#seriously it would be painful to fall on that wouldn't it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iceunhie · 10 months ago

Text

[ 3 + 1 ].

premise. in which entails your daily life being in a relationship with the one and only eccentric wanderer. (alternatively: wanderer's love for you comes in many forms. you welcome them all the same.)

warnings: established relationship, hurt-comfort, slice of life, wanderer is called kuni. jealousy (wanderer), angst. FLUFF fluff fluff. wanhida family goals

a/n: ITS SCARAMOUCHE WANDERER SEASON his event broke me btw [in tears]

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# observation one: unconventionally clingy

early on in your relationship, this side of the wanderer remains quite privy to himself alone. this is because he has a very, very uncanny similarity to an aggressive and guarded cat that hisses when given an ounce of affection.

this does not mean he doesn't like your outlandish and grand displays of affection, though; its actually the opposite. (LOL)

the true crux of the matter lies in his inability to let down his guarded pride to admit that he thinks your affection is his lifeblood. (basically, “ew, affection... do it again”)

he's a menace (affectionate), and if you were one for critiquing that aspect of his character, you wouldn't have been in a relationship with him by now, anyway.

however—there is always a however when it comes to him—this does not mean that wanderer doesn't come across points of anxiousness over the fact that his less than affable personality may be something you will grow sick of one day.

he knows he isn't the best choice of a romantic partner; seriously, what were you even thinking... but when he establishes that you are indeed now an irreplaceable part of his life (which will take a long time, good luck), he clings to you with a fierce desperation underneath all that thorn and bristle.

this is part of his visceral fear of abandonment—you are the one thing that he adores, cares for with his entire being (nahida as a close second), and to watch you slip away from him due to his own misgivings will spell out a death sentence for him.

(so please, treat him gently; cradle his cracked palms and broken psyche, and slowly, emphasis on slowly, but surely, he will learn to return in kind.)

this ‘clinginess’ comes forth in his proximity to you. once he has felt comfortable with your relationship, wanderer is quite unafraid to show how touchy he is in his own way.

whether that is to get groceries in your shared home, following after you like a second shadow when you go to the grand bazaar, or even shooing away people that harass you (tba), the wanderer's gaze and all his efforts are always directed to your will.

(you dubbed this as ‘scary cat boyfriend privilege’—and are rewarded with a painful flick to the forehead. ouch.)

—☆★☆—

“where are you going?” the slender hand that stops you from leaving your comfy bed does little to help your need to fall back into the blissful arms of sleep.

“just going to go get some water, kuni.”

waking up to the sight of the wanderer in all his divine glory certainly isn't one of the things you expected in your life, but you welcome it all the same. leaving a simple kiss to his forehead, you pry your hand away with a gentleness you reserve only for him.

he flushes, a lovely red adorning cheeks, to the span of his neck. oh, how you love seeing him melt.

“you won't take too long?”

he doesn't need to breathe, but he sucks in a breath anyway, face twisting to a deep set frown—your telltale sign that your kunikuzushi had a nightmare.

an unanswered question. you won't leave?

your hand caresses the silky soft strands of his purple hair, that in which wanderer nuzzles into. he doesn't seem keen on telling you, and you respect that. you'd wait for him as long as he'd like.

“of course i will. not going anywhere, silly.”

why would i? you convey in that same gesture. i love you.

the tightness of his face relaxes, his grip on your hand loosening. right—you weren't. (you were not going to abandon him.)

“hurry up and come back, then. it's far too early.” his voice is still thick with sleep, though that doesn't temper his signature sass at all.

i love you too. goes unsaid.

your grin sharpens, teasing. “aww, don't miss me too much, okay?”

anddd there's the signature scowl. “...never mind, don't come back.”

“hey!”

shuffling to hide his face from you, wanderer sports a genuine smile, hidden from your sight.

because in your presence, the wanderer stills, and all thoughts of a doomed eternity fall short of how he commits himself to you—wanderer loves and loves, loves you, for you nestle in the space his heart was meant to be, holding onto the mere wisps of your identity and weaving it into the mosaic of his soul.

it's silent save for when you plop yourself back to the bed, bearhugging wanderer and complaining about waking up early again because you stayed up all night playing tcg with him. (he's at 10 wins and 5 losses and he was not going to be caught lacking).

“you do realize that's entirely your fault, right?” he gloats. “it's not my fault my card bested that lawachurl of yours.”

“what?! no way, mister! my all geo team is still superior, mind you-”

once, wanderer wondered about the concept of infinity.

everlasting devotion. of unabashed care and trust. as he listens to your ramblings as the night falls to day, he figures that what you currently share fits that concept just fine.

# observation two: (very) jealous tendencies

it isn't in wanderer's intention to be jealous. well, so he says.

really, he isn't! after all, what was there to be jealous of? absurd! looks, intellect, an extensive range of vocabulary not limited to insults and creative verbal attacks; wanderer boasts quite the sizable number of pros that get most people falling at his feet. (his outward personality leaves much to be desired, however, but his snark does have a certain charm. probably).

and of all the bashful akademiya seniors and well-intentioned young women (and men), you managed to get into a relationship with this black cat of a derisive puppet. this is an achievement worthy of celebration, for not just anyone can take the wanderer and burrow into his many, many guarded walls and claim the title of being his lover.

yet, wanderer is the more jealous one in the relationship.

he knows that you won't cheat on him, and trusts that you won't look at others in such a way. but still, your boyfriend can't help but doubt. be patient when working out his jealousy, for it is a double edged sword—on one hand, wanderer was so adorable when he was jealous; sulky, clingy, hot you name it! and it was very flattering, knowing that he loved you enough to want to keep you all to himself.

but, the other side was quite... a piece of work. should you attempt to tease him about such a thing, it ends in three ways. one, him flying off to god knows where and leaving you alone (😐), two, restricting you from hugging and giving him affection (😭), and worse, giving you the silent treatment (😨). choose your ammunition wisely.

and from this, be prepared for the wanderer to monopolize your attention all to himself— with said admirers mysteriously off the grid or too afraid to approach you for fear of his wrath. i'll say it once: a jealous wanderer is a force to be reckoned with. (and we love him for it)

(he was chided endlessly by nahida for this; “you're scaring all the researchers that want to do a thesis review with [name]!” she says.

a sly smirk was his only reply).

—☆★☆—

“what, and here i thought he had more bark left in him.” wanderer huffs haughtily, with the researcher dashing away as if his life depended on it.

“you'll get scolded by nahida again, you know. i don't think the dendro archon's trusted aide should boast a terrifying reputation.”

he snorts. “lesser lord kusanali has better things to do than chide me for harassment.”

“but you don't have better things to do than scaring away poor kimiya?”

that gets you an eye roll that could reach massive highs of ‘what about it?’ from your boyfriend. “you're overthinking.” (translation: you're right).

“uh huh, sure i am.”

“whatever. who you talk to and interact with is none of my concern. it's not like i care about such things anyway.” he retorts. “i'm not possessive.”

so he says. “by the way, his pickup line was pathetic—‘are you anemo because your beauty blows me away’? atrocious.”

your eyebrow raises in return. really, who was speaking about “not caring” and then judging right after? well, it's fine because he was kinda right.... cyno would definitely get along with that guy.

“it was sincere! i think he has to be commended for his efforts, no?”

“you call that effort?” his face scrunches to a dissatisfied frown.

kinoya, kimiya—he doesn't even remember his name anymore. wanderer doesn't care for those that waste his time, and more especially to those that attempt to get close to you in particular. honestly, what a cheap trick.

and you! you were seriously humoring that moony researcher earlier. you even smiled at him! wanderer seethes, crossing his arms. “its quite irritating, knowing that they flock to you under the guise of—what was it he said? right, ‘shared academic pursuits.’ it was too obvious.”

“first of all: that's rude, second, he really needed help! anyone would feel sorry for him.” you tut, pinching the smooth of wanderer's palm. you wisely decide not to comment on how he immediately interlocks hands with you.

you snicker. “and he was only asking for advice on his research topic, silly.”

“hah! how nice — you're defending him now.” it's incredible how wanderer has the uncanny ability to be just like an annoyed cat that dunked itself into a bucket of cold water; and the way he frowns at you only makes you let out an even worse fit of laughter.

wanderer drinks in the sound, resonating it with the beat of his soul, your laugh the heartbeat echoing deep within his veins. he is reduced to nothing with you—with you, his face relaxes; wanderer may be indifferent to humans, but with you, your mere existence is enough for him to falter like a human, weaken like a human.

and weakly, perhaps in an attempt to save face, he speaks, “you didn't deny it.”

“deny what?”

“...defending him.” (if he were a cat, his ears would definitely fall flat right now).

you let out another light laugh, but sparing your lover the torment, you cling to the side of his arm instead.

“i never had such intentions.” stating it quite firmly, “i'm only saying that there's no competition to be made, darling.”

he gives you a skeptical look in return. “was there even any?”

“none at all.” you lean closer to him, and the wanderer leans into the touch of your hand on his cheek. “since you're winning.”

the flustered blush you receive and the subconscious squeeze of his hand in yours conveys all you need to say.

that did the trick. wanderer's smile is satisfied—smug. “clearly, you managed to make the right call for once.”

“well, i could hardly resist you.”

afterwards, you note that the wanderer's pace doesn't seem as fast as usual anymore. no matter the jaw dropped stares of others at the two of you cozying up together, he never let go of your hand once.

(the next day, kimiya comes to you with a sheepish smile saying that he'd like to focus on his own without your help.

“was it your doing?” you look at the wanderer by your bedside table fastening his vision in pace, voice deadpanning.

“hah? why would i waste my time over some insignificant mortal?” he replies, but as he's putting on his hat, you see him smile to himself.

that little...)

# observation three: secretly? protective/considerate (green flag!!)

if you ask anyone who knows the wanderer on a personal note, you'd find out that he is, indeed, quite considerate—hidden underneath alllll that snark and aloofness and haughtiness, the wanderer cares for those who have helped him in some way, and with you as his partner (romantic), that care is multiplied tenfold hundredfold.

this quality of his, despite being endearing on paper and practice, is reminiscent of that of an aggressive mother hen; if you count wanderer as a hen that pecks someone incessently to show his care.

he chides you like an exasperated young maiden, but the soft way he handles your bruised arm littered with injuries from your recent run in with some strange fontainian seahorse contradicts his harsh scoldings.

(“bested by a fish? are you serious?”

“excuse you, i needed to get it's horns for materials, okay?!”

“...remind me why i'm stuck with an idiot for a companion.”

“uh, because i have a great personality, and you love me?”

“a decision i've made that's quite hard to defend, honestly.”

you stick your tongue out at him. yes, his habits also become yours.)

or how he tells you you're hopeless at cooking, but always manages to excuse himself to cook for you the moment he notices even the slightest decline in your health. one concern though; he throws the bento towards your head—so minus points for domesticity. (...he has cut heart shapes into the vegetables before and has never been the same since.)

if there's anything you can count wanderer for, he will do it. you could ask him to attempt to pluck the very fabric of reality for you, string together the stars and leave them at your feet, and he will do so, huffing all the while (he never means it). he's just smitten like that; not that he would ever verbalize it—yet. his hushed and vulnerable whispers of asking you to let him stay by your side are your closest road to his admittance.

he will not serenade you with ‘shallow declarations of love,’ as he tells you, but you know that he will always be there for you, for better or for worse.

—☆★☆—

fury is an emotion wanderer was once very accustomed to—it reminds him of electric violet, of three betrayals and of yearning for a constitution he was never fated to reach.

and fury tugs at the strings of his being the moment he sees the droplets of tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision.

“who did it?” something bitter and violent manifests in his countenance, his vision pulsing angrily with gales threatening to harm. (it does not harm you, though. it never does.) “who did this to you?”

his grip on your shoulders tightens the more you refuse to answer, both from anger and fear. you're never this silent; and his panic increases when you opt to bury yourself in his neck. wanderer sighs.

“hey. i'm asking who made you cry like this, idiot.”

“...”

“fine, i won't call you an idiot, then.” but impatient way he speaks the syllables that make your name betrays his worry. “just talk to me.”

“...can we just stay here like this?”

“....”

“sorry, that was a little-” you say, voice strained, pulling away; but the wanderer tugs you close, allowing you to hide from the world that seems so out to get you. (he knows that feeling well, after all.)

it's he who entangles himself with you, listening to the steady rise of your heartbeat, wiping away your tears.

“i didn't say you couldn't hug me, stupid. it's fine. do as you like.”

if it were a person that did this to you, that would've been better murder was never really out of the table with him, but when faced with something he is unable to solve for you; whether it be a bad day, bad luck, or even something he cannot control, wanderer finds himself at a loss.

because the concept of love, with you, is foreign—terrifying, even. betrayal and scorn were his guiding compass, and to be rid of it and to be seen by you, held by you, and to know that you were not going to follow in the footsteps of those he once clung to was far too good to believe. (yet he tries. for you.)

returning your embrace only passively, he tries to scramble for words of comfort—and when he fails to find the nerve to do so, he does the only thing he can allow himself to do.

with the kindness and gentleness he fostered (still fosters, thanks to you) from his memories as the kabukimono, the wanderer holds you, if only to remind himself of his place by your side, unchanging and adamant—as you remind him of his place beside yours.

he leads you to calm yourself down, albeit roughly as he tells you to stop fussing over trying to help him get you something wipe your tears with—and for all his flushed visage, he lets you cling to him, seeking his comfort.

i'm here, it goes unsaid. wanderer knows you'd pick up on it anyway. please talk to me.

(“if i die from this, i'll come haunt you as a ghost.” you shake like a leaf in his arms, clutched tight and staring at anywhere but the ground. who comforts someone by putting them almost 80 feet up in the air? heights are so not your thing.

