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spaceratprodigy · 6 months ago

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✨ NSFW Alphabet Tag Post ✨

Thank you for the tag @freesidexjunkie 💖💕

Took me a bit BUT your call for me to ramble about Faith and Max ideas has been HEARD and ye shall receive 👀💦💦

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A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

I like to imagine they're big softies just melting into each other. This is something they never thought they'd find in anyone and they want to relish in the comfort for as long as possible. It's unbelievable. Staying close, last lingering touches, helping clean each other up, able to immediately pick up a conversation about something that interests them while they enjoy the intimacy of the closeness, the peace, and the privacy.

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of their partner)

Faith loves his hands. She'll hold them, press them to her lips, she wants them all over her. He hesitated in the past to let those hands touch her, ashamed of the pain and violence they were capable of, but she took them anyway. She forgave them. She assured him they would never hurt her.

Mayhaps silly, but Max loves her face. She keeps so much of it hidden at all times, and he will never take for granted again how blessed he is to be the only one to see a side of her she shows no one else. Those eyes of hers, normally so dark and fierce hidden behind her sunglasses, soften so much when she looks at him, they are filled with so much pain and so much love. The way she smiles, the smile that only appears when he has her all to himself. The scars he will gently touch and kiss and whisper promises against her skin how he will never let anyone hurt her ever again.

C = Cum

Everyone is going to have to accept that Faith is downright filthy and making Max cum is going to drive her absolutely wild. And she is going to be just as filthy when it comes to the clean up.

D = Dirty Secret

Probably neither of them wanting to admit how desperately they didn't realize they needed this.

E = Experience

Most people that have talked to me about Max know that my headcanon for him is Inexperienced But Good With His Hands.

Faith has a little more experience and has a much better grasp of her sexual appetite and desires. I know I joke around with many ships for her, but in her canon it really isn't easy for someone to capture her attention and satisfy her needs.

F = Favorite Position

For Faith I don't know she really has a favorite. It depends more on her mood than anything else, different positions hitting different spots filling her with different sensations and all that. She does take charge and top him rather often.

I like to imagine Max enjoys the positions where they're incredibly intertwined and pulled into each other. The feeling of their bodies becoming one, the heat of their skin touching, it's intoxicating. Who knew it was possible to enjoy the company of another person this much.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I think, especially when they first become intimate, they're incredibly soft with each other. They're learning how to love each other in such a new way. There's no rush, no shame, no judgement. It's just them. Exploring every inch of each other, committing every detail to memory. I always imagine Max starting off a bit more serious and embarrassed while he's finding his groove, but in time him and Faith both are so comfortable and natural with each other that their personalities have no issue shining through.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

Faith is admittedly not the most well groomed. She trims to her preference but she's rockin out whatever is natural.

Max takes a little more care in grooming himself. I always imagine his routine changing a bit since joining the crew, not being as on top of it as frequently as he was beforehand. Especially if they're traveling. But ultimately, he takes a little more care than Faith does.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

They're very aware of each other. They really want to make sure the other is enjoying themself and feeling just as good as they are. Paying close attention aside, they are starved, passionate, craving indulging in every ounce of each other, they want to be completely lost in one another.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

I'm not gonna pretend like Faith doesn't touch herself frequently when she has the privacy to do so. Girl has needs. Also some frustrations she needs to work out.

I don't really headcanon Max as touching himself, honestly. I feel like he is just incredibly pent up. But I also feel like maybe those kinds of feelings weren't exactly as strong in him and he was too caught up in his obsession more than anything else.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I kinda want to answer this one for the sake of being silly. She has a priest kink and he loves the kind of woman that can kick his ass.

Honestly I feel like there's a lot I could get into here. But it might just be easier to be vague. She really gets off to him being rough and desperate. He is a bit flustered to admit how much her ungodly depravity gets him worked up. Do with that information what you will, there are many layers to what it entails.

L = Location (favorite places to do the deed)

I think they enjoy their privacy the most. But they also don't exactly have a lot of freedom when on the ship or when other crew mates are around in general to be as adventurous. But in some loose ideas and other AUs where they do have that luxury, I allow them to be a bit more impatient and needy. I feel like they deserve to have some alone time in the Grand Colonial Penthouse Suite. I also feel like they absolutely need to have sex in an OSI Church.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, what gets them going)

Honestly? Attention from each other. They're not exactly the most mushy gushy people, and they're very particular when it comes to how they engage with others that being favored in the eyes of the other is exhilarating. Being close, gently touching, saying each other's first name.

I also extend this to them just watching each other. Whenever they're in a fight having to defend themselves, whenever they're watching the other do something they're really good at, whenever they're info dumping about something to each other. Simply just existing together.

N = NO (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

I don't see either of them being into consensual violence if that makes sense. They have their own burdens with anger issues and violent tendencies, that isn't something they want intimately. Especially with Faith having a history of abuse, and Max never wanting to harm her in any way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Highly enjoy both but I would say that they both particularly get off to giving. The sounds and reactions that come from pleasuring each other cannot be compared.

While I still don't see Max as exactly experienced and needs his practice, I find the idea of him finding a newfound addiction in tasting the sweet forbidden nectar of the gods rather irresistible.

Faith has her own limitations but she knows exactly how to use them to her advantage, and once she gets her hands, and mouth, on him she'll figure out exactly how to play with him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc)

They start off quite slow and sensual when they're learning to love each other. Figuring out their needs and desires, finding all the good spots, what really drives each other wild. And they love every minute of it. They're learning and they're loving this closeness they didn't realize they were starving for for so long. They need this for their trust and passion to blossom, it only brings them closer to be so vulnerable with each other. In time they find their groove and pick up the pace more, but there's something so wonderful in the slow tenderness.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

They aren't opposed to it. They honestly probably have quickies rather often, their spacer lifestyle and the crew always being nearby can really interfere with how much time and privacy they have. Not that they aren't ever having quickies for funsies either. But I do think they would like to have more opportunity for proper sex.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)

I mean, yeah. They've got a lot about each other to explore. Faith is probably the more adventurous one in terms of ideas to try new things.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

Faith has more stamina than Max, but I see it more as because I write him as more inexperienced and a lil more sensitive to the sensations. Once he gets used to her he's able to hold himself together longer and be his confident, cocky self.

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Faith would absolutely get her hands on some toys. They're probably mostly getting used on herself tho. For her own pleasure, for making him watch and not letting him touch, for him to use on her. That isn't to say they aren't also being used on him, she'll have a blast hearing the sounds he makes while coming undone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A lot. They love breaking each other's composure. They both behave with a certain level of calculation, that being able to disrupt that in any way gets them going. Especially once they get each other alone and they let their hands join the game. What is hotter than seeing either of them become a needy, begging mess. And let's be honest, I think she needs to edge Max, it would be good for him, I swear.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds do they make)

Faith is louder than Max ever expected, sometimes even needing to cover her mouth during sex to keep from letting the entire ship hear. She's normally so quiet and composed, but her moans were much higher than her usual voice and she practically squeaked.

Max is usually on the quieter side, groaning roughly into her and swearing against her skin. But if she has her mouth on him or she's riding him she's able to get him to cry out in a tone she's never heard him make otherwise while he's gripping onto her desperately.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

I always come back to this idea of Max having a wet dream about Faith prior to them getting together and it forces him to acknowledge a lot of things.

X = X-Ray (let's see what's going on in those pants, pictures or words)

I mean. I write them as a bisexual m/f couple. Faith is always gonna be a woman that enjoys her fluidity. But I think y'all already know I love every interpretation of Max.

Do you mean that or what are they wearing? In canon I don't think their underwear is that exciting. She definitely has lingerie in AUs that she wears for him. Love putting my girly in some black lace especially. Whenever I draw porn of Max I give him sock garters.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Faith has a pretty high sex drive, in her canon she just doesn't exactly get to satisfy it as much as she'd probably like until she meets Max. But even then, I don't think his sex drive is quite as high, not at first especially, but she loves him and she wouldn't change the way he loves her for anything in the galaxy. He's not letting her go unsatisfied, let's put it that way.

Z = ZZZ (...how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Faith has sleep issues, insomnia and nightmares mostly when it's not pain and discomfort making her toss and turn, so she probably isn't falling right to sleep. But she is going to be tired out enough that it's easier for her to get comfortable, especially getting to be in his arms and feeling safe and at ease.

I tend to also write Max as having sleep issues, but that's a different conversation for another day. But I think this kind of release would do him wonders to finally get some good rest. He's used to staying up until he's sure Faith made it to sleep okay, so he'll probably try to hold on tho.

open tag to anyone who wants to jump in!

#long post #teehee #faith and max

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allyriadayne · 1 year ago

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What do you think would have happend with Jace if he had survived the Dance?

oh this is fun, thanks for the question!

survived as in everything happens the same except jace survived the gullet? i won't get into mechanics of this happening because i'd involve too many moving parts and what ifs and blatant avoidance of certain parts. so whatever. let's say daemon and aemond kill each other, aegon kills rhaenyra and imprisons baela and baby aegon.

two things:

1) if jace is in dragonstone, let's say recuperating from his injuries, in reality i don't think aegon would kill him just like he didn't kill rhaenyra's heir at the moment. jace might be too injured to truly pose a threat or aegon's advisors would "protect" him like they did baela.

2) jace is not in dragonstone. he could be healthy or injured but he's not there when aegon takes the island for some reason. i've read fic where he's with the northern/riverlands army or makes his way to the capital alone after aegon's dead. in any case, he reaches the capital at some point.

when the greens are neutralized and all the heads turn to rhaenyra's children, it's probable that the support would be split between the older, seasoned prince of dubious birth and the young, unresponsive prince of clear ancestry. the things is while a regency happened in canon i don't think anybody wanted to do that. the issues lingering needed to be solved NOW, the armies needed to be disbanded NOW, alicent and jaehaera needed to be secured NOW. even if jace is physically injured or abed at this moment, i think he would get the clear support of the biggest faction aka the riverlands, the vale, and the north. on the other side, he's corlys' grandson, he was a dragonrider (let's assume the dragon still died sowwy), he's commanded armies, and if he married baela that moment, he could be having an heir by the next year. the succession and therefore the kingdom, is stable.

i'm not saying there wouldn't be people vying for baby aegon's ascension just to be against jace perceived bastardy now or down the line but it's more likely that he gets more support to get the crown and just end the war once and for all.

so jace takes the crown immediately. i don't think the hour of the wolf happens at all, most of the attributions cregan takes for himself came from intimidating baby aegon and probs by being the highest ranking lord in a place where everybody was burning incriminating papers from the last reign lmao. i think he would be a lot more aligned with corlys in sending peace terms first, but would not hesitate if the rest of the kingdom didn't fall in line. as for aegon ii's advisors, to me jace would try to get them out quietly. stay for a bit but sending them home as soon as he could. corlys betrayed the blacks, jace would probably marry baela as a reward for past services (and bc he loves her obviously etc) and dismiss him to driftmark. thanks to jace, corlys has his legitimate heir in alyn, he's more than okay.

for people like larys, the ironrod, orwyle and tyland....... they were aegon's closest advisors and while i don't think jace would imprison them or kill them i think he'd test them in some way to prove they can change their loyalty and move on. after a few months or years when the transition smooths out, i would bet jace will be dismissing them for lords who are 100% on his side. i'd say all would do it because at least in the show i don't see them supporting the greens out of personal reasons, not enough to die for the memory of aegon OR jaehaera's claim, you know? and in any case, it /is/ a man that is ruling now lmao lol. i still see jasper wylde pushing his daughter to baby aegon if jace is not available anymore, tho.

jace wouldn't kill alicent or jaehaera either. i think the death of so many people and most of all, his brothers, would affect him very much. at this point alicent is described as mad and jaehaera is a traumatized child. he wouldn't send them to oldtown or keep them together all the time but i don't think he would be cruel (as for jaehaera's future, well, that's another story). they are his family after all and most of the threats are neutralized (hello alys hiiii i'm such a fan).

i can speculate on jace's mental state and say that while he would not shut himself out like baby aegon did, he wouldn't be the same at all. his drive to be the best version of himself would still be there of course, this is what will make him push himself to take control of the situation. but at the same time, i don't think he will want to be as much as a people pleaser as he is in canon. people will be vying for his favor, for baby aegon's hand, for rhaena's but to me, he will make the family close into themselves. during the war he learned to take command of his people, he has the presence and the confidence to say no now, he also has the crown and the symbols. that's half the battle done.

#ask #Anonymous #jacaerys velaryon #valyrianscrolls #this is a crazy thought experiment bc if jace were alive many things with the dragonseeds wouldn't happen like they did #so it adds more stuff to think about. what about addam? would he still die bc he fled after being branded a traitor? nettles? hugh and ulf?#like this is jace's pet project. he's invested in things working out #if jace and baela marry they'd have daena rhaena and elaena bc it's fun and bc i say so. it's fun to imagine daena as jacela's daughter #OF COURSE all this if jace isn't poisoned to install baby aegon bc he's easier to manipulate and a long regency is better 😝#jace sends larys to quell the rebellion brewing in harrenhal > larys and alys have it out > it's alys' castle now sucker > larys is appalle #by having a silver haired brat in the family > rethinks his stance > jace is not such a bad king and nephew isn't he? > larys becomes #jace's little guy

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builtbybrokenbells · 2 years ago

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#4 with Sammy, or really any of them 🧡

“What are you doing up?” “My personal heater went away.”

w/c: 1.7k

pairing: sam x reader

warnings: fluff 🫶🏻

request a prompt and a person from the list ♥️ these are so fun and lighthearted! thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy!

Prompt list here

The early morning hours casted an unusual aura over your home. It was cold, but calm and radiated an atmosphere of peace. The chaos of the usual day-to-day was yet to penetrate the quietness. As you tumbled down the stairs, blanket wrapped tightly around you, you didn’t notice any sign of life. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment wash over you, realizing that you may have no luck in your search for your boyfriend. He was usually an early riser, up hours before you could even comprehend waking. Most days, it was for work. Eventually, after years of routine, it bled into his weekend schedule.

For the most part, it was fine. It allowed him some alone time to do what he pleased, and gave you a few extra hours of uninterrupted slumber. It was a blessing in disguise, and usually never posed an issue, because you never noticed he was gone. Then, there were times like this one, where you woke much too early to an empty bed, and couldn’t coax yourself back to sleep. The usual comfort of your bed was replaced by a nagging loneliness, and the craving for company was too large to ignore. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was always a pressing matter.

When your feet hit the hardwood floors, a chill ran up your spine. The golden glow of the rising sun through the window enveloped the home in a blanket of light. As inviting as it was, it was yet to satiate the chill in the air still lingering from the night. It wasn’t until you reached the entrance of the living room before you heard the first promise of other human life. There was a soft electric hum radiating through the thick silence. You peeked inside, feeling an immediate sense of comfort at the sight. Sam was sitting on the floor, guitar in his lap and notebook in front of him. He was shirtless, hair lazily contained by an elastic. The strands that were falling out framed his face with elegance, showcasing his beauty. He was scribbling something down on the paper, completely unaware of your intrusion.

There was an incense cone burning by the window, billowing smoke around the room. He had a mug of coffee sitting next to him on the ground, radiating a few pathetic streaks of steam. If you had to guess, he’d made it when he woke up, and had completely forgotten about it. He’d remember it when it turned cold, like usual. Part of you wanted to turn around and go back to bed without saying a word. He looked too calm for you to want to disturb him. Then again, there were few mornings you had the luxury to wake up to him at home. “Write anything worthwhile, yet?” Your voice broke through the silence, quiet and still raspy from sleep. Your eyes were heavy, barely open in attempt to keep out the sun. When you spoke, the shock caused him to jump in surprise. He looked towards you, a smile quickly breaking out on your lips. Your company was completely unexpected, and it was written all over his face.

“What are you doing up?” He asked, setting his pen atop the open notebook. “It’s way too early for you.” His attention was fully on you now, forgetting whatever he was in the middle of. That was one thing you loved about Sam; no matter what he was doing, you were always a priority to him. He never made you feel like a bother, and ensured that you knew your presence was valued.

“Cold.” You replied. “My personal heater was gone.” You informed him, subconsciously pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders. He chuckled, making a move to place his bass back on the guitar stand.

