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sansaorgana · 4 months ago

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— LADY OF THE ROSES (I)

PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — When Lord Tyrell organizes a huge tournament, the rumour has it that the winner might get his eldest daughter's hand in marriage. When she finds out that certain twins are not playing fair and are scheming together with her father to win, she finds herself a champion she wants to succeed instead – Ser Gwayne Hightower, who was sent by his father to win the tournament.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. Although I am not sure if we have even seen them in House of The Dragon, so they can literally look like anything...? 🤔 Thank you so much for reading my last fic with Gwayne and leaving lovely comments and messages! 🌹 It inspired me to write for him again and I already have more ideas for him and a Tyrell Lady Wife (although I don't think the fics will be connected, so they can be read separately). For some reason it makes SO MUCH SENSE to me for Gwayne to have a wife from Highgarden! Some sexual things are mentioned here but there is no actual smut, so I didn't put the warnings. 😉

WORD COUNT — 5,040

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (I)

Beautiful courtyards of Highgarden were filled with tents and knights. The sound of horses and clinging armour reached your ears as you were taking a stroll between the tents – against your father’s wish. He didn’t want you to walk freely around all those knights but you had your own guards and your curiosity had no match because you knew perfectly well what that expensive and flashy tournament was about.

You were in the right age to marry – some would say the age was more than right, too right even. You were Lord Tyrell’s eldest daughter and out of all the three sisters, you were the only one who still remained unmarried. The reasons behind that were two. First of all, you were a picky and proud Lady. Second of all, you didn’t want to leave Highgarden and The Reach.

Your father hoped that your marriage would create a powerful alliance and as a daughter of The Lord Paramount of the Reach and The Warden of the South, you were quite a catch for your suitors. Walking amongst them, you saw them turning around and staring at you with smirks. You were the only Lady around and your pale green dress was showing off just enough of your virtues in a typical Highgarden fashion. There were golden roses in your hair and golden eyeshadow on your eyelids as you were all dolled up for the first day of the tournament.

You took a turn around the Lannister tent and you hissed at the sight of your father. Thankfully, he was not looking in your direction and you managed to hide behind your guards but you ordered them to stand still. You wondered why your father was even by the Lannister tent. Talking so openly to one of the knights participating in the tournament was a clear favouritism.

“Thank you, Lord Tyrell, your support means a lot,” Lord Lannister said and you tried to see him better from between your guards’ shoulders. You didn’t like him at all since arrogance was written all over his face.

“It is no secret for all the men here that I would like you to win. It is a formality,” your father lowered his voice. “An alliance between such big houses… It would make us both stronger,” he put his arm around The Lannister. “But I liked the idea of the tournament. It has splendour, don’t you think? I like to show off,” you father grinned.

“As I said before, I am no knight. My younger twin brother is,” Lord Lannister said and your father looked around before shushing him and they both entered the tent.

Curiously, with furrowed brow, you peeked inside the tent despite your guards’ protests. And you nearly gasped at the sight of another man inside who was being prepared for the tournament as a squire was putting his armour on. He looked identical to the man your father was talking to.

“My brother, Ser Tyland, will pretend to be me during the tournament. No one will know,” Lord Lannister told your father and your father nodded at that. “I will sit and watch, pretending to be him. I will be criticising his techniques out loud just like a real knight would criticise his foolish brother who takes part in a tournament without being a knight,” he explained, very proud of himself.

He wouldn’t be the only man who wanted to take part in this tournament without the title of the knight. After all, everyone was aware that the prize was your hand in marriage and you didn’t necessarily need a knight. There were lots of common Lords joining the tournament but they were all honest with their intentions. Not only Lord Jason Lannister had your father’s favouritism but he also was planning to obviously cheat by using his brother.

It made you angry as you carefully took a step back and nodded at your guards to follow you down the path. It seemed like the whole tournament was just a show and a theatre play – you were no longer excited since the end result seemed to be fixed. You would be sent to Lannisport to marry that annoying and arrogant Lord Jason Lannister. Tears filled your eyes and you didn’t even care about your makeup anymore since you no longer longed for the tournament to begin.

You walked past the greenest tent around and saw a man in auburn hair washing his face outside. He noticed your staring and looked up with a dashing smile. He recognised you immediately from the portraits and your clothes. Also, what other Lady would dare to take a walk here? Only the one for whom the tournament was taking place.

“Lady Tyrell,” he bowed his head but his blue eyes were still on you.

You sniffled your tears back and straightened yourself.

“Lord…?” You asked and turned your head to see the banner on the tent. “Lord Hightower? No, that cannot be. Lord Hightower is in King’s Landing, is he not? And he is much older. He is The Hand of The King Viserys,” you tilted your head a little.

“You mean Otto Hightower, my Lady,” the man nodded with a smile as he approached you. His armour wasn’t fully on yet and you could see his shirt slightly open. “I am his eldest son, Ser Gwayne Hightower,” he introduced himself and reached his hand out.

After a while of hesitation, you allowed him to kiss the palm of your hand.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower. You are a brother to our Queen Alicent! Are you to inherit Oldtown after your father’s death?” You asked.

“That is correct, My Lady,” he nodded and straightened his back.

You hummed to yourself. Oldtown was in The Reach and it was the second largest and most populated city in the Seven Kingdoms. To get there from Highgarden, a horse needed around ten days down the Roseroad. You had been there before a few times with your parents but you had never met Ser Gwayne before.

You looked him up and down. He had a cocky grin on his face but there was something about him that you actually quite liked – especially compared to Lord Jason Lannister. Ser Gwayne seemed to be confident but in a different, less exasperating way.

“Did your father encourage you to take part in this tournament, Ser Gwayne?” You asked him as you raised an eyebrow at him. “I do believe he is known for being an ambitious man.”

“Yes, my father insisted on me taking part,” Ser Gwayne admitted. “But I do not mind it myself.”

You nodded at that. Well, a union between your houses seemed to be right. You were both from The Reach and perhaps The Tyrells were more significant but The Hightowers were a real power, especially now. Sadly, your father seemed to be fixated on that whole idea of you marrying a Lannister.

Unless… Unless you would interfere somehow.

Your silence was interpreted by Ser Gwayne as a sign of exhaustion or boredom, though. He nodded his head and took a step back.

“It was nice to meet you before the tournament, my Lady,” he bowed his head. “I know there are dozens of knights around but, please, do remember about me while choosing your champion, I humbly ask,” he gave you one more dashing smile before walking inside his tent.

As a Lady for whom the tournament was taking place, you had the right to choose your champion. A man you favoured. Although, since the unofficial prize was your hand in marriage, it would be very awkward for a man who was not your champion to win. You assumed that your father would try to force you to choose Lord Jason Lannister.

And you had been right. Now, when you were holding a golden rose prepared for this occasion as all the knights were standing in front of you and your family in the audience, your father squeezed you by your elbow. He leaned in to whisper into your ear:

“You shall give the rose to Lord Jason Lannister and name him your champion,” he said with a fake smile before moving away.

You swallowed thickly and took a step ahead to be able to reach the man you would choose. You glanced at The Lannister man on the horse – Tyland, pretending to be Jason. And in the audience nearby you there he sat – Jason, pretending to be Tyland. Your eyes met for a second and he grinned at you confidently although he had no idea you were aware of his plan.

You searched for a different pair of eyes now, amongst all the knights. And then you found them, the blue ones. His armour had beautiful ornaments and even his horse was armoured. It all looked so elegant and you smiled at the sight.

You bit on your lower lip. But was he a good knight? Did he actually stand a chance to win?

Well, you were about to find out.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower,” you took a few steps to the right to be closer to him as he commanded his horse to take a few steps ahead. “I choose you to be my champion,” you smiled at him and leaned in to hand him the golden rose.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell, it is an honour,” he bowed his head and you saw in his eyes that he was quite surprised that you had named him amongst all the men your champion. He took the rose from you carefully and pinned it to his armour before closing his helmet and returning to the other knights.

You took a deep breath in before walking away to take your seat. Your father’s burning gaze was nearly painful but your mother kept smiling, unaware of the schemings.

“That’s Otto Hightower’s eldest son. The Queen is his sister,” your mother babbled to your father. “Our daughter has chosen wisely,” she smiled at you. “And he’s handsome and quite young.”

Your father ignored her words and gave you a deadly glare instead but you only huffed and walked away, locking your eyes with Lord Jason again. The real one, sitting in the audience. He was not grinning anymore.

Thankfully, Ser Gwayne turned out to be an excellent knight. Sadly, so was Ser Tyland Lannister, pretending to be his brother Lord Jason.

On the second day of the tournament, they already got rid of most of their opponents as they defeated them in combat. Some of the knights were seriously wounded.

On the third day it was already known that the last duel would be between Ser Gwayne and Ser Tyland. Everyone was taking bets and your father was gritting his teeth.

All this time, you were carefully watched by him and you had no opportunity to speak to any of the men taking part in the tournament. But on the night before the last, fourth, day when the final duel would take place, your father had thrown a feast, during which you were approached by Ser Jason Lannister.

Or Ser Tyland. Were they pretending to be each other during feasts as well? You were tempted to ask but you had no courage to do so.

“Lady Tyrell, there should be songs about your beauty,” he bowed his head and you bowed down.

“Lord Lannister,” you mumbled out, uninterested. “Why aren’t you busy writing them then?”

Your mother looked at you with terror in her eyes but you ignored her.

“Oh, believe me, I do not have time for such frivolities although I wish I had. However, my duties in Lannisport are many. My treasure is full and I shall spoil you with my goods when you are my Lady Wife,” he grinned at you, luring you with his wealth.

“You sound so sure that you’re going to win, my Lord,” you pointed out.

“Oh, I am sure. Ever since you named that Hightower knight your champion, I am determined to show him his place. But I hold no resentment towards you for your choice. I do realise that you, women from The Reach, like to tease,” he winked at you and you had to pretend his words were not an insult. Even your mother gasped a little at his boldness.

“I cannot believe you would spoil me with your wealth for nothing in return, my Lord,” you raised an eyebrow, curious of the response.

“Well, of course not. Like every husband I want my wife to be obedient, easy on the eye and give me many, healthy children,” he informed you. “Sons, I mean,” he fixed himself. That arrogant smirk was still on his face.

“I think your father is calling us,” your mother saved the day as she quickly took you by the arm and excused you both to walk you away from Lord Jason. “Oh, what an insufferable man! Sadly, your father seems to be fixated on the idea of you marrying him. And you know, dear (Y/N), after all the matches you had dismissed in the past… You just can’t say no now. Especially at your age,” she looked at you sternly, but still worried.

You didn’t answer that. You simply nodded your head and walked away to go outside and catch a breath.

You kept walking ahead of you, leaving the noise of the party behind you. You wanted to be alone and despite the darkness, you knew where you were going because you knew this garden better than yourself.

You entered the maze to hide in your favourite spot but after a while you heard unfamiliar steps behind you. You gasped and turned around to see a male silhouette, which caused a shiver go down your spine. If something happened to you now, unguarded and with no one to rescue if you called for help… You didn’t even want to imagine the consequences.

“That is only me, my Lady,” you heard a familiar voice and the man took a few steps ahead. It was Ser Gwayne Hightower, smiling at you.

“Ser Gwayne!” You pretended to sigh with relief but the truth was that you didn’t trust him either. You trusted no man who was creeping up on a Lady like that. “We shouldn’t be left alone without a chaperone,” you pointed out.

“Forgive me, I saw you running away and quite upset. I wanted to make sure nothing bad would happen to you as you wandered off from the crowd without any guards following you,” he lowered his voice as he approached you.

You swallowed thickly. He was right in front of you and behind you there was a tall live-fence that was making it impossible to escape. As he leaned in, his auburn hair fell onto his face and you felt it tickling your cheeks. That close he was.

“How chivalrous of you,” you breathed out, starting to feel dizzy. You had never been so close with a man.

He looked down, his gaze fixated on your tight, revealing dress. Your breasts were squeezed under the silky golden fabric.

“What if I don’t win tomorrow?” He asked as he lifted his eyes up again to meet yours. “Lord Jason is surprisingly good, especially for a man who is not a knight.”

“It’s because it’s not him,” you confessed with a heavy sigh and Ser Gwayne furrowed his brow at you.

“Are you suggesting that…?”

“I am not suggesting, Ser. It is true. I know from the very beginning, I have overheard them talking to my father. My father wants me to marry Lord Jason Lannister and this tournament is nothing but a show-off. He was angry at me for choosing you as my champion,” you told him.

Ser Gwayne seemed to be confused as he took a step back and you surprised yourself because you wanted him close again.

“That is… Unhonourable and disrespectful,” he pointed out. “Do you wish for Lord Jason to win as well, my Lady?” He looked at you, intensely.

“No! Why would I choose you as my champion then, Ser?” You shook your head, desperate to make him believe you.

“To toy with me, perhaps. Or to tease Lord Lannister,” Ser Gwayne pointed out.

“I do not wish to have anything in common with that man,” you huffed.

“And me? You do not know me, do you, my Lady?” Ser Gwayne smirked as he leaned in again, his nose nearly brushing yours as he put his right hand on the live-fence above you. You felt so small underneath him suddenly.

“What do you expect from a wife, Ser Gwayne?” You asked, swallowing a lump in your throat and he looked confused at that question as if it was a stupid thing to ask.

“Loyalty, of course,” he answered.

“And that’s it?” Now you were the surprised one. “What about children?”

“Well, it would be nice to have them, don’t you think, my Lady?” Ser Gwayne chuckled and rubbed your nose with his.

“What if I am flawed like my mother and I can give you only daughters?” You bit on your lower lip, slowly getting drunk at the feeling of having him so close.

“Then we shall make them all great ladies of great houses. My sister is The Queen. Us, Hightowers, we are ambitious,” he told you. “And I have many younger brothers who can produce their male heirs. The future of my family is safe whatever I do,” he assured you and raised his other hand to caress your cheek with his fingertips.

At first, you got startled at his touch as if it was causing you pain because you were not used to being touched like this by a male hand. But then, after a short while, you gave in and hummed to yourself, making him smirk.

You leaned back onto the live-fence and arched your back, connecting your crotch with his. You had no idea what made you do that… It was as if your instincts were telling you what to do. And it felt good.

“Don’t,” Gwayne scolded you and took a step back as you whined.

“Aren’t you here to claim me just in case you lose the duel tomorrow?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heating up. You couldn’t believe the boldness of your own words.

Lord Lannister had been right about the women from The Reach, apparently.

“Perhaps you should have not made me your champion, Lady Tyrell, if you think so lowly of me,” Ser Gwayne bowed his head and turned around to walk away, leaving you alone; confused and full of embarrassment.

One thing was certain – he was messing with your head. You couldn’t stop thinking of him all night long, touching yourself to the thoughts of him standing so close, to the memory of his touch and his voice.

You would rather die than marry Lord Jason Lannister. Any attempt to imagine anyone else other than Ser Gwayne touching you, was making you physically sick.

You watched with fear, clenching your fists on the railing and leaning down to see better although, at the same time, you didn’t want to see; you were that scared.

You knew that people had been betting on who would win this combat. And more people had bet on The Lannister. Your eyes followed the golden rose attached to Ser Gwayne’s armour, though. You only wanted to keep looking at him as you prayed to the gods old and new for his victory.

The combat was fierce and long. Both of the horses got hurt and taken away and the two opponents were standing face-to-face now, having to duel with their swords on the ground.

Lord Jason Lannister – the real one, the one in the audience – stood up and clenched his fists on the railing, too, as he watched his twin brother.

“Come on!” He yelled and that was when the other Lannister struck Ser Gwayne down. “Yes! That’s right!” He cheered alongside the audience. Then, he looked at you with a smirk.

“Ser Gwayne!” You exclaimed in a high-pitched, scared voice.

To your relief, your champion stood up after taking the blow and you clenched your fists even tiger around the railing. You wouldn’t be surprised if you broke the wood with your hands.

After a few more attempts to strike each other down, both opponents were roaring with frustration. And then you spotted Ser Gwayne taking his helmet off and throwing it aside as people gasped.

Was he insane? You had been thinking that he was a rational man but apparently much less than you expected.

He looked up at you and nodded his head as the wind ruffled his auburn hair a little. You had to admit that he was presenting himself very handsome and you were aware that the helmet was limiting his view during combat but it was still very risky.

When you nodded back, he went back to the fight. His strikes and blows were fast and determined as if the fight was to death. You held your breath whenever he would get a punch or a strike since he was wearing no helmet. However, he seemed to be doing much better now.

Eventually, The Lannister was laying down and not standing up for quite a long time now as Ser Gwayne spat some blood out and looked up again – his face covered in blood and a few bruises but other than that, he was fine.

Your father stood up, carefully, before walking up to you to see with his own eyes. He hesitated and froze instead of announcing the winner and the whole audience was now looking at him.

“You shall announce my champion the winner,” you reminded him and he swallowed thickly.

“I… I announce Ser Gwayne Hightower the winner of this tournament. Congratulations!” He exclaimed and turned around this very instant to sit back down on his chair.

“You fought bravely, Ser Tyland,” Ser Gwayne helped his opponent to stand up as everyone froze at his words. “Oh, Lord Jason, do forgive me,” he nodded at him with a smirk before leaving the field.

Your heart picked up its pace and you couldn’t help a big grin. You glanced at The Lannister in the audience and he gave you a very unpleasant look this time. You couldn’t blame him, really. Ser Gwayne’s little mistake would make people gossip about The Lannisters cheating in the tournament. It was bringing you lots of satisfaction.

You were about to excitedly leave your parents’ side, when your father grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Where are you going?” He asked, harshly.

“To see my champion!” You answered him.

“Absolutely not,” your father shook his head. “You are coming with me to meet with The Lannister brothers,” he told you and both you and your mother widened your eyes at him.

“Father… Ser Gwayne has won the tournament… Fairly,” you pointed out.

“You said that the winner would have (Y/N)’ hand in marriage,” your mother reminded him.

“It was never officially announced, was it?” He barked at the both of you. “It was just a rumour.”

“Do you want to enrage The Hand of The King by disrespecting his son? Do you want to enrage The Queen herself by disrespecting her brother?” You asked him.

Your father let go of your wrist but he kept staring at you with anger and resentment in his eyes.

“Why did you want The Lannisters to win so badly?” You asked him. “To the point of letting them play it dirty and cheat?” You continued as your mother’s eyes were widening. “I have overheard your conversation on the first day while taking a stroll between the tents like you had forbidden me to,” you admitted. “Why, father?”

“My Lord Husband?” Your mother asked him, enraged by what she had just heard.

“Perhaps you have also overheard the part where I was saying that the tournament is a nice show-off,” he explained.

