#and i can walk around it without getting stuck in mud

[crimsoncandy04]

I had another vision yesterday from my other self. Another wholesome encounter but it still felt cute so I had to share.

It basically went like this.

Wanderer leads you to some secluded place in the outskirts of Fontaine. Insisting that

"You wanted to go out more. I'm just doing as asked. If you had something in mind, you should have been more specific. Now stop asking questions. You're lucky I'm even doing this for you in the first place."

As you two come to a pause in the middle of some old ruins overlooking the sea, suddenly Wanderer turns and faces you for a second. He then pulls out something from his pocket and holds it out for you. Quickly looking away from you as you marvel at it.

"Here. Just something I had lying around. You can have it."

You accept his gift. It's a hand woven bracelet made of black rope. It has a bunch of intricate little patterns in it that you just know took a long time to weave into place so you know what he says next is a lie.

"This means nothing. So don't tell anyone I made it for you or anything. It's simply a means of repayment. I got what I wanted. And now you have something to show for it."

You slip the bracelet on and smile warmly at Wanderer who scoffs in return. Lowering his gaze and making his hat obscure his face from your observation.

"Oh my god... Wanderer I love this! It's so pretty! Thank you!"

"Tch. Yeah right. Just don't go getting any ideas. I'm no lover boy. You should know that by now."

"I don't expect you to be anything you don't feel comfortable with. Besides I like you how you are now. You may not believe me. But it's true. I care about you a lot."

"You shouldn't say things like that for no reason you know? Not unless you plan to back your words up. Otherwise don't even bother. I see no point in such meaningless professions."

"Then I will prove it to you. I'm still here aren't I? Well for your information I don't plan on leaving either. And you can't make me. So don't bother trying."

You smirk at the man before you and for a second you both share a rare but brief second of eye contact. His gaze spoke a thousand things his lips refused to utter aloud and yours only a relentless understanding and affection. He knew you were being honest and for some reason this both comforted and irritated him.

But he'd never in a million years even consider pushing you away now.

No.

You had been closer to him than any other human. In ways that he'd never speak of in front of outside ears. And to him that was what made you and your bond with him something worth holding onto. Even if it was foreign to him and he often relied on you to give him subtle guidance and patience while learning to navigate the unfamiliar seas of emotion.

"Stubborn woman. Well, if you insist on being a thorn in my side for the foreseeable future, then I suppose I should expect to see you more often."

He starts walking again after that and you happily scurry after him. He slows a little for you but rolls his eyes anyway.

"Keep up. I'm not stopping for you again. If you fall this time, I'm leaving you on the side of the road."

"I'll grab your leg and drag you down with me. Then we'll both be stuck in the mud." You giggle playfully as he lets you intertwine your hand in his without complaint. Silently letting you know that he'd carry you again even if you weren't tired.

He gives you a smirk then as you both head back to your house.

"I'd like to see you try."

"You're on!"

You chuckle a little then as the stars twinkle above you. You loved your little walks together and were sad to see him go once he dropped you off at your house. But you trusted Wanderer enough to know that he'd always be back for you.

And he'd never forsake you.

[shoechoe]

found the nearest Giant Tree in the betweenlands and decided to set up base there... starting to realize this is kind of a hostile area to live in lol

[rafesangelita]

…DAD!JOHNB X PUPPY!READER AU

⋆𐙚₊˚🦴⊹♡

DAD!JOHNB X PUPPY!READER who tend to draw questionable looks everywhere they go— mainly because of puppy. if she’s not running circles around john b, gently gnawing on his finger, or getting into something she’s not supposed to, she’s bickering with jj until she starts crying because of something he said. dad!johnb picked up the nickname due to him being naturally authoritative and protective over puppy!reader. she called him ‘dad’ after he lectured her about eating too much sugar and the name just stuck. despite puppy always having pet tendencies, she didn’t really fall into the headspace until after her and john b got together and they started practicing it regularly. it started when he hand fed her snacks out of his palm as a joke, and slowly but surely it progressed into head patting, dry humping (on john b’s leg..), use of a collar, and eventually some barking and panting here and there..

DAD!JOHNB X PUPPY!READER who spend their days lounging around the chateau when john b doesn’t have to work, both of them relaxing on the couch while puppy sucks on his fingers. she’s drooling, her spit dribbling down her chin until john b pulls his hand away, instead taking her in his lap where he gives her tummy rubs until she dozes off in his arms. she’s gazing up at dad!johnb with those puppy dog eyes as she whimpers, the sound drawing his attention. he already knows what she’s crying for, his eyes flickering over to her shoes that were thrown haphazardly by the front door. “go ahead and go outside, i’ll be out there right now.” without hesitation, puppy is rushing out the door, john b shaking his head as she trips over her shoelaces. he walks out and sits on the porch steps with a cold water bottle for her, wondering how in the hell she managed to make a huge stack of mud pies already.

DAD!JOHNB X PUPPY!READER who usually have to have a pep talk before the boys come around. “whatever jj tries to get you to do, don’t listen to him,” he warns, “—and remember, you can’t go running to pope with random bugs and asking him what they are, got it?” she nods dismissively and dad!johnb just knows everything he said went in one ear and right out the other. surely enough, puppy ends up doing everything john b told her not to do and she finds herself being locked in the room after rough playing with jj and accidentally crashing into the tv. she just ends up falling asleep on her bed until john b is waking her up with an icecream date as an apology. “birthday cake or cotton candy?” john b is asking her as she presses her face against the glass case displaying all of the icecream flavors in the shop. puppy answers ‘both’ before joining pope and jj in a booth, her and jj separated on either sides. “i love you, pup, but those flavors are horrid.” pope grimaced.

DAD!JOHNB X PUPPY!READER who are so icky when the chateau is empty and it’s just them two. john b has her crawling on all fours completely naked, letting her rut herself against him and her pillow, giving her butt rubs as she oral fixates on his cock, making her hold her pee while he edges her time and time again until she’s a whining mess. puppy is crying out, her fingers pulling at the tuft curls of john b’s hair as he fucks into her from below, her knees sitting on either sides of john b’s thighs. she’s licking him, running her tongue along the column of his throat, her lips leaving a trail of sloppy, wet kisses while he bounces her on top of him. “you’re takin’ me so fuckin’ good, pup..” john b praises, her whimpers being a testament to just how stuffed full she was with john b’s length, his cock rearranging her insides with every thrust, “think you deserve a treat after this, huh?” she’s nodding, not able to speak a single word as all thoughts die in her head.

DAD!JOHNB X PUPPY!READER who are very territorial over each other. john b is super aware of the way some guys look at her and can tell when someone is trying to take advantage of her naivety. he keeps her close no matter what, but on the rare occasions where she may wander off or get herself into trouble, john b is quick to swoop in and get her before anyone else could. as for puppy, she’s shameless when it comes to establishing herself as john b’s. she’s draping herself across john b’s lap while they’re at a boneyard party, rubbing her cheek against him as if to coax him into scratching her head, not so subtly grinding on his thigh, and of course it works every time in scaring off anyone trying to get at him. pope and jj are watching everything unfold, both of them not surprised in the slightest as they watch puppy and john b sneak off to the twinkie. “well! there goes our ride back home..” pope sighed, jj still watching the twinkie until he spots puppy’s feet in the air.

୨୧ puppy’s punishments ୨୧ icky chateau activities ୨୧ puppy has a meltdown in her cage.. ୨୧ when dad!johnb monitors your screentime

[keithyp00]

'*•.¸♡ Stupid Cupid, Stop Picking On Me ♡¸.•*'

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: slow-burn, romance, humor, fluff, slight angst, mutual pining, romantic tension, morning sweetness, vulnerability

Song Inspiration: Stupid Cupid by Connie Francis

Word Count:2.1K

Author Note: Hi again! This fic has been stuck in my head all day so here I am writing it and pushing some of my other fic ideas back a couple of days. My last one didn't do as well as I was hoping overnight so if you like this one please go check out Timeless. Thank you guys! (And Happy Mother's Day for those who celebrate!)

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

You weren't exactly sure when Bucky Barnes became your problem.

Maybe it was when Steve asked you- sweet, pleading Steve- to check in on him after the whole time-travel thing. Maybe it was when you saw Bucky sulking at a farmer's market like a feral cat trying to adapt to a domestic life, poking at ripe peaches like they had personally offended him. Or maybe it was when you found yourself holding two coffee cups and wondering why one of them always seemed to be for him.

"Stupid Cupid," you muttered, tripping over a sidewalk crack. "Quit messing with my head."

Because how else could you explain? The flutter in your chest every time Bucky narrowed his eyes at you. The way your stomach flipped when he threw that infuriating little smirk your way- like he knew something that you shouldn't.

You should hate him.

He was moody. He didn't text back. He once told you that your playlist sounded like 'a sock hop and a migraine had a baby.' And yet, when he stood too close in the kitchen of your shared safehouse, or brushed his hand against yours when he passed the remote, you felt like a walking daydream.

______________________________________________________________

It was Tony's lake house, technically. But since he wasn't around anymore- and Sam insisted Bucky get used to 'civilian life'- you'd all rotated through it like some kind of Airbnb. For the last month, it had just been you and him. And your rapidly imploding patience.

"Can you not stare- no, glower- at the mailman like he owes you something?" You asked one sunny morning, squinting through the screen door as Bucky stood on the porch, his arms crossed like some sort of bouncer.

He simply didn't answer, which infuriated you even more.

You groaned, sipping your coffee and reminding yourself to not shove him into the lake. Because despite the grump, despite the sarcasm, despite the fact that he wore gloves in the middle of July sometimes- he was good. He was thoughtful, sometimes in ways that snuck up on you.

Like how he left Post-Its on your laptop that said, 'Eat something.' Or how he'd fixed the wobbly leg on your favorite chair without saying a word. Or how he stood outside your room every night, headphones in, until you fell asleep just to 'make sure it was safe.'

And yeah- maybe you noticed the way his hair curled after a shower. Or how his voice went all gravel and hush when he said your name. Or how he smelled like cedarwood and mystery.

But that didn't mean you liked him. Right?

______________________________________________________________

It was the pie that broke you.

Not your spine in a sparring match. Not the blackout you both endured during a rogue power surge. Not even the time he carried you through mud because you twisted your ankle.

No. It was the goddamn cherry pie.

You were baking. Sort of. Trying to, anyway. The crust was partially uneven, your hands were sticky, and you were muttering something about 'defeating the patriarchy through pastry.'

He leaned in the doorway, arms folded. Watching. Always watching.

"You're talking to the dough," he stated.

You didn't look up. "She's rude. She needs discipline."

Bucky snorted- snorted- and you stared at him like he'd grown another metal arm.

"Did you just laugh?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't laugh."

"Tell that to the dough," you snapped, cheeks hot. "What do you want, Barnes?"

"I smelled sugar," he said, shameless. "Was hoping you'd share."

You rolled your eyes. "I thought you didn't like sweets?"

His voice went low. Dangerous. "I like yours."

Your hands froze in the leftover flour.

And suddenly, you weren't thinking about the pie. You were thinking about the way he looked at you sometimes- like he couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss you or run. Like you were both a threat and a safehouse.

"Stupid Cupid," you muttered again, flustered. "I swear to God-"

"What?"

"Nothing."

The pie actually came out fairly decent, the edges of the crust a little burnt, but fairly tolerable. And Bucky, he ate the whole thing, or most of it anyway.

______________________________________________________________

It got worse after that.

Every glance lingered too long. Every argument had an edge of flirtation behind it. You kept pretending not to notice the way he always found a reason to sit beside you. How his knees would bump beneath the table. How he started playing your music in the kitchen.

And when you finally snapped one night- pacing on the porch, wine in hand, muttering about how, 'he's ruining everything with those ridiculous blue eyes'- you hadn't realized he was standing in the doorway behind you.

He pushed his body off the doorframe and walked toward the railing of the porch, his expression incredibly too smug for your liking.

"I'm ridiculous now?"

You flinched, whipping around. "Jesus- do you sneak for fun?"

"Occupational hazard." His smirk widened. "What else did you say about my eyes?"

"Nothing," you said quickly. Too quickly. "Shut up."

He stepped closer. "Make me."

You blinked. Then laughed. Loud, bright, and disbelieving.

"What are you, twelve?"

"I was," he deadpanned. "Once."

You rolled your eyes. "You're impossible."

And then he said it. Quiet. Honest. Barely audible beneath the breeze. "You make it hard."

You blinked again. "What?"

He cleared his throat. Looked away. "To stay... detached."

The wine slipped from your fingers. Luckily, the bottle was already empty.

You stared at him. At the scars on his knuckles. The lashes that framed those godforsaken eyes. The lip he kept biting like he regretted saying anything.

And you realized- he wasn't teasing.

He meant it.

Stupid. Damned. Cupid.

You stepped forward. He didn't flinch.

"I don't want detached," you said softly

He looked at you. Really looked. Like you were sunlight and danger and the last good thing in the world.

His voice cracked. "I'm not easy to love."

"I don't want easy either."

You reached for him. Gloved hand, then metal. He let you, but you heard his breathing stutter. And when you leaned in- testing the waters, testing fate- he met you halfway.

It wasn't fireworks.

It was softer. Stranger. The kind of kiss that steals your balance and leaves you wondering where you end and they begin.

When you finally pulled back, you smiled.

"Still think I talk too much?"

He nodded. "Absolutely."

Then he kissed you again. Harder.

______________________________________________________________

Later, tangled on the porch swing with his arm around you and your head on his shoulder, you hummed a familiar tune. Under your breath. Just loud enough for him to hear.

"Stupid Cupid, stop pickin' on me..."

He groaned. "If you start singing that in the morning-"

"You'll what?" You teased. "Fall even more in love with me?"

He didn't answer. But the way he pulled you closer said enough.

______________________________________________________________

You woke up with his hoodie under your cheek and a breeze on your knees.

The sun filtered through the curtains inside like a lazy golden hand, dust swirling in the air like dandelions. You blinked, registering three things:

You were curled up on the porch swing.