“You poor baby,” he sympathized, standing, now. He picked up his mug and journal off the floor, carefully setting them on the side table by the couch. You took a few steps towards him, and he met you halfway. He pulled you into his arms, immediately soothing you with the warmth of his body. He could feel you relax against him, comfort completely surrounding you. “Is this better?” You managed a nod while your head was pressed into his chest.

“Are you busy?” You asked, worried he was just too nice to tell you he didn’t have the time.

“Never too busy for you, baby.” He assured you. You couldn’t help but smile at his reassurance. He’d never once made you feel like he didn’t have time for you, and it was the most beautiful feeling you had ever felt. Sam was, without a doubt, your whole world, and it was fantastic to know that you were his, too.

“Come back to bed for a while?” You were practically falling back to sleep in his arms just standing there. You were hopeful for even just a few minutes of intimacy.

“Bed?” He questioned. “The suns out, the birds are chirping. The world is telling you to wake up, buttercup, not go back to bed.” The tone of voice easily let you know he was joking.

“The sun will be out and the birds will still be chirping in a few hours.” You argued. “Right now, the bed is cold and very empty without you.” He let out a small chuckle, already knowing what your words would be before you said them. He pulled back slightly, lifting your chin with his finger and leaning down to give you a kiss.

“Well, if that’s the case,” he accentuated his words to sound like he was thinking deeply about your statement. “I suppose I could join you, just for a little while.” He said it as if the idea was crazy. Before you could respond, he had parted from you and bent down slightly, scooping you up into his arms. You let out a noise of surprise, taken off guard by his sudden movement. As he carried you towards the stairs, you were both caught in a fit of giggles.

“I can walk, you know.” You scolded, barely annoyed by his actions. It was more for the banter.

“Really? I had no idea.” He mocked you. “Can you just let me be romantic?”

“Sure, but it’ll be a lot less romantic if you drop me.”

“So you don’t trust me?”

“Trust has nothing to do with this!” You exclaimed, holding on to him a bit tighter. “Unhand me this instant!” He made it to the top of the stairs and rushed you into the bedroom, only releasing his hold on you once he’d reached the bed. He let you fall to the mattress, laughing as you landed with a bounce. He only stopped his attack for a moment before starting again, just giving you enough time to recover from the fall. He took the comforter and wrestled it up to your chest, then moving on to fluffing the pillows around your head while being mindful of not accidentally hitting you. “Sam!” You giggled in protest, in complete disarray from his antics.

“There we go.” He said after tucking the blanket underneath you. He admired his work for a moment, then took it upon himself to aimlessly gaze around the room. You watched him, unsure what was to come next. After a few minutes, his eyes landed on the bed once again. “Ah, what a comfortable looking bed!” He boomed, pretending like the last ten minutes didn’t happen. His energetic voice only further proved that he was much more awake than you were. “I wonder why nobody is sleeping in it?” He brought his chin between his index finger and thumb to signify deep pondering. As annoying as his torment could be, you knew that you missed it more than anything when he was gone.

“Occupied,” you replied, but he paid no mind to it.

“I guess nobody would mind if I laid down right…..” he trailed off, slowly turning and lowering himself towards you. He carefully maneuvered his way so he was laying on top of you. “Here.” He finished, triumph sounding in his tone. He relaxed into you, letting out a long, dramatic sigh of satisfaction.

“Sam,” you complained, trying to free your arms to push him off of you. “Get off, you’re too heavy.” You laughed, although it was quite constricted due to all of his weight being on you. You managed to wiggle one of your arms out and make an attempt at shoving him to the side. He jumped slightly, looking around in shock and pretending he was surprised to find you there.

“Y/n!” He exclaimed. “I didn’t even see you there! Why didn’t you say something?” He asked, but was making slow work at moving from his position. After a few seconds of struggle, he dropped the act and rolled off to the side of you. When he turned to face you, he had a toothy grin and a gleam in his eye that you had grown to love so much.

“You’re an idiot.” You giggled.

“Your idiot.” He corrected, raising an eyebrow in hopes of confirmation. You nodded, a smile that matched his quickly growing on your lips.

“Yeah, of course you are.” You freed yourself from the blanket prison he’d made for you. Once you pushed the comforter away from your body, he took the opportunity to pull you into his arms.

“That’s good, because I really like being yours.” He clarified.

“I think I like it, too.” You settled into his hold, your cheek pressing against his bare chest. The warmth of his skin was inviting, and the sound of his heartbeat was already starting to lull you back to sleep.

“I love you,” he hummed, letting his fingers trace light patterns into your back. Your eyes fluttered closed, arm snaking around him to pull him a little bit closer.

“I love you, Sammy.” He shifted, lowering his body on the bed a little bit more. He brought his free hand to your face, guiding it upwards so he could give you another kiss. Once he pulled away, you resumed your earlier position.

“Go back to sleep, beautiful.” He said, gently brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Never have to go to sleep cold as long as I’m here.” He mumbled the last part like a promise to you both. The corners of your lips were permanently upturned into a smile as you drifted to sleep. You had always been certain that you would never be a morning person, but you had to admit that even the earliest of hours were absolutely delightful with Sam by your side.

•

fuck god dammit shirtless man bun sam fucks me up so bad he’s so pretty and cute and i love him and fuck

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thenightfolknetwork · 1 year ago

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Alright so I'm a ghost. I've been a ghost for quite a long time actually. I think I've been incorporeal longer than I've had a body. The reason I stuck around was because my family. Everyone in my family has had severe issues with mental health and depression specifically.

I've loved my family more than anything else, and my passing on. Well they had a hard time hanging on when I was haunting them. So I don't know what it would be like if I wasn't there.

It was great being able to stay with my family. The issue has only come up recently.You see. My family that I stayed here for are no longer here themselves. And yet I haven't faded.

I don't know how to let go after so many years of hanging on to this place, so my question is how do I let go, or, failing that, what do i do now?

To the first part of your question, I'm afraid the simple answer is that I do not know. There are so many questions surrounding the nature of ghosts – why some people become ghosts and others do not, why some genuses seem to have a predilection to ghost-hood compared to others, how and why certain ghosts “move on” or even what is really meant by the phrase.

These are questions well beyond the scope of a humble radio host – or a nascent advice blogger, as the case may be. What I can help you with is the here and now. There is no way of knowing how long you will be in this world, but I strongly recommend making the most of whatever time you have.

I'm glad you were able to stay with your family through the difficult period following your demise. Now, you need to figure out how to build a meaningful existence for yourself without them at its centre.

First of all, I suggest making contact with others in the liminal community. Depending on your particular circumstances and your physical limitations, you might find local groups to join or find community online. From there, you can start looking into what sorts of hobbies might be available to you, and what friends you might be able to share them with.

There is a theory in some circles of phantasmic philosophy that “letting go” requires a kind of thoughtless detachment to the world. It is not a theory with any more scientific weight behind it than any other – as I said, this is a question that is, as yet, unanswered. But it does seem to be true that people who are particularly concerned about a certain aspect of their pre-death existence are more inclined to linger than others.

By developing a rich, varied and interesting existence for yourself beyond your familial responsibilities, I think you stand a good chance at putting those concerns to rest and finding peace – if not the absolute, final peace you might be hoping for.

Then again, perhaps it depends on which hobbies you choose to take up. I could easily see how a person might absent-mindedly slip off the mortal coil while, say, painting miniatures.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

#answered #monstrous agonies #the nightfolk network

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notetosunshine · 1 year ago

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Every day I go through the same inescapable situation of coming across some varied degree of fat phobia. Both direct and indirect but disheartening regardless. I just sigh again. Scroll past. Maybe block if I get upset enough. And I’m just tired. Luckily I can scroll past and never see it again but that doesn’t stop the negative thoughts from lingering. And when those lingering thoughts decide to stick around I go through the same old cycle of how I shouldn’t exist, how life would be easier had I just starved myself or ran away or died. Everything would just be easy if I was more attractive.

And I always feel bad for thinking that because I know that attractive people do face a lot of issues, some more serious and at a higher frequency. But of course attractiveness doesn’t determine who does and doesn’t get assaulted or bullied or whatever. At least not all the time.

But how much easier would my life be if I was just skinny. Or mid size even! I could get clothes from almost anywhere without worrying if they offer my size. I could explore all the different styles I’d want to try. I could probably find the love of my life by now even! I’d take millions of pictures instead of frowning at my reflection. Maybe I wouldn’t have pcos? Maybe. Maybe I’d have even more friends and maybe a bigger following? But that’s not important to me. I love my friends and too many followers seem scary. But life would just be so drastically different if I was smaller.

But life wouldn’t be better just because I’m small, it would be better because people would respect me for not being fat. And this realization is part 2 of the cycle. Anger. Why do people villainize fat people, why do people harass fat people the way they do, why can’t a fat person exist the same way everyone else does without hearing insane comments. Why can’t I just live in peace?

I shouldn’t have to give people a reason as to why fat people deserve respect. I shouldn’t have to point out hypocritical comments. I shouldn’t have to defend fat people’s rights to exist the same way everyone else gets to. And above all else I shouldn’t feel anxious about speaking about it.

The way society is black people are probably the most marginalized race. However I know all skin folk ain’t kin folk. Because when we look into the black “community” itself, we unleash this mass of sexism, homophobia, transphobia, and fat phobia. Not unique to just black folk, but just reallly notable. I’m not gonna argue which is worse because they’re all terrible. But… it is crazy to see how the marginalized, marginalize other groups. And I understand bitterness and resentment leading you towards wanting to be on top for once. But not at the expense of others. And so for me, the most mind boggling nonsensical thing to see is when so many individuals, from the marginalized of the marginalized of the marginalized… ARE FATPHOBIC?!!! IT DOESNT MAKES SENSE! And it makes me SO angry because HOW can you understand what it’s like to exist in yourself and someone hate you for it, AND YOU GO ON TO DO THE SAME?!!!?

That’s where stage 3 comes in of hopelessness. Seeing the girls, gays, and theys, shamelessly being fat phobic. Hearing the debate of would you rather be xyz or fat. And fat rarely being chosen. People would rather die than be fat and it’s just so insane to me. You would rather die than be me? What even is me? What do you see me as? Am I a person or am I just a fat? As soon as you add fat in front of a person it shifts the tone a bit. It feels like instant objectification. Human or fat?

My all time favorite kicker is formerly fat people becoming raving fatphobes. That’s when I realize there will never be a day in my fat life where I will be completely free. I guess that applies to almost everyone but it’s not like this is on my mind 24/7. I go through this cycle like every month lol.

And then I just continue on with life. Seeing the same comments, feeling the same emotions, hating the same reflection.

0 notes

krotosis · 2 years ago

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alice, ever since i’ve held witness to nothingness, i can’t see life the same way anymore.

thinking seems to have split from it’s roots and now only revolves around pattern-seeking and contrast theories. resilience is honestly my only redeemable trait, but that can easily convert to stubbornness, so whos to say? sin tends to line every choice of mine, its fucking disgusting. you’d think i would’ve learnt my lesson by now. gross sickly slimy incapable child

when i was little, my step-dad would often shoot birds. he’d aim for families, try to take them out in one shot. i’d cry but it didn’t deter him. another dwindling bit of irony, i managed to cry for birds but not for his victims. i was a child, its fine, whatever. it’s honestly stupefying the fact he bought an illegally imported weapon just to fucking kill birds, what a cunt

but it’s fine, it’s all fine.

because nothingness is bliss.

in the mildest way my mind could process the ‘experience’, it was the kindest thing to ever happen and simultaneously not happen to me. it was beautiful, the way my mind remembers something that never occurred is so beautiful. it’s calming, it’s grounding, because it’s true, it’s real. i’d be blessed to stay that way, even if my sore rotting mind becomes incapable of remembering.

i can only wish for similar fates for everyone i care about. Alice, you don’t UNDERSTAND how fucking amazing it is. It’s so fucking beautiful I cant put it into words, and I never tried to, not in-person anyway.

people like my step-father are exactly reasons why nothingness is gorgeous. his actions exist as one, the man who happily made us breakfast in the morning, the first man child me dared to trust after EVERYTHING that happened and then simultaneously being a creepy stalker, abusive murderer if not months later. I knew he was bad, but not that bad, violence is just a part of life, can i really ..?????????? i dont know. i will never justify him. i didn’t care when it was just violence because it bred money and money was what we needed the most

my cat came back today! i wasn’t sure if he was hurt after the recent snow. i was going to go out looking for him, i dont even know what to comment about that. OBVIOUSLY i was gonna look for him but also,, not so obviously you know? maybe i was just telling myself i would do it and then never do? i waited 2 days with barely an afterthought so? how can i be sure that makes me a redeemable person? maybe i was just lying? how should i know т_т i need something to make me feel feelings that are more exact, precise, maybe then ill feel like i used to again

i replayed the arcana today! i nearly cried at the nostalgia, fictional worlds are so picturesque, why is real life so dull and bitter +_+ but i have to keep going !! its the gift !! some gift !! that i will never fully understand!!!!!!! but im meant to keep going anyway !!

relationships in media are so bitter. perfect friendships, lost and found and family and trust, things irl always work out but they never *work out*. theres never some adventure, just grisly grappling with your circumstances; you come out of it “okay, i guess” and that’s the best story you’ll have for decades. the fact theres no after to an end, just continuous days and days and days with days and days and days worth of issues is paralysing. it just doesn’t stop

i wish i could stop time. the closest thing i’d have to that nothingness. if i could, i’d just sleep, finally sleep GOOD sleep for the first time. i want to wake up feeling refreshed, i want to sleep feeling safe, knowing everything is still around me. time doesn’t pass, im free of its constraints. no what where when, sun rising night falling, next day 3am 4am 7, just me and me. nothing but me and warmth of my bed. my whole family is safe, they are safe because everything is incapable of being otherwise. even if being actively attacked, that victim is left to linger in never-fleeting moments, peace and solidity for once. time is cruel, but i don’t want to bore you with overused metaphors so i’m sure you can interpret it yourself.

so pessimistic today

your regretful childhood friend,

they miss you

0 notes

thetomorrowshow · 2 years ago

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every hand’s a winner

trust au masterlist - previous

I COME BEARING FLUFF.

also a little note: due to personal reasons, i will be stepping away from social media for an unforeseeable amount of time. because of this, fics/updates will be posted once a month on the second tuesday either until i get back or until they run out. for january expect some esh au, and the next part of hubris in february :) additionally, my queue will be posting every other day either until i get back or until my queue runs dry (unlikely, as there are close to 300 posts in it lol).

forget all that, though!!! bc i have some people being happy for you!

cw: blood and injuries

Scott goes home that very evening, like most of the other emperors—bar Jimmy, who is slated to stay overnight in the infirmary. They’d tried to keep Scott as well, fussing over his bloody nose and torn skin, but he’d promised to check in with the Rivendell healers at home to make sure time in the Void of the End won’t seriously affect him.

For once in his life, Scott willingly goes to the Rivendell infirmary, leaving with a couple of bandages and instructions to write down any strange symptoms.

The thing is, nobody has ever fallen into the Void before—let alone the one in the End—so there’s no way of knowing what might happen further down the road. Scott’s an anomaly of sorts, and it looks like he’s now the subject of a medical study.

He hasn’t noticed anything apart from a slight lingering dizziness, so he writes that down, feeling somewhat stupid about it being the only symptom he has to report, especially when that could be caused by a myriad of other things. It’s not like he’s never been dizzy before. He practically didn’t stop being dizzy back before he figured out how to sleep.

That night, he luckily doesn’t have to deal with his insomnia—he’s up until the sun rises meeting with various advisory groups: working out the best way to lock down Rivendell whilst still keeping trade routes open, mobilizing the layman army, and deciding how to go forward with various declarations of support for other empires. Within the night, four different ambassadors turn up to arrange an alliance, and Scott knows that his fellow emperors are awake dealing with the same things.

He doesn’t get a moment alone until well into the next day, after he has to send out a formal announcement that his and the Codfather’s betrothal is postponed until after the war (if Jimmy still wants such a relationship, of course). He can tell that many of his advisors don’t necessarily agree with this decision, but they recognize the direness of the situation (and Ilphas, Aeor bless them, defends Scott’s choice with a fervor), and allow the postponement to occur.

It’s past four in the afternoon before he finally has a moment to relax, kicking off his boots and bathing before changing from the travel clothes that he’s been wearing for almost two days straight into something clean. The sight of Jimmy’s robes in the closet next to his almost makes him cry for some reason, but he pushes past them to the back to dig out a pair of hose and a skirt, tucking an embroidered but comfortable tunic into them.

