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fallingintoyourlilaceyes · 2 months

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There is a first time for everything (Osferth x barmaid!Reader)

synopsis: They say there is a first time for everything, yet never in a milion years would Osferth have thought he would lose that specific first time to someone as gorgeous as you.

warnings: Osferth being teased for being a virgin, basically pwp, p in v, oral m receiving, flirty reader, afab reader

word count: 1.8k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by me

“Are you going to stay a virgin forever, baby monk?” One teased, boisterously handing him a cup of ale, just as you passed to fill up their drinks. Osferth’s eyes landed on you almost immediately to, what you assumed, make sure if you had heard that. Only to visibly come to the conclusion that no delusion in the world could convince him that you hadn´t. His ears were pink and his cheeks burned cherry red. He looked immensely uncomfortable with the teasing, almost like he wants to drown himself in the cup, which gains him a sympathetic look, before you move on to serve the next table. From afar you can still see him take a sip of his drink, trying to appear unbothered by the comments. Just as one of his friends slapped him on the back, causing him to spill some of his drink on his robes. "Monk boy needs to get laid!" he laughed, causing Osferth to further blush and want to die of mortification.

As you pass the table yet again, you give Osferth a small wink and a reassuring smile, though you also make an effort to let your hips sway a bit more than before. You felt yourself weirdly drawn towards his seemingly sweet nature amidst the chaos and depravity of his friends. Osferth felt his face heat up even more, he couldn't help but stare at her ass. He wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Instead, he just continued to wish his friends would stop embarrassing him in front of you already.

Later that night, after closing time, Alenna found Osferth sitting alone, nursing yet another mug of ale. She walked over to him and sat down beside him.

"Where did you leave your loud friends, baby monk?" You lean in teasingly with her elbows propped up on your thighs and a lazy smile on your lips.

Osferth looked up at you, he noticed how close you were sitting, and he could feel the warmth of your body close by. He also noticed how your breasts pressed together against your tight blouse, and he couldn't help but feel aroused despite himself.

"They... left." he managed to say between sips of ale. He looked away, feeling his face grow even more crimson. "I think they went to visit some brothel or other... They wanted me to join. Said I needed to get laid or something..." he trailed off, not wanting to continue the sentence.

“Hm, it was hard to miss that." You giggle at the memories of their earlier antics. Then you become calmer. "And what do you want?"

He looked at you, his eyes wide and innocent. He had no idea how to act around someone so beautiful and confident.

"W-what do you mean 'what do I want'?" he asked. He had never been approached like that by a woman before, and he didn't quite know how to handle it.

You chuckle and reach out to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers. You lean closer to him, taking note of his scent before speaking softly.

"Desires. You want something don't you?" Your breath is hot against his ear as you whisper the word. "Or maybe you're tired of those loud friends telling you what to do?”

You pause to let the words sink in for a moment then you speak once more. “To ask in more plain language... Do you want to lose your virginity or are you content keeping it? It is all up to you. No one else should make that decision for you."

Silence settles over them. The choice truly is up to him and whatever it would be, she would respect it. Osferth felt his heart race as you spoke softly into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. He swallowed hard, trying to gather the courage to speak.

"I... I don't want to keep it," he managed to say, his voice barely audible. He could feel the stiffness growing between his legs as he thought about losing his virginity.

"Aren´t you sweet?" You coo against his lips, teasing a kiss, before you lets your lips wander down his neck. Never once actually letting them touch his skin. "Just remember, should you ever wish to stop or want me to do something specific just tell me. I want this to be as pleasant for you as it possibly can be."

As you began to tease him with kisses along his neck, you also remove his robes, listening the soft moans. The blond shut his eyes tightly for a moment, he had always been taught that sex was something shameful and dirty, yet he found himself getting harder and craving the touch with each passing second as you undressed him.

When you reveal his cock, he watched as you admired it, your hand moving gently over it. Applying soft pressure to make it leak even more of the pearly precum, which collected at the tip of his member, from your place on the floor between his legs. He felt a surge of pleasure throughout his entire body.

“Is that alright?” you ask in a raspy voice as you feel him shiver.

He nodded silently, unable to find the words to speak. So, he let out a soft moan as Alenna’s hand continued to work magic on his length, driving him closer and closer to release.

"Use your words, baby monk. Tell me what you want." You try to coax an answer out of Osferth. Though it is clearly visible that he is overtaken by the pleasure he had never felt before.

His mind raced as he tried to think of how to express what he wanted but found himself unable to form coherent sentences. All he could manage was a series of incoherent grunts and groans as your hand continued rubbing his cock. The shaft twitched seemingly restlessly in your palm as you move your head down to lick small stripes at his sensitive, flushed tip. Instinctively Osferth´s hand comes to guide your head deeper onto his cock. Slurping and slight gagging sounds fill the room until you eagerly get pulled off him with a desperate whimper.

You know he is close. It is etched into every small muscle and crease of his face and so you let him move you away before you ask. “Where do you want to come?”

"Fuck me... please... fuck me..." He managed to gasp out. “I want to come inside of you.”

And with those words, he surrendered completely to the pleasure of the moment, letting go of any shame or hesitation that he might have felt any remnants of before.

Quickly you move your skirt and any other clothes out of the way and sink down on his lap with his cock buried deep in your tight folds, gasping at how well he filled her out. Osferth´s hands find their way to your breasts, cupping them gently and massaging them as he felt her tightness wrap around his throbbing member. At the same time, you bury your hands in his hair. The pace of your thrusts is barely matched by his desperate strokes, trying to keep up with all the intense sensations. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of pleasure, and he didn't want the moment ever to end.

The slight upwards curve of his cock has Osferth´s length rub against that special spot inside with every thrust, making you see stars as you throw your head back in pleasure.

"So good." There is a drawl to your words from the cloud of pleasure that overwhelms your own brain. "Fuck, you can touch me harder. I won't break."

Osferth let out a low groan and complied with her request, increasing the force of his strokes, and gripping her breasts more firmly as he felt her body trembling above him. He could see the pleasure etched onto your face like you were an open book and he found himself feeling incredibly satisfied by bringing you such joy.

"I'm not gonna last much longer..." You mewl, bringing one of your hands down between your thighs to caress your sensitive pearl, heightening the pleasure that made your walls grip his cock even tighter. Osferth felt your approach to orgasm and increased the depth of his thrusts even further, wanting to give her as much pleasure as possible before you both released. He watched as your hand worked its magic between your legs, committing the movements and your in pure ecstasy contorted face to memory. When he is sure what to do, the blond gently pushes your hand aside to replace your finger with his thumb, rubbing the same circles into your flesh. As he takes over on rubbing circles into your clit your hands go to hold onto his shoulders to keep from slumping against his chest.

It doesn't take long for your movements to falter under his ministrations, waves of pleasure shaking your body as the knot that had built in your lower stomach snaps. Osferth however continues to fuck into you, chasing his own release, which claims him only moments later. Encouraged by your fluttering walls, rolled back eyes and downright sinful moans.

As you let out a long, drawn-out moan and cried out in pleasure, Osferth let out a loud groan and came inside of you, filling your womb with his thick seed as he experienced the ultimate pleasure of release for the first time. He felt like he was on fire, every nerve in his body burning with need even after his peak had stopped overwhelming him.

You stay in Osferth´s lap until the two of you have found your breath again and his cock has softened inside of you. Only then, you stand up to go clean up.

"How was that for a first time?” You ask him with another lazy smile and hazy eyes that glow in the light of your previous orgasm as you fix his messy hair with gentle touches and clean his cock with a damp towel. Osferth looked down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion, his member still throbbing under the gentle, lukewarm towel. He nodded in response to your question, unable to speak for the moment due to lack of breath.

"I do not feel like I've done justice to how amazing you felt around me." He answers once he regains his mind, a weak grin grazing his lips.

He couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. A bell like giggle escapes you at his statement.

"Well, you could always come back tomorrow..." You invite him in a sultry tone, eyes falling half close to give an equally seductive look.

The next day you hear his friends before they even enter the tavern. Smiling to yourself as you go to greet them and take their orders of assumingly more ale, it becomes more clear that they remained unaware as to what happened to their friend after they left the prior night. So, Alenna gives Osferth a wink and whispers loud enough for everyone to hear. "I cannot wait to see you again later. I had a lot of fun last night..."

#osferth #osferth tlk #osferth the last kingdom #osferth x reader #osferth x you #baby monk #osferth fanfic #the last kingdom #tlk #the last kingdom fanfic #tlk fanfic

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nom-nommmm1 · 1 month

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Hi Oli,

I love your Lords Of Chaos stories so much, so could you write one for me? :)

I was thinking about Pelle x Fem reader, where she's Euronymous sister, and they have to keep their relationship a secret.

Xoxo and also I just saw that you write for some niche fandoms I really love, I can't wait for more stories to come

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET - PELLE/DEAD

Masterlist + taglist

AHHH HI ANON!! I’m so happy you like my stories! You’ll never know how much it means to me 🫶 also I’ve had ‘dirty little secret’ by The All-American Rejects stuck in my head FOR A WEEK truly amazing timing anon. But anyways, I look forward to see you request other fandoms soon. Also I didn’t know if you wanted to make this a smut or fluff so I’m gonna do fluff bc I’ve been in such a fluffy mood lol, request another if you’d like smut and I’ll gladly do it ❤️

Content warning !!: sweet!pelle x fem!reader, fluff?? There’s a suggestive part butt they don’t actually do it, kissing, hair pulling

The doorbell rings as the tussling of keys can be heard from Euronymous’ hands. “I got it!” I shout, opening the door to see Pelle standing there awkwardly. “Hey Pelle! You’re just in time, we’re all about to head to the movies” I say looking at the blonde haired boy, his cheeks turning a slight pink tone. “Oh yea uhm..Euro texted me” he says avoiding my gaze. He shuffles away from the doorway, letting Euronymous and I out. We all proceed to get into Euros car. “So are Faust and the guys meeting us there?” Pelle asks after a few minutes of nothing but the sound of the radio.

“Yeah, they’re just gonna be a minute since traffic’s pretty bad on their side” Euronymous says, putting his foot to the gas as the light turns green. Pelle nods, staring out the window, looking around at all the passing cars. I look at Pelle, he looks..tired? “You alright?” I ask. The blonde looks at me, seeming somewhat surprised by me breaking the silence. “Yea I’m fine y/n” he says looking back out the window to avoid the conversation.

The car pulls into the movie theater parking lot, we all get out walking up to the register. “Hello, what movie are we seeing today folks?” The cashier asks politely. “Three tickets for the conjuring” Euronymous says, placing the money on the counter. “Of course, the concessions are inside” the cashier says handing us our tickets. Euronymous nods in acknowledgment, holding the door open for Pelle and I.

Walking up to the concessions counter Euro turns to us. “What do you guys want?” He asks pulling out a 20 dollar bill. “Popcorn and a slurpy?” I ask. “Sure sis, what about you Pelle?” He asks turning to the blonde. “Oh- I’m fine with whatever,” he says quickly, almost taken out of a trance. “Alright, you guys can sit down while I pay for this stuff” Euronymous says, pointing to the tables next to the bathrooms.

I nod walking over to the table, Pelle following close behind. We sit down. I look at Pelle, taking in his features as he refuses to look at me. “What’s wrong?” I ask putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Nothing y/n” he says moving out of my touch. Euronymous comes back with a handful of snacks. “Come help me get the rest guys” we all grab our own snacks and drinks. “Sorry you guys are going to have to share popcorn, I was two bucks short to get another” Euro said as we walked down to our designated auditorium. “It’s fine Euro” I say as we take our seats.

The theaters lights dim as music from the projector plays, the movie is finally starting after what feels like an hour of previews. I go to reach for the bag of popcorn accidentally putting my hand on Pelles, immediately pulling away. “Sorry” I say quickly before turning back to the movie. The movie continues on, the main character jumping out into the frame of the projector screen.

The audience chuckles as they say a joke as a criminal swings at them. I take a sip of my slurpy taking a brief glance at Pelle. I look away as I see his eyes look over to me. I lean to Euronymous, whispering in his ear. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll be back” he nods as I get up from my seat, walking down the dimly lit movie theater stairs.

I walk into the bathroom, splashing water in my face, starting to sob into my hands. After a few minutes I hear slight knocking on the bathroom wall, a figure slowly coming into my line of vision. The figure comes closer to me, rubbing my back. “I’m sorry we have to do this” the figure says. “What..?” I ask looking up, at first confused but soon my confusion is clarified as I see Pelle, still there rubbing my back.

Pelle frowns, wiping my tears away. “I can’t stand to see you cry, but you know why we have to keep this a secret, right?” He asks coming closer to me. I nod looking into Pelles warm brown eyes. “I know, Euro won’t allow it” I reply sniffling. Pelles frown grows and he wraps his arms around me, putting his head in my neck giving me a small kiss.

“Just wait a little longer, we can convince him” Pelle says brushing my hair out of my face. I nod again looking at him glumly. “Hey it’s okay, I promise” he says smiling, waiting for me to smile back but I don’t. Pelle then puts me into a kiss, my eyes widen in shock but I kiss him back passionately. I wrap my arms around Pelles neck. Pelle kisses me harder, putting his hands on my waist, picking me up. “Pelle!” I yelp feeling his hands on my ass, lifting me up.

Pelle places me on the bathroom counter, pushing me against the mirror as his lips attack mine. “I missed this” he mumbles into my lips, coating them with our saliva. I giggle pulling onto Pelles hair. He moans in my mouth, biting my lip and touching up on my body. He’s about to undo his pants before we hear a voice of a staff member. “Get out of there before I call your mamas!!” The staff member screams banging her mop on the floor. Pelle and I bolt out of the bathroom making out to our movie auditorium. “Remember, keep this between us” Pelle says before opening the door for me.

“Of course” I say walking in. “Alright, I’m gonna wait out here for a few minutes so they don’t think anything” he says giving me a quick kiss before shutting the door, smiling.

SORRY FOR THE DELAY BBS IVE BEEN SUPER BUSY N THERES BEEN A BUNCH OF DRAMA W MY FRIENDS BUT IMMA TRY TO UPLOAD

Alt acc: @nom-nommmmworkspace

Taglist

╰┈➤@mxqlss @roseroseluvrr @bkaulitzz @adellaonly @m3tal-chick

#fluff #lords of chaos #nom nommmm1 #euronymous #jack kilmer #rory culkin #pelle ohlin fluff #pelle ohlin x reader #pelle x reader #pelle ohlin #pelle #lords of chaos x reader

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itsgameofthronesimagines · 1 year

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Would you be able to do another Alicent Hightower x fem reader headcanon/imagine? Maybe where the reader is a targaryen/velaryon but enjoys fighting/hunter instead of normal “lady” things?? I’m not great at coming up with prompts so srry if it’s bad, but there’s a lack of Alicent content and I really need some. Thanks!

-🐢

Title: Green With Envy

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,482

Summary: Y/n Velaryon is the best of both of her siblings. She’s a cunning warrior and skilled in fighting like Ser Laenor, and is one of the best dragon riders in all the Seven Kingdoms, like Lady Laena. Alicent would be a fool not to notice this.

Warnings: Anxiety, mostly. Alicent’s riddled with it.

Author’s Note: It’s a short one but I loved the idea of it, nonetheless. I hope you enjoy!

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

“Cousin Y/n. Walk with me. I wish to hear about the years we’ve been apart.”

Alicent could feel her face twist momentarily into a frown against her will as she watched Y/n and a pregnant Rhaenyra leave the room, arm-in-arm, behind her wine cup.

Between the chaos of Vemond Velaryon’s death and the King’s wish for a family dinner, Alicent hasn’t had her usual warrior to stand by her side. Y/n had been reuniting with her nieces and nephews and allowing her mother to dote on her. Alicent couldn’t feel envy from this. Princess Rhaenys lost two of her children in a short span of time, and she would no doubt want to spend her days in King’s Landing beside her last living child.

No, what truly thrusted envy into Alicent’s heart was Rhaenyra, once again taking whatever she wanted without ever facing the consequences. Surely, the princess wasn’t stupid enough to take Y/n away from Alicent as well as everything else. Nothing will take the Queen’s sword shield from her. Nothing.

Y/n has done the impossible. She fought all odds and survived her birth. She claimed the Bronze Fury, Vermithor when she was only ten years old. She rose to the ranks of knighthood even though she was a woman. She put herself in the King’s court and swore fealty to the Queen... She even stole that queen’s heart.

Ser Y/n Velaryon is a perfect mixture of both her brother and sister, therefore a storm, not even her father could tame. And like any storm her family avoids, she swallows up and takes what she wants without mercy. But like many storms, Y/n is also forgiving and gentle, proving the fruits of her labor is well worth her knighthood. She believes in faith and justice, much like a true knight often portrayed in a little girl’s fantasy.

If Alicent was still a little girl, she would have considered Y/n the knight of her fantasy. Now a woman grown, she looks at Y/n and sees so much more. Y/n is more than just the Maiden or the Father. She is the Warrior as well, all of them reincarnated into this woman to tempt the Queen Consort.

Y/n was a powerful ally to the Greens, which made Alicent all the more concerned at the thought of Rhaenyra stealing her away. Should the Blacks want to take her sworn shield, Alicent would be sure to make their efforts a living hell.

These thoughts kept her awake for most of the night, waiting anxiously for her sworn shield’s return. A knock suppresses her door, and the Queen bids whoever was there to enter. Ser Y/n marches in, her helmet under her arm as she dutifully bows her head to Alicent, “Your Grace.”

