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spnbabe67 · 2 months ago

Text

Just a Note

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of a little spicyness, mentions of injuries

Summary: When you start receiving little notes around the Bunker, you go on a hunt trying to find your secret admirer.

Word Count: 1600

Authors Note: This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa for @kazsrm67. This also fulfills squares for @jacklesversebingo and @anyfandomgoesbingo Happy Holidays everyone!

Jacklesverse Bingo Prompt: Secret Admirer

Any Fandom Goes Bingo Prompt: Head Wound

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tag List: @zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @king-of-milf-lovers

It started out as sticky notes placed strategically in places across the Bunker where only you would find them: on the mirror in your room, or on the stack of books you kept sequestered to a table in the corner of the library room. Various colors of square paper with little compliments, albeit a little awkward, scrawled across them. The first time you’d found one, a blue square tucked into the cubby where you kept your bug-out bag in the armory, you’d been caught off guard. The neon, stark against the muted brown and black and grey tones, had caught your eye as you went about replacing and checking the supplies you kept within your duffel. You plucked the paper from where it was nestled amongst the various weapons and supplies kept within, sitting in wait for the next hunt. As you gingerly pulled the sticky note from your bag, you noticed the scrawling words written across it in black ink.

You look sharper than these knives.

Your head cocked to the side, face contorted into a mixture of confusion and amusement. Was that meant to be a compliment? More importantly, who was it from? Aside from yourself, Sam and Dean both took up permanent residence in the Men of Letters Bunker. Charlie, your childhood best friend and the person who introduced you to the Winchester brothers and the hunting world in general also lived here 90% of the time. It could be here playing one of her many pranks. A few other hunters used this place as refuge between hunts or came here for the endless trove of supernatural knowledge archived within its walls. You’d even convinced Dean, despite his best efforts to ignore your pleas, to host a couple seminars and training sessions for newer (and seasoned) hunters using the knowledge you and Sam spent hours upon hours organizing.

“When I was first introduced to this world, I wish I’d had this kind of training available to me,” You’d reasoned with him one day in the kitchen. “I’d have a lot less scars and a lot less near death experiences if I had.”

The eldest Winchester, whom you’d grown close to in the months you’d worked with him, Sam, and the cabal of supernatural beings that they considered friends or at the very least occasional allies, leaned against the island with a mug of freshly brewed coffee in hand.

“I’m not sayin’ it’s a bad thing, Sweetheart.” Dean placated you, setting his mug on the counter. “All I’m sayin’ is that there’s more to it than just puttin’ flyers on the street. How would we even advertise somethin’ like this?”

You shrugged. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

And figure it out he had. With the help of Charlie and Sam, the four of you managed to create a strategically worded ad, spreading it to known hunters who would even be remotely interested. It had spread like wildfire from there. So it was very possible one of the hunters passing through had put it in your bag. Even that explanation didn’t quite fit, but at the time it was a one-off, a fluke to never happen again.

That was until another one showed up. You’d taken a blow to the head when a rogue shifter slammed you back into a wall, knocking you unconscious. Blearily you opened your eyes to the dim light of the Bunker’s infirmary. A dull ache throbbed at the back of your head as you looked around. The room was kept mostly dark save for a lamp in the corner. I must have a concussion, you thought as you sat up, the crisp white sheets crumpled on your lap. You had reached over to check the clock on the table next to the bed when you saw yet another Post-it stuck to the top of it. The paper was red this time, but the writing held the same characteristics of the first one.

You take my breath away.

Your eyes must have read the sentence a hundred times over, wracking your brain trying to figure out who in the Hell is leaving you these messages. Some rational part of you whispered there were really only two options. Sam or Dean. You knew it wasn’t Sam; your relationship with the younger brother was strictly familial. You’d never seen him as anything other than a younger brother, despite his protests that he was only 6 months younger than you.

Dean on the other hand was a different story. Sometimes he acted like you were another younger sibling for him to be responsible for, other times the tension between the two of you could be cut with the dullest knife. Lingering eyes as the three of you changed between or after hunts, his fingers trailing over your hair and tucking it behind your ear when he assumed you were dead asleep. You’d be lying if he was the only one giving mixed signals. It made sense. To anyone who didn’t know him, Dean was a casanova, a womanizer who took what he wanted and offered nothing. And sure, maybe he was that way in his early 20’s, but life and the work of a hunter had taken a toll on him. So while you and Sam partook in one night stands, it was Dean who usually ended the night alone.

You found the notes enduring, actually, and very in character for him. So from that moment in the infirmary, you compiled the notes and the occasional small gifts left for you. Once you were sure it was, in fact, Dean showering you in corny one liners and sweet nothings, you hatched a plan. You figured there were a couple ways to go about it. One: confront him head on, which he very well might deny all together in embarrassment. Two: let the notes continue to pile up, hopefully bottlenecking Dean into coming to you personally. Or three: beat him at his own game. Out of all of them, the third sounded the most fun.

Like a game of tag, the next time it was your turn to go on the supply run, you stopped by a Dollar Tree and grabbed a stack of Post-its. Unfortunately, they only had the plain and frankly ugly yellow ones, but they’d do. If you played your cards right, you shouldn’t need too many of them anyway. You snuck around the Bunker for nearly a week, leaving the Post-its in inconspicuous places as Dean had. The first one you’d left next to the decanter of water he kept by his bedside, calling him a tall drink of water. The next one was slid under his disassembled 1911 when he went to take a break. You giggled to yourself as you positioned it, reading the line you’d printed on it. Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

On the 7th day with no response from Dean, no change in behavior when the three (or four when Charlie came for dinner) of you went on hunts or stuck around the Bunker, you had started to lose hope. Maybe it was someone else and you’d read into the situation completely wrong. But something in your gut told you that you were barking up the right tree. Give it one last try, it seemed to say. So one last try it was. You’d know once and for all if it was Dean. You wrote the message that started it all on a sticky note, making sure Dean was in the kitchen before slinking off to the armory. All of you kept at least one bingo bag here, the main thing was finding which one was Dean’s. He kept his main pack in his room or in Baby’s trunk so it took some rooting around until you found the right one.

Just as you unzipped the bag, poised to place the sticky note against the blade of one of Dean’s hunting knives, a voice called out your name from behind you. You froze, your lips pressing into a thin line as a small cheeky smile started to form. You stood up, turning around to see Dean leaning against the door jam.

“Whatcha doin’ Sweetheart?” He asked innocently, but his tone and the smug look on his face was anything but.

“Nothin’.” You mumbled, suddenly a little sheepish. The plan didn’t involve you getting caught red handed. “You weren't supposed to catch me.”

“Figured as much.” He joked, crossing the space between you, plucking the Post-it from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own in a way that made your heart flutter a little faster than it already was.

“Asshole.” You huffed equally as teasing,watching him look at the sticky note, reading your chicken scratch.

You were both silent as Dean’s eyes met yours, his cheeks tinged a bit pink. You were sure your own were as well as you suddenly felt the urge to hide from his observing gaze.

“So,” Dean breathed. “What now?”

Ever the gentleman, you thought. Giving you the option to back out, to deny this thing between you both even though he’d quite literally caught you leaving a flirtatious note in his bag. You let your hand drift forward, hesitantly finding his own. You intertwined your fingers, feeling his callouses brush your own as you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I think now, you need to start sayin’ those things to me in person, not just on paper.” You gave him a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart.”

#jacklesversebingo2024 #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural dean #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x female!reader

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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And Let Me Love You Anyway [ part two of two ]

part one: Tell Me Every Terrible Thing

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader -> hair color specified reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

"Alicent, we're late," you sighed with a frown, wiping your sweaty palms nervously as your necklace was latched in place and perfume spritzed on your pulse points. YES - that included your ankles.

"That's the point, sister, we're supposed to be late. It sends a message."

Your eyes rolled, snipping, "The King will not be pleased. I am not his wife, he can get angry at me, you know!"

"He'll manage," she snapped, glancing at Talya. She continued, "He dismissed Father for telling him a truth he would rather ignore. So much so, after years of service, he'd - "

"Yes, yes, the King removed Father as Hand, sent him back home," you nodded with understanding. "But we both know how he feels about his daughter, The Princess! The rumors circulating would cost him his life in the end, we are lucky he was only sent home!"

"Rumors! Rumors, sister, truly!? Tell me, do you think Father lied?"

"I know he didn't."

"Exactly why we're late to tonight's affair," she huffed, fixing her hair in the mirror again. "It's a statement, it's deliberate. We will stand out, prove we are not happy with the turn of events. Why offer Rhaenyra blind respect when she continues to do as she pleases - regardless of consequences."

You paused, sensing her anger brewing and trying to distract, "You know, Ser Lyonel Strong is not a bad replacement for Father."

"This is not about Ser Strong."

"Isn't it? Father's served long and faithfully, but perhaps it is time for a new guidance. Lyonel Strong is a smart man - qualified, even!"

