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justporo · 4 months

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Astarion sees you're almost falling asleep and will drag you to bed now!

I would need this on like a daily basis. And I guess so do many of you - so let the vampire drag you to bed and GO! GET! SOME! SLEEP!

It was so late it could have been called early. Outside you could already hear the birds chirping, cheerfully greeting a new day. Which meant that it was more than high time to crawl into bed. And doubly so because you lived with a vampire who fared even worse with sunlight than you.

But you were still crouched over your desk and the papers there.

Your eyes were tired. You barely saw what you were working on anymore. And you knew you could get this done when you were fully rested and it would only take a matter of minutes. But you were so desperate to finish this.

Unfortunately, you had a tendency to be very determined (someone else usually called it stubborn but you always pretended you had gone deaf all of a sudden when that happened). But this tendency had brought you this far and probably saved your life more than once. And you wouldn't be bested by this piece of work!

But your head was slowly falling, your eyelids growing as heavy as lead.

And you only jumped back up when you heard that certain someone enter the room, being purposefully noisy to make you aware of it. You were grateful for that because if the vampire had snuck up on you, like he was fully capable of, it might have not ended well with you being this exhausted.

“Slacking off on the job, are we?” you heard his familiar teasing voice as he came closer. You felt his presence as he leaned on the table around you - basically caging you with his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. His lips were awfully close to your ear and the hairs on your neck stood on end as you didn't dare rip your eyes from your work.

“Don't you think this can wait, love?” he whispered now directly into your ear causing a hot and cold shiver to run down your spine.

But with this he had pushed the wrong button. Almost involuntarily you felt one of your eyebrows rise up and your lips forming a pout: “No, Astarion, I don't think it can wait.”

You turned your head around to face him and saw him smirk, making you even more annoyed at him. He leaned in closer, causing his chest to brush against your head now, his hands moved to cover yours.

“Do you really think a stack of papers can't wait more than your caring lover craving your calming touch?” he murmured with a pout that mirrored yours while his deft fingers freed your writing quill out of your angrily clenching fingers. You couldn't resist him long. His hands were used to open up more difficult things than your desperate grip on your writing utensils. Also his absolutely instrumentalized big red eyes he looked at you with were absolutely working their usual enchanting magic on you.

Not enough though for you to not make a snide remark about what was happening.

“Well, for starters the stack of papers doesn't talk back.”

“You think I'm funny, my love.”

“It also isn't as full of itself.”

A mockingly offended gasp while Astarion’s hands moved the papers out of your reach.

“My heart, you hurt me.”

“Ah see, it also doesn't guilt trip me.”

The vampire's hands wandered up over your arms to your shoulders. “I can't do right by you tonight, can I?”

“You could just let me keep working on my thing.”

A dramatic sigh and Astarion let his head fall forward and onto your shoulder. Then he let go of you and took a step back.

“Do you really want to keep working, dear?” he sounded sincere now and you suddenly felt true guilt as you looked at him. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes still awfully wide and shining.

But the urge to not keep business unfinished still had you in its claws.

After a few heartbeats you opened your lips to answer, but-

“Too bad, you're coming with me now, my love.” Astarion exclaimed and with rogue quickness grabbed your chair by the armrests to drag it away from the desk and turn it around to him. “You need your beauty sleep, I can't be seen walking around with a walking corpse!”

You squealed when you felt your body get yanked around so quickly while your tired brain was almost incapable of catching up. Thus you were almost confused when you had ended up on Astarion’s shoulder a moment later.

There was no energy left in your body to resist this infuriating man any longer so you just played the part of dead weight draped over his shoulder - since he had already coined you as such - and couldn't stop yourself from giggling.

“See, darling, I told you: you think I’m funny.”

“It's just sleep deprivation talking.”

“Ah, so you agree with that too.”

You resisted to answer him with something he would only twist around again to fit his agenda. Instead you just slapped his butt you had quite the delectable view of at the moment.

Astarion hissed and just slapped your behind in return. You only giggled more.

“I should have left you at your godsdamned desk, let you fall asleep right there to drool on the papers,” he murmured under his breath and ended it with something about how ungrateful you were while he threw open the bedroom door; your favourite drama queen.

Then he made quick work to get you off his shoulders with an exaggerated groan which you were sure wasn't fully acted.

As soon as your body hit your soft bed the last of your energy decided to evaporate into the aether. You were almost falling over if not for the vampire's quick reflexes catching your wrists.

With quick fingers and more snarky remarks you had no power to reply to anymore he undressed you to your underwear.

And with more overly dramatic groaning and a roll of his eyes since you provided absolutely no help did he turn you to lay down. He carefully placed your head on the pillows which you thanked him for with a dreamy sigh. Your eyes closed on your own. The blanket was thrown over you and more rustling told you that Astarion was quickly undressing as well.

When the mattress shifted under the vampire's weight as he got into bed next to you you barely even noticed it anymore.

With final efforts Astarion dragged you onto his chest. Your arms slung around him and your legs tangled with his automatically - you had done so hundreds if not thousands of times already.

“All this work just to get you where you belong,” Astarion whispered to you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he began rubbing lazy circles on your back. You only hummed contentedly as you felt your body relax fully into him and his touch.

Your last half-coherent thought as you drifted off to sleep was that, indeed, you had to agree with him on this one: you were right where you were supposed to be.

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#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

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infictionalwonderland · 11 months

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hot physiotherapist | j.potter

SUMMARY, james has a rugby accident and has to take physiotherapy - he’s pretty down about, but all that depressions forgotten as soon as he sees you, his physiotherapist. why had he not done this sooner?

James Potter was miserable.

A very odd occurrence, although it did happen (evidently). He was pouting the whole way as Remus drove them to the physiotherapists, Sirius was giggling to himself in the backseat the whole time—Remus, ever the angel he was, tried to cheer James up by giving him complete control over the music in the car and even greeting him with his coffee order and a chocolate croissant.

James was still miserable.

“Have fun, darling boy!” Sirius chirped out the window as James got out of the car, “try not to break any bones on your way in. God forbid you need physiotherapy.”

He burst out into borderline manic cackles and fell down completely into the row of backseats, never one to wear his seatbelt as he hated being constricted—James glared with upmost venom and hatred at the backseat windows, Tarzan looking cunt.

“I hope everything goes well.” Remus’ voiced gently, shooting his boyfriend a blank stare even as he tried to stop his own amusement. “D’ya want me to fetch you any food or anything for you when you come out?”

“No. Thanks.”

Remus winced.

James was still miserable.

He trotted his way indoors, cursing inside his head at the shooting pains all up his back and his hips, with the largest pout there ever was he made his way over to the reception and told them who he was—why he was here, before behind asked to take a seat in one of the rooms where he would be joined shortly by the physiotherapist.

He sat, frowning at the large room with equipment and soft turquoise coloured walls for a short about of time and then the door opened.

And then his world stopped.

In you stepped. . your hair was tugged into a low ponytail, front strands out of the pony to frame your face. He had died, he was certain. Your skin looked so soft, the beaming white lights giving you the most heavenly glow, he was sure you were an actual angel. Your eyes gleamed beautifully, and he was lost in the exact shade of them—trying to pinpoint every little detail and speck of colour. Your lips were pulled into such a fucking lovely smile, he could’ve melted (he did melt). Even from where you stood in the door, he was greeted in the pleasant aroma of your perfume and he felt like he was floating.

Your mouth was open—oh my god he was missing an opportunity to hear your voice—wait, what had you been saying. Balls.

“Um—h—muhuh?”

Double balls.

Your beautiful smile didn’t even waver in the slightest, though, amusement weaved it’s way into your eyes and created a mesmerising pattern into your irises that he forever engraved into his memory.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr Potter! My names Y/N and I’ll be your physiotherapist for the foreseeable future.” You grinned, walking closer to him, “Hopefully.”

Wha—was that flirting? No! You had said it in a normal tone, like Hi I hope I stay your physiotherapist because it is literally my job, James and I enjoy it. But—yeah, no. It was like that. You were so close to him now—so so much more beautiful up close, he didn’t think that was even humanly attainable.

“Yeah—i—I hope so too, ma’am.”

MA’AM?!

Somebody sedate me, he thought.

You didn’t seem thrown off or even slightly offended, or disgusted by him. Which was, good, really, really good.

Instead, you let out this little bubbly burst of laughter and fucking hell, James knew from that point he was gone and could never return. His eyes were probably comically wide and maybe in literal heart shapes but he could truly care less. He look at you in awe—your nose scrunched when you laughed, your eyes squinted and to James you just became even more perfect.

“Please, call me Y/N—Ma’am sounds overly American anyway—“

“Would you prefer Miss?”

I’m never leaving the house again.

You blinked.

He almost stumbled to his knees in apology though that would obviously only give you the impression he was more of a creep than you already thought he was—but—hold on. He watched, mouth falling open just slightly, as your cheeks flushed a very very pretty pink and your mouth formed into the cutest smile he’d ever seen in his entire life.

He was definitely leaving the house again, and it was going to be to come here everyday.

“Just Y/N is fine, thank you for being so considerate though.” You laughed teasingly.

“Can I be upgraded to just James?”

“Oh? You don’t want to he called miss? Or Ma’am?” You grinned at him, white teeth glistening from under your full lips, cheeks turning a faint rosy shade under the strength of your grin and a strand of hair swooping in front of your eye. He was in love. “Or, Sir maybe?”

Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

James is one hundred percent that he would’ve fallen over fast first had he been standing and he’s never been more thankful he’s not. He can feel his cheeks turn red—his face heating up to an embarrassingly tomato red state at an embarrassingly quick rate.

“Nah—Ju—Just James, please.” He huffed out, moving the material of his shirt dramatically off his chest and fanning himself. “Is—um, is it hot in here or is just you? Me! Is it just me?!”

You smile at him, adorably crinkle eyed and slightly pink cheeked, looking every bit the goddess and the angel James already knew with certainty that you were.

James Potter was, as it turns out, no longer miserable.

In fact, he can’t wait for his next appointment.

#james potter #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter x y/n #james x reader #james x you #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #the marauders #marauders #marauders imagine #the marauders imagine #sub james potter #james potter smut #remus lupin #sirius black

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rizsu · 1 year

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not delusional sano brothers & haitani brothers.

-> haikyuu & jujutsu kaisen version

shinichiro sano.

“shin,” a little girl calls for her brother. curious hands safely holding shinchiro's phone as she runs through the shop to find her brother. reaching her destination, emma stands on the tip of her toes, holding out his phone up to his face, “who's this girl?”

shoving his cigarette down into the ashtray, shinichiro lifts emma onto his hip. he squints at the phone's screen before looking back at his eight year old sister with a smile, “curious?”

“mhm!”

emma sways her head side to side waiting for an answer from him. shinichiro takes his phone from her, placing it into his pocket while he walks out from his shop and to the house.

“she's my girlfriend.”

“GIRLFRIEND!?”

emma slaps both hands on her mouth, wide eyes looking at her brother in genuine shock. embarrassment settles in shinichiro, he did not need his little sister to shout so loudly. was it really that shocking!? he sets her down the moment he stepped into their home, letting out an airy laugh as he smoothens emma's skirt, “yes, i'm not lying.”

emma's face merges into another shocked expression, her eyebrows raised and her lips curved into an ‘O’. nodding twice emma runs off into the house, whisper-yelling “mikey! mikey!” she's probably going to tell him the jaw-dropping news.

manjiro sano.

draken's suspicious. mikey's been awfully quiet and smiles to himself a lot. raising an eyebrow, draken takes another sip of his drink, is he going crazy? he judges mikey again. for the fifth time this day, mikey's giggled and smiled to himself like a little girl thinking about her celebrity crush.

“what the hell is going on with you?!” draken questions, he takes hold of a random fork from the table, pointing it at mikey demanding an answer.

“say, ‘ken,” mikey speaks, resting both elbows on and clasping his fingers together, he leans in closer before continuing, “what would you do if you got a girlfriend?”

draken, though holding a normal expression, is currently surprised. what does mikey mean? did mikey score a girl? is he truly going insane? questions that'll never find their answers. opening his mouth to answer, draken immediately closes it—he has to think about his answer precisely.

“i'd probably want to show her off? why the fuck are you asking me this!?”

“perfect answer because you see,” mikey stops himself, he leans over the table to whisper in draken's ear, “I GOT A GIRL!” he shouts and receives a slap on the head.

“first of all, never do that again.” draken rubs his ear, rolling his eyes as he shoos mikey away.

“secondly, are your impulses getting worse? need me to get you your comfort snack?” draken genuinely questions. he thinks mikey's gone insane.

“...don't talk to me.” slapping his palms on the table, mikey dramatically slings his bag on his shoulder walking out the shop with fake tears.

ran haitani.

rindou opens the door after three knocks. he looks at you up and down for five seconds before concluding that you got the wrong house. so what does he do? he closes the door but luckily, ran saw you and held the door open.

“don't lock my girl out, rin.”

“sorry, my bad—YOUR GIRL!?”

rindou stops from walking back to his room and spins around immediately. he points at ran before pointing at you, clearly he's confused. from what rindou remembers, ran's a loser that sweet talks but never manages to get past that, so what does he mean by “my girl”?!

you stand there awkwardly while the two brothers bicker. ran's offended and rindou's just rindou. looking at the two brothers, you decide to stop them and introduce yourself.

“hello, i'm y/n.”

“hi, i'm rindou. anyways, RAN.”

he shouts ran's name, demanding further explaination. and what does ran do? shuffle past rindou while pulling you your wrist. he pulls you in front of him before looking back at his younger brother with a lazy smile, “i'll tell you the details later.”

rindou rolls his eyes, walking into his room but before that, he responds to ran, “you better. good night you two.”

rindou haitani.

“you look like a creep.” sanzu walks up to rindou, resting his cold soda on rindou's head. his eyes move to what rindou's watching and looks back to him with a teasing smile.

“what do you mean by creep.” rindou says, slapping off sanzu's drink.

“well, if i saw a random thirty year old man dressed in dark tones looking at a girl i'd think you're a creep—without context of course.” sanzu defends himself, sitting beside rindou slinging an arm over the bench's backrest.

rindou raises his middle finger to sanzu's face, he's not going to listen to him anymore. unlocking his phone, he texts you.

rindou smiles at your texts which creeps sanzu out. seriously, he's getting goosebumps so he must talk about it.

