#would like to know if other translations had that error as well
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(Translation) Gilbert's Beast Manual
Case 3: The Correct Way to Love Gilbert
Part 3 of Gilbert's current party event, wherein Emma learns something new about Gilbert.
Spoilers. Yeah this one's just a straight-up translation. Also I read using a translator so expect le errors. Case 1 | Case 2 | His POV
Gilbert was a fiendishly jealous man—something both he and others attested to.
Not only the men I spoke to, but women and animals as well; they all become the target of his jealousy. The same jealousy across the board.
But lately that hasn't been all.
Gilbert: This tie keeping your hair up, it gets to be with you 24/7, doesn't it?
Gilbert: ...You're so mean for setting me aside. Actually, wouldn't it be better to just wear your hair down?
Gilbert: Your chair here, doesn't it basically get to feel your warmth the entire time you're on it?
Gilbert: I'm going to hold you on my lap because it's kind of pissing me off. Sharing your body heat with a chair is more than it deserves.
Gilbert: This hallway you tread on every day—
Emma: Okay, can you please not be jealous of the literal hallway!?
The more time we spent together, the more the potential targets for his jealousy went up.
I didn't get how he could be so jealous of every little thing.
Because even though I loved Gilbert, jealousy was something I didn't really feel much of.
(Oh...)
Gilbert: —I see. So they've already completed their draft. Excellent, excellent.
Roderic: It seems experiencing your wrath this morning made them respond accordingly.
(...Roderic's here)
Having just finished my bath, I quickly hid myself in the shadows.
If I stepped out in the open wearing only my bathrobe over the black negligee Gilbert had made for me, not only would Roderic's life be in danger but mine as well.
(Still... I've never really had a chance to see Gilbert when he speaks to Roderich when I'm not around)
(...I wonder what that vibe is like)
As my curiosity got the better of me and I covertly took a peek...
Gilbert: I'd like for them to submit the draft before it ever gets to that point next time.
Roderic: It's only because nobody can come up with out-of-the-box ideas like you.
Gilbert: They're all conclusions one can arrive at rationally. It's not like I'm making unreasonable demands of anyone.
Gilbert sat at his desk, a serious expression on his face as he moved his quill.
He definitely wasn't smiling like he usually did, but at the same time he didn't seem angry either.
It was an expression I didn't recognize.
Gilbert: ...Also, the draft was poorly-constructed. With this there's too gaps for us to drive that old man into a corner.
Roderic: Then I'll have it returned to you in such a way that we can.
Gilbert: I only appreciate haste. You help them too, Roderic. I'd like to have the contents finalized before our next regular meeting.
Gilbert: If we leave that old man unchecked, he may soon start a losing battle against neighboring countries.
Roderic: ...Understood, sir.
Gilbert: What's the next document?
Roderic: It's here, sir.
Gilbert: ...I know I keep asking, but is there more still?
Roderic: There's a mountain of things I'd like you to look over.
Gilbert: I thought I'd delegated my authority out.
Roderic: This just means that Obsidian needs you.
Gilbert: That's certainly a problem.
Roderic: No, sir, it's not.
Gilbert: ...*sigh* Unless we can get everyone past the idea that failure is some sort of capital crime, won't it be difficult for you and I to manage all this work on our own?
Gilbert: Seems like my presence is a hindrance after all.
Roderic: Please don't say that!
Gilbert: Fine, fine. If you don't like it, then go give out this PSA.
Gilbert: "As long as there's no fraud or corruption at work, I won't kill you over a simple failure. So please rely on your own judgement more."
Roderic: ...Very well, sir.
(So that's the kind of vibe Gilbert has doing official duties when I'm absent)
The atmosphere about him was so serious and earnest that it naturally made me want to stand at attention, and I found myself captivated.
(If he's not smiling, then maybe that's his real expression)
(Gilbert's known Roderic for a long time, so he's able to drop his guard around him)
(...Okay, what's this gloomy feeling I'm having...)
Roderic: ...Sir, let's deal with the rest of this tomorrow.
Gilbert: Hey. You definitely didn't see anything, right?
Roderic: I saw nothing and I noticed nothing.
Gilbert: Is that so? That's fine, then. Thank you for your hard work.
Roderic quickly gathered up his documents and took his leave.
An air of nervousness seemed to cling to him as he made a beeline for the exit, not once looking astray.
The door closed behind him and Gilbert stretched out his arms as if trying to relax.
Gilbert: Now, then, little rabbit.
Emma: ...So you'd noticed me after all.
Gilbert: Well that's a given.
(I'm sorry about the position I put you in, Roderic)
Once he'd beckoned me closer, he prompted me to climb onto his lap.
Emma: Pardon me.
Knowing that my only two choices were to either sit on his lap or be made to sit, I obediently sat down of my own accord.
And Gilbert wrapped his arms around my waist to support me.
Gilbert: You were throwing Roderic such a passionate look.
Emma: I was looking at you!?
Gilbert: He was positioned in the same line of sight.
Gilbert: As you know, you have a very troublesome man on your hands. So you're aware of what you should do at a time like this, right...?
Emma: ......
I placed my hands against Gilbert's cheeks and started kissing him.
I kissed him so much that I began to feel a faint warmth from his cold lips. But when I tried to pull away, Gilbert bit my lip, leaving behind a faint stinging.
(You're still jealous, aren't you?)
Emma: ...Did I interfere with your official duties?
Gilbert: *pouts* Roderic's the one who interfered. Showing up at this hour with documents for review.
Emma: That's probably because you were busy during the day.
Gilbert: *grins* Hehe... I showed you a lot of things I don't like about Obsidian today.
Emma: ...And I want to know about even more of them from now on.
Emma: Because I also want to be able to assist you.
Gilbert: Ahaha, that's reassuring.
(...There are still so many things I don't know about Gilbert and Obsidian...)
(I'm sure some of those things are intentionally being kept hidden from me)
(Things you can talk to Roderic about, but not to me...)
Once again I felt something in my heart falter.
But before I could convince myself that I was just imagining things, Gilbert's cold fingers caressed my cheek.
Gilbert: You're pulling such a long face even though your words are so reassuring,
Emma: ...I wasn't lying.
Gilbert: I know that. So what's eating at you?
(...What's eating at me?)
Emma: ...I can't really put it to words.
Emma: It's just... I'm envious of Roderic.
Emma: He's able to assist you more than me, and knows everything...
(......)
(Oh, this is...)
The moment I realized the true nature of my anxiety, Gilbert broke into a broad smile.
Gilbert: Wow... I'll have to give Roderic a bonus.
Emma: ...I see now. So this what you've been feeling all this time.
(Well no, compared to Gilbert, my 'jealousy' is to a much lesser degree...)
Emma: Hehe... What should I do? I'm really jealous here.
(We match now.)
I wrapped my arms around Gilbert's neck and brought our foreheads together.
Even though it should have been a negative feeling, I felt laughter build up inside me, perhaps because I was one step closer in understanding Gilbert.
Gilbert: Serious jealousy is nothing like that though, you know?
Emma: Are you saying there's more to come?
Gilbert: Yeah. Your jealousy's in the early chapters.
Gilbert: The more and more you come to love me, the less you'll be able to contain that kind of adorable jealousy.
Gilbert seemed truly pleased with my jealousy.
And it was precisely because I could sense that feeling that the anxiety in my heart turned into something endearing.
Emma: I'll work diligently then.
(Because I think being jealous is the most correct way to love Gilbert)
Gilbert: Hehe... I can't believe you've cheered up this much just from turning into a jealousy fiend.
Gilbert: Taming the conquering beast is difficult, isn't it? But it might be easy for you.
Gilbert: Because I'm so madly in love with you.
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a/n: I'm sorry for any errors! I mostly just clean up whatever the online translators spit out. Sometimes I get really lazy. Also, I haven't really done a full translation post like this in a while, so I just wanted to mention that I took the formatting and translation style from @/hotaru987 sensei!
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i wish i did not know the ache of love.
in my youth i heard rumours, stories, women driven to flame, men transforming into ice. but i still yearned for it. maybe it was because i wanted to be electrified by passion, maybe i wanted to be seen by the gaze of death. maybe i simply feared that a lack of love would hurt more than its presence.
that much is true, at least. for i have felt love, it has coursed through my veins and it burns. i nourish the emptiness inside my soul every day he is gone. there is a cavity in my heart, one only he could fill, so it shall remain hollow. but without that pain, he would become a mere memory, diluting into nothing more than air and bones. food for the vultures.
even then, i wish i did not need to know the ache of love.
михаиле, мій лю́бий, поверта́йся, до мені́. пий мої́ сльо́зи, коли́ бу́ду пи́ти ва́ші, і трима́й ме̏не в ва́ших рука́х, коли́ бу́ду трима́ти тебе́ в мої́х. якось, бу́демо спокі́йний ра́зом
#rtc#ride the cyclone#talia rtc#mischa bachinski#talischa rtc#rtc rp#the ukrainian is: 'mischa my darling come back to me. drink my tears as i will drink yours and hold me in your arms as i will hold you in#mine. one day we will be peaceful together'#okay so i used wiktionary and google translate for the ukrainian as well as trying to use other resources#i don't have the best grasp on how ukrainian sentences should be structured either so please let me know if i've made an error!!#i had to use a russian source for the cyrillic version of mischa's name#but all those letters are in both alphabets so i assumed it would be fine#and i added the -e for the vocative#but i didn't do that for 'my darling' bc wiktionary told me i didn't need to#also#can i just mention the audacity of google translate#because when i typed in 'my darling' it gave me the feminine version of the word#rather than fem and masc options (bc gendered language)#fortunately wiktionary clarified#but like#we as a society should be able to call men by sweet dramatic names fuck you#i really give talia a lot of imperatives huh#it's okay i love that for her#and then 'my tears' are accusative but ukrainian has both animate and inanimate accusatives which i personally am not familiar with#so i went with inanimate accusative 'my' because i didn't put a participle#i should really just learn ukrainian on fucking duolingo shouldn't i#for 'hold me in your arms' i used the locative bc of *in*#i've studied latin (why i use wiktionary) which has just the ablative rather than separated into loc. and instrumental#for hold i used the ukrainian wiktionary#but it was unclear as to whether a) it was russian or ukrainian and b) if i used the first person future or the infinitive
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I feel that Neuvillette would be the kind to know exactly which spots to hit even if you don't know each other that well at all😭😭
cw. skilled neuvi <3, fingering, fem! reader
neuvillette does it flawlessly, error free and masterful without breaking a sweat. when it comes to pleasuring you, he doesn't let you feel your sensations properly, he lets them crash down on your body, forces the potency of vibrations to tear you apart while he pumps his fingers into you.
you are so beautiful to him, always, doesn't matter if you're all pretty dolled-up on a romantic date or with drool hanging on your chin and arousal sticking on your thighs late at night, neuvillette needs to feel all of you but will not fuck you before he hasn't adequately prepared you yet.
ugh, your lips are just so close to him right now, slightly bitten and swollen due to how much he craved you tonight. they're always there where he needs them so badly— smearing wet kisses over his jawline while he moves his digits into your hole, his palm rubbing over your clit whenever he pushed them all the way inside.
you've always been sensitive there, that one spot where he had to be knuckles deep, so he could reach the sweet splotches that bristled, practically overflew with rich tingles— they shoot up your entire body whenever he rubbed them.
but the iudex knew you needed that little extra as well, it being when he immediately targets your clit the exact same time he thrusts his fingers up and curls them viciously, knowing you so well like the back of his hand as he messily digs the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit.
your neuvillette was so skilled with his fingers, he knows where to push and pull— in which particular motion he had to add additional strength just enough for you to squeal and rut your hips into his hand, so that the overturning pressure on your pussy would turn you hot from inside and out, writhing as you throb around his fingers.
you wanted to rub your clit so badly too, so you could add to your sensitivity being toyed with, although most importantly make yourself cum so neuvillette could just fuck you next.
"baby.." you sob when he lets out a breathy hiss as your tongue obscenely licks across his sharp jawline to his ear, "so...so close," you mutter before smirking at him, certainly becoming quite amused as you watch how his cheeks grow hot of embarrassment, of practically being told that he was doing a good job.
his smile was slow and easy, revealing a rarely seen dimple in his cheek, "i know, i know," he coos and scissors your cunt, "i can feel you, right there,"
neuvillette catches every crack in your voice, every pitchy whine of gratifying moans as he moves his digits flawlessly, grazes them all on your slicked walls until he has you cumming.
his arm had also presented the strength he put on your pussy by his veins sticking out, one after the other, the blood inside his body pumping frenziedly.
there was just something so additionally sensual in pleasuring his loved one— the sole person he worshipped with his entire body and mind. driven by his belief in true love, neuvillette was truly engulfed inside the beauty of your relationship.
©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact smut#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette smut#neuvillette x you#genshin x you#genshin impact x you
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Kicking out
Rhysand x reader
Summary: Reader tries to have a peaceful day without their partner hovering with overprotection, but destiny has other plans.
Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of body aches, Rhysand being an overly protective rooster. Ignore any biological errors; I've never been pregnant and have no background in any health-related field, so everything here is either from my imagination or a quick Google search.
Autor's Note: This is my first time posting here, and I'm anxious and very, very nervous (especially because it's the first time I've written in a long time). I don't know if I like this or not, but this idea has been lingering in my head for days. Maybe I'll do a part two, but I'm not sure. Please, I welcome any kind of feedback here! (but be careful with how you say it). I apologize if the grammar is... bad? English is not my first language, and I'm not fluent (much of this had help from AI for translation, so if something doesn't make sense or is placed incorrectly, please let me know so I can correct it).
It's the beginning of fall, all you wanted to do was sit on the expensive and cozy sofa decorating the House of Wind and read a soft and cliché romance book while sipping on a cup of hot coffee. Except, you couldn't consume caffeine for the sake of the baby growing in your belly. Still, you had the option to sit and read a book, but your large and exuberant belly prevented you from sitting comfortably for too long. Well, nothing a few pillows and a blanket couldn't solve. Okay then, you didn't have coffee or a comfortable position, but you could still read your book, right?
Well, no, you've been trying to do that since the early afternoon when you sent Rhysand to his office, asking him to work a bit in his own court instead of watching over you. In fact, he had been a mother hen since the beginning of the pregnancy, and that was just one of the excuses you gave to get rid of his overprotectiveness. But it was becoming a challenging mission to concentrate on reading. You're nearing the end of your pregnancy, which is exciting in part, with the anticipation of meeting your little one consuming you, but the discomfort of carrying a baby constantly kicking your ribs has proven quite persistent.
