#fic: stolen thunder
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dwellordream · 4 months ago
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Aegon's Conquest of Westeros has just begun, but the storm has broken, the first battle is over, and Argella Durrandon is nursing a nasty hangover. Now, if only she could remember exactly how Orys Baratheon and his siblings stole her birthright... and what exactly she's going to do about it. But hey, it could always be worse. At least her unwanted husband doesn't have a dragon. Though not for lack of trying.
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scealaiscoite · 2 months ago
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⋆˚࿔ build-a-fic no. 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
➴ chose a scent, an item of clothing and a weather forecast (a number, letter, + creature), and write/request to your heart’s content my dears!
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𓂃 ࣪˖ a smell
꒰ 1 ꒱ rich, incensed perfume
꒰ 2 ꒱ burnt coffee
꒰ 3 ꒱ resinous pine needles
꒰ 4 ꒱ steadily-baking bread
꒰ 5 ꒱ inescapably strong disinfectant
꒰ 6 ꒱ expensive, pungent red wine
꒰ 7 ꒱ cheap cologne
꒰ 8 ꒱ salty air rolling off of crashing sea waves
꒰ 9 ꒱ mouth-watering home cooking
꒰ 10 ꒱ a too-strong vanilla candle
꒰ 11 ꒱ fresh-cut, perfectly ripe stone fruits
꒰ 12 ꒱ overpowering tiger balm
꒰ 13 ꒱ smoke unfurling from a wood fire
꒰ 14 ꒱ spiced incense
꒰ 15 ꒱ all-too familiar coconut shampoo
꒰ 16 ꒱ strong herbal lavender
꒰ 17 ꒱ newly turned earth
꒰ 18 ꒱ motor oil
꒰ 19 ꒱ just-washed bedsheets
꒰ 20 ꒱ petrichor after a rainshower
𓂃 ࣪˖ a piece of clothing
꒰ A ꒱ a wrinkled black tie
꒰ B ꒱ mismatched socks
꒰ C ꒱ faded blue jeans
꒰ D ꒱ a hotel bathroom
꒰ E ꒱ a stolen hoodie
꒰ F ꒱ a crisp white button-down
꒰ G ꒱ an expensive, lush fur coat
꒰ H ꒱ a pair of beaten-up combat boots
꒰ I ꒱ plaid pajama pants
꒰ J ꒱ loose-fitting boxer shorts
꒰ K ꒱ a yellow football jersey
꒰ L ꒱ a papery hospital gown
꒰ M ꒱ a blue, lacy thong
꒰ N ꒱ a brown belt with a gold buckle
꒰ O ꒱ cheap swimming garb
꒰ P ꒱ six-inch high heels
꒰ Q ꒱ a dark-red evening gown
꒰ R ꒱ a thick knitted sweater
꒰ S ꒱ a chef’s white coat
꒰ T ꒱ a flimsily-made tourist t-shirt
𓂃 ࣪˖ a weather advisory
꒰ 𓆉 ꒱ hammering, unrelenting rain
꒰ 𓅨 ꒱ warm, golden sunshine
꒰ 𓆣 ꒱ hair-raising rolls of thunder
꒰ 𓃰 ꒱ thick, looming fog
꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ a clear, chilly evening
꒰ 𓃱 ꒱ blazing heat
꒰ 𓃟 ꒱ a nighttime lightning storm
꒰ 𓆟 ꒱ a grey sky laden with rainclouds
꒰ 𓆈 ꒱ cold, drizzly mist
꒰ 𓅫 ꒱ an unexpected snowstorm
꒰ 𓅟 ꒱ bone-chilling sleet
꒰ 𓃵 ꒱ breathless humidity
꒰ 𓃓 ꒱ blustery winds
꒰ 𓆌 ꒱ rain-induced floods
꒰ 𓆏 ꒱ spitting showers of hailstones
꒰ 𓅭 ꒱ a freezing, sudden drop in temperatures
꒰ 𓆗 ꒱ a hurricane warning
꒰ 𓃢 ꒱ a tropical storm
꒰ 𓆧 ꒱ a warm, temperate breeze
꒰ 𓃔 ꒱ road-closing landslides
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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 months ago
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Midnight Rain
Summary: Waking up in the middle of the night to a storm raging outside, you find Javi outside on the porch, deciding to have him right then and there.
Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader
Rating: E
Wordcount: 1.9k
Warnings: oblivious idiots, mentions of divorced reader, reader in her mid thirties, smoking (both Javi and reader), alcohol, thunder storms, smut (unprotected sex, semi public sex), kissing, one ass slap, dirty talk, the word slut is used, some fluff at the end
follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
Full Masterlist // Javier Peña Masterlist
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You couldn’t sleep.
Well, you couldn’t fall back asleep. 
When you got back to the ranch earlier that evening you had eaten a sandwich, taken a shower and fallen asleep as soon as your head had fallen against your pillow. 
It had been a long day of taking care of all the horses and making sure the barn was secured for the night. 
The heavy rain outside must have woken you up, the storm that had been forecasted for earlier that day now raging outside. You sat yourself up on your tiny single bed, parting the curtains so you could look into the darkness outside. 
Sometimes, when you were sitting in the small room Chucho Peña had provided you after you had shown up on his ranch out of the blue, asking if he needed any help with the animals you asked yourself how your life had ended up like this.
In your mid thirties, divorced, without any money, working as a ranch hand (though you were more of a all around hand, mostly tasked with taking care of the house, food and garden).
Chucho had seen something in you and he had quickly become the father you never had. 
And then his son Javier had come home. 
It was instant, at least for you, the attraction you felt towards him. 
He was tall, dark and handsome and there was something in his eyes familiar to you. It was the same hurt you saw in yours every time you looked into the mirror. 
And it took a while for him to warm up to you, the past years he had spent in Colombia haunting his every thought.
Getting used to that strange woman that was now living in his childhood home, laughing with his father in the kitchen. 
The woman that was sleeping in the tiny guest bedroom next to his childhood bedroom that he lived in yet again, because he had not idea what to do with his life. 
The woman he fucked for the first time after a fourth of July celebration almost two years ago, fireworks going off while he was balls deep inside of you on the backseat of his truck in the parking lot of the already closed gas station he had stopped at on your way home. 
You hadn’t really stopped since then. 
For more than two years you had been sleeping with Javier whenever you both felt like it. 
But that was all it was. 
Sex. 
Because you both weren’t ready for more. Or to name these… feelings you had whenever you were in each other’s arms. 
Thunder outside made you jump on the bed and you grabbed one of Javier’s flannel shirts you had stolen the week before, pulling it over your naked body. 
You would tell him you were scared of thunder when he would wake up to you in his bed the next morning. 
Because you could not tell him that the only way you found yourself sleeping lately, was in his arms. 
Not yet.
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He did not hear you as you opened the door, the heavy rain continuing to fall. 
You had looked for him in his room, finding the bed still made. But there was a light on in the kitchen so you followed you intuition, finding him outside. 
Javier was sitting in the far left corner of the porch, legs spread wide, a cigarette between his fingers, a tumbler of what would probably be whiskey in his other hand. 
He was only wearing some sweatpants, the very same sweatpants that would make you forget what you wanted to say mid sentence when he had them on, or more like what was hiding beneath them. 
You let the door fall shut behind you and he looked up, those dark brown eyes wandering up from your feet all over your body towards your eyes before he looked away again, bringing his cigarette back to his lips, inhaling the smoke deeply. 
You both just stared out, the rain seemingly getting heavier before you heard him set his glass down on the ground. He spread his legs wider and you bit your lip before you slowly walked over to him, stopping as you stood between his legs for only a moment, before you climbed into his lap, the hand that had been holding his glass moments ago, coming down to rest on your ass immediately, making you shiver. 
You reached for the cigarette between his lips, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion until you slipped it between yours so you could take a puff, his eyes softening in amusement. You felt his other hand slip under your shirt, his fingers brushing the underside of your tits. 
„Was wondering where this shirt went,“ he hummed and your lips twitched into a small smile as you took another puff of his cigarette before you threw it outside into the rain. He was about to complain when you crossed your arms behind his neck and brought you lips against his, his mouth opening against your as you exhaled the smoke from your lungs. 
Closing your eyes as he kissed you, you brought one hand up to slip through his hair while his hands both now rested on your ass, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer against him, his hips thrusting up against yours, his cock hardening beneath you. 
He spread your cheeks before one of his hands slipped further down and you felt him chuckle against you.
„No panties and a half buttoned shirt. What a little slut you are,“ he said, his voice hoarse and you gasped when you felt two of his fingers enter you, your slick coating your his fingers as he played with you. 
„Says Mr. No shirt and no boxers, sitting outside with his legs spread like a who…. Fuck Javi right there,“ you moaned, biting your lip as he moved his fingers inside of you.
„Right there?“ He asked with a smirk and you nodded, looking down at him as you arched your back. 
„Touched myself but couldn’t… fuck… couldn’t finish. Needed, needed…“ you whimpered.
„Your pussy needed me, huh?“ He teased and you whined. 
He made quick work of the few buttons that kept his shirt on you, his lips closing around one of your nipples, as soon as he had slipped his shirt down your shoulders, revealing your naked chest to him. 
„Javi… Please…“ you moaned, one of your hands on his shoulders, holding on while your other hand was still in his hair, now pulling him against your tits as he sucked on one of them. 
„What do you need, princess?“ He mumbled. 
„Need your cock. Wanna cum on your cock. Please,“ you begged and you felt his teeth pull at you nipple, making you hiss before he let go. His dark eyes looked up at you, before his fingers pulled out of you and he pushed his sweatpants down just so he could release his cock. 
Before he could do anything you had him lined up with you and slowly sank down on him, both of you releasing a long moan. 
Lightening made you jump before you sank down on his cock completely and Javier hissed, his arms coming around you to pull you closer, both of you breathing heavily before you both laughed. 
„Maybe we should take this inside,“ he said as he looked up at you, one of his hands brushing up and down your spine. You shook your head before you brushed your lips against his. 
„No. I want you just like this,“ you whispered against his lips before you began to move your hips. He hummed, his hand now on the back of your head, pulling you against his lips so he could deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips to part them. 
You rode him slowly. 
One arm wrapped around his shoulders while your other hand rested on his chest. 
Javi’s hand was on your ass, guiding the way you moved on top of him while his lips kissed whatever part of your skin he could reach. 
The rain and the fact that you were out in the open were forgotten as he began to meet your hips, thrusting up into you. You wrapped both of your arms around him, moving on top of him so you could ride him deeper, your chest now in perfect height so he could suck on your tits. 
„Oh fuck Javi,“ you moaned and he slapped your ass, fucking up into you, meeting your hips in audible smacks every time you skin collided. 
You could feel the familiar tingles of your orgasm approaching. 
„I’m close,“ he warned and you whimpered. 
„Me too,“ you gasped, crying out when he bit into the soft flesh over your right nipple, marking you yet again. 
„Cum for me,“ he grunted and you looked down at him. 
„Cum for me so I can take you inside and have you sit on my face until you pass out,“ he continued and you let him take over, letting him fuck into you in quick hard thrusts as you orgasm took over, making you shake against him your fingers digging into his skin on his broad back as you held on to him. 
„Such a good slut for me,“ he praised you, now chasing his own high, fucking into you a couple more times until you felt him spill himself inside of you, your name a deep rumble against you neck as he hugged you against his body. 
You stayed just like this for a moment. In each others arms, out of breath, the rain still coming down heavy just outside the porch. 
It was when he felt you shiver that you both came out of your post orgasm bliss. He pulled his shirt that you somehow still were half wearing back up over your shoulders, kissing you softly, a tired smile on his lips. 
„We should get inside,“ he hummed against your lips. You nodded, yet none of you moved, being content just like this, close, in each others arms, deep in the night when nobody was awake to see you like this. 
You could feel him drip of of you, his softening cock still inside of you. 
„Javi?“ You asked, your head resting against his shoulder. 
„Hm?“ He kissed your temple. 
„Can I sleep in your bed tonight?“ You whispered. He was quiet for a moment and you were about to get up from him when his arms around you tightened and you looked at him. 
„I… I suck at this,“ he sighed and you tilted your head. 
„Suck at what?“
„Relationships,“ he mumbled and your eyes softened. 
„Is that what this is?“ You asked quietly and his eyes were big and he looked so so scared. 
„It could be, if you want that,“ he finally said and you smiled. You reached one hand up so you could touch his cheek before you leaned in and kissed him softly. 
„I do want that,“ you mumbled and you felt him smile against your lips.
„Yeah?“ Javi asked and you nodded. 
„Good, cause I am not letting you go ever,“ he whispered, before kissed you again. 
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zablife · 5 months ago
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Runaway with Me
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Benny Cross x female reader
Divider credit @firefly-graphics
Summary: You're a nice college girl dating a fellow student and photographer named Danny, but your boring life comes to an end when you meet the man you've previously only lusted after in photos. When you spend a night with Benny, your whole world changes.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, language, drinking, infidelity (sorry Danny)
A/N: Kathy doesn't exist in this AU. Only my second fic for Benny. Let me know your thoughts! Comments are love 💕 No spoilers here!
Benny Cross Masterlist
“Hey,” a low voice called to you, rumbling like thunder on a warm summer night. His smoldering gaze stopped the click of your heels on the pavement before you could reach the bus stop, your attention stolen by a good looking blonde. You watched intently as the flashing streetlight illuminated his rugged jawline and muscular arms, sending a crackle of electricity down your spine.
“I know you,” he remarked mysteriously, taking a long drag of his cigarette.
Your throat went dry, as you struggled to answer. Readjusting your purse on your arm, you shook your head before you finally heard yourself whisper hoarsely, “I don’t think so.” However, you knew he was right, you’d seen his photos in Danny’s dorm room, though the prints hadn’t done him justice. 
“You’re that college girl Danny’s always talking about,” he added, eyes roving your body in obvious appreciation.
Your mouth dropped open at the mention of your boyfriend, heart beat quickening as you thought of the way you’d stared at those images, biting your lip in curious desire for a man you’d never met. It hadn’t occurred to you you might actually meet one day, but now it seemed your fantasy was coming true.
Locking eyes with him in a flirtatious stare, you almost felt guilty as you introduced yourself with a coy smile.
Benny's blue eyes twinkled and a wide grin spread across his face as he realized you weren't frightened of him.
"I'm Benny," he reciprocated without saying more. However, the way he allowed comfortable silence to linger, put you at ease long enough to explain that Danny stood you up, leaving you to take the bus home. You couldn’t help the anger that filled your voice, throat constricting with unshed tears as you wondered when you’d be as important as his silly book. 
Seeming to understand your need for distraction, Benny asked, “You wanna get out of here?” He didn’t wait for a reply before flicking his cigarette butt to the ground and throwing one leg over his bike.
As you thought of Danny's calls going unanswered, you picked at the strap of your bag hesitantly. “I don’t know, I should be getting back,” you reasoned quietly with yourself.
Benny held up his hands as though accepting defeat. “You gotta go, you gotta go,” he shrugged before starting up the bike.
You glanced over your shoulder toward the uninviting looking bench under the bus shelter just as the engine roared to life, impulsively grabbing his chiseled bicep. His chin jerked up at you in surprise, that adorable grin returning when you yelled, “I’m coming with you.”
Extending a ringed hand for you, he helped you onto the bike, snuggly fitting your arms around his trim waist with the instruction, “Hold on tight."
You didn’t bother asking where you’d be going, your desire for adventure steadily growing. When he accelerated toward the highway with wind rushing past your hair and colors blurring in your peripheral, you could think of nothing except the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the seductive thoughts multiplying with every new sensation.
Pressing your cheek against his back, you inhaled the intoxicating mixture of pomade and leather, closing your eyes to imagine it mingled with the sweat of exertion. The vibration of the bike beneath your legs, body molded tightly against his made you all the more eager for him.
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When he pulled into a local motel and helped you off the bike, your legs had turned to jelly and you couldn’t be sure if it was from the overwhelming experience of the ride or your sudden nerves as you waited to see what might happen next. 