“gang executive smiles at silly texts with his girlfriend, how unsettling.” sanzu feigns a tremble, looking at rindou in pure disgust as if he committed a crime.

“shut up, pill popper and how did you know..” squinting his eyes at sanzu, rindou questions. how did sanzu know? what was bonten's number two doing to find out such information? how bored was sanzu?

giving rindou a grin, sanzu gives him a vague answer, “i have my ways.”

#+ rizsu: tokyo revengers.#tokyo revengers x reader #shinichiro x reader #sano shinichiro x reader #shinichiro fluff #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader #mikey fluff #ran haitani x reader #ran x reader #ran fluff #rindou haitani x reader #rindou x reader #rindou fluff #tokyo revengers drabbles #tokrev fluff

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spider-stark · 22 days

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PRECIPICE

Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary - Forced to attend a stuffy ball, you find yourself hiding beneath a table with Aegon.

Warnings - implied targcest as always

Word Count - 4.5k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

The delicious aroma of roast mutton is wafting over you as you pass one of the many long serving tables lining the walls of the ballroom. Your gaze drags along the vast spread that has been prepared for tonight; a variety of artisan breads, cooked meats, and candied desserts are laid out upon silver serving dishes.

As you reach the end of the first table, a pile of lemon cakes snag your attention. Neatly stacked atop an ornate porcelain platter, the cakes are coated in a thin glaze that shimmers in the light. Your mouth instantly begins watering at the sight, your stomach growling in a way that would be deemed improper for a Lady.

Beside you, holding a plate that has been loaded with mashed potatoes and honeyed chicken, Jace turns his head to cock a brow at you.

“Hungry?” He asks, chuckling softly.

You suck in a deep breath before forcefully tearing your gaze from the cakes. “Extremely.”

It takes an enormous amount of will power to turn away from the serving table while still empty-handed, but you somehow manage to do just that. Having hardly even walked a few steps, though, Jace is abandoning his plate to rush after you, softly seizing your wrist to keep you from moving any further.

“If you’re hungry, then you should eat.”

His concern is obvious, not only through his tone, but his expression as well. With his furrowed brow and tight-mouthed frown, you’re fairly certain that he’s already considering the consequences of dragging you back to the table and feeding you himself if need be.

Jace had always been that way—not only with you, but with everyone. He was kind hearted and considerate to fault.

“I would,” you smile, shaking your head slightly to dismiss his concern, “but I’m afraid that if I do, I might very well pop right on out of this ridiculously tight corset.”

You wave an idle hand down to your waist, unnaturally cinched by the intricate lacing and boning of the garment beneath your evergreen gown. His eyes follow the motion, tracing along the intense curve, lingering for a moment too long.

The explanation seems to wash away much of his concern, relieved to know that discomfort was the only reason you had chosen to abstain from the treats being served. Even so, a touch of empathy remains, accompanied by the faintest hint of desire gleaming in his amber gaze.

Amber—an unusual color for a boy of Velaryon blood. His eyes were one of the many reasons that your mother, the Queen Alicent, felt so confident in labeling Princess Rhaenyra’s boys as bastards behind closed doors. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that there was likely truth to her claims. Your nephews probably were bastards—but you didn’t particularly care.

Jace was nice to you, and that was all that had ever mattered to you.

He clears his throat, realizing that he had been gawking at your body for far longer than he should. “It looks uncomfortable,” the words spill out without permission, and you nearly laugh when his eyes go wide. “That didn’t come out right, nothing about it actually looks uncomfortable—it looks stunning! I mean, you look stunning! It’s just that, I don’t know, I imagine that having something squeeze you so tightly might be-”

“Jace, it’s okay! Truly,” you interrupt his rambling with a soft giggle. “You should know that I’m not so easily offended,” you playfully chide. “Besides, you’re right. It is quite uncomfortable!”

Actually, quite felt like an enormous understatement. But you didn’t figure that Jace was particularly interested in hearing about how your breasts were aching from being roughly shoved up by the tight garment.

Jace looses a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Then why bother wearing them? Many noble-women go without corsets. Even my mother hardly ever wears one—she believes they’re vile things that only aid in the objectification of ladies.”

Your brows rise, agreeing with the claims of your half-sister. But then you let your attention shift to the dais, meeting the rough stare of the reason why you had been forced into the tortuous garb—your mother.

She’s already watching you when you meet her eye, her lip curled as she sends you a pointed look, silently urging you away from your nephew. It takes a great deal of effort not to shrink beneath the weight of her attention, and you’re beyond grateful for the group of women who shuffle past you towards the dance floor, giving you an excuse to break the hold she has on you.

“I wear it because my mother wishes for all of her children to look their best,” you answer, shifting your focus back onto Jace. “And who am I to disappoint the Queen?”

He notes the sudden callousness of your tone, as well as the way you clasp your hands together at your waist, fidgeting with the golden ring on your index finger. He doesn’t bother asking if you’re okay, however, knowing well enough that you were not—and already knowing why, as well.

You imagine that Jace doesn’t much like your mother; both for her part in the rumors spread about him and his brothers and for the way she has treated his mother.

It makes you upset in a strange way, a part of you always wishing to defend the Queen, no matter how abhorrent her actions. After all, she was your mother—whether you like it or not—and you knew very well that if someone were to try to hurt you or your siblings, then she would gladly lay her life on the line for you.

You were thankful for her; even if her protection hurt, even if her maternal love only exists when your life is at stake.

“Speaking of your siblings,” Jace suddenly notes, veering slightly off-subject as his own stare drifts towards the dais, “how did Aegon manage to weasel his way out of attending tonight?”

Your brows snap together before letting your head snap back towards the dais, managing to avoid your mother’s nasty stare this time by looking to her right, taking note of each of your siblings.

Aemond is sat directly by her side, his posture rigid as his eye scans across the room, alert and on-guard as usual. Next to him is Helaena, leisurely picking at her plate of food and mindlessly bobbing her head along to the symphony being played for court musicians. Daeron, who your mother insisted fly Tessarion here from Oldtown so that he might be present for tonight, is sat next to your empty chair, making idle chatter with those around him.

But Aegon’s chair, sat between yours and Helaena’s, is vacant.

A knot forms in your stomach when you look back at Aemond, his piercing violet eye catching yours, gleaming with a silent order—find our imbecile brother before he makes a fool of us all.

You give him a curt nod before looking away, head whirling as you begin searching the crowd around you for any sign of your eldest brother.

“Simple,” you huff, “he didn’t.”

Jace hums his understanding as you politely excuse yourself, turning away from him to begin shoving through the throng of people filling the room.

You decline invitations to dance and spout excuses as to why you can’t stop to chat as you push past noblemen-and-women from various Houses, trying to maintain the pleasant persona your mother favored while still moving fast enough that you might find Aegon before he finds any new ways to publicly bring shame upon the Targaryen name.

It’s exhausting work—and by the time you have shoved yourself to the other end of the room without finding him, you nearly consider giving up. Your chest hurts and your scalp is itching from being poked and prodded by a dozen or so pins, all of which had been meticulously placed by servants to arrange plaits into a fanciful half-updo.

In many ways, you look like your mother; with your elaborate hairstyle and green dress, the look is tied together by a pendant of the Seven-Pointed Star dangling from your neck.

And, in many ways, you hate it.

Much to the Queen’s dismay, you’ve never much liked the elegant styles preferred by many women at court. No, instead you spent much of your time donning mail with your hair lazily pulled back, joining Aemond for practice in the training yard.

She hated how unrefined you were, how indelicate you were; fearful for how others at court might view you for it, for how much attention you might draw to yourself.

You blow out a sigh, resisting the urge to pull all of the pins from your hair as you will yourself to keep walking, to keep looking for Aegon. A table overflowing with carafes of arbor wine and flagons of ale catches your attention, setting off alarm bells in your mind.

If Aegon were going to choose anywhere to hide at this godsforsaken ball, then it would certainly be in close proximity to the alcohol.

A cacophony of laughter and clinking goblets surrounds you as you approach, scanning over rows of bottles and skimming the faces of those nearby. Spinning your ring on your finger, you walk along the entire length of the long serving table, disappointed when you reach the end of it and find that your brother is still nowhere in sight.

Chewing on your cheek, you fight the urge to pour yourself a drink when you notice a carafe of blackberry wine. The plum colored liquid seems to call your name, singing promises of sweet oblivion, an escape from the restless feeling clawing at your chest.

You’re out of place here in court, and you always have been—you know that, and you worry that everyone around you knows, too.

Sensical enough to recognize that alcohol would likely just exacerbate your current ill-feelings, you shun the carafe and turn towards the grand entrance. Lifting your chin and squaring your shoulders, you try to appear more composed than you feel as you saunter towards the large wooden doors.

If Aegon had snuck off with one of the serving girls, then there was a good chance that he was still somewhere in the hall, either flirting or feeling up their skirts. And, if you were wrong, then at least he had provided you with an excuse to slip away from this mess of a ball.

As you pass by the last serving table, the platters and dishes atop it already thoroughly picked over, you feel someone tug at your dress. You whirl around, a fiery retort already falling off your tongue, fully intending to rip into whoever had found the audacity to touch you without permission—only to find yourself insulting the air.

There was no one there, at least not close enough to have touched you.

For a heartbeat you begin to reel, wondering if you’ve started to lose your mind before feeling the sensation again. A sharp tug at the fabric, just by your knee. Your head snaps down towards your dress, covering your mouth before a gasp can slip your lips.

An arm is peeking out from beneath one of the finely embellished tablecloths, and a well-groomed hand is clutching your skirts. You instantly recognize the hand as Aegon’s, having become intimately familiar with your brother’s touch throughout your life.

Taking a step closer to the covered table, you try to look natural as you hunch over it slightly to get closer to his level, feigning an interest in a half-eaten roast duck.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing, Aegon?!” Your voice is hushed, not quite a whisper, but low enough so that no one other than him might hear.

Releasing his hold on your skirts, Aegon lifts the tablecloth a little higher, revealing his face. “Get under here,” he tilts his head, motioning for you to join him beneath the table.

“No!”

He swiftly presses a finger to his lips in response to your incredulous shout, shushing you. You stiffen, nervously flicking your eyes to each side, checking to ensure that no one had heard you. Fortunately, the courtiers around you appear far too invested in their conversations and drinks to notice how you appear to have shouted at a roast duck.

Aegon’s lilac eyes are wide, pleading as he shoves the tablecloth up higher, giving you more room to slip beneath it. “Would you just shut up and come?”

It’s the sheer urgency of his tone that piques your interest, although you wish that it hadn’t. You huff out an annoyed sigh, taking another look around the room before gathering up your skirts and sinking to your knees, crawling underneath the table.

Once you’ve successfully sat down beside him on the stone floor, he drops the cloth, shielding the two of you from any prying eyes. The material is thin enough that it allows some light to pass through it, very dimly illuminated Aegon’s grinning face, all urgency having suddenly vanished.

“Welcome,” he almost sounds breathless, the word airy—and utterly unnecessary.

You can faintly see the rosy coloring of his cheeks, a few messy silver waves tumbling across his face, and you’re immediately willing to bet that he’s extremely buzzed. “What are you doing, Aeg?”

Your tone is firm, but there’s a certain gentleness to it that was specially reserved for your eldest brother. While you maintain that you love all three of them equally, it’s undeniable that your relationship with Aegon has always been… different.

He reaches to his side, lifting a carafe from the ground beside him. “Having a party,” he says, raising it towards your face and playfully swirling the garnet colored liquid.

“I’m unsure if you’re aware,” you motion towards the cloth shrouding you from the bustling ballroom, “but our mother has already planned quite the celebration for tonight—and she likely does not wish for it to be ruined by her drunkard son ducking beneath tables like an imbecile!”

Aegon pokes his bottom lip out into a pout. “Why must you assume that I am drunk?”

“Because you’re you,” you drone, cocking your head at him, “and you are always drunk.”

Rolling his eyes, he sits the carafe down on the ground between you. There are only mere inches separating the two of you, both of you squeezing your limbs close to your body to avoid having a foot peek out from beneath the table. Sitting this close to him, you can smell the sweetness of the arbor red of his breath—as well as the faintest hint of sulfur, a sign that he had clearly gone riding on Sunfyre earlier and had failed at washing off the dragon’s strong scent.

You take another breath, inhaling the smell of him into your lungs. It was familiar—comfortable, urging your taut muscles to slacken in his presence.

“And what if I told you that I am sober right now?”

A snort escapes you, sparing him an incredulous look. “Then I would call you a liar,” you tell him, tapping a finger against the rim of the half-empty carafe.

His stare drops down towards it, watching as the liquid ripples when you pull your hand back. When he looks back up, he’s wearing a crooked smile that makes your heart flutter. “Mostly sober, then.”

It’s nearly impossible to stifle your laugh, clamping a hand over your mouth so that you might muffle the sound and prevent passersby from becoming suspicious. The sound only makes his smile grow wider and more genuine, an expression that he graced very few people with.

“I’ll ask again,” you say, speaking only when you're confident that no more laughter will tumble out. “Why are you down here? If mother finds out then she will be furious and-”

Aegon tosses his head back, cutting you off with a groan. “Mother will be furious no matter what,”

Disdain drips from each syllable, thickening the air around you. He didn’t like talking about her much, and you couldn’t blame him for it. Of all your siblings, Aegon had been dealt the worst hand, simply by being born first. He got the brunt of your mothers vile behavior; and you hated that, too.

“Because,” lazily rolling his neck so that he can look at you again, he answers, “I’d rather spend my night under here,” he flicks a hand up, lazily gesturing around himself, “than be forced to sit through even one more tedious speech from some ancient Lord of gods-know-where!”

You bite your tongue, holding back another laugh.

“And,” he continues, nodding in your direction, “I am now saving you from the same mundane fate. You’re welcome.”

“What makes you think that I needed your saving?” You ask, brows rising.

Aegon purses his lips, placing a finger against his chin as he feigns contemplation, studying the intricate styling of your hair, the modest long-sleeved gown, and the Star resting against your covered breasts. “Perhaps it was that our mother has you dressed up as though you’re an aspiring Septa.”

Thinking of the plain women, with their simple gowns and traditional head coverings, you nearly laugh again as you ask, “How many Septa’s do you know that wear corsets and jewelry, brother?”