“like i'd let you.” wanderer says, rolling his eyes. “and you're shaking too much. just keep your eyes on me, will you?”

“...was that flirting?”

“i will drop you.”

“wait, i'm kidding!” a particular breeze leaves you in goosebumps, with wanderer tightening his grip on you. “don't let me fall, please?”

“are you stupid?” he snaps, but urges you to look at the sight of the sunset on the horizon. his hold is more gentle this time, too. “why would i let you fall? now stop shaking and hold on to me.”

you think you fell just a little harder for him that day.)

—and if you decide to press a kiss to the back of his nape as a way of thanks, you're rewarded with a playful gale and a little zap to deter you in response.

“watch it, [name].” he says, but the shifty eyed way he doesn't meet your eyes isn't fooling anyone here; neither is the red on his cheeks. “you're too close.”

“hehe, sorry, sorry, couldn't resist.”

nonetheless. he supposes the growing smile on your face in place of your tears are sufficient payment for wanderer's efforts. hmph.

he'll let it slide for today.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

# deciding conclusion: totally in love with you (real not clickbait)

saying it outright: being with the wanderer is not a smooth road. it is full of hardships, hurt, and learning. there will be many times when his built in self destruction (read: abandonment issues) will kick in, hurting you in the process.

getting him to say ‘i love you’ will seem impossible at first, and there will be times when his doubt pierces your heart and renders it tattered to pieces. he's doing his best chat, pls help him

he will not be able to utter sweet words of adoration like you do, or return your embrace as easily as you would with him—and there will be many moments when he will feel as if he's not enough.

but nourish your affections, stay consistently by his side, show him that he is worth loving, worth staying for, and like the foundations of a steadily built tower, his trust and love for you too will grow.

(it will sometimes feel tiring, it will feel hopeless, and it's more than what you've bargained for, but it will all be worth it in the end.)

because you know he cares; it's in the way his expression morphs into helplessness when he sees your face fall in an argument, how he doesn't push you away when you kiss him and shower him with hugs, and when his hands lock tightly in yours in a sea of people, with you only in his sights. how his eyes betray him to look at you with fondness and warmth.

(it's wordless whenever wanderer decides to hold you tight at night, hugging you like his last lifeline. especially after a disagreement, with only the quietude of the night to observe.

he said some hurtful words today. that much he knows.

“are you asleep?” his voice is muffled against your shirt, and he may not need to breathe, but he inhales your scent anyway, memorizing the sight of you in his arms like a promise. “...you probably are.”

silence. “i'm sorry.”

“.....”

his lip trembles, his grasp on your arms bruising if not for your non-awareness. there's a wetness growing against your shirt, and small sniffles.

“i'm sorry.” and gently, so gently, wanderer presses his forehead against your shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of your body. “i shouldn't have snapped at you and told you those sorts of things.”

i'm sorry i hurt you.

please stay.

please don't let go of me.

i need you.

i love you.

when morning comes, you wake up to the sight of the wanderer in your bed, face nuzzled in your chest.

there are tearstains on his face.)

getting him to be open and vulnerable is akin to keeping a rusty, torn boat afloat; it will not be easy, no, but you know that he tries, (so very hard) to make it work. that he fights desperately against his own clumsily strung tethers and rebuilds himself anew, if only to understand and perceive you—to love you as you deserve.

and when that time comes, wanderer will cling to you, desperately, completely, and make sure your efforts will never ever make you regret giving him the chance to open up and be with you.

—☆★☆—

“what would happen if we ever broke up?”

dropping such a bombshell in the middle of having the wanderer on your lap was not how he thought things would go to, granted how pleasant the atmosphere was—he'd agreed to going on a much needed date (your words) with you after lesser lord kusanali had just graded him on one of his essay papers. (he got an a, obviously)

you don't think you've ever seen such a distraught look cross wanderer's face—aside from the time you finally beat him at tcg (5 out of 4); and you've never seen him look so angry either.

rather, he looked scared.

“what brought this idea on?” he tries to lodge out the words, trying to act coherent. but underneath, a storm brews—his hands are shaking. wanderer feels like he's swallowed a bag full of needles.

am i not doing enough? was i too harsh on them when i scolded them for fighting that damn mechanical desert robot? he's scared. or... do they really....

the mere idea of you being tired of him—sick of him, and ready to leave him behind leaves an ugly, disgusting feeling. like acid on his skin.

perhaps, you don't love him anymore? wanderer panics, senses going overdrive. was it that argument months ago when he hurt your feelings? he knows you know he apologized, and he's doing everything in his power to make sure he wasn't repeating that mistake anymore—but why would you say this out of nowhere?

or maybe it's because he didn't notice you feeling uncomfortable in your relationship? no, you would have definitely told him if so. then what is it? you don't just say things like this out of nowhere so seriously-

“i mean... at this point, i think i wouldn't ever want to break up with you.”

“...what?” wanderer blinks.

“you heard me.” cupping the sides of his face with your hands, you restate your words with more vigor. eyes determined. “i don't think i've ever loved someone so much as i love you. heck, not even close! kuni, if we break up, i might actually never recover.”

and the wanderer falls. how could you even say such a thing?

“that's... you're shameless.” he states it like an insult, but his hands go up to hide his eyes, hiding his embarrassment from your romantic words. “why would you even say something so out of pocket like that? you utter fool. you almost made me think i-”

- would lose you. even thinking it made him feel nauseous.

“why are we still dating then? but really, i mean it. i love you too much.” you coo, and that, in return, leads the wanderer to release an exasperated, weary sigh. if he were human, he's sure his blood pressure would never be normal because of you.

but contrary to his attitude, he relaxes his face and allows you to hold him. lightens up, even. you continue, rambling on, “be honest, you know you love me.”

“unfortunately.”

and that brings out such a bright and dazzling smile on your face that the puppets sarcastic smile is replaced by a real one when you huff and smack at his head. (all is well.)

“you're so unromantic.”

indeed, being with this strange, eccentric puppet was certainly a challenge in more ways than one. nonetheless, you know he cherishes you—because with you, the wanderer is different. he's bristly, infuriating, and honestly a pain (lovingly), but he cares for you.

he tells you to stop ogling at his pretty face and do the dishes, yet he never minds the attention at all. he tells you that you were a fool for accidentally getting yourself injured by eremites because you wanted to save some fungi, but follows you anyway and makes sure no one messes with you.

he says he probably wouldn't miss you while you're gone, but is always the first person you see when you return to sumeru city. it's these little things that make you love him, and you know the feeling is mutual—even if he'll act indifferent about it in the meantime.

“hey, kuni?”

wanderer's eyes are closed, serene. once he knew that you were not, in fact, going to break up with him, he relishes the feeling of his head resting on your lap. it was safe, warm, and everything to him; but he'd rather let the world burn before he tells you. “what?”

“thank you for letting me love you.”

....

“...idiot.” is all he says. you can feel him shift to the side so you won't see his face. “you don't have to thank me for that. that's so sappy...”

(and if you ever saw the slight sheen of glossiness in his eyes, you keep it to yourself.)

i should be thanking you. he thinks instead. i'm glad you love me.

so many things pop up in his head for this, so many unspoken words—and he may not be able to convey such things to you; he might never be able to, but you know that he loves, loves, and adores you.

because you accepted his past, his sins and his imperfections and treated him with tenderness and care. and you know that no matter how many sides of the wanderer you have yet to explore, you will love each one.

and that is enough for him to never let go.

a/n: IM CRYING I FINISHED THIS RIGHT ON TIME AFTER HIS EVENT and his growth has come so far,,, so proud of him 🥹

#mhie's spirals #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fanfic #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #genshin wanderer #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader

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scottiexmariee · 7 months ago

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Ok so I've been loving all if the stuff you've been putting out so far, it's literally so good!!! My request is how the lads would react to you falling down the stairs and I'm talking like a long stream of stairs (totally not bc I fell down the stairs today while watching sylus edits hehehe)

First of all, omg, I am so sorry but I giggled. I hope you're okay!

Here you go, anon. I hope this is what you had in mind! Do me a favor and ban yourself from watching Sylus edits near stairs!!

How the boys would react to you falling down the stairs

Characters: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader Warnings: Stairs are your biggest op.

(little bit of falling, little bit of fluff. Lots of love for anon)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

☆ Man would be mortified.

☆ He turned his back for two seconds, next thing he knows you're takin a tumble

☆ Would most likely ban you from being near stairs by yourself again

☆ “You can take down wanderers, but lose a fight against stairs?”

☆ Would let you lean on him for support the rest of the night (he knows it hurt)

The elevator to your shared apartment building had broken down. By the time the two of you had arrived home to find that out, it was 11pm, and far too late for maintenance to come out to fix it. You were stuck taking the stairs until maintenance arrived tomorrow morning.

Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. However, your day had been excruciatingly long, and the stairs were more of an obstacle and a hinderance than they should have been. Your body was sore, your legs felt like jelly, and you really hated stairs in general.

Xavier looked down at you, stifling a laugh at the exasperated expression on your face. "I could always just carry you," He offered, extending his hand.

Whether it was your pride or your stubbornness, you couldn't accept. "I'm fine," You insisted, although it sounded like you were reassuring yourself more than Xavier. "You're tired too. Go ahead, I'm right behind you," You would very quickly find out that your last statement aged like milk left out in the sun.

Xavier shot you one last skeptical glance before he turned and began walking up the stairs. You followed suit, doing a decent job until you stepped wrong and lost your balance. Your arms flailed, successfully grabbing on to nothing. The only audible indication that you were about to fall was the startled gasp that left your mouth, which caught Xavier's attention with just enough time left to helplessly watch you fall.

You stumbled backward, colliding with every single one of the 13 steps on your way down. Every single stair caused a painful shock and an even bigger dent to your ego.

Xavier was kneeling by your side in an instant.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. He helped you sit up, carefully eyeing you for any visible injuries. You were very sore, but luckily not seriously injured. At most, you'd likely be bruised in the morning.

You let out a huff of air, stifling a pained grunt in the process. "Well, that was embarrassing,"

Xavier stared at you, wide-eyed and looking like he was 3 seconds away from calling an ambulance.

"Xav. I'm alright," You insisted, twisting to lift yourself up.

Xavier intervened, quickly scooping you up before you could get to your feet.

"No," He said, shaking his head. "You're banned from stairs,"

With that, he began walking back up the stairs you'd just tumbled down. While you were nearly dying from the embarrassment, Xavier actually didn't mind carrying you. In fact, he'd rather carry you up and down every flight of stairs you encountered for the rest of your life if it meant he wouldn't witness another fall like that again.

Once you were safely at the top, he gently set you down outside of your apartment, making sure to keep hold of you in case you were unsteady on your feet.

"I can stand," You assured him. You were still heavily embarrassed, but ultimately thankful that he was so sweet.

He kept an arm on you until your door was unlocked.

"Is it too soon to say you should have accepted my offer the first time?"

You shot him a glare, although it lacked any real heat.

"I think I should stick around for the night, just in case you happen to encounter anymore stairs,"

❅ Professional Zayne mode engaged immediately

❅ Depending on how bad the fall was, you're getting a full body exam before you're even allowed off the floor

❅ and that's not it, either

❅ You think you might bruise? Cold Compress. 15 Minutes. Now.

❅ Man will be stressed for the rest of his life any time you're in the same vicinity as a single stair

Zayne had lost track of the amount of times he'd warned you to be slower coming down the stairs. Every single time you came down them, two at a time and at a speed that was less than acceptable, he'd get heart palpitations, convinced that this was the time you were going to fall.

It was coming, and he knew it. He warned you. You, however, tore through the house like a woman on a mission. You had a habit of learning the hard way, and you're simply too prideful to take his warnings seriously.

Until about 30 seconds ago.

You don't even remember what you were going to tell him. You'd been upstairs, he'd been downstairs. You raced down the stairs, coming in hot, and somehow miscalculated a step about halfway down.

That fall that Zayne had warned you about numerous times was finally a reality, and damn it was painful.

Zayne, from the kitchen, heard what sounded suspiciously like a body bouncing off the stairs and immediately stopped what he was doing to come check on you.

He rounded the corner, and there you were in all your glory: dazed, disoriented, and sore with a bloody lip serving as the cherry on top.

"Don't move," He said gently, kneeling at your side. With well trained eyes, he began looking you over. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," You groaned. It was true. 30 seconds ago you were having the time of your life, and now you felt like you'd been hit by a semi truck.

The next 10 minutes consisted of Zayne thoroughly checking every limb, asking you to answer various questions ("what day is it? What year is it? Time? Count backwards from 10. What comes after W?") and forcibly holding an icepack to your lip.

He ended up carrying you to the couch, gently laying you down so he could continue what he was doing while simultaneously babysitting you.

He did not hit you with an "I told you so,"

Not yet, anyway.

However, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking for a house that didn't have stairs.

❀ He'd hear it from the other room and think a tree fell on his studio or something

❀ "Is it storming? I swear I heard thunder,"

❀ He'd make sure you were okay, but he's definitely teasing you about it later

❀ "I'm looking for a new bodyguard. Mine can't even handle a staircase,"

❀ definitely makes a moment post later on

❀ ^ "thought it was storming earlier. turns out it was just (Y/N) getting in a fight with stairs and losing. 10/10 ambience though,"

❀ on a separate occasion, I can see you both falling at the same time and blaming each other for it

While Rafayel was occupied with his current project, boredom had gotten the best of you. You began exploring the studio, surprised to find a set of stairs that you hadn't noticed before. Upon further inspection, they lead to an attic.

Curiosity killed the cat, so they say. You couldn't help yourself.

