#VERY funny to have this touching emotional moment of love and care and truth while Gira is dressed as a taxi beetle tho. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

breathofthewildwritings · 2 years ago

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*grips your shoulders* I cannot stress enough how much I need Rauru/Reader/Sonia polyamory headcanons. Pleeeeeaaaassseeee.

(SFW and NSFW if you would be so kind!)

To me, when it comes to Rauru/Reader/Sonia polyam content, the most interesting scenario/AU to explore would be where the reader is the one sent to the past instead of Zelda, and they inadvertently alter the timeline in such a drastic way that it pulls an Age of Calamity and the series of events leading to BotW/TotK never happen in the first place.

Perhaps Ganon’s war against the fledgling Hyrule is less severe, or perhaps Rauru and Sonia are warned and prepared by the reader’s existing knowledge to let him get too powerful in the first place. Maybe the reader has divine powers themselves in some form?

I’ll make the Ganon redemption I want to see in the world.

Regardless, the reader is sent back to the age of the first king and queen of Hyrule, and is then faced with the challenge of changing the flow of time and fate itself. Lots of interesting concepts to explore within that! But of course you asked for headcanons, so let me offer some with that rambling preface out of the way:

The relationship develops a bit jarringly at first between yourself and the Hyrule royals, jumping from awkward strangers to sweet confidants, and then to abrupt lovers without much warning. Part of this is due to the frantic response you have from being plucked straight out of your own timeline and they being the only ones who know about the truth, but it’s also in part to the fact that there is a strange sort of connection the three of you share.

For the people in Hyrule after all, it is often said that all good things come in threes—wealth, prosperity, even love. It doesn’t help at all that both Sonia and Rauru are both genuinely interesting people to be around. Sonia’s wit can be as sharp as her tongue, while Rauru is a man of many stories and a lovely voice with which to tell them. They are both natural leaders, and it isn’t difficult for one seeking comfort to find it in the king and queen’s presence. Sonia’s careful touch, Rauru’s soothing voice… how far can the intimate comfort of a stranger in a strange time go before one thinks to talk about it openly?

In fact, nobody *does* talk about it for a long while, leaving things unlabeled and unmentioned until someone else entirely asks about it, perhaps even thinking it a funny joke—things are so entwined between the three of you that it’s difficult to tell whether the king or queen is the one who has a consort. Emotions unwind like a ball of yarn tumbling down a hill from there, leading to multiple awkward conversations and only the occasional lingering glance and raised eyebrow from Mineru who, perhaps more than anyone, understands some of her younger brother’s protective body language.

Sonia at least is the most forthright. She is the one to verbalize her emotions first and without very much hesitation at all, while Rauru takes a little more time to do so himself—perhaps it is a culture difference, a particular form of courtship for Zonai that he’s unable to follow. Perhaps he’s unsure how people will treat you or if they might see you as any lesser than they are as the forming couple of the new kingdom. All the same, he admits to his feelings shortly after Sonia does, though it takes a while for them to figure out how to present the relationship to their court without it being misinterpreted.

[Spicy headcanons below the cut:]

The first time you, Sonia and Rauru have sex, it is before anything is established or even *talked* about—a purely spur-of-the-moment series of actions and reactions, though there is never a moment where either the king or the queen treat it as something they regret. It’s a bit scary in a way, being a third party not only in an established relationship, but a royal one at that; but Rauru is attentive and Sonia is calming, and you are left scarcely able to concentrate between the pleasure of their lips, hands and bodies.

Be it due to the queen’s powers of time or the king’s inhuman heritage, but they have a combined sexual stamina that is either terrifying or mind-blowing depending on one’s perspective—this fact is learned repeatedly through the night of your first encounter with them, though you never quite get used to the fact that they’re completely capable of going through an entire evening without a blink of sleep.

Godspeed to you if you have a mommy and/or daddy kink, since the royal couple is more than capable, willing, and enthusiastic about partaking in such carnal desires.

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nozomijoestar · 1 year ago

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On a completely speculative note about Asulili, what do you think their relationship is like at home? I really want to know how close they are at this point. I wonder if they are at a stage where they do hug each other or hold hands, or one using the others lap as a pillow. I feel like Lili deep down is so soft for Asuka. I feel like Asuka's the type to act like she's mad about having her head on Lili's lap and getting her hair stroked but her protests are so weak that they're laughable.

They're so funny I feel like they bounce back and forth between being all over each other and just stewing in it from across the room. Shifting from intentional to unintentional affection and back too as easy as changing hats. I've written several scenes like this but say for example one is just doing her skincare routine and the other is looking at bicycle mags and they're both giving each other looks in between, which builds to comments, which may or may not build to sitting next to each other with their arms over each other's shoulders or something. Or Asuka coming over and leaning and smiling while she watches Lili work.

That's affection and touching without really thinking about it, and teasing each other over one feeding the other at dinner so that it escalates into play fighting etc. Or not touching at all but definitely looking until someone breaks into action. Then being more direct is straight up going for it whatever the contact is and not breaking it or stopping till it gets too much or something snaps them out of it.

They at the very least are holding hands in canon. 100%. Asuka of all people let Lili drag her away by the hand to keep her from fighting Devil Kaz because Asuka is insane enough to think she could just go for it. I love that Lili seems like she knew Asuka would do that and immediately went to get her bf to stop her from dying lmao. The fact Asuka let her and held her back makes it feel normal now or at least accepted. There's probably other small touches they get away with; I hesitate to assign anything bigger just because we got no FUCKING scene showing how deep they bonded they just ARE being friendly now for literally any reason. But that's just bad writing and I don't like saying something is true when I can't find reasonable evidence enough to take an educated guess. I laugh though just imagining the fucking third wheel XiaoJin and Panda were on that walk to the air strip for Lili's jet because you just KNOW that Lili would have turned it into a lecture/argument on why Asuka shouldn't have tried going for Kaz before they make up over it on the plane. And everyone else there stuck in the couple's argument has to decide how gay what they're looking at is.

Everything else is kinda fair game since we don't really know. Hugs however I feel are reserved for intense moments of emotion. But Lili absolutely has a soft spot for everyone she cares about or wants to care about (Her father, Sebastian, even trying to be connect and be concerned for Eliza in Eliza's 7 ending despite that going nowhere) and Asuka would be no exception. When she wants to give Asuka affection well Asuka's just gonna have to deal with it unless she expresses that she's genuinely not in the mood. But if she's not genuinely furious then 100% I also see Asuka as playing up annoyance or being fake mad or her anger simply melting before returning the favor or letting Lili give her affection. It stops being worth it to stay angry at her. She puts up a half hearted fight meanwhile Lili laughs and chuckles in her face knowing the truth. Oh you hate it this much? Then why are you leaning into my fingers through your hair? lol. Asuka too has to soften up herself around someone caring about her specifically. Up to this point nobody but Asuka's dad has shown her affection or cared about what she's doing- because everybody threw her away after Feng and the Jin family connection.

They're both very gentle with each other if they'd let themselves be, both openly and making it part of their little game of pride imo. Even in things like sparring I get the sense they never intend to actually hurt each other seriously, we'd probably have seen that or gotten dialogue about it if so, it's pure games at this point. It's also a mutual test of each other's abilities; in Lili's 7 ending Asuka actually says "This sucks but I can admit it's my loss!" which means hot head Asuka ISN'T taking this the same as fighting gang boys. She's not fighting to pummel and subdue she's fighting to enjoy the challenge. It's one fighter to another and if Lili proves herself better then Asuka can put her pride aside to admit that. Her unique victory line against Lili says "It's my win but feel free to come at me again." (more literal translation). In both 7 and 8 she tells Lili this time they'll settle everything. To me that sounds like she gives her and their fights a level of respect and restraint. It means something beyond I'm Good You're Bad I Punish You. And should someone (most likely Lili let's be real) get hurt to a level that makes it uncomfortable then the first aid comes out after the fight. If they're already holding hands then by Tekken 9 we will see marriage even more PDA casual or not I bet you.

EDIT: The fact Asuka has to be provoked at all to fight Lili and now in 8 she has lines remarking on changes in Lili's strength/technique is a massive indicator that she doesn't equate Lili with how she fights boys. When Asuka has fought boys SHE is the one doing the provoking (see her TT2 ending because it's the only direct glimpse we get on how she handles gangs) while technically you can say "Asuka isn't provoking people she's just telling them to not fight" YES BUT- she deliberately uses a belittling tone and patronizing language in doing so. Pay attention to the way she phrases things. In Japanese she even directly calls what the boys do "being an eyesore". She also doesn't explain why they shouldn't hit each other in public beyond it's just a bad thing to do. She talks as if either she herself has a simplistic view of the situation (ie. Her child like moral view in general) or as if she's purposefully talking in a way to provoke the kinds of people she knows will be provoked to hitting her this way. Or both.

Now I might include this in La Vie en rose i'm not sure lmao

#tekken #asulili #asuka kazama

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inflammatoryfandomblog · 2 years ago

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okay here are my thoughts on the great ace attorney games: they’re good.

i like the fact that they’re distinct from the trilogy. on top of being a lazy pc-player snob, the main reason i have not yet touched apollo, athena, and kurain people is because it feels too much like the trilogy for me. i am someone who thought that trials and tribulations and justice for all were superfluous when i first finished the phoenix wright trilogy. so i didn’t necessarily feel like revisiting the same cast.

the tgaa characters were pretty fun. i loved susato as an assistant (and while naruhodo is basically milk, he’s the zanier one of the two) and she felt very distinct from maya; van zieks was a dick but he was a dick who cared about justice unlike worthy and franny at their outsets (the most realistic thing about this game is how his racism actively works against justice in the soseki cases even when he cares about justice.) i love sholmes (”i said i knew a smattering of japanese!”) and the game is a real love letter to sir arthur conan doyle’s stories.

especially with the reveal that his real partner was mikotoba (which makes susato’s admiration for him like 10x more hilarious), it does feel like the main idea for this game was “man what if japanese people like us got to hang out sherlock holmes, that’s awesome.” and you know what. it certainly feels awesome to play through.

and it’s very nice to tie in such a classic series with ace attorney, precisely because the games are so detached from reality anyways. take for example ace attorney’s view of justice and the purpose of courtrooms as a sort of socratic exercise to find the truth. the main motivation behind this is obviously to intensify the feelings of catching people’s conflicting stories with evidence, but it also puts this glossy, idealized sheen over everything in the series.

you’re not actually in the historic British or the Japanese Empires; this is the epcot version of all these things, and it’s fun to be in epcot. ace attorney is a funny lawyer game and even at its worst it never has any pretentions about tacking Big Issues.

(if you’re wondering how i feel about the “oh xyz character is a COLONIZER!!!!” discourse surrounding this game, that’s it in a nutshell lmao.)

weirdly i disliked the first two cases of the first game and the last two cases of the last game. i found the twist with kazuma and the TRUE story of the professor to be... kind of underwhelming, honestly. kazuma’s arc of Becoming a Prosecutor has no real emotional weight to it; he spends like two cases defending a dead person from the prosecution stand and stays a prosecutor because.... uh.... there was darkness inside him? it’s just not really compelling drama compared to von karma raising edgeworth to be the thing his father would have hated, for instance.

similarly the true story of what happened and how it panned out felt oddly by-the-numbers, and stronghart was basically shitty damon gant. i don’t remember a single thing about stronghart besides the one moment he takes like 6 literal hours of your day to talk to you about forensics. and he’s so much more powerful than damon gant; if you remember, gant was just the chief of police, stronghart was literally so powerful he could pull diplomatic strings, and while gant’s actions and mistakes made sense, stronghart’s decisions feel extremely weird when you think about it for two seconds.

but even in those cases, which i found wanting, i really appreciated how, for instance, the last case incorporated the investigation mechanics in a new way, how the second case of the first game tried something with it being only investigations, etc etc. in general the structure of the cases was much harder to predict and it made each one structurally very different and memorable.

one other thing i liked is that the characters feel three-dimensional they way they were in the original ace attorney one. one gripe i had with the trilogy is that slowly characters just degraded/got flanderized over time. it doesn’t happen here; almost every character ends this duology with more aspects to them than what they started with. aside from sholmes, who i really liked because he was a funny idiot genius, my other favorite character is actually gregson. he doesn’t have a dramatic backstory or anything, but i feel like he was pretty multifaceted as it goes.

the jury system was a good addition and it was something that was much better in tgaa2 than in tgaa1, where the juries’ whole shtick was “oops!!!! i am deeply involved in this case!!!” as opposed to them being other perspectives in the courtroom. i really disliked the jurors in tgaa1, which wasn’t helped by the amounts of summation examinations we had to endure in that game. in tgaa2 they were much better; it’s a shame that we only had them for 2 cases there.

other than that; it’s a blast, i really liked it and it really made itself different than what came before. there are other nitpicks/small elements i could praise, but it’s like very late and i’m tired.

#ace attorney #tgaa1 #tgaa2 #me.txt #begone thought

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taechaos · 4 years ago

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Web of Lies

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Soyeon is honest, Taehyung is using his last breaths to tell you the truth, and Jungkook is lying. It seems that everything you know boils down to Jungkook lying.

warnings: angst, panic attack, dry humping, the TINIEST bit of fluff

word count: 4.3k

Obstacles are inevitable in relationships; there’s always something that must go wrong. They can come in the form of arguments, disagreements, actions, or people like Taehyung. One physical obstacle that always knows when Jungkook is with you.

