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carnationworld-writings · 4 months ago

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The Man He Didn’t Have to Be (Tim Bradford x fem!reader)

To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !

Paring: Tim Bradford x reader

Universe: The Rookie

Word Count: 3857

Requested: No

Warnings: pregnancy, divorce, ex-husband who is a piece of s*it, mention of childbirth

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your well-being is a top priority to me.

Summary: When her world crumbles, Tim is there to step up.

Author’s note:

Surprise! I am alive! I know it's not what you wanted but, I started watching "The Rookie" and fell in love with Tim! So I needed to write something about him. I also may have a baby fever (again...) So this fic happened. Enjoy!

Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I would greatly appreciate any feedback you may have as it motivates me to continue improving. Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts!

And please forgive any grammar or spelling errors, as English is not my first language.

Klaudia 💜

Every time she thought her life couldn’t get worse, something new seemed to be waiting for her. First, her husband announced he was leaving, telling her he’d found a woman he loved in a way he had never loved her. She tried to fight for their marriage and convince him to change his mind, but nothing worked. With a broken heart, she finally decided to let him go. Even though her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, she signed the divorce papers. She attempted to rebuild her life—she found a small apartment, focused on her work, and tried not to sink into depression during the long, lonely hours. Thankfully, she wasn’t entirely alone. Tim Bradford, her best friend for years, had always been by her side, even in the middle of the night when she couldn’t stop crying or obsessing over what had gone wrong in her relationship. He was her rock, her greatest support.

Just when she thought her life was starting to settle down, she began feeling unwell. At first, she attributed it to stress, but eventually, she connected the dots and took a pregnancy test, which came back positive. She knew her ex-husband deserved to know the truth, even if he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. So, she texted him and asked to meet. What followed, however, was nothing short of her worst nightmare.

When they met at the café, she felt as if time had slowed down. He sat across from her, completely indifferent, as if everything that had happened between them was a closed chapter. He looked at her with a cold gaze, waiting for her to speak. She struggled to gather the strength to say the words that had been swirling in her head for days.

“I’m pregnant,” she finally said, looking straight at him, searching for any reaction. His face remained expressionless. For a moment, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. But after a second, his lips tightened, and his eyes showed a flicker of displeasure.

“The relationship between us was over long before I found someone else. This changes nothing,” he said coldly. Those words cut her like a knife.

“I’m not telling you to come back to me… It’s your child and deserves to have a father… ” she tried to insist, though her voice trembled.

“That’s your problem. You’ll have to deal with it,” he replied emotionlessly, standing up from the table as if the meeting had been nothing more than an irritating interruption in his perfectly arranged new life.

When he left, she felt as if the world was collapsing around her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, she wasn’t going to cry. Instead, she pulled out her phone and called Tim. As soon as he heard her voice, he knew something was wrong.

“Where are you?” he asked, no questions needed. “I’m on my way.”

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes before Tim was by her side, his eyes filled with concern. Without a word, he pulled her close, letting her lean on him as she fought back the tears. In his presence, she felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

“Tim… There’s something you should know. I…” She took a shaky breath. She felt his hold tighten around her. He rested his cheek against her head, softly rubbing her back with his hand.

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. Like we always do,” he said calmly, trying to give her as much comfort as possible.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, feeling a lump in her throat. “And it’s his. But he said it’s only my problem. He doesn’t want anything to do with this baby…” For a moment, his face showed surprise, as if he was trying to process what he had just heard. He didn’t say anything at first, pulling back slightly to look at her, and she wasn’t sure how he would react. She feared that silence, that hesitation.

“Okay,” he finally said, slowly. Tim pressed his lips together, clearly upset, though he tried to stay calm. “He’s a jerk. But you won’t go through this alone. You’ll never be alone—I won’t let that happen.”

True to his word, Tim never let her feel alone. From the moment he learned about her pregnancy, he stepped naturally into a role that felt both essential and reassuring. He took over her usual shopping, refusing to let her carry a single bag, insisting it was the least he could do. Each morning, he arrived at her door with fresh breakfast, right after his run with Kojo, the loyal dog who seemed to sense the changes happening in their lives.

Even during his shifts, Tim made it a point to check-in. He texted her regularly, asking how she felt, and called just to hear her voice, attuned to any subtle shifts in her mood. But his favourite part of the day was always the evenings when he would come to her home. Most nights, she greeted him with a smile, though the fatigue etched on her face often told a different story. Each time, he pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her like a protective blanket. Some nights she hugged him back just as tightly; other times, she simply leaned into him, letting him hold her. On those nights, he sent her to the couch, where Kojo would curl up beside her, resting his head on her lap, seeking her affection.

Tim loved cooking dinner for them, always mindful of preparing meals that wouldn’t upset her stomach. He quickly learned what she could tolerate and what made her feel worse. On the rare occasions, his cooking didn’t go as planned, he would kneel beside her in the bathroom, holding her hair back and rubbing her back—his unwavering support something she had come to rely on deeply.

What he cherished most were their late-night conversations. They talked endlessly, about work, their future, and even the small details of their day. These talks deepened their bond with each passing evening.

But tonight felt different. From the moment he arrived, he noticed the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her thoughts seemed miles away. Sensing the shift, he suggested watching a movie they’d been meaning to catch up on. She quietly agreed, thankful for the distraction, and didn’t protest when he pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her.

As they settled in, her hand absentmindedly rested on her stomach, where a small bump had just begun to show. Though she tried not to dwell on it, her mind wandered back to something a colleague had said earlier. The words echoed painfully in her thoughts—that it was her fault her husband had left, and that Tim was only with her out of pity. The sting of those words hung heavy on her heart. Tim had always been her rock, but now, more than ever, she felt guilty leaning on him. This wasn’t his burden to carry; she had to find her strength in the chaos.

“Tim,” she began softly, breaking the silence. “I feel like I’ve dragged you into something you didn’t sign up for. This isn’t your responsibility. Me, this baby… we’re not your burden.”

Tim frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not how I see it. I want to be here. I choose to be here. You’re important to me—always have been, always will be. Now that just extends to your baby too. You’re not dragging me into anything. I’m choosing this.”

She blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. The certainty in his voice made her heart ache in the best possible way. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to go through this alone. Yet doubt still lingered on the edges of her mind.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. “This is going to change everything.”

“I’m sure,” he replied without hesitation. Gently, he placed his hand over hers, almost covering her small bump. “We’re in this together. All three of us.” They both chuckled softly as Kojo, lying contentedly by her feet, gave a small bark. “Alright, four of us,” Tim added with a grin.

She nodded slowly and leaned back against his side. No matter what uncertainties lay ahead, Tim brought peace and safety into her life. As she felt him press a soft kiss on the top of her head, she knew that he was in this 100 percent. With him by her side, she felt ready to face every step of the journey ahead.

As the movie played in the background, a warm sense of comfort washed over her. Despite the unknowns of the future, she had her best friend, someone who believed in both her and the life they were building together. And together, they could face whatever came next.

The quiet hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small room, the rhythmic beeps syncing with her heartbeat. The sound, once foreign and unnerving, had become strangely comforting, marking each milestone of a journey she’d never thought possible. Lying back, her hand rested gently on her growing belly, feeling the warmth of the life moving inside her—a sensation that was as awe-inspiring as it was surreal. The nurse moved the cold, gel-covered probe across her skin, and though a shiver ran up her spine, she barely registered it. Her eyes were locked on the screen, waiting for the familiar grainy image of her baby to appear.

And then it did—a blur at first, slowly sharpening into the unmistakable shape of tiny hands and feet, twisting and turning as if to greet them. A soft gasp escaped her lips. No matter how many times she witnessed this, it always left her breathless.

Tim sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the monitor, a quiet smile playing on his lips. His face, usually so composed, softened with awe. He had always been good at hiding his emotions, but moments like these stripped away his calm facade. Without thinking, his hand found hers, their fingers entwining in a silent exchange of support. He gave her a gentle squeeze, then leaned in and pressed a light kiss on the top of her hand. It was a gesture so natural, so full of unspoken affection, that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"Everything looks perfect," the nurse said, her tone upbeat as she wiped the gel from her belly. "Baby’s healthy and growing right on track."

She nodded, a wave of relief washing over her. The tight knot of anxiety that had taken up residence in her chest loosened—if only a little. Each passing month had brought new fears and uncertainties, but slowly, those feelings were giving way to cautious hope. It had taken longer than she expected to feel this way, but now, she could finally begin to see herself as a mother. And in every vision of that future, Tim was always there, steady and unwavering, just as he had been from the beginning.

After the appointment, Tim stood and offered her his hand, helping her off the exam table with the ease of someone who had been there through every step. His presence had become her constant, a source of comfort she hadn’t known she would need but now couldn’t imagine living without. Over the months, he had kept every promise, never wavering, never complaining—always there, even when she didn’t know how to ask for help.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as they stepped outside the clinic, the crisp air hitting their faces. His hand hovered near her arm, close but not quite touching—a subtle, protective gesture, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

“I’m good,” she said, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Better than I’ve felt in a long time.”

He nodded, clearly pleased, though his eyes still scanned hers, searching for any sign of discomfort or worry. “You’re handling this like a champ,” he said softly.

She let out a light laugh. “I don’t always feel like it, but I’m trying.”

As they walked to his car, their footsteps fell into an easy rhythm, the silence between them comfortable and familiar. When they reached the car, Tim opened the passenger door for her, but before getting in, she paused, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious.

“Tim,” she began, her voice quiet but steady, “you’ve been amazing. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. I mean it. You’ve taken care of us—even though you didn’t have to.”

He looked at her, his warm, reassuring smile never faltering. “You don’t need to thank me,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I can be here.”

But she saw something flicker in his eyes—something deeper, something he wasn’t saying. Tim was always so careful, so controlled with his emotions, but she had known him long enough to recognize when he was holding something back. Yet she didn’t press him. Not now.

As they drove back to her apartment, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—baby names they hadn’t yet decided on, the nursery they were slowly piecing together, and the never-ending stream of baby books filling her apartment. They laughed about the absurd number of gadgets people swore they "needed" for a newborn, trading jokes about the most ridiculous ones.

Yet beneath their playful banter, there was a tension neither acknowledged, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. Tim had always kept his distance emotionally, respectful of her space, never pushing her for more than she was ready to give. He had made it clear from the start that he was there to support her, no matter what, and he had lived up to that promise in every way. But that didn’t stop his heart from racing when she smiled, or the way his pulse quickened when their hands brushed accidentally.

He had loved her for years—long before she had married before everything had fallen apart with her ex-husband. Tim had watched her fall for someone else, had been there when her heart broke, and now, here he was, still by her side. Taking care of her, taking care of the baby that wasn’t his.

He never said anything. He couldn’t. His feelings had to wait. Right now, all that mattered was her and the baby. His love, his desires—they would come later. For now, being there was enough. It had to be.

As the weeks passed, their lives settled into a comforting rhythm, though they didn’t notice the subtle shift that began to happen between them. Unspoken feelings hovered just beneath the surface, and they found themselves growing closer, more open with one another. Friends started to notice too. They exchanged knowing smiles as Tim’s touch lingered a little longer on her arm or back.

Angela Lopez had rolled her eyes more than once when hearing endless stories about “Tim’s friend” and all the thoughtful things he did for her and the baby. Whenever she visited the station with sweet treats for everyone, Angela often caught Tim and her in quiet moments, where their connection seemed palpable. More than once, Angela noticed the way she would place his hand over her bump when the baby kicked, and how Tim responded with a smile that said more than words ever could.

The biggest change came one evening while they were assembling the crib. She sat comfortably in a rocking chair, one hand resting on her belly, the other absentmindedly petting Kojo’s head as he lay beside her. The dog had become as protective of her as Tim was, always at her side when he could be.

She watched as Tim wrestled with the instruction manual, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re doing it wrong,” she teased, smiling.

“I am not,” he shot back, glancing up with mock indignation. “I’ve got this.”

As he fumbled with the crib parts, she laughed—a sound that felt like a rare gift these days. For a moment, it was just like old times—before the pregnancy, before the heartbreak. Just the two of them, shared an easy, familiar joy that felt like home.

Tim looked up from the pieces scattered on the floor and froze for a second, watching her laugh. He hadn’t heard that sound in too long. It was unguarded, real. He smiled, letting himself soak in the moment.

“Well, if you’re so good at this, why don’t you help instead of just sitting there judging my work?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. “I’m perfectly comfortable where I am, thanks. Besides, you’re doing great. It’s... entertaining.”

He chuckled and shook his head, returning to the task, muttering under his breath about her stubbornness. But secretly, he didn’t mind. Knowing she was there, watching him, laughing—it felt right. Like this was exactly where they were meant to be.

As the crib finally took shape, something between them shifted. There was an unspoken understanding in the air, something neither had fully acknowledged until now. Tim glanced at her, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.

He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek longer than necessary. She leaned into his touch, her breath catching in her throat.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Without thinking, Tim leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, hesitant. But when she kissed him back, her hand slipping to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. This—this—was where they were always meant to end up.

Together.

She struggled to breathe deeply as she slowly made her way down the hospital corridor, her grip tightening around the IV stand. Another contraction surged through her, pulling a low moan from her lips. She tried to focus on the gentle support of Nyla’s hand on her arm, but the pain was too consuming—sharp and overwhelming. When it finally ebbed, she glanced over at Nyla, her eyes filled with worry.

“Have you heard from Tim?” Her voice cracked, and tears welled up as she caught Nyla’s sympathetic smile.

“I texted him, and Grey knows to pass the message along. He’s coming,” Nyla reassured her. “Tim wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

She nodded, but a flicker of doubt gnawed at her. “I hope so… I don’t know if I can do this without him.” Her words were barely more than a whisper, her emotions unravelling.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Nyla said softly, her hand squeezing in quiet encouragement. “But he’ll be here, don’t worry.”

She tried to smile, but the uncertainty lingered. Tim had been her rock for so long—how could she face this moment without him? Nyla’s presence was a comfort, but it wasn’t the same.

They continued their slow walk back to the room for another check-up. The nurse met them with a concerned expression before examining her. When she announced that she was still far from delivering, a groan of frustration escaped her. She sank onto the bed, burying her face in her hands.

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she whispered, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I just want to hold my baby.” Nyla brushed a lock of hair from her face, her steady presence an anchor.

“Soon,” she promised gently. “Soon.”

The hours crawled by in a blur of contractions and fleeting moments of rest. She clung to Nyla’s guidance, her body trembling from fatigue until the door suddenly swung open. Her breath caught as Tim rushed inside, his face flushed with worry.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, hurrying to her side. His hand found hers instantly, and the crushing weight of fear lifted just a little.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice breaking with relief as fresh tears filled her eyes. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, his touch grounding her in the storm of pain and anxiety.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. His presence radiated warmth, steadying her as another contraction gripped her.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she managed between ragged breaths, her emotions spiralling. “I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.”

“You would,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “But now that I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” His gaze held hers, his thumb brushing soothing circles on her skin as another wave of pain washed over her.

They endured the hours together, Tim never leaving her side. His strength, and his quiet, unwavering support gave her the determination she needed to push through. The world blurred around them as they focused on bringing this new life into the world.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the sharp, piercing cry of a newborn filled the room. She gasped, tears streaming down her face as the nurse placed the tiny, wriggling bundle on her chest. Her arms instinctively wrapped around the baby, and she looked up at Tim. His eyes were wide, filled with awe and tears he didn’t bother to wipe away.

She looked down at the baby, overwhelmed by the fragile, perfect little face scrunched up in protest. "Hi, sweet baby," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Her fingers brushed gently over the baby’s soft cheek. "I’m your mom."

Tim stood by her side, his hand resting on her shoulder as he gazed at the baby with pure wonder. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "She’s perfect," he whispered, unable to look away.

“We did it,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his in a moment of shared joy.

Tim bent down, pressing a kiss to the baby’s head. "Welcome to the world," he murmured. "We’ve been waiting for you."

The baby’s cries softened, and the room fell into a peaceful quiet as if time had paused, leaving just the three of them cocooned in the moment. She couldn’t stop the tears—this time, they were tears of love, of pure joy. This was a happiness she had never known, a completeness she hadn’t imagined was possible.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Tim hesitated but then nodded, his hands gentle as the nurse helped him take the baby into his arms. He cradled the tiny bundle as though it were the most precious thing in the world, and in that moment, his love was unmistakable.

"Hi there... I’m Tim," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He paused, then added, “I’m not your dad, but I promise I’ll love you like one.”

Her heart swelled at his words. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm, gazing at the baby in his arms. “Tim... you are the father she deserves. You’ve cared for her from the start. You’ve been there every step of the way... and I love you for that.”

As the baby stirred, Tim smiled through his tears, and for the first time, she felt truly whole. This was their family—imperfect, unexpected, but overflowing with love. And as Tim bent down to kiss her lips, sealing the moment, she knew that they had found their way home.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford #tim bradford x you #tim bradford the rookie #the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford fanfiction #tim bradford fanfic #angela lopez #nyla harper #tw: pregnancy #tw: divorce #tw: childbirth

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babybearnation · 1 month ago

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i love it because i love you

⎇f1 drivers x gn!reader ; he talks about you in his native language (reactions) ⎇contains: arthur leclerc, charles leclerc, dino beganovic, zhou guanyu, kimi antonelli, max verstappen, mick schumacher, paul aron, pierre gasly, yuki tsunoda ⎇author's note: new content style round 3 :D full summary: he talks about you in his native language and you overhear but he doesn't realise you speak the language. native english speakers not included because i don't think it makes sense lol. ⎇content warnings: n/a ⎇word count: 1.2k

arthur leclerc:

horrified. straight horrified. not only did he not realise you were right behind him, he also didn't know you spoke french. he's blushing ferrari red and charles is laughing at him but he's frozen to the spot. he wants to run away and act like he doesn't exist, but he's stuck in place, stuck under your gaze like you're medusa and he's the idiot who fell into your trap.

when you come over and shoo everyone else away before whispering your responding confession to him in shaky french, he can't stop himself from leaning forward to kiss you. it's only a quick peck but soon he's pulling back and babbling apologies in such messy, frantic french that you literally cannot understand him now because you're still a newbie at the language.

it's adorable, really.

charles leclerc:

you think mans isn't just running off and finding the nearest hiding place? you're wrong. after hearing you respond to his confession of his feelings for you in damn near perfect french, he starts running away like a damn cartoon character. except, in true charles fashion, he's kinda fucking dumb, and he forgets that you can literally see him as he runs away.

when you open the door to his hiding spot and hit him with your best "seriously?" look, he flushes, avoiding eye contact and squeaking out a shy little apology. it makes you giggle and he perks up before he's asking you out, a sudden rush of confidence flooding his veins. when you say yes, he's tugging you into the hiding spot with him so he can kiss you, entirely unaware of how suggestive it looks.

yeah, he gets in trouble with his pr team for that one..

dino beganovic:

he's awkwardly chuckling and stammering out apologies in a mix of swedish and english because he isn't sure which language is the best option and all of his friends are laughing at him (fondly, of course) so he eventually just shuts up and meets ur gaze with a tight-lipped smile. you, of course, find this charming.

when you step forward and take his hands in yours before sharing that you feel the same way in adorably broken swedish, dino can't help but get shy all over again, prompting another round of laughter from his friends. it only gets worse when you lean up and kiss his cheek before promising to talk later and practically sprinting off.

he's bright red for the rest of the day.

zhou guanyu:

f1 is so european-centric that whenever guanyu hears another person speaking mandarin, he gets all excited. this time, however, he's mortified. he'd been yapping on the phone about you in mandarin before you'd appeared, prompting him to end his call. when you shakily confess your feelings to him in mandarin, he's shook.

he stammers and stutters before bowing to you, not knowing how else to express his gratitude and admiration for you. when you giggle at his actions, he looks up fondly before immediately launching into a rapid monologue in mandarin that you can barely understand. he seems to catch on and just sighs, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

"i like you, y/n. that's a decent enough summary of what i just said."