"Yes," she agreed, turning to face you in a shimmering emerald gown. "But this is still an injustice to our family that I fear I cannot overlook any longer. It's been weeks..."

"Yes," you allotted, nodding with a sigh. "All right, yes, you are right, sweet sister. This is all just - it's a lot to take in, to try and digest. And we talk of playing a game with the Throne - I do not think we've the strength to endure alone."

"This is not about Lyonel Strong, sister! It's about Father and the disrespect the Crown continues to offer. Remember that," she advised softly.

You nodded, "I know, sister."

She frowned, "And remember... They aren't our kin. Despite previous displays of kindness, the Targaryens have made it clear that we are not family to them. They are not blood to us, sister; they will protect their own, not us. If we wish to survive, we will need to ally ourselves."

"I understand," you told your younger sister. "I am not arguing, I know what our reality is now - I merely implore to explore the routes that won't label us as traitors."

"I know, we have much to discuss going forward. But none of that for now," she took a long breath, smiling as she looked you up and down, complimenting, "you look stunning. Truly, you might outshine the bride tonight."

"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that, and that The Princess has a mature bone in her body - though I do not hold out hope." You smiled at her, "But enough about me, you look - you look like a Queen, sister-dearest. Gods, you're gorgeous, you look just like Mummy." The two of you shared an emotional, watery smile; embracing tightly as reality settled in your guts: it was you two Hightower Ladies against the whole of the Targaryen clan. "Come," you decided, taking a deep breath, "are we ready to go? Any later and I fear we might not get any cake."

"Oh, you and cake," she smirked, looking you over in a matching emerald, lighter-weight gown that had layers of thin fabrics clinging and dripping from your form. Golden jewelry was clasped around both your necks, wrists, tight around your fingers, and plugged into your ear piercings.

The Queen took your arm and left the dressing chambers you took refuge in, coming to a gasping halt when you were greeted by a well-groomed man in green velvet. "Father," Alicent exclaimed in shock.

"My daughters," he smiled, offering both arms, "I do believe we are now fashionably late. Hmm?"

"Exactly as we intended," you mused, taking his arm. "How is this possible? How are you here?"

"I was invited, if you believe that," Otto answered, the three of you walking slowly. "Though, I suspect your sister had something to do with that?"

"I only told Viserys I'd be deeply offended if you were ignored for this event," Alicent quipped.

"None the less, I am happy to escort my daughters to such a historic event," he spoke diplomatically, aware of the guards and servants milling around. Otto lead the way to the Throne Room - where you could hear King Viserys' echoing speech from the foyer.

None of you spoke, approaching the open doors and pausing to let everyone see the united Hightowers. Alicent wore her dark auburn locks pulled back from her face to cascade in thick ringlets down her back, your own Hightower-red hair left down around your face with the longer locks pinned off your neck. The entire room - the entire court - all wedding attendees and royal procession stared at you three in shock for entering during the King's speech. Your statement was clearly made.

Even from this distance, you could see how startled Rhaenyra was by your arrival, needing to fight off a smirk of amusement in order to keep your neutral façade.

You and Alicent walked arm-in-arm with your father, the once-Hand, down the stairs and up the aisle of banquet tables full of people, staring forward and giving no emotion away. The people buzzed in quiet gossip. The attending Hightowers of Oldtown, sitting closest to the royal banquet table because of their relation to the current Queen, stood first; everyone else following in a show of respect.

You and Alicent paused to let Otto sit with his relatives at the lower banquet table before joining arm-and-arm together. Over the muttering of the entire room, you whispered almost mutely, "Be kind, remain composed, we'll kill 'em with kindness."

Alicent gave a subtle flex to give indication she understood.

When you looked up at the table you approached under the King's heavy glare, you noticed there was an empty chair between Ser Strong and... Prince Daemon? Was that really him? When did he get here? Why was he back? It's only been a few weeks!

Your shock did not slow you, and as you approached the table reserved for the Royal Family, you saw Daemon smirking at your theatrics. Alicent did not let you part from her side as she greeted Princess Rhaenyra with a sickly-sweet voice, "Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you."

She ignored any other reaction to let go of your arm, kiss her husband's cheek in greeting, stand beside him, in front of her chair, and stare forward with zero other emotion.

"Congratulations, Princess," you whispered, bowing your head. "Your Grace," you acknowledged, doing the same and taking the empty chair between Lord Hand and Rogue Prince only to stoically stare forward in silence. You did as Alicent did, not looking at any other, and just waiting for a pregnant moment that seemingly never ended.

"Please be seated," Viserys finally permitted, everyone sitting at his behest. He cleared his throat, whispering to Lyonel Strong, "Where was I?"

"The joining of the two Houses, Your Grace."

You swallowed when a warm hand laid on your right thigh, Viserys continuing his speech. You glanced at Daemon, seeing his smirk, and instead of throwing his hand off you, you laid your own over his to give a long squeeze. You had wrestled with the idea of his favorite whore, Mysaria, and the idea of whatever he did with Princess Rhaenyra for weeks. Then when you heard word that his wife, Lady Rhea Royce, had met her untimely end, you knew he was involved, yet said nothing. You could only think deeply about what it all meant - and how you fit into the equation that was Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Tell me every terrible thing you ever did...

All you could understand was the overwhelming affection you held for him. His shocked-wide-eyes found yours for a long moment, seeming communicating telepathically - you telling him you wanted him. His hand tightened to keep hold of yours, hidden from the public for the time being.

And let me love you anyway...

You tuned back into the King's speech in time to clap with the others, showing your support of the union you technically helped influence between Targaryen and Velaryon.

However, you caught the way Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, sighing to yourself; having heard through long private dinners what Alicent came to know and why this upset her so much. How strange to learn Ser Criston Cole admitted to Ali that he was coerced into soiling the Princess' purity - not her Uncle Daemon, like rumored. Yet none the less, the girl had sworn on her beloved, dearly departed mother to Alicent that she was still a maiden... A huge, glaring lie - that both you and Ali took personally.

You found all of this terribly interesting, yet did not let the distain show so boldly. After Daemon came to you in confession, you had yet to speak a word outside of public politeness to the Princess; feeling betrayed by what your lover had told you. He had been right: you were Rhaenyra's friend, she wasn't yours. So, you demoted yourself to create distance.

When the drums rumbled and the Princess took to the dance floor with her intended, you spared Daemon a look and muttered, "You do not have to look so annoyed."

"I'm not, sweet one."

"Nor so amused," you tacked on.

Daemon smirked at you, leaning in and pondering, "I am only wondering if you would care for a dance later, my Lady?"

You lied, speaking in a teasing tone, "I'm not one for dancing, my Prince."

"A single dance with me, then. Just one, pretty lady."

"You're pushy," you whispered, nudging him to keep quiet; but the grin on your lips assured him you were completely enraptured by his antics.

He sat back with a smirk, watching his niece and her fiancé dance. The entire courtroom clapped at the end, others flooding to the spaces around them. You glanced over as your sister stood from her seat, meeting your eyes and offering only a soft smile before descending from the table to approach your aunt and uncle from Oldtown - standing with your father on the side of the room. You sighed under your breath, your lover tightening his grip on your thigh.

Daemon made for a great distraction. "Did you hear the news?" He asked softly, reaching for his goblet of wine with his free hand.

"Which news would that be, my Prince?" You asked casually, pretending your heart wasn't hammering in your chest.

"Of my dear wife's passing."

"I did, actually," you fought off your smirk. "I am truly sorry to hear of it, I understand Lady Rhea was truly one of a kind. You shouldn't speak ill of the dead, love," you reminded in a whisper.

"Hmm. Don't be sorry, I'm not," he eased.

"You're not? Your wife died, Daemon..."

"I know," he met your gaze, "I'm not sorry because now it gives me vocation to follow my own desires."

You smirked, "Which desire will you follow first?"

His hand tightened to a bruising grip. He was not able to answer yet because your gaze was caught by movement, Rhea Royce's cousin approaching slowly, evidently a cup or two deep in the wine; making you remove Daemon's hand so you both could sit casually - without touching.

The man gruffly leered at Daemon, "In the Vale, men are made to answer for their crimes." Your lover spared you an exasperated look as he tacked on, "Even Targaryens."

"Who are you?" Daemon asked dully.

"This is Ser Gerold Royce, my Prince," you told him softly, "of Runestone."

Daemon perked his brow, asking sarcastically, "An excellent show of your knowledge, my sweet lady, but what does that matter to me?"

You didn't answer, Ser Lyoel Strong (who was listening in) didn't answer, because Ser Gerold was approaching the table by climbing the stairs. He growled at Daemon, "I am cousin to your late Lady wife."

"Ah, yes... Terrible thing," Daemon offered. "I'm positively bereft. Such a tragic accident."

"You know better than anyone, it was no accident."

Through a smirk, Daemon quipped, "Are you confessing some guilt, Ger Gerold?"

"I am making an accusation."