Bucky Barnes was asleep beside you.

His metal arm was around your waist like it belonged there.

"Stupid Cupid," you murmured again, though it came out softer this time. Less bitter. Almost... giddy.

His chest rose and fell in a rhythm you were already memorizing. Peaceful. Unarmored. Mouth parted slightly, lashes casting shadows, hair falling into his face.

You wanted to touch him.

Not in the hungry, let's-make-out-on-the-porch kind of way. You simply wanted to run your fingers through his hair. Trace the scar near his eyebrow. Press your palm to the pace just under his collarbone where he always kept his tension.

You settled for tucking his hoodie around his side, trying not to shiver from the early morning air.

"You're staring," he said, voice husky with sleep.

You yelped. "I-no, I was just-"

"Keep lying. You're adorable when you panic."

Your face flushed and Bucky grinned as a response. "So. We kissed."

You tucked your knees under your chin. "We did."

He finally looked at you, blinking slowly. "How do you feel about that?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"On whether you're going to brood about it for three days and avoid me."

He let out a quiet huff of laughter. "I'd never avoid you."

"Really? Because last month you avoided Sam for hating on your music taste."

"That was justified."

You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm- flesh, not metal. The little grin that flickered on his lips made your stomach tumble.

"So what does this mean?" You asked quietly. "Us. The... kissing."

He went still. Then sat up, brushing his hair back with one hand.

"It means," he said slowly, "that I want more."

More?

More of you? More kissing? More sleepless nights lying next to each other on a porch swing, tangled up in feelings too big to name?

You swallowed. "Okay."

His eyes searched yours. "Okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah. But you have to stop the staring problem, especially at strangers, I agree with Sam on that one."

"No promises."

______________________________________________________________

You didn't talk about it for a few days. Not directly, anyway.

But everything shifted.

He cooked breakfast before you got up- black coffee, toast, eggs that were slightly overcooked but made with obvious care. You found him waiting on the couch every evening with a blanket folded beside him like an invitation. He started brushing your hand every time you passed him something. Not an accident. Not anymore.

You tried not to let your heart explode about it.

Didn't work.

Especially not when he started calling you 'Doll' without a trace of irony.

Or when he found an old record player in the attic, fixed it, and played your favorite 60s vinyl like it was nothing.

Or when he got jealous over a guy in town who complimented your outfit and sulked for the next hour.

______________________________________________________________

It came to a head one evening during a thunderstorm.

You were barefoot, twirling in the kitchen while "Stupid Cupid" played on the record player- loud and cheeky, your voice warbling off-key along with it.

"Stupid Cupid, you're a real mean guy-"

"Jesus Christ," Bucky muttered behind you, towel around his shoulders, still damp from fixing the gutters in the rain. "You still know all the words?"

You spun, grinning. "I was born in the wrong decade."

"Clearly."

He crossed the kitchen slowly. Red Henley sticking to his chest. Hair dripping onto his forehead. You didn't realize you stopped breathing until he was right in front of you, blue eyes bright, towel abandoned.

"You like this song because it reminds you of me, huh?"

You swallowed. "Maybe."

His hand brushed your waist. "You like me, doll?"

You nodded, heart pounding. "Maybe."

"Then shut up and dance with me."

You didn't think. You just fell into him.

He swayed with you under the soft crackle of vinyl, your feet slipping against his boots, your laughter dying against the fabric of his shirt.

"I'm getting you soaked," he said into your hair.

"Can confirm," he mumbled.

He choked on a laugh. "It wasn't a question- god, you're a menace."

"Your menace," you whispered.

He froze. Pulled back. Looked at you. And then he kissed you. Slow, deep, reverent.

It didn't feel like the one you shared on the porch. This one felt like a promise.

______________________________________________________________

Later, after changing into dry clothes and curling up beside him on the couch, you whispered the question that had been living under your tongue for days.

"Do I scare you?"

He blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"I mean... you never let people in. You barely let Sam in. And now you're-" you gestured between you. "Letting me in. Doesn't that terrify you?"

He exhaled. Then reached for your hand, metal fingers wrapping around yours.

"It does," he said. "But not because of you. Because I don't want to ruin it."

You stared at him. All of him. The scars, the war, the tenderness.

"You couldn't ruin this if you tried."

He looked away. "I've ruined things before."

You tilted his face toward you with your fingertips.

"Then don't run," you whispered. "When it gets hard. When I yell because you left dishes in the sink. When I forget to say goodnight. Just... stay."

His jaw flexed. "You'd want me to stay? Even when I'm a mess?"

You smiled. "Especially then."

______________________________________________________________

That night, you fell asleep with your head on his chest, listening to the storm fade into silence and his heartbeat slow to something steady. Something safe.

"Stupid Cupid," you whispered one last time into the dark.

And Bucky- half asleep, fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm- mumbled back, "Yeah... but I'm glad he chose to pick on you."

[ashwhowrites]

King!Steve Harrington x reader, he asks the reader out because of a bet. Happy ending!!!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Drunk bet

Steve had a reputation in Hawkins High, and he loved it. He loved the attention from the girls and the respect from the jocks. He was cocky and smug whenever eyes watched him as he walked. He was the King and there was a line of girls wanting to be the Queen.

He could get anyone he wanted, and he had many choices. He liked the way girls chased him and all he had to do was send a smile their way.

Steve was drunk at a party, betting money on games of beer pong. If he was sober, he would remember that he was awful at that game. Hundreds of bills slapped down on the table as he missed another cup.

"Nice playing with you, Harrington" Billy smirked as he collected the money.

"Wait! Come on, rematch!" Steve slurred

"It's fun kicking your ass, but you have no more money to bet" Billy laughed

"My dad will kick my ass knowing I lost all of that. What do you want to bet on? I'll do anything to win that back," Steve said

Billy gave it a thought, he had King Steve in the palm of his hand. "Alright, Steve. I'll give you everything back if you ask out Y/N and date her for three months. Hundred for each month. We have a deal?"

"No way! If I go out with her, my reputation goes straight into the mud" Steve fought.

The thing was, Y/N was a very pretty girl. But she was nowhere near the popular crowd. And dating within the popular crowd was acceptable, dating outside of the circle was immediate destruction. He'd lose his King title.

He didn't know that Billy knew all of that. Billy wanted to be the king of Hawkins. He could take Steve down in every aspect. Steve felt stuck because he knew his father would be pissed about the money. Maybe Steve could complete the bet without anyone knowing he was seeing her.

Billy stood there with a smirk when Steve sighed and shook his hand.

~~~

Monday rolled around and Steve had to put his plan into motion. He didn't know too much about Y/N but he knew they shared a few classes together. All he had to do was get her alone, turn on his charm, and ask her out.

He waited in the hallway until it died out, slipping next to her locker when she wasn't looking.

"Hey,"

She jumped as she heard his voice, turning to see him standing there with a smile on his face. She was skeptical but stayed polite.

"Hey Steve, what's up?" She asked, closing her locker and then leaning against it.

"I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out tonight? You can come to my place and I can cook us something"

Y/N was swooning from Steve's smile and the smell of his cologne right under her nose. She couldn't believe that Steve was interested in her.

"I would love to," she smiled, maybe all those small waves and hellos meant something to him.

"Perfect. How about you give me your number and we can talk about details after school." He said

"Sure!"

Steve smiled at how excited she was, this was going to be easy. He let her softly grab his hand and write down her number. The pen tickled his skin as she wrote on his skin.

"Call you later," he said as he pushed off the locker, sending her a wink that made her heart race.

~

Y/N arrived at the address Steve said over the phone. She was nervous as she walked up to his house. She knocked on his door and anxiously waited.

"Welcome to my casa!" Steve said as he opened the door and allowed her to walk through. It was a beautiful home, very clean and everything had a shine.

"I hope you like pizza, I've got a great recipe," he said as he trailed off to the kitchen. Y/N followed but was still in awe of the house.

"Pizza sounds great," Y/N said, Steve pulled out a chair at the counter and motioned her to sit. She sat and took in his cute apron and the towel hanging over his shoulder.

"Do you like to cook?" She asked, her eyes following him as he checked on the oven

"I love it" he replied, "parents are barely home and I got tired of take out and frozen meals." He shrugged

Y/N couldn't help but frown. She wondered if he ever got lonely, but he was popular so maybe not.

"Can I help with anything?" She asked, standing up and walking over to him. Steve smiled at her, he could see the excitement sparkling in her eyes. He already has her wrapped around his finger.

~

A month flew by and Steve believed he had this bet in the bag. Since he was always home alone, he'd ask her to come over. She didn't question why they never went anywhere and that made it easy.

He didn't have much interest in her, but he did like her company. She was funny and was fun. There was never a dull moment with her and Steve didn't realize how much fun he needed in his life.

A few weeks into the first month he kissed her.

It was soft and slow. She didn't know where to put her hands but once she got more comfortable she touched him. He kissed her a few times, letting her grow more comfortable with him and adding anything she wanted to the kiss.

~

Two months in he asked her to be his girlfriend. She said yes without a second thought, just like he thought.

He started taking her out on dates, but only in private areas. Private waterfalls for picnics and driving into another town. She saw it as all adventures. She loved to explore and her heart raced by how much Steve seemed to want to explore with her.

~

Three months in Steve felt it.

He felt a little spark when he kissed her. When she held his hand as they jumped into the cold water below, he felt warm everywhere. The sound of her laughter as they plunged into the water made him smile.

He started loving the long drives. Singing with her and dancing at red lights. He started to feel happy when he saw the excitement in her eyes when she took in something new.

How he wished he had a camera to take a picture every time she smiled at him.

They had a few drinks one night, cuddled on his living room floor as the fire roared. Lately, the bet has been the last thing on his mind and it certainly was right now. The way her skin glowed from the fire. Her shoulder was exposed from her shirt, and without thinking he leaned down and kissed the skin.

He felt something burn inside him when she moaned. Then it became the only thing on his mind, making her moan and moan again.

They had sex on the floor in front of the fire, the beer bottles scattered on the floor. His forehead was against hers as he pushed himself in and out of her.

~

Steve knew he'd have to face Billy now that the three months were up. He didn't want to break up with her, he liked her and he liked her a lot. He knew he fucked up with how they started and he planned for her to never know.

Billy pulled up to his house, honking the horn as he got out.

Steve groaned as he rolled out of bed. Y/N was asleep, so he quickly left the room. He raced out to make Billy stop the honking. Once Billy saw him, he stopped.

He had a big smirk as he took in Steve's appearance.

"My oh my, sex hair and scratches? Someone had a good time," Billy chuckled.

"Look, I'm out of the bet. Keep the money and we're even." Steve said

"Oh, why? Fucked her and now you're in love?" Billy scoffed, "King Harrington settles for the pretty nerd."

"Billy, just stop. You get to keep the money, so let's keep this between us. She doesn't have to know" Steve hissed

"Alright, man. I'll keep this little bet between us, but what's your plan? Gonna have to start taking her out in public at one point, people will see and your reputation is doomed. And also," he said, stepping closer to Steve as he lowered his voice, "she's right behind you."

Steve gulped as he was fast to turn around. She stood there in his shirt from the night before. Her arms crossed as tears ran down her face.

Billy laughed as he got back in his car, but before he sat down he whistled.

"If you need a rebound, I'm here, gorgeous," he winked at her.

They watched as he raced out of Steve's driveway, leaving them alone.

"Y/N," he started but she already was running inside.

"I CAN EXPLAIN!" he shouted as he raced into his house, he was quick to head up to his room. She was yanking off his shirt and throwing on her clothes.

"I don't care anymore. You're just as much of an asshole as I thought." She hissed, angrily putting on her pants. "I should have known better. 'Oh baby, I just want you all to myself and I know this romantic spot at the lake,' you just didn't want anyone to see us together!" She mocked his voice as she headed out of his bedroom.

"I know! I'm so sorry and I fucked up. But please believe me. You heard me tell him to keep it right? You heard me!"

"Yeah, I heard you! But I never heard you admit any feelings for me. Why? Too scared to admit that to Billy? Knowing your reputation is on the line?" She scoffed, sliding on her shoes.

"I do have feelings for you! Yes, it was a bet initially but I fell for you. I really like you and I didn't want us to break up. I want to be with you," he cried, tears falling down his face as he grabbed the front door knob.

"Yeah, well I don't want to be with you." She snapped as she slammed the door behind her.

~~~

Steve gave her time to cool off but when Monday arrived he had his eyes set on her. He followed her around and begged for her to listen to him. People were staring and whispering about them in the halls but Steve didn't care.

Finally, she stopped, turning around as Steve's body smashed into hers.

"Quit following me around, this time I don't want to be seen with you," she declared, ignoring the kicked-puppy look in his eyes. "Take a look around, any girl would jump at the chance to be with you. And you wouldn't have to be ashamed of them, leave me alone and find someone else."

She went to turn around but Steve grabbed her shoulder.

He looked into her eyes and she tried to keep her hard face on.

"I don't want them. I don't want to look elsewhere. I'm looking at the girl I want. I'm sorry for everything and I'm sorry I thought you were someone to be ashamed of. You're not. You are the best person I have ever met and I'm begging for another chance."

She watched as he dropped to his knees and held her hand. She smiled awkwardly as the school stared and gasped.

"People are staring!" she hissed

"Good, because then you will see that I don't care who sees us. Y/N, will you please give me another chance? We don't have to label it right away, we can start with a date and talk through everything. All I ask is you say yes in the moment and we can think about it later."

She sighed, looking down at their hands. In his eyes, he looked sincere and sorry.

"Fine," she sighed, smiling to herself when Steve's face lit up, "But we will be thinking about it later."

"Deal!" he cheered as he stood up. She was caught off guard when he swooped her into a kiss. She ignored the crowd around them as she kissed him back.

