though we only get a few lines about him being back with Armand, we know they've reconnected, and honestly, that's more than I had hoped for.

And the playground is ours now, absolutely! I've loved seeing how other people flesh out this stuff in fics and headcanons and art, and I love doing it myself. So while I regret the lack of Daniel in the rest of the series, there's so much potential for stories to tell, and this fandom has really stepped up to the plate on that score. 💖

#thank you so much for the ask anon #this honestly is so fun to talk about i'm losing my mind #ONE PAGE and we've all gone off the rails it's incredible #this fandom rocks so hard #devil's minion #the vampire armand #daniel molloy #armand #armand/daniel #anne's notes #tulane #vc #vampire chronicles #answers in the desert #anonymous

[iricathel]

Nun Irina Headcanons

"... Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

Warning: There may be sensitive topics, please use discretion when reading this

"Repent...

Repent...

Repent...

Repent..."

Lucky was the young golden woman for having been educated throughout her childhood based on the pain of punishment, with a heightened tolerance for pain, there was nothing that could cause her more anguish and burning pain than being exiled from her family to one of the harshest monasteries as punishment for her disobedience.

Stubborn and rebellious woman, just like that man, bearer of her last name.

"Repent for your actions."

An impact tore through her ivory complexion, moist and flushed by the crimson that dripped down her flesh.

"Beg our Lord's forgiveness, sinner. Pray for his mercy."

Another bang resounded on the cold balcony, making the female body weep inconsolably to cover her nude with the red liquid like a satin cloth.

"...Remember, Lord. Your compassion and mercy which you showed long ago. Do not recall the sins and failings of my youth. In your mercy remember me, lord, because of your goodness..."

A growl muffled by the sharp bite to his bottom lip. Irina squirmed while holding her arms up holding two buckets of cold water.

Blurred by the drops of cloudy water that seeped into her emerald eyes, the new member could barely see the panorama that the high tower of the monastery offered her.

"... Wash me from my guilt, and cleanse me of my sin."

"Repent...

Repent...

Repent..."

The arrival at the sacred temple was not the best experience for Irina, since all those privileges that she knew from the commonality of her life as a noble, or even as a relevant figure in fashion, had vanished just by having set foot in its artisan soil of rocks and stones of andesite and slate.

All the luxuries that she could afford were taken away and replaced by old and used clothing, causing the woman to want to rip off her own skin at the slightest thought of wearing something full of someone else's dirt rubbing against her body.

The blonde has a great talent for studying her surroundings and shaping her attitude so that, thanks also to her charisma, she can blend in with the group and gradually stand out. However, the rebellious spirit with ambitions to challenge all the existing authorities to implement her own order, were always a headache for one of the nuns responsable for putting order and teaching the new members of that monastery to be ideal believers of God.

The orthodox religion was very heavy and rooted in the written words of the old Bibles, being taken literally. A good opportunity for Irina to manipulate the book at will for her convenience, once she doesn't have any obstacles.

"I hope that God has mercy on your soul and can welcome you into his kingdom, for you are one of his faithful daughters despite having used his name in vain so many times to do evil."

"Repent...

Repent..."

Irina, after finishing her training, specialized more in the choir of churches, monasteries and chapels, since by being able to transmit emotions through serenades that came to influence a person, she was capable of influencing a strong melancholy in people. who listened to her until they cried. This is very pleasing for the higher positions since after all, their religion was based on the sorrows, fear and suffering of the weakest so that they would not stop pursuing God's mercy.

In addition, Irina was one of the favorite helpers of several priests for her gentleness and divine and pure appearance, assimilating to an angel or even, little by little being considered as the physical representation of Mary Magdalen.

Beyond the hypocritical and false appearances that Avenel gave to others. She took advantage of her singing and influence to be able to blackmail the lambs of God in order to be the wolf that sullied them before the very eyes of the shepherd.

"Sin is necessary, because without evil good would not exist, and why would we need God then? Just let yourself be carried away by the whisper of the devil and repent before God for his forgiveness."

Some believers disappeared at least once a week, supposedly having been enlightened to follow the path of the Lord to his kingdom. Is it possible that the red corrupted floor and walls have allowed their soul to transcend to the gates of heaven, or have they been devoured by the arid hell to be eternally punished?