He can’t sleep.

Several months have passed since the torture of fWhip’s basement, his wounds entirely healed, but he can’t quite convince himself he’s safe to sleep alone. He really thought he’d be over it by now.

It’s no use trying, of course—after so many long hours, he doesn’t want to risk a panic attack. Instead, Scott lies in bed and just breathes, trying not to think about all the war preparations that he’s just spent hours making.

He also tries not to think about Jimmy.

That’s a whole other issue to deal with.

For a couple of minutes, he’s able to lie there in peace, shutting down any thought as soon as it breaches his mind.

Then his bedroom door opens.

Scott sits up, ready to reprimand whatever servant is entering—he’s in his private quarters, he could be without his veil—but he’s not meant to have a veil anymore, is he—

It doesn’t matter anyways, because it isn’t a servant at the door.

It’s Jimmy.

“Hey,” Jimmy waves awkwardly, slipping in and shutting the door behind him. “How—how’re you?”

Jimmy looks terrible.

Well, he looks beautiful, as per usual, but his fall through the Void has certainly taken its toll. There are bags under his eyes, his hair greasy and limp, and he walks with an unsteadiness that tells Scott he’s been experiencing the same dizziness. Most notably, his face isn’t bandaged anymore.

It had been hard to see in the End, when Jimmy’s face was pretty fairly just a mess of blood, and impossible to see when there had been bandages plastered on half his face, but it’s clear now that Jimmy’s lost almost all of the scales on his face.

They had run in patches up from his throat to the line of his jaw on both sides, some speckling across his cheeks and a handful clustered around both his mouth and eyes. Scott had always found them gorgeous, little sparkling jewels on his face that truly brought out the flecks of green in his eyes. Now there’s maybe three around his eyes, ten total over the entirety of his face. In place of all the missing scales is torn skin and scabs, blood shining on his jaw from where the scabs have split.

Scott feels a little sick looking at it. Jimmy’s throat is still wrapped in bandages, and he can see some tied around his hands, so he can only guess at how many are missing across the entirety of his body.

He’s not sure why the dressings are gone from his face, but those wounds look ripe for infection. They shouldn’t just be out in the open.

“Jimmy, where have your bandages gone?” he asks instead of replying, swinging out of bed. “You need new ones, come here.”

Jimmy follows him into the washroom that leads off from what was once their joint sitting room, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his sleeves. “They made me take them off at the door,” he explains. “To make sure it’s me, and all. It looks pretty gross, I know.”

“No, it’s not—it’s—I don’t want them getting infected, is all it is,” Scott says absentmindedly, digging through his healing chest for the proper materials. He finds a basket of bandages and a roll of gauze, which he removes and sets to the side. His hands pauses over a regen potion, glancing uncertainly at Jimmy.

Jimmy shakes his head. “No potions, doctor’s orders,” he says. “They’re afraid it won’t . . . grow back right. It’s a wait-and-see thing at the minute.”

Scott passes over the regen and the health potions, landing instead on some disinfectant ointment. He closes the chest and gestures for Jimmy to sit on it, turns away to wash his hands before twisting open the ointment.

Jimmy doesn’t sit still as he applies it, jiggling his knee and wincing and pulling back every time Scott touches him. His injuries must really hurt, then—Scott’s being as gentle as he can, barely touching his cheeks as he rubs the ointment in.

“Sorry,” he murmurs when he cleans a particularly ugly patch and Jimmy actually cries out a bit. Jimmy shakes his head, face twisted into a lopsided grimace.

“It’s fine,” he grits out. “Thanks.”

Well, it’s not as if Scott was going to let Jimmy patch himself up. He’s not sure what he’s getting thanked for.

He finishes up quickly and efficiently, hesitating at his mouth and eyes. The bandages are too blocky to work with the curves there, so he tears one up and uses the pieces to line any awkward spots.

Jimmy really doesn’t look any better once he’s done, covered in so many bits and pieces of bandages that barely any skin is showing. He forces a smile anyhow, shows Jimmy his reflection in the mirror.

Jimmy stares at himself for a long moment. “I’d laugh if I could move my mouth that much,” he comments, and the smile on Scott’s lips becomes just a bit more real. He’s making jokes. That’s got to be good.

Then Jimmy takes one of his hands, and Scott’s heart skips a beat.

“What’s this?”

Scott follows his gaze down to his hands—Scott’s knuckles have similar bandages wrapped around them.

“Same as you,” he says, flexing his wrists. “I escaped with just losing a bit of skin, fortunately.”

Jimmy nods. “Right. Scales—on a fish, perfect protection. Bit weak when you combine it with normal skin. It—it makes sense.”

“And you were in there for longer,” Scott adds. Jimmy shrugs, looking away and down. Every which way, except for back at him.

Scott leads the way back into the sitting room, gestures for Jimmy to take a seat on the sofa (it’s his favorite spot, Scott knows, the velvet of that left cushion still brushed back weird from when he’d been sitting there last). Scott almost sits in his preferred armchair, but makes a last-minute decision to sit beside Jimmy on the sofa.

They’re quiet for a moment, and it isn’t a gentle quiet, nor a comfortable one. It’s awkward, filled with tension, and Scott’s certain they keep looking at each other but never managing to catch one another’s eyes.

He’s got to say something, but all he can think about is Jimmy’s exhausted eyes, love confessions falling from bloodstained lips, impulsive kisses and a slippery grasp on his lover’s bleeding face.

He has to say something.

But Jimmy speaks first.

“I really like you,” Jimmy says, looking away, and Scott takes the moment to gaze at him, truly take in the fatigue lining his face and the droopiness of his eyelids. “I didn’t—I have for a while. Months, really. Ever since . . . I don’t know when. I just—well, I tried, that one time—” he grimaces— “I just . . . I didn’t feel worthy, I suppose, of you. You’re—Scott, you’re so perfect, always all put-together and—and rescue-y and everything, and I’m just . . . me. Gosh, I’m sorry for rambling—I really just meant to say that I like you and—and I kinda hope you like me too.”

Scott blinks.

If his heart flipped when Jimmy took his hand earlier, it’s positively doing cartwheels now.

Jimmy likes him.

And apparently, all that pining was for waste because he could’ve confessed this whole time and Jimmy would’ve reciprocated.

Scott can’t help it: he laughs. Just a little, a giggle that slips out accidentally, but it’s enough that Jimmy freezes and glances over at him, eyes terribly fearful.

Scott waves frantically, pushing closer to him. “No, no—I—I wasn’t laughing at you,” he’s quick to correct. “I was—Jimmy, I’ve liked you for ages, but I was so afraid of you rejecting me that I didn’t dare say anything. Just think what might have happened if we both actually used a bit of logic for once in our lives.”

Jimmy blinks. A surprised laugh bursts out, one that’s quickly stifled as Jimmy winces and covers his mouth. It’s really not funny—it must hurt to laugh, with his face in such a state—but Scott can’t help it. He laughs again, lightly punches Jimmy on the shoulder.

“Don’t laugh,” he reprimands, still laughing himself. “You’ll start bleeding again, and we can’t have that.”

Jimmy clearly can’t help it, his shoulders shaking as he struggles to not even smile. Scott’s smiling too, he’s gazing at Jimmy beside him as he tries not to laugh and. . . .

He’s really in love, huh? Because Jimmy’s always shone like a star, he’s always been so breathtakingly beautiful, but he’s somehow so much more so now that he’s his. Now, Scott gazes at him, wave after wave of glory hitting him like waves of heat from the sun.

He’s in love, and it’s wonderful.

“Um,” Jimmy says after a moment, and Scott realizes that not only is he staring at Jimmy, but Jimmy is staring right back.

“Sorry—” he starts to say, looking down at his hands, but Jimmy interrupts him.

“I actually—I know you’re busy, with . . . with everything going on, and I am too, but if you wanted to just have one night before all that? I’d still like to—to go stargazing with you.”

It’s wartimes. He only has the one night to offer Jimmy, and no promises for the future.

Scott smiles. “I would be honored.”

There’s no snow on the ground where they pick to stargaze, a stone shelf in the side of the mountain that Scott’s lain on many times past. He spreads out three blankets on top of one another and leaves a fourth bundled to the side, in case the air gets too chill.

Jimmy splays out immediately, just like how he’s always first in bed—an incredibly intimate thing for Scott to know, and something inside him seems to almost purr at the realization. Jimmy is his, and he is Jimmy’s (at least for tonight).

Scott eases himself down next to him—his lover, Jimmy’s his lover—and, in a split-second decision, shifts a bit closer so that their hips touch.

Jimmy doesn’t move away.

Scott’s heart flips a little.

Exor’s hooves, you’re acting like a teenager, he tells himself. You like him, and he likes you. Just—be normal.

He can’t be normal. There is no way he can be normal.

The world around them has been gradually growing dark the entire time they spent hiking up to here and setting up, and now it’s dark enough that Scott can barely see Jimmy’s face.

He hadn’t been able to see Jimmy’s face then, either.

He’d seen him fall.

Scott had just caught sight of it as he regained his sense of balance from the End portal. He’d looked up to find an unfamiliar island, the world surrounded by the darkness of the void, and on the other side of the island—

Even from that distance, Scott could tell that Jimmy’s fall was the most graceful he’d ever seen.

He spread his wings and took off without a second thought, abandoning the others who followed him through the portal.

He had to try. He had to.

He’d passed fWhip, who was laughing—who tried to grab him—as he went over the edge of the island.

And then, wings pulled tight to his body, nose down, he dove after Jimmy.

“Scott?”

He blinks, looks around. Jimmy’s at his side now, head propped up on his arm. Jimmy quirks an eyebrow, still barely visible. “You good? You kind of zoned out for a second there.”

Scott blinks again, looks up. The stars are starting to twinkle into vision, bright and lively, and Scott almost waves up to them.

Perhaps Jimmy doesn’t know much about elven beliefs, doesn’t know the significance of the stars. He doesn’t know that Scott could point out a dozen or two elven legends and heroes—Gelidrian, Calireth, Alinar. And others, more mundane—his parents, the nurse who had raised him, the palace guard from a mere two decades ago.

Someday, Scott knows he will join them all. Hopefully not any day soon.

“Whoa,” Jimmy whispers. Scott glances over at him, his face illuminated by the exaltation of elves. One of his hands is raised slightly. “They're so close.”

“They really are.”

They watch in silence for a while, more and more bundles of light appearing in the sky. When the entirety of the Stags is visible and bright, Scott points it out, taking Jimmy’s hand (his heart jumps, Jimmy’s his lover) to trace his fingers down the lines of stars.

“That’s the Clash of the Stags,” Scott tells him, tracing it over again. “On the left is Aeor, see His antler?”

“That’s your god, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s Aeor.” Scott smiles just a little bit—somehow, every time Jimmy knows something about elven history, it makes him ten times more attractive. “And then below Him and to the right is Exor, His brother.”

“I’ve heard you say his name before. Is he your god, too?”

Scott can’t help but snort. “No. Exor may be Aeor’s brother, but they don’t get along. Exor was cruel, controlled those under his domain, sacrificed the weak and oppressed the followers of Aeor. Aeor, meanwhile, ruled with kindness and respect, befitting of the last remaining gods.”

“What happened to the others?” Jimmy asks. “There are others, aren’t there?”

“Yes, we believe so. I’m sure you’ve heard Pix mention the Great Slumber?”

Jimmy nods, the movement scrunching up Scott’s sleeve. Jimmy’s so close to him, close enough that Scott can feel his every twitch and breath.

“Aeor and Exor were the only gods not to fall asleep. But when Exor became corrupted, jealous of his brother’s rule, Aeor knew He had to do something about it. So He gathered all His power and wielded it in a mighty battle against Exor—the Clash of the Stags. See how Aeor is kicking Exor down?”

Jimmy nods again. The nerves in Scott’s arm are tingling at his every touch, and he has to take a moment to swallow back the squeak that threatens to break his voice. “Um. Aeor used everything He had to seal Exor and his followers within a mountain forever,” he says, thankfully with no cracks. “Then He withdrew from the people, still hearing their prayers and granting small blessings, but separate from them. He lost much of His power in that fight, and has spent many thousands of years resting and caring for us—as any god should.”

Jimmy’s silent then, and when Scott looks over at him, he’s staring up at the sky, eyes flicking from point to point. Scott doesn’t look away, and while Jimmy’s eyes trace the stars, Scott’s eyes trace Jimmy’s face.

In the dark with the stars as their only light, the raw patches around his mouth and eyes that they hadn’t been able to bandage are invisible. The lines of exhaustion are impossible to see, as are the shadows Scott knows ring his eyes.

Instead, Scott sees the way his nose twitches. He sees long eyelashes that flutter gently. He sees golden hair that’s starting to curl around the gills, long in a way Scott’s never seen it. He sees lips that move soundlessly, lips that are looking more and more kissable by the second.

“There,” Jimmy says, and Scott pulls himself out of his reverie to follow Jimmy’s finger. Scott squints up at the sky as Jimmy traces a triangle shape out of the stars.

“That can be the mountain,” Jimmy says, sounding proud of himself. “The one that Aeor trapped them in. Do you guys know where that mountain is?”

Scott giggles a little—he can’t help it, it has to be a crime to be so cute—and traces along Jimmy’s triangle as well. It’s part of another constellation, he realizes after a moment—the Crystal of Rivendell, made up of stars of rulers who have passed on. “The mountain probably wasn’t real, Jimmy. Rivendell scholars have searched for it for literal ages, and they’ve not found evidence of it yet. Besides, I find it hard to believe that a mountain could entrap a god.”

“It was a magical mountain, you said so,” Jimmy says stubbornly. “Aeor sealed it. And I think it would be a great idea—some mountains are older than the ocean, you know, surely they have some sort of power.”

“Well, when you fight a god, trap him in a mountain and let me know how it goes.”

Jimmy laughs too, then cuts off abruptly as a cold gust of wind blows over them. He shivers, shifts close enough to Scott that he’s practically curled up in Scott’s side, head resting on his shoulder.

Scott’s certain that his heart actually stops.

Which is stupid, because—because they’ve done this before! Almost every morning, Scott wakes up pressed into Jimmy, and it’s fine. Well, it’s nerve-wracking and overwhelming and suffocating, but it’s been weeks since he last blushed and apologized, and much longer since he stopped pretending that Jimmy isn’t a very physically affectionate person. Romantic intentions or not (and now, in retrospect, Scott knows that most of them likely were romantic in some way and isn’t that something), Jimmy hugs him or leans on his shoulder on a near daily basis. This isn’t anything new.

Somehow, though, it’s the strangest sensation he’s ever known.

He’s been quiet for some time, he realizes suddenly, and before he even knows what to say he’s blurting out, “What’s your favorite constellation?”

Jimmy jerks a little bit. “What?”

“I—that’s how it started, isn’t it?” Scott says, and he just knows he’s paler than the stars right now. “You asked me what my favorite constellation is. Which one’s yours?”

Jimmy doesn’t answer immediately, pulling back a bit to gaze up at the stars properly. After a few moments, he takes Scott’s hand (the hairs on his arm stand up) and guides him up, much further to the left than the Stags. There, he traces out a strange shape—almost a lopsided rectangle, but with five sides.

Below it are two stars that are very familiar to Scott, he realizes with a jolt—

Staying up late every night—he’s just a child, he ought to be in bed, but instead he creeps over to the window and looks up at the stars.

His nurse had taught him to make a wish on the point of Aeor’s antler, and if the God was willing, his wish might come true. Scott can’t really remember where it is most of time, but he can always find those two bright stars to wish on—and that way, he would get two wishes!

He wishes twice for himself, or sometimes he uses one for Xornoth, or sometimes he uses one for his parents.

Most of the time, though, he wishes twice for himself—and he wishes for a friend.

Jimmy traces it again, the soft bandages on his knuckles rubbing against Scott’s matching set. “That one. That’s my favorite.”

“What is it?”

Jimmy’s hand falls to his side, almost in slow motion. “I don’t know,” he says, and there’s something wistful in his voice, something terribly sad. “But it feels like home.”

It gets too cold to stargaze, so Scott packs everything up and helps Jimmy back to the palace, flying in through his window so as not to get caught out by the guards.