Benny didn’t seem to notice, walking toward his door with a slow, but confident strut. “Want a drink?” he asked, holding the door for you. 
You fidgeted with your necklace as you peeked your head into the small, yet tidy room where he said he’d been staying for the past month.
He offered you the first bottle of beer, knocking the cap off against the dresser with a sharp crack. He shook the fizz from his hand, sucking a little off his thumb before placing the bottle in your hand.
As your fingertips brushed against each other, it renewed the electricity dancing between you, his eyes darkening to a deeper shade of blue as lust overtook his gaze.
With a shaky breath you took a sip and placed the bottle onto the table, quickly forgetting it as he took hold of your arm and pulled you into a searing kiss.
As the cool metal of his rings touched the burning skin of your cheeks, you moaned against him, allowing him the opportunity to lick into your mouth hungrily. He was gentle, but firm as his tongue fought yours for dominance, hands tangling in your hair as his passion increased.
His calloused hands memorized every inch of you on their way down your body to find the hem of your top and pull it over your head. Nipping softly at your lower lip, he distracted you momentarily to unclip your bra and toss it aside, stopping long enough to suck in a breath at the sight of your breasts. 
Ducking his head to take a pert nipple into his mouth he lapped and sucked against the sensitive bud, making you whimper with need. 
“Like that, pretty girl?” he asked softly, hand kneading your other breast until you thought you’d cum from that simple touch alone. Hands resting atop his blonde curls, you pushed him away gently to catch your breath and he huffed out a little laugh. “A little too much, huh?”
Taking his lead, you wasted no time removing his jacket and shirt to reveal the taut planes of his chest and abs. Skating your fingers across the lean muscle with a sigh, you leaned in to place scattered kisses along his collarbone. You watched the vein in his neck jump before ghosting your lips over his throbbing pulse and chose a place to suck a bruise. 
He hissed as you tongued over it in soothing circles, fingertips clutching at your hip when you blew a stream of cold air across his flesh. Deciding to push him further, you snaked a hand down his front, palm gliding over the coarse material of his jeans. A low rumble of satisfaction came from his chest as you stroked his growing bulge, his hips involuntarily bucking against your hand. 
You smirked at his responsiveness and the fact that he was much bigger than you’d imagined. Unable to wait any longer, your fingers fumbled excitedly with his belt buckle, Benny groaning at the promise of release for his aching cock.
Falling to your knees, you helped him out of his pants and watched his cock bounce against his tan stomach. The little gasp that left your throat seemed to amuse him as he tilted his head to savor the sight of you before him.
Hand reaching for him like a prize, you began long slow licks along his shaft before taking the spongy head between your lips, eager to please. No sooner had you begun, he grasped for your shoulder to steady himself from the dizzying pleasure, opposite hand sweeping the hair from your face to watch himself disappear down your throat.
Benny’s moans began to fill the room as you worked, a stuttered breath escaping when you stopped to kitten lick and suck lightly on the tip, holding eye contact with him. The sight of your angelic face staring up at him through your lashes, saliva running down your chin was almost too much for him to bear. He knew he couldn't resist you if you continued much longer.
Within seconds you felt him capture your wrists, pulling you up to your feet as he gulped and shook his head. "Not yet, baby."
Walking you backward until the backs of your knees hit the bed behind you, he pushed you onto the mattress with a bounce. You giggled as his eager fingers hooked into the waist band of your skirt and underwear, tugging them down to reveal all of you to him. "So beautiful," he exclaimed, long fingers tracing over your chest and stomach reverently.
He hovered over you, placing kisses to your neck as his fingers found your slick folds, opening you up slowly until you were practically dripping down his fingers. Adding a thumb to circle over your clit, your back arched off the bed and he hushed you with a deep kiss which only intensified when he felt you clench around his digits.
"Need you, Benny," you whined, clutching at his broad shoulders and urging him to rest his weight over you. He pressed his forehead to yours, nuzzling your nose in a gesture far too sweet for the single, powerful thrust that came next. Tears sprang to your eyes from the exquisite feeling of fullness, the pressure on your g-spot intense and immediate.
Benny stilled the moment he'd seated himself inside you, shuddering slightly to hold himself back as he allowed you time to adjust to his size. His cool blue eyes drank you in before resuming a steady rhythm that had you writing beneath him, head tossed back onto the pillows.
The slow drag of his cock against your sensitive walls sent your nerve endings firing little sparks of heat through your core, somehow amplifying the need for more. Benny sensed it immediately, raising your leg to his hip and sank even deeper with a low rumble of satisfaction, matched only by your lustful mewls.
Spurred on by every sweet sound you made, his hips began snapping against you, a light sheen of sweat coating his chest. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging slightly at the roots as your brain fogged with pleasure. As he fucked you into the mattress, your eyes fluttered closed, only vaguely aware of him slipping his thumb into your mouth. Sucking eagerly against the salty skin, you heard Benny groan loudly as the sensation shot straight to his cock.
Removing his thumb with a pop, he snaked his hand between you to circle the small bundle of nerves at your apex causing your mouth to drop open. He leaned in for a kiss unlike before, messy and demanding. "Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" he asked breathlessly.
You gave a pathetic nod, biting your lip as you felt the coil in your stomach ready to snap. Staring into the oceans of Benny's endlessly blue eyes, a soft static began buzzing in your ears as you heard him whisper, "Yeah? Let me see." His warm breath hit the shell of your ear just as you tipped over the edge, white heat consuming your body. Wave after wave crashed over you, melting your brain and making your limbs turn gooey.
Benny fucked you through it as he chased his own high, hips stuttering before he pulled out with a quick jerk. Emptying himself onto your stomach in hot, thick ropes, he exhaled a contented sigh and smiled down at you with a lopsided grin.
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Hours later, overcome with exhaustion, you curled into Benny's side beneath the covers. Safe and warm in his embrace, you found yourself talking about anything and everything. He listened with rapt attention as you described your boring college, the pressure that came with the classes and your dream to escape, seeing the country the way Danny had.
Mostly, Benny listened, but he talked a little about his own travels too. The life he was leading fascinated you and you found yourself wishing you were part of it. However, your voice began to trail off as you glimpsed the far off look in Benny's eye.
Truthfully, Benny found the excitement in your voice endearing and he couldn't help fantasizing about taking you on the road with him. As he idly traced patterns against your arm, he found himself suddenly saying, "Runaway with me."
Clutching the duvet to your chest you turned to stare at him in disbelief. "What?"
His jaw set determinedly, he nodded to indicate he was serious about what he'd said. "Be my girl," he added, eyeing you carefully to see if you'd accept.
Your heart knocked against your chest as you swiftly agreed, moving to straddle him and take his face between your hands for a celebratory kiss.
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As the first rays of sun hit Benny’s eyes, he groaned in protest. The morning had come too quickly despite his best efforts to savor the night with you. Turning over in bed to drag you closer to him, his arm stretched over the cold, empty sheets. Clutching the material in his fist until his knuckles turned white, he wondered if you’d caught a cab, leaving the moment you came to your senses. 
Shuffling to the side of the bed to retrieve his jeans, he wondered why he’d been foolish enough to think you’d go anywhere with him when you had so many other opportunities. But he couldn’t think about all that before he’d had a cigarette so he fell out the front door, digging in his pockets for a lighter.
Just as he stumbled off the concrete step, he nearly tripped over the chair you’d placed outside the door, eliciting a cry of surprise from you.
As he quickly apologized, you clutched his Vandals jacket to your shoulders, giggling at his disheveled appearance. He was still effortlessly handsome despite his hair sticking up in all directions, the streaks of golden blonde catching the sunlight and arousing another wave of desire in you. However, you noticed he seemed too distracted to reciprocate.
“I thought you left,” he admitted, graveled voice still full of sleep as he closed the motel door behind him.
You raised the hand that held your cigarette, explaining, "Just came out for a smoke.”
As he retrieved the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear, he considered you warily. "Before you took off with my jacket?"
"I was going to give it back when I came in to wake you up," you explained softly, standing to stub out your cigarette with the toe of your shoe.
He turned his back to you, pretending to survey the parking lot as he nodded in understanding, "You gotta go."
You wrapped your arms around his waist, cheek pressed to his back as you imagined you'd do many more times in the future during long rides together. "We have to go. I thought we were running away together," you reminded him with a playful nudge.
He turned around instantly, pulling you close by the lapels of his jacket for a long kiss. Smirking against your lips he murmured, "Then let's go, baby."
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blackwidownat2814 · 3 months ago
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Steal My Thunder (T.Owens)
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader
Word Count: 462
A/N: Welcome to my first Tyler Owens fic! I was throwing fic ideas around before I even saw the movie. I watched several interviews and other stuff on YouTube and took notes even. Then after seeing it the third time, I started working on this story. I don't anticipate this being a real long story, but I also will be a little slow to update because of work or writer's block or working on a crochet project I really need to finish. What I'm really saying is please be patient with me. Secondly, like in my other works, I'd planned to make this with a plus size!reader in mind, but I decided to go with insecure because I want to try and be a little more inclusive. Also, unless otherwise stated, my readers are always female readers. Lastly, I'm already working on Chapter 1, so keep an eye out for that. However, if you really like this, please let me know and I can tag you in future updates. And as always, I will be crossposting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen Kthxbye! PS: Thanks to KJ & Jordyn for their help in beta-ing and title/chapter ideas! Love y'all!
Prologue
You were a Lead Meteorologist for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.  You should not be handling school age tour groups.  You were just about DONE with being treated like a secretary.  The rest of them thought that just because Kate was gone that they could go back to treating you like they did before her.
You were quiet, shy, and someone whose love language was acts of service, so you loved to help people out.  The problem was that your co-workers abused that part of you.  They asked to lead the school groups, bring everyone coffee, put together packets for meetings, etc.  Complete nonsense…and you were done.
It was then, as you mentally typed up your resignation, that you received a serendipitous call from Kate herself.
“I believe the sayin’ is ‘No man left behind’.”
“You’re not an US Army Ranger, B.”
“Yeah, well…”  You trailed off, not wanting to burden your friend with your issues.  Kate always told you that it was okay to talk to her when you needed someone, but you were stubborn.  You were very much of the ‘friends aren’t therapists’ mindset.
“Talk to me B.”
“I’m happy for you, ya know?  You’re back to doing’ something I know you loved.  I can see it in your eyes with each video or stream I watch.”
“Okay, keep your secrets…and thank you.  I am happy.”
“So…what can I do for ya?  Why are you botherin’ me on my lunch hour?”
“Damn!  Sorry about that B.”
“You know I don’t actually care.  Tell me what’s up.”
“I’m callin’ with a job off-”
“I’ll take it.”
“Woah, I haven’t even said what it-”
“I don’t care.  Ever since you left, and because I’m a huge push over, everyone’s been walking all over me.  You know I had to do three tours today?”
“We’ve talked about this.”
“I know Kate.  Just…what’s the job anyway?”  Your friend was silent for a moment, before you heard her exhale.
“It’s storm data analysis really.”
“Elaborate.”
“We’re trying to really get down to the nitty gritty with the data from the EF-5 we got to dissipate last season and see where to improve, how to catalog it in our info database, etc.”
“I’m in”, you said.  “Y’all won’t treat me like some secretary, I’ll be close to home again, and I’ll get to spend all my time with you.”
“We most definitely will not treat you like some secretary.  We’re equal opportunity storm chasers out here.”
You tossed your empty sandwich bag into the trash and pulled up Word to start drafting your resignation letter.
“Say, what are the benefits as a Tornado Wrangler?”  Before Kate could reply, you heard Boonie baby! Woo! in the background.
With that enthusiasm, what could possibly go wrong?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tagging: @buckysdollforlife @13braincellsonly
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saiyanprincessswanie · 4 months ago
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Mine - Part 4
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Pairing: Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Word Count: 2643
Summary: Steve and Reader struggle with whether they can trust one another or not. Both have feelings but is it enough to forgive and start over? Will they be able to have the future they each dream of?
Series Warning: NON/DUB CON, Swearing, Angst, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Male Masturbation, Somnophilia, Drugging, Light Bondage, Physical Fighting, Rough Sex, Choking, Female and Male Oral, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Forced Orgasms, Spanking and Stockholm Syndrome
Please READ the Warnings!! These will be touched on throughout the series.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait with this fic. I just have recently been able to type again after my right shoulder surgery.
A/N 2: This chapter isn’t as dark as the other ones.
Moodboard by @fictional-affairs
Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo
Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. Even if you leave an emoji you will make my day. 😊💜
I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫 🚫
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Time seemed to go by slowly as you sat in the bedroom window watching as Steve finished chopping up logs for the fireplace. A faint sound of thunder echoes throughout the room and little goosebumps rise on your skin. You snuggle into your hoodie to chase away a storm that is brewing not just outside but within you as well. Steve grabs a bunch of logs and starts heading to the house. Light rain falls from the sky covering the ground below. You hear the door open and close downstairs followed by him walking around. 
The storm seems to pick up as the wind blows through the trees. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs and your hands start to fidget in your lap. Will he be in a good mood today? Your heart is beating faster and faster the closer his footsteps reach the door. Suddenly a key unlocks the door and you hold your breath. Which Steve will greet you today? The door creaks open and you sit as still as you can. 
“Doll? I got a fire going in the fireplace and soup simmering on the stove. Why don’t you come join me?” His words held no authority in it but a simple request. 
You slowly stand up and turn to face him, walking over to where he stood in the doorway. Your eyes glanced over him as he stood before you in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. He gives you his million-dollar smile and pulls you in for a hug. Closing your eyes you let him envelop you in his arms. Your arms wrap around his body and you just give in. A minute later he is taking your hand and walking you down the stairs. 
The warmth from the fire hits you as soon as you descend the stairs. The smell of wood burning and soup filled the air as you took a deep breath in. Gosh if this was only a different time and place you would swear you were home. 
Steve leads you over to the table and pulls your chair out for you. You offer a shy smile and thank him. Steve kisses the top of your head and walks the short distance to the kitchen where he can still see you. 
Your eyes scan the dining room and kitchen. Steve was right, this is how you wanted your future house to look like. It’s as if he took all the ideas from your head and made it a reality. Everything in here was perfect except the man you once loved was a kidnapping, psychopath who had ripped away any trust you had in him. Tears lightly poured from your eyes and before you could do anything Steve was wiping them away. 
You hadn’t noticed that he brought the soup over to the table. Instead, he kneels next to you and continues to wipe them away gently as he takes in your shaking body.
“Doll, what’s wrong? You know you can speak to me about anything, right?” His voice is laced with concern and his deep blue eyes stare at you taking everything in. 
You shake your head as you continue to cry. What if you shared the truth about everything with him? Would he still carry out this twisted plan?
“Steve I can’t, I won’t share my thoughts cause you will just be mad at me. I don’t want to be humiliated again with your punishments. Let’s just eat and forget about it, okay?” 
Steve just stared at you. He knew something was weighing on you but did he want the truth? What if it was about leaving could he keep his composure? He shook his head knowing that this was tearing you apart inside and being this nervous around him wasn’t healthy.
“Please, doll, I promise I won’t be upset with you. Just tell me the truth.” His hand caresses your cheek. “I swear I won’t punish you for being honest with me. All I want in this world is for you to be happy with me.”
Your gaze drops to your lap where your hands are and you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself. You look back up into his blue eyes and decide it is now or never.
“It’s not that easy Steve to tell you this. There is no question that before all of this, I loved you from the moment I met you. Your smile drew me in and I knew I was yours forever. At that time you would flirt but always held back with me like you were searching for something else or maybe someone else. That was until recently and your emotions shifted so quickly that I felt overwhelmed but excited that you finally wanted me. But that’s a lie 'cause you just want to breed me.”
Steve’s breath hitched and he was about to retort before you cut him off.
“That night we made love, I finally felt like my dreams were coming true and that maybe you had loved me all along. But that’s not the case. You said it yourself last night you want me to listen to you and not question anything you say. But how can I not question your behavior? You’re mean, and controlling and you have a device on me to keep my super soldier serum from working. You talked about how I broke your trust, have you ever considered that you shattered my trust with you? The love I once had for you is slowly falling apart and I don’t think I could ever love you under these circumstances.”