kimi antonelli:

honestly, he lowkey makes it worse? when he comes to realise you've overheard him and understood what he's been saying about you, he breaks and starts speaking only italian. luckily, you understand the language quite well, but it makes the entire situation so awkward. like.. there really is no denying that kimi likes you now.

luckily, you like him back and you say as much to him, prompting a very cute blush to spread across his face. he's still very much broken so he ends up responding in italian and eventually, the two of you have settled back into speaking casually the way you were before. it's only when someone notices you're speaking italian that kimi gets reminded of what you two said before and he gets shy again.

yeah, he ends up speaking exclusively italian all day because of it.

max verstappen:

oh boy, he's fucking embarrassed. it takes a lot to embarrass him or make him shy but you? you make him so flustered and giddy he forgets basically every english word ever and just speaks exclusively in dutch around you. it's very much a problem, then, when he discovers you speak fluent dutch. oh god.

when he asks if you've understood his dutch in the past and you hit back with some form of teasing over hearing his many admissions of his feelings for you, he gets embarrassed. when you kiss him, however, the old max returns and he's all confident again, kissing you back and claiming that you're his.

that doesn't mean you won't stop teasing him about this, though.

mick schumacher:

oh this sweet boy is horrified. he's almost positive he's going to get rejected when he discovers that you can speak german and that you've been hearing him consistently praise you over and over to his friends practically right in front of you. then again, that does explain why you kept blushing...

but when you share your feelings for him in slightly wonky german, he can't help but giggle and get all happy, shyly lifting his hands to his face in a weak attempt to hide his rapidly worsening blush. you end up blushing as well, and really, you're just a pair of cherries at this point with how red you both are.

but hey, you both get a partner out of this blunder, so who's upset?

paul aron:

estonian is not a common language to hear in amidst the world of f1. paul is aware of that. that's why, when his brother is supporting him at races, he freely speaks estonian to him, especially when he's talking about you. so when he overhears you talking to his brother in estonian, he's fucking terrified.

of course, before he can run off, ralf spots him, and so he's forced to confront you and the knowledge that you know about his feelings for you. rather than being upset, however, you shoo his brother away and shyly confess your feelings. paul goes speechless and decides to just kiss you as a response instead.

ralf never lets him live it down.

pierre gasly:

he's actually not as shy as the others when he learns that you can speak french and have spoken it this entire time. he thinks its cool and you two end up bonding over and speaking almost exclusively in the language... and then he forgets and starts talking about his feelings for you in front of you.

you giggle and pull him to one side before explaining your own feelings and even then, even after being so embarrassed that he'd slipped up so easily, he recovers quickly and starts flirting with you, making you laugh and smile.

and really, isn't that what he wanted to achieve?

yuki tsunoda:

you know that one clip of him where he calls swearing beautiful and then retracts it almost immediately? yeah, something similar happens when he discovers you can understand him when he's speaking in japanese. he's horrified, literally pale as a ghost, when you respond to his lovesick comment with a shaky expression of gratitude.

before he can run off and join a travelling circus or something, you're pulling him into a kiss, soft and tender. when you two part, he can't focus and the words "will you be mine?" slip out from his mouth (in japanese of course). when you giggle and respond in japanese, it's game over and he's running off, claiming he needs to do a lap of the paddock to calm down.

you find it so adorable that you really can't complain.

#ᵔᴥᵔ fics #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 reactions #f1 reactions #formula 1 headcanons #f1 headcanons #formula 2 #f2 #formula 2 x reader #f2 x reader #babybearnation

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ambers-archive · 5 months ago

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got love struck ❤︎ ࿐ ۫ .˚ ✧ ˚　

in which spencer wants your anniversary to be perfect, but everyday is perfect with you. word count: 2.1k cw: purple scarf cameo, idiots in love, fluff, happy ending, established relationship. (english isn't my first language, minimal proofread!) pt1 what if all i need is you (can be read as standalone)

Spencer closed the tab on his computer, a frustrated scowl forming on his lips. For days, he’d been scouring the internet, spending sleepless nights hunched over his desk, searching for the perfect anniversary gift for you. It was your first year together, and everything had to be perfect.

But nothing felt right. Every idea he considered was quickly dismissed. He shut his eyes, trying to quiet his overthinking mind.

You two met at his favorite coffee place, he noticed you right away when he realized you stole his seat.

You had yourself perched against the chair nuzzled against the rest of the wall.

And after a week of ogling you across the room he finally got enough courage to start a conversation over a book you were reading. Then with shaky fingers and some mumbling he finally had the courage to ask you out, suggesting a tour of the city since you just moved.

Spencer knew his demanding work schedule wasn’t easy on you. You were so patient, understanding, and kind—perhaps too kind, he often thought. Canceled dinner dates, postponed trips, missed laughs, and missed love were all too common. Yet despite it all, you always met him with a reassuring smile.

“I know you’re busy saving lives,” You had told him once, as the two of you cuddled in bed after the third missed date in a row. He hadn’t had anything better to offer than a string of apologies, and he feared one day it wouldn't be enough.

“Hey pretty boy, what’s got you so upset?” Morgan asked, his voice pulling Spencer out of his thoughts.

Spencer took a moment to collect himself before turning to Morgan. “I’m trying to figure out a good anniversary gift for her.”

In a room full of profilers he didn’t think they’d be so keen on his social cues, but of course they noticed him constantly fidgeting and sneaking quick glances at his phone.

Emily was the first to find out about you.

The teasing lasted months.

Penelope was rushing toward his desk with her tea in one hand and Morgan’s coffee in the other.

“You have to go all out!” Garcia exclaimed, barely containing her excitement. “Chocolates, flowers—oh, please tell me you’ve got the whole day planned!”

“Calm down, baby girl,” Morgan laughed, taking his coffee. “I’m sure our genius over here has something in mind.”

Spencer sighed. “I want to make it special since it’s our first anniversary, but I just don’t know what she’d like.”

“Well, what are her love languages?” Penelope asked, ready to unleash her vast knowledge of relationships.

“I think it’s quality time,” Spencer replied, a small smile playing on his lips as he thought about you. “She’s always engaged in our conversations, making strong eye contact, putting her phone away, asking questions. She also lingers after dates.”

He paused, recalling the moments you’d linger on your doorstep after he drove you home, the way you’d breathe him in after a kiss, your forehead resting against his. “She never seems in a rush to leave, like she values every moment we spend together.”

Morgan grinned, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look. “There you go, pretty boy. Think about what she loves, what makes her happy. That’s the key.”

Spencer nodded picked up his phone, scrolling through the list he’d made of all your favorite things.

He stopped on a picture of you smiling back at him from the screen, a photo he’d taken during one of your many picnics. Your hair had been flowing in the wind, your eyes crinkled with your smile as you explained the meaning behind one of your favorite songs. It was the same photo that graced both his phone and laptop backgrounds.

“She loves almost every kind of art,” he whispered, his heart swelling with affection. “Renaissance literature, realism paintings, classic books. And she’s really outdoorsy too.” He whispered, his heart expanding, pumping. thump, thump- laced with love.

He thought about the countless picnic dates, the times you’d coaxed him out of bed for a run or a hike. His mind wandered to what you might be doing right now—your second class of the day had likely started, and he imagined you taking notes, doodling in the margins.

Penelope and Morgan exchanged amused glances, their lips quivering with smiles as they listened to Spencer’s lovesick ramblings.

“Looks like Reid’s got it bad,” Morgan whispered to Garcia, who stifled a giggle behind her hand.

“He really does,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer hadn’t seen you in two weeks, four days, twenty-three minutes, and fourteen seconds—far too long. He didn’t want to waste another moment as he approached your door, your favorite flowers in hand. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait another second, as you opened the door before he could even knock.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. Every day, he found himself falling for you more and more. You gave him a shy smile, stepping out to wrap your arms around his taller frame. He hugged you back immediately, burying his head in the crook of your neck. When you finally pulled apart, he took a proper look at you, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sunlight. In that moment, and in every other, you were the epitome of beauty—a vision that left him utterly mesmerized.

“These are for you,” Spencer said softly, offering you the peonies. He realized they paled in comparison to you, but nonetheless, he held them out.

“You never forget them, Spence,” you said, your voice equally soft. Spencer chuckled, half-offended that you’d think he ever could—eidetic memory or not.

“I’m glad you like them,” he replied, taking your hand as he led you to his car, opening the door for you. “I have the whole day planned.”

“Yeah?” Your head rises of its own accord against the car seat.

"I really want it to be perfect."

It’s already perfect because how much better can it get you thought? You're in his car, your favorite songs playing in the background and his hand never leaves your side.

“It already is.” You say grazing your thumb over his knuckles.

You finally reach the place away from everyone else. “There’s a trail nearby and a perfect place for a picnic.” Spencer whispers, slipping his hand into yours again.

It fits so perfectly.

You smile, squeezing his hand “Lead the way.”

In a field of daisies Spencer pulls out a blanket, carefully placing his gifts as he pats the spot next to him. You nestle against his taller frame, he smells like sandalwood, coffee, and home.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask him, he smiles down at you playing with your hair absentmindedly.

“You. Always you.” You get the familiar, but nevertheless oh-so welcome kick in your stomach every time he smiles at you.

“What about you?” He asks in return, and you shrug, not able to convey all your emotions.

“I'm thinking that I want my gifts.” You say slightly pouting.

With a shy smile, Spencer untangled himself from you and reached for the presents. He handed you a beautifully wrapped package and a small painting, both wrapped with care.

“I hope you like them,” he said, his voice tinged with nervousness.

Your eyes lit up as you unwrapped the gifts, revealing a limited edition of Sylvia Plath’s work—a book you’d mentioned offhandedly that you’d been searching for. Your gaze met his, overflowing with emotions you hadn’t known were possible. You always believed in love, but this? This was beyond anything you’d imagined. It made all the heartbreaks of the past worth it because they led you to him.

You abandoned the gifts, flinging yourself into his arms. He laughed, catching you as you both tumbled onto the grass. Spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you close.

“They’re perfect,” you whispered. “Thank you so much.”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed. “I’m glad you like them,” he replied, still holding you.

“How did you even find it?” you asked, marveling at the book.

“Brittney Johnson—remember the missing persons case we solved? Her dad’s a book collector. He was really grateful and said if we ever needed a favor, he’d be happy to help.”

You smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. You’d spent so long building walls around yourself, convincing yourself you didn’t need a relationship. But with Spencer, those walls crumbled before you even had a chance to put them up.

“I also wrote you a card, my handwriting isn't the best, but I know you like words of affirmation” Spencer said, reaching into his bag. But before he could present it, dark clouds gathered overhead, and raindrops began to fall, dampening the ground.

“Seriously?” Spencer groaned, quickly sheltering you with his jacket. The chocolate and sandwiches were ruined, along with your clothes. The two of you hurried to the car, making sure the gifts were safe, and finally found shelter inside.

“I’m sorry our picnic was ruined, angel,” Spencer said, helping you fix your hair.

“It’s not ruined, Spence. We can have a night in, order some Chinese, and finish a new episode?” you suggested, trying to cheer him up.

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed, though he couldn’t hide his disappointment as he started the car.

𐙚 ✱ ❤︎ ࿐ ۫ .

Back at your apartment, the two of you hurried inside, drenched from the rain. You kicked off your shoes and quickly disappeared into your bedroom, returning with dry clothes for both of you. You handed Spencer his sweater, the one you’d “borrowed” long ago, and couldn’t help but smile as he accepted it.

“Hey, I was looking for this,” he said, pulling on the warm sweater.

“Sorry I stole it,” You replied, not the least bit apologetic.

He shook his head, following you to the kitchen, where you were setting up takeout containers on the counter. The sweater smells like you and he thinks he should let you keep it. It smells like cherries, winter warmth and like the love of his life.

“I love that you did. I feel closer to you whenever I wear it.”

You blushed, grateful he couldn’t see your flushed cheeks as you turned to grab plates. Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“This isn’t how I planned our anniversary,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”

You turned in his arms, cupping his cheek as you gazed into his warm eyes. “Spence, it was perfect. It’s not about the flowers or the gifts or the picnic. It’s about being with you.”

Before Spencer could respond, you gently stepped out of his embrace, suddenly remembering you still had his gift to give.

“I have a surprise for you,” you said with a smile, rummaging through the gift bag. You walked back to him, holding up a beautifully knitted purple scarf.

“My mom’s been teaching me how to knit, and this is the first thing I made. It’s for you. I know you get colds easily, and keeping your neck and chest warm can help reduce the shock of inhaling cold, dry air, which irritates your respiratory tract. I even stitched my name on the end, so a part of me is always with you.”

Spencer’s face lit up as he accepted the scarf, immediately noticing how it carried your familiar scent.

“This is so thoughtful,” he said, his eyes soft with appreciation. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been this concerned about my colds. Although, just so you know, wearing a scarf alone won’t prevent you from catching a cold. Colds are caused by viruses, usually spread through respiratory droplets or by touching contaminated surfaces.”

You smiled at his rambling, finding comfort in the way his mind worked—it was like a love language all its own. Chuckling softly, you wrapped the scarf around his neck, adjusting it just right.

“It’s the thought that counts, angel,” he said sincerely, his voice filled with warmth. “It’s already my favorite scarf.” He then brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to them.

It's in the quiet, messy, beautifully imperfect moments like this, spencer thinks: where love is felt in every heartbeat, every glance, and every shared breath.

thank you so much for reading <33

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #my writing #writing #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fandom #fluff

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cherrylovelycherry · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! I wanted to say that I really love your writing, I spent hours binge reading without even noticing! I also love how creative your "menu" is. I wanted to ask if you take requests? If so, could I request a Boothill x Fem reader souffle? It can be any kind of plot or without plot at all. I just really like your writing and would like to see one of Boothill. Thank you so much for your time -anon

.note. hihi anon! aww it's nice that you like my writing, thanks! (ㅅ´ ˘ `) this took me a while, uni is being hard on me. sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language. anyway, i'm kicking my feet as i write this. i have the hc that boothill is sweet and gentle when it comes to intimacy, the complete opposite of his appearance, so yeah. hope you like it! ദ്ദി (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)~✧

𓂅new order. "soufflé and a éclair au chocolat."

You know what they say — save a horse, ride a cowboy!

pairing. Boothill x fem!reader cw/genre. nsfw, fluff, cunnilingus, blowjob, some praise kink, first time, mdni synopsis. you ended up fucking a cowboy full menu

You're were with Boothill this afternoon, as he was willing to give you lessons on horse riding after he realised how incredibly inexperienced you were.

You were lucky he taught you, though you assumed it would be his way of repaying the favors you did him, fixing and improving his robotic body countless times.

The countryside is just outside of the busy city, so, as somone who lived in the city, being with Boothill in the countryside was very different.

After an hour or two, you started to grow tired and Boothill noticed it. He offered for you to come to his house, or so you thought, since that was where he was staying for a while, instead of walking all the way back home in such a tired state. You nodded, exhuasted, just wanting to lay your head on a pillow.

As Boothill walks with you check your phone, and there's a message from your roommate asking where you were. You quickly text that you're staying at Boothill's for the night.

Another message appears, and when you open it, it says;

"You're staying with Boothill for the night?? OMG, you know what they say — save a horse, ride a cowboyyy!"

You felt the heat rise to your face almost instantly as you read the message. Which caused curiosity in him, approaching where you were.

"Hey, you ok? You're turning red, darlin'."

As if trying to see what the message was about, you moved your head to the side. Which ended up being for the fun of it as you quickly put your phone away.

The evening sun was already peeking out, being chased by the darkness of the night.

With somewhat quick steps, it managed to set before you, curiosity etched across his features, Boothill reached out to touch your cheek. "Seriously, you look like a ripe tomato. Did somethin' happen?"

Your heart skipped a beat as his fingers slowly touched your cheek. You took a shaky breath as his hand continued to touch your face.

You quickly looked away, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I'm fine, just tired. That's all," you said quietly, trying to sound convincing.

The feeling of his hand on your skin sent chills down your spine, reminding you of the message your roommate sent.

You let go of his grip, as you both continued walking.

Was it possible that…he was thinking the same thing?

You shook your head slightly at the thought.

"Just my stupid roommate making a dumb joke." You tried to laugh it off, but even you could hear how forced it sounded.

Boothill continued to watch you intently, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment longer before he spoke.

"Darlin', I can tell when you're lyin'. You're makin' it kinda obvious," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Hah, right, whatever you say." You scratched your cheek with your hand, hurrying your pace.

He merely laughed lightly at your response.

You both walked towards where Boothill was staying, it was a somewhat remote house, but it was in the city.

The house was somewhat large, the owner of which was a grandmother, who Boothill had once saved. She was extremely sweet to let him stay there if he needed it.

As you arrived at the house, you noticed how the sky had darkened even more, the stars slowly appearing as the night settled in.

As you both reached the house, Boothill unlocked the front door. It creaked open, and he stepped back to let you walk in first.

With a muttered "thank you", you entered the house. It was cozy and comfortable, a warm place that seemed to radiate with a hint of nostalgia.

Boothill closed the door behind him and led you into the living room.

"Make yourself at home darlin' I'll go and let her know I've brought you with me," he said before disappearing into the hallway.

You took a seat on the couch in the living room, and as soon as your butt met the cushion, you felt your phone vibrate.

Another message… probably from your roommate.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and quickly unlocked it, curiosity getting the better of you.

Sure enough, it was another message from your roommate, still riding the horse/cowboy joke.

This time, she sent a gif of a cowboy riding a horse, with the message; "Yee-haw! Ride that cowboy, babe! 😉"

You couldn't help but sigh, feeling a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. And even some amusement at the gif she sent. Your roommate was way too invested in your supposed "crush" on Boothill.

You groaned inwardly Great. It was never going to end. Your roommate was going to make this into a running joke for months, maybe even until the end of time.

Your irritation was interrupted as you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

Boothill appeared a moment later, walking back into the living room. He took a seat on the opposite side of the couch, still maintaining a respectable distance from you.

"She's just glad I'm finally bringin' someone here," he chuckled, referring to the house's owner.

He leaned back into the couch, his eyes still fixed on your form. There was a small smile on his face.

You shifted in your seat, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth at his words.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure she's had to deal with your antics for a while now," you quipped, trying to sound lighthearted.

Boothill let out a mocking gasp, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense.

"Excuse me? Are you implyin' that I'm a troublesome guest? Me? A perfect gentleman?"

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"Oh yes, the perfect gentleman," you said, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

He feigned an expression of innocence.

"I'll have you know, I am a model guest. I make sure to clean up after myself, respect the property, and always ask for permission before snackin' on somethin'."

You couldn't help but laugh at his attempts to defend himself.

"Right, because asking for permission to raid the fridge is the epitome of good manners," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "And let's not forget the time you accidentally broke a vase and tried to mend it with duct tape."

He fakely frowned a little.

"Hey, I still stand by that duct tape solution. It looked pretty darn good once I was done with it," he chuckled, a hint of guilt in his voice.

You shook your head, still amused.

"You're lucky the house's owner has a soft spot for you. Otherwise she wouldn't let you stay here any longer."

He shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

"What can I say? I'm irresistibly charmin'."

He stretched lazily, his metal arms extending with a soft whir.

"But seriously, she knows I ain't cause no real trouble. And besides, I keep the spiders away for her," he added with a wink.

You snickered. "Ah, yes, the dutiful bodyguard against the eight-legged critters. She must be so thankful for your bravery."

He laughed, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

"You laugh now, but when you have a spider the size of your hand crawlin' up your leg, you'll be beggin' for my services," he teased.

"Please, like I'd ever let it come to that," you retorted. "I'd fight that spider off with a rolled-up newspaper if I had to."

He chuckled again. "Oh, I don't doubt that for a second darlin'. You ain't afraid of much, are you?"

The lighthearted atmosphere was refreshing, and you found yourself enjoying the exchange.

"Heh, I guess not."