Was Rafayel an attic man? What sorts of trinkets did he stash up there? The questions were burning too hot to go unanswered.

Unfortunately, it was mostly old paint supplies and boxes of random decorations that had been retired. You were left a little unsatisfied, but you had gotten an answer.

As you began to retreat, you realized the stairs felt a lot steeper than they did on the way up.

It didn't take long for you to lose your footing. The sounds that filled the air were a symphony of thuds and curses.

After laying on the ground for a few minutes, trying to recover, you opened your eyes to see Rafayel standing above you.

"You good?" He asked, kneeling down. "I kinda thought you died,"

"I'm not good, but I'm not dead."

He gently checked you over and then extended a hand to help you up.

"I think you should stay away from stairs," He drawled, leading you toward the couch. "and I also think you should sit here and recover from that,"

You plopped on the couch, too tired to protest.

Rafayel studied you for a moment longer, wanting to make sure you were truly alright before he began the teasing. It was his way of lightening the mood. "Are you sure you're alright?"

You reassured him that yes, you were alright. He sat next to you, casually tossing an arm around your shoulders.

"Good, because we need to talk about your Bodyguard skills. You need training or something. You just lost a fight to some stairs,"

⟡ He was never worried about you around stairs before

⟡ but he's absolutely having remodeling done within the next 24 hours now

⟡ you are getting absolutely BABIED by this man the second he comes to your aid

⟡ You're not even lifting a fork, sweetie

⟡ You're getting tossed over his shoulder and carried like a sack of potatoes if stairs can't be avoided in the future

⟡ You're not going to get hurt again if he can help it

At times, Sylus thought it was cute when you shut your brain off around him. He knew that it meant you felt safe, and it filled him with warmth whenever he stopped to think about it.

He'd place a tactical hand over the corner of the table when you bent down to pick something up, just in case you bumped your head again, you'd hit his hand instead of the corner.

He'd gently guide you when you weren't paying attention to where you were walking, too engrossed in your conversation to look for obstacles.

You really only did it when you two were at the base. Sylus didn't mind, though. In fact, it was almost endearing, the way you were comfortable enough to turn off your spatial awareness.

He couldn't always be around to steer you away from obstacles, though.

And you, unfortunately, had a habit of walking around while looking at your phone instead of where your feet were going.

You'd done it again today. But this time, it had caused a problem.

You were walking down the stairs to get a drink, completely fixated on a video you were watching, not a single worry in the world about the steps. Sylus had chided you for it before, but it had never been an issue....until now.

You stepped too far forward and immediately ate shit the rest of the way down the stairs. Your phone clattered to the floor, ending up several feet away. Mephisto witnessed the entire thing and had the nerve to squawk at you.

To add insult to injury, Sylus just so happened to be rounding the corner just in time to see your disheveled figure crumpled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

He was careful not to jostle you when he knelt down.

"Can you move?"

You wiggled your fingers, your toes. Flexed your wrist, rotated your arms. Despite the horrendous pain in your side, you could still move. You answered his question with a nod.

He picked you up as gently as he could, holding you princess style with both arms, being extra careful.

"Were you on your phone?" He asked, already eyeing the evidence on the floor. The screen was shattered, but the sound of the video you'd been watching was still coming through the speakers. He'd warned you about walking distracted before, but was usually there to be a hero. Not this time.

"Maybe,"

He refused to get more than three feet away from you for the next several hours, constantly offering to get you various things you may need. Water? He's on it. A snack? You bet. Heating pad? Consider it done.

If you had known that accidentally falling down the stairs would cause Sylus to get all soft and cradle you like you were made of glass for the next few hours, you'd have fallen on purpose a lot sooner.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace rafayel #lnds xavier #lnds rafayel #lnds sylus #lnds zayne #lads zayne #lads sylus #lads xavier #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #lads x reader #lnds x reader

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writersrkive · 5 months ago

Text

Warmth | Aaron Hotchner

summary: Your period arrived, and you are feeling like shit, but that doesn't mean you won't go to work. Your body is pleading to rest, but you are stubborn, so you act like you are fine. However, Hotch is there to take care of you.

genre: comfort pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader warnings: cramps and physical discomfort caused by menstruation, fainting.

a/n: maybe is not a good one, but I'm on my period, so let me be delulu. English is not my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

When your lower back started to hurt, days prior, you knew what day of the month was getting closer. You prepare yourself, however that morning your body felt heavy, almost numb.

Walking out of bed, going to the bathroom, showering and dressing up were difficult tasks. The morning didn't go any better. You had problems with your car, the traffic was hell, and when you arrived at Quantico, fifteen minutes late, your ID wasn't in your wallet. You had to walk back to your car and go up to the floor where you worked five minutes later.

“Did you have cardio yesterday? Is that the reason why you are so late?” Derek asked, teasing, but you were not in the mood to joke with your best friend.

"Maybe I just took too long to hide the body of the rat that was bothering me last night, do you want me to show you what I did with it?" I asked, finally sitting on the chair to rest my lower back. My belly was hurting a lot.

“Uh.” Emily said and chuckled when she saw Derek's surprised expression.

“Maybe not the time.” The dark skinned whisper.

“Definitely not.” I answered. “Did Hotch…” I started, turning to JJ.

“Don't worry. He has been inside his office since we arrived. I don't think he noticed."

A few minutes later, I was leaning towards the files I had on my desk, not because I couldn't see, but because I needed to feel something warm towards my belly. My hands weren't enough, but it was all I had.

“Take this.” Spencer said, handing me some pain killers.

“Thanks, but last time I tried, they didn't work."

“Try again.” Emily said softly, understanding what was happening. “If you don't feel good, tell us.”

“Thanks, but seriously, I'm fine.”

That wasn't true though. Thank God we had just file day, because I wouldn't be able to fly in that condition. But at least I would have the opportunity to sleep a little thereby.

I needed something warm. So I stood up and walked to the mini cafeteria, where there was a coffee machine, with tea bags on the side and snacks. My tea was already prepared, I only wanted to grab a chocolate bar, but the cramps hit me, making the cup of tea almost fall from my hands.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.” That calm and velvety voice made me realise the man who I liked was now next to me, helping me by taking the cup and steadying myself with his other hand.

“Sorry, boss.” I whispered.

“What happened? Are you sick?”

“Kinda… I'm just not feeling good. You know, that day of the month.” I answered, still trying to breathe, feeling a tear of cold sweat slide down my back.

“It's okay. You need to rest. Go home.” He said with a firm, yet soft tone of voice. The team was always saying he only used that tone with me.

“I'm fine, seriously.”

I could see in his eyes that he was not convinced. “Okay, but let me know if you need something. Don't think I didn't notice that you arrived late.”

“I'm really sorry. That won't happen again.” My cheeks were probably burning, and I didn't know if it was because of my period, or the embarrassment.

“What I'm trying to say is that I know that you are not feeling good, and I will understand if you need to go back home.” He reassured me, lightly caressing the arm that still held me.

“Thanks.” I whisper.

“Here. Take this.” He handed me a warm compress that he took out of the microwave after heating it for a few minutes.

The tea and compress helped a lot, however, the painkiller didn't work. I felt like I was about to faint. The noises of our workmates, the weather, and even poor JJ's breathing was stressing me out. A break was what I needed, but I wouldn't be able to take one, so instead, I went to the bathroom. I didn't know Hotch was observing me from his seat, through the office window.

In the bathroom things weren't better. My forehead was covered in sweat, my throat felt dry and my legs and arm were about to give up. All of that was reflected on the mirror in front of me.

Someone knocked.

I opened the door and then my vision turned black. Next I remember strong arms embracing me on the floor. “That's it. I'm taking you home.” He said.

“I'm…” I tried to talk.

“No, you are not fine. Sometimes you need to hear your body and rest.” He explained gently, moving my hair out of my face. “You are going to drink water. I'm going to get your stuff and I'll take you home.” It was obvious there was no room for discussion.

“Got it, boss.” I whispered, letting myself smile on his chest. It wasn't a surprise how excited I was because he was taking care of me, even if I was feeling like shit. He was the warmth I needed.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #bau team #bau reader #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds #boss aaron hotchner #criminal minds stuff #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #writernagisaarchives #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

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lxvvie · 11 months ago

Text

Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Missus Princess Daddy edition:

Little Bean Riley (Simon calls her "Beanie" or "Bean" because she looked like a bean when she would scrunch up while sleeping as a baby) is a daddy's girl through and through, the apple of Simon's eye. It's his family's world, mate. He's just living happily in it. He also swears she would look at him like he was the most interesting science experiment and the most traitorous subject ever when she was a baby. Mm. He doesn't know where she got that from. ("You sure about that, Si?")

After you would feed her, she wouldn't be content just sitting in her baby chair. Simon would hold her with one arm and eat and drink with the other. Cue Queen Bean staring at him or, er, his food and drink and grabbing at it. "No, Beanie," Simon would gently say and there goes that stare again. How dare you say no to your Queen Bean, peasant father.

It's a pain in the ass that he has to shave a lot but it is what it is. Queen Bean does not approve, however, because while she loves to touch his scars and crooked nose, she really likes his stubble. For some odd reason. Cue the look of disappointment. Your baby girl turns to you for your support in this betrayal. "I know, sweetheart. I think the same thing," you say and Simon wonders where you two went wrong because you're supposed to be a TEAM lmao.

Queen Bean getting older and while she doesn't know what Simon truly does, the little girl is smart. She knows enough to know that Daddy should not be getting all the boo-boos he's getting when he comes home and she lets him know. "Bad, Daddy. Bad!" You nod in approval. Bloody hell, he's outmatched in his own home. "Sorry, Beanie," Simon says, but Her Majesty shan't be appeased that way. A trip to her and Simon's favorite bakery would suffice. She promises not to tell you about it.

Her Majesty has seen her destiny and come into her role. Thank you, Disney. Bean knows what she must do. She knows what Daddy must do. When Queen Bean can no longer protect the denizens of... Rileyland, Daddy must step up, and so, in pure Disney and Queen Bean flair, she crowns him... Princess Daddy of Rileyland. You tried your damndest not to laugh in Simon's face. Honestly. Truly. Not really. The name has stuck and now Simon is Princess Daddy around the house and he wonders how his eyeballs haven't managed to fall out what with the way he rolls his eyes so much. Just like there can only be one Missus, there can only be one Princess Daddy. It is him, Simon Riley, First of His Name, Missus Princess Daddy. He wears his titles with pride.

Princess Daddy must comport himself with the utmost poise befitting his status. The pinky finger must be out when drinking one's cuppa. He must wave to his subjects (Queen Bean's toys) with regality—bloody hell, he doesn't wave—and SWEAR JAR, Princess Daddy of Rileyland! He must also be available for cuddles, movie time, and daddy-daughter dates to the toy store and bakery. Always, Beanie. Always.

Simon has also become Beanie's personal mobile throne and jungle gym. A Queen's feet should never touch the ground after all. It's the way her eyes light up when she sits atop his shoulders and sees the world around her. The world that can (and will) one day be hers. It's the joy she radiates and it makes Simon's heart swell. And this is why he takes his duty as Missus Princess Daddy, Protector of Rileyland so seriously...

...Well, until he had to undergo a makeover. Because you and Bean watched the Princess Diaries. And because you really love doing self-care. Bloody hell. Have you ever seen a 6'4" mountain of a man, with scars and stubble aplenty, wearing a Hello Kitty face mask and some glittery nail polish on his fingers? Well, Simon supposes there's a first time for anything. His skin's never felt better, though, and he's yet to take the nail polish off. Mm. "Makes the wedding band stand out, yeah?" he asks you, and it actually does. Queen Beanie has impeccable taste as always.

And when your baby girl gets sick, Princess Daddy never leaves his daughter's side. Like hell he ever would. He must protect Rileyland after all. He's there to tuck her in, give her medicine, and soothe her pain as best he can. He risks the back pain, huge frame wrapped protectively around Queen Beanie as they nap in her bed. It's the cutest thing. You drape another blanket over them both before busying yourself with your own devices. You and Beanie couldn't ask for a better Protector.

#2queued4u.#dad!simon #call of duty #call of duty modern dadfare.#call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod x reader #cod x you #x black reader #x poc reader #x plus size reader #task force 141

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berrryparfait · 20 days ago

Note

I humbly request a deeper dive on lads as samurai . PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE

misty sunsets in edo japan ⋆˚✿˖°

➴ original post: cherry blossoms in edo japan

— ༉‧₊ᐟ featuring: samurai! rafayel, zayne, caleb, xavier, sylus x fem!reader

— ༉‧₊ᐟ premise: you are the sheltered daughter of a powerful clan leader in edo period japan. life in the estate sure would be boring without your samurai to keep you company... 「if you could do everything by yourself, i wouldn't have a reason to exist. ∼ tomoe, kamisama kiss」

— ♫₊ᐟ soundtrack: ad meliora – the charm park

✧ a/n: you asked, i delivered!! but in all seriousness, i was super excited to fulfill this request because...same. i really put my whole samurussy into this one so please enjoy! <3

祁煜 ; RAFAYEL

.✦ sword: image here

.✦ duties: ↳ scaling the walls of enemy fortresses to determine the most discreet way in ↳ stealth missions, during which he eliminates targets quickly and silently ↳ keeping track of enemy-related records, which include headcounts and other estimations

.✦ pastimes: ↳ teasing you and making sure you know just how ticklish you are ↳ reading, especially the romance and fantasy genres ↳ painting beautiful pictures of grand mountains and winding rivers

.✦ core memory #1: You walk into the garden to find it…already occupied. “What are you doing here?” you ask Rafayel, who’s sitting by the pond with a gentle smile on his face. A canvas stands in front of him, and you watch as his slender fingers play a melody that cannot be heard. Here, in this garden, Rafayel is a musician, and the paintbrush in his hand is his instrument. “Just painting the ducks.” A series of quacks sounds from the small body of water next to you, and you laugh at the adorable little ducklings as they try to keep up with their mother’s pace. “All of them? There’s like, a hundred!” He chuckles at you, then replies, “You’re right. I’m painting the littlest one. She’s so cute.” Your eyes travel to the smallest duckling of the pack, and she quacks at you. You’re mine. I’m gonna name you Mephisto. It isn’t until you return a few hours later—after he’s long abandoned his completed canvas—that you look down at the painting and see your face smiling back at you.