Steve listened as you poured your heart out. A part of him wanted to be angry about what you’re saying, while another part of him couldn’t believe that you were once in love with him. Once? Steve shook his head, maybe he was going about this in the wrong way. He never liked bullies and from what she is saying he sounded just like one.
“Steve trust goes both ways. If you want me to earn yours then you must earn mine as well. This dominant thing you’re doing over me won’t work if you want true love and a family one day. I’m pleading with you to stop this madness and let’s work on us before my love goes out like a flame never to be lit again.”
He takes a breath in and out trying to contain himself. Yes, he could see what she was saying about him. Steve did want her to make a family with but it was more than that. Little did she know he loved her the same, from the very beginning. He didn’t think for an instance that Tony would match them together in a million years, that’s why it never went beyond flirting. Steve took her hands in his and decided he needed to be honest.
“Look doll, I have loved you from the day we met. I never thought I would ever have a future with you. Not until Tony said we matched. I was so focused on finding the right woman who could have my children that I got blinded along the way. I’ve never wanted to hurt you nor do I plan on it. I just want a chance at us. For what could be? But it’s hard to trust your intentions after you tried to run away from me. How can I know if what you’re saying is the truth?” His eyes pleaded to hers as he searched her face for answers.
There is no way he loved her for that long. But, what if he is telling the truth? She closed her eyes and thought back to the beginning. Their awkward conversations, the silly jokes, him always complimenting her, the soft touches when no one looked and then it clicked. Her eyes opened wide and a tear fell from them again.
“I’m sorry I tried to run away but I was scared. I didn’t know what you wanted to do with me. You can believe this to be the truth. With how messed up this situation is I don’t want to be away from you. Look if we both try, maybe we can work towards trusting one another again. What do you say?”
Steve gave you that smile you always loved. He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s try again and work towards trusting one another. I promise to not harm you or take you against your will again. But know this, if you are lying to me you will know my wrath, and trust me when I say you haven’t seen the mean side of me yet.”
The last sentence sent chills through your body. By the way, he was looking at you, you swore there was something evil brewing. You kept telling yourself to relax and everything would be okay. If you did decide to run, the time had to be right. For now, your feelings were telling you to try things with Steve. What’s the worst that could happen?
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The next morning you woke up to Steve cuddling you close and your legs tangled together. You had gone to bed in just his t-shirt and he slept naked.  The rain had ended overnight and the sun was rising in the sky. You reflected on last night after you spoke your truth. Steve let you sit by the fireplace and read a book instead of locking you in the bedroom. It was a nice moment between the two of you when he sat on the other end of the couch with your legs in his lap. 
Before bed, Steve had told you that tomorrow you both were going to try to start over again. That he would follow your lead on this while he learns to trust you again.
You smile to yourself as you soak up all the cuddles from him and let out a sigh of contempt. Just as you wiggle your butt from excitement you hear a groan behind you.
“Keep that up and I’m going to fill that pretty pussy.”
A giggle escaped your lips. “So what if I want you to?”
Steve’s eyes opened at that comment and he had a grin on his face. “Is that so?” He questioned. 
When you wiggled again Steve quickly rolled you onto your back and parted your legs so he could now lay in between them. Steve pushed his shirt up and pulled it off quickly. He rubbed his cock against your already wet pussy. You couldn’t help but be excited cause you knew how well Steve was between the sheets. Steve’s cock started to get covered in your arousal and the tip of his cock kept nudging your entrance until finally, he slid home. 
Both of you let out a groan once he was fully inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist and your hands claw at his back when he starts moving with hard thrusts. Your nails rake down his back with every thrust of his hips. Steve is on his forearms so he can kiss and swallow your moans. With every thrust, you moan and gasp in pleasure. He keeps a steady, hard pace and you end up squealing in pleasure as he hits a certain spot inside you that has you seeing stars. With every thrust, you’re getting closer and closer to your impending orgasm. Steve quickly scoops your legs up with both arms and pushes your legs to your chest deepening his thrusts. 
Your fingernails scrape down his arms as you try to find a way to ground yourself from the pleasure he is giving you. Steve keeps thrusting into you harder and harder while he starts to play with your clit. It brings your orgasm to a peak as you scream his name into the abyss. Your pussy clenches down on his cock as he continues to plow into you. Once you come down from your high Steve pulls out of you and flips you over to your stomach. Pulling you to your knees he sinks back into your velvety walls and fucks you hard and fast as his fingers dig into your hips. 
This is everything Steve has wanted from you. You're being submissive to him whether you realize it or not. Your head is on the bed, fists clenched into the sheets while you moan out incoherent words. He desperately wants to fill you up and breed you. He knows having a baby will link you two forever and the time to start that family is now. 
The faster Steve is pounding into you the closer he is getting to his high but lord he needs you to cum one more time. His left-hand leaves your hip and his fingers move down to circle your clit again. All it takes is a few swipes and you're screaming his name to the heavens above. Your cunt grasps his cock and milks him dry as Steve cums deep inside you. His groans fill the air as he gives a couple more sloppy thrusts into you. Steve looks down on your spent form and leans over your back to kiss your shoulder. 
Once he pulls out of you he goes to the bathroom to clean himself up before he returns to you with a washcloth. Gently he cleans you up and throws the washcloth in the laundry hamper. You’re completely exhausted and feel like you can barely move. If you had your super soldier serum running through your veins instead of suppressed you could have kept up with him, no problem. Now your body could just roll over to your back and look up at him. 
He was smiling down at you looking like a man who just finished a successful mission. You lifted your arms a little to show him you wanted a hug. Steve lay next to you and brought you in for a hug. He held you close to his chest as you snuggled into him. Your cheek rubbed against his chest hair as you enjoyed this feeling of euphoria. 
Maybe things could work out between you both and you could have a happy ending? It just depends on how Steve decides to treat you, like an object or someone to be loved unconditionally. You both promised to start over and this was the best way to show each other how much you loved one another. Hopefully, he will begin to trust you over time and maybe get your super soldier serum flowing through your veins again. I mean it’s not like he wants you like a regular woman, right? There is always going to be that adventurous side of you and you’re going to want a normal life that isn’t just sex. Though you had to admit this is the best sex you’ve had in your life. It’s everything you dreamed of minus the kidnapping part. 
Steve kisses you on the forehead and groans as he stretches. “Why don’t we get in the shower and I will cook breakfast for you? I’m sure you’re hungry. What does my lovely doll want to eat?”
You smile up at him and answer, “Well I do have a craving for pancakes and you sure do make the best ones.”
Chuckling, Steve nods his head. “I can do that for you, doll.”
Steve rolls out of bed and pulls you to your feet. As you walk to the bathroom Steve slaps your butt playfully. “Though first, I think I need another round of you in the shower.”
You squeal in delight as you head to the bathroom. Maybe this could work, you think to yourself as the hot water sprays down on both of you. Today is a brand new day to figure out whatever it is between the two of you. 
Taglist:
@americasass81
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@caffiend-queen
@caplanbuckybarnes
@denisemarieangelina
@fictional-affairs
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otakuworks · 2 years ago
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❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔. angst
feat. Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader | wc. 2.1K
sum. it was always him who has to go and leave you with the cold sheets, leon didn't know what it felt like until he came home with an empty house and no signs of your warmth. he makes it to his mission to find you.
note. entirely self indulgent since I'm a sucker for this man. no leon in this fic is not as old as he was in the gif.
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main m.list re m.list
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Today the storm would hit. All the local news channels were talking about the immense storm that was brewing just outside the city walls. You usually prefer the tranquility it brought if it wasn't for the gloomy atmosphere in the room.
Dim lights, closed tawdry curtains and half eaten confectionery. This setting was not unfamiliar to you, in fact, you had grown accustomed to the regular loneliness that it became your best friend.
With your boyfriend far away, it wasn't hard to decipher you were in a relationship with someone who prioritize their work.
It's a bitter thought at first, but as much as you want Leon to switch job you had already adapted this type of life as his S/O. He provided your necessities in his absence, but you still worked your ass to earn your own money
But. . . such glamorous life is not as tempting as being alone in that cold home and befriending with the ghosts that haunt your nightmares.
To a stranger's standpoint they may think Leon Kennedy is a Prince Charming; he may look the part, but to you, he was just an awkward boyfriend with little to no experience when it came to romance. He was rough around the edges and a goal-orientated person, but a natural smooth flirt with you.
Maybe that's what drawn you to him. Leon is a charming and handsome man who only has raw emotions to confess. You remember how adorable he was when he fumbled his confession.
You miss the startup of your relationship; the typical hand holding, the cliche whispers of sweet nothingness, the innocent stolen glances, the often awkward conversation that led to one another.
Relationships do start like a paradise before eventually becoming a dystopian nightmare. It was fun at the start, you enjoyed the times you spent with Leon and you wouldn't trade those memories for anything, however. . . it's been so long since you've seen paradise.
It's always the dawn light basking you in its morning warm before the cold space besides your bed wakes you up to reality.
Today was no different. You wake up, take a hot bath, make breakfast, eat your breakfast, brush your teeth, go to work, make or buy lunch, go home, nap, make dinner then sleep. A repetitive cycle that still leaves you bedridden oftentimes.
You're aware of his profession. No, he didn't tell you anything and he doesn't know that you know. You were smart enough to deduce this much on what's going on with your boyfriend, that's why you understood why he had to be away for such long periods of time.
Hadn't you pieced it together, you'd doubt his loyalty to you. You badly want to confront him with the relevation you found, but he hasn't been answering your texts nor calls. So you let it be.
Until you received a short message from him;
"Hey, sweet cake. I'll be back by tomorrow morning."
You laugh bitterly. Every text he sends is neither comprised with a greeting of his arrival or his departure. Now that you think about it. One strong scroll up to your previous conversations and you'll be overwhelmed by a tons of same texts.
Thunder roared, the heavy rain began pelting down and you took it as a sign to retire to your shared bedroom.
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You slumped in the mattress with a blissful sigh, today's work was tiring as usual. Sleep was lulling you in your dreams when you heard an audible thud reverberating in the living room.
*THUD*
Bristling, a frown settled on your forehead and tried to make sense if it was a figment of your imagination due to lassitude or there's someone in the house. The latter made your heart leap and you promptly got up, out of your somnambulism.
The harsh pitter pat plus the occasional thunder outside only increases the building anxiety in your chest.
Was it Leon? It couldn't be him when he just texted me. He usually rings the bell, and that's not how our doorbell sounds.
Albeit slowly as to try not to make any noise, you peak through the small gap between the door's hinges and a shadow immediately loomed the other side.
Out of instinct, you gasped audibly and clamped your hands over your mouth, hoping whoever's outside has a poor hearing sense.
Your eyes darted in the small room to find any form of weapon you can defend yourself. If Leon works for the government, surely he must be hiding his guns somewhere in his home.
However, you weren't quick enough to deduce the possible location before the door is kicked open making you shriek in fright and hid on the other side of the bed.
You had grabbed your phone on the nightstand and began to type to your boyfriend. Hopefully he'll see it before you get killed.
This intruder is not even hiding the fact they're here. If so, they're not your simple criminal who steals at night.
"Never thought I'd hear the rookie got himself a partner in life, he can't even get a partner in his job." A gruff voice bounced off the four walls of the small room.
It's definitely not Leon and you've never met this man before.
A glinting object from the drawers of your night stand caught your undivided attention. With shaking hands, you fumble to open the drawer and nearly sigh out of relief when you came across a simple gun. You immediately snatched it and switch the safety.
Footsteps began to near your spot. "What a shame, though. I love a good hunt and you didn't even give me a proper one. You're disappointing as your boyfriend." In one swift movement, the bed you were hiding was swooped from the other corner.
Your terrified scream were drowned by the sound of the loud banging reverberating countless times in the room, the poor wooden bed easily breaking upon meeting the cold stone wall with such brutal force. The pieces clanked with a rough thud.
You coiled tightly like a spring in the corner with your almost unhinged jaws, full moon eyes, chattering teeth, drenched temples and shuddering shoulders.
In your frenzy state, you subconsciously held the gun at the man, fingers curling on the trigger. "Ah! Ah! It won't do you any good if you pull that. After all, my knives are faster than guns."
"W-Who are you?" You praised yourself for even uttering those words as you look up at the bulky man. The most noticeable feature you noticed is the scar running from left eye to the side of his lips. He's clad in what it looks like a standard military outfit.
An airy chuckle left his mouth, he bends down on your level making you recoil even further at the corner.
"Who am I? Let's ask your boyfriend after he saves you, that is, if he will come save you. Sweet dreams, Y/N L/N."
You were harshly slammed in the head before you could wonder how he knows your name or if you had the time to send Leon a parting message.
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A cold breeze morning welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets, ever so vibrant; full of life, peope, kaleidoscopic colors, children laughing. The only thing missing is you.
Leon was originally ecstatic about his somewhat safe return in your arms. He hasn't been home in literal months and saying he misses you would be an understatement of the year.
The previous mission took a while to accomplish because of unprecedented occurrences that made it impossible to finish in the given set of time.
But his ardor energy was brought down at the mention of another yet mission to accomplish. It's worse to think he can't even refuse it because it was given to him by the direct orders of the president.
What's even worse is that he has to fly to another country for this.
He was thankful enough that he gets to spend his day with you before departing to Spain. He's both physically and mentally drained to think about it. All he needs is to cuddle with you and convey about the many things he wants to talk with you.
It's the best he could do for you if he'd be away for god knows how long. He feels guilty for keeping you in his life if this is the treatment you'll receive from him.
You never asked him any questions, it's always about his health and everything, but personal questions? You never did. He knows it isn't because you're not interested, it's more like you already know.
He shakes his head at the thought. He's confident he has been discreet enough to not let anything slip on what he deals in his job.
Reaching the shared house, a sudden uneasiness crept in his back. It looks relatively normal on the outside, but Leon can't help the nagging feeling that something is not right.
He dropped his duffel bag by the door and cautiously rang the bell.
Each passing second being unresponsive was filled with anxiety.
Perhaps you're at work. With that in mind, he fished out the spare key to unlock the door. Upon turning the knob, the hinges fell apart until the whole door collapsed on the tiled floor.
On a daily scenario, Leon would've taken out his gun or knife by now knowing someone had broke in his home, where he thought you'd be the safest. You.
But he has been reduced to a state of panic that his eyes became frantic and his breathing became labor. No! No! No! NO!
The most rational thing would've been calling the cops to report this. The thing is, Leon is nowhere near rational. If any living thing crosses his path, god knows what he might do regardless if they're innocent or not.
"Y/N!" He ran straight to their bedroom. What he saw blurred his sense of reality. He can't even fathom what animal did this.
No. . . it's not a work of any animal. He's been around to all types of violence to decipher who did this. Fuck! This can't be happening.
Overwhelmed by the surge of fear, his mind alluded him under the illusion that Y/N could be hiding somewhere in the house. He searches the whole place.
Every room, even ones that don’t make sense— basement, pantry, closet, attic— are thrown open haphazardly in search of you. Each passing room turning out to be empty is taking more of his sanity.
Reality dawned him. You're gone. Taken. Captured. Possibly turned
Before he realizes it, a lone tear cascaded on his cheek.
This man was trained to be a cop, fought zombies on his first day, held his gun at any threats, obeyed any command. He's a soldier who's first instinct is to fight back when he's kicked down, who never gives up when he loses and yet. . .
He was slumped on the floor. Weakened. Hopeless.
The word 'irony' is quite befitting for him. He, who has been fighting all his life, can't even get up at the mere prospect of his S/O's disappearance.
He loves you. He fucking loves you so much it puts the word itself into shame. He didn't show it enough though.
Now that you're gone, he began to realize certain things. How lonely you must be whenever he leaves. What emotions you're feeling when he can't response to your texts. Do you think he's unfaithful? Well, he can't blame you.