“I do understand why you threw the tournament. The question was not about that,” you raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms.

“Wealth,” was all he said after a short silence.

“And… that’s it?” You asked, disappointed.

Your father nodded and looked away.

“Wealth and splendour. An alliance between The Tyrells and The Lannisters would be a powerful one. And their treasure is big,” he added.

You opened your mouth to say something but you had no words.

“Your foolish sisters!” He continued as he raised his voice suddenly. “One married some Dornish lesser Lord and the other went up North to marry a knight in The Vale! The Ladies of House Tyrell! I should have been creating powerful alliances with you, foolish girls, but, no, all of you know better! All of you!” He yelled at you as your mother began to calm him down.

“I would never marry a man without an honour like Lord Jason Lannister,” you only said. “A cheater who plays dirty by using his brother because he knows very well that he would lose his very first combat if it was him down there,” you finished.

Without any other word, you hurried downstairs to run up to Ser Gwayne’s tent. His squire was working on removing his armour off of his body and you approached him to cup his bruised face splashed with blood.

“Ser Gwayne…” You started and then you swallowed thickly and looked down, remembering your encounter with him from the previous evening and the things you had been thinking of at night.

“Lady Tyrell,” he nodded at you with a smile.

“Are you alright, Ser? What has gotten into you to take the helmet off?” You asked as you dared to look up again, right into his blue eyes.

“It was limiting my view,” he answered. “I am alright, my Lady, no need to worry about me.”

“Are you always that irresponsible, Ser?” You asked yet another question. After all, it was important to know if he was supposed to be your Lord Husband.

“Never, my Lady. But it was rather an important combat, was it not?” He raised an eyebrow at you and you smiled widely at him.

You let go of his face as you took a few steps back to let his squire continue his work with the armour.

“I shall leave you now,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Tyrell,” Ser Gwayne bowed his head slightly as he watched you walking out of his tent.

There was a feast again on that evening but instead of being with the guests, your father was locked in the library with Ser Gwayne, discussing the unofficial prize of the tournament – your hand in marriage.

You were pacing around the corridor, all dolled up for the party in a pastel pink dress but with no interest to walk down and participate in the celebrations. You were afraid that your father would be rude to Ser Gwayne or scare him off, so you wanted to be around just in case you needed to put out some fire.

At first, you had chosen Ser Gwayne Hightower to be your champion simply to annoy your father and to avoid showing any favours to Lord Jason Lannister. But as the time progressed – especially after last night… – you just wanted to become Ser Gwayne’s wife. You would still live in The Reach and have your mother quite close but at the same time you’d be away from your father and his constant remarks of remaining unmarried despite your age.

Oldtown was an important place on the map of Westeros and you would be The Queen’s sister-in-law. Your father would be foolish to choose Lannister's gold over that honour.

The doors opened finally and you saw your father who was visibly surprised at the sight of you nervously pacing outside the library.

“Are you curious or nosy, dear daughter?” He asked you with his eyebrow raised.

“Perhaps both,” you answered.

“Either way,” your father shrugged, taking a step aside and revealing Ser Gwayne standing behind him, “that is not a problem of mine to deal with anymore,” he finished. “Disciplining her might be a challenge,” he chuckled at Ser Gwayne.

“With all respect, Lord Tyrell, I am not Lady (Y/N)’s father to discipline her,” Ser Gwayne nodded at him and approached you to hold your hands in his as he looked at your face. “We are going to get married, my Lady,” he announced to you and you smiled widely at him, feeling a huge wave of relief washing all over you. Relief, happiness and… excitement.

“When?!” Was all you asked before looking at your father’s face. He seemed to watch you carefully but wasn’t as displeased as before, right after the tournament.

“Ser Gwayne is running Oldtown in the name of his father so he must return there immediately tomorrow morning,” your father answered. “We will escort you to him for the wedding once all the preparations are finished. It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?!” You whined. “How am I supposed to wait for so long?”

Ser Gwayne chuckled at that and so did your father as you felt your cheeks heating up.

“You have been waiting for so long to get married, my dear, you can surely hold off a few weeks more,” your father pointed out.

But he didn’t understand. Now, when you actually wanted to become a wife and found a man worthy enough to be called your Lord Husband, you didn’t want to wait a day longer. However, being whiny about it would only make you look childish and desperate.

“I shall wait then,” you sighed and looked down in defeat.

“And I shall prepare The Hightower for your arrival, my Lady,” Ser Gwayne nodded at you. “What is your favourite colour, may I ask, my Lady, just so I know how to tell my people to decorate your new chambers?”

“It’s green, Ser Gwayne,” you answered with a soft smile. “Green and yellow like the colours of my house.”

“Something tells me we are going to be an excellent match,” Ser Gwayne smirked at your answer with a wink.

MASTERLIST

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x oc #tyrell oc #lilysfiction

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sunnyskiesscareme · 10 months ago

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My Heart’s Racing, and it isn’t the Exercise

Luke Hughes x reader

Summary: Luke Hughes has a gym crush, and his brother wants a sister in law

Warnings: there’s a reference to like… dropping a weight on his head to induce memory loss, you’ll understand if you read it 😭 other than that, nothing!! (Unless u include Luke embarrassing himself but that’s just cuz he’s a cutie patootie)

Notes: I’m so sorry I’ve barely posted!! Uni is kicking my ass. Still, I appreciate all the support on my previous fics!! Y’all are so kind!! Also, a lil reference to the readers job as a hairdresser

Luke was sure that if y/n wasn’t here, he’d cry.

He had explicitly told his brother that he needed to be at the gym within 10am-11:30am, and no later. He hadn’t told him why, exactly, but he thought he made himself pretty clear anyhow. It wasn’t like Jack to be late to anything, but Jack had expressed that he believed you couldn’t be late to the gym in the first place. To him, it was a personal pleasure. Luke would have agreed if it weren’t for the girl with the strict schedule, who went everyday, at the same time, with no exceptions.

He couldn’t explain that to Jack without the certainty of him telling the whole Devil’s team about his little crush, and suddenly the chirping would go beyond anything he’d ever live down. So instead, when Jack would roll his eyes at his brother with a comment about being uptight, Luke would bite back with a reminder that Jack had assigned certain coats to certain hooks in the entrance way. Surely, Luke was not the uptight one in that apartment.

Jack had only hurried things up when his brother threatened to leave without him, jingling his keys and walking to the door with exaggerated stomps. Still, they had only left the house at 10:41, and for reasons unbeknownst to Jack, Luke had refused to switch to the gym nearest their building. It was 10:53 when they got there, and Luke ignored his brothers scolds for his crooked parking job, rushing to check who was at the girl’s favourite machine. It was then that Luke realized he had never learned her name. Had she ever even had a full conversation with him?

She was there, in all of her beauty, but Luke didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he walked over to the chest press for his warmup as if he had never seen her. His sudden stop-and-stare session did not go unnoticed by his brother, who not so subtly squinted his eyes in her direction, trying to find what had his little brother so dazed. His eyes flickered to the dejected look on his face, back to the girl, and then to the foot that Luke was subconsciously tapping. A knowing grin grew on Jack's face before he wiped it off with the back of his hand, wringing his wrist out in an act of preparation for his dead-lift warmup. He halted when he began to pass by Luke, stomping his foot on the ground exaggeratingly as he turned to his brother.

"Luke, Luke," Jack said, bending down to reach ear level with him. "You see that girl over there? The one on the, uh, the walking thingy?"

"The elliptical." Luke corrected, a little bit too fast. He’d learned the name of the machine a while ago, just in case he needed it one day.

"Yeah, whatever. She's real pretty, huh?"

Luke's eyes met Jack's so fast it hurt, and he blinked a couple of times to make the room stop spinning. His knuckles turned white at the grip he had on the bars of the machine, despite having paused the lifting to speak to his brother. "What- why?"

"I think I’m gonna ask her out."

"No!" Luke yelped, and those in the gym who weren't wearing headphones or struggling to breathe with the intensity of their workout glanced over at him curiously. His cheeks burned bright red, and Jack had to repress a smirk. "She’s," he shook his head, "She's not even your type."

“What? Of course she is. You don’t think she’s pretty?”

“She’s-!” Luke started, chest puffed up and eyes wide as he went to defend the girl. That was, until the smile on his brothers face looked a little bit too evil to be classified as adoring, and Luke squinted his eyes at him. “What are you trying to do here?”

Jack let out a girlish giggle and gave him a smack to his knee. “I think you think she’s pretty!”

“Shut up!” He wacked his brother right back.

“I think you’ve beaten me to her!”

“Jack, stop.” Luke begged, gripping his brothers wrist strongly enough for Jack to wince, his eyes wide as saucers.

Jack snickered, wringing out his wrist. He glanced back at the girl, whose machine beeped as she finished her cool down. “C’mon! She’s done. Go talk to her!”

“What? No!” Luke refused, his voice much quieter and harsher than his brothers. “No, she’s leaving anyway.”

Jack glanced at the girl again, who had finally stepped off of the machine and stood in front of a window. Her silhouette was black as she tipped her head towards the ceiling to chug down some water. He looked back at Luke. “I don’t think so… looks like she’s just having a drink before her next workout.”

“No.” Luke shook his head, certainty in his movements. “It’s 11:30. This is when she leaves.”

Luke seemed to have not realized the weight his words held before he said them, and quickly made himself busy with his machine before Jack’s head jerked foreword, his jaw dropped far enough that if he had dared to look, Luke would be able to count all of his teeth.

“Woah, woah, wait a minute!” He said, stepping in front of his little brother so that he had no casual excuse for avoiding his gaze. “Is this why you’ve been whining every day about when we get here?”

Luke cringed, ending his first rep early to stick an earbud in his ear. “I’m working out. Can’t hear ya.”

“Oh my god!” Jack gaped, yanking the earbud back out. “This is why I have to go to a gym 15 minutes away from my apartment- that has a gym in the building?”

“It’s only 10, don’t be such a baby.” Luke groaned, seeing no point in trying to hide his little secret any longer.

“Oh my god. Luke, I’m being serious right now, if you don’t go talk to her- I will.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

Luke’s eyes worriedly flicked back to where she stood before, but let out a breath when she wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t know wether it was of relief or disappointment, but he forced himself not to dwell on the weird feeling in his chest. “She’s… She’s gone anyways.”

Jacks head whipped to the window and then back to his brother so fast that Luke was surprised he wasn’t in pain. He quickly promised himself he’d give him pain if he looked at him like that any longer- his brows slightly furrowed, eyes more pitiful than annoyed. Jack let out a soft huff. “Next time then.”

---

Jack was ready before Luke was the next morning, bouncing on the balls of his feet on the mat in front of the door. Luke walked sluggishly, something he hadn’t done since he had first seen her. He was sure this would be the last day at her gym- certain he’d be too humiliated to return.

“Could you wipe that look off your face, please?” Luke asked, annoyed.

His grin only grew, flashing his recently fixed straight white teeth. “Why would I? Todays the day- Lukey Boy is getting a girlfriend!”

Luke rolled his eyes.

The 10 minute car ride was mostly silent. To Jack, it had felt like the longest ride he’d ever taken, even with all of the complaints he’d given about the length of the drive in the past. This was most certainly the worst of them all. To Luke, it had been the shortest. He’d listed multiple plans for certain scenarios in his head, noting that if he really needed to, there were weights near the elliptical she used that he could drop on his head if he needed to forget he’d ever seen her. Maybe his brother would feel bad enough to never bring it up again. He planned to run a few fast miles on a treadmill beforehand, so that he could build up some adrenaline, and blame his red face on the exercise.

Jack walked in with a pep in his step, only stopping when his brother suddenly grabbed his wrist. His face was white and his eyes wide, and Jack had never seen him so scared to talk to a girl before. “She’s gonna think I’m a creep.”

“No she won’t! Just… don’t be a creep, and you’ll be fine.”

Luke releases his brothers wrist to run a stressed hand down his face. “I hate you.”

“Luke, it’s gonna be fine, I’m telling you.” Jack tried to reason. He sent him a funny smile, “Plus, you’re in the NHL. what girl would say no to that?”

Luke didn’t laugh, and Jack licked his lip awkwardly. “Buddy, just do it. There’s no use comforting you now- she hasn’t even rejected you yet!”

“Yet!”

“No!” Jack gripped Luke’s shoulders tightly. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Now go. Now. It’s time.”

Luke almost tripped, his feet too nervous to react to the push his brother gave him. He prayed that it was too bright outside to see the reflection in the window her machine overlooked, and that she didn’t see any of that. He stood awkwardly a safe distance away from her, looking back at his brother who gave him a not-so-subtle thumbs up.

She was changing the song coming through her headphones when she felt the presence of someone next to her. She turned, startled when someone was actually there. He was tall, but had a young, sweet face. His hair was long enough for him to have to push behind his ear and she could imagine him hating it. Most people with curly or wavy hair did, she had learned from work, but his was her favourite texture to cut and work with. She’d recognized him well. He seemed to have a similar schedule to her, and she had used him as proof to her friends that she wasn’t uptight. He was too handsome to look at, she had decided one day. She couldn’t afford a gym crush, not when she was doing so well with her gym streak. It would complicate things. She flicked an earbud out, giving him a friendly, but curious smile.

“Hi.” He said, the word breathy.

“Hi.” She said back with a slight chuckle. “Did you need something?”

“Oh! Sorry, uh,” she didn’t notice Jack watching them, cringing at the way his brother stuttered. “I was wondering… if I could use that machine.”

She blinked at him, eyes flickering to the 3 other ellipticals lining the large window, still and unused. She nodded anyway. “Uh, yeah! Sure!” She said, stepping off and beside the guy, who looked much taller from the new angle. “Are, are the other ones not working?”

“Uh-“

“Nope!” She jumped at the loud voice behind her, looking right in time for her to miss how Jack stepped on the machines cord, unplugging it. He smacked his hand on the buttons exaggeratedly, proving to her that it wouldn’t turn on.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’ve been hogging the only working one, haven’t I?”

“No, no! You’re okay. Uh, I just, um-“

“My brother thinks you’re pretty!” Jack blurted out, cutting off his stuttering.

Luke looked mortified, shoulders curling in on himself. Y/n reddened, her lips unintentionally curling up into a giddy smile. “Oh! Thank you!” She let out a nervous chuckle. “Um, you’re his brother?”

“I’m so sorry.” He said instead of answering, and she hoped he didn’t look so sick because his brother lied.

“Don’t be! I’m,” she let out another nervous chuckle, “I’m very flattered.”

“You should let him buy you a smoothie from the drink bar.” Jack suggested, grinning wildly. Y/n felt brave under his enthusiasm.

“Jack!” Luke pleaded, fists balled up.

“He doesn’t have to pay.” She said, and she smiled awkwardly at their intense gazes. “Uh, I mean… are you thirsty?”

“You want to get a smoothie with me?”

“Well, sure! Only if you tell me your name though.” She giggled

He looked at her, his gaping lips turning up into a smile. “Luke.”

Luke had never loved his brother more. He hadn’t listened as he came up with some excuse for leaving the two of them alone. Something about already having water or having to get his workout in while he could, Luke assumed. He didn’t really care. He had imagined a million ways his day could go, and he had somehow lived the one he didn’t think would ever happen. He smiled at her, panicking when she began to reach for the pack she had around her waist. “I’ll pay!”

She looked back up at him. “Wow! A cute boy calls me pretty and buys me a smoothie in one day? This isn’t what I imagined would happen when I walked into the gym today.” She giggled, walking with him.

“Yeah… neither did I.”

#sunnyspouts #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke Hughes x fem!reader #nhl x reader #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #nhl imagine #nhl players

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pathologicalreid · 10 months ago

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occupational hazard | S.R.

You and Spencer have a discussion about the dangers of his job.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: plot discussions from 9x23 (angels) and 9x24 (demons), canon compliant injuries, crying, established relationship word count: 1.23k a/n: thought of this while i couldn't sleep after watching the season 9 finale. also its me. I'm the crier.

Your mother always said you had a problem with staring. In the grocery store as a kid, she would pull you to the side and tell you that you were being rude. It always confused you because you didn’t think it was possible to be rude without speaking.

Spencer never seemed to mind your staring, he’d ask if everything was alright, but he never really asked you to stop or told you off.

So, while he was over at your apartment, sitting on the couch grading papers, you just stared at him. You studied how his hair fell in front of his face as he scrawled on the printed paper, and how he set his jaw when he noticed a mistake. Your brows furrowed when you noticed a small scar on the side of his neck, a confused noise escaped your throat.

That got his attention, “What’s wrong?” He asked, matching your furrowed brows before setting his pen down.

Cocking your head curiously, you leaned forward to try to look at his neck, “What is that?” You whispered. It was an old scar, so you could only really notice it when the light hit it just right.

“What is what?” He asked, looking behind him and on his shirt like he was looking for a spill.

Gently, you reached out your hand and touched the scar with your fingertips. “Where did you get this scar?” You couldn’t believe you had never noticed it before – the two of you had been dating for more than half a year.

He reached up his hand and met yours, intertwining your hands together, “On a case in Texas.”

Your lips parted slightly as you looked at the scar again. “How did you get that scar on a case in Texas?” You asked, even though you were fairly certain you knew the answer.

Turning, Spencer set all of the papers on the side table before he turned back to face you. “I was shot in the neck,” he answered almost a little too calmly. As if it was just another day in the office, and maybe it was to him.

It certainly wasn’t to you. “What do you mean you got shot in the neck?” You asked, your voice was high and reedy with panic. Fear settled in your chest on behalf of a version of your boyfriend you didn’t even know.

“Hey, hey,” he said in an attempt to calm you down. “I’m okay, this happened almost five years ago, love. I’m fine,” he said, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands.

Your eyes were still wide, like deer in the headlights wide, and you nodded despite yourself. “That’s so scary, Spence,” you whispered as emotion burned in your throat. You knew he worked for the FBI and had for a long time. You knew he had been in love with a girl who was killed in front of him – that’s why he was so protective sometimes. You knew he had been in prison for three months for a crime he didn’t commit – that’s why he taught classes for thirty days. This was the first thing you had figured out – you had told him to tell you everything in his own time.

For a moment, he watched you like he had something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure where to start.

You sat on your heels and retracted your hands from his neck, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry I just… I saw the scar.” Awkwardly settling your hands in your lap, you sighed. “You’re right, it was a long time ago.”

“Wait, what just happened?” He asked dumbfoundedly.

Shrugging, you settled into the couch cushions. “I just saw the scar and I was curious,” you whispered as your eyes burned. “I didn’t… I just mean you don’t owe me an explanation.”

