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feyhunter78 · 2 months ago

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Three Times Buck Wanted to Sleep with You (and the One Time He Did)

Description: Three times Buck had to hold himself back and the one time he didn't, (but it's not what he thinks, and somehow maybe better?)

Part 2!

Buck is pretty sure if he ever slept with you, Maddie would kill him, though she’d have to dig him up first because Hen would put him six feet under before he could even blink. So, he tries very hard to not sleep with you, and he’ll admit as the year has gone by and the two of you have gotten closer it’s gotten easier. He finds himself craving the sound of you laughing at his dumb jokes, your comforting presence next to him in the kitchen, or even just you bossing him around, more than he craves the feeling of your skin against his.

More than the idea of how good you’d look lying in his sheets, wearing nothing but his jacket. But then you do something. Squeeze his thigh in an innocent, friendly way. Groan his name in annoyance, or pout up at him when you’re trying to get your way, and the urges return full force, leaving him wondering if he can claw himself out of the grave Hen will put him in.

One: It’s only been a few months into his job, he's bouncing back from Bobby's second warning and forgivenss, riding high on the adrenaline. He’s only known you for six months and honestly Buck thinks he might be cursed, or maybe you’re secretly trying to make him suffer.

It's one of the two because he's pulled away from picking the perfect song to start his drive with by you banging on the driver’s side window of his jeep wearing nothing but a bikini top and incredibly short shorts. He rolls down the window, swallowing hard as you cross your arms over your chest, unintentionally pushing your breasts up.

“Buck, are you serious? You can’t just drive off without me.” You huff, adjusting the beach bag on your shoulder. You’re standing on the sidestep of his jeep, and it puts him face to chest with you.

“Oh I, uh, I thought you were going with Hen?” Buck says, trying not to stumble over his words like an idiot.

You look so good, it’s unfair, and that bathing suit top is cute, too cute for the way it makes his mouth water. It’s pink with white hearts all over it, your hair is pulled back, oversized sunglasses rest on your nose, your beach bag has some cartoon drawing of a margarita wearing sunglasses on it. But the worst part, the worst, are the light wash denim shorts clinging to your thighs. Fuck, he just wants to grab them, wear them like earmuffs until you’re trembling in his grip, and he’s drank his fill.

You shake your head, and lean on his windowsill, the scent of your perfume, or maybe that’s just what your skin smells like, suddenly overwhelming his senses, scattering any coherent thought he might have had. “She said there wasn’t enough room, Danny wanted to bring a friend with him. Didn’t she text you?”

Hen probably had, but he’s been so focused on psyching himself up to go to the beach with everyone, including you—without begging you to let him fuck you in a changing room—that he hasn’t even checked his messages.

“Yeah, probably, just been busy. Hop in.” He unlocks the passenger side door, giving into his impulses just enough to watch as you round the car, his dark sunglasses hiding the way he traces your every curve with his eyes.

You smile as you slide into the seat and buckle yourself in. “Okay, let’s go, beach time!” Your voice has a singsong tone, and it makes his heart melt.

“Beach time.” He echoes, turning the radio on to drown out the voice in his head urging him to ask if you want to take a detour to his backseat.

Two: It’s his birthday, and while the crew has made a big deal out of it, he doesn’t expect you to. Doesn’t expect you to be at his door with a cake, singing happy birthday, surprisingly well. The candles are lighting up your face in such a way that he feels like he’s in a movie, and everything is zooming in on you, only you, like he’s got tunnel vision, and you’re at the end of it.

“Make a wish!” You cheer, leaning on his kitchen counter, the cake between you two.

He bends down and blows, watching the flames flicker out in an instance, small whips of smoke rising then dissipating into the air.

“Twenty-six, it’s a big number, feel any different?” You ask, looking at him over the cake with your stupidly beautiful eyes that shine with genuine curiosity.

He cuts a slice of cake for you and then himself, putting them on paper plates and sliding yours across to you.

You catch it, and thank him, waiting for him to take a bite, or answer, probably answer.

“Not at all.” He says, taking a bite of the cake for good measure.

You laugh, “I doubt I’ll feel any different on my birthday either.”

“It’s in a few months, right?”

You nod, and take a bite of your own, moaning softly. “Oh, wow, okay, this cake is really good.”

Your moan goes straight to his cock, and he’s glad the island is between you two, blocking your view.

“Yeah, yeah it’s great, thanks again, you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

You lean on your elbow, giving him an incredulous look. “Of course I did, it’s your birthday and come on you’re like the first real friend—no wait that’s Hen, the first person to look out for—no that’s Athena, you’re a nice gu—wait that sounds bad.” You cover your face with your hands, laughing embarrassedly. “Let me start over.”

He laughs and takes another bite of his cake; it is pretty good. “Go for it.”

“Of course I did, Buck, not just because it’s your birthday, but because I wanted to. I wanted to celebrate you, and thank you for going out of your way for me when I first moved here and for changing the batteries in my smoke alarm and making me laugh when my dates end up sucking, and just being a good guy, that I can trust and count on.”

His heart is pounding in his chest, and his pants are growing tight. You haven’t said anything he hasn’t heard before more or less; you haven’t even said anything technically hot, but somehow, it’s different, it means more, has more layers when you say it. He pinches himself and tries to think about safe, nonsexual things, old books, his grandma, cleaning mud off the truck, white bread, cake, your little moan when you tasted the cake—nope, nope something else, think of something else.

You peek at him through your hands when he doesn’t say anything. “Sorry, that was cheesy, wasn’t it?”

He wants to say, no it was perfect, can you say it again while you ride me? Also, I think I do need to see a therapist because I’m pretty sure I’m getting turned on by emotional intimacy and that’s a new revelation for me. But he doesn’t, instead he skewers another bite of cake on his fork and gives you a teasing smile. “Yeah, a little bit.”

You pout up at him. “Rude.”

He bites his tongue to keep from bending to your will and bending you over the island, instead pointing out with a shrug. “You asked.”

You roll your eyes and take another bite of cake. "I take back every nice thing I said."

Three: He’s tasked with driving over to Athena’s precinct to pick you up. It’s not something he’s ever done before, but Hen slaps him on the shoulder and tells him to get there ASAP before someone gets hurt. He’s not worried about you, Hen made it clear you’re not in any danger, just that it was going to take more than Athena’s stern words to get you to stand down. He’s actually curious, you’re not one to cause a scene or argue with Athena unless you really thought she was wrong, and he’s seen that happen maybe twice?

Buck hates to admit it, but the scene he walks in on…turns him on.

“You know what? You’re just a greedy hack who preys on the hopes and fears of poor, innocent people. You want my professional opinion? You can go fuck yourself.” You snarl, holding your head high as you glare at some white dude with a tarot card tattoo crawling up his forearm, and a feather earring.

“Dr. Y/L/N, please, I have to ask you and Mr. Chester to leave.” Athena says calmly, jerking her head towards you when she sees Buck.

“No, I’m sorry, Sergeant Grant, but I can’t walk away when this conman is trying to ply your victims with false hope.” Your arms down by your side, fingers flexing ever so slightly, and you’re tense like you’re going to lunge at the dude.

“Conman? You’re a psychologist, we all know psychology is fake,” Chester scoffs.

Buck rolls his shoulders back; this is not going to be good.

You laugh, high-pitched and mocking. “Fake? Fake? You’re the fake. Fake as that earring, and your claims of studying with shamans in the desert. Newsflash asshole, I looked you up. All you’ve got is a clip-on earring and an arrest for public intoxication from when you and your little business major buddies did ayahuasca on the Santa Monica pier.”

Buck stifles a laugh, and Athena glares at him, urging him forward. He does as she silently asks and makes his way to you, raising an eyebrow when his eyes meet yours.

“You can't understand my vision quest, you weren’t there,” Chester shoots back.

You laugh again, and Buck thinks maybe it’ll be okay, but then you snatch Chester’s earring from his ear and throw it to the floor, the plastic clip breaking off and skittering across the floor. “This man is a fraud, ladies and gentlem—”

“Yeah, okay, time to go y/n.” Buck says, as he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder, large hands keeping you secure as you try to wriggle out of his hold.

“Don’t listen to this charlatan, trust the good men and women of the LAPD they will help you, not some hack psychic!” You continue, and Buck can all but feel your eyes burning a hole in Chester as he carries you out of the station.

“Charlatan? What is this, the eighteen hundreds?” Buck snorts, his hands warm where they hold you, his skin tingling at the points of contact. You weigh nothing to him; it’s like holding a pillow, and the thought of how easy it would be to toss you onto his bed makes him bite down on his tongue.

“Shut up. That guy comes in all the time and promises the world, but he never delivers. I hate people like him, who take advantage of the vulnerable, it’s just not right.” You grumble, as he keeps one arm pressed against your legs while opening his car door for you with his free hand.

He gently sets you in the seat and buckles you in. “It’s not, but you can’t just try to fistfight him in the middle of a police station.”

You roll your eyes and smooth down your hair in the visor mirror. “I wasn’t going to fistfight him, I’m not crazy.”

“Sure, you weren’t.”

“Just drive.” You snap, turning away from him to look out the window.

“Someone’s a little bossy.” He jokes, putting his jeep into reverse.

You turn away from the window, fire in your eyes. “You wanna see bossy, I’ll show you bossy.”

Fuck, he wishes you would. He’d love to see you riled up and demanding, your nails scraping against his scalp as you yank his head forward.

“Maybe later.” He says, switching gears and driving away from the station.

The one time: Buck rubs his eyes, groaning as he blindly reaches for his vibrating phone, it’s two in the morning, he just got home from a double shift, somebody better be dead or dying. He winces at the brightness of his screen and scans the multitude of messages, but it’s the most recent one that catches his attention.

Y/N: Need yuo come over?????!!??

He rubs his eyes harder, there’s no way you texted him that. No damn way.

Y/N: Buck

Y/N: Evan Bucckely

Y/N: Come obrr

He sits up, dragging a hand down his face. Maybe you’re drunk? You’re usually a stickler for proper spelling and grammar. He goes to text back asking that very question when a voice message pops up. He turns up his sound and presses play.

“Buck please, you gotta come here, I need your help, I can’t do it by myself.” You whine, and all his blood runs south.

“Fuck.” He groans, trying to force himself to think about anything but what you might have looked like as you recorded that message.

“I need your skilled hands, mine just aren’t working.” You continue, and he bites down on his fist, all exhaustion banished. You sound so pretty, so desperate, so adorably needy, how can he ignore you, ignore your request?

He sends a quick text swearing he’ll be over in two minutes.

As he pulls on a t-shirt and sweatpants, he remembers how he thought it was a curse that you two lived in the same apartment complex. But now as he walks over, swinging his keys around his finger, he’s unbelievably glad.

Buck knocks on your door, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. Hey, he gave it a good run, a solid year of holding himself back and not sleeping with you. But when you’re asking him directly, he's not going to say no. It would be rude to deny you something you so clearly need.

You pull the door open and grab him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to the couch and plopping down before placing your high-heeled feet in his lap.

“Well, hello to you too.” He says, resting his hand on your shin, admiring the smoothness of your skin. You definitely went out, the heels, the tight black dress, the makeup, you look stunning, and he’s practically salivating.

“I can’t get them off.” You pout, tugging uselessly at the straps of your heels.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” He purrs, unbuckling one heel then the other before caressing your skin, his hands sliding higher until he grips your thighs.

Your eyes are slightly glassy, and you’re wearing the biggest, most adoring smile he’s ever seen as you sway in your spot. “You’re amazing, my hero.”

“How much you have to drink tonight, Y/N?” Buck asks, his training kicking in despite the lust that rages beneath his skin.

You clamor into his lap, looping your arms around his neck, the fabric of your dress riding up your plush thighs as you straddle him. “Buck, I thought you were a firefighter, not a cop.”

He chuckles and smoothes his hands down your side. “I am a firefighter, but I can also see you’ve been drinking.”

“Just a little bit.” You say, holding up one hand and pinching your fingers to show him how little you’ve had to drink. It would maybe be believable if you didn’t nearly lose your balance in the process.

“Oh yeah?” He hums, raising an eyebrow at you.

Your breath audibly catches in your throat, and you nod, “yeah.”

“Well, that’s too bad because I feel like you maybe had a lot to drink.”

You pout at him, and he bites his tongue to keep himself steady. You’re drunk, way too drunk, he’s not that kind of guy, he’s not going to take advantage of you no matter how badly he’s wanted this.

“Maybe a bit more than a little, but we were celebrating, and I haven’t gone out drinking in forever.” You stretch out the word forever, giving Buck a bright smile when he pats your outer thigh.

“Why don’t I help you get into bed, huh?”

You start to nod but stop yourself, the light dimming in your eyes as you begin to mumble to yourself.

Buck thinks he catches the words, but Maddie and places his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey, just to sleep, nothing else. You need to rest and let your body process all that alcohol.”

You nod, slide off him and onto the couch, laying back onto the cushions, your eyes already closing.

“Whoa, hey, not here, and not with your makeup still on.” He says, gently trying to get you to your feet.

“Too tired, carry me?” You ask so sweetly, he’s pretty sure he’d spend the rest of his life carrying you if you asked him to.

“Alright, come on, but you have to keep your eyes open, okay?” Buck says, slipping his arms underneath your form and lifting you from the couch.

“Okay, I promise…I will try.” You say, curling into him, resting your head on his chest.

That’s the best he’s going to get, judging by the way your breathing begins to even out, and your grip on his shirt loosens.

Now, if he spends some time gently cleaning the makeup from your face and waking you briefly so you can change into pajamas before carrying you to your bed, then no one needs to know that.

And if he stays by your side definitely because he’s worried about how hungover you’ll be tomorrow and definitely not because you sleepily insist, and he can’t resist you, that’s no one’s business.

And if he falls asleep in your bed with your head on his chest and his arm around your waist, his chest feeling weird, like he’s got butterflies or heartburn, then no one needs to know that either. He’ll just take the best sleep he’s had in a long time and deal with the consequences later.

No lie I have a whole /reader profile created for this man, just waiting to be unleashed

#Fuck it uhhhh have a mix of fluff and spice #meg's writing #evan buck buckley #evan buckley x reader #buck x reader #buck buckley #buck 911 #911onfox #911 tv show #911 fox #911 fanfic

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vrystalius · 5 months ago

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How would the Hashira + Upper moons react to their S/O reader kissing them during an argument (it's up to you what the argument is about but i was thinking maybe they were jealous bc she was way too nice to someone else) Like i can imagine them being angry and when they confront her she just kisses them and says a small "Sorry" they can't help but forgive her right?

The Upper Moons getting kissed during a fight

You kiss the Upper Moons during a fight. How will they react?

Pairing: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x reader

Note: Sorry for doing it a little differently, I only realised just now that I kind of misunderstood the ask. I’m planning on doing a version for the hashira as well where I will write it more accurately!

(Slight angst, arguments)

Kokushibo

Your arguments are more like debates and discussions rather than screaming. Somehow, Kokushibo demolishes you everytime. He delivers one argument after another, every single word was planned out to make you feel like you’re in the wrong everytime. You’re kind of starting to get sick of feeling stupid by him using terms you’ve never heard of. He has an unfair advantage of being alive for hundreds of years and having six piercing eyes that make you doubt your own ability to think.

This time, you’re prepared. You pulled Kokushibo in by his yukata. Your lips crashed onto his and all of his eyes widened. His jaw locked as you caressed his collarbone while his lips loved against yours for a moment. After pulling away, he became quiet for a moment, as if thinking, before speaking up.

“You use very dirty tricks. I will use them myself in the future.”

Douma

Douma is incredibly pouty and bored during your arguments. He mostly listens while you talk, only trying to tease you into becoming even angrier every now and then. After you went on and on for minutes on why he should stop having his meals inside your bedrooms, he again grew bored. At first, Douma just checked out his nails and picked on some loose skin while listening. After you went from complaining about eating his bloody meals in the bedroom over to how you don’t wanna sit on his lap during his sermons anymore, he began to zone out. Your lips look so soft while you talk. His rainbow eyes were locked with them, dreaming of pulling you close and just shutting you up with a kiss. Yes, that’s a good idea.

While you rambled on and on, Douma grabbed you by your arm and crashed his lips onto yours. He hungrily nibbled on your lower lip while giggling quietly.

“Did I distract you? My apologies, go on! I’m listening, I swear!… What’s with that look, huh?”