You shared a look with Lyonel to your left, catching sight of the King's turned head - showing he was listening, too. Daemon easily deflected, "Here, in King's Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders. Even old bronze cunts like you." This angered Ser Gerold visibly, the man stepping closer, but obviously restrained himself. Your lover continued, "The truth is I'm glad you've come. I wish to speak to you about my inheritance."

"What inheritance?" Ser Gerold demanded.

"Lady Rhea and I had no heirs. As her husband, whatever she was due now passes to me. She stood to inherit all of Runestone. Did she not?" Daemon had Ser Gerold pinned by legality, the man looking disturbed by his own realization. So, naturally, Daemon taunted, "After my niece's wedding, I plan to fly to the Eyrie and petition Lady Jeyne myself. Perhaps I'll see you there, Ser Gerold."

The man sheepishly walked away, his inebriated mind whirling with possibilities. You glared, pinching Daemon's arm so you could scold him when he turned to face you, "That wasn't very kind."

"And?"

"You don't truly care for Runestone," you snapped. "Now that man will fear for his home, fret over the laws, and that's not very nice."

He sighed, "What would you have me do, sweet one?"

"Leave House Royce to grieve and rearrange their succession without your pettiness."

Daemon smirked, "Whatever my Lady wants."

"You're dreadfully annoying tonight, do you know that?" You whined. "I'm going for a dance, and no, this is not an invitation to follow," you warned him - albeit playfully - before standing to excuse yourself.

"Sister," Alicent paused you before you could pass her by. "Are you well?"

"Yes, yes, just felt like dancing, too much energy to just sit. Come join - "

"No, no, I should sit. Eat," she smiled. "Perhaps tonight will be when you meet your match and we can plan another wedding."

"Perhaps," you mused, squeezing her hand. "You all right? What did Father and Uncle say?"

"Later," she whispered. "Go on, go."

You joined the stream of people dancing, instantly grinning when you were welcomed joyfully by different suitors. The band played a lively beat, the crowd cheering in rhythm; you being twirled around men and women with matching grins.

You heard your name being cheered through a small giggle.

"Hi, Princess," you greeted Rhaenyra as you both marched along to the beat. You reminded yourself this was all a game and if you wanted to survive, you'd have to play your part strategically. So, you quipped as you danced with Ser Arryn Blackwell, "Nice party you've got, huh?"

"Oh, you know how we Targaryens do," she teased. "Where've you been lately? I feel as if I've hardly seen you."

"Just busy with chores since Father was replaced as Hand," you answered, spinning under someone's arm.

Nyra didn't comment on that, instead, waiting a few moments before complimenting, "That's a beautiful dress, really goes with your hair!"

"That's what I hoped for," you gasped girlishly, deciding to play nice when she reached for your hands. You felt weak for a moment, but the truth was, you missed your friend... So, you might've giggled a bit when you joined hands, dancing together instead of with anyone else. With kindness, you offered, "You look gorgeous, as well, Princess, I love this dress - "

"Yes, yes, we all look fantastic," Daemon interrupted abruptly, crowding over you, asking quickly, "can I speak to you a moment, my Lady? The Princess won't mind, right, Rhaenyra?"

"Uh, no, I guess..." She eyed the two of you with suspicion as she stayed in-beat with the music.

"Daemon, not now - "

"We need to talk," he pulled you from where you danced, glancing back at the head banquet table as he took your hand, and lead you deeper into the crowd. He turned you to face him, pacing a small circle around you, demanding, "Do you still want to marry me?"

"What? Why are you asking now?"

"Because I just asked your father for permission," he seethed, pausing in front of you, "and he outright refused, saying he's negotiating with the fucking Lannisters. I need to know what you want."

"I was not aware what I wanted mattered to you, the man who views marriage as a political arrangement," you eyed him with a curled lip of annoyance.

"What arrangement could I want? Your sister is Queen, my family is bound to the Hightowers already. My political marriage is recently dissolved, I am free to do as I please, regardless of what others want or say - "

"Then tell me what you want. Tell me plainly what you want from me, Daemon, no more pretty words and veiled truths. Be plain."

"You said I had a year, and look - it's been weeks. Weeks, my love, how much more plain can I be? I'm here, now, free to marry, and I need to know if you still want to marry me. I'll marry you tomorrow - "

"Oh, please! Would you steal me away?" You mocked with a chuckle. "Take me to Dragonstone? Make me your little wife that you'll come to resent, too? Just as you did Rhea?"

He reached out to aggressively hold your cheek and jaw. "I had no choice in my first marriage, I could never come to resent you - you're all I've ever wanted. I'd do anything for you," Daemon snarled over your lips, "including risking your father's wrath. I'd do anything to make sure we end up together, you are my heart - do not forget that."

"Then pull out your sword, cut them all down," you purred, feeling his hand tighten, "and claim me as your own - do not let anyone stop us."

His lips hovered over yours, breathing the same air, and before he could respond or kiss you, a woman screamed shrilly from behind you. Daemon instantly latched onto your body as a crowd formed to your left and right, and when you both looked, you were shocked to see the commotion happening at your feet.

"Love - "

"Daemon," you paused him, shocked as Ser Criston Cole was engaged in a fist fight with some Velaryon knight before Ser Laenor Velaryon, the groom, was tackling him to the side. What an interesting display of protectiveness from Ser Laenor over his knight.

Daemon rushed in your ear, "Do not look - come away with me."

"Wait," you held his hands to your waist, letting him crowd into your back as Cole had punched Laenor to the side and straddled the blonde on the floor once more.

He landed one blow before the knight was brandishing a dagger; but the White Cloak caught his arm and easily snapped it broken, startling the crowd. Beyond your ring of spectators, other men were trading blows and engaged in their own fights; total chaos taking over the whole of the Throne Room. You flinched back into Daemon's embrace when Cole screamed like a wild man in the mountains, repeatedly pounding his fist into the knight's face; literally caving it in, creating a human minced meat pie.

Someone better contact Mrs. Lovett!

"No more," Daemon decided, Cole rearing himself back as Daemon stooped to heave you over his shoulder. He was able to find safe (enough) passage through the people, approaching the royal banquet table. "Hey, hey," he whispered, setting you down and taking your face in his hands, the wailing of Laenor Velaryon seeing his murdered knight echoing in the Throne Room. "You all right? You hurt? Look at me, love, are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm okay," you whispered, swallowing unsurely; reaching up to hold his wrists. "I'm okay."

"Sure? You shouldn't have seen that - "

"It's all right," you assured, stroking his wrists. "I'm okay, Daemon, truly. Just... A little startled, maybe?"

"What's this then?" Harwin Strong smirked, panting lightly from his rescue mission as the Princess was attending her father, the King. "You two hit it off then, yeah? Is it me or are sparks flying?"

"Something like that," you whispered, trying to regulate your breathing after the adrenaline-inducing scrimmage.

"Easy does it, love," Daemon whispered, keeping you close as you didn't let go of his hands; wanting to stay connected. He told Harwin, giving a half-shrug, "They aren't sparks. She's everything to me."

"Perhaps your second wedding will go better than this one," Harwin sighed, hands on his hips.

"In some cultures, deaths at a wedding are considered good luck," you muttered, Daemon snorting lightly in amusement before running his thumbs over your cheekbones in soothing gestures.

"Didn't your wife just pass, Prince Daemon?" Your father demanded publicly with a heavy glare. "You'd offer insult to her memory by remarrying so quickly?"

"I've grieved Lady Rhea plenty, Ser Hightower, it's time to look to the future," Daemon declared, eyes daring your father to challenge him. "The Lady Hightower and I will wed. The sooner, the better, in truth."

And history would never be the same.

"What?" Rhaenyra demanded, whirling around at the news, making all others pause in confusion. "What did you say?"

"That I intend to marry the Lady Hightower."

"Her? Her? Fucking her - who is more prude than woman?!"

Well, that was mildly offensive...

"Rhaenyra - "

"What makes you think you're worthy?" She demanded of you, turning from her father to stalk across the platform. "Worthy of a man like Daemon, of a husband like Daemon? You've done nothing to - to deserve such a title! The title of Princess, of wife!"

You were honestly confused to your core.

"I deserve a man like he - not someone like you!" She continued, shocking the group as the Kingsguard cleared the Room of any lingering stragglers to keep this as private as possible. "You think I didn't see you on my tour? You were fawned over, all wanted to talk with you, but were forced to line up for me! You rejected them all on your own, and now I see why! You wanted to wait until the Lady Rhea passed, which makes me wonder - what part did you play in that?"

"Rhaenyra!" You gasped.

"What? Honestly, it would make sense - the day Daemon's banished, you weren't seen! I wouldn't be shocked if you were seen somewhere lurking in the Vale! You cannot have it all - you've always wanted my life, and now look! You have to have what I have, and now you've taken a liking to my uncle after our scandal! What? He wasn't interesting before? You heard rumors about us and decided you wanted him for yourself? Just because he was mine first? You just want to be me, you always have - you've always reeked of jealousy! This is all you wanted, to steal my family, and - "

"That's enough," Daemon tried. "You are out of turn here, Rhaenyra, do not make this worse."