It's been more than five minutes since you were stuck on the same page, reading and rereading but unable to focus on the book, back pain and intermittent cramps stealing all your concentration. You were used to a slight discomfort in your back since the beginning of the second trimester, but today, in particular, it was more of a significant and noticeable discomfort. You sighed in frustration and decided that maybe eating something would help. Putting the book aside, you remove the blanket from over you and swing your legs out of the sofa, prepared for the struggle it would be to get up. Normally, Rhys would help you, but if he left the office long enough to realize something was bothering you, he would spend the rest of the day hovering over you, worried and concerned.
Breathless and almost sweating, you managed to get up. At this point, the only clothes that fit you were light fabric dresses, or what you were currently wearing: one of Rhys's sweatpants and a sweater stolen from his closet. Your partner started sharing half of his wardrobe when your beautiful, stylish, and beloved clothes no longer fit you—you cried for a whole hour after trying to put on one of your favorite pants, and Rhys almost cried too, not knowing how to comfort you.
Walking towards the kitchen, you almost laughed, remembering the various times when hormones provided you with uncontrollable tears and frightened your partner. In those moments, you felt slightly vindicated by his insistence on being present for every breath you took. It's not that you didn't love your partner and appreciate his concern; it's just that he didn't know how to balance it at certain times. As soon as you told him you were pregnant, he became an overprotective mother hen full-time, and it suffocated you a bit. Of course, you talked about it, and he promised to control himself, but if you made a different move, he was already on top of you, asking what was wrong and insisting that you needed to stay in bed.
Reaching the kitchen, you pause for a moment to catch your breath and lean your hands on your back while deciding what to eat. God, this belly was weighing more than usual. Deciding to make a big, hearty sandwich, you start gathering all the necessary ingredients from the cabinets and placing them on the counter.
You feel your partner gently pulling that thread connecting you two, and the next moment, he's entering the kitchen, a furrow between his eyebrows indicating that he's thinking, and the slight contraction in his mouth tells you he's worried. "Darling, you should be resting."
You roll your eyes and let a faint smile form on your lips as you reply, "I was resting, but then I got bored." You lean against the counter for a minute, then turn to grab a knife to cut the tomatoes. When you turn again, Rhys is in front of you, reaching out towards you and taking the knife. "If you wanted something to eat, you just had to ask." You pout at him, but he ignores it and turns to the counter, starting to cut the tomatoes. "I just wanted to do something for myself; you don't let me touch anything since you found out I'm pregnant."
You're beside him, staring at the tomatoes he cut, waiting for a response. He turns his face to you and plants a quick kiss on your forehead, grabbing the bread and saying, "Because the only thing I'll let my partner do while she's pregnant is to make this baby. That's consuming enough energy, and I don't want you to tire yourself out."
"Well, your partner may be making a baby, but she assures you she has enough energy to make her own sandwich."
He raises an eyebrow, and a shit-eating grin forms on his lips. Like she had enough energy to organize the baby's clothes last night? His voice fills your mind, the thread connecting you two vibrating with his amusement. Bastard.
I only slept because you decided to intervene and didn't let me do anything else.
"Darling, I only intervened because you were asleep." He starts putting each ingredient on the bread, and you decide to sit — not because you're tired, obviously — in front of him. You go around the counter as you respond, "Well, I don't remember... Argh." The sudden pain reverberating in your back and cramping that comes and goes cut your speech in half. Damn, you really hoped it wouldn't happen now.
Rhys is in front of you before you can even move, one hand on your belly and the other gently placed on your face, guiding your eyes to meet his. "What's wrong? Is it you? The baby? Panic fills his voice and shines in his beloved violet eyes. His mouth has that contraction again.
The only response you give is a negative nod, trying to catch your breath as the pain passes. He continues with his hands on you and doesn't seem satisfied with your non-verbal answer. I'm fine, the baby is fine. It must have been just another kick in my rib.
His right hand holds the one he placed on your face, and his lips try to form a reassuring smile, which is probably just a funny grimace at the moment. He kisses your forehead, and there's still concern on his face when he pulls away just enough to put both hands on your belly. His gaze alternates between your face and your belly; he still seems reluctant, so he asks again, "Are you sure? I can call Madja just to check, and..."
''Shh." You interrupt him, placing a finger on his lips. Your gaze softened, and now you're the one placing both hands on your partner's face, your thumb stroking his cheek." I said we're fine; it's nothing serious. The baby has been restless all day."
That seems to convince him enough because he agrees and holds your hands, bringing his face closer to yours and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. You pull away after a moment, this time with a complete smile when you playfully say, "Now, go finish my sandwich, or else this baby will start kicking for food." Rhysand laughs with your remark and turns to the counter, finishing your sandwich.
He starts putting away the ingredients again after placing the plate in front of you. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain? We could have asked Madja for something." He finishes putting away the last ingredient and turns to you again, only the counter separating him as he watches you take the first bite of the sandwich.
"Oh God, this is so good." You ignore his statement, too focused on savoring what might be the best sandwich of your life. He accepts your lack of response with a soft laugh and turns to the cabinets to grab a glass. "Do you want some juice?" you mumble a yes, with your mouth full of the sandwich, and wait for him to fill the glass. He has his back to you while rummaging through the cabinets.
Splash.
"What kind of juice do you want, dear? Because I think we only have orange or grape, but I can ask the House to make some other flavor." He turns to you, waiting for a response, but his face transforms when he sees your expression. "What? Is something wrong?"
Oh, well, this is going to be funny. You finish swallowing the sandwich, trying to formulate a word. He stays where he is, waiting for your response, frozen. But it's your next words that make him run towards you.
"I think my water just broke."
Another pang erupts in your back, and you realize that maybe it wasn't the baby that was restless. It was contractions.
And this baby is about to kick its way out of your belly.
#acotar#rhysand#fanfic#Rhysand x reader#rhysand acotar#rhys acotar#rhys x reader#pregnancy#x reader#pregnant reader#Soft#rhysand imagine#a court of thorns and roses
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I love the way you write possessive Aemond in your work. I love the idea of a possessive slightly unhinged Aemond wanting something/someone for himself. Especially because he’s is intelligent and cunning enough to do low key wild and manipulative things to make sure he gets to be with the person he wants. I’m so excited when I saw you tagged possessive Aemond in the last few writings you posted
— 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘.
gif credit.
© aemvnd 2022. do not plagiarize, translate, modify or post my content on any other platform.
author’s note: …here we fucking go again. yea, i’m writing a lil drabble about my slut of a husband, aemond. do i regret it? no. i hope you enjoy & please reblog, comment + leave ur feedback..! it really helps me stay motivated to keep writing. thank you, babes. ♡
warnings: minors dni. light smut. dark themes. fingering. kissing. female pronouns. possessive behavior. pet names. romance. fluff. any grammatical errors are my own -- in advance, i sincerely apologize.
word count: 790.
pairings: aemond targaryen x reader (f).
♡࿐ aemond targaryen has always thought of you as his.
his to protect, his to care for, his to love. ever since he met you, he surrounded himself around you, keeping you close by his side and never letting you out of his sight – unless absolutely necessary, and one of his most trusted guards had to be with you at all times.
even then, aemond would be on edge, not trusting anyone else to protect you like he could.
you thought he was charming.
aemond would look at you like you’re the center of the universe, like you held all of the stars.
aemond thinks it’s cute when you learn something new in philosophy, excitedly wanting to share the new information with him – even if he already knows it.
on lazy days, the prince will sit with you in his lap, one arm wrapped around your waist protectively–(while his other arm would be underneath the skirt of your dress, softly caressing the naked part of your smooth inner thighs with the tips of his fingers, teasingly)–and listen intently while you try and explain what you’ve just learned to him.
nonchalantly, he’d nod along, though would be just as focused on your plush lips moving as well as the words pouring out of them.
although, halfway through explaining, you’d turn around in his lap and claim his mouth against yours hungrily, while his fingers would slowly fuck your dripping cunt in the secluded library, not stopping until you’d come harshly on his lap.
there would be times where aemond would sneak into your chambers to spend time with you, specifically at the late hours of the night, wanting to be as close as physically possible to you. he loves you so much, he doesn’t ever want you to doubt his love for you.
during those private evenings, aemond would claim you as his – multiple times until you were a shaking, sobbing mess beneath him, in his arms.
he’d leave all sorts of love marks behind, kissing every inch of your skin he could reach, before thrusting his long, thick cock into your sweet cunt with both of your moans echoing off the walls.
you’d be terrified of somebody finding out about you two, but aemond would always reassure you – whispering sweet praises in your ear, calming you by kissing your neck and jaw as you’d let out the most irresistible moans for him as he continued fucking into you, uncaring of who heard you both.
…besides, if someone did manage to find out about the two of you, he’d kill them without a seconds notice.
aemond is very possessive over you, to the point that some of the lords and ladies started to take notice, though aemond paid them little attention.
some days, when the weather was warm and the sun was shining, aemond would bring you on long walks through the gardens, just the two of you.
there was a secret hidden place, surrounded by various trees and gorgeous flowers, and aemond would press your back up against one of the many thick trees, kissing you so passionately that you’d see stars.
“marry me,” aemond begged, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive neck, causing a whimper to escape your pretty lips, your breathing coming out in short, little gasps.
“mmm.. no,” you drawled, though your tone is teasing. “my father is suspicious of all the rumors about us, but he doesn’t ask. i feel like maybe he’s afraid of you,” you giggled, batting your eyelashes up at the handsome prince.
the prince smiles, pleased.
“besides,” you continued, your voice saddened and your heart breaking into a million little pieces. “my father.. he will arrange a marriage for me someday and i must–“
“that'll never happen,” aemond cuts you off, confidently. “if your father tries to take you away from me, he’ll suffer a horribly painful death.”
your heart flutters, your cheeks heating up and your head beginning to feel faint. “you're so sweet.” you whisper, smiling.
“only for you, my sweet girl.” the prince says, tenderly brushing his knuckles along your cheekbone, before bending down and capturing your lips in his once more – he tastes of honey and strawberries.
you moan, high pitched and so needy for him.
gods, he loved you.
aemond grinned, continuing his assault downwards your delicate neck. “marry me,” he asked once again, sounding impatient. you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly on his chin, making him squeeze your waist in equal affection.
“be my wife,” he says, tone commanding and sweet as sugar and death.
you sighed, pulling back just slightly so that your lips brushed softly over his, “i’d love nothing more.”
fin
feel free to send in requests / thots here.
#◜ 𝗇𝗈𝖺’𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 ˚✧ ꜝ#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fluff#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x reader#aemond imagine#aemond smut#aemond fluff#prince aemond#house of the dragon aemond#house of the dragon#hotd imagine#hotd x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd s1#hotd
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Little Bit of Food
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Y/N sees a TikTok video of couple where the women serves her partner more food on his plate than on hers. For research purposes, she just wants to see how he would react.
Warning: no translated Spanish, spelling and grammar errors, SHORT
A/N: since I am Mexican and Peruvian, the foods mentioned are typical foods that I grew up eating, I LOVE these foods so much, if any other Latine readers have suggestions of what dishes should be mentioned, comment below and I’ll tag you when I use them in another one shot. Also, sorry if it’s short, I don’t think I can build off a lot of “story material” over a TikTok trend, you know?
Y/N was watching TikTok and she saw a video that was interesting to her.
It was of a couple and a woman served her husband more food on his plate than on her own. The husband insisted that his wife should have more food and that he could eat something later.
Y/N knew that Henry was going to busy at the gym for a few hours so that gave her plenty of time to make one of Henry’s favorite meals that Y/N introduced him to, and that’s bistec a lo pobre. She bought sliced New York steaks from the Mexican grocery store (there’s always a butcher there), also some tortillas and 2 avocados to make guacamole or a sandwich later. When she went back to Henry’s house, she started cutting up tomatoes and onions so it would give the steak flavor. She put the onions and tomatoes aside in a bowl and got out the white rice in the pantry to wash the rice.
Half an hour later, Henry was came through the door sweaty and with a happy Kal.
“Ay hola, Kal, como te fue con tu papi, hm?” Y/N asked, kneeling to pet Kal.
“You call me papi?” Henry asked, drinking water from his sports bottle.
“When I’m talking about you to Kal, yes. Ain’t no way I’m calling you that though, it’s weird because I call my actual dad, papi. So don’t even think about it.” Y/N warned Henry as she washed her hands in the kitchen sink.
“Too late, I’m already thinking about, my lady.” Henry said, kissing her cheek as he hugged her from behind.
“Stop it. I’m making your favorite so please take a quick shower and then I’ll call you when it’s ready. Do you want one or two eggs?” Y/N asked.
“Two please, thanks love.” Henry said, kissing her lips before heading upstairs for his shower.
Y/N began sautéing the onions and tomatoes in the pan before adding in two pieces of steak for Henry, we’ll, one and a half, she cut a half piece for her plate. She got a plate out of the pantry to serve two ‘scoops’ of rice, adding the cooked steaks with tomatoes and onions on top of it, and preceded to fry two eggs on a different pan.
“Toro, food!” Y/N shouted and Kal calming running. “I said ‘toro’, not ‘oso’, you need to practice your Spanish, Kal.” Y/N said and placed Henry’s plate on his side of the table. Henry came running downstairs with his hair wet but he’s dressed in some shorts and a t-shirt.
“Thanks love, it looks amazing.” Henry said, kissing her.
“That’s good, now eat up, you’ve had a long workout.” Y/N said and that’s when she got a smaller plate, served herself a half scoop of rice, her half steak with 3 pieces of tomatoes and onions, and no eggs. When she sat down and said “let’s eat”, Henry looked at Y/N’s plate, then at his own.
“Darling, were you snacking while you were cooking again?” Henry asked, trying to find a reasonable explanation for the lack of food on his girlfriend’s plate.
“No, no, I didn’t snack at all. Eat before the eggs become cold.” Y/N pointed at him with her fork.
“Are you sick? You didn’t have to cook if you weren’t feeling well, love.” Henry said in a concerned voice.
“I’m fine Henry, I went to Fernando’s market today but the steak was too expensive so I only bought 2.” Y/N lied, she buys like half a pound of steak, there’s still 3 or 4 pieces in the fridge. Henry got up and grabbed his keys. “Where are you going?”
“To the market to buy more steak, what cut do you order a again? Med-ee-ya Libra de what?” Henry asked, opening the door,
“No no no, Henry, there’s no need for that, I can survive without bistec, please sit down and eat.” Y/N said, Henry closed the door, put down his keys, and sat back down.
“What about the eggs or the rice? I’m sure you could fill up on that, you told me you ate that when you were younger when there was nothing to eat.” Henry said.