Akaza

He gets nervous when you two have an argument. Akaza tries his best not to get too angry and to lash out at you. He doesn’t want to scare you, or even worse, to hurt you in any way. But sometimes, you make it really hard for him to keep his cool. To him, your irritated face and words are the equivalent of the sun hitting his skin. His fists are clenching while he tries to listen properly, but he can’t concentrate. Akaza is trying not to threaten or yell back at you to be able to listsn to your talking properly.

You noticed how hard your boyfriend was trying not to be aggressive towards you and how hard Akaza was concentrating. You sighed and crossed your arms across your chest, watching how his lower lip was quivering. You can’t help but grow softer at the sight. Your hands cupped his cold cheeks as you pulled him closer, placing a kiss on his lips to reassure him that you still love him. You saw how quickly Akaza’s face softened up after your kiss. He let out a soft sigh and placed your hands into his palm.

“Sorry for being like this all the time. I’ll… try to be better. Can I have another kiss though?”

💠

I think Muzan would just continue to ramble on after kissing him, probably even taking offence that you have the audacity to interrupt him during his speech. Also, I really wanna write about cuddles and sleep lately, but I’ll try to restrain myself XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

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crumbledcastle28 · 2 months ago

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Din Djarin: Creaky

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no use of pronouns or y/n)

Summary: You give Din his first kiss.

The air filled with what sounded like the hissing of steam, but you knew it was not. You felt the weight of the helmet dip into the bed near your still locked hands.

You exhaled shakily. “Okay?”

Din’s raw, unfiltered voice hit your ears for the first time. “Okay.”

Warnings: talkative, nervous reader, kissing, sensuality but nothing overtly sexual, Din's mouth doesn't talk much, but his body sure does.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I guess my role on tumblr is to disappear until dincember. For the second year in a row, this is dedicated to @dindjarindiaries and their incredible dincember works.

If you would like to leave a like, comment, ask, reblog, or comment, it would be much appreciated <3

Din Works (and some more Pedro characters as well if you're interested)

My Masterlist

“This is…actually better than I expected.”

There was a chuckle from Din’s modulator as you jostled yourself up and down on his cot. He shut the door to his cabin which, given the Crest’s size, was not the word you would use to describe the small bedroom.

“Much more bouncy.”

You were filling the air with words that meant nothing. But that really wasn’t their purpose, was it? To mean anything?

No. They were meant to cut through the wool-thick ineptitude that both you and Din had in this moment. More so you, if you were being perfectly honest.

“You’re telling me you’ve never kissed anyone? Ever?”

Silence. “Never.”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t found a person I trust enough.”

“Do you trust me?”

You didn’t think he would actually say yes.

“A little creaky,” you continued on, “but, eh, it’s better than sleeping on the floor. I still don’t think I needed that new mattress before you did, though. Can’t believe you used all the credits from your last job for that. I mean, we have a baby alien with a rag for clothing. You don’t think there could have been better uses –”

Din sat next to you and placed a palm onto your hand.

“This becomes you.”

“Well I don’t know. Din,” you said, frustrated. “I’ve never…been someone’s first kiss. Well, maybe I have, but I didn’t know it. It isn’t really something one plans out like this –”

He squeezed onto the hand he held. You fluttered your eyes shut.

“Sorry,” you said with a laugh. “Sorry. I really shouldn’t be the nervous one here. Not that you should be nervous – you really shouldn’t – it’s easy! It’s, I guess, natural? Like – your body kind of figures out what to do once you – well, once you –”

The room being shed of any semblance of light was Din’s answer. You sighed.

“Sorry.”

He made no response.

“Since when did you install a remote into your armor for the lights in this room specifically?”

The air filled with what sounded like the hissing of steam, but you knew it was not. You felt the weight of the helmet dip into the bed near your still locked hands.

You exhaled shakily. “Okay?”

Din’s raw, unfiltered voice hit your ears for the first time. “Okay.”

You scooted closer to him, feeling the heat from his body already. He had been wearing no armor besides the helmet, left only in a thin undershirt and pants. You were careful with how close you moved – you had no idea where his face was in relation to yours, and bumping chins or foreheads or noses at that moment would have been simply…

the worst.

“Okay,” you whispered. He smelled really, really good up close. “I’m – I’m going to touch your face. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Was that a quiver you detected in his voice?

He had a beard – not too long, but not stubble either. Thick and…trimmed. It would only make sense. He never spent long in the bathroom. You worked your hands up his soft skin. Into silky, moused hair. You weaved it through your fingertips, drifting forward in your pursuit to memorize the waves’ lenity –

Which led you to, in fact, bump noses.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to…”

You inhaled through your nose, stopping yourself. You then placed your hands on his cheeks, using your left thumb to search for his lips. You found them already parted, exhaling deep, hot puffs of air.

“I’m…” you licked your lips, edging closer so cautiously the back of your neck began to ache. “Okay?” you whispered.

Din’s reply was a nod of his head. You felt the motion through the brush of his nose against the crevice between your own nose and cheek.

“Okay,” you replied, so quiet you didn’t even know if you said it aloud.

You moved forward and slotted your lips over his for barely two seconds. You pulled away.

It was too quick. You didn’t get to know if his lips were as soft and pillowed as you imagined them to be. You wanted to know if you were right. You wanted more.

“Okay?” you said.

Din sounded…breathless in his reply. Husky and deep. “Okay.”

You leaned in again. Pressed your lips over his. Moved them slightly.

You smiled against his mouth. You were right.

You kept up that motion for about thirty seconds – kissing either the bottom or top of Din’s soft, pillowed lips, feeling as he almost immediately understood the motion of it. The rhythm. The tenacity. He was so gentle with it – hesitant. You tried to propel him with your mouth – pull it ever so closer to yours by his cheeks. You pulled away with another smile.

“See? I told you it was easy.”

You could hear his breaths now. You waited for him to say something. Anything.

Maker, were you bad?

“Okay,” you said, dropping your hands from his cheeks, “well… you have officially been kissed, Din Djarin. If you need to take a walk. Take a shower. Go off to an abandoned planet and think about this experience, don’t worry, that’s totally nor –”

He surged you forward by the back of your neck like he needed you to breathe.

Once your brain allowed you to process the fever in which he was pressing his lips against yours, you reciprocated like you needed him the same.

His fingers gathered into your hair, into your scalp, and yours did the same to his.

He was not hesitant now – he was in. Pushing against your mouth like he had been doing this for years.

You had a feeling he would be a fast learner.

You drifted your hands down to his chest, running them up and down from his stomach back up to his throat. His seemed perfectly happy where they were.

You could have boiled alive in his lips kissing the bottom and top of yours as much as he possibly could, but you wanted.

Oh you wanted.

You slipped your tongue between the seam of his lips – barely an inch between them – and he opened for you like clouds open for rain; fully, and without indecision.

You brought your hands back up to his face – one covering his left cheek, the other the back of his skull – and positioned his face for your tongue to enter his mouth fully.

And he groaned.

You kissed him – really kissed him – just like that for a few moments, before pulling away, and trailing kisses across his jawline.

“Why…” he began. You paused. “Why did you not suggest this months ago? Years ago?”

You chuckled. “You’re a scary guy.” You traced your tongue down the tendons in his neck.

He liked your tongue.

He brought a hand up to your waist, giving it a squeeze. “Maker.”

You smiled again, trailing a hand over to his collarbone, across it, down his arm, gripping onto his bicep. His arms had always been your favorite.

You both released a similar noise at the squeeze.

“Knew you’d like that,” he said, pulling you away from his neck to kiss you on the mouth. He wrapped his right arm around your waist completely, pulling you into his lap, the entire bed creaking at the motion.

You knew he was flexing his arm purposely as he made this move. It was the entire reason he pulled you into him the way he did.

But maker if you didn’t let his want to impress you – to make you want him – seep into your very bones, and moan into his mouth at the feeling.

He kept you like that for a few more moments. On his lap, his big arm wrapped around you while the other hand framed your face and pushed back your hair as he kissed and kissed and kissed you. Like this, he was surrounding you. All encompassing.

You smiled as his tongue entered your mouth – at how much he had become in your eyes, how deeply you never wanted to leave.

You felt him smile too.

Tag list: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

@burned-dorito, @tiredbuthappyppy @em---r @just-a-sewer-goblinlin @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanprideerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkylee @stardust-galaxies @c4psicle @joelsflannell @mysun-n-stars@tateelii @darth-voder @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgothh @thesmutslut @alastorhazbinbin @grincheveryday @reader8679 @cockscombkingdom

@lexloon @pauphs @enjoyyourlatttebitch

@miss-goldenweek

@darling-murdockk @1deadpool266 @queen-nothing-blogg @burnt-dorito @untitledareaa @julialoopeezz @daphne-turner @jediknightjanaa @sasakipspoststs

#dincember 2024 #dincember #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #dinner #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandolorian x reader

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askinkiskarma · 2 years ago

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This one is a bit smutty...Just a little lol. But !

Okay ! Imagine Neteyam being passed the title as the new olo'eyktan (Just to say that I have no idea when it is done. Like at a certain age or if mate is preg ? I don't know :P)

Him being very very stressed and all. So... they haven't been doing it for a moment (He's not really it the mood). And like one time, in the middle of the night he wakes up with a huge and hard one (He tries to ignore it but of course it doesn't work). He's like really needy and desperate to relief himself but for some reason he refuses to do it alone. Shortly after his mate wakes up because she feels him moving on the mat and hears muffled breathings (panting). And the rest is up to you !

It's kinda kinky haha :× Some slight subby Nete and maybe soft dom in the end :3

Anyways have sweet dreams tonight 💕🌌😴🌙And love your writing ! Muah*

this kinda got away from me hahahah

thank you bby, i really loved this actually! hope you enjoy x

wc: 1.8k words

warnings: smut (p in v, oral - m receiving, squirting, switch!Neteyam, overstimulation, choking) 18+ minors DNI

After some 20 years of incredible rule, it was finally time for Jake to step down as Olo'eyktan. It wasn't that he wasn't capable of going on, it was that it was more and more obvious by the day that Neteyam was ready. He was ready to step in his father's shoes, he was ready to fulfil the destiny that he was born into, that he had worked for tirelessly, every day of his 20 year long life. His father had no doubt in his mind that he would be the best clan leader the Omatikaya had ever seen, a sentiment shared among most of the villagers.

You were incredibly proud of your mate. He was the youngest Olo'eyktan the Omatikaya ever had, and he was more than raising to the challenge. It was an honour to be his mate, it was a privilege watching him be the person you always knew he was, the leader everyone had reason to look up to, the man of your dreams.

Unfortunately, the praise, the title and the status also came with so much burden, so much stress and responsibility, it was hard for either of you to keep up, hard for him to navigate, to find a balance. So recently, Neteyam has been distant and withdrawn, burying himself in work and strategies, being the first one to rise and the last one to sleep. He wanted to be a good leader, and he believed that a good leader should be an example for his people, should be the one that works the hardest, should be the one that continuously strives to be better and do better for his clan.

You barely saw him anymore, much less spent time with him, felt him, touched him, had him. You refused to intervene, though. Neteyam was a well of depth sometimes even you weren't capable enough to swim in, and you knew that when he was ready to talk to you, to let you in, he would. He always did, eventually. He just needed time.

Neteyam was exhausted. Turns out he owed his dad a million apologies for all the times he thought him cold, or unwieldy, or detached from reality or his family. Turns out he was just worried, and stressed and feeling the overbearing weight of so many lives depending on him to lead, to choose, to make the best decisions, and that was no easy task. Neteyam missed you. He felt guilt and sadness enwrap him tightly at the thought. He's always had time for you. You were his priority always, and yet he knew he didn't make good on that recently.

You have always been so in love with each other, so obsessed with each other, so into each other that the rest of the world felt middling and insignificant by comparison. Neteyam could pinpoint the stars in the sky in your eyes, the thrill of tumultuous waters in the colour of your skin, the bioluminescent beauty of Pandora in your eyes, the transcending comfort of the earth in the colour and feel of your hair. You were his world. You encapsulated everything he loved about it, about life, and he loved you, he needed you, he craved you more than he'd ever be able to describe.

The thought of you as he drifted off to sleep led him to dream about you, his mind transposing him to a reality he desired desperately, but which time didn't allow at the moment. He felt you, your taut, lean body writhing underneath him as his hands trailed it hungrily, as his lips claimed your mouth, as he took orgasm after orgasm, the lewd sounds escaping you music to his ears. The dream dissipated slowly, much to his disappointment, leaving him a panting mess, his cock twitching, hurting against his now too-tight loincloth.

"Fuck."

You were fast asleep in Neteyam's arms, your soft, steady breaths the only thing that could be heard in your shared tent. Your ass was pressed snugly against Neteyam's groin, furthering his pain and incessant need to just take you and fuck you until you both passed out in exhaustion, blissfully spent.

The sound of quiet moans woke you up from your dream-filled slumber, wet dreams haunting your mind recently, the only way you got to experience the release you needed desperately. Your eyes widened slightly when you realised the dream spilled onto your reality, and the sounds came from your mate, who seemed like he was in pain. You turned around hurriedly, only to find him sprawled on his back, long slender fingers wrapped around his thick length. The heat you felt within your womb spread like wildfire all within you, awakening your senses and focusing them on him, on his beautiful face contorted in pain, on his pheromones that inundated your nostrils, on the way the pronounced veins running down his arm were more accentuated with the grip he had on his cock, and God, what an incredible sight that was. Your mouth filled with saliva taking it all in, at the memories of all the times his dick made you see stars, at the thought of how he would again tonight, after so long of being without it. He was a god among men, and you had him. You owned him. Maybe it was time he was reminded of it.

"Neteyam... if you needed help, all you had to do was ask."

His moans increased in volume as you wrapped your fingers around him and started pumping him with slow, languid motions. He was rock hard under your touch, white liquid pooling at the tip, and you couldn't help but accept the silent invitation, bringing your lips to it and kissing him softly, throbbing deep inside of you at the way he was coming apart at the seams around you.

"Baby, please..."

"Patience, my love."

You took as much of his impressive length in your mouth as you could, feeling him deep in your throat, eyes watering as the pressure made you gag slightly. You started a slow, purposeful bob of your head, taking your time, feeling every vein, every ridge, every striation of his cock, learning him by heart, imprinting him in your mind. You loved this man, and as much as you loved when he rutted into you like an animal in heat, there was nothing that compared to the thrill of the power that came with seeing him putty in your hands, in your mouth, in you. As the ache you felt continued to rear its ugly head, you let go of him with a small pop and straddled his thighs, aligning yourself easily and rubbing his tip in between your soaked folds, moaning at the contact, craving the way he filled you up in the way only he ever could.

Your synced gasps made your cunt clench around him as you lowered yourself slowly, until you bottomed out, until you could feel him deep in you, so deep that a small bump was formed in your abdomen, that you revelled at, that you wanted him to. You took his hand in yours and placed his palm on the spot, moaning at you started grinding on him leisurely.

"Feel that, my love? Feel how deep in me you are, how good you fill me up? I feel your cock in my guts, baby."

You felt the growl he released deep in your soul, its intensity leaving you breathless, and you allowed the feeling to overtake you, as the atmosphere in the room changed suddenly, and so did his demeanour. Your words snapped something in him, because his eyes darkened so much, you could barely see any discernable yellow in them anymore, and you barely registered the way he grabbed you roughly and flipped you until you were on your back, his cock still buried inside you. You gasped loudly at the way your body made contact with the ground and at his look, feral and untamed, and it would have scared you if it wasn't so fucking hot, so primal and raw, so erotic and so, so necessary. His hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed until there was no air in your lungs anymore, until your head went dizzy, until your insides churned in need.

"You make me fucking crazy. How did I go so long without your tight little cunt wrapped around my cock, huh?"

Without warning, he starts a ruthless pace, knocking you back with every animalistic thrust, keeping you in place roughly by your throat, until your cervix was battered and bruised, until you came around him once, twice, three times. You were crying from overstimulation, from the high of the intermittent asphyxiation, from how his brutal actions were antithetic to his gentle caress of your cheek or the occasional peck on the forehead in between orgasms.

"Neteyam, I can't anymore -"

"Yes, you can, my love. One more. Just one more and then you can sleep. You're doing so well for me, baby."

He brought a hand to your thighs, bringing them over his shoulders and the new angle was allowing him to drag his cock on your G-spot repeatedly, making your vision blurry and your core throb yet again, the familiar feeling pooling in you once more, more acute than any of the previous. His thumb was circling your clit, and the pressure was too much, it was so good, it was heaven and hell, it was everything and not enough.