"Why? Because little Lady Hightower's façade of being a respectable, pure woman is now tarnished?"

"We share one dance, albeit intimate, sit next to each other at a single dinner, shared some conversation, and you now think it's appropriate to call my virtue into question? What of your own, Princess? You just admitted to scandal with Daemon - but I wonder why the service of Moon Tea if your virtue was unimpeachable?" You demanded, feeling defensive on a new level. Even Alicent straightened up at your words.

However, Daemon rushed to add, "With all due respect, Princess, I don't want you, and you can't claim me as your own when you never had me. You might be angry, but it is no use to take it out on my intended, she is of rare stock and breed - she will not be questioned. Nor will my intentions with her."

Rhaenyra snarled, "Yeah? You don't want me? Well, you wanted me enough to try and fuck me at that whorehouse!"

There were gasps and murmurs all around, but Rhaenyra was glaring at you and Daemon, still standing together. His arms actually dropped to hold your waist, keeping you close as he snarled at his niece, "But I didn't. If memory serves right, I walked away!"

"You wanted me!" Rhaenyra raged. "You always were and always will be mine - regardless of the whores you bed in the meantime! And I want you, I am not yet married - "

"Yet I will not be who marries you, I am betrothed to another," Daemon reminded with a venomous tone. "There's nothing you offer that I want, Rhaenyra."

"I am not some inexperienced little girl anymore, I'm a woman grown, and I could do more for you than she ever could!"

"Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared.

Everyone knew she had gone too far and there was no coming back from any this. After a beat, Alicent stepped in as if questioning for the first time, "And yet, sister, you said the Princess was served Moon Tea? If Prince Daemon did not touch the Princess, does this mean she still," she scoffed as if the idea were absurd, "sullied her maidenhood? Before marriage?"

It should be noted that Ser Criston Cole was already gone from the hall at this time. In fact, he lingered just outside a side door, listening, in case his name came up. When Alicent spoke, he straightened up and started the slow trek to the Godswood.

"Ser Lyonel? Do I misunderstand?" Alicent pulled the Hand into the fray.

"Well, that's what that would sound like, Your Grace," he agreed begrudgingly. "Moon Tea is beneficial to prevent unwanted consequences outside of marriage."

"From what I understand, she was served by Grand Maester Mellos himself," you told Ali, minds strung together by a common thread. "The castle likes to gossip, you can learn a lot if you just listen."

"This is..." Viserys seethed, "Unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," you instantly apologized.

"No, no," he deflected, hand held up, "you have a duty to the Realm to flesh out any deception. And this," he directed his glare at his daughter, "is a grand deception that cannot be undone, unknown, covered-up, anymore, Rhaenyra!"

There was a meltdown. Everyone began yelling.

Viserys was enraged. Rhaenyra was desperately trying to plead with her father. Lord Corlys was demanding to know what the hell was about to happen with the impending marriage to "the future Queen". Ser Strong was trying to keep the people from each other's throats.

His sons stood to the side and just let them all fight.

Daemon kept you out of the line of fire, away from the action; sighing as you deflated into his chest. Over it all, Viserys' voice was angriest, and you heard, "You are no daughter of mine! The position you have put me in tonight - I cannot undo this, Rhaenyra! I should have never disinherited Daemon for you, breaking centuries of tradition because I wanted to see your mother in you! You have spat in my face around every bend, but this? This is unforgivable, we will not recover from this and I will no longer endure your insolence!"

"Father, please, let me - "

"No," he snarled, "I have had it with your disresepct the past several years, this is beyond any scale." You blinked up at Daemon, his lips curving down as his hands tightened around your form. And then, Viserys said the words, "I made a mistake naming you my heir. You may marry Ser Laenor, if you so choose to, but after that, you will reside on Driftmark with your husband - you will no longer inherit the Iron Throne after me."

"Father!"

"No," he snapped, "you've exhausted my patience, Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared. "And while Daemon might be unpredictable, the woman he wants to marry is not - and from where I am standing, she will make a far better Queen than you!"

It was quiet as everyone forgot their own selfish woes as father disinherited daughter.

"Your Grace," your father tried to step in, "with respect, why not place your son, Aegon, in line after you?"

"Oh, for the love of the Gods, Otto," Rhaenyra raged, rounding on your father, "give up this campaign, you get all you want and more! Your daughter is Queen now and your other daughter will be Queen after that, aren't you listening? Your grandchildren will still inherit the Throne!"

"That's it," Viserys breathed, needing to hold onto the banquet table for balance as all eyes turned to him again. "It's time to do what I should've done all along. Rhaenyra," he shook his head, "I can no longer have you as my heir, this type of behavior cannot stand. I will give you permission to marry Ser Laenor, and if he chooses not to, I will allow you to reside on Dragonstone until a match is made. Until then," his eyes shifted to where you and Daemon stood, "I name my brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen, as my Heir to the Iron Throne."

"You would not name your son?" Alicent asked in mild disbelief.

"No," Viserys told her, "no, I would see my brother as my heir. Should Aegon prove to live up to his namesake, we can talk about succession again, but I know my brother is capable... And though he might be overly wanting, he will learn patience, because I know the love of a good woman can change a man for the better."

You smiled, feeling emotional for a moment, but Daemon asked for you both, "Brother, do you mean to give your blessing?"

"Of course," he nodded once, "why waste a good wedding tourney? We shall announce on the morrow our new intentions - to crown Daemon as heir and marry him to the Lady Hightower. This matter," he panted, glaring at everyone, "is resolved, I will not hear more. Make the preparations!"

It happened in slow motion. Rhaenyra's rage flared to a temperamental height previously unknown; lunging to seize her father's Valyrian Steel, prophesy-engraved dagger, turn, and charge straight for you as the remaining audience shouted in panic. You felt Daemon try to push you behind him, but instead, your own temper flared and you stepped up to meet Rhaenyra; catching both her arms to hold her at bay.

Daemon was at your flank if you needed him, otherwise, he kept the Kingsguard away from you two - knowing this needed to happen now. Or else something worse would happen later...

"For fuck's sake, Princess! What is this? Jealousy? Huh?" You asked through your tears, struggling to hold your old friend's weight away from you. "What is this jealousy, Nyrie, hmm?"

"Don't call me that," she grit. You just sighed, pushing her back a little but not enough to overpower her; the girl's anger making her stronger than you would've previously guessed. "You've gone too far," she seethed through tears.

“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the Kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please! Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"You think you finally get my life, huh?" She snarled. "You won't ever be accepted - not as Queen - not as part of this family! You've wanted this all along! Haven't you!?" She struggled against you, hands sweating. "You've always wanted my life, that's why you stuck around! Your mother died - so you tried to take a place in my family, make them yours - and now, look! You're nearly there! Pouncing on my uncle the moment he's widowed!" She snarled, bearing her teeth.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are, Nyrie," you whispered with a broad smirk.

"You aren't fit to play this part! To have my life! You'll never be accepted as their Princess!"

"I wager I'll do a better job than you ever could," you hissed. "There's not much to live up to, you don't leave a lot of room to fill."

She screamed when Ser Harwin's arms seized around her waist, but the momentum of him pulling her back and Rhaenyra's thrashing cause the Valyrian Steel dagger to slice your forearm. You yelped and reared back amongst the startled gasps and panicked murmurs from the crowd, Daemon catching you. The dagger clattered to the floor as Harwin backed up several paces to keep the belligerent girl at bay. You whimpered quietly at the sting, a pool of blood forming to the side you held your arm at.

"Fuck's sake," Daemon growled, "lemme see, lemme see, my love, c'mere," he winced, looking around before using his own belt to yank free and tourniquet around your lower elbow. "You're bleeding a good bit," he whispered, "you'll need stitches, sweet one."

You pouted at him, wincing again in pain when he tightened the belt.

Around you, the Kingsguard was ordered to escort Rhaenyra to her chambers, and the moment she was marched out of sight, Daemon was warning his brother that she knew about her secret passage door and parts of the tunnels.

Go stand watch," a personal guard was ordered by the King. "Someone go - go find Ser Cole - I want him posted in the Princess' passage, he's trusted to us."

Alicent slunk off to do exactly that, and she'd tell you later that Cole was found only moments from taking his own life. He was overjoyed to hear the King had requested him personally to stand guard for such a sensitive situation.

In the meantime, Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, thought it best their son not marry Rhaenyra; now that she had been disowned, she was less appealing. Viserys was free to offer her again later if Laenor was not married in that time and if she showed true change, but after tonight, nobody thought that possible.

Daemon tried helping your wound, your father approaching as he laid a clean cloth over the cut. Your lover tisked, "It's deeper than I thought. We should get this looked at."

"A moment," Otto prevented.

"If it would please you, this is not an injury I'd like to wait to attend to," Daemon sighed, nodding at your bloodied forearm that he held.