.✦ core memory #2: It’s dark outside, but you can’t fall asleep. You need to know he’s okay. He told you he’d come to you the moment he returned, but it’s been hours. The thought of something bad happening to him in the middle of nowhere, with no one around to confirm it, haunts you. As discreetly as possible, you tiptoe around the estate in the hopes of finding him. A trace of him. The sound of someone wincing in pain catches your attention. Your heart skips and you bolt towards the noise, finding yourself behind one of the old weapon shacks. “Raf?” You squint in the darkness, almost yelping out loud when you see him hunched on the ground, streaks of red covering his face and body. “Oh my god, Raf—” He’s badly injured, but he’s managed to bandage most of his wounds by himself. A tired smile graces his lips when he sees you. “One of the guys turned out to be a spy. Enemy clan—” His words come out clipped as you treat the rest of his cuts and bruises, tears threatening to spill from your eyes each time he winces. “He spared my life, but told me to run away and never come back here, so his identity could remain a secret— But I didn’t listen. I came back. I killed him, but it was a pretty fair fight—” He grunts in pain as he gestures to his injuries, a wry smile still plastered across his bloody face. “You idiot! Why on earth would you come back?!” You’re full-on sobbing now, and he gently wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re the idiot. You. I came back for you, Duckling.”

黎深 ; ZAYNE

.✦ sword: image here

.✦ duties: ↳ reporting directly to the clan leader as his right-hand man ↳ embarking on the longest, deadliest missions reserved for only the strongest in and most loyal to the clan ↳ monitoring most major administrative matters

.✦ pastimes: ↳ cooking, which he’s incredibly skilled at ↳ treating the sick and wounded, though he doesn’t receive a single cent in return ↳ silently watching you from afar

.✦ core memory #1: You stop short as a positively exquisite aroma wafts your way. It’s coming from the kitchens, which is to be expected—the head chef is usually cooking dinner at this hour. Maybe you could steal a bite or two if your pleading methods prove to be endearing enough once again. But when you step through the sliding kitchen doors, it isn’t the head chef you see. “Zayne?” you gasp, blinking stupidly at the sight of him stewing something over a small fire. He says nothing at first, and you consider fleeing while you still can, but sharp, icy eyes lock on yours as one foot crosses the threshold. “Not interested in having some for yourself?” Your stomach rumbles so loudly he can probably hear it, and you blush. His lips touch the ladle as he takes a sip of his own, green eyes never leaving yours. He extends the ladle to you, prompting you to drink from that very same spot. Hesitantly, you do.

.✦ core memory #2: It’s your turn to watch him today. You hear him before you see him, labored pants and grunts coming from the secluded training yard in the forest behind the estate. Weaving your way through the thick brush, his lean figure comes into view, sleek lines and strong curves barely illuminated by the silver moonlight. He isn’t wearing a shirt. You hold your breath while admiring his form, ruthless and wild as he strikes the large tree in front of him with a staff. It’s rare to see him lose control like this. Maybe something’s bothering him. Your footsteps reveal your presence before your words do. “What’re you doing out here so late?” He ignores you, but his blows grow harder, more merciless. “You can talk to me, you know.” He stops hitting then, breaths coming out harsh and unsteady. “I killed them. All of them,” he whispers, his features shrouded in darkness. Yesterday’s mission. Your heart pangs for him, imagining the horrors he’s had to face as your father’s most precious subordinate. Tentatively, you ask, “Is that why you help all those people? Why you heal them, and ask for nothing in return?” An act of repentance, perhaps? He says nothing.

以昼 ; CALEB

.✦ sword: image here

.✦ duties: ↳ daily samurai training as a junior ↳ physical and mental exercises that push his body to its limits ↳ guard duty every other night, to prevent intruders from breaking into the estate

.✦ pastimes: ↳ feeding the stray cats that wander around the estate ↳ swimming in the river with his buddies and catching fish with his bare hands ↳ climbing trees to find the best view of the flower fields below

.✦ core memory #1: “You can’t trust him.” Here he goes again. When will he stop badgering you about other guys? “I told you, I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions. Stop treating me like a child.” He scoffs at your statement like it’s the most absurd statement ever uttered by a human being. An older girl around his age walks up to the two of you, a slight spring in her step. She flirts with him, asking if he’d like to train her one-on-one tonight, which even you know is a euphemism for something else. Something unspeakable. He can’t hide the obvious blush on his face, and you roll your eyes like a little brat. “Let me guess, ‘No one could resist an offer like that?’ Yeah, yeah, go ahead and have your night of fun, dickhead.” He laughs at you, wide-eyed—fully chortles at you while you stare at him with your mouth agape. “Relax, Pipsqueak. I’m supposed to be chilling with you, remember? Who do you take me for?” He looks offended, but you can’t shake the nagging thought that he might just take her up on her offer anyway. (He doesn’t.)

.✦ core memory #2: He’s being all weird again. Why did he take you out here? The wind is howling, sending bits of grass flying into your eyes and mouth. Before you can ask him why you’re both standing in the middle of nowhere, he heaves himself up onto a fat tree branch. “Caleb, what are you—” “Shut up and join me.” You sigh in surrender he lifts you up, his touch searing your skin. Together, you climb higher and higher up the huge tree—though you struggle a little more than he does. When you finally see it, the breath is knocked out of your lungs. “Surprise, Pips.” Streaks of pink and gold pierce the sky as the most majestic sunset you’ve ever seen blankets the horizon. Hues of orange and purple and blue dance across the massive flower field below, flora of every kind rising up to meet them—to glimpse them. For the first time in your life, you’re truly speechless. “So? How do you like the view?” Every corner of the world feels visible from up here. The wind rushes through your hair, caressing your cheeks and eyelashes as if to say goodnight. And Caleb is sitting right next to you. You wish you could bottle this moment and keep it with you forever. “It’s beautiful,” you reply. He’s looking right at you when he whispers, “Yeah… It is.”

星回 ; XAVIER

.✦ sword: image here

.✦ duties: ↳ training the junior samurai, mainly on the physical front ↳ spying on enemy clans and factions by gaining their trust ↳ overseeing the clan’s inventory, which comprises weapons and armor

.✦ pastimes: ↳ tasting the chef’s newest delicacies straight from the kitchens ↳ playing the koto, which he’s…slowly getting better at ↳ taking naps beneath the shade of the old trees

.✦ core memory #1: No, you don’t like him. Yes, you like watching him train the others. Those two things can coexist, and they’re coexisting peacefully right now. Your arms are crossed while you watch him correct a young samurai’s stance, his instructions patient yet firm. He glances over at you before turning back towards the class. “Unimpressed?” he says flatly. You’ve been watching them with a quizzical expression on your face, apparently clear enough for him to notice. “It all just seems like something I could do.” You can’t help it. You’re a spoiled, prickly little brat—dishing out quips is in your nature. The look on his face shifts from uninterested to something darker, cautionary. “You better stay on the sidelines where I can see you. It isn’t your safety I’m worried about, in case that much isn’t clear.” My father. He answers to my father. All at once, you realize you couldn’t care less if Xavier gets in trouble with dear old Dad. You charge into the middle of the yard, headstrong as ever, aiming straight for the weapon racks. What to fail to realize, however, is that the hilt of a sword is headed right for your forehead. With a loud “thud”, you’re knocked senseless onto the ground, your head throbbing and aching and punishing you for being so stupid. Distantly, you feel a pair of gentle arms lift you up and carry you away from the others. Orders are given. Crowds are scattered. Reluctant words of consolation are whispered into your ear.

.✦ core memory #2: The morning sun washes over you as you step outside, elated to feel the warm grass beneath your bare feet. Father finally let you out of the estate today after you’d practically begged him to release you from your cozy prison, assigning you the menial task of finding pears for tonight’s supper. Pear trees, pear trees… You wander aimlessly through the field, getting distracted by songbirds and squirrels along the way— A soft sound emerges from behind the large oak up ahead. An animal? Quietly, you edge towards the source of the small noise, trying your best to make it out… Snoring? Closing the distance, you spot a familiar head of white hair perched against the bark, and the crease between your brows smooths. Your first instinct is to open your mouth to wake him, finding the thought of him glaring at your insolence satisfying. But upon closer inspection… His eyelashes really are quite long. His skin is…delicate, and would probably be nice to touch… He startles awake from your fingers, and you jump back in surprise. It’s too late. You can’t bottom out now. “Uhh… Mind if I join you…?” He doesn’t object. “Just…don’t touch me.” And so you lie there together, bodies stretched out on the grass and heads propped against the bulging roots; and at some point you can’t quite pinpoint, he ends up leaning on your shoulder anyway.

秦彻 ; SYLUS

.✦ sword: image here

.✦ duties: ↳ a lone samurai, his only duty is to himself and his survival ↳ stealing food and weapons from wealthier clans ↳ eliminating those who harm innocents or get in his way

.✦ pastimes: ↳ stargazing and charting the constellations, which interest him profoundly ↳ sharpening and perfecting his blade ↳ sneakily listening to local musical performances (a more recent development)

.✦ core memory #1: You walk along the winding road in comfortable silence, his presence a steady pillar you somehow know you can rely on. You still don’t know much about him; who he is, what his past was like, where he came from—but you’ve come to realize it doesn’t really matter to you anymore. Slowly but surely, you and this mysterious, deadly stranger have forged an unlikely…friendship? Is that what you are? In the distance, a familiar tune begins to play. “Hey, do you hear that?” you ask him, turning towards the music. “Ah. The locals in this village put on performances every other week, though I’ve never stopped to play audience.” A devilish grin pulls at your mouth as you grab him by the arm and drag him towards the festivities. He only resists for a second. It isn’t long before the spirit of the lilting song consumes you both, and you sway together in each other’s arms as it plays on—he, a little stiffly. You were wrong earlier. You want to get to know him more. You need to. It might just be the only way for your soul to breathe. You can’t hide from me anymore. I won’t let you.

.✦ core memory #2: His breath is in your ear as you struggle to remember the “weak spot” he mentioned mere seconds ago, but with your back flush against his chest, you can't focus on anything other than closing the nonexistent distance between you. His lips hover dangerously close to yours, and you swear you just felt his breath hitch. When you fail to strike him in time, he releases you from his grip, the blade in his hand glistening menacingly in the moonlight. His words come out harsh and intimidating. “Again. If you want to become a samurai, you’ll have to live long enough to make it to the—” You cut him off. “Do you care about me?” The question surprises you as much as it does him, vulnerability lacing your words as they force their way to the surface. He pauses, a serious expression on his face. “I care about getting what I want.” Lie. You push on, seeing through him like he’s a wall of glass. “Come back with me,” you begin, your voice wobbly and uncertain, but earnest. “My father will let you live. He’ll even give you a place to stay, at my request. We can train together, and we’ll never be far from each other’s side.” You don’t say the glaring part out loud. You can’t bring yourself to. But deep down, you know he understands. He always does. A long pause. “I can’t, sweetie.” It’s final. You can tell it is. Will you ever be content living like this—meeting in the shadows and sharing secret conversations? Can anyone love someone that much?

— ⋆˙⟡ ©berrryparfait

《 please do not copy / plagiarize / translate my works or publish them on any other platforms. 》

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lllivia · 9 days ago

Text

I could help you

Ellie Williams x f!reader

Summary: Ellie helps you out 😛

Warnings: smut, non apocalyptic scenario, cocky (slightly loser) Ellie, top!Ellie, bottom!reader, frustrated!reader, NOT proofread

It had only gone four out of the six weeks the doctor had ordered for you to have your cast on - and you were already feeling like you were about to rip it off with your bare hands (which of course was impossible). What luck was it that the one fucking time you felt like skating without a helmet, you had skidded over some tiny little pebble and in an attempt to break your fall - breaking your wrist instead.

It was so hard to do quite literally anything when your dominant hand was all bandaged up, but by far one of the worst things was the masturbation. God, it was so frustrating, it seemed like any little thing could set you off at this point after going so long without a release.

You had tried getting off of course, but it only ended up hurting you more than it giving any sort of measurable pleasure, which only built up the sexual frustration that was at this point running 24/7 through your veins.

"Soo what d'you wanna do now?" Ellie smirked up at you from where she sat on the floor, just having beaten you for like the 7th time in the row in street fighter - which she claimed was all because of her pure "talent"x and not because you had a useless hand that couldn't help you make any proper combos.

"I don't know - you tell me, it's not much I can do with this fucked up wrist that doesn't cause me any pain" you sighed and layed back down onto your bed, pissed that the broken bone once again came in your way of doing anything fun.

"Alright.. How about we play some truth or dare?" She chuckled, standing up to sit next to where you lay, immediately getting comfy on the familiar blankets.

"What are you, ten?" You couldn't help but laugh - you hadn't played truth or dare since like early high school. But Ellie only raised her eyebrow at you "Have any better idea ms. "I can't think of anything to do"?"

And ig she was right, there really wasn't anything. "Okay okay you got me" You smiled, never able to resist your best friends pretty face.