[jacaerysgf]

For the night

summary: on the hunt for houses to declare for aegon the greens stumble upon house vance and its new lady of the house, gwayne seems particularly taken with her.

gwayne hightower x vance!reader

w.c: 3k

c.w: cole is an asshole, assault on reader (not gwayne), fluff, p in v, oral (fem), fingering (fem), not proofread

a.n: not my usual content but gwayne hightower you have charmed me

he was so sick of being out on the road. the mud, the dirt, the grass, the blood, everything he was sick of it all. and of course he was stuck traveling around with criston cole and the stick that seemed to be so far wedged up his ass it should be coming right out of his mouth.

it was another day of watching men bend the knees in his armor that made his skin feeling sticky with sweat and dirt and blood on his face, his hair a mess he is going to kill someone if he has to live another day like this. yet today something in particular catches his eye, the women who typically stood off to the side while the men bend the knee never normally interest him, but a particular women catch his attention instantly. staring off to the side without a care in the world as the early fall breeze hit your face.

a woman like her is far too beautiful to be standing out in this rutty old field next to these old crinkly men she deserved to be living in paintings or in a statue carved from the purest stone. He could not take his eyes off you, you must have been able to feel his eyes on you as you crane your head and lock eyes with him. your expression does not change but you do drop your head and cup your hands together in front of you when his gaze does not stray. a smile tugs at his lips he cannot fight for the first time in days.

once it is all said and done he gets stuck in a conversation with some random knight that he is less than happy to be talking to he finally manages to worm his way out of the conversation and looks around the field for you. his face twitches slighty when he sees you talking with criston cole and hastily rushes over.

Your conversation becomes clearer and clearer the closer he gets. “as i have told you before ser cole i am unmarried.” “i find that hard to believe you are the daughter of lord vance.” you merely shrug at him, “i do not know what you wish me to say, prior to your arrival i had been the youngest of six, i had four other sister ahead of me who married.my father saw no reason to marry me off. he had a son who married a nice lady and now they have all slit their throats in the castle halls, i never expected to be in charge or be married.” He had seen the incident first hand, when criston burst open the doors of the castle he did not expect to step in a pool of blood and fresh corpses laying on the ground of the majority of house vance excluding you and your father who was just beheaded for not bending the knee.

when you notice gwanye walk over your eyes trail to him for a moment which causes cole to look at gwayne before you turn away from him. “now is certainly not the time to be flirting with ladies cole” cole sighs and he turns to gwayne with his arms crossed, “as everyone else in her line is dead and she has no other living relatives she is the new lady of the house. i thought women of your, respectable age, would atleast have a suitor or two” gwayne rolls his eyes, he cannot believe cole and his disrespectfulness, if his suspensions were correct he had no clue what his sister saw in him. does he not realize he is speaking to one of the more gorgeous women in the realm?

“and i thought you white cloaks were swore to purity. it seems we are both wrong.” he watches a switch flip in coles eyes and before he can say anything cole has you by the neck and you attempt to take some gasps of air. “cole! release her!” many eyes had turned in their direction as you beat your hand on his forearm but no one dared move. gwanye finds himself pulling out his sword but doesn’t point it at cole just yet but his hand is itching to strike him down.

“you have no clue what you speak of.” cristons spits at you with venom but continue attempting to takes gasps of air. “criston that is enough!” your face contorts in confusion as you continue to try and pull yourself from his grip. “i meant was some of your men were seen in a brothel a town over last night.” Criston keeps you in his hands for awhile longer before he lets you go and takes a step back. you grasp at your neck as you take many deep breaths, gwayne puts his sword back and grabs his water skin and hands it to you. He watches as you eagerly drink the sack dry before turning to criston, “do you have no decency? strangling an innocent woman?”

cole says nothing but gwayne can tell he’s embarassed about the display and all the eyes on him. criston steps towards you and you step back into gwaynes chest to which he happily keeps you against him as cole speaks hushedly. “you will tell me the names of these men.” you look around at the white cloaks and point to a group of four of them standing around and chatting pretending like you cant feel gwaynes fingers rubbing circles around your hips. “how would i know you are telling the truth?” “my brother was a frequent customer of that particular brothel, i had gone to go pick him up and i walked in to see them, sharing a particular women in the center of the room with their cocks about but still wearing their armor.”

as much as he hates to admit it cole finds himself believing you, “we will discuss this after i am done speaking with them. then we must head out.” gwayne would rather die than go back on the road now especially with you in his hands. “cole, can we not take one night to rest? look at the men and tell me they are not exhausted? think of the morale cole.” he does not care about the teams morale but criston doesn’t need to know that, yet when he looks around it is rather obvious the team is suffering. mens feet dragging about the ground and faces devoid of life. criston turns to gwayne who simply raises his eyebrows at him, criston turns to you, “your lands shall host our men for tonight. but just tonight we leave first daylight.” gwayne grins at cristons pointed addition and feels you nod your head. “we have a couple beds though not many-” “we have tents to sleep outside.” “i will be more than happy to take a bed if he will not my lady.”

criston walks off leaving the two of you standing together when you remove yourself from him and turn to face him. “i am not a whore ser hightower.” he flinches slightly in surprise and manages to shake himself out of shock with a laugh. “i never thought you were my lady.” “your eyes and hands certainly say different ser.” He had been a little forward had he? so he bow his head to you.

“apologies my lady, let me try this again. I am gwayne hightower, pleasure to meet you.” he grabs your hand and brings it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the back of your hand. you hum and pull your hand away from him much to his annoyance. “likewise i suppose though i wish it was under better circumstances.” he watches as your eyes drift to the large pile of bodies that had built up, hes sure your family lies within the pile, “i would like to give you my condolences.” you snort and shake your head. “im sure you would.” he wishes he could get a read on you but you keep your walls kept up tight.

he wants to rip them down and expose you to him fully. hes never been so taken with a woman and especially with such quickness, maybe it was a fleeting lust but he was so fascinated by you he cant help but want to keep talking with you, watch your every move. yet you do not give him the chance as you begin to step away from him, “one of my men will show you and your men to your room. Good day ser hightower.”

you turn your back to him and begin to walk away. he almost wants to follow after you, to chase you down and continue to talk to you but the way you turn your head back at him to give him one final look is enough to have him knowing itll be worth the chase a smirk is unable to leave his face as he steps away and turns is back to go find cole who happens to be screaming at the men you pointed at. He’ll look for you later he’s sure of it and he’s more than sure he’ll find you.

the sun had been long set and the night cold when he sees you again. its not hard to find your room, which had been moved to the main chambers only hours after your fathers death. he finally feels refreshed after a long bath and finally out of his armor or camp clothes, being given some soft nigh clothes by the maids. he should just want to lay in bed and sleep, maybe even travel with some of the other men to the brothel nearby but he doesn’t much to the surprise of his men. He instead finds himself walking through the empty halls of the castle until he stands in front of the doors of what appears to be your chambers

He knocks before he even can think about his actions and the door cracks open after a few moments of silence. Your head pops out and your eyes narrow at him, “do you need something?” “merely wish for some company, someone to chat with.” your brow raises and he can tell you do not believe a word he says. “just to chat?” a small laugh escapes him and he smiles, “well if you are offering more who i am to deny?” you roll your eyes and the door cranes open some more but you don’t let him in, standing in the doorway you lean against the wall. “my maidenhead remains in tact ser.” he throbs, you were a minx put on this plane for testing his strength. “don’t make the offer more tempting my lady, i am a merely a gentleman.”

he takes the opportunity to get a full look at you, changed out of your day clothes and dawned in a silk nightgown in a light green, the straps are thin leaving your shoulders and collarbones bare as well as your sleeves but what it lacks up top it is long enough to hit almost your feet. Your arms crossed under your chest where almost salivates at the sight. He can see your nipples poking through the almost sheer fabric of your dress. You are so much better than any sight at any brothel and more beautiful than any eligible lady in all the seven kingdoms.

“you done looking at me yet?” his eyes shoot back up to you while he grins, “never my lady.” he watches you face flash and you stand up straight. “as fun as this back and forth is ser hightower unless you are looking to marry me i must ask you to leave.” you bow your head and go to clothes your door but his foot in the way stops you. “ser,” “what if i was interested in marrying you?” you push the door open and stare at him blankly. “do not jest ser hightower.” “gwayne please and no i do not jest.” he has never been interested in marrying much, his sister had married the fucking king and had plenty children his father cared not for if he was married or not. Gwayne enjoyed the life he lived, traveling from brothel to brothel without a care in the world but you had been the first eligible lady hes ever met that even remotely interested him.

it would not be so bad to marry, this war has shown him that everything peaceful lasted forever and maybe it would be good to settle down somewhere, with someone. he watches you watch him thoughtfully, your eyes unreadable as you watch him for any signs of deceit and lies. When he makes no moves you take a couple steps back, the doorway to your room now wide open for him to step into. “If you step past the doorway you will have to marry me ser gwayne, are you really willing to give everything up for one lay?”

you stare at him with a challenge in your eyes. you think he’ll walk away and you’ll never see him again, he’ll be nothing more than a fleeting memory of a handsome man that wanted your attention for a day and you’ll settle for whatever carefully chosen lord the greens pick for you to keep you in line and you’ll live the rest of your life plainly.

The door shuts with a quiet thud and you turn around to take a sip out of your wine glass as silence fills the room you stand in.

a hand suddenly plays with one of the thin straps of your dress and pushes it down your shoulder, the right side of your dress falls down exposing the right side of your chest as his lips dance around your shoulder and neck. you lean your head back against his chest as his hands knead at your sides. He begins sucking at the part where your neck and shoulder meet while your left strap falls exposing your chest fully but his stands stop it from fully hitting the floor.

He suddenly spins your around as you take another sip from your wine, and he shoves his lips against yours, drinking the wine from your lips and some dribbles out of your mouth. when he removes his lips they trail down and lick up all the wine that had slipped out, his hands leave your waist and your dress hits the floor softly leaving you bare in front of him.

his head spins as he stares at you you sit on the table with your legs parted. “live up to your standards?” he shakes his head as he drops to his knees, “your beauty surpasses that of the maiden herself.” He rubs his hands on your thighs as you let out a shaky breath staring at his ginger hair. he presses light kisses on your inner thighs growing closer to where your dripping for him.

he licks softly at your folds first before his tongue pushes past them and greedily lapping at your core. his hands grab at your hips to pull you closer to him as you rut your hips again his face. When he groans against your core shedding shivers up your spine your throw your head back is your hand tugs at his hair softly.

you bite your lips to silence yourself in the hopes no one hears you but when he pulls away and bites your thigh you can’t but let out a whine. “let me hear you.” you shake your head as he pushes two fingers inside of you, “what if someone hears?” “let them hear us i dont care.”

Your grip on his hair grows tighter as you feel his lips wrap around your clit and his fingers begin to push in and out of you at a steady pace. you hunch over as you grow closer and closer, he revels in the way you’ve stopped holding yourself back and lets your sounds flood his ears. he can tell you’re close with the way your grip on his hair tightens even more and the way your thighs clench so snuggly around his head.

“gwayne.” he pulls away just enough to speak to you, “its okay let go.” he licks up every drop you spend out while his fingers help guide you through your peak. he stands back up and smiles at you with his bruised glossy lips. “do you want me to do the same?” he licks his lips and shakes his head, “not today beautiful as tempting as that is.” he presses his lips against yours as his hands work as his trousers to free himself. your hands join his and make quick works to free himself from his clothes leaving him bare. he picks you up and you giggle as he smiles against your lips and drops you onto the bed.

you grip his shoulders tightly as he begins to thrust into you. mumbling words of encouragement in your ear you hiss as he enters you more and more until he’s fully inside of you. he tries his best to restrain himself knowing you need time to adjust, he feels the way your walls clench around him and the way your eyes shut tightly he cant help but groan at the sensation of it all. fuck whores and fuck brothels he thought, nothing would truly get better than this. and when he starts to thrust and the way you sing to him is better than any wine.

he helps your legs wrap around him as his thrust grow more and more aggressive, as he watches your tits bounce he cant help but lean down and wrap his mouth around your nipple as he cries out. one of his had been on your thigh moves to rub your clit and only when you release around him does he allow himself to spend his seed inside you.

when you fall asleep on his chest as he traces shape in your skin a playful smile falls on his lips as he thinks about how furious cole will be, the man had been planning to marry you off to some old man who would agree to anything they said and now cole is going to be stuck dealing with him. yet he doesn’t care because as long as he can have you it doesn’t matter.

[thekinslayed]

Just You, Just Me: Prologue

summary | A pursuit to prove a point leads to a chance encounter that leaves you questioning the script you thought you knew. He was the kind of man you meet only once, or maybe over and over in your mind.

pairing | modern!aemond targaryen x columnist!reader

wordcount | 1k

tags | none yet!

note | happy thanksgiving! hope you like this little intro to this new world. hold on tight, we're going to have some fun <3

-> masterlist

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

We all know the story. Girl meets boy. Boy wines and dines her, sucks and fucks, holds her hand across town for 2 weeks. On Sunday, he promises her dinner on the Bay on Tuesday. Boy takes a rain check on Tuesday. An awfully long rain check. Girl never hears from boy again.

Welcome to King’s Landing. A floating island once said to be built by some lords on dragons, now a sprawling mecca of 20-something young women, some 30-and-more unmarried, stiff-gelled yuppies, and underwear models on billboards. There might have once been a castle high up on the hill, but the city is always a happy hunting ground. Strings are never attached and walks are never done in shame. It’s eat or be eaten. Or eat some more. 

This was where love sprouted wings and morphed into a horned monster that ate the fruit of monogamy. Thousands of 20-something, attractive, spry young women were stuck in the storybook where the 20-something, handsome, slick young man left her in the end. Same old, same old. But things are changing. For the first time, women had enough money, zeal, and almost enough power to lure a man into bed and leave him the next morning without having to feel anything. Haven’t you heard? Women can fuck like men too. 