“What did Princess Rhaenyra want from you?” Was the first thing Alicent could find within herself to ask, standing from her chair by the hearth.

Y/n smiled slightly as she raised her head, “She wanted to know how my days in court have been. She congratulated me when I told her how I was your sworn shield.”

Suspicious and on edge, Alicent clasped her hands together so as not to pick her nails, “That’s all you spoke of?”

“We talked about the baby for the most part. She’s very confident it’s a girl.”

The Queen forces herself to relax, unwinding her hands to lean on the back of the chair. Alicent takes a deep breath, watching the flames dance in the hearth, “I see.”

She hears Y/n’s armor as the female knight takes slow steps forward, and with each step comes the beating of Alicent’s heart, pounding in her ears, “Your Grace, I fear I have news from my mother that may concern you if you mind me telling.”

Her heart sinks before Alicent forces herself to remain undeterred, briefly nodding her head in her shield’s direction, “Please do.”

“She spoke of my father and his health and then mentioned a letter he had sent to her before he sustained his injury. As you well know, with Laenor and Laena dead... Lord Corlys no longer has an heir to Driftmark until Prince Lucerys comes of age. His legacy is dwindling... and so he wishes me to go home and marry the son of a Sealord of Braavos.”

The crackling of the fire fills the room and drowns out the silence. Alicent’s eyes finally move to meet Y/n’s gaze as her stomach drops with dread, “... What?”

Y/n’s sigh was heavy, internal mourning shadowing her features as her eyes dance over Alicent’s, “I am Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys’ last living child... and I am unwed and childless.”

“But you’re a knight!”

A scowl takes its place on the knight’s lips as she spoke ill of her father, “Not even Lord Corlys believes that my vows ring true because of my sex.”

Alicent scoffs in disbelief, turning around and drawing closer to the fire as her nails finally rise to her mouth. Her fingers shake against her lips, her teeth desperately wanting to tear at the skin around her nails, desperate to feel the familiar sting to relieve the stress of her troubles. It was as she feared. The Blacks wanted Y/n, as powerful as she is, with her dragon and her lust for battle. Rhaenyra, yet again, wants to take everything as hers knowing that there is no one able to tell her ‘no’. The princess wants nothing but to cause Alicent pain, as she always has. Even when they were girls, lovesick and innocent of the world, Rhaenyra did as she pleased and gave Alicent grief for worrying so much about her public figure. Either Rhaenyra was blind to life’s expectations of her as a woman, or she just didn’t care and wanted to fly her dragon with Alicent at her back. It was stupid, wishful thinking at the time, and even after all these years, Rhaenyra seems determined to prove her point by taking whoever she wants whenever she wants.

And yet, Alicent also couldn’t help but think of this small betrayal as a political move. House Velaryon was, by all accounts, loyal to Rhaenyra and her succession to the Iron Throne, through her marriage to Laenor and Corlys’ ambition for power. If the Sea Snake felt threatened by the Greens in any way, he would want his daughter removed from her service to Queen Alicent. Rhaenyra might have been aware of this prior to her arrival at the Capitol and could have wanted to persuade her cousin Y/n to the Blacks.

This hardens Alicent’s heart, her back straightening until she’s the regal queen the public believes her to be, her fingers falling from her lips to draw to her sides. Remembering her station and place in this world, Alicent’s persona becomes stern and confident, unlike the young lady she once was, full of crippling anxiety. Turning away from the hearth, Alicent points her gaze back to Y/n.

The change in her posture must have been obvious as Y/n slowly straightens to attention, watching her carefully as Alicent stepped closer. The Queen took several steps until she was close enough to feel Y/n’s breath on her forehead, then proceeded to lift a hand to rest on her sworn shield’s chest plate. With determination and authority, Alicent spoke as clearly as possible, “You are sworn to me. You made your vows to me. As your Queen, I forbid it. I forbid you from leaving King’s Landing. I pray for your father’s recovery... only so that I can tell him this myself.”

Her hand trails further up until it rests on the side of Y/n’s face, and finally, the knight relaxes against Alicent’s touch, shoulders slouching in relief as if she was worried the Queen would obey her father’s wishes. In a small whisper, Y/n nods to Alicent, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Alicent nods sternly despite the hammering of her heart and her wish to smile. Instead, she pulls away, immediately missing the feel of Y/n’s flesh against her skin, but refused to show it. Clasping her hands together to keep them from touching Y/n again, Alicent lifts her chin high, “Tomorrow, I wish to meet Vermithor officially. You must introduce me.”

Y/n’s eyes widen in shock and Alicent can’t entirely blame her for the surprise. She didn’t know what came over her, but Alicent didn’t dare take it back. She was always wary about dragons, even as a girl. She always refused a ride when Rhaenyra offered to take her on Syrax, yet to Alicent, this felt entirely different. Y/n is not Rhaenyra, and Alicent always feels the need to be a part of Y/n’s life, in every way she can be. Knowing her sworn shield to be a dragon rider didn’t bother Alicent like she thought it would, and perhaps that’s how she knew she was in love with Y/n.

Her sworn knight smiled widely, her eyes gleaming against the flames of the hearth, cheeks warm as she bowed, “As you command, My Queen.”

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Please leave your support and if you want a request, send a raven and leave it in the ask box!

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elvisabutler · 1 year

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i think there's still a few hours left for your gala, right?? 👁 if so, id like to request 💻 the angst prompt "no, im actually not ok," w austin.. maybe some h/c after the oscars? 🥺🙏

i don't know what i'm feeling

fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: g, t if you really squint. pairing: austin butler x gender neutral reader word count: 802 warnings: austin being sad post oscars. talk about the oscars. talk about the whale. author’s note: thank you anon and you were right i did have a few more hours when you sent this to me and was hoping someone would allow me the chance to do a hurt and comfort with this. full disclosure to everyone, i said it once before, if austin was going to lose to anyone, i did want it to be brendan because i was iffy on colin. however, i despise of the whale as a movie- and truly wish brendan had won for literally anything else. so do not take anything i have austin say as my own opinion on the movie itself. i hate it. this is for my 1k gala with the angst prompt of “no, i’m actually not ok.” and saints preserve me i'll live in my universe where i made this boy drunkenly say to his girl some nasty sexy things post oscar. also i'm not the biggest fan of this but i can't tell if that's purely because i'm in my own head about it or not. still hope you enjoy. also i didn't mess up my word count for the third time in all my gala pieces, what are you talking about.

It's an honor to be nominated. It's an honor to be put in the same league as actors who've been in the business for decades. It's an honor to be nominated along someone who's going to grow with him in their crafts. If he was going to lose to anyone everyone had said it was going to be him or Brendan and damn if he didn't think the man deserved it. The Whale was tough to watch but it was good- it was the sort of thing that earned an actor their Oscar. He shouldn't be- He shouldn't be feeling the way he does. Bill didn't get a single award all season and Colin went from a frontrunner with him to the afterthought along with Paul.

He can't even talk about this with Barry because it was always Ke's one to lose and he wasn't going to. Maybe Angela- but hadn't hers been wrapped in the grief from losing Chadwick. He still can't believe he heard Samuel L Jackson make a noise for him of all people behind him. He should be happy, this is the start of him finally making a difference. Making his fans proud and happy for him like Elvis. Making his mom proud that all her work wasn't for nothing. Making Lisa and Priscilla proud wasn't for nothing but why does he feel as if it was in this moment. Why is his brain just telling him this is how it starts? He'll have this whirlwind of three years and then three projects back to back to back only to have nothing afterward. Angela feels him tense a little- she must have because she looks at him and squeezes his hand once again before nodding over to you.

You- you can help ease his mind, once you're in the car he'll talk to you, whisper in your ear how this was not how he thought this night would go. His eyes meet yours and you smile gently before shrugging a little. He watches your lips mouth "love you" before he focuses on the last of the awards. It's a bit of organized chaos leaving the theater and it almost seems as if there's just an Elvis line of people walking around hand in hand like a bunch of kindergarteners before Austin and you finally get into a car and you squeeze his hand. "You okay?"

If it was anyone else, if it was Baz or Liv or Catherine or Kelvin or Luke- if it was anyone he'd lie. But you deserve the truth in a way that very few people do in this circumstance. "No, I'm actually not. I- I don't even know what I'm feeling. I'm mad but I shouldn't. I was nominated for an Oscar. I used to dream about this. I almost won an Oscar!"

"You have a Golden Globe! And a BAFTA!" You remind him, your voice matching his in volume before your hand moves to cup his cheek. There's a wet bit that you brush away with your thumb. "You're allowed to feel something, Austin. It doesn't make you a bad person or take away from Brendan's win because I know you, I know we're going to go the party and you're gonna see him and he's gonna give you a big dad hug and you're gonna gush. And you're gonna bounce up and down with Ke and make sure Baz doesn't drink too much because Catherine asked you too."

The laugh that bubbles up from him is wet sounding, covered in unshed tears as he sniffles. "Forgot how I'm gonna tell Luke about Polly making me do some moves for party tricks. And how Kelvin is going to remind me to-"

"Chill out?" You finish like that's actually what Austin was going to say before he shakes his head, allowing himself to just rest his head in your hand.

"Something like that. I just thought- I let my hopes get up." Austin whispers and you frown.

"No one blames you for that, you know. I don't. Tell you what. When we get to the party, how about we just sit in the car for a little bit until you calm down. And then when we get there, we just relax. Just for a little bit until you stop hurting so much. I'll shoo away the cameras with my charm." Austin raises an eyebrow knowing that isn't always how things go with you and him.

"Yeah? No fighting that'll get us both in trouble?"

"Pinky swear." You hold out your pinky as you move to kiss Austin. "Now, how about we focus on our plans for after tonight. I believe someone promised me a vacation?"

Austin's answer is a hum before he gives you another kiss. "How do you feel about the mountains?"

#austin butler #austin butler angst #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fluff #austin butler fanfiction #ally's 1k gala #ally writes

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angryschnauzer · 2 years

Text

Feels Like Home

Summary: Now 6 months pregnant, you’ve spent the week staying at your parents house whilst your home bathroom is remodelled under your husband Henry’s supervision, the reunion at the end of the week is truly welcomed.

Part 8 of my Rugby Teacher Henry Series (previous parts can be found on my masterlist or AO3)

Fandom: Henry Cavill

Pairing: Rugby Teacher Henry x Female Teacher Reader Wife (no body type or race specified)

Wordcount: 2556

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Pregnancy, stripping, fondling in public, horny Henry, stripping, accidental facial dick slaps, bath sex, unprotected sex, premature ejaculation, small refractory period, fingering, clitoral stimulation, breast play, nipple stimulation.

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

Feels Like Home

The playground was complete and utter chaos. The kids in your class were completely crazy at the prospect of going on the field trip to the activity farm and petting zoo, but right now you needed them to calm the hell down so you could count them onto the bus the school had hired for the trip.

“Class… Class please, quieten down!”

Your voice was drowned out by the sound of fifty over excited six and seven year olds, and that’s when you heard it.

“COMBAT LINES AT THE READY!”

The voice sent a shiver down your spine and put an immediate smile on your face, turning to see your husband Henry walking into the playground and smiling at the kids in front of you.

The last week had been tough for you. You’d spent it at your parents house as the bathroom in your cottage with Henry had been refitted, so rather than have to haul your now six month pregnancy bump up and down the stars ten times a night to the shower room off of the kitchen that you’d installed to cope with Henry’s rugby playing, you’d upped sticks and chose to stay with your parents whilst Henry enjoyed a week of not being woken up by your constant tossing and turning. That leads onto why he was joining the staff on the field trip, having offered to be an additional helper so you wouldn’t have to spend the entire day on your feet. His own classes at the high school had now entered study leave ahead of their GCSE exams, so he was a free agent. It had also meant he had started an after school club at your school where he would teach general athletics and a way to tire out the more energetic kids on a friday afternoon. His call out motto that he’d just shouted, and even the kids that didn’t take the class followed the ones that did and within a minute they were all standing in neat lines and in utter silence.

Soon the kids were safely on the bus in their assigned seats, the other teachers running through the safety tips and how the 30 minute ride to the farm was going to go. As you approached the steps you found Henry was directly behind you, and as you lifted your foot onto the first step up you had to suppress the squeal as he splayed both of his huge hands over your ample behind;

“Let me help you up there Mrs Cavill”

He practically launched you up the two other steps, causing you to try and bat his hands away before any of the eagle eyed students saw, instead just the head teacher caught onto what he’d just done, hiding her smile behind her clipboard as she called down the bus for the kids to get settled. As the pair of you settled in seats towards the front Henry pulled his arm around your shoulders;

“So, ready to come home tonight?”

You turned and looked at him in shock;

“The builders are done already?”

He grinned and nodded;

“Yup. Finished late last night, i’ve hired a cleaning maid to get rid of all the dust and make it completely polished by the time we get back this afternoon”

You excitedly shuffle danced in your seat, Henry laughing as you pregnant belly jiggled;

“I’ll make sure the bath is full by the time you get up the stairs”

The school trip was exhausting, but the kids absolutely loved it. Covered in dust, straw, and a sheen of sticky melted ice cream, they were quiet on the bus ride back to school, some even falling asleep as the bus was stuck in traffic. By the time you arrived back at school the parents were waiting and it was a rush to get everyone off and handed over to their grown ups, and by the time the last child had left all you wanted to do was sit down.

“Are you ready to leave?” Henry asked as he carried all the additional supplies into school the staff had taken on the trip

“I’ve got to prep the classroom for Monday, but it should only be 30 minutes. You head home, no need to wait around”

He dumped the bags in the office before turning to you and wrapping his long arms around your expanding waistline;

“I’ll wait, i walked here this morning so i can drive you home, i missed you this week”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before you sighed and wriggled from his grasp, waddling off to your classroom to set out the reading books and pencil pots for after the weekend.

By the time you were close to finishing prepping for the following week your ankles were swollen and you felt ready to drop. Henry saw you were suffering and without a word steered you to your chair as he told you he would finish up, you just needed to instruct him.

"So each table needs workbooks?"

"Yeah, and the copies of animal worksheets"

You watched as your husband carefully made his way around the room, his giant stance making him seem like Gulliver setting up a classroom in Lilliput. You couldn't help but to giggle which caught his attention;

"What's tickling your knickers?" He asked

"Just finding it comical how huge you look compared to the tiny chairs and desks, Gulliver and his Lilliput classroom"

Henry finished stocking the tables and sauntered over to you, a smirk on his face;

"Didn't they tie him down in that movie?"

Raising an eyebrow you returned his smirk;

"You want me to tie you down?"

"Only if you sit on my face" He pressed a kiss to your lips before helping you to your feet.

"Well i need a shower… or bath first, before we do that… a day waddling around a farm and i'm ripe"

As he steered you out of the classroom he rested a hand on your stomach;

"Mmmm ripe"

Laughing you swatted at his arm;

"Keep it under control Cavill"

He held the car door open for you he swatted your ass;

"Just get in the car woman, i've missed you this week, gotta make up for lost time, need to empty my balls before they burst"

Rolling your eyes you stretched the seatbelt across you before tucking it under and above your bump. You'd missed him too, so much.

You sipped on a cool glass of lemonade as Henry unloaded the car, before carrying your things into the kitchen and pressing a kiss to your cheek;

“I’m going to start running your bath, back down in a second”

You heard him take the stairs two at a time, before the telltale sound of water running. By the time he returned you’d finished your drink, pushing yourself to stand before he suddenly lifted you bridal style into his arms;

“HENRY! Put me DOWN!”

“Nope”

“You are going to do yourself an injury! Or drop me!”

“Not if you stop wriggling, i can hip thrust more than you and bump weigh, and i’m upping my weights so i can do it right up until you’re a full 9 months”

You knew full well he could bench press a ridiculous amount of weights, same with hip thrusts that you may or may not - you totally did - have watched repeatedly when he’d posted it on his instagram. You clung to him nervously as he carried you up the stairs before he grinned at you;

“Close your eyes”

You did as he asked before he pushed the door to the new bathroom open with his foot and gently set you down;

“Okay, you can open them now”

You were completely in awe of the stunning job Henry had coordinated on the bathroom, gone were the floral 90s tiles and avocado coloured bath, now it was clean white tiles with aged wooden accents, a pristine enormous bath with a separate double shower on the opposite wall;

“Oh Henry… its… amazing” you couldn’t even help it as you burst into tears, pregnancy hormones becoming completely overwhelming.

Henry wrapped his arms around your stomach as he stood behind you, and it was only when your dress dropped to the floor did you realise he’d been unbuttoning you. Your bra was next to go, before he hooked his fingers into your knickers and pulled them down your legs. Taking your hand he helped you into the bath, passing you a glass of champagne;

“Henry, i can’t drink that”

“It's non-alcoholic. Now sit back and let me switch the bubbles on”

“Bubbles?”

He pressed a button on the side of the bath near the taps and suddenly you were surrounded by therapeutic spa bubble jets;

“Ohhh…”

You rested your head back and let them play over your aching body, before you peeked and saw that Henry was undressing.

“Joining me?”

“In a moment, i’m going to shower first”

“Ooooh a drink and a show” you winked making him laugh.

For two solid minutes you gratuitously watched Henry shower, admiring how the new shower screen stayed fog free giving you a unhindered view of his naked body covered in soapy bubbles. You even let out a disappointed grunt when he shut the water off, only to be able to watch as he stepped out dripping wet and sauntered towards you. You could barely keep your eyes still, the feast before you one adonis would have envied; from his wide shoulders and thick chest down to his thick muscled thighs, but the crowning glory was his heavy thick cock that swung between his legs, growing a little fuller as he watched you watching him;

“Like what you see?”