“The last eggs were used on you, Toro. Now please eat before your food gets cold. You want something to drink? I got chicha (It’s a purple corn drink) if you don’t want soda.” Y/N said.
“Yeah, that’s fine, darling.” Henry said, when Y/N walked into the kitchen, Henry switched his plate for Y/N’s. When Y/N came back with chicha for Henry and soda for her, she saw what Henry did.
“Toro! You weren’t supposed to do that. You had a big workout, you’re bigger than me, you need all the protein you can get from this.” Y/N said, trying to switch the plates back but Henry refused.
“Nope, you cooked all this, you deserve to eat your delicious food. I could find something later.” Henry said,
“But you must be hungry, just eat it, I can make myself some potato quesadillas later.” Y/N said, attempting to get the plate back from Henry but he swatted her hand. “Toro!”
“I’m sorry love, but it’s for your good.” Henry said.
“I Don’t want you to be starving,” Y/N said,
“I won’t starve, my love. Watching you enjoy your food is filling enough for me.” Henry said and Y/N’s heart melted. She got out of her seat to sit on Henry’s lag, placing her hands on his neck to hug him.
“Amor, it’s a prank. There’s more steak in the fridge that I can fry up, there’s a lot of rice on the stove and plenty of eggs. Now please eat while I go serve myself more food.” Y/N said getting off him and grabbing her plate to do exactly that.
“You scared me, love. I was about to head over to the market…where is it by the way?” Henry asked,
“Haha, i can’t even tell you, I just know how to get there.” Y/N said, placing her steak in the pan and she watched Henry eat his meal.
“Delicious! This might even be better than your bistec empanado, did I pronounce that right?” Henry asked,
“Yes you did, Toro, but bistec empanado with sopita aguada is comfort food, along with quesadilla de papas, which I will be making tomorrow, I’ve been craving it,” Y/N said.
“That sounds so good, I have to make sure I work out even more. When I made you my girlfriend, I had no idea you would try to fatten me up.” Henry said and Y/N gasped, flipping the steak.
“I would never, how dare you accuse me. I’m gonna make flan for my friend’s birthday on Saturday so I’m gonna make another one just for us.” Y/N said and that made Henry laugh.
“I love your flan, darling. Your cooking skills put mine to shame.” Henry said. Y/N placed her steak on her place, serving more rice, and began frying an egg.
“I was born with that sazón, Toro.” Y/N said teasingly. She finished frying the egg, served it on her plate, and went to sit down. “Better?” Y/n asked, showing Henry her plate.
“Much better, my lady.” Henry said, kissing her. Kal barked. “Yes bear, you can have some steak too.” Henry said,
The End
Taglist: @warriormirkwood
#hispanic reader#latina#hispanic#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill#henry cavil x y/n#henry cavill fic#henry cavill fanfiction
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Nice and Tight
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader x Chris Evans
Word Count: 1.6K.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT, Explicit description of graphic sex. Read at your own risk. Threesome, Praise kink, Spit roasting, double penetration, anal sex and play, allusions to oral sex (f receiving), Daddy kink, Sir kink, allusions to Dom/ sub dynamics, voice kink if you squint, dirty talk, size kink, competition but also compersion. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N: This is in response to an ask about the best kink. I couldn’t pick just one. Part four of The Fit and the Feel Series. Let me know if you liked it by interacting: like, comment and reblog!
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
This night wasn’t turning out the way you thought it would, and this conversation was taking quite the different direction.
“I really think that we should take that drive up to Box Hill this weekend. We can get some fresh air, exercise, and continue this adventure on top of the knoll.”
Henry looked down at you and winked.
“What do you think, Dove?”
Henry responded to your silence with a frown and a slight tap on your jaw. You looked up into the twinkle of his cerulean eyes.
“Don’t be rude.”
Your eyes welled up with tears and you gulped, and your body clenched in response.
“Ah….shitttttt, Baby Doll. Fuck. So good.”
Chris groaned, finally joining the conversation.
“You have her mouth full, Cavill; give her a bit of a break. She’s a good fucking girl entertaining us both like this. So good and gotdamn tight.”
Chris was filling your ass full of his cock as you sucked Henry off. This is what you asked for. Your tears were the result of trying to breathe around Henry’s huge member as Chris fucked you slowly and steadily from behind.
The pull and the drag of Chris’s cock against your delicate walls was everything as he carefully took you apart and Henry got you back together.
You loved exactly where you were, between these two gorgeous men, and anywhere they wanted to take you to do this again was alright with you. They were unexpectedly tender and attentive, doing exactly what you requested. You weren’t mad. At all.
They were being so nice and yet so nasty at the same time.
You tried to hum an affirmative ‘Yes, Sir,’ as a response around Henry’s girth, causing his hips to stutter, and then surge forward, impaling himself further down your windpipe.
“Bloody hell, Dove. That mouth is so good. Throat so fucking snug.”
He reached down, encircled your neck with one hand to feel the bulge of himself in your tight column. He slowly pulled out and watched you cough and splutter when you took in air again.
“So lovely with your face like this…”
Henry admired you as Chris continued his débauched act behind you. You clenched again at the praise and Chris’s stroke. Your eyes glazed over with pleasure as Henry’s other hand lightly slapped and pinched your nipples, eliciting pornographic gasps and groans from you.
“Sound so gotdamn… fuck Baby Doll. Gonna make me fill your ass…”
Your eyes rolled back at the thought. Although you had prepared all day for this moment, you couldn't believe that you were actually here, paid homage to by two of the most attractive men in the world.
“And you’re absolutely gorgeous with your face all fucked out.”
You smiled and Henry gave you a filthy kiss, then lifted you carefully by your arms as he moved underneath you and between your legs.
You shuddered and moaned as his hairy body slid underneath yours, the stimulation almost too much.
Chris stilled and throbbed as Henry looked deep into your eyes and nodded, placing his hands on your waist as Chris’s hands on your hips guided you onto Henry’s cock.
“Now be a good girl, Baby Doll, and take both of us.”
“Yessssss!”
Your plaintive cry made both men clench their jaws in efforts to hold back from tearing you apart. Instead, they were oh so careful. Henry’s hand positioned himself just so as to allow you to sink onto him while keeping Chris inside you.
“Holyyyyyyy…”
Chris swore and dropped his head as your tight canal became even tighter with the intrusion of Henry on the other side of the thin bit of tissue of your perineum. He tenderly kissed
your spine as they both let you set the pace of your ruin.
You buried your face in Henry’s curls as he looked down to see the phenomenon of you three joining together. You were in nirvana as they became fully seated inside you.
When Henry looked back into your eyes, his were full of admiration.
“You are such a wonder, Dove.”
Remarkable.”
“Ohhhhhh!”
You clenched around both of them and they groaned, but stayed still as you started to move.
Beginning to rock back and forth between them, you felt the pounding of their engorged members stretching you out.
“P-please Daddy. Sir. Oh! Please move. Use me. Fill up my holes. Please please please.”
You started begging wantonly and Henry’s look changed as his eyes dilated. He took hold of your chin as Chris gripped your shoulders from behind.
“You sure that’s what you want?”
His voice was commanding, deep and smooth, like Cap.
“Y-y-yes. Please!”
“You don’t have to beg Baby Doll.” Chris slapped your ass.
“But damn if it isn’t ruining me. Keep up if you can Cavill.”
Chris pulled you up and away from Henry’s kisses, stretching your torso and giving access to your breasts to the Englishman as the Bostonian held your arms behind your back.
“Fuck you, Christopher Robin. You keep up with me.”
“No. Fuck me. Use me. I want all your cum. Both of you. I want it all.”
You felt like a queen.
“So be it.”
Henry responded with a broken voice that nearly broke you. The eye contact alone was so intimate.
Chris started going harder and Henry
matched his relentless pace, not brutal but insistent.
Soon they established a sinful rhythm that had you trembling between them. When one slid in to the hilt and the other slid out to the tip, causing your body to open and clench simultaneously.
Two sets of hands were everywhere all over you and you had one on Chris’s ass and one on Henry’s chest, feeling their sweat soaked skin and receiving surprisingly tender kisses and sweet praises from their lips. They were wrapped around you and throbbing inside you.
It was like you were one.
“Give us what we need, Dove. I can’t hold it much longer.”
Henry’s pleading eyes did something to your heart.
Chris was licking the sweat that slid down your neck. Then his earnest voice started begging, making your heart rate rise even higher.
“Yes. Please Baby Doll, you haven’t cum since we were eating you out. ‘S’been too long.”
You chuckled, because that was just a few minutes ago, but your laugh got caught in your throat as you saw Henry’s eyes shift behind you. Then, in tandem, Henry grabbed your ass to spread it wider and Chris reached between you and Henry to find your clit. It didn’t take long before you were cumming multiple times, screaming like a banshee, and not sure where one orgasm began and the other ended.
“Oh so beautiful Dove, yessss. Give.”
You took in Henry’s blissed out face and turned to give Chris a lewd kiss, sucking his tongue as Henry’s hands roamed your body and his eyes took in the scene. He was speechless as he watched and listened and felt.
“Shit, Baby Doll. You’re a marvel. S-s-so fucking hot.”
Chris spoke, groaning his praise into your ear, as he emptied his hot load inside you then held you as he slowly softened. He gently pulled out as you continued to ride Henry.
You whimpered and fell forward on Henry’s chest, trembling from the sensations.
“Careful now. Keep my cum inside you.”
Chris was marveling at your stretched out hole, plugging you with his fingers as you slid on Henry’s cock.
“Yes, Daddy.”
You made out with Chris as Henry watched, but then called your attention to him.
“Gods, Dove. This cunt is so magnificent. You. Are. Indeed. Magic.”
You sat up again, regal on the throne of Henry’s cock. You started to ride, feet up on the bed to aid your movement.
“Heavens…Dove...!”
“That’s it, Baby Doll. Rock his world. So fucking sexy.”
Chris’s fingers gently circled the rim of your wrecked anterior hole as Henry ravaged your cunt. The sensations were everything. The sights, the sounds, the smell of your sex with these two was a heady drug.
You could become addicted.
The sight of Henry in ecstasy, head thrown back and moth open whole Chris cooed on your ear was enough to send you over the edge again.
You bathed all three of you in the results of the most intense orgasm you’d ever had when you felt Henry’s warm spend wash over your walls.
“Fuck. Look at that.”
Chris’s eyes were glued to you.
“Your body is amazing, Baby Doll.”
His sky blue eyes were full of awe.
You collapsed on top of Henry again and Chris left you wrapped in the burly man’s arms. You heard the shower start in the bathroom as Henry kissed the top of your head.
“I’m in trouble, Dove. I’m afraid I’m hopelessly lost to this feeling…”
This tenderness was unexpected. You expected a night of rough domination, but received worship instead.
Before you could respond, Chris pulled you away from Henry, and carried you bridal style into the bath.
You wrapped your arms around Chris’s neck and burrowed your face into it. You didn’t want reality to intrude.
“I never thought that sharing you would finally make me fall…”
You let what Chris said sink in and walked into the shower when he put you down, not looking at him as you immersed yourself under the strong, hot spray of water. You didn’t think, just let the warm water wash over you and bring you back to earth.
You felt proximity and heat, then opened your eyes to see two sets of earnest blue eyes gazing at you in adoration.
Oh shit.
“We’ll give you anything you want Baby Doll.”
Chris’s voice was deep and soothing.
“Anything. What do you want of us, Dove? More sex, or something…more…?”
You looked from one man to the other and reached for them. Their hands were on you again, threatening ecstasy as their bodies awakened.
No, this night didn’t turn out the way you thought it would.
The question was, what were you going to do about it?
What do you think? Is reader more partial to one of these beautiful men or the other? Or is she down for both? 🤔
Let me know!
#DJ’s No No November#chris evans#ask dj#chris evans smut#chris evans imagine#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x black reader#chris evans x reader#henry cavill x female reader#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill x you#henry cavill smut#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill#henry cavill rpf#Chris evans x reader x Henry cavill#Henry cavill x reader x Chris Evans#the fit and the feel series#chris evans rpf
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11:19PM
•pairing: jungkook x f!reader; established relationship
• waring: fluff (to leave you with diabetes) jungkook is silly, you love his silly way, alcohol consumption (brief), jealous!jungkook (if you squint) a very hard attempt at humor
• word count: 475 (contains errors!)
Opening the door to the establishment, the two of you can't help but let out another laugh remembering minutes earlier at karaoke when some of your friends were so drunk they didn't know anymore what were singing
The breath of fresh air passing through you and jungkook makes the mood even more pleasant and serves as an excuse for your boyfriend to become even more attached to you. Why, this is not a complaint.
"Don't you think we should go back there and help? Hoseok looked kind of bad after so much soju" you say, feeling a hand intertwine in yours and being directed to the pocket of jungkook's jacket.
"Nah, he'll be fine. The others are still there to take care of him and yoongi won't let anything happen" your boyfriend says quietly "I think we should watch the street performances"
"Wait, right now?"
"Yeah, why not? Let's go" that's enough to feel jungkook pull you towards the nearby park.
The truth is that you two are in the center of the city, in the part where the fun is, where the food markets are and of course the karaoke where you and your friends were.
Turns out jungkook's imperative part doesn't let him stay in one place, what was supposed to be just a night of singing and going home has now turned into a mission to find someone performing. Luckily, it's not difficult.
From afar, you can already hear the music coming from the speakers and some groups of people standing in a circle so they can appreciate the art. Watching new talents can also be fun.
"That guy dances well" jungkook says, putting you in front and hugging you from behind. "Can you see?"
"Yes, but not when it goes right" It had a lot more people than you'd expect for a Wednesday night.
"Good, he also seems to be very handsome. I wouldn't want you to fall in love with him" you can't help but laugh at your boyfriend's line. That would never happen.
"I don't know, he could take me dancing with him and I would be in love" With a shrug and a chuckle, you turn to see the disgusted face and a pout forming on Jungkook's face.
"Oh come on, he wouldn't be like me"
He's right, he couldn't. Nobody could.
"Aww my baby is jealous" squeezing his cheeks is enough to get a laugh out of his reaction, leaving you and him warm inside. "I love you kook"
You love him so much
Jungkook's gaze softens, they always say that Jungkook carries the entire galaxy in his eyes. "I love you too"
He loves you so much
"So does that mean you won't dump me for the handsome dancer?" jungkook says and you bite your lip holding back the loudest laugh you could muster.