"I'll get you to spill all of your deepest and darkest secrets" she wiggled her eyebrows ridiculously as if you didn't already tell eachother basically anything. "So, truth or dare."

You thought for a second - she wouldn't make you do something really stupid, would she?who we're you kidding, she totally would.

"Truth I guess" you answered hesitantly, slightly nervous about what she might ask.

"Umm when was the last time you finished a book" she asked, clearly not having thought as far as to get to the questions.

"Seriously dumbass, you don't have anything better than that?" You laughed and slapped her knee, unbeknownst to you making her grin just with your closeness. "Your turn then.. Truth or dare?"

She shrugged "Dare, obviously. I'm not a wimp" her smirk showing off her white teeth as you playfully hit her again.

"Fine, you have to text the last person you ghosted and tell them you need them" It was your turn to smirk as Ellie's face dropped, both of you knowing exactly who she had to text.

"You asshole! You know it was Dina, I can't just message her now after like 4 months" Ellie grimaced, the memory of when she suddenly stopped texting the girl back now fresh in her mind.

"I didn't say I would play fair" the laugh escaping you sounded down right sinister as you watched the brunette pick up her phone and send the text before slamming it down again on your mattress.

"Your turn, and don't even think I'm gonna play nice now" she had moved closer in the excitement, your bodies almost pressing against each other - which neither of you felt like commenting on. Not wanting to ruin the chance of being so close.

Worried she was going to make you do something absolutely humiliating you couldn't help with going for what you thought was the easy way out again. But oh my were you wrong. "Truth."

"Are you fucking kidding me y/n! You're such a pussy" Ellie groaned before widening her eyes at the perfect question.

"Well it's not in the rules that I can't choose truth two times in a row" you cheesed, pure smugness dripping off your tone.

"When's.. The last time you jacked off?" She smirked proudly, enjoying the embarrassment that quickly embraced your face.

"What the actual fuck Ellie, you creep!" You gaped, once again punching her leg.

"Ow - Well, you have to say it. It's the rules!" Your best friend laughed loudly while throwing her head back. She had for sure gotten the reaction she wanted after her last dare.

You thought about it for a moment before rolling your eyes "ok fine.. I guess about like 4 weeks ago" looking away your cheeks started burning hot, there was definitely some kind of unspoken boundary that just got crossed. "But it's only because of this stupid useless hand that I can't fucking get off!"

Well shit, you had definitely said too much now.

It was Ellie's time to gape now, her mind starting to race at the simple sentence.

All she could think of doing was licking her cracked lips and blushing before thinking of something to say. "I could.. Help you? Yk.. If you want."

You almost laughed straight in her face. There was no way she was being serious right now, what the hell did she mean by helping you?

"..What?" Your almost squeeky voice sounded out, unable to stop the warmth pooling into your lower belly at the situation that was happening right in front of you.

"I could get you off" her body was fully turned towards you now, she couldn't even believe herself for being so bold. God, she hoped this wouldn't ruin the perfect relationship you already had.

"Okay" you answered breathely, you legs unknowingly starting to rub against each other slightly - something that didn't go unnoticed by Ellie.

"Okay?" Waiting to confirm what she thought she just heard, she could almost feel herself twitching in anticipation.

"Okay" you laughed breathily, what was happening right now.

Ellie didn't waste any more time, and practically jumped your bones on the spot. She didn't waste any time on formalities and crawled down your body until she reached your pajama pants.

"You're so pretty" she looked up and smirked "but you'd be prettier without these" she plucked at the band of your pants before letting it snap back into place.

"You're so fucking corny" you rolled your eyes playfully, ignoring the fact that you were basically already dripping in arousal.

"Whatever you say" her eyes never leaving you as she slid the pants down your smooth skin, however many times she had seen you change could never compare with the feeling that embraced her now while actually being the one stripping you down.

All that was left on your lower body now was your underwear, which Ellie felt the strange want to rip off with her teeth - oh how many times she had imagined you under her like this. Restraining from the action she looked up at you once again as to double check that what she was doing was alright, before finally removing your panties in a haste.

She stopped to stare for a second, taking in your beauty in case this was the one and only time she would ever do this. "You're so pretty baby, might have to break your wrist more often" You rolled your eyes playfully - even when you were basically trying to hump her face and whimpering in need.

"C'mon Ellie - just fuck me already" you breathed as she took her time viewing and kissing your thighs.

"Alright alright, no need to beg baby. I'm right here, I'll help you."

And she finally did. Her tongue gleefully licking through your already soaked folds as she held you down while you writhed. "God, you taste so good" she moaned, using two fingers to rub up and down your pussy - enjoying the slick that quickly covered her digits.

But as much as she was enjoying the look of pure need and desperation in your eyes while she slowly teased you, she couldn't hold on for long before she pushed the two already lubed up fingers into you.

You immediately squeezed around her and gasped, fuck, no warning? But the slight sting from the stretch dissipated almost immediately as she started curling her fingers into you, her tongue simultaneously tracing figure 8s on your throbbing clit.

"S-shit Ellie!" Wow, you hadn't noticed how much you needed this until it was actually happening. And the fact that it was Ellie - your literal best friend and crush, that leading you towards your forthcoming orgasm was reeling you closer and closer to the edge faster than you had ever managed to do with your own fingers.

"Huh, you like that?" Her pace never slowed before she decided it was time to add a third finger, loving the feeling of you squeezing around her.

"Yes, yes! I needed this so bad" your high pitched voice sounded out while you painted for air, aggressively using your one good hand to grab onto Ellie's hair and pushing her closer to you - not even noticing as she whimpered slightly at the feeling.

"You gonna come? I mean shit, y/n, I can literally feel the way you're suffocating my fingers" She chuckled and sped up a bit as she talked.

"Mhm - yeah I'm gonna come" it seemed like the only thing in the world that was real was Ellie as she flicked her tongue one last teasing time against you.

A pleasure better than you'd ever felt crashed down all at once, almost drowning you. The warmth of Ellie's tongue never disappeared while your orgasm lasted, the girl on top of you never letting up until you were a twitching mess against her, weakly trying to push her away while whimpering lowly.

When you finally felt as though you could speak again you looked over at her already staring form, her face having a tiny blushing smile adorned all over it as she looked at you.

"Was that good?" Even after she had made you experience the most jaw dropping experience of your life she still had the nerve to ask such a stupid question.

"Yes dumbass, that was literally the best orgasm I've ever had" you grinned and layed back, closing your eyes - if you could just stay in this moment forever you would, resting as Ellie hummed and traced tiny hearts onto your bare stomach.

Well, that was so much better than playing some stupid video game.

a/n: I'm writing this at 1 in the morning so excuse if it's a bit wonky - ALSO SEND REQUESTS PLS, I'M OUT OF CREATIVITY 😪🙏

MAIN MASTERLIST

#tlou #tlou 2 #tlou ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #loser ellie smut #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie the last of us #made by lllivia

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sleighhethereal · 1 year ago

Text

• so like

• the little ones around the mountain would get groomed by Wukong atleast once a month.

• it's just, the sight of it getting into their eyes really bothers the shit outta him.

• because we all know Wukong takes care of himself, such as; shaving his eyebrows, managing his fur, probably does skincare like cucumbers over his eyes and putting vaseline over his lips.

• so he'd make schedules for each little monkey and groom them.

• but

• the little guys hate it, they hate it so much.

• Wukong would struggle so much cutting their long fur, since the little ones would squirm really hard and he had to buy a little muzzle so they wouldn't bite him.

"Just a little— hey, heY! No biting, be grateful! You hafta look up just to see a goddamn flower!"

• Wukong always feels bad doing it because the little ones would whine like they were crying, but like— he barely touched them, so he doesn't know what to feel.

• here comes you, saving the day, because he asked you for help— promising to just fetch you via cloud.

• the plan was simple, you'd hold them while he snips at their long hairs.

• you once asked him why couldn't he just summon like ten of his monkey clones to assist him, but he'd always make up some excuse like..

"I mean, you're already here and my head hurts, ya know? Using my power just drains me, you don't want to see me in pain, do you?"

• gives you the sparkly-eyes like a wet dog

• he just wants to spend time with you but he'd never say it seriously.

• it was actually funny seeing him scold the monkeys for moving too much, or threatening to bite him.

• you'd hum the little ones silly little Disney songs or random lullabies to distract them from the razor's buzzing, since that seemed to stress them out, causing them to struggle.

• it was fun, just the two of you hanging out.

• when you guys were done after a few days, Wukong would build up courage to ask you out on a few outings... dates, if you wanna call them that.

• all perfect until Macaque decided to join for no damn reason.

• i mean, there is a reason, Macaque wants you too.

• Macaque would accidentally push Wukong into one of his shadow portals and offer his help to you.

"OH MY GODS, MACAQUE!"

"What? He's fine, he's many times immortal. He needs exercise every now and then. Enough about him, did you miss me?"

• he'd say it so sweetly as Wukong would zip back to his mountain, wet and angry because Macaque just dumped his ass into the ocean.

• that piece of shit. Macaque knows what he's doing.

• he never knew why but the little ones are always much more calmer with Macaque.

• they'd barely move and sometimes they'd fucking fall asleep.

• you didn't even need to do anything.

"Just sit still and look pretty. Now tell me, baby, how was your day?"

• fuming Wukong

• Wukong would just pout and grumble as he watched you and Macaque converse, hearing Macaque's little hidden insults about him- but you didn't know.

• they'd fist-fight when you leave, yelling and throwing insult here and there. they'd never fight in front of you, atleast not physically.

• would pinch and poke each others sides while you weren't looking, lightning struck inbetween their eyes as they fought for your attention.

• at the end of the day, they'd definitely work together to make you happy— but that doesn't magically make them get along, no.

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie king #lego macaque #lego wukong #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid sun wukong #sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x y/n #monkie kid macaque #lmk macaque #six eared macaque #macaque #liu er mihou #macaque x reader #macaque x y/n #grown ass monkeys fighting over you #you know this but dont do anything #because its funny watching them quarrel

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anime-fan-05 · 17 days ago

Note

Mikey, Kazutora, Izana and Waka's headcanons with a fem reader who gets hurt because she receives a blow meant for them and ends up in hospital

Tokyo Revengers ~Receiving a blow meant for them~

Manga/anime: Tokyo Revengers

Warnings: nothing

(Y/N): your name

(S/O): significant other

Mikey, Kazutora and Izana's headcanons are set in the 2005 timeline, Waka's in that of 2008, when he's in Brahman. Happy reading!

Premise

(S/O) didn't want his girlfriend (Y/N) to attend his gang's fights as a spectator: she would be at risk of getting hurt, and he wouldn't be able to be there to protect her, not to mention the rival gangs would have affiliated her with him, and she would have been in even more danger!

However, that day (Y/N) insisted on coming to watch him so much he had no choice but to agree to bring her with him, so, while fighting, he involuntarily continuously searches for her figure, checking she's still safe and sound.

His action, though, is making him less attentive than usual, which is why he doesn't notice a member of the gang he's fighting approaching him with a knife in his hand, determined to kill him or seriously injure him.

(Y/N) notices them instead and, without thinking twice, she throws herself headlong into the fray, placing herself in front of (S/O) and thus being seriously injured by the knife, which pierces her right side.

S. Manjiro (Mikey)

His eyes will widen, becoming like saucers, and he'll remain still, muttering your name, when you receive the blow

As soon as your legs begin to give way due to the serious wound, though, he'll force his body to move, diving to catch you to prevent you from falling to the ground, desperately screaming your name

For the first time his gang will see him so shocked, angry and desperate: on one hand he'll have an expression of horror mixed with pain on his face, on the other his eyes and his arms and hands will tremble from the deep anger that will pervade him

In fact, he'll be so angry he'll really want to kill, or at least violently beat, who hurts you; he'll also be furious with himself for not having protected you as he had promised himself

He'll stay with you in the hospital and refuse to leave you (Draken will have to drag him out by force to make sure he eats and gets at least a few hours of sleep) and, as soon as you wake up after your operation, he'll promise you he'll never let you get hurt like that again with a face so serious you'll hardly recognize him

H. Kazutora

His reaction will be twofold: either he'll freeze, totally paralyzed, or he'll go completely mad

If the first happens, he'll act that way because his brain will be fully realizing what has happened: he'll be so shocked he'll freeze, fearing he's lost what's most precious to him, namely you

In the event the second happens, there's a huge risk he'll be so angry with the person who hurts you he'll even kill them

In any case, whatever his reaction, there will be a moment when he'll believe you're dead and, after the anger and shock, the tears will come: he'll burst into tears, desperately holding your body close to him, until he notices you're still breathing, and then he'll immediately abandon the fight, rushing you to the hospital

For the entire time you're there, he'll refuse to leave you, and the first thing he'll say to you when you wake up after your operation is completed will be: "Please, please, don't terrify me like that anymore, don't do it again... Don't leave me: I won't survive if you aren't here, I'll go crazy..."

K. Izana

He'll madden, no one can dissuade me from this idea: for him you're his queen, and no one, no one should ever dare to lay hands on you

He'll order his subordinates to capture who hurts you, while he'll rush you to the hospital, telling you not to die in a voice so thin you'll believe you imagined it in your haze due to your wound

He'll remain outside the operating room until he has the assurance you're okay, nervous and worried about your health and angry with who hurts you, with himself for having let you get hurt, with you for having convinced him to let you attend the fight

As soon as he's certain about your health, he'll rush to your attacker, wanting to make him pay dearly for having touched you: his entire gang will be even more terrified of him than they were before and will think twice before having any thoughts about you

Then he'll go to the hospital again when Kakucho, who he'll have ordered to watch over you and to notify him as soon as you wake up, calls him; for the first time you'll see him so vulnerable, as he'll hug you softly and whisper to you to let him get hurt if that would have allowed you to be safe

I. Wakasa (Waka)

It'll be the first time someone sees him so shocked: he'll lose his proverbial stoicism as soon as he sees you fall in front of him; he'll be totally panicked, he'll beg you not to die while holding you close to him ("Princess, please, stay with me, don't close your eyes!")