You reached out and softly cupped his heavy sack now that he was within reach;

“Hmmm, yes very full”

“Scoot forwards, let me slip in behind you”

Doing as he said, the water sloshed around as you moved forwards, getting quite the view as Henry swung his leg over the side to get in just as you turned your head, the wet slap of his heavy dick against your face resulting in a ‘whoops’ as Henry slid ungracefully into the bath behind you followed by a good five minutes of giggles.

When you had both eventually calmed down Henry had wrapped his arms around your torso, his legs either side of your hips and so was effectively caging you in. If felt so good to be completely surrounded by him as you rested your head back against his shoulder;

“I missed this”

“Me too” he softly nuzzled at the side of your head, pressing a kiss to your earlobe as he hands found your breasts and he hummed out an appreciative moan; “Oh these are getting bigger”

“Henry… they’re tender, please be gentle”

“I will babe, I will”

His massive handspan was starting to struggle to encompass your growing breasts, but as he softly cradled them and worked his warm palms over them you could feel your arousal growing. When he dared to carefully caress your nipples you let out a moan, your back arching as you pushed them into his touch;

“Oh Henry”

“Do you like that? You want more?”

You paused for a moment as you found your voice;

“I want you Henry… I need you inside me…”

Henry quickly moved his hands, gripping your hips and thighs just to lift you a little as he angled his hips beneath you, his hardened length seeking out your core like a heat seeking missile. When he breached your body and let you slowly sink down onto his fat dick he was the one to let out a low rumble;

“Oh god… that feels like home…” he grunted a couple of times as he tried to control himself, before letting out a string of curses; “Oh. Oh god… OH. Fuck fuck, so fucking tight, oh shit…”

You had to cling to the sides of the bath as you suddenly felt him buck beneath you, the telltale feeling of him cumming in you as he cursed between strangled cries, before he wrapped his arms around your torso and lay back, letting you rest against his chest as he lost control of his loins and filled you with his creamy seed.

He let out a shaky breath Henry rested his forehead against your shoulder;

“Fuck. I’m so sorry”

Curling your arm above you, you cradled the back of his head, before gently taking his other hand and pushing it to the juncture of your thighs;

“Don’t be… but i’m close Henry…”

As his fingers dived through your folds to seek out your clit, you could still feel his shaft within you, semi hard and swollen, filling your tight walls and plugging his spend deep within you. You felt the rumble in his chest as he circled your clit in tight circles, knowing exactly what you liked after all the years you’d been together. His lips brushed against your neck as he never relented on his clitoral attack, just as his free hand found its way to your breasts, gentleness forgotten as he pawed at your swollen globes, pinching your sensitive nipples. It was all too much stimulation and you came with a cry, your walls gripping and squeezing him so tight he almost gurgled his moan, a litany of curses following that were the soundtrack to your orgasm.

You both sat there in the bubbly water in the afterglow of your mutual bliss, before you shifted and you felt that Henry was now fully hard again;

“Hen!”

“I can’t help it my love… your cunt is like a vice, and i haven’t had it in a week” he smoothed his hands over your swollen belly; “C’mon, time to get out, i need to bend you over and rail you from behind for a good twenty minutes before we order some dinner”

At the mention of dinner you were already pulling yourself up and out of the bath, Henry laughing as you wallowed around and went to grab a towel.

“No no, no towels, i want you wet and slippery”

Giggling you entered the bedroom and stopped in your tracks, letting out a gasp as you looked around. Henry had not only decorated the room with strings of fairy lights and fake ivy to give it a woodland feel, he’d assembled the small bedside crib and filled it with Peter Rabbit toys;

“Oh Henry, its beautiful!”

Wrapping his arms around you he rested his chin on your shoulder, swaying his body against your own;

“So are you. Now get on the bed, i need to defile your body in this little woodland glade”

You turned and raised an eyebrow as he laughed;

“I found your book you’d been reading at night; ‘A Woodland Romance’... i never knew those girly fantasy books were so spicy”

You cupped his cheek;

“Well now you know… c’mon…” you grabbed his hand and walked him to the bed; “Time to do things it’ll give Peter Rabbit nightmares”

“Mmmm…” he grinned and his eyes turned a little darker with lust.

You weren’t sure you could be any more in love with this man than you already were, but in that moment you fell for him even more.

#rugby teacher henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #Rugby Dad Henry

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xadoreyuu · 2 years

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~ hold your breath, love dive. [aemond targaryen]

this is my first fanfic!!! i didn't know whether to add images/gifs in for the aesthetic ™ or to just leave it blank but i thought the gif was pretty so that's my entire thought process lol. reader is afab with she/her pronouns if requested i will write non-binary characters however with the way westeros is i thought my first love dive into writing for the fandom would be with a female reader! i'd also love some feedback for this! it is obviously my first and i'd love some pointers on what you liked/didn't like about it!

premise: reader meets vhagar my queen. i personally chose a random house because even though the show likes inc*st i simply do not f*ck with it in my writing tho if you have any fic recs i'm not saying no... [2954 words]

The betrothal between houses Targaryen and Bolton was a choice not many had seen coming. You especially, you had went from a girl who was content with the fact your father would marry you off to some Lord and you'd live a life, you weren't sure if it would have been a happy one but it would have certainly been a life. You knew Aemond Targaryen was unpredictable, unstable even. He chose to claim a dragon as a preteen, stable wasn't something you'd use to describe him. He was chaos personified, like waves in the sea, uncontrollable and you weren't sure what your father thought he was getting out of the arrangement. (You knew what he was getting out of the arrangement: power and selling off his only daughter was clearly the only way he'd receive such notoriety.)

The arrangement wasn't horrific as you originally thought it would be, Aemond had seemed pleasant company though you were always in public, always chaperoned so the man could not spent time truly alone with you, while your father wanted to marry you did not have you own opinions or goals in life, he did not trust the man you were to marry fully. Nor did you. You knew the tales of the women his brother ruined the reputations of while his dutiful wife had to put up with his antics. You never knew how a man behaved behind closed doors, your brothers were a prime example of this for you. A prince was just a man after all and men were much different to the ladies you had spent time around. Kings Landing was entirely different in general, the styles, the hair, the people even, it was far too busy and put you on edge far too much.

They were dragons, both in sigil and temperament you had thought. Each member of the family was equally fiery and hard to read, comparing them to the creatures which set them apart so vastly was a correct comparison in your opinion. Being around them made you feel powerful, that nobody could cross you but you knew much better that politics can change in an instant — Rhaenyra and Rhaenys were proof of that. It scared you, being in the dragons pit.

Your time is spent with Helaena, she is a few years older than you though you think she is wise beyond her years, often telling you about the things she dreams about and often times speaks in riddles though you find her company more entertaining than most people. she understands you on a level which others do not, and you think in another timeline you would not be marrying her brother and she would not be married to her own husband, you would still be friends or perhaps more.

She doesn't want you today though, she claims she's ill with a sickness which is contagious — you'd get sick to spend time with her, you consider her your only true friend in this place, though Helaena being the kind sweet soul she is would never allow you to give yourself a sickness on her behalf and suddenly you're alone, the day grows boring, the library is unappealing, you can only walk around a garden — no matter the size of it so many times without growing bored. Needlepoint is tedious and you think you could not cope if your life was to be like this once you were married. The garden however is where you find him, alone. It's the first time you've spent time together alone and your palms feel sticky and your heart is beating out of your chest. You don't know how you'll survive within a marriage when you cannot speak to the man without wanting to run away due to shyness.

"You avoid me far too much," he's the first to speak, you doubt words could process from your brain to your mouth to do so, "Do I scare you that much?"

You do not want to answer at first — perhaps he's talking about his presence or rather to the scars he could not help, but you're strong, you're from the North and Northern girls aren't typically timid nor shy, "Why would I do that my Prince?" you can see how it would consider it mocking but the playful tone in your voice indicates your intent. "Am I too fast for you to catch?"

You doubt you've thrown him off guard, though maybe that's why he had chosen you, "Do you think you are fast enough to outrun a dragon?" he asks,

"I do not know, you see I've never met a dragon nor seen one to know how fast they can be... though I have no doubt I can outrun one" you're being cocky, or perhaps you're flirting, you do not know which one would be better though you seem to amuse the price in question.

"Would you like to see one?" you don't know if it's a euphemism or if he's being serious, perhaps he does have a sense of humour after all.

"Hmm... I'm not too sure they would take kindly to those who aren't of Valyrian blood, what if one tries to eat me... I've heard the tales of the dragon who resides on Dragonstone who eats its own kind and humans alike." you're teasing him, who wouldn't want to see a dragon? You'd encounter them eventually you surmised, it was hard to live in a family with such beasts without doing so.

"You know of the Cannibal?" his interest had piqued at that, your time with his sister had clearly came with advantages, learning more about the Targaryen family, the dragons owned (and not) by his family had interested him, next you'd surprise him by speaking Valyrian.

"Only what her grace, your sister, had told me about it, that apparently the dragon is older than Balerion the black dread — though it seems unrealistic and hearsay, your father rode him once did he not? Balerion I mean,—" your sentence was cut short by the prince, who was seemingly not paying attention to you, it was awkward for a few seconds before he excused himself.

Aemond had seemingly looked off to the side, as if being summoned though you didn't pay it much mind, the two of you were having an enjoyable conversation (well in your personal opinion, the prince may have just been conversing due to the fact his family didn't want the arrangement to sour due to his or your behaviours). Though he had pulled away at seemingly the last second, muttering an apology and leaving you in the garden alone.

As fast as he'd disturbed your peace he disappears almost as abruptly almost making you wonder if you'd spoken out of turn and offended him somehow. And you could not help but notice how much lonelier you had become without his presence.

Some days had passed and the interaction with Aemond had lived within your head, when you weren't needed or doing something you'd thought back to the conversation, he was a seemingly lovely match and paid attention to you. Not that you could say the same for your parents, they hadn't know where you were or what you were doing most of the time, they only lectured you into behaving around the royal family, ladies do not laugh loudly, ladies do not spend more time daydreaming than needlepoint and ladies certainly do not frolic around the gardens unchaperoned. Helaena hadn't miraculously recovered which meant your family continued to lecture you. Perhaps they were more irritated about the fact you weren't strengthening the bond of both families to ensure the marriage as your mother had kindly put it. You were aware you family wanted more power but the possibility of you getting sick while they were heightening their station could not have occurred to them.

Your days continued to be as boring as ever without Helaena's company you were beyond restless, your parents had told you to behave far too many times, so much so you could recite their speeches. Though it didn't stop you from wandering alone — again. You wouldn't be shocked if it got back to them — again. However just as the last time you were alone Aemond Targaryen once again approaches you. Cockily as ever though being a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and having the largest dragon could perhaps have that effect on ones self confidence.

"Lady Bolton, you are the exact person I was looking for," he once again spoke again, he often left you speechless, from his undeniable beauty to the confidence he exuded — you had found out he wasn't always this way, gaining Vhagar had changed him and you surmised it was most likely for the better. "If you can recall we spoke about dragons and I have reconsidered the terms of our arrangement."

This made your blood go cold, you were certain you had not offended the Prince, though with the way he'd looked at you during meal times you could see how speaking about the dragons which were an extension of his family could offend him. "Have you spoken to my father about this?" He wouldn't be happy, you knew him well enough to know that.

"You misunderstand me, my Lady," you were sure your heart would have stopped if it was not for the words he spoke, "I cannot marry you without being certain."

It was not a good conversation to be had and you were almost panicking and you were certain you saw a taunting glint within his eye, "I can assure you, our union would be fruitful and you would be happy." You've been taught what it takes to be a wife from your mother but she had never explained what it truly entailed, your words feel rehearsed and panicked and came out of your mouth far too fast.

"I cannot be happy without being certain that you could handle this life," you're not sure what he's talking about, you've handled court well, made friends, were well liked by most people, and before your mind drifted somewhere else to think of every single misdeed you'd done, he spoke again, "The dragons are loyal, they want to protect their riders, Vhagar especially so," there was something in his tone which told you, you were missing the context of this statement, "I would like you to meet her, hopefully she won't harm you."

You weren't sure what to think, on one hand seeing the marvellous and beautiful beast that she was, was a once in a lifetime opportunity, on the other hand you could be hurt, or worse. It was seemingly a deal breaker to Aemond, if you chose to say no he could easily break off the engagement without remorse, he's a man, they never face the repercussions of their own actions.

"When do you wish to plan this meeting?" you asked, you didn't fear much, and if a dragon harms you, burns you or eats you, you supposed there was worse, less dignified ways to have your life ended.

"I was heading there now and while you are unoccupied I had asked your father's permission," he can't say no to a prince, out of fear of offending, you knew that much.

"With the way some at court speak of you Aemond, I'm surprised you asked for permission," the playful tone in your voice was evident that you truly did not believe court gossip. "How could I ever say no to meeting the eldest dragon known to man? If she eats me it would be a happy day for me."

He finds you amusing, you can tell, he's pokerfaced but you can always tell by the subtle way his body moved closer to yours, "I hope she chooses not to, it would be a sad day and I'm afraid I would not know what to say to your father about the occasion, his only daughter, eaten by a dragon, however would he recover?"

"You don't know my father like I do, he'd spin some tale that I was courageous and chose to fight a dragon and paid for it with my life." Your divulging far too much about your personal family life now, you're giving him too much insight and unnecessary information which could be used against you in a moments notice. "However, I am not going to let a dragon eat me today, my outfit simply will not allow it."

The journey to the largest dragon currently roaming freely was not as daunting as you'd originally thought, the nervousness you were feeling in your stomach hadn't subsided though you could almost feel the anticipation radiating off of Aemond. Perhaps he wanted a show, perhaps he wanted to see how you'd react to such a magnificent creature or perhaps he wanted to see her burn you alive.

She was there, laying and looking lethargic or maybe she was simply not wanting to live life anymore, she was beyond the size you had imagined, though something about her looked gentle. She hadn't harmed Aemond when she was a child and this made you feel safer, along with her owner being there, maybe he'd calm her with his presence. "Are you bonded to her?"

"In what way?" Aemond asks, keeping you behind him while he speaks in Valyrian — words you can't understand but if you were to have children in the future you should take note to learn.

"Can you feel what she feels, can she always feel your presence? Does she know when you're in trouble?" The questions come from your mouth before you can stop them, "You're speaking to her right now, are you not? Are you telling her to be on her best behaviour?"

"Did you not know we're always on our best behaviour." His response had made you laugh, you couldn't help it, if it had came from any other person you would have believed it. "Do I amuse you?"

"Yes very much so," Vhagar is stirring now, being so big she looks heavy to even move her head properly, you'd fear her moving her body without injuring anybody within the surrounding area. "It's a good sign she hasn't eaten me yet, isn't it."

"Don't be fooled by her, she's cunning but she favours the brave." he spoke.

"Would she consider me brave if I were to touch her?" You ask, already moving forward however Aemond hadn't chose to stop you, perhaps he thought you too foolish for your own good.

"Isn't that what we're here for? You're to meet her and she chooses if we marry." Now you knew the motive. There was so much more than what met the eye with Aemond and you'd do well to remember that.

Taking slow and steady steps towards Vhagar was the easy part, she had emitted heat, much like the dogs your father chose to keep around in the Dreadfort. It was hard to stay away from her, she was utterly captivating and it did not stop you from placing a hand on her. You don't doubt that you looked like an ant to her, tiny and easy to destroy with one singular movement however she stayed in place, letting out what sounded like a sigh. It was a good sign for you to continue touching her, it's not at all what you had expected her to feel like, she had felt warm and inviting despite her intimidating appearance. She was like her owner in more ways than he'd ever let the world know.

"You weren't serious about her eating you, were you?" Aemond asks, while you're completely mesmerised by how big and docile she was, your hand still holding the dragons warm scales while Aemond's presence was felt closely behind you.

"Seeing her up close, I fear I misjudged her," and you goes unsaid. "She seems lonely and I wish she had more company, do you keep her company often? When you're not at court?"

"I suppose I too would be lonely if I lost Balerion and Meraxes." He confesses, "But she is well taken care of, I can assure you."

"There's tales of you claiming her, that you were a child and the only one brave enough to go near her," the stories are fabricated most of the time, "That you lost the eye for the dragon, was it worth it?" you hadn't approached the topic of his long gone eye, though you fear you may have offended him when he does not speak straight away.

"A dragon is a great price for something so small as losing an eye" he spoke though you can tell there's melancholy within his tone, you were so close now, incredibly so, never had you been so close to a man. "It does not frighten you does it?"

"You lost an eye for a dragon, why would that frighten me, my prince?" it's a question he can't answer because he's the one who's finally speechless. "Are you fulfilled in the answer you so desperately sought from this encounter?"

"I think I have all the answers I need," he had pulled you away from Vhagar ever so gently, it was the softest you had ever felt the man, "I shall tell your father we shall be married as soon or as late as you wish to do so."