Reaching into your lap, Spencer took one of your hands in his, gently skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “You can always ask, it’s a fact that my job is dangerous,” he told you softly. “Getting hurt is an occupational hazard. It was never my intention to make you feel like you can’t ask me questions about… Why are you crying?”

You wiped furiously under your eyes at the tears that had flooded your eyes, “because you got shot.”

“You’re crying because I was shot five years ago?” He asked in bewilderment, his tone wasn’t belittling, he was genuinely surprised at your reasoning.

Nodding, you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to stop your tears. “I am a crier; I cry at everything. Please don’t read into this,” you pleaded, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

Gently, Spencer pried your hands away from your face, “Please don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry, and I don’t know what to do.”

You shook your head, and your bleary eyes met his, “Really, Spence, I’m fine. I’m just a crier, okay? Sad, happy, mad, I cry.” You looked up at the ceiling light and sniffled, fanning your face in an attempt to dry it off.

He was staring at you, “You are quite possibly the sweetest human being I have ever met.” Spencer reached out and pulled you to him, “Look at me.”

Begrudgingly, you looked at him. “How many times have you been shot?”

“I’m not answering that until you stop crying,” he said, sweeping your hair behind your ears.

That answer did absolutely nothing to comfort you. Huffing, you pressed your lips into a thin white line, “I’m fine,” you whispered, “I’m just crying.”

Spencer smiled at you, “That is an oxymoron, and you know it.” His smile faded, “I’ve been shot three times.”

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you said, dropping your head to his shoulder.

He hummed softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “Once in the knee, once in the arm, and once in the neck. Please don’t cry.”

You nodded into him, “Yeah, you’re… you’re okay now, right?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” He asked softly, running his hands along your back.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, “I love you,” you whispered.

His movements falter for just a moment, “I love you too.”

Pulling away and wiping your eyes, “You should finish grading those papers,” you whispered to him, moving away.

Instead of letting you go, Spencer pulled you closer, “I’ll finish tomorrow. I want to be here with you now,” he responded softly. “Are we okay?”

“Your job scares me,” you answered candidly, “but we’re good. We’re great.”

He nodded self-assuredly, “I can’t change the job, but you could meet my team if you wanted to. Maybe meeting them would make you more comfortable with me going out into the field,” he offered. “And maybe I could…” his voice trailed off as he mumbled something else.

Tilting your head curiously, you hummed in an attempt to prod at him, “Maybe you could what?”

“I could make you my emergency contact. If that’s something you’re comfortable with,” he said. “I’ve never really had anyone to add, but I’m sure Emily wouldn’t mind.”

You smiled softly at him, grateful for every bit he let you in, “I would be honored. Just don’t have any emergencies.”

please like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot

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rallentando1011 · 7 months ago

Text

certain ineffable things

(rise Donnie x touch starved gn reader - little bit of angst, mostly fluff) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lazy circles drawn on hips.

Tender pats on the shoulder or head, conveying much more than mere words.

Nudges of encouragement or of endearment or at least conveying that someone else was there.

Various affectionate displays - all luxuries experienced in the most painfully infrequent intervals.

At least, they were to you.

Home definitely wasn’t the place to be seeking out stuff like that - your upbringing had all but made certain of that - nor was anywhere with your colleagues or friends. Any time anyone so much as got near, your skin seemed to crawl and spine shivered and-

In short, it seemed an endeavor destined to fail.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t like it. The physical contact part, that was; the yearning and all that was inarguably awful.

But the occasional touch or elbow rub or hug just absolutely made you melt. Only when you felt like it though. And normally only when you initiated it. And typically only with a certain purple clad significant other-

A hand grasped onto yours.

You snapped back to the present, sitting in Donnie’s lab where you’d been idly passing him tools and utensils as needed and he’d been discarding them back into your palm, and where a misunderstanding where each of you thought the other to be passing them something and extended two empty hands made quite the startling connection of the two.

“Sorry!” Your hand retracted as if repulsed by his. “Sorry.”

He jolted on his own accord before looking over at you. “You alright?”

“Are you?”

Donnie blinked. “You shuddered as if I transferred a few thousand volts which, considering my current field of experimentation, is feasible. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. What a way to get dragged out of a soliloquy. “It just, uh, caught me off guard is all. What about you? You just about leapt out of your seat.”

“All’s good on my end.”

“Yep. Same here.”

“Alright then.”

A terse moment passed. Despite how fervently you hoped he’d turn back to his work and drop the upsettingly awkward conversation, Donnie’s softly confused gaze stayed fixed on you.

It made your stomach churn in a manner halfway between flustered and unbearable - that was to say, leaving sounded like a viable option.

“You know what? I might go get a snack or something; it’s been a minute since I had anything so...”

“Right. Want me to have S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. fetch you something?”

“No!” You took a deep breath upon realizing you were nearly shouting. “No, that’s quite alright. I don’t mind moving around a little bit.”

“Oh. Okay.” Donnie remained wide-eyed and immobile, tracking you curiously even as you moved for the door. He probably kept that up as long as he could, as long as you were in his sight before going back to work, not that you knew for certain, of course. You had squared your shoulders and rushed out as swiftly as possible, only easing up when you reached the kitchen.

You set straight to work on that snack and a warm drink to help you recuperate.

With a sigh, you prepped a kettle on the stove, leaving it to boil as you ventured mindlessly to the pantry.

After retrieving something to munch on, something easily poppable, you returned to an eagerly whistling kettle, the contents of which you quickly emptied into an eagerly awaiting mug. You plucked a tea bag from the cabinet adjacent to the stove and dunked it in, setting a timer.

As the tea steeped, you tried not to do so in your thoughts. Swimming and swarming uncomfortably through your brain with unpleasant reminders of how unfairly you’d behaved earlier, how unfair the circumstances around how averse you felt toward simple contact were-

No, not going there right now. You busied yourself with snagging pieces of your snack, losing your thoughts under the fervent sound of crunching and grinding and-

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Right. The tea.

Steeping over and tea bag tossed, you gathered your bearings and paused in the doorway. On one hand, you could go back to the lab and talk things out like a sensible person. On the other hand, cowering away in Donnie’s room was also there.

“Psh.” You shook your head lightly at yourself and trudged your way to his room, ever the craven.

You sipped at your earl grey contentedly, navigating around stacks of thick books and planters filled with rich soil and plum-colored tradescantia. Donnie, ever the botanist at heart.

Following the oh-so-perilous journey across his purple-fluorescently lit room, you settled on his mattress. Something struck you as funny in a deprecating sort of way when you sat - going into his room uninvited and making yourself at home on his bed seemed less intimate than simply coming into contact with him. Maybe you were just desensitized to eradicating his personal space but still quite opposed to doing the same with his personal bubble.

Yes, it was funny. Pathetic, too, but ironically funny nonetheless.

You couldn’t remember the last time you purposefully came into contact with someone and liked it. Like, genuinely, when was the last time you were touched?

Yes, sometimes it happened out of necessity - someone helping fasten on a bracelet’s clasp or zip up an outfit or something of the sort - other times it happened by accident - like earlier - but other than that, you hadn’t the foggiest idea of when you’d last sought intentional contact with anyone. All you knew was that it had been a painfully long time which made it a painfully sore subject.

The quiet shuffle of steps made a sudden appearance, ones you could recognize as Donnie’s without even looking up. So you didn’t.

A weight settled a considerable distance away from you on the bed, the sounds of the anxious pops of phalanges and the wringing of wrists making it even more apparent it was him.

You took a long, slow sip of your tea, savoring the last bit of warmth cascading down your throat before deftly discarding the empty mug on his busied nightstand.

You shuffled.

Talking, right? That was what was supposed to, what needed to come next, right?

Hashing it out verbally, coming to a resolution, going back to sitting in the lab with hardly a word exchanged and certainly no skin brushing by skin.

How do you ask someone why they scarcely touch you without sounding inappropriate or impotent? Not exactly a normal thing to ask. Or feel.

And how do you describe the niche feeling of wanting to feel any kind of contact but only under the most specific of circumstances?

Daunting, it was. All of it.

“Do you want to talk about earlier?” Donnie broke the silence.

The shake of your head was nigh indiscernible, but he perceived it nonetheless.

He twiddled his thumbs.

You cleared your throat.

He looked up from his lap.

You cautiously extended your arms out. An invitation to skip the words and go straight to the resolution.

Hesitantly, his hand met yours, the feeling electric, burning as his digits slid across yours to take gentle hold of you.

The two of you met eyes and, upon seeing no disapproval, continued with the utmost care.

You couldn’t recall which one of you moved to lay down first, but the other quickly reciprocated the shift, both of you ending up facing each other on silken violet sheets.

Legs tangled lightly for the purpose of pulling each other closer.

Tridactyl hands lightly glided to your sides, as if handling something delicate.

Yours made their way up, joining together behind his neck.

“I’m being so honest right now: if you want to stop, we’re stopping,” you voiced quietly yet surely.

Lazy circles on your hips drawn by his thumbs drew you in, drawn by thumbs that had increasingly more bravado by the second.

“Seriously, any moment you’re done, we’re done.”

A low hum sounded his amusement.

“Not as in done done, like done with this specific-”

“Respectfully,” Donnie interjected lightheartedly, “shut up. I’m good if you’re good.”

“…”

The silence this time once again carried an awkward air, but it was decidedly less insufferable.

Another second was spent before he cleared his throat, not wanting to misinterpret your silence. “You’re good?”

“Mmhm.”

“Then it’s good.”

With that, you decided his advice to shut up was the best idea you’d heard all day and did so, nuzzling your face into his neck sleepily. The reverberating churr and tighter hold you received in return were exquisite.

Oftentimes words proved to be the best and most concise way to convey a message; however, sometimes actions took that distinction, able to show as opposed to tell certain ineffable things.

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twinkling-moonlillie · 14 days ago

Text

Feather Necklace (Hawks/Keigo x Reader)

Warnings: None! This is really fluffy with little hints of angst.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!! This was an idea mentioned in my Keigo headcanons that I wanted to expand upon. As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are dutifully appreciated <3

Heroism involved sober servitude, a selfless courage and readied ability to sacrifice. There was no room for prioritization of lives. All lives were equal during an emergency, even if the one in danger was the love of your life.

This was the life that Hawks lived day after day. His wings were stiffly burdened with the lives of millions and he was sure that the weight would eventually kill him. He never truly minded though. Forming any intimate connection with someone else was a foreign concept to Hawks so adhering to these rules wasn’t that much of a challenge.

Selfishness was frowned upon heavily in hero society, and Hawks never really minded until he met you. You - with your opulent eyes and dazzling smile - somehow made his knees weak. You, who easily unfolded his heart as if it weren’t made out of steel. You who softly reminded him that it was okay, healthy even, to be selfish.

Keigo wanted to permanently paint your cheeks red with laughter, to be the one you looked for in a crowded room, to have the honor of intimately studying your skin under the canopy of falling stars. For the first time in his life, Hawks experienced what it felt like to fall.

But, despite the immense love he had for you, it didn’t change the fact that most of his energy was dedicated to the entire population of Japan. Sacrifice never really held meaning to him until his mind started conjuring vivid nightmares where your fingertips slipped from his, realities where he watched helplessly as the stars in your eyes fizzled out.

Every morning when he left the warm comfort of your shared bed, he was met with unsurmountable anxiety. If there was an emergency, God forbid an attack, there was no guarantee he could drop all his duties and protect you. There was a certain detachment he had to undergo just to perform his job well. He couldn’t be the fast and accurate hero Japan needed if he was bogged down with worry.

The thought only occurred to him one night while you were gently massaging and preening his crimson feathers. Each plume had enhanced senses, allowing him to hear the gentle murmurs of praise perfectly clear. It was an ability that made him great for espionage and spy work, filthy things that he preferred not to mention.

Your words of him needing to be a little selfish echoed in his mind.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?” Your head popped up from the curtain of wings, lips tugging into a small smile. “Everything okay?”

Keigo turned so that he was facing you, the comforter under him folding messily, blankets splaying off the edges of the bed. “mm…you know how I always worry about you during patrol?”

His hand reached to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing the tinted hue as you looked up curiously. It was completely quiet aside from the light chirping of crickets outside and the sound of cars passing every now and then down the street. He can hear the slightest hitch in your voice.

“Yeah, and I recall telling you how you didn’t need to worry so much,” You said jokingly, and then with a serious note said “what about it? Are those thoughts a little too loud tonight?”

“Just thinking, I want..I want to give you a part of me, to keep you safe.” His hands nervously ran through his locks and his lips twisted into an almost imperceptible nervous pout. He reached for his back, plucking one of his smaller feathers and lightly tucked it behind your ear. “You’ve always looked so pretty in red.”

Your face was flushed, preferring to look at the ruffled blanket that was on the verge of falling off the bed. “A-are…are you sure? I know how much these feathers mean to you-”

“Please,” he insists with a small kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna keep you safe, no matter how far away I am.”

His voice was earnest.

Vulnerability felt like the frigid wind as it roared in his ears uncomfortably loud. But as inconvenient as it was, loving you was worth the bother.

#keigo x reader #hawks #hawks x reader #mha x reader #Hawks mha #Hawks bnha #Hawks x you #Keigo Takami #Keigo Takami x reader #fluff #romance #My hero academia #Boku no hero academia #bnha x reader

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madame-fear · 1 year ago

Note

Request Enemies to Lover Jaecarys Velaryon. Btw, can you make the reader is the youngest child of Viserys and Alicent?

So, When the reader and Jace still a kid. Jace always teasing the reader, so she hate him. And when Aegon, Luke, and Jace prank Aemond about "The Pink Dread" The reader is mad and punching Jace in the face. When at Driftmark, after the incident of Aemond lose his eye. Jaecarys give the reader a necklace.

When they grow up, they meet again (smut)

*ೃ༄ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐘.ೃ࿐

★ amira speaks : i hope this is what you expected, nonnie !! apologies for my notorious beginner smut writing, and if it seems rushed. — summary : maybe you were never keen about the presence of Jacaerys Velaryon, especially due to the way both of you treated one another so badly, and he was involved with the removal of your brother’s eye. But things change when you both grow, and he returns to King’s Landing. — word count : 4.2k

— pairing : jacaerys velaryon x aunt!targaryen!reader — genre : enemies to lovers, smut

TW | incest, fingering, slight profanity.

The golden dragon hanging from the end of the necklace you usually kept safe on the nightstand next to your bed brightly shone along the flames of the lit candles in the grand library of King’s Landing, leisurely taking a stroll around with echoing footsteps before having, what you could call in a way or another, a family dinner.

The fingers of your free hand gently began twirling the necklace around the fingers you used to hold the locket, gazing down upon it curiously. You had never worn said necklace, and you were, strangely, beginning to doubt whether it would be a proper moment to finally give use to it, or not; as Princess Rhaenyra would return to King’s Landing with her children after years of having moved to Dragonstone.

The necklace was given by none other than Jacaerys Velaryon himself, Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest son, and your nephew. Despite being your nephew, ever since you had use of memory, your relationship wasn’t exactly the best. Ever since childhood, you were one another’s existing bane. Jace continously picked on you, teasing you, and annoying you in general for the mere satisfaction of seeing you get frustrated at him. And for his own fun, as well.

Fighting with Jacaerys as children had always been a constant trouble for both your parents. Arguing for little things, pushing each other, having him ocasionally pull your hair to bother, sticking your tongue out to one another, and even, when your older brother Aemond was teased with The Pink Dread for not having his very own dragon yet, you went as far as using your own physical strength to punch Jacaerys in the face in front of your siblings.

After such event, and being badly scolded by your parents for the fight even if your mother thought you did the right thing, things had never gotten any better. The already tense relationship between the two of you had seemed to worsen when Lucerys took Aemond’s eye after claiming Vhagar. It seemed to have worsened the relationship in the entirety of the family, forcing Rhaenyra to move to Dragonstone.

But before they officially left King’s Landing, you were gifted a golden necklace with the figure of a dragon hanging from the end by Jacaerys. Noticing how you were disheartened by the way your brother Aemond brutally lost his eye and you spent the entirety of the time after the fight that lead to the incident trying to comfort him, part of him felt a certain hint of guilt by simply observing how much of a genuinely concerned, and loving sister you were even if Aemond deserved to lose his eye.

Reluctantly, even if the slight thought of forgiving him and/or his brother for what they did to your brother never crossed through your mind, you accepted his gift merely out of politeness; quietly thanking him afterwards with a disdainful expression on your face. And Jace wasn’t expecting any less, but that was the first time that he understood how you felt with a slight compassion, knowing you didn’t have anything to do with the irresponsible actions of your siblings, and you were much calm and tender than they would ever be.

Though, none of you had spoken to each other after that to keep contact. Not even through raven letters, and neither you had worn the necklace Jace gifted you because of what it represented to you, and the appalling memories that came with it. But, for the first time after quite some years, you supposed it would be proper to wear the locket as they would arrive back to the Keep for a few days. Not because Jacaerys had given it to you, simply because you were filled with the pride of how dragons carried the legacy of your House.

With a bit of an abrupt movement, your stroll stopped; lifting your gaze from the necklace twirled around your fingers, observing the bookshelves to scan for your favourite book. The moment you found it with your stare, an exhaled huff escaped harshly from you, not recalling to have placed it in a bookshelf you obviously weren’t able to reach due to your height.

A faint jingling sound was made as you continued to firmly, yet carefully hold the necklace while you began to clumsily tiptoe. You extended your hand as high as you could reach, trying to at least get the book drop to the floor and have the opportunity of taking it in your hands. Several frustrated huffs were heard rolling off from your nostrils, barely grasping the book with the tip of your fingers.

You never realised you weren’t the only one passing through the library, until another hand appeared by your side, and took the book you were continously trying to reach with no success at all, lowering it to you. As you turned around to see who had been the one to help you reach your book, you encountered yourself with Jacaerys, much to your surprise. You had expected him and the rest of his family to arrive a bit later. You wished you could deny the fact that, he had grown up and matured for the better good.

“Nephew. I had expected to see you later, in the evening.” with a gentle movement, you took the book from him as he offered it to you. His arm then returned to hide behind his back, along his other arm. The same way you thought he seemed much beautifully matured, he thought you were absolutely endearing. A true Valyrian delicacy. “And so did we, but we arrived earlier, and decided to revisit King’s Landing after many years before the evening dinner.” he retorted.