"There you go, baby, I can feel you squeezing my cock again. You gonna milk me? You gonna be a good girl and take my cum, let me fill this pretty pussy up? Gonna smell like me for a whole week, huh?"

"Y-yes, fuck yeah!"

"You like having my cum drip down your thighs for all the village to see, huh? Like everybody knowing you're getting fucked by the Olo'eyktan?"

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at his words and you squirted all over your mate as the most intense orgasm you've ever had in your life washed over you, leaving you convulsing around him until your body was limp and your mind blank. He came with a moan, ropes of thick cum painting your pink walls and spilling down your ass and onto the fabric of your mat. He didn't pull out, not for a long time, collapsing on top of you instead, kissing your face and down your neck softly, like a whisper or warm hug. You loved how he was the best of both worlds, how he cherished you, how he always made sure you were ok, how he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, about how amazing you were, about how well you did for him, how you were his world and his brightest star, the love of his life, the best thing that has ever happened to him.

You were both spent and on the brink of sleep when you spoke serenely.

"So... did you only want to become Olo'eyktan so you can use that line on me or...?"

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mistriavalley · 3 months ago

Text

Alex is down bad for you (gn!farmer)

Note: Got this idea from @sagegotthesauce

TW: none

Masterlist

Alex is handsome, tall and strong and can be incredibly charming when he wants to. So obviously he thought it would be an easy thing to leave an especially good first impression on the hot new farmer when they walked over to introduce themselves. Just that it wasn't easy at all.

"You're the new-? Cool. Yeah. Alex." Wait what the fuck was that? Why the fuck did his breath get caught in his throat when he tried to speak to you? Maybe next time he will do better

His strength is...well, his strength. It's an important asset of his so naturally he tries to catch your attention by lifting weights infront of his house. He sees you by Pierre's or close to the Saloon? The dumbbells and weights are out the same second he lays his eyes on you and then he acts as if he doesn't notice you at all while grunting in an exaggerated way just to make you look at him

Alex craves to have a proper conversation with you, but so far you've only ever greeted him. The most you've said to him was when you introduced yourself. Normally he doesn't struggle with talking to someone he likes, but with you he finds himself to be nervous for the first time since...well...forever

The day he finds you alone at the beach during summer is like a gift from the heavens. With his gridball tugged under his arm, he confidently walks over to you and suggests to play catch. That way he can impress you with his athletic skills. Unfortunately you don't seem too into it and you don't even try to catch the ball which leads to you guys not really playing any catch

Nevertheless, you still tell him that you believe he would make a great gridball player. You might have just said that to be polite, but when I tell you that his growing crush for you makes him absolutely delusional. It definitely gets to his head and he wants, no, needs more. Any sort of compliment or praise leaving your sweet lips is like throwing treats at a dog

You start to live in his mind rent-free faster than he anticipated. His mind goes to you first thing in the moment and he has a mental picture of you in his head when he falls asleep. Hell, you even visit him in his dreams regularly and when that happens he wakes up with a lovestruck grin on his face

Whenever Evelyn mentions that she wants to send you her famous cookies over mail, Alex jumps to his feet. Why send it when he can walk over to your farm by himself?

Then one day you gift him an egg! From one of your chickens! What a time to be alive. Alex doesn't know if he should eat it or keep it, because it's something you gave him. He knows he can't keep it around forever though

Haley makes fun of him over the fact that he's so obviously head over heels for you. I mean, he is acting kinda pathetic with the way his eyes don't leave you for a second the moment you enter his vision or the way he oh so desperately begs asks for your attention. You're also the only thing he ever talks about nowadays

But then you do the unthinkable and ask him to be your partner for the flower dance! Oh, he doesn't know how to react. Alex feels like his heart is going to jump out of his chest and he's trying so hard to act all cool, but he's a mess. While he stares at you with a lovey-dovey look, he only manages a hasty nod, accompanied by a side-eye from Haley of course

It's so adorable how he messes up almost every single step of the dance. The same dance he's been participating in for years now and which steps he can usually perform in his sleep. Do you notice how nervous and excited he is? He's really hoping that you don't. Hell, he's even sending silent prayers to Yoba

"Hey, so I thought that uh you'd maybe wanna hang out? With me? Alone?" Just play it cool, Alex. You might have fucked that up on an ungodly level, but you gotta own it now. Wing it, man. "Like a date? I'd love to!"

He short circuits, blinks a couple times and is working hard to process your answer. You wanna go? With him? I mean, that is exactly the result he was hoping for when he was practicing this shit infront of the bathroom mirror, but he genuinely didn't think he'd get that far. Not with you. Not with the way he has been embarrassing himself infront of you the past months

He books a separate room at the saloon and everything is planned out up until the tiniest detail. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Well, unless he's acting like a desperate and pathetic fool again which he normally does when you're in his proximity

And holy shit it's so easy to talk to you? Don't get me wrong, he's still so fucking nervous and so fucking ready to roll out the red carpet for you just for showing up, but you're also such an easy going person. You two basically click immediately which you thought was the case a long time ago already, but he only now properly experiences this. In the past conversations you two have shared, Alex was always too busy not to seem like a complete looser

At the end of the date he of course walks you home like the gentleman he is. Your hands brush against each other during that and everytime that happens it sends jolts of electricity through his arm right into his chest where is heart is beating like crazy

You stop at your front door where you bless him with a smile and place your warm hand on his chest. This man is on cloud 9 and feels like he could fly away this instant. Then you completely rock his world by putting your lips, the same ones he's been daydreaming about 24/7, on his and he fights back a sigh. The butterflies are having a rave in his stomach right now

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv headcanons #stardew valley headcanons #sdv alex #sdv alex x reader #stardew valley alex x reader #stardew valley alex #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader

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fun-k-board · 1 year ago

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Hey, could I request Bi Han/Sub Zero romantic headcannons with a male reader who is his right hand man and childhood friend?

Bi-Han / Sub-Zero with a boyfriend who's his childhood friend

Note(s) : I'm gonna be honest, I don't really like him, but I want to try and be a better writer by writing about characters I don't like. Please, give me critiques on how I wrote him!

First of all, he was incredibly moody as a child already, not exactly of his own volition having a dad like his would ruin any kid, so if you can't handle people who are mean on purpose? You'd have a REALLY hard time getting along with him.

Bi-Han was always brooding, in the corner with a frown, he eats with a frown, sleeps frowning, talks to his brother's frowning, the only time he's ever smiling is either in private or when it's just him and Kuai Liang, but it doesn't happen that often any more after his dad died.

To befriend him, you'd either need to be a part of the Lin Kuei, either born into the clan, maybe the son of one of the lower Lin Kuei members, or found and taken in by the clan, or somehow be involved with one of the Lin Kuei's missions.

It's a long and slow process, but even just talking to him once a day will eventually gain a semblance of trust, it'll be hard to show it, and he mostly does by standing next to you and sometimes agreeing with you, but these things will take time.

By your teenage years, you two began training together, maybe he tends to be a little rougher than other Lin Kuei, and maybe he's broken your nose once, twice, possibly even thrice before, but he did apologise, eventually.

He would confide in you about troubles with his brothers, well, he insists that Smoke isn't a brother and more like a stray even though that's just not true, but Bi-Han would be awkward and reserved about talking with you.

He feels that this isn't your business, and not only that, he feels like you just... Wouldn't get it? While he understands you may have issues of your own, his situation is rather unique.

His troubles mainly consist of Kuai Liang and Tomas upholding tradition, Bi-Han believes that his brothers view tradition higher than him, and even though he's grandmaster, that they don't take his opinions into account.

Of course, this is ludicrous, his brothers follow his every word and typically offer little resistance, though, if you try to tell him that he will just storm off and claim he was right all along and that you don't understand. He'll eventually come to his senses and realise what you said was true, but, won't apologise.

If you agree with him, or at least say you do, he'll murmur a gruff complaint about his brother's and then you'll sit in silence for a while.

By the time MK1 rolls around, he's fairly jaded, he doesn't like talking to his own brothers, he dislikes them a fair amount actually, but he still loves them, or, at least he holds love in his heart for Kuai, he still hates Smoke.

Bi-Han doesn't know exactly what he feels for you, he knows it's not friendship, but at the same time, he's never really had friends before, so, he can't be sure. All he understands is that he values you, and more importantly, your opinion, if you disagree with him it may hurt his pride, but please, stay firm, he comes around eventually, only with you.

He wants to wait for something, that maybe proves you may love him, because when that rolls around, he can fully decide whether to act on his emotions or not.

You most likely accompany the trio to stop Shang Tsung, and you'll most likely be there when Bi-Han betrays the Lin Kuei. Obviously, you choose to stay with him, and, it breaks Smoke and Scorpions heart, they may not have known you too well, but, they knew you were one of the only things that would stop him from going down that path.

In a way, you both failed them that day.

Now, after proving your loyalty to him, you're basically his right hand man and oversee a lot of the clan, you train young and old recruits, you maintain a harsh schedule everybody is expected to follow, you help Bi-Han with whatever he needs, and sometimes need to force him to take a day off.

By the way, he won't let you say his actual name, you always have to either call him Sub-Zero or Grandmaster, depending on if you're on a mission or not, his name is personal to him, a core part of his identity, and, until you're closer, he feels awkward letting you call him Bi-Han.

During this, he becomes even more angry, even more distant, even with you, and it may take pushing, reminding him of your childhood spent together, for him to crack.

He won't come crying into your arms, he doesn't beg for forgiveness or want any, he just sits there, and begins to rant. He rants about how he feels like, if he was a better grandmaster, his brothers would have joined him, if he was a better grandmaster, maybe he wouldn't have joined Shang Tsung, and wouldn't have been tempted by his lies.

You hold a hand to his shoulder, and you confess, you tell him what you think about him, how you feel about his temptation into evil by Shang Tsung, and even though he doesn't want forgiveness, you give it.

And, with permission, you hold his hand. It's a small step, but, it's the most contact you two will have together for a long time.

Now, he gives you small smiles in private, nothing wide, but something so tiny it's hard to differentiate from not having an expression at all, he gives you some time off, more than he gives himself, anyway, and more importantly? He feels himself relaxed around you.

Telling a joke that would once make him scoff and walk away now makes him let out a gruff and amused noise, it's a mix between a laugh and breath of air, and he only does it for you.

Dinners with him are less awkward, when before you would sit in silence, hesitantly taking bites from food. You two now chat quietly about your day, each recruit, and sometimes about each other. You can actually enjoy the food and his presence.

He lets you call him Bi-Han now, not in public, but, when you two are alone, in a hallway, in your rooms, having dinner or breakfast privately, whichever situation calls for you two to be alone, he lets you call him by his name, and, it makes him feel vulnerable. It makes him feel loved.

He's always held your opinion in high regard, but now, it's honestly the only one that matters besides his own, and he does, silently, hope you aren't so tempted by power like he is.

Bi-Han may take longer to kiss or cuddle you than what most would consider normal, he loves you, he knows he does now, but, he's nervous, no, he's afraid. He knows he's a rough man, and he knows how uncaring and even violent he is and can come across as, so, naturally, he tries to avoid the subject. He doesn't want to do anything without your consent, but he's also far too afraid to ask.

It will take you to ask him, you'll need to make the first move, and when you do ask him for that first kiss, he gives you that small, hardly noticeable smile, and you both lean in, closing your eyes...

It's awkward. Maybe you know how to kiss, maybe you don't, but Bi-Han definitely doesn't, and, it shows. He feels slightly embarrassed at how lost he is, but, you two can learn together, and even just telling him, hey, maybe it wasn't the best, but, we can learn together, lifts his spirits an unnatural degree.

For the next week, the schedules become less strict for most Lin Kuei members, and any mess ups are met with less harsh, but still kind of harsh, punishments.

Kissing is basically ingrained into your schedule now, once in the morning on the cheek before breakfast, maybe once at lunch if it's a tough day, and always a peck on the lips at night before bed.

It takes less time to cuddle if you've already kissed before, sure, it still takes a bit long, but, so do most things with this man. Maybe it starts with holding his hand, or, sitting on his bed and talking about things, training gets hard sometimes, so perhaps you're just a bit tired.

You look up at him and quietly ask if you can just lay down for a while, or, maybe you just lay down yourself and wait for any objections, either way, he lets you lay down, and eventually, lays down next to you. Your hands hold each other tightly, your head is resting on his shoulder and it feels strangely perfect, despite how stiff his shoulders are.

This becomes semi natural in your schedule, but only after a long day, cuddling each other until you or him are on the brink of sleep, and then you return to your bed. You two still sleep in separate beds, that's just how he prefers things, no matter how much he trusts you, it's just more comfortable.

I'd recommend cuddling in summer, because, he's insanely cold and the winter is not at all suited for cuddle sessions between you two.

It takes a bit for you two to start calling each other 'boyfriend', not because Bi-Han doesn't consider you his lover, and therefore boyfriend, but because he sort of just assumes that kissing, cuddling, all of that, makes you together automatically, and, he doesn't like announcing his relationships.

It's not like he's embarrassed of you, he seriously isn't, but, you're the only person who sees the vulnerable side of him, and he prefers to keep it that way. None of the other Lin Kuei members, god forbid any one else, deserves to know your relationship with each other.

Dates are rare, extremely rare, you two have major responsibilities within the clan, and, Bi-Han doesn't trust anybody enough for them to run it while you two are away, so, the most date-like thing you'll experience is eating dinner together after every one has had theirs and left.

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child-of-helios · 9 months ago

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hello. I've a rather stupid question. I've only read the books once, as a kid, and I don't understand why people hate calpyso x leo. whys it so bad? why does everyone seems to hate it on here?

xxx,

eurydice

First of all, this is my first ever ask, I've made it mother :D Secondly, I'd gladly explain! Though please note that it really has been a good while since I've read the books too, so my memory is kinda foggy :] Warnings for: Slight mentions (but not too much) of rape, pedophilia and mental illness (oh boy this is a tough one)

So, I have made a post abt this before, but it was written in a fit of rage so not my proudest moment (but my most popular post, oops). Anyways, I feel that the hate towards Calypso x Leo is because of a few reasons. 1. It simply didn't get enough development to feel worth it imo. Similar to Jason x Piper, I felt like there wasn't enough there to warrant a canon ship. There is also the fact that personally, I thought that their dynamic was more of a familial or that of siblings, which made me uncomfortable. I would've much rather have them be friends. 2. The uncomfortable age gap. It feels very weird because while yes, Calypso was depicted as a teenager, she is thousands upon thousands of years old. The fact that she fell in love with a literal child is incredibly weird. It was weird enough with Percy, but at least they didn't end up dating. With Leo though, she did end up dating him and the age gap feels very odd. Its even weirder knowing she had a relationship with Odysseus, who by that point was a pretty old dude so she was probably very mature and an adult (though she doesn't act like it). 3. Calypso is kinda a rapist. In the Odyssey myth, she forces Odysseus (a married man) to sleep with her. I'm sorry, but I can't support any relationship involving a rapist unless its rapist x prison cell. It makes me uncomfortable because she could very well take advantage of Leo, a mentally ill teenager with self-esteem issues. 4. Her toxic treatment of Leo. Calypso was very pissed when Leo arrived on her island, rightfully so after what she had gone through, but even then her treatment of his was outright cruel, especially compared to that of Percy and Odysseus. She made him sleep outside, exposing him to the elements after he got flung through the air and ended up on her island, which must've caused some damage. Then after they started dating, I still felt uncomfortable reading about the two, because their dynamic just didn't work, and I don't recall her apologizing to him for her treatment of him. 5. Leo's arc was thrown away. I think the worst of all, is how this impacted Leo's character. He should've had an arc where he learnt to love himself, but because of Calypso he didn't. I think the moral was supposed to be: 'even if you're mentally ill or have problems, you still deserve love!' but it came over more as: 'ignore your issues and get all your love from someone else.' Isn't it more important for kids to learn about self-love? And as an extra: what could've been. I think that Leo shouldn't have gone back for Calypso, that that ship shouldn't have happened. I prefer him going back to Echo and them learning about self-love together as buddies (and maybe evolving into more than that). Echo was stuck in an abusive relationship with the Narcissist, so I think it would a good arc for them both. I also think that if you really wanted a romance, Jason x Leo would've been much better. We know that Rick can write good gay romances, we know that Piper turns out to be a lesbian, so why not make Jason and Leo gay? I think it would add much more to the tragedy of Jason's death, but that's for another post (and this one is getting too long already oops). In conclusion, I think Caleo is bad for many reasons, but especially because it didn't have enough time to develop and the dynamic was simply too creepy for me to get invested in. Sorry for the super long post- Have a lovely day :D

#pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #hoo #percy jackson #anti calypso #anti caleo #calypso #rick riordan #jason grace #leo x jason #odysseus #the odyssey

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blues824 · 2 years ago

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I need a Male! Reader x Yandere! Vincent, Claude, Sebastian, Undertaker, Lau, and Madam Red in my life! It’d interesting if M!reader were to be extremely cool-headed and always in a dream-like state but aware of what is happening around them and is incredibly smart. They appear sleepy but really aren’t it’s just their usual face. And they’re soul is one in a million that could keep a demon full for years. So to the characters M!reader appears as otherworldly and they are intrigued…

I love Yandere requests for some reason.