He's always choosing work over you and often going behind your back to accomplish simple missions when he's supposed to be with you at night. It's considered as cheating, isn't it?
He gnawed his lip, head starting to clear but the agony stayed. No, he can't be swayed by his emotions like this. If he can accomplish the most impossible missions why can't he do the same with you?
He'll find you.
Once he does, there's nothing on Earth that'll stop him from raining hell on your captors.
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©OTAKUWORKS | 2023
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buddierecs · 5 months ago
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secret relationship buddie fics
all mature rating!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)
you and me by: woodchoc_magnum "an alternate ending to season 6, where buck realises that what he's been searching for has been right in front of him the whole time" word count: 55k important tags: getting together, angst with a happy ending, alternate ending, first kiss, smut, taking care of each other no one has to know what we do by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "five times the firefam find out about buck and eddie accidentally and one time it’s on purpose." word count: 4.1k important tags: relationship reveal, family feels got nothing but love for you (fall more in love everyday) by: smilingbuckley "5 times buck and eddie are almost caught + 1 time they are" word count: 6k important tags: hiding, mild sexual content, first dates, dorks in love, light angst, emotional hurt/comfort i give my hand to you with all my heart by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "eddie and buck go on a trip to big sur that changes their lives for ever." word count: 16k important tags: road trip, first kiss, first time, love confessions, friends to lovers to husbands.
no one knew (series) by: prosperdemeter "chimney, unknowingly, crashes date night." word count: 24k important tags: established relationship, oblivious!chimney, outsider pov their not so secret secret by: exporerofworlds "the five times the team suspected buck and eddie were together and the one time they knew." word count: 8.3k important tags: 5+1 things, fluff, angst, jealous!eddie diaz, found family, love confessions, soft!buddie let's take our time, baby (love lasts forever) by: lizzybizzyzzz "after a day full of sex-related calls on buck and eddie's three month anniversary, one member of the 118 catches them in a compromising position." word count: 7.1k important tags: humour, dirty thoughts, anniversary, hijinks & shenanigans, dirty jokes, fluff what would you do, if they never found us out? by: my_hopeless_opus "eddie and buck are secretly dating, but they get caught." word count: 5.4k important tags: hurt!buddie, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, couch cuddles, coming out
the sacred experience of intimacy by: princessfbi "don't speak... just kiss me." "wha—" the sound of surprise from buck was lost in an instant the moment eddie's lips crashed into his. the loud bass of the bar drifted away to the thundering of his own heart beating into his chest, roaring in his ears, and leaving him thrumming with the way it made his pulse points jump beneath his skin. eddie’s hand was heavy on the back of his neck. heavy and all encompassing as it anchored buck into the moment rather than letting him drift away with the breathlessness that was making him dizzy with disbelief." word count: 10k important tags: developing relationship, getting together, soft!buddie, taking care of each other, friends with benefits sinful lips of an angel by: justsmilestuffhappens "eddie getting flustered watching buck eat a popsicle at work on a very hot day in la. (sorry but buck's lips are sinful and eddie is only human) word count: 2.6k important tags: 5+1 things, oral fixation, teasing, bets & wagers, food kink, implied sexual content
if these walls could talk by: bellafarella "buck and eddie try to keep their new relationship a secret from their 118 family on a 24-hour shift. they’re not as subtle as they think." word count: 3k important tags: stolen moments, established relationship, kissing, love confessions, idiots in love, showering together, getting caught
off the cuff by: bigfootsmom "buck and eddie had plans for how they were going to reveal their relationship to their friends and teammates, but mother nature and some stubborn handcuffs are unreasonably good at ruining said plans." word count: 4.5k important tags: relationship reveal, handcuffs, humour, minor injuries, earthquakes
explicit rated secret relationship fics general audience rated secret relationship fics
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alexa-fika · 8 months ago
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Stolen Help (Whitebeard pirates x gn!child!reader)
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A/N This is kind of a request? It was from a comment by @being-worthy on the His One-Piece story, this what Dokucha would be up to the following day; I love how I said little yet it’s the same length as my other fics ���� let me tell you I was having second thoughts at first but I COOKED HERE
Reader here is replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japanese
Dividers by @/Saradika
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Dokucha grins, running out of the clinic with the stethoscope in hand
“Vista-nii!”
Vista turns to see the little child running towards him
“Dokucha? What are you doing with the stethoscope?” he asks with a chuckle
“I have to listen to your heart!”
“My heart?” he asks, tilting his head as he kneels downn to their height; he lets the little child run up to him and place the stethoscope over him
“Mmhm, mmhm, you have a pretty heart, Vista!”
He smiles, handing them a flower and tucking it in their stethoscope
“Thank you.”
“Take good care of it, Vista-nii! Umm, eat lots of vegetables so you grow strong!
“I don’t think… I will, don’t worry.”
The child gives them a thumbs up and runs off, leaving an amused Vista behind until a thought comes to mind
“Since when did they have a stethoscope?”
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“Ace-nii, Ace-nii!” The small child yells, running towards said commander
Ace looks up at the child and grins brightly
“Dokucha? Whatcha need?”
They tried to put the stethoscope over his chest, standing on their toes to make themselves taller, but even with their added height and stretching, they were unable to reach higher than his stomach
They put their heels back on the ground with a pout
“You’re too tall.”
Ace bursts out in laughter before lifting them up
“Better?”
They smile in response, putting the stethoscope over his chest and listening to the familiar drumming of his heart
The child nods approvingly
“Good heart!” They exclaim, putting one of their thumbs up towards the flame man and jumping off him, running off to find their next patient
Ace blinks, confused as to what just happened, turning around and scratching his head, trying to make sense of it
“Huh, must have decided to help Marco out,” he mutters
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Izou sat at one of the tables in the training room, meticulously cleaning his guns and making sure they were up to standard, turning his head at the sound of his name
“Izou-nii!”
The sniper looked up to see the little child racing towards him, the look of pure excitement on his face making him smile
“Dokucha? What are you up to now?”
“I need to check your heart Izou-nii!” The exclaims, climbing up in the seat next to him to put the stethoscope on his chest
“Okay,” he replied calmly; he tilted his head, letting the child place the stethoscope over him and listening to his heart
“Mmhm! Your heart sounds like your guns, Izou-nii.”
“Pardon?” he asked confused
“It’s going boom boom like brother’s guns!”
He smiles at the child, associating his heartbeat with his weapon of choice; he glances at the stethoscope
“Say, Dokucha, did Marco give you the stethoscope?”
They jump, startled at the question
“have to go!” They hurried out, quick to get themselves down from the chair and out of sight
He stares in the direction the child had disappeared to, letting out a chuckle and turning his attention back to the task at hand
“Someone is going to get an earful soon.”
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“Papaw, papaw!”
The Captain glances down and spots the small child making gestures to get his attention from down below
He grins easily, taking hold of them and raising them in his hand so he can see them better
“Come to tell me more about that checkup?”
They shake their head exited,
“I need to hear Papaw’s heartbeat,” they said, carefully slipping between his fingers and wrapping their legs around them in order to be able to put the stethoscope near his heart
“Wah, Papaw, your heart is slower, but it’s so loud!”
Whitebeard lets out a thundering laugh at their words, gently maneuvering them to the palm of his hand.
“My heart is not what it used to be, but it is still fighting!” he howled
“Pawpaw has the loudest heartbeat!”
Whitebeard laughs again
“I think that is to be expected,” he says with a grin
“Ah! I still need to listen to Thatch-nii’s Heartbeat!”
“Alright, he should be in the Kitchen getting ready for dinner; let me know if he has a louder heartbeat than mine.” He comments as he lowers the child to the floor
“Go ahead”
“Thank you, Pawpaw”
“Dokucha?”
“Mmhm?”
“Marco did lend you that, right?”
“Ha... Bye Papaw!” They said, quickly disappearing
He lets a snicker at their response, knowing what it meant.
“They are in for it now.”
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The only warning Thatch received before someone burst into his kitchen was the tiny steps in the wooden floors of the Moby dick
“Thatch-nii!”
Thatch looked up, startled by the interruption to his cooking, setting aside the chopping board
“Geez, kid, you scared me!”
They ignore his statement, pulling a stool next to the chef and slowly making their way up to come eye-to-eye with him, placing the stethoscope over his chest and gasping
Thatch raises an eyebrow, confused, as he hears them gasp
“Uh, dokucha?”
“Thatch-nii! You don’t have a heartbeat!” The cry fiddling with the chest piece and moving it around in hopes of finding a heartbeat
“Thats bec- his explanation is promptly cut off as another voice joins in
“It’s because you can’t hear the heartbeat through multiple layers of clothing; the others had no obstructions, so you could hear them clearly.”
They still at the voice, slowly turning around with a nervous smile
“Umm, Hi Marco-nii…”
Marco stares down at the small child
Thatch glances between the two and the stethoscope that the small child held between their hand and quixkly understood the situation, letting out a snort
“Again, Dokucha? You know he’s always going to find out.”
“Shhh, Thatch-nii, I just thought I could use it before he noticed.”
“You were wrong,” Marco muttered, quickly throwing the child over his shoulder and walking off
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Dokucha sat once again at the examination table, trying to avoid the stare of their brother
“The longer you decide to ignore me, the longer you will be here.” he shrugged
They glance up at him
“Sorry?”
he narrows his eyes at the child
“That’s not gonna get you out of this one”
“I just wanted to play with it a little and help you, I was going to give it back…
He pinches the bridge of their nose
“That’s just it; it’s not something to play around, Dokucha; it is a medical tool for me to use in medical settings.”
“I just like the sound and wanted to hear everyone’s heartbeat, and I thought it would help you.”
He sighed
“I know you do, but you can’t just take my tools as you please; if you had asked, I could have lent it to you to use in the clinic under my supervision, where I can explain to you what you are looking for when you use it.”
“Sorry…”
“So, should we be taking stuff from my office?”
“No…”
“Should you be taking stuff from anybody’s office?”
“No…”
“Should you be taking stuff that is not yours?”
“No”
“What should you do next time you want to use something that is not yours?”
“Ask first…”
“Good,” he said, ruffling their hair
“So, can I go now?”
“Absolutely not”
“Hah?”
“Since you seem so keen on helping, how about you help clean the clinic for the rest of the week?”
They whine at his words
“But Marco-nii~”
“Two weeks”
Their mouth drops at that
“That's too long!”
“Three weeks then.”
“Marco-nii!”
“Do I hear a month?”
They shake their head with a pout on their young face
“Glad we came to an understanding.”
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Okay so originally Thatcher was going to be one of the first one’s but the. I came up with the no-heartbeat and I look up at the other one’s and realize the whitebeard pirates just like showing off their chest and Thatch is the only one among them that has ir covered up in his layers of chef clothing
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
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ivystoryweaver · 1 year ago
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With you part 7
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<- prev next -> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist
Summary: Jake just kissed you. Will he let things change between you?
Pairings: Jake Lockley x reader, Steven Grant x reader, (Marc Spector x reader). Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.
Word Count: 2k
Warnings/notables: Angst, complicated relationship stuff, kissing, cursing, crying. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car
Dividers by saradika
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PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...
"Stop telling me what to do," you fired back, refusing to shrink away. "You're driving me crazy. If you don't want to talk to me, or know me - if you want to sneak in and out of here every night and never see me again, then just say so."
Your chest heaved with emotion. "I won't like it and I won't ever stop worrying about you, or wanting to know you, but --"
You didn't get to finish because Jake roughly pulled you into his arms and crushed his mouth to yours.
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You had expected something hard. Intense, possessive. Like Marc.
Or surprisingly, blisteringly seductive. Like Steven.
Jake was tender. And you fell apart in his arms.
Expecting a frantic shove up against the wall, you got, instead, arms cradling you like a treasure. He rocked you gently - gloved fingers winding behind your neck.
The searing heat of his tongue made your chest burn with longing. Realizing you had melted in his embrace, your own arms limp by your sides, you reached suddenly and desperately for his curls.
Knocking the cap off his head, you threaded your fingers through his hair, using the leverage to pull yourself upright, arching against his chest as he groaned into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.
Strong arms flexed against your back as he wrapped you up tighter, pulling his lips away for a moment and rubbing his nose against yours.
Unable to resist the heated temptation of your breath, he kissed you again, deeper this time - hungrier.
You were used to this body - accustomed to the response it ignited in you.
But, to Jake, you were all new. A wondrous discovery. He wanted to touch and feel you everywhere at once but the stupid bird was thundering in his head, sending a faint but definite breeze fluttering through the bedroom.
"Wait...mi vida," he panted against your parted lips, pushing you back by your shoulders. "I can't. I have to go"
Your entire world had changed in the span of a kiss - your heart, already so full of love for this system - dug down deeper to plant new roots for Jake to grow there. Forever was born anew in your soul, just like it had been when you met Steven...
...and he had to go?
"Jake," you gasped, undeterred by supernatural events around you, gripping his arms as if it might actually keep him with you. "Wait, please--"
"I know," he softly replied, touching his forehead to yours. "But people are in trouble. They need help."
Releasing you, he stepped back, reaching for his cap. "This is what I have to do. It's...the point of me."
"The point of you? Jake--"
"Yes," he answered firmly, pulling the flat cap over his curls before taking a few determined strides toward the door.
Pausing, he glanced back at you - breathtaking you, so adorable in your hoodie and joggers, peering at him so expectantly. "Imagine if no one was there to help you the other night, mi vida - what could have happened to you..."
You needed to accept this. The way you accepted Marc's sobriety journey or Steven applying to university. This was who Jake was and this was his choice. The stolen moments in his arms - the slight relief of the tension between you just now had granted you at least this clarity.
"I understand," you breathed, grateful that he at least tried to explain himself. "Just...be careful...okay?"
"Claro," he nodded, heading toward the front door.
"You don't use the window?" You teased, following after him, to sweetly see him off, rather than plead with him further.
Turning back, he jingled his keys in front of you with an amused smirk. "Marc gave me a key."
"Wow," you chuckled, impressed. "Be careful," you repeated. "I-I'll wait for you.
"No, mi amor." Jake shook his head, grasping your elbow the way he was prone to do. "Go to sleep. You have your shift tomorrow--"
"Okay," you conceded, feeling a secret thrill that he seemed to know your schedule. The warmth of possibility bloomed in your chest, making it easier for you to agree instead of firing back.
Seeming satisfied with your answer, he finally left.
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You did wait.
You sat in Steven's favorite reading chair, which was conveniently located close to the front door.
You listened to the podcast again. Did a puzzle. Read for a bit. Drank another cup of coffee. Splashed your face with cold water. Five times.
But eventually, you fell asleep.
And that's where Jake found you a few hours later, when he entered through the front door (for a change).
Curled up in a ball, with your hands tucked cutely into the sleeves of Marc's hoodie, Jake just stared down at you for a moment. Tempted to leave you there to rest, he found he couldn't resist scooping you into his arms and carrying you to bed.
You barely roused as he lay you down gently and covered you with a blanket. Quickly changing out of his work clothes, he washed up before joining you.
After what happened between the two of you earlier, he was more tempted than ever to touch you somehow - to pull you close. But the body had already lost enough sleep tonight. Steven was going to be so tired for class in the morning.
He couldn't take anymore time away from them. Or you. That wasn't his purpose.
Feeling exhaustion pulling at the corners of his mind, he decided it was for the best - to give himself over to it, like always. You would have your fiancé in a few hours.
Then your alarm went off.
You woke up immediately, digging into the pocket of your hoodie to silence the intrusive noise. That's when you noticed your fiancé in bed with you.
"Sorry! I'm so sorry." Sitting up, your eyebrows gathered in confusion as you tried to figure out...
"What are you doing?" Jake sat up as well, his deep voice affirming that it was still him - that he had yet to fall asleep.
"I'm sorry," you repeated, rubbing your eyes. "I tried to stay awake, but - well, I set my alarm just in case."
"Just in case what? You have to be at the hospital in a few hours, mi vida."
"I know...and I'm not trying to bother you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Softly sighing, you set your phone on the bedside table. "And I didn't know when I would see you again."