You put a lock of your hair behind your ear, while Boothill turned on the medium-sized television in the room. The fireplace made the cold outside not felt at all.

The soft glow of the television filled the room, casting shadows on the walls.

Boothill grabbed the remote and started flicking through the channels, looking for something to watch.

"Anythin' ya want to watch?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

You tilted your head, pretending to think for a moment before answering.

"How about a cowboy movie?" you suggested, a teasing tone in your voice.

"Hah! A good one then."

As you glanced at Boothill, you noticed the way the light reflected in his eyes, their artificial luminescence dancing with the flicker of the screen.

"You hungry? I can whip somethin' up for ya in the kitchen," he offered, his voice still carrying a hint of humor.

You considered his offer.

"Nah, I'm alright," you replied, your attention half-focused on the TV.

The more time passed, the more interesting the movie became. You both let out one or another comment about this. Until you and him were silent.

He leaned back against the couch, his metal arm resting along the back. Despite his mechanical parts, he still managed to exude a sense of comfortable familiarity.

His gaze flicked away from the television, locking onto yours.

"You okay, darlin'? You're a little quieter than usual."

You were caught off guard for a moment, surprised by his perceptive question.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you answered, a little too quickly. Lie, you were falling asleep.

The truth was, you were fighting the urge to yawn.

"I'm just a lil tired ," you added, trying to sound nonchalant. Another lie, your whole body hurt from the physical exercise you were doing earlier in the field with Boothill.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his gaze.

"Uh-huh, 'a little tired,' ya say," he said, clearly not buying your act.

He leaned forward a bit, studying your face.

"Your eyes are heavy, and you're yawnin' more than a kitten."

He thought for a second before placing a cushion from the couch, which they were sitting on, over his legs.

"Here." He said, patting the cushion a few times, so you could lay your head there.

"Are you calling me a tired kitten?" you protested, unable to stop a small yawn from escaping your lips as you spoke, proving his point.

Your eyes widened slightly as he patted the cushion on his lap, offering it to you like some kind of makeshift pillow.

Your heart skipped a beat, the situation feeling suddenly more intimate.

But your body yearned for rest, your tired muscles calling out for a moment of peace.

He smirked, clearly amused by your tired protest.

"I dunno, if the shoe fits…" he joked, his gaze still fixed on you.

As you hesitated, hesitating to accept the offer, your tired body won out over your embarrassment.

With a defeated sigh, you slowly leaned down, resting your head on the pillow of the cushion, now laying across his lap.

Your heartbeat quickened as you felt the firm but gentle support of his thighs beneath you.

He chuckled softly as he noticed your hesitation, but allowed you to lean down and rest your head on his lap.

"There you go, darlin'," he murmured as you settled into the makeshift pillow.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Boothill remained silent for a moment, observing your tired state.

"Comfy?" he asked finally, his voice a low rumble.

"Mhm." You let out an affirmation towards his words.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion that tugged at your eyelids.

The sound of the movie in the background faded away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing.

For a moment, there was a silence between you, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

Instead, it felt soothing.

He watched you closely as you let your guard down, your eyes slowly drifting closed.

With each breath you took, your body seemed to relax further, almost melting into his lap.

Boothill's metal fingers gently traced the outline of your hair, almost on instinct, as if seeking to provide some kind of comfort.

A soft, almost silent chuckle passed his lips as he noticed your tired state.

You felt your body relax as tension drained from your muscles, the weight of the day's physicality finally catching up to you.

Boothill seemed content to remain silent, allowing you to rest in comfortable respite.

Your mind started to wander, thoughts blending together seamlessly. You felt strangely at peace in this position - head resting on his lap, his metal fingers brushing against your hair, the sounds of the movie like a distant hum.

You felt utterly at ease, your tired body finally getting the rest it desperately craved.

Boothill's presence was both comforting and grounding, his touch a constant reminder of his attentiveness towards you.

Your thoughts gradually faded into weary tiredness, your mind struggling to stay awake longer.

You found yourself drifting on the edge of sleep.

He continued idly running his metal fingers through your hair, a soothing rhythm that seemed almost designed to lull you deeper into relaxation.

As your breathing slowed, growing more rhythmic and steady, he could tell that you were moments away from drifting off to sleep.

His eyes never left your face, taking in your relaxed expression and the soft curves of your features.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. There was a certain satisfaction in seeing you at peace, especially after a long day.

You felt his fingers running through your hair once more before you fell completely asleep.

Your mind slowly slipped away from consciousness, and the world around you faded into a drowsy haze.

You don't know how much time passed, but you slowly opened your eyes, keeping them half-lidded.

You weren't touching the couch and you felt like they were grabbing you.

Oh, you were being carried.

Keeping your eyes the same way, you looked up, watching as he was carrying you up the stairs.

You felt like in those princess stories in which the prince carefully carries the princess.

As he carried you up the stairs, his grip firm and gentle around you, he took note of your half-lidded eyes slowly fluttering open.

He chuckled softly as he caught your gaze, realizing you were half-awake.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he teased quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He continued up the stairs, navigating carefully to not accidentally hit your head or anything else.

"Go back to sleep, dear"

He was taking you to a spare room so that you could sleep more comfortably.

Even in your semi-asleep state, you heard the soft rumble of his voice, the sound soothing your tired mind.

A small, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you heard him call you "sleepyhead." It was a nickname you hadn't heard from him before.

He carried you gently upstairs, the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor blending with the silence of the house. You kept your eyes half-open, still disoriented and groggy.

"Mmph…" you managed to mumble in response, your drowsy brain struggling to form coherent words.

He chuckled at your sleepy attempt at a response, finding your disoriented state endlessly endearing.

"Shhh," he whispered, his metal fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"You're barely awake, darlin'. Just go back to sleep, we're almost in the guest room."

The soft hallway lights cast long shadows ahead of him, dancing softly against the walls as he continued on.

Finally reaching the spare room, he carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Gently, he laid you down on the bed, tucking the blankets around you like he was handling a delicate artifact.

As you were gently lowered onto the bed, the soft sheets and blankets wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, your body automatically snuggled into their embrace.

A small, satisfied sigh escaped your lips as your tired muscles sink against the mattress.

The cool sheets felt soothing against your skin as you slowly settled into the bed, still in a half-asleep state.

You felt his touch once more as he carefully adjusted the blankets, ensuring you were tucked in properly.

"There we go," he murmured, his voice low and almost soothing.

As you were laid on the soft mattress, the blankets wrapping around you like a cosy cocoon, you felt the exhaustion fully taking over again.

Your tired mind was too drowsy to think clearly, your eyelids feeling heavy once more.

You vaguely registered his movements around you as he seemed to be adjusting something near the bed.

"…Boothill?" you mumbled his name, your voice still thick with sleepiness.

He paused, looking down at you with a hint of surprise at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, darlin'?" he replied quietly, his voice a gentle rumble.

He finished adjusting the blanket, ensuring you were completely covered and tucked in.

He then leaned closer to the bed, his eyes studying your sleepy face for a moment, before a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You need somethin', or are you just makin' sure I'm still here?" he teased gently.

Your sleepy brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, the drowsiness making it difficult to string words together.

"Mmph… jus' makin' sure…" you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

You felt strangely vulnerable in this half-asleep state, the tiredness leaving you without the usual guard you had up.

The room was quiet, the only sound being the soft rustling of the blankets as you shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable.

You could feel his presence close to the bed, his eyes still fixed on you.

Literally the idea of what you were going to try to say left you. So you frowned, keeping your eyes closed.

Until you managed to remember something, "The girl who is with you will be…very, veeery luckyy,"

He raised an eyebrow at your drowsy mumble, his grin widening slightly.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice soft and amused.

When you mentioned the hypothetical luck of his future girlfriend, his gaze softened, a hint of something unreadable in his expression.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head slightly. "You're still dreamin', darlin'."

He reached out, his metal fingertips lightly running through your hair once more, a soothing gesture.

He stood silently nearby, watching you as you fought against the fog of sleep.

As you mumbled something about the girl he might date, his expression softened even further. He couldn't help but find your sleepy ramblings both amusing and endearing.

You hummed with pleasure as you felt his metal fingertips gently run through your hair once more, the sensation sending a soothing wave through your tired body.

Your eyes remained closed, too heavy to open, and yet some part of your tired mind stubbornly held on to consciousness.

"Mm…not dreamin'…jus' sayin'…" you protested, your words slurring together slightly.

Your mouth attempted to form more words, but fatigue weighed heavily on your tongue, making it difficult to speak clearly.

"Lucky…" you mumbled once more, the word sounding more like a sigh than anything else.

He chuckled softly beside you, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place.

"…Darlin', you're not exactly makin' sense," he teased, his tone warm and affectionate.

He continued to run his mechanical fingers through your hair, the soothing motion seemed to melt away any tension still lingering in your body.

As you mumbled about luck and being lucky, he chuckled again, the sound low and gentle.

Your words came out alone, almost like a yawn that couldn't be stopped. "C'mere…" You said, as you looked at him, you opened your eyes a little this time.

His hand paused in your hair, caught off guard by your request.

He looked at you, your half-open eyes peering up at him through the haze of sleep.

A mix of surprise and amusement played across his face. "You want me to come closer?" he asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He stood there for a moment, as if trying to decipher your sleepy request, before moving closer to the bed.

“Mhm,” You blurted out, affirming his words.

His eyes scanned your face, taking in your half-open eyes and the sleepy smile on your lips.

"You're a bossy little thing, even when you're half-asleep," he said with a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

He leaned over slightly, his metal hand still resting on your hair, gently smoothing out the messy strands.

By the time he got close enough, your body acted on its own.

"Lucky.." You murmured as you grabbed his face with both hands and placed your lips on top of his, quickly but softly.

Caught off guard by your unexpected move, his eyes widened slightly when he felt the softness of your lips against his. For a moment, he froze, his brain trying to comprehend what was happening.

But it didn't take long for him to respond. His hand on your hair slid down to your cheek, the coolness of his metal fingers contrasting with the warmth of your skin.

He returned the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a gentleness that contradicted his cybernetic appearance.

After a few seconds, he pulled away slightly, "Darlin', you're gonna be the death of me…" he murmured

As you felt his response, his cool fingers contrasting with the warmth of your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes still closed, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Your tired mind was still in a sleepy haze, but the kiss seemed to awaken a different kind of energy within you. You let out a sleepy giggle at his words, your eyes still half-lidded.

“You’re a little too cheeky when you’re sleepy," he admonished, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You're gonna give a cowboy a heart attack."

It was a nice way to put it since he physically had no heart.

His eyes tracing the curve of your smile on your lips. Your tiredness seemed to fuel a playful energy within you, making you even more endearing in his eyes.

He shifted his position slightly, his body now facing you fully, one knee on the bed. His metal hand cupped your chin, tilting your face up towards him as he leaned in slightly.

"And here I am, trying to be all gentlemanly and let you get some sleep," he teased, his voice low and full of mock reproach.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the drowsy state making you even more cheeky than usual. Besides, despite being tired, your consciousness was more exact. You were leaving the state of drowsiness.

"Gentlemanly, huh?" you mumbled, your words still slightly slurred by sleepiness.

You pushed yourself up on one elbow, leaning towards him as much as your tired body would allow. "That's cute," You commented, your other hand reaching out to touch his chest.

You chuckled softly, "Besides, whose fault is it for being so irresistibly kissable?" you retorted.

You liked to see how his face turned slightly red, being visible only by the night light that came through the window.

You were enjoying the unexpected turn of events, the boundaries between friendship and something else starting to blur.

His eyes widened slightly at your words, the compliment catching him off guard.

He watched intently as you leaned forward, your touch against his chest igniting a spark under his metal skin.

Thanks to you, who had been able to connect and 'create' new nerves that would be connected to his robotic parts, managing to have at least a slight sensation of touch in his body.

His eyes flicked down to your hand before returning to meet your gaze, his expression a mix of amusement and something else he couldn't quite hide.

Your words had found their mark, and he couldn't deny the reaction they provoked. Despite his usual confidence, there was something about your sleepy flirtations that had him uncharacteristically flustered.

He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor, but a hint of a blush betrayed his reaction.

He leaned in closer, his body nearly hovering over yours as you leaned up on your elbow. His metal hand moved from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers tracing circles on your skin.

Your senses seemed hyper-aware in this exhausted state, and the feeling of his metal fingers tracing circles on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

The way he loomed over you, his body hovering just above yours, made your heartbeat quicken. There was a sudden tension in the air, a subtle shift in the dynamics of your relationship.

You looked up at him, your eyes no longer had that flash of tiredness.

He could see the change in your eyes, the drowsiness slowly giving way to a sharper focus. A silent understanding seemed to pass between you both; the tiredness had faded, replaced by a different kind of awareness.

He leaned in even closer, his face now only inches away from yours. His eyes held a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed desire, studying your features as if seeing you in a new light.

The air thick with an unspoken tension. Your skin tingled where his metal fingers touched your neck, a mix of cool certainty and unexpected delicacy.

"You're awake now, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice lower than usual, hinting at the effect you were having on him.

His fingers continued their gentle dance along the back of your neck. He seemed to be wrestling with something, caught between his customary charm and the unfamiliar surge of vulnerability.

Your lips parted slightly, the proximity making it difficult to focus on anything but him.

His eyes were searching yours, studying every detail as if trying to memorize each inch of your face. His gaze remained fixed on you, watching how your eyes responded to his closeness.

But, oh, he was holding back, there was an evident hunger within him.

A hunger he never thought he wanted, specifically from you.

He saw your reaction, the slight intake of breath, the way your lips parted slightly.

His mind was hazy with a million thoughts, all centered on you and how much he wanted to close the remaining space between you.

His metal fingers moved up from your neck, tracing a path along your jawline before gently brushing against your bottom lip.

"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched slightly at his touch, the feeling of his metal fingers on your lip setting your nerves alight.

His voice was soft but laced with a barely restrained intensity. He was struggling with his own desires, trying to hold back but also aching for more.

You hesitated for a moment, caught between wanting to give in to the budding intimacy and fearing the consequences.

Your eyes met his, searching his gaze for any hint of insecurity or doubt. But the desire in his eyes made it clear that this was not a whim or a passing fancy for him.

"But I don't want you to stop," You responded also quietly. Your eyes left his for a moment, looking down at his lips.

Your words were like music to his ears, banishing the last remnants of his hesitation.

His breath hitched slightly as your eyes drifted to his lips, the silent desire in your gaze mirroring his own.

His hand shifted, moving to cradle your face, his thumb resting just under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

And, with just a nod from you, he couldn't help it anymore.

Being careful not to hurt you, he somewhat carelessly brought his lips to yours, pressing them with need.

Your confirmation was all he needed.

The moment your heads met, there was an explosion of sensation. He deepened the kiss, his other hand gripping your waist, drawing you closer to him. His body pressed against yours, the coolness of his metal chest contrasting with the warmth of your skin.

His tongue eagerly explored your lips, seeking access to your mouth, a silent plea for more, for more of you.

There was a certain urgency in his actions, a hunger you could practically taste in the way he held you, the way his tongue moved against yours.

As his tongue sought entry into your mouth, you didn't hesitate to respond in kind.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, needing to feel more of him against you.

His hands roamed restlessly over your body, as if trying to memorize every inch of your skin through your clothes. He needed to feel every part of you, as if the physical contact could quench the hunger burning within him.

The kiss grew more urgent, more demanding. His cool metal fingers gripped your waist, holding you tightly as he pressed you further into the mattress.

His tongue danced with yours, a silent battle for control, each movement charged with raw desire. There was a hint of something wild in his demeanor, the usually controlled cowboy succumbing to his most primal instincts.

He groaned softly into the kiss as your hands tangled in his hair, the feeling both pleasurable and arousing.

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, arching against him in a silent plea for more.

His hands explored your body, tracing the contour of your curves, the cool metal of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nibbles along your sensitive skin.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured against your neck, his voice hoarse with desire.

A gasp escaped your lips as he moved from your mouth to your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin.

Heat pooled in your core, his words and actions igniting a fire within you.

Your fingers gently tugged at his hair, a silent signal urging him on. A soft moan escaped from your throat as he bit down lightly on a particularly sensitive spot.

"You have… no idea," you managed to gasp out, your voice shaky with need.

He hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating along your sensitive skin.

Your gasps and slight moans only fueled his desire, the sound of your voice shivering with need causing a shiver to run down his system.

His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve, as if mapping out a territory he now desperately wished to claim as his own.

He smirked slightly against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses that were slowly moving down to your collarbone.

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," he retorted, his voice carrying a low, sultry tone.

His hands moved lower, resting on your hips, gently guiding your body against his.

His smirk against your neck sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat of your desire growing with each passing moment.

His hands roaming over your body and his lips tracing a path down your collarbone added fuel to the flame.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access to your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly as he continued his assault on your skin.

"Boothill…" you whispered, his name sounding like a prayer tumbling off your lips.

Your whispered plea, his name falling from your lips like a litany, sent a shock through his system.

He paused his ministrations for a moment, lifting his head to look at you.

Your eyes were half-lidded, your cheeks flushed, and your hair slightly disheveled. You looked utterly captivating in that moment, your desire for him written all over your face.

His hands left your body, this time heading to your shirt.

I was about to roll it up until his brain made him stop for a moment.

"Do you want…to do it?" He dared to ask you, seeking your consent. His eyes boring into yours gently.

You met his eyes, seeing the mixture of desire and restraint in his gaze.

Your breath still slightly ragged, you nodded slowly.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want this. I want you."

As he pulled your shirt off, his hands skimmed over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, partially undressed before him.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming over your body, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

His words, a simple compliment carrying more weight than usual, caused your heart to skip a beat.

His eyes trailed over your body, taking in every detail as if you were a masterpiece hanging in a gallery.

The way he looked at you, with a mixture of desire and admiration, made you feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

His eyes were fixed on you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

He leaned down, his lips finding your neck, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone and down your chest. Finding your bra very annoying.

The combination of his touch, his kisses, and his words made you feel like you were slowly unraveling.

His mouth trailing along your skin was driving you insane with need and desire.

His lips trailed down your neck and down your chest until they reached the barrier of your bra. He paused for a moment, his hands gently tracing the edge.

"Can I?" he asked quietly, his fingertips brushing against the fabric.

The way he was handling you, with a mixture of reverence and desire, made you feel both cherished and desired.

His lips returned to your neck, leaving soft, teasing kisses as he waited for your response.

As his fingertips traced the edge of your bra, your heart pounded in anticipation, your body aching for more of his touch.

His request, whispered in a soft, hoarse voice, set your nerves on fire.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes,"

He didn't need further coaxing. His hands quickly unclasped your bra, freeing your chest from its confinement.

His lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of kisses down your newly bared skin. He seemed to savor every inch of you, as if unable to get enough.

The feeling of his lips on your bare skin was nothing short of maddening.

His hands, now free from the barrier of your bra, roamed freely over your torso, as if he were mapping a new territory.

His hands instinctively went to your breasts, massaging them slowly and gently, touching the tips of your breasts. Causing you to flinch at the coolness of his fingers.

Without further ado, his mouth moved to one of your breasts, his other hand touching the other.

He sucked and nibbled gently, drawing a gasp from your lips.

His mouth on your sensitive skin sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching as his tongue flicked against one of your nipples.

Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close, your fingers clenching tightly as he continued his ministrations.

You gasped, arching your back towards him, silently pleading for more of his touch.

His hands continued to explore your body, his touch firm yet gentle, as if trying to memorize every contour.

His fingers traced circles over your hip bone, then moved lower, slipping under the waistband of your pants.

This time he didn't ask, he raised his head and looked at you, with those eyes full of pleading.

Oh, that look you never thought you'd see in him.

The look in his eyes was one you never thought you'd notice coming from him.

It was a silent plea, a silent "Let me take care of you."

Hearing your gasps and slight moans, he wondered why it had taken him so long to cross this line with you.

You could feel the desire growing inside you, a burning need for more contact, more of him.