And sure, it may be the beginning of the end of the world, war hovering over them like the executioner’s axe, but Scott can’t stop giggling. He and Jimmy are sneaking around like teenagers, trying to not be seen as they clamber in through his window. It’s so very cliche that he can’t help but enjoy it, can’t help but be entirely wrapped in the feeling of new love.

They both collapse onto Scott’s bed, both laughing, even though Jimmy’s covering his mouth and wincing like it hurts. He doesn’t stop, though, eyes sparkling as he snickers.

“The funny thing—the funniest part is, it’s not even funny,” Scott gasps out, and it isn’t—he thinks they’re more laughing because of the absurd pressure it is to sneak into a building that you belong in in the first place. It’s more stupid than anything—it would have been just fine to go in through the gates, really, but they’d decided to do it proper just for the fun of it.

Jimmy laughs harder at that, cutting himself off with a small “ouch!”. He presses his sleeve to his mouth for a moment before pulling it away, examining it for any blood. Apparently satisfied, he lets his arm fall and stretches out a bit.

“This was really good, Scott,” Jimmy says after a minute, and dear Aeor, even the way Jimmy says his name. . . .

“Can I kiss you?”

Scott blinks, sits up. Jimmy’s watching him, a blush spreading across what’s visible of his face. He almost looks just as surprised as Scott feels that those words fell from Jimmy’s mouth.

And really, props to Jimmy, because it’s not a bad idea. It’s a very good one, in Scott’s mind.

But they really need to talk about it first, don’t they?

Scott sits up, runs a hand through his hair. “I’d like to apologize, actually. For our first kiss.”

Jimmy frowns. “Yeah, I—it was sensory overload, yeah? I don’t think you need to apologize for that.”

“Wha—when did I say it was sensory overload?”

Jimmy sits up too, scoots along until he’s sitting beside Scott. “Well, I didn’t figure it out until today, actually. I sort of thought you hated me at first, but yesterday, when . . . and then again, earlier. You said—you’ve liked me this whole time, right?”

Scott nods.

“Right. Well, I figured if you did like me back then, you probably wanted to . . . do the whole kiss thing. And it’s really not like you to just run away like that. And I know you get sensory overload real bad sometimes, so. . . .”

Scott slides his hand toward Jimmy’s, loosely tangling their fingers together. It’s a conscious movement, one that sends nerves sparking up and down the very bones of his body.

It’s dangerously close to too much.

Yet it’s everything he’s wanted for so long.

“How about this,” Jimmy continues. “We—we’re . . . courting now, right? Um—that—that’s really nice to say—so how about we always ask first, before a kiss? And stuff like that. That way, neither of us is taken by surprise.”

Thrills go up and down every inch of Scott’s skin when Jimmy says that they’re courting, his breath stolen from his chest. They’re courting. They’re in a committed relationship. Jimmy is his, and he is Jimmy’s, and it’s true because Jimmy said so. It’s real.

“That—that sounds good,” he manages. He takes stock of himself—definitely on-edge, but he can handle one kiss. As long as they make sure it’s just one. And maybe if they do some pressure cuddling afterward.

“Can I kiss you?” Scott asks, his voice almost a whisper. What’s visible of Jimmy’s face under the bandages goes through a series of emotions—anxiety, enthusiasm, warmth, and then settling back on anxiety. He nods, a little uncertainly, and turns to fully face Scott, drawing his legs up criss-cross on the bed.

They’ve kissed three times before, but everything is different about this one.

There’s an awkward sort of lean-in, of course—the first and second times had been sudden, passionate, and the third filled with the thrill of survival. For this, they move slowly, telegraphing each movement carefully—akin to trying not to spook a wild stag, Scott thinks offhandedly.

And then their lips meet.

Scott’s always led kisses in past relationships, his lips slotted above his partner’s, but Jimmy takes the lead here, leaning up a bit to match Scott’s height—and Scott thinks he likes it. His lips are warm, far warmer than Scott’s, and wet, and so very very soft.

It’s not the burning fireworks of their first kisses, but it’s warm like a cozy evening by the fireplace—there are so many nerve endings, he can feel his shoulders start to raise at the overstimulation—and it’s Jimmy and he loves him so much and it’s overwhelming, it’s perfect, it’s underwhelming compared to the first time because Scott knows that Jimmy has very sharp teeth and knows how to use them—

But Jimmy pulls away after just a moment, their lips parting slowly, and offers a small smile. “Good?”

Scott can only manage a squeaky noise in the back of his throat, and Jimmy giggles. The sound is a little bit loud for his sensitive ears.

Scott stands and pulls off his cloak, muttering something about putting on softer clothes before ducking into his walk-in closet. He can hear Jimmy laughing behind him.

Normally Scott would consider himself the smooth one—why is he so uncollected? He can’t even find the words to make any sort of dirty jokes. Jimmy must think something’s wrong.

(And so many things are wrong, of course, but definitely not this.)

He changes into soft pajamas, emerging to find Jimmy having also changed—he’s in a loose shirt and shorts, hair mussed and occasional bandages wrapped around his arms and legs. Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how one looks at it—his face and hands had taken the brunt of the damage, only a couple of patches bandaged on his arms and even fewer on his legs. Jimmy smiles brightly when he sees Scott reenter.

“I sort of assumed I’d be staying the night. You looked overstimulated, do you need anything?”

Scott points to the bed. “Sleep?” he suggests, swallowing half of the word back. Jimmy nods, pulls back the covers.

“Do you want me on top of you?”

Scott can’t help it—he snorts. Jimmy goes totally red, sputtering incoherently.

“I—you know I—Scott!”

“Very forward, Jimmy, and on the first date too—”

“Oh, come off it!” Jimmy shakes his head, sighs, then adds, “We’ve been engaged for a while now; I don’t think it counts as a first date.”

Scott quirks a brow, and this is more familiar, this is how their banter is meant to be, flirtatious and comfortable and not at all awkward. “So you’re saying you’re open to it?”

“You are a menace,” Jimmy tells him, but he’s smiling, and it really does feel like before all of their issues. Except now Jimmy’s actually his, and the awkward dancing around each other in a newfound relationship hasn’t passed, but maybe they can become like this again soon enough.

Scott climbs into bed, turning down the lamp on his way in. He curls on his side, pulling the blankets up to his waist, his wings resting on the cushioned shelf built into his bed for this precise reason.

After a moment, the bed shakes as Jimmy climbs in beside him, then slowly, carefully, rests an arm around Scott’s waist.

“This okay?”

The weight of his arm is heavy and warm, the perfect amount of pressure, and Scott rolls to be fully on his stomach before pressing closer. When his head is up against Jimmy’s chest, and their knees are bumping at every readjustment, he nods.

He can be close to Jimmy. He doesn’t have to be self-conscious about wanting to touch him. He doesn’t have to restrain himself in private, pretend that the physical affection is all for show.

Scott moves one arm up, wrapped under Jimmy’s arm and up his back, and sighs. This is comfortable. This is right. This is real. Their bodies know how to fit together, weeks of practice in their sleep lending subconscious knowledge to Scott as he presses up against his lover, his Jimmy.

This is real, he tells himself, and it’s perfect.

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

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The Promise of Rain, Blurb 3

Technically the third in a blurb-ish series (though this is kinda long for a blurb lol) but can technically be read as a stand alone, but i think the other parts make this seem more significant lol

A/n kinda angsty, not sure if i loveeee this but i haven’t posted a fic in such a long time bc of graduation chaos but now it’s summer and i’m working on a lot of requests/stories :))

Summary: jealousy is out of place when there’s no real warrant for it, and sometimes it’s okay to be content--to not need the rain to make you promises.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! reader

Tiredness dulls the part of me that craves the rambunctious, but I’m still positive. I smile when someone does something only the truly inebriated find comical. I laugh when something somewhat actually funny happens, and I let the world around me drink. Twenty minutes--in twenty minutes I will claim a headache and go upstairs.

“You okay, y/n?” Jesper’s concern would border on genuinely considerate if it wasn’t for the slightest hint of slur in his words. Nights in which he consols himself after losing game after game are when he’s the friendliest. “You’re strangely quiet--you’re never quiet.”

I press my lips together oddly, smiling in a way that finally reaches my eyes. Jesper’s nice in an oddly particular way when he’s tipsy. Overly observant and careful. “Just a little tired,” I shift in my seat, leaning back against the plush seat in Kaz’s office, “I wish Kaz would just get here and dismiss us so I can go to bed.”

Jesper smiles, lifting his arm slightly and causing his glass to sway. Kaz is not going to take it well when he realizes that Jesper was extremely involved in the downstairs celebration. He turns ungracefully, moving to sit next to me with no warning. I half-heartedly glare as he takes up most of the small couch.

“You’re grumpy when you’re tired,” Jesper hums, stretching his casually.

I sigh once, but it lacks any bite. “I do not.”

He smiles easily, tilting his head so far to the side that it falls against the back of the seat, “No...but I know the real reason you’re grumpy.”

Rolling my eyes, I suppress my instinctual reaction. That would only expose his words as true. “I am not grumpy, there is no reason--”

“You know he hated it.”

I exhale, tired and slowly losing my fragine hold on fake tranquility. “Yeah.” That should make it better. “I know.” It doesn’t--it doesn’t make anything better.

So the contact we so desperately needed on our side took to flirting with Kaz. It was an uncomfortable situation because of its precariousness and I was worried because I know about his issues with touch. But it’s not like I care about the flirting part. No. It was unprofessional and so easily turned messy--that’s what my problem was.

Jesper sighs, stretching even more. I let him stretch his legs over me, too tired to push him off. I sigh, setting my chin on his bent knees. “What’s with the face, l/n?”

I roll my eyes again. Sometimes having someone care about you is annoying. I take back all of my positive thoughts about him--Jesper Fahey is an annoying drunk.

“There’s no face,” despite my words, I feel my expression sour even further. Jesper’s expression shifts from that of gentle worry to teasing pride. “And if there was one, it wouldn’t be because of Kaz Brekker.”

Jesper’s lips twitch upwards, something strange tainting his tipsy grin. “I never said a name.”

“One more condescending comment, and I’m shoving you off this damn couch.”

He laughs flatly, shifting closer and making himself more comfortable. Drunk and touchy--anyone else would have been slapped by now. “You’re nicer after some of this.”

He holds his glass out towards me casually, amber liquid sloshing slightly. I blink at the liquid with slight disinterest. I’m not exactly in the drinking mood...but I’m not exactly in the mood for any of this. The sound of the door opening doesn’t phase me--it’s not Inej, because she never lets herself be heard. Kaz doesn’t say anything, taking one dull step and then another, footsteps leaching the room of any warmth. The coldness he exudes so easily as a mask is strong tonight, I haven’t even looked at him and I can feel it.

Maybe I do need a drink.

I take the glass from Jesper, taking a quick and shallow sip of the liquid. It’s offensive in smell, taste, and the way it spills down my throat. The taste is much more intense than expected, some of the liquid slips past the corner of my mouth. Somehow more bitter than this moment, the liquid leaves me ready to splutter like a child. I exhale, pushing through the burning. Jesper moves his hand forward absentmindedly, wiping a single drop of liquid from my chin carelessly. The gesture would be sweet if my throat burned less.

“Jesper,” the warmth of the alcohol takes root in my chest, “That’s--” He laughs at my reaction, coaxing a smile from me. “Like literally the worst--why do you even have this?” If this is served in the Crow Club, I’ve never heard of it, this is the kind of under the counter alcohol that isn’t mass produced.

He laughs a little more freely. “Won it off of someone passing through--I don’t always lose.”

I wrinkle my nose, “An outlier shouldn’t be--”

“Oh, shut up.” Jesper laughs again.

“Both of you ‘shut up’,” Kaz sighs, stepping further into the room, “If you need to drink, at least wait until after my meeting.” I frown, ignoring Kaz’s lingering and sharp gaze, “You should all follow Inej’s example.”

“We can’t even see Inej.”

Kaz raises an eyebrow, but he regards me with nothing but voidness. He’s never exactly emotive, but normally in moments like this something I can never interpret touches his expression, coloring it human. “Exactly.”

“You’re funnier than people give you credit for.” The comment isn’t exactly sarcastic, but it’s something lighter than I should be offering. It’s an attempt at peace, the slight stiffness between us is starting to bother me. Our usual dynamic isn’t exactly friendly, but it’s more than this. Kaz glares. “But not tonight.”

His expression hardens. “Business is business. It’s not humor, it’s not whatever you try to make it.” Right. Just like it was business when that girl spent more time hitting on him than actually revealing real information. The thought leaves my expression tight as I swallow back my instinctual words. “It’s not whatever you’re currently doing.”

It takes me longer than it should to realize he’s referring to the position Jesper and I are in. Can he relax? It’s not my fault Jesper is tipsy and touchy.

“Kaz,” Inej’s voice is soft yet determined as she emerges from the shadows. It’s a miracle the way she’s nothing more than a shadow until she chooses not to be. “What’s our next job?”

Prompting Kaz in order to prevent a fight--Inej, always the closest thing to a mom available. I give her a partial smile, glad that she’s wedging herself between us and the tension, preventing conflict I’m too tired to follow through on.

“A merchant’s house,” he begins slowly, “We’ll be searching a merchant’s house but I’m seeking evidence more than property.” Jesper swings his legs off the couch with no warning. My head falls. I glare at Jesper who offers me a slightly apologetic tsk before dropping his head on my shoulder. Kaz must note the exchange because something in his expression tightens. He’s extra irritable today. “I’ll disclose more tomorrow,” he sighs once, already turning away, “Most of you are beyond listening tonight anyways.”

He’s at the door before I can tell him that I’m not drunk. The door opens and closes, but Kaz’s heaviness lingers like led. I frown, letting my head fall to the side, resting on Jesper’s.

“He’s weird today,” I mumble, unsure if I want a reply.

“He’s always like that,” Jesper breathes, “You’re losing your novelty, y/n--he always learns to harden himself against anything bright.”

The words leave me even more tired. “I don’t think I’m particularly bright.”

“Kaz does,” Inej replies, “And it has nothing to do with ‘novelty’, Jesper’s just cynical when he drinks.” I don’t know if I believe her, but I like knowing that Inej thinks that. “And Kaz can’t harden himself against you, and he hates that.”

I press my lips together, straightening my spine. “I’m not that great, and whatever Kaz does or doesn’t harden himself against doesn’t affect me at all.” My nails press into the plush seat. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this because whatever he does or doesn’t feel doesn’t matter to me.” I force myself up, doing all I can to seem perfectly calm. “All I care about is going to bed.”

Turning my head, I start to approach the door. Kaz has been strangely cold all night, and while I’m used to his moods, he hasn’t exactly directed them at me so fully since the day he caught me waiting for him to wake up after he almost died. If he wants to go back to how it used to be, then it can. Maybe I’ll care in the morning, when the growing weight of my eyelids is no longer a distraction.

“Sometimes the two of you confuse me,” Inej begins, “And sometimes I see you try to deal with emotion and I see the common ground.”

The words leave me cold. I don’t think being compared to Kaz is an insult, not when there’s so much it could mean. He’s much more complex than he wants to be. There is goodness within him, gilding the parts of him that are more shards than anything else.

I exhale, refusing to turn. Inej is too observant for her own good. “There is no emotion.”

“I’m not going to waste my time arguing over that because I know it’s a waste of time.” She pauses and I consider turning around in hopes of reading something less honest from her expression. “I’m just telling you as a friend that one of you needs to be mature and talk to the other tonight before the tension gets worse and that it’s not going to be him.”

She’s right. I exhale, “Do you think I should let him go?” Even just saying that leaves my heart aching. I know instantly that that’s not what I want, but it might be what he wants--it might be the best option. I might have the strength to let him go if I work at it. “I don’t--that’s not what I want and I’m not sure I could, but maybe that’s selfish of me.”

“Y/n.” I turn slowly, but I purposefully avoid her gaze, keeping my head down. “I know that I’ve known Kaz longer than you, and I know that when he’s getting along with you he’s,” she trails off, uncertain, “More him, in a good way.”

My heart swells, and with that comes feelings of panic. I never wanted to change him--to make him better or worse or anything; all I’ve ever wanted is to know him and to maybe help him with his burden. And to hear that maybe I’ve done that from someone so close to him--someone so observant and aware. That’s everything. And that terrifies me. Nothing good can last; nothing that seems to be all you could ever want actually is. I know that from life before the Crows, before I ran away from the castle I called home.