Perhaps that warm smile was hiding a malicious grin waiting for you to fall into her clutches.

"Let me help you meet God. You will be appropriately punished for your actions and once you are purified, you will be left in charge of the Lord's court."

"Repent."

Eyes flew open with her breath so heavy she could feel her heart pounding against her chest. It had felt like a nightmare.

The realization hit almost as hard as the cold blizzard that froze her face while that female voice tormented her ears.

"Are you already thinking about ending your life, Sor? I didn't imagine that I could really cause you so much grief with your favorite melody. How sad..."

A mocking smile let the sharp white ivories light up with the clear moonlight, almost as brilliant as her green emeralds.

"Repent. Repent for having had the audacity to let me bleed for your punishments, for leaving me marks of your lessons, and for believing that you had the privilege of doing so. Maybe, just maybe, I'll have enough mercy to spare your pathetic life."

Murmurs accumulating thousands of various prayers began to come out of the old woman's mouth, on the edge of the balcony of the tower where she used to humiliate the blonde to bring down her rebellion. She would only be saved from certain death thanks to the strong grip of her old nightgown, the young woman digging her nails deep into the fabric.

"Sor Irina, do not let the devil incite you to regret in the house of God, our lord. Do not murder, because you will break one of his sacred commandments in his presence. Do not let yourself fall into the temptation of evil, and do good. Open your eyes to the word of God and —"

The tearing sound of tissues parting was as sharp as scissors breaking the thread of life.

For the first time, the blonde was not afraid of heights, and she was able to lean over the precipice to see with a non-existent expression how the body of her problem fell at great speed until it crashed against the clay roof of one of the chapels until breaking into it.

The smell of iron was able to reach her nostrils, and she was able to hear her groans of agony.

Impaled on the cross of the altar upside down, the old woman slowly died while she felt how her blood left her body until it dyed the white marble floor with that impure bright red, having only at that moment the classic paintings of religious deities to cry and lament her end.

Turning around, Irina left the balcony with a satisfying smile to be able to sleep peacefully before the disappearance of the obstacle that was bothering her the most.

"Perhaps your Lord will be good enough to send someone to discover your corpse before it rots to sleep in that old chapel. Perhaps he will even allow you to be recognized and made a grave... Or perhaps, you will be entombed in solitude in those rubble."

"Repent for your actions, and I will be happy to chain you in the depths of hell."

#diabolik lovers oc #irina avenel #dark night priest #diabolik lovers oc headcanons #tw: dark themes #Spotify #((Just giving you a lil taste of Nun!Irina before the open interaction)) #((Like be aware bc this bitch is even more traumatized than the canon one so *sweat drops*)) #((It sounded better in my imagination but ehh ig this will do))

[springgirlwaiting4fall]

Cash Wheeler Road Trip One Shot

Requested and Idea by: @princessmermaid1289

I’m really sorry this took so long to write and post. I hope you enjoy 😊

The Joshua Tree part was inspired by Cash’s Instagram

The adrenaline of last night’s pay per view Double or Nothing in Las Vegas was fading away in the early Monday sunlight. Your boyfriend of two-year Cash Wheeler had put on a great match; and you were there cheering for him in the first-row front and center. You almost didn’t make it through, your flight was delayed, and you didn’t even have time to run your suitcase to the hotel room. This was a huge difference compared to last year. The year before Cash asked you to come the week of the show. You were able to spend time at the pool, spa, seen shows, and had an all-access backstage pass to all things AEW related, Cash would find you at any spare moment he had. You both decided your vacation time should be after the biggest show of the year. Although cash suggesting Las Vegas was a huge surprise. While you didn’t mind spending a couple days in a city, Cash hated it. He told you traveling into cities often made him feel anxious, overwhelmed, and crowded. And you could see him start to get a little twitchy if he was away from the outdoors for a couple days.

The two of you were sitting in one of the hotels outside restaurant finishing up breakfast. Cash finished his orange juice in one gulp, “how upset would you be if I told you we weren’t staying in Vegas?”