A few days after the fight between the two close friends, Taehyung’s nose somewhat healed and Jungkook doesn’t shy away from you as frequently. What’s the point when the people he tried to hide you from found out about his relationship with you anyway? The only reason he doesn’t approach you every time he sees you is because: 1. He doesn’t enjoy being clingy; that would mean he likes being around you all the time which he refuses to admit. 2. You would probably get tired of him and stop loving him. 3. He kissed your friend who always sits next to you outside.

Now that he’s taking most of his opportunities to talk to you, and maybe kiss you, Taehyung is growing restless. Every time Jungkook is with you, so is Taehyung. Some. Fucking. How.

To name one of the busts: when Jungkook was kissing you in the university’s hallway two days ago, Taehyung popped in out of nowhere and shouted, “Get a room, you sluts!” It made for a good laugh between the students, especially when Jungkook ran after him out of the building.

Another time is when Jungkook was watching you work in the yard and Taehyung joined you two to ask about that “one hot friend of yours”. You ended up telling him about Soyeon and Minnie while Jungkook glared at Taehyung that conveyed a clear message: Don’t. So, he didn’t. It didn’t have anything to do with getting elbowed when you weren’t looking.

It was because that would ruin the fun, and he has a sense of purpose while roaming the entire campus to make his fourth bust of the week. He’s searched the hot and empty spots, but he just can’t find the passionate couple anywhere. If he can’t keep disrupting their displays of affection, how will Jungkook get annoyed enough to spill the truth to you? You deserve that much, and if you still accept him, then Taehyung’s out of the picture.

Why can’t Jungkook see that?

For starters, one of the reasons is Jungkook is distracted and growing very irritated by the heavy stare he feels digging into his skin. Who the fuck is watching him? He thought it would be nice to keep you company in the main campus library by controlling your hand under the table over his clothed erection while you skim through your textbook for a light revision, but a pair of eyes behind a bookshelf won’t stop glaring into his soul through thick frames that he can’t see.

He blows out a breath and screws his eyes shut. His jaw clenches and you immediately catch on, worriedly asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s fucking watching me and I can’t get off,” he grits. Your cheeks heat and grow crimson when you glance down at your occupied hand, palmed by his bigger one in a tight grip.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, “we can go to my dorm, if you’d like? Whatever you want.” In an act of comfort, you stupidly start caressing his length until he stands up.

“Gotta confront the fucker.”

Right when he raises his foot to take a step in the direction that his senses lead him to, Taehyung joins in on the mission. “Who are we confronting?” he asks casually with an arm over Soyeon’s shoulder, who is trying to suppress a grimace at the intervention. Jungkook glances at him and then your friend before sucking his teeth and rolling his eyes.

You grin brightly at the greeting and explain, “Someone's watching him. He’s going to find the stalker.”

“Might’ve been me, oops,” Taehyung raises his brows guiltily before slumping on a wooden chair adjacent to you, looking around the spacious area that makes him feel too loud. When he notices Soyeon still standing, he tells her, “come, sit,” and pats the seat next to him. She does so timidly. “Isn’t it so wonderful—”

“Why are you here?” Jungkook interrupts, but Taehyung continues, “—that we’re forming a friend group of our own? We’re all so familiar with each other.”

“Oh, Soyeon hasn’t met Jungkook yet.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you with a scrunch of his nose. “Sure about that?” Jungkook strides behind his chair and starts massaging his shoulders; a very harsh massage that has him holding back a wince. “Oh, Kook, that’s a bit rough. Tell me, is he like this in bed too?”

You gape at him in surprise, bashful because your lover doesn’t kiss and tell, and he doesn’t look too happy about it either.

“Tae…” Jungkook snarls.

“Well, is he, Soyeon?”

The library’s silence graces your table as everyone falls quiet, if you don’t count Taehyung’s groans at Jungkook’s bruising hold that is. Soyeon’s jaw drops and her eyes widen at the sudden switch in your gaze, searching for answers from her. “That’s not funny, Taehyung,” she breaks the silence with her blunt statement.

“Don’t mind him, baby, he has brain damage,” Jungkook spits and brings a hand up to Taehyung’s hair to yank it back. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” he whispers in his ear.

Your features begin to soften from its hard expression until Taehyung smiles wickedly at you. “Oh yeah, it wasn’t sex, was it? It was a tongue battle-” His voice cuts off the moment Jungkook starts choking him with his elbow, and his gags fall on deaf ears. Soyeon tries to push him off, but you’re just blank because Jungkook isn’t denying it; it was as if he was expecting it, trying to stop him all along.

The sudden interest in your friend, the constant interruptions, the hits…

“Soyeon?” you call quietly with welling up tears. “Did you kiss him?”

Your best friend doesn’t lie, and apparently neither does Taehyung. Does Jungkook lie? You’re conflicted between living in bliss, ignoring the dying man in front of you because your boyfriend might have kissed Soyeon, and facing reality by asking the hard questions.

Her hands are still tugging on his shirt to save Taehyung, but her persistence weakens when she looks at you: guilty and… exposed? “I didn’t know it was him,” she confesses. It is indirect, and doesn’t reveal much except that she kissed the one man she wasn’t supposed to.

“When?”

“The party,” Taehyung wheezes as he struggles against Jungkook’s arm, his nails drawing blood on his skin. His face is red from the lack of oxygen but he isn’t worried about dying.

“Oh, he put you up to this, didn’t he?” Jungkook speaks through clenched teeth to Soyeon. “They’re setting me up, and who the fuck is watching me?!”

You stand up slowly and close your textbook with a soft thud, packing your materials so graciously. Your hands are shaking, but the tears blurring your vision don’t matter to you. Soyeon is honest, Taehyung is using his last breaths to tell you the truth, and Jungkook is lying. You sling your bag over your shoulder and trudge to the exit, counting your steps to calm down. You ignore Jungkook asking you where you’re going, Taehyung gasping for breath, and Soyeon telling him to leave you alone. It’s all muffled and you’re too sad to care.

It’s a case of he said she said, but your heart is siding with your friends with how painfully it pounds against your chest. Your trust in Jungkook couldn’t have been that fragile, could it? Why did it break with one sentence?

Heavy footfalls follow you beyond the exit, but you’re too distracted by trying to move your legs steadily to notice. It isn’t important enough to distract you from someone calling your name though, or the light weight of a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hm?” you say without looking up, frozen in your steps.

“A-Are you okay?” A smooth voice asks.

“I’m a bit sad,” your voice cracks and wavers from holding back a meltdown, “hurt.” You want to recognize the blurred image of the man standing next to you, so you blink and a tear sheds from each eye. “I told you to never talk to me again, Jimin.” You feel overwhelmed, and yet the memory of the blackmail has little impact on your mess of emotions, but it doesn't help you feel better either.

“Sorry,” he breathes, “I still don’t understand why, but you can do the talking for me. Wh-what happened?”

“Why do you ask? So you can use that against me too?” you scoff through the lump in your throat. Confusion washes his soft features, so you add, “maybe another handjob for it?” You shrug off his hand and continue your walk of shame.

“I-I’ve never used anything against you, what are you talking about?” He’s chasing after you and it’s a bit of help in swaying your thoughts in a different direction, and your emotions towards anger and disbelief instead.

“Does a video ring a bell? The one you threatened to leak if I didn’t touch your…” You groan to yourself and quicken your pace towards your dorm. Maybe you could mope comfortably in there without the annoying presence of an arch enemy, who is feeding you more lies than you’re capable of consuming in one day.

“What? I never— Listen, I deleted that video the second I received it. Whoever told you that was lying, please!”

It seems that everything you know boils down to Jungkook lying. His love was a lie too, apparently. Maybe the Jungkook you know is just one big fat lie who can’t seem to tell you the truth in any moment you’ve been with him. How many times do you need to hear from others and yourself that Jungkook is lying?

“I know,” you whimper and run off.

Once Taehyung catches his breath after coughing for a minute straight with a fresh bruise blossoming on his neck, he interrupts the hushed argument between Jungkook and Soyeon by asking, “Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know, but you’re going straight to hell once I fucking kill you for good,” Jungkook fumes with flushed cheeks.

“If you die by murder, you go straight to Heaven. How do you not know this?” His voice is low from the assault and his throat aches, but he still attempts to lighten the mood.

“I swear to fucking God, Taehyung—” Jungkook stops his threat when he sees Soyeon sneakily walking away. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Air,” Soyeon vaguely answers.

“Bullshit.” Jungkook tries to go after her, wanting to be the first to find your dorm so she doesn't say more about that night, but Taehyung holds onto his wrist to stop him.

“She needs time—”

“Fuck off.”

When Jungkook begins to walk off after yanking off his hand, Taehyung immediately searches around the room and takes out a pen from a cup on the reception desk before jumping Jungkook from behind just as he was about to leave. They struggle against each other and start rolling around, but Taehyung is driven by adrenaline as he grounds himself on top of him. He holds him down with his legs and uncaps the pen to start writing on his forehead.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Everyone in the library peeks at the commotion due to Jungkook’s loud yell, but neither of them pay mind as he tries to move away from the pen.

“See if she takes you seriously with dick written on your forehead,” Taehyung chuckles before sprinting off with him hot on his tail. Jungkook is stronger, but Taehyung is much faster as he loses him pretty quickly by hiding in an occupied lecture hall. The professor looks at him questioningly but he thinks fast and breathlessly asks the students, “Is Jeon Jungkook here? The headmaster is looking for him.” Some people search for him, but when no one makes a peep, he escapes the room and Jungkook’s wrath.

Now to go to your dorm before Jungkook scrubs off the ink…

“I didn’t know his name,” Soyeon murmurs while fidgeting with her fingers. When she came in the room, you were muffling your sobs with your pillow and all she saw was your jerking shoulders. She tried to comfort you, to hug you, but you weren’t exactly being friendly, and the setting is pretty much the same except she’s sitting on your bed while you still cry. “I asked people what he looked like, but it was just a description of every guy in the room. He wasn’t around for them to point at, and so I thought maybe he didn’t come. Then this guy kisses me on this couch, feels guilty about it, and tells me his name. I-I didn’t know it was Jungkook. He left for you anyway…”

Her attempt at consolation is fruitless because it only makes you cry harder. She rubs your back soothingly before standing up. “I’ll check up on you later. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” You nod against your stained pillow.

The moment she opens the door, Taehyung’s fist misses her head by an inch. “Oops,” he says before gently pushing her aside by her shoulder and entering. His eyes fall on your fetal position first thing and he pouts at you. “Aw, baby—”

“She doesn’t want to talk right now.”

“I’m good company,” he dismisses her with a flick of his wrist, “you can go.”

She rolls her eyes before shutting the door, and it’s only you and him now. Your hiccups fill the room as he sadly watches you, a quiet sigh leaving his mouth. “I tried to tell you. Well, I tried to get him to tell you.”

“Y-You said,” you snivel against the sheet, “th-that he was whipped for me.”

I said that to get you to open up. Even in his head it sounds cruel, so he rethinks his response with a grimace. “Jungkook told me he liked you.” Maybe shifting the blame wasn’t exactly much better, especially since he told him that after the claim, but you have enough on your plate.

“H-He told me he loved me,” you hiccup, releasing your death grip on the poor pillow. It’s a mask rather than a silencer now. Taehyung widens his eyes to himself and purses his lips. He takes Soyeon’s former seat and turns you on your back. His heart sinks a little when he sees your face: red nose, heavy lids, bloodshot eyes and quivering lips with messy hair. You look really pretty to him right now. “He lies so much. H-He even made me give Jimin a handjob.”

“Made you?” he repeats with his thumb drawing circular patterns on your collarbone.

You nod. “It’s a long story, and I don’t want to talk about it. It was horrible.”

His brows furrow at your tone. “That’s so fucked up... Man, you need to avoid him.”

“Jimin?”

“Jungkook. That’s too twisted, even for him. You’re an angel…” his palm reaches for your cheek and his thumb continues its soothing motions. “You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thank you,” you mouth and fresh tears brim as you try to swallow. It feels like you’re sick all over again, except there’s no misunderstanding to clear this time. He wipes a stray teardrop and smiles down at you; it’s a relaxing gesture. You close your eyes and hold onto his wrist, snuggling into his warm hand.

“I sound really cheesy, don’t I?” he chuckles. “Can’t lie, wish I had someone call me an angel after I caught my ex cheating on me.”

An involuntary giggle erupts from your mouth at his joke. “You’re an angel, Taehyung. An angel in disguise.” You peek at him before fluttering your eyes shut again. A pursed smile graces his lips, and he’s convinced he isn’t interested in you romantically, that it was just an invisible force drawing him closer to you, that he wasn’t the one aiming for your lips until a pound on the door resounds in the room.

You flinch away from his hand and he pulls back instantly; both of your heads shoot to the source of the noise.

“Open up!” Jungkook yells and continues fisting the door. “Open the fucking door!” Taehyung holds a finger against his lips, signalling you to stay silent until he leaves. “I want to talk. Open the door… please.” Neither of you say anything.

“Fine,” he agrees, “don’t talk. I’ll talk, but at least give me a sign that you’re here.” Before Taehyung can stop you, you rush to the door and knock once. You hear him slide down the door, presumably leaning his back against it and sitting on the floor. “Okay. I’m sor— They were lying—” you slam your fist against the door in denial. “Okay! But they weren’t telling the whole truth back there. I was um… on drugs. I was really fucking high, okay?”

