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sundaycentric · 8 months

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I need fluff can you write yandere dan heng and if you do 2 Neuvillete (idk how to spell his name 😭)

Sorry if this goes over the rules you could ignore I loveee yandere dan heng hehe

(separate yandere) dan heng & neuvillette x gn reader

content ★ headcanons, minific, yandere, not proof read, gn reader, reader has hair in dan heng's part, sfw, fluff?

note ★ i love yandere hcs.. idk what it is i just eat them up every single time. but sorry for my recent inactivity ?!?! i rushed these a bit tho.. hope theyre still good </3 mainly just put my thoughts down :(

DAN HENG ★

Dan Heng knows what it's like. He knows what it's like to be locked up, forced away from the outside world. He knows what it's like to be alone and scared. He knows what it's like to have someone watch your every move. Dan Heng knows what it would be like for you. Yet, he can't shake the thoughts and desires to take you.

Dan Heng knows it's wrong. He can sympathize, which is probably why he tried to deny it all in the first place. However, he's been so selfless. He accepted punishment without complaint. He helps around the Astral Express so much. It's hard for Dan Heng to not be selfish this once and indulge in his love.

That is if he can even call it love. Dan Heng tried to deny his feelings for you first. He knew how hard it would be, even without expecting the obsession to come along with it. His draconic heritage makes him more possessive than the average lover. They hoard what they love, and it includes their mates as well.

Dan Heng can't avoid it entirely, though. Being without you feels like an even worse punishment than his banishment. With you, he feels something he has never felt before. Dan Heng can no longer deny his love for you, even if it may be more than that.

You might notice him giving extra attention to you. It is never anything big, but rather small things. Dan Heng looks at you a bit longer. He smiles slightly when you talk. He stands closer to you. He won't flinch away when you grab his hand. He'll let you into the Archives. Dan Heng will treat you differently.

He is still silent as ever, but he is more relaxed around you. At the same time, he feels more tense, though. Dan Heng doesn't want to push you away. He'll take his time with you.

In his dragon form, his thoughts are even worse. It is harder to suppress his desire for you. Especially when he already begins to subconsciously think of you as his mate. This is when things get a bit more severe. He's less controlled.

Dan Heng's tail might loosely wrap around your ankle as if you'd run. He'll glare at people he thinks are too close. He'll only go where you go. He'll favor you and always find a way to defend you. Things like this are much more noticeable as his love grows.

The Archives have a lot more entries about you. Your physical description, personality, hobbies, interests, and moods all have their own extensive pages. When he can't be with you, he'll simply write or read about you. Dan Heng will find himself reading over your information if he can't go to sleep.

At this point, Dan Heng knows it is more than love. He knows he is obsessed with you. But he doesn't care all that much. He feels something, something that isn't cold. Something that feels good and warm in his heart, even if it is terribly wrong in his brain. He's given up on trying to suppress it. He simply can't, so Dan Heng embraces it. He embraces you. He loves you.

If you do end up loving Dan Heng as well, he will be overjoyed. You can't see it on his face, but the way his tail tightly coils around your waist tells you otherwise. He isn't too big on physical touch normally, but he will always have some kind of touch on you.

He'll get a bit overbearing. He doesn't want to see you hurt. It's dangerous trailblazing. Dan Heng needs you.

If you find out the extent of his love, he might finally lose the rest of his self-restraint. You'd probably run. He doesn't want that. He won't let that happen. You're his now.

Dan Heng gently ran his fingers through your hair, playing with it. You sat down in front of him with his tail securely wrapped around your waist. Your back snugly pressed against his chest. Both of you breathed slowly, enjoying the moment.

"Dan Heng?" You asked. He did not respond. He only continued to mess with your hair. You couldn't see his expression, how he looked at you with utter love in his eyes. He was thinking.

"Dan Heng..?" You question softly. This time, Dan Heng seems to have heard your words. His fingers stop for a moment as he blinks.

"Yes, what is it?" His fingers resume once he speaks. They softly pull through any tangles, Dan Heng paying extra attention to make sure he doesn't hurt you. His tail lightly twitched around your waist.

"I was thinking about going on the Luofu with March and..." You didn't get to finish your sentence as Dan Heng's grip on your hair tightened. It hurt a bit, as his fist pulled on your hair unknowingly. Dan Heng's voice came next.

"No," he said. Dan Heng's voice was far colder than it usually was. He sounded angry and disappointed and upset. It was impossible for you to turn to see his expression with his hand holding your head straight. Dan Heng repeated, "No. It's too dangerous. The.. Stellaron Hunters are there. He is there. If something happens to you, you will never be able to best him in a fight. You need to stay here, where it's safe. Besides, March and the others don't need you. They can do this alone."

Dan Heng's words came out harsher than he was meaning to, but he was too busy worrying about you to realize. He shuddered slightly, imagining what it would be like if you were Blade's next victim. It wasn't hard to figure out Dan Heng is attached to you, so perhaps he would go for you to get to Dan Heng. The thought sickened him. He never wanted to see you in pain like he had to be. Slowly, his grip loosened as he went back to playing with your hair.

However, you were also a bit uneasy. Dan Heng's tone was off, and he had been acting weird recently. You spoke after a few minutes of silence, "I'm feeling tired... I'm going to go to sleep in my room now, Heng."

"Hm," Dan Heng hums, "No. I think you will sleep in here from now on."

NEUVILLETTE ★

Neuvillette also knows it's wrong. What he stays up at night thinking of is illegal. It goes against everything he does in life. Yet, he would never think it would feel so good.

Neuvillette has never been a selfish man. For hundreds of years, he upheld justice for others. He was always fair and righteous, even when it hurt. However, Neuvillette has never really wanted anything specific in the first place. Yes, he yearns to understand himself and others, but he has never felt that carnal desire to own something.

That is, until he met you of course. Suddenly, he felt something he'd never felt before. It was weird, bubbling in his chest sweetly. It made his heart ache with yearning. It almost felt a bit painful, but it was also so enjoyable. He wanted more of it.

You made him feel something he has yet to grasp. He may not understand emotions well, but he knows what certain ones are. But this, he does not know. You made Neuvillette feel something new. Something that made him feel a bit more alive. As if you were the purpose, the reason he was born.

Neuvillette tries to dismiss these thoughts, but it's hard. He must focus on his duties, but he often thinks of you in the moments between work. He knows it's wrong. But it doesn't feel bad. It feels good. So, is it really that wrong?

Neuvillette is still very busy, though. He will get the melusines to spy on you, which they happily accept. Neuvillette often tells them about you since he doesn't have anyone else he can tell. It's gotten to the point where alongside seeing Neuvillette as their father of sorts, they see you as a parent as well. Of course, they think, you must be the monsieur's spouse. They certainly have no issue with simply ensuring their 'parent's' safety, after all.

Neuvillette never corrects them. After all, it makes him feel warm inside. Marriage sounds nice. A legal contract, bounding you to each other forever. Suddenly, Neuvillette seems to pay more attention to marriage documents and trials related to it.

He will never say anything first. Ever. Even though Neuvillette wants you badly, he will not break his moral code and risk doing something irrational. He likely wouldn't either way, but he worries. Especially when it comes to you.

Neuvillette is very protective of you. He wasn't very big on touch, but now he likes to have some sort of contact with you. Holding your hand, arm, waist, finger, whatever it may be. It helps him make sure you're okay. It's been so long since he's felt affection like that, and he tries to get you to spoil him with it sometimes.

He loves it so much when you treat the melusines like they are your children. Maybe one day you can have children together. Whether it's biological or adoption, he doesn't care. Neuvillette wants to be with you however he can.

And once the prophecy kicks off entirely, you're never leaving his sight again. Even if you're not from Fontaine, there's still a risk and uncertainty. Neuvillette won't let you slip away. He can't. He'll pamper you, do whatever you ask of him (besides letting you go), but he just needs you to stay where he knows you're safe.

If you try to leave, then good luck. It'll be raining. Hard. You can barely even walk without getting soaked. It's never been this bad in Fontaine before.. but as soon as Neuvillette sees you again, it's unbearably sunny. The weather is quite extreme.

You're his mate after all. Why are you even trying to leave him, if you are? This is your home now. Neuvillette sighs, perhaps you're just nervous. It's okay, though. He figures you need to adjust.

He won't care if you find out how much he loves you. Why does it matter? Of course, he loves his mate.

"I forbid you," Neuvillette stares you down, "My dear, please, come back over here. I'd hate to request a guard to block the door."

You stop in your tracks, not doubting Neuvillette's words. You could feel his gaze burning into your skull. It scared you. He was incredibly powerful, and it would be best to comply with him, no?

You turned around. He smiled gently, "Good. Now come, sit back down, mon ange (my angel)."

You listen to him, slowly walking back towards him. You sit on the couch next to his desk before he sighs. The rain gets a bit harder.

"You know that's not your seat," he murmurs. And you know exactly what he means. Neuvillette waits for you to return to him, and sit on his lap—your seat. You do.

"There," Neuvillette breathes out on your neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face into your neck. The rain alleviates, slowing. You shake a bit in his grasp, either from his breathing or your possible fear.

"Shh.. it's okay, mon cœur (my heart), is it that you're cold..?" Neuvillette asks sweetly, before holding you tighter. "I'll warm you up, my love. Just stay with me.."

His hands begin to rub circles into your back as he flips you over. Neuvillette isn't manhandling you roughly, but he does it with such ease. It may not be purposeful, but it's a reminder of just how much stronger he is than you. After all, he is a dragon. He uses his glove hand to gently push you against his chest. Neuvillette effectively trapped you in his warm grasp.

"Neuvillette.." You say softly, "There is no need to hold me like a lifeline."

He smiles but doesn't loosen his grip. "I beg to differ. After all, I don't think I could live without you, so you are my lifeline, no? My lifeline and my mate.."

Neuvillette's voice is longing. You won't be able to get out of this any time soon. The rain disappears alongside your smile (or frown).

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vexwerewolf · 2 months

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why is it that we only have like two licenses from any mech producer that’s a good guy? For a game where like there are clear good and bad guys (even if who you play isn’t necessarily linked to that) it seems strange to me that the only loot and XP you get is… more benefits from the bad guys

I can tell you the answer, but to do so, we're gonna have to talk about a completely different TTRPG.

If you've read @makapatag's truly excellent Filipino martial arts TTRPG Gubat Banwa (and if you haven't, here it is), you may notice that every single character class description (with one notable exception) ends with one of these babies:

I am not Makapatag, and I cannot write with quite as much grace and eloquence as he can, but I will try:

If you choose to become a Lancer, ask yourself why you mock the name of peace with these weapons of war. You call yourself a saviour, but your steed was forged from the murder of a world. You stride across the sky in a colossus built in your own image, so why are you too cowardly to give it your face? Why do you believe these machines of death can preserve life?

It is important to note that the admonitions in Gubat Banwa are not just there to make you feel bad; they are there as legitimate questions. The Sword Isles have seen so much blood, death and tragedy. Wars are not glorious and killing is not a game. So, knowing all of that, why have you taken up this discipline - no matter how noble and virtuous it might claim to be - to shed more blood, to bring more death, to write more tragedy? What could possibly drive you to this? What need is so great that you must kill?

The thing with Gubat Banwa is that there are legitimate answers to these questions! There are bad people doing bad things, and some of them will not be stopped with words or kindness. Sometimes, as sorrowful as it is, killing is the correct choice to prevent greater suffering and deeper tragedy - but adding less misery and death to the world is still adding some amount of it. Even the most necessary wars will drench the ground in the blood of the innocent.

A sword is a tool meant to kill humans; while it can be used for other things, it is not well-suited to anything other than this. A mech is, in its most basic essence, just a very complicated sword: it's usually used on things larger than a person, but it's still a tool built to kill.

So why have you taken up this path? Humanity was saved from the brink of extinction and has created wondrous technologies like printers, cold fusion and mind-machine interface, and yet you use them to play soldier in a giant metal man. Why do you choose to take up this machine of death, built by the greedy and pitiless? Why do you think these machines can ever make things right?

Because sometimes, despite everything, they can.

Warhammer 40K shows an awful world full of monsters and monstrosity, and in the darkest moments of its history, Lancer's world looked just as bleak, but Lancer's world differs in one crucial way. Warhammer's world has long given up trying to be better, but Lancer's world never did. Lancer's world kept insisting a better world is possible, and it used what tools it had to make it so.

Sometimes the correct choice, no matter how bitter it may seem, is to kill someone. When you need to do this, a sword is a perfectly good choice for the job.

If you find yourself discomforted by the fact that all the people you can buy mechs from are corrupt and immoral - good! You have correctly engaged with the text. You have understood that the sort of people who would make giant walking death machines and sell them for profit are not good people. But you still have a job to do, and you need the correct tools, and those people have them.

Lancer is not a game about a perfect world - it is a game about a deeply flawed and imperfect one that does not let its imperfection stop it from trying. You have to try to make a better world, even with imperfect tools made by unpleasant people.