Aegon Targaryen was the poster child of the system that ran KL. 32, silver-gold shorn locks, a pocketful of daddy’s cash, and an empty resumé written in ostrich skin, he cruised through life with an ease only nepotism can bestow. Now, were you once the girl who thought to change one of the city’s most well-spread bachelors? Perhaps. Were you the same girl when you were 24 and 26? Sure, but you learned your lesson soon enough. See, it’s the hair that really gets you, you know? And those thighs. Foolhardy Aeg was now your old reliable, who adorably thought he could still spin you around on his dragon-ringed finger but he was your sweet little guinea pig you could call up in a ring for a little experiment. All in pursuit of science, of course. This column didn’t write itself.

You found him at the bar at Gino’s with a cigarette hanging off his perfectly pouty lips. It didn’t take much effort— a ruffle of your hair, a chiffon strap falling off your shoulder, and the golden boy was dragging you halfway through Midtown to his 13th-floor flat. It was half past three when his name left your lips in a screech when he made you cum on his cold tongue ring. Something the girl at 24 and 26 certainly did not get. If you did, maybe you would’ve tried harder to cling to his scuffed Chelseas.

“Wow,” you said. A slight puddle of sweat pooled in between your collarbones because Aegon liked to keep his south-facing flat at 70 degrees. 

“I know,” he chuckled, emerging from the crumpled-down blankets and settling by your side. “Alright, love, my turn.”

You pouted at him, and told him you had to meet your editor uptown at 5. You left the confused, slightly offended pup with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to call. All in a day’s work.

Aegon would understand. He knew how the game worked. You left the sleek high rise with your shoulders pushed back and a glow in your skin that could only come from the power of the female sex. This was cathartic. No wonder men had the perpetual feather in their otherwise gaudy hats. With this revelation, you were ready to conquer the world with a newfound approach to sex in the city. 

The streets were an early rush hour maze. A man— work jacket, mud-stained jeans— bumped straight into your shoulder without a single glance away from his Scratch-Off card. And just like that, the bubble of your post-orgasmic hubris burst as the contents of your pearly Chanel splattered onto the concrete.

Your savior came in shiny brown Oxfords and a wool coat to match. You could barely look into his eyes as he handed your eyelash curler and the string of textured Trojans. You mumbled a thanks, and he told you it was no problem but the light quip in his tone told something else. You looked up to the glint of the late afternoon sun bouncing off glass, and a shimmer of slicked-back silver hair.

Another Targaryen.

King’s Landing had no shortage of this pale-haired, sharp-tongued breed, of course, but most you’ve met had diluted dragon’s blood, held little of the signature charm, except Aegon. Except this stranger before you. His eyes were icy blues, but one was a shimmering jewel of the finest treasure as he shamelessly stared at what you couldn’t hide. Your eyes met, and he knew that you knew, and he hadn’t backed down at all. 

“That’s a pretty necklace,” he smirked. Still staring. You heard yourself mutter a ‘Thanks. Vintage.’ and you started to desperately need a cigarette. 

“Mm. Looks like a million bucks on ya.” You spotted a dimple before the breeze blew your hair into your eyes. It felt warm. You felt seen, as though he knew exactly where you had just been. Mr. Blue then handed the last of your fallen pieces— a loose note, some pins, and a prayer card. With a nod and a painted amusement on his face seemingly plastered permanently, he brushed past you, way too close, and you swore something warm held onto the dip of your waist before the breeze took it away. He was a shadow of sorts, something there and not there at once, leaving behind only a fleeting sense of possibility. 

You couldn’t decide if you were charmed, challenged, or just caught in a game you didn’t know you’d started. Not a moment too soon, your stranger disappeared into the revolving glass doors you had just stridden out of, and you were left wondering if you had met a prophet, a thief, or the keeper of all the truths you’d been seeking. Your words were brief, your connection elusive, but something lingered, like the whisper of a story unfinished. Was it chance or design? In a place like this, can you ever tell the difference? You might not be as adept at this game as you thought you were. Maybe this was different. You might be a fool. Perhaps you really do just meet someone who knocks the air out of your lungs with a look, or maybe it’s the smog. As you walked aimlessly against the current of the tide, stumbling on your well-worn Blahniks, you couldn’t help but wonder— in a city as pungent and brutal as King’s Landing, is love at first sight a folly for the foolish?

[brittle-doughie]

Storm Warning (Black Pearl Cookie)

Yes, this is the sequel to Even More Heartbreak. Enjoy!

“Alright, take care of yourself, Y/N Cookie! Do be careful, the weather isn’t looking nice lately!”

You bided farewell to the shopkeeper as you exited, giving them a smile as you did so. The more you walked however, that smile slowly started to fade into a frown as you looked down at the ground, not wanting to look up at the brewing grey clouds forming at the sky.

You kept telling yourself that it was only natural that days without a single cloud in the sky could only mean the opposite when came time for a downpour, it was what you wanted to believe, because it meant having to consider other..unnatural options for this weather.

You didn’t want to dwell on it much further, you wanted to prep something nice for your beloved today, Seaweed Cookie. A chance meeting at the mud flats was all it took for the both of you to hit it off, she was able to fix what was once broken for you. She was the one to be there for you at your lowest, in her own odd way, but you treasured it nonetheless! The thought of her brought the smile back onto your face…

*CRASH!*

The sudden roar of thunder spooked you enough to make you want to jump! The shopkeeper wasn’t kidding about the weather as you make a dash to your home! You looked up at the sky and could see the clouds gathering on mass as you ran. That was all the confirmation you needed, no need to even look at the sea. Never at the sea…

Especially when the faint sound of crying can be heard…

———————————————————————

It was enough to practically have you bust down your door and close it behind you with the lock. It wouldn’t have done anything in actuality, but whatever amount of security was good enough for you. You had to quickly put down your items as you did your best to remain out of sight.

The sound of her crying was your first and only warning to hide. You didn’t know how, but the mermaid had somehow learned of your home city and has stuck around since. You feared what she would do if she had found you, what she would do to the Lower City, it was only a matter of time-

The sound of your door knocking made you jump again for today. It would snap you out of your thoughts, You couldn’t hear any more crying, making you confident enough to get up and head for the door.

“Happy to see you don’t keep a lady waiting, especially in weather like this..”

You mentally breathe a sigh of relief to see that it was Seaweed Cookie. You gladly let her in as you prepared a nice dinner between the two of you.

Seaweed talks about her routine of maintaining the mudflats, sometimes delving into this one time a cookie had showed disrespect by stomping around in it! How rude!

She then looks outside to see the rain coming in, taking interest in how hard the droplets were coming down onto the window.

“The weather seems particularly angry, it hasn’t let up for the past few days. It’s making the mud loose, washing away into the sea. Oh those who had been buried in there, their remains forever lost to sea..”

You had to hide how you winced when she stated that, having your grave being washed away into the sea. It was clearly not how any of those cookies would’ve wanted..

You held Seaweed Cookie’s hand tight, letting her know that you’d help her to make sure the mud remained stable enough to weather through the rain. Seaweed’s mouth curled up into a noticeable smile.

“Coming to my rescue as always, my hero~ Hehe…that’s always what I love about you~ I’ll be sure to give my hero a very nice reward for their troubles..”

She leaned towards you to kiss you on your cheek, something that you couldn’t help but blush madly about. She giggled at your flustered state, you were simply too cute for her to resist~

The storm only seemed to grow worse from there…

———————————————————————

You had Seaweed Cookie stay over for the night, the rain was just pouring down too hard for her to walk home. You had situated yourself in your living room with a blanket over you, your lamp illuminating the room.

The sounds of heavy rain pattering your window serving as background noise, interrupted with occasional lightning and thunder. It oddly lulled you to sleep as you close your eyes…

Only to open them quickly as you stood up, you were no longer on a bed, but in a boat. You got up as you frantically looked all around you, your house nowhere in sight. The Lower City itself was no longer anywhere…just open sea…

Sniff….sob…..sob

The sounds of crying was heard…

…but it sounded more..genuine, as if the cookie was really crying tears of sorrow…

You looked around you again, this time being able to spot something, or someone, resting on a rock only a fair distance away. She looked like…but she was different in appearance. As if…

You wanted to approach, to see if you can help the mercookie in any way…but…this familiar feeling to stay back was also present. Why…? This only made you feel more conflicted…

A creak from your boat had decided for you. The mercookie’s head shot up from her arms and turned to you, tears staining her cheeks.

You…asked if she was okay.

“I-I’m okay. It’s just….my heart, it hurts…”

You gently take her hand into yours, hoping your assistance could help her. You tell her that she isn’t alone…

“You mean that?”

“You won’t…betray me? My heart can’t handle another blow, I already too many things at once…”

You understand that you were a stranger to her, that you couldn’t be fully trusted, but…you still wanted to help. The mercookie spoke softly to you, still sniffling.

“Do you what it’s like..? To have someone you hold dear destroy everything you had thought of them as? To have your heart crumble bit by bit?”

You…told her that this feeling was…familiar to you, something that catches her attention as she looks at you.

You had..wished to dedicate your heart and love to a cookie you wanted to meet for months. You were overjoyed when you got to see her at last, you had proclaimed your love for her…only, she didn’t feel the same at all. Even tossed everything you gave her back at you…you were destroyed…

“You…”

However, you got back up. You kept moving on, with help from others. Even if the cookie you once cared for tossed you aside, you held no real malice towards her. You understood and just…let her go.

The sounds of crying halted your speaking, as the mercookie clutched your hand tightly.

“Y/N Cookie. I’m…I’m so sorry…”

You tell her it was okay, you had learned to live with it-

“N-no. I really do mean it…I’m sorry, Y/N Cookie…”

Again, you told her…wait…you didn’t remember giving your name to her…

“I was scared. I was afraid of being hurt again. After what he did…but I should’ve seen you as different than him…”

“You were better than him…”

She clutched your hand tighter.

That feeling of dread returned in full force as you looked at her, trying to remain calm. Only to be meet with that shadowed stare right back at you..

“To think we’ve could’ve been together, you and I…”

“I was a fool to push you away…”

“But I promise to change that. I won’t let you go again. To love you with all of my being…..”

“Let us join in the Sea together…”

You had enough and broke free from her hold as you paddled away with your hands, rain started to patter on you.

The sound of crying returned…

Sniff…sob…sob…

…as it slowly turned to giggling…

“Sob…hehe….hehe…”

….then into laughter….

“Hehe…AHAHAHAHAHA!”

You turned around and your heart had never been struck with so much fear…

Black. Pearl. Cookie.

“AHAHAHAHAHA! You think you can escape me AGAIN?! HOW ADORABLE!”

“And when that wretched, laughable waste of life is reduced to nothing, it will just be me and you again~”

Your hands turned soggy the faster you paddled with them, not caring if they were reduced to soggy stumps. You needed to get away.

You felt your arms being grabbed as you yelped out, it looked like more sea cookies had joined you as they held your arms close to them, two at each side.

To your left, mercookies of crimson and purple. To the right, a jellyfish and a mercookie of blue.

They were pale and weak-looking, as if they haven’t nourishment in days, with deranged eyes staring deep into yours. They all spoke in unison.

“Please…stay with us. Stay. Stay. Stay.”

The laughing behind you grew louder and louder as you frantically tried to pull free.

The last thing you saw as you turned around was Black Pearl Cookie rushing towards you in the water.

“LET US FALL INTO THE DEEPEST OF OCEAN ABYSSES TOGETHER!!

———————————————————————

The crash of lightning made you spring up from your couch with a loud yelp as you held your chest tightly, trying to breathe.

“Are you okay?!”

Seaweed Cookie came to your side, holding you tightly as you tried to calm down your breathing. It took a while but you’ve managed to settle down, thanking Seaweed Cookie as you kissed her cheek.

You allowed her to return to your room, as you went to collect your thoughts in your kitchen, wishing that it was just a bizarre dream.

Who was that familiar cookie?

What was she talking about with a cookie she had known?

Who were those mercookies?

It felt way too much unlike a dream.

….but you prayed that it was.

You could hear giggling out in the distance.

You turned to your window into the morning rain.

White, pinprick eyes far into the ocean stared right back at you as the giggling turned into laughter. The heavy rain doing little to muffle it out.

She…had found you.

[mintmatcha]

Your daughter returns home the following night, her slumbering form thrown over her father's shoulder. Her backpack is slung over the other, artwork and other miscellaneous kindergarten papers jammed into the stuck zipper. They're two hours later than promised, but, for once, you don't say anything. You just open the door and let him walk in.

"I think she's getting sick." Bakugo kicks his boots off as he walks. His voice is soft enough that you can hear the bits of dried mud spatter against the carpet. "Snottier than usual."

You hum an acknowledgement. Bakugo looks different every time you see him. Sometimes his haircut is fresh or his outfit is new. Today, the creases in his smile liners are deeper, like he's been enjoying life without you more than ever. His brow is always pinched tight in a constant wrinkle, but today it's looser, and it looks more like it did when you were young.

"Little fucker sneezed right in my mouth yesterday." His daughter shifts a bit and he drops his voice even lower, even softer. "Don't know how she did it."

Even with his baby on his hip, he maneuvers around the house with ease, swaying his hip to avoid the table and even skipping over the horrible third step and it's awful creak. You follow him, padding quietly behind the two as they head to her room. He places her on top of the covers with a kiss on the forehead, lingering for a moment before backing out into the dark hall again.

He handles her with such a delicacy that, if you were a worse person, you might be jealous. It's a tenderness you fought our, you once begged for- and she gets it effortlessly.

Which is good, you remind yourself. She deserves to be loved correctly.

So do you. That's why you left.

"Are you dying or something?"

Bakugo's voice snaps you out of your thought process. He's watching you, brow furrowed just as it should be.

"You're being real quiet."

You shrug. When you head back down stairs, he follows. You both skip the noisy step.

"I'm being serious." You swear you feel the ghost of air on the back of your shoulder- the echo of him reaching for you, but not connecting. When you turn, its still there, hanging in the air, still as a deer in the high beams of an eighteen wheeler.

"You better go home before your girlfriend gets pissy."

He exhales through his nose, shoulders and hand falling. You wait for the anger, wait for the fight, but the impact never arrives.

"Nah, we ain't-" His earnestly surprises you. "It's done."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's fine."