“Yet your high-self still managed to yell at me! Clearly you weren’t high out of your mind,” you snap menacingly. He flinches at your sudden shut-down; he’s never heard you yell at him before, nor has he ever been the victim of your anger. It makes his heart drop.

“That was like, three hours after I got high! I was practically sober, plus, you weren’t talking to me that day!”

“I had lost my voice! I didn’t want you to get sick—"

“I DIDN’T FUCKING KNOW THAT!”

He gulps at your silence and inhales a deep breath to calm down. He hears you sniffle on the other side. “I-I didn’t know that. You wouldn’t kiss me, wouldn’t talk to me, and I didn’t know why. I thought you stopped loving me and… that really upset me.” He sighs to himself because he’s never opened up so honestly and it’s difficult, but he doesn’t exactly have a choice. It just feels so embarrassing.

Taehyung opens the window of your dorm and climbs out. You don’t see or hear it happen, too invested in your argument to even remember his existence. “Do you remember what I told you the night we did it for the first time?”

His face scrunches as he tries to replay the events beside the sex. The corner of his lip tugs upwards when he recalls you calling him a slut, but he’s still clueless as to why you’re bringing it up. You don’t leave him in the dark for long. “I told you I wouldn’t forgive you a second time.” He gnaws on his lip as his palms feel clammy with nervous sweat.

“W-We weren’t dating then,” he tries to justify. “I didn’t need forgiveness then. You’re so unfair!” He stands up and knocks with his fist again. “Let’s talk it out face to face, I’ll explain everything. You’re putting me at a disadvantage! Don’t you want clarity? Don’t you want this to work out?!” He starts chanting your name when you don’t answer. “I will break down this fucking door if you don’t open it,” he doesn’t sound nearly as intimidating as he usually does when threatening; he sounds more like he’s a second away from breaking down himself. “No, no… please. I-I’ll kiss another girl if you break up with me! You don’t want that, right? So just open the door.”

His tough façade crumbles the longer you ignore him, and he can’t believe the heavy weight he feels all over his body wants to leave in the form of tears. It stings in his eyes but he doesn’t dare let them fall. “You’re so fucking cruel!” He twists the door handle violently; desperately. A dry sob escapes him as he kicks the door one last time. “Oh God, oh God…” he tries to breathe but it doesn’t enter his lungs. It’s like being choked with a noose as he gasps and a tear runs down his cheek. His wheezes become so loud that you start hearing them and grow concerned.

You consider the possibility that it’s one of his tactics, trying to manipulate you, but you open the door anyway. It’s a slight crack and you barely get a look at him before he pushes it open completely and forces his way in. He sits on your bed and his shoulders hunch, breaths still shallow. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t like her, never did, I only— I was mad, and I couldn’t go through with it, and I’ve never shown you affection b-because I’ve only ever received it from you—” you hush his rambling with a hug, but he continues with his head against your stomach anyway, “I’ve never been in a relationship and I’m a fucking mess and I understand why you wouldn’t want to be with me, but please don’t leave me. I’ll do my homework, I’ll stop being mean, I won’t even talk if you don’t want me to, but please don’t stop talking to me.”

“Jungkook…” you trail in shock. “I’m here. Take a deep breath.” When he tries, it’s so shaky that it makes you tear up for the umpteenth time. You’re a mess with him. “In and out, love, in and out.” You would do it with him like an instructor, but it’s not possible when he’s squeezing your waist so tightly. It takes a few minutes for him to relax his grip and he looks up at you pitifully. “It’s okay,” you assure and pet his hair, “you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most,” he exhales. “I mean… I realized that night, that I only want to be with…”

“I get it,” you whisper to comfort him, knowing he has struggles with expressing himself, but he doesn’t stop. He wants to get it off his chest, and he quietly tells you, “I kissed another girl when I wanted to make you jealous, and then another to forget. I don’t want to do that, I mean I only want to kiss… you.”

You initiate it first by leaning down to peck his lips, and you don’t pull away too far. You peck him again, and then start kissing him. He’s never been this slow with you before, but the panic attack must have drained him. It’s the way that he doesn’t immediately turn it heated with the intent of taking it to the third base that warms your heart. He’s hesitant and taking his time, mindful of your reactions because you’re in control for once. You’re aware of how vulnerable he is being with you, and he conveys that with the gentle press of his lips.

He whimpers into the kiss, and it’s so quiet and mournful that you lean back but he chases after you. He doesn’t want to stop like you’d assumed, so you place your knees on either side of him and hover over his thighs. Even his hands are hesitant as he lightly sits you down on his lap by pulling your waist. You smile against him and with his submission, you swipe your tongue across his lip. He opens for you. You roll your tongue around his, and he eventually begins to suck on yours. There’s a pit in your stomach that confuses you; is it arousal? Flattery? You feel so special because you know he hasn’t been like this with anyone else; so powerless and passive.

It’s passionate. You inch your body a little closer to him and he grunts when you brush against his crotch before settling down. This isn’t about sexual needs, and you don’t treat it as such but your body has a mind of its own with its constant shuffling that turns him on. He doesn’t want to feel that way, but his hips have a subtle way of thrusting beneath you. His hums rumble and you kiss him harder, losing all your senses except for the warmth of his skin. You don’t notice him controlling the movement of your hips because he’s taking it slow, and you don’t need to know why he’s quietly moaning into you.

At least no one’s watching him now.

You pull back in surprise when he groans loudly, and you know he’s back to himself as his actions grow rough. You’re practically jumping when he grinds on you with his spit all over your mouth because of his explorative tongue. From past experience, you’ve figured out that Jungkook is more honest when he’s in the heat of the moment, so you inquire against his lips, “Why did you lie to me about Jimin?”

“That fucking freak,” he growls, “I needed a reason to get you to hate him. He didn’t stop you when it happened, did he?”

Still manipulative. “Will you do the same with Taehyung?”

“No, I,” his thrusts slow down, “I’m gonna, err…” He looks at you for help.

“You’re gonna be a good boy and talk things out with him, right?”

“Right,” he breathes, “talk.” He slams his lips against yours again, and it’s not long before he sighs at his climax with your cooperation. There’s a small patch growing on his pants through his underwear, and he cusses when he notices it. He pecks you one last time before hugging you and laying on the bed, cuddling you like a blanket. “Do you forgive me?”

You rest your head on his chest and feel his pulse to contemplate. He brings a hand up to your hair and starts running his fingers through it, unbothered by your lack of answer. “I’ll make it up to you,” he says. “Do you…” he clears his throat, “do you maybe want to have dinner with me?”

“Like a date?” you tease with a grin.

“Yes.”

“There’s my answer,” you lift your head to wink up at him. “But if you test me again, I’ll break your heart just as you did mine. Don’t worry though,” you whisper, “I’ll never leave you.”

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fic #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook imagines #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts #networkbangtan

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fandomlovingfreak · 3 years ago

Text

Glacial Passion (9/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: E for Everyone

Trigger Warning: Arranged Marriage, angst, swearing occasionally

Word Count: 2059

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: Okay so I feel rushed 24/7 with this fanfic because of my schedule. I hope you all like it! I rewrote this like 5 times ugh! aha

Enjoy

Visitors at nine o'clock at night was far from uncommon for Sirius Black. But, he usually expected said visitors to arrive with him, hopefully after a wonderful night out drinking and dancing. Visitors that arrived at nine o'clock at night and by themselves were quite an uncommon occurrence at Number Five Godric Lane.

Sirius opens the door at the second knock. The figures of his younger brother and a young woman standing on his front porch both looking gloomy.

"Regulus?" The girl looks younger than his brother, very attractive-- well, she would be, he assumes, if she weren't wearing a scowl that rivaled Regulus's cloudy expression. Sirius leans against his door frame, crossing his arms against his chest nonchalantly, "And you must be (y/n)."

(y/n) opens her mouth to respond, but Regulus cuts her off before she can confirm or deny his statement, "Can we stay here?" The interruption seems to piss her off further, her anger coming off her in waves as she stares daggers at Regulus.

Sirius looks between the young couple for a beat, "I-- sure? But why are you here? What happened?"

"Walburga." Regulus steps forwards to enter, prompting Sirius to move out of the way of his brother and sister-in-law. (y/n) gives him an apologetic look but doesn't say anything as she follows her husband into the small space of Sirius's living room.

He wonders what Regulus has done to piss his wife off so thoroughly as he watches them take a seat on his couch, Regulus somewhere near the middle cushion and (y/n) as far to the right as she possibly can be without sitting on the armrest.

Sirius sits adjacent to them in the comfy reclining chair. After a moment of silence, he sighs, "So, are you going to tell me what's happened?"

"We'll only be here for a couple of days at the least. There was no way we could spend another night-- there."

"I don't care how long you stay. Stay as long as you need to." Sirius looks at (y/n), who still has not said a word to him or Regulus. She's not even looking at either of them, her lips drawn tight and her fingers neatly folded together on her lap. "Were you disowned?"

Regulus's eyes meet his, "No. Can we talk in the kitchen? Just for a moment."

"Sure," Sirius stands up, "I've been rude, though. (y/n) would you like anything to drink?"

The girl's eyes meet his, "Water would be fine, thank you."

"I'll be right back with your water." He leads Regulus into the small kitchen.

"Why are you speaking to me with your wife not present? And what happened anyway?" Sirius opens the cabinet, reaching for a glass as he speaks.

"I wasn't disowned specifically because of (y/n). I know it's the truth. Walburga thinks she's possibly pregnant, and besides, I am sure my father-in-law would be furious to find out our parents ruined his daughter's future over me."

"Is she?" Sirius asks as the glass overflows as he fills it.

"Is she what?"

Sirius rolls his eyes, "Is your wife pregnant?" Honestly, he can understand why (y/n) may be annoyed with Regulus. His little brother was always so distracted by his own thoughts he could hardly converse at a normal rate. Skipping over questions and statements, eager to give his take or changing the subject. He could sometimes be exhausting to talk to, especially if you weren't used to Regulus and his ways.

Regulus scoffs as if Sirius was an idiot to suggest such a thing, "I've never failed to cast a contraceptive charm before. It's just an inkling the woman has, hoping that even as I continue to put up a fight against her ridiculous opinions on how my-- my relationship should look, or how it should operate. Of course, when she suggested that... conceiving an heir was a family matter, I told her it wasn't any of her business. Which she didn't like, at all."

"So you're hanging on as the heir because she's convinced (y/n) is carrying your heir?" Regulus makes a face, the only convincing Sirius needed that he wasn't telling him the complete truth.

"I assume that's what she thinks. You know Walburga. She's convinced sex is strictly reproductive."

Sirius chuckles, "talk about your sex life much with dear old mum, eh Reggie?"

Regulus's frown deepens. Oh, how his younger sibling hated teasing, "of course not. She's become a complete nutter about my private matters. I don't even know how she figured out I was using the charm."

"Well, she is a nutter. Maybe she has Kreacher following you around." It's meant as a joke, but Regulus seems to question if there's some truth in the words. "Oh, c'mon Regulus. Wouldn't you notice the little creep if he had been what-- hiding underneath the bed?" Sirius stifles a laugh. Imagining the little gremlin sneaking into Regulus's bedroom to spy on him from under the bed. The image of Kreacher under the bed, the springs of the bed, knocking against his lumpy head.

"It's not funny. That's entirely possible--" Regulus takes the glass from Sirius's hand, downing it in one go.

"Hey! That was for (y/n)!"

In a very not-raised-by-Walburga-Black manner, Regulus wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve, nearly slamming the glass on the countertop, "You can refill it."

Sirius mutters something about Regulus being a 'little git' as he refills the glass and pushing past Regulus to bring the glass to (y/n).

"Here you go." The younger woman takes the glass from him, smiling. The smile seems false in his opinion, her eyes immensely sad.

Sirius practically scurries back to his chair, "right-- so all I have to offer is a couch, which I suppose we can transfigure into a bed? Hopefully, that's okay?" His eyes meet (y/n)'s ignoring a sulking Regulus who sits down next to his wife.

"Of course. Thank you." (y/n) stands, looking at Regulus, "Do you mind?" He scowls but gets up off the couch, shuffling towards Sirius. Both brothers watch as (y/n) pulls her wand from her sleeve.

With an elegant flick of her wand, the couch transforms into a comfortable-looking bed large enough to fit two adults.

Looking pleased with her work, (y/n) sits back on the edge of the bed. Almost reluctantly, Regulus sits on the side of the bed (y/n) isn't occupying.

Again, Sirius has the desire to laugh. Clearly, there has been some sort of spat between the couple. Their mother's rudeness can't be the only thing that's got the couple this worked up.

The uncomfortable silence that overcomes the three of them is unbearable. In an attempt to put an end to the awkwardness, Sirius, with a grin, speaks, "I'm still baffled that I didn't get a wedding invitation."

Neither (y/n) nor Regulus look amused by his words.

"This is not the time, Sirius." If looks could kill, Regulus would have surely ended his life.

***

Undoubtedly, Regulus and Sirius shared DNA. I ponder the similarities between my husband and his older brother as I get ready for bed. They both have the same piercing grey eyes and deep brown hair. But their differences could be plainly seen as well. Regulus is a tad bit taller and far skinnier than Sirius. And Sirius's hair is much longer.