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #gubat banwa #philosophy #ethics #ttrpg

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boliv-jenta · 19 days

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Dark!Joel Miller x Innocent f!reader

Warnings: Age gap, reader is 20, Joel is in his 60's. Daddy kink. Dub-con.

Summary: Joel helps you understand some things that you've never read before.

Daddy's Princess

Joel may be strict with his rules, but living with him has given you more freedom than you've even had. You can go outside in the land surrounding your small cabin. Before, you only had a small area between the houses of your little town that you were allowed to walk in. There were no trees, no crunch of leaves under your feet. Not like when you get to walk with Joel. You get to read whatever books Joel can bring you. Before, you were only allowed to read books that weren't banned. You came to Joel at nineteen years old and hadn't seen a curse in print before. Those old rules seem so suffocating now, so you don't mind following Joel's, and after all, they are there to keep you safe.

When Joel isn't there, you stay inside. When people come calling you hide, when the two of you go out, you stay close. Not many infectioned make it this far. People sure still do, and by the time they get here, they are desperate.

Joel had been gone for two nights. The time alone didn't really bother you. The cabin was safe, and it was nice to be alone after growing up with so many other children. No, not other children, you were a woman now. It's still so easy to forget.

The book in your hands was keeping you company. It was a romance novel, only the second one you'd ever read. They couple had been on such an adventure. On surviving it, they finally had some time alone. They began to kiss, something you'd always wondered about. The only kisses you ever felt were from your mother, on your chubby cheeks when you were small, but she passed so long ago that the memory has faded. Reading on the man ‘rubs his lover's wet heat, preparing her to take the hard evidence of his arousal.’ The words play over in your head as you try to understand them. A familiar tingle starts between your legs. It’s the same one that comes when you watch Joel chop wood. Or when he puts his hands on you to guide you while out walking.

The door to the cabin swings open below your loft.

“I'm back, Princess.” Joel always refers to you by your nickname, or some other sweet term of endearment.

In turn he loves to be called Daddy. He tells you it's because he will always care for you unconditionally.

“Hi, Daddy.” You try to sound normal as your heart races.

Climbing down from your bedroom you try to seem less flustered than you feel.

Joel notices immediately. Of course he does, you don't survive into your sixties by being dumb in this world.

“Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?” He shrugs off his backpack and layers before coming closer to take a look at you.

One of the rules is that you don't lie to Daddy. “I was reading something confusing.”

“Well, why do we read it together and try to straighten out that pretty little head?” Joel's hand on your lower back doesn't help the feeling between your legs as he ushers you to the small sofa in what serves as a living room.

As you try to sit comfortably, Joel retrieves a pair of reading glasses from the side table, sitting back he takes the book from you. He notices the pages are damp with sweat. “What kind of book is this?”

“It's a ro-romance.” You gulp.

“I see.” His voice gives nothing away. “What part is confusing?”

Your shaking hand points to the passage and Joel begins to read. “After a period of kissing that seemed timeless as their tongues explored each other's warm mouths, Drake began rubbing his lover's wet heat, preparing her to take the hard evidence of his arousal.” Joel closes the book and places it on the table along with his glasses. “I see. Well, what part is confusing, Darlin’?”

“All of it. The words, the way they make me feel.” You confess.

“How do they make you feel?” Joel leans against the back of the sofa, waiting patiently for your answer.

“There's a tingle between my legs and in my…” you know you need to be honest so you swallow thickly and press on “...my breasts. I get it when I'm with you sometimes, too.”

“Okay.” Joel is completely calm and unphased by your words. “Would you like me to explain it all to you?”

“Yes, please.” You sigh with relief.

“I need you to lift up your skirt and show me where the tingle is.” Joel shifts forward in his seat and begins to roll his sleeves up.

Even though you trust Joel with all your heart a shyness comes over you. Joel sees your hesitation. “It's okay, Princess. Daddy would never hurt you. This is all perfectly normal and natural.”

Nodding your head you shuffle down on the sofa and bring your feet up. Your skirt falls back off your knees allowing you to show Joel where the tingle is.

“Now, I need you to point for me.” Joel is now down on the floor to get a better view you assume.

You do as you are asked. “Good girl. Now press your finger to where the tingle is.” Again you obey.

As your finger touches the fabric of your panties you find it damp and warm. “Wet heat.” You breathe as the tingle grows stronger.

“That's right, my smart girl. Now rub your finger around until you find a spot that feels real good. Your finger will have to go between your folds a little but that's fine. The spot should be like a little hard bump.”

At first you are concentrating on Joel's words too hard to feel the change in the tingle until “Oh my!”

Joel was right about it feeling good.

“That's it, now try rubbing little circles around that spot.”

Following Joel's instructions your legs begin to shake as the feeling grows more intense until you have to stop.

“Are you alright?” One of Joel's hands rubs your calf as he speaks and a new sensation like a twitch develops in your wet heat.

“Yes. It was just..a lot.” You try to breathe normally.

Joel chucks. “That's alright. You were getting to the best part. Anyway, do you understand what your wet heat is now?” You nod “The clinical term is a vagina but it has lots of names. Some sweet, like flower. Some vulgar, like pussy or cunt.

“What do you call it?” You peer down at him curiously.

When he stands you're worried that you have offended him. “Well that depends on the ‘evidence of my arousal’.” His hand comes to cup his groin and you notice that the large bulge there is even larger. “Do you know what this is called?”

You shake your head earnestly. You knew that men and women's bodies were different but you didn't know what men had down there. Only that it was bigger. “This is my penis but I call it my cock. It's gotten bigger because I've been tingling too. We call that tingle arousal. It means when your body wants to have sex or needs to orgasm. An orgasm is what was going to happen to you when it started to feel really, really good.”

You sat quietly for a moment trying to process. “So when I get the tingle when you touch me. That means I want to have sex with you? But I'm not ready to be a mother.”

“Oh, Princess. Sex isn't just for makin’ babies. It's for makin’ people feel real good. Just like you were doin’. Now why don't you slip off your panties and carry on. I promise it will be worth it.” So you do as Joel says. He drops to his knees in front of you again. “Oh, you have the prettiest little pussy I've ever seen. She's so wet. Come on now make her drip for me. Keep rubbin’.”

Wanting to make Joel happy, you do. You keep rubbing little circles until your fingers are soaked, your legs tremble, your eyes flicker open and closed and your body feels pleasure it has never known until…”I can't, Daddy. It feels like there is something coming but it won't.”

“Shhh. Alright. Do you want Daddy’s help?” Joel coos.

“Yes, please.” you take his hand with your free one.

“Just remembered, Daddy always knows best. I always keep you safe as long as you do as you are told.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Coming closer, Joel dips his head towards your pussy and you feel something warm and wet hit it. “It's always good to get as wet as possible.” He comments before the pads of two thick fingers press to that spot and begin to rub up and down.

The pleasure is near blinding. “Daddy. I can't. I…please…please stop.”

“It's for your own good. Just breathe.”

Your whole body tense as you claw at Joel's wrist.

“No. Please. Stop. STOP!” you cry as the strange sensation builds.

“Shhh. Shhh. Daddy's got you. Just relax. Come on. Come for me. Come for Daddy.” you have no idea what Joel is asking for until it explodes through you.

The tension gives to waves of pleasure. The tingle convulses inside you. The wetness drips down the crack of your ass. You head swims with a euphoria that you have never known. Your pinned in place by the feeling. You mouth open wide in a silent scream.

“That's it, Princess. Oh, look you're all ready for Daddy.” The convulsions of your pussy are restricted as something enters you. “Oh, fuck.” Joel gritted out.

The unknown pressure begins to feel uncomfortable, painful even.

“Joel?” you wince.

“It's alright, Princess. Daddy just has to take his turn. You got to come, now I have to. You don't want me being it pain do you? That's what happens when a man’s cock gets hard and he can't relieve it. Nearly did myself an injury or two tryin’ not to touch myself when you first got here. Especially that first night with your little dress all wet…” The pain increases as Joel pushes what must be his cock further in. “Oh, fuck, Baby.” Joel's groans of pleasure make you bite your lip. You don't want to spoil it for him. “Your little dress all wet and those perky nipples begging to be sucked. I fucked my fist outside the next day. Ugh.” he grunted as he finally stopped pushing forward. The intrusion was painful but there was a tinge of pleasure in there too.

“Daddy? Will this make me come again?”

“Oh, Princess. If you let me fuck this tight cunt, I will make you come so fucking hard.” Joel never cussed around you. The sound of it eased the pain in your cunt.

As soon as you nod, Joel's hands grip your hips and he begins to pull you toward him as his hips surge forward. He repeated the motion over and over a few times. You want to be good for him but he's so big.

“Daddy. I'm sorry. I can't take it. Too big.” Tears flow and your voice cracks.

“You can. You're going to lie back and take it until Daddy blows his load.”

“No. I can't.” you begin to push at his chest. Joel simply pins your hands above your head with one of his.

“You can, Princess. I promise.” his lips find your and his tongue pushes yours apart. Another wave of wetness eases the fullness you feel but it's still too much when Joel starts to piston his hips into you.

“Daddy. No. Stop. Please.” shakey pleas tumble from your lips.

They only seem to spur Joel on. “Is Daddy's cock too big for his Princess’s virgin cunt? You're wet as anything yet I'm still too much for you. Look at you, begging for me to stop. Tell me you want me to stop.”

“I do, Daddy. You're so big. I can't…” you are crying despite the pleasure building. It's all too much.

“Say it. Say ‘stop’. Beg me.” Joel's hips only increase in speed only stopping when he rams up against something inside you that takes your breath away.

“Stop, Daddy. Please.” you managed to get out.

“Oh, shit. Fuck. Daddy doesn't have to. He could fill this cunt if he wanted. I'm right there. Right up against your cervix. I could breed you. I could keep you here, barefoot, pregnant and just keep milking my cock with this cunt whenever I wanted. You couldn't do a damn thing to stop me. Come on, Princess, Daddy's close. Come for me.”

With all of Joel's talking you hadn't realised how much the pain had shifted to pleasure. This time when Joel strokes you the screams aren't silent. “Oh, God! Oh, Joel! Joel!”

“That's it. Perfect little cunt sucking me in and working me close. You dirty little whore. Fuck!”

Before you can come down from your high, Joel was on his feet. One hand was wrapped around his cock. Your eyes were transfixed. You weren't sure what you expected it to look like but it made you clench. His other hand pulled down your dress to expose your breasts.

“Perfect tits, too. They'd look even better painted.” Joel's hand moves on his huge cock lightening fast until white fluid shot from in and landed on your breasts. His hand is still moving as his drops to his knees to lick the substance off. Even after it's gone he keeps on licking then sucking your nipples. The tingle builds then breaks when Joel pumps two thick fingers in and out of where his cock just was.

“Joel!” you scream as a final burst of pleasure leaves you boneless and breathless.

Joel’s sturdy weight rests against your chest. “Now, Princess, why don't we read more of your book and see if you need anything else explainin’?”

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller #dark!joel miller #dub con #smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you

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francis-writes · 4 months

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Hiii! can i request what feyd would do if he gets jealous/possessive of his wife/partner? i just have a feeling that he would go absolutely feral. thank you sm! after dune 2 ive been searching her feyd stories everywhere!

READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL

A/N: thanks! I had crush on him since i read the book but now fortunately there is much more about him. I am still obsessed with him but for next week I may publish less often because of university and personal stuff

First of all, you're absolutely right. Not that Feyd is self-conscious. He thinks about himself as a perfect partner, a main prize, so he isn't afraid that you would find someone better than him.

But it doesn't change the fact that he doesn't like the idea of you being out of his control or someone else seducing you. (He trusts you but there's never enough caution, world is full of dangers; also with his position it is possible that someone could try to take you away just to get a revenge on Feyd)

I already wrote a scenario where somebody flirted with his crush and lemme tell you, nothing changes when Feyd is in established relationship. If anything, he only gets more possesive.

Of course, there are many different possible scenarios. His reaction depends on whether there's actual reason to worry or he just has suspicions, whether somebody flirts with you or just gets to close to you, whether it's a stranger, an acquaintance, a family. Is it a noble, a common person etc. But lets just speak about some possibilities

If you were somewhere in public, perhaps on some official party, and Feyd notices that somebody is flirting with you, he quickly drops whatever he's doing and comes to you. Keeping his calm posture, he joins the conversation and makes sure to emphasize that you're HIS partner and you aren't looking for anybody else. Feyd keeps his arm around your waist, starts talking about how happy you are together (constatly repeating "MY love", "MY spouse", "OUR family" etc). He's not that much into PDA and being soft publicly but he kissess you as hungrily and as long as possible. People on the party feel a bit awkward but the point is made.