“I think he does the same for you.” I’ve never really thought about Kaz’s effect on me outside of the fact that he makes me feel warm in small moments and painfully seen in large ones.

I smile because she’s trying and she’s given me something. “I’d say I’d tell you when I make my decision, but something tells me you’ll know.”

She nods, expression shifting to something kind. “Goodnight, y/n.”

Jesper stretches out on the couch, settling himself comfortably, “Night, y/n.”

“Goodnight, guys.” I disappear past the door easily, heading towards my room.

I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to look for Kaz tonight. How much damage could be done in one night? Maybe he needs space. Maybe seeking him out now will make things worse. I exhale, opening the door to my room easily. I’ll decide before going to sleep.

When I step into the room, everything is in place. Everything is fine--but something about it feels off. The light is on. I didn’t leave the light on. Nothing else raises any red flags, so I continue into the room calmly, examining everything carefully. Nothing feels out of place as I further enter the room. I take in my bed, my dresser, and lastly my nightstand.

My heart swells all over again, but this time it feels even heavier than before. On the center of my nightstand, in perfect condition, is a copy of Pride and Prejudice. The same book I told Kaz about, the one thing besides clothing I took from the palace. I told him it was my mother’s favorite and then he asked me to read it to him.

I can’t picture him seeing this and thinking of me. I can’t picture him thinking of me--but no one else knew about my attachment to the book. I need to find him. I need to--to see him, to speak to him. To look him in the eye and see something I only ever see when we’re alone. Maybe he won’t have that look this time, but that’s okay.

I can’t expect to always understand him, but that does not mean I don’t know him.

The thought leaves me feeling a little more settled within the boundaries of my skin, but I don’t ease entirely. The good is more frightening than the bad. My fear of happiness is a benign secret I haven’t had to worry about in years. I don’t know enough about it to know how to deal with it let alone mention it to Kaz. Not that it’s his problem.

I squeeze the book to my stomach. Swallowing pride is a difficult thing, but I’m used to it with him. It’s usually worth it with Kaz because sometimes when I try he tries in his own way. I should find him. He’s not awfully creative about where he goes when he wants to be alone because people know better than to bother him. Kaz is probably in his attic or getting air outside or…

The lights were on when I came in. I’m an idiot. I didn’t feel weird when I walked into the room because of the book. Someone’s in here. He’s in here.

Setting the book down like I should have never touched it, I let out a sigh. “Lurking is unbecoming.”

“It’s also unbecoming to work for me and be so easily distracted by a book.” His voice reveals nothing as he emerges from the shadows. “I could have killed you with how long it took for you to notice my presence.” He pauses, eyebrows drawing together. “The light was on.”

Normally I’d have some kind of comment, some kind of joke that offers a more peaceful situation. “I know.” It’s a flat response. “I think on some subconscious level I knew,” I drop my gaze away from him, “I knew I was okay.” That sounds dumb. “I mean...I think I knew it was you so I knew I was okay.” Yeah, that wasn’t anymore eloquent. “That doesn’t make sense, but if you get to be confusing, I do too.”

“Confusing? There’s nothing to understand.” Curt. Simple. Dismissive.

I frown. ‘Nothing to understand’. Right, because there’s nothing confusing about how quickly he decided to dismiss me just to bring me some obscenely sentimental gift. “If you’re mad at me, you should at least tell me why.” I press my lips together. “At least that way I’ll know if I need to apologize or kick your ass.”

At that, he presses his lips together, corner of his mouth threatening to tilt upwards. “You would kick my ass?”

Great, even when he’s easing he has to be annoying. “I could.” There is no universe in which I could take him in a physical fight. “On a good day.” I let out a breath, doing all I can to not focus on his expression. Awkwardness settles in my chest as my eyes land on my bed. I sit down, trying not to let my shoulders slump tiredly as I stretch my legs across my bed. “You’re not having a good day.”

“My day is fine, I’m just not naively cheerful like you,” his words turn sharp, “Or Jesper.”

Weird addition. “Jesper’s not cheerful, he’s just drunk.” I let go of the ‘naive’ part, deciding to focus on the bigger picture. “And I’m not as naive or joyful as you think I am.” I’m not sure if I mean that as a rebuttal or just a fact. “I have bad days too.” This isn’t the kind of conversation I should have while this tired. “I could be less cheerful if you’d like.”

He’s so silent I momentarily wonder if he’s left. “No.” It’s not much, but I take it. Straightening my back, I pull my legs beneath me, intentionally creating space. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ah, blatant rejection. It would sting if I was less in the right. “Maybe you’ll be less weird then.”

“I am not being weird.” At least I’m getting some kind of reaction from him. “You’re the one who--”

“Who what?” Finally--progress.

Kaz sighs, turning slightly. “You’re the one who decided to ignore me after we met with the contact.” I part my lips, ready to retort, but no words come. He did pick up on my slight annoyance, and he reciprocated it in a much larger way.

He can never know that this all came from some ridiculous, territorial--partial jealousy. “I didn’t mean to ignore you,” partial lie, “I’m just kind of in a weird place today, I’m tired.”

“Not too tired for Jesper, it seems.”

What? Is that what this is about? “What? All I did was sit there--he’s a touchy drunk and I just happened to be next to him.”

“You laugh with him,” he says this blankly, “You can touch him.”

The edge of unsafe territory cuts into me at an odd angle. Is this about him? Is he really tormenting himself over something so asinine to me when it comes to him? I’d rather have him than all the physical touch in the world. The book on the nightstand feels closer to me, growing by the prospect of its significance alone. That gesture, that’s more intimate than anything Jesper and I did downstairs.

“So?” I straighten my back slightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

He presses his lips together. “That’s the problem--anyone can manage meaningless contact…” The silence is louder than the words that came before it. Oh. I guess I’m not the only one who gets just a little jealous in an unwarranted way. “What if you were hurt? What if you were hurt and we were alone and you needed someone to help you and I couldn’t?” He lets out a sigh, a sound too tired for me to associate with him. “You say you don’t care now, but you’ll grow tired of it--the only life I can offer.”

Inej’s words about the similarities between Kaz and I echo in my mind. “Sometimes I don’t like when things are going well because I don’t know how to be truly content, fully happy.” Saying this twists my stomach. “I don’t know how to trust good things, so whenever there are good things I think about all the ways I could ruin something and then I do.” I take a breath. “I’m not saying that things are particularly good for you or that you’re happy, but I am saying that maybe you shouldn’t think three steps ahead when there’s nothing to think ahead about.” I regard his expression carefully, but nothing has changed. “I told you the only thing I want is to know you, and that’s not going to change.”

“Y/n,” his voice is low, “I am not rain--I can’t promise you anything.”

I scratch my knee, dropping my gaze. “For once I don’t want rain.”

Kaz sighs. “Get some sleep.” Something about the way he’s speaking is authoritative but it lacks any weight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I frown freely, “Kaz--”

“You look tired,” he mumbles, “You need rest.” He’s using this as an excuse to escape his feelings, but he’s already given me more than I expected. Greed ruins things, but then again, so does selflessness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“For the job?”

Something strange crosses his features as his expression teeters on shifting. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeats, a little more certain.

The response doesn’t satiate me. “Kaz--”

“I may not be the rain, but I’m capable of making promises as well.” There’s something final about the way he says this, but it doesn’t feel cruel.

Maybe I’d protest if my eyelids were less weighted. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

My head falls against the pillow. I’m not sure if he replies, too lost in the drawl of sleep before he can even close the door.

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #six of crows #six of crows imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone show #my works #shadow and bone netflix #six of crows fic #soc imagine #soc fic #sab fic #kaz brekker imagine #grishaverse #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader

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libertybri · 3 years ago

Note

I would die for that jealous prompt with Romanced! Maxson &/or Maccready 😭

LOVE your writing by the way 💕

Thank you, you’re so sweet! I figured I would write Maxson for this one since there isn’t a lot of Elder content out there, but I can definitely make a MacCready version later on too!

Riled Up - Elder Maxson x gn!Sole

The Elder of the Brotherhood rarely left the safety of the Prydwen, when he did it would only be for serious matters or battle. However, that all recently changed when he began seeing Sole. They could never situate themselves on the Prydwen, though he could never understand why. This led him to follow them out into the Commonwealth most nights, sticking to his lover like a lost puppy in uncharted territory. Goodneighbor especially was one of his most disliked areas outside of Brotherhood grounds. Sole, however, saw no issue with dragging their boyfriend down to the old Third Rail for some drinks and dinner.

The two sit at the furtherest end of the bar and are served bourbon and Salisbury steak, basking in each other’s presence and overall having a good time, despite the fact that Arthur would rather be at home doing this. He could put that lingering thought aside in the moment as he took in the sight of his lover, smiling genuinely at him with a sort of gleam in their eye he believed resembled their love for him.

Their lovely night couldn’t be complete without some scavver attempting to create a ruin on it. A lanky man with a thick Boston accent approaches the two, eyeing up Sole a bit too long for Arthur’s liking. “Ey sweetheart, what’re you doin’ with a man like that? Heard someone like you does all the dominatin’ and I’m into that.” He opens up with heavy flirting, if one could even call it that. People were known to be vulgar in the Third Rail, but Sole had never encountered such behavior on their own time before.

“That’s not really—“

Arthur puts a hand on their forearm comfortingly, taking their attention off of the man. He takes over the conversation for them as he stands in between his lover and the man, looming over his much smaller figure. Anyone with a brain could have taken just this as their queue to leave the couple be and get on with their night, however this man saw it as an opportunity to get back at whatever antics he didn’t see fit in the Brotherhood, as the powerhouse of the faction stood before him.

“I wasn’t talkin’ to you, big guy,” he smirks at his doing.

“You should leave.” Arthur speaks coldly, narrowing his eyes at the fellow.

He lets out a dry laugh as he responds to Arthur, “If anyone should leave, it’s gotta be you, Elder Dick. Now you already know you ain’t too welcome around these parts. Take it kindly while you can.”

Before Arthur can make any hasty decisions under the influence of his own anger, Sole lightly shoves him aside and steps in between them. They glare at the man and point a finger directly into his chest as they scold him, “You should be ashamed for ruining such a good night! Do you really think that kind of attitude is going to get me anywhere with you?”

“I was hoping it would get you to bed,” he admits, continuing on his snarky remarks towards the couple.

“Well, with the way you go about things, it’s pretty clear you struggle to get anyone to bed. I hope you can work on yourself, we will not be seeing you again.” Sole loops an arm with Arthur’s and drags him out of the place. The two settle at the hotel for the night and finally get some peace alone.

The Elder breathes out a deep sigh, sitting on the bed next to his lover. He leans into their side and lets go of the troubles of the day. “I wish I could have stood up for you more. Had we been anywhere else, he would have regretted his decision to mess with you.”

“I know, you goof. You don’t have anything to prove to me,” Sole runs their fingers through his hair soothingly as Arthur takes this as his cue to get comfier, laying in their lap and closing his eyes.

“It just makes me feel inadequate when I can’t give guys like that what they deserve.”

“A beating?”

“I didn’t say that—“ Arthur looks up at Sole and furrows his brows. He didn’t have to hide his feelings from them, he didn’t feel embarrassed to admit how that man made him feel. He felt comfort in the fact that Sole could stand in between them and still stand on his side. “He was being out of hand from the start, to be fair.”

“I already said you don’t have to prove anything to me,” they laugh.

“I know, but maybe you should know that I don’t think that much will change when it comes to you. Maybe I will grow out of it as we go through life together, maybe not. The thought of another man making you swoon makes me…” he pauses as just the thought riles him up. “If we were in Diamond City tonight and that happened, he would have ended up with more than a shattered ego.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep up your good behavior, love. You can’t go around fighting civilians.” At his silence, Sole takes his face in their hands and kisses his forehead teasingly. “You remember how hard it was for you to make me swoon? You really think any other guy has what it takes, then? You’re not a regular Joe, I’ll tell you that much, babe.”

Arthur finds peace in their silly, yet affirming approach to comforting his jealousy. He sits up and takes them in his arms. “The fact that I had to try so hard to get you makes the thought of losing you to another much scarier. But, I can appreciate your affirmation.” They smile at his acceptance and cuddle further into his arms. The two end their night off with sweet nothings as they drift off to sleep.

#fallout #fallout 4 #elder maxson #arthur maxson #fallout 4 maxson #fallout fanfic #fallout fandom

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Text

In Name Only - Part 17

A/N: Hello, my loves! I’m finally back with some more INO. I’ve missed Oberyn and his Sunshine so much - I hope you guys did too. More importantly, I hope you are ready for what’s t come! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d avoided going to dinner that night. You knew it was silly and immature and yes, you were acting every bit the child that Oberyn had accused you of being. But you couldn’t face him, not right then and there, and you knew that he would be busy with the others, and his mind would be occupied. Little did you know that his mind was indeed consumed, but it was consumed by thoughts of you and how he never wanted to see a single tear on your face again.

He’d never once even raised his voice at you, let alone to have gone that far and yelled at you. It was in the heat of the moment, you knew that much, but still...it just...hurt. But you’d discuss it with him later. Later when you were done acting like a child and crying yourself to sleep. It wasn’t just the raising of his voice that had jolted you, it was the fact that he was so keen about pushing away something that mattered to you.

“Oberyn,” the prince in question looked up from his plate and turned to the man that had uttered his name. He hadn’t eaten much, instead pushed his food around the plate, cutting the bits of food into virtual mush. With a light sigh he set down his fork, “what vexes you so? Where is your enchanting wife?”

“I’m afraid the issues are one and the same,” he admitted to the older man with a shrug of his shoulders, “I was a fool earlier, and raised my voice at her, completely out of turn. In the moment I was not thinking clearly and it just came out. Was I a smarter man I would have held my peace until I could think more rationally.”

“We all make mistakes,” he explained, “and surely it is to be expected within any marriage. Apologize to her and then listen to her words, I am sure she will understand. She seems like a level headed woman.”

“She is,” he agreed, “she that’s and a million more things.”

"Then you already know what to do," he gave Oberyn's shoulder a squeeze before giving him a gentle nudge towards the exit. The Prince nodded before rising to his feet and silently slipping away through the crowd.

It was not often that he was the one that needed to do the apologizing, but when it came to down to it, he was already beating himself up about it.

He was silent as he tried to figure out what to say, just exactly how to apologize that when he arrived at your chambers, he wasn't even sure what to say.

Knocking hesitantly, Oberyn paused in nervous anticipation when you didn't call for him to enter. Nevertheless, the prince pushed the door open and found the room shrouded in darkness with only a singular candle burning at his side of the bed. His heart clenched at the small gesture, knowingly you'd purposely left it burning for him.

At the sound of the disturbance, you stirred from your slumber, rubbing at your eyes as you sat up. Blinking away the bleariness, you turned to the door, "Oberyn?"

"Its me," he whispered softly, "its me, sweet girl."

Your heart lightened at the realization that it was your husband, and you pushed the covers back as you dashed over to him. He was one step ahead and met you halfway. Quickly wrapping you up in his arms, as you snaked your arms around his waist.

Burrowing your face into his neck, you took a moment to breath him in and soak it all up.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into your hair before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, "I'm sorry for exploding like that - the things I said. I shouldn't have said the things I did."

"Oberyn..." you pulled back and looked at him, placing your hands on either side of his face before gently kissing him, "you don't have to apologize. I...know you're only trying to protect me. But as your wife - your partner - you must know I want to be a part of the decision making process. I want to understand things, I want you to teach me. I want to know all the things I don’t know.”

"I will," he promised softly, pressing his forehead against yours, "whatever you want, I will do it. I am yours always and I will never yell at you again."

"I know," you whispered softly, "I know one little disagreement won't end us, Oberyn. I love you more than anything in this world, you know that."

And then he pulled back; he pulled back and looked at you with such an intensity it was like his golden flecked eyes were staring right into your soul. Your grip on his waist tightened before you crashed your lips onto his, a frenzied, hurried crescendo of tongue and teeth as you wanted to touch, taste, and feel all of him.

His large, warm hands went to the hollow of your throat as he hastily undid the tie of sheer robe covering your nightgown, letting it pool delicately at your feet. He kissed you again, with a sense of urgency, almost as if he was afraid if he let you go you'd disappear. Your pale golden gown was shimmied up and over your head in an instant.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered as he kissed your jaw and down your neck, stopping to swipe his tongue along your collarbones before you began tugging on his tunic, "my sunshine."