• this is an original work by @elitekook, please do not copy, translate or anything like that :)
#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook drabble#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#jungkook recs#jungkook reaction#jungkook x female reader#jungkook jeon
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The Traces He Left Behind
Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Synopsis: You had never expected the dog tags to be so heavy, but, now, as they sit in your hands they’re just about the heaviest object you’ve ever held. M.I.A doesn’t mean John’s dead...but it might as well.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: Grief, mentions of death, blood, a small amount of gore, angst, fluff (eventually), allusions to intimacy, mention of nakedness
A/N: The number of people who thirst over this man gives me strength. Tell me if you find any errors cuz I barely edited this.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
People don’t disappear – they leave traces, clues, marks on the walls, or black scuffs on the floors. Hell, people leave something behind even if you can’t see it.
But the dog tags in your hands give you nothing besides memories, and memories only leave heartbreak; burning in your lungs like you took a bullet there that digs between the soft tissues, spewing blood over the carpet. Heartbreak can’t help you bring him back.
John Price left you with nothing but his dog tags and try as you might, you can’t help but hate him for it.
No evidence.
No trace.
And no body to be buried.
They couldn’t fucking find him.
“This was all I could find,” Gaz whispered, breathless, when he stood on your doorstep a week and a half ago, watching the smile on your face freeze – as if, at that moment, you were caught in a time-loop of opening that front door over and over again to his pained face. You stared at him like you didn’t know him, and, so, he continued, the dog tags in the small black velvet box shaking in his grip as he opened the top with a muffled clack, “I-I’m so sorry, Love.”
I’m so sorry.
That was all they could say, but it didn’t mean shit. That couldn’t have been all that was left. Pieces of metal on a ball chain? Flecks of blood and dirt over the imprinted words and numbers? No. No. No.
Your eyes had withered as they traveled down Gaz’s ceremonial uniform, the brown color with the various medals glinting in the afternoon light of autumn. But the chill of the air never reached you, and all you could think about as your eyes landed, finally, on those damaged dog tags was that John would have hated all the hassle that Gaz had gone through.
He would have snorted in that way only he could, cheeks jerking up as his eyes slid to the side for a moment; always thinking. John's feet would shuffle, and after a moment, he would cross his arms and say something like, ‘putting on the chest candy for me, Garrick?’
You almost heard him say it, his breath whispering the tendrils of your hair near your ears and his comforting presence – like a large Saint Bernard Dog just behind you. You even think you turned around and checked, because one moment you were at the door, and the next Gaz was walking you back into the living room of John’s London home, his arms holding you up. You hadn't noticed, but your legs had given out and you would have hit the floor hard if Gaz hadn’t snatched you up when he did.
The Captain had always let you stay at his place when he was off on deployment – he said you made it more of a home than he ever could, seeing as he was gone all the time. You had only moved in permanently two months ago.
At the end of it, Gaz had placed the velvet box in your hands as you wailed on the couch, agony hitting off the walls and ceiling like a bouncy castle; gripping your face so tight the skin broke. The sound of the Tv in the background just makes it worse. It was playing re-runs of some old black-and-white film, a western that John loved to watch. You always played them so it felt like your boyfriend was still in the house, waiting just behind a thin wall for you to come and annoy him about how you hated these movies.
But you had never hated them more than in that instance.
Gaz utters your name, “...Speak to me, please. Tell me to fuck off or-or something!” All you did was bring the box to your chest and drag Gaz into a tight hug across the cushions, not caring about the uniform or how he shook as he wrapped his hands back around you, rubbing your back.
But you felt the tears on top of your head just as easily as you heard your own stain the fabric of the couch.
The dog tags clinked as they connected, and from under Gaz’s firm grip, you stared down at them before their image got too blurry and you had to blink away the tears again. Damaged metal – that’s all that was left.
You both stayed like that for hours, long after the sun had set, but your eyes never strayed from the tags and in your mind, you told yourself that M.I.A didn’t mean dead. But the sinking feeling in your chest told you it might as well.
Have faith in him, You sniffle, fingering the tags, caressing the imprints of ‘Price, Jonathan’ as your body shakes.
A week and a half had gone by like a nightmare, slow and horrible, and with every second of every minute of every hour, the weight on your chest had gotten worse. It wasn’t like when John lay a top of you, body pressing down in a deep slumber. Most days you didn’t leave the bed – it smelled too much of John you told yourself, but knew it was more than that. You had lost the drive.
Digging your face deeper into the old pillow – John’s pillow that you had begged him to replace as it was as flat as a pancake – your hands clench onto the dog tags from where they lay on the mattress, the cold metal digging into your palm. It was a painful reminder but one you knew you could never get rid of.
In that state of half-consciousness, you liked to imagine that the plain green comforter around your waist wasn’t fabric at all – that the caressing weight was strong arms instead, dragging you backward until you met a firm chest; you could fall back to sleep with the knowledge that the breath on the back of your neck didn’t belong to the fan across the room but was actually John and his nearly silent snores. He always kept you right by him when he was sleeping; hated when he woke up and you were gone, either finding you in the kitchen making a drink to help you sleep or doing other activities like that. You remember vividly when John had woken from a nightmare and you were making a midnight snack in the kitchen.
His panicked breathing had told you first that something was wrong, and when you turned around – there he was, standing at the entrance to the kitchen with a hand grasping the door frame so tight his knuckles were white and shaking. He looked at you like he had feared for your life, and the toast you were about to bring to your mouth had frozen in your grip, peanut butter dripping off the side.
“John?” You had whispered, placing the carb down with a thunk onto the plate, “are you alright, Love? What happened?”
That was the first time you had seen John cry.
Before you knew it, you were rushing over to him and wrapping him in your hold. He hugged you so tightly that night you were only slightly concerned your ribs might snap. Ever since then, with the reminder of his tears dripping into your hair living in your brain, you made a point to stave off the nighttime adventures, instead listening to John’s heartbeat to put you back to sleep.
You couldn’t sleep without him now; that was a fact. A torturous, downright evil, fact.
John had ruined you for anyone else besides him.
Tears slipped from your half-lidded eyes as the memory slipped away from you; turning your head farther into the pillow, you choked on the sob in your throat as the morning light attacked your eyes. You wonder if anyone has ever died from a broken heart before and if you’ll be the first.
But I can’t die until John’s body’s found, You think with a muffled gasp, body curling into itself, I can’t go without knowing.
The boys had come to visit when they were free, all of them had keys and weren’t afraid to use them. They were worried about you, is all, so you entertained the unannounced visits with the same blank look that now lived on your face constantly. Gaz came the most as you were the closest to him – he meant good, you knew that, and he had cared about his Captain immensely when he was…when he was…
He felt an obligation to you and carried a large amount of guilt with him.
Gaz liked to prod, trying to convince you to get out of bed, promising the weather was nice for a walk, on and on. But the world didn’t smell like John, and the faces you would have looked at wouldn’t have his beard or wear that stupid bucket hat or beanie and snort at your bad jokes. You had no drive to leave the house. What was the point?
Soap was next, the jokester trying to lighten the mood at any instance. He tried to make you talk about John, saying little quips, but you never spoke a peep beyond your sniffles. You didn’t want to talk about your boyfriend, the voices in the back of your head talked about him too much already; to the point where it became a chore to think about anything else. At the very least Soap wanted you to smile once every time he visited – he had told you as much. But he left in defeat every time, and although his loyalty was arguably one of his largest qualities, his visits dwindled just like the light in his eyes. He was taking it hard.
Yesterday, though, was different.
Simon had come to the house for the first time. He sat in the plush chair in the corner and read aloud to you from a random book on your bookshelf, not making any comment unless the character's actions were surprisingly dumb or pointless. He never pried like Soap, and never prodded like Gaz. He was just there, and, perhaps, that was what you liked the most about him. When you had asked him to read just one more chapter to you from one of John’s favorite books, Simon had looked up and paused when he caught your eyes, his own minutely widening above the cloth covering the lower half of his face.
It wasn’t so often that eyes like his own were staring back at him.
He had re-opened the book and read until your eyelids had slipped shut, and when you woke up, he was making breakfast in the kitchen.
The smell of burning waffles prompts you to raise your head and look at the ajar door. Burning waffle mix wasn’t a pleasant smell, and your nose twitched in disgust.
You got to your feet and shuffled down the hallways, dragging the comforter with you and listening to it ruffle over the floor as the clanking of pots and pans made your ears perk. Pointedly not looking at the pictures on the walls, you tug the dog tags over your head, caressing the metal before letting the weight hit your chest with a quiet thunk as they connect with your pajama top.
Your bare feet pad to the kitchen entrance and briefly you remember a tight hug before the memory is shoved down as you shake the glassiness of your eyes away. You blink at the scene in your kitchen and a bit of awareness lights in your orbs.
“Are you trying to burn my house down, Simon,” You croak, no doubt looking like the dead walking, “Or are you just really bad at cooking?”
The man was covered in flour, his black clothes layered in it so much so that your eyebrow raised, amusement nearly making you scoff. You shuffled to the island and pulled out a stool with curiosity and concern for the well-being of the kitchen. Hopping up, you watched the trained killer as he turned to you, the waffle maker behind him covered in pale dough.
“Never made waffles before,” He has the decency to look embarrassed, at least, “Didn’t think it would be this hard.”
“You’ve never made waffles?” You cross your arms on the island counter, moving to rest your chin on them before closing your eyes for a moment. For a second you had forgotten that John was dead and just like before the weight was back.
“This was the only good one,” Simon’s voice snaps you back, and your open your eyes slowly. A plate slid across the counter, a slightly burnt waffle sitting drowned under syrup with a fork set on the side. You stare at it for a moment.
“Would it hurt your feeling if I didn’t eat it?” You mumble, peering up from your makeshift headrest.
Simon’s arms were behind him resting on the back counter as milk dripped to the floor, and a sigh built in his chest making his sweatshirt rise before his eyes blinked at yours.
“Yes.” He turned his back and began collecting ingredients, trying to clean up – apparently he had accepted defeat. Your eyes shifted to the plate ahead of you.
“Fine,” You sigh, sitting up and dragging the plate closer, and pick up the fork with weak fingers before using the utensil as a knife and dissecting the food.
Your mouth waters as you shove a piece into your mouth, chewing for a little bit before stopping. You look slowly at Simon, cheeks full, and you blank when you find him watching you closely.
“Did you forget the sugar?” You watch the man’s body tense, eyes darting to his phone on the counter where he was most likely using an online recipe before snapping back to you.
Pressure builds in your chest as you swallow the inedible waffle and feel it travel down your throat. A quick moment later you’re slapping a hand over your mouth and stifling the small laugh that echoes through the silent kitchen. You swore you see Simon’s shoulders jerk proudly for a moment before he turns his head away to continue cleaning.
Around your neck, the dog tags clink together and with your free hand, you grasp them lightly.
You felt just a little bit better, even if it was at the famous ‘Ghost’s’ expense. But who wouldn’t laugh at someone forgetting to put sugar in waffles?
—
No one knows who shot down the helicopter – they say it was the Russians, but who could really be sure? Task Force 141 had so many enemies it could practically be anyone on their list and they could be none the wiser until the forensic team got their job done.
All that John knew was that he woke up in the dirt, the press of metal over his chest to the point where he knew some of his ribs were cracked and that the flames were getting closer to the fuel tank. The annoyance at the blurriness of his eyes was thrown to the side as blood pumped through his veins, some even leaking out from various wounds he has yet to notice.
Throwing his arms out, his muscles straining behind his flame-licked shirt and combat vest, John’s hands find holds on the beam before throwing all his weight into it, desperation and adrenaline giving him all the strength he needs. Violent coughs fall from his lips as the smoke travels up his nose, making it hard to breathe. The shriek of the shifting metal encompasses John’s ears, so it was only common sense he couldn’t hear the screams on the opposite side of the downed helicopter.
“Captain?!” Gaz’s voice was lost behind the wall of fire and grinding earth, “Price, answer me! John!”
John grits his teeth, a growl flying from his lips as he hucks the beam farther down his body, just enough to shimmy his way out with a groan at the ache of his lower body.
“Fuck,” He grunts.
It was a miracle his spine wasn't broken. John’s blue eyes blink furiously as they try to dispel the ash from the corners, instinctual tears tracking down his face as his hands get skinned on the rocks. The smell of gasoline spurs him on, as well as the visible bodies of the other men in the Helicopter littering the remains of the cockpit.
One would think at the only thing on his mind was survival – getting out of this metal oven before it blew to find his men and regroup, asses the damage before calling Laswell for an Evac – but John was haunted by only one thought as his fingertips bled over the ground. He dragged himself on.
I have to get home to her.
His body twists, and in his haste, the glinting dog tags on the ground are missed because of a wave of smoke as they sit, waiting, with their clasp noticeably broken.
John’s shoulder forces away a large sheet of metal, ribs screaming inside of him, but the pain had never stopped him before and it wouldn’t now. The light of the sun greets him, and he only manages to drag himself a few feet away before the entire helicopter explodes in a flash of fire and death, throwing his body forward until it careens over the edge of a large hill, dirt and dust spraying where his body rolls down. At the bottom, John feels himself connect with something solid, and everything goes black in a savage wave of agony.
His last thoughts are of you. They always would be.
—
“I need you to come with me,” Gaz’s voice greets you when you open the front door, your hoodie and jeans not helping keep out the chill of the air as a breeze flows through the door.
“Huh?” You frown, itching at your neck and unintentionally jingling John’s dog tags, “You show up for the first time in a month and that’s the first thing out of your mouth? How about a ‘hello’ or ‘how are you?’”
Gaz’s face tightens, and his face turns to the side for a moment. You sigh deeply.
“I’m not angry, just sad you didn’t tell me you and the others were going on another deployment. I would have given you all send-offs if you’d just told me.”
“We weren't on another deployment,” Gaz admits, shaking his head. You blink before looking him over.
“Then why are you in your work uniform?” The combat vest and other gear were cause for confusion, and you briefly wonder what Gaz and the boys are up to if not a quick stop by the house.
“When I found out I came here as quickly as possible. But you have to come with me, right now.”
“I-” You sputter, not used to seeing the man ahead of you so serious, “Alright…Let me just get my shoes.”
“Make it quick. For your own sake.”
Tugging on your boots, on the way out you grab your purse and one of John’s black beanies, tugging it over your head before you lock the front door and jog your way to Gaz’s car in the street. You see the man tapping the steering wheel through the window, shadow vibrating with untamed energy.
What the hell is up with him?
The last month has been horrible, especially with the radio silence from the boys. You had assumed they were off somewhere on a mission, but to hear they had been in London the entire time? That just rubbed you the wrong way. Fortunately, things had gradually turned around after Simon’s visit and waffle fiasco a while ago, so their constant check-ups weren’t needed as much as they were wanted.