If potential rival is going to far with their advances and acts too bold, or if it's a less public situation (for example a common afternoon in Harkonnen's residency) then it's very likely that Feyd would use violence, perhaps treating that person like he treated Rabban in the movie (throwing him on the floor and forcing to lick Feyd's boots), no matter the status of that person (unless it would be Emperor himself... I think). Maybe instead of boot-licking (or in addition to it), he would force them to admit that you're Feyd's and they had no right to mess with his possesions (even if your relationship is pretty healthy, Feyd still treats you as his possesion and he's very territorial)

Or maybe if somebody flirts with you more subtly, there's a possibility that Feyd will fuck you in a near room so everybody knows what happen because 1. He knows how to make you scream 2. It's pretty obvious from your disheveled look later. And this can happen no matter whether the flirt happened on a party (and all the nobles have to wittness this little show) or on a common day (and the only recipient of this show is his rival and maybe some poor servants).

When there's no direct threat to your relationship, he still acts pretty possesive. Feyd likes to know where and how do you spend your day (though he really likes if you spend your time with him and if you're interested, he engages you into his duties and takes to fight trainings). He wants you to inform him about your plans and he may or may not make sure that servants observe you. It isn't spying. It's just curiosity and making sure that you're safe.

Also. If Feyd was going to fight with somebody and that person acted the same way as he did with Paul and Chani ("Who is the little one, a pet perhaps? Will she deserve my special attentions?"), Feyd would be fucking livid (kinda hypocritical but that's what we love him for). That person wouldn’t survive to see the next day. And if he left them alive, it would be only to torture them and teach them how messing with his close ones ends.

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #dune part two #dune imagine #house harkonnen #harkonnen x reader

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comfortless · 6 months

Text

This Time Around

König + fem! house sprite reader

content/warnings: reader wears dresses, König is soft and lonely, pining, comfort & fluff.

notes: @deltrese put the thought of König inheriting a little dollhouse from his grandmother in my head whilst i was watching Arrietty and… yknow. likely not anyones cup of tea but the idea was too cute to not write out eheh. not proofread, apologies! wc: 8.5k.

She survives on drops of honey, dew trickling from the asters springing up along the brick skirt wrapped around the lower level of the house, sips of canned soup and crumbs of bread when he forgets to clean up after a dinner prepared far too late into the night. He’s far from a messy man; he keeps his house in lovely shape, but he’s weary, more tired than any of the mice undergoing torpor she’s crossed paths with in the attic.

In her own way, she’s grown fond of this giant. Not fond enough to reveal herself in full, but she’s polite enough to sweep his crumbs from the table after he’s gone to bed, spend a day patching up an old shirt of his with a tiny thorn and scraps of thread if she notes a tear in the fabric of some ugly, dark thing he wears. She’s always amazed when he notices her busywork, too. The way he will hold the shirt in front of his face with a boyish grin after taking notice of how skillfully it’s been repaired, the way he calls out, “Danke freunden!” in that soft tone of voice that reminds her of a breeze passing through a windchime.

She knows that he doesn’t truly think that anyone else is here at all; that’s just how humans were— silly things. Something strange happens and they’ll try any way that they can to rationalize it or personify whatever may have caused it. König looked the part of a rational man, but her heart seems to swell when he gives away just how superstitious he truly is.

He’s ritualistic in some ways; covers his mouth when he yawns as though fearing that the Devil himself will come scurrying out of his windpipe, the wind chimes he has hanging up on his front porch, even knocking on the wood of the dining room table as he passes through lost in thought about something. She might be, too, because she always whispers her wishes of good favor to him when she knows he’s heading off on some grand adventure in the world outside.

She likes that she can make sure he feels less alone.

The man never has any visitors, and more often than not, he’s away. She likes to imagine he visits beautiful places, climbs mountains she will never in her lifetime see the peaks of, runs his calloused hands over the sharp edges of leaves and plucks dandelions puffed with seeds to blow wishes into. She pictures him having sweet, doting friends, all smiles when he’s around. Though, she is almost certain that the reality is nothing of the sort.

She’s seen him come home with fresh wounds, blood seeping through gauze haphazardly wrapped around his side. She’s seen the look in his eye when he stares blankly at the lifeless wall for what feels like hours, breathing out long sighs as his fingers curl and loosen in repetition at his sides. Regrettably, she’s fretted over the sight of tears welling in his eyes to the extent that she’s almost dared to come out of hiding, to console him just a little.

He’s hurting.

She’s alone too, here. There are others like her, of course. Groups of them cluster in lived-in homes chattering all throughout the night, getting into any mischief their tiny hands can fall upon to prepare. Often times, when a little sprite such as herself chooses a place, the others come flocking, too— making merry, stealing from their humans in ways hardly worthy of a second glance and starting colonies in the rafters, far out of sight.

But no one else will touch this place.

The house is a beautiful thing, meant for a family. There were so many rooms that she had yet to even explore herself. Not a pet in sight to chase after her and swallow her whole. The floors are soft carpet she often beds down in on nights she can feel he won’t be returning, plush and soft and so unused to human traffic. She loves it here, even if her kind do not. She might even understand why, too. It’s so melancholic, haunted by this miserable giant with heavy footfalls and tears perpetually unshed, held back by the grace of quivering hands in a body with too many scars.

She’s tried to count them before, once, whilst he was changing in his room. She wasn’t trying to steal a glimpse of his body, no, she only wanted to see what stories he was hiding, written on flesh. Perched on a bookshelf, she watched the giant as he pulled his shirt over his head, some tight, black cloth that didn’t look cozy at all. He had a cut running from his navel to his chest, a few penny sized keloids along his ribcage. The giant’s body was pale, as though he had never at all caught the eye of the sun, the only thing making him look still-alive and healthy were the layers of muscle across the chest, bunching down to his abdomen.

A pretty sight, undoubtedly for women similar in stature to him, but to her she sees only his fluttering pulse in the vein along his neck, the shaking of hands too large, and those horribly sad eyes that shatter her heart with only a glimpse.

She had nearly been caught then, with her palm splayed out over her chest in open awe and sympathy for this poor, cursed beast. His gaze had snapped over to the appeal of small movement on the shelf only to find nothing at all; she had tucked herself behind a copy of a Ungeduld des Herzens.

That was two months ago.

He had left the following morning, a black duffel bag thrown over his shoulder as he meticulously walked through the home shutting off lights and closing doors. Except… he left two lights on this time; the kitchen and his bedroom were cast in a white glow. She thought, assuredly that the artificial suns in their glass casings will burn out by the time that he returns. She also realized how strange it is that he would do such a thing at all. The man was prone to his habits, and it welled her up with dread to think that perhaps the book hadn’t entirely concealed her shape, that he had seen her peeking out between old pages covered in thin layers of dust.

She occupied her time scrounging around for anything that may have suggested his cerulean eyes had fallen upon her, When a human catches sight, it’s best to leave as though a house sprite had never been there at all; she certainly didn’t care for uprooting from this cozy, quiet life in the presence of a man that she harbored a fluttering, sympathetic heart for.

To her relief, she found nothing of note.

— — —

It was rare for him to be gone this long. She’s lost track of the days after a quaint seventy-three. A decent meal is harder to come by when he isn’t accidentally feeding her; the cabinets and pantry are shut, and there’s absolutely no hope of her small hands prying open the big portal leading to a perpetual winter that humans referred to as a refrigerator. Dew drops, wild strawberries and blackberries get tiresome after a while, and sneaking outside is dangerous, anyway. The birds don’t think her anything more than a bug, something simple to descend upon and scoop into a hungry beak.

She gathers up a thin piece of thread and, after tossing it into the air an innumerable amount of times only to have it land in a heap at her feet, she finally manages to hook it onto one of the knobs of a cabinet where she knows he keeps brightly colored packages of store bought cookies.

Those were for rougher days, always in date because god knows the man probably had never had a day that wasn’t somewhat harrowing. She’s seen him drink jåger and munch cookies while watching the television late into the night more times than she can count.

She pulls the thread tight and takes steps backwards to fling the cabinet door wide open. It takes a lot of effort from her small size, but she prides herself on managing even without a cluster of other sprites to help her along. Her stomach rumbles when the package comes into view and she readily climbs into the cabinet, up a few cans and boxes to reach the second shelf.

The package is opened with careful precision. She’s diligent at emulating the rips and tears she’s seen on similar ones to make it look like an accident occurred on some storage room shelf. Her heart swells in utter delight as the sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon wafts up her nostrils, her mouth watering by the time she pulls one of the baked goods free from its confinement as she seats herself on the thin wooden board of the shelf with the treat in her lap.

It’s when her lips part and she lowers her head to take a bite that her ears prick to the sound of the front door opening. She missed the sounds of the turning lock, likely whilst fussing with the plastic and now… now it’s simply too late for her to haul off her spoils, shimmy down back to the linoleum floor, manage to unthread her makeshift cabinet-door-opener and shut it, leave it as though it had never been touched.

She’s never made a grave error like this. There have been close calls, certainly, but never one that set her off with the alarm of certainty that she would be discovered.

The lock clicks back into place, and there’s the sound of heavy boots being dropped to the floor before soft footfalls could be heard against the plush carpet.

… Headed straight in her direction.

Don’t come in the kitchen. Do not come in in the kitchen!

She finds herself in a tossup between petrified by her own fear and utterly entranced by the idea of being caught. Finally, after years of watching her giant from shadows and covered perches. The idea that he might crush her like a bug or capture her to marvel at like a pet crosses her mind, certainly, but a part of her wants to believe that her fondness for him wouldn’t be entirely unreciprocated.

From her perch, she can see the dark camos, the looming shadow as he trudges into the room only to stop, immediately, when he notices the little door flung wide open. He’s wearing that hood he wears often when he returns, a scrap of bleached fabric with eye holes torn out. She’s taken to stitching it more times than she can count, breathing in the scent of sweat, of strange lingering smoke as she works to fix the threading along the eyeholes. It’s difficult to make out his expression like this, but his blue eyes dart from the open cupboard to the rest of the room before landing back there.

He grunts out a noise of confusion, and she can almost hear his thoughts. He wouldn’t have left it open. The lights had been intentionally left on. That was a sign she had foolishly overlooked.

He takes careful steps toward her, so close now that only the fabric of his tight-fitting trousers filled her view. To her horror, her amazement, his knees bend and he kneels down slowly. This wasn’t the way that things should have went, she should have been more cautious. The hood comes into view all too quickly. Blue eyes widen as they land on her with that big cookie still in her lap.

“Hallo, little one.”

Ohgodohgodohgod.

He’s speaking directly to her. He sees her. He’s not afraid, yet her heart is burning with the icy touch of pure dread.

She clutcheds the pastry tight to her chest, lips pressed into a thin line as she takes a tentative step back into the shadow of the cupboard. So tense, so uncertain. She didn’t want to leave, silently willing him to close his eyes, turn away, forget about the tiny thing he happened upon stealing his food.

Instead, he stares down at her as though he had just found a will to keep living, a reason to stick around despite his bloodied wardrobe and the ever-present loneliness.

“Kleine engel… you are safe, please don’t look at me like that…”

He’s so much kinder than she had ever anticipated, his heart laid bare between the red rings of flesh lining his eyes. Her giant is nothing but gentle, cooing at her in such a quiet voice as though she were a wounded baby bird. Those eyes were filled to the brim with such wonder and hope that she couldn’t turn away now even if he was some rotten carnivorous animal.

“Please don’t look at me.”

The words fall from her lips despite her defenses lowering, shoulders relaxing and her eyes filling with that same look of hope he held.

It’s strange, how someone so massive doesn’t seem to send her scurrying for the hills. He’s huge, but that tenderness in his eyes that makes her feel comforted, reminds her of the gentle lull of streams and the sky filled with puffy clouds like castles in mid-morning.

“Ach… But you are so…”

Tiny, strange, a myriad of words hanging on his tongue, and she feels every one of them with each flutter of her pulse.

“… so pretty. Kleine puppe.”

She drops the cookie at that and it falls to the floor of the shelf with a soft thud that makes her jump in place.

The other sprites have their stories. It’s nice to sit and listen from the comfort of a canopy of grass when another passes through. They speak of the humans that they’ve encountered just as they speak of beasts, keen-eyed cats with sharp claws bared ready to feast upon those like herself. Dangerous things not meant to be associated with. Not one of them has ever mentioned encountering one that looks at them like… this, as though they were something breathtaking, something to be protected.

He huffs out a laugh at her shocked expression, his fingers drumming upon his knees as he watches her.

“I am not a ‘puppe’.”

“A fairy, then?”

She sighs, heavy and exasperated as she sorts out her dress and bends down to retrieve her meal. A pretty thing she had sewn herself from a vintage napkin, blue blossoms and thin lace.

“Are you going… to tell anyone?”

Her giant shakes his head with a laugh, and of course he does— who would he tell?

“I will keep you a secret, puppe.”

“Good, or I’ll curse you!” She warns, trying to puff her chest to seem bigger, more intimidating. She’s too cute to seem anything more than a frightened bunny, and his eyes are swimming in mirth at the sight of her. He’s like a giant child, finding out the fairytales in his books were true all along, only… not the ones about boiling folks like him down to bones to teach a lesson, just the ones where true love and sweet princesses existed.