Even as their faces share similarities, Regulus always seems to wear a frown while Sirius clearly had an air of ease. Funnily enough, the frown that Regulus wears doesn't match the woman you'd think he would resemble, as Sirius was the one who favored his mother's sharp features. Regulus had clearly inherited Orion's bone structure.

Undoubtedly though, both men were attractive in their own way.

Spitting toothpaste into the basin, I make a face when the thought pops in my head that I find Regulus more handsome than his brother.

I suppose I am allowed to be biased, or at least should be biased, as I'm married to Regulus, but-- I feel silly thinking about this.

Walking back into the makeshift bedroom, I pass Regulus, who doesn't even meet my eye. We've barely spoken since we arrived in Godric's Hollow, only passing looks of anger between us. Part of me longs to reach out and grab his arm, tell him I overreacted, that I'm sorry... but am I really sorry? Or was I just longing for him to whisper sweet things as he held me in bed how he has for the past weeks? I certainly could go one night, or maybe even a few, without his touch.

Unfortunately, I very much wanted him to play the loving husband again. I wanted to listen to his stories and comfort him when painful memories were brought up. I wanted to kiss him in all the ways we could think. Soft and sensual, deep and unforgiving... I wanted the goodnight kisses and the sleepy morning ones.

I obviously-- I don't love him, not yet. Maybe never if this rollercoaster of hot and cold continues on with us. But I did find myself craving affection and attention from Regulus in a way that would suggest feelings had been developing.

And Gods, did I hope that he felt at least an inkling of these developing feelings of mine. Regulus could be soft and sweet in moments, but part of me wondered if he only felt something for me when I was beneath him. It-- was a thought that had begun to plague my mind as our honeymoon had taken a turn for the better.

I had no proof that he didn't have budding feelings for me; I ultimately felt insecure because of that fight.

The way he spoke to me reminded me of every time I was scolded by my parents or grandmother. Like I was a dumb child who didn't have a say in a decision like practically running away from home-- his home.

Climbing into bed, I pull the blanket up towards my chin. The curtains aren't completely drawn, leaving an opening for a sliver of moon to be seen.

I feel my eyes grow tired as I focus on the moon's illumination.

***

Regulus makes his way back into the living room, meaning to discuss their spat. Guilt had sat in the back of his mind since their argument, but he needed her to realize that the anger he showed hadn't been aimed at her. It was stupid to assume that she would just know and understand the history between himself and his parents, and why wouldn't she assume he was attacking her when he raised his voice?

Part of Regulus had hoped she would just understand, and he wouldn't have to explain the rocky relationship between his family to her. (y/n) could be incredibly understanding, but she wasn't a mind reader. He had been unfair.

The carefully crafted apology he had rehearsed in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth sat at the tip of his tongue, dying instantly when he noticed her already under the covers of their makeshift bed.

The moon shines through Sirius's shitty, cheap curtains, casting a beautiful glow on her.

His voice comes out quiet as he calls her name into the dark. Her body doesn't stir, and he walks closer to the bed. The gentle rise and fall of her sleeping form has him convinced she really has fallen asleep without him.

Almost by instinct, he gets into bed, moving closer to wrap her up in his arms, but he hesitates, wondering if she'd even want to be held by him after their fight.

He feels the pang of sadness at the thought that she may not want his touch any longer.

Regulus reasons with himself that if she really didn't want him near her, she would push him away during the night. Maybe-- maybe she would wake up with his body pressed up close against hers, and it could fix something, or at least maybe she'd wake up less angry at him.

Carefully he moves so she's tucked against his body, his arm wrapping around her waist the way he knows she likes best. With a content sigh, she settles back against his body.

Regulus holds still, making sure she hasn't woken up, eventually relaxing and burying his face in her hair.

At least as she sleeps, she still desires him.

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alygatorwrites · 4 years ago

Note

can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough.

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms.

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man.

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden.

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him.

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him.

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece.

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has.

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone.

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

#timeskip reiner still sexy asf #I just wanna hug and kiss him ugh #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk x reader #reiner braun #reiner x you #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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rcksmith · 4 years ago

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Geniuses — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Hi! I am just the annon that recently sent the request 3,11,16 and 22. You asked what I wanted, I forgot to put that I got them from the “fluff” prompt list. I am so sorry!! And don’t worry! It’s not your fault I didn’t see the list 😂😂 but thank you so much! I really like your fics and your writing style so much! 🥺🥺💖💖”

Fluff prompts:

3“You’re staring again.”

11. “Wow- you look…amazing.”

16. “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.” 16. “I heard that!” 1 .“You were supposed to!”

22. “well the probability of that is 0, but you go ahead”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Haha love, it’s okay💖💖 i hope you like, because I really like to writing tis. Thank you for resquest. Love u❤️

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem! Reader.

Warnings: nothing, just bad words and fluff.

(gif not mine)

— — — — —

It was fun to think that Five never had an equal opponent, someone as smart, canny, sarcastic and ironic as he. Five Hargreeves was always used to being the smartest person in the room, always being the one with the quickest response on the tip of his tongue.

And, well, it was fun to think that it all went up in the air when you showed up.

You were cruelly intelligent, able to correct errors in Five's math equations, sarcastic and always had a cheeky smile on your face. You weren't used to being underneath, which is why when Five wanted to show that he was better than you, well, you wouldn't give up.

But unlike the time traveler, you didn't have super powers, you weren't extraordinary, you didn't have any skills, but that didn't stop you from being equal to him in every other way.

Whenever Five wanted to come out on top with the argument that he had powers and you didn’t, you raised an eyebrow, looked at him as if he had made a basic math mistake, and said: “I don’t need powers, I’m a genius, you should try to be one too.” And it made him furious, and, truth be told, you just liked to tease him too.

But just as the two of you had personality differences, the ability to handle emotions and people well was different from Five. You were kind, funny and wanted to make people comfortable around you. Being a genius didn't mean you shouldn't be a nice person, and Five usually forgot about it.

As you and Five spent more time together, it became clear that you two were no longer able to stay away from each other. Five liked (secretly) to have someone to really talk to. Someone that understood and followed his line of reasoning, that understood the equations he did, and that considered him a genius instead of crazy with some reasoning.

Being with you was like, for Five, meeting another human being in a dog-only world, and when he kind of told you that in other words, you laughed out loud and said: “Or how to find an equal sign in an equation.” And that's when he felt his heart pounding for you.

Five remembered when you beat him in chess for the first time, no one had ever done it before, and he agreed to play with the full awareness that he was going to win again. Well, that is not what happened.

When you checkmate his king, Five was stunned. He leaned over the board, looking at the pieces as if they had created a head. And you laughed, leaned back in your chair in a victorious smile.

“This is impossible.”

“it's actually just intelligence, why don't you use it now and then?” You were kidding, it was obvious, you couldn't stand hurting people and Five knew it. The dynamics of the two of you who were exchanging barbs.

“You must have stolen or something, this is very much your style” He returned, eyes on you as you laughed “Let's play again and I will give you a the most brutal defeat.”

“Well the probability of that is 0, but you go ahead” You accepted, first because you wanted to show that you would beat him as many times as possible, and second because there was nothing you liked more than spending time with Five.

The matches started, and you won every time. And when the sunset and the breeze was cold, you and Five looked at each other, with the peach rays of the sun illuminating their faces, and the mutual smile they gave out sweetly.

He were really enjoy the game and you knew that, and he knew you not just want the victory. You two know Just more matches would make you spend more time together. And... Five didn't remember if anyone ever really engaged in a game just to want to be around him.

But things really got more real and serious when Vayna asked you to go to one of her violin performances too. And, well, you wore a long, red dress, firm in all the right places, and Five couldn't get his eyes off you just one second.

It was as if, when he saw you, all the equations in his life had been solved. And a single thought rang in his mind: “I want her”

And the certainty of that was absolute. He wanted you as an overwhelming force, which shook his whole body. He needed you like needed oxygen. And there was no way to deny that anymore.

But it all happened in a fraction of a second, and you had just chosen that moment to approach him and ask:

“So, how am I look? Are you going to make a little joke about berries or something?” You laughed.

But Five could think of nothing but that if there were the personification of sin and perfection, it would be you. He looked at you as a whole, a fucking beautiful woman with a fucking brilliant mind. You are incredible and he had no other adjectives for you.

“Wow- you look… amazing.” You felt all the intensity and truth in that sentence, and your heart pounded in your chest.

For, truth be revealed, you had dressed up for him. Because wanted him to think you were beautiful. Because you thinking him were a young God with all the vigor and beauty.

Five really wanted to focus on anything but you. Not In the swing of your body, in the outline of your lips, in how he wanted to put you out of that dress. He really tried. But his eyes were always drawn to you at the end of the effort, as if you were the only thing worth seeing.

“You’re staring again.” Luther whispered in his right ear, while Five kept his eyes on you for a moment that seemed to him seconds, but to Luther it was hours.

But who could blame him? You looked like a mirage, too beautiful to be true. And Five wanted to record every detail of it in memory.

“Take care of your life!” He replied, taking his eyes off you.

After that night, Five already knew that he could no longer keep his hands off you. He couldn't just look at you anymore when the hunger to touch you started to hurt physically. As soon as you got back to the mansion, he grabbed you by the wrist, in a strong, firm grip, and pulled you with him as he climbed the stairs towards his own room.

Five needed you. A kiss, a caress, a body-to-body contact, anything, he just needed it. And it had to be now, he not wait for you to go home and come back later, he couldn't wait days...damn it! He couldn't wait seconds!

Then he knocked and locked the door behind you when you entered the his room.

“What the hell?” You rubbed your wrist that he must not have measured how much firmly him hold you “You're acting like a nut and I thin ...”

But Five didn't give you time to continue. He couldn't give you time. He could not explain something that for him was still a mess. So he showed you.

Five came to you in big, determined steps, and he fit your face in his hands before tilting and sticking his lips to yours. And then the world seemed to make sense for the first time.

Everything was suspended. The people, the rotation of the earth, the wind, the noise of the streets. Everything went into a black hole and was no longer important. The only thing that really mattered was you. And Five kissed you until the oxygen was strictly necessary.

“I have been waiting for this for some time.” You confessed, and Five blew out a low laugh, answering you with another kiss that ended up taking you to a bed and messy sheets.

After that night, Five became more attached to you, and the relationship grew stronger over the weeks.

“You know this is wrong, right?” You said as you took a look at the equations he had made that afternoon.

Five looked at you with a frown, irritation in his eyes, but you were trying to contain your laughter.

“You have nothing else to do no?”

“Besides seeing your accounts wrong? No.” You had fun, taking one of the white chalk Five was using and erasing an equation from it, redoing it in the right way.

You could feel his gaze on your back, but you did your best not to laugh and return the chalk complacently.

“Now it's right.”

Five looked at the account you redid, and gave you an expression of so few friends that you couldn't control your laughter anymore.

And his expression closed even more. You shook your head and were already on your way to the door when when you heard him mumbling:

“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

Then you laughed even harder and turned to Five, who had been doing his math again on the walls of his room.

“I heard that!”

“You were supposed to!” He countered without even waiting a second, and then you came back towards him, the laughter still present in your voice, your eyes full of play and love.

You put your arms behind his waist, still with the remnants of laughter coming from yours lips, and leaned your head against his broad back.

Five felt and heard your laughter, and then controlled himself not to laugh too, before giving yours hands that were hugging his waist a few gentle pats.

“You are unbearable.” You mumbled, but full of love overflowing with the words “But I love you.”

Then Five laugh came and he exchanged pats for an affectionate affection on yours hand, signaling that he also found you unbearable, but that he loves you.

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monster-fricker · 3 years ago

Text

Part 4: Like Honey, Until You Depart

Male Orc (He/Him pronouns) x Female Human Reader (She/Her pronouns) - SFW Chapter, but will eventually be NSFW

- TW blood mention, violence insinuation (as always, never anything explicit). This story was meant to be short (admittedly, I intended it to be a NSFW one-shot), but the more I write Galaak, the more I fall in love with him. Those flirtatious tensions are clearly building and the fluff is beyond the point of return. Backstory time and plenty of dialogue. I swear, this will get NSFW soon. You'll have to bare with me in the meantime. -

Galaak seemed restless while you made breakfast. A less observant eye may have suspected his constant intrusions and inquiries as to whether or not you needed help to be a lack of faith in your abilities. But with each interruption, you could tell he was simply not used to being cared for, even if it was just one meal. You pondered how lonely it must be living in this forest, with only stray criminals and wandering animals to keep you company. The thought made you terribly sad.

He pouted like a child when you essentially told him to get lost. He needed rest, you told him, but he outright refused the suggestion and huffed around the house trying to keep himself busy instead. You giggled at the way his brows furrowed, dipping beneath his eyepatch, and scrunched up his nose as he made his way outside, mumbling, "I'm going to wash my hair." Such a monstrous thing taking a quiet tantrum was undeniably cute. He was softer then you would have ever assumed.

You rummaged through the cabinets searching for ingredients, praying you'd be able to whip up something edible. Truth be told, you were never much of a "little chef" and less so now that you had been living off of hastily baked meat. But you were determined to offer Galaak something, especially after what he had done to rescue you and your dagger. The dagger was resting on the kitchen table still, where you had left it in your haste at seeing Galaak's wounded frame earlier. You decided to take it to your room and tuck it neatly back into your bag. While inside, you couldn't help but pull up your shirt and breathe the scent in, still very much Galaak. It was a little embarrassing, you realized, and you blushed. You looked down at the pants you wore and grimaced. Despite how you tried to make them look presentable, they remained dirty, now damp with the water you had used to clean Galaak with not an hour earlier.