Vincent Phantomhive

Poor dear was fearful that you would fall asleep at any point, so it is better to have you next to him at all times. But, he wouldn’t be surprised if you were always sleepwalking, because you lived as though you were in a dream. Well, he may as well be your knight in shining armor, as he needed to protect you.

You could see what he was doing. Ever since he first invited you back to the Phantomhive manor, ever since he offered you that cup of tea. You wanted to wake up, you wanted to fight back, but the poison kept you from doing it. And besides, it would be a far call to say that the Vincent Phantomhive was poisoning you. Even though you were angry, you knew you had to be reasonable. This was your fate now.

Sebastian Michaelis

He had met you when he was going to pick up the young master’s new cane. You were a 19-year-old apprentice, who didn’t seem to have his head back on Earth. The demon breathed in and your soul just smelled so sweet. It was calling to him, to his hunger. Suddenly, Ciel Phantomhive did not have the most craved soul. So, a few days later, he wrote to your master that you were called for by Lord Phantomhive himself, but it was actually him who wanted you there.

As smart as you typically were, you did not see this coming until it was too late. He held you in his arms within the library while the master was busy with his work, and Mey-Rin, Finney, and Bard were all doing their chores. He whispered that you were his and his alone, and you then realized that your mind was steadily growing more and more cloudy.

Claude Faustus

He typically wouldn’t care about just any human being unless their soul called out to him. But, when he saw you in the bookstore, your mind somewhere in some distant land rather than the present, he could hear your soul. It smelled sweet, and fulfilling, and he could sense that there were other demons around waiting to collect it.

He invited you to the Trancy Manor, where he locked you in a room that was isolated so that no one would be able to hear you. He made sure that the other servants were aware that he was the only one who would tend to that side of the house, and because of his status within the household, he was never questioned. Now, without him by you during the day, you spent your days trying to escape all the while acting as though your head was up in the clouds when he checked up on you.

Lau

You were one of Ciel’s servants, and you caught his attention with how you seemed to be living within a dream. You were operating on autopilot, but you were doing exceptionally well. It was because of you being a tiny bit of a distraction to the man that he was not paying attention to the plan that Sebastian had laid out.

The next day, you had found yourself in his opium den. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ran-Mao had kidnapped you in the night and brought you to where you were now. You were bound in chains, and led up to Lau, where he had you placed upon his lap. You seemed to be a bit too aware, maybe you just needed to go to sleep. It’s unfortunate that you ended up in an opium den of all places.

Undertaker

You had entered his shop by mistake, and he was surprised because he was not expecting any visitors, dead or alive, that day. It caused you both to laugh, and he had you sit down for a bit of tea before you made your way back. He could sense your soul, and he was aware that he wanted it just for himself. After about the third cup of tea that he prepared for you, you finally sensed that it was a bit suspicious. Of course, you were slowly getting sleepy.

In the morning, you found yourself sleeping in a coffin. You were tied up, but it was open. The Undertaker heard you struggling against the bindings, and he let out a bit of a giggle before peering over the opening of the coffin. You weren’t really listening to what he was saying, but you caught something about your soul, and you being the first to make him laugh genuinely with nothing required in return.

Madam Red

You were a servant from the Phantomhive Manor, and when she went to discuss with her nephew about the plans to catch Jack the Ripper, you had caught her attention. She made a comment about how her butler could learn from both you and Sebastian. However, Grelle could see the look of love in her eyes, and she knew her next orders.

The following day, you found yourself locked within a room in Madame Red’s estate. Eventually, the lady had entered the room, specifically the bedroom, where you were staying in. She greeted you with a hello darling before moving on to prepare for the night. You saw the instruments she was using, but you remember hearing her tell Grelle that there was a target that night. You let out a gasp, and you started trying to escape only to be held back by Madam Red herself. She used one of the many syringes full of something with anesthetic properties that put you back to sleep.

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zeppeli-reelstallbun · 2 months ago

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A Jury of One

Part 1/? next -> [masterlist]

[PAIRING] Gyro Zeppeli x Reader (She/Her AFAB)

[SUMMARY] Do you tell them? Should you explain why you kept your gender a secret? Did you even really need to? No… Gyro and Johnny had proven long ago they were your friends, you didn't need to keep this big of a secret from them for this long… but surely they have things they don’t tell you either. (Fic takes place mid part 7)

[WC] 2.6k

[!!!] Reader disguises as a man as a major plot point. no major sbr plot points mentioned in this part but it takes place early-middle of the race, spoilers will arise. longer than chin length hair is implied but can be ignored. smoking swearing and drinking on the other hand...

[PREFACE] You were framed for murder lol (maybe we’ll talk abt this later teehee) Thankfully, you’re hot and sexy and managed to get away from the initial chaos! Then you were in hiding for a few years since… yk… Your name is still hot, but things have started to die down due to the passage of time. You always risk recognition, but are fairly confident that no one is specifically looking for you anymore. But you needed money ohhhh no what are you gonna do!? surprise surprise, its enter a horse race for the cash prize. Aaaaaand if you have to disguise yourself anyways, might as well get the benefits of being a man, considering how dangerous it might be. You landed on the name August, paying homage to the month the crime took place

[AN] so i def want to do more of this story line because i am incredibly incredibly normal about Johnny joestar and also have a lot of ideas for him with this concept sooooooooo yeah im gonna write him an apology plotline bbg deserves better. also also totally had an idea for a Diego tie in. Maybe I’m just horny for cowboys idk

The heat was relentless, beating down on your shoulders as you rode behind Gyro and Johnny. Under normal circumstances, the bandana around your face was a blessing; it was easy to justify its necessity in the harsh, arid sandstorms that left your eyes watering in pain. Today, however, it was stifling. The fabric you’d grown accustomed to was now trapping your face with the heat and sweat of the desert itself, but you didn't dare take it off. Not out here. Not with them.

It was a strange dynamic—one that left you feeling like you’d snuck into this odd little group while hiding the only thing that could change it all. Not to mention, traveling with two of the most observant and stubborn men in the Steel Ball Run race felt like walking a tightrope, considering the situation you were in. For weeks now, every glance, every accidental brush too close, every ill-timed cough or slip of your voice was a disaster waiting to happen. You were beginning to question the reason for keeping the secret in the first place, but you knew the risk of letting them in…

If either of them even recognized you, it would be enough to implicate them for harboring a criminal. You’d been donning the name ‘August’ for so long, the one you were born with had felt unnatural. Plus, it was much easier to sleep at night knowing they didn't know your gender, let alone your true identity. Or maybe it was a mercy to yourself. Maybe it was easier to forget about one secret when you were so obsessed with keeping another. Honestly, the fact you’d managed to keep both of these things hidden this long was impressive enough in itself.

That wasn’t to say there hadn’t been a few close calls, though.

The first was weeks ago, when Johnny tried to help with an injury after a rough day of riding. What had originally just been some friendly competition rapidly turned into bloodshed, and your right leg had taken significant damage in the process. You found yourself settling in for the night with a deeper appreciation for the spare pants you decided to pack, the others having been ripped to the calf and covered in blood.

“You’re limping,” the American said when you returned to camp, eyes wide as he gestured for you to sit next to him.

“It's nothing, Johnny,” you’d replied, brushing him off. Unfortunately, you didn't manage to stifle the gasp of pain that snuck through your lips as you shifted your weight to sit down.

“Woah, easy man,” Johnny cooed, instinctively placing his arms around your shoulders to help support your weight.

Gyro, who was tending the fire, had turned and crouched beside you—a rare moment of care showing on his face. “Let me see.”

“No,” you said too quickly, “It’s fine, really.”

But Johnny had already started tugging at the hem of your pants, and Gyro leaned in, all traces of his lighthearted demeanor gone. It wasn’t malicious, you knew. This was from a place of worry for a friend and their wellbeing; they were trying to treat a wound. But still, you’d panicked, slapping their hands away with more force than necessary.

“Don’t touch me,” you snapped, pulling the leg back with a wince.

Both men instantly froze, exchanging a look, and for a moment you thought the jig was up… Then Gyro shrugged, leaning back on his heels with that stupid lopsided grin of his.

“Suit yourself, ragazzo,” he said, the usual lightness back in his voice. “But if you lose that leg, don’t complain to me.”

That was one of the many quirks you had noticed after spending weeks with Gyro Zeppeli. No matter how much you and Johnny would tease him for it, it was as if he couldn’t help letting his native tongue slip out. Little nicknames, terms of endearment, even jabs at ‘mistakes’ others made seemed more natural in the foreign dialect.

“Attento, you’ll fall off your horse if you keep riding like that,” he’d call out to friend and foe alike. It had grown on you, you hated to admit.

Speaking of Gyro, the second close call you’d had was worse, and he was at its center.

It was late, the three of you camped in a small grove of trees, unfortunately cramped together in one tent due to the cold. You’d worried about the bandana falling off in the night at the beginning of the race, but had since found that it stayed put rather well. On this particular evening, you’d already dozed off, exhausted from the day's ride, only to wake with a start when Gyro’s hand clamped over the fabric on your face.

“Shh,” he whispered, breath hot against your ear. “Don’t freak out. Can’t reach Johnny without making too much sound so you’ll have to get him. Something’s out there.”

Your heart pounded as you realized how close he was, arm braced over you, body pressed tightly against yours. You froze, ignoring all instruction as terror washed over you. Something—anything—could give you away. You couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t felt anything, and this thought threw all logic out of your already sleep deprived brain. Thankfully, before you could even think to acknowledge what the Italian had said, Johnny's voice broke the silence.

“What is it?” he asked, sitting up, groggy but alert.

The hands around you tensed, and you noted a heavy pause before he acknowledged anything. “Probably just a coyote,” Gyro muttered, pulling back and letting you go. He might not have said anything, might not have noticed in the first place even, but you couldn’t help but notice how his brow furrowed before he turned away… how the creases in his forehead crinkled inwards, how his chin cocked slightly upward. Not that you paid attention to that kind of thing.

As you sat here now, riding their tails, a part of you debated feeling bad. They thought you were just another competitor, a guy with a knack for keeping quiet and an uncanny ability to fix up injuries or keep things in order. You played it well, you thought. The bandana and baggy clothes did most of the heavy lifting outside of your vocal adjustments. Without a doubt, you knew you could keep the act up and remain as masculine to Johnny as you were on day one.

But Gyro…

You were starting to second guess some things, let's put it that way.

When you had initially joined their little duo, he’d treated you similar to every other man he met: with boisterous humor, a touch of arrogance, and a list a mile long of half-baked philosophies on life. You found yourself biting your tongue at first, cringing when he launched into one of his grandiose speeches. Especially when his words started drifting; there was only so much ‘guy talk’ you could take, after all.

”Men are born to conquer, to lead, to endure hardship,” he’d drunkenly said one evening by the fire, gesturing wildly with a half-eaten strip of jerky. “Women, well, they’ve got their strengths too, but-”

He faded off with a glance in your direction. “Don’t stop there,” you’d muttered before you could help yourself. “I'm dying to hear the rest.”

Johnny had laughed innocently enough, but Gyro had given you a long look before letting out a soft chuckle. “Sharp tongue, eh?”

You considered this close call number three.

But now…

The way he spoke to you had shifted. As the three of you rode in tense silence, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his attention had been lingering a little too much lately. He’d always been loud, brash, abrasive, and impossible to ignore, but now there was something different. Subtle, but there. Honestly, a part of you wondered if he even knew he was doing it… if he knew he was forgetting to ask Johnny if he needed help off his horse or extra bedding on cold nights like he did for you.

“Don’t fall behind,” Gyro snapped you from the thought, voice carrying with a deep richness over the dry air as he turned around in his saddle to face you. “Not everyone has my stamina, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, grateful for the fabric covering the annoyed expression you couldn’t suppress. “I’ll keep up, don’t worry about me.”

He chuckled, turning back around, but not before letting his gaze linger another second too long. You thought you were making things up at this point, surely if someone as arrogant as Gyro had figured it out, there’s no way he’d keep his mouth shut about it.

Unless he knew too much.

But you didn’t want to give that thought any power over you or the relationship you had begrudgingly formed.

The sun was sinking lower as you continued on, casting a long shadow over the land ahead. Your exhaustion was setting in, and even Johnny was starting to complain about the final stretch of the journey.

“How far is the town?” He called from the front, voice tight with irritation.

“Couple more miles,” Gyro said, scanning the horizon. “We’ll make it before dark.”

You said nothing, too tired to deepen your voice more than necessary. Water had started to run low, it wasn’t dangerous yet, but you had been forced to ration out your canteen. You weren't at any risk of dehydration, but you were definitely starting to feel the strain on your vocal cords. Johnny and Gyro, of course, didn’t need to factor something like this into their trail planning. Nor had they needed to account for menstruation… that had been a truly awful week.

You were planning on remaining this detached until you reached the checkpoint town, knowing a night in a real bed would ease some of the tension you’d been feeling in the wilderness.

That was before Gyro slowed Valkyrie, letting his horse fall in step beside yours. He leaned slightly toward you, grin shifting into something softer, something almost teasing.

”You holding up back here, regazza?” he asked.

Your breath caught.

It was so casual, so smooth that you’d almost missed it. Johnny didn't even flinch. Granted, you couldn’t know if he’d even heard it; he was too busy squinting at the horizon, muttering something under his breath about wanting real food. But you? You were frozen. Did he know?

You might not know Italian, but your time around the man had taught you a thing or two about pronoun structure… that, and he’d never called you anything but ‘regazzo’ up until now.

Gyro didn't look at you directly, but you saw the corner of his mouth turn up into a smirk, daring you to react.

You didn't. You couldn’t. You had to convince yourself it was just a mistake. You couldn’t react no matter his intention. You felt like you could die-

Instead of dying, you kept your eyes straight forward, your grip tightening on the reins until your knuckles ached and nails dug into your palms. Heat rose to your cheeks, and for the first time all day you were thankful for the disgustingly sweaty bandana stuck to your face. You forced yourself to stay calm, as if hearing the feminine form of a word hadn’t struck you like a bolt of lightning.

Would a guy have reacted the same way? What would Johnny have said? Would he have acknowledged the difference? Should you have? Did he know? Was your silence incrimination enough?

You already knew the answer was yes, and you cursed yourself for freezing instead of just playing it off in the moment.

He didn't say it again, and didn't seem fond of breaking the silence that followed, but the damage was done. The road was now suffocatingly quiet, tension becoming more palpable by the minute.

And there were still miles to go.

At one point, you thought it would be impossible, each hoofbeat heavy with what remained unspoken.

The trail seemed endless ahead of you. And he was always there, right beside you, making it impossible to pretend. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes kept screaming a victory. His gaze fell somewhere between savoring the tension he’d created and yearning for you to take the initiative to break it.

“How are you holding up?” He finally muttered once the town was in sight, his voice light and teasing in a way that made your stomach tighten.

You barely managed to suppress a shiver running through you. “Fine,” you muttered, pushing the unease down.

“Mm, fine, huh?” Gyro drawled, slowing and nudging his horse closer to yours. “Looks like there’s something on your mind, don’t look so fine to me.”

You could feel his gaze, sharp and unrelenting. It made your skin crawl, but you forced yourself to remain indifferent. “It’s nothing,” you said, as casually as you could manage.

Still, your pulse quickened. You couldn’t help it, you knew exactly where this was going. Before he could answer, Johnny, blissfully ignorant, turned his head around, humming a little tune. “Almost there, boys. Nice bed, nice real meal—maybe even a bath, eh?”