He shrugs with one shoulder, adam's apple bobbing. There's so much to say, there's nothing left unspoken. Soon, he'll go home and sleep in his own bed. You'll sleep in one you used to share. There's no reason to stay, but you both linger.

[alienoresimagines-archive]

can you write [knuckles] for a kiss on the hand? thank you!!

I'm sorry this took so long, I hope you're still around 🥺❤️But here it is, 1.8k long despite my best efforts at keeping it under 1k 😅 I hope you'll like it 💕 Also on AO3 My other Clegan fics here

Never Coming Down (With Your Hand In Mine) | Buck x Bucky

The radio they managed to find doesn't tell them much of interest regarding the Allies’ troops and their progress, but writing any tidbits of information down gives John something to focus on that isn't this camp, this life that isn't really a life but that isn't death either, just some in-between that John is stuck in, unable to do anything or be useful. One foot in the grave and every day wishing a bit more it was both. In the darkest corner of his mind, he thinks that perhaps his death would save Gale from tiring himself to the bone trying to keep John tethered to Earth. Maybe, at least then, he could be useful to Buck. 

The thought is squashed away almost immediately, guilt crawling in his throat. Those few days after Gale had gone down over Bremen were the worst in John's life. The certainty that he was now a piece of something that would never be whole again, with no home to fight for anymore, had been the most excruciating pain John's ever known. Over the course of just a few months, he’s lost more friends than he can count, each loss cutting deeper. But losing Gale hadn’t just felt like losing a limb. From the moment Red’s distorted voice reached his ears through the phone - “He went down swinging, John” - he was an empty shell walking, his chest hollow with no heart, some vital part of him missing. No matter how miserable this camp makes him, wishing such agony on his best friend, his better half is unbearable. If only to spare Gale any additional pain, he’ll plant both feet in the mud until they stop trying to get him closer to that barbed-wire fence. 

Yet, despite desperately wishing Gale out of harm’s way, his being chained to the dirt with him is John’s saving grace. In the darkness of the Stalag, Gale shines brighter than the North Star, and John fights every day to keep himself from the fog in his head to grasp at this soft golden light. It's easier at night, the weight of Gale in his arms a grounding presence, the distinct smell of him feeling more and more like home, but John is starting to make it through some days always there too. Listening to the radio also helps, especially when most days, it's just him and Gale at the table, the others keeping watch on the guards from outside. Soon it'll be too cold for them to do so without it being suspicious or dangerous for their own health, but for now, John is glad he gets to spend more time alone with Gale. His ma always said he fights tooth and nail for those he loves, and right now, he's desperately grasping at the fading rays of sunlight, selfishness be damned.

Today, the BBC doesn't have any interesting news to keep hold of his attention for long, so he mostly scribbles down what he hears without making sense of the words strung together, too focused on the solid presence of Buck on his right. With both of them being right-handed, it would have been too much of a hindrance to be pressed close enough for their shoulders to touch, but their knees knock together every so often, like silent banter. It sends sparks of warmth down John's spine, the focused tilt of Gale's mouth only amusing him in his boredom. In the past five minutes, he's sent his knee against Gale's in soft presses, alternating between lingering and fleeting touches until the word B-U-C-K is successfully floating in the air, though the man himself seems entirely unaware of it, tongue darting between his lips in concentration. Bucky's debating coding G-A-L-E, just to see if the rare occurrence of his given name will snap the other out of his focus when said man grunts softly as he scribbles, pencil scratching the paper as it nears the edge. John mindlessly hands him a blank piece of paper, more than attuned to all the different ways the other has to ask for something without voicing his desires, eyes trained on the stray blond curl falling on Buck’s forehead. Without lifting his eyes from his piece of paper, Gale extends a pale hand to take John's offering, the contact of their fingers sending a jolt through John's blood. He lets out a yelp, slightly jerking back before diving in to hold Gale's hands between his own, Buck's sound of confusion and protest as his pencil is thrown out of his hold swallowed by John's cursing.

"Jesus, Buck, your hands are fuckin' freezing." John doesn't feel particularly warm but the difference in temperature between both their hands is such that he half-expects the air to start hissing. How Gale can still move his fingers is a mystery to him, and his gut goes tight with worry. Trying to rub warmth back into those hands, John brings them to his face so that he can blow hot air on long fingers. He's deeply aware of how intimate the gesture is, especially in a place like this, and he can feel heat rising to his cheeks but he focuses stubbornly on his task. Keeping his eyes on those hands he’s never held so close to his face is a necessary precaution to ensure he doesn’t dismiss any inch of skin in his mission to warm them enough that he doesn’t have to worry about them falling off, and it has the additional effect of allowing John to study them without fearing being caught.

Gale's hands truly are beautiful. They've always been, and in the years he's known the other, John has spent more time than he probably should have admiring them. How they wrap in a strong grip around the yolk to wield a metal fortress effortlessly, how long, slender fingers bring a toothpick to the plump curve of his lips. Calluses on fingers and rough palms that were still so gentle and kind when they tended to John's wounds just a few months ago. Today, they look frail and dry, the knuckles angry red and cracked from the cold. It hurts to even look at them, those hands that were more suited for piano and gently guiding horses across fields now cracked by misery and cold. Acting on an urge, he presses a kiss to the knuckles of both, a silent promise to warm them and get them better, to get them far from weapons and barbed fences, and back to horses and piano and books.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Gale blinking owlishly at him, perfectly still. Between them, the radio crackles, words floating in the air but never making it to any paper. After a few more seconds, Gale's voice rises too, soft despite his usual deep southern drawl.

"I need my hands back, Bucky." John frowns, still rubbing his palms over Gale's hands to warm them. Admittedly, he knows Gale can't write with his foot, even though imagining it almost makes him smile, but really, nothing the BBC is broadcasting right now is worth the risk of Gale losing his hands to the cold. Unconsciously, he brings Gale's hands closer to his face, just shy of nuzzling them with the tip of his nose, already thinking of all the ways he could get them warm. It would be, like many things, easier at night. With the cold, everybody has taken up to sharing a bunk and no one would notice if Gale's hands were pressed to his skin, under his shirt. Even though the thought of those icicles against more sensitive skin than his palms isn't exactly a pleasant one, he'd do it in a heartbeat. For the day, when it would be too risky for John to hold Gale's hands in his pockets, maybe he could find him some gloves, at least make mittens out of socks, to soften the blow of the cold and the sting of the wind. 

"Bucky ?" Eyes snapping to Gale's, he finds him with his head slightly tilted to the side, cheeks red from the cold. It's then he realizes he still has both of Gale's hands in his. The other looks at him and then back at his paper before raising his brows in a silent question, making John huff. Reluctantly, he lets go of Gale's right hand but immediately cradles his left hand on his lap. He hopes Gale will be satisfied with this, but the other keeps looking at him insistently, a fond glint in his eyes but brows slightly furrowed, as if his left hand being held in both of John's is a math problem he can’t solve.

At the silent question, he rolls his eyes and makes a show of putting his own left hand on the upper part of Gale's paper, making sure it doesn't move from its spot on the table. The paper is smooth against his fingertips, contrasting with the rough feel of the wooden table that has given them more than their fair share of splinters on his palm. He misses the feeling of Gale’s hands in his. For a moment, he had felt whole in a way he usually only feels at night. Gale's hand is starting to get warmer in his, the skin rough from the cold, but John has never held something as delicate and precious as it, save for Gale himself.

Resting their joined hands on his lap, he intertwines their fingers and fights down the blush he can feel creeping up his neck, eyes resolutely on the paper in front of the other. There’s no reason to feel nervous, they’ve slept in each other’s arms so often by now it really shouldn’t matter, but something about the fact that this isn’t about survival forces him to take a deep breath before moving. With one slide over the bench, his side is pressed to Gale’s, shoulders rising and falling in tandem. He’s glad to notice that Buck isn’t as cold as his hands, warmth seeping from his side to John’s as rapidly as the tension leaves the set of his shoulders until he’s pressing back into John.

They'll work slower like that but Gale doesn't protest nor take his hand away, only resettling slightly so his thigh also rests against John’s. Tentatively, he risks a glance at Gale and finds him looking down at the table, face still red but from something John has an inkling isn't the cold anymore, biting his bottom lip softly but mouth nonetheless quirked upwards. It takes every ounce of strength and self-restraint in him not to kiss him, to smother the affection blooming in his chest. Instead, after a bit of silence in which he feels he might suffocate on pent-up love, John squeezes Gale's hand in his and the other seems to focus back on his task, startled. Clearing his throat, Gale starts scribbling again, pointedly avoiding looking to his left, but John doesn't mind, a smile spreading his cracked lips, fondness written plain on his face as he doesn’t look away for a second.

On his lap, Gale squeezes his hand back.

[the-fiction-witch]

The Tourney

Media - House Of The Dragon

Character - Daemon Targaryen

Couple - Daemon X Reader

Reader - Y/n (Lady Non-Specific House)

Rating - Sweet + Flirty

Word Count - 877

I smiled as I held my dress as I walked through the gravel stones, passed tents, carts and people busy with the preparations for the tourney in celebration of the birth king's son. The birth had yet to happen, but many said it wouldn't be long. I held the skirt of my black dress up from the dirty gravel stones. Blood and mud coated the stones as people came and went from the main tourney arena. I snuck my way through the mess of tents until I found the one I had been looking for and I quickly went inside before I was spotted. Pulling back the red tent flap to slip myself inside, I saw the various fine objects littered about the dark Valyrian steel armour with details of scales, dragons and red lining half laid out and the other half being added to him.

Daemon stood in his tent wearing his underclothes, as well as black leather to protect his skin, already in boots, greaves, poleyn, a young squire boy trying to assist him with his black steel cuirass and dragon scale faulds that reached his mid-thigh but causing more trouble than he was assistance. The look on Daemon's face read of frustration with the boy.

"Enough." he demanded before his attention turned to me, "You may go, boy."

The boy didn't say a word he just nodded and quickly left without even looking up from his own feet, 

"Must you worry me," I told him,

"How am I worrying you?" He scoffed, 

I went over and began to help adjust it and actually get it on correctly, "You know how these things frighten me,"

"Everything I do frightens you," he chuckled looking into my eyes but I focused only on his amour,

"Yes. Perhaps you should do something about that?" I teased him,

"If I stopped doing everything that frightened you, I'd be stuck in the castle watching you knit for the rest of my life,"

"That such a bad thing?"

"it excites you as well as frightens you. Admit it."

"You should wear mail," I remind him ignoring his comment, 

"Not in a tourney, I need to be fast, and agile." He answered, 

"Others in the tourney wear mail."

"And others lose."

"Doesn't mean you shouldn't," I told him as I picked up the breastplate and buckled him into it, he watched me often as my hands slid over his body, buckling it at each side and ensuring each the three panels covered in dragon scales where still flexible enough to move with the two dragons on his pecks and back. 

"Would it please you if I did?"

"Not if you lost," I admitted as I took the tassets with the same three layers and the dragon worked into the metal, from the side and moved to my knees to attach them to his breastplate straps, as I did he stroked my jaw and picked my head up to meet his eyes, 

"You look very perfect down there,"

"Do I?" I raised an eyebrow, 

"Is my sweet lady going to kiss me for luck?"

"Perhaps,"

"Can she kiss me now?"

"I'm busy," I remind him tugging on his amour, "I need to be down here,"

"I don't recall mentioning you standing." he smirked, I just rolled my eyes and returned my focus, "Do not worry for me," he said more seriously, 

"I cannot." I admit, "No matter what I will be fearful,"

"Even if I tell you not to,"

"Even so my prince," I nodded as I got to my feet, I helped him into the more simple things, vambrace, rerebrace, couter, gauntlets and his very dramatically sculpted pauldron. All of which the same dark steel with scales, and red lining all dramatically sculpted as a dragon prince would need to live up to such a title. As I attached the gorget around his neck he smiled at me, he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips pressing a small kiss, 

"You know you are on my mind, always. I do not act without first thought of you. I will not be reckless I promise."

"Thank you," I smiled

I took his belt from the side and wrapped it tightly,

"So dramatic." He glared slightly at my tightening, 

"I am not the one needing to be called out. for dramatics." I glared as I passed his dramatic dragon helmet with metal wings and a long red and black plume, 

He took it in hand and gave me an unamused look, "Do I not get a good luck kiss?"

I rolled my eyes playfully and gave his lips a soft and tender kiss, he happily kissed back and set his hands on my waist before he pulled back with a smile, "Good luck,"

"Thank you, my lady," He cooed, "I will perform. With your trust, your belief and your luck behind me. Always." He says kissing my head, "I would take your favour if I could, and have it with me as I go,"

"I know you would," I nodded, 

"I'll save a flower for you," he chuckled before he headed to the door to grab his Targaryen shield and his lance,

"Daemon?" I turned,

"Yes Y/n?" he stopped at the tent flaps,

"Be careful my love," I pleaded,

"I will be. I promise my darling," he nodded before he headed out to fetch his horse and begin the tourney. 

[chocolate-floof]

Fuck it, short homelander fic

Tw: canon typical violence, homelander, stalking detailed description of injuries. Allusion the child abuse and neglect (blink and you'll miss it) Sfw

Clicking send you finally finished the report for the day. Seeing the time on your phone, you had to do a double take to make sure you saw correctly. You had been here for nearly 12 hours, thanklessly working the night shift, despite also taking the mid-day shift. Working in media crisis management for the seven can be hard work especially when the member you have to deal with is the homelander. Deciding to use this time to your advantage, you walk around the darkened corporate hallways, mapping the building out internally, unaware of the prying eyes watching your every move.

"What is she still doing here?" He questioned to himself. Sometimes homelander gets bored and lonely, so he decides to watch the occasional Vought employees and how they run their "normal" lives that he definitely doesn't want, it's not stalking they should be glad their holding his attention! But their was something... Strange about you. He could never quite figure out what it was that made you feel so... Different compared to the rest. Maybe it was how much you work, often forgetting to take care of your bodily needs, maybe it's how interact with people, like your trying your best to make everyone happy. Or perhaps it has something to do with how often you flinch when people touch you. Whatever it is, for the past week he's been stuck on watching YOU. He watches you pack your things into your purse and head out. Clutching your purse closer to you as you weave and make your way down the city streets and through alleyways with seemingly no care for yourself.