You smiled “what if I told you I didn’t even unpack my bag, because I knew you were done with this place?”

The server dropped of the check. “I am one lucky man; I love you Duckling.” (Cash had no problem using the silly pet name he had for you in public or in front of anyone.) He grabbed a couple of bills out of his wallet and threw them on the table. Then he took your hand into his and helped you out of your seat. “I hope you like all the surprises I planned for you.”

“Cash I would love just spending the day with you at home in the backyard binge watching tv. I don’t need surprises.”

“I know,” Cash pulled you closer to him and whispered in your ear, “but I love watching you light up when you see them.”

A car rental place was not what you were expecting, but neither was the gas station convenience store. Where Cash had you fill up a cooler with both your favorite junk food snacks and drinks.

The car rental car attendant drove up to the two of you in a beautiful vintage blue pick up truck, one of Cash’s dream cars. He shook the employees’ hand, signed the last contract paper, and began to load the cooler and suitcases. Cash helped you into the truck, and put your safety belt on, before walking over to his side. As he adjusted the mirrors and plugged in his phone to the updated car radio. He asked, “any idea on the change of plans?”

You pretended to be stumped and think hard, “hmm…I am going to guess a road trip.”

Cash put his arm over your seats and backed out of the spot, a move that still made your belly feel like butterflies were flapping around in there. “Obviously that, but where too?” You shrugged. “I’ll give you a hint big trees.”

You gasped, “Joshua Tree?”

Before dating Cash, you had never traveled before, and it felt like Cash had been everywhere. It made a small part of you feel sad that the two of you would never experience a first place together. Then one day you were reading a book that mentioned the national park. You asked Cash a question about it, and he revealed that he had never been there. Since that day it became your mission to go there with Cash. And it was finally happening.

Joshua Tree Park was almost four hours away, the drive was all highway and long winding roads with nothing to see. Sometimes Cash was driving eighty miles an hour and sometime 20 miles an hour. It could make a drive like this feel like forty hours. Not with Cash though he kept one hand on the wheel and the other hand held onto yours. His confidence at the wheel and his sweetness still made your heartbeat faster. The drive was filled with talking, sometimes serious like why you wanted kids or not, sometimes light heated about funny movies. In between talks Cash’s phone played his favorites: Eric Church, Koe Wetzel, and your favorites as well: One Republic and Maren Morris.

The sun was starting to set when signs started to read Joshua Tree State Park 5 miles, 3 miles, 1 mile away. You pulled your brown hair into a messy knot on top of your head, hoping Cash remembered to book some type of hotel. With the early summer crowds, it would be impossible to find short notice lodging.

“Don’t worry Duckling,” of course, the love of your life noticed you playing with your hair, the tick you did when you began to worry. Cash kissed the back of the hand he was still holding, before turning down a random road.

The two of you drove down the gravel and dirt for about five minutes, you took your hair out and into a ponytail two more times. The gas tank was closer to E than you felt comfortable and there was nothing on this road. You were just about to ask Cash if he should turn around when a bonfire came into view. And it wasn’t just a campfire, but also a small cozy looking cabin, in front of woods just waiting to be explored.

Cash looked over and smirked “you think I wouldn’t plan a head?” He kissed the inside of your wrist before stopping the car. He stepped out of the truck and quickly walked around to help you out of the vehicle. Cash noticed you eyeing the fire and whispered. “I had the Airbnb host stock up on smore supplies just for you Duckling.” The cabin was unlocked by a code, and it was a huge shock. It was clean and modern inside, but still comfortable feeling. The outside representing Cash and the inside representing you, it was the perfect blend of the two of you.

The fire outside had dyed out, the smores were long gone, and it was late, very late. Tomorrow was going to be long and the two of you knew you should wake up early but that didn’t stop you the two of you. In the cabin master room, Cash had turned on the fireplace before sharing a long bubble bath with you.

Afterwards you two played a couple rounds of uno as The Office played in the background. Now the tv was off and cards were put away, Cash was spooning you and his body heat a long with the super soft blankets and fire were making you sleepy. He was listing off all the things you two had planned to find at Joshua Tree Park, the last thing you felt and heard before falling asleep was Cash kissing your forehead and whispering “I love you.”