You raised your hips, silently giving him permission to remove your pants, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Slowly, he slid your pants down along with underwear in one go, his hands skimming over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You could feel his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your exposed body.

He ran his hands gently down your thighs.

Now you were completely naked in front of him, your body on display, vulnerable and exposed.

His gaze roamed over your body, taking in the sight of you in all your glory.

In his eyes you were the most perfect thing that could exist, a goddess, an angel come down from the heavens.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence and desire.

He leaned down again, pressing his lips against your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses. Then, he pressed light kisses on your legs, moving closer and closer to where you needed him the most.

Your body was aflame with desire, every touch of his sending your senses into overdrive.

Your legs opened slightly, inviting him closer, silently pleading for more of his touch.

His lips moved over your skin, his kisses growing more insistent as he made his way to the inner part of your thighs.

"Please," you managed to gasp out, desperate for him to touch you where you needed him most.

He chuckled softly against your skin, enjoying the fact that he had you completely at his mercy.

His chuckling set your blood boiling, your body arching towards him in a silent plea.

He knew what you wanted, what you needed, and he was enjoying every second of it.

"Patience, darlin'," he drawled, his lips trailing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He was taking his time, teasing you, drawing out the pleasure, and driving you insane in the process.

He continued his assault on your inner thighs, leaving gentle bites and kisses, slowly moving closer to your center.

His hands were now firmly gripping your hips, holding you in place, preventing you from bucking up against him in a plea for more contact.

Until after that little torture of his, his lips hovered over your aching center, kissing above your lips, softly and gently.

You were a wreck.

Your body ached for more contact, more of him, and he was purposely taking his time.

Instead, he began to trace small, feather light kisses around your aching core, his lips moving slowly but purposefully, avoiding the place you wanted them most.

You gasped again, barely managing to hold back a whine in protest.

"Please," you repeated, your voice a desperate plea, "Please, Boothill."

He chuckled against your skin again, enjoying the way your body responded to his every touch.

When he finally moved his lips to your center, his tongue lightly flicking against your sensitive bud, you gasped loudly, a shiver running down your spine.

His tongue started to explore your most sensitive parts, flicking and swirling gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your head fell back against the pillows, your eyes closing as you surrendered to the sensations he was creating.

His tongue's teasing touch against your center sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands tangled in his hair again, pulling slightly as he continued to explore you. "So beautiful and sweet," he murmured against your skin, the vibration of his voice adding to the sensations he was causing.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking and nibbling, driving you even further into frenzy.

Then, his fingers entered the equation, slowly slipping inside you while his mouth continued to work its magic.

Your body trembled, the combined sensations overwhelming your senses.

You were at his mercy, your body completely under his control, writhing and gasping under his expert ministrations.

His fingers moved inside you, curling and stroking, while his tongue continued to flick against your sensitive bud.

The sensations were quickly building toward a climax, your breath coming in quick gasps as you tried to hold back.

"Boothill.. I can't.. too much.." you managed to gasp out, your body arching off the bed.

He seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to elicit the most intense reactions from you.

You couldn't think straight, his touch sending you into a state of ecstasy that was almost overwhelming.

Your body was caught in a tempest of pleasure, every touch of his tongue and fingers driving you closer to the brink.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that made your breathing grow ragged.

It looked like he was licking and eating a candy.

Your fingers gripped in his hair, tugging slightly as the pleasure built within you.

"Oh god," you breathed, your voice a ragged gasp, "Please, I-"

Then, suddenly, he stopped, drawing back just as you were about to reach your climax.

You let out a gasp of frustration, your body aching for release.

"Not yet, darlin'," he murmured against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your inner thigh.

At the lack of his lips and tongue on your clitoris, you felt a slight breeze that made you shiver. Not to mention how you felt it pulsating.

His free hand gently massaged your hip, as if trying to reassure you.

Your body was taut like a bowstring, the sudden lack of stimulation leaving you feeling empty and needy.

He slid his fingers out of you, stretching them a little, watching as your juices covered them completely, almost spilling out.

He let out a light chuckle, before bringing his fingers to his mouth, drinking in your delicacy.

Your view, which was clouded with ecstasy, focusing on the scene of him sucking on his fingers, was completely provocative.

It was all too obvious that he was more than needy.

Your breathing grew ragged as you watched him suck on his fingers, your eyes wide.

The sight of him enjoying the taste of you was almost too much to bear.

"You taste so good, darlin'," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "I could do this all night."

When his eyes met yours, that's when you realised.

You had been so focused on your release that you hadn't realised how much he wanted this.

His face flushed, his lips moist.

Oh, he looked so damn needy.

He looked completely undone, like he was restraining himself from taking you right there on the spot.

He was tense, as if he was holding himself back.

Your skin thrumed under his hot gaze, and you could see the way his body reacted to the sight of you sprawled out before him.

It was the cutest thing to see him like that.

You rose slightly from the bed, pushing his chest back now, almost to where you were lying before.

You knew it was now your turn to make him feel good. More than he was.

As you gently pushed him back, reversing your positions, he let out a low growl, but he didn't protest.

He leaned against the wall, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

He looked absolutely wrecked.

His hair disheveled from your hands, his face flushed, his body thruming with need.

All that for you.

You straddled his hips, sitting on top of him and relishing the position of power you suddenly found yourself in.

Your hands roamed over his chest and bare torso, feeling the firm metal muscles. You could feel the heat radiating off him. His systems were beginning to overheat.

You leaned down, peppering kisses along his neck and jawline, enjoying the way he responded to your touch.

He leaned his head back against the wall, exposing more of his neck to your touch, a low, guttural groan escaping from his throat as your lips and tongue traced a path along his sensitive skin.

His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as you kissed along his neck and jaw.

He let out a low moan when you nibbled on his earlobe.

He was coming to terms with the new sensation of being underneath you.

He was used to taking charge in many situations, but something about letting you take the lead seemed different.

He liked it.

He needed it.

His moans and groans were music to your ears, showing you how much he was enjoying your touches.

His breath was becoming ragged, and his hands held onto your hips tightly, as if anchoring himself.

"Darlin'," he gasped out, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you.

Your hands began to wander lower, tracing the line of his abdomen and feeling the metal muscles twitch under your touch.

As your hands reached the waistband of his pants, you paused and looked up at him.

"Can I?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded eagerly, his eyes dark with desire.

He was more than willing to let you continue.

His eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, and his body was taut with tension.

"Yes," he managed to say, his voice thick with need, "Please."

You tugged on the waistband of his trousers, and he lifted his hips to help you pull them down.

He was begging you, and he didn't care.

As you slid them down his legs, you couldn't help but notice the evidence of his arousal straining against his boxers.

Oh, you forgot that could happen.

You remember that at his request, you made a modification to his robotic body.

Specifically a synthetic limb.

It was one of your best modifications as it was also connected to the nerves that you also gave him. Not to say that his blue blood would help bring it to life when he had to go into action.

You didn't really think you could test if it really worked.

Would you be the first to see if it worked properly? You didn't know.

You hadn't really thought much about it before. After all, it was just a standard modification that you had done. But now, as you saw the physical evidence of his arousal, you couldn't help but wonder if it would work as intended.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted when he groaned loudly, drawing your attention back to him.

You had started touching his length over his underwear without even realising it.

With just the touch of you, you were surprised to feel the slight warmth that came from it.

He inhaled sharply at the touch, his body tensing even more.

"Please," he repeated, his voice hoarse, "I need you. I need you so bad."

You smiled at their pleas, apparently it was a very good idea to amplify the sensitivity around the area.

He was already a mess, and you had barely touched him yet.

His gasps and moans filled the room, and his eyes were dark with desire.

You could see how badly he needed you, how much he wanted you.

He was begging you, pleading with you to touch him more.

You looked down at the noticeable bulge in his boxers and then back up at his face.

"You're so beautiful," you murmured, "So needy."

He let out another gasp, his body arching towards you as you continued to touch him through the fabric.

After a while of appreciating the good view you had, you pulled down his underwear, revealing his length.

His breath hitched as you pulled his underwear down, exposing him to your view.

He felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but he didn't care.

"Oh god," you blurted out at the sight of his limb.

At first glance you could tell it was working properly.

You were kind of proud of it.

He shuddered at your words, the sensation of your eyes on him enough to make his body shiver.

He was so sensitive, so receptive to your every touch, and it was all thanks to your modifications.

You moved down towards his arousal, cupping it with your hands and releasing light kisses that went from base to tip.

He let out a guttural moan as you kissed him, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through his body.

Your touch was light and teasing, driving him wild with need.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's so good," he gasped out, his body arching towards you as you continued to touch and tease him.

He was putty in your hands, completely at your mercy.

He had never felt this way before, completely surrendered to another person.

And he loved every second of it.

He looked down at you, his gaze full of desire and need.

Without waiting too long, you licked his tip, without taking your eyes off his face.

You were beginning to like the way he was moving beneath you.

He groaned loudly at the feeling of your tongue on his tip, his body arching slightly off the bed.

He couldn't believe the feelings you were invoking in him.

He felt like he was on fire.

He needed more your mouth, more of your touch, more of you.

He reached down, tangling his fingers in your hair, trying to hold himself.

To that, you smiled.

And, without further delay, you shoved as much of his length as you could into your mouth.

His entire body trembled as you took him into your mouth.

He could barely believe how good it felt, how good you felt.

"Oh god," he gasped out, his grip on your hair tightening.

He was completely lost in the sensations you were giving him, unable to think clearly.

He felt like he was on the brink of explosion, barely holding on.

Your mouth felt like heaven against him.

You continued, lowering and raising your head, while also moving your hands up and down his length.

You looked up at him from time to time, just to watch him come completely undone.

His face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth open and panting.

His breathing was ragged, and he was making little gasps and moans that sounded like a mixture of your name and incoherent praise.

He was a mess, and it was all your doing.

He was completely under your control, and he loved every second of it.

His breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps, and he was clinging onto you like a lifeline.

His body was trembling, his systems threatening to overheat.

"I'm close," he gasped out, his grip on your hair tightening even more.

He was teetering on the edge, completely at your mercy.

"Please," he panted, "Please don't stop."

You loved the way he was begging you, the way he was completely at your mercy.

You didn't stop, if anything you increased the pace, determined to push him over the edge.

His grip on you grew tighter as he got closer and closer to the brink.

"Oh, swetheart," he groaned, his voice thick with need, "I can't- I'm gonna-"

And, before I reached my limit, your movements stopped, ceasing to suck his length.

You laughed lightly, catching your breath for a moment as you watched him frown in frustration.

He stared at you, his body still shaking with need, his breathing ragged.

He looked completely wrecked, and he was not happy that you had stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" he gasped out, his voice full of frustration and need.

He was so close, so damn close.

He needed you.

But you just smiled at him, enjoying the way he was squirming beneath you.

You smiled as you stood up a little, stretching your back.

"Patience, sweetheart." You somewhat mockingly repeated his words he gave you moments before.

He groaned in frustration, his body still thrumming and begging for release.

He wanted you, he needed you desperately.

How could you be so cruel?

He watched as you stood there in front of him, your smirk making him even more frustrated.

"You're a tease," he grumbled, his voice rough with need.

You positioned yourself on his lap, without sitting down.

With one of your hands you cupped his cheek, as you placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"You were a good boy."

His breath hitched as you cupped his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, despite his frustration.

Your words made him shiver, the praise stirring something in him.

"I was," he murmured, his voice slightly pouty.

He was still needy, still on edge, but he loved the way you were handling him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close, as he nuzzled your neck, breathing in your scent.

"Can I have my reward now?" he murmured against your skin.

"Heh, of course you do." You said, as with one of your free hands you grabbed his length, positioning the tip at your entrance.

He gasped at the feel of your hand on him, and he held onto you tighter.

He was so sensitive, every touch sending sparks through his senses.

"You're so perfect…," he whispered, his breath hot on your skin.

As he felt you position him at your entrance, he felt a shiver of anticipation. He needed you, he needed to be inside you.

He was on the brink of losing his mind from desire and need.

"Please," he pleaded, "Please don't make me wait any longer."

You smiled, as you slowly tried to make his length spill inside you.

Which in itself was difficult and painful for you, as this was your first time.

He could feel how tight you were, and he felt a pang of desire mixed with guilt.

As you tried to take him in, he noticed your slight discomfort, and he immediately stopped you.

He looked up at you, concern in his gaze, and he gently lifted you off him.

"Sweetheart, are you alright? You're hurtin'," he asked, his voice filled with worry.

He was still needy and desperate, but he didn't want to hurt you.

He cupped your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin, as he watched you intently.

You tried to hide your discomfort, but he saw right through it.

His concern and tenderness made you feel warm all over.

"I'm fine," you said, trying to downplay the pain you were feeling.

"I just need a moment to adjust," you added, a slight tremble in your voice.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for any signs of discomfort.

He gently caressed your leg, his fingers tracing light circles on your skin.

"We can do it slowly, without pressure, my dear" he said, his voice gentle.

Your body relaxed at his words, grateful for his understanding and patience. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He took his time, gently guiding himself inside you once again, with great care.

He was still sensitive, craving your touch, but his main priority was ensuring that you were comfortable.

He slowly pushed himself in, his eyes locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort.

He could see the mixture of pain and pleasure on your face, the way you chewed your lips, trying to hide your discomfort.

He continued to move slowly and gently, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. You took deep breaths, trying to relax and get used to the feeling.

It was slow, and it hurt, but having him be attentive and considerate, made you feel safe.

As he gently slid further in, the pain began to subside, replaced by an unfamiliar but not unpleasant feeling. He stopped once he was fully inside you, pausing for a moment.

He leaned in, placing gentle kisses on your face, trying to soothe you.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice tender and worried, his gaze fixed on you.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and gave him a small nod to let him know it was ok to continue.

His gentle and patient manner was making your heart flutter, and the way he watched you with such care made you feel even more connected to him.

"Y'know, sweetheart? This is my first time too." He said, still not moving.

He tucked one of your hairs behind your ear. As he placed several kisses on your cheeks in an affectionate way.

You blinked in surprise at his words, not expecting that revelation.

You really thought he would have done this many times by now because of the way he behaved, you were wrong apparently.

The realization that this was his first time too, and that he was just as nervous and uncertain, added a new layer of intimacy to the moment.

You reached up, cupping his cheek, and gave him a gentle smile.

"I didn't know." you said, your voice soft, "You're being so kind and patient with me."

Then you reached up, running a hand through his hair, feeling its texture and smoothness between your fingers.

He nuzzled into your touch, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation.

He felt a little vulnerable admitting that it was his first time too, worried you might think less of him. But the way you smiled at him, the warm touch of your hand on his cheek, made any anxiety melt away.

He leaned into your touch, enjoying the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. It was soothing and grounding, helping to steady his racing thoughts and nerves.

He gently began to move again, slowly and carefully, still watchful of your reaction.

He watched as you ran your hands through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"Besides, I wanna make sure you're enjoying this just as much as I am." He whispered, his breath warm on your skin.

You shivered as he began to move again, the gentle friction sending small tremors through your body.

The way he was moving inside you was still a bit uncomfortable, but the pain was beginning to fade and be replaced by a different kind of sensation.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensations you were feeling. He was being so considerate, taking his time and making sure you were comfortable.

His words made you smile, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

"I am enjoying it," you replied, "more than I ever imagined it could be."

Your hand continued to run through his hair, and you pulled him closer, pressing your forehead against his.

His heart skipped a beat as you pulled him closer, a warmth spreading through his chest.

He was relieved and happy to hear that you were enjoying it. All he wanted was for you to feel good and safe with him.

He continued to move gently, trying to find a pace that was pleasurable for both of you.

He relished in the feeling of your hand in his hair, and he loved the way your body felt against his own.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "I could lose myself in you forever."

He leaned in, kissing your neck and collarbone. He opened his mouth to bite your neck, leaving a mark much more noticeable than the others he had left on your thighs.

The feeling of his mouth on your neck sent a shiver down your spine, and you let out a soft gasp as he bit down.

You could feel his teeth sinking into your skin, and you knew it would leave a mark, a reminder of this moment.

You tilted your head back, giving him more access to your neck, silently encouraging him.

The sensation was a mixture of pleasure and pain, but you didn't mind. It felt possessive.

Claiming. You wanted him to claim you, to make sure that everyone knew that you were his.

You arched your back, pressing closer against him, encouraging him to continue.

"Please," you murmured, your voice low and wanton. "Don't stop."

He was sensitive, and the feel of you around him was almost overbearing.

He felt your body arch against his, your voice low and pleading, and it made him shiver with desire.

He loved the way you reacted to his touch, the way you leaned into him and asked for more.

Hearing the words "Don't stop" spill from your lips was like music to his ears.

He continued his assault on your neck, his mouth moving to new spots, nibbling and biting and sucking, marking you as his own.

Instinctively he moved his hand to one of your breasts, pulling the tip and massaging it.

He began to move a little faster, a little deeper, his pleasure increasing. He groaned against your skin.

The feel of his hand on your breast sent ripples of pleasure through your body, your breath catching in your throat as he teased and played with your nipple.

The combination of his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast was almost overwhelming. You let out a soft moan, arching your back in response.

As he began to move faster and deeper, you felt a wave of sensations wash over you. The pain had faded, replaced by a pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced.

You could feel him beginning to lose himself.

Unconsciously, your hand moved down to your clit, touching yourself as you moved your hips slightly with his every movement.

That increased the pleasure you felt, making your inner walls clench at his length.

He looked down at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and awe.

He was lost in you, drowning in your scent, your touch, the way you moved against him, the sounds you made. He couldn't get enough of you.

As he watched you touch yourself, his breath caught in his throat. Seeing you give yourself pleasure while he was inside you was an image he was sure to never forget.

He groaned, unable to keep his own pleasure contained.

"You're so perfect, sweetheart," he gasped out, his words interrupted by his ragged breaths.

He kept moving, faster and deeper, his mouth never leaving your neck. Every gasp and moan that escaped your lips only spurred him on.

Every movement, every touch, every breath felt like a shock to your body.

You were lost in the sensations, your mind unable to form coherent thoughts.

"Please," you panted, "Please, I need you-"

You weren't sure how much more you could take, the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

The combination of his words, his touch, and his movements were making it hard for you to think straight.

Your mind was swirling with sensation, and you couldn't focus on anything but the feel of him inside you, and the pleasure he was bringing you.

One of your hands grabbed onto his hair, the other one still rubbing your clit. A constant stream of soft moans and gasps was falling from your lips.

He walked away from your neck, having left countless marks all over the area.

His face could not have been redder at that moment.

The sight of him with narrowed eyes, tilting his head back and mouth open, trying to formulate sentences and words that would not come out, being replaced with incoherent sounds.

It was simply a delight for you.

He tried to form a coherent sentence, but the words were escaping him. His mind was consumed with desire, his body on the brink of ecstasy.

You knew he was entering his climax, as his movements became somewhat erratic and slightly sloppy.

And, him doing so, hit your g-spot.

He was losing control, his body moving on its own, driven by pure animalistic need. He wanted to hold on, to make this moment last, but he knew he was reaching his limit.

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

He looked at you, trying to steady his breathing and speak. But all that came out were ragged gasps and incoherent sounds.

"I wanna-" he pleaded.

For that, your eyes were full of tears of pleasure.

You could feel him reaching his limit, the way his breathing was growing more labored and uneven.

The way he was trying to speak, but unable to form words, only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You were lost in the sensations, your body on fire. Each movement, each gasp from him was driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," he pleaded once again, his voice ragged and needy, "can I…?"

His words trailed off, but you knew what he was asking for. And you were more than willing to give it to him.

You could see the desperation in his eyes. He wanted, no - needed to release.

He was on the edge, and you were right there with him.

You could feel him getting close, his movements becoming more uncoordinated, his breaths coming in short gasps.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling.

You were so close yourself, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. You could feel it building deep inside, like a coil winding tighter and tighter.

He turned his lips to yours, both of you stifling your moans and groans.