You thought of that scene. How terrified you were, emotional, but also how gorgeous he was, how good his skin felt beneath your touch. Without much deliberation, you decided to take them off entirely. Galaak's shirt fit you like a dress anyway and perhaps, if you were honest, you wanted to know what his reaction would be to seeing your bare flesh too. You heard his footsteps enter the house and scampered back to your position at the kitchen counter, not allowing yourself to dwell on that long enough to change your mind.

He had a lot of spices, but in the way of food, it consisted of meat, some vegetables, and more meat. You figured the morning was as good a time as any for deer steaks and a heaping portion of potatoes. It would be fairly quick and it was doubtful that an orc of his size would turn his nose up at such a hearty meal. As you neared finishing up, Galaak crept back into the kitchen, sitting at the table. He was silent, probably afraid you would yell at him again- which was terribly funny to you, but you could hear his breath catch in his throat, just for a moment. You hoped it was your outfit, as unflattering as it may be. You doubted that though.

He watched you for awhile. His gaze burned holes in your back and suddenly he was looming right behind you, body mere inches from yours, peering over your shoulder. "That smells delicious." His voice was more gravelly than usual, heaving as if he was out of air.

"Well, let us hope that it tastes just as good. I would prefer not to poison us both." You turned your head slightly and winked. "At least not today."

He snickered. "What confidence. You sure know how to work up a man's appetite." A joke. And yet warmth trickled down your spine like honey. Galaak paused. "I see you have taken a liking to my shirt."

It was your turn to lose air. "It is comfortable," you murmured, a little more shaky than you intended, "but it is nice wearing a dress again."

He roared at this. "I suppose it doesn't fit you the same way it does me." He paused again, adding shyly, "It suits you though. You look good in it, little one."

Not a joke. The warmth spread from your spine through your whole body. You tried not to shiver. He was close enough to see it, close enough to feel it. "Sit down. It's time to eat." Unlike you, he did shiver, then did as he was told.

You served him, nervous if the meal would would please him. There was one steak for you, three for him. Galaak beamed. "You sure you don't have orc blood in you?" He stabbed a knife into the steak and brought it to his lips, tearing through the flesh without cutting it. Juices went everywhere. "You are a mess," you chuckled. You picked up a cloth, wiping him clean. His entire body stiffened.

Why did you do that? Had you offended him? Overstepped a boundary? To your surprise, he smiled sweetly. "Do you mind me being a mess?"

You responded by stabbing the steak and biting into it the same way he had. "Maybe there is orc blood in me yet," you mumbled, food still in your mouth. Galaak's eye widened and there was that lopsided smile again. Oh, how you loved that smile.

"It is nice to share a meal with someone who is as messy as I am," he said, more of a revelation than matter-of-fact statement. "It's nice to share a meal with someone at all."

You frowned. "It must be lonely here. This place isn't exactly teeming with people to talk to." You scanned his face for indications to change the subject, but he just took another huge bite from the steak. "Why are you here, Galaak? In the forest, I mean."

He shrugged. Not averting his eyes looked like a difficult task for him. "Same reason as anyone who takes up home here, I guess. Running toward something."

"That implies you had something to run away from."

His expression was indecipherable. "Are you asking for a tragic backstory?"

"I'm asking about you," you returned. The way you spoke was soft. Galaak's features were soft.

"Well, you know how orc culture goes. We raid, we battle. I was good at it too." He pointed toward the large hammer next to the door. It was still discolored from bandit blood. That should have scared you. It didn't. "But it gets tiring. It starts to wear on you, losing everyone you care about, you know?" He forced a hollow laugh. "Or an eye."

You nodded, urging him to continue.

"So one day I just... well, I just took off. You can't tell your clan you don't want to fight anymore. There is no honor in that. I mean, there is no honor in running either. Once I had gone, I knew I could never go back. I was a coward, I guess."

You grabbed his hand, making him put down his fork. He looked unsure, staggered. You squeezed his hand, then rubbed gentle circles into his palm. "You're not a coward. It takes a lot of bravery knowing when to leave."

Galaak studied your grip on him and remained fixated on it for awhile. Not moving, not pulling back. Just watching.

"My clan would never see it that way." He trailed off, then continued. "Anyway, I came across a village not far from here. They were welcoming enough, let me trade goods and sleep a few nights at the local inn. But it was clear my being an orc scared them. I felt guilty, you know? So... now I'm here. I built this house. Made a nice set up, I think." He grinned at that, but only for a moment. "But yes, it does get lonely."

You didn't release his hand. You couldn't. Some part of you worried that if you let him go, he would disappear forever.

"Are you lonely now, Galaak?"

His eye met yours and the sadness subsided slightly. "No. Not until you depart, that is."

"I don't have any plans of leaving." You cleared your throat.

"I'll keep that in mind." Galaak was radiant now, happy. You both observed one another. His hair was still wet from being washed, long damp strands falling down his back, no longer braided. The water left slowly evaporating marks on his shirt. He was prettier than anyone you had ever met. More handsome, more kind. You admired the way his shirt hugged every powerful muscle, every chiseled line, showed off his plump belly. You wanted to memorize every wrinkle on his face, every curve of his scar, the bright freckles in his eye. More than anything right now, you wished he would remove his eyepatch so that you could see the eye he was hiding. So you could really see all of him. You didn't dare ask.

"So," he started, "what are you running away from?"

You shrugged, unconsciously mimicking his mannerisms. "Grief, I guess. Or more accurately, the aftermath of it. Being an orphan, especially in such a small village, people begin to pity you. And people tend to hate feeling that way, so they avoided me. I avoided them. When your home no longer feels like home, it's lonely. So I ran." You started to fidget.

"And are you lonely now, little one?" There was hope in every word.

"No. Not until my cooking kills one of us, that is."

Galaak's howl echoed throughout the house. You began to laugh yourself, relieved that the tension was gone.

He took his hand from yours and bellowed, "It's time for some ale! Let us celebrate."

You raised an eyebrow. "Celebrate what?"

"No longer being lonely. And surviving your meal, obviously." He shot you a mischievous smirk.

You threw a piece of potato at him, but he only stuck out his tongue and stabbed his last steak, holding it in his teeth while he went to fetch this much-needed celebratory ale.

Previous Chapter

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#orc x human #orc boyfriend #orc #orcs #orc love #orc bf #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster bf #terato #monster x human #orc x reader #monster x reader #long post

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the-cult-of-russo · 4 years ago

Note

headcanon for when billy realizes he’s in love with reader? i’m such a sucker for romantic and soft billy😫

I love this. I'm going to go a little beyond just when he first realises too. You'll see. It's turned into more of a 'when Billy's in love with you' headcanon.

I'll break it down into sections once again. It's just easier that way 😌

When he first realises he loves you:

Oh man. Billy doesn't realise he's in love until he's so far gone he's drowning in it lmao

He has no idea why he gets crazy ass butterflies in his stomach every time he just thinks about you. No idea why his heart beats all funny when he looks at you or why his chest feels all warm. He doesn't know why everytime he's away from you his chest hurts and it feels like someone's punched a gaping hole right through it. The boy has no clue.

But then one day, he's out drinking with Frank, having a good time. And Frank's been going on and on about Maria, absolutely gushing about her. Billy being the good best friend he is, teases him of course. Sends him an offhand remark with a smirk. And Frank replies with...

"Yeah well. That's what happens when you're in love."

The words feel like a smack to the face. Suddenly, Billy feels like he's free falling, plummeting at record speed towards the concrete from a 50 story building. Because he relates. All the sickening gushing Frank had been doing, Billy got it. He does it himself about you. And Frank's words make everything click into place, Billy's world is suddenly tilting on its axis. Because what if you don't feel the same? Why would you when own his mother couldn't muster up any love for him?

He freaks out. His mind is going to dark places as his heart feels ready to give out. Frank sees him looking a second away from collapsing in a heap on the floor and takes him outside. After some brotherly advice and tough love, he feels a little better.

He still won't tell you though. Of course not, that's just fucking stupid. The fear of rejection runs far too deep in Billy to admit such a thing and he doesn't know how he'd cope if you broke his heart. If he lost the only person he's ever been in love with. So he resolves to keep it to himself. Its kind of nice though, to finally know just what it is that he's been feeling. It was obvious really. People write love songs about this bullshit. The same songs Billy's been listening to like a love sick fool because he gets it. He relates to the words.

How he tells you:

Billy won't outright tell you he loves you first. At least not on purpose. There are three likely scenarios that happen.

The first is you telling him you love him first. This is his best case scenario. He blinks warily at you for a moment, dark eyes rapidly scanning your face as he tries to find even the slightest hint of deception. It's not that he doesn't trust you, but he finds it almost impossible to believe anyone would ever be in love with him.

But when he realises you're telling the truth, he's dumbstruck. He's stunned but overwhelmingly happy and he tells you he loves you too. It feels like a weights been lifted, to finally tell you, to know you haven't turned him away. That you actually love him too.

The second way it might happen is him blurting it out randomly. This might happen during or after some amazing sex. Maybe you're both snuggled on the sofa and laughing about something stupid. He just looks at your wide and radiant smile and it strikes him how absolutely hopelessly in love with you he is. How lucky he is to be with you. And his mouth takes on a life of its own. The words tumble from his lips without his consent and he panics.

Total blind fear claws at his chest when he realises what he's said. He fears the worst. That you'll say you don't feel the same, maybe even laugh at him. Yet you don't do those things. You tell him you love him too. He reacts the same as the other scenario. Wary at first until he sees you mean it. And then he's overjoyed and shocked and confused but ridiculously happy.

The last scenario is similar to the other one in that it gets blurted out. Only this time it's during a heated discussion or argument. I made a whole headcanon post about arguing with Billy and another on the kind of things you might argue about.

This isn't a huge fight but most likely caused by something you did that he saw as reckless. Something like you walking home from work in the dark instead of getting a cab or calling him. Is he being overdramatic? Definitely. He knows this. But he's so terrified something might happen to you and it frustrates him that you don't see that. That you have no idea how much it would kill him if you got hurt. And in the middle of all the anger and the blind fear and intensity in the moment, after a biting remark from you, the words get ripped from his chest.

"Because I fuckin' love you, alright?! I'd die if somethin' happened to you! So you don't get to stand there and tell me it's no big deal!"

He's full of barely restrained rage at the mere thought of someone hurting you and he's sad and upset that you don't seem to care much about your own wellbeing.

But now it's a tense silence because he just blurted those words and worst of all, he yelled them at you. It was all going wrong and he hates it. But his panic was kept at bay by his anger, his only outwards reactions being the clenched jaw, the narrowed eyes and the roll of his shoulder. He's steeling himself for the inevitable. The searing pain of rejection.

But then you're yelling right back that you love him too and calling him an asshole and he's never been happier in his damn life. And with emotions still running high from the fight, he tosses you over his shoulder and takes you to the bedroom so he can show you just how much he loves you.

Ways he shows you he loves you:

Any of these that don't involve the words 'I love you' he's already been doing a while. But he continues to do so after that hurdle of first telling you passes and he gets comfortable with telling you verbally at every chance he gets.

He loves taking care of you. If he's off work he loves making you breakfast in bed. He loves cooking for you, he's actually quite good at it. He draws you relaxing baths, sometimes joining you and not even for sex. If you've had a hard day at work, he'll put your feet in his lap as you sit on the sofa with him and rub your sore feet.

He often buys you your favorite flowers, always accompanied by a sweet note. When you're both at work, he stops by your work for lunch because he can't stand a whole day away from you.

Since he wakes before you, he often just lays there and watches you. With the sun rising and bathing you in its glow, he watches in awe of how he managed to get someone as amazing as you. He doesn't dwell on these moments for too long though. His treacherous brain has a habit of poisoning anything good. If he lays there too long, his thoughts turn sour as the voice in the back of his head tells him he's not good enough for you. He doesn't deserve you, deserve your love. You'll leave him one day, realise you deserve way better than someone like him. He was an unloved and unwanted child, and that little boy is still there inside of him, hiding behind his bravado and his fancy ass suits. It's a downward spiral he finds it hard to come back from and he learned his lesson long ago. So instead, he allows himself a moment to admire you, appreciate you, and then he gets up for the day.

He doesn't wake you, you look so sweet and peaceful and he doesn't have the heart to. You don't need to get up as early as he does. Sometimes, if he's feeling particularly sappy, he leaves a note for you on his pillow. Letting you know how much he loves you and that he'll miss you while at work.

Gifts are abundant with Billy. It doesn't matter what it is, if you want it then it's yours. If it's expensive, it's yours. Cheap, it's yours. Weird and rare and very hard to get, he finds a way and it's yours. He's also a sucker for sentimental gifts. Jewellery that means something, maybe the date you met engraved on it. Some kind of photo gift with a picture of the two of you.

Billy has a lot of affection to give you. I've talked about this in other posts but he's a tactile person. He always needs to be touching you, reassuring himself you're real, you're safe and you're there with him. He often puts his hand on your neck, slender fingers feeling your pulse under them. It soothes him to do so. There's plenty of kisses on your head, temples, shoulders, neck, cheeks. He can't help it. He also loves stroking your hair. His hand are always attached to you like there's a gravitational pull towards you he can't resist. There's at least one hand on you at all times if you're near.