You don’t even exactly know what happened, but even on your worst days, you had promised yourself not to fall back into the deep pit you were in before. Though, most of the time you never left the house and woke up crying in the middle of the night; gasping for breath, there were good times too. Even if most of them involved remembering activities you used to do with John.
You open the passenger door and slip inside Gaz’s car, clicking the seatbelt over yourself and sending a glance to the man beside you. Gaz doesn’t comment if he feels you staring, just puts his foot on the gas and begins driving down the quiet street. Sensing you wouldn’t get any answers, your body twists so you can look out the window, gazing out and watching houses and people fly past. Your eyes linger on the happy couples in their hats and scarves for longer than normal, and you only rip your eyes away when they become dots in the side mirror.
Feeling Gaz looking at you makes it worse.
Your heart hardens, and you suck in a deep breath, leaning back to rest on the chair. With your eyes drifting shut, you let the bumpiness of the road lull you into a thin slumber. Naps are really all you’ve been able to take lately, and you fall into one quickly as the bags under your eyes burn.
A hand shaking your shoulder wakes you, and a quiet, “Sorry, but you’re gonna wanna see this, Love,” makes its way into your ear. You groan, unclipping the buckle before rubbing your eyes.
“Gaz, I hope you know what you’re doing,” You grumble, looking out and blinking to focus your gaze, “Where are we?” You set out of the car, stumbling before Gaz steadies you with a firm hand on your arm.
“Base,” The man says simply. That wakes you up.
“What?” You gasp, looking around a parking garage where multiple other cars are parked, concrete pillars, and an ascending slope up to large metal doors showing you that you were underground. You had never been inside the base before – sure you had been in specific areas where you could greet John when he returned to London, but you were never allowed in the main building before, “Why are we here?”
You turn to Gaz, but find the man already pulling your arm forward towards the glass entrance doors, fiddling with his front vest pocket. A squeak escapes your lips.
When he takes out his name card and places it on the door reader, he turns and faces you, and a beep sounds behind him.
“I need you to just follow me as closely as you can,” Gaz mutters, gripping both of your shoulders and giving you a hesitant but soft smile, “Alright? I promise all of this is important. Definitely going to be worth it.”
“Well,” You snort, raising an eyebrow, “I’d hope it would be important, you just dragged me halfway through the city. You owe me supper for all of this, Garrick.”
Gaz laughs, turning and opening the door, and keeps it ajar for you to slip through.
“You’ll have to put a raincheck on that – you’re not going to want supper with me tonight.”
You make a questioning noise in the back of your throat, but Gaz just slips past you, looking over his shoulder and shaking his head.
“You’ll see. I can’t tell you all of my secrets.” The smirk on his face makes you roll your eyes, following after him like a lost puppy as you take corner after corner. This place was like a labyrinth.
People watch you as you walk past, and the widening of their eyes gives you an idea of how much they know about you and your deceased boyfriend.
John Price left behind quite the impression, you think to yourself as a group of people coming your way turn in and begin to whisper amongst themselves, side-eyeing you, but I wish he hadn’t had to leave anything behind. Least of all me.
The door catches your attention first, and Gaz hesitates outside of it as the sounds of arguing echo out from under the crack. He holds a finger to his lips and keeps a hand on the doorknob. His brown eyes stay on your face.
“You can’t leave Base, alright!” That was Soap’s voice, sounding much more serious than you were used to, “You need to stay here until you get cleared by--”
“You tell me one more time that I can’t leave until I’m cleared by the Doctor,” Wait a second, “I’ll ring your Muppet neck. I’m going to see her, let the whole bloody base try and fucking stop me.”
The deep voice had a growl staining the words, agitation so familiar it drips off the tone like water.
“John,” You mutter, heart beginning to beat faster in your chest. Without a second thought, you shove Gaz’s arm aside and barge your way into the room, ignoring Gaz’s playful, ‘hey, careful now.’
The door slams against the wall and your feet skid into a white-floored room, the bright fluorescent lights ahead buzzing. Soap and Ghost are both there, the latter trying to force the man you thought was dead back into the hospital bed while the other leans back against the far wall.
Everyone freezes and Soap looks like a deer in headlights with his hand wrapped around John's upper arm, straining to hold the once rampaging man back. But it’s not like you notice, you’re only looking at the man who ruined your life.
John Price looks worse for wear. Even with the hospital gown over his body, you can see the bulge of tightly wrapped bandages around his torso and legs – his arms are connected to medical machines, a needle in his right palm giving him fluids from a drip IV. Oh, but it’s him. That’s your John.
Ruin my life, You think to yourself, Ruin it over and over again if it means you’ll always be able to come back into my arms.
He looks at you with a surprised softness, his blue eyes never wavering from your body as he takes you in with a deep breath. The brown beard on his face is longer than you remember, as well as his hair, and the red marks over the left side of his face say that many of his wounds are old, but have not healed fully. Where had he been? Gone for more than a month and labeled missing in action and he just shows up, black and blue and wrapped like a mummy?
Your thoughts were running even faster than your heart and all you do is stand there and stare at John like he was a specter as the others watched with bated breath. You could hear Gaz in the doorway shuffle on his feet. But you weren't the only person shell-shocked – John still stared at you as well, his eyes running wildly until they land on the dog tags around your neck.
The great Captain’s shoulders deflate, and his eyebrows draw in as blue flickers back to your face. “Oh, Sweetheart…”
That was all it took for you to launch yourself into his arms, jerking forward into his chest with sobs leaving your lips like you had lost him again and not just gained him back by some miracle. John grunts under you, and Soap releases his shoulder with a huff.
“I damn well told you ya’ couldn’t leave. You listen to me as well as Ghost does, Sir.”
Ghost huffs, shoving himself off the wall and taking a few steps forward, “Shut your trap, Johnny.”
Price never responded, because the second he was able his arms wrapped around your body, and as your own hands latch onto the back of his gown, his grip the back of your head; cradling it like a precious object. His other wraps around your waist.
“John,” You whimpered into his chest, hearing his breath hitch as another sob rips from your throat, “What the fuck?” Wet tears stain his garment.
John utters your name as he begins running his fingers through your hair, turning his head down and pressing his nose to the top of your head as he lightly moves from side to side. Your legs almost collapse when you inhale his scent – gunpowder, leather, and spruce trees. That was him. That was John.
“Muppets!” John suddenly calls out, though his voice is noticeably shaky. You manage to pull him impossibly closer, “Get the fuck out, now.”
“Aye, aye, Sir.” Soap mutters, sending soft glances your way that you missed in your state, “good to have you back.” You don’t know if he was talking to John or to the both of you.
Ghost whispers past, grasping Soap's shoulder and lightly shoving him faster toward the door as Gaz happily sighs.
“We’ll be in the Barracks, Sir. Take your time.” The door closes. Immediately John starts talking.
“Love, I’m so sorry. The Helo went down and I–”
“It doesn’t matter,” You gasp, pulling back to grab at his cheeks, feeling his beard tickle your fingers just like it always did, “It doesn't matter,” you repeat, “You’re here – you came back.” A strangled laugh tumbles from your lips as John's fingers begin to clear the tears off of your face so gently, “You came back to me, John.”
He gazes into your eyes so softly you feel like dying – such love leaking from his hold that you finally understand why you were so broken by his disappearance.
You were always searching for traces of him, whether that was in his scent or the faces of strangers – in his books or his favorite films. John was your other half, and having him die was like having half of yourself die with him.
“What have I done to you?” John whispers, fingers grazing the deep purple under your eyes, taking in the lost weight as he grips your waist tighter. He swallows, eyes flicking away, “I should have tried to get back to you sooner.”
Your eyebrows pull up, eyes widening at the genuine pain on John’s face. Knowing that words won't sway his hard-headedness, you blink away the tears and sniffle, moving your hands to your neck. With a swift motion of your arm, you tug the dog tags from your chest and press them between your bodies, your eyes impossibly warm as John tilts his head to gaze at them silently.
Keeping a handle on your tears, you bring your other hand up, grasping and taking off his beanie on your head. Carefully, and with all the love you could muster, you place it on top of John’s hair, whispering for only him to hear, “You were always with me.”
His kiss had never felt quite as good as at that moment.
That night the entire Task Force went out to celebrate – some bar with a classic atmosphere that John was sure to love after his official discharge from the medical ward. And he did, because as long as you were right beside him, and vice-versa, the lights always seemed a bit brighter, the music just a tad livelier.
He kept you in the crook of his arm the entire night, and, in the morning he would tell you he was taking two months off as the light streamed through the curtains; your naked bodies pressed tightly as he leaves trailing kisses down your neck and between your breasts. Soft sighs and gentle caresses you had wanted for over a month that you would never lack again.
But for now, in the soft yellow light, he watched you as you laughed at one of Soap’s horrible jokes, moving to shoulder Ghost to get a reaction out of him before John drags you back into his hold. You go willingly, wrapping your own arm around his tapered waist; snuggling into his chest with a genuine smile. Sneaking a glance up at your boyfriend, you find his gaze already on you, head still covered by that beanie that he wasn’t going to take off the entire night. A small smile rises on John’s lips before he leans down and kisses your head, your face heating as Soap makes a fake gagging sound before you laugh once more.
Gaz watched the both of you, relief bleeding from his eyes as he brings his drink to his lips. Pointedly, he turns his gaze to the dog tags around your neck, seeing the glinting metal with a flash of surprise.
He smiles. He’d have to remember to tell his Captain to order a new pair tomorrow.
#john price x reader#John price x you#john price#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#MW2#cod#cod x reader#cod mw22#cod x you#mw2 2022
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Personal Nurses
Summary: You get sick with something and need to stay home, and so your lovely boyfriends take up the job of nursing you back to health.
Warnings: Mentions of being sick (sore throat, stuffy nose, and fever). Taking medicine. Half Google translated Spanish, my high school Spanish is really rusty the grammar may be weird. Other wise a nice wholesome sick comfort fic.
Author’s Snip: Fun fact, this was originally going to be a fic where it was about Abi (the reader and system’s daughter that have a bit of an unofficial series with) getting sick. But I decided to make it about the boys taking care of you because I got a nasty cold a while ago and wanted to see this.
Notes: Again, the grammar in Jake’s Spanish speaking might be not so good because my Spanish is rusty as hell.
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
Word Count: 692
Being sick wasn’t that great. Sure, it got you out of needing to do things, but you also had to deal with actually being sick. And that’s never great.
You went to bed last night with a tickle in your throat and runny nose that you thought would pass in the morning, but then you woke up dying for water, barely able to breathe through your nose, and now you were burning up like a whore in church.
When Steven eventually woke up and found you in the kitchen you could tell he knew. You made an attempt to brush it off by saying “I’ll just drink some tea and sit under an air conditioner today.” but you could see Steven and the rest of them in that brain vote no on even letting you get out into your work clothes.
So now you get to wallow in bed and have three personal nurses.
Since Steven was the one who woke up with the body, so he was the one who set everything up. He politely shooed you back into bed, placed extra pillows, called your work for you, made you your tea and breakfast, and brought all that to you in bed with a cold rag and medicine. He also checked your temperature which, of course earned an “Oh, love. That’s no good.” that seemed more like him thinking out loud.
Steven was the one mostly in charge of your comfort and doing things for you when you’re sick. If you wanted an extra blanket, you got one. If your fever rag got lukewarm, he made it cool again. Do you want more water or tea? You got it. Is it too bright? He’ll draw the curtains for you. If anything he was more of a bell boy than a nurse. But it still made him blush a little when you called him that.
Marc was the one in charge of making sure you got your medicine in, and he was on top of it. Apparently, when you were taking a nap after eating breakfast, Marc took the body to go to the pharmacy and get new medicine and vitamins because “The one we have isn’t strong enough.” as if he was able to tell just by looking at you. When he came back, he had you eat some bread, saying “So that it doesn’t mess with your stomach if it's empty already.” and also “It helps it stay down. It has something to stick to.”.
“How do you know all this?” you questioned, to which Marc simply said “Trial and error,”, “Now take the vitamins. It helps your immune system fight it off.” Marc orders. You just shrug and comment “Whatever you say, Nurse Spector.”.
Jake was dead set on making food for you, making Marc go to a whole different market while he was out, just to buy ingredients for the soup he wanted to make you.
“Qué no, Marc. No puedes compras los sopas enlatadas.” Jake said to himself with a laugh. “Mind letting me in on the joke?” Marc asked as he watched Jake cut up the ingredients from the reflection in the soup. “You couldn’t buy them canned soup, Marc. Canned soup doesn’t do it. You gotta make it.” Jake explained, clearly referring to the whole ‘make it with love’ thing. “Well, that’s what we would have,” Marc mentioned. “Because that’s all we got.” Jake said back, “But not for them.” he added as to pointed to where you were resting. “They’d do the same for us.” Jake stated confidently.
When the soup was settled and done, and cooled down enough, Jake brought the bowl straight to you in bed. You thought he was going to bring a little table like Steven and Marc did, but it was clear when Jake kept holding the bowl and took up a spoonful of it and held it towards your mouth. You say his name with a scoff and he smiles. “Come on, mi amor. Steven and Marc got to play nurse today.” Jake teased. You roll your eyes and decide to humor him and let him feed you.
#moon knight#moonknight#moon knight x reader#moonknight x reader#steven grant#jake lockley#marc spector#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#jake lockley x reader
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Love's Proposition Collection Event
Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.
Slightly suggestive
I woke up earlier than usual and quietly slipped out of Gilbert's bed to change in my room, but, for some reason, the door wouldn't open.
(It's locked from the inside.)
Emma: "Gil..."
Gilbert: "The key is right here."
He seemed to have woken up as he sat up and playfully shook the key in his hand, smiling.
(It's not the first time he locked me in, but...)
Emma: "Do you have something to tell me?"
Gilbert: "Who knows?"
Emma: "Please tell me."
Gilbert: ".........."
Emma: "I was planning to bake a lot of sweets today, you know?"
Gilbert: "Heh?"
He beckoned me over, still smiling.
I approached him cautiously, and he grabbed my hand and bit it.
Emma: "Ouch!"
Gilbert: "Be careful, as every time you make a mistake, your body will be covered in bite marks."
(He's being unreasonable!)
Emma: "Wait, are you sick?"
Gilbert: "Do I look sick?"
Emma: "No."
He pushed me roughly onto the bed, and this time, he bit into my shoulder, opening my collar.
Emma: "T-Then do you want me to help you with something一"
Gilbert: "All of those are completely off."
He bit into my other shoulder, and tears welled up from the pain.
Gilbert: "You need to guess quickly, or you'll end up getting covered in bite marks."