#aew #cash wheeler #ftr #ftr aew #cash wheeler fanfiction #cash wheeler imagine #cash wheeler one shot #aew fanfiction

[whiskeyswriting]

What If I Missed You? (Part 3)

Read: Part 1 | Part 2

😍pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson x F!Reader

💭summary: Can two people be lucky in life and have a second chance at love after their respective spouse passed?

⚠️warning: mentions of death and grief; age gap

🎶 Song Inspiration: What If I Missed You by Jesse McCartney

📝A/N #1: This is a work of fiction. Please do not copy or post anywhere else. Feel free to like and reblog but do give credit. Any constructive criticism is appreciated. I do not own any of the photos included in this post. Photos used have been from Pinterest or Tumblr or Instagram. I also don’t own any of the characters mentioned.

📝A/N #2: While no physical description is assigned to reader, she is in a band that does covers of musicals and other songs. Reader is between 29-34.

“You’re the kind of woman one builds a life with. One that makes coming home the best part of the day… one that I could see myself coming home to after a long day at the base.”

Beau’s words stayed with you the rest of the night. He was such a romantic for a man that had such a demanding and tough job.

Who would’ve told you that the same serious man you first met not too long ago was the kind to boop your nose with ice cream?

It had been a long time since you get this at ease with someone. And you began to understand why he said what he said about it being too soon. Then again you were both consenting adults and had already been in committed relationships.

Despite the age gap, you always knew what you wanted and would go for it. As he’s dropping you off back at the house, you kiss his cheek. “I had such an amazing night Beau.”

“I did too. I really would love to see you again. I know you’re only here for a couple more days and have to go back to New York. Can I see you for breakfast tomorrow?”

“You can see me anytime you want Admiral,” you say grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him down for a deep, passionate kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

THREE MONTHS LATER

Emma is pacing the room and pouting. “I’m happy for you but do you really need to actually move to California?”

You chuckle. “I do. Beau and I really want this to work… The traveling back and forth is becoming too much. I was able to find a better job over there… And… we found an apartment I can rent to turn it into our own recording studio,” you tell her, hopeful that she’ll visit often. “I… I also got offered a job as an audiobook narrator.”

Emma stops and shrieks, jumping up and down with you. “Are you serious?! That’s so exciting!”

You nod. “And… It’s an apartment you and the girls can stay in as a bridesmaids suite.” You make sure to keep your left hand hidden from her.

She stops pacing and turns to you with wide eyes. “As. A. WHAT!?”

You had turned to finish packing up your kitchen, pretending not to hear her.

“No! Come back! Don’t do this to me! Don’t ignore me!” She pouts dramatically but teasingly at you.

You smile widely as you lift your left hand to show her the ring Beau proposed with. “He proposed this morning before he left back to California… He said he had a different plan but when he woke up next to me this morning he knew it was the perfect moment.”

Emma nearly tackles you as she hugs you tightly. “Oh babe! I’m so happy for you! Oliver would have loved him too. Knowing he’s taking care of you and also supporting you in following your dreams!”

Tears fill your eyes. “I never thought I’d be this happy and loved again.”

Emma hugs you again. “You deserve it. You truly do.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your emotions were all over the place as you got down from the plane upon arriving in California. Yes it was sad leaving the city you grew up in and leaving your friends behind.

But distance makes the heart grow fonder. Emma already had booked her flight to come visit you next week. The other girls also were getting their flights ready.

Reaching baggage claim, you wait for your bag and immediately text the girls that you miss them already so much.

Emma: Babe! You have a hot fiancé! 🥵🥵Forget about us!

Jules: Does he have any friends… brothers…? You know… Asking for a friend 🧐🧐

Olivia: YOU are that friend 🤣🤣

It was just what you needed. The giggles you get from their messages increase when you spot Beau waiting for you. “My love!”

“Beau!” You run the rest of the way and jump into his waiting arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tag List: @cycbaby @callsign-dragonbaron @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @noirrose21-blog @happy2hippos @luckyladycreator2 @callsignscupcake @abaker74