He'll rush you to the hospital on his motorbike, getting honked at by a lot of cars due to his speed and reckless overtaking

When Senju, Takeomi and Benkei arrive there, they'll find him totally destroyed, almost in tears and with his head in his hands: he'll be desperate, fearing of having lost you, the person he loves more than himself, due to his own fault, out of a stupid fight he let you witness and a stupid mistake that caused you to be hurt instead of him

They'll do everything they can to calm him down and reassure him, but all their attempts will fail, since he won't find peace until he knows your operation has been successful and you'll be fine

As soon as he can, he'll rush to see you, and for the first and also last time you'll hear him begging you to never do something like that again, promising you he'll never let anyone hurt you again, admitting he loves you more than anything

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

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coolemmasulivan2 · 9 months ago

Text

Clumsy Woman

Pairing: Rúben Dias x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn't like how clumsy you are, afraid you might seriously injure yourself.

Word count: 1976

Can't pretend to understand I'll be here to hold your hand I will wait for you, I will wait for you

You had been clumsy from a young age. Falling from trees, falling off bicycles, or simply tripping over your own feet seemed to be your speciality. It was during one of these graceful performances that you met your boyfriend, Ruben. You were barreling toward a magnificent face-plant when his strong arms caught you, saving you from certain embarrassment.

"I want to paint that wall!" You announced over breakfast one morning, your eyes sparkling with determination. "A deep blue, maybe."

Ruben raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the wall. "That bookshelf has to go first." He pointed out. "It's heavy. We can do it together this weekend." He kissed your forehead and grabbed his keys. "I have to go!"

"Bye." Your attention was still on the wall and Ruben knew what you were thinking.

"Don't do it!" He called out as he reached for his bag. "Wait for me."

"But it's my day off!" You protested, already picturing the transformed wall. "I can at least start." Ruben gave you a look. "Fine." He gave you one final kiss on the lips and then left for training.

You didn't like to stay still at home. There was always a compulsion to be busy, so when boredom crept in, your eyes fell on the wall, then the bookshelf. Maybe it wasn't that difficult. With a burst of energy, you dashed out the door to buy the paint and everything you needed to paint the wall.

At home, you slip into old clothes and turn up the music. The bookshelf was packed with your books and Ruben's trophies. He'd be furious if he saw you right now, but you would prove you could handle it alone.

The bookshelf, a dark wood monster that dominated the room, had been a custom order. You started by emptying it, a task that required more muscle than expected. Then came the acrobatics. With much effort, you managed to slide a rug under one end. But as you attempted to repeat the same on the other side, disaster hit. Your hands slipped and the bookshelf came crashing down on your bare foot. A scream ripped through you as pain exploded.

"Don't do it!" Ruben's words echoed in your head. He was so going to kill you.

With a grunt of effort, you lifted the bookshelf off your foot. Pain shot through you as you collapsed to the floor, cradling your injured limb. It looked horrific, swollen and red. Trying to stand was a mistake, as a fresh wave of agony crippled you. You couldn't walk.

"Oh God, oh God!" Panic set in. Your phone was fumbled out of your pocket. You needed help, and you needed it now. Ruben wouldn't be home for hours. Calling an ambulance was the only option.

Ruben stepped into the locker room, and he heard the insistent vibration of his phone. "That thing hasn't stopped ringing." Bernardo commented, a grin spreading across his face.

Ruben's brow furrowed as he glanced at the caller ID. It was Lily, your best friend. "Hey, Lily, everything okay?"

"Hi Ruben, sorry to bother you, but I was supposed to meet Y/N at your place, and she’s not there and a neighbour mentioned seeing an ambulance at your building." His blood ran cold. "Do you know what happened?"

"I can't believe her!" His voice rose in frustration. "She wanted to paint the wall, the one with the bookshelf. I told her not to touch it!" A wave of dread washed over him.

"She probably didn't listen. Oh God." Lily knew you better than anyone. Your stubborn independence was legendary. "I've tried calling her, but no answer."

"Let me take a shower really quick and then I'll call you back."

Bernardo and Walker exchanged concerned glances. "What's going on, man? Your girl in trouble again?" Walker asked, his tone laced with disbelief.

"Looks like it!" Ruben replied, his voice rough. "She can't stay out of trouble for five minutes. Fuck." He desperately searched for the contact of his friend Eric who worked at the hospital. He answered on the fourth ring.

"Hey, mate, what's up?"

"Eric, man, sorry to bother you, I know you're working, but I need a huge favour." Ruben rushed out, his voice was laced with urgency.

"Shoot!" Eric replied, his tone professional.

"Can you check if Y/N was admitted to the hospital? I think she might have had an accident. Again." He quickly explained the situation, his voice rising with each word. Eric promised to check and call back in a few minutes.

"I'm gonna be quick in the shower." Ruben said, turning to his friends. "If Eric calls, can you answer? Please." Walker and Bernardo nodded.

He'd never showered so fast in his life. Emerging a few minutes later, Bernardo was already on the phone.

"I'll tell him, thanks, Eric," Bernardo said, hanging up.

Ruben's heart pounded in his chest. "So?"

"She's there. Broken foot, but she's okay." Bernardo reported.

"For fuck's sake."

You rolled your eyes as Ruben burst into the hospital room. His face was a mask of irritation. Lily, who'd arrived earlier, squeezed your hand in silent support before stepping back.

"Seriously, Y/n?" Ruben’s voice was dripping with disbelief. "I told you to stay put."

"I'm fine, thanks for the concern." You replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You loved him and knew he was worried, but sometimes it felt suffocating.

"A broken foot means you’re not." He disagreed. "Can’t you just stay still for one day?"

You didn’t want to argue, especially as he seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. "I’m a grown woman, Ruben. I don’t need you to tell me to sit still."

"Well, you don’t act like one. Sometimes I feel like I’m dating a child." His response was harsh and unexpected.

Shock washed over you. Had he really just said that?

"Maybe you should break up with this child then. I wouldn’t want to keep the great Ruben Dias from the real women in the city." You retorted, your voice trembling with anger.

He ran his hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. He knew his words had been cruel, but his worry often manifested in this way. But breaking up with you was the last thing he wanted.

"You know that’s not what I meant-- what are you doing?" He began, but you cut him off as you tried to stand, to reach for the crutches. He pushed you back down, but you quickly pushed his hand away.

"Lily, can you take me home, please?" You asked, ignoring Ruben completely.

Lily, who had been a silent observer, helped you up.

"I can take you home!" Ruben offered.

"I don’t want you to take me home." You replied coldly. "You don’t have a car seat for a child, remember?"

Using crutches was something familiar. This wasn’t your first rodeo. You had broken other body parts before.

In the car, Lily broke the tense silence. "You know he’s just worried about you."

"I know, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat me like a child. "He has known since the beginning how clumsy I am. If he can’t handle it, maybe we shouldn't be together."

"Don’t say that!" Lily replied, her voice firm. "You two can't live without the other." Through the rearview mirror, you saw Ruben’s car following you. "I know it’s hard, but try to understand his point of view."

You looked away, trying to focus on anything but the conversation. You knew Lily was right. Ruben loved you, and his overprotectiveness came from that love. But it was hard to accept when it felt like he was suffocating you.

As the car pulled up to your apartment building, you felt a pang of sadness hit you. Lily opened your door, and carefully you stepped out. "Thanks for everything, Lily. I really appreciate it."

She smiled. "Anytime, Babe! Call me if you need anything, okay?"

You nodded and the the help of the clutches you walked towards the building entrance. As you turned around, you saw Ruben's car waiting for the garage door of the building to open up. You hesitated, looking at his car for a long moment before turning and going inside.

When you entered the house, you realised that your books were scattered like confetti, Ruben's trophies were still on the dining table, and the monstrous bookshelf stood there, a mocking presence in the room. It was impossible to clean it up. Not with your foot like that.

A few minutes later, Ruben entered the house and he looked around it. You were nowhere to be seen, but by the sound of the water running, he knew you were taking a shower. Without his help.

What if you fell? He shocked the thought out of his head. You needed space and he was going to give it to you. Kind of.

Jumping from the shower with only one foot and the other in the air, you dried yourself and put on your pyjamas. You felt like everything was hurting, but you had to prove a point to Ruben. You could do things alone without needing his help.

As you opened the bedroom door, the smell of the food hit you and your belly made a noise, not realising how starving you were. However what surprised you the most was not Ruben cooking but the fact the bookshelf was no longer on the wall that you wanted to paint, but the wall in front of it, with all his trophies and your books. Everything was really clean and the small lamp you had on the corner where you sat reading was welcoming.

The table was set, and Ruben was busy tossing salad at the kitchen island. When he saw you emerge from the bedroom, he paused, his expression softening.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was gentle, laced with concern.

You met his gaze with a cold stare. "Fine."

You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, walking around the kitchen with surprising ease on your crutches. Ruben watched your movements with a mixture of relief and worry.

He sighed, setting down the salad bowl. "Can we talk?"

You scoffed. "Are you sure you want to do that? You think talking to a child is easy?" Your voice was sharp, but a pang of hurt shot through you as the words left your lips.

Ruben rinsed his hands and pulled out two chairs. Gently, he guided you to one and sat down across from you. His hands rested lightly on your bare legs. "I'm so sorry for calling you a child. I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It still hurt." You mumbled.

"I know, I know. I've been overprotective." He admitted. "But every time you get hurt, it feels like my heart stops. I worry about you constantly. But calling you a child was wrong, and I'm truly sorry."

Your anger was slowly dissipating. You couldn't stay mad at him for long. He always knew how to break through your walls. "You're an idiot if you think this is the last time I'll hurt myself." You retorted, trying to sound tough.

He chuckled softly. "Let me be an idiot, then. I love you, you know that, right?"

Ruben's eyes held yours. Slowly, he leaned forward, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as his gaze lowered to your lips.

With a hesitant touch, his lips met yours. It was a soft and passionate kiss. As the kiss deepened, you felt a surge of relief and happiness wash over you. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

A small smile crept onto your face. "I know. I love you too."

#footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football imagine #footballer x y/n #ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias imagine #rúben dias

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femmenature · 18 days ago

Text

Devoted to you

The creator of this content does not speak English, constructive criticism on grammar is welcome😭

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader (without a house specified)

Summary: You and Mattheo aren't serious. But seeing you in class talking so animatedly with another guy makes his feelings take an unexpected turn.

Warnings: Bad words, mentions of sexual topics (almost none)

Mattheo usually didn't pay attention in class, his only role was to occasionally annoy Theodore. But now? He'd never been so focused, watching everything you did, the way you looked at the idiot sitting next to you. The way your eyelashes fluttered, causing him to constantly need to see you. The way one of your legs was draped over the other, lifting your skirt. The way your hair was positioned in the perfect place, a small strand falling across your face as if it had been an paid actor to make you look even more beautiful and romantic. The way your perfume filled the classroom, making it impossible to ignore it, to ignore you. Your laughter filled every corner of his mind, but knowing that you weren't laughing with him, but with someone else, made his hands tremble with envy, with anger. A sigh of longing escaped his lips, and a look of need for you appeared, unwilling and unable to hide it.

"What the hell are you doing?" He thought to himself. He knows you're not in a relationship with him, he knows it's nothing serious, so why did he let this feeling get this far? Why did he let it go so deep? Now he knows that by not saying it, by hiding it, his body is starting to give it away. The vein in his neck, his trembling hands, his labored breathing, the anguish in his chest, his clenched jaw and his piercing eyes on you. It's impossible to hide it, he's desperate. And on the other hand, he wondered how the hell you're not feeling the same as him, how can you be talking to someone else when you both know each other so well, so deeply. And it's not just about the sex and the passion in bed anymore. Was it casual when you listened to his family's problems while he lay on your chest? When he cried sitting on your bed waiting for you to appear, knowing that you were the only one who knows about his darkness, about his father?

When he could no longer hide his pain, Mattheo abruptly stood up from his seat, earning a couple of glances, though he was only interested in yours. He didn't care, since all he needed was to get out of there right now. When he was finally able to escape the classroom, he walked quickly through the empty hallways, since everyone was in class, where he should be. But a voice made him stop in his tracks, and the only one who can do that is you, he knows it very well.

"Mattheo, what's going on? Why did you leave like that?" Your voice comes out in a wary tone. You're worried, he never did that, he always seemed so cool and carefree. Even though you know him, you know him too well for that action to go unnoticed. You know he didn't leave like that because he was bored with class or because he was having a rebellious moment; it's more than that.

Without turning around, Mattheo spoke to you calmly, trying to control his voice so you wouldn't find out what was really wrong with him. "It's nothing, go back to class. I don't feel like being there, so I just left. You can tell them I feel bad or some lie like that." You rolled your eyes, knowing it was bullshit. Why would he lie to you now? Knowing so much about each other, what is he hiding from you that it's so serious? "Seriously, you expect me to believe your excuse?"

"I don't expect anything from you. I saw you were having fun, so I don't mean to interrupt," he snapped. Your shoulders tensed, and you watched as his fists clenched, trying to hold back the words eager to escape his throat. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? And turn around if you're going to accuse me of stupid things, Mattheo."