He asks her a million things in rapid succession then— where she came from, how long she’s been here, what she’s doing, why she never came out before, how she can even exist. They make her head swim and she doesn’t answer a single one. He makes no move to touch her, doesn’t move any more than his nervous fingers and his beautiful eyes. They crease at the outer corners with each wide smile he undoubtedly has beneath that hood and her heart stutters each time like the flapping of little bird wings desperately seeking safe wind to coast in a storm.

She decides that she likes him as she brings herself to sit on the edge of the shelf, nibbling at her cookie whilst he tells her his name, that he works as a soldier— a colonel, sounding prideful despite the fact she has no clue just what that entails. He speaks to her in an energetic whisper, drops his shoulders and lowers himself further as though trying to appear her size, despite the vast disparity between their statures.

“Do you have a place to sleep?” König asks her suddenly, glancing over his shoulder as he looks out towards the den with a pinched brow. It was almost as though he expected a castle fit for her to appear from thin air, white gates and a shimmer of fairy dust surrounding it all.

“The floor is soft… sometimes between the sofa cushions, too. You’ve nearly sat on me before.”

“Nein. That will not do.”

He stands to his feet before she can protest and leaves the room. A part of her still teeters on the edge of running off, escaping before they became too familiar, and yet a more impulsive part wills her to wait as she hears the creak of floorboards beneath his feet whilst his footfalls ascend up into the attic.

She pictures the mice scurrying away in fright, just as she should, while she kicks her feet and waits patiently. The taste of cinnamon and sugar remains on her tongue as she places the remnants of the cookie aside and licks her fingers clean of sweet dust.

König returns a few moments later, a large box cradled in his arms.

“Close your eyes, puppe.”

It doesn’t make sense for her to leave herself vulnerable so soon after their impromptu meeting, and she doesn’t want to, but she does as he asks anyhow with a soft smile on her tiny face. Feels her chest pool with a mixture of excitement and fear as she hears him shuffling about the kitchen, the thump of something heavy being placed on the counter encourages her to flinch. She can hear small objects being set down carefully, the water running from the tap for a moment before the sound of something soft meeting wood fills her ears. It all quiets after a moment and she feels a gentle nudge at her side.

Her eyelids flutter open to see König’s finger gently pressed against her waist, his blue eyes beneath the dark hood fill her vision entirely. He’s so close, too close. As if sensing her apprehension, he raises his head back to look down at her instead.

“It is alright. I have a gift for you.”

König nudges her once more before she realizes that he’s inviting her to climb onto his massive hand. Her breath catches as she glances from the calloused flesh to his eyes and back.

Her kin would scold her severely if they were here, tell her she’s gone too far that there’s no way she will ever come back from this if she accepts. She stinks of human already. That’s how she justifies the way she climbs into his palm with her hands folded into the lap of her dress. His other hand curves around her, not touching, but hovering closely enough to keep her in place as he slowly rises to his full height and carries her over to the counter where he immediately allows her to clamber off before dropping his hands to his sides again.

The sight she’s met with dissolves any lingering fear she had harbored against him.

On the counter sits a wooden dollhouse, painted a lovely shade of blue, the roof a quiet shade of gray. It’s a stately thing, speaking of yesteryear’s Victorian styled homes with its vaulted roof, even a small turret beside the upstairs balcony. Expertly crafted and far too beautiful, perhaps even prettier than König’s empty home. Her eyes are welling with tears as she slowly ascends the three sturdy steps to the front door.

“You like?”

She can’t bring herself to respond immediately. She’s too caught up in this, opening the door with a gentle pull as she wanders into the house. It’s furnished in a hurry, some of the furniture misplaced, but… everything is here, as it would be in a normal, human home. A couch that seemed almost tailored for her size sits beside a little rattan shelf, a small table before it, a little hearth, a full kitchen and upstairs she finds a bedroom complete with a canopy bed. The curtains hanging off of it are blue like the outside, like the floral wallpaper adorning the dollhouse. She tests the bed with a gentle hand, marveling at how soft it was, how the sheets bunch beneath her palm.

Then, she approaches the window in admiration of all of the small details, little etchings of plant life carefully scrawled along the wood. The lock even clicks open as she pushes the little sheet of plastic framed by white to rise.

“It’s perfect,” she chirps out to her giant. “It’s so beautiful…”

“Oma gave it to me when I was a boy.” König’s reply sounds bittersweet, but his eyes are shimmering, as though the fact he had made this small woman so happy had been the height of his year, perhaps even an entire decade of his life. She’s seen him quietly weep to himself long into the night, only a breadth away from him as she tucks herself further into couch. He’s seemed gentle, less of a titan and more battered then, but he’s never seemed this sweet. “And now I am giving it to you.”

— — —

Sleeping in a bed is different. It’s quiet and soft with no worries of getting crushed by a heavy boot or threats of having a presence too large finding out about her existence. Those things do absolutely nothing to lull her to comfort as a dull the throbbing in her chest blossoms and continues all throughout the night ceaselessly. She tucks the blanket a little tighter around herself as she tosses and turns on the small mattress.

Mornings are different now, too. When König wakes, he taps at her front door to pull her from her restless dreaming. He has a ritual, expecting her to come out in one of the dresses from the dollhouse’s wardrobe rather than her scrapped clothing with a small mug and a plate in hand. He gives her a drop or two of coffee and food from whatever breakfast he’s pieced together. Sometimes it’s a cookie from the cabinet. She feels like a contented housepet these days as he leans over the counter to speak to her.

It’s painful how attentive König is. His eyes don’t leave her when she speaks and he consistently asks her if she needs anything, if there is anything that he could do to make her feel more comfortable as if he hasn’t already provided her with refuge and companionship, things she hadn’t even realized she had been longing for. As if he hasn’t already made her feel things for a human that no sprite should! Really, the way he loiters about with the stupid grin plastered across his face while she stumbles out of her abode to greet him does nothing to make the flutter in her chest feel warranted. It’s there no matter how much she turns her head away from him and barks out her warnings of curses and other mischief; gnaws at her every time she hears his laugh or he tells her yet another stupid story of things she knows nothing of.

She listens, anyway, utterly mesmerized when he speaks of rescuing hostages or tearing through men like a rampaging bull. He explains to her what guns are, shows her and lets her run her tiny hands over polished metal. She should think him violent and obscene, but the way he looks at her as though she’s all he has stifles any judgements before they can leave her lips.

It quickly froths to a point that she realizes she’s come down with a terrible crush. She worries for him after hearing his tales each time he steps foot out of the house on another deployment, rushes from whichever corner she’s occupied with hurried little steps to greet him. She lets him carry her around on his shoulder sometimes, even leans over his arm when it’s stationed on the counter just to feel him near.

She knows better, which is why she finds herself skittering through tall grass to seek another of her kind. Hoping for a reminder that she’s making too many mistakes. The trip is a short walk for a human, but takes her from morning to sunset to reach her destination, a narrow alder tree full of knotholes with sprigs of dandelion surrounding it.

“You what?!” Bellis exclaims, the very second she’s managed to spill her story and slump against a ruggedly crafted table within the trunk of the tree. Bellis’ voice was like the chirping of little nightingales, and she looks cute when she’s surprised— the other sprite’s brown eyes twinkle in such a way that it makes her think of stars falling into pools of honey.

“Yes… we spoke,” she huffs, curling her arms around her waist, her face feeling hot and her eyes dreamy. Bellis knows the look well enough, the other sprite has it every time she locks eyes with her wife, another sprite far too pretty. It’s affection, one that she graciously spares her friend from commenting on.

“It’s alright, you know… just be safe.”

“Of course…”

She anticipated some long-winded lecture of dangers, to be beaten by words targeting her own selfish wants.

Instead, Bellis only offers comfort and the hope that her feelings are not a lost cause.

“You aren’t the only one who has ended up falling for their human, you know?”

“I thought we were supposed to avoid them, not dream of them.”

Bellis giggles and drapes an arm over her shoulder as she prattles on about sprites and glamours that could make them bigger. She tells her of a couple only a weeks travels away, a male sprite and a human woman, how he feasts upon wild berries and golden herbs under each new moon to keep himself human-sized day and night for the woman that he loves. Bellis reminds her that the other sprites frown upon it out of fear for their own safety, but she also reminds her that she’s damned to live a life far longer than the object of her affection, anyhow, and that if he already knows of her existence then what’s the harm in it?

Those words fill her with fantasies about a happy life, where she can hold her giant properly in an embrace, rather than wrapping her arms around his thumb to satiate the burning affection running rampant through her.

They also damn her to heartbreak when König returns.

He comes home after two short weeks this time, rather than months and she rushes to greet him as always. König bends down on a knee, scoops her up in his palm and brings her over to the sofa where he sets her on the opposite end from where he sits.

“How was your trip?” She asks him sweetly as she plops down onto the pillowy cushion below, fidgeting with the hem of her dress in excitement. She knows what she knows now, and she truly could not wait to tell him, to give life to the newfound feelings in her chest. She wonders what König would say; would he take her on dates? Would he dance across the room with her as she’s seen sprites in the throes of courtship do before? Would he kiss her? The thought makes her feel warm again.

König, on the other hand seems perfectly composed and lost in thought. His hands are fidgeting, but this time, not with themselves. He’s holding a device she doesn’t recognize, tapping at the little screen with the same look in his eyes that she reserves solely for him.

“It was fine.” He mumbles, and for the first time he doesn’t elaborate. She looks forward to his stories. Time away from him is difficult now. It passes slowly without their morning chatter, without his stories, without the films she watches with him late into the night. He’s taught her to use the remote, sure, but it’s not the same without him towering at her side.

“What is that?”

“A phone.”

She listens intently when he explains what this strange object is, even shows her the bright screen and lets her tap her hand against it a few times as she looks at the shifting colors with wide eyes.

“I visited a friend while you were away.”

He rests his phone in his lap and looks down at her then, his interest piqued.

“There are more like you?”

“Yes, lots.” She giggles. She tells him of Bellis who lives in the alder with her wife, of how her dark hair curls and her voice sounds like the chirping of birds. König pays rapt attention as she speaks, belays his curiosity of the prospect of there being many more like his little housemate with a tilt of his head.

“I made a friend while I was away.” He gestures toward his phone with a smirk. “Pretty, like you, but bigger.”

König explains to her what a ‘dating app’ is with a look of pure glee on his face. She’s never seen him so happy, not even when he first met her. It’s not a concept she can wrap her head around, her kind just happen upon one another, sing and dance and feast together until love blooms between them. There’s no need for little, lighted rectangles when it came to courtship.

“She’s coming to visit soon.” He pauses as his phone lights up again, his eyes scanning over the message on screen as a grin spreads over his thin lips. “I will have to hide you.”

Her face scrunches in disdain at that as she rises to her feet to pad a bit closer to the hill of his thigh, spread over into the next seat. She places her palms against the rough fabric of his pants, looking up at him with an expression of sheer bewilderment.

“But I don’t wanna hide anymore — we are friends.”

The man’s smile falters a bit then, as he nods his head in agreement.

“Ja… but she will be more.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I am taking her on a date.”

König seems so happy, and yet she feels as if she’s being bitten by a viper. All of that talk with Bellis was for naught, because the human man that’s won her heart by telling her of his creature comforts, of war and sharing his meals with her has left her to have his heart stolen away by another.

Despite the way it hurts, she doesn’t find herself upset with him. He isn’t like her, and he’s been alone for far too long. She reminds herself that König deserves to be happy, especially after all that he’s done for her.

She only lets herself cry when he brings her back to the dollhouse and she sinks into the sheets of her bed.

The following morning comes and she wakes feeling refreshed before König even begins his tapping. She bathes in the little plastic tub filled with lukewarm water König had graciously fetched for her the night before from the faucet, clothes herself in one of the many doll dresses found in the little wooden wardrobe of her home. Dainty florals like the wallpaper in the little wooden house, only this time pink rather than blue.

When König taps at her door, she’s already prepared with her tiny mug and plate in hand, a smile on her face.

“Guten morgen, puppe.” He greets her with a lazy grin as he opens his palm to take her dainty kitchenware. His yawn is cute when he turns away to begin filling the liner of the well with coffee grounds. She follows after him across the countertop with hurried steps to match his vast strides.

As he prepares their breakfast, they speak endlessly of dreams, sweet syrupy things. He tells her he dreams of flowers sometimes, like the ones on her dress, and she tells him she dreams of exploring the world outside with him.

“I will carry you to the top of a mountain one day, little one.” König says sweetly as they both sip at their coffee. He doesn’t prepare it black as often anymore, often adding sugar and milk simply because he knows that she likes it better that way.

She tells him she doesn’t need to see the tops of mountains, because she already gets a perfect view when he carries her.

— — —

“I’ll be back later.”

König is dressed strangely, she notes as she watches him from the arm of the couch. He’s dressed casually, more so than she had ever seen him, which is a large statement considering the man normally roamed around his abode in nothing more than a pair of black sweatpants. Tonight, however, he’s chosen a black t-shirt with some text scrawled across it that she can’t quite read and tough denim. It’s an odd sight when she’s grown so accustomed to the bare flesh of his scarred torso and gaudy military camos unsuited for cozy, indoor wear.