Billy doesn't fall for people easily. It's never happened before you. But when he falls, he falls hard. It's an all consuming kind of love that takes over his whole being.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine #billy russo headcanons

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issaxcharlie · 4 years ago

Text

Owen hosts Couple tag

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Artist Fem Reader

Summary: We play pretend world guys✨ (I missed them, I’m SoRryyyy.) So, Charlie wants some reassurance after starting to prepare his proposal to Y/N and makes this “genius” plan with Owen to find her answers without being suspicious. (She totally knows tho) also a lot of friendship fighting between Owen and Y/N because I had to, I made myself laugh a lot so I’ll hope at least makes you smile🤧🤣Anyways, have fun!

This is also my weird and nonsense way of doing sweet @marvel-ousnesss request of the we play pretend couple to do a couple buzzfeed quiz 💖

The blonde takes a deep breath before picking up his phone and heading to the living room, where his couple of friends and roommates are on the couch. Charlie is lying down watching television and Y/N is lying on top of him with her face snuggled into his neck, he hugging her around the waist while gently running his fingers down her skin.

The plan was simple, to help Charlie plan the perfect proposal and give him an idea of what she expects from her wedding, they were doing a “Couple tag” video. That way the questions wouldn’t be as suspicious. Of course, there are easier ways but we are talking about Charlie. They convinced Kenny to call her and tell her that it was to promote the second season that is currently being filmed, and she agreed.

Charlie mentioned many times that someone else had to ask her the questions because she reads her boyfriend like an open book, so his improvisation had to be perfect to keep his best friend’s clever girlfriend out of the hook.

He decided to start the live from his room so as not to give the singer the opportunity to think much about it, so he sits in the living room and focuses the image on his friends who are not affected in the least by their positions. After all, everyone already knows that they are a couple and that they live together.

“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L! And yes, that sexy, beautiful, adorable and talented man is my boyfriend, Charlie Gillespie.” He blushes as the memory of their first night back as a couple invades the mind of the Canadian, who had his girlfriend in exactly this position when she was, as she said, 'practicing' her introduction. Sadly, this time it will not end like that night because his best friend and about 500,000 people are watching.

“Welcome to my first edition of the Couple tag everyone! Here's my first guest couple, I know it’s not much, but I promise to find someone worthwhile next time, this is just for practice." Charlie laughs but looks nervous. Instead, his girlfriend sits down and rolls her eyes.

"I can't believe you chose him over a puppy or a hamster." The girl says to her boyfriend while laughing at her friend's offended reaction.

“I'm going to write that down in my long enemies list, but for now I have a live to lead. Okay guys, so basically I will ask them questions and I will also choose who answers them because I’m the only one hot enough to call the shots here."

She laughs and sticks out her tongue. Charlie sits down too and she takes his hand to fiddle with it. She keeps arguing for a few minutes with Owen but shows no signs of not wanting to play the game so he starts before she regrets it.

“Okay, first one is for Charlie. How did you guys met? This is actually a good one because a lot of the fans think you met on set and are like this really intense couple who started to date the very first week without even knowing each other’s last names.”

They both start laughing at the comment. The truth is that they have seen multiple posts and comments online from people judging their relationship and how fast they were going, especially when they did that last interview together and Y/N said that Charlie was taking his sweet time to ask for marriage, since for the fans they only have one year and months of knowing each other.

“We have known each other since forever. Our moms were best friends and we were born only a few weeks apart so we've always been together. We grew up as best friends and were dating before Y/N moved to New York to play Daniela on Stardust." Charlie tries to shake off the memory of the last tearful kiss before Y/N got on the plane. Hopefully he’ll never have to part from her for so long again. Sometimes he can't even understand how he managed to get through those 5 years.

"So no, we don't know each other for just one year, but 22." She adds, kissing his nose.

"Y/N, honey. I didn't ask you, don't be rude and wait for your turn." Owen says teasingly, the girl laughs and throws a pillow at him.

“Okay, rude again. Y/N, What is the first thing that he ever gave you?”

“Oh my, this beautiful valentines card! We were like eight I think. The paper is red, and it is filled with gold and silver glitter stars. Inside is a big star that has written in the middle, “My bright star, happy valentine’s day. I love you. And a lot of doodles of my favorite things, like my guitar, a microphone, chocolate, and a little Charlie. Just adorable, I still have it and to date it is one of my favorite gifts.”

The emotion with which she responds makes Charlie's heart melt. That was the first time he called her bright star, and he kept saying it to her during every audition, every performance, every practice. The exact reason not even she knows, but maybe one of these days he'll tell her.

“Rude and a liar. The 22-year-old Charlie's handwriting is horrible, the 8-year-old Charlie handwriting could only be close to a squiggle, nothing more. Oh, and probably only you had the ability to read it. I very much doubt that was beautiful."

She opens her mouth in surprise and wrinkles her nose, feigning annoyance. “I liked you more when you had a crush on me. You were nicer.”

Owen's eyes widen and he turns to see Charlie looking for help but he just starts laughing. “Wh- What are you talking about, mean girl?”

“Oh c’mon, you totally did, Ohio.” She smiles at the camara while showing a superiority face.

“Really? I already told you a thousand times, I'm from Oklahoma. But hey, how funny, forget about Stardust and audition for Funny Girl!”

“Jokes on you, I would nail Fanny Brice.”

“Man, defend my honor!”

“Bro, I can’t. You totally did, I even got worried for a second there.” It is incredible to think about how their friendship has grown and matured over time. They went from Owen fangirling every time he saw her to being really good friends. All these fights are more of a show than anything else, the truth is that when nobody is recording they tend to be very cool around each other and the three of them have quite a pleasant dynamic now that they are living together for the show.

“I won, Idaho. Now, please continue.”

“Well, my friends embarrassed me on my own live. I can already imagine the headlines tomorrow. Anyways, Charlie, Would you let yourself in danger to save her?”

Charlie starts laughing as he drops his head on the girl's shoulder. "I think she's not going to let me lie, I always have and will continue to do so. For me it's always her safety first."

"Which has given me more than a scare but he's so freakin stubborn." She adds while looking stressed and Owen can't help but imagine all the situations Charlie must have put himself in before.

“I prefer you scared than in danger, beautiful.” He grins and kiss her lips, her facial expresions relaxing at his touch.

“Gross. Y/N, do you prefer a small wedding or a big wedding?” She can feel Charlie tense at the question, so she leans her body back to support it against him and give him a lowkey reassurance.

“I hadn't really thought about it, but I know that my almost mother-in-law has been planning it all her life so you should check with her.”

His mom. Y/N is right, as always. His mom is their biggest shipper and the wedding is probably something she’ll want to be an importart part of, maybe way more than with his brothers since she adores the girl as much as her own kids, and the fact that his girlfriend is even more aware of that fact than him makes him smile.

“Do you love it when someone refers you as ‘her boyfriend’?”

“Always. Especially if it's her. She has that little knack of saying it whenever she can and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.”

“Oh I thought she was just showing it off to me because she was intimidated by our chemistry. I don't feel so special anymore.” Charlie chuckles and sends a secret air kiss to his friend, who just smirks and fakes to blush.

“How would you handle it if you thought another man was hitting on her?” Owen asks the guitarist raising an eyebrow.

“She usually takes care of that situations, her method is to take me by the shirt and kiss me hard on the lips. I’m never going to complain about that.” Charlie says smirking and blushing.

“We are a celebrity couple, for better or for worse. I’m not having him in a fight when I can just kiss that beautiful lips and solve the problem.” Charlie smiles as he wraps his girlfriend in his arms, so she can't see his face with the next question.

“What do you dream of your marriage? Mmm, let’s go with Y/N.”

“Anything will be perfect if I spend it with the man of my life. My Char is my everything and my biggest dream is to live my whole life laughing by his side.” Owen pretends to vomit as Charlie fills her with kisses under the ear, clearly moved by her answer.

“Let’s get to someting less cheesy because I really can’t with you both anymore. Has anyone ever tried to break your relationship?”

Charlie rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment. “Yes. We were like seventeen, and this guy from hockey had this big crush on her, so he tried to flirt with her many times even though everyone knew she was my girlfriend, until one day that he made her too uncomfortable and things escalated between him and me. Luckily my brothers intervened before something else happened because he was much bigger than me. I would have totally lost.” He chuckles while his girlfriend turns to see his face and gives him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Yes guys, they are this annoying all the time. How do I survive? A lot of yoga. Next question, If three guys are standing, and you have been blindfolded, then how would you recognize him? Guys we actually did this like three days ago on set.”

“It was awesome! We put my bandana on her eyes and since it had my smell she couldn't be guided by that to choose.” Charlie explains excited.

“We got the three of us, first Jeremy then Charlie and then me in front of her, then she began to lightly touch Jer's hand. Then she went to Charlie's, it didn't take her a minute to recognize him and she took him from the hair and draw him to her lips, it was actually a pretty smooth and risky move, I’ll give you a point for that, prodigy brat.”

“Char's body inadvertently reacts to mine. It was pretty easy to tell the difference, especially after touching Jeremy's hand.” She turns her head to give Charlie a soft kiss on the lips and then Owen starts laughing like crazy and telling her to come see a specific comment.

She gets up and goes to sit next to him, Owen changes the camera so that now they are the ones in the image and she begins to read aloud. “Charlie I could give you my... Oh my god!” Owen continues laughing, resting his head on his friend who simply watches the screen in shock.

“Thank god Charlie doesn’t know how to read.” Owen, who was just recovering from his giggling fit, laughs again as Charlie giggles and sticks his tongue out at his girlfriend.

"Who needs to read when you look this hot with sleeveless shirts." He jokes while winking at his partner, which seems to melt in front of the camera that is still pointing directly at her.

“The man has a point. Okay, Y/N move your ass back there I’m still in charge of this show. Would you prefer a silver or gold ring?”

She makes sure to move off the screen and sticks her middlefinger at Owen before heading back to her place with her boyfriend. “Good and really random question.” She smirks, not making contact with her boyfriend. “I don't have a preference, but I would love Char to design it. Obviously with the correct guidance, but yeah he choosing every detail and then explaining to me why he choose it would be the dream.”

Charlie smiles. He was already imagining something like this after so many years of gifting and has already been visiting the jewelry store several times to make sure he designed the perfect ring for his girl, a slight feeling of pride filling him.

“Which series does she thinks resembles your relationship?”

“She loves Boy Meets World and see a lot of us in Cory and Topanga. I can totally see it too, after all they too have known each other their whole lives and have a bond as strong as ours.”

“Well that explains why she’s always telling me ‘Life is though, get a helmet’ instead of actually help me.” She grins at the memory of Charlie’s last prank on Owen a couple of days ago, it was really good since she secretly helped him plan it.

“Man, It wasn’t personal. I do the same with Char. I’m not going to be known for being the one ruining prank war. Take it to the end of the road, if you need me to take you idiots out of jail I totally will... eventually.”

“My girl, everyone. Isn’t she awesome?” He watches her adoringly and she blushes in response, buring her head on his neck.

“She always has this enormous energy and personality but all it takes is for you to see her for her to melt, that’s... kind of cute actually. Okay next question Stardust, What about If Charlie tells you to marry him tomorrow?”

For the thousandth time that night Y/N can feel Charlie stressing out. The fact that he planned together with Owen and Kenny all of this just to make sure he was on the same page with her is the most adorable thing in the world.

“I’m pretty sure he knows I would always say yes. He could have gotten on a plane when we were 18 and told me ‘I don't want to be without you, let's get married.’ And I would have said yes. He’s my person, I have nothing to think about, I have always known it’s him."

Now it's Charlie's turn to melt, and Owen himself can't help but smile.

Charlie's confidence in what he has planned is higher than ever, and the day when he can finally make it official is near. He has been dreaming of this day with his Y/N for years and he will finally get it.

“Well guys, that was it, give it up to my favorite couple of dumbasses and please stop asking obvious questions. Will I be Y/N’s maid of honor? Of course I will. Oh, and tune in next week to see me becoming Kenny’s new favorite after I challenge Y/N in a dance duel with I got the music. Golden star is GOING DOWN."

Thank you for reading✨

NEXT PART HERE

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13 , @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner

#charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie one shot #jatp one shot #jatp fanfic #jatp luke #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson fanfiction

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writings-of-a-british-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

A Lesson In Touch [Din Djarin x Reader]

Title: A Lesson In Touch Summary: You want nothing more to say your feelings for Din out loud, but words don't come to you or Din easy... Maybe you can express your love in another way. Warnings: A little bit of angst and description of injury, but that's about it Request: N/A

A/N: This is the third and final instalment of "a lesson in" series! ((unless i get inspired to write another part)) Let me know if you have any requests for Din in general!!

A/N 2: Here is a list of people that said they wanted to be tagged for this fic! Hope you like it

@elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @the-fae-child @zoleea-exultant @captainwanderlust78 @ihavemyownissuess

PART 1: A Lesson In Mando’a PART 2: A Lesson In Tradition PART 3: A Lesson In Touch

Din Djarin~A Lesson In Touch

Din hadn't quite mastered the art of subtlety when it came to you. He was very thankful for his beskar, specifically his helmet, otherwise he was sure you would've noticed his outright staring. In no way was he trying to make you feel uncomfortable or offend you, but he just felt mesmerised by you in a way that no other being in the galaxy had. Well, apart from his little green son. But, this... This was something different.