He hears a scream, from a nearby alleyway he hears a woman scream in terror "I don't have it ,please!" She yells, the sharp shift in volume stinging his ears. He ignores it, trying surveil you but the panic continues. With a small irritated sigh he looks over, and lasers into the man's heart, chest now and open cavity he tries to scream and fails. He tries to put his hand were his heart once was, attempting to pant before blackened thick visceral starts spilling from his agape mouth and he falls to the ground, gurgling on his own blood. The woman looks up spotting homelander before running away without a word. "Not even a fucking thank you." He quietly says to himself before turning to follow your flowery scent. Making it to your small one bedroom apartment he watches from the roof of a near by building as you make yourself dinner. Your seemingly having a rice dish tonight, chickpea curry. The smell wafts from your open balcony door and he wants to fly closer to see if he can get more of it. He wonders if you'd ever cook for him. If you'd ever pet his head the way you pet your cat, like it's the most valuable and lovely thing you have. He wonders if you have the the same infatuation with his life as he does yours. People wanted him dead, his son seems to hate him and he's started aging abruptly. It felt like his life was falling apart, as the noise of everyday became louder, more urgent, suffocating. But when he watches you his thoughts quiet down. It MUST be because your life is so much more boring than his, because theirs no way he'd be stuck on a simple mud person he hasn't even spoken to once. No it's not because he wonders if you'd watch him too. Not because he wonders if you smile at him like that. Not because he wondered if the syrupy sound you make as you say "I love you so much" to the small mammal curled in your lap would ever be directed at him. He didn't wonder about you, no that preposterous. He just wished you'd be less oblivious, and less alluring.

[dreamerinthefog]

WW1 Twinfangs AU! SmokeStack x Remmick

[Funny thing! This was gonna be an omegaverse rant but war au made me so blind with lust that I blacked out. And yet. Somehow this is still Omegaverse.]

Cw: Stalking, Dubcon, Noncon(?), Pervert Remmick

Without further ado!

Directionless rambling.

Where Remmick tracks the SmokeStack twins all the way through Europe to the trenches.

Walking into their camp like he owns the place. Following them from one location to the next. Until they're so close to the battle they're in the midst of the trenches. When the twins first find him near their tent, they think he's an alpha sniffing after them. Caught on to the two omegas who'd acquired a hoard of suppressants and somehow those pills aren't working or not all of them were legit. Its easiest to point a gun at him this time and tell him to fuck off.

“Where did you come from?”

“What do you want? What's your clearance and WHAT DO YOU KNOW?”

He doesn't even bother to hide it.

“I picked up on the sweetest scents and I just wanted to come around and see who left a pair of omegas on a battlefield. Doesn’t seem right. Figured I should investigate but looking around… all I see here are alphas and betas. And, you two.”

Like— He tracked them down hundreds of miles cuz he caught a WHIFF in the air all the way from Ireland. Remmick’s on the battlefield helping keep the twins alive even though they did! not! ask!

He's ghost in the trenches. Everyone says it.

But if such a thing was possible, if the bullet riddled thing walking through no man's land were real... Wouldn't there be more of the walking dead?

Like... Everyones SEEN Remmick around the twins. Hell they've even spoken to him. An Irish man in a uniform with no tags …always with this red distant light in his eyes like a flare got stuck in them after he stared at it too long. Always disappearing the moment you look away.

Guardian angel but Smoke swears he saw that motherfucker by Stack's bunk covered in blood.

Sniffing his sheets, too.

Remmick is always appearing at bedsides. Talking to people. Comforting them.... Before they die. Before they disappear into the mud. Disappear like they were never here to begin with. And Smoke can only think, with all the time that "angel" spends with Stack. That he's next.

That maybe that angel is a demon and he's just taking people down with him. And Stack. Is. Next. That thing has been following them since that night. It couldn't be human. It walks too quiet. He swears he's seen it move across the room when its feet weren't even touching the fucking GROUND. When it comes back at night drenched in blood and smiling like the white devil it is, there's an unnaturalness in the length of its teeth. In the curve and the point.

He's never seen Remmick at his bedside but he knows he's come for him, too. Seen those eyes that burn forever in the darkness. Not with his own eyes, but in his dreams. He just wants them to go away. To burn out and let him keep his focus on fighting the fight that's going to get his brother killed if he stops watching Stack’s back for a second.

He's gonna kill this demon. Or at least scare if off. Make it known he's not wanted. That they don't need minding. And that as omegas, they don't need some fucked up alpha getting between what they have.

He tells Stack to switch bunks with him. Just for a night. Keeps his gun under the pillow and when Remmick comes to see his lil bro, Remmick leans in until his lips brush against Smoke's ear. "Is swapping places a twin thing, Smoke?”

His blood goes cold and when he reaches for the gun, it's gone. Tucked in the back of Remmick’s pants. Smoke wants to scream. Wake them all up and jump the motherfucker. But he knows if he does, Remmick will just vanish.

“‘M not trying to hurt you, sweetheart.”

But it hurts, anyway. Knowing this alpha has power over him. Not power in the line of command. Cuz this man is not a soldier … not in this war.

The power he has over Smoke makes him ache in places he'd only ever let Stack and Annie sooth. This alpha has the power to scare the shit outta him… and to make him whimper when his hand leaves his hip.

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

Meanwhile Stack just thinks he's losing his mind. That the Irish ghost is just him going mad. From all the death. From some lasting brain injury back when his Pa almost beat him to death and stole his place in the grave. From something innately wrong with him.

Because he doesn't know this man. Never seen him before now. But then he reaches out, expecting his fingers to pass right through, and, instead feels the stubble of the man leaning into him like they've known each other forever. That alpha with the keen nose. Since no one else has called them omegas since. No one's thought about looking for a gash under their cocks when they all wash up. They keep to themselves. Don't like to be stared at and get out quick.

It's just Remmick that knows.

When other men start bringing him up, now it's a matter of mass hallucination. ‘Cept no one ever talks about the angel of death kneeling at the twins bedside. He chooses when he wants to be seen. Slipping his hands under Stack’s blankets and splaying his hand across his belly.

When Stack closes his eyes shut, feels his hand on his length, Remmick always tells him that this is just for him. That he has to be quiet. That he won't touch him up too rough. That he'll go slow, give the man a chance to collect himself. When he dips his finger into Stack’s slick heat, he KNOWS he's got to be dreaming. THIS CAN'T BE REAL.

Worse yet, the angel of death? He goes slooooow. Torturously. Just as promised. Remmick keeps his eyes on Stack's face as he bites his cover and wants to see him bite something else. He wants to take Stack with him so bad. Him and his brother. Have the twins all to himself and make it through this war with them alive.

Or sweetly dead.

Changed in a way that's not just mental.

(⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

He's wreaking havoc on the other side, too. There's no one over there that he wants, however.

None of the omegas mixed in with the alphas and the betas, all doomed to die because they were running out of other young men to send to their deaths. He doesn't take as much pleasure in killing them as he usually does. But, he can't deny that he's literally on cloud nine picking off the dying. He's feasting on so many memories and thoughts, drowning in a banquet of blood that he almost wishes would never stop. Which side are his prey on? Doesn't matter. It's all tasty. And young.

Except his omegas are in the middle of it all. Except his omegas are here. And, in constant danger.

He's a man of conflicting values at this moment. Bringing final death to the victims in No Man's Land and gorging on those still living but also still dying in a sea of bodies. Their bodies and minds are too far gone to give up to eternity. So he gives them to paradise with the stroke of his claws and drinks from the brooks of their bodies and the floods of their wounds.

He keeps his omegas coddled. Even if Smoke won't call him his alpha.

When Stack thinks he's just a vision of war smoldering in his mind that doesn't really exist.

He keeps them company as they keep each other safe.

He dreams of dragging them onto the road without end. Of stealing them away from this hate and preserving them in his palace of eternity. But, they'd never accept it. Not now.

When they're so fragile and so defensive. So, he waits. He watches and waits and thirsts for their blood. Their slick. And, their overly familiar bond.

Remmick wants them and all that they are made of. Wants their attention, their love, and their story. He wants their heats and their connections. Remmick wants their family.

He'll follow them home and then he'll set up shop in their hearts. Like he was always meant to be.

[chelleztjs18]

Ten Days (W.M) Pt. 5

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Y/n and Wanda is stuck in an arranged marriage. What will happen when both of them have their own deals to be done in ten days?

Warning: 18+ SMUT, swearing words, fluff, angsts (specific warning for each parts)

A/n: Well, hey there! I'm back with this series after a while. This chapter is a Valentine's gift for my sweet, Curious George anon. This is a miniseries fic that's inspired by "How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days" romcom. If you haven't read this series before, I recommend to read from part 1. (Series masterlist below) Happy reading!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

The rain is pouring. Thunders and lighting sometimes take turns to show their existence. You went straight to Wanda’s house after you spent some time with Yelena and Nat at your place to talk about the plans you have in mind.

Wanda’s heart skips a beat and her face instantly patches a smile as soon as she hears her doorbells. She rushes her steps to the door. Wanda has been waiting for you to come and she greets you with an excited smile.

“Finally! My pretty future wife—” but her smile turns to a little frown and her flirtatious words stop abruptly after she sees you soaking wet and your shoes are covered with mud.

“Hi babe!” Without giving her a chance to avoid it, you hug Wanda quickly and her clothes get a little wet from your drenched clothes. “Oh, hi wife. Why are you soaking wet and covered in mud?” she asked.

“Babe, I'm cold. Can I come in?”

“Uh y-yeah but your–your sh–.” Wanda hesitantly responds but you interrupt her by just walking into her house, leaving traces of mud and trails of dripping water all over the clean white floor.

“My what?” you play dumb. You know Wanda is internally freaking out about the mud and the water, so you walk around more. You try to look confused as you take off your jacket.

“Y-your muddy shoes. You know what darling, it’s okay. I will ask the maid to clean it.” Wanda put on a smile while trying to keep herself together to not tell you to stop walking around spreading more abstract muddy patterns. 

“Oh okay, uh where should I put this wet jacket babe? Can I just put it on the couch? I forget where the bathroom is.” You walk around in a random path before you walk closer to the white fancy expensive couch in the living room.

“Gaah, NO..No..No..No..” Wanda’s loud spontaneous NO stops your move. Good thing that Wanda is behind you and can’t see your face, you almost laugh.

Wanda chuckles awkwardly, putting a forced smile and quickly grabbing yet gently the wet jacket off your hand. She realized her reaction was a bit much but she couldn't help it. Wanda loves everything clean and spotless.

“Y/n sweetheart, uh let me take this from you and how about you take off those pretty shoes now so i can put it outside, okay?” Wanda crouches and helps you take them off. You smile, thinking how sweet she is and you feel bad but the plan must go on.

“What? You will put my shoes outside? They're expensive shoes. What if it ruins it or someone takes it?” You whine as needy as you can to annoy her.

“I know, darling. I can see that. I’ll get you a new one, okay?” she responds as she stands up, holding your dirty shoes.

“Really? You gonna get me a new one? They have some new arrivals, you're gonna get them for me too?” you try to act like materialistic girls to make her lose interest in you.

“Yes, princess.” She answers with a smile. “I would rather pay for new expensive shoes than getting my floor all dirty.” Wanda mumbles, under her breath as she turns around.

“What did you say, Wands?”

“Oh nothing. I said anything for my future wife. Just-just please stay there, y/n.” Wanda patches another awkward smile, hoping you didn’t hear what she said earlier. “Okay..okay..” You agreed in more whiny tones.

“So what happened to you on the way here?” Wanda asks as she does what she needs to do to your jacket and shoes.

“I got a flat tire, so I gotta change it.” you explained. Little does Wanda know, nothing happened. You intentionally stopped at random dirt roads nearby just enough so the rain got you wet and got you as dirty as you can.

Wanda comes back to you, stands so close and it gives you giddy feelings. “Aw, you could’ve called me, love. I would’ve helped you. Next time, if you need anything, just call me, okay?” She pushes aside your hair gently to see your face that she genuinely adores. Then her hand cups your cheek, followed by soft rubs from her thumb on it. Her smile shows automatically whenever she sees you.

Gosh, her green eyes. There is something about them that draws you. You don’t know what it is but oh well, you think it’s probably nothing. Maybe it’s just the color. You clear your throat to prevent yourself from getting lost in those charming eyes.

“Uh, Wands? I’m cold.”

Wanda quickly gets back from the trance. Both of you look a little awkward.

 “Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. I apologized, my dear. You need to shower and change clothes. The guest bathroom–”

“No, your bathroom. I don’t want to use the guest bathroom, am i still just a guest for you babe? So much for being your future wife.” you roll your eyes, showing her your pretend unamused expression.

“Uh right, right. Well, okay then. You can go to my room and use my bathroom and wear my clothes after that.”

“Sounds good. I just want cozy clothes since we are relaxing.” you demand one more time.

“Coming right up.” Wanda smiles as soon as she sees your smile.

_____

You turned on the shower to trick Wanda that you are taking a shower while you move on to the next plan.

You took out some fake pieces of hair and spread it in the bathroom floor, bathroom sink and even in the shower to leave some fake trails of your hair falls.

Thanks to Yelena’s interest in pranking others, she lets you borrow her things. You wonder what other things you can use for the plan. You take them out from your purse quietly and you read what’s written on it. Fart Cushion and Fart Spray, you shake your head a little, trying to figure out when and how these two things will work.

Then you hear Wanda is saying something from the other side of the door. “Y/n, I got the towel and clothes for you. Do you want me to put the towel in the bathroom and leave the clothes in my bed, darling? Then I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

An idea pops up in your mind right away and you want to laugh as soon as you figure out that now is the perfect time to use these two things.

“Can you wait for me until I’m done please babe? I don’t want you to be far away from me, I miss you. I’ll tell you when I’m done. You don’t miss me?” you try to sound needy and irrationally clingy.