(What else could it be?)
He peered into my face from a close distance.
Drawn in by his seductive blood-colored eyes, I lightly kissed him as if being tempted.
Emma: "Is it something like this?"
Gilbert: "............"
He gently nibbled on my nose.
(This isn't it either.)
(Crap. At this rate, I might not be able to leave the room.)
The strange tension and the pounding of my heartbeat stole my words.
In the silence, Gilbert's cold hand pulled down my negligee, and he bit into my exposed nipple.
Emma: "Nnn. You still haven't given me an answer!"
Gilbert: "It doesn't matter how long it takes me to answer."
As his tongue slid over the throbbing bite mark, my body gradually succumbed to the heat.
He mercilessly repeated it, and my thoughts melted into a heavy, vanilla-like sweetness.
Gilbert: "Why can't you understand something so simple?"
Gilbert: "Come on, think properly."
Emma: "Ahhh... I don't know."
Gilbert: "I see. Then I guess you'll be stuck in here forever."
(Forever!?)
Gilbert: "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."
His cold fingertips slid from my chest to my stomach, eventually slipping inside the space between my legs.
(I need to think.)
I bit my lip to prevent myself from being consumed by the violent pleasure, but a cold kiss stopped me.
His expression, as he pulled away, seemed somewhat dissatisfied.
(The reason I can't leave the room is a simple one.)
(But when did he lock the door in the first place?)
(At the very least, he had already wanted something by the time I fell asleep.)
(I'm pretty sure he anticipated my actions.)
(Oh!)
The moment I realized it, I embraced him.
Emma: "I'll stay here a bit longer."
Gilbert: "Fufu, well done."
He embraced me back, and our bodies pressed together.
Gilbert: "Going back to your room right after waking up is a bit lonely, don't you think?"
Gilbert: "Just how lonely? Well, enough to want to render your legs useless."
Emma: "Will you stop that!?"
Gilbert: "Ahahaha, don't worry. You wouldn't do something so cruel to me, would you?"
His tone was more like a plea than a threat.
Because of that, instead of getting angry, affection filled me.
(At this rate, I might not be able to stay away for even a moment.)
He repeatedly gave me short kisses with a satisfied smile, and I squinted my eyes at the ticklish sensation.
(But it's okay.)
(Because it's not just Gilbert who feels lonely.)
Ikepri Masterlist
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𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧! [𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞]
Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.
The originals of my works can be read here
Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail
Pairings: Blade x fem!reader
Warnings: nothing, just cute fluff~
▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. 音阙诗听, 赵方婧, 昆玉 - 端午节
Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq
Sometimes it's nice to remember that Blade can be very caring and sweet, even if you don't think of him that way right away. I hope this warm and cozy evening with him will bring you joy and New Year's mood (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ
Tiny splashes settle on the skin of your hand when you lazily tear the peel of a tangerine, filling the room with a characteristic sour smell. So calm and peaceful that you almost fall asleep, sprawled on the table with the soft sound of the TV on, just like your sullen lover with his arms crossed over his chest. Heavy eyelids cover the man's scarlet eyes every now and then, but he continues to sit steadfastly on the chair straight while you carefully peel the tangerine slices from excess white veins before handing one to Blade. He doesn't even bother to pick it up, instead just opening his lips and letting you put the citrus slice on his tongue. You rest your head on your palm, watching the man's eyes close as he pops a juicy piece of tangerine in his mouth, silently enjoying the sweet and sour taste before slowly chewing and swallowing.
You like such quiet and cozy evenings. Blade doesn't come home as often as you would like, so you especially appreciate even the time spent like this, in peace and quiet, satisfied only with his presence next to you. To tell you the truth, you wouldn't mind just taking one of the softest blankets you can find in your house, draping it over your shoulders and taking a little nap, basking in the warmth created by your and Blade's bodies pressed against each other. And it would have been the perfect end to the evening, if not for one "but".
— Blade, — you mumble softly, spreading out even more on your own palm, catching the mumble of a man barely distinguishable from the noise of the TV, it seems, gradually losing the battle with sleep. — Let's take a walk.
— Why?
— Well… the New Year is coming soon after all. Although I like our gatherings at home, but who knows when you'll have to leave again.
Blade mumbles something unintelligible again, reluctantly opening his eyes and fixing his gaze on your sleepy face.
— And where do you want to go?
— I don't even know, — you throw your head back thoughtfully, looking at the ceiling. — We can just go wherever we want!
— That still doesn't answer my question.
A heavy sigh.
— Don't be such a bore! It's just a walk, it doesn't have to have any purpose.
Blade lets out a short sigh, looking at your pouty face as you pop a slice of tangerine into your mouth. Even if he always looks sullen, often stubborn and boring you with his taciturnity or, on the contrary, excessive meticulousness, it's really hard for him to deny you what you want.
— Okay. Just for a little while, I'd still like to take a nap.
You instantly perk up, bursting out of your seat and moving closer to Blade, breaking into a satisfied smile.
— Seriously?!
The man can barely contain either another sigh, or a laugh caused by your funny reaction.
— Seriously.
✧ ✧ ✧
The spicy smell of baking and tea is in the slightly frosty night air, and the lively noise of festive bustle can be heard from the streets. Such a bright contrast compared to that quiet evening, which you both refused, but you are even more inspired by that, running your eyes over each elegant Christmas tree, sparkling lights in the windows and small shops, from where the mouth-watering smells of New Year's treats come.
— Tch, where were you in such a hurry? — Blade grumbles in displeasure, obscuring your delightful view with his tall figure.
You barely had time to open your mouth to scold the man, when suddenly your own soft scarf was pressed to your lips, which Blade carefully wrapped tighter around your neck. You wince and sneeze when the lint tickles your nose, giving your lover a pouty look.
— I wasn't cold.
— Your cheeks are red, — Blade raises an eyebrow, loosely tying the ends of the scarf on your chest before stepping aside again.
— A light frost hasn't harmed anyone yet, — you mumble dissatisfactionedly into your scarf, grabbing Blade's hand again and continuing your leisurely walk.
It didn't take you long to find a new reason to be excited when a shop with caramel apples caught your curious eyes, just as Blade didn't need words to fatally proceed to it, leaving you on a bench nearby. Then hot tea with spices, cute Christmas decorations, near which you hung around for several minutes, desperately fighting a verbal battle with Blade for the fact that you just need them.
Although it might seem that you were being followed by someone who looked more like a gloomy stalker dressed in a black cloak, a scarf covering half of your face, and a hat than your boyfriend, when you rushed forward, finding a new object of genuine interest for yourself, the concern of others receded when Blade over and over again, he caught you by the hand, then pulling you away from another food store, lamenting that later you would complain of abdominal pain, then humbly buying what you liked.
Time flew by so quickly. You haven't felt this childish carelessness for so long that you just gave yourself up to this fleeting feeling, ignoring how tired your legs were, and not paying attention to how there were almost no people around you two. Blade just listened to your endless chatter in silence, allowing himself, even if only for one evening, to relax, succumbing to your infectious carelessness.
— Y/N, it's time for us to get back.
You turn around when you feel Blade stop, still holding your petite hand tightly in his.
— Oh, already? — you sigh in disappointment, burying your nose deeper into your cozy scarf. There's not a soul around you. The noise of conversations and footsteps disappeared without a trace, leaving behind only the distant sounds of stalls closing and lights fading. — Yes, you're right.… Shall we go home then?
You smile softly with a slight note of sadness in your voice, already about to go in the opposite direction, but you feel Blade's hand still holding you in place, forcing you to turn around, puzzled.
— Is something wrong? — you return to your seat across from Blade, looking questioningly into his scarlet eyes peeking out from under a soft black scarf.
The man just continues to stare at you in silence for a while, which should have seemed scary and strange to you if you didn't know Blade, but you just keep looking back at him, slightly narrowing your eyes, until he finally bends over. The fingertips of his free hand lower the scarf from your face, gently cupping your jaw. You barely have time to figure out what's going on, just about to open your mouth to start talking, but the words just stick in your throat when Blade's slightly cool but soft lips are pressed against yours.
Just for a few seconds, but you manage to feel his warm breath on the skin of your face, the light spicy aroma that permeated his clothes and hair, and the sweet taste of caramel. Blade so rarely takes the initiative in physical intimacy that you just freeze, allowing him to leave this short but tremulous kiss on your lips before he silently pulls away, for a moment lingering on your flushed face, either from frost or embarrassment.
— Wh-what are you doing all of a sudden?.. — you blink in confusion, squeezing his big hand tighter.
— I thought I'd better do it myself before you make me.
You follow Blade's gaze as he looks up, noticing a sprig of mistletoe hanging over both of you. Slowly, but still, the realization of what happened comes to you, and you gasp loudly, returning your gaze to Blade, whose face is already buried in a voluminous scarf again.
— Have you been deliberately lulling my vigilance all this time so that I forget that I want to kiss you first?!
You pout, pretending to look offended. It's even good that his face is now covered with a scarf, and you don't see how the corners of Blade's lips lifted in a smile just looking at how your eyebrows are slightly frowning, but your eyes are still sparkling with genuine joy.
— Yes, that's right.
— This is terribly mean! — you keep grumbling even as you both turn around to walk back home as slowly as you came to this cozy place. — Next time I'll take you right under the mistletoe and do it first, you'll see!
Blade nods softly, interlacing his gloved fingers with yours.
— I'll be waiting.
#headcanons#hsr#hsr x reader#honkai:star rail#honkai:star rail x reader#hsr x you#hsr fluff#hsr drabbles#blade#blade x reader#blade x you#blade fluff
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Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter One
Prologue
Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Aemond is delulu, tiny!Jace is delulu, Dark Themes, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠
Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you all so much for the amazing support for this story's prologue, I did NOT expect so many positive reviews! I'm sorry this took so long, but I had a ton of applications and finals. But since I am on winter break, hopefully I will be able to upload more fics! Happy Holidays and big shoutout to @valeskafics, who continues to be the HOTD fanfic writing ICON that we all know and love! If you liked reading this work, reblog and comment if you want to be tagged in future installments of this work! Also I apologize for any grammatical errors, I wanted to post this as soon as possible.
You have known your entire life that you were going to be one of the many seamstresses that serviced the Royal Family.
By the age of three, your mother would teach you how to begin your very first stitches, which soon shifted to learning the most complicated patterns of embroidery. You still remember the tears in her eyes as you presented the silk-woven handkerchief that had lovely little purple and blue flowers embroidered on the borders for her birthday. Your face flushed to an almost too bright red when she insisted on showing all the other royal seamstresses and tailors your first handkerchief. But it made you smile in remembering how big her smile was that week, as she was so pleased by how much you’ve progressed at such a young age.
When you were only six, your mother had begun to teach you how to properly extract the dye from beautiful flowers and the scales of brightly-colored insects. So skilled and nimble were your fingers that you even gave your childhood playmate, Aemond Targaryen, a thick green wool cloak with green and silver dragon embroidery. The cloak’s wool had been dyed by your hand with copious amounts of goldenrod and indigo flowers. You then carefully stitched silk to line the inside of the cloak to prevent him from overheating, as even the harshest winters in the Crownlands were hardly anything compared to the summers in the North. It had caught you off-guard in the almost too-tight embrace he locked you in, but you eagerly reciprocated as you could tell he appreciated the gift more than words could describe.
It was not just a gift for is name-day from a childhood companion, but also a way to reassure him that he will one day have a dragon. And even if the gods do not grant him worthy in their eyes, he would always be considered a prince worthy of the Targaryen name in yours. After all, there were not many princes that would willingly spend all their free time with a lowly seamstress’ daughter – even if the supposed seamstress that was your mother was so heavily favored by the Queen.
“Pearl,” came a voice with a tone far too serious despite its youth, “what are you doing in the Godswood?”
You lifted your head from old tome you were studying, only to see a young boy of only nine name-days, that stood as straight as one of the stone pillars that stood in the Sept of Baelor. His white locks nearly blinded you with how the sunshine seemed to reflect on them.
“Well my prince, as you can clearly see, I have decided to take advantage of this fine day to do a bit of studying of my own.” You lifted the near ancient tome on your lap to show him the title, Myths and Legends of the Jade Seas.
Whatever outwardly beauty the book possessed had long diminished, the spine was bent from the hundreds of hours spent looking through its contents and the letters were near faded to a dull grey as the pages yellowed from age. But the colors of the ink remained as vibrant as when they were first painted on the frail sheets, accompanied by beautiful imagery of magical dragons and elusive mermaids. The details were so fine and intricate that it felt as if you only needed to touch the ink in order to be transported into the stories. You remembered how you begged either your mother or father to read it to you every night, as utterly transfixed by the colors back then as you remained so now.
“You are more than welcome to join me, but if – and only if – you share one of those apples hiding in your knapsack.”
Finally showing an expression appropriate for his age, the young prince reached in his pouch to show two gorgeous apples – the skin was practically gleaming in the sun as your mouth watered for its taste. Aemond handed one to you as he sat by your side underneath the plentiful shade of the heart tree. Scooting over to make room on the overgrown root you sat on, you eagerly showed him strange text.
“Look Aemond!” you exclaimed as you shoved the book to his nose. “This book says that there were dragons in Yi Ti! Isn’t that amazing?”
Aemond looked at you as if you had suddenly grown two heads and five eyes. “How can there be dragons in Yi Ti? All the dragons save the ones in the dragonpit and the rocky shores of Dragonstone had perished in The Doom that sunk Valyria. Everyone knows that pearl.”
“These dragons are different! According to my kepa, Yi Ti dragons don’t even need wings to fly!”
The young prince rolled his eyes at that. “How could they fly if they don’t have wings? Even Carraxes the Blood Wrym has wings, and he looks like an overgrown red snake.” Honestly, his pearl could be so silly. “Besides, what would your father know? He’s a bastard from the Iron Islands, that’s nowhere near the Jade Seas.”
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “He heard so on his travels with Lord Velaryon and Prince Laenor! Apparently, these dragons use magic and live in the ocean. And they don’t even breathe fire! They make it rain and control the oceans!”
“…Pearl, I think you’ve been spending too much time making those dyes. The fumes must have gotten to your head.”
You openly gaped at your friend’s comment, completely in shock for how blatantly he dismissed you. It made you want to pound your fists on his person until he took it back. So naturally, you did just that.
“Aemond Targaryen, you take that back right now!” you shrieked. Although your actions told otherwise, the smile on your face showed that you took no true offense to his words. If anything, it pleased you to know that you could still make the stone-faced prince giggle as a boy should at his age.
“Never!”