“None,” he admits, shoulders lifting into an indolent shrug. “Though, if they looked more like you, then I might finally have a reason to attend prayer. Beautiful women would be more than enough to turn me into a pious man.”

A warmth creeps up your neck as blood rushes to your cheeks, unsure if his statement was meant as a compliment—was he saying that he found you beautiful? If so, it shouldn’t have been a particularly shocking revelation. After all, Aegon had complimented you before, many times.

In all fairness, however, most of those times had been when he was thoroughly besotted. He had a habit of sneaking into your rooms and practically draping himself off of you, muttering drunken nonsense about how breathtaking you were. You had never placed much truth in the statements though, assuming that Aegon likely didn’t even recognize who he was speaking to, much less whose bed he had crawled into.

But even if this was a genuine and mostly sober attempt at complimenting you, the flattery of it doesn’t last nearly long enough. Your own insecurity washes back over you far quicker than you like, reminding you of just how unlike yourself you currently feel.

“I do not believe that anything would be capable of turning you into a pious man,” you joke, trying and failing to cover up the melancholy that has settled into your bones. “Not even beautiful women.”

“You could.”

The answer comes far too quick, spilling from his tongue with an eagerness that even seems to catch him by surprise.

“Though, I must say, for as exquisite as this dress makes you look,” his hand reaches across the short expanse dividing you, mindlessly running his fingers along the fabric covering your shoulder, “I much prefer the way look in armor—sweaty skin, messy hair, sword in-hand—all of it.”

Your breath catches in your throat as his touch drifts towards the center of your chest, fingers dragging along the thin chain leading to your pendant, lifting the Star into his palm. He stares at it for a moment before yanking it roughly from your neck, grinning when you yelp. “But this,” he lifts the Seven-Pointed Star slightly, “I absolutely hate.”

With that, he tosses it from underneath the table, sending it skittering across the floor beyond the tablecloth.

Your jaw drops open, a hand pressed against the now-sore spot along the back of your neck. Despite yourself, your lips start to curve into a playful smile. You try fighting against it, try pressing them into a firm line, but fail. “Mother will not be happy about that-”

“She’s never happy,” Aegon interjects. His own expression shifts, the line on his forehead deepening as he says, “Do not let yourself bear her misery. Life is too short—and you deserve more than that.”

A palpable silence is thickening the air, and your breathing seems to synchronize as you simply stare at one another.

Slowly, nervously, you say, “I’m not sure what it is that I deserve,”

“You deserve,” he pauses, lips still parted despite the absence of speech. Then, swallowing back the words that had been building in his throat, he says, “you deserve whatever it is that you want, sister.”

Your hand falls from your neck into your lap, and you avert your gaze, watching your fingers as they fidget with your ring. “And what if I do not know what I want?”

Once, you had thought that you wanted a life like Jaces. A happy life, with a mother that knew how to love you and siblings that hadn’t been raised in fear of their half-sister ascending the throne, taught that their very existence was a threat to her power. But, suddenly, you felt as though you were no longer sure.

Aegon hesitates, watching you carefully. His lilac eyes appear as though they’re searching for something within your own—a hint of recognition, or reciprocation. If he found what he was looking for, then you were unaware. “Then you’ll figure it out,” he sighs, his smile not reaching his eyes. “You have all the time in the world to decide.”

There is something reassuring about his statement, making it resonate with you in a way that you hadn’t expected. You look up, holding his gaze for a heartbeat, then two, and you almost swear that you can see it—the silent invitation, the plea to delve deeper into his words, to decipher exactly what it was that he was promising you.

You have all the time in the world—all the time in the world to decide if he might ever be something you want.

Suddenly you find yourself dancing on the edge of a precipice, chest tightening as you grapple with the idea that, maybe, something more might exist between you and Aegon.

That, maybe, he had always known who he was complimenting and what bed he was slipping into.

That, for him, it had always been you.

“Aegon, I-”

He shakes his head, cutting you off before you have a chance to say something that he fears you may regret. Then, sliding the carafe between you to the side, he scoots closer. “If you plan on staying under my table,” he teases, clearing his throat, “then we need to do something about your hair.”

“I thought you said I looked exquisite?” You stay still as he starts toying with the strands, trying to swallow the tumult of your own emotions.

Aegon’s plucking various pins from your hair, tossing them to the ground. “Yes, but I also said that I prefer your hair when it’s messy. It’s more…” he sucks in a breath, unable to hide the admiration swelling in his chest when he finally exhales, “you.”

Your cheeks are burning hot, and you’re suddenly very thankful for the lack of light around you. On instinct, you almost tell him how your mother wouldn’t agree—but then you think better of it.

“You’re… generous.”

Something about your voice sounds foreign in your ears. You sound nervous—and you’re not used to feeling nervous around Aegon.

His fingers are combing through the plaits forming your updo, his brow drawn taut, framing his lilac eyes, shining bright with concentration. “Generous,” he snorts softly, nails raking lightly against your scalp as he shakes the strands loose, “I don’t hear that one often.”

“Well perhaps you’d hear it more if you weren’t such an ass,” you shoot back, slowly trying to slip back into your usual self.

“Me? An ass?” He’s untangled the final braid, scooting away from you slightly now as he presses a hand to his chest, feigning innocence. “Never.”

Now falling in loose waves, free of those incessant pins, you brush your hair over your shoulder. “Just earlier I heard you telling Lord Grover that if wisdom were measured in wrinkles that he would be named Grand Maester.” You point out, unable to mask your amusement while recalling the old man’s shocked expression.

“Is it not true?” Aegon smirks. “The man is nearly seventy, and his age certainly shows.”

“Lord Grover is only two-and-fifty, brother.”

His brows shoot up, gaping at you. “Tell me that you’re not serious!” When you nod, confirming that you are, he sucks his teeth. “Wow—how unfortunate. He looks positively dreadful for his age, then. I thought that he surely had one foot in the grave by now.”

“Aegon!” You rebuke through your own sputtered laughter, shaking your head at his insolence. “See? This is what I was talking about! If you weren’t so crude then you might get more compliments.”

Swinging his arm back to grab for the carafe, Aegon’s nose scrunches slightly. “Why bother?” He implores, a hint of mischief in his tone. “My crudeness is what you like most about me, is it not? Without it, dear sister, your life would be quite boring.”

Just before he brings the carafe to his lips, he inclines his head towards the tablecloth, emphasizing his words. A reminder—that, without him, you would still be out there, sitting miserably amongst your siblings and being forced to dance with Lord’s twice your age.

There was something more beneath the veil of humor and arrogance, however. A craving that had him tipping the carafe back, hoping that the stinging of the alcohol might numb his gnawing desire for validation—to hear you say that you yes, my life would be boring without you.

“I suppose you’re right,” the admission has him pausing, the carafe lingering against his bottom lip. “Truth be told, I had never put much thought into it before, but you do have a way of keeping life interesting, Aeg. So, I must agree that, without you, my life would be positively dreadful.” Staring at the ground in-between you, you smile before adding, “After all, who else would be able to convince me to risk our mother’s scorn and crawl beneath a table to drink wine and fix my hair?”

There’s a slight tremor in his voice when he speaks, trying to mask the warmth swelling in his chest, “You have yet to drink a single drop.”

“Then I suppose that is the next thing you’ll have to fix,” you say, sticking your hand out towards him, urging him to pass you the carafe. He hands it to you while biting back a grin.

“Careful,” he warns, “drink too much and you may end up like your drunkard brother.”

“I don't mind,” You mirror his expression, your own lips curving as you raise the glass upwards, the strong scent of the arbor red stinging your nostrils. “I quite like my drunkard brother.”

His gaze burns against your flesh as you tilt your head back, allowing the alcohol to slip over your tongue, and you suddenly realize that you are no longer standing on the edge of that precipice.

You’re falling.

a/n - i was honestly just thinking about jude and cardan hiding under a table in the cruel prince and ended up with this? so yeah, definitely inspired by jurdan content (but y'know... no coup d'etat lmao).

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estrellami-1 · 2 months

Text

Steddie Microfic

March prompt: pin

Word count: 388

No warnings apply

Rated G

@steddiemicrofic

“Tammy Thompson,” Robin chokes out.

It’s quiet enough that, if Steve had a pin and dropped it, he wouldn’t just hear it hit the ground; he’d hear the slightest whisper as it parts the air.

“Oh,” he whispers dumbly, trying to process. Why would she- when he-

He realizes, distantly, that oh isn’t really an answer, and Robin would probably really appreciate the reassurance that he’s not going to hate her, so he blurts out, “But she sounds like a muppet!”

He immediately regrets it, then regrets it a little less when she laughs, half-offended. “She does not!”

“Does too!” He argues, and proceeds to demonstrate, warbling out an excerpt from Bonnie Tyler.

He ends up scooting under the stall divider because legs are still just a concept and he needs her to know something immediately, needs to see her face when he tells her. “I didn’t notice,” he says nonsensically, since the conversation has well and truly moved on at this point. At her furrowed brows, he clarifies, “I didn’t notice her looking at me.” He takes Robin’s hands in his, squeezes gently. “Because I was always looking at him.”

Robin’s a genius, so she gets it a lot faster than he did the first time around. Her eyes are saucer-wide as she gasps out, “Who?”

Steve bites his lip, feels oddly shy as he confesses. “Eddie Munson.”

Her jaw drops. “Munson? You’re telling me you were ragging on Tammy Thompson when you have a thing for Munson?”

“Yeah, and?” Steve argues back.

“He’s a total nerd! That’s, like, the opposite of you!”

“And?”

“And he stepped in my lunch!”

Steve opens his mouth, realizes he has no rebuttal, and shuts it. “Sorry?” He offers.

She snorts out a laugh and drops her head to his shoulder. “You are never allowed to tease me about my preference when you’re crushing on Eddie Munson.”

Since Steve’s brain only works about forty-eight percent of the time, he mindlessly blurts out, “I’m not crushing on him.”

“You’re not? You just can’t keep your eyes off of him? How’s that any different?”

Steve nibbles his lip again, mutters to himself, “I’m in for a hell of an apology,” then sighs and goes for it. “I’m not crushing on Eddie because I’m dating him.”

“Oh,” Robin says, and Steve laughs.

“Yeah. Oh.”

#steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficmarch #March prompt #pin #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #starambles

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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months

Note

Hello can i ask a part 3 of crazy for you where you know about his dark tendencies but you can't and he won't let you leave him because your already pregnant (i know it takes time to figure out if your pregnant but let's just say Lando has a great sperm 🤭 and it's many weeks later) thanks 🫶

Crazy For The Three Of Us || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 2k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four (final)

It took Lando another couple of weeks to finally get you to move in with him, not that you spent much time apart. You practically lived together but shared the time between your apartments next door. His argument made sense in the end, there really was no need to be paying rent when you could move in with him. So, you handed in your notice and moved your belongings into his place.

“Did this really need to be boxed up to move ten metres down the hall?” Lando teased as he opened the last box and tipped it out.

“Probably not,” you giggled as you helped fold the clothes and put them away. “What are we having for dinner?”

“Fridge is a bit empty, want takeaway or to go shopping?” You would always choose a home cooked meal and he knew it as he grabbed a hoodie and his keys. “Come on then, love.”

Determined to make the grocery run go faster, you sent Lando off to the chilled foods with his list and you made your way down the dried goods aisles. A familiar face stood in front of the sauces and you skipped up to him, touching his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey Luke, how have you been? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Hey,” he said weakly. He seemed wary as he took a step back, his eyes finding Lando as he walked down the aisle with a shopping trolley. “That’s probably for the best. I should get going.”

You frowned at his quickly retreating figure and wondered what you had done to offend him. It wasn’t like you had seen him anytime recently. Everytime plans were tried to line up, there was something already organised with Lando. Turning your back on him you saw Lando’s jaw clench as he stared at Luke’s back too.

“What’s that?” you asked as you nodded to his hands, his eyes softening as he broke away from his intense stare.

“I picked you up a test, love.” Lando held the little blue box up and shook it. “You’re a few days late.”

“How would you even know that?” You laughed as you took the box and started to place it on a random shelf you passed. “You wear condoms anyway, so stop being stupid.”

“Yeah, except when you practically raped me on the couch,” he snorted. “Please, Lando, just fuck me. You didn’t even give me a chance to get one.”

You stumbled and if you didn’t have a hand on the trolley you probably would have face planted on the vinyl floor. “No, tell me you’re joking, right?”

“Why would I joke about that?” He grabbed the test back and dropped it into the trolley as he continued on his way.

You rushed to catch up with him and grabbed his forearm. “Why are you not freaking out?”

“Why would I?” he asked calmly, his head tilting to the side as he saw the fear in your eyes. “I love you, we live together. Is it not the next step?”

“No, it’s not,” you corrected. “There’s a million steps between those things. There’s enjoying life, getting to know each other, getting married. I don’t even know if I want kids!”

He smiled and grabbed the back of your head to pull you into a crushing kiss. “You said kids, plural.”

“Lando, I’m trying to be calm right now. Please don’t make this worse.” You turned and stormed your way to the checkouts, tapping your foot impatiently as each item was scanned but it was the little blue box you kept your eyes fixed on. “It’s probably nothing anyway,” you muttered under your breath as you tried not to freak out. “It was one time.”

You couldn’t breathe as you stared at the little window that very clearly stated PREGNANT. It even had the audacity to tell you that you were 3-4 weeks along.

“It’s wrong, buy another one,” you said to Lando as you tossed the test in the trash.

He grabbed it out and stared at it, a little perplexed that it didn’t just have two little lines. “What do you mean?”

“Unless you can time travel, the test is wrong,” you growled as you ripped it from his hands and threw it back in the bin. “We had sex on your couch when I called in sick two weeks ago, so how can I be that far along? It’s faulty, go and buy another one.”

You gave him a push to the door before sinking onto the couch and dropping your head in your hands. You bolted back upright and narrowed your eyes at the seat, giving it a kick before heading to the kitchen instead. “Stupid fucking couch.”

By the time Lando returned, his hoodie pocket filled with half a dozen other brands of tests, you had cooked dinner and dessert and started baking some bread rolls for lunches as well. You kept your hands busy so you could distract yourself and it had worked until he dropped the boxes on the bench.

“There weren’t any more of those fancy ones but I got these,” he explained as he opened the boxes and pulled the tests out. “Have you drunk any water?”