The prince’s coffee coloured gaze towards your own seemed fiery. The atmosphere was tense, but strangely enough it was not a spiteful tension. His eyes moved from your own, to your other free hand, holding the necklace he had gifted you as a young boy. Tilting his head a bit, a brief jeering grin formed upon his plushy rosy lips. “Delightful to see you once again after many years, aunt. And even more delightful, is to see you holding the necklace I gifted you.” as much as he himself wasn’t pleased to admit it, such gift was a way of apologising for the incident with your brother’s eye, having noticed how you grieved the moment along Aemond, comforting him every second of it. Discreetly you nibbled on your lower lip, holding tight the book against your chest and fixed your stare on the necklace.

You might have forgotten to actually use it on you. But you were caught off guard, having assumed they would arrive for dinner. “Don’t feel too cocky. I was simply going to wear it tonight out of politeness for you, and because dragons greatly represent our legacy as House Targaryen.” he gawked upon you, seemingly scanning every inch of you as you spoke. Throughout the years after the eye incident, he had assumed you certainly looked more graceful than ever, and he wasn’t wrong in the slightest bit. “I see.” was all he said. His arms remained behind of him, sneering at you. “May I have the honours of helping you put the necklace on, aunt?” though his inquiry seemed oddly suspicious to you, you slowly nodded, extending your arm, and passing the necklace to his hand. “You may.”

Jacaerys swiftly took the necklace from your hand, approaching you with quiet footsteps to stand behind of you. The Prince, with a gentle movement of his fingers removed part of your hair that covered the back of your neck, tossing it to one side. The vainilla scent that you carried was charmingly intoxicating his nostrils, it made him feel dumbfounded. And most certainly, it was a scent that Jace would never get off his mind.

Jace brought the necklace around your neck, fastening it securely. He then took the pendant and delicately placed it in the center of your chest, adjusting it until it hung perfectly. The golden dragon shape brightly shone, hanging near your cleavage. Once he was done, he stepped to your side, admiring the way the necklace highlighted your beauteous features. It was the first time he ever saw that necklace on you, and the sight wasn’t disappointing at all.

“You look very beautiful. The dragon pendant highlights your beauty, aunt.” his fingers glided the necklace, until it slowly reached the dragon near your cleavage and lifted it slightly with his index finger to observe more carefully. His compliment, as much as it was a mere teasing provocation to watch your cheeks become flustered, there was no lie in it.

Curiously, you raised your eyebrow, feeling how a crimson tint slowly crept on your face at his compliment. It was a strange behaviour, keeping in mind how you were his existing bane, and you were his. It had always been that way, but not anymore, it seemed. “I would expect you to say I look like a jester, but I will accept that kind compliment.” a sneer escaped from his lips at your remark. You were right, a few years earlier he would have refered to you as some sort of jester to merely annoy you, but Jacaerys had no more need of provoking a frustrated reaction out of you.

“You don’t look bad yourself, nephew. But may I ask, what changed?” jacaerys discreetly leaned closer to you as you spoke, in a way that you could even feel the warmth irradiating from his body. Ever since the incident with your brother’s eye and the necklace he had gifted you as some sort of apology, deep inside of him quite some things changed. The point of view Jace had on you was now different; you weren’t your brothers, you were a much sweeter soul even if both of you spend your entire childhood together fighting with one another, and he had realised that the momebt he moved to Dragonstone.

A brief moment of silence loomed over you awkwardly. A sigh escaped from him before answering, feeling a bit flustered himself, especially noticing the way you gawked on him. “After the incident with your brother’s eye, I realised how different you were from the rest of your siblings. You were much sweeter and calmer, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself at that moment.” a little grin danced at the corner of your lips upon hearing his words. He had indeed changed in every sense, even if you were still reluctant of 'befriending' him. More mature. “I never wanted to send a raven letter because I felt too embarrassed, supposing you would probably ignore them. But after that moment, you always lurked on my thoughts, imagining how gracefully you must’ve grown. And I wasn’t wrong.”

Tenderly as he spoke, your footsteps brought you closer to him, placing a warm hand on his arm. You knew the previous flustered glint on your cheeks had simply grown to become even more notorious, especially after his statements, but there was no shame in hiding it anymore. You remembered how upset you were as you stood by Aemond’s side to overwhelm him with sisterly comfort, rather than focusing on the Velaryon boys to try and physically fight with them in defense of your brother. You remembered exactly how you supported your brother’s statement that, Vhagar had chosen her new rider and Aemond had all the rights to claim her. But, there was something different in having him gifting you something before moving to Dragonstone after the chaos provoked on your families due to the loss of Aemond’s eye.

Even if you never supported what they did to your brother, you understood why they both defended themselves the way they did. And Jace had no particular fault in the moment.

At the feeling of your touch, his body stiffened. The way his heart beat felt fiercely accelerated, as if it could come out of his chest at any given moment. Briefly, he lowered his gaze to your hand on his arm, but returned his coffee eyes back to your own as your other hand was placed on his cheek comfortingly. “And I couldn’t agree with you any more, Jacaerys. After your gift, I couldn’t help but wonder how you must’ve looked all grown, and today I was particularly keen in meeting you again.” the tension lurked between the two of you, as if there was something much more than an aunt re-encountering herself with her nephew, whom was her childhood enemy and were always involved in fights with one another.

This time, it was him who was victim of a notorious fluster spreading across his cheeks. The warmth of your hand could make him melt right under you, and even softly released from his lips a trembling, quiet sigh. It was hard to control himself in front of you. So hard. Jace had never thought that the idea of needing you in every possible sense would ever reach him. He would’ve preferred to despise you like he always did, but this time he had to fight the urge of lowering his face, and kissing your beauteous lips.

Timidly, his hands were placed on your waist, holding a firm grip on them as he pressed your body against his. Jace was a bit dumbfounded at the idea of you seemingly genuinely being eager in meeting him again after the first time in many years — and even wearing the necklace he gifted you! It was like a dream, almost. “(y/n)...” your name slipped from his lips mindlessly as the tip of your thumb tenderly caressed his soft, pale skin in a continous movement. Your hearbeat mimicked his own, unbeknownst to Jace. The nerves overwhelmed you greatly, causing for your hand to slightly tremble.

His lips were partly open unconsciously. You needed him, like he needed you. Tiptoeing, you allowed your deepest, well-hidden desires come out to light for once and for all. For a moment, your lips insecurely grasped against his own, but it was already too late. Fluttering your eyes shut, your lips took his own with a smooth movement to drown yourselves into a shyly needy kiss. It was the first time you had ever kissed a boy, but for Jacaerys it already seemed like you had proper experience.

Both of you moved your faces and your lips just enough to properly kiss, and feel the depth of your feelings. The hand that caressed his cheek swiftly moved to the back of his head, interwining your fingers around the brunette strands of his hair, as the other hand gripped his arm nearly with your nails. A fiery heat sensation escaped from your bodies, as the eldest Velaryon tightened his grip on your waist, trying to pull you as close to him as he could.

Each other’s breathing sent ticklish sensations against your skins, giving slight shivers. His hands slowly descended to your hips, warmly caressing them. None of you could hide what you had felt for a long time, not having been able to express it after the incident with your brother’s eye. A quiet plea escaped from you in between the fervent kisses upon feeling his hand teasingly rubbing itself around your hips.

“Nyke dōrī ēdan lust tolī ao, sodjisto. Yn nyke gaomagon sir.” (I had never felt lust after you, aunt. But I do now.) he softly whispered in High Valyrian, grasping his lips against your very own to tease you, before he gave into the sweet taste of your mouth again. His grip tightened, both of his hands swiftly descending to the underpart of your bottom. Quietly, you gasped. “Urnēptre ziry naejot nyke.” (Show it to me.) you retorted confidently with a growing grin at the corner of your lips, pulling apart softly to stare into his eyes.

Those words were all he needed to hear to interwine both of his hands under your backside with a strong grip, and lift you from the floor, nearly tossing you to over his shoulder as if you weighted less than a feather. Carrying you and walking some short steps, he placed you on the nearest table the library had; being a rather large, wooden table enough for you to sit on it.

“You asked for it.” the prince growled under his breath quietly, leaning his face closer to your neck, until the point that his soft breathing and the feeling of his plushy lips tickled your skin tenderly. Not that he planned to do much to you as you were in a public place, and you risked the fact that you might get seen by someone who passed by. But, he did intend on leaving a good, pleasing memory scarred across your mind. With gentle pecks across your neck near your jawline, his hands travelled across your legs. His fingertips glided on the silky texture of your dress in a leisure manner, appreceating every second of the moment.

You briefly leaned your head back, allowing him more access to your skin, much to his delight. The soft pecks turned into slight nibbling, using his teeth to try and mark your neck. And, how sweetly you tasted. Every bite, every kiss, and every touch he gave you, only increased Jace’s craving for the entirety of your being. How could have he hated and teased you once?

A little drowned pant escaped from your lips, feeling how your underwear grew wet from the stimulation he was giving you. His fingers slipped inside your dress, gently lifting it to your knees, continuing to feel every inch of your delicate skin as he approached your thighs. Your legs trembled, as if they screamed to feel more of him. His fingers were wrapped around the waistband of your underwear, slowly beginning to slide them down through your legs to tease you. The quiet panting and the lipbiting that came from you was more than obvious that you were more than needy. And so was he, but he knew how to keep it perfectly hidden.

As he removed your underwear, his fingertips went back to your thigs, sneakily making their way to your crotch. A quivering sigh was abruptly exhaled from you, trying to move your pelvis closer to his fingers and accelerate the process. A little smirk was drawn to the corner of his lips. “So fucking needy, aren’t you?” jace teased, staring into your eyes for a brief moment, but they were closed shut. No word was able to escape from your lips, all the words you tried to stutter were trapped in your throat, drowning with some retained moans.

Continuing to stare at you, his fingertips moved across your slit in a slow manner, rubbing it gently. The moistness from your core made his fingers wet, being pleased from the reaction Jace got coming from you. A huffed pant escaped violently from your lips at the warm contact of his fingers being rubbed across your delicate, moistened folds. “Jace... Fuck,” you cursed lowly, unconsciously spreading your legs wider to give him more access. “Q-Quit teasing. I-I need you...” as much as you weren’t the type to plea, or beg, you didn’t have time to take risks. You knew your brother, any other one of your siblings, or even a passing maiden could spot the two of you. Not only you weren’t exactly keen in anyone catching Jace fingering you, but as well you could feel your core aching and throbbing for him. Painfully hot, and dreadful.

Gods, he wished he could keep teasing you eternally. It was so sweet to observe every nuance in your facial expressions upon the contact of his fingers caressing your pussy; unfortunately, much like you, he felt the burning desire of feeling the warmth and tightness of your inner walls around his fingers... For now, he would use his fingers. As long as you both are in a public space of the Keep. “As you wish, my princess.” he retorted in a teasing manner, placing his other hand tightly on one of your thighs to keep it well spread, and abruptly entering two of his fingers inside of you. Jace noticed how you clenched your jaw as to drown any type of loud moan that could escape from your graceful lips.

Jacaerys moved his fingers inside of you in a gentle, yet fervid manner; enough to please you. A slight bulge felt tightened on his pants at all the continous overstimulation from your quivering moans, trembling legs, pleased expressions, wetness, and most importantly, the way your inner walls felt too comforting around his fingers for him to want to take them off from you. “Moan for me.” a sudden heat overwhelmed your chest at his comand, his movements with his fingers becoming a bit rougher as he continously made in-and-out movements, occasionally wiggling them inside of you. All the while, his lips returned to send you shivers down your spine with the way he kissed, and nibbled in your soft spots. It was enough to make you wetter, and he adored it.

Upon his words, you felt more vulnerable. As if the all the effort you put into being quiet vanished away from you, being weaker. Your clenched jaw loosened slightly, allowing your lips to be partly open, releasing all the pleading sounds you were containing for him. “J-Jace, please... Don’t stop.” you were never supposed to be in this situation, and you would have never imagined you’d find yourself in it. Part of you felt guilt when your subconscious reminded you how Jacaerys was involved in the incident of Aemond’s eye, but another part of you... Understood his motives. Jace felt too good, and his nature had changed to a more polite, soft one, even if he could be a sexually fiery dragon.

“And I don’t plan to.” he responded, placing kisses around your jawline. His breath mimicked your own, being sharpened from the stimulation. He was more than keen in meeting you in your quarters after dinner, where you both would be alone by yourselves, and you wouldn’t have to contain the craving you had for one another’s bodies.

After his movements have leisurely intensified, you felt as if an inner type of hot electricity waved on your inside; going from tightening your chest, to forming a little knot on your stomach. You knew that, due to all the stimulation, you would be about to come right on his fingers. Jace knew already, as he could hear the way you were loudly groaning in pleasure out for his name, and besides, you were tight and moist enough to reach your orgasm. “Come for me, issa dōna rūklon.” his lips ascended softly from your jawline to your ear, nibbling provokingly on your earlobe, making his movements with his fingers faster, and even taking the time to softly caress your inside as his others fingers rubbed sloppily your moist folds.

Arching your back towards him and wrapping your arms around his torso, using your nails to dig into his back, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. The throbbing ache of needing him inside of you had been relieved, releasing a scream of pleasure as you violently discharged your slick into his fingers. His breath was violently hitched, as his heart was loudly pounding against his chest from the adrenaline that giving you pleasure brought him. And there was too much to come now that you both knew you were free to discover what intimacy felt like with one another.

Panting, you rested your face in the crooked of your neck as you felt how you were still in the high of having released your coming. Your nails weren’t digging into his back anymore, now you were slightly hugging him, dumbfoundedly smiling to yourself, as Jace slowly removed your fingers from your inside, still containing your slick in them as if they were some sort of thropy. “I... Enjoyed that, Jacaerys.” you mumbled, noticing how you felt slightly flustered at your own words, fluttering your eyes shut and giving into the warm feeling of his embrace. You could nearly fall asleep there.

Sweetly, Jace placed a kiss on top of your head, beginning to caress with his fingers some strands of your hair. His heart felt as if there were butterflies fluttering around it just for you, riding still the high from the satisfaction of knowing you had a pleasing moment with him. “And so did I, (y/n).” he retorted quietly, allowing you to remain with your face buried on the crook of his neck, and briefly rest there until your legs stopped trembling.

Placing his chin on top of your head, he stared off at the distance as his fingers continued to play around with your silky hair. Your scent was beautiful, and truly graceful. Made him feel more at ease. Jacaerys knew, that your siblings wouldn’t be exactly eager in having him as your courter, but it didn’t matter to him. He would do anything to keep offering you any type of love, or pleasure that you needed and most certainly deserved.

“I enjoyed it, my love. But for now, we should keep our little intimacy as a secret; I am not done with you, yet.”

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#jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys strong x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace velaryon x reader #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd fic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader smut #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader smut

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thatanimewriter · 4 months ago

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𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘶𝘦.

← previous chapter next chapter coming soon →

❝ 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. ❞ ── 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘯. 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

you used to be a bodyguard for sunday and robin, but after a certain accident involving robin, you've been stripped of your job to work for siobhan. you've never seen sunday or robin since until this year's charmony festival.

── 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 + 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

dreamflux reef was a stark contrast to the vibrant and bustling golden hour. instead of incessant chatter and music or advertisements competing for attention, a serene hush befell the rooftops and alleyways.

despite the lack of action in the dimly lit town, if one could even call it that, sunday's heart raced as if he'd been chased through penacony. a dull ache ebbed in his torso, and he frantically glanced downwards for what he thought might be a gaping hole in his body. the wings furled around his body twitched uncomfortably.

tentatively, he walked through the alleyway he had been transported to and awkwardly nodded in acknowledgement to those he made accidental eye contact with. his lips pressed into a thin line and his hands shook lightly when he broke into a clearing built of rooftops.

his gaze hardened as he spotted gallagher, marching towards him to gain clarity.

a gentle smile tugged at your lips as you conversed with robin. you hadn't seen her for so long, but you never forgot her melodic voice when penacony plastered her on every surface possible. even little drink decorations in dreamjolt hostelry.

"has this been where you've hidden all these years?" robin wondered, glancing around the reef with an unexpected element of awe. "it's so different to the rest of penacony."

you chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of your neck. "ah... yeah, i guess so." robin looked at you curiously, and you sighed. curse her for her cute looks and kind heart. "i've always lived here. you know i was always more of a servant to the family than anything else."

she hummed disappointedly. "have you ever spoken with my brother since you were let go? i haven't seen you around."

your eyes narrowed at the mention of sunday. "he's the one who let me go, so no. at least, not until you went missing. he's been pestering me daily otherwise."

"he let you go?"

"never mind that. i'm sure he'll be glad to see you when he arrives. you're very blessed to have someone who cares so much for you," you said, giving robin a gentle but genuine smile.

"yes, i'm very lucky to have him by my side," she responded, unable to repress her own smile. "i'm worried about him though..."

"what's he done this time?"

robin sighs as she reflects on her past interactions with sunday before she was 'killed'. "it just seems like there's a lot on his mind."

you nodded slowly, but didn't give your input. you didn't know who he was between firing you and robin's disappearance. you resisted the urge to roll your eyes when you heard familiar footsteps approaching. if one thing hadn't changed since childhood, it was sunday's gait.

"robin!" he called, hair slightly disheveled and chest heaving.

her angelic face lit up instantly. "brother!"

you gave a tight-lipped smile and backed into the shadows as the siblings ran to meet each other in a warm embrace. a bitter chill crawled underneath your skin as you subconsciously picked at your nails. you waved lazily when robin caught your eyes for a moment before turning your back on your childhood friends. you yawned as you slowly drifted through the streets to your front door.

the oak siblings watched your figure gradually disappear into the blue haze that filled dreamflux reef, and sunday sighed. he transported himself back in time to when he broke the news that you would be fired from being a bodyguard. similarly, you turned away from him and the last remaining memory of you was your back until he begrudgingly reunited with you.

"brother, you love them, don't you?" she asked delicately, noting the way his shoulders tensed and his breath hitched in his throat.

"perhaps i was." he closed his eyes, concealing the conflict that thrashed in his golden irises.

"was?"

sunday's jaw clenched and he tucked an arm behind him, disguising his fist behind a wall of normalcy. "they failed to keep you from harm, and some of my attraction may have been due to their capabilities, but you take priority over any fickle romances of our youth."

robin's eyes softened at his rare confession. "we're still in our youth," she joked, hoping sunday's discomfort would ease.

"i need you to be safe, i don't want to take any other chances," he concluded, resisting the urge to reach out and caress her blue hair.

"you should follow them," she suggested.