Shaking his head, Jake eased back onto his pillow. "That's how it's supposed to be. You have work. Steven has class. The rest of the time is Marc's. I can't take anything else from him."
It took you a minute to process everything Jake said.
"What?" You responded, the implications of what he'd just voiced astounding you. "You want Steven and me to get some rest - I get that. But what exactly are you taking from Marc?"
Lying down, you turned on your side to face Jake, who was staring up at the ceiling.
"Everything. His life. Time. And now you too? I can't," he exhaled shakily. "We can't. It's better the way it was."
Oh, game on.
"Better for whom? For you? Jake...I told you that the reason I stayed up and waited for you earlier was for two things - " You sat back up determinedly and counted the reasons off on your fingers. "One - to ask how you were doing - which I still haven't had a chance to do, and two - to tell you that if you don't want to ever talk to me, or see me, or be in my life, then to please just tell me."
"It's not what I want, mi corazón - it's what has to be - what always has been," Jake said insistently, sitting up in bed beside you, gesturing with his hands. "You don't understand how it works with us - how things have to be.
"Everything I do is to protect us - all of us, because Marc can't live without Steven. And he definitely can't live without you. ¿Entiendes?"
Raking his hands through his hair, he sighed in frustration. "I already fucked up, that night, in the alley, and then he started drinking again, and you were fighting, and it's because of me. I'm only supposed to make things better, not worse.
"And now, tonight, I shouldn't have done what I did, before. You-you don't belong to me." His chest heaved as he shook his head.
"I don't belong to anyone, Jake." Your voice was softer now, the ache in your heart prompting you to reach for his shoulder. "I choose to be with Marc, every day. And Steven."
Inching closer, you traced over his neck to cup his cheek, feeling his jaw clench under your fingertips. "I chose to wait up for you. I want to wait up for you, and to know you."
He physically withdrew from you then, turning his head away from your touch. And that hurt. Still...you couldn't force him to want to know you, despite how confused that intense, delicious kiss had left you.
Reaching for Jake's hand, you gently traced your fingers over his knuckles - only briefly, before pulling away, giving him the space he clearly wanted.
"Jake...all this must be so hard for you to bear. I can't even imagine. But you don't have to do everything all by yourself." Your lip trembled as you quickly started to realize this conversation was ending. You were both exhausted, and Jake was used to sleeping, or another alter fronting, by this point.
In one last bold attempt, you darted over to kiss the soft fabric over his shoulder.
"Remember that you have a family. And in families, you don't just do jobs, you matter." Lying down on your pillow, you felt warm tears drip down your face, but you tried to keep your voice from shaking. This was about him, not you. "You matter to me, Jake. Even if you can't love me. It's okay - I just want you to know you're not taking anything away from anyone. You only add more."
Jake could hear the sweet sound of your voice and his skin burned from your touch, but a void of impossibility engulfed him. He was so tired. It was so much work to operate in a way that contradicted his entire existence. It was easier to slip away, and before he could even think that he should respond to you...
Steven breathed your name in the dark.
Quickly turning your back to him, tears flooded your eyes. Biting your lip hard to keep your cries to yourself, you attempted to pretend to be asleep. Jake was right that both you and Steven needed some rest.
Your plan worked. Sleepily rolling over, Steven's face found your neck and he latched onto you in typical Koala Steven style. Thankfully he was too exhausted to feel you shudder in his embrace.
Finding comfort in your fiancé's tender, strong arms, you began to calm down. But after everything tonight, your mind raced as you re-evaluated your approach to Jake. Apparently you had done every single thing wrong. He was abundantly clear on his role in the system and what he wanted - or, in this case - didn't want from you.
Why were you fighting him so hard?
After a few minutes of sweet torment, you climbed back out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Shutting the door quietly, you allowed your tears to flow a little more freely, easing down to the floor with your back against the door. Burying your face in your hands, you quietly sobbed, drenching the sleeves of Marc's hoodie.
It wasn't like you to cry very often, or to even operate at the whims of such a wild range of emotions. But as your soft gasps settled, and you leaned over on the bathroom floor, completely drained, you realized something.
If there was anything in this world you wanted, it was for Marc to feel accepted and loved - every single part of him. That, of course, meant Steven, but now it meant Jake too. If Jake didn't want your love, you would have to accept that, but the fact that he seemed to think he didn't even have the right to exist outside his protective role - to ever talk or interact with who he called family, including his alters - it killed you.
That was the last thing you remembered before you passed out asleep on the bathroom floor.
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Coming up: Marc finds you on the bathroom floor and freaks right the hell out. Will you see Jake again anytime soon?
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thedovesaredying · 4 months ago
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Reverse Fae AU | Fae!Reader x Nikto
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Once again I have been tempted into the fae wilds again by the dear @ghouljams and have another piece for your enjoyment! No smut just yet, but it'll be in the next part I post. This fic is just a bit of a "how reader gets her man" explaination.
Putting Nikto through The Horrors TM. because if no one else will then I guess it has to be me.
Y'all might be able to tell SCP-1128 is one of my faves, so I drew a bit of inspiration from there. Unedited as always baby!
Previous | Next
He’s made a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake.  
A voice hums so softly from the bathroom, echoes bouncing against the tiles to create a strange, hypnotic symphony. The sound is so gentle, luring his body into a false sense of security, muscles growing lax despite the thundering of his heart against his chest. His brain is confused, knowing there’s something wrong, but unable to feel the fear he should be trembling with.  
It calls his name in a saccharine tone, dripping with false sweetness. Not even Nikto, but his real name, the one he’s hidden for so long. Despite covering his ears and gritting his teeth against the sound, he can still hear it deep within his mind. He can almost feel the way fingers comb through his thoughts, plucking at his already frail restraint.  
“Отвяжись!” He snaps, nails digging into his own scalp as if he could tear the creature’s influence from his brain with his own two hands.  
“Just open the door,” that damn voice coos, undercut by the sound of claws dragging down the edge of the doorframe. “You called me here, silly human,” the little giggle it makes causes his stomach to flip and a fluttering sensation to develop rather rapidly, “why are you hiding from me?”  
He wants to snarl back that it was a mistake, but you’ve started humming that strange song again, and his entire body has begun to feel as if it’s weighed down by lead. The only sound he can make is a rather pathetic groan, his eyes drooping with a sudden wave of exhaustion.  
He never should have accepted that “gift” from a fae, his babushka would absolutely have his head if she were still around. She’d told him tales, as all grandmothers tend to do, many of them revolving around the trickery and cruelty of the fae. They never do something or give something without expecting something in return.  
It had given him the little vial of water, pressing it into his gloved hands with a grin still dripping blood stolen from the body of one of his allies. “Keep it,” the monster whispers, tickling his ears with her breath despite the many layers of clothing between them, “keep it on your body, at all times.” Her fingers, tipped with dangerously sharp nails gently trail down the front of his body armour, voice purring in a way that sends shivers down his spine.  
He knew better than to refuse, lest it be considered a slight against the creature, and took the little glass jar of water, tucking it into his shirt and watching as the fae disappears back into the lake with a satisfied grin.  
The first time his little gift was used was entirely by accident. A simple infiltration mission where Nikto and his fellow KorTac operators were supposed to be gathering intel before returning to exfil.  
Perhaps it’s because of how simple the mission had been that caused him to grow sloppy. His mind was elsewhere, and that was something the enemy seemed to have noticed and were quick to capitalise on. He would be a little embarrassed if it weren’t for how the rest of the scenario had played out.  
A young enemy soldier – a child really, too young to have more than a few patchy hairs growing on his face – he’d been cocky enough (or perhaps desperate enough) to think he could get the jump on him. A shame, as the boy might have had potential had he not made the mistake of trying to fight the wrong mercenary.  
When he turns a blind corner, the boy was ready for him, choosing to lunge forward, combat knife poised to strike at the Russian’s throat. Nikto is fast enough to deflect the blade with the armoured back of his arm but is forced to release his grip on his rifle in order to do so.  
A kick to the enemy’s stomach has the boy stumbling backward, but before Nikto can continue, a second opponent joins the scuffle. The other man tries to tackle him, but it only opens them up to the headlock Nikto grapples them into.  
A rough jerk of his own knife against the enemy’s throat has arteries and veins shredding under his hand and a spray of blood bursting forth in all directions. He throws the flailing body to the floor, ignoring the way the man weakly grasps at his throat, a pool of crimson growing with every passing moment.  
The younger soldier reaches for him again, ignoring their fallen comrade as they try again to reach for Nikto with one hand and swipe at him with their other one. He dodges the slash once again but isn’t fast enough to evade the man completely. The boy’s fingers wrap around the thin twine keeping the tiny jar of water around his neck.  
The fabric is thin enough that his backward momentum easily snaps it, the vial falling away the moment the enemy tosses it aside. It smashes into the ground, thin glass splintering apart and the clear liquid inside dripping into the large pool of blood.  
He’s upset, if only because it’s the only proof he has of the strange encounter several months ago. No one would ever believe him if he spoke of it and on some days, he too doubts his own memories. Yet there lay the proof, proof that he’d somehow managed to please the fae creature enough for it to offer him a gift in return.  
Wish a snarl, he lands a devastating kick to the boy’s stomach, sending the lad stumbling backwards. As he steps back to create more rooms for himself, he’s cautious to move around the bloody puddle. Though his eyes remain trained on the boy – now righting himself and refilling his lungs with the air that Nikto’s strike had stolen from him – he can’t help but to glance at the blood.  
His eyes are drawn to it like magnets, his hair standing on end as something sends a shiver down his spine. Darkness seems to swirl within the ruby pool, deepening its colour until it’s almost black. Looking away from it feels as foolish as turning his back to a wild animal, but he must keep focus on the more present danger. His curiosities can be indulged later.  
The boy has his dagger raised and poised to strike at the first sign of weakness, taking a single step closer. His foot meets the puddle and, before he even has the chance to so much as scream, his body is falling as though the floor below him has suddenly vanished. The soldier’s arms grab at the ground next to the blood, only just stopping him from being completely submerged.  
He watches the boy splutter, arms flailing and water sloshing all over the floor. The larger the puddle grows from his rapid movements, the more the floor seems to disappear. The other soldier struggles to stay afloat, rapidly losing more ground the more he battles against the seemingly never-ending liquid.  
Nikto watches, unable to do much more than openly stare, the other man is suddenly torn from above the water. The soldier can only let out the beginnings of a scream, but it’s immediately muffled by the sound of the water splashing in his wake. It disturbs the corpse of the other deceased soldier, and he watches as it too slips below the surface.  
With the other soldier no longer disturbing the pool’s surface, the puddle has finally stopped its terrifying expansion. But he doesn’t have the time to relax, as a large fin cuts through the water, reminiscent of a shark’s dorsal fin in the way it so seamlessly glides along without causing so much as a ripple.  
A soft song floats up from the abyss, alien and terrifying, yet somehow one of the most alluring sounds he’s ever heard. There’s an urge that builds within him, a desperate need to get closer to the water. He can’t help it, almost as though his body is moving while his mind is somewhere else.  
He hears rather than feels it when he falls to his knees, reaching out and dipping his hands into the pool. There’s a voice somewhere in the back of his head screaming, brain trying to trigger every fight or flight response in the hopes of something getting through to his body that seems to have gone rogue.  
His arms don’t stop, even as his gloves begin to fill with water, not until he feels something brush against the tips of his fingers. He wants to pull away, to tear himself back from whatever creature just pulled the other soldier to his death. But he holds still, hands held outstretched.  
He feels as something press up against his palm, before suddenly, it’s as though a switch is flipped in his brain and all bodily control has returned to him. With a jerk, he throws himself away from the pool, shoving himself away from the water.  
As the water settles, the room falls into silence. A moment later, someone rounds the corner, guns raised and sweeping the room. It’s his colleagues, all staring at him as though he’s lost him mind.  
“Are you broken, sir?” One of them asks.  
He frowns for a second, before realising that his gloves which were damp with water, are now stained with a deep red, a pungent metallic scent burning his nose even through his mask. Perhaps his men aren’t completely foolish, the blood stains do look rather grizzly in hindsight.  
“нет,” he waves them off, pushing back to his feet as he tries to calm his still racing heart. A single glance at the puddle reveals it is once again just that, a mere puddle of blood and nothing more. When he looks down to what was placed into his hand, he’s met with a vial of crystal-clear water, identical to his previous one.  
If he had been smart, he would have thrown the water away and run, but something compelled him to keep it close. Perhaps if he had, then he wouldn’t be in this situation now.  
Her voice had whispered to him, encouraging him to pour a drop of the water into a full bath. It pulled at his curiosity, digging its claws into his thoughts and pushing him to do something he already knew was foolish.  
As the fae starts calling for him again, he digs his hands into his hair, praying that the pain will distract him from the haunting song that creeps through the crack in the door. He closes his eyes, but when they open- He's stood inside the bathroom again, his muscles locked up and completely frozen.  
He can feel claws sliding up the back of his shirt, no longer protected by his usual body armour. The sensation sends goosebumps rising in the wake of each claw, climbing up and up and up, until finally reaching the back of his neck. Fingers shifting to curl around his throat, holding him in place with a grip like steel.  
Despite trying with every shred of strength to try and pull away, body shaking from the exertion, he’s still unable to move. He can’t even widen his eyes as another hand grabs at his face, pressing against his scarred cheeks until his mouth is forced open. A single, clawed finger slides between his lips, pressing down on his tongue hard, until a tiny bead of blood pools beneath its tip.  
He chokes when water begins to rush from the creature’s hand and directly into his mouth, but rather than the normally cool, soothing sensation that should have met him, it burns more like acid. It hits the tiny wound in his mouth, mixing with his own blood and burning through his entire body.  
He can’t tell how long it lasts for, not with the way his brain begins to fog over. The thoughts slowly drift away, and he can’t quite recall why he should care so much about that. Without the fear he can at least appreciate the cool hands that drop from his face and throat, then down to his chest, only the thin fabric of a sleep shirt separating the hands from his burning skin.  
“That feels better now, doesn’t it?” that soft voice coos, lips brushing over his pulse point, followed by the gentle scraping of teeth.  
He can only hum in agreement, eyes drooping as his head slowly drops down slightly. He feels a forehead press against his own, looking up and into the pools of liquid black staring back at him. “да,” he breathes, enjoying the unfamiliar sensation of another person’s hands roaming his body.  
“Let’s get you home then, yes?” He nods against her, ignoring the way his stomach twists nervously when the fae only grins.  
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darylbae · 5 months ago
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I LOVE YOUR DARYL ONESHOTSSS AAHHHHH
i wanna request another vampire Daryl x fem reader pretty pleaseee
I would write this myself but I do not trust my writing skills LOL. A basic summary would be a lone reader who kinda just travels around, and one night when seeking shelter from a thunderstorm she finds this guy named Daryl, barely alive, and nurses him back to health (as much as she can by feeding him rabbit and meat barely cooked per his request), before realizing that Daryl is a vampire but couldn't really care less ("There's dead people walking around and you think a guy sucking blood and being deathly allergic to garlic will astonish me?").
Maybe for some backstory the reader is looking for their dad (or something like that) who got taken by raiders, so she's traveling around trying to find him and killing anyone who gets in her way, so by the end Daryl and the reader make a deal that Daryl will help her, and she just has to provide the corpses.
Ofc, don't feel obligated to write this, I'm sure you get so many requests anyway 😭😭 Again, love your fics!
sweet thing — daryl dixon
in which you meet you make a deal with vamp!daryl, hoping to benefit each other
note: i hope this is what you wanted anon, and u are too kind! i am so grateful for every lovely comment i get, it really keeps me motivated to write.