He moved his lips against yours, his tongue tracing your lips, seeking entry into your mouth.

You parted your lips, allowing him in. The kiss was messy and needy, both of you clinging to each other in search of more contact.

He let out a low moan against your mouth. He tried to hold back, to draw out the moment a little longer, but he was too far gone.

He looked into your eyes, his gaze pleading.

"I'm gonna-" he gasped out, his voice strained.

But he couldn't finish the sentence. He was completely lost in the sensation, the pleasure almost overwhelming him.

He buried his face into your neck, his body shivering against yours, as he held on to you tightly.

"I'm gonna-" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel him on the edge, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He was close, and so were you.

"Me too," you breathed out, your voice trembling with need, "I'm so close. Please-"

You gripped onto him.

He moved his lips to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.

And so, giving a few more deep penetrations, he reached his release. At the same time as you, as he pressed hard on your sweet spot, he made you come without hesitation.

As the waves of pleasure washed over him, he shuddered against you.

He let out a guttural moan, his body tensing up, as he released himself deep inside you.

He held onto you tightly, as he rode out the waves of pleasure. His eyes were closed, his breathing labored.

He tried to speak, to form words, but the only sound that came out were unintelligible gasps and moans.

For a few moments, you both were lost in the intensity of the moment. All that could be heard was the sound of your erratic breaths.

He collapsed against you, his body trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his breaths ragged and heavy.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, as if afraid to let go. He buried his face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. You both laid there, your bodies tangled together, simply enjoying the afterglow.

His breathing slowly returned to normal, his body relaxed against yours.

He lifted his head from your neck, looking down at you.

"You're so amazing," he murmured, his voice husky.

He cupped your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. His eyes were soft and filled with tenderness.

"That was…" he trailed off, unable to find the words.

He let out a low chuckle.

"There are no words to describe how incredible that was."

You let out a shaky breath, a sated smile on your face.

You smiled weakly, still feeling a little boneless from the intense pleasure.

"Yeah," you agreed.

But you couldn't find the words either.

"Intense" was an understatement.

You turned your face into his hand, nuzzling into his palm, enjoying the feel of his cold skin against yours.

"I felt the same way," you replied, your voice soft and gentle.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. "Absolutely perfect."

He shifted slightly, pulling out of you with a soft groan.

He gently placed you on the bed as he leaned further back on the bed, no longer sitting up.

He pulled one of the blankets off the bed and placed it over his body, then took you in his arms, placing you on top of him, making it slightly more comfortable for you than just being pressed against his metal body.

He pressed you against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

For a few moments, you both lay there in silence, enjoying the closeness and the feel of each other's bodies.

His arms cradled you spectacularly, in an attempt to make your body try to unwind from the previous physical activity. Then he ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and soothing.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You lay on top of him, your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

His fingers were gentle as they threaded through your hair.

When he spoke, you could hear the concern in his voice.

You shook your head, lifting your face to look up at him.

"No, you didn't hurt me," you assured him. "You were perfect."

You shifted slightly, snuggling deeper against him.

"Now I'm just very tired.."

He chuckled softly, hearing you say that you were tired.

He continued running his fingers through your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your scalp.

"Exhausted, huh? I take that as a compliment."

He smiled, feeling a sense of pride that he had managed to tire you out so thoroughly.

He gently shifted under you, making himself more comfortable beneath you.

"You can sleep, sweetheart. I'll be right here."

He covered you with the blanket you were on top of, making sure you didn't get cold.

You melted into his touch, the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing and relaxing.

You let out a soft laugh, a little delirious from the lack of energy.

You snuggled against him, feeling more relaxed than ever before.

His touch was soothing, his fingers in your hair creating tingles on your scalp.

You let out a small sigh, feeling the exhaustion start to wash over you.

"Thanks," you murmured, your eyes drifting shut as you nuzzled against his chest.

He chuckled again as he felt you relax against him, your body sinking into his embrace.

He continued to lightly massage your scalp, knowing that it would help you fall asleep faster.

He felt your breath start to slow, your body growing heavier in his arms.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him.

"Sleep, sweetheart," he whispered.

Your eyes opened slowly, getting a little used to the light coming through the window.

Attempting to stretch out, you felt trapped.

You looked up, seeing Boothill lying there. His eyes were closed.

Perhaps he was recharging his battery, you looked down again.

As your eyes cleared, you saw your legs and torso almost uncovered, which caused you to wake up completely.

You felt an incredible heaviness throughout your body, as if every bone and joint ached.

Mentally recoiling in an attempt to remember why, your eyes opened wide.

You'd had sex with him, in someone else's house, out loud. Your face turned red, "what a shame," you thought.

You sighed, leaning your head back on his chest.

Oh, but before you could try to get any more sleep, your hand reached as far as it could to your trousers, which were at one end of the bed.

When you managed to reach them, you pulled out your phone, going straight into the chat with your roommate.

You deleted the incomplete message you didn't get to send yesterday, typed in a new one and then proceeded to send it.

It read; "I rode a cowboy".

The chat almost immediately began to fill up with messages, none of which you read, proceeding to toss your phone to the side, closing your eyes again.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

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jollyhunter · 3 months ago

Text

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings! MDNI, explicit sexual content (light), fluffy smut, but also cuddling and lots of teasing, Dean being needy and touchy and soft!dom

EDIT: Whoa!! I just woke up to 100+ likes and I am speechless! I never found the courage to post any of my stuff, until yesterday. Thank you all so so much - you have no idea how much this means to me, especially since I just joined tumblr and felt a bit intimidated and lost. You’re all amazing <3

Now enjoy! …already sorry for the damn tease kishishi 🦊

A/N: Heya! This is my first smut and fanfic post- woohzaa [throws glitter and anxiety across the post]. English isn't my native language but I tried to make up for it with spell-checking? Also, I'm sorry for the cliffhanger sweethearts! Let me know if you liked it <3

Word count: 1,700

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

The smell of musky sweat still hung in the thick air and the sheets around you looked like a strangled mess. So your sleep was deep, exhausted but also feeling all spent and fuzzy from the several rounds you and Dean had a couple of hours ago. Your breathing was serene, your nose nuzzled into Dean‘s arm which worked as a makeshift pillow. The other one was tightly wrapped around your waist, keeping you close, holding your back against his slowly moving chest, keeping you warm and save in his tight locked arms.

A sudden bump against your butt stirred you slightly, but you assumed Dean was just being restless again. His arm tightened around you when you pressed your body further into him in a reassuring gesture, your hand meanwhile untangling itself from the sheets to interlace your slender fingers with his calloused ones.

Then the broad shoulders that were glued to your back, suddenly shift. His breath against your neck coming in short little excited puffs. And his hips gently rock against your arse, slowly and almost testing. You grumble in response and give his hand a little warning squeeze. „You have to sleep, Dean…“ you remind him with a dozily slurred voice. He‘d have to get up in an hour or so, as he and Sam were going to investigate a case somewhere up in Nebraska. It would probably take at least a couple of days, and you already knew he’d miss you just as much as you’d miss him, because he was always especially needy and touch-deprived before he left the bunker for longer.

Another bump against your back. You curl up into a ball, not wanting to leave his comfortable warmth but still trying to get your point across without having to use your voice.

When you cuddled up against him like a kitten, Dean stilled his movements. And you left a soft exhale of something like relief, snuggling under his strong arm, loving the feeling of his shielding presence all around you.

But Dean was not done. And you curling up like a cat didn’t help either - if anything, it just made his hidden sly smirk widen. Just when you went back to dreamland, you felt something brush against your knee. Then your thighs. Dean snaked his leg over yours, trapping you against the mattress. „Dean…“ you grumble again, your eyes still shut and your face buried under his arm while you tried to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine. He doesn’t reply. Instead his foot slips between your knees and he now slowly pushes your legs apart, parking his thigh between them to keep them spread for him. He brushed his nose against your neck, taking in your sweet scent, his fingers slowly dancing down your body, tracing every curve like he knew them by heart. Another shiver went through your body and it became harder to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, the sleepiness somehow just accelerating your arousal. You wiggle under him when you suddenly feel his hot breath waft against your ear, „uh-uh-uh…“ His gravelly voice earns him a little shaky exhale from your parted lips while he quickly pins you further down.

Dean traced the rim of your pajamas pants with his fingers, teasingly slow while his other hand tightened its grip around yours, to keep you from slipping away. „Just lemme take care of you, baby…“ he murmured with his lips pressed against your ear, his head keeping you flush against the mattress. He wanted you to keep your eyes closed, stay sleepy, just relax and enjoy.

Not sure anymore whether you were dreaming or not, you found yourself nodding against his side, and that quite eagerly despite your half-asleep state. Satisfied with your answer, he slipped his fingers under the rim of your pants, taking his sweet time as his hand traveled down between your legs.

Just when his fingertip brushed against your clit, a loud knock at the door made you startle from your half-sleep-half-needy state.

„Dean? Come on man- we gotta go. Get your arse moving!“ Sam called out from the other side of the door, knocking again just to make sure he’d not ignore him.

Dean’s finger still idly circled your clit, torn between ignoring him or getting out of bed. After a moment he groans, his arms and legs still tightly in position around you, as he opens his mouth to bark back - but then is cut short by your lips on his cheek.

He turns back to look down at your curled up sleepy form, your cheeks flushed and goddamn you‘re already wet between your legs. „’tis okay” You reassure him, although you had to really force yourself to not sound frustrated and needy.

Dean grunted, knowing exactly that you were just trying to get him out of bed and out of trouble for being too late. But man he could have kicked his brother in the arse right about now.

He gave you a quick peck on the forehead and with a reluctant movement pulled his hand from your pants and untangled himself from your body. When he kicked his legs over the edge of the bed and got up, he suddenly turned around again, his eyes darkening and his lips curling into a sly smile.

“C’mere” he said gruffly, making it sound like an order. But you just looked up at him with bleary eyes, blinking in confusion as your mind was still half asleep. “On your knees.” He patted the spot in front of him with an air of authority.

You weren’t sure where this was going but were curious enough to play along. So you sat up, swaying a bit as you scooted closer to the edge on your knees. “Uh-uh,” you stopped and tilted your head in confusion, giving him that befuddled puppy look. He circled his index finger, gesturing for you to turn around. “On your hands and knees.” He said with that iconic deep and firm voice.

You swallowed, a little shiver running down your spine again. Without any protest you did as you were told and backed up against the edge of the bed again, this time facing away from him.

“Wanna get a look again.” He began, while his hands suddenly cupped your arse, squeezing them. „Wanna memorize what I’ll miss.“ You bit your lower lip, glad he couldn’t see your needy eyes right now. With a swift motion, his fingers hooked under the rim of your pants and he pulled them all the way down to your knees. The moment the air hit your bare skin, you were suddenly fully aware of how exposed you felt, unable to see what he was doing, where his eyes were going and what his next move would be. Without a word his hands immediately went back to your hips, slipping up to the back of your waist and pressing you down with a certain strength that made you follow each of his movements like a tamed horse. He ran one hand up between your shoulder blades and pushed down there as well until your tilted head and your chest were flush against the mattress, drawing a small whimper from your mouth. God how he loved seeing you comply like this, exposed, open and vulnerable to him, filling his heart with pride.

He kept one hand on your back to pin you down while his other went to tug at your lowered pants. “Jesus… you’re dripping, sweetheart.” He mutters almost in awe when you felt his eyes roaming your wetted thighs and pants. Suddenly he slides his hand back up along your spine until each of them grabs your hips. He angles them so your butt would point more up for him, pushing you even further into the bed, just the way he wanted you. Then out of nowhere his firm hands grab your arse cheeks and without a warning he pulled them apart, getting a real nice look on your slick folds. „I want to remember this view…“ He mutters, spreading your arse even more while you felt him bend down, his hot breath hitting the inside of your thighs, „Want to think of that beautiful pussy when I‘m alone…“

And then you suddenly feel the tip of his tongue flick against your clit, the unexpected sensation almost making you buckle while a shuddering moan slips your lips. Dean chuckles, relishing the effect he’s having on you. „Hold still, baby.“ He ordered while his one hand trailed over your hip and to the small of your back, holding you down, and his other started to rub your arse cheek, affectionately and proudly. „God… you’re so beautiful… Want to remember your taste…“ He continued before his tongue flicked across your folds this time, wetting his lips with your sweet juice, followed by a deep groan, "God you taste so fucking good...". He pulled the stroking hand back, and then brought it down again with a sharp swat to your arse. You yelped and your legs trembled, which made Dean grin proudly that he managed to surprise you with that move. „You a good girl until I‘m back?“

He didn’t wait for an answer but swats your arse again, this time definitely leaving a red mark he knew you wouldn’t mind. „You be good?“ He asks again, his voice taking that gravely tone which always made you squirm.

„Mhm,“ you mutter against the mattress, trying to hold still for him. „I‘ll be good.“

„That’s my girl.“ He patted your red arse cheek, his lips widening into that cheshire grin of his, „Now you get some rest.“

Before you could protest, he wiggled the soaked pants up your legs and over your hips again. You stifled a soft whine but knew it was no use, he‘d need to go now. Dean chuckled at the needy sound that slipped your perfect cute lips and it took all of his willpower to not just take you right there. He leaned over you to kiss you on the neck, his lips lingering there for a little longer than usual before he whispered in a low rumbling voice, „We‘ll continue right here when I‘m back, sweetheart... and 'till then... I‘ll always think of you.“

#dean #dean x reader #dean x you #dean reader insert #dean fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural smut #spn x reader #spn x you #reader x dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #soft dom! dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #dean winchester fic

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goosewriting · 5 months ago

Text

Falling for you - Part 2

summary: part 2 of falling for you, where reader falls into the rottmnt world and comes across the turtle brothers.

relationship: Rise Leo x gn!reader

warnings: none!

word count: 1.7k

A/N: did i totally forget about posting the second part to this? perhaps. did a recent comment remind me of it? could be. was i delighted to find a practically finished version of this in my wips, almost ready to post? absolutely. sorry for the wait, hope you like it!

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Climbing out of bed, Leo silently made his way to the projector room only to find an empty couch.

You were gone without a trace.

Or so he thought.

Turns out, you had gone to the kitchen to get something to drink. You were way too shaken up to sleep after what you pulled. The confession had all kinds of feelings and thoughts going through you, confusing you further.

Leo saw you as you came back into the projector room. You were startled at his presence, almost dropping your glass.

The words from earlier echo in your head: “You are loved. You are worthy. You are a good leader. You are a good brother. And if I am still here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next… I wish for nothing more than to be by your side.” That’s what you had told him. To the turtle, you were a complete stranger. Ugh, you thought, as you tried to will away the embarrassment from your face that was resulting in a weird blush.

“You’re awake,” you said after clearing your throat. Leo didn’t answer immediately, and a slight panic started settling in you.

“Yeah, I’m- I’m just…” he stumbled over his words. “I also came to get a drink.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked.

“Uh-huh…”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you two.

“I heard what you said earlier,” Leo started, and you let out something between a sigh and a snort. With a shaky breath, you approached the couch which was your bed for the night, sitting down.

This is what I get for being so worked up over blorbo feelings, you thought bitterly. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?!

“Can I…?” Leo asked as he stood by the couch.

“Yeah,” you said as you patted the spot next to you.

After he sat down, you just sit there in silence for a moment as you sipped your water, then set down the glass on the little side table.

“I’m guessing you want an explanation, huh,” you decided to start.

“Yeah, uh, what you said was very… specific,” he replied with narrowed eyes.

“Gosh, how do I explain it,” you said, more to yourself than him. “So, uhm…”

You closed your eyes to think of a feasible story, cutting out certain points here and there until you landed on something decent.

“Let’s put it like this,” you started explaining. “I come from a place far away, and I've known about you and your brothers for a long time.”

Leo thought it over for a moment.

“So you’re like, from the future?”

“Something like that, sure.”

“How did you end up here?” he asked after a moment. You sighed.

“To be completely honest, I don't even know. I don't know how to get back, or if I can get back at all. In fact, I don’t know if back in… in my world… if I’m gone there. If everyone I know thinks I just… disappeared. Or if at some point I’ll get back there, appearing in the same moment I left. It will be like nothing happened for the rest. Like at the end of the first Narnia movie, I guess.”

“The narn- what?” Leo questioned with a slight tilt of the head.

“Never mind,” you corrected yourself, and another silence took over. You cast your eyes down to the floor.

“I can’t tell you about certain events and such, but, I bet you have questions so, feel free to ask them,” you offered without looking at him. He thought it over.

“Well, you said–” A slight blush creeped up on his face. “–you said I am loved. And a good brother and leader. Where did that come from?”

You leaned back into the couch, draping your arm over your eyes and smiling at nothing in particular, if only the awkward situation you found yourself in.

“I know you think you’re the funny one of the bunch. Always cracking jokes. Which I think are actually funny, by the way,“ you replied, and your smile faded as you put your arm back down. “But I also know that sometimes you doubt yourself. And I just wanted you to know that… you're on the right track.”

Leo shifted slightly on the couch, and when you looked up, looking for his gaze, he looked away rather uncomfortably. You bit the inside of your cheeks.

“And look, I know this sucks. Some random person you almost ran over suddenly telling you all this. But I legitimately don’t know if I’ll just disappear one moment or the next, so I just wanted you to know.”

“Why though?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“Because I genuinely like you,” you replied without hesitation. Your genuine response caught him by surprise, and he straightened up slightly, but then a little grin spread on his face.

“So, if you’re from the future, it’s like you have a crush on a historical figure and now you’re meeting your hero, right?”

You chuckled.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it.”

His hand came to his chin and he thought something over.

“Maybe we just started on the wrong foot then.”

Folding one of his knees onto the couch so he could sit sideways, facing you, he stretched out his hand.

“Hey, I’m Leo.”

You smiled, taking his hand in yours for the second time that day, and told him your name.

“Delighted to finally meet you,” you added.

“Always happy to meet a fan,” he said with a wink, and you chuckled at his antics.

“If you don’t have any plans tomorrow,” he continued, almost shyly. “Maybe I could take you out for a spin? And show you around the city.”

“I’d love that,” you replied with a warm smile.

“It’s a date then,” he said as he stood up, but realising what he said, he stumbles over his words to try and save it. You raised your hands to calm him down.

“I’m not opposed to the idea,” you offered with a playful shrug.

“Right, well uh. Good night then.”

With that he turned on his heels and left for his bedroom, leaving you all sorts of confused and excited for tomorrow.

– – – – –

The next day, you opened your eyes, blinking a couple of times, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. Remembering the events of the day before, you sat up on the couch, looking around to find yourself still in the lair. You didn’t know if you were relieved or stressed about it.

What if you’d actually never make it back home? Was this your life now, spending the rest of your days in a fictional world?

Standing up with a stretch, you made your way to the kitchen to join the turtles for breakfast. Well, “breakfast”; it was actually already the afternoon. But they’re essentially nocturnal, so you’d have to get used to their circadian rhythm if you were to stay here. The other turtles greeted you normally, so you concluded that Leo hadn’t told them about your conversation. Good. The less they knew, the better.

After some food and light-hearted conversation, Leo took you out around the city as promised. The first thing you did was getting new clothes, then you went for some snacks and sightseeing. By the time you were done, you were both sitting on one of the taller buildings of New York, watching the last sun rays disappear behind the horizon.

Your legs dangled over the ledge, with your chin resting on your arms over the lowest bar of the railing, and you sighed. No matter how much you wanted to enjoy this outing and time spent with Leo the freaking teenage mutant ninja turtle, there was this one thought hovering over your head, like a fly trying to land on your food. No matter how much you kept swatting it away, it just kept coming back.

“What’s on your mind?” Leo asked after a while, already being able to read you like a book.

“I just can’t shake this feeling of… I don’t even know what to call it,” you replied with a sharp exhale. “Just the thought that any given moment, you might turn around, and then poof, I’m gone, you know? I don’t want to just leave like that.”

“I don’t want you to leave either…” he said in a low voice, and you turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Wait, really? You’re not… annoyed by me, barging in like this?”