"And what about you, my moon and stars?" you giggled as he pulled back and hastily rid him of the confining clothing, "the most stunning man in the world."

"Flattering your old fool will get you nowhere," he teased, reaching down to give your bum a squeeze before placing you on the large, soft bed. You made a sound of delight as you hit the plush covers and blankets and he crawled over your frame.

"Oberyn," you pulled him down to your lips, kissing him in a searing, screaming way as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him against you. The sound he made, a moan so low and visceral sent shivers down your whole spine.

"I love you," he whispered against your soft skin, "and I love making love to you, but tonight I'm going to fuck you."

»»————-　♡　————-««

When you woke up, the warm salt air was filtering into the room, and you felt warm, so warm and happy. A contented sigh escaped your lips as your eyes opened and you reached for Oberyn. He chuckled lightly as he grabbed your hand and brought to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You grinned at him before he pulled you into his arms and you moved to lay on top of him. There was a dull but pleasant ache between your legs and you couldn't help but make a small sound of surprise.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he moved a hand down your form to cup your bum in his large hand, "sore?"

"In the best ways," you beamed at him before pressing a kiss to his chest, "I love you so much, Oberyn."

"Now you're just flattering me,” he huffed as you shook your head at him, “but I like hearing it anyway. It makes me feel…”

“So alive?” you asked as he nodded in agreement. You relaxed on top of him and stared out the window and into the beautiful azure water. A contented sound left your lips as Oberyn played with your hair, “I love it here. We must come back soon...perhaps we can bring the girls and everyone else.”

“They would love it,” he agreed with a soft chuckle, thinking fondly of how much he missed all of them, “it’s a plan then. We'll be back soon with everyone in tow.”

“Perfect,” you agreed, “even though I love it, but I’m ready to go home too. We have much to attend to.”

“We leave tomorrow,” he reminded you, “we should make the most of our remaining time here before the long journey back.”

“Starting with you,” you kissed him before grinding your hips down on his, “and letting me fuck you.”

“Sunshine.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Welcome home, my prince," Asha beamed at the two of you when she met your carriage outside upon your arrival back at Sunspear. She hugged you tightly, an excited look in her eyes, "my lady. We've missed you both terribly!"

"I'm sure things are ever the same," you promised her as your retinue started to unload your belongings, "do tell us, have we missed anything exciting?"

"I'm afraid not," she admitted with a sheepish grin. You nudged her shoulder gently with yours as you greeted a few people milling about, "business as usual. Although I think the twins are starting to get suspicious of what's happening!"

"That is most exciting, Asha! Our family is growing and our household is expanding," your heart felt light at the mention of the twins you would soon be able to call your own. Oberyn held your hand tightly, a wistful little smile on his face, "I can't wait to bring them home soon. What do you think, dear husband?"

"Whenever you're ready, the timing will be right," he promised as Jeron called for his attention. You offered the young man a wave of your own before gently pushing Oberyn in his direction, "are you sure?"

"Of course," you promised, "we've barely been apart in the last month, I think we'll manage an hour or two."

"As you wish," he leaned over and kissed you before heading over to his men, "until we meet again."

"So dramatic," you jokingly shook your head as you turned back to Asha, who was watching your every move intently. You looped your arm through hers as you headed inside.

"Seems like you two are getting along well," she had a knowing little smirk on her face as her gaze flitted over the faint love bites lingering on your skin. A warmth flushed over you but instead of shying away you nodded, "very well. I'm sure we'll be preparing for a new arrival in no time."

"Things have been going well..." you agreed with a soft smile as you listened to her words, not realizing their full implication until you a few moments later, "but that doesn't mean everything is perfect. There's always things we have to work through - we're as different as we are the same, Oberyn and I. But I think we'll always be able to figure it out. I hate to disappoint you, but I do think we need to worry about a new baby any time soon. Besides, the twins will be joining us shortly!"

"You are both very lucky I should think," Asha ushered you up the stairs and towards your shared bed chambers, "to have found one you can love so deeply and fully despite never intending to fall in love in the first place."

"I understand few things in this world," you admitted as you looked around the foyer and felt a sense of relief at being home wash over you, "but I do know that finding love in a marriage intended for convenience is extremely rare. I do not doubt however, that we were meant to find each other one way or another."

"A love story," the young girl sighed longingly, "I should only dream of having a love as deep and pure as yours one day. But if anything, it has taught me not to settle for nothing else."

"Always remember that," you insisted softly. You quickly closed the door to your chambers behind you, looking around first to make sure no one was lingering around. When the coast was clear, you went over to the girl and whispered in a hushed tone, "can I trust you, Asha?"

"Of course, my lady," she raised her eyebrows at your sudden need for quiet and secrecy. You put your hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, "is everything alright? Did something happen with you and the prince?"

"No, no, no," you promised, only half lying. Of course something had happened, but you weren't ready to go over all of that just yet. And it wasn't like things between the two of you had completely soured...no, this was just something you needed to do. With or without your husband's knowledge, "things are quite fine. I just...can you help me secure passage to Honeyholt? I must make haste and return to my ancestral home quickly."

"O-of course," she tilted her to head the side and offered you a confused look, "when do you need to leave? Is Oberyn coming? Did something happen with your family?"

"I must leave as soon as possible," you swallowed the lump in your throat, willing the nerves to go away, "I want to leave under the cover of the night - tonight. I'll be going by myself. Please just make sure a horse is ready and saddled by the back gardens. I'll figure out the rest."

"Night?" now she seemed suspicious and confused and you tried to play it off, "surely that must be more dangerous?"

"Don't worry, my sweet Asha," you gently brushed a few of her dark locks of hair out of her face, "everything is fine! It's pretty safe out here. I just thought it would be cooler and an easier journey through the evening. No big reason...Oberyn is...he knows. I do not wish to bother him with such trivial matters any more than need be."

"And Oberyn...your husband is not coming with you?"

"The Prince will have many duties to attend to upon our return," you were panicked but tried to play it cool, "any other time and he would come. But not this time, and like I said, its no big deal. You can help, right?"

"Of course, my lady," she gave a light bow, and you could tell from her expression that she had a million more questions on her mind. But you weren't about to answer those...not yet. You felt horrible for lying to her and for not telling Oberyn of your plans but you knew he'd never allow it, "I'll go and make preparations and allow you to settle in."

"Asha?" you reached for her hand before she could leave the room and she stopped in her tracks, "please don't mention this to anyone, especially Oberyn, I don't want to bother them unnecessarily..."

"As you wish," she promised as you offered up a small smile. Every worry and suspicion must have been raised, but she didn't say a word. You'd make it up to her, for dragging her into this and not telling her the truth, once the dust all settled, "I shall find you later."

She left again, and you quickly closed the door behind her retreating form, a long sigh escaping your lips. Your whole body was humming with nervous energy as you felt almost sick to your stomach with worry. Lying and sneaking around wasn't your style, you loathed the feeling it instilled in you - disgusting and anxious. But you had to do this - this was the only way.

After you made sure that no was coming, you dropped to your knees and reached under the bed, looking around for the one thing you had hidden. At the time you weren’t even sure why you’d placed it there, positive you’d never need it again, but now you were glad you’d had the forethought to do so. Feeling around for a moment, you grew panicked when you didn't feel it at first, but quickly made a small sound of triumph when your hand found the cool metal object.

You pulled it out and looked at it fondly; it was a beautiful thing - both intricately made and deadly as could be. It was a curved dagger, forged and handmade many years ago and passed down within the Beesbury lineage for many generations. It was a silver thing, sheathed in a golden yellow crystal housing, complete with the bee insignia of your family. It could easily take anyone down and due to the curvature of the blade, it would be painful. As far as you knew, it hadn’t been used for any sort of vengeance or violence in many eons, but it would still be deadly when wielded properly. Your father had passed it down to you before his untimely demise, opting to give it to you instead of one of your brothers.

Back then it had seemed like a keepsake, a memory of him to cherish forever, a small thing you had kept hidden and to yourself for some time now. Finally, it seemed, it could come in useful once again. A soft shudder left your lips as you lifted up your skirts and found a ribbon to strap the dagger to your thigh. You’d worry about finding some excuse not to undress in front of Oberyn later; you were sure there was some excuse you could come up with in order to avoid the seemingly nightly round of lovemaking that had been taking place.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you realized how much more you’d rather just stay home and push this all away; but you knew you could never leave it. If you did, it would plague you forever, constantly nagging at you. Oberyn, even after you’d meekly discussed what to do, still insisted upon a course of inaction. Even though you normally would have agreed, this was the one thing you were refusing to back down from. When it was all said and done, he would understand, he would know you had to do this…

A gentle knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts as you stood up and pulled your skirts back down. After a moment of silence, Oberyn opened the door and poked his head in, giving you a soft smile.

“Is everything alright, Sunshine?”

“Of course, my love,” you promised him, the pit in your belly stirring anxiously, “I’m just tired is all. I think I’ve been hit with a bout of tiredness from all the travel and returning to such a busy home.”

His brows furrowed for a moment as he tried to read the expression on your face. You’d never been a good actor, unable to conceal your emotions from your face, and you hoped for once it would work. You could also feign illness or...something. Instead, he gently reached over and put his hand on your cheek, before leaning over and placing a delicate kiss on your forehead.

“You’re right,” he agreed, that same easy smile he reserved for you and only you crossing his features. You felt a momentary sense of relief as you realized your little rouse worked, “it’s been a long day indeed. Perhaps we should both retire early this evening. There will be plenty of time for celebration later.”

“Indeed,” it became so easy to play along, like everything was normal and you weren’t about to completely go against his wishes, “besides, tomorrow will give us time to get the kids and everyone together. I wouldn’t want to rush them and have everything so last minute.”

“Wise as ever,” he whispered softly, letting his lips drift down to yours, kissing you with a gentle, saccharine taste, “dinner will be soon - we can retire after that.”

“That sounds perfect, my love.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest as you laid there in bed, trying to seem like you were sleeping. Oberyn was lightly snoring next to you, an arm curled around your waist as you planned on how to move out of his grip and slip out of the bed without him noticing. You went to bed in your clothes, claiming you were too tired to even bother removing them. Oberyn, seeming to be actually as tired as you felt, hadn’t questioned you, instead only pulling off his tunic as all but collapsed next to you and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Moving slowly, ever so gently as you lifted his arm up and scooted out from under him, replacing your body with one of the many pillows. He made a small sound and moved ever so slightly as you went and grabbed your cloak from the wardrobe. A heavy sigh left your lips as you watched his sleeping form; you hated lying to him and sneaking out, but it appeared you had no other choice. Tying the cloak around your neck, you ensured that the dagger was still strapped to your thigh as you quietly left the room.

Now all you needed was a clear coast as you navigate your way through the palace. Luckily it was late, very late, and almost the entirety of the household seemed to be sleeping. It made it a breeze to get towards the back, where the stables were, and where your favorite mare was waiting for you. It warmed your heart to see her, even under the less than desirable circumstances. She was hitched and ready to go, with her saddlebags filled with things you would need for your journey. Asha really had come through for you; you’d thank her a million times over when you got back, and make sure that Oberyn knew she was not privy to your real plans.

“Hi sweet girl,” gave her a few pets before kissing the side of her muzzle and hoping onto her back. It was so much easier to do this when Oberyn was around to help you...but no. You weren’t going to dwell on that right now, “we’ve got a ways to go, I hope you’re ready for an adventure.”

She made a small sound as you grabbed her reins and slowly spurred her on. As you started to lead her away from the palace, you turned around and cast one last look back at your home. You spied Asha lurking nearby in the shadows and cast her a small wave. She didn’t reciprocate, instead offering you only a small nod before turning back inside. Whatever happened next it would change things one way or another. Things would be different now.

But you could only look ahead as you headed towards Honeyholt.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Oberyn’s voice was thick with sleep as he rolled over and reached out for you. His brows knitted together before his eyes snapped open when he realized that you weren’t there, providing only silence and a cold, empty spot. He sat up and looked around, running a hand through his curls as he woke himself up. It was no matter, he quickly decided, despite the fact that nothing was better than waking up next to you, there were often mornings when he had to leave before you or vice versa as duty dictated. He dressed himself in silence as he figured he would see you at breakfast or sometime after. No reason to fret or worry.

It was another beautiful in Sunspear, the sun high and golden as it cast its warm light over everything it touched. He greeted a few members of his household, stopping by the kitchen to pop in and grab a handful of berries, chiding by the people working as usual, before making his way into the garden.

He picked the spot where the sun was the brightest and sat down, but not before preparing himself a plate of food. As he let the light warm him up from inside out, he decided that he later he’d take you to the ocean, if you were willing. He’d shown you a lot, but one of the places you hadn’t shared together was the beautiful Dornish coast. He just had a feeling you’d like it there, and that you could both swim in the crystalline waters together.

“Good morning, Uncle,” Arianne pulled him out of his thoughts as she announced her arrival and sat down next to him. He cast her a smile before grabbing a spoonful of fresh yogurt and putting it in his mouth, “it’s nice to have you both back. A little light around the place - say, just where is our favorite lady of the house?”

“I don’t...you haven’t seen her?” he asked as confusion muddied his features, “she wasn’t there when I woke up...I assumed she had risen earlier and already broken her fast?”

“I haven’t seen her,” she shook her head, as one of the people tended to the garden mentioned he’d been working all morning and hadn’t seen hide nor hair of you, “well, I’m sure it’s fine. She must be out and doing something in the town.”

“I suppose,” his heart skipped a beat as he tried to calm himself down and reassure himself that everything was fine. As he continued eating, a looming sense of doom washed over him…something was off, “no, no - this isn’t right. She wouldn’t do something like that. Not without telling one of us, or someone seeing her.”

“Perhaps someone has seen her,” she insisted as he all but jumped out of his seat, “there is no reason to worry.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he stormed inside and decided to find Asha. The young girl looked up to you, as both your friend and hand maiden, and if there was someone that knew where you were, it would be her. He looked around the palace, finding her hard to come by, almost as if she was making herself scarce.

Eventually, after seemed like a small eternity, he found her tending to the laundry that was drying outside. She seemed tired, quiet and keeping to herself, which was very unlike the young girl he knew, “Asha.”

She almost jumped and dropped the laundry in her arms as she spotted Oberyn walking over to her. She gave him a weak smile before dropping her head in respect, “Prince Oberyn.”

“Have you seen my wife?” he skipped the formalities and watched her face almost pale as she opened and closed her mouth a few times, “I haven’t seen her this morning, neither have people around the palace or Arianne. Perhaps you know of her whereabouts?”

“I-I-I have not seen her this morning,” she admitted, and while it wasn’t a complete lie, she immediately knew something was wrong. Her gut instincts had been right yesterday; you were going around Oberyn’s back and not being honest with either of them. Gods, she should have just listened to her inner voice and come to Oberyn. What was she supposed to do now?

“When did you last see her?” he asked as she racked her brain for an answer, “I need to know.”

“I...I spoke to her yesterday upon your return as you are aware,” she decided that beating around the bush was the best answer, “and she...I haven’t seen her since.”

“What happened? What did she tell you?” he wished he could shake the answers out of her but refrained, instead just looked at her with nervous eyes, “Asha…”

“She...ummm...I don’t know…”

“Where is my wife?!”

“Honeyholt,” she finally admitted after a few beats of silence as Oberyn’s heart sank. That was not what he’d been expected whatsoever. A million thoughts raced through his mind as nothing but panic and worry set into his bones, “she’s returning to Honeyholt.”

“I do not know if you understand the gravitas of the situation,” he grabbed her shoulders and she could easily spot the worry in his eyes, “but this is anything but good.”

“I’m sorry - I’m so sorry...she promised me that you knew…” she had started crying, a few tears running down her face.

“I need my own horse readied for departure. Post haste,” he told her, “but first I need you to tell me everything. Now.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #prince oberyn x reader #oberyn x reader #in name only #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #got

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ukeishin · 4 years ago

Text

⊹ skin and bones.

note: ig makki deserves love or whatever 🙄🙄

inspired by this headcanon from @/mintmatcha.

ft. hanamaki takahiro.

wc: 1.1k

warning: gn!reader, insecurities, body image issues, hurt/comfort, timeskip!spoilers

Hanamaki is comfortable with himself. He’s confident for the most part and knows how to play to his strengths. He has a good sense of humor, so he likes to think and so he’s been told. He takes pride in the fact that it’s easy for him to spark laughter from others. He doesn’t let things affect him too much, never one to linger on events that have occurred in the past or fret over all the possibilities that the future holds.