You waved your empty bottle as you swiped them up and stalked back off to the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

“Baby, open up,” Lando said with a knock. “Let me in.”

“Just…give me a few minutes,” you begged as you sat on the toilet. “Please.”

“Okay, I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

You heard his footsteps retreat and sighed as you closed your eyes to pray to anyone that would listen. “Please, please, please…”

Your prayers weren’t answered as every single test highlighted the reality of the situation. You were pregnant. You were pregnant. “Fuck.”

The alarm on your new phone blared that the baking was done and it spurred you to wash your hands and leave the room. You walked into the kitchen, feeling Lando’s eyes in you as you opened the oven and pulled out the tray from the oven. You didn’t feel the heat of the tray but Lando’s shout cut through the noise in your head before the pain flared on your palm. The tray clattered to the floor and you froze amongst the mess.

“Baby,” Lando whined as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the sink. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I-I-I’m pregnant,” you whispered, still in a state of confusion as you stared at the ruined bread rolls. “I have a fucking bun in the oven.”

You were still in denial even as you watched the pulsing blob on the screen in front of you. Lando knew plenty of people around the city with his high profile and he had been able to get you a fast tracked appointment with an Obstetrician. You almost wished he would slow down but going fast was all he knew.

“Woah,” he breathed as the doctor pointed to the dot.

“That’s it’s heartbeat, fast and strong. I would say from the measurements we are looking at just over 5 weeks gestation.”

“Five! No, that can’t be right.”

“The measurements don’t lie,” he shrugged as he waved the wand to another angle to take a few more still shots. “But we go by your last known period, not the actual conception date if that helps.”

It didn’t. The dates still didn’t add up in your mind and you numbly accepted the print outs of the photos as you sat up.

“We will have another scan at 12 weeks-”

You zoned out as you stared at the blob, no, not a blob - a baby, your baby. Your thumb stroked over the image and you tried to imagine how in less than eight months it would be a human being that you would be responsible for. A wet splotch landed on the paper and you gasped as you rushed to brush the teardrop away. “Shit,” you sniffled as you accepted the tissue Lando grabbed for you.

“You’re going to be a great mother,” he said softly, taking the pictures away before you could ruin them further. “I can’t wait to tell our parents.”

You had barely been able to think about how you were reacting to the news but now you had to think about your parents as well. You had only ever briefly spoken to his parents and that was when they video called him on Christmas Day. The thought of telling them and your parents was almost enough to make you sick, and not the queasy kind you had felt waking each morning recently.

“Don’t you think we should wait?” you whispered as you sat in the passenger seat on the drive back to the apartment. “Most people wait until 12 weeks in case something happens.”

“You’re going to have the best care money can buy, baby, nothing’s going to happen.”

‘I thought we raised you better than that,’ your mother had sighed. ‘Unprotected sex is not an accident.’

‘What your mother means to say is, if you two are happy then we are happy for you,’ your father said as he placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. ‘You are happy, right?’

Lando’s hand had warmed your leg as he ran his palm over your jeans, giving it a soft squeeze when you didn’t answer. “Uh, yeah, dad, I’m happy. It was just a shock is all. I think my brain is still trying to catch up with everything.”

You could hear the disappointment in your parent’s lacklustre congratulations before they bid you a goodnight. It weighed heavily on you as the video call ended and Lando slammed the lid of his laptop shut. His parents had been far more accepting of the information, but it wasn’t their first time being grandparents so it wasn’t such a change.

Lando went to the kitchen and boiled the kettle for your evening tea and you screwed up your face as he opened the new jar. “Can’t I have the chamomile? That one tastes better.”

As soon as the pregnancy test had come back positive he had thrown the sleep tea out, claiming it said it wasn’t suitable for pregnancy. It seemed absurd, but Lando wasn’t taking his chances and you were kind of endeared by how seriously he was taking his role as father-to-be.

“Come to bed with me,” you said as you slipped your arms around his waist while the tea steeped. His cologne made your mouth water and you buried your face in the back of this hoodie as you hugged him tighter. “These hormones are driving me crazy.”

The tea was forgotten as he turned and caught your chin in his warm hands, tipping your face back so he could claim your lips. “Crazy, huh?” he teased, taking a step and forcing you back until you were walking blindly to the bedroom. “I like it when you get a little crazy.”

Your knees hit the bed and you fell back amongst the blankets as he eyed you up hungrily. Need simmered in your core as he popped the button on your jeans and dragged them down your legs. Crawling up the bed, he groaned at the sight of your ass in the air and chuckled when you opened the bedside drawer.

“Where’s the- oh- I guess we don’t need them now,” you chuckled as you found the condom box missing. “Guess there is one perk to this accident.”

Lando flipped you onto his back and you found he had already thrown his clothes off in eagerness. “There are no accidents, love, just miracles.”

Click here for the final part.

#dark!lando #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine

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bunji-enthusiast · 2 months

Note

Hi, I was wondering if you can do a smiling critters x caretaker!reader. I got this scenario in my head of the reader going missing for the few hours with one of the smiling critters (whichever one you decide) and the others get worried and go looking for them for hours until they find the reader asleep, using one of the smiling critters as a giant stuffed animal as they chill there doing whatever they normally do when their on break.

Sorry if it’s too many characters to write and you can limit yourself to a few if you need to. Just thought it was funny.

Missing!

Note || ah yes, the ol hit n’ run of cuteness.

WC || 596

Sypnosis || They thought it was strange to see you disappear, until upon discovery this was normal for you.

It was odd, recurring times of the day you would disappear out of nowhere. Alongside Bobby too, it had the other smiling critters wondering much about it. Though Bubba had suggested it wouldn’t be much trouble as you and Bobby were most likely fine and safe, having always been out of sight and out of mind as it would always be on breaks.

Strange enough, you never really seem to tell anyone where you are however. Straight up just vanishing without a momentary thought, it even left Crafty thinking about it. She thought it would be better if you at least tell other people where you are, so just in case something bad may have happened.

Picky thought it was funny almost, seeing as how you had always asked for something to eat (knowing full well she can pull out all the stops when it comes to food), then just disappearing without letting anyone know your location. She can appreciate the fact you just do your job and probably just wants to rest. Though going into thin air all of the sudden with her friend Bobby had drawn cause for concern from Picky too like the rest of the smiling critters.

CatNap was not all that worried about you, knowing that you can take care of yourself when needed. He was rather in his thoughts about issues of abandonment, a whole area of something he was well introduced with.

DogDay being as leaderly as he was, thought it would be best to go look for the two of you. KickinChicken was admittedly reluctant, Hoppy was raring to go somewhere and on the off chance CatNap was rather interested in the situation now. No matter the emotional state of everyone, they all had voted then went off to look for you.

It didn’t take long for you to be found, surprisingly, you weren’t far off from where your work campsite was, having been seen cuddling Bobby. DogDay was in relief, seeing that you two were okay and fine. Though a particular few of the Smiling Critters were jealous of Bobby that she got to cuddle you and nap. CatNap was an easy one to pick out as the jealous type, pouty enough that you remedied the situation with cuddles in return.

Safe to say it was all just a bit hectic for everyone, especially on the off chance of being too far stressed as well.

Bonus:

“Aw! Let me join.” Crafty cried out, pouting as she crossed her arms. Hoppy lifted her head to where she was in the cuddle pile, then motioned for Crafty to join you and the rest of the Smiling Critters. They were all finely content, though some audible groans were left out. One being CatNap as his tail got stepped on by Bubba.

“Sorry.” Bubba winced, pulling back his feet and readjusting himself in the cuddle pile. CatNap let out a reprieved huff, signifying he wasn’t at all angry with Bubba. He was glad.

DogDay was happy to see the whole group together, made up of all his very dear friends, though they almost felt like family to him. He’d want to take care of you all any day.

“This is one of the best days of my life.”

“Sure, DogDay.” You spoke out, patting his arm. DogDay scoffed, playing off your patting with a pretend offended role, “How mean.” Suddenly, the whole group burst out in laughter. Slowly enough it dissolved into giggles from Hoppy, Kickin and Crafty.

Cuddles are great, but with a whole pile of friends is even greater.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #smiling critters #smiling critters x reader

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kadwrites · 9 months

Text

different yet the same | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; nothing stays the same, but how can you explain that to the people you love?

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope, soft!tommy, reader has a voice kink? idk, typos probably, reader likes starting shit, REALLY slow burn.

a/n ; let me know what you think<3, also keep in mind that my first language is not english <3

you felt like you were overheating, his hand was barely even touching your lower back but you could definitely feel it. he led you back to the office, to grab his coat , where he finally stepped away from you.

"ya didn't 'ave to do that" you needed to cut the tension

"do what?" he was putting on his coat

"fire 'er."

he stopped in his place , looking back at you with a raised brow "you'd rather i keep 'er ?"

you really wouldn't "i mean...." you trail off, trying to find the right words

he steps closer, until he's right before you. a little too close maybe "what do ya mean?" his voice is soft and deep.

it really didn't help you , that his voice had that much of an affect on you. "would ya've fired 'er if she spoke this way to anyone else ?"

"like who?"

"i don't know, anyone else." you repeat your words

"but she didn't say that to anyone else" his gaze was so intense, it felt like you couldn't take your own eyes off his "she said it to you"

he then took a step past you before you spoke again "did ya do it because she offended me or was it because it might've hurt your reputation?"

he stops again and sighs when he closes his eyes , he turns "why are ya fightin' me on this?"

"i'm not!" you chuckle "i'm just wonderin'..."

"well stop wonderin' , we got shit to do. let's go" he motions with his hand and heads for the door, you huff and follow him.

but your questions don't stop there. once you're in the car , you're back at it and with more resilience.

"why 'aven't i met your family yet?" you're in the passenger seat, your arms crossed as he drives

"jesus fucking christ" he mumbles, a cigarette hanging from his mouth "what's gotten into ya today , eh?" he glances at you

"what? i'm just trying to make conversation" you try to sound as innocent as you can.

"ya've met polly, 'ave't ya?" he takes a drag of his cigarette, smoke blowing in the air "there ya go, she's family."

"polly doesn't count , i knew 'er as a child. before i knew ya."

"she's my aunt , how does she not count?" his brows furrow and he laughs

"ya've brothers, and a sister, and sisters in law." you're not giving up, "ya've met my family already , why don't ya want me to meet yours?"

"i barely did" he looks at you , then back at the road "they don't exactly like my company now , do they?"

"they're shy!"

he looks at you with a half smile, as if asking you if you're serious "really?"

"come on tommy, i'm serious. how am i going to marry into a family that i don't know?"

"you're not marrying my family are ya? you're marrying me"

"tommy" you click your tongue

"why do ya want to meet them so badly?"

"i just..... i've always wanted to be close to my husband's family when i'd get married."

he sighs , looking back at the road "it'll take time for them to warm up to ya and they're hardly as polite as your lovely family is" he mumbles with a sarcastic tone

"probably" you nod "but i do want to meet them"

"fine, don't say i 'aven't warned ya." he sighs again, "i'll see what i can do"

"mum says that thomas shelby proposed to ya" sarah and amy are in your room, they're celest's daughters.

"mhm" you're still in bed and they're beside you. your sister's children are rascals, just like their mom they, don't knock when they come in, they lay in your bed with you and wake you up whenever they're bored. you're eyes are still closed when you mumble, not that it would stop them from pestering you. you try to hang on to any crumb of sleep you can get.

"can we see the ring?" amy asks , you can hear the smile in her voice.

you raise your hand, wiggling your ring finger. at her.

you tried to keep this whole thing from them, to not let them know what really happened. they're smarter than you think though. after all , sarah is already 14 and amy is 13. they already have an idea, they just never wanted to bring it up.

"oh my god..." amy's voice is filled with excitement and a little bit of disbelief "is this a real diamond?"

"of course it fucking is." you grumble. you turn, so you're laying on your side but facing them now

"are ya happy?" sarah pulls the covers, getting under them next to you

"why wouldn't i be ?" you chuckle sleepily "i'm gonna be fucking rich" you wiggle your brows

they both chuckle with you, but they are still looking at you with a type of look, and you know what it meant.

"mum says that his house is far , that we wouldn't see ya as often." amy mumbles

"your mum is dramatic. of course ya will." you reassured them, but the thing is you didn't even know how life would be after your wedding. "ya're not getting rid of me that easy."

"are ya nervous?"

"a little bit yeah" you shrugs "but it's normal, your mum was nervous too ya know? she'd cry every time she saw me." you say with a snort "and look at 'er, she still comes over every other day."

"but that's different isn't it?" amy dares to ask

"what is different?" you ask softly

"everything is going to be different" she mutters and you can feel your heart crack at that "this wedding is different, you're marrying ... 'im, and moving away, and it'll be different." her voice cracks, and she looks away

"nothing is going to be different amy..." you get up, and scoot next to them "but even if things change i'll still be me, ya'll still 'ave me"

sarah leans her head on your shoulder "i'll miss ya"

you look at her then at amy, "aww , hey now" you hug her, laughing as you kiss her head "i'm not going anywhere," you speak into her hair

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#kadwrites #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction

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mypoisonedvine · 4 months

Note

"I think we're on a first name basis by now." with tommy shelby

kinda went crazy with this one idk what happened lmao

warnings: dubcon smut (18+ only), dark!tommy, innocent/virgin reader, very rough sex, implied age gap, possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics, touch of misogyny kink, degradation, a little spanking

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

You only waited tables a few nights a week, just to make ends meet. You spent more time in the kitchen, actually, than you did in the part of the pub where the rowdy men would gather and drink and start trouble.

So, it was probably just your luck that whenever you were out there among them, Thomas Shelby was, too.

His eyes were always on you-- or it felt like that, sometimes. You looked at him, too: you couldn't help it, after all you'd heard. You couldn't really believe those things were true, that he was really that dangerous... he had kind eyes, you thought, and a nice smile. He looked strong, you couldn't deny that, nor could you deny the strange feelings you felt when his eyes drifted over your body while you wiped down tables and chairs. Your thighs seemed to press together each time he did that...

You almost hoped he wouldn't come tonight. As much as you had a growing interest in him, you always had this guilty feeling inside you after you got home on the nights you saw him. Maybe because, on some level, you knew what it was you felt when he looked at you.