“No, I mean–” he explained with a lopsided smile. “It’s definitely weird, but it's not a bad weird. It’s like someone finally gets me, really sees me.”

Tilting your head to the side, you leaned your cheek on your folded arms as you looked at him. The half moon markings on his face seemed to glow with the very last drops of sunlight, about to be engulfed by the night and replaced by the moon already peeking out from behind a veil of clouds. The loose straps of his bandana swayed in the breeze, and you were transfixed by this image.

“Yeah, I see you,” you breathed.

For a moment, there was a strange peace that washed over you, like a familiar soothing voice telling you that it’s going to be okay. Leo held your gaze just as transfixed as you, eyes soft, something unreadable reflecting in them.

The turtle was just about to say something when his phone rang. It took him a second to tear his eyes away from you, then he answered the call; it was Donnie, urging him to come back as there had been a break-in and they had to retrieve some sort of artifact.

Your heart quickened, immediately thinking of Hypno and… the worm guy – what was his name again? – stealing the key, and you straightened up.

“We gotta go.” Leo moved to stand up, but you held him down by his arm.

He gave you a quizzical look, and that was when you made up your mind: whatever timeline this was, with or without Casey, you’d make sure that the Krangpocalypse never happened.

You leaned in, placing a quick peck to Leo’s cheek, and his breath hitched.

“Hey, you got this,” you said with a reassuring smile.

He got up to his feet and helped you up as well, holding onto your hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Will you stay?,” he asked, uncharacteristically shy, blush evident, peeking from under his mask. “With me?”

You gave his hand a squeeze back.

“As long as this universe will allow it.”

– – – – –

A/N2: just to clarify, i know the worm is called warren stone, i just wanted to keep the running joke that no one notices him lol

= = = = =

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] i took the liberty of not only tagging those in the taglist for leo but also everyone in the comments of the first part. hope you’re still interested in this one! and if not, feel free to ignore the tag sdfasdfg

@theoriginalmintyyyshake, @dybynyght, @lieutenantlashfaz, @galaxtic-writings, @Lovestruckfictionadict, @salty-s-r, @sleebykei, @miso-sopas, @duckanon, @wings-of-sapphire, @ashtheboookworm2, @xxnoxx, @crystal-crax, @lunaramune, @luckynesser, @rowaaaaan || @mocchamck, @warrior-girl, @moroneur, @powerauerart, @soulaansugar, @xnorthstar3x, @leafyturtle, @justmare, @the-cute-witchy-writier

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt leo x reader #leonardo x reader #rise leo x reader

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ladylokianna · 2 months ago

Text

My favorite hello, my hardest goodbye

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (use of Y/N). Aegon is involved (in a good way).

Warnings: okay, what can i say... angst for first instance. The one shot contains mention of blood, trauma, child death, torture and violence. Please don't continue if that's uncomfortable for you, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Ok, i have to admit that the whole idea of this one-shot was totally different in the beginning: it started out angsty with the what if? in which Blood & Cheese kill Aemond's son and not Aegon's, and i had also sketched out something more angsty, but i left it out because i didn't want to make my beloved boy suffer more than he had to. So, that draft posted a few days ago following a request i developed it better and out came a tragicomic piece, with Aegon as a master of torture helping his sister–in–law vent against her son's murderer.

Ah, i'd like to specify one more thing: the relationship between the Targtower siblings is not based on the TV series, i prefer to think of them as any pair of brothers, sometimes quarrelsome, capable of teasing each other (raise your hand if you haven't teased your brother/sister at least once in your life, come on) but absolutely willing to have each other's back.

Word count: 2798.

English is not my first language, please be kind.

It always started like that, with your breathing slowly becoming shallow and scattered, with your hands moving quickly trying to grab –or stop– something. Aemond notices immediately, as soon as he hears your breathing change suddenly in the middle of the night: one minute you are sleeping relatively peacefully, the next you are breathing as if you were drowning. He knows that shortly afterwards will also come the shakes and screams, a witness that that night continues to haunt you.

"There is nothing at all you can do about?"

Orwyle shook his head, contrite: there was nothing that could soothe the mental pain as poppy milk did to the physical one.

It was not the same pain.

Aemond shifts more towards you, slipping an arm under your neck and one around your waist, drawing you to himself just in time, before you could gesture in your sleep, lest you hurt yourself, whimpering as if what you are dreaming about you were re-experiencing again, in that very moment.

"Y/N?" he whispers as you start to cry, leaving him undecided on what to do. You call out for him several times in your sleep, your voice increasingly full of anguish. "I'm here!"

He realises he has no idea what to do, whether to wake you up or to leave you to sleep, waiting for the nightmare to fade on its own: Orwyle has recommended that he should not force you to wake up, but at the same time he cannot watch you suffer without doing anything to help you.

You call out to him once more, frightened, and this time he sees you laying a hand on your heart, your breathing increasingly shaky, as if you were ranting.

The hell with it.

He sits up and takes you back into his arms, cradling you like he used to do with your son.

"Y/N, wake up. It's all right, i'm here!" he tells you. "I know you can hear me, wake up!"

You blurt out something he can't understand and open your eyes wide, glassy, almost lifeless. He grabs your shoulder, shouting your name and shaking you out of your sleep. You finally wake up after so many interminable seconds, with a gasp that reminds him of a person who has been underwater too long and resurfaces a few moments before the end: your eyes return awake and bright, your heartbeat almost regular.

His own, much less so.

"Aem?"

Full of relief, he strokes your head, letting go a sigh.

"Tell me."

"Blood, Aem. It's everywhere. I can't get it off of my hands." you say, with an hoarse voice.

Its metallic stench seeps into your nostrils, forcing you to hold your breath and turn to him, sinking your nose into his tunic: one more second of that smell and you throw up, you're sure.

He takes your hand in his and shows it to you.

"Nothing's there, look." he tells you. "Look at me: it's all gone, it was a nightmare."

You look around, discovering that you are not in your son's room, but in yours, patrolled day and night by guards. You are safe.

You hear Aemond respond to Ser Criston, ordering him something you cannot understand, as flashes of the nightmare that tortures you since that night return to your mind.

"Oh gods, again?"

"Yes, and i should have consulted the maesters much earlier, because it gets worse every time. I'm so afraid you would never wake up again."

The bandage on your arm is still in place, your nightgown is still pristine white and your hands are clean. You shove your face into Aemond's chest, sighing a plea.

"No more, Gods, please, no more."

"I'll send for Orwyle."

"No, please, i'm not going to chug another one of his nasty sleeping concoctions... and i don't want to be considered crazy."

"We are two grieving parents, no one would dare think that."

You sigh. Every court holds a nest of vipers, and yours is no exception.

"Not in our presence, Aem, that's for sure. But i can assure you they speak widely about us. People's tongues can be far sharper than their swords." you reply. "I'm doing everything i can to move on even though it may seem insensitive from me, but it's so hard."

"I would never think that." he replies.

"You wouldn't, but i hear the voices of the whole court behind my back, to them i am now the crazy, childless mother and..." and something you cannot repeat, not in front of Aemond.

"Who said that?"

"Some women, i don't really remember who, nevermind." you try to cut it short, aware that you already talked too much and especially aware of what Aemond might do if he found out who was responsible for those rumours.

"And they were women amongst noble women or the servants?"

"You can punish them, but, you will not stop those voices, you know how it is. I just have to wait for their quacking to move on to the next topic, until then i will resist. It's nothing, really."

He returns your embrace, but deep inside you know he is already thinking about what to do to flush out whoever started the rumours and you also know how damn difficult it is to change his mind if something directly affects you: once he has set his focus to something, nothing can stop him.

"I almost forgot to tell you that Helaena tried to distract me, she helped me with a new embroidery and showed me some insects i'd never seen before, you know? I love strolling with her and the twins in the gardens, but i have a strange feeling in my stomach since it happened, like i have a knot i can't untie. I feel like i'm burning up inside and i don't know what to do." you murmur. "And in all this i have to ask for your forgiveness: i haven't asked yet how are you doing, i'm selfish."

His breath quivers a little before he answers you.

"I live with the memory of that night: i should have been here instead of patrolling King's Landing with Vhagar. They wanted me, and they took our son. You want to know how i come to terms with what happened? I spend my mornings in the dungeons, executing the death-row prisoners... my sword has never seen so much blood since it was forged."

".... and does it work?"

"Not in the way i would like. When i plunge my sword into their flesh i imagine sinking it into Daemon's throat." explains. "Even if he deserves a far worse death for what he has done."

Aemond didn't tell you that he still see every little detail. The rough stitches around your son's neck, his corpse, his bed soaked in blood.

You stroke his cheek understandingly, like you do every time you hear him crying in the safe space of your bed.

"I miss our little boy."

"I know. I would like to have another child, i know i owe you one but i'm not ready yet."

"Listen, you owe me nothing. If more children will come, fine. I will not put pressure on you, i'm already happy to still have you here. Do you understand what i mean? Don't get me wrong, i loved our son, i really did, and i mourn him every day, but to me you're the most important person i have."

As he is for you. You smile lovingly, but suddenly your gaze changes.

"I want them dead. Both of them. They must suffer. I must see their blood spill onto the ground. Maybe then i will begin to find peace."

He looks at you a little, before clearing his throat.

"I'll help you get dressed." he explains. "I'll take you with me to the dungeons."

Aegon greets you with a wide smile, in his own reassuring way, amazed to find you there.

"Imagine the uproar if our mother found out."

"It's either this or me burning the whole realm to the ground."

"Dragonstone alone would be enough... imagine burning the whole castle down with those bastards inside them."

"Don't tempt me. You told me you would do anything to ease the anger i feel, and you're still doing it." Aemond says. "Now i ask you to do the same thing for Y/N. You know to whom i refer."

"I want those two." you murmur.

"Yes, there were two, but i already had one hanged." Aegon explains. "I had all the fucking rat-catchers hanged. But if you wish, i will give orders for their families to die as well: all i need is your yes, and within an hour i will bring you the heads of their children."

That offer goes straight to your brain, piercing it like a dart and insinuating a dangerous temptation. It is frightening how you even allow yourself to think about it, to indulge in the idea of inflicting the same pain on other women, like yourself wives, sisters, daughters, mothers. Probably the same women you saw during the funeral procession, the ones who threw flowers at your son, who wept as you passed by and cursed the name of Rhaenyra, women who were already living under difficult conditions. But then, you think back to all the blood spilled that night, the blood that had soaked your hands and your son's tunic, the blood that dripped down from the wound they had inflicted on your arm, in a vain and desperate attempt to save your child.

You think back to Aemond and his burning guilt, to the way he threw that little tunic into the fireplace, to the way he clutched your hand when he ordered Vhagar to light the funeral pyre, to his desperate weeping smothered against your shoulder after the funeral when, embraced in the comforting privacy of your rooms, you could no longer tell who was consoling whom.

You can't.

Considering how hard you struggled to change Aemond's mind, when, lost in the pain of both of you, he had been on the verge of burning down the whole town.

"And once we've set everyone on fire, what are we going to do, Aemond?"

You shake your head, and the answer that rose to your lips to Aegon's question was the same one you gave Aemond.

"No. Smallfolk of King's Landing are not to blame, and killing their children will not bring mine back." you look instinctively at Aemond, standing next to you, with the awareness that they would both only need a nod from you, and place your hand on his chest. "Responsibles must die, but there are women and men out there already struggling every single day to survive with their own problems without having to pay for ours as well. Don't do anything more against the poor people, Aegon, please. Aemond, i beg you."

He scrutinises you attentively, and cannot ignore your eyes glazed with tears.

"If that is what you wish, so be it." he replies in a whisper, rubbing your hand with his own. "I won't do anything you don't want."

"You are far too generous, my lady." Aegon finally sighs. He leads you out of the guards' cabin, towards an isolated cell where Aemond unsheathes his sword, and the prisoner winces, knowing full well what is about to happen: he has heard the screams of the other inmates, the sinister sound of that sword, and the precise and lethal manner in which the prince uses it. He knows that Aemond shows no mercy, and that that rage will now fall upon him.

"I don't want to suffer." he whimpers, looking at the blade: Aemond has a habit of twisting it in the throat of the unfortunate, he has heard so many choke like that, in their blood, with that blade buried in their flesh.

"He is not going to execute you." Aegon replies, smiling. "It all depends on her."

He remembers you well, he remembers your voice, your face transfigured by horror, he remembers that night as much as you do.

"Please..." he begs, and after this, you can smell the stingy smell of the urine that dampens his filthy trousers.

"Not yet, Aem. I might need it later." you say, declining his sword.

"Oh, fuck." Aemond mutters, catching a glimpse of the long wooden plank on which a varied array of tools, lined up in religious order, make an eerie display: he certainly didn't plan for something like this.

"You don't like it, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't like it too."

Aegon shows you a rack with a few weapons, some too heavy for you, while others useless for the purpose, carefully explaining what each was for and what damage they could inflict.

Aemond remains aloof, focused on you, ready to take you back to your shared rooms at the slightest sign of discomfort.

"Let's make it simple before someone here decides to use something on me. May i suggest this spiked mace? Simple yet effective, you'll see. Here, take it. Joints first: ankles, knees, elbows... and don't forget wrists. Then, the small bones like those of feet and hands. Though, be careful not to hit vital points first or you'll miss all the fun. When you'll have enough you can decide whether to finish him or letting Vhagar do it, okay? It's up to you." says Aegon.

"Vhagar doesn't eat shit." protests Aemond, looking at the prisoner.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea." observes Criston Cole in a barely audible whisper, watching you weigh the spiked mace in your hands, looking for the best grip on the handle. It's heavy, way more heavier than Aemond's sword.

"Keep your hands more apart on the handle or you will end up hurting yourself. Good, like this."

"Your Grace, you know she is so out of her she won't be able to kill him on the first blow, right?"

"Of course i do. That's the beauty of it: Vhagar will be a relief in comparison to her rage."

Your first blow hits the prisoner's left knee, smashing it with a loud grunt: his scream leaves you wanting to hit harder. Both Aemond and Aegon take a step back, letting you do what it pleases you without saying a word to stop you.

There's no turning back now. Not that you want it.

They look at you in silence for a few minutes in the disturbing atmosphere of the cell, a silence interrupted only by your grunts and the prisoner's screams, Aegon with a certain smile on his lips, Aemond with a look somewhere between worried and surprised, as if he found impossible that a woman like you, capable of compassion and love, the same woman who birthed your son and whom he watches playing with his nephews, could be the same fury that is mangling a man three times your size.

"You know Aemond, contrary to what you think, i also used to make a few trips to the library."

"In between wanking? Amazing."

Aegon ignored his teasing, focusing on another blow you're about to inflict on the prisoner's lower limbs.

"Hey hey hey... enough with the knees, honey, may i suggest you the shoulders, now? ...great, right there, that's it... see how the mace smashed the joint? Brilliant, isn't it? I may not have studied philosophy and history, brother, but you have no idea how many books banned by our Septon i have read. I'm sure that book about torture might interest you too."

"I'm not fond to torture, for too much can be counterproductive: once one gets used to pain, the whole thing became pointless. Hence i have to admit sometimes is quite useful."

"If this is her way of not going mad, let her. Let her vent."

A metallic clung interrupts them both: you have dropped the mace to the ground, exhausted, after inflicting one last blow. You look at what remains of the murderer's head with a soft "what the hell? " and wonder at what point in your murderous outburst he is dead, and how many blows you have inflicted on his corpse.

"Holy shit, Y/N." Aegon says looking at you almost covered in blood, like the stone floor and the wall behind the corpse strewn with human remains, blood and cerebral matter. "Oh wow. Look at it, it was awesome."

"Aem?"

"Yes darling?"

"I think i won't need the sword after all. Thank you, by the way." you say. "I'm done."

"Well sure, there's nothing more left to hit, sweetie. We're so proud of you." Aegon praise you, with glowing eyes. The dungeons are now more like a slaughterhouse than a prison, but you don't mind it. "Fine Aem, got it: never piss off your wife."

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sweetshuga · 3 months ago

Text

Exclusive ✧ CS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

Contains! Suggestive!, teeny tiny speck of angst, swearing, mentions of smoking!, sprinkled bit of fluff, a little bit of everything in a oneshot.

Word count. 1k

Notes. English is not my first language!

There’s always a voice in the back of your mind, telling you it’s okay to let loose sometimes, to do things you wouldn’t normally do. That voice seemed to win 80% of the time when you hung out with him. Chris Sturniolo, the good looking guy you met through a mutual friend. He was everything you weren’t—which made you gravitate towards him like a moth to a flame.

He never forced you to smoke or do anything you didn’t want to do, but you never turned down an invitation or a suggestion from him. Who knows, maybe you just wanted to be close to him; even you didn’t know why.

A few days ago, however, you had decided it was for the better for both of you if you stopped hanging out with him. You didn’t want him to think you were too eager or clingy, but you also didn’t want to turn down his invitation. Torn between what you wanted and what was right, you finally decided on the latter.

What had to be done had to be done and thus, a farewell type of text was sent to him, cliché.

𓆩♡𓆪

Days turned into weeks but no text from him except for the simple "k" he had replied with—to your heartfelt farewell. A frown etched on your face whenever you checked your messages, only to come face to face with the nonchalant reply every time; it made your heart sting to say the least.

"Of course, how stupid was I to think he would actually care for me enough to reply with at least a complete word," you whispered to yourself as you buried your face in your pillow, "so fucking stupid." The loud chime of your doorbell startled you into a sitting position, still in your pjs as you stood up and walked to the door.

You looked into the peephole and nearly gasped out loud. There he stood, dressed in a perfectly crisp white button up and black slacks, holding a bouquet of flowers, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

You quickly fixed your hair before opening the door, looking nonchalant to see him even though your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears, "what brings you here? I thought I said what I needed to say." You said coldly, dismissing the look in his eyes that looked almost vulnerable.

"Look, I know I’m not one of the greatest people out there, hell, I don’t think I’m deserving of being your friend..." He trailed off, nervously, his words getting stuck in his throat so the only thing he could do was extend his hand – that held the bouquet – to you. Pleading eyes searching yours, hoping you would take it.

Your gaze flickered down to the various beautiful flowers and leaves adorning the bouquet before it snapped back up to meet his. Your expression softened despite yourself, a sigh escaping you as you tentatively reached out and took the bouquet. "I uh... thank you for this," you said looking back down at the bouquet.

His shoulders relaxed as a shaky breath left his lips, even he didn’t notice he was holding his breath for your reply. A small grin spread across his lips, his body language more open now that you had accepted his gift. "Yeah... thought of you when I saw those flowers," he cursed internally at how cliché and cheesy his words sounded.

"Yeah?" You chuckled in amusement, "these are some really pretty flowers, you think I’m pretty?" You teased, the playful mood back between you both. "Pretty? You’re stunnin’ ma," he paused, "sorry, shouldn’t have called you that."

You frowned slightly, you loved when he used pet names on you, "no, it’s alright, you don’t have to apologise." You reassured, his eyes looked into yours, a glint of desire pooling in it, "yeah? Then I guess I don’t have to hold back on you huh ma?" He teased, though the tone of his voice had turned strained, as if he was holding back.

"You gonna stand there all day? Don’t wanna come inside?" His eyes lit up, "can I?" You laughed softly, "yeah, of course, c’mon." You pulled him inside and closed the door behind him. "So? Were you just gonna give me the flowers and leave? Or..." You trailed off, the innuendo clear in your tone.

Chris grinned, "oh yeah, that was my plan— not anymore though." You smiled as you placed the bouquet on the cabinet beside the front door, snaking your hands up his chest to his shoulders, letting it rest there. His breathing hitched as your hand trailed his collarbone through his button up.

"You look nice, all prim and proper, but still smelling like tobacco," you grinned widely, "did’ya get nervous? Is that why you smoked so much?" You asked even though the answer was obvious. "Don’t tease me ma, you know it," his grin reflecting yours despite his words.