"why?" his feathers ruffled in retaliation. "there is nothing to gain from chasing after the past."

robin sighed at his stubbornness, wings deflating slightly. "you have not been told the truth about my attack," she admitted shakily. "you should hear the full story, if not to confirm your beliefs."

sunday stared at her in silence, debating whether or not to follow through with her wishes. his arm fell from behind his back to rest by his side, and his fist relaxed. "only because you asked."

a rap at your front door had you carelessly tossing a tea towel onto the counter and a frustrated groan tore from your throat. as you spied an awfully familiar figure through the window, you swung the door open and slammed it behind you, causing sunday's wings to twitch with surprise.

you frowned as you leaned against your door, arms crossed over your chest. "i thought we were done," you said, tapping your foot impatiently.

"i wouldn't be here if robin didn't tell me to be here," he relented. you hummed in response, scouring his face for any sign of dishonesty.

"fine." you opened the door once more and obnoxiously gestured for him to come inside as if you were a personal butler. sunday scoffed, but allowed himself inside your humble abode.

his wings tightened around his torso as your scent invaded his nostrils and embraced his figure gently. his eyes raked over some of the worn out furniture and dim lighting. unlike his quarters, it felt as if someone lived in the space. it was a small apartment, everything shared a room and only makeshift dividers created designated zones.

sunday found himself frozen in your space. what he had always believed to be a grand environment you'd surrounded yourself with had been torn to shreds at his feet as reality burned into his retinas. an unfamiliar twinge of guilt pulled at his heart as he realised, even as a child, he hadn't thought about your life away from him a single time. you were always there until you weren't.

"out with it then," you demanded, seating yourself on your couch.

"what happened that day? when robin was shot."

a silence hung in the air and your eyes widened slightly at his sudden curiosity. you shuffled in your seat and arched an eyebrow.

"you only want to know what happened now?" you pressed.

"robin said i wasn't told the full truth," sunday mumbled, finding himself awkwardly standing by the doorway. his heart pounded at the power you had over him in that moment, and his palms were coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

you pushed the blanket-clad ottoman towards him with your foot. "sit. i know this is gonna be a long conversation."

"thank you..." he mumbled, stiffly taking a seat and folding his hands on top of his lap.

"tell me what you've been told. i can fill in the gaps," you offered, leaning back into the couch.

sunday hesitated slightly. "i was only told that robin was shot in the neck and was admitted to hospital."

you bit your lip and heaved a deep breath. you liked everything in your home — maybe not sunday — and didn't want to ruin the homey aura you'd created.

"and who told you this story?" your tone pierced his ears and sent a wave of adrenaline through his veins as if you were a predator who had set their eyes on its prey.

"gopher wood," sunday responded.

you laughed dryly. "yeah, of course he omits the bit where i died twice in the same hospital robin was kept."

sunday's brain short-circuited at your comment and temporarily, he couldn't hear anything but his erratic heartbeat pounding away in his eardrums. "you what...?" he mumbled weakly.

"i'll get the file for you if you don't believe me," you added, swinging yourself off the couch to dig through a cabinet. "it was on the news, like, everywhere though. not sure how gopher managed to keep it from you, but he always did hate me. probably worried i would break you free of his control," you rambled casually.

the halovian's stomach churned uncomfortably and his throat constricted as you handed him the case. "i..." his voice died in his throat as his hands gently pried open the file as if it would crumble to dust beneath his fingers and bury itself into your rug.

he exhaled shakily as he scanned the text carefully.

shot several times...

knife wounds on the back and arms...

flatlined at 2:31 am...

resuscitated at 2:35 am...

flatlined again at 3:17 am...

sunday licked his lips nervously as he removed some of the case photos from the sleeve. terror constricted around his neck as his eyes widened seeing your once delicate skin bathed in blood and torn apart mercilessly. his mind overlayed the images with your younger self, and he found himself needing to regurgitate his lunch.

you pat his back as he hung over your kitchen sink, breath stuttering irregularly as reality crashed over his head and the shards of gopher's lies dug into his skin.

"come on, lay down," you mumbled, pulling him over to your bed. "gonna take your shoes off, 'kay?"

you weren't entirely sure why you were somewhat pampering him in his episode of shock, disbelief and probably trauma. as you gently pushed him to rest on his back, you noted his conflicted expression when he looked at you.

"i'm gonna go pick something up to make dinner, stay here," you sighed, pulling the covers over him. "won't be long."

his hand gripped your wrist as you pulled away. "don't go," he pleaded. "i'm scared of what i'll do when i'm alone..."

your face softened at his vulnerability. "alright..."

a tense silence filled your home before he eventually sat upright, though he wanted to burrow himself into your soft comforter and nest into your scent.

"can i see?" he whispered. you furrowed your brows at his question. "the scars, i mean."

you opened your mouth to protest, but turned around and removed your shirt, fiddling with it in your lap as you awaited his reaction. tenderly, sunday's gloved fingers ghosted over the scar tissue that decorated your back, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. when his touch ceased, you pulled your shirt back on, awkwardly maneuvering to face him once again.

"i'm sorry. for not learning of the truth sooner," he said, staring into your eyes.

you broke contact first, glancing at your bedside table. "'s not your fault, i guess."

"i'm glad you're no longer a bodyguard, though," he admitted sheepishly.

"what?"

"i don't want you to end up like that ever again." sunday's larger wings tightened around his waist.

you paused at his concern and chuckled awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. "where's this coming from? you're supposed to hate my guts, i'm kinda scared right now."

"i was wrong for that. i realise that now," he began, debating taking your hand in his. "i don't know... seeing you like that made me think of when we were kids, before you were forced into the bodyguard position."

"well-"

"knowing i lost you twice and i was there with robin makes me scared. maybe not me, but my younger self?" he gave a half-assed smile at his own confusion. "losing you was my worst nightmare when we were kids. i wanted us to be together forever, but i don't recognise you anymore."

you sighed and reached out to ruffle his hair. "people change. even without what happened to robin and i. that's just life." sunday sat in silence at your statement and you leaned forward to tug at his cheeks to pull a smile from him.

"what are you doing?" he asked, words obscured slightly due to your meddling.

you released him from your hold and climbed off your bed. "come on, i need to get groceries for dinner tonight, and robin's gonna come looking for you soon."

reluctantly, he swung his legs over the side and tugged his shoes on again. as you led him out the door, his focus lingered on your bed, memorising the warmth and your fragrance that slept alongside you.

"i guess i'll see you around, then..." you said, scuffing your shoe along the concrete. another spike of discomfort pinged at sunday's chest at the idea of you being stabbed by a monster each time you wanted to return home. the worry grew tenfold as he was reminded of the truth to robin's accident.

without thinking, he pulled you in for a hug, relishing in your presence in his arms. he had been starved of this for years, and only until this moment did he realise how much he missed you.

your lips parted slightly at his sudden embrace, and your vision misted over. slowly, you lifted your arms to return the hug, allowing yourself to relax into his hold. a tear rolled down your face and a hand came to wipe it from your face.

"i missed this..." you whispered hoarsely.

"me too."

TAGLIST: (if your name is in bold, i can't tag you in the post-)

@galagarts @junyueyin @i-am-tiredd @caeruslumiere @abyssmal-skies @jellofishuu @axerrri @the-cottage-dragon @qwnelisa @velovicy @sweetistic @zuoran03 @jar-03 @ukiyo-ikigai @immahuman @tamikahoshiko @b1loop @queenothegeeks @shadowypeachsweets @zoriaisasimp

#honkai star rail #hsr #sunday #honkai star rail sunday #hsr sunday #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #honkai star rail sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #honkai star rail imagines #hsr imagines #sunday imagines #honkai star rail sunday imagines #hsr sunday imagines #- 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

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six-eyed-samurai · 5 months ago

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YOU HAVE 30 UNREAD MESSAGES...

SUMMARY: Rindou loves you and all but...you really aren't supposed to be spamming his phone during a meeting right now.... A/N: This is absolute crack, based off a recent convo and dedicated to my unhinged moot @plebbypebblepleb WARNINGS: Sanzu on drugs and swearing

>>look at this cat I found

>>he's so cute!!!!!!

>>IM GONNA DIE FROM CUTENESS can we pls pls adopt him???

>>never mind

>>HE BIT ME

Rindou felt his eye twitch. He discreetly swiped away the notifications on his pinging phone away under the table. Thankfully no one had noticed yet, although Ran was grinning slyly at him he always was.

Twenty messages.

Barely ten minutes had even gone by in the meeting.

Luckily he had turned off volume for his phone. Mikey wouldn't be too happy to have his Bonten meeting so frequently interrupted so unprofessionally. Rindou didn't have much interest in being laughed at or questioned by the others either.

>>riiiiiiin

>>I was watching some videos

>>would you become a 100 foot boa constructor who eats British children boiled and gets skinned to be used as socks or boots for a Russian lady I consumed three centuries ago (she tasted like coconut)

I'm in a meeting<<

And no???<<

Rindou continued to nod at Mikey's words, doing his utmost best to divide his attention between his rapidly typing fingers and his boss while Ran ducked his head under the table curiously and came up with a wink and a very obvious smirk. Koko eyes them both suspiciously.

He was used to this. Absolutely. One thing that came with dating you was that you had a tendency to spam his phone with updates of what you were doing, odd things you had seen, the most creative of questions and pictures bordering on unhinged.

He wouldn't change it for anything, of that Rindou was certain. He loved you to Pluto and back and in an every day fight he'd take your side over Ran (even despite the elder Haitani’s “miserable” theatrics of supposed betrayal). The texts livened up the dreary work of being part of the number one most wanted criminal gang.

But…

>>I'M NOT FINISHED

>>or drink fruit juice that will give you the seven most deadly diseases

Both are terrible<<

>>[image attached]

WTF<<

>>Like it?? <33

I don't want close up pics of your feet<<

>>how dare you

…it was quite the inconvenience when he was supposed to be working.

Like right now.

Rindou reached up and rubbed his temples. Mikey was getting to the important part and he was really struggling to concentrate. It wasn't like you didn't know he was busy. He had specifically mentioned it today. Rindou couldn't fault you either - this was just your love language and…this was probably revenge for him misplacing your favourite shirt.

He briefly considered ignoring your texts for now, until he could answer them later. But then it'd probably spiral to a 100+ and the vibrations were really starting to get to him. And he did once promise to never ignore anything you said after you apologized for talking too much. You might even call him.

Ugh. What a conundrum.

Ran’s smile widened and a new notification sprang up on Rindou’s phone.

>>Ah ah ah lil bro

>>texting your gf in a meeting?

>>you're very obvious about it

>>I'm sure Mikey will notice soon~~

Great. Two idiots were spamming up his phone now. Couldn't he ever catch a break? He caught Kakucho’s frown at him and adjusted his poker face again.

Shut up<<

You're on your phone too<<

>>I'm just warning you~~

Rindou exhaled sharply and kicked his brother under the table. Childish, but Ran was a child and he deserved it.

>>Rin???

>>guess what!!

>>my fav singer just dropped a new album!!

>>can we buy it later

>>pleaseeeeee

“Haitani Shithead! What are you doing under the table?”

Crap, Sanzu caught him. Rindou shrugged, leaning away from his side-eyeing neighbor. “Nothing, just need to arrange some things on my phone for some debts to be collected,” He lies casually.

The pinkhead is probably too high to realize the holes in the fib. Thankfully he lets it go with another pop of a pill. “Sure, don’t gotta be so secretive.”

“Also, don’t call me Shithead.”

>>[3 images attached]

>>chat wake up what is going on in my friends gc rn

Yes, Rindou wanted to scream, he absolutely had to be secretive…with the cursed pictures you had just sent him. Thirty unread messages already and the meeting wasn’t even ending yet! God, Ran wasn’t helping either - he too was now spamming Rindou’s chat.

>>rindou and (y/n)

>>sitting in a tree

>>k

>>i

>>s

You know what, he could make his excuses later. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Rindou massaged his temples again, sighed deeply and looked down on his phone.

He blocked the both of you.

***

Of course it came back to bite his ass when he went home later that night: having taken extreme offense to the block you had promptly banished Rindou out of your once shared bedroom and he was exiled to the couch.

Which was being hogged by Ran who claimed he was there first for his sixth nap of the day.

Maybe next time he should just “lose” his phone before a meeting.

#rindou x reader #rindou x y/n #rindou x you #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani x you #rindou haitani x y/n #rindou haitani #tr x reader #crack fic #Sunny's Works

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jarofstyles · 11 months ago

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Illicit- 4

Heyyyy my loves! Here is part 4 of Illicit and a better look into Harry's behavior without Y/N... not a nice man but he's OUR man <3

Check out our Patreon where we have exclusive writings and early access to the next 2/3 parts of Illicit!

Series Masterlist

Wc- 3.3k

warnings- asshole h, infidelity, slight violence, paparazzi

---------

Harry was reaching a boiling point.

Katherine had stolen him away from Y/N for the night, under the guise her father set as a business dinner. Said he had something to discuss with him at a new, up and coming restaurant that it was imperative that he came tonight. He had to peel himself away from Y/N who was curled on his couch with her laptop in her lap, doing a bit of clothing shopping while he leaned against her to help veto and approve on things she was on the fence about. He had been having a very good time being domestic this afternoon to be forced away was already pissing him the fuck off.

So to find a table clear of said man and just see his daughter there with a scheming beam on her face? It was the worst possible option. Of course, she assured him that her ‘daddy’ would be coming shortly, but by the time their entrees arrived, Harry was fairly certain of what was happening.

H: I need wine when I get home.

Y/N: Yeah.. someone sent me an article.

Harry’s stomach dropped when she sent the link, an article that must have only been published just a few moments ago. A photo of a preening Katherine across from him had been snuck. Thankfully his face was blank, ever so practiced. She was leaning across the table with a preen all over her face, the angle taken so you couldn’t see the third drink set out for her father who was mysteriously not there.

This had to be a set up. He wasn’t giving the image of the doting, in love boyfriend that Katherine wanted and she was obviously a bit more cunning than he had originally anticipated. He was beginning to piece things together again, and he was getting more furious by the minute.

The real anger stemmed from being taken away from one of the rarer nights he didn’t have work to check up on periodically, and he’d cleared it just for her. It was like she somehow knew how to piss him off out of some fucked up intuition. While Y/N had the owner's manual on how to make him happy, Katherine knew how to make him irrationally angry. Despite his asshole behavior he was still nice compared to the whole plethora of things he wanted to tell her.

He had no qualms about embarrassing her publicly. It’s where she had weakness. Her reputation.

H: I’m leaving in a moment. I have a theory about this. Brant Jr never showed up.

Y/N: Seriously????

H: Yes. What ice cream do you want me to pick up on my way home, my love?

Y/N: ……

Y/N: You’re good, H. Mint Choc pls <3

H: Anything for you. I’ll be home soon. Go get changed into something more comfortable.

Harry tucked his phone back in his pocket, turning to Katherine who had been watching him curiously. “So when are you going to admit you stole your father’s work phone and tricked me here?” He had waited until the waitress was in earshot. This was a story he wished would actually show up on TMZ. “Because I was having a very important evening and was torn away from people I had meticulously scheduled to come here and discuss ‘emergency business’ changes. I didn’t ask you to dinner because I didn’t have time for these silly things, and because I didn’t want to.” Harry tugged his wallet out. “You are childish. I knew that. But messing with important business shit because you’re trying to trick me into a dinner and planting one of your friends at another table to get some clicks for your weird fangirls living vicariously and extra money?” He pointed directly where he had found one of her friends, the redhead’s eyes widening as Harry caught her phone up and gave his stone cold glare. “My business isn’t a fucking game, Katherine. Wasting my time when I’m doing things because you’re throwing a childish tantrum because I can’t shower you in affection every hour of the day? What did we discuss last time?”

“Harry, darling, you’re being a bit loud-” Katherine chuckled nervously, eyes wide as she had been figured out. The waitress and tables close could clearly hear him. She hated negative attention and had been working at trying to market them as some sort of ��it couple’, which wasn’t going to work for him anymore. He was growing tired of this scheme and really needed her to just end it so the contract could be over, null and void.

“I can be louder, if you want.” He said ruthlessly. “I can let all of your little friends know the image of our relationship you paint is a sham, that you try to make me out as someone who I never had been, and never will be for you. I am not in love with you, Katherine. I told you, if you wanted to date me that it would be on my terms. If that makes me an ‘asshole’” He sneered, “So be it. I’ve never lied about my stance in dating you. I let you prance around and use my name to get into clubs that your own last name is too irrelevant to get you into, I allow you to pose photographs of me though you know I despise it when you do, I allow you to use my yacht and I let you use my home in Los Angeles before I sold it to have one of those stupid influencer parties you love to post about although, I know you hate half of those girls.” He knew his voice was carrying, but he didn’t care. “You are the one hurting yourself by making this relationship out to be anything but it is. A means to an end.” For both of them, but she would know now just how onto her he’s been.

“I’ve let it go for a while. I’ve allowed you to do what made you feel better because if it kept you off of my back while I handled things on my own, I was fine.You even harassed my friends for the lake house keypad number, which is fucking pathetic.” it really was and Harry had been mad since then, but this was growing past a disrespect he was willing to accept. “ But you’re fucking with business now. I will not ever stand for it. If I say no, it means no. If I say not tonight, it means not tonight. If I say to stop calling, stop fucking calling me.” He let his voice seethe while his face remained mostly it’s usual cold sneer, throwing a few bills on the table. “Continue fucking with my business and see how that ends up. Your father could build up a company, and I can take it down just as fast.”

He stood up, righting his jacket as he watched her pale face, knowing he had just scared her. He didn’t care. Maybe there was something wrong with him, but he truly, to the bottom of his heart, didn’t care about her feelings. The one girl he cared about was waiting for her mint chocolate chip ice cream.

“Are- Are you threatening me?” She shriekd quietly, making Harry pause, calling their waitress all the way over.

“It’s not a threat, but a promise.” There was no questioning that he meant it. Looking towards the waitress, he handed her a generous tip and nodded, leaving the restaurant to find flashing cameras. One particular flash pissed him off, and catching Harry in a bad mood was not a good thing to do.

His hand shot out, grabbing the surely expensive to the man’s camera, and threw it forcefully onto the pavement. It shattered into little pieces, the lens crackling on the sidewalk and the plastic of the body falling into shards, his blank stare going from the broken beyond repair camera to the sputtering camera man. His face was tomato red while Harry’s jaw remained sharp and clenched, raising a brow in challenge.

“What the fuck! My fucking camera!” He bellowed. “I’m gonna sue the fuck out of you!”

Harry grabbed his business card out from his pocket, handing it to the man. “Reach out. It will be a pleasure to beat you in court.”

His car was in the lot, which he quickly got to and peeled out of the parking lot. He wasn’t even inside of the shop yet when he got a call from Y/N. Her contact photo brought a smile to his face, answering it as he briskly walked inside the automatic doors and grabbed a little basket.