No, he wasn't there when you arrived to the pub-- and you sighed with relief-- but your boss appeared rather suddenly when you stepped inside.

"Need you to go to the back room tonight," he told you firmly.

"Huh? Why?" you wondered.

"Just wait back there," he said simply, giving you no explanation, before walking away to deal with something else. Unsure what he could mean but not wanting to question it further, you went back through the kitchen to the back room of the pub.

It was small, and dark-- you flipped on the lamp, but it wasn't much to look at. A small couch, and a chair and desk, with various papers and letters strewn about. This was where the owner kept track of his records, managed shipments and costs-- probably where he kept track of your hours and compensation as well. You rocked back on your heels for a second before deciding to sit in the chair as you waited.

You couldn't say how long it was, probably only a few minutes, before the door opened and you stood up instinctively; you eyes widened when you saw who was stepping in with you.

"Oh, Mr. Shelby," you greeted nervously, "er-- what are you doing here?"

"I called ahead," he explained simply, shutting the door behind himself, "I told the owner that I wanted to see you."

You chewed your lip nervously. "Oh?"

"Yes," he nodded, approaching you but staying a healthy distance-- for now.

"Well... you can see me almost any night," you noticed.

"But I wanted to see you alone," he clarified.

"Does the boss mind? He must be working all the tables by himself," you wondered aloud.

"He'll be just fine," Tommy assured, "he's being compensated for his time."

Your stomach turned a bit when you realized Tommy had paid your boss to keep you back here for him. You knew then what he wanted, but you were still in denial about what was going to happen here.

He stepped up to you, almost too close, but you didn't have the bravery to take a step back.

He kissed you. It was far too sudden, far too forward-- but his hand slipped around the back of your neck and you felt entirely trapped. You did your best to kiss him back, but you weren't entirely sure how to do it well; you got the sense that things wouldn't turn out well for you if you disappointed him somehow. As he kissed you harder, his tongue slipping into your mouth, you whimpered and pushed him back by his shoulders.

It was an automatic response, but your heart pounded with nervousness as you looked up at him for his reaction: but he seemed oddly calm, not offended by your hesitance. "I-I'm sorry," you mumbled, "you just surprised me..."

"Didn't you want me to kiss you?" he asked.

And, well, that was sort of a complicated question. You had to admit, you'd imagined it before. But something about this felt wrong, even if you found yourself craving more. You'd never felt a heat between your legs quite like this one...

"You thought about more than that, didn't you?" he presumed with a raised brow, and you bit your lip and looked away.

"E-erm, well, I--" you stammered, but that was apparently answer enough for him.

He laughed a little, moving in even closer to you. "You're such a sweet girl," he cooed gently, running his hand along your waist as you shivered. "And pretty, too-- I know all the boys are lookin' at you. But you don't look at the boys, do you?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but failed completely when his fingers nimbly began to untie your apron.

"You just look at me," he continued, his voice getting a bit deeper as he finished.

"M-Mr. Shelby, I--" you started to weakly protest.

"I think we're on a first name basis by now," he said through a smirk.

"Tommy..." you mumbled shakily. "I've... I've never, erm, known a man before..."

He smiled even wider, the sharpness of his teeth seeming predatory. "Would you like to?" he asked, making your throat a little dry.

"W-well, I always thought I'd... I'd wait until I was married."

"Not all of us have that sort of patience," he explained, suddenly pulling your body flush against his and latching his lips onto your neck. You shuddered and whined, wrapping your arms around his neck since you weren't sure what else to do with them; whenever his tongue danced along your pulse, it sent a shock through your whole body and you whimpered with need.

You barely noticed he was guiding you back, not until he broke away and tossed you down onto the sofa suddenly, making you gasp.

You thought he would lay down on top of you, set himself between your legs-- but instead he roughly turned you around, shoving your face down into the old sofa at the same time that his other hand forced your hips up towards his.

You hadn't even had a chance to think-- he was already shoving your skirts up, yanking your undergarments out of the way, leaving you bare to the drafty air of the room. "T-Tommy, wait," you mumbled weakly, but he either didn't hear you or didn't care. He only growled lowly as he examined you; you both knew, then, how wet you'd become.

"Fuckin' dripping," he observed, seemingly to himself, though you heard him loud and clear as you shut your eyes tight.

He let go of your hips a second later and you heard him taking off his suspenders, but you couldn't look back at him with that other hand still tangled in your hair.

You heard him pushing his trousers down; you heard him spit into his hand and rub it over himself. You still couldn't quite process that this was all happening to you. What happened to that kind-looking man in the pub who would make your heart flutter by brushing his hand over yours? He didn't seem to have that sense of discretion now...

You gasped just from him pressing the tip up to your opening-- you couldn't even describe how you reacted when he actually shoved it in. (Yes, it took a real shove, because you were anything but prepared to take something inside you, let alone something like that.)

"O-oh, no-- oh, it hurts," you whimpered, wincing at the burning sting, holding on tighter to the cushion under you. "Tommy! Y-you're hurting me!"

"Shh, shh," he soothed sharply, groaning as he went deeper inside you, holding on tight to your waist again-- conveniently keeping your back from arching up the wrong way.

You let out a shuddering sigh and tried to relax when he slowed down. "I-is it done?" you asked nervously.

He laughed darkly. "No, sweetie, it's not even halfway in you."

He went a bit deeper again and you choked on a sob. "P-please, don't put in anymore," you begged.

"It only hurts at first," he assured, "then it feels good. It's what it's made for, love. What'd you think was supposed to go up there?"

He was joking, but it still made you feel dumb and shy, and your face heated up even more.

"I'll put the rest in now-- no cryin' this time, be good," he warned. Sliding deeper with one long stroke, until the tip of him reached so deep your stomach started to hurt, he let out a long sigh of satisfaction. "Fuck, nice and warm."

You were thankful he didn't start to move right away, because you were breathing heavy and fast like it was the greatest physical challenge of your life... it probably was, honestly. How could anything like that fit inside you? It felt like he was creating something entirely new inside you-- he certainly made you feel things you'd never felt before.

He started to move, slow and methodical at first, sighing as he savored the feeling of you. You shivered, toes curling in your shoes, trying to stay still and not tense up inside. It was hard to relax, though, in a situation like this... with a man like him.

Each thrust was a little faster than the last; he never quite set a reliable pace, just getting used to the feeling of you.

"So fuckin' tight," he praised deeply, digging his fingers harder into your skin. "The way this cunt grips me... she never wants me to leave, I bet."

He guided you to stay partially upright again, and you put your arms out under yourself to try to stay on your hands and knees. His fingers traced up your back through the dress, before holding onto your shoulder for leverage as he began to really fuck you. Hard. Still slow, but it seemed like he was only going that slow so he could put all his energy into each deep thrust.

You yelped with every slam forward, legs shaking constantly, the sound of his skin hitting yours making you feel a bit... filthy. All of this felt filthy. You felt cheap and disgusting and used. So why in God's name was it beginning to feel good?

He noticed the change right away; he couldn't have felt the difference that you did, the way the sharp pain melted into a pleasant, numbing stretch-- but he could hear it, your moans getting deeper and more confident and needier.

"See? Fuck, knew you were just a little whore," he growled in your ear as he leaned down over you, making you shut your eyes and moan lowly. "Knew you were a cockhungry little cunt like the rest of 'em. You can act innocent all you want, sweetie, but you wanted me to ruin you so badly..."

He was fucking you faster, a little more eagerly, trying to see how hard he could push you. You dropped your head limply but he put a hand on your forehead and pulled it back up, keeping you against his shoulder as he fucked you senseless.

"It's so fuckin' deep in you now, love," he growled. "Can't believe you made it this long without somebody breakin' in this cunt. And now it's mine, huh? Property of Tommy fuckin' Shelby."

You whined, losing the last bit of strength in your arms as your face fell down into the sofa's cushions again. He didn't seem to mind this time, taking a hold of your hips and staying upright as he set a brutal place of slamming thrusts into you. You cried some, but you weren't sure if it was from the pain or pleasure or shame or joy of it all.

"Nobody else s'gonna ever touch you," he promised roughly, delivering a harsh smack to your ass for no good reason except to make you jump. "Nobody else will ever get inside this pretty cunt but me."

You whined, but the way you clenched around him gave away how you really felt about the idea.

"You want me to own you, huh?" he noticed with a dark laugh. "You want to belong to me. Be my little whore, my dumb fucktoy--"

"Oh, Tommy," you whimpered, not sure if you loved or hated him talking like that. It made you feel a little awful, but you were so wet that it was running down your thighs now...

"You'll let me come and fuck you whenever I like," he decided-- or maybe he was explaining it all to you, the new rules of your life as his belonging. "You'll give me whatever I want. And you'll fuckin' thank me when I'm done."

You whined loudly.

"Yes?"

You tried to nod, but he grabbed your hair.

"Say it, whore," he demanded.

"Yes! Yes," you sobbed, "I'll be yours, Tommy."

"Good," he purred. "Hold on tighter to the cushion now, love-- I'm not gonna be gentle with ya anymore."

You hadn't realized that everything up until now was what he considered gentle... and your heart twisted with a sickly pleasurable fear of what was in store for you from now on.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

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shycloudkitty · 4 months

Text

JUST A LITTLE TOUCH

Summary: You have been in a friends with benefits relationship with Leon for almost two years. After one of your *stress relief* sessions with Leon, things start to change between you both when he takes one small step in opening himself.

Pairing: RE6 Leon Kennedy! × Fem! Reader

Tags: Mentions of sex in some parts, pure fluff, drinking, angst with lots of comfort.

A/N: Hello guys! I am so so excited for my first fic ever!!! I am so happy rn. Happy new year to you all🥰🥰🥰. Hope you all enjoy this!! Don't forget to show your appreciation by liking it, commenting on it and reblogging on it. A huge thanks to @nexysworld @luniaxi @elfven-blog @kennedyswhore for encouraging me🥰🥰🥰.

Words in bold and italics are Leon thoughts. Like this…

Also guys there's only one sentence which is only in bold and not italics so be careful about it. 🤭🤭

Word count : 5.2K

The room was warm after the shared moments between you and him. Sheets crumpled, Hair messed up, scent of sweat and sex still lingering in the air a little bit. You were lying in bed sleeping and resting yourself after one of many wonderful moments you had with Leon.

Your eyes flutter open slightly and you stretched your arms a bit. As you did you realised he wasn’t lying beside you… That definitely you woke up. Even if he wasn’t that much into cuddling he still used to be beside you. You frowned and sighed tiredly then slowly sat up. Looking around the room you rubbed your face to get the sleepiness out of you. Two years of doing this and by now you could probably guess what he was doing by now.

Probably needed a drink.

That’s what he usually did…You knew after sex he tended to be a bit *disconnected* his mood used to be off. After you guys were done and saw him spacing out, you often used to hold his hand, squeezing it gently and kissing his cheek lightly. He used to give a small smile and sometimes… you did catch him blushing once in a while which was adorable.

You slowly got up from bed and stretched your arms above your head and sighed softly. You wore your shirt and your shorts. And made your way towards the living room.

There he was… Reaching up to his liquor cabinet and taking out one of his whiskey bottles. His back turned to you. Wearing one of his blue shirts and grey sweatpants. You swear you never saw that cabinet empty, sometimes it was even more stocked than his fridge.

He took one of the glasses and poured himself a drink. “Want anything to drink?” His gruff voice echoed in the room. He didn’t had to look up and turn his back to see you were awake. His senses were sharp after all.

You walk towards him and lean against the counter and smile at him. “Sure… Would love one right now…” You never liked it when he used to just get so lonely. You just wanted to help him… a little bit. It was hard not to care for a guy like him.

He sets a second glass In front of you and pours some for you. Still looking pretty unphased. He finally looks up at you and passes you the glass. You could see it in his eyes that he was there… but not there at the same time. But you knew him long enough, had an understanding of each other, even if he’s not openly emotional, he appreciates the company.

You decided to break the ice when you just saw him staring at you… spacing out a bit. You gave one of your playful smiles and in a teasing tone asked. “Why the long face? Am I really that terrible in bed?” taking a sip of your drink.

He doesn’t take well to teasing sometimes, but that gets a rare chuckle out of him. “Maybe” he teases back.

You scoff lightly, giving him an offended look and playfully say “Ouch. Didn’t know we were giving each other reviews�� want me to give you one?”

He chuckles again and with a cocky smirk says. “I guess it will be 10 out of 10 considering how much I had you begging for more at the end of it.” His voice sultry.

More like 11 out of 10 but who’s counting anyways?

You scoff and look away to hide your flustered face. “You… are insufferable.” Not wanting to admit the fact he was right.

Leon chuckles for a while, his mood slightly better but after a moment he sighs and says. “Just… been thinking.” He usually didn’t admit what he was feeling at the moment always kept his true feelings and face hidden.

You look up at him and softly said “About work?” He nods and that’s all you get. He walks over to the couch and sits down with a light huff “Mmhmm”.

You sit beside him on the couch and slowly ask “Is it important or just overthinking”. He looks down at his drink, thinking. He sighs. “Bit of both, really…” He chuckles lightly. He can’t deny how right you were. It’s eating at him a bit.

There’s a stretch of silence between you two after that. Leon looking at his drink and taking a small sip of it while you sit beside him thinking how to comfort him on that. Like… What do you even say to the person who had a much rougher life than any normal person had? After much thinking, you then scoot closer to him and gently pat his back and give him a soft smile. You don’t know if that action was awkward or comforting. You looked like you were patting a sad child. But you didn’t know what else to do & you really wanted to be there for him.

He was surprised a bit, looking over at you he couldn’t help himself but smile at your action. It did help him, even a little bit. “I just…” He stops, a hint of pain in his voice. “I just wish I could tell you…everything.”

What? Did he really said that? Did he really felt like that? Your eyes widened and you stopped smiling momentarily. That was so unusual of him… You then slowly regained your composure and slowly asked him. “Oh so… do you wanna talk about it?”.

“No” He replied almost too quickly, shaking his head. “I mean…Look, I can’t.” And gulps down his whiskey in one go like it was water. He’s never quite been this… vulnerable around you before. It’s like he’s a little taken aback at his own actions.

You still smile at him and kiss his cheek lightly. “That’s okay…” He can’t help a slight blush, before looking away. “…Thanks.” God was he awkward.