"Does it smell bad?" He sniffed himself, causing you to let out a small laugh. "Mm, nope, you smell great, the smell of cigarettes mixed with the cologne you wear, it’s almost intoxicating," you admitted, his arms snaking down to wrap around your waist—pulling you flush against him.

He leaned down and nuzzled his face in the triangle of your neck, a low hum of contentment rumbling out of him. "Mhm... you’re intoxicating too... more than any drugs or addictions," he murmured against your skin before leaving soft kisses on it.

𓆩♡𓆪

You didn’t even know when your clothes had fallen on the floor, along with his. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he walked you backwards, not breaking the heated kiss you were sharing.

Your legs bumped back into the couch, making you sit on it. He gently laid you back, trailing his lips down your chin and along your jawline, leaving hot kisses until he reached your neck. His teeth grazed a sensitive spot causing your breath to hitch, he quickly took it as a sign and sucked and nibbled on it, leaving various hickeys.

His hands caressed your body like you were some sort of a Goddess to worship and love; to his eyes you were, his own little Goddess.

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 1,035

Isa's notes. I actually wrote something decently long? Who am I 🤨 Also, this Chris gave me major loverboy!chris vibes.

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

#chris sturniolo #loverboy!chris #soft!dom!chris #chris x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #fanfiction #chris sturniolo oneshot #christopher sturniolo oneshot #oneshot #smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut

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coffee-and-tea-time · 8 months ago

Note

Hey, I know the vote isn't done yet but I was wondering what our first interactions would be like with them all?

We can certainly arrange that!! Ask related to this post!

*Internally kicking his feet like a little girl seeing so many interactions with our post* ( • ᴗ • )

although maybe it’s a little short since we would rather leave more context for the actual posts - Tea

I read wrong a comment and thought they were requesting a shop owner when in truth they were talking about the seller, now the shop has an extra character *look into the abyss in poor reading comprehension*

In my defense, google said 'shopkeeper' was an equivalent to shop owner *disappointed of herself in non-native english speaker* but oh well, the more the merrier (ʃƪ＾3＾）～♡- coffee

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗᕕ( ᐕ )ᕗ ↔ ♪⁽⁽٩( ᐖ )۶⁾⁾ ₍₍٩( ᐛ )۶₎₎♪ ⬅ representation of the twins receiving incentives to post

Word count: 2k

tw: yandere behavior, nonhuman yanderes, human yanderes, delusional, RIP self-preservation, written in you/yours, willing reader

-`♡´- Dizie -`♡´-

You walk into your house, still submerged in your own thoughts as you walk through the door.

"Uh, maybe I should arrange something to welcome Dizie when he arrives? I hope I don't come off as awkward..."

But... Why is your place so dark?

You hear the door being slammed shut and as you attempt to turn towards it, a hand snakes over your mouth with a delicate yet firm touch as another coils around your waist from behind.

"You were worried about my first impression of you? That's… really cute"

The voice of a man purrs near your ear and then you feel his face gently nuzzling with the top of your head like an affectionate cat, a rather deadly one.

"I took the liberty of checking around your home, you know, to make sure everything is like it's supposed to be, to make sure nobody else is lurking around… I'm so glad that isn't the case, you're all mine to cherish… only mine"

You feel his nuzzling being replaced by a soft kiss on the top of your head, as the slender hand covering your mouth moves to gently hold your face while his thumb gently rubs your cheek.

[Clarification: Dizie is NOT stuck in his past or still in love with the last “darling” he was bought by. He doesn't see the reader as a replacement of any sort. We want to get that out of the way from the get go, he's just traumatized (as he probably should be ngl) - the twins]

-`♡´- Gabriel -`♡´-

Tossing your keys onto your couch cushion you let out a soft sigh, the walk back home was rather awkward, well, as awkward as can be with a man following behind like a lost puppy, his eyes practically piercing the back of your head. You wondered why he kept walking behind you but brushed the thought out quickly as you felt him let out a veery faint sigh of awe while glancing around your home.

“it smells just like you-”

The man whispered to himself, his words quiet yet the silence of you both being alone allowed you to hear him very clearly. flattering, but also a little unnerving.

How did he manage to smell you when he was walking like a meter away from you?

His hands fidgeted as you glanced back at him, his eyes landing on your form still basking in the sight like you were some sort of divine entity before him.

“This must be Gabriel then”

you thought, connecting your choice with the man that just randomly started following you which you didn't have the heart to scare away.

When the seller said he was a worshiper… he wasn't exaggerating.

Shakily, he reaches for one of your hands, clasping it tenderly with both his hands, completely engulfing yours with the warmth of his nervous fidgeting. His cheeks blaze red by the mere idea of touching your skin.

He leans down, pressing his forehead to the back of your hand, taking a shaky breath, then looking up to meet your gaze with pure adoration.

“I'm so incredibly thankful to be in your presence, darling. I'm so glad you chose me…”

(A person called him and Grier 'pathetic little mew mews' and now that lives rent free on my head; if you read this, I love your energy - coffee)

-`♡´- Oliver -`♡´-

This man is eager, that's for sure. There's no denying it as he practically drags you with him to his bakery as soon as your finger grazed his name on that paper.

You couldn't say a thing though, that wide smile on his face was just as sweet as the scent that wafted through the air as you entered the shop with the jingle of the welcome bell.

You were ordered to sit back and enjoy a cup of coffee with some butter cookies for the wait. He wanted to make something special, he said, quickly diving into the kitchen without saying another word.

You took a small bite of the cookie thinking perhaps there was something in it, but if you were his darling now then it shouldn't be anything harmful, should it? The cookie was… just any normal cookie, it was delicious even, buttery and crumbly, mixing perfectly with the rich flavor of the coffee.

Your mind drifted to the man’s appearance as he gave you constant glances, peeking from the kitchen a little too often, it was adorable in a way, like he was checking if you were still there. There was no need to check though, he had locked the entrance as soon as you walked in and you had totally noticed. You weren't going anywhere.

A few minutes later he peeked again, though this time with a tray in his hands, he approached and placed it in front of you, a delicious slice of cheesecake greeting you. He smiled proudly as he saw your mouth water and as you eyes scanned the delicious treat you couldn't help but notice the fresh cut on his finger already bandaged up yet still bleeding a bit through the gauze… how deep was the cut? The blood was so red it didn't look like a superficial wound.

“I'm just a bit nervous, Dear, i wanted to cut it perfectly for you… my hand must have slipped”

He reassured you, dismissing the severity of it but quickly hiding the cut from you. His sheepish smile though made you forget about it for a hot minute- how was this bulky man such a sweetheart?

Your fork soon dug into the creamy goodness of the cheesecake, the raspberry sauce that sat on top dripping a bit, its rich red color almost resembling that of his blood. What a passionate baker…

(...I love him, okay? -Tea)

-`♡´- singer -`♡´-

The door of the car is opened before you get the chance to even lift a finger and you are greeted by the angelic face of a man, worthy of praise and worship, smiling down at you and offering his hand as to help you get out of the car

"Hi~, welcome welcome, how are you feeling on such a joyful day as today? I hope that you are as thrilled as I am"

He says with a charming smile, holding your hand delicately for you to exit the car then guides you into his house, his eyes ogling you like a three course meal.

"Would you like something to drink? A water perhaps? I don't really have much sugary drinks since i take care of my vocal cords, but if that's what you'd like then I'll absolutely find a way to get it for you"

"Oh, I'm really fine, don't wor-"

His step falters before stopping dead in his tracks, his smile softening in… awe? He shuffles closer as your voice trails off by the sudden action.

"Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry to interrupt your words, I just couldn't help but get closer… you speak so softly, I'd wish to hear you more clearly"

He puts his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, though it quickly moves up to your neck, his thumb caressing your throat.

"You shouldn't overthink too much, your duty here is being happy with me, and when I'm not around, feel free to enjoy your free time as you wish; my only condition here is you take care of yourself and… to not look at anyone else in the eye for too long… but well, you should’ve already expected that, you signed for it, honey"

-`♡´- Myotis -`♡´-

You feel your heart on your throat as the butler opens the door for you, as you make your way inside, you feel like you walked straight into a historical movie of some sort, if the outside looked already out of a gothic fairytale, you can't find the words to describe how impressive the inside is.

"I'm glad you seem to like the place, Amore, that makes things easier for both of us. I hope you can forgive my eagerness to meet you"

You can't help but get surprised when you notice him right beside you, speaking to you dearly as he grabs your hand as if it was made of glass to softly kiss the back before giving you a smile.

"Fear not, you can always indulge yourself and wander around to enjoy the mansion, but I rather that the precious focus of your gaze be on me, I’d be delighted to spend as much time with you as possible, don't you think so?"

-`♡´- Lior -`♡´

You enter your home excited, wondering if you should get some fairy lights and stuff for the yandere you chose when a rustling in the distance disturbs your thoughts, grounding you back to reality.

You make your way in the direction of the noise and find yourself standing in front of your bedroom window where the poor moth boy flutters his wings trying to squeeze past the small gap, half of his body still hanging outside the window. This must be Lior.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb you, I just thought I would be able to fit in the open gap"

You truly can't help but giggle at the situation, okay, he is really cute for a yandere, the seller sure speaks the truth.

He grumbles uncomfortably, wiggling his way inside your home. His satchel almost falling out the window, but he manages to grab it mid air. Fast reflexes, that's a plus.

"I brought a present with me!"

He sighed out in relief while holding his satchel. With some effort due to his limited movement, he is quick to lift his bag and rummage through it, proudly lifting in the air a big cinnamon scented candle.

“Some light for my daylight! I-I thought you'd like it, though I'm not allowed to use candles… I always burn myself with the wax”

(he's my baby and i love him, thank you very much. -tea)

-`♡´- Tarak -`♡´

"Huh, what a gorgeous being…for a human… I will accept your proposal"

The dragon says in a low husky voice, gazing at you with a smirk, his hand gently lifting your chin so that your eyes meet his.

"You were the one that got chosen, not the other way around"

The seller quickly remarks, the humanoid dragon clicking his tongue in response.

“Same difference... the order of the factors does not alter the product after all, we are united either way”

Even if the humanoid acts roughly with the seller, Tarak gently puts your hand on his arm and holds it there as he walks outside of the store with you. What a gentleman.

"You are going to love the forest, of course, my cave is most enchanting, but I did in fact go out of my way and make a cabin next to it, everything is already taken cared of, I know not every species has the resilience to prosper in my environment, but, well, your ancestors used to live in caves... so maybe you can manage"

“Is my home not an option from the beginning?”

You say a little nervous, not sure if you can actually survive in a forest without being eaten alive by the wildlife, although you must admit that is kind of a silly thought if you think of the power of a dragon like him.

He looked like he was about to protest your request, but just your scent in the air was all he needed to sense your feelings and give you a look as he relaxed his shoulder in defeat.

"... alright, I'll indulge you, we have a lot of time in our hands to adjust to the changes around us anyways, I'll stay at your home until you are comfortable enough to come to mine, I will make sure to adorn it in any way you please for when that time comes"

He gently messes with your hair as a way to reassure you before he resumes walking, following you to your home.

-`♡´- Grier -`♡´

The seller goes down the wooden ladder after taking the tape off the camera lense and signs for you to come closer to it.

"The cameras here don't have sound but showing you to him should be enough of a clue all by itself"

You freeze as the security camera focuses on you, standing there, you wave awkwardly and the camera starts moving side to side abruptly before freezing, like the person behind it moved away from it.

"Well, either he fainted or he is coming right away!"

The seller says in a cheerful voice as he goes to cover the camera lense again with a strip of tape. A couple of minutes pass before you hear the screeching stop of a car parking in front of the shop hurriedly, soon followed by a panting man who barges inside like his life depended on it.

“I’m here! I'm here!!”

He says almost tripping on his own feet as he shoves in your face a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Oh, those are my favorites! Thank you"

"I-I know, don't worry, I made sure to do a quick background check on your medical history so I don't trigger any allergies, I promise I will gather more information tonight! Don't worry"

-`♡´- The seller -`♡´

"I already told you, I'm not a yandere"

"How did you know I don't go out?"

"You're practically chronically online! It's just a lucky guess"

"My screen time is something even weirder for you to know!"

"..."

"... don't tell management"

[Clarification: yes, the seller’s is shorter, that's because as far as we can tell, he's most likely to win first place in the survey so we are saving up most of his character and interactions for his main post (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ - the twins]

-`♡´- …owner? -`♡´

…???

"Oh, that's an interesting turn of events, so many options yet the button you press is not even part of the survey..? How experimental”

The owner let out a rich laugh as he spoke his usual nonsense to catch your attention through the speakers of the shop.

"Ah yes, 'nonsense'. What a disappointing excuse.."

The owner argued with himself under his breath before he sights.

"Want something to drink?"

*Ejem* little clarification (it's the third one now in this post, get a grip. - tea to himself), characters that aren't in this survey have already been requested in asks or comments or, well, won the first survey. we haven't forgotten about them, we are already working on their posts 💚 - tea

Don't forget! If you like something specific, you can ask freely! As I said before, we love interactions! (Attentions seekers? More like validation seekers lol) - coffee

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

Divider by tea ✌️ (i know I'm amazing/j)

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sleepy055 · 1 month ago

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Shanks x fem!reader x Buggy ( Platonic Roger pirates x reader ) headcanon

Context : FEM!READER with healing ability No skin color ( no blushing etc... ) Reader is around the same height and age as Shanks and Buggy Mention of Rayleigh taking care of Y/n hair English is not first language Just some headcanon that I had in my head about how would life be on the Oro Jackson as a young girl treated like a princess ( for a different context you can always ask )

As being a young girl part of a pirate crew, everyone took good care of you. Even grumpy and meanie Crocus was nice to you. You were always put aside during the fight, they gave you the best food and White beard would even have a gift for you, even Big Mom tried to get you when she crossed path with Roger.

Rayleigh was your caretaker as this man is 100% girly dad material considering his relationship with Shaky and how close he is with the Amazon Lily women and girl (You probably became a sister figure to Boa and her sister later on)

Rayleigh would take care of your hair giving you cute haircut washing it with the best shampoo, he took care of your wardrobe and training as he wanted you to be able to defend yourself, if you wish to become a swordsman you will have to prove him your worth (you probably were able to make him lost his guard for a moment that impressed hi)

You hanged out a lot with Roger, he would also bring you into his shenanigans escaping from a group of lions while he laughed running really fast holding you in his arm. Help you prank Shanks and Buggy as vengeance for their own prank. Will come to bed and tell you a bedtime story of his legendary adventure as a rookie pirate, like his meeting with Brook. (He probably would have wished to do the same with his son :c)

Gaban would teach you tips and tricks of being in the life of a pirate. Being a big bro give you brotherly advice, he is always honest, telling you if he worried or mad at you for something.

Crocus is a strict serious man, but he has a soft side for you, he would teach a lot about medical knowledge to help your healing power. You serve him as an assistant helping him a lot in his work charge, he gives you rewards like candies or booze for your hard work. He surprisingly never speaks harshly to you.

Oden, when he met the crew he was curious as to why a young girly would be here, then you managed to help the people that were cut by Rayleigh sword during the Roger vs Withebeard fight. He was curious about your ability, asking you a question.

The people of the ship would bring you gift, cute dress, gift linked to your hobbies like book music instrumental or art furniture anything really that will make you smile

Withebeard would be so nice and sweat you always smiling and laughing for you and giving food even gift you sit with you to eat and even gifted you an accessories (will even laugh about adopting you which did not make Rayleigh laugh)

You get free hugs from Inuarashi and Nekomamushi !

Shanks x Reader x Buggy

Oh these two, the chaos. They would make you part of their shenanigans pulling prank on the other crewmate you will always be the one with the least consquence wich would make them jealous

They would also bring you to their fight," Y/n tell him I'm right ! "" Stop lying Y/n you know I'm telling the truth" when you usually did not even know what they were talking about.

Would try so hard to impress you protecting during fight or do a thing for you which you could use at your own advantage, making the crew laugh while they fight for who will cut the most fruit for you.

Whenever they talked about their future they wanted to make a crew with you and get many treasures but deep down they knew it was kinda more complicated than that for you as they knew that the adult of the ship made everything in their power to protect you from a life of a pirate.

You would go adventure with them trying to solve mysteries, steal from bandits, run away from monsters, you would heal a lot of their injuries and every time you would be the one injured they would lock in to take you out of danger and take care of you bringing you tot the other crying and worried about you.

They have an engraved memories of you in their head, the three of you lying on the beach looking the stars in the sky the wave of the sea it was such a moment of peace. Shanks x reader focused

He always tries to be flirting with you (at least he tries to copy Rayleigh charisma) would offer his hand when you leave the ship. Open doors for you, pose in front of you.

Decently put his straw hat on your head when you were looking at the horizon, saying you looked pretty wearing it.

The crew would notice and ship you so hard (especially Marco during Roger Withebeard fight) watching you sit next to Shanks smiling over two kids being cute.

The day Roger find you kissing Shanks (at age 13) he would be so shook and laugh happily that will interrupt the kiss, he would even harder while Shanks hold you while he blush. Buggy x reader focused

If you complimented him on his intelligence or his strength he will be over the mood, his ego being boosted (he deserves it)

One day when he did not wear his hat you told him he had beautiful hair would change him, he will start to show it a little bit more once adult then have longer hair as an emperor later on.

Will always be a big tsundere with you calling you an idiot, but you know damn he doesn't mean that as he blush.

He will sleep putting his head on your shoulder and will run away once waking up, realizing.

When he kissed you and Roger caught both laughing happy for the both of you, he screamed embarrassed which brought the other who were surprised by the scene.

(I know it wasn't great, but it was a first try =~=)

#shanks x reader #buggy x reader #one piece x reader #Roger Pirates x reader

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sanemistar · 5 months ago

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hiii!! i would like to request an obanai x fem reader fic where they're forbidden to speak to each other by their families but they do it anyways and meet up without them knowing :333

sorry if it's not worded correctly english is not my main language!

thank you in advance!! and i love your stuff <333

being in a secret relationship with obanai

synopsis: obanai x fem!reader, they’re in a secret relationship

୨୧ a/n: hello lovely !! thank you so much for your kind words <33 much appreciated ! i wrote this as a short drabble, i hope you don’t mind,, and pls enjoy <3 also happy birthday obanai <33

it's been a year now since you and your boyfriend obanai were in a relationship secretly without your your families’ knowledge. due to the many complications between your and obanai’s family, you two are forbidden to contact each other. however, this has never stopped your feelings from blossoming into a love relationship.

the two of you often meet up in secret late at night, since you can’t see each other throughout the day. you meet in a secret spot down the forest which you consider your safe haven, where you can be free from any pressure and enjoy some quality time with obanai in peace.

you love obanai, and he loves you too. the two of you are so in love with each other, yet you still can’t help but feel scared and afraid of your family’s reaction if they find out.

“i’m so scared, obanai. what if my family tries to harm you once they find out about our relationship?” you say nervously. obanai fully understands where you’re coming from, the situation is very shaky and you both still decided to move forward with your relationship knowing that you’re probably putting one another in danger. but he’s fully prepared himself to face both your family and his if he needs to.

“for you, i’ll do anything. i’ll endure everything, so don’t worry and leave it all to me.” he reassures you before he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead. you smile at him as you slowly begin to feel more at ease, you rest assured knowing that he’s not giving up on you. that he’s prepared to face whatever obstacles on the way to stay with you, and it fills your heart with comfort, knowing that you can fully trust your boyfriend to take care of everything.

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blueberrypancakesworld · 8 months ago

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Omg, we need a emma d'arcy x fem reader! Pleaseee!!!