"I only meant to say, you have my blessing to marry, my Prince," Otto nodded at him. "Seeing the kindness you show my daughter, I feel... Content knowing she will be loved and cared for."

"Thank you," Daemon nodded.

"Yes, thank you, Father, but we really must be going, this doesn't feel very nice," you rushed to explain, watching him nod and eye your injury with worry.

"This way," He even instructed, a few handmaids rushing forward to help herd you away.

"Doing all right, love?" Daemon muttered as you walked.

"Bit shocked," you admitted.

"I'd say," he mused.

"It burns," you pouted at him.

"We'll get everything tended to, you'll feel better soon," he soothed.

You peaked up at his worried brow, pouted lips, darting eyes; whispering, "You're heir, again, Daemon."

"So it would seem," he deadpanned. "Can we not talk about it now?" He requested quietly, "I only wish to see to this wound of yours."

You nodded, and once in Mellos' chamber, you were left alone with your father - since Daemon was not yet your husband. Otto was silent as your forearm was stitched carefully; the bleeding staunched, herbs stuffed in the wound to prevent pain and promote healing. As you let Mellos wrap you in gauze, you glanced at your father.

"So... Your blessing, is it?"

"He's different with you already," he nodded stiffly. "And after his nieces' display tonight, I can think of no better future Queen."

"I do not wish to talk about future station, Father, but instead, that... That Daemon makes me happy and I am relieved you have given us your blessing. It would've felt very wrong to marry without my father in attendance."

Otto wasn't affectionate in the least bit, but he showed his love by doing his best to understand situations before passing judgement. It created a sense of trust and security between father and daughter. So, he asked earnestly, "And you will overlook what he did with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"He told me of it all the morning after it happened, I've had time to think, and I've had time away from him. I know what I want, Father, and while Viserys has changed history - again - tonight by naming Daemon heir, I know he is the man I want for the rest of my life."

"I see," he nodded. "Then... By all means, I will see this union happen."

"Thank you," you whispered, the Maester tying the gauze. "Thank you, Grand Maester," you spoke calmly.

"Of course, uh, um, Princess."

"I don't think I'll get used to hearing that," you whined, standing off his table. "Will you talk to Daemon for me, Father? I think you need to clear the air... I will not say the King will instill you as Hand again, but if I am to marry the Prince, I will need there to be peace between our families."

He nodded, opening the door for you, "It will be arranged, my daughter..."

As Otto took his leave, Daemon, pacing the hall, approached you. He took hold of your waist, asking, "Are you all right?" You let him hold your injured wrist in a soft grip, viewing the wrappings.

"Yes, Your Grace," you teased, watching his pale face flush.

"Don't start with that."

"Mellos just called me Princess."

"You are," he grinned. "And we will be married in less than a week's time."

"I can hardly wait," you whispered, letting his lips find yours in a searing show of rare public affection.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

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crepezinhos · 2 months ago

Text

Out of Reach

POV: You’d never think a few small talks every now and then and effortless circus perfomances would spark such a passionate fan like him, especially when your differences segregated you two so much.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is an angsty SFW Oneshot (not proofread)

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— AU is: 1910s

— Vet!Character x Performer!Reader

— This is a multifandom work. Characters/Fandoms included are clarified down below and in tags too.

Imagine you and him, who work together in circus, the kind that resides in a train and perform from city to city. You’re a ballerina, a professional dancer, who performs with an elephant as a partner, and him, who’s been recently recruited as a vet to take care of it.

He isn’t even professional. He’s a poor man who attempted veterinary school but couldn’t handle the expenses, so he gave up and ran way from his urban life, but he still does a professional job just for you.

He doesn’t double check before you straddle the elephant, he triple-checks, quadruple-checks, and even more if it means you’ll be ok and that the elephant won’t ever have a panick attack. That’s also why he refuses to use physical punishment with it. He not only has a tremendous empathy for animals in the first place, but he also views that elephant as a sacred relic blessed by your talent and beauty. He will wake up in the middle of the night to make sure the elephant is sleeping well, he will brush every little corner of the elephant’s enormous body with multiple layers of soap, he’ll assure its little accessories and makeup are perfectly done… everything in the name of you.

How could those amused faces in the crowd not make a line for your autograph after your performances? He’d proudly be the first one on it.

He’s your secret biggest fan.

He watches every show of yours.

No matter if he has duties to do.

He’ll always find a way to sneak out or have a colleague cover for him, and watch you from a far, isolated corner in the crowd, hidden in the shadows. Even if he’s anxious and afraid you might fall or embarrassingly trip and twist an ankle when you’re standing on the elephant’s back, his eyes cannot stop admiring you.

The thrill… the beauty… the music… the costume… the dance… the art.

No matter how many times he’s watched that repeated set of actions, for him, you somehow always make something ‘new’ that make hai actions widen.

How could all the other performers only shower you with shallow compliments?

“You did really well!”

“Nice job!”

“Great performance today!”

You deserve more than just those words. You deserve someone kissing your feet, you deserve a group of maids massaging your back, you deserve a man waiting for you to get home so he can take care of your every need.

And that’s why he finally broke his own limits.

That’s why his feet were moving so quickly in your direction, breathing almost uncontrolled, for some reason fearing that you’d somehow disappear if he didn’t reach you in time, fearing that someone would say what he had to say to you first and make his words lose meaning.

You looked hypnotizing even when you were just sitting on top of a random crate. The moonlight making your jewelry and glossy eyes sparkle like a diamond and your dress accentuating your fine curves… he desperately desired to watch you from a close distance, but he knew that’d reasonably creep you out.

“Y/N.” His whole body shivered as he pronounced your name after so many days without saying it to you.

Your zoned-out face finally seemed to be brought back to reality with his figure standing some inches away from you, but as soon as you paid attention to him, your nose couldn’t help but detect the smell.

He works with your dear elephant, and that means he needs to clean the kilograms of rotting shit it eliminates of its body and carry it out of the train. The lack of access to showers makes the smell stick to his every cell of his body like a parasite, a fucking leech that always made your expressions of him be low for any situation that wasn’t veterinary. Especially considering his constant timid behavior, he looked like nothing but a random loser to you.

And he obviously couldn’t help but remember all the others reasons why you’d feel disgusted to him when he looked at a mirror. His calloused hands due to manual labour, the dirt under the tip of his nails, his oily and unwashed hair, the dust, feces and dirt spread around his body and his clothes, which probably had already became permanent stains at this point, his yellowish teeth, his tired eyes, and that stupid fly that has been annoyingly following him and hanging around his space for these last minutes.

No matter if he had a cute face behind all those layers of grubbiness and unsanitary life conditions.

That’s why you flinched away, and your hand immediately moved to pinch your nose and stop your nasals to absorb and taste his smell.

Oh.

How could he forget?

How could he forget that he has no chance with you? How could he allow himself to walk so confidently to you as if he was your closest friend? Or as if you cared about what he had to say?

Perhaps… was your performance tonight what made him feel this way? This delusional? Was that how much you inspired him? Well, he should just disappear now, shouldn’t he? He’s a bother, isn’t he?

You immediately gasped and put your hand on top of your mouth as soon as you realized your wrong and saw his excited face die in a blink and become embarrassed due to that.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” You stood up, trying to make your apology seem more genuine and respectful, but he immediately fought you back.

“No, no. It’s ok.” No matter how genuine his smile looked, he couldn’t make eye contact with you anymore, and that made your heart ache in regret. “I understand.” He reached a hand to the back of his neck and begun scratching it as a way to control himself as he prepared to organize his confession.

He bit his inferior lip for a few seconds, and you made sure to wait if that meant he’d forgive your attitude.

“I just wanted to say that…” He had to pause again if he didn’t want to pass out. “Your performance was absolutely mesmerizing tonight.” The gentle tone and sway of his voice towards your ears made your heart ache even more for him.

He felt afraid of course, but every syllable pronounced was vital. How could he be 100% honest to you when that’s how you reacted to his presence? But he still somehow dearly hoped his determination would mean something to you. That your artistic mind could interpret his choice of words and perhaps remember that moment for the next years.

How could you treat your own vet like that?! After all the work he does for your elephant, that’s how you treat him as? After all those small talks you two shared throughout those months? And considering those small talks were centered around you, it made you even worse for him.

He’s not even ugly in the first place. His facial features and manly and sharp, his eyes are catchy, his hands and fingers are long, and his body is slim and healthily worked-out.

“I…” You couldn’t even react to it. You were truly taken aback and felt with those words. “Thank you… I-I’m sorry for—” He immediately started nodding his head side-to-side.

“No need to apologize.” He shrugged his shoulders and began to turn back, but those damn words in the tip of his tongue that were begging to come out couldn’t be held back anymore. “Have a good night, Ms. Y/N. I’ll make sure Ella is prepared for tomorrow.” No matter if his heart was too overwhelmed with anxiety and his stomach with butterflies, he was disappointed at himself for even bothering you in the first, so he immediately started walking away from you before you could say anything else.