"When we are married will you let me fly with you?" the answer was unspoken, he'd take you to the ends of beyond the wall if you so much as wished it. Perhaps the marriage was the perfect match despite being arranged, he'd found somebody as equally obsessed with dragons as he'd once been.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #asoiaf imagine #asoiaf x reader #will i hate this in a few hours? maybe or maybe i'll love it #i hope you guys enjoy it!#it felt like an expo dump tho and im like ah you can 100% tell what writing im versed in #and let me tell you it's not fanfic #im team green till im gone btw #dont get it twisted the blacks are not it ™#til aemond only survived till 20 so yikes #writing more in this kinda universe might be on the cards for me so if you wanted anything wrote with this pairing just req it!#i tried to make mc likeable but also not so timid and shy because in my headcanon aemond is very much not attracted to that vibe #but also i headcanon him as demisexual?#or maybe im just projecting #the clown in me wanted to name this 2 baddies 1 dragon

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saucy-sassy-sparkly · 1 year

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Moments: Seven

Author's Note: The Chris Evans fandom is a complicated place to be right now, so I've been off and on Tumblr to avoid the chaos. As usual, the italics are flashbacks. Bolds are text. I’m aware that the timeline in the real world of movie releases and shooting is off; it’s a work of fiction so I manipulated things to work in my favor… or I was as vague as possible to avoid anyone noticing.

DISCLAIMER: the photo inserts are horribly inaccurate to where they actually are; I know this, but I wanted some visuals of what was in my head.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~7.1k

Moments Masterlist

2014: Boston

Scott grinned at Y/N as he stood on the threshold of her home with Chris. She’d just opened the door in her robe after several minutes of him frantically knocking. Sure, he could’ve used his key, but what fun would that have been when he could see Y/N’s exasperated face? He was holding flowers and a card and yelled, “surprise!” as he thrust them into Y/N’s hands before walking by her to greet Dodger.

“Hello, Scott, do come in?” She said sarcastically as she shut the door and followed Scott into the kitchen where he had already opened the fridge and helped himself to a seltzer. Y/N added a bit sarcastically, “would you like a drink?”

Scott rolled his eyes playfully and plopped down on the kitchen floor to continue to pet Dodger. He gestured to the card and flowers, “I'm supposed to make sure you open the card right now.”

Y/N made small talk with Scott while she stepped over him to get a vase and put the beautiful bouquet in water. He chatted happily, watching her lovingly arrange them and take them carefully to the kitchen table in a prominent view. She cinched her cozy robe tighter and then finally she picked up the card from where she’d dropped it on the table and smiled at her name scrawled on the front– Chris’s handwriting.

Her sweet, goofy Chris, who was back in Atlanta filming and had been for over two months. She’d been down to see him twice, enjoying the time with him and catching up with some of his co-stars who were starting to feel like extended family or luxuriating at the pool at his rental. He’d come home to celebrate Christmas and New Year's with her and their families, making sure to carve out three straight, glorious days with just the two of them and Dodger lounging around their home. On the first day, they’d been so thrilled for some time alone that their celebration had broken a leg on the kitchen table where the bouquet now sat. Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck when she thought of it and she turned back to the card in her hand, running her fingers across the place where his pen had scratched her name.

Besides those visits, they’d been existing on FaceTime and long emails. Sometimes, it was fun that way. Of course, she missed his presence, his laugh, his touch, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the way the distance forced them into something akin to love letters. They managed to get on the phone together most days and text often, but their real communication was through long emails.

“Why didn’t he send this straight to me?” Y/N mused out loud as she turned it over and opened the back.

She looked up in time to see Scott shrug and fail to hide a huge grin, “just read it.”

Pulling out the greeting card, she sighed and smiled at Chris’s 12-year-old humor. She opened the inside and read his inscription:

Y/N, my cinnamon bunny, I’ve been missing you like crazy, I need to see you, honey, And stay in bed with you being lazy.

Go pack a bag, With clothes that are warm, Don’t worry– no place with jet lag, Just somewhere to watch a snowstorm.

Love, C

Y/N was laughing out loud by the time she got to the end of the truly awful poem and Scott was getting to his feet, “I helped him write it. The original version was even worse.”

“Where are we going?”

“Not telling. You have an hour to pack, I’ve got Dodger and the house under control, Chris already talked to Stacey, and your clients are covered until Wednesday. No more questions, go get dressed and pack.”

“Scott,” Y/N whined, “where is it?”

“Don’t you worry, bunny,” he booped her nose and laughed at the face she pulled, “but your hour is wasting away!”

Y/N huffed and started toward their shared bedroom while Scott headed in the other direction, “why would he send flowers if I’m going away!”

“My brother is an idiot, but I’ll enjoy looking at them while you’re gone!” Scott’s voice was distant as they moved apart.

She muttered to herself when she got into the bedroom and went straight for the closet, starting to pull out sweaters, jeans, and underwear. She’d gathered her travel toiletry bag and was staring at the pile she’d made on the bed and debating about bringing something dressy when Scott reappeared with a suitcase. He dumped it on the floor beside the bed and started to take the neat piles she’d made and haphazardly put them in the luggage.

“Scott! I don’t know if I’m taking all of that!”

“You are, just keep bringing me stuff. We’re going to fill the bag.”

“Dude, I’ve used that bag to pack for a month in Europe. I’m not going to fill that for a long weekend.

“Yes, you are. Or I’ll do it for you. Go grab some dresses and heels.”

“Can you just tell me where he’s taking me?”

“I cannot, but I can tell you that you should have lots of options.”

“Why?”

Scott rolled his eyes, “because I know you and I know you like to have options. Bring that black velvet dress you keep making excuses not to wear… And something fun to go under it,” he winked and Y/N rolled her eyes in return.

“Scott, please don’t talk about my underwear,” she laughed as she disappeared into the closet and did gather some lingerie to add to the bag. Scott entered the closet after her and pulled out some heels and boots and another two dresses and then added them to the bag.

“Finish up here,” Scott waved his hands around and disappeared back out into the living room and then quietly snuck out the front door, bringing Dodger with him. He dialed Chris, who picked up on the first ring.

“All good?”

“She’s packing,” Scott grunted as he wrestled to get the box from the basement into his trunk and Dodger ran into the yard after a squirrel.

“Thanks for doing this, I hope it’s a good surprise.” Scott could hear Chris's anxiety through the phone and he stopped what he was doing to focus.

“You guys haven’t spent more than 36 hours together in weeks. She’ll be thrilled.”

“She’s texting me so many questions,” a light chuckle left Chris as he read through them. “Is she really worked up?”

“You know Y/N, she’s always slightly worked up.”

“But does she seem excited?”

“Chris,” Scott’s tone wasn’t a warning, it was trying to probe his older brother, how he knew so well. He could hear in Chris’s voice that his anxiety was about to boil over.

Chris picked up on it immediately, “I know, I’m just nervous.”

“It’s going to be perfect.”

“What if it isn’t? What if–”

“Stop psyching yourself out. You’re both going to remember this weekend forever.”

“But what if–”

“SCOTTY!” Y/N’s voice came from the front door. She emerged from the house in ripped jeans, and Vans, and bundled in a sweater, coat, and scarf and she was dragging the giant bag behind her. “You insisted I bring this giant bag, so come carry it.”

“Gotta go,” Scott muttered into the phone over Chris’s protests.

The line disconnected and Chris looked at his Home Screen- a picture of Y/N and Dodger on a hike a few months ago; the golden hour sun perfectly silhouetted his two favorite creatures standing in front of a beautiful vista– for a few seconds before he got another text from Y/N.

Y/N: Christopher, are you really not going to tell me where I’m going? Chris: you’re coming to see me 😘 I’m here waiting for you Y/N: chrisssssssss! I hate this! Chris: but I love you and I can’t wait to see you Y/N: yeah, yeah. We’re in the car on the way to my mysterious flight. I love you, you little fucker Chris: 😂 💙

The nature of their relationship meant that they spent so much time apart, and it made their reunions always exciting. It wasn’t just the sex- it had been for the first few months- but Chris quickly came to miss the feel of her weight on his chest when she fell asleep on him while they watched tv or read tangled up on the couch. He missed watching her facial expressions while doing everything- her expressive face and talking hands never failed to make him smile. He missed her giggle when he caught her talking… or singing… or dancing alone… or with Dodger, who was never happier than when he was sandwiched between Chris and Y/N.

Chris paced, his worries starting to bubble to the surface while he waited. He took the beer he’d been nursing and finished the rest of it. Chris prided himself in his romantic gestures- he loved to surprise her with something special. In the year and a half they’d been together, he’d done several sweet surprises ranging from small things like a delivery of her favorite flowers to work on a whim to something big like when he flew home from location and booked the last appointment on the Friday before her birthday (under a code name, of course).

But he’d never moved her by surprise. He’d always given her a warning if they were traveling, and always let her choose dates or locations. He’d never called work for her, he’d never overhauled the whole operation without her consultation. He was worried that she’d be upset. She had her own world too and had already sacrificed parts of it to move to Boston nine months ago. He never wanted to seem that he expected her to give up everything for him and he was starting to panic that this would feel controlling to her rather than romantic.

“Scotty, please,” Y/N begged, leaning across the console and batting her eyes at him, “tell me tell me tell me tell me.”

“You are so obnoxious!”

“But I want to know where I’m going!”

Scott grinned as he slowed and turned on his turn signal, “actually, we’re here.”

“This isn’t Logan. I’m not flying?” She peered out the window at the tree-lined road.

“You’re flying.”

“How am I—“ her voice cut off as he pulled around a small, simple building to reveal several hangers, a small flight tower, and a runway. “Oh!”

Chris saw Scott’s car and walked down the stairs of the small jet he’d chartered, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans and waiting for the car to come to a stop. Before Scott had the car in park, Chris barked out a laugh as he watched Y/N and Dodger tumble out of the passenger seat and run towards him. He crouched to greet Dodger briefly before opening his arms just in time for Y/N to jump into them.

“You asshole!” She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him hard; when she pulled back he was laughing and she continued, “can you please tell me what’s happening now?”

“I missed you too,” he kissed her again, pulled back and grinned at her, kissed her one last time just a little more deeply before he cut himself off and slapped her ass, signaling her to hop down, “let me help Scott, then I’ll tell you some things.”

She sighed heavily and let him set her down, following him to the trunk of Scott’s car. Chris lifted her suitcase out of the trunk and Y/N balked at the items below it, “when did you get our skis?”

“While you were complaining,” Scott smirked, pulling out the box of their ski clothes and boots and the long thin bag of skis. Scott and Chris made dragging the bags across the tarmac look easy as they handed them off to the small crew. The boys turned back to Y/N who was gaping at the jet.

Chris was watching Y/N’s awe with a smitten, far away look on his face; Scott grinned at his brother, briefly hugged him, and did the same with her before he jogged back to the car with Dodger, leaving the two at the foot of the stairs.

“Shall we?” Chris gestured to the stairs and her eyes widened further. He couldn’t wipe the smirk off of his face; she’d always refused to take a private jet when he’d offered to coordinate one. She thought it was too much and over the top– and it often is– so she’d fly commercial, particularly as they so rarely got a chance to fly together. Usually, it was one of them flying to meet the other or Chris flying home with the occasional vacation mixed in.

“Seriously?” She clapped her hands together like an excited toddler and started up the stairs, warmly greeting the crew and babbling about the interior of the plane. “Where do we sit?”

Before he could answer, they were interrupted when the flight attendant offered to stow their coats; Chris pulled his puffer jacket off and handed it to her before reaching for Y/N and helping hers off her shoulders. His hands caught the soft fabric of her warm sweater and he let out an audible sigh; having his hands on her in any way brought him such comfort that he could feel his tension easing. After giving the attendants their coats, he was ready to give her his full attention when he turned back.

She’d wandered back to the plush sofa built into one of the walls and had dropped her tote bag on the seat. She was distracted as she hunched over it to root around– presumably for her book based on her usual flying habits– and Chris approached her, swatting her ass playfully and making her yelp.

“Christopher!”

When she turned to him, he immediately grasped her hips, rubbing his hands on the soft fabric and squeezing her hips firmly before planting a tender kiss on her lips, “I’m so happy to see you.” He muttered against her lips before kissing her again. He loved the feeling of her arms dragging up his shoulders to play in his hair. He loved the feeling of her body pressed into his. He missed it all so much when he was gone.

The older he got, and the deeper in love he fell with Y/N, the more he realized that his job was great, but he didn’t love it or the constant travel anywhere near as much as he loved her.

“Where are we going?”

“That,” he pecked her lips and started to pull away when he noticed the attendant returning with two glasses of champagne, “is still a surprise.” He took the glasses off the tray and held onto them while Y/N got situated on the sofa, buckling her seatbelt as instructed, and then holding the glasses while Chris did the same. They toasted each other and their time together before another kiss and a deep pull of the fizzing drink. Y/N tucked her legs up, leaning her body into Chris and enjoying being close to him and wrapped up in his smell. She always missed him while he was away working, but the way his smell slowly started to dissipate from the sheets, the t-shirt she slept in, and the house while he was gone was always the most noticeable difference.

For the duration of the flight they were wrapped up in each other, Y/N’s book laying forgotten on her lap. They chatted, they pressed into each other, and they made out; Chris had found a blanket and wrapped them both in it while they watched the snow-covered descent. It was dusk when they disembarked and walked across the small tarmac to the waiting, warm SUV where their luggage had already been loaded.

“Do you know where we are?” Chris finally asked with a smirk, holding her hand in the back seat while the driver navigated the snowy roads.

She peered out the window, squinting in the setting sun for road signs or clues. Coming up empty, she finally shook her head, “no idea. I’m assuming this is the part where one of you murders me.”

Chris chuckled, “no, bun, look,” he pointed out the window behind her and she turned to crane her neck at the sign of the hotel they were approaching.

“Shut up,” Y/N said slowly before repeating, “SHUT UP!” with more excitement. “I haven’t been back here since…”

“Since President’s Day Weekend 1997?”

“It’s President’s Day Weekend,” she mused, her eyes widening. “Oh, this is so sweet!” She pulled him towards her to kiss as they pulled into the Lodge at Killington Ski Resort. The driver held the door open when they arrived at the side entrance and Chris donned his usual Bruins hat pulled low over his eyes before he got out. He held out his hand to Y/N and guided her into the building and they quietly checked in, Chris requesting that their luggage be brought up to the room.

Y/N was surprised when the manager walked around the counter and escorted them to their room, taking them down the same passageway they'd entered, across an outdoor alcove, and into another building. After a set of elevators and a few twisting hallways, she swiped the key card and pushed open the doors; Chris put one hand on the small of Y/N’s back as he shook hands with the manager, presumably with a tip in hand, and thanked her before she quietly exited the suite.

“Babe, this is beautiful,” Y/N stepped away from him towards the windows that were thrown open to catch the twinkling of the lights on the lift and the reflection of the moon on the snow where their room overlooked the mountains. She felt him approach her from behind, wrapping his burly arms around her center and resting his chin on her shoulder. She nestled into his embrace and heaved a heavy sigh, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but thank you.”

Chris pulled her to face him so quickly that she let out a gasp. He held her fast around the waist and looked at her carefully. “You didn’t have to do anything to deserve this. I’d give you the goddamn moon if I could, Y/N. You deserve so much more than I can give you but I’m so grateful you love me.”

Y/N was stunned and raised her hands to his cheeks, caressing the brustle of his beard, “is everything okay?” She noticed his eyes watering and he started to avoid her eye contact. “Chris?” She asked again, pulling his face towards her but he fluttered his eyes closed. “What’s going on?”

He forced a laugh, “nothing.” She knew it was a fake laugh and she knew it was a fake response but she decided not to press the issue, just giving him one last curious look before pressing up to kiss his lips gently and then turning in his arms to lean back against him. His grasp tightened and she swore she heard him sniffle when he settled his chin back on her shoulder again after kissing the crook of her neck and shoulder.

Neither of them was sure how long they stood there, but it was the rumbling in Y/N’s stomach that alerted them to the need for dinner. They opted for room service and were surprised by its speed. After scarfing it down, Chris suggested they finish their bottle of wine out in their private deck jacuzzi.

Y/N donned her simple blue bathing suit and wrapped in a fluffy resort robe to slip out onto the cold deck. Chris was facing the mountains and lounging casually in the warm water when he heard the french doors shut and turned his attention to Y/N just in time to see the robe drop and the cheeky cut of her bathing suit when she bent to drape it over the bench where his already was. He groaned, thinking of how long it had been since he had his hands on her and his fingers, his tongue, his cock inside of her…

“Bun, you look good enough to eat,” he said as he moved to the side and held her hand while she stepped in. The moan she made as the warm water hit her body and soothed her tired muscles didn’t help him calm down.

“As much as I love you and miss you, Christopher, a good makeout is the best you’re going to get tonight. Your girl is very tired,” she emphasized her point by scooting over in the seat to press her side into his and lean her head on his shoulder. He slid his arm around her shoulders and draped it over her, running his fingers lightly on her arms. He could feel the goosebumps rise to the surface of her skin.

“We’ve got a lifetime of sex, baby, I don’t need it every time I see you. I want it– I always want it– but I’m happy just sitting next to you.”

Y/N’s heart thundered at the word lifetime but she didn’t say anything, afraid to spook him. She’d been thinking about marriage for a while now; she was ready and she couldn’t picture her life without Chris in it now. But he shied away from the topic, always redirecting when it came up. He constantly reassured her that he loved her, that she was the only thing he wanted– he talked about the future regularly– but that word marriage seemed to freak him out. Plus, with the way he’d clammed up just an hour ago, she decided to let it pass.