As the two of you giggled and played, several pairs of wandering eyes spied and grimaced at the distasteful display. Although your friendship with the next generation of the royal family was no secret, much of the court disapproved of how highly the royal family thought of you and Prince Aemond’s friendship. After all, he was the second born prince of House Targaryen, born of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. By the time the Targaryen prince could toddle, great things were expected from him. From a very early age, he immersed himself in his studies befitting of a prince of Westeros. You, on the other hand, were only the daughter of a seamstress and a bastard knight who became a lord of a holding so minor that it had no name. You only skills were that you could make pretty dye, and stitch pretty pictures with a needle and thread.
But he always treated you kindly and defended you whenever his eldest brother decided to use you as his latest target for mockery. You were a precious pearl – his precious pearl – Aegon may be his brother, but he could never love Aegon as much as he loved you. True, your father being a bastard did you no favors in the Red Keep’s court, but Aemond would never tell you that himself. Instead, he openly acknowledged his bravery and commended his loyalty to the Crown. After all, how many bastards can boast that they saved the Lord Corlys Velaryon, holder of the Driftwood Throne, from a siege of pirates during one of the lord’s many voyages to Essos?
In turn, you always made sure to provide comfort and support whenever his brother and nephews decided to pick on him. Without fail, he would seek out your company – his eyes red and puffy, while his cheeks were wet from hastily wiped tears. You would take his hands and the two of you would venture out to the library’s more secluded sections. You made sure to pack whatever you have been working on with you. While you were glad that he came to you for comfort, it would do little good for either of you if you were to be punished for not completing whatever tasks your mother assigned you.
“Who cares if you don’t have a dragon?” you once asked him as the two of you laid next to each other, surrounded by books. “There are plenty members of the Targaryen line that did not have dragons, but they still lived out important lives in serving their family however they could. King Jaehaerys was considered a great ruler for how he served the realm– not for riding Vermithor. And even if you had a dragon, is that all you wish to be known for? Your grandfather, Baelon the Brave, was wise and beloved by the small folk for how he tried to make their lives easier. But all he is known for in history books is how he burned down Dorne with Vhagar.”
“Better to be known for a dragon than to disappear, not being known for anything – not even a dragon worthy of the Targaryen name.”
Sitting up against a bookshelf, you repositioned Aemond to lie his head on your thighs. Luckily the candlelight made the area dark enough so that you wouldn’t see his ears turning red. Instead, he buried his face in the soft cotton of your blue tunic as you stroked his soft silver white locks. Although his heart was beating erratically, your sweet scent along with your body’s suppleness was enough to take away any ire left in him.
“Stop that,” you ordered, “you will not be forgotten, don’t be so dramatic.” Eyes softening at his tense shoulders, you eased on the sternness of your tone. “Nyke pendagon iksā brilliant. Eman dōrī rhēdan anyone else qilōni kostagon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie hae sȳrī hae ao. Kostā solve problems bona aegon ēza trouble lēda during aōha lessons lēda se Giēñatī. Aemond, iksā ñuha sȳrje raqiros. Gaomagon daor ivestragon kesā sagon daor rūnas.”
You pretended not to notice how tightly he clenched your dress as you ignored the how warm the spot where his hot tears grew.
As you continued to stroke his hair, Aemond made a silent vow that when he finally claimed a dragon, you would be the first person he would ride it with. He thought about how his bastard nephews would always try to take you from him, especially Jace, how he despised that boy. No, your touches would belong to him, and only him. Your sweet words and kind demeanor were his to cherish. You were his pearl – his pearl – and no one else’s, especially not the pretend Targaryen that was Jacaerys Strong.
Yes, it pleased Aemond to know that he was your best friend. But sometimes it frustrated him in how you refused to take him seriously as a man. For example, he once announced that when he claimed his dragon, he would finally be a noble dragon knight who would protect you from the most vicious of beasts. No matter how he insisted on his sincerity, you only rolled your eyes at the proclamation. You told him that you had no need for a knight, let alone a dragon knight. You had your dearest kepa for protection, and there was no finer knight in all the Seven Kingdoms in your eyes. So silly was his pearl indeed.
“Ashi’!” a new voice called out, interrupting the comfortable silence between him and his pearl. It belonged to the king’s eldest grandson, Prince Jacaerys Strong Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne after his mother, Princess Rhaenyra. “Your mother is looking for you! She said that she needs your help with Mother’s clothes!”
“Alright!” When you stood from you spot, you made sure to brush away any dirt or debris left on your skirts. You gathered your mother’s book in both arms when you made your way to the prince. “But why did my muña not send one of her attendants instead? It would not have been difficult to find me. Everyone knows that I enjoy reading under the Hearts Tree in the Godswood during my spare time. Are you not busy with your own duties, my prince?”
Straightening his posture to appear taller, Jace did his best to sound as authoritative as his father had taught him. “I just finished my lessons for the morning, and I volunteered to escort you. Besides, I figured that it would do me some good in practicing escorting you. I’ll need to do it in the future when I am king after my mother.” His round freckled cheeks reddened to a rosy hue at that last part.
Not at all catching the terribly obvious implication, you shrugged off his words as you figured that he meant that he was using you as practice for whichever future noble lady he would court in the future. However, the suggestion was not at all lost on your friend, who was still sitting on the overgrown root, glaring at his eldest nephew with a fury that rivaled the Great Doom that sunk Valyria.
“Well, we should be on our way then. Come on Aemond, we should get going!” You held out your held for your friend to hold on to, but were quickly interrupted by the brown-haired Targaryen at the side.
“He can’t! I mean-” stammered Jace as did his best in thinking of an excuse, “-I’m afraid my uncle cannot join us. You see, um – his mother, the Queen, requested his presence in her solar.”
“I’m sure my mother won’t mind waiting for a few moments while I join you in escorting my pearl to her favorite friend, nephew.” This wasn’t a lie on Aemond’s part. While he didn’t like the idea in keeping his mother waiting for him, he despised the thought of you being alone with the Strong Knight’s eldest bastard even more. Besides, his mother adored you as if you were her own daughter. It would have gone without saying that she would be happy with her son spending time with her best friend’s daughter.
“But why would you want to risk it, uncle?” Jacaerys wasn’t going to let his selfish uncle hog all of your attention. You were his friend too! It wasn’t fair that he had find crumbs of your time and affections, while his uncle got to feast on your smiles and laughter. He had spent hours with the dragon keepers of the dragonpit to help him train Vermax, all so that he could finally show you how close he was in riding him! But you were always too busy comforting his stupid dragonless uncle!
Enough was enough. Jacaerys may have been a Velaryon like his father, but he was also a Targaryen like his mother. It was he who carried the dragon’s blood, and dragons took what they desired or felt what they deserved. And he desrved to be with you more than Aemond.
“It’s alright Aemond, we’ll talk more later! Let’s go Jace, we shouldn’t keep our mothers waiting any more than we have.” Grabbing his hand before walking out of the gardens, you weren’t able to see the younger prince throw a triumphant smirk to his uncle before once more facing you with the story of how Luke accidentally got egg in his hair.
Watching his literal bastard of a nephew walk hand-in-hand away with his pearl, Aemond Targaryen felt his fury grow more potent with each step. He hated that you called his nephew by his nickname, all while he had none. What’s worse was the fact that you allowed him to refer to you as “Ashi.” What a ridiculous name, only a lowborn such as his nephew would refer to someone as precious as you as something as study and simple like “Ashi.” You were a pearl – his pearl, in fact. A fact that he felt was important to emphasize as he watched your head being thrown back in laughter. His anger grew to an all-time high when he watched you ruffle Jacaery’s hair with abundant affection.
Not wanting to make a scene, he walked to his mother’s chambers in fuming silence. While her presence wasn’t yours, maybe he could think of a plan to get you away from his whore of a sister and her illegitimate offspring.
If worse comes to worst, he might need to recruit his sister to his cause. He knew that Helaena would especially be thrilled in receiving your presence. You were the only one besides your parents that did not treat his beloved sister like an oddity. If you were not with Aemond, you were often found stitching with the young princess. It seemed that you were the only person in the entire world that could get her to smile.
Such a sweet girl, his pearl. Someone so kind was not meant to endure the presence of lowly bastards – even if they did technically carry royal blood.
He needed to come up with something fast.
Translations:
“Nyke pendagon iksā brilliant. Eman dōrī rhēdan anyone else qilōni kostagon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie hae sȳrī hae ao. Kostā solve problems bona aegon ēza trouble lēda during aōha lessons lēda se Giēñatī. Aemond, iksā ñuha sȳrje raqiros. Gaomagon daor ivestragon kesā sagon daor rūnas.” - “You’re brilliant. I’ve never met anyone else who can speak such fluent High Valyrian, especially at your age. You can solve problems that Aegon has trouble with during your lessons with the Maester. Aemond, you are my best friend. Don’t say that you will be forgotten.”
Tagging:
@valeskafics, @faesspace, @aphroditesmoon, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @nellychick, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @mckiquinn, @cvspians, @aemondslove
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd au#house of the dragon x you#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon x oc#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon x oc#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x oc#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys x oc#aemond x reader#aemond x oc#reader insert
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hello!!! I was reading your story of the low characters in Genshin finding out that we like tall guys, imagine if it were the other way around?! How fun it would be haha
and then imagine. You’re talking with Yandere! Childe about your type of man and you say that it’s traveler because he is short. Or to Zhongli and says that we like Xiao or Venti. I was thinking in many characters to use that idea
(and I was thinking in write that, but my English is bad and I use the translator very frequently.
But, I hope you understand what I’m saying because I’m bad at English and I’m learning this language lol)
sorry if have grammatical errors it’s because I’m dumb, have a good day/night!!!
You're not dumb at all!! I loved your version of this so I hope you enjoy mine as well!! Thank you for the idea <3
─⊰⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⊹ฺ🎃
{༻~Reader likes them short~༺}
CW: Yandere themes! Slight angst, very small mention of blood, a couple curse words, creepy tones, tall men find out you like short boys and they aren't happy about it!
A/n: So for the short boy you're crushing on, I made Dilucs headcanon with Albedo, Zhonglis with Xiao, Alhaithams with Cyno, Neuvillettes with Lyney and Childes with the traveler!
(Includes: Diluc, Zhongli, Alhaitham, Neuvillette, and Childe!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Diluc:
Dilucs crimson eyes stared deeply into yours, his stoic expression making you just the tiniest bit uncomfortable under his piercing gaze...it was just a simple question. All he wanted to know was your type of guy, but it was the fact that he'd never asked anything like it before and how he acted so intense afterwords, like your answer could change his life as he knew it.
"Ahem...you don't have to answer if you don't want to, I was just curious is all." He finally looked away from you, grabbing a dirty glass from the stack and rubbing it with his hand held rag, just like he would any other day. It actually calmed you down a bit to see him at work, your worries dissipating at the familiar sight, "No I don't mind, I was just...a little nervous at first. Don't go telling anyone, but I actually find Albedo pretty attractive, he's much shorter than most of the Knights of Favonious and I find it endearing."
Suddenly the glass Diluc has been holding shattered, almost like it had exploded, shards flying across the counter and onto the floor, cuts making themselves known on his hands. It made you jump halfway out of your seat, "Diluc are you alright?!"
"I-im...fine."
Never in your life had you heard such deep anger in his voice and the look in his eyes...something wasn't right.
𑁍༄Zhongli:
"You say you've taken a liking to adeptus Xiao? I must say, he's certainly a interesting character and loyal,...but he's not without his faults. His worries about karmic debt and his need to conquer demons, paired with his troublesome attitude could prove...difficult in a relationship." Zhongli set a cup of tea in front of you, speaking his mind about your recent confession, years of experience handling himself in situations like this now working in his favour.
He was more than jealous of your feelings for someone else, infact it seeped into the core of his very being and ate away at him, but for now he had to play nice. You caught more bees with honey after all, "Of course I don't want to persuade you to not try, I just hope you won't be to disappointed when he rejects the idea of it."
You took a sip of the tea, it's warm unique flavours delicious on your tongue, "I don't mind, I just don't want to give up easily. He's just... impressive is all. He's so short and yet he still somehow exudes pure strength. Amazing~" You started to daydream towards the end, thinking about the handsome adeptus while Zhongli stared into his cup of tea like he was planning to start a new archon war.
"Yes...he's so amazing."
𑁍༄Alhaitham:
Alhaitham was very good at not caring about other people's problems, he'd sit down with a good book while people droned on about every little thing that bothered them and he wouldn't even hear a word, he'd almost consider it a talent of his...,but then you arrived. You'd make his heart race and his pupils dilate, it was like everything in him changed, he wanted to hear all about you. Everything and anything...that is, until you mentioned your general type of man.
"I like shorter guys, they are almost always adorable and have past trauma that I can help with. Oh oh! Like General Mahamatra Cyno, he's absolutely dreamy." Your cheeks blushed at the thought of him, your heart skipping a beat, he really did have a affect on you...and it was blatantly obvious.
"You like...Cyno? I'm not his biggest fan." Alhaitham snapped his book closed loudly, making you jump and catching you completely off guard. He almost never did that, actually he'd gotten annoyed with you when you had because he said it harmed the books...although in reality you had assumed he just didn't want you touching his precious books to begin with.., "Alhaitham...what was that all about?"
"You must be blind to adoration...it's fine. One day I'll show you."
𑁍༄Neuvillette:
"My apologies, but could you repeat that? Did you just say that your romantic feelings are purely based off Lyneys height...I know full well he's a bit of a flirt and that in itself along with the fact he's a famous magician would be reason enough to find him attractive,...but your main reason, is simply how tall he is?" Neuvillette sat in front of you, swirling the water in his glass with a slight look of distain, not for the beverage of course, but rather the idea of you liking...Lyney.
"There's just something about shorter men that makes me feel flustered, maybe it has something to do with the fact they are usually considered underdogs because of it, or maybe it's simply because they tend to be cuter. I don't really know, but it's the truth. What about you Neuvie?" You looked at him expectantly, eyes shining with curiosity and for a split second he thought about uttering the truth, explaining how madly in love with you he was.
He could talk for hours just about your beauty, your laugh that soothed even his darkest quells, but for now he'd keep those feelings to himself and try his best not to think of...Lyney possibly stealing you away from him. After all...a dragon could easily take out a mere magician and he didn't want to hurt anyone, at least...not yet.
𑁍༄Childe:
Childe punched the training dummy harder, his knuckles bruises with every fist he threw and his heart pounding so loud that it felt like his ears could explode...how could you like the traveler over him? It wasn't even because of strength or personality! You're only comment was, "He's not as tall as others and...I guess it just makes him standout to me." What kind of confession was that?