Gyros' eyes rolled as they flickered to him. “I bet you’ll have fun with that,” he said with his usual tone. You clenched your jaw, hoping that would be the end of his comments.

You should have known better.

”You know,” Gyro broke the silence seconds later, “I have a feeling Auggie is gonna splurge on his own room tonight. Just a hunch.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, grip tightening again as you forced yourself to stay quiet.

Johnny, bless his soul, quipped right back. “Not if I beat him to it! I’ve had enough of your snoring, Zeppeli.” He started looking around, eager to get to the inn.

Gyro, on the other hand, seemed to be studying you still, waiting for you to crack, to give him any hint that you’d understood the implication of his words.

But you stayed quiet. You somehow ignored the fire burning in your stomach as his gaze overstayed its welcome.

As you pulled into the town, you were looking for any excuse to linger behind. Johnny must have been reading your mind to some capacity, as he was more helpful towards this goal than Gyro was.

“I’ll get our rooms, on me for stealing first from you Zeppeli-“ he started.

“Was that before or after Hot Pants stole first from you, Johnny?” You couldn’t help yourself, you were still enjoying the look on his face from earlier in the afternoon when the actual lineup was announced.

He scoffed at you, a lighthearted smile showing that he appreciated the banter, “Just put up Slow Dancer for me, will you?” he asked, eager to get inside to rest.

Gyro didn't move as he spoke, keeping his eyes fixed instead on you. “Of course. Thank you for handling it, Johnny, that’s very kind.”

The kid was already gone when you started to dismount, but Gyro’s voice stopped you cold.

“I'm thinking,” he said, voice dropping to a whisper meant just for you. “We’re gonna need to have a little chat, bella. Just us.”

The weight of his words—no, word—pressed down like a thousand bricks. If by some miracle you were able to play off ‘regazza,’ this was intended as a blunt confrontation of your ignorance. But you knew better than that. More importantly, you knew Gyro Zeppeli knew you better than that. So, you froze, fingers still on the reins, body tensing at the intensity in his gaze. He didn't break eye contact as he leaned in slightly, hands wandering to assist your descent from the horse.

”I'll meet you inside,” he added as you reached the ground, handing the other two leads to you. “I'll even get us some drinks. Don’t keep me waiting.”

continue to next part ->

woooo first fic posted in a while. thanks for reading :)

read other works and progress announcements on my masterlist !!

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licncourt · 27 days ago

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Ohhhh can we get into it? That post about Louis San Fran bender. Going after people who look like lestat. Maybe Louis doesn’t sleep with all of them, maybe a few but he feeds on the rest and drains them. Lestat realizing he’s made his own little magnus in a way…

San Francisco era Louis being an utter and total freak is something that is so important to me, I really cannot stop talking about it. The psychosexual aspect of the gay serial killer phenomenon as it relates to Louis is something I've discussed a lot (on here and in my fic about that) because I think it explains so much about how he looks at sex and desire. Sex and violence can't really be separated in his head (Catholic freak), especially when he's at a serious low point, so when he engages with them they are often enacted together.

When he's alone in San Francisco, he seems to be in a weird place mentally where he's in a state of obvious apathy, but also more prone to gratuitous violence. I think it does make sense, even though it seems contradictory. Vampirism is inherently violent, so those outbursts are coming from a lack of will to restrain his nature rather than real passion and the release of built up pressure the way they did before. It's exceptionally chilling and predatory. There's something very human about losing control, but the way Louis seems to approach killing in the pre-TVL era is distinctly monstrous and inhuman.

I think it's in QotD that we find out Louis initially chose Daniel as a potential victim because of his resemblance to Lestat, so this is canonically where his mind is at the time of the interview. It also shows that he's was probably cognizant of what was going on even at the time and it doesn't even seem like it bothered him that much that he was doing it. That's what makes San Francisco Louis so scary imo, just that small acknowledgment shows us that his violence is honing in on something and the obsession is either setting in or already there.

The implication in the book (AND the original short story) that the place Louis met Daniel was a gay bar adds a layer to it as well in a very human and sexual sense. Not only did he choose a Lestat lookalike, but it seems like he chose to hunt in a (homo)sexually charged environment on purpose. His whole vibe reminds me of an addict who's been using for so long that there's no dopamine rush anymore and is getting more extreme in chasing a very particular high. The allegory of addiction is always very strong in Louis, but the way it presents during this period is kind of a continuation of that narrative.

I think if Lestat hadn't woken up, Louis could have easily devolved into what Magnus became. He has that incredibly addictive personality and he's prone to obsession and pathological rumination anyway. By 1973, we can see how detached he was from humanity already. Imagine him in 300 or 500 years, after so much death and isolation. Nothing in there except hunger and memories that he's clung to for so long that they're horrifically distorted, maybe unrecognizable except for blue eyes and blonde hair.

@nasnyys is the beautiful mind behind the Lestat POV aspect of this so I can't speak on that a ton, but I love it SO much. A huge part of Lestat's story is how he can't seem to break out of existing cycles and he's often the catalyst for that continuation against his will. It seems to disturb him the most when he sees those cycles repeating in Louis (to the point where I would say he imagines them at times), so I think this would absolutely not be lost on him. Maybe he would perceive it as Magnus "tainting" him to the point where whatever Lestat creates has some essence of his maker/abuser, like it's intrinsically a part of him somehow. It's very sad, I would love to think on it more and come back with something better to say!

#btw thank you to everyone who sent me asks since i logged back on i am crashing tf out over a breakup that's not even new and i need the di #i should write a book about how to be so far in denial that it actually improves your productivity and happiness for a while #*distraction ^#vc #louis de pointe du lac #answered #meta

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tenshinokorin · 1 year ago

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TnK's Trigun Fic Listing

Ok now that I've got 15 fics out for Trigun (so far) and at least a couple of those are upwards of 20K and some of them are sequels and followups and ongoing, I thought maybe I should do a proper list of things, to make it easier for people who want to read in some kind of order. I'm terrible about talking up my own work but this is also for my own reference so that's fine, right? ^^; All fics are Vashwood-centric (I will get to Nai in a minute I have a backlog) and ratings vary from Gen to Explicit, though all are intended for an adult audience. This list is complete as of September '23, I will update it periodically as needed!

NB: I'm lucky enough to have gotten fanart for some of these and sometime when my head is not full of mud I'll go in and add links to those where I can. (Or please drop a link in the replies if you are one of the wonderful artists in question!)

THE BIG THREE STORYLINES:

Someday Out of the Blue & I Believe in the Kingdom Come

Trigun '98 canon. Reincarnation fic. The first one is a story I started writing over 20 years ago and quit after a chapter because I was just too heartbroken (and did not know it, but was also too young). Picked it up and finished it this April (2023) after Stampede clobbered me and I fell off the "we don't talk about wolfwood" wagon. The second story is a direct sequel to tie up some loose ends from the first one, and also to indulge my need for a proper happy ending. (I think a lot of folks don't realize Someday has a sequel but it does!!)

Black is the Color and Mysterious Ways

Trimax Canon. Resurrection/Fix-it/Angstmance with a much shorter, sillier, smuttier epilogue. Three years after the end of Trigun Maximum, Vash is having some trouble laying his ghosts to rest. (You may have seen this incredible artwork which has gotten around a bit and boosts the story better than any summary of mine possibly could.) Weird things happened when I was writing this, I don't mind telling you. Mysterious Ways was mostly an excuse to explore some of the more interesting concepts brought up by the first one, but saying anything more would be spoilery.

Eyes of the Storm

(Mostly) Trimax canon. Cryptid Vash AU, slowburn romance, ongoing. When Nicholas D. Wolfwood gets roped into being the new caretaker for the now-abandoned orphanage where he spent his childhood, he soon finds out that his own hidden memories are not the only thing haunting him. (What the fuck is a Typhoon?) Wolfwood, Vash, Livio, Elendira, et al. This is the one currently in progress at six chapters out of ??. Pretty SFW so far BUT NOT FOR MUCH LONGER CAVEAT LECTOR.

List continues with standalone and shorter fics below the cut!

Honeymoon

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Plant Heat, Wingfic, Tentacle Fic, What the fuck is Hay Fever. Wolfwood offers to help Vash out with a personal problem and gets a little more than he bargained for.

Strange Powers

Generic Trimax/98 setting, comedy/smut/potato jokes/fisting with a loaded prosthetic. What if Vash and Wolfwood (accidentally) got really, really hella high?

Hurricane

Trigun '98 Canon.

Vash: Make money? As a priest?

WW: Well. *mysteriously* Not only that.

Vash: (oh my gosh he's a prostitute)

Shortfic. Wolfwood tries to figure out how to offer his services to someone he doesn't really want to be a paying customer. Short and smutty while also demolishing Wolfwood's professional boundaries.

Skin Tight

Generic Trimax/98 setting. The Infamous Red Dress. PWP, Wolfwood needs to be in the Vash Sensory Deprivation Tank, Vash in high heels, the dress gave its life for this fic you should read it and honor its sacrifice. Look. This is just porn, guys. You want the porny fic? This is the porny fic. (just kidding most of them are porny fics but this one is especially so.)

Secondhand Secrets

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Introspective/Vignette/Wolfwood POV. Vash's artificial arm always moves in his sleep, and Wolfwood wonders what he's looking for.

Personal Jesus

Badlands Rumble canon (post-film), Wolfwood has poor emotional coping strategies, hurt/comfort (Wolfwood provides both), first-time. That red hotel minifridge never stood a chance.

A Fool From Any Direction

Trigun '98 Vash's weird horny schtick is a front, and self-respect doesn't save lives. Which is too bad because when Wolfwood finds out what Vash is planning next he's gonna kill him.

Benediction

Trimax but could also be '98; Sometimes being a hero is not all it's cracked up to be. Or maybe Vash is the one cracking up. Hurt/Comfort, Wound Care & Bible Quotes, Noman's Land is a bitch of a planet. Shortfic, feels, non-explicit/no sex.

A Bit of a Tight Spot

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Costume Porn, PWP, No corsets were harmed in the making of this fic. I feel like this one gets missed a lot which is MADDENING because you guys. WOLFWOOD'S DOUBLE Ds IN A CORSET. And like, in a gender euphoria way, not in a comedy drag kind of way (though comedy drag does make a small appearance). I don't know how the good minister tightlaced in cuban stockings while giving Vash a blowjob in front of a mirror in the attic of a whorehouse can get so often overlooked, maybe my title or summary is lacking, but it's one of the hottest things I've ever written and its engagement is just in the basement? When (emphatic baffled hand motions to Nicholas D. Wolfwood wearing a garter like a thigh-holster). Anyway.

The Quick and the Bed

Trigun '98 Comedy, Romance, First Time. The single bed trope. Drunk Idiocy. Wolfwood's vows are in serious danger. (Wolfwood does not have vows.) Readers have let me know that they find this one amusing. Roommates of readers have sent me threats of bodily harm due to badly-stifled hysterical laughter at 3am.

THAT'S ALL FOR NOW MORE STORIES WILL BE ADDED AS THEY OCCUR!

SMALL DISCLAIMER: I'm a full-time working writer and my fanfic is something I give away for free out of love. Please don't copy, alter, plagiarize, feed to AI in any form, fold, spindle, or mutilate. I'm not in the market for concrit, but if you like my stories please feel free to leave me a comment/kudo, download/print/fanbind for personal use, or let other readers know!

#trigun #vashwood #trigun fanfic #tnk fic #trigun '98 #trigun maximum #trigun stampede

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nami-moittli · 20 days ago

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Okay! Here’s my newest twst OCs, Lucian and [TBD]. My favorite thing about Aurora OCs is that it means there is not one, not two, but three goddamn Aurora’s in this universe lol

Lucian and the Owl are second years at RSA. Or, at the very least Luci is, still not sure about Owl boy. Maybe he’s a 3rd year? Idk yet

Silver is based off of Briar Rose’s curse of sleep, and Luci is when Aurora is drawn to the needle. This idea is not unique, cause I remember seeing a different Aurora OC based off the concept but 1) I saw this idea like, gotta be a year or so, maybe more ago since I’ve seen it, and I think that Luci’s pretty unique anyway. Or at least, I hope. There’s only so much you can do basing an OC off a preexisting character that already has two different characters based off them lol. (I rewatched Sleeping Beauty for this-)

Anyway, if Silver is based mainly off Briar Rose, being raised in the forest, Lucian is based on if Aurora stayed Aurora. Still incredibly sheltered, but with much less freedom. She would know of her fate and her curse and be terrified, and while Luci hasn’t been cursed in such a way, he’s still incredibly paranoid from being told that fae are his enemy due to a war long past for humans.

Anyway, he’s either royalty or high nobility, being a descendant of Henrick (meaning technically he and Silver are cousins!) and as such his parents are often busy with work. Due to this, he was primarily raised by his nannies, 3 diurnal faeries (the same ones from Silver’s backstory, in fact). When around though, he’s far closer to his mother than his father as his father sees him more as an heir than a child. His mother does a much better job at seeing him as a son, even if they often can’t see each other. #DaddyIssues lol. I’m also playing with the idea of Luci being trans, so that just adds even more onto it. Either way, the idea for him to go to school was to get him more exposure to the outside world, as it’s a skill that he’ll need eventually, and it might be a good way to get over his fear. It still took the combined efforts of the 3 faeries and Lucian’s mother to convince his father. Another thing I’m playing with is having him be betrothed, since that’s a thing that Aurora has to go through with and the other two don’t have to deal with it. Silver for obvious reasons, and Ray (what I call the Dawn Knight) is a peasant boy taken in by Henrick’s family. I like to think of Leah as partially inspired by Philip, so she’d have the mentality of “It’s the 14th(/whenever this all takes place) century!” And marries the cute peasant/knight boy. Meanwhile, Luci would be the Aurora in this situation, crying himself to sleep because he does not want to wed someone he doesn’t love. His Mother has tried to convince Lucian’s father to call it off, but he wouldn’t budge. The faeries have also resigned to the notion of it being an inevitable, without even trying to convince the king/nobleman. Another reason to send him off to school, to give Luci some freedom before the wedding

While the faeries did not follow Luci to school (I don’t want to step on Lilia’s toes with his gimmick) they do still sometimes visit him, and they have room in his jewelry box! Lucian’s old peasant friend, maybe the child of one of the servants? Still figuring him out, did actually get to go to RSA too! So at least Lucian isn’t completely alone at a new and scary school. Lucian’s at least trying to get over his fears, especially now as housewarden.

Each of the three different Auroras have a different gift, Ray gets his golden hair from the faeries, Lucian gets a beautiful voice, and Silver sleeps enchanted instead of dying as an infant. Not totally the same as Ray doesn’t have “lips redder than the red, red rose” or wtvr it was, and Aurora sleeps at 16 instead of as an infant (and longer) but oh well.

Anyway, I hope other people like Lucian! I’m slowly falling in love with him, he’s just so blorbo shaped lol.

#I hope I’m right in remembering that Leah and Henrick are siblings #they are now if they’re not #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst oc Lucian #my art #twst oc yasser #twst silver #twst dawn knight #twst knight of dawn #twst book 7 spoilers #twst episode 7 spoilers

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fool-inthe-rain · 2 years ago

Text

All the Right Reasons

Sirius Black x Potter!Reader

wc: 1500~

Content: Fluff!!!! Angst if you squint. Use of she/her pronouns, use of Y/N. Let me know if I missed anything.

Request: I’m a hoe for Sirius Black and was wondering if you could write a Sirius Black x Potter!reader secret relationship. Maybe some sneaking around and getting found out and James being mad or something but with a happy ending.

Anon I'm so sorry this took much longer than I expected it to. Thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy reading!

Navigation

To say they were in love, well, that would be an understatement. The pair were totally and completely infatuated with each other. They did a remarkable job of hiding their intimacy, however. The only other person who knew about the relationship between Sirius Black and Y/n Potter was, of course, Remus Lupin. It’s not like they wanted him to know, but when he walked in on them making out on Sirius’s bed, it was pretty difficult from there on out to hide what was going on from him.

Remus was, unsurprisingly, incredibly supportive of them. Sure, he was skeptical at first. Who wouldn’t be? Sirius Black, best friend of James Potter, and dating his twin sister? Remus made it a point to set boundaries, even though he knew, he didn’t want to hear about it or see anything too relationship-y from either of them. The less he knew the better. The last thing he wanted was to know every detail of their relationship, and have James find out he knew. Remus knew Sirius and y/n better than either would admit, that being said, even though they had been diligent so far, he knew how incredibly unstealthy the two were. James was bound to find out sooner rather than later.