And you pathetically decided to let him go, regretting that decision more and more with every step of his, but only silence could be heard between you two.

At least he was glad that you seemed touched by him.

He was glad he said the things he needed to say, even if you’d never look at him the same way he looks at you, according to his thoughts.

So he walked home with blood running roughly on his cheeks, and a smile that couldn’t find rest.

Diluc, Kazuha, Zhongli, Itto, Gorou, Xiao, AlHaitham, Kinich, Neuvillette, Kabukimono, Ororon, Cyno

Luocha, Kakavasha, Dan Heng, Blade, Gepard, Sunday

Jiyan, Calcharo, Xiangli Yao

Taglist: @amoyanderes @shyentsfoundherink @kindofshyent @the-stinky-winky @goofy-ego @bigmantiddys @alatusorrow @luminieee

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toysrguts · 9 months ago

Note

can i request sally face relationship headcanons maybe??

sally face fandom is sooo dead:(

sally face realtionship hc's!!!!

i dont write this kind of stuff usually but i actually had a lot of fun with this ^___^ i hope its everything u hoped for 🙏🙏

sal:

•his love language is quality time, he loves spending time with you even if youre just doing nothing together

•your presence is very comforting to him

•isnt physically affectionate unless he knows youre 100% okay with it

•once he gets comfortable around you he will not let go he loves cuddling

•your dates are more lowkey like playing video games or having movie nights

•writes little songs for you and plays them on his guitar

•the best listener, you can yap all day and you will have his full undivided attention

•you can feel the shift in his behavior when hes in public with you vs being alone with you. he can let his guard down when its just the 2 of you

•communicating is hard for him but he is very understanding

•has a lot of deep conversations with you

•at night especially is when he opens up most, and you find it really endearing

•he has insomnia so sometimes you stay up all night talking or doing other things

•he loves how good you are with gizmo, hes basically your child

•gets so flustered when you make eye contact with him so naturally because hes insecure and sensitive about his face

•your acceptance of him means a lot to him

•literally melts when you play with his hair or scratch his head

•has abandonment issues and often worries hes not doing enough but you do your best to reassure him

•he can also be really clingy but he knows when to give you your space

•gives you really meaningful obscure compliments constantly, he finds all your “imperfections” beautiful

larry:

•very loving but also likes to mess with you and is such a tease

•will randomly come up behind you and pick you up when you least expect it

•he loves playing with your hair, especially when youre in bed together he’ll run his fingers through it until you fall asleep

•takes you to all of his secret hangout spots around nockfell for smoke seshes and picnics

•although he can be intense sometimes, hes really gentle with you and knows how to calm you down when youre overwhelmed

•loves getting you little gifts when you least expect it

•he frequently invites you over for painting dates

•also treehouse dates!!!!

•falling asleep up there and getting to watch the sunrise together

•PLEASE steal his clothes he loves that shit

•especially when you give them back and they smell like you

•taking you to concerts and shows is like his favorite thing ever

•not afraid to show affection with you in public

•you're his and everyone needs to know

•when he gets comfortable you get to see a different side of him

•hes usually loud and silly and annoying but he has an emotional and vulnerable side that only you really get to see

•acts of service are his love language fs, he cooks and cleans for you all the time

•hes definitely the jealous type

•someone complimenting you is fine, but if he catches someone flirting with you hes throwing hands

•sharing music with you is his favorite past time

•picking up cd’s from the music store and blasting them on his stereo together

•or on public transport where each of you has an earbud in

•lisa LOVES you and is always so welcoming whenever you come to stay with larry

•makes special burned cd mixes for you and labels them with sharpie and doodles little things on them

ash:

•you are her entire world she cannot be away from you for more than 5 minutes

•thinks your eyes are really pretty and you catch her staring into them every so often

•makes really heartfelt handmade gifts for you (like one of her “little dudes”)

•tries to make you laugh when youre sad

•it works like 99% of the time

•takes you everywhere on her motorcycle

•“hop on loser, we’re going to mcdonald's”

•takes a lot of pictures of you together and hangs them up on her wall

•can always sense when something is wrong and always knows how to make you feel better

•writes you little love letters every so often so you never forget how she feels about you

•will beg and pleade to let her do your makeup

•its mostly just an excuse to get close to you and get to sit on your lap :3

•also loves styling you in different outfits even if you dont wear them out, youre like her own personal model

•has like 20 different nicknames for you

todd:

•he smells sooooo good

•like pine and cedar wood 🤤🤤🤤🤤

•and dont get me started on his hair

•its so fluffy and smells amazing he loves when you run your fingers through his curls

•loves taking you out and spoiling you because you deserve it

•so chill and easy to communicate with, your comfort and happiness is his number one priority

•very protective over you but he tries not to be overbearing

•talks about you to literally everyone when youre not around

•remembers all the little details about you that you would expect him to forget

•the biggest nerd ever and loves yapping at things he likes, but he loves hearing you talk about your interests even more

•if you get obsessed with something like a video game or tv show he will not rest until you get him into it too

•if you crash at his place, expect breakfast in bed

•if youve had a bad day hes there to pamper you and give you everything you need

•“i got you this cuz it made me think of you” as he holds out a rock in his hand

•seems really serious and intimidating but youd be surprised

•hes such a dork when you get to know him

•drives you around literally everywhere, he loves traveling with you with the windows down and the radio blaring

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shall-we-die · 4 months ago

Text

╔‌‌‌‌•°📬༄•°══════════•⊰•°༄༚

{Love letters}

How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

╞•⊰❖⊱•═══•༻💌༺•═══•⊰❖⊱•╡

↬[Fandom]•⊰ {Bungo stray dogs}࿐

↬[Warnings]•⊰ {Yandere behaviors}࿐

☰[Main list]•⊰ ────┈┈{0087}┈─╮

╭──────┈┈┈┈┈───────╯

╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐

╚•°📬༄•°══════════•⊰•°༄༚‌‌‌

↬|Atsushi|

Atsushi would likely approach his s/o in a manipulative and obsessive way. He might start off by stalking them and observing them from afar, learning as much as he can about them and their interests. Once he has a good sense of who they are, he may approach them under the guise of being a casual acquaintance, but quickly escalate to being overly attentive and overly protective. He may also manipulate them with gifts and words, trying to make them dependent on him and feel like he’s the only one who truly understands and cares for them.

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↬|Dazai|

Dazai would be very strategic and calculated in his approach. He would likely gather as much information as he can about his s/o, their interests, hobbies, etc. He would use that information to appear to be the perfect match, acting charming and understanding, complimenting and flattering them frequently. He would also subtly make it known that he is not one to be trifled with, as he can be dangerous if crossed. He would make sure that his s/o is completely taken in by his charm, making it difficult for them to resist his advances.

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↬|Chuuya|

Well, the first step of a yandere Chuuyas approach to courting his S/O would be to start observing them closely. Chuuya would keep a close eye on them; he'd study their habits, their favorite things and activities, the way they interact with others, and he'd take everything into consideration before coming up with a plan to approach them He'd try to find a way to get their attention, by showing off his skills or by offering them a small favor, until he gets a reason to speak with them.

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↬|Akutagawa|

Since he doesn't know much about relationships and being with someone he'd start by watching them from afar, probably trying to get as much information on them as possible. He would then make sure to "accidentally" bump into them more often and would slowly start to act more close to them (while still being pretty cold) At some point he'd probably end up in a conversation with them somehow. After this he'd probably start asking more about them, getting to know them more and start showing a little interest.

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↬|Tetchou|

Tetchou, being a yandere, would act pretty normal on the outside like any normal person would approach someone they liked. The only thing different is the thoughts and inner monologue he’d have while talking to them. Inside, he’d be planning out how to make them his, wanting to know everything about them and how get as close to them as he can. He would also be very obsessive over them, never taking his eyes off them. But, all of that would be kept secret behind his calm and normal demeanour.

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↬|Jouno|

Jouno would approach his s/o in a calculated and methodical manner. He would likely start off by observing them from afar, gathering information and understanding their preferences and behaviors. Once he has enough knowledge about them, he would make his move by striking up conversations and slowly building a relationship. He would be charming and attentive, making them feel special and desirable. He may also use underhanded tactics such as manipulating certain situations to his advantage or using information he knows about them to gain their trust. Overall, his main goal would be to win them over and make them completely dependent on him.

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↬|Fyodor|

Would try to spend as much time as possible with the person to figure out what they like and dislike, while also figuring out how vulnerable they are, how much they trust him and would they trust him blindly. Would constantly be around the person, maybe even stalking them, watching them closely and seeing their habits. Would try to give his s\o "gifts" like random chocolate bars and such... Wouldn't give them direct signs at first, would be a bit secretive about his feelings.