“Hi, my love.” He murmured, making his way towards the back, knowing the exact brand she wanted from the freezer.

“Did you really break a camera?” Y/N squeaked into the phone. It made him laugh, not pausing in his expedition. She was still relatively new to his life and didn’t seem to google him like everyone else who met him. Even if it felt like she was meant to be with him forever, that their souls had always been familiar, she hadn’t seen much of that side of him yet.

“Yes.” He hummed. “Shoved it in my face, blinded me for a moment. I was already angry. The photographers know it's a risk when I’m involved, darling.” It was sort of his thing. If people got too close, hit him with it, intruded on his personal space, he was quick to rid himself of the problem. They were lucky he chose the camera and not the person behind it. Harry really didn’t care, and he knew some would label him as toxic or maybe even crazy, but it wasn’t something he cared about. His temper was notorious.

“Christ! H!” Y/N laughed in disbelief. “Hannah sent me an article. There’s a video circling social media. I haven’t watched it yet.”

“Good. Don’t, it’s a waste of time yeah? Told you I’m an open book for you, sweetheart. Can ask me any questions you’d like when I get back to you.” He tucked the phone between his shoulder and cheek, opening up the freezer door to grab their designated flavors. “Stay comfortable for me, I’m just about to check out and get home t’you. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” It was something Harry wished he could have happen every day. Going home to her. She was the centerpiece of his home now and her absence was palpable when he got home and she was at her own place or out and about.

They said their goodbyes and Harry found himself lost in his head as he used the self check out to pay for their sweets. He avoided most social interaction when he could because everyone always had a favor to ask him, a question, a dig. It was nice to be able to pay and avoid the pointless small talk with a cashier who usually didn’t give an actual shit, or someone who obviously gave far too much of one. His lone wolf lifestyle suited him just fine- but now Y/N fit into it. She wasn’t just anyone, her voice didn’t grate on his nerves, and he was in love with her. He figured adding another lone wolf to his life wouldn’t hurt- not when it was her.

—-

“Harry…” Y/N laughed, licking her spoon clean. “While I am most definitely proud of you for how quickly you can come up with comebacks and witty words, I’d prefer they not be needed at all.” Her smile faded, leaning further into him. The man had stripped himself of his suit and found his clothes after a quick shower, trying to rid himself of the disaster and waste of a night. Now he was going to be with the woman he had been looking forward to spending time with for the rest of the night.

“Unfortunately, s’part of the job.” His thumb rubbed over her shoulder as she leaned into the man, his neediness even more apparent when he’d plucked her up from her spot and sat down to settle her in his lap. “Paparazzi are, for some reason, something that still is a thing and they make a pretty penny on photos of me because I like to dodge them.” Harry was not the stereotype of a nepotism child. He did work for what was given to him but he was under no false pretenses. He knew that he was born into an almost impossible wealth, one that some of his peers had deluded themselves into thinking they could be anything. The so-called ‘self made’ millionaires as if they didn’t have billions to cushion their blow if they were to be shot down. He liked to hide away from the attention part of it the best he could, but sometimes appearing at things was a necessary evil.

“I know.” The angel in his lap grumbled. “I know it is but it still makes me irritated that you have to worry about it. That they’ve gotten so far in your face that you were even able to do that. It’s just rude and invading your privacy.” Her little pout did something to his formerly black, charred heart.

Y/N was his opposite in a good way. She was love and warmth and light and morals. Harry was cold, cruel, darkness. Iron compared to gold. If it were anyone else, he thinks he may be slightly annoyed by their cheerfulness, their optimism. Harry had seen a lot of the world and a lot of the bad sides of people, skeletons hidden in closets and the life of the elite. It was hard to be optimistic at times when he’d seen such hopelessness, but she managed to peel back some of the grimy layers in his dim outlook in life, his cynical snarks and soften the jagged edges just a bit. He wasn’t a changed man- no. He didn’t have rainbows out his ass, he wasn’t a warm being, but he held the new wick that was lit up in a dim glow when it came to her. He could be good to her. Thankfully Y/N wasn’t looking for more. She didn't want to change him.

“Oh, my love.” He sighed, his hand chilled from the ice cream coming up to her chin. “It’s alright. They’ll learn at some point. Besides… It isn’t a normal occurrence when I just go out, not normally. Katherine called them, I’m positive.” The mirth in his eyes returned at the reminder of the woman. “I’m going to call Brant tomorrow and let him know of the antics, but I’m going to threaten again. I don’t want to be under this contract anymore.” His voice quieted, looking at Y/N who dropped her eyes from his. His stomach twisted, knowing where her head went. “Hey, sweetness. Look at me.” He urged, trying to catch her eyes again. “You know that I’m looking for every way out, yeah? If I can’t use that, m’gonna move on to the next idea. It’s hard when I’m contract bound, but I’m going to make her break up with me.”

Honestly, he was surprised she hadn’t just from tonight. It had him suspicious of her. There was no way that her ego wasn’t bruised from his spiked tongue tonight. He’d made sure other people heard the verbal hits, made sure some of it would be sold to the same publication she was trying to make a few bucks off by planting her friends to take photos. There was a prayer in his mind that maybe that would move it on, make her give him up. Surely, she was someone’s dream trophy wife. Sure as fuck not his, but maybe someone else.

“I know. I just hate….” Y/N paused, giving her eyes back to him. “I hate that she makes you so miserable, but I’m glad that you hate her. I feel like an awful human being, but I just hate so much about her and It makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me.”

This was news to Harry, surprisingly enough to actually show on his face. She’d mentioned disliking Katherine before but to see her struggling with her hatred towards the woman who was trying to claim her boyfriend as hers in the public eye, it made him feel even more guilty. He didn’t want this for her, he didn’t want her upset- but he knew that it was his own fault.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N.” He said seriously. “I know that hatred isn’t something that your pretty heart feels a lot so m’sure it does feel a bit off but I promise you, it’s worth hating.” There was a pause, thumb squeezing her jaw slightly and watching as it popped open from the little trick. “If I had to see you out with someone else… I’d be murderous. If another man said you were his, I’d enjoy knocking every tooth from his skull.” His jaw tightened. There was no way. Every time he thought about it it made him ache, so he knew that it must be similar to her. Though he couldn’t imagine Y/N’s gentle soul to be murderous, she at the very least must be angry.

“Cool it, cowboy.” Y/N crooned, watching as his brain was visibly showing his thoughts on his face. “No one is coming to get me. I’m all yours.” It was like she was soothing a dragon. To be fair, Harry was pretty sure that if it could, smoke would be coming from his ears or his nose. Y/N could read him very well but to be honest, he did little to hide his emotions from her anymore. His girl was just good at knowing him, and he appreciated every moment of it. He couldnt lie and say that her insistence of being his didn’t please him- it absolutely did.

Harry had quite a few morally gray qualities and one was his possessiveness. Words like that, telling him that she was all his, it made him hard. Settled him in a primal, animalistic way and he wasn’t going to stop it. Y/N had been clued into it, knowing the exact right thing to sway his mood a different way. Knowing that the woman curled up to him thought of herself as his, that she was fully belonging to him and would be proud to be his as soon as they could be in the limelight. Harry would be equally as happy with people knowing he belonged to her, and he had no shame in labeling himself as so- but Y/N was playing into his weaknesses.

“You are, aren’t you? And I’m yours.” His voice dropped an octave, moving his hand down a little bit to cup the side of her neck. “No matter what she tries to play to the public, no matter the image shes trying to sell, I belong to you, sweetheart. Heart and soul. It’s all yours.” No truer words had been spoken. Harry was an honest man, most of the time, but this wasn’t something he would lie about. He wouldn’t declare his heart as hers if it wasn’t. “My messy little girl.” He swiped away a bit of ice cream from the corner of her lip with his free hand, bringing it to his mouth to suck it away, keeping her eyes on his. Her ice cream was melting in the tub in her hand, and Harry had a better idea on what too with it now.

“Let’s not talk about her anymore, my angel.” He suggested, gently moving her closer to him. “Why don’t you let me have my sweets now, yeah? Taste them off of you?”

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adascore · 8 months ago

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Out Of The Blue | J. Fleming

pairings: jessie fleming x chelsea!reader

warnings: angst. swearing. crying. jessie’s transfer.

author’s note: inspired by @pixiesfz (fic: moving on) and @jflemings (fic: inevitable), I definitely recommend checking out their versions of the transfer!

masterlist

•••••••

January, 2024

''Yeah, that does sound great. I'll, uh, think about it and call you tomorrow… Okay, thanks… Bye bye.'' Jessie hung up the phone, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She sighed as she glanced back into the living room, her girlfriend sitting on their couch, blissfully unaware of anything.

Y/N wasn't entirely oblivious to Jessie's agent researching new clubs. It had been an ongoing discussion for a while now, fueled by Jessie's frustration with her dwindling game time at Chelsea.

Jessie quietly sat back down on the couch, not wanting to disturb her partner's tv-show.

''Everything okay?'' The Canadian turned her head, finding Y/N's eyes on her.

She nodded, biting her lips. ''Yeah, good… just my agent.'' She replied, trying to mask the turmoil in her voice.

''Any news?'' Y/N asked.

Bless her heart, Jessie thought. Despite not being the biggest fan of no longer getting to be teammates, Y/N had been very supportive of her girlfriend's search, believing her talent was indeed being wasted at Chelsea.

''Uh, nothing new,'' the midfielder lied, ''she's still in talks with a few clubs.''

''Oh, okay.'' The forward smiled, redirecting her focus back to the series she was watching.

Jessie didn't want to lie, she really didn't. However, telling the love of your life that you received a great offer from an American club and that you're really considering it, isn't an easy thing to do. The Canadian tried telling herself she should only tell Y/N when it's official, but Jessie knew from the moment her agent informed her of the option, that this was the right direction for her to go.

Her game time would improve compared to Chelsea's, and Janine and Christine would become her club teammates- she'd be stupid not to accept. But Portland was far from London, and Portland was far away from Y/N, her true home.

She promised herself she would tell her when the time was right, when the offer from the Thorns was official and her future was certain.

''I think she might stay until the end of the season, and then see what her options are.'' Y/N responded to Erin, after the Scot asked about Jessie's future.

Erin nodded. ''Nice, we can give her a proper sendoff then.''

''I'd say a party, but I don't think she would want to be the center of attention.'' Millie chimed in, thinking about how they could celebrate the younger woman's time at Chelsea.

''She'd look more like a tomato than she already does.'' Erin laughed, imagining her fellow midfielder's reaction.

''But it's good that we'll have at least this last season with her. The last match is gonna be emotional, Emma leaving, Jessie leaving…'' Millie said once the laughter had died down.

Y/N nodded her head. ''Yeah, but I just want to see her happy, you know? She loves the team, but, you know, with the game time and everything.''

Both women nodded, understanding Jessie's reasons for wanting to play somewhere else.

''Do you know where she's maybe going?'' Millie asked, curiously.

The younger woman shrugged her shoulders. ''She has plenty of options,'' Y/N grinned proudly, ''I think she's staying in Europe, though- Champions League and all.''

''She's gonna become a rival.'' Erin teased, rubbing her hands together in feigned mischief.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the thought, but the underlying sadness of Jessie's departure lingered in the back of her mind.

''I also see her staying close by, at least near you.'' Millie lightly nudged her teammate's shoulder, sending a wink.

Y/N grinned back, but there was a hint of dejection in her eyes as she glanced at her friends "She's gotta do what's best for her," she said softly, her gaze drifting to the floor, "that's the most important thing.” She murmured.

As Y/N's thoughts lingered on Jessie's impending departure, she was abruptly pulled back to the present by the sound of someone's voice.

''Hey, you're ready to go?'' Jessie asked, her arrival at their table breaking the somber silence that had settled over them.

Amazing timing, Fleming, Y/N thought as her girlfriend approached their table.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jessie, her dejected mood momentarily forgotten as she met her girlfriend's gaze. "Yeah." She replied, her eyes lighting up and a smile gracing her lips.

Her friends exchanged knowing glances, their amusement evident as they observed the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor in the presence of her girlfriend.

Y/N got up from her chair. ''See you tomorrow, beautiful ladies.'' She bid her friends goodbye.

''Tomorrow, love birds.'' ''See ya!''

Jessie silently grabbed her partner's bag from the floor, and the pair walked together to the parking lot.

''They're so adorable it makes me sick.'' Erin muttered.

Millie laughed at her teammate. ''I think you might be allergic.''

As they drove out of the Chelsea training complex, a heavy silence enveloped the couple, weighing down the air in the car. Silences weren't necessarily unusual for them, but there was something about this one that had Y/N feeling confused and worried at the same time.

Glancing sideways at Jessie, Y/N noticed the furrow in her brow, the tension etched into the lines of her face. It was clear that something was bothering her, something she was struggling to articulate.

"Hey, Jess," the striker began hesitantly, breaking the uneasy silence that hung between them, "is everything okay?”

Jessie's grip tightened on the steering wheel, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she wrestled with her thoughts. ''Yeah, just a bit tired.'' She responded, her voice strained.

Her answer did nothing to soothe her. There was a distance in the Canadian's eyes, a hesitancy in her voice that spoke volumes. "You can talk to me, you know." Y/N said, and she reached out to Jessie's hand.

For a moment, Jessie tensed up at the display of affection. Her breath was caught in her throat as she struggled with what to tell her partner. ''Can we talk about this when we're home? I don't want to have this conversation while I'm driving.'' She asked, momentarily making eye contact with her.

Y/N nodded, though the unease still gnawed at her. "Of course," she replied gently, withdrawing her hand but keeping her gaze fixed on Jessie, "we can talk about it when we get home."

The remainder of the drive passed in an uncomfortable conversation about their thoughts on the training that day.

As they finally pulled into their driveway, Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of the impending conversation sending a wave of anxiety crashing over her. She followed Jessie inside, the heavy silence hanging between them like a dense fog.

Once inside, Y/N took a seat on the couch. Her eyes fixed on the midfielder like a hawk as Jessie paced through the room.

Taking a a few deep breaths to ease herself, Jessie finally broke the silence that had enveloped them. "I... I received an offer." She confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N perked up at the revelation. ''An offer?'' She repeated. ''That's great, no?'' Her voice tinged with uncertainty.

But as she watched her girlfriend unconsciously shake her head, she knew there was more to the story than Jessie was letting on.

The Canadian hesitated, her gaze shifting to the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "From the Portland Thorns," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible, "they want me to play for them.”

Y/N's heart sank at the news, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. ''Portland?'' She muttered. ''In the U.S.?''

Jessie silently nodded. ''Yeah, the NWSL.'' She confirmed.

Her heart sank even further at the confirmation, the reality of the situation settling in like a heavy weight on her chest. ''Wow… that's, uh, that's amazing- with Janine and Christine, that's really nice, babe.'' She tried to muster a smile, but it felt hollow on her lips.

Despite her attempt to be supportive, the weight of Jessie's decision bore down on Y/N like a heavy burden. The thought of being separated by thousands of miles was something out of a nightmare.

But as she looked at Jessie, her heart ached at the thought of holding her back from pursuing her dreams. She knew that she had to be strong, to support her partner no matter what path she chose.

''Thank you.'' Jessie was unsure of how to proceed, it was clear that her girlfriend wasn't expecting a transfer to the other side of the world. "I... I know this isn't easy," she continued, her voice wavering slightly. "But I have to do what's best for my career.”

Y/N reached out, gently squeezing Jessie's hand. "I know," she replied softly, ''and this is gonna be really good for you.''

''So… you're not upset?''

She shook her head, a forced smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ''Of course not. I know you're going to do amazing there, and I'm happy that they are seeing your talent. It's a great club, Jess. And if it means you'll be happier... then I'm all for it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Jessie's eyes as she pulled Y/N into a tight embrace. "I love you." She whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I love you too," Y/N replied, returning the embrace, ''I think you forgot for a moment that I'm, like, your biggest fan.'' She chuckled, tears forming in her own eyes.

Jessie laughed now as well. "How could I forget?" She echoed, her eyes sparkling with affection as she looked at Y/N. "You're the best.”

As the evening wore on, the weight of Jessie's decision lingered in the air, casting a somber mood over the apartment. Despite the reassurances they had exchanged, the reality of the situation still hung heavy on their hearts.

A few days later, the time came for Jessie to face her teammates and share the news of her new club. The staff had gathered the team into the meeting room with the excuse they needed to go over some past matches.

''Before we get into some of the matches, there is someone here who has some news for us,'' Emma began, ''Jessie?'' The coach signaled for the Canadian to take her spot at the front of the room.

The midfielder quietly walked towards Emma. ''Hey, everyone,” she awkwardly greeted the room, "I, uh... I have something I need to tell you.” A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to Jessie.

Y/N's eyes became fixed on the floor, not feeling ready to hear this for a second time.

''I've received an offer from the Portland Thorns,” she said, still a bit on edge, ''and… I've decided to accept it. So this is actually my, uh, last day as a Blue.''

"I... I know this might come as a surprise," Jessie continued, her voice faltering. "you guys are an amazing group, and I'm so lucky to have shared the pitch with such incredible players. All of you will always have a special place in my heart, and, yeah, just thank you for everything.'' She finished her small speech, becoming emotional.

She received applause from the squad and staff in the room. Emma was the first to give her a hug. A flicker of irritation flashed through Y/N at the thought of their coach's role in Jessie's decision to leave, but she pushed it aside, knowing that now was not the time.

All the players got up from their seats to say their own ‘thank you's' or give their own hugs to Jessie. However, the young striker remained seated, finding herself unable to follow her teammates.

With a heavy heart, Y/N quietly rose from her seat, her footsteps barely audible as she made her way towards the door.

She felt a hand on her shoulder as she almost went for the door handle. ''You okay?''

Y/N was met with Sam as she turned around, the Australian's face expressing concern over her teammate's exit without having said anything to her girlfriend.

''Yeah, just need the bathroom.'' She replied, quickly.

Sam nodded and let her go, but she was not convinced. The No. 20 shared a look with her captain who had also watched the young woman's escape.

Millie swiftly ruffled the Canadian's hair, before walking over to Sam. ''What was that?''

''I don't know, said she needed the bathroom, but she went before the meeting.'' The experienced striker explained, a furrow in her eyebrows.

''I'll talk to her.'' Turning back to Sam, she offered a reassuring smile before making her way towards the door.

She caught up with Y/N in the hallway, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to startle slightly. "Hey," the Brit said delicately, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "Mind if we chat for a moment?”

Y/N hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to meet her older teammate's eyes. "Sure." she replied quietly.

She led the younger one to a more secluded area, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on their more personal moment. Millie's face was full of concern as she turned to her. ''Are you okay? What happened there? Didn't Jessie tell you already?''