But like every other person, Hanamaki has his weaknesses and insecurities. He’s just better at hiding it than most.

He knows he’s not the most attractive person ever, but that’s not to say Hanamaki necessarily dislikes how he looks. It’s just being friends with Oikawa, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi in high school took its toll on him.

Objectively, Hanamaki knows his friends are attractive. He’s not blind. Oikawa had a whole fan club for fuck’s sake, but Matsukawa and Iwaizumi had their fair share of admirers as well. Hearing people talk about how everyone in your friend group is hot besides you doesn’t exactly boost one’s confidence. Hanamaki can’t recall how many times he thought a girl liked him, just for her to not so subtly ask if he could hook her up with one of his friends.

And that feeling stuck with Hanamaki even after he moved on from high school and graduated from college and met you. Standing in front of the mirror in your shared bathroom, Hanamaki’s body comes under scrutiny. His body’s changed a lot from high school. He’s put on some weight, evident by the slight pudge of his stomach and arms. His friends still look as great as ever, he thinks bitterly to himself. Oikawa’s a fucking pro-athlete while Iwaizumi’s an athletic trainer and Matsukawa? Well, Matsukawa’s Matsukawa.

“What are you doing Hiro?” Your gentle question has Hanamaki swiveling around to look at you. You’re leaning against the frame of the door, head tilted with a soft, knowing look on your face.

Hanamaki’s quick to slip on the t-shirt he has clutched in between his hands. “Was just checking myself out. You know, admiring my beauty?” He jokes, hoping that you won’t comment on what you saw. He thought you would still be out right now, catching up with one of your friends who you haven’t seen in a while. He must have spent more time looking in the mirror than he thought if you were home already.

“Hiro.” You place a hand on his arm, preventing him from putting on his shirt the rest of the way. “Can you take your shirt off for me, baby?”

He pauses. Slowly, Hanamaki inches his shirt up over his head and peels it off. He tenses underneath your light touch. Your palms hover over his chest before you reach up to entwine your fingers together behind his neck.

“Babe, if you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask,” Hanamaki jests, trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re beautiful, Hiro.”

Hanamaki isn’t quick enough to suppress the disbelieving scoff that escapes from his lips. Your brows furrow upon hearing the noise, prompting you to look at your boyfriend’s face, who’s pointedly looking away from you.

“Hiro, you know I love you, right?” Your hands slip from behind his neck to rest against his smooth cheeks. You gently tilt his head until he’s looking in your direction.

“Course I do. I love you too,” he quietly replies. Despite the situation, you can’t help the way your lips slope up into a small smile. You’re sure that you’ll never grow tired of hearing Hanamaki say those words.

“And since I love you that means I love you in your entirety. Your perceived flaws and all.” Hanamaki’s hands on your hips tighten, his nails digging almost painfully through the fabric of your shirt, but you don’t pay attention to the slight pain. Your attention is wholly devoted to the man in front of you, who you only wish could see himself the way you do.

Because to you, Hanamaki Takahiro is not perfect in the slightest.

He’s messy, always forgetting to tuck his shoes neatly in the designated spot by the door and leaving a trail of dirty laundry around your home more often than not. When you try and reprimand him about it, he only offers you a sheepish grin that looks completely unrepentant while telling you it won’t happen again. (It does happen again. And again. And again.)

He’s loud. When you’re attempting to get work done in the room that the two of you have designated as your office, you can still hear him playing his video games in the living room even if the door is closed. It’s irritating when all you want is peace and quiet so you can get some shit done and you can hear your boyfriend cursing out his friends for “sucking ass.”

But the thing is, even if Hanamaki isn’t perfect, which you never expected of him, you still love him completely.

Because Hanamaki’s considerate. Whenever you’re in a group and others drown out your voice, whether knowingly or unknowingly, and you’re left thinking that you’re better off just not speaking at all, Hanamaki is there by your side, prompting you to continue your thought. Because even if no one else wants to listen to what you have to say, you know that Hanamaki does, no matter how pointless you may believe it is.

He makes your day so much better without even realizing it. The countless dumb memes he sends throughout the day make you giggle and snort and shake your head, wondering how Hanamaki has such a large collection of cursed memes, seemingly for every possible occasion. And even though they’re dumb and stupid, they make you laugh and remind you that Hanamaki’s thinking of you.

And he’s so beautiful to you. You can feel the skepticism and doubt radiating off of his form, but Hanamaki is truly beautiful in ways that you cannot fathom. The smattering of freckles that litter his skin, the unbelievably pinkish hue of his hair, the soft curves of his arms and legs and stomach - you love it all.

Because you love him.

“I’m going to list some of the reasons I love you so much. Not all, because then we’d be standing here for an eternity.” That earns you a snort from Hanamaki. It’s not much, but you’re glad to see that his shoulders have relaxed the slightest bit. He pulls you closer until your chests are flush together and his forehead is touching yours.

“I think I can spare the time to listen.”

tagging: @babyworld.

#hanimehub #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #hq scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #hq drabbles #hanamaki takahiro x reader #hanamaki x reader #celeste.scribs #celeste.adores #adoring.hanamaki

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halcyon-writings · 4 years ago

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i checked this list and it said persona so im hoping this is still ok. Date night with the protagonists? (Makoto, Yu and Ren) please and thank you >///

ー『anonymous: Can i get dating headcanons for the persona protags (Makoto, Yu and Ren) please and super thank yous. I love these boys so much. ;A;』

note(s): I am going to combine these requests as they are similar enough I hope that is alright! no real warnings for this one either, I just think these dudes are neat. Also I know they all have like 5 different names, so I just went with the ones I am more familiar with. Maybe(????) spoilers for 3, 4, and 5, so if you haven’t finished or played them, be warned (although, idk if anyone would read it if they haven’t played the respective game but idk warning for spoilers just in case) also idk how i feel about these hcs rn, but i did my best dhdjdj

all my other links can be found in my navigation post!! If you like my writing and you’d like to support me, my tip jar is also linked there!

hcs under the cut so i’m not clogging anyone’s dash (originally these were gonna be a short set of hcs but i guess not dbdndn)

What our dear protagonist lacks in overall extrovertedness, he makes up for in action. Surprise surprise, dates can either range from hanging out in the dorms and cooking a nice meal together. Or maybe going to the mall and heading to the arcade. Or basically wandering around until your legs hurt and your purchases range from new outfits to weird antiques from the antique shop.

However he really does treasure these little trinkets, because the memory of your laughter when you were given a certain item will forever be ingrained in his mind. It’s a comfort in the end too.

Date nights are focused on you and you only. He definitely sets a date where he knows you both are free so that there’s less likely of a chance for being interrupted. He definitely wouldn’t want his time with you to be wasted. Although seeing his small pout when it does happen is very cute.

You also gotta be keen on if he sees something he likes and wants. While Minato won’t exactly say it, his gaze lingers a bit longer than usual. But he ultimately won’t get it, because he wants to focus on you and also save up for when the group goes to Tartarus. So if you surprise him with whatever he had wanted, he’s so happy.

While he is slightly more reserved in comparison to Yu and Akira, Minato speaks through action. Whenever you two are walking together, he always has your hand in his, or keeping close by in some way. He likes to cling to you when it’s just you two, his head buried in the crook of your neck as you two nap tother, legs tangled up together. Or the small jokes he says loud enough for only you to hear, but they’re still so funny. Sometimes you’re asked if he’s really a good boyfriend, and you have to laugh off the doubt, because they don’t see the sides of him that you do.

My god. Yu would absolutely be the best at arranging dates and hangouts. I take no criticism. Like you guys could literally just be walking all around Inaba, or just sitting by the river bed and it could be one of the greatest times you’ve both had together. A romantic at heart, Yu would also be a bit cheesy in arranging dates.

He shows affection through communcating it. Whether it’s a new outfit or something, he’ll say that you look incredible or if you’ve studied for a hard exam, he’ll make sure you know how amazing you are for passing. Idk just anything that has you smiling from sweet compliments and other words of affirmation. A big sap, honestly you try and joke about it but he just earnestly says “Who wouldn’t be for you?” And you have to sit down and hide your face in your hands for a solid 5 minutes.

You also gotta be cool with Nanako. But then again she’s a cute kid and a sweetheart so idk why you wouldn’t be. Although he does get a little flustered if it’s you two watching her while Dojima-san is working late at the station and the old ladies coo over how you three look like a mini family yourselves. Which is kind of a common occurrence. And I feel like Yu would know pretty well if he sees a future with someone he’s with, and with you he does shhh

Date nights in Inaba are really fun and a good way to wind down, sometimes it’s wandering Junes and finding whatever the newly advertised, as seen on tv appliance is. Or other parts of the shopping district, where he can really let go and just have fun for himself. When not worrying about school work or the cases the Investigation Team is working on.

some spoilers here; but after Izanami is defeated and the year ends. When Yu has to leave Inaba it doesn’t mean that he won’t put his best efforts to keep up the relationship. If possible, video calls or just the occasional text too. And when he visits, while he does miss his friends, he’s especially antsy to see you too. And when you’re both together again, he refuses to leave your side.

Now, Akira can be described as this suave, casanova type character. But he’s also a giant dork and you know it, he knows it, the Phantom Thieves all know it, hell even Sojiro knows it. It doesn’t mean his attempts at flirting doesn’t get you blushing. And when he sees the flustered expression, it only motivates him to keep going. But turn the tables on him, and he’s putty in your hands. (And he looks very cute).

Because of the way you met, aka, at Shujin, where his reputation was basically over and done with before it even began, he has a lot of doubt and trust issues, what if someone dared you to speak to the “criminal” or something? While he won’t show these doubts out loud to his friends, it’s still something he thinks back on a lot. But when you defend him vehemently one day, he knows he was right to trust you.

A part of dating Akira, is eventually finding out who he is. Maybe trips to Mementos cause him to be late to dates or not even show up at all. You end up stood up more often then not once things begin to get really serious. From small time school teachers to the literal Yakuza (and eventually a candidate for Prime Minister, and a god), you don’t know where he is. And that becomes really stressful because then the doubt™️ sets in.

To make this less angsty and more funny, imagine you know from figuring it out. He’s suspiciously watching the news on the PT, and no offense to Ryuji, he’s not the most quiet. So he’s so nervous trying to tell you when you’re just “yeah I know, sorry for not telling you, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to know.” and he’s just the surprised pikachu face.

As for date nights, the city is your oyster. I’d say the world but mans still currently has a criminal record so probably not yet. But he’s gonna take you wherever you want. Whether it’s a themed cafe, or just the streets of Shinjuku, as you take in all the sights from the bright places, he’s willing to do whatever for you. That includes facing off kids at the arcade for a stuffed plush you saw and admitted it was cute. He is a man on a mission. And you cannot stop him. So you both end up back at Leblanc at the end of the night carrying your plushies and eating some curry that Sojiro left warming for you. That even includes the Big Bang Burger challenge he will do it for you , even though you probably do laugh at his pain after but you still coo and praise his efforts.

After he goes back home, record clean and world hopefully peaceful. Virtual dates become a thing, either just sitting and talking while having dinner or something is nice. He still loves to say those cheesy pickup lines that had you hiding your flustered expression as you walked through the streets of Shibuya on call. You only hung up on him once but he quickly called back and was very pouty about it. You were forgiven though with the promise of giving many kisses when he visits.

#persona imagines #persona x reader #persona 3 imagines #persona 3 x reader #minato arisato x reader #persona 4 imagines #persona 4 x reader #yu narukami x reader #persona 5 imagines #persona 5 x reader #akira kurusu x reader #mine

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strawbabysimp · 4 years ago

Text

Sous-Chef || Jealous!Zoro x Reader

Genre: Light Angst

Category: Jealous!Zoro x GN!Reader

Warning(s): Misunderstandings, Obsessive Working Out, Relationship Insecurities

Request(s): "Hello!!! I found your blog a few days ago and I felt like I absolutely had to make a HC request! Your writing is amazing!! Do you think you can do a HC on Zoro having a partner who likes to cook and shares the kitchen with sanji? maybe a little jealousy?"

A/N: I started this as headcanons but I got a bit carried away and it became a fic~ I hope you don't mind💕

"Those two are getting along pretty well, huh?"

Zoro looked up from his lap, his drift into slumber interrupted by the long-nosed sniper's words. His brow furrowed in confusion before following Usopp's gaze, catching sight of you and Sanji laughing amongst yourselves about something he wasn't privy to by the kitchen door. He wasn't surprised to see you there, often spotting you alongside the chef cooking up some new recipe he didn't understand the specifics of but would end up eating nonetheless. At his Nakama's lack of response, Usopp hurried to calm down the already cool-headed man. "Not that anything's, ya know, happening, or anything like that! I didn't mean that- I mean... You know what I meant." Zoro shrugged off his concerns inturn for returning to his attempt at sleep, this time without interruption from his crewmate.

He fell asleep to the sound of laughter.

~~~

The next day was interesting, having woken up to the shuffling of clothes and hushed voices. His senses were keen and he picked up on the ones responsible for the disturbance immediately. What were you and Sanji doing?

"Hurry up before you wake up the Marimo. I have something to show you!" The cook's voice was raspy in his attempt at quietness and Zoro was tempted to steal a peek at whatever was so interesting you had to get up before sunrise to see. "Shhhh!" You scolded the other man's insistent words.

Right after the initial shock of this wore off, a much more cynical thought made its way into his head.

He wasn't welcome. That's why you hadn't woken him up. That's why he couldn't come along with you, clinging close to your side in the morning air as you laughed off the curly-brow's stare of discontent at the sight of him. Whatever this thing between you and Sanji was, Zoro had no place in it and that notion was supported by the both of you. Zoro wasn't welcome in this part of your life, even as a spectator, and you had made sure of that.

You stepped out the door and his heart ached. He wasn't mad - not at you at least. He was confused. He hated being confused. Anger at least meant he understood the situation, but right now, he was left alone in the bed you and he were meant to share, feeling far too lonely for a man whose partner was just outside.

You came back in after some time, getting back into bed with a content sigh, the heat of his body warming you up from the cold dawn air. He was stiff beside you and you called his name in a low voice. He didn't respond to your questioning tone and you gave a soft smile to his relaxed face.

Zoro could only sense your stare, not your feelings, and turned over with a small, well-placed groan.

~~~

The light shined through under the door and it was Zoro's turn to wake up before you. It had to have been a few hours since your mysterious departure and return to the room and while he was still plagued by the many questions your actions left in his mind, no good could be done laying around.

He quickly got ready for the day, fixing his clothes in the mirror for a split second before heading out to the deck. The smell of food hit him and he knew that whatever the cook was making was going to be good. Not a surprise. Despite the pleasant aroma, his calm mood shifted and he wanted nothing more than to get away from the tell-tale signs of breakfast.

"Zoro!"

Your voice rang across the deck and his chest tightened. He turned around to face you, the soft smile on your face a welcome sight no matter any internal struggles he was facing. He knew trust was a difficult and sometimes fatal thing but he truly did have faith in the fact you wouldn't do anything to hurt him. This was his own issue. He trusted you(and Sanji but he wasn't about to say that).

He put off his training for a later time, the cook calling out that food was ready soon after you had approached him. Everyone quickly gathered and as the food was placed down, forks at ready to fend off their Captain's gluttonous hands, the Strawhats dug in. Your thigh was pressed against Zoro's and in the approaching winter island weather - and truly any instance at all - the contact was most welcome. Zoro poked at your plate playfully, expecting a laugh as he half-heartedly went for your food, but was surprised to see it garnered no reaction. His eyes traveled up your neck and he spotted your upturned lips which had a small smile of his own gracing his face, but as he looked at your eyes he realized you weren't paying attention to him in the slightest. You were looking at Sanji. And he was smiling back.

The pleasant expression on the swordman's face dropped away and he went back to eating, catching Robin's eye whilst doing so. The two shared a blank look and Zoro nodded at her before continuing his meal.