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The rain was pricking at your cold skin, eyes almost closed to keep the droplets from invading your sight, and there wasn't an end in sight. You had to find him. Your dad, the only familiar sight left in this damned world, was gone. You'd sat around a fire one night, sharing a can of beans, giggling about another guess the song game you'd been playing. Then you'd woken up, and he was gone. You knew he'd been taken, it wasn't hard to realize, his stuff still surrounded you as you cried into his jacket that morning. There had been raiders on your trail for a while, it was actually a group you'd split away from a while ago. Looking to drag you back in. Why hadn't they taken you too? You wondered every day since, all thoughts leading to you feeling too useless to anyone. So now you wander, hoping to find a lead to get you back on track to finding your dad again. You'd spotted a metal panel propped between two trees, it had almost resembled a hut, and it seemed the only shelter for miles. It'll do for tonight.
You'd lost count of the days now, it all consisted of walking, stopping to eat and drink, kill walkers. Still in the same God forsaken woods that you lost your dad in. The raiders typically stayed in wooded areas, easier to conceal themselves, which was proving to be true. Leaning against the coarse bark of the tree beside you, you'd sighed deeply and readjusted the gun on your hip. Another stolen prize from the raiders which had helped you immensely in escaping. It was time to search for a place to stay. It had started raining again, however much worse than it had last time. Thunder was booming around you, the rain quick to soak your clothes and your hair becoming stuck to your skin. In the distance you could see a shed, or what looked like a small house. Your brain had squeezed onto the hope of shelter, picking up the pace as you broke free of the woods. It was, in fact, a small home. A bungalow of sorts, good enough for you for a few nights. It didn't seem occupied, but you were still cautious, so you'd equipped your blade and held it up as you breached the door. It was worn down, seemingly vacant since outbreak. But in the corner, by a fireplace, you had spotted a shadow. A moving shadow. You hadn't thought it through, you just rushed over to the person, in hopes it would have been your dad. It wasn't. But it was a man, who seemed to be on Death's door. Wheezing in and out, shivering as his coat laid over his body, ghastly pale. You'd thrown your bag off your shoulder, ripping it open to find your makeshift First Aid kit. "Hey, you still awake over there?" You asked, incredibly surprised at your confidence around a stranger. A wounded stranger. He grumbled, giving you enough confirmation to keep administering First Aid. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch."
Turns out he'd been stabbed, too weak to patch himself up. These were all just guesses, as he'd remained silent in the corner ever since you'd gotten here. However, he stayed. Even as you went out to find some dry firewood, after the rain had stopped, he was still sprawled out in the corner of the room. You'd started a fire, and sat comfortably in front of it as you let your food cook and clothes dry. "Do you have a name?" You asked, glancing over to the man. He met your eyes for one second, pulling them away from yours in the next. He remained quiet. "If we're going to inhabit the same home for a while then the least I expect is some information." You spoke, stabbing the bits of rabbit with a stick on your improvised grill made of wire and clothing hangers. "Daryl." He mumbled, taking the coat down from his face and sitting up. It was nice to see more of his face now, and strands of his hair stuck on his face. His voice was smoky, gruff, kinda hot. You hadn't thought about someone like that since before the world ended. It had just been you and your dad, except for the group of raiders you'd abandoned. You smiled into the fire, happy you were making progress. "Want some rabbit?" You offered, waving the end of the stick over at him with a cooked chunk of rabbit meat. He shook his head. "I'll find my own food." "Come on," you huffed, "eat some damn food. You need it if you want to heal." "I like it rare." "How rare?" You asked, ready to chuck some more on the grill. "Not touched the fire kinda rare." You grimaced, gesturing towards the cut up meat on the floor next to you. He leaned forward, wincing as he held his stitches, and stole a few pieces for himself. It didn't satisfy him like you probably would, but this was unbeknownst to you, he had to sit in the corner and control himself. You'd been nice enough to keep him alive, so he owed you that much. "So why do you eat raw meat? Won't you get sick from that?" You questioned, done with your food for the night and just using the fire for warmth. He shook his head. Guess that was too far. Silence lay heavily on the pair of you, Daryl too interested in a crack on the wall, and you watching the flames dance in front of you. It was you making all the conversation, so you had assumed that was it for the night. You'd climbed onto the couch, laying as comfortably as you could, and closing your eyes, hoping to have a dreamless night. "Ya won't believe me. You'll run." You heard, and you'd sat up, facing Daryl who was now sat up, arms resting on his knees with his head dipped down slightly. "Why?" You asked. "Why would I run?" Daryl paused. He didn't want to be alone again. As new as you were to his life, he liked company above all else. Even if you were pushy. "I prefer humans." "You're a cannibal?" You shivered, sat up properly now, ready to make a run for it. "NO." Daryl answered, "well, kinda." "Vampire?" You asked. Judging by his silence, you were right. And it shocked you how... normal you were about it. "Okay." You laid back down, clothes still damp and uncomfortable. But sleep was catching up quick. "Ya ain't gonna run?" He asked, and there was a hint of innocence you could hear. Like a child that had been walked out on one too many times. "No," you answered, still laid down but eyes open and looking at him, "the world has ended, the dead are alive, and you think a guy sucking blood and being deathly allergic to garlic will astonish me?" "Myth." You smiled, happy to close your eyes again. "You gonna suck my blood?" He wanted to, so bad. He wanted to taste that sweet blood pumping around that pretty body. "No. Don't wanna hurt ya." Your heart quickened, and you were embarrassed how much of an effect this stranger was having on you. You needed some action. Bad.
The fire was out when you'd woken up, and the man in the corner, Daryl, was gone. You lifted your head, noticing the coat that had once covered him, was now covering you. Your cheeks tinged pink at the sentiment, as you'd sat up fully now, still keeping the coat nicely snug around you. He hadn't left, surely? You'd made your way outside, the heavy thud of your boots alerting him of your presence, as you'd found him on the porch smoking. "So you can still smoke, huh?" You asked, sitting down next to him and observing his demeanor. Even the way he moved was hot. "Same as you are, just different diet." "Guess that answers my question of how you're in the sunlight." You giggled, and you could almost see a smirk threatening to show on his face. "Want your coat back?" "Nah," he croaked, mid-inhale, "looks better on ya." You couldn't quite believe your life had come to flirting with a vampire in the apocalypse. "Going somewhere?" He asked, and he was a lot more talkative than yesterday. You shook your head. "All I've done is wander the woods for God only knows how long, I plan on staying for a while." Daryl knew it was a topic for another night. So he stayed silent. "Gonna find some dinner. Stay inside." He instructed, standing up and stubbing the end of his smoke. You nodded your head at him, planning on making this home a bit more homely.
Daryl had been gone a while, and you'd cleaned up the place a bit. Making it look not-so-run-down. And you'd even found a book, to accompany you as you waited on dinner. He'd returned back after sunset, having been gone all day. And you were becoming ravenously hungry. "Took you a while." You commented, slamming the book closed and getting up to get the fire lit. "Yeah, sorry," he grumbled, "see ya kept ya'self busy." He looked around at the space you were sharing, seeing it didn't look nearly as bad as it did when he found it. You had only just looked up at him, seeing a sleeveless shirt and being more interested in that than the deer slung around his neck. His toned arms, patches of blood and debris from hunting all day, it was enough to drive you mad. "Hey," he clicked at you, and you felt shameful, "eyes are up here." He joked, and you smiled awkwardly at him. "Ready to eat?"
You'd eaten a good amount of meat, both of you now sharing the couch. Shoulders touching, thighs touching, your heart was beating loudly in your ears. "What's got ya out here?" He asked, his gruff voice sending goosebumps up your arms. But the question was something you didn't know if you were ready to share the answer to. But Daryl could help, he could get you closer to him. Finding your dad again was all that matters. "It's been me and my dad for the longest time. We'd met up with a group of raiders a while ago, who did things we just weren't okay with, so we up and left in the middle of the night." You sighed, heart aching for your dad and wherever he was. "They've been hunting us since. And we settled down one night, and when I woke up, he was gone. Taken. I've been trying to find him ever since." Daryl's hand found your thigh, and you almost jumped at the contact. "I'm sorry." He offered his condolences, and the feeling of his hand on your leg was starting to catch fire. "Not your fault, unless you were a raider." You turned to him, and he shook his head, that smirk appearing once more. "What's your plan next?" "I'm not sure, I just needed shelter for a few nights so I could conjure a plan, until I found you." You admitted, a sweet smile upon your lips and you looked at him. Friendships tended to form a lot faster in the apocalypse, but you weren't sure what this was. Daryl was silent for a moment. "You given up?" "No. Never." "Well let's look for him, together." He suggested. "I'll rip through that whole group if I have to." "You'd help me?" You asked in disbelief. "I like ya company," he confessed, like a dirty truth, "wanna keep ya around. Gotta help each other out." You were beaming on the inside, if this wasn't confirmation of a friendship, then you didn't know what was. "What do I do for you?" Daryl looked at you, your sweet, innocent features, eyes full of curiosity and hope. You'd seen things, but you were truly broken yet. "Help me find bodies, people, not worthy of life, and I'll help ya find ya dad." He demanded, but his voice was low. You found yourselves inching closer together, and Daryl's thumb delicately dragged over your cheekbone. "Sweet thing. I'll help ya."
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humanpurposes · 7 months ago
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I Have Always Been A Storm, Part 1
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Read the full chapter on AO3 // Main Masterlist
Aemond Targaryen x Floris Baratheon
In the year 128AC, Floris Baratheon weds Aemond Taragryen, a daughter and a son both driven to duty, now bound to each other when the realm is on the brink of war. Floris is enamoured by the Prince, but love is something she can only hope will bloom once her vows have been said before the eyes of the Seven- AU where Aemond and Floris marry before the Dance of the Dragons.
Warnings: 18+, smut, pregnancy, arranged marriage, canon divergence, angst, possibly quite a lot of angst, hurt/comfort
A/n: Surprise!! It's the Florismond fic no one asked for :) Planning on this being a 3 part mini series.
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“A terrible coincidence,” my husband says.
Head bowed, he kneels before me where I sit on the end of our bed. Thunder and lightning rage beyond the windows but he has brought the storm inside with him. The rainwater that has drenched his hair and his riding leathers soak through my nightgown. I keep my jaw tight and my teeth pressed together to stop myself from shivering.
He has discarded his gloves to hold my hands in his, leaving a trail of kisses and tears on my skin. He circles the pad of his thumb over my fingertips, over the callouses left by my years of devotion to the harp. His hands are calloused too, from his sword, from the reins on Vhagar’s saddle.
He lifts his chin to look at me. I scarcely recognise him. My husband is a proud young man, always poised, never loud, often cold and stoic, gentle around the right people, his mother, his sister, me.
His single eye is glistening and glassy, the blue of his iris vibrant despite his distress. His breaths are laboured, his lips parted. I see nothing but hopelessness in him, but even like this, I wonder if the gods will ever manage to create a person quite so beautiful as Aemond Targaryen.
I slip a hand out of his grasp and, as gently as I can, pull on the eyepatch that covers the left side of his face. He lets me do it, as he has done many times before. A burst of lighting catches in the uneven edges of his sapphire eye. The twisted flesh that frames it is red, I wonder if it is hurting him.
I asked him once, why he was so reluctant to display this part of himself, why he wanted to hide it from me when we were first married.
His reply was always that he did not wish to frighten me.
What reason would I have to fear a scar? I’ve seen plenty of blood in my life, hunts, tourneys, accidents in the training yard. I see my own blood every moon. How could I fear my own husband?
He’s stuttering, sobbing, choking on his words. “I didn’t– I– I tried to stop her– but I was so– I just wanted him to…”
Heat rises behind my eyes. My skin is cold, my limbs frozen, but the shock is starting to wear off. I cannot listen to any more or I will surely break. 
I hush him, curling my whole body over his head. If he sees my face he will think I fear him, he will think I am horrified by him. I run a hand over his damp hair and he rests his face against the swell of my stomach.
Before he left, only a matter of days ago, after he had kissed my lips sore and stolen all the air from my lungs, he had come down to his knees to kiss my belly. By Maester Orwlye’s estimation, I only have a month left of my term. By tradition, I should be in confinement, but Aemond had ordered against it. He could not bear the thought of being apart from me, and I him. He has his own books and correspondences with Maesters across the continent. In Dorne, expectant mothers are encouraged to exercise as much as they can, to breathe fresh air and feel the sun on their skin. This would be best for our child, Aemond decided, rather than keeping me a dark bedchamber with only midwives and septas for company. 
Queen Alicent had said from the start that Aemond would make for a devoted husband, that he has always been a man of duty.
An awful sense of dread runs through my blood.
I should be glad that he has returned to me, and I am, I am .
“I wanted the boy to fear me. I did not imagine that I might…”
What can I say to him? What can I do to ease his suffering when I cannot stand the feeling of his body so close to mine? 
I am bound to him, through vows, through witnesses. I have given him my body and he has given me his. I carry his blood in my womb, my child as much as it is his. Most irreversibly of all, my heart is twined with his. I love him, and yet...
When he places a palm against my stomach, over the space where our babe grows, all I can think is that this is the hand of a kinslayer. Whatever fate the gods have for him now is my fate also. If he has cursed himself, then I too am cursed.
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Full chapter on AO3
Tags (commented to be added)
Series taglist:
General taglist: @randomdragonfires @theoneeyedprince @targaryenrealnessdarling @jamespotterismydaddy @tsujifreya @blackswxnn
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eupheme · 1 year ago
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— room for two
agent ortega x f!reader
rated e - 3k
tags: pwp/stagecoach sex, reference to sexual harassment, implied mutual pining, flirting, teasing, semi-public fingering, shared tasting, dirty talk
a/n: as a rdr2 enthusiast and with the amount of stagecoach fics I’ve read - as soon as I saw one in the pilot I was like 👀💖
You find your ride back to Brimstone is spent with some very unexpected but very welcome company.
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He had made room for himself in your thoughts before, but never quite like this.
Close enough to touch, in the cramped stagecoach.
Just a few moments ago, opting for the smaller of the two had seemed appealing - the cheaper cost, the journey back quicker with only two horses instead of four.
Never thinking you’d be sharing the space.
And now - it feels as if your knees would brush, if you uncrossed your legs. Already trapped within his spread ones.
The morning had been spent two towns over. That carriage shared with other girls, all with their own tasks for Madame. An envelope sealed with bright red wax clutched between fingers as you had clambered out at the first stop - as they had continued on to the next town.
A little bit of stolen time amongst the shops, after your letter had been delivered. The coins slipped to you in thanks spent on something sweet to eat, a new ribbon for the straw hat you had been repairing at home.
The sun creeping past noon, before you had found a carriage to take back. Just managing to settle inside, when you had heard a friendly voice calling from outside.
A hand catching the edge of the door, as the driver had moved to shut it.
“This coach heading to Brimstone?”
The Agent, with his sharp clothes and his dark eyes. You’ve seen him in the Emerald Palace, slipping upstairs to meet with Madame Hume.
The curiosity had sparked even then - unable to keep your eyes off him. Heat rising to your cheeks at the wink sent your way, the caught smile as he followed behind his partner.
His appearance becoming more common. In the past weeks. A little jolt in your stomach when you saw the two of them, standing out amongst the regulars.
Those dark eyes always seeming to find yours, for just a brief moment. But one that lasts, lingering long after he’s gone.
It had been enough to just think about him.
Wishing for another life - one where you weren’t felt up by strangers while serving drinks. For one where you were whisked away by him, instead.
A much different kind of stranger.
There was a fluidity in the way that Agent Ortega moved - folding himself inside the carriage, an easy smile shot your way. Bowler hat discarded, set down on the bit of seat next to him, as he settled in.
“You don’t mind, do you darlin’? This ride is on me.”
And you hadn’t. Not at all.
Now - your eyes drift, across the gray shades of his suit. The sharp vest, the golden chain of his pocket watch where it tucks into a pocket. Everything nearly in place except for the buttons popped at his collar - exposing that extra inch of his throat.
A silver badge glinting against his chest, in the afternoon sun.
With an effort, you tear your eyes away.
But you can still feel the weight of his own exploration. His gaze as warm as the sun that peeks in through the opened windows, settling across you skin.
“Never seen you outside the Palace,” Ortega comments, breaking the silence as the driver cracks the reins. A creak of the carriage as the horses follow - taking you down the main road.