The giant crouches to lace up his boots with one hand while the other holds his phone. There’s that smile on his face again, but she easily takes notice of the way his hand shakes with it in his grip. He’s nervous, but never so with her.

It’s strange that he’s more comfortable with a little creature in his home than he is with his own kind.

“Oh… your date,” she murmurs, standing up to her full height, despite how small it may be.

“Ja, my date.”

“Can we watch another movie when you get back?”

König nods his head as he approaches the couch, slipping his phone back into his pocket before gently stroking the top of her head as though she were just a small kitten.

She doesn’t like the fact that he doesn’t see her as anything more than a cute pet any longer. Sprites didn’t keep track of their ages as humans do, celebrating the day they were born into the world with silly parties and gifts, but she would hazard to guess she’s at least a century older, maybe more. This wasn’t her first home, only, in the last she had watched that family wither away to an endless rest.

König was different; she wanted him to stay, thrive, live forever here with her. A selfish, silly wish.

When she leans into his touch, she thinks of the couple Bellis spoke of— a sprite and a human woman. It could be the same for she and König, if only he saw her for what she truly was, what she was capable of being.

“Ja, little one. As many as you like.”

She watches as the door closes behind him with her heart in her throat.

König does not keep her waiting long. If she had to hazard any sort of guess, she would assume that the moon hanging in the sky had barely moved by the time he returns. She hadn’t even left the couch, lying on her back staring up at the ceiling when the front door is flung open.

If it were possible for him to somehow look more pitiable, he does in that moment as he kicks off his boots and rests his phone and keys on the table by the door. She knows without a word exchanged that she should not ask him what’s happened. The broad shoulders were slumped, his face somehow paler. In that moment, her giant seemed even smaller than her.

She sits up and presses the buttons on the remote with her entire hand as König had shown her how to do, loading up some Austrian film he had told her was his favorite when he was just a boy. He offers her a lazy smile as he carefully places himself a respectful distance away and leans back into the couch. The movie plays while she occasionally speaks up to ask him what certain words mean, and he patiently teaches her, seeming thankful for the distraction she eagerly provides.

She doesn’t wake in her small house, in her tiny bed, this time, instead pressed against his thigh with his hand draped over her in the world’s heaviest blanket. When she raises her head up to look at him, peacefully resting with his head tilted against the back of the couch, jaw slack and dark lashes fluttering she makes a firm decision.

The golden herbs and berries Bellis had mentioned were on the far side of the forest. A long, dangerous trek, especially for someone who didn’t know the way. Rousing a mouse to treat as a steed could work, but the urgency caused her to fret. She wanted to meet his gaze and not fear stumbling back with each exhale of his breath, to be strong and capable enough to make her giant somehow feel as safe as he made her feel. There was no time to befriend a mouse and train it proper, not if she intended to do this before the new moon came and went.

She slips from beneath König’s limp palm, off of the sofa and out the small gap in the window to set off.

— — —

The early morning is alive with the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves and calls of strange animals a distance away when she makes it outdoors. She shields herself beneath a broad fallen leaf, hunkering down to soil any time anything soars or wanders too close for her liking. Morning dew chills her to her bones, and she has herself convinced that after all of this she will most certainly craft herself a coat, perhaps one made out of a sleeve from one of König’s old shirts. He would allow it, she’s certain. The thought of him even wasting a day away to help her fills her up with another warmth to carry on.

Her little dress is filthy before she even makes it out of the yard.

Tall grass quickly morphs into a forested trail, the trees so vast and tall, filled with the chattering and singing of others. She waves to some of them, turns her nose up at a few that beckon her to join their little communes hidden beneath layers of tree bark and moss. She spots a red fox chasing after another in the midst of play, they chitter and whine as they topple over one another before bounding off into the brush.

When the sun completes a lazy crawl high up into the sky, it’s rays of warmth beaming down on to the back of the leaf, warming her fingers as they curl over it to keep it in place, she knows she should stop and rest. Tucked away in the shade of a small mulberry bush, she shoos away a vibrantly colored caterpillar before cleaning off one of the berries with a handkerchief she finds in the pocket of her dress. A small lunch that simply leaves her wishing for König’s breakfasts instead, always warm and filled with moments of soft laughter.

She wonders what he’s spending his time doing now, almost feeling a pang of guilt for leaving him after what had assuredly been a terrible outing with a woman he had admired. Did he miss her? Was he thinking of her, too? Searching through his bookshelf and beneath his couch in an effort to find her? She hoped so.

Her journey ends when night finally comes about. The moon above is a mere sliver, but it’s enough to frame the clusters of goldenrod in a soft, white glow amidst a sea of inky darkness. She cheers in utter delight when she realizes she’s made it, that despite no map or guides her senses were keen enough to carry her on the right path. She carefully gathers a few clippings, dropping them into a neat pile before seeking out the strange berries Bellis had told her about. Her thoughts are flooded by the idea of how she and König will dance, how she will tell him in a voice as loud as his own that she’s fallen head over heels for him and that perhaps, he can even teach her to use one of his many weapons before they clamber onto the couch snug and warm to talk throughout a film.

Those thoughts keep her warm when she beds down in a nest of wild grasses.

The next night fills her with excitement. The sky is darker with the new moon hanging up above, only pinpricks of starlight break through the dark. She pictured herself human sized as she performs her little ritual, feasting on berries and swaying with a sprig of goldenrod in a little dance before she bites down into it to. There are other sprites here, doing the same. Some get bigger to move or for silly things such as being able to shop in human markets or taste meat for the first time. They sing and giggle just as she does, and she sees the face flush with love of the one she knew Bellis had spoken of. It lasts the entire night, and she’s far too excited to sleep or stay out when all is done.

She doesn’t know when she’ll change shape, not having thought to even ask, but the sight of the other sprites had solidified her belief that it would come to pass.

The way back feels far shorter than the way forward. She finds herself back in the yard just as the sky settles into mottled purples and orange and puffy white clouds. The smile on her face makes her cheeks hurt, and her chest and legs ache from exertion, but she treks on until she meets the brick foundation of the house. With and arm raised and a foot dig into the firm clay, she begins to climb up towards the window still left slightly ajar.

Only, she feels a warmth at her side that tosses her back into the grass steps away. It pulls her breath from her lungs and it takes a moment for her to force herself back up into a crouch and her vision to cease its swimming. She’s always found cats to be cute from a distance away, all soft fur and pleasant sounds. The one before her, however seems menacing, its claws are bared and its pupils blown as his mouth hangs open to scent. The orange of its fur is like fire, the yellow of irises like the sun itself.

This thing was going to kill her, she knew it before she even caught sight of the way claws had slashed through the side of her dirty dress leaving shallow gashes in her flesh.

The cat rears back, shifting on its haunches in preparation to pounce as she wails out König’s name in a near-silent prayer that he would come rescue her from this adorable little murderer.

The cat is caught in arms the size of trees mid-leap. It yowls for a moment before a hand gently begins to stroke the fiery fur behind its ears. Her giant coos to the little beast, and the vibration of a soft purr could be heard as she dusts herself off and stands.

“Are you alright, little one?”

His voice is sweet as he carefully sets the cat back into the grass and scoops her up instead. She looks pitiful— dirty, injured and panting as though she’s just escaped Hell itself. König’s expression grows horribly concerned before she can even catch her breath enough to respond.

“I’m okay,” she mumbles as she rests her weary head on the palm that feels more like rough stone than living flesh. “I was only gone for two nights, did you have to get a pet?”

König laughs at that, shaking his head as he takes her back inside the house with metered steps.

“Nein, I did not. He’s the neighbor’s.”

He shuts the door behind him, taking care to ensure the scruffy feline didn’t sneak inside.

“Let’s clean you up, hm?”

The man offers her a human bandage for the scrape along her waist before she wanders into the dollhouse to bathe, dress the wound and change into something less dirty.

After everything, she finds herself utterly exhausted. She tells König good night wishes, but her giant is hellbent on keeping her in his sight. After a close call like that, she doesn’t protest when he tells her they should sleep on the couch again instead. It’s safer, and after two days apart there’s little more that she wants than to be close to him, tucked under his palm eternally safe. König only gets through the start of a story before she’s fallen asleep curled against the side of his thigh. It doesn’t take long for the giant to follow suit, either. His soft snoring is present in her dreaming, a gentle sound accompanying the breeze of wind through a field of lavender where they sit hand-in-hand.

— — —

König does not wake her with gentle tapping the next morning. Instead, it’s a bark of surprise that jolts her from her sleeping. Her vision is blurry when her eyelids flutter. She can make out the view of the coffee table, the television beyond it, and somehow it feels wrong. She was accustomed to straining her neck to look up at things, yet seeing them now she doesn’t need to at all. In fact, it feels stranger when she notes her head is no longer resting on the cushion of the couch below, but on a broad shoulder layered in muscle instead.

König is staring at her as though he’s just encountered a ghoul. In fact, he’s trembling too. His reaction is enough to prompt her to shrink back, away from him and retreat to the arm of the couch. Only, she can’t fit the entirety of herself there as easily as she had many times before. Her legs are much too long, and making her ascent only brings her hands into view. She holds one to her face and marvels at it before her gaze trails down, down and she notices she’s nude. The little dress she had been wearing was no more than a tattered and torn mess on the couch beside König, who’s still gawking at her.

He turns his head away rigidly after a moment while she sits bewildered by her change in shape. The man returns after a beat with a large t-shirt and a pair of his boxers in hand, thrusting them towards her graciously as he keeps his face turned away. She can make out the red tint on his cheeks, the way his lips part only to slam shut when words fail him and she laughs full and giddy as she slips his clothing on and stands up to twirl about the room.

“It worked!”

Her voice sounds strange even to her own ears now. Shouting from her regular stature still resulted in a mere whisper, yet this… along with seeing all she can hear all. Just as he does, she sounds of rustling wind chimes.

She reaches for his hand to pull him along in her rhythmless swaying, and he obliges with a sigh and a shake of his head. König’s grinning, though. Even more so than when he wasted his time tapping away at the phone screen. He looks happier than she’s ever seen him as he clumsily shuffles with her.

“Little one… what did you do?”

He’s still a fair bit bigger than her, but she stands the height she feels as though she should. Her giant is still a giant no matter what silly magic she uses, but it’s fine, because he’s not looking at her as a tiny doll anymore, but in utter amazement instead. The way his pulse races and his pale cheeks burn crimson isn’t lost on her.

She explains to him just what the other sprite told her, tells him about the one she saw so in love with a human woman he did the same each month to keep himself more her size too. König halts her movement as he tugs her against him and pulls her into an embrace, the very thing she’s yearned for since the afternoon they began to speak. She knows he’s confused and entirely confused, but he bends to rest his chin on the crown of her head and squeezes her so tightly that she knows he’s grateful for this small miracle too.

She helps König prepare breakfast this time. Having watched him ready his coffee pot dozens of times by now, she knows how to operate the small, black machine. She prepared the toast too, with a gratuitous sweep of jam over each slice of the warm bread. König is still overly gentle with her, keeping his distance and not resting his hands on her unless it’s required or she prompts it. She does, often intertwine her fingers with his even as they eat, which earns her a shy smile and a gentle squeeze each time. Her giant isn’t nervous with her, their conversations are the same. He tells her that she’s pretty as often as before, cups a steady hand on her shoulder when she reaches out to embrace him after their meal.

She thinks ahead and leads König into the forest to gather a plethora of golden herb and berries to stuff into the winter box for the next time she will need to perform her little ritual, and he swears to her that he will stay up the entire night to watch over her then. The walk is so much shorter from her height now, but she doesn’t forget to tap at Bellis’ alder and flash the sprite a little smile and a wave when König has his back turned on the way back.

He still has his work, and she waits at home for him like a doting housewife. Only now, he returns with gifts. His closet is no longer dark green and black— there are patches of soft colors and whites between, floral fabric and lace, dainty things that seem comical amidst the tactical articles and denims she knows he’s scrubbed blood off of a few too many times.

They don’t share a bed, but they still cuddle against one another on the couch. Hand-in-hand as she’s always dreamt of. In fact, most nights it’s his bed that she sleeps in while he rests elsewhere, and he doesn’t mind it at all. He even tucks her in and presses a kiss to her cheek that makes her so giddy that she can’t find sleep until a half-hour afterwards before he flicks off the lamp and leaves her to her dreaming.

— — —

She’s better at keeping track of time after adjusting to a more domesticated life. König’s been out for fifty-four days, but she doesn’t have to miss him so much. He’s gifted her a phone, sends her letters with his stories scrawled out in black ink. The calls are frequent, and she finds she loves them most of all. They’re at odd hours often, and he always breathes out an apology for having woken her that pulls a giggle from her, because they both know she wouldn’t have preferred to wake any other way than from the sound of his voice.

“I miss you.”

He sounds tired when he says it, and she imagines that he is. Those weary looks from before they had ever even spoken weren’t unwarranted and she knows well enough now. His tales of his heroics were not all spoken to simply boast.