You were something different.

Ever since you had bought that necklace, the way he felt about you had only intensified. It was scaring him in ways he didn't even want to confront. Thoughts of a relationship, of a family with you began to stir within him. It wasn't realistic- definitely just a day dream. Kriff, he hadn't even been in a romantic relationship before: how was he ever going to treat you right? Sure, he'd dabbled in a few flings here and there... Some he was less than proud of. Although he'd never broken his Creed, he had certainly bent the rules a handful of times; in his defence, he was young, and stupid... And, touch starved. In truth: he probably still was.

It had been a long while since anyone had touched him with any other intent than to kill him. He was used to the roughness of touch that came with combat: the way his fists hit another, and he was in turn hit, but your soft lingering touches were enough to distract him for the whole day.

He began to crave them: any excuse to be close to you.

If only the Mandalorian knew that he wasn't being as subtle as he thought. Even with the helmet disguising his eyes, you could feel his vision on you. At first, you felt self conscious under his gaze. You interpreted it as him glaring at you: maybe you had done something wrong with the kid? Or maybe you had offended him, and he just wasn't saying anything? But, slowly, you got better at reading his body language. It was tough at first, as Din revealed very little personal information about himself. Coupled this with the fact he was usually clad head to toe in beskar armour, you made slow progress. However, over time, you began to pick up on little cues. Soft, small hints that he wasn't glaring... He was looking at you: you'd caught him staring.

You were going to confront him about it, initially; maybe even make a light joke of it. You had quickly gone off of that idea. Soon, you decided you liked the Mandalorians eyes on you; you even let yourself believe that he might only have eyes for you.

And soon, just as he craved you, you wanted more than just his eyes on you.

~~~

The universe had a fucking funny way of answering your inner desires. When you said, you had wanted to feel him, feel his skin on your own, when you had said you wanted to feel his touch, this wasn't what you meant. Kriff. This was getting bad. Din was bleeding badly.

What had initially meant to be a pretty simple bounty had turned into a rather difficult one. The location Din was sent initially was inaccurate, and then when he arrived at the actual, correct location, it was a trap. His target had friends, and it soon became an ambush. The Mandalorian was still capable of taking them down, but they put up a pretty good fight, and before knocking out all of them, one had managed to stab Din in his side.

Which lead you to now.

Din was in your arms. He had stumbled into the Razor Crest, clutching his side with one arm and dragging the quarry with the other. You'd almost lost control in that moment, but you knew you had to stay calm for him. You rushed up to him, and quickly aided him in throwing the bounty into carbonite. Then, you made quick work of laying him down on your make shift medical bench, and asking him where the pain was coming from. Your eyes were wide with panic: he could probably tell. You were terrible at hiding emotions when it came to him, and you'd never exactly done this before. Sure, you'd patched yourself up more times than you can count: but someone else? Someone you cared about? Now that was something else entirely.

"Din," you cooed gently, trying not to make his pain worse, "I'm going to need to remove some of your armour. Is that okay? Is... Is that breaking your Creed?"

"I- No," Din huffed out, trying to be kind to you despite his situation.

"Okay, good... Good... I need you to lay as still as you can okay. I'm just going to..."

You don't know why you start narrating what you're doing. Maybe you thought it would put him at ease if he knew what was going on. Maybe it was making things worse.

Gently, you peeled away his armour from his torso, and observed the large cut down his side. You pressed your hand against him, and Din winced in pain. Your hand retracted quickly, and you ran to the first aid kit kept in the Crest. You opened the bag, and began searching around for the bacta patch and disinfectant that you needed. Your heart was beating really quickly, and you could feel Din's pulse getting weaker. His breathing shallowed. You steadied your shaking hands as you brought the disinfectant up to his wound.

"Din," you murmur, "Are you still with me? Din... I'm sorry this is going to hurt."

You saw his head nod slowly, and you began cleaning the wound as carefully as you can. He winced in pain and his hand shot up; he grabbed out to you, and his hand was wrapped around your upper arm before you knew what was happening. Despite the situation, his touch (even through his glove) surprised you. Your heart rate began to increase, and your face felt hot.

"I'm nearly done now," you promise him, "I'm just putting on the bacta patch and then you can rest."

"T-Thank you, cyar'ika," Din replied, his grip on your arm faltering before letting go.

You took his hand and squeezed it gently. Din was weak now but at least his wound has been tended to and he wasn't losing anymore blood. It was only now that the worst of it was over, that you took note of the blood across the ship. This would be one hell of a clean up. First, you washed your hands, and then you gently removed the remainders of Din's armour, save his helmet (of course). You unbuttoned his tunic and swapped it out for one that wasn't covered in blood- and one that didn't have a large hole in it. You like to think that he'd appreciate it.

With the ship finally cleaned, and Din safe, you crawled into your cot beside the child. Your eyes felt heavy as you held the child close to you: you took one last look at your Mandalorian, before finally falling asleep.

~~~

Din Djarin woke up startled. His hand went to his side, at first, and then across his chest, before ending up resting on his helmet. His eyes scanned the room before settling upon you. His eyes softened; in your arms lay his little womp rat. He was safe, and so were you. Din sighed, relieved that you were both still okay.

His eyes cast down to the pile of armour beside him: you must've removed it after he'd passed out. He recognised that he was now wearing a new black shirt, and that his old, bloodied one was nowhere to be found. His mind didn't have time to wonder where you'd put it, as the sound of him moving off of the make shift medical bench had caused you to begin to awaken. Your eye sight was blurry for a second, before focusing in on Din. He was up.

He was up!

"Din! You're awake!" you exclaim, shaking off any sleepy feeling that still remained.

"Are you alright?" Din asks, stepping towards you.

"Am I alright?" you repeat back to him, now also finding your feet, "You get stabbed, come home bloody to me -barely standing I might add- and you ask me if I'm okay?"

Din shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"Never mind me: how are you feeling?"

"I'm... I'm okay. Better now, thanks to you," Din reassured, reaching over to take the child from you now that he had woken up from his nap.

"Well, I have been told I have an excellent bed side manor," you tease.

"Oh yeah?" Din plays along.

"Really! If it wasn't for this whole bounty hunting gig, I definitely would've been a nurse," you assure confidently; although truthfully at this point in time, you have no interest in taking care of anyone else besides your small found family.

"You would've made an excellent nurse," Din chuckles.

It warms your heart: hearing him laugh.

"I thought you were going to pass out quicker than me at certain points, though," Din continues, "But I'm not dead so you must've done something right."

"Hey now, Mandalorian: in my defence, I was not expecting you to come back covered in blood and barely conscious. Forgive me if I was a little rusty."

You hadn't realised how close the two of you had become until now. His body was so close that you could almost feel the heat coming from his body. Or maybe it was yours. You weren't honestly sure at this point, but it was making your face heat up. You shyly looked away from his gaze. Seeing him like this almost felt unnatural. You were so use to him fully covered in armour, that seeing him without all the beskar felt like you were seeing him naked. Despite this, you enjoyed seeing him like this: he felt more human to you now. If he was feeling vulnerable at all, he didn't show it. If you didn't know any better, you'd almost say he enjoyed this new layer of vulnerability because it meant he could feel closer... Closer to you.

"You're forgiven," he murmurs, his voice low, "Am I forgiven, cyar'ika?"

"Hm..." you hesitate, teasing him for a second, "I will have to think about that-"

"-Mesh'la, please," he pretends to beg you, smiling under his helmet; Din's eyes remain on you, almost transfixed as you pretend to ponder the status of his forgiveness.

"Only if you tell me what m- me- mesh'la means," you whisper in a hushed tone, "Or agree to teach me Mando'a. I have to know what you are saying about me."

"Only good things," Din replies in the same quiet tone, "Beautiful."

"Beautiful," you repeat back to him, your heart swelling, "Din you are... Me- mesh'la too."

You expect him to reply: correct your pronunciation, or joke back with you but the Mandalorian has gone silent. Not an uncomfortable wooden silence. No, it was a warm silence. It felt right, and after a second, you adjusted to the new quietness. You imagine neither of you have had a moment like this in a long time. The silences you were use to only echoed with your hollowness, reflecting your loneliness. But this: this felt right.

Gently, Din leaned his head on your own. Due to the presence of his helmet, he was careful not to be too forceful, but you soon accepted the gesture, and kept your forehead on his.

A keldabe kiss.

That's what you would come to know that as. Although it originally started as slang for a headbutt, it soon became a sign of affection among Mandalorians. Affectionate moments with the Creed felt few and far between, so this was a way around that. And, it was one you quiet enjoyed. Even if you couldn't always touch your Mandalorian in the ways you wanted to, in these moments it didn't seem to matter. Despite the Creed, despite everything, there was no true barrier that could separate you and Din Djarin.

Your foreheads stay together for a moment longer, before separating. You look up at him, and you know -even without words, even without touch- he is yours, and your are his.

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kass-storycorner · 3 years ago

Note

*cough* so i really love your work!! i love everything your put out so far however i’m now going to request for angst mwehehrh. Feel free to reject this if you aren’t comfortable!!

archon x albedo but they break up with him because they still haven’t moved on from their past lover that was slaughtered and felt it would be unfair if they stayed with albedo if they still loved someone else? Thankyou!!!

don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry

I'm so sorry that it took this long, I have been working a lot the past month and I've not been well mentally soooo yeah, but I'm glad I finally finished it! I was suprised myself at what I wrote, I only had to write an ending for this so ouch haha

thank you so much for your kind words I’m- ahhh I’m so happy that you love what I shared ( ˙꒳˙ )

I’m so insecure with my writing so it’s reassuring to hear such kind words!

about the request: ooooOOOH I love this!!! And honestly my mind went directly into thousand different directions to make it even MORE angsty ahaha poor Albedo ( ╥ω╥ )

Genre: Angst, Hurt, no comfort, a bit fluff in between but it's more bittersweet

Rating: SFW

Content Warnings: mention of Khaenri`ah, mention of blood

Word count: 1,811 words

Characters: Albedo, gn!dendro Archon reader

Format: Text

Fic is under the cut!

“-and I think it is best to go separate ways from now on.” Ah, how peculiar. What is this strange feeling in Albedo’s chest? It feels like there is no air in his lungs anymore, an unsettling feeling spreading from his stomach through his whole body. Feverously he searched his mind for a reason for your words. Go separate ways? He heard what you said, but at the same time he did not understand the meaning of your words. Albedo stood there in your shared bedroom, stiff as a board his eyes pierced through you, no longer looking at you. It was as if you weren’t there.

“Albedo?”, your head peaked through the door of his office, sending him a smile. He peaked up from the work on his desk, strands of blond hair falling in front of his eyes. “Ah, (Y/N), hello,” curling his lips into a small smile at your sight. You stepped into the office, walking around the table, and leaning on it right beside him. His eyes were fixed on you. “Busy?” you asked as you brushed the strands of hair back behind his ear. A faint blush crept unto his face; you wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for how close you were to him. Clearing his throat he looked back down on the papers in front of him, answering your question. “Umm, well yes. The next expedition to the Dragonspine and my experiments need to be organised, though the formalities of filling out the forms for Jean is nothing that I am interested in.” He heard you chuckle at his words, wondering what was so funny about them. “I wonder”, you began, leaning down to him, so close the tips of your noses nearly were touching, “if is there something here that might interest you more.” “I supposed, there is,” he said and closed the distance between the two of you with a kiss.

“Albedo?”, your concerned voice pulled him out the pleasant memory that crossed his mind. He had been quite for a while now, it worried you. You weren’t sure how he’d take it, you asking to break off your relationship. It had been quite pleasant so far, the last few months with him. There weren’t any quarrels between the two of you nor reasons for the heartbreak Albedo felt right in this moment. You both were always honest to each other, about who and what each of you were. And because of this honesty each of you valued you had to break his heart. “I-“, his voice was hoarse, it had more emotions in it than he liked it to. “I need to ask you this… why?”. He finally looked at you, his cerulean eyes filled with pain. Ah, the dreadful question you knew he would ask, but you hoped he wouldn’t. There was no use in lying to him now, to not share the true reason for why you’re breaking up with him. Though you secretly wished that you could spare him the truth.

You sat under the shadows of a tree, eyes closed and feeling the warm summer breeze on your skin. “Please, don’t move.” At that you opened your eyes, looking at Albedo sitting across of you with his sketchbook and a pencil in his hands, sketching a portrait of you. “You quick with your hands, I doubt my small movements would change anything that you draw,” you said in a teasing tone, earning a raised brow from him, but no comment. There you were, the two of you. Sitting in the shadow, a comfortable silence surrounding the both of you. You watched the way Albedo furrowed his brows, looking up to you and then down to the paper, for him to sigh in frustration and starting a new sketch. “Somethings wrong?”, it has been the fourth piece of paper he rips out of the book and tosses aside. “I seem not to be able to capture your features correctly, something always is a bit off.” “Let me see,” you lean forward trying to grab one of the sketches he tossed away, but Albedo was quicker to snatch them away. “Don’t,” he says, hiding the pieces of paper behind his back. “Oh, come on, Bedo. I wanna see, I can’t look that bad” you joke, moving closer to him hoping to get a peak at his fifth sketch. Before you could even come close to taking a look he closed the sketchbook, denying you access to it. “No matter how often I try to draw you, it never does you justice”, he sighs, pinching the bride of his nose. You were close enough to him now to lean your head on his shoulder. “You know, it is quite the challenge to get the godly features of me right,” taking his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “But I’m sure in all of the centuries I’ve lived through you might be the first one to succeed at it.”