Summer was hard. What with Sirius living with the Potters and all. This was his third summer with them, and his last, as they were going into 7th year and would–hopefully–be graduating. Sirius spent his nights waiting for James to fall asleep so he could sneak into y/n’s room. He was exceedingly grateful that James was such a heavy sleeper.

Sirius was already laying out a game plan in his mind for how he and y/n would get ample alone time during the three-month break. He figured it wouldn’t be much different than last summer, but he still wanted to be prepared for what he liked to call ‘unprecedented changes to the mission’ the mission being their relationship. To his credit, Hogwarts was much larger and much easier to sneak around in, so y/n let him have his silly code phrases as long as it meant they would still be able to get away from James when needed.

They had gotten home late, as the ride from Kings Cross to the Potter’s home was excruciatingly long and boring. Euphemia and Fleamont let them know in the car that come morning, they would be heading out for a small family engagement on the coast. James and y/n were not expected to attend as it was extended family they really had no relationship with. As soon as Sirius heard the house would be free of adults for a few days the gears started turning in his head. When they had finally gotten home, decisions were silently made between Sirius and y/n to just sleep for the night, no sneaking around. They were too drowsy to be careful.

Sirius and James parted ways from y/n and made their way to their shared bedroom only a few doors down from hers.

“Thinking of going out tomorrow with a few old friends from the neighborhood. You game?” James asked Sirius, turning his head to look at his friend.

Sirius smirked from where he was standing, facing away from James.

“Nah mate, you have fun. I think I’m just gonna hang out here, maybe see about that motorcycle I had been telling you about.” He was trying to hide the smile from his voice. This was almost too perfect. Effie and Fleamont would be out, James would be out, and then there were two.

“Alright, well if you change your mind…” James’s sentence trailed off into a yawn. “Godric, I’m bloody tired.”

“Me too.” Was all Sirius could get out before he caught James’s yawn.

James turned the light off and within seconds the pair was asleep. The next morning, as per usual, y/n was up early, in time to see her parents off. James woke up around mid-morning and when the clock hit 12:30, Sirius was still sound asleep.

“I’m heading out for the day. I’ll be home around dinner.” James yelled as he left the shared bedroom, slinging a backpack over his shoulder.

“Mhm, whatever.” Sirius grumbled from under his sheets, sticking one limp hand out to wave away his best friend.

James made his way out the door, offering a quick goodbye to his sister while tousling her hair. When she was sure he had left, she silently made her way upstairs, creaking open the door to Sirius’s bedroom.

“I thought you left?” Sirius once again grumbled in annoyance, if there was one thing he hated more than his family, it was being woken up.

“Oh? And where exactly was I supposed to be going?” y/n snickered teasingly.

Sirius turned around in the bed, enough so he was facing the door. A large smile was plastered on his face as he held the sheets up signaling for her to join him. Of course, she did, when Sirius Black wants you in his bed, you go.

He draped an arm around her waist, running his hand up and down her back as they two just admired each other, and basked in the silence of the house.

“This is nice.” She squeaked out, it didn’t matter that they had been together for almost a year she still got nervous around him.

“It’s exceptional. How lucky we are. First day home and we have it all to ourselves.” Sirius punctuated his sentence with a long kiss to her lips.

The two were so wrapped up in quiet conversation, and each other's eyes that neither had heard the front door open. They certainly didn’t hear footsteps coming up the stairs, but they did hear the bedroom door opening and the loud gasp that followed.

“What the hell are you two doing? Get off my sister!” James was wide-eyed as he stood in the doorway.

The two sprung out of bed, y/n’s chest was heaving from the adrenaline his yelling had caused. Sirius stood slightly behind her.

“I can explain!” Sirius quickly offered.

“Oh, I’d love to hear this! What you bed my sister and then leave her out to dry like every other girl?” James was fuming. “Give me one reason not to punch you right now.”

“I love her.” Sirius shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/n snapped her head back to look at him, her eyes wide in shock. They hadn’t said that before. Sure she thought about it, but to hear him say it made her heart swell.

“Okay, can I just say you two with the wide eyes, you look creepily alike so can you please stop with that look?” Sirius deadpanned as if he had just not made an earth-shattering confession.

“You love her?”

“You love me?”

The twins said in synch and Sirius just nodded.

“Of course I do,” he was looking at y/n “I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” His eyes were full of honey and adoration.

“I love you too-” Before she could get in another word James cut her off.

“Okay, wait, lemme get this straight. You guys are dating?”

The couple nodded.

“Merlin’s beard,” James ran his hands down his face a few times, trying to grasp the situation at hand, “How long?”

“Almost a year.” y/n squeaked out, afraid that he would get angry again for keeping it from him for so long.

“Okay, okay.” James sat on his bed.

“And you,” He pointed at Sirius, “Love her?” He pointed at his twin sister.

“Yeah mate, I really do,” Sirius said, nervously playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” James asked, a twinge of hurt lacing his words.

“Mate, one of the first things you ever told Moony and I was that y/n was off limits. I thought you were gonna rip my head off!”

“Well I mean yeah if you were gonna use her for a quick fuck then I would be pissed, but you love each other,” he stood up, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, “who am I to deny love!” he cried out with a dramatic flair, drawing them both into an equally as dramatic hug.

“Why are you even home? I thought you were going out?” Y/n questioned when he let go of them.

“Yeah I forgot something, but now I can’t remember what it was.”

James took in the sight before him one more time before picking his backpack back up.

“Oh, young love! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He left the room and the couple could hear his loud laughter as he exited through the front door once again.

“Well, he took that better than I expected.” Sirius smiled. “Now shall we pick up where we left off?” He got back into the bed, lifting up the sheets the same as he did before.

Getting in the bed she couldn’t hold back her happiness any longer.

“You love me! Sirius Black is capable of love!” She sniggered poking at his sides.

“Oh come off it!” He responded with a smirk of his own.

#sirius black imagine #sirius x reader #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius orion black #sirius black fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter #harry potter angst

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the-daiz · 6 months ago

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Speed-o’-sound sonic, falling inlove?

Genre; fluff, hcs

pairing; Speed-o’-sound sonic x reader

A/N: THIS IS VERY LONG, I REPEAT, VERY LONG HEADCANONS!!! Anyhow no joke I’ve been obsessed with sonic for like 2 years now. Like non stop, its actually insane, I HATE THAT HE’S SO UNDERRATED MAN, i need more content of him ��

There are only 2 possible answers: protective OR full blown unhealthy obsession (aka yandere)

me personally, I’m more leaning into the Protective maybe stalker-y instead of the obsessive sonic. Sonic in the show honestly navigates his emotions better than most of the people in my life so…

He’s hesitant at first, almost unsure of what the hell he’s feeling. That little flutter in his chest, that almost ghostly force that pulls his gaze towards you, that sharp yet gentle impale that strikes him in the chest whenever you catch him staring. It almost irritates him.

perhaps he was sick. Or maybe his subconscious was picking up on something dangerous emitting from you that he couldn’t sense…? Whatever it was, it kept pulling him back to you, whether it was to watch you walk through the streets as he hid in the shadows, (he convinced himself that you were up to something and planning for his downfall so he must keep an eye on you.) Or “bumping” into you while you’re grocery shopping. (He blushes when you wave at him) or even pass by your house and watch you as you sleep (wtf??? Well in his defense he only watches you for a minute or two then leaves haha)

When he picks up nothing weird about you, or nothing that would point to you being a threat to him, he starts becoming increasingly frustrated by these new set of emotions. He honestly takes a moment to himself to think, maybe while he’s training or taking a bath in a lake.

Sonic may have lived most of his life isolated in a ninja village, but it wasn’t like he never heard of romance (though he does detest it and deem it a waste of time, space, effort, strength, anything you could think of, really…) and he’s definitely seen it with how comfortable people are with PDA in the outside world.

but when he realizes… DENY AVOID DENY AVOUD, well, only for awhile, when he realizes that denying these feelings weren’t going to do anything but intensify them and even interfere with his day-to-day life. He decided he had to accept those feelings, and inturn, overcome them!

In order to overcome these feelings, he needed to understand why he had them to begin with. So he stalks you. Ten times more than he used to. Watching your every move, every decision, EVERY TURN. Picking up on every little quirk and action you did, the good ones, the bad ones, the embarrassing/awkward ones… and he found he was infatuated by all of them.

“why am I getting so much goosebumps these days… It’s like someones breathing against my ear.” -Y/N

Those minute-or-two stares at you while uou were sleeping, became longer as he memorized every smooth end, bump and feature on your enchanting face.

he tried to approach you after he realized his feelings, but oh, no, he did not expect his heart to be beating this fast, or his face to feel this hot, or his hands to feel this sweaty. When you spot him and give him a very normal greeting. He’s frozen in place and so incredibly hot. He dashes off with no further explanation, leaving you confused, but not questioning too much since he wasn’t the most normal individual from the start anyway.

Everytime he tries to say anything to you, he just stumbles and stutters, then quickly disappears in sheer humiliation.

He decides to just avoid you, but he can’t even do that with the way his mind keeps nagging at him about you. Constantly making everything he sees somehow trail right back to you. Oh do you see that? It’s a black bird! Y/N wore a black coat that one day. Is that a shoe? Mannn Y/N loves [shoe brand name]. *Sonic staring down at his hands* …Y/N has real nice hands- FUCK

One thing tho is that his interest in you doesn’t completely consume the rest of his life, he still can manage his life as normal as possible along with his training and rivalry with Saitama, it’s just a lot more of his time is spent thinking about/stalking you.

after lots and lots of trying , he found that he couldn’t get rid of the constricting feelings in his heart. And he didn’t even want to anymore, he almost adored how it made him feel. How you made him feel.

his love language is acts of service, he’s not good with physical touch or words of affirmation. So instead of trying to have a conversation with you, he starts doing more stuff for you. Watering your flowers when you forget (how does he know you forgot?? Creepy.) sweeping the dust away from your balcony with his speed. Or maybe help you with grocery shopping once he finally stops stumbling over his words as much.

How I’d imagine he’d confess, is if you confronted him first, considering his over all personality and lifestyle, the way he acts towards youis definitely not normal, its not hard to pick up on that. He denies it at first, just for a little while cause he is kind of embarrassed, but after realizing this might be the only way to successfully confront his feelings, he does confess to you, but isnt really romantic about it. More like “Yeah, I’m interested in you.” And just looks elsewhere with his brows arched downwards as usual, waiting for whatever your response might be.

If he stays stuck with his feelings for you to the point he can’t handle not really engaging with them (and I mean like holding hands or being close to you in general…) he’ll confess, again with the same blunt attitude but he’ll be more awkward about it like, I kinda wanna hold your hand sometimes, or stand next to you, or stare at your face, I think?

or he just kills you (and falls into a deep state of depression, Ill write about that scenario later, maybe)

ANYWAY, when his feelings are reciprocated, he’s just like “why??” not because he’s actually confused on why you like him, well, he is a little confused, as he is not the typical lover boy… but he mainly just wants his ego to be stroked by the person he’s been crazy over for the past few weeks.

again, his love language is acts of service, (and quality time now that he can be as close to you as he wants to be), so he’ll mostly do stuff for you, get your handmade gifts, and little stuff like that. He’ll always sneak into your house through your window, even if there was no problem with him coming thriugh the door. And he just stays there with you. Whatever you’re doing, he’ll just sit there and watch you do it, as you talk to him about your day. It makes him feel at ease, and the warmth he feels sprout in his chest when your voice reaches his ears, or when your bewitching eyes gaze lovingly into his, it makes him feel like he’s about to melt at the spot.

one thing you notice is that he often gets a bit sleepy or dozes off when he’s with you, even if its the middle of the day. It shows how at peace and how off-guard he is around you.

He’s not the romantic type so don’t expect him to give you nicknames, unless they’re insults.

as unexpected as it may seem, he rarely ever hurts your feelings. He’s very vigilant, and has stalked you long enough to know what upsets you and what doesn’t. So although he may be protective and slightly possessive over you, your relationship isn’t really “toxic” or even unhealthy.

if you’re a yapper, then you’re in luck, he LOVES listening to uou talk or gossip or info dump, and he actually listens very well. He doesn’t talk much on his own, you guys can have long conversations though, that’s no issue. But long, solemn silences aren’t a foreign thing in your relationship

but also, when he does talk its mostly about himself, his improvements, and stuff, he lovess when you acknowledge his achievements, especially if he didn’t point them out. I told you, he loves having his ego stroked, especially by you.

as for physical affection…no PDA, lets just get that out of the way, but away from prying eyes… He’s desperate, rough, aggressive and so so needyyyy. His kisses make you feel like he’s searching for something in there istg, you have to tap him aggressively a few times on the shoulder to get him to pull away before you suffocate to death. A lot of the time, your kisses don’t just end at short, simple, cute “kisses”, they lead to makeout sessions quite quickly.

He’s the cockiest, most narcissistic bastard alive btw, loves teasing you like crazy… but that’s all I’m gonna say.

anyway he love love loves you and would kill for you, very very literally.

him from one of the latest chapters omg he’s so pretty im kicking my feet and twirling my HAIIRIIRIRIRID

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cha-melodius · 10 months ago

Note

A ship of your choice firstprince, please!

A location—(Although I dare someone to send the White House or Kensington, I WILL make it into an AU. I have ideas.) Also if you want a particular historical setting, you can feel free to include a time period too. GO NUTS, please.

Well sheesh, with that kind of tease, I suggest both the White House and Kensington Palace, circa the year 2068.

I look forward to seeing what you choose to do with this! I am certain to enjoy it, whatever it is ❤️

(This was such an intriguing prompt, and I hope you enjoy what I did with it. Also happiest of birthdays to @dumbpeachjuice, who's incredible fic "make me your god" inspired this one.)

The Impossible Soul

(M, 7.2k, read it below or on AO3)

“I shouldn’t let you do this for me,” Henry tells him in the moments before.

“You should know by now that you’re not letting me do anything, sweetheart,” Alex returns. “Anyway, I’m doing this for us.”

“Even though we still won’t be able to be together?”

“I told you, it’s only temporary. Once my mom’s no longer in office, I won’t be in the spotlight. But I can’t leave you trapped here for another four years. I won’t.” Alex cups Henry’s cheek with his hand and brushes a thumb against the corner of his perfect mouth. “Besides, what if I left you here and you forgot about me?”