“I miss you too, König.”

He huffs out a laugh into the phone, and she imagines his smile reaching the bright eyes that she loves, twinkling in mirth.

“I should let you sleep.”

“No, it’s fine.” She pauses to chew on her lip, heart sailing up into her throat. “Will you be coming home soon?”

He grunts out his confirmation. “Tomorrow.”

“I wish to take you on a date then— a picnic, maybe. I can bake a cake.”

König falls silent for a moment, and her breathing halts entirely as she slumps back against the bed— his bed— feeling as though she were still just as small as before. Surely… she could not have misread all of those little looks, the warmth and his fluttering pulse she felt as she rested her head on his arm so many times before. She parts her lips to recant her statement, but there’s no need. The contented sigh she hears in response is all of an answer that she needs.

“Ja, please. I would be honored.”

#könig #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #cod fanfiction #konig fanfiction #könig fanfiction

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redr0sewrites · 4 months

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Adam (or lute) with a really insecure S/o? like to the point of wearing baggy sweaters in extreme heat type. I imagine either of them having absolutely none of that-

ok but this is so real hello??? i love this request!!!

🥀Cw: angst to fluff, adam being adam

🥀Pairing(s): Adam x reader, Lute x reader

Adam:

adam isn't the most observant person in the world, so when he first met you, he didn't really notice anything strange about how insecure you are

adam fell hard and fast, and once you two were official, he began to notice the effort you put into hiding your body

he also noticed how, compared to him, you never bragged about yourself and you were always so self depricating

adam isn't very... empathic, and he sometimes has a hard time understanding your insecurities

adam doesn't understand why you don't love yourself- he thinks you're stunning and smart and gorgeous. how could you not see how wonderful you are?

he's mever been great at communicating, but he makes it a point to start reminding you how "fucking awesome" you are, and how lucky he is to be with you

when it comes to baggy and heavy clothes, adam doesn't care much about how you dress, moreso how you feel

he'll offer you his oversized shirts if it will make you more comfortable, but if you're deliberately overheating just to hide your body? no, that's not okay

thats probably when he'll pull you aside and ask whats up

while adam isn't great at explaining himself, he tries his best to articulate that he doesn't care what your body looks like or what you wear, as long as you're happy and comfortable

however, that also means he doesn't want you overheating or getting yourself sick, and will offer to just chill at home with you instead of going out

on days when you're feeling really insecure, adam will give you his robe to wear to make you feel more comfy, and will curl up with you on the couch in your shared apartment, far away from anyone else's prying eyes

adam just wants you to feel comfortable around him, and wants you to know that he loves you regardless of what you look like, but will never try to force you to be less insecure and will always try to make you more comfortable

even if he's a bit of an asshole and doesn't always understand, he's your asshole and you wouldn't have it any other way

Lute:

if you're datinh, lute worships the ground you walk on, she genuinely thinks you're perfect and doesn't understand how you could think otherwise

lute is also pretty observant and notices right away how insecure you seem to be

she takes it upon herself to compliments you often, not only on your looks, but on your skills and personality as well

lute doesn't show her body much either so she doesn't really care whether or not you do, but if you're hiding your body to the point where its genuinely harmful? nope. not gonna fly.

she's more mature than adam and would sit you down to have a conversation with you about how you feel

she doesn't want it to seem like a confrontation, she knows how sharp and rude she can appear and doesn't want her icy demeanor to scare you away

once she understands the situation a little better she offers genuine advice and is always very supportive

lute would invite you to go on walks with her, or to sit with her while she works out, and overall just offers to spend more time with you to work through any insecurities you may have

she doesn't want you to feel like you have to hide any part of yourself when around her, and will kiss every inch of your body and praise you to the moon and back until you understand that

lute wants you to stay safe and would fret if you overheated, as much as she wants you to be comfortable she also wants you to be healthy- physically and mentally

she understands that you don't want to purposefully overheat and doesn't blame you, but she is also pretty serious about you keeping yourself safe

on hot days you both mostly just stay home, and whenever you're feeling especially insecure she cooks you your comfort meal and chats with you to get your mind off things

i need them both this is not a drill. also what if i told you i had zestial x reader in my drafts huh. what then.

#adam x reader #adam x you #adam hazbin hotel #adam hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x you #lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute x reader #lute x you #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #lute headcanons #adam headcanob #adam x reader x lute #hazbin hotel x you

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bad268 · 2 months

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Omg I just read your new kimi fic (with the chronically ill reader) and I love it so much! Soo literally anything else for kimi would be amazing (there's so little fics for him istg) but if its okay I'd love a figure skater reader (but like professional, world champion kind of skater) who's currently not competing cos she injured herself kinda badly (preferably smth to do with her acl but anything is fine) so she can't skate atm (like kinda Angsty but also fluffy, maybe kimi comforting reader or smth?)

Otherwise I'd also love same concept with figure skater reader and her and kimi going skating and like her teaching him or smth haha

Thanks so much in advance already <3

Go for the Gold (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Figure Skater! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Thank you love! I'm glad you liked it <3 I may or may not have semi-based this on Sasha...)

Warnings: Drugs (pain meds)

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1040

Summary: Silver will have to do until you can get back on the ice.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

As if finishing second in the Olympics wasn’t a hard enough blow, you landed wrong during a practice jump and made a worse injury for yourself when you proceeded to compete on it. Yes, it wasn’t your main jumping leg, but that did not mean you didn’t stand on it during certain moves. And yes, silver was good, but when you set a world record in your program, maybe you set the expectations too high when you expected gold. Your teammate ended up getting gold.

You just got back to your apartment in Italy after a medical appointment. Of course, you tore your ACL. And to make matters, worse, your boyfriend was out for testing all week. That just added salt to the wound.

Your parent dropped you off after you assured them you would be fine as you hopped up the stairs with your crutches in hand. You would not be able to get in for surgery for at least a week, so you had to suffer in pain for the next few days until the doctor scheduled you.

You hobbled up to your door, trying to fish out your keys one-handed while simultaneously balancing on one leg. Usually, it would not be difficult, but you were still in pain and still felt the effects of the pain meds. It was a little harder than you remembered. You finally got your keys out, and of course, you dropped them.

“Can anything go my way for once?” You groaned to yourself as you tried to grab them. Just when you touched them, a hand came out to swipe them off the ground as another hand wrapped itself around your torso and pulled you toward the door that you just now noticed was open. You looked up at the person, dazed, to see Kimi holding you up. “When did youtube here?”

“Testing ended yesterday, I thought I texted you?” Kimi replied as he lifted you, grabbed your crutches, and carried you into the apartment. He carried you all the way to the common room where he set you on the sofa and handed you the remote. You took it from him with a glare as you pulled out your phone to show him no messages.

“Does it look like you texted me? No. You didn’t,” You snapped as you threw the remote to the side as you opted to stay on your phone. “Would’ve been nice to have you with me, but no, You were here chilling while I was getting drugged and x-rayed.”

“I must’ve forgotten to send it,” He muttered as he pulled out his own phone. Indeed, he did forget to hit send. He wanted to be upset at the attitude from you, but he’s been with you long enough to know that when you get hurt, you get mad. It’s never directly at him, moreso at yourself, but that did not mean it hurt any less. He knew the best way to go about this is to give you space for a while.

So he left you alone. As soon as you snapped at him, you felt bad, but you couldn’t follow him because he left your crutches against the far wall. You had to just sit there in the hole you dug and wait for him to come back.

What felt like forever to you was more like an hour for Kimi. How did he know? Because he cooked you your favorite food (that he knew how to cook) as an apology. He went to hide away in the kitchen, so he could still keep an eye on you while also focusing on food. If you were still on the meds, you would be hungry after they wore off, he thought.

He was right because he peaked over to the common room when he heard rustling, and he saw you trying to stand up using the table. It was not nearly tall enough to provide adequate support, so you kept falling. He ran over to help support you, and you looked up at him with tears in your eyes when you noticed he was the one helping you.

“I’m sorry I’m being difficult, Kimi,” You whispered as you leaned into his shoulder and cried. ”It’s just a lot, and I didn’t plan on being injured, and I know I’m not the nicest when I’m injured, and I know I snapped at you-”

“And I know you’re sorry, and you don’t have to apologize,” Kimi chuckled as he cut off your rambling. Every time you got hurt, you would apologize profusely every time you snapped, but it became something he would look forward to. It usually means the initial pissy mood was gone until the (inevitable) next injury. “I made your favorite to cheer you up a bit? Are you hungry?”

“Are you a mind reader?” You gasped as you snapped your head up to meet his eyes. “Did you know I was craving it?”

“I just know you like to eat it when you’re feeling down,” Kimi consoled as he helped you toward the kitchen island to sit. Then, he went around to plate up your food. “It’s known to give you strength. Maybe enough to get you back on your feet sooner.”

“Oh, I wish,” You sighed as you began to eat the food. “This is amazing, Kimi! Who knew you could cook?”

“You’ve known I could cook for years since you taught me how to make it!” Kimi defended himself. “And what’s with the ‘I wish’? Something happened at the appointment?”

“Just that they can’t get me in until next week at the earliest,” You groaned as Kimi took his seat next to you. “Looks like you and I are gonna be attached, more than usual, for the foreseeable future. At least a week wait for the surgery, then a 9-month recovery period. Therapy won't start until at least a month post-op.”

“And I’ll be here the entire time,” Kimi comforted as you leaned into his side. He left a kiss on the crown of your head before whispering, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll get the gold next time. You’ll come back stronger than ever. I think this is the start of your comeback story.”

~~~ Part 2 ->

~~~~~

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leewritestoomuch · 3 months

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I’m sorry for all the requests but Dr.stone brain rot is killing me 😭:

May I order a headcanon (once facking again) where their s/o’s family was extremely poor in the past, so when Ryusui made currency they spent the least amount of money, rarely eating out of habit and trying to not make the same mistake their family did before?

If there was a Tsukasa part I believe that would only fuel his anger more for the rich and greedy ngl 😭

Anyways, if you do my request once again. Thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart! And remember to always take care of yourself pookie <3

- Sincerely, 🍙 Anon

Reader’s Family was Poor in the Past

Hi!!! Thank you for the request! :) and do remember to take care of yourself too! Sorry this is so late to when you sent this in 😭 there is so much in my inbox, I jump around.

I chose Senku, Gen, Tsukasa, and Ryusui for this.

Senku Ishigami

He wasn’t too concerned with what everybody was doing, but your behavior doesn’t go unnoticed.

He watched as you picked through almost thousands of drago and only spent a few, and it almost seemed like you were scared to.

Ryusui had practically thrown drago at you because you were nearby and he complimented you and gave you plenty of money, so why were you spending SO cautiously like you were down to nickels and dimes? (I know nothing about Yen so I don’t know if there is an expression equivalent in Japanese)

You have nothing to really save the money for, so why were you debating so hard over spending it on a shirt. You wanted the shirt, didn’t you?

Eventually, he’d found out from somebody that knew you that your family was poor. He had thought something like that must have been the case, but now he knows for sure.

He’d likely encourage you to spend a bit more. Either that, or he’d bluntly tell you there is no reason to keep the money so close to you anymore.

Gen Asagiri

If he had that much money, he’d be blowing it.

You had thousands of drago that Ryusui had just handed you. And you were clutching onto it like you’d be robbed of it and be left for dead without it if you loosen up just a little.

You hesitated to get cotton candy, despite how much you said you missed the taste.

He watched you and soon noticed your behavior was like those who were less fortunate to have to ration to survive.

You didn’t need to do that here, the money isn’t that important. At the end of the day, the hunters in the kingdom of science would bring home food rather people paid them for the meat or not.

The community doesn’t run off of money, so your behavior is unnecessary. So he’d probably talk you out of it.

He’d come stand beside you, talking to you softly.

“Money isn’t that important here. You don’t need it to pay for a house. And the beasts of people we have here do the hunting for us, and never once have they asked for money. Nor would they deny you food if you couldn’t pay. You can save some… but maybe spend half? Plus…” he leans in to whisper, “Ryusui would gladly pay for you if it ever came to it. I’m sure a man like him will never run out of money.”

Tsukasa Shishio

Dragos have been around for a while, but you’re still clutching onto them like it’s life or death.

Francois doesn’t make you pay them for food. The hunters (him, Hyoga, etc) don’t make you pay them for meat or anything.

So your behavior has got to be engraved into you.

He might be on the side of kingdom of science, but deep down, this rise of currency and capitalism bothers him.

watching you struggle to let go of money makes him angry.

The world they used to live in had brought you to this point, and that pisses him off.

He knows what that’s like. He fought for money. He became famous for money. All for money for Mirai. Just so his sister would live.

He had to pay people to keep his sister alive.

And old men paid for the rights to land and he had no grounds to even do anything about getting beat down by one for picking seashells. That man OWNED those seashells.

He doesn’t know exactly what you went through, but he’s got an idea.

He doesn’t say much, but he makes sure to give you plenty of food and he’ll buy things for you and give them to you.