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↬|Nikolai|

Nikolai would definitely go all out for his s/o, being very determined to have them. He would probably try to court them in a very over-the-top way, being very flirty and seductive. Nikolai would use a lot of pick-up lines on them and try to flatter them and show off his best qualities. Nikolai would probably try to impress his s/o and show off how charming he could be, and he would definitely not listen to them if they said no. Nikolai is absolutely relentless in the pursuit of his s/o, and will do anything to win them over.

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↬|Sigma|

As a yandere, Sigma would approach courting and approaching his s/o in a very intense and obsessive way. He would go out of his way to get close to them, constantly trying to spend time with her and be around her. He would also pay close attention to their likes, dislikes, and habits, and would go the extra mile to do things for them that he knows they would appreciate. He would also show a deep sense of devotion and loyalty to them, wanting to prove that he's the only person who can truly love and understand them.

||[🄻ove Letters]||

━●━━━━━━────────

⇆ㅤㅤ◁🄺ㅤㅤ❚❚ㅤㅤ🄼▷ㅤㅤ↻

#𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎–[🚫]#yandere bsd #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #ryunosuke akutagawa x reader #atsushi nakajima x reader #tetchou suehiro x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #bsd sigma x reader

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maomao-words · 8 months ago

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Fell into the Wind Breaker fandom, got my heart stolen, so I decided to write about (some of) my favorite boys.

Also, Kiryu is my beloved, and I think he deserves more attention and love in this fandom (please).

No TWs. Just endless fluff.

How they act when they have a crush on you:

Sakura Haruka:

Oh. Oh.

Brace yourself for a whirlwind of profound confusion. You will simply not be able to tell if Haruka hates your guts, wishes to never lock eyes with you ever again, or actually wants to smother you with affection to the verge of death.

The way Haruka instantly blushes at your mere sight, crimson seeping all the way down to his neck and collarbone, will make you dizzy with fondness for him. But the way he equally proceeds to stammer at cheery greeting, before spitting something along the line of "I wasn't waiting for you or anything!" before huffing and puffing and disappearing, will make you feel dejected and abandoned at times.

Haruka will spend his mayhem-like crushing stage both near you, always protecting and watching over you, and from a distance, panicking at these strange feelings welling up within his heart and filling him with a warmth he has never experienced before.

My dear, be patient with this foolish child, for he has suffered so much. He likes you so, so, so much that he does not know what to do with himself. But do no fear. Once Haruka's heart is set, nothing, and no one, can make it sway away from you.

Umemiya Hajime:

If you thought spending time with Umemiya was enjoyable before, time filled with nothing but his tender smiles and light jokes, wait until you become the only person reflected in his eyes.

Umemiya will simply refuse to let you leave his side. Wherever he goes, you have to be there, hand entangled in his.

Expect to be enveloped in hugs at all times of the day, and for seemingly no reason at all. If Umemiya is happy, deep in thought, sleepy, or even hungry, he will first reach out to squeeze you in his arms before beginning to whine about whatever state he is currently in.

Brace yourself to be considered as the boss' girl, even if Ume has yet to tell you about his feelings. Umemiya will ensure you get treated with as much respect as he receives, and will make it clear for everyone in the school that you are not to be touched.

Umemiya will try to gauge your level of comfort before attempting to start any kind of romantic relationship with you, which might lengthen the crushing stage by a while. But once he feels that only an affectionate yes will be your answer, Ume will not waste any more time.

Choji Tomiyama:

You might think Choji's friendly attitude and cheery aptitude will make differentiating between his platonic and romantic affections highly difficult. But once you start experiencing being the target of his fondness and devotion, you will realize how extremely wrong you were.

If you thought Choji was touchy before, brace yourself to experience true clinginess.

Choji has to be touching you at all times. A hand at the small of your back as you walk with the team, an arm around your waist as you sit together on a bench, and even a hand tightly holding yours as you cross a busy street.

Choji's smile, bright as the sun, will increase in intensity each time you make your way to him after finishing up your tasks for the day. Expect to be showered with straightforward compliments, and seemingly never-ending praise, as you fight off a deep blush from dominating your features.

Rest assured. Choji will not be able to keep his crush a secret for long. So hang on tight and wait for him.

Kiryu Mitsuki:

Oh, to have Kiryu pine over you. What a literal dream.

Expect to be pampered. Lots and lots.

Kiryu will offer his arm to you whenever you have to walk down a flight of stairs, gently hold your hand in the crowded areas of the town, and offer you the most honeyed praises about your clothes, style, face, and everything.

Do not ever be afraid of walking home in the dark after finishing a late study session. Kiryu will always be there, leaning against the wall opposite your building, waiting for you.

His face would instantly brighten under the street lamp as soon as he spots you. He would greet you with his usual cat-like grin, before starting to ask you about your day. Kiryu will distract you with the conversation as he takes away your bag, heavy or not, and slings his own jacket on your shoulders, all within the span of a few seconds.

Late night walks have never felt safer than with him by your side, ready to send anyone, who would even do as much as glance at you, face first into the floor.

Reciprocating a crush has never felt this easy before.

#wind breaker #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker x reader #sakura haruka #hajime umemiya #choji tomiyama #mitsuki kiryu

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sitp-recs · 2 months ago

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HP Rec Fest 2024

day 19: a fanart

it felt a bit unfair to pick only one fanart over so many incredible works I’ve seen this year, so I’ve decided to make this a proper reclist linking some of my 2024 favourites! tysm @hprecfest for the opportunity to showcase how brilliant, prolific and creative our fandom is, and to share love for both Drarry and rare pairs. I’m in awe of these works and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did 💜

Drarry:

Advent Again by dustmouth

Art for By the Grace by @appleslightning

Art for In Evidence of Magical Theory by @willywat

Art for Modern Love by @kk1smet

Art for Nice Things by appleslightning

Art for Spoiled Little Brat by appleslightning

Coffee shop by @goldmanrustic

Draco Malfoy's Pro Tips for Getting Exactly What You Want (NSFW) by @maesterchill

Proposal & NSFW collection by @littlewinnow

Día de las Velitas by @substellaris

Draco by @garagepaperback

Fuck the Daily Prophet by @the-forbidden-forest

HBD Draco by @fictional

Inktober by @gr33nmushy

Lazy Sundays by @amomorii

Like Old Times & Pro Quidditch Players by @mzuul

NSFW by @putridpommes

Of Cabinets and Cupboards & Caught by @faiell

Pirate AU & NSFW collection by @slyssnakes

Ruined Robes by @eleadore

Talk Tonight by @getawayfox

To the Faire & Holiday Draco by @itsphantasmagoria

Veela Draco by @lilbeanz

Rare pairs:

Art for Nightswimming by appleslightning (Dronarry)

Art for Trine by eleadore (Tedrarry)

Art for Welcome, Peasants by putridpommes (Dronarry)

Compliment & Looking at you by @flymetosnarryland (Snarry)

Dirty Secret by flymetosnarryland (Draco/Sirius)

First kiss by @forestdeath1 (Prongsfoot)

Strong and Fast Lovers by @sugareey-makes-stuff (Ginsy)

Vamp!Marlily by @corwnvus

Gen:

Animagus Harry by eleadore

Death Eater Draco by @longdaytogo

Drapple by @ziggystqrdust

Golden Trio by @naw-sya

Sketch by @handledwithgloves

#hprecfest2024 #day 19 #art recs

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elenthyaolyenths · 2 months ago

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Ok, it's time, isn't it? My first "Art Versus Artist"! and always, my complete Good Omens Art Gallery if you are curious!

Hello my dears! Your little Frenchie wing-addict here! 2024 has been a hell of a ride, so many great things happened since I decided to join the Good Omens fandom ! What a ride, yeah, from my first Red Art sketches in January to my most recent full-colour tries and experimentations - most of them still secret, sorrryyyyy. My wrist surgery and the physiotherapy still going on, depression and health problems hitting hard again... BUT I KNOW I wouldn't be here without the fandom and without your wonderful support.

The constant research of my own art style, while i was granted the chance to work with amazing writers and artists. The pleasure to share my improvements with you all, dear followers and friends!!!

Thank you so much, for everything. Wishing you the best for 2025, I hope I'll be able to make you smile and dream even more!

Linktree - Masterpost - Ko-Fi - Prints of my Art here!

And, here, I'll have to stop a minute and try to remember ALL of you dear people I'd like to thank even more personally... with all my love and my gratefulness. (!long text under the cut!)

@vavoom-sorted-art dear M'am, I have already told you how one of your Tumblr posts litteraly saved me in the beginning of 2024 and gave me back the courage to continue to make art. It was probably a very small thing for you, but for me it has been a life-changing thing for the best. Thank you again, thank you so much for your kindness, and your advice about my art during this year. I wish you the best for 2025, for your studies and everything else <3

@malohkeh-main My dear, you're the first one who encouraged me to do this personal Red Art Daily Challenge in January. Thanks for your wonderful support and our translation teamwork, life happened between us but I'll never forget our discussions.

@floscrap-blog, my dear frenchie friend I have met on international GOAD sub, while we were living almost right next door, how was it even possible?? Dear Hun, thank you so much for your kindness, I'll treasure our friendship forever.