Instead, she let her hand rest on his thigh under the water, the other holding her wine just above the water level and taking careful sips. Their conversation was whispered and full of long pauses while they took in the beautiful evening and each other’s presence. When the wine was gone, Chris pulled Y/N between his legs and started to run his hands up her waist, over her shoulders, gently kneading the muscles in her neck and back. The straps of her bathing suit fell away but neither of them fixed it. He slowly worked across her shoulders and neck, then down her back, occasionally leaning forward to press a kiss to a particularly tight knot before moving on to another. Y/N’s hands were grasping his thighs tightly, squeezing in time with the occasional sighs and moans she’d let out when he made a particularly good move. She could feel him twitching behind her but she chose to ignore it, knowing that she didn’t have the energy and he’d be lying if he said he did. He’d put his all into making love if they did, but they both needed this intimacy of the private moment exploring each other’s bodies more than they needed another carnal meeting.

When his hands slowed and trailed back to her waist– after brushing the sides of her breasts on the way south– she leaned back against him and turned her face to look at him. “My turn?”

“You don’t have to,” he whispered, taking advantage of her facing him to kiss her lips. “I wasn’t expecting anything.”

“All I’m promising is a massage, but I’m happy to do it.”

“Let’s go inside,” he pushed her up and held her waist while he stood. He exited the water and stepped out, wrapping himself in his robe before grabbing her hand and then helping her bundle. They scurried inside to avoid the cold and dried off the rest of the way before changing into dry clothes for sleep. “I swear I’m not looking for payback, Y/N, I just wanted to make you feel good.”

“And you did, and it won’t lead to sex, but I want to touch you for a while,” she pointed to the bed as he climbed on and lay face down. He felt her climb onto the bed and then straddle his back, sitting on top of his ass in her tiny sleep shorts. He could feel the warmth of her core pressing into his lower back. Her hands trailed the skin on his exposed back, starting with his lower back and making her way up his spine, gratefully working the muscles. By the time she reached his shoulders and neck, he was in a blissful state of relaxation and he almost missed the featherlight kisses she trailed down his spine before she crawled off and pulled back the covers.

Chris slowly worked his way under the covers and yanked her to him; by this point in their relationship, they didn’t sleep pressed against each other most nights. They were used to sleeping alone and the nights they slept against each other were usually just when they fell asleep naked, too tired to even get dressed after a romp.

But tonight, he needed her closeness. He needed to feel her and know that she wasn’t going anywhere, that she was his and only his.

They slept late and lazed about the suite, again opting for room service and reading in bed before they got ready for a day on the slopes. Chris had arranged all the lift tickets and necessities beforehand (or at least his assistant had), and they could just walk straight out to the lift and start their day. A day of laughing and competition built as they sped down the slopes, only stopping briefly for cheeseburgers and beer at the lodge before heading back out to burn off more fuel. They took to the skills park and tried to beat each other at everything, poking fun and making a light and special day they hadn’t gotten to spend with each other in so long.

So often their time together was squished in between their work schedules and regular daily life or surrounded by family for holidays; it had been ages since they just got to spend the time as the two of them. Towards sunset, they reached the bottom of a trail and Chris pulled off his goggles to catch her eye. “You wanna do one more run?”

“Yes, please,” Y/N grinned, heading towards the lift line and enjoying the pressure of Chris’s gloved hand on her back while they waited. It seemed that everyone had the same idea, so the line was longer than it had been, and Y/N could feel Chris’s impatience next to him.

“This is where we met,” she turned to him with a grin.

He hesitated and took everything in. Not one bit of it had changed. The creek and grind of the lift, the trees were more full but were all still there, and the most beautiful girl he’d ever met was there too. Neither one of them had paused all day to really think about it, but the glow of the setting sun, the feel of the end of a long day moving, and the nostalgia all kicked in at once. When Chris looked back at her, Y/N had tears streaming down her face.

“Baby?” He said quietly, getting as close as he could with the puffy coats and skis, “are you okay?”

“I just can’t believe we made it this far,” she breathed, laughing at herself and swiping at her eyes with her gloves. “Sorry. Just who knew those two idiots would end up living together.”

Chris pulled off his glove and used his cold fingers to pull her chin to face him. “Who would’ve thought those idiots would end up in love.” He kissed her so hard she nearly stumbled both with the physical and emotional impact of his words. “I love you, bunny,” he whispered against her lips when he kissed her again, only pulling away to move them forward in line.

They waited and then boarded the lift in silence, stealing glances at each other and grinning. When they got off at the top, Chris again pulled her as close as he could through the accessories and kissed her without another word. They moved away from each other and towards their favorite trail– still The Jug– and took it slowly and leisurely; Y/N still remembered her last run that day years ago and didn’t need another broken ankle.

They returned to their room and lounged around, Chris eventually showering while Y/N dozed by the fireplace. He roused her and convinced her to shower, telling her that when she got out, they’d make dinner plans. After luxuriating in the warm water for longer than she planned, Y/N exited the bathroom in the same fluffy robe she’d been wearing in the room, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Chris was standing before her looking handsome in a sleek black suit and thin tie. If she’d been wearing panties, they would’ve been soaked immediately, and she couldn't stop her jaw from dropping.

“What– Chris– You look–” She stuttered while Chris laughed, adjusting his cuffs and watching her from under his lashes. He approached her slowly, putting his hands out to caress her hips and pull her to him.

Kissing her, he murmured, “Get dressed, baby, we have dinner reservations in 30 minutes.”

“I don’t have anything to wear that matches that!”

“Nothing black and velvet?” He asked with a crooked grin, “I’ve never seen it on you, just on the hanger in our closet. Wear it for me, please.”

Y/N’s throat was dry and she nodded vigorously. “30 minutes?”

“30 minutes,” he repeated, dipping his head to kiss her again. “I’ll get out of your way,” he murmured against her, squeezing her hips and then sliding down to squeeze her ass. She hurried back into the luxurious bathroom and got to work fixing her hair and putting on some makeup. She was grateful that she didn’t normally spend much time getting ready, so 30 minutes didn’t panic her as it would some of her girlfriends, but it was still a rush to get it all together.

When she stepped out of the bathroom in her svelte velvet dress and knee-high suede black boots, she knew how good she looked and she knew it would be all he could do not to fall at her feet. She was right; her heels clicked in the hallway of the suite as she came to the bedroom area and found him lounging across the king-sized bed scrolling his phone. She didn’t miss his eyes widening or him adjusting his slacks.

“Ready to go?”

“No,” he answered, swiftly sitting up, “I changed my mind.” Chris flew off the bed and started towards her, but Y/N stepped away and pulled her jacket out of the closet. He relented and helped her into it, but not before watching the way the muscles in her lower back moved when she slid into it.

Dinner was off the resort property so they climbed into a waiting car; Chris’s hand fell immediately to Y/N’s thigh in the back seat. She only had to swat it away once when it started to trail too high up her leg. After the short drive, they arrived at a lovely, beautifully lit restaurant nestled on the other side of the mountain.

Chris led her into the restaurant, the warmth of his hand bleeding through her thick peacoat as they walked to the hostess stand. It was cozy inside with exposed brick and lights strung across the bustling tables.

The hostess led them around a corner and up a secluded set of stairs. She pushed the door open and they entered a beautiful rooftop lounge overlooking the mountains. The whole area was empty but clearly expecting them as all five of the fire pits in the area were roaring. The table they approached was next to the biggest fire and had two large faux fur blankets waiting for them.

Chris shrugged off his jacket and then reached for hers. When she hesitated, he smiled softly, “I promise I’ll keep you warm,” and she relented and slipped out of the coat before sliding into the booth and close to the fireplace.

He draped one of the blankets across his shoulders and then reached across her back to drape it around her. Y/N busied herself spreading the second blanket across their laps and gladly accepted the hot toddy the waiter had ready. She snuggled into Chris’s side and he wrapped her up tightly, kissing her temple. When she finally relaxed and looked around, she took in the moon's reflection on the snowy mountain and the soothing sounds of the crackling fire.

“It’s beautiful here,” she looked up at Chris, who leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

“You are beautiful,” his lips were warm and tasted like the whiskey and cloves of his drink as he pressed his lips into hers one more time, holding her face to his by the back of her neck. Y/N grasped his thigh and sighed as he leaned back, “I love you,” he pecked her nose, “my sweet bunny.”

Under her hand, his phone vibrated in his pocket and she ignored it, grinning up at him, “thank you for this weekend.”

“Anything for you,” he finally felt it and leaned away from her, pulling his phone out, briefly checking the screen, and then dropping it on the bench. He returned his attention to her and then sipped their warm drinks while Y/N crossed her legs towards him, letting her top leg drape over his.

Eventually, the waiter came back with menus and warm bread and butter; they pursued in companionable silence when Chris’s phone started to vibrate on the bench. With a heavy sigh, he checked the screen and groaned, “it’s Megan, baby. She’s called twice now, and I blew her off yesterday too, do you mind if I just see what she wants? I’ll get rid of her quickly.”

“Of course,” Y/N waved him off, still scanning the menu while he answered his phone with a curt, “Meg, I’m at my anniversary dinner with Y/N, what’s up?”

Y/N grinned to herself. Anniversary dinner… she supposed it was their anniversary. 17 years ago this weekend Scott nearly killed her and sent them on this long journey to today. They hadn’t really celebrated an anniversary since they’d gotten together– they’d celebrated major milestones in their relationship like saying I love you and moving in together, but it had never occurred to either of them to discuss an actual anniversary date. Hearing Chris say that to Megan, and knowing that this was special to him, made Y/N’s heart ache with so much love for him.

When she pulled herself out of her daydream, she noticed Chris’s tense body next to her. His end of the conversation had been short, mostly listening to Megan, but his body language had changed drastically in the last thirty seconds.

“I don’t understand,” his voice was low and sharp and his free hand was clenched in a fist. “Can’t I just comment?”

Silence.

More silence, filled only with Chris trying to steady his breathing and the low murmur of Megan’s voice on the other end.

“What the fuck, how did this happen?” Megan’s response was short, and Chris heaved a heavy sigh, “but we both know that wasn’t what it was… is she commenting? So, I just have to let it happen? Are you fucking kidding me?” More waiting on Megan. He glanced over at Y/N and forced a strained smile. Y/N reached for him and unclenched his fist, sliding her hand into his. He squeezed it and held her eyes while he said to Megan, “I have to tell Y/N.”

His facial expression changed and he paused to listen to Megan, but he quickly furrowed his brows, “no, it should come from me. Thanks, Meg.” He hung up and scrubbed his hand over his face, then took a long pull from his drink and set the empty glass back on the table.

“Baby, some of the gossip rags are running a story. Meg is on it and trying to squash it and my legal team is working with her, but it’s already all over the internet.”

Y/N squared her shoulders and bit her lip, “… okay.”

“Remember a few weeks ago when I told you I’d run into Minka?” Y/N nodded, thinking back to Chris’s frantic phone call. He’d been so nervous; he’d called her from his trailer between shots to say that he’d heard Minka was filming something in Atlanta and one of his co-stars had run into her at a Starbucks. The co-star had invited her to a dinner the cast was having and Chris was so worried about Y/N’s reaction that he hadn’t waited for another second to get in touch.

Y/N had assured him that she trusted him wholeheartedly; she knew about his past as he did about hers, and she knew that in Hollywood, exes crossed paths by nature of the job. It was bound to happen and Y/N had encouraged him to go, to enjoy himself. They’d gone to dinner at a local restaurant- six of them in total, including Chris and Minka. He’d text her occasionally through dinner and sat on the other side of the round table from Minka, only engaging in polite small talk. He’d excused himself early to run an errand at a shop a few doors down from the restaurant and then head home. On the way out of the store, Minka had been waiting for her Uber. He’d stopped to wait with her– the first time they’d been alone all night– offered her a hug, put her in her car, and walked back to his rental.

“Apparently some paps got some pictures that look compromising and they’re running them.”

“How compromising?”

Chris winced at the same time that Y/N felt her phone vibrate for what felt like the 100th time since they sat down. She knew when she pulled it out of her clutch that it would be covered in texts and calls.

“Chris, how compromising?”

“Y/N, I love you and nothing happened, I swear it was nothing.”

“How. Compromising.”

“Chris?” Chris’s head snapped up when he heard the voice; he’d been grinning at his phone and the group chat from his siblings when Minka’s voice startled him.

“Mink, hey, what are you doing?” He shoved his phone in his pocket– the one that held his newest purchase.

“The corner by the restaurant was really crowded,” she shrugged, crossing her arms and smiling up at him, “I walked down here to wait for my Uber.”

“Did you know I was here?” He gestured at the store behind him, feeling suspicious.

She laughed, “I swear,” she threw up her hands in innocence, “I’m not stalking you. I thought you’d already gone home. I just didn’t want to wait in the crowd,” she pointed towards the group of people eating outdoors on the sidewalk surrounding the restaurant they’d just left.

He nodded, “so, how ya been?”

“You don’t have to wait with me, Chris. I’m a big girl. I know you didn’t want to see me tonight.” Her voice was tight and clipped.

“I’m not going to leave you here alone,” his tone matched hers.

“So did you want to see me tonight? Or were you avoiding me?”

He sighed, “I was avoiding you. I just don’t think it’s appropriate to spend time with you.”

“So go then,” she was clearly hurt and Chris, momentarily, felt guilty.

“Minka, I’m not leaving you standing here alone.” He repeated, “Ma would kill me.”

“Lisa does love me,” she grinned.

“She did.” Chris countered, “but she adores Y/N.”

“Right,” Minka dropped her gaze to her heels and kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk, “she’s the one from the ski trip right?”

Chris couldn't stop his grin or the words that tumbled out, “Yup,” he popped the ‘p’ before he continued, “she’s the one.”

Minka’s head snapped up at him, “the one? Like…” Chris nodded, his grin so huge it his face ached. She couldn't help but smile softly, “Is that why you were here?” She pointed at the store behind him. A local jewelry shop. Where he’d just picked up a custom-designed engagement ring.

“You’re going to propose to her?”

“We don’t have to talk about this.”

“When?” Her voice was soft, but she was smiling.

“President’s Day weekend. It’s when we met,” Chris was giddy with excitement as he pictured sliding the ring onto Y/N’s finger. He’d planned the whole weekend already and he couldn't wait for it to get here. “Do you– do you want to see it?”

Minka nodded, reaching out her hands; he pulled it out of his pocket, and with it came his phone, which crashed to the sidewalk next to him. He handed Minka the box and knelt to grab his phone, pausing to check it for damage and cursing lightly at the cracked screen.

“It’s gorgeous, Chris,” Minka grinned down at him, turning the box in her hand while she gazed at the ring. He rose and leaned over her shoulder to stare at it. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

A black car slid up to the sidewalk and Minka checked her phone, “that’s me,” she pointed, handing the box back to Chris, who pocketed it with his now broken phone. She hesitated before pressing a kiss to his cheek and wrapping him in a hug, “I’m glad you’re happy, Chris.” He released her and watched her step into the car, offering a final wave before driving off.

“They’re making it look like I proposed to her,” his voice was strained and he was rubbing his hands across his neck, his face, his thighs, anywhere he could reach. He wanted to reach out to her but he wasn’t sure if she’d take it.

She was silent for several seconds, staring at him with her mouth open. “How is that possible?”

“I haven’t seen the pictures, but I guess the angle they got, the expressions or something… Megan is on it. She’s trying to get Minka’s team to comment. I’m sorry, baby, this isn’t how I pictured this night going.”

Y/N shook her head, “yeah, me either, what the fuck, Chris. What were you doing with Minka that could possibly be twisted into a proposal?”

“Bunny, it was so innocent. I don’t know how they spun it.” Chris was drenched in sweat; the engagement ring in his pocket felt like it weighed 1000 pounds and his chest ached to watch the different emotions cross Y/N’s face.

She reached for her phone and started to click through notifications. Everyone she knew– everyone she knew, including Chris’s siblings– had texted her. She went for Scott’s first.

Scott: you know him and you trust him, Megan will make it go away. Y/N: send me the picture Scott: that doesn’t seem like a good idea Y/N: I’m going to search it if you don’t. Please, Scott.

There was a pause when Scott sent a screenshot of the story. The headline read “Exclusive: Chris Evans and Minka Kelly: Engaged at Long Last!” and the picture did indeed appear to be a grinning Chris and Minka standing outside a jewelry shop in Atlanta. Minka had a black ring box in her hand and Chris was kneeling in front of her.

“Chris,” Y/N whispered and handed him the phone. She was trying not to cry while she tried to determine what was the reality of all of this. She knew that the paparazzi twisted everything. She knew that the gossip magazines would make anything into a story. She knew she’d been dragged around the internet a few times for being seen kissing Chris at baseball games and the supermarket.

She also knew that Chris had “claimed” her– they lived together, and Megan and Chris had both confirmed the relationship. Her name had never, to her knowledge, been officially released, but her picture certainly had. Since they’d moved in together, he hadn’t had a premiere, but they’d already discussed the plans for the next several: she’d walk the red carpet with him. Y/N knew her place in his world and tried to remain calm but this picture, their expressions, Chris on his knees… it was hard to keep her resolve.

Taglist: @bellaireland1981 @before-we-get-started @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @elrw244 @maylaysia109 @royalwritersoftheuniverses

#chrisevans #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans series #chris evans fluff #chris evans angst #chris evans smut

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some-pers0n · 11 months

Text

Something Stupid

Fandom: WoF

Characters: Whiteout, Thoughtful

CW: None, really

Summary: It's been a couple months since the whole incident, leaving Whiteout all alone. Fortunately for her, she's got a friend that's just right. Yet, she just can't shake the feeling that she'll say something that'll scare him off like the rest of her old friends.

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: Hgdnjawa-- forgot I wanted to post this. Had it written up for a long while. Anywho, have some Thoughtout fluff!