Honestly he’s so sweet.

Ryusui Nanami

Spend money, get bitches. Yk. (This man would hate the word bitches for sure. But I had to say this. Like side note, but he’s an advocate for the word to be offensive when leaving a man’s mouth)

Ryusui gave you thousands of drago and stepped back. He expected you to spend it, give to the economy, etc.

But you held onto it like you were gonna need it soon.

He doesn’t really know what that’s like. He’s always had lots of money.

Well, once he had a smaller allowance, but even that would be a lot to most other people. He doesn’t realize this so much, not until he sees you.

He’s confused at first.

What else is there to do in life than get all that one wants when they want it? Get your money up, keep your money up, spend your money up. Yk. The 3 pillars to life. (This is not what they are)

He gives you more money.

But you try to deny it.

He insists. Then he watches you clutch onto it like you’ll need it all in an hour.

He probably goes over to encourage you. Telling you to see things how he sees it.

And then you probably explain why you just can’t. You’re scared you’ll end up like your family was as a kid.

He begins to see what you mean, and he’ll probably spend some money on you.

“Don’t be scared. There isn’t anything to worry about money about here. Even if everything had a cost soon, I’d pay for whatever you needed. And all these people would surely do you a favor even if.”

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gooppoo · 1 year

Note

Okay okay so let’s say Neteyem has had an arranged mate since he was younger and they grew up together as best friends who just always knew they were going to get married, but we’re never really lovey dovy or acted like a true couple and l when the Sully’s have to move to the Metkayina clan, Aonung takes a little liking towards y/n and Neteyam is just getting very jealous from afar and one night after he gets a little too touchy, y/n and neteyam make soft love where she reassures him that she’s his and only his and then they mate for the first time and yeah just like jealous protective neteyam and fluff and smut pls

anon you basically wrote this for me! just gonna add some of my thoughts <3

All Yours Baby.

Requests Closed!!

mdni.

warnings: angst tehe, sorta a love triangle? all characters are of age obvi, p in v, love making babeyyyy, creampie

It's been set in stone that you and Neteyam were like destined to be, even before you were chosen to be mates

But like...y'all weren't all that into each other, just sort of aware of each other's existence

Then Jake had the bright idea of moving everyone, and it more or less threw a wrench in things

You meet the Metkayina and tried to incorporate their lifestyle into yours, because adaptability is imperative in this world

As you warm up to this new ecosystem and way of life, you of course meet new friends, while still trying to balance the old connections you cherished

Ao'nung.

Ao'nung was strong, charming, and sometimes a little too confident

He was more or less your teacher - Neteyam's too - but he would take the time out of his busy day to teach you more than the surface level of the Metkayina lifestyle

And Neteyam noticed this...

He also noticed how handsy you'd get with one another

He also didn't miss how Ao'nung kissed you in front of most of the clan one evening after heavily drinking

And as not to embarrass him, you sort of kissed back, then quickly pulled away and said a quick goodnight

Trying to be undetectable, you took to the water and swam far until you reached some rocks peaking from the surface, and perched upon them

You were out of breath from the kiss and from the intensity of your quick leave

Drinking was on the top of your list of regrets

You rested back again the rocks, studying the stars and hoping to find some calm in them

And guess who shows up not long after - scaring you a bit with his near silent arrival

Neteyam

And he's pissed, ugh he's such a bawl baby sometimes, but it's endearing

You yelp and scold him for scaring you

Shortly, he apologizes and makes room for himself on the small patch of land

He stares at you. Not in a weird, threatening way, but like he's searching for the right words through you

Let's be honest, Neteyam isn't the best with words

"I didn't know you and Ao'nung were..."

You felt your body stiffen up, heart skipping a beat painfully

Quickly, you sat up and pressed your brows together at him

"We're not." You said with the same amount of attitude as Tuk

That seemed to ease his expression

He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, "Good."

But he could still feel you watching over him, studying him like you had the stars

His electric yellow eyes would dart from his lap to yours bashfully, slightly embarrassed

To ease his discomfort, you slid a hand onto his knee, then scooped up his palm

Like you had done it a million times, your fingers interlaces and your palms met, feeling the heat building between your skin

You decided to scoot a few inches closer

...and so did he

Many inches closer in fact

Then there was a split second where your eyes met again, and they fluctuated until your pupils were as expansive as the night sky

It was like your minds had connected in that moment, because he pulled you into his lap as you had every intention to crawl onto it

Not too soon after came a kiss

The first one shared between you two may I add

So it was a little awkward, but still had butterflies exploding in your stomach

After finding a sweet melody between your lips, tongue, and faint sighs, more suggestive behavior was thrown into the mix

Like you grinding down on his lap...and eventually the tent under his loincloth

Neteyam cradled your back and laid you along the ground with him above you

You didn't dare pull away from your kiss, because you had quickly become addicted to the surge of electricity he had rushing to your heart

His mature hands mapped out your body, spending more time near your thighs and waist

Running his nails along your hypersensitive skin so you'd yelp into his mouth

When you started wriggling your hips toward his hand he knew he needed to escalate things

His fingers dipped below your loincloth and was painfully slow to caress your folds

But he knew to gently circle your clit, and run his tongue along your bottom lip, while his hand cupped your face and his swipe thumb along your cheekbone

There was a gentleness about him that Ao'nung had never once introduced to you, and it left you more hot than you expected

Neteyam could feel the heat you generated and spread it along your center until your sighs were moans

He knew what patterns to trace long enough for your back to rise to his chest, struggling to return his kiss

And while your mind was still swirling with the remnants of your orgasm, Neteyam prepared himself for you

"Is this okay? Are you okay?" He wondered, just as out of breath as you

If he had you cumming with just his fingers, you could only imagine what else he could do

"Yes, please." Your eyes were surveying him with adoration.

He talked you through every step, asking you to speak up when it was too much or uncomfortable, but you didn't need to

Neteyam was gentle and easy, and you were plenty prepped for the stretch he offered you

So much so, you wriggled the rest of his length in you, both of you moaning and laughing one he reached your hilt

He leaned back over you, propped up on his elbows and lips ready to dive back into yours

"Ready for me to move?"

You nodded, and rid the space between you

First he started slow to make sure things were still in order

Then he picked up his pace until neither one of you could continue swirling your tongues together and just breathed into the crook of each other's neck

Your hands felt along the muscles of Neteyam's back, noticing how they flexed and whining

"Neteyam..." you reeled, "Show me I'm all yours."

It was like a connection was made after you purred those words into his ear

He didn't hesitate to take those words to heart and preform accordingly

By accordingly, he tucked a hand under the small of your back and lifted your hips a few inches, and ran his pelvis along your clit with each thrust

Meanwhile, he peppered wet kisses along your neck and chest, even going as far as to nip a few purple marks into your skin

"Mmm gonna cum baby - show you I'm mine."

You didn't object in the slightest, finding yourself nearing that same fate

His rhythm stuttered as he reached his climax, and returned to a snail like pace as he released in you

You both shared a sloppy kiss, feeling each other finish in unison and hold each other impossibly close

"Always gonna be yours..." you murmured between it all, feeling him smile against your lips

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you

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rboooks · 4 months

Text

The Shadow Nation

Zuko will admit that his time as Fire Lord has been a rough adjustment. Many oppose his rise to power, scream for a more prolonged war, and still support Ozai over the banished prince turned tratior (In their eyes at least).

He has dealt with many assassination attempts throughout his two-year rule. Suki and her warriors were working nonstop to keep him safe, but even they couldn't be everywhere at once. So it came to no surpise that one managed to sneak through every now and then.

Ussually, Zuko is able to fight them off. What many people of the fire nation don't realize is that the stories of his bending and combat being weaker then his sister and father are in the past. He has plentely of front line combant experince, has re-shaped his whole fire bending tenchine and has even trained the Avatar.

Zuko, to this day, is much more deadly with his swords than with his flames. The fact his people consider none-bending as a none-threaten is a sadundervalue of his combat abilitiess. The assasins are always so suprise when they learned just how ready he is for them.

They spent the rest of their days in a prision cell, stweing in rage that the Fire Lord contuines to call back troops, return colines and some may say worst of all, welcome the Mixed Blood into the nation.

Mixed Blood are children who resulted from Fire Nation soldiers letting off some stress in conquered areas with other Nations. They were not seen as equals, for Fire stood above all, and those children were servents at best, dirty secerts at worse.

This was a notion that all four elements shared. They disagreed with intermingling with the wrong element. The Mixed were not welcomed anywhere, less if they shared Fire in their veins. There was some tolerance for Water and Earth mixing but only some and only in trading ports that were far out of sight. (Or the pleasure district where all the Mixed eventually ended up)

It saddens Aang; he claimed a hundred years ago that mixed was common, and it's another thing this wretched war ruined.

Mostly, it angered Zuko. He knew what it was like to be an unwanted child, knew the confusion, the anger, the pain of wondering why his birth was such a sin.

He met some mixed children while on the run from the Fire Nation - he suspected Jet was one of them, but he never dared voice his opinion. Being outed as mixed in some places was as good as a death sentence. Ba Sing Se was one of those places.

He decided that the if Fire Nation would heal everything they have done then they needed to make admends for such children. They needed to help them find love and a home. With the help of his friends, he sent out a world wide notice welcoming any Mixed Blood and promising a life where they did not need to hide who they were.

Zuko, will admit that this eagerness to welcome those children may have blinded him from how lowly his people saw the Mixed. His assassination attempts tripled since herds and herds of badly washed, weary eyes, and tired individuals started arriving in the fire nation.

It, apparently, didn't help that Cheif Hakoda did the same after much encouragement from Katara and Sokka. The Fire Nation for the past three generations grew up with nothing but tales on how they should never be like the rest of the world.

Agreeing to shelter Mixed like the Southern Water Tribe has many calling for a coup.

Zuko knew this. But he would not stop in his effort to right the many wrongs of his bloodline. He expected the assumptions, he expected the barely hidden insults of his advisors, he expected the resentment from some of his more patriotic people.

What he wasn't expecting was his people trying to rid of him using spirits.

Zuko doesn't know much about the spirits or the spirit world. Aang never really talked about his trips there, and Uncle would only warn him to respect the beings at all costs.

He knew enough to follow, honor them, give them prayers, and how to avoid them but nothing else. So he really isn't prepared for his latest assassin to be an old woman with a spirit trapped in a cursed pot.

Apparently, her family had sealed it away years ago, and in exchange for its freedom, the spirit is tasked with ridding the world of Fire Lord Zuko. The old hag waits until Aang, Uncle, and Sokka- who also surprisingly has some encounters with spirits- depart before attempting her plan.

She rushes into the Gand Courtroom, throwing her pot with a loud release spell on her lips. Zuko is in the middle of a peace summit, so his first instinct is to protect the visiting diplomatics, less the other Nations call war again.

The old woman is quickly taken down by the Kypshi warrior, but the deed is already over.

The pot shatters, and out bursts a blue burning flame that forms into a howling wolf. There are chains along the wolf neck, and no amount of thrashing can break them. The wolf looks up, straight into Zuko's eyes, ignoreing the swords and flames of his guards trying to protect him before it bows it head.

I'm sorry. It seems to say. This is the only way.

He leaps at Zukom by passing every attempt to stop it, before it digs it's teeth into the Fire Lord's neck. Everyone is left watching in horror as the young king screams in agony, blue flames licking all over his body as he truns to dust.

The wolf's chains shatter as the last of the ashes that were once the man who brought peace to the world fall. The old woman laughs, even though the wolf spirit now turns it rage filled eyes on her and her kin.

She did what she needed to do. The Fire Nation will rise.

She is unaware that her actions cause the Fire Nation to burn. The wolf spirit was the nation's original spirit of mercy, and her family was the ones responsible for sealing it away on the order of thelate Fire Lord Sozin.

She is unaware her ancestors were all but wiped out once they successfully put the wolf away, for fear that they would turn on the nation.

There is nothing more dangerous than a spirit that no longer holds mercy. The Fire Nation seems to vanish overnight. It breaks Avatar Aang's heart but world prepares for a second war. A war against the spirits.

But that is the fate of this timeline. Fire Lord Zuko would never know the fate of his people as he was sent far away by Mercy to fulfill another destiny.

It's the least the spirit can do for having to take his human life in part of a deal.

Zuko wakes to find the Blue Spirit Mask attached to his face, laying on his back in what could only be Fire Nation colonies within the Earth Kingdom.

His trusted duel swords tied to his back., his utterly black outfit with only hints of blue undertones, and the most startling feature of all, his now unscared skin.

Zuko has no idea what is going onas he studies his face in a river, tracing his smooth skin with a near-hysterical glee. He's never considered himself overly goodlooking, but for some reason his relection is pretty.

No, not pretty, gorgeous. Unnaturally so, as if he traded his humanity for features as perfect as these.

What in the world-

A scream breaks through the air. High pitch, laced with fear and sp obviously young, Zuko is donning his mask breaking into a sprint before he even process what he is doing.