Henry covers Alex’s hand with his, warm and soft. “Never.”

~~~~~

One Year Earlier

Alex didn’t think he could be surprised by AIDEs at this point, but the ones populating Kensington are really something else.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here,” Prince Henry says, his blue eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as he shakes Alex’s hand.

Alex can’t help but stare. The eyes are the hardest part, or so Nora says. All the Secret Service agents’ eyes have a kind of strange metallic glint behind them. Often it’s not even noticeable, but if you look too closely, it becomes obvious. Prince Henry’s eyes are flawless, though. Just endless, perfect blue. Really, the only flaw Alex can see in this model is that they made him inhumanly beautiful. No real person has lips like that.

Henry’s hand is warm in his, his grip firm but not too tight. Alex forces himself to let go.

“Yeah, thanks,” he says, looking around rather than staying trapped in Henry’s piercing gaze.

Palace servants flit about, attending to all of the gala guests’ needs along with those of the princes and princess. Apparently, it’s a perfect recreation of the palace’s operations from the turn of the century, back before the monarchy was abolished. Now they just keep fake royalty here, like they can’t quite let go of the idea. Alex has never understood it, and visiting hasn’t really helped. Of all the things he’s had to do on this goodwill trip, this is by far the strangest, pretending to hobnob with royalty at a fancy ball like anyone does this shit anymore. Then again, maybe showing off is the whole point, same as it ever was.

It’s not like Alex isn’t used to interacting with AIDEs. The use of Artificially Intelligent Dynamic Entities is still limited more broadly, but they’re common in dangerous or sensitive jobs. The entire Secret Service was replaced by them two administrations ago; their loyalty is never in question, nor their willingness to protect their charges at all costs. Use of AIDEs for entertainment purposes is growing in popularity too, like the Kensington ones. They play the role they’re programmed to without deviation, they don’t need to eat or sleep (though they usually do, to better mimic humanity), they can be abused or even killed without repercussion and, most importantly, they don’t need to be paid.

“I hope your visit to London has been pleasant?” Prince Henry asks with perfectly-tuned amiability. It makes Alex want to push a little, though he knows Nora would tell him it’s a futile exercise.

“Mostly I’ve been spending it in lots of meetings,” Alex says. “Kinda wish I had time to go out and see more of the city.”

“I can understand that,” Henry replies, glancing toward the doors in a way that Alex would call wistful if he didn’t know better.

Can he? Do they let them leave the palace? Probably not. Does Henry want to, though? That would be a weird thing to program into an AIDE that’s supposed to stay in one place.

“I guess you probably don’t get out much, huh?” Alex asks.

Henry smiles indulgently at his bad joke. “Not so much, no. Makes it ever-so-difficult to meet people, you know.”

Alex laughs despite himself. He’s never met an AIDE that was so self-aware. If he tries to joke with Cash about taking a day off, the agent just stares at Alex blankly. “You must talk with a lot of visitors to the palace, though.”

“I do,” Henry allows, taking a sip of his champagne. “Most of them aren’t very interesting, though. All they do is ask what it’s like to be a prince.”

“And? What’s it like?”

Henry smirks a little. “Bloody boring. Not that I can tell them that, you understand.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, a little lost for words. Henry is nothing like what he was expecting. “So, what do you want to talk about, then?”

In response, Henry takes a step closer. He smells like fancy cologne, like linens and fresh grass, and something inside him seems to tug Alex closer. “Can I show you something? Still inside the palace, of course.”

Alex’s eyes flick over to June and Nora, chatting with someone he doesn’t recognize—AIDE or government official, he can’t tell—and the Secret Service agents linger at the periphery of the ballroom. He knows shouldn’t leave the event, but honestly chances are no one would notice he was gone. Plus, his curiosity is through the roof.

Henry takes him to a library. There are barricades set up to keep the visiting public to certain areas, but Henry slips past them and Alex follows him. Watches as Henry walks down the rows with a small, private smile curving his lips, trailing a finger along the spines. He pauses and plucks a book off the shelf—Pride and Prejudice, Alex can just make out—and smooths a hand lovingly over the cover.

“I love to read,” Henry says, almost to himself. His eyes flick up to Alex’s, shining brightly in the low light. “All those worlds… They’re incredible, don’t you think?”

Alex doesn’t know what to say. AIDEs don’t read. They don’t dream of other worlds.

“The rest of your… family,” Alex says, diplomatically. “Are they like you? I mean, with the reading.”

Henry laughs quietly and shakes his head. “No. No one’s like me.”

Alex is rapidly coming to that same conclusion.

~~~~~

“There’s nothing special about the Kensington AIDEs,” Nora tells him, sounding more beleaguered than necessary. “We talked to Princess Beatrice for like an hour, it was the same as any other AIDE. Pleasant, but a little vacant. The eyes are a neat trick, though.”

“I’m telling you, Henry is different,” Alex insists. “We talked all night. He’s aware of what he is. He reads and he thinks and he feels. Fuck, Nora, he dreams when he sleeps.”

“AIDEs don’t sleep. Not really.”

“Henry does.”

“Someone just got a little creative with the programming,” Nora says dismissively. “He’s supposed to say those things to make him seem more real. If you went back, he probably wouldn’t even remember you.”

“And what if he did?”

“Alex—”

“What if he did remember me? What if all of it really is real?” Alex presses.

Nora frowns at him. “Then there are some major ethical implications that current AI laws are frankly not prepared to deal with,” she says bluntly. “Look, it’s just not possible. They don’t have feelings, period. He’s just a fancy computer.”

“Fine. Whatever you say,” Alex huffs, mostly because he doesn’t want to have this argument anymore. She’s not going to change his mind, and clearly he’s not going to change hers.

“Promise me you’ll leave this alone. We can’t afford some kind of diplomatic incident because you got a crush on the prince AIDE.”

Alex glares at her. It’s not a crush. “I’ll leave it.”

He absolutely will not.

~~~~~

Cash doesn’t blink—literally—when Alex tells him that he’ll be visiting Kensington Palace again rather than the scheduled afternoon tea with some MP he couldn’t care less about. He sends his apologies with an excuse that he’s not feeling well and heads to the main entrance with the rest of the tourists. He has no idea where Henry might be, but AIDEs don’t take days off, so it stands to reason that he’ll be somewhere acting princely, or whatever he does all day.

Unfortunately, he gets stuck on a tour led by an AIDE with a dirty blonde bob and green eyes who most definitely shows none of Henry’s spark. It’s boring as fuck, and he almost bails more than once, but this place is huge and he’d probably get lost forever before he found Henry. They go past a few rooms Alex recognizes, but there’s no sign of the ‘royal family’ anywhere, and Alex starts to worry. Maybe they only trot them out for big events. Maybe you have to buy a special tour package. Ugh, his mom is going to kill him if he ditches any more events.

“Next, we’ll visit the palace library,” the guide says, and Alex perks up.

This has got to be his chance. Henry had said they were basically allowed free run of the palace so long as they remained in areas where they’d run into visitors during operating hours, and Alex knows there’s nowhere Henry would rather be than the library. Sure enough, he’s reading in a massive armchair by one of the windows, though he gets up when the tour group enters and comes over to talk to them. His face is fixed in a pleasant, bland smile as he looks over the group, until his eyes land on Alex. The flash of recognition is clear, even if he recovers quickly, and Alex’s heart thuds a little harder in his chest.

He lingers toward the back as the rest of the visitors ask Henry about living in the palace and being a prince—exactly as he said they would. He answers graciously, of course, the words so bland and scripted that Alex almost wonders if maybe he hadn’t been drinking too much champagne during the gala. But he hangs back when everyone else files out, and as soon as Henry turns to him, his eyes practically light up.

“You came back,” Henry says, his voice soft with something like wonder.

“Of course I did,” Alex replies. “We didn’t finish our conversation.”

Henry ducks his head, blond hair falling alluringly over his forehead as his cheeks turn pink. The way their bodies mimic human physiology is astounding sometimes. “I suppose we didn’t. Would you care to walk with me in the gardens? It’s a lovely day.”

“Can we do that?”

“Ironically, you’re allowed so long as you have one of us with you, and I’m allowed so long as I’m with a guest,” Henry explains. “Plus, you’re a foreign dignitary. No one will bother us.”

“Sure you wanna be seen with me? My sister would say I’m the furthest thing from dignified,” Alex says, grinning probably a little too broadly.

Henry’s smile slants mischievous as he steps close enough for Alex to get a noseful of linen and fresh grass again. “Maybe I like that about you.”

~~~~

“Have you ever been outside the palace?” Alex asks on his next visit. Nora had given him a look like she knew exactly what he’s been up to when he’d begged off from an official tour of the British Museum, even though he hasn’t brought up Henry again. The fact that she’d found him down a rabbit hole of academic papers about AIDE psychology probably hadn’t helped anything.

“Not that I remember,” Henry answers. It’s rainy today, so they’re ensconced in some kind of parlor with ornate, uncomfortable furniture. The fact that Henry only knows this life is outrageous. Has he ever truly been comfortable? Does anyone even care? “They gave me a basic knowledge of London as a background. I’m supposed to be fond of the Victoria & Albert Museum, but I’ve never seen it myself.”

“That’s fucked up,” Alex blurts.

Henry shrugs. “It’s just how it is.”

“How does none of this ever seem to bother you?”

“It can’t bother me, Alex. My entire existence has been—and will be—only this, and if I allowed any of it to bother me, I’d go mad.”

This does not, in fact, make Alex feel any better about the situation. “Guess I’ll just have to be angry for the both of us, then.”

“I’d rather you weren’t,” Henry says mildly. “It’s no use being upset about my life. Nothing can be changed.”

“Bad idea to tell me something can’t be changed, sweetheart. I fucking love a challenge,” Alex returns. He’s not joking, but Henry laughs anyway. “I’m serious, Henry. You deserve to get things you want, too.”

“What if I said I wanted you not to worry about it? That I want you to be happy?”

“Because you’re programmed to?” Alex counters, letting more bitterness than he means to slip into his voice.

Henry reaches out and slides a hand over Alex’s fist where it’s curled on his thigh. “Because I like you, Alex.”

~~~~

On the last visit he can manage before he leaves London, Alex brings Henry a cell phone.

“What’s this for?” Henry asks when Alex hands it to him. It’s a cheap smartphone, pay as you go, something that Alex can renew the data and minutes on remotely.

Alex frowns at him. He would have figured Henry would be familiar with the concept of phones, but maybe they purposefully programmed him to not recognize it. “It’s for communication. Audio, text, video—”

“I know what a phone is, Alex,” Henry says wryly, interrupting him before Alex can make a fool of himself. “I mean why are you giving it to me?”

“I’d like to keep talking to you after I go home,” Alex tells him, feeling oddly exposed by the question. “If that’s something you’d like, too.”

Henry smiles, almost bashfully. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“I assume you’re not allowed to have that,” Alex says with a nod at the phone.

“I don’t think anyone would consider it a possibility that we might,” Henry muses, “but I’ll keep it hidden nonetheless.”

“Good plan.”

“I’m going to miss your visits, Alex,” Henry says earnestly. “I’ll miss you.”

AIDEs can’t miss things, Alex’s brain supplies, an oft-repeated truism. He feels vaguely sick, leaving Henry here like this.

“Yeah,” Alex croaks, unable to quite meet Henry’s bright blue eyes. “I’ll miss you too.”

~~~~~

“How would you get a site-locked AIDE off the premises?” Alex casually asks Nora one late night at the Residence, when they’re deep in the weeds of polls and projections.

The campaign has been rough; rougher than the first one. Or maybe it’s just that Alex is far more involved in the filthy underbelly of it this time around. The experience has definitely made him question his resolve to go into politics. Then again, sometimes it feels like his only option to make a difference in the way he wants to. These days he frequently gets into arguments about the need for more protections for AIDEs, though right now it feels like a losing battle. They’re not supposed to need protections, that’s the point of them, and no one believes him when he suggests that they might have more in common with humans than previously believed.

It’s been months. Months of texting, and phone calls, and occasional video chats. Months of getting to know Henry—the real him, beyond his programmed backstory. For his part, Henry has seemingly blossomed further with access to the internet. Alex was admittedly not certain that was a great idea, but Henry seems to stay off the darker parts. He watches a lot of Bake Off, apparently. He’s obsessed with some cute beagle account on Instagram. He reads travel blogs and insists that just knowing that these wonderful places exist is enough for him.

Alex doesn’t believe him. Well, he believes Henry believes that, but that doesn’t stop Alex from yearning to show Henry some of them in person. Even something in London would be worth it. Hence, the question.

Nora looks at him like she knows exactly what he’s on about. He’s kept his correspondence with Henry a secret from everyone, but he’s pretty sure she suspects something is up. Him broaching this topic all but confirms that, but he needs the help.

“Permanently, or short-term?” she asks.

“Let’s go with short-term to start.”

Another capital-L Look. “Well,” she says eventually, “I would probably hack into the control system and override the barrier protocols. These systems are self-healing, though. You’d have a couple of hours at most.”

“And what happens if the AIDE was off-site when the system kicked back on?” Alex asks.

“Depends on the program. Possibly just an alarm or something. Most of the time it’s full deactivation though.”

“They kill them?”

“AIDEs aren’t alive, Alejandro,” Nora says pointedly. Alex bites his tongue. “But yes, in a manner of speaking.”

“Fuck,” Alex breathes, wiping his hands over his face. “And to permanently get him out?”

It’s a slip. He’s not dumb enough to think she missed it, though she doesn’t show it.

“Not entirely sure,” she admits. “I’d need one of the tablets they use to control them so I could go into the AIDE’s code. And good luck with that; the companies that make them have some of the tightest security out there.”

“Yeah, of course.”

She turns back to her laptop, and Alex half-expects the conversation is done, at least for now. But then, as she’s typing, she says, “I assume this isn’t idle curiosity.”

Alex sighs. “No.”

~~~~~

It takes nine months from their first meeting for Alex to find a reason to visit London. His mother offhandedly mentions sending someone to some conference he doesn’t really care about, and he jumps at the chance. All he can think about is Henry. Being in the same city as him again. Seeing him. Touching him.

Alex has had time to come to terms with his desire for Henry. Honestly, the bisexuality was easy compared to the AIDE aspect of it. Nora is fond of pointing out that they’re literally designed to be desirable, even the ones not populating what basically pass for sexy amusement parks, but Alex doesn’t just want Henry physically. He wants to spend time with him, to make him laugh and see the crinkle of his eyes not through a phone screen.

Frankly, he also wouldn’t mind a little clarity on the whole situation. To either get incontrovertible proof that Henry is fundamentally the same as a person, or else be reminded that he isn’t, that Alex has deluded himself into believing Henry was more than a machine (a possibility that Nora regularly reminds him of).

On the flight over, Alex finds himself watching Cash, not for the first time. He’s doing a sudoku puzzle, which can’t really be much of a challenge for him. Still, he works on them religiously. Did someone program that into him? Or does Cash actually enjoy doing them?

“Do you like your job, Cash?” Alex asks.

Cash looks up at him, setting his ballpoint pen down—he does the puzzles in pen because he never makes a mistake. He’s got an expression on like he doesn’t really understand Alex’s question, even though it should be straightforward. “It’s my job,” he finally says.

“Yeah, but do you like it?” Alex pushes. “Do you find it fulfilling?”

The tip of his head means Cash is analyzing Alex’s body language. After another moment, he says, “Yes.”

Alex can’t quite hold back a sigh. The answer is predictable. Cash is only saying that because he thinks Alex wants to hear it. That’s what AIDEs do, they anticipate your needs and wants.

“Is that not the right answer?” Cash asks, frowning.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alex says.

He knows Cash won’t.

~~~~~

Henry is understandably nervous about the plan. It is, after all, his life on the line.

“The control system will go down at the very end of the visiting day, so we can slip out with the exiting crowds,” Alex tells him. “It’s gonna look like maintenance, which shouldn’t set off any red flags right away. Between that and the roadblocks Nora’s set up, we should have five hours.”

“For what?” Henry asks.

Alex just grins. “It’s a surprise, sweetheart.”

Henry looks even more human in Alex’s Longhorns baseball cap and hoodie. Soft. Dangerously so. It makes Alex want to do reckless things. Instead, he sets his watch for four and a half hours and reminds himself how high the stakes are. He’s arranged everything just so tonight. No surprises.

The escape goes off without a hitch, and Alex breathes a sigh of relief once they’re making their way through the crowded city streets. Out here, the two of them are completely unremarkable, even with Cash trailing a few steps behind them. Henry seems to take it all in stride, though Alex doesn’t miss the quiet looks of awe that steal over his face as he takes in the city. They stop and get falafel at a food truck. Henry asks to pet every dog they come across. He looks indescribably happy in a way that makes Alex’s heart clench in his chest.

At the back entrance to the museum, Alex pays off the night guard—not an AIDE, thank god, they’re nearly impossible to bribe—and they slip inside, leaving Cash by the door. It doesn’t take long for Henry to catch on.

“You brought me to the V&A,” Henry breathes as he looks around.

It had seemed like the obvious choice, after what Henry had told him. “I’ve never actually been here,” Alex admits.

“That’s all right, love,” Henry says, grinning now. “I know my way around.”

Alex has never been so enraptured by someone telling him about art, but it’s impossible not to be taken in by the passion with which Henry speaks about the sculptures. He tells Alex about Tipu’s Tiger, about Giambologna, about Narcissus and Zephyr and Pluto rendered exquisitely in marble. His programming hadn’t bothered to give him anything more than a general interest; all of Henry’s knowledge comes from reading in the palace library—and now on the phone Alex gave him—and he’s apparently done a lot of it. His programming also has nothing to do with the wonder and emotion in his voice, with the tears that glitter in his eyes when he gets overwhelmed by the experience.