You took a deep breath, dreading the answer you were going to give him. There was no way to sugar coat it and you were sure Albedo wouldn’t want to hear a long winded explanation if it wasn’t needed. Like a bandaid that needs to get ripped off you decided to do it as quickly as possible. “I don’t love you. I’m sorry, Albedo.” At your words Albedos heart was shattering into thousand small pieces. He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the tears that were trying to fall from his eyes… still, he had so many questions for you. His mind was racing, but all he could bring out was again the same question as before. “Why?”

“Albedo, please believe me when I say I wish I could. I wish I would love you, the way you deserve it. The way I want to, the way I still love them. You mean a great deal to me, please believe this. The time we spend together was time I enjoyed and that’s why I feel the need to be honest with you now. I hadn’t said anything before because I believed I could open my heart again, open it up for you. However it seems it’s impossible for me and I am so sorry for it. I shouldn’t have led you on like this…”

Blood curling screams were filling the streets of a small city that did not exist anymore. War was always present in Teyvat, there have been the past thousand years without it, but before that? The land was filled with the blood of mortals and god alike, the first ones killing each other in the names of the second ones. The reasons for most of the wars were laughable. One started them out of hurt pride, the other to broaden their territory and a third just out of sheer boredom. Not caring a bit about the humans that were caught in the crossfire of the gods. So when the Archon War began, similar to the ones before but just the scales were so different. There you were, a small deity. The god of the woods as they called you. You never liked the blood shed, it poisoned the earth so that no plant was able to grow. Before you were able to just avoid the wars, this time around you had no choice. And in the middle of this war you met someone astonishing. Until this day you couldn’t say if it was a curse or a blessing that they made their way into your life and your heart. All you know now is just the deep grief that is always there with you since they are gone. In the middle of bloodshed and darkness that the Archon War brought with it you found someone who made you forget the horrors of it, who made the burden of the crown easier when you rose to the position of the Dendro Archon after it - a position you didn't want at first, it falling into your hands by mere coincidence. After that you spend some marvelous years with that one person by your side, but even those who aren't entirely human are mortal, even gods can be killed. With another War that came, they left your side, wanting to protect you, to protect Sumeru. Brutally slaughtered by the hands of an enemy that envied your position, your power. Now all what remains of them is the dry earth. The massive woods of Sumeru turned into deserts, a consequence of your grief. And when the day came for another war, more blood and destruction at Khaenri`ah you decided to leave. To cut all ties with Celestia and give up the seat you never wanted in the first place.

Albedo knew most of this. He knew who you are, he knew of your nature before you made him fall in love with you. You never just told him about your past lover, too much did their loss still hurt and, what you were ashamed of admitting, too much did Albedo resemble them. In the silence of the shared room you finally told him what orginally drew you to him - how much you really wished you were able to love him for himself and while yes, you liked him very much, it was someone else you saw in him when you kissed. Someone else you wished he was. At first you didn't knew it yourself, in the beginning you really believed it was possible for you to find new love... but you still wished most days they were with you. It was time to be honest with him, to speak the truth, no matter how much you hurt him. "Albedo...", you began slowley, your voice drifting to him, but what sounded like a sweet melody just hours before now makes him feel sick. "Don't." he interrupted you. "I thank you for your honesty and for telling me the truth, but I don't need to hear more." With that he left the room, making his way towards his lab on Dragonspine. Not one person in Mondstadt would think of Albedo as a dumb person, everyone says how they are impressed with how smart he his... so why does he feel so stupid right now? He was a fool to believe that he was loveable, that someone saw him for who and what he was, not what they wanted him to be. For now he just wants to be alone again, surround himself with his work and ignore these feelings in his chest. The heartbreak, the betrayel... but also the feeling of relief. Albedo did wonder how much it would've pained you if he ever loses control, but now this is not a concern anymore. And still, as he made his way up Dragonspine he couldn't help the frozen tears coming spilling from his eyes.

#genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #albedo #genshin impact #albedo kreideprinz #albedo genshin impact #genshin #fan fiction #angst #hurt #no comfort #genshin angst #i am not happy with the ending but i guess it's okay #my mind was going in a 'maybe albedo goes to the knights hq and meets kaeya there' and yeah I'm stuck in Kaebedo brain rot fight me

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coulson-is-an-avenger · 4 years ago

Note

50 or 33 with jmart for the smooch prompt list :mimhonk.emoji:

#33 - An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it, and #50 - A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck. POR QUÉ NO LOS DOS!

thank you tem!!! :D I had a lot of fun with this one, and because of that it also got Long As Fuck so bear with me on that. Set in the safehouse also! Hope you enjoy ^_^

It’s been a very, very good day at the safehouse. The Lonely has been quiet, lurking almost entirely out of sight rather than clinging onto the both of them, and Martin’s been relaxed and open, happy in a way Jon hasn’t honestly seen him in months. The Eye has been quiet as well, and even Jon’s pain levels have been down today - no small miracle given the chilly weather - and it feels like a day for new beginnings, a day for truths.

So, “I missed you,” is what tumbles out over dinner, over beans and soup and tea.

Jon hears Martin’s breath catch before he sees it, before he looks up to see the stunned smile that takes over his face. “I missed you too,” he replies softly, and Jon pretends not to hear the crack in his voice where the unused muscle of emotion splits the air.

Jon holds his gaze for an admirable amount of time, but even he wavers. He’s never been a brave man, and he looks down at the table before speaking. “There were spiders, while you were gone,” Jon begins, tracing a finger along the grain of the table. “God, I really should have gotten more in the business of squishing them.”

“Yeah?” Martin offers, encouraging. The anecdote feels clumsy, foolish, but Martin is laying a hand across the table to show his patience, and Jon is grateful.

“I never quite could make myself do it though, I guess I just-” He trails off, starts a new thread of the story. “They always made me think of you, in a way. You always cared so much about all the little things. Always insisted on carrying them out. Dreadful things that still deserved kindness in your eyes.” Like me, he doesn’t add. “I always admired that about you. So I didn’t squish them as much.” He finishes clumsily, glancing up with a flash of his eyes before looking down at the table again to pick at the grain of the wood.

Martin blinks at him. Stares at him in silence for what Jon can only assume is an eternity, until he has to look up and make sure he’s still there. And then Martin stands, tea forgotten, maneuvers himself around the table, and darts in and presses his lips to Jon’s.

It only lasts for a moment - half a heartbeat of a touch - but it’s warm and vulnerable and a bit awkward and it sends Jon’s eyes flying wide open in shock.

Martin pulls back just as quickly as he had dived in, retreating so fast he bumps into the nearby counter, his eyes widening, and the first thing out of his mouth is “Oh, shit.”

Jon can’t blame him, he’s utterly dumbstruck himself. His head feels pleasantly fuzzy, but confusion swims up to trump every other emotion until the only thing he’s able to push out of his lungs is; “I- excuse me?”

Martin blinks, his panic floundering in confusion. “I- sorry, excuse you for what?”

Jon’s brows furrow together as he tries to piece his thoughts together. “You... don’t,” he says like it’s obvious, and then hesitates. “I-I mean, you- you said... you did, but not... so why-” Jon looks hopelessly out of his depth as he gestures, not making sense. “Why did you do that?”

Martin stares, the tips of his ears burning dark red. “I don’t what, Jon?”

Jon curls in on himself, shame bubbling to the surface. What has he gotten wrong? What has he missed? “I-in the Lonely. You said you loved me.”

Martin’s breath hitches at his own words repeated back at him - words he doesn’t even remember saying. The fog had been so intense, so much and yet so pointless all at once, it had been so hard to keep anything straight, to hold down any memory or emotion. He hardly remembers saying those words, but they draw a wobbly smile out of him anyways. He supposes it makes sense that he would say them, though. Not much could cut through the fog, but Jon did. Jon always did. He still does.

“Did I? I didn’t know I had it in me to share.”

Jon shakes his head, now looking frustrated. “But you didn’t.” He insists. “You don’t... that means you don’t anymore.” His expression stalls for a second, before something akin to horror blooms on his face, and he scrambles to his feet to face him. “Martin, if you think- God, if you think you somehow owe me this after all that, let me be abundantly cl-”

“No!! No, no.” Martin cuts in, sensing Jon’s building distress and moving away from the counter to rest a hand on his shoulder. “No,” he repeats, softer. He takes a deep breath and lets himself run his thumb over the fabric of Jon’s sweater. “I don’t think I owe you. Not in that way. Christ, of course not.”

Jon is silent for several long minutes, before his voice begins working again, and he stutters back into a sentence. “O-okay. Okay. Good.” He clears his throat. “Then why-? I-I-I thought-” He gathers up what brain power he has left to sort his thoughts. Something like hope tinges his voice, and Martin marvels at how deeply Jon seems to have resigned himself to this truth, while still being eager to save his life and run away with him all the way to Scotland. Love is a funny thing. When he speaks again, his voice is so, so quiet. “After the Unknowing, I thought I lost my chance. Thought you’d moved on. N-not that I would have blamed you, I just- but you-”

“Jon,” Martin says softly, ducking his head to catch his eyes. “I wasn’t quite myself in the Lonely. I didn’t mean that as an ending.” He breaks his gaze away, looks down at his own hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I was mourning something I thought I’d lost.”

“Oh,” The word escapes Jon’s lungs in a rush; several years worth of longing filling up his chest and squeezing his throat like smoke, making his eyes sting. “Oh, I’m sorry-”

“No, no,” Martin shakes his head. “That’s over now.”

Jon presses a hand to his eyes, breathing, letting everything settle in.

“Well. That certainly makes me feel foolish.”

Martin laughs, a free, wonderful sound that fills the air with electricity and warms Jon down to his bones. He realizes he’s staring at him, watching how his shoulders move with adoration, watching the joy radiate from him with nothing short of beauty. A moment of insane courage passes through Jon, and he moves his hand to cover the one Martin still has resting on his shoulder.

He steps closer. “Do you want this then? The way that I do?” His voice is eager, and he’s afraid to breathe.

Martin’s expression absolutely melts, and he sways closer. He Saw Jon in the Lonely, in all his hopeless lovestruck worry, so he knows what he means. “Yes,” he answers. “More than anything. I don’t-” he makes a pained face, and looks down, prepares himself for the undressing that comes before the acceptance of love. “I don’t know how okay I am. Don’t know how much of me is still me after everything with Lukas and- and well, everything, but...”

“I know what you mean,” Jon assures him, running his thumbs over his knuckles. “I’m not even human anymore.” He exhales, in the tone of a joke fallen flat.

Martin squeezes his shoulder. “Exactly,” he murmurs. “But I still want to try.”

“Martin,” Jon exhales, his voice thick and his eyes wet. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

Martin tugs Jon’s hand from where it’s resting atop his to press a kiss to his knuckles, and Jon laughs, a quiet little sound, and then he’s moving, leaning back into Martin’s space; his face growing blurry as he gets up close and presses their lips together again. He misses the mark just a bit, the kiss landing a little too high on his mouth, but Martin leans up into it, rearranging their positions, and just like that it’s perfect. Not earth-shattering, not magical, just perfect, in the way that only imperfection can be. Martin lets himself sink into it.

It’s gentle, sweet, and it makes Martin’s head buzz with disbelief. He breaks away to breathe, for a moment, just to wrap his head around what’s happening, and then Jon is tugging him back in, more intentionally this time.

Jon kisses very thoroughly, Martin soon learns with amusement. He furrows his brow and crowds himself into Martin’s space, curling his hands in his shirt, and he moves his mouth in time with Martin’s like he has a purpose to follow, like he’s devoting himself to studying him; focusing on each touch with crystal clarity. He has a single-minded doggedness about the whole thing, and Martin eventually relaxes and just lets himself be kissed, following along with gentle touches and barely held-back smiles.

He raises a hand experimentally to run through his hair, and Jon kisses him deeper in response; open mouthed and wanting, tasting what he can, allowing himself to bite his lip gently. That takes the breath straight out of Martin’s lungs, and the bitten-off sound he makes apparently encourages Jon even more, as he breaks away and kisses him down across his jaw, under his chin, and down the side of his throat.

It’s frantic at first, a desperate attempt to map out as much of Martin as he can in the time he has, but the sense of urgency starts to bleed out of him, and he ends up kissing gentler and gentler the longer he lingers, until eventually Jon’s just nuzzling his nose into his skin and wrapping his arms around him for a hug. The sigh that escapes him makes Martin’s heart clench.

“I love you,” he mumbles into Martin’s shoulder, and later the weight of this will settle on their shoulders. Later they will have to sit down and figure this out, this mess of personalities and supernatural entanglement, this terrible future of fear laid out before them, and the path forward they will choose to carve out together. But for now they can sink into this embrace and breathe.

Martin doesn’t say the words back, he’s not quite there yet, but he doesn’t need to. It’s enough, it’s more than enough to just be here, for Martin to press his nose into Jon’s hair, and smile until his face aches from it.

#HELLO GAY PEOPLE THIS IS SO LONG #i may be touch starved!#the magnus archives #jonmartin #tma fic #my writing #fic #kisses prompts #god they talk SO MUCH. i do NOT know how to write Tiny Snippets #mossy speaks #ANYWHO ENJOY

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