He does not notice the small flickers of ember he leaves in his wake, multiple colors as his dragon flames, nor does he see that the speed he travels is impossible unless he, too, is an Airbender.

When he breaks through the treeline, he finds himself in a ruined camp. A crowd of Earth Kingdom soldiers surrounds two small children, who look no older than ten, while a third, probably twelve, is desperately trying to free himself from a large boulder that seems to have crushed his legs.

There is blood everywhere, and Zuko burns with rage.

"Mixed Blood isn't welcome here," A soldier spits, kicking the thrashing twelve-year-old. The gut-curling screams the poor thing releases don't seem to affect the soldiers besides a few taunting smirks.

"Spirits help us!" One of the smaller kids cries out and a near by soulder kicks her in the stomech.

"The spirits don't answer to the likes of-" His words are lost as blue flames overtake the small opening, placing a barrier between the children and the adults.

Zuko walks through the flames, a strange sense of calmness washing over him. Deep within, he knows that he will protect these children from the world and burn everything in his path that tries to stop him.

"A spirit," One of the soldiers gasps. "Why is a spirit here?!"

"You attacked children." Zuko's voice is his own but not. It sounds like it's coming from a deep cave, as if the echoing flickers in and out like a candle flame. Somehow, it sounds far worse than Aang whenever his past lives speak through him.

It would have chilled him to the bone if he was in the right state of mind.

"You attacked children." He repeats when he does not get the responses he wants from the soldiers. They are not groveling before the children in regret. They are not freeing the boy from his pain. They are not moving.

"These are not children. These are Mixed- abominations! We were only trying to Agggh No, please. Mercy! No no! Please," One of the soldiers starts, but his words are cut off by the blue flames that suddenly grab hold of him, shaping him into chains and dragging him into the shadows that have formed around Zuko.

Shadows that hold loud screaming voices all being for death for that would be a mercy.

His screams echo alongside the voices within Zuko's shadow as he tilts his head to the remaining soliders.

"You attacked children. Leave" He whispers and at once the screams stop, the shadows draw back into his own human shaped one and his flames blow out. The Earth Kingdom soldier remains on the floor, eyes seeingless, and skin blue.

Dead.

The rest of the Soldiers don't linger, rushing to leave the angry spirits sight. Zuko watches them leave from behind his mask wondering where such rage had come from. And why he felt numb to the life he just took. Why he felt so unhuman and not be bothered by the thought.

He reaches up to trace the Blue Spirit Mask, feeling dancing flames along his fignertips.

Well done. Our children are safe. A voice whispers in his mind. It's Zuko, but it's also not. It's something more.

He hears a small whimper that snaps his out of whatever hold the mask has over him snaps. He turns his attention to the three children. The two are trying to push the bolder off of the eldest, their features scream Fire Nation but their eyes and coloring belie their Earth Kingdom.

Zuko stride over, waves a hand and the rock butns to dust harmlessly. The younger children cower and the oldest is too daze with pain to do anything else but sob.

His legs are comepletly smashed.

The cold burning rage returns.

Our children. Heal them. Zuko hears, and he wonders if he's gone mad. It's his own voice, but it belongs to the Blue Spirit.

I can't. I'm not a waterbender. He tells it

We can. We heal with green flames. Heal. It insits

Zuko traces the jaw of his mask before he raises a hand and sure enough green flames lick his fingers. The children start to sob, but he heads their fear no mind as he brings the green fire down on the boy's broken body, willing it to warm, fix heal.

Bones, muscles and skin slowly repair one by one, taking whatever scars once decorated the child's skin and leaving smooth almost too perefect sking behind.

Once done the flames jump onto the other children, fixing the broken bones, the bruises and the many scars other less kind humans have given them.

The three gape up at the spirit who holds out a hand.

"Would you like to come live in my nation?"

"The spirit world?" One whispers wondering if they had not been rescued after all. If that had all pasted to the next world.

The spirit tilts its head before removing its mask and revealing a face so beautiful it could rival the stars and sun. "No, dear child. My nation. My name is Zuko."

A fifth nation is born. The Shadow Nation moves from place to place but can never be taken as the spirits themselves protect the civilians.

Not that Zuko realizes it. He's just trying to get back to the Fire Nation, and if he impulsively stops every time a child is in pain and said child follows behind him like a lost puppy, well, that's no one's business but his own.

The legend of the Blue Spirit, protector of all children, inspires so many before Avatar Aang is found in the Southern Water tribe three years later.

A fire wolf watches from a far and smiles.

#avatar the last airbender #time travel #Zuko is the blue Spirit #I've been reading a lot of ATLA fanfiction #I love the idea of Zuko being confused for a spirit #Zuko has no idea what's going on #tw: child abuse #Tw: some racism?

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iwritefandomimagines · 4 months

Text

NOTES — JESS MARIANO

based on a request

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: after months of mutual pining, jess arrives at luke’s having read your favourite novel. oh, and he has some notes.

warnings: swearing, jokey sexual reference, other than that just tooth rotting fluff vibes

author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i loved it sm i had to immediately start writing!!! i hope it does jess justice — i love writing him so much. i may go back and edit some bits im not 100% happy with — but i hope you enjoy!!!

pleaaaaase let me know what you think — i love love love reading you guys’ feedback <3

———

“I finished it.”

If you were anyone else, you’d have jumped out of your skin at the sudden, and rather loud, appearance of someone beside you.

But this was you, and it was Jess, so you were more than used to your ‘peaceful’ study sessions at Luke’s being interrupted by his ever-present smirk, his flirting and his endless supply of smartarse comments.

Not that you could complain.

You’d grown used to his omnipresence over a year ago. And it had been months now since you’d realised that you no longer just tolerated his company — you enjoyed it a ridiculous amount and instead longed for it when he wasn’t around.

You eyed him quizzically, noting how proud of himself he looked for reading your favourite book, but also noticing an unusual lack of self-assurance glimmering through his expression.

“I would ask if you mean this trig stuff for Mr Elton,” you gestured down to the homework you’d been painfully poring over for the past hour, “But I know you too well to expect you to actually do your homework, so what are you talking about?”

He didn’t mention that the real reason he never studied in your trig study sessions was because he was more often than not too busy staring at you and coming up with things to say to make you laugh.

Jess raised his eyebrows, but then shook his head and cleared his throat to do a godawful impression of you, “Oh Jess, I can’t believe you’ve never read it. My favourite novel in the whole world and you’ve never read it!”

You scoffed, “If that was supposed to be me, get out of here.”

“Please, like you really want to get rid of me,” he teased, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you, “Then you’d be miserable and heartbroken and, even worse, have to actually finish your trig homework. Besides, I enjoyed it.”

Your eyes brightened up at this, and you could tell he noticed, “Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. Your taste isn’t that bad… I mean, you hang out with me don’t you?”

“For some reason, yes,” you pretended to grumble, feigning ignorance of the butterflies in your stomach at his usual smug smile, “But you really liked it?”

He sat down in the seat opposite you now, pulling the book from his bag and slamming it down in front of you, “Well, I have notes of course.”

You rolled your eyes, at which he couldn’t help but laugh, “Hey, it wasn’t terrible. I did say I enjoyed it… Some of the notes are nice.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure.”

“You wound me,” Jess feigned a pout, “Romance isn’t usually my genre and you know that.”

“Of course. Hemingway fanboy is too cool for my sappy romantic books, huh,” you joked, heart still racing wildly at the notion he’d even started reading it, let alone finished it.

“Pfft. Austen fangirl should be less rude and give more Hemingway a try, I say,” he quipped back, tongue in cheek.

“Hey, I like Hemingway,” you shook your head, “I just don’t go to bed and jerk off over how great I think he is like you so obviously do.”

He shook his head and pulled a face that faked shock, “And how much time in the day, on average, would you say you spend thinking about what I jerk off over, huh?”

“You are such an ass,” you tutted, swatting his arm, “Approximately none, thank you very much.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“Anyway, if you’re done being gross, let’s get back to the important thing here. You read my book,” You reached to pull the book towards you, only for him to snatch it back and rest his elbows on it.

You furrowed your brows at him, “What’ve you got to hide in there?”

His eyes narrowed, his lip between his teeth now as though he was thinking hard about something.

“C’mon, Mariano,” you leaned forward, “I assumed that since you brought the book with you, I’d get to see at least some of your notes.”

His fingers were picking at the edges of the book’s cloth sleeve, his toes drumming on the floor anxiously like they’d recently begun to do more often when he was around you.

He heaved out a deep sigh, “Look. I’m going to give you this, and then I’m gonna leave the diner, alright? And then, and only then, you can open this book up, and you can read what’s in there. And if you never see me again it’s ’cause I’ve died of embarrassment or something. Got it?”

You rolled your eyes, chin on your palm.

He slid the book in your direction now as you watched him swallow thickly and cocked your head to the side like a curious puppy, “Ever so cryptic, aren’t you?”

“You’ll figure it out, Miss Marple.”

With that, he rose to his feet and darted out of the diner before you could even say another word.

You briefly made eye contact with Luke behind the counter, who watched you carefully for a moment before looking down at the book now carefully clutched between your fingers.

You wasted no time then, pulling open the book and desperately skimming for whatever the hell he was talking about.

You weren’t sure what on earth you expected to find when you flicked through its pages, but it most certainly wasn’t a plethora of sticky tabs with scrawled notes on about how the protagonist reminded him of you.

You expected even less, then, to find a note in Jess’ handwriting at the very back of the book declaring that he realised halfway through — when the two love interests whose relationship bore a crazy resemblance to your own, realised that they were in fact in love — that he’d been stupid to deny that he even liked you, let alone that he’d quite obviously fallen stupidly in love with you.

Shock coursed through you, your heart racing at the uncharacteristically romantic and yet somehow still so incredibly Jess gesture.

You stood up, almost knocking over your chair as you placed the book under your arm and turned to leave, “I’ll be back—uh, soon.”

Luke nodded, “Go get him kiddo.”

You smiled, butterflies whirling in your stomach as you left the diner almost as quickly as Jess had just minutes ago.

You knew exactly where you’d find him — perched on the bridge swinging his feet and letting his mind convince him you wouldn’t in a million years feel the same.

When he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching, you saw him clench his eyes shut as if in hope that he was imagining you and that you’d soon disappear.

“You can’t confess your love for me and then run away, Jess,” you bit your lip as you teased him softly, “It’s not fair not to give me a chance to say it back properly. You do get bonus points for how much of a romance novel cliché that move is, though.”

He sighed, a deep heavy sigh of relief, and it was as though suddenly he reverted to his usual self, “Technically the book confessed my love for you, actually. And the window for reciprocating hasn’t quite closed yet. I’m all ears, pretty girl.”

You loved this.

You loved how easy things always were for you with Jess.

Everything that went unspoken still never went unsaid — sure, you’d been flirtatious friends for a while now, uncertain of quite how seriously he reciprocated your feelings, but deep down you always sort of knew.

You loved that ever since he’d come to Stars Hollow, he’d shown that he cared in his own silly little ways.

And he loved you.

And you loved him.

You sat down at his side, still clutching the book tightly as he finally looked across at you with a small smile.

“You’re such a romantic, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you,” you nudged his side teasingly, “But I— Jess I do love you, and I’ve probably loved you for a long time even though I didn’t want to let myself admit it.”

“Wow, okay Mr Darcy… Wait ‘til Luke hears that the real reason you’ve only just told me that is because you think he’s embarrassing,” he mocked, but you felt him shuffle closer, “I’ve definitely loved you for longer than I thought I had too, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Much better, Miss Bennet,” you laughed, linking your arms and leaning against his shoulder as he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head.

You felt Jess’ chest rise and fall as you closed your eyes and let the sound of the stream beneath you wash over you.

“So, like, I don’t know the protocol with the whole ‘best friends to lovers’ trope like you do, so you’re gonna have to help me out here,” Jess chuckled.

You sat back up to look at him whilst still keeping hold of his arm, “Hmm, I think what’s meant to happen next is you kiss me and ask to take me on a real date. Pretty sure that’s right.”

“Right, everyone’s favourite cliche moment,” Jess rolled his eyes jokingly but cupped your face with his palms, “God, what have you done to me?”

“You looove me,” your response was muffled as he pressed his lips to yours to shut you up, at first gently and then with a touch more urgency.

When you pulled away, he let go of your face and smiled softly, “So about that date?”

“You got it, Mariano,” you grinned, kissing him quickly once more as you paused, “But you’re going to have a tough time doing anything as romantic as annotating my favourite book and writing me a love note, you know.”

He scoffed, “Oh I’ve got plenty more where that came from, Y/N.”

“Is that a threat?” you giggled, leaning back into his side.

“Just you wait and see.”

———

ok so i kinda lost my way with this a bit eventually and i’m sorry it’s quite short but i had sooooo much fun writing it. i love jess so fucking much and i’m so grateful for all the jess requests i get — trying v hard to work through them asap because it’s so fun.

thanks for reading! here’s my masterlist for more <3

#jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano #jess mariano x you #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano x reader #gilmore girls #gilmore girls imagines #gilmore girls imagine

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