Machines don’t cry over art. They just don’t. Art is supposed to be a fundamentally human experience, which is proof enough to Alex that, whatever he was designed as, Henry is just as human as Alex is now.

~~~~~

In the Santa Chiara chapel, Henry finally pauses and turns his awe on Alex.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” he murmurs, closing the space between them until only inches remain. Alex has to tip his head up to meet Henry’s bright gaze, and his heart thuds hard in his chest. “You risked so much to give this moment to me. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You deserve it,” Alex tells him, meaning every word of it. “You deserve the entire world.”

“Alex,” Henry breathes.

Alex doesn’t think; he leans up and presses their lips together, a fleeting thing, over before he can convince himself it was a mistake. Except it was, because now he knows the softness of Henry’s lips against his, and he’ll never be satisfied with anything else. Henry’s eyes are wide when he pulls back, his lips slightly parted, and all at once Alex curses his impulsivity. What if Henry thinks that’s what he wants in return, that he owes Alex part of himself for this, when the last thing Alex wants is to take advantage of his programmed desire to please?

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

But Henry presses a hand against his face and pulls him in again, slides their lips together with intention, leaves Alex breathless when he pulls away again.

“You don’t have to do that,” Alex breathes into the silence afterward. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I want to,” Henry says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I want you, Alex.”

“You’re not just saying that because you think I want you to?”

Henry laughs a little, shaking his head. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he confesses. “I can assure you, that wasn’t programmed. And neither is this.”

This time, when Henry kisses him, Alex can’t help but smile into it.

~~~~~

They go off-plan. There are two hours left when Alex takes Henry back to his hotel room and presses him back into the bed. Peels away their clothes and kisses across warm skin that feels no different from his own under his lips. Henry gasps and twitches under him as Alex takes him in hand; for an AIDE that was only supposed to staff a museum, whoever designed him really went all out on the anatomy.

“Have you ever done this?” Alex murmurs into the crease of his hip, breathing in the scent of him. Linen and fresh grass and something else, musky and heady.

Henry shakes his head, and relief floods through Alex. It isn’t some virginity kink, ok? He’s just heard stories of how some people treat AIDEs no matter what their jobs are, like they’re free for the taking because they never say no, and he’s glad Henry’s never been in that situation.

“And you’re sure you want to with me?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Henry nearly growls. He drags Alex up from between his legs and kisses him hard, then rolls them over so he’s on top, straddling Alex’s waist. Slides back until Alex’s cock is pressing into the cleft of his ass and rocks his hips in a way that makes them both moan. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Alex is pretty sure he sees God when Henry lowers himself onto his cock, sitting upright with one hand behind him gripping Alex’s thigh and the other splayed over Alex’s chest. Or maybe it’s just that Henry looks like a god, like one of the mythical marble sculptures in the V&A, muscles rippling beneath his skin, but warm and yielding and vibrant and alive.

You’re unreal, Alex almost says, but that’s not quite it. Henry like this is very, very real. Impossible might be a better word.

Henry is impossible, and Alex is impossibly in love with him.

~~~~~

“Do you think you could steal one of the tablets they use to access your code?” Alex asks as they lie together in the darkness. His ear is pressed to Henry’s chest, listening to the steady thud of his circulatory pump—not quite a heart, but not not one either.

Henry’s hand cards through his hair, idly twirling Alex’s curls around his fingers. “What are you planning, love?”

Alex tips his face up to look at him. “Can you?”

“I doubt I can,” Henry answers after a pause, “but the technician responsible for us… he may be willing to help.”

“And you trust him?”

“He’s protected me before. I think he knows about my… differences.”

Alex hums. “How do we contact him?”

~~~~~

What Shaan Srivastava is not willing to do is speak over any sort of electronic form of communication, which Alex honestly takes as a good sign. They meet in a cafe on the other side of London, the day before Alex is set to leave.

“I want to get him out,” Alex tells him plainly. “For good.”

“Mountchristen Technologies puts numerous failsafes into the AIDEs they build,” Shaan tells him. “Trackers. Latent viruses. Kill switches.”

“Can they be disabled?”

Shaan takes a sip of his tea. “I have an idea, but I have no way of implementing it. I’m just responsible for keeping them in good working order. I’m not a coder.”

The hope that flares up in Alex’s chest is dangerous but oh-so-seductive. “I think I know someone who could help with that.”

~~~~~

“This is insane,” Nora tells him. “You honestly think it’s a good idea to pull off some kind of heist from the world’s biggest tech company a month before the election?”

“No,” Alex says reasonably. “That’s why we’re waiting until after. I convinced mom to let me take a trip to London between New Years and the inauguration.”

Nora shakes her head, every movement like a knife in Alex’s gut. “I can’t do this. I won’t. I never should have helped you on that little excursion in the first place, but this is a whole ‘nother level. We could both go to jail for who knows how long. And for what? Because you fucked an AIDE and now you want him for yourself?”

“Fuck you,” Alex nearly shouts. “I love him, asshole! I can’t let him stay a— a slave in that fucking palace.”

“He’s a machine! That’s what he was designed for, Alex!”

“Maybe he was, but that doesn’t mean that’s what he is now,” Alex insists. He holds out the tablet that she has yet to take from him. “Just look at his code. Even I can tell it isn’t like anything else out there.”

Finally, she snatches the tablet from him and jabs at it a few times. Her frown gets deeper. “There’s something wrong with this tablet,” she says eventually. “It’s not displaying things properly.”

“It is.”

“It can’t be, this level of complexity is impossible—”

“He’s writing his own fucking code, Nora,” Alex interrupts. Shaan had explained his theory on Henry’s code as best he was able before Alex left London. “With every one of the choices he was never supposed to be able to make. That’s why it looks like that.”

Heavy silence stretches between them as Nora stares at the tablet, occasionally swiping around and tapping. She chews on her lip. “It shouldn’t be possible,” she mutters, half to herself.

“But it is. He is. Please, Nora,” Alex pleads, not caring how desperate he sounds. “I’ll do anything.”

“Yeah, well. Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

~~~~~

“You need to understand that the changes to his code means that accessing the safeguards is much more difficult.”

“Ok.”

“And I can’t guarantee that this will work. We can’t test it out. Once we shut him down, there’s no way to know exactly what will happen when we boot him back up again. He might come back the same as he is now, but he also might undergo some kind of reset. Even if he retains his free will, he might not remember his life before. He might not remember you.”

Alex swallows hard. “I understand.”

“Does he?”

~~~~~

It takes Alex a month to work up the nerve to broach the topic with Henry. On video call not long after the election, he explains Nora’s plan, how they need to do a full shutdown so she can extract the safeguards like a surgeon. He makes himself explain the risks even though his first impulse is to downplay them. Henry deserves to know, deserves to make the decision for himself. Alex would be a huge fucking hypocrite to take that away from him.

That doesn’t mean he’s required to like Henry’s reaction, though.

“It’s too much risk,” Henry says, a stubborn look on his face that Alex is very familiar with by now. “Things are fine now.”

“They’re really not,” Alex argues. “You’re no better than a prisoner there, Henry. Your freedom is worth the risk.”

“It’s not.”

“Of course it fucking is!” Alex snaps, rapidly becoming frustrated by this argument.

“Not when it could mean losing you!” Henry bites out. He presses his lips together and looks away from the camera, but Alex can see the tears shining in his eyes. “My memories of you—of the museum, of us,” he says eventually, his voice unsteady, “are the only things I have that are truly mine. And you tell me I could lose them… I can’t do it. I’d rather stay here forever.”

“Don’t you understand?” Alex pleads. He wants to reach through the screen and grab him, turn his face and make Henry look at him. “I’m trying to give you the world, baby.”

“I don’t want the world,” Henry says miserably. “Please, Alex. It’s better this way. You may think this is worth it now, but one day you’ll change your mind when you realize that having a secret AIDE lover isn’t exactly compatible with a political career. You’ll want to be with a real person. Someone whose affection you can be certain isn’t just programming. Just… leave me here with my memories.”

Then Henry hangs up on him.

~~~~~

Henry doesn’t answer his calls or reply to his texts, and Alex couldn’t be more miserable. He doesn’t eat and sleeps only fitfully, which confuses his family. Everyone’s still riding a high from winning the election. They think Alex is seriously ill and try to bring in a doctor, but nothing’s physically wrong with him. He can’t tell them he’s suffering from a broken heart like some pining Victorian maiden.

On the fifth day, Nora comes storming into his bedroom in the White House and throws a duffle bag at his chest.

“Pack your shit, we’re going to London,” she says bluntly. “Also take a shower. You reek.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s Henry.” She waves the tablet in the air, which is still linked to Henry’s code in real time. “Someone’s trying to make changes to his code.”

Alex flops back down onto his bed and stares at the ceiling. “It’s probably just him deciding he’s done with me.”

“God, you’re pathetic,” she huffs, now rummaging through his dresser. “It’s not him. Looks like someone else is poking around, and that can’t be a good thing.”

That’s enough to make him rocket straight out of bed, an icy spike of dread shooting down his spine. “Have you gotten in contact with Shaan?”

Nora shakes her head. “No. He’s radio silent.”

“Fuck.”

“I booked us tickets with your credit card on a flight that leaves in two hours, so hurry the fuck up.”

“Nora, is he—” Alex starts before his voice clips off as his throat closes. He forces out, “Can you tell… is he ok?”

Her expression softens, and she puts a hand on his forearm and squeezes. “For now.”

~~~~~

The good thing about Kensington being a museum is that no one can stop him from just buying a ticket and going in. He’s been here enough times to know his way to the library, at least, which is where he goes first, barely aware that Nora’s following hot on his heels. All he can think about is Henry.

Henry’s not in the library, though, nor in any of the surrounding rooms. Alex stops a palace attendant and asks for directions to Prince Henry’s apartments, which she helpfully provides. It’s a part of the palace that’s not on any tours, but that doesn’t seem to matter. A palace attendant’s directive to be helpful to humans is off the charts, even for an AIDE.

Somehow he’s not expecting Shaan to answer the door when he knocks. Alex immediately shoulders his way into the room, anger and fear an unholy cocktail in his veins.

“Where is he? What going on here?” he demands, frantically looking around. “Henry, baby, where are you?”

“Mr. Claremont-Diaz—”

“Henry!” There’s no answer, and Alex rounds on Shaan again. “Are you doing this to him?”

Shaan sighs, and it forces Alex to look closer, to take in the bags under his eyes and the grim set to his face. “I told you, I’m not a coder, Mr. Claremont-Diaz. I have, however, been doing my best to slow their progress.”

“What’s happening?” Alex demands.

“Someone higher in the company noticed Henry’s unusual code. I’m not sure how. A standard review of the AIDEs in the palace, I suppose. Or your trip out of Kensington was less secret than you hoped.”

Fuck. None of that is good. Alex scrubs a hand over his face, forces himself to take steady breaths and not descend into a panic attack. “Ok, ok. Is he all right?”

“Alex?”

Alex’s head whips around so fast he nearly strains his neck. Henry’s standing in the doorway, dressed in his usual slacks and button-down with a blue v-neck sweater over it. He looks… normal, and Alex nearly sobs in relief.

“Baby,” he breathes, practically throwing himself across the room and into Henry’s arms. He buries his face in Henry’s neck and breathes deeply, and the barbed wire wrapped tightly around his heart loosens a little.

“What are you doing here?” Henry asks, his strong arms wrapping automatically around Alex’s body.

Alex yanks his head back and looks askance at Shaan. “Does he not know?” He stares up at Henry. “Your code is under attack.”

“Ah, yes,” Henry says carefully. “It’s not the first time.”

“This has happened to you before?” Nora asks, and Henry looks at her in shock, like he hadn’t realized she was in the room.

“You must be Nora,” he surmises. “Yes, it has. I might have thought you’d have noticed the effects in my code.”

A look of understanding dawns over Nora’s face, and she nods. “They’re like scars. Fuck. How many times?”

“It’s not important,” Henry says in a way that suggests he’s been doing this for a long time. “The main point is that I can handle them.”

“Fuck that,” Alex spits out. “I’m not letting them scar you anymore.”

Henry closes his eyes and sighs wearily as he extracts himself from Alex’s grip. “Alex, love, you shouldn’t be here—”

“No, you listen, asshole,” Alex snaps, his terror giving way to fury. “You can’t fucking hang up on me this time.”

“I told you my decision, Alex—”

“And what about what I want? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“Fine,” Henry says shortly, his own temper flaring. “You know as well as I that we can’t be together as long as your mother’s in office and the public’s eyes are on you. So if you still want me in four years, come back and we’ll talk then. You know where I’ll be.”

He says it with a humorless slant to his lips that’s probably supposed to pass as a wry grin, like it’s a joke. Alex wants to fucking scream.

“And let them keep on trying to chip away at what makes you you? Take the chance that they’ll just get rid of you?” he retorts instead. “Fat fucking chance! I’m not leaving the man I love in captivity for four fucking years!”

It takes Henry’s eyes going wide and his mouth falling open for Alex to realize what he’s said. “Alex, you can’t—”

“What, love you? Because I do,” Alex says defiantly. “And I think you love me too.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you AIDEs can’t love?” Henry says, his voice wavering as he stares at the floor.

Alex steps close, forcing Henry to look up at him, until their noses are almost brushing. “Yeah, well, I know better,” he says, low and heated. “I also know I’m not gonna want anyone else, ‘real person’ or not. You’re a real person to me, Henry, and that’s what matters.” He raises a hand to Henry’s cheek and swipes his thumb through the tear track streaking it. “You’re it for me, sweetheart. I’m never gonna love anyone like I love you, and no one can take that away. Plus,” he adds, for the first time letting a corner of his mouth tug upward, “you know how annoyingly persistent I am. If you forget me, I’ll just make you fall in love with me all over again.”

Henry lets out a wet laugh and covers Alex’s hand with his. “It won’t take long.”

~~~~~

Seeing Henry shut down is wrong. He doesn’t even look dead, he just looks… not there. There’s no light in his eyes. Alex hates it. Can’t make himself watch as Nora works furiously.

It takes longer than he expected, but eventually she takes a deep breath and mutters, “Here goes nothing,” then taps a big green button on the tablet.

Henry’s eyelashes flutter as he wakes up. He looks around the room, eyes landing in turn on Shaan, Nora, and Alex. He holds Alex’s gaze and Alex stares back as if he could make Henry remember him through sheer force of will.

“Hello,” Henry says pleasantly. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

~~~~~

Five Years Later

Alex stands at the end of the long driveway that leads to a small bungalow by the sea on a tiny island in the middle of the Caribbean. He’s got a bouquet of flowers clutched in one hand, which feels silly now. Maybe this was a mistake.

He’s kept tabs on Henry and his life after leaving Kensington. From what he can tell, Henry seems happy. He visits the markets and restaurants, knows the locals, and spends lots of time writing. He’s never taken a lover, but Alex doesn’t let himself believe that’s because of him.

It seemed easier, if they were going to have to be apart, to not fill Henry in on their history at first. At least one of them could weather the years without heartache. Alex threw himself into law school, letting nothing distract him. Graduated at the top of his class, got the job of his dreams working for a firm specializing in civil rights litigation, one of the few considering cases related to AIDE protections. He lives a pretty quiet life. No one really cares about what the former FSOTUS is up to these days. And now he’s here, half a decade later, with little more than hope.

Hope, and a wilting bouquet of flowers.

In his darker moments, he’s wondered if it wouldn’t be kinder to Henry to leave him be. Let him live his life. After all, Alex will get old and die, and Henry… won’t. No one really knows how AIDEs might break down over time—their organic-based bodies must, eventually—but their lifespans will surely be much longer than a human’s. In that context, coming back and hoping Henry will fall in love with him again seems nothing but selfish.

Still, he made a promise, and he owes it to Henry to tell him, if nothing else. Maybe Henry will decide that he’s happy as he is, that he doesn’t want the eventual heartache. He owes it to Henry to let him choose.

The gravel of Henry’s driveway crunches loudly under his shoes as he walks toward the bungalow, announcing his arrival as well as any doorbell. When he gets closer, he catches sight of Henry sitting on the porch that faces the beach, a notebook on his lap and a drink on the table next to him. They’d dyed his hair brown after fleeing Kensington, and brown it has remained. He’s still as pale as ever, though; AIDEs don’t tan or get sunburned.

He doesn’t turn at the sound of Alex’s approach, just stares fixedly out at the ocean until Alex stops at the bottom of the two steps that lead up to the porch. Alex’s heart is in his throat when Henry finally gets up and walks to the top of the steps. The smile on his face is warm, fond. Nothing like what he’d left Alex with when they’d parted.

It shouldn’t be possible… but then again, Henry is the very embodiment of the impossible.

He holds out his hand, and Alex climbs up to take it, letting Henry pull him in.

“Hello, love,” Henry says, raising a warm hand to his cheek. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

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