The implication that he’s noticed you at all is not lost - your attention quickly drawn back. Your own smile shy, as his grows wider - pretty curve of his lips.
“Nothing interesting, I’m afraid. Just runnin’ errands, sir.” You shrug, intentionally vague - missing the way his eyes drop to your mouth at the word. The little shift in his seat as you glance out the window, as a rider on horseback thunders by.
“Miss Hume keep you busy?”
It’s an understatement. Running the Emerald Palace was hard work - and combined with a powerful woman and her short temper meant there was rarely a moment to breathe.
Your face must show your answer because he laughs - an arm slinging across the back of the seat, the movement bumping his knee against yours.
“She’s keepin’ us busy, too.” He confides, “Been runnin’ all across New Mexico. But I think we finally found what she’s lookin’ for-”
Agent Ortega catches himself then, his smile apologetic as his hands raise, “Sorry, shouldn’t divulge any more.”
“I understand.” You smile.
Everything behind doors with Madame Hume was hushed - half-spoken whispers and sealed letters, drowned out by the piano downstairs. The only quiet thing about her business.
But you had found yourself leaning forward at his confession - drawn in by him, the secret of the detective’s recent and sudden appearance.
There’s a jolt then - the wobble of the left wheel as it rattles against a deep divot that cracks the dirt road. The speed of the stagecoach has the carriage lurching, a wheel lifting as it crosses the narrow gap.
A little yelp rips from your throat, as you lose your balance. Already off-kilter, drawn in by the almost-reveal of his secret.
Hands catch on your hips as you tip forward. A swift tug as he spares you from slipping into that narrow gap between his knees, the force behind his pull bringing you into his lap.
Chivalrous, in his intent.
A clucking tongue for the driver - a glare as if the uneven road was their fault, as your fingers bite into his shoulders. Wrinkling the fine fabric as you steady yourself.
Acutely aware of the strong arm that curls around your waist. The pull of your cotton skirt where the layers bunch up around your knees - thighs spread wide where you kneel in his lap.
The warm scent of his aftershave, curling over your senses with how close you now are.
“You alright?” There’s concern in his tone, the words stringing together with his worry. His grip still firm, as you blink down at him.
It takes another second - him repeating his question more slowly, with the cock of an eyebrow - before you get your bearings.
“I am.” Your head ducks, “Thank you.”
But you find, that you don’t move.
And neither does he.
His lips part, with a slight upward tilt of his head - a movement that you just begin to mirror, without thought.
Before there’s another uneven rattle - hitting the carriage even more strongly than before - and you find yourself clinging to him, again. Flattened against him, as his face buries in the bare curve of your shoulder.
Your hands ghost across his chest, sliding over the buttons of his vest. Leaning back as heat creeps across the back of your neck, up to your cheeks.
“‘m sorry-” You’re murmuring, the mortification from before, now fully catching up. “So sorry-”
Just now realizing the position that you’re in - how incredibly inappropriate it is, with your knees pressing into his ribs.
With his breath ghosting across your shoulder, so close to the soft curve of your breast.
It has you leaning back - though the hands at your waist tighten, for the briefest of moments.
“No need to apologize, sweetheart.” There’s none of the worry in his expression. The part of his lips as you shift - a short, inhaled breath, “‘s not every day I get a beautiful girl in my lap.”
That has you freezing.
Wide eyes blinking down at the grin that pulls across his face, tugging up one side.
The words - softly breathed out, “You think I’m… beautiful?”
His eyes drag down like they do before - like they’ve done. Slower this time, with the knead of his fingers against the fabric of your dress.
“Thought I made that obvious.”
This time when his head tilts - you meet him.
The press of his mouth against yours. A fluttering in your chest as the soft sound of his groan, as his hands slide around to your back.
One dropping against the curve of your ass, nudging you forward. The slightest inhale of breath before you’re leaning into him, fingers sliding into the dark hair that curls at the nape of his neck.
Your own moan swallowed, as his tongue brushes your lip, licks inside your mouth. The upward tilt of his hips, an unconscious grind of his hips against the layers of your skirt.
A moment as you tug at them - a need to get closer. His hushed “yes” when you settle, when you can feel the stiffening curve against you.
Hands wandering, tugging at the dark tie around his throat, teasing at the peek of skin where the button strains at his chest.
His own tracing up near your ribs, spanning beneath your breasts. Warm through the thin layers of your bodice, and with the next breath - you’re pulling his palm higher.
Ortega groans a curse, sharp on his tongue as he cups your breast, the tips of his fingers brushing against bare skin.
There’s a building heat inside your chest, your tummy. You’ve been touched before, but not like this. Never with such want. Never so openly.
That second thought is what pulls you out - an unconscious glance from over your shoulder. Peeking out at the stretch of road behind you, the trailing path of kicked-up dust.
“Where did you go?” He coaxes - his voice low, strained.
Eyes blown wide, those pretty lips parted again. Your smile shy and embarrassed, your lower lip caught between your teeth.
“I just…” You squirm, “I haven’t done this before.”
His hand drops from you, the dazed look disappearing from his eyes, “We don’t have to, pretty girl. I didn’t know-”
A little laugh then, as you realized - drawing his hand back.
“No.” You smile, “I’ve, um… I just mean here. The stagecoach, it’s so open-”
With the three windows and the driver above. Soft noises already pulled so easily from you - you’re sure if things went any further, there would be no mistaking what was happening inside.
The frown transforms into a knowing smile. Relief lacing his words as his thumb teases against your nipple, the tight pucker of fabric that betrays your need.
A second, before he’s coaxing you off of him. Your disappointment mounting, before he spins you around - only to pull you back against him again.
Your ass snug against his front, with the layers of your dress settling around you. His nose ghosting along the column of your throat, mouth pressing a kiss against your skin.
“How is this, then?” He asks, his voice low in your ear, “I’ll take care of you, and you can keep an eye on the road. See anyone, and I’ll stop.”
A hand flattens across your stomach, lips on the back of your neck. Sending your skin prickling as he inhales, a soft groan bitten back between teeth.
“You’ll… you’ll-” You’re distracted by the sweep of his fingers, the slow rock of his hips. The thudding of your pulse between your thighs, an ache that has them pressing together.
“I’ll make you feel good, honey.” He sighs, “Anythin’ you want.”
It’s tempting. The desire that pools low in your belly. Your thoughts running wild - wondering just what he had in store. What he will give you.
The thought is enough to have you nodding, settling more comfortably in his grip. Perched on his strong thighs, your breath hitching as he starts at your shoulder.
A kiss pressed against the skin, as he works his way up the curve of your neck. A hushed groan as the rock of the carriage grinds him against your ass, his own need evident.
The slow drag of his hand as it rises from your stomach, spanning the space beneath your breasts as his head hooks over your shoulder.
“Christ. Just look at you, darlin’-“
The peek of your breasts above the low neckline. Fingers lifting to play with the pale, pretty ruffles that line the edge - the tip of one stroking against the tight bud just beneath.
Another jostle of the carriage coaxes the dress down further. His thumb slipping up, and then hooking beneath.
Ortega’s groan is soft in your ear. Your hips rocking against his, with the slow sweep of his touch.
“This okay, darlin’?” He husks, before his mouth presses against your neck, “If it isn’t, I’ll get out and walk. Don’t you worry.”
“S’okay.” You sigh, arching into him, “Feels so good-”
With your words, he’s tugging the hem down. Baring you as you send the briefest glance out the back of the coach - but there’s only the sun and sky above you, the rising streaks of red and orange layered in the rocks of the canyon around.
He teases you. A peek of his tongue as it swipes the pad of his thumb - smearing the slick tip across the tight bud, before he’s pinching it.
Your moan is a high, bitten-off sound before you’re catching it. Desperate for more, as you begin to move with him. Meeting the slow rhythm of his hips, your fingers fisting in your dress.
Before you’re catching his hand, dragging it down. Letting him cup you over the layers, where the low ache has settled, simmering.
“Please-” You whine, needing more.
He gives it to you, as he promised he would. Gathering up the layers of your dress, letting them pool around your waist - spreading out the fabric to cover you.
Your bare thighs pressed against his, and it’s now that you can truly feel him. That hard, swollen curve that strains against the fabric. Adjusted to press snugly against your core - an urge rising to touch him yourself, but he’s catching your hand before it wanders far.
“You first, honey.” His jaw grits, “Said I would, and I’m a man of my word.”
Fingers trace over your knee, up over the bare skin of your thigh. Cupping you again - like before. A wide palm against the thin fabric, another needy sound ripped from your throat, that he hushes through a grin.
Before he’s teasing at the waistband of your drawers, then dipping under. Meeting warm, soaked flesh, his own sound unrestrained as your thighs press together.
“Fuck.” His fingers trace your seam, splitting as they part you. Sliding back up until the tip is pressing at a spot that makes your hips jolt. The same tender place that you’ve only found at night, when you’re alone.
“So fucking wet, sweetheart. All for me, isn’t that right?”
Your answering hum is high, as he begins to circle. Turning into a sharp gasp before his hand is covering your mouth, muffling the sound.
“Hush, honey.” He coos, “Don’t want the driver to hear you, now.”
Somehow - the thought is thrilling, now. The thought of an errant moan overheard, the peek of a passer-by seeing the flash of your skin, his mouth at your neck.
But you clamp your teeth together, as his hand drops to curving over your breast again. Holding you to firmly against his chest, the jerk of your hips now stilted as you chase his touch.
The soft sounds caught in your throat, as each breath grows shorter. His soft hums at each one you make, as he teases at your opening.
The tip of a finger pressing inside, before he’s dragging the soaked pad up, pressing just a little harder, a little faster.
“Bet you taste so fucking good. Wish I was between those pretty thighs right now.” He growls in your ear - a thrill at his words, even if you don’t quite understand them.
Clarity coming a moment later, as his fingers slide from you. Shining and slick with you, that heat rising to your cheeks again at the filthy sight.
A little gasp of surprise as he slips them between his lips. Shocked by the groan he makes, as his tongue swirls over them to suck them clean. His other hand catching at your jaw, coaxing you to him.
You can taste yourself on his tongue, when your mouths meet. A sweet tang that wasn’t there before, melting against the heat of his tongue as it strokes against yours.
“Just knew it.” He grits out, before they’re slipping between your thighs again, “Need to get you in my bed, darlin’. Let you be as loud as you want-”
It feels like there’s a spark that’s a bright as the sun, burning inside you. Shining with the wet press of his fingers, those tight circles placed with such precision that it makes your head spin.
Fueled by the thought of getting him alone. Wanting to know more about how he’d taste you, fill you. Wanting to strip away those layers, to find the man beneath the badge.
It’s enough that you’re there, on the edge of something that feels like more than you’ve ever known. The urge to leap rising, knowing that he’s right there with you.
Ortega’s name soft on your lips, breaking as you try to muffle it. His answering hum, low and rough as he keeps the same swirling touch.
The path to that edge rushing towards you, overwhelming as your fingernails sink into the meat of his forearm. The stretch of a finger as it sinks inside you, opening you up.
His hushed murmurs, asking if you’d take him here. How good you’d feel, wrapped around his cock - the one that presses against you with each lift of his hips.
Your whining assent. That you would, that you want him to, want him-
Broken off as the heel of his hand rocks against your clit. The feeling heightened with his finger buried in you, curling and stroking. A second joining, each thrust wet as he mimics his thoughts - finding a rhythm that has you clenching down hard around him.
“That’s it, cariño.” He’s groaning, watching the heave of your chest, the way his fingers move beneath the dress, “Christ, I can feel how much you need this. Let go for me-”
It doesn’t take much more. His touch, his words, rip through you. The thud of the hoofbeats, the creak of the wagon fading out to nothing. A white noise as your head tips back, as your vision blurs.
A ragged sound in your throat muffled as he brings his mouth to your again - the sound of the stagecoach drowning out the wet pound of his fingers as you pulse around him.
The rippling pleasure washing over you, wave after wave. Your thoughts hazy as his hand spans your jaw, keeping you close until you come back down. Leaving you’re draped against him - utterly boneless.
Breathless, until a whistle breaks into your afterglow.
Mechanical - not a person, but the train that you’ve come to know well. The one just outside Brimstone, it’s departure welcoming of your arrival.
The bright glow of your pleasure dims, as you gasp - forgetting that you were supposed to be keeping watch.
“‘s okay, sweetheart.” Ortega coaxes, his fingers still buried in you, “Been watchin’ for you, pretty girl. No one’s lookin’ at you but me.”
There’s ache as he pulls from you, leaving you empty. Helping you put yourself back together - your fingers curling around his as he helps you back to your seat.
The same hand coming to cup himself a few minutes later - a lewd adjustment as the carriage comes to a stop, just outside the Palace.
You shoot him a pained expression, wanting more time with him. To return the favor - all while knowing you’re both expected at the Palace. A look that he shakes his head at, in response.
Opening the door for you like the gentleman he is, instead - lingering behind as he buttons his long jacket closed.
Hiding where he throbs for you. The spot where the fabric of his trousers has soaked through, dampened with his desire.
Almost forgetting his hat, snatched up at the last second.
You have to part now, it would be improper to do so otherwise. But there’s a moment where he lingers - a hand at your elbow, a split second where he pulls you close.
“Got a room over at the Turquoise Sky. Tell me you’ll meet me there tonight, beautiful?”
Murmured out for just you to hear, in the busy streets. Your very own secret, an offering to find out the true meaning of his words - just how well he could take care of you.
Emboldened, you lean close to whisper your answer back to him.
And amongst the crowd - he smiles.
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just wanted to write a fun little no-pressure thing, thank you for reading! 💖
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nostalgiclittlespace · 4 months ago
Note
Request Type: Fic
Cg: Angel Dust (and others if you want to)
Babysitters: Up to you!
Little: Reader
Maybe reader regresses suddenly after the hotel is attacked (aka that involved that dang wall being broken again) and Angel Dust helps them calm down and takes care of them afterwards.
Hi, hi! Thank you for the request! I hope this delivers! This is my first time posting an agere fic, so I would appreciate feedback :)
SFW AGE REGRESSION FIC; KINK, NSFW, PROSHIP, MAP DNI
DO NOT REPOST Word count: 1222
Pairing: CG! Angel Dust x Little! Reader
Summary: After the Hazbin Hotel is attacked, you’re left feeling panicked and regressed. Good thing Angel there! (Hurt/comfort)
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The Safest Place in Hell
Ah, life at the Hazbin Hotel!  What could be better?  Though the place was kind of a joke in Hell fairly empty, you had still managed to find a home there.  From the hotel’s owner, Charlie, to the elusive Radio Demon Alastor, you had friends everywhere!  
But Angel Dust was definitely your best friend.
As you skipped downstairs for breakfast, you scanned the lobby for the spider in question.  He had to work late last night (darn Valentino) but he should be home by now.  
As usual, the other hotel tenants occupied the lobby.  Nifty chased a couple bugs, Husk attended the bar.  Sir Pentious was talking with Charlie while Vaggie glared at Alastor’s smug smile.   But no sign of Angel.
It wasn’t uncommon for the arachnid to come home late though.  A turbulent work schedule combined with a horrible boss could do that.  So no need to worry!  
You hopped down the last step and waved to the others as you approached the bar.  Might as well bother Husker if Angel wasn’t around!
“Good morning, Husk!” you greeted, sliding onto a bar stool.
“Good for you maybe,” the bartender grumbled.  “Want something to eat?”
“Sure.  What do you have?”
A plate stacked high with pancakes appeared in front of you.  Husk dropped a set of silverware and placed a glass of water beside it.
“Nif made these earlier.  Made sure she saved enough for you.”
“Aw, thanks, Husk,” you grinned, already diving in.
Could life get any better?  A calm household, surrounded by friends, amazing food?  
B A N G ! ! !
You startled up, leaping a foot in the air.  Your attention was immediately stolen by the literal explosions that had overtaken the front doors.  The glass windows shattered, the doors blown off their hinges.