He sighs, looking over at his liquor cabinet. He considers getting another drink. He gets up and glances at you briefly for a second and says. “I’m gonna…go get a refill.” “Want anything else?” He asked.

Now that you think about it, you could use something to eat. “Mmm… yeah I am a bit hungry.”

He nods and says “Hungry, huh? I’ll order us some food.” He grins a bit as he walks away, heading towards the kitchen. “We can watch a movie till it gets here.” He says, over his shoulder and pours himself another drink.

You chuckle lightly and say in a light hearted manner. “Uh huh.. A movie you say? Which one?”

Leon stops for a moment, his back still facing you and simply say. “Horror movie. I wanna scare you a bit.” You groan and he glances over his shoulder at you smiling. “Or maybe I should be the scared one?” Chuckling a bit at his own words. “I know you love horror stuff.”

No you don’t. At what part of you hiding your face behind a pillow whenever a jumpscare comes and scares the shit out of you, was loving ‘horror stuff’? You roll your eyes and look at him raising an eyebrow at him. “Oh come on…You just wanna watch me scream. That’s what you really like.”

You mentally face palm yourself as you realize what you just said and watch as he smirks and starts to say. “I mean I do make you scream whenever you are here so…”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he laughed seeing your reaction. You groaned. Him and his cheesiness. “I didn’t mean it that way and you know it… You are such a big meanie.”

He chuckled and poured himself his third drink and doesn’t turn around and sarcastically says “Am not. I’m a big softie.” A big smirk present on his face.

“And hey, I’ll let you choose the movie. So go ahead. Pick it out.” Coming back to the couch and taking his phone out to place order for two pizzas which doesn’t take long to order as he does remember your favourite. It wasn’t like this was first movie night you guys had. You used to have them whenever he was bored or wanted to keep his mind off things. Eating pizza or ramen while you rambled to him about your day while he patiently just listened to each word. Although… you both soon got distracted and moved things to the bedroom… so it will always ended on a splendid note.

You laugh and teasingly say. “Ohh… don’t give me that much power or I will make you watch a chick flick with me.”

He laughed and looked up at her and gave her a dramatically sigh. “I mean, I could suffer through it. You’re worth it.” He grins when he watches you blush and shyly look away.

He was never going to admit it out loud but he loved making you blush, watching that rose pink colour slowly filled your cheeks. He always thought that it suited you. And he didn’t even had to do much, he could compliment you anytime and you would shyly look away trying to show his words weren’t affecting you but the colour on your cheeks told him everything that needed to know.

He then shrugs and says. “But really, I’ve never been all that scared of horror.” As if to prove his point, he pulls his sleeves back a little, revealing claw marks and scars on his forearm. “I’ve been through a lot worse than a jumpscare and some spooky music.” Chuckling a bit at the end.

You bit your lip and looked at his forearm with a sense of pity. There were old scars which had faded replaced by new ones. You knew he used to work in DSO and fought bioweapons. Yeah he told you, reluctantly when you probed him about his job. But that was it. He never ever shared on what he had to go through in his job. And honestly looking at it… you really couldn’t even begin to imagine on what he had to see or face through.

And it isn’t really the first time seeing them but looking up at them close…That was different. You slowly bring your hand and gently trace his scars with your fingers. A bit curious how they were formed in the first place. You looked up at him concern visible in your eyes.

He doesn’t say a word at your touch. He notices your hesitation but was too focused on the fact that you touched them willingly. Don’t you find them ugly? It’s not like they were pretty to look at. He doesn’t often show anyone his scars, and he’s never quite let you touch them before. He looks down at you, surprised at your curiosity over them. Looking back down at your touch again, not quite knowing what to do or say. Should he have stopped you? He thinks to himself.

You then hesitantly asks. “...Is that what you always go through?” Your voice low as you tried to imagine the horrors he had to go through.

His eyes follow your touch as you continue with it. He watches you with a sort of silent disbelief as you ask your question. To him, his work is just…normal. But you look at him like you just asked him the world. He sighs and says. “I've been in plenty of bad situations, yeah,” he chuckles lightly and sips his drink. “But its… it’s what I do. Someone’s gotta do it.”

You removed your hand as he started to roll down his sleeves a bit hurriedly, hiding them away before you asked something else. You look up at him and say. “Must be hard… that’s very brave of you…” you were a bit surprised on how casual he was about all this. But all he did was shrug and reply “I can’t really say I’m brave, just doing my job. Like I said, someone’s gotta do it.”

He drains his glass, looking at it and scoffing to himself a bit and replies. “But Thanks…” sensing the topic was over you didn’t probe him further than that.

Soon his door bell rings and he gets up to receive the order. Comes back and sets down the boxes. He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. “Wanna eat and choose the movie?”

You chuckle and nod. “Sounds good…” You pass him your glass to refill it and he does that. Keeping the bottle on the coffee table as you browsed on Netflix on what to watch. “So how about conjuring..?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Pick something scary. That’s nothing.”

You frown at him and say. “Hey that’s scary…” Leon shakes his head and takes the remote. “Give me that…” and starts browsing.

You scoff and try to take back the remote and say. “No way, last time you chose hereditary and I had to sleep with lights on that night.”

Leon doesn’t give back the remote and say. “Well I won’t choose that then. What about midsommar?”

Your eyes widen and try to take back the remote again and say. “No way, give me that. I hate cult movies.”

After 10 minutes of you guys fighting on which movie to see. You both decide to watch IT. Which already has you hiding your face behind a cushion. He chuckles seeing you that way and pats your knee lightly and puts an arm around you. “Don’t worry, I won’t let that clown take you down the drain with him and make you float.”

You chuckle and teasingly say. “Aww… will you keep me safe and tucked away from him?”

Leon rolls his eyes and chuckles. He replies sarcastically. “Yeah yeah I will…be your knight in shining armor.” Looking at you with a cocky smirk which had you giggling.

You shake your head and eat your slice and so does he as you relax and watch the movie. He looks over at you as you hide your face in his shoulder when it got scary, peeking a little bit to watch the screen not wanting to miss it. He smiled to himself.

You were really so cute to him… so innocent and sweet. Sometimes all he wanted was to tuck you away in a safe place and watch over you, keeping a sweet thing like you away from every horrific things he had witnessed.

“Are you cozy?” he asks suddenly. But your body language gives it away-he can tell you’re comfortable. He feels his heart pound in his chest as he feels something fuzzy inside. What am I even doing?. It was clear that he was enjoying this too but he really didn’t wanna show that he was enjoying this too much. You smile and nod.

“Yeah It’s really cozy… you make a really cozy pillow you know.” Chuckling softly at him. He chuckles too finding your description of him amusing.

“Oh am I?” His gaze returns to the screen. He was definitely trying to be flirty as he felt his cheeks warm up a bit. But a nagging feeling deep inside his mind just keeps eating him. This is…dangerous. Can’t stay like this for longer.

While his mind runs wild with all the chaotic thoughts bubbling over while you were looking at the same forearm which had rolled up a bit giving another peek at his scars. You couldn’t help but get distracted by it. His whole attitude about how this was just work and how aloof he was about the whole ordeal. It just didn’t sit right with you. He couldn’t be numb to all of this… or was he? You think for a moment. He never got this close. Like never. And you never forced him either, it’s not like you were obligated to know about his work or nightmares…or his demons.

Your curiosity bubbled over and slowly brought your hand and shifted his sleeves a bit more to look at them. Doing it slowly so to not disturb him in that moment. And gently tracing small, slow circles on one of the scars.

His eyes widened a bit and looks down at your slow touch, calming him down almost instantly and pulling him to reality and away from his drowning thoughts. Your gentle touch, the circles you create. He feels a warm sensation run up his arm, and he suddenly feels… odd. He looks over at you, but can’t meet your gaze for more than a few seconds before he looks back down. He stares at your hand touching his arm, not moving away or resisting. His heart pounds faster. He doesn’t feel cold anymore. He feels too warm. It’s hard not to melt under your touch. You then ask him softly. “You never allowed me to touch them like this before...” your gaze fixed at the scars.

This will never be ‘normal' to you. Will never make you think like this wasn’t a big deal or that the things he used to do weren’t ‘brave' or that it was 'just a job’. Even lasting this long in this field was an achievement in itself. This job took so much away from him… but he’s still standing... But at what cost?

“I didn’t want you to be worried, that’s all. Like I said, it’s… normal to me. Like any other day.” He tries to brush it off and return his focus to the movie. But he can’t help but find himself sneaking glances at his arm. And your fingers making slow, even circles on his skin. He feels his stomach sinking, but he doesn’t fight it like he usually would…

You shake your head and look up at him. Biting your lip a bit and softly whispering. “No… I mean… you didn’t let me touch them like this… is that the only reason you didn’t let me touch them before?”

Leon swallows, realizing what you’re trying to say. He looks back at your hand looking at your loving touch, his heart pounding in his chest was not helping him either. And he wonders If she’s this intimate with me… Why did I try to shut it down earlier? Is this how it feels?

“Were you… Afraid? That I would judge you?” Your soft voice bringing him to reality once more and making him think about that answer. Torn between telling you the truth or lying to avoid being vulnerable further and be dismissive about it.

But maybe it was your voice that gave his poor soul a hope that someone gave a damn about him, your eyes which were curious but also concerned for him or your soothing touch which had some miraculous power to be able to quiet down his anxiety and trauma driven thoughts. So he opens up. Just once.

He's silent for a few more moments and nods. “… yeah. I was.” He says after a while, his voice quiet. He looks down at your fingers again thinking why would you even bother making him feel better about himself. “You've never been close… like this with me… so… intimate.” He murmurs. “I was scared to let you get this close, I… I wanted it. But I…” He doesn’t need to complete that sentence, you can guess what he means.

He feels a soft peck on his cheek, feeling your soft lips lingering there for a moment. Just a little kiss to calm down his nervousness. And it works… he’s distracted that you did it but also so grateful. He looks over at you, still not used to expressing your attraction to him in these intimate ways. He blushes slightly, a look of soft confusion on his face once more, but he doesn’t seem to mind this time.

“Right…” He mumbles, glancing back at the screen and getting shy. He was so awkward he couldn’t express himself like you could but he also wanted to show you he cared so he brought you close just a little bit as your head was still resting on his shoulder and leaned into you slightly. It’s only a bit. Just enough to get a response, but not too much that he’s pushing the line.

You noticed his efforts and looked up at him with a smile. You couldn’t help but admire the way his hair fell perfectly across his face some of it concealing his blush but just enough to reveal he was blushing and was shy. And his icy blue eyes that shows that he isn’t completely numb to everything life has to offer…

You scoot closer to him almost cuddling with him. And squeeze his arm gently and touches his scars again but this time drawing small stars on them. “Is this uncomfortable?”

He tries not to make a sound afraid that he might ruin this moment. As he feels all these new feelings flow through him making his heart skip a few beats. His body language is soft and comfortable with you.

He swallows and shakes his head. “…no. It’s nice.” He mumbles. He doesn’t move away, or push your hand off him. He then looks down at your hand drawing stars around his scars and sighed softly. A soft smile on his face. He then looks back at the screen but his thoughts focused on you. The movie was almost finished but you both continued to watch it in comfortable silence. He’s always been a nervous guy, but these nerves are the good kind.

You then slowly stop drawing stars and gently hold his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and he feels like his heart could burst out of his chest right now. Feeling your skin on his, your warmth flowing into his soul. He looks at the movie, then at you. How did we get here? When did things… change? Is this for the better or worse? Why even care for a monster like him? He wonders. He looks at your hands intertwined in his. And he swallows hard. He doesn’t pull away, or move your hand. He lets it happen.

“Can I ask you something?” your soft voice comes through and he looks down at you. He nods without hesitation, his head still facing the screen even if the movie was finished and credits were rolling. “Go ahead.” He says, his voice low but still soft.

You clear your throat. You were a bit nervous to ask this questions cause well…it was personal. “You know you don’t have to answer it or anything but I am just curious…Umm…On your missions. Did it ever feel like you won’t return?”

He thinks for a moment, then softly chuckles. “Once or twice…” He mumbles still not facing you. “But I guess when you do this every day… you get used to it.” He swallows hard and sighs. “I have…considered it before though.” He says after a few moments. What would my funeral be like? He had wondered before. Would you even care enough to show up for the last time? Will there be other people there singing how great he was like they did now or would he be tossed aside like trash and replaced by someone young and better, forgotten by all of his peers? Would you just… move on to someone else without giving him a second thought? He shook his head to toss aside those thoughts but he couldn’t. They plagued his mind day and night like a curse.

You nod listening to his words, seeing him space out once more in his thoughts. You then softly say. “And what did it felt like… when you actually returned home? When you thought it was probably your last day on earth… What did it felt like when you came back?” you imagined he was relieved of course but you wanted to listen to him.

You were probably the first person who actually cared enough to ask what he ‘felt’ after & during those awful, god-forsaken missions. You were also the first one who wanted to listen to his story who wouldn’t dismiss him saying ‘this is part of the job’ or ‘everyone goes through this… suck it up’. No you were more kind hearted than that and he couldn’t help but slowly succumb to that kindness.

He swallows hard, glancing at you. He closes his eyes for a moment to think about your question, your hand still intertwining his. Giving him something to ground himself and calm him down. He sighs, and opens his eyes again.

“Relief.” He says simply.

“Relief that I’m not dead. Joy that I came back alive. And… and…” He pauses for a moment, searching for the right words – only to fail to find them. He looks down again looking at the joined hands.

You smile from his words and try to complete his sentence. “Grateful?”

He looks at you, considering your words for a moment. He looks back down and swallows hard and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, grateful. Definitely.” He chuckles, his voice soft and quiet. “And…” He pauses for a moment and adds. “Sometimes a little guilty.” He whispers, looking back at the screen.

That catches you a bit off guard. After all why would he feel guilty when he came back alive? Not expecting him to say of all things. And simply ask “Why?”

“Some of my teammates… they… never made it back. And I should be with them.” He glances back at you. “But I don’t want to be…” He says after a few moments.

He needs a hug. He looks at you, wanting to bury his face in your neck and wrap his arms around your waist and hold you tightly till your warmth envelops him and make him feel safe. But he feels awkward asking for it. Like…would you consider him a weirdo if he asked you for it? He looks away from you and tries not to show the fact he needed someone to just hold him.