Your cheek pressed against his shoulder as he chewed around his fork, the warmth that filled him at the action burning in a masochistic sort of way. He knew he should talk to you but some part of him was scared of the answer and avoiding feelings was something Zoro did best. Be logical and win. That's all he had to do. But was there even something to win? And if so, hadn't Sanji already won?

The affectionate gesture received no reaction just as his had before and you removed yourself from his warmth.

~~~

Breakfast ended and with a quick press to your forehead Zoro was off, no doubt going to train up until lunch. The smile you received was tender yet rushed and you tried to trust in the fact that Zoro would come to you if something was wrong. Confronting him made him uncomfortable and you tried to avoid that when possible, giving him a place to express himself freely without forcing it out of him.

You made your way back into the kitchen, asking Sanji if he needed help with anything. He turned down your offer politely, content with the process of making the crew drinks on his own, but at the look on your face, he changed his mood. Directing you off into the food storage to get him some supplies, what he had originally planned to be a simple hot chocolate was now turning into an assortment of treats. He could tell you needed something to distract you and what better than cooking alongside the ship's gifted chef to soothe your need for occupation.

The snacks practically made themselves, you and Sanji working in sync as you gave the occasional comment or request. By the time it was done, there laid mugs of hot chocolate topped with fresh whipped cream and an assortment of cookies for everyone to choose from that would hopefully satisfy them until lunch was ready.

Sanji took the liberty of handing out the food to the ladies, stopping by Chopper as well because who could resist the cuteness of the blue-nosed creature. It was hard to believe anyone could consider him anything other than adorable perfection. You were of course stuck with the boys, balancing the dishes as you handed them off with a word of thanks from the recipients - or the occasional attempt at grabbing another serving.

The only person left was Zoro and when you didn't find him in his usual napping spot you crossed the deck with a sigh. That man truly was too predictable.

"Hey Y/N! Looking for Zoro?" Usopp questioned, the chocolatey drink coating his upper lip as he smiled. You nodded. "He said he wanted to be left alone to train. I'll graciously take his food though!" The sniper reached out for the goods, taking them from your frozen hands as you frowned. You always delivered Zoro's food to him when he trained, even if it went cold he ate it just so you would stop by to bring it to him. Maybe something really was wrong with your boyfriend.

~~~

Zoro's muscles ached under the strain of the weights, he had lost count of the reps by now and had no intention of stopping any time soon. His arms begged him to put them down, already far surpassing his goal for the workout session, but he couldn't. He found peace in the rhythmic movements and the pain only seemed to calm his mind. The endorphins in his brain fueled him on and he could easily see himself becoming addicted to the act; if he wasn't already that is.

All the anger and confusion faded into the background as his body screamed at him to stop. The sweat dripped down his face and the plain white shirt he adorned was soaked through with the moisture. He would have taken it off but that would require a break and that wasn't something his mind allowed at the moment. He let the fabric cling to his body as he focused on the movements.

A knock at the entrance had him dropping the heavy equipment without a second thought, looking over to where he had set his swords. He worked to catch his breath, the pain in his chest yet to subside due to the lengths he had pushed himself when the smell of tobacco flooded his senses.

"What are you doing, Marimo?" Sanji said without his usual instigating tone, the cigarette balanced against his lip as he spoke. The declared "Marimo" huffed, not happy to be interrupted by the main cause of his grief.

"Get out."

"I'll leave when you get your grassy head out of your ass and stop doing whatever it is you're doing."

"And what exactly am I doing, Cook?"

Sanji shot him a look, annoyed by his Nakama's false ignorance. His next words weren't a suggestion. "Fix this."

He turned around without another word, leaving Zoro alone once again, his only company being the cigarette smoke lingering in the air as a cruel reminder of the other's words.

~~~

Zoro didn't have the will to leave the space, the workout equipment surrounding his now near-sleeping form. He knew avoiding the issue would only make it worse but the comfort of being alone to dwell in his ill feelings was too tempting to resist. Just as he was about to lay down for a quick nap a knock broke him out of his wallowing state. Could he not get an ounce of peace on this damn ship?

His eyes widened at the person approaching.

"Y/N?"

"The one and only," you said in a somber voice, approaching the man. You weren't used to the lack of alcohol flooding your senses as you got close. He always smelled a bit of the drink and the small difference had you shifting on your feet, only adding to the uncomfortable mess of the situation.

You sighed, tugging Zoro up and along behind you as he simply gazed at you in confusion. He wanted to rip his arm away from your grasp, not a fan of being grabbed so harshly, but the lack of physical contact between you two left him a little more lenient if it meant he could touch you.

The trek to the food storage was silent, the tension between you two lessening slightly despite no words being exchanged. You caught a few looks from the others, some sending concerned frowns or even a stern glare from Sanji directed at your boyfriend. He didn't come in here often unless it was to steal alcohol - he came in here pretty often - and the way his eyes shifted around the room made it obvious he was uncomfortable with the situation yet decided to stay to see whatever this was through.

You let go of his arm to make your way over to the corner, pulling a box into view that had Zoro walking over himself to see. The top came off with a crack and you moved over slightly so he could get a better look from beside you. The container was filled with what looked to be little balls of algae but couldn't possibly be from how they sat on top of one another.

"Sanji found these on the last island. He said they reminded him of you, well, he said they looked like some sort of moss ball which is basically the same thing-"

Your words faded off into the background as Zoro peered down at the box, the contents staring back at him mockingly. He picked one of the fruits up, surprised at the hard exterior, and turned to face you.

"Is this why you snuck off yesterday?"

God, he felt stupid.

"Snuck off?" Your eyes widened in realization.

"It was supposed to a surprise! I thought maybe I could make you something with them. I would never... What did you think was happening?"

Zoro met your gaze with a shrunken expression. His words sounding pitiful to his own ears. "I didn't know what to think Y/N," his hand came up to card through his hair as his eyes shut, "I didn't want to think anything."

You gave a soft smile, knowing the conversation could get far too grim at a time that was supposed to be pleasant. "Sanji wanted to show these to me. I think he wanted to do something nice for us. He can be a bit of a dick," Zoro laughed at your words, "but he's sweet." There was a million different things he could say in that moment to counteract your words but decided against it. The weight that had been crushing his ribs finally dispersed and with a smirk he asked, "So, what can you make with these?"

You grinned, going off on a tangent about all the things you and Sanji had tried, the swordsman watching with bright eyes at the enthusiastic verbal reenactment of your cooking trials.

#Zoro #Zoro x Reader #One Piece #OP #Anime #Roronoa Zoro #Gender Nuetral Reader

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dameronology · 4 years ago

Text

cold coffee in the morning {poe dameron}

summary: aka the one where you and poe can't seem to work out your commitment issues, and also the one where c3po is the unsung hero (based loosely on the song by ed sheeran)

warnings: language, brief innuendos

enjoy! idk why i'm writing this at 3am but we mooooove

- jazz xx

Poe Dameron had never needed another person before - then he met you, and the idea of ever existing as an independent being for the rest of his living years had suddenly seemed like the most unappealing thing since Luke Skywalker's blue-milk cheesecake. The way you'd whirlwhinded into his life with your gorgeous smile and contagious laugh had knocked the usually-suave pilot completely and utterly onto the floor. Bruised ass aside, he wasn't mad about it. He was happy to have you in his life in whatever way you'd let him.

And what way that was exactly, he didn't know.

You were friends; close, close friends. Bonded for life through your shared goofy humour and seemingly-endless banter. Then you did things that friends didn't normally do - at least not in Poe's experience - and you would act like it was nothing. As if your nights spent together and the whispers you lost between the sheets meant as much to you as the things you did for your other friends, like stopping Finn from tripping on his shoe laces or picking up R2-D2 when he toppled over. It was as though every-time you crossed that line, you immediately regretted it; then, a few days later, you'd decide that you missed Poe, and you'd repeat the same mistake again and again, like you were trapped in a time loop of love and pain.

The feeling would stay with Poe for days; your hands tangled in his hair, his skin against yours, laughter rippling through clashing teeth and soft lips. The way you fell beside each other, sharing highs and secrets and inside jokes; the way you would reference one of your late night talks in shared conversations with friends, and his brown eyes would flick to the ground, cheeks burning red at the fact you'd remembered. It made his heart-rate pick up and palms sweaty.

And sometimes, just sometimes, it would make up for the way you'd leave in the morning; the way he'd arise to find a you-size hole in his bed and heart, and a cup of half-finished caff on the side. With his brain tinged with the remains of a hangover from the previous night, he'd pour the cold beverage down the sink and go about his day.

Poe did manage to catch you one morning; he'd purposely set his alarm so that he would stir earlier than you and rest assured, you were still dead to the world when he came around. The sun outside was still rising, the sky a dull pink-and-blue, the day fresh with hope and brimming with potential for heartbreak. It felt unnatural to see you quiet and peaceful, and not running your mouth and poking fun at anyone who would listen. There was a reason that C3PO avoided you like the plague - it wasn't his fault he was an easy target.

"You watching me sleep, creep?" You murmured.

"Just enjoying the view." Poe replied. He rolled over, crossing his arms behind his head. "You're usually gone by the time I'm awake."

You peeled one eye open, your one-eyed glare enough to send a shiver down his spine. "Don't be passive aggressive, Poe. Just say it."

"Isn't it a little early to be so feisty?"

"Isn't it a little early to make back-handed comments?" You shot back.

"Sorry. I was trying to find a way to bring up such a touchy subject."

You reached across to squeeze his check. "And you did a great job, curly."

"Alright, that's enough of that." He swatted your hand away. "I did want to talk to you about it, though."

"What is there to talk about?" You sat up, brow furrowing.

"You're confusing." Poe began. "During the day, we're friends. At night, you can't keep your hands off of me."

"It's kind of sexy and mysterious." You tried to joke.

"Sexy and mysterious is tiring."

"Sexy and mysterious is also late for work." You quipped.

You rolled out of bed, reaching for your strewn clothes. Without thinking, you pulled one of Poe's shirts over your head, grabbing your boots and socks. So many of his clothes had just snuck their way into your wardrobe - all of your friends had noticed it, but none of them commented on it. Everybody knew that there was something going on between you, but they were wise enough than to point it out. There had been one new guy who tried to ask, but he'd quickly been shut down.

"I'll see you tonight?" You asked, tugging on Poe's your jacket.

His brown eyes lingered on the floor for a moment, before flicking towards you, holding your gaze in a chokehold. "I don't think we should do this again."

You wavered for a moment, a wave of guilt clouding your judgement for a moment. This had never been about feelings - at least not for you. It had just a bit of fun; a bit of fooling around with a hot pilot. You hadn't meant to get in so deep, or get to a point where you were dismissing his feelings in favour of your own. It was more of a survival instinct than anything - breaking his heart to save your own.

That was it: lack of trust, presence of fear. All things that stopped you taking the full plunge, simply for the worry of letting him hurt you - or worst, you hurting him. Maybe it was a little late to start worrying about the latter. That ship had sailed a long time ago. Maybe it had sunk too.

"Poe-" you began, before pausing. "I have a lot going on in my life. I just don't have room for anything real right now."

"I thought the same." He was still staring right at you. "So I made room."

"It's not that simple." You reminded him. "It's not like...decluttering a room. I can't just Marie Kondo that shit and declare my love for you."

Poe froze at the mention of the L-word. It had been an elephant in the room for a long, long time - but it was outdone by the presence of bigger elephants. Like the ongoing war, and the fact that mortality had never seemed so fucking relevant. It was something you wanted to put a pin in for later, but later wasn't something that was guaranteed these days.

"Fine." He shrugged. "Good talk."

The guilt weighed on your brain for days, like a lead hat made of bullshit and regret.

You hadn't realised how much of a hole Poe Dameron left in your life until he was gone -- it was massive, like someone had broken into your home and ripped out two of the walls during a harsh winter storm. Everything felt a little colder and more confusing, and the amount of times you'd had to resist temptation to find him and beg for forgiveness was astounding.

The only reason you hadn't done so was because you knew what you would have to do. Give into your feelings, and let yourself become fully and entirely his. Let him into your life and into your heart. All the bullshit you'd spewed about not having room had been just that: bullshit. You didn't need to make room for him in your heart when he, entirely and wholly, was your heart. And he'd taken a little bit of it with him when he walked away - well, when you'd walked away.

Is this how it felt to be the villain?

"Is everything okay, master?" The sound of your favourite droid brought you back to the present. "You're being uncharacteristically quiet. On average, you've usually said 356 words by 9AM."

"You keep count?" You glanced up from your paperwork, eyebrow quirked. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Eight of ten times that you've said that, you haven't been fine-"

"- just give it a rest, Threepio." You cut him off. "Please?"

"If there's anything I can help with, let me know." He replied. "A droid's logic can be surprisingly helpful."

"I'm fine but thank-" you stopped in your tracks, pondering for a moment.

Logic. That was certainly something you lacked - the part of your brain that was supposed to be rational was too busy thinking about hot pilots.

"Master?"

"Sorry." You blinked. "Maybe I'll have your input on something."

"Please, go on."

"I love someone and he loves me." You said. "It's just very complicated."

"If a problem can be reduced down to seven words, I would not class that as a problem." Threepio said. "I would say a problem is at least thirty words or more."

You thinned your eyes at him. "What are you saying, goldilocks?"

"Perhaps, your problem is only a problem because you think it is." He replied. "When you lay things out and look at them logically, it can make more sense."

"Logic isn't my strong-point. You know that better than anyone."

"You love Master Dameron and he loves you-"

"- I never mentioned names."

"My apologies." Threepio said. "I was simply reading the room."

"Right."

"Remove your emotions, and those are the facts." He continued.

It was bad enough when Poe was right, but it was even worse when C3PO was. But, for all his theatrics and whining, he was right. Decisions made with logic rather than emotion always had a better outcome. It was plain and simple: you and Poe loved one another. Everything else - your fear and his dismissiveness and your collective confusion - only existed because you let it. But your feelings for each other? That was something you couldn't help.

"Right - thanks." You murmured. "I'll be right back."

You quickly stood up, tossing aside your datapad and immediately exiting the room. The base was small, and Poe was never that far away, even when the room was on the furthest side of the base. It was also your favourite place in the entire camp; it was covered in photos of you and him and your friends, and it was always warm. The mixture of sentimental clutter and little knick-knacks, paired with the gentle smell of his aftershave clinging to the sheets and clothes scattered around, made it feel like an actual home.

You didn't bother knocking - that formality had gone out the window long ago. Instead, you took a deep breath and gently opened the door. There was no certainty that he would even be in - you could only hope. The chances of him being anywhere else were pretty slim.

They'd worked in your favour today, because Poe was stood by his coffee machine, a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was wild and curly and there were still drops of water on his back.

He turned around when he saw you, brow furrowing. Mostly because he had never seen you so breathless and sweaty, but also because he hadn't expected you to ever talk to him again. He'd always known you to stick by your decisions - he normally admired your stubbornness, but as of recent, it had been fucking exhausting.

"Hi-"

"- I love you." You suddenly blurted. "Hi."

"I-" Poe paused, putting down his coffee. "What?"

"I love you. More than anything in the world, ever." You shrugged. "That terrifies me, but I can deal with fear."

"You can. You're pretty bad-ass." He casually nodded.

"Right." You smiled. "I'm sorry it took me so long to say that."

"Hey, it's okay." He gently smiled. "Come here."

You met half way across the room, bodies colliding in a tight hug. His warm, post-shower skin felt like heaven against yours, large hands dragging up and down your back. He consumed everyone one of your senses at once, but mostly, he consumed your ability to think. Your brain was so over-loaded with feelings that the rest of it completely broke down and malfunctioned - kind of like the time you spilt coffee on BB-8.

"I love you too, by the way." Poe gently murmured. You let out a small chuckle.

"I know." You smiled.

"What made you say it now?"

"Threepio said something about logic." You muttered. "The only logical thing for two people who love each other to do is be together, right?"

"I mean, I can think of other things-"

"- Poe!" You whacked his shoulder.

It was though you had untangled your feelings, and the only thing left was a line that went straight from him to you.

"You're right." Poe said. "Thank you for realising it."

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you for being patient."

"It's worth it." He couldn't help but grin. "Do you want some caff? It's still warm."

tags: @anetteaneta @poestardust @marvelinsanity

#i want a POE now please #idk why i even wrote this #hoe well #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron blurb #poe dameron x reader #poe imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fluff #star wars x you #star wars angst #star wars imagines

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