''She did, she did… a few days ago.'' She answered, her voice still quiet and full of emotion.

''Then, what's wrong? Why'd you leave?''

Y/N pulled her attention from the ground to Millie's eyes. ''It's just… that, like, it seemed to have only hit me now that she's actually going, you know? She's gonna go to Portland, while I'm staying here in fucking London.''

Millie's expression softened with understanding as she listened to Y/N's words, her heart aching for her younger teammate. ''I get it,'' she put her arm around her, ''it's tough knowing that she'll be so far away, especially when you're used to having her here with you every day.''

The striker nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she struggled to contain her emotions. "Yeah," she murmured, ''I'm…'' she trailed off.

''You're what, sweetheart?''

''I'm scared.'' Her voice was small, if her teammate wasn't standing so close to her, she probably would have missed it.

''Of what?'' The captain frowned.

''The distance, I don't think I can handle it, Millie.''

Millie's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/N's voice, her own eyes brimming with tears as she wrapped her younger friend in a warm embrace. "I understand," she murmured, offering her a comforting squeeze, "it's okay to be scared. It's a big change. For the both of you.''

Y/N nodded, her tears flowing freely now as she struggled to articulate the depth of her fears. "I... I'm scared of losing her," she admitted softly, ''that she'll forget me while she's there.''

"You won't lose her," she reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity. "Jessie loves you, Y/N. And distance won't change that.”

Y/N sniffled, a small hiccup escaping her as she leaned into Millie's embrace, finding solace in her comforting words. "But what if... what if she meets someone else?" She whispered, her voice tinged with fear.

Millie's grip tightened, her heart breaking at the thought of her friend's pain. "Jessie loves you," she repeated firmly. "And nothing, and I really mean that, nothing will bloody change that.''

''Thanks, Mills.'' Y/N said, her head resting on her shoulder.

''You're welcome, darling. I'm always here for you. And Erin, and Sam, and Guro, Niamh, Z, all of us.'' She reassured her, wanting her to know that they'll stand by her while she goes through this difficult time.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at Millie's words. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "I... I really needed to hear that.”

''Anytime, bubs,'' the defender pecked the top of her head, ''I do think you need to tell Jessie this. It's important for her to know how you feel about all this.''

The younger one nodded, taking a moment to compose herself before pulling away from Millie. "You're right," she agreed, her voice a bit steadier now, ''I'll talk to her about it.''

Millie gave her a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with encouragement. ''Great, she'll understand. It's Jessie, remember?'' She chuckled, trying to get a grin out of her friend.

She was successful as Y/N managed to crack a smile. ''Yeah, it's Jessie,'' she straightened her posture as if ready for battle, ''thanks again, Mills. I really appreciate it.''

The defender nodded, the smile on her own face widening. ''You're very welcome, sweetheart.'' She gave Y/N a small pat on the back.

The next evening, they sat together in their dimly lit living room, trying to watch a movie. Y/N glanced over at Jessie, whose eyes were focused on the television.

"Jessie," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, ''can I, uh, talk to you about something?''

The Canadian's brows furrowed in concern as she turned towards her partner. ''Of course.''

Y/N took a deep breath. ''First, I am so happy for you that you're going somewhere where they are appreciating your talent, and that you'll be closer to your family and your siblings...'' she began, her words slow and measured. She paused, struggling to meet Jessie's gaze. ''I just don't think that I, uh, am gonna be able to handle the distance.''

Jessie's stomach twisted with unease as she absorbed her words. In the days since it had become official that she would be moving to Portland, they hadn't really discussed how their relationship would proceed. Each of them had spoken about it with their friends, but they both seemed hesitant to broach the topic with each other, perhaps afraid of the uncertainty it might bring.

''I want to, Jessie, I really want to try- I just want you to know how I feel, it's been bothering me.''

The midfielder found it hard to respond as she observed her girlfriend who looked like she was about to burst out in tears. Tears welled up in Jessie's eyes as she reached out to gently cup Y/N's face in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. "I understand," she whispered, her voice strained, "and I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Y/N's own eyes started to water. She leaned into Jessie's touch, her heart breaking at the thought of losing her. ''I love you, J Flem.''

''I love you.'' Jessie reciprocated as she took her partner into her arms, wanting her as close as possible.

''I don't know if I can handle being so far apart, not seeing you or speaking to you every day. International break is already a killer for me, and it's difficult to just go back-and-forth between Portland and London.'' The striker whispered into Jessie's neck, not able to say it any louder.

The Canadian nodded, completely understanding her perspective. ''I know,'' she whispered back, 'I never wanted to put you in this position."

For a moment, they simply held each other in silence, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air. But as the minutes ticked by, the reality of their situation became increasingly clear.

''I don't want to hold you back.'' Y/N said, her voice muffled against the fabric of Jessie's shirt.

''You're not holding me back at all.'' Jessie immediately retorted, ruffling her hair.

Y/N weakly chuckled. ''It feels like I am.''

''Please don't think that, babe.''

They were both aware of what was coming, they were simply wasting time as if that would somehow work and they wouldn't have to leave each other.

''I remember when I first joined Chelsea, and I was watching some of you guys' matches, and thinking you were so intimidating,'' Jessie broke the silence.

''but then you were actually one of the first people to say hi to me, and you just looked so different than on the pitch. You were smiling, and trying your best to make me feel welcome.'' She laughed, an affectionate smile playing on her lips.

Y/N grinned as well, while wiping some loose tears away. ''I just remember thinking you looking super awkward.'' She dryly responded.

Jessie gave her a light push. ''Hey!''

''I also thought you were very cute… with your flushed cheeks.'' She quickly added.

The midfielder ironically blushed at the admission.

It became quiet between the two of them again, reminiscing their early days as teammates at Chelsea.

''We'll find our way back to one another, I'm sure of it.'' Jessie nodded.

Y/n felt a lump in her throat at Jessie's words. ''We're still so young, you never know what can happen.''

''And I know what's going to happen. You and I, together- whenever, wherever that may be.'' She reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity.

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening with the weight of their impending separation. "I love you, Jessie." She told her, the pair locking eyes.

"I love you too," Jessie replied, her voice catching in her throat, "more than anything."

jessie fleming requests are always welcome!

#jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso fic #chelsea women x reader

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maddiedott · 27 days ago

Note

Logan Howlett x GN!Reader where the reader is a somewhat introverted person that has a passion for drawing, and when Logan asks to see one of their drawings, the reader shows them a drawing of a Wolverine (the animal :3)??

This is so precious, wolverines are so cool, I did a little bit of research for this story so I learned a lot lol. Thank you so much for my very first request! I tweaked it just a tad, but I hope I did this story justice.

Also did you know they eat artic foxes? :(

Sketches

Warnings: Omnivert!Gn! Reader, fluff, Logan teasing, established relationship, not proofread, I did a lot of research on wolverines

You weren’t entirely sure what sparked this inspiration this time. Perhaps it was the interest on what a wolverine actually was, or perhaps it was the man who had named himself after one. Either way, it was the only thing that filled up the pages of your sketchbook, breaking it in with graphite and charcoal sketches of the fluffy and ferocious mammals. It’s where you find yourself now.

The day was nice, just a small breeze but not one enough to disrupt the page of the sketchbook in your hands. The students were either inside or out but a few yards away so their screaming and laughing weren’t bothersome. Storm, Logan, and Scott were out on a mission, they had left a few days ago and would be assumed to return early tomorrow or the next day. So, with Logan’s absence, it gave you a lot more time to draw. You missed him, of course, but you were thankful for the solace in the sound of the pencil against paper.

Settled under a shady tree, blanket settled underneath your thighs and protecting yourself from the itchy grass that hurts your skin if you sit on it for too long, the blanket acts as a barrier from that. Your sketchbook opened, the leather bound cover resting against your thighs as your feet were planted comfortably against the blanket which had your knees bent in order to comfortably assume the drawing position you had a habit of falling into. It caused you to slouch and your back to ache for the rest of the day, but you couldn’t draw any other way.

At first when you started drawing these creatures, you needed a reference and opted for the textbook you had read on them, but now you have the memorized and only needed to refer to the book for movement reference.

“What are you drawin’, Sweetheart?” Logan’s voice sounded, heavy thuds of his boots headed your way.

Your head whipped upwards at the sound, unexpected but pleased nonetheless. Despite the lack of social interaction at certain points throughout the day, Logan’s was always welcomed. Often there were times where you both would simply just exist in your own bubbles when you were feeling a little more introverted. He could read you better than you would imagine that you could read yourself,

“Nothing special.” You replied, sketchbook shutting and sitting up straighter and changing sitting position where your knees were pointed outwards and your feet laid under them. “You’re back early.”

It’s then that you notice his attire. He wasn’t in his black x-men uniform that they wore out on missions. He was adorned in his casual clothes, a beater under a maroon cotton button up, worn jeans and that silly large buckled belt, and his worse-for-wear biker boots. He had been back for a while.

“Cyke wanted a shower.” He explained as he settled down beside you, half his body on the blanket and half on the spiked grass.

You slowly nod in response, not wanting to imagine what the mission entailed for Scott to rush home and shower. You set your sketchbook off to the side of you, small smile on your lips at his presence.

“So, what are you always drawin’ in that book of yours?” He asks, looking at you curiously.

What were you supposed to say? Certainly not the truth. How were you to explain that you had become hyper fixated on drawing the animal that he had named himself after? It was silly when you thought about it and you were sure he would laugh, maybe not at you but definitely at the subject of your drawings.

“Like I said, nothing special.” You repeat, shrugging in indifference but your fingers slightly push at the spine of the book to tuck it out of sight.

It didn’t work. He had much faster reflexes than you, so when he reached behind you with what seemed like an inhumane speed, you had little time to retaliate or guard your precious secret. With his body turned slightly and hands already flipping through the pages, you had little else to do than sit in shock beside him and feeling all the warmth from your face and body.

“What the hell are these? Badgers?” He queries, confusion evident on his face as his brows bunched together.

“No… they’re uh, wolverines.” You answer, eyes finding a group of students running around and kicking a soccer ball around as if it was the most interesting game ever.

“Wolverines? It’s an animal?” He questions incredulously. Surely he didn’t think he had just made that name up. He didn’t remember why that was engraved in his dog tags but… really?

“I mean, yeah? They’re really cool, they have a reputation for their ferocious nature and strength. They’re also pretty solitary animals too. They’re actually really similar to you.” You ramble, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Yeah?” He flips through the sketches, eyes lingering on each drawing.

“Mhm! They also eat animals that are often much bigger than they are…”

You had quickly delved into a long research essay of facts that you had learned about wolverines, and Logan was more than content to just sit beside you and listen to your rambling knowledge.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan x reader #logan howlett #logan wolverine #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine x reader #logan james howlett #the wolverine #x men fanfiction

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just-aake · 1 year ago

Text

Boundless Devotion - Part II

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Warnings: slight angst, violence, abuse

Words: 2582

The carriage leaves the castle gates, carrying the two noblewomen inside.

“I don’t understand why I can’t be outside with the other knights,” Kate pouts as she looks out the window at the guards riding their horses beside the carriage.

Her dog mirrors her position, resting its head sadly against the opening of the window.

Flipping to the next page of the book Queen Melina gave you earlier today after your meeting with her, you respond without looking up at her.

“Because, Kate, even though you chose to become a knight, at the moment, you are still the daughter of a noble family."

You finally glance up at her with a pointed look as you continue your explanation.

"That means you still need to have some form of protection until then.”

Kate groans in disappointment as she slumps back on the seat across from you, crossing her arms as she sulks.

After numerous pleas and persistent requests to her mother about her desire to join the Royal Guard, she finally gained permission to begin her training, though under a lot of conditions and restrictions.

Quickly bored with her sulking, Kate glances at the book in your lap curiously before asking.

“Chronicles of the Red Room? Why are you reading about that?”

With a nonchalant shrug, you reply casually, “I just wanted to learn more about my family’s involvement in the war.”

The book in question recounts personal stories from the previous war between the Romanov Kingdom and the Stark Kingdom.

More precisely, it focuses on a place known as the Red Room, which was apparently under the control of your family's house during the war.

According to your findings so far, this place was mainly used for interrogating captured enemies, and it appears that during the war, the Dreykov House gained considerable recognition for its effectiveness in infiltrating enemy ranks and securing strategic advantages for the kingdom through the Red Room.

The queen graciously provided you with some books on the subject when you inquired about it.

Kate hums in casual interest before commenting curiously.

“Wasn’t your old governess also a general during the war? What was her name again…?”

Kate snaps her fingers when she remembers.

“Madam B!”

Your hand pauses mid-flip at the name, but Kate doesn’t notice your sudden discomfort as she continues.

"She's always been by your side since you were young, but I haven't seen her around for a while now. Where did she disappear to anyway?"

You compose yourself quickly when Kate looks at you, giving her a faint smile before replying, “I believe she moved to the countryside.”

Kate nods in acknowledgment, accepting your words.

As you're about to return your focus to the book, Kate's next words cause you to tense once again.

“It's odd that she decided to leave you now. You'd think she'd want to stay close, considering what happened."

Kate looks at you cautiously, knowing how sensitive the subject of the incident is for you.

You sigh internally at her words.

Despite her cheerful and carefree demeanor, you sometimes forget how observant Kate can be about certain matters.

“Madam B has been a part of my family's employment for many years. It was just simply time for her to get what she deserved,” you explain vaguely.

Noticing Kate nervously biting her lips—a telltale sign of her uncertainty—you anticipate there's something else she wants to say.

Eventually, she gives in with a sad expression.

“That wasn’t the only thing that changed.”

Letting out a deep sigh, you're already aware of what she's referring to.

“I already told you, Kate,” you reassure her gently. “Just because we don’t spend all of our time together anymore doesn’t mean Natasha and I are not still friends.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you return your attention to your book, commenting, "We just…each have our own responsibilities now.”

Kate sighs sadly, slumping back into her seat, “I know, but it just doesn't feel the same. We miss having you with us like before, especially Natasha.”

Choosing not to reply, you pretend to concentrate on your book, ignoring the tightness in your chest at her words.

The truth is — you miss Natasha too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The carriage stops at the entrance of your family’s manor.

Your gatekeeper, Pietro Maximoff, waves at you as you enter. When he opens the carriage door for you, you see your lady-in-waiting, Wanda Maximoff, rushing down the front steps.

“Welcome back, Lady Y/n.”

The twins stand side by side when they greet you.

You give them a warm smile and nod at them graciously.

As orphans from the remnants of the war, Wanda and Pietro were brought into your family’s house by some of the staff members.

Due to their young age when they joined your household, the three of you practically grew up together.

As a result, you genuinely see them more like siblings than anything else, and they reciprocate the same sentiment.

However, in the presence of those outside the manor, they still try to maintain a respectful attitude toward you.

“Thank you,” you say before gesturing to the back of the carriage. “Pietro, can you help bring in the box?”

He nods at your request, moving to reach for the item.

When you’re about to go up the stairs, Wanda places a gentle hand on your arm, stopping your movement.

Her face holds a tense smile as she speaks.

“Your father has come home early from his meeting,” she states in a casual tone. Though, her eyes dart behind you with a meaningful glance.

The news causes you to freeze, your eyes slightly widening. Swiftly, you turn around and intercept Kate's path, stopping her in her tracks.

She tilts her head at you curiously in confusion.

You offer her a reassuring smile, dispelling all the tense emotions that had crossed your face just moments ago.

“I think I’m just going to rest early today, Kate. It's probably best if you head home," you suggest.

Kate begins to examine you carefully, her expression turning worried.

“Are you okay? Do you feel sick?”

You shake your head, turning her around and lightly directing her back to the carriage before responding.

“I’m fine, just a little tired from reading during the ride.”

Kate casts a skeptical glance your way as she ushers Lucky back into the carriage.

“Okay…,” she says, her voice trailing off. She bites her lip again with uncertainty, remembering something. Then with a deep breath, she speaks again.

“Yelena and I plan to have a picnic at the usual spot by the lake tomorrow,” Kate hesitates briefly before continuing. “Natasha will be there too. I could come in the morning, and we can go together if you’d like?” she proposes with a hopeful tone.

You give her an apologetic look and shake your head, denying her offer.

“I can't, Kate. I have a meeting with Lady Maria tomorrow.”

Kate acknowledges your response with a disappointed nod, retreating back into the carriage with a sad goodbye.

You wave as the carriage disappears through the gates. Once you're certain she's out of sight, you hurry up the front stairs and make your way into your family’s manor.

Wanda and Pietro fall in step beside you. Together, the three of you move swiftly along the hallways, taking a less direct route to your room within the manor.

“Where is he now?” you ask, turning slightly to Wanda.

“He was in his study before you arrived,” she replies.

You glance at the box in Pietro’s hand, which contains other books that the queen gave you today. These books concern subjects that you don't want your father to know you are researching.

“Can you keep that in your quarters for now?”

“Of course,” Pietro replies, nodding without hesitation.

You turn the corner toward the staircase that leads to your floor.

“What do you think you are doing?”

The booming voice from above causes you to freeze, and you look up to see your father, Lord Dreykov, standing at the top of the staircase. His gaze is fixed on the three of you, examining you critically before shifting his eyes to the person behind you.

He points at Pietro, ordering, “You, take that box to my study.”

Pietro doesn’t move at the command. Instead, he turns his attention to look at you for direction.

Dreykov watches the interaction with narrow eyes, and a flicker of irritation crosses his face. He descends the steps slowly, clasping his hands behind his back.

You hold your breath nervously when he stops in front of you, your eyes watching him cautiously.

The sound of a sharp, echoing slap rings out in the room, and your head snaps to the side from the impact of the hit.

As you instinctively bring your hand to your cheek in shock, you cry out in pain when he harshly grabs your wrist and pushes you forcefully to your knees.

You hear some movement from behind you. Glancing back, Wanda and Pietro both have shocked and concerned looks as they step towards you.

“Don’t move,” Dreykov commands threateningly.

Your father twists your wrist in a painful direction, causing you to cry out in pain again.

In response, Wanda and Pietro come to an abrupt stop, freezing in their tracks.

Dreykov chuckles darkly at them.

“So, the two of you can follow orders after all.”

He observes your two obviously loyal attendants, seeing a mix of restrained anger and concern etched across their faces. Annoyance tinges his expression as he clicks his tongue in irritation.

“It seems that in my absence from the manor, some of the staff have forgotten who’s the one in control here.”

He turns to Pietro threateningly, his hand still holding your wrist in a deathly grip.

“Am I going to have to repeat myself?”