You squeeze his hand gently not knowing how far you can go… afraid that he would pull back at any moment after opening so much to you. And softly said. “I am sorry about that…”

He looks down at your hand, your soft skin was a direct contrast when compared to his. His hands calloused and rough but that didn’t stop you from being gentle with him. He then nods, “Thanks.” He says softly and sighs a bit in relief. Feeling a bit better after talking about it.

But he couldn’t help but realize that he was falling for you just like this? And it all felt… so nice? Is that how it feels when you fall in love with someone?

You then look up at him and clear your throat once more. This time you more nervous cause you had a *small* confession to make. “Uhh… by the way… just so you know. I do care, wondering when you will be back. I always wish you come back in one piece.” A blush rising in your cheeks after saying that.

Leon looked down at you surprised and after few beats of silence he softly asks. “Really?” His expression soft and vulnerable.

Honestly, it was a bit hard for you to open up too. You both have never been so… emotionally close like this during the time you have been together. So it’s a bit unnerving but if he could open up so much, you could too.

With a smile you replied. “Well yeah… I mean who would tease me with their awful cheesy jokes when we have movie nights like these…” Trying to make the moment light-hearted with a bit of teasing.

Leon couldn’t help but laugh a bit from the comment and roll his eyes and says. “Yeah? That’s what I am for? Make you laugh with my ‘cheesy jokes'?”

You chuckled and playfully nodded. “Yes… obviously.”

“I can’t believe you are using me just for jokes.” Playfully narrowing his eyes at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh “Well… I can’t help it. I just love your jokes which make me roll my eyes and groan at how stupid they are...”

After a beat, you both share a laugh and Leon playfully says. “You are more cheesy than me.”

“Your fault by the way…” Making Leon smirk a little bit.

You rest your head back on his shoulder and sigh contentedly.

It feels better now that you both have talked about your ‘feelings'. Much more relaxed… Maybe feelings don’t have to be complicated. Walls that you both made back then to protect oneself from a possible heartbreak were slowly crumbling down and you didn’t seem to mind it and neither did he.

Leon sighs and softly says. “Thank you… By the way… I know I am not easy to be with…” Holding you closer and caressing your arm gently.

You shake your head and reply softly. “No, it’s not that… it’s okay. I am actually… okay…with how you are.”

“Really?” He asks, with glancing at you look at your expression. He swallows, his heart racing once more.

You bring your intertwined hands closer and press a kiss to the side of his hand and smile at him. “Yeah… I never found you difficult to be with. I am more myself when I am with you…” Your own heart races at your another small confession, which was huge to him.

Leon swallows, he was sure that you made his heart stop with your words and that little kiss. He looks away from you for a moment and takes a deep breath then looks back at you.

“You don’t find me difficult? A bit too much to be with? Am I…too much?” He asks, his words quiet. He doesn’t want to sound too needy but he is. But there’s no hiding that right now.

You then shake your head and gives him a small smile. “No… I mean.. I get it you know… your job is difficult and you need to be at your best at every moment… But even then, you are just the right amount.”

He blushes a deep red and tries to maintain an eye contact with you but can’t help but shy away. Can’t help but a surge of emotions flowing through his so called cold heart. Finding himself looking at your lush lips- and he struggles to say anything at the moment.

“Just the right amount? Not too much… not too little?” Leon asks cautiously still finding your words hard to believe. Some one who didn't find him too much. It had to a be a dream.

Is this real? Can this be real?

“Yeah you are…” You answer him honestly. And cup the side of his face and caress his jaw gently, softly whispered. “You are perfect to me.”

My heart…

“Can… can I kiss you?” He whispers to you.

“Yes…” You whispered back.

He doesn’t hesitates as soon as you say yes, He leans in and kisses you. Pressing his lips gently against yours. He’s so close you can feel the heat from his body as you kiss. It wasn’t like you never kissed each other… But this one gave you both intense butterflies and made your heart pound like crazy in your chest.

My god…

He pulls away after a moment, his lips soft. He looks back at you, your eyes meet his and tries to speak something but can’t find anything to say. Opening his mouth trying to form words after he kissed the love of his life but words just got stuck in his throat.

You smiled and cupped his face and kisses him on the forehead and softly whisper. “It’s okay… I know… Just relax with me for a moment…”

Wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly and he does the same. Hugging you back just as tightly and resting his forehead against yours. Kissing you softly on the forehead before softly whispering.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

PHEW. God I am nervous about this one... Wish you guys a very happy new year and enjoy the holidays. And I really hope this fanfic made your day! 🥰🥰🥰

Until next time❤

-Bella

#resident evil #resident evil 6 #leon kennedy × reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon re6 #leon vendetta #leon re4 #leon re2 #leon re4r #older leon kennedy #infinite darkness #Leon Kennedy × you #leon kennedy angst #I need to tuck this guy's ass to sleep fr and give him loads of forehead kisses😭😭😭#Need Leon to watch a movie with me and hold me like that😭😭😭😭#death island leon #bella fics #leon scott kennedy

541 notes · View notes

luveline · 5 months

Note

Can I request an Eddie and Roan, where she goes to Wayne's house and Eddie and Reader are there talking with Wayne but also planning what to get Roan for Christmas?

eddie and roan ♡ fem!reader

“Got it?”

Roan nods and hops up the last step to Uncle Wayne's while you and Eddie follow behind her. You're carrying a big Christmas cake held tight to your chest while Roan's father insists on carrying the drinks, an eighteen pack of glass cokes, enough to keep Wayne going for the next two weeks at least, less with help.

“Uncle Wayne!” Roan calls as she opens the door. It swings wide and hits the wall. She doesn't care. She's about to see Wayne for the first time in almost two weeks, and she missed him like crazy. Eddie almost got sick of hearing her ask when he'd be feeling better. “Uncle Wayne!”

The second shout is much more desperate.

Wayne appears in the curve behind the kitchen doorway to smile at her. “Hello, my chicken.”

Eddie snorts and slams the cokes down on the sideboard with a jumble of clinks. Wayne is a great dad, but he never called Eddie anything so saccharine. Bud and babe was about as good as it got. Roan gets all the sweet stuff, chicken and gorgeous and baby girl. It doesn't quite make Eddie jealous —nothing feels as secure in parenthood as knowing someone else loves your kid just as much as you do. Wayne would die for Roan without question. He can call her chicken if he likes.

Roan barrels across the carpet in her Mary Jane's and slams into his legs. He pulls her up into his chest, giving her hair a smattering of quick kisses, her dress bunched by his hugging arm. “It's so nice to see you, honey, I missed you!”

She grins and makes a pleased, almost feral sort of sound as she kisses his cheek. “I missed you too! We missed our sleepover!”

“Yes, we did. So I get you for two days, yes?”

“Yes!” she shouts, looking over her shoulder at you and Eddie to confirm.

Eddie holds up his now empty hands, though they don't stay that way for long as he takes the cake from you. “No arguments here.”

Roan laughs and squeezes herself under Wayne's chin. He wraps her up and keeps her, assessing you and Eddie with suspicious eyes. “How are you both doing?”

Eddie brushes past Wayne to put the cake on the table. Wayne isn't really asking Eddie; they know too much about one another having spent the last decade together, first by sharing a wall and now working side by side at the shop. Eddie's sure Wayne's sick to death of his complaining by now, but you're deserving of some sympathy for sure.

“She's getting better. Aren't you, sweet thing?” Eddie asks you.

“I'm fine,” you say, shooting Wayne a smile. “It was probably the same thing you had.”

“Yeah? He take care of you?”

“Always does. He's never let me down.” You cross your arms over your front. “But how are you doing?”

“I know you missed her,” Eddie interjects, “but if you're not feeling up to it, she doesn't have to stay all weekend.”

Wayne raises his eyebrows to protest. Roan beats him to it, yanking herself away from his cuddling to glare at the suggestion. “Dad, you said!”

“Said I'd see if he was up to it, yeah,” Eddie placates.

“I'm up to it.” Wayne gives Roan a soft smile. “We'll be good, right? Watch TV, eat hot dogs for breakfast, lunch, ‘n’ dinner. Dad's just being silly.”

Roan leans back into the hug, relieved, and Wayne pulls her head to his chest, covering her ear subtly. “Thought you needed to get some things? You know, from Santa?” he whispers, ‘Santa’ mouthed without sound.

“Yeah, if we knew what to get her,” Eddie says, brushing his hair behind his ears. “Kid's impossible. Asked Santa for a baby sister and a pet turtle.”

“What's wrong with that?”

“Wayne–”

“The turtle, I mean.” He nods at you apologetically.

You aren't offended at the idea of a baby sister being an easy gift, and you laugh at his correction. “We don't have room for the tank, I already checked.”

“She got the measuring tape out and everything.”

“What?” Wayne asks. “Put it outside.”

“It's not that easy,” Eddie sighs morosely. “They're very particular creatures.”

“It’ll suit you nicely, then.”

You laugh again. Roan wriggles to be put down, curious at the sound, though she wasn't as deafened as it seemed. “Santa will bring the tank, guys, that's how Santa works, and the turtle. We just need to move the couch,” she says simply.

“Where will we watch TV?” you ask.

“Here?” Roan suggests.

Eddie nudges Wayne in the side. “Looks like I'm moving back in after all.”

Coats are taken off, shoes stacked in a corner. Wayne makes everyone a cup of coffee and a sandwich, even Roan, though her coffee is milk with just a splash of coffee that she begs for but doesn't touch after the initial sip. Theories for where they might house and care for a pet turtle are shared through crumbs and foam moustaches, Wayne with a lap full of grandchild, and you with an armful of Eddie. He keeps turning to you to scan your face for signs of fatigue or sickness, eyes lingering, his hand resting and rubbing at the top of your thigh.

“We'll have to give up our room,” he suggests to you with an air of defeat. Despite his sombre tone, love lines his gaze. “When the turtle gets huge and wants to go back to the ocean, we'll have to fill our bedroom up with a swimming pool.”

Roan sits back guiltily. “Well, maybe not like that. Can the turtle sleep with me?”

“That could be fun. We'll get you a water bed,” you say, to Eddie's delight. He chokes on a handful of chips and needs to be whacked on the back lest he asphyxiate, and while you're still laughing at your own joke and his reaction, you pat him more gently on the back before passing him your full coke. “Here, handsome.”

Wayne's pretty sure his nephew's found his soulmate. “What about a tortoise instead?” he asks Roan, attempting to spare you both.

Roan pouts at her Uncle, confusion furrowing her thin brows. “What's the difference?”

“Couple hundred dollars?” Eddie asks.

Wayne kicks him under the table, but never hard enough to hurt. “Nothing much, chick. I'm sure Santa will figure it out.”

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xiao-come-home · 4 months

Text

Argenti relationship headcanons;

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

✰ Characters: Argenti x reader.

✰ Words: ~1k.

✰ SFW ; gn!reader, no mentions of pronouns. fluff.

Warnings: might be slightly sug/gestive here and there. i tried but he's too hot :pensive: written with jp voice in mind

A/N: I'm honestly so surprised there's so little Argenti content that IM OFFENDED. i need MORE OF HIM BEING CUTE AND LOVING ME. i cant pull him now but i next time he wont escape me

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Argenti:

He absolutely wakes up looking like a princess. Sun rays illuminating his face so beautifully, his chest slowly rising up and down (and his um, chest muscles being also blessed by the sun rays if you get me), his lips parted ever so slightly, hair sprawled out, but still looking untouched by the nights sleep.

His long eyelashes flutter open, and his emerald eyes scan the room drowsily; once the knight sets his eyes on you, he smiles to himself and turns to his side to face you.

He admires you sleeping, for... quite some time. Even if your hair is not perfect at all, or there's a drool running down your face - he's mesmerized. and I truly mean it, he's trying to calm down the butterflies in his stomach. Argenti can't help but cup your cheek and caress it gently with his thumb; his sleepy smile growing even wider when he feels you stir in your sleep.

even though it's never in his intentions to awaken you (he actually kinda wishes you kept sleeping so he could still admire you lol), he takes advantage of that and begins to place warm and slow kisses on your face to wake you up. his hair shields you from the harsh sunlight, faintly tickling you here and there.

hear me out, it surely looks nice from your angle, but his back muscles..

depending on your mood, these kisses may trail somewhere else. i mean.. can you imagine him between your thighs. because i can and it's not making me feel well.

"my brightest rose, good morning. seeing your magnificent eyes once again fills me with happiness and energy for the upcoming day." wipes off your drool sexily

he sleeps SHIRTLESS (you told him you were cold. he pretended to believe it).

random dances across all the planets at (seemingly) random times. he doesn't care whether you can dance or not, but he'll be honored to teach you if you wish. argenti would absolutely get you to dance whenever you feel down just to make you laugh; wrong moves don't matter - it'd probably hurt you more if you stepped on his armor...

listen. he doesn't care if it's cringe, but he will hold a rose between his teeth and dance with you, if that's what makes you laugh.

has probably thought once or twice if you're the truest manifestation of Idrila. He's never been so mesmerized by someone's beauty, so... maybe? ... *rubs hands and smirks*

does NOT give a single sheet if he's in public or not - but he always, ALWAYS kisses you like it's your last kiss. They're so passionate, intimate, and sensual, that it makes people flustered at the sight of you. He pulls you close by your waist, swiftly switching his hands to cup your cheeks; the knight puts his forehead against yours and whispers a few silly words before finally connecting your lips together. The kiss, although as simple as it could be, leaves you hungry for more - it takes a while for him to finally part, but just enough to refill the air in your lungs.

now, it wouldn't be as awkward to other people if it took you a few minutes, but argenti TAKES HIS TIME. he has to kiss you (or makeout at this point lol) until your lips are swollen from his kisses. then he moves on to his duties like nothing happened.

he truly wants you to hold him by his waist when you two kiss, or at least have your hands on his chest. he'll put them on the desired place by himself if you don't do it. what a dork.

touch is just so, so important to him. he has a hard time getting rejected, no matter if it's a hug or kiss, it makes him feel unwanted. he won't show it outside much, but he might be less... dramatic and excited than usual.

he SO SHOWS OFF FOR YOU it's almost reckless sometimes. "My lady, fear not, as I am here to protect your beauty until my very end!" Argenti kisses your knuckles before parting to defeat the enemy with ease.