Let me help you here

Emma D'arcy x fem!reader

warning : fluff, flirting, comfort, nicknames, no use of Y/n, i really hope emma is not too ooc, i hope all pronouns are right

Summary : The latest season of House of the Dragon is about to start and final filming is underway. Emma as the Queen Rhaenyra finds themself in a quiet scene with a fellow actor and the two need some help from each other getting dressed…professionally of course.

info : normally i don't write for actors but i feel comfortable with it so i hope you like it anon and emma looks like the queen herself too. have fun reading ;)

ps : I love the gif not only a queen but Ewan in the background so sweet

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The acting group needed for the scene had already gathered at the slightly unfinished set. The lights over there were sometimes bright, sometimes dark, with a wide variety of flares and lanterns, some lit with real flames, of course, and some with no real light.

The sets, as you all knew, served mainly as backgrounds for the actors and for the special effects specialists as the big screen which, in addition to the scenery and the actors and props, brought them all to life, giving them that fantasy look.

The large set the hall of Dragonstone went almost to the ceiling thick walls some with steel thickness some finely crafted with foam served as a set. It was really impressive to see how they did it all thought the young actress and let her gaze wander only briefly knowing that the camera was still on her co-worker Matt who was discussing the war plans as Daemon as he had learned.

Especially in the final edit when they had all watched the greasy series together, it was really nice to be back. The camera on the table moved around it again from Matt to her as Daemon looked at the Nachirhct's delivery. ,,Be assured the sea route is supported by Lord Manderly. This also goes out to your ships Lord Corlys your safety is our concern" she said her sentence as scripted letting her eyes wander over the sea route and nodded to Matt and Steve in their roles as Daemond and Corlys who also gave her a nod and thanks before the camera panned back.

It was a few lines she had played a newsbringer a high lady from the lake house as she had done a little research on the internet and even read a little blood and fire. A really good book.

But then she knew her cue when it became quiet at the table and the guards could be heard announcing in loud voices on the set that a queen was arriving. Instead of the short hair, Emma's head was adorned with a long, light-colored wig, which made their face slightly pale, but the expression Simply incredible she thought and looked at the older one who Matt then placed next to her around the table.

There was silence as everyone looked at the Queen, who looked at the card with a broken look of hatred and after another shaky breath gave a determined ,,I will…Aemond Targaryen" everyone lingered like that for a moment before there was a loud ,,Cut!" and a clap was heard and everyone fell out of their roles. Immediately there was talk and laughter, and everyone was curious to see what the scene would look like, ,,What a cute curtsy my lady," she heard Emma say as they came over to her and mimicked the movement, making them both smile.

,,So much training," the younger one mumbled, pretending to strain before D'arcy took the younger one's arm and pulled her along, ,,Nice to see you having fun and everyone going so well," the taller one began, giving her an assuring look.

It was only a small role and she had been in a few smaller TV series here and there, but it was still something completely different, it was really exciting to be around movie legends and such good actors.

A possibility she really appreciated…and maybe she appreciated Emma even more. The English actor was really impressive, even though they only played a few roles, but the expression, the voice and just everything about D'arcy was engaging and so captivating.

,,Everyone take a break, later we might do a post-production but until then you can get out of your costumes!" they heard the head of the costume department say and most of the actors went straight to the dressing rooms and Emma to the caravans.

This time, however, the younger one, who was only a supporting role, was about to say goodbye when the older one took her hand again and pulled her along. ,,I promised you I'd have a Negroni Sbagliato with you, come on, sweetie," they said and before she knew it they were actually in the actor's cozy caravan. Yes, they had made that promise after they realized on the first day they had met that they had not only gone back to the same acting school but had also run into each other more often than they wanted to.

From auditions, to plays and in real life it was almost romance ripe. ,,So with Orange without?" they asked, still standing at the small bar in their full outfits, which made the younger ones smile, ,,As the Queen takes him, so do I," she demanded with a look that went over the actor's body. The dress and the coat and the hair it was so impressive to see how versatile Emma could be.

But she had noticed the younger girl's stare, not just the little smirk on her lips, but when she turned to her and put the drink in her hand, their fingers deliberately touched and Emma let them touch. There seemed to be something between the two of them.

She had often invited Emma to her small but pleasant apartment and they had spent the evenings doing all sorts of things. In return, Emma sometimes invited her to extraordinary restaurants or something, it was like a friendship, even if some of the looks went deeper.

The two of them talked for a while about the costumes and the stunts with the "dragons", how exhausting and yet beautiful it was. She had watched D'acry do some of the flying toes and it looked incredible. ,,I'm glad to see you're enjoying it so much…you see I knew it would do you good not to give up now that we're here together," Emma winked and stood up after taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage before turning around and standing with their back to the younger one.

,,I can get the wig off by myself, but would you mind taking off the dress?" the actor asked and the younger girl jumped at the sight of a slightly rapid heartbeat, slightly sweaty palms and suddenly the alcohol was pounding much harder than usual. ,,Gladly for you-I mean, of course I'll help," she mumbled, stammering, and slowly began to help the taller girl out of her jacket, the smell of Chinoto Dark's citrusy, smoky scent enveloping her now that it had settled on her skin.

She liked the scent strong and yet slightly sweet because of the hint of lemon it was really something nice. ,,All good sweetie?" came the voice of the older one who turned slightly and looked at the younger one who was still holding the jacket in her hand ,,Yes-yes all good" she shrugged and felt the warmth on her cheeks.

Pull yourself together, you're not a schoolgirl anymore, she admonished herself and put the coat away before tying the dress, but she heard the slight smirk and Emma's words, ,,Don't be nervous, you're just undressing the queen," Emma joked, giving her a wink. A wink that only made the younger girl's heart beat faster.

Maybe it was Emma's intention, maybe it was the actor's style, or maybe it was just for fun. Who knew, but as her fingers tightened on the laces, the taller actress held still and let her friend do her thing, stepping out of the dress before reaching for a robe.

The back was nicely defined by the light muscles, not just for acting, the underwear a quick glance and her cheeks almost got hotter. ,,You were a grateful help, sweetie," Emma said, standing in front of the younger girl, they towered over her with their height in addition to the boots.

Her wispy dark blonde hair was slightly tousled and she had to resist tousling it and greenish eyes were looking at her. But then suddenly D'acry reached for her hand and brought it to her lips, placed a grateful kiss on it and seemed about to continue. The moment deepened and the younger girl clung to the fabric of the robe, fearful of falling over in devotion, when a ringing from her cell phone threw her off balance.

,,Fuck," she muttered with a determined look and Emma just smiled again. She picked it up, ,,I'm um what-yes of course-yes I'm on my way," she mumbled as the voice of the debriefing leader at the other end called for her to go over the script again when a few changes were made.

Sighing, she gathered her things and had forgotten all about the actor when Emma held her lightly again, ,,I'll wait here honey," Emma winked and gave one last kiss on the hand before she let the younger actor out of the caravan with an embarrassed look, knowing that something was finally going to happen, just a dance of the actors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#hotd #house of the dragon #emma d'arcy #emma d'arcy x reader #reader is female #hotd fic #request answered

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sansaorgana · 10 months ago

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I had an idea earlier about buck x reader, where after buck and the other 2 escaped and left bucky behind in part 9, they stumble upon a house near the forest (after the german kid soliders attacked them).

The reader lives there and she basically helps them hiding for a bit and also returning to the english base. She is against the war (which is the reason she helps them) and maybe a little angst where buck needs to protect her at the base bc she is still a german citizen.

What do you think?

hi! thank you for your request! 💞 honestly, I think it's the first 100% angst piece I have written for Buck because even the ones with sad events that I have posted so far had happy endings... but not this one 😅 since I have already written a similar fic and didn't want to repeat the same ending... I couldn't think of anything else how they could have their happily ever after 😪 I hope you can forgive me 💔

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

In the heart of the enemy’s territory, he felt like a chased wild animal. Even though he was still human enough not to pull a trigger at a brainwashed German kid, Buck Cleven felt like a prey with nothing but survival on his mind. The forest was dark, muddy and unfriendly. A never ending maze with predators hiding all around. A thought of his dead friend and a thought of Bucky left behind were what kept him sane. The sun was going down slowly and he had no idea where to go. His other friend, Bill, was right behind him.

“Buck,” he hissed and waved his hand to make them both freeze in place. “There’s a house,” he pointed at the dark and old building by the country road behind the trees. “We’re close to town.”

“The lights are off. Maybe it’s inhabited,” Buck pointed out. “If it’s the case, we can find some supplies there.”

“Shall I go and check?” Bill asked.

“No, I will go,” Buck nodded and clutched on the gun in his hand hidden under the coat.

He walked carefully and slowly, making sure not to make too much noise, with his back hunched and breath steady. His blue eyes scanned the garden behind the house. It had herbs growing there but it was messy and the windows were dirty. Everything looked as if it was abandoned.

Encouraged by the looks of it, Buck walked to the front of the house and tried to push the door open but they were locked. However, the door was wooden and old, all it took was another, stronger push to open them wide with a loud squeak that made him wince.

He waited for a while to make sure there were no footsteps approaching him but when he heard nothing but silence, he entered the house and walked around curiously as the last rays of the sun going down lit the walls and the pictures hung on them. There were mostly family portraits and religious images – everything cosy and very cottage-like. There was only one portrait of a young soldier in a Wehrmacht uniform but his face was so friendly and sad that Buck didn’t even feel any hatred looking at it.

Focused on the picture, he lost his focus for a while. And then he heard a small noise and turned around with widened eyes as he spotted a young, scared woman in the corner of the room. She had a gun, too. Her hands were shaking and her pupils were huge out of fear but she was pointing the gun at him. He didn’t know if he should raise his hands and give up or point the gun at her in return – it was very doubtful she would actually pull the trigger.

He trusted no one. When he took a small step ahead to test her, she startled but she didn’t unload the pistol. So he pointed his own weapon at her and in that moment she dropped her gun and lifted her hands up while sobbing.

“P-Please, no,” she pleaded in English. “Please, don’t kill me,” her whispers were broken and shaky and Buck felt bad for her. Did she live in that house?

“Do you live here alone?” He asked, trying not to sound too nice. She nodded. “How so?”

“I lived here with my brother and my papa,” she explained and pointed her finger at the portrait on the wall carefully. “They took my brother away. In the beginning of the war. He didn’t come back. My papa, he was old now. But they took him too a few weeks ago. Because they need more men,” she was looking for the right words with her limited vocabulary.

“How do you know English?” Buck raised an eyebrow at her.

“Papa taught us. He was a soldier in the last war. He met the English and the Americans. He was a captive,” she explained and sniffled her tears. “Please, don’t kill me,” she begged once more and Buck felt stupid for still pointing his gun at her. He lowered his hand and she sighed out of relief.

“Do you need help?” He asked. Something about her and the state of this house made him forget about his own tragic situation at the moment. She was a young woman left alone in the middle of nowhere in a country that was on the verge of losing the war. It was not safe for her and she looked weakened as if she had not had any proper meal in a long while.

“Do you?” She asked.

“Me and my friend… He’s inside the forest… We ran away from the camp, too. We are American pilots. We need to get to the American soldiers. Do you know where we can find them?” Buck asked.

“They are in town,” the girl nodded. “I can take you to them tomorrow,” she offered.

“Why not now?”

“Because it’s dark already. And you need rest,” she pointed out. Buck squinted his eyes at her. “I don’t have a phone here. And German police are not here anymore. You are safe,” she assured him. “Tell your friend to come here,” the girl crouched down and picked up her gun again. Buck clutched on his but she hid hers into the pocket of her patched dress. “It’s not loaded,” she revealed to him with a sad smile. “I lost all my bullets two weeks ago when a few strange men came here and I had to scare them off.”

Buck nodded and slowly walked out of the house. He still was not sure if she was trustworthy but he craved nothing but rest. He came back for Bill and told him about the situation they had found themselves in.

“I’m not sure, Buck,” he shook his head. “Listen, what if I go there and scare her, steal some food and we run to that town on our own?” He proposed.

Buck understood where his friend was coming from. And he did not judge him. However, he did not agree to his plan.

“No,” he only said. “It’s just a girl.”

“They’re all just girls and boys. Like the kids back there in the forest,” Bill reminded him.

“I know. But she’s not like them.”

“How do you know that?” Bill requested an explanation.

“I just know,” was all Buck could say as he nodded at his friend to follow him.

Reluctantly, Bill went to the house after Buck. The girl was sitting by the round kitchen table and lighting a few candles. She looked up, giving them a doe-eyed look.

“I don’t have electricity here anymore,” she confessed. “But the candles are fine,” she added. “Here, I collected some of my brother’s and papa’s clothes for you to change. When I take you to town tomorrow, I don’t want anyone to know who you are. In the forest… There are a lot of people you can’t trust,” she explained.

“And you?” Bill asked, still not convinced. “Why can we trust you?”

“You have to,” she looked at him and then she turned around to point at the kitchen cabinet. “I don’t have much food left. And the fridge doesn’t work without electricity. I have some cans and a few wild berries I picked in the forest. Some cheese they gave me in town out of mercy.”

“We don’t want to eat your food,” Buck assured her. “Only a little bit.”

“I’m hungry,” Bill added and Buck shot him an unpleasant glance.

“So is she. And the food is hers. She doesn’t have to help us, you know?”

Bill went silent and took a pile of clothes to the living room where he began to change. Buck was left alone with the girl in the kitchen. She was looking down nervously, focusing on his hands to avoid his eyes.

“And what is your name?” He asked her out of courtesy.

“It’s (Y/N),” she whispered. “And yours?”

“I’m Major Gale Cleven,” he reached his hand out and she hesitantly shook it. She also dared to look up and meet his gaze. Buck felt his heart skipping a beat at the sight of how sad and broken those young eyes were.

Back where he was from, young girls were not affected by the war like this. Sure, they were worried about their husbands, fathers and brothers. But they were still drinking coke, danced at the parties, whined at the shortage of nylon and drew the lines on their calves to imitate the tights. They were slowly getting used to wearing jeans as they overtook the factories, they were poster girls and had their hair done up in victory rolls. They were marking the letters with red and pink lipsticks and perfumes. And this young girl in front of him already had the eyes of a very old and wise woman. It shouldn’t be like this.

“Major Gale Cleven,” she repeated. “Sounds like from a movie.”

He was just Buck. Nothing special at all. He was not even from Hollywood or New York. But to her he was already unrealistic enough. She batted her eyelashes and looked away, shyly.

“Not really,” Buck tried to convince her and she gave him a sad smile.

Bill came back in new clothes. It was Buck’s turn now but he was afraid of leaving (Y/N) alone with his friend, so he kept staring at them awkwardly.

“Go,” Bill rolled his eyes. “I won’t hurt her,” he promised.

So Buck grabbed a pile of clothes preparead for him and went to the living room to change as fast as possible. When he came back to the kitchen, Bill was already eating some canned food with a slice of cheese and a few wild berries. A similar meal was waiting for Buck, too. (Y/N) was sitting by the table but she had no food in front of her.

“And you?” He asked her as he sat down.

“I already ate,” she told him but he had a feeling she lied so he pretended to be full already after eating a half of the plate. He offered her the rest and she eagerly took it from him as her eyes sparkled. It was probably her first “proper” meal on that day.

After they ate, (Y/N) showed them to their rooms. One belonged to her father and it was downstairs. Upstairs there were two tiny bedrooms. One was hers and one was her brother’s. She wanted Buck to sleep in it. She didn’t have to say it out loud but he knew that she trusted him more than she trusted his friend. Bill was not complaining because the room downstairs was bigger and had a nicer bed.

When Bill was already in the bedroom given to him, (Y/N) was helping Buck to put the sheets on. He was insisting there was no need but she tried her best to be a good host even in such gruesome circumstances.

“When I do this… It’s a bit like… It’s still normal, you know?” She tried to explain the best she could. He nodded at her. He understood. “There you go,” she fixed the sheets for the last time and looked down proudly at the made up bed.

“Thank you,” Buck nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up at the poster on her brother’s wall. It was very old and the colours were faded away now but he could recognise it. It was a movie poster of Charlie Chaplin’s movie City Lights.

“My brother liked Charlie Chaplin,” (Y/N) smiled. “And the films. Especially American ones. He didn’t get to see many but he liked the posters,” she explained. “When he was able to see a film, he would come back home and tell me everything about it.”

“I hope he’s alright,” Buck tried to cheer her up.

“He died,” she explained and he felt a stinging pain in his heart.

“You only said he hadn’t come back…”

“They sent us a medal and all. He’s dead,” she explained. “But papa threw the medal away. It’s in the river now.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t like Hitler. And my brother didn’t like him either,” she nodded. “I wish he was here, my brother. He would like you,” she added before finally approaching the door to leave him alone for the night. “Good night,” she walked away and closed the door quietly.

Buck was exhausted but he couldn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. What would happen tomorrow? She would take them to town, drop them off with the Americans and then what? She would just go back here? To that awful house in the middle of nowhere where she was starving and not safe? He hated to even think of such a possibility.

The walk to town was stressful and everyone kept giving them funny and suspicious looks. However, (Y/N)’s poker face and determination managed to take them to the town centre safely. It looked awful and empty – like a ghost town. She pointed at one of the soldiers patrolling the street and told them he was an American.

“Go to him,” she only said and turned around to walk away but Buck grabbed her by the sleeve of her coat and Bill hissed at him. Buck didn’t listen to that.

“What about you?” Buck asked her and her eyes widened.

“What do you mean? I don’t want him to see me,” she explained.

“You’re just going back home now?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“No,” Buck shook his head. “You’re coming with us.”

“What are you doing, Gale?” Bill asked, irritated.

“She deserves a warm meal at least,” Buck insisted and kept a tight grip on (Y/N)’s sleeve as they all approached the suspicious soldier.

They lifted their hands up and explained who they were. Their accents and believable numbers of their units made the patrolling soldier less hostile. But then he laid his eyes on the girl.

“And her?” He asked.

“She’s with us. She helped us,” Buck told him.

“I know her. She lives in this town,” the soldier squinted his eyes at (Y/N) and she took a deep breath in. “She’s German.”

“Yes, she helped us last night. We wouldn’t be here if it was not for her,” Buck repeated. “Listen, I just want her to eat something warm, alright?”

The soldier called for a few other men who came quickly after and had a short and quiet discussion. Eventually they nodded their heads at them and led them inside of a building full of soldiers. They all looked up curiously and suspiciously.

Bill left Buck’s side quickly to talk to the men stationed there. But Buck didn’t leave (Y/N)’s side as he felt he had to look after her in this place. They were given a proper, warm meal and they sat by the table in the corner. She was eating fast and with shaky hands like a starving child given food after a long while. Buck’s heart broke and he reached his hand out to hold one of her cold ones. She looked up, scared, and he smiled softly.

“Slow down,” he only whispered.

“The women here are nothing special,” one of the men sitting by the table nearby commented. “You should have seen the French ones,” he whistled.

Buck didn’t react to that as his jaw clenched. (Y/N) ignored that comment, too, but her eyes were saddened.

When she was done with her meal, Buck approached the man in charge of the unit and asked if they could give her a few cans of food and some other supplies. The man did not want to agree.

“We’re short on them ourselves, Major Cleven,” he explained.

“Yes, sir, I understand, sir. But she lives alone in the middle of nowhere. Her brother is dead, her father most likely, too. She helped us. She’s a good woman, sir,” Buck tried to convince him.

“There is no doubt about that, son. I’m sorry. She’s not the first and not the last good woman suffering in this war.”

Buck felt defeated and helpless when he approached (Y/N) who was already preparing to leave.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t convince him to give you supplies,” he admitted, ashamed of himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine,” she tried to assure him and squeezed his arm. “You’re a good man,” she added. “Thank you for the meal… And the kindness.”

“I should be the one thanking you more,” he couldn’t help himself and he fixed her ruffled hair. Everything about her was screaming inside of him to help her, to take care of her. But he couldn’t and it was killing him. “I will never forget you, German girl.”

“And I will never forget you, Major Cleven,” she smiled and he could only watch her walk away, approaching the small road leading back to the forest.

If Bill hadn’t been there with him, he would have started thinking that she was nothing but a forest fairy he had imagined. After all he was in a land of fairytales.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #rougegenshin #*buck #lilysfiction #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader

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