Whiteout was used to being lonely. Not too many dragons could stand to be near her for long enough. Some would find her being a hybrid strange and avoid her. Others thought she talked strangely. Now, most dragons associated her with being the sister of the animus who killed Prince Arctic.

She never quite liked being around others, so it was a mutual feeling of distaste. They had ways of speaking to each other that were so detached from how she behaved. Unwritten rules and norms that they thought everyone would abide by. Whiteout supposed that she was hatched without that code written into her genetics.

But, she would be lying if she didn't say that the isolation was tiring after a while. The house was quiet all day now. Everyone she knew and loved was dead. Foeslayer was kidnapped and possibly dead. Arctic is extremely dead after the incident. Now Darkstalker is missing. Perhaps he was finally consumed by the fire and turned into ash, the remains dancing in the breeze.

She hated when the house was loud. Those nights when it seemed as though one of their parents would finally kill each other. The bad nights, as Darkstalker lovingly referred to them. Yet, a part of her missed that. Even if there was chaos and hatred, there was life in the walls. There was stirring. There was something of substance.

Now it's just her, alone. Nobody to turn to. No shoulder to cry on. No dragon to even say hello to when coming back from school or a day in the market. She was truly lonely now.

Whiteout was then broken out of her thoughts by the sound of the door knocking. A gentle, yet firm knock.

Well, saying she was 'truly lonely' would be a half-lie. She did have at least one other dragon. By the moons was he a keeper too. Her face lit up upon hearing the door and she quickly walked over, opening it up.

Before even seeing his face, she was hit with the sound of his breathing. That's what always stuck out to Thoughtful the most. Whiteout would always process certain things in a specific way, voices being the more common ones. Not that they would sound like that, but that their voice would convert into something anew for her. With Darkstalker it was with pine. With Clearsight it was fresh rain on a rock. With Thoughtful?

Blueberry pie. Her favourite dessert.

Thoughtful was standing before her, his left wing resting beside him a bit more lopsided than the right one. It was immediately noticeable, but Whiteout didn't comment on it. Rather, she smiled and said, "you didn't keep me waiting for long."

"Yep. Right when the sun touches the mountain tops, just like we agreed upon," he replied.

"Mh-hm. It's very nice of you to do that, by the way. Actually be on time. Nothing is quite as troubling as when some dragon is late than when they say so. Moons above, once I had to wait several hours for one of my clawmates to come by and return my paint tools. They said they were busy and couldn't get to me, but...well..." Whiteout closed her mouth. "Apologizes, I was talking too much again. It is very sweet of you to be on time."

"Oh no no, don't feel sorry for talking," Thoughtful assured her. "I love hearing you talk, actually. You're so much better to listen to than so many others." He let out a small chuckle. "It's nice. I don't have to step around eggshells when with you."

Whiteout blushed. She tilted her head and grinned back. She could sense Thoughtful's soul getting more plush and comfortable. "That's so sweet of you."

"Oh, and before I forget..." Thoughtful lifted up his wing a bit, revealing a bouquet of flowers. Multi-coloured wild roses, all forming into a mass of red, blue, pink and purple. "I went out into the fields. Took me hours to get it all ready for you."

She gasped. She grabbed the flowers, brushing her talons up against them. The touch of them instantly made her think of the sound of waves. "You didn't have to do this, really..."

"Why not?" Thoughtful asked, adjusting his glasses. "You deserve some colour to brighten up your life."

Whiteout's tail swished around anxiously. Her heart fluttered just hearing his voice. She placed it on the counter inside the house. "Well, where do you wish to go? I'm quite fine with anywhere."

He froze for a moment. "I was just about to ask you the same thing," he snickered.

"Oh. Uh..." She rested her head on her talons. "Hm. I am not too preferable to somewhere loud. Too many voices."

"Mh-hm. I get that. I don't want to be around others too. N-not that I don't want to be around you, I just..." He sighed. "You get what I mean."

"I do! I do. It's okay." Whiteout smiled back at him. "Well, let's go." She grabbed him by the talons, pulling him along. She ran out the door and into the streets.

"Whoah! Where are we going?!" Thoughtful yelled, just about stumbling over his own talons.

"Anywhere!" she said back to him. She opened up her wings. "Follow after me!" With one fell swoop, she lifted herself into the sky. Just as quickly, Thoughtful obliged. He trailed just behind, soaring above the houses and into the clouds.

It was fantastical. Rarely was she ever able to take advantage of her wings anymore. She hated being planted to the ground. Hovering through the air, speeding away at such high speeds. It was thrilling. Beyond anything she could describe. Nothing could ever compare to flying. The way her heart raced and the adrenaline from narrowly dodging a flock of birds. It was unlike anything else.

What made it better was to share this moment with Thoughtful. When she needed a friend, he was there for her. When she needed a place to go or a shoulder to cry on, he was there for her. When he had his troubles and anxieties, Whiteout would guide him through. Before meeting each other, they were both lonely. Both of them considered outcasts; weirdos, even.

But, with Thoughtful, Whiteout didn't feel that way. She felt as though she had somebody who cared about her. A dragon who understood the way she was. A dragon that she could listen to talk for hours and hours and never get bored of. A dragon who she...

She paused, considering that thought for a moment. Maybe it was true. Maybe it wasn't. Whiteout always liked to be vocal about her feelings, but she knew she had the tendency to ruin things by saying something dumb. Entire conversations would screech to a halt because she brought up painting or some new theory she's been studying. Even if she knew it was irrational, she didn't want to scare off Thoughtful. She didn't want to say something that could ruin this perfect bond between them.

"Whiteout?" Thoughtful's voice echoed through her ears. "Where are we going? Y-you still haven't answered that," he lightly chuckled.

"I haven't? Apologizes. I just got...lost in thought, I suppose." She shook her head. "I want to go to Stormseeker Peak."

"Isn't that quite a while away from the city? I mean, sure! That actually sounds great, not going to lie."

"Indeed, nobody goes there. The mountain is sharp to others who don't really know what it's like. It's...boring to them, right? That's the word they like to use?"

"Yeah, I remember our old teacher, Acedia, brought the class over there. You were there that day, weren't you?"

"Mh-hm. I remember it. All of the other dragonets wanted to jump around and play. I sat by the cliffside and watched the sky."

"Right! I vaguely recall seeing you do that. I was still too shy to walk up to you and talk to you..." Thoughtful scratched his chin playfully.

"You did? Aww, poor you..." she cooed. "But, it's a tranquil spot. I like to go there whenever I need inspiration. I'd love to be there with you."

"That sounds great! C'mon, race you!" Thoughtful dipped below the cloudline, disappearing below. Whiteout chased after him, the pair laughing and giggling the whole way through.

Hours later, they reach the spot. The mountain is a graceful spire that overlooked the ocean. The sun was just now beginning to set, turning the heavens above a vibrant gradient of oranges and pinks. Just high enough to get a good look without getting a headache from the altitude. Perfect in every regard.

Whiteout landed on a perch, taking in a breath of the salty air. "Moons above..." she whispered.

"It's beautiful," Thoughtful remarked. "I can see why you like coming here. I could stare at that sun all day."

"I mean...that's why we came here, no?" Whiteout beamed. "Exchange small talk and watch the sunset."

"Right! Yes. Nearly forgot." Thoughtful sat on the ground, overlooking it. "You...want to sit beside me?" he asked sheepishly.

Whiteout nodded. Wordlessly, she came right next to him. It was comfortable being right next to him. A feeling bubbled up in her, one that she could only equate to a lovely rich shade of blue. The same colour as a ripe blueberry, no less. It was an entrancing feeling, one that captivated her.

The moment was flawless. She was with Thoughtful, standing out over a cliff, watching the sunset. For the first time in a long while, everything was right. She wasn't bothered by her family issues or the weight of the world on her shoulders. It was as though she had been purified by it all.

But, of course, she had to be bothered by that dumb little thought again. The one she had earlier. The one that scared her ever so much. It was intimidating to even consider the option of saying it, but...maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea. It's Thoughtful after all. He's amazing. He's intelligent, sweet, and especially kind. He's everything that Whiteout could ever dream of.

So...she spoke. "Thoughtful?"

"Yes?"

"Is it okay if I say something stupid?"

"Mh? Yes, always. Of course."

"...I think I love you," she said. Instantly, she was hit with two separate emotions. Embarrassment and shock from how she finally confessed, but also relief. That one thought was out into the world at last. Free from the confines of her mind.

"I really do love you, Thoughtful," she continued. "I loved you since the day we first met. Everything about you makes me happy. From how you smile to how you let me talk. You are the first dragon I've ever met who cared about me that wasn't just a family member. You didn't reject me like the rest of them. You saw me, silver and gold and everything inside, and didn't run. You didn't laugh or point. You wanted to help me. You-" She paused for a moment before chuckling- "it's funny, the limitations of language. I try to sum up my thoughts on you, but words fail. It's quite sad."

"No, no, no." Thoughtful looked at her. "I think that was...beautiful, Whiteout."

"...so, how do you feel?"

Thoughtful stared at her, his mouth quivering. "I- you-" he stammered. Suddenly, he rushed in, wrapping his wings around her. "I love you too..." he whispered into her ear. "I'm so happy right now, I can't even-"

"It's okay." Whiteout patted him on the back. "We can stay like this for a while." She returned the hug. The two of them stayed like that for what seemed like ever, neither of them wanting to let go of the other. Everything was just right, and they wanted to keep it like that.

#somepersonswriting #wof #wings of fire #thoughtful wof #whiteout wof #thoughtout wof #wof fanfic #SP-writing

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blurglesmurfklaine · 11 months

Text

Violence is (Almost) Never the Answer

Fandom: Newsies Pairing: Jack Kelly/David Jacobs Rating: T Genres/Tropes: Protective!Jack Words: 4,646

Summary:

Violence is never the answer. Unless of course, the question is “Who soaked Davey Jacobs?” And, unless of course, Jack Kelly is the one doing the asking. Or Jack walks in on Davey getting the crap beat out of him. He responds accordingly.

A/N:

A/N: So my bestie introduced me to newsies and i truly have been a changed person and not known sanity since. As requested by the loml @jlmjlmjlm in which we were facetiming and talking about newsies fic and the conversation turned into: Jess: … why haven’t you written Javey fic for me yet? (Important context: I have never written newsies fic) Me: uh what do you want? Jess: *giggling* I want someone to beat the SHIT out of Davey Me: understood. In this conversation, she also asked for: *Hurt/Comfort (but like, not cheesy) (props to her for thinking i can pull that off though) *Found family *Getting together This is the result [LAW AND ORDER SOUND EFFECT] DUN DUN (ily and know an attempt was made)

Walking Mouth.

Ironically, it had been Race who first used it to refer to Davey, after he’d pointed out Race’s extra hand of Aces in a round of cards. It took some getting used to, but now Davey quite enjoys the nickname given to him by the newsies. It’s supposed to be an acknowledgment, of sorts, of his alleged way with words.

Granted, he’s had the privilege to be schooled, and granted, he is known for frequenting the library on summers off, but he doesn’t know if he’d consider himself the voice of the strike, as Katherine so eloquently put it in her newspaper article.

She’d called Jack the face to Davey’s voice in that same article, and while them being seen as a unit twists Davey’s stomach all up into knots, it’s not a sentiment he can bring himself to agree with. It’s not a title he really feels comfortable giving to himself.

Jack, really, is the one who takes center stage in a crowd. Despite his nickname, most of the time Davey is rather content to just sit on the sidelines and spectate as the chaos of thirty unsupervised kids unfolds.

Today, chaos has taken the name of Racetrack Higgins.

Continue on AO3

#javid #javey #newsies #newsies fanfiction #Jack Kelly #David jacobs #uksies #jack kelly x david jacobs #wow look at me im writing!#no beta we die like jacks mom #listen this is a bitch’s first REAL attempt at newsies fic so

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riddle-me-ri · 2 years

Note

helloo! I'm new here. And I don't know how to use this app actually. But if your requests are still open, could you please write something like: Dano!riddler x reader, Edward obsessed with reader and hacked their Instagram, up to you, account and he sees their dms and bam! Bruce Wayne flirting with reader omg!!!

A/N: Aaahhh okay so, first off, hello, welcome to this glorious virtual abyss of fandom and chaos, and for a request you did perfect! Thanks so much! Secondly, sorry this took so long, but I’m still very nervous for writing Dano Riddler rip and I don’t know if I’ll ever be over it lol, also I was stuck brainstorming how to get this scenario to work in my head, lol. Like I couldn’t think of where else Eddie could meet the reader besides the diner rip, but I completely forgot his job…so yeah we’re gonna go with that! Hope you guys enjoy it!

P.S. Just read book 1 of Riddler Year One and it HELPED IMMENSELY there’s no spoilers though, but there’s a mention of Zach cause he’s just the obnoxious prick I need for Eddie and Reader to kinda bond over their dislike of lol, plus he was teased in the sneak peek earlier this month

Trigger Warnings: mentions of violence (very slightly), details of a possible panic attack? (It's Eddie but he works himself through it.

Word Count: 1.8 k

Reevesverse / Dano Riddler x Reader - Hack Into Your Heart

Edward will never truly understand why you were going out of your way to interact with him.

No one else in the office did, so why did you bother?

You were attractive, clearly bright, and…friendly. People liked you, normal people, not people like him.

Yet, here you were…

“Hey, Ed! How are you this morning?”

“Uh…I..er…fine, Y/N. A-and you?”

“I’m great! Hey, I wanted to ask you some-”

"Hey Rain Man! Hey, you got that Loeb case file ready?”

Well, at least Zach wasn’t just rude to Edward.

“Yeah, here.” Ed flicked the manilla folder to the clean-cut man in front of him.

“Ah, perfect! Thanks, buddy! We’ll make a killin’ with this one!”

Zach turned to look at you and gave you a cheesy full-teeth grin. “Hey, Y/N.” He winked and went off back to his office.

Edward shrunk within himself back into his cubicle. You were no doubt fawning over Zach’s flirty gesture and you’ve completely ignored weird ol’ Eddie–

“Ugh, rude dick.”

Wait, what?

“What?” Ed lifted his head back up.

“Oh, sorry, geez. I just can't stand people like him. Pompous and arrogant.”

Oh…well this is an interesting development.

Edward would never fully admit it to himself, but there was a nagging notion in his brain that identified the early signs of a growing crush. He thought he was beyond that emotion, he would be incapable to ever act upon it like a normal person. No one would ever reciprocate whatever motions he took to even try and court a partner, so he tossed the idea out of his mind.

However, you’ve proven to make the emotion start to gnaw and fester in his gut. Made what he deemed impossible to seem somewhat possible. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to bash your head in or embrace you.

I-I couldn’t hurt them, not when they’ve been nothing but kind to me…but it is infuriating.

“Uh…y-yeah, me neither.” Ed mumbled, after a minute of realizing he never responded to you while lost in his inner turmoil.

You shook your head. “And why does he call you that, Rain Man? It isn’t some weird passive-aggressive thing is it? Cause you shouldn’t have to put up with that, Eddie.”

Eddie. “Oh-uh..n-no nothing like that, I just…I help us-him…make a lot of money.”

Your eyes widened, before you gritted your teeth. “See, ugh…I don’t know how you put up with him. I sure couldn’t, and I feel bad. You shouldn’t have to–”

“Hey Y/N! Do you have those invoices?” A co-worker hollered over from their cubicle.

“Oh, shit!” You said under your breath, but Ed heard and it made him chuckle softly. “Yeah, I’m coming!”

You looked back down to Ed before walking away, “come see me when you get a chance. I still gotta ask you something.”

“O-Okay.”

Just like that you were gone, drifted away back into the hustle and bustle of work. Edward was perplexed by you, but given who he is…and how he is, he knew he couldn’t go down this venture without proper knowledge beforehand.

For once, he actually felt sort of bad about invading someone else’s privacy. Even if he somewhat did so on a legal basis and got paid for just that. Albeit, he knew this was the only way he could get to know you, the true you, without having to ask outright and risk being disappointed when it turned out to be some sort of façade.

Edward knew he had to take social media with a grain of salt, but he knew it was a good place to start, and it wasn’t his first time hacking into Instagram’s databases. Using your full name and a picture of you available on the company’s website he was able to find your account with ease.

He didn’t get far into your account. He found himself stricken with a small sting to his chest. He just realized out of the several months you have been here…

Edward’s never seen you smile, a true genuine happy smile.

Not those minuscule lopsided ones that sufficed lighthearted work discussions. He entertained the idea of possibly, maybe just maybe, one day he could be the reason you smiled like that.

It took Edward sometime to break from the hypnotizing spell your smile bewitched upon him. When he finally did, he found himself endlessly scrolling. He would get enraptured every now and again by another photo of you smiling.

You loved animals, often had pictures of you with your pet(s) or just the pet(s). You were also very proactive against issues Ed felt strongly about. There were pictures of you volunteering at the new orphanage…the way you smiled and embraced the children. Your smile infected the children around you.

You were different. You were different, just like Edward suspected. God, if someone just smiled down at him when he was an orphan, embraced him. Perhaps he wouldn’t be so…estranged from the rest of society.

Nearly an hour and a half went by and he noticed a little red icon near the upper right corner of his screen. This must be the direct messaging interface–

What the hell? BRUCE WAYNE?

Bruce: Hi there, I just wanted to say I’m very impressed with your volunteer work. I admire your dedication to our fair city. I wished many more Gothamites shared your tenacity.

Y/N: Is this some kind of prank?

Bruce: Ahh, I can see how you may think that, but nope it isn’t!