You shouldn’t have panicked, you knew that.  Random jerks attacking the hotel was a fairly common occurrence.  People who were just bored, who wanted to heckle Charlie’s pet project…
But between the sudden noises and threats and fire emerging from the doorway, yes, you did panic.
Ducking under your chair, you clapped your hands over your ears for cover.  Too noisy.  Too much commotion. 
Truth be told, the overstimulation hurt.  It hurt every corner of your brain as you tried to comprehend everything that was happening.
A pair of paws grabbed your arms and pulled you behind the bar, away from the fighting.  You curled into a ball, whining miserably and trying to swat them away.
“It’s okay, kid.  It’s me.  It’s Husk,” a low voice broke through your panic.  “Stay here, we’ll take care of this.”
You peaked between your fingers to see Husk extending his wings and pulling several metal-plated cards to attack the intruders.  He hopped over the countertop, rushing to meet the others in combat.  
As more screams and clatters filled the air around you, you felt your headspace becoming equally panicked.    Dust filled your lungs, generating wheezing coughs from your already shaking frame.  Cold sweat and a thunder heart threatened to break through your ribcage.  
Too much noise.  Too much movement.  Where’s Angel?
That thought alone made it worse.  Where was Angel?  Was he okay?  Was he home yet?  What if he was hurt in the crossfire?
Tears began slipping down your face, harsh hiccups following.  Where’s Angie?  Where’s Angie?  I want Angie!  
Thankfully, it seemed that God could hear your prayers, even in Hell.  The commotion slowly died down.  No more screams, no more destruction–
“And stay out, ya idiots!” a familiar, New-York-accented voice yelled.
Slowly, you perked up, your head emerging from where it had been cocooned.   Angie?
“Husk?  Husk, where’s the kid?”
“They’re behind the bar.”
 A quick shuffling towards the bar, and suddenly you were looking into Angel’s wide eyes.   He tossed his guns to the side and extended his arms towards you.    
“Angie!” you cried.
“Sweetheart!  Are you okay?”
Angel scooped you up, holding you close to his fluffy chest.  He wrapped his four arms around you, and you melted.  Goodness, he was so soft.  Between the well-kept fur covering his body and his arms to keep you secure, this was definitely the safest place in Hell.
“Scary,” you mumbled, burying your face in his shoulder.
“Yeah, I know, baby.  Just some old goons who don’t like the hotel is all.  They’re all gone.”
You sniffled. “I like the hotel.  ‘S nice.  Missed you.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty nice.  I missed you too.”
Finally, the storm had passed.  The bad guys were gone, your hero was home safe.  But now…the destruction still left its wake.  The adrenaline crashed, leaving only a fragile, shaken mindset behind.
“Didn’t know where you were,” you whimpered, refusing to loosen your grip on Angel’s.
“I was just running late from work, toots.  I’m home safe, see?”  
Still, your breath hitched and the tears resumed.  It was scary!  Angie wasn’t there!  He was home now, but what about before?
You mumbled something unintelligible, scared to remove yourself from the comforts of Angel’s hold as the tears poured down your cheeks.  Angel said something too, but you could tell from his subdued tone and the addition of Husk’s voice that he was conversing with the bartender.
“Yeah, I’m going to take them upstairs.  Just give them some cooldown time.  Yeah, thanks for keeping ‘em safe.”
Next thing you knew, Angel was adjusting his grip on you and you were being carried towards the stairs.  His stride gently bounced you as he hiked to his room.  The calm hallways also eased your disgruntled mind.  Sort of.
You didn’t truly find sanctuary until Angel arrived at his room.  He opened the door, managing not to jostle you at all.  As soon as the door closed behind you, you broke down completely.  You hiccuped harshly, with only your Caregiver’s hold to keep you steady.
“Ah, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Angel soothed, petting your head gently.  “It’s all over now, and you’re safe.  I’m safe too, see?  Deep breaths.”
You nodded quickly, recalling the routine you had developed for times like this.  Deep breaths in, slow breaths out.  Focus on Angel’s voice and the smell of his perfume.  Watch Fat Nuggets because he’s cute and comforting.  (The pig was actually at Angel’s feet, looking up at you with big eyes and occasionally snuffling around his owner’s heels)
“Bad guys all gone?” you asked shakily.
“Yeah,” Angel chuckled softly.  “Me and Husky scared them away.  Well, Vaggie helped a little.”
You giggled softly.  Surely, Auntie Vaggie helped a lot more than a little.  Angie was just being silly!
“Want your paci, sweetie?” he asked.
“Mhm.  ‘N snuggles?” you requested.
“Of course snuggles!” Angel grinned, giving you a squeeze.  “Maybe Fat Nuggets will join us?”
“Yeah!”
Angel carried you over to his bed, carefully lowering you onto the mattress.  Amidst the fluffy blankets and throw pillows, you felt right at home–a cocoon of comfort.  Fat Nuggets hopped onto the bed too; he trotted up to you, with your favorite plush in his mouth.  Loyally, he dropped it in your lap, his tail wagging like a dog’s.
“T’ank you, Nugs,” you smiled, hugging your stuffie.
As you pet Fat Nugget’s ears, Angel reached over to the bedside table and grabbed your pacifier.  Angel had gotten it for you as soon as he became your Caregiver–as such it held a special place in your heart.  
“Here, baby,” Angel smiled, holding the paci to your mouth.  
Parting your lips, he popped it into your mouth before settling down beside you.  He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.  Even Nuggets cuddled closer, nudging you with his nose affectionately.
“Feeling better, toots?” Angie asked, rubbing your head.
“Yeahs.”
“I’m glad.  Sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
“‘S okay,” you yawned.
“No, it’s not.  But we’re doing our best, right?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, fidgeting with the fur on Angel’s hands.  
He was so soft.  Like a giant stuffed animal!  But his snuggles were so much better than what you could get from a toy.  Soft, warm, and loving.  
“You’re looking a little sleepy there,” Angel chuckled, no doubt watching your drooping eyes and longer blinks.
“No way,” you denied, shaking your head.
“Oh yeah?  Well, how about a story?” Angel grinned.
“Very Hungry Hellhound?” you requested.
“Sure, baby,” Angel laughed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab the book.
As the two of you settled down and Angel’s voice drifted through the air, your eyes gradually grew heavier and heavier.  Your paci bobbed in your mouth and your plush was tucked under your arm.  Even Fat Nuggets was dozing off.  Before Angel could even finish the story, you had fallen asleep.  Safe and sound.
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links-in-time · 1 month ago
Text
Wild Visions - Chapter 2
Second chapter of my offering for whumptober. I was worried about this fic today, but re-reading it again gave me hope. So I hope you all enjoy it too.
🔼🔽🔼🔽🔼🔽🔼🔽🔼🔽🔼🔽🔼🔽🔼🔽
“Wild?” The Captain called again, pushing aside a patch of berry bushes, as he moved further into the woods. “Champ?! Are you out here?”
From a short distance away Warriors heard some of the others calling as well. They had split up to try and cover more ground after Twilight admitted that he hadn’t taken note of which way Wild had gone. He and the Captain had gone east, with Twilight using his tracking skills to search for their missing brother.
It had taken Twilight half an hour to start worrying after Wild failed to return to the camp. The sun had risen to illuminate Wild’s empty bedroll and his missing weapons. After explaining that Wild had briefly woken him to say he was going to, ‘check something out in the woods’, the others decided to split up and start a search of the surrounding area.
Of course, armed with his mysterious slate and being in his era, Wild could have travelled literally anywhere in Hyrule. But Twilight’s instincts told him his brother hadn’t wandered too far this time. At least, he hoped he hadn’t.
***
Link groaned and rubbed at his temples. He felt groggy and his mind was fuzzy, as though he’d been drinking. Which he knew was impossible because he’d sworn only to drink water while on duty. And at the moment, he was on duty twenty-four seven. He paused to lean against a tree and took some deep breaths. He’d checked his waterskin already and found it empty. The rest of his inventory was accounted for, though there were a few things in his slate that he couldn’t remember acquiring.
He had two major concerns. First, where was Zelda. The last thing he remembered was being ordered by the King to bring her back to Hyrule castle. But he’d been alarmed when he awoke to find himself alone in the woods, and no sign of his charge. The second thing of note was that the Master Sword was missing. Link couldn’t remember the last time he had forgotten to take it with him on an assignment. It wasn’t in his inventory either, which meant he’d lost it somewhere. Also not a pleasant thought to deal with.
No matter, Link had to focus his attention on finding Zelda. She would always be more important than any sword, mystical or not.
Link pulled an apple out of his slate and continued to walk through the woods. Following the direction of the rising sun he arrived in a large clearing. Something about the place felt familiar. Perhaps he had chosen it as a campsite for himself and Zelda that night. A quick glance around however, told him this was not the case. The litter and detritus of a monster camp lay scattered around him. Smouldering lumps of blackened wood lay in a quiet fire pit. Heaps of stolen equipment and travellers bags sat in squat piles. Whatever creatures were inhabiting this place, they had clearly been harassing travellers on the roads.
“Wild?” Four said, as he looked up from mending a hole in his tunic. He had elected to stay behind in case Wild came back to camp.
Link took a step back as the bokoblin growled at him. It slowly got to its feet and began stalking towards him.
“Wild? What’s wrong? Where have you been?” Four continued to talk, as he approached his startled friend.
The creature kept advancing and Link instinctively reached for a weapon. Practised fingers found his soldier's sword quickly enough in his slate and he brandished it at the monster to halt it in its tracks.
“What the heck man?!” Four exclaimed, drawing his own sword on instinct. Though he had no intention of using it against Wild, he would defend himself if he had to.
“What’s going on?” Asked Time, as he stepped out of the trees and observed what was happening. “Wild, are you alright? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
A moblin came thundering through the trees, brandishing an enormous claymore in its fist. Link acknowledged its presence, but kept his focus on the bokoblin closer at hand. He needed to deal with these monsters quickly and find the Princess, he couldn’t afford to waste his time fighting monsters. Zelda could be in danger and he still hadn’t found her.
Link lunged forwards and aimed a downward strike at the diminutive bokoblin. It leapt backwards with more dexterity than Link had ever seen one display before. Trying not to let himself be distracted, Link advanced, keeping the monster in range.
“What’s happening Four?” Time barked, hurrying to the Smithy’s aid.
“Don’t know!” Four replied, raising his sword to block Wild’s next attack. “He came back and just started attacking me. He hasn’t said anything.”
“Do you think it’s really him?” Time asked, thinking of the different forms the Shadow had taken in the past. Was it really beyond its capabilities to shapeshift into one of them?
“I haven’t had the chance to ask him yet,” came Four’s strained reply.
He and Wild locked swords as the taller hero’s face hardened and his nostrils flared. Four had seen that look in Wild’s eyes many times on the battlefield, but never directed towards one of his brothers. Wild was one of the most caring of all of them. He made sure none of them ever went hungry, even when their rations were low. He had helped put some meat on Hyrule’s bony frame. Even with his memory loss Wild had the brightest outlook on life, always eager to explore and take on life’s challenges.
But as Four stared up into his brother’s eyes now, he felt that Wild hardly recognised him. There was no love or bright gleam, only hatred and indifference. Those emotions quickly turned to focus, as Wild took a step back and gave Four some ground. The Smithy shouldn’t have been so pleased however, as he failed to recognise Wild’s signature tactic.
“Four wait!” Time called out, half a second too late.
Four adjusted his grip and changed position. A split second later, Wild lurched to the left, slashing at Four’s unguarded right side.
Link cut across the monster’s ribs, letting it fall to all fours on the ground beside him. The wound would be enough for it to bleed out eventually. No point wasting energy finishing the thing off. Link turned his attention to the moblin, lifting his sword ready to attack. However, the lumbering beast didn’t advance the way the bokoblin had. Instead it hung back near the edge of the clearing, seemingly unsure of what to do.
Time hesitated. He didn’t want to hurt Wild, but at the same time Four was already badly hurt and bleeding. Somehow he needed to get to Four without antagonising whatever had taken a hold of one of his boys.
“Wild, I don’t know what’s happened to you, but I need you to let me go and help Four. I mean you no harm, you know I never would. Please Wild, you know me.” Time implored, lowering his sword.
He noticed Wild watching his movements, but he didn’t seem to be hearing his words. Perhaps whatever was controlling him had altered his perceptions. Time tried another tactic. He dropped his weapon and kicked it aside, hoping the sign of surrender would be enough to halt Wild in his attack.
The moblin did something entirely unexpected, it threw the claymore aside and stepped back away from Link. Seeing this as some kind of trick, Link readied himself for anything. He lowered his stance and kept his guard up. The moblin still refused to attack, growling low and muttering in its own monstrous tongue.
“Please Wild, Link, please let me help you,” Time spoke low as he beseeched Wild.
Time stepped forwards, arms held out to show he was still unarmed. Wild’s eyes suddenly flashed with fear and he lunged forwards. Time gasped as Wild’s sword struck him square in the chest. The force of the strike knocked the wind from his lungs and Time stumbled backwards, coughing and struggling to breathe.
Link pulled his blade from the monster’s chest and wiped it on the dew covered grass. He kept the weapon to hand as he waited to see if more monsters would appear. When none did, he grabbed a few of the supplies laying around, including a full water canteen and hurried away from the camp.
Time had never thanked Hylia more for his decision to wear his armour on this journey. Wild’s strike had hit his breastplate straight on, merely scratching the surface and winding him a little. Once recovered, Time quickly looked about to find the smith.
“Four!” Time cried, as he hurried to the littlest hero’s side.
“Mnn, I’m alright T-ime,” Four mumbled, clutching at the dark red stain in the side of his tunic. “I knew Wild could hit hard, but he’s never scratched me before.”
“That was more than a scratch Four, let me see,” Time insisted.
Four obliged and rolled himself onto his back to let Time examine his wound. Removing Four’s belt and lifting his tunic, Time could see the extent of the damage Wild had done. The slash was clean but also long, without tending to it quickly, Four would likely bleed out in his arms.
“I’ve got a fairy in my bag,” he said quickly, freeing up a hand to search his pouch.
“Don’t waste it on this, a potion and a bandage will do Time. If Wild is our enemy now, for whatever reason, I have a feeling we’ll all need patching up at some point.”
Time couldn’t argue with Four’s reasoning. Wild may not be a match for some of them in terms of physical strength, but his arsenal of weapons was limitless. Never mind his knack for arson and explosives.
“I hate to say it but you’re right. Whatever has happened to our brother, he didn’t recognise either of us as friends.” Time sighed, hadn’t their journey been enough of an adjuration already?
“We need to warn the others,” Four groaned, trying to sit up. “Before Wild finds them. You and I noticed something was wrong before he attacked us. If the others aren’t so lucky, they could come out worse off than I did.”
Time nodded and grunted his agreement while he fished some bandages and a red potion from the nearest pack. He thought it might be Twilights and made a note to tell him later. Handing the potion to Four, Time began carefully wrapping his torso.
“What do you think happened to him?” Four asked, before downing the potion.
“In this era, there are plenty of dangers. But we haven’t come across many things that could have affected Wild like that.”
Four shrugged and finished off his potion, the healing magic already rushing towards his wound and begging to seal the worst of the injury. As Time tied off the end of the bandage and fixed Four’s tunic, something caught his eye. A sparkle of something like fairy dust stuck to Four’s tunic.
“What’s this?” Time’s expression deepened into a frown as he brushed off some of the dust.
It floated away, swirling around in the air between them. Four watched with curiosity while Time tried to identify the substance. The aimless drifting specks reminded him of their one and only visit to the depths beneath Hyrule. After Hyrule had been excited to explore, Wild had warned them to avoid a certain type of plant he called a muddle bud. It produced a cloud of spores when disturbed, which would confuse anyone unlucky enough to be caught in it.
Perhaps that would explain Wild’s confused state. Maybe the poor boy had dropped some while hunting and became confused by the haze of spores. If that was the case then the effects should wear off within an hour or so. But time and experience had left Time with a poor sense of optimism. While he hoped Wild would recover quickly, he refused to let himself hope enough to let his guard down.
< Part 1 : Part 3 >
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