Calculated how to fall just enough to dramatically appear on his knees and put his hand on his heart before you, "Beloved, the evil has been obliterated with the power of love my heart stores for your beautiful soul!"

He KNOWS his cheesy lines either make you cringe (with love), laugh or you're just an adorable soul who genuinely likes lines like these, he RAMPS them up like crazy.

just throwing it out there so we're clear: to argenti, consent is a must, regardless of the activity. no consent, he's moving on. thinks consent is se/xy. HE'S THE EMBODIMENT OF CONSENT.

his hair probably smells really nice. a faint smell of strawberry, perhaps..

the beauty knight usually wants you to stay out of battles, but holy sheet if he sees you kick someone's ass so good, he's impressed and proud. probably needs a bathroom break also..

"oh, how much do i wish that was me instead..." - argenti probably

actually wouldn't mind to have friendly spares with you from time to time - it's a good opportunity for both to test your skills. or maybe give argenti an opportunity to straddle you... that's also an option.

remembers every date that's important for you. in return, he doesn't really care about his, but might tear up when you show up with a gift.

he'd actually love to help you dress up! nothing sexual involved, just pure intimacy of helping his beloved. his moves are precise, careful not to harm you in any way with his armor; he relishes in the feeling of your skin being so tender compared to his.

#BARK BARK GRRRR WOOF #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr argenti #argenti #argenti x reader #.headcanon #sorry for the long break again </3

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billyrayjo · 4 months

Text

Stumbling Home With You

Azriel x Reader

In which the reader gets drunk and has a certain shadowy boy there to take her home.

Warnings: cussing, mentions of alcohol, fluff, smut.

Small announcement: Y’all I am a SLUT for Azriel. I swear, with how many scenarios I’ve read/ imagined about him I am HORRIFIED that SJM’s depiction of him is going to be underwhelming. I have a few more ideas in the works, possibly even a long series. I would like to write a few fluff and angst fics only just for those who don’t like smut (and I do feel awkward writing it sometimes too lol). I’m working on a masterlist as well. Feel free to leave requests! In the meantime, enjoy this scenario that I’ve imagined one too many times about daddy azzy 🤭.

Pounding bass worked its way through your limbs as you pushed yourself through the crowded bar. You and your friends had decided on a night at Rita’s, finally blowing off some steam after the stressful months you had endured. You had just picked up your current drink from the bar, making your way back to the booth your friends occupied.

As you approached, slurping down some of the cool liquid, you felt eyes turn to you. “Are you almost ready to go, (Y/N)?” Rhys questioned, his voice slightly raised to ensure you heard him over the loud music and chatter. “Guuuyyyss. It’s not even one yet! I get you’re all getting old and doing adult things, but you need to let loose!” You whined, plopping down in the booth beside Feyra. “Oh please. We’ve endured enough of your sloppiness in our lifetimes to call the night early.” Rhys teased, a feline smirk taking over his face.

After much pleading, and attempts at convincing, your friends were unwavering. Each one standing to grab their things and telling you goodnight one by one. You huffed to yourself, your arms crossing as a drunken pout took over your features. You sagged in the booth, your eyes closing to fight off the blur in your hazy vision. How much had you drank?

Just as you were about to start counting to yourself, you heard a muffled “Let me walk you home, (Y/N)” from your right. You slightly noticed the shadows whirling around your crossed arms when you shot your gaze over to him, confusion scrunching your brows. “You stayed?” you questioned, trying to think back to telling everyone bye. Now that you were looking back on it, you realized a certain shadowsinger had never bid his farewells.

“Of course I did.” He replied, a hard look taking over his features in his seriousness. You sighed again, going to stand from the booth before replying, “Okay, Azzie. You can walk me home.” softly smiling in his direction. He slid out of the booth behind you, and you obliged when he helped you slip your coat on, pulling your hair out from underneath the collar for you.

Stepping outside, the wind chill made you shiver as a gust of it swept over you. “Mm. It’s cold” you muttered, hands coming up to wrap around yourself. Azriel chuckled beside you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back to guide you forward. “If you’d hurry up we wouldn’t have to be out here for long.” He teased, the corner of his mouth raising slightly. You feigned an offended look, softly swatting his chest as you huffed. “I am not -“ you tripped up, heels scuffing on the cobblestone beneath you, “slow”. The line of his smirk only deepened as he watched you, hands coming out to steady you if needed.

You continued walking, Azriel’s arm coming to rest on your shoulders, pulling you tighter into his side. “Am I really a sloppy drunk?” you whispered, your thoughts going back to Rhys’s comment, regret taking over your features. The last thing you wanted to do was inconvenience your friends with your behavior. If it was true, you would probably never touch alcohol again just to keep the burden off of them.

“No. You’re a cute drunk.” He replied, matter of factly. Somehow pulling you closer into him. You smiled at that, an idea flashing in your mind as you stilled, Azriel coming to a quick halt beside you. You quickly turned to face him, gaze gleaming in excitement as you spoke, “We should prank them!”. “Prank them how?” he whispered, his gaze burning into yours, an unreadable look on his face. You felt your cheeks tint at the intensity, before muttering, “Nevermind. I think I’m too scared of Cass’s retaliation to do that.” a small giggle escaping you as you pictured Cassian’s revenge.

A small smile took over his mouth as he watched you. Azriel reached up, hands playing with the collar on your coat, fixing it, and whispered “Yeah, I think we might need to get you home for the night. Too cold out here.” his eyes still piercing yours. Staring at his smirk, you slowly reached your arms under his coat, shuffling closer to him, and hugged him. Your hands connecting on his back, the warmth from his coat already soothing you. You sighed, your eyes closing in contentment as your face rested against the hard surface of his chest.

His arms slowly came up behind you, one hand softly resting against the back of your head, the other wrapping around your shoulders protectively. His head dipped slightly, and a chill went through you as you felt his breath fan through your hair in a long exhale. You could almost feel the tension leaving his body, the thought of you soothing him as much as he did you making your heart jump in your chest. You slowly pulled away, eyes heavy as you looked up at him and whispered, “Thanks for always taking care of me Azzie.”.

He studied your face for a long moment, a sly grin slowly spreading over his face before quickly leaning down and grabbing you. You squealed as he lifted you, tucking you into his chest as he hauled you up, bridal style. Before you could protest, he shot off the ground, wings flapping as he soared into the night sky. “Hey!” you gasped, turning to face him with a faked anger. He only looked forward, the corner of his lip slightly raised as he muttered “You were taking too long. Gonna get sick.”. You only rolled your eyes, deciding to just lay your head in the crook of his neck for the remainder of the flight. Whether the fluttering in your stomach was from the alcohol consumption mixed with sudden movement, or your close proximity to the shadowboy, wasn’t decided.

“Hey.” you stirred, a soft groan leaving your lips as you felt movement underneath you. “We’re home.” sounded from above you in a soft whisper, causing you to slowly flutter your eyes open to take in your surroundings. You were still in Azriel’s arms, standing in the kitchen of the house of wind. You sighed, slowly slipping out of his grasp, your feet taking a second to solidify your stance. Damned heels. His hands stayed on you as you stood, one of them slowly taking yours as he pulled you towards the table. He pulled out a chair, ushering you into it before walking towards the cabinets. Your eyes were slowly drifting shut when a movement in front of you jolted you back up.

Azriel slipped a mug of tea in front of you, right next to a sandwich. You smiled shyly, reaching forward and taking the warm glass into your hands. “You didn’t have to make me tea.” slipped past your lips over the lip of the cup, sighing in delight at the warmth passing through your body. “I wanted to.” comes from your left, eyes locking on Azriel sitting in a chair diagonal from you. You slowly reached down, grabbing the sandwich before you split it in two, holding a half out to Azriel as you demanded “You eat too.” . You could tell he was about to deny you, quickly shooting out your bottom lip, puppy dogging him. A sigh escaped him, his hand reaching out to take the half-sandwich from you.

After your cup was emptied, you stood. You gathered the used dishes in your hands, heading towards the sink. Once you got there, you gently rinsed off the dishes, humming softly to yourself. You stilled when you felt a presence behind you, Azriel’s chest slowly pushing into your back, your head just below his collar. You glanced over your shoulder, heart fluttering, as you took in Azriel reaching for something over your head. His body pressing into yours immediately had you wide awake, continuing on the dishes even though you were pretty sure you had washed the plate already. He slowly retreated, and you turned around, looking at him in question. “Take this.” he murmured, holding out a small capsule of something in his hand. “What is it?” you questioned, already reaching out to grab it before you even knew what it was.

“It’s supposed to help with headaches.” he inquired. “Madja made them for me.” He added on softly at the end. You knew he suffered from nightmares a lot, sometimes even hearing his pained yells from down the hall, but you didn’t know it was bad enough to need medication for it. You nodded, sadness etching its way onto your face as he dropped it into your hand, a glass of water appearing in your other one. The house of wind really did have perfect intuition. After you gulped down the capsule, you finished off the water before placing that glass in the sink as well, turning back around to find Azriel standing in the same spot.

“Woah. Why the sad face?” he asked, taking half a step closer to you. “It’s nothing.” you lied, not making eye contact with the male to try and hide the emotion in your gaze. “Come on (Y/N/N). I know you better than that.” he pushed, moving closer to grab your chin and raise your gaze to his own. “I’m just tired, Az.” You deflected, actually yawning for real afterwards, thanking the cauldron that it made you somewhat believable. He nodded, slowly pushing you forward, his front pressing into your back as he lead you up the stairs. He kept guiding you into your room, you immediately throwing yourself onto the bed, your eyes too heavy to fight against.

You slowly sat back up as you felt a soft graze against your ankle, blinking down at Azriel gently unclasping your heel. Something pulsed in your lower belly as you took in the sight of Azriel on his knees before you, pushing the thought away as quickly as it came before he sensed the shift in you. He moved onto the next one, collecting your heels in his hand before standing. He deposited them onto your shoe rack, steering towards your dresser. He didn’t even have to ask as he opened the third drawer from the top, pulling out one of his donated black t-shirts that you adored, closing the drawer back and coming back towards you. You stood as he approached, and he tapped his knuckle against your wrist, muttering an “arms up.” as you obliged.

He deposited the shirt over your head, turning you around so he could pull your hair from that too. He let you take over as you shimmied out of your mini dress underneath, letting it drop to the floor in a soft thud. He bent down to grab it, you lifting your feet one by one to help him, hands bracing on his shoulders. He tossed it across the room into your hamper before he headed to your bathroom. He had seen you enough times in the middle of the night to know that a big tshirt was what you preferred to sleep in, definitely not noticing the way you failed to wear any pants a lot of the time.

When Azriel returned, you were back to sitting on the edge of the bed, his tall frame coming to stand between your legs like it was muscle memory. You raised your head up, shutting your eyes as he gently started wiping the makeup off of your face. When you thought he was finished, you fluttered your eyes open, gasping when you saw him staring down at you, the wipe halfway lowered. The hand that was resting under your chin slowly slid down, instead landing on your throat as he gently pushed your head even further back.

You exhaled shakily as his other hand dropped the makeup wipe, coming up slowly to thumb at your bottom lip. He kept his gaze on you, a fire in his eyes you didn’t miss as he pulled your lip down, his jaw clenching. You didn’t even realize you were panting softly until you felt the hand on your neck start sliding upwards, it instead wrapping around the back of your neck and lacing into your hair. The warm faelight casted a glow against your face, hopefully blocking out the blush on your cheeks at the intensity.

Without thinking, you slowly let your gaze drop to Azriel’s lips as his tongue darted out to wet them. You felt your own mouth doing the same, almost copying him, before you looked back up into his eyes, his gaze considerably darker. Azriel slowly pulled, raising you to your feet as he stepped even closer to you. Your heart short circuited at the feeling, your hands instinctively reaching out to rest on his chest, his hands still holding your head. His hand continued its firm grip in your hair, your neck still craning back to look at him. You instinctively licked your lips again at the sudden dryness, and watched as Azriel’s gaze flew down to your mouth.

He inhaled a rough breath, almost growling, as he rushed out a “Please don’t hate me for this.” and pulled you to him, landing his mouth on yours. It happened so quickly, you took a beat to realize what was happening. When you did, your eyes softly fluttered closed, your hands gripping into his shirt. You could hear your heart beat in your ears, feel a burning in your chest, smell the misty wooden scent coming from him. His shadows swirled around you, tickling your legs and back in their haste. He slowly started working his lips against yours, and you reciprocated the action. You let out a whine at the teasingly slow movement, needing something to happen. He groaned, pulling away for a millisecond before coming back in, the kiss a million times more heated than before. You felt yourself move up onto your toes, your hands wrapping around his neck to bury in his hair.

The fight for dominance didn’t last long, Azriel quickly taking over the make-out session after your weak attempt. Hand still in your hair, the other on the base of your throat, he started walking you backwards toward the wall. You felt the cool wood on your back, arching slightly at the shocking cold against your skin. A gasp escaped your lips as Azriel grabbed your leg, hooking it around his waist. After that one was secure, he grabbed the other, lifting you completely into his hold. He moved down to work on your neck, your breath hitching with how needy you were. You moaned when Azriel’s lips found the soft spot below your ear, his tongue working over the spot before he gently nipped at it. You pulled at his hair, earning a soft growl from him as you whined “Please, Azriel.”. He moaned at the sound of his name, his head thrown back, throat working against the noise. He dropped his gaze back to you, his raspy voice coming out low, “Please what, baby?”

You pulled him back down to you, your lips finding his once more, your hips instinctively writhing as you searched for something, anything to relieve the knot in your belly. A whine left your lips at his words, and you clutched even harder into his hair, one hand dropping to dig your nails in his shoulder. At the feeling of your heat grazing the front of his pants, he bucked his own hips up into you, a small whine escaping his lips as well. You gasped, eyes rolling back and head dropping against the wall at the feeling. He thrusted into you again, the feeling of his bulge grazing against your core making the world disappear around you.

Suddenly, you were ripped from the wall, instead being deposited on the bed in a breath. Azriel stared down at you, his wings expanding slightly behind him as he took you in. Your body shook with anticipation as he slowly started stalking towards you, his hands pulling his shirt over his head, discarding it onto the floor.

Suddenly, you realized that the soft and shy Azriel was gone… and this Azriel was going to ruin you.

Part 2?

#azriel x reader #fluff #comfort #azriel #acotar

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