Y/N: Hmm…your account is verified and your photos seem legit…

Apparently, Bruce sent a compelling photo that was no longer available, because your tone immediately changed.

Y/N: Oh wow! I guess it really is you! I…um…sorry about not believing you. Can’t be too careful lol, but I appreciate your comments. I know this city has its faults but it is home.

Bruce: It’s quite all right. It’s pretty smart of you to be on your toes. And I know what you mean, about Gotham.

Threads and threads of conversing. You told him about your volunteering ventures, what you did for work. The two of you bonded over your stories and the obvious comfortability between the two of you.

Bruce: You’re truly a beautiful person, you know? As cheesy as that sounds, but you are, inside and out.

Edward’s vision started slowly slipping into the vignette of red around his perception. He had to put aside his personal computer and breathe. He opened up the daily crossword and started focusing on the words, the clues and their answers. The red slowly started fading away.

No, no, no! He stole the public eye from me– from us at the Orphanage. I won’t let him get away with this, too! Not when I can still do something about it.

As much as Bruce slid in some compliments, they didn’t seem to move you. You thanked him for them, but never reciprocated or focused on them for too long.

Maybe they’ll reciprocate mine?

Now armed with the appropriate knowledge and even with an excuse to actually see you. Edward decided to make way to your cubicle.

It seemed sort of surreal for him to interact with you in a workplace setting. Now knowing who you were when you were free and yourself. He was going to have to act aloof to that version of you, until you revealed it to him.

He was so determined and heated at your exchange with Bruce Wayne, he didn’t actually plan out how he was going to get your attention. He especially didn’t know since you were busy on the phone.

Edward waved his hands when he noticed your peripheral was close to where he stood. You immediately took notice and smiled at him.

That’s close to the one in the pictures…

You held up your hand and made a mouthing motion with it, indicating the person on the phone was chatting your life away. Ed couldn’t help but slightly chuckle.

“Yes-Yes, I understand. Okay, I-I’m sorry I’ve gotta get going, I’ve got another important phone call coming in. I will update you whenever I learn anything new…okay, thank you!”

You groaned after you hung up the phone. “You’re a lifesaver, Eddie. I didn’t think she’d ever stop talking…”

Eddie…Eddie…he loathed when Zach called him that, but…he could get used to you saying it.

“Oh, uh, no problem. You handled it pretty well…”

“That’s what years of customer service will do for you.” You scoffed.

“Um-uh, y-you wanted to ask me something? I-I finally got some free time…”

“Oh my God, I totally forgot. Yes! Um, so, this is going to sound very strange and extremely forward. But…I’m hosting a Game Night at the Gotham City Library with some school kids and a few of the orphans from the new orphanage. And I’ve noticed you doing the newspaper crosswords and code breakers, I thought you might want to join.”

You were inviting him? You were going to include Edward Nashton in a local outgoing function? For the first time since he’s been alive, Ed’s brain was slightly misfiring.

“I-I-um…I-I don’t really go out much.” Edward found himself balling up the fabric of his rain jacket.

“O-Oh, I see, it’s okay. I know it’s a lot and kind of sudden. But maybe we could do something less…crowded? I’d love to try and come up with some puzzles for the kids to solve and actually get them to use their brains.” You giggled. “Does that sound more...manageable? You can still absolutely say no, no hard feelings!”

“N-No…I-I um…that sounds like fun.”

Fun? When was the last time Edward had ever said that word out loud to anyone about anything.

Edward’s eyes widened at your reaction.

There it is. That smile…I did it…I can do this.

“Yay! Awesome! Thank you so much, Eddie! I really appreciate it! And even if you’re not there, I promise I won’t take the credit. Unlike a certain individual.” You shot daggers at the office door right above your cubicle. Edward had no idea you were right below Zach. You poor thing.

Edward found himself smiling back, genuinely for the first time in a long time. “I know you won’t. I believe you–trust you.”

You got up from your chair with some files piled into one arm. You walked by him and placed your hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad, I want you too. You don’t have to be alone in this world, Eddie.” You pat his shoulder and then make your way upstairs.

“I’ll message you with more details, ok?” You smiled at him, waving as you went further up the stairs.

Edward found himself nodding and waving back.

You’ll rot in hell one day, Wayne. But I’m not going to let you take them down with you…

#reevesverse riddler x reader #reevesverse edward nashton x reader #dano riddler x reader #dano edward nashton x reader #ri writes

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auntie-venom · 9 months

Text

Will of Fate

Chapter Eight

Fandom: Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Story Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Characters: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Summary: There hasn’t been an unidentified spacecraft in the stratosphere of Arkadia in over two decades, let alone three in one day. Those skilled or mad enough to venture into the Chaos unguided were few and far between. That means no one has ever made it to Arkadia who wasn’t intending to be here.

Until today.

Din Djarin finds an unmapped planet filled with beings who have the same powers as the Child, but know nothing of the force or the Jedi.

Chapter Summary: A trip to the prefecture and the mechanic

Word Count - 3,870

Chapter Warnings: None

Will of Fate Masterlist

Read on Ao3

A/N: Hey y’all, sorry for the long wait. We had family and friends visiting from our home country and hosting duty prevented me from sitting down at the computer and doing edits. I was able to continue writing on my phone so at least progress is being made even if y’all can’t see it yet. I also caught a case of Miguel O’Hara brain rot for a bit, so I was distracted for a few weeks with that.

This chapter is dedicated to the Paris prefecture: fuck you, very much.

Chapter eight

Din can admit with full honesty that his well of patience is very deep. He has waited for bounties to appear while maintaining uncomfortable positions for hours. He has surveilled a safe house for over a week from a tree canopy to confirm a potential lead to a target. He has begrudgingly walked at the child’s pace for two kilometers when the kid refused, by a screeching tantrum, to be carried. But the verbal gymnastics of politics is something he has no patience for and he has to actively fight down the itch for violence.

The sterile prefecture was staffed with dour looking people doing the work with the least amount of effort in order to get through the mass of civilians who were just trying to file the right paperwork. Every person who goes up to a staff member is greeted with pursed lips and a look down the nose full of disdain.

It was even directed towards Eziriel who claimed in the landspeeder that she had dressed to her station with a draping blushing gold jumpsuit and a long caped navy blazer in hopes to possibly make the bureaucratic hoops easier to jump through, but it was apparently a useless tactic. It didn’t matter if the civilian was in rags or glittering jewels, they were a mere nuisance to everyone who worked there.

Din was glad to have the woman on his side, but even her disarming banter and warm smiles could not penetrate the lifeless pointy-eared Arkadian and his protocol droid who were in charge of Din’s case. He watches as Eziriel slips into a more diplomatic facade once she realizes her usual friendly route wasn’t going to get the results she wanted and he observes something he hasn’t seen in her before. True irritation.

Even in the handful of days he’s been around Eziriel, Din feels like he has a pretty good read on her. She is one of those who uses teasing humor to soften reality but also has the tendency to use it as a shield to deflect from true vulnerability. He doesn’t think many notice the deflection since she is always open and honest about any topic, but seeing the pensive look that came across her face when he asked why she was willing to hide things from her government for him, it suddenly registered that he has seen that look on her a handful of times previously: when she admitted to finding the sabotaging item and her worry of it; when he pushed beyond her deflection and to get her to accept his genuine thanks with the Jedi research; and when she admitted to him what the oath truly entailed. All these little vulnerable moments that she tried to hide with witty words finally came into focus once Din recognized the pattern, but the look she is currently presenting is none of the ones he has seen before.

She is expressive to a fault, so when all of her expressions drain from her face he takes note. He focuses in on the new tightness in the corner of her eyes while she forces a saccharine smile when the bored staff member, once again, sends her away with a wave of his hand at her questioning why they needed to fill out a physical form when they’ve already filled out the digital one. He’s seen her disguise her flustering amusement with faux irritation, but there was a true kindling of rage in her eyes when she filled out a handwritten physical copy of the same form she painstakingly filled out the night before. Seeing her fume and grumble under her breath was what caused Din to stop pacing like a caged beast and shift all his focus on observing her for the rest of the visa process.

He didn’t know if he fully liked the blazing fury that radiates off her ever-smiling facade, but admittedly, a dark part of him enjoys that focused rage. He will concede that he did miss the warm mischief her eyes usually held that was lost in favor of icy concentration, but when the third round of interviews gets too intrusive he watches as her normally friendly banter turns into scathing definitive statements that defends his clan of two and a fire burns in his gut.

He acknowledged when his concussion cleared that Eziriel is an objectively attractive woman. With her clever brain, witty tongue, and kind hands he could see how easily someone could be enchanted by her, but he was not one to be drawn into amorous attachments outside of carnal stress relief. Eziriel was meant to be a distant star in his time with her. Something in the dark night sky of his life that was a bright guiding beacon when he was thrown from his path; a star that shined so beautifully that he could admire from a distance in his memory when he was back on his trek and no longer lost; an astronomical body not meant for him to get any closer in exploration.

But then she puts on a vicious smile and fierce tone and defends his culture to the case officer when he tries to claim that they could not proceed without facial recognition, names, or at the very least a decrypted chain code, even though Arkadia doesn’t even use them. She was prepared for that and brings up a hundred year’s worth of data that held passage clearance case files where encrypted chain codes or alternate identifiers were used to adhere to culture differences, some of which were Mandalorian files Din noted.

That small shining star’s gravitational pull dragged him in to witness the might of its white-hot plasma and he doesn’t know if he has the strength to look away.

Kriff.

He nearly misses the resolution to their argument but is focused back at the defeated sigh of the case officer. He grumbles that doing it her way would take hours of paperwork, as if it hasn’t already taken hours already, and that it could be weeks before getting any approval.

“I am terribly sorry that you must do the bare minimum of your job description. My deepest condolences,” she says with that venomous inflection and that sickening sweet smile. “Here is an approval to move their case to the top of the stack at every turn. King Amarian’s royal seal and everything.”

She pulls a datapad out of her bag to add to the pile of other datapads and paperwork. Din didn’t need to be able to magically read emotions to see that the case officer is frustrated, regardless of how well he was trying to hide it. The case officer begrudgingly takes a hand and vocal print of Din as proof of identity. He then has his protocol droid collect everything and commands them back to the waiting room in order to wait for the temporary visas.

After a total of six hours they are finally walking back to where she parked the landspeeder. She tugs her blazer off as Din settles the kid into the back seat. As soon as she plants herself in the pilot seat and the doors close she buries her face into her blazer and lets out a ragged scream, startling the child and Din both. He feels amusement pull at his mouth when she pulls her head up and she is all wild copper curls and frazzled red faced, gone was the smiling stoic facade she has been presenting in the prefecture.

“Maker’s hairy balls,” she says and Din’s almost smile grows at the colorful language she has been holding back for hours. “I’ve always heard it was bad, that they always started every interaction with ‘it’s not possible’, but kriffing hell!” She slumps her form deep into the seat and rests her head against the headrest taking a moment to close her eyes.

“Thank the stars I had Princess Ziri on my side,” he quips and catches the corner of her lip quirk up at her nickname. Her head lolls to face him as the icy fire drains from her eyes and mirth starts to refill them once again, and it makes his chest alight with an ember of satisfaction to cause that reaction.

“Well, Princess Ziri is starving and so is the little laddie,” she says, sitting straight once more and glancing over her shoulder to smile at the kid in his little safety seat before patting Din on the unarmored part of his arm and pointing at his helmet. “I’d make you buy me a drink after all that bantha shit, but since I am oathbound to your wellbeing I can’t, in good conscience, make you pay. So let’s say you owe me a drink once my oath is fulfilled.”

“Done,” he says with a single nod of his head as she gives him a true smile filled with that teasing kindness that he has gotten used to in the last four days and begins pulling out of the parking garage. He doesn’t even bother to ask where she is taking them, he just sits and listens to her talk to his ward about all the types of desserts the restaurant she plans to take them has.

════════════════════════════════════

The small cozy restaurant at the edge of the city wasn’t too busy when they show up between the lunch and dinner rush, but the middle-aged owner makes it a point to exchange pleasantries with Eziriel and fondly talk to the child in between serving other tables. Din spends the lunch watching the child be spoiled by Eziriel who gives the boy a piece of each of the deserts she could get a sample of before Din has to stop her which earns him a pout from the pair. At the end of the meal Eziriel insists on a to-go bag of food and shoves it into Din’s arms before he could protest, claiming that if he can take a moment to eat he should.

Once they are back in the landspeeder she takes them out of the city and starts coasting next to the large lake heading towards the starport on the opposite end. With the gentle stringed music she had put on the kid is nearly instantly asleep and Din takes that quiet moment to ask a question he has been curious about for a few days.

“What would have happened if I refused to apply for the planetary visa?” he keeps his voice low enough not to wake the child and he watches her face cringe at the question.

“Then we would have probably had to detain you two,” she admits with a lowered voice.

“‘We’? You would have tried to detain me?” Din says with amusement at the mere thought of her small frame trying to take him in.

“No, no, no, ‘we’ as in Arkadia, not me personally. If you were not cooperative or receptive to my help I’d have been forced to call the Enforcers in,” she explains and from the few times he’s heard the word he assumes that the Enforcers are Arkadia’s military. “It would have been nothing personal, but the location of Arkadia must remain hidden from anyone who can’t be trusted. I hope you understand.”

“I’m not offended that you would have protected your people,” he replies honestly. “I am mildly surprised you didn’t call your military when I pointed my blaster at you, being royalty and all.”

“Twice,” she amends with a smirk.

“Twice,” he agrees at the number of times he’s drawn his blaster on her.

“Well, you started off pointing your blaster at me through your ship’s viewscreen. So that wasn’t a big threat.” Her smirk grows at the memory.

“I had a head injury,” Din grumbles and she chuckles at him.

“I, for one, am glad you were eventually agreeable and proved yourself trustworthy enough for me not to call the Enforcers, despite your ornery introduction,” she gives him that sincere look once again as they fall back into a comfortable silence with some soft melodic music coming from the speeder’s comms accompanying their trip around the lake.

After a peaceful drive through the wooded lakeside they arrive at an industrial part of the city where the starport was the primary focus of the area. Most of the surrounding buildings were either private docking bays or businesses focused on space travel and maintenance.

As she pilots the landspeeder through the maze of buildings Eziriel gasps and points to a small fleet of sleek rose gold starfighters docked on an upper platform of the starport and excitedly tells Din about how a prototype device she has been developing for the past year was being tested on them. When he asks about the prototype he takes in how she perks up and starts happily rambling to him about how the device she invented conserves power and how quickly it can transfer that power to systems that need it, ultimately creating a more reactive user interface than ever before, which results in the ship’s systems to function at a higher rate. It was honestly a rather mundane topic that Din barely kept up with, but the way her eyes light up when she explains the device as if it were the most innovative creation in centuries gives Din an insight of how passionately she feels towards her work.

By the time she pulls them into a public garage Din has learned more about electrical relays than he ever cared about knowing. He tries his best to collect the kid from his safety seat and place him in his pram without waking him and is moderately successful, provoking only a few grumpy grunts from the child before falling back asleep. She leads them out of the garage and down the cobbled street pointing out shops that could be useful if he needed to restock his ship if he were to visit again and when she mentions that it causes him to mentally pause.

He has not really considered coming back since he’s primarily been focused on leaving. Arkadia seems like a lovely, if not privileged, planet. It would be wise to use the passage visa to a planet that was uncharted and overly secure. It would ultimately be a great place to lie low if they needed to avoid the Empire remnants in his search for the Jedi. Not to mention Eziriel mentioned something about Mandalorians in the prefecture, maybe there is a covert here that he could get in contact with. The Armorer told him to search out Mandalorian in his hunt for the Jedi, but he thought his bounty hunter skills were enough to find a trail to them without aid. Din sighs at his hubris and makes a note to ask Eziriel about the Mandalorian history here when they are alone again.

After a few turns and a push through some young rowdy pilots who start to jeer at Eziriel before quickly holding their tongue once they see his broad figure behind her, she leads them to a shop front. The front of the building looks like it was once very modern, but age and time made it stick out against the newer buildings. The windows and pathways are filled with large potted plants that climb up the walls in a verdant maze, except for a large square portion of the vines that is neatly cut away to show the building’s red facade that has the name “Torbin’s'' freshly painted in a shiny gold script. Following Eziriel through the door they are greeted by a smiling middle-aged Nautolan woman seated behind an organized desk dressed in a flowing floral dress that compliments her blue skin.

“Bless the stars, look at you dressed all pretty! Not a single grease stain or burn mark in sight! Trying to impress your new Mandalorian?” the woman says with waggling eyebrows towards Eziriel.

“Yes. I’ve been told unblemished clothes are the way to court a Mandalorian out of their armor and into my bed. You figured me out, Filia,” Eziriel quips with an overly serious tone and a smirk. Filia throws her head back in a laugh causing the golden jewelry wrapped around her head tentacles to jingle noisily. She pulls Eziriel into a brief hug before holding her out at arms length.

“He should be so lucky,” she winks at Dins and hooks Eziriel’s arm into her own to guide her through the waiting room that they had first entered into. Filia leads them through a hallway with shelves cluttered with labeled ship parts as she regales Eziriel with her daughter’s recent accomplishments in some sort of medical academy.

Opening the backdoor a wide open workspace with three attached hangers comes into view. The tall overhead hangar door was retracted and two smaller towing vessels sat in the center of the workspace while a crew of three Arkadians were inspecting the mounted tractor beams. A green skinned Nautolan man stood with a datapad and was giving out instructions to his crew. He turns when he hears Filia call and makes his way over to them after issuing a final command to his crew.