@kotias, the one and only! I can't even say how much I'm grateful for you finding me and dragging me into the wonderful behind-the-scenes of this awesome fandom. Because of you (and it's a compliment) I was suddenly drawing even more, writing again after a 3-years-blank-page-syndrom, meeting so many new people and collegues and friends. My life has definitely changed the day we started to talk, and I discovered what the tag "found family" might mean. Thank you so, SO MUCH, Madame.

Thanks to @goodomensafterdark for creating the best goblin nest ever. Your whole community supporting me when I was about to get my wrist surgery and when I was scared as hell? Probably my best wonderful memory ever of this summer. Still crying about it. Thank you so much, for everything.

@demonsandpieohmy, dearest, I still remember this comment on my art on GOAD, mentioning your fingers tingling... and then, "To Shreds" was born, and it was just the first of our several collabs together. Thank you so much for your trust and your support on my very first NSFW artworks! Thank you for your friendship, we might have talked less these last months but it's always a pleasure. Wishing you the best for your ulterior writings!

Thanks to @the-bentley and @cassiecasyl for choosing me on the Reverse Bang Minisode and for our wonderful teamwork!! I have been uncredibly lucky to have you both.

Greatings and many thanks to the people who supported me on Ko-Fi and/or commisionned me this year. It's been an honor and a true pleasure. <3

Hugs, love, and big thanks to my dear friends and fellows artists/writers: @daneecastle (your kindness and your advice still help me everyday, dear), @gribouli (tellement heureuse d'avoir pu te rencontrer, merciiiii pour tout!), @nosferatini (Thank Mama Nos for everything, can't wait for 2025 ;-D), @sweetmascherari (the "BIG" project was so much funnier by your side!<3), @eybefioro (my dear I'm so happy to finally be able to work with you!)... and I probably forgot people and I hate it but be sure I'm so so grateful T.T

Thanks even more to all my lovely friends from the TNAN discord - and specifically to @itsscottiesstark, my dear friend and co-moderator. I love what we have created there and even if this BIG BABY of a network is sometime a little bit overwhelming now, it's always a pleasure to co-event with you and having fun during your Story-Times.

And, last but not least, thanks to my dear internet Spouse, @captainblou. Writing and arting by your side has been one of the most wonderful things I was able to do this year. Thank you for that, and for everything else, each day, every day.

Happy NYE everyone! See you in 2025!

Tag-list (ask in comment to be add if you want to be notified next time I publish my Good Omens arts and WIPs! A lot of secret work is almost done and is coming!!!)

@goodomensafterdark ;

@floscrap-blog ; @demonsandpieohmy ; @amagnificentobsession ; @captainblou ; @mamamissy

@ineffable-hyperfixation ; @itsscottiesstark ; @moralsofanalleycatsposts ; @featheredboaconstrictor ; @lenareadly

@fearandhatred ; @eybefioro ; @crowleys-bentley-and-plants ; @ashfae ; @crowleys-hips;

@paperclipninja ; @silverdphantom ; @neverlet ; @naturallyteal ; @goodoldfashionedlovergirls-blog ;

@madaims; @daisydimple20092 ; @seraphhiim ; @rebeccakatmauri ; @cobragardens

#good omens #fandom #good omens fandom #ineffable husbands #art versus artist #art vs artist #happy new year #recap #2024 recap #elenthyaandgoodomens

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moonlight-joy · 6 days ago

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Hunt Me Love Me

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: You’re an undercover journalist investigating Kraven, but he finds out before you can escape. Instead of killing you, Kraven makes you his captive—curious to see how long it will take for you to fall for him. The longer you stay, the more you realize that you’re not just surviving his captivity… you’re starting to fall for him.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

The dim light filtering through the wooden slats of the cabin did little to illuminate the room, but you didn’t need bright light to feel the weight of Kraven’s presence. He leaned against the far wall, his broad shoulders relaxed but his sharp eyes fixed on you like a predator studying its prey. His silence was unnerving, a stark contrast to the chaos in your own mind.

You had been so careful. Months of preparation, research, and subtle probing, all leading up to this moment. You’d come to investigate the man who had eluded law enforcement and fascinated tabloids for years—a hunter who thrived on danger, someone whispered about in dark corners but never truly understood. Sergei Kravinoff, better known as Kraven. But somehow, he had found you first.

“I must admit,” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, laced with something you couldn’t quite place, “you’re better than most.”

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap, nails digging into your palms. “Better than most what?” you asked, your voice steady despite the tight knot of fear in your chest.

Kraven’s smirk deepened. “Better than most of the fools who think they can outsmart me. They send investigators, bounty hunters, even assassins.” He chuckled, a low and menacing sound. “But you? An undercover journalist. Now that’s clever.”

Your stomach twisted as his words sank in. He knew. He’d known all along.

“If you knew, then why didn’t you stop me sooner?” you demanded, anger flaring up despite your fear.

Kraven pushed off the wall and crossed the room in a few deliberate strides, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. He crouched down so that his face was level with yours, his eyes narrowing as he studied you.

“Because,” he said softly, “I wanted to see how far you’d go. How far you’d push yourself to get close to me. And now…” He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Now, you’re mine.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, and you leaned back instinctively, trying to put distance between the two of you. But there was no escape. Not here, not now.

“You can’t keep me here,” you said, forcing steel into your voice. “People will come looking for me.”

Kraven’s smirk returned, more dangerous than before. “Let them come. They’ll find nothing. Just like you did.”

He stood and began pacing the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like a tiger circling its cage. “You’re not the first to try to unearth my secrets,” he continued. “But you… you’re different. Persistent. Clever. Beautiful.”

The last word hung in the air, and you swallowed hard, refusing to let his compliment shake you.

“You’re a monster,” you said, your voice trembling but defiant.

Kraven stopped and turned to face you, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “Perhaps,” he admitted, “but even monsters have their desires. And you… you’ve awakened something in me. Something I haven’t felt in years.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, his presence suffocating. You wanted to scream, to fight, to run. But there was no way out. Instead, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to let him see the fear you felt.

“What do you want from me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kraven’s smile softened, though it didn’t lose its predatory edge. “I want to see how long it takes for you to stop fighting me,” he said simply. “How long it takes for you to realize that you belong here. With me.”

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself trapped in a strange dance with Kraven. He didn’t harm you, but he didn’t let you go either. Instead, he watched you, studied you, his fascination with you growing by the day. At first, you resisted, refusing to engage with him beyond the bare minimum. But as time passed, something shifted.

He wasn’t what you’d expected. Yes, he was intense, dangerous, and utterly unyielding. But he was also intelligent, thoughtful, and, at times, even kind. He brought you food, ensured you were comfortable, and occasionally shared stories of his past—a past filled with pain and loss, but also with triumphs and victories that few could comprehend.

“Why do you hunt?” you asked him one evening, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Kraven’s gaze flicked to you, his expression thoughtful. “To prove something,” he said finally. “To myself. To the world. To anyone who ever doubted me.”

“And now?” you pressed. “What are you trying to prove now?”

He was silent for a long moment before answering. “That I’m more than what they think I am. And that maybe… there’s more to life than the hunt.”

His words surprised you, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of vulnerability in him. It was fleeting, but it was enough to make you question everything you’d thought about him.

One night, as you lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Kraven’s voice broke the silence.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Sometimes I think I should. But other times…” You trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought.

“Other times?” he prompted.

You turned your head to look at him, your chest tightening at the intensity of his gaze. “Other times, I think I understand you more than I want to.”

Kraven’s lips twitched into a small smile. “You’re stronger than you realize,” he said. “That’s why I chose you.”

The words sent a jolt through you, and you sat up, staring at him in shock. “Chose me?” you repeated.

Kraven nodded, his expression unrepentant. “I knew who you were from the moment you started your investigation. I let you get close because I wanted to see if you were worthy.”

“Worthy of what?” you demanded, your voice rising.

“Of standing by my side,” he said simply. “Of being more than prey. Of being… mine.”

The truth of his words hit you like a physical blow. All this time, you’d thought you were the one chasing him, the one uncovering his secrets. But in reality, he’d been hunting you all along.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

Kraven stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “Perhaps. But you’re still here. And that tells me I’m not the only one who feels this.”

You wanted to deny it, to scream that he was wrong. But deep down, a small, treacherous part of you knew he wasn’t. And that terrified you more than anything.

The days that followed were a blur of conflicting emotions. You hated him for what he’d done, for the way he’d manipulated you. But you couldn’t deny the connection that had formed between you, the way his presence stirred something deep within you.

And slowly, against all logic and reason, you began to wonder if staying with him wasn’t a cage… but a choice.

Please support my work with like and comment

#kraven #kraven the hunter #kraven x reader #kraven movie #kraven x you #sergei kravinoff #kraven the hunter movie #kraven the hunter x reader #aaron taylor johnson #aarontaylorjohnson

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