His body turns slowly, looking into your eyes. He couldn't help but love the way you command him, the way you control him so effortlessly, the way you have him wrapped around your fingers. He needs you to keep playing with him like he's your puppet. He'd let you do whatever you want to him, but he doesn't say it. He can't tell you, he can't look weak in front of everyone, in front of you. But the truth is, he's devoted to you. Every word, every order, every complaint, every step you take toward him is a dagger in his chest. Your face is the most sacred art to him; he'd tear down every painting at Hogwarts to fill them with you. Your legs, your hands, your lips, your eyes.

His eyes remained fixed on you, the brightness in them evident every thought that crossed his mind. With a small, frustrated whisper, he finally spoke. "Am I really nothing to you? Because I'm going crazy just looking at you and you seem so... cold about it." Your eyebrows raised for a second, unable to maintain a neutral face while listening to him. "What are you talking about? You started this by establishing that we're not serious at all, in fact, that we never will be."

"I know, I know what I said. But that was before I knew you, really knew you. Before I didn't know how sweet your voice was when you tried to cheer me up. I didn't know how soft your hands were when you caressed my face. I didn't know that someone could wake up so beautiful and I didn't know that each one of my sighs would be eternally dedicated to you. The time we spent together during these months changed me, like my face has never been so good since you came into my life, without all those injuries. Everyone asks me why I don't get into fights like before, and even I surprise myself. Until I remember who I do it for, I do it for you and that is reason enough to stop. You are reason enough for everything you want me to do, just tell me, tell me what I have to do to be only yours because truly I don't want anyone else"

Your body is drawn to his words, your steps moving closer to him, standing face to face. You couldn't hide your smile, how could you? This is the moment you've been waiting for. "First, I want to make something clear. I wasn't having fun in class, I laughed at the jokes he told out of obligation, I didn't want to be that bad either. I think you know my real laugh well enough to know that it was fake." His face relaxes, letting out his characteristic smirk. "Second: you don't need to do anything, Mattheo Riddle. I was yours the moment you asked my name so confidently. Although I tried to avoid it, I guess the rumors are true. You're irresistible," you said the last bit ironically, while he let out a small laugh, rolling his eyes. "So... is this the right time to ask you to be my girlfriend? Or do I have to make a fool of myself again, but this time in front of the entire Hogwarts dining hall? Because if you want, I will." You tilt your head slightly, looking into his eyes, still with a smile on your face. "Come here, idiot." You pull him by the tie and kiss his lips, which you knew so well, but now it's different. Now it's better, because he's yours.

I owed this to my Harry Potter girls. 🫡💚

Maybe I'll release one of Van's today! Again, I apologize if I misspelled anything!

#benjamin wadsworth #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #harry potter #harry potter x reader #slytherin #slytherin x reader #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez x you #marcus lopez

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brokenmenswhore · 9 months ago

Note

Hey hey! I love your Aegon fics so much that I want to know if you would write a story where after your kid with Aegon passed away, he promised never to touch you again so you wouldn't have to endure bearing more of his kids and witnessing their death. But you yearn for your husband every night and will act dirty to make him touch you again. By acting dirty I mean doing sexy things to instigate him when he's alone with you.

of all the things in this life that i’m good at, being intentionally sexy is NOT one of them, so i’m hoping this isn’t awkward :) my biggest fear is that someone’s gonna not like what i write for their request i’m on my knees pls don’t hate me

all in | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targeryen x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of a deceased child, smut (MDNI 18+)

────── ☾ ──────

It had been three long, dark, and lonely months since the death of your son.

He passed away at only a few weeks of age due to health complications, and both you and your husband, Aegon, were left devastated.

Aegon had a tendency to blame himself for anything negative in his life, his self hatred running through the depths of his soul. Your son was his heir, and he felt as if he lost a piece of himself, and blamed himself for the health issues your child was having. “It must be from me,” he would whisper to himself, almost incapable of accepting that some things he could not be faulted for.

When Grand Maester Orwyle proclaimed your son dead, Aegon broke. He was hysterical, unable to speak, the only sound from his lips was an occasional scream of anger and sadness. You grieved in private, the joy you felt from your son’s birth still so recent that your stomach was still not yet back to a normal state.

The first few weeks were hard on both of you, but you at least attempted to lean on each other. However, Aegon was difficult to console when he got in his own head. You were both laying awake in bed, comforting one another when your hand ran across his chest, toying with his shirt. As difficult as the week had been, you were desperate to feel close to your husband in some capacity other than sadness and grief.

Aegon sighed and moved your hand away, rolling over on his side and turning his back toward you. You stayed stagnant and stared at him for a moment. “Aegon?”

“We can’t.”

“I know this grief is still very new, but I-“

“We can’t, ever.”

You sat in disbelief. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes at his words. You were in need of comfort, as was Aegon, and his declaration frustrated you. “And why not?”

“I refuse to risk putting you through this again.”

You were speechless. You tried to think of something to say, a few small noises leaving your lips as you tried to begin a sentence, but to no avail.

Aegon could hear your attempts. “What you have been through these past few weeks- I cannot watch you bear another one of my children, only to endure the pain of losing them again. I have never seen you happier than the day our son was born, and now-“ Aegon’s voice trailed off, “It is not worth the risk.”

Tears of sadness and frustration were now freely falling, Aegon’s back still to you as you spoke, “you do not seriously intend for us to never be intimate again. For the rest of our lives, Aegon, I need you. I am all in. Are you not? Do you not need me as well?”

“I need to relieve you of this pain more,” he responded, “and there are more than enough whores in King’s Landing.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his final comment. You couldn’t believe he said such a thing. You knew he was hurting, and oftentimes pushed you away when he was, and you decided to assume it was an intentionally harmful comment meant to do just that. You chose to believe that he didn’t really mean it, but you still wished he didn’t say it. You understood his pain, but that didn’t make it alright to take it out on you.

You didn’t dignify his comment with a response, you simply rolled out of bed, fighting to maintain your composure as you walked out of the room, slowly shutting the door behind you.

The next morning, you returned to your shared chambers to ready yourself for the day, and Aegon was already up and dressing.

“Where did you sleep?” he asked.

You untied your robe as you approached the outfit laid out for you by your handmaidens. Handmaidens stopped assisting you and Aegon without being called into the room, as per your marital request.

“Elsewhere,” you stated.

Aegon sighed. “That is not an answer.”

“Why should it matter to you? If you get lonely, you can simply bed your whores,” you spat, throwing his comment from last night back at him.

Aegon didn’t handle you being mad at him very well. He needed everyone to like him at all times, but he didn’t cherish anyone’s opinion of him as much as he did yours. Knowing you were upset with him killed him.

“Do not be upset with me,” he pleaded, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Oh? I thought we were not to touch each other any longer?”

Aegon retracted his arms, moving directly next to you so he could catch your eyes. “I don’t want you to be upset,” he said.

“Then do not promise to deprive me of something you and I both want and need.”

“I cannot put you through this again. Do you not understand that? Whatever is going on within me, it passed something bad down to our child, and if we remain intimate I risk you falling pregnant with another child we will inevitably lose. As your husband, it is my duty to ensure you do not have to go through such a thing again.”

“It is out of your control, Aegon,” you said, your voice low as you held his face in your palms, “and it is not your fault.”

He held onto your wrists, but didn’t move your hands. “This decision is not meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” Aegon was set in his decision, which meant that there was no point in arguing with it right now. You did not have the energy.

────── ☾ ──────

The next several weeks were filled with longing, your heart and body yearning to be close to your husband, now that it had been three whole months since your son passed.

You didn’t press the subject with Aegon, allowing him room to breathe. It was difficult, and you found yourself needing him more and more the longer you went without him.

You knew that despite his decisions, you always had power over Aegon. He was completely enamored with you, and oftentimes changed his mind to match yours. When he made decisions you didn’t agree with, it took a hell of a lot of fighting to get him to falter, but it was not always impossible. This particular instance couldn’t be impossible- you couldn’t survive without him.

“We we supposed to depart last hour!” Aegon called out to you, waiting by the door with his guards for you, the hour getting later and later. House Dondarrion was hosting the Targaryen family for supper at Blackhaven as a gesture of appreciation for the King’s assistance in the Stormlands.

Your handmaidens tightened and tied the final strings of your corset. It was new, and made specifically for you, only this time, you made special requests. It was the standard green and gold, and still kept you covered, but less so than usual. The garment left your chest nearly exposed, just as you had planned.

“They must have forgotten your measurements, Your Grace, there is not nearly enough fabric,” one of your handmaidens spoke, fidgeting with the seam on your cleavage.

“It will do just fine, thank you very much,” you said, “we must be going.”

You were escorted to meet up with your husband, who couldn’t look away from you the moment you came into view.

“What the fuck is this?” he whispered the moment you were next to him.

“What ever do you mean?”

“Everyone here can see too much of you in that,” he continued.

You shrugged your shoulders, playing nonchalantly dumb. “They must have forgotten my measurements.”

You gazed up at him, and he could tell you were playing him. He knew you well enough to tell.

“What are you trying to do?”

You brushed your hair from your neck to behind your shoulder, making even more skin come into view. “Waiting to leave. We are already behind, are we not?”

You started to walk away, but Aegon grabbed your arm and pulled you back. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to let you leave in such a thing.”

“It is not your choice.”

Aegon knew that despite the roles placed on both of you from a very young age, he couldn’t control you if he tried.

Throughout supper, Aegon was on alert to the gazes of other gentlemen upon his wife. Many approached you two to offer their condolences for the loss of your son, making you tense up and your breathing quicken from stress, which only made your chest more obvious.

You could tell Aegon was bothered, but that’s what you wanted, so you made no effort to be modest.

“Rather lewd tonight,” Aemond said, standing behind your chair, greeting you for the first time all night, “don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,“ you responded, taking a sip from your cup.

Aemond leaned down next to your ear and whispered, “What’s he done then, hm?”

You giggled at the question, Aemond smiling as he stood tall and moved to greet the people next to you, ending your interaction. Aegon couldn’t hear what Aemond said, but Aemond being so close to you and whispering in your ear angered him.

“What did he say?” Aegon asked, unable to help the curiosity.

“Nothing of importance,” you said, remaining stoic.

Aegon’s nostrils flared as another member of House Dondarrion approached the table.

Aegon remained observant the entire night, a possessiveness consuming him as he intentionally stared at anyone who gawked at you, his gaze intimidating them into looking away.

When you returned to King’s Landing, you retreated to your shared chambers.

“It does not befit a queen to dress in such a vulgar way. I cannot fathom why you would do such a thing tonight,” Aegon said.

You poured two cups of wine as you replied, “you cannot fathom? Dear husband, I think you can. Take a guess as to why I may behave as such.”

You handed Aegon one of the cups, taking a sip from your own and intentionally tilting it too far upward, the red liquid spilling down your neck and onto your chest.

“Fuck, what a shame,” you spoke, placing the cup down and moving your hair behind your back.

Aegon watched you swipe a thumb over your bottom lip and suck the wine off of it.

“Stop it,” he warned.

“Stop what? You cannot expect me to just stand here covered in wine,” you quipped, “do you happen to have a cloth?”

Aegon retrieved an used cloth from the table next to you, holding it out to you, as if to say ‘here’s the cloth you absolutely knew was there and only made me grab to mess with me.’

“I can’t see my own neck,” you said, “help me?”

Aegon sighed in frustration, moving the cloth to clean your chin, then your neck, moving it lower and lower. He watched the muscles in your neck flex as you swallowed, and he didn’t even think about holding his actions back before his lips were on your neck, cleaning off the wine with his tongue.

Your mouth opened and a small sigh left your lips, the feeling of his mouth on you after so fucking long making you needier than usual.

Aegon moved down to your breasts, licking and kissing the top flesh of one of your breasts before jolting back and wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “No.”

“Aegon-“

“Please, I don’t think I’m strong enough for this.”

Aegon dropped the cloth back onto the table and marched out of the room, leaving you worked up and your breasts coated in wine. You let out a disappointed huff as you called your handmaidens in to run you a bath, hoping it would help you relax.

The next morning, Aegon had council business to attend to all day, but he had made an unfortunate mistake when you first wed: he told you that you were always welcome in council meetings, and that he would cut out the tongue of anyone who tried to speak against your presence there.

You swung open the doors to the council room, all heads turning toward you as you walked over to your husband.

“What is it?” Aegon asked, sitting taller and taller the closer you got to him.

“You said I was always welcome in these meetings, Your Grace.”

You seldom ever called Aegon by his title, but you knew that doing so drove him crazy. You noticed him shift slightly in his chair.

“The current matter of discussion is rather important,” he said.

“I would hope so, you’ve been in here all day,” you said, gripping the back of Aegon’s chair and pulling it with all your might, a seated Aegon inching a tiny bit away from the table. You were giving it your all, but could only move the chair a small amount back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, as the rest of the council just watched the scene play out. They knew better than to question you in these meetings.

You then sat yourself directly on Aegon, adjusting yourself so that you were comfortable in his lap, but he could still see the table. You were acting immature, but that was the point.

“This is entirely inappropriate,” he whispered into your ear, evidently tense. He was genuinely annoyed at you for sitting on his lap in the middle of a council meeting, but you didn’t care.

“I thought that was something you liked about me?” you whispered back into his ear.

You made brief eye contact. Aegon didn’t want to embarrass you in front of the Lords at the table, so he maintained a whisper. “Get up.”

You smiled, making the council think you were not in an argument, but rather exchanging a few private sentences before returning to duty. You leaned your head back so you were in his ear again. “No.”

“Your Grace,” Lord Commander of the King’s Guard and Hand of the King, Criston Cole, interrupted, “forgive me, but this is rather urgent.”

“Right then,” Aegon said, turning his attention back to the meeting as you remained on his lap.

The men all began to speak of war strategy and politically advantageous pairings, Aegon’s arm instinctively finding its way around your waist to keep you in place.