“You must be the owner of that downed antique in Ga’ladora’s Canyon,” the man says with a grin and holds out a hand for Din to shake. “I am Torbin Dresden.”

“She’s old, but faithful,” Din responds, shaking his hand firmly before resting it on his belt. “Eziriel has told me you are the best mechanic to get the Razor Crest back in the sky.”

“Bah,” he says, swatting his hand in the air dismissively. “She just says ‘cause I let her tinker with the electronics of ships I’m working on when she needs to clear her head. But I will use everything in my skill set to get your ship up and running.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Din nods in thanks.

“I will say, with the scans that Eziriel sent me of how it is wedged in the canyon, it might take us longer than usual with extraction,” Torbin informs them with a slight grimace. “So it might be a few days before it even gets to the shop, but I can comm you when it is if you’d like to retrieve anything from it. Or if you’d like to amend any of Eziriel’s plans for the ship.”

Din cocks his head before slowly turning it down towards Eziriel. “Eziriel’s plans?” He asks with a cool voice trying to rein in the temper he feels brewing at the audacity of the woman making calls for his ship. At the furrow of her brow he assumes she feels that irritation.

“Cool your jets, Lori. I just sent him the original blueprint of a ST-70 Assault Ship,” she says with a placating wave of her hand. “I was going to have him use better quality material and upgrade a few things if needed, but was going to run that by you first.” Din feels his anger recede at that. She wasn’t trying to make decisions for him, she was just trying to help by giving the mechanic the blueprint in advance so he could better prepare.

“Thank you, but the upgrades are not necessary. I don’t have the spare credits for excessive spending,” he says to her before glancing at Torbin. “Just get it hyperspace-worthy.”

“Mando, this is coming out of my pocket.” He opens his mouth to argue how he doesn’t need charity when he sees her with a serious expression, eyes pleading with him. “Your safety is my priority. That includes a high-functioning ship that can manage the wilds of space,” she says slowly with deliberate emphasized beats.

Din stares at her earnest face while he has an internal debate. He detests being in debt to someone, it hangs around his neck like an invisible collar with a chain that yanks him at the most inconvenient time. People have abused the favors he’s owed them when he was younger and he has strived to avoid becoming indebted ever since. Being under anyone’s thumb repulses Din down to his bones.

However, Eziriel explained the night before the importance of her binding herself to him and the vow she made for his safety. She implied that not letting her fulfill that vow would ultimately hurt her and that it was a very sacred thing that her culture maintains, which held no ties or expectations on his end. It reminds Din of a Wookiee life debt, which is seen just as seriously when pledged. Sure, she is bending the verbiage to go beyond what he deems necessary, but her generosity and the kindness behind it sways Din to trust her that much more.

“Torbin is giving me a great deal because of the free work he gets out of me, every single decision will be approved by you, and I will even do all the electrical labor so you don’t have feel like you are draining my bank dry,” she negotiates before Din has a chance to respond. She leans in and elbows him playfully and in a dramatic whisper says, “Not that you could, royal coffers and all that.”

“Okay,” he eventually responds in a soft voice and watches her body melt into relief. “I don’t like being indebted to people.”

“Well good thing you won’t owe me anything,” she says with an equally soft voice.

“Feeling indebted to people is nearly as bad,” he admits.

“Well, maybe I can find you things to do for me to relieve that burden,” she says with a growing smirk. “You’re good with kids, maybe cover my biweekly childminding gig?”

Din releases a small exhale of amusement and turns to where Torbin and Filia had drifted away during his and Eziriel’s intense conversation. Din waves them over and thanks them for the work they are going to put into the ship while Eziriel fills out the datapad Torbin hands to her.

The rest of the conversation of repair planning goes smoothly and Din is only momentarily taken aback when he witnesses Torbin casually float the filled out datapad to his crew with a barely there wave of his hand while making a friendly dig at Eziriel. It makes him realize that it will take more than a day surrounded by the magic wielding citizens of Arkadia for Din to get used to the casualness of their powers. The thought of getting used to the everyday power usage of the people brings up his previous internal debate on coming back to this planet and using it as a refuge.

Could he feel secure enough to hide away here if necessary? Possibly, he thinks as he watches that rose gold patrol squadron take off from the starport while they walk back to the landspeeder; Eziriel pointing to them and chatting away to the now-awake toddler.

Would he come back to this planet even if he didn’t need to use it as a safe place to lay low? Din looks over at the child who pats Eziriel’s face while joining her in pointing at the starfighters and he pushes down the chest-warming simmering thought of yes before continuing to follow the woman back to the landspeeder.

<< Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine >>

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #din djarin x original female character #fanfiction #pedro pascal #star wars au #din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x original character #the mandolarian #mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian #third person pov #third person perspective #the mandalorian x original character #the mandalorian x reader

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louisisalarrie · 1 month

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Hi! Do you think that either of them still want/need support from us as they seemed to do in the band? They both seem to protect their private lives way more now. And I guess that’s part of maturing and changing how you see the world and how it sees you. I mean, other than Louis shouting “him” in his concerts, he’s much more subdued now. That pair of blue/green trackies at the start of his USA leg was not a choice I’d have made, given the way a lot of his fans see that combination- unless he was making a subtle (hahahaha, that wasn’t subtle) nod to us. And H maybe (but the pics were grainy- although I’d like to think it was) wore a blue bandanna on one of his many, many walks round London last year.

I truly hope that they are happy together however that looks to them. I know, as you said in another ask, their relationship is unique, and I get that. I’ve been with my partner for 20 years, but due to his job we weren’t on the same continent for over half of last year. And that wasn’t unusual for us. Anyway, I’m rambling, just wanted to know your thoughts on our place in the fandom. Thanks!

Hey lovely, thanks for reaching out! And welcome to the show.

Louis and Harry both do live very different lives with very different careers these days. We aren’t seeing them interact at all, and it can be frustrating to still believe in it but barely see any of it as a comparison of the 1d days. And yes, they certainly did need our support more back then, because they weren’t used to the closeting. They were young, didn’t understand why their love could be seen as so wrong, and we’re struggling under the pressure from their team, including constant tours and albums etc., ya know? So I think they relied on our support so heavily to get them through, particularly with RBB and the Big Gay War.

But coming out, no matter who you are, but particularly if you’re coming out to millions of people and you can face severe backlash, is super terrifying. Their careers will be affected, their privacy gone, and trying to navigate that while touring and stunting and dealing with contracts from even the 1d days still hanging over their heads, would just be so tricky. It’s a huge plan and timeline they will need to work through, as to not crash and burn and fuck over people who quite literally hold their careers in their hands. Unless they get sick of it and just break one day and don’t care who will sue them and what will happen, then it’s gonna be a long process.

But throughout this long process, they’re gonna need us. They’ve needed us from the very start, and still to this day they see what we say and our support online and I’m sure they love that we’re still fighting for them, even though they haven’t been on the same bloody continent for god knows how long. They still see us loving them for who they truly are, and not lapping up their public personas like the rest of the GP. It would certainly feel very validating.

When they come out, boy they’re gonna need us. Shit is gonna hit the fan. The fans are gonna fight like crazy and it’s gonna be absolute chaos, which is probably another thing they understand could be very bad for their careers right now. But we’ll be supporting them and we’ll be here til the very end.

A lot of larries have left since the hiatus, because they felt they didn’t need to bother supporting Larry anymore because there wasn’t any content between them to support. They entirely blanked each other (except for a few mentions in interviews) and so people gave up. Felt like they were wasting their time on “guys who didn’t want to come out” and all that. So it’s pretty heartbreaking, but it can be very hard to stick around and show support for something which you aren’t actually seeing. It’s really sad, and I hope those true larries will support them throughout their coming out.

And wow, that must’ve been tricky being so far away from your partner for so long, but being with someone for 20 years definitely shows your love, understanding, patience, and acceptance of each other, which is truly beautiful. And it does seem similarly to Harry and louis now that they’ve been together for over a decade. They’re doing their thing now, whatever that looks like to them, and it’s kind of become pretty normal, but they’re making it work. They see us, and we see them.

In short, I think they still definitely want us, but the way they need us has probably shifted slightly. Not more or less, but they now need our support for them in different ways now that they’re solos and we aren’t seeing their love every day anymore. They’re probably shocked we’re all still here tbh hahahaha. The patience larries have is undeniable.

#answered #izzieb

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somuchyoudontknow · 10 months

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Sophia, I don't think you are getting that people's level of discernment has been really fucked with this situation. Let's go over SOME of the shit that has happened since November; flight stalking, analyzing of pics, accusations of photoshop, casting couch rumors, fortune cookie messages, weird ass pics with grey boxes, countertops, rumors of hookups with young girls, accusations of pornography, Malibu versus Portugal, Gucci shoes, second pap walks, SOURCES, SOURCES, SOURCES, houses, Architectural Digest, candles, Costa Rica, receipts(like actual fucking receipt LOL), fighting on LSA, twitter and here and much more. Notice, ZERO of this has to do with him; it's all us. There's too much information floating and a lot of it is irrelevant to the actual question being asked; is this real or pr? All of this shit is just chaos and it's truly confusing folks. Those blogs were speaking to the group who desperately want this to be pr so of course folks overlooked a lot of shit. I believe 100% this is PR. I'll say I have been in a discord with the person some of us feel this originated with since like December of last year and she has ALWAYS been suspect.

Thank you for sharing your opinion. And yes, I have been told there have been very weird people on discord.

It is us but can I just say one thing. I think it has been a mistake on his team's part as well to involve the fandom and drop breadcrumbs for fans to follow. Too many shady people got involved esp people claiming to be local from MA and coming to blogs and lsa to drop their sightings and stories they claim to have heard from around.

Tbh there is no way to confirm their stories and now it has become a total mess.

#stayawayfrompsychics #fandom bs #chris-evans #chris evans pr

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set-phasers-to-whump · 2 years

Text

emergency blanket

prompt: emergency blanket (alt no.14)

whumpee: sakari nurmi

fandom: karppi/deadwind

hi this fic is a little different from other stuff in an undefined kinda way...it's set pre-series by a few years at a time in which i imagine sakari has recently moved to helsinki and doesn't work with the police. i enjoyed messing around with this but it is a bit different to my usual stuff idk. hope you like it anyway!

He’s ripped violently out of a deep sleep by the sound of an explosion. The building shakes. Things rattle. Plaster is falling from the ceiling. He knows this because it’s falling on him.

He leaps out of bed, heart pounding. He knows perfectly well what to do in the event of an explosion, but he’s never actually had to act before - it was always just drills and being ready, but he’d escaped any actual explosions.

Until now. Plaster is still raining down from the ceiling, which means he should get under a table, but he lives on the third floor. If the floor collapses, the table isn’t going to do him much good.

He needs to get out.

He slowly walks across the room and to the door. The floor creaks underneath him but holds steady. The fire alarms - those that work, anyway - are ringing. People are screaming. He feels the door, which isn’t hot, then opens it.

He’s met with chaos. People are pushing down the hallway towards the stairs and only one of the lightbulbs in the ceiling is working so it’s sort of dark but the fire alarm is flashing and there’s debris scattered over the floor and at the other end of the hall there’s just a hole where there should be a floor.

He joins his neighbors in the journey to the stairwell and has the brief thought that he should have put on shoes, or a jacket. Once he gets outside, he’s going to be freezing.

At least you’ll be alive, he reminds himself. This thought is punctuated by a loud crashing noise behind him. Everyone collectively turns around. Something unidentifiable but very much on fire has fallen through the ceiling. People start screaming again, assuming they ever stopped. He nearly gets knocked to the ground as everyone suddenly starts shoving wildly in a now truly desperate attempt to get to the stairs.

The heat of the fire is steadily growing, though it’s still a good distance away down the hall. Eventually, Sakari makes it into the stairwell. It’s crowded with people coming down from higher floors, but someone grabs his arm and pulls him into the throng and then he’s moving down, down, down, surrounded by people in various states of undress. Some of them are bleeding, burned. He guesses the explosion happened on an upper floor.

The procession downwards is slow-going, but it is going. He makes it to the second floor, where a few more people push into the group. He supposes most of the people from this floor have already made it down.

Finally, the exit is in sight. It’s a door marked ‘fire exit, use only in case of emergency.’ It’s been propped open and there’s a blinking light above it. Outside he can hear sirens mixing with the echo of the fire alarm.

He steps outside. The sidewalk is cold beneath his bare feet, but at least it isn’t snowing. He moves along with a crowd of people. He has no idea where they’re going besides away, which is more than good enough for him.

He turns back briefly and looks at the building. Part of it, starting on the fifth floor and extending down through the third, is simply gone. Flames lick out of the gaping hole where this part of the building used to be. Here and there he can see fires behind windows, smoke rising into the dark sky. As he looks, part of the fourth floor breaks free from the building and crashes to the ground. People scream. Someone runs into him from behind and he nearly loses his balance.

“Hey, keep moving!”

He turns away from the horrible scene and keeps walking. At last he figures out what everyone has been walking towards: there’s a barrier being set up by police, who are shouting for people to get behind it. He passes the barrier, at which point the people around him begin to disperse. Some of those who are bleeding are being treated by paramedics. Groups of people huddle together, calling out for people they’ve gotten separated from. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t have anyone here to join, doesn’t really know his neighbors. He’s not hurt, either, so he can’t go to the medics. Can he just leave? He feels like he can’t. And anyway, where would he go? His car’s broken. He doesn’t have shoes on. He’s kind of trapped.

He briefly wonders whether any of his things will be salvageable. Whether the firefighters will extinguish the flames before they reach his apartment. He hopes so. He doesn’t have a lot of stuff, and what little he does have is all in there.

But there’s nothing he can do about that. He forces his thoughts away from his apartment and decides to just walk around. After a few minutes of this aimless walking, he comes to the conclusion that the best thing to do is to simply sit down.

He finds an empty section of the curb that has a view of the activity and sinks down. On his right is a mailbox, and on his left is a family with two small children. Neither one of them is crying, but their mother is. Something twists inside him. He stands back up, not willing to intrude.

He walks around a bit more. Tents are being set up next to ambulances, and people are gathering under them, he supposes for medical treatment. There is one tent that has sides as well as a roof. He stares at it and wonders how many people have died. Wonders what exactly had happened.

He finds himself walking over towards the tents without really thinking about it. He looks in on the scenes beneath them, half imagining that he’ll see someone he knows, but everyone is a stranger.

“Hey!” someone shouts. He’s been hearing people shout “hey!” for however long it’s been (and really, he realizes, he has absolutely no idea whether it’s been seconds or hours), and only one of those shouts had been directed at him. He isn’t doing anything wrong, to his knowledge, so he figures whoever’s shouting isn’t shouting at him.

“Hey, come here!” the person shouts again. He looks around, curious to see what’s happening, and makes eye contact with a paramedic. He figures she’ll just wave him along, but instead she nods and calls, “come here!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

He looks down at himself, suddenly wondering whether he’s somehow been bleeding this whole time and had failed to notice. But he’s fine, he thinks.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, approaching the paramedic.

“You’re shaking.”

He is? He hadn’t noticed. Now, though, he does. He’s cold. Really cold. And afraid, he realizes, even though the most imminent danger has already passed.

He exhales sharply. His chest feels tight. He wraps his arms around himself as this whole barrage of previously-unrecognized sensations suddenly hits him all at once.

Something touches him. He jolts in surprise, and the paramedic gently puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she says. “It’s only a blanket.”

It is a blanket. One of those silvery, reflective ones. He’s seen them a few times before, though he’s never actually had one to himself. He had always assumed that people had been stretching the truth, calling the things thermal blankets when to him they had resembled nothing so much as sheets of tinfoil.

To his surprise, however, the blanket really is quite warm. He pulls it tightly around himself, tucking his arms in underneath it and holding onto it as though it might be taken away from him at any second.

And then the paramedic gives him another blanket. This one is more normal. It’s thick and not terribly soft but it’s warm, too, and actually feels like a blanket. He draws this one tightly around his body as well, burrowing into the warmth of the layered blankets as much as possible.

“Please come find me or someone else if you don’t stop shivering soon,” the paramedic tells him, and he nods and watches her hurry off to help another paramedic with a man whose whole torso is covered in blood.

Still shivering and overwhelmed, Sakari again finds himself a place to sit, this time beneath the tent, near the back of an open ambulance.

The ground is frigid beneath him, and even when he adjusts the blankets so he can sit on them, he can still feel it. He tucks himself into as tight a ball as he can manage and wraps the blankets around himself again, trying especially hard to cover both his feet and his arms. Again he wishes that he had brought his shoes, or that at least he had gone to bed wearing socks.

But he hadn’t, and now he’s here, sitting on the freezing, hard ground and shaking so hard he almost feels sick. He tries to focus on getting warm, tries not to think about the explosion. Tries not to imagine getting caught in the flames, trapped by the rubble. He’s lucky, he supposes. Bad things always seem to happen to the people around him, and not to him.

It doesn’t feel like luck. It feels like a horrible mixture of fear and guilt squeezing him from the inside out. He pulls the blankets still tighter around his body and wonders if the shaking will ever stop.

thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed this even though it was a bit weird. i just love exploring his backstory and making shit up :) see you tomorrow!!

#whumptober2022 #altno.14 #emergency blanket #karppi #deadwind #fic #sakari nurmi #caught in an explosion #shaking #comfort #i say things #my writing #turned in one paper today. just have to write another one tomorrow. and then i am free. it's so close now #just have to yknow. analyze and write and edit. we got this. probably.

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