Pietro clenches his teeth in anger, his gaze shifting between you and your father’s vice-like grip on your wrist. With a reluctant bow, he hurries away toward the study with the box in tow.

When Pietro disappears around the corner, your father finally lets go of your wrist.

You swiftly pull your hand back, cradling it protectively against your chest.

Immediately, you sense Wanda’s presence behind you. Her hands grasp your arms, pulling you up and drawing you closer to her, creating a safe distance from your father.

Dreykov sneers at you, turning to leave.

“Don’t ever disrespect me like that again, daughter,” he warns, his tone threatening.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“The nerve of that man!” Wanda fumes as she holds your injured wrist in her lap.

You could see the purplish discoloration on your skin, indicating that a bruise was already forming.

“He’s absent for most of your life. Now, suddenly, he decides to stay and terrorize you and everyone else in the manor!”

Though her words are angry, Wanda is gentle as she applies the medical salves on your wrist.

She's also not wrong about your father. Throughout your childhood, he was rarely at home, always away on trips and meetings to other kingdoms.

Honestly, any memories of moments when he was actually at the manor are hazy to you.

For some reason, he has chosen to stay in the kingdom for a full year now. His return happened shortly after the incident that unfolded on Natasha's birthday.

However, it's hard to believe that his presence is solely driven by concern for you.

Wanda continues, “Not to mention those creepy guards of his that hide in the shadows.”

You wince when she begins to wrap the bandages around a tender area.

“Which is why you should lower your voice, Wanda,” you warn her.

A familiar knocking pattern sounds at the door before Wanda can respond.

Knowing who it is, she calls out, “Come in!”

Pietro slips inside quickly, his gaze immediately focused on your wrist in concern.

“How is she?”

You respond before Wanda can continue her rant.

“I’m fine. Both of you calm down.”

Wanda huffs at you, crossing her arms, before noticing Pietro’s slightly disheveled hair and asking, “What took you so long anyway?”

Pietro's expression shifts into his usual mischievous grin as he pulls out the bundle of books from behind his back.

You recognize them as the ones the queen had given to you from the box.

“I ran to the library and switched these out with some of your geography books,” he explains proudly.

“Pietro!” you chastise before reprimanding him with a sigh. “Thank you, but please don’t do something that risky again. Who knows what my father would do if he caught you.”

Noticing Wanda and Pietro communicating silently to each other with their eyes, you ask them knowingly.

“What is it?”

Wanda's gaze turns sad and uncertain as she speaks, “We can’t really help you much given our position, but maybe if you tell Princess Natasha…”

Wanda gives you a knowing look before confidently stating, "She wouldn’t let this happen to you."

Sighing tiredly at the repeated reminder of the princess’ absence from your life, you adjust your sleeve to conceal the bandages as you explain.

“Her coronation is in a couple of months. I’m not going to burden Natasha with problems of a single noble family when she’s going to have to worry about an entire kingdom soon.”

The twins give you sympathetic looks, already aware of the real reasons for your reluctance to involve the princess.

With a sigh, you remind yourself of the decision that you made after that incident last year.

It was the best option.

The further you stay away from Natasha, the safer she will be.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The following afternoon, accompanied by Wanda, you go to meet Lady Maria Hill at her manor.

The purpose of the meeting was to see the compatibility between the two of you.

In other words, it was sort of like a first date.

The Hill family is renowned for their significant contributions to the kingdom's military. A majority of their family members hold distinctions as decorated soldiers or knights in the kingdom.

In fact, her cousin is the Captain of the Royal Guard at the castle.

Even now, Maria wears her commander uniform while she sits across from you. Her posture remains perfect and attentive as she places her cup down on the table before addressing you.

“To be honest, Lady Y/n, I was surprised that you still wanted to meet with me today, given the recent news.”

Confused, you glance at Wanda in question, wondering if she knew what Maria was referring to. She shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders in response.

With a polite smile, you return your attention to Maria.

“I’m afraid we haven’t heard any news,” you tell her.

“Well, it’s more like a rumor, just something Steve heard amongst the castle workers,” Maria comments casually before leaning forward slightly as if whispering a secret.

“Apparently, Princess Natasha disclosed last night that she’s in a secret relationship.”

You ignore the new uncomfortable feeling in your chest at the fact that there was something concerning Natasha that you weren’t aware of.

You manage to conceal the surprise and discomfort on your face as your hands cradle the cup in front of you, its warmth offering you little comfort.

“Oh? And did she mention who it is?” you ask, curious to learn more.

“That’s what makes this meeting so strange,” Maria pauses before nodding at you.

“She said that she was in a relationship with you, Lady Y/n.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

a/n: Thank you for reading! Hopefully the tags work, just let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series.

Taglist: @lightwhoranoutoflight, @taliiiaasteria

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

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httpwintersoldier · 1 year ago

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『 do it for me, doll. || bucky barnes x reader 』

pairing: pornstar!Bucky x f!reader words: medium summary: when life gets hard after the Avenger's disbandment Bucky has to find a new occupation, and you find it too.

『 part 2 』『 part 3 』

With the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D basically gone, the income of the remaining members was up to them entirely, and sadly, given Bucky's reputation and very recognizable appearance, many employers were reluctant or even scared to hire the man.

He had found some jobs, however he'd quickly get fired after complaints or after customers stopped showing up out of fear.

It was a tough life for Bucky, learning to live in this completely new world, while also being painted as a monster despite all of the heroic acts he had done over the years... It made living life almomst impossiblle.

However, he didn't understand. Peter had taught him how to use social media years prior, since he was tired of having people ask for his "@" and then laugh in his face when he didn't know what it was, and according to the people on said social medias, he was "a total DILF", "a 10/10" and "adorable". Bucky did have to ask for clarification on some terms, but after a while he got the gist of it, and appreciated the compliments. But why was it that he was so loved online yet so hated in real life?

The struggle in job searching ceased when someone bravely suggested that he should do porn. At first he was shocked, thinking it was rude for "BuckyInMe_69" to even suggest such a disrespectful thing, but then he began considering it.

Money and compliments in exchange for undressing? What was the worst that could happen? Harassment and constant disrespect? Bucky already got plenty of that on a daily basis without getting his cock out.

After considering it for several days, and trying to find any other job that would take him, the soldier said fuck it, and began researching about his new job. Where to go, where to start, what to do...

Bucky soon found out that he was an absolute natural. It was awkward at first, as he himself was quite an awkward person at times, but his naturally flirtatious personality and eagerness to be adored worked in his favour.

The only downside was the conversation he had with his co-worker-turned-friend Sam when the news reached his side.

"Bucky why are people sending me pictures of penises saying it's yours? Tell me this isn't your dick on my screen."

The soldier just laughed and told him it was payback for all of the Red Wing taunting.

He loved the money, but most of all he loved the compliments and appreciation. It was a nice contrast from all of the insults and judgement he got, and he felt like he could open up more and be himself on camera.

On the other end, you stared at a "Sign-Up!" screen on your computer, wondering if you were desperate for sexual gratification to the point of joining porn live streams. And the answer, as you soon found out, was yes. Yes you were.

After making the account your teeth played with your bottom lip as you searched through the plethora of options, when a certain someone caught your atention.

Was that... a metal arm? Were they cosplaying as Bucky Barnes? That would've been messed up... But as you brought the screen closer and squinted your eyes to look at the man on the thumbnail you realized it was actually THE Bucky Barnes. On a porn site. Livestreaming.

You clicked on his livestream (just out of curiousity, of course) and were instantly met with a view you could've only dreamed of.

Bucky was on a chair leaning back, his torso fully on display, tanned and shining, and his thighs just barely showing, covered with a pair of tight shorts that left little to the imagination.

He smiled and greeted everyone with the cutest voice, and for a second you forgot he was once a prominent assassin.

As luck would have it, he had just started streaming and there were very few people there, so, without thinking, you went ahead and booked a private session, before someone else "stole" him away and robbed you of the view.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck, dammit. It was only when Bucky raised his eyebrows and spoke that you realized what you had done.

"Wow, a session so soon, I didn't expect it! To the lovely fan that bought the session, I'll meet you in my private room, to the rest of you, I'll see you soon!"

With a click from his side, the screen turned into the thumbnail picture, with a white text on top that said "Private Session Time! I'll be back soon".

You stared at it for a while before realizing that he was waiting for you and you should probably join the session.

You took a deep breath (or several deep breaths) before joining your 20-minute session. You pressed the big golden button and the screen that once was locked, turned into an image of Bucky. The camera angle was lower, so now you could fully see his body from the head to the knees, and the shorts he wore were long gone, now replaced by a pair of tight grey boxers that perfectly showed the outline of his hard-on.

"Hey doll, how are ya?" He greeted, when he noticed the company had finally joined.

"Good, how are you?" You typed nervously.

You watched as his eyes moved to read the chat. Your thumb was in your mouth and you nervously bit your fingernail, anticipating the response.

"I'm doin' good princess. We got a shy one in our hands, do we? Are you gonna let me see you?" He questioned, his hand finding his crotch area.

You looked around, wondering if you should do it, and you just figured fuck it.

You placed the pc in front of you, a little farther away, so the camara would catch everything below your neck. You then knelt in front of the pc and turned it on.

You were shaking as you did so, but the way Bucky spoke, in such a gentle, soft yet sensual manner instantly put you at ease.

"You look gorgeous, doll."

Bucky stared at your hardened nipples, that were protruding in the very short nightgown you wore.

"Thank you."

The Soldier smirked, he could sense your nervousness from the quietness in your voice.

"Lean back for me doll, and spread your legs, I wanna see how wet you are."

You obeyed him, slowly stripping from your panties, and leaned against the headboard. You spread your legs, giving him full sight of your pussy.

When you looked at the screen he had rid himself of his underwear too, holding his hard shaft with his mechanical arm. The view was so hot and erotic you swore you could cum just at the view.

"You're so fuckin' pretty doll, can you touch yourself for me?"

Your hand sneaked down your body until your fingers found your clit and began slwoly rubbing circles.

"That's a good girl, I wanna hear how pretty you sound."

His pretty blue eyes were half shut, filled with lust as he began pumping his cock.

"You look... really good." You said, shyly.

That got a smile out of him and he brushed his hair back with his free hand.

"Yeah baby? You like to see me jerk off to you?"

"Yes... Yes, I love it." You admitted, your hand speeding up subconsciously.

"Why don't you finger yourself for me doll?"

You slowly inserted two fingers in, stealing a loud moan out of you.

Bucky's hand sped up at the sight and at the sound.

"Shit if you sound this good now, I can only imagine how you'd sound if I was inside you, fucking you until that pretty head of yours could only think of my cock."

Your head hit the backboard the second you heard those words, and your hand sped up.

"I wanna hear you too, please Bucky." You begged, and his cock twitched at the way you called his name

Grunts and whimpers instantly left his mouth, and his chest began heaving.

"You're doing so good... so good doll."

You added some speed to your hand and added another one, that circled your clit.

Bucky couldn't cum, since he still had a livestream to get back to after your session, but the sounds your fingers made fucking your own pussy made it hard for him not to say fuck it and cum for you.

"That's it princess, you sound so good right now, I wish I could fuck you until you couldn't move your legs anymore."

"Oh my- fuck! Bucky I'm gonna cum."

He smirked, as he could now slightly see your face, bottom lip trapped between your teeth and eyebrows furrowed with pleasure.

"That's it princess, cum for me. I wanna see you cum."

His words were like a command, and so you came in front of him, with a cry for his name, your legs shaking from the thrill of the experience.

The timer on Bucky's side signaling the session was over had rang about five minutes prior to your climax, but he was obsessed with you, and wanted to make you cum more than he wanted to go back to the live.

He hung out for a second, still stroking his cock, allowing you to catch your breath, before speaking up again.

"Alright doll, our time's up and I gotta get back, but I hope to see you here again." Bucky said, a playful smile on his lips, and an enchanting look in his eyes.

You covered yourself, suddenly feeling very exposed, causing the man to laugh inwardly.

"You might. You might..."

"I'm hoping I do princess."

Those were the last words you heard before he disconnected and went back to the live. You sat there, cathcing your breath still, and thinking about the past twety-something minutes.

How was it that the best sexual encounter you'd ever had was with a man that wasn't even in the room with you!?

A/N: if this pops off and people are interested I can make a part two!

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lovelynicho · 3 months ago

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"I'm giving you this summer now"

&team reaction - summer love

Pairing: &team x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, sligh angst

Warnings: drinking in K's; not proofread (I'm still lazy)

Note: yes, I have requests I still need to write, but as the summer is coming to an end, I wanted to write something like this; english is not my first language if there's any mistakes please let me know!

Masterlist

After your first meeting you never tought you would meet again. You first met at a party, both of you were a little tipsy and danced until you could barely stand anymore. Although, you believed you'd never see him again two days later you met him at a store and while you had no intentions of talking to him it seemed like he tought differently and asked for your number. You found it weird but at the same time curiousity grew inside of you and you couldn't stop it. So you ended up on a date with him that night and it was surprisingly good. At first sight you tought that he's just a guy who just wants to hookup, but he was actually interested in you, he was funny and incredibly charming. So after that date you found yourself on an another one with K, and it was followed by the next one and so on. He made that summer the best you've had so far, and both of you decided to make the fall at least as great.

Fuma

You have never been in a relationship before. And it started to get scary because it's been so long. All of your friends who are the same age had already gone out with at least one person but not you. This led to you thinking that there might be something wrong with you. You were often alone, walking in the city, admiring the settling sun. That's exactly what you were doing the day you met him. Fuma. The most perfect man ever. It was almost unbelievable that nobody wanted you before and suddenly he showed up. Tall, strong, handsome, charming voice asking for your number. It was pretty late, the sun going down, but the summer breeze is still hot. Despite that, you shivered when he said he'll call you. And he did. And he made this summer the best of all by making you feel loved in a way you never experienced before.

Nicholas

You loved being a tour guide. You were always good at learning languages and to use that to show others the beautiful parts of your hometown was a dream of yours that you finally achieved. It was the beginning of summer but you already took numerous groups on a great tour. But this group was different. Not even the group itself, but a certain someone. A beautiful man with strawberry coloured hair, almost cold eyes but with the warmest smile you've ever seen. You tried not to stare at him too much, but he was so captivating that your eyes longed for the sight of him. As the tour ended you were actually glad you don't have to see him again, because even if he would found you attractive (which you tought was impossible) starting to date with a foreigner would be complicated. But as you were packing your stuff, ready to leave, a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. "Hi! Loved the tour. I'm Nicholas, here's my number. I'm going to be here all summer if you'd like to go out sometime" You don't even know why you accepted it. If you start to have strong feelings for him, saying goodbye at the end of the summer will be the hardest thing for you. But he was too charming to reject.

You always loved kids. Probably that's why you volunteered to help at a summer camp. The only thing you never tought would happen there is finding the most beautiful man you've ever seen. When you first went to the camp on Monday to prepare some games for the kids you found help in a tall, brown haired individual called Euijoo. He was incredibly kind to you, making small conversations everytime you had to work on something together. Small conversations turned into deep talks everyday after all the kids left and you finished cleaning. Just sitting on the stairs, eating some leftover food, talking about everything and nothing. By every passing day you found yourself liking him more and more. On Friday he asked you out for dinner, proving that he felt the same.

Yuma

What is better than a vacation with your friends spent in a different country? Obviously nothing! That's what you and your friends tought when you booked a hotel in Japan for the whole summer. You just wanted to take a long, deserved break before college starts again. And next to the beautiful hotel you were staying at was an amazing cafe where you could get your morning coffee. That's where you met him. Beautiful hair, beautiful skin, shining eyes. It took him a week until he gave you his number and asked you out. He introduced himself as Yuma, and he was living close to where you were staying. So every single minute when you weren't with your friends, you were with him. The only problem was when the time of your departure came closer and closer. By that time both of you fell for each other. You couldn't beleive that you had to end it here, leaving him just as the summer leaves too. But you want to try, you beleive in your feelings. So maybe it will work for the two of you. Maybe....

Why did it take you so long? You started working with him at the beginning of summer. You shifts almost always the same. Both of you being introverts, at first you barely even talked to each other, but as time passed by, work getting more and more boring, conversations started to spark between you two. He was quite. A cute smile on his face. Shy. But when you talked, you felt like he understands you like nobody else in this world. So why did it take you so long? Why didn't you go to grab an ice cream after the first time you had a good talk? Why didn't you asked him out right after you realised you had feelings for him? Why didn't you kiss him right away when his lips looked so inviting? Why did you have to wait for so long. Now there's barely two weeks left of summer, and by the end of it, he'll be gone. He's moving away for university. You love each other. You did this whole time. If only one of you would have been braver, you could have had the whole summer to make memories, to kiss, cuddle, live like two young people in love. So why did it take you so long....

Harua

That day seemed like a nice day for a walk alone. However, the hot weather left you in need of something cold. That's when you decided to go and buy some ice cream. You were about to make an order when you looked at the guy who was giving out the ice cream. He looked at you with the brightest smile you have ever seen, brown hair falling perfectly on his forehead, eyes scanning you from head to toe. The mutual attraction at first sight was obvious. After you asked for the flavours of ice cream you wanted you were just about to pay when he suddenly told you to wait a little. He quickly found a pen on a table close to him and wrote something on a napkin that he gave you after you payed the price of your cold sweet. "My name is Harua. That's my number, maybe you can call me, if you want to. My shift is over at eight."

Taki

When the two of you first met, you were on a vacation with your friends. You were walking on the beach when a guy came to all of you. He seemed nervous and a little embarrassed that he had to speak infront of all of your friends but he tought you looked amazing and if he didn't ask for your number he would be regretting it for the rest of his life. "Hi my name is Taki" he started and looked directly in your eyes "I think you look really good and... Would it be okay if you gave me your number?" You were shocked. You didn't expect someone to be so straightforward, but you found him interesting and cute, of course, so you did give him your number. And he called you that evening asking you out for the next day, and after that date you had to admit, that giving him your number was one if the best decisions you've ever made.

Maki

Although the two of you went to the same school for years, you were never really close. You barely even talked. Until you got a project together nearly the end of your last year. While working on it you realised how much interest you both share and you started to hang out. As friends. But both of you started to have stronger feelings for the other. And, being the brave man he is, at the beginning of summer he asked you out on a proper date. It didn't take long for you two to start dating. It seemed normal, like nothing could separate you two. Until you saw that both of you were accepted to your chosen university. It would be a good thing, if only they weren't in completely different countries. But still, you decided to make the most out of the summer: spending all your free time together, going on your dream dates, sharing sweet love confessions. You even started to think that things can still work. It's just a few years spent thousands of kilometres away from each other. Your relationship can survive that....right?

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