“Wait, what? Of course I miss you. Can’t I just wait downstairs?” Wanda responds. She likes knowing you slowly got hooked into her plan deeper. Wanda never likes clingy girls but she knows better to shrug it off for the sake of her plan.

“No, I want you to be near me. Just wait there.” you pretend to be more demanding.

Wanda takes a little deep breath and agrees. “O–okay, I’ll be here.” as she sits on her bed.

While Wanda is waiting patiently in the room with some clothes and a towel for you, all of a sudden she hears something unexpectedly. Unbeknownst to her, you squeeze the cushion. Wanda was shocked with the loud sound, thinking it was from you passing some gas in the bathroom. Her eyes round up. “Oops, excuse me babe!” you said as you tried not to laugh.

“It’s okay. I didn’t hear anything, love.” Wanda tries to let her mind about it pass over her head and another same loud noise breaks out of the bathroom. “Oh my gosh.” she mumbles to herself in surprise.

“Ooops, I’m sorry.” Once again you express your fake apology. You didn’t hear anything from Wanda.

“Wands, are you still there?”

Hearing your voice looking for her, Wanda quickly gets off her bed and gets to the door. “Uh yes, I’m still here. Do you need anything?” she asks from behind the door.

You squeeze some sprays out of the bottle and to your surprise, it really stinks. It’s worse than a flatulence usually smells.“Yeah, I’m almost done. Gonna need the towel soon.” you answer as you try to hold a gag while covering your nose from the smell. You quietly dry heave in between walking back to the shower, pretending to continue your shower.

“Oh okay. I have your towel here.” Wanda signals you.

“You can come in. It’s unlocked.” You informed.

“Are you sure?” Wanda hesitantly asks.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

You heard Wanda open the door and walk in. Wanda caught off guard by a blow of soft air mixed with the smell from the spray. She vaguely scrunches her nose as the stinky aroma intrudes her senses. Her eyes rounded once more but she tried not to react to it. 

“Pffftt.. What did you eat?” Wanda mumbles. You pretend you didn’t hear it clearly. “Did you say something babe?”

“Oh? Nothing. Here you go, love. I’ll just hang it here.” Wanda is having a hard time talking while holding her breath at the same time.

You notice her being respectful and trying not to look at you but you want her to walk to you so she will notice more the smells in the bathroom. “Babe, can you bring it here please?”

“Oh okay.” She agrees half heartedly, all she wants right now is to walk out of that trapped air that bothers her nose.

She hands you the towel and her eyes give up the effort to not look at you. She sees the silhouette of your body through the opaque glass shower door. Her brain seems to forget the smells around her for a few seconds until she hears your voice and feels your hand gently tucks the towel that she still holds in her hand.

“Oh. Uh, I’m sorry. Here you go.” You smile at her when she finally lets go of the towel. Unfortunately, the nose smells the smell again and Wanda clears her throat but being the caring person she is, she asks you.

“Are you okay, love? Is your tummy upset?” as much as Wanda cares about you but she instantly regrets her question.

“No, I’m okay. What? Wait, are you saying that my gas smells?! That’s just how it usually smells.” you pretend to freak out as you walk out of the shower wrapped in a towel.

“Uh oh. No, no. I didn’t say that. Uh–the reason I asked is because I care. That’s all.” Wanda starts to panic.

You start your pretend cry and whine, you cover your face. “It’s embarrassing. If you can’t handle it, how are you gonna be married to me?”

Wanda quickly feels bad but at the same time she doesn’t want you to walk away and lose the bet either. “Aw sweetheart, that’s not true. Don’t worry.” She hugs you even though it’s getting harder for her not to take a deep breath so she won’t inhale any more uncomfortable scents.

You feel the softness of Wanda’s hands rub the skin of your back and you actually love it. What is it with Wanda’s hug? Why do you feel so comfortable in it? What’s wrong with you right now? Oh geez, as much as you want to stay longer in her embrace, unfortunately you have to get away from it before it’s getting harder to be out of her arms. You nod.

“Okay, good girl. Now, why don’t you put on some clothes so we can have our date today, yeah?” Wanda kisses the top of your head. Oh goodness gracious, her tone and the way she calls you a good girl sends something to your brain and body that you can’t explain. You never feel something like it but you try to shrug it off and think maybe it was just because the first time a woman ever called you that. It’s nothing biggie.

You pull yourself away a little from her hugs. “Okay, Wands. I’ll see you downstairs.” You smiled. As soon as Wanda walks out of the bathroom and closes the door, she quickly inhales fresh air as if her life depends on it. She exhales a relief, shakes her head after what just happened.

_____

You can see Wanda is sitting on the couch in the living room as you walk towards her. The fireplace is on, some pretty fancy snacks with a bottle of red wine complete with two glasses are waiting for you as well. Soft lights around and the soothing rain drops outside offer a very comfy vibes. As always Wanda can’t help herself to smile when she sees you, everytime she sees you she feels a very comfortable feeling that she never feels from other girls she has been with but of course Wanda tries not to acknowledge that feeling. Wanda thought maybe the smile she has when she sees you was all because she knows she would win this bet.

“Well hello there, princess. Look how cute you are with my shirt and shorts. Come here, everything’s ready for you. You just need to pick which movie or sitcom we should watch.” she gently pats the empty spots next to her.

You are really impressed with everything that Wanda has prepared. It’s everything that you like. You always would rather have this kind of date than going anywhere fancy. You sit next to her and pick something to watch.

“Wow, this is nice, babe. So fancy but you pulled this off so easily.” you commented.

“Well, anything for the special woman.” Wanda starts her flirtatious strategy. She looks into your eyes and oh that smile again, it makes you almost forget to get the plan going.

“Special huh? Well, I don’t think I feel special enough yet. I’m sure you could plan something more especially if you make your future wife get out of her busy work schedule today to be with you.” you smirk as you tell her your needy demand in a teasing way, totally opposite than what you actually think. You actually love it but right now all you can do is hoping Wanda would think that you are ungrateful and unappreciative.

Wanda doesn’t like demanding women. Independent women always catch her attention, unfortunately she hasn’t met one. Wanda tries to ignore how demanding you are right now, all to win the bet.

“Oh? You are special. I know you would like this. Are you playing hard to get, sweetheart? Hmm?” Wanda’s face gets closer and closer to you. Your heart gradually starts to race. You try to keep your focus with you while trying to get back to this banter.

“Playing hard to get? I’m not. I think you just can’t handle me. I set my bar high and you should be able to reach it if you want to marry me.” You tease her back and you didn’t realize your face gets closer to hers too.

“There you go, my sweet straightforward lady. So you are on board with our arranged marriage then? That's good news.” Wanda gives you a come back with your own remark that you have said to her a few days ago.

“Like I said, maybe yes, maybe no.” you answered and your gaze was glued to her. This time Wanda only chuckles followed with a confident smile, thinking that she still has her fingers wrapped around you and her plan slowly working better.

Before you two know it, your face and Wanda’s are merely an inch. You look at her lips, so does Wanda at yours. You quickly bring yourself together and pull back a little. You clear your throat. “Uh- Why don’t we try this red wine you got here?”

“Oh yeah, yeah. Sorry, we wouldn’t want this great wine waiting.” Wanda awkwardly agrees and  pours some in both glasses. A little thought pops in her mind thinking about another almost kiss moment that breaks her own “no kiss” rule but of course she convinces herself it was part of the plan.

WIth that, the date starts. Sometimes both of you talk about random things or anything about each other. You try to be as messy as you can by dropping some crumbs or food. You try to swing your hand that holds the glass of wine while you are talking with her to drive Wanda crazy from the thought of you spilling it on the couch or the rug. It’s quite comical for you to see how she tries to subtly to avoid that to happen and not to offend you at the same time from doing so. Another meltdown from you is the last thing Wanda wants on tonight's date. She wants to leave much much better impressions on you. Part of you think she looks cute and adorable.

You can’t lie to yourself, you are actually having a great time with Wanda. Maybe Wanda isn’t that bad? Oh no, no, no. You and Wanda are buzzed after sharing a bottle of wine and opening another one. That’s all. She is not your type, well a little but no. You have to be all cringey, annoying and unbearable to her. 

You subtly try to look around, figuring out what you can do. Suddenly, an improvised wild idea came up in your mind. Part of you is hesitant to do it but after a rapid debate internally, your mind says fuck it. 

You gotta do what you gotta do. This is all part of the plan, that’s what you tell yourself.

Wanda was very surprised with your sudden move. You instantaneously move on to her and straddle her lap then kiss her. The Sokovian brunette was caught off guard, kissing you back yet thoughts bouncing around her head. What’s going on here? Both of you let out a soft hum, feeling your bodies melt perfectly to each other. She lays her hands gently on your back and mindlessly pulls you to lean closer to her.

In between kisses, Wanda tries to tell you her thoughts with a soft whisper. “Y/n..sweetheart.” your lips catch hers again as you respond “Hm?”

Again, Wanda tries to break the kiss and speaks. “Are you sure about this? I think you are drunk.” Well, her ego would really love this, thinking that she is really much much closer to her victory on her bet with Kate. As much as she loves the feelings of your lips on her, she respects you.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Are you okay with it?.” You answered as you back out a little, deep down a little panic if you took this plan too far. Wanda looks at you and smiles. “Why wouldn’t I be okay, gorgeous?” She asks lovingly and just like that you turn to the only exception from her no kiss rule. Her hands gently cup your face. My oh my, you are lost in her ethereal eyes. Not to mention her touch. Wait, wait. Are you and Wanda having a moment here? Or perhaps we can say another moment that really you can’t explain. That was not butterflies in your stomach right now. The warmth in your heart (no, scratch that), you meant the warmth in your chest is really just because of the wine. Yes, yes, it is the wine. Not because of the kiss nor Wanda. Hell, it’s not because of the moment right now.

Wanda pulls you back into kiss, in her defense, it’s to pull you deeper in her plan. Not because she wants to or likes it.

Shortly after you remind yourself to move forward to your plan, you kiss her neck and reach to unbutton her pajamas. One by one. Wanda always loves to be in control, including in this kind of situation. You know that. Even if it has been only a few days of knowing her, you can read that. That’s why you are doing what you are doing, showing that you will be the type of wife who wears the pants in the relationship.

You are sure a needy, controlling, demanding, and clingy plus “crazy” woman is the whole package that definitely scares Wanda away in no time.

You smirk and look at her in her sports bra. Here goes nothing, your mind said.

You kiss her collar bones and as soon as your kisses reach her breasts, you do something that launches Wanda into a bigger surprise, not in a good way.

“Aaaawwwwww, look at them. Pretty twins.” You start to baby talk as your hands cup both of her breasts.

Wanda’s closed eyes open abruptly. “Wait, what?” She looks down at you very confused.

“Yeah pretty twins. I shall name you Roni!” you exclaim in more baby talk then kiss her left breast. Before Wanda can ask even further, you move on to the right breast and do the same thing as you say “And I shall name you Ami.” you give more ridiculously loud kisses.

“R-roni?? Ami?? Hold on, hold on. Y/n, my dear. Did you just– Did you just name my breasts??” Wanda looks so baffled. Trying to figure out what really is going on.

“Mmhmm. Why? You don’t like it?” You answered in a fake innocent face and pout.

“No, no. Uh I–I do. It’s cute, really, but uh, don’t you think it’s a bit a mood killer?” Wanda carefully crafts her words and then smiles awkwardly.

“Mood killer?? What do you mean? That’s rude, I was being romantic and sexy with you in our sexy time.” you retort while actually you really want to laugh. You are having fun seeing Wanda’s reaction.

“I know. I know, but naming my breast and baby talk to them? Where in the world did you get the name ideas anyway??” You can see from her face that what you just did really cringes her.

“It’s from my favorite luncheon meat, Roni is short for pepperoni and Ami is short for Salami.” You are really proud of yourself for coming up with this idea and can’t wait to tell Natasha and Yelena about it.

“Oh God. Pep–pepperoni? Salami? But you are vegan, Y/n?!Few days ago you cried because of the meat I cooked for dinner and now you name my breasts with meat names?” Wanda rambles, frustration starts to show bit by bit.

“Then you would prefer Melonie and Coco? You know, because of the perfect round shape and size.” You nonchalantly offer her different name ideas and explain them with a little shrug. Right now you are trying to look innocent. A stark difference from how you were earlier as if you have different personalities.

Of course, it lures out more of Wanda’s reaction. “What? MELON and COCONUT?? Mine are not ridiculously big like them.” Wanda argues. Shade of red blush covers her cheeks as she crosses both of her palms to cover her breasts in such embarrassment and disagreement.

“Aaaaww. Okay okay. What about Squashy and Squishy, then? Squashy, because squash is my favorite vegetable and Squishy because yours are squishy.” you are back to baby talk and your hands playfully cups Wanda’s breasts.

Wanda looks at you in disbelief at what you just said and she lays her head back on the couch as her right fingers massage the bridge of her nose. “Aaaand it died. It just died.” Said Wanda referring to her mood on the “sexy time” with you 

“What? What died, babe?” You play dumb with your question. You know what she meant.

“Uh, nothing. Y/n, how about we call it a night, yeah? I’m tired, I got pretty buzzed earlier. I have things to do at the office tomorrow too.” Luckily, your plan works and you are glad that you can finally go home.

“Really? That’s all the date you said you prepared so special for me? Okay. I guess, I’m gonna go home then.” You pretend to look upset and disappointed.

“Oh no, no. You are not driving home now, sweetheart. It’s late now. You are drunk, it’s still pouring rain outside and you got a car problem earlier. So stay the night here please. I’ll ask the maid to get the guest room ready for you.” Wanda leaves you no room to refuse but you have to get out of here. Once again, you have to think quickly how to refuse her.

“Guest room? Really? Me, your future wife, sleeps in the guest room. That’s upsetting. I’m just gonna go home.” You pretend to cry for no reason and you quickly get off her lap so you can get ready to leave.