He threw a harder punch, anger blinding him as sent the dummy flying off its stand, clattering on the ground like cheap kindle wood. "Shit." He took a deep breath, trying to not think about you, but you were the only thing he could think about anymore...
"Childe, you know, I don't think you're supposed to break the training dummies." Your voice instantly drew his attention, eyes locking onto your beautiful self as you made your way towards him, your hands ruffling his bright orange hair and making hims swoon.
Why did you have to like someone else...
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*.✧
#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#genshin fanfic#genshin x reader#genshin x you#diluc x reader#diluc headcanons#yandere diluc#diluc x you#diluc genshin impact#zhongli x reader#zhongli x you#zhongli headcanons#zhongli genshin impact#yandere zhongli#alhaitham genshin#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham headcanons#yandere alhaitham#genshin neuvillette#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x you#neuvilletteheadcanons#yandere neuvillette#childe x reader#childe x you#childe headcanons#genshin childe#yandere childe
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Cachetona
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Y/N gets told she’s cute all the time by everyone including her boyfriend and she worries that he doesn’t find her sexy
Warning: grammar and spelling errors, no translated Spanish porque me da flojera, IMPLIED innocence and corruption kink if you could call it that, honestly. It's kinda angsty fluff
A/N: I actually requested something similar to @shellyshellshell but this time I’m gonna add my own spin to it. I get told I’m cute and adorable by my bestie, I’ve been told I was cute by some adults, and I’m fine with it. Like I’m 21, I know I’m cute and adorable, because of my personality along with my chubby cheeks, so this is something I worry about and lowkey struggle with. Like I feel I can’t dress in a “sexy” way or do my makeup in a “sexy” way because I feel like it doesn’t match my face or hair at all. Así que me toca vestirme “cute”
Y/N has always had a rounder face and chubby cheeks. Even at her big age of 32, she still has those chubby cheeks that her mom likes to point out all the time. She thought she would have looked more mature by now like other women her age, she thought wrong.
However, truth be told she really didn’t mind being called cute growing up. It wasn’t until her previous partners only saw her as cute, it was even worse when her current boyfriend, Henry Cavill, started calling her cute.
They met a few months ago at Disneyland, which was already a bad start, Henry took his nephews (and nieces, idk) while Y/N went with her friends as a big Disney fan herself. They met on the line of the INCREDIBLES rollercoaster because his niece liked the loungefly bag Y/N had, again, not the best start.
Henry thought that Y/N was adorable in her Disney bound of Marie from the Aristocats and they kept talking in the line until he made the move to invite her to eat after the ride, to which she obviously said yes to because who the hell would say no. And that’s how it all began.
At Disneyland
“So Y/N, I like your outfit, it’s adorable, Marie?” Henry asked, gesturing at her outfit that consisted of white shorts, a pastel pink top with a pink bow in her hair, wearing a pearl choker with a gold bow charm, and pastel pink platform converse.
“Oh yes, it one of my favorite classic Disney movies. I’m a big fan of Disney. What about you? You have a favorite Disney movie?” Y/N asked.
“I’d have to say Hercules.” Henry answered.
“The music is amazing, and I love Megara. Anyway, what are you working on right now?” Y/N asked.
They were together for the rest of the Disney trip until on of her friends, Valeria, called her to say they’re leaving. Henry asked for her phone number and he called her the next day so they could have their first date.
First date
Y/N went to her closet and chose a White lace top with light blue shorts, nude block heel ankle boots, and her pearl choker again. Henry sent her the address of the coffee shop he wanted to meet at and when he saw her at the door, he thought she looked beautiful.
“Thank you for meeting me here, you look precious.” Henry said.
“Thank you, you look handsome.” Y/N said, sitting down at the table. When they ordered, Y/N ordered a brownie and a strawberry creme frappe for some much needed sugar and Henry ordered a croissant and coffee.
They talked about whatever people talk about on first dates, it went really well until...
"I'll call you later, cutie." Henry said, kissng Y/N on the cheek.
Present day
Y/N was in Henry's living room, wearing glasses, hair in two braids, a cream knit sweater, and shorts with Kal by her side. Henry came through the door after a meeting with his agent.
"Hey, Bunny, you're looking adorable today, how was your day?" Henry asked. 'Bunny' was your nickname because after you sneeze, you would twitch your nose before rubbing your nose with your thumb (guilty), much like a rabbit would.
"My day has been fine, took Kal for a walk, made him one of those frozen treats that are safe for dogs, safe to say he enjoyed them, el muy goloso." Y/N said.
"Thats good to hear." Henry said as he got close enough squish her face. "I love these chubby cheeks of yours, you're so cute." and Henry kissed her and went to pet Kal. "Are you going to stay and eat? I can make my specialty."
"I'd love to but i actually gotta head out." Y/N said, hoping Henry doesn't notice anything wrong with her.
"I can take you, it's no problem at all." Henry said.
"No, no, its fine, you cook whatever, I'll just make something at my apartment." Y/N said and kissed Henry before going to her car. She couldn't take it, she has been called 'cute' one too many times by Henry and to top it off, he mentioned her chubby cheeks, she was a grown woman, there are only so many times a grown woman could be called cute.
She drove to her apartment and began muttering.
"Can't believe he called me adorable." Y/N said, closing the door, putting her bag on the couch. She then saw her reflection in the full body mirror Valeria insisted in getting for their apartment. "No wonder he calls me cute." She observed her hair in braids and took it off, messing up her hair. She took off her glasses to see if that makes anything better - it didn't. Thats when she heard the door open.
"Amiga! No sabes cuanta gente estaban en las tiendas." Valeria said, putting her shopping bags down. "What happened? I thought you were going to be with your superstar boyfriend all day." Valeria said, looking at Y/N who is staring at her reflection.
"Henry called me cute again, y dijo algo sobre yo siendo cachetona." Y/N said.
"But Amiga, I thought you were okay with being called cute." Valeria said.
"I am fine with my family members or my friends calling me cute because I know that. Like I’m not exactly built like a Victoria’s Secret Angel, but I thought that at least my boyfriend of all people would at least find me hot. Clearly Henry doesn't see me that way." Y/N said as she plopped down on the floor.
"Hey, you don't know that." Valeria attempted to comfort her friend.
"He was called me adorable, precious, cute, not even beautiful, and he has never called me sexy." Y/N stated.
"Yeah, I can't argue with that." Valeria said.
"See! Y siendo cachetona no me ayuda. Men call you sexy, how can I be more like you?" Y/N asked. "Agh, I sound like a fucking teenager."
"It's all about confidence." Valeria said but Y/N kept looking at her. "Okay, I love you, you know I do, but you do own a lot of pastel colors in your closet. You can borrow my clothes whenever you're out with Henry, that's a given, but even the way you do your makeup is cute, and I know you hate hearing that."
"You're right, you're right. Okay, show me how to do my makeup so it could look ‘hot’ instead of ‘cute’.” Y/N said and that’s exactly what Valeria did. She gave Y/N a Smokey eye with Fox eyeliner, a darker lipstick, contour so her face looks slimmer, and minimal blush. “I feel ridiculous.” Y/N said.
“That’s because you’re not used to it. Also, if you want to look hotter, you need to straighten your hair. Like that sleek straight look.” Valeria said. “But that’s for the next time you want to see Henry, has he texted you?”
“Mm, no, not yet. Which one of these outfits do you think would look better on me?” Y/N said, opening up Valeria’s closet.
The next day, Y/N was in bed when she got a text from Henry.
Toro: hey Bunny, you want to come over tonight? I’ll cook your favorite.
You: yeah, Torito, I’ll come over, what time?
Toro: 6 sounds fine?
You: yep, sounds good.
Toro: okay, see you later, cutie 😘
“Cutie.” Y/N mocked. She got off her bed and went to Valeria’s closet and took out some things that she believed Henry might like her in. “Valeria, I’m borrowing your clothes!”
“Okay!” Valeria shouted from the shower. “You gonna shower so I can leave the water running for you?”
“Yeah, thank you!” Y/N shouted.
Y/N took a shower, washed her hair really well, shaved, when she finished, she put on lotion, her underwear, and a robe to blowout her hair. She changed and her her robe back on to do her makeup, took off her robe, and put on a perfume Henry bought you. She put on some black heels and a pair of her gold hoop earrings. She went to show Valeria.
“How do I look?” Y/N asked.
“Estás buena.” Valeria said.
“Thank you, let’s hope Henry thinks so.” Y/N said.
She got into her car and drove to Henry’s. She stayed in her car for a few minutes.
“Okay, it’s all good, you look hot, you look sexy, you’re not cute, not adorable, you’re hot.” Y/N said to herself before leaving the car and knocking on Henry’s door. Henry opened it and was in awe of how Y/N looked.
“Wow, Bunny, you look great!” Henry said, hugging her and letting her in the house. “So I’m making the rice now, the chicken is already done.”
“Great. Hola, Osito, how are you, Kal?” Y/N cooed at the fluffy Akita.
“You’re so cute.�� Henry said. Y/N paused for a second.
“Toro, can we talk about something?” Y/N asked.
“Yeah, of course. What’s on your mind, cutie?” Henry asked.
“That.” Y/N pointed at him.
“What do you mean?” Henry asked.
“Okay, I’m going to ask you a serious question and I need you to answer me honestly. Do you find me attractive?” Y/N asked.
“What kind of question is that? Of course I do, you know I think you’re precious to me.” Henry tried to reassure Y/N.
“No no no, not like that, I mena like sexually attractive.” Y/N said.
“I Don’t understand.” Henry said.
“Okay, we’ve met at Disneyland, right? You thought I was cute, that’s understandable because I tried to look as adorable as possible because I was Disney bounding. But the dates after Disney, you kept calling me cute or adorable or precious. Now i grew up getting called cute, my friends and family call me cute, I don’t mind getting called by them. But when my boyfriend calls me cute, someone I’m supposed to feel desired by…I know it’s stupid, and even saying this out loud is stupid, but when I’m dressed like this.” Y/N said, gesturing to her outfit. “And you still call me cute, it feels like you’re not attracted to me the same way I’m attracted to you. So please tell me something before we go any further in our relationship.” Y/N said. Henry was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. He turned off the stove and led Y/N to the living room so they could talk on the couch.
“Y/N, i am very attracted to you.” Henry said, look into her eyes.
“It doesn’t feel like it. Why do you always call me cute though? Why is it never beautiful or gorgeous or even sexy?” Y/N asked
“Because your adorable nature is something I find very sexy.” Henry said leaning in.
“A ver, Toro, i Don’t understand.” Y/N said, leaning back.
“Your aura, your way of presenting yourself, is very innocent and cute. It’s like loving an angel. So I find you very sexy, the way you dress in your pastel colors makes you look so angelic when we both know what’s underneath is down right sinful. You are so bloody tempting that I call you cute to hold myself back from doing what I really want to do to you.” Henry said.
“Who knew the great Henry Cavill has a innocence kink.” Y/N giggled a little.
“Yeah yeah, tease all you want, bunny. But do you understand what I’m telling you?” Henry grabbed her chin to tilted her head so she’s looking in his eyes. “You are very sexy, I find your cuteness very sexy. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t desired because you are, I desire you every night.” Henry said and they kissed. “You feel better now, bunny?”
“Yeah I’m fine. Thank you, Toro.” Y/N said. “So…when did you first think I was sexy?” Y/N asked and Henry chuckled.
“Alright, let’s eat first and then we’ll discuss that, Bunny.” Henry said, leading Y/N to the kitchen.
The End
So Henry’s nickname is “Toro” which means “bull” because he’s a Taurus and of course really strong like a bull.
Taglist: @warriormirkwood
#hispanic reader#latina#hispanic#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill#henry cavil x y/n#henry cavill fic#henry cavill fanfiction
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II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy
Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)
Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?
Read at your own risk. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N: This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Previous part here
-----------------
May 2024
“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”
When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.
“Butter-”
You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.
—---
Get out (LEAVE!)
Right now
It’s the end of you and me
It’s too late (NOW!)
And I can’t wait
For you to be gone…
Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.
“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”
You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.
How could everything still hurt this much?
Carla wasn’t having it.
“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”
Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.
You sighed.
“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.
“I just… Can’t…”
“So what just happened?”
Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.
“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”
“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”
Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.
“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”
“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”
You interrupted Carla.
“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”
“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”
You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.
But why? And what did it matter now?
“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”
“I don’t have to do-”
Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:
“Teen drinking is very bad.”
Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:
“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”
The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.
One, here comes the two to the three to the four
Everybody drunk out on the dance floor
Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more
Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...
…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.
This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.
—-----
Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance.
Tonight was the night.
And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.
When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.
Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.
He wanted to fight with you.
And he wanted to make it up to you.
His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.
—---
You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.
I'd sure hate to break down here
Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror
Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin'
I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin'
So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow
Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now
You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.
Just like it did 20 years earlier.
—---
May 2004
On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,
“You look amazing.”
You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.
Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.
You were caught up.
Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.
In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.
And Sy was right there with you.
“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.”
He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.
“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”
Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.
You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.
“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”
You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.
“You’re right.”
Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you.
“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”
You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.
“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”
You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear.
Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.
“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”
You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.
“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”
You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.
You gasped.
“Sy!”
You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.
Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife.
“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”
Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together.
You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him.
“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.”
That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.
Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.
“What are you doing Sy….?”
All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.
“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.”
He kissed your hand again.
“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.”
Those eyes held you in a trance.
“But one day, we won't be.”
“Oh, Sy…”
“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”
And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.
—-
May 2024
I made it this far without cryin' a single tear
An' I'd sure hate to break down here
Oh, no
It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say.
Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.
Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.
“You still wanna talk, Sy?”
Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke.
“Ye– yeah.”
Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.
You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco.
But he didn’t let go of your hand.
You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.
“So where we goin’, Sy?”
Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man.
This huge, handsome, hairy man.
“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”
What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.
Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.
“Hm.”
Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go.
And he didn’t.
“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”
Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.
But you were grown now.
And so was Sy.
Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.
“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”
“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”
Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.
“I bet she missed you.”
Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, Sy.”
Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now.
“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.”
Your cheeks heated at the compliment.
“Ok, Captain.”
Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you.
He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.
When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.
Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.
—---
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Next part Here
#henry cavill#henry cavil x reader#henry cavill fanfiction#captain syverson#captain sy x reader#captain syverson fanfiction#syverson fanfiction#syverson x reader#syverson smut#captain syverson smut#syverson au#captain syverson au#syverson x black!reader#captain syverson x black!reader#syverson angst#captain syverson angst#syverson imagine#captain syverson imagine#ii most wanted#II most wanted fic#henry cavill smut#Sy x Buttercup#am writing#writeblr#creative writing#Spotify
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