Every few minutes, you shifted your positioning, intentionally grinding down on his cock. He gripped your waist to try to stop you every time, but it never worked.

When the meeting was finished, you hopped up and left the room before Aegon could catch you.

Later in the day, he caught you walking alone to the library, and he pulled you into an adjacent hallway.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he warned, “that little stunt you pulled during my council meeting? Never again.”

“I do not know to what you refer,” you said, slowly pulling up one side of your dress, revealing more and more of your thigh until your entire leg was exposed, giving you room to dip your fingers underneath your dress.

“What are you-“

“It seems as though I’ve forgotten to put on anything under this dress,” you said, looking up at Aegon through hooded eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, watching your hand disappear fully underneath your dress.

“Would not have to, if only I found myself a husband to do it for me.”

“Don’t,” Aegon demanded, grabbing your wrist and stilling your hand.

“Please,” you pleaded, desperation in your eyes as Aegon looked at you, nearly breaking.

Instead, he dropped your wrist, walking away from you again and leaving you alone.

────── ☾ ──────

When Aegon entered your chambers that night, you were already bathing. You were resting your head against the cool metal of the bathtub, your knees visible over the water, your body partially covered by the weak bubbles on the water’s surface. You opened your eyes when you heard the door open, and Aegon approached you, pulling one of your handmaiden’s stools next to the tub and taking a seat.

“What is it, Aegon?” you asked, re-relaxing and closing your eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and you didn’t see it, but his eyes ran up and down the length of your body as he spoke.

“Bathing?” you answered, almost more of a question than an answer. What you were doing was blatantly obvious, so the question confused you slightly.

“If this is another one of your dirty tricks, it won’t work.”

You let out a deep breath. “It’s not, I really just wanted to relax.”

You opened your eyes, and Aegon cocked an eyebrow at you. “I’m serious, Aegon. I’ve tried enough, and it has not worked. I give up. That’s what you wanted, right?”

You meant it. You were tired of trying to work him up, instigate something, or be lustful, if it was never going to work. You were tired of throwing yourself at someone who clearly did not want you anymore.

Aegon didn’t respond, he just continued to watch you as you closed your eyes again, relaxing into the water. He could see most of your body beneath the surface of the clear liquid, the bubbles almost entirely dissipated.

You heard a small whisper of your name, but you kept your eyes closed, allowing yourself to continue winding down for the night.

Aegon reached out to run his hand over your knee, and the feeling made you jolt slightly, your eyes opening at the sudden contact. You gave Aegon a confused, somewhat concerned look.

“You would truly risk experiencing the tragedy of losing our son again?” he asked, his voice the smallest you’d ever heard it, “just to have me?”

You placed your hand on top of his. “What happened was out of our control. If the gods did not intend for him to be your heir, so be it. It cannot be a fault of our own. We did not bring it upon him, Aegon. We have no knowledge of what could happen given another heir, and this tragedy is not reason enough for me to give up on having children. I think it unfair of you to make such a drastic decision on my behalf. If you do not wish to be intimate with me because you yourself do not desire it, then so be it, but you do not get to make these decisions for me. I did not choose to be without your touch, Aegon, and it is unfair for you to choose it for me.”

It was the most you’d said at one time since your son died.

“I miss you,” you added.

A tear fell down Aegon’s cheek. “I never want to see you in pain again.”

“There is no guarantee you would. There is not even a guarantee I will fall pregnant again.”

Aegon knew you were right. He was making decisions for you, and he knew he had no right to, he was just so scared. He hated seeing what losing your first son did to you, and he thought he was doing right by you by not risking a pregnancy and then loss of another. He did not realize the damage he was doing.

He was lost in his thoughts, and you took his silence to mean that he was sticking to his word. “Please just let me rest, Aegon, I do not wish to rehash the same argument again.”

You fell back into your relaxed position, removing your hand from Aegon’s and resting both of your hands on either side of the metal tub.

Aegon only spoke a small whisper of your name again before moving his hand down your leg, sinking beneath the water. You maintained your position. He made it clear to you he did not want intimacy anymore, so why would he actually be doing something intimate?

You were caught by surprise when his hand reached between your legs and he ran a finger between your folds. You inhaled a sharp breath, your eyes remaining shut as the feeling was too good. Even if this stopped right now, you needed to make the most of the feeling while you had it.

Only, it didn’t stop. Aegon continued to feel you, circling his finger around your clit, causing your head to fall back even further as a soft whine left your lips. Aegon hadn’t heard the sweet sound of your whines and moans in ages, and one tiny noise from you made him completely forget why he ever vowed to keep himself away from you.

The water was sloshing slightly as Aegon moved his hand, inserting a finger into your hole as his thumb took residence on your clit, keeping the stimulation there as he began to push a finger in and out of you.

He watched you writhe in the water, your hips beginning to grind up into his hand. “A-Aegon,” you tried to catch his attention, but he was so consumed in you that he took it for a moan.

He leaned over you, his face mere inches from yours. “Say my name again.”

“A-Aegon, I was t-“

Aegon cut you off by kissing you, catching you off guard and making you squeal with surprise into the kiss. He began to move his hand faster and faster, the water nearly spilling out of the tub from the movement of his arm.

You moved to grab his wrist, and he pulled away from your mouth briefly to inspect your face and make sure you were alright.

“As much as I want you,” you breathed out, “I don’t want to do anything unless you do as well.”

Aegon didn’t verbally respond, as he often didn’t, but instead kissed you, hard. You held the back of his head, deepening the kiss as he added another finger into you, a moan escaping your throat into the kiss, only egging Aegon on more.

“Fuck,” you whimpered when Aegon pulled away.

He leaned down to kiss your neck, not caring at all about the water hitting the side of his face and drenching his hair.

You moaned and whined as his fingers fucked you at a violent pace, curling when they hit the sweet spot within you that had your breathing nearly stopping for moments at a time.

“Aegon, I’m-“

Aegon lifted his head so that he was looking directly at you. Your eyes squeezed shut as your climax hit you hard, Aegon removing his hand from you to grip either side of your face and kiss you as your orgasm washed over you, your juices mixing with the bath water.

Aegon softened the kiss as he felt your breathing calm down, only pulling away when your muscles released their tension beneath him.

“Thank you,” you sighed.

“Get out of this thing,” Aegon said, standing up and holding out both of his hands to you.

You placed your hands in his, allowing him to help pull you to a standing position. You shivered as the cool air hit your bare, wet skin. You stepped out of the bathtub, anchoring your balance on Aegon. When you stepped onto the ground, Aegon pulled your waist against him so quickly that you nearly fell over.

“If you’re all in, I’m all in,” he spoke.

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m all in. Always have been.”

Aegon leaned down to kiss you again, backing your bodies up slightly so that you were standing directly next to the stool.

Aegon then became almost carnal, having been without you for so long that he was too impatient now to wait any longer.

Aegon pulled you away from him and spun your body around, pushing you down until you were bent over the stool he was sitting on mere moments ago.

He undid his breeches and pushed his clothing down, leaving his lower half exposed.

He held a hand out in front of your face. “Spit.”

You did as you were told, giving him the lubricant that he spread on the head of his cock as he lined himself up with your entrance. He began to push into you slowly for a moment, before slamming his entire length into you.

You cried out at the feeling. One of his hands gripped your waist while the other fisted into your hair, pulling your neck back as he fucked you from behind. He was snapping his hips from the first thrust on, the pressure causing your body, and subsequently the stool, to shift forward with each hit.

“F-fuck,“ you moaned, “I missed y-you, Y-our Grace.”

The title only made him more feral, his grip on your hips destined to bruise you as he slammed into you viciously. He growled and groaned behind you, subconsciously trying to make up for months of deprivation.

You came again, the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock like a vice pushing him over the edge, despite the sex not lasting long at all. His body was in desperate need of you.

He bottomed out inside of you as he came, spilling his seed within you as he calmed down for a moment before pulling out of you.

He released his grip on your hair, allowing you to push yourself up. You nearly lost your balance, but Aegon caught your waist with his arm.

“I missed you too,” Aegon spoke, “what a fucking idiot I am.”

“Yeah, but that’s not new,” you teased, giving him a sweet kiss to show your forgiveness.

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dixons-sunshine · 9 months ago

Text

The sound of muffled cries filled Daryl's ears. He stopped in his tracks and cocked his head to the side, trying to find the source of the sound he was hearing. He soon discovered that it was coming from Dale's RV, and against his better judgement, he walked up the steps and opened the door, hoping to figure out who was crying. However, he stopped in his tracks when he figured out who those cries belonged to.

They belonged to you.

The sound of feet shuffling caught your attention. You quickly wiped at the tears that fell from your eyes, hoping that you could shield your true emotions from the person's gaze, but you knew it would be to no avail. You simply sniffled and looked up, prepared to tell whoever that had entered to please leave you alone. However, your words got caught in your throat when you saw it was Daryl.

Daryl's cerulean eyes locked with your own eyes. He was awkwardly fiddling with his thumbs. He wasn't entirely sure what he had expected to do once he had found out who was crying in the RV. However, although his brother's voice rang through his mind, reminding him that “chicks crying was an automatic no” and that he should run, a strange feeling overcame him.

He wanted to kill whoever was causing you so much pain. Even though he logically knew that you could've been crying because of something else, something told him that it was your boyfriend, that Shane prick that made you cry like this.

“Ya alrigh'?” He mentally kicked himself for starting with that. You obviously weren't okay. He felt like a perfect moron.

You chuckled bitterly and shook your head. “Yep, I'm just peachy,” you told him with a fake smile. “But I'll be fine. Don't need you to worry about me. Go and do... whatever it is you do.”

Daryl knew that was your way of telling him to get lost. He didn't blame you; your last interaction with him hadn't exactly been all sunshines and rainbows. The two of you had formed a friendship that was blossoming rather beautifully, but then he had snapped at you, and he didn't blame you for not wanting him to pry into your life after that. However, he couldn't stop himself from saying what he said next.

“Want me to kill 'im?”

You looked up at him with confusion clear on your features. However, you quickly realized what he meant, and you decided to play along with the joke—what you didn't know was if you really wanted him to, he'd go through with it. “Please, or else I will. I can't have a murder charge on my record. How will I find a job?”

Daryl chuckled at your joke and shrugged. “I dun' mind takin' the fall, as long as ya visit me in prison.” He took a few steps further into the RV, getting closer to you with each step. “But seriously, what'd he do this time?”

“Lori's pregnant.”

Daryl didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what you meant by that. He was painfully aware of the fact that Deputy Dick—as Merle had so affectionately nicknamed him—hadn't been able to keep it in his pants, and so were you, Shane's actual girlfriend. Daryl couldn't explain it, but the urge to stab Shane for doing that to you was strong.

“And,” you began, snapping him from his train of thought. “I finally broke up with him. I'm mostly relieved, but I'm also... I don't know. I mean, I dedicated four years of my life to this man. I didn't expect it to end like this. Hell, I didn't expect it would end at all. We had our fights, but I never once thought he'd do this to me. And now he got another woman pregnant, and I don't even know if Rick knows. If he doesn't, how do I possibly break this news to him?”

Daryl didn't know how to respond to that. He hadn't expected to have all of that dumped onto him. Feelings and comforting had never been his strong suits, so he didn't know how to make you feel better.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head. “I'm sorry for dumping all of that on you. Just forget I said anything.”

No, he wouldn't have any of that. He may not be able to comfort you, but maybe he could distract you. And after seeing the flowers in the vase on the counter, he knew exactly how.

“Ya know that Merle was really into flowers when we were younger?”

You scoffed in disbelief, but when you saw he was being serious, your eyes widened in disbelief and a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. “Seriously?”

Daryl nodded. “I didn't know 'bout this until he was high one night. We were out on a huntin' trip and he had his nose all covered in some drug. He had jus' had a bad encounter with a boar he didn't kill properly. I was cookin' up some squirrel stew when Merle pointed out to a bunch'a flowers in the distance. “Do ya know what daisies represent?” he had asked me, real serious, too. Of course, I didn't know, so he told me, “They represent innocence, purity, but above all else? They represent new beginnings. We're gon' grab the bull by the horns and take the world by storm, lil' brother. They ain't ready for us Dixons, that's for sure.” Yeah, that was bullshit. Ain't much of our lives that changed.” Daryl cut himself off before he could ramble any more.

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering at the sight of his shyness. Was it just you, or was Daryl kind of stunning? “Daisies really represent that?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. I looked it up. It actually does. M'surprised Merle knew that, though, but I didn't bring it up. Merle would just deny it and give me one hell of a beatin' if I did.” Daryl took a flower from the vase—a daisy—and extended it towards you. “What m'trynna say with that whole story s'that the situation with Shane and Lori definitely sucks, but ya can't let it get ya down. Be like a daisy. S'yer opportunity to start fresh. S'yer new beginnin'. Dun' let this be yer setback.”

A few beats of silence passed. Daryl was beginning to think that he had overstepped his boundaries, and he was about to pull back, mumble a “sorry” and hightail it out of there. However, you finally took the flower from him and sent him a small smile.

“That's actually kind of wise. Thank you.”

Daryl shrugged and took a few steps back. “Ain't nothin'.”

“Whatever you say,” you told him with a small smirk. It soon turned into a more genuine smile, however, when you glanced down at the daisy in your hand. “I needed that. Just... thank you.”

A moment of silence passed before Daryl spoke up with his usual nonchalant demeanour. “Yeah, yeah. No need to get all mushy 'bout it. Jus' can't have ya mopin' 'round camp and bringin' the mood down.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “There's the Daryl I know.”

And for some reason, as you looked up at him, you realized that you wouldn't want Daryl any other way.

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