Her gaze follows where you walk to the door. “Where else are you supposed to sl—?” she halts her words when she realizes why you are leaving so upset. Wanda can’t let you leave upset from the date, it’s too risky for her.

She gets up quickly and tries to stop you. “Okay, okay. You can sleep in my room, on my bed..with me. Yeah? Sounds good? Yes yes, sounds much better than driving drunk in the rain. I won’t let anything happen to my woman.” Wanda agrees and gives full effort to make you stay.

You have no other excuse to leave so like it or not, you stay. You are just surprised with how determined Wanda is. On second thought, you think that she is right. It might be safer to stay the night.

_____

“Oookay, the bed is ready for you, love. You’ll sleep on the left side and I’ll sleep on the right side. Here’s your pillow and I have another blanket here if you need it. I’m going to brush my teeth right now and get ready for bed.” Wanda tells you as she just got done preparing the bed for you. 

You wanted to be needier and make the sleeping side of the bed a big deal but you are thinking you don’t want to look that bad in front of Wanda. Wait, what’s wrong with you? That’s the goal of this whole plan. Why would you even think that way? Okay, maybe you just want to be annoying in a more logical way. Yeah that’s probably it. 

You lay on your side, on the bed. Letting your back facing Wanda. Trying not to sleep too close with her when she comes back.

While you are trying to get comfy in bed, you hear Wanda from the bathroom.

Wanda is freaking out about what she discovers as soon as she gets to the bathroom. For a clean freak like her, it looks like a horror for her. Your wet dirty clothes are on the floor, your “hair” is on the floor, on the bathroom sink and even stick on the shower glass door.

Your plan definitely works because you heard her muffled voice in the bathroom freaking out saying “Oh no..no..no.. Oh Lord. Why is it so messy? Who lives like this? Calm down, Wanda. It’s nothing big.”

You laugh silently but as soon as you hear her walk out of the bathroom, you pretend to sleep. You heard her taking a deep breath to calm herself down.

Wanda finally lays down on the bed. “Good night, Y/n.” she gently says it but no answer from you so she assumes that you are asleep. You hear her whisper to herself. “What a night.”

You can’t really sleep but you pretend every now and then to snore loudly and make weird noises while you are “sleeping”. You toss and turn as well just so it will seem like it’s hell to sleep with you.

It was hard for Wanda to fall asleep because of what you are doing. She couldn’t believe how loud you snored but eventually both of you finally fell asleep.

Pt. 6

A/n: Welp, thats it for today! Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

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[sambhavami]

Krishna Vaasudeva - Bani Basu - 3

This is a partial summary, all the magic is Dr. Basu's!

Balarama walks on, on a winter evening. It is true that them two brothers have faced off against armies of thousands and emerged victorious. Krishna is smart, and capable and strong, but didn’t he do most of the heavy lifting? But everyone just says Krishna this, Krishna that! Even as children, everyone only sang praises of Krishna. He too was one of them, no doubt, he loves his brother more than anything, but still. Also, now people say he is a god. In that case, is Balarama a god too? Or is he relevant only when he follows his brother around? Who is he then? Is he Brahma? Shiva? Sudarshana? Garuda? Balarama looked around to see if anyone was watching. Then he flapped his arms around a bit. No. No feathers. Balarama laughed to himself at the absurdity.

Life was so simple back in Vrindavana. They would sneak off, to secret wrestling spaces, the girls would follow Krishna around like bees around a flower. They would drown in his love. Did any of them love Balarama like that? He isn’t too ugly, now, is he? Back then, even more than the cows, he loved the fields. Scaring off the farmhands, he would complete a day’s work on his own, until Nanda would drag him away by the ear, complaining to his mother, now Vasudeva would think I am using his son as a farmhand now! Balarama could never explain to them that he genuinely enjoys this.

He doesn’t know what Krishna thinks, but nothing in Mathura really pleases him. Not like Vrindavan. His mind keeps wandering back to his childhood. There was a girl. Dark-skinned. Lived near the river. He used to call her Yamuna. He never did find out her name. Thank God, they go out on trips every now and then, or else he would go crazy with all the rules and regulations of the upper echelon.

Krishna isn’t here now. He told everyone he’s going on a random trip, but he’s actually down in the city he calls Dwaravati. No one’s here to talk to him therefore. His mother’s here, so is Devaki, Kanu’s real mom, but he never knew about the twelve others. He finds it difficult to go on respecting his father. Every time he tries to tell his mother all this, he finds her too so anxious, for his safety, upset at his father’s indifference. He ends up swallowing his part entirely.

One day, therefore he just woke up and left. Towards Vrindavan. The ministers had ordered him to not go, but he had laughed in their faces. I am but a simple cowherd, he had said, you can manage for a week or two! Out of the boat on the other side Yamuna, Balarama steps but, his shoes get stuck in the mud. Good riddance, he thinks, as he walks faster towards his home.

When he walks through, the first word out of Nanda’s mouth is, you came alone, or is someone coming?

Balarama laughs it off, wouldn’t you even let me in the house without Kanu now? Where’s my plough?

That’s Balarama! Not where Yashoda is, not where his friends are, but first, his addiction!

In the evening when the whole village gathers in their courtyard, Balarama just shakes his head, I am just on vacation. All the big stuff, the smart plans, that’s all Kanu. I am just a meagre helper, that’s all!

Later he goes out to see the village, but everyone’s busy with their own families and even the cattle don’t remember his scent. After a full round, he comes back frowning, I haven’t forgotten anyone Yasho-maa, it seems you people have forgotten me! He exclaims.

The next day, however, it seems like a festival has started. Everyone comes to see him and shower him in love. Just then, one lady form somewhere says, now just if we can put some black colour on him, wouldn’t we get just a taste of Krishna? Balarama stands up, tearing the garland form his neck, walks up to a hollow Kadamba tree, and starts drinking the water that has fermented over long inside that hollow. Kadambari.

You all can’t seem to think one step ahead of Kanu it seems! You haven’t seen nothing yet! He roars, I’ll show you what Balarama is! He ran, swaying from side to side, screaming Yamuna! Where are you!

The dark-skinned woman, having heard his voice had come out. Pulling her close with his plough, he screams for her to let him have his way. The woman screams and begs him to let her go. Finally, Balarama releases her. I am truly worthless then, he cries. Then again he became angry, From now on, you must walk the path I tell you to, he roars, and draws a wavering line with his plough and disappears into the forest, leaving the village staring speechless at his retreating form.

That night, no one saw Balarama, but a storm came. Almost as if the sky was to break down on their heads. The next morning, they found the river flowing through the forest. Along the path that their Rama had set! The villagers were left speechless once more. The poor woman’s house too had been washed away, and she was nowhere to be found. Only Rama didn’t remember anything.

[randofics]

Hey, sorry to bother you. Is there any chance you could do some more writing on the fic about being able to reach where the bots can't? Maybe them seeking out more and more chances to get help with it so they can feel them again (once again sorry to bother im not used to doing asks lol)

My first ask that I've actually finished! It took a few days, but I got it done. Hope you enjoy this anon!

Being able to reach where the bots can't Pt.2

After the men on base found out you could squeeze into Optimus's engine space and reach where they couldn't, they would call on you for assistance quite often.

Once after a battle, they were giving Optimus a thorough lookover for any serious damage when someone spotted leaking enerjon pooling underneath him. There was enough for everyone to get a bit worried. One guy spotted you walking into the hangar and yelled for you. The tone of his voice was enough for your happy face to twist with worry.

You sprinted over and bent down to look where they were pointing. Heart tightening at the sight, without hesitation, you slid underneath him to look. Finding a dripping trail of the blue fluid, you sat up on your knees and leaned against the inside of his wheel. "I need some electrical tape!" A hand tapped your side, and you grabbed the roll immediately, pulling out a long strip and tearing it off with your teeth.

Reaching up, you felt for the torn cables and hoses. Finding a matching pair, you quickly pressed the open ends together and wrapped them tightly to seal them. You did that for the other ones till you didn't see any more bleeding. Your heart racing in your chest, you leaned back against the inside of his wheel again and asked for a clean cloth. You wiped your hands clean and gently cleaned any surface of his engine that had drying enerjon.

His shocks creaked as the tension in his frame was released. The cables still hurt, but with your gentle touch, that was quickly forgotten.

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Crosshairs didn't like the feeling of things stuck in his plating, but if it meant possibly getting you to touch him in order to remove it, then he could tolerate it. Now he didn't do it on purpose it really was accidental. Nevertheless, he called you over for some assistance in removing the offending plant matter.

Once again, you leaned over into his engine space and felt around for anything out of place. Feeling the soft texture of a leaf, you touched your way down to the branch it was attached to and gave it a tug. You managed to pull it free, but the end was broken off somewhere inside the mechanics of his engine.

He was too low to the ground for you to slip underneath, so you called another person nearby to get you a set of carjacks. A minute or two later, they ran up with two heavy jacks in hand. Laying on the concrete, you felt underneath his bumper for parts of his frame you could use to lift him. Sliding the jacks into position, you cranked them both a bit at a time till his front end was up high enough for you to safely slip underneath.

Flashlight in hand, you scanned the underside of his engine for the green of leaves. Spotting one poking out, you slowly pulled it till the rest of the branch came free. "Is that all of it?"

"Yeah, that feels like all of it." With that, you slid out from underneath him tossing the branch to the side and starting to release the jacks. They slowly racked down till he was on his wheels, and you pulled them away.

He transformed and tested his movements a bit. With a grumbled thank you from him, you went on with your previous work.

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Bumblebee had a plan in motion. He'd purposefully gotten dirty so you would help clean him. He waited outside the hangar for you to arrive and honked his horn to grab your attention.

When you saw him rolling towards you, absolutely caked in mud, you had to do a double take. "What in the world did you get into bee?" You chuckle, shaking your head at his antics.

"Can you.. wash.. me?"

"You have a wash station inside bee. Why do you want me to wash you?"

A voice clearly from an old movie answered you. "It's gotten old darling"

"So you just want to change things up a bit?"

A happy whirring answered you. You sighed. "Well, I suppose I have the time. Just park by the wash station so the hose can reach you. I'll grab some stuff."

"So, do you want the water cold or hot?"

🎶"Shawty fire burnin' fire burnin'."🎶

You let out a snort at his music reference. "Ok, hot it is." You sprayed him down, trying to remove as much dried mud as possible before using the sponges. Surprisingly, you got almost everything off with the hose alone. Dunking a sponge into your bucket of warm soapy water, you splashed soap over his hood, following behind with circular motions. Scrubbing anything too stubborn with a wet cloth.

He was definitely enjoying this. Your hands all over him and the warm water running over his plating. It was over too soon, though, and you dumped the bucket in the nearby drain after giving him a thorough spray down to remove any leftover suds.

"Sorry bee, you'll have to get your undercarriage cleaned in the wash station. It's too hard for me to wash under there."

"That's alright."

He watched you walk away through a set of double doors nearby and then drove into the wash station, letting it blast his undercarriage with cool water.

You chuckled to yourself as you walked down the hallway. You knew exactly why he'd gotten so dirty, and you thought it was cute how he tried to play it off.

-------

Rachet had gone out with Bumblebee and Raf after Optimus suggested he take a break from the deskwork to stretch his "legs". He'd grumbled about it but relented. When he returned, there was some mud splattered on his plates that he didn't pay any mind to. When Arcee commented on it, he brushed her off, saying that he'd get cleaned up later.

You arrived at base after bee picked you up from work. And as soon as you saw the grumpy medic standing at his desk with mud on his white and rusty red paint, you rolled your eyes. Figures he'd be too engrossed in work to even shower.

Motherly instincts taking over you called his name with no response. A little louder the second time. "Rachet!" He didn't look at you, but this time, he answered. "What? I'm busy!"

"You need to wash off."

"Can't right now, there's too much to do."

"Rachet, I will spray you if I have to."

"Sorry, still too busy."

You let out an annoyed growl. Then, an idea popped into your head. You ran off to find some tools.

Slightly out of breath, you placed the buckets on the floor behind rachet and dragged an extra long hose to the same spot after hooking it to a nearby spicket. Turning on the water, you ran to the end with the spray nozzle and, without warning, sprayed him in the back. He jumped, letting out a yelp at the cold water. Whipping around, he glared down at you.

"Hey, I tried to warn you. Now transform so I can get all that dry mud off you." He rolled his optics, letting out a grumble of annoyance. Relenting, he transformed, and you smiled in satisfaction.

"Just be quick about it." You got to work spraying him down and sudsing him up. You had to sit on your knees on his tire to reach the center of his hood. Your chest pressing into him as you reached for the awkward spot. Internally, he was freaking out about it.

This definitely felt nicer than the wash station, though, and eventually, he was relaxing on his shocks, enjoying your thorough cleaning.

Once you'd finished his chassis and tires, you put on some swimming goggles and slid under his side. He'd been so entranced by your touch on his panels that he hadn't even noticed you slip underneath him. When he felt your touch on his undercarriage, he jolted forward an inch in surprise.

"Woah, Rachet!"

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were under there." He tried to speak as normal as possible, but you noticed the slight crack in his voice. Gently, you started scrubbing the cables and other parts that made up his undercarriage. You immediately took note of how tense he'd become and listened to any sounds he made.

He kept as quiet as possible, but he was definitely feeling things he hadn't in a few centuries. Luckily, no one was in the main room of the base at the moment. Even so, he didn't want you or anyone else to hear the noises his body was trying to produce.

You could, every once in a while, make out stifled grunts and groans, which made you grin mischievously. Eventually, though, you had completely cleaned every inch of his undercarriage that your small hands and the cloth you used would allow. So reluctantly, you slid out from under him soaked with soap and grime all over.

You stretched, removing the goggles and ringing out some water from the bottom of your shirt. "Woo! Now I need a shower." He transforms, looking himself over for a moment. "Ahem, thank you, y/n." He held his fisted servo over his mouth, looking anywhere but at you. "I could tell you enjoyed yourself." He looked at you wide optics, and you grinned up at him, giving a wink